Story HourPost your ongoing tales from your campaigns, and read those from others for inspiration. Lots of other RPG boards post "Story Hours", but this is where it started!
“Patrols have found many dead, including Prath and his Pet. There are reports of a fire set in the dining hall and a large hole in the wall of the Tower of The Way.”
“Intruders?” The Master’s countenance grew thoughtful. “Intruders… Yes, find them. Find out if they are still within the fortress and if not, find out where they might be hiding. Find them and… Tell the patrol’s they are not to attack yet, come and tell me when they are found… Yes, this must be handled… Carefully.”
As his servant turned to leave The Master added, “…And tell Chavakuth to seal the hole.”
“My Master, Chavakuth is among the dead.”
“Really?” The Master almost smiled, but instead slowly started nodding. “Yes… Find them. Find them and keep me posted. Yes… This must be done… with great care…”
Bootsy – 7th/1st Level Gnome Sorcerer/Fighter.
Celtir – 8th Level Elven Cleric.
Frankie – 7th Level Dwarven Barbarian.
Tristan – 7th Level Human Paladin (Currently in the form of a Tiny Viper).
Wencis – 7th Level Aasimar Incarnate.
Prison Break
“There’s no activity in the village,” Wencis noted. “That can’t be a good sign.”
He turned as he heard the sounds of frustration coming from Celtir who was sitting with a tiny viper on the ground before him. The cleric shook his head, “The magic of the Yuan-Ti is powerful. The spell that has transformed Tristan resists my efforts to dispel it. I’ll have to try again tomorrow.”
Frankie returned from where he had looked over the wall. “More bad news. The hole we made in the side of the tower is gone.”
“Well, that was to be expected. There was no way our presence in the fortress could not have been noticed. We’ll just have to make another entryway,” said Bootsy. “The only question is where.”
After a short discussion, the companions decided there was no reason not to use the front door.
Once they had used the spider to climb down from the top of the tower, Celtir once again called on the power of his god to shape stone, warping the stone away from the hinges of the main doors to the fortress. The remaining companions readied themselves for what lay beyond. What was beyond the doors surprised them.
Bootsy stepped in. “No one? Guess they weren’t expecting this tactic. Where to from here?”
Celtir Pointed to a passageway that sloped downward, “The slave we released indicated there was a prison below. If the villagers have been rounded up, they may be there. We should make rescuing them a priority. As for the ghost the prisoner told us about, I have petitioned Solonor for the powers to assist us in destroying an incorporeal creature. I can empower one of our weapons with the ability to strike such creatures reliably. The only question is who gets it.”
The general consensus was that Frankie’s weapon was probably the best choice.
Upon reaching the bottom of the sloping passage, they saw rows of cell doors. Muffled moans and cries revealed the presence of multiple prisoners. Looking through the bars of the nearest cell doors, they saw a female Elf and a full blooded Orc looking back at them. Taking a set of keys they had found on the torturers they had slain, they were able to release the Elf.
As the companions spread out to find the remaining prisoners, the ghostly Yuan-Ti made his appearance.
Gliding silently out of one of the walls, the creature slashed at Frankie with ghostly tooth and claw. Frankie’s quick reflexes saved him and his companions quickly retaliated. Two Scorching Rays from Bootsy passed through the ghostly form, but a positive energy burst from Celtir, a hammer strike from Wencis and two slashes from Frankie’s axe quickly put an end to the ghostly tormenter of those imprisoned here. A subdued cheer went up from the prisoners as this news was spread.
Giving the keys to the Elf they had released, Celtir urged her to find and release the remaining prisoners as the companions continued to explore the rest of this level.
As they moved toward the western portion of the prison level, Bootsy raised a hand to stop his companions the moment the stench of rot assailed his nostrils. Looking ahead in the shadowy light, he saw a wide open pit in the floor. Waste water was oozing and dripping into the pit from grates in the stone ceiling above it.
Bootsy quickly cast and a fireball blossomed directly over the pit. When his companions looked at him questioningly he just shrugged. “If there is but one sure thing in this universe, it is that there is always something bad in the waste pit of any abode of evil and its name is Otyugh.”
Sure enough, as Celtir got too close trying to slip past it on one side, a long tentacle lashed out of the pit. The nimble elf quickly dodged aside and launched two arrows into the disgusting creature that rose from the garbage within the pit. The arrows struck in the center of the mass and sunk in to the beast all the way to the fletching. The creature let out a low moan and slumped back into the waste.
Bootsy scoffed, “How predictable.”
Moving into the western half of the dungeon, they entered a large chamber with doors on all sides. Quickly breaking through the locked doors they found a large store of supplies. Calling the prisoners over they armed them with the weapons and armor they found and gave them what food and other necessities they had found throughout the area.
Through one of the doors they found a meticulously clean room. On the shelf they found two pearls and a suit of scale armor made from overlapping layers of darkwood. They had seen a suit of armor just like this one on one of the statues in the Tomb of the Forgotten King. Using his staff and monocle Bootsy quickly discovered all three were magical and discerned their properties. The two Pearls of Power and the armor were given to Celtir.
With the released prisoners in tow the companions returned to the entryway of the keep, showed the prisoners the way out and continued up to the next level of the fortress.
At the balcony level, a quick search of the areas they had not yet been to revealed a number of rooms that were obviously used as barracks for the common soldiers of the keep.
Continuing upward they found themselves in the largest room they had yet to find. The strange electric glow of two more of the portals cast light on the four massive columns that supported the ceiling of this chamber. To the east, multiple serpentine statues stood in niches along the north and south walls and the room was crossed by rows of massive pillars. In the center of the chamber stood a three tiered ziggurat of what appeared to be black marble. The air in the room was desert-dry and carried a foul scent. On either side of the ziggurat, a set of stairs led to the tops of two towers that stood within the massive chamber as well.
Wencis and Frankie moved to inspect the ziggurat as Celtir and Bootsy each climbed the steps to the two towers. As they approached, a palpable sense of dread seemed to radiate from the ziggurat. Seen up close, the structure’s black marble walls were shot through with veins of dark red and its surface glistened slightly. From the tops of the towers Bootsy and Celtir could see the top the ziggurat.
“There’s something small on top of it,” Celtir called down. “It’s small… Leather or cloth maybe?”
Bootsy squinted over the side of the low railing of his tower toward the top of the ziggurat. “They’re bracers, or Frankie’s mother is a Gnome.” Before Frankie could object, Bootsy looked down at the Dwarf and called out, “Sure as she’s a gods damned Dwarf! Is that better?”
Down below, Frankie looked to Wencis, shrugged his shoulders and both just shook their heads.
As the companions regrouped at the bottom of the ziggurat, they discussed options. Bootsy went so far as to touch the large structure. “It gives a little. Kind of feels… Fleshy. I don’t think I could climb it. ”
Bootsy was about to dig out his rope to try to snag the item up above, when Wencis made a suggestion. “I have the ability to shape my soul energy into sandals that would allow me to walk on the air for a short period of time. I could go up and get them that way.”
The companions looked at each other and then looked at Wencis. As one they burst out laughing. “Sandals?” Bootsy cried out between guffaws. “What the hell kind of Fairy-ing magic do you use exactly?”
Wencis looked a little embarrassed. “Look, my abilities are gifted by the divine. I don’t choose their forms. I just utilize the powers to the best of my ability.”
As the laughter dropped to just snickering and giggling, Frankie patted him on the shoulder. “T’is true, your powers have been very useful and you have truly contributed to our successes. But I think our next quest should be one to find you a manlier source of power.”
Assuming the good natured ribbing and laughter was not going to stop anytime soon, Wencis quickly called upon his innate powers and rose into the air.
When he returned Bootsy stepped forward to examine his find. “Well, it would seem that these bracers were once magical, but whatever power they had has been drained from them somehow, by some power of the ziggurat perhaps. It breaks my heart to see such waste.”
Continuing upwards, the companions found themselves on a large balcony overlooking the area they had just left.
“Well, there are always those glowing portals,” suggested Wencis.
Bootsy shook his head, “Before we get too hasty, let’s reexamine some of the places we’ve been. We can start here.” Spreading out, the companions started to search the walls.
After about a half an hour of searching Bootsy finally found something of interest. “Over here! There’s a seam along the wall here. I bet it’s a secret door." A brief search revealed the opening mechanism and the door was quickly opened. The passageway beyond branched almost immediately. It sloped down to the east and apparently dead ended to the west.
Bootsy moved to the west, “I don’t buy that. Who would go through all the trouble to build a passage that goes nowhere?”
A quick search revealed another secret door.
The walls of the room beyond were covered with etched images of huge serpents feasting on entire castles and villages of terrified humanoids. Other than the frescoes there was only another of the crackling green portals and a set of stairs leading down.
Seeing nothing of interest within the room the companions started down the stairs. Not too far down, they came to a small landing where the stair continued down, just after a door set in the wall that would apparently allow entry to the center of the tower.
As they were about to move to inspect the doors a hooting shriek echoed throughout the stairwell. Coming up the stairs below, bouncing from wall to wall, came three corpse-pale baboons with burning eyes. Their fur was falling out in patches from taught flesh and their gaunt muzzles flashed jagged teeth as they attacked.
Bootsy was first to act and he burned the first two baboons with two Scorching Rays. The creatures quickly closed the distance and bit both Frankie and Bootsy. Both of the companions were weakened as negative energy flowed through them. A positive energy burst from Celtir burned at the flesh of the three baboons while simultaneously healing his injured companions. One of the creatures that had already been hit with the Scorching Ray collapsed into a pile of dust. Of the remaining two, one was killed by two quick axe blows from Frankie and the other fell to an electrically charged hammer thrown by Wencis.
Turning to the door, the companions found it locked. A few blows from Frankie were all it took to force the doors open. Beyond, chains suspended a coiled serpentine idol of polished brass from the ceiling of what must have been a religious sanctuary. Rows of cushions covered the floor in concentric circles surrounding the hanging idol as if worshipers were meant to look up at it in prayer.
Even as the companions took in the features of the room, two serpentine skeletons lurched toward them. From above, they heard a hissed incantation. A Yuan-Ti Pureblood clad in black robes edged with green serpents was perched atop the statue. A dark beam lanced down and sapped Frankie’s strength, leaving him exhausted. Only a moment later a small bead flew into the room and blossomed into a ball of fire just below the Yuan-Ti, burning him and the skeletons within the chamber.
Celtir quickly moved up and launched two arrows at the Yuan-Ti, dropping him from his perch on the idol. Axe blows from Frankie and a charged hammer from Wencis smashed into the skeleton who quickly returned the attacks, slashing with scimitars and biting at the two companions. A positive energy burst from Celtir quickly followed, burning at the skeletons and causing one of them to flee to the back of the room. With the Pureblood mage dead and one of the skeletons cowering, the companions quickly finished the undead creatures.
Gathering what they found on the dead Yuan-Ti, they continued down the stairs. Shortly they came to another landing, identical to the last. Once again the companions had to force the door open.
The companions were momentarily stunned by the horrors within. Foul art objects, demonic weapons, bloodstained bones, severed hands and standards bearing sigils of chaos and evil lined the walls on all sides. Along the far wall a number of prisoners, including Clora, stood manacled, their faces masks of terror and despair. Next to a stone slab in the center of the room, a female prisoner fought desperately against another human woman in hide armor and blood-hued ceremonial robes. The prisoner was unarmed but the cultist raised a rusted dagger. Once again one of their enemies suffered the terrible combination of Frankie’s axe and Wencis’ Hammer only to be fried by both of Bootsy’s Scorching Rays. She had barely had time to acknowledge their presence before she was struck down.
While the others gathered what they could, Bootsy approached the woman who had been wrestling with the cultist. “So you definitely are not one of the villagers. Who are you and what brings you here?”
“My name is Arzaezra. I am an explorer and adventurer who has come to this valley accidentally. I am more than ready to leave it.”
Satisfied with this simple explanation, the companions armed her and the slaves with what they could and then took the time to show them all the way out.
Once outside, as Arzaezra was walking away, Celtir felt something wiggle out of his pack and poke him on the back of the neck. He looked to see it was Tristan, still in the form of a tiny viper, that was poking him and motioning in the direction of Arzaezra. He called it to the attention of the others. “I wonder what’s got him all worked up?” None of them could figure it out, so they ignored him and Tristan eventually crawled back into the pack, a frustrated look on his serpentine face.
They returned to find a door at the bottom of the tower. Beyond they found a room very similar to the one at the top of the tower, though only half its size. Within they saw one of the stone archways that usually were lit with electrical activity, though this one was silent and showed only a stone filled archway.
At Wencis’ suggestion they returned to the two active portals they had found at the top of the fortress. After a short discussion, it was decided they would go through the southern gate.
Putting on one of the cultists robes Bootsy turned to his companions, “Give me a few seconds before you burst through. Let’s see if we can catch anyone on the other side off guard.”
When Bootsy passed through the portal he found he had been transported into an oddly shaped room that resembled a distended triangle. Five doors lined the walls and a large pit opened up in the middle of the floor. He also found himself next to a large hideous figure. The figure was humanoid from the waist up but serpentine below. Its body was a patchwork of scales and leathery skin – some dried and shriveled, some bloody and raw.
Rolling with a punch from the creature, Bootsy came to his feet about ten feet away. Now fully aware of the creature’s great strength, he carefully cast a Scorching Ray at the creature and was disappointed when he saw the flames wash over it harmlessly. A moment later, Frankie came through and was surprised when the creature punched him on the shoulder knocking him to the side. On his heels came Wencis who managed to dodge to the opposite side and then Celtir who tumbled past Frankie and was able to step away from the large creature.
The first thing they noticed was how tough the creature was. The one-two punch from Frankie’s axe and Wencis’ hammer barely left a scratch on the creature. Celtir's arrows also barely punctured the creatures flesh and Bootsy’s magic continued to wash over the creature harmlessly.
The companions shared a look that said, “We might be in trouble,” and then they got to work. Wencis and Frankie accepted the punishing blows from the creature, keeping it away from Celtir so he could use his bow, and away from Bootsy, who fell back to throwing oil at the creature. Only their skills were keeping them alive, rolling with the punches to lessen the impact. Trying to find a form of magic that might affect it, Bootsy noted, after casting Acid Arrow, that the creature was apparently healed by acid.
After almost a full minute of ducking, weaving and striking, the creature was finally starting to falter, but so were Frankie and Wencis. Celtir raised his holy symbol and called upon Solonor, healing everyone’s wounds. This was what saved the companions, Celtir’s ability to heal his companions while the large creature was unaffected by the positive burst. Finally, the amount of damage was too great and the creature was defeated.
Yeah, there was some metagaming. But really, putting an Otyugh in a garbage pit… That’s almost as bad as putting a secret door at the end of a dead end corridor with no other doors.
We have kind of a running joke about Aasimar looking effeminate. It started with my monk character from the last campaign and has continued on to this one. There is a reference to this early in the story hour when Bootsy is giving Wencis a potion and calls him “Lass”. When MundinIronhand (Wencis’ player) mentioned the sandals we couldn’t help but laugh about it.
The fight with the Scale Golem was long and the players were really working to try and figure out what might affect it. They finally nickel and dimed it enough to defeat it.
I mentioned Arzaezra’s background (Paladin of Slaughter) after they let her go and jokes were made about how agitated Tristan must have been in her presence.
Oh yeah, no Tristan this week. Off to Arizona? Is that what I heard?
Due to Real Life (Curses), our game has been delayed, so there will be no update this week. Hopefully we will be able to schedule a game for next week (If we could just settle on a day).
Since we have such short session I had been hoping we'd be able to schedule a marathon (marathon for us that is >2.5 hours) game for a saturday or sunday to finish up the campaign. We'll see if we can pull that one off.
Bootsy – 7th/1st Level Gnome Sorcerer/Fighter.
Celtir – 8th Level Elven Cleric.
Frankie – 8th Level Dwarven Barbarian.
Tristan – 7th Level Human Paladin (Currently in the form of a Tiny Viper).
Wencis – 8th Level Aasimar Incarnate.
The Voice of Evil
After the defeat of the scaled construct, the companions started to search the surrounding rooms. Two of the doors opened easily revealing small rooms, each outfitted with a bed, wardrobe and a writing desk. Finding the other two door locked the companions had to resort to Frankie’s “Key”. As he chopped into the first door, lightning filled the room leaving all the companions smoking where they stood.
Bootsy cast Detect Magic and gazed upon the door. “It still radiates magic. I would expect that’ll happen every time.”
Frankie inspected the amount of damage he had done to the door. “I think I can take a few more of those.”
Seeking cover in the rooms they had opened, the companions left Frankie to his work. After two more strikes and two more shocks the door finally collapsed inward. Beyond was a small chamber containing all manner of equipment, carefully ordered and labeled in a language the companions assumed was Yuan-Ti. A search of the room revealed a number of spell components, including some expensive jewels and powders. One large pouch contained a foul smelling purple powder.
“Looks very unusual,” Bootsy said as he sniffed at the powder in the bag. “I can’t place it, but I expect it might be a component for some strange spell or ritual. Might be for either evil or necromantic magic but my guess is some combination of both. We’d best hold onto it for now.”
Breaking down the last door they found what might have been taken for the living quarters of an ascetic or monk, were it not for the array of skulls bolted to the walls. Some were Human, some Elven, some Orcish and there were even a few Yuan-Ti. The skulls were meticulously clean but each was perforated by four round holes. In addition to the skulls, a flat wooden cot with a thin mattress served as a bed, while pegs on one wall took the place of a wardrobe. A search of the room revealed a small magical circlet.
Having explored all other options, the companions returned to the center of the entry room to look into the pit that occupied the middle of the room. It looked to be about ten feet deep with no interesting features. Just to be sure there was nothing more to it, Frankie jumped down. Celtir was about to follow when he noticed Frankie seemed to disappear through the floor of the pit and a moment later he heard a distant “Thud” and Frankie grunt. This was followed by Frankie’s voice shouting up that he was not alone, leaving the companions unsure if that meant he was in trouble.
Realizing the pit was an illusion, Celtir cast Wind Walk as Bootsy climbed onto his back. Once he was sure they were both prepared, Celtir stepped over the pit and started to descend.
Lowering themselves through the illusory floor of the pit, Celtir and Bootsy found themselves in the middle of some type of laboratory. The room’s most alarming feature was the gaunt humanoid figure with sickly purple skin and a face that was a mass of writhing tentacles. Next to it was a raging Yuan-Ti that was lifting a greataxe and preparing to charge.
Before they could react, a wave of mental energy washed over them. Through sheer force of will neither Bootsy nor Celtir were affected by it. Bootsy quickly leapt from Celtir’s back onto the floor and cast a Scorching Ray at each of the two creatures, but the fiery magic washed harmlessly over them both. A quick shot from Celtir missed the Squid faced creature as the Yuan-Ti charged forward and slashed at him with its axe. Everyone in the room was momentarily taken aback when a figure plummeted past them, through a hole in the floor and into the room below. Wencis had jumped down to lend his support. He rolled to his feet as he landed next to Frankie.
They were both standing in a room beneath the one where Bootsy and Celtir were fighting the Yuan-Ti and the Mind Flayer. This room was lined with book-filled shelves and contained a number of cushioned chairs. As they took this in they heard a low laugh from high up along one wall. Looking up they saw a Yuan-Ti Abomination on a narrow balcony, its massive form dwarfed the railing it was leaning upon. Its eyes gleamed with a fiendish light as it called out in a deep voice, “I was wondering when you would show up here. I believe we should talk.”
In the room above, Bootsy was disappointed as he watched his magic fail once more against his enemies. The Yuan-Ti slashed at him with his axe and it was only Bootsy’s quickness and magical protections that saved his life.
The Mind Flayer turned his attention to Celtir. Celtir was about to attack once more, when all of a sudden he realized the Mind-Flayer was not an enemy. Seeing no way to stop the raging Yuan-Ti from attacking, but wanting to end the conflict, Celtir grabbed Bootsy and dragged him back over the hole in the floor. His magical Air Walk still active, Celtir controlled their descent to the room below where they landed next to Frankie and Wencis. Looking up to where the other two were facing he saw the massive Yuan-Ti on the balcony.
Looking up to the room above the Yuan-Ti called out in its hissing language, apparently calling off or dismissing the two in the room above. He then turned his attention once more to the four Companions of the Barrow.
“So, you have certainly made quite the mess on your way here, haven’t you? I am Zoldathra, Master of the Word. I have been a member of the Vanguard for decades. Until recently, I thought I was privy to the greatest secrets of my organization. I was wrong.”
Celtir stepped forward, “Who or what is Sertrous?”
“Ahhh, a good question and one I shall answer for you. Long before history was even a notion, a demon prince named Sertrous ruled brutally over one of the Infinite Layers of the Abyss. Ambitious and predatory even by Abyssal standards, Sertrous was among the first demons to take an interesting the developing races of the mortal world. Hoping to use their worship to ascend to true divinity, he planned to overthrow even the gods.
“It was not to be. Even as Sertrous began his ascent to divinity, he and a number of other ancient demons faced an uprising of their abyssal servitors. Those conspirators not banished to the depths of the plane were destroyed outright. Sertrous and some of his loyal minions were forced into the mortal world.
“Sertrous manifested as a serpentine entity with an insatiable appetite for living creatures. The Yuan-Ti and some feral humanoids were naturally drawn to the demon, to his strength. The weak were consumed in the name of his hunger. However Sertrous granted a tiny measure of his own power to a handful of the worthy, using them to explore this strange new plane.
“As civilization grew and the worship of the weaker deities spread, Sertrous fell into an endless slumber. So potent had he become, however, that even asleep he observed the mortal world. His anger-filled dreams drove Sertrous to an unearthly transformation – a manifestation of the Abyss and the Material Plane, equally bound to both.
The cult that had formed around Sertrous, now called The Slumbering Serpent, split in two. One faction continued to worship the sleeping demon lord as a demigod, while the other was driven by those Sertrous touched in dreams – infected by the demon lord’s desire to see the world thrown down and consumed.
“Our current leader, Sulvagren is one of the latter. Driven by his dreams of madness, he wishes to complete the Sacrament of the Risen Abyss to bring forth a creature not intent to rule the world, but to destroy it.
“I believe that one day, Sertrous will rise and the Vanguard will rule in his name, but this travesty envisioned by the Vanguard’s current leader must be stopped. I dare not move against my leaders directly, but perhaps you can achieve what I cannot.”
Celtir thought for a moment as the companions shared a dubious look, “What is it you ask of us?”
“The Sacrament began a week ago, but the Vanguard is still gathering components to use in the rite. There are portals in the tower of the way, the tower you initially entered, that are attuned to destinations where some of these components can be found. If you use them, and get to the components first, the creature they are calling may be weakened.”
“Weakened? Can this rite not be stopped?”
No, it is too late to stop it completely. Too many of the components have been assembled. Your only hope lies in thwarting the collection of the last relics necessary for the rites and in harrying the so-called leaders of the Vanguard as they seek to complete their plans.”
“What are these relics you speak of?”
“There are four remaining. You would seek the phylactery of a lich, the king’s scepter, the blood of a race of fey and a stone tablet that was touched by Sertrous himself.”
“A moment please while I speak with my companions.” Celtir turned to the others and they whispered back and forth for a moment. Once the discussion was complete Celtir turned to Zoldathra once again. “What must we do to accomplish this?”
Having agreed to the task and taking the time to rest and heal, the companions finally returned to the Tower of the Way. Having been instructed in their use they moved to the portals. Wencis turned to the others, “Which one first?”
A brief discussion and it was settled – the Lich’s phylactery.
Stepping through the appropriate portal, they found themselves in a swamp. Small islets of dry land rose from murky water in spots. Cypress trees moss-heavy branches over their heads and the scent of greenery and decay was almost overwhelming.
In the distance, crumbling walls of stone rose from the waters. Most stood some ten feet in height, though the southwest corner and a narrow chimney to the east were taller. These appeared to be the remains of an old keep, lost now to the swamp.
Ahead of them a serpentine form coiled and uncoiled within the cover of a large cypress tree. Its humanoid head watched in the direction of the ruins. Amid the crumbling walls, also crouching for cover, they saw a green skinned woman of hideous visage. Almost simultaneously the two creatures noticed the companions.
As Frankie and Wencis moved toward the green skinned hag, a glowing bead flew from the Naga and the resulting Fireball engulfed the Hag as well as the two companions. Celtir fired his bow at the Naga, as Bootsy ran into the muck to close the distance between himself and the creature.
The battlefield was quickly covered with balls and rays of fire, lightning bolts and magic missiles from Bootsy, the Hag and the Naga. Celtir continued to target the Naga with his bow Frankie and Wencis closed with the Hag, striking and slashing at her when they had the chance. They both were engulfed by the Fireballs and other spells that were targeted upon the hag by the Naga.
Having suffered wounds from both Frankie and Wencis the Hag cast a quick spell and disappeared, reappearing a short distance away, behind a cypress tree. A burst of Magic Missiles from the Hag dropped Wencis to the ground. Celtir quickly ran over and healed his wounds as Frankie charged the Hag and finally was able to strike her down. As Bootsy summoned forth an Acid Arrow that burned the Naga’s Flesh, the others moved to close with the serpent. Celtir prayers to Solonor were answered in the form of an energy filled storm that burned at the flesh of the creature. Between the continuing effects of the storm and the burning acid, the Naga quickly fell.
Searching the area, they found little of value, though they did locate a small jeweled box on the Hag that they believed was the object of their quest. The companions quickly returned through the portal.
After another quick discussion wherein Wencis pointed out the fact that living creatures may be in danger, they decided to check on the Fey.
Stepping through the portal they found themselves in a sunlit glade of deep green. Great trees towered above them and the smell of growing things filled the air. From ahead, they heard the sound of falling water.
Celtir looked about, sniffed the air and knew right away, “We’re too late.” Over it all he could detect the faint coppery smell of blood on the faint breeze. The companions moved forward.
The forest opened up to reveal a small inlet on the shore of a lake. A narrow waterfall plummeted from a tree filed hill into a grotto lined with glistening stones. Where the water churned into a white froth, a number of corpses floated face down and others were scattered along the banks.
Over the roar of the water Celtir heard a sound, like a faint whisper. A gentle voice that seemed to emanate from the water fall was calling his name. As he stepped into the water, the shimmering mist of the falls suddenly took the shape of a woman’s face. Her features marked her as one of the Fey, but her eyes were glazed over with sadness.
“I fear you are too late to aid us,” she whispered into his mind, “Yet you have the chance to avenge us.”
Standing there in the water, Celtir knew he had received the blessing of the Fey.
----------
Having returned through the portal, the companions had decided the king’s scepter would be next.
The air where they arrived was warm and the ground was dusty. High cliffs stretched in either direction all the way to the horizon. Two sharp ravines cut through them forming narrow valleys. Only scattered foliage broke the monotonous view of the landscape.
Stepping into the ravine to their right, the companions felt a dry wind whipping through it that shrouded the echo of their footsteps and the calls of distant birds. Coming around a corner they were confronted with a reptilian creature covered in rust-red scales with horns on it head. It had a massive mace in one hand and a shield in the other, its two pronged tail twitched as tough with a mind of its own.
Frankie charged foreword, slashing at the creature with his axe with Wencis close behind striking the creature with his hammer. A sparkling ray shot from Bootsy’s hand striking the creature square in the chest and it seemed to sag as if weakened. Celtir cast Air Walk and climbed into the air. With a speed that astonished the companions, the creature turned on Frankie and quickly smashed him three times with his mace, gored him with its horns and slashed him with its tail. Frankie’s magical armor absorbed much of the impact but the creature left him bloodied. He quickly answered the creatures blow’s with two of his own as his companions gave the creature all they had. An Acid Arrow from Bootsy, two arrows from Celtir and Wencis’ hammer all slammed into the great creature but it seemed undaunted as it pummeled Frankie again with another series of attacks. Knowing he would not stand against another of this creature’s devastating attacks, Frankie carefully fell back. Luckily the attacks from his companions dropped the creature where it stood.
As Celtir lowered himself back to the ground he hurried over to where Frankie was to heal some of his more grievous wounds. As they turned to continue on their way down the ravine, another one of the creatures appeared, squeezing out from a narrow space in the rock.
Once again Frankie fearlessly charged forward and Bootsy fired another Enfeebling ray at the creature. Wencis’ Hammer and two arrows from Celtir followed close behind. Frankie was subjected to another round of attacks from this creature, once again leaving him bloodied. Frankie stood his ground, slashing back at the creature with his axe as an Acid Arrow from Bootsy burned at the creatures flesh. Wencis slammed at the creature with his electrically charged hammer and Celtir petitioned Solonor for another of his Holy Storms. Though both Frankie and Wencis suffered from the creature’s attacks, the companions were able to dispatch it quickly.
Celtir once again offered a bout of healing and soon the companions were ready to advance through the ravine once more.
Things moved pretty quickly this session, worked through quite a bit. Yay!
Tristan was absent again. Doh!
A lot of spells flying and a lot of damage dealt by all (opponents included). Yay! (Doh!)
We have a marathon session planned to wrap up the trilogy. Yay!
Tristan will miss the endgame. Doh!
Yes, we’re quickly working up to the climax which will take place this coming Sunday, August 10th. We will have a long session (6 hours compared to the usual 2.5) that should wrap up the campaign and this story hour. I hope to bring these characters back someday to continue their adventuring careers (Barring TPK), but for now we’ll be switching to High Clerics campaign.
I’m very interested to see how they do in the last encounter. I will say this, I’m running the last encounter as is. We’ll see how it goes. We’ll find out on Sunday. Hopefully you’ll know by the end of next week.
Before they could go on, Bootsy stopped them. “These have been some tough characters. We may need all the muscle we can get. I found a few scrolls in the fortress. Two of them are Divine, but one is an Arcane Scroll of Dispel Magic. Maybe it’s powerful enough to get Tristan Back.” Pulling out the scrolls he gave two to Celtir and then raised the third and invoked its magic. In a flash, the tiny viper that was Tristan quickly reverted to his normal form. Just as quickly, the gnome was transformed into a tiny viper.
The companions stood silent for a moment before Wencis spoke up. “What just happened?”
Celtir bent over the new tiny viper in their midst to pick it up, but it lashed out at his hand, trying to sink its tiny teeth into the cleric. “It’s hard to be sure, but I think the scroll may have been cursed. While it did dispel the magic that was affecting Tristan, Bootsy seems to have fallen victim to the effect that was dispelled.”
Frankie looked down at the angry serpent. “Has his mind gone as well?”
Celtir was finally able to grab Bootsy just behind the head and the tiny snake finally relented. “No. He’s just pissed.”
As they gathered the gnomes equipment and Frankie shouldered the Haversack a new threat appeared. Flying out from behind a boulder was a floating orb with six eyestalks and a large central eye. Two beams lanced out at Wencis who was able to dodge them both. Frankie and Celtir quickly drew and fired their bows, both arrows barely grazing the creature. Wencis ran forward launching his hammer at the creature as Tristan took a moment to summon Moro to his side.
The creature fired two more beams at Wencis, one of them burning him slightly, though he was able to dodge the worst of it. The creature was pummeled by hammer and arrow once again as Moro suddenly appeared. The Celestial Dire Wolf leapt into the air and fastened its teeth into the hovering creature and bore it to the ground where the wolf savagely ripped it apart.
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Examining the large cave where the creature had come from, they found a strange sculpture at the back of the cave. A large golden rod supported an array of six smaller gems on rods of brass. A seventh, larger gem formed a centerpiece, also held in place by brass. The design of the piece resembled a beholder, though the sculptor seemingly ran out of material halfway through. The gold and gems were clearly of greater worth than the bits of brass used to bind them all together.
Wencis approached the sculpture to get a closer look. “I think this is the scepter we seek.” He tilted his head as he gazed at it. “Yes, the scepter has been used to make this sculpture. I think I might be able to reassemble it given time.”
The companions took a moment to assess the situation and their state of readiness. Celtir finally spoke up, “We can rest here. Perhaps you can reassemble the scepter while we’re here.”
Wencis nodded and got to work. Focusing his mind he reshaped his essentia into a pair of ghostly gloves and started to work on disassembling the strange artwork. He found it more difficult than he expected, and unused to this type of work ended up inadvertently snapping off a small piece of the scepter.
Hearing Wencis’ curse, Celtir stepped over. “I think I have a simple prayer that could mend that.” Bowing his head and holding the pieces together, the piece was reattached by the power of Solonor. Smiling in satisfaction, Celtir stepped back to allow Wencis to continue his work.
It was difficult and frustrating work, but Wencis finally was successful in disassembling the piece. Reassembling turned out to be another matter. Without knowing exactly how the scepter was shaped he was unable to put it back in any useable condition. Knowing he could not succeed, he sat down in frustration to try and get some rest.
Seeing Wencis’ unsuccessful attempt, Celtir tried to reassure him, “Perhaps it’s enough that it cannot be used in the ritual.”
Wencis just frowned and nodded.
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Returning to the fortress, the companions made ready to enter the next portal. Celtir murmured a quick prayer and there was a quick burst of light that filled the area and seemed to settle into each one of the companions. “According to Zoldathra this is the portal that takes us to another plane. This should protect us from any environment issues. Poisoned or lack of air, temperature extremes, that type of thing. Just remember you can still be hurt, gravity still affects you and magical affects will still harm you.” The others nodded and they all stepped through.
Instead of taking them to a new location as the other portals had, the green glow that wrapped around them suddenly flared. Every inch of their skin felt like it had been lanced with white hot needles even as their bones froze from the inside out. Just as they felt they could stand it no longer, they found themselves standing on cracked and broken earth. The portal behind them crackled and spit violently, its green light shot through with streaks of red.
Looking around, the companions saw huge boulders towering around them, half buried in the desiccated earth. As they started to move they noticed that no shadows marked the ground on the barren landscape. Above them the sky glowed a dull rust red with no clouds or sign of sun. A few dead trees dotted the landscape, while a dry streambed strewn with rocks cut through the ground ahead of them. Far beyond, sporadic hills marked the foot of a jagged black peak.
Frankie headed for on of the tall boulders nearby. “Maybe a birds-eye view would tell us which way to go.”
Having climbed up the side of the boulder with relative ease, Frankie got a good look around. The dry, cracked earth spread out in every direction with few notable features other than the mountain. Looking toward the mountain he saw movement in the streambed not far from his companions. Behind a pile of stones was a roiling dark mass of writhing tendrils. The creature was coming around the rocks and headed in their direction. Then, a little closer to his companions, a hideous creature stood and drew a bow. The creature was probably once a Yuan-Ti, but its eyes were empty pools of blackness and its limbs seemed abnormally long.
Before Frankie could even react to what he saw, the Yuan-Ti let fly two arrows. One barely scratched his left arm, the other would have pierced his heart had he not spun when the arrow struck, causing it to glance off his armor and pierce his left arm instead. Yelling to his friends he quickly snapped off the arrow tip and pulled out the arrow even as he was sliding down the boulder to the ground.
As the companions spread out and advance on the approaching enemy they noticed some strange effects. Celtir and Frankie found themselves standing in a location some distance from where they intended to be, as if they had somehow shifted from where they had been. As Wencis approached the Yuan-Ti he sudden felt the ground beneath him shift and drop away and he dropped into a pit that had not been there a moment ago. Arrows from Frankie and Celtir still pierced the Yuan-Ti. While the creature bled freely from its wounds it showed no sign slowing and quickly retaliated with two more shots that barely missed Frankie yet again. Preparing to climb out of the pit, Wencis suddenly found himself back on the surface a short distance from the pit. Raising his hammer he threw it at writhing mass of tentacles as Tristan charged the creature, slashing it with Merthuvial. The creature quickly snatched up Tristan in one of its tentacles and started to squeeze. As the creature lifted him from the ground, a pit opened beneath Tristan’s feet. Had the creature not lifted him into the air, Tristan would have surely dropped into the pit. Dropping his bow for a weapon he was much more comfortable using, Frankie ran up and slashed through the writhing blackness with his axe. The mass seemed to lose its cohesion and slowly dissipated, dropping Tristan to the ground next to the pit. Two more arrows from Celtir and an electrically charged hammer from Wencis quickly dropped the Yuan-Ti.
Once the combat ended, the random effects seemed to decrease in intensity for a bit and the companions were able to organize a search of the Yuan-Ti’s body. On his body they found the stone tablet, the last item on their list of artifacts.
Now the companions found themselves wondering what to do with them. The tablet radiated evil, but did not appear to be magical. Noting that the random effects were becoming more prevalent once more, Celtir magically shaped a nearby stone to look like the tablet, in case they should need a decoy, and then they stepped back through the portal.
Unwilling to return to face whatever Zoldathra had planned for them at less than full strength, the companions went back through the portal that led to the cave where they found the scepter to rest.
“Took you long enough,” Zoldathra sneered as the companions arrived in the library. “Have you succeeded in your task?”
Celtir just smiled. “Are we too late?”
“No, but the rite is almost complete. You must hurry to enter the Tower of Worlds and interrupt the ritual before it can be completed. You will have no chance at all if you do not interrupt Sulvaugren.”
“So we have heard. Show us the way, if you would.”
Zoldathra led them down a ramp to the next level down. There stood a single portal. “This will take you where you need to go.”
Celtir looked to Zoldathra, “What will we find when we get there?”
“I cannot be sure, though you can bet the tower will be guarded. His exact plans for the ritual are a closely guarded secret he has shared with only his elite priests and they are with him in the tower. I only have a general idea of what has taken place by what has gone through the portal, how much time has elapsed and my personal knowledge of the ritual.” With a smile Zoldathra added, “Good luck, you will need it.”
Still unsure of what they had gotten themselves into, the companions stepped through the portal. The arch they stepped out of was in the center of a room. From the ceiling, corpses in various stages of decay hung by chains and rusty hooks. Suddenly the light of the arch winked out and a massive shape rose from the darkness.
A mass of hairless, blubbery flesh surrounded them on all sides. Countless screaming mouths, rending claws and bloodstained teeth were all they could see. The flurry of activity that followed would have been hard to follow even if it hadn’t occurred in near darkness. All the companions slashed and pounded at the wretched tide of flesh that had engulfed them. Focusing his mind only on his prayers, Celtir was able to call forth a holy storm that burned at the flesh of the swarming creatures. Moro bit at the creatures as Frankie and Tristan slashed at them. Wencis pounded them again and again with his hammer. It was impossible for the companions to escape the grasping claws and rending teeth of the creatures as there were far too many to keep track of and each of the companions were quickly covered in bleeding wounds.
Using all the skill they could, as well as a fair amount of magic and brute strength, the companions were finally able to decimate the mob and win through. As Frankie, Tristan and Wencis quickly moved to cut down the last few remnants of the mob, Celtir was already focusing on his healing prayers to close the wounds of all the companions as his summoned storm continued to swirl about the chamber.
The companions moved toward the only notable feature in the room besides the darkened portal, a set of descending stairs along the western edge of the room.
At the bottom of the stairs they found a room that was brightly lit by the glowing eyes and mouths of stone cobra heads that adorned the walls. The floor of the room was sloped and an enormous serpent was etched into the stones.
Two hideous creatures slithered toward them, each with the body of a worm, the head of a snake and long, sinuous arms. They recognized them as the same type of creature Xernon had summoned back in the Barrow of the Forgotten King. Beyond them loomed a scaled figure, its hair a mass of serpents. In the blink of an eye Tristan was turned to stone. Averting their gazes the companions charged into the room at the snakes while Moro, angered by the loss on his master, charged the Medusa, tearing at her flesh pulling at her, causing her to fall prone. Wencis, his eyes closed, used his soul magic to detect the presence of the Medusa and was able to launch his hammer and successfully strike the creature. As the Medusa tried to stand, Moro was quick to savage her once again, ripping out her throat and dropping her to the ground once more, never to rise again.
Frankie and Celtir wasted no time and attacked the two serpentine creatures with axe and bow. The worst threat having been eliminated Moro and Wencis turned to assist their friends. The creatures quickly fell to the companion’s onslaught.
Once it was over, they turned to where Tristan's unmoving form stood. Moro sniffed at the statue that was his former master, and then with a soft whimper lay at his master’s feet like a massive eight hundred pound puppy.
Celtir pulled out a couple of scrolls. “The divine scrolls Bootsy found might be able to break the enchantment that he is under.” He quickly unraveled the first scroll and, when its magic failed to overcome the enchantment, just as quickly unraveled the second. With the second casting, Tristan was finally returned to flesh.
Opening an ornate set of double doors on the southern wall the companions found themselves standing before a darkened stair that rose upward and outward. The journey up the stair was unsettling. Interrupted only by a sheet of flame that seared each of the characters, the trip up the stairs seemed to take an inordinate amount of time. After a number of minutes, the exact number could not be agreed upon by the companions, they arrived at another set of double doors.
Each of the companions knew the source of the quest they had started in the distant town of Kingsholm, was near at hand.
The chamber beyond glowed with the light of demonic fire that seemed to burn the air itself. Three stone biers covered with serpentine imagery stood across the chamber. Two contained what appeared to be bodies wrapped in funeral shrouds. On the third, central bier was set a careful arrangement of yellowed bones. Three Yuan-Ti in ceremonial robes and hoods stood in a triangle around the biers, chanting in sibilant tones. Brass braziers emitted a noxious purple smoke.
A forth Yuan-Ti that gave true meaning to the term Abomination stood before the central bier. He was monstrously obese, with multiple folds of scaly skin hanging from his jowls and neck. Rivulets of blood bubbled up from beneath his black eyes and flowed freely down his face.
Before the creatures could react, the companions charged into the room. Wencis quickly ran up to the first chanting Yuan-Ti and was surprised to find it so engrossed in its evil litany that it made no attempt to defend itself as he struck it down.
Tristan approached the other chanter and seeing it unwilling to face him in combat raised Merthuvial above his head and charged the huge Yuan-Ti abomination. Moro ran up, and placing his paws upon the central bier, sank his teeth into the large abomination. Wencis’ hammer struck the creature as well. Frankie quickly ran through, dispatching the chanting Yuan-Ti Tristan had passed up and worked his way around the room. Celtir called out a prayer to Solonor, summoning a holy storm that almost filled the entire room and burned at the Yuan-Ti.
The great Abomination tore into Moro with scimitar and teeth, shouting all the while, “Fools! I am Sulvaugren, Master of Worlds! Welcome to your Doom!”
Frankie quickly dispatched the last chanting Yuan-Ti and followed up with an attack against Sulvaugren, slashing at him from behind.
Sulvaugren savaged Moro once again and blood matted the great wolf’s fur as the other companions rained blows on Sulvaugren’s tough hide. Two slashing cuts from Frankie earned him Sulvaugren’s attention and the large abomination spun on him and savaged Frankie with tooth and blade. Frankie was left so bloodied by the attack, Celtir had to shift his position to heal him lest he be killed by Sulvaugren’s next attack.
Sulvaugren was also bloodied by the combined attacks of the companions and continued to be burned by Celtir’s Holy Storm. Seeing his end was near, Sulvaugren called out, “You cannot defeat me! If you strike me down I shall become more powerful than you could possibly imagine!”
As he was viciously attacked by the companions, his flesh continuously burned from the storm, he raised his arms above his head and cried out, “For Sertrous!” before falling to the floor in a heap.
Wencis looked to Celtir, “I have a bad feeling about this. I don’t think it’s over yet. You best deal out all the healing you can as quickly as possible.”
Tristan and Celtir did all they could as quickly as possible, healing all the companions most grievous wounds.
An instant later a dull thrumming filled the room as the floor began to shake and crack. With a sound like thunder, the central bier shattered and exploded, filling the chamber with a cloud of dust and rock.
Slowly the dust cleared revealing a large winged humanoid abomination. The Risen King had arrived. Rotting, green, slimy skin was stretched taught over exposed bone and sinew. The creature flexed its sharp claws and a roar came from a face filled with a mass of tentacles that hid the creature’s mouth full of razor sharp teeth.
Even as the creature appeared, the companion’s felt another presence. The Forgotten King was here as well! His energy filled them and the weapons and artifact that once belong to the King and his followers. They suddenly knew what weapons they had that would be most effective. They new that the King would bolster their skills and abilities, allowing them to do things they might otherwise be incapable of. They knew this was the final battle in their quest for the Bones of the Forgotten King.
The moment passed as Celtir suddenly writhed in pain as a swarm of serpents seemed to burst forth from his skin, falling to the floor all around him. Then the creature slashed at Moro with tooth and claw leaving him bleeding heavily once more. The companions unleashed their attacks, but found the creature’s tough hide almost impossible to penetrate. Those weapons that did slash through its tough hide barely seemed to leave a wound. The only weapon that seemed effective when it struck was Merthuvial and for that, Tristan was the next to suffer grievous wounds at the claws of the beast.
Celtir knew they could not face this creature in a stand up fight. “Fall back! Back to the room below!” He cried, before using the power of the Forgotten King to utter a prayer to summon another Holy Storm.
Frankie took one last slash with his axe and ran for the door, the beast raking his back as he withdrew. Trying to buy time for his companions, Tristan raised his blade, summoning help from the Celestial Plane, “To Me!” he cried. A Celestial Hippogriff answered his call, appearing behind the Risen King. Though the Hippogriff’s attacks were ineffective, the creature would help create a distraction so the companions could fall back.
Just as Wencis and Celtir were about to join their companions at the door a large section of the floor was suddenly covered by ten foot long tentacles that grappled anything they could reach. The two found themselves unable to overcome the unbelievable strength of the black tentacles. Tristan and Moro stood their ground before the Risen King, unwilling to fall back and leave any of their friends behind.
Demonstrating incredible concentration on both their parts, both Celtir and Wencis were able to call upon their divinely gifted abilities to escape. Wencis, using the power of the Forgotten King, called upon an ability that others like him might possess and created a Dimensional Door to escape from the clutches of the tentacles. Celtir simply petitioned Solonor for the ability to move freely, unrestrained by most bonds and quickly retreated to the door.
Celtir called out again, “Down the stair everyone!”
The companions ran to the stair as one. Tristan and Moro both suffered raking attacks as they disengaged from the Risen King, but all the companions were able to make it to the stairs.
The Risen King took a moment to dispatch the Hippogriff and then quickly followed the companions.
Once again it seemed to take minutes to traverse the stairs and to buy a little more time, Wencis quickly shut the doors then backed away as Celtir prayed for a Wall of Stone to appear directly in front of it. Just as the spell was completed, the companions heard the blows of the Risen King ripping into the doors and stone. They quickly formulated a plan as Celtir doled out healing. Surround it. Flank it. Summon another Holy Storm. Tristan, Moro and Celtir hid on the Stairwell going up to the entry-room as Frankie and Wencis stood along the northern and eastern walls to draw the creature out.
All too soon the wall of stone was reduced to a pile of stone and the Risen King rushed into the room, slashing and biting Frankie. The others surrounded the creature on all sides, hacking and slashing as Celtir prayed for another Holy Storm.
As the storm appeared, burning at the flesh of the Risen King, the creature glanced at Celtir and once again, a swarm of snakes burst from his flesh leaving Celtir bloodied. The creature then returned its full attention to Frankie, who, against his better judgment, had switched from his trusty great axe to a small rusty dagger that the spirit of the Forgotten King had been telling him all along would be more effective than his great axe. Wouldn’t you know it, the damn spirit was right. Frankie just shook his head and continued his attacks.
Seeing that the companions were taking a serious beating, Wencis realized they would have to fall back again. “Go! Everyone upstairs! I might be able to trap this creature!”
The others had no idea what Wencis was talking about, but then again none of them truly understood his abilities or knew what he was capable of, so they made for the stairs as Celtir released a burning ray of energy that seared the creature. They felt despair when they saw Wencis caught in writhing black tentacles again and then suffer the savage attacks of the Risen King, but once again he was able to Dimension Door out. The others ran up the stairs as quickly as possible.
Then, just as he was about to spring his plan, Wencis writhed in pain. This time he was the subject of the Risen King’s Serpent Wrath. Hundreds of serpents burst from Wencis’ skin leaving him a bloody mess. Wencis slumped to the floor and did not rise.
With a roar, the Risen King turned to the stairs and started up. Up above, the chamber was lit by the strobe effects of Celtir’s and Tristan’s Positive Energy Bursts. All too soon the Risen King was among them slashing and biting.
Celtir once again summoned a Holy Storm as the others slashed with their weapons. Once more, the Risen king focused his rage on Frankie. When Frankie dropped to the floor in a bloody heap, Tristan was the next to suffer under the Risen King’s wrath.
All the damage they had inflicted was starting to show. The Storm burned at the flesh of the Risen King and, as it raised itself to its full height and let out a loud roar of anger, Tristan saw his opening and thrust Merthuvial into the evil heart of the beast. Even as the vile beast vomited blood it seemed prepared to strike Tristan down. Praying to Solonor once more Celtir sent another searing ray of energy that blasted the face of the beast, burning the flesh from its skull.
With a disgusting gurgle, the Risen King fell and slowly dissolved until there was nothing left but a pile of bones.
Yes, the trilogy has ended. It took the whole 6 hours to finish, but it’s done.
The running battle at the end was probably the highlight for all. The hit and run tactic was probably the only chance they had.
Some may notice I changed a few things. For one, the Risen King did not look like a human. I had a good mini I wanted to use, so I went for it. The abilities were basically the same but with 2 claws instead of multiple bastard sword attacks. I also removed his fast healing, the poison effects of the Evard’s Black Tentacles (The outrageous grapple check was bad enough) and the snake swarm from his Serpents Wrath didn’t contribute beyond the squares into which they appeared (once you moved they wouldn’t follow). Other than that, they defeated the Risen King as written.
Bootsy was absent. I think it would have made a big difference having an arcane caster.
We had a good laugh about Frankie having to switch from a great axe to a rusty dagger. Frankie loves his axe.
Frankie and Wencis both Survived. Wencis goes down, time for his first stabilization check, low roll to stabilize – 01%.
Frankie goes down, time for his first stabilization check, MundinIronHand passes his dice to Frankie, low roll to stabilize – 01%.
Thank you to any who have taken the time to read of our adventures, I hope you enjoyed the journey. A special thanks to those few (3) who posted. It was great to read your posts.
I had hoped for more input, not about my writing or the quality (or lack thereof) of the writing (I have no illusions about that), but just to know who’s out there. I had really hoped to hear from others who had played the trilogy and how things went for them, but perhaps this series wasn’t very popular.
What will the Companions of the Barrow face in the future? Well, if we have the opportunity, I think it might be aquatic in theme. (Night of the Shark trilogy, converted to 3.5 perhaps?)
Thanks again to all. Now I have to put the finishing touches on my Human Duskblade (Sword and Board or Cheesy Spiked Chain?) for High Clerics campaign which will hopefully start at the end of September. We also have to figure out what we’ll do until he’s ready… Tristan says he has something in mind…
By some small miracle all had survived the battle. Once all were healed back to consciousness, the companions returned to the ritual chamber and searched through the rubble of the room. They found little intact. The sudden arrival of the Risen King had destroyed much of the chamber. As for Sulvagren, there was almost nothing left. All they found was a small amount of his equipment. The shield that had been stolen from the barrow was taken by Tristan. Nearby in a small pouch they found a bone scroll tube. Sealed within was a short note.
Sulvagren,
Our preparations are almost complete. The Army of the Dragon is gathering. We shall strike Elsir Vale from the North and West while you strike from the South and East. We have established an outpost nearby to monitor activities along the western border of the Vale. Indeed, Drellin’s Ferry shall be the first to fall to our might.
Once your summoning is complete and your forces are ready, we shall crush the Northern Kingdom and then we shall move on to the other border kingdoms. The Realms will be ours!
While the Army of the Dragon is almost prepared, I will continue to add to their strength with the Gifts of Our Lady, summoned forth from Our Lady’s Infernal Court, Avernus.
Soon the all the realms will kneel before our might!
Azarr Kul.
Next to the signature was inscribed a red hand, five fingers outstretched.
Wencis looked up from the parchment. “Looks like we need to get out of here quickly and make our way to Elsir Vale.”
With a renewed sense of purpose, the companions gathered their equipment, and made their way back to the portal.
Well, it looks like the companions will not be returning anytime soon.
After a short campaign by Tristans player (Which I hope may continue someday, I was having fun w/ my Barbarian/Dragon Shaman) we had a spur of the moment need to change campaigns. Since changing Red Hand to an adventure for 8th level characters was a bit too much work for spur of the moment (about 1 hours notice) we switched to Shackled City with fresh 1st level characters.
A lot more opportunity for Role Playing and NPC interaction with this one. The group has had a great start to chapter one so far. Hopefully it's at least as enjoyable as the Barrow trilogy.
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