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Brides of Orcus! (4e KotS- Complete)
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<blockquote data-quote="Pour" data-source="post: 4427879" data-attributes="member: 59411"><p><span style="color: #333399"><strong><span style="font-size: 18px"><span style="color: DarkRed">Session 5: Into the Keep</span></span></strong></span></p><p><span style="color: #333399"><strong></strong></span></p><p><span style="color: #333399"><strong>Legend of the Keep</strong></span></p><p>Valthrun explained the grim history he shared with the keep:</p><p></p><p>"The fort was so old, no one remembered why it was built. It had always stood upon the foothills, a monument to empires long fallen. Dragons had overtaken these lands since those old kingdoms fell and we were slaves below them. That was the reality we knew. But there had to be a cure for their domination... I studied long hours in the Stone Tower, under my mentor Finius, until I stumbled upon an ancient tome. It explained the keep was a safeguard against a tear in reality, a portal into the Shadowfell.</p><p></p><p>The Shadowfell is a realm of darkness, a black mirror of our own, where all things malevolent lurk, including a demon god named Orcus. I thought I could somehow harness the portal to throw off the shackles of our dragon overlords, thinking anything better than a life under their heartless whims. How wrong I was..."</p><p></p><p><span style="color: #333399"><strong>Valthrun's Lament</strong></span></p><p>"I ventured to the keep and braved the terrors, delving to the final chamber before the shadowy portal. There I made a pact with a nameless voice, what I knew in my heart of hearts was Orcus. He agreed to help Winterhaven achieve freedom if I was willing to help him achieve the same. I said yes." He looked most ashamed. "A blood-red demon arm the size of a giant's tore through the portal, opening its massive claw and giving me a crystal demon skull. With <span style="color: #FF0000"><em>The Bane of Dragonkind</em></span> I could destroy the town's oppressors. And when I was finished, I would return with three women and three scriptures hidden in the catacombs of the Avandran Temple to fulfill my end."</p><p></p><p>I used the crystal skull against the ancient white dragon Polarbite and slew him instantly, but the cost was my brother Keegan's soul, cast out of his body and into the ether to forever roam the world as a tortured ghost. The crystal skull, you see, exacted a terrible price for its terrible power, the suffering and loss of the one you love most." He sighed so heavily you though he might succumb and fall into a troubled sleep.</p><p></p><p>A few moments later, "The surviving white dragons fled, leaving me a hero, a lonely, wretched, rueful hero. Shattered and nearly mad, I buried the skull with Polarbite, hoping never again to deal with dragons, relics, demons or my own guilt."</p><p></p><p>He clenched his eyes shut, pulling slightly at his shaggy mane. "Yet every night Orcus haunts my dreams and reminds me of my end. I have endured his obscene nightmares for nearly a century! Magic staves much need for sleep and my guilt outweighs any sort of demonic torture or offering." He draws the sweat from his brow. "However I fear Kalarel, my ambitious apprentice, was not so strong-willed... From the news you've told me, he has turned, and used the knowledge in my tower to help realize my greatest shame. Ninalya with him."</p><p></p><p><span style="color: #333399"><strong>Brides of Orcus</strong></span></p><p>He looks up into the group's collective eyes, seeming to stare into each member's soul. "Please. You must undo the folly I began a hundred years ago. You must go into the keep and stop Kalarel before he sacrifices the Brides of Orcus. Their deaths will activate the portal and from there the scriptures will begin to pull the demon god through. Please save them. Save us all... Oh Lena, dear, sweet Lena..."</p><p></p><p>And it dawned on you then that another woman was missing, Sister Linora, perfect candidate as a Bride. But the third? Why not Ninalya herself?</p><p></p><p>The group asked if there was anything else he could tell them, to which he answered Ninalya was an arachnophobe. Kalarel, on the other hand, had no weaknesses besides his occasional cruel streak. He was Valthrun's finest student.</p><p></p><p>The sage granted permission to look through the kitchen for signs of the sneaky elf who came in the back door. He also warned that his magic showed goblins, hobgoblins, bugbears and undead lurking in the keep.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: #333399"><strong>Looking for a Snack</strong></span></p><p>As the ranger searched for the blood trail, which seemed to have been hastily mopped up so as to throw off such pursuit, the fighter wandered into the pantry and pulled down a particular shelf in his own pursuit of a snack. The pantry compartment groaned downward, revealing a long, dark, winding passageway. The dragonborn was most upset, but the group was quite pleased.</p><p></p><p>They decided to get some much-needed rest before venturing in, taking watches through the night, all of which were uneventful.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: #333399"><strong>The Long Tunnel</strong></span></p><p>After a little arguing over the best way to proceed down the tunnel, light or no light, who goes first sort of things, the party traveled a long three hours in absolute darkness before hearing guttural, goblin laughter, the slapping of guts, the tearing of meat, and the chitter of rats. Torch light flickered down the ways, revealing an opening into a chamber.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: #333399"><strong>Goblin Guard Room</strong></span></p><p>The group blitzed into a room of goblin guards, quickly disabling a drawbridge allowing access to a rat pit that would have made things MUCH more complicated. The ravenous swarm aside, goblin sharp shooters still managed to fire in the chinks between armor and seriously injure the warlord. However, tragedy was averted thanks to some quick team work, wise healing, superior fighting prowess and sound tactics. In little time the filthy cretins were done for.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: #333399"><strong>Feed 'em to the Rats!</strong></span></p><p>In a unanimous decision nearly spoken all at once, the group kicked the corpses into the pit, getting rid of the evidence. In no time at all, the filthy rodents had picked the bones clean.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: #333399"><strong>Goblin Excavation</strong></span></p><p>The group chose one of many possible routes to take, entering into a dug-out room with a half-dozen goblin diggers and three pet guard drakes. They were arguing amongst themselves atop pillars of preexisting floor linked by wooden boards which teetered over an excavation ten feet below. The fighting seemed to be over the lack of treasure supposed to be in the area.</p><p></p><p>The wizard cleverly sent a few spells that made it seem nearby goblins had insulted each other. Fist fights erupted, giving the perfect opportunity to barge in. However, the group did not attack, as the fight looked like it would have been a hard one. Instead they posed as superior officers in the ranks, demanding to know why no treasure was found.</p><p></p><p>Those not busy fighting meekly asked if Balgron had sent the group.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: #333399"><strong>Balgron the Fat</strong></span></p><p>Some in the group recognized the name of the infamous goblin smuggler, pimp, extortionist, thief and rapist. He'd terrorized the whole of the region for some time, escaping justice more times than a goblin could count. He was a bully and a leader among his people, now apparently in the employ of Kalarel.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: #333399"><strong>Get Back to Work!</strong></span></p><p>They ordered the goblins back to work, which they scurried back to without much trouble, though the guard drakes seemed less impressed with the act. They slowly began to stalk forward, unfamiliar with the group's scent and so trained to attack.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: #333399"><strong>You Killed Fluffy!</strong></span></p><p>A goblin managed to tug two of the monsters away, but Fluffy the alpha drake was unconvinced and leaped for the fighter's neck. Between the dragonborn and the ranger it went down swiftly, causing much of the room to jolt and double their digging efforts. The goblin trainer began to sob uncontrollably, having raised that drake from an egg, and the other drakes howled in mourning.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: #333399"><strong>Bustin' Down Doors</strong></span></p><p>The group returned to the guard room and from there chose another door to explore beyond. However, it was locked, and no matter their skills, no one seemed capable of picking it. Luckily there was another answer and the door was promptly broken down. Discolored stairs led down into dank, rotten darkness.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: #333399"><strong>Terror Runes!</strong></span></p><p>They emptied into a shadowy, cold cellar with expansive, winding halls, pillars and chambers. It smelled of death. Upon the floor, some noticed strange Y shaped runes, what the cleric and wizard were able to identify as Terror Runes. They would send any who stepped over them into a reasonless panic brought about by necrotic energies.</p><p></p><p>Unable to deactivate them, the group tried jumping over, which most failed. However the cleric was able to empower his allies with the fortitude of dragons and they fended away the fear. Moving further into the gloom, the ranger leaped over another rune and into an occupied room.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: #333399"><strong>The Living Dead</strong></span></p><p>A horde of rotten corpses of various races awaited him, swarming as two more-intact zombies shuffled forward from an opposite hallway. He fired on two, reducing them to puddles of gore, yet still the survivors (so to speak) came.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: #333399"><strong>Toss the Dwarf</strong></span></p><p>With the collective oomph of the group, they attempted to toss the cleric over the terror rune... to no avail. The Claw of Tiamat fell face-first onto the symbol, only to rise, brush himself off, glare backwards and walk on by. As the terror runed activated with a shriek, the dwarf matched it with a louder dwarf-dragon roar.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: #333399"><strong>Second Death</strong></span></p><p>Through a combination of combative might and holy energy, the rotters and the zombies were bashed, stunned and liquefied. Perhaps they would now find a final rest...</p><p></p><p><span style="color: #333399"><strong>The Danse Macabre</strong></span></p><p>And turning the corner, the group came face to face with a grim collection of zombies ready and waiting. One sported tattered leather wings and a hollow, sunken face. Another was immensely obese, splitting at the stitched seams with maggots and entrails. A third was cloaked in billowing cold, its blue bones glowing from beneath its blanched flesh. A fourth was a hunched Doberman missing its skin, simply bone and sinew and dripping red muscle. A fifth was conjoined twins stitched side by side, with four arms and deformed claws, that walked on backwards legs like some abominable cross between corpse and emu. The sixth was a naked, leathery crone seeping a wretched stench that steamed green and attracted a cloud of flies.</p><p></p><p>The collective smell nearly made you all vomit, to say nothing of the horrid sight. It was going to be a tough fight...</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Pour, post: 4427879, member: 59411"] [COLOR=#333399][B][SIZE=5][COLOR=DarkRed]Session 5: Into the Keep[/COLOR][/SIZE] Legend of the Keep[/B][/COLOR] Valthrun explained the grim history he shared with the keep: "The fort was so old, no one remembered why it was built. It had always stood upon the foothills, a monument to empires long fallen. Dragons had overtaken these lands since those old kingdoms fell and we were slaves below them. That was the reality we knew. But there had to be a cure for their domination... I studied long hours in the Stone Tower, under my mentor Finius, until I stumbled upon an ancient tome. It explained the keep was a safeguard against a tear in reality, a portal into the Shadowfell. The Shadowfell is a realm of darkness, a black mirror of our own, where all things malevolent lurk, including a demon god named Orcus. I thought I could somehow harness the portal to throw off the shackles of our dragon overlords, thinking anything better than a life under their heartless whims. How wrong I was..." [COLOR=#333399][B]Valthrun's Lament[/B][/COLOR] "I ventured to the keep and braved the terrors, delving to the final chamber before the shadowy portal. There I made a pact with a nameless voice, what I knew in my heart of hearts was Orcus. He agreed to help Winterhaven achieve freedom if I was willing to help him achieve the same. I said yes." He looked most ashamed. "A blood-red demon arm the size of a giant's tore through the portal, opening its massive claw and giving me a crystal demon skull. With [COLOR=#FF0000][I]The Bane of Dragonkind[/I][/COLOR] I could destroy the town's oppressors. And when I was finished, I would return with three women and three scriptures hidden in the catacombs of the Avandran Temple to fulfill my end." I used the crystal skull against the ancient white dragon Polarbite and slew him instantly, but the cost was my brother Keegan's soul, cast out of his body and into the ether to forever roam the world as a tortured ghost. The crystal skull, you see, exacted a terrible price for its terrible power, the suffering and loss of the one you love most." He sighed so heavily you though he might succumb and fall into a troubled sleep. A few moments later, "The surviving white dragons fled, leaving me a hero, a lonely, wretched, rueful hero. Shattered and nearly mad, I buried the skull with Polarbite, hoping never again to deal with dragons, relics, demons or my own guilt." He clenched his eyes shut, pulling slightly at his shaggy mane. "Yet every night Orcus haunts my dreams and reminds me of my end. I have endured his obscene nightmares for nearly a century! Magic staves much need for sleep and my guilt outweighs any sort of demonic torture or offering." He draws the sweat from his brow. "However I fear Kalarel, my ambitious apprentice, was not so strong-willed... From the news you've told me, he has turned, and used the knowledge in my tower to help realize my greatest shame. Ninalya with him." [COLOR=#333399][B]Brides of Orcus[/B][/COLOR] He looks up into the group's collective eyes, seeming to stare into each member's soul. "Please. You must undo the folly I began a hundred years ago. You must go into the keep and stop Kalarel before he sacrifices the Brides of Orcus. Their deaths will activate the portal and from there the scriptures will begin to pull the demon god through. Please save them. Save us all... Oh Lena, dear, sweet Lena..." And it dawned on you then that another woman was missing, Sister Linora, perfect candidate as a Bride. But the third? Why not Ninalya herself? The group asked if there was anything else he could tell them, to which he answered Ninalya was an arachnophobe. Kalarel, on the other hand, had no weaknesses besides his occasional cruel streak. He was Valthrun's finest student. The sage granted permission to look through the kitchen for signs of the sneaky elf who came in the back door. He also warned that his magic showed goblins, hobgoblins, bugbears and undead lurking in the keep. [COLOR=#333399][B]Looking for a Snack[/B][/COLOR] As the ranger searched for the blood trail, which seemed to have been hastily mopped up so as to throw off such pursuit, the fighter wandered into the pantry and pulled down a particular shelf in his own pursuit of a snack. The pantry compartment groaned downward, revealing a long, dark, winding passageway. The dragonborn was most upset, but the group was quite pleased. They decided to get some much-needed rest before venturing in, taking watches through the night, all of which were uneventful. [COLOR=#333399][B]The Long Tunnel[/B][/COLOR] After a little arguing over the best way to proceed down the tunnel, light or no light, who goes first sort of things, the party traveled a long three hours in absolute darkness before hearing guttural, goblin laughter, the slapping of guts, the tearing of meat, and the chitter of rats. Torch light flickered down the ways, revealing an opening into a chamber. [COLOR=#333399][B]Goblin Guard Room[/B][/COLOR] The group blitzed into a room of goblin guards, quickly disabling a drawbridge allowing access to a rat pit that would have made things MUCH more complicated. The ravenous swarm aside, goblin sharp shooters still managed to fire in the chinks between armor and seriously injure the warlord. However, tragedy was averted thanks to some quick team work, wise healing, superior fighting prowess and sound tactics. In little time the filthy cretins were done for. [COLOR=#333399][B]Feed 'em to the Rats![/B][/COLOR] In a unanimous decision nearly spoken all at once, the group kicked the corpses into the pit, getting rid of the evidence. In no time at all, the filthy rodents had picked the bones clean. [COLOR=#333399][B]Goblin Excavation[/B][/COLOR] The group chose one of many possible routes to take, entering into a dug-out room with a half-dozen goblin diggers and three pet guard drakes. They were arguing amongst themselves atop pillars of preexisting floor linked by wooden boards which teetered over an excavation ten feet below. The fighting seemed to be over the lack of treasure supposed to be in the area. The wizard cleverly sent a few spells that made it seem nearby goblins had insulted each other. Fist fights erupted, giving the perfect opportunity to barge in. However, the group did not attack, as the fight looked like it would have been a hard one. Instead they posed as superior officers in the ranks, demanding to know why no treasure was found. Those not busy fighting meekly asked if Balgron had sent the group. [COLOR=#333399][B]Balgron the Fat[/B][/COLOR] Some in the group recognized the name of the infamous goblin smuggler, pimp, extortionist, thief and rapist. He'd terrorized the whole of the region for some time, escaping justice more times than a goblin could count. He was a bully and a leader among his people, now apparently in the employ of Kalarel. [COLOR=#333399][B]Get Back to Work![/B][/COLOR] They ordered the goblins back to work, which they scurried back to without much trouble, though the guard drakes seemed less impressed with the act. They slowly began to stalk forward, unfamiliar with the group's scent and so trained to attack. [COLOR=#333399][B]You Killed Fluffy![/B][/COLOR] A goblin managed to tug two of the monsters away, but Fluffy the alpha drake was unconvinced and leaped for the fighter's neck. Between the dragonborn and the ranger it went down swiftly, causing much of the room to jolt and double their digging efforts. The goblin trainer began to sob uncontrollably, having raised that drake from an egg, and the other drakes howled in mourning. [COLOR=#333399][B]Bustin' Down Doors[/B][/COLOR] The group returned to the guard room and from there chose another door to explore beyond. However, it was locked, and no matter their skills, no one seemed capable of picking it. Luckily there was another answer and the door was promptly broken down. Discolored stairs led down into dank, rotten darkness. [COLOR=#333399][B]Terror Runes![/B][/COLOR] They emptied into a shadowy, cold cellar with expansive, winding halls, pillars and chambers. It smelled of death. Upon the floor, some noticed strange Y shaped runes, what the cleric and wizard were able to identify as Terror Runes. They would send any who stepped over them into a reasonless panic brought about by necrotic energies. Unable to deactivate them, the group tried jumping over, which most failed. However the cleric was able to empower his allies with the fortitude of dragons and they fended away the fear. Moving further into the gloom, the ranger leaped over another rune and into an occupied room. [COLOR=#333399][B]The Living Dead[/B][/COLOR] A horde of rotten corpses of various races awaited him, swarming as two more-intact zombies shuffled forward from an opposite hallway. He fired on two, reducing them to puddles of gore, yet still the survivors (so to speak) came. [COLOR=#333399][B]Toss the Dwarf[/B][/COLOR] With the collective oomph of the group, they attempted to toss the cleric over the terror rune... to no avail. The Claw of Tiamat fell face-first onto the symbol, only to rise, brush himself off, glare backwards and walk on by. As the terror runed activated with a shriek, the dwarf matched it with a louder dwarf-dragon roar. [COLOR=#333399][B]Second Death[/B][/COLOR] Through a combination of combative might and holy energy, the rotters and the zombies were bashed, stunned and liquefied. Perhaps they would now find a final rest... [COLOR=#333399][B]The Danse Macabre[/B][/COLOR] And turning the corner, the group came face to face with a grim collection of zombies ready and waiting. One sported tattered leather wings and a hollow, sunken face. Another was immensely obese, splitting at the stitched seams with maggots and entrails. A third was cloaked in billowing cold, its blue bones glowing from beneath its blanched flesh. A fourth was a hunched Doberman missing its skin, simply bone and sinew and dripping red muscle. A fifth was conjoined twins stitched side by side, with four arms and deformed claws, that walked on backwards legs like some abominable cross between corpse and emu. The sixth was a naked, leathery crone seeping a wretched stench that steamed green and attracted a cloud of flies. The collective smell nearly made you all vomit, to say nothing of the horrid sight. It was going to be a tough fight... [/QUOTE]
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