Cydra: the Early Years

[the Jester]

Rajah and the Quest for Largeness (or at least Medium-ness)

4 p.m., 7/10/96 O.L.G., somewhere on Dorhaus

“My ring, my ring, my ring!”

Thera the dryad danced in a circle, her ring held tight in her hand. She radiated joy as if she were the sun and her rays were happiness. Rajah, from his diminutive viewpoint, couldn’t help but enjoy the sight of her bouncing breasts, and from the ground he could easily see the secret things hidden by her shift.

“Ahem.” He cleared his throat, sad to interrupt her but impatient to be restored to his former stature. Of course, at his present height, his throat clearing was inaudible over the sounds of her dancing and happy cries, so he tilted back his head and let out a roar.*

Grinning ear to ear, she did a final jig and then turned to him and scooped him up. “Oh, thank you, thank you!” she bubbled, hugging his tiny form to her. Although for an instant she threatened to crush him, it was with her breasts, and he would have died happy. Damn this whole six-inch-high thing anyway!

Once he could breathe again, he asked, “What about me?”

“Oh! Of course! You want to be grown up again!”

“Something like that,” Rajah responded dryly.

“I can’t help you with that.”

“What! But you said-“

“But Jovius can,” she grinned.

“And who,” Rajah growled, “is Jovius?”

“Why, he’s a dragon.”

Noon, 7/20/96 O.L.G., somewhere on Dorhaus

“Interesting,” Jovius murmured. He grinned, and his long hollow tongue flicked out and gently poked Rajah’s chest. “Hmmm. Interesting indeed. A hint of... tiger?”

Jovius was a dragon, all right- but a faerie dragon. The fascinating creature was bigger than Rajah at present, but not by much; he and the human could look eye to eye easily.

“Can you fix it?” Rajah demanded. “Can you restore me to my full size?”

“Probably, but you ought to consider the advantages of being wee. Why, you never have to worry about whether you’ll fit through a door or-“

“Whatever. I’m a human. I want to be human sized.”

The dragon gave an elegant shrug. “I shall endeavor to do what I can,” he said huffily. “But you’re making a terrible mistake.”

The faerie dragon was true to his word. He used his native magicks to overcome the enchantment laid on Rajah by the orc’s cube of captivity, and soon Rajah was back to his normal stature. Then, that night, he returned to the dryad’s tree with his power over dream. In the morning, Thera was delighted to see him, and he spent one more night in her tree, this time engaging in the sort of passion that it really requires a fey and a mortal to achieve.**

When he woke up, he was no longer in the tree, and over two months had passed.

Next Time: Back to the pirates, just in time for you to learn about the difference between dragons and drakes!


*This was a custom psionic power for Rajah.

**As near as I can recall, this was Rajah’s only documented sexual encounter, leading me to wonder if his modern-day descendant, the so-called Tiger Princess, might have faerie blood?

 

[the Jester]

Into the Underdark

6:30 a.m., 7/30/96 O.L.G., near the Eastern Precipice, Strogass

First light. Chanticleer Gilder-Ynarlsland stood impatiently above Akakathan and Urdor as they tied rope off to the edge of the gash in the ground that led downward. Soon, they hoped, they would have success in their quest for a weapon to neutralize Dexter.

“So we killed a dragon,” enthused Vosh. The centaur druid was clopping around impatiently. He was not enthusiastic about being lowered in a harness to who-knows-what, but... what had to be done had to be done.

“Not really,” Urdor grunted. “It was a drake.”

“Huh? What’s the difference?” Vosh blinked.

“Drakes are smaller, stupider. Dragons are gods.” The dwarf glanced at the centaur. “You don’t want to try to fight a god, do you?”*

“No...”

Urdor Darkwind laughed into his beard, stroking the Black Sun of Bleak that hangs around his neck reverently.

Soon the ropes were tied and the group began descending into the Underdark. A sheer drop 30’ down to an islet in the middle of cold water... Akakathan shrugged off his armor and leapt into the water, changing into his dolphin-like form as he did so, and checked the surrounding caves. Though it was cold, his people were used to the currents of the sea, and he managed to avoid any mishaps initially. Soon he returned to the group, reporting the exit he’d found. The group strung ropes across with Akakathan’s aid, and using the rope they hand-over-handed across, avoiding getting wet. Delilah was delighted- it had been her idea. She attacked the problem the way she attacked all problems: with her razor-sharp intellect.

She was turning that to the question of Dexter.

The group followed a tunnel some hundreds of feet as it went from small to larger and back to small. In some places Vosh was brushing the walls on either side; in others, the group could easily spread out in a skirmish line. Soon it narrowed again, one part of the cave being choked off by rubble; and as they passed it, a huge creature sprang out at them! Strangely insect-like, it had a fat wide body and huge mandibles. And it had two large insectoid eyes- wait! Maybe those were its eyes, instead? Those two red ones... Whoah... And with that, the umber hulk spun Urdor and Akakathan into confusion!

The others sprang to action. Vosh surged forward, striking with his powerful hooves, while Chanti rushed in on the monster’s other side, squinting and trying to avoid its gaze. Delilah cast a spell and a poisonous spider appeared on the creature, biting it and delivering a searing poison.

The monster’s huge claws proceeded to demonstrate that they were not just huge, but in fact were strong and powerful as well. The beast stood toe-to-toe with Vosh and Chanti simultaneously, delivering a powerful gash to the flank of the horse part of Vosh’s body and biting Chanti viciously on the left breast. She growled and stuck her sword deep into its chest in retaliation and Vosh slashed with his scimitar and continued to pummel it with his hooves. Delilah sighed in delight and threw a dagger, but it deflected from the beast’s carapace.

Another series of blows staggered Chanti, but she gritted her teeth and cried, “Bleak favor me!!” A strong, mighty strike hit the umber hulk in the chest again, and this time was enough. The monster collapsed in a spray of brown blood.

After retrieving their confused fellows- who had wandered off- the party searched for treasure and then moved on. Urdor coughed as they passed the corpse and made an obscene gesture.

Next Time: The party meets Arvandor Illspree!


*For those of you that ‘go way back,’ as this was in the days of 2e, think of a ‘dragon’ as a 2e dragon turned up to 11 and a ‘drake’ as a 1e dragon with animal intelligence. There are only a few true dragons in the world at this point in the campaign’s history.

 

[the Jester]

Drow

Evil Party Lineup:
Chanticleer Gilder-Ynarlsland (Villain 5)
Akakathan Dundian (bard 3/priest of the Sea Queen 3)
Delilah (conjurer 2)
Vosh (druid 4)
Urdor Darkwind (cleric of Bleak 1/fighter 1)

2:00 p.m., 8/1/96 O.L.G., in the Underdark under Strogass

“So what are we hoping to find here exactly?” asked Akakathan.

Chanti was only too happy to explain. “We’re looking for an amulet that will help protect us from Dexter’s mind tricks.” The merellin only shrugged; he had never met this Dexter, but clearly he was an enemy of the people that Akakathan had chosen to travel with.

Then again, these same people were starting to make him increasingly nervous. They were showing a ruthless- he’d even say evil- side that he hadn’t expected. Yet if he were to speak out, he feared they would slay him. Maybe not Vosh, but Chanti was ruthless and heedless of danger, and Urdor was a cleric of Bleak.

No choice but to go along for now. But in the future... who could say?

The group moved through the caves and tunnels of the Underdark, not sure exactly where they were going. Chanticleer was certain that Bleak would guide them, however, especially in this realm of darkness where his influence was strongest. Soon the villains encountered a pair of wrinkle-skinned hairless deep gnomes calling themselves svirfneblin. The gnomes, both male, wore stone-studded ring mail and held sturdy-looking picks. They were accompanied by a pet earth elemental, which loomed above even Vosh in size. A parlay ensued, and when Chanticleer asked whether they knew of the amulet the villains were seeking, the gnomes shook their heads.

”But for a fee,” one of them smiled from behind his monocle, “we can take you to someone who probably can help you.”

After some haggling, a reasonable price was agreed upon, and the pair of svirfneblin began guiding the party towards a powerful wild mage that dwelled beneath the surface. “His name is Arvandor Illspree,” the monocled gnome explained. “He may or may not be willing to help you; that part’s up to you. You’ll most likely have to perform a service or pay handsomely for his advice. Whatever you do, don’t offend him- wild mages are known for a mercurial temperament, and he’s very powerful.”

“What race is this Illspree?” asked Delilah.

“He’s a Drow,” answered one of the deep gnomes. He smiled wickedly. “His name means ‘the Birth of Evil in Heaven.’”

Chanti smiled broadly. “Good,” she chortled.

As the group traveled, Chanticleer broke out into song, singing her latest composition, and Akakathan reluctantly sang along.

I was lucky to meet
The great priests of Bleak,
They guided me on my quest...
‘Tis Dexter NAD-ly I seek,
In the name of Bleak,
I’ll lay him to eternal rest...

Nothing will stop us...
We shall succeed!!!
Bleak as your ally is all anyone needs!
The sluts of the light...
Forever they will bleed!
They’ll pay with their lives for their greed!!

Ohhh....
Yes, the great priests of Bleak
Shall dwell in the dark,
With the rest of the world on their knees!
And the bards of the world
Will sing in their tales
While Dexter’s ashes are scattered in the seas!

In the name of Bleak...
Bow down, fools!
Give up your soul and join our cause!
With the God of Despite,
And us, his tools!
Will shred all your foes with your teeth and your claws!

***

6 p.m., 8/5/96 O.L.G.

“Far enough, surfacers,” a voice cried out from the darkness. Its accent was sneering and threatening, yet liltingly soft at the same time, like an elvish accent gone bad.

The two svirfneblin stepped forward. “They come for advice from your master,” one of them called out. “We have guided them this far that they may give him great tribute.”

There was a pause, and then four dark-skinned elves appeared from the shadows, their silver or white hair seeming totally stark against their inky skin. Stranger still, the males wear beards- a novelty that nobody in the group has ever seen on an elf before. One of them sneers and starts speaking in a different tongue, and there are a few moments of conversation before the dark elves gesture for the surface group to follow.

“Good luck,” one of the gnomes calls after them. “Remember what we told you- respect!”

The party reluctantly follows their escort.into the dark.

Next Time: Into the Abyss!

 

[the Jester]

Arvandor Illspree, whose name is Drow for the birth of evil in heaven, reclines on a seat that is almost a throne. It is constructed of black stone, with sharp spires that stab upward behind Illspree’s head. The seat looks cruel; Arvandor Illspree within the seat seems as cruel at least, with his ringed fingers tapering to sharp painted nails and his frosty white beard curling arrogantly below his chin. He wears robes of a dusty dark hue, a jet black cloak behind him. His skin is jet black. He is a Drow.

“You seek me?” he asks idly, speaking in the tongue of surface elves. His face is relaxed, but his eyes are predatory.

“If you are indeed Arvandor Illspree, great and powerful mage, we humbly beg a moment of your most valuable time.” Delilah gives the Drow her best smile and drops to one knee, bowing her head. After an instant’s hesitation, the others follow suit.

Illspree seems somewhat amused, as do his dark elven companions. There are several chuckles. Glancing around, Urdor estimates that the party is outnumbered at least 2:1. And these are Drow, he reminds himself fearfully. Each of them is worth two, or more, if the legends be true. By Bleak, I pray we do not have to face them all!

“We seek knowledge that is hidden from us, and things we cannot find on our own. Only a masterful puissant wizard such as yourself could possible aid us. We seek to overthrow a great servant of the Light, and we are searching for an item to aid us in our struggle.” Delilah looks Arvandor Illspree in the eye. “We believe that, if anyone can help us find what we seek, it is you.”

“And what is it you seek, child?” sneers Illspree.

Delilah bridles at his words, but remains diplomatic. After a bare instant’s pause, she masters her tongue and responds, “We seek an amulet that can shield our minds from Dexter’s psychic powers.”

“Ahhh,” the Drow nods. “I know of what you speak. But why should I help you?”

“Perhaps we can do something for you in return.”

One of the Drow on the side speaks up. ”Zila eclaveveda ti rothip’ek, mel ti Lesaonar.” There are a few quiet chuckles. Illspree smiles.

“Very well,” he intones. “If you can retrieve the staff of Lesaonar for me, I will give you the amulet you seek.” He smiles. “That is, if you are willing?”

“Yes,” Chanticleer says without hesitation. “Who is Lesaonar?”

“He is a drider, but a... special one. You will know him by his tail. Now, prepare yourselves!” Arvandor Illspree rises, his teeth bared in a fierce snarl, and begins casting a spell. But-

He’s not doing it right, Delilah think. It’s too haphazard- he’s outside the forms in many places. He’s playing with dangerous forces... I don’t even know if his spell will work right...

And then she realizes, He’s a wild mage.

Suddenly the air around the party twists, and there’s a ringing sound, and suddenly everything slides away; and then, just like that, the party is picking themselves up off of a blasted landscape of black and grey stones jumbled like volcanic basalts as a group of demons lurches towards them shrieking. The sky is the color of blood, and there is no sun.

“Sweet darkness, he shifted us to the Abyss,” whispers Delilah, stunned.

Next Time: Lookin’ for the staff of Lesaonar on the Abyss!

 

[Knightfall]

Suddenly the air around the party twists, and there’s a ringing sound, and suddenly everything slides away; and then, just like that, the party is picking themselves up off of a blasted landscape of black and grey stones jumbled like volcanic basalts as a group of demons lurches towards them shrieking. The sky is the color of blood, and there is no sun.

“Sweet darkness, he shifted us to the Abyss,” whispers Delilah, stunned.

Heh, couldn't happen to a meaner bunch of villians!

 

[the Jester]

In the Abyss

Time and date unknown, somewhere on the Abyss

The sky screamed red down at the disoriented pirates as the demons shambled towards them.

“Oh crap!” cried Akakathan, pulling free his blade and starting to sing, and then the shambling little horrors were upon the adventurers, tearing with their claws, snapping their gaping, broken mouths. They were pitiful, but dangerous; the souls of the departed chaotic evil people unworthy to be made into something better. Then the demons were upon Vosh, ripping and tearing at him, and one of them clawed at his belly. He shrieked as his entrails dropped out. He had been gutted! Groaning, he swung his scimitar, trying to move back, but his hooves tangled in his intestines, pulling out even more of them!

I will be more than this after I die! Urdor Darkwind vowed defiantly. The dwarf’s axe whipped out and through one of the little demons, killing it, and it dissolved into a cloud of greenish, foul-smelling gas. The stench made Delilah first wrinkle her nose in distaste, then suddenly turn her head and vomit. Clutching at her belly, she sank to her knees, stomach heaving.

Urdor and Akakathan moved together to strike and destroy the next one, drawing back from its vapors before they inhaled too much. The remaining manes hurled themselves at the party, but they could not withstand the pirates’ skill with steel. In a few minutes the battle was done, and the group took a deep breath and looked around.

Vosh was groaning and barely conscious. He stumbled, nearly falling. Quickly, Urdor moved over to him and invoked the glory of Bleak, providing what healing he could. Vosh’s guts were sealed up tight, but his belly still bore a livid wound. “I’ll live,” the centaur gasped.

The ground all about them was rocky and sharp. It was certainly unfriendly, especially for Vosh. In the distance was a large finger of rock thrusting into the sky. As there were no other obvious landmarks, the band set out for it.

Almost immediately they were set on by another group of manes. The battle went very much like the first one. In just a few minutes the last of the demons was dissolving into nauseating green gas.

Continuing to pick their way along the rocky ground, the group passed between a pair of ragged, short hills, and on the far side they found themselves facing the finger of stone. Now that they were closer- within a hundred yards- they could make out a layer of webbing around the base of the finger. Urdor grinned. If a drider is like a spider, this is a clue.

Caught in the web was a disgusting demon that seemed to be a parody of a fly, but enlarged to a gruesome eight and a half feet in length. The gross thing was stained with fecal matter and vomit, and it stank nearly as bad as the clouds that the manes had become upon death. As it saw the approaching adventurers, the demon began to buzz. “Help meeezz,” it croaked.

“Hey, look,” said Akakathan, pointing upwards.

Crawling slowly down the side of the finger of the stone were three huge spiders.

“Looks like you’re dinner, buddy,” the merellin cracked at the demon.

“ZZZhelp me! I will helpzz you azzzz wellzz!”

“We seek Lesaonar,” Delilah said without preamble. “Tell us where to find him and we may free you.”

“He izzz within the stonezzz! Now, quickly- before zzzthe zzspiderszz get me!”

“Thanks,” Delilah said, and the party left him to his plight, allowing the spiders their meal, and moved closer to the finger. They waited until the spiders were fully occupied, then warily sliced their way through the webs to a passage that led within the finger.

They passed into a chamber littered with demonic corpses. Standing over them was a beautiful, fierce-looking woman. They eyed her warily and vice-versa; finally, Vosh said, “Hello... who are you?”

“My name is Clarissa,” she answered. She let her gaze linger at Urdor’s symbol of Bleak.

“What are you doing here, child?” Urdor asked. “Heh heh heh.” He glanced at the amulet around her neck- it bore some sort of phallic symbol.

“I am looking for a way out, unholy father. I am a fallen paladin, and I seek escape from the Abyss.”

“Really,” Vosh said. “Well, we’re on a mission- presumably once we complete it we’ll be brought home magically.”

“I sure hope so,” Akakathan interjected. “But, hold on here- do we trust this woman? No offense, lady,” he added.

“None taken,” the stranger said sweetly.

“Well, she didn’t attack us on sight,” reasoned Delilah.

“Anyway,” Vosh argued, “we’re going to have to battle some demonic force in here, and we could probably use her help.”

Akakathan shook his head. “It’s against my better judgment, but all right.”

Clarissa nodded. “Thank you. You are most kind. Perhaps I could offer you a kiss?”

“No, thanks,” Akakathan answered nervously.

The group moved deeper into the finger of stone. Soon they happened into a huge hollow chamber, and awaiting them was Lesaonar- with a drow upper body, the thorax and abdomen and legs of a spider, and a hideous scorpion tail fairly dripping venom. “So!” he boomed. “Why do you come to Lesaonar?”

“We come seeking knowledge!” Delilah tried, and the drider-demon laughed.

“Liar! You come seeking my staff! Lesaonar is no fool! Who sent you? Tell me- and I will make your deaths quick and easy.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound like a very good deal,” grated Urdor, and as he sprang forward with his axe firmly in hand he heard Delilah the Damned casting a spell from behind him. The irony made him smile as a spider the size of a child’s hand appeared, biting at Lesaonar viciously. Their newfound friend Clarissa swung and struck with a flaming sword, inflicting terrific damage on the drider-demon. The battle raged as the demon jabbed at the pirates with its tail and slashed viciously with a battle axe, which tore through armor with disturbing ease, leaving it rent and useless. Urdor’s axe tasted demon blood, as did Akakathan’s rapier.

Then it was done. With a last despairing howl, Lesaonar fell beneath the onslaught.

The group quickly stripped him, finding a staff, a ring and his axe. They began to glow. “This is it!” cried Akakathan. “Clarissa, grab on!” He extended his hand, still not trusting her, but admitting to himself that she had kept up her end of the deal (not that that had helped the fly-demon in the web).

She grasped it just as the Abyss faded from around them.

Next Time: Treachery at the hands of Arvandor Illspree!

 

[Technik4]

Wow, glad to see you've been keeping up Jester. I've been away from the scene for almost a year but I should have the internet again in a few weeks - I'm catching up on all your story hours. Thanks again for sharing your tales.

Technik

 

[the Jester]

Wow, glad to see you've been keeping up Jester. I've been away from the scene for almost a year but I should have the internet again in a few weeks - I'm catching up on all your story hours. Thanks again for sharing your tales.

Technik

Hey, dude, I know I already said this in two other threads, but welcome back! It's good to see you again!

And thanks for the feedback...!

 

[the Jester]

Betrayed!

“Well, well,” Arvandor Illspree said, steepling his fingers as he regarded the triumphant group of adventurers.

“We found your staff.” Chanticleer smiled a deadly smile as she waved it in the Drow wild mage’s direction. “I hope it’s as useful to you as that amulet will be to us.”

This, then, would be the moment Chanti had been waiting for: the moment when the group finally acquired a weapon to shield them against Dexter’s deadly psionic powers. The same powers that drove Galliger to his death.

I’ll kill him, Chanti thought again, as she had thought every day for months. I’ll rip his heart out and cast it on an altar shaped like the Black Sun, and then I’ll hurl his body into Bleak’s Maw. Dexter is a dead man.

The Drow wizard made a negligent gesture from his high-backed seat. Another of the ebony-skinned elves glided across the cavern floor to the group of villainous surface adventurers. She extended a velvet-gloved hand, her pale eyes boring into Chanti. With a chuckle, the surfacer gave the staff over, and the black-cloaked woman returned to Arvandor Illspree’s side. She slid the staff upwards to him, her eyes never leaving the band of pirates.

“So, about that amulet,” Akakathan said nervously.

Arvandor Illspree, whose name meant ‘the Birth of Evil in Heaven,’ smiled wickedly. “Oh, the amulet? I had nearly forgotten.” He turned and barked at several servants in the strange tongue of his people. A few laughed. The crowd stirred as a cloaked figure began moving forward, a lock of white hair spilling out of the concealing darkness of the hood.

“I hope you are not going to renege on our deal,” Chanti growled.

“Renege? Never!” Arvandor Illspree seemed mildly put off. “Why, I am insulted at the very thought.” He showed his teeth again. “But I must confess... I am changing our arrangement somewhat.”

Chanti’s hand strayed to the hilt of her sword. Her eyes darted around. There were dozens of Drow. There’s no way we can take them all, she realized grimly, even as Delilah brushed her arm with a hand, murmuring, “Carefully, Captain.”

“We had a bargain!” Vosh protested.

“You will still receive your precious amulet,” Illspree said disdainfully, “but first you must pass another test to prove your worth. After all, if you’re to fight this... ‘Dexter’ with it, you must be able to survive to reach him, must you not?” He smiled a deadly smile. “If you can survive Thalanaz, I will give you the amulet.”

The hooded figure cast back the hood, revealing a female Drow of particularly arrogant bearing. With a flourish she drew her shortsword.

And with a wild cry she attacked.



Next Time: Oh dear! Can our low-level villains deal with a tenth-level Drow fighter with an AC -6???

 

[the Jester]

Bad Guy Party Lineup:

Akakathan the Doomed (that's how he signed in that game- he was already starting to think that he was in a situation he wasn't gonna be able to extricate himself from), merellin priest/bard 4/4; NG
Urdor Darkwind, dwarf fighter/cleric 1/1; NE
Delilah the Dead, human conjurer 2; LN
Vosh, centaur druid 5; N
Chanticleer Gilder-Ynarlsland, elf villain 5; CE

Interestingly, only two of them are evil.