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The VOIDRUNNER'S CODEX is LIVE! Explore new worlds, fight oppressive empires, fend off fearsome aliens, and wield deadly psionics with this comprehensive boxed set expansion for 5E and A5E!
Piratecat's up-to-date story hour (updated on 8/10, come game with PCat at GenCon!)
- Thread starter Piratecat
- Start date
Piratecat
Sesquipedalian
The raucous laughter from the wrestling giants drowned out any noise that the tiny humans might have made as they hid in the shadows of an alcove. More than a hundred feet away down the great hall, Chief Nosnra of the hill giants drunkenly demonstrated how he preferred to kill humans, smacking one meaty fist down into the trestle table before him. Cave bears snarled as they lunged for the scraps knocked off the table by the force of the blow, and more than twenty swaying giants roared their approval at their chief’s technique.
The reek was incredible. Filthy wood creaked, huge flagons of ale spilled, scraps of roast ox dangled from gluttonous mouths. Fire leaped, voices bellowed. The dripping remains of human captives swayed as they dangled from the ceiling.
Velendo looked at his friends. Nolin the bard and Claris, pilgrim of the God of Vengeance, stood next to him. Tao the ranger, Arcade the wizard, and the young thief Dylrath Birdhouse waited nearby, and a dangerously bored Alix Loial stood just to the side. His weapon was still wet with the blood of slain hill giants.
Velendo’s eyes were hard as he surveyed the chaos in the Great Hall. “Now,” he suggested, and the team moved forwards.
-- o --
The first time Velendo had seen this room, it had looked very different than it did now. The massive bonfire pit had been replaced with a holy altar to Calphas the Wallbuilder. Wooden walls were reinforced and buttressed with stone, dangling bodies swapped for colorful banners, stuffed trophy heads replaced with religious tapestries. The faithful of Calphas had made this place a temple, and as a temple it was as close to impregnable as they could get; even Cruciel, the angel of the arch, had added her own touches. The place wasn’t perfect, but it was reassuringly secure.
So why was Agar so afraid that the sky was falling?
Nestled high above a narrow pass in the Grayflame mountains between the “backwater” countries of Irojis and Gaunt, the Temple of Ascension wasn’t exactly anyone’s definition of convenient to get to. Nevertheless, more and more pilgrims were arriving every year. They limped up the steep mountainside by the dozens, lame and ill and infectious, and each found sanctuary in the huge temple at journey’s end. This was the first temple actually founded by Velendo, and it was here that an archangel of Calphas first appeared and announced to the world that Velendo would be a proxy for the God himself. Lord, that had been a long time ago, back when he had been somewhat spryer and a lot more naive. He’d been drunk a lot more often then as well, if he recalled correctly; trying to shirk responsibility tended to do that.
Times had changed. Velendo had grown up in the tiny seaside town of Hunnerstide, far away from anything that didn’t smell like fish. It was a running joke that only nine gold pieces existed in the village, and everyone just traded them around when they got tired of bartering. Now Velendo was wearing gilded robes and playing host to an emperor and archmage.
Not just an archmage, either; Agar was one of those. This was THE archmage. The sole surviving wizard from the time of the great Mage Kings, back when they were referred to as magic-users, back before their battles supposedly spanned continents and ruined half the world. An artificer who could flatten cities with his spells, and still have enough left over to make a few dozen Ioun stones. An emperor who was rumored to have killed every orc on the continent off in a fit of pique. And he was coming here just after lunch.
Well, thought Velendo as he tried to cheer himself up. He still puts on his pants the same way I do, right? Right. He frowned. Only he wears magical robes, and probably has invisible jewel-encrusted servants to dress him. Damn.
In theory, Ioun was coming here so that Velendo could convince him to help fight Elder. He had another agenda, though; his secretary Annel had made it clear that Ioun’s assistance was predicated on an alliance with the city of Corsai. Mara was negotiating for the church of Aeos in the matter. A lot was at stake; if Corsai didn't join the empire, Ioun might decide to annex it by force. Now Velendo strode tiredly from room to room -- this place was big! -- looking for any sign of disarray. The temple wasn’t perfect, but it had been cleaned up enough to look presentable. It would do.
By the time he returned for lunch in his private dining room, many of the other Defenders were gathered. Stone Bear was out in the desert somewhere, and Galthia was still in the outer planes, but the others had arrived.
“Fur sheets!” Eve was saying with disgust. “This time he sent me a load of fur sheets made out of wormine, or vermin, or something. . .”
“Probably ermine,” said Mara helpfully.
“And they fit my bed! How did he know what size they should be? And I’ve gotten exotic food like celestial songfish, braised loin of wyvern, and Elysium chocolates.” She looked abashed. “I ate the chocolates. I’m only human. But I sent all the rest back! And the beautiful gowns, and the elven hairdressers. And we won’t even talk about that darn pleasure slave.” Eve looked angry. “I won’t accept anything from him.”
Malachite looked thoughtful. “Do you know it’s Soder sending you these things?”
“No. They all come from ‘A. Nonny’, and it’s always someone hired by someone else who maybe was dominated or charmed but who no longer is. It’s very frustrating. When the merchants refuse to take things back, I’ve had to sell them myself.” Eve brightened. “I’m pretty sure that I can use a mental power to find out Soder’s mental signature, his true name! May I do that? Please? Then we can kill him and make this stop.”
Velendo sat down, and a plate of food was placed in front of him as a servant poured water into his glass. He exchanged a glance with Malachite. “What’s the down side?” asked the elderly priest cautiously.
“Well, if he resists it he’ll know I tried to pry. That’s it. And he might be a little annoyed, but that will bring him out of hiding.”
“Eve. . .” Velendo shared another look with Malachite. “Soder is now the right hand man of Teliez, the Dark Hunger, the God of Undead. I’m pretty sure that makes him an archangel.” Eve looked frustrated, and Velendo continued. “He’s a lot more powerful than he used to be. That means that trying to find out his true name will be akin to calling him out.”
“That’s what I want.” The girl bristled with hate.
“That’s what we all want, so long as we do it on our terms. If we make a move against Soder right now, The Dark Hunger himself is going to have to get involved. He won’t stop until we’re completely and utterly crushed. I’m afraid it’s just a bad idea.”
“Well,” said Eve as she dug into her meal, “that’s why I asked instead of just doing it.”
“Thank you, Eve,” said Malachite.
She flashed him a smile and returned to her food. “Promise me that when we have time, we’ll track him down and destroy him?”
Malachite nodded in approval. “I’d like little more.”
“How were your travels, Agar?” asked Mara, changing the subject.
“Pretty good, thanks! I went all kinds of fun places, mostly on the upper planes, and spent two months in the Citadel of Kodali’s Retreat. I needed the time to make objects,” he flipped several fine leather cords to Mara, whose face erupted in a huge grin, “and scribe spells. I took a few promising halfling wizards from River’s Reach with me, too. They provided the materials, and I gave them free training and access to my spellbooks for copying spells.”
“Good idea,” said Malachite. “You can trust them?”
“Absolutely. Proty and I were very careful about that.” He stroked his tentacled familiar, who keened in delight. “They’re talking about starting their own adventuring group, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to help them along. I also made a prototype belt from Agar’s Insect Bane that Shara and I are going to sell in Eversink. That should bring in a little extra pin money.” Suddenly Agar reeled backwards and clutched his head. He rolled off the bench and hid under the table.
“What is it?” Everyone else was on their feet, chairs toppling.
“The clouds aren’t air, they’re stone!” Agar whimpered in an odd voice from under the table. “They rumble from the earthquake. I can feel them dangling above us, supported by only the slimmest pillar. They’re going to fall!” He rolled into a ball, shaking, then the vision passed and he slowly relaxed.
“Great,” said Eve. “He’s given up fear of bugs for agoraphobia.”
“I don’t think so,” said Velendo. “This may be more specific. Agar, can you tell?”
“No.” The halfling sounded miserable, his voice shaky as he got to his feet. “All I know is that for the last two weeks, I’ve felt more and more like the sky was going to fall in on my head. I keep looking up. I can’t trust the clouds. This stinks. I feel like Priggle, only it’s the vault of the heavens that is out to get me.”
“We should be careful,” said Velendo as he righted his chair and sat back down. “I’ve gotten reports of unexpected giant raids hundreds of miles to the north. They could be related.”
“I hope they aren’t related while Ioun is here,” said Mara as she finished her soup. “That would be awkward. I still don’t know how I’m going to handle this.”
“Well,” said Malachite, “Ioun wants Corsai as part of his empire. I’m still not sure exactly what that means, but we’ll figure that out. We want. . need?” He looks at Velendo.
“Probably need,” agreed Velendo. “But not certainly.”
“Need his help in combating Elder,” finished Malachite. “We’ll work out how those two goals combine.”
An acolyte harrumphed quietly by the door, and Velendo jumped to his feet. “Speaking of which, Ioun and his entourage should be here in five minutes. Everyone ready?” He eyed Eve’s worn and mis-sized chain mail, but said nothing.
“Ready,” said Mara with assurance. Agar gave a nervous glance up at the ceiling, but nodded nevertheless. The others did as well.
“Then let’s go meet Congenio Ioun,” said Velendo, and they left the room.
The reek was incredible. Filthy wood creaked, huge flagons of ale spilled, scraps of roast ox dangled from gluttonous mouths. Fire leaped, voices bellowed. The dripping remains of human captives swayed as they dangled from the ceiling.
Velendo looked at his friends. Nolin the bard and Claris, pilgrim of the God of Vengeance, stood next to him. Tao the ranger, Arcade the wizard, and the young thief Dylrath Birdhouse waited nearby, and a dangerously bored Alix Loial stood just to the side. His weapon was still wet with the blood of slain hill giants.
Velendo’s eyes were hard as he surveyed the chaos in the Great Hall. “Now,” he suggested, and the team moved forwards.
-- o --
The first time Velendo had seen this room, it had looked very different than it did now. The massive bonfire pit had been replaced with a holy altar to Calphas the Wallbuilder. Wooden walls were reinforced and buttressed with stone, dangling bodies swapped for colorful banners, stuffed trophy heads replaced with religious tapestries. The faithful of Calphas had made this place a temple, and as a temple it was as close to impregnable as they could get; even Cruciel, the angel of the arch, had added her own touches. The place wasn’t perfect, but it was reassuringly secure.
So why was Agar so afraid that the sky was falling?
Nestled high above a narrow pass in the Grayflame mountains between the “backwater” countries of Irojis and Gaunt, the Temple of Ascension wasn’t exactly anyone’s definition of convenient to get to. Nevertheless, more and more pilgrims were arriving every year. They limped up the steep mountainside by the dozens, lame and ill and infectious, and each found sanctuary in the huge temple at journey’s end. This was the first temple actually founded by Velendo, and it was here that an archangel of Calphas first appeared and announced to the world that Velendo would be a proxy for the God himself. Lord, that had been a long time ago, back when he had been somewhat spryer and a lot more naive. He’d been drunk a lot more often then as well, if he recalled correctly; trying to shirk responsibility tended to do that.
Times had changed. Velendo had grown up in the tiny seaside town of Hunnerstide, far away from anything that didn’t smell like fish. It was a running joke that only nine gold pieces existed in the village, and everyone just traded them around when they got tired of bartering. Now Velendo was wearing gilded robes and playing host to an emperor and archmage.
Not just an archmage, either; Agar was one of those. This was THE archmage. The sole surviving wizard from the time of the great Mage Kings, back when they were referred to as magic-users, back before their battles supposedly spanned continents and ruined half the world. An artificer who could flatten cities with his spells, and still have enough left over to make a few dozen Ioun stones. An emperor who was rumored to have killed every orc on the continent off in a fit of pique. And he was coming here just after lunch.
Well, thought Velendo as he tried to cheer himself up. He still puts on his pants the same way I do, right? Right. He frowned. Only he wears magical robes, and probably has invisible jewel-encrusted servants to dress him. Damn.
In theory, Ioun was coming here so that Velendo could convince him to help fight Elder. He had another agenda, though; his secretary Annel had made it clear that Ioun’s assistance was predicated on an alliance with the city of Corsai. Mara was negotiating for the church of Aeos in the matter. A lot was at stake; if Corsai didn't join the empire, Ioun might decide to annex it by force. Now Velendo strode tiredly from room to room -- this place was big! -- looking for any sign of disarray. The temple wasn’t perfect, but it had been cleaned up enough to look presentable. It would do.
By the time he returned for lunch in his private dining room, many of the other Defenders were gathered. Stone Bear was out in the desert somewhere, and Galthia was still in the outer planes, but the others had arrived.
“Fur sheets!” Eve was saying with disgust. “This time he sent me a load of fur sheets made out of wormine, or vermin, or something. . .”
“Probably ermine,” said Mara helpfully.
“And they fit my bed! How did he know what size they should be? And I’ve gotten exotic food like celestial songfish, braised loin of wyvern, and Elysium chocolates.” She looked abashed. “I ate the chocolates. I’m only human. But I sent all the rest back! And the beautiful gowns, and the elven hairdressers. And we won’t even talk about that darn pleasure slave.” Eve looked angry. “I won’t accept anything from him.”
Malachite looked thoughtful. “Do you know it’s Soder sending you these things?”
“No. They all come from ‘A. Nonny’, and it’s always someone hired by someone else who maybe was dominated or charmed but who no longer is. It’s very frustrating. When the merchants refuse to take things back, I’ve had to sell them myself.” Eve brightened. “I’m pretty sure that I can use a mental power to find out Soder’s mental signature, his true name! May I do that? Please? Then we can kill him and make this stop.”
Velendo sat down, and a plate of food was placed in front of him as a servant poured water into his glass. He exchanged a glance with Malachite. “What’s the down side?” asked the elderly priest cautiously.
“Well, if he resists it he’ll know I tried to pry. That’s it. And he might be a little annoyed, but that will bring him out of hiding.”
“Eve. . .” Velendo shared another look with Malachite. “Soder is now the right hand man of Teliez, the Dark Hunger, the God of Undead. I’m pretty sure that makes him an archangel.” Eve looked frustrated, and Velendo continued. “He’s a lot more powerful than he used to be. That means that trying to find out his true name will be akin to calling him out.”
“That’s what I want.” The girl bristled with hate.
“That’s what we all want, so long as we do it on our terms. If we make a move against Soder right now, The Dark Hunger himself is going to have to get involved. He won’t stop until we’re completely and utterly crushed. I’m afraid it’s just a bad idea.”
“Well,” said Eve as she dug into her meal, “that’s why I asked instead of just doing it.”
“Thank you, Eve,” said Malachite.
She flashed him a smile and returned to her food. “Promise me that when we have time, we’ll track him down and destroy him?”
Malachite nodded in approval. “I’d like little more.”
“How were your travels, Agar?” asked Mara, changing the subject.
“Pretty good, thanks! I went all kinds of fun places, mostly on the upper planes, and spent two months in the Citadel of Kodali’s Retreat. I needed the time to make objects,” he flipped several fine leather cords to Mara, whose face erupted in a huge grin, “and scribe spells. I took a few promising halfling wizards from River’s Reach with me, too. They provided the materials, and I gave them free training and access to my spellbooks for copying spells.”
“Good idea,” said Malachite. “You can trust them?”
“Absolutely. Proty and I were very careful about that.” He stroked his tentacled familiar, who keened in delight. “They’re talking about starting their own adventuring group, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to help them along. I also made a prototype belt from Agar’s Insect Bane that Shara and I are going to sell in Eversink. That should bring in a little extra pin money.” Suddenly Agar reeled backwards and clutched his head. He rolled off the bench and hid under the table.
“What is it?” Everyone else was on their feet, chairs toppling.
“The clouds aren’t air, they’re stone!” Agar whimpered in an odd voice from under the table. “They rumble from the earthquake. I can feel them dangling above us, supported by only the slimmest pillar. They’re going to fall!” He rolled into a ball, shaking, then the vision passed and he slowly relaxed.
“Great,” said Eve. “He’s given up fear of bugs for agoraphobia.”
“I don’t think so,” said Velendo. “This may be more specific. Agar, can you tell?”
“No.” The halfling sounded miserable, his voice shaky as he got to his feet. “All I know is that for the last two weeks, I’ve felt more and more like the sky was going to fall in on my head. I keep looking up. I can’t trust the clouds. This stinks. I feel like Priggle, only it’s the vault of the heavens that is out to get me.”
“We should be careful,” said Velendo as he righted his chair and sat back down. “I’ve gotten reports of unexpected giant raids hundreds of miles to the north. They could be related.”
“I hope they aren’t related while Ioun is here,” said Mara as she finished her soup. “That would be awkward. I still don’t know how I’m going to handle this.”
“Well,” said Malachite, “Ioun wants Corsai as part of his empire. I’m still not sure exactly what that means, but we’ll figure that out. We want. . need?” He looks at Velendo.
“Probably need,” agreed Velendo. “But not certainly.”
“Need his help in combating Elder,” finished Malachite. “We’ll work out how those two goals combine.”
An acolyte harrumphed quietly by the door, and Velendo jumped to his feet. “Speaking of which, Ioun and his entourage should be here in five minutes. Everyone ready?” He eyed Eve’s worn and mis-sized chain mail, but said nothing.
“Ready,” said Mara with assurance. Agar gave a nervous glance up at the ceiling, but nodded nevertheless. The others did as well.
“Then let’s go meet Congenio Ioun,” said Velendo, and they left the room.
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Piratecat
Sesquipedalian
INTERLUDE
Imperator Caustas, Cloudhammer of the Northern Sky, strolled deliberately around the courtyard of the Inner Keep. He fumed with an anger forged from self-righteous embarrassment, and sympathetic electricity danced across his gray skin in company with his shame.
They dared! These sniveling humans dared to take a keep that his people had constructed for the tiny hill giants, to cleanse it and turn it into some sort of profane holy place to an untrue godling. They dared to injure the little cloud giant tax collector he had sent six months ago, to dominate him and send him back to the Imperator with false words in his mouth and the whimper of a beaten cur. They dared to contact the Imperator with some sort of communication spell, threatening - threatening! him and his people if they chose to justifiably take back what was rightly theirs.
Oh, this vengeance was going to be sweet.
The Imperator surveyed the war griffons and the ice roc. He inspected the weakling cloud giant servants, the handpicked Imperial Guard, his toadying priest Olaf the Lame, and the indomitable Storm-Chosen. He examined the three chunks of mountaintops that had been severed and hauled onto the cloud island itself. Within an hour, those huge hills of stone would be dropped from a mile in height, directly onto the top of the keep that these humans now valued so highly. Let's see them dominate that, the Imperator thought, and smiled with bared teeth.
"Prepare yourselves!" he roared, lightning flashing along his skin. Troops moved into position, slowly readying the first boulder for launch out of the ring of lightning and down onto the humans' unsuspecting heads. "we will take them unawares, and tonight we will feast on human flesh." His minions screamed their approval.
Oh yes. No one crossed Imperator Caustus and lived. This would be a cleansing that the humans would remember for a very, very long time.
Imperator Caustas, Cloudhammer of the Northern Sky, strolled deliberately around the courtyard of the Inner Keep. He fumed with an anger forged from self-righteous embarrassment, and sympathetic electricity danced across his gray skin in company with his shame.
They dared! These sniveling humans dared to take a keep that his people had constructed for the tiny hill giants, to cleanse it and turn it into some sort of profane holy place to an untrue godling. They dared to injure the little cloud giant tax collector he had sent six months ago, to dominate him and send him back to the Imperator with false words in his mouth and the whimper of a beaten cur. They dared to contact the Imperator with some sort of communication spell, threatening - threatening! him and his people if they chose to justifiably take back what was rightly theirs.
Oh, this vengeance was going to be sweet.
The Imperator surveyed the war griffons and the ice roc. He inspected the weakling cloud giant servants, the handpicked Imperial Guard, his toadying priest Olaf the Lame, and the indomitable Storm-Chosen. He examined the three chunks of mountaintops that had been severed and hauled onto the cloud island itself. Within an hour, those huge hills of stone would be dropped from a mile in height, directly onto the top of the keep that these humans now valued so highly. Let's see them dominate that, the Imperator thought, and smiled with bared teeth.
"Prepare yourselves!" he roared, lightning flashing along his skin. Troops moved into position, slowly readying the first boulder for launch out of the ring of lightning and down onto the humans' unsuspecting heads. "we will take them unawares, and tonight we will feast on human flesh." His minions screamed their approval.
Oh yes. No one crossed Imperator Caustus and lived. This would be a cleansing that the humans would remember for a very, very long time.
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Bryon_Soulweaver
First Post
And what level are they now?
Piratecat
Sesquipedalian
WizarDru said:
The Defenders took on G1: Steading of the Hill Giant Chief roughly back in 1994 or 95. They were around 6th-8th level at the time, except for Dylrath, who was less. It was shortly before Sito (Claris's player) moved to Seattle, so he might be better able to pin-point the date.
Mind you, they were 2e giants, but it was still a really fun adventure. Good tactics definitely turned the tide.
I think they now range between 21st level (Velendo) and 19th level (Eve). Velendo has an epic level ability that you'll see mentioned, and the members of the group are all pretty much at the top of their individual heaps. *sniff* My poor, poor bad guys.
