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Shilsen's Eberron SH (Finished - The Last Word : 9/20/15)
- Thread starter Rackhir
- Start date
carborundum
Adventurer
LOL! Genius!
And they're going to do WHAT???
And they're going to do WHAT???
shilsen
Adventurer
LOL! Genius!
And they're going to do WHAT???
This is why I love this bunch. They're just as insane as the aberrations!
* * * * *
“What … exactly are you planning?” asks Jaela, looking both curious and concerned.
“If we could drop a large enough piece of Thronehold into the bay,” Nameless rasps, fingers moving over the map to illustrate his point, “It would create a significant wave. If we both strengthen and channel it via the spells that we,” he glances at Luna and Korm, “Especially you, have at our command, we can ensure that it strikes here,” he indicates the land off the eastern side of Flamekeep, “With sufficient force to flood the area.”
“And here,” Cedric joins in, leaning forward to indicate the large bridge which links Flamekeep to this area, “Is the bridge that the aberrations will aim to cross to reach the city. And our defensive forces, especially with your aid, could hold them here,” he adds, indicating an area of battlements extending around the bridge and the Orien rail station near it. He grimaces. “For a time.”
“I like it!” Gareth says. “It’s a strong defensive position, which we can channel the enemy into. But we’re badly outnumbered, right?” At Cedric’s nod, he turns to the other Angels. “Can you time it well enough that the wave will hit them at the right time?”
Nameless shrugs. “We cannot be completely precise, of course, but we should be able to time it to within a few minutes. Considering the size of the aberration army, they will be a large and slow enough target. And once we hit them…”
“Then it’s time for the real fun to occur,” chuckles Korm grimly. He turns to look at Luna, expecting a similarly bloodthirsty attitude, only to be met by an unusually worried expression.
“That’s all well and good,” grumbles the Gatekeeper, “But what about the damn snake? I already told you about what it can do. I don’t think a flood’s going to stop it.”
“True. That is one reason I wished to use a wave primarily created by natural forces, so it would be unaffected by its null-magic field.” Nameless frowns thoughtfully. “But we shall also have to see what more we can learn of it in the interim.”
“I told you the bloody thing’s immune to divinations,” growls Luna, jerking a thumb at Jaela. “She already tried.”
“I see,” Nameless replies placidly, before smiling thinly. “But I might have a few options that others don’t have.”
Six, listening silently thus far, then turns to Cedric and Jaela. “What do you think? Is this plan a possibility? And do we have time to gather any other allies?”
Jaela hesitates, clearly still somewhat perplexed by the idiosyncratic nature of the Angels’ scheme, but Cedric replies. “It’s insane! Which is why it’s the only thing I’ve heard this far that has a chance of working. As for allies, we could use everyone that we can get, but the rest of Khorvaire is a little too busy with their own problems to care about Flamekeep.”
“We shall have to try to remedy that,” Six replies. “But we need to move fast.”
“Yes,” says Cedric. “Now, I have a couple of suggestions to add. For example, what my cavalry and I will be doing, both before and after the wave hits. See, here…”
* * *
After a fair amount of discussion, the gathering breaks up to do different things. Cedric heads back to his cavalry contingent, to continue harassing the aberration army. Essirise and Karaglen, partly to aid Cedric’s efforts and in part to gain more information about the enemy forces, leave with him as well. Trillia, at Nameless’ suggestion, teleports back to Sharn to await the Angels’ return to the city.
Once the others have gone, Jaela proceeds to cast a commune. Though she cannot gain information about Mual-Tar itself, there are other issues about which the Angels seek information. One by one, the Keeper of the Flame asks the questions which the spell allows and pronounces the answer aloud, so that the Angels can suggest new questions:
Q: Do the recently revived soul bound have special properties?
A: Probably
Q: Will Korm, Gareth, Six and Nameless be immune from the magic canceling effect of Mual-Tar?
A: No
Q: Does Cyäegha have information about the Chaos Serpent?
A: Likely
Q: Would Cyäegha share information about the Chaos Serpent?
A: Unknown
Q: Can Cyäegha tell us how to kill the Chaos Serpent?
A: It cannot be slain, only banished
Q: Will it be able to come back in fifty years if banished?
A: Depends on the method used
Q: Do the Guardian Angels themselves possess the power to banish it?
A: Not without aid
Q: Do we need the aid of the dragons?
A: That would be one option
Q: Do we need the aid of the Gatekeepers?
A: No
Q: Do we need the aid of the hags?
A: No
Q: Do we need the aid of the Silver Flame?
A: That would be one option
Q: Would casting banishment on those whose souls are bound to the snake affect it?
A: No
Q: Will enough physical damage banish it?
A: Yes
Q: Is the most dangerous entity in the army besides the snake a mind-flayer?
A: Yes
Q: Is that mind flayer an arcane caster?
A: Yes
Q: Is that mind flayer a more powerful caster than Nameless?
A: No
Q: Is the mind flayer generally found more than 500 ft from the snake?
A: Usually
Q: Does the mind flayer have a distinctive indication of which one it is?
A: Yes
Jaela’s gaze refocuses on those around her as the spell ends, and a look of surprise crosses her face, followed by a more somber expression. Gravely, she say, “The Silver Flame just spoke to me even though I completed the spell, which it rarely does. It blessed me and said that it is not certain about the future. But … these are likely my … last days as the Keeper.”
There is an awkward silence for a few moments, until Gareth says, “I hope that is not the case, Keeper. I swear that I – we – shall do the utmost to ensure that is not the case.” Jaela bows her head in appreciation as the other Angels also murmur their agreement, but her expression does not become any the more cheerful.
“Thank you for the information you gained for us, Jaela,” Nameless says. “Now I shall contact Cyäegha. Its knowledge is endless and if anything knows useful information about the worm, it does.”
A short while later, Nameless completes his spell, transporting his consciousness into Xoriat. Bolstered by a miracle from Jaela, he almost instantly makes contact with Cyäegha. As during his more recent uses of the spell, he finds himself seemingly present in the very cavern that is occupied by the All-Seeing Eye. Cyäegha instantly notes his presence and makes mental contact, causing Nameless the beginnings of a headache but also allowing him to ask his questions of it.
Nameless begins with the query, “What is the best way to harm the worm?” The response is instant. “Incredibly powerful weapons made of what you call byeshk.”*
He then asks, “Is there some way to negate the effect of the magic-affecting aura?” The response this time has a tinge of what the alienist considers as akin to humor for the Great Old One – “Be far away.”
Nameless’ next question is “Once we have banished the worm, how do we prevent it from returning for the maximum period?” Cyäegha responds, “Use powerful binding energy, preferably what you call divine.” Then, with a surge of amusement, it adds, “And block off Xoriat.”
The alienist then asks, though fairly certain what the answer is, “What does the snake want with Flamekeep?” The answer confirms his supposition. “Your little Flame.”
Attempting to learn more specifics, Nameless then queries, “Why does the snake want the Silver Flame?” The response this time is heavily tinged with disdain. “The souls that make up the Flame have bound many things from what, for you, is time immemorial. Mual-Tar seeks to unbind the seals that bind the daelkyr and tie itself to your world forever.”
The next question is “What are the effects of our connection to the snake?” This time, there is actually a pause, followed by a swift increase in the pounding in his head, and Nameless gets the definite impression that Cyäegha just studied him intently. “Not that much right now, but it will increase with time. As its power increases, so will yours.” Another pause. “Probably increase. You,” and there is again a sense of amusement, “Are unusual. Tasty.”
Switching to a different subject, Nameless asks, “How can we best use the powers of the Mournland to seal off Xoriat?” The reply this time has a touch of impatience. “The souls that linger there must be passed through a powerfully charged enough receptacle linked to the seals.”
Realizing that he might be overstaying his welcome, the alienist quickly shifts to the next issue. “What is the best way to persuade the dragons to help us seal off Xoriat?” The response is heavily impatient, almost snappish in its mental tone. “I do not know what little lizards think. Make Xoriat attack their land.”
Before Nameless can think of another question, the link is instantly severed, and he finds himself back in Jaela’s sanctum, now with a thoroughly pounding head.
The alienist quickly explains what he asked and the answers he obtained. After he explains, Six says, “That helps somewhat, but some of it’s as cryptic as usual. What do we do next?”
“We have a number of things to do,” Nameless replies. “Go to Sharn and get supplies and some allies. I’d also like to go to Droaam and talk to the hags about aid. If nothing else, it’s the best source for byeshk in Khorvaire. We need to visit Thronehold soon too and…”
“…tell them we need to borrow some of the place?” chuckles Korm.
“Precisely,” says the alienist, not cracking a smile.
“I would actually like to go to Stormhome,” says Six.
“Huh?” Gareth looks at him curiously. “Why?”
“Because the description of the army and the snake makes me think we need air support. I’d like to talk to House Lyrandar about getting some airships.”
“Oooh!” Luna claps in excitement. “Airships! I wanna go too!
Korm chuckles, rolling his eyes, and says, “Why am I not surprised? Anyway, you’re going to need Nameless, Luna or me to get you there, Six, so you might as well take her.”
The warforged turns his expressionless metal face to Luna and says, “All right, but you cannot flame strike anyone who disagrees with you. Or doesn’t give us a fleet of airships instantly.”
Luna pouts, but nods simultaneously. “Sure. Whatever.”
Six turns and says, addressing nobody specific, his tones even less inflected than usual, “My sense of confidence is renewed.”
As Korm dissolves into helpless laughter, Gareth says, “I guess the rest of us are going to Sharn and Droaam?”
Nameless says, “I suggest we split up too. I recommend that Korm and you go to Droaam, while I go to Sharn.”
“You sure?” Gareth queries, frowning slightly, “I’d like to meet Lalia. Maybe Korm can handle Droaam on his own and I can come to Sharn with you?”
“We need someone diplomatic going to Droaam. Korm isn’t much good at that, just like Luna, which is why Six and she will go together.” Ignoring the Gatekeeper’s indignant complaint at the comment, Nameless continues, “And Sora Katra seems … fond of you. Splitting up will be most efficient. We can do personal visits later.”
“Easy for you,” Gareth grumbles, “Since you have no personal visits to make! But – fine, we’ll do what you say.” The paladin then turns to Jaela and asks, “Keeper, if I may request more of your aid before we leave, could I obtain a scroll or two of sending? I need to contact my family. And,” he adds, looking momentarily concerned, “Lalia.” I wonder what she’s going to say!
“And the hags,” Nameless adds. “I suggest you avoid arriving without warning. Remember the last – and only – time we did that?”
“I can cast the spells for you,” says Jaela. “I have been keeping a number of them prepared so I can communicate regularly with Cedric. I can do so right now.”
At Gareth’s request, Jaela first contacts his mother, delivering a message saying, “This is Gareth. I have returned. Am in Flamekeep. Is everything fine with you? Am busy with the war but shall see you when possible.”
The reply, as relayed by Jaela, is, “We thought you were dead! Grandmother and I both safe. Still in Karrlakton. Come when you can, but take care of yourself. Flame protect you!”
“That is very reassuring,” says Gareth, before turning to Nameless. “Do you think we will be able to visit Karrnath before the battle?”
“I doubt it,” the alienist rasps, adding dispassionately, “But if we win, hopefully we should have more time.” Though I doubt that too.
Gareth nods, though not looking particularly pleased, before turning back to Jaela. The Keeper then casts another spell, this one contacting Lalia and repeating the message he sent his mother, albeit with the addition of an expression of love. The response is much shorter: “Good that you’re alive. Sharn was attacked. Tasra is dead. Stop by when it’s convenient.”
“Yup,” Luna says definitively, nodding her head. “You’re gonna dieeeeee!”
Despite the circumstances, even Jaela laughs at that, while Gareth just sighs. Then Jaela casts the third and last spell, this once contacting Sora Teraza: “The Angels have returned. Korm and Gareth wish to meet you to discuss aid against the aberrations. Can they come now? Or later?”
The blind hag responds, “I know of their return. And of your predicament. They may come to us now. We shall be awaiting them.”
“Thank you,” Gareth says, inclining his head to the Keeper, before turning to the other Angels. “Shall we go?”
“Yes,” says Nameless. Looking at the Keeper, he adds, “We shall all return here tomorrow morning. Hopefully with some good news.”
Jaela nods and responds, “I do not know what will come, but this much is true, I am more hopeful now than I have been since your deaths. May the Flame watch over you all.”
With that, one by one, the Angels depart.
* In mechanical terms, that means epic byeshk weapons.
Last edited:
SHHHH!!! Do you know what would happen if Luna ever laid eyes on all the toys Bruce Wayne has and the furnishings in Wayne Manor?
Welcome to the SH btw.
shilsen
Adventurer
What he said. We just played the 100th session of the game last night, where lots of ass was kicked and much mayhem ensued. It looks very likely that we'll be wrapping things up in one more session, which'll likely happen in two weeks time. That's also about the time I'll be done with my end of semester work, so I'll get back to posting here.
carborundum
Adventurer
Can't wait!
More Angels, and Jollydoc is doing another SH soon too. The summer is looking good
More Angels, and Jollydoc is doing another SH soon too. The summer is looking good
shilsen
Adventurer
Speaking of more SH stuff, after we're done with the current campaign, I'm planning to run Paizo's Kingmaker AP, but set it in Eberron, picking up a year or two after the events of the Guardian Angels' campaign. I'm not sure I'll actually do another SH for it, but it's a distinct possibility.Can't wait!
More Angels, and Jollydoc is doing another SH soon too. The summer is looking good
shilsen
Adventurer
The next day, the Angels reconvene at Flamekeep to discuss the results of their individual trips with each other and with Jaela. To the utter lack of surprise of all, Six has a fair amount to share about Luna’s activities at Stormhome, where the two of them had gone to request aid of House Lyrandar.
“I may have misheard that,” Korm asks, attempting to—and failing at—hiding his merriment. “What did Luna tell the patriarch of House Lyrandar?”
Six looks down at the roll of parchment in his hand and replies, “After I had explained the situation to Esravash d’Lyrandar and been told that she was hesitant to provide us with airships, Luna said, ‘Don’t you want to participate in this? It’s your civic duty!’ I believe,” he continues, even his mechanically uninflected tones sounding a little pained, “She also said, ‘This is no time to be a fuss-budget!’ That’s when I began to note what was said, in case someone tried to kill us for it later.”
As Korm begins to shake with suppressed laughter, Luna growls, half-laughing herself, “What? We got the airships, didn’t we?”
“Yes,” continues Six, “I’m still slightly amazed that we weren’t attacked right there*. Esravash was quite … patient. She said that even though she would not compel any members of her fleet to aid us, she would speak to them on our behalf, and give them permission to aid us if they so wished. Which she did, and quite eloquently, I think.”
“Hey!” Luna interrupts, “I helped!”
“Yes,” Six continues calmly, “Luna said,” he consults the parchment again, “‘Do you want us to do a demonstration? Maybe a diorama where I can blow things up?’ I wonder why,” he says dryly, “They refused. Especially when she turned into a bear and told them, ‘Only YOU can prevent daelkyr!’”
Gareth pauses to help Korm, who has fallen off his seat at this point, off the floor and says, hiding a grin himself, “But you did get two airships?”
“Yes,” says Six, consulting the document again. “Falcon and Blackjack. The captains said they would reach Flamekeep tomorrow. That’s the fastest time they could make.”
“I’m not complaining,” says Gareth. “I’m sure they will come in very handy.”
“I hope so,” says Six. “I made a few plans, but that depends on what help we’re getting from Sharn – and Droaam.”
“Yes,” rasps Nameless, who has been listening silently thus far. “What happened in Droaam?”
“We met Sora Katra and Sora Teraza,” Korm replies, “And Teraza and I talked about what help they can give us, while Katra and Gareth made kissy-face.”
“What?!” Gareth turns pink, partly in embarrassment and partly as he belatedly realizes that Korm is pulling his leg. He hurriedly continues, “Anyway, after we spoke, Sora Katra agreed to send us six of Sora Maenya’s elite troll guard, especially since her sister wasn’t there to argue with. She said they’re powerful and vicious fighters, and should come in handy. They’re in the other room.”
“I remember seeing some of those with Sora Maenya,” Nameless comments, musing aloud, “They might be especially useful if—or when—we engage Mual-Tar, due to its ability to disrupt or negate magic.”
“That’s what we figured,” Korm says. “Some of us aren’t at our best,” he chuckles grimly, “When we have no magic available.”
“Correct. But, for when magic is available, I have obtained some additional aid from Sharn,” the alienist says. “While the adventuring companies were … recalcitrant, the arcane guilds were much more amenable. I brought six of their mages with me, well-equipped with scrolls and wands when their meager list of daily spells runs out. Trillia offered to come along as well, but—as one of the few competent arcanists in Sharn now—I thought that she should remain there.”
The alienist then adds, “While I was there, I also contacted Prine in Argonnessen. His skills are not as dependent on magic as most of ours, and he agreed to join us. I believe he will arrive early tomorrow. And,” he turns to Gareth, “He will be bringing the dragonscale armor you commissioned.”
The paladin beams broadly at the news. “Excellent! I had been wondering about that.”
“Of course you were,” chuckles Korm, “It’s very important that we all look really pretty when that Worm eats us!”
Once the others finish laughing, Jaela asks the Angels, “What are you planning to do next? We do not have much time before the aberration army arrives. I spoke to Cedric earlier today and he estimates they will be close enough to attack early the day after tomorrow.”
“I think,” Nameless says, “We need to go to Thronehold now. Setting up what we hope to do will take time.” He looks around at the other Angels. “Are you ready?”
* * *
A little later…
Somewhere in his mind, Warden Commander Frey knows that he strikes a comical figure, eyes bulging and jaw hanging open, but right now all he can focus on is what he’s just been told. “You … you … what?!”
“We already told you,” grumbles the giant—and apparently both intelligent and speaking—bear that squats on the lawn before him, in a strangely tinny voice. “We need to borrow a piece of Thronehold, drop it in the bay, create a giant tidal wave and destroy the aberration army attacking Flamekeep. And then we can focus on fighting the stupid giant snake and maybe the daelkyr lord called Anta…, um, Antr….” She glances in apparent irritation at the figures around her. “What in Dolurrh is its name?”
“Antaratma,” rasps the slender, overly pale human standing beside her, leaning on a staff. Though he seems an otherwise unremarkable young man, there is something unnerving about his gaze. And the way his left arm flexes, in a strangely boneless manner.
Frey pulls his gaze away from the man’s appendage as the big orc standing on the other side of the bear chuckles and shakes his head. He is the biggest orc that the Warden Commander has ever seen, arms bulging with giant muscles, which—like the broad chest revealed by his loose robe—are crisscrossed by a network of tiny scars. “I can never remember or say that properly, Nameless. We need a better name. Ant, anta … I have it! Auntie!”
As the orc laughs, the warforged standing at the rear of the group also emits a dry chuckle, “I like that name. Let’s use it.” Despite the humor, it continues watching Frey and his Wardens intently, metal fingers resting on a coiled spiked chain at its hip, what look like little wisps of smoke seeping—and fading away—constantly from his mechanical form.
The most seemingly normal of the five, a man in shining plate-mail armor heavily decorated with the insignia of the Silver Flame, rolls his eyes and steps forward, saying politely yet firmly, “Warden Commander, I apologize for springing this situation on you. Unfortunately, the very future of Khorvaire may hinge on this battle, and using a part of Thronehold is our best chance of success. We are the Guardian Angels of Sharn, known personally to the monarchs of the Five Nations, many of whom have personal debts of gratitude to us. You will not, I promise you, face any problems by giving in to our request. Will you stand aside?”
As he finishes, Frey licks his lips, preparing to respond but still uncertain exactly what he can or should say. Then the staff-wielding human steps forward, extending a letter, “Here. The Keeper of the Flame, Jaela Daran,” he says harshly, “Provided this document asking you to cooperate with us.”
“Yeah,” says the bear behind him, before turning to the warforged. “Hey, Six – show him your little diorama of the giant snake! That’ll show him how big a deal this is!”
Unable to help himself, Frey snaps, “You are all insane!”
The thin human frowns and replies, “Yes, but that’s hardly the point. We need to do this and we’re wasting time! And we’re only taking the most useless part of Thronehold. So please stand aside.”
“Be nice, Nameless,” growls the bear, before looking down at Frey. “Are you worried about your house, mister Warden? Tell us where it is and we can relocate it. Really!”
The man in Silver Flame armor frowns and attempts to shush his companions and explain the situation again, ignoring the guffaws of the orc. Frey, feeling the beginnings of a pounding headache, finally raises a hand and says, “Please – listen to me! I cannot simply accept your request. My superiors would never have it, and we—the Throne Wardens—are sworn to defend Thronehold till Galifar is reunited. But,” he continues hurriedly and loudly, before he can be interrupted, “I know of your reputation and will not uselessly sacrifice my people.” Out of the corners of his eyes, Frey glimpses relieved expressions on the faces of the dozen Throne Wardens standing in a loose semi-circle behind him, as he continues, “So, I shall only do this under duress. I shall oppose you alone and if you can best me i….”
The thin human interrupts with a curt, “Luna – sit on him!”
The last thing Frey sees, as he hurriedly begins to draw his sword, is a huge ursine grin spread over the face of the giant bear … before it leaps.
* * *
That night…
“So,” Korm says, as the group is about to settle down to sleep in the chambers provided them in Flamekeep, “Tomorrow we continue excavating that part of Thronehold and set it up to drop at a moment’s notice? And the day after that, we fight. Starting out with me at Thronehold to drop part of the island and Luna flying over the bay to help guide the tidal wave?”
“Yes,” says Nameless, noting the Gatekeeper’s frown. “Is that a problem? It’s as simple as I could make a very complicated process.”
Korm grunts, “I understand the process just fine. I just don’t want to miss the start of the battle.”
“I see,” the alienist responds, in a tone which implies that he doesn’t. “You need not worry. It is virtually certain that the battle will be well under way when you join us, which you can easily do using a master earth once you are done at Thronehold.”
“Yes,” says Gareth, with an expectant grin, “I think I might be a little lonely on the front lines without you. Six is going to be up in the airships, right?”
“Correct,” says the warforged. “We will need someone watching the battle from up high, both to let you know what’s going on and to bring aid when and where you need it.”
“I do think that is a good idea,” says Nameless. “Even though we will be separated at the start of battle, it is necessary and will raise our chances of success. And when Luna….” He frowns, looking around the room, before asking, slowly and carefully, “Where is Luna?”
At that moment, in the depths of Thronehold…
The elite warforged guards standing outside the chamber of the actual Silver Flame, look helplessly at each other, and then back at the giant bear sitting on its haunches and filling the entire corridor before them. One of the guardians takes a step forward and says carefully, “I am deeply sorry. But we cannot let you go beyond this point.” He hesitates and adds, “Nobody can enter the sanctum without the Keeper. You should not be here without her.”
“But why?” says the bear in a tone which can be best described as intensely whiny. “Jaela brought me here earlier, remember? I’m one of the good guys! Don’t worry – I won’t extinguish it or something.”
Since they are physically unable to blink and wince, none of the warforged do so, but it takes a few seconds before the same one says, “Thank you … for the reassurance. But we cannot let you pass. I apologize.”
Luna sighs theatrically and says, “Fine! But can’t you just open the door for me? I need to communicate with it. Please!”
“Comm…unicate with the Flame?”
“Yeah! Pleeeeeeeaaase!”
The warforged again exchange glances and then one says, “That … is acceptable.” Two of the warforged step over and push on the giant doors behind them, which swing smoothly open. Revealed in the space beyond them is a huge room, its walls decorated with intricate carvings, but its floor completely bare. The only thing within it is a stone ring, a foot high and approximately fifteen feet in diameter. From within the ring, a pillar of silver flame reaches up to the ceiling of the chamber.
Luna grins broadly as she sees the Silver Flame and says loudly, “Hello! Can you hear me now?”
Unsurprisingly, there is no reply from the Flame, nor do the warforged—who are watching her curiously—break the silence that follows the question. After a few seconds pass, Luna nods and says, “Okay, so you don’t speak. Let me, hmm, think at you instead!”
The giant bear wrinkles its muzzle in concentration as Luna attempts to telepathically communicate with the Flame. Again, she feels no response or sense of connection, but continues anyway. Luna covers everything that has been going on and, finally, ends by thinking, “It is incumbent upon you to help. We need anything that we can get! Okay?”
Luna waits a few more moments and then, unabashed by the lack of response, nods decisively and says aloud, “Well, just so you know!” She grins at the warforged and adds, “Thanks! I appreciate it.” Then she turns and lumbers away, pausing only to scratch her back by rubbing herself vigorously against one of the sides of the corridor.
* * * * * * * * * *
The next day, as some of the Angels prepare to leave Flamekeep again and head to Thronehold to continue making preparations there, Cedric returns from the field, teleported in by Essirise. The dragon, again in her elven form, has a fairly perturbed expression, and while Cedric has his habitual demeanor, some of the Angels realize that he is very worried.
Essirise quickly explains why. “We lost Karaglen!”
“The other dragon?” asks Korm, pausing from pouring another layer of orcish spices on his breakfast, “What happened?”
“Mual-Tar!” Essirise replies, dropping into a chair and putting a hand to her head. “We were helping Cedric’s forces harry the aberration forces as planned and try to push them towards the river. Karaglen and I were in our natural forms, flying over part of the army and using our breath weapons. Mual-Tar was towards the head of the army a long distance away … or that’s what we thought! Only….” She pauses and then continues. “Only it suddenly appeared, right out of the ground beneath us. It just reached up, grabbed Karaglen and ripped him to shreds in seconds – and ate him!”
“How far up were you?” asks Six.
Essirise stares at the warforged for a moment and then says, “Karaglen was about forty feet off the ground and I was ten feet higher – so we could get the maximum area with our breath. If I was lower than him….” She says nothing more, repressing a small shudder.
Nameless turns to Luna. “Did you know the snake could do that?”
The shifter shakes her head decisively. “It’s three hundred feet long and can get half its body off the ground, so I knew it can reach pretty high, but not that it can burrow. Especially not that fast!”
Gareth frowns. “That makes things more complicated. For you too, Cedric.”
The other paladin pulls a wry face. “I’ve thought about that, but we’re generally staying further from the army than Essirise and poor Karaglen were. Especially now.” He sighs and then adds, “On the brighter side, we’ve been doing fairly well at both staying at a distance and slowing down the aberrations with our archers and hit-and-run attacks. And slowly pushing them east, as you want. I’m guessing you have till tomorrow morning before they get here.”
“Good,” says Nameless. “We can use the time.”
“Yes,” says Six, “But there are new things to consider.” He begins to count off on his metal fingers. “The snake can tunnel, it is coming after the Flame, and it has a way of detecting things in the distance while underground – since it could detect the dragons while burrowing. Our plans assumed the snake needs to be above ground to travel. What’s to prevent it from popping up on Nameless and Gareth where they’ll be on the ground, and then burrowing to the Silver Flame and … doing whatever it wants to.”
“There are going to be a lot of people out there,” says Gareth. “I doubt it can pick out Nameless and me.”
“Really?” Six’s tone is flat and dismissive. “The snake detected flying dragons while it was underground. If that had anything to do with the dragons’ magic or a connection to Xoriat—remember, Karaglen was an alienist—then Nameless would be like a beacon. And if it can detect the Silver Flame, then you probably will be too. All of us will.”
Nameless nods. “Six has a point.”
Six nods mechanically in response and then turns to Gareth and Jaela, who is also present. “Is there a beginning point to the Flame? If so, that is where our fight will probably occur.”
Jaela says, “It does not extend beyond the chamber of the Flame. The chamber—and the Cathedral—was built around the spot where it appeared.”
“Should we all wait there then?” Six asks his companions.
After a few moments of thought, Nameless shakes his head. “We cannot afford to. The defenders will never last without us there. And if necessary, I can teleport us to the chamber.”
“I hope it doesn’t come to that,” says Jaela, “But if it does, travel to the corridor outside the chamber, since it is warded against teleportation and similar magic.”
“Very well.”
After a little more discussion, the members of the gathered group disperse and head to their various tasks.
* * *
Some of the Angels spend the rest of the day working at Thronehold, preparing a chunk of the island so that it can be dropped into the bay with a well-placed earthquake spell. Luna and Korm take forms which allow them to tunnel into the earth and weaken the bedrock, with help from summoned elementals and precisely placed disintegrate spells from Nameless. An enlarged Gareth strides back and forth, wielding the titanic maul the Angels obtained in their earlier adventures, smashing large rocks with a single blow.
Later, the four of them travel out into the bay, first flying over it and then descending into its waters in various ways, to study and decide what will be the best route for the tidal wave to take. Finally, they visit the low cliffs and the plain outside Flamekeep to make final decisions about how to best achieve their idiosyncratic objective.
Meanwhile, back in Flamekeep, Six spends his time making battle plans with Knight Commander Malik Otherro, who is leading the defense of the city. They visit the defensive positions and fortifications, especially the miles of wall on the far side of the eastern bridge, where they hope to hold the attackers.
Once this is done, Otherro introduces the warforged to those commanding the special units that he has available – the Argent Guard, an elite force of a little over two hundred warriors and paladins; two dozen wingwyrds, the Flame-touched gargoyles which guard the Cathedral; and the Silver Pyromancers, twenty-five particularly skilled arcanists and clerics.
…
Late in the evening, the Angels meet again at the Cathedral and share notes about their progress. Prine, who has just arrived from Argonnessen, joins them, much to the pleasure of Gareth, since he brought the dragonskin armor that the paladin had commissioned.
“What do you guys think of our chances?” asks Prine, as he joins them for a meal.
Six shrugs mechanically. “We are prepared. I do not know if it will be enough.”
“Frankly,” Korm says, grinning hugely, “I think we’re all gonna die!”
Prine smiles back. “At least you’re confident!”
“I am,” says Gareth with a frown, “But not the way Korm is being. I have no intention of dying.”
“Me neither,” snorts Luna. “And you idiots better not die! I gave up all those pretty gems to bring you back!”
“Noted,” rasps Nameless, with a thin smile. “Gargantuan magic-eating snakes do not worry me—much—but I would never, ever, risk making you waste shiny things.”
As the banter continues, Six interrupts, “Come and look.”
The warforged, with neither need nor ability to eat and drink, has been standing at a window, looking out over Flamekeep. As the others move to join him, they see the city spread below them, extending outwards from the rocky mount atop which the Cathedral of the Flame stands. Despite the gathering gloom as dusk turns into night, there are much fewer lights than would normally be the case before Flamekeep was evacuated, most of them clustered around the Cathedral and the huge bridge leading over the dark waters surrounding the city. A thick band of lights is visible in a mile-long stretch around the terminus of the bridge, where the defenders work to strengthen the fortifications where the primary defense will occur.
Beyond the fortifications there is primarily darkness. Until, far away, perhaps a dozen miles across the plains of Thrane, the watchers’ eyes are drawn to another thick band of light. It is muted and indistinct, but the Guardian Angels know that it is a combination of hundreds, if not thousands, of torches and the flames of burning farms and villages.
“They are here.”
* Luna rolling a timely natural 20 on her Diplomacy check helped a lot.
“I may have misheard that,” Korm asks, attempting to—and failing at—hiding his merriment. “What did Luna tell the patriarch of House Lyrandar?”
Six looks down at the roll of parchment in his hand and replies, “After I had explained the situation to Esravash d’Lyrandar and been told that she was hesitant to provide us with airships, Luna said, ‘Don’t you want to participate in this? It’s your civic duty!’ I believe,” he continues, even his mechanically uninflected tones sounding a little pained, “She also said, ‘This is no time to be a fuss-budget!’ That’s when I began to note what was said, in case someone tried to kill us for it later.”
As Korm begins to shake with suppressed laughter, Luna growls, half-laughing herself, “What? We got the airships, didn’t we?”
“Yes,” continues Six, “I’m still slightly amazed that we weren’t attacked right there*. Esravash was quite … patient. She said that even though she would not compel any members of her fleet to aid us, she would speak to them on our behalf, and give them permission to aid us if they so wished. Which she did, and quite eloquently, I think.”
“Hey!” Luna interrupts, “I helped!”
“Yes,” Six continues calmly, “Luna said,” he consults the parchment again, “‘Do you want us to do a demonstration? Maybe a diorama where I can blow things up?’ I wonder why,” he says dryly, “They refused. Especially when she turned into a bear and told them, ‘Only YOU can prevent daelkyr!’”
Gareth pauses to help Korm, who has fallen off his seat at this point, off the floor and says, hiding a grin himself, “But you did get two airships?”
“Yes,” says Six, consulting the document again. “Falcon and Blackjack. The captains said they would reach Flamekeep tomorrow. That’s the fastest time they could make.”
“I’m not complaining,” says Gareth. “I’m sure they will come in very handy.”
“I hope so,” says Six. “I made a few plans, but that depends on what help we’re getting from Sharn – and Droaam.”
“Yes,” rasps Nameless, who has been listening silently thus far. “What happened in Droaam?”
“We met Sora Katra and Sora Teraza,” Korm replies, “And Teraza and I talked about what help they can give us, while Katra and Gareth made kissy-face.”
“What?!” Gareth turns pink, partly in embarrassment and partly as he belatedly realizes that Korm is pulling his leg. He hurriedly continues, “Anyway, after we spoke, Sora Katra agreed to send us six of Sora Maenya’s elite troll guard, especially since her sister wasn’t there to argue with. She said they’re powerful and vicious fighters, and should come in handy. They’re in the other room.”
“I remember seeing some of those with Sora Maenya,” Nameless comments, musing aloud, “They might be especially useful if—or when—we engage Mual-Tar, due to its ability to disrupt or negate magic.”
“That’s what we figured,” Korm says. “Some of us aren’t at our best,” he chuckles grimly, “When we have no magic available.”
“Correct. But, for when magic is available, I have obtained some additional aid from Sharn,” the alienist says. “While the adventuring companies were … recalcitrant, the arcane guilds were much more amenable. I brought six of their mages with me, well-equipped with scrolls and wands when their meager list of daily spells runs out. Trillia offered to come along as well, but—as one of the few competent arcanists in Sharn now—I thought that she should remain there.”
The alienist then adds, “While I was there, I also contacted Prine in Argonnessen. His skills are not as dependent on magic as most of ours, and he agreed to join us. I believe he will arrive early tomorrow. And,” he turns to Gareth, “He will be bringing the dragonscale armor you commissioned.”
The paladin beams broadly at the news. “Excellent! I had been wondering about that.”
“Of course you were,” chuckles Korm, “It’s very important that we all look really pretty when that Worm eats us!”
Once the others finish laughing, Jaela asks the Angels, “What are you planning to do next? We do not have much time before the aberration army arrives. I spoke to Cedric earlier today and he estimates they will be close enough to attack early the day after tomorrow.”
“I think,” Nameless says, “We need to go to Thronehold now. Setting up what we hope to do will take time.” He looks around at the other Angels. “Are you ready?”
* * *
A little later…
Somewhere in his mind, Warden Commander Frey knows that he strikes a comical figure, eyes bulging and jaw hanging open, but right now all he can focus on is what he’s just been told. “You … you … what?!”
“We already told you,” grumbles the giant—and apparently both intelligent and speaking—bear that squats on the lawn before him, in a strangely tinny voice. “We need to borrow a piece of Thronehold, drop it in the bay, create a giant tidal wave and destroy the aberration army attacking Flamekeep. And then we can focus on fighting the stupid giant snake and maybe the daelkyr lord called Anta…, um, Antr….” She glances in apparent irritation at the figures around her. “What in Dolurrh is its name?”
“Antaratma,” rasps the slender, overly pale human standing beside her, leaning on a staff. Though he seems an otherwise unremarkable young man, there is something unnerving about his gaze. And the way his left arm flexes, in a strangely boneless manner.
Frey pulls his gaze away from the man’s appendage as the big orc standing on the other side of the bear chuckles and shakes his head. He is the biggest orc that the Warden Commander has ever seen, arms bulging with giant muscles, which—like the broad chest revealed by his loose robe—are crisscrossed by a network of tiny scars. “I can never remember or say that properly, Nameless. We need a better name. Ant, anta … I have it! Auntie!”
As the orc laughs, the warforged standing at the rear of the group also emits a dry chuckle, “I like that name. Let’s use it.” Despite the humor, it continues watching Frey and his Wardens intently, metal fingers resting on a coiled spiked chain at its hip, what look like little wisps of smoke seeping—and fading away—constantly from his mechanical form.
The most seemingly normal of the five, a man in shining plate-mail armor heavily decorated with the insignia of the Silver Flame, rolls his eyes and steps forward, saying politely yet firmly, “Warden Commander, I apologize for springing this situation on you. Unfortunately, the very future of Khorvaire may hinge on this battle, and using a part of Thronehold is our best chance of success. We are the Guardian Angels of Sharn, known personally to the monarchs of the Five Nations, many of whom have personal debts of gratitude to us. You will not, I promise you, face any problems by giving in to our request. Will you stand aside?”
As he finishes, Frey licks his lips, preparing to respond but still uncertain exactly what he can or should say. Then the staff-wielding human steps forward, extending a letter, “Here. The Keeper of the Flame, Jaela Daran,” he says harshly, “Provided this document asking you to cooperate with us.”
“Yeah,” says the bear behind him, before turning to the warforged. “Hey, Six – show him your little diorama of the giant snake! That’ll show him how big a deal this is!”
Unable to help himself, Frey snaps, “You are all insane!”
The thin human frowns and replies, “Yes, but that’s hardly the point. We need to do this and we’re wasting time! And we’re only taking the most useless part of Thronehold. So please stand aside.”
“Be nice, Nameless,” growls the bear, before looking down at Frey. “Are you worried about your house, mister Warden? Tell us where it is and we can relocate it. Really!”
The man in Silver Flame armor frowns and attempts to shush his companions and explain the situation again, ignoring the guffaws of the orc. Frey, feeling the beginnings of a pounding headache, finally raises a hand and says, “Please – listen to me! I cannot simply accept your request. My superiors would never have it, and we—the Throne Wardens—are sworn to defend Thronehold till Galifar is reunited. But,” he continues hurriedly and loudly, before he can be interrupted, “I know of your reputation and will not uselessly sacrifice my people.” Out of the corners of his eyes, Frey glimpses relieved expressions on the faces of the dozen Throne Wardens standing in a loose semi-circle behind him, as he continues, “So, I shall only do this under duress. I shall oppose you alone and if you can best me i….”
The thin human interrupts with a curt, “Luna – sit on him!”
The last thing Frey sees, as he hurriedly begins to draw his sword, is a huge ursine grin spread over the face of the giant bear … before it leaps.
* * *
That night…
“So,” Korm says, as the group is about to settle down to sleep in the chambers provided them in Flamekeep, “Tomorrow we continue excavating that part of Thronehold and set it up to drop at a moment’s notice? And the day after that, we fight. Starting out with me at Thronehold to drop part of the island and Luna flying over the bay to help guide the tidal wave?”
“Yes,” says Nameless, noting the Gatekeeper’s frown. “Is that a problem? It’s as simple as I could make a very complicated process.”
Korm grunts, “I understand the process just fine. I just don’t want to miss the start of the battle.”
“I see,” the alienist responds, in a tone which implies that he doesn’t. “You need not worry. It is virtually certain that the battle will be well under way when you join us, which you can easily do using a master earth once you are done at Thronehold.”
“Yes,” says Gareth, with an expectant grin, “I think I might be a little lonely on the front lines without you. Six is going to be up in the airships, right?”
“Correct,” says the warforged. “We will need someone watching the battle from up high, both to let you know what’s going on and to bring aid when and where you need it.”
“I do think that is a good idea,” says Nameless. “Even though we will be separated at the start of battle, it is necessary and will raise our chances of success. And when Luna….” He frowns, looking around the room, before asking, slowly and carefully, “Where is Luna?”
At that moment, in the depths of Thronehold…
The elite warforged guards standing outside the chamber of the actual Silver Flame, look helplessly at each other, and then back at the giant bear sitting on its haunches and filling the entire corridor before them. One of the guardians takes a step forward and says carefully, “I am deeply sorry. But we cannot let you go beyond this point.” He hesitates and adds, “Nobody can enter the sanctum without the Keeper. You should not be here without her.”
“But why?” says the bear in a tone which can be best described as intensely whiny. “Jaela brought me here earlier, remember? I’m one of the good guys! Don’t worry – I won’t extinguish it or something.”
Since they are physically unable to blink and wince, none of the warforged do so, but it takes a few seconds before the same one says, “Thank you … for the reassurance. But we cannot let you pass. I apologize.”
Luna sighs theatrically and says, “Fine! But can’t you just open the door for me? I need to communicate with it. Please!”
“Comm…unicate with the Flame?”
“Yeah! Pleeeeeeeaaase!”
The warforged again exchange glances and then one says, “That … is acceptable.” Two of the warforged step over and push on the giant doors behind them, which swing smoothly open. Revealed in the space beyond them is a huge room, its walls decorated with intricate carvings, but its floor completely bare. The only thing within it is a stone ring, a foot high and approximately fifteen feet in diameter. From within the ring, a pillar of silver flame reaches up to the ceiling of the chamber.
Luna grins broadly as she sees the Silver Flame and says loudly, “Hello! Can you hear me now?”
Unsurprisingly, there is no reply from the Flame, nor do the warforged—who are watching her curiously—break the silence that follows the question. After a few seconds pass, Luna nods and says, “Okay, so you don’t speak. Let me, hmm, think at you instead!”
The giant bear wrinkles its muzzle in concentration as Luna attempts to telepathically communicate with the Flame. Again, she feels no response or sense of connection, but continues anyway. Luna covers everything that has been going on and, finally, ends by thinking, “It is incumbent upon you to help. We need anything that we can get! Okay?”
Luna waits a few more moments and then, unabashed by the lack of response, nods decisively and says aloud, “Well, just so you know!” She grins at the warforged and adds, “Thanks! I appreciate it.” Then she turns and lumbers away, pausing only to scratch her back by rubbing herself vigorously against one of the sides of the corridor.
* * * * * * * * * *
The next day, as some of the Angels prepare to leave Flamekeep again and head to Thronehold to continue making preparations there, Cedric returns from the field, teleported in by Essirise. The dragon, again in her elven form, has a fairly perturbed expression, and while Cedric has his habitual demeanor, some of the Angels realize that he is very worried.
Essirise quickly explains why. “We lost Karaglen!”
“The other dragon?” asks Korm, pausing from pouring another layer of orcish spices on his breakfast, “What happened?”
“Mual-Tar!” Essirise replies, dropping into a chair and putting a hand to her head. “We were helping Cedric’s forces harry the aberration forces as planned and try to push them towards the river. Karaglen and I were in our natural forms, flying over part of the army and using our breath weapons. Mual-Tar was towards the head of the army a long distance away … or that’s what we thought! Only….” She pauses and then continues. “Only it suddenly appeared, right out of the ground beneath us. It just reached up, grabbed Karaglen and ripped him to shreds in seconds – and ate him!”
“How far up were you?” asks Six.
Essirise stares at the warforged for a moment and then says, “Karaglen was about forty feet off the ground and I was ten feet higher – so we could get the maximum area with our breath. If I was lower than him….” She says nothing more, repressing a small shudder.
Nameless turns to Luna. “Did you know the snake could do that?”
The shifter shakes her head decisively. “It’s three hundred feet long and can get half its body off the ground, so I knew it can reach pretty high, but not that it can burrow. Especially not that fast!”
Gareth frowns. “That makes things more complicated. For you too, Cedric.”
The other paladin pulls a wry face. “I’ve thought about that, but we’re generally staying further from the army than Essirise and poor Karaglen were. Especially now.” He sighs and then adds, “On the brighter side, we’ve been doing fairly well at both staying at a distance and slowing down the aberrations with our archers and hit-and-run attacks. And slowly pushing them east, as you want. I’m guessing you have till tomorrow morning before they get here.”
“Good,” says Nameless. “We can use the time.”
“Yes,” says Six, “But there are new things to consider.” He begins to count off on his metal fingers. “The snake can tunnel, it is coming after the Flame, and it has a way of detecting things in the distance while underground – since it could detect the dragons while burrowing. Our plans assumed the snake needs to be above ground to travel. What’s to prevent it from popping up on Nameless and Gareth where they’ll be on the ground, and then burrowing to the Silver Flame and … doing whatever it wants to.”
“There are going to be a lot of people out there,” says Gareth. “I doubt it can pick out Nameless and me.”
“Really?” Six’s tone is flat and dismissive. “The snake detected flying dragons while it was underground. If that had anything to do with the dragons’ magic or a connection to Xoriat—remember, Karaglen was an alienist—then Nameless would be like a beacon. And if it can detect the Silver Flame, then you probably will be too. All of us will.”
Nameless nods. “Six has a point.”
Six nods mechanically in response and then turns to Gareth and Jaela, who is also present. “Is there a beginning point to the Flame? If so, that is where our fight will probably occur.”
Jaela says, “It does not extend beyond the chamber of the Flame. The chamber—and the Cathedral—was built around the spot where it appeared.”
“Should we all wait there then?” Six asks his companions.
After a few moments of thought, Nameless shakes his head. “We cannot afford to. The defenders will never last without us there. And if necessary, I can teleport us to the chamber.”
“I hope it doesn’t come to that,” says Jaela, “But if it does, travel to the corridor outside the chamber, since it is warded against teleportation and similar magic.”
“Very well.”
After a little more discussion, the members of the gathered group disperse and head to their various tasks.
* * *
Some of the Angels spend the rest of the day working at Thronehold, preparing a chunk of the island so that it can be dropped into the bay with a well-placed earthquake spell. Luna and Korm take forms which allow them to tunnel into the earth and weaken the bedrock, with help from summoned elementals and precisely placed disintegrate spells from Nameless. An enlarged Gareth strides back and forth, wielding the titanic maul the Angels obtained in their earlier adventures, smashing large rocks with a single blow.
Later, the four of them travel out into the bay, first flying over it and then descending into its waters in various ways, to study and decide what will be the best route for the tidal wave to take. Finally, they visit the low cliffs and the plain outside Flamekeep to make final decisions about how to best achieve their idiosyncratic objective.
Meanwhile, back in Flamekeep, Six spends his time making battle plans with Knight Commander Malik Otherro, who is leading the defense of the city. They visit the defensive positions and fortifications, especially the miles of wall on the far side of the eastern bridge, where they hope to hold the attackers.
Once this is done, Otherro introduces the warforged to those commanding the special units that he has available – the Argent Guard, an elite force of a little over two hundred warriors and paladins; two dozen wingwyrds, the Flame-touched gargoyles which guard the Cathedral; and the Silver Pyromancers, twenty-five particularly skilled arcanists and clerics.
…
Late in the evening, the Angels meet again at the Cathedral and share notes about their progress. Prine, who has just arrived from Argonnessen, joins them, much to the pleasure of Gareth, since he brought the dragonskin armor that the paladin had commissioned.
“What do you guys think of our chances?” asks Prine, as he joins them for a meal.
Six shrugs mechanically. “We are prepared. I do not know if it will be enough.”
“Frankly,” Korm says, grinning hugely, “I think we’re all gonna die!”
Prine smiles back. “At least you’re confident!”
“I am,” says Gareth with a frown, “But not the way Korm is being. I have no intention of dying.”
“Me neither,” snorts Luna. “And you idiots better not die! I gave up all those pretty gems to bring you back!”
“Noted,” rasps Nameless, with a thin smile. “Gargantuan magic-eating snakes do not worry me—much—but I would never, ever, risk making you waste shiny things.”
As the banter continues, Six interrupts, “Come and look.”
The warforged, with neither need nor ability to eat and drink, has been standing at a window, looking out over Flamekeep. As the others move to join him, they see the city spread below them, extending outwards from the rocky mount atop which the Cathedral of the Flame stands. Despite the gathering gloom as dusk turns into night, there are much fewer lights than would normally be the case before Flamekeep was evacuated, most of them clustered around the Cathedral and the huge bridge leading over the dark waters surrounding the city. A thick band of lights is visible in a mile-long stretch around the terminus of the bridge, where the defenders work to strengthen the fortifications where the primary defense will occur.
Beyond the fortifications there is primarily darkness. Until, far away, perhaps a dozen miles across the plains of Thrane, the watchers’ eyes are drawn to another thick band of light. It is muted and indistinct, but the Guardian Angels know that it is a combination of hundreds, if not thousands, of torches and the flames of burning farms and villages.
“They are here.”
* Luna rolling a timely natural 20 on her Diplomacy check helped a lot.
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