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<blockquote data-quote="shilsen" data-source="post: 3046538" data-attributes="member: 198"><p><strong>Traveling in the Shadow Marches</strong></p><p></p><p>A couple of hours later, on a small hill in the Shadow Marches, one of the three watchers sees the bark of a large tree bulge outwards in a vaguely humanoid shape. Then the shape detaches itself from the tree and resolves itself into the shape of a middle-aged orc with gray hair. His right arm is outstretched, extending back into the tree, and as he steps forward, it emerges, a burly war forged at the end, behind whom appear more individuals, these ones half the previous pair’s height.</p><p></p><p>The Angels look around the area, instantly aware of the shift in temperature and climate around them. While Sharn, with its omnipresent drizzles, was moist and warm, this place is much more humid and stickily hot. The sun, which is lower in the sky and further to the east than when they saw it moments earlier, seems closer somehow. The tree they emerged from, of the same species to the one Gurr’khan led them into in Carosten Park, stands near the top of a small hill. Around the hill stretches what seems to be an endless swamp, multiple streams of water running through it. The monotonous scenery is broken up by undulating hills and clumps of vegetation, ranging from rushes and tall grasses to small collections of trees. A good-sized river flows in the distance, and there is what looks like a small town some 4-5 miles away.</p><p></p><p>“Welcome to the Shadow Marches,” says Gurr’khan, before heading towards the three orcs sitting a couple hundred feet away, cooking something over a small fire. One has risen at the group’s arrival and moves to meet Gurr’khan.</p><p></p><p>“This is where you come from?” asks Gareth, already feeling himself sweating inside his heavy armor.</p><p></p><p>Korm, who is looking around with a pleased smile and breathing in the thick air, says, “Yes. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”</p><p></p><p>Gareth looks around, seeing mainly various shades of green and not much else. “Really? I was just about to say I can see why you left!”</p><p></p><p>Korm gives him a disappointed look and walks after Gurr’khan. Nameless, having ended the spell he had used to <em>reduce</em> most of the group, follows him.</p><p></p><p>Gurr’khan is already involved in a discussion with the orc who met him, and as the others reach him, he introduces them. “Ludak. Korm’akhan. Nameless.”</p><p></p><p>That done, he adds, “It’s as I’d expected. Saala sent a message that we should meet her near the Pond of Shadows. You know it, Korm‘akhan?” </p><p></p><p>“I’ve heard of it,” says Korm, and Nameless nods too. For the benefit of the rest of the Angels, who have come up to join them, Korm adds, “It is a half-legendary place, the mists and waters of which are supposed to provide one with prophetic powers. But the tales say that it slowly robs people of their sanity too. I‘ve never been there.”</p><p></p><p>“I’ve been there once,” says Gurr’khan, “But it was a while ago.” He opens a parchment Ludak gave him and shows a crude map. “We’ll make it there tomorrow.”</p><p></p><p>“Tomorrow?” says Ludak, looking surprised. “It’s some sixty miles or so.”</p><p></p><p>“We came prepared,” says Gurr’khan. “Any news we should know of before we leave?”</p><p></p><p>“The only clan whose land you’ll be passing through are the River Snakes, and they haven’t caused any trouble recently. I did hear that three of their hunters disappeared recently.”</p><p></p><p>“Not that unusual here,” comments Korm. To his companions, he adds, “The River Snakes follow the Dragon Below, as some of the clans and tribes do. But they don’t just attack anyone they see, as a few do.”</p><p></p><p>After a little more discussion, Gurr’khan says that they should leave. Nameless, Korm and Luna conjure four mounts for the journey. Two are large black horses, with gray manes and tails. The other pair are larger, resembling large stags, their heads crowned with sharp, silvery antlers. All four creatures have legs ending in smoke-like, insubstantial hooves, which make no sound as they shift back and forth.</p><p></p><p>Seconds later, the group is galloping down the sides of the hill and into the swamp, heading north-west, Gurr’khan and Luna flying overhead in the form of eagles while the others ride. The magical mounts are incredibly fast and could potentially cover the distance to the Pond of Shadows in four or five hours. Not only do the insubstantial hooves seem to ignore physical terrain, but they pass over mud with no slackening of speed. </p><p></p><p>The watery consistency of the vast swamp that covers most of the Marches, is another matter, as the group quickly discovers. Korm, more used to detecting the subtle indications of a terrain change, shouts a warning, but the speed of Six’s mount sends it into a large patch of water, disguised by the green growth on its surface. The <em>phantom steed</em> splashes down to its belly, a desperate clutch from Six stopping him from going over its head.</p><p></p><p>“We have to slow down,” says Korm, “So we have time to see where we’re going. Water’s bad enough, but the patches of quicksand are worse.” Gurr’khan, having flown down to perch on his shoulder, squawks his agreement. </p><p></p><p>Six, having righted himself, asks, “Quicksand? Tell me again why you like this place?”</p><p></p><p>Korm shrugs. “It’s home. And we have very few gnomes.”</p><p></p><p>“That’s good enough for me.”</p><p></p><p>The group continues, though at a slower pace. Even so, they are moving about five times as fast as they would if traveling on foot through the area. Over the next five hours, they cover about thirty miles. The terrain does not change much, though the number and size of the myriad small streams does diminish. Korm says that it’s because they have left behind the Glum River, which is either source or destination of most of the streams, as they pass deeper into the area called the Crawling Swamp. </p><p></p><p>It is, he says, one of the less populated sections of the Marches, or at least as far as the humanoid clans and tribes of the area are concerned. Other creatures abound here, ranging from the purely natural to the completely monstrous, many of the latter the results of what the daelkyr invasion (which primarily entered Eberron through the Marches) left behind millennia ago.</p><p></p><p>Korm’s warning is illustrated violently, as the group is passing along a narrow stretch of foot-deep water between one of the streams and a large pool. Suddenly, three large shapes surge out of the stream, striking at the passing mounts. </p><p></p><p>Luckily for the riders, the speed of the magical creatures throws off the attackers, only one of them managing to contact well. This one’s large claw slashes deeply into Nameless’s horse, which promptly disappears. Despite his surprise, the alienist lands on his feet as his mount evaporates beneath him. Looking up at the monstrous creature looming over him, seemingly a combination of lobster, spider and serpent, he yells, “Chuul!”</p><p></p><p>Even as Nameless quickly summons three of his patented wolves to rip into the creatures, Six adroitly leaps off his mount, while Gareth and Korm follow suit more clumsily. Gurr’khan takes wing, bringing down a <em>flame strike</em> on two of the creatures, as does Luna, drawing pained shrieks and producing a smell strangely like roasted lobster. Unfortunately for the shifter, however, her position is much closer and with Six leaping out of reach, the closest chuul both slashes the stag she was sitting on and grabs her painfully in a claw.</p><p></p><p>She, however, is the only one seriously incommoded, as the chuul find a series of magical and physical attacks rain down on them. One, already hit by two <em>flame strike</em>s, staggers under an <em>arc of lightning</em> from Korm and slowly collapses under the blows of Six. </p><p></p><p>The one that grabbed Luna transfers the struggling eagle to its writhing tentacles. Luna’s relief at being free from the painfully constricting claw is short-lived, as the tentacles try to shove her into a hidden beak-like mouth. She changes back into a shifter, the increased size and strength letting her temporarily fight off the tentacles.</p><p></p><p>The third chuul, being swarmed by Nameless’s pseudonatural allies, attempts to flee, with one tasty morsel. It grabs onto Nameless and pulls him beneath it as it attempts to swim away, but the attempt slows it down just enough. Nameless, holding his breath, sees it literally disintegrate above him beneath a barrage of wolf fangs and bison horns.</p><p></p><p>As he resurfaces in the middle of a pool of blood and chuul pieces, Nameless’s creatures move to join the others in an assault on the last chuul, which is quickly ripped to shreds, Gurr’khan not even bothering to waste a spell or Gareth to struggle through the water to it. Luna extricates herself from the carcass and splashes over to join the others.</p><p></p><p>With the chuuls disposed of, Six asks, “Would these creatures have a lair nearby?”</p><p></p><p>“Quite possibly,” says Nameless. “I think we should investigate. There may be something valuable there.”</p><p></p><p>The eagle Gurr’khan reforms into the druid’s normal shape and he says, “You want to stop to look for and search a chuul lair? Just in case there’s anything valuable there?”</p><p></p><p>“Sure.”</p><p></p><p>“Adventurers is right!” says Gurr’khan disgustedly. “Hurry it up then.”</p><p></p><p>Six, with no need to breathe, and his new symbiotic eye letting him see in darkness, walks into the water to look for tracks. Luna follows him as a crocodile, while Korm grows gills and Gareth relies on his <em>ring of adaptation</em>. Due to his much slower speed, the paladin holds onto one end of a long rope that Six ties to his own belt.</p><p></p><p>After a few minutes, ripples in the water indicate their movement, and Nameless, waiting with the remaining mounts and Gurr‘khan, eventually sees them emerge on the far bank of the stream a few hundred feet away. Six waves to him and he magically flies over to join them. Six points out a huge, mostly underwater hole in the bank, partly hidden beneath large reeds. </p><p></p><p>“In there,” says Six, as he removes the rope from his belt and ties it to a rock.</p><p></p><p>“What’s that for?” asks Nameless. </p><p></p><p>“Gareth,“ chuckles Six, “He’s really slow and he could probably use a bath. So…“ </p><p></p><p>The others laugh and follow him in. The hole leads into a gently sloping tunnel, that eventually leads to a large muddy chamber with a stagnant pool in the middle and a couple of openings in the walls.</p><p></p><p>As the group carefully moves towards the pool, they catch sight of a pile of bones behind one of the openings. There is movement among them, and clicking sounds mark the advance of dozens of little chuuls. Which Luna promptly fries on the spot with a spell.</p><p></p><p>That being taken care of, the group checks the lair carefully. Other than the bones and other remains, the main thing the lair contains is in the pool, three mostly intact bodies buried in the mud at the bottom.</p><p></p><p>“Chuul like to have their victims rot for a bit before eating them. Must have figured we’d be a good addition,” says Korm.</p><p></p><p>Six checks the corpses and then says, “Nothing valuable. Only this.” He holds up a well-made falchion, its blade etched with wavy lines that look like a stream of serpents flowing down the blade.</p><p></p><p>“These must be the River Snakes hunters who were lost,” says Korm, taking the blade. “That looks like their clan markings.”</p><p></p><p>He sticks the falchion in a bag and the Angels head back out, to be met at the entrance by a glowering Gareth, evidently just having emerged from the water.</p><p></p><p>“What the hell were…,” he begins, but Six interrupts. </p><p></p><p>“Keeping you safe. And you better get back in the water. We’re done here.”</p><p></p><p>When they return and tell Gurr’khan what they found, he simply grunts and says, “We wasted enough time. Let’s go. It’s getting close to dark anyway, so lets find a place to camp.”</p><p></p><p>About forty-five minutes later, the group finds a low hill with significantly drier ground, where they set up for the night. Nameless puts up a <em>tiny hut</em> to make the stay more comfortable, causing Korm to promptly say that he’s staying outside. “What’s the use of being back here,” he argues, “If I’m not going to enjoy the weather?”</p><p></p><p>The night passes without incident till midnight. Luna, on watch with Gareth and Six, hears the softest of sounds, no more than a puff of air. Looking around to find its source, she hears a tiny, crunching sound from beside the sleeping form of Nameless.</p><p></p><p>“Gareth! Six!” she says urgently but quietly, “I heard something near Nameless.”</p><p></p><p>As the other two watch carefully, Luna walks over toward Nameless, all senses alert for a sign of danger. She still sees nothing, but as she nears him, there is a soft puff of air again.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="shilsen, post: 3046538, member: 198"] [B]Traveling in the Shadow Marches[/B] A couple of hours later, on a small hill in the Shadow Marches, one of the three watchers sees the bark of a large tree bulge outwards in a vaguely humanoid shape. Then the shape detaches itself from the tree and resolves itself into the shape of a middle-aged orc with gray hair. His right arm is outstretched, extending back into the tree, and as he steps forward, it emerges, a burly war forged at the end, behind whom appear more individuals, these ones half the previous pair’s height. The Angels look around the area, instantly aware of the shift in temperature and climate around them. While Sharn, with its omnipresent drizzles, was moist and warm, this place is much more humid and stickily hot. The sun, which is lower in the sky and further to the east than when they saw it moments earlier, seems closer somehow. The tree they emerged from, of the same species to the one Gurr’khan led them into in Carosten Park, stands near the top of a small hill. Around the hill stretches what seems to be an endless swamp, multiple streams of water running through it. The monotonous scenery is broken up by undulating hills and clumps of vegetation, ranging from rushes and tall grasses to small collections of trees. A good-sized river flows in the distance, and there is what looks like a small town some 4-5 miles away. “Welcome to the Shadow Marches,” says Gurr’khan, before heading towards the three orcs sitting a couple hundred feet away, cooking something over a small fire. One has risen at the group’s arrival and moves to meet Gurr’khan. “This is where you come from?” asks Gareth, already feeling himself sweating inside his heavy armor. Korm, who is looking around with a pleased smile and breathing in the thick air, says, “Yes. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Gareth looks around, seeing mainly various shades of green and not much else. “Really? I was just about to say I can see why you left!” Korm gives him a disappointed look and walks after Gurr’khan. Nameless, having ended the spell he had used to [I]reduce[/I] most of the group, follows him. Gurr’khan is already involved in a discussion with the orc who met him, and as the others reach him, he introduces them. “Ludak. Korm’akhan. Nameless.” That done, he adds, “It’s as I’d expected. Saala sent a message that we should meet her near the Pond of Shadows. You know it, Korm‘akhan?” “I’ve heard of it,” says Korm, and Nameless nods too. For the benefit of the rest of the Angels, who have come up to join them, Korm adds, “It is a half-legendary place, the mists and waters of which are supposed to provide one with prophetic powers. But the tales say that it slowly robs people of their sanity too. I‘ve never been there.” “I’ve been there once,” says Gurr’khan, “But it was a while ago.” He opens a parchment Ludak gave him and shows a crude map. “We’ll make it there tomorrow.” “Tomorrow?” says Ludak, looking surprised. “It’s some sixty miles or so.” “We came prepared,” says Gurr’khan. “Any news we should know of before we leave?” “The only clan whose land you’ll be passing through are the River Snakes, and they haven’t caused any trouble recently. I did hear that three of their hunters disappeared recently.” “Not that unusual here,” comments Korm. To his companions, he adds, “The River Snakes follow the Dragon Below, as some of the clans and tribes do. But they don’t just attack anyone they see, as a few do.” After a little more discussion, Gurr’khan says that they should leave. Nameless, Korm and Luna conjure four mounts for the journey. Two are large black horses, with gray manes and tails. The other pair are larger, resembling large stags, their heads crowned with sharp, silvery antlers. All four creatures have legs ending in smoke-like, insubstantial hooves, which make no sound as they shift back and forth. Seconds later, the group is galloping down the sides of the hill and into the swamp, heading north-west, Gurr’khan and Luna flying overhead in the form of eagles while the others ride. The magical mounts are incredibly fast and could potentially cover the distance to the Pond of Shadows in four or five hours. Not only do the insubstantial hooves seem to ignore physical terrain, but they pass over mud with no slackening of speed. The watery consistency of the vast swamp that covers most of the Marches, is another matter, as the group quickly discovers. Korm, more used to detecting the subtle indications of a terrain change, shouts a warning, but the speed of Six’s mount sends it into a large patch of water, disguised by the green growth on its surface. The [I]phantom steed[/I] splashes down to its belly, a desperate clutch from Six stopping him from going over its head. “We have to slow down,” says Korm, “So we have time to see where we’re going. Water’s bad enough, but the patches of quicksand are worse.” Gurr’khan, having flown down to perch on his shoulder, squawks his agreement. Six, having righted himself, asks, “Quicksand? Tell me again why you like this place?” Korm shrugs. “It’s home. And we have very few gnomes.” “That’s good enough for me.” The group continues, though at a slower pace. Even so, they are moving about five times as fast as they would if traveling on foot through the area. Over the next five hours, they cover about thirty miles. The terrain does not change much, though the number and size of the myriad small streams does diminish. Korm says that it’s because they have left behind the Glum River, which is either source or destination of most of the streams, as they pass deeper into the area called the Crawling Swamp. It is, he says, one of the less populated sections of the Marches, or at least as far as the humanoid clans and tribes of the area are concerned. Other creatures abound here, ranging from the purely natural to the completely monstrous, many of the latter the results of what the daelkyr invasion (which primarily entered Eberron through the Marches) left behind millennia ago. Korm’s warning is illustrated violently, as the group is passing along a narrow stretch of foot-deep water between one of the streams and a large pool. Suddenly, three large shapes surge out of the stream, striking at the passing mounts. Luckily for the riders, the speed of the magical creatures throws off the attackers, only one of them managing to contact well. This one’s large claw slashes deeply into Nameless’s horse, which promptly disappears. Despite his surprise, the alienist lands on his feet as his mount evaporates beneath him. Looking up at the monstrous creature looming over him, seemingly a combination of lobster, spider and serpent, he yells, “Chuul!” Even as Nameless quickly summons three of his patented wolves to rip into the creatures, Six adroitly leaps off his mount, while Gareth and Korm follow suit more clumsily. Gurr’khan takes wing, bringing down a [I]flame strike[/I] on two of the creatures, as does Luna, drawing pained shrieks and producing a smell strangely like roasted lobster. Unfortunately for the shifter, however, her position is much closer and with Six leaping out of reach, the closest chuul both slashes the stag she was sitting on and grabs her painfully in a claw. She, however, is the only one seriously incommoded, as the chuul find a series of magical and physical attacks rain down on them. One, already hit by two [I]flame strike[/I]s, staggers under an [I]arc of lightning[/I] from Korm and slowly collapses under the blows of Six. The one that grabbed Luna transfers the struggling eagle to its writhing tentacles. Luna’s relief at being free from the painfully constricting claw is short-lived, as the tentacles try to shove her into a hidden beak-like mouth. She changes back into a shifter, the increased size and strength letting her temporarily fight off the tentacles. The third chuul, being swarmed by Nameless’s pseudonatural allies, attempts to flee, with one tasty morsel. It grabs onto Nameless and pulls him beneath it as it attempts to swim away, but the attempt slows it down just enough. Nameless, holding his breath, sees it literally disintegrate above him beneath a barrage of wolf fangs and bison horns. As he resurfaces in the middle of a pool of blood and chuul pieces, Nameless’s creatures move to join the others in an assault on the last chuul, which is quickly ripped to shreds, Gurr’khan not even bothering to waste a spell or Gareth to struggle through the water to it. Luna extricates herself from the carcass and splashes over to join the others. With the chuuls disposed of, Six asks, “Would these creatures have a lair nearby?” “Quite possibly,” says Nameless. “I think we should investigate. There may be something valuable there.” The eagle Gurr’khan reforms into the druid’s normal shape and he says, “You want to stop to look for and search a chuul lair? Just in case there’s anything valuable there?” “Sure.” “Adventurers is right!” says Gurr’khan disgustedly. “Hurry it up then.” Six, with no need to breathe, and his new symbiotic eye letting him see in darkness, walks into the water to look for tracks. Luna follows him as a crocodile, while Korm grows gills and Gareth relies on his [I]ring of adaptation[/I]. Due to his much slower speed, the paladin holds onto one end of a long rope that Six ties to his own belt. After a few minutes, ripples in the water indicate their movement, and Nameless, waiting with the remaining mounts and Gurr‘khan, eventually sees them emerge on the far bank of the stream a few hundred feet away. Six waves to him and he magically flies over to join them. Six points out a huge, mostly underwater hole in the bank, partly hidden beneath large reeds. “In there,” says Six, as he removes the rope from his belt and ties it to a rock. “What’s that for?” asks Nameless. “Gareth,“ chuckles Six, “He’s really slow and he could probably use a bath. So…“ The others laugh and follow him in. The hole leads into a gently sloping tunnel, that eventually leads to a large muddy chamber with a stagnant pool in the middle and a couple of openings in the walls. As the group carefully moves towards the pool, they catch sight of a pile of bones behind one of the openings. There is movement among them, and clicking sounds mark the advance of dozens of little chuuls. Which Luna promptly fries on the spot with a spell. That being taken care of, the group checks the lair carefully. Other than the bones and other remains, the main thing the lair contains is in the pool, three mostly intact bodies buried in the mud at the bottom. “Chuul like to have their victims rot for a bit before eating them. Must have figured we’d be a good addition,” says Korm. Six checks the corpses and then says, “Nothing valuable. Only this.” He holds up a well-made falchion, its blade etched with wavy lines that look like a stream of serpents flowing down the blade. “These must be the River Snakes hunters who were lost,” says Korm, taking the blade. “That looks like their clan markings.” He sticks the falchion in a bag and the Angels head back out, to be met at the entrance by a glowering Gareth, evidently just having emerged from the water. “What the hell were…,” he begins, but Six interrupts. “Keeping you safe. And you better get back in the water. We’re done here.” When they return and tell Gurr’khan what they found, he simply grunts and says, “We wasted enough time. Let’s go. It’s getting close to dark anyway, so lets find a place to camp.” About forty-five minutes later, the group finds a low hill with significantly drier ground, where they set up for the night. Nameless puts up a [I]tiny hut[/I] to make the stay more comfortable, causing Korm to promptly say that he’s staying outside. “What’s the use of being back here,” he argues, “If I’m not going to enjoy the weather?” The night passes without incident till midnight. Luna, on watch with Gareth and Six, hears the softest of sounds, no more than a puff of air. Looking around to find its source, she hears a tiny, crunching sound from beside the sleeping form of Nameless. “Gareth! Six!” she says urgently but quietly, “I heard something near Nameless.” As the other two watch carefully, Luna walks over toward Nameless, all senses alert for a sign of danger. She still sees nothing, but as she nears him, there is a soft puff of air again. [/QUOTE]
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