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Story Hour
The Durnhill Conscripts
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<blockquote data-quote="Richards" data-source="post: 7351604" data-attributes="member: 508"><p><strong>ADVENTURE 10: HOME INVASION</strong></p><p></p><p>PC Roster: <p style="margin-left: 20px">Daleth Stormsea, elf wizard 2</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px"> Galen Thorne, human paladin 4</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px"> Kaspar Hardstrike, elf monk 4</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px"> Orion Nightsky, halfling rogue 3</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px"> Syngaard, human fighter 4</p><p></p><p>Game Session Date: 21 February 2018</p><p></p><p> - - - </p><p></p><p>The day began with another message from Skevros, through the iron rings that each of the conscripts wore. "Please assemble at the <em>Enchanted Flagon</em> at your earliest convenience," the king's adviser announced.</p><p></p><p>"Earliest convenience" sounded like it meant no particular hurry; thus, several of the conscripts opted to pick up a few supplies on the way. Galen ran into Daleth at one of the city's potion vendors and loaned him a few gold pieces to pick up a <em>potion of mage armor</em>; as Skevros had sent Daleth on numerous missions of research and inquiry lately, he hadn't been with the rest of the group that much and thus had not shared in the bounty of spoils they'd accumulated. Orion picked up a <em>potion of mage armor</em> specifically for her riding dog Carl, plus a large quantity of healing potions for whichever of the two needed them. Syngaard, too, picked up a pair of <em>potions of cure moderate wounds</em> for himself, but he did so at a different vendor several streets further away, not wanting to bump into the halfling who had so recently swapped out one of his healing potions for a <em>potion of reduce person</em>. And although his belt had spare loops for the two potion vials, he opted to wrap them in a piece of vellum and stow them inside a closed pouch at his belt. Best that damned halfling didn't even know they were there!</p><p></p><p>Kaspar, however, had not tarried to heed the call to the <em>Enchanted Flagon</em> and thus was the first of the conscripts there. Galen, Daleth, and Orion arrived together soon after, with Syngaard showing up last, having had the furthest distance to travel. He saw Carl tied by his reins to the hitching post outside the tavern, next to Galen's warhorse, Seneca, and was tempted to engage in a bit of payback, but then realized Orion would be expecting immediate retaliation on the part of the bald fighter. Best he play it cool and put his vengeance on the back burner for now; she'd get hers soon enough, but best he let her stew in her own expectations for awhile.</p><p></p><p>"Ah, we're all assembled," Skevros said as Syngaard entered the building. "Thank you for coming so soon." Syngaard noticed Galen had a mug of ale in his hand and looked at the "seen" <em>unseen servant</em> back in her normal place behind the counter. "An ale," he commanded, glad this part of their impromptu headquarters was back in business. The illusory bartender brought the bald fighter his beverage as he took his place at the table.</p><p></p><p>"I'm sending you to the Azure Glade," Skevros began.</p><p></p><p>"Again?" sputtered Daleth. "I'm starting to think I should just rent a permanent room there." Indeed, the elf wizard had just finished a three-day trek back to Durnhill from the Azure Glade, where he'd been sent by Skevros to ask for a temporary reprieve from his permanent exile to Durnhill - a reprieve which had been summarily turned down.</p><p></p><p>"Yes, I'm afraid so," the king's adviser admitted, grimacing apologetically at the elven spellcaster. "Recent events have brought home the fact that my exile is more than an inconvenience; I was unable to assist you in preventing a permanent gate from opening between Baator and our own plane, which would have allowed the armies of Hell free access to our world. Fortunately, you were able to put a stop to the ritual in time, and the calamity was averted. And thank you, Daleth, for putting forth the request to the Council on my behalf. But they still insist upon punishing me for my crimes, even now, these 32 years later."</p><p></p><p>"What?" asked Orion. "Just how old are you? Did you commit crimes as a baby or something?" The human wizard looked to be no older than 32 years old.</p><p></p><p>"I am currently 65 years old," admitted Skevros, a slight smile on his lips at the thought of himself as a criminal baby. "But my aging has stopped since my memory loss. Perhaps I should start at the beginning." He took a deep breath as if fortifying himself for a difficult task, and stared off into the distance, not looking at any of his audience. Then he began his tale.</p><p></p><p>"I was born in the Azure Glade. I grew up there, learned the wizardly arts, met a woman at the arcane college, got married, and settled down. We had a daughter, <strong>Sarah</strong>." Skevros smiled sadly at the memory. "She died when she was five."</p><p></p><p>"I'm so sorry," interjected Orion.</p><p></p><p>"Thank you," replied Skevros, still not looking at his team. "I took her death hard. I couldn't bear to remain in our home, to be constantly reminded of her. As a result, I returned to the adventuring lifestyle. It was during that time I found..." - and here he swallowed hard - "the helmet.</p><p></p><p>"I honestly thought it was a <em>helm of comprehend languages</em>," Skevros declared heatedly, as if eager to be believed. "Alas...it was not. There is a magic item called a <em>helm of opposite alignment</em>. It's an accursed device that fundamentally changes the wearer's mental disposition: a good man becomes evil after wearing it, while an evil man becomes good. I assume that's what it was, in any case. There's a gap in my memory, from the moment I put on that accursed helmet in a forgotten ruin...to turning around and seeing my wife dead, before me, in my home.</p><p></p><p>"The Azure Guard - the security forces of my birthland - were pounding on the door to arrest me, for actions I had taken during my blackout period...which I later found out was a full eight months. Eight months, and no memories of what all transpired during that time! I...I went downstairs, opened the door, and surrendered to the Guard, willingly. I believe that was a bit of a surprise for them, as they had expected me to fight them off. But they claimed I had performed quite a number of evil deeds in the previous eight months, although they refused to give me any details of my actions. As for my wife,,,I saw her dead, but I'm not even sure if I killed her or if she was slain by somebody else."</p><p></p><p>Skevros pulled a ring from his finger. "This is my wedding band," he announced. "It is also a <em>ring of nondetection</em>, preventing me from being scried upon and hiding the specifics of my alignment, my mental disposition, if you will." He turned to Galen, the paladin of Hieroneous. "Scan me, if you would. See if I detect as evil. Perform any other detection spells you desire," he offered, looking over at Daleth. Galen peered at Skevros's aura, seeking the slightest trait of evil. "He's clean," the paladin confirmed.</p><p></p><p>"Your wife: was she a halfling?" Syngaard asked suddenly.</p><p></p><p>"What? No, she was a human, like myself."</p><p></p><p>The bald fighter looked over at Galen. "My <em>detect idiot</em> spell didn't pick up anything, either," he declared.</p><p></p><p>"You obviously didn't focus it on yourself," snarled Orion.</p><p></p><p>Skevros ignored the petty bickering between the bald human fighter and the halfling rogue, returning back to his story as he replaced his wedding band. "To this day, the Council of Guilds - the rulers of the Azure Glade - has refused to name my crimes. They also decided not to kill me, accepting my exile instead. This was due to the efforts of <strong>King Leornic the Second</strong>, father of the present ruler of Durnhill. It was he who suggested exile in place of death, and he who offered up his kingdom as a place of exile. And thus, I was branded, with this." The king's wizard passed his hand before his face, and a glowing, blue rune suddenly appeared on his forehead. "This is a <em>mark of justice</em>," he explained. "It will trigger if I step outside the boundaries of the kingdom of Durnhill, slaying me instantly. And that is why I was unable to assist in the fight against the devil cult last week."</p><p></p><p>"That seems unfair," pointed out Kaspar. "So what would you have us do in the Azure Glade?"</p><p></p><p>"My house is there," Skevros explained. He passed a golden key across the table to Orion. "This is a passkey to my manor; it will not only unlock the front door but also deactivate the defenses I have in place to deter intruders."</p><p></p><p>"You think they're still working, after all these years?" asked Syngaard, doubtful.</p><p></p><p>"I am sure of it," replied Skevros. "The manor has a permanent <em>alarm</em> spell cast upon it; I would know if there had been any intruders during my absence."</p><p></p><p>"So we go into the house..." prompted Galen.</p><p></p><p>"I have always kept an extensive journal for as long as I can remember. It's entirely possible I continued the practice while I was...evil. I would like you to find those journals, should they in fact exist. They may explain some of my missing memories. In addition, <strong>Jessica</strong> and I had quite an extensive arcane library up on our second floor; I would like the tomes returned here to me. There are my original spellbooks and those of my wife, besides works on various esoteric subjects."</p><p></p><p>"So, is this a paying mission?" asked Syngaard.</p><p></p><p>"Of course," Skevros agreed. "I will pay you each a thousand pieces of gold for the retrieval of my library, and another thousand each if you can find and return any journals I might have kept."</p><p></p><p>"Is there any place in particular we should look for the journals?" Orion asked.</p><p></p><p>"They could be anywhere, I'm afraid." Skevros sketched out a quick blueprint of his manor, along with directions on how to find it. "My normal journals would be kept in the master bedroom up on the third floor; you might do best to start there."</p><p></p><p>Galen looked at the rest of the team as if to see if anybody had any further questions; thus far, it seemed like a pretty straightforward task to the paladin. "One last thing," added Skevros. "Due to the recent reminder of my existence, in having Daleth petition the Council of Guilds for a temporary reprieve from my exile, there's a good chance they will be actively looking for magical interference at my manor house. As such, I regret that I cannot risk teleporting you directly there. I have, however, made arrangements for a sturdy cart, a healthy draft horse, and a competent driver to travel to the Azure Glade with you. You will likely need the cart to haul back my books, if you are successful. You will find them just outside; I heard them pull up several minutes ago."</p><p></p><p>"Very well, then," agreed Galen. "We'll be on our way."</p><p></p><p>"Good luck," Skevros bade his team. "I hope you are successful in helping me fill in the missing gap in my life."</p><p></p><p>It was an uneventful three days of travel to the Azure Glade; the cart-driver was a taciturn fellow, skilled in the handling of his horse but not much of a conversationalist. He also, Syngaard decided, was likely unwilling to get too involved in Skevros's affairs; common folk often did best to avoid the notice of those higher above them. As for the fighter, he was more than happy to ride in the empty cart with Daleth; Kaspar chose to walk rather than further burden the draft animal.</p><p></p><p>"This is the place," announced Daleth on the third day; as the conscript with the most time spent in the Azure Glade, he had been given Skevros's directions to the manor house. It was an elaborate, three-story dwelling, a bit run-down after three decades of neglect, but still rather regal in its construction.</p><p></p><p>"The door's open!" hissed Orion to the others from her perch upon Carl. She dropped from her dog's saddle and crept up to the house. Galen dismounted from Seneca and did likewise. The others followed, while Syngaard hung back a bit and spoke softly into his ring. "Hey, Skevros," he said in a low voice, "I dunno if you can hear this, but somebody's already in your house." Then, not getting any response, he shook his head in irritation and hurried to join the others, morningstar in hand.</p><p></p><p>Orion peeked through the door and looked inside the manor. Most of the ground floor was one big dining room, with three side doors along the right-hand wall and a set of stairs along the back. Numerous <em>everburning torches</em> hung along the walls, still burning brightly with illusory flames after more than three decades. There were also glowing orbs of multicolored light floating above plinths along the walls of the main dining area; five of these shimmered with numerous shimmering colors, while the sixth was a constant purple. But as soon as the halfling stepped foot into the manor, the five prismatic spheres dropped from their suspension in the air and began oozing along towards the intruder. Orion didn't even notice at first, as she was examining the thick dust on the floor, in which could be seen three separate sets of human-sized footprints. So it looked like there were three intruders somewhere in the manor....</p><p></p><p>Daleth had just finished drinking his <em>potion of mage armor</em> when he saw the multicolored blobs approaching Orion. "Look out!" he cried, giving the halfling enough notice to dodge the strike of the nearest prismatic ooze. Unfortunately, this put her well within striking range of another that had approached from the opposite direction. The slap of the ooze's touch delivered a poison into the halfling's skin; she could feel a tingling sensation where it had hit her.</p><p></p><p>Galen had just cast his very first spell, <em>protection from evil</em>, when he heard Daleth shout his warning. He pulled the <em>sword of Zehkar</em> from its scabbard and approached, senses at the ready. Syngaard caught up to the others, took in the situation, and hissed in a stage whisper, "Hey idiot! Howzabout getting back out here and closing the door behind you? And then maybe this time use that key Skevros gave you to deactivate his house's defenses!" </p><p></p><p>Her face burning with embarrassment, Orion scooted back out of the house and shut the door - quietly, so as not to alert the intruders inside. The door locked with an audible "click." Orion gave Syngaard a quick scowl, hating him for being right, and then placed the golden key into the door's knob, standing on tippy-toes to reach. A soft, silvery glow briefly emanated from the key and then each of the group's iron rings. The halfling turned the key and looked inside. Each of the five prismatic oozes was returning to its plinth, crawling up it, and then being sucked into the air again to resume its free-floating spherical shape. "All clear," Orion whispered back to the group, then motioned for Carl to join her.</p><p></p><p>"Are you sure you want him with you?" asked Galen. He had Seneca's reins in hand and was taking him back to the cart, to be watched over by the driver. "I assume by the glow of our rings that it's now safe for us to enter. I don't think that extends to Carl, though - he has no ring." Agreeing with the paladin's logic, she returned Carl to the driver's keep while the other conscripts entered the manor.</p><p></p><p>Kaspar was the first to enter the house the second time. His keen elven eyes picked up traces of a recent battle in the dust, between the ooze defenses and the three intruders. He assumed the purple ooze had somehow been injured during the fight and was healing up. But seeing nobody on the first floor there with him, he silently opened the first of the closed doors on that level. This led to what looked to be a book-binding area, with nothing of interest but an old jar of 32-year-old congealed binding glue. The second door led to a kitchen with rusty cookware, while the third led to a pantry. Whatever had been in there 32 years ago was now unidentifiable; it was all just a mass of mold.</p><p></p><p>Galen and Orion had moved to the base of the stairs and were listening intently; from the level above them, they could hear muffled voices and the sounds of something heavy being shuffled around. Being the quickest of the group, Kaspar bounded silently up the stairs and saw a figure in dark blue robes examining a skeletal body on the floor behind him. Reasoning that anybody in here was likely up to no good, the monk threw an electrified shuriken at the intruder. Unfortunately, his target bent over the skeleton as the monk let fly with his sharp weapon, and the shuriken sailed over the robed figure's head to <em>thunk</em> in the wall across the way.</p><p></p><p>Galen exploded out of the stairwell just behind Kaspar, his senses wary for the signs of evil. Surprisingly, the blue-robed figure radiated no such aura; the paladin thus decided to question him before attacking. "Who are you?" he demanded. "What are you doing in this house?"</p><p></p><p>"How did you get in here?" demanded the looter. "Civilians are not allowed!" He turned his head to the right, aiming his gaze at a row of bookshelves. "Dammit, you two, didn't either of you shut the front door?" Then he returned his gaze to Galen, absently noting the symbol of Hieroneous on the paladin's armor. "Are you working for the lich Skevros?"</p><p></p><p><em>That</em> particular question sent doubts swimming through the heads of the conscripts. Were they actually working for a lich? Galen frowned; he'd used his innate powers to <em>detect evil</em> on Skevros and come up with nothing; was it possible that he'd had a different way to hide his alignment besides his ring? "Wh-what?" stammered Orion, coming up the steps behind Galen, followed by Syngaard and Daleth.</p><p></p><p>Seeing that the group wasn't about to leave, <strong>Reginald</strong> called out to his two thus-far-unseen partners, "No witnesses!" </p><p></p><p>That actually brought a smile to Syngaard's scarred face. He wasn't sure if these guys were evil of not - if they were, Galen would likely have plunged directly into battle, but you could never tell for sure with these holy paladin types - but if they had orders to kill the conscripts, then it seemed eminently logical that they could killed the blue-robed looters right back. Syngaard threw his <em>javelin of returning</em> at the blue-robed Azure Guard leader, scoring a good hit before the ranged weapon returned to his hand. Reginald cast a <em>scorching ray</em> spell in return, missing by a wide mile. But then his other two partners stepped out from between the bookcases, each hitting the scarred fighter with a <em>magic missile</em> spell - those never missed. "That all you got?" Syngaard roared, switching his morningstar into his right hand and advancing upon the nearest of the two newcomer Azure Guards.</p><p></p><p>Daleth, a frequent visitor to the Azure Glade in recent months, had immediately recognized the blue robes as the official uniforms of the Azure Guards, the nation's police force. He noted the distinctive runes on the Guard's robes, foreheads, and weapons (they carried heavy maces seemingly too big for a wizard to be comfortable with); each denoted a teleportation effect, ready to be triggered upon the Guard's unconsciousness or death. The elven wizard decided to test out his new <em>metamagic rod</em>, channeling a <em>magic missile</em> spell of his own at the Azure Guard facing off against Syngaard. The spell hit the foe squarely in the chest, clearly shocking him at the power behind a single such missile. He looked past Syngaard at the elf, clearly impressed - and not a little awed - at Daleth's obviously superior spellpower.</p><p></p><p>Galen and Kaspar were already crowded around Reginald, so Orion moved further down the large room, towards a magic circle inscribed on the floor. There was a book with arcane writing open on the floor inside the circle; alongside it stood a charred amulet or brooch of some sort. The rogue headed that way, but still threw one of her daggers at Reginald just to keep herself in the fight. Her aim was true, eliciting a cry of pain from the leader of the Azure Guard unit.</p><p></p><p>But Reginald had no time to concentrate on Orion, for he was busy trying to fend off a flurry of attacks from Kaspar, whose hands, feet, and elbows seemed to be everywhere at once. At the same time, Galen stabbed out with his magic longsword. He failed to hit, but there was too much for Reginald to fend off at once, and Kaspar's latest strike hit true.</p><p></p><p>Seeing Reginald was likely soon to be down for the count, Syngaard focused his attacks on one of the lackeys who had hit him with a <em>magic missile</em>. He got in a good swing at the Guard, expecting him to crumple at once like any other low-level wizard, but surprisingly, the foe stayed on his feet. <em>These guys are made of sterner stuff!</em> Syngaard thought, impressed despite himself. Little did he know that the Azure Guards studied weaponcraft as well as spellcraft, as evidenced by the heavy maces they used in battle when their most powerful spells were used up.</p><p></p><p>Reginald targeted Galen with his second - and last - prepared <em>scorching ray</em> spell. This time he was more successful, blasting the paladin in the chest and causing a small explosion of flame to scorch Galen's face. At the same time, the other two Guards were casting the last of their <em>magic missile</em> spells, one hitting Syngaard and the other striking Kaspar.</p><p></p><p>Daleth maneuvered around the room, lining up Reginald and one member of his crew with a <em>color spray</em> spell. Unfortunately, both showed the necessary fortitude to overcome the spell's effects, and the elf cursed his relative inexperience in field combat.</p><p></p><p>Orion by this time had decided to let "the boys" handle the scuffle with the Azure Guard and focus on the primary mission. Skevros wanted his books, and here was one with obvious magical writing on it. She worked her way around the magic circle to get closer, noticing as she did that the circle was already broken, over by the skeleton. If this had been a summoning circle, she realized, whatever had been summoned would have been able to escape. So, in theory at least, it should be safe to enter the circle.... She did so, grabbing up the tome and the blackened pendant, the latter of which looked to have been burned from the inside out. She stuffed the pendant into a pouch at her belt for later investigation.</p><p></p><p>Kaspar did a swinging kick that connected solidly with Reginald's breastbone, causing him to stumble backwards, but not fast enough to avoid being pierced in the side by Galen's blade. Wounded and bleeding, Reginald realized there was a good chance he wouldn't be coming out on top during this particular fight.... Still, he had to try: calling out the words to a <em>magic missile</em> spell, he sent one missile screaming into Galen and the other blasting into Kaspar.</p><p></p><p>Syngaard got in another good strike with his morningstar, but still his foe wouldn't fall. The lackeys (as he was starting to think of them) each cast a <em>ray of frost</em> spell, one hitting Kaspar and the other missing Syngaard. Then, as one, they came to the same conclusion and drew their heavy maces, ready to try physical combat now that they had used up their magical resources. But Daleth snuck up and touched one on the shoulder, releasing a <em>touch of fatigue</em> spell as he did so. This spell was much more successful, as evidenced by the way the Azure Guard had to shift the weight of his weapon to keep from dropping it.</p><p></p><p>Kaspar finished off Reginald with a leap and a kick to the jaw, which knocked the Azure Guard leader out cold on his feet and had him teleporting away before his body hit the ground. Galen, looking around for a new foe, found the second lackey within range and stabbed at him with his longsword, staggering him on his feet. At about the same time, Syngaard finished off the other Azure Guard with a solid strike from his morningstar; because of the way he teleported away, the bald fighter didn't know whether that last blow had just knocked him unconscious or killed him outright - not that Syngaard particularly cared.</p><p></p><p>Seeing both his friends out of the fight and safely (hopefully) back at headquarters, the sole remaining lackey dropped his weapon and raised his hands. "I surrender!" he cried out. "What do you want?"</p><p></p><p>"Some answers, first of all," snarled Galen, holding the <em>sword of Zehkar</em> to the Azure Guard's neck. "What were you guys doing here?"</p><p></p><p>"I--I was just doing my job!" pleaded the lackey, who looked to be all of in his late teens. "We were looking for evidence - this is a crime scene!"</p><p></p><p>"Yeah, of a crime that took place 32 years ago!" answered Galen. "Why is it so important now, all of a sudden?"</p><p></p><p>"I don't know!" blubbered the paladin's prisoner. "This is-- it's only my second week on the job! They don't tell me everything!"</p><p></p><p>"This is pointless," murmured Galen to the others. "We're not going to get any information out of this fool."</p><p></p><p>"Might as well kill him, then," offered Syngaard.</p><p></p><p>"I don't know," replied Galen, thinking up a way to deflect any suspicion from Durnhill. "Serenity might want us to bring him back to Ashfall with us - she might be able to coax some info out of him." Syngaard's brow creased as he tried to figure out why Galen was claiming they were from a different kingdom, but the lackey caught on right away. "No!" he cried. "Don't feed me to the succubus!"</p><p></p><p>And then, the lackey suddenly decided his best bet was to make a run for it - maybe he'd get lucky and get knocked out before the big guy in heavy armor could run him through or drag him to the mercies of a she-demon. He made a mad dash for the stairs, leaving his heavy mace behind - which vanished as soon as he was more than ten feet from it - and ran afoul of Daleth's extended foot, the elf wizard having seen his race to freedom. In a tangle of limbs, the young Azure Guard went crashing to the floor, his escape plan foiled. Daleth wrestled him into submission, but after a few more rounds of useless interrogation, Galen announced him beyond useless. A quick thump on the noggin with Kaspar's closed fist brought the lackey to oblivion, and he teleported away.</p><p></p><p>While the others had been dealing with the interrogation, Orion had been focusing on the primary mission, and Syngaard, seeing it wasn't likely he was going to get to kill the prisoner, joined her just so he could keep an eye on her. Together, they found four open cloth sacks partly filled with books; the shelves of the bookcases were half emptied of the volumes they had once contained. A little experimentation revealed a marvelous feature of the bags: they held much more than was remotely possible without magic! Fortunately there were no runes on the bags, so they remained behind when the Azure Guards vanished. Orion and Syngaard finished up the job the Guards had started, putting the rest of the contents of Skevros's arcane library into the <em>bags of holding</em>. Once the lackey had been dealt with, the others joined them in finishing up the task.</p><p></p><p>After that, Orion examined the skeletal remains on the floor. Judging by what remained of the victim's decaying dress, the halfling surmised this was Jessica, Skevros's late wife. "Look--she's holding a piece of paper," Orion observed, pulling it from Jessica's skeletal grip. She turned it over both ways, but it was completely blank. Holding it up to the light proved to be of no use, either - it was just a blank sheet of paper. "Weird," Orion opined. Still, the contents of the <em>bags of holding</em> were shuffled around to completely empty one, so Jessica's remains could be returned to Skevros. "I'm sure he'll want to bury her," Orion said to the group.</p><p></p><p>"That depends," replied Syngaard. "If he really is a lich, he might just want to...wait for it..."</p><p></p><p>"Waiting for it," replied Galen, willingly playing along.</p><p></p><p>"...jump her bones," finished Syngaard, sneering gleefully.</p><p></p><p>"You are truly disgusting!" said Orion. "All that time you spend in that brothel has warped your mind! But at least you recognize that no woman would ever want you unless you paid them--at probably double the normal rate!" Syngaard said nothing; he knew the truth of the matter and it was none of the damned halfling's business anyway. But he was pleased that he had gotten a rise out of her.</p><p></p><p>"That bag's yours, by the way," pointed out Syngaard. He wasn't particularly superstitious but he didn't want any magic bag that had held a dead chick's remains in it!</p><p></p><p>"The question must be asked," remarked Daleth. "Do we believe what that Guard said? Is Skevros a lich?"</p><p></p><p>"No," answered Kaspar immediately.</p><p></p><p>"He didn't detect as evil," pointed out Galen.</p><p></p><p>"That don't mean nothing," argued Syngaard. "Smart guy like him, I bet he has some magic way to get around that."</p><p></p><p>"He can't be a lich," reasoned Kaspar. "A lich's touch causes paralysis, even to those of my kind. I doubt he could overcome such an obstacle."</p><p></p><p>"But..." thought Daleth aloud, "...has he actually ever touched any of us?" That got everybody thinking back, until Orion snapped her fingers. "When he teleports us!" she cried. "We all have to be in contact with one another!"</p><p></p><p>"Good!" agreed Galen. "Then he's not a lich!" That was a relief to the young paladin - bad enough to have to work for a succubus now and again, but to be working directly for a lich...?</p><p></p><p>"I dunno..." argued Syngaard.</p><p></p><p>"That's nothing new," quipped Orion.</p><p></p><p>"Okay, let's go," said Galen, eager to be back on the road.</p><p></p><p>"I believe you are forgetting something - there's still a floor above us, and we have yet to find Skevros's journal," reminded Kaspar.</p><p></p><p>"Oh - good call," admitted Galen.</p><p></p><p>"Yeah, and that's another thousand each if we find it!" enthused Syngaard, racing up the stairs to the top level of the manor. There were four more prismatic oozes floating peacefully above their plinths, but the iron rings still made the conscripts read as "invited guests" instead of "intruders" to the magical defense system. Orion, having memorized the map Skevros had made of his manor, led the group directly to the master bedroom. She headed directly for one of the nightstands, finding its drawer locked. "Not to worry - I've got a lockpick," she informed the group.</p><p></p><p>"Yeah," replied Syngaard, hefting his morningstar, "so do I." But the group wouldn't let him open the drawer his way; instead, Orion fumbled around with her lockpicking tools, getting more irritated when the lock refused to budge.</p><p></p><p>"Hey, here's an idea," suggested Syngaard. "You ever think about using the key?"</p><p></p><p>"There is no key, you dolt!" replied Orion.</p><p></p><p>"Sure there is - that gold one Skevros gave you." Orion glared at him with irritation; the dumb lug obviously thought the same key that opened the wizard's door would open his nightstand? Just to show him how stupid his idea was, she popped the key into the lock...and it opened right up. "That...shouldn't have worked," she stammered.</p><p></p><p>"Wizards," scoffed Syngaard, managing to fill the single word with as much dripping condescension as he could. Daleth glared at him but said nothing.</p><p></p><p>"What's in there?" asked Kaspar, trying to get the group back on track. Orion pulled out a black leather book with the name "Skevros" embossed upon the spine. Slightly wigged out, she passed it over to Daleth for examination. "You're a wizard," she explained. But despite Daleth's best efforts, the book refused to open. It didn't seem to have any locking mechanism; it was just fused closed.</p><p></p><p>"Check the other nightstand," Galen suggested. This one was unlocked and it held another leather-bound book, this one inscribed, "<strong>Jessica Wrencroftt</strong>." There was a ribbon hanging out of it, and unlike her husband's, this one opened easily. It was a diary; the ribbon held the place of the last entry. Orion read aloud to the rest of the group:"That doesn't sound good," said Galen.</p><p></p><p>"It explains the blank piece of paper we found in her hands," observed Orion. "It was the scroll she had to use to stop him."</p><p></p><p>"Stop him how? And from what?" demanded Daleth.</p><p></p><p>"Turning into a lich?" reasoned Syngaard.</p><p></p><p>"And how, pray tell, does one stop someone from becoming a lich?" demanded Daleth.</p><p></p><p>"Who knows? By crossing your fingers and wishing really hard?"</p><p></p><p>"Hmmm," murmured the elf wizard. "I hate to say it, but he might be on to something. A <em>wish</em> spell on a scroll...that might have worked."</p><p></p><p>"Wait, what?" demanded Syngaard. "They have <em>wish</em> spells on scrolls? Can you buy them?"</p><p></p><p>"Not likely," explained Daleth. "First of all, the <em>wish</em> spell is one of the most powerful spells in existence. It basically allows the caster to reshape the universe as he sees fit. Only the most learned spellcasters can master the spell. Anyone else attempting it - like poor Jessica here - would be taking a terrible chance. The universe doesn't like being randomly reshaped, and can take a terrible toll on anyone trying to use it without the proper training." Syngaard was hanging on the elf's every word, taking it all in - a rather odd interest for a man who usually preferred whacking enemies with a morningstar than engaging in esoteric discussions about spell effects.</p><p></p><p>"Guys," interrupted Orion. "I found something!" There was a false bottom in Jessica's nightstand drawer, revealing an extradimensional space within which lay a third tome, this one severely burned. It appeared to be another of Skevros's journals - perhaps from before his fall to evil. It opened easily, but most of the entries within were too singed to be readable.</p><p></p><p>Deciding to be thorough, Orion investigated another room on the top floor, this one apparently a nonmagical library, while Daleth headed over to the last room. The faded pink walls and child-drawn pictures scattered on the floor told Daleth this must have been little Sarah's room. The elf was startled when a voice from the bed called out, "Hugs?" Looking in that direction, Daleth saw a porcelain doll laying upon the bed sit up and leap onto the floor. Holding out its arms, it headed toward the startled elf, who raced out of the room and slammed the door behind him.</p><p></p><p>While the rest of the group was tossing books into the <em>bags of holding</em>, Orion headed over to Daleth to see what was wrong. Opening the door to Sarah's room, the halfling was shocked and horrified as the foot-tall doll leaped up and latched onto her. "Sawah pway wiff me?" it asked plaintively.</p><p></p><p>After Orion's frantic cries of "Get it off me! Get it off me!" the doll eventually let the halfling go from its hug.</p><p></p><p>"What the Hell is that thing?" demanded Orion, her face white.</p><p></p><p>"No doubt an animated plaything for Sarah," surmised Kaspar.</p><p></p><p>"Wizards," scoffed Syngaard again. Then, sensing an opportunity, he turned to Orion and said, "Kinda creepy, ain't it? Some half-sized thing that looks sorta like you, but you know deep down shouldn't even exist. Well, now you know how I feel."</p><p></p><p>"I suppose we should take it back with us, to Skevros," suggested Galen. "He may well want it."</p><p></p><p>"Well, I ain't sticking it in my bag," said Syngaard. "Damn thing's kind of spooky."</p><p></p><p>During the three-day trek back to Durnhill, Daleth cast multiple <em>mending</em> spells on the burned journal. Near the end there was an obvious shift in tone, likely when Skevros's alignment shifted to evil. The final entry said he planned to burn "this horrific display of goody nonsense."</p><p></p><p>There was a heated debate among the conscripts on whether to outright ask Skevros if he was a lich, for there was still some doubt about the matter. By the time they arrived home, they had decided they might as well; Galen was chosen to be their spokesman. They headed straight for the <em>Enchanted Flagon</em> upon hitting the city, and not surprisingly, Skevros was there waiting for them, no doubt having scried upon their progress from time to time. The group gave Skevros all three journals and his spellbooks. "We're not sure how to get that one open," admitted Galen. Frowning, Skevros picked up the journal in question, and it opened right up at his touch.</p><p></p><p>"Wizards," scoffed Syngaard.</p><p></p><p>Skevros had opened the journal to its last page and visibly blanched at what he saw as he read the final entry. "Apparently, the last thing I was preparing to do while evil," he said, "was become a lich."</p><p></p><p>That was Galen's cue. "Sir," he asked, "are you a lich?"</p><p></p><p>"I...must admit to being unsure," Skevros admitted. "I don't <em>feel</em> like a lich. I have a pulse, I breathe...and yet I have not aged since being exiled, 32 years hence. And..." he trailed off, hesitant to admit the next bit. Still, these people had done their best for him; they deserved to know the truth. "...Healing energy has the opposite effect upon me."</p><p></p><p>"You are harmed by healing energy?" gasped Galen. "Then it's true! You are...undead."</p><p></p><p>"I'm afraid that's a distinct possibility," admitted the king's adviser. Then, turning to Orion, he asked, "Do you have the pendant?"</p><p></p><p>"That depends," the halfling said. "What do you intend to do with it?" During their trek home, Daleth had filled them all in on what he knew about liches - including their dependency on phylacteries to hold their undead life-force.</p><p></p><p>"I still have a vat of osteovox," Skevros reminded them. "We can perform a ritual to hopefully learn some of the object's background. In fact, I will step back and allow you to perform the ritual without my involvement, considering my...possible untrustworthiness."</p><p></p><p>Galen wrote a question - "Are you the phylactery of the lich Skevros?" - on a blank piece of parchment which they wrapped around the pendant and dipped into the osteovox. After waiting the allotted time, they pulled the burned pendant out of the vat to find the cryptic answer.</p><p></p><p>"What's it say?" demanded Orion.</p><p></p><p>Galen read the response written on the strip of parchment."Then it's true," gasped Skevros, sinking into a chair. "I...I am a lich."</p><p></p><p>"How is that even possible?" demanded Galen. "As you said: you breathe, you don't cause paralysis with your touch."</p><p></p><p>Piecing together the information from Jessica's journal and the evidence the party gathered, Skevros determined the scroll Jessica used most likely contained a <em>wish</em> spell; knowing she was nowhere nearly powerful enough to channel such energies on her own, the spell cost her her life in order to grant her wish to undo the effects of Skevros's alignment change. Doing so during the ritual to become a lich caused his soul to recoil in horror and reattach itself to his body, sealing him halfway between life and undeath, potentially stumbling upon the secret to eternal life.</p><p></p><p>"I will have to study my 'evil' journal in detail," remarked Skevros, "but judging by the treatment by both the Council of Guilds and now by the Azure Guard itself, I am beginning to suspect I might not have actually done anything to deserve my exile other than being what the Council of Guilds thought was a convenient scapegoat. The fact that they wanted no witnesses to their trespass into my home tells me there is something they wish to remain covered up. It will be our job to find out just what that may be."</p><p></p><p>"Um, one last thing," added Galen. "What do you want to do with...that?" He pointed to one of the <em>bags of holding</em>, from which was climbing the animated porcelain doll. Skevros frowned in puzzlement. "Strange," he remarked. "Even at this range, I feel...nothing."</p><p></p><p>"I feel something: creeped out by that freaky-ass doll," remarked Syngaard.</p><p></p><p>"This was my familiar," Skevros volunteered. "I haven't felt the connection between wizard and familiar since I woke up standing over Jessica's body, but I had assumed I must have destroyed it during my eight months of evil blackout. I made it as a playmate for Sarah, as a present on her third birthday, so I'd always be able to keep an eye on her, even when I was busy with my magical research."</p><p></p><p>"That's so sweet," replied Orion. "What's her name?"</p><p></p><p>"Sarah just called her '<strong>Dow</strong>'," replied Skevros. "It was as close as she could get to saying the word, 'doll.'"</p><p></p><p>"That's so sweet," repeated Orion.</p><p></p><p>"That's just creepy as Hell," rebutted Syngaard.</p><p></p><p> - - - </p><p></p><p>This was a cool back-story for Skevros! I'm really proud of what Logan's done with this campaign, in little 2-hour (or thereabouts) segments! He had Vicki heartbroken over Skevros's tragic history, and the rest of us all amazed at the concept of a living lich. But we all pretty much agreed that "Dow" was kind of creepy (the image Logan used for her was a manga/anime-style porcelain doll face with too-big eyes); after the session, it was pointed out that Dow (a homunculus) was available to Daleth, who has yet to summon a familiar. (He's waiting for the Improved Familiar feat.) Joey's response was an immediate, no-thought-necessary: "No, I'm good."</p><p></p><p>Both Daleth and Orion managed to level up after this adventure.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Richards, post: 7351604, member: 508"] [b]ADVENTURE 10: HOME INVASION[/b] PC Roster: [INDENT]Daleth Stormsea, elf wizard 2 Galen Thorne, human paladin 4 Kaspar Hardstrike, elf monk 4 Orion Nightsky, halfling rogue 3 Syngaard, human fighter 4[/INDENT] Game Session Date: 21 February 2018 - - - The day began with another message from Skevros, through the iron rings that each of the conscripts wore. "Please assemble at the [i]Enchanted Flagon[/i] at your earliest convenience," the king's adviser announced. "Earliest convenience" sounded like it meant no particular hurry; thus, several of the conscripts opted to pick up a few supplies on the way. Galen ran into Daleth at one of the city's potion vendors and loaned him a few gold pieces to pick up a [i]potion of mage armor[/i]; as Skevros had sent Daleth on numerous missions of research and inquiry lately, he hadn't been with the rest of the group that much and thus had not shared in the bounty of spoils they'd accumulated. Orion picked up a [i]potion of mage armor[/i] specifically for her riding dog Carl, plus a large quantity of healing potions for whichever of the two needed them. Syngaard, too, picked up a pair of [i]potions of cure moderate wounds[/i] for himself, but he did so at a different vendor several streets further away, not wanting to bump into the halfling who had so recently swapped out one of his healing potions for a [i]potion of reduce person[/i]. And although his belt had spare loops for the two potion vials, he opted to wrap them in a piece of vellum and stow them inside a closed pouch at his belt. Best that damned halfling didn't even know they were there! Kaspar, however, had not tarried to heed the call to the [i]Enchanted Flagon[/i] and thus was the first of the conscripts there. Galen, Daleth, and Orion arrived together soon after, with Syngaard showing up last, having had the furthest distance to travel. He saw Carl tied by his reins to the hitching post outside the tavern, next to Galen's warhorse, Seneca, and was tempted to engage in a bit of payback, but then realized Orion would be expecting immediate retaliation on the part of the bald fighter. Best he play it cool and put his vengeance on the back burner for now; she'd get hers soon enough, but best he let her stew in her own expectations for awhile. "Ah, we're all assembled," Skevros said as Syngaard entered the building. "Thank you for coming so soon." Syngaard noticed Galen had a mug of ale in his hand and looked at the "seen" [i]unseen servant[/i] back in her normal place behind the counter. "An ale," he commanded, glad this part of their impromptu headquarters was back in business. The illusory bartender brought the bald fighter his beverage as he took his place at the table. "I'm sending you to the Azure Glade," Skevros began. "Again?" sputtered Daleth. "I'm starting to think I should just rent a permanent room there." Indeed, the elf wizard had just finished a three-day trek back to Durnhill from the Azure Glade, where he'd been sent by Skevros to ask for a temporary reprieve from his permanent exile to Durnhill - a reprieve which had been summarily turned down. "Yes, I'm afraid so," the king's adviser admitted, grimacing apologetically at the elven spellcaster. "Recent events have brought home the fact that my exile is more than an inconvenience; I was unable to assist you in preventing a permanent gate from opening between Baator and our own plane, which would have allowed the armies of Hell free access to our world. Fortunately, you were able to put a stop to the ritual in time, and the calamity was averted. And thank you, Daleth, for putting forth the request to the Council on my behalf. But they still insist upon punishing me for my crimes, even now, these 32 years later." "What?" asked Orion. "Just how old are you? Did you commit crimes as a baby or something?" The human wizard looked to be no older than 32 years old. "I am currently 65 years old," admitted Skevros, a slight smile on his lips at the thought of himself as a criminal baby. "But my aging has stopped since my memory loss. Perhaps I should start at the beginning." He took a deep breath as if fortifying himself for a difficult task, and stared off into the distance, not looking at any of his audience. Then he began his tale. "I was born in the Azure Glade. I grew up there, learned the wizardly arts, met a woman at the arcane college, got married, and settled down. We had a daughter, [b]Sarah[/b]." Skevros smiled sadly at the memory. "She died when she was five." "I'm so sorry," interjected Orion. "Thank you," replied Skevros, still not looking at his team. "I took her death hard. I couldn't bear to remain in our home, to be constantly reminded of her. As a result, I returned to the adventuring lifestyle. It was during that time I found..." - and here he swallowed hard - "the helmet. "I honestly thought it was a [i]helm of comprehend languages[/i]," Skevros declared heatedly, as if eager to be believed. "Alas...it was not. There is a magic item called a [i]helm of opposite alignment[/i]. It's an accursed device that fundamentally changes the wearer's mental disposition: a good man becomes evil after wearing it, while an evil man becomes good. I assume that's what it was, in any case. There's a gap in my memory, from the moment I put on that accursed helmet in a forgotten ruin...to turning around and seeing my wife dead, before me, in my home. "The Azure Guard - the security forces of my birthland - were pounding on the door to arrest me, for actions I had taken during my blackout period...which I later found out was a full eight months. Eight months, and no memories of what all transpired during that time! I...I went downstairs, opened the door, and surrendered to the Guard, willingly. I believe that was a bit of a surprise for them, as they had expected me to fight them off. But they claimed I had performed quite a number of evil deeds in the previous eight months, although they refused to give me any details of my actions. As for my wife,,,I saw her dead, but I'm not even sure if I killed her or if she was slain by somebody else." Skevros pulled a ring from his finger. "This is my wedding band," he announced. "It is also a [i]ring of nondetection[/i], preventing me from being scried upon and hiding the specifics of my alignment, my mental disposition, if you will." He turned to Galen, the paladin of Hieroneous. "Scan me, if you would. See if I detect as evil. Perform any other detection spells you desire," he offered, looking over at Daleth. Galen peered at Skevros's aura, seeking the slightest trait of evil. "He's clean," the paladin confirmed. "Your wife: was she a halfling?" Syngaard asked suddenly. "What? No, she was a human, like myself." The bald fighter looked over at Galen. "My [i]detect idiot[/i] spell didn't pick up anything, either," he declared. "You obviously didn't focus it on yourself," snarled Orion. Skevros ignored the petty bickering between the bald human fighter and the halfling rogue, returning back to his story as he replaced his wedding band. "To this day, the Council of Guilds - the rulers of the Azure Glade - has refused to name my crimes. They also decided not to kill me, accepting my exile instead. This was due to the efforts of [b]King Leornic the Second[/b], father of the present ruler of Durnhill. It was he who suggested exile in place of death, and he who offered up his kingdom as a place of exile. And thus, I was branded, with this." The king's wizard passed his hand before his face, and a glowing, blue rune suddenly appeared on his forehead. "This is a [i]mark of justice[/i]," he explained. "It will trigger if I step outside the boundaries of the kingdom of Durnhill, slaying me instantly. And that is why I was unable to assist in the fight against the devil cult last week." "That seems unfair," pointed out Kaspar. "So what would you have us do in the Azure Glade?" "My house is there," Skevros explained. He passed a golden key across the table to Orion. "This is a passkey to my manor; it will not only unlock the front door but also deactivate the defenses I have in place to deter intruders." "You think they're still working, after all these years?" asked Syngaard, doubtful. "I am sure of it," replied Skevros. "The manor has a permanent [i]alarm[/i] spell cast upon it; I would know if there had been any intruders during my absence." "So we go into the house..." prompted Galen. "I have always kept an extensive journal for as long as I can remember. It's entirely possible I continued the practice while I was...evil. I would like you to find those journals, should they in fact exist. They may explain some of my missing memories. In addition, [b]Jessica[/b] and I had quite an extensive arcane library up on our second floor; I would like the tomes returned here to me. There are my original spellbooks and those of my wife, besides works on various esoteric subjects." "So, is this a paying mission?" asked Syngaard. "Of course," Skevros agreed. "I will pay you each a thousand pieces of gold for the retrieval of my library, and another thousand each if you can find and return any journals I might have kept." "Is there any place in particular we should look for the journals?" Orion asked. "They could be anywhere, I'm afraid." Skevros sketched out a quick blueprint of his manor, along with directions on how to find it. "My normal journals would be kept in the master bedroom up on the third floor; you might do best to start there." Galen looked at the rest of the team as if to see if anybody had any further questions; thus far, it seemed like a pretty straightforward task to the paladin. "One last thing," added Skevros. "Due to the recent reminder of my existence, in having Daleth petition the Council of Guilds for a temporary reprieve from my exile, there's a good chance they will be actively looking for magical interference at my manor house. As such, I regret that I cannot risk teleporting you directly there. I have, however, made arrangements for a sturdy cart, a healthy draft horse, and a competent driver to travel to the Azure Glade with you. You will likely need the cart to haul back my books, if you are successful. You will find them just outside; I heard them pull up several minutes ago." "Very well, then," agreed Galen. "We'll be on our way." "Good luck," Skevros bade his team. "I hope you are successful in helping me fill in the missing gap in my life." It was an uneventful three days of travel to the Azure Glade; the cart-driver was a taciturn fellow, skilled in the handling of his horse but not much of a conversationalist. He also, Syngaard decided, was likely unwilling to get too involved in Skevros's affairs; common folk often did best to avoid the notice of those higher above them. As for the fighter, he was more than happy to ride in the empty cart with Daleth; Kaspar chose to walk rather than further burden the draft animal. "This is the place," announced Daleth on the third day; as the conscript with the most time spent in the Azure Glade, he had been given Skevros's directions to the manor house. It was an elaborate, three-story dwelling, a bit run-down after three decades of neglect, but still rather regal in its construction. "The door's open!" hissed Orion to the others from her perch upon Carl. She dropped from her dog's saddle and crept up to the house. Galen dismounted from Seneca and did likewise. The others followed, while Syngaard hung back a bit and spoke softly into his ring. "Hey, Skevros," he said in a low voice, "I dunno if you can hear this, but somebody's already in your house." Then, not getting any response, he shook his head in irritation and hurried to join the others, morningstar in hand. Orion peeked through the door and looked inside the manor. Most of the ground floor was one big dining room, with three side doors along the right-hand wall and a set of stairs along the back. Numerous [i]everburning torches[/i] hung along the walls, still burning brightly with illusory flames after more than three decades. There were also glowing orbs of multicolored light floating above plinths along the walls of the main dining area; five of these shimmered with numerous shimmering colors, while the sixth was a constant purple. But as soon as the halfling stepped foot into the manor, the five prismatic spheres dropped from their suspension in the air and began oozing along towards the intruder. Orion didn't even notice at first, as she was examining the thick dust on the floor, in which could be seen three separate sets of human-sized footprints. So it looked like there were three intruders somewhere in the manor.... Daleth had just finished drinking his [i]potion of mage armor[/i] when he saw the multicolored blobs approaching Orion. "Look out!" he cried, giving the halfling enough notice to dodge the strike of the nearest prismatic ooze. Unfortunately, this put her well within striking range of another that had approached from the opposite direction. The slap of the ooze's touch delivered a poison into the halfling's skin; she could feel a tingling sensation where it had hit her. Galen had just cast his very first spell, [i]protection from evil[/i], when he heard Daleth shout his warning. He pulled the [i]sword of Zehkar[/i] from its scabbard and approached, senses at the ready. Syngaard caught up to the others, took in the situation, and hissed in a stage whisper, "Hey idiot! Howzabout getting back out here and closing the door behind you? And then maybe this time use that key Skevros gave you to deactivate his house's defenses!" Her face burning with embarrassment, Orion scooted back out of the house and shut the door - quietly, so as not to alert the intruders inside. The door locked with an audible "click." Orion gave Syngaard a quick scowl, hating him for being right, and then placed the golden key into the door's knob, standing on tippy-toes to reach. A soft, silvery glow briefly emanated from the key and then each of the group's iron rings. The halfling turned the key and looked inside. Each of the five prismatic oozes was returning to its plinth, crawling up it, and then being sucked into the air again to resume its free-floating spherical shape. "All clear," Orion whispered back to the group, then motioned for Carl to join her. "Are you sure you want him with you?" asked Galen. He had Seneca's reins in hand and was taking him back to the cart, to be watched over by the driver. "I assume by the glow of our rings that it's now safe for us to enter. I don't think that extends to Carl, though - he has no ring." Agreeing with the paladin's logic, she returned Carl to the driver's keep while the other conscripts entered the manor. Kaspar was the first to enter the house the second time. His keen elven eyes picked up traces of a recent battle in the dust, between the ooze defenses and the three intruders. He assumed the purple ooze had somehow been injured during the fight and was healing up. But seeing nobody on the first floor there with him, he silently opened the first of the closed doors on that level. This led to what looked to be a book-binding area, with nothing of interest but an old jar of 32-year-old congealed binding glue. The second door led to a kitchen with rusty cookware, while the third led to a pantry. Whatever had been in there 32 years ago was now unidentifiable; it was all just a mass of mold. Galen and Orion had moved to the base of the stairs and were listening intently; from the level above them, they could hear muffled voices and the sounds of something heavy being shuffled around. Being the quickest of the group, Kaspar bounded silently up the stairs and saw a figure in dark blue robes examining a skeletal body on the floor behind him. Reasoning that anybody in here was likely up to no good, the monk threw an electrified shuriken at the intruder. Unfortunately, his target bent over the skeleton as the monk let fly with his sharp weapon, and the shuriken sailed over the robed figure's head to [i]thunk[/i] in the wall across the way. Galen exploded out of the stairwell just behind Kaspar, his senses wary for the signs of evil. Surprisingly, the blue-robed figure radiated no such aura; the paladin thus decided to question him before attacking. "Who are you?" he demanded. "What are you doing in this house?" "How did you get in here?" demanded the looter. "Civilians are not allowed!" He turned his head to the right, aiming his gaze at a row of bookshelves. "Dammit, you two, didn't either of you shut the front door?" Then he returned his gaze to Galen, absently noting the symbol of Hieroneous on the paladin's armor. "Are you working for the lich Skevros?" [i]That[/i] particular question sent doubts swimming through the heads of the conscripts. Were they actually working for a lich? Galen frowned; he'd used his innate powers to [i]detect evil[/i] on Skevros and come up with nothing; was it possible that he'd had a different way to hide his alignment besides his ring? "Wh-what?" stammered Orion, coming up the steps behind Galen, followed by Syngaard and Daleth. Seeing that the group wasn't about to leave, [b]Reginald[/b] called out to his two thus-far-unseen partners, "No witnesses!" That actually brought a smile to Syngaard's scarred face. He wasn't sure if these guys were evil of not - if they were, Galen would likely have plunged directly into battle, but you could never tell for sure with these holy paladin types - but if they had orders to kill the conscripts, then it seemed eminently logical that they could killed the blue-robed looters right back. Syngaard threw his [i]javelin of returning[/i] at the blue-robed Azure Guard leader, scoring a good hit before the ranged weapon returned to his hand. Reginald cast a [i]scorching ray[/i] spell in return, missing by a wide mile. But then his other two partners stepped out from between the bookcases, each hitting the scarred fighter with a [i]magic missile[/i] spell - those never missed. "That all you got?" Syngaard roared, switching his morningstar into his right hand and advancing upon the nearest of the two newcomer Azure Guards. Daleth, a frequent visitor to the Azure Glade in recent months, had immediately recognized the blue robes as the official uniforms of the Azure Guards, the nation's police force. He noted the distinctive runes on the Guard's robes, foreheads, and weapons (they carried heavy maces seemingly too big for a wizard to be comfortable with); each denoted a teleportation effect, ready to be triggered upon the Guard's unconsciousness or death. The elven wizard decided to test out his new [i]metamagic rod[/i], channeling a [i]magic missile[/i] spell of his own at the Azure Guard facing off against Syngaard. The spell hit the foe squarely in the chest, clearly shocking him at the power behind a single such missile. He looked past Syngaard at the elf, clearly impressed - and not a little awed - at Daleth's obviously superior spellpower. Galen and Kaspar were already crowded around Reginald, so Orion moved further down the large room, towards a magic circle inscribed on the floor. There was a book with arcane writing open on the floor inside the circle; alongside it stood a charred amulet or brooch of some sort. The rogue headed that way, but still threw one of her daggers at Reginald just to keep herself in the fight. Her aim was true, eliciting a cry of pain from the leader of the Azure Guard unit. But Reginald had no time to concentrate on Orion, for he was busy trying to fend off a flurry of attacks from Kaspar, whose hands, feet, and elbows seemed to be everywhere at once. At the same time, Galen stabbed out with his magic longsword. He failed to hit, but there was too much for Reginald to fend off at once, and Kaspar's latest strike hit true. Seeing Reginald was likely soon to be down for the count, Syngaard focused his attacks on one of the lackeys who had hit him with a [i]magic missile[/i]. He got in a good swing at the Guard, expecting him to crumple at once like any other low-level wizard, but surprisingly, the foe stayed on his feet. [i]These guys are made of sterner stuff![/i] Syngaard thought, impressed despite himself. Little did he know that the Azure Guards studied weaponcraft as well as spellcraft, as evidenced by the heavy maces they used in battle when their most powerful spells were used up. Reginald targeted Galen with his second - and last - prepared [i]scorching ray[/i] spell. This time he was more successful, blasting the paladin in the chest and causing a small explosion of flame to scorch Galen's face. At the same time, the other two Guards were casting the last of their [i]magic missile[/i] spells, one hitting Syngaard and the other striking Kaspar. Daleth maneuvered around the room, lining up Reginald and one member of his crew with a [i]color spray[/i] spell. Unfortunately, both showed the necessary fortitude to overcome the spell's effects, and the elf cursed his relative inexperience in field combat. Orion by this time had decided to let "the boys" handle the scuffle with the Azure Guard and focus on the primary mission. Skevros wanted his books, and here was one with obvious magical writing on it. She worked her way around the magic circle to get closer, noticing as she did that the circle was already broken, over by the skeleton. If this had been a summoning circle, she realized, whatever had been summoned would have been able to escape. So, in theory at least, it should be safe to enter the circle.... She did so, grabbing up the tome and the blackened pendant, the latter of which looked to have been burned from the inside out. She stuffed the pendant into a pouch at her belt for later investigation. Kaspar did a swinging kick that connected solidly with Reginald's breastbone, causing him to stumble backwards, but not fast enough to avoid being pierced in the side by Galen's blade. Wounded and bleeding, Reginald realized there was a good chance he wouldn't be coming out on top during this particular fight.... Still, he had to try: calling out the words to a [i]magic missile[/i] spell, he sent one missile screaming into Galen and the other blasting into Kaspar. Syngaard got in another good strike with his morningstar, but still his foe wouldn't fall. The lackeys (as he was starting to think of them) each cast a [i]ray of frost[/i] spell, one hitting Kaspar and the other missing Syngaard. Then, as one, they came to the same conclusion and drew their heavy maces, ready to try physical combat now that they had used up their magical resources. But Daleth snuck up and touched one on the shoulder, releasing a [i]touch of fatigue[/i] spell as he did so. This spell was much more successful, as evidenced by the way the Azure Guard had to shift the weight of his weapon to keep from dropping it. Kaspar finished off Reginald with a leap and a kick to the jaw, which knocked the Azure Guard leader out cold on his feet and had him teleporting away before his body hit the ground. Galen, looking around for a new foe, found the second lackey within range and stabbed at him with his longsword, staggering him on his feet. At about the same time, Syngaard finished off the other Azure Guard with a solid strike from his morningstar; because of the way he teleported away, the bald fighter didn't know whether that last blow had just knocked him unconscious or killed him outright - not that Syngaard particularly cared. Seeing both his friends out of the fight and safely (hopefully) back at headquarters, the sole remaining lackey dropped his weapon and raised his hands. "I surrender!" he cried out. "What do you want?" "Some answers, first of all," snarled Galen, holding the [i]sword of Zehkar[/i] to the Azure Guard's neck. "What were you guys doing here?" "I--I was just doing my job!" pleaded the lackey, who looked to be all of in his late teens. "We were looking for evidence - this is a crime scene!" "Yeah, of a crime that took place 32 years ago!" answered Galen. "Why is it so important now, all of a sudden?" "I don't know!" blubbered the paladin's prisoner. "This is-- it's only my second week on the job! They don't tell me everything!" "This is pointless," murmured Galen to the others. "We're not going to get any information out of this fool." "Might as well kill him, then," offered Syngaard. "I don't know," replied Galen, thinking up a way to deflect any suspicion from Durnhill. "Serenity might want us to bring him back to Ashfall with us - she might be able to coax some info out of him." Syngaard's brow creased as he tried to figure out why Galen was claiming they were from a different kingdom, but the lackey caught on right away. "No!" he cried. "Don't feed me to the succubus!" And then, the lackey suddenly decided his best bet was to make a run for it - maybe he'd get lucky and get knocked out before the big guy in heavy armor could run him through or drag him to the mercies of a she-demon. He made a mad dash for the stairs, leaving his heavy mace behind - which vanished as soon as he was more than ten feet from it - and ran afoul of Daleth's extended foot, the elf wizard having seen his race to freedom. In a tangle of limbs, the young Azure Guard went crashing to the floor, his escape plan foiled. Daleth wrestled him into submission, but after a few more rounds of useless interrogation, Galen announced him beyond useless. A quick thump on the noggin with Kaspar's closed fist brought the lackey to oblivion, and he teleported away. While the others had been dealing with the interrogation, Orion had been focusing on the primary mission, and Syngaard, seeing it wasn't likely he was going to get to kill the prisoner, joined her just so he could keep an eye on her. Together, they found four open cloth sacks partly filled with books; the shelves of the bookcases were half emptied of the volumes they had once contained. A little experimentation revealed a marvelous feature of the bags: they held much more than was remotely possible without magic! Fortunately there were no runes on the bags, so they remained behind when the Azure Guards vanished. Orion and Syngaard finished up the job the Guards had started, putting the rest of the contents of Skevros's arcane library into the [i]bags of holding[/i]. Once the lackey had been dealt with, the others joined them in finishing up the task. After that, Orion examined the skeletal remains on the floor. Judging by what remained of the victim's decaying dress, the halfling surmised this was Jessica, Skevros's late wife. "Look--she's holding a piece of paper," Orion observed, pulling it from Jessica's skeletal grip. She turned it over both ways, but it was completely blank. Holding it up to the light proved to be of no use, either - it was just a blank sheet of paper. "Weird," Orion opined. Still, the contents of the [i]bags of holding[/i] were shuffled around to completely empty one, so Jessica's remains could be returned to Skevros. "I'm sure he'll want to bury her," Orion said to the group. "That depends," replied Syngaard. "If he really is a lich, he might just want to...wait for it..." "Waiting for it," replied Galen, willingly playing along. "...jump her bones," finished Syngaard, sneering gleefully. "You are truly disgusting!" said Orion. "All that time you spend in that brothel has warped your mind! But at least you recognize that no woman would ever want you unless you paid them--at probably double the normal rate!" Syngaard said nothing; he knew the truth of the matter and it was none of the damned halfling's business anyway. But he was pleased that he had gotten a rise out of her. "That bag's yours, by the way," pointed out Syngaard. He wasn't particularly superstitious but he didn't want any magic bag that had held a dead chick's remains in it! "The question must be asked," remarked Daleth. "Do we believe what that Guard said? Is Skevros a lich?" "No," answered Kaspar immediately. "He didn't detect as evil," pointed out Galen. "That don't mean nothing," argued Syngaard. "Smart guy like him, I bet he has some magic way to get around that." "He can't be a lich," reasoned Kaspar. "A lich's touch causes paralysis, even to those of my kind. I doubt he could overcome such an obstacle." "But..." thought Daleth aloud, "...has he actually ever touched any of us?" That got everybody thinking back, until Orion snapped her fingers. "When he teleports us!" she cried. "We all have to be in contact with one another!" "Good!" agreed Galen. "Then he's not a lich!" That was a relief to the young paladin - bad enough to have to work for a succubus now and again, but to be working directly for a lich...? "I dunno..." argued Syngaard. "That's nothing new," quipped Orion. "Okay, let's go," said Galen, eager to be back on the road. "I believe you are forgetting something - there's still a floor above us, and we have yet to find Skevros's journal," reminded Kaspar. "Oh - good call," admitted Galen. "Yeah, and that's another thousand each if we find it!" enthused Syngaard, racing up the stairs to the top level of the manor. There were four more prismatic oozes floating peacefully above their plinths, but the iron rings still made the conscripts read as "invited guests" instead of "intruders" to the magical defense system. Orion, having memorized the map Skevros had made of his manor, led the group directly to the master bedroom. She headed directly for one of the nightstands, finding its drawer locked. "Not to worry - I've got a lockpick," she informed the group. "Yeah," replied Syngaard, hefting his morningstar, "so do I." But the group wouldn't let him open the drawer his way; instead, Orion fumbled around with her lockpicking tools, getting more irritated when the lock refused to budge. "Hey, here's an idea," suggested Syngaard. "You ever think about using the key?" "There is no key, you dolt!" replied Orion. "Sure there is - that gold one Skevros gave you." Orion glared at him with irritation; the dumb lug obviously thought the same key that opened the wizard's door would open his nightstand? Just to show him how stupid his idea was, she popped the key into the lock...and it opened right up. "That...shouldn't have worked," she stammered. "Wizards," scoffed Syngaard, managing to fill the single word with as much dripping condescension as he could. Daleth glared at him but said nothing. "What's in there?" asked Kaspar, trying to get the group back on track. Orion pulled out a black leather book with the name "Skevros" embossed upon the spine. Slightly wigged out, she passed it over to Daleth for examination. "You're a wizard," she explained. But despite Daleth's best efforts, the book refused to open. It didn't seem to have any locking mechanism; it was just fused closed. "Check the other nightstand," Galen suggested. This one was unlocked and it held another leather-bound book, this one inscribed, "[b]Jessica Wrencroftt[/b]." There was a ribbon hanging out of it, and unlike her husband's, this one opened easily. It was a diary; the ribbon held the place of the last entry. Orion read aloud to the rest of the group:"That doesn't sound good," said Galen. "It explains the blank piece of paper we found in her hands," observed Orion. "It was the scroll she had to use to stop him." "Stop him how? And from what?" demanded Daleth. "Turning into a lich?" reasoned Syngaard. "And how, pray tell, does one stop someone from becoming a lich?" demanded Daleth. "Who knows? By crossing your fingers and wishing really hard?" "Hmmm," murmured the elf wizard. "I hate to say it, but he might be on to something. A [i]wish[/i] spell on a scroll...that might have worked." "Wait, what?" demanded Syngaard. "They have [i]wish[/i] spells on scrolls? Can you buy them?" "Not likely," explained Daleth. "First of all, the [i]wish[/i] spell is one of the most powerful spells in existence. It basically allows the caster to reshape the universe as he sees fit. Only the most learned spellcasters can master the spell. Anyone else attempting it - like poor Jessica here - would be taking a terrible chance. The universe doesn't like being randomly reshaped, and can take a terrible toll on anyone trying to use it without the proper training." Syngaard was hanging on the elf's every word, taking it all in - a rather odd interest for a man who usually preferred whacking enemies with a morningstar than engaging in esoteric discussions about spell effects. "Guys," interrupted Orion. "I found something!" There was a false bottom in Jessica's nightstand drawer, revealing an extradimensional space within which lay a third tome, this one severely burned. It appeared to be another of Skevros's journals - perhaps from before his fall to evil. It opened easily, but most of the entries within were too singed to be readable. Deciding to be thorough, Orion investigated another room on the top floor, this one apparently a nonmagical library, while Daleth headed over to the last room. The faded pink walls and child-drawn pictures scattered on the floor told Daleth this must have been little Sarah's room. The elf was startled when a voice from the bed called out, "Hugs?" Looking in that direction, Daleth saw a porcelain doll laying upon the bed sit up and leap onto the floor. Holding out its arms, it headed toward the startled elf, who raced out of the room and slammed the door behind him. While the rest of the group was tossing books into the [i]bags of holding[/i], Orion headed over to Daleth to see what was wrong. Opening the door to Sarah's room, the halfling was shocked and horrified as the foot-tall doll leaped up and latched onto her. "Sawah pway wiff me?" it asked plaintively. After Orion's frantic cries of "Get it off me! Get it off me!" the doll eventually let the halfling go from its hug. "What the Hell is that thing?" demanded Orion, her face white. "No doubt an animated plaything for Sarah," surmised Kaspar. "Wizards," scoffed Syngaard again. Then, sensing an opportunity, he turned to Orion and said, "Kinda creepy, ain't it? Some half-sized thing that looks sorta like you, but you know deep down shouldn't even exist. Well, now you know how I feel." "I suppose we should take it back with us, to Skevros," suggested Galen. "He may well want it." "Well, I ain't sticking it in my bag," said Syngaard. "Damn thing's kind of spooky." During the three-day trek back to Durnhill, Daleth cast multiple [i]mending[/i] spells on the burned journal. Near the end there was an obvious shift in tone, likely when Skevros's alignment shifted to evil. The final entry said he planned to burn "this horrific display of goody nonsense." There was a heated debate among the conscripts on whether to outright ask Skevros if he was a lich, for there was still some doubt about the matter. By the time they arrived home, they had decided they might as well; Galen was chosen to be their spokesman. They headed straight for the [i]Enchanted Flagon[/i] upon hitting the city, and not surprisingly, Skevros was there waiting for them, no doubt having scried upon their progress from time to time. The group gave Skevros all three journals and his spellbooks. "We're not sure how to get that one open," admitted Galen. Frowning, Skevros picked up the journal in question, and it opened right up at his touch. "Wizards," scoffed Syngaard. Skevros had opened the journal to its last page and visibly blanched at what he saw as he read the final entry. "Apparently, the last thing I was preparing to do while evil," he said, "was become a lich." That was Galen's cue. "Sir," he asked, "are you a lich?" "I...must admit to being unsure," Skevros admitted. "I don't [i]feel[/i] like a lich. I have a pulse, I breathe...and yet I have not aged since being exiled, 32 years hence. And..." he trailed off, hesitant to admit the next bit. Still, these people had done their best for him; they deserved to know the truth. "...Healing energy has the opposite effect upon me." "You are harmed by healing energy?" gasped Galen. "Then it's true! You are...undead." "I'm afraid that's a distinct possibility," admitted the king's adviser. Then, turning to Orion, he asked, "Do you have the pendant?" "That depends," the halfling said. "What do you intend to do with it?" During their trek home, Daleth had filled them all in on what he knew about liches - including their dependency on phylacteries to hold their undead life-force. "I still have a vat of osteovox," Skevros reminded them. "We can perform a ritual to hopefully learn some of the object's background. In fact, I will step back and allow you to perform the ritual without my involvement, considering my...possible untrustworthiness." Galen wrote a question - "Are you the phylactery of the lich Skevros?" - on a blank piece of parchment which they wrapped around the pendant and dipped into the osteovox. After waiting the allotted time, they pulled the burned pendant out of the vat to find the cryptic answer. "What's it say?" demanded Orion. Galen read the response written on the strip of parchment."Then it's true," gasped Skevros, sinking into a chair. "I...I am a lich." "How is that even possible?" demanded Galen. "As you said: you breathe, you don't cause paralysis with your touch." Piecing together the information from Jessica's journal and the evidence the party gathered, Skevros determined the scroll Jessica used most likely contained a [i]wish[/i] spell; knowing she was nowhere nearly powerful enough to channel such energies on her own, the spell cost her her life in order to grant her wish to undo the effects of Skevros's alignment change. Doing so during the ritual to become a lich caused his soul to recoil in horror and reattach itself to his body, sealing him halfway between life and undeath, potentially stumbling upon the secret to eternal life. "I will have to study my 'evil' journal in detail," remarked Skevros, "but judging by the treatment by both the Council of Guilds and now by the Azure Guard itself, I am beginning to suspect I might not have actually done anything to deserve my exile other than being what the Council of Guilds thought was a convenient scapegoat. The fact that they wanted no witnesses to their trespass into my home tells me there is something they wish to remain covered up. It will be our job to find out just what that may be." "Um, one last thing," added Galen. "What do you want to do with...that?" He pointed to one of the [i]bags of holding[/i], from which was climbing the animated porcelain doll. Skevros frowned in puzzlement. "Strange," he remarked. "Even at this range, I feel...nothing." "I feel something: creeped out by that freaky-ass doll," remarked Syngaard. "This was my familiar," Skevros volunteered. "I haven't felt the connection between wizard and familiar since I woke up standing over Jessica's body, but I had assumed I must have destroyed it during my eight months of evil blackout. I made it as a playmate for Sarah, as a present on her third birthday, so I'd always be able to keep an eye on her, even when I was busy with my magical research." "That's so sweet," replied Orion. "What's her name?" "Sarah just called her '[b]Dow[/b]'," replied Skevros. "It was as close as she could get to saying the word, 'doll.'" "That's so sweet," repeated Orion. "That's just creepy as Hell," rebutted Syngaard. - - - This was a cool back-story for Skevros! I'm really proud of what Logan's done with this campaign, in little 2-hour (or thereabouts) segments! He had Vicki heartbroken over Skevros's tragic history, and the rest of us all amazed at the concept of a living lich. But we all pretty much agreed that "Dow" was kind of creepy (the image Logan used for her was a manga/anime-style porcelain doll face with too-big eyes); after the session, it was pointed out that Dow (a homunculus) was available to Daleth, who has yet to summon a familiar. (He's waiting for the Improved Familiar feat.) Joey's response was an immediate, no-thought-necessary: "No, I'm good." Both Daleth and Orion managed to level up after this adventure. [/QUOTE]
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