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<blockquote data-quote="the Jester" data-source="post: 4604531" data-attributes="member: 1210"><p><strong>Into Xvaangensleff!</strong></p><p></p><p>After leaving the Twists of Zelcair behind (albeit never knowing what a gnome-strewn mess they almost strayed into), the party continues along. However, they are confronted by a mystery.</p><p></p><p>Two of the goblin slaves have been murdered. </p><p></p><p>“Well, it’s no great loss,” reasons Nowhere Jones. “They’re just goblins.”</p><p></p><p>“But we might need them to get through the xvart city,” Sta’Ligir hisses in frustration. “And the last thing we need is a murderer among us!”</p><p></p><p>“It’s not murder if they’re goblins,” Jones maintains stubbornly.</p><p></p><p>Nixie only shrugs. “Who cares? Let’s just get out of this underground hole.”</p><p></p><p>“Remember,” Torinn points out, “we only have so much food, and we can’t just starve them.”</p><p></p><p>Vann-La nods. “Half rations for them, then. They won’t starve- but it will help keep them too weak to try anything.”</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>Deeper under the mountain the group goes, the steadily-plodding wagon moving slowly but able to navigate most terrain obstacles that they come into. Finally, after three days, the long, narrow passageway that they have been following for what feels like forever opens up in a highly reflective, chilly cave lined with ice.</p><p></p><p>The Crystal Gallery. </p><p></p><p>As they move through the Gallery, they pass along a long corridor where vague shapes seem trapped deep within the ice. Peering at them, Vann-La thinks that at least some of the forms are humanoid. She shudders, imagining a slow, freezing death, trapped in a block of ice. Large crystalline “flowers” of ice dot the floor, sharp and jagged as caltrops. Areas of the floor are raised or lowered from the main level of the path.</p><p></p><p>Uneasily, the party continues along. The dark forms in the ice hang immobile, but everyone is very nervous about them. Some of the rises and ice flower fields look dangerous to the wagon, so Sta’Ligir decides to use a series of <em>scorching bursts</em> to melt a clear path. However, after the first one, the sound of cracking ice resonates all around, and some chunks of ice and water slough from the ceiling. </p><p></p><p>“Hmm,” muses Sta’Ligir, “not much structural integrity...”</p><p></p><p>“Oi, I got a bad feeling about this,” Cook mutters.</p><p></p><p>“I got a bad feeling about that chili you made,” retorts Iggy. “But I think we’d best avoid any further fire in the ice cave.”</p><p></p><p>Carefully, the group picks its way forward. The beetle hauling the wagon seems confused by the ice flowers, but gradually feels its way around them. The tension is high, and the dark figures still loom on either side, but gradually, the party proceeds towards Xvaangensleff. </p><p></p><p>“Wait!” says the cook suddenly. “Look! Listen!”</p><p></p><p>There is a low sound, like ice cracking from within. Our heroes stare, aghast, as the walls of ice surrounding them begin to show the cracks that they can hear. </p><p></p><p>And in an explosion of frosty shards, the dead burst from the wall.</p><p></p><p>Rimed with ice, the bones of almost a dozen humanoids tear their way free and begin to lurch towards the party. For a moment, everyone stares rigidly and slack-jawed at the undead forms coming through.</p><p></p><p>Then they spring into action.</p><p></p><p>Sta’Ligir bites back the words to his <em>scorching burst</em> spell, and instead begins casting <em>magic missiles</em> about. Torinn whips his spiked chain around him, smashing into undead form after undead form as he seeks the middle of their group. One of them describes a long, shallow cut on his arm. Heimall, seemingly intimidated by the skeletons breaking free of their icy prisons, retreats, hands shaking on the haft of his glaive. It slips in his grip, and he cannot seem to launch an effective attack. Gritting his teeth, he firms up his grip and tries again, this time smashing a skeleton’s skull in and knocking the unliving horror to the ground. Kratos charges in, missing, while Vann-La lays about her with sweeping blows, keeping her foes from effectively attacking her allies. Nowhere Jones and the party’s dwarven cook lay about them with daggers and frying pan, striking down skeletons with lethal skill. </p><p></p><p>Then Torinn raises one hand high, his symbol of Lester clutched in his fist, and turns undead. </p><p></p><p>There is an explosion of holy energy. Radiance bursts out, emanating from the symbol and from Torinn himself, and all around him, skeletons are blasted apart. Those that survive are transfixed, and Kratos, Nowhere Jones and Vann-La quickly finish them off.</p><p></p><p>Just in time, for the sound of tittering laughter comes to our heroes. Two more forms- small humanoids made of ice, with large noses and cruel expressions, are coming down towards the party. They chatter in strange, tinkling voices. They stop some distance from our heroes, making little taunting noises and obscene gestures at them.</p><p></p><p>“Screw these guys,” Kratos growls. The party begins to move up, but as they get within about 30’, the ice creatures create fields of snow before them, making it difficult to advance. Torinn almost loses his footing as he moves across it. Vann-La raises her shield just in time as the two things breathe little blasts of frost at her. Sta’Ligir frowns, hanging back behind the snow packs, and keeps blasting at the creatures with <em>magic missiles.</em></p><p></p><p>“What are these things?” wonders Nowhere Jones.</p><p></p><p>“They’re mephits!” Torinn replies. “I’ve read about them in the Chronicles of Lester! They’re elemental creatures, but not very powerful ones.”</p><p></p><p>“Not for long,” Vann-La snarls. She leaps forward off the patch of powdery, impeding snow, and swings her hammer with telling force, annihilating the lower part of the first mephit’s head. It collapses in a pile of jaggedly-broken ice.</p><p></p><p>The other mephit squeals in fear. It starts to back away, but Heimall charges, his glaive crashing into the frozen chest of the ice mephit. The creature’s torso explodes like an ice cube thrown against a wall. </p><p></p><p>Our heroes check themselves. Though they have a few bruises and cuts, they are in pretty good shape. They take a few minutes to catch their breaths and search, and they find that one of the skeletons wears a suit of chain mail that is in good shape. They take it as spoils and move on. </p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>The far side of the Crystal Gallery is only a few minutes from the scene of their most recent battle. It ends at a narrow stairway that descends. Their wagon will fit, but only just. They proceed cautiously, descending for several hundred stairs before they spill out on a wide ledge on the edge of a huge cavern.</p><p></p><p>A small amount of illumination reaches them from innumerable patches of phosphorescent fungi scattered about. More light comes from the city itself. The cave is immense enough to hold the entire city of Xvaangensleff- and more. It is literally miles across. The party is on what they first take for a ledge, but slowly realize is actually a terrace. The entire near side of the cavern has been shaped to cultivate immense fields of edible fungi. Near the party is a milling herd of shaggy, bison-like creatures that are called rothe (at least, that’s what Cook calls them). There are about six more terraces before the bottom of the cavern, but a section of the wall has been converted to a road leading into the city. Near the top of the far side is a cavernous exit- heading upwards still. </p><p></p><p>The city- it is <em>huge.</em> There must be a couple of thousand inhabitants.</p><p></p><p>Our heroes stare at the walled Underdark city in wonder for a few minutes before getting down to business. The far side of the cave is a long, shallow slope heading back up, and the city adorns it like a skirt.</p><p></p><p>“Before we go in there, we need to have our story straight,” Vann-La says firmly. </p><p></p><p>The others nod, and the party starts to put their tale together. Remembering what they were told by the Hammersell dwarves that they met, they know that they must appear tough and ruthless if they do not wish to be hassled. They decide to pose as slavers, selling the goblins, and to simply pass through the city. Again, an argument breaks out over the merits of selling the goblins into slavery, but it ends inconclusively. They touch up the dragon parts on the wagon, re-mounting the head and wings so that they look as fearsome as possible, and then they head in.</p><p></p><p>A cluster of squalor is around the exterior of the city walls. A collection of all kinds of creatures of the Underdark, including gnomes, goblinoids, dwarves, kobolds, orcs and, of course, the blue-skinned xvarts swarm throughout the slum, transacting business and performing nefarious acts upon one another in a desperate struggle to crawl their stations in life into the city proper. As the party passes through the slum, they can see many different businesses being run. Everything from slave gear (though not slaves, at least as far as our heroes see) to excavation tools to beetles is available. They hurry past, wanting very badly to get out of this place as quickly as possible. </p><p></p><p>Entry into Xvaangensleff itself is through a large purple gate. At the gate, they join a line of creatures entering the city. </p><p></p><p>“They’re paying to get in,” Nixie says. “I hope it’s not too much...”</p><p></p><p>When they get to the front of the line, a foul-tempered cluster of xvarts at the gate house demands their business.</p><p></p><p>“We’re here to sell these goblin slaves,” says Kratos. “And maybe buy some other slaves.”</p><p></p><p>“Very well. Bring your slaves forth.”</p><p></p><p>The party is assessed an entry tax of 1 gold piece per free individual and 1 silver per slave. The slaves are then tagged with a locking, non-removable earring. The xvarts explain that this helps to make slaves easily identifiable and to help prevent fraud as to who is a slave and who is not for the purpose of various fees and tariffs. Furthermore, the party is informed that <em>leaving</em> the city costs 1 gold piece per free individual and <em>five gold pieces</em> per slave. This, they surmise, is how the xvart city ensures that it gets its cut of the slave traffic.</p><p></p><p>They enter Xvaangensleff through the wide stone gate. On the other side they find a street some 15’ wide, crowded on either side with buildings. Many xvarts are walking about on it, and most of them are attended by one or more goblin or kobold slaves. As the party’s wagon rolls in, many of the passersby stare at them. Obviously, almost everyone in here is either a xvart or a slave, and the party is a most unusual collection of individuals for this place. They see a few other non-xvart creatures- a dwarf, a pair of hobgoblins, a duergar- walking freely as well; they, too, have slaves. Along the sides of the roads are period hitching posts; a few of these have slaves chained to them, presumably while their masters conduct business within one of the buildings. Refuse is scattered everywhere, but thickest along the edges of the road. The place stinks of piss and smoke.</p><p></p><p>The buildings near the gate seem to be predominantly businesses. Our heroes spy an inn, whose sign seems to be some kind of drunken mushroom; a place that plainly sells weaponry and armor next to it; an open-air business that seems to specialize in branding slaves and property; a blacksmith- a hobgoblin, by the looks of him- whose shop is hung with manacles and chains; and many more. The street seems to open into a plaza further down, crowded with xvarts. </p><p> </p><p>The city slopes gradually up ahead, and many areas are lit, so the party can see a great distance. There is a large palace in the densest section of the city, splendid with light and crawling with xvarts. A great monument- a statue of a xvart some 50’ high- is in another section of the city; it looks like the head is being renovated. </p><p></p><p>The party moves along the streets as quickly as their beetle allows. Vann-La glares around, kicking garbage aside from her path, hand constantly on her hammer. Kratos listens intently; he has already begun to pick up the Xvart tongue, and he’s trying to learn more as he goes. Groups of xvarts stare at the party, assessing them; when they come to the dragon head mounted atop the wagon, most of them quickly lose interest. </p><p></p><p>The party moves into the city’s central plaza. It is obviously a slave market, and several stages are currently hosting slave auctions.</p><p></p><p>Vann-La stops suddenly, her eyes widening.</p><p></p><p>There is an <em>elf</em> in one of those cages.</p><p></p><p>He sees her, and the rest of the party, and reaches an arm out through the cage he is caught in. “Please,” he cries, “you have to help me!”</p><p></p><p>Vann-La is speechless. The others hear the elf and turn, spotting him as well.</p><p></p><p>“Please- I have information vital to the Empire. Free me!!”</p><p></p><p><em><strong>Next Time:</strong></em> Can our heroes free the elf? Will they escape Xvaangensleff? Find out- next time!</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="the Jester, post: 4604531, member: 1210"] [b]Into Xvaangensleff![/b] After leaving the Twists of Zelcair behind (albeit never knowing what a gnome-strewn mess they almost strayed into), the party continues along. However, they are confronted by a mystery. Two of the goblin slaves have been murdered. “Well, it’s no great loss,” reasons Nowhere Jones. “They’re just goblins.” “But we might need them to get through the xvart city,” Sta’Ligir hisses in frustration. “And the last thing we need is a murderer among us!” “It’s not murder if they’re goblins,” Jones maintains stubbornly. Nixie only shrugs. “Who cares? Let’s just get out of this underground hole.” “Remember,” Torinn points out, “we only have so much food, and we can’t just starve them.” Vann-La nods. “Half rations for them, then. They won’t starve- but it will help keep them too weak to try anything.” *** Deeper under the mountain the group goes, the steadily-plodding wagon moving slowly but able to navigate most terrain obstacles that they come into. Finally, after three days, the long, narrow passageway that they have been following for what feels like forever opens up in a highly reflective, chilly cave lined with ice. The Crystal Gallery. As they move through the Gallery, they pass along a long corridor where vague shapes seem trapped deep within the ice. Peering at them, Vann-La thinks that at least some of the forms are humanoid. She shudders, imagining a slow, freezing death, trapped in a block of ice. Large crystalline “flowers” of ice dot the floor, sharp and jagged as caltrops. Areas of the floor are raised or lowered from the main level of the path. Uneasily, the party continues along. The dark forms in the ice hang immobile, but everyone is very nervous about them. Some of the rises and ice flower fields look dangerous to the wagon, so Sta’Ligir decides to use a series of [i]scorching bursts[/i] to melt a clear path. However, after the first one, the sound of cracking ice resonates all around, and some chunks of ice and water slough from the ceiling. “Hmm,” muses Sta’Ligir, “not much structural integrity...” “Oi, I got a bad feeling about this,” Cook mutters. “I got a bad feeling about that chili you made,” retorts Iggy. “But I think we’d best avoid any further fire in the ice cave.” Carefully, the group picks its way forward. The beetle hauling the wagon seems confused by the ice flowers, but gradually feels its way around them. The tension is high, and the dark figures still loom on either side, but gradually, the party proceeds towards Xvaangensleff. “Wait!” says the cook suddenly. “Look! Listen!” There is a low sound, like ice cracking from within. Our heroes stare, aghast, as the walls of ice surrounding them begin to show the cracks that they can hear. And in an explosion of frosty shards, the dead burst from the wall. Rimed with ice, the bones of almost a dozen humanoids tear their way free and begin to lurch towards the party. For a moment, everyone stares rigidly and slack-jawed at the undead forms coming through. Then they spring into action. Sta’Ligir bites back the words to his [i]scorching burst[/i] spell, and instead begins casting [i]magic missiles[/i] about. Torinn whips his spiked chain around him, smashing into undead form after undead form as he seeks the middle of their group. One of them describes a long, shallow cut on his arm. Heimall, seemingly intimidated by the skeletons breaking free of their icy prisons, retreats, hands shaking on the haft of his glaive. It slips in his grip, and he cannot seem to launch an effective attack. Gritting his teeth, he firms up his grip and tries again, this time smashing a skeleton’s skull in and knocking the unliving horror to the ground. Kratos charges in, missing, while Vann-La lays about her with sweeping blows, keeping her foes from effectively attacking her allies. Nowhere Jones and the party’s dwarven cook lay about them with daggers and frying pan, striking down skeletons with lethal skill. Then Torinn raises one hand high, his symbol of Lester clutched in his fist, and turns undead. There is an explosion of holy energy. Radiance bursts out, emanating from the symbol and from Torinn himself, and all around him, skeletons are blasted apart. Those that survive are transfixed, and Kratos, Nowhere Jones and Vann-La quickly finish them off. Just in time, for the sound of tittering laughter comes to our heroes. Two more forms- small humanoids made of ice, with large noses and cruel expressions, are coming down towards the party. They chatter in strange, tinkling voices. They stop some distance from our heroes, making little taunting noises and obscene gestures at them. “Screw these guys,” Kratos growls. The party begins to move up, but as they get within about 30’, the ice creatures create fields of snow before them, making it difficult to advance. Torinn almost loses his footing as he moves across it. Vann-La raises her shield just in time as the two things breathe little blasts of frost at her. Sta’Ligir frowns, hanging back behind the snow packs, and keeps blasting at the creatures with [i]magic missiles.[/i] “What are these things?” wonders Nowhere Jones. “They’re mephits!” Torinn replies. “I’ve read about them in the Chronicles of Lester! They’re elemental creatures, but not very powerful ones.” “Not for long,” Vann-La snarls. She leaps forward off the patch of powdery, impeding snow, and swings her hammer with telling force, annihilating the lower part of the first mephit’s head. It collapses in a pile of jaggedly-broken ice. The other mephit squeals in fear. It starts to back away, but Heimall charges, his glaive crashing into the frozen chest of the ice mephit. The creature’s torso explodes like an ice cube thrown against a wall. Our heroes check themselves. Though they have a few bruises and cuts, they are in pretty good shape. They take a few minutes to catch their breaths and search, and they find that one of the skeletons wears a suit of chain mail that is in good shape. They take it as spoils and move on. *** The far side of the Crystal Gallery is only a few minutes from the scene of their most recent battle. It ends at a narrow stairway that descends. Their wagon will fit, but only just. They proceed cautiously, descending for several hundred stairs before they spill out on a wide ledge on the edge of a huge cavern. A small amount of illumination reaches them from innumerable patches of phosphorescent fungi scattered about. More light comes from the city itself. The cave is immense enough to hold the entire city of Xvaangensleff- and more. It is literally miles across. The party is on what they first take for a ledge, but slowly realize is actually a terrace. The entire near side of the cavern has been shaped to cultivate immense fields of edible fungi. Near the party is a milling herd of shaggy, bison-like creatures that are called rothe (at least, that’s what Cook calls them). There are about six more terraces before the bottom of the cavern, but a section of the wall has been converted to a road leading into the city. Near the top of the far side is a cavernous exit- heading upwards still. The city- it is [i]huge.[/i] There must be a couple of thousand inhabitants. Our heroes stare at the walled Underdark city in wonder for a few minutes before getting down to business. The far side of the cave is a long, shallow slope heading back up, and the city adorns it like a skirt. “Before we go in there, we need to have our story straight,” Vann-La says firmly. The others nod, and the party starts to put their tale together. Remembering what they were told by the Hammersell dwarves that they met, they know that they must appear tough and ruthless if they do not wish to be hassled. They decide to pose as slavers, selling the goblins, and to simply pass through the city. Again, an argument breaks out over the merits of selling the goblins into slavery, but it ends inconclusively. They touch up the dragon parts on the wagon, re-mounting the head and wings so that they look as fearsome as possible, and then they head in. A cluster of squalor is around the exterior of the city walls. A collection of all kinds of creatures of the Underdark, including gnomes, goblinoids, dwarves, kobolds, orcs and, of course, the blue-skinned xvarts swarm throughout the slum, transacting business and performing nefarious acts upon one another in a desperate struggle to crawl their stations in life into the city proper. As the party passes through the slum, they can see many different businesses being run. Everything from slave gear (though not slaves, at least as far as our heroes see) to excavation tools to beetles is available. They hurry past, wanting very badly to get out of this place as quickly as possible. Entry into Xvaangensleff itself is through a large purple gate. At the gate, they join a line of creatures entering the city. “They’re paying to get in,” Nixie says. “I hope it’s not too much...” When they get to the front of the line, a foul-tempered cluster of xvarts at the gate house demands their business. “We’re here to sell these goblin slaves,” says Kratos. “And maybe buy some other slaves.” “Very well. Bring your slaves forth.” The party is assessed an entry tax of 1 gold piece per free individual and 1 silver per slave. The slaves are then tagged with a locking, non-removable earring. The xvarts explain that this helps to make slaves easily identifiable and to help prevent fraud as to who is a slave and who is not for the purpose of various fees and tariffs. Furthermore, the party is informed that [i]leaving[/i] the city costs 1 gold piece per free individual and [i]five gold pieces[/i] per slave. This, they surmise, is how the xvart city ensures that it gets its cut of the slave traffic. They enter Xvaangensleff through the wide stone gate. On the other side they find a street some 15’ wide, crowded on either side with buildings. Many xvarts are walking about on it, and most of them are attended by one or more goblin or kobold slaves. As the party’s wagon rolls in, many of the passersby stare at them. Obviously, almost everyone in here is either a xvart or a slave, and the party is a most unusual collection of individuals for this place. They see a few other non-xvart creatures- a dwarf, a pair of hobgoblins, a duergar- walking freely as well; they, too, have slaves. Along the sides of the roads are period hitching posts; a few of these have slaves chained to them, presumably while their masters conduct business within one of the buildings. Refuse is scattered everywhere, but thickest along the edges of the road. The place stinks of piss and smoke. The buildings near the gate seem to be predominantly businesses. Our heroes spy an inn, whose sign seems to be some kind of drunken mushroom; a place that plainly sells weaponry and armor next to it; an open-air business that seems to specialize in branding slaves and property; a blacksmith- a hobgoblin, by the looks of him- whose shop is hung with manacles and chains; and many more. The street seems to open into a plaza further down, crowded with xvarts. The city slopes gradually up ahead, and many areas are lit, so the party can see a great distance. There is a large palace in the densest section of the city, splendid with light and crawling with xvarts. A great monument- a statue of a xvart some 50’ high- is in another section of the city; it looks like the head is being renovated. The party moves along the streets as quickly as their beetle allows. Vann-La glares around, kicking garbage aside from her path, hand constantly on her hammer. Kratos listens intently; he has already begun to pick up the Xvart tongue, and he’s trying to learn more as he goes. Groups of xvarts stare at the party, assessing them; when they come to the dragon head mounted atop the wagon, most of them quickly lose interest. The party moves into the city’s central plaza. It is obviously a slave market, and several stages are currently hosting slave auctions. Vann-La stops suddenly, her eyes widening. There is an [i]elf[/i] in one of those cages. He sees her, and the rest of the party, and reaches an arm out through the cage he is caught in. “Please,” he cries, “you have to help me!” Vann-La is speechless. The others hear the elf and turn, spotting him as well. “Please- I have information vital to the Empire. Free me!!” [i][b]Next Time:[/b][/i][b][/b] Can our heroes free the elf? Will they escape Xvaangensleff? Find out- next time! [/QUOTE]
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