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Story Hour
The Fall of Civilization
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<blockquote data-quote="the Jester" data-source="post: 5001594" data-attributes="member: 1210"><p>You will certainly get more of a picture of the <em>Silver Rose of Garnet</em> over time. It's the first artifact that I used in 4e (although not the last!).</p><p></p><p>That said, here's another update.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p></p><p>“Dawn. That name again- what does it mean? What does it mean to <em>us?</em> And more importantly, what does it have to do with Arawn and the Six-Fingered Hand?”</p><p></p><p><em>You know of her?</em></p><p></p><p>“Yes. We heard her mentioned by a... by an oracle, I guess. In the Feywild.”</p><p></p><p><em>She is a wonderful person.</em></p><p></p><p>“She’s still alive?” </p><p></p><p><em>I have no idea, actually. My sense of the passage of time is not very good.</em></p><p></p><p>“And she dated a death knight?”</p><p></p><p><em>What?</em></p><p></p><p>“Arawn- he is a death knight.”</p><p></p><p>A long pause, and then the <em>Silver Rose of Garnet</em> speaks again, a whisper in Torinn’s mind that only he can hear.</p><p></p><p><em>Oh dear. No, he was a man when I traveled with Dawn. They loved each other so much. I fear that something terrible has happened to him. Are you sure?</em></p><p></p><p>“He is the leader of our enemies, the Six-Fingered Hand. Do you know of them?”</p><p></p><p><em>No.</em></p><p></p><p>Torinn sighs and opens his eyes. “It is definitely talking to me,” he reports. “It sounds like it knew Arawn before he was a death knight.”</p><p></p><p>“Oi, how long ago was that?” asks Cook.</p><p></p><p>The dragonborn shrugs. “I don’t know. It doesn’t seem to track time very well.” He takes a deep breath and speaks inwardly again. “What can you tell us about him?”</p><p></p><p><em>Little. She met him not too long before I moved on from her possession. He was a strong, good man; he made her very happy. They were very much in love.</em></p><p></p><p>“Maybe,” Torinn says aloud, “whatever happened to Dawn is what drove Arawn to become a death knight. The <em>Rose</em> says that he was a good man, at least when they met.”</p><p></p><p>“I thought that the dragon said that Dawn betrayed someone,” Hkatha interjects. “Right? Something about elven sisters betraying too many people or something?”</p><p></p><p><em>Dawn was a human,</em> the <em>Silver Rose</em> tells Torinn.</p><p></p><p>“Dawn was a human,” the cleric relays to the others.</p><p></p><p>“Then who are the elven sisters?” wonders Vann-La. </p><p></p><p>“Maybe they betrayed Dawn and Arawn,” suggests Cook. </p><p></p><p>“Well, the <em>Rose</em> doesn’t know.”</p><p></p><p>“It doesn’t really matter,” Vann-La states. “It doesn’t change the fact that we need to destroy Arawn and his damned Six-Fingered Hand or civilization will perish.”</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p><em>What are they doing?</em> </p><p></p><p><em>Standing around talking,</em> the shorter gnome signs back. They are communicating using a complex language of gestures and silent body language, one that makes no noise whatsoever. This is a vital skill to have developed over the years of Hand despoilment. <em>Now they are moving towards the lich’s tower again.</em></p><p></p><p><em>The </em>Rose<em> is in the right hands, at least.</em> The silver rose holy symbol clasping his cloak is clearly an emulation of the one in Torinn’s possession, beautifully crafted yet unequal to the real thing. </p><p></p><p>Silently, the pair of gnomes moves through the hidden underways of the city, cutting straight through the series of long winding streets through which our heroes tread. They reach a good vantage point from which they can gaze upon Krezjarl’s Tower unseen.</p><p></p><p><em>I hope they succeed,</em> the shorter gnome signs. </p><p></p><p><em>Yes. Dawn’s goodness is an example to all of us who serve Garnet. I have no doubt that she would be elevated into a Saint, if only her spirit were resting.</em></p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>The tower is square, squat, wide, four storeys high. A window on the top level is shuttered closed. The door into the tower is bound with wide bands of bronze and graven with threatening-looking glyphs and characters. A large, heavy knocker of brass is in the center of it. About 25’ up the side of the tower, multiple vents in each wall allow strange puffs of orange smoke to escape. </p><p></p><p>“What’s up with that door?” wonders Heimall.</p><p></p><p>Hkatha examines the arcane glyphs graven around the door. “It is basically the magical equivalent of a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign. I don’t think they actually do anything- I think they are just here to look threatening. It looks like whoever placed them was probably a necromancer.”</p><p></p><p>“Good!” Shakgar declares. “Something to kill!”</p><p></p><p>“Maybe, maybe not,” Heimall says. “He could just be here, hurting nobody, minding his own business.”</p><p></p><p>Shakgar just snorts. </p><p></p><p>Torinn knocks on the door. “Hello!” he calls. “Is anybody home?”</p><p></p><p>The door opens, and the heroes are looking into a large, square room with several human corpses hanging from hooks on the back wall. A trio of scrawny-looking creatures, grotesquely sewn together from the body parts of many others, stands in the room, a seeping chill emanating from them. Behind them, two pale figures with nails driven into their eyes seep black fluid and moan and weep out a dirge. </p><p></p><p>Shakgar grins savagely at Heimall. “I told you so!”</p><p></p><p>“Vann-La!” shouts Heimall. “Get in there! Git!!”* Even as the Kree warrior springs forward, Shakgar enters a <em>stone bear rage</em> and, frothing at the mouth and roaring like a bear, he crashes forward, landing a terrific blow against one of the enemy. Cook rushes in on his heels, unleashing a <em>blinding barrage</em> at the foe. A <em>fiery burst</em> explodes behind the undead, lacing fire across their backs, courtesy of Hkatha.</p><p></p><p>Inevitably, our heroes push forward, smashing the undead to bits. The weeping undead ululate in despair as Torinn turns the group of enemies, pushing them back and annihilating one of the undead sewing projects. Then Hkatha’s <em>shock spheres</em> and <em>blinding burst</em> go off. Two undead remain, and Shakgar tears through them both. </p><p></p><p>“Not bad,” Hkatha quips. The party tries to take a moment to catch their breaths, but suddenly a gloomy, incorporeal figure appears, phasing through the ceiling for a moment before darting back through.</p><p></p><p>“Crap,” sighs Iggy. “Get ready- I think we’re about to have company.”</p><p></p><p>Indeed- for the ghostly figure slips down the stairs that rise up the wall of the square tower, followed by a ghastly figure, gaunt, dressed in rotted finery. A great man-shaped contraption of wood, stone and metal clanks along beside him, and he is surrounded by a cloud of stirges. </p><p></p><p>“Who disturbs Krezjarl the lich?” the figure hisses.</p><p></p><p>“Crap,” Iggy repeats.</p><p></p><p><em><strong>Next Time:</strong></em> Hurray, I got to use a lich in 4th edition!</p><p></p><p></p><p>*<em>Knight’s move</em> and then <em>commander’s strike</em> combo.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="the Jester, post: 5001594, member: 1210"] You will certainly get more of a picture of the [i]Silver Rose of Garnet[/i] over time. It's the first artifact that I used in 4e (although not the last!). That said, here's another update. *** “Dawn. That name again- what does it mean? What does it mean to [i]us?[/i] And more importantly, what does it have to do with Arawn and the Six-Fingered Hand?” [i]You know of her?[/i] “Yes. We heard her mentioned by a... by an oracle, I guess. In the Feywild.” [i]She is a wonderful person.[/i] “She’s still alive?” [i]I have no idea, actually. My sense of the passage of time is not very good.[/i] “And she dated a death knight?” [i]What?[/i] “Arawn- he is a death knight.” A long pause, and then the [i]Silver Rose of Garnet[/i] speaks again, a whisper in Torinn’s mind that only he can hear. [i]Oh dear. No, he was a man when I traveled with Dawn. They loved each other so much. I fear that something terrible has happened to him. Are you sure?[/i] “He is the leader of our enemies, the Six-Fingered Hand. Do you know of them?” [i]No.[/i] Torinn sighs and opens his eyes. “It is definitely talking to me,” he reports. “It sounds like it knew Arawn before he was a death knight.” “Oi, how long ago was that?” asks Cook. The dragonborn shrugs. “I don’t know. It doesn’t seem to track time very well.” He takes a deep breath and speaks inwardly again. “What can you tell us about him?” [i]Little. She met him not too long before I moved on from her possession. He was a strong, good man; he made her very happy. They were very much in love.[/i] “Maybe,” Torinn says aloud, “whatever happened to Dawn is what drove Arawn to become a death knight. The [i]Rose[/i] says that he was a good man, at least when they met.” “I thought that the dragon said that Dawn betrayed someone,” Hkatha interjects. “Right? Something about elven sisters betraying too many people or something?” [i]Dawn was a human,[/i] the [i]Silver Rose[/i] tells Torinn. “Dawn was a human,” the cleric relays to the others. “Then who are the elven sisters?” wonders Vann-La. “Maybe they betrayed Dawn and Arawn,” suggests Cook. “Well, the [i]Rose[/i] doesn’t know.” “It doesn’t really matter,” Vann-La states. “It doesn’t change the fact that we need to destroy Arawn and his damned Six-Fingered Hand or civilization will perish.” *** [i]What are they doing?[/i] [i]Standing around talking,[/i] the shorter gnome signs back. They are communicating using a complex language of gestures and silent body language, one that makes no noise whatsoever. This is a vital skill to have developed over the years of Hand despoilment. [i]Now they are moving towards the lich’s tower again.[/i] [i]The [/i]Rose[i] is in the right hands, at least.[/i] The silver rose holy symbol clasping his cloak is clearly an emulation of the one in Torinn’s possession, beautifully crafted yet unequal to the real thing. Silently, the pair of gnomes moves through the hidden underways of the city, cutting straight through the series of long winding streets through which our heroes tread. They reach a good vantage point from which they can gaze upon Krezjarl’s Tower unseen. [i]I hope they succeed,[/i] the shorter gnome signs. [i]Yes. Dawn’s goodness is an example to all of us who serve Garnet. I have no doubt that she would be elevated into a Saint, if only her spirit were resting.[/i] *** The tower is square, squat, wide, four storeys high. A window on the top level is shuttered closed. The door into the tower is bound with wide bands of bronze and graven with threatening-looking glyphs and characters. A large, heavy knocker of brass is in the center of it. About 25’ up the side of the tower, multiple vents in each wall allow strange puffs of orange smoke to escape. “What’s up with that door?” wonders Heimall. Hkatha examines the arcane glyphs graven around the door. “It is basically the magical equivalent of a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign. I don’t think they actually do anything- I think they are just here to look threatening. It looks like whoever placed them was probably a necromancer.” “Good!” Shakgar declares. “Something to kill!” “Maybe, maybe not,” Heimall says. “He could just be here, hurting nobody, minding his own business.” Shakgar just snorts. Torinn knocks on the door. “Hello!” he calls. “Is anybody home?” The door opens, and the heroes are looking into a large, square room with several human corpses hanging from hooks on the back wall. A trio of scrawny-looking creatures, grotesquely sewn together from the body parts of many others, stands in the room, a seeping chill emanating from them. Behind them, two pale figures with nails driven into their eyes seep black fluid and moan and weep out a dirge. Shakgar grins savagely at Heimall. “I told you so!” “Vann-La!” shouts Heimall. “Get in there! Git!!”* Even as the Kree warrior springs forward, Shakgar enters a [i]stone bear rage[/i] and, frothing at the mouth and roaring like a bear, he crashes forward, landing a terrific blow against one of the enemy. Cook rushes in on his heels, unleashing a [i]blinding barrage[/i] at the foe. A [i]fiery burst[/i] explodes behind the undead, lacing fire across their backs, courtesy of Hkatha. Inevitably, our heroes push forward, smashing the undead to bits. The weeping undead ululate in despair as Torinn turns the group of enemies, pushing them back and annihilating one of the undead sewing projects. Then Hkatha’s [i]shock spheres[/i] and [i]blinding burst[/i] go off. Two undead remain, and Shakgar tears through them both. “Not bad,” Hkatha quips. The party tries to take a moment to catch their breaths, but suddenly a gloomy, incorporeal figure appears, phasing through the ceiling for a moment before darting back through. “Crap,” sighs Iggy. “Get ready- I think we’re about to have company.” Indeed- for the ghostly figure slips down the stairs that rise up the wall of the square tower, followed by a ghastly figure, gaunt, dressed in rotted finery. A great man-shaped contraption of wood, stone and metal clanks along beside him, and he is surrounded by a cloud of stirges. “Who disturbs Krezjarl the lich?” the figure hisses. “Crap,” Iggy repeats. [i][b]Next Time:[/b][/i][b][/b] Hurray, I got to use a lich in 4th edition! *[i]Knight’s move[/i] and then [i]commander’s strike[/i] combo. [/QUOTE]
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