The Stepchildren of Fate (Updated 6/3)

[Jeremy]

Well, they did better than my team.

 

[htetickrt]

Well, they did better than my team.

What happened to them?

Anyway, it's not over yet. By my count, I've only written up less than half the deaths due to Dorina. That was a nasty combat, though not as bad as the upcoming showdown with Solom.

By the way, I was checking out your story hour and liked it. Plus, the pictures were really impressive. Why did you stop posting?

 

[Jeremy]

Too much work. I've got day by day notes in game time to pick it back up at some point, but too much work to prep for the game, go to work, and write those huge updates.

As for how they did, Titus, Elayne, and half the party got killed by Dorina, Zedarr, and Ripper who had barricaded themselves in Dorina's chamber. It was ugly...

 

[htetickrt]

Too much work. I've got day by day notes in game time to pick it back up at some point, but too much work to prep for the game, go to work, and write those huge updates.

I hear you. Same reason it's taking me far longer than expected to get these updates out. I started writing my notes up more completely around part 3 of the adventure though, so once I get there things should go more smoothly.

As for how they did, Titus, Elayne, and half the party got killed by Dorina, Zedarr, and Ripper who had barricaded themselves in Dorina's chamber. It was ugly...

Ouch, that sounds tough, EL-wise. My players are at the climax of part 3 right now, and the remaining defenders of the castle are barricaded behind a door themselves. I think it's EL 24 or 25 in there right now. That should be a fun battle.

 

[htetickrt]

Vampire Smackdown II: Dorina T’sarran​

Though exhausted, Trella takes charge. “Down the hall, but go save Andy first. Before she becomes something even stranger than she is now.” The druid heals herself after she gives her orders, sighing as her heartbeat slows a bit from its frantic pace.

Kyree obliges, reaching Calla’s position with alacrity. A few arrows convince the vampires that discretion is the better part of continuing a meal later, and both flee in gaseous form immediately, though one does manage to kick Andy’s body before leaving.

Most of the others arrive soon after, just in time to heal Andy back to awareness. The monk awakens with a start, looks around nervously, and crawls to the wall. With less than her usual attitude, she mutters, "What a freaking mess."

Unlike the rest of the group, Khail moves through the double doors to the north, waiting for the return of the priestess. He refuses to be caught unaware by her "dastardly evil" as his internal monologue puts it.

Meanwhile, Buttercup rattles his chains, showing more animation than he had since being dominated. "Let me out!" he cries pitifully.

Seeing the vampires gone and still desirous of a good smashing, the stone giant stomps over to Buttercup and lays into the chains twice. The sheer strength of the large humanoid is sufficient to break the manacles, and Buttercup tumbles to the ground. Before anyone can go to him, the half-orc raises his head, bloodshot eyes wide and staring. "They shouldn’t hear us!" he half-shouts, half-whines, and speaks words of magic that render the area completely devoid of sound.

Watching Buttercup warily, Kyree nocks an arrow and waits for a return of the vampires. Trella leaves the region, gesturing for the remaining stone giant to follow. Once free to speak, she heals him with a prayer, adding her profound thanks for his efforts. He grunts his acceptance, though proves unwilling to nursemaid the goblins, despite the druid’s subsequent request.

Quid drags Andy over to her, restoring the monk’s abilities with a prayer of her own. “What now?” she asks, as all save Buttercup and Khail gather around.

Trella sighs tiredly. Pointing to Kyree, she orders, “Find out if Buttercup’s still dominated—I don't care how—and keep him from doing anything rash.” As an after thought, she adds, "Please." To Calla, she says, “Scout for coffins, secret doors, or trouble, and, though it may be hard not to, do not engage anything you find that fights back; return and report it to us.” Andy thanks Quid and pads off after his fellow halfling.

To Quid, Kai, and Rhien, she says wearily, "First and foremost, we need Dobi back. Not that I miss the little freakzilla, but frankly, another body could make all the difference here. Second, we're hurting and I'm betting those vampires are just regrouping for another go 'round with us. I'm seriously pissed off and want to summon some more earth elementals to go on a holy tear, but that's not exactly a well-thought-out plan I have there so I need some input. Oh, and if it turns out Buttercup is much friendlier with vampires, we'll need to deal with that, too, and I don't have any helpful magic there. We also need some healing."

Quid ponders for a second, "I do miss indeed miss the little Dobster very much, and I have some new spells I'd love to try out on some vampire butt, but I feel we should press our advantage while we have it. We have them on the run. If we let her misty holiness off the hook for another day, she'll come back with all her spell protections again. I suggest we heal up here and press the attack, though perhaps in a more careful manner. As in we send Calla ahead, and can keep track of her with detection. Let’s see if we can dispatch the priestess before she can regroup.

Unless maybe there are bigger baddies down the hall that she has fled to, in which case, perhaps we should regroup." Quid shrugs somewhat indecisively.

"Okay, sounds like as good a plan as any. Let's see what we're up against. Calla, get back here." The rogue pads back, with Andy in tow. Her initial frustration over being called back fades rapidly upon realizing she is being called to make renewed contact. So much so, in fact, that Trella feels it necessary to caution her not to overstep her mandate.

"But protection is a matter for local security," the halfling whines. "Investigation is implied in my mandate."

"Whatever," Trella says with a sigh.

Calla pads off again, this time without Andy in tow. As she makes for the outer ring of the House Morcane level, the rest of the group turns to healing. All save Buttercup, that is, who remains sulking in a corner. His continued reticence to act normally—or at least less weirdly than he is presently—is a continued source of worry, and eventually Kai determines to do something about it. Subtly-cast magic indicates an enchantment aura around the half-orc, and Kai’s shoulders sag. After backing away as nonchalantly as she can manage, she conveys the situation to Khail in a whisper.

The paladin, as is his wont, abandons subtlety as he draws his blade and approaches Buttercup. “No one is going to hurt you,” he says, unconvincingly.

Buttercup whimpers and backs away himself; Khail approaches boldly. For his trouble, he receives a ray of searing light to the chest, answering the group’s remaining questions definitively.

Khail booms, “Begone foul domination!” and invokes the abjuring power of his blade. Buttercup draws his greataxe; Kai indicates that the domination remains.

The paladin tries again, this time removing the silence radius. This apparently causes Buttercup great emotional anguish, as he charges Khail in a fury. His axe swing is horribly wild, however, and connects with nothing but air.

“Do not make this more difficult, friend Buttercup,” Khail patronizes. A third abjuration fails. Buttercup cries, “Leave me alone, human!” and hacks out a gouge of paladin-flesh.

Khail begins to grow frustrated. “Come on, now, just sit still.” More failures follow, along with three more axe wounds that leave the floor slick with blood. “Argh!” he moans.

Rhien tumbles in, kicking up at the half-orc’s axe. His aim is true, and the weapon is knocked clean out of Buttercup’s hands. Undeterred, the cleric leaps at Khail and attempts to grapple with him. The stronger, more experienced paladin easily pushes him away. “Get out of his brain you doomed evil thing!” he screams, and the domination fails.

Buttercup’s face untwists, and he begins to weep. "Wha—what happened? Oh no! I'm so sorry. So sorry…." The half-orc retreats back to the corner.

Calla returns then, looking dejected. “Nothing there. No drow flesh to skewer.”

Trella goggles at her. “You’re really starting to disturb me.” Before she can say more, Dorina reasserts her presence from afar. Khail, on the periphery, is assaulted by the sudden appearance of a spectre; those closer to the middle of the room are forced to dive in all directions to avoid a whirling mass of razor-sharp blades that just as abruptly manifests.

Of all the companions, Kyree has the easiest time evading the barrier, and he rolls to his feet and has an arrow ready for the spectre while most others are still sprawled ungainly across the cold stone floor. Unfortunately, this narrow focus leaves him open to the unexpected, which here takes the form of coruscating negative energy that threatens his very existence. The elf grits his teeth, and fires true.

Rhien watches the spectre’s recoil, but can spare it no more attention, thanks to the enemy forces now arrayed in the eastern doorway. The monk rebounds off of the far wall, flips in the air, and skims the ceiling as he charges. The intent of his action is clear—someone must take the brunt of the assault while the party regroups—and Rhien conveys as much to Trella with a glance back.

Trella reacts instantly, screaming at those inside the blade barrier, "GET OUT, GET OUT OF THERE!"

The message doesn’t need to be repeated, and a mad rush of bodies exits the chamber to join Khail in the archway. On the way, Andy yells at Buttercup, "No time for tears, we NEED you, Butters!" which earns her a look, a loud snuffle, and the lumbering approach of the burly priest.

Next to her, Quid groans, wondering not for the first time what she has gotten herself into by joining this odd band. Nevertheless she acts with resolve, placing a blade barrier of her own across the eastern entrance. The metal cuts into the huge spiders in front, but its action on those shielded by the arachnids is less easily discernable. Soon after, the blades vanish, a victim of Kai’s attempt to remove all impediments to rushing Dorina. The drow’s answering cackle grates on both women; her flame strike has a more tangible effect, leaving most present badly burned.

Rhien seeks her out, but is foiled by a deep darkness that blankets the passage. “If we don’t get her soon, she’ll destroy us from a distance!” he shouts, uncharacteristically perturbed. Supporting his urgency, he exhausts the power of his boots to heal the party fully.

The party is stymied from following the monk’s advice, however, by the continued reluctance of Dorina’s magic to succumb to abjurations. Eventually the group gives up; Trella flits over to the corridor in the form of a hummingbird, while Kai takes those she can on a short inter-dimensional jaunt. Rhien scoops up the stragglers and flies them over.

“Finally, the battle is joined!” Khail cries boldly, as his comrades file in behind him. “Let evil quake before us!” For a moment it seems to do just that, as the paladin’s training permits him to strike with skill when others could only flail. Two spiders fall to his charge, and, when the light of Quid’s stone cancels the darkness itself, Danek’s rage slaughters the third.

Unfortunately for the holy warrior, the arachnids were more shield than defender of the doughty Dorina. With a word green fire immolates Khail, and when it passes all that remains of him are dust and clattering armor.

Quid screams in horror, and lashes out with holy fire to scorch the drow. Calla’s blade adds acid to the mix, and Andy’s siangham sends the spectre back to oblivion. For her trouble she is nearly stabbed to death.

Trella flies to the fore and resumes her own shape; standing by her side Kyree releases a storm of arrows that strike with stunning accuracy. Three send a vampire to dust; the fourth sails through the spreading mist to embed itself in the priestess’s neck.

Kai acknowledges Kyree’s display grimly as she arrives, firing off a pair of fireballs at the two remaining drow. Dorina’s focus is on Kyree as well, though hers is far less benign. Finding his offensive prowess to far exceed his defensive ability, she swiftly crushes his resistance with her potent will. Making sure that the elf’s behavior shows no measure of this, she quietly retreats from the battle, joined by the last noble guard of House Morcane.

Kyree makes as if to follow, and then turns smoothly on his heels to face Kai. Her back provides a tempting target to the elf’s controller, and it soon becomes home to four of Kyree’s best arrows. Stunned, Kai reels in shock, spinning to face her assailant in anger. Luckily for them both, Quid is ready with the appropriate magic, and a touch delivers freedom for the archer. Freedom from domination, that is, not from the look of reproach the frequently-targeted Kai cannot help but give, nor from the near-homicidal gaze of the raging Danek. Anger and remorse alternately color Kyree’s delicate features.

As this drama plays out, the others batter at the locked door that separates them from following after Dorina. Calla slips in underneath them and deftly picks the lock.

Trella pushes open the door and screams, “Fan out and find her!” Obeying, the band splits up, passing through ruined bedchambers and bare hallways in their quest. Kyree ranges out ahead, both to avoid recrimination and escape his noisy comrades, and so he is the first to hear the coming of the noble guard. A call to Quid brings light to illuminate the vampire, and Danek and Buttercup charge in unison to bring steel. Kyree tries to add fletched wood, but after his first arrow lodges in Buttercup’s behind, the elf sadly puts down his bow.

Kai picks up the slack, boring ten holes in the guard, and he quickly reverts to mist to escape more punishment. Trella slams her staff into the wall as the gas passes, cursing the small holes that provide such convenient escape routes for the vampires.

Calla releases a far more virulent curse after not arriving to the action fast enough, and immediately goes to work on the next locked door. This lock also falls quickly to her skill, and the halfling is storming through a lavishly-furnished room before the door is fully opened, determined not to miss out again. The rest of the group follows behind, catching up only when Calla is forced to halt at ornate double doors. They find her examining the woodwork closely.

Trella is in no mood for such attention to detail. “Open them!” she screams, somewhat shrilly.

“Could be a trap,” Calla huffs.

“Then get rid of it.”

“I said could; I haven’t found anything, but the damned drow are deviously diabolical.”

“Just open it then. Everyone else get back.” The druid stands her ground with the rogue, in case anyone is waiting just inside the portal.

Calla masterfully picks the well-worked lock for the third time in a row and turns the handle on the door. As she does so, flames sear the pair, and both are forced to dive away from the portal. They start to struggle to their feet, but are again sent sprawling by a second column of fire, which this time encompasses all those present. Buttercup’s body, untouched by the healing prayers he freely bequeathed to others, has had enough, and it fails under the onslaught. The half-orc’s body fades into insubstantiality while the lingering stench of charred flesh provides an odious counterpoint to the fell chamber past the doors.

Kyree pushes aside thoughts of the growing cost in lives, ignores the majestic dark tapestries depicting unspeakable horrors that hang above long tables of gleaming black wood, and concentrates fully on the unmistakable drow woman draped casually across a throne of bones. The missiles that fly from his bow are soon joined by Kai’s enchanted variety, but none appear to have the slightest effect. Quid analyzes the data and comes to a simple conclusion: illusion. True sight confirms her estimation, revealing the true Dorina standing below the throne inside of a false column, though convincing the others of this proves difficult.

Once they realize the truth, however, the battle once again descends into chaos. With so many ready to disrupt her spells, Dorina is forced to adopt more aggressive tactics, and blows from both sides are dealt with reckless abandon. Even without Khail’s strength, such a scrum favors the party, and inexorably—though not without serious injury—they wear away at the vampires. Finally, with a slash and an arrow, both turn to gas. Dorina, so vocal earlier, vanishes into another room without a whisper.

Calla, on the other hand, cackles madly and unleashes a string of invective that makes even Trella’s ears burn. She is almost thankful when Kai’s warning that the vampire’s crypt has not yet been found gives the rogue pause. Trella uses the break to order the others to search.

Danek snarls, trying hard to maintain the anger that supports her continued consciousness, and storms off to slam the butt of her longsword against the walls. Despite her passion, it is Quid’s enhanced sight that picks out the hidden door, and Calla’s skill that pries it open.

A moment’s glance into the revealed room yields the prize—a stone sepulcher covered in gorgeous, shining copper leaf—as well as the unwelcome presence of a dozen skeletons, all holding up one foot. These cause little fear in the seasoned group, but their intent was not to engage in a hopeless combat. Instead they all put their feet down with awful synchronicity, triggering Dorina’s final defense: another deadly blade barrier.

Shards of bone fly outward, as the expanding radius shreds the minor undead. Kyree, Kai, Calla, and Rhien sprint at the wave’s edge, barely diving to safety in time, but their friends are not so lucky. Quid, bleeding heavily from numerous slashes across the midsection, is slammed against the opposite wall like a discarded toy. Trella, made of sturdier stuff but taxed beyond even her limit, is knocked to the earth, her consciousness fading with each spurt of blood. Andy and Danek fare even worse, though their end is relatively painless as the two are instantly beheaded. They vanish before their empty bodies can join Trella under the blades; an answering mist passes from Quid’s bag as they pass out of the room, and out of the story.

Though the loss will be felt later, the group is not yet out of danger, and only Kai’s quick reaction and ready telekinesis save Trella from a similar fate. Once her limp form has been dragged out of the barrier, Quid restores a measure of health with one of her few remaining spells.

The druid moans as she comes back to herself. “How long do we have left before the bitch returns?”

Kai answers, “Less than an hour.”

“No good; the barrier will be around longer than that. Can you dispel it?”

Kai grimaces. “I’ve got one shot at it, but I haven’t had the best of luck in the past.”

Kyree pulls back his bowstring. “Let me try; I may get lucky.” The archer summons an arrow of dispelling and lets it fly, but the blades do not vanish. He slumps his shoulders in defeat.

Rhien takes flight, looking profoundly guilty about something. “I can fly over the blades and try to open the coffin. I am unhurt.”

Trella looks like she is going to say something, but thinks better of it. Finally she suggests, “Take Calla with you. There may be more traps.” The halfling responds enthusiastically, eager to do whatever harm she can to her hated foe. Rhien picks her up gingerly and conveys her to the coffin; Calla foils another trap with a calm focus that belies her slightly deranged aspect. Rhien’s fists do the rest, breaking the copper bands holding on the lid, and sending the carved stone to shatter against the blade barrier. Flecks of stone spiral in every direction, but cause no permanent harm.

Rhien drags Dorina from her rest, and brings her to his companions. Once there she is assailed by every manner of vampire-slaying tactic available, eventually resulting in both her demise and a floor soaked with holy water.

This proves enough for Trella, and the druid slides down the wall into the puddle. “Someone should search the area,” she mutters, and puts her head in her hands. “And find the others.” Calla, still oddly enthused, volunteers, accompanied by Rhien.

The two don’t take long to return, she with a set of golden chess pieces, he with the requested news. Trella ignores her appraisal of their worth, focusing on her fallen comrades. “Any sign of what the little buggers turned into this time? I’m guessing Andy’s a kumquat.”

Rhien shakes his head grimly. “No, none. In fact, I don’t even see their belongings, which used to fall to the ground when they changed. And the mist is gone entirely.”

“Any other ways out?”

“Just the ladders up.”

“Might as well check out the front, now that we’re healed up all pretty.”

“The goblins will be happy to see us; they’re scared witless in the center of the maelstrom. Steve and the stone giant are still out there too.”

Kai rolls her eyes at their mention. Kyree pulls up short after examining a bone scrollcase he found. “Hey, I found a letter in Elven,” he announces, and begins to read:

‘Daughter:
Our Dark Lady favors my efforts, and my research proceeds well. Within five tendays, perhaps six, all will be ready for the Day of Great Vengeance. The Spider-Queen is dead; we have already brought low the Spider-kissers and seized our rightful place in the realms of the dark. Now the Day draws near when we shall avenge ourselves upon those of the day-blasted lands, too, and achieve that ultimate triumph denied us so long ago.
While I prepare my Great Revenance, it falls to you to make ready the way. Harry the surface-dwellers, hunt them in their woods and fields, and take the measure of their strength. Do not concern yourself with putting them on their guard; Our Lady desires their blood, their fear, and their dreadful anticipation of our ultimate act of revenge. With each slaying we grow in her favor and sow the seeds of our coming victory.
If they come against you in Szith Morcane in irresistible strength, slay as many as you can. Withdraw from the fight if you must, and bring Zedarr with you, but as for the rest—they are to stand and die for the glory of the White Banshee. The battle for Szith Morcane will come to nothing when our Great Revenance comes to pass. If anything, our final vengeance is made ever sweeter by each fleeting, false hope our enemies entertain before it falls upon them.
Work great slaughter for our Lady’s dark glory, my daughter Dorina. Soon I will come to you from Maerimydra with such dark and terrible might that all of Faerun will tremble before us.

Mother’”

At its conclusion, Kai moans, barely suppressing a scream of frustration. Calla’s eyes gleam wickedly. “Does this mean we’re off to kill more drow?” she asks enthusiastically. The others ignore her.

Rhien retrieves a second scrollcase from Dorina’s coffin. “There’s a rough map of the surrounding Underdark here, with a marked trail leading to Maerimydra and markers for places of interest.”

Trella asks, “Can we teleport to the city?”

Quid shakes her head. “Too risky. Faerzress—a magical radiation—fills the Underdark and makes scrying difficult and teleportation dangerous. With only a rough map to guide us, we may as well deliberately teleport into solid rock.”

“We just have all the luck, don’t we,” Trella grumbles, before leading the diminished group back to the blade barrier. Rhien and Quid ferry all over, and then carry the remaining goblins across, kicking and screaming all the way. Devoid of any rational thought, they run screaming toward the entrance, several falling into the chasm below in their haste to escape. Kai and Kyree both glare at them.

As the group follows behind more slowly, all halt on Quid’s mark a dozen feet from the exit to the level. The cleric, still gifted with superior vision, says through clenched teeth, “We have company. It’s the archmage.” Unshed tears gather in her eyelid, threatening to fall.

Trella exclaims, “Oh goody. I wonder what he wants.”

The drow wizard inclines his head slightly. “You have done well in destroying Dorina, but you are not yet done with our deal. There is one more priest with power here, residing in the fane of Lolth above. You must destroy her as well. Once you have done this and paid me my remaining gold for the slaves, your debt to me will be repaid.”

 

[hobz]

ah, Dobi's futile mack attempts, with Calla and "A-lo" good times. It's been so long I had forgotten. Also useful for backstory. We've come quite a long way.

(Dobi/Quid's player)
ben

 

[htetickrt]

The Arrogance of the Archmage​

Quid reaches her breaking point with the archmage’s callous words, and dark thoughts coalesce abruptly into rage. "Look you cryptic fancypants ****, we'll pay you your ****ing money! You could have been a little more forthcoming with information and help instead of sneering your pretty boy face while sitting on your wussy ass. We'll get to the other priestess when we're damn well good and ready. Our deal has no specification of time, so shut the **** up. I… I….”

Quidlyn slowly unclenches her fists, leaving behind angry red marks in her palms. The tension of her arms relaxing, she slowly looks to the survivors, pointedly avoiding the archmage. "I'm sorry. That was stupid, I…." Angry with herself for her weakness, Quid rushes past the archmage to exit the level.

Trella stares at her as she passes, at a loss. She drags over a goblin corpse and takes a load off in order to collect her thoughts.

Kai, whose lower lip has been trembling for several minutes, pulls herself together after sympathetically watching Quid's departure. Suppressing the tremors by compressing her lips past the point of whiteness, she finally turns to face the archmage with all the poise she can muster. "A priestess of Kiaransalee in the Fane of Lloth? A likely story. We have paid for your failure to provide substantive aid by the loss of several friends. We consider our original deal satisfied." She watches the mage carefully through narrowed eyes, ready to dole out a passel of teleports at a moment's notice.

As Kai speaks, Quid discovers that she is going nowhere, by foot anyway. A horde of sleeping goblins lies sprawled out along an invisible wall extending from under the exit to the chasm, likely sealing it off until the archmage is done speaking. He notes Quid's acknowledgement of this with a smirk, visible only to her.

Her escape stymied by the invisible wall, Quid sits down dejectedly amidst the goblins.

"Are we finished with the theatrics now, or should I summon a playwright to record the melodrama for posterity?" he says in an amused tone, with a slight edge to it. "The deal, as you agreed to it, made no mention of the White Lady or the Spider Queen, but merely required the elimination of all priests. There is one more in the fane above. The gold, obviously, is in payment for the slaves, who are useless to me now. I was forced to have them put to sleep merely to silence their endless howling. I will buy back the stone giant for a quarter of what you paid, if you so desire."

The stone giant narrows his eyes, but makes no movement, apparently sufficiently afraid so as to dull his bloodlust. The archmage continues in a harsher voice. "As for my aid, without it only a fraction of you would have made it to the battle with Dorina, and those that did would have surely been destroyed. You owe me your lives, insolent worms, and you are lucky that I do not take what I am due now."

Calming, Solom concludes, "But perhaps you are broken, no longer able to finish what you have begun. Very well. I offer you an alternative bargain. You keep your gold and can depart. All save you, that is." Solom points at Rhien. "You possess potent magic that you should not have, and I would learn its secrets. If you are made my possession, I will consider the deal completed."

Kai fails to restrain herself at this. "We were to provide you with control of this outpost. We have removed all opposition but one priest. We consider any debt for your so-called aid completely repaid. If the archmage of Szith Morcane is incapable of dealing with a single cleric on his own, perhaps he should reconsider his pretensions."

The mage replies lightly, "Ah, another emotional response. It is for this reason that women should not rule. I have been more than generous with this alternative offer. You may take either, or you may pit your combined might against my own, and see first hand my power."

Rhien lays a gentle hand on Kai's shoulder. "If we do not believe we can safely face the priestess above, then I will surrender. I do not believe it would be wise to face the archmage at this juncture." The monk is outwardly calm, but there is a slight eagerness in his eyes that is disturbing to those who know him.

"No!" ejaculates Quid. "Absolutely not. I will not make any more deals with you Solom, and never any that involve the trade of sentient life."

Quid picks herself up off the ground, brushing the dirt off her well-tailored leggings, before turning to face the archmage once more. Having somewhat collected herself, Quid flies up to look Solom in the eye and continues very deliberately, "I will abide by the terms of the gold deal Solom, out of my own funds if need be. I gave my word, and the debt will be paid in due course. The other priestess we will also deal with, at the time of our choosing. But you have no right to keep us here. If you are to be of no help, then leave us and our charges be." She gestures vaguely over to the goblins. "We will find you as necessary."

Near simultaneous with Quid’s response, Trella jumps to her feet. Visibly willing calm into her personal turmoil, the druid joins the party in facing the archmage.

"We are bent, sir, but not broken." There is iron in her voice. "Pursuant with existing agreements, I do no explicitly recall a timetable in the original, or amended, agreements. Perhaps there was an implied time frame on your part, but being the civilized… thi—archmage that you are, I am certain you are intimately familiar with contracts, fair expectations of mutual reciprocity frameworks and the need for… shall we say, fully delineated terms prior to consummation of all oral agreements? Therefore, being reasonable… individuals, you and we, I propose that you give us sufficient time to heal, replenish spells, relinquish extra equipment, mourn, and do whatever else is necessary to prepare to complete our duly agreed upon work at a time of our convenience. You will be paid the agreed recompense for your… property, and the final priestess will be slain. It would be helpful if you could suggest an area where we could deliberate without needless interruptions that, given our… current state, could retard our progress." Her final remark is sufficiently double-edged to make its meaning plain. She thanks Kyree for inspiration for the legal-ese.

Kyree moans, “I just want to shoot things.”

After Quid's and Trella's near simultaneous elocutions, Solom responds, "I thought as much. Very well. I shall allow you to leave and return to complete your part of the bargain under two conditions. One, you pay me the gold now for the slaves. There is no reason to postpone this; I was merely being generous before, a mistake I shall not repeat in the future. Two, you will sit idly by while I geas the insolent priest," he indicates Quid, "to return to complete her task within five days, which should be no hardship. The geas should never come into play as long as you are truthful.

"That is my final offer. I suggest you agree to it."

Quid concentrates hard on the archmage, but gleans nothing further. Eyes boring into him, she says, "I see no reason why the deal should be modified. However, we can pay you the gold now as a show of good faith, but in return we first want all the information you can provide about the priestess and the powers the priestess serves. If it truly is your goal to bid rid of the priestess, this can only help you as well.

"As for the geas, I also do not see why I should submit to it. We had a deal Solom. That will suffice."

Solom sighs. "Very well." After the gold is given, he says, "The priestess is the last member of the old regime. Before you get overemotional about this as well, you have no deal with her. She is dead, a ghost. Her rantings prevent my full control of the city. I could dispose of her myself, but since you have agreed to do so I will let you." Solom smirks.

"She is a servant of the Spider-Queen, and so will not threaten you with her brand of 'magic.' You must thus only prepare yourselves for her ghostly assault. I am sure the pious among you know more than I in this regard. Or perhaps not, but I am finished speaking."

There is a pregnant pause as Quid continues to stare. When she is done, Solom says, "I will dismiss the wall of force so that you may depart, but before I can do so I will give you a minute to retrieve your slumbering slaves. Be quick about it."

Trella goes to the little guys and awakens them. She begins herding them away from the barrier and tries as best she can to keep them from seeing Solom. They struggle at first, so the druid changes shape into a dire bear. Then they faint. She enlists help to drag their unconscious forms back to solid ground.

Solom watches this impassively, looking slightly bored. Quid attempts to ply him for information about the other drow faction. "In case we come across any of their minions, it would be useful to know what we are up against."

Solom responds simply, “There is no other faction. The priestess is the last of her House, and she is dead. A ghost. There are no others.”

With an odd look on his face, he gestures for the wall to fall and says, “You will return within five days to finish your task.” Quid starts as she realizes that the words were backed by magic.

“You son of a b*tch!” she cries, to which he merely responds, “Ta,” and vanishes.

Calla approaches Quid, “We’ll get him,” she says with conviction, and more than a little bloodlust.

Trella lets loose a great sigh as she reverts to her usual form. After gesturing obscenely at the rough location formerly occupied by Solom, she wakes up the goblins. Trella informs them of their purchased freedom and gives them, as well as the lone stone giant, permission to go back or wherever since they are basically free men/women/goblins/stone giant. She urges them to decide as a group to go, wait for the party to complete its business, or whatever. The stone giant she says would be a welcome addition to the upcoming fight, but he has the right to leave, too.

It takes a while and some translation for this all to sink in, but when it does the goblins bolt en masse. Several fall screaming into the chasm, but most make it up the remains of the spiderweb and begin to ascend out of the crypt. Kai and Kyree glare at them. The stone giant gifts Trella with an, “Are you crazy?” look, and follows more slowly.

Rhien approaches Quid and gestures to the bag of holding, saying gently, “How much do you think what we have found is worth on the market?”

Quid recognizes the intellectual diversion for what it is but is nonetheless grateful for it. She opens the enchanted sack and begins cataloguing its contents. It takes only minutes for her to come up with a rough estimate of the total haul. “One hundred fifteen thousand, more or less. Add that to what we had, and divide by seven…” she momentarily pauses in sadness, before continuing, “and we each get around eighteen thousand gold.”

Rhien continues, “And how much do you think it would cost to obtain a true resurrection for Khail?”

Quid steeples her fingers as she thinks. “Well, there’s obtaining the diamond, and finding a priest…I think I could get it for fifteen thousand or so, with some haggling. I know some people in Athkatla who might be able to help. Regardless, some of us should return there to regroup and resupply.”

Trella replies, “Let’s leave here first.” All in agreement on that point, the party makes the slow trek up to ponder its next move.

 

[htetickrt]

So, it's been just short of three months since my last update. My apologies to my readers, assuming I still have any. The lull corresponded with a lull in the campaign from which the story arises. We took a break right before the fourth part, and are still breaking, as of this writing. Hopefully, this will spur us to start again. I do plan on continuing to write more often, for what it's worth. This particular installment covers the introduction of a new character/player, so if you've quite reasonably forgotten all that has gone before, there's a brief summary a little more than halfway through. As an additional incentive to pick this up again, I've already written the next installment, and after I get done a few more, my notes become much more easily translatable to story hour form, for faster posting.

Erdrick of Cormyr and Alisannara Morcane​

Kyree mulls over purchases in his head for a time before interrupting the party's thoughtful silence. "I have devised several alternatives for use of our gold and for raising Khail that we could discuss."

Trella's eyebrow rises reflexively. "Oh, have you now?"

Kyree, as usual, misses the tone. "Yes. Would you like to hear them?"

"Don't take this the wrong way, but why is it you always have alternatives when gold is involved?"

Kyree shrugs. "It's easier. When there are enemies, my mind goes blank and I just want to shoot them. Spending gold has more options associated with it."

Trella looks surprised. "I wasn't aware you had thought about this."

"I am more than meets the eye."

"Like a transformer?"

"A what?"

"You know, those elven toys that change form. Seriously, the phrase is trademarked. You could get into trouble."

Kyree whines, "Can I just give my alternatives?"

Trella mock bows. "By all means, guv'nor."

The elf begins, but Quid cuts him off. "Before you get going, maybe we should discuss the ridiculousness of a tri-metallic standard."

Kyree pouts. "Now you're making fun of me."

"Would I do that?" Quid is all innocence.

"How should I know? I just met you a few days ago."

"Good point. Anyway, I'll begin with the relative frequency of copper."

Kyree talks over her, spelling out the options, as he sees them.

Kai lets out a deep breath as he finishes. "I guess there isn't a reason to come back and fight the archmage immediately. I'll have to think about this more."

Kyree puffs out his chest.

"Hey, what about Dobi?" Trella asks suddenly, causing Quid to check her bag of holding. Upon discovering his body is no longer there, she snaps it shut and cries, "Oh, Dobster!" breaking down momentarily.

Trella pats her shoulder awkwardly for the minute it takes her to collect herself. Then Kai suggests, "Perhaps information on Solom's supporters would be helpful. Powerful as he is, we could take him as a group if he were alone. In any case, as long as our mission is changing from stopping raids to saving the world, it's true that the world would be better off without him."

The sorceress grins crookedly. "You know, this is the point that Khail would nod and say something ridiculously naïve like 'Freedom's on the march.'" She scrunches up her face. "Are we sure we want him back?" She's mostly kidding. Steve whinnies angrily.

"Sorry guys," she adds, "it's just that I could do with a few days of R&R and shopping. And maybe taking in a play or a show. It's been a long time."

Trella shrugs. "I wouldn't mind getting some natural light. Another day underground and I'd become pale and even more surly than usual. My concerns are like I said before, and the closer we get to the fifth day, the worse it will be for Quid, and we don't want to see Quid go insane and something equally awful." She smiles awkwardly at her fellow priestess.

Kyree nods. “Okay, so we'll wait five days for Rhien's boots to fully recharge, and we'll pay for Khail's resurrection. Right?”

Quid agrees. "But no more; there is that whole Revenance thing to worry about."

Kyree replies, "Huh?" The rest of the trip passes in silence.

********************************************

Trella resumes her own shape to greet the half of the party that had gone to Athkatla, vigorously shaking off the dirt that had clung to her lupine paws. She greets Khail with a smirked “Welcome back, you big lug.” Steve trots up to the paladin, nuzzling his majestic head against his face until Khail strokes it.

Khail apologizes for his failure against the priest, but Trella shakes him off. “Nothing to be sorry for, big guy.”

Kyree, ever focused on his goals, inquires, “Did you get our stuff?”

Kai rolls her eyes—a gesture not devoid of affection—and helps to pass out hard earned magic. Trella dons her new belt and promptly challenges everyone to arm wrestle. Though she still loses to Khail, she feels the match was closer. She even manages to convince Kyree to give it a try. Upon beating the elf, she leaps to her feet, raises her arms, and begins saying, “I am the greatest!” over and over again. Kyree resolves never to wrestle her again.

Trella has other plans, voiced as soon as she tires of her victory strut. "We'll be here alone for a few days. You know you like it."

Kyree grumbles, "No I don't. Wrestle Rhien."

"He'll be watching the crypt. And it's no fun to beat him anyway. He just says 'good job' or something like that."

Kai laughs. "You guys have fun. I'm going to an opera." Indeed she does, and has a marvelous time watching a passel of rotund people sing loudly in a language she doesn’t know. Khail, from his position three rows back, dourly secures her safety while fending off female admirers with a decided lack of experience. Quid checks up on her investments, and Calla tries not to imagine skewering drow for a few hours at a time. She almost succeeds. Many miles away, something crawls to the surface of a dark Scottish lake. Also, Trella explores the limits of her ability to wildshape, Kyree takes extended target practice, and Rhien mostly sits still, though he enjoys that in his own way.

The eight reunite the evening of the fourth day in front of the crypt. After tales are exchanged, sleep comes upon all as the fire fades low.

A great roar from above shocks them to wakefulness shortly after dawn. Looking up, they spy a large winged creature, revealed to have a lion’s head and a giant eagle’s wings as it comes closer. Kyree cries, “A griffon!” but Trella shakes her head negatively. “No, not just,” she answers. “The wings are too sleek, and the feathers too small. Plus it has a bronze sheen to it. See?” Not waiting for a response, she says in awe, “It’s a half-dragon. Bronze, I think.”

So lost is the party in examining the majestic creature that all nearly miss the presence of its rider. Clad in full plate of dwarven make that is covered in a dark purple lacquer, with a design of a fearsome dragon of the same color whose jaws rest over the faceplate, he presents quite a picture himself. As he directs his mount to land nearby the group—which has since drawn weapons and taken ready positions—the symbol of Helm can be seen on the gauntleted fist that rests lightly on the pommel of a curved, sheathed blade.

Quid whispers suspiciously, “A purple dragon knight. What interest does Cormyr have here?”

As soon as the dust settles from the landing, the rider slides neatly off the half-griffon’s back and onto his feet. A short black plume at the top of his helmet bobs as he approaches the party, stopping five feet away to incline his head slightly. After passing his eyes over the group, he removes his helm, apparently not fearing a conflict. His hard, grey eyes betray no hint of emotion as they look out from between a mane of dark brown hair and a thick red beard.

When he speaks, his voice is deep and commanding. “I presume you are the adventurers I was told about. I am Erdrick of Cormyr, leader of the blackbrushes. My men will be along shortly. What have you discovered about the drow threat in this area?”

Quidlyn stares thoughtfully at the newcomer from the cowl of her new cloak of elvenkind, wondering if he too sees her look as environmentally conscious, yet classy and elegant. "He better," she thinks, "I spent enough time working for it. But why is he here?"

Her whispered words mirror her internal confusion. "Damn drag'n knights. Boring lugs. Never care about money. Always some nonsense about honor and the like. Though they sure do cut a fine figure... I always liked a man in uniform…."

Finally Quid breaks from her lengthy, partially vocalized internal monologue. "Well met Sir Knight. We were accompanied of late by your colleague, Sir Dobius of Elderberry of Her Regency's foreign service (poor Dobster). Is your presence here related?"

Erdrick replies sadly, “It troubles me to hear of the death of one so loyal. However, my current task does not involve him.”

Trella approaches the knight and shakes his hand, taking some hidden pleasure out of her recently enhanced grip as she introduces herself as “Trella.” The 5'10" tall half-elf is clad in rhino skin armor and wields a deceptively simple wooden staff. Her exposed skin is tanned and scarred, and she appears to be one who has not walked away from a fight in her short life. Though her movements are sprightly, there is a weight to her gaze not normally seen in someone not yet out of her teen years. She visibly leaves the story telling and formal introductions to Kai, waiting to interrupt when appropriate.

Kai steps forward slightly and provides a counterpoint to Quid's hail with a cool inclination of her head. "Well met. Indeed, before we reveal what we have learned, we would know from whom you learned of us. Introductions perhaps are unnecessary." Erdrick barely hears her, as his mind seems to freeze for a moment in contemplation of her beauty and natural grace. Shoulder length dark brown hair appears as if spun from silk and possessed of a life of its own, deep green eyes sparkle in perfect symmetry, hinting at a substantial intellect behind them, and the merest hint of flawless alabaster skin in the gaps between her plain garments sets the soldier’s blood boiling. She is a noblewoman strengthened with steel and made all the more appealing for it, and Erdrick shudders briefly as he returns to his senses, not desiring to pit his will against her own.

As Erdrick backs away, collecting his thoughts, Kyree takes the opportunity to smile and gesture towards Erdrick's bow. "Hello, Erdrick," he says. "Nice bow. Use it often?"

Grateful for the respite, he responds, "I have not used the bow much of late, as I have been in transit from the Far East."

Kyree looks a bit disappointed, but recovers quickly and smiles. "We'll work on it," he offers.

Erdrick nods and addresses the group. “I am here for the same purpose as you. Daggerdale’s rightful lord has requested help in combating the drow raids and I have been sent to investigate on behalf of Her Regency. Sir Dobius would have been able to provide an introduction, but I can only give you my word as a Purple Dragon Knight. So, what can you tell me of the drow threat?”

"I can tell you that there's a heckuva lot of fewer of them to threaten this or any Dale," Trella snorts.

"Incredible. Government bureaucracy that managed to do something right for a change," mutters Quid as she quietly calls upon Waukeen to grant her detection of the newcomer's thoughts. The priestess finds them a bit jumbled as Erdrick's conscious mind struggles to assimilate new impressions and information, while maintaining a strict dominance over an id that keeps trying to picture various party members naked, herself included. Fighting off that image, she is at least reasonably pleased to note that his intentions match his speech, though she is somewhat discomfited by his utter devotion to the crown. Khail, making a simultaneous check for evil, detects none on him.

Satisfied, she says to Erdrick, "The situation here is more dire than we feared. The drow infestation of this area has largely been pacified, as our surly friend implied, but it appears to be only part of a greater drow movement that could have realm wide consequences. Additional forces would be well appreciated."

Pointing to Erdrick's mount, she asks, “Who's your friend there?

Trella adds, "I think we should level with you that we lost several experienced, and brave, companions down there. This place is not kind to the inexperienced or those without significant weaponry and armor. A staff of life or two might be handy as well."

Nodding towards his mount, he answers first, "This is Chagripor, a half bronze dragon / half griffon found during my recent travels to the east." Chagripor inclines his head slightly, indicating his intelligence and fine breeding. Steve whinnies; Khail pats his head.

Erdrick continues, "Regarding the drow threat, perhaps we should join forces. That Dobius would adventure with you is all the proof I need of your intentions. I will heed your advice regarding my men, who have had little experience with war." As they have not yet arrived, Erdrick sets up a marker for them, leaving a message to wait by the crypt’s entrance and guard it against intrusions from below.

Rhien interjects, “Perhaps we should continue this conversation as we descend. Quid does not have an appreciable amount of time left before the geas takes effect.”

All are in agreement, and, after Erdrick convinces the reticent Chagripor that the depths will not be so bad, they reenter the crypt. As they travel cautiously through it, Khail keeps up a terse description as to what the party has encountered so far.

“Most of these early crypts were filled with foul undead and other things better left undisturbed. We vanquished all we saw, though a vampire sorcerer gave us some trouble, turning Trella’s companion Earl the unicorn to stone. He still waits for a cure outside.

“To the right here is an invisible wall, beyond which was hiding the last remnants of the drow House Morcane, former rulers of Szith Morcane, the outpost below. We slew many of them in a mighty battle, though we lost one of our own there. The survivors struck a deal with us, and accompanied us some distance underground, until finally dying themselves at the hands of their contemptible peers. Foul race, the drow.

“This hole leads to the entry post of Szith Morcane, and here we encountered the first resistance from the outpost. Several battles took place here, and two more of our former comrades felt the cold touch of death. We won the hard fought battle, however, securing the post and eliminating resistance from the chasm before us. This web, now frayed into almost uselessness, connects the various layers of the city. We will traverse it with a rope of climbing.”

Trella, trying very hard not to laugh at the paladin tour guide’s choice of language, extracts the rope from her pack and sends it in the direction of the House Morcane layer. As the party slowly climbs, Khail continues.

“We fought through hordes of drow, clearing out the barracks, a bazaar—”

Trella interjects here, “WE didn’t do anything to the bazaar—it was my posse of earth elementals. They ripped through the level, smashing everything they saw, and made it halfway through the commoner level before some stone giant slaves got the last of them. You should have seen the trail of drow destruction. It was awesome!”

Erdrick is a little taken aback at first by her enthusiasm, but the career soldier recognizes pride in one’s men when he sees it. When she finishes talking, he claps her on the back and says, “Good show!”

Trella beams. “Hey, I like the new guy.”

As Khail helps the group into the desired level, he recounts, “After we did what we could among the weaker drow, finding an entrance to the Underdark there, we visited an inverted tower on another level. There we met the archmage Solom Ned’razak. His appearance gave us pause, and we came to a deal with him, accepting his help in exchange for payment for the slaves we had freed above and a promise to eliminate all ruling priests in the outpost.

“We accomplished the lion’s share of this task here, in this layer of the city, though it was not without great personal cost. I lost my life to Dorina T’sarran, Kyree lost his to her vampiric noble guards, and we appear to have permanently lost the entire strange but noble band that freed us from our earlier imprisonment a scant tenday ago.

“The sole surviving priest—though that word is not properly used here—is a ghostly thrall of Lolth residing up the ladder in front of us. Solom was insistent that we destroy her, going so far as to place a geas on Quid to ensure our actions. Thus, we seek now to send her into death for good. We will be aided in this in that Lolth appears no longer to be granting spells to her followers, which should weaken the ghost substantially. We will ascend now.”

Khail falls silent, done with his tale. Calla, bored to tears by the telling of it, looks up from her examination of one of the ladders. “Not so fast Chatty Cathy. The ladder is trapped with some sort of webbing. Hmm…let me see…aha! Got it. Now you can pass.”

Khail, immune to ribbing, merely says, “Thank you. Shall we ascend?”

Erdrick nods, eager to test his mettle with the party. Both his and Khail’s steeds are forced to remain below, due to their large size. As it is, all save Calla must crawl up the narrow passage to the Fane of Lolth.

They finally emerge from the uncomfortable trek into the pungent smell of decaying flesh that fills the stale air in the fane. The rank odor gives the great hall the aura of a battlefield, though absent the croaking of ravens. Indeed, most of the corpses strewn around the room and slumped against the twin rows of columns look as though they fell in battle, their weapons close at hand. The flesh of the corpses has begun melting to slime, allowing the bones to show through and eliciting an "Oh yuck!" from a suddenly squeamish Kyree. The elf's problem is more than psychological; Kyree's knees buckle at the stench and he finds himself quite unable to move on.

Khail scans the room, not needing his paladin sight to detect evil in this wretched place. His gaze falls upon a sacrificial altar, atop which lies a female drow corpse, her neck pierced by a hand crossbow bolt. The paladin moves to remove it, but is stopped by Calla hand on his hip. “That thing is trapped, or my name isn’t Calla Crabtree. Let’s leave it alone, okay big guy?”

Khail nods, but decides to wait after Kyree's not so subtle cough from the rear reminds the rest of the group of his state. Seven minutes later the elf wipes flecks of vomit from his lips and stands, ready to continue. Trella chuckles at him. Kyree glares.

Khail leads the group onward, through a broken gate and into the formerly plush area that, judging by the ecclesiastical motif on the cushions and delicately embroidered pillows strewn haphazardly around the area, could only be the inner fane.

Though bloodstains line the walls and carpet here as well, no bodies are present. The air feels thick and unusually cold, and the sound of metal grating on stone as Kai brushes the broken gate is especially shrill shattering the eerie the silence. Quid, expecting the ghost ahead, begins preparations, sending the more martial-minded members of the group into the ethereal plane.

Immediately the physical world drops away, becoming misty and insubstantial. A curved wall that separated physical regions in the material world is now only a hazy curtain that offers no shielding from the stern drow woman on the other side. Her slight proportions clothed in a black robe trimmed with purple and burgundy, she is unsurprised by the group’s sudden appearance, as they are of hers. Without moving otherwise, she begins to draw in breath.

Meanwhile, back in the Material plane, Calla, Kai, and Rhien see none of this. What they do see, however, is the sudden appearance of a hideous spider-like bebilith, apparently summoned by a triggered trap. It spies the small group of three and fires off a web before they even know it’s there. Calla reacts with preternatural speed, diving out of the way, but Rhien and Kai are trapped in the tough webbing for the time being.

This has little effect on the sorceress, however, as she promptly vaporizes the bebilith with a ray of greenish light before it can act again. After having seen her earlier adventuring group torn apart by these creatures, the halfling acknowledges the deed with a look that borders on awe.

On the ethereal plane, the rest of the group reacts with similar efficiency. In seconds, Kyree, Trella, and Khail have dealt stinging blows to the keening spirit, leaving her on the edge of oblivion.

Erdrick knows only that a foe remains to be fought, and acts accordingly. The purple dragon knight discreetly puts some spittle on his left earlobe, exhales deeply through his nose as he quickly draws his katana, and shouts an oath of wrath to defeat the drow ghost. The oath is satisfied quickly, as his first thrust skewers the former drow on the end of Erdrick's axiomatic katana. The noble samurai twists the blade in place before slowly drawing it back, and then watches as the spirit fades into nothingness. “That was not a challenge,” he states flatly.

Quid rolls her eyes. “Well at least it took care of my geas—wait! Cr*p! It’s still there!”

Khail responds, “Perhaps the ghost might rejuvenate, and thus is not truly dead.”

Quid slaps her forehead with the palm of her hand. “Damn it! F***ing stupid pretty boy bastard!”

Recovering somewhat, she says, “Fine. All we have to do is figure out how to kill it for good. Let’s go back.”

The five ethereal companions move away from the webbing and return to the Material plane in time to watch Rhien and Kai escape from their entanglement, the latter with Calla's disquietingly reverent aid. Quid's glare cuts off Kai's greeting, and the priest proceeds to stomp around the inner fane, throwing bloody pillows around with abandon. When all she finds is a scattering of ash that she guess is the remains of Szith Morcane’s high priestess, she curses and moves behind the back wall of the inner temple. There she finds a large alcove holding clerical vestments and temple fixtures, all of which bear the spider symbol of Lolth. A pile of cinders and ashes on the floor seems to indicate that any other items stored here have been burned.

The cleric rampages through the vestry, tossing aside implements of Lolth-worship as she searches for anything that could be a clue to permanently eliminating the ghost. All she finds are assorted heavy religious objects and some similarly devoted texts and vestments, and the priest’s training is sufficient to deduce that nothing here will be of aid.

Storming back to the inner fane, her gaze finally comes to rest on the altar. “What if you desecrated it?” Kai ventures.

Quid slaps her forehead for the second time in the last couple of minutes. “Of course, that should work. We’ve already killed the b*tch that supplanted her here, so that can’t be it, and the whole area outside of here is fouled with Kiaransaleen devotion, so the ‘holiness’ of the altar must be keeping her around. Unfortunately, I didn’t pray for that last night.”

Kai shrugs. “Well, as long as you plan on doing so tomorrow, the geas won’t take effect.”

Quid smiles. “Excellent. Now, what say we—”

Before she can finish, the group hears a mighty roar from below. Erdrick shouts, “Chag!” and immediately begins sprinting to the fane's entry passage. The purple dragon knight is followed closely by the rest of the group, who catch up as he fearlessly dives into the passage. Again following his lead, all soon find themselves back in the former abode of House Morcane.

Steve and Chagripor are still there, but now they have company. A huge troll stands only feet from them, blocking the exit from the level. He is clad in half-plate, and an odd intelligence can be seen in his eyes. Smiling toothily, he says in perfect common, “Solom has decided to terminate this partnership. He hopes there are no hard feelings.”

Erdrick steps forward to protect his steed, but is stopped by Chag’s reaction. Khail relays Steve’s analysis, which is the same as the half-griffon’s: “There are more out there besides the troll.”

Snicker pokes his head out for a second, then just as quickly resumes hiding in Kai’s cloak. The arcanist says hurriedly, “Four arcane guards with spiked chains, one gaunt black-clad drow, one ordinary drow in a green shirt, and that plump drow who ran away earlier from the hunter-killer team.”

At this the troll snarls, “This will not save you,” and the battle is joined.

 

[htetickrt]

A Response to A Message​

The party summons weapons and prepares spells with alacrity, but the troll has been waiting for his foes’ arrival and moves even faster, stoking his own might with a powerful roar. Making full use of his superior reach, the large giant lashes out with his claws at the enemy nearest his position. In short order, Khail's arms and torso are raked by razor-sharp claws, and a chunk is taken out of his shoulder by jagged teeth.

Erdrick is unfazed by his companion's sudden massive blood loss. Ordering his mount to join Calla in protecting the spellcasters in the rear, the samurai ducks a blow to close with the troll, and begins an odd speech:

“Once a group of ten blind masseuses were traveling together in the mountains, and when they began to pass along the top of a precipice, they all became very cautious, their legs shook, and they were in general struck with terror. Just then the leading man stumbled and fell of the cliff. Those that were left all wailed, "Ahh, ahh; how piteous!" But the masseuse who had fallen spoke up from below, "Don't be afraid. Although I fell, it was nothing. I am now rather at ease. Before falling I kept thinking 'What will I do if I fall?' and there was no end to my anxiety. But now I've settled down. If the rest of you want to be at ease, fall quickly!''

Trella and Kyree share a time-honored look of "Is he insane?" but nevertheless they do feel oddly inspired to action, if only to drown out the story. Erdrick, on the other hand, revels in it, driving his blade again and again into remarkably tough troll flesh. Though the wounds so caused are discouragingly small, Erdrick does not waver in his intent. Kyree takes heart from the image of the samurai standing there, gore-covered sword raised in salute, and fires off a barrage of arrows at the troll. He scatters when a quartet of lightning bolts is flung at the group; others are not so lucky.

Kai's subsequent spell coats those invisible in fine sparkling dust, but not in time for Rhien's charge to prevent the plump mage from 'suggesting' “Dorina still lives; you must run to her coffin immediately to destroy her for good.” Kyree spins and rushes back toward the center of the level, joined by Khail's warhorse.

The paladin tries to maintain concentration despite the attrition, but after more of his blood decorates the floor upon his approach to the troll, he is forced to reassess and heal the most serious of his wounds.

The troll scoffs, focusing his ire on what he deems to be the more potent threat. Erdrick's exhibited skill earns him a helping of what Khail experienced earlier, and the samurai's blood mingles with the paladin's on the floor below.

Trella charges past him to deal a ringing blow, but Erdrick barely notices her as he focuses utterly on the troll. In a display of swordsmanship worthy of the songs of bards, the purple dragon knight plunges his katana into the troll’s abdomen, pulls it up through his body to his right shoulder with a mighty slice, and then withdraws the blade while ripping through the troll’s neck like parchment. The troll, having suffered the greatest injury of its (admittedly short) life, reels in shock and pain, while Erdrick pauses his odd tale briefly to honor those whose training of him made this possible.

Kai reclaims one of her signature spells; her ‘suggestion’ “Your kind master can't possibly have meant to place you in so much peril. You should return to Solom and request a more reasonable assignment,” sends two mages packing.

Unfortunately, this leaves the plump mage, and he exacts a horrible revenge upon the noble samurai. Digging into his deepest fears, the drow evokes an image of the great dragon that slew his former liege Azoun reaching for him. Powerless to fight the mighty creature, and torn by more than a little guilt over his failure in his duty--though in truth he wasn't there--Erdrick watches in horror as the dragon’s phantasmal claws reach through his chest and stop his heart. With a gasp, the samurai collapses to the earth, dead. Chag opens his mouth and lets loose a mighty roar of anguish.

Quid screams, “Too much death!” and stuns the drow assembled with the sudden summoning of daylight into the region. Her summoned earth elemental chooses to manifest then as well, pummeling the troll about the head.

Calla breaks away from her position, tumbling toward the troll in an attempt to flank him. Though her efforts are clumsy, the opportunistic strike is worse, and she ends up in perfect position to strike. A swift stab plunges her dagger in the troll’s kidney, and a sharp turn insures it does maximal damage as she pulls it out, drenched in gore.

Khail strikes next, but the troll shrugs off the one blow that connects. Seemingly reverting to an earlier intellectual state, the beast snarls and pounces on the paladin, swiftly reducing him to a quivering pile of bloody flesh, barely holding to life.

Trella unleashes a snarl of her own, but her blows barely penetrate his thick skin, adding to her mounting frustration. Rhien takes a different tack, focusing his ki before lashing out at the plump mage. This time the monk succeeds, stunning and bloodying the drow.

With their leader out of commission, the remaining wizards move to flee. This marks the end of the troll's reign of terror, as Kai, the earth elemental, and finally Calla assault it in turn. The halfling's blade is the last, spearing and then drawing out the troll's still-beating heart.

Trella hurdles its body as it falls, ignoring the spiked chains that tear into exposed flesh as she runs. The goal of her charge is Erdrick's murderer, and the stunned mage does not get a chance to recover after she shatters his skull with the butt of her quarterstaff.

Rhien leaves his fallen enemy and kneels before the samurai. Expending much of the power of his gloves, the monk returns life and full health to Erdrick's torn body and shattered mind. The warrior sits up with a start as the pure white light that suffused him begins to fade, and he spits blood from his mouth as he struggles to his feet. Rhien calms him with a touch, pointing out the outcome of the battle, allowing the samurai finally to relax.

Calla spurns a similar chance at peace, dragging the troll's head off to the side. With a broad—and a little scary—smile plastered on her face, she drives the point of her corrosive dagger into the troll’s brain twice. Though the wounds she creates are grievous, the troll continues to regenerate. Stabbing down twice more while screaming “Die!” seems to do the trick, however. Its massive body jerks once, then falls still, regenerating no more. Calla wipes the gore off her blade and rises to her feet. “Good times…” she says, oddly.

Kyree returns soon after, sheepishly scratching his head and commenting, “I could have sworn Dorina was still alive.”

Quid smiles at this briefly, but Rhien can find no such mirth. Staring at the opening to the chasm, the monk says thoughtfully, “Those mages have surely told Solom what’s happened by now. I would advise that we either go to meet him now, on our own terms, before he has opportunity to ambush us again, or leave the crypts until we are ready to face him. Continuing on otherwise would seem to be foolish given his recent actions.” He looks at the dead troll meaningfully.

Trella puts an end to such caution, smiling a wicked grin and announcing, "We're going after him. Now. Stand behind me or step aside." She swipes the troll's remains like a hockey puck when she passes them and says to Erdrick, with audible admiration, "Nice work with that troll." Quid seconds the compliment; Calla gets behind the druid, cleaning her dagger as she does.

Trella corrals Rhien and Kai for planning; the two, despite some misgivings about assaulting the archmage immediately, dutifully offer opinions. How to deal with invisibility is a frequent topic, often centering on the use of Snicker's innate detection ability.

Upon hearing his name, the pseudodragon pokes his scaly snout out of Kai's garments and flaps over to perch on Rhien's shoulder. Looping his neck around so as to be able to shade his eyes with one claw, he feigns peering intently around the room. With one of his signature whinnying chuckles, he then skids over to Erdrick and bats him with mock ferocity in the knees. Kai smiles down at the tiny dragon and then, relentingly, at Erdrick. "You do good work," she admits to the knight. Snicker slinks over to Chagripor and greets him in a dragonly way.

Quid chuckles and joins the discussion, which quickly expands to include Kyree and Erdrick. The latter continues his odd manner of speech, whispering to Trella, "When I was slain, was my corpse facing the Troll?"

Trella scrunches up her face. "I was too busy trying to bash it to take note of your final pose, but I think you were." Suddenly curious she asks, "Why?"

Erdrick mumbles something about the samurai code to Trella, apparently not wanting to reveal the source of his wisdom and motivational stories. Instead of elaborating he changes the subject, offering, "The only magic I can add is the casting of light with this ring," which he promptly exhibits by summoning a glowing ball over Snicker's head. In response, the pseudodragon squints at him as if reconsidering his opinion of the warrior, then rolls his serpentine eyes and makes a big show of sheltering in the shadows under Chag. Kai clucks at her familiar in affectionate reproach of his sense of humor. Snicker snickers back from his hiding place.

Erdrick nods sagely at the tiny dragon's antics. "If there is time, I’d like to go and check up on my men."

Trella shakes her head. “Sorry big guy, no time for checking right now. It’s ass-kickin’ time. I'm gonna summon a posse of elementals, and we're going to show that bastard who's broken."

Kai cautions, "Just don't forget about his spells. They could turn things bad quickly. "I'm on it," Kyree assures; Rhien also voices his intent to do contribute in this manner.

Once the elementals have all arrived, Trella announces that she and her boys are "Rollin' like stones, baby," without much explanation. The druid seems eager to fight, and does her best to sprint up the rope of climbing to reach the inverted tower level once again.

Calla has to grab her arm roughly to make her stop, padding off through the entry arch before having to deal with Trella's glare. The halfling moves easily through an empty room and into deserted guards' quarters, finding nothing of interest to anyone not drow. Her report does not please Trella.

“My boys want to smash!” the druid exclaims, though this would not be obvious to an observer, given the elementals’ impassive miens.

The halfling holds up her hands. “Sorry, boss, but I’m pretty sure those rooms are a bust.”

Rhien strokes his chin thoughtfully. “Not entirely; we’ve slain four arcane guards so far, so there are possibly no more than six left, and three have exhausted their most potent magic.”

Quid responds, “Yay.”

Trella snaps, “Got a better idea?”

Quid looks smug. “As a matter of fact, I do.” The Waukeenar first grants herself flight, and then heightens her perceptive abilities. As soon as she does so, she sees what the others in the group cannot. “Three doors are set in the walls of the tower, covered by illusions.”

Kai immediately grants herself flight, and between the four flying and the rope of climbing, the distance to the first of the doors is soon closed. Calla moves to the door, but is dismayed by what she finds. “It’s magically sealed; I can’t get in.”

Trella is unperturbed. “Boys, smash it down.”

Though it takes a couple of blows, even the magically enhanced portal cannot stand up to the might of the posse of earth elementals, and the door splinters inwards. Trella, first to pass through, immediately is sheathed in a fog that obscures all vision beyond five feet. She sees nothing of interest in the hallway. “Quid, a little help here,” she cries, not believing her eyes.

Quid pushes forward, discovering four additional doors along the hallway, all warded as the external one. Four elemental assaults later and the apprentices' bedchambers are revealed, Spartan in decoration and absent of significant interest to the ever more impatient group.

After returning to the central tower, Trella directs her boys to take out the next highest portal without pause, and rushes through the broken portal before the last shards of wood hit the stone floor. Inside is a pair of rooms off of a short hallway. The first is dominated by a large arcane diagram traced on the floor in paint, powdered silver, and colored sand. Odors of smoke and sulfur hang in the air as if a large chemical fire had burned in here recently, and it does not take Kai's intellect to deduce that this chamber is used as a conjury. While nothing is spied within, Kyree’s sharp eyes note that the summoning circle is broken, and another enemy is mentally added to the tally.

The second room on the level sports walls covered with slate and whitened with chalk powder and arcane scrawlings. Quid deciphers them with the aid of an orison, and shares her finding that Solom must have recently been instructing his students in the intricacies of the detect scrying spell, as well as general information about scrying spells and the magical sensors they create.

Kai responds, “Well, he would know. I saw his sensor twice now in the tower. He knows we’re here, but we knew that.”

Trella slams her staff to the ground. “Let’s not keep him waiting then.” She leads the elementals back to the tower and the party gathers around the last door, making hurried final preparations for what is rightly assumed to be the deadliest battle they have thus far faced. Once they are done, Trella signals the elementals to kick down the door.

A gust of wind emanates from the now-open portal, powerful enough to send flying party members reeling. They struggle to maintain control as they gaze into the opulent chamber revealed, so different from the rest of the tower. An impressive throne made of heavy-looking black metal looms on a high dais on the far side of the room from the door. Though most see it as unoccupied, Quid spies the hated form of Solom Ned’razak lounging atop it invisibly, though he is anything but indolent as he prepares a spell. A mere foot in front of him, below his position, is a shimmering sphere of oscillating prismatic hues. To the right of the sphere is another invisible form, which appears to Quid to be a large gargoyle with powerful batlike wings and thick, green skin. Its hands and feet sport razor-sharp claws, and its head is vaguely canine, with small webbed ears and horns.

To the left of the sphere are the two quite visible mages from the previous battle. They do not look particularly thrilled to be where they are, but neither is shaking with fear. In front of the sphere, roughly ten feet from the doorway, is another demon-like creature, also visible, standing nearly ten feet tall and clad in hideous coal-black armor. The only hint of humanity underneath the metal is a tusked mouth visible behind the stylized fangs of the armor. The figure holds a cruel-looking spiked chain in both hands, while a large shield dances in front of him.

Finally, five feet from the door are five arcane guards arrayed in a half-circle around those assembled. The three central ones are visible and familiar to the group; the two on the outside are seen only by Quid, and appear to be the two carrying the wands the party met earlier on this level.

Having finished his preparations while the party members right themselves, Solom rises to his feet. With a sneer marring his handsome features, the archmage pronounces, “The mistake you have made in returning shall be your last.” He then begins casting.

 

[htetickrt]

Solom Ned’razak

Apologizing for being extremely late in posting is getting to be a bad habit. The game from which this is drawn is still in hiatus as we all continue to be very busy, but I do plan on catching up both here and there. Really. Anyway, here's the big bad fight with Solom. I've included it in its entirety; I hope this makes up for the delay at least a little.

Solom Ned’razak​

Kyree clutches the enchanted rope tightly, his hands white from the effort to hold on against the winds buffeting his upper body. Rhien slowly begins focusing his ki to transport himself between space, but stops at the urgent sound of Snicker’s telepathic voice in his mind. Quid’s desire to transport the monk, the ranger, and whomever else she can get into the room is made manifest, and Rhien waits patiently for his chance.

Braced for the expected impact of the archmage’s fury, the party is somewhat surprised that it is not he who acts first. Instead the gaunt, black-clad drow’s spindly fingers twist and point, summoning ethereal molasses to counteract the party’s quickened movements. This elicits a sharp curse from Quid.

The arcane guards act next, focusing their assault on the rocky exteriors of Trella’s “boys.” Lightning and spiked chains send chunks of stone tumbling away in equal measures, and the bolts singe Khail and Erdrick on the way out.

Though the two warriors ignore the minor electrical burns, they cannot so easily brush off the sudden bestial roar emitted by the central figure in the room: the heavily armored spiked chain wielder. Raising his chain—twice as large as his pupils’—as the shout still echoes off the walls, the large humanoid exhibits his astounding reach as he batters the greater elemental about the body, putting his arcane disciples to shame with both the accuracy and potency of each strike. The lightning that coruscates over the chain seems almost excessive as he pulverizes the earth elemental into shards of stone with three lashes of it. Not satisfied as the inner planar being fades away, he continues his assault on the next closest creature, knocking huge chunks out of that one as well. From inside the demon head of the armor, a coarse voice shouts, “More!”

On Trella’s orders, the most recently injured earth elemental moves to interpose itself between the swirling winds and the party, in the process thrice bringing one huge fist down upon the creature that brought it such pain. Twice the humanoid’s dancing shield deflects blows that would have crushed a large house, but the elemental’s final strike catches the chain wielder in the shoulder. A tusked smile behind his helmet is the being’s only response.

A second elemental tries to do the same, but finds itself unable to come close enough to strike. Changing targets smoothly, it bashes the closest arcane guard once, as he is apparently not so warded.

Still cursing, Quid reactivates her boots and transports much of the party into the room. As she appears next to the demon, she searches for the proper words to express her dismay. All she can come up with is: “F***.”

Rhien and Kyree share a look fraught with meaning, knowing somehow that this could be their last battle together. On silent agreement, Kyree takes a step back and turns toward the chain-wielder, while Rhien moves toward the throne.

The elf draws his bow back, wincing in pain as the chain-wielder again evinces his superior reach, brutally beating Kyree about the head with his weapon. Electricity is absorbed by protective magic, but the archer has no such defense against either the physical damage or the flood of negative energy that combined render him badly wounded from only a single blow. Bravely holding to his feet despite the pain, the archer fires a full barrage of arrows at his foe. Though the first misses, the second and third miraculously find gaps in his foe’s full plate, and the fourth sails straight and true through the opening in his helmet, taking him through his cruelly grinning mouth.

Rhien smiles slightly at his friend as he moves over to the base of the throne. By closing his eyes and letting his other senses expand, the monk is able to pinpoint the location of the archmage. Drawing his fist back, he waits patiently to disrupt whatever magic Solom plans to cast.

Khail spurs Steve into an immediate gallop, and the celestial warhorse bursts into the room in a fury, sending arcane guards and elementals alike scattering in an effort not to be overborne. The paladin ignores them, galloping toward the chain-wielder with his head near his steed’s and his holy blade parallel to the horse’s flank. Khail remains in this position until an instant before reaching the large warrior, whereupon he explodes into action, slicing into the barbarian’s sternum with awesome force. Blood sprays from the vicious wound, tinting the warhorse's hindquarters crimson, but the burly humanoid does not fall.

Flying outside the scene of such violence, Kai’s bad feeling about the battle grows. Nevertheless, she does what she can to aid her friends, illuminating Solom and two lesser mages via motes of golden glitter. In a display of small favors, the apprentices throw their hands to their faces, apparently blinded as well as revealed. Kai smiles wanly.

Erdrick flies Chag into the room then, surveying the battlefield with an experienced eye. Noting that the arcane guards refused to stand in Steve’s way, he directs Chag to charge over to the corner nearest Quid, Trella, and the demon while seeking to inspire courage with the words of Master Ittei: “If one were to say what is to do good, in a single word it would be to endure suffering. Not enduring is bad without exception.”

Trella gapes at him. “Yeah, just what we need: more suffering,” she snarls, but feels emboldened despite herself. Erdrick calls Chag to a halt after the arcane guards have predictably dived out of the way, but instead of beginning a charge, the purple dragon reaches one mailed hand into a belt pouch, withdrawing a tiny black sphere which he then casts toward the opposite corner of the room. The marble explodes upon impact, expanding into a wave of force that buffets several foes, yet fails to encase any in the sphere of force that is a possible outcome of the item’s use.

Calla creeps up to the top of the rope and peers inside. Realizing that the elementals blocking the wind from tossing her aside like a leaf will not last much longer, the rogue seizes her chance and tumbles into the room, tossing a dagger as she rolls. Unlike the display of acrobatics, however, her aim is poor, and does not strike hated drow flesh.

Trella provides covering fire, scorching those in the room’s center with a column of flames that incinerates the gaunt mage and burns two other figures. Pleased, she directs the lesser elementals to pummel the nearest arcane guards, and they respond with stony aplomb.

The demon turns on Quid, though only she can see this, and attempts to dig into her with vicious claws. Tymora aids the Waukeenar as both swipes are weak and clumsy, and Quid readies herself to return the demon to whence it came. Kai, who sees the outer planar being now that its invisibility is gone, immediately recognizes it as a nycaloth, for what little good this does her at the moment. Before any further action can be taken, the archmage finally reaches the conclusion of his magic.

Rhien senses this, and focuses all of his energy on disrupting the drow’s spell. The monk’s fist lashes out, but layers of spell protections prove sufficient to deflect the blow. Solom chuckles at the monk’s efforts. “Watch how it’s done, half-breed,” he laughs, and then releases a torrent of fire. Four flaming spheres, centered on Erdrick, explode into small balls of fire; these are instantly followed by a bolt of ravening flames that targets Quid before splitting off to lash out at the rest of the party. “Enjoy that, b*tch of Waukeen?” the archmage asks, quite unnecessarily. Quid glares at him as she takes in the complete destruction of the elemental horde. Horrible burns cover Trella’s snarling lips.

In the center of the room, the mighty barbarian surveys the battle. Not wanting his allegiance to Solom to result in his demise, he dips his left hand into his belt, withdrawing a potion that he swiftly quaffs. As a minor cut closes, he whirls the chain above his head, focusing his ire on Khail. In a thick, guttural voice, he says in heavily accented Common, “When you see Torm, tell him that Bargh sent you.” Then his chain descends upon Khail’s body.

The paladin raises his shield to counter, but the barbarian is simply too strong for such a tactic. The unholy spiked chain pierces Khail’s groin, armpit, and finally throat, sending a perverse mixture of unholy energy and electricity cascading through his torn body. The third blow is enough to send his spirit flying from his battered and bloody corpse, which slides off of Steve to thump upon the floor. Solom exults, “One.”

Not quite done yet, Bargh spins dexterously on his heel, bringing his weapon to bear on Calla. Twice she is struck, surviving largely by virtue of her resistance to the darker aspects of the weapon. Still, the rogue is not in good shape, and she reflexively holds her hands over her stomach to keep her internal organs where they belong.

Seeing his friend fall yet again, Kyree knows that the barbarian cannot be permitted to hold to life. Though the archer knows the act will cost him, he draws his bow, nocks an arrow, and lets it fly. The barbarian’s chain slashes a deep gash across his cheek in response, but Kyree is undaunted and releases the rest of a barrage. Bargh stares down at the four additional arrows now quivering along his body. “Is that all you've got, elf?” Kyree blanches.

Hunched over in pain from the sudden onslaught of flames, Quid clenches her fist in determination and anger. "Alright Mr. Pretty-boy, if that's how you're going to play…." Tuning out the vagaries of battle through intense concentration, she imparts a powerful abjuration unto herself. Then, intoning, "Begone you foul unnatural negative externality," she lays hands upon the nycaloth. As the spell harmlessly dissipates against its skin, she launches into a tirade of profanity, pausing only to heal herself somewhat in preparation for the carnage to come.

Steve charges the one who slew his companion, lashing out with hooves and teeth, but his wild attacks merely add confusion to an already chaotic battlefield.

Kai turns over possible tactics in her mind at a pace appropriate to her genius-level intelligence. She quickly comes to the conclusion that the archmage must be stopped at any cost, and prepares accordingly. Calla and Erdrick choose to wait as well, though only the former’s intent appears to be the same as the sorceress’.

Growling, Trella closes the distance to Quid and heals a few of the Waukeenar’s burns. Before the priest can thank her, though, the yugoloth drives its claws into Quid’s chest, and Trella receives only a spurt of blood in the face for her effort.

Rhien notes the state of the party—particularly Calla’s and Erdrick’s battered forms—and opts for succor over offense. Exhausting the last of his gloves’ healing, he purges those still living of all wounds and ailments. Solom stares through avarice-tinted orbs and whispers intensely, “I will have that magic.” He immediately begins the spell designed to accomplish this goal.

Calla and Kai assault him in turn. Though Calla’s blade—aimed at the drow’s kidney—is turned aside at the last moment, Kai’s bolt flies true, and is enough to cause the archmage to lose concentration.

On the first spell, that is. The second releases a multihued fan of light that blankets the room, with all save Calla in its area of effect.

Trella feels pressure on both mind on body, but exerts will and reflexes to the extent that she is barely harmed. Kyree leaps out of the way of an electrical bolt, suffering no injury. Rhien manages to avoid being turned to stone.

This is the extent of the group’s luck. Kai’s normally hearty constitution is taxed to its limit and beyond by a poison the likes of which she has never known. The beautiful sorceress races against time, bravely attempting to finish her abjuration as she feels her heart slowly stop beating. By the barest of margins she manages to do so, and with her last breath attempts to strip the archmage of his myriad protective magics. Though she does not learn of her success, Rhien feels the wreath of flames vanish from Solom’s body. Unfortunately, so does the glitter making him visible. Snicker feels Kai’s demise and emerges from her cloak, emitting a high-pitched keen that is a mixture of sorrow and rage.

Quid starts in shock, but her movement is soon arrested by the growing spread of stone across her lithe form. The Waukeenar begins, but does not finish her curse of Solom as the transformation completes, leaving her an inert stone statue. Nearby, the celestial warhorse Steve suffers the same fate.

Erdrick’s mind is assaulted as Trella’s was, but to far greater effect. As his mount suffers the effects of the same poison Kai experienced and expires under him, the purple dragon’s mind simply snaps under the weight of Solom’s potent magic. Lost in a confusion from which he will not escape without mystical aid, Erdrick lashes out at the nearest creature to him, which happens to be an injured arcane guard. Insanity has apparently not dulled his skill with the blade, and he neatly dispatches the drow with two expert strikes. Moving with practiced skill, he spins on the next nearest one, slamming his blade into the drow’s mithral shirt with such force that the vibrations induced cause it to ring out for long after the drow has fallen to the earth, unconscious. Finally, making his sensei proud, the quite batty Erdrick advances toward Bargh and takes a couple of swings at him as well. Unfortunately, this time he fails to make contact.

Trella screams then, her wrathful cry providing a potent counterpoint to Snicker’s wailing. Rhien stares at his unharmed fists in anguish, wondering if he has truly fallen so far from Ilmater’s grace that he must continuously watch the suffering of those he cares about while remaining unharmed himself. Calla raises her dagger once again, keeping a cold eye on Solom’s back. Kyree calmly nocks an arrow, prepared to end this one way or another.

Solom Ned’razak, archmage of Szith Morcane, smiles cruelly, avoiding clumsy strikes from Calla and Rhien as he calmly enters the safety of his prismatic sphere. “Two and three,” he chuckles after his retreat.

Two arcane guards back further into a corner of the chamber, readying their magic to disrupt that of others. The third speaks words of magic with a rapid tongue before lashing Rhien in the rear once with his spiked chain. Far from distressing him, however, the injury seems to bring the monk back into focus, and doubt gives way to resolve. His sight flickers across the landscape, looking for some opening to seize.

Near him, the half-ogre only has eyes for Erdrick. Again and again he whips the samurai with his chain, leaving him barely recognizable under the blood and bruising. Yet, much to the dismay of Bargh, Erdrick lives, and the barbarian’s fourth blow is uncharacteristically wide. Unable to withdraw a potion without swift retaliation from Erdrick, Bargh settles for ending his life. A fifth strike crushes his skull beneath his helmet, dropping his now-lifeless body to the floor in a heap. As Erdrick falls, Bargh almost casually turns to Trella and scores her flesh with deep welts, though the druid resists the electricity. Solom laughs from within his sphere. “Four.”

Kyree’s attention never wavers as he takes one final step back, finally placing him out of the long reach of Bargh, though the action places him within Solom’s bedchambers. Bargh mocks his strategic retreat. “Scared?”

Kyree's arrow answers for him, skimming the barbarian's armor and somehow finding a gap in the knee. The wound it causes is minor, but sufficient, and the mighty half-ogre finally falls from the combined weight of his numerous injuries. The archer stares thoughtfully at the ring of gore surrounding the body, then slays two of Bargh's pupils with a trio of precision strikes. “Perhaps I was,” he finally answers, “but so should you have been.”

Just then a thought hits him. “Trella; Stone; Solom,” he passes along to the druid via Snicker, and his idea is immediately comprehended. Moments later a hemispherical wall encases the prismatic sphere; all are surprised when Solom does not come tumbling out before it forms. Apparently, he is satisfied where he is for now.

The nycaloth snarls then, the normally aggressive sound tinged with a hint of amusement. It takes flight and leaps toward Rhien, attempting both to strike and to grapple the monk. It fails at both as its claws come nowhere near the frantically dodging man.

The monk shares a look with the rogue, and the two agree silently that they can't wait for Solom's emergence forever. Instead they flank the yugoloth and rapidly eliminate any pleasure it might have been deriving from the fight with a series of blows and cuts that leave it stunned, torn, and dripping a foul ichor that sizzles angrily upon striking the stone earth.

With the majority of the combatants eliminated, the battlefield situation is clarified. The last arcane guard fires a volley of missiles at Trella, which she completely ignores, not even deigning to glance at their author. Kyree eliminates the threat for her, ending the chain wielders' presence in the melee with missiles of his own.

Suddenly and quite unexpectedly, the blind mage screams, “No!” and charges mindlessly toward the closest person to him, which happens to be Calla. His blind flailing misses her nimble form, but his presence does present another potential complication.

Trella ignores him as well, nearly frothing at the mouth as she manifests her staff and charges the nycaloth. Her aim and her armor’s potential work in perfect synchrony as her staff contacts the yugoloth’s head…and knocks it clean off. As it bounces off wall and floor grotesquely, the body collapses, remaining on the plane to which it was called. Were Trella fully rational at the moment, she might take some comfort in permanently destroying a creature of evil, but as it is she merely looks around for her next target.

Freed of their proximal foe, Rhien and Calla return to waiting for the archmage to exit. Unfortunately, it is not he who returns first, but rather an earth elemental which phases through the wall of stone to bull rush Rhien. The monk attempts to push back, but he is simply no match for the large elemental and its three tons of weight. Rhien is shoved nearly forty feet away, upending a table and scattering books across Solom’s library in the process. Realizing that there is now no way he can get to Solom in time to disrupt his concentration, the monk beats his fists upon the elemental, hoping to escape his rocky adversary. The monk’s blows are potent, and nearly sufficient to render the elemental to rubble, but not quite. It maintains its position, seeming to threaten to push Rhien back through the very walls of the tower.

Calla curses the loss of her flanking partner, particularly as an entire ten-foot region of the wall of stone suddenly vanishes. She springs into action immediately, acting on Snicker’s description of the mage’s location, but her dagger barely glances off of the archmage’s cloak. Solom smiles—a gesture lost to all save Snicker—and suddenly a tremendous bebilith looms over the frightened Calla. Though rationally she knows that it is probably an illusion, the rogue cannot master her fear, and her heart skips a beat when it touches her. Pain courses through her small form, but she is hearty, and avoids Erdrick’s fate from earlier in the day. Solom’s smile vanishes quickly, and he flies over to the door and out of the room.

With only one real target left, Kyree must trust in luck to guide his arrows. The archer toys with the fletching of one while waiting for Snicker’s order to fire. Meanwhile, a tiny part of Trella’s mind contemplates casting a spell, but the rest is consumed with the need to hurt those who have taken so much from her. With a thought her form shifts to that of an immense dire bear, and she lets her nose guide her to the archmage, intending to smash his skull in as soon as possible.

The blind mage, lacking the telepathic urgings of the nycaloth, decides to sit down for a while, sinking into self-pity with astonishing rapidity for a drow.

Back in the library, the earth elemental slams Rhien into the bookshelf standing against the opposite wall. Rhien kicks out once, smashing the elemental to dust, and then makes all the haste he can muster over to Trella and his desired foe.

A moment later, Snicker gives his signal. Calla and Kyree let loose their projectiles a second apart, looking to disrupt all of the archmage's magic. They are partially successful; Calla’s dagger misses wide, but somehow Kyree’s arrow makes it through, cutting past numerous layers of protection to strike deep into the archmage’s chest.

Solom glares at Kyree in shock as one spell trickles off his lips, but he recovers quickly enough to bathe the remaining group in frigid cold. It has far less of an effect than he had hoped, however, and for the first time he entertains the notion that he might in fact lose.

This is sufficient to alter his plans, and he holds off his foes with a jet of flame while escaping to a lower floor. Again they surprise him, and rake his back as he departs.

Kyree runs to the doorway of the third level, peering down, but can see no one to fight. He exchanges a look with Calla as Trella and Rhien fly after Solom with Snicker in tow.

The latter pair finds naught but a discarded potion vial, and immediately turns back. They make it nearly all the way before slamming into an invisible wall that now blocks their forward movement.

Calla wheels to face the interior of the room after watching her companions denied access; the rogue knows a trap when she sees it. Kyree picks up on this, and his sharp eyes spot motion as the archmage begins casting another spell. Unfortunately, this time his rapidly-fired arrow misses, and the room is abruptly dropped into utter darkness.

Trella feels at the invisible wall filled with inky blackness with her hands, quickly confirming that the wall of force is of the hemispherical variety. Getting an idea, she uses her staff to call a huge earth elemental, which she orders (via pointing, growling, and gesturing profusely) to smash its way through the stone floors between levels so she can get through. Rhien chooses to wait with her, taking the opportunity to close a few of his own wounds.

Inside the wall, the combatants lash out into the darkness. Lightning and more solid projectiles fly, doing minimal injury to those struck, before the three take up new positions, looking for an advantage.

Outside, Trella rages impotently against the wall, and angrily calls a second elemental to help the first. Together they begin making swift progress through the thick stone. Rhien closes his eyes and meditates on suffering.

Kyree and Calla hear Solom begin to run, and they fire at the source of the movement. Both miss, and suddenly Calla feels delicate drow hands grasp her tunic and begin to push her in the direction of the prismatic sphere. She resists, and were it not for the high stakes, the contest of strength between the two might seem comical. There is nothing funny about the outcome, however, as Solom uses the advantage of size to shove her through all seven layers of the sphere. Fire, electricity, and acid assail her, but she twists and turns her body and avoids damage from each. Poison wracks her body, but her constitution expels it after a mighty effort. Finally, though, the halfling’s luck runs out. Her body begins turning to stone upon touching the fifth layer, her mind shatters on the sixth, and both are sent to another plane at the seventh and last. Suddenly lacking resistance, Solom collapses to the ground inside his sphere, cackling with glee. “Five!” he screams, earning him a futile shot from Kyree.

Trella releases an anguished moan, and waits against the ceiling of the lower level for her servants to do their work.

Kyree hears the elementals, but can do little but continues his deadly game with Solom. He fires when he hears the archmage emerge, striking true once; the elf is struck by ten mystic missiles in return. Undaunted he continues his assault, and this time hears the thunk of two arrows. Again ten missiles blast shallow craters in his flesh in response, and he despairs that he will eventually be the loser of this game.

Kyree is saved for the moment when the elementals finally finish their task. The floor five feet from both archer and mage vanishes abruptly in a cloud of dust, allowing Trella the dire bear to burst through. She easily scents the foul odor of the drow, and furiously pounds him with her opposable staff. Rhien follows, though he fares less well.

Surrounded, Solom dips into his nearly depleted spell repertory in an attempt to end the battle; the gout of acid he releases burns, but fails to do the job. Activating his wand yet again proves more effective, and the five missiles it fires are enough to send Trella into unconsciousness. This time, Solom does not verbalize the body count.

This is little comfort to Kyree and Rhien, as neither they nor the elementals manage more than marginal success in their counterattack, and afterward the elf is left reeling upon being on the receiving end of another barrage of missiles.

Rhien utters a prayer to Ilmater, hoping that Erdrick's earlier speech proves correct. The monk moves in for a grapple attempt, and this time he manages to take hold of Solom's forearms, overcoming the mage's desperation with superior strength.

Solom snarls and speaks a single word, vanishing. He reappears in front of his sphere, whence he launches yet another barrage of missiles at Kyree, simultaneous with the latter's firing of a volley of arrows. Three of the archer's projectiles hit, the last stuck quivering in the drow's chest. Solom, however, indeed wins in the end as Kyree's body, riddled with small wounds, fails. The elf collapses to the floor, barely clinging to life.

Solom wheezes, forcing air out of injured lungs through blood-flecked lips. He stares hatefully at Rhien during the barest of pauses that separates the actions of the two. Then there is no more time for thought, as the monk is upon him.

Rhien's hands again dig into his forearms, but this time there is no more magic with which to escape. Solom fires his wand off twice at point blank range, but Rhien's innate resistance is proof against the lesser magic of the wand. When the monk's hands begin to squeeze, causing injury, the great Archmage of Szith Morcane does the only thing he can think to: he jerks free with a great effort and retreats to his prismatic sphere.

For an instant Rhien contemplates charging in after him, but abandons that idea quickly in favor of forcing Trella's expiring form to down a potent curative draught.

She is up in a flash, appraising the field with an intellect as bestial as her form. Noting only a blind mage available to strike, she pounces, and tears him to chunks with tooth and claw.

Rhien turns his head from the grisly sight and shouts, “Trella!”

This earns the dire bear's attention, and for a moment her ire. But the monk's gentle demeanor, even in the midst of this carnage, calms her slightly, and his gesture at Kyree's fallen form brings her back to herself. The druid resumes her usual shape and lets a healing circle flow from her battered body, reviving Kyree.

The elf sits up with a groan. “I’m still alive?” He sounds somewhat surprised.

A voice cuts him off from within the sphere, as the archmage pleads for his life. “I can help you. We can make a deal.”

Trella considers it not for an instant, as her delicate emotional state tips swiftly back into rage. “Your sphere won’t last forever, coward. I’ll rip off your head and feast on your brain.” Kyree groans and whispers a spell of healing.

Solom abandons his efforts at negotiation and charges out of his sphere, wand ready. The decimated party leaps to the attack one final time. Kyree embeds another arrow in drow flesh; Trella grabs the mage by the arms. Solom unloads ten missiles into Trella’s stomach.

Trella reels back, letting go. Kyree fires one last arrow, puncturing Solom’s left eye. The archmage gasps, and finally collapses. Trella falls to her knees, and tries hard not to cry.

[To be continued…]