Wizardru's Story Hour (updated 11/21)

[Zad]

The Shadow of Winter Chapter 4

The Shadow of Winter - Chapter 4

OOC Notes:
Exp is 4885.

I have never seen an entire room of d20’s abandon people like ours did.

Loot:
The Staff of Eringlin (staff of life, 50 charges)
Ring of protection +4
Ring of Spell Storing (currently empty)
Scarab of Protection
Two gilded brass hoops:

Greater Ring Gates of Orcus

These always come in pairs-two iron rings, each about 56 inches in diameter. The rings must be within 1000 miles of each other to function. Whatever is put through one ring comes out the other, and up to 250 pounds of living material can be transferred each day or up to 2500 pounds of unliving material (Objects only partially pushed through do not count.) For the purposes of this device, an undead creature is considered unliving material.
This useful device allows for instantaneous transport of items, messages, and even attacks. A character can reach through to grab things near the other ring, or even stab a weapon through if so desired. Alternatively, a character could stick his head through to look around. A spellcaster could even cast a spell through a ring gate. A Small character can make an Escape Artist check (DC 13) to slip through. Creatures of Tiny, Diminutive, or Fine
size can pass through easily. Each ring has a "entry side" and an "exit side," both marked with appropriate symbols.


This Week’s Adventure:

As soon as the winds began breaking, we knew we were getting close, and began layering on every protective spell we could think of. For my part, I was just glad that I could get back into the air again. After the spells were done, we advanced further into a field next to a farmhouse.

And almost by design, the wind seemed to ease again, and through the black snow we could see him. A creature armored in solid ice, its skeleton visible beneath. It moved deliberately and slowly but with an incredible speed, as if it was slowing itself purposefully but it still left blurs as it moved. In its body were dark expanses that seemed to draw in the light and feed on it, casting off reflections like the spent husk of a fruit. Around its head was a ring of black flame, dancing and flickering in the wind. The arms ended in long talons of black ice, licks of black flame playing across them. And we could feel its hunger – it craved our heat. It stood there, just waiting, mocking, and laughing. “Sweet flesssshlings…” its voice cracked across the wind “…knew you would come. Feed me with your warmth. You cannot harm me, but you can feeeeed me.”

As it stared at us, a chill settled in my heart. I’ve fought dragons and druids and twisted creations and demons. But this… this was different. It was unlike anything we had heard of, let alone faced. And a dark voice inside me said that it would take at least one of our lives before it fell, if at all. Fortunately I don’t listen to that voice very much, and instead thought more about the tactics – a gift of the Hateful Wars. If this thing proved too much for us, then we would need to withdraw and quickly, and I kept that very high in my mind. And there was one other small ray of hope…

However fast it was, it wasn’t as fast as me. I smirked thinking about how many other creatures with that confidence we have destroyed, and tried hard to believe in it. I released five arrows before the creature could do any more. Enchanted arrows that would have punched deep into any protected creature, these shots just bounced off the icy armor. And Glacerage hissed and smiled.

[OOC: Ok. There’s something you have to understand about this game – each of us have their respective strengths. Kayleigh’s is that she will hit, and she will do a lot of damage. Her usual round of fire is +40/+40/+35/+30/+25 and it’s the running joke that the numbers are usually so high it’s not worth checking.

But not today. On 5 d20’s I rolled two 4’s, two 3’s and a 2. Unknown to us, this was the indicator of how the entire night would be. You have never seen a group of people roll suck like we did that night. All night long. Attack rolls, SR, you name it, we couldn’t roll above an 8. It was very disheartening.]

I had one more shot to make thanks to the Mass Haste, and I aimed it carefully. The shot hit GlaceRage in the throat, but the flaming arrow shattered on the icy armor, a small hiss and crack the only lasting effect.

GlaceRage just laughed and tore two handfuls of black ice from the ground. The ice stretched like taffy in his hands and he hurled the ice at us and it stretched into a dome of black ice covering Aethramyr Thorkeld and Bolo. Scorch and Valanthe, both invisible, were outside the dome. GlaceRage then charged at Dravot, his next intention clear.

Valanthe conjured up a thoqqua, hoping the heat would help. Scorch tossed an exploratory fireball, hoping to test the effect as well as clear a hole in the wall of ice. The wall was badly weakened, but GlaceRage raised a lazy hand and the blast just rolled around him. He was immune to the spell. Thorkeld spurred his lion forward and brought his hammer into the wall hard and the ice shattered away. Bolo conjured an elder fire elemental which moved to swat at GlaceRage but even the quick elemental couldn’t grasp the wight. Aethramyr charged from the ice dome on Crescent and tried a dispel magic but failed. As he moved closer, the cold surrounding GlaceRage hit him like a hammer. Scorch ordered his dominated wolf into the fray but it just snapped ineffectually at the wight. Dravot considered his options and tried a dispel which also failed, and then let loose a sunbeam but it just scattered off the ice armor.

[At this time we opened the envelope containing Wizardru’s first round spell predictions. He missed wildly.]

Hoping to get better results, I shifted to firing multiple arrows per draw, and fired two volleys at GlaceRage but none of them could find their target. This was not a good sign. The wight hissed and slashed at Dravot and the wolf. The wight impacted on Dravot’s fire shield and left a wound on Dravot. Where the wounds opened on the dark wolf, black fire – blightfire - played on the beast and it whimpered, its energy being sucked away. As the wounds opened on the wolf, GlaceRage fed and what little damage may have been done faded. But the wolf did not have Pelor’s grace – as the wounds opened on Dravot and the fire hit, it was as quickly quenched as light played out and snuffed the flame, and Dravot was unaffected by the blightfire. Scorch tried a Bigby’s hand, but GlaceRage hissed at the hand and it just fell back from him. Thorkeld closed on the wight and made contact but it seemed had little direct effect. Bolo tried to cast fire seeds but this too was defeated by GlaceRage. Aethramyr managed to land one solid blow but this was the most hopeful thing we’d seen so far. Nothing else so far had any noticeable effect. Dravot loosed two sunbeams but neither one had any result.

At this point I began considering retreat more highly. I had the disturbing feeling that GlaceRage was just toying with us, and had yet to even really try. I fired two more volleys, and one of them landed. The arrows were largely ignored but the flames sent up small spurts of steam – at least it was something, but I worried it was not enough.

GlaceRage still seemed amused by the little fleshthings, and with deliberate dismissal of us, turned and clawed at the Bigby’s hand. Its claws tore through the hand and in a flash the spell dissipated. I think it was hoping we’d run after seeing this. (And believe me I considered it.)

We continued pressing the attack on GlaceRage but to little avail. Blades and spells were both turned aside. Bolo shifted to the form of a gold dragon and slashed a claw out and found some purchase but again, the wound was small. Aethramyr tried to lay hands on the wight, but it resisted his efforts as easily as the others.

[The bad rolls continue – SR rolls keep failing, and melee attacks are barely landing.]

GlaceRage, who was by now completely surrounded by all manner of man and summoned creature, dimension door’ed a short distance away. Perhaps he wanted to try another wall of ice to amuse himself more. But then the tide of fortune turned.

Scorch fired a sickly green ray straight at the wight’s chest. GlaceRage sneered with contempt, certain it would fail as everything else had. The beam did waver for a moment, but then sank into the icy flesh of the winter wight, and in slow motion the green light spread across his body, and left nothing behind but dust. GlaceRage shrieked with rage as the light rolled across him, and a moment later, he was destroyed. All that was left was his howl on the wind.

The wolf Scorch had dominated looked terrible – it could barely stand and it looked at Scorch, about to ask for something. But then it collapsed onto the snow, and its flesh sank into its bones as licks of black fire played across the fur. I whispered a prayer to Corellian that it wasn’t any of us.

The storm’s master was broken, and so too followed the storm. Bolo was able to reestablish control of the weather, and let a natural snowfall run its course. As the snow eased, Valanthe and I could make out something near some haystacks piled next to the barn nearby. We found two gilded brass hoops, four feet in diameter. I’m still not sure what they are. Nearby we found a set of holy relics – Dravot said that the men on this farm were priests of Pelor fled from Hexpools and they must have carried these artifacts with them. There was a staff – The Staff of Eringlin – it had the power to heal and raise the dead. With it were some other smaller treasures that we collected carefully.

Dravot and Scorch made provisions to secure the dust of the winter wight – we were fearful that even the dust could be a potent weapon. Once that was done, we returned to Brindinford, hopeful that we had broken the force behind these attacks.

While we were gone, the town had been assaulted by more black winter wolves. There were not signs of a breach – apparently the defenders had held out. But on the parapets was a thin, gaunt fellow. He was very pale and was wearing rags. Dravot and Aethramyr sensed both evil and undead from him. He was half sitting, leaning against a half spear. He looked like he might have in life but he was clearly not alive. The guards in the area were aware of him but avoiding him, which was somewhat odd. However there was no mistake as to his nature, and I didn’t want an ambush. I asked if anyone knew why I shouldn’t start firing, and neither Dravot nor Aethramyr could find reason not to. I had drawn an arrow and was ready to fire when Aethramyr said to hold – the man had changed somehow. His spear was now a mace, and he was stocky with facial hair. He was still undead but no longer evil. I started hard at him and raised an eyebrow, but lowered my bow, and we went to see what this thing was.

When approached, he claimed to be from the Temple of Wee Jas, sent to aid the town. He was horribly polite, and after our last battle, horribly lucky I thought that he shifted when he did. Dravot seemed completely satisfied with his explanation and so therefore it would have to do. While they conversed another man came from a nearby building – he was quite tall and completely bald. His skin was covered in tattoos and carvings, and he seems to be steaming in the cold snow. With him was an apprentice who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but where he was. Scorch was the one who started at seeing this man, and immediately took him off to the side and spoke to him at length. If there was an explanation, I never heard it.

Most of us accompanied Dravot as he met with the followers of Wee Jas. The elder looked like a penitent monk, wearing a skull cap made from an actual skull. The temple was attacked as well, but the fools sent undead against the worshippers of Wee Jas. However this attack delayed them from coming to the aid of the town. The clerics arrived just before the attack of the winter wolves and were likely instrumental in the defeat of the wolves. They thought it was Kargoth’s doing.

I lost track of the conversation after this, as it was largely Dravot’s matter to tend to and I did not wish to interfere. I was surprised to hear that the priests offered a fair sum of cash for the remains of the wight. They were interested in them for study and would be content with whatever preparations were needed to remove their potency.

We separated to check on various matters including the defense of the town. We thought the attack was over but couldn’t be sure. There was also the matter of the sealed primal creature below. Bolo communed with nature, seeking any other powerful attackers. He didn’t find any but did find that there were more bulettes, dead in tunnels under the city.

There was still the matter of Venn nagging at me. Dravot had prepared a sending and we had hoped to contact one of the Circle of Eight. We settled on Mordenkainen as he had separated the theerparts initially. Dravot sent “We posses a theerpart. Needs better safeguarding. Please advise.”

The reply was less than we might have hoped for: “Who is this? I’m busy right now doing AAAAARRRGGGG.” So much for any aid there.

Fine. So be it. If the circle is indifferent, and the dragons as well, then to hell with them both. I made a mental note to dismiss the idea of working with the circle in the future.

We decided to check on the seal below and determine the situation there. Dravot’s brother Gerrin came along and we navigated quickly through the family crypts, going ever further downward. Soon we were past areas where either of them was familiar, but we had little trouble finding the way, knowing what we were looking for. There was a passage that was carefully hidden and behind it was a long spiral staircase going downward. It was covered in symbols – that of Pelor, Sehanine and Heironious alternating down the entire length. A corridor at the bottom let out into a small room with a mirror spanning the length of the wall – some kind of wall of force.

Bolo, unable to resist investigating until Valanthe had finished her examination, turned into an earth elemental and stepped into the wall. There was a quick flash of light and Bolo was gone. Valanthe was more than a bit frustrated with him, and I suspect was hoping he wasn’t dead so she could get good and mad at him later. We heard from him quickly – apparently he had been plane shifted to the Beastlands.

Valanthe did some careful examinations of the wall and area. We suspected that perhaps it would take three – a follower of Sehanine, Pelor and Heironius to lower the wall. But we weren’t sure we could raise it again. One thing was clear – the seal was apparently intact, and that’s all we wanted to check. We withdrew from the crypt without further incident.

Scorch and I made a quick trip to the Beastlands to retrieve our wayward druid while Valanthe and Aethramyr investigated the tunnels made by the bulettes. There were many criss-crossing tunnels as the beasts apparently searched for something. (Under who’s direction? Are they smart enough to do this themselves?) At the bottom they found a dead bulette. There was no sign of physical violence to cause its death and it was turned around in the passage it had been digging. Behind the earholes was the symbol of orcus. It seems to have died from a plague or advanced disease. Searching other tunnels they found two more dead bulettes in much the same state.

Just after Scorch and I returned with Bolo, the guards began yelling out. From the sky to the west there were two dragons heading for town. When I rose in the air, I could see they were bronze and I eased. But the beats were badly hurt, flying erratically and having trouble. They both overshot the town and crashed into the riverside and lay breathing heavily. We ran out quickly and Dravot and Bolo healed each of them. They were covered in twigs and thorns and they had clearly seen some battle with Gulthias horrors.

Once healed they quickly recovered their wits. One of them was the Brazen and shifted to a more compact form. He apologized for not arriving sooner but they had engaged a force of 20 gulthites on the march some 300 miles away.

He had a great deal to say so we moved somewhere more private. When we were alone, he apologized for the silence of the dragons. He verified that we had been uncontacted for some three or four weeks and was shocked by this and very apologetic. He asked about Venn and the “item” and we were unsure if it was safe, but Bolo’s parents were alive and well in Ruun Khazai, and we therefore assumed for now that nothing had attacked while we were in Brindinford.

Even though he had asked already, the Brazen asked again if we had been contacted by the new Gilden. We told him no, we have yet to hear from him and were surprised there was a new Gilden. The Brazen indicated that it seems that the new Gilden does not share the same faith in us that Lord Gelban had. He is not as loose about things. The Brazen asked our indulgence and if we could give him a day he would find a way to deal with the theerpart. My thought was that given a day, we could deal with it ourselves, but no matter.

Dravot asked for more information on the political situation with the dragons. The Brazen was more forthcoming than anyone had been so far about these matters. While the Cupric holds no more love for me than I for him, the brazen assured us that he does try to do what’s best for us. But while the Cupric had Lord Gelban’s ear, apparently nobody has the new Gilden’s ear. And it seems the new Gilden has decided to wait.

Then there is the Silverring. None of the silvers would dream of removing him but the frequent torpor’s due to his age are inconvenient at times. And since all the council needs to agree, it tends to delay action when the Silverring is not there. The Brazen hinted that he has taken some actions and made some covert exceptions but he cannot take overt action without sanction.

The Greyhawk dragons were mentioned in the discussion, and the Brazen wasn’t sure what to make of them. He suspects they are working to keep the peace but he was not totally sure. There are probably not as many as you might think, but they are very good at making appearances.

Meanwhile the chromatic dragons are badly fractured. This is the only reason open warfare has not continued among the dragons. The reds still maintain their dominance and the abyssal dragons have taken the metallic’s place on their little kangaroo court. But their ultimate plan is still unknown. The blacks and greens have allied with Orcus, which was hardly a surprise. Chavram, oddly, has not made overtures towards any of the dragons. On the contrary, he’s leading a military action to liberate Geoff from the giants, and the whites have formed a loose alliance with those giants. The giants are being pushed back, in part due to a third human army lead by the Duke of Geoff.

On the front of the Scarlet Brotherhood, they believe that both factions – the black and scarlet – have been heading west. Specifically, he said “…west, towards your lands, Princess,” nodding at Zera. She got a very uncomfortable look suddenly and it was clear the Brazen said more than he should have. The dragons do not have many agents in the west.

We reported to him that the seal below did seem to be intact and mentioned the bulettes. He indicated that the primal contained below is the plague primal, and the bulettes got too close. The tunnels under the city however should be sealed, and Bolo saw to that matter. The binder was placed here as a honeypot to distract whoever might come looking. The other primals are probably placed under other binders, provided the binder was not moved. This lead us around to the mark of fire, and other marks. The mark connects us to the primal’s base power and different primals have different marks. To be blessed with a mark is to have a sampling of that power. For us, it means we can grow beyond our ken. Air is a similar mark but with a more intellectual bent. There are likely some 8 or 9 marks total.

Lastly, the Brazen said he could stay a half day at most, and there was much to do. But he gave us his most firm personal assurance that we would not be left out in the cold again. He was very distressed by the way we had been abandoned. At that point we adjourned and would continue discussions later.

Everyone moved in separate directions but I stayed in the parlor for a time, alone. In fact, I had been rather distant during the entire discussion. I had previously been very open in my displeasure about being ignored by the dragons, but said little during this discussion about it. It just didn’t seem to matter somehow. The fight with GlaceRage, and the dragons and everything else was slowly adding up to something I had been trying not to face. And I was slowly coming to realize what it was.

When these adventures began, we were tools. Pawns of the dragons. We were told what to do and sent forth to do it. But over time we’ve become something else. We are now a force unto ourselves. We can shape change as we see fit and impact events around us in very significant ways. The disturbing part about this is the responsibility that comes with this. As we grow and become capable of flying on our own, so too we loose the protection and purpose given to us by those who raised us. We have to step into the world and make our own choices. We’ve always had our own will in things, true, but we’ve always done as asked too.

The dragons had chosen to ignore us lately, and I was very annoyed at that. But now I’m wondering if this is not just an indication that we need to set our own direction. It may be for good or ill, but perhaps it’s time we chose for ourselves what to tackle next, rather than waiting for a wyrm to tell us, and becoming miffed when they say nothing.

I’m not sure how the wyrms would feel about this. Maybe it’s a breach of trust; in these trying times they left us without support and information, and hence lost some loyalty. But it may be something more than that. Perhaps now they need to engage us more as equals than as servants. I certainly don’t think we’re equal to these great wyrms, but there can be no denying that we are not the same elves and humans sent to retrieve a fruit.

I don’t know what to think any more. The changes in the dragons’ politics are so profound that I don’t feel I know them any more, nor the purposes they would set us to. Perhaps them turning from us is a good thing. I don’t know. The Brazen is clearly sincere in his regret. I suppose we shall see what happens next.

[I was rushed on the ending - not sure I'm happy with it. Maybe I'll edit later]

 

[Zad]

Looking at a Winterwight's stats .... eeesh. Talk about nasty little things. I don't think I even noticed HD or damage. Just the blightfire ability ... *shudder*

Be glad you all survived.

Oh believe me, I am. Watching that thing tear apart the Bigby's hand in one round made it clear that it could put a lot of hurt on people, and the con drain from the blightfire was just as scary. At the start of the fight, it said that we couldn't hurt it, and it was pretty much right. Probably the only thing that saved us was its confidence, as it toyed with us for a few rounds and then suddenly Scorch got lucky with that disintegrate.

Anyway, this story hour is one of my favorites for showing how the characters have gone from the little peons to the big shots (or at least some of them.)

The development of the characters has been one of the best parts really. Let's review:

Aethramyr: The sole survivor of a destroyed village, raised by humans in a monastery to Pelor for his early life, giving him his lawful nature, uncharacteristic for an elf.

He is the chosen of Sehanine. She has not revealed her purpose to him, but the day will come I'm sure. He has already acted directly on behalf of Pelor, settling a debt between the two dieties. If we take a trip to the Lendore Isles (as we are discussing) I suspect a lot more will bubble up on this front. But already Aethramyr is chosen of his goddess, and unique in his talents among her servants.

On an out-of-character note, Aethramyr's player has done a fascinating job being a paladin. It's not the lawful-good-goody-two-shoes type of thing we've come to characterize as a paladin. He doesn't try to be a paladin or act like a paladin; he just is.

Bolo: Being newer to the campaign, we didn't know Bolo way-back-when. But even in this short time, he's gone from being just another druid to one who served and defended the Green, and indeed is becoming one with the Green in a way few do. He has not led the hardened adventurer life, and still makes a few... missteps from that, but brings a sense of wonder that the rest of us lost a while ago. (Mostly because we were too busy fighting for our lives to be in awe. )

Dravot: The living saint Dravot is certainly has the most renown and fame among the group, being universally known in the Church of Pelor as well as a temporal political power. He has acted directly in service to Pelor and this too is widely known (due to the vision broadcast after the defeat of the Egg of Coot.) He and Aethramyr are the two public faces on the group generally speaking, depending on who we are interacting with. Dravot has overcome his crisis of faith and come out of the darkness, and now basks in the full glory of Pelor.

Scorch: Scorch is probably, personality-wise, the most unchanged of the group. He's still a power hungry mage, furtive and cranky. Of course recently the brou-ha-ha within the guild has put him in a position of apparent power and responsibility, and that seems to make him rather uncomfortable. Scorch has always mainly worried about himself, and he's ill at ease with this responsibility.

On the other hand, he's come into his full power, and pound for pound brings more raw power to the battle than any other group member. (And he no longer recklessly charges into combat with a stick.)

Scorch's player always impresses me with his spell loadout - he always seems to have a great mix available and makes great use of metamagic feats.

Valanthe: Literally and figuratively, Valanthe is always the one in the shadows. She has avoided the notice that all the rest have gained to one degree or another. Valanthe is very very good at what she does, which is good for us since it usually involves very unpleasant things.

Valanthe however has not avoided all notice. The turmoil and politics that is taking place on the Shadow Plane continues, and I have no doubt that there are many powerful beings with her name on their lips. She is a wildcard that could seriously disrupt their plans. Valanthe seems hesitant to get embroiled in this conflict, instead she has been skirting around the edges of it, waitin for the right moment. Somewhat like Scorch, she seems slightly uncomfortable knowing that she will probably play a key role in whatever comes.

In a tactical sense, Valanthe's player has an amazing ability to home in on the strangest things. Things I would never think to be looking for she often finds in the middle of a full melee, and it ends up being used to great effect.

Kayleigh: Within elven society, Kayleigh has gone a long way. From a simple archer to becoming an Elven Champion. She has access to the highest levels of the royal court, and has a habit of bringing back news that comes from no other sources. For a long time she was uncomfortable with all the rapid changes, as you might expect for an elf. But lately she is settling more into her role and accepting it. On her mind more recently is the growing power of the group as a whole - they are changing from becoming a tool of someone else's will into a full fledged force unto themselves. This is neither good nor bad in her eyes, but it is a serious change.


Each character can probably be considered a paragon in their respective field or society, carrying a great deal of power and respect. Not too shabby for a bunch of fruit fetchers.

 

[WizarDru]

So, then: the DM's analysis of the final engagement of the Battle of Brindinford.

I had wondered on and off for the previous two sessions what to do about GlaceRage. If you've seen his actual stats, you know what I mean. He's got (well, had) SR34, 200+ hit points and an AC of 46. If he does a Full Attack, he does 2d8+21 (x2), 1d8+21 and blightfire damage (not to mention an additional +1d6 on criticals)..and if both claw attacks are on one target, he can Rend for 8d8+31. What does blightfire do? Why if you don't make a DC35 Fort save, you lose 4 CON, and GR would get 10 hit points back. Oh, and then there was the Cold Aura. Do the math. On average, that mean that Aethramyr is the only one who stands a better than 50% chance of still standing up to his total fury. Did I mention he moves at 60'? and can DimDoor at will? Yeah.

Now, had I metagamed this (or if we were playing hackmaster), I could have fairly easily killed two, maybe three players fairly easily. But, as it was, GR was being somewhat cocky, and for most of the combat, he had good reason. He had several targets left, and most of them were sources of health to him, not pain. He was planning on sharing the luv, so to speak, via the blightfire. If Scorch's disintegrate hadn't succeeded, Aethramyr most likely would have gone down next round (HE NEEDS KILLIN). He did over 157 points of damage to the Bigby's hand in the previous round. Most of the combat was failure to hurt or cast at him.

In essence, the Meepites took their chances, but given that they should normally be facing CR 19 challenges at this point, anyhow, this wasn't beyond the pale for them. Tough, but winnable. Had the dice gone differently, maybe not. Not for the first time, though, the DM questions if he's using his monsters properly. An issue I do have with high-level play is the all-or-nothing factor of the battles: to wit, at 3rd level, you get hurt, you fight on, and you probably win. At 19th level, you save or die, or fight beasts that may kill you in one round. I may underplay my creatures for that very reason. The Meepites may be very close to embarking on a traditional dungeon crawl soon, the first true crawl I'll have run under my devisement all campaign long (as opposed to using WoTC's modules). I'll be curious how it plays out, if the choose that route.

Big Rules Question of the Night: What happens if you fail to overcome a creature's SR while casting Bigby's Crushing Hand?
WizarDru's answer: it just hangs around, unable to acquire it's target. You can use a standard action to try and acquire the target, just as if you were intentionally switching one, per the Interposing Hand spell description...but you need to try and overcome the creature's SR again. Wash, rinse and repeat if you fail again.

Concerning the predictions: well, the situation changed the possibilities, and I guessed about both Dravot and Bolo without knowing their memorized spells. Scorch did cast the spell I expected, he just waited a round to do it, and I may have reminded him to. I predicted he'd cast Bigby's Crushing Hand...instead he cast Dimension Door and then Fireball to free the rest of the party. I expected Bolo to cast Elemental Swarm...instead he used a Sumon Nature's Ally VIII to get an elder Fire Elemental. I expected Dravot to use Greater Planar Ally, but he chose, isntead to try and do a dispel and a sunbeam. Since GlaceRage had only one dispellable spell running (Spell Immunity: Fireball), it wasn't really that efficient, but there was no way that the Meepites could have known that, without cracking open the ELH to find out it's powers. In short, no Egg for me, but Scorch won an Egg for his victory over GlaceRage.

Here's the actual text of the predicitons:

DM’s prediction de la Scorcho!

Using my DM Super powers, I predict that Scorch will cast the following spell on Round 1 of the party’s battle with the eponymous GlaceRage, Winter Wight and Bon Vivant of Rauxes.

Bigby’s Crushing Hand! (Up the Fist!) - Why? Because it’s one of his heaviest hitters, and it’s both offensive and defensive at the same time. AND because he’s never cast it before, and he’s been aching to. Equally important is the fact that it isn’t vulnerable to GR’s SR, so it won’t fail.

Alternate: A less likely, but still plausible possibility is the Maze, Maze, Go Away option. No SR, and it lets the party set up for the smackdown. However, it’s not as satisfying, and given that the party is ignorant of how intelligent GR is, it’s a gamble of how much time that might buy them. [that, and the fact that he might have some other ability to resist it].

Why he won’t cast Meteor Swarm or a MX/EM Fireball: Too hard to control in a such a low-scale tactical situation, without giving GR a chance to act first, and they have no defensive benefit. On round two, maybe, but not round one.

DM’s prediction de la Bolo!

Using my DM Super powers, I predict that Bolo will cast the following spell on Round 1 of the party’s battle with the eponymous GlaceRage, Winter Wight and Bon Vivant of Rauxes.

Fire Storm! (Up the Flame!) - Let’s face facts, Bolo’s crazier than a bed bug. This is one of his best whammies, and at somewhere around 60 points of fire damage, he’ll prolly gamble that he can target GR before the party reaches him, beat GRs SR and keep it off of most of the party. But my unfamiliarity with Druids, and Bolo’s inherint wiliness means I can’t be sure.

Alternate: The incredibly powerful, but possibly useless against GR: Elemental Swarm! No fear of SR, and lots of temporary grunts (most likely fire elementals) to do the “nature nasty” all over his wintry butt. But I think Bolo will save this for a ‘break glass’ kind of situation, just like Mass Heal.


DM’s prediction de la Dravot!

(Note that the silent ‘T’ lets me keep a pattern!) Using my DM Super powers, I predict that Bolo will cast the following spell on Round 1 of the party’s battle with the eponymous GlaceRage, Winter Wight and Bon Vivant of Rauxes.

This all is depending on the nature of pre-buffs, and with the assumption that Dravot only has access to 8th-level spells.

Greater Planar Ally! (Up the Sun!) - This makes the assumption that Holy Aura was a buff spell, as it would be an automatic first cast, otherwise. SPA meets the same criterion as all the rest: dual nature of protective and defensive, additional muscle and no vulnerability to GR’s SR. Having a Solar to help out and cast healing spells is a Good Thing ™. Anti-magic field is too much of a double-edged sword, here, and most of the high-level cleric spells are…well, unimpressive, being most variations on the Holy Aura theme. Summon Monster VIII is about the same, here, technically.

Alternate: Dimensional Anchor. Put quite simply, this is a ‘take one for the team’ kind of spell that commits GR to the battle as much as the party. No one wants another Cathezar…after all, they still haven’t paid her banished ass back yet.

 

[Tantra]

ShatterSpike

ShatterSpike, Currently:

+3 weapon.
Keen
Bane: Evil Outsiders
Holy

Special Abilities:
"Imbue" the weapon: Spend a turning Check to add Charisma bonus to Hit and Damage. (Normal rules applying here; weapon cannot go above +5) For a number of rounds equal to the max hitdice effected by the turning check (which at this point cant be lower than something like 14 rounds, so generally a non issue)

Spend a turning Check To have it cast Bless as the spell.

Spend a turning Check To have it cast Cure Serious Wounds.



ShatterSpike is normally a LongSword. Because of the character concept I had for Aethramyr, A greatsword works better. Dru allowed it so that spending a turning check will make the longsword a greatsword for Hours X Level, so it's pretty much a greatsword from now on.



When the Paladin who wields 'spike reaches 20th lvl, it becomes a +5 holy avenger.

Shatterspike is one of 9 blades, one for each alignment. The blades are Elven forged, and made out of a Vitasis (sp?) crystal, much like the gems that Valenthe carries. Another blade was (we hope) destroyed at the first Battle at Bryndinford. Numbers 3 through 9 are MIA, Presumed hiding in the recessis of the Dru-m's Brain.

Aethramyr as a side project is researching their creation, With the hope of revivng the Art of smithing these blades, most likely to a lesser degree.

 

[Argent Silvermage]

Bolo gets a Dog!

The story of Tailcatcher.

The big russet colored dog sat, tongue lolling from his mouth next to Bolo. Aethramyr stood looking at the two of them with a mix of amusement and curiosity on his dashing elfin face. “You got him where?” Asked the Paladin.
Reaching up to scratch Tailcatcher behind the ear, Bolo replied, “Well remember when I went into the wall of the chamber under Brindenford? I was teleported to the Beast lands.” Bolo’s mind wandered back to the time ….

There was a flash of light and the druid in the form of an earth elemental found himself plummeting from a great height. He switched forms to that of a merlin hawk and regained his control. Soaring over the verdant plains he realized that he was in the beast lands. Bolo thought to see his mistress, the Lady of the woods herself, Ehlonna. He started to fly in the direction of her grove when he was besieged by a huge Roc. Thinking quickly he made for the trees and was about to enter the grove when a lovely young Halfling woman stopped him. “SharpLeaf!” she called out using Bolo’s Druid name, “She is not to be disturbed. Come and sit with me a while.” Bolo wheeled around and alighted on a lounge of green moss. Assuming his Halfling form Bolo sat on the lounge and asked, “Hello, You know me but I’m a bit at a loss. Who are you?” He said as another Halfling woman brought him nectar.
“I’m Po. The great forest Lady wishes you to once again perform the ritual of creation. I know that you are not interested in women but she has deemed it your responsibility to keep your bloodline flowing and an heir off the prime will help to insure that. Geo, your son, is alive and well so fear not for his safety.”
Bolo looked at her and thought to himself “This is strange. What is so special about the Brandybuck blood line?” Looking in her eyes he said, “I accept my duty to the great lady.” And reached for Po.

An hour later Bolo was wandering the outer-grove and wandered upon a big dog. The dog was a St. Cuthbert and all russet colored. With huge amber/brown eyes. Bolo knew at once this was one of the Legendary animals he had hoped to meet at some point in his journey. The dog was of all things chasing its tail. Bolo stepped within a few feet of the dog and using the charm in his Torc or Animal Speech introduced himself.
“I’m chasing my tail today.” The happy dog said. “I’m waiting for my new friend to come but until they do I’ll just chase my tail.”
Bolo giggled like a schoolgirl. “I can see that. Do you know who your friend is? Maybe I can help you find him or her.” The shaggy dog just stopped and looked at Bolo. He then started spinning even faster, trying to catch his tail with a ferocity Bolo would not have thought possible of this sweet puppy. “I was told that I could catch my tail around my new friend. It doesn’t seem to be you.” Said the dog. Bolo was a little taken aback as he was sure the dog awaited him just as he had awaited taking a companion. Bolo had long ago decided not to take a companion as a way to devotion to himself and his connection to the green. His connection to the Green is no longer in any question in his mind as he has stepped on the path of the Verdant Lord. Bolo has felt the urge to have his companion now more than ever as there is so much happening in his life and he has no life partner to share it with. Bolo decided to stop the dog for a moment and they sat and talked. Eventually Bolo started scratching the dog and it flipped onto it’s back for a good old fashion belly scratch. Bolo hit a nerve and the dog curled backwards stretching his body to the utmost and making a loop out of himself. Bolo saw this happen and said “Now! Catch your tail!” and the dog grabbed the tip of his tail in his teeth.
They jumped up as one and Bolo hugged the dog to him. “Friend?” said the dog. “Friend.” said Bolo. They wrassled for a while longer and then a wren came to Bolo and his dog Tailcatcher letting them know that Bolo’s friends Kayleigh and Scorch were waiting for him. The four returned to Brindenford just as 2 huge dragons came to a very bad landing outside the city. And the rest you know.

Aethramyr looked back and forth between Bolo and his dog and silently prayed for his goddess to take him now. These two could only spell more tongues touching things!

 

[dravot]

Interlude: Zira's Curse and Dravot's Promise

After the priests of Wee Jas have left, I spent some time organizing the town. The paladins of Heiroeneous, feeling somewhat ineffectual, volunteer to begin 'turning' the snow about town, as well as lending what medical and spiritual aid as they can. Ginger and the house staff have turned the courtyard into what is essentially a field hospital, with servants of the sun god using magics to keep it warm and sunlit in the dingy outdoors. The most serious cases are brought inside to be placed in beds throughout the mostly empty manor. I am pleased to see people pitching in and helping each other in this time of crisis. I wish that this spirit of cooperation would exist in more peaceful times as well.

The Tatterdamelion has been seen teleporting or dimension dooring about the town, monitoring her walls. Consultation with the city watch indicates that he has at least three different 'forms', and each with a different personality. They've labelled him 'friendly mace', 'imperious staff' and 'scary sword'. One of the paladins of Heironeous, a young local lad named Jean d'Astoine, told me that one of the incarnations is evil, and he doesn't trust the thing (for he refuses to call it a man).

I smiled at Jean. “I understand how you feel. It makes me uncomfortable as well, but I have come to trust in the Temple of Wee Jas for the protection of the town.”

He nodded, although clearly not sure. "If you say so, my Lord. My master says you are very wise, and that we should trust to your judgement. I know of few outside our order who's judgement he values so. I prefer virtuous battle to such trials of faith. How you, master Thorkeld or the Paragon manage such things is beyond me, though I shall meditate long on what you have said."

"Sometimes fate hands us strange allies. I may not trust them in all things, but I trust them in this."

A quick inquiry revealed that Zira was at the Temple, where she often has been of late. She prays for guidance, more often than even Thorkeld or I do, and more so than of late.

I entered the chapel and directed the acolyte in charge to give us some privacy. I knelt beside Zira and prayed silently to Pelor for a long while. I asked for strength and guidance; strength to do the tasks that Pelor needs, and the guidance to know what those tasks are, and if those tasks include helping Zira and her brother.

When I finished my prayer, I turned slightly toward Zira, politely waiting for her to look up and notice me.

She rose, though she did not look at me. It was clear she had finished praying, and was instead meditating. Though she gave no sign at first, she was clearly hyper-aware of her surroundings, and my presence especially. She glanced in your direction, but seemed unable or unwilling to meet my eyes.

"My favorite prayer is the Benediction of Belline. She who heals all wounds. All except mine, it seems." She paused, obviously looking for the right way to say something difficult. "So. You know the truth, now. You know my shame."

“Shame? Shame of what? The Brazen called you a princess. Is that something to be shamed of? One can hardly control one’s origins, or the family that one comes from. The circumstances of my own family are hardly enviable. I am angry at Chavram, but my sense of shame at his actions (or even his very existence, I profess) has long faded.”

“Pray, please tell me of the lands where you grew up. I would like to hear about them.”

"You see my shame, but you do not know it, I think. I would that you had not known it. It is only that you do not speak Bakluni, or you would already understand. My name is not 'Tebara', it is a title that my brother and I share. It means, 'unwedded' or 'unmarryable' in the common. 'Tebharin' means 'those who cannot wed'. We can, neither of us, be a proper husband or wife. It was a failure of our faith that led to my failing our people. My father has no heirs, and his mother died in the birthing of us. Sand Fever took my older brother, and a monster my younger."

"I come from Ekbir, far to the West, on the northern coast. My father, the Caliph, is a gentle and just man. We are not like Zeif, where lives have little value and women are treated as things. My land is a lush green place, filled with rolling plains. Such wonders there are there." Her eyes fills with a light as she talks, her memory lightening her mood, somewhat. "Where the two mighty rivers meet, the Tuflik and Blashikmund, there is a great waterfall, greater than any I have seen in the East. When you go there, you will see rainbows fill the air."

"My city looks over the Ocean, and it's cooling breezes are felt everywhere you walk. From the Grand Plaza, you can see down the slopes of the city to the ocean, where ships of every make and color wait in port. Not ugly monstrosities like the Sea Barons, but true vessels for travelling over the Drawmidj to other lands. And one could see the Zashassar, a mage's guild like no other in the world. They tell me it is the oldest in the Flanaess, and it is like nothing you have ever seen. The last of the Bakluni mages settled here, after the Devastation."

“My city is bright colors and white stone, and the sun shines on us everywhere. Your town is a fair place, and has it's own charms, but is not the City of Sails. I have travelled far and wide, doing our lord's work, but I have never seen a city truly like it, though many have their own joys and suprises. I only wish I had been stronger in my faith."

I sat and digested this. “Ekbir sounds like a wonderful place. I think I should like to visit it sometime, and see the Grand Plaza, and the mage’s guild. I would like that very much.”

Pausing for a moment, and I continued. “What is this crisis in faith of which you speak? From what I have observed in both you, and your brother, you are pious, just, and good. I have seen nothing to even consider a lack of faith.” I smiled, in an attempt to lighten the mood just a little, “And lest you forget, I was undergoing a crisis of faith when your brother stormed into our camp. If anyone might have some compassion and understanding of your situation, surely it must be me.”

She nodded, and seemed to me to be somewhat reassured by this fact.

"I had not wished to trouble you with such matters. Your own concerns are great enough." Zira paused, thinking about it, and then decided to continue. "Very well. I told you my younger brother was taken by a monster. I did not name him. He was a powerful wizard who had lived beyond death, and someone whom my brother had inconvienenced. He chose to plague our house, and plague it he did. His name was once Yerrana ib Abasiilu, but few know him as anything but Uhaya-nin-De, the Shadow-Taker."

"It is said he collects the souls of the pure, and stores them in little bottles. From each one, he derives a little power, and he has many, stored over centuries. My brother stumbled across the activities of his agents, and did what he does best...infuriates them. The Shadow-Taker swore revenge, and revenge he took. I prayed for guidance, and was granted a vision. There exists a powerful artifact of our faith, the Light of Reason it is called. It is a Lantern that can be light from a sacred flame, called Pelor's Pyre. It is a terrifying weapon against the undead, or so the tales say. My brother and I sought it, and used divinations to locate it."

"We should have waited longer...studied more, or perhaps asked for more guidance. Instead, we huried to where we believed the Pyre could be found...and discovered that the Shadow-Taker had built his underground fortress on the very spot where the Pyre once was known to be. Rather than seek further aid, we entered, hoping to rescue my brother if he still lived. We advanced through the crypts, and defeated the traps and foes we found waiting. Defeated them, at least, until the Shadow-Taker found us, and defeated us without a second thought, or so it seemed. I think he meant that he might enthrall us, in some way. I do not know, but I am sure that something went wrong. While we sat there, bleeding on the floor, he cursed us. Our blood mingled, and we became one, but not one. It was a horrible process that I would spare you the details of."

"It was some hours into the process that I remember, through the haze of pain, that someone came to visit him. A being that was treated with respect, if not honor. He looked to be a normal man of the East, though I thought it curious that he was dressed so unwisely. Foolish, is it not? I sat there, being tortured and all I could but note was that he was dressed in a leather apron with no shirt, and worried that he'd burn in the powerful sun. I cannot relate what they discussed, or how he came or went. So little remains to me of the events there. This newcomer called him away for some time, so that when the process had finished, we were alone. My brother was in control, as it was now well past dark."

"I have communed once since then, and believe that the Pyre was near, and that it prevented the Taker from dominating us as he must have wished. I am unsure where it was, but it allowed us to escape. We returned to the city, and revealed our shame. My father was understanding, but he was now in mourning for two sons, and we were, in some ways, as good as dead ourselves. The mages tried their best, but this curse was more powerful than any they had encountered...and they are master of elements, anyways. This kind of magic is not known to them."

"And so I came to the East, in hopes that the church fathers here might have greater success. Your mentor befriended me in a strange land, and gave me guidance. I will miss his council, though it heartens me to learn that he walks in blessed light."

I leaned back, in silence for a minute. “I am most sorry for your grievous loss of your younger brother. Clearly, our families have much in common when it comes to tragedy. Know this: I pledge upon my honor that I will do everything within my power to aid you and your family in whatever way I can. From your story, I can find no evidence of a lack of faith on your part. I believe that you and your brother are true servants of Pelor, offering your your wisdom to any who wish it, and your arm in battle when necessary.”

“Although I would not wish such a curse upon anyone, nor would I dare presume to guess at the will of Pelor, I am starting to wonder if it was not meant to be. An artifact such as you describe is indeed a powerful weapon against the undead. Perhaps I would have considered it, perhaps Pelor would have sent me a vision to remind me of it, or perhaps you were intended to bring me news of it’s whereabouts. I do not know. I do know that such an item would be of immense value to me in my struggle against Chavram, and now, apparently, against Kargoth. If the price for such an artifact is the downfall of one such as the Shadow-Taker, I would gladly pay it 10 times over.”

“Furthermore, you and your brother are strong in will and in body. Your father must be, as well. Pelor would not have allowed this to happen if he knew you could not bear such a heavy burden. Of this, I am convinced.” Dravot smiles again.

“You and your brother have brought me counsel at a time when I needed it the most. You have helped to protect my town, and my family, and have bolstered my temple with your presence. For all of this, I am in your debt. I pledge to you that the Shadow-Taker will fall; I shall be your weapon in this. The soul of your young brother will be freed; I will be your servant in this. Your curse shall be lifted; I shall be your friend and do this for you.”

I knew that I had done the right thing, for she smiled widely back at me. "A friend is more valuable than water in the desert, and I am glad to call you such. I would not have asked it of you, but I am glad of your help. You do me honor, Dravot of the d'Chandangac. In his light, perhaps I can honor you."

A wistful look came to her face, as if weighing a bit of mischief. She then suddenly placed her hands around my face, and drew me down to her height, and presented with you a playful but meaningful kiss, full of promise. She let out a small laugh at my astonishment, and stepped back, her cheeks blushing.

"I don't think I've seen that look since you first saw me in silks. I like it now as much as then. Though my brother might not agree." I started to speak, but she covered my lips with a single finger, and shushed me into an unaccustomed silence. "I have promised the priests that I would ride with them to the outlying farms," she stated, as the doors to the chapel opening behind us, "and I can see you have duties, as well. I will return by the dinner bell. Thank you, my friend."

As the captain of the watch, the captain-militant of Heiroenous and the house majordomo approached, she stepped backwards away from me, and deftly dodged between them. They seemed oblivious to what had just happened as they marched up, intent on the affairs of Brindinford. Zira stopped at the door and gave me a look as happy as I've ever seen her, and she disappeared from the temple.

I can only hope that my friends will agree to do this. I trust them, and know that they are good people, but they’ve already done so much for me, and for Pelor, who isn’t even their god. How much more can I ask of them? What is reasonable? Then again, we are hardly in a time of reason. I will go alone if I have to, though I doubt that I could prevent Thorkeld from coming.

I hope that I can retrieve the Light of Reason for my struggles against Chavram and Kargoth, but only after it is used to aid Zira, and not before then. I have replayed our conversation in my mind a dozen times now, and yet I can scarcely believe what happened between her and me. Certainly, life will become more interesting in the future, if nothing else. I wonder what Thora will say when she hears of this. I’m certain that I know what Kayleigh would say, in any case.

Bah. Mindless speculation does me no good. I must go to inspect the repairs to the East Gate, and put my mind back to the business at hand.

 

[dravot]

Research on The Shadow-Taker and the Light of Reason

From the book, "Favors of the Dawn", written about 300 years ago:

"During the time known as the Fourth Darkness, before the great draining took place, Pelor sent a gift to the faithful of the town Sesstis Ro, located somewhere in what is now the Dry Steppes. To stave off the coming evil that was the Storm Lords and the marching horde of Vecna's undead, a boon was sent from the simplest of things."

"Henfar, the town's silversmith, received a vision in a dream. He was to make a lantern of common make, but fine craftsmanship. Pelor bid him travel north, to a secret cave under the earth, where Pelor's light rarely shone. It was a perilous journey, and he must walk it alone, past the undead, demons and monsters more terrifying than those that roam the civilized lands of today."

"Henfar crafted the lantern and walked forth, shielded only from evil by the power of his faith. It was a mighty shield, indeed. He found the secret vale, and the cave that led deep into the earth. He walked for days, alone and in the dark (for he dare not light the lantern that was his charge). When all seemed lost, and his plight hopeless, he spied a bright light."

"It was the very spirit of Pelor's will, rising from a crack in the earth, and lit aflame. This was Pelor's Pyre, a powerful flame of white fire. Henfar knew at once that this was where the lantern was to be lit. He did so, and the power of Pelor's gift burst forth, setting Henfar and all who would view it at peace. Though he thrust his hand in the fire, Lo, he did not burn nor fear for hurt. He returned to Sesstis Ro, and the lantern, known now as the Light of Reason was hung from the temple's highest tower, to provide it's warmth and protection forever more."

"Sesstis Ro no longer exists, and the fate of the lantern is unknown. This tale was recovered for this tome from a decaying tome in the Kellerman Temple in Southern Keoland, which has since been abandoned after the king's persecution. The author suspects it may have gone to the Silent Brotherhood, but that would be more ambitious than they are normally known to be."

From A Long History of the Suel Empire, Vol X., from your Grandfather's libram:

pg. 26/27: "Many were the enemies of the Suel, even unto the ending. When the Rain of Colorless Fire struck, it seared and burned those in Torvag Baru as much as it did their mortal enemies. Never has so much death struck so many so quickly. But not all were killed."

"Leonid the Quick was known to have escaped destruction, as was Uyenda, Prophos, the Hellgramite and the ShadowTaker. Powerful sorcerors all, they aligned for the purpose of retribution, but unlike others, did not commit to the cause unto death. Like insects under a rock, they scattered with the sun."

....

pg. 49: "Many of the Bakluni survived, as the Suel did. And like the Suel, they too migrated in mass numbers, but North, instead of East. The modern Kingdoms of the Paynims, Zeif and Ekbir are their chief homes. Both commoner and nobleman alike moved, from Yusef the Pilgrim to the Shadow-Taker himself. The great found themselves diminshed in the North though, even as the downtrodden sometimes rose above."

.....

pg. 112: "It was said that the powerful Bakluni enchanter known as Uhaya-nin-De or the ShadowTaker (neither of which are clearly his real name) devised a contract with demons to live beyond his normal span, and took to collecting the souls of the unfortunate. Many folk-tales surround him, particularly with bargains made and secrets obtained, and the terrible price he often charges for his gifts or knowledge. Some assumed him to be an avatar of the diety Ralishaz. Even wilder tales said that he had died during the Invoked Devastation or Rain of Colorless Fire, and rose again, far more evil and terrible than before. Few of these tales have proven to haven any validity."

.......

pg. 193: "The empire kept close track of it's more powerful enemies. Indeed, it was the division amongst the Bakluni sorcerors that kept them weaker...much less than the Empire's oppression. The Shadow-Taker was known to consort with dark powers, if the Imperial records are to be believed. He was known to have consorted or consulted with followers of Tharizdun, but it was never clear if he was using them or aiding them."

 

[WizarDru]

If you were one of my players, you'd hate to see this:


Go here for some input into the game, if you're not one of my players.

Because nothing drives them crazy like a thread they're not allowed to go into.

 

[Zad]

The Durance Vile - Chapter 1

The Durance Vile

Chapter 1

OOC Notes:
Exp is 1300 this week.

Loot Administravia:
+4 ring of protection to Aethramyr (sold his old +2, 8,000gp +10% in CoB)
Staff of Eringlin has been put on hold til later
Ring of Spell Storing to Valanthe – default spells are Wall of Force and Teleport
Scarab of protection – sell 38,000gp.
Remains of GlaceRage net 38,000gp.
Subtract 9,000gp for the travel papers

Net share 12,633gp. Books are now up to date.


This Week’s Adventure:
After taking some hours to reflecton the state of affairs, I was ready to talk to the Brazen again. I had one basic thought on my mind – the rescue of Lord Gelban. It was a thought that most of my companions were sharing. But the Brazen had always been honest with us and we at least wanted to understand why the dragons had not tried to rescue him, and what might happen if we tried. What followed was a long discussion of draconic politics that was numbing at times.

The metallics did not plan to rescue Lord Gelban for many reasons. First was a lack of true concensus among the council. Second was the issue that right now, while there was war, it was very limited in scope. If the reds were to kill Lord Gelban, a war would erupt that would scar the whole of the Flanness. So the reds are unlikely to do that just yet, unless they are provoked. The metallics were hoping to win Lord Gelban back by parley, and meanwhile the reds have a valuable hostage, so both sides are more content with the status quo and neither wants to risk the consequences of any other action.

If we acted to rescue Lord Gelban with the knowledge and sanction of the council, the consequences could be just as grave. However if we acted without their knowledge or blessings, much of the risk is avoided. Aethramyr wisely was concerned that we would be perceived as an agent of the council regardless of whether we had their permission, and this was a genuine risk. But none of us seemed content to leave Lord Gelban to his torment, so we accepted this and moved on.

During the conversation with the Brazen, we once sent a thought over the scales to each other. We have become so used to these items that we use them reflexively without considering it. The blessings of private communication with each other over any distance cannot be understated after all. But the Brazen raised an eyebrow, and strongly advised us not to use them while considering this matter. We never had cause in the past to consider what price may come with the scales, but the implications were obvious and we immediately took them off for the rest of the conversation.

By the end, we were of a mind to rescue Lord Gelban. The Brazen of course understood this but it was our hope that he would remain silent on the issue and not inform the council, or at least not right away. Once we had discussed the matter of the Theerpart (The Brazen would stash him in an inter-planar retreat he had access to) we made preparations to depart.

[At this point, Dravot named the plan Operation Bay of Dire Pigs]

Having Venn moved to comparative safety was a large weight off our shoulders and we set about our preparations. Valanthe and I made a quick shopping trip to Sigil while the others scattered around on their business and we met back up in Hexpools. (Luck was against me this trip – the prices asked were ruinous, and it was only thanks to Valanthe that the costs came down to a more bearable level.)

Dravot sent word of an interesting development from Greyhawk – the Scarlet Brotherhood has abandoned Greyhawk. This came from Prestwick in the Temple of Pelor but he did not know why they chose to leave.

As we were ready to leave, we each took off our scale and set them on the table. They would have to wait til we returned. Scorch had a spell that could do the same thing but it didn’t last nearly as long as we might like.

One compelling issue we had to resolve was how we would actually get into the Durance Vile. We knew that it was a demi-plane that connected to the Elemental Plane of Fire. But that covered a lot of ground and we had no idea how to actually get in. Dravot remembered a spell called Find the Path that would lead you to a given landmark, but we were unsure if it would function. Valanthe did some checking and found that the main entrance was something called the “Burning Gate” but little else. We concluded that perhaps we could ask a favor from someone who might owe us – Prince Sumez ben Taal, the djinn we released from the binder. So we would go to the plane and ask his aid.

Then there was a second wrinkle. If we were going to rescue Lord Gelban, Hammer and Tongs wanted to go with us. We were glad for the help, but it meant we were taking nine people total (Thorkeld insisted on coming, to my surprise. I would have thought he would be worried about Brindinford.) That meant we could not plane shift everyone in one shot, which meant we would have two groups landing, most likely in two entirely different areas in the plane. We concluded we needed a portal instead, and so went to Sigil and had someone guide us to a portal to the Plane of Fire. (It turned out to be inside someone’s basement furnace.)

We arrived on a narrow stone shelf and quickly threw a spell to acclimate us to the local conditions. Overhead, gigantic things floated through the sky, bodies composed of a series of burning comets. They seems oblivious to our presence (I assumed they were beings of some kind but they could have been just the landscape for all I know.) Plumes of fire in every color were visible across the landscape and various other wonderous sights covering every type of combustion I had seen, and a hundred times as many I hadn’t.

Scorch looked around and muttered a bit, and thought we were somewhere on the Solness expanse. Of course that covers the majority of the plane so it told us little. But nearby a magman the size of a small child was wandering along, and he told us of an efreet colony up the stone a ways. Since moving on foot was difficult at best (since the ground was absent as often as not) we mounted Hammer and Tongs and moved to the colony.

It was in view in a matter of minutes – a small community of terracotta domes, connected with streets of baked tiles. The only thing missing was any kind of vegetation, but there were a great many people. In this case “people” means red and orange skinned humanoids, many with horns in some fashion. Very few wore shirts and most had piercings in their nipples, and scrolling tatooes on their arms and chests. Three males saw us approaching and waved us into a landing area nearby. They seemed concerned but generally more relaxed than most towns we’ve walked into.

Scorch was the only one who spoke Ignan, and asked them if they could tell us where to find Prince Sumez. The beings had a conversation among themselves in Aquan, assuming we wouldn’t understand it. Of course Scorch speaks Aquan as well, and when they were about ready to tell us just to go off in a random direction, he called them on that. They had another conversation in Auran, but Scorch spoke that as well and the process repeated itself. At that point they gave up in frustration and came clean. They had no idea – the Prince was a Djinn, and they were Efreet, and they don’t typically get along. The word “war” comes up a lot. In order to get rid of us, they directed us to a nearby djinn community and we went on our way.

The djinn community definitely had a different look about it. There were some fifty buildings with large domed rooftops, and the inhabitants were hued blue and yellow and green. The village was called Far Furnaces and we were received much the same way as with the efreet. They were quite friendly and told us the Prince would surely be in the City of Brass and gave us directions to reach it.

Of course, to get into the city we would need papers and clearance. Such things take quite a while to obtain. However the gentleman we were speaking to did conduct business in the city and could sell us some papers that were already approved. Once we settled the currency conversion issues, it would take 9000gp to get all of us authorized. It seemed quite steep at first but we joked among ourselves that Lord Gelban could surely afford it.

Again we took to the skies. It was like a dream, flying with Tongs over the Plane of Fire. I could have flown on my own but the dragons were a fair bit faster. We banked past hydrogen storms, soared over glowing auroras, flew past shimmering curtains of flame, and started as we went near elementals that danced and fought in flames and light of every color. The trip was two hours and was over far too soon.

The City of Brass was every bit the wonder its reputation made it out to be. We saw the giant city looming ahead in the sky, but were approached well before we got near, and directed to a small way station. The guards present checked our papers over, and asked our business. When we told them we wished to see the Prince, the guard used telepathy to view Scorch’s mind. He asked Scorch to recall a memory of the Prince to validate that we had met him.

Scorch, without hesitation, remembered the Prince as he said "Oh. That. Um, about that. I lied." The guard nodded, saying that definitely was typical of the Prince. What surprised me was that he told us we were expected. When I asked about this, I was told that it was not at this specific time, but that they had been informed that sooner or later we would probably drop by. The guard then went over the laws of the land with us: no fighting inside the city limits being the chief among them. He also gave us a map with several locations of interest including the palace at which we could find the Prince, saying that we couldn’t miss it since it had 75 nubile women dancing around it.

Also, and this was most important, we had to check out when we left the city.

We left the way station with convential flight to conceal the dragons identity – there were red dragons that could be seen circling the city and we didn’t need to draw attention. Most of the buildings had upper stories of brass, giving the city the name but there were several other materials as well. The entire place was more colorful than most of the paintings made it out to be. There was even green grass on some of the lawns – a status symbol for the very wealthy.

The actual palace was surrounded by a low wall – a token among people who can fly. It was completely extravagant and looked like the designer was tasked to find every way possible to throw money away. There was even the wasteful luxury of a moat (more like a reflecting pool) around the estate. It was the most water I’d seen in one place yet. The palace had several wings, bridges (which existed as it just to remind you that you were walking over water) and numerous gardens with fruit trees. Even the air felt a bit cooler here.

As we approached, the five-score dancing girls stoped circling and danced themselves into two long lines welcoming us to the grounds. We heard in our minds “Welcome. The mighty Prince Sumez ben Taal welcomes you to his palacial estate.” As we passed between the long lines of beautiful women, I noticed that these women were not mere ornamentation – each had a weapon carefully concealed in their silks. Valanthe shot me a quick look and she too realized that these were the bodyguards as well as the decoration.

A man met us inside – some other type of native being – shorter than the djinn. He too welcomed us and said the Prince would gladly receive us but was eating a feast at the moment. If we cared to freshen up, then another feast would be served in our honor in some twenty minutes.

We wandered the gardens and soon the chimes sounded and we entered according to custom. The feast hall was carpeted in pillows of all shapes, sizes and colors, and the room descended down in broad steps to a central fire pit, with small tables dotted here and there. The flames in the pit slowly resolved into the Prince and despite the grand entrance he was very cordial. He greeted each of us and was glad to see us, and there were no formalities involved. He was quite proud of the estate – he intimated he had left some money with the money lenders, and had returned after all the centuries to quite a sizable fortune which he made no bones about spending.

We had an elaborate meal that was certainly . . . interesting. There was a great deal of food imported from the prime material plane for our benefit but they were obviously unfamiliar with the usual means of preparation or in some cases the desired outcome of a dish. But despite the oddities such as a cooked salad, it was all quite good and we ate well. When our host let out a loud belch, we took that as a signal to discuss our purpose.

We told him we wanted to find a way into the Durance Vile, preferably a secondary entrance rather than the main gate. He was only vaguely familiar with it and it would take a day to make some discreet inquiries and we would have his hospitality in the meanwhile. It would take a day or so to ask around, so Valanthe and I made a point of shopping around town. The Prince sent one of his guards with us as guide and escort and we had a very pleasant day shopping. We sold a few unneeded items, and I bought no end of silks and fabrics. Some changed color with the heat of the wearer, others shimmered, and others actually danced with flame. One type changed color based on the temperature in the area, but it was pointed out that at home it would probably just be black all the time. I got a mischevious notion into my head and bought something more than a little suggestive for Zera, figuring that she would find a good use for it soon. And of course things for myself, ranging from formal to somewhat more intimate.

Of course no shopping can go unmolested. We were being watched. Valanthe spotted a janni was following us. He was orange-brown in color and eight feet tall. We told our escort and she said that it wasn’t a real janni – the coloring was just not right. We concluded that if he lost track of us, he’d return to his employer or cohorts, and we easily gave him the slip. (Honestly between the entire group, he picked the wrong ones to try to follow. We rounded a corner and Valanthe and I might not have been on the same plane any more for all he knew.) Valanthe turned the tables and began following him and sure enough he soon gave up and headed off.

He soon stopped and seemed to be talking to a wall. Valanthe used a true-seeing scroll and a great deal was revealed. First, the janni was actually the same man that had met Scorch recently in Brindinford – Scorch called him The Burning Skin. And he was talking to an invisible man who was shifted to appear as an efreet. He was actually human, stocky and wore a leather apron and heavy pants.

Valanthe stifled a gasp as she realized who it might be – Brontal, the smith who had made Dravot’s brand. He looked enough like him. But the real Brontal had been killed before making the brand, and an imposter took his place for a time.

The two conversed and then went to meet a third man, also a human. He appeared oridian with dark brown hair and dark eyes. He was dispassionate, but he was not pleased. The Burning Skin was agitated but after a couple words from the newcomer he snapped to attention and silence. The man waved something at Brontal, who nodded and left. The Burning Skin cast a spell and disappeared. Valanthe decided to follow the new man, who walked into a dark alleyway and then melted into a dark wall.

We met back up and Scorch said that the man was a member of his guild. Scorch had aquired focus items to travel to the plane of fire through the guild so The Burning Skin might have learned of our location that way. But who was the third man?

I had a suspicion. It wasn’t the clothes, or the appearance that brought it to my mind – it was the dispassionate coldness. Could this have been the Red Lord of the Scarlet Brotherhood? It was just a guess of course, and likely wrong. But why were these beings interested in us, and were they working with the reds? And was that Brontal? If so who was he really? On who’s order did he alter Dravot’s brand? We know Fraz was involved with the brand – was the third man Fraz?

If we find them outside of the city, perhaps we can persuade them to tell us.

 

[Scorch]

Some insight into what is going through Scorch's mind right now...

I had my suspicions about the Burning Skin since I met with him and the other Grey Guild leaders after I found out I had been appointed to the head of the Onyx Faction. Out of my three peers he seemed to be most competent but tried the hardest to convince me he was a total idiot.

His showing up at Brindonford and getting a promise out of me to show up for a meeting back at the Pyramid the next day was not that strange. Nor was his interest in the Winter Wight dust... I mean COME ON: Winter Wight dust! Who wouldn't want a jar of that?

It was when I showed up at the meeting and someone tried a Dominate Monster spell on me that I knew something was up. The Burning Skin seemed oblivious to the attempt and whoever did it had a quickened Teleport to get them out before I could pick them out. I kept silent about it but with Val's news I know it's time to take out the garbage.

I'm going to Cone of Cold until he is a frozen lump of melting skin and then take a hammer to his frozen ass!

Scorch