Wizardru's Story Hour (updated 11/21)

[Zad]

The Forge of Fury - Chapter 1

The Forge of Fury - Chapter 1

Second published module. We were being sent north because clearly Greyhawk was too dangerous for us for the time being, and because Lord Gelban wanted us to help his old friend. I can now speculate he had other reasons for us being in the area also.


OOC Notes:

Wizardru would like to move us along to the fortress quickly since there’s quite a bit of stuff there to do. He also has warned us that this won’t be as easy as the Citadel. Personally I think we did great with the ambush of the orcs and that’s the kind of teamwork we need to use in the fortress and if we do, we should be in good shape.

Experience from this session is 400 each.


This Week’s Adventure:

Perhaps ‘completed’ was too hasty a term. I thought I had finished my studies for the time being. I was beginning to assemble my supplies and some warmer clothing for the trip, when my instructor informed me that I had one more task to complete. I was to make preparations and at moonrise I would summon a familiar. I was put off by the idea at first – my life had been so hectic of late, I was unsure of travelling with an animal in tow. While I have had pets before, they were always in a quiet home with a warm hearth. I did not think an animal would take well to adventures such as the ones I now found myself in. Then again there was a day that I did not think I would take well to those adventures either. He seemed to anticipate my concerns and told me that I underestimated the loyalty and intelligence of such animals and that he had no doubt it would help me greatly in the trials to come. Further it would be an important step in allowing the magic within me to flourish and perform at my direction.

So as instructed, I gathered the necessary materials, and at moonrise, we began. I had studied the ritual thoroughly and felt prepared – it seemed straightforward enough. Then my instructor said “You must listen to me carefully Kayleigh – this is not as simple as it seems. Once the ritual has started you must follow it through to the end. You must not stop, regardless of distraction, or pain, or any interruption. If you do not complete it, there are unfortunate consequences. Heed my warning.” This gave me pause – I had no idea what type of interruption could occur but there was an ominous tone in his voice that made me think my persistence would be tested and the consequences would be severe.

At moonrise we began. It went well at first and I had few missteps. The words of the old tongue flowed easily and the first few hours went by quickly.

After a few hours, I became aware of a presence. I saw nothing and heard nothing. My instructor was napping on a couch at the time. But I was sure there was something nearby, watching. It wasn’t malicious or evil, but more of a feeling of curiosity – as though I had attracted something’s attention. The feeling grew stronger over the next hours until I was certain I was being closely examined by something unseen. I continued the ritual.

By the time dawn was near, I had grown almost used to the presence. I had come to accept it as part of the ritual and continued with the ancient words. The incense still burned slowly in the braziers and the candles still burned strongly, and I drew strength from their quiet flames. But the building presence was coalescing into something more . . . tangible for lack of a better word. Just before dawn I added more incense to a brazier and when I looked up at the window I saw a shape there. It startled me enough that I almost forgot the next phrase of the incantation. Fortunately I recovered my wits quickly and continued.

I sat again in my circle and looked at the shadow. As the sun slowly rose, it was clear this was no shadowy undead figure – it was some feline predator – silent, vicious, and deadly. Then a little more light came through the window and instead I saw a cat.

No longer vicious and deadly, it was simply a cat. There were certainly enough of them in Greyhawk. He studied me from the window for some time. And the building presence that had been in the room for hours blended with his warm golden eyes. No chance visit from a stray cat, this creature was considering whether to answer my call. And as it watched me, I continued my incantation.

After an hour or more, he jumped down from the window with a simple grace. He made no sound as he landed, but my instructor still awoke with a start and looked about. He saw me, still repeating my incantation. And then he saw the cat, and he smiled slightly, but then tried to hide it so I would not notice his grin. And he watched.

The cat slowly investigated the room. My eyes were locked on him. He was fascinating. He moved without a sound, every step perfectly placed. He was brown and orange and looked like a small tiger. His tail flicked absently as he moved around the room, investigating shelves and books. He seemed to take little interest in me nor my instructor.

I continued my incantation unhurriedly – according to the ritual, I would be continuing until nearly moonrise. The cat could investigate to his hearts content. He wound his way around the room until he was near the couch. My teacher was still sitting on the couch watching us both. The cat sat down and looked at him with some impatience. When my instructor did nothing but return the gaze, the cat let out an impertinent meow. My teacher quickly got off the couch and backed away, and the cat looked at him with a disdainful sideways look and got on the couch. I had to fight from laughing and interrupting my chant. The cat then sniffed at the leftover food on my instructors plate and wrinkled his nose at it. He then turned back to lay on the couch in a sunny spot and watch me. At that point I decided he was the most beautiful creature I ever had seen.

He spent an hour napping and watching me at the same time. It was around mid-morning and the sun had shifted away from the couch enough that it was no longer warm, and he seemed bored with laying about. He got down and walked over to me, just within the chalk circle I had drawn on the floor. He was within arms reach of me but any move towards him would interrupt the ritual. He sat down and looked at me as I continued my chant.

He looked at me again. His look said “Pet me.” And I dearly wanted to. He was so majestic and adorable at the same time I wanted to reach out and pet him. And the look from my instructor echoed his warning in my ears – to pet him was to interrupt the ceremony.

As if slightly annoyed that I did not grasp his message, he moved a few inches closer and again looked at me. This time it was more of a “Pet me silly elf! Why aren’t you petting me yet?” And again I nearly did. But I continued my incantation.

And he turned his head slightly and looked again as if to say “Pet me, please?” and he let out the softest squeak. And he was so adorable and wonderful that I couldn’t refuse him. And I let the words from the chant fall from my lips and I reached out and scratched him between his ears. He raised his head into my hand and walked into my lap and settled down for further attention.

As he did, I realized I’d failed. I had stopped the ceremony, and wasted all my efforts. Likely the bonding was not complete and this precious cat would depart. Not to mention whatever other consequences awaited me. I looked shamefully up at my instructor, even so only feeling slight remorse as I could feel the cat’s purr in my lap.

Rather than looking at me in stern disapproval, he was smiling. My confusion must have been evident on my face, and he simply said “To be willing to accept consequences for the love of your familiar is truly to be worthy of him.” He smiled again and left us alone. And then I understood that the true test was to know when to stop the ceremony.

I’ve named him Rasha, in old elven. It’s a name he’s agreed to deal with for the time being. He has his own name but it’s more of a concept right now than something I can verbalize. He’s quite smart and I know he’ll make a wonderful companion. And I’m going to need his help for this trip.

After our preparations were complete, Lord Gelban briefed us again. We reviewed the route and he also added that there had been several raids on merchant caravans in the area near Blasingdel and he would like us to look into those as well as a favor to the local authorities. The rest was much like our first briefing, and we were shown the maker’s mark of the dwarven smith whose weapons we were to retrieve.

We set off quietly and were hardly noticed leaving town. Of course if we had been, I’d have been surprised given the number of comings and goings around Greyhawk. We had an uneventful trip northwest, both following rivers and crossing overland, staying at inns and roadside taverns for the most part.

But as we were nearing the edge of Furyondy’s territory, fate brought us across a most disturbing scene. We were travelling along the edge of a small forest and came across a band of orcs in the distance. We carefully scouted them out and saw several disturbing sights. First, they were marked with Bright Hills heraldry – these orcs had come from far to the south beyond Greyhawk. Second, they were clearly planting some type of small sapling. Third, they were being supervised by an orcish Druid and his wolf companion. The Druid seemed respectful to the orcs but also was clearly the one giving orders. My mind immediately shuddered with thoughts of the Gulthias tree and the horrors it spawned and my instinct said there was a link. And instinct that proved to be sadly correct. We went backwards along their path and Rasha’s nose easily found the newly planted saplings, for the ground they had been planted in was soaked with fresh blood. There were two varieties of plants. From the orc’s conversations we inferred that one was a twig horror and the other was a bark blight. The twig horrors were mentioned in my vision from Olidamarra and again I shivered.

We collected ourselves and quickly devised a plan to ambush the orcs. Orcs are not persistent hunters – they are too lazy to chase healthy prey. They will however chase an injured animal. I was all too familiar with the ways of the wretched orcs – it was due to them I first set aside a spellbook for a bow, and because of them many in my village were killed. We devised a plan that entailed using a spell to create an image of an injured stag, and this would lure the orcs in to our ambush.

But as we circled to get in front of the orcs, Jozan’s horse took a bad step and went down. Fortunately neither Jozan nor the horse was injured but the horse let out enough of a cry to alert the orcs. Our carefully laid plan was about to fall apart unless some revisions were made quickly.

Instead of conjuring the image of a stag, I instead conjured the image of a horse, limping on one leg. The orcs were hardly particular about their dinner and this would easily explain the noise. The horse limped away from them and towards us, drawing five of the six orcs with it. (Fortunately the Druid was nowhere to be seen, having gone on ahead presumably.) The orcs were within ten feet of the limping horse and we struck. I doubt they even realized it was a phantasm until we attacked.

The battle was brief and decisive. Dravot invoked Pelor’s blessings upon us all. Valanthe, who had disappeared into the tall grass, reappeared behind one orc and dealt him a severe blow. Scorch called a magical sleep down upon some of the orcs. During the battle one orc awakened another but both were cut down. The last orc made a run for the shelter of the woods when he realized his life would be forfeit if he remained. I could do nothing but smile as I watched him run in the open field. I drew and fired twice, and he rolled down the far side of a small rise dead from my fire. I was impressed by my companions quick action – clearly we had all learned much in our adventures thus far. We checked the orcs and found more saplings but little else of merit. But there were signs that indicated that the orcs worshipped Vecna. Our eyes turned towards the forest and the remaining orc and the Druid, but we were brought up short. A storm was gathering out of the clear sky – the Druid was aware of our ambush and was preparing an action of his own. If the storm reached full strength he would be able to summon it’s deadly lightning and we would stand little chance against such an assault. Deciding we were overmatched, we withdrew from the area with all speed. It was more important to bring word of this onward than it was to hunt down the remaining orcs, and little would be served by our death in any case.

We rode onward, and soon crossed into Highfolk. Jozan was raised here and knew the area well. The countryside was dotted with alarm bells and while seemingly a peaceful farming community, Jozan assured us that they folk were well prepared for any assault. It was becoming dark and we would not reach the city before nightfall. Jozan suggested that we take shelter in a farmhouse and that all are welcome who are willing to work to earn their keep. He could have been no more right. The folk of the home, both human and elven, were warm and welcoming to strangers and we had a good meal in exchange for our skills, each according to his talents. Dravot and Jozan were able to heal the minor ailments of the local folk. Rackhir and I assisted in re-supplying the arrow stock of the house and other household chores. Scorch I believe was washing dishes for his hands were rather wrinkled and he kept mumbling about lye soap the rest of the night. During the evening I managed to find out more about the Stonetooth without being too obvious about it and had a good idea of how to get there.

As we sat about the common room, talking with the locals and enjoying the wine, an elf arrived with his party. The locals hailed him by name as Aran’gel. I was told he was the local warden. He and his men scattered about the room, and he hung his bow on a rack near the door, in a spot that seemed almost reserved for him. The bow was gilt in silver and while it was clearly a masterpiece of the boyer’s art, it was the enchantment that made it truly exceptional. I should be as fortunate to have such a bow some day. Strangely his quiver had but three arrows in it – surely enchanted as well. Aran’gel recognized Jozan and joined us at our table. He was a pleasant and handsome man, and a wealth of information about the local area. Jozan trusted the man and was able to get detailed information about the raids on the merchants, the way to Blasingdel and to the Stonetooth beyond and so on. Jozan also informed him of our encounter with the orcs and what the saplings surely were. Even though the area was beyond Highfolk’s borders, he said that he would strike out with a party and deal with the issue. We warned him of the Druid we encountered and his apparent strength and he simply said he had a way to deal with Druids and removed an arrow from his boot and laid it on the table. It was apparent to me that there was nothing special about this arrow. I looked up from the arrow to him and it suddenly all came together – he was an elven champion – one of the arcane archers who had melded the Art and the Bow into a single art. Each time he drew and fired he put spellcraft into the act and his arrows would fall enchanted as surely as the one I found in the Citadel. I had met only of his like before, in Celene, passing through meeting with my father. I barely had the talent to understand who he was then, but there was no mistake as to the nature of Aran’gel. At that point Rasha’s curiosity also manifested and he stopped napping inside my cloak to come up on the table and investigate Aran’gel for himself. Aran’gel regarding him for a moment then held out his hand, which Rasha sniffed and then allowed himself to be pet in his own insistent way. Aran’gel seemed amused by this, and looked at me and remarked “A new familiar? The bond is fresh but very strong.” I nodded and we continued our conversation.

Upon reflection, I was even more surprised at Aran’gel – I did not realize that Highfolk had such elves among them. Of course since some elves left Celene and settled in Highfolk, it’s possible that the tradition came with them. Or perhaps he received his training elsewhere. When we return through here, I may have to ask him.

In the morning after a good breakfast, we set out towards the city of Highfolk. Once there, we found a merchant caravan heading towards Blasingdel. We offered to accompany them as bodyguards in an attempt to ambush the raiders – since they were not easily found by organized forces, we hoped we could bring them to us. However the caravan was not attacked and we reached Blasingdel without incident. There we spoke to the mayor who informed us that Lord Gelban’s last group had determined that the orcs were holed up in a fortress near the Stonetooth. So it seems both our goals point northwards into the mountains and the Stonetooth. It would seem that the orcs have moved in and we’ll need to evict them before doing our survey of Glitterhaime.

I just wish it wasn’t so cold.

 

[Zad]

The Forge of Fury - Chapter 2

The Forge of Fury - Chapter 2

OOC Notes:

Experience this session: 1000

There will be some corrections/additions to last session’s notes – Wizardru will be sending me something.


Notes for Next Time:

This session was a great piece of work. We’d have been hard pressed to make that go much better. We’ll need to rest soon. If we find the orc chief quickly we can probably take him out and then rest. If not we’ll need to rest before that, but that obviously has a few risks to it.


This Week’s Adventure:

We left our horses in Blasingdel. They wouldn’t save us much time with the rocky terrain we’d have to cross. We set off into the pine forests and made for the foothills of the Stonetooth. It took about three days for us to reach the imposing stone, and we camped our last night with the giant rock behind us.

As we approached we could occasionally make out a plume of smoke rising from the mountain. We also saw a road criss-crossing the mountain leading to the Stonetooth, which we avoided for obvious reasons. None of us were eager to charge into the teeth of this fortification – surely the orcs would be well prepared for visitors. So we spent some time trying to locate the source of the smoke. Rackhir fortunately has a fine sense of direction and was able to get us in the right area. Valanthe and I scouted around quite a bit and were about to give up when a stroke of blind luck revealed a chimney. Now that we knew the location, we returned and brought the rest of the group.

The chimney stood some four feet out of the earth made from local stone and with an opening about three feet square. It seemed to descend into a natural fissure in the mountain – the stonework was just there to keep from setting the surrounding forest ablaze. Fortunately whatever fire burned below was very small, and there was very little smoke rising from the chimney. We decided that whatever was below was probably preferable to entering via the front door, and we prepared for a descent.

Valanthe set off down a rope. Unfortunately the fissure was a fair bit deeper than her rope and she had to attach another length during her descent. She emerged into a crude kitchen with a stew pot on a low fire. The rest of us made our way down. Fortunately the kitchen was empty at the time. However in the cave just beyond, three orcs were playing dice while one lazily watched a cage. Valanthe was able to knock out the guard during her initial scouting and we made quick preparations to ambush the remaining orcs. She and led the attack and Jozan was able to quickly and quietly drop the remaining orc. I took the time to say an elvish curse as I slit the throat of the unconscious orc.

In the cage were two prisoners – Geradil and Courana. They were local farmers who were captured by an orcish raiding party and were being held for ransom. Unfortunately their family was not a wealthy one and could not afford such a ransom. They had been there a month, hardly eating and badly treated. A hushed discussion convinced them that while we would certainly rescue them, we had not yet secured the area and the safest place for them right now was in the cage. There were three passages out of this area, one with a door, slightly ajar. Dravot was investigating near the door, and I joined him. The door abruptly slammed shut – the orcs on the other side must have heard us and were making preparations. We quickly regrouped and opened the door.

In the next area was a room split by a deep chasm. On our side were several large rocks while on the far side were only some burning braziers providing light. A rope bridge crossed the chasm. On the far side were three orcs with bows, and one with a large axe, poised to cut the bridge.

It didn’t require a master tactician to see that the tables were turned. The orcs would wait to ambush outsiders from the dark and the rocks while the invaders would be on the far side in the light. We did not wish to see the bridge cut however so we moved quickly to the cover of the rocks. Scorch set his magical sleep upon some of the orcs while Rackhir and I set to work on them. The ranged fight was clearly in our favor and the orcs were killed before the bridge could be cut or an alarm could be raised. Valanthe crossed the bridge and scouted a bit – beyond the door on the far side was the cavern that led into the fortress from the road. There were arrow slits, manned by orcs, ready to attack any invading force, and at least one orc in the cavern itself – probably a scout. I crossed as an oddity in the wall drew her attention. She had discovered the secret door that must lead to the arrowslits and the waiting orcs. I suspected a matching one on the other side, but could not find it without her help. The rest of the group crossed the bridge and we set to confront them.

The action began when Jozan kicked in the front door. I was distraught that he would do something so loud and alert all the orcs to our presence. But on the other side were two orcs, waiting to do the same thing. One orc was bowled over backwards by Jozan’s bold action and I reminded myself to have faith in the divine. One the south side, there were two orcs in a small room. Valanthe and Rackhir were able to dispatch them quickly despite them realizing someone was there. On the north side, There were five orcs. Dravot used a burst of sound to stun some of the orcs and I began dropping them. Dravot then moved in with his mace, while I continued to shoot. The odds mounted when Rackhir, freed from the south side, joined the fight. In the center, Scorch waded in with his staff to help Jozan with the orcs. I’m not sure what came over him – such a lust for close combat is not his usual style. This was reinforced when one orc swung hard at him with an axe, and wounded him severely. Fortunately Jozan was able to put them down before they could inflict further injury to Scorch.

We assessed the scene afterward. A total of sixteen orcs lay dead at our feet, and their hold on the entryway was broken. After looking over the bodies for anything useful, we dumped them in the chasm to avoid alerting anyone passing through. It was a very deep chasm and there was the vague sound of water at the bottom. We then returned to the prisoners.

While it was possible for them to escape now, they would be alone. They knew two more orcish raiding parties were still outside the fort somewhere and would be returning in a day or two. They were also weak from their captivity. We gave them blankets and furs and food and released them from their cage with the understanding they would hide and remain inside the fort until we were ready to leave and we would escort them home.

They were able to provide a fair bit of useful information. The raiding parties consist of four or five orcs. Two were currently out, while one we had already killed. The two that were out could return any time in the next day or two depending on their success. The orcs were being led by something called Great Ulfe and he was no orc. He was eight or nine feet tall. We suspected he was an ogre.

We began to explore further. In the next area were supplies, foodstuffs and trade goods – the booty of the orcish raiding parties no doubt. One passage was blocked with tightly wedged crates and boxes – when we removed them we saw a large stone chamber with dwarven carvings and a large stairway heading down. Since the orcs seem to have walled this area off, we decided to explore it later. First we would remove all the orcs and eliminate the threat of ambush from the rear.

Another room held four orcs. Unfortunately surprise was not something on our side, but nor was it on theirs. We entered the room to eliminate them.

These orcs however were much cannier combatants and proved much harder to defeat. I entered and took my first shot, and Jozan then entered to screen me. The orcs moved up to him and tripped him, leaving him vulnerable. Another orc struck him a heavy blow while others closed in. The attempted to trip Valanthe and I both, and while their strength is not to be taken lightly, their agility is, and we were able to twist away and stay on our feet. The fight was looking rather grim for a moment but the tide began to turn as more of us entered. As each orc fell we were able to direct more attention on to the next one and soon they all lie dead. Jozan had been deeply wounded during the battle but Dravot’s attentions were able to repair much of the damage.

Again we disposed of the bodies and tended our wounds. Hopefully not all the orcs would be this tenacious but I wouldn’t count on that.

 

[Zad]

The Forge of Fury - Chapter 3

The Forge of Fury - Chapter 3

OOC Notes:

Experience This Session: 1250 each. 250 point bonus to Jozan for handling the bear. 250 point bonus to Dravot for asking Meepo about troglodytes. Anyone wanting to double-check my math would be more than welcome to do so. Breakdown was:

1. 2 troglodytes CR 1 = 600
2. 1 bear CR 4 = 1200
3. Orc encounter – due to difficulty modified by 1.5 so 3400 * 1.5 = 5100
1. Great Ulf CR 3 = 800
2. Old Yarrick CR 3 = 800
3. 3 wolves CR 1 = 900
4. 6 orcs CR ½ = 900
5. 4 stirges CR ½ = 600 (Wizardru verify CR? That’s the only one I didn’t get from you.)

I expect we’ll all level next time. Wizardru, can we level on the fly or no?


Notes for next time:

We should probably expect more troglodytes. Can’t think of much else.


This Week’s Adventure:

There was one hallway left to explore. We assumed we would find the remaining orcs and their leader nearby somewhere. Little did we know….

The hallway split to the left and right, slightly askew. One branch led to a short set of stairs up to an iron door with a human skull affixed to the front with a spike. Down the other branch was a carved statue of a dwarf and another door. Rasha began wrinkling his nose – he smelled some other animal but wasn’t sure what. No doubt the smell of orc everywhere was masking the scent. As Valanthe scouted the area she quickly discovered and disabled a gas trap near the door with the statue. While she was working, Rasha finally caught the scent – wolves.

Valanthe heard orcs behind the door with the statue. Valanthe secreted herself in the shadows of the statue while Jozan kicked in the door. Inside were six orcs, and one more, slightly larger. Remarkably the orcs did not charge but instead established a shield wall in front of the larger orc. A quick glance showed this orc to be a grizzled veteran and strong commander – orcs do not take to tactical thinking quickly or well.

The orcs stood their ground and began chanting all the while beating their swords on their shields. “Ulf Ulf Ulf” over and over. We advanced into the room cautiously and began using bows to take out the orcs. Rackhir felled two orcs when the door at the top of the stairs burst open.

“Who dares to challenge the great Ulf?!?”

His huge voice rang out across the hall, made larger by the fact that he was facing our lightly guarded rear, and mage larger still by his towering size. The great Ulf was an ogre – the leader of this tribe the prisoners had warned us of. He set forth his hounds upon us and joined the fray.

I should note at this point we were all relieved to discover that his hounds were in fact wolves. We later all viewed it as something of a status symbol that we have come so far that our enemies no longer train rats to serve as their hunting dogs but in fact can have true wolves.

With this bit of relief, the rear ranks of the group quickly tried to withdraw into the room, while those of us there did our best to make quick work of the orcs. Jozan approached the line and landed a blow that went straight through one orc and into the next. I killed yet another. Quickly the entire orcish line was reduced to nothing but Old Yarrick, the veteran in command, locked in combat with Jozan.

The wolves rushed into the room and began attacking. One stayed in the hall and knocked Scorch to the ground. He was however saved…by Meepo. Yes Meepo has clearly been watching Jozan too much, and leapt to the attack, digging his short sword into the wolf’s hindquarters, allowing Scorch to slip away.

Ulf covered the hallway to our room in a few great steps. Valanthe managed to make some quick attacks against the wolves as they went by but waited for Ulf. Rackhir stood his ground to guard the rest of the group that was withdrawing into the room, planting an arrow into Ulf.

Yarrick landed a solid blow on Jozan, tearing his hauberk open. But this orc was on my short list, and I took careful aim and placed an arrow squarely in his back, and he fell. This left us free to deal with the wolves and Ulf. Jozan turned on the wolf menacing him, while Valanthe struck at Ulf, leaping out from the shadows and drove her blade deep. Rackhir planted arrows in his chest, bravely holding his ground against Ulf. I was taking shots from across the room where I’d moved to allow my fellows access.

The great Ulf was fortunately not as great as he would have had us believe, and even this massive beast could not hold up against the flurry of attacks set against him. Rackhir hit Ulf with another arrow and Ulf tottered and finally fell nearly crushing Rackhir under his massive corpse.

Dravot was closest to one of the remaining wolves and smashed it into unconsciousness. The last wolf in the hallway with Meepo concluded it was in danger, and fled the area as fast as it could.

After making sure that none of the orcs would ever rise again, we took quick stock of the situation. There were two chests in Ulf’s room yielding an enchanted rapier, some potions and a large array of coinage. The orc barracks also yielded some minor finds.

Based on the numbers the hostages had given us, we were fairly sure we had broken the orcs hold on the fortress. We did not think there were any other orcs in the fortress and only the two hunting parties that remained at large. We discussed our options – clearly our hostages would need to be escorted back to Blasingdel. I personally would have liked to remain and ambush the remaining orcs – it would mean ten less orcs in the world and I would take great joy in that. However given that we knew nothing of their sentry schedule or other precautions this could be difficult. Instead we chose to leave the orcs a message – leave or die. We did this by placing the heads of Ulf and Yarrick on stakes outside the fortress. The message was one the orcs would clearly understand.

Once ready, we escorted Geradil and Courana back to Blasingdel. We took with us the coin we had recovered as well as the weapons and armor but left the other supplies behind. Their family was grateful for their return and rewarded us with four potions to cure wounds – always a welcome addition to one’s supplies. We asked the mayor to hold our findings for us while we continued our explorations and he was happy to do so. We also told him of the foodstuffs and other goods the orcs had stolen, and he would arrange their recovery once we informed him that it was safe to enter the Forge.

After resting a day in Blasingdel, we returned to the Glitterhame. It was obvious that in the week since we left, the orcs had returned, and had grabbed a few items and left for good. We felt sure that Blasingdel had seen the last of them. We then continued our explorations and headed for the carved stone staircase that was in the passage behind the piled up supplies.

It does not take a great thinker to realize that the orcs had blocked off the passage for a reason. And that whatever was in this area, it was of sufficient threat to worry the orcs, but it was not intelligent enough to be able to remove the crates that the orcs wedged into the passage. It did also not require much thought to realize we would find out soon enough. With a great clang, Jozan broke the gate free from the rust holding it in place. Valanthe shuddered visibly at this amount of noise or perhaps just lack of finesse. In any event we entered the grand stairway, wary that the skeletons we saw would soon rise up from the floor.

But they didn’t. The threat in this hall came on leathery wings, flapping from down the stairs. Four stirges fell upon us. These bloodsuckers are not uncommon in such caves and their bloodlust drove them to us. One managed to latch on to Jozan but he promptly smashed it. We killed the rest before they could endanger any of the rest of us. Jozan felt slightly weak from the blood loss but insisted he was fine to continue.

Two doors sat on opposite sides of the great staircase. One was carved in a great relief of a dwarven face covering the wall. The other was more unassuming. Valanthe found the simple door was locked with the key still in the lock on the far side. It was a simple enough matter to dislodge it and retrieve the key, and we entered. Inside we found the orc shaman’s quarters – recently abandoned of course. We were not sure if the shaman was here when we were here last or was out with the raiding parties. But he had packed up his things and left little behind save a variety of skulls suspended from the ceiling on strings.

The other door proved more interesting. Valanthe examined it carefully and determined it was trapped – small channels surrounded the door ready to shoot something out at the unsuspecting. Valanthe then set to disarming the trap. I was under the impression that usually one wishes to disarm a trap without setting it off however Valanthe must have had some deeper knowledge that eluded me. In her attempts she accidentally set off the trap and was sprayed in alchemist’s fire. There was a tense moment as we extinguished the flames. She had some minor burns afterward but I think suffered the most damage to her pride. The door was in fact not a door at all but simply the trap in itself, and led nowhere.

We wound our way down the great staircase into the darkness. A natural stream of flowing water crossed the stairway, apparently having eaten its way through the rock. We descended into a natural cave area that reeked of a foul odor. (Even stronger than orc.)

The cave led to another cave with several exits. One passage had large tree branches forming a cage of sorts across its mouth. In the cave Valanthe could make out two lizard like beasts hiding. Once it was clear we knew of them, one ran to the cage and yelled at something inside. Out came a large bear which promptly attacked Valanthe. I shot some arrows in it hoping to change its mind but it seemed determined. Dravot realized they might be troglodytes and asked Meepo if he knew anything about them. Meepo warned us that they are foul smelling beasts and that the stench can easily overcome you. Jozan grabbed the torch from Meepo and faced down the bear. Once he had cowed the bear back, he through it a hunk of meat, which the bear proceeded to warily eat. The rest of us turned on the troglodytes and wasted little time killing them. Once the troglodytes were dead, the bear took his meat and began ambling up one of the tunnels. It had the scent of fresh air and likely led to the outside. The bear had probably been held by the troglodytes for some time and it was anxious for escape.

Given two troglodytes, there were surely more nearby.

 

[Zad]

The Forge of Fury - Chapter 4

The Forge of Fury - Chapter 4

OOC Notes:

Experience this session: a whopping 2500. Hit points and attack bonuses are effective immediately, but other special abilities may have to wait for a trip to town. Ask Wizardru for individual specifics.


Notes for Next Time:

Next time is Saturday, Feb. 10 – this will be a daytime game. Exact start time TBD.

Given the train we pulled from the second level, I’m guessing most of it is empty now. The trogs may or may not be completely wiped out (except for the two that escaped). A key question is whether or not they have any more they can throw at us. Given that we have killed the chief and the big lizzy, I’m inclined to think they threw all they had at us and that any survivors will slither away but that’s just a guess. I am fairly sure we could use another day’s rest after that encounter. If we think there’s nothing left of the trogs, we could do a town run safely. However if the remaining trogs leave, they might take some of the booty with them.

As far as the trog fight, wow. Great job.


This week’s Adventure:

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to smell a flower again.

The stench. The unbelievable stench. It’s soaked into everything. I think I have to burn my clothes. Hopefully not my armor as well. Rasha is less than pleased.

But I’m jumping ahead. Let me back up. After the two troglodytes we killed, took some precautions. Scorch used some of the perfumes I had bought on the last visit to town and fashioned some crude masks to protect us from the troglodyte stench. We then explored the caverns further. There were several branches but they met back up, and we only found three notable areas. I’m writing them down slightly out of order simply for my convenience.

The first was a small cave. In it was a clearly visible skeleton, probably dwarven. It was overgrown with some kind of mold and most of the cave was covered in this brown carpet. A sword was however clearly visible near the body and still gleaming. Farther back, another skeleton lay, but it was so covered in growths as to be almost invisible. Valanthe seemed quite taken with the sword, and with whatever other goods might be here. I myself was cautious – I had heard many tales of deadly molds and fungus. If the troglodytes had not disturbed the area to get the sword, there was clearly some type of hazard here. Jozan was convinced that it was Yellow Mold and was indeed deadly – easily capable of killing a man within minutes. We initially left the area alone and planned to return. But later circumstances gave us some time to deal with it. We burned off the mold, which lit quite readily, and after the smoke cleared, investigated. We found a bastard sword, surely magical and bearing Durgeddin’s mark, as Lord Gelban had shown us. Valanthe also recovered a fine helm, and a set of scale mail. Rackhir is holding the blade until we can return with it.

The second area was a dwarven sepulcher. There were several empty carved stone coffins, and three that were occupied. Bargul the old (died of old age), Garin Orcdoom (died in battle) and Numik the unlucky (died in the foundry in an accident with molten iron) were all entombed here, along with the usual warnings of evil befalling whomever should disturb them. Not one member of the group even considered opening the caskets.

However when he entered this room, Dravot had some kind of vision. He stood unmoving for a few minutes, and Jozan felt an evil force drawing Dravot out. He managed to protect him from this force, and Dravot then fell to the floor, incoherent. After a few minutes he regained his senses somewhat, and said he had a vision, seeing the family crypt and an evil presence that was drawing him inside.

Dravot needed some time to rest and pray and surely to recover his wits. So some of us went to deal with the fungus in the cave I mentioned above.

The third area we found was the entrance to the Glitterhame itself. A gigantic cavern opened up before us – a patch wound down to a banded iron door, while another stairway led upwards to some other location. Several ledges overlooked the cavern. Wary of an ambush, Valanthe scouted the area out. Unfortunately she found exactly that. Two creatures waited for us in the darkness. They had the body of a serpent but had four tentacles and a beak-like mouth, like some kind of misshapen squid taken to the land. Later, Scorch told me he thinks they were Grick, a creature he had read about in some text. Once discovered, they quickly charged at Valanthe.

She scrambled back towards us. I drew and fired, only to have my arrow bounce off its rubbery hide. It was a sound shot so there was surely something odd about these beasts. Other weapons were equally unable to affect them. However Jozan was able to slice up the side of one with Shatterspike. We all quickly switched to whatever magical weapons we had. Scorch conjured a flaming sphere but the agile creatures kept squirming around it. While we mobbed one grick, the other attacked and seriously wounded Dravot. Dravot managed to hold off the other in a fighting retreat. His attempt to Fear the grick failed. He then cast Doom, a form of curse from his god, and this let him hold it off. After the first one died we turned on the second, and it finally was unable to avoid the sphere of flame and died in fire.

After that, we decided that now would probably be a good time to rest before pushing further into the Glitterhame. I had expected to encounter more troglodytes before entering the fortress proper but they were surely somewhere. And we were tired and hurt. So we withdrew to the top of the great stairway to rest. Scorch cast an alarm spell on the stairway and we ate, healed and slept. Dravot had a fitful night and seemed wracked by nightmares but finally quieted down.

And then the alarm went off. A small bell ringing woke the humans. And we could barely make out the hurried retreat of what sounded like a single set of padded feet. The lingering smell of course left no doubt as to the species of the visitor.

We still needed to rest and this was the best place we could find, therefore the humans went back to sleep. In hindsight perhaps we should have moved. An hour later, Scorch sat bolt upright from a sound sleep. He said loudly “The alarm has been counterspelled!” And we braced for an assault. For a while, nothing happened. Then a large troglodyte appeared out of nowhere and stabbed Jozan with a spear. As quickly as he had appeared, he was gone. At the same time, another troglodyte appeared and struck at Dravot, however this one remained visible afterward. Immediately after, troglodytes began coming up the stairs.

We all began searching for some sign of the invisible attacker. Jozan moved towards the stairway, cleanly beheading the first troglodyte. He could hear the sound of a whip being cracked – the troglodytes were perhaps more scared of what was behind them than us. Scorch conjured an acid arrow and struck the troglodyte attacking Dravot, causing quite a bit of damage.

The invisible troglodyte then threw a small spell that dazed Scorch. Valanthe waited for an opportunity to find the hidden troglodyte while Dravot threw a spell causing a blast of sound in the stairwell, stunning most of the troglodytes. Rackhir shot at the stunned troglodytes, killing two quickly.

The invisible troglodyte then tried to throw another spell we were quite familiar with – sleep. As the spell started, the beast appeared. I was scanning for him and shot however in my haste, my shot went wide. The spell completed and I felt it wash over me, and simply smiled, knowing it would have no effect. Rackhir was not so fortunate and fell asleep mere feet from the beast.

At the stairs, Jozan threw some oil into the stairway while Scorch, his wits now recovered, conjured a flaming sphere and sent it down the stairway also.

The creature stayed visible – apparently that spell had run its course. Dravot Doomed the beast. Fearful that he would step up and kill the sleeping Rackhir, Valanthe put herself between Rackhir and the large troglodyte.

Dravot cast again, this time paralyzing the troglodyte chief in his tracks right in front of me. Meanwhile more troglodytes charge up the stairs, following by a huge lizard, being driven by troglodytes behind it with whips.

I patiently drew an arrow and stared coldly at the helpless beast in front of me. It had started this fight intending to kill us as we slept helplessly, and I enjoyed the irony. I drew and fired – at this distance I could scarcely miss – and my arrow plunged into his eye and he died instantly. The paralysis still held him upright as a grim warning for his fellow beasts. Valanthe woke Rackhir who quickly gained his feet.

The advancing troglodytes turned on Dravot, surrounding him. I turned and fired, killing two of them. Rackhir shot at the large lizard advancing on us. Meepo chose to enter the fray and came to Dravot’s aid, but alas the Savage Sword of Meepo™ found nothing but air.

The lizard turned on Jozan, scooping him up in his massive jaws. Valanthe, for reasons I must admit elude me, chose to jump on top of the thrashing lizard and attack. Given that the creature could surely not turn its ravenous jaws to that area, perhaps this was a wise move. The two remaining troglodytes – the ones driving the lizard from behind – decided the situation was not to their liking and began running. This left us with only the massive lizard to deal with and we all began attacking furiously. Dravot, seeing Jozan’s life nearing an end, crossed the stairwell and managed to lay his healing touch on him, helping him survive while we tried to kill the lizard.

It was very badly injured, and having some prey in its mouth, decided to run. It scuttled down the stairs at amazing speeds, Jozan bobbing in its mouth and Valanthe attempting to remain on its back. Jozan managed to bring his sword around for a blow and the creature could stand no more. It bled from the wound and lost consciousness. Unfortunately it was heading towards a bend in the stairway and a fifty foot drop, and such a beast does not stop quickly. When we managed to run down the stairs, we saw the burst remains of the lizard at the bottom of the cliff, but no sign of Valanthe and Jozan. Then they stepped from the shadows on the stairway, shaken but intact. Apparently Valanthe had managed to grab Jozan and jump clear before the lizard went over the edge. A quick look showed that there was no sign of the two escaped troglodytes.


Excerpt From Dravot’s Personal Journal:

We have returned to the grand entrance to the Glitterhame to rest for the night. We are reasonably certain that the orc areas will not be a threat, and Scorch has assured us that his alarm spell will alert us to any treachery from below. My arm still hurts, and this bruise on my arm alarms me to no end. I do not recognize it, though it is obviously a holy symbol. Hopefully some research in town can help determine what it is.

Today was...well, one would hesitate to call it interesting. Terrifying is much more like it. In the troglodyte caves, we found a room, sepulcheral in intent. There were many sarcophagi here, but only a couple were in use. It was a peaceful room and, as near as I could tell, there was no undead influence in the area.

I must do some research into the nature of such a place. It seems to me now, that it is strongly tied in with that of the dead. I do not know whether this is a supernatural phenomenon or geological/geographical, or merely due to the age and intent of the room.

Today was probably the most terrifying day of my life. Not even the day when I knew that my brother Roget wasn't coming back compares to today, although the feeling was incredibly similar.

We entered this room with the intent of searching it for clues or signs of Durgeddin, as well as a passage to other areas within the Glitterhame. We hadn't gone far into the room when I began to feel dazed and lightheaded. I looked to someone nearby for support, as I wasn't sure that I could stand on my own.

The next thing I knew, the floor seemed to tilt down, and I was sliding down it, away from the party, into a corridor. I was flying through the Glitterhame at unreal speeds, constantly afraid of hitting a wall, suddenly turning at the last possible second, always going faster. I do not know how long this journey lasted; possibly seconds, but it felt like hours.

In the distance, I saw a wall with a heavy iron door in it. It was leagues away, yet I knew that it was my destination. The question was: would I stop before it, or be dashed against it? I thought of Pelor, asking for strength. Miraculously, I came to a complete stop in front of the door.

I looked at the door, and it took me a moment to recognize it; not because I didn't know it, but that I couldn't believe that I would be here, many thousands of leagues from the Glitterhame and my companions. I stood before the door to one of the tombs in our family mausoleums, on our estate. The family crest was on the door. I had been here a couple of times as I grew up. The last time was when Roget's body was brought back from the mountains.

The door was...different though. It took me a moment to realize why. The door had been...slagged? shut, molten metal poured in the lock and left to cool, sealing it. I have been away from Greyhawk for 3 or 4 weeks now, and I haven't heard from my family in the week before we left for the Glitterhame, so I do not know if this was merely a vision, or if this is what the door looks like right now. I know from what my companions stated, that my body never left the room, I was with them the entire time, yet the sensation was so...real. I need to seek out guidance from Govannen when I get back to Greyhawk and find out. I believe that this was some sort of astral or ethereal journey. It may be pure speculation, but the alternative is that I am going mad.

I reached out to the door, touching it, to determine how real the vision was. It was cold, very cold. Too cold to be natural. At that point, I heard a voice, calling my name, faint, as on the wind.

"Dravot"

I looked around, all around, but I couldn't identify where the voice was coming from. It seemed more like it was in my head. This is not a comforting realization.

I touched the door again, this time feeling drawn in by something cold and evil. It was as if I had cast Detect Evil, although I did not pray to Pelor for that spell this day, yet the effect was the same. It was unmistakable. Alarmed, I attempted to channel positive energy into this...link that was developing, trying to break free. I was partially successful, managing to distance myself spiritually from it. Pelor's will is strong within me, but this entity was very close and very powerful.

It's grip didn't completely let go, and it went another route. It told me things. Odd things, which I do not understand, but I will someday.

"Your brothers wouldn't listen..." "Your father will pay..." "My time will come..."

I think about these things the rest of the day, but I do not know of anything in my family that would fit anything that was said. The words are engraved on my mind though. I doubt I could forget them without magical intervention, and even then I am skeptical.

I fear that at this point I was about to break down. I wasn't sure whether to drop to my knees and pray to Pelor for guidance, or to channel more energy. It seemed futile to do either, and I found that I was doubting myself.

At that moment, I felt a hand on my shoulder, warm and friendly and alive. I knew that I was alone in the tomb, yet this did not alarm me, and I knew that it's intent was good and had my welfare in mind. I began to fly backward through the halls, through the Glitterhame, as if the hand had grabbed me and yanked me back to my body and the mortal coil. I found myself back amongst my friends once more. Jozan later told me that he had sensed evil radiating from within me, holding me, and he protected me from it's influence. He might have saved my life, or at least my sanity.

The party was polite enough to let me pray to Pelor for a bit, and re-center myself. After that I was able to speak with them. I told them only a little of what happened, as I doubt that they'd believe the entire story anyway. If this *is* real at any level, it involves my family; of that I am certain to my bones. One thing that my father taught me long ago, is that family matters stay in family when possible. I trust my friends, but I am of House d'Chandagnac, and that trust is more sacred to me.

I told the party of being in front of the crypt, at my family estates, and of hearing my name, but that's all. They seem to believe me. I am conflicted, since I feel that lying by omission is almost the same as lying, but until I understand what it is, and *whether* family honor would allow me to talk about it, it is my burden alone.

Whatever happened, it was real enough to leave this bruise on my arm, which still throbs.

I want to go back to town as soon as possible and send a letter to my sister to find out if everything is alright.

And later

Last night, before the troglodyte attack, I was visited with horrible dreams.

I saw a mummified hand. Then I saw a prison cell, featuring prisoners, three dozen or so, in fine garb, of befitting nobility. Guards entered the cell and began slaughtering the prisoners.

One man attempted to protect himself by declaring his loyalty, only to be killed anyway. "That is why you must die." the guard said, plunging a sword into the man's stomach.

The guards looked familiar to me, or rather their uniforms did. They were dressed as the Emperor's Elite, yet the uniform was vaguely different, not as I know their uniform, but rather of an older style.

I awoke in a cold sweat. I am beginning to doubt my sanity.

 

[Zad]

The Forge of Fury - Chapter 5

The Forge of Fury - Chapter 5

OOC Notes:

Experience this week is a whopping 4,391. My head is still reeling from that fight. 250 point bonus for Valanthe for saving Dravot with the rope (shouldn’t that come out of Dravot’s exp?) and 100 point bonus for Scorch for sighting and killing the hawk.


Notes For Next Time:

We’ll need to eliminate the duergar quietly and quickly in small groups and we should be in good shape.


This Week’s Adventure:

We looked around quickly, unsure what the two escaped troglodytes might return with. Our dead attackers had very little on them, so we quickly went down the stairs. Upon reaching the stream we had the hunch they chose to swim away. None of us wanted to risk the water however, so we went around to the main cavern of the Glitterhame and up the large stairs we had seen.

At the top of the stairs was a long cavern, with another portion of the stream rushing through it. The water was quite active and the spray coated the rock with slick water. At one end the water ran into a large sinkhole and a narrow stairway wound its way downward near the hole. To the other side, the water seemed to be rushing over a small crude dam. Climbing the dam, I nearly fell on the slick rocks into the rushing water but was able to keep my feet. Unfortunately Dravot and Rackhir were not so quick, and went plunging into the water. Rackhir grabbed a large rock, but Dravot was propelled downstream quickly towards the sinkhole. While we all stood watching him helplessly borne away by the current, Valanthe fashioned a loop on a rope, and managed to catch Dravot’s flailing arm in it. The sudden pull nearly dislocated his arm, and Valanthe immediately fell on the wet rock but Jozan grabbed her belt and we slowly hauled Dravot out of the stream. Jozan threw Dravot bodily to the top of the dam to prevent any further mishaps. I tried to hide a smile but I fear I failed.

Some fifteen minutes had passed with all this and we began to worry about where our remaining attackers had gone. In this next smaller cavern, there was a cave off to one side. Inside was another large lizard like the one that had attacked us. It was chained to the wall and some ten feet from its reach were two treasure chests. It seemed odd that the beast would be set to guard chests that were out of its reach – then we remembered the huge, sticky tongue. Anyone approaching the chests would surely find himself the victim of that tongue and the lizard’s jaws straight afterward.

Jozan looked at the lizard closely and considered that the last one only attacked when driven by a whip. He decided to risk trying to calm the massive beast enough to let Valanthe free it from its shackles. He was convinced that given the chance, it would flee rather than attack us. Valanthe worked the lock quickly, and Jozan proved correct – the beast slinked quickly past us and into the water, disappearing into the sinkhole.

We took only a brief moment to examine the chests – our two troglodytes worrying us more. The next cavern up the river was another huge cave with the stream running more slowly through it. From the debris around, it seemed to be a large common area for the troglodytes. On one side was a bulwark and I could see in the darkness shapes behind it, watching us. After a time Jozan and I could make out more caves behind the defense and there were troglodytes manning the barrier, probably adolescents. They seemed to have no intention to attack but were clearly quite concerned by our presence.

We had a discussion about our next course of action. Valanthe favored opening a discussion but I was not sure what she wanted to accomplish. To my mind it broke down very simply – we could either leave and ignore them, or we could kill them all. I had misgivings about mass destruction of these beasts – I lack Jozan’s clear sense of good and evil, and even though he was sure they were evil, I had difficulty imagining putting man woman and child to the sword. On the other hand, I recalled the Hateful Wars, and were these orcs instead of troglodytes, my mind would have been much clearer on the issue.

Before we could come to a consensus, the troglodytes took action. After hearing a few noises, two troglodytes appeared carrying a small chest. They heaved it over the bulwark and shouted in crude common “This chief’s things. You take. You go.” They may have understood our discussion enough to know we were looking for something here, or perhaps it was a simple attempt to bribe us. In either case we felt they were no threat to us, and we retrieved the chest and withdrew. Unfortunately the chest held no more of Durgeddin’s works but between this one and the ones near the lizard, there was a substantial cache of silver pieces.

I’m also becoming increasingly mistrustful of Valanthe. I am quite sure I saw her attempting to filch a small gem from one of the chests before we all became aware of it. I realize that her talents come in very useful but to steal from your comrades is quite a betrayal, and I’m sure that Jozan or Dravot would look no more favorably on it than I do. If I become convinced she is stealing from the group, I’ll certainly have to talk to Lord Gelban and, regardless of his position, I could not trust her enough to go on another mission with her. I’d like to believe in the honesty of all my fellows and that we work for the same goal, but she is starting to test this view.

Given the number of silver pieces now in our possession, we withdrew to Blasingdel. Dravot was very agitated ever since his episode and wanted to return to town. Scorch also seemed anxious to return, having had some kind of brilliant idea he needed to develop. We had a quiet few days back to town and were once again welcomed. The Mayor was interested in the reports of the troglodytes but said that whatever the beasts had been up to, they had not attacked the townsfolk thus far. We again left our recovered gains in town and set of back to the mission we had come for. Our goal was to explore beyond the large iron door that we had seen earlier, and Valanthe took some time to research dwarven locks to be better prepared to open it. Of course, Scorch had a spell that would open any locked door, but Valanthe seemed to view it as a professional challenge.

On our way back to the Glitterhame, we came across a large area of forest that had been decimated. Trees and vegetation were uprooted and removed. There were faint traces of blood on the ground in some areas, immediately raising thoughts of Guthias-spawned nightmares. While we examined the area, the skies grew visibly darker, a storm brewing at unnatural speeds, and Jozan had the smell of evil in the air. We could not determine what had happened but it was clearly for no good purpose.

The purpose then became abundantly clear. The piles of branches and debris suddenly moved and struck, twisting our feet in their embrace. This was answered by the war cries of orcs to the east - a line of orcish archers appeared on a small rise some hundred feet away. And Jozan felt an evil presence to the west.

It was a carefully laid trap. And we were squarely inside it.

We did our best to recover our wits and gain control of the situation. We all tried desperately to free ourselves from the embrace of these plants – just stepping near one was a sure way to become entangled in its vines. I believe they were the twig horrors we heard tell of.

Scorch managed to avoid the grasping roots, and stepped clear of the twig horrors. He then looked at the orcs on the ridge and started shouting at them and laughing. He then threw a spell – surely what he had worked on in town.

I have seen a fireball before. But there is something more beautiful about it when you so desperately need it. The spell detonated in the midst of the orcs and they took the full force of it. Unfortunate that it did not kill them outright but it did injure them all severely, and surely demoralized them.

The battle was a tense one. Dravot made a prayer to Pelor and tried to keep himself free of the vines. Jozan seemed convinced that the orcs were there to drive us towards the waiting presence in the woods. The twig horrors showed their limitations when I had a stroke of luck – two of them tried to strike at me, and succeeded in twisting their vines within each other, allowing me to step free. They were clearly very clumsy and moved very slowly. I had little I could do against the horrors, but the orcs were another matter. Even at a hundred feet they were an easy shot, and I began to eliminate that threat. None too soon, since after the fireball, Scorch became the favored target of the orcs. Even though an orc cannot put a shaft into a stout oak at that range, some of them were bound to get lucky, and indeed he took two arrows before I could draw some of the fire away from him.

Jozan had cast Protection from Evil and limited the twig’s ability to engage him. He was now detecting the presence of something good, that was aiding us to the west. Breaking through the tree line came a large wolf – I’ve never seen one this big – it was the size of a pony. It had a crescent moon under one eye, and Jozan said he was an ally. I had no idea what was happening, but I had more than enough enemies to consider at that point and wasn’t stopping to think about allies.

And I had other worries. The storm that had been brewing attacked and a bolt of lightning struck me square in the chest. The pain was intense – my clothes burned and my chest ached and my muscles would barely move. It was all I could do to avoid collapsing. Scorch looked up and saw a hawk circling above – the Druid must have been using it to direct his lightning. Scorch seemed quite peeved at this, and fired a volley of magic missiles, and only parts of the bird made it back to the ground.

I hope that hurt the Druid as much as he had hurt me, but I doubt that was possible.

Dravot ran towards the orcs – once close enough used a sonic burst to stun them, and it was enough to kill a few of the already injured orcs. Meanwhile Jozan and Rackhir managed to kill one of the horrors. Scorch had conjured another flaming sphere and was rolling it into the twigs.

I was hurt, and angry. Lacking the target I truly wanted, I turned my wrath on the orcs, and with speed I’ve only seen in an Elven Champion, I put one arrow in each in the last three orcs, ending that threat.

Then a bolt of green lightning struck one of the twig horrors, and it began to grow. It wasn’t long before it was spreading out across the ground, twenty, thirty feet and growing each passing second.

The twig horrors move very slowly, but unfortunately Meepo had strayed into their reach. One shot a barbed vine towards him and left a gaping wound on his chest, and Meepo slowly dying on the ground.

Mindful that any further injury might well spell the end of my life, and with the orcs dead, I used one of the carefully guarded healing potions to remove some of my injuries. I felt somewhat better but far from good.

We were now free to turn our attention on to the blights. Jozan used his healing touch on Meepo and the spirited thing rejoined the fight. He had been preparing oil and rags to use on the horrors, and stood ready to provide me with flaming arrows, which I began dispensing on the horrors. Valanthe and Dravot teamed up to take one while Jozan, Rackhir and the wolf attacked others.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw a glowing light – when I turned I saw Scorch holding out his hand, and a glowing white symbol of an eye appeared in the air in front of his forehead (similar to the symbol of the White Brotherhood).
His words rang out again and he dispensed another fireball onto several of the twigs, including the growing mass of vegetation. The fire hurt them all badly and did significant damage to the growing horror.

The tide seemed to be turning in our favor as we were able to rid ourselves of more and more twig horrors. The large one took some kind of action and seemed to be exerting its will to reshape itself somehow, it’s vegetation spreading out into distinct tendrils on the ground.

A thought crossed my mind – with the hawk dead, how did the Druid cause the horror to grow? I looked carefully and saw two wolves that seemed to be swimming through the ground, on either side of the large twig horror. I debated shooting them but very little of their mass was above the ground.

It hit several of us at the same time – the twig horror was trying to reshape itself into a large unholy symbol of Therizdun. Stopping it became the main goal, and Rackhir and Jozan hacked madly at a forming tentacle. Scorch directed his flaming sphere and burned up the remaining central structure of the horror. Finally Jozan called upon the force of his god and severed a tentacle clean through. The horror shuddered – it was barely holding itself together and this was too much for it. It collapsed to the ground, now a harmless pile of plant matter.

The wolves in the ground disappeared, and the evil presence to the west withdrew. While we could not truly call this a victory, it was also far from a defeat. We had survived another ambush, although only barely. We did not linger on the field, fearful of what might come after us next, but returned instead to Blasingdel to recover.

Jozan explained that the large wolf, named Crescent, was his steed. He had, it seemed, been expecting such a thing. Apparently it’s not unusual for paladins of his Goddess but it amazes me just the same. Each day the world seems to become more wondrous, and more terrifying.

We spent several days resting – the twig horrors had some foul sap that weakened several of our members. Dravot was able to accelerate the recovery process with his healing fortunately. We repaired our armor and our bodies, but I know that my soul was not the only one suffering after this attack. We were clearly targeted – this was no unlucky encounter in the woods. Was the Druid seeking revenge after our last encounter with his forces? Did he know that it was we who had destroyed the Gulthias Prime? Or were we just in his way? And will he try again? The answer to that seems certain – we will have to take the fight to him as soon as we have the opportunity. We cannot allow such a careful ambush to be set for us again.

While we were away, Aran’gel had been in Blasingdel. We were told by the Mayor Aran’gel was taking a force of fifty men to the west to deal with some orcs nearing Highfolk. Given the skill of his men, it is likely he expects to face one hundred fifty orcs or more. Indeed fifty men leaves very few behind to guard the countryside, so it must be a severe threat for him to take this action. I debated methods of getting a message to him or his hawk, but the Mayor said that it was some five days march west, and I don’t think it would have reached him.

I also learned of Aran’gel’s visit from Vallon, the halfling bartender at the inn we were staying at. I was enjoying a quiet drink at the bar, trying to forget about the smell of burning flesh that was still nagging at me.

“Aran’gel was looking for you.” He said it as though his meaning was obvious, which it wasn’t.

I thanked him and told him the Mayor had already told us that Aran’gel was inquiring about us.

He corrected me, saying “No, las. I said he was looking for you,” pointing at me for unnecessary emphasis.

The Elven Champions had always seemed a little larger than life at home. Having met Aran’gel, I did have tremendous respect for him, but no sense of awe, nor did he act like it was his due. I was unsure what to make of this hafling, so I simply took another sip of my wine, feeling sure that he could not keep himself from going on. I was not disappointed.

He proceeded to tell me that it was in this very room that Aran’gel sat, and had discussions with the Mayor and others, and even this humble bartender. Asked if we’d arrived safely, if we’d found the Stone Tooth, what we’d found there. And asked a particular number of questions about me. If I seemed well, what I had said, my mood, and so on. He was sure that Aran’gel’s interest in me was “more than just professional.”

I was sure that Vallon was more gossip than bartender.

I simply smiled and continued to enjoy my wine. Vallon, apparently miffed that his juicy tidbits failed to stir more than passing curiosity in me, moved on to have a detailed discussion with another patron about a certain cow and which bull’s calf was being carried.

I considered his words. But elven subtlety is often lost on the non-elven. Even Vallon, living among elves, is likely making much out of little for the sake of having something to gossip over. If Aran’gel had some other interest, I doubt he’d be so obvious, and even if he did it is likely not what this silly hafling is implying.

After we had recovered, we once again set out for the Glitterhame. This time we took a slightly different route and manage to avoid any ambush. We gave the troglodytes a wide berth and made our way down to the iron door we had seen before.

Valanthe was eventually able to open the door, though it took her three tries to do so. She spent the next hour cursing dwarven locks. Once the door was open, we could hear the sound of hammer on anvil ringing in the distance. We exchanged surprised looks - someone was working in the forge below. Beyond it was a chamber with three massive bronze statues. Two of the dwarven statues faced doors and held axes and shields, while a third wielded two axes and faced into the room. It took little time for Valanthe to conclude the doors were false doors. While there was no way to know what would happen if one was to open one, the looming axe hanging above the door from the statue made some clear implications. We easily found a secret door leading out of the room and it led to a staircase. As we ascended the staircase, a magic mouth proclaimed “Alert! Intruders!” Once it was activated we could not reverse the alarm, so we continued on. At the top of the stairs was another door. Beyond this door was a large chamber containing many pillars, a throne on a small dais, and lurking in the shadows, three duergar.

Two males and a female began shooting at us with crossbows. We deployed into the room quickly. Dravot cast Bless, while Scorch cast Haste on Jozan. With this speed he quickly closed on and killed the female. One male fell to Valanthe. The last male attempted to escape only to be shot in the back before he could leave the room.

There were pallets and personal effects in the room. It was difficult to tell how long the duergar had been here but it did not seem to have been for very long. We could still hear the ringing of the hammer.

We moved quietly towards the door the last duergar ran to. Beyond was a small room with another dark dwarf. Valanthe sneaked up on the inattentive guard and killed him before he could make a sound.

 

[Zad]

The Forge of Fury - Chapter 6

The Forge of Fury - Chapter 6

OOC Notes:

Experience this session was 825

Wizardru indicated that we will not have a long stretch of downtime between the end of the forge and the next adventure. Plan accordingly.


Notes For Next Time:

Obviously the issue on everyone’s mind is the dragon. This is currently under discussion seperately.


This Week’s Adventure:

We braced ourselves for whatever lay beyond the door this duregar was guarding. Valanthe opened the door and slipped in to find a single female duregar, asleep on a simple bed. She slipped up to attack but the dwarf heard her coming. Valanthe made a hasty lunge for her but missed as she rolled away from Valanthe’s sword. I edged into the room and fired landing an arrow into her.

As we moved further in, she did something rather surprising. She tried to bargain. She became invisible and then offered to parley. She saw that she was outmatched and saw no sense in dying.

We struck a deal – she and her remaining people would withdraw to the foundry, and we would leave them alone. We were frank with her, and she was frank in return. She had every reason to lie to us and in fact may have been lying but we all seemed to believe her. We told her what we sought and she indicated that she and her kind had removed all Durgeddin’s works and writings that they could and the group that remained sought to learn from the very stones where he did his work. She also indicated that due to some undead, there were areas to the north that they had not examined, and she mentioned a black dragon that dwelled below.

The deal was struck, and she withdrew. We quickly found the secret door in the closet that she had mentioned. This room was Durgeddin’s chambers and apparently the secret door was his bolthole. The secret passage branched off and to the north led into a common area.

From one hall we could hear mad ramblings in dwarven with an echoing cry. The source was quick to find us – Dravot later called it an Alip. It was the tortured soul of one of the dwarven warriors, driven mad by some failure. The wailing cry droned in my ears and I felt my mind sinking away, unable to act. I was nearly lost in it, but rather than fight I let it wash over me and past me, and recovered my wits. Rackhir, Jozan, and Valanthe were all lost in the wailing. Fortunately Dravot was unaffected and did what he does with such fervor – drove the unholy beast back with the shining light of Pelor. He destroyed the poor twisted soul and in the last wailings we could hear “Arundel thanks you….”

The area beyond was a series of common rooms and small apartments. Most had little of any interest. We did find the armory tho, and inside one of the training dummies sprang up and attacked us. It was almost comic the way it pranced across the room but it dove at Valanthe and cracked two of her ribs and the humor ended there. Since I didn’t have a weapon I felt would be effective, I simply knocked one of its wooden legs out and tripped it, and we bashed it to splinters. The armory had nothing else of interest, no doubt looted by the orcs when they took the fortress.

Another apartment was fairly spacious and was undisturbed. No broken furniture, no corpses, no bones, just a bit of dust. In the room lie a large rug that went almost from wall to wall. We were all suspicious of this and I quickly verified that the carpet was indeed magical. We proceeded to have a lengthy discussion about how to best destroy the carpet. The nice thing about a carpet is that it doesn’t seem to care if you talk about hacking it to bits right in front of it. I was in favor of burning it while Valanthe felt this could start a large fire that would set the entire room ablaze. As we debated other methods, Valanthe did something I had yet to see her do – she ran out of patience. Usually careful and deliberate, she instead was impulsive. She thought that she would only be in danger if she stepped on the carpet and if she stayed to the edge of the room, she’d be fine.

Unfortunately she was wrong.

The moment she set foot in the room, the carpet reared up and attacked. [When Rugs Attack! Tonight on Fox!] It grabbed her and tossed around and constricted her, causing those cracked ribs to break. We all quickly moved in and started hacking at the rug. It made a push at one flank, but it was in the end only a rug, and we cut it apart without too much trouble. A search of the room revealed a few treasures but nothing helpful to our mission.

Another room held a half dozen skeletons, which promptly rose up from their splayed positions on the floor with a burning hate of life in their eyes. This was meet by a sense of vague ennui from Valanthe and myself, and we simply stepped back and let Jozan and Dravot smite the unholy menace. They were destroyed so quickly they nearly exploded.

At the end of the hall was a desecrated shrine. As we opened the door, an orcish wight rose from it’s slumped position in front of the altar, with two skeletons the size of ogres on either side. I moved in quickly and fired but soon regretted it. The wight charged me, moving across the room at blinding speed. I felt it’s chilling touch as it clawed at me. Perhaps it was Dravot’s nearby presence but the chill passed quickly and left me none the worse for wear. Dravot then put the fear of Pelor into the wight.

One of the skeletons charged Dravot but struck only shield. Rackhir shattered the other skeleton before it could close in. Jozan stepped behind the wight and with the help of his goddess took the creature’s head off. Dravot then destroyed the other skeleton easily. The room had little else of interest save evidence to indicate a pitched battle. Indeed this place may be the turning point of the battle to take the Glitterhame, with the orc making some kind of unholy sacrifice to win the battle.

Exploring in the other direction we found a library. In the library was a young human woman, fairly attractive. She saw us and stood from her chair and said “Oh hurry, before the wizard returns!”

One thing that our group shares in common – we’re all a suspicious lot. There was no way this woman was what she appeared. Jozan quickly had Shatterspike in front of him, the blade glowing, and said “Back, hell bitch.”

A succubus. Some days it’s as if someone was looking at a list of “Things I never want to see” and then arranging me to meet each one.

This demon scanned over the group and her eyes landed on Scorch. Scorch was very clearly charmed by her and wanted to help. We dragged him from the room and shut the door. She must be some how bound to that room since she did not follow us. Scorch was convinced that she meant us no harm, but even he had to grudgingly yield to the notion that he might have been charmed. We concluded that there was no way for us to slip past her, and turned another direction.

The secret passage also led to a ledge in an open cavern. A chain ladder descended over a hundred feet down. The cavern was huge and the pounding of the forge could be heard off to the west. We were on the far side of the foundry and well hidden from view. A river was rushing through this area, fed by the waterfall further off. A crumbling stone bridge arched over the river and to another ledge. Valanthe and I scouted carefully, wary that we were nearing the black dragon that the duregar had mentioned.

And that’s exactly what we found. He (he?) was easily larger than a horse, and lay apparently asleep on a small shelf of rock in the middle of the lake. The roar of the river may have concealed our approach, or perhaps the dragon was just watching us before acting. After looking around, Valanthe and I returned to the group and revealed our findings.

We are still discussing the choices. We clearly do not have much to show Lord Gelban for our efforts – we have only one weapon and no writings. Perhaps the duregar lied about removing Durgeddin’s works, but their action seems very logical and I think it true. There is more to explore beyond the succubus but no ready way past her. We are unsure if we could prevail against the dragon. We’ve discussed the strategy at length, but this is no Calcryx, barely out of his egg. This dragon is much older, and could well destroy us. While it surely has some attractive treasures, it may not even have the items we seek. Bargaining with it is out of the question to my mind.

Do we attack, or do we withdraw. Those seem to be our obvious choices, and I don’t much care for either one.

 

[Zad]

The Forge of Fury - Chapter 7

The Forge of Fury - Chapter 7

OOC Notes:

Experience was 900 each. 250 point bonus for Jozan for having Crescent waiting in ambush. (Note the exp figure change from the one we determined after the game.)

Accounting: we have a number on cash. We can liquidate the gems when we get to Dyvers or just keep them as gems for convenience.

I’m glad we stopped by the duregar on the way out and asked about Durgeddin’s writings

Dragon damage: According to my figures and guesses, we did 132 damage before she withdrew and healed. Then another 59 before she healed again. Then 154 to end it. Total output: 345. Resources expended – about half our spells, most of our non-healing potions, about half damage or more to most party members.


Notes for Next Time:

We will be heading over land down to Dyvers, crossing the Nyr Dyv on water, and then overland to Ahlissa. Travel time is probably going to be a couple weeks to Dyvers, a week or so across the water and then two or three more weeks to Ahlissa.


This Week’s Adventure:

After a long discussion we decided to kill the dragon. We spent many hours planning, and even more preparing. Dravot and I discussed spell selections for what seemed like an eternity.

We finally arrived at a plan. It would take two days to prepare properly but we all agreed there was no rush. We were concerned about engaging the dragon in an area favorable to us, and about preventing her escape once we were close to killing her. The water of course was also of concern. And the acid breath was something we took precautions against.

I’m not going to chronicle our full plan. Because it didn’t do us a bit of good.

What we didn’t know, but became abundantly clear, was that Valanthe and I were noticed on our scouting trip. She probably smelled us. So while we were preparing to assault an unaware foe, she was below, preparing more carefully than we were.

We cast several of our preparation spells and consumed potions. A vial with an elixir of cat’s grace had me feeling quite a bit more ready than usual. That feeling would soon vanish.

We descended the chain ladder and proceeded to prepare more spells – the ones with shorter durations. On our way down, we tripped an Alarm spell that she had placed and upon hearing of our arrival, she too began preparing. We were only partially ready to begin when Nightscale rose out of the lake and hissed “Impudent blood ticks! You seek to challenge me?” It was then we began to see the that the tables were turned.

She rose out of the water and landed in front of me. A wave of fear washed over us all, but we were able to focus despite it. She then chose me to bathe in her noxious acid. With the added speed from the potion I was able to avoid the blast but I was still covered as it splashed everywhere near me.

Jozan stepped into the fight and attacked her. A shimmer showed in the air as he swung and we realized that she was well prepared for us – he had a protection from good spell upon her. I pulled back and established my Shield to help prevent further acid baths. Valanthe seemed shaken by the dragon rising before her, but she tried to attack all the same. It was Rackhir who drew first blood, drawing that huge sword of his and managing to hit despite teeth and claw. Dravot invoked the blessings of Pelor and the beast then flew over Jozan and Rackhir to attack Dravot. As she took to the air, Jozan and Rackhir both pounced on her exposed belly.

I was ready to begin the business of killing this beast and let fly with two solid shots, heading right for her scaly neck. I remember feeling a wrenching in my stomach as the arrows bounced off an invisible barrier – she had the same shield that I had just cast a moment before, and it would make her nearly impossible for me to hit as long as it was facing me.

Jozan then did something and Shatterspike began to glow with an inner fire. (He later told me he felt a tugging as if the blade wanted something – he channeled his holy power into the blade and the glow began.) Shatterspike then bit into the dragon much more readily.

Valanthe attacked again but could not get past the thrashing tail. Scorch wisely concluded there was no point in holding back and threw a lightning bolt at the beast. She was not amused by this, and flew up and landed before him, but whipped her head around to blast Dravot with her acid. He also dodged the main stream but was covered by the splashing ichor. She then let loose her claws and teeth on Scorch and wounded him severely.

We pressed our attack. By “we” I mean Jozan, Rackhir, Valanthe and Scorch. Dravot was supporting as best he could, but I could do nothing but stand by and watch in horror. My bow was useless, my only offensive spell, magic missile, would be rendered ineffective by her shield, and with the other wards I had no chance of a sword strike against her. However despite the enormous disadvantage, we were wearing her down. She dove into the water and headed back towards the lake, and the water took on a foul stench behind her. She moved with amazing speed and we surmised later that she had used a minor spell to increase her movement speed dramatically.

We began to worry, and with good reason. While we did not feel we were winning the fight, we did not want her to escape. Dragons have a taste for revenge and she was not a creature we wanted on our heels for years to come. Fortunately one preparation, the water walking, proved invaluable here, and we were able to run after her.

She came out of the water on to her island treasure hoard and began biting at potions. The wounds we had worked so hard to inflict began to disappear, and another wave of horror crashed on us. I felt as though I’d be sick.

I again considered the idea of a retreat. Unfortunately it was no more viable than it was before – once engaged, we had few places to run, and we did not wish to leave this beast alive to haunt us. So we fought to the bitter end. I rushed the island with the others, and drew my blade, even though I believed it would be futile. I didn’t have the skill to land blade to flesh with this beast but Jozan and Rackhir pressed their attack and continued to wear the beast down.

One potion still lay on the piles of gold at her feet. Fearful she’d heal further, Valanthe rolled past her slashing claw and snatched the vial, and backed off, also grabbing a thin wand.

At this point we noticed that this dragon was not as powerful as she had seemed – for the spells of her preparation were beginning to fade away. Her protection from good collapsed, and soon after her shield. I suspect that she had several spells on scrolls and used those to prepare.

Nightscale tried to fortify her defenses and began casting a spell. We all wasted no time in taking advantage of her distraction but only Rackhir was able to land his heavy blade against her. Perhaps Durgeddin also had a dislike of dragons. In any case his blow was enough to break her concentration and stop her spell.

Valanthe ran back to Scorch with the wand. Nightscale let her acid loose on Jozan who simply bore the pain with fierce determination. Knowing that her shield was now down, I stepped back and began firing. I was finally able to put a few shots in to her but even those did not sink in as well as they might. Scorch activated the wand, which fired two magic missiles into the beast. He was apparently displeased its power did not match his own – such the mage that one.

Nightscale was clearly intent feeling harried and had underestimated these “blood ticks”. She took off into the air and high in the cavern beyond our light. Jozan took out one of the lighted coins we had prepared and threw it high into the air, and her dark shape was revealed against the ceiling. I shot two of the lighted arrows we’d prepared and while they did not hurt her as much as they might have, they did sink into her flesh and she was now no longer hidden in the blackness above.

Nightscale would almost certainly escape if she made it back down to the water. Dravot summoned a holy mace and it flew after the beast but with no effect. Rackhir shot but his arrows bounced off the scaly hide.

And then the beast dove into the water and was gone. The exit out of the mountain was completely underwater and we could see the light as she moved out of the cavern. A wide variety of curses and screams were loosed in that cavern, but then Jozan started laughing a laugh so hard I thought he was a halfling. Apparently he had dispatched Crescent to guard the lake exit some time ago, and he was waiting when Nightscale surfaced. She was badly injured and Crescent was able to lunge at her neck and finish her.

Though we had not struck the final blow, we had prevailed, and I suppose that’s the only important thing.

We quickly checked the rest of the cavern for surprises while the water walking spell held – it made working in the cavern much easier. We found nothing of special interest elsewhere, and we then settled in to take stock of what remained.

Scorch set to work on the dragon. Much as he did with Calcryx, he dismembered the body for special ingredients. We also kept the hide that someone might make armor out of it, and the head and horns and teeth. The entire process was disgusting and I was more than happy to aid Valanthe with the inventory of the dragon’s hoard rather than watch that gruesome process.

Nightscale had amassed a significant hoard of treasure. It took an hour just to count the silver, and another half hour to count the gold. She did have a battle axe with Durgeddin’s mark as well as a shield, so we could at least return to Greyhawk with more than a single sword to show for ourselves. The treasure was quite significant and it took us a while to get it all sorted out and moved out of the lair. Dragons are notorious for many things, but “neat” is not one of them it seems.

I took a moment to reflect on the idea of Durgeddin’s writings, still supposedly sent to the duregar home or perhaps were never here. The duregar had not explored the apartments due to the undead, nor the caverns due to the dragon. And we had already wiped out what may have been half their force. So as we withdrew from the Glitterhame for what we hoped would be the last time, I made a stop at the foundry to speak with the duregar. I informed them we were withdrawing from the Glitterhame and that we had little interest in what they did here from this point outward. I told them that the undead that had haunted the chapel and apartments had been vanquished, and that we had slain the black dragon below. This had the effect I had hoped it would, and left them speechless. Even the persistent ringing of hammer on anvil stopped when I said we had slain the black.

I asked them if they were sure they hadn’t come across any of Durgeddin’s writings since we hadn’t found any yet. Since they were “learning from the stone itself” they really wouldn’t need them and they were free to learn from the stone as long as they saw fit, as far as we were concerned.

The lead female appeared shaken but quickly went to a hidden compartment and withdrew a large tome. She handed it to me and hastily added that they had “only just found this” and were happy to let us have it. I thanked them for their cooperation and we left, feeling slightly smug that we’d now completed all the tasks Gelban set for us.

I was glad to leave the damp place – I’ve spent too much time in caverns of late and not enough time in the fresh air.

It took us over four days to get back to Blasingdel, due to the heavy load. And while playing puppet games with the dragon’s head is somewhat amusing, it looses its charm after a few days. We did however take steps to change our return path, in the event of another ambush. I was hoping to stroll into town with the book under my arm, take a leisurely week resting and arranging transport back to Greyhawk. But the gods seem to have taken offense to my use of the term “leisurely” and have vowed to let me never have cause to use it again it seems.

Blasingdel had been attacked. Fields were burned and a few outlying structures. Dead bodies were plentiful – all appeared to be barbarians from the north of the Wolf Clan. I can only assume that the townsfolk had already removed the bodies of their dead.

The townsfolk were still somewhat stunned from the barbarian attack but that did not prevent them from being overwhelmed by the hide of the dragon and the massive load of coin we carried. We consulted the mayor shortly after we arrived to get the formalities out of the way. We informed him of the current state of the Glitterhame. He confirmed that they knew nothing of the dragon. This raises the interesting question of where she was feeding, but it hardly seems important now.

The mayor then briefed us on the recent events in Blasingdel. Aran’gel and his men were in town two days ago, returning from the orc battle, when the barbarians attacked. It is fortunate that his troops were there or the town would surely have been overrun and destroyed. The attack was led by a group of southland mercenaries, led by a mad bowwoman. They were currently fleeing southward and Aran’gel was in pursuit.

The mayor also told us that Lord Gelban’s steward, Nasir, was waiting for us in the tavern with an entire caravan.

It also seems I’m destined to learn more about dragons than I ever cared to. Nasir, as a copper, is apparently somewhat more laid back than Gelban. He had drinks ready for us at the table, and while his physical appearance was very different from when we saw him in Greyhawk, there was no doubt it was him. He had us sit and rest a bit and then gave us the bad news.

There are clearly forces at work trying to destabilize the region. The Brotherhood, the cult of Therizdun, the barbarian attacks, all seem to be sowing chaos but for no clear purpose. The barbarian attack on Blasingdel was not done for gain, but simply to create death and destruction. Additionally, several of these group seem to be looking for something but exactly what is unknown. I flashed back to what Valanthe was told of the Tripartate by the old Sule god under Castle Greyhawk but perhaps that is just coincidence.

Other disruptions are occurring in Ahlissa. While the source of the unrest is unclear, Dravot’s family is squarely at the heart of it. There seemed to be some question regarding the line of succession, and both Dravot’s father and elder brother had recently taken quite ill from some lingering sickness. [OOC Thomas: DAMMIT I’m NOT going back for another damn fruit! Jay: Gee, maybe we shouldn’t have burned down that tree. ] Nasir had a letter from Dravot’s sister for him. Dravot was quite agitated by all this, and I can hardly blame him. He later told me the letter mentioned that Dravot’s mentor had visited with his father, and both his father and brothers had been agitated lately.

Nasir then told us we were to travel to Ahlissa and investigate the problem, and solve it if possible or if not, send word back to Lord Gelban as to the nature of the problem. They have agents in Ahlissa but so far they have been unable to learn anything useful. Nasir will arrange to have agents in place to return messages, and we will be met by another one of their ilk, a brass dragon. We will know him because, well… he’ll know us.

Dravot wanted to set out immediately but that was certainly not practical. We plan to leave in the morning, with an appropriately sized caravan. We’ll head south to Dyvers, and then by ship over the Nyr Dyv and then over land to Ahlissa. The journey is long but should not be overly hazardous. While in Dyvers we will have a chance to sell some of our recent acquisitions and perhaps purchase some new equipment.

Nasir also brought some items for some of us. He snidely stated that in response to my whining, he had packages for some of us. I was both shocked and hurt by this but I’ll go into that later. For Scorch there was a magical ring that added to his spell capacity. Rackhir and I had both been sent flaming longbows. (My mind immediately flashed to piles of burning twig horrors when I examined this in my room.) Valanthe was also brought some boots that allow her to climb up the walls, similar to Scorch’s Spider Climb spell.

So I sit in the tavern, drinking quietly while people scurry about preparing to leave. After a bath and fresh clothes, there was little else for me to do. I managed to repair some of the acid damage to my armor on the trip back from the fortress but I think once we reach Dyvers I’ll see about some new armor. Perhaps it’s the wine but I have a number of troubling thoughts that I can’t seem to shake.

On the larger scale, we now have at least two new elements in this puzzle. In addition to the cult of Therizdun and the Scarlet Brotherhood, we now have the Wolf Clan barbarians added into this, and whoever hired the mercenaries from the south, as well as this mad bowwoman. The number of players in this drama is growing every day, and most of them want to kill us. I do not wish to ignore that orcish Druid too long – his ambush nearly killed us last time and I do not wish to allow him to prepare again. We need to take steps to kill him before he can kill us, but it seems that must wait for another day. Mostly though we are working in the dark, devoid of any information that would let us grasp this situation more clearly. Perhaps we will find answers in Ahlissa, but so far each day only brings more questions.

On a more personal level I’m troubled by my role in all this. Nasir offended me with his degrading comments – I have never uttered a “whine” before him or Lord Gelban. Am I glad to have a flaming bow the next time the twig horrors strike? Most certainly. Have I complained to Gelban about it? No. Perhaps it’s the arrogance of the dragonkind, but if we’re so pathetic, then why doesn’t Nasir go to Ahlissa himself and sort things out? I’m tempted to tell him exactly that. Lord Gelban wanted a fruit and we got it. He wanted the fruit taken to the cambion, and we did it. He wanted the orcs out of the Glitterhame and Durgeddin’s works and lore, and we got that too. And now I’m accused of “whining”. If it weren’t for the wine helping me relax, I’d be on a horse riding toward Celene right now.

And there’s more that makes me want to go home. I am starting to wonder what I’m doing here. It was a simple matter with goblins and rats. I would shoot, and they would be hurt. But the horrors we face of late seem to all laugh at me. The monk knocked my arrows aside. The gricks were unaffected. The twig horrors were likely laughing at me until Meepo handed me the flaming arrows. And of course the skeletons may as well just ignore me as well. And even after Nightscale’s shield fell, she still barely felt my arrows. Rackhir has a strong arm and is just as effective with a blade in his hand and therefore has no hesitation to drop his bow. I have no such strength and little skill with such large weapons, and my spells are scarcely more than an apprentice’s. I’m starting to feel that I’m of no use in any fight of consequence, and that against anything larger than an orc, I’m less useful than Meepo. I was very disappointed that I had missed my chance to speak with Aran’gel – these things have been troubling me greatly lately and I had hoped to speak with him in confidence. Perhaps it’s time to take my bow and ride for the forests of home and patrol for orcs, where I can have some use. I had hoped Aran’gel could provide me some insight or perhaps just tell me it’s not as bad as it seems, but with him in pursuit of the mercenaries, I’ll likely not see him again. Perhaps the flaming bow will help, but with Nasir’s attitude, I’d just as soon he took it back with him. And even so, the arrow that flies from the bow is still a normal arrow, and I scarcely have the gold for numbers of magical arrows that shatter on the first strike.

One more glass of wine, then I’ll try to rest before the trip.


From Dravot’s Journal

Tomorrow we assault the foul worm, Nightscale. We are as prepared as we can be, but I fear that one or more of my companions will not live to see the glorious dawn again. I pray to Pelor for guidance and for strength for us all. I have protected us all against the effects of the dragon's noxious breath, and will use more effective spells tomorrow during the battle as needed. We will also be prepared to deal with the lake, walking on water, and breathing underneath if need be. This is a tremendous undertaking.

Jozan is centered in prayer to his deity, and is keeping Meepo busy in order to distract him. This is good, since I'm sure Kayleigh would throw him down the sink hole if he doesn't stop jabbering. I understand the sentiment, but think that a good silence spell would be more effective and less costly. Scorch and Rackhir both seem excited at the thought of causing mass destruction. I pray for them. Kayleigh seems upbeat, but I can tell that the weight of what comes ahead is pressing upon her. I cannot read Valanthe though. Who knows what goes through the mind of a rogue. I pray for her. I hope that I can show her the blessings of Pelor some day.

The next day

We slew a dragon today. The fight was long, involved, ferocious and deadly. Kayleigh and I planned out as much as we could, deciding upon appropriate spells, but it was not enough. My father, who has done some fighting for the Emperor is fond of the saying: "No plan survives contact with the enemy." I never understood the wisdom of this before today.

Our plan was to set up an ambush near the ladder. Kayleigh would move forward close enough to get the dragon's attention and bring it back to the group, which was in a readied position. We cast light on some coins and arrows in order to help with this. We would shoot the lit arrows into the dragon in order to more easily find her.

Our plans were for naught, as the dragon had detected their scent 2 days previously, and had preparations of her own. She set up an alarm spell, and knew we were coming, and cast several scrolls upon herself, including expeditious retreat to double movement, shield and protection from good, amongst others.

Nightscale surprised us, breathing acid upon Kayleigh, who was able to avoid most of the damage. I'm glad I cast that ward against acid. Next, dragon came on shore, attacking Rackhir, who was the only available target
as she was bearing down upon me (identified as a caster, and therefore a threat). Her attacks were vicious and raked through his armor, causing him some pain. At this point we came to understand the true nature of this beast, and had to fight to regain our composure and our resolve. Luckily, Valanthe was the only one unsuccessful. I'm sure that if she followed Pelor's will, she would have had the internal strength to fight back.

Kayleigh fired arrows into the foul beast, but was unsuccessful. The dragon's armor was magically enhanced, and she seemed to be unconcerned by non-magical weapons. I blessed the group, hoping that Pelor would grant
us an insight and help our attacks land true.

The beast then moved past Rackhir and Jozan, incurring their attacks as she brought her full ferocity upon myself. I dodged and blocked as best as I could, but was unable to avoid her savage blows. I was wounded fairly badly, but had enough strength to continue the battle. Jozan noticed that his sword was beckoning to him, asking something of him. Kayleigh, who is wiser than I first thought, told him to channel the power of his deity into it, which he did. The sword blazed to life, and for the next minute seemed to become a dealer of destruction, a powerful force of nature of it's own. He sliced into the dragon, deeper than before. Scorch then unleashed a mighty lightning bolt upon the creature. I attempted to assist Jozan's attacks, but the dragon moved before I was able to render any useful aid.

She flew over toward Scorch, and I feared for his life. He is not very strong and breaks quite easily. Luckily for him, but unlucky for me, she then turned and breathed her horrid acid upon myself. Pelor assisted me in avoiding most of the damage, and my spell helped some more, but I couldn't avoid the entire assault.

Jozan, Rackhir and Valanthe took advantage of my water walking spells, and moved across the river to continue the assault. Scorch hit her again with a bolt. She resisted my attempt to doom her efforts. Her will was quite strong. The fighters were largely successful, and for a moment I found myself optimistically thinking that the battle was ours. I now know better than to be optimistic in battle, as the dragon chose this moment to dive underwater and retreat back to the safety of her island and heal with the aid of some potions.

We followed her out to the island (again, I thank Pelor for the wisdom of the water walking spell), and continued the fight. Jozan charged her hard, doing more damage. Valanthe, Kayleigh and Rackhir followed suit. Valanthe must have a death wish, but she saw another potion within the dragon's range, and dived through her claws in order to prevent the dragon from getting it. I'm glad she did. She also found a wand, to be determined as a wand of magic missiles. This will be of use later, I'm sure. I followed out, casting protection from evil, in case she turned her attentions back to me.

The dragon breathed upon Jozan and raked Rackhir with her claws. Scorch unleashed his last bolt, and then moved on to magic missiles. This combat seemed to take forever. The dragon's scroll spells all started falling,
one after the other. It was now easier to attack her and do damage. An attack upon her also prevented her from casting mage armor. This must have helped a lot as well.

I cured some damage to Jozan so he could continue the fight. Earlier I had healed myself, and Scorch, and maybe Rackhir. At this stage my memory is hazy with images of battle. The dragon then took off, trying to escape. We hit her again as she launched. When she was in the air, Jozan threw his lit coin up, finding her in the upper reaches. This allowed Kayleigh to unleash her lit arrows into the foul beast, so we could find her no matter what. She was preparing to leave, and I called upon a spiritual weapon to slay the mighty beast, but my call was for naught. The weapon could not strike the true blow that was required.

We thought that she left, and I was filled with despair, worried about adding a dragon to the list of enemies that we seem to be incurring. At this point, Jozan informed us that his wolfmount had successfully slain the dragon on our behalf. I will pray to Pelor that I gain more insight into combat, so that I can be more effective in the future, but I fear
it is not my calling. I often wonder what that calling is. I believe that Pelor caused my spiritual weapon to miss, as I let my pride get ahead of the group's goals. I wanted to be the one to slay the dragon, and should have been more focused at the task of hand. I need to meditate upon this, and speak with my mentor Bellamy about it, or possibly Govannen back in Greyhawk.

We head to Blasingdel tomorrow. I look forward to 3 days of sleep, some decent port and a good cut of beef.

 

[Zad]

A Family Affair - Chapter 1

A Family Affair - Chapter 1: A brief Dyver-sion

Every noble family has skeletons in their closet. In this adventure we learn Dravot's is no exception.

Note that while many of the names come from Speaker in Dreams, this adventure bears only that similarity. Nothing in here will be much of a spoiler for that module.


OOC Notes:

Experience for this session was 1440. 250 point bonus to Valanthe for procurement services, and 250 point bonus to Kayleigh from last session for going back and strong-arming the duregar.

We have some interesting journal additions from Dravot, Valanthe and Jozan. Some is background material and some is involving the current going’s on. Normally I’d pull background material up to the front in an intro but since some of it involves what’s happened recently, I’ll just put it here.

Clarification on various symbols:

Symbol of Therizdun on the following:
i) On chest of assasains that attacked Gelban manse
ii) Shape Twig Horror was attempting to form
iii) On chest of assailants in Dyvers Inn
iv) On corrupted ground in Gulthias Grove in Sunless Citadel
v) On chest of monk attacker in Greyhawk b)
Great Kingdom Symbol on the following:
i) Dravot's Left Fore-arm
ii) 'Dravot Compass' magic item
iii) Branded on victims in one of Dravot's visions
Symbol of Vecna on the following:
i) Symbol worn by Druid in Sunless Citadel
ii) Symbol worn by Orc Druid south of Highfolk
iii) Symbol seen in Dravot's initial vision around neck of doomed Lt.


Notes for Next Time:
The plot thickens. We should probably analyze that locator device.


This Week’s Adventure:

Before we left, I had the chance to hear some more details about the situation. There are definite rumors (is there such a thing?) that the Overking of Ahlyssa is less than happy with things in the Hexpool area, which is where Dravot’s homeland is. Lord Gelban’s spies have not been able to determine the exact situation in the court or attend the Council, due to the nature of the king’s chambers. (Dravot later informed me that the Malachite Throne and the room in which it lies, is kept enchanted so that people inside only speak the truth. Somehow during the reign of Ivid, it was corrupted so that the king could compel anyone to say whatever the king pleased. Supposedly this has been corrected but there is still a shroud of suspicion that lingers.) Second and third hand information says that the region has been generally destabilized and there have been tales of violence and brigands, and that this is pressing enough that the Overking may be marshalling forces.

Dravot carefully read and re-read the letter from his sister. He believes that she was intentionally vague, expecting it to be intercepted. His father and brother are both very ill with some sort of “living death”. No mention was made of any attempts to heal or revive him. The letter was delivered to Lord Gelban’s estate by a courier.

Blasingdel was already well into it’s rebuilding efforts after the attack. Hopefully the money and supplies we left in the Glitterhame will help them. Looking around at the destruction, I felt somehow we should do more. We manage to arrange our equipment and supplies and head south back to Highfolk. It was a quiet ride, and we spent the night there before pressing on. The town has a wonderful charm to it and a welcoming feel and it would have been pleasant to spend a month or so there just to rest but circumstances forced us to move on in the morning. From his complaining, Scorch was again forced to do the dishes.

It was no trouble to find more recent news of Aran’gel – they turned west a half-days ride north of Highfolk. Aran’gel had sent some men into town to gather reinforcments and some special equipment. It sounded like he was planning some kind of ambush or pincer attack to get this bowwoman. The attackers are now moving as a fast and stealthy force, rather than as a rampaging band of marauders. The attack on Blasingdel may have been a diversion of some kind. The forces are probably evenly matched now. There is some fear they may have some special form of protection with them, which is likely why Aran’gel requested some special equipment from his supplies.

We set southward the next day on the main trade route that leads through Furyondy. It’s a relatively safe road, staying well south of the border and farther from the reach of Iuz. We were just cresting a hill in the low lands and we saw a man seated on a tree stump ahead. He was probably Flan, being bald, tattooed, and sporting a bright red beard and mustache. He wore a simple brown robe and sat calmly with a staff nearby. At the time we were the only travelers in sight, and we all braced ourselves for some new assault. As we neared, we eased slightly when Jozan caught no scent of evil on him. When we were close, he stood and picked up his staff and said simply “Very well, you are here. We may go.”

I sighed a deep sigh. I was in no mood to deal with this man – yet another who knew things he was not sharing and had some purpose which he was not revealing. After several questions, things became clear. I must admit that at least he was willing to answer when directly questioned.

His name was Marcus. He had been dispatched to aid us, understanding we had some kind of trouble with one of “his kind”. It seemed clear that he meant Druids, in particular the evil Druid who set the ambush for us. He had been sent by some type of Druidic council who, it seems, are aware that some of their rank have broken some of their laws and been corrupted.

He was either friend or foe. If he was friend, then his company would be valuable. If a foe, then he would be a menace to us whether he was with us or not, and it was just as well to have him where we could watch him. As we rode on, he walked next to Jozan, having no trouble matching our pace.

We did not reach the next town before nightfall, and camped by the road. Marcus simply slept against a tree. The evening was uneventful and we continued in the morning. Just before reaching the town, Marcus informed us he would meet us on the far side. Apparently he has a distaste for towns. Sure enough, he was waiting on the far side and we continued.

Marcus stayed with us for two days. On the evening of the second day, he informed us that he would take his leave some time the next day and that we should be safe enough now. He then told us something new – there was more than one Druid involved. The orcish Druid we saw was not the same Druid that set the ambush for us. Since we never saw him, we assumed them to be the same, but this was not the case. Apparently this second Druid was the much more dangerous foe, and he was a former member of Marcus’ order. This made him easier to track (in what way I did not understand.) We showed him the sapling we had recovered and he said it was a bark blight. The produce an overlarge amount of sap, and would be the size of a lion. The sap is also stronger than what we have previously encountered. He indicated that since they are basically large logs, bludgeoning weapons were of little use but that other attacks should be effective.

He also casually mentioned “implants”. Apparently those who have turned against his order and have turned to Vecna have been removing a part of their body and replacing it with something. Our Druid nemesis has cut off his arm and replaced it with some kind of tree limb. The mention of it seemed to disturb the normally impassive Marcus.

He also mentioned a destroyed temple of Therizdun in the Yatl mountains. We were apparently quite close to it as we traveled to and from the Glitterhame. Marcus was also confused by the Therizdun-Vecna connection and had no insights into this paradox. (I did take some private satisfaction at confounding him – the number of smug people I encounter these days has been alarmingly high.)

Before Marcus left, he gave us a small woven twig object. It can be used to summon assistance from his kind if we are close enough to the forest.

Almost as soon as Marcus took his leave, the immense town of Dyvers loomed into view. It was a wide sprawling town and was quite different from Greyhawk in how spread out it was. The Nyr Dyv spread out behind it, and it seemed quite tranquil from a distance. Valanthe was raised in Dyvers and commented that the defense system is not based on large defenses and walls in the way Greyhawk’s is. Rather the city is sectional and defenders can fall back to various sections as needed.

At the city gates were the usual collection of come-ers and go-ers and the city watch, attempting to remain awake while watching it. The watch was a bit boggled by us, not seeing an armed party with a wolf rider very frequently. However Valanthe quickly eased their minds and we entered. The watch was rather specific on several points involving Crescent however. I don’t think they quite realized the nature of the bond between Jozan and his steed.

We arrive at an inn that Valanthe knew of, tended by an elven innkeeper. Shortly after we arrive, Valanthe leaves on business of her own, while Dravot heads off in search of the local temple. Scorch too left on some unknown business and returned 20 minutes later, looking displeased. Given the late hour, I was content to simply have a meal and a bath.

The next day we all set to separate tasks. My first one was to arrange passage to Ahlyssa. I locate the docks easily enough and some polite inquiries and a smile direct me to a suitable ship. To my relief, it’s an elven ship - Yu'salla Lendan Shai, which is a sea-elf name. Roughly translated into Common, it means 'Thorn of the Lendores'. Her home port is, of course, a town in the Lendore Isles, Tidemeet. They sail in four days on the morning tide, and they can accommodate Crescent. As we are about to discuss his price, an old elven man behind me tells the captain that there is no need for a fee. The captain sees him, bows slightly in understanding and returns to his ship.

The elder is the same one I saw with Lord Gelban some months ago. Like then, he oddly bears no outward sign of rank or station. He says some obscure things that even now slip from my memory. I am curious about this elder, and we take lunch together. He tells me he is here to meet with other members of the testing. We spent a pleasant enough lunch, and I simply let his more obscure comments slide by without reply. I suspect this is another of the Council of Scale, a silver dragon most likely. I didn’t bother mentioning this to anyone – perhaps such things are simply becoming routine.

Jozan refreshed my memory about the testing. There are elves who have been “tested” – they have passed through Sehanine’s moon arc, and when they came out, they had been changed. Some became great scholars, others great poets, and some went to the Lenore Isles and never returned. Some have given up their worldly possessions to go embark upon a great purpose, but what that purpose is, even they cannot fully explain. At home, these elves are something of black sheep, but if it is their calling then it is.

After lunch, I spent a pleasant afternoon in the market district shopping. I purchased the pieces I need to create holy water arrows as Dravot and I discussed, as well as several sets of clothes. Given that we will be moving in high circles in Ahlyssa, it will be important to be dressed appropriately. While it is by no means certain what awaits us, we were told to expect to be involved in some situations where a finer cut of clothing would be called for. It has been some time since I wore a proper dress and I enjoyed my time at the dressmaker trying things on. Dravot was uncertain if we would be required to attend a high state affair calling for very formal dress, but if we were, his family would supply appropriate finery. I see Dravot as a fine man and devoted to his family, but I know that elves are scarcely common in Ahlyssa and the notion of being dressed for a ball by humans was enough that I chose to deal with that possibility myself.

We did well in the forge and had a ready supply of gold after Valanthe disposed of the various findings. Perhaps I should have spent the gold on inks to pen more spells into my book but I instead chose to spoil myself on two items. The first was a starlight gown – it was custom made for me and looks wonderful. Even at home I would draw no small amount of attention in it. In Ahlyssa, it would be no less than stunning. The tailor even seemed pleased with himself as he saw me wearing it.

The second item was a harp. A fine elven harp, small enough to travel with, it was equal to any in Celene and may have even come from there. It had been so long since I played music that I thought I owed myself something after the recent troubles. The sea voyage will give me a chance to practice again.

On a more practical side, my leathers had seen better days. I had resolved to replace them in Dyvers. I was a bit surprised to see leaf armor in one shop, but given recent troubles, I had something more protective in mind. A mithril chain shirt would suit me well being light enough to shoot and cast in while still guarding me better than my leathers when they were new. Now, after fire, acid, claw, and blade, the armor looked more like a patchwork quilt than anything. Unfortunately my inquiries met with no luck – I could find no mithril for sale. Perhaps it was too much to ask, or perhaps I wasn’t asking the right people. I decided that perhaps the native daughter could provide some help and found Valanthe later. She said she knew someone who might have that type of thing and returned two hours later, shirt in hand. The price was high, but as soon as I put it on, I was sure it was gold well spent. It weighs nearly nothing and under a shirt can hardly be seen.

As the days passed before our departure, we each enjoyed what Dyvers had to offer and saw each infrequently. In some ways it was good to have a bit of time in private, if you can call it that in such a large city. It wasn’t unusual in the late afternoon to find some of my companions in the inn, and I was just returning when all hell broke loose.

Later I learned the prelude - Valanthe had come into the inn and found Dravot and Scorch there. As they sat, she noticed four men watching Dravot. They were rough looking, laboring types. Valanthe pointed this out to Dravot (who, I’m told, looked over immediately) and suggested that the boys take a walk so that Valanthe could follow these goons. As they got up, Valanthe saw them put a small object wrapped in cloth on the table. It continued to point at Dravot as he moved towards the door.

Upon seeing this, the goons moved to intercept Dravot. One of them, lumbering in a clumsy manner, places himself between Dravot and the door while others move behind. The one in the door then took a swing at Dravot and everything erupted.

It seems that the lumbering thug was in fact an ogre, under a crude illusion. This was true for one of the other attackers as well. The remaining two seemed to be human however.

One of the orcs hit Dravot with the back of his hand – it seems they were trying to take him alive. The next distinct thing anyone remembers clearly is Scorch stepping back and sending a lightning bolt shooting across the in, blasting the attackers and the wall. I heard the crack of thunder down the street and got to the inn a moment later, blade in hand.

When I got to the doorway the fracas was in full swing. Dravot had summoned a spiritual weapon and the attackers were engaged with Dravot, Valanthe and Scorch. Scorch had apparently thrown a hold person, and while ineffective on the ogres, one of the human attackers was frozen in place, evening the odds nicely.

I stepped in behind the ogre in the doorway and attacked. The clumsy brute could barely dodge in the narrow confines of the inn. He was frothing at the mouth in some kind of berserk rage. One of the human thugs grabbed at Dravot and held him but Dravot quickly wriggled free. Meanwhile Valanthe was attacking the other ogre inside.

At one point, the remaining human tried to grab Dravot, but Valanthe was right near, and promptly introduced him to her blade. He fell with a gurgle. This only left the ogres to deal with. Jozan arrived just after I did and we pressed in on the ogres. Valanthe landed a blow on one ogre that would have felled any mortal man I have met, and the ogre remained fighting, only further enraged. The second ogre was chasing Scorch and had hurt him badly. Dravot leapt over the bar and healed Scorch, who was retreating up the stairs. Jozan sliced deep into the leg of one ogre, and it knelt and howled and its blood gushed everywhere, and it was overcome and fell. The other ogre was across the room from me, clawing at Scorch up the stairs. I had the quiver produce the flaming bow, and let a flaming arrow loose into its back, and it crashed down on the wrecked stairs.

I’ve been in bar fights before, but this one had a good bit more lethality. Lightning bolts, magic missiles, ogres, and poisoned blades in the hands of our human attackers all ranged across the bar. Valanthe was fighting smart and was able to flank our assailants for several attacks. The ogres may have been easy to hit, but their huge arms were nearly impossible to avoid, and by the end we were all seriously injured. Smart fighting and quick thinking was what made us the ones standing at the end.

The hold person was just about to wear off of our one living attacker. I gave a small giggle and realized I had the perfect thing to find out more about this attack – Charm Person. I cast it on our soon-to-be friend, but the spell was thrown back in a most unpleasant way. I had never seen anything like that before. I looked at the man carefully to determine if it was perhaps some item that was protecting him. At the neck of his shirt I saw something drawn on his chest, starting to glow. As I looked I could see that it was not drawn, but carved or burnt into his flesh, and as I looked, they began to glow more intensely. Scorch yelled with a start “Explosive runes!” Since he was unable to get down the broken staircase, he withdrew to the upstairs and shielded himself behind a door. The rest of us wasted no time leaving the inn.

Sure enough within a few seconds of getting clear, the interior of the inn was consumed in the explosion.

After the fire was doused, there was little left. The human bodies were completely destroyed. The ogre bodies were charred and maimed but were still identifiable as ogres. I was relieved to have some proof the attack. Several witnesses were in the bar when it all started and we able to confirm our tale to the city watch. They did not know what to make of the events but could place no blame with us, and made no charges.

Valanthe managed to grab the locator device before the room exploded. It was a small gold arrow about a foot long and at the center was a small disk with a blood red symbol painted on it – the Great Kingdom seal. It matched the bruise that had appeared on Dravot’s arm after his dream. Scorch and I are planning to analyze this device on our journey.

Just once it would be nice to go through a town without being attacked. Fortunately we sail tomorrow, so I doubt there will be a chance for a second attack.


From Dravot’s Journal

Upon reaching Dyvers

We have reached Dyvers and have checked into an inn while we arrange passage to Prymp and my homeland. I have taken one of the nicer rooms in the inn, it is a pleasure to treat myself to the finer things after being on the road for so long.

I have just come back from the local Temple. It's beauty and grace is amazing, and befitting of Pelor. I had heard of it's wonders, but after being in the Temple at Greyhawk, I couldn't imagine that it would surpass Greyhawk's.

At the Temple, I told the prelate about our adventures, and my concerns that my armor was slowing me down in crucial situations, and I asked him if he could assist me in the purchase of some mithril to replace my current armor.My armor was looking rather sad anyway, and I think he took pity upon my appearance. I will have to locate a buckler on my own, but it looks like I will be able to get a chain shirt. Most excellent.

I still have no information on what is going on at home, and I am gravely worried. I have not had any more dreams or visions since the Glitterhame. I do not know if I should count myself as lucky or unlucky in this. Perhaps I could glean more information if I were to have another? Is this what I want?

I grow more concerned daily over the mark on my arm. At first it was just a bruise, having appeared after my first vision in the dwarven sepulcher. Since then, the skin around it has become discolored and pale, and dry and itchy, like a burn wound that is healing. I have tried to cure myself, I have tried to remove disease and remove curse, all with no luck. I purchased some soothing lotion in one town on the way, but that has had no effect as well. I have not let anyone see it since the Glitterhame. If I cannot cure it, I do not want to alarm the others about it.

Kayleigh thought that the shape of the bruise was odd, but she doesn't know the half of it. The bruise is in the shape of ... something to do with the Great Kingdom, or the royal family, or both. I wish I had paid more attention to the heraldry sessions as a boy, but it's enough to drive one to drink.

I hope that I can get some answers from Bellamy or my father about all of this. I pray to Pelor that my father and brother are ok.

2nd night in Dyvers

It happened again. Another vision. I still fear for my sanity, for it was so real, yet it could not be true. There was a huge difference this time...Valanthe was there as well. This disturbs me to no end...if it had been Jozan, I would have taken comfort, but what was she doing there? Is there a connection between us, as yet unknown? Maybe it's an opportunity for me to bring her into the glory of Pelor.

Starting at the beginning; my recollections are as good as they can be under these harrowing circumstances...

Last night, I came back to the Inn after a long day exploring the town. I purchased a new outfit befitting my station, and appropriate for going home. My arm was throbbing pretty badly today, so I hate a light supper, had a glass of port and retired to bed.

Again, I had that same feeling of flying as before, and again I found myself at the family crypt. After a moment, I realized that Valanthe was there too. Right now I do not know if she was there in the same capacity as I was, or if she was part of my dream. I regret that I shall have to find out, even if it means betraying family confidences.

I was again at the crypt, but the scene was different. My father and Bellamy were there, as were several of the household guards. The guards were struggling to shut the door of the crypt, and seemed to be faltering at the task. An inky blackness seemed to ... ooze out of the crypt. Bellamy was casting some spell, though I know not what it was. My father was commanding the others to close the door, heaving at it himself when it was clear that more effort was needed.

At that moment, I noted that there was something odd about both Bellamy and my father, but I couldn't figure out what it was until later on. They both seemed younger than I remember. Father's hair was still black, not the all white hair that he had after my brother Roget died. Bellamy seemed younger and slimmer than I remember, about what he was like when I met him as a child. It's almost as if I was seeing things as they were in the past, although I doubt it, as I would have known something of such events in the crypts.

Anyway, a hammer came flying out of the crypt, obviously a spiritual weapon, and it hit a guard, killing him instantly. I tried to move forward and go into the room, since it wasn't real, I could go anywhere, or so I thought. As I tried to move through the door, I felt a strong force keeping me out, resisting me more and more as I tried to move forward. I gave up after a moment, and settled for a look.

What I saw chilled me then, and it runs shivers down my back now that I'm awake. I saw a silhouette of a man, maybe my height. He was standing in front of a huge column of purple light that outlined him. I also caught a glimpse of a 2nd creature...I think it was human, but it was hobbled and couldn't move well.

I tried to channel positive energy at the doors, but it had no effect. I stood about, helpless, watching this play out.

At this point, Bellamy said in a deep deep voice, "STOP", and threw a hammer into the room...I think it was a sun hammer. I've heard of them, but have never seen one before. There was a sound of glass breaking inside the crypt and the doors were sucked in, slamming closed.

The doors then re-opened, and all was calm. There were several dead men inside the crypt, more of my father's soldiers. Debris that I thought was the result of years of decay was actually the leftover mess from battle.

I then attempted to channel positive energy at my father, and he seemed to twitch, as if I got through to him in the slightest way. He then said, "The children must not know of any of this". Of what? I still don't understand.

It was at this point that I heard the voice again...

"He didn't listen then... He didn't listen now Your brothers didn't listen Roget listened You will listen"

I couldn't get to sleep the rest of the night. That voice rattles about in my head.

The next day

My fears have been realized. Valanthe did participate in last night's vision. She wasn't just part of my madness. I do not know whether to be relieved that someone has witnessed this too, or concerned that someone like her has seen this. If I knew what was going on, I'd be in a better position to tell.

I needed time to reflect upon what happened, so when Valanthe approached me, I made a deal with her. If she could locate a mithril buckler before I could, I would tell her some of what I knew. I figured that this was a win/win situation. I had no luck in locating the buckler, so odds were that she wouldn't either, and I wouldn't have to talk. If she did find it, well...then I'd have the buckler, and I'd share what I thought was appropriate, but I'd keep my deductions and speculations to myself.

Imagine my distress when I came back to the Inn, and found her with my buckler, the same buckler that the merchant earlier today had claimed he didn't have. At this moment, she realized that we were being watched...or more specifically, I was being watched. Scorch and I left together, allowing Valanthe to watch the goons (and they were goons), and follow them.

At that moment, the first goon blocked the door and attempted to grab me. I punched him with my buckler, and avoided this. My buckler smash revealed the goon to be an ogre! After facing Ulf, I wasn't quite as afraid, but I was less than thrilled, let me tell you. Valanthe tumbled through and attemped to help me out, but couldn't make a hit. Scorch saw an opportunity and took it, unleashing a lightning bolt in the room, striking 3 of the goons at the same time.

I tried to move behind the bar, figuring that the bar would give me some protection. The ogre struck at me as I did, but obviously wasn't trying to kill me...maybe they wanted me alive? One of the goons went after Scorch and said something to that effect, attacking him with a poisoned dagger. He wound up regretting it when Scorch held him in place, taking him out of the fracas.

I called upon Pelor to grant me a spiritual weapon, and set it upon the ogre, it helped to do some damage, but didn't do much to affect the course of the battle. The second human (the third was an ogre hidden by illusion as well) came around the bar and grabbed me. I was able to break free though.

By this point, Kayleigh and Jozan had shown, no doubt alarmed by Scorch's lightning bolt. They both laid into the ogre at the door, doing some serious damage. Valanthe got in a sneak attack upon the 2nd ogre and then tumbled through to my aid. The goon again tried to grab me, but didn't realize that Valanthe was behind him and he died because of his mistake.

At this point I was able to cast prayer, aiding my companions, and cursing the ogres. Scorch had unleashed several magic missiles at the 2nd ogre by this point, and had valiantly distracted him for us, drawing him up the stairs. Unfortunately, in all of the fighting, Scorch had been wounded several times. Hearing his cry for aid, I jumped up onto the bar and ran down it, finding him on the stairs. The ogre hit me, but I was able to save Scorch.

Finall the first ogre went down, and the second one went down fairly quickly thereafter. We were going to charm the last living goon, but he was protected by some magical means, and the spell almost turned itself upon Kayleigh. At this point, strange markings on the chest of the two humans began to glow. Scorch identified them as explosive runes, and we all vacated the premises just before they blew up. Luckily, no one was hurt.

Valanthe turned up some magical device that the men were using to track me. I will play around with it on the ship and try to understand it better. I am deeply disturbed that the symbol on it matches the bruise on my arm. I am starting to believe that this is real.

I will speak with Valanthe about this on the boat.


From Valanthe's Journal

Let's get one thing straight: I don't HAVE to do this. I was making a perfectly good living before Gelban came along. Well, OK, maybe not perfectly good . . . I mean, I'm not a paladin or anything. But that's not important right now.
See, I do what I need to do. I've never had much use for 'the law'. Trithereon knows it's never had much use for me. From the very beginning, I did what I needed to survive. If that meant going outside the law, then so be it. Before Ardestor found me on the streets of Dyvers, I did anything I needed to, just to survive.

What's that? Oh, Ardestor. I suppose I should say something about him. He's a cleric of Trithereon. Maybe you've met him or one of his kind – you know the type, all about power and individuality. I've never seen the inside of a church, and from what Ardestor says, most don't. It's the practice that's important, he said. He goes on a bit much, I suppose, but his heart's in the right place. He got me into the orphanage – you know, the one run by Mother Gota? More on her in a minute.

Anyhow, out of respect for Ardestor (and I'd never tell him this . . . I mean, he preaches enough as it is), I've given up most of my bad habits. That's no mean feat, understand. Most of them. When I was old enough, I left the orphanage, but I still felt the need to do something to pay Ardestor and Mother Gota back.

You see, Mother Gota, she really is kind of like a mother to me. The closest to one I've ever had or can remember, anyways. She looked after us, fed us, and tried to teach us the value of helping others. I suppose that sort of thing sinks in after a while. Her charges have always figured that she's part elf, because I've met people who swear she was old when they were kids, and they weren't exactly newborns themselves, if you take my meaning. She doesn't look the part, but I've always wondered, myself.

Anyways, I tried honest work for a while. I didn't like it. Either I apprentice for years to earn a lousy trade, or I end up working at manual labor for some ogre-brain. Fat chance. I'm sneaky, I'm quick, and I know how to get at other people's things . . . whether they want me to see them or not. Now, I don't just take things willy-nilly. I'm not a thief . . . I'm a social equalizer. I only steal from the rich, and I'm not greedy. And I give a lot of the money away. Most of it goes to Mother Gota's orphanage. Sometimes I send it to other charities. Whatever it takes. Lords and ladies and royal courts . . . bah! They don't help the people. If I've learned one thing from Trithereon it's self-reliance, and that power comes from the individual.

So, let's talk about Gelban, and the mess he's gotten me into. See, it all started when I stole something from a goods shipment down at the merchant's quarter. It wasn't anything too fancy, I thought, just some goblets, engraved with gold dragons. I didn't know they were from the Duke of Ernst himself, sent as a present to Lord Devram Gelban of Greyhawk. I certainly didn't think they'd trace the sale of it back to me. But somehow, he did. But he didn't send a goon squad, or some assassin, he sent an offer. I was pretty skeptical, you can bet. But the money's good. I checked around – Gelban's word is his bond, and he's never been known to lie. So I took him up on his offer. He wanted me to join with some other adventurers he'd hired, to work on retainer. If I'd only known where this would all lead . . . well, I probably still would have taken the job.

See, first he sends us off to get this fruit (yeah, yeah I know, I thought it was crazy, too) to heal his daughter. Well, we find ourselves in a Keoland backwater town, looking for some goblins, a Druid, and these weird plant creatures in some dragon-worshipper's temple that fell in a crack in the ground. You can imagine how that went. Still, we succeeded in finding the fruit, killing a lot of goblins, and netting some loot. Naturally, almost all of it went to the orphanage.

And then, of course, there's the folks I work with. They're an agreeable lot, I suppose, even if most of them are kind of stuck-up. Let's see now:

Kayleigh: well, she's an elf, for starters. Great with a bow, and a good planner. Something of a leader, I guess, if you're inclined to follow others. I do when it makes sense. Still, she's a little leery of me lately . . . old habits being what they are (hey, I said I MOSTLY kicked them), she almost caught me nabbing a potion. I mean, you never know. Seems to get ruffled a little easy, though. It's hard to tell with elves, sometimes . . . I mean, she's probably four times my age, and yet sometimes it seems like she's an insecure kid, not a survivor of those . . . what did they call them? Oh yeah, 'Hateful Wars'. As if war was every anything but.

Jozan: A Paladin. He has a big heart, and carries a big sword. Physically, he doesn't seem that imposing . . . least not till he charges you, screaming some weird holy battle cry. He's a bit of a stickler for the rules, though. Not as rigid as some paladins I've robb . . . err, met. Still, doesn't hurt not to discuss my past with the likes of him . . . the last thing I need is a lecture.

Dravot: Speaking of lectures, Pelor's errand boy is handy with the healing, but something of a stick in the mud. Comes from noble blood, whether or not he admits it. You can't shake the smell of money, and he fairly reeks of it. Still, try as I might, I can't really bring myself to dislike him. He reminds me of Ardestor, 'cuz he really cares about people. Maybe that's why he's not lounging about some estate somewhere, but actually out among us common folk. I think he trusts in his god a little too much, mind you. I mean, I think Trithereon's swell, but you don't see putting my life in his hands. That's just crazy.

Scorch: A smelly, smelly man. Dravot won't talk about his family, but Scorch is proud to badmouth his. He says he's the fourth son of some hedge knight, but I don't buy it. He scares me a little, but I guess he's safe enough. He can be secretive, though, and that usually means trouble in my book. You never know what a wizard is up to . . . but they all have to sleep, sometimes. His spells come in real handy, when he can be convinced to use them.

Rackhir: What can i say about Rackhir? He's the one member of the group I just don't trust. He doesn't talk about his past, and I get the impression there's bad blood there. He's from the north, I'm sure of it. He's got a lot of scars, and his eyes have that 'dead' look to them. He could care less about killing – it's just a job to him. Gelban seems to think he's safe to trust, but he worries me.

Things have gotten a little strange lately. I've been doing . . . things . . . that I don't know how I've been able to do. Sometimes I hear voices, but I don't think I'm going crazy . . . am I? I can see better than an elf . . . I never could before. I'd think it was all just in my head . . . but then at the Forge, I . . . jumped, let's say. From falling down off a cliff to a safe spot above. I took Jozan with me, but I don't know if he knows what happened. And now, I had a dream, and Dravot was in it . . . I'm afraid to ask him about it, but I'm not sure if it's because he'll tell me it really happened, or if I'm just losing my mind

I've had dreams before. You know, the usual things. You're rich, happy, falling through the clouds, that type of stuff. But since when do you dream that you are in someone else's dream?

I somehow managed to end up in Dravot's, like some kind of witness, or guest. It was at a vault, like in the family dead kind of vault (though i wish it were the money type). There was a big commotion, something was trying to break out, and it didn't seem pleasant. There were soldiers, and what I assume to be the head of the family plus a powerful cleric and they were all trying to shut the door. Whatever was in there, it didn't seem pleasant. I think I might have even gotten shivers down my spine.

And then I noticed "them". While in Dravot's dream (?) vision, I noticed some shadow figures off to the side. They are becoming more of a familiar occurrence to me, but more of that later. They seemed to be paired off and discussing the situation that was occurring with the head of the group and the others. I couldn't hear much but I did pick a snip-it about a "Shadow King". Then, after they started to depart until only 2 were left, a female and male? I cannot be quite certain. They also said to "mark this spot" and I think they marked it in some way. They embedded a small green crystal (glowing until placed) in the floor in front of the tomb entrance. Their discussion implied that if the Shadow King attempted something again, this would alert them to the fact.

As I said, this is not the first time I have had some "shadowy" meetings. In the forge, there were 2 such instances, and both times they had helped in the fight and even saved Jozan and myself. When taking on the Great Ulf, I lay waiting in the shadows to get a better advantage and a sudden cold came over me. It was also accompanied by some whispering voices that I could not make out. After Ulf had passed by, not noticing me at all, I made my attack. After that, the cold and voices dissipated.

The next is even stranger. It was when the big lizard had decided to make a snack of Jozan. Silly enough the only thing I thought to do was to hop on top to make sure that we wouldn’t lose Jozan when the beast decided to take off. Jozan miraculously killed the beast but the momentum was such that it was carrying us straight off the cliff. I was prepared to see my life flash before my eyes, but to my amazement, I heard the voices whispering, felt the coldness, and Jozan and I woke up on the ground at the top of the cliff.

I do not know what to make of the strangeness I have been experiencing but for now it seems to be a help not a hindrance. I have consulted with my mentor and friend Ardestor, but he is at a loss to explain it. I have found no one knowledgeable on this matter.

All this and now for some reason, I find myself involved in Dravot's dilemma as well. I need some answers and hopefully soon. I just wish I knew why fate would have it to intertwine our paths. I also find it a bit amusing that I would be involved with another cleric, of Pelor to top it all off. Keeps telling me about the “light and glory” of Pelor. Blah, blah, blah. It all seems an improbable jest. At least it wasn't a Cleric of Cuthbert.

I am hoping that we can get some answers when we get to Ahlissa, though my gut feeling is to be very wary.

 

[Zad]

A Family Affair - Chapter 2

A Family Affair - Chapter 2 – A’Sailing we shall go

OOC Notes:

Experience for this session is 2270. 250 pt bonus to Valanthe for disarming and cannibalizing the trap. 250 pt bonus to Kayleigh for “convincing” the priest to talk to Dravot.


Notes for Next Time:

Quite a reception. Obviously our first priority is to get some information from the assassin, and then get ourselves off the streets and into a safer area with Bellamy.


This Week’s Adventure:

Just before leaving Dyvers, Rackhir returned from his personal business and noticed the new armor on several of our crew. He asked Valanthe to try to find him a similar shirt. Unfortunately it seems we’ve depleted the town stock and Rackhir had to pay dearly for it, but at least he got one, and he did not seem too concerned about the money.

We set sail the next morning on to the Nyr Dyv. The water was calm and the weather pleasant. I’ve never been much for travel by ship but it was pleasant enough, and at least I wasn’t wet. It was a comfort being on an elven ship with an elven crew, and the songs they sang while working gave me great comfort. I even learned a couple of them as the days went by.

As soon as we were aboard, Scorch locked himself in his cabin. (I use the phrase “cabin” loosely – more of a closet with a hammock really – this ship was not built for passengers.) However it was suited to his purposes and we only saw him rarely when he emerged for food. The others thought he was being his usual unsociable self but I knew better. The smell of the inks cut even through the salt air, and the black stains on his hands told the tale even more clearly – he was copying spells into his book – something I could appreciate. Had I more gold, I’d be doing much the same, but for now I have other needs. I remember reading of a magical spellbook that would accept a spell with even the most ordinary ink. I’ll have to see if I can find out more about this some time.

Dravot was not about much either. He had a much nicer room but still seemed moody. I’m sure in his position I’d be equally brooding. On the first day I examined the arrow that the ogres used to track him. It was a simple device that would home in on whoever bore the same mark as it was imprinted with. But there was more to the mark somehow. I drew the same mark on Jozan’s arm, and it did not track him, even though he was closer than Dravot at the time. The mark is a stylized old Aerdi character according to Dravot (when I could get a few words out of him) but more than that he could not remember. I was most disturbed that the arrow still functioned aboard ship – many such location divinations will not work across running water and I was hopeful that Dravot would be immune to being tracked for at least a little while.

The captain planned to stay near the coast until he was sure this good spring weather would hold, and then he would cut across the sea. On the third day, he ordered the course changed and we set off into the open sea. Scorch still scribbled, Dravot was still sequestered away, but the journey continued. When I was not studying or practicing my harp, Rackhir and I were amusing ourselves with target practice. The ship was just large enough to allow some interesting shots on the rolling sea, and the crew’s initial apprehension eased when they saw us start shooting and quibbling over accuracy of half a hand span.

Dravot actually came out of his cabin today, and spoke with Jozan for some time. He seemed pale, but that was hardly surprising. So far he has been reluctant to share and for the time being, I am not pressing him.

On the fourth day, the ship lurched violently. The waters had gotten a fair bit rougher and we seemed to be in the middle of a spring storm. On a second look it was not a storm at all but several minor water elementals buffeting the ship. They were spraying enough water around to make it seem as if it were raining. Suddenly I was nicked with an arrow, and Scorch and Jozan as well. (Scorch had come above-deck to see what the ruckus was.) Jozan caught a glimpse of a small boat with several bowmen on it as it crested a wave.

Suddenly the sea rose up and deposited two water elementals on the deck. There was also a spell caster on the other boat, and a stinking cloud covered most of the ship. I was not in the cloud but Dravot was gagging and wretching from a full lung of the gas. I fired a couple shots at a nearby elemental while Scorch threw a fireball at the enemy ship. Jozan and an elemental exchanged blows with little effect.

Suddenly a glowing hand appeared in front of Scorch. He recognized it immediately as a spectral hand and wasted no time in destroying it to prevent the mage on the other ship from doing further damage. On the other ship, the archers appeared to cast a spell.

One of the elementals attacked me. I knew there was a fair chance that if we killed the mage, the elementals might vanish, so I chose to try to dodge past the elemental and attack the mage. Unfortunately I dodged rather badly, and the blow from the elemental broke nearly broke my arm. I still managed to put an arrow into the mage for all that, and Rackhir killed some of the opposing bowmen.

The fight began to swing our way, and Jozan and Rackhir destroyed the elementals and I got another shaft into that mage. Valanthe, in the rigging, could see two people on the other ship grabbing some sort of crystal under a tarp and going overboard with it. The mage soon followed them and they all vanished beneath the waves. Without the mages attention, the elementals harassing the ship dispersed and the sea was calm again.

We boarded the other ship – it had no oars and no sail. The crystal they removed may have been some means of propelling the boat. There was a trap in the main cabin designed to scuttle the boat should it be tripped, and likely kill whomever tripped it. Valanthe disabled it and she and Scorch managed to recover a good deal of the alchemy involved. On board we found little more than the three archers’ bodies. We took them with us and sank the ship.

The next day, Dravot cast a spell to speak with the dead – the reason we took the bodies. They told us this was not an attack to recover Dravot like what we faced in Dyvers but simple random piracy. They had been instructed to increase their efforts in this area lately. Since this was a random attack, we could learn little more from them, and dropped the bodies overboard.

(OOC encounter notes: 2 elementals cr7 – probably too high – 3 archers cr3, no credit for mage or the monks, overall EL7. There were 3 composite longbows on the archers for loot and not much else.)

Fortunately the rest of the journey was much more tranquil. It was nice to spend a fortnight simply playing and studying and relaxing. I can’t remember the last time I just had a chance to enjoy the sunrise. Scorch scribbled and cackled every few days. Dravot rarely came on deck. And the rest of us enjoyed the journey. The crew was remarkably tolerant while I got my harp and myself in tune. I did manage to get some time out of him to discuss customs and protocols but that was about all.

A few days before we were due to make port, I discussed something with Dravot and the others. Given that we were known to be leaving from Dyvers and known to be heading for Ahlissa and Dravot’s home, it was fairly easy to figure that we would be landing in Prymp. How simple would it be for a man to sit at the docks and wait for four humans, two elves, a giant wolf and a kobold to show up? We thought perhaps we should at least attempt to make things more difficult for our pursuers. About five miles before reaching Prymp, we leapt overboard, buoyed by water walking. We simply walked onto land and planned to slip away from Prymp quietly. Unfortunately we had some difficulty in acquiring horses but we were finally able to procure some, albeit at an unreasonable price.

We mounted up and rode across the countryside, avoiding inns and the like. We were hoping to avoid being noticed until we arrived at Hexpools. It was a three day ride before we saw the city. While it was certainly no Greyhawk, it was a well developed trade city. It was one of the first cities reclaimed after Ivid’s reign and had some semblance of sanity return to it. The city watch was unsurprisingly concerned about our arrival, but this time they were set at ease when they saw the Cleric of Pelor. Dravot commented that there was more of a military presence than he was used to seeing, but given the bandits in the area I did not find this surprising.

Dravot wanted to stop long enough to see if Bellamy was here. We went to the church and Dravot was received welcomely. (Direct quote from Wizardru, don’t ask me ) We are told by a minor acolyte that Bellamy was not there but was at Dravot’s family estates. The fellow clearly knew more of the situation than he was prepared to say, out of some sense of decorum. Seems he did not feel that he was the proper person to talk to Dravot about these matters.

Dravot did not seem to have the resolve to argue with the man. Whatever he knew, I thought it would be important for Dravot to know it, so I decided to get involved. Now while I may be of high birth, I rarely think much of it. But this little man truly annoyed me, and I drew out a few lessons from my father on dealing with such individuals. While my minimal station may have had little meaning here, my father always said that it was more the man than the title. I proceeded to explain to this fellow how important it was for Dravot to have a full understanding of the facts, having been gone so long. And how terrible it would be if something unfortunate happened and Dravot could not act, due to a lack of information. He did not feel it was appropriate for him to be telling Dravot these things. But he quickly saw things my way, and took Dravot aside to reveal whatever he knew.

Dravot did not tell us what the man had said. I was not pleased at this. After I had convined the man to speak plainly I was annoyed that Dravot would not do the same. Family matter or not, if he wants my help with this, he had better be more forthcoming, and soon.

We told the man we would stay the night in Hexpools and proceed on to Brendenford (where the family manor is) in the morning. We left the church and proceeded immediately to Brendenford. If there were people on our heels, perhaps they would be thrown off by this misdirection. If not, then there was no harm done.

As we got closer to Brendenford, we saw fewer patrols on the roads. We did come across ten heads on spikes as we got closer to town. They had probably been put there within the week, and had only a single ribbon as explanation. Dravot said it was the colors of house Reynard – a minor house with claims in the area.

The area is densely forested on the way to Brendenford. Finally we come to the Old Ford Gate, one of the three main gates into town. There were ten heavily armed guards at the entrance, wearing Dravot’s household colors. Near the river outside of town was a halfling encampment. In a display I’m becoming all too familiar with, and no small bit weary of, they began drawing weapons as we approached and calling for reinforcements. One of them, Euphamis, recognized “the young Lord Dravot” and told them to stand down. They bowed and scraped according to custom and we moved on.

Down the Old Ford Road was a large temple of Pelor. It was fairly filled with people at that time of day. Dravot muttered a comment about the townsfolk looking more disheveled than he remembered, and the street being far more noisy than he recalls. I’m not sure if that was true or Dravot was just the victim of memory’s hesitance to remember the bad points it encounters. One thing I found odd – even our strange group did not generate much comment. In such a small town I would not have been surprised to have all activity come to a halt as we came down the road.

We turned up East Gate Way towards the keep. It’s really more of a manor house with some light fortifications around it. Valanthe and I both spotted someone moving across the rooftops, but lacking any way to pursue, we simply let it go.

The crowd got thicker as we closed on the keep. Dravot suddenly realized it was almost Firemeet and hence time for the festival, and that would explain the number of people. It does seem odd that they’re not very festive though. Jozan and Rackhir hear a horse moving ahead, riding urgently. It turns out to be Bellamy – he tried to get to us through the crowd and yelled at Dravot “You must leave town! Do not give in to what they ask for!” He then falls forward in his saddle, a crossbow bolt in his back.

The bolt seemed to come from above and ahead somewhere. Most of the townsfolk scattered quickly except several who oddly did not. We hardly had time to notice before those lingerers turned into wererats and moved to surround us and Bellamy.

Dravot quickly rode up and healed Bellamy. Valanthe used her new boots and climbed up to the roof in search of the sniper. Scorch dropped a web and entangled half the wererats (and a few stray townsfolk as well). One wererat wiggled free of the webbing and came toward me.

Valanthe reached the roof and was attacked by the assassin who had been invisible. Scorch tried to cast hold person on a rat but it shrugged off the effects. Crescent bit hard into a rat but it healed almost immediately. Even Shatterspike did little good against these beasts. Rackhir and Jozan moved to protect Dravot and Bellamy. I stepped back and cast Shield – I did not relish the thought of becoming a wererat. Our attackers were using rapiers but they could just as easily bite. Interestingly Scorch threw a magic missile and hurt the unwebbed rat badly. Our weapons my have had little effect but the rats were also quite fragile. I shot at the injured rat and killed him – the arrow had little effect but the flames still hurt him.

Jozan blessed Rackhir’s weapon and energized Shatterspike and the two of them cut a swath through the rats. Valanthe struggled with the assassin but was stronger and quicker than he was and put him in a headlock. As we were finishing the last of the rats, she walked him down the building. I checked his chest – he had none of the protections our last set of assassins did, and I wasted no time in charming him. Hopefully we have our hands on two people who can start to shed some light on this whole business.

(OOC: 8 wererats CR3, 1 assassin CR6, overall EL 7)


Dravot’s Journal

What is going on in my head is neither an illusion nor the result of madness, although madness may be the ultimate result. We have been travelling on the ship for the past few days, and the dreams and visions continue. I continue to feel ill and morose. I cannot say whether it s because of the passage of time, or because I am approaching my home, and whatever has gone horribly wrong there.

I have barely left my cabin since boarding. I summon my own food and water, partaking in only the nourishment granted me by my god. At least my cabin is somewhat bearable. I’m sure that the first mate doesn’t mind my use of his cabin for the journey, I certainly paid enough for his inconvenience. Scorch is in the cramped room next to mine, bothering me at all hours with his mutterings, incantations and minor...explosions?

The mark upon my arm is still there, seeming to get worse. I still do not know what it is, but I now have more details about it. I have asked Jozan for his help in this matter. I did not want to do so, but I know that he is a pious man, raised to appreciate the splendor of Pelor, and that he might help me shed some light upon this dread mark. We tried to cast protection from evil upon me, but that did nothing at all. Next Jozan tried his paladin healing ability on my arm, but that resulted in actual injury. The last thing we tried was the thing I dreaded the most - detect undead upon myself. I could have done so earlier, alone, but even though I don’t want to share this with anyone, I couldn’t face this myself.

Jozan offered to cast the spell, but I refused. I had to do this for myself. I cast the spell and found that I had the taint of the undead upon me, radiating from the mark on the arm. I promptly vomited up the contents of my stomach. How could this be? I do not understand. I try to be a pious man, I devote my life and my works to Pelor, and his continuing pursuit against the undead, and now I am tainted as such.

I have followed Pelor since I met Bellamy, when he helped my family vs. that evil undead creature that killed my brother, Roget and my enslaved my cousin. I will stay up all night and pray to Pelor for guidance.

Before Jozan left, we compared our observations about this mark. I have determined that it is more than divine in nature. It seems to have some level of arcane magic in it as well. It s a ... natural blending of the two, almost a magical alloy. This is quite powerful indeed. Jozan thinks that there is some sort of, well, link between it and some pool of negative energy. We are uncertain if this pool is creeping into my body, or if there is currently a state of equilibrium. It certainly explains why his healing would damage me, and my channeling of positive energy would result in such pain that I would pass out.

As Jozan left, I thought I heard something out in the hallway, but there was nothing there. This ship is probably infested with rats.

I will pray now for guidance.

The next day

Last night, during my prayers, we were set upon by a violent storm, or so it seemed. In reality we were attacked by pirates, most likely of the Scarlet Brotherhood. I blessed my companions, but then fell victim to a stinking cloud cast by one of our foes. Truth be told, I really didn’t have any energy to do much more. Much to my shame, I almost welcomed the foul cloud as an excuse to lie there and avoid action. Eventually, I did come to my senses and helped out, but it was mostly over by this time.

We captured the abandoned boat, and found the corpses of some of the pirates. I asked Pelor for the ability to interrogate the enemy, and discovered that this was a random attack, and that they had been increasing their raids on local shipping in the last couple of months. At least this does not seem to be directed at myself, which is good. I believe that this maybe part of the increase in local unrest that letters from home have mentioned.

Next day

I had another dream last night. It was somewhat similar to the others. Luckily, I was alone this time, none of my companions joined me in my madness. I found myself in a field camp, not far from a horrific battle. I was in a large tent, occupied obviously by the commanders of one side of the battle. One person mentioned that at least 10,000, maybe 11,000 had died so far. Someone then asked about undead upon the wall...the answer was: "another 5,000-6,000". Even though it was a dream, I got a chill down my spine.

One of the men present was a cleric of Pelor, and there was another man in full chain, dressed in red and white. Was he a member of my household guard? I do not know. I then recognized my father, again younger than he is now. I am not sure if he was younger or older than my previous visions however.

I looked at the battle map on the main table. It was of the city of Rinloru, northeast of Ahlissa. Although I have had a bit of exposure to strategic and tactical training through my family, I confess that I couldn’t really understand what was going on according to the map.

On a chair nearby was one of the Herzogs, from House Chelzor. He spoke: "And what of Delgorath and the Hextor Priests?" The cleric of Pelor spoke up, "We can handle them."

Someone then mentioned Ivid the Undying..."We don’t know what Hextor did, but we’ll destroy it."

I then realized that Mordenkainen himself was in the tent. He spoke. "We have dealt with Ivid before, we will do our tasks...just make sure that you and your priests stay out of our way.: He then left the tent.

At this point I looked up and saw a man in white, who told me it was time to go, and I awoke in my cabin, to find Jozan there, keeping an eye on me in my troubled sleep. Right now I believe that I am receiving dreams or visions from 2 separate sources. I need to figure out what they want from me.

We have left Hexpools at the fastest pace we possibly can. It was on the way to Brendenford, so it was worth the time to see if Bellamy had returned, or if he was still at the family estates. My luck is certainly not what it used to be, as Bellamy wasn’t there. Windsor, his secretary, greeted us and bade us to come in, offering us refreshments. Apparently Bellamy hasn’t been back to Hexpools in 2 months, and hasn’t sent anything in 3 or more weeks.

In my continued state, I didn’t notice, but Windsor was clearly nervous and evasive. Kayleigh spoke up, asking him what he was hiding. He protested that he wasn’t hiding anything, and that it wasn’t his place to say. Kayleigh insisted that he speak anyway. Had I been of a better mindset, I would have done the same, but I couldn’t. Windsor took me into the next room and gave me the awful news. I refuse to believe it, else I would have heard something of the sort. I asked him about any major battles in the past 20 years, but he professed not to know anything. Next time I speak with someone, they will give me information.

After getting this information, I said nothing to my companions, just that we were going. I didn’t look back or wait for them. I just got on my horse and headed out of town. Only then did I realize that I didn’t inquire about the cause of death. Too late; it doesn’t matter. Time is of the essence.

In Brindenford

Approaching Brendenford, we came across 10 skulls on posts along the side of the road. They had ribbons in the colors of House Reynard. Reynard has always been a thorn in our side, making illicit claims upon d’Chandagnac lands. Given everything else right now, this cannot be a good sign. Are they behind this unrest, or taking advantage of it? I resolved to find out.

We entered through the ford gates. At first we were challenged, until Euphamis recognized me. I was both alarmed and pleased by the guard’s vigilance. It is always a good feeling to know that they are crisp and serious in their job, yet they seemed almost too serious, as if they had been besieged - not literally but figuratively.

The crowds seemed thick until I realized that we were approaching the Festival of Firemeet. I then realized that the crowd was way too...subdued for a normal Firemeet crowd. This alarmed me. Normally we would have been quite a sight, especially with Jozan’s mount and squire, but the crowd seemed little interested in us, or in clearing the way.

As we approached the final turn toward the family house, a rider approached us from that direction. It took me a moment to recognize Bellamy, and I waved, finally glad to find someone I could trust and confide in. When he recognized me, he called out to me: "You must leave town! Do not give in to what they ask for!" At this point he was struck by an arrow from some unseen source. The crowd screamed and melted away, leaving 8 men, 4 in front and 4 behind us. They ... turned into ratmen before our eyes, hideous and evil, and they had murderous intent in their eyes. Bellamy slumped over in his saddle, and I could tell that the arrow had been poisoned.

I pulled my horse back to center myself as well as possible, and prayed to Pelor for his assistance, for I knew we would need it. I couldn’t aid all of my companions, but most would benefit from Pelor s assistance. Valanthe saw something on the rooftops and disappeared up there to investigate. Jozan and Rakhir engaged the front 4 ratmen, discovering that our enemy had been cursed with lycanthropy. I had a silvered dagger for such an occasion, but never got the chance to pull it out.

Scorch and Kayleigh kept the back 4 ratmen occupied with web spells and magic missiles. Scorch even used another one of his lightning bolts at one point. I healed Bellamy twice, and Jozan healed him once, and Bellamy was still badly wounded. I summoned a hammer of Pelor to fight for me while I tended to Bellamy s wounds, and struggled against one ratman who was trying to keep Bellamy from our clutches. At one point, I tried searing light upon a ratman, but I didn’t have the confidence in myself to allow it to succeed. Finally though, the ratmen were vanquished, and Valanthe showed up on the edge of the rooftop with the ringleader of this ambush. Kayleigh charmed him with a spell, and asked him to come down, while I looked at Bellamy’s wounds.

[partial entry to be completed later]


Valanthe’s Journal

Well we all have to visit home sometime…

It was nice to stop by in Dyvers again. Definitely a more interesting and busy place to be in than the few villages that we've visited in the last few months. I stopped by to visit Mother Gota. She seems to be well. The gold I left should keep the orphanage running well for a bit. And, of course, I dropped by the temple to see Ardestor. Same as he always is. You know, for all the lecturing that clerics do, how do they have time to do anything else? Yeah, yeah, I know he worries and means well. After I gave him the details of the last trip and my experiences, he's probably worrying more. (He'll probably blame that gray hair on me). Unfortunately he doesn't really know anything about the Shadow King and what is happening with my newfound abilities. I really hope I get some kind of information soon.

But anyway, we got to unload our items for sale. We got some really good income from them. I must be going soft though. I didn't even skim a single GP. Ardestor's lectures must be wearing off on me. I did a little shopping for me, but as for my companions… well I think we put a dent in the Mithril market.

Unfortunately it seems that we are marked for trouble. It really seems to be following us now. And Dravot seems to be the link to all this. Someone wants him bad. The Ogres and Brotherhood from the tavern brawl we tracking him with some kind of magic arrow. I wonder if this is all related to his troubles back home…

Well, we got a ship bound for Ahlissa. I am hoping that we can't be tracked as easily.

Sailing, sailing…

The boat ride started out uneventful. Most of us found ways to keep busy. Scorch locked himself up in his little broom closet of a cabin. Except for the occasional "boom" and a black cloud of stinky smoke, you wouldn't have really known he was here. Kayleigh and Jozan spent some time studying the arrow that was meant to track Dravot and found that it won't track you if you just draw a symbol on you, it seems top be much more choosy than that. Rackhir (what did he do? I can't remember)

I sorta worry about Dravot. Having those dreams/visions is sorta shaking him up. He spent his time locked away in his cabin. He only came out to discuss a few matter with Jozan, which I happened to "overhear". Jeez poor Dravot, got that symbol on his arm and now he's turned a little bit undead. Ewww.

And me? Well I decided to keep in shape by helping the crew in the rigging. It's kinda fun swinging around up there. And I thought it was time to help Meepo out a bit. He's definitely got more of my veins in him than a paladin. Noble intentions are nice, but it's not for everybody. You have to learn to use what talents you got the best you can. See Meepo just needs a few pointers in how to hide better and wait for the right opportunity to strike and make the most of his attack. Once he gets a bit better I think that'll give him a little more confidence, it'll be good for the little guy. He's not really as bad as everyone thinks. He did save Scorch from the Great Ulf and his wolves. Snicker.

So much for a peaceful trip…

Well, there we were, just sailing along. You think we could stay outta trouble for a bit? Guess again. You'd think we pissed off some gods or such. Anyway, blam! Here comes a smaller vessel with archers and a mage. Oh yeah, and a few water elemental pals of theirs. Well, I know where my weaknesses are. Up the riggings I go (that practice came in useful now). I figured I'd I'm better off trying to plink the mage and his archers. Trying was the operative word there. I think I'd better spend more time with a bow; I'm a bit rusty.

After a bit of a skirmish, we managed to take them out. All except the mage and another, who grab this big blue crystal and dove into the sea and disappeared. I boarded the boat to check it out and did manage to find this pretty elaborate trap that used some red crystals and such. I didn't really like leaving that around. Scorch knew better what it was and I helped him salvage some of it for him to study. Hopefully he'll find a good use for it. But then again, maybe I don't want to know what he'll do with it.

Well, we decided that the way someone keeps figuring out where to find us, we'll try the indirect route to the city. We left the ship a bit out of town. Now we only needed to find some horses. I left the horse procurement to the others. I know a good bit about gems and armor and merchandise but I'm no nature girl when it comes to animals. I could tell you " yep that's a horse." But no way can I tell you if it's good or not.

Onward we rode…

 

[Zad]

A Family Affair - Chapter 3

A Family Affair - Chapter 3

OOC Notes:

Experience: 1300 each, 250 point bonus for Rackhir to push him over the top.


Notes for Next Time:

I have no idea. Clearly we need to get Dravot. Clearly we need rest before assaulting the manor house. One possible plan is to get out of town and pull back to the estate outside of town and talk to Dravot’s sister. She can hopefully tell us of the secret door and maybe other information, and we can pick up the house champion. We rest and prepare, and we can then hit the house, either through the secret door or perhaps some other way Valanthe can arrange.

At this point we have to deal with 1) the demon 2) the animus (a.k.a. “Grampa”) 3) the blackguard 4) the house watch, who, I suspect, are wererats since they pinged evil. The town watch might be able to help us with the wererats.


This Week’s Adventure:

I barely have time to jot down some thoughts. We’re hiding from the house guard right now, and I thought it best to make some notes before we moved on.

Now that the assassin was in our hands, I took him aside and started questioning him. Magic can only do half the work for you with these kinds of things – he was receptive and trusting but I had to keep that trust and manipulate it to find out what I needed to know. Fortunately he was not too bright and I had some fast answers. His answers made me think he was Scarlet Brotherhood – he used familial references to his superiors, mentioned he was third rank and got his orders from a second rank. He was also waiting for his partner to kill him for his failure. Only now to I start to realize that I may have jumped to a conclusion about the brotherhood. For one thing, their people are better protected and trained than this fool. For another…well, I’ll get to that later. He also indicated they were to do nothing unless Bellamy did something, which implies that he took some action recently that caused this attack.

Sure enough, a small white pebble was thrown at him. The air in the area froze quickly and nearly froze my arm off. The assassin was frozen stiff, dead and I was badly hurt.

While I was talking to the assassin, Dravot and Scorch examined Bellamy. The bolt he was shot with was indeed poisoned with something that was quickly evaporating. Scorch wrapped it up and headed off to find and alchemy shop with Rackhir to consider a possible antidote. The assassin indicated it was the “special dose” and he had no more of that poison on him, nor was there any antidote he knew of.

Having nothing else to keep us, we hustled Bellamy off the streets and headed towards the family manor house in town a short bit away. The house watch stood guard, and looked to have as big a contingent as the town watch. They showed the usual unease at our fast approach and Dravot called for them to stand aside as we approached. They were uncertain but parted at the gesture of a man in velvets upon the outer wall. He had black hair but I had time to discern nothing else of him.

Just before we reached the gates the town watch came on to the street behind us. They showed some unease at the sight of the house watch. From my conversations with Dravot and from what I had seen so far, it was clear that these people reacted to rank, so the easiest thing to do for now was act like I had some. (My own rank of course meant nothing to them and I didn’t see it relevant to even bother trying that tack.) I told the watch to stand firm and wait and I would return in a few moments.

We quickly got Bellamy inside one of the apartments. When the situation looked secure, I went out to talk to the town watch. I picked out one of the house watch wearing a sash and told him firmly “Nobody comes in or out except for me or anyone with Lord Dravot’s permission!” and rode off without giving him a chance to consider it.

Lieutenant Euphamis was at the lead of the watch, and we went to his barracks to discuss the situation and the attack. On the way we passed by the city street turned battle ground. The assassin was shattered in pieces and the wererat bodies were being burned by the town watch. The practiced way they handled that made it clear they had been dealing with many wererats lately. I paused to examine the remains of the assassin. His boots had something to them and were magical, and I retrieved them as well as two belt pouches that had some vials in them – more poison I assume. Euphamis was patient while I examined the remains and when I was satisfied we moved on.

Once in his modest office, we being our conversation. I provide him the particulars of the attack, and he tells me that while they have seen many wererats of late, they were always few in number and never so organized or brazen. He informs me that he took this position some five months ago when his predecessor was re-assigned.

We quickly establish an understanding and he turns out to be the most forthcoming person I have spoke to in some time. In our conversations it becomes apparent that he is also in service to the Council of Scale and shows me a token of the Brazen. He tells me that there is a contact in the Chatter Street Market, and then proceeds to bring me up to date on recent happenings.

There are six children in Dravot’s family. Roget, who has been dead for fifteen years, returned six months ago. At about the same time, the father, Anton, takes ill. Roget was speaking of some secret that had to be kept. He brings the third son, Gerrin with him and after some private conversation, Gerrin speaks for Roget and says that all is well and it is indeed Roget. There is of course a stir but to all examinations it does seem to be Roget. The oldest sister, Thora, was less that warm however in her reception of her brother. Kaltin, the oldest and heir, also took ill after Roget’s return, and Roget has been effectively running the house while his father and brother are incapacitated.

Most of Euphamis’ contacts have been rotated out of the house and information has become more sketchy and third hand. Gerrin disappeared two or three months ago. Sources say he snuck out of the city. However the next day at least a dozen members of the house guard rode out and have not yet returned. Steffania, the young daughter of only six or so, barely knows what is happening and Thora keeps her tightly sequestered.

Some months ago Thorkel, the captain of the house guard, took Thora and Steffania to the estate outside of town and has not been seen since. Euphamis is unable to get any spies inside the estate and has been getting information only from servants. The servants claim there have been several arguments but they rarely pay attention to content. It is unclear whether Thora was sent out of town or went of her own accord but it appears she was sent. Thorkel took her horse by reign and would brook no other. Since Thorkel left, there has been a new captain – Skankel. He has a fierce blade somehow enchanted, and the man himself is an albino.

Wererats started appearing some eight months ago before Anton took ill.

Bellamy came from Hexpools and sought to cure the disease and perhaps extend his life but has met with little success. He then began residing in the manor itself about the same time Gerrin disappeared.

There have been other sightings and strange happenings in town. Stories of the night coming alive and killing people have been circulating. The watch finds bodies but no witnesses. The frequency of these attacks has been increasing, and there have been a few attacks that were not lethal. The survivors speak of something from the shadows attacking. When the attack is fatal, the bodies decay very rapidly.

Most people on the street seem to think that the house is under some sort of curse.

As for the dark haired man, he is an advisor to Roget but Euphamis has no idea who he is. He seems to be a physician of some sort and frequently checks on the father and brother. (Valanthe followed him for a time and there is an emblem on his doublet of a cleric of Hextor.) People who cross him seem to disappear.

The town watch will support us in our efforts, but their first responsibility is to safeguard the people. Given the forces at the manor, we may need their help.

While I was with the guard, Dravot and Jozan examined Bellamy. He was stable but not in good health. Scorch spent some hours playing with the poison, which had its origin outside the prime material plane. He managed to make some kind of countertoxin which they administered to Bellamy. Dravot then saw his brother Roget, as well as his father. Dravot is, of course, shaken by seeing his long dead brother.

By the time I had returned, Dravot was in the garden near the fountain with the rest of our group. I wanted to hear the whole story from him, and I was ready to throttle him to get it. However he had already realized it was time to bare his heart and tell all he knew. Much of it I had already heard from Euphamis, however there was the mark. The mark on Dravot’s arm had worsened slightly and was evil with the taint of undead upon it. Bellamy had a similar mark but was in a much more advanced state. I was about to relate the word from Euphamis but never got the chance.

As we spoke, Valanthe kept an eye out for unwanted visitors. Unsurprisingly she found one. An assassin invisible on the wall, watching us. She attempted to strike but still unused to walking on walls, she missed. In order to stop this spy, Valanthe told Scorch to fire away, and Scorch loosed a fireball across the garden. The explosion damaged Valanthe somewhat but it killed the assassin. A spectral hand rose up from the dead body wielding a crescent blade, and then faded away. It was the symbol of Nerull, god of the dead.

Then for no obvious reason, a great wailing arose from the crypt. The house watch began reacting and Jozan was confronted with the sense of evil from a great many sources. Also answering this call was the new captain. Jozan immediately recognized him as a blackguard. He drew a wicked black blade with an unholy purple light to it and rallied his forces.

In all our adventures, we have never had what I would call a “leader”. We have discussed options and acted on consensus. Today we learned the limitations of such a method. None of us had a clear idea what to do let alone how to best do it, and we wasted considerable time in that indecision. Dravot made the decision to save Bellamy and Jozan and Rackhir went with him. Scorch took off towards the stables, intent on retreat. I at first thought he was simply saving himself but was shamed when I saw he was gathering all the horses rather than simply running for it. Valanthe promptly vanished. I followed Scorch to the courtyard.

Inside the house, Rackhir and Jozan managed to break out the barred window and took Bellamy out that way, since their retreat was cut off by some strong sense of evil. Dravot stepped into the hallway and saw his brother. Of course it was not his brother but some twisted demon, and it promptly revealed itself as such and entangled Dravot in the hallway in some type of webbing. Jozan tried desperately to free him but ultimately heeded Dravot’s urgings to flee and save himself. He resolved to let Dravot’s faith be his shield, and joined the rest of us outside.

While this was going on, I was trying to prevent our escape from being shut off. Several guards were closing the gate. They fell from arrow fire quickly enough but there were men in the tower lowering the portcullis. Near the door was the large bar used to seal the exit. I could never have lifted it by myself, but Scorch’s quick thinking enhanced my strength with a spell and I was able to lift the beam. I used it to stop the descent of the portcullis and placed it to one side, so the massive gate promptly became stuck in the mechanism. Even if they removed the beam, the gate would not fall easily.

So our group minus Dravot and Valanthe, rode out with Bellamy. We hastily made for the market square to find our contact and get out of sight. We lucked upon the proper tavern just in the nick of time. We were told that the house watch was scouring the town for us, and that we should leave town quickly.

As for what is happening to Dravot, I cannot say. I can only hope that whatever purpose they have in mind for him requires him to be alive long enough for us to attempt a rescue. We need to withdraw and prepare first, but then we shall have to return to the manor and destroy the evils within.

I just hope we’re not too late.


From Dravot's Journal

In Pelor's name, what have I done? Over the past hour or so, as the precious remaining sunlight has faded, I have debated my actions. I find it fitting, though chilling that Pelor's light would leave me at such a time. Bellamy and I have talked about such life decisions like this. I believe that there is no right answer or wrong answer, there is only my answer. I hope and believe that Pelor will back me on this. I will know come sunrise if I am still smiled upon by his radiant light, or if I am cast into darkness and must atone for my decision.

6 months ago I would have quavered at the idea of disgracing myself before Pelor. Now, if it has happened, I am at peace, for I have made the best decision I could with the information I had at hand. I dearly love my little sister, and, as painful as it is to say, would have sacrificed her in order to prevent this abomination from proliferating. I couldn't do that to the entire town, however. If Chavram is right (I cannot call him grandfather...that feculent, rotting corpse is not my grandfather, just as the demon is not my brother), he would have gotten his way anyway. I wonder if I could have postponed it though, then I remember what the price would be.

I know what the mark is upon my arm now. Ivid the Undying marked some of his generals with this mark...originally the mark of the hounds of his house. Later it was used to mark the animus generals that he raised from the dead. Now I know why the mark radiates evil and undead when I examine it. I am half tempted to cut it off...the arm or the mark, I haven't decided yet.

Now I know what Bellamy was talking about when he came riding toward us. Too bad we had no idea what it meant.

I am writing this by my last light spell, which should last another 30 minutes or so. I have carefully investigated the crypt that I am trapped in, and the door as well. I am trying to place this particular room in my mental map of the crypts, but my concentration is not what it was 3 hours ago. When I am done writing, I will investigate a bit more, and then I will pray to Pelor for guidance, for forgiveness, and for my family and Bellamy's well being. I can only hope that the others got out safely, but from what I could gather they had. I will pray all night, so that I do not miss the sunrise, even if I cannot see it in this dark, dark hole.

It all happened so fast. Jozan had just handed me a note from Valanthe when Scorch and Rackhir got back. I barely glanced at it as we moved to the fountain near the crypts for some privacy. I hoped that the noise of the water might help to muffle our conversation. The note mentioned that the mysterious man at the manor gates was a priest of Hextor. I should have gotten us out of the estate then and there, but we had business to attend to. As we met, Valanthe showed up. I asked her to look around for any spies while I finally told the others what was going on.

Maybe I should have said something earlier, but at the time it was vague and disturbing dreams...nothing solid or real. We have been through a lot together though, and even though you don't talk about family with commoners, I should have recognized their good hearts and good will and let them know.

Anyway, I was able to mention the basics, Father's and Kaltin's illness, Roget's return and Gerrin's disappearance. I was about to explain more in depth, and mention the priest of Hextor when Valanthe spotted a spy, cleverly hidden halfway up the walls. She snuck up on him and landed a blow on his body. Rackhir quickly fired a shot and hit him as well. I blessed us and ran forward to give some sort of assistance to Valanthe. I had hoped to doom him, allowing us to capture him more easily, but he went invisible and I was helpless. Scorch and Valanthe had other ideas, however.

With Valanthe's approval, Scorch let loose a fireball into the wall, hitting both Valanthe and the assassin. Valanthe was wounded, but the assassin was killed outright.

It was quiet for a few seconds...then we noticed the sound of the guards heading our way. They stopped about fifty feet from us. Just then, the new captain of the guards stepped out onto the wall. He was pale white, with shock white hair. Jozan sensed great evil coming from the guards, and even more from the captain. I sorely wished that Thorkeld was still here, but I was glad that he was with my sisters, keeping them from harm. The new captain had a sword, much like Shatterspike but it radiated an evil purple color that seemed familiar.

I approached the guard, and attempted to use my influence with them to calm them down. They completely ignored me; the looked right through me. I suspect that they were under some form of control.

At this point, everything just melted into chaos. Our normally orderly party, which agrees on most everything just fell to pieces. Valanthe disappeared, leaving us high and dry. Scorch ran off for the horses, but seemed at first to grab only one. Only when Kayleigh took off after him did it occur to him that others might need horses too.

I hightailed it back to the house, to rescue Bellamy and take him with us. I would have taken Father and Kaltin as well, but they were too far into the house to even try it. I also looked for Jasmine on the way in. I hoped I could save her from this growing evil that had overtaken the house.

Jozan and Rackhir followed me into the house. In Bellamy's rooms, Jozan detected an even greater evil coming down the hallway toward us. With no time to lose, Rackhir grabbed Bellamy, Jozan took rear guard and I took vanguard. I hoped we could outrace this foul presence, whatever it was. I stepped out into the hallway and glanced down, seeing Roget come forward. At this point, nothing surprised me. I was almost expecting it to be him.

Just then he changed into a huge, hideous spider-like creature. I knew then and there where that poison came from. He then sprayed the hallway with a web, stronger than anything Scorch could cast, and I found myself stuck in it. The foul beast stood there, taunting me, calling out my name. It said things about making deals with my grandfather and that I would be seeing him shortly. Both of my grandfathers have been dead for several years, but I wasn't about to disbelieve him...not after how the rest of the day had gone.

Jozan tried to hack me out of the web, to no avail. My silvered dagger also had no effect. I also tried holy water on it, but that didn't help either. I didn't want to risk the others or Bellamy, so I shouted at them to get him out and save themselves. I knew then and there that I was dead. Now I only wish I was.

After a few frantic whacks at the window, they got the grill work off and got Bellamy out. They might have tried once more to come back for me, but I was preoccupied. I cast magic weapon on my mace, and prepared for the beast's advance. It was very fast on this web, but that was no surprise. It blocked my shot with ease. It then shredded my mithril shirt in one blow, leaving it tangled in the webbing.

I noticed that the holy water on the webbing burned it, and I had one more vial, but I held onto it, waiting for my moment. It gathered me in its arms, and headed out of the web. When we were free of the web I threw the vial onto him, which hurt him, but angered him more. He said that after Chavram was done with me, he'd get me. I prayed to Pelor for aid, but was only met with pain as the beast smashed me into a wall to shut me up. I continued to chant more quietly and it left me alone.

The courtyard was all chaos as men ran around. I could see nothing of my companions, which is why I believe that they got out.

I was then immobilized by a spell, and carried down into the crypts. We stopped at the crypt that I saw in my dreams and visions. I saw a green crystal buried in the debris near the door and felt an odd warming sensation as I was carried across the threshold.

At the other end of the dimly lit room stood two figures, one short, the other average height. The short one was my sister, Stefania. She should have been with Thora at the main estate. The pit of my stomach heaved when I saw who the other one was...and he had his hand on her shoulder. It was Chavram. The being who used to be my grandfather. I don't remember him at all, but I've seen his portrait on the walls, and it was unmistakably him. He was undead, an animus. One of Ivid's eternal servants. His complexion was that ghastly yellow I've seen on other undead, his eyes sunken, his teeth exposed. Had I gotten closer, I would have smelled rotting flesh for sure. As it was, the feculent smell in the room was bad enough.

He spoke to me...saying how Father wouldn't listen, and Kaltin wouldn't listen, but Gerrin listened. It was the same voice from the crypt visions. He wanted something...something from me. He said he could take it from me, or I could give it up of my own free will. My father and brother refused, and that's why they are in their current condition. I couldn't give in, even knowing what happened to them. I refused.

He then threatened my sister. My six year old, innocent sister. I love her dearly, but how could I surrender myself to an evil undead force such as this? I would greatly regret doing so, but Pelor's will requires that I fight undead at any cost. I refused.

He then threatened my entire town if I didn't cooperate. It was at this point that I caved in. The life of one person, even my sister was worth preventing this evil, but the entire town was another thing. They depend upon our House to protect them from evil like this. How could I send them to slaughter? I acquiesced finally.

It was like an enormous weight had lifted from my shoulders, but only for a second, as a heavier burden dropped upon them. I don't even know what I agreed to do, but I refused to do it until my sister was safe. He let her go and she ran to me. I whispered in her ear to seek out Jozan, the elven paladin for safety. I kissed her on the forehead and she nodded bravely and ran out of the room. I can only hope that she can get out of the estate and find my companions.

Someone brought forth a purple crystal, spewing forth an ugly light, just like in the visions. I did as I was told, and looked into it, concentrating on the light. I nearly fell over after a moment of looking at it. I was weak and drained. 3 and a half hours later I am still drained and tired. I find it harder to concentrate on tasks. This is most disturbing.

Chavram said something about having taken something from the lawful, from the neutral and from the chaotic, and that this would advance someone's plans, though I know not who's.

I was then taken and thrown into the room, this crypt. It may be my final resting place. If so, I am ready for it. It will depend on the will of Pelor. If I must atone for my actions, I accept this, and will do what it takes. If my path has not deviated from Pelor's path, then I will pray for guidance and strength, and I will get out. I will seek vengeance upon those who have corrupted my house and my town. I will see the foul outsider beast dead or banished from this plane, and I will personally smite Chavram and end his time upon this planet.

My spell is about to end, and I must stop writing now. I will pray and I will wait to find out what fate the dawn brings upon my soul.