Wizardru's Story Hour (updated 11/21)

[Argent Silvermage]

Interlude with a Dire Lion

(This takes place the night before we left for the astral plane)

The wind blew through the leaves of the Great Rowan making them rustle and the branches sway. Bolo and Lone Tooth sat underneath the tree and spoke of many things. Each was trying to help the other come to terms with their-own situation. Lone Tooth was sent by Ehlonna to this paradise in the middle of the tundra to be Bolo’s aid. Bolo had accepted him with open arms as he was told to expect of the Grand Druid, but his companions were up in arms about something Bolo was doing and Lone Tooth needed to know what it was.
“Brandybuck? I’ve noticed a few of your friends are worried about something you brought to the Land of Black Ice. I would know what it is and if it endangers you and the rest of the Grove.” Lone Tooth asked, his long feline frame lying next to Bolo.
Bolo looked worried and was hesitant to speak at first but eventually started speaking. “It all started this morning. We decimated a Githyanki cell in Celene, I called upon the earth to collapse a cavern that was being used as a Gith breeding hatchery. After all was said and done I went inside to make sure there were no survivors and to find anything we could use against the invasion. What I found was two un-hatched eggs. I looked upon them and the words of the First Ash came to me. It told me that the way to rebuild the Druids was to start with family. I have always treated everyone like I would treat my own kin and I looked on these eggs and saw one of them move inside the thin shell. My heart went out to them and I took them with me. I know that the others have issues with my wanting to raise them as my children but I’ve fallen in love with the eggs. I brought them here to my Grove so that they will be protected and raised by my parents and family.”
The Dire Lion leapt into the air and landed in front of Bolo his maw only inches from the druid’s face.
“You brought the spawn of the enemy HERE?” Lone Tooth said. “Are you mad? Is there some form of enchantment on you? Perhaps I should get the little mage to come here.”
Bolo was shocked by Lone Tooth’s display and instinctively stated to change. His form blurred and in an instant a Chimera stood facing Lone Tooth. “Don’t get in my face like that. Ever!” all three heads said at once before reforming as Bolo. “I did what I thought was right. The earthquake had spared them. I couldn’t just leave them there to die. What do you want me to do? Hand them back to the Gith and hope they weren’t abused and turned into monsters? No. I’ll never let that happen.” Bolo said sitting back down and lying back against the tree.
“Sometimes I get the feeling that my companions think that I’m insane.” He said.
Lone Tooth sat back on his haunches and sighed. “I can appreciate their feelings.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? You think I’m crazy too?” Bolo shot back.
“No Brandybuck. I just think I can understand their point of view. You seem to have a habit of doing things on impulse and worrying about the consequences later. Not the wisest of decisions coming from the de-facto leader of the Druids. But I can sense you do it out of love. Love makes up for many mistakes and errors in judgment. I will stand by your side on this but only as long as the children are of good moral character and abide by the laws of the green.” Lone Tooth said.
Bolo got up and hugged the lion startling the Lone Tooth. “Thank you my friend.”

 

[WizarDru]

The battle begins in mere moments. Dig the awesome battlefield, courtesy of my Dwarven Forge and Scorch's amazing mini/hirst arts skillz:

 

[Zad]

Kayleigh's current block is in the rogue's gallery thread

Wizardru's Story Hour PC and NPC thread

 

[WizarDru]

Kayleigh's current block is in the rogue's gallery thread

Wizardru's Story Hour PC and NPC thread

I've added something to the thread, too. Long overdue, but there at last.

 

[Zad]

Shadows Rise and Shadows Fall - Chapter 8

Shadows Rise and Shadows Fall - Chapter 8

OOC Notes:
Experience for Chapter 7: 3066 (for 21st level chars)
Experience for Chapter 8: 2800 (for 21st level chars)
Experience bonus for Kayleigh: 10 points. (You’ll see.)

Loot:
Nothing of any value.
Oh, except those spellbook thingies. Junk. Probably just sell them for 10 gold.
And 4 silver swords
and 2 +1 silver swords
and the dancing sword

This Week’s Adventure:
The phane was dead. Thorkeld was saved. And the white slaad… well he was a white slaad. But he seemed perfectly content to listen to Valanthe and didn’t start immediately implanting eggs in anyone, so we just moved on without trying to understand it too much.

Frankly it’s thinks like this that make me realize maybe being followed around by a kobolds wasn’t so bad.

Our path to the library lay up the shaft from the phane’s room, and we carefully moved upwards. At the top of the shaft was a small room. The room had four of the ghostly appraritions waiting to ambush us. However thanks to the blessings of Pelor, our weapons still had the power to strike them and we destroyed them quickly.

The next room had a hideous tapestry on the wall. It was crafted from the tanned flesh of gith, demons, mind flayers and other creatures. The eyeballs were still imbedded in the flesy at points, and gave the eerie sensation of watching you. Even as Valanthe moved in carefully to examine the room, she could feel their icy stare, as if the flesh hungered to consume her.

Which it did. There are many things that have changed, and apparently many that haven’t. We still have a penchant for odd things following us around for instance. True, a white slaad is not quite a kobold, but the principle remains. And Valanthe still has a habit of being attacked by furniture. The tapestry reached out and tore at her, oozing a black ichor and its hidden teeth bit hard into her leg. We stepped up quickly and destroyed the wretched creation, but when Dravot attempted to heal the wound, it would not close. The gash was infected with a vile fluid, and could not be readily cured by anything currently at our disposal. Dravot believed he could reverse the effect if he first consecrated the wound, but this could not be done right now. Valanthe simply shrugged and accepted it for now, and we moved on towards the library.

Around the corner was a bizarre sight. The hallway hallway ahead was a tube whose walls were an undulating mass of ectoplasm. At the far end was an oval orifice filled with an impenetrable silver-grey mist. Divine guidance told us this was the way to the library, but none of us much cared to navigate this hallway.

As Valanthe stepped carefully into the tube, it became clear our fears were well founded. The ectoplasm surged and flowed around her, thrusting her down the hallway and through the orifice.

She was thrown onto a floor that was covered in large draconic bones. To one side there was a table of black skin stretched over bone. In the back, curtains of flesh hung in front of two alcoves glowing with a sickly green light. And directly ahead, there was a large mirror. Valanthe felt the mirrors magic clawing at her, tugging, pulling, but she fought it off. Just as the feeling faded, a creature stepped out around the mirror. Vlaakith, Lich Queen of all Githyanki, looked down on Valanthe and sneered. One dessicated hand twitched an absent gesture, and at her command, two ghostly creatures rose up through the floor at each end of the room. Next to each appeared a black flame mage, appearing in a silent black burst of ebony fire.

The Lich Queen looked up from Valanthe, staring into nothing. In one hand she held an ornate silver sword, which she now released. The sword leapt happily into the air of its own, menacing Valanthe. Then the Queen furrowed her cracked brow, and the jeweled crown on her head shimmered with an evil power. There was a brief blur, and Scorch’s head snapped up quickly.

“Someone is playing with the timestream, and it wasn’t me.”

From her position, Valanthe could see Vlaakith now layered with enchantments. The Queen smiled for a moment, then stopped when she realized Valanthe was smiling back.

Over the link, Valanthe said “Now.” As she did, she brought ShadowCut down, not at the Lich Queen, but at the mirror. A scream shot from the sword, and the mirror was blasted to a thousand pieces. The white slaad, it too linked telepathically to Valanthe, teleported the group of us into the room, and into the midst of a very crowded scene.

For when the mirror shattered, those imprisoned inside were released. In addition to the Lich Queen and her four guards, all of us and the white slaad, the mirror released three demons, two succubus, an astral deva and a naked elf.

Vlaakith shook her head and sighed “They always break the mirror.”


**********


“Well I can’t say I’m surprised the Bitch Queen fled,” I said, trying to remain positive. “She really has no reason to stand and fight us, at least until we have that phylactery.”

“True enough,” Dravot agreed. “It’s not as if we expected to find her here anyway.”

“So,” I said, fishing a robe out of my backpack for the naked man “who the heck are you and how did you get here?” I realized that he was a Champion almost as soon as I saw him, but he had barely survived the battle after his release and he was in over his head.

The elf was not embarrassed or self conscious, but he accepted the robe gladly. “My name is Vikorond Stormbow. I was here on a quest to destroy the Lich Queen.”

“Hm… Now what do we do with you? I suspect it would mean your death if you stayed with us.” I looked over at the deva and asked “Can you perhaps send him home?”

The deva, a servant of Cuthbert, had all the sternness you would expect, but was also grateful at his release and very willing to help us. “Aye, I can return him to the Prime.”

“Now wait a minute!” Vikorond objected. “I am not a child to be dismissed.”

The tactical side of me knew immediately that he would be killed if he stayed. The Horrid Wilting the Queen had unleashed during the fight had almost killed him instantly. Vikorond owed his life to Dravot for the healing he cured us all with a moment later. But my heart knew that were I in his shoes (or lack thereof) I would not wish to be so quickly dismissed either.

“Brother, please listen to me, I beg you. These are dark paths we walk, and dread creatures we face. You were fortunate to survive your first and second encounters with Vlaakith. I am not eager for you to try a third. You have felt her power – do you wish to feel it again? But this is not why I ask you to go. You are a Champion, Chosen of Corellian. If you felt you must do this thing, I would not stop you, but I will ask you for the sake of our people. Dark and chaotic times have come to Oerth. Celene’s enemies close from all directions, and the githyanki have invaded the Prime and assaulted our people. Celene needs you. We need every Champion we have to protect our home. I have, with great regret, come here and left Celene without my aid. There are more threats than just the githyanki, so even if we stop them here, others will seek to destroy our kind. Your gifts would go far to guarding our people. I ask you – please – consider this. Celene has been too long without your protection.”

Vikorond paused and thought. He had been imprisoned for over two-score years and surely the desire to return weighed on him more than my words. In time, he nodded saying “You are wise. I shall return.” We offered him what equipment we had handy, and the deva sent him home.

“How did you come to be bound here friend?” Dravot asked the celestial.

“I was captured on a raiding party. Since I refused to bow or be bound, Vlaakith trapped me in the mirror. Mostly to amuse herself I suspect.”

Dravot nodded. “Should you wish to leave, please be careful – travel is harder right now. But if you wish to accompany us, we would surely welcome your aid.”

The deva did not hesitate. “I would be grateful for the chance to see justice done. I will aid you.”

Besides the remains of the bone dragons and the fallen bodies of assorted fiends, the room held little of interest. The Queen’s dancing sword was tucked into Scorch’s Secret Chest; after having been temporarily disenchanted during the fight, the chest seemed to be the safest place for it. There were two glowing portals in the alcoves, and one of them was our path to the library. Hesitantly we stepped through, and were transported to the lower depths of the castle.

We appeared in a large cave. It was strangely comfortable here, not gloomy and oppressing like the palace proper. There were strange wisps and veils of a misty energy that drifted through the cave, whose walls were covered in crystals. We spread out and began our careful move through the cave system.

Valanthe spied two ghostly guards in the next chamber; a minor inconvience by this point. She and I crept into position and then destroyed them both before they could react. After we passed their post, Dravot stopped us. A password was required to enter the magically Forbidden area ahead, but Pelor’s guidance provided the password and the enchantment let us enter.

The walls of the room were lined with scroll niches set into the mortar. Hundreds upon hundreds of bone scroll tubes filled these holes. In the center of the room were three lecterns crafted from red crystal in the shape of a dragon’s claw. A book was clasped in each crystal talon. Dravot announced “This is it. The library.”

Valanthe made a slow circuit of the room searching for the phylactery the red dragon told us would be here. In a hidden crèche in the center of the floor was a sealed metal box. It held a symbol trap which Valanthe deactivated. Inside were several small scraps of paper and flesh with arcane writing. Vlaakith’s phylactery seemed to be at hand. Dravot carefully examined the scraps and the box.

After several moments thought, he said “This isn’t it. We’re meant to think it is, but it is false. A decoy.”

Feh. Either the dragon was lying, ill informed, or the true phylactery had been moved. In any case we had chased through the palace for nothing.

We searched the room thoroughly in case the true phylactery were hidden elsewhere in the chamber, but there was nothing else. The scroll tubes we took, but it would have taken hours to go through them all so we just tucked them away. Then there were only the books.

The claws each held their respective books rigidly. They were not enchanted in any way so there was no ready way to release the tomes. Scorch speculated that if the claws were animated they could then release the books. The white slaad heard this, and waved a clawed hand and the claws all opened in unison and the three books lay exposed.

[OOC Note: It is at this point that I won 5 exp on a bet with Wizardru. Wizardru said “The claws are not magical or mechanical. You can’t remove the books unless you break them, or use Animate Objects or something similar.” I looked back at him and said quickly “White Slaad have Animate Objects at will.” He looked at me and said “You’re making that up.” I bet him 5 exp and won. Considering I bet him earlier that Slaad could cast identify at will, I’m surprised he took the second bet (as if he loses anything).]

One book was so replete with the stench of evil I didn’t need Aethramyr to tell me it was a foul work. Fortunately it did not need to be opened – the cover made it plain. It was The Book of Vile Darkness.

The second book was titled Vlaakith’s Maelific Libram. It was wrapped in the skin of a death slaad with her symbol on the cover. It’s pages contained every spell Scorch had ever heard of from the first valence through the fifth. This alone was enough to make Scorch giddy, but when he realized that the third book contained all spells from the higher valences, I thought he would pass out dead. He just clutched the two books and cackled. After a few minutes, he started talking to them. With any luck, they would keep him from getting curious about the Book of Vile Darkness. I would hardly welcome Scorch perusing it before we were able to destroy it.

As Scorch sped through the tomes, he saw that in addition to spells, the Libram also held instructions for creating the dragon/githyanki half breeds and detailed Vlaakith’s plans to turn all githyanki into such creatures. Something I’m sure would not be welcome by the General or the dragons for that matter.

“So what now?” Aethramyr asked. A fine question. Without the phylactery, there was little likelihood that Vlaakith would stand and fight us, therefore there was no point in trying to destroy her directly. There was the matter of Rackhir and Zara – they were in danger still, so we resolved to attempt to find and rescue them before any harm could come to them.

Aethramyr asked “But how are we going to find them? We do not know where in the palace they are being held.”

I just smiled. “Simplicity itself,” and removed an object from my pack. . 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. Years ago, assassins had used it to find Dravot after he had Chavram’s mark inflicted on him. When the mark moved to Rackhir, the arrow then pointed to him. It took a while to get the arrow to settle down in the astral, but it eventually settled on a direction, mostly pointing back up to the palace proper.

Up we went.

 

[WizarDru]

Dreams of Fire and Hate

It burned.

The irony wasn't lost on him, but he found that his screaming drowned out any appreciation of the fact. Not for the first time, he struggled to be free. The result was no different, bound as he was to the vessel. After a seeming eternity, his body went limp, his hoarse screech finally fading to silence.

A hand, sheathed in some form of armor, clasped his face and turned his head, hard. He felt it smack down on the metal of the vessel. No, not metal. Vitaesis. Bloodstone, from the look of it. It pulsed with energy. His energy? There was no way to know. This was an ancient thing, made by the Suel, perhaps. He had no way to be sure, but he'd guess that it was forged by wizards of the old empire, those who were most pure on this world. The puzzling thing was runes that were from the lexicon of the Storm Lords, those dark elves who Iuz had....

His vision blurred and he heard a ringing sound in his ears. His captor had spoken. Stupid. He should have been listening. They might heal him...but only enough to keep him alive, so that he could experience more pain. Focus. FOCUS! He needed his wits about him. What was he saying...?

"...ask you again, southerner. Which one is it?"

What was he talking about? He should know, shouldn't he? It was so hard to think. His veins, his skin. Oh, how it burned. Wait, wait....focus. Look at the scarred face before him. Who was he? What did he want?

The theorpart.

"Opp...oooppp....", his voice offered only a croaking sound. He hadn't expected this to be so difficult. The man with scars on both sides of his face stood up straight and smiled. He absent-mindedly brushed away his cloak of rich red velvet, so close to his own, and yet representing something so different. "Opportunity...", he finally rasped.

He waited, expecting another blow. It did not fall. The eyes in that face, they examined him, stripping away his soul the way the big one called the Fallen had stripped away his flesh. He could feel his resistance slipping away.

"Who are you ?" came the question.

"I am Lord Justin Aptis, Merchant Prince of the Sea Barons. I...."

"A lie. That's not even the name you arrived with. Again. Who are you?"

"I...I...," now that it came to it, he wasn't sure. It was so hard to think. The blood that they had poured down his throat had made it raw, and it was doing...things in his belly. Awful things. "I...am...Councilman Vesettis Roj of Greyhawk, leader of the moderates."

"Another lie. But closer, now. That was who you let yourself appear to be, to your enemies. I knew you, then. But who are you, really?"

"My...," he gasped. It was so hard, and his whole body was burning. "My. Name. Is. Passus. Krimsos. First. Legate. Of. Reoccupation."

" The truth at last. But they called you something else, didn't they? A special name for your secret followers, yes? I knew then, as I know now. But tell my guests, and quickly."

"I am," he was sucking air like a fish, now. Remembering was so hard. "I was known as the Red Lord. Mine was the power of...fa-fa-fa-fire." There, he had said it. The third act of shame. His order could sentence him for the death penalty, now.

The scarred man laughed, as if Passus had told a joke. Had he been funny? The brute that he only knew as The Fallen grunted, clearly mocking him. The scarred man's guests, if that's what they were, appeared to be a bunch of men in masks and black robes covered in arcane scrollwork. They all stood stock still, waiting for...what?

A voice came from behind one of the masks. An uncharacteristically lilting voice could be heard, a sharp constrast to the hideous demonic face with gilded horns.

"What does he mean, 'Opportunity'?"

" Simple. There are three theorparts, each attuned to a different aspect. Oppression, Opportunity, and Oblique.Those strong enough can make use of their power, but if you are not...compatible with them, it may not end well for you. "

"It certainly didn't end well for him, did it?"

"Any more than it will for you, fool."

Suddenly, the robed man's chest bulged, and then exploded in a shower of flesh and blood. It was the Fallen's clawed fist, clutching the robed man's still-beating heart. How had the armored brute had moved so fast? The Red Lord couldn't say. His senses were all askew to begin with, and he was even less likely to trust them, now.

Why had they killed the wizard? For daring to speak?

The others remained motionless, waiting. The scarred man seemed unperturbed, even as he stared at the pumping organ. The robed men all appeared tense, prepared to act.

"You shouldn't have made your puppet speak. I wouldn't have noticed you, otherwise. Not that I had any intention of letting any of these fools live. I declare this sham of a society dissolved. "

Passus' eyes began to bleed as he heard the scarred man utter a single word of horrible power. Only one of the mages managed to disappear before hearing it fully uttered. The others screamed in pain, as blood erupted from behind their masks. Each one collapsed in a heap, save for the one still held up by the Fallen's meaty fist.

No, not all of them. One still remained, stooped and bent, apparently unnoticed by everyone until now. A hideously ugly woman (was she a hag?) in stained grey robes hobbled forward, cackling ever so slightly. Her eye sockets were open and raw, and it was with a chilling terror that the Red Lord realized that the two small orbs that circled about her head were not Ioun stones, but those missing organs.

"You are a very unpleasant person, Infernus. My master likes very unpleasant people."

" No doubt, hag, no doubt. I have kept my end of the bargain....it is time that the Old One kept his."

And for the first time in a decade, for no particular reason that he could name, the Red Lord began to weep.


* * * * * *

" Oh, CRAP," the Brazen said out loud to no one in particular.
"This certainly can't be good."

 

[Zad]

Shadows Rise and Shadows Fall - Chapter 9

OOC Notes:
Experience is (drum roll please) 9100 for 21st level characters.

Loot
I’ll start working the books soon but for the sake of the curious reader…
Scale mail +5
+4 mighty composite longbow (+4 str) soul feeder
ring of protection +3
ring of sonic resistance, major
Crown of Corruption
Headband of Intellect +6
Bracers of Armor +8
Gloves of dexterity +6
Cloak of Charisma +6
Ring of Wizardry IV
Ring of Protection +4
Robe of eyes
Ring with 12 keys, non magical
35,600gp in various gems, cash, and objets d’arte which were interesting to hear but not important to record
Rod of Wonder
+3/+3 dire flail
+2 chain shirt of fire resistance
+5 heavy steel shield
Wand of restoration (33 charges)
Wand of arcane eye (26 charges)
Cube of frost resistance

This Week’s Adventure:
As Valanthe crept back out into the cavernous passage to the t-intersection, something was just not right. She didn’t hear anything exactly. She didn’t see anything. But something was wrong just the same. The air was moving strangely – no wait, not the air but the wispy white strands. Something was disturbing their flow. To the left there was something very very large, and to the right something smaller moved about cautiously. Just as Valanthe warned us, a blade barrier appeared behind us, cutting us off from retreat into the library.

The being that created it was now revealed in the corridor – its face, once beautiful and statuesque, was melted, cracked and burned. The wings were celestial but there were many feathers that were missing or had fallen out. Under its arm was a pockmarked and rusted brass instrument of some kind, dripping with acid. The fallen angel raised the instrument to its lips, the fangs barely hidden behind them, and sounded a mournful dirge. The music washed over us but had no immediate effect, save to better convey the creature’s sadness and sense of loss.

I was not sure if this fallen angel could be redeemed or not – Dravot offered no plea so we moved in. We knew there was something else very large around the corner, but as one we put spell, blade and arrow into the damned archon. After a flurry of attacks it was inconvenienced but not seriously injured, but in our defense, we were just getting started.

Then the other ambusher surged forward and I caught a glimpse of it – a red dragon certainly, but I’d not seen any before with two heads – another of the Queen’s mutations no doubt. One set of jaws snapped at Dravot while the other bit at the Astral Deva with us. Worse, it was still invisible after the attack. The slaad however began removing the spells protecting the dragon and it popped into full view.

The archon drew a bow and fired several arrows, notably at Bolo, Aethramyr and several at me. The arrows were elf-slayers, but while each of us were hit, we also stood firm in the face of the dark enchantment, and returned the attacks back to the archon.

The dragon heads both reared back and one blasted the corridor with fire. Just as I was thinking I’d never seen such an intense immolation, the other head then did it again. The flames destroyed the fallen angel, and the deva as well. (I remember hoping he could rejoin the hosts now.) I was the only one far enough back to completely avoid the fiery destruction, but it seemed that everyone had managed to survive it.

Unfortunately I then realized I was wrong. A metallic crash ahead drew my eye, and I saw Thorkeld fall to the ground. Flames still danced on his armor and flesh, and there was little remaining of the paladin’s body.

The only small bit of good fortune was that with the fallen angel destroyed, we could now turn our full wrath on the dragon. I for one was planning on making it suffer, and Valanthe had already slipped behind it, her Dragonbane blade in hand. But before we could do anything more, Vlaakith appeared behind the dragon and teleported away with him.

The hallway was empty now, except for the burning remains of the fallen and a feeling of powerlessness.

Dravot debated bringing Thorkeld back immediately, but it would take some minutes to accomplish the miracle. We were sure if we tried that, Vlaakith would certainly see to it that we were interrupted. So we wrapped his body quickly and placed him in the Bag of Holding. In the meantime, he can enjoy the Elysium Fields – he earned that much.

Rather than move towards the prisoners, we revised our plan. Perhaps it was instinct, perhaps it was thoroughness, perhaps just plain stubbornness. Was there something important down here? We didn’t know, but we started moving through the caverns methodically, determined to find the phylactery. Without it, we had nothing and the lich queen would continue to attack and run.

One side passage had a magical forbiddance protecting it, but the spell was so confounded by the enigmatic Valanthe, and simply gave up trying to affect her. We suppressed the effect and moved past it. Farther down was a large cavern. Stalagmites and stalagtites dotted the floor and ceiling, and there was a large central pillar of rock rising up nearly to the ceiling. Strands of rock shot off from the pillar in various directions in a way that could form only on the astral. But in the back of the cavern was a brightly glowing sphere, scintillating through every color. Occasionally a bit of the floating white webbing would brush the sphere and burst into flames.

Anything that warranted being protected by a spell of that power was surely going to be of interest to us. And that’s as far as I got before the attack.

The rock tendrils were not rock, and lashed into sudden and violent life. In an instant they were all speeding towards our group in the cavern mouth. The tentacles lashed at each of us, and I felt some of my strength fall away as it hit and I wasn’t the only one. Then, on the column of rock, the eye opened.

A roper. A roper bigger than any I’ve heard tell of. A looming, massive thing of a roper. It began to laugh.

“Hello, little insects.”

Then it cut its laughter short, and disappeared. It wasn’t invisible – I could have seen it if it had been. No, it was somehow camoflauged – hiding in the cavern. It’s ludicrous for something that large to just hide but that’s what it did, and well. Bolo suspected psionics were at work here.

A massive psionic roper. I sighed. I would have been gravely concerned, except that it called us insects. Nothing that ever did that lived very long.

I tried the old standby of Glitterdust, but the magic failed to affect the creature. Then I did the next obvious thing – I retreated. Those tentacles could quickly render us unable to move, or worse yet fling us into the prismatic sphere, so I moved back out of what I hoped was its range. The rest of the party quickly followed behind me, dropping a few destructive spells as they did. Then it reappeared, and it’s mudlike exterior hardened to look like granite, and then it disappeared again. But this time I followed it as it shifted slightly in the cavern, and I fired a volley of arrows at it. The roper howled and sweared to destroy us. True, it was unoriginal, but this thing might just do it unless we were smart.

The roper was really only half our worries. Vlaakith was out there, watching somewhere. Her and that dragon. Either one joining the fight would be a problem, and both could be fatal. Aethramyr hovered close to me to protect me, and used a quick spell on me; I wasn’t sure what it was but I’d learn later. We both knew I would need to attack that twisted roper from a distance, and he was going to make sure I got the chance to do it.

Bolo wanted to know what this creature was guarding, and asked Scorch if the sphere would extend into the ground below. Scorch said it did not, and Bolo’s outline wavered and he bent to the sleek form of a bulette and began digging under the cavern floor heading for the sphere. In no time he nosed up out of the ground and saw a jet black sarcophagus. It had no lid nor seam, just an inset carving of a circle on the top. As he got close, another warding spell detonated but Bolo resisted the compulsion to leave. Bolo called to Valanthe, who scurried down the tunnel he’d left and she examined the coffin carefully. The inscribed circle matched the arc fragment we had found earlier – a disassembled key of some kind, but we didn’t have the rest. Bolo tried to breach the sarcophagus but no spell or weapon seemed to make any impact on the black material. It was a jet black embodiment of protection that would not open by force of arms or spellcraft. Valanthe began working to deceive the coffin into giving up its prize, her unspoken hope the same as ours – that the phylactery lie inside.

So the roper was huge and powerful and psionic, but not infallible. It could not reach me down the hall, and could not fit out of the cavern. It’s psionics were powerful and it lashed out at me with concussive force several times, but I had wisely cast a mirror image and he had little luck finding the real me. But my illusory duplicates were being destroyed quickly, and it was a close thing. For my part, I was moving so quickly as to begin to blur firing arrow after arrow at the roper. Once I lost track of it as he tried to hide, but for the most part I was able to find my target, and Scorch continued to blanket the cavern with destructive spells. Then the roper re-appeared and everyone was waiting for it – Scorch disintegrated a massive chunk of the ancient beast, and Dravot put up a blade barrier in a cylinder around it, to prevent it from moving to far without suffering the whirling blades.

For a brief moment, I wondered if I could convince this unlikely ally of the githyanki that it would be better served to leave. “I’m surprised,” I said “a creature so intelligent and powerful could be so readily duped. Did the Queen tell you of us?”

It sneered back “She told me everything of you, Kayleigh.”

I laughed. “Everything? Did she really? Are you sure? Perhaps she deceived you so you would stand and fight for her, not realizing the peril.”

It was intrigued, if only for a moment. “Are you making a counter offer?”

I sighed. I didn’t think it’d be possible to bribe this creature, and the conversation seemed at a dead end. Aethramyr seemed to think so too, as he shouted “How about we offer you a quick death?”

Meanwhile behind us, my fears manifested. Vlaakith came flying around the corne, and I became glad for Aethramyr’s protection. The Queen was there, but the roper had to be dealt with and I needed to focus on it. The Queen did her level best to stop me however, and fired a black ray at me but it just hit with no effect.

The horrid wilting that followed was going to be somewhat more painful. As the spell blanketed the hallway, I felt far less pain from it than I expected as I braced for it. But as I saw him convulse from the magic, I realized that my relief was bought at the price of Aethramyr’s suffering – he had cast Shield Other and took my wounds on himself.

But there was good news – Valanthe had proven to be more creative than those that built the unbreachable sarcophagus. It was nothing short of a miracle of skill and cunning but she had convinced it to open and inside was an adamantium box. She left Bolo to retrieve it and quickly came out the tunnel.

Her pet slaad had been dropping multiple fireballs into the cavern, in the hopes of wearing down the roper. Normally vulnerable, this roper had shielded himself from fire but that defense was running out and he was looking pressed.

“Insects indeed,” I said. And I fired again. The roper just whimpered and slumped, the tentacles flailing once and then collapsing to the floor. An ignominious death for something so old, but I’ve rarely seen death be gracious.

Everyone else had been pressing the attack on the Queen, and now we attacked with renewed vigor. Valanthe snatched the crown from her head, and the Queen shrieked in outrage. She yelled to the slaad “Dulak, serve your true Queen.”

“Uh oh,” Valanthe said. “He broke contact with me. I think she has control of him now.”

One step forward, one step back. I sighed again. The slaad would have to wait. I readied a full set of four arrows on my string and let them fly but in my haste overpulled and the round was wasted as well as the spell I’d cast to make it strike true.

It was time for a new approach. It was something Dravot and I had discussed as a tactical option, and it was time to try it. Dravot erected an anti-magic field and with the deadened zone around him, he stepped close and grabbed on to Vlaakith. Now she was vulnerable, denied of enchantments and the means to escape. The only question was could we harm her under the same conditions? I wasn’t sure of the answer, but I knew Vlaakith would be terrified of it, and she was. She was in a bad way and she knew it. She never truly had control of this situation but she had lost quite any semblance of it now, and the frenzy was evident on her face as she struggled to break free of Dravot’s grasp. The strength of undeath was still with her and she wrenched free of Dravot, and wasting no further time she retreated down the hall at amazing speed.

No one was foolish enough to even consider chasing her. What had we gained? Time. Perhaps the most precious thing right now. Bolo emerged from the tunnel with the adamantium box, and Dravot looked at it carefully. After a moment he looked up and nodded.

This was it. They phylactery.

Without a word, Dravot set the box on the cavern floor and we all took a step back as Aethramyr hefted Shatterspike. He brought the blade down in a powerful overhead swing and sparks erupted as it struck the box. Cracks radiated throughout the metal where it was struck.

A second swing. Time seemed to crawl as he brought the blue crystal blade down.

Sparks erupted again, and chunks of adamantium exploded outward. Dust and bits of skin and parchment burst upward in a mushroom cloud, bursting into flame as they rose. The box suddenly aged as if a thousand years passed in a second.

From behind us, there was a huge rush of air as Vlaakith, the Lich Queen of the Githyanki, exploded into fragments of bone and dead skin and hatred.

We turned the corner moving towards her, and saw a new red dragon, freshly gated in apparently. It was charging down the hallway towards us, and then started slowing. Slower. Slower. Stopping. It cocked its head to the side.

And it smiled. It charged back into the room at the far end of the hall, and we followed and watched as it destroyed the two-headed aberration. It was an intense battle but the outcome was never really in doubt and soon the red was standing over the limp body of the offensive mutation.

After it let the second broken neck of its foe fall from its mouth, the dragon moved towards what was left of Vlaakith’s body, staring at us the entire time. The staff symbolizing the githyanki alliance with the reds lay on the floor next to the remains of the Lich Queen. We were not surprised the dragon wanted it and without any actual discussion we seemed to all tacitly agree to let the wyrm take it, provided that was all it went after.

Without taking its eyes off us, it picked up the staff in a large foreclaw, and after being sure we were not acting to stop it, it snapped the staff quickly and let the pieces fall. There was a brief flash but nothing else to suggest the true power the staff held. I’m not thrilled at helping the reds – certainly we owe them no favors. But perhaps they owe us one now.

There was still a great deal to do – search the palace, release the prisoners, and put and end to the capture of the elven souls. But for practical purposes, it was over. Vlaakith was thrown down, and the githyanki were freed from tyranny. I can only hope this time they chose to remain free rather than subject themselves to a new tyrant.

 

[Argent Silvermage]

Bolo; Transformations.

The queen of the Gith was destroyed and the staff ruined. Val, Scorch and Keyleigh were going over the treasure left behind and Aethramyr, Dravot and Zira were standing guard. Bolo looked around at the devastation and wondered if they were actualy finished here. He needed to get back to his new charges and find a way to hatch them when their time is due. He had named the Solstice and Equinox and his "children" were never far from his mind.
It was a moment or two before he felt the energy boil up within him. He glowed a golden green color and felt an uncontrolable shift in his form. It was similar to what had happened at the First Ash but stronger and far more intimate. The others didn't even seem to notice so caught up in their own activities but soon Zira looked over at the druid and gasped.
"Pelor bless me! Bolo are you well? I have not seen you change like this before. You seem different."
The Brandybuck stood looking into a mirror he had removed from his haversack. (Trying not to disturb Thorkeld's body too much) His ears were no longer exactly elven and his body seemed to be more alluring. There was also a look in his eyes as if he had glimpsed creation and returned with a piece of it.
"Oh yes. I'm wonderful. I've just gone through another evolutionary step towards my Feydom. But we'll speak more of this later. we need to return Thorkeld and return home."

Bolo had much to attend to. His eggs, The Lone Tooth (that name had to change. he was no longer alone.) and rebuilding his beloved druidic circle.

 

[Zad]

Shadows Rise and Shadows Fall - Chapter 10

Shadows Rise and Shadows Fall - Chapter 10

OOC notes:
21st level characters get 2500xp
22nd get 2000xp

Loot:
Erm… there was rather a lot. If you’re a player, it’s posted to our boards. If you’re a story hour reader, you probably don’t want to see it all. Let’s just say it was a pretty big pile.

Also, the entire party has received some bonuses due to the experience within the dead god after following the small white light. Everyone received the following permanent adjustments: +1 wisdom, +2 insight bonus to initiative, +4 to saves vs death magic.

This Week’s Adventure:
We explored the rest of the caverns deep within the dead god. At one point two half-dragon gith attacked us and we broke them in half without breaking stride. It was probably a far kinder fate than they would have received from the githyanki. As we entered one cave, we spotted a small mote of white light that bounced and bobbled in the air. It seemed to beckon us, then floated off down another passageway. We followed it and it weaved down the tunnel and through another room filled with crystal stalagtites and stalagmites and finally into a large crack in the wall. The crack lead to a dead end, but as Valanthe moved down to examine the area, she suddenly froze and a nimbus of blue light surrounded her. After a moment it faded, she said she felt a presence flow through her mind. It was overpowering and yet invigorating. Thoughts and memories poured into her, images of places never gone and races she had never seen. It took her some time to recover her wits after the connection faded.

Dravot stepped into the niche to see if the same thing happened, and it did. He too was flooded with memories of what we assumed was the dead god. Some of the memories were from millenia ago, but others were quite recent, showing the lich queen and her activities. In order to grasp more of the tangle of memories, we each stepped to the end of the passage in turn and we each were bombarded with different images and rememberances.

We spent some minutes each discussing what we had seen, specifically about the lich queen. Between us all we were able to begin to piece together parts of the story. The lich queen had been using wishes to awaken parts of the dead god. (Scorch recognized the telltale signs of the powerful spell.) She was using the energy contained within the stolen souls of elves to power the magic. Her reasons were not entirely clear but it seemed she wanted to steal the dead god’s power or consume it somehow to become deific herself. Oddly she did not keep many of the elven souls here – or any others. Most were sent elsewhere. But the ones she used were weakened by her magic, and then released. When they are released they did not go on to Arborea, but went somewhere different, not on the astral.

It was very disturbing. Freeing the souls might prove more difficult than I had hoped.

We moved back upstairs, generally working our way towards where Rackhir and Zara were being held. The path took us into one room quite near the big ectoplasmic hallway where we first encountered the queen. The room was largish and circular with three black columns rising up to the ceiling. Around the edge was an obsidian shelf set into the walls, with twelve chests lining the room. Each chest was ornate and completely disctinct, most in a rather gruesome way. In the center was a protective circle, and encased inside was a dretch. It was a filthy, deformed creature, and it hissed and spat as it begged to be released.

It promised us riches, it promised us information. It said it would tell us where the phylactery was, so that we could defeat the lich queen. Anything, as long as we would release it.

I was amused by this creature. It was quite a sniveling little thing, but it had no idea that we had already destroyed the lich queen. I asked it various questions, trying to see how much it really knew. I asked it to tell us what was in one of the chests and then if it was true, we might see that we could trust it and consider further deals.

While this was happening, Valanthe was carefully checking one of the chests for traps. (It was made of hardened drider silk and seemed quite beautiful until you got close and saw that there were teeth and eyes imbedded in the webbing and the legs were pieces of drider legs.) Valanthe was examining the lock when she realized that we had a ring of twelve keys from the lich queen and she pulled out the keys and began flipping through them.

I was waiting for this, and watched the dretch carefully to see the reaction. When it saw the ring of keys, it realized where they had come from. It hissed and shouted, and in a blurred moment there was a marilith in the protective circle instead. I wasn’t expecting this but it hardly seemed to make much difference, save to lower the chances of the creature being freed. She shouted and screeched and crashed wildly against the barrier, pausing for moments to draw one of her blades slowly across her body, the blood thrilling her and incensing her further.

So I was still somewhat amused until we noticed the columns were beginning to move ever so slowly. My amusement vanished when Bolo stated that it was a black pudding, and seemed to have been held in stasis until a chest was opened. Then the trap became clear – the pudding would be released and destroy the protective circle etched on the floor, freeing the marilith. Quite clever actually. Based on the amount of pudding that was expanding, it was not unlikely that it would destroy all the treasure as well.

Aethramyr and I took positions on opposite sides of the marilith since there was little we could do to the pudding. Bolo unleashed a fiery eruption across the pudding, and there was a lot of hissing and black acrid smoke. The pudding was weakened by this, so Dravot repeated the conflagration. The fires overwhelmed the pudding and it dissolved into puddles on the floor doing no further damage.

The marilith was outraged at this, and began shouting a torrent of colorful curses in some infernal language. Dravot gave a slight bow at the waist, then brought up his holy symbol and called on Pelor’s light to banish the demon. There was a great light, and the marilith was gone.

With that taken care of, we methodically sorted through the chests. They contained a wide variety of treasures – from gems and coins to pickled illithid brains and black hearts. It was quite a find and we carefully packed it all up for our next trip to Fuvex’s shop.

Some of the items were particularly unusual. One chest held a few vials of a milky grey fluid. Scorch carefully examined it, and was puzzled at first. But after some time he said that it was ectoplasmic resin, a substance he’d heard of more as a theory than anything else. It was the psychic residue of creatures slain on the astral plane. A wizard could use this to craft weapon with their own intelligence and personality.

Another chest held eight ornate flasks. There was a sparkling golden liquid in each one. Again, it confounded the casual eye. But after Scorch spent some time looking and smelling, he placed the vial in the chest and closed it carefully and handed the entire thing to me.

“I think you better take care of this. It’s called ‘Death’s Ichor’. It is a sort of distilled soul, boiled down to the core essence and energy. This is all that remains of some of the elven souls that were stolen. This is what the lich queen used to cast her wish spells with.”

“Can we release the souls?” I asked.

Scorch shook his head. “They’ve been… purged of individuality, or perhaps ‘reduced down’ is a better description. In this form, there’s nothing we can do for them.”

“Then I’ll have to take it to a higher power,” I whispered, and carefully stored the chest.

Once we had taken the spoils of war, we moved out of the room. On some level I was hesitant; were we taking treasure from a fallen foe, or looting the githyanki national treasury? I wasn’t entirely sure, but this seemed to be more of the personal property of the lich queen, and if there was one thing I was sure of, it was that doing the right thing could be a very expensive proposition. The funds required to finance our small group could keep a large army in the field for years. If we were to continue protecting what was dear to us, then treasure would be required. It is, I suppose, simply the way things work.

Two rooms away, we found the prisoners and more. In a circular room, a mind flayer writhed on the floor in agony. Around it, eight githyanki zombies stared at it as it screamed and spasmed, enchanted by some kind of torture spell. Aethramyr was not indifferent to the suffering, and in one short stroke put the illithid out of its misery. But chained to the wall were Rackhir and Zara. Rackhir was unconscious but Zara was awake. He nodded to his sister but had little else to say. Given it was the first time he’d seen her face to face in years, I was expecting something more emotional, but he seemed quite stoic aobut the whole thing, as if he had just been waiting patiently for a ship to arrive.

Rackhir was still very much Rackhir, which is to say he was much more comfortable once we put a weapon in his hand. Of course in his position, I suppose I’d be the same.

The two of them knew little of the palace layout but did mention a throne room that might have something to do with something, and so we went down to find it. As we came out of the shaft in the phane’s room, there was an unsettling presence. That presence soon made itself manifest and we were quickly surrounded by black flame warlocks and the large ghostly creatures we’d fought before. They were crowding into the room, but not attacking. They were just staring, largely at Valanthe.

Valanthe shuddered with a chill, and slowly brought out the Crown of Corruption, snatched from the lich queen’s head before she fell. All the black eyes followed the crown, apparently driven by its call.

In retrospect, I suppose I hadn’t really expected to keep it. With something so manifestly evil, the only thing you can do is destroy it. And it was becoming clear that we needed to do that quickly. The crown however was no mean item, and even Shatterspike did not make a dent in it. But something evil can be countered by a greater good, and Dravot brought up the Light of Reason. Golden light poured out of the lantern and the crown hissed and nearly screamed as the metal melted away. It dissolved into pools of black slag on the floor, the eyes floating and slowly going dark as the evil poured out like so much foul water. As the crown dissolved, so too did the undead creatures it had spawned. The warlocks were all consumed in black flame, while the ghosts just faded quietly away.

But it was not without cost. The lantern, once bright and steadfast, now seemed dimmed. The holy protection that it had previoiusly extended was now gone and it simply burned like any other lantern. Dravot was not concerned – it could be recharged again, and he had planned to do so soon anyway.

Then suddenly something very welcome came – silence. The maddening screams and whispers of the voices that filled the palace finally went quiet, given peace in the destruction of the queen and crown.

We found the throne room. It was dominated by four obsidian pillars and a circle of blood on the floor. It was some kind of apparatus, inlaid with arcane symbols. It was this thing that would send souls flying across the planes to some other destination. Scorch spent nearly half an hour examining every detail about the wicked thing. What was surprising was not the function but the target. Most of the souls were being sent to Thanatos – a layer of the abyss. But some of them, perhaps one in five, were being directed elsewhere. Scorch could not be sure where without consulting charts and maps, but it was a layer of the abyss.

Once Scorch had all the notes he needed, we destroyed the device. It was quite unremarkable given how much trouble it had been.

While Scorch had been fiddling, we had looked out the palace windows. We could see a battle being fought across the outpost. It was hard to gauge sides or strength, but it the odds did seem to be heavy in one direction. We assumed this was the General elminiating any further resistance in the city. At this point we felt our task was done, and we elected to wait in the throne room before returning to our own plane. After an hour, a blond tiefling entered, flanked by two dwarves. One was half demon, and the other half angel. It was an odd group to be sure. She entered the throne room carefully – she was looking for us but not entirely sure what to make of us or if we’d be violent towards her.

“So… ah… did you kill the Lich Queen?” she asked carefully.

“And you are?” I questioned back.

“The General sent me,” she responded.

“Why didn’t the General come himself?” Scorch asked.

“Well…” her reply was slow in coming, and she was clearly spending time trying to craft it well. “… he said that you were a bit… unstable. Well, perhaps more like ‘unpredictable’. I mean if you were unstable I wouldn’t have taken the money to come in here now would I?”

Good enough for me. “Yes, Vlaakith is dead.”

She seemed relieved but still had the look of someone dealing with a poisonous snake. “Ah, good. Tell me about it,” and she took out a small book and a pen.

We exchanced puzzled glances between ourselves. The thing about bards is if you don’t give them any information, they’re just going to make something up anyway, and you probably won’t like it. Bolo quickly provided the details of the assault and battle and she made notes along the way. After she had heard the tale, we were essentially done here.

“Well, we have done what we came here to do,” I told her. “But please carry this back to the General: We fully expect all githyanki troops to be removed from the Prime and the war against the Prime to stop immediately. We are confident the General will do this for two reasons. First because I believe he is a man of his word. Second, because if he does not, we will kill those troops, and then return to Tu’narath and destroy this city and every githyanki in it.” I made sure to smile as I finished.

She nodded warily as she noted that down, starting to see why the General thought we were unstable. “The General also said you are welcome to take your ship with you. I’m not sure what you did to the engines but it’s of little use to him now.

We beamed in response to that – we quite liked the ship as a means of getting about. And with that we left the Palace of Whispers (or not apparently) and floated across the sky to our ship. No one opposed us – indeed most seemed to go out of their way to avoid us or pretend not to notice us. Once at our ship, Scorch was able to open a gate and we glided back on to the Prime.

Scorch reported no difficulty in forming the gate, but as we passed through, we each felt a chilling feeling in our bones like the touch of the grave. So profound was it that the air over the Land of Black Ice seemed warm by comparison.

We brought the ship in over the grove and landed without much fuss. And as Rackhir was reunited with his wife, I saw genuine emotion on his face. Not particularly strong, but it was there all the same. Truly he had earned some peace. With luck he’d find it here, with his wife and children, and the occasional attack from extradimensional beings.

Aethramyr contacted Lord Gelban who confirmed that the githyanki were in full retreat from the Prime. Also the reds have also retreated from the Prime, with one exception: Infernus. He was sighted by an agent of the Cupric who witnessed Infernus murder all that remained of the Horned Society. Lord Gelban also knows that Infernus has the Red Lord under his power, and the dragons believe Infernus has control of one of the theerparts.

Then I heard a scream. It was Bolo. He came running into the house we were in shouting “They’re gone! They’re gone!”

What was gone? The eggs. The githyanki eggs. I wasn’t sure what he was planning for them but I was sure the idea was not fully thought out. But now it seems the eggs were gone.

Ravenna calmly looked at him. “The githyanki hunting party came to claim them and the silver swords from the battle here. They looked very determined and we did not give them much resistance.”

Bolo looked back at Ravenna and blinked, unsure what to say. And then he just went off with a lost look on his face.

With things here calm, I had matters of my own to attend to. It’s not that I feel unwelcome in this grove, but at the same time I always feel like an outsider. And since I had some pressing matters of my own, this was a good time to tend to them.

I took Dravot aside and said “Earlier you said you had the spell to open a gate also?”

Dravot nodded.

“I would ask you a favor then. Can you open a gate to Arborea?”

 

[Zad]

I’ve never been to Arborea. I can’t even recall having read much about it, so I’m not sure what I was expecting. I suppose I thought it would be a lush, natural forest. Whatever I was expecting, this wasn’t it.

The landscape before me was a white sandy expanse of desert, with hardly anything in sight save more sand. After some looking I did make out a tower in the distance, and so I went that direction since it was as good as any. As I drew closer I could see that the tower was made for creatures much bigger than elfkind and it was little more than a ruin sticking up from the sand at an angle. I was considering checking inside, but through a window I made out the profile of a large insect apparently waiting for people to do just that.

From the tower I could see other ruins farther off, and moved towards them. It was some kind of fallen city big enough for giants. The stone faces were worn smooth by the constant winds and I could make out the high tower of what was probably once a castle, now half buried in the sand.

Before I went further, a large gust of wind blew by, knocking me over. It swirled into a vortex ahead of me and eventually resolved into a humanoid shape. The figure was vaguely elven with a greenish tint to the skin. He stood before me in just simple green pants, a gold necklace and tiara his only other attire. But whatever he was, the wind did not seem to touch him.

I stood up and dusted myself off, and greeted him. He was quite cordial, and downright helpful. “Well hello traveler. Have you come to plumb the secrets of the lost giants?”

I looked back at him confused. “What giants?”

“Why the giants that were here of course. You came to see what happened to the forest here, did you not?”

“Well, no actually I didn’t. I came to speak to one of the celestial host of Corellian about a matter of elven souls. But I don’t seem to have arrived where I expected to.”

“Ahhhh no not at all. You are on the wrong layer you see. The planes are complex things, my dear. You need to go to Arvendor. There you will find Corellian’s Court.”

I smiled, glad to have some guidance in this wasteland. “And could I perhaps impose upon you to tell me how to get to Arvendor?” I made a mental note to pay more attention to this “layer” business – apparently it makes all the difference.

He smiled back. “I suppose we can set this to rights. I can take you there easily enough my dear.” I took his offered hand and there was a rush of divine power. In a moment we were standing in the lush, almost savage forest I had imagined. Moments after we arrived, a storm rolled in from the ocean and rain started pouring down on the greenery.

“You are very kind to help a lost elf girl on her way,” I said. “Can I perhaps impose on you yet a bit more to point me towards the Court that I may continue my journey?”

Rather than answer, he said “Forgive my asking but I might better help you find someone if I knew why you came to Arborea.”

“No forgiveness is needed – you have been very helpful and there is no wrong in asking. I have with me the souls of some elves. I’m not sure how much you are aware of events on the Prime, but many elven souls were stolen by the githyanki. I’ve helped put a stop to that business, and in doing so recovered these distilled souls from the lich queen’s palace. In their current state, they cannot be returned to their rightful destiny, and I was hoping one of the host might be able to do more for them.”

The creature was now standing a bit straighter, his manner less at ease, more serious. “I must tell you that the hosts will not speak to you, Kayleigh, now that I know who you are. I cannot explain why.”

I just stood there, a bit shocked. I hadn’t really expected Corellian himself to appear before me and sing my praises, but I hadn’t expected to be simply ignored either. After a moment, I began to realize it was not me so much as the current state of celestial and fiendish affairs. We had been told already that the celestials had withdrawn in many ways, and this was surely just another ramification of the same events. But I was surprised to find a part of me felt slighted all the same.

Some of this must have flashed across my face and my guide tried to explain. “It would violate certain agreements. I can tell you that there are powerful entitites within the host that are aware of this transference but we are forbidden from acting in certain capacities. I cannot say more.”

For a moment I wasn’t sure if there was a hint there for me. I’m not forbidden from acting in any capacity I chose. Was there an implication that I was supposed to take a certain action?

I decided to try another tack. “But the interdiction has violated agreements, and nobody seems to be worried about that.”

“Oh not so. Retaliation has been made and penalties have been assessed. But direct intervention would harm us more than them. Take this rock – “ and he picked up a stone. “It has good heft, but it’s brittle. Now let’s say we make an agreement you and I. We agree to leave it on the ground. But I break that agreement and take the rock and threaten to throw it. Our direct involvement would be problematic. Or if you like, imagine a giant burning hand trying to pick up an ant. Such is the level of power we discuss.”

I just stared back at him, confused and unsatisfied. I understood his point, I just didn’t care for it. He tried again to convince me. “I must choose my words carefully for fear of violating any agreements, or any promises that have been kept. You, and your companions, are in many ways agents of divine will. Sometimes directly, and sometimes more subtly. But events transpire that are invisible to you but still aid in your cause. You do have allies. Not just the dragons but others as well. Some of them are not so puissant but who’s influence is great. The saints – both Dravot and the one you freed – work to your aid. As does the ghost who walks with your shadow friend.”

With that he seemed to remember something and went off on a new direction. “Beware on the shadow plane. There have been more battles. Sceadutine still stands but its influence barely goes beyond its walls now.” But then he returned to his original thought. “We are desperately working to avoid a full scale celestial war. We do not wish this to come to pass, but if Rauxes is not contained, it may come to that. If that happens, it will be another Flight of Fiends, but this time with celestials and fiends battling across the Prime.”

“You should be wary. The enemy is not only aware of you now, but they actively move against you.”

“What else is new.” I thought. If the creature knew, he just went on unfazed.

“They can no longer place you in a relatively small box and assume you are only a threat when you are present. You’ve been a little too proactive lately.” I couldn’t help smile at that. It’s hard to feel bad about that kind of thing after all.

“I skirt danger by telling you this: the master of thanatos ties together much. However he is not your real enemy. Rather, he is the one who is capturing elven souls but he is not the one who facilitates it. He is the one the hosts are moving against, slowly, but unless he breaches Celenian soil or the ancient holies of Highfolk, or violates certain fields in the desert that were once elven lands, Corellian cannot move against him. Two wrongs will not make a right.”

It was at this moment that I was struck by a sudden realization: while many powerful beings were trying to tell me something without telling me something, so far the clearest of them to follow was Olidamarra. This may signal the end of the universe as we know it.

“I can’t say I completely understand why the host won’t speak to me. But that leaves me without a means to help these poor souls I brought with me. Is there anyone else who can help them? Someone who will speak with me?”

He paused briefly and then said “I can take them to beings who can help them if you wish.”

I handed him the chest, hoping I was doing the right thing. “Thank you. I hope you can bring them the peace that I cannot.” And with that I started looking around a bit, wondering what I should do next. I hadn’t exactly planned out a way to get back home – I was hoping that one of the celestials would be able to help. He seemed to realize the predicament and asked “Did you have a way to return to your own plane?”

I looked down “Well, no… not as such. I had hoped that one of the host might be able to help me there as well.”

“Ah I see,” he answered, and smiled slightly. “Well I suppose I can help you there as well. Brace yourself…”

The wind blew up once again, and I felt the chilling cold of passing through the Interdiction again, and arrived many miles south of the Land of Black Ice. I could see one of the ruined vitaesis towers that dotted the former border to tell me where I was. But it wasn’t where I wanted to be – I then realized that perhaps I should have asked for an arrivial within Celene. Two teleports eliminated the omission however, and I was soon within the palace in Celene.

I was pleased and relieved to see the palace was again bristling with pleasant activity. The hallmarks of war were still around but the court was largely returning to its usual business and pleasure. A page found me before I could find her, and showed me to the Queen, who was still handling matters of state in the Library-turned-War-Room.

The Queen seemed very pleased to see me. “We take it your mission was successful given that the githyanki are retreating?”

I curtsied and she waved me up. “Yes Your Majesty. The Lich Queen Vlaakith is destroyed. I believe the githyanki general will keep his promise and remove his troops, knowing full well what we will do if he does not.”

The Queen was practially beaming with delight. “Excellent. Celene owes you and all your friends a debt. When will they be returning for the celebration?”

“Celebration, Majesty?” I asked.

“Yes, to celebrate your victory and offer our thanks to you all. I will arrange it at whatever time you are able to return here, which will I’m sure be very soon yes?” The last was not a question so much as an insistence.

“Of course Your Majesty,” I smiled. “Is there anything else of note happening?”

“No,” she said. “We have lost track of Chavram and his gnoll army, but otherwise there is little of note.”

“Ah, I believe he is traveling with his army via the Underdark, but I do not know his destionation,” I replied casually. I must admit I had forgotten that might be significant. “Oh but I do have a question Majesty. Who currently rules Thanatos in the Abyss?”

Then a voice hissed out behind me and a chill filled me. “Thanatos? Difficult to say.” I whipped around and saw a white slaad standing in the throne room, carrying a staff.

There was a time when I would have fired a full volley of arrows before anyone could have stopped me. However as my skills have grown and my reactions gotten ever faster, I’ve started to be more willing to hesitate, knowing I could still defend myself and in this case my Queen. But my posture had changed and I was clearly ready for battle, my fingertips lightly falling on feathered shafts.

But the if the Queen knew how close I was to attacking, she did not show it in her casual reaction. “Be at ease, my dear. He is a mercenary under our employ. We have realized that our extra-planar intelligence has been lacking of late, and so we have hired Durth to aid us.”

I looked carefully at the Queen, still mindful of the slaad. “She might have told me that sooner,” I thought. “Lucky I didn’t fill him with arrows. Of course the he probably has his reflection magic activated but still…”

The slaad seemed calm, but I suspect he was not relishing the notion of a duel with me any more than I was. I was mistrustful but if it was the Queen’s will, then so be it. “So then, tell me Durth – who rules Thanatos?”

The slaad stroked his chin a moment. “It is difficult to follow. Perhaps the drow. Perhaps others. There are also other rumors that the original ruler has returned.”

I had a hunch what the answer was and was waiting to hear the words. “And that would be?”

“Orcus.”

I should win a prize for that. Actually, wait, no. It was too easy.

The Queen had no further need of me so I excused myself to return home and get some rest. It had been quite the long day.