Olgar Shiverstone said:
Careful. I might have to start bugging Wulf to post the Bastion of Broken Souls update to his story hour.
Consider the fact that I never posted that update my review of Bastion of Broken Souls.
So now let's update this one.
The party searched in vain for the lich, almost covering the whole dungeon again, using detect evil and detect undead (at will, by the paladin/Hunter of the Dead) and even their wand of detect secret doors.
But Devron, still invisible and flying, was off to retrieve his helm. (You spend a couple thousand years in a magical prison, you're really not gonna gamble with combat as soon as you get free.)
Strangely, the paladin receives a sending from someone (he senses) is named "Alevolenz." They have seen this name before: they know that Alevolenz is a drow noble of some kind.
"Fools! While you waste time in Barakus, the true prize is ours! Twain will burn tonite!"
Twain is one of the three towns about 60 miles away, in the "next" adventure, Vault of Larin Karr.
The ploy was too obvious to fool even this group of players. "Twain? We better get to Endhome, then."
You may recall that the party had travelled to Barakus by way of the Wizard's Academy-- teleport. As it was, they had no quick way to get back to Endhome except for the paladin to summon his warhorse. He took the gnome sorcerer with him and away they flew, while the rest of the group walked back as quickly as they could.
Just as they were nearing Endhome, the paladin saw a huge storm of meteors raining down onto Endhome. The party assumed it was the work of the lich; they were at once infuriated and yet incredibly terrified of his power.
The dastardly deed was actually the work of the drow, who had launched their attack on Endhome, in pursuit of Devron’s Helm of Power.
With renewed vigor the paladin spurred his horse towards Endhome and the growing flames on the horizon. Night fell as they neared the city; and soon they passed a scurvy looking group of knaves leading a covered wagon out of town. The knaves warned the paladin that Endhome was on fire, and under attack, and they might as well just turn around.
“How big is the wagon?” the paladin asked. “Big enough to hold a coffin?”
Ok, so his instincts this time were pretty good. One detect undead later and suddenly the sorcerer was blasting the wagon to pieces with a fireball. Only one of the knaves (the leader of the wererats, Tousice) escaped. All of his fellow rats were killed; he ran off into the night yelling, “This ain’t my fight!”
The remains of the Pulanti family—the count, his wife, and their son—burst from their coffins, turned into bats, and escaped into the night.
The paladin and the sorcerer searched the wagon (after sprinkling holy water on the coffins…) and found a lockbox. The box had a bit of coin in it and a letter, which read:
To His Eminence Count Thelonius Pulanti:
Greetings from Alevolenz of House Vrama, of the mighty Ul-Drakkan:
In order to forestall any hostilities between us, be advised that Endhome will be destroyed in two days hence. We offer you the City of Barakus, which we have now cleared of all inhabitants, including its former lord. If you leave for Barakus immediately, you may also find there the paladin Horace of Heironeous and some half-dozen of his lesser cohorts. Our divinations indicated that this paladin may be of interest to you.
The party had killed the Pulanti’s daughter in Barakus while she was there to forge an alliance with other vampire spawn in the ruined city. So, yes, they were of interest to the Count—but not at this particular time. Thelonius was far more interested in saving himself and his family than in tangling with “heroes.” And now, knowing that the heroes would intercept this letter, there was no way he was going to just hole up in Barakus until they came to kill him. He’d go to Barakus and then head deeper into the Underdark to nurse his anger until I’m ready for him to reappear. I may even bring him out as a potential ally to the PCs—he’ll certainly be equally upset with the drow.
But the letter served its purpose as far as I was concerned. Just a little snippet to let the PCs know that the drow were behind the attack; that the drow had their number and were capable of some pretty low acts of intrigue; and of course to further drive a wedge between the paladin and the rest of the party. The other players were none too happy to be described as lesser cohorts! That line really caught their attention.
The opening scene of Queen of Lies involves a drow assault—by necessity, actually, a slaughter—of some location or allies close to the PCs. Endhome served this purpose—and more specifically, the Wizard’s Academy. Endhome was in flames but more or less holding its own; the paladin spotted many dead drow in the streets, as well as some roving bands of paid troll thugs still at large, but mostly under control by the fighting forces of Endhome. There was little for him to help with, so he and the sorcerer headed straightaway to the Wizard’s Academy.
The Academy had not fared so well. On this assault the drow had brought beholders with them. Beholders plus trolls plus wizards equals a lot of dead wizards. (At any rate, the PCs are rapidly approaching the level of the NPCs in the tower anyway!) The tower was destroyed, the Helm of Power was gone, their NPC ally in the tower was found rent to pieces, still clutching the cloisonné pin of House Vrama in his hand. The hook to Queen of Lies was firmly set—but that adventure is still some time away yet.
The rest of the party eventually rejoined them in Endhome and the decision was made that, if the drow were in search of this “Vault of Larin Karr,” then, by god, the heroes would find it first.
Back to the Quail Valley they went, to see the wizard Crus. He gave them a map of as much of the Underdark as he had explored—which was not much, but he did them the courtesy of marking a crossroads of major primary passages that was, in his words, “a major strategic choke point, and crawling with powerful monsters when I last saw it.”
The party headed down into the Underdark—basically wandering aimlessly in search of the Vault. Well, not completely aimlessly: despite getting no more than verbal descriptions from me, their Underdark map was shaping up nicely and was a remarkably accurate match for the real thing.
I hate wandering monsters. But I also hate players taking their damned sweet time. So when the dice fall, I usually try to make them count.
By chance, their first major wandering monster encounter indicated a swarm of bats.
By chance, their second major wandering monster indicated vampire spawn.
Thelonius Pulanti, it seems, is making trouble for them already!
Eventually the PCs found their way to a major (marked) encounter area: the lair of two behirs. I had to excuse myself from the table to retrieve the (Huge) miniature of a behir I have. I came back with it stuffed into the back of my belt—to no avail. I heard one of the players say, “When he leaves the table like that, it’s always to get something that won’t fit into his miniature case.”
Damn metagamers. Anyhow…
I’d decided in advance that the behirs would hear (or smell) them coming and set up in ambush. The female crawled up onto the cave wall just above the passage where they were entering their lair, and would slither down behind them once they were into the cave.
First words out of the dwarf’s mouth as he enters the cavern: “How high is the ceiling?”
He looks up, he sees the behir. The behir’s “cunning” plan is out the window, so she snakes her head down into the passage, and breathes lightning. The fighter saves for half damage. The dwarf fighter-rogue saves for no damage. The sorcerer fails her save and takes 32 points of damage.
“I’m dead!” the player—my wife—screams. “I’m dead!”
I’m dead…. I think.
“How many hit points do you have?” I ask, thinking maybe someone will be able to save her from negative hit points. I counseled her early on during character creation to put a good score in her Con, and I know she has a lot of hit points.
Turns out she still has 8 hit points left.
The wizard player sits up. “YOU HAVE FORTY HIT POINTS? I would have been dead even if I made my save.”
True enough, I think the 7th level sorcerer has the second best hit points in the party.
The players are RIVETED to the table. This huge honkin’ monster just dropped down on them, fried them with lightning, it’s got twelve friggin legs, WHAT THE HELL IS IT?
The paladin’s player
picked up the miniature to look on the bottom. We’d had this kind of
incident before so I shouted at him to put it down.
“You lose an action point! Don’t pull that crap again!”
I look at the clock. It’s 9:55 pm. We only play till 10:00 pm. That’s the rules. (Ok, it’s the wife’s rules, but still…)
“… And that’s where we’ll end it for tonite, guys.”
You should have heard the howls of protest.
Man, in fact, I think the only way to top that kind of caterwauling is when I haul out the
second behir at the beginning of tonite’s session.
Wish them luck!
