The Durnhill Conscripts

ADVENTURE 47: A FATEFUL INVITATION

PC Roster:
Game Session Date: 29 May 2019

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Syngaard came crashing through the front door of the Enchanted Flagon, out of breath from running across the town in his full combat gear. "What the Hell's up?" he demanded. "You said the fate of the kingdom was at stake!"

The others were already around the main table, looking at Skevros's crystal ball. Syngaard shouldered his way between Kaspar and Daleth and took a look for himself. It was a group of Ossirnan Elites setting up what looked to be a massive catapult. Due to the muted colors, the event seemed to be occurring on the Ethereal Plane. "Is that--?" Syngaard began, looking at the large boulder sitting on the ground near the catapult's basket, seemingly engraved with runes.

"Yes," said Skevros, his mouth tight in a frown. "It's a meteor stone - likely the one stolen from the Diviner's Vault in the Azure Glades."

"Do we know for sure it's being set up to attack Durnhill?" Syngaard pressed. "All fuzzy like that, it could be anywhere."

"Read this," Daleth said, passing a sheet of parchment over to the bald fighter. "We've already seen it." Syngaard took up the paper and started reading, his lips moving silently as he did so. The seriousness of the situation was punctuated by the fact that Orion wasn't giving him a hard time for his sub-par reading skills. He read:

Dear Skevros, and his chosen "heroes",

The Ossirnans come bearing a gift. I am sure you would like to take their meteor stone for yourselves rather than let them "deliver" it properly to your city. You will find them cleverly hiding just south of your city's walls, although only your dog and its pet halfling will be able to do anything about them without a gate spell. You'd better hurry, though - a couple more hours and I won't have to worry about Durnhill anymore.

Alexandros

PS: In all honesty, though, I don't care what happens. Either you fail and I watch your city burn or you succeed and use the meteor stone against them and I watch their pitiful, whiny, needy asses burn. Either way I get some enjoyment out of it. Just thought I'd give you a fighting chance with this little warning.

PPS: Maybe Syngaard is on to something - it is rather cathartic to pick on halflings. Or maybe he's just rubbing off on me? Actually, that's a rather disturbing image; I'd rather he keeps his hands on his griffon.

Click to expand...

"...the Hell?" asked Syngaard, throwing the message onto the table before him. "I never rubbed him off! I know better than to touch that lich - I don't wanna end up a chunk of mithral!"

"By the looks of it, we have an hour before the catapult is complete," Skevros observed, ignoring Syngaard's outburst entirely. He passed a rolled-up scroll to Daleth, his fellow wizard. "This is a scroll of plane shift," he told the elf. "You will use it to return to the Material Plane upon the success of your mission. After that, Kaspar can get you back here using his ring of return."

"The mission what I think it is? Kill them Ossirnans, prevent them from destroying the city?"

"Yes, of course, Syngaard - what other possible mission could it be?" He closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath. "And before you ask, I am certain His Majesty will open his coffers to those who prevent the obliteration of his city, so yes, this is undoubtedly a paying mission." Syngaard, who had opened his mouth to ask that very question, closed it in satisfaction. It looked like he was finally getting the king's adviser properly trained!

Skevros ushered the conscripts out of the tavern and led them to the southern gate of the city. "I will need to cast a gate spell outside the city's confines," he explained. "But it will drop you at the periphery of the catapult so you can deal with the attackers." As he spoke, the spellcasters made their normal preparations: Daleth cast stoneskin, resist fire, and Rary's telepathic bond spells while Galen cast the spells bless weapon and magic circle against evil. Orion passed a scroll of her own to the elven wizard and Daleth cast a second stoneskin spell upon the halfling. "Thanks!" she said, whistling for her ghost-dog. By the time Carl manifested at her side, she had unstoppered a potion of mage armor for him to slurp down.

"You still got that crystal ball handy?" Syngaard asked before they stepped outside the city gate. Skevros wordlessly removed it from a cloak pocket and brought the image of the partially assembled catapult and its crew into focus. There were seven warriors in what looked to be hellsteel armor, each with a longsword containing a blade of the same material, assembling the catapult. Two archers, a man and a woman, stood further back by the meteor stone keeping an eye out for trouble, while a wizard stood before them as if supervising the entire operation.

"Set us down right here," Syngaard commanded, pointing to an area behind the archers. "We'll take them and the wizard out first."

"Is there any danger of the meteor stone going off?" asked Orion from the saddle of her ghost-dog. "Daleth blew up the last one with one of his weakest spells."

"The meteor stone does not look to be primed," answered Skevros. "It would take the wizard's touch to prepare it for detonation. I agree with Syngaard: take the wizard out first."

"Let us line up behind Daleth," suggested Galen, calling across the planes for his dire lion, Burt, and climbing onto his broad back once he manifested. "You'll make the first attack, Wizard-Pants. Make it as powerful of a spell as you have; we don't want the wizard to survive the initial assault."

"And let's get our reinforcements out now," suggested Syngaard, pulling the bronze griffon from his pocket and activating it with a quick rub of his hand. Instantly, Dick took form and the scarred fighter climbed into position between the beast's feathered wings. Kaspar followed suit by summoning forth the spirit of a giant stag beetle from his amber amulet of vermin. Once John had taken form by the elven monk's side, Skevros cast his gate spell, causing a vertical, swirling pool of colors, ten feet wide, to appear directly before the elven wizard. "Good luck!" called Skevros as the conscripts and their various animals surged forward into battle on the Ethereal Plane.

Daleth cast a prismatic spray spell in a wide cone that engulfed the wizard, both archers, and the nearest three of the armored warriors. The female archer gasped as a surge of electricity suffused through her body, causing her long hair to stand out in all directions. At the same time, the other archer faded away as he fell through a rift into another plane of existence entirely. One of the fighters immediately petrified into solid rock, while another choked on a virulent poison which suddenly filled his body, causing him to fall lifelessly to the ground. The third fighter - the Captain of the Guard - staggered under another electrical barrage. Of the six targets, only the wizard seemed unaffected, and Daleth swore silently under his breath - that was the one target he needed to take down, quick!

But quick was the elven wizard's watch-word of the moment; taking advantage of his enhanced understanding of arcane spell energy, he cast a quickened magic missile through his metamagic rod, striking the wizard unerringly, while Todd stabbed out at the same target with his tail-stinger. <Weird,> the pseudodragon said telepathically to the others. <I think I hit him, but if felt...funny.> If he had indeed hit the wizard it didn't seem as if his sleep venom had any effect upon him, in any case.

<I don't think that wizard's really there!> Daleth advised over the mind-link.

<Then he can't activate the meteor stone!> rejoiced Orion as she led Carl forward to attack the female ranger before she even knew the halfling - who had approached silently from behind her - was even there. Orion's nightflame short sword cut her down with one rapid strike between the shoulder blades.

<That don't make no sense!> complained Syngaard as Dick flapped over to the Captain of the Guard, biting him with his sharp beak while Syngaard sent his human bane scimitar crashing down through his armor, shoulder, and collarbone. Blood gushed from the wound as Syngaard pulled his blade out, and the Captain staggered to stay on his feet. <If there ain't no real wizard here, there ain't no threat, neither! There's gotta be an invisible wizard here or somethin', or this setup don't make no sense!>

<I concur,> said Kaspar over the link as he finished off the Captain with a rapid blow to the back of his head. The fighter crumpled instantly. <Daleth, can you see anyone else hiding around here?> As he thought his query, he was also straining his elven ears to try to pick up the sounds of anyone who might be lurking unseen in the vicinity.

Burt and Galen moved forward to attack the wizard with John skittering in their wake, and while their claws, teeth, mandibles, and blade all struck true, the wizard seemed unaffected. Concentrating upon the spellcaster, Galen announced, <He's definitely a fake - an illusion spell of some sort, I gather. So where's the real spellcaster?>

By now, the magical gate behind them had closed; Skevros hadn't wanted an escape route back to the city walls of Durnhill to remain as an avenue of attack for the assembled Ossirnans. But the fighters had barely had time to even recognize they were under attack as the conscripts surged forward. Daleth cast a true seeing spell from his azurewood staff of divination, using it to acknowledge that the meteor stone was in fact exactly what it appeared to be. Looking all about him with the spell still active, he found the missing wizard floating about a hundred feet above the battleground.

<He's up there!> Daleth called out over the link, pointing up at the robed wizard only he could see. <It's Alexandros!>

Orion didn't spend any time worrying about what that might mean - she had sent Carl forward to the rightmost fighter, whose back was still temptingly turned in her direction. She send her blade deep into his torso, causing him to cry out in a choking scream filled with blood. Then, to make matters worse, when he turned to face this unforeseen threat, there was Kaspar suddenly standing before him, sending a tenryutsume-covered fist smashing into his face, breaking his nose while fire and electricity coursed across the rest of his face. The stunning blow caused the fighter to drop both his shield and his longsword as he staggered, trying to remain on his feet.

Dick, in the meantime, flew forward to attack another fighter, screaming his war-shriek to freeze his prey momentarily - just long enough to clamp down on the man's arm. But by then, Syngaard was no longer on the griffon's back; the bald fighter had leaped from the griffon and raced over to engage the only other armored foe not otherwise engaged in combat. The warriors fought back with their hellsteel longswords, to limited success.

Alexandros flew down from his aerial vantage and headed straight for the meteor stone, one hand outstretched as if to prime it for explosion, the other one holding up a finger to his lips in a shushing motion aimed at Daleth. A dozen thoughts flooded the elf's brain: he had to stop the Mithral Mage from priming the meteor stone or it could easily kill them all! But Alexandros had recently slain the gods of Mikito's homeland and absorbed their power - just how powerful of a lich was he, anyway? And how was Daleth, the one person among the conscripts who could even see Alexandros while he was cloaked in an invisibility spell, supposed to stop him? He had several attack spells readied, but he doubted if any of them would be able to halt the Mithral Mage in his tracks, let alone kill him outright.

In the scant second or two it took for Daleth to examine each of these thoughts, he selected a course of action - the one course of action most likely to end in an outcome favorable to Durnhill and those out here on the front lines, protecting it from harm. Daleth said the words of arcane power, pointed his finger--

--and a thin, black beam hit the meteor stone, causing it to dissolve into nothingness, the victim of Daleth's disintegrate spell.

"NO!" cried Alexandros in true anguish - he'd had plans for the meteor stone!

While her enemy was facing Kaspar warily, ready to avoid another punch from the monk's hand and that metal-mesh glove-thing he wore over it, Orion got in a good backstab that slew him instantly. She then spurred Carl over to help Dick take out the fighter he was currently battling. There were bloodstains soaking the griffon's feathers and fur, testament to the fighter's skill in combat. Kaspar followed, striking the enemy but failing to put him into a walking stupor like he had done with his previous foe.

Syngaard was demonstrating his own skill in combat to the hapless enemy he was fighting, but it was a lesson the Ossirnan would never get to put into practice on his own. He retaliated against Syngaard as best he could, but the bald fighter caught the man's blows on his shield and then stabbed forward again with his human bane scimitar.

The Ossirnan warrior battling Dick, Kaspar, and Orion opted to try to take down the halfling first, perhaps seeing her as the easiest to slay. That was a mistake, for she easily ducked beneath his sword-strike and then cut a line of pain across his sword-arm for his troubles. He then tried striking at Kaspar, but the nimble monk dodged the incoming blow with minimal effort, smiling infuriatingly the whole time.

With a snarl of hated, Alexandros flew straight up for about 60 feet or so and then hovered in place, casting a meteor swarm spell down at the meddling conscripts. The first flaming rock just missed Galen, but the paladin was caught in the ensuing explosion of fire. Burt managed to back away in the nick of time, as did Daleth and Todd, but the fiery blast caught Syngaard unexpectedly from behind. The second meteor had been targeted directly at Syngaard, but it too missed, and then to make matters worse landed with a slight "puff" of flames that had the scarred fighter looking up at the Mithral Mage with a scoff of disbelief and a look that said, "Is that all you got?" But it at least singed Galen somewhat, even if once again Burt managed to avoid the worst of its effects. The fighter battling Syngaard was also only slightly singed, but his unbelieving expression said he felt the attack - which encompassed him as well as the conscripts - was a betrayal from the wizard who was supposed to be helping them destroy Durnhill's main city. The third meteor struck Kaspar full on, but its explosion was also somewhat minimal, although the blast managed to encompass Syngaard, John, Dick, Orion, and Carl as well. Orion escaped from that volley unscathed, the fire damage being absorbed into her magical bracelet, but she felt Carl discorporate once again as the blast tore apart his ghost-body. With a sad whine, he was once again gone from the field of battle and the halfling floated slowly to the ground, courtesy of her ring of feather falling. As she landed, she saw Dick was also no longer present; he had reverted back to statuette form and fallen to the ground. The fourth and final meteor had been aimed at the griffon and likely would have hit him straight on, had he not already been collapsed back into his figurine form; it struck the ground and exploded, catching Kaspar and Orion in the blast - but each of them used their respective combat training to successfully avoid the effects of the fiery explosion. John wasn't as lucky; overcome by the searing flames, he also vanished from view and the amber amulet Kaspar wore around his neck once more contained a stag beetle imprisoned within it.

"That's it?" cried Alexandros in dismay. "I only managed to kill a few stray animals?"

Galen responded wordlessly by pulling the illumium scabbard from his belt, pointing it at the Mithral Mage, and channeling a blast of Hieroneous's healing energy at the floating lich.

<We fightin' him?> Syngaard called over the link. <I thought we wasn't supposed to be fightin' him!>

<I do not know that we have the power to destroy him,> Kaspar pointed out.

<No, not permanently,> agreed Galen. <And if we do kill him, he'll only reform in a couple of days.> He sent another blast at the lich for good measure. <But it's good to see him suffer for a change!>

Daleth pulled the plane shift scroll from an inner pocket of his robes. <I should like to point out that our mission - to save Durnhill from the meteor stone - has been accomplished. I suggest we leave as quickly as possible, before he slays one of us!>

<Agreed!> said Galen, sending another blast at Alexandros. <Form up by Daleth!>

<Hey!> called Syngaard suddenly as the conscripts started heading towards Daleth and he spent a quick moment to slash his scimitar at the Ossirnan warrior he'd been fighting, catching him in the throat and dropping him lifelessly to the ground. <Somebody grab my Dick!>

Orion narrowed her eyes at the bald fighter, then bent down and picked up his figurine of wondrous power from the ground. <I will pick up your bronze griffon,> she emphasized as she ran to join the group. Kaspar tried his quivering palm attack on the other Ossirnan fighter but failed to connect and raced to get into position with the others.

"How nice to line up for me!" Alexandros chuckled, sending a chain lightning spell down at Syngaard and arcing to everyone else within range - including the two remaining Ossirnan fighters. Everyone survived the arcane assault, but some only by the barest of margins.

Galen and Burt raced forward to join the others and then, once everyone was in place (Orion stabbing one of the Ossirnans who tried to follow), Daleth read the words from the scroll and they all vanished from the Ethereal Plane, leaving a frustrated Alexandros hovering over a partially-assembled catapult with two bewildered Ossirnan fighters remaining among the corpses of their allies. The fighters, looking up at a furious Alexandros who had already targeted them with his spells, devoutly wished they had been able to plane shift away with the Durnhill forces.

The group reappeared in a random forest, sturdy oaks towering above them. <Let's see if he follows,> suggested Galen. <If he doesn't, it should be safe to return to Durnhill.> After several minutes, it appeared as if the Mithral Mage wasn't going to show. Kaspar pulled the ring of return from his robes and used it to teleport everyone to the southern gate of the city of Durnhill. They made their way back to the Enchanted Flagon just in time to see a gate open up in the air high above the front door - and for two screaming fighters clad in hellsteel armor to plummet a full 200 feet to their deaths.

Calmed by the murder of his two dupes, Alexandros mused on the fact that Skevros's pawns obviously feared him and fled before his might. That, he decided, would be good enough - for now....

- - -

Logan was rolling like crap again during this session - he was particularly upset at the low damage rolls on Alexandros's meteor swarm spell. And he let it slip that Alexandros has a CR 27 (Wizard 20/Archmage 5, +2 for the lich template) - something WAY above our ability to successfully fight, so "bugging out" at the end of this adventure was definitely the right thing to do. Logan's said Alexandros realized we're trying to find a way to destroy the osteovox cloud (and thus his phylactery) and as a result his days of treating us as amusing diversions is at an end.

ADVENTURE 48: IT'S ABOUT TIME

PC Roster:
Game Session Date: 12 June 2019

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"Report to the Enchanted Flagon immediately. It's good news, and a paying mission." That was the message that went out to the conscripts, courtesy of the rings they wore. The last bit Skevros had put in there to cut off Syngaard's inevitable initial query, but it was Galen who, upon entering the closed tavern, asked the first question: "What's she doing here?"

The "she" in question was an elven woman in orange robes identifying her as a member of the Azure Glade Guild of Abjurers. Galen had recognized her at once as the woman who had helped capture - and torture - the reformed succubus Serenity in the basement of her Guild Hall. The memories of her involvement had the paladin's hand on the hilt of the sword of Zehkar he wore at his hip, ready to draw his blade and put it to good use.

"At ease," Skevros commanded. "Tienna is here at my recommendation and will be afforded the full hospitality of the kingdom."

"But she--!"

"I am well aware," interrupted Skevros. "Nonetheless, this is important. Please, take a seat and we will discuss this rationally." Eyes narrowed in disdain, Galen pulled a seat out from the table and sat down, his hand still on the hilt of his longsword. Behind him, the other conscripts took their own seats. Once convinced he had their full attention (in other words, after Syngaard had gotten his customary drink from Karen), the king's adviser continued.

"I have had Leorna working on a way to prevent the Mithral Mage from being able to scry upon us. She, in turn, reached out to the most powerful surviving abjurer allied against the Seekers of Eternity."

"'Surviving'?" asked Daleth, an eyebrow arched on his elven brow.

"There was a great battle among our ranks once we learned the Seekers had infiltrated our Guild and were attempting to take us over from within," Tienna explained. "I am now the Acting Guildmistress."

"Good to know," remarked Syngaard, who in truth couldn't care less. He returned his attention to his ale until they got to the important stuff, like how much this mission was going to pay.

"I admit to having been duped by the Seekers," said Tienna. "They used my perfectly reasonable hatred of fiends to get me to aid them against Serenity - I had no idea that you...had chosen to ally yourselves with a demon." If there had been any attempt to keep the scorn from her voice at this last bit, it failed miserably. Galen merely grunted in acknowledgement, but his hand dropped from the hilt of his blade - it was, after all, quite logical that she'd have been unaware of the succubus's redemption and it was hard to blame someone for assuming all demons were evil - Serenity had been undeniably evil when he first met her. But he nevertheless focused his attention on Tienna's aura, hoping to catch even the slightest glimmer of evil. No luck, though; Tienna may have been involved in Serenity's capture and torture, but she had apparently done so with the best of intentions.

"In any case," Tienna continued, "the reason I'm here today is because I believe I have succeeded in finding a way to block the Mithral Mage's ability to scry upon you at will."

"Excellent!" exclaimed Orion. The thought of a lich spying upon her whenever he wanted, without her even knowing he was doing so, creeped the little halfling out considerably.

"How will you do so?" asked Kaspar.

"Wait--if you tell us now, he might be scrying upon us at this moment," cautioned Daleth.

"True, and I will take appropriate steps to prevent that eventuality when I tell you the specifics of my plan. But before I do anything, I want you to perform a task for me."

"I knew it!" exploded Galen, rising up from his chair. "She has the means of our salvation, but is withholding it!" Skevros had to command the hot-headed paladin to resume his seat. Reluctantly, he did so, glaring at the elven abjurer all the while.

Tienna stared down the paladin for a moment, then turned her gaze to the other conscripts in turn. "I want you to search my grandfather's old home for his spellbook," she said. "While you're there, I'd like you to see if you can unearth any clues as to how and why he died."

"Whaddaya need us for?" asked Syngaard. "Can't you go get it yourself?"

"I have tried, but each attempt to get close to the ruins has been thwarted by an overwhelming, subconscious feeling of terror - likely an abjuration built specifically to keep me away."

"So you need us to go get it," reasoned Syngaard. "What's it look like?"

"It's a spellbook," scoffed Daleth, his voice dripping with scorn. "It looks like a book. With spells written inside it. Hence the term 'spellbook'."

"What can you tell us about your grandfather?" asked Kaspar to change the subject as quickly as possible.

"The information I have is that he took the name Kronius and he was a transmuter, although he stylized himself as a chronomancer - a master of temporal magic." Orion just rolled her eyes at the thought of "Kronius the chronomancer" - they shouldn't let wizards pick their own names like that!

"Temporal? What's that - like, it wears off?" asked Syngaard.

"You're thinking - if that's the correct terminology for the limited cognitive process going on inside your cranium - of 'temporary,'" sneered Daleth. "'Temporal' has to do with time."

"In any case, his house exploded some 423 years ago - he was presumed to have been slain in the explosion."

"Wait, he died 423 years ago and he was only your grandfather?" asked Syngaard. "How's that work?"

"Elven longevity is a well-documented fact, as is their disdain for the kind of fecundity that has humans dominating the populace," remarked Daleth.

"Elves live long and often go several centuries before having kids," translated Kaspar.

"Why don't you just concentrate on your ale?" suggested Orion. That actually sounded like a good idea to the scarred fighter; it was taking too long to get to the payment part of this conversation, anyway.

"I will teleport you to the ruins. You find his spellbook and any details about his death that you can, and I understand you have the means to return back here on your own."

"I ain't hearing nothin' about no payment," pointed out Syngaard.

"I will pay you each 2,000 pieces of gold to complete this mission, as it is the stated prerequisite for Tienna to render her aid in the matter of the scrying," Skevros replied. "Now then, let us adjourn to the city limits, that you can be teleported on your way."

The spellcasters performed their normal preparatory spellcasting, Daleth casting a stoneskin spell upon himself and his pseudodragon familiar Todd, then another one on Orion using a scroll she provided. The halfling fed her ghost dog Carl his customary potion of mage armor, while Galen, contrary to his usual self, opted to forego any pre-emptive spellcasting at all. Judging from his sour look, it was entirely possible he didn't trust himself not to botch the casting given his current state of distraction at the anger he felt toward Tienna.

The elven abjurer cast the teleport spell and the conscripts found themselves standing before a set of marble ruins. The bluish tint of the vegetation all around confirmed that they were indeed within the Azure Glade. "This is odd," pointed out Kaspar. "Some of these walls are obviously quite ancient, while others could have been assembled together but yesterday." Indeed, there was quite a discrepancy between the various bits of remaining wall. There was a marble archway at the back of the ruins, it being one of the pieces that looked to be of remarkably recent construction.

Orion had Carl phase to the Ethereal Plane to see if she could see anything different from that vantage point, but everything there looked quite to same as it did on the Material Plane.

Syngaard, on a hunch, walked over behind the archway and peered through it from the other end. Everything looked normal, but his every instinct told him this recent-looking archway was the key to this place - it was probably one of those deals like the Enchanted Flagon where if you were wearing the right ring, the door would open not to a storeroom but to Skevros's extradimensional mansion. Not wanting to put any of his better weapons at risk, he pulled his backup longsword from his bag of holding and poked its edge through the arch's doorway.

Sure enough, that was enough to send arcs of blue energy erupting from the archway, striking the steel blade, and sending two blasts of electricity - or what looked like blue lightning, anyway - to strike the ground at either side of the other assembled conscripts. Energy welled up at the strike-points, coalescing into two vaguely humanoid shapes made of blue energy. They had the standard humanoid build, but their arms seemed extra long and their hands and clawed fingers were exceptionally huge, twitching as if in anticipation.

"Betcha these are temporary time elementals!" Syngaard called to the others, causing Daleth to visibly flinch at the stupid human's ignorance. The bald fighter sheathed his longsword - it was nothing special, just a run-of-the-mill sword he'd picked up somewhere during his adventuring career - and pulled his magical morningstar from his belt. If he was going into battle with time elementals, he wanted his most powerful weapon in hand.

Oddly enough, Syngaard had guessed absolutely correctly about these being time elementals, despite him never having even heard of such a thing before. One of the humanoid-shaped energy-things swiped its massive claws at Daleth, who fortunately was attentive enough to pull back out of the way at the last moment. The other approached Galen, who likewise avoided the thing's clawed swipe. Daleth cast a magic missile spell at the one menacing him, all the while trying to understand what exactly it was he was fighting. Despite Syngaard's general ignorance, he seemed to have hit it on the head in this instance, for these beings did actually seem to be composed of temporal energy. Todd, at his master's side, wisely opted to forego his normal stinger attack, realizing an elemental creature would be immune to his sleep venom.

Syngaard charged at the temporal elemental attacking Daleth, running through the archway to do so - it was the most direct path, and he assumed by triggering it in the first place it had already done whatever harm it could do. In this his usually-accurate instincts deserted him, for bolts of temporal energy struck Syngaard as he ran through the archway and by he time he had gotten to within striking range of his target, the bald fighter had aged six years! He took the odd feeling in stride, though, connecting solidly with his morningstar against the bluish energy of his elemental foe.

Orion, still on the Ethereal Plane with Carl, assumed the rest of the party had things well in hand and decided to see what she could do about locating Tienna's grandfather's spellbook. Looking about the ruins, it seemed as if at one time it might have had a second floor; on the assumption that the whole building might have sunken into the ground over the centuries, she had Carl phase lower into the earth below them. However, her blind fumblings through the solid ground below them proven the fallacy of that notion and she had Carl return back to normal ground level.

Galen stepped forward and got in three good strikes in a row with the sword of Zehkar against the time elemental facing him. It was a shame, he mused, that these creatures didn't have auras of evil, nor were they undead, for his longsword was empowered to deal considerable more damage to creatures of that vile breed. From behind him, Kaspar raised a hand to his amulet and summoned forth the spirit of his giant stag beetle, John, causing him to manifest behind the time elemental facing off against Galen.

But now the time elementals surged forward, one continuing to attack Galen while the other dropped away from Daleth and headed for Kaspar. Each merely touched their respective victims, but each touch aged their foes by several years. (Of the two, Galen felt the difference much more sharply than did Kaspar, considering how big a percentage of their overall lifespans a year was to members of their respective races.)

Daleth shot another magic missile at the time elemental he had been fighting and was gratified to see his spell cause the creature to implode, arcing back to the archway as blue lightning and causing a shimmering, blue energy field to coalesce in the doorway. Syngaard, in the meantime, rushed over to attack the other time elemental, and while his morningstar hit true it did so at the cost of another decade of age being grafted onto the bald fighter's body.

Orion was glad not to be fighting the time elementals and getting aged; she fully planned to live every possible minute of her maximum lifespan! She sent Carl over to investigate the shimmering field of energy covering the archway's interior, through which it looked like she could see a set of stairs leading up - stairs which had not been present earlier! As Kaspar and Galen finished off the other time elemental, its energy arced over to the archway as well, and now there was definitely a stairwell leading up to another level - although said stairwell was only visible from one side of the archway; from any other angle, it simply wasn't there.

"I'll go in first," Syngaard volunteered, charging through the archway once again, this time from the side among the ruins' interior section. Sure enough, the stairwell was solid, turning at right angles up to another level. The bald fighter soon found himself standing on the second level - one looking perfectly intact at this time despite the fact it was no longer present in his day - and face-to-face with another of these time elemental things, this one twice the size of the ones they'd faced downstairs.

The energy-beast stood in the middle of a shallow pool of water, clutching a small elven girl in one massive hand and a mage in silver robes in the other. This gave Syngaard pause for a moment, wondering if this was a younger version of the Mithral Mage, but as the figure struggled his face became visible and he was definitely an elf. (Of course, that don't mean nothin', thought Syngaard, 'cause wasn't Alexandros supposed to be able to inhabit different bodies?) In any case, this elf dude had a chain attached to a large book in a pocket of his silver robes so he figured it was probably Tienna's grandpa and this was the spellbook they'd been sent to fetch. Easy money, Syngaard thought to himself. All we gotta do is kill this bigger time elemental guy, grab the spellbook, and we'll each be two grand richer!

The robed figure turned toward Syngaard and feebly spoke. "No don't...stop it...." Syngaard threw his returning javelin at the elder time elemental and it responded by tossing the elven wizard against a wall and closing its other hand around the elven girl, shielding her almost entirely from view. She said nothing, apparently unconscious - or already dead.

Orion tried entering the magic gate from the Ethereal Plane and discovered she merely went to the other side of the archway that way, not through any time-displaced stairs. So she had Carl manifest back on the Material Plane and they tried it again, this time with success. Bounding up the stairs, she and Carl found themselves standing just behind Syngaard. She raced towards the silver-clad elf wizard crumpled on the floor by the wall, and in so doing, the elder elemental casually reached out and aged her with a touch. Galen pounded up the stairs just behind the halfling and likewise headed for the wizard. Next came Kaspar, and he followed Syngaard's path, straight into combat with the elder time elemental, striking it with a well-placed blow powered by his tenryutsume.

The elemental grimaced in pain but had already committed to attacking Syngaard, who as a result found himself in a 42-year-old version of his own body - nearly twice his normal age! He could feel the differences: a diminishing of strength and quickness, as well as an awareness that he was no longer as capable of sustained combat as he was in "his younger days" - despite the fact that his younger days were mere minutes ago! Still, he continued with his attacks, sending the weapon head of his magic morningstar deep into the time elemental's body, and if he didn't have as much power behind his strikes he at least had the wisdom and clarity of mind to place each blow where it would likely do the most damage.

Daleth and Todd entered the upper-story room last, the elf taking a strike from the elemental in passing that added a few years onto his frame as well. He went over to the unconscious Kronius just as Orion was pouring the contents of a healing potion down the chronomancer's throat. While the healing likely prevented Kronius from expiring from his wounds, Daleth could see - where the others likely could not - just how incredibly ancient Kronius was; it was very likely he was at the absolute limits of even an elven lifespan. But despite the healing he remained unconscious and Daleth wasn't entirely sure they ever be able to wake him back up again.

Galen snapped his head up in a sudden realization then, cursing himself for a fool, then opened his bag of holding and pulled out a greatsword he'd recently taken for his own during the conscripts' adventures. As a frost elemental bane greatsword, its magical enhancements would likely come in very handy against a time elemental, the paladin reasoned. And such was indeed the case, for even with his first successful strike he could feel the power of the weapon tear through the time elemental's energy-lattice body. Kaspar took advantage of the creature's pain to strike a flurry of blows at it from behind, all the while ready to grab the elven girl should the elemental release her. But rather than strike back at the elven monk, the elemental seemed determined to age Syngaard out of existence, for his insubstantial blows aged the fighter even further, well into the old age of 55 human years. But Syngaard, undeterred, continued on with his own attacks, striking the elemental three times in rapid succession, each blow visibly harming the creature made of temporal energy.

Daleth raised his metamagic rod in the time elemental's direction and channeled a scorching ray spell through it. He hit with two of his three rays, dealing nowhere as much damage to the energy-beast as he had hoped. But then Galen dealt it another blow with the weapon designed to battle creatures like this, and that was all it took for the elder time elemental's body to implode like the two below had done when slain. Its body collapsed into a gatelike temporal vortex, and the elven girl - looking to be all of ten years old or so - was sucked into the swirling miasma of energy before any in the party could prevent it.

"Well, that sucks for her," Syngaard observed while Orion's ministrations finally woke Kronius to full consciousness. Blinking in confusion and looking all around him, he blurted out, "What have you done? You sent the time elemental away!"

"It was attacking you!" pointed out Orion.

"No--it was draining me of my life essence!" argued Kronius. Orion didn't see the difference and said so.

"I had summoned it here to bargain with it to restore my little daughter to life after she'd been slain by devils escaping from the Baator's Breath Mountains!" Kronius explained. "It was taking my temporal energy, aging me to de-age my little daughter back to an earlier time, when she was still hale and healthy! Oh, my poor Tienna!"

"Tienna?" exclaimed Galen. "Sir, we were sent by an elven woman named Tienna to fetch your spellbook. She said you were her grandfather, though - not her father."

"Then she lived?" gasped Kronius. His eyes flashed back and forth as he examined the possibilities. "Then--the portal she was whisked through will have deposited her safely somewhere in the future? She will grow up separated from her own time - but she will live!" His eyes glistened with tears as he realized his daughter was safe after all. "Then I can die in peace," he said, fumbling with the chain to his spellbook. "Take this," he said, passing it over to Daleth.

"Sir, we can try to heal you..." began Galen.

"No, no, it's too late...for any of that," Kronius wheezed, his voice getting more and more feeble with each breath. "My body...is older than that...of most elves, I reckon - you cannot cure...extreme old age. Go while you can...I don't know...if the door to the past...will survive my...own...death...."

"You heard the man!" exclaimed Syngaard. "Let's get out of here!" He led the exodus back down the stairs and through the archway back into the ruins of the place in their own time. Shortly after exiting, an explosion of temporal energy could be heard through the archway to the past, which was cut off suddenly as the marble archway collapsed into a heap of shattered stone. Kaspar silently retrieved the ring of return from his robes and held it out so the others could each grab hold of it, then said the words that returned them all to the outskirts of Durnhill's capital city.

Once Skevros and Tienna had been told of their experiences, the elven abjurer accepted her father's spellbook from Daleth. "The man who found me and raised me as a child - he must have heard the stories of Kronius, figured out what had happened, and told me I was Kronius's granddaughter. That must have just been an assumption on his part - or perhaps he was purposefully shielding me from the confusing mechanics of chronomancy...."

"In any case, we held up our part of the bargain," Syngaard pointed out. Skevros nodded and indicated a chest of coins that had been brought to the tavern in the conscripts' absence. The bald fighter grinned and gave the king's adviser a "thumbs up" to indicate his pleasure at the end of a successful business transaction. But Orion wanted to get on with the business of shielding the Mithral Mage from being able to scry upon them at will.

"Here," said Tienna, passing along a pair of rubbery plugs to each of the heroes. "Place these in your nostrils."

"This a joke?" asked Syngaard.

"I assure you it is not," replied Skevros. As the conscripts suspiciously applied the nose plugs, Tienna started passing out blindfolds to everyone as well. Galen began to protest, but once again Skevros assured him it was necessary. "We do not want to allow Alexandros - if he is watching through any of our eyes at this moment - to gain any information about what we are about to do."

"Very well," sighed the paladin, putting the blindfold in place.

"Bud the dose plugs?" asked Syngaard. "We afraid he's gonna sdniff out what we're sayin'?"

"You will be imbibing a potion," Skevros replied. "We do not want him to deduce any of its contents by smell and have a leg up in trying to counter its effects." Orion was still skeptical, so the adviser reassured her, "I already drank the mixture you are about to imbibe - Tienna gave it to me while you were on your mission."

Begrudgingly - and suspecting a trick - the conscripts placed their blindfolds on. Orion felt a potion vial being placed into her hands. "Take this for later," Tienna said. "It's for Hirek, on the Ethereal Plane." Just to be sure, Orion pocketed the potion vial, removed her blindfold, climbed upon Carl's ghost touch saddle, and had him shunt them to the Ethereal Plane. Sure enough, there was Hirek, waiting patiently. He nodded silently and the halfling had Carl return them to the Material Plane, where she placed her blindfold back in place. "Okay," she agreed. "Let's do this."

With a clinking of glass, vials were placed before each of the heroes, who were told to drink up. "Galen, Kaspar, Orion - I will need your weapons, if you please," said Skevros as the conscripts drank down their mixtures. "I promise you they will be returned to you at the end of the procedure." Wordlessly, Kaspar removed his tenryutsume while Galen passed over the sword of Zehkar and Orion handed over her nightflame short sword. Each weapon was placed in a small barrel containing the mixture the heroes had just sampled, so they could absorb the effects as well. "Orion, if you would please give Hirek his portion, then return directly back here?"

Orion and Carl vanished from sight, only to return again a moment later. "Done," she said.

"It is safe to remove the blindfolds and nose plugs now, if you like," Tienna said. "Alexandros has been successfully blocked from scrying upon you or the weapons infused with the spirits of your allies."

And then another presence manifested in the room - the spirit of Osleth, rising forth from Orion's blade. "Now that we are all protected from Alexandros's sight, I can explain my plan to destroy his phylactery," he announced. "As you know, his phylactery takes the form of his osteovox, which is composed of the souls and memories of all who know his true name. This phylactery, I have learned, can be destroyed - but only from within."

"What's that supposed to mean?" demanded Syngaard.

"There are five other essences bound within the osteovox; likely the Jakuran gods Alexandros slew. There is also something else...something alive and unsettling within. Freeing the divine essences and slaying whatever that 'other' thing is should destroy his phylactery. The Mithral Mage will survive the destruction of his phylactery, of course, but it will weaken him considerably - and his current body will be his last."

"That seems simple enough," observed Galen.

"The only problem," continued Osleth, "is entering his phylactery. The only way in...is to die. Once you are dead, the spirits of Hirek, Tenryu, Zehkar, and myself will merge with your own to protect you from the worst effects of the phylactery's defenses."

"Wait, so we all gotta die in order to take down Alexandros?" asked Syngaard.

"I fear so. But rest assured, we will have contingencies in place to have you resurr--"

"I'll kill the halfling!" the bald fighter interrupted.

"What the Hell?" demanded Orion. "What'd I ever do to you?" And then she remembered her potion of reduce person prank - but that surely didn't warrant such a lethal retaliation! Syngaard, she realized, just had problems with the entire halfling race.

"That won't be necessary, Syngaard," Skevros insisted. "You slaying each other, or even yourselves, would look suspicious. It would be better for you to die in battle against a more powerful enemy."

Osleth continued on. "Although you must die to accomplish this task, the best course of action will be to carry out your normal business as usual - and then, the next time Alexandros crosses your path, fight him with everything you have as if you're trying to slay him."

"We will be trying to slay him," argued Syngaard.

"Trying, yes - but he is still much too powerful for you. He will best you, but if you die at his hands he will think the threat you represent dealt with and will likely leave Durnhill alone from that point on. You can then destroy his phylactery from within, after which time you will be resurrected and can then deal with the Mithral Mage on a permanent basis."

"I like it," grinned Syngaard. "When do we start?"

- - -

Logan had actually anticipated at least one of the PCs dying the last time we faced Alexandros - but his damage dice sucked and we were all able to bug out before the Mithral Mage could kill any of us. Had any of the PCs died then, Logan had a "while you were dead" briefing all ready to go, which would have spelled out the plan Osleth explained to us at the end of this adventure. But we silly players refused to give the DM the PC deaths he expected so he had to go this route instead.

It's actually kind of cool that our big plan to take down Alexandros involves him killing us all first.

Oh, and the aging effects from the time elementals eventually all wore off, so I won't be playing Syngaard as a 55-year-old any more. (Which is fine with me, as I play a 55-year-old in real life!)

ADVENTURE 49: BRAIN TRAUMA

PC Roster:
Game Session Date: 19 June 2019

- - -

"Hey, why's everybody here?" demanded Syngaard, upon entering the Enchanted Flagon and seeing all of the other conscripts standing about. "Anybody get a message over their rings?"

"No," admitted Orion, a frown crossing her face. "I just...felt like coming down here. Why? What are you doing here, if nobody called you either?"

"I dunno," Syngaard replied. "The idea just kinda...came to me."

"The same here," replied Galen, scowling. "I don't see Skevros anywhere around. If this isn't his doing...who put that thought in our heads?"

"I dunno," Syngaard repeated. "But whoever did it, I don't like it."

"Indeed," remarked Daleth, "one marvels at the very concept of an actual thought in your head at all. At least the hypothesis of an intrusion from an external source explains its presence in the first place."

Any reply Syngaard might have made was interrupted by a sudden rapping on the front door. On edge as the conscripts were, they immediately pulled out their weapons and readied for an incoming attack. Galen began to concentrate on his aura sense, so he could detect at once any emanations of evil coming from whoever might be at the entrance to their de facto headquarters.

"I'll get it," replied Daleth, heading to the door. "I hope it isn't another dwarven delivery man." He opened the door to find a good-looking human woman with a cascade of red hair standing before him. Her eyes were unfocused, as if she were in a somnambulistic trance.

"Evil!" Galen called out from behind the elven wizard.

"Cori?" asked Syngaard, lowering his morningstar and stepping forward. "What are you doing here?"

Speaking in an unnaturally deep voice, Cori replied, "We must speak with you. We await in the caverns beneath the abandoned temple." Having given her message, she just stood there staring straight ahead at nothing.

Galen squinted as he narrowed down the woman's evil aura to being concentrated solely around her head. "I think she's being mind-controlled by an evil wizard or something," he surmised.

"This body and that of the prince are held as collateral to ensure your cooperation," Cori explained. "No harm will come to them unless you give us cause to do so." With that, she turned around and walked away, shambling as if unused to the confines of her own body.

"Abandoned temple?" asked Orion. "Who's this Cori woman? What's going on?"

"Cori works at Mama Kat's," Syngaard explained. "And she probably means the Temple of Pelor - where the orphanage once was."

"And below which are the caverns where we met up with those mind flayers," pointed out Kaspar. "I believe we now know who is behind the young lady's mind control. Come - we should make haste." And the monk led the way to the abandoned temple of Pelor, the other conscripts following behind him. On the way, they prepared their normal "getting ready for combat" spells: magic circle against evil spells centered on both Galen and Daleth; stoneskin spells on the elven wizard, his pseudodragon familiar Todd, and Orion; and mage armor on Orion's ghost-dog Carl, delivered via potion form after he'd been summoned from the Ethereal Plane.

Arriving at the orphanage, Syngaard led the way to the secret panel in the floor which led to the caverns below, finding a rope already in place leading down the vertical shaft. A flickering glow from below told him there was already someone down there waiting for them. Wordlessly, he grabbed the rope and slid down to the cavern below, the others following immediately thereafter. (Orion had Carl lower himself ethereally through the floor and made her way down in that fashion.)

Not surprisingly, a trio of illithids stood there awaiting the arrival of the conscripts: two normal-sized mind flayers and their leader, a ulitharid named C'thorlumbrox who towered above everyone else present. One of the smaller beings carried a flaming torch, no doubt for the conscripts' benefit, for the mind flayers could see perfectly fine even in complete darkness.

"Before you even say anything," Syngaard roared, "you let Cori go right now. I'm serious: you get your squiddy minds out of her head or there's no deal here." He had his magic morningstar in hand and looked ready to bring it crashing down on the ulitharid; Syngaard still seethed at the thought that C'thorlumbrox had actually transformed him into a damned halfling before - the squid-head deserved some payback for that!

"And release the prince from your control as well," added Kaspar. "We have come, as you asked - now give us a show of your own good faith."

<Very well,> replied C'thorlumbrox telepathically, his tentacled face a mask of inscrutability. <It is done.> A mind flayer's face was not built for smiling, so the conscripts couldn't tell just by looking at him whether he was telling the truth or smirking silently at their gullibility in believing he had actually done as he claimed. But Kaspar nodded, as if indicating that he at least took the ulitharid at his word.

<We have information regarding the Mithral Mage,> C'thorlumbrox began. <983 years ago, the human mage Alexandros attacked our Underdark colony and stole a piece of our Elder Brain. That sliver of the Elder Brain is still alive and holds together his phylactery.> Daleth nodded knowingly at this, realizing it to be the "unspeakable thing" Osleth mentioned was living within the Mithral Mage's phylactery.

<In order to permanently destroy Alexandros, you will have to kill that sliver of the Elder Brain,> the ulitharid continued. <Unfortunately, it is still partially psychically linked to the Elder Brain and killing the sliver will cause further harm to the repository of all of our colony's collected knowledge. Such an offense normally warrants the most painful of deaths to the offenders; however, the Elder Brain is willing to offer its mercy in exchange for a favor on the colony's behalf.>

"So you have a mission for us," Galen surmised.

"A payin' mission?" Syngaard wanted to know.

<Around the time of the Mithral Mage's assault,> C'thorlumbrox resumed, <there was an illithid sorcerer outcast living on the fringes of the colony. He was presumed slain in the assault, but he has recently resurfaced as an alhoon - an illithilich, an undead abomination. He is a danger to the colony and those previously sent to deal with him have instead converted to his 'Cult of Truth.' We want you to kill the illithilich and his cult.> Turning to look directly at Syngaard, C'thorlumbrox added, <You are free to claim any treasures you find in their lair as payment. We will know when you have succeeded. Upon the successful completion of your task, you have my promise that our colony will never bother the Kingdom of Durnhill again.>

"So we gotta kill a mind flayer lich for you," Syngaard recapped. "And his minions. How many minions, and what are their capabilities?"

<Three mind flayers: a wizard, a monk, and a fighter. Neither is as powerful as the alhoon.>

"And you know of their current whereabouts?" Galen asked.

<We will lead you through the caverns leading to their lair, although we will not accompany you any further. The crystals within their cavern drain psionic energy, weakening creatures like us unless they have built up an immunity, as the alhoon and his minions have done.>

"That's pretty handy," scoffed Syngaard. It wasn't entirely clear whether he was talking about the defensive properties of the crystals for the alhoon and his troops, or the excuse as to why C'thorlumbrox and his two lackeys weren't going into battle alongside the conscripts. But the mind flayer trio led the surface heroes through the winding passageways of the Underdark until they stood at the entrance to a large cavern filled with reddish-orange crystals poking through the stone floors, walls, and ceiling. The crystals glowed slightly, providing ample illumination for the conscripts to see, in the middle of the immense cavern, a structure created from a massive stalactite hanging from the cavern's ceiling, connected by a stone bridge platform to an equally massive stalagmite growing up from the floor. Viewed from the side, it made a sort of lightning bolt shape.

<That is where the alhoon and his cohorts have made their lair,> observed C'thorlumbrox. <We will leave you to take it from here.>

Daleth cast a Rary's telepathic bond spell on the group of heroes, knowing full well that with the telepathic nature of the mind flayers, they'd be able to "join in" on the heroes' silent conversation as needed. <I'll check the buildings and see where everybody is,> offered Orion, sending Carl onto the Ethereal Plane to see what they could see. As soon as they hopped dimensions the halfling and her ghost-dog disappeared from view of the others, but both reappeared a mere minute or so later.

<I found all four of them,> the halfling reported. <The lich is up on the bridge, facing away from us. The fighter and what I assume is the wizard are on the far side of the bottom structure, harvesting those weird crystals. The fighter's in heavy armor, with a sword at his belt. What must be the monk is inside the lower building, on the ground floor. There's an interior set of stairs winding up the middle of the stalagmite leading up to the bridge level and set of double doors facing the area underneath the stalactite - I assume that's their normal entrance.>

<How do we want to do this?> asked Galen. <As soon as we rush one of them, the others will all know about it over their mindlink.>

<We take out the monk first,> suggested Syngaard. <He's the only one inside a building, so even if the others know we're in there, there are only two ways to get to us - unless they got magic like we do. Wizard-Pants, can you get us inside the building with a teleport spell?>

<Of course - if Orion can describe the layout of the building in sufficient detail.> The halfling climbed down from her mount and began doing just that, drawing a diagram on the stone floor with her finger while Daleth studiously looked on.

<Okay, here's the plan,> Syngaard said. <Daleth, you get us in there. Kaspar, you take out the monk. Orion and me will go protect the front doors of the lower building - that's the obvious approach for the others to try to come get us. Galen, you're the best equipped of us to take out the undead guy - the lich is all yours. When we pop in, you can head upstairs to go take him out. Kaspar and Daleth can follow you upstairs after they take out the monk. Questions?>

<Yeah - how'd I get stuck on front door detail with you?>

<Must just be your lucky day.>

Once everyone nodded their readiness and took up their positions, Daleth teleported the group inside the stalagmite building. The lower floor was all one big room with the stairway column in the middle of it. Kaspar had been positioned in the group to be nearest to the illithid monk upon arrival, and as soon as he saw an enemy standing before him he reached out with a quivering palm attack, touching the mind flayer before he was even aware of the elf's presence and shattering his heart by vibrating its molecules into decohesion. The illithid monk fell to the floor, dead as a stone.

Syngaard ran over to the front door, Carl and Orion at his heels. Once there, the two conscripts readied their weapons, the bald fighter with his morningstar in a two-handed grip and the halfling wielding her nightflame short sword in one hand and a tanglefoot bag at the ready in the other. Then, with a flash of light, Burt manifested behind Carl - Galen had summoned him from the Beastlands as extra muscle. Anyone opening those doors was going to be in a world of hurt!

With his greater speed, Kaspar made it to the top of the stairs before Galen, in his heavy armor, did. Once there, the elven monk took a striking stance, ready to attack if the illithilich opened the door on the bridge level leading down to the lower structure. Galen cast a bless weapon on the sword of Zehkar as he climbed the steps.

The alhoon didn't disappoint; he opened the door to go downstairs and was punched between the facial tentacles with a cobra-swift strike, powered even further by Kaspar's tenryutsume. Still, the lich retaliated immediately with a paralytic touch from one of his facial tentacles, but Kaspar was far too swift for him to land a blow. In disgust, the undead mind flayer leaped over the side of the bridge, landing on the cavern floor between the armor-clad illithid and the one wearing a wizard's robes, both of whom had quit their crystal-gathering duties to attend to the threat they'd just learned of telepathically.

By this time, Daleth had made it up the stairs behind Galen, only now all three heroes could see their intended target had leaped down to the ground some 30 feet below. Switching strategies at once, Daleth leaned over the side of the bridge and cast a quickened slow spell at all three mind flayers, following that up with an acid fog spell catching all three within its area of effect. Once the second spell took effect, covering the illithids in thick, greenish vapors, Daleth couldn't see how they had reacted to his first spell - but only the mind flayer fighter had been slowed.

The illithid wizard cast a resist energy spell to shield him from the acidic effects and made his best speed through the thick, cloying fog, trying to find the edge. The fighter unsheathed his greatsword and likewise started moving - slowly - toward the opposite edge. Inside the building, behind the front doors, Syngaard remained in his attack stance, waiting to clobber whichever enemy opened the door, but Orion got tired of waiting - and heard Daleth over the telepathic bond mention that all three of their foes were inside an acid fog spell just outside. Opening the doors herself, she had Carl race outside the building. She could just see the outline of the illithid fighter at the very edge of the acid fog spell and targeted him with her tanglefoot bag, hoping to pin him in place. With a typical halfling's penchant for ranged attacks, the bag hit its target smack-dab in the chest, gumming up his armor and slowing him even more, but it failed to glue him to the spot as Orion had hoped. That would have been fantastic, pinning him in place just inside the effects of an acid fog spell so he couldn't escape the ongoing corrosive attack!

But following the impulsive halfling's lead - although he'd never admit to that - Syngaard came crashing outside and attacked the fighter with his magic morningstar. He was proficient in the use of his spiked weapon against even the most nimble of opponents; against one affected by a slow spell and with gooey tanglefoot glue gumming up his armor, Syngaard found he was even better than anticipated. The illithid's metal armor soon had several holes pierced in it, as did the purplish flesh beneath.

Kaspar ran straight down the side of the stalagmite, his slippers of spider climbing ensuring his perfect balance until he was back on the ground. His momentum sent hurtling him right at the illithid fighter, his fist stunning the hapless foe with the power of the monk's strike. The illithid fighter's numb fingers couldn't maintain their grip around the hilt of his greatsword, which clattered to the stone ground at his feet as he swayed in place just inside the boundaries of the acid fog spell, trying to stay upright.

"Burt! Attack!" called Galen from the side of the bridge. The dire lion wasted no time following his master's orders; running up between Syngaard and Kaspar, the beast slashed out with a powerful set of claws and sliced through the stunned mind flayer's throat, dropping him lifelessly back into the acid fog spell, where he was lost to view.

The alhoon, for his part, wanted nothing to do with ongoing acid attacks; he cast a dimension door spell and popped into view over by the wide cave opening the conscripts had used to enter the enormous cavern. Fortunately, he appeared within Orion's peripheral vision, and she warned her companions of his presence over their shared mental link - even pointing out she could see the negative energy coursing through his system, identifying him as the lich they were after.

The illithid mage, meanwhile, stepped out of the cloying fog and into fresh air once again. He turned, intending to race around the spell effect's confines to go join the battle he heard raging at the front of the stalagmite structure - but was immediately blasted from above by Daleth, who sent a scorching ray spell coursing through his metamagic rod of empower. The mind flayer was engulfed by the three gouts of flame, falling lifelessly to the ground without having gotten to make a single attack against these intruders.

Not wanting to get taken out by the alhoon's mind blast, Orion had Carl shunt them back to the Ethereal Plane. The halfling wasn't entirely sure but she was fairly certain that a mind flayer's blast of psionic energy didn't reach all the way into the ethereal. If nothing else, this would protect her long enough to set herself up for a sudden attack out of seeming nowhere once Carl positioned himself just right.

Having lost his armored foe back into the acid fog and warned by Orion of the alhoon's sudden presence behind him, Syngaard whipped around and saw the illithilich was too far away for the fighter to be able to close the gap before the undead thing could bring his mind blast into play - and Syngaard had been under the effects of an illithid's mind blast before: it could take a guy right out of an entire fight! He briefly considered throwing his returning javelin at the lich but then came up with an even better plan. Grinning evilly at the alhoon, Syngaard whipped out his Dick. He activated the bronze griffon and hurled it at the undead foe; Dick took full form already in flight and closed the gap immediately, snapping at the alhoon with his sharp beak. And while his attack failed to connect, at least now the illithilich had a foe right there in his face to keep him busy while Syngaard raced at full speed in his direction.

Kaspar employed a similar gambit, activating his amber amulet of vermin and causing the stag beetle to disappear from within its confines; John materialized directly behind the alhoon, his mandibles snapping at the undead foe as Kaspar raced up to join in the fight. Still up on the bridge, Galen sent a beam of healing energy coursing through his illumium scabbard to strike the alhoon, then called for his mount. Burt raced over to just below the bridge, allowing the paladin to leap over the edge and land upon the dire lion's broad back. Then the two raced into battle with the illithilich as well, Burt biting and clawing their foe as soon as he was within range.

Surrounded by enemies, the alhoon reached out with a paralyzing touch at the largest foe attacking him - and Burt's muscles seized up at once. Galen leapt from the dire lion's back as the noble steed fell over onto his side, unable to move the slightest muscle. The undead mind flayer then opted to move away from the group to give him some room for spellcasting, Dick and John snapping at him as he frantically scrambled away.

But then, before he could get off a spell, there was an immediate sensation of pain as Orion's nightflame short sword pierced into his back and popped out through his withered chest - the halfling had maneuvered Carl directly behind the lich on the Ethereal Plane, out of his view, and then returned to the Material Plane to get in her sneak attack. The blow would have been fatal to a living creature; as it was, the halfling had managed to stab the alhoon in a nexus of negative energy, disrupting some of the unholy force keeping him mobile.

Keeping up the assault, Syngaard brought his morningstar down upon the alhoon's head while Kaspar sent a flurry of blows striking the lich's neck, chest, shoulder, and head. But it was another blast from Galen's illumium scabbard - at nearly point blank range - that finally took the illithilich down.

"Wizard-Pants! Shut off your spell!" called Syngaard, racing back over to the acid fog. "You might be eating up lootables!"

"The spell doesn't work that way!" Daleth called back. "You'll have to wait for it to run its course." That left the scarred fighter grumbling about stupid wizards not being able to even control their stupid spells until the acidic vapors dissipated on their own. As soon as they had, Syngaard examined the slain fighter's greatsword and armor, noting that while both were slightly pitted from the acid - and the breastplate punctured in several places by Syngaard's morningstar - they were both still serviceable (and the puncture holes would smooth over if the armor were claimed by another and magically restructured itself to the new wearer's form). Checking out the slain bodies of the other mind flayers and the rooms of their twin buildings resulted in quite a hefty pile of loot: several magic rings, amulets, a circlet of blasting, a bunch of scrolls for Daleth to pore over, one of those floating ioun stone thingies, and more gold and gems than the group would be able to haul out on their own in one trip if they hadn't had extradimensional storage space within their bags of holding.

"Now that's what I call a payin' mission!" Syngaard whooped as they shoveled everything into their magical bags.

- - -

Poor Logan - I don't know how long he worked on the stats for a mind flayer monk, but any amount of effort was ultimately wasted as Harry's monk took him out (all 107 hp of him, according to Logan) immediately with the first successful use of Kaspar's quivering palm strike. His dice also seemed to have defected to our team for this adventure, with one memorable set of his attack rolls resulting in a 3, two 2's, and a natural 1 - all misses.

Kaspar ended up with the minor circlet of blasting; Orion took the illithid fighter's +3 mithral breastplate (good thing it resizes) and +4 gloves of Dexterity; Syngaard got a ring of evasion; Galen took the ioun stone that grants him a +1 bonus to all his attacks and saves and whatnot and a +3 ring of protection; Daleth learned three new spells and gained a 2nd level pearl of power and a +4 ring of protection. All in all, not a bad haul! And four of the PCs are close enough to their next level that it's all but guaranteed that they'll level up at the end of their next adventure.

ADVENTURE 50: BEHIND THE PLANE DOOR

PC Roster:
Game Session Date: 26 June 2019

- - -

"Now that's more like it!" exclaimed Syngaard upon answering the summons from his ring and seeing two emeralds at each of the conscripts' place settings around their main table in the Enchanted Flagon. He took his seat - he was the last to arrive as usual, he noted - scooped up his gemstones, and dropped them into the coin purse at his belt in a single, practiced motion, then indicated to Karen that he wanted a mug of ale. "So, what's up?" he asked as the illusory waitress brought him his not-at-all-illusory beverage.

Skevros explained, "Two nights ago, a prisoner attempted to break out of the palace dungeons. He had apparently been digging a tunnel with a spoon when he hit upon an underground dungeon complex hitherto unknown to those residing in the castle."

"I was unaware we have dungeon cells under the castle," observed Daleth.

"I would anticipate nearly every castle has dungeon cells below them," replied Skevros, somewhat surprised that the knowledgeable elf was this naive about the need for a place to house prisoners to the kingdom. "In any case, the hole he had dug was not yet large enough to permit him passage into the dungeon complex, but it was large enough for a black pudding to enter his cell and, we presume, devour him."

"So instead of eating dessert, this time the dessert ate him," commented Syngaard wryly. Skevros only frowned and began explaining the details of the ooze creature known colloquially as a "black pudding," causing the bald fighter to wave him off and return his attention to his ale. "Yeah, yeah, got it - eaten by a blob monster. Go on."

"I spent yesterday expanding the escape tunnel and cleaning out the lower dungeon level the prisoner had inadvertently breached. However, there is a door down there beyond which I could not go, for the doorway is a permanent gate leading to another plane of existence. Were I to pass through it I would no longer be within the confines of the kingdom of Durnhill and the mark of justice would slay me outright."

"Couldn't you at least have stuck your head through the doorway?" complained Syngaard. He could already tell this mission was going to be exploring the other side of the doorway, leading to who-knew-which plane - some intel on what to expect would certainly be helpful!

"There was no need: I could see through the doorway perfectly fine. It leads to a library." Syngaard just snorted - that sounded incredibly boring! Still, for two emeralds, just to go check out some room full of books? A sudden thought hit the scarred fighter. "This ain't the kind of library where the books fly off the shelves and attack you, is it?" he groused. That very thing had happened to Galen, Kaspar, and him in the last library Syngaard had gone to; it was the sort of thing guaranteed to get you to swear off reading books entirely!

"I am uncertain; that is where you will come in," replied Skevros. "Another thing: except for the planar doorway and the tunnel dug by our would-be escape artist, I found no other legitimate entry to the dungeon level beneath the castle."

"That don't make no sense," argued Syngaard. "How'd it get built in the first place if there's no way into the place?"

"Easy," replied Orion. "You dig down, build your dungeon, then seal up your original entrance when you're done." Turning to Skevros, she asked, "So we're assuming the plane on the other side of the door was the only way into the dungeon?"

"Until the recent tunnel was dug, that is correct. And one final thing: the walls of the library were composed of what looked to be clouds."

"Clouds?" repeated Kaspar. "Then...presumably it's on the Elemental Plane of Air?"

"That is definitely one possibility," agreed the king's adviser. "Certainly not the only one, though. Come: I will walk with you to the castle."

The group headed over to the castle, where Skevros led them to the lower levels beneath the centuries-old structure. "So, did you find anything in the dungeon worth fighting?" Syngaard asked.

"A variety of oozes and constructs," Skevros replied. "Things that could easily have been there for hundreds of years."

"No undead?" asked Galen. Skevros shook his head in the negative. "Well, that's good," muttered the paladin.

At the planar doorway, the group's spellcasters began their preparations for imminent battle: magic circle against evil spells on Daleth, Todd, and Galen; stoneskin spells upon Daleth, Todd, and Orion; and a death ward on the paladin. Carl, summoned from the Ethereal Plane by Orion, lapped up the mage armor potion she offered him once she was sitting in the ghost touch saddle and could physically interact with the spirit of her trusty riding dog, loyal even after death. Daleth cast the final spell, a Rary's telepathic bond linking the conscripts mentally together, and indicated their readiness to Skevros. "In you go, then," said the king's adviser, extending his hand to the planar door. "Good luck, everyone!"

Syngaard took point, stepping through the gate spell and entering the library. Sure enough, there were books on the shelves with some weird writing on them, but the scarred fighter hardly gave them a glance; he was more interested in the room's walls. They were indeed seemingly composed of cloud-stuff, kind of like a solid fog or acid fog spell shaped into a vertical plane. He allowed his gaze to follow the wall up to the ceiling, some 30 feet high - it was made of the same cloud-stuff. Hesitantly - and ready to pull his hand back if he felt any acid secretions - Syngaard pushed his hand into the wall, which gave somewhat; he was certain he could probably push his way through the entire wall and into whatever room lay just beyond, but it would be slow going, just like it would be traveling through a solid fog spell. Also, his hand felt tingly inside the cloud-wall, as if the cloud structure was building up a static charge.

Daleth had followed the fighter into the room and cast a true seeing spell upon himself from his staff of divination. "I believe this an electrical version of an acid fog spell effect," he announced - causing Syngaard to pull his hand out of the wall as if he'd touched a hot griddle. Daleth just smirked and cast a protection from energy spell upon himself and Todd, guarding them against the worst of any potential electrical attacks they might encounter in the near future.

Kaspar entered the room and examined the names of the books printed on their spines. "These are all in Elven," he announced.

"Indeed," replied Daleth, looking at random titles on the shelves. "They seem to be books on magical theory."

"Spellbooks?" asked Syngaard.

"Not as in books of spells; rather, books about spells, and spell theory," Daleth explained. Syngaard shrugged; it all sounded the same to him. "I don't see no way out of here," he said, "unless you elves can winkle out some secret doors or something." Daleth and Kaspar circled the oddly-shaped room, finding nothing along those lines.

But Orion had approached a floating, red orb hovering motionlessly above a raised platform. It reminded her of the red orbs that had provided additional healing magic to a group of wizards they'd fought early in their adventuring careers. "Guys, check this out," she suggested.

"It's evil," Galen announced. "This whole place is evil!" He was getting evil auras from the entire area, but nothing indicating the red orb was any worse than the rest of the library. With a look of determination, he bravely put his hand upon the floating orb - and then through it, for the orb proved to be completely insubstantial.

As soon as his hand entered the orb, a flood of information filled the paladin's mind: the layout of the entire library, complete with a working knowledge of how these color-coded teleport nodes worked and which ones were linked to which. The library in whole was rectangular in build, but the individual eleven rooms were oddly-shaped (as might be expected when the walls were made of compressed clouds) with no doors at all in the entire library save the one the conscripts had entered from the dungeon level below their castle. Galen passed on this information to the others over the telepathic link. <This room is called the Entry Library,> he explained. <Stepping onto this platform allows us to go to one of two other rooms which contain red teleportation nodes.> One of those rooms was a dead end, while another led to a room with a teleportation node of a different color, allowing access to other rooms beyond it.

"So we can only go to the rooms with the right colored floaty-ball-thing?" asked Syngaard. "That's going to take longer." The group quickly decided they'd hit the "dead end" rooms first when possible, to preclude the need to double back to a room they'd already explored. Galen volunteered to be the first to check out each room. "The fact that I'm picking up evil emanations from all directions makes me the most likely candidate to deal with whatever evil might be present," he reasoned - and Syngaard saw no reason to argue against that. Since Daleth had the other magic circle against evil spell active, they put him at the end of the line so they'd have that particular brand of protection at either end of their formation. Orion and Carl would follow directly behind Galen, with Syngaard behind them and Kaspar right before Daleth - it was assumed his greater speed would best allow him to catch up to the others, rather than tempt him to get too far ahead of the group if he were earlier in the line-up. That all decided, Galen stepped onto the platform and disappeared from view.

<I'm in the Summoning Chamber--> Galen began before breaking off that thought entirely. Standing before him was a barbed devil, tearing apart wooden bookcases and shredding the books and scrolls stored within. Inscribed on the floor beside the spine-covered devil was a summoning circle. <Barbed devil!> Galen called over the telepathic link as he charged behind the fiend, bringing his sword of Zehkar down in a smite evil attack. Unfortunately, the devil spun at the paladin's approach and managed to dodge out of the way at the last possible second. He roared in anger, but then grinned evilly as he realized he now had a much better target for his rage than wooden bookcases....

A pair of sharp claws ripped across the breastplate of Galen's plate armor, digging deep grooves in the metal. But then Orion was in the Summoning Chamber behind the paladin, tossing an electrified dagger from her bag of blades at the hulking fiend. It didn't look like the dagger itself did much damage - in fact, it bounced off a protruding spine from the fiend's chest and clattered to the floor - but it discharged its electricity as it did so, and that at least caused the fiend to roar in pain.

Syngaard entered the room next and charged at the barbed devil, bringing his morningstar down on the creature. His attack broke off several of the find's numerous spines, but there were plenty of others to poke at the bald fighter as his weapon struck the barbed devil's body and as he snarled in pain from the stabbing pain in his hands, Syngaard suddenly recalled why he hated fighting these hamatulas. Still, his morningstar attack seemed to have done more damage to the fiend than his sharp spines did to the fighter, so all in all Syngaard considered it a win.

Kaspar suddenly materialized in the room and attacked the barbed devil with a stunning fist attack. His strike hit true (damaging the monk's hand in the process), but the hamatula managed to shrug off the stunning attempt. Then Daleth arrived on the platform behind Kaspar and, taking a glance at the situation, decided his best way to contribute was by casting a greater invisibility spell upon Galen, the one wielding the weapon best suited to slay a fiend from the lower planes.

Galen shifted position slightly and channeled another smite evil attack through his sword, stabbing from a different direction and getting through the fiend's defenses - again, at a cost, for there was no way to hit the fiend with a hand-held melee weapon without exposing your own hands and forearm to the bristling spikes emanating from the barbed devil in all directions. But then the fiend retaliated in an unexpected fashion: rather than lashing out at any of its enemies, seen or unseen, it stepped away and blanketed the area in an unholy blight spell effect.

The conscripts all felt the effects but Orion got the worst of it in two different ways: while the others were drained of some of their vitality, she was physically sickened by the cloying miasma of the spell and mentally anguished that she had failed to activate the collar of false life she had had crafted for her ghost-dog before riding him into battle. Carl was slain outright by the unholy blight, leaving the halfling to fall slowly to the room's floor, mentally kicking herself for her forgetfulness.

But despite her sickness, Orion channeled her anger into her next throw and the electrified dagger she snatched from her bag of blades struck true. It only transferred its electrical charge before falling to the floor without having pierced the beast's flesh, but that was sufficient for the halfling's purposes - and she didn't stab herself on the barbed devils spines in doing so.

That whole "don't stab yourself" concept seemed like a pretty good one to Syngaard, so instead of charging the fiend and slamming it with his morningstar, he opted to whip out his Dick instead. Activating the bronze griffon and tossing it in the barbed devil's direction, Dick took full griffon form right in the fiend's face and snapped his beak at him but the devil managed to dodge out of the way at the last moment. Kaspar followed suit by summoning John directly behind the fiend, who was now flanked on either side by a griffon and a giant stag beetle.

Daleth cast a magic missile spell through his metamagic rod and the missiles each struck true, eliciting a roar of pain from the devil. Then Galen, Kaspar, and Syngaard sprang forward to finish off the fiend. Oddly enough, despite having been found in a room with a permanent summoning circle inscribed on the floor, the barbed devil's body did not disappear upon its death. "It must have been gated here," suggested Daleth, knowing that had it merely been summoned it would have disappeared back to its home plane upon its death.

Galen took his illumium scabbard in hand and applied healing energy to those of the group who needed it. He then stepped back to the teleportation node with the red sphere hovering over it and used it to teleport over to the one other room in the library that had a red globe teleportation node.

This was the Alchemical Lab, featuring large vats of a silvery-white liquid being slowly added to, drip by drip, from overhanging spouts whose containers were being heated - rather like a tea kettle. Galen noted the liquid in the vats wasn't radiating evil like the rest of the room - odd. <It's safe!> he called over the link, and the others soon joined him. "Interesting," observed Daleth, examining the substance. "It looks to be a good-aligned variant of the silversheen mixture. Apply this to a metal weapon and it should be extra efficacious against any other fiends we might encounter in the next hour or so."

"Effy-cayshus? What the hell's that supposed to mean, Wizard-Pants?"

"It means," replied the elf, grabbing the morningstar from Syngaard's grasp and dipping its weapon head into the substance, "that you will now be able to inflict even more damage upon the next barbed devil you see."

"Well, okay then," said Syngaard, taking back his morningstar. Orion dipped her nightflame short sword's blade into the silvery-white substance while Daleth scrounged around some vials from the lab and filled them with the substance for future use. "Bless weapon will do the same thing for me," Galen said, applying the spell to the sword of Zehkar. Then he crossed the room to the next teleportation node, this one with a yellow orb floating above it. There were two other rooms with yellow orbs, one of them a dead end, so that's where Galen headed first. This was the Rest Chamber and its table and two chairs were empty of visitors. Galen noted that sound was oddly subdued in the area - a quite practical effect for a library, he noted. But, seeing nothing of import in the room, he teleported over to the other room with a yellow orb, the Abjuration Library, the others following behind him.

The most notable thing about the Abjuration Library was the complete shambles it was in: the place was torn apart, with smashed bookcases and shredded pages strewn all about. The trail of destruction led to one of the cloud walls; apparently whoever had torn this place apart had gone straight through the walls, as slow and painful a process as that might have been. According to the mental map of the library Galen had stored in his mind, the other side of that wall housed the Treasure Vault - now that was a place worth visiting! And fortunately, the treasure Vault was accessible via a blue-orbed teleportation node, of which there was one right there in the Abjuration Library. (Why the marauder hadn't used the node instead of going through the cloud wall was beyond the paladin; perhaps they were dealing with particularly stupid foes?)

There was only one way to find out. Galen stepped onto the teleportation node and immediately stood in the Treasure Vault. As far as treasure vaults went, this one was somewhat underwhelming, given there was but a single chest up against one wall; the most prominent features of the room were the six statues of demonic figures in the middle of the chamber, in a pattern to suggest ceiling-support columns although they didn't reach to the ceiling, which like the rest of this cloud-library was 30 feet from the floor.

Orion followed Galen into the room. <Um, guys,> she said over the mental link. <That statue over there, the one closest to the chest, is radiating waves of positive life force energy. It's alive!> Galen focused his own enhanced sight in that direction and only then noticed that one particular statue was radiating more evil than the background level of the rest of the room.

<Blabbermouth!> came an unknown voice over the Rary's telepathic bond. <You've ruined the surprise! I'll have to bite your head off for that!>

The others rushed into the room and Daleth, with his true seeing, called out, <The statues are all illusions - and there's another barbed devil inside that one!>

"Crap!" muttered Syngaard. Barbed devils, with their lengthy spikes, were starting to become one of his least favorite combat foes. You couldn't even hit the damned things without tearing up your own hands and arms! He'd need something long, like a spear or a halberd, to take one down while still staying out of range of those damned spikes - and he couldn't see himself lugging around a weapon that long all the time.

While Syngaard was grousing to himself, Galen was springing forth into battle. Channeling another smite evil surge through his sword of Zehkar, he did an enormous amount of damage to the fiend, who immediately put biting Orion's head off further down the list of Things To Do in the Immediate Future - first he had to deal with this blasted paladin! He scratched at the Hieronean's face with a set of wicked claws; blood trickled into Galen's eyes but he didn't let that stop him. An electrified dagger struck the fiend mere moments before Syngaard prepared himself for the impending pain and let the barbed devil have it with the full force of his swing, the morningstar's weapon-head shearing off a few barbs on its way to smashing into the fiend's body. Beside him, Dick snapped at the fiend, ignoring the spikes stabbing at him as he did so. Kaspar followed Orion's approach and stuck to ranged weaponry, his tenryutsume charging up the shuriken he threw the fiend. (The monk was certain the flames would be ignored by the barbed devil, but Orion's daggers had already shown these hamatulas were not immune to electrical attacks.)

Daleth tried a two-pronged approach, casting a quickened slow spell upon the devil (which the fiend was able to resist) followed up immediately by a magic missile spell empowered through his metamagic rod (which struck with accuracy, breaking through the devil's inherent resistance to spells). But it was the sword of Zehkar which brought the barbed devil down - and like the other one, this one's corpse remained where it fell.

The battle over, those wounded by the fiend drank up healing potions of various strengths to restore themselves, while Orion headed over to the treasure chest. After assuring herself it wasn't trapped, she put her lockpicks to good use and soon had the chest opened, revealing coins of varying denominations, mostly gold. "Odd," remarked Kaspar, watching the halfling dump the contents of the chest into her bag of holding (they'd divide it up equally once they got back to Durnhill). "Those coins are all of elven mint."

The next room in line was the Evocation Library. There the conscripts found a similar trail of destruction leading to one of the cloud walls - these barbed devils apparently did not like books! (Which begged the question: then what were they doing here in the first place? They hadn't been summoned, that was apparent.)

<Let's move on,> suggested Galen. He stepped onto the teleportation node - this one yellow - and transported over to the Lesser Magic Library. This one was also in a shambles, but the destruction of the room was still undergoing, as a bone devil had lifted a bookcase over his head and hurled it at one of the outer cloud walls, where it stuck about 12 feet above the floor. With the fiend's back turned to his direction, Galen charged the bone devil but it heard him coming and swung about, striking out at him with a clawed hand that the paladin was able to duck beneath before bringing his longsword in for a lateral blow, a smite evil surge powering the strike. The skeletal fiend shrieked in agony.

Orion entered the room behind Galen and sent an electrified dagger flying at the bone devil as she raced around to get into a flanking position - it was times like these that she particularly missed having Carl with her! Then Syngaard appeared on the teleportation node, racing forth immediately with a big grin plastered on his scarred face at finding himself an enemy that didn't poke you in the hands when you attacked it - although the big, scorpionlike tail sticking out from the bone devil's butt showed it was also capable of a particular type of poking of its own. Dick appeared on the platform next and likewise raced forward, flapping his wings to race over Galen's head and snap at the looming bone devil's face with his beak.

Kaspar put his incredible speed to good use, running around and striking the bone devil from behind, flanking him with Galen (and, arguably, Dick) but failing to hit the creature in such a way as to stun it, even for a moment. Daleth materialized on the platform and tried taking the bone devil out with a disintegrate spell, but the beam from his fingers missed the creature by no more than an inch.

Surrounded by enemies on all sides, the bone devil regarded group for a moment before focusing his attention on Syngaard. "My master will allow my freedom if I bring him your head," he grinned, striking at the scarred fighter with both sets of claws while his tail stinger came flying over his crouched back to stab Syngaard in the chest. But even though the strikes all hit, Syngaard managed to scoot back enough that the attacks each just barely hit him, and the stinger didn't even puncture deep enough for its venom to enter the fighter's system. "That all you got?" he taunted. "Your master's gotta be really disappointed in you!"

"I will prove my worth to the Hope Ender!" roared the bone devil - and then roared even louder as Orion's nightflame short sword, coated in the holy silversheen, pierced his lower spine. Dick hovered in place and snapped at the bone devil's face, his attacks ineffective other than keeping the fiend distracted enough for Syngaard to put his full strength into a bevy of blows with his morningstar, bashing away at the fiend's left knee, hoping to hobble it. Kaspar struck out with a flurry of blows, each lightning-quick, but the bone devil had seen one hope of redemption in slaying Syngaard, so that's where he kept his focus. The bald fighter was kept on the defensive, giving ground slowly to the ongoing attacks.

But this allowed Galen to position himself to best effect and let loose with the full power of the sword of Zehkar. The holy blade crashed down upon the fiend's spine in a blow fueled with the holy energy of Hieroneous, then brought immediately to bear again and again, each blow carving a deep groove in the bone devil's tough carapace. So powerful was the string of attacks that the fiend staggered in place, almost dropping to its knees. Daleth cast a chain lightning spell centered solely on the bone devil, and this visibly weakened it even further.

But still it continued its focus on Syngaard, which made it all the more satisfying to the scarred fighter when his final morningstar bash was the strike that finally took the fiend out. It crashed lifelessly to the ground, bleeding profusely from several places.

"Tell the Hope Ender that Syngaard says 'hi,'" the scarred fighter said, shaking devil ichor from the head of his morningstar.

"He won't be able to do anything of the sort," Daleth pointed out. "He's dead. It's not like he's going to form a new body back in Hell or anything."

"Yeah, well it still sounded cool," Syngaard argued.

Moving on, Galen checked out the Spell Experimentation Area, finding it to be empty. That left only the innermost chamber in the entire library left, and one by one - Galen first, at his insistence - the conscripts teleported into the Inner Sanctum. There, they discovered a naked female figure sitting upon a stone platform, rocking inconsolably back and forth, cradling a pair of severed, feathery wings to her chest. A pair of bloody stumps jutting from her back showed that these wings were her own.

Galen immediately stepped forward to help, assuming this to be an angel, but then he noticed the unmistakable scourge of evil polluting her aura - this was no celestial being, but an erinyes: in fact, one the conscripts had met up with before.

"I was wrong," she muttered to herself. "Oblivion would have been better...."

"Hey!" remarked Syngaard, finally recognizing where he'd seen this woman before. "It's what's-her-face, the pretend vampire chick! The one with the two barbed devils we fought in those ruins!" Sudden realization hit the fighter. "Hey, I'll bet those were the same two barbed devils we fought before!"

"We killed one of them the last time we fought," Kaspar pointed out.

Orion, in the meantime, was examining a statue in the back corner of the room - it looked like the guys had the situation well in hand, and the wingless erinyes didn't look to be in the mood for putting up much of a fight. The statue, carved of a dark marble, bore more than a passing resemblance to Daleth and wore a robe seemingly made of the same cloud-stuff as the walls and ceiling of this library. A book sat on the pedestal holding the statue.

"So, what's your story?" demanded Galen of the erinyes. "How did you come to be here, and who did this to you?" He was using his gruff, no-nonsense voice but fighting the chivalrous urge to come to the aid of what looked to be - if you ignored the bloody wing stumps - a young woman in trouble.

"I failed the Hope Ender," she replied. "I was to have tricked you into signing a new blood pact - but I failed. For that, I was thrown in here, where he throws all who fail him. If we figure out what it is this place is protecting, we will be allowed to rejoin his armies. If not, we end up staying here until we build up the courage to try to break through the electric-storm walls. So far, none have made it through."

"So you don't know what this place is protecting?" Daleth asked.

"I do not."

"And you will stay here until you try making a break through the cloud-walls, which will electrocute you to death?" Galen repeated.

"I will," the erinyes answered. "Unless...." She looked up hopefully at the paladin standing above her. Galen waited for the inevitable attempt at seduction or promise of untold power if they'd only help her to escape and was surprised when it didn't come. "Unless," she continued, "you agree to kill me right now and get it over with. I would welcome a quick death."

"And I would be only too happy to provide it," the paladin answered, raising the sword of Zehkar high. As decapitations went, it was a smooth operation.

Daleth picked up the book at the base of the statue of the eerily-similar elf. It was a journal of one Lethad Stormsea, likely an ancestor of Daleth, given that their first names were anagrams of each other. The journal told of Lethad's discovery of the dungeon complex guarding a gate to the Nine Hells.

"Wait, what?" demanded Syngaard. "We're in the Nine Hells? Like, right now?"

"It would seem so," replied Daleth. "That door in the dungeon underneath the castle is likely a permanent gate directly here to the Nine Hells."

"That would explain the presence of the devils. And the fact that I'm detecting evil from everywhere around us," remarked Galen.

"I fought and killed devils in Hell," mused Syngaard in an awed voice. "THIS IS SO COOL!"

The journal further explained that Lethad decided to reinforce the gate by building his home on the Hell side, creating the 40-foot-thick permanent maximized electric fog spell effect all around it that would kill most devils attempting to breach his home and deterring most of the others from continuing. And any that succeeded would then be weakened to the point of being easy pickings.

Flipping through the journal's pages and skimming along, Daleth noted a particular note of disdain for the "lesser races," particularly humans, in the writings of the author. Looking over at the bumbling Syngaard, Daleth immediately appreciated how this likely ancestor felt - and then he looked at Galen and realized the entire human race could not be judged on the antics of one particular member. He decided further study would need to be made to determine just who exactly this Lethad Stormsea had been. But as the conscripts made their way back through Lethad's former home, Daleth noted the teleportation nodes had been affixed with repulsion wards preventing evil outsiders from coming into contact with them, which meant wherever a devil happened to land when the Hope Ender tossed them through the roof into the cloud-obscured library, that's where they were stuck unless they could survive a trip through the interior cloud-walls.

"It would seem the kingdom is safe from a fiendish invasion," Daleth observed. He was wearing the cloud-robe from his ancestor's statue; as might have been expected, it didn't even need to be resized as it fit the elven wizard perfectly.

"I imagine Skevros will wish to beef up the protections around the gate in any case, just to be sure," Kaspar opined.

"That would be wise," Galen agreed.

"I'm just glad to be going back home," Orion remarked. "I hope Carl won't be mad at me when he remanifests. Next time I'll have to remember to activate his collar before battle."

"I - killed - devils," Syngaard enthused, "in Hell!"

- - -

This was a fun adventure to go through. Once Logan started describing the "cloud walls" of the library I knew exactly which Paizo Flip-Mat he was using for the battle-mat: the flip side of the Arcane Library he'd already used for the Diviners Library where Galen, Kaspar, and Syngaard once tried unsuccessfully to steal a book on the Mithral Mage and eventually had to bribe some students to steal it for them. I remember looking at the weird cloud-walls when Logan first purchased the Flip-Map and thinking it was a pretty silly layout; I doubted then it could be used in a serious adventure. But Logan proved me wrong: this was a cool set-up. And the fact that it was in Hell never even occurred to us, although I'm surprised none of us thought to try "flying" in the rooms since we had all assumed we were on the Elemental Plane of Air.

Sadly, Joey did not attend this gaming session - now that school's out for the summer, he got his days mixed up and had scheduled something else for a Wednesday night, forgetting that that was the night we played through the Durnhill Conscripts campaign. So, despite the stated goal up-front, at the start of this campaign, that whoever didn't show up would have their PC off doing other things that session, we had Dan run Daleth as well as Galen. This worked out for the best, as once again Joey hadn't shown up for a session in which Logan had designed some Daleth-specific treasure. (That robe of his ancestor's has several pretty cool magical properties, all of which tie into the "Stormsea" name.)

Finally, Galen, Kaspar, and Syngaard all made it to 16th level at the end of this adventure.

ADVENTURE 51: DUTY CALLS

PC Roster:
Game Session Date: 3 July 2019

- - -

It couldn't have been much past two hours past midnight when the conscripts, long since having retired to their individual rooms, were blasted awake by the sounds of war horns trumpeting. Durnhill was at war with Ossirna, the country to the south, and the populace had been trained that the sounding of the war horns meant an imminent attack. Not surprisingly, as the conscripts were throwing on their clothes and buckling on their armor, Skevros sent them a message through the iron rings they each wore: "Report to South Gate, tell garrison there to reinforce West Gate, fifteen minutes until enemy army arrives."

Orion sent her ghost-dog Carl racing ethereally through the buildings, making as straight of a bee-line as she could to the South Gate. She wasn't entirely surprised to find Kaspar already in place, explaining to the guards stationed there of their redeployment - the elven monk had little in the way of equipment and she'd never seen anybody move as quickly as he could. Galen rode up behind her astride Burt, then Daleth and Todd arrived on foot, the pseudodragon perched upon the elven wizard's shoulders, alert for trouble. "Where's Syngaard?" Orion asked, looking around the streets for him. He lived apart from the others and would be approaching the South Gate from a different direction than the route the others had taken.

This turned out to be especially true when, with a flurry of wings, Dick dropped down from the sky to a perfect four-point landing among the assembled conscripts, the bald fighter sitting upon the griffon's broad back. "Betcha this ain't no payin' mission," Syngaard griped.

"We'll be paid by the continued safety of our citizens," replied Kaspar as the others began casting spells upon themselves - or, in the case of Orion, pulling out a stoneskin scroll for Daleth to cast upon her. Syngaard just grunted in reply. "Citizen safety" wasn't a particularly spendable coin.

"I won't forget this time," Orion promised Carl, bending over in the saddle and activating his collar. A false life spell flared into being, imbuing the ghost-dog with additional staying power for the combat to come.

<Checking,> thought Daleth to the others over the Rary's telepathic bond spell he'd just cast on the group. He had also imbued himself with a magic circle against evil spell, Galen casting the same spell upon Burt. The wizard had also given himself stoneskin protection and Galen had cast a resist fire spell on himself. <Loud and clear,> the paladin reported over the link.

<Likewise.>

<Same here.>

<I'm in, but I'm dropping off - I'm going to take Carl ahead ethereally and see what we can see.> As Orion and Carl faded from view, she felt the mental presence of the others over the telepathic link suddenly get severed away - the spell didn't cross planar boundaries, but Orion knew she'd snap back into the link once she and Carl returned to the Material Plane.

Not wanting to get too far away from the others, Orion led Carl to a small grove of trees just to the west side of the road leading up to the South Gate. The sound of the gate opening caused her to look back and she saw the unmistakable forms of Galen and Burt heading out the door and over to the trees on the eastern side of the road. Kaspar pushed the gate closed and others barred it securely from the inside; apparently the monk and paladin would be meeting the enemy forces outside the walls of the city. Figures that Syngaard wouldn't, the little halfling thought to herself. He was a lot of bluster and big talk but she doubted his commitment to anything but his own personal gain. Sure, he could deal quite a bit of damage with the weapons he kept on hand, but Orion still wouldn't categorize him as a hero, like the others among the group. More like a big, stupid mercenary they let hang around because he was occasionally useful.

A flapping of wings alerted her to Dick landing on one of the 50-foot-tall towers flanking the South Gate. Syngaard was still on the griffon's back, his solar energy morningstar gripped in his shield hand, providing him some limited vision in the near-darkness of the night - and a big, blazing target for any enemy forces to focus upon. Orion just shook her head; he was an idiot, that was for sure, but sometimes his idiocy worked out well for the rest of them.

Daleth took up position on the battlements above the gate, atop the 30-foot-tall wall of solid stone encircling the city. He strained his keen elven vision to the south, seeking to spot the army said to be approaching. There was a slight movement ahead, over a rise: yes, that was them, a small regiment of armored soldiers, footmen in full plate in front, armed with longswords and sporting heavy steel shields, while behind them came bowmen in chain shirts. The footmen were arranged in two staggered lines with another soldier following; the four archers were all in a row with a fifth taking up the rear. If the rearmost soldiers were the leaders of their respective groups, Daleth scoffed at the level of Ossirnan bravery among their officers.

Daleth couldn't make out the facial features on the front lines, decked out as they were in full plate armor, but the archers were all human and seemed to be living; the elven wizard wouldn't have put it past the Ossirnans to drive undead forces out before them to attack Durnhill. He mentally checked his spell inventory; as much as he'd love to drop a chain lightning spell in the midst of the regiment they were still too far away for that to be a possible strategy. He could wait for them to get closer, of course, but it might be more prudent to halt their advance as far away from the city walls as possible, in case they had any surprises up their sleeves. With that thought in mind, Daleth cast an Evard's black tentacles spell in the middle of the footmen, engulfing four of the five in the front row, all four of the second row, and the erstwhile "leader" bringing up the rear. The archers were all too far back to be within the spell's radius of effect, but given the size of the black tentacles that sprang up from the ground, the wizard was fairly certain the writhing appendages should block some of their shots even so.

The cries of surprise and alarm from the footmen was a good indicator that these were living foes, not undead. But as the front lines were forcibly halted in their forward movement, the archers likewise stopped their advance and looked about for targets. There was one obvious enemy there, up at the top of the tower beside the gate, astride a griffon and holding some sort of glowing beacon in his hand. The four archers sent arrows arcing up at Syngaard; at this range, only about a third of them hit him, and of those quite a few were deflected off his shield. "Okay, it's on!" snarled the scarred fighter with a grin, sending Dick flying off the tower and diving into combat.

Kaspar sprinted toward the group ensnared in the crushing tentacles, heading for the one soldier who had escaped the spell. He brought his tenryutsume-powered fist into the infantryman's face before the poor fellow even had an indication that the elven monk was standing there before him.

But on the Ethereal Plane, Orion wasn't paying attention to the combat unfolding before her. Instead, her focus was centered on the two horsemen with flaming lances riding past the rest of the invaders, heading for the city's walls. None of the other conscripts even seemed to notice them and with a start the halfling realized that, like her, the two riders were on the Ethereal Plane, hidden from view from those on the Material Plane. She stared at the horses and her magically-enhanced vision allowed her to spot the concentrations of negative energy coursing through the ghostly figures: these were ghost-horses, no more alive than was Carl beneath her! The Ossirnans had apparently patterned an attack strategy after her and Carl!

That meant that stopping these two was up to her. She sent Carl forward from the trees to intercept the two approaching horsemen and flung an electrified dagger at the nearest rider. Her aim was true and, having drawn his attention, the ghost-rider diverted his course to ride straight at the mounted halfling, his flaming lance aimed directly her way. The weapon struck Orion in the side, nearly throwing her from the saddle, but fortunately much of the fire damage was absorbed by the magical bracelet she wore. The other cavalryman, on the other hand, continued his advance upon the city walls - which, Orion knew, were no impediment to an ethereal rider, who would pass right through them as if they weren't even there.

As Dick dived down from above, the yellow-haired ranger captain sighted down her bow at the griffon's rider and sent a flurry of arrows directly at Syngaard, several of them striking true. This earned her the satisfying sight of the bald griffon-rider's wince of pain - and the nickname "Blondie-Bitch" from Syngaard, who decided he was definitely going to take her down for that.

Galen sent Burt racing forward into combat and the dire lion finished off the foot soldier Kaspar was fighting with a swipe of sharp claws and crushing jaws filled with saberlike teeth. The paladin, in the meantime, was concentrating on the auras of their enemies and noted that while some blazed with the undeniable scourge of evil, this was not universally the case; apparently some of these warriors could possibly still be redeemed. But no, this was war; in war there was no time for the niceties that might otherwise be applied. Galen cast a bless weapon on the sword of Zehkar, the better to deal with those enemies of a truly evil bent. The others, likely more neutral in temperament, would learn too late the folly of joining an army ruled by evil.

At Syngaard's urging, Dick crashed down upon the second archer in the row; the bald fighter really wanted to get to Blondie-Bitch, but that would surely happen soon enough. For now, he leaped down from the griffon's back while Dick savaged the hapless archer and Syngaard hoped that by standing between the bowmen here on the ground he'd be less susceptible to being shot at. That turned out to be not that effective a tactic, as the archers moved quickly into position to shoot at the bald fighter from all angles, but perhaps due to shattered nerves from the sudden arrival of the griffon in their midst, most of the arrows missed their marks, even at this close distance. Syngaard merely smiled evilly at their failure to bring him down and brought his human bane scimitar up for the attack - for Daleth had warned the others over the shared mental link, before Dick landed among them, that these were humans they'd be dealing with among the archers.

Up on the city wall, Daleth couldn't see the ethereal cavalryman fast approaching him - but he could see the troops on the ground below and sent an empowered fireball spell exploding among the easternmost archers and several of the infantry forces being squeezed by the ebon tentacles of his earlier-cast spell. None of the victims of this second attack spell dropped but the elf's keen hearing heard their cries of pain and even in the wan moonlight he could see the burn scars blistering on the faces of the archers who had been encompassed in the spell's blast.

Kaspar ran past the falling infantryman slain by Burt and before the corpse hit the ground the monk was already in place directly in front of the nearest archer. He feinted an attack with his hand but didn't even touch the enemy; it was just an attempt - a quite successful one at that - to direct the bowman's attention away from the fact that a giant stag beetle had just manifested behind him, summoned into existence by the monk's mental will. John's crushing mandibles soon let the archer in on the secret, though, as the beetle bit the bowman around the waist from behind.

On the Ethereal Plane, Orion backed away from the charging lancer and returned to the Material Plane with Carl, passing on what she'd seen to the others over the telepathic bond she was now once again a part of. She also partook of the other advantage a Rary's telepathic bond spell provided over talking aloud: she was able to communicate the danger to the others while simultaneously chugging down a potion of cure serious wounds. She felt the gash in her side, where she'd been struck by the magic lance, seal up and was confident there would be no scar.

But the lancer and his ghost-mount followed Orion and Carl to the Material Plane, where he immediately set his sights on Galen. Manifesting as he did in mid-charge, the paladin had no time to prepare a defense and was almost unseated himself, especially as Burt wore no saddle. But despite being unable to defend himself from the charge, Galen was more than able to counterattack and the sword of Zehkar channeled a smite evil attack into the Ossirnan cavalryman. Burt finished the man off, pulling him from the saddle with his claws and biting his throat out. The ghost-horse, now riderless, responded by shunting back to the relative safety of the Ethereal Plane, where he watched disinterestedly at the events playing out all around him.

"Blondie-Bitch" shot at Syngaard several times as he advanced upon her but each arrow merely bounced harmlessly off his shield. "You're gonna pay for that!" Syngaard promised, continuing his advance. Behind him, Dick finished off the archer he'd initially attacked upon landing. Syngaard brought his scimitar in on a sideways approach, cutting deep into Blondie-Bitch's side as she fruitlessly tried backing away. The look of pain crossing her face acted as a balm to the scarred fighter, soothing away the pain of the hits he'd taken thus far from her and her archer goons.

And then an as-yet-unseen player entered the battle arena: from 30 feet in the air, a wavering form took shape as Ludwig Von Sanguise dropped out of the invisibility spell that had thus far been shielding him from sight. He cast a banishment spell at Burt, who snarled in anger as he suddenly began to discorporate, the atoms making up his leonine body departing the Material Plane and reassembling back on the Beastlands. Galen dropped to the ground, landing lightly on his feet with his longsword ready for action despite this sudden setback.

Orion had gotten a good look at the sudden spellcaster and relayed a description to the others over the link. <He's undead - probably a vampire!> she reported. <Wearing a black cloak with blue trim, too: an Azure Glade necromancer, surely!> Galen squinted in disdain at the undead thing; bad enough to be a vampire, but to dabble in the necromantic arts as well? He didn't deserve the semblance of life his undead form gave him.

Realizing he was out of range for most of the spells he could cast to be effective, Daleth's next action was to cast a fly spell on himself and head out into the air towards the undead necromancer. Todd flapped his wings and tailed his master, flying under his own power. But down on the ground, the frantic cries of the bowman being eaten alive by John caused his fellow archers to pivot and attack the giant stag beetle. However, their marksmanship in the face of these large monsters in their midst was less than they would have liked and John survived the ranged assault. He continued biting his current target, confident in his carapace's ability to keep him relatively safe.

Kaspar sent a final blow to John's prey, snapping his neck, and stepped forward to the next archer in line, sending several punches and lightning-fast kicks his way. Before he had a chance to even try to defend himself, this second bowman was also dropping to the ground, dead.

It looked like the boys had things well in hand on this front, so Orion sent Carl phasing back to the Ethereal Plane so she could try to go stop that second rider. Assuming he'd already breached the city wall, she sent Carl forward through the wall at top speed and was able to see the ghost-horse about to run through the wall of a nearby building. Realizing the horse would likely be easier to kill than its rider, she sent an electrified dagger flying at a nexus of negative energy centered in the ghost's chest. The sudden sneak attack worked; the horse dissipated to nothingness, leaving the rider to fall face-first to the ground. I know what that feels like, Orion thought to herself, watching the now-horseless rider pick himself up and look around in vain for his mount. With a look of panic on his face at the realization he now had no way off the Ethereal Plane - something else with which the little halfling could relate - he raced back the way he'd come, running through the outer city wall hoping to find his cavalry partner.

Blondie-Bitch was having no luck attacking Syngaard at close range, although his shield was gaining a nice collection of her arrows. With a sudden burst of speed, the bald fighter raced forward, bringing his human bane scimitar through the archer's torso and out her back. "Picked the wrong side, lady!" he sneered, putting his boot to her stomach to help wrest his blade from her body. She pitched backwards, dead, her fancy longbow falling at her side.

But then Syngaard took a moment to look around him and saw the vampire spellcaster in the air and Galen, the conscript best suited to fighting undead creatures, stranded on the ground. "Dick!" called the fighter. "Go to Galen!" The griffon screeched his understanding, flapped his mighty wings, and landed beside the armored paladin, tucking in the wing closest to Galen, the better to allow him to leap onto Dick's broad back. Galen mounted the griffon, casting a death ward spell upon himself as he did so, seeing as he was about to face a vampire necromancer in combat.

But before Dick could take flight, the vampire cast a fireball spell down at the group much more powerful than any Daleth had ever cast. (This, Daleth would later explain, was because it was a delayed blast fireball cast without any actual delay - a more powerful version of the spell.) Galen winced under the blast but was partially shielded by his resist fire spell; John and Dick were not so protected and both disappeared at once, the beetle being restored in Kaspar's magic amulet while the griffon reverted back to figurine form and dropped to the ground at Galen's feet. Kaspar landed on his own feet at the same time, having leaped into the air as the spell was cast and spinning in place in such a way to completely avoid any fire damage whatsoever.

Daleth cast a prismatic spray spell such that it caught the vampire in the air as well as a group of the infantrymen still entwined in the Evard's black tentacles spell. Several of the ground forces were instantly put out of their misery: one by lightning, another by acid, a third by a combination of both energy types. Yet another soldier's mind snapped by the spell's effects, slipping into insanity rather than face this poor reality any more. Unfortunately, of all possible effects that could have hit the floating vampire, the one that struck him was completely ineffectual, given the undead body's complete immunity to any form of poison.

The last remaining archer tried once again to take down Syngaard, but was slain by Kaspar instead for his efforts, having focused so much on the scarred fighter that he lost track of the quick-moving monk in the vicinity - a mistake he'd never make again.

Popping ethereally through the city wall, Orion saw the unhorsed cavalryman running over to the slain rider's ghost-horse, hoping for a way back to the Material Plane. Orion decided at once to deprive him of his last remaining way back by slaying the ghost-horse in the same way she'd killed the first one. Seeing this, the armored rider dropped to his knees, threw his flaming lance to the ground at his side, and put his hands on his head. "I surrender!" he called to Orion. "Don't leave me trapped here! Please: take me back with you!" The halfling accepted his surrender but insisted he remove his armor and clothing before she'd approach. She wasn't about to be taken unawares of any hidden shenanigans. With a look of distaste, the rider slowly got to his feet and started removing his armor, tossing each piece to the ground while Orion watched, an electrified dagger out and ready to throw if he tried anything.

Galen dove to the ground in case the vampire tried sending any other spells flying his way. He regained his feet with a triumphant grin - and Syngaard's Dick in his hand. Rubbing the figuring of wondrous power briskly, the griffon once again resumed its animal form and the paladin leaped upon its back. With the flapping of his powerful wings, the beast was airborne, flying up at the hovering vampire. Dick snapped his beak at Ludwig, who scooted back enough in midair to avoid the indignity of being bitten by a griffon. Then he took advantage of the proximity of a potential mind-slave and focused his mental will upon Galen, trying to dominate him. "Attack your friends," the vampire commanded - but Galen was having none of it; his mind was his own! And then a gray beam of arcane energy came blasting into the vampire's side: a disintegrate spell cast by Daleth. The spell was quite effective - and had Ludwig not fortified himself with a false life spell of his own before making his initial attack on Durnhill's defenders he would have been slain outright.

One of the infantrymen who had been caught up in the Evard's black tentacles spell finally managed to extricate himself from the crushing appendages and staggered away from the spell's area of effect. But Syngaard was there in a flash, bringing his human bane scimitar crashing down on the hapless warrior. He staggered, bouncing off Syngaard's shield and attempting to run away back to the south, back to the sheltering confines of Ossirna - only to feel a sudden, sharp, piercing pain in his neck, and then nothing but blissful slumber. He didn't feel the ground coming up to smash him in the face as he collapsed bonelessly to the ground, nor did he see the pseudodragon land by his side, smirking in silent satisfaction with his tail-strike attack; he didn't even feel a thing when Syngaard's human bane scimitar deftly removed his head and neck from his shoulders with a well-placed blow. Of all the invaders, his was the most pleasant death, occurring as it was within the comforting effects of Todd's sleep venom.

Seeing the aerial battle between Galen, Dick, and the vampire spellcaster some 30 feet above him, Kaspar reached absently into his robes and removed a handful of pointed shuriken. Infusing each with fire and electricity from his tenryutsume, he let them fly up at the undead spellcaster, whose body - so recently attacked by a disintegrate spell - collapsed into mist upon the small swarm of shuriken the elven monk sent flying into the vampire's body. Surprised at the sudden loss of his sparring partner, Galen brought Dick back down for a landing; while riding a griffon wasn't fundamentally that different from riding a dire lion into battle, the paladin was much more experienced with ground combat and wasn't prepared to take a fall from any measurable height.

The only remaining members of the Ossirnan strike force were still being slowly crushed to death by the Evard's black tentacles spell; killing them off was a simple matter, made all the more attractive when Orion and Carl suddenly reappeared on the Material Plane with a nearly-naked prisoner (who held onto Carl's saddle so he could be taken back through the border between the planes) willing to spill his guts about everything he knew. Unfortunately, he didn't know much save for this group's orders: attack the South Gate, spill into the city, and loot what could be found.

However, as the conscripts started removing the armor from their slain foes and gathering up their weapons, Daleth gave a whistle of surprise. "For such a small strike team, they were spectacularly equipped: just about all of their weapons and armor is magical!" he exclaimed.

"Valuable?" asked Syngaard.

"Quite."

"Well okay then!" Syngaard whooped. "Turns out this was a paying mission after all!"

"And quite lucrative at that," offered up Orion, giving the laid-out armor and weapons an appraising eye. "We'll fetch a small fortune - each - from all of this loot!"

"Hell, maybe we oughtta send word back to Ossirna and ask 'em to come attack us like this every week!" enthused Syngaard.

- - -

No kidding, this was our greatest single-adventure payout in the history of the entire campaign thus far, with each of the five PCs walking away with 34,263 gp when all was said and done. (And that was on top of keeping some of the stuff for the PCs: Carl got some ethereal barding, Galen kept one of the +1 flaming lances, and Orion got a +2 amulet of natural armor out of the deal.) But besides that, there were other aspects of this adventure that I really enjoyed:

1. The fact that the attackers came to us in waves, so that we weren't able to take them all down at once.
2. The fact that Orion got some time in the spotlight on the Ethereal Plane, taking down enemies none of the rest of us could touch (or were even aware of at first).
3. That Logan got to "share my pain" about that damned Evard's black tentacles spell. (In the campaign that I run, Dan plays a wizard who habitually uses that spell to take down great quantities of the enemies I throw at the party.)

ADVENTURE 52: BLOOD AND TEARS

PC Roster:
Game Session Date: 3 July 2019

- - -

The sun was at its highest point in the sky when the screaming began. Of course, this was not readily apparent to the citizens of Durnhill, for the sun had been hidden behind a heavy, foreboding layer of dark clouds the whole morning. But when the heavy clouds finally burst, covering the city not in a downpour of cleansing rain but rather of cascading drops of blood - well, then somehow screaming seemed a most natural response.

Not surprisingly, the blood cascade was followed almost immediately by a summons from Skevros, assembling the conscripts together to see to this unexpected threat. For Galen, Orion, Kaspar, and Daleth, this simply meant a trip downstairs from their apartments above the Enchanted Flagon, and while the halfling simply descended through the floor on her ghost-dog Carl, the others took the back stairs - and thus were exposed to the sanguine rain.

Syngaard, however, was at Mama Kat's when the call came through. Dashing out into the dripping rain of blood, he approached the fountain - a familiar landmark on his way to the closed tavern that served as the conscripts' secret headquarters - and was surprised to see it pumping blood, not water as usual. Furthermore, there were four pillars flanking the fountain at its corners, each capped with a large crystal at top and bottom. But perhaps more importantly was the pale-skinned woman standing out in the crimson downpour, smiling as if having expected Syngaard to pass by this way.

"Gather your friends," she purred to him as he approached cautiously, morningstar in hand. "I would speak to you all."

"Friends?" queried Syngaard as if the concept were a new one to him.

"The group that serves your king's adviser," she reiterated. "I have a task I want you to perform - and it's one you'll want to perform, I guarantee."

"You responsible for this bloody rain?" Syngaard countered, eliciting only a knowing smirk from the woman the bald fighter felt was almost certainly a vampire. "You shut off this rain and I'll go gather the others." With a carefree shrug, the pale woman nodded her head and the cascade slowed to a drizzle and then stopped altogether. Puddles of blood in the streets brought a more crimson hue to the city than was usual, but at least Syngaard could now see more than 20 feet around him as had been the case during the downpour.

"I'll be back," Syngaard promised, backing off in the direction of the Enchanted Flagon, not wanting to turn away from the bloodsucker where she could do something without his knowing it.

"I'll be here," the vampiress replied. Once at a sufficient distance, Syngaard turned and ran the rest of the way to the tavern, his boots splashing through bloody puddles.

Bursting into the Enchanted Flagon minutes later, Syngaard passed his tale to the others. "It would seem you have already solved the problem on your own," Skevros mused, dropping a handful of emeralds on the table, his intended payment for the conscripts finding out the cause of the unnatural weather and putting a stop to it. "I suppose we should go and see what this woman wants." Syngaard took the time to snag up his emerald, the others following suit.

Skevros accompanied the conscripts to the fountain; for once, the action was occurring within the confines of the kingdom of Durnhill and he was able to attend without triggering the mark of justice on his forehead that would slay him if he stepped outside its boundaries. On the way, anticipating potential combat, Daleth cast a stoneskin spell upon himself and his pseudodragon familiar Todd, and Orion passed him a scroll of the same spell to gain the same benefit. As they approached the fountain - now back to pumping water in a spray, not blood - the Blood Queen raised a hand and warned them, "Any hostile actions against me will forfeit the life of my hostage. I believe you know her: Leorna, the Guildmistress of Illusionists from the Azure Glade." None of the conscripts with hands on weapons sheathed them at this announcement, but neither did they press the attack.

"I have a way to permanently deal with the lich Alexandros," cooed the Blood Queen, "but I need your help to implement my plan."

"This a payin' mission?" Syngaard interrupted.

"Is not the permanent destruction of the Mithral Mage payment enough?" asked the vampiress.

"Killin' him's a good payment. Killin' him and getting some gold on top's even better."

"Well, let's see if you can even kill him first and then we'll see about any potential bonuses. If you are interested in hearing more, I have erected these structures" - and here she waved a hand to indicate the four pillars flanking the fountain - "to block the dimensional anchoring effect you have in place around the city, so we can go to a more private location to discuss our business."

"What's wrong with right here?" demanded Galen.

"Silly boy," smirked the Blood Queen. "We don't know who all is listening out here in the open, do we?"

"Where is this 'private location' of yours?" asked Skevros, indicating the four pillars.

"Somewhere, I fear, outside the borders of your little kingdom. My discussion will have to be with your minions - you cannot come with us." This announcement was met with skepticism and distrust by the conscripts - especially Orion, who didn't like the looks of this "Blood Queen" one bit - but Skevros eventually allowed it was possible she was on the up-and-up and if there were any way to further their goals of stopping the Mithral Mage, it was worth investigating. "Besides," he added, "if she's lying you have my leave to slay her."

"If you're ready, then, simply step into the fountain," the Blood Queen continued, doing so herself and disappearing from view. "Good luck," said Skevros, stepping back. Kaspar walked willingly into the fountain, also disappearing. Galen gripped his sword of Zehkar and followed suit, with Syngaard, Orion and Carl, and Daleth and Todd entering in their wake. Syngaard made sure to grumble about getting his boots wet before he vanished with the others.

The group arrived on a large stage in a vast auditorium, with several everburning torches providing dim illumination. There were thick curtains behind them, and ahead, sitting in one of the seats in the fourth row back from the stage and adjacent to the central aisle bisecting the audience area, sat the Blood Queen, a wicked smirk on her face.

"What--?" began Galen, turning to look at the Blood Queen standing beside him on the stage, but this one quickly dropped the illusion surrounding her form and revealed herself to be none other than Leorna - but the glazed look in her eyes suggested her will was not her own. Casting a quickened dimension door spell, Leorna disappeared from the stage and into the seat beside the Blood Queen. She proffered her right hand to her mistress and the vampiress took it in her own.

"I must apologize for the subterfuge," said the true Blood Queen, Larithiana. "I do indeed have a way to get rid of the lich Alexandros, but I will require your blood to summon his soul from his phylactery. I must also destroy your souls to create the medium with which to forcibly resurrect him back to life so he may embrace the gift he so callously rejected nearly a millennia ago." Syngaard's scarred brow furrowed as he tried to follow. That dead guy, Osleth, had said the conscripts could destroy the Mithral Mage's phylactery from within, but it would mean having to die to do so. But then they could be resurrected back to life - this didn't sound like the same plan at all!

"So Alexandros would no longer be a lich - he'd be a vampire," Galen restated. "That hardly seems an improvement."

"From your point of view, perhaps not," Larithiana agreed. She snapped her fingers and ten black tendrils sprouted from the ceiling and dropped behind the back curtains.

Kaspar was the first to react. Holding a hand to the amulet around his neck, he caused the spirit of John, the giant stag beetle residing within, to manifest beside him. Then he sprinted forward, ready to attack the vampire from the front. But this plan came to a sudden halt as the elven monk crashed face-first into an invisible barricade blocking the front of the wooden stage. "Wall of force!" he called out to the others.

"Let's see if we can go over it!" Syngaard cried, whipping out his Dick. The griffon achieved full size in a moment and the bald fighter leaped upon his broad back, coaxing him up to the ceiling height, some 30 feet above the stage. But probing with his morningstar showed the invisible wall of energy reached all the way to the top - there was no way through it, unless Wizard-Pants had some dispelling magic on hand. He called down to Daleth and got his negative reply.

Of course he don't, scoffed Syngaard to himself. Stupid wizard never has the spells we need at hand - like, ever! But Daleth did have a Rary's telepathic bond spell at the ready and cast it, grouping the conscripts' minds together in a mental communication link. <Gather up!> he commanded. <I can teleport us over to the Blood Queen, but we all need to be touching!> Galen stepped to the wizard's side and dropped a hand on the elf's shoulder, casting a dispel evil spell upon himself in the meantime for good measure.

Then, suddenly, the back curtains exploded outwards toward the stage and two figures emerged. Each was a rotting corpse, zombielike in appearance, but with black tendrils attached to their wrists, ankles, and head, reaching up to the ceiling. The overall effect was that of a pair of macabre marionettes. One was dressed in robes while the other wore naught but a loincloth and carried a heavy greatclub.

Orion wasn't taking any chances, nor did she have to wait for Daleth to teleport her over to the other side of the wall of force with the others. With a kick of her legs, she indicated to Carl she wanted him to drop down through the floor. Shunting to the Ethereal Plane the ghost-dog did just that, then raced forward, beneath the wall of force and into the orchestra pit immediately before the stage. Then, spotting their intended prey, Carl raced forward, directly for the Blood Queen - who, by now, had taken Leorna's proffered arm and raised the elf's wrist to her mouth, drinking deeply of her life-blood. Neither figure gave any indication of being aware of Orion and Carl's approach; apparently vampires couldn't see onto the Ethereal Plane - good to know!

Then a spell went ripping through the conscripts on stage. It was a cone of cold, cast by one of the macabre marionettes, the one wearing a wizard's robes. The spell affected all but Kaspar, whose monk training allowed him to twist his body and avoid the blast entirely, but none so much as Dick, 30 feet in the air, whose feathers were immediately covered in a layer of frost as the blast struck the griffon full-force. Syngaard realized his flying mount was about to revert back to statuette form; Dick flapped vigorously back down to the stage, blinking out of existence at the last moment, but Syngaard was able to reach down and grab up the figurine of wondrous power before it struck the floor. He landed lightly back on the stage, his boots of levitation kicking in as needed.

John bit at the zombie mage in retaliation, but although the great insect's wicked mandibles stabbed deep into the undead flesh, still it stood standing. This, Kaspar decided, was no ordinary zombie - as if its spellcasting ability hadn't been enough of an indicator. But, deciding to see if it could withstand a flurry of blows powered by the monk's tenryutsume, Kaspar sent his fists flying into the puppet-mage's face, shoulder, and arms, and soon enough got his answer: no, as it turned out, it could not withstand such an onslaught. The undead mage slumped forward, hanging motionless from the black strings dangling from the ceiling.

The other marionette raised its club with both hands and as it did so two axe-blades of crackling, negative energy erupted from the club's business end. A vicious series of blows commenced upon Kaspar, the monk managing to dodge some but not all of the blade's strikes. Syngaard swung his morningstar at the zombie's head but missed, his weapon getting caught up in the black cord rising from one of the undead barbarian's hands.

But by now the conscripts were assembled close enough for Daleth to reach out to Kaspar and activate his teleport spell; the monk, anticipating the action, touched John's carapace as well. As a group, the conscripts vanished from the stage and reappeared in the rows of seats behind the Blood Queen and her dominated slave. Galen hopped over the intervening seats, trying to get not to the vampire but rather to Leorna. Dropping a hand to the elf's shoulder, he sent the energy of his dispel evil spell coursing through his arm and into the elf's body, freeing her from the Blood Queen's domination. With a cry of rage, Leorna stood and pulled her bleeding wrist from Larithiana's grasp. The Blood Queen rose as well, but before the vampiress could react to this effrontery Orion's nightflame short sword burst through her midsection - Carl had run up around her, manifested back onto the Material Plane, and the halfling's mystically-enhanced vision allowed her to backstab the vampire in the middle of a nexus of necromantic energy coursing through her undead flesh.

The Blood Queen was not at all amused by the sudden change to her plans of watching her enemies be destroyed by her undead minions on stage while she watched with a handy snack at hand.

Back on stage, the barbarian marionette ran through a side door to the stage's left side while the puppet-mage, earlier slain by Kaspar, was brought back to an unholy mockery of life by the necromantic energies coursing down through its black puppet-strings. It righted itself from its unmoving crouch and followed he barbarian through the side door, a way around the wall of force intended to keep the conscripts from throwing spells or weapons at the Blood Queen as she watched them die on stage.

Kaspar sent a flurry of blows at the Blood Queen and was quite surprised when she managed to avoid most of them - this woman was quick! John got in a bite as well, but his massive mandibles didn't seem to concern her any more than they had the puppet-mage. Then the vampire pulled two blades from the scabbards she wore at her belt and, faster than the others could follow, sent the longsword slashing out at Orion in a series of deep cuts while her short sword went stabbing multiple times at Syngaard, who had stepped up to the Blood Queen and sent several powerful swings at her with his other morningstar - the one that blazed with the light of the burning sun. It was a dizzying flashing of blades and spikes, with similar results to all concerned: Orion dropped, bleeding profusely from several deep gashes, from her ghost-dog's saddle to lie in a quickly-spreading pool of her blood, her pulse flickering to a stop; Syngaard spat up blood from his mouth and toppled forward, the deep stabs through his torso causing cascades of his own life's blood to gush down the front of his stomach and legs in rivulets; Larithiana, in the meantime, screamed in absolute horror as Pelor's life-affirming sunlight emanated from Syngaard's weapon-head and infused its way into her undead flesh, burning her from within. She didn't crash to the floor as did her two current battle-foes, but only because her body burst into exploding mist that burned away in the sunlight effect from Syngaard's secondary morningstar.

An eerie tingling feeling filled the room. <I think it's a summoning effect,> suggested Daleth, yet nothing appeared to have been summoned. <A failed one, anyway,> he amended, before casting a wall of fire before the first row of seating to prevent the macabre marionettes, who had just stumbled down a small set of steps towards the audience area, from being able to reach them.

Leorna grabbed a potion from her belt and bent over Orion's unmoving form, quickly removing the cork and pouring the healing elixir down the halfling's throat. Orion sputtered and coughed, a sure sign that death had been evaded - even if just barely. Galen sent healing energy through his hands and into Syngaard's body - also on the very brink of death - closing up his internal wounds from the vampire's blade. "Damn!" swore the scarred fighter as he sat up and retrieved his dropped weapons. "That Blood Queen was fast - like, Kaspar-level fast!"

Two bulges in the wall of fire spell indicated the blazing arrival of the puppet-things, although bursting through the roaring flames as they did had burned away the black cords that had dangled from them - not that they were at all necessary in animating these corpse creatures, as it turned out. They didn't last long, however, the barbarian being slain almost at once by Kaspar while Daleth took the other one down with a delayed blast fireball (no delay needed), the elf having seen how effective fire was to these undead creatures.

"Guess that's it," grunted Syngaard, a bit ticked that he didn't get to take out his anger at having almost being slain on anyone. He satisfied himself with assisting in the looting of the stiffs while Leorna filled the group in on what had occurred. She'd been ambushed one night with a mind fog spell which had severely inhibited her ability to fight off the Blood Queen's domination. From that point on, she'd been the vampiress's mental slave, taking her likeness and luring the conscripts here where Larithiana had intended to slay them and turn the Mithral Mage first back to a human, then into her vampiric thrall.

"What was that spell effect immediately upon her death?" Daleth inquired.

"The Blood Queen had a contingency spell in effect upon her," the illusionist explained. "It was to have summoned her 'children' - her current vampiric spawn - to her upon her death."

"So why didn't they show up?" asked Galen.

"As to that, I cannot say," admitted Leorna.

"Any idea exactly where the Hell we are?" Syngaard asked, stuffing the various weapons into a bag of holding. They'd decided to turn them over to Skevros, who could likely siphon off the spell energy and redistribute it among the conscripts' own weapons. All, that was, but for the negative energy greataxe - that, they jointly decided to destroy.

"North of the Baator's Breath Mountains," Leorna explained.

"We ever been here before?" Syngaard asked.

"No."

"It worth our while to check the place out?"

"Unlikely."

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Okay, let's get outta here." Kaspar pulled the ring of return from his robes and the conscripts - and Leorna - each grabbed a hold on the six-inch metal circle. Than Kaspar invoked its magic and they teleported just outside the city's gates.

During the walk back to the Enchanted Flagon, Syngaard noticed the puddles were all back to being just water. "Where'd all the blood go?" he asked.

"There was never any blood," Leorna answered. "That was all just an illusion - one of my more powerful ones, in fact."

Syngaard just shook his head. Wizards! he thought. Crazy, every last one of them!

- - -

Logan used the Paizo "Theater" Flip-Mat for this adventure, which didn't turn out to be anything at all like we had expected. He'd leaked the title to us ahead of time, so we had anticipated this was going to be the fight with the Mithral Mage where we were all going to put up valiant efforts but ultimately be slain. Obviously, that didn't happen - but we did get to take out the head of a faction of the Seekers of Eternity - and quite permanently at that, for Syngaard's solar energy morningstar not only affects undead flesh (instead of passing through it like the normal brilliant energy magic weapon property), but can also permanently kill any undead with a particular vulnerability to sunlight who is slain by the weapon.

A funny thing about that, too: Logan made the Blood Queen a 20th-level fighter as well as a vampire and loaded her up on fighter feats which allowed her to deal extra damage with longswords and short swords. He had her attack Orion with her longsword and dropped the halfling to below her Constitution score in negative numbers, but we play with a homebrew rule that states that as long as you can get her healed to above her negative Constitution score (in her case, above -14) before her next turn in the initiative roster, she'll be stabilized. We were all so focused on that - and in assuring Vicki that we'd be able to get to Orion in time (although I took the opportunity to jokingly hint that Syngaard might be seriously considering wrestling Galen to the ground to prevent him from getting to "the blasted halfling" in time), that Logan forgot about the Blood Queen's short sword attacks until Syngaard's turn in the initiative - at which point I had already killed her. So, not wanting to harm Orion any further, he decided he'd retroactively direct the vampire's short sword attacks at Syngaard. I told him to "bring it on" - and then watched in amazement at the vast collection of dice Logan gathered together to roll the damage after she'd managed to hit - and crit - me several times. Syngaard dropped down below his own "safety cap from death" of -16 hp as a result, and rather than "undo" his having slain her, we dropped back to the AD&D 2nd Edition concept of "simultaneous initiative" (which brought back fond reminiscences to Dan and I, who had both - as well as Logan - played in earlier versions of D&D and were familiar with the concept).

ADVENTURE 53: SIBLING RIVALRY

PC Roster:
Game Session Date: 24 July 2019

- - -

The fact that there were four shadowscale kobolds inside the Enchanted Flagon came as not much of a surprise to the conscripts; after all, there were such creatures camped out all over the city, refugees from the Sanguine Swamp to the south of the small kingdom. They had been pouring through the southern gates all night and morning and as allies of Durnhill, King Leornic had allowed them asylum.

The fact that there was a half-naked human woman standing among the quartet of kobolds in the tavern when they answered Skevros' summons was, admittedly, something more of a surprise. Even more so was the fact that she had curving horns sprouting up from her head (causing Galen to immediately focus his attention on her aura, suspecting a fiendish ancestry - but no, it was free of the taint of evil). But while the paladin was focused on her aura, Syngaard concentrated on her body - specifically, the fact that she sported splotchy patches of black scales among the otherwise human-looking skin. As he peered at her with narrow, distrusting eyes, he could have sworn the patches of discolored scales were moving their location, as sections of scales were replaced by areas of flesh and areas of human skin were slowly encompassed by black, reptilian hide.

"So what's your deal?" he asked. "You one of them half-dragons or somethin'?"

"I am Thriirnaryx, chieftain of the shadowscale tribe of kobolds," the woman replied, "and you have met me before. I am a full-blooded black dragon...I'm just having trouble maintaining a human appearance...this isn't as easy as it had looked...."

"So you're the one who gave us those magic items from your hoard," reasoned Orion. "When we took care of the druids turning the vegetation in your swamp blue, like in the Azure Glade."

"Hey, that's where I got my human bane scimitar!" recalled Syngaard, smiling and placing his hand on the weapon's hilt. "Good times."

"I summoned you here at Thriirnaryx's request," stated Skevros, having no trouble at all pronouncing the dragon's unusual name. "She would like to hire you for a dragonslaying venture."

"This a payin' mission?" Syngaard piped up - his favorite question.

"What part of 'hire' confused you?" asked Orion, her voice dripping with disdain.

"It is," the dragon-woman answered the bald fighter, before delving into the background of the mission. "There used to be three of us dragons living in the Sanguine Swamp: myself; my mother, Skavvanthar; and my older half-sister, Vuthaiejir. With our mother's recent death, Vuthaiejir has claimed the whole swamp for herself and gave me the choice of leaving or dying. As she is 800 years older than me and much more powerful, I had no choice but to leave. I took my kobold tribe with me here to Durnhill to protect them from my sister and to gain your aid in ridding the swamp of her menace once and for all."

"And the payment...?" prompted Syngaard.

"You may choose between the monetary portion or the magic portion of my sister's hoard - which now includes our mother's hoard as well." Thriirnaryx then broke down the list of items contained in the combined hoard: an improved shadow chain shirt, a magic greatsword, a potion of enlarge person, two rods of extinguishing, a ring of protection, a metamagic rod of extend spell, a staff of transmutation, a wand of wall of fire, and three books: an Iron Golem Manual, a Manual of Gainful Exercise, and a Tome of Understanding. "Had the tomes been written in Draconic, my mother would likely have already used them herself," said Thriirnaryx of the three magic books, "but her disdain for the mortal races kept her from doing so, though she wasn't above hoarding them for their magic value." After tallying up the estimated coinage of the hoard, the conscripts decided the magic items were the way to go: there were some things they could really use and the stuff they found less useful could always be sold or given to those capable of employing them on the front lines in the war against Ossirna.

"What can you tell us of Vuthaiejir?" asked Daleth, likewise having no trouble pronouncing the dragon's name. Syngaard scowled and assumed it must be a wizard thing - half them magic books they was always reading were written in the Draconic language, it seemed.

"She can cast the spells of a mid-level sorcerer and has a pet she takes with her everywhere she goes: a failed dragonslayer animated as a zombie."

"Zombie?" scoffed Syngaard. "Hell, that ain't nothin', compared to a black dragon. You sure you're okay with us killin' your sister? I don't want any last-minute changes of heart or nothin'."

"For the good of my adopted tribe, she must die," Thriirnaryx replied with narrowed eyes - eyes, Syngaard noted, that had regressed to having reptilian slits as pupils; apparently this "human form" business was something the black dragon really wasn't getting the hang of at all. Nevertheless, the bald fighter nodded in approval and wished it wasn't so early in the morning - it had only been eight bells when they got the summons - because he sure could use an ale right about now. Syngaard knew the next hour or so was going to be spent with the spellcasters deciding upon what spells they'd want to have ready.

"We'll want protection from acid," Galen suggested. "I can cover two of us with resist energy spells; Daleth, can you get the rest of us?" The elven wizard assured him he could, having not only that spell but also its more powerful version, protection from energy, detailed in his spellbook.

"I will take this time to scry upon Vuthaeijir," announced Skevros, waving a hand over the crystal ball before him on the table. Kaspar looked over the adviser's shoulder at the scene unfolding inside the sphere: an ancient black dragon, easily some 30 feet or more from nose to tail and with a wingspan at least that long, judging by the size of the zombie sitting astride the back of its neck. Unnervingly, the dragon immediately looked up at the scrying sensor brought into being by the crystal ball; she was certainly aware of the intrusion and didn't mind letting Skevros know that she knew he was watching her. The fact that she didn't seem in the least bit bothered by the intrusion was itself a point of potential worry.

"Her lair seems to be underground, in a dry cavern," observed Kaspar.

"Correct," replied Thriirnaryx. "It is accessible by some of those pools you see on the cavern's floors." There were several such pools of brackish water in view, as well as a few floor-to-ceiling columns formed by stalagmites and stalactites merging together as one. The elf noted one or two of them were likely big enough to shield the entire group from view of the dragon if they teleported in with a wide column between them and her.

After Galen completed his prayers and Daleth finished flipping through his spellbook, they both announced they were ready to start the pre-battle slew of spellcasting. Daleth, Todd, Galen, Kaspar, and Syngaard each got a protection from acid spell cast upon them by the elven wizard, while Orion and Burt - summoned by the paladin from the Beastlands - made do with resist acid spells cast by Galen. Daleth cast a Rary's telepathic bond spell on the group and then followed up with his personal collection of "save his own skin" spells: stoneskin, greater invisibility, and fly; personally, Syngaard thought there were others in the group who could have benefited more from those spells than the stay-in-the-back-ranks wizard, but that was spellcasters for you: always hoggin' the good stuff for themselves. Daleth did cast another stoneskin spell upon Orion, but as this was from a scroll that she provided the wizard (having been purchased for that purpose from her own funds), Syngaard couldn't fault the little halfling for her added protection. She also became invisible, courtesy of one of the magic rings she wore, while sitting in the ghost touch saddle of her faithful-even-in-undeath riding dog, Carl. She bent forward from the saddle and activated the stud on his collar, providing him with a false life spell that would hopefully keep him from being discorporated back into ectoplasmic mist, as had often been his fate. "I'm ready," she announced, unseen on the saddle.

Galen finished up his own spellcasting - a bless weapon spell cast on the sword of Zehkar and the spells magic circle against evil and death ward centered on himself - and announced his own readiness.

"Some of us been ready for the better part of an hour," grumbled Syngaard, swigging down the last gulp of ale that he'd had Karen fetch him after all - if he was going into battle with an ancient dragon this could very well be his last drink for a good long while! Then Skevros escorted the conscripts - along with Todd, Carl, Burt, John, and Dick, the latter two being summoned right before the group stepped outside the gates of the city - to their starting point, they got themselves into the configuration they wanted to be in when they arrived in the dragon's underground lair, and one teleport spell later they were gone.

The group appeared suddenly where Kaspar had suggested: with a wide, stone pillar hiding them from the black dragon's view. But their simple presence triggered a clamorous alarm spell Vuthaeijir had prepared for their eventual arrival: she might not know their exact location but she knew someone had suddenly appeared in her new lair.

Thinking to strike while the dragon might still be disoriented, Kaspar leaped into battle, dashing around the column at full speed and rapidly closing the distance between him and the foe he had been sent to slay. As he approached, he saw the "pet" zombie sitting perched upon the dragon's back, right at the point where her neck began. As the monk ran, he triggered a quivering palm reaction, focusing his chi into his right hand. This was an attack he'd only tried once or twice before and never before on a dragon, but the possibility of taking Vuthaeijir out with one hit was too good an opportunity to give up. But the dragon, given the seconds of advance warning from her alarm spell, managed to dodge back from the attempted blow enough that the monk's intended strike barely brushed against her scales, the chi energy dissipating harmlessly away. Behind him, Kaspar heard the skittering sound of John racing up, following his master's path to their enemy.

Daleth followed the monk's path as well, but with a slight difference: he did it invisibly and rose up higher into the air as he approached the dragon, hovering in place 30 feet from the floor but still with plenty of space above him. He cast a prismatic spray down at the dragon and her pet zombie, angling the spell such that Kaspar was not in the area of effect. And then he crossed his fingers; the spell was one of his most powerful, but its chaotic nature made it unpredictable - it could easily send a ray of acid at the black dragon, an energy form to which the elf well knew the dragon was immune.

However, the elf needn't have worried overly on that account, for the spell didn't even manage to overcome Vuthaeijir's inherent spell resistance; rather, the ray struck the dragon and had no effect whatsoever, short of causing her to squint into the air above her and try to determine the point of origin of the spell. She saw nothing, but knew that merely meant an invisible opponent.

However, despite its close proximity to the dragon, the zombie did not share her occasional immunity to spells and the ray that hit him caused his rotting, undead flesh to turn instantly to stone. Just that quick, the "pet" zombie perched on her back at the base of her neck became nothing more than a stone ornament.

Turning back to Kaspar, Vuthaeijir demanded, "Why are you here?"

<What should I tell her?> Kaspar asked the others over the telepathic link.

<Don't tell her nothing!> Syngaard replied. <Keep her guessing!>

Receiving no answer from the elven monk, the dragon snapped her powerful jaws at him and ripped her front claws along his torso with a speed Kaspar had not expected from a creature this large. "Leave or die!" commanded the dragon. "This is my only warning!"

As warnings went, it was particularly effective. Kaspar was bleeding from several parallel gashes along his torso and arms and staggered backwards, away from the foe who'd savaged him much more than he had thought was possible. As much as it galled him, he realized he needed to use his great speed to escape her immediate reach so he could concentrate on healing his current wounds, for another such attack would likely finish him!

Orion had originally thought to escape into the safety of the Ethereal Plane upon arriving in the dragon's lair, using Carl to position herself behind the dragon so she could later pop back in and deliver an unexpected blow from her nightflame short sword. But then she noticed the mass of coins, gems, and magic items littering the floor all around the dragon - Vuthaeijir, like many dragons, apparently liked having her treasure hoard scattered about her so she could appreciate the individual items on constant display. The halfling's thoughts drifted back to the last pair of dragons the group had fought, and how she'd pocketed a significant portion of their combined hoard while they slept.... The temptation was too great. She eased Carl silently forward, slipping open the top of her bag of holding, then leaned over to one side and snatched up the first thing of value she saw: one of the books, apparently - and it didn't really matter at this point which one. Dropping it into the extradimensional space of her magical bag, she sent Carl sneaking forward to the next appreciable bit of treasure.

Galen, sitting astride his dire lion Burt, came racing across from the other side of the stone column. He brought the sword of Zehkar crashing down upon the dragon's hide, drawing blood. He had verified the evilness of the dragon's aura during their charge and had therefore channeled energy from Hieroneous, God of Valor, into the blade. He grinned in satisfaction at the dragon's cries from the holy power of his sword. However, at his current level of training, he knew he could only do that a few more times this day, for the channeling of divine energy took a toll on the all-too-human body serving as a conductor for such powerful forces.

Burt's claws failed to pierce the dragon's thick scales, causing the lion to snort in anger and growl menacingly.

The last to react after having been teleported in, Syngaard and Dick came flying around the stone pillar in the middle of the dragon's underground lair. Syngaard sent the griffon diving down not at the dragon but rather at the petrified zombie astride her neck; pushing hard with both sets of front talons, Dick sent the undead statue toppling off the dragon's neck and falling to the stone floor below. "You're in my seat!" Syngaard called to the undead thing, leaping from Dick's back and landing at the base of Vuthaeijir's neck. The scarred fighter grabbed her left horn in his left hand for leverage and brought his powerful morningstar in a long arc to crash into the side of her head.

Dropping temporarily out of the fight, Kaspar used his circlet of blasting to send a wave of energy crashing into the dragon, then retreated to the relative safety of the stone column. He was disappointed to see Vuthaeijir shrug off the blast as easily as she had earlier shrugged off the effects of Daleth's prismatic spray spell. But such, the monk reasoned, were the hazards of fighting dragons.

Daleth dropped down from his aerial vantage point to slap the dragon's wing, transferring a touch of idiocy spell to her as he did so. He was pleased to see this spell at least had its intended effect, or so the elf supposed by the way Vuthaeijir shook her head in irritation at having her faculties scrambled. It didn't look as if the spell had done a whole lot of damage to her mental abilities, but at this stage Daleth decided he'd take anything he could get.

With a sudden lurch, Vuthaeijir sped forward and submerged her front half into a pool of brackish water, hoping to drown the annoying pest on her back. But Syngaard had seen the approaching pool of water and, keeping a firm grip on the dragon's left horn, took in a big gulp of air before being submerged. Vuthaeijir also spent the time casting a burning blood spell upon herself. Orion looked up briefly at the nearby commotion, then continued stuffing magic items into her bag of holding. This was starting to become a habit for her: stealing from dragons while they were right there in the same chamber as she was!

Burt followed behind Vuthaeijir, allowing Galen to get in a smiting charge with his longsword. The lion's sharp claws managed to dig furrows into the dragon's flank, but the attacks - the lion's claws and the paladin's sword of Zehkar - triggered the dragon's spell and the blood spilling from her onto her foes burned them with acid. This might have been a concern had the paladin and his mount not both been shielded from acid damage by the preparatory spells they'd had cast upon them before combat began.

Orion heard scratching noises coming from the zombie statue, which was somewhat unnerving. <Uh, guys?> she called over the link. <I think that undead guy's still alive in there! Did only his flesh get turned to stone and now the skeleton's trying to get out from inside? I seriously have no idea how this stuff works!>

<That...is not normal,> Daleth confirmed.

Still holding his breath underwater, Syngaard got in a few good whacks with his morningstar, no doubt causing Vuthaeijir to rethink her current strategy. In the meantime, Dick flew around behind John - who was still scrabbling to catch up to the dragon - and grabbed the edges of his carapace in his talons and hind claws. Then the griffon airlifted the stag beetle over to the black dragon, dropping John onto one wing before snapping at the other with his own eagle's beak. Vuthaeijir flapped her wings in irritation, but the two beasts continued their attacks, refusing to be flicked away. The still-invisible Daleth cast another touch of idiocy spell at Vuthaeijir, this time causing much more of an effect than the first time. Vuthaeijir roared in impotent fury beneath the water of the pool as entire levels of spells were stripped from her mind, no longer strong enough to contain them.

Closing his eyes in concentration and focusing his chi energy, Kaspar used it to heal up the worst of the damage caused by Vuthaeijir's claws and teeth. Then, refreshed and eager for further battle, the elven monk approached the dragon's current position.

Syngaard was still pounding away at the side of the dragon's head when he felt himself being plucked from her neck. <--the Hell?> he called, not having expected the dragon to be able to reach behind her own neck with her forelimbs. She disdainfully tossed him aside in the water, expecting the weight of his armor to pull him down to the bottom of the submerged shaft, where he'd no doubt drown before he could wriggle out of it. She did not expect him to remain where he was in the water, his boots of levitation - activated by mental command - preventing him from sinking. In fact, he raised himself up high enough for his head to poke up above the water's surface so he no longer even needed to hold his breath. And in the meantime, Galen and Burt kept the dragon's focus on them as they continued their attacks with fangs, claws, and magical longsword.

Worried about whatever it was inside that petrified zombie-skin, Orion took time out from her hoard-plundering to send a tanglefoot bag splurtching over the undead thing. That seemed to do the trick, as it was now pinned in place atop the stone floor of the cavern. But the silence from the imprisoned form now stuck inside a petrified zombie-skin and glued to the floor was due to him considering his options. Arcane syllables spilled from his teeth, and while Orion couldn't determine what specific spell the thing was casting, she was able to identify it as some sort of spellcasting. <Guys!> she called over the link as the mithral skeleton disappeared from within the stone statue of the zombie dragonslayer's flesh and reappeared on the floor several feet away, still lying prone on it back.

"Much better!" said the Mithral Mage to himself, rising up to a sitting position.

<Alexandros!> warned Kaspar over the link, having seen the lich's sudden arrival on the cavern floor. He changed course immediately; the others could deal with the dragon but he wasn't about to let Orion face off against the Mithral Mage all by herself! Thoughts flashed through his brain as he sped toward their hated foe: this might very well be the day the Mithral Mage killed the conscripts, inadvertently allowing them to attack the osteovox cloud serving as his phylactery from the inside. That, at least, had been Hirek's plan, and as part of that plan the conscripts were to give it their all against Alexandros, despite the unlikelihood that their best would be good enough to prevent their deaths.

<We still gotta deal with the dragon if we're gonna get paid!> pointed out Syngaard. He was fine with fighting the Mithral Mage; he was even okay with being slain by him so they could take down his phylactery (something they could apparently only do while dead; the details didn't make a whole lot of sense to the fighter, but the bottom line was this was something that had to be done if he was ever going to get to see Mezz again in the afterlife and that made it perfectly okay to Syngaard). But this was a paying job: they needed to take down this Voothajeer or whatever before they got killed by the Mithral Mage! With that thought in mind, Syngaard rose up on his boots of levitation and brought his morningstar crashing down yet again into the dragon's side, the points of his wicked weapon stabbing through the beast's thick scales. He also called to Dick to quit chewing on her wing and go mess up her face; even though he doubted the griffon could deal the dragon much damage, he could at least serve as a barrier if she tried spitting out that acid breath she was supposed to have.

Kaspar sent his right fist, powered by the tenryutsume he wore on that hand, crashing into the Mithral Mage's jaw, causing his whole skeleton to whip to the side by the force of the blow. That was more like it! It was definitely easier than trying to punch through the ancient dragon's heavy scales. Orion tossed a thunderstone at the lich's side, trying to deafen him - it had proven to be an effective tactic when fighting other spellcasters. But this time it didn't seem to do the job, for Alexandros got to his feet and grabbed at Kaspar's robe, taking a reeling blow to the skull again as he did so. But Kaspar resisted the attempted paralyzation and the two faced off, facing each other like boxers in the ring.

Daleth brought out the big guns, casting a cone of cold up at Vuthaeijir from just beneath her head, ensuring she was the only one caught in the spell's effect. She reacted, perhaps instinctively, by trying to spew a stream of acid from her horrid jaws, but Dick was there to block the breath weapon, taking the full damage himself. Fur and feathers from his underside burned away at the touch of the acidic fluid.

Galen summoned the power of Hieroneous for the last time that day and sent the energy coursing through his longsword, smiting the dragon a mighty blow on her flank. Syngaard continued his own attacks, transforming a section of her right side into hunks of bloody flesh. Daleth repeated his recent success, sending another cone of cold spell blasting through the dragon's spell resistance and coating her bleeding body in frost. Vuthaeijir turned and spit acid at the offenders, but Dick was there to block the acidic blast, although doing so caused him to seize up in midair and drop to the stone floor of the cavern in statuette form.

Kaspar's mood improved as he dealt a flurry of blows at the Mithral Mage, sending him stumbling under the force of his rapid-fire attacks. Then Orion decided to go for broke and sent a handful of four thunderstones crashing to the floor at Alexandros' feet. She knew there was a chance she'd be deafening Kaspar as well as the Mithral Mage, but she also knew the monk could deal with a loss of hearing much better than could a spellcaster who relied upon hearing the words to his spells as they were cast. Judging by the cry of anger coming from the mithral lich, at least one of the thunderstones did the trick.

Galen, Burt, and Syngaard pressed on with their attacks upon Vuthaeijir, neither of them noting the Mithral Mage taking a step back from Kaspar and lining himself up to cast a lightning bolt spell at the elven monk, the paladin and his leonine mount, and the scarred fighter...but fortunately, nothing came of the attempt as the spell fizzled to nothingness, Alexandros' deafness causing him to mess up one of the words to the spell. With his mithral-coated skull, there was no face upon which to read an expression, but the current of slurred curses gave a good indication of how Alexandros felt about this latest setback.

After another series of lightning-fast blows from the elven monk, Alexandros started fearing he might actually lose this battle - as unlikely an occurrence as that had seemed when he first approached Vuthaeijir and offered to be a hidden-in-plain-sight backup for her; it had seemed like an amusing way to pass the time. Still, he wasn't overly worried; even if they did manage to smash this current body to pieces, he'd simply remanifest in a week - it was one of the many advantages a lich had over a fleshly form, especially one that had been as weak and feeble as Alexandros' human frame.

With no more cone of cold spells in his current inventory, Daleth cast a chain lightning spell at Vuthaeijir. He looked over in Alexandros' direction before casting the spell, but quickly determined the lich was too far away to be included as a secondary target. Still, despite his oafish demeanor, Syngaard was quite right: they needed to kill Vuthaeijir if he was to get his hands on the items in her treasure hoard that were of particular interest to him; the Mithral Mage they could always fight again later, and even if he managed to kill all of the conscripts that would still be playing into their hands. Best to concentrate on slaying the dragon and pretending he was unaware of the lich's presence - at least for now.

Getting quickly fed up with this nonsense, Vuthaeijir reached down for the figurine of wondrous power on the floor of the cavern before her and gave it a quick rub with her forefoot. "Attack your former master!" she commanded as Dick took his full form for the second time that day. With a shriek of fury, the griffon launched itself at Syngaard. "--the Hell?" sputtered the scarred fighter as his own Dick attacked him, sharp talons clawing at the fighter's eyes.

Orion leaped down from the saddle of her ghost-dog and, using her magical vision, stabbed Alexandros in a juncture where several different lines of negative energy joined together along his metal spine. The blade of her nightflame short sword scratched along his spinal column, causing sparks, but her vision saw the lines of negative energy being severed even as the mithral-coated bones showed no damage.

Alexandros staggered forward, back into range of Kaspar's striking fist. The lich tried casting an ethereal jaunt spell to escape for now, but in the span of time it took to complete the spell's words and gestures, his body had been stabbed again by the halfling's magic blade and pummeled by the monk's steel-hard hands. Instead of fleeing into the Ethereal Plane as desired, Alexandros' spirit was engulfed by a swirling mist of tormented souls trapped within the osteovox cloud of his phylactery. The mithral-coated skeleton fell to a pile of bones on the cavern floor and Kaspar grinned in triumph at Orion, who grinned right back at him.

Vuthaeijir roared in fury as Galen and Burt continued their attacks with varying levels of success. The paladin might not have been able to channel any more smiting energy into the sword of Zehkar, but the sword's blade was enchanted with holy energy that dealt additional damage to creatures of an evil bent. Syngaard, for his part, lacked any sentimentality towards his former griffon, and beat Dick back down to statuette form with repeated bashings of his morningstar. This time, though, when Dick collapsed back into a hunk of carved bronze the fighter scooped him up and put him back into a pocket.

The black dragon was seemingly on her last legs. Bleeding from a dozen or more wounds and with a diminished intellect that made it hard to think properly, she suddenly realized death was at hand. "Wait--" she began, thinking to bargain for her life.

But Daleth didn't wait. Instead, he cast a simple magic missile spell through his metamagic rod of empower, dropping the black dragon lifelessly to the ground. By the time Syngaard had pocketed his bronze griffon and approached the dragon, Vuthaeijir was already dead. "Well, crap!" cursed the bald fighter, giving her corpse a swift kick with his boot. He'd made the killing blow against both of the red dragons they'd fought earlier and he'd kind of hoped to land the killing blow on this one as well.

So instead, he turned to Orion. Seeing she and Kaspar had likewise already taken care of the Mithral Mage (Really? Just the two of them? Syngaard thought to himself), he called out to her to grab all the treasure in her bag of holding so they could return it to the Enchanted Flagon and divide it up.

"On it!" called back the halfling cheerily, for that was one of her all-time favorite tasks.

- - -

Logan really surprised us with Alexandros' sudden appearance, especially since he'd let us know the only reason Vuthaeijir kept a zombie "pet" was because the only Huge black dragon D&D Mini we have has a human rider on it. Had Alexandros not had a teleport spell at the ready, he could have easily become permanently imprisoned within the petrified "skin" of the zombie flesh-suit he'd constructed from the black dragon's "pet" and we would have inadvertently stumbled into a permanent solution to the Mithral Mage problem. Funny how things work out sometimes. But now we have a week before he regains a corporeal existence.

This adventure gave every PC enough XP to level up.

ADVENTURE 54: GHOSTS OF THE OSTEOVOX

PC Roster:
Game Session Date: 31 July 2019

- - -

Kaspar spoke the command word to the ring of return and the conscripts teleported just outside the gates of the capital city of Durnhill. They walked through the gates and saw Mikito and Anuja helping to break down the shadowscale kobolds' tents and pack them up for their return to their swampland homes. "Skevros saw your success in the cave of the dragon," Mikito informed them. "You are to provide..." - and here she stumbled on the black dragon's difficult name - "...Three-er-nar-icks...the coins from her mother's hoard. She awaits you at the tavern."

Sure enough, the black dragon stood just outside the Enchanted Flagon, awaiting the return of the heroes she had sent to slay her older sister. "You have succeeded," she said.

"We're here, ain't we?" Syngaard replied. "And we gotcher coins an' all." Orion opened her bag of holding and started emptying its contents on the ground. Seeing the pile growing beyond what a dragon in human form would be able to easily carry, Kaspar opened up his own bag of holding, emptied it of its own meager contents, and offered it to Thriirnaryx as a means to carry the combined hoard from her mother's lair. She nodded in gratitude and said she would have one of her kobold minions return it to the elven monk once the treasure had been returned to her own lair. Then, lifting the borrowed sack over her shoulder, she made her way to the southern gates to join her kobold tribe of followers.

"It's good to be back," remarked Galen as he led the way into the Enchanted Flagon. "I, for one, could use a drink."

"Same here," replied Syngaard. "Karen!" he called, looking at the back of the tavern where the spell-effect barmaid usually stood when not otherwise needed. But Karen was in the front of the room and closed and locked the front door once all of the conscripts - as well as Burt, Carl, and Todd - had entered.

"As it is written, so it shall be," she intoned in a regal, feminine voice - which in itself was somewhat surprising, given that Skevros had never given the barmaid vocal abilities; she was simply a permanent illusion spell cast upon a permanent unseen servant spell. "Today is the day you die."

Expecting the worst - an enemy in their headquarters disguised as their barmaid - Galen and Syngaard whipped out their weapons, ready to attack. The paladin concentrated on Karen's aura. "She's not evil," he announced, lowering his unsheathed longsword. "Who are you?" he demanded.

"My name is Saraphael," replied the barmaid. "I have been sent to ensure your deaths, that you may destroy the lich Alexandros permanently - now, after his temporary death at your hands, and before he has the time to remanifest into the mortal world."

"You're here to kill us?" asked Orion, astride her ghost-dog Carl. Her hand strayed close to the bag of blades tied to the side of the saddle.

"It is a necessary step in the plan - but I can assure you your deaths will be but temporary; at the proper time, you will be returned to the mortal world."

"Works for me," Syngaard piped up. "We gotta take out the Mithral Mage's phylactery from the inside - that's what Hirek said, remember? We don't do that, we ain't never movin' on to our normal afterlives when we die for good." He took his seat at the table and turned to Saraphael. "What do we gotta do?"

"Merely accept your fate and close your eyes."

Syngaard didn't hesitate a moment; he closed his eyes and a slight smile crossed his scarred face at the thought that he was actively taking steps to ensure his eventual reunion with Messalina, his slain wife.

"What of Todd?" asked Daleth as he and the other men took their seats around the table. "Will he be coming with us?"

"Only the five of you," replied Saraphael. "Todd and Burt will remain here with me to stand watch over your bodies while your spirits do what must be done."

"And Carl?" asked Orion.

"Carl is already capable of going where you will go."

Orion nodded in satisfaction and climbed down out of the saddle. "See you soon, Carl," she said, keeping one hand on the ghost touch saddle long enough to rub the dog's fur behind his ears. Then she climbed up onto one of the chairs around the main table, joining the others. Syngaard's body had already slumped forward and the little halfing saw no signs of respiration in his unmoving frame. She took a deep breath and told herself to be brave: if the great oaf could face his death with so little reservation, then so could she! Closing her eyes, she accepted that this was a necessary act. She fell forward onto the table as if asleep, but her breathing ceased entirely.

The elves, Daleth and Kaspar, followed suit, leaving only Galen sitting there at the table among a quartet of now-dead adventuring companions. "Hieroneous, guide and protect us," he intoned before closing his eyes and falling forward in his seat.

"Took you long enough," scoffed Syngaard from above the paladin. Looking up, Galen saw a familiar scarred face peering down at him from a point above the fighter's slain body. Syngaard was floating in midair, dressed in his adventuring gear: armor, shield, weapons hanging from his belt - and the fighter's translucence told Galen it wasn't Syngaard's boots of levitation keeping him aloft.

But the conscripts weren't the only spirits in the tavern. Hirek was there, standing in the corner, and as they looked over at him Alan the ghost-raven - Alexandros' former familiar - manifested on one of the back tables nearby. "Welcome," said Hirek. "It is time."

With that announcement, three more spirits manifested in the tavern, each flowing out from a conscript's weapon. The hybrid dragon Tenryu coalesced into her human form after having exited Kaspar's tenryutsume; Osleth likewise manifested from Orion's nightflame short sword; from the sword of Zehkar held in Galen's hand came the namesake paladin, brother to Alexandros the Mithral Mage.

"You must have questions," said Osleth. "Let me tell you what you can expect. No doubt you can already feel the pull of the osteovox; as you are dead and know the Mithral Mage's true name, you will be bound into it. But you should be able to resist its pull for several minutes yet - long enough for us to tell you of the plan and for you to make the necessary preparations."

Alan took up the narrative. "Once you're pulled into the osteovox, you will first experience a manifest zone where you must face your own personal nightmares before being allowed access to the inner maze of the phylactery. Once beyond that zone, you must find and free the essences of the five Jakuran gods Alexandros overcame. Without those essences protecting it, you should be able to then find and destroy the sliver of Elder Brain holding the entire phylactery together."

"Sounds simple enough," said Syngaard, looking forward to the part where he'd get to smash an illithid Elder Brain. He was confident his enchanted morningstar would be the perfect weapon for that sort of destruction - it actually sounded kind of fun!

"There are five of us and five of you," pointed out Osleth. "That is no coincidence. Each of you will be protected from the will-draining effects of the phylactery by the sacrifice of one of us who knew Alexandros in life. Our essences will infuse your spirit-bodies and be drained in your stead. This will also provide you the effects of a full day's rest, allowing those of you with the ability to do so to prepare your spells anew."

"Some magic works a little different, now that you're, in effect, ghosts," explained Alan. "While you'll still have access to all the possessions you had on you when you died, the spirit versions of your healing items will deal negative energy instead of positive; this will have the same effect on you here as positive energy had on you in life." He turned his avian head to look directly at Galen. "That means your positive energy spells and effects will now channel negative energy instead, that you may still heal your undead forms."

"Undead," repeated Galen with a frown, clearly not liking the fact that he was now technically an undead creature. He felt befouled, unclean.

"I can feel the pull getting stronger," pointed out Kaspar.

"If you would cast spells before being separated to go to your individual nightmares, now would be the time to do so," advised Alan.

"Individual nightmares, huh?" asked Syngaard. "Say, did I ever mention my crippling fear of friendly puppies?" But while the bald fighter prattled nonsense, Daleth and Galen began a flurry of spellcasting. The elf cast the standard Rary's telepathic bond spell upon the entire group and both a stoneskin and magic circle against evil upon himself, then followed up with a new spell he'd never yet tried: spell turning - on himself, of course. Galen, in the meantime, cast bless weapon upon the sword of Zehkar and the spells protection from evil, resist cold, and resist fire on himself. Orion passed a ghostly scroll of stoneskin to Daleth to have him cast the spell on her.

The spellcasting complete, the five former companions of Alexandros each stepped into the conscript with which he or she was most closely identified: Zehkar into Galen, Osleth into Orion, Tenryu into Kaspar, Alan into Daleth, and Hirek into Syngaard. The sensation was a brief tingling, then there was nothing to indicate the merging had even happened.

"It's very strong now," said Kaspar, eyes closed and straining his elven senses to the fullest. And then in a blink, he was gone. Daleth vanished next, followed by Galen and Syngaard. "Wait, what about Car--" began Orion before being cut off in mid-question.

But her unfinished question was answered when in the mere blink of an eye, the halfling found herself in her childhood home - and sitting in Carl's ghost touch saddle once more. She was glad for the presence of her faithful steed, for if she were going to face her greatest nightmare it was comforting to know she wouldn't be facing it alone. And the fact that Carl hadn't ever been to her childhood home meant this was no reliving of a memory, but some scenario concocted specifically to frighten her.

Turning Carl about in the small room, Orion saw her parents suddenly standing before her, a glint of red in their eyes. "It's your turn now, honey," they said in unison as daggers formed into their right hands. They smiled wickedly at this pronouncement, their smiles seeming to spread much wider than should be possible on halfling faces.

"You're not real!" Orion cried, reaching down into her bag of holding for a pair of tanglefoot bags. It wasn't entirely clear what she meant, whether her announcement was a comment on the fact that she realized this was all just a wild dreamscape conjured from the osteovox cloud or whether she recognized that these were not representations of her now-dead parents but rather of the doppelgangers who had slain them and taken their forms when she was much younger. Regardless, her aim was true and the tanglefoot bags exploded upon impact on the chests of Orion's faux parents, the gooey interior of the bags forming a stiff, hardening shell on the two targets but failing to cement them in place upon the wooden floor of the halfling dwelling. Still, the action slowed their movements enough that they barely had time to get within range of their daughter before Orion had managed to scramble from Carl's back and flank around behind her mother. The doppelgangers now had two separate targets to deal with, and while Carl snapped at the elder halfling woman, Orion was able to send her nightflame short sword striking deep into her mother's back.

Orion's father tried stepping behind his daughter to deal her a similar blow, but Orion was having none of that; she spun around on her heels and instead gave him a taste of her blade as well. Then she wheeled back to face her mother and dealt her a death-blow while the older woman struggled to get the arm holding her dagger free from Carl's mouth. She cried out in pain and vanished - rather like a ghost, Orion thought in hindsight - but not before her features blurred enough to confirm Orion's suspicions that she was fighting doppelgangers. The first enemy slain, Carl leaped over to confront Orion's father as he slashed his blade at his daughter.

The halfling male's dagger hit Orion several times in rapid succession, but each strike dealt the little halfling no real harm, merely stripping off some of the defenses from her active stoneskin spell. But he had no such defenses in place, and Orion's short sword stabbed out at him again and again, drawing blood with each strike. Finally, he staggered backwards and fell to the ground, changing shape as he did so. It was a halfling male Orion had stabbed but a doppelganger who landed on the floor before vanishing altogether.

Carl bounded over to his mistress and licked her face, glad to be able to connect with her without the halfling being in the magic saddle that was normally required to allow a living being to interact with a ghost. This might have been a living nightmare for Orion but to Carl it was a much better scenario than usual! Orion took advantage of the opportunity to give her trusty steed a good rub between his ears and on his belly before leaping back into the saddle and seeing what would happen next.

- - -

"You are unworthy to wield the tenryutsume! spat the woman, advancing from the back of the temple.

Kaspar looked around him, recognizing his surroundings immediately: it was the testing ground where he had once fought for the right to wield Tenryu's powerful weapon. But he had beaten the black-clad woman once (albeit with the help of his companions) then; he was certain he could do so again.

Not wasting any breath on a response, the elven monk allowed his body to do the talking for him, speeding forward and striking at his opponent with the speed of a cobra. He had attempted a stunning blow, but while the strike met its target she managed to turn with the blow and prevent herself from being stunned. She retaliated in full force; since Kaspar had stepped up to her she was already in place to send a flurry of blows his way: a hard stab with the side of her hand, a knee kick, followed by a twirling twist in place that sent an elbow to Kaspar's face. But he slapped her striking hand to the side, dodged the incoming knee, and rolled with the elbow strike, spinning in place and kicking out with his own leg to drop her to the ground. She leaped over the sweeping appendage, but it had been a feint on his part to get her into position; while she was airborne, leaping over his out-thrust leg, he caught her hard in the face with a stunning open-palm strike. She staggered as she landed back on the temple floor, barely remaining upright as Kaspar let loose with a barrage of his most powerful strikes, each blow further enhanced by the power of the tenryutsume he wore on his right hand. Stunned by his face-strike, the female monk couldn't even put up a fight against the rapid-fire barrage of blows Kaspar sent her way. When he was done he leapt back into a defensive stance, ready for her expected counterattack.

But the counterattack never came. The woman stood there, dazed, then fell forward to crash face-first onto the floor before Kaspar. He stood, knees flexed and his stance low to the ground, one hand raised ready to strike in case this was a feint, but it became readily apparent that she was really slain when her body dissolved into mist and dissipated into the air.

Kaspar stood to his full height and turned about, seeking any further enemies. But of additional foes there were none; this single fight against the evil monk who would wield the tenryutsume for evil purposes was apparently all he need face.

There was a door before him; if memory served, this would lead back to his home temple, where he had spent years training before becoming conscripted into the service of King Leornic. Kaspar strode over to the door and opened it.

- - -

Daleth stood at the back of a ship that he'd never seen before, yet which seemed oddly familiar to him. The ship was far out to sea, for no land masses were visible in any direction, just infinite, interminable waves beneath a cloudy sky that looked ready to pour down rain at any moment.

A female elf stood before him, a rapier in her hand; without knowing how, he realized this was his first mate. Behind her, on the red-stained deck, lay the rest of the crew, all apparently dead. Weapons lay scattered on the deck all about them; it would seem they went down fighting, at the very least.

The woman's rapier came forward with amazing speed, stabbing at Daleth's midsection. But while the blow struck, it came up against the stoneskin spell protecting the elven wizard; furthermore, it triggered the defensive properties of the Stormsea robe he wore - a creation of his grandfather Lethad, whom he had never recalled actually meeting - and a surge of electricity traveled up the rapier's narrow blade to blast the elven swordswoman.

Daleth took an instinctive step back as the words to the fly spell passed his lips and the woman stabbed out at him again, apparently not having learned her lesson about his robe's electrical properties - or perhaps believing it was but a one-time effect. Strands of her hair loose from her simple ponytail repelled outwards from her head as her body once again conducted a small surge of electricity upon her sword making contact with Daleth's magic robe. But then he was gone, leaping backwards over the back rail of the vessel and into the sky behind and above the ship.

Daleth's eyebrows raised in silent surprise as the first mate followed him into the sky; it was only afterward he noticed the wings at the heels of her supple leather boots. Again she stabbed at him with her rapier; again his stoneskin spell absorbed almost all of the blow; again the murderous crewmate was zapped with an electrical charge from Daleth's robes.

Smiling at the momentary thought, Daleth half-considered remaining in place and allowing the woman to zap herself to death, for it seemed each of her attacks dealt her more damage than they did him, but that seemed too easy (and potentially boring) a way to deal with this unusual situation. So, taking his own fate into his hands, he cast a cone of cold spell directly at the elven woman. She cried out in surprise and pain and then, fury written all over her face, retaliated with a rapid series of painful blows with the point of her rapier.

Painful to her, that was - for while she was successfully whittling down the defensive abilities of Daleth's stoneskin spell, at this rate she'd be slain long before the wizard was in any real peril from her weapon. At the end of her attacks, her hair was sticking out all over and Daleth could see burn-marks on her skin from the repeated zaps of electricity she'd triggered. With almost a look of embarrassment, he raised his metamagic rod of empower spell and channeled a low-level magic missile spell through it, reasoning - quite rightly, as it turned out - that the simple spell would be enough to finish her off.

The first mate stiffened in shock and then plummeted straight down into the ocean, hit with a splash, and vanished silently beneath the waves.

Daleth flew back to the ship, lacking any other practical options: there was nothing but roiling ocean everywhere else he looked. Landing on the bloody deck, he spent a moment or two examining the slain bodies of the dead crewmen on the slippery decks - again, some of them almost seemed familiar, although he couldn't for the life of him place them - and reached for the door leading below-decks.

- - -

Syngaard found himself in all-too-familiar surroundings and immediately closed his eyes in momentary grief. He could hear the crackling of the flames before him as the cabin he'd worked so hard to build all those years ago slowly burned to the ground, set fire by his own hand. And speaking of his own hand, his left one was filled with a likewise familiar weight; opening his eyes again, he looked down and saw his newborn daughter Hope nestled in the crook of his left arm, wrapped in the scrap of blanket he'd fetched from the cabin before setting the structure ablaze. It was, for the most part, just as he'd remembered - although this time he was in his full battle gear and the arm cradling his newborn daughter also had his shield strapped to it.

A scream emanated from within the flames. It was a woman's scream, filled with equal parts fury, hatred, and pain. Syngaard recognized it at once: it was that of Mezz, although he'd never heard her scream in such a way when she was still alive.

"So you're throwing Mezz at me, huh?" Syngaard called out to the skies above - to whoever was running this mindscape. "I already faced my 'inner demons' or whatever before! I know this ain't my Mezz! So come on--bring it!"

The door to the cabin burst open and there in the open doorway was...well, one thing for sure, it definitely wasn't Mezz. It was a burning figure with Messalina Maladucci's - screw that, with Messalina Syngaard's face and hair, but a body made entirely of flames. It looked like nothing so much as one of those fire elementals they'd fought in the mines up in the Baator's Breath Mountains, only one with the size, shape, and build of Syngaard's dead wife.

This flaming Mezz struck out at her scar-faced husband with a fiery fist which the fighter caught on the edge of his shield, jostling the baby. Okay, he thought, this is all just pretend - this ain't really Hope here in my arm, she's back in Skevros' extradimensional manor in the back room of the Enchanted Flagon - but damn if it didn't feel real! With a snort of disgust, Syngaard realized he didn't have it within himself to not act as if this were indeed the real Hope, all but minutes old after a premature birth that caused the death of her mother.

Fine then, he decided. He'd fight this flame-beast with Mezz's face while keeping the pretend-Hope safe from harm. He brought his morningstar swinging in a powerful arc that sent its weapon-head crashing into the fire elemental's flaming side. And not wanting the distraction, he was sure to keep his gaze on the thing's fiery body, away from the lovely face Syngaard knew all too well he could willingly look at forever.

The fire elemental wearing Mezz's face and form pressed the attack, slamming the fighter with her flailing arms, and every so often one of the attacks got past his guard - but never to the point where the sleeping Hope felt a thing. And the bald fighter brought his morningstar crashing down on the face-stealing elemental again and again; in the end, it was the fact that Syngaard's rage and more powerful build allowed him to deal more damage to the elemental than it could do to him that made the outcome a foregone conclusion. With the final blow, the fake Mezz snuffed out of existence like a blown-out candle flame. Moments later, so did the fake Hope; Syngaard had been sure she was just a mind-construct and would disappear at the end of the fight, but he was still sad to see her go when she too disappeared. He'd only really been able to hold her that one time, in the trek from the burning cabin to the temple of Pelor, and Syngaard found he had missed holding his daughter in his arms.

It was only when he was once again all alone that he even noticed he was on fire, flames burning his fighting arm from one or more of the elemental's attacks. "Crap!" he called, dropping to the ground and smothering the flames. The fire extinguished, he rose back to his feet, retrieved his dropped morningstar, and saw the flames were now also gone from his smoking cabin. He approached the open doorway, wanting to see if Mezz was still there wrapped in the blanket he'd put her in before setting their home on fire; if nothing else, it would be good to see her face again. But as he stepped through the doorway he suddenly disappeared.

- - -

Galen stood before a pile of bodies: robed clergymen of the order of Hieroneous, judging not only from the God of Valor's symbol worn on chains around their necks but from the fact that he recognized several of their faces from his own days of training. And standing among them, her sword dripping their life-blood, stood Mother Valorie, the head paladin of Galen's temple. This was a version of Mother Valorie he'd never seen, a look of wanton blood lust on her grinning face and the black armor of a servant of Hextor covering her body from neck to toe.

She said not a word as she rushed to her former student, swinging a black-bladed sword at Galen's right side, where it was harder to get his shield up in time. He felt the sword crash into his side - and more importantly, felt it discharge the evil power Mother Valorie had channeled from Hextor, God of Tyranny. While he countered with a blow of his own, he failed to discharge the Hieronean energy he had imbued into the sword of Zehkar - distracted, perhaps, by the powerful taint of evil he saw filling his weapon-master's aura.

The two continued their battle-dance, each one repeatedly striking the other who wore the symbol of their most hated god around their necks and on their shields. Over the course of the battle, each was worn down at a nearly equal rate, until Galen realized he had a choice: he could back off and apply Hieroneous' healing touch to himself and close up most of the wounds he had gained in this battle - or he could press the attack and hope to finish off his opponent before she finished him. Judging from her stance, it seemed she still had a bit more vigor than he did; the smart thing to do would be to drop back and give himself a breather for the moment it would take to at least partially heal himself.

Instead, placing his future in the hands of his god, he sent his blade coursing down toward his foe in an overhead swing, the sword charged with his final smiting attack he'd be able to channel this day. If this attack didn't kill her he was likely going to be in a world of hurt....

With an arrogant sneer, Mother Valorie caught Galen's blow on her shield and pushed it to the side. The Hieronean paladin staggered to the side as well, off balance and unable to defend the incoming swing of the blackguard's hellsteel blade....

- - -

Kaspar stepped through the door and found himself not back into his old temple, as he'd expected, but a completely different building also very familiar to him: the Enchanted Flagon. His gaze was drawn to the table where he expected to see the bodies of the five conscripts, but they were not present - nor was Karen, or the celestial being who had so recently taken her form. Burt and Todd were likewise missing. But there, sitting in the chair at Skevros' customary place, sat Alexandros the Mithral Mage in his human guise.

As Kaspar dropped to a defensive stance, ready to leap away from whatever spell the lich might throw in his direction, Alexandros just looked up and smiled weakly. "You're finally here to free me from my nightmare," he said. "We have much to discuss, but first it seems your friend is struggling." He waved a hand at the the door through which Kaspar had just entered. "Go to his aid, before he is trapped forever in his own nightmare."

Confused at this turn of events, Kaspar recalled the Rary's telepathic bond Daleth had cast upon them earlier. <Galen?> he called, stepping back to the door. <I am coming!>

Mother Valorie's black blade came rushing down toward the back of Galen's unprotected head but then veered wildly away as a blur of motion nearby caused the blackguard to crumple and fall, taken down by a powerful blow from Kaspar's tenryutsume. Her armored body silently dissipated to nothingness before even striking the floor.

"Are you all right?" asked Kaspar, holding out a hand to steady the paladin.

"I will be," Galen confirmed, causing his hand to glow with healing energy and applying it to the worst of his wounds. "Thanks for the save, Kaspar - I owe you one." He shuddered at the thought of how close he had been to defeat. But then, he had put his fate into the hands of Hieroneous and the God of Valor had seen fit to send Kaspar his way when he was needed most.

Inside the Enchanted Flagon replica, the door opened and Daleth stepped forward. "What--?" he sputtered, recognizing Alexandros at once and paling at the thought of having to face him alone.

<It's okay, Daleth,> came Kaspar's telepathic assurance, as he and Galen stepped through the open doorway behind him. The monk finished his thought aloud: "Alexandros is not here to fight us."

Orion entered the tavern next, followed by Syngaard. The scarred fighter raised his morningstar reflexively, ready to attack. But Galen grabbed his arm. "Let's hear what he has to say," the paladin suggested. Then he turned to the silver-robed figure and asked, "Who exactly are you? You can't really be the real Alexandros."

"But I am - in a way," the figure replied. "I am what little remains of Alexandros' goodness. You see, when a lich creates a phylactery the good part of its soul must remain bound within it, to anchor the rest of the lich's soul to the Material Plane. That is why liches are always evil."

"Skevros is a lich - well, sort of," amended Orion. "And he's not evil."

"True, but he is an exception to the rule, since he was restored to goodness before completing the ritual; hence his half-living state."

"So this is all part of your phylactery?" asked Daleth, waving a hand to indicate the tavern's interior.

"It is, yes. This whole place is a sort of demiplane, a 'pocket dimension' if you will."

"Like inside our bags of holding," suggested Kaspar.

"Yes, although my phylactery covers a much greater area. And there are other differences as well: time flows faster here, for one thing. What feels like a full month will pass in here while only a single day's span occurs on the Material Plane. While my lich-body will reform out there in the outer world in a week, that means seven months of subjective time here inside the phylactery."

"Weird," commented Syngaard.

"The bulk of the phylactery is normally an ever-shifting maze of pathways; however, that defense is only to keep souls from escaping. Since you won't be trying to escape, you will find it much easier to reach your goal of finding the Jakuren god-essences."

"These are the captured deities of Mikito's people?" asked Daleth.

"They are: the elemental gods of the Western Wind, the Southern Mountain, the Eastern Sea, and the Northern Flame. A fifth god of honor rules over the four elemental gods."

"They got names?" Syngaard asked.

"No doubt, but the Mithral Mage never bothered to learn their names before slaying them and stealing their essences and thus they are unknown to me. The fifth god-essence is protecting the elder brain sliver that holds the demiplane together and it is hidden by the power of the four elemental gods."

"So we gotta take out the elemental gods first, and then we can go find the fifth god and smash the elder brain," reasoned Syngaard.

"That is correct. And you will have seven months of subjective time to finish the task."

"Kill five gods and smash up a brain that can't even move. Sounds like a plan - let's go!"

Galen raised a hand to the scarred fighter. "Syngaard, wait. We must rest up so we can replenish our spells and heal up. We'll need to be at our full strength if we're to take on the might of four elemental gods at once."

Syngaard sighed, setting his morningstar down upon the table and taking a seat. "Fine," he acquiesced, sounding all put out about it but secretly admitting that getting the burns on his right arm taken are of wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing at all.

"Hey, this place got any ale?" he asked.

- - -

So, Logan surprised us all again: I think this is the first time our weekly adventure started up immediately after the previous week's adventure - he had even kept the PC tracking sheet with which spells had been used and so on so he could pick up from exactly where we had left off. And now he informs us that the next two adventures will take place inside the phylactery: next session we deal with the four elemental gods and the one after that we'll fight the Jakuran god of honor and take out the elder brain sliver. And that will take care of the Mithral Mage permanently (assuming we can get that all done within the next seven months of subjective time).

Daleth leveled up at the end of this adventure, so for the first time ever in this campaign we'll all be at the same level. That'll be different!

ADVENTURE 55: THE FOUR PILLARS OF JAKURA

PC Roster:
Game Session Date: 6 August 2019

- - -

"You have ample time," suggested Alexandros - or the good part of him that had been abandoned by the real Alexandros when he attained lichdom. "It would be to your respective advantages to spend the subjective week examining the tomes and gaining those powers for yourselves."

"You're sure we wouldn't be wasting a week that could be put to better use taking down the gods of Jakura?" asked Kaspar, holding the Manual of Gainful Exercise and flipping idly through it. Galen had likewise been paging through another magical book, the legend "Tome of Understanding" inscribed on its front cover. These two magical tomes had been part of the treasure from the black dragon they'd slain as their last mission prior to their own deaths.

"Wasting? Absolutely not - and it could very well help give you the edge you need to overcome the spirits of the Jakuran gods hiding the location of the illithid brain sliver holding this place together. Besides, I will need about that long to manipulate the osteovox in such a way as to bring the four elemental essences together in a single place, so you may take them down all at once."

"If you're sure..." remarked Galen, sitting down at one of the back tables of the Enchanted Flagon (or the copy of it that existed in the osteovox demiplane) and making himself comfortable. He turned to the beginning of the book and started reading it intently from the beginning. Kaspar took a seat beside him and began examining his own magical tome.

Daleth, never one for patience, complained, "A whole week? And what are the rest of us to do during this time?"

Syngaard looked questioningly over at Orion. The two didn't normally get along but faced with a week of inaction they were willing to set aside their differences - especially if it meant an opportunity to knock the haughty elven wizard down a peg or two. Orion nodded silently to the scarred fighter and pulled a deck of cards from her bag of holding.

"You know how to play poker, Wizard-Pants?" asked Syngaard.

"Poker? Certainly not."

"Don't worry," smiled Orion, climbing up into a chair and shuffling the deck. "We can teach you the basics, and I'm sure someone with your superior intellect will pick up the game in no time...."

- - -

A week later Galen and Kaspar had finished their magical studies and just as the Mithral Mage had told them, the books vanished upon being completed. "Back on the Material Plane," Alexandros explained, "the physical copies of the books you just read will have likewise disappeared. These are basically somewhat elaborate, specifically-tailored wish spells, granting you the benefits of the magical effects bound in the writings. How do you feel?"

Kaspar flexed his hands, his forearms, and his biceps in turn. "Stronger," he admitted.

"Me too - but not in a physical sense," added Galen. "I feel...I feel as if the channels of divine magic have been broadened in my mind, if that makes any sense. I feel as if I shall be able to channel more spell energy through my body than ever before."

"I have no doubt that that is true," said Alexandros.

"So, you get your stuff done?" Syngaard asked the Mithral Mage. "Get them gods all together for us so we can cut 'em down?"

"I believe so, yes," replied the silver-robed wizard.

"So, what can we expect?" Daleth asked. He looked over to Orion with a frown, as she was putting the deck of cards away. He was finally starting to get the hang of this poker game, he thought, and might have soon been able to win back some of the money he'd lost to these two over the course of the past week. But time enough for that later on - right now they had more important things to worry about!

"About the Jakuran elemental gods?" asked Alexandros. "It is difficult to say. Over the millennia - 30 subjective millennia in here, a thousand years back on the Material Plane - they have taken many different forms. Most often they are serpentine dragons; on other occasions they are animated suits of elemental armor or simply humanoid elementals. There is no telling what form they may choose to appear in."

"That's real useful," scoffed Syngaard.

"However," continued Alexandros, "within the mindscape of the osteovox, the magical bindings of the place tend to take on 'physical' forms, manifesting as objects or even creatures. As such, when you face the Jakuren gods your goal should be to destroy the manifestation of the seals that bind them. The gods will be compelled to protect the seals and it might be easier to destroy the seals after defeating the gods."

"Got any idea what these seals might look like?" Syngaard asked.

"They could look like anything, really," admitted Alexandros, causing Syngaard to snort in disgust.

"I don't know about slaying gods," remarked Galen. "It doesn't feel right."

"Ah, but these gods are already dead," replied the Mithral Mage. "Dying again within the osteovox will only cause them to reform the next subjective day."

"Day? Not a week?" asked Orion.

"These are gods, not liches," Alexandros reminded her.

"What else should we know?" asked Kaspar.

"Although the magic binding the god-essences is evil, the gods themselves are not. As you prepare your spells before going into combat, you can hold off on the protection from evil and magic circle against evil spells you often cast - they will be wasted in this battle and you can no doubt put other spells to better use in their place."

"Once these two get all spelled up," asked Syngaard, pointing a thumb in the direction of Daleth and Galen, "we gonna be able to go pop in the four gods all quick-like? 'Cause some of them spells got durations we don't want running out during the fight."

"Once your spellcasting is complete, I can send you directly to them," Alexandros reassured him.

"We oughta assign ourselves targets ahead of time," suggested Syngaard. "I fought a fire elemental last week to get into this place, so I'll take out the fire god. I'll want some sorta fire protection spell from one of you two. Orion, you got fire protection with that bracelet of yours, right? Then maybe you oughta be on fire god detail with me." Orion nodded her agreement.

"Wizard-Pants, you like that fly spell, maybe you oughta take out the air god," Syngaard continued. "I imagine the earth god'll be a big brute going hand-to-hand; Kaspar, that sounds like a good one for you to take down. Daleth, you maybe wanna cast one of them stoneskin spells on our monk, here?" Daleth nodded his agreement.

"That leaves the water god," pointed out Galen. "I guess I'll take him. My elemental bane greatsword should be able to take out any of the four."

"Wait - my nightflame short sword ought to do extra damage to a water-based elemental, even a god," suggested the halfling. "Maybe I should go after the water god."

"Yeah, good idea," Syngaard agreed. "Okay, you swap with Galen. Galen, can you protect the two of us from fire?"

"Easily," replied the paladin. "I shall prepare two resist fire spells."

"Anybody finishes up with their elemental god, go find another one to help take down," Syngaard finished. "I guess that'll have to do, far as plannin' goes." Daleth and Galen began preparing their spells, Daleth by examining the pages of his spellbook and Galen by praying to his patron god Hieroneous, God of Valor.

"Grab them cards back up," suggested Syngaard to Orion. "C'mere, Kaspar - you can take Wizard-Pants' spot. You know it'll take these two the better part of an hour to get their spells all lined up."

But the next hour came soon enough for Syngaard; unlike Daleth, the elven monk seemed almost impossible to bluff at poker! Orion put the cards away for the second time that day as Daleth and Galen, their preparations complete, began casting spells on the group. The paladin covered himself in a divine favor spell and placed a bless weapon spell upon his greatsword rather than on the sword of Zehkar, seeing that he'd likely be using the elemental bane greatsword as his primary weapon in this fight. He and Syngaard each received a resist fire spell as well, to protect them from their designated foe.

Daleth cast stoneskin spells upon himself, Kaspar, and Orion (the latter from a spell scroll she provided him) and then further augmented himself with fly and spell turning spells. "Ready!" he called upon completing the words to his final spell. Orion, sitting in the ghost touch saddle of her faithful riding dog, bent over to activate Carl's collar, infusing the ghost-dog with the effects of a false life spell.

"Then exit through the front door - and good luck!" called Alexandros.

The five conscripts stepped through the front door of the Enchanted Flagon and found themselves standing in a misty plain, the ground coated in a gray mist the same color as the sky. Eighty feet ahead of them stood a four-headed hydra, each head a different color: from left to right, red, black, silver, and blue.

"Red's fire," Syngaard said quietly to the others. "Blue's gotta be water. So black's probably earth and silver's air? Like the silver lining in a cloud?"

"Or silver's earth, where the metal comes from, and black's air, like a thundercloud," pointed out Orion.

"Yeah, maybe," Syngaard admitted.

The heads turned to regard the party. The blue head spoke, his words somehow coming out as both the Common tongue used in Durnhill and the Jakuran language simultaneously without being incomprehensible. "They are here to free us," it said to the others.

"That is true," admitted Kaspar, taking a tentative step forward. "We have been told that to do so, we must kill your spirit-forms. Do you have any advice for us?"

"Be swift and do not fail," replied the red hydra head. "We will be compelled to fight back, to the best of our abilities."

Of course, Kaspar was all about being swift. In seconds, he went from standing perfectly still to racing forward at full sprint and closing the gap between him and the hydra, sending his tenryutsume crashing into the jaw of the black hydra-head - correctly assuming it to be the Earth god's representation.

Syngaard was irritated at having to fight a hydra - all of their plans about assigning specific people against specific gods was pretty much out the window, with all four gods being, in effect, the same creature! That was only bound to make things more difficult for the conscripts. Still, he had to play the hand he had been dealt, so he whipped out his Dick, gave it a good rub, and leaped upon the griffon's broad back as it manifested before the scarred fighter. Then he urged him forward, holding out his morningstar for a bash across the red hydra's head once Dick closed the distance between them.

But before Syngaard could get in his swing, the red hydra head demonstrated that it was, in fact, the manifestation of the Jakuran elemental fire god by breathing forth a cone of flames from its open mouth. The flames engulfed Syngaard, Dick, and Kaspar - the only ones thus far to have engaged the hydra and thus the only ones within range of its breath weapon. Syngaard was somewhat protected by the spell Galen had cast upon him and Kaspar's monk training also allowed him to lessen the severity of the attack, but Dick had no such advantages and the fur and feathers on his underside took a severe burning. He cried out in pain from the attack, wings flapping to keep him and his rider airborne.

The black hydra head lined itself up and sent a long stream of acid hitting Kaspar, Galen, Orion, and Carl in turn. Of the four, only Galen was seriously affected; the monk and rogue each managed to duck and avoid most of the effects and Carl's incorporeal nature allowed the physical attack to pass right through his body.

Daleth flew forward and tried something: knowing each hydra head was effectively a separate elemental god, he targeted them each as a separate entity with a chain lightning spell. He chose the black earth-head as his primary, sending arcs of electricity to strike the other three heads and the hydra's body as well - for the elven wizard had correctly surmised the shared body of the hydra served as the seal binding the gods to the osteovox. The silver hydra head took this attack in stride, causing Daleth to surmise - and pass the information to the others over the Rary's telepathic bond - that the silver head was the Jakuran elemental god of air and apparently immune to electricity.

Galen wasn't sure if Burt could be summoned to this demiplane of osteovox; while the dire lion lived on the outer plane of the Beastlands and transitioned to the mortal world just fine, not only was this a different plane but the paladin he served was quite dead, his physical body lying under the effects of a gentle repose spell back in the real Enchanted Flagon. But it was worth a shot: calling across the planes for his bonded mount, Galen felt the initial mental contact of reply and suddenly Burt was standing there before him. However, the entire demiplane shuddered at the intrusion of a good-aligned, living creature. A golden light wreathed the dire lion's body, an effect that had never been present before. As Galen leaped upon his mount's back, it seemed to him as if the glow were slowly dimming; he made a mental note to dismiss Burt from the demiplane before the glow dissipated entirely.

But in the meantime: glorious battle awaited! Burt raced up to the hydra, eager to sink his large fangs into the reptile's flesh, but the red hydra head snaked out as Burt approached and sunk its teeth into the lion's broad shoulder.

Orion mentally activated her ring of invisibility and sent Carl forward into battle. Before getting within striking range of the four serpentine heads, though, she leapt from the ghost touch saddle and raced around the hydra to get into a flanking position. The heads all seemed to be focused on the conscripts currently battling the hydra, so she supposed - and fervently hoped - that their god-vision didn't include seeing through invisibility spells.

The hydra's silver head looked up at Daleth and responded to his spell attack with a line of lightning blasting straight into the wizard's chest. Part of the attack was absorbed by Daleth's Stormsea cloak, but eneough energy got through to rattle the wizard's teeth. He bobbled a bit in midair but maintained his elevation.

Then the blue hydra head spewed forth its own breath weapon, a cone of frosty cold at those enemies assembled before it. Burt and Kaspar were able to successfully evade the cold blast but once again Galen took the full force of the attack. Carl, standing ethereally within the cone's area of effect, was completely unaffected; in fact, he yawned impressively as if this was failing to hold his interest.

<Attack the main body!> called out Daleth over the link. <I think it's the seal keeping the gods grounded here!> Kaspar was eager to comply, dodging under the snaking heads and delivering a flurry of blows at the hydra's breastbone, the first of his rapid-strike attacks imbued with the full power of his quivering palm. Alas, he failed to slay the beast in one fell blow, but the power of his tenryutsume managed to deal the creature quite a bit of damage nonetheless. As further evidence that the body served as the seal keeping the elemental gods tied to the osteovox plane, Kaspar could feel the holy energy of Tenryu's weapon affecting the reptilian body, despite Alexandros having warned the conscripts that the elemental gods themselves were not of an evil nature.

<The body itself is evil!> Kaspar called to the others, while avoiding a snap of a hydra-head's jaws.

Mirroring his week-earlier attack upon the black dragon, Syngaard leaped from his griffon and landed upon the hydra's back, just behind the point where the four serpentine necks grew from the body. He let the momentum of his leap flow through his right arm, causing his morningstar to crash down into the hydra's body and punch through the creature's thick scales. Dick likewise mirrored his previous move against the black dragon, positioning himself immediately before the black hydra head, ready to selflessly block any further acid spews it might want to send out against the conscripts.

The red head lashed out suddenly with the speed of a striking cobra and caught Kaspar in the shoulder before he could successfully dodge out of the way. The monk stifled a cry of pain - and then another of anguish, for from his vantage point he could see the hydra body regenerating the damage he'd inflicted upon it with his tenryutsume. <The body regenerates!> he warned the others as he extracted himself from the red hydra head's jaws.

The black hydra head attacked the griffon hovering before it, catching Dick in its teeth and biting him in half. Dick immediately reverted to statuette form and clattered to the ground, buried in the layer of thick mist covering the floor of this wide chamber.

Daleth cast a disintegrate spell at the hydra's body, trying to destroy the seal that would free the elemental gods in one fell swoop. The beam of the spell hit but the hydra-body resisted the worst of the intended effects; damage was inflicted but not enough to discorporate it entirely.

Deciding to go for an all-out attack on the hydra's body, Galen swapped his elemental bane greatsword for the sword of Zehkar, realizing the hydra's body was in no was an elemental creature as were the Jakuran gods. He channeled a smite evil attack through his trusty longsword, sending the power of Hieroneous into the dread beast. Burt likewise clawed and bit at the hydra, concentrating on the creature's right front leg. The silver head struck at Galen in retaliation, catching the paladin in its powerful jaws.

Orion, in the meantime, had approached the creature unseen and decided her best bet was to attack the creature's unprotected belly; at her size, she was the best person on the team for such a maneuver. Stabbing up with all her might from beneath it, she felt the nightflame short sword pierce the reptilian hide and slide deep into its guts; the halfling was rewarded for her efforts by a gush of blood raining down upon her.

Syngaard found out all at once that the back of a hydra offered in no way any further protection than the back of an ancient black dragon, when the blue hydra head snaked around and bit him. He slammed at the offending head with his shield to get it to let go of him, almost losing his balance in the process. At the creature's front, Kaspar attacked again with a rapid-fire series of punches aimed at the hydra's breastbone, reapplying the damage the beast had healed up from his earlier attacks. He hoped that with several of the conscripts attacking the body at once they could overcome its rapid healing.

Syngaard did just that, turning his back on the blue hydra head that had been snapping at him to concentrate on taking out the body. He pounded down at the reptilian body beneath him like a carpenter hammering in nails, and each strike of his morningstar sent blood flying up in an arc when he raised his weapon for the next strike. Finally, the hydra's body - heads and all - just dissipated into nothingness, it finally having been overcome by the joint attacks of the conscripts assaulting it from all directions.

But that left Syngaard in midair, having been standing on the back of a creature that was suddenly no longer present. Worse yet, Orion was standing directly below him, her nightflame short sword pointed up in his direction. With an unsuccessfully-repressed bleat of terror, Syngaard activated his boots of levitation at the last possible moment and hovered in the air, the point of the halfling's flaming blade less than an inch from his codpiece. "Watch it there!" he gasped as Orion quickly lowered her blade and stepped to the side, allowing the scarred fighter to deactivate his magical boots and drop back to the ground. His legs were wobbly, and not from the combat with the four-headed hydra!

Suddenly, the Jakuran gods were back just as quickly as they'd vanished. This time, though, they were in their full serpentine dragon forms, as four distinct entities. "Finally, we are free," the Jakuran gods exulted, their words once again coming out in two languages simultaneously (not that any of the conscripts understood the Jakuran language). "Although we must wait till this phylactery is fully destroyed before we can be reborn in the lands of Jakura, we thank you for the boon you have done for us." The world around them shuddered again and Galen looked over to his dire lion. The glow around Burt was nearly gone. "Thank you," Galen said, stepping down from Burt's back. "But return now back to your home, until I call for you again." Burt roared in gratitude and disappeared from view.

"What of the final god?" asked Daleth, dropping down from the air and landing in the mist, while Syngaard groped around blindly on his hands and knees, looking for his figurine of wondrous power. "And the illithid brain sliver?" the elf added. "What can you tell us of that?"

"The god of honor usually takes the form of an armored samurai, although he is larger than mortals," replied the Jakuran earth god.

"And beware the brain sliver," added the Jakuran fire god. "It is more mobile than you might expect."

"Hmm," mused Daleth, rubbing his chin. "A brain golem, perhaps, or perhaps an intellect devourer...."

"What's he on about?" asked Syngaard, pocketing his recovered bronze griffon. Kaspar just shrugged his shoulders; he'd never heard of the creatures Daleth was muttering about, either. The monk absently channeled the chi through his body, directing it to close up the wounds he'd received from the hydra's teeth.

Oh well, thought Syngaard. He supposed Wizard-Pants would let them know before they were sent out to deal with these last two obstacles in their path. But in the meantime, even ghosts needed to heal their wounds and that likely meant going back to the copy of the Enchanted Flagon that existed in this pocket dimension. "C'mon, Wizard-Pants," the bald fighter said, "you can tell us all about it back at the tavern, over a couple hands of poker. I think it's your deal." Syngaard smiled to himself at the thought of winning even more money off the silly elf, who might be a literal wizard at spellcasting but still knew bugger-all about bluffing at cards.

"Very well," agreed Daleth, likewise smiling to himself - for he well understood that no matter how much money as he might lose here in this pocket dimension, his real money was still with him in his bag of holding alongside his corpse back on the material plane. All Syngard and Orion were doing here was fleecing him from "ghost money" - the ghostly representations of the real thing back in the mortal world, just as their own bodies here were merely copies of their real bodies back on their home plane - so these two card sharks were merely giving the elven wizard a chance to learn the intricacies of the game without any danger of his losing anything of true value. "I accept," he said.

- - -

I have to admit, none of us expected the four Jakuran elemental gods to be four separate heads on a single hydra! And we even have a four-headed hydra mini, an orange plastic figure I bought at a local Michael's store some years ago. Logan even gave the body and each head of the hydra a separate initiative, using the hydra initiative card for the body and the appropriate elemental initiative card for each of the heads. That was an excellent approach, ensuring we didn't get dog-piled on with four breath weapons in a row all at once.

ADVENTURE 56: A SLIVER OF HONOR

PC Roster:

Game Session Date: 21 August 2019

- - -

Four humanoid figures suddenly appeared in the Enchanted Flagon - or the copied version of it that existed in the osteovox demiplane that comprised the Mithral Mage's phylactery. This came as a surprise to the others already assembled there, for only a subjective day had passed since they had been in battle with the four Jakuran elemental gods and they were still resting up from that battle, having found that even in death they were used to having a time to recover from strenuous activity (to include spellcasting; Daleth had just prepared a full set of spells in his mind after having spent enough time recovering from the battle that he was once again able to hold the spell energy in his brain).

The figures were each seemingly composed of one of the four elements, causing Syngaard to leap up from his chair and reach for the morningstar at his belt, expecting this to be a retaliatory attack from the Jakuran gods they'd slain, now having reformed their bodies and seeking to take vengeance on their slayers. But as one, the four figures held up a hand in supplication. "We mean you no harm," they said in unison, their words once again being expressed simultaneously in the Common tongue of Durnhill and the almost musical Jakuran language favored by their samurai friend Mikito. "We have come to aid you in the final battle here in the demiplane."

"You gonna help us take down those last two, the honor-god and the brain sliver?" asked Syngaard.

"Not directly, no. Were we to be struck by the magic sealing Yanjiro we would once again be bound to the phylactery and your hard work thus far will have been undone."

"Yanjiro?" asked Kaspar. "Is that the god of honor we must defeat?"

"Yes," replied the elemental gods. "Originally, in our part of the world, there were two main gods: Yanjiro, God of the Heavens Above and Yinkiku, Goddess of the Land Below. Yinkiku loved Yanjiro, but his honor would not allow him to be with one who had such a chaotic heart. Yinkiku attempted to change, but the strain caused her to shatter into the four lesser elemental goddesses."

"Wait--so you guys are all chicks?" demanded Syngaard.

"We are of the female aspect," corrected the four elementals, each subtly changing their shapes until they looked like Jakuran women, wearing the wraparound kimonos popular among people of that part of the world. Then, continuing their tale, they added, "Alexandros somehow used Yanjiro's honor to bind his essence to his will, using it to defeat us, the lesser four. We have all been imprisoned here for a thousand of your years. Now, you have freed the four of us - but to destroy this demiplane completely you must now defeat Yanjiro and slay the living sliver of Elder Brain he uses as a base for his phylactery."

"Is there a seal we must destroy, like the hydra's body that kept you imprisoned?" asked Daleth.

"There is," answered Alexandros. "You will need to take down three opponents: the illithid brain sliver, who takes the form of a humanoid brain golem; Yanjiro, in the form of samurai armor encasing the brain golem; and the seal, which can take any form. The seal is the manifestation of the god's honor; destroy it and it will be easier to take down the other two."

"As we said," replied the Jakuran elemental goddesses, "We cannot aid you directly. But we can each grant you a boon that will last until the phylactery's destruction." With that, they pulled away the collars of their kimonos and reached their slender hands into their chests, pulling out their own hearts, placing them on the table before the assembled conscripts before dissipating, one after the other. Each heart turned into a gemlike object: a black diamond, a clear fulgurite, an orange prism with flames dancing within, and a three-dimensional snowflake.

Frowning in puzzlement, Galen picked up the orange prism. "How do we--" he began but then stopped as images flooded his mind. The simple act of picking up the prism had mentally informed him of the Heart of Flames' powers and how it was utilized. "You stick this into your own chest," he told the others. "It empowers any attacks you make, to maximize the damage you deal to your enemies."

Picking up the other gems passed on knowledge of their powers to those who held them. The Heart of Stone provided a significant level of protection against incoming physical attacks. The Heart of the Winds provided a haste effect to its user. The Heart of the Sea allowed a spellcaster to more easily penetrate any spell resistance possessed by those upon whom he cast his attack spells.

"Well, you get the snowflake, that's for sure," reasoned Galen. Daleth nodded his acknowledgment and placed the Heart of the Sea over his chest. He found he could push it into place without resistance. "How does it feel?" asked Orion.

Daleth considered. "It feels no different," he replied.

"Anybody do the math?" asked Syngaard. "There's four of these things and five of us. Somebody's gonna get left out."

"Actually," pointed out Alexandros, "I believe that when you defeat Yanjiro, you will gain the benefit of his heart."

"What does it do?" asked Galen.

"I am unsure."

"Well, let's figure out who oughta get the rest of these," mused Syngaard. "That stone one, that's some mighty good protection. That maybe oughta go to you, Galen - keep you in the fight longer."

"I have my own healing ability to do that," countered Galen.

"Yeah, but if you're busy healin' you ain't attackin'," argued Syngaard. "That didn't work out so good when you was fightin' off your paladin boss when we first got here. This Stone-Heart-thing should protect you from harm enough that you won't need so much in the way of healing. And I assume that brain golem guy is gonna be evil, right?"

"I would assume so," agreed Alexandros.

"Well there you go, then," said the bald fighter. "You're the best equipped of us to take down evil, Galen." The paladin accepted the argument and placed the Heart of Stone in his own chest.

"That leaves the three of us." Syngaard picked up the Heart of Flames, watching the flames dance inside the clear gem. "This thing maximizes damage. All three of us can be pretty good at dealing out damage...still, of the three of us, Kaspar's definitely the fastest. Givin' this to him'll mean more attacks get maximized. Make sense?"

Orion nodded her agreement; despite often butting heads with the scarred fighter, when it came to tactical decisions he usually knew what he was talking about. Kaspar took the Heart of Flames and placed it inside his own chest.

That left only the Heart of the Winds. Syngaard held it out to the halfling. "You want it?"

"You take it," offered Orion. "Having me hasted doesn't do me much good if Carl's not hasted as well." Syngaard shrugged and stuck it into his chest. "Weird," he commented to himself. He pulled out his bronze griffon from his pocket and activated it, bringing Dick into full size. Syngaard leaped up onto the griffon's back and readied his morningstar.

"I've got you covered," offered Daleth to Orion, casting a haste spell on the group - including Carl. Syngaard frowned, realizing the elf had just made the Heart of the Winds pointless. Figures!

Daleth continued his spellcasting, granting himself greater invisibility, fly, and magic circle against evil and using one of Orion's scrolls to cast stoneskin on her before casting a Rary's telepathic bond spell on the assembled group. Galen cast bless weapon on the sword of Zehkar and a bless spell on the group. Orion bent down from the saddle and activated Carl's collar of false life. "Ready!" she called.

"Then good luck!" replied Alexandros, opening the front door of the Enchanted Flagon. Unlike the true tavern back on the Material Plane, which opened to a street in the capital city of Durnhill, the scene before the group was one of misty ground in all directions. Directly ahead stood an ogre-sized samurai in Jakuran great armor, wielding a katana blade commensurate with his enormous size. There was nothing else within view but a featureless, misty plane.

<The sword's probably the seal!> Syngaard called over the link. <What else could it be?>

Daleth flew diagonally towards the brain golem, achieving a height beyond what he believed to be the reach of the katana. He then cast his most powerful combat spell: a meteor swarm, which sent two flaming meteors flying into the golem, another striking the armor, and one targeted against the katana. Fiery explosions momentarily shielded the figure from view, and when they dissipated the conscripts' godly opponent looked far worse off that he had a moment before.

Orion had Carl go ethereal and charge the brain golem, racing straight for, and then straight through, the massive samurai. Once behind him, Carl spun about and the halfling prepared for a sneak attack as soon as her ghost-dog could rematerialize in place. She saw positive energy pulsing around the creature and wondered if she could target the cluster of pulses like she did when attacking undead.

Galen sprinted forward in a hasted charge, but the distance to cross was great enough that even with his increased speed the golem had enough time to bring his katana crashing down upon the paladin before he could close. Evil energy coursed through the sword and into the Hieronenan paladin, confirming that the blade was the seal keeping Yanjiro imprisoned on this demiplane. Galen channeled energy from his own god through the sword of Zehkar and swung for all he was worth against the evil katana - and was surprised when he missed the target completely.

Dick flew forward at full speed, diving into the golem's face and bringing his sharp beak and wicked claws to bear. Syngaard swung his morningstar against the katana, and although the sound of the blow reverberated around the open area he didn't seem to have dealt it any damage.

With three targets immediately before it, the illithid Elder Brain sliver sent a powerful mind blast out in a cone before it, catching Galen, Syngaard, and Dick in its blast. But all three managed to shrug off its effects, perhaps due to being focused to win this battle like no other battle before them - this was their one chance to ensure the Mithral Mage would no longer walk the living world and for Syngaard the possibility of an afterlife reunion with Messalina was on the line. There was no way some walking brain matter was going to put him out of action so easily!

Kaspar charged forth, his already considerable speed enhanced even further by Daleth's haste spell. He leaped up and sent the full power of his fist into the steel-hardened katana - and it shattered like glass, sending fragments flying in all directions like shrapnel. Released by the destruction of the seal binding him into place, Yanjiro tore himself away from the brain golem, the samurai armor flowing and disappearing. On the Ethereal Plane, Orion and Carl - and no others - saw it enter, briefly take the form of a noble Jakuran man in an elaborate kimono, and place a small object - the Heart of Honor - into her chest, straight through the mithral breastplate she wore. He then nodded once and disappeared from view.

Daleth maneuvered in the air - still invisible - and cast a maximized cone of cold down at the now-exposed brain golem in such a way as to prevent Dick and Syngaard from being in the area of effect of the spell. A large portion of its pink, lumpy body was covered in a thick layer of frost from the attack. And then Carl remanifested and Orion brought her nightflame short sword stabbing directly into a nexus of life energy surrounding the golem. It staggered forward from the sudden and unexpected attack.

Galen channeled smiting energy through his blade, cutting deep into the golem's spongy flesh. He attacked it again several times in rapid succession but none of his subsequent hits seemed to do it much damage. But then Syngaard, from the back of his griffon, was able to redeploy his attacks (now that the katana had been destroyed) to the golem itself, and this turned out to be a much easier target to hurt. Blood and brain matter squished out at each powerful strike of the morningstar.

Once again the brain golem had no shortage of targets, but there was one foe it was particularly interested in taking down: the elven monk who had single-handedly destroyed the seal binding the Jakuran god into his service. A swift pair of blows from hammerlike fists came crashing down upon the elf in an attempt to crush him into jelly.

Kaspar could probably have avoided the blows with ease. However, he saw an opening and he took it. Ignoring the pain from the golem's fists, the monk bent forward and sent a series of pistonlike blows of his own hammering into the golem's midsection, directly on the opposite side of the entry-point of Orion's short sword. The focused damage - fueled not only by the monk's tenryutsume but also the Heart of Flames within his chest - caused the golem's destruction, its torso unable to support the rest of its massive frame.

Earthquakes seemed to suddenly rock the demiplane as it shuddered with the Elder Brain sliver's death throes. The mist covering the ground started dissipating, but then too did the ground itself, patches of it melting away into ever-increasing chunks of blackness, of nothingness. Galen looked at the others and began calling out a warning which he never got to finish. "We're--"

- - -

Galen sat up, the left side of his face numb from having slept upon it. He looked blearily around him, taking in the sights. He was in the Enchanted Flagon, seated in his usual seat around the table the conscripts used as their briefing area. Around the table, Daleth, Kaspar, Orion, and Syngaard were similarly lifting their heads up and looking blearily around them, confusion apparent on their faces. Todd perched upon the back of Daleth's chair, looking intently down at his waking master. Over by the front door of the tavern stood Karen, the magical-effect barmaid.

The door opened and in walked Skevros, looking as if nothing of particular importance had occurred. "Ah, good, you're all here," he said, walking over to the table of seated adventurers. "I've got the shadowscale kobolds teleported back to their homes in the swamp. We should discuss your mission in slaying Thriirnaryx's sister. Do you have any questions about the objects you recovered from her hoard?"

Orion looked over to the king's adviser with even more confusion. "Is it still the day we killed the black dragon?" she asked. Time in the osteovox demiplane passed much, much more swiftly than it did in the real world!

"Still today? Of course it is - whatever do you mean?"

"We were all slain," explained Galen. "We've spent weeks in the Mithral Mage's phylactery."

"Slain?" gasped Skevros. "But I watched your progress in my crystal ball. You slew not only the black dragon but also the Mithral Mage. Who slew you?"

Syngaard pointed a thumb over at Karen. "She did," he said. "Once we came back here."

Now it was Skevros who was confused. "Karen killed you?"

"Well, she was kind of an angel at the time," offered Orion, which didn't clear up much for the red-robed wizard. At a word from Syngaard, Karen - no longer possessed by the celestial who had engineered the downfall of the Mithral Mage's phylactery from within and who must have resurrected the conscripts after their success - fetched a tray of strong ale from the back. Skevros found himself taking an unaccustomed long draft while piecing together the story of what had happened. They let Wizard-Pants do most of the talking; wizard-types were best at explaining magical esoterica to other wizard-types.

Then, in the middle of the explanations, a disembodied voice called out from the vicinity of Kaspar's right hand. "If you are hearing this message, you have been instrumental in the destruction of Alexandros and my soul is finally freed from this mortal plane," said the feminine voice; Kaspar immediately identified it as that of Tenryu, the blue-bronze dragon hybrid who had adventured in human guise with Zehkar and his band. "My hoard will be lonely without me. My claw is the key, though you will still have to face the defenses I put in place. Surely you can handle a few traps and golems."

"Another dragon hoard - only this time with no dragon?" asked Syngaard, swigging the remains of his ale and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Sounds like a payin' mission!"

- - -

This gaming session was one of our shortest in history; I don't think Logan had expected Daleth to come out with his highest-level spells up front, as Joey usually likes saving the "big stuff" in case he needs it later. But we knew this was a one-battle fight so everything we'd be fighting was already right there in one place, and we also suspected that the brain golem could mind blast us like an illithid (and Syngaard has plenty of personal experience with standing there like an idiot after being mind blasted - it's not a lot of fun!), so we convinced Joey to start off big this time. And did he ever! The meteor swarm was a "personal best" for Daleth's one-round damage output; Orion likewise had a "personal best" with a round of full sneak attacks (while hasted!) against the brain golem, and of course all of Kaspar's attacks had been empowered by the Heart of the Flames he was using for this combat so he probably hit a one-round personal best as well.

And now, with the osteovox demiplane that made up his phylactery destroyed, the slain Mithral Mage will no longer be able to reform his body, so he's been permanently dealt with. After we go raid Tenryu's treasure hoard, we'll need to take out the Hope Ender and take care of the invading Ossirnians - and then we'll call it a campaign, after about 60 adventures all told.

Logan's already planning out the campaign he wants to run next. And in the meantime, Galen, Kaspar, and Syngaard all advanced up to 18th level after this adventure.