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Adventures in the Eastern Provinces
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<blockquote data-quote="the Jester" data-source="post: 7589340" data-attributes="member: 1210"><p>General Habrael says, “We view religion as primitive and unnecessary. It's a relic of the past, of an era before we understood the cosmos. So while we don't endorse it, we don't regulate faiths any more than we regulate any other kind of pact-making with powerful outsiders.”</p><p></p><p>Shar sniffs.</p><p></p><p>“No offense intended. If I might ask, since you're a cleric, what faith do you follow?”</p><p></p><p>She answers, “I'm a priest of the Sword Cult.”</p><p></p><p>“Ah, so you don't even have a god- unless you're one of those who has deified the Sword Emperor?”</p><p></p><p>“Thrush was just a man, but he is a great example of the quest for perfection in one's chosen area. He didn't become the greatest swordsman of his age by accident. He devoted himself to seeking the pinnacle of his skills, and he achieved it.”</p><p></p><p>Habrael nods. “Indeed. He was just a man. I'm glad you are one of the more rational types, rather than- well, anyway. As you can see, a cleric doesn't need a god to channel magic. You are akin to a sorcerer- a natural talent, using faith as a prop to aid you. Think of your religion as being like the wand or staff a wizard might use to direct his powers.”</p><p></p><p>“Uh huh,” Shar says. She is clearly unconvinced.</p><p></p><p>“And what is a god anyway?” the general continues. “Yes, gods are very powerful- but so are demon princes and arch-devils. Indeed, such a being might be more powerful than some gods! You can go to a god's home, if you know where it is. They aren't some kind of luminous entity that is somehow different from other creatures. They're just ultra-powerful outsiders. And what is the difference between beseeching a god for magic and making a deal with some other ultra-powerful entity? Clerics really are nothing more than warlocks who are largely ignorant of the fact that they're warlocks.”</p><p></p><p>“What does all this have to do with this cult of Tenebrous?” Kane demands. </p><p></p><p>General Habrael sighs. “I am trying to illustrate why we haven't taken any action against them up until now. We don't regulate religions, we regulate behavior. If a faith's followers act in an... antisocial manner, we prosecute those followers for the actions that they have taken, not for what they believe.”</p><p></p><p>“But surely you have some limits,” Karl says. “Surely you don't allow, for instance, a cult devoted to a demon or devil to flourish.”</p><p></p><p>“Oh, please,” Habrael retorts, disdain plain in his voice. “We are an enlightened civilization. Belief is belief, and a supposed good deity is fundamentally no different than the darkest demon prince. They are all powers to be drawn upon. Yes, some of those powers are more prone to provoke people to behave improperly, but so what? It is ultimately the choice of the person whether to accede to the demands of such a provocation. Just as not all followers of a good deity will be good themselves, not all followers of a demon prince will act out in destructive ways.”</p><p></p><p>“I guess you can't really control what people believe anyway,” Sepia puts in.</p><p></p><p>“Certainly we could! Make no mistake about that! Controlling thoughts and beliefs is well within the purview of enchantment magic. But we prefer not to do such things. It's an unnecessary expenditure of effort in most cases; it's usually far preferable to regulate the behavior in question.”</p><p></p><p>“Getting back to the Tenebrous cult,” Shifty says, “what can you tell us about them?”</p><p></p><p>“Very little.” Habrael steeples his fingers in front of him. “We do know that they have a headquarters of sorts, apparently called Tscire Nobi. According to our intelligence, it's on an island somewhere on White Lake.”</p><p></p><p>Moab speaks up. “To be clear, that's the lake that we abut.” </p><p></p><p>Habrael continues, “But unfortunately, the lake is choked with mist. This may be a magical effect, but it has been in place for years, so if it is, it's very powerful. You can probably find a boat to hire if you want to try to seek it out, but it's very easy to get lost in the mist.”</p><p></p><p>“I'm sure we can manage,” Karl replies. </p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>But before seeking Tscire Nobi, there is a residuum tasting held in the group's honor. They participate, somewhat warily. To their surprise, they find that there are different flavors and qualities to the different types of residuum on offer.</p><p></p><p>“How do you have so much residuum here?” asks Karl. “Are there that many magic items around that you don't need?”</p><p></p><p>“Oh, no!” Moab replies with a chuckle. “The vast majority of it comes from the mines.”</p><p></p><p>“The what?” Shifty asks.</p><p></p><p>“The residuum mines.”</p><p></p><p>Well, that's a strange statement. As far as the others know, residuum isn't mined at all- it's the result of breaking down magic. They ask for more details about these mines, but Moab is cagey about them, claiming that their location is a state secret. He also seems puzzled by the fact that they aren't aware of the existence of such mines. “Where do you get yours from, then?” he asks.</p><p></p><p>“By disenchanting magic items,” Karl tells him.</p><p></p><p>But though they don't get any further on that particular puzzle during the tasting, they do manage to secure a boat and a pilot named Timon. </p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>As he isn't a wizard, Timon is a resident but not a citizen of the Delphinate. He makes his living through a combination of fishing, piloting on the rare occasions when someone needs to go out on the lake, and scavenging from the massive ruined metropolis of Makon, which lies spread to the south and west of the Delphinate proper. “Before the end, it completely surrounded White Lake,” he tells our heroes, then shrugs. “Lots of it was burnt during the war, and then the Delphinate relocated here.” Though he's happy to ramble on about such matters, it soon becomes clear that his tales are a mixture of his faulty memory, hearsay, and rumor; how reliable they are is uncertain.</p><p></p><p>Timon is a skilled pilot. He claims to know the lake as well as anyone, but swears up and down that there is no isle large enough to hold a shrine or temple anywhere far from shore. He admits to having heard rumors of Tscire Nobi, but says, “I've been all over this lake and I've never seen it.”</p><p></p><p>“Well, let's try and find it anyway,” answers Shar. “Think of this as a leisurely day of getting paid to row us around.”</p><p></p><p>“As you say.”</p><p></p><p>But the thick fog seems truly impenetrable. By the time they are a hundred yards from shore, almost all they can see is the boat, surrounded by a sea of white. Even the surface of the water is a light gray color, seen fuzzily through the vapors rising from it. </p><p></p><p>Karl closes his eyes. “I can feel the magic here.” He lifts a hand. “Flowing... a combination of illusion and weather magic.”</p><p></p><p>“Can you follow it to its source?” asks Shifty.</p><p></p><p>“I'll try.”</p><p></p><p>“As for you,” Shar tells Timon, “try to find the center of the lake.”</p><p></p><p>“As you say,” the pilot replies.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>The search is fruitless and frustrating. They return to shore well after full dark with no idea whether they went anywhere near the alleged island they're looking for.</p><p></p><p>“It could have been fifty feet from us,” Shifty complains, “and we never would have seen it.”</p><p></p><p>Timon taps his ear. “There's more than sight.” He sighs. “But I didn't hear any sign of it, either.”</p><p></p><p>Shar disembarks and places her hands on her hips. “Just because we didn't find it in one day doesn't mean it isn't there. We'll try again tomorrow.”</p><p></p><p>“Aye,” rumbles Kane, “and with luck, this time we'll find something to wet my blade.”</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>But the lake is huge, and the magic concealing the island- for Karl is now convinced that is what he is sensing- is powerful indeed. Try though he might, he can't unravel it. And though he has explored White Lake for decades, Timon's senses are baffled by the mists.</p><p></p><p><em>We just have to be persistent.</em> PHUQ-69 communicates with the others through telepathy, enjoying the quiet of the water as dusk settles in on a second day of failed searching.</p><p></p><p>The shardmind is right. A few more long days of searching ensue; and finally, the party finds some evidence that they are on the right track. </p><p></p><p>They are attacked. </p><p></p><p>A trio of ghouls rises up from the water, trying to pull Timon into the water. Kane and P-69 intervene with decisive violence, killing two of the ghouls and driving the third back into the water, where it swims rapidly away.</p><p></p><p>“Follow that ghoul!” yells Shifty.</p><p></p><p>Indeed, that seems to be the break the party needs, and in short order, they draw another attack. Again, the party manages to drive the swimming ghouls back, after which Sepia comments, “You know, if you were a Kree, we'd have to call you Kar-El.” She grins at Karl.</p><p></p><p>“Hmph,” he replies.</p><p></p><p>Timon pursues the lacedons as best he can. Moab and Karl try to guide him by tracing the magic to its source, theorizing that it's probably centered on the isle that it is designed to conceal, while Shifty and Sepia listen intently, helping to guide Timon's pursuit of the receding undead. </p><p></p><p>And at last, their efforts are rewarded!</p><p></p><p>Within the thickest part of the fog, a lumpy isle slowly resolves. Timon hisses and pushes away from it, almost scraping the hull of his boat against sharp rocks, so sudden is the island's appearance. </p><p></p><p>“Quietly,” mutters Shifty. </p><p></p><p>Slowly they paddle all around the tiny islet. They can't see much of it, due to the thick fog, but they find a rickety wooden pier with three small rowboats tied up. </p><p></p><p>“All right,” Shifty whispers. “This is the place.”</p><p></p><p>The party disembarks. </p><p></p><p>“Well, good luck to you all,” Timon says.</p><p></p><p>“Wait a minute! Where are you going? You can't just leave us here!” protests P-69.</p><p></p><p>“Surely you don't think I'm going to stay here waiting for some crazy cultists to come grab me! I'm not deaf, I've been listening to you people!”</p><p></p><p>Shar presses a large gem into Timon's hand. “Just wait for us for a little while.”</p><p></p><p>He hesitates, then nods. “I'll wait 'til dark. That should give you a few hours.”</p><p></p><p>“Good enough,” she replies.</p><p></p><p>Kane grins, baring his teeth. “That should be plenty of time to put anything here to the sword.”</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>Bone Isle, as it is called by the cult, is a huge pile of discarded stones and rocks formed over the course of seven centuries. During the glory days of the Sword Empire, the quarry used a teleport circle to throw away unusable and inferior bits of stone. The circle deposited the discarded material on the bottom of White Lake, and the pile grew and grew until it eventually jutted above the relatively shallow section of the lake. In the centuries since, the wind brought a substantial accumulation of dirt, now covering much of the rocks. At the top of the island is a cluster of crude huts and a pen full of zombies which surround a creepy-looking hall of worship constructed from pieces of rock mortared together.</p><p></p><p>“I think this is the place,” Shifty murmurs. “They have zombie livestock!”</p><p></p><p>The party advances up the slope. As they reach the plateau where the huts and pen are, the zombies remain quiescent, shuffling about in their pen without any seeming purpose.</p><p></p><p>“I think our destination is obvious.” Karl gestures at the stone shrine. A large skull is painted across the door.</p><p></p><p>Kane strides forward, but the door swings wide before he reaches it. </p><p></p><p>An undead child stands there- a boy of perhaps ten years at the time of death.</p><p></p><p>Our heroes are stunned by its appearance for an instant. Likewise, it seems surprised. But it recovers first, and emits a piercing shriek.</p><p></p><p>The zombies find sudden purpose. </p><p></p><p>Worse yet, people start to emerge from the huts: chain armored, with maces whose heads are fashioned to resemble skulls. In moments, overwhelming numbers pour out around our heroes. </p><p></p><p>Which is just what Kane has been waiting for.</p><p></p><p>He bellows a battle cry and begins hacking around himself, cutting a swath through the lackeys of Tenebrous. Then a <em>fireball</em> explodes, and suddenly most of the cultists are down. It is followed a moment later by a well-placed <em>beguiling strands</em> that slays many of the zombies.</p><p></p><p>Shar, Sepia, Shifty, and P-69 surround the undead child and mercilessly take it apart. </p><p></p><p>In a shockingly short amount of time, the party cuts their foes down.</p><p></p><p>“We're good at this!” Sepia giggles.</p><p></p><p>“It's not over yet,” P-69 replies, kicking the temple door back open.</p><p></p><p>It's small enough to be a single chamber. Pews take up much of the interior, with a large altar made of stacked bones at the far end. Columns support the unsteady-looking ceiling. Two large charnel pits, 50' deep, hold jagged bones that cover their floors.</p><p></p><p>Another corrupted offspring is within, this one made from the cadaver a girl of around six years. It falls even quicker than the first, put down as an act of mercy.</p><p></p><p>“Look,” Sepia says. She points into one of the charnel pits. At the bottom, a door is set into the pit's side. A quick look confirms that the other pit has a matching door.</p><p></p><p>“It certainly doesn't look like there's any information up here,” Karl comments. “Hopefully, there's something more illuminating through there.”</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>As soon as the doors open, the fat demon beyond rips a chunk from its belly and hurls it at the party.</p><p></p><p>“Look out!” cries Moab. </p><p></p><p>The flesh explodes, spraying flesh, blood, and flame everywhere. The heroes are all blasted by it, staggering and shouting in pain. </p><p></p><p>Kane doesn't hesitate a moment. He rushes forward, jamming his sword into the monster.</p><p>He roars, throwing a shoulder into the demon and ripping his blade free in a shower of gore.</p><p></p><p>Something else bounds in- another cultist. This one, unlike his fellows above, is filthy. He stinks of rotten flesh, and as he arrives, he is chewing on what appears to be a human ear. He is an eater of the dead. </p><p></p><p>“I bring you the blessing of death!” he shrieks, lurching forward and trying to bite Kane. The barbarian jerks back, and the eater of the dead keeps moving, rushing into the middle of the party, biting at everyone who tries to hurt it. “Prepare to feel the caress of oblivion! Only dying can save you from life!!” </p><p></p><p>Then, suddenly, Karl and Shifty, who are in the rear of the party, feel a strong pull as the charnel pits behind them begin to pull at them, sucking a massive amount of air.</p><p>Both throw themselves forward, putting enough distance from the pits to be out of their range.</p><p></p><p>P-69 and Sepia flank the fat demon, which pulls more gobs of flesh from itself. Each one explodes when the monster hurls them, and it seems to be fearless, even throwing a glob of its side at its feet in order to harm all of its attackers at once. Sepia wobbles and falls to one knee.</p><p></p><p>Shifty cries, “You can do it!”, and Sepia clenches her fists, her jaw; rises to her feet; and cracks her whip again.*</p><p></p><p>Things begin to turn in our heroes' favor. But just then, the vampire arrives, flanked by more cultists. It isn't obvious that he is anything more than a cultist leader until his eyes catch those of Kane, momentarily captivating the barbarian.</p><p></p><p>Shar focuses her powers on the vampire, and the others soon finish with the demon. The eater of the dead finds itself pushed into the middle of the vampire's formation by Moab's <em>beguiling strands,</em> where Karl blasts the mass of villains. </p><p></p><p>“Fools!” cries the vampire. “Tenebrous will devour your souls!”</p><p></p><p>Not yet. Not today.</p><p></p><p>Another <em>flame burst,</em> another <em>beguiling strands,</em> and a flurry of attacks by everyone else- and the followers of Tenebrous fall.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>The dungeon beneath the small temple is now empty of inhabitants, as the party ascertains as they explore. They drew everything to them during the battle. </p><p></p><p>The hall that the fight took place in is crudely painted with scenes of demons and the undead overrunning and devouring civilized folk. The overarching theme seems to be that giving oneself up to become undead is the only salvation. Beyond the doors leading deeper into the place is a ritual room, painted with more scenes of undead and demonkind slaughtering humans, dwarves, elves and their ilk, etc. The floor has several summoning diagrams inscribed upon it to aid in the summoning of demons, as well as various runes, sigils and glyphs of evil portent and vile nature.</p><p></p><p>Passages out lead to a number of large rooms holding a bed and small dresser, as well as a pyramid of bones with candles and incense burning upon it. Clearly, these are the chambers of some of the adepts of Tenebrous. </p><p></p><p>A door leads to a cell block, the cells in which are unlocked. Three of them have recently-dead corpses in them. It is apparent that something has gnawed on them. One of the corpses is a naked dwarf; the second is a well-dressed Delphinite half-elf; and the third was a smartly-dressed hobgoblin.</p><p></p><p>Prodding the half-elf body with his toe, Moab remarks, “Looks like we now have evidence that this cult is dangerous.”</p><p></p><p>Another chamber is almost bare. Its sole feature is a coffin, well-padded, with some dirt inside it. “I think we know what this is.” Shar spits on it. </p><p></p><p>“There's no reason to leave the vampire a possible home if it ever comes back,” Moab says, and Karl and he blast it to pieces with their spells. </p><p></p><p>They also find an ossuary, lined with bones and skulls taken from humanoids of all kinds. A comfortable majority are goblinoid, but there are plenty of elven, human, dwarf, halfling, orc and kobold skulls, a number of other reptilian humanoids such as dragonborn and lizardfolk, gnoll, goliath, gnome and even a single tabaxi skull. </p><p></p><p>“Charming,” mutters P-69.</p><p></p><p>From off the side of the ossuary, a steep slope (about thirty degrees) drops down into a shaft of filthy water about 60' deep; from the smell, it seems that this is where the cultists dispose of their waste and trash.</p><p></p><p>Shar nudges Shifty. “You should climb down there and see if there's any treasure.”</p><p></p><p>“Hell no,” the gnome retorts. “How about we drop a rope and let you down to check it out?”</p><p></p><p>“That's okay. I'll pass.”</p><p></p><p>Nobody else is interested in volunteering, so they leave the pissery behind.</p><p></p><p>But now it seems as though they have explored the entire subterranean level without finding any information. “Maybe we should have taken a prisoner,” Karl sighs.</p><p></p><p>“They were demon worshipers,” Kane replies. “Such foul people deserve life not.”</p><p></p><p>“Yeah, but we need information.”</p><p></p><p>Shifty says, “Maybe there's a secret door or something.”</p><p></p><p>The party investigates the place, and after a time, Sepia finds a secret door leading out of the ritual chamber. The party forms up and opens the passage warily, but there is no trouble behind it- just a library. </p><p></p><p>“Eureka,” says Karl. </p><p></p><p>They move in eagerly. There are dozens of books to pour through. The party starts examining them. </p><p></p><p>Kane scowls. “Books! I like it not.”</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>There is only so much time available before Timon leaves. They return to the boat; the mist is thinning substantially. </p><p></p><p>“Think we can find our way back tomorrow?” P-69 asks. </p><p></p><p>“Yes,” Moab states unequivocally. </p><p></p><p>By the time they reach him, Timon's terror has grown beyond all reason. “There are still ghouls in the water,” he claims. As they push away from the island, moving into the darkening gloom, he tells them that he won't return on the morrow. </p><p></p><p>“We'll find another pilot,” Shifty says.</p><p></p><p>“Fine by me. Good luck.”</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>The party returns in the morning, and this time it's far easier to find Bone Island. It is as if the presence of the cultists somehow reinforced the magic concealing the place. </p><p></p><p>Kane stands guard, not being interested in reading. With a few hours' work, the others gleans much. First, that the library is part of a research project. The research information seems to focus on things that were deemed lost forever but then recovered. The basic gist is that whoever did this research was looking for ways to find that which cannot be found.</p><p></p><p>This much merely confirms what our heroes had already learned. But there is more- far more. </p><p></p><p>A new “exarch” of Tenebrous is rising in the Underdark, whatever that means. </p><p></p><p>“An exarch,” Karl lectures, “is a powerful entity in service to a god or being of godlike powers. Basically, it's like a deity's right-hand-man.”</p><p></p><p>From the tone, Quah-Nomag- whose writings these seem to be- finds this troubling. In order to fully attain the rank of exarch, the fellow who is rising-“Zirithian”- must assault the Drow city of Phaervorul in order to sacrifice enough soul energy to Tenebrous, and he then plans to unleash a horde of undead on the surface in order to distract “those backwater meddlers from Overland”. </p><p></p><p>“What the hell is a Drow?” asks Shar.</p><p></p><p>Nobody has an answer. </p><p></p><p>“Look at this,” says Moab. He has found the coordinates to a teleport circle in the Underdark that is, according to the notes on the same page, “not far above Phaervorul, which lies past the Mushroom Forest.”</p><p></p><p>Shifty looks up from another set of writings. “It says here that Quah-Nomag brought information back from the Tower of Deryndradin here. It looks like he confirmed that whatever he is searching for was obscured by extremely powerful ritual magic that wiped all memory of it from existence. That's some trick!”</p><p></p><p>“Are you done yet?” demands Kane. “I grow bored.”</p><p></p><p>“Just hold tight, big guy,” Sepia replies. </p><p></p><p>More reading finds that Quah-Nomag may have found a solution to the problem of how to find what he seeks. It seems that there is a place called the Mountain of Ultimate Winter, deep in the Elemental Chaos. This place is so cold that everything, even thought, freezes there. Quah-Nomag believes that it is possible that memory of that which he seeks exists as one or more ice crystals guarded by strange beings called immoths, described as icy giants with incredible mastery of runic magic.</p><p></p><p>“I think,” says Shar, “this little escapade has paid off big time.”</p><p></p><p><em><strong>Next Time:</strong></em> Our heroes must answer a desperate plea for help! Return to Moonstair!</p><p></p><p></p><p>*Shifty has multiclassed into warlord.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="the Jester, post: 7589340, member: 1210"] General Habrael says, “We view religion as primitive and unnecessary. It's a relic of the past, of an era before we understood the cosmos. So while we don't endorse it, we don't regulate faiths any more than we regulate any other kind of pact-making with powerful outsiders.” Shar sniffs. “No offense intended. If I might ask, since you're a cleric, what faith do you follow?” She answers, “I'm a priest of the Sword Cult.” “Ah, so you don't even have a god- unless you're one of those who has deified the Sword Emperor?” “Thrush was just a man, but he is a great example of the quest for perfection in one's chosen area. He didn't become the greatest swordsman of his age by accident. He devoted himself to seeking the pinnacle of his skills, and he achieved it.” Habrael nods. “Indeed. He was just a man. I'm glad you are one of the more rational types, rather than- well, anyway. As you can see, a cleric doesn't need a god to channel magic. You are akin to a sorcerer- a natural talent, using faith as a prop to aid you. Think of your religion as being like the wand or staff a wizard might use to direct his powers.” “Uh huh,” Shar says. She is clearly unconvinced. “And what is a god anyway?” the general continues. “Yes, gods are very powerful- but so are demon princes and arch-devils. Indeed, such a being might be more powerful than some gods! You can go to a god's home, if you know where it is. They aren't some kind of luminous entity that is somehow different from other creatures. They're just ultra-powerful outsiders. And what is the difference between beseeching a god for magic and making a deal with some other ultra-powerful entity? Clerics really are nothing more than warlocks who are largely ignorant of the fact that they're warlocks.” “What does all this have to do with this cult of Tenebrous?” Kane demands. General Habrael sighs. “I am trying to illustrate why we haven't taken any action against them up until now. We don't regulate religions, we regulate behavior. If a faith's followers act in an... antisocial manner, we prosecute those followers for the actions that they have taken, not for what they believe.” “But surely you have some limits,” Karl says. “Surely you don't allow, for instance, a cult devoted to a demon or devil to flourish.” “Oh, please,” Habrael retorts, disdain plain in his voice. “We are an enlightened civilization. Belief is belief, and a supposed good deity is fundamentally no different than the darkest demon prince. They are all powers to be drawn upon. Yes, some of those powers are more prone to provoke people to behave improperly, but so what? It is ultimately the choice of the person whether to accede to the demands of such a provocation. Just as not all followers of a good deity will be good themselves, not all followers of a demon prince will act out in destructive ways.” “I guess you can't really control what people believe anyway,” Sepia puts in. “Certainly we could! Make no mistake about that! Controlling thoughts and beliefs is well within the purview of enchantment magic. But we prefer not to do such things. It's an unnecessary expenditure of effort in most cases; it's usually far preferable to regulate the behavior in question.” “Getting back to the Tenebrous cult,” Shifty says, “what can you tell us about them?” “Very little.” Habrael steeples his fingers in front of him. “We do know that they have a headquarters of sorts, apparently called Tscire Nobi. According to our intelligence, it's on an island somewhere on White Lake.” Moab speaks up. “To be clear, that's the lake that we abut.” Habrael continues, “But unfortunately, the lake is choked with mist. This may be a magical effect, but it has been in place for years, so if it is, it's very powerful. You can probably find a boat to hire if you want to try to seek it out, but it's very easy to get lost in the mist.” “I'm sure we can manage,” Karl replies. *** But before seeking Tscire Nobi, there is a residuum tasting held in the group's honor. They participate, somewhat warily. To their surprise, they find that there are different flavors and qualities to the different types of residuum on offer. “How do you have so much residuum here?” asks Karl. “Are there that many magic items around that you don't need?” “Oh, no!” Moab replies with a chuckle. “The vast majority of it comes from the mines.” “The what?” Shifty asks. “The residuum mines.” Well, that's a strange statement. As far as the others know, residuum isn't mined at all- it's the result of breaking down magic. They ask for more details about these mines, but Moab is cagey about them, claiming that their location is a state secret. He also seems puzzled by the fact that they aren't aware of the existence of such mines. “Where do you get yours from, then?” he asks. “By disenchanting magic items,” Karl tells him. But though they don't get any further on that particular puzzle during the tasting, they do manage to secure a boat and a pilot named Timon. *** As he isn't a wizard, Timon is a resident but not a citizen of the Delphinate. He makes his living through a combination of fishing, piloting on the rare occasions when someone needs to go out on the lake, and scavenging from the massive ruined metropolis of Makon, which lies spread to the south and west of the Delphinate proper. “Before the end, it completely surrounded White Lake,” he tells our heroes, then shrugs. “Lots of it was burnt during the war, and then the Delphinate relocated here.” Though he's happy to ramble on about such matters, it soon becomes clear that his tales are a mixture of his faulty memory, hearsay, and rumor; how reliable they are is uncertain. Timon is a skilled pilot. He claims to know the lake as well as anyone, but swears up and down that there is no isle large enough to hold a shrine or temple anywhere far from shore. He admits to having heard rumors of Tscire Nobi, but says, “I've been all over this lake and I've never seen it.” “Well, let's try and find it anyway,” answers Shar. “Think of this as a leisurely day of getting paid to row us around.” “As you say.” But the thick fog seems truly impenetrable. By the time they are a hundred yards from shore, almost all they can see is the boat, surrounded by a sea of white. Even the surface of the water is a light gray color, seen fuzzily through the vapors rising from it. Karl closes his eyes. “I can feel the magic here.” He lifts a hand. “Flowing... a combination of illusion and weather magic.” “Can you follow it to its source?” asks Shifty. “I'll try.” “As for you,” Shar tells Timon, “try to find the center of the lake.” “As you say,” the pilot replies. *** The search is fruitless and frustrating. They return to shore well after full dark with no idea whether they went anywhere near the alleged island they're looking for. “It could have been fifty feet from us,” Shifty complains, “and we never would have seen it.” Timon taps his ear. “There's more than sight.” He sighs. “But I didn't hear any sign of it, either.” Shar disembarks and places her hands on her hips. “Just because we didn't find it in one day doesn't mean it isn't there. We'll try again tomorrow.” “Aye,” rumbles Kane, “and with luck, this time we'll find something to wet my blade.” *** But the lake is huge, and the magic concealing the island- for Karl is now convinced that is what he is sensing- is powerful indeed. Try though he might, he can't unravel it. And though he has explored White Lake for decades, Timon's senses are baffled by the mists. [i]We just have to be persistent.[/i] PHUQ-69 communicates with the others through telepathy, enjoying the quiet of the water as dusk settles in on a second day of failed searching. The shardmind is right. A few more long days of searching ensue; and finally, the party finds some evidence that they are on the right track. They are attacked. A trio of ghouls rises up from the water, trying to pull Timon into the water. Kane and P-69 intervene with decisive violence, killing two of the ghouls and driving the third back into the water, where it swims rapidly away. “Follow that ghoul!” yells Shifty. Indeed, that seems to be the break the party needs, and in short order, they draw another attack. Again, the party manages to drive the swimming ghouls back, after which Sepia comments, “You know, if you were a Kree, we'd have to call you Kar-El.” She grins at Karl. “Hmph,” he replies. Timon pursues the lacedons as best he can. Moab and Karl try to guide him by tracing the magic to its source, theorizing that it's probably centered on the isle that it is designed to conceal, while Shifty and Sepia listen intently, helping to guide Timon's pursuit of the receding undead. And at last, their efforts are rewarded! Within the thickest part of the fog, a lumpy isle slowly resolves. Timon hisses and pushes away from it, almost scraping the hull of his boat against sharp rocks, so sudden is the island's appearance. “Quietly,” mutters Shifty. Slowly they paddle all around the tiny islet. They can't see much of it, due to the thick fog, but they find a rickety wooden pier with three small rowboats tied up. “All right,” Shifty whispers. “This is the place.” The party disembarks. “Well, good luck to you all,” Timon says. “Wait a minute! Where are you going? You can't just leave us here!” protests P-69. “Surely you don't think I'm going to stay here waiting for some crazy cultists to come grab me! I'm not deaf, I've been listening to you people!” Shar presses a large gem into Timon's hand. “Just wait for us for a little while.” He hesitates, then nods. “I'll wait 'til dark. That should give you a few hours.” “Good enough,” she replies. Kane grins, baring his teeth. “That should be plenty of time to put anything here to the sword.” *** Bone Isle, as it is called by the cult, is a huge pile of discarded stones and rocks formed over the course of seven centuries. During the glory days of the Sword Empire, the quarry used a teleport circle to throw away unusable and inferior bits of stone. The circle deposited the discarded material on the bottom of White Lake, and the pile grew and grew until it eventually jutted above the relatively shallow section of the lake. In the centuries since, the wind brought a substantial accumulation of dirt, now covering much of the rocks. At the top of the island is a cluster of crude huts and a pen full of zombies which surround a creepy-looking hall of worship constructed from pieces of rock mortared together. “I think this is the place,” Shifty murmurs. “They have zombie livestock!” The party advances up the slope. As they reach the plateau where the huts and pen are, the zombies remain quiescent, shuffling about in their pen without any seeming purpose. “I think our destination is obvious.” Karl gestures at the stone shrine. A large skull is painted across the door. Kane strides forward, but the door swings wide before he reaches it. An undead child stands there- a boy of perhaps ten years at the time of death. Our heroes are stunned by its appearance for an instant. Likewise, it seems surprised. But it recovers first, and emits a piercing shriek. The zombies find sudden purpose. Worse yet, people start to emerge from the huts: chain armored, with maces whose heads are fashioned to resemble skulls. In moments, overwhelming numbers pour out around our heroes. Which is just what Kane has been waiting for. He bellows a battle cry and begins hacking around himself, cutting a swath through the lackeys of Tenebrous. Then a [i]fireball[/i] explodes, and suddenly most of the cultists are down. It is followed a moment later by a well-placed [i]beguiling strands[/i] that slays many of the zombies. Shar, Sepia, Shifty, and P-69 surround the undead child and mercilessly take it apart. In a shockingly short amount of time, the party cuts their foes down. “We're good at this!” Sepia giggles. “It's not over yet,” P-69 replies, kicking the temple door back open. It's small enough to be a single chamber. Pews take up much of the interior, with a large altar made of stacked bones at the far end. Columns support the unsteady-looking ceiling. Two large charnel pits, 50' deep, hold jagged bones that cover their floors. Another corrupted offspring is within, this one made from the cadaver a girl of around six years. It falls even quicker than the first, put down as an act of mercy. “Look,” Sepia says. She points into one of the charnel pits. At the bottom, a door is set into the pit's side. A quick look confirms that the other pit has a matching door. “It certainly doesn't look like there's any information up here,” Karl comments. “Hopefully, there's something more illuminating through there.” *** As soon as the doors open, the fat demon beyond rips a chunk from its belly and hurls it at the party. “Look out!” cries Moab. The flesh explodes, spraying flesh, blood, and flame everywhere. The heroes are all blasted by it, staggering and shouting in pain. Kane doesn't hesitate a moment. He rushes forward, jamming his sword into the monster. He roars, throwing a shoulder into the demon and ripping his blade free in a shower of gore. Something else bounds in- another cultist. This one, unlike his fellows above, is filthy. He stinks of rotten flesh, and as he arrives, he is chewing on what appears to be a human ear. He is an eater of the dead. “I bring you the blessing of death!” he shrieks, lurching forward and trying to bite Kane. The barbarian jerks back, and the eater of the dead keeps moving, rushing into the middle of the party, biting at everyone who tries to hurt it. “Prepare to feel the caress of oblivion! Only dying can save you from life!!” Then, suddenly, Karl and Shifty, who are in the rear of the party, feel a strong pull as the charnel pits behind them begin to pull at them, sucking a massive amount of air. Both throw themselves forward, putting enough distance from the pits to be out of their range. P-69 and Sepia flank the fat demon, which pulls more gobs of flesh from itself. Each one explodes when the monster hurls them, and it seems to be fearless, even throwing a glob of its side at its feet in order to harm all of its attackers at once. Sepia wobbles and falls to one knee. Shifty cries, “You can do it!”, and Sepia clenches her fists, her jaw; rises to her feet; and cracks her whip again.* Things begin to turn in our heroes' favor. But just then, the vampire arrives, flanked by more cultists. It isn't obvious that he is anything more than a cultist leader until his eyes catch those of Kane, momentarily captivating the barbarian. Shar focuses her powers on the vampire, and the others soon finish with the demon. The eater of the dead finds itself pushed into the middle of the vampire's formation by Moab's [i]beguiling strands,[/i] where Karl blasts the mass of villains. “Fools!” cries the vampire. “Tenebrous will devour your souls!” Not yet. Not today. Another [i]flame burst,[/i] another [i]beguiling strands,[/i] and a flurry of attacks by everyone else- and the followers of Tenebrous fall. *** The dungeon beneath the small temple is now empty of inhabitants, as the party ascertains as they explore. They drew everything to them during the battle. The hall that the fight took place in is crudely painted with scenes of demons and the undead overrunning and devouring civilized folk. The overarching theme seems to be that giving oneself up to become undead is the only salvation. Beyond the doors leading deeper into the place is a ritual room, painted with more scenes of undead and demonkind slaughtering humans, dwarves, elves and their ilk, etc. The floor has several summoning diagrams inscribed upon it to aid in the summoning of demons, as well as various runes, sigils and glyphs of evil portent and vile nature. Passages out lead to a number of large rooms holding a bed and small dresser, as well as a pyramid of bones with candles and incense burning upon it. Clearly, these are the chambers of some of the adepts of Tenebrous. A door leads to a cell block, the cells in which are unlocked. Three of them have recently-dead corpses in them. It is apparent that something has gnawed on them. One of the corpses is a naked dwarf; the second is a well-dressed Delphinite half-elf; and the third was a smartly-dressed hobgoblin. Prodding the half-elf body with his toe, Moab remarks, “Looks like we now have evidence that this cult is dangerous.” Another chamber is almost bare. Its sole feature is a coffin, well-padded, with some dirt inside it. “I think we know what this is.” Shar spits on it. “There's no reason to leave the vampire a possible home if it ever comes back,” Moab says, and Karl and he blast it to pieces with their spells. They also find an ossuary, lined with bones and skulls taken from humanoids of all kinds. A comfortable majority are goblinoid, but there are plenty of elven, human, dwarf, halfling, orc and kobold skulls, a number of other reptilian humanoids such as dragonborn and lizardfolk, gnoll, goliath, gnome and even a single tabaxi skull. “Charming,” mutters P-69. From off the side of the ossuary, a steep slope (about thirty degrees) drops down into a shaft of filthy water about 60' deep; from the smell, it seems that this is where the cultists dispose of their waste and trash. Shar nudges Shifty. “You should climb down there and see if there's any treasure.” “Hell no,” the gnome retorts. “How about we drop a rope and let you down to check it out?” “That's okay. I'll pass.” Nobody else is interested in volunteering, so they leave the pissery behind. But now it seems as though they have explored the entire subterranean level without finding any information. “Maybe we should have taken a prisoner,” Karl sighs. “They were demon worshipers,” Kane replies. “Such foul people deserve life not.” “Yeah, but we need information.” Shifty says, “Maybe there's a secret door or something.” The party investigates the place, and after a time, Sepia finds a secret door leading out of the ritual chamber. The party forms up and opens the passage warily, but there is no trouble behind it- just a library. “Eureka,” says Karl. They move in eagerly. There are dozens of books to pour through. The party starts examining them. Kane scowls. “Books! I like it not.” *** There is only so much time available before Timon leaves. They return to the boat; the mist is thinning substantially. “Think we can find our way back tomorrow?” P-69 asks. “Yes,” Moab states unequivocally. By the time they reach him, Timon's terror has grown beyond all reason. “There are still ghouls in the water,” he claims. As they push away from the island, moving into the darkening gloom, he tells them that he won't return on the morrow. “We'll find another pilot,” Shifty says. “Fine by me. Good luck.” *** The party returns in the morning, and this time it's far easier to find Bone Island. It is as if the presence of the cultists somehow reinforced the magic concealing the place. Kane stands guard, not being interested in reading. With a few hours' work, the others gleans much. First, that the library is part of a research project. The research information seems to focus on things that were deemed lost forever but then recovered. The basic gist is that whoever did this research was looking for ways to find that which cannot be found. This much merely confirms what our heroes had already learned. But there is more- far more. A new “exarch” of Tenebrous is rising in the Underdark, whatever that means. “An exarch,” Karl lectures, “is a powerful entity in service to a god or being of godlike powers. Basically, it's like a deity's right-hand-man.” From the tone, Quah-Nomag- whose writings these seem to be- finds this troubling. In order to fully attain the rank of exarch, the fellow who is rising-“Zirithian”- must assault the Drow city of Phaervorul in order to sacrifice enough soul energy to Tenebrous, and he then plans to unleash a horde of undead on the surface in order to distract “those backwater meddlers from Overland”. “What the hell is a Drow?” asks Shar. Nobody has an answer. “Look at this,” says Moab. He has found the coordinates to a teleport circle in the Underdark that is, according to the notes on the same page, “not far above Phaervorul, which lies past the Mushroom Forest.” Shifty looks up from another set of writings. “It says here that Quah-Nomag brought information back from the Tower of Deryndradin here. It looks like he confirmed that whatever he is searching for was obscured by extremely powerful ritual magic that wiped all memory of it from existence. That's some trick!” “Are you done yet?” demands Kane. “I grow bored.” “Just hold tight, big guy,” Sepia replies. More reading finds that Quah-Nomag may have found a solution to the problem of how to find what he seeks. It seems that there is a place called the Mountain of Ultimate Winter, deep in the Elemental Chaos. This place is so cold that everything, even thought, freezes there. Quah-Nomag believes that it is possible that memory of that which he seeks exists as one or more ice crystals guarded by strange beings called immoths, described as icy giants with incredible mastery of runic magic. “I think,” says Shar, “this little escapade has paid off big time.” [i][b]Next Time:[/b][/i][b][/b] Our heroes must answer a desperate plea for help! Return to Moonstair! *Shifty has multiclassed into warlord. [/QUOTE]
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