AERUNEDAR and Beyond

[Mahiro Satsu]

Cast of Characters

The Company of the Wolf met amongst the revelries and gambols of the Eveningstar Shieldmeet Festival, 1372 DR. Chartered at Eveningstar Hall three days later, they named themselves for Oginali, the moon elf druid’s companion, although the townsfolk had dubbed them the “Company of the Coin,” (for returning an abducted child to his mother and giving her a pouch of gold as well) and still refer to them by this name—much to their chagrin.

Bronn “Spellforger.” He disobeyed his father at Thunderstone to study the Art with the War Wizards of Cormyr, and turned away from Moradin to worship Mystra, and his Clan has not forgiven him. For continuing to use the name that was stripped from him, he has been declared exile and criminal, and when he returns home will face the justice of Clan Trueforger. A joker and a braggart, Bronn is an Invoker with a mission: destroy the enemy with as many explosions as possible. Oh, and insult his cousin Velm every chance he gets. With the discovery of a map that may lead to a lost city of Clan Darkfell, Bronn finds that within his wizard’s breast beats the heart of a true dwarf.

Saeita Neví. Born in Cormanthor, she still remembers the night her tree-village burned and she was spirited away to Shadowtop Monastery (where monks of the Old Order dwell), to begin the training that would last a hundred years. Traveling west to find answers, she was watching from a nearby ridge when Tilverton was eclipsed by shadowy clouds—and looked upon the Black Crater that remained when the sun rose again. Traveling again, she found herself in Eveningstar, and befriended the druid Enina Meliamne just days before Shieldmeet. Silent and enigmatic, Saeita seems to be channeling anger and frustration into her fists and feet.

Enina Meliamne. Born and raised in the King’s Forest, the past of the druid is shrouded in mystery. She is serious in her role as protector, but musical laughter from her mouth is not unknown. It is thought that she trained with the druids of the Knightswood Nine, venerates Rillifane Rallathil, and has adopted Eveningstar as her territory...but why did she vanish into the forests without a trace after a single expedition with the Company of the Wolf?

Van Dyksun. Born and raised in Waymoot, and a devout follower of Selûne, Van Dyksun is a 17-year old among elder dwarves and elves, and he acts like it. White-haired and precocious, he ranged the King’s Forest surrounding Waymoot in his younger days, and learned to hunt orcs during the Ghazneth War. His art became the longbow. But Waymoot proved too small for Van; filled with wanderlust, he set out to the north as a caravan guard. On the way to Eveningstar, he made the acquaintance of a serious and tight-lipped dwarf named Velm.

Velm of Clan Trueforger, Blood of Nor. Blond-haired Velm is descended from great warriors, and he takes the responsibility seriously, worshiping Clangeddin with a dwarven war axe. When the Clanmaster at Thunderstone sent him to hunt down a traitor and criminal at large in Cormyr, he accepted readily, even though the criminal was none other than the bookish cousin he once bullied, young Bronn the “spellforger.” Sure enough, Velm caught up with Bronn at the Shieldmeet Festival—what he didn’t count on was a newfound respect for the dwarven Invoker. Behind the steady stream of insults and jibes they toss at each other, a grudging respect is growing. Will Velm be able to arrest his cousin and return him to Thunderstone?

Daziel. Born in Immersea, Daziel spent her younger days in the study of Selûne’s teachings. With the coming of the Ghazneth War, she turned to books of tactics and strategy, determined to play a part in the protection of her church and of Cormyr. Once she took the silver cloth and joined the clergy, the dreams of the High Moonmistress at Immersea set her a path. The Banites are at work in the north of Cormyr, and Daziel must root out their dark designs and shine the pure pale light of the Moonmaiden upon them. But even more stunning: it is thought that one of the rings of the Moonweb may soon surface again, and the dreams of the High Mistress indicate that Daziel will be the one to find it...

Corwyn Black. Corwyn was born to be a blacksmith. He was raised to be a blacksmith. One problem: he didn’t have any intention of being a blacksmith. He craved adventure, and he craved gold. Period. Greed, more than anything else, motivates this young warrior. He turned down a tour of duty with Cormyr’s army during the Ghazneth War because the pay wasn’t good enough. Instead, he set off toward that famous crypt of hidden riches and magic, the Haunted Halls of Eveningstar. Long on strength but short on common sense, Corwyn puts his hammer to a slightly different use now: the smashing of foes. Or as he puts it, “Bonk-bonk on the head, then take the coins.”

 

[Mahiro Satsu]

Prologue - The Story of Temuel Khiv

I have hunted the necromancer Ruathgrym for two long years...

From the Dales in the east I followed his trail, seeking him all through the Year of the Agate Hammer and the Year of the Storm Skeleton, and almost caught him once while crossing the Thunder Peaks. The Necromancer’s Art brought the walls of the canyon in upon my companions of the Ironbell Fellowship—delaying me long enough for the “Corpsecoil” to slip away, but killing the rest. Now I have finally trailed him into the realm of Esparin. He cannot go far in the deep of winter, and I sense that the Necromancer is close...I am a Holy Blade of Tempus. I can never cease my search, until it be done.

1176 DR, Year of the Prowling Naga, 14 Hammer

On the 14th of Hammer I reach Eveningstar, a tiny hamlet swamped by drifts of snow at the stout Starwater Bridge, in the Northern Marches of Esparin.

It is composed of Tower Redhand, the Jagged Jaws Inn, and Tethyr’s Hardware and Sundries. There are a total of three residences as well, but these are outlying farms to the west.
The “Warrior Queen” Enchara is known to be prowling the region with a large detachment of soldiers. The winter has been harsh indeed, and it is said that Enchara’s forces are here to protect a large caravan of food and supplies headed east to the Dales.

I join my old friend Redhand of Clan Darkfell at his tower this night. The wind howls through the tower battlements and flickers the flames in the hearth where I warm my frozen toes. He built this tower with his stubby, callused hands, Redhand did, just as he built the Starwater Bridge. I drink ale with the dwarf.

“Many troubles that have come knocking with hammers upon my Clan's doors,” he groans.

King Under the Gorge Cindarm is still fighting the Splintered Shin, a vile and cruel tribe of goblins (and deep worgs) that have been assailing Aerunedar for over a year. There seems to be no end to the foul goblins, while the dwarves cannot replenish their armies fast enough to replace the fallen.
“ ‘Tis thought some other Power holds the leash of the Splintered Shin—their strategies are too cunning,” says Redhand, “but neither Cindarm nor his bard Hathos have been able to identify the wurgym bastards. Not yet.”

Then there is the “Bandit King” Rivior, who is planning more raids than he should, in Redhand’s opinion—but how can Rivior refuse the hunger of his men? “We dwarves of Clan Darkfell built for Rivior a fine secret Hall—a back-up for his Keep in Starwater Gorge—but what good if its limestone corridors serve merely as a place for Rivior’s men to starve?”

Redhand claims to know for certain that Rivior is planning to ambush the food caravan despite the presence of the “Warrior Queen” in the region.

Abruptly comes a muffled knock upon the tower’s oaken portal…it is Rivior himself, with his men, on his way to a rendezvous with Myrkul, Lord of Bones. He tells Redhand of his plans, and asks that the dwarf watch over a young boy, no more than eleven, named Ummatin Tencloak.

“Rivior, I do not think this raid is a good idea.” My words are firm.

“My dear Temuel,” says the bandit King with a droll curl of his lip, “I’m touched at your concern. You do not need to worry about me; I and my men will be fine.”

He cannot be dissuaded. They depart into the storm.

With the boy settled, I finally get to the point of my visit: my hunt for Ruathgrym, the Corpsecoil.

“Ruathgrym?” cries Redhand in alarm. “A necromancer? He became Rivior’s pet mage only a month ago.”

“I assure you he is no ‘pet.’ He raised an army of vile undead against the Dales not two years ago, and slew my companions at Thunder Gap.”

“Then we must warn Rivior,” Redhand says simply. He pulls a glassy egg-shaped item from the mantle. “Take this, old friend. Break it at the feet of the necromancer, and no matter how mighty he be, the magics will be wiped from his mind in one stroke.”

Hastily grabbing weapons and furred cloaks, we depart into the frigid howling storm.

A streak of light from the haze of snow.

Redhand’s stone Tower vaporizes into a blossom of bright orange flame. Smoking fragments rain all around us, and the ground trembles as the structure folds upon itself.

It is the Corpsecoil, a tattered black apparition drifting a league off the ground. His pale jade eyes glower down upon us. “Temuel,” he hisses. “You should not have come.”

“Ruathgrym,” I say, reaching for the pommel of the Blood Point, “your time is ended.”

Ruathgrym’s answer is a single word that smashes into my brain. My eyes pound with agony. The snow rushes up to meet me with a chill palm.

As Redhand shouts a hoarse battle cry and brings back his axe to throw, the Corpsecoil pulls a leather glove over one pale hand. A great translucent fist appears beside him. Redhand is scooped from the ground and lifted out over the pond. I reel in despair. I can do nothing.

Redhand is dropped a hundred feet onto the frozen pond, with a great clamor of armor, and there is the high glassy squeal of great panes of ice fracturing. But Redhand stands, defiant, and takes a single step…

…and plunges through the ice.

“Give up, Sir Temuel,” breathes the Corpsecoil. “I am not the only one of my Order who has come to Starwater Gorge. Leave this place before you tempt their wrath as well as mine.”

And abruptly, he is gone.

 

[Mahiro Satsu]

Prologue - The Story of Temuel Khiv part 2

The following hours are a cloudy mess of panic, rousing whatever townsfolk can be found to save Redhand from drowning. But I cannot wait to see the result. I assure that young Ummatin is safe with them, and I set off for the Stronghold of Rivior.

The path rises into the snowy gorge. I trudge for hours, until my leggings are stiff with ice and my legs numb, to find skeletons awaiting me. Awaiting the will of Tempus that turns them back in craven supplication.

The hold is well-decorated with tapestries, warmly lit with torches and braziers. But silent. The stone muffles every sound.

Past the first chamber, a steel portcullis falls behind me with a clang.

Trapped.

In the next room, a pair of great bronze statues greets me, each of them with one arm outstretched to a vault of bronze doors. I open them, releasing the burning lightning of the statues’ hands. It does not stop me.

Nothing will. Not now.

I find him beyond, in the throne room. His pale jade eyes are pitying. “Poor Temuel,” he says. “You should have given up. Your sad devotion to Tempus has cost you your very life.”

I raise the Blood Point. “It is His to do with as he pleases.” In my other hand, I hold the egg…and I hurl it at the Corpsecoil’s feet.

Nothing apparent occurs, but Ruathgrym collapses as though stricken. He holds his head with both hands and screams.

I stride toward him, readying myself to dispense justice.

“Please, Temuel, no! Do not kill me!”

I raise the blade above my shoulder.

“Please! Take the source of my power instead! The thing that allowed me to raise an army of the Risen…” He holds out a yellowish gemstone to me; it is marked with a single rune.

“I will destroy it,” I say, and then you. But as I grasp the stone there is a brilliant flash of light. I am standing within yellow gem walls, close on all sides.

“What is this?” I think. Suddenly the huge and distorted face of Ruathgrym appears upon the gem wall. I hear his muffled voice from the other side.

“You are mine, Sir Temuel of Tempus. I will keep you safe.”

Soon the gem walls go dark. The hours pass. Sometimes I sleep. Or pray.

But I am not hungry, or thirsty. I do not feel my beard growing. Sometimes I am not sure how long I have been daydreaming, or praying, or sleeping. It does not occur to me, for some reason, to mark time. There is no time. Just the darkness.

How long have I been here? I remember who I am. I remember who put me here. I am Temuel Khiv.

Then…light. A face appears upon the walls of the gem, and certainly not Ruathgrym’s. My heart beats eagerly.

Let me free, you fools.

I am Temuel Khiv, and I seek the Corpsecoil.

 

[Mahiro Satsu]

Episode I The Southeast Gatehouse

Characters: Bronn “Spellforger” (shield dwarf Wizard), Enina Meliamne (moon elf Druid), Saeita Neví (wild elf Monk), Van Dyksun (human Ranger), Velm Trueforger (shield dwarf Fighter).

The Year of Wild Magic (1372 DR), Eleasias, The northlands of Cormyr

Shieldmeet—The Shieldmeet festival is less mirthful this year than four winters ago, bearing as it does the taint of recent history. In the crowded market square of the forest village of Eveningstar, four travelers meet a wizard and join him for lunch at the Lonesome Tankard. One of the travelers is the wizard’s cousin, intent on returning him to their home so he can face “justice” for his “crimes.” (i.e. continuing to use the Clan name though he was exiled for studying Wizardry).

Despite this fact, the festivities are enjoyed until late in the evening—long after Lady Tessaril Winter and the village folk have renewed their promises of fealty to one another, long after the dancing and music have ceased, long after farmers’ lamps have been dimmed and the tressym have come out to soar amongst the shadowed branches of trees in moonlight.

Eleasias 1—Before any extradition can occur the next morning, word spreads that a local boy and his friend—Elonn and Talf—vanished the night before, in the company of a tall and dark-haired woman. The five agree to put aside their differences (for the moment), and seek out the missing boys.

On the High Road east of Eveningstar, they come upon a wagon with a broken wheel. Enina calls upon the forest trees to enwrap the merchant and his men-at-arms, while Bronn demonstrates his skill with the crossbow. Soon the merchant—in reality a Thayan slaver—is in custody, and Elonn and Talf are found drugged beneath the wagon’s oilcloth tarp. Upon Elonn’s return to his grateful and weeping mother, the woman dubs these new companions, “The Company of the Coin.”

The admissions of the Thayan slaver lead the Company to a Thayan Enclave west of Eveningstar. They speak with the haughty and imperious Fezarch Hinnar about one of the Red Wizards under her command—the diviner Kizzaf. Hinnar agrees to look into this matter; she will not tolerate actions that threaten the “good standing of this Enclave in the community of Eveningstar.”

But that night the evening victuals of the Company are interrupted by the arrival of Fezarch Hinnar herself at the Lonesome Tankard. Kizzaf has vanished from the Enclave without answering any questions, and the Fezarch wants her back in custody. She offers a reward of magic draughts, as well as a cryptic clue: “Doom of Redhand...1500 paces east...the Southeast Gatehouse.”

Eleasias 2—This morn finds the village of Eveningstar cloaked in cold thick fog. The Company sets out early, crossing the River Starwater and following a path toward the Gorge. At the old Thaddath Farm, there is evidence that someone (or something...) has been picking through the rubbish and filth.

Soon the Company spies a recently-exposed and excavated cave in the Stonecliff. Within they discover a pair of sentinels—tusked mouths, feral ears and matted black hair—orcs! A ferocious and bloody battle ensues, with the Company only barely victorious. At Velm’s suggestion, Bronn sneaks further into the cave (which is marked with the Rune of Clan Darkfell) and fells a sorceror with a single bolt. The spellcaster wears an ominous insignia upon his black tunic: a clawed hand, from which greenish beams emanate, on a fiery orange background.

Using ambush tactics, the Company moves swiftly through the dwarven halls of ancient construction, slaying all the orcs they find (yet passing up a few unsavory portals and corridors...). Van displays his deadly accuracy with the bow, while Saeita fells opponents with a single strike of hand or foot. Many of the old halls have collapsed, but a path leads deeper into the ruin.

Below, the Company discovers their quarry—Kizzaf and a malevolent cleric searching a pillared hall. The battle is long and fierce—the priest swinging a vicious mace and Kizzaf levitating above the fray and throwing down fire and frost—but finally the cleric is killed and Kizzaf beaten unconscious and captured.

As the members of the Company thank the Gods for their victory, the Darkfell Rune in the center of the floor fills with the priest’s blood. As the dark fluid flows down each of the eight radiating grooves and under the walls, there is an audible and curious click in the chamber...Epis

 

[Mahiro Satsu]

Episode II The Haunted Halls

Characters: Bronn Spellforger (shield dwarf Wizard, lvl 2), Corwyn Black (human Fighter, lvl 1), Daziel (human Cleric, Selûne, lvl 1), Saeita Neví (wild elf Monk, lvl 2), Van Dyksun (human Ranger, lvl 2), Velm Trueforger (shield dwarf Fighter--NPC, lvl 2)

Eleasias 2—In the halls of the southeast gatehouse, the members of the Company of the Wolf ready themselves as a secret door slides open...and a dessicated dwarf corpse slides to the floor in a puff of dust, trailing cobwebs. It wears the Star of Darkfell--one of Clan Darkfell’s warriors, or perhaps a leader. The druid Enina Meliamne and her wolf Oginali, disturbed by the stone walls and stench of death, depart immediately for wooded lands and open sky.

In the dust-choked passage beyond the secret door, the Company spies a flickering white glow, and rounding a corner they view its source: the luminous specter of a dwarven warrior, standing before a great fall of rock, an enormous spill of braided beard from beneath his helm. “The city is under siege,” he whispers, “goblins have sundered the gates...the King is in peril...aid us, dwarves,” and turning, vanishes through the rocks. The passage goes dark.

Bronn and Velm realize that the cave-in will take many workers and months to clear. Perhaps the cryptic map labeled with Dethek runes showing a place called "Aerunedar," found tucked into the Red Wizard's arcanabula, bears some relation?

Dragging their prisoner, the Company ascends to the second level.

There they find slain orcs and a locked room, and a hideous tentacled creature (a choker) that nearly gets the best of Saeita Neví before it is perforated by bolts and blades. In the room the company discovers prisoners of the tuskers--a militant priestess of Selûne, Daziel, and a former blacksmith, Corwyn Black--both of whom agree to join the Company of the Wolf.

At Starwater Bridge, the Company confronts a wall of horses and breastplates bearing Purple Dragon: soldiers of the Crown—Purple Dragons under the command of the sneering Hurvald of Espar. It seems the companions have broken a few of Cormyr’s laws, and although their deeds seem noble, they will have to come along for the time being.

They are taken to Eveningstar Hall under guard, and placed in a “waiting room” until Lady Tessaril Winter will see them. Eventually, they are granted audience with the Lady, who explains the position of the Crown and offers a deal: a Charter and all charges dropped, if the Company will put an end to the poaching of sharrada from the High Pasture by “demon imps.”

It is agreed, a certain Thayan arcanabula is returned to the Fezarch Hinnar, the Red Wizard in turn makes good on her payment of potions, and the diviner Kizzaf--now pariah--is returned to the Thayan Enclave in chains.

Eleasias 3, 4, 5—The Company recovers their health and trains in their newfound skills, as Bronn divines the functions of dweomered treasures. A visit is made to Myrkyr at the House of Morning. A runestone letter is sent to Thunderstone, and the members of the Company ready themselves to foray into the Haunted Halls.

 

[Mahiro Satsu]

Episode II The Haunted Halls part 2

Eleasias 6—A sunny morning finds the Company of the Wolf setting off to the north, into Starwater Gorge. The path rises gradually from the trees into the rocky, scorpion-infested gorge, and soon the companions come upon a ruined, double-walled keep—the former fortress of the Bandit King Rivior, now known simply as the “Killing Keep.” A cursory survey turns up nothing but dust, rubble and a murder of startled crows. But Corwyn Black could have told them that...

Further up the gorge (approximately eight miles from Eveningstar), the Company discovers a pair of cracks in the rockface. And high above, Corwyn spies a barrel perched upon a cliff. A perilous climb discovers a rainbarrel and a small cave, and a terrifying fall elicits Bronn Spellforger’s wizardly acumen. Luckily, Corwyn’s death is averted as he settles gently to earth.

After plumbing the depths of an owlbear’s lair, and slaying the furious inhabitant, the Company enters the lightless and bleak Haunted Halls. An exploration of the lichen-encrusted entry halls discovers vermin and filth (monstrous spiders, scorpions and a nasty infestation of green slime) and several trinkets, but none of the malevolent ghosts that give the Halls their name. The Company returns to the owlbear cave for the night to regain their strength.

Eleasias 7—Back in the Halls, the Company adavnces quickly, setting off a triple crossbow trap. A faint gong is heard somewhere ahead. Finally the Company stumbles upon their quarry—a guardroom full of “demon imps”: yapping, chattering kobolds!

A deadly melee leaves the diminutive red dogs hacked to pieces, and the Company intact. Beyond a secret portal, the Company finds a shaft stretching upward into darkness, rusting grabirons affixed to one side. Although Corwyn is eager to scale it, the Company decides to turn back and replenish their strength.

That night they again make camp in the owlbear’s cave, the silent and enigmatic wild elf guarding them in her meditative state.

Eleasias 8—In the wee hours of the morning, Saeita alerts her friends to danger: a war-party of kobolds trekking past the cave mouth. Luckily, they are not discovered, but Daziel has an idea: remain awake until the kobolds return, hidden behind that rusted portcullis just within the Halls...

Once the Selûnite has prayed for the Power, and Bronn has studied his Art, the Company of the Wolf sets their trap in the entry chamber of the Halls. A far-off tapping of stone on stone catches the priest’s ear, but remains a mystery.

Sure enough, half of the kobolds return before dawn, and they are peppered with bolts from Daziel’s crossbows and arrows hurtling from Van's bow, blasted and frozen by Bronn’s icy daggers, crushed by Corwyn’s hammer and Saeita’s fists, and split from nave to chops by the keen axe of Velm. In but a few moments the kobolds are sprawled all about, bleeding.

The discovery of another secret portal leads the Company to a dusty, long-unused hall. They spend a good deal of time breaking through a stubborn, locked panel, to find a black bear rearing up on its hind legs!

Luckily, the bear is stuffed and on a wooden pedestal—but the companions’ luck does not stop there. They discover chests of gold coin, tapestries woven with precious metals, and a steel coffer holding gems. The only question is how they will carry their treasures to the sunlight...

 

[Mahiro Satsu]

Episode III The Corpsecoil

Characters: Bronn Spellforger (shield dwarf Wizard, lvl 3), Corwyn Black (human Fighter, lvl 2), Daziel (human Cleric, Selûne, lvl 2), Saeita Neví (wild elf Monk, lvl 3), Van Dyksun (human Ranger, lvl 3), Velm Trueforger (shield dwarf Fighter, lvl 2).

8 Eleasias—Deep within the Haunted Halls, Corwyn Black is breaking open a steel coffer, while the Company of the Wolf distributes small chests of gold coin among the strong arms gathered in the dusty vault.

Spangg!

The coffer bursts open, spilling smoky crystal lenses and a pair of golden yellow gemstones. As Bronn is appraising their worth, he catches sight of something inside one of them: a man dressed in archaic fluted half-plate, with a shield and a longsword. He shows the rest of the Company his find.

“I’m going to let him out,” says Bronn. But he is talked out of it by the others. None of them have any way of knowing why the tiny man is trapped inside the gem; Bronn Spellforger has never heard of such a spell. Booty in hand, they make ready to depart.

Listening at the door, Saeita Neví hears a dragging footstep just beyond the portal, followed by a dry human chuckle. “They’re right outside the door,” she whispers.

Corwyn wrenches open the door and chases the fleeting shadows. No one is there.

But moments later, a hail of bolts pelts them in the adjoining hall. Yapping kobolds flee into the dark. Corwyn and Daziel give chase, only to run headlong into another hail of bolts, fired by another knot of kobolds ready in the passage. They also flee. Into the ambush point they follow, and when they are fired at a third time from a point just below the tall shaft, they slam the secret portal shut and wait for the Company to catch up.

click click click-click click

Daziel of Selûne hears the far-off tapping of stone on stone. The Company gathers in the kobold ambush point, some of them strenuously advocating an immediate retreat.

Daziel looks out through an arrow slit into the passage beyond, pressing the smoky lenses that seem to banish shadows up against her eyes.

Nothing.

She looks through the other one, and finds herself staring into a jaundiced, bloodshot eye nearly three inches across.

She lets out a scream, startling all, and pokes one finger into the goggling orb. An inhuman moan of pain and rage erupts from beyond the arrow slit. When they shine a light into the halls on the other side, there is nothing to be seen but a hall of stone statues.

“Why don’t we get out of here while we still can?” suggests the young ranger, pushing white hair out of his eyes.

They retreat quickly, noting that the slime they burned away still glistens a sickening green in the upper corners of the old barracks. And before their eyes, a flickering apparition walks, turning slowly to fix them with a glowering gaze, before vanishing beyond a corner. The there is only the far-off click click-click of the stones…

In the entry chamber they are again pelted with bolts, and one kobold speaks arcane words and hurls spells, all from behind the safety of the rusted portcullis. A sleep spell takes down half the group, and the rest are mercilessly pounded by bolts, until Velm finally hurls a flask of alchemist’s fire. The explosion startles the yapping dogs, who run off into the Halls.

Outside, a chill fog fills the Starwater Gorge.

 

[Mahiro Satsu]

Episode III The Corpsecoil part 2

“I’m letting him out,” says Bronn.

“You can’t!” says Daziel.

“What if he’s trapped in there for a good reason?” asks Van Dyksun.

Saeita Nevi, still shaken by their encounter with the spirits of the dead, says nothing.

Ignoring all protests, Bronn and Velm (in a rare show of solidarity) smash the yellow gem.

The man in armor is suddenly sprawled upon the ground.

He stands slowly, and introduces himself as Temuel Khiv, a holy warrior of Tempus. As the tread the (now) well-known path back to Eveningstar, Temuel tells them his story (see above), and is horrified to learn that he has been trapped in the yellow gem for almost 200 years.

By midday the fog has burned off.

Headed down the trail, the Company approaches the Killing Keep…

In a grove of spruces just north of the Killing Keep, a gray squirrel chatters and screeches on a branch above Van Dyksun.

“Hey,” Van calls back to the others, “does anyone know if the squirrels are aggressive around here?”

The squirrel seems highly agitated.

Bronn laughs. “Come on, ranger, it’s a squirrel, for Mystra’s sake. Can’t you talk to it?”

Van shrugs. He scans the trail ahead, barely missing a hint of movement along a high ridge...

The Company reaches the wide point of Starwater Gorge, where the ruins of the Killing Keep are huddled against one wall, behind two crumbling walls and gatehouses.

Screechh! Tikka-tee-tikka! Scronch! The squirrel appears again, nearly leaping end over end in an attempt to do...something.

A woman’s voice, hoarse and ragged, echoes from the Killing Keep: “Help!”

The companions are instantly alert. “Someone’s in trouble,” says Temuel Khiv.

“You go investigate,” says Daziel. “I want to see what this squirrel’s problem is.” She and Saeita crouch over the agitated rodent.

The Company—Van Dyksun, Bronn Spellforger, Velm, Corwyn Black and Temuel Khiv—move off toward the forbidding walls of Rivior’s Keep.

The squirrel begins scratching at the dirt. Letters appear.

“What are you trying to tell us?” asks Daziel.

The squirrel manages, with great difficulty, to spell out FIND THE STONE TOOTH.

“Where?”

NORTH.

Just then the clash of metal on metal is heard from the Keep—Velm’s battle cry to Clanggeddin, Temuel Khiv’s bellicose roar, Corwyn Black’s wail: “The dead! They walk!”—with a glance at each other, Saeita Neví and Daziel run toward the Keep.

The Company of the Wolf passes through the first gatehouse to find a pair of tuskers waiting for them, and they charge...only to find that Risen corpses emerge from the inner bailey to hem them in. Add to that the fact that the area into which they have been drawn is tainted somehow: the air tastes flat and stale, somehow oily, and send shivers of despair down their spines. The inspiring presence of Temuel Khiv only partially wards off the fell influence. And worst of all: one of the corpses has a crossbow bolt through its throat—it is the Banite sorceror killed by Bronn at the southeast gatehouse.

Suddenly Kizzaf, the Red Wizard they thought was in custody at the Enclave, springs up from behind the battlements, atop the inner wall. “Time to die,” she gloats, in a ragged and hoarse voice, firing a crossbow down into the melee.

Bronn speaks words of magic, and swallows a live spider.

A swirling cloud of multihued energy emerges from the inner bailey. “Give up the map, and perhaps the Lord Bane will hear your pleas for mercy,” sneers a voice from within the vortex.

The battle continues, as Van Dyksun and Corwyn Black receive terrible wounds. A blue-skinned corpse with one hideously misshapen claw speeds into battle; the risen body of the Cleric slain at the southeast gatehouse, now somehow imbued with the evil of the Black Tyrant. Strikes from his claws elicit despairing curses from Velm—the creature’s blows seem to sap his skills and make him clumsy on his feet, filling him with unnatural cold...

The swirling vortex approaches Temuel Khiv, and a priest of Bane appears within the cloud, in the moment that he brings a heavy black flail over his helm in a deadly arc.

Crack-splush!

The flail sunders Temuel Khiv’s helm and drops him to the ground. From within the lacquered black helmet of the “Claw of Bane” comes a peal of mocking laughter.

Corwyn grabs the near-fallen Van Dyksun and attempts to flee.

Bronn climbs to the top of the wall, and readies his club. He and Kizzaf circle, she firing bolts stubbornly as the club swings close and closer, until finally Bronn is able to stave in her skull.

“We are leaving!” screams Corwyn.

“Cowards!” shouts Velm Trueforger. “My cousin is in there!”

Just then Daziel and Saeita Neví arrive at the gates. “Selûne commands you...begone!!!” The walking dead flee into the Keep with groans of fear and loathing. Only the Clawed Corpse and the Banite cleric remain.

With a few profane words, a red lash of energy extends from one of the Banite’s black gauntlets.

The battle is fierce and bloody. It seems to last until all are struggling for breath, exhausted with parrying and swinging their weapons at the Clawed Corpse, which shrugs off strikes as an oilcloth sheds water. At last, The Claw of Bane and his monstrous ally lie dead between the crumbling towers of the gatehouse.

And alas...so does Temuel Khiv, his noble brow split and spilling his lifeblood upon the soil.

A pyre is built, and Daziel hacks in rage at the corpses of the evil ones. The Claw of Bane, Kizzaf and the Clawed Corpse are piled upon the gathered kindling and set alight. “They’ll not plague us again,” says Daziel through gritted teeth.

Bronn glares at those who attempted to flee, and says almost nothing.

And what of the squirrel? Someone got to it while the battle raged...it has been crushed by a heavy boot. It gives a last twitch, and dies...and instantly ‘morphs into the dead body of an old wrinkled longbeard in dusty and tattered traveling clothes. In his rucksack is a small leather tome, which Bronn snatches away.

“Can’t you even respect the dead?” cries Daziel. “I’m beginning to think Velm was right about you, Spellforger.”

Bronn glares at her, and at all of them. “You’d foolishly give away everything we find, if I wasn’t here to stop you.”

“Let’s not fight,” pleads Van Dyksun. “We need to reach Eveningstar alive, after all.”

Victorious, alive, yet burdened by ill-will and heavy hearts, the Company of the Wolf sets off on the trail to Eveningstar.

 

[Mahiro Satsu]

Episode III The Corpsecoil part 3

9, 10, 11 Eleasias—In Eveningstar, the Company regains their health and hones their skills in training. Bronn uses magicks of Identification to discern what the dweomered items do. At the House of Morning, the legendary Temuel Khiv (known to “Trueservant” and Myrkyr of Lathander only through stories of long ago) is raised before he can enter the Gates to the Final Battlefield where General Tempus awaits: his quest is not yet finished. Bronn goes to the shore of the Starwater and summons a familiar: the toad called Wolf.

12 Eleasias—In the high chamber of Tessaril’s Tower, the Company meets with Lady Winter, and agrees to mount another journey to the Haunted Halls, this time to deal with the kobold threat once and for all. Temuel Khiv agrees to join them. “The Corpsecoil—Ruathgrym—still dwells in the Gorge...I can feel his presence.” They learn that Kizzaf escaped from the Thayan Enclave only a few days earlier...

13 Eleasias—The sun burns hot upon the green fields and bushy hedgerows.

The Gorge is pale gray in the distance, rambling steadily from beyond the treeline to the misty fastnesses of the Stormhorns, their white caps only barely visible in the north. But in town the sun is bright and the apple trees are in full green cloaks studded with red.

The Company—now including the diminutive Wolf in Bronn’s pocket, and a cart drawn by the pony Velm has affectionately named Bronn—sets out early for the Halls, and marches until noon along the scorpion-infested trail.

Inside the musty and lichen-encrusted Halls, the party makes their way to the old barracks. They’ve decided to proceed toward those welcoming statues Daziel saw, but first Van suggests, “Let’s spike shut the doors to the kobolds’ ambush point.”

Corwyn volunteers. Everyone takes up positions around the arched opening as Corwyn scans the barracks. “Nothing in there,” he says.

He takes the spikes, and his hammer, and enters the barracks.

“Aaaiiiiiiieeeeeeeee--!!!” Corwyn staggers back, covered in bright green filth that melts his bloody hands and half of his face, an acrid mist rising from the wounds.

They try to wipe it off—it dissolves the cloth. Daziel is without a Cure disease prayer. Bronn states boldly, “We must use fire.” Grabbing a torch, he ignites the slime and cauterizes the wound…emitting a whimper of agony, Corwyn Black slides the floor. Nothing in his days of smithing weapons at the forge has prepared him for this.

Daziel heals the wounds, but it will be many days until Corwyn truly regains his hale and hearty vigor. An agreement is reached that the green slime will act as a natural safeguard against the kobolds coming or going by that route.

At the welcoming statues, both of bronze and gesturing to the bronze vault, the Company halts, debating the merits of simply opening the doors. “I have been here,” says Temuel Khiv. “The statues hold out bolts of lightning to anyone who opens the portal.”

The party spends a while trying to figure out how to toss two grappling hooks so that they remain hooked onto the huge bronze pull rings, without touching the doors.

After long minutes of this, Daziel cries out, “Enough of this! Fortune favors the bold!” She reaches out to grasp the pull ring—

“Wait!” cries Spellforger. “I have an idea. One needs a mage’s hand for this.”

He speaks an Artful word and moves a hand, and one by one the grappling hooks drift to the pull rings and attach themselves. With a sharp tug they open, blocking the lightning’s path and assuring safe passage.

In the passage beyond they discover a deadly house of traps, the corpse of Estrel (of the Band of Twilight) recently murdered as part of a ritual, and Rivior’s grand throne room with it’s mildewed tapestries, chest upon the throne, and its moving painting upon the southern wall depicting elves and men at war.

The Company does battle with skeletons that appear out of nowhere, and when Daziel turns them away they seem to flee toward a hall of pillars and vanish into thin air. Doors, pillars, rubble strewn about, halls blocked by falls of stone—even the ceiling of the pillared hall seems about to fall in despite Velm and Bronn’s assurances that it will not.

And always that distant click click click-click click from far away, and a deranged chuckle or groan from somewhere in the near darkness.

A six-hundred-pound stone block slides from the ceiling, crushing Daziel nearly to death, and the Company decides that they’ve seen enough of pillars. Besides, the others have opened a chest in the stone cellar, and released a cloud of potent sleep gas, and the sickly Corwyn Black is fully unconscious. No amount of shaking rouses him.

Through a secret door they discover the opposite side of the kobold’s ambush point, and receive a volley of bolts from the yapping “demon imps,” answering with a flask of alchemist’s fire.

They spike the door shut.

Back in the throne room, Saeita investigates the chest—it abruptly sprouts a pseudopod and swings at her. With a yelp she ducks, and the lid of the chest splits open to reveal a wide square red mouth lined with razor-sharp teeth. It uses another tendril to push open a secret panel behind it, and with the sandpaper growl of “Ee-Chutaa,” it slips away.

Through one of the throne room’s doors a scorched black room is found, with a tangle of scorched rags and a stone warhammer at the center. Slimy footprints disappear beyond the southern wall.

When the secret door is open, revealing a slimy staircase descending steeply into the dark, that crawling shiver goes down the neck of Temuel Khiv. “He is here,” says Sir Khiv, “the Corpsecoil is here.”

A trip step halfway down is spotted, averting a nasty fall into rusty sword blades. Corwyn sleeps peacefully in the scorched room.

In the Undercrypt, three dusty stone coffins line the far wall. Skeletons instantly spring to the attack, their bones slithering together and reforming as they are struck. One cloth-wrapped apparition rises from the center coffin, and is taken to pieces by the precise arrows of Van Dyksun and the spells of Bronn.

But from the third coffin rises another cloth-wrapped form, taller, dust sifting through its yellowed wrappings. In its gaunt and dessicated face, a malevolent intelligence seems to rest in its pale jade eyes. “Temuel,” it breathes, “you should not have come.”

“Your time is done, Ruathgrym,” replies Temuel, drawing from its sheath the Blood Point.

The battle rages fiercely, with the Company hammering away at the foul Corpsecoil from all sides. Bronn grants to his toad familiar a spell of combustion, and Wolf hops slowly across the chamber toward the unsuspecting Corpsecoil…

The Corpsecoil moans in fear now, as the blades of the Company wear away his foully-extended life. Gurgling, it hits the floor with a thud.

The Company cheers. At that precise moment, the toad hops through Temuel’s legs and touches the dusty cloth-wrapped corpse.

Whhhhhooooooooosssshhhhhhhhh!!! Ruathgrym bursts into cleansing flame.

Another cheer goes up from the Company.

 

[Mahiro Satsu]

Episode III The Corpsecoil part 4

Nearby the party uncovers a secret treasure vault: a sword, a bow, several tomes, coins, and the sacred Golden Chalice of Lathander. “The task set before me by the Grand Generals of Tempus is complete,” breathes Sir Temuel Khiv. “The Corpsecoil is down, and the Chalice will soon be back in the hands of those at Lathander’s house.”

As they collect the riches of the Undercrypt, the Company of the Wolf debates what their next move will be, and some grudges begin to coil and rear their heads...

"Doomed," whispers a voice in the chamber.

Bronn pulls open the door on the clicking noise.

The tolling bell fades into the distance.

As the door opens, the muffled muttering resolves into "Any moment...any moment...any moment..."

Surrounded by half-eaten rat carcasses and thousands of tiny yellow bones, a dirty male elf with wiry black hair and many tarnished earrings is tapping a stone against the wall and listening carefully...as he mutters "Any moment" over and over again.

He stops when he notices you all in the doorway.

“Do you hear it? Do you?” he demands in a whispery voice. "What took you so long?"

"Crap," mutters Bronn.

Velm Trueforger: By all the orc whelps in Thunder Vale...is that an elf?

Temuel Khiv: Does the elf have a weapon? He may need it on the way out of here. Though we don't yet know if he can be trusted with a blade...I'll help get him to his feet. By the Mailed Fist of Tempus, I am ready for battle!

Bronn: Wait a minute .. are you Quisvan?... no can't be ... better yet, Ivellior?? Let's get him the seven hells out of here!

"It is I," he says, "Ivellior."
The elf has a longsword and dagger in scabbards, a bedroll, a backpack, and a whetstone.

"Ulodrin," he says to Bronn, "Finally you have returned. I knew you would hear the signal, and that it would safekeep your steps."

A look of blissful relief passes over the elf's features as he turns to Daziel. "And the lovely Estrel."

He pricks up his ears. "Wait. Do you hear it?"

...silence...

"It is free. We set it free." He breaks down into hysterical tears.

Bronn Spellforger: You can rest now, Ivellior, you're safe. Tymora smiles upon you. But we must go. Grumbad here will help you.. we must return to Eveningstar. Velm, can you help him out of here? We need to move. NOW.

Daziel: checks over the elf for wounds. Speaks to him quietly for a few moments, makes him sip some water, then gets up and rejoins the group.

"Let's get him out of here. Someone want to search the room and help gather up his stuff. Who is he, Bronn? What is the Band of Twilight? Better yet, who does he think we are? Who or what does he think is in here, and might it have something to do with the sound of the cave in? Temuel, can you tell if he is possessed, or has evil intent?"

Although he is nervous and twitchy, Ivellior allows Velm and Temuel to lead him by the arms.

"Grumbad, I never thought you would have such compassion...I apologize for the things I said." He turns to Temuel. "Ah, yes...Temuel Khiv...the voices speak often of you, the Servant of Tempus, the Paladin of the Gem."

He whimpers and sobs. "The Lockpick...crushed in Rivior's library...it seemed so innocent but we had to go and set it free..we were fools, Grumbad, fools...it's hungry..." Ivellior moans in terror.

Boots crunching on rat bones, it takes all of you only a few moments to reach the Chamber of Welcoming Statues. From there, you travel swiftly down the hall to where you can see the entry door beyond the rusted portcullis.

A quick detour to the north takes you past the slime-infested barracks and down the diagonal hall to the secret door.

You open it and enter the entry chamber. The pile of old shields and weapons still rests at the center of the room, and a stale scent wafts from the lichen-encrusted walls. The room is filled with a pale glow...

...emanating from the transparent form of a tall, broad man in fine clothing that is stained with blood, and a thick winter mantle over his shoulders. His long hair is swept back, his beard well-trimmed, and his eyes...his eyes burn with unholy loathing.

His voice grates like ice over rough stone. "You thought to plunder my Hold and depart unscathed? You are doomed."

Ivellior falls to his knees and shrieks, a jarring sound that sets all your teeth on edge.

The phantom's smile is a grim rictus; there is no humor in it.

Rivior fixes his baleful gaze upon Bronn: "You speak as though I cannot hear you, little one. Like Redhand, you underestimate me. Even the Warrior Queen underestimated me...she too met her doom in the blowing snow."

Rivior looks at Temuel, as he steps forward with the Blood Point, as though seeing him for the first time. "Ruathgrym...the Corpsecoil...one and same? Then perhaps he did come to Starwater Gorge to join the Sons of the Coil...and you have done me a service, Soldier of Tempus." Rivior grows stern once more. "Go now. We are equal."

And in a hiss that chills your very blood he adds, "Return...and you shall join us. Forever." For just a moment, surrounding you, you see the hazy forms of Rivior's bandit army...a bloody and hateful menagerie of spirits closing in on you...

Abruptly, they are gone. The Haunted Halls are silent and still, except for the soft weeping of Ivellior.