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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Rybaer" data-source="post: 276626" data-attributes="member: 118">Session #12.12 - The Mage of Many Colors Rurik and Bommer have just been slain by a half-mechanical fire giant.  Nigel, Amblin, and Zalman, having just finished off said fire giant, are now fleeing through the ruins of Kladish from a raging red dragon. A little less than a day ealier... Linnea, the head of household for Countess Lohna Goldenoak Graeble of Vineyard Pass, made her daily trip into town to pick up fresh produce from the farmers and merchants.  Given the Countess's nighttime lifestyle, Linnea had accustomed herself to rising in the middle of the afternoon to see that the household was in order. When she arrived in the town's market, she found all the citizens abuzz with talk about a group of strangers who had passed through earlier in the morning.  While selecting her items, Linnea tried to gather and filter the gossip to get the best possible report for Lohna.  The group, four men on horseback with one spare mount, had ridden through at a quick pace not an hour after dawn.  The most striking of the group was a large man dressed in exotic red full plate armor stylized to look like a demon - particularly the mask.  Another rider was a man or half-elf (as some claimed), dressed in robes of deep blue and commanding a powerful aura about him.  The other two riders paled in comparison - both humans and dressed in simple brown and gray travel garb.  One was older, perhaps in his late 50's, and the other was in his late teens. Linnea learned little else about the group other than that they were traveling north and had not even slowed down as they passed through town.  Linnea was fairly certain that they had not attempted to stop at the Graeble estate, or she'd have heard about it from some of the daytime staff. Linnea knew that the Countess's newest group of friends had just passed through town not a week ago, headed on a mission of some sort north of the city.  As far as she knew, there was nothing else to the north - certainly no cities or civilization.  A few hunters occasionally went up that way, but these strangers didn't sound like the hunting types. When the sun finally began to set, the Countess Lohna rose for her evening meal.  She was entertaining one guest this night, an acquaintance of a couple years and psychic warrior named Amill Jaggitt.  Linnea didn't know too much about Amill.  He was something of a wanderer, but seemed pleasant enough during each of his previous visits. Linnea greeted the two in the dining hall and helped serve dinner (or breakfast, depending on one's perspective).  Once the meal was underway, Linnea decided to pass along the story of the day.  Lohna listened carefully and asked a couple pointed questions for clarity.  Lohna had no more idea as to the identity of these riders than the townsfolk had.  Like Linnea, though, she was concerned that they might be pursuing Nigel and the others from New Selmar.  There was little explanation. During one of that group's previous visits, a halfling wizard and his summoned creatures had attacked in the middle of the night.  It had never been determined if the attack was aimed at her or the group, but suspicion favored the latter.  Lohna knew they had acquired some enemies, and she grew more concerned about their safety.  Lohna had been a bit of an adventurer in her youth and had a few tricks up her sleeves - not enough to take on a potentially dangerous group of men, but perhaps enough to scout them out and warn the Selmarian Seekers. "Amill," the Countess said.  "Care to take a ride north?" "I've got nothing else planned," Amill said.  "Why not?" "I'll have Master Jaggitt's horse readied immediately," Linnea said.  Fifteen minutes later, Amill and Lohna left town as the stars began to poke through the last minutes of dusk - the psychic warrior on horseback and the Countess in the form of a sleek wolf.Back in the ruins of Kladish…Zalman slammed the concealed door shut behind him, effectively blocking out the intense heat from the dragon’s breath.  The few remaining members of the group were back in one of the offices of the ore refinery, a dark and stuffy place only a dwarf could tolerate.“Well,” said Nigel, “do we hide in here and hope the dragon can’t follow because of its size or do we make a run for the stairs and try to escape?”“Better plan,” Zalman chimed in.  “I’ve still got a scroll of Teleportation with me.  I didn’t think I could teleport the entire group before, but I’m quite certain it should be able to get the three of us out.”“Sounds like a plan,” Amblin said.  “And the quicker the better.”“Where to?” Zalman asked as he pulled the scroll case out of his pack.“Lohna’s?” Nigel suggested.  The others nodded in agreement.  It was close and familiar and had no dragons that they were aware of.Zalman asked his companions to each grab one of his shoulders and then he recited the spell from the scroll.  They felt the surge of magical energy envelop them and then wrench them out of the Prime.  All felt an abrupt and unpleasant shock as they were kicked back into the Prime.“Uh, Zalman,” Nigel said.  “I’m pretty sure this isn’t Lohna’s.”  He gazed around at the cavernous stone hallway they were in.  Aside from Amblin’s small continual-flame rock, it was quite dark.  Chunks of stone littered the floor.“Yeah,” Amblin said.  “And judging by the little sparkly deals down that way, I’d go so far as to say we’re in the main hallway just outside the refinery room.  Some teleportation!  It got us what?  A whopping two hundred feet?”Zalman, judging by the rough exit from the teleportation, quickly surmised that something must have blocked the spell from properly functioning.  It was possible that the walls of Kladish had wards built into them.A roar echoed through the vast hall again, abruptly reminding them of the presence of the dragon.  “Right,” Nigel said.  “Time to go!”They raced down the hall and then through the tunnel they’d melted in the rock earlier.  Throwing caution aside in favor of speed, they hurried across the chasms in the dwarven apartment chamber and back to the long, twisting stairway up to the ogre’s lair.  They paused for just a moment to catch their breaths and to listen for pursuit.From here, they could hear nothing but the faint crashing of the waterfalls several hundred feet behind them.  Relieved that the dragon wasn’t immediately upon them, they continued up the stairs.  Remembering the unpleasant encounter with the black pudding on these very stairs, however, they proceeded at a more cautious pace.About halfway up the stairs, Amblin, who was scouting the way, heard the sound of footsteps coming down the stairwell.  Torchlight flickered off the walls.  The monk quickly and quietly slipped back down the stairs to warn the others.In a hasty whispered conversation, the group decided to wait on the stairs for the approaching group.  They certainly had no interest in going back toward the dragon.  If they were lucky, perhaps the newcomers would be either friendly or at least easier to handle than a dragon.The torchlight finally arrived at the platform above them and the newcomers were revealed:  a half-elf in dark robes, a tall humanoid concealed in demonic-styled armor and carrying a massive black-bladed greatsword, and a pair of humans dressed in simple travelers’ garb.  The newcomers paused at finding the three battered men on the landing below.The half-elf in robes broke the silence.  “Hello,” he said.  “May I ask who you are?”Nigel spoke up.  “Just a few guys trying to get the hell out of here.  I’d suggest you turn around yourselves as there’s a rampaging dragon down there.”  Amblin started back up the stairs toward the newcomers.  It was his intention to walk on past them.“Please, wait,” the half-elf said.  “I would like to know more.  Are you the ones responsible for the slain ogres up there?”“Yes,” Nigel said.  “But, like I said, we really don’t want to be standing around chit-chatting right now.”  As Amblin approached, the man in red armor stepped forward and leveled his sword in the monk’s direction.  It was clear that he did not want Amblin any closer.  Amblin, not interested in what the man in red wanted, continued forward.  Nigel clenched his bow and Zalman his staff.With his attention focused firmly on the confrontation above, Zalman was caught completely off guard when he was whacked in the back of the head.  The wizard’s staff clattered into the corner of the landing as he crumpled to the floor unconscious.  Amblin whipped around at the sound, only to turn back at the sound of spell casting from above.  The older man dressed in drab travel garb was holding some manner of holy symbol and casting a spell.  The monk was ready to pounce, but found that he was completely immobilized.Nigel, unsure what had happened to Zalman and soon aware that something was wrong with Amblin, raised his bow.“Stop!” the half-elf said, raising his hands pleadingly.  “Do not harm them!  I only wish to speak!”Nigel held his fire.  Running the numbers in his head, he realized that their only chance was to take the half-elf at his word and talk.  “Upstairs then,” Nigel said.  “Very well,” the half-elf said.  “Please release him.”  With a wave, the older man released his spell on the now-upset monk.  Rather than force a confrontation, though, Amblin helped gather up Zalman and the wizard’s staff.  While doing so, he peered down the stairs and saw nothing but darkness.  The entire group went back up to the ogre’s lair and settled down in the room with the crack overlooking the ocean.  Daytime, they noted. The old man approached and offered to heal Zalman.  Nigel and Amblin were both very reluctant.“Look,” the old man said, “I’m a follower of St. Cuthbert.  I will not harm your friend.”  Nigel and Amblin finally acquiesced and the cleric brought Zalman back to consciousness.Zalman was confused and could not recall what had happened.  He was not happy with the situation and decided to sit in one of the chairs, refuse to speak, and glare at the newcomers.Nigel turned back to the half-elf.  “Alright, you’ve got us sitting now.  Would you mind telling us who you are and what you want from us?”“I am the Mage of Many Colors,” the half-elf said with a slight bow.  “You may also call me Mister North.  I am a scholar of sorts, and the search for this city has been a passion of mine for years.”Next session:  the Mage reveals his true colors</blockquote>

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