Against the Shadows VII - A Faded Glory Story Hour (Re-Updated - 5/17)
- Thread starter Old One
- Start date
I don't know about all that...
Willpax,
Thanks for the good thoughts
! I am not sure that the work is all that, but it seems to be paying the bills right now
...
~ Old One
willpax said:I hope this extended lull in posting means that Old One is up to his eyeballs in lucrative, well-paying, emotionally satisfying work.
Willpax,
Thanks for the good thoughts
! I am not sure that the work is all that, but it seems to be paying the bills right now...~ Old One
Session 18 (Part Five)
Greetings All!
Thanks to all the long-suffering fans (all 3 of you that are left). I have been tremendously busy with business start-up over the last 6 weeks, but managed to catch a few minutes to pound out an update! The updates will be a bit spotty over the next month or so, but I should get a breather around Thanksgiving. I am now officially THREE sessions behind (19, 20 and 21).
We had Session 21 over the weekend and it was an absolute hoot (apologies to the silver furs). We are playing a "double-session" on November 16th, as my wife will be out-of-town at a baby shower!
Since it has been s-o-o-o-o-o-o long...
Our intrepid band, after being "flushed" by Maythrax and the Shadowblades, discovered an ancient dwarven shrine deep underground. They encountered hostile silver furred creatures, a mad dwarven priest and a ballroom full of dancing dead men. After several strange altercations with the priest, they entered a shadowy pocket dimension within a tapestry to seek a way to end the sound that seemed to be the source of the priest's madness.
Whilst there, they found a glass-walled tower, battled bizarre furniture and tentacle creatures and found the source of the sound. Reaching a truce with the tentacle creatures, they brought one back through the tapestry to confront the priest, but the tentacle creature played them false and betrayed them. The creature invoked magic from a crumbling scroll and bound the priest's form in crackling black energy.
A mighty battle ensued, with the silver furs breaking into the shrine and the spirit of the dwarven priest entering Brother Lew. The battle ended with the death of Sextus, his miraculous return at the hand of the possessed and the utter confusion of Quintus...
Questions, Answers and Yet More Questions
Tension hung heavy in the air for several grains before Rowan stepped between their new companion and the furious Quintus.
“My friend, we have just witnessed the most amazing of miracles…Lew brought Sextus back from the dead! The power of the statue and Brother Lew has returned your brother to life.”
The nose of the crossbow dipped slightly as Quintus looked at his brother’s bloodied and supine form. Sextus grinned and waved weakly. The sorcerer’s eyes darted from bard to dwarf and then to the disappearing form of Lew far above. “Somebody tell me what happened.”
A quarter turn of the hourglass later, Quintus shook his head for the twentieth time. “It still doesn’t make sense! Even if this…dwarf…fought with you, his companion attacked us several time and possessed Lew. If that doesn’t reflect evil, I don’t know what does! Ever since we entered this accursed place, we have been assaulted, tricked and misled. How do we know this isn’t another trick?”
Sextus, reclining atop a makeshift bed of gear, countered, “Brother, I understand your wariness, but I was dead! I saw the same black gate as Rosë, my feet were upon the onyx path, yet I was called back. I feel, in my heart, that the power that enabled my return walks in the Light. The warmth and peace I felt as I was brought back is like nothing I have ever known!”
Rosë and Rowan added their voices in support of Sextus’s position. The heavily armed and armored dwarf stood stoically to one side, listening intently and eying Quintus warily. The elder Scipio continued stubbornly, “So we are just supposed to abandon Lew? We should go after him and we should force this dwarf to show us the way!”
The dwarf shifted slightly, “Ach…I have a name. It’s Cragen and I would appreciate it if you didn’t refer to me as ‘dwarf’!”
Cragen spoke in Old Emorian and the companions understood about half of what he uttered. Frustrated by the quizzical looks, he thumped his fist to his chest. “CRAGEN!”
The conversation continued for some time, with communication gradually improving and Quintus’s hostility lessening slightly. Finally, an agreement was reached to take stock of their situation and look for a way out. Cragen, doing his best to follow the conversation, grinned through his bushy beard and hitched up his weapon belt. “I know the way out,” he beamed.
They scoured the Shrine for useful items, paying special attention to the upstairs rooms where they encountered Volakir and where the black chrysalis still pulsated. Everyone steered clear of the humming cocoon. Everyone, that is, but Quintus. Unable to suppress his curiosity, the sorcerer stretched out his spear.
Crackling black energy surged up the shaft and engulfed Quintus. His body arced in pain and he screamed. The spear, unable to handle the energy, shattered into a thousand shards and sent the sorcerer spinning into a wall. He remained motionless for a few grains, groaned and rolled to his hands and knees. He realized, in a panic, that several spells were gone from his mind and he felt very weak.
(DM’s Note: Quintus has a bad habit of touching or picking up negatively charged items. When he grasped the amulet of the zombie formerly knows as Luc, many sessions ago, it almost killed him!)
Sextus and Rowan comforted Quintus while Rosë and Cragen continued their search. Cragen uncovered a small cache of low-powered clerical scrolls, but little else. Nothing remained in the hiding places he remembered from his youth in the shrine. Communication required patience and hand gestures, as the dwarf’s heavily accented and archaically stilted Old Emorian only partially overlapped with the Tradespeak used by the rest of the party.
The group decided to rest inside the shrine to allow the Scipio brothers to recover from their respective mishaps and for Cragen to call upon Moradin for additional healing miracles. Their rest was disturbed from time to time by “hoots” echoing from outside, but no further assaults were mounted.
Rowan and Cragen’s healing skills returned the party to semblance of health and, thankfully, the draining effect on Quintus proved to be temporary. They prepared their gear and rapidly moved out of the shrine. Cragen stopped before the doors and intoned the name of Moradin, along with other syllables in dwarvish. Faint violet light flared around the doors and loud metallic click echoed through the cavern.
The party hefted their weapons and followed Cragen’s lead to the left around the underground lake. Their presence was soon detected the silver furs and ‘hoot-hoot’ began to waft down from above. Within a turn of the minute glass, clumps of silver furs began demonstrating on the party’s right flank, with groups of half a dozen charging to within a stone’s throw of the party, thumping their chests and retreating.
Whenever a band got too close, Quintus intoned his Ghost Sound, emulating the wailing of young Gordius Vercinox (Rosë’s son) at a monstrous pitch. The cacophony quickly drove back any advance and the party continued unmolested.
Cragen led them into a small fissure on the north end of the underground lake. Rowan lit a lantern as the luminescence from the water faded into darkness. Several faded runes were carved into the rock and Cragen traced his fingers over the etchings, hefted his hammer shaped holy symbol and spoke words of power. Violet light sputtered and receded. The dwarf grunted, drew himself up and repeated his action. The light flared brighter and a portal creaked open in the wall, revealing shallow stairs leading up.
The party moved through and Cragen called upon Moradin to seal the portal behind them. Satisfied, the dwarf pushed through to the head of the column and led the way up. A turn of the hourglass later, they stood on a small landing before another rune-accented wall. Cragen’s faith carried them through and they found themselves in a musty, worked stone tunnel. Rowan flashed his lantern left and right, looking at the floor and walls.
A grin spread across the ranger’s face. “I know where we are!”
To Be Continued…
Next: Déjà vu All Over Again
Greetings All!
Thanks to all the long-suffering fans (all 3 of you that are left). I have been tremendously busy with business start-up over the last 6 weeks, but managed to catch a few minutes to pound out an update! The updates will be a bit spotty over the next month or so, but I should get a breather around Thanksgiving. I am now officially THREE sessions behind (19, 20 and 21).
We had Session 21 over the weekend and it was an absolute hoot (apologies to the silver furs). We are playing a "double-session" on November 16th, as my wife will be out-of-town at a baby shower!
Since it has been s-o-o-o-o-o-o long...
Our intrepid band, after being "flushed" by Maythrax and the Shadowblades, discovered an ancient dwarven shrine deep underground. They encountered hostile silver furred creatures, a mad dwarven priest and a ballroom full of dancing dead men. After several strange altercations with the priest, they entered a shadowy pocket dimension within a tapestry to seek a way to end the sound that seemed to be the source of the priest's madness.
Whilst there, they found a glass-walled tower, battled bizarre furniture and tentacle creatures and found the source of the sound. Reaching a truce with the tentacle creatures, they brought one back through the tapestry to confront the priest, but the tentacle creature played them false and betrayed them. The creature invoked magic from a crumbling scroll and bound the priest's form in crackling black energy.
A mighty battle ensued, with the silver furs breaking into the shrine and the spirit of the dwarven priest entering Brother Lew. The battle ended with the death of Sextus, his miraculous return at the hand of the possessed and the utter confusion of Quintus...
Questions, Answers and Yet More Questions
Tension hung heavy in the air for several grains before Rowan stepped between their new companion and the furious Quintus.
“My friend, we have just witnessed the most amazing of miracles…Lew brought Sextus back from the dead! The power of the statue and Brother Lew has returned your brother to life.”
The nose of the crossbow dipped slightly as Quintus looked at his brother’s bloodied and supine form. Sextus grinned and waved weakly. The sorcerer’s eyes darted from bard to dwarf and then to the disappearing form of Lew far above. “Somebody tell me what happened.”
A quarter turn of the hourglass later, Quintus shook his head for the twentieth time. “It still doesn’t make sense! Even if this…dwarf…fought with you, his companion attacked us several time and possessed Lew. If that doesn’t reflect evil, I don’t know what does! Ever since we entered this accursed place, we have been assaulted, tricked and misled. How do we know this isn’t another trick?”
Sextus, reclining atop a makeshift bed of gear, countered, “Brother, I understand your wariness, but I was dead! I saw the same black gate as Rosë, my feet were upon the onyx path, yet I was called back. I feel, in my heart, that the power that enabled my return walks in the Light. The warmth and peace I felt as I was brought back is like nothing I have ever known!”
Rosë and Rowan added their voices in support of Sextus’s position. The heavily armed and armored dwarf stood stoically to one side, listening intently and eying Quintus warily. The elder Scipio continued stubbornly, “So we are just supposed to abandon Lew? We should go after him and we should force this dwarf to show us the way!”
The dwarf shifted slightly, “Ach…I have a name. It’s Cragen and I would appreciate it if you didn’t refer to me as ‘dwarf’!”
Cragen spoke in Old Emorian and the companions understood about half of what he uttered. Frustrated by the quizzical looks, he thumped his fist to his chest. “CRAGEN!”
The conversation continued for some time, with communication gradually improving and Quintus’s hostility lessening slightly. Finally, an agreement was reached to take stock of their situation and look for a way out. Cragen, doing his best to follow the conversation, grinned through his bushy beard and hitched up his weapon belt. “I know the way out,” he beamed.
They scoured the Shrine for useful items, paying special attention to the upstairs rooms where they encountered Volakir and where the black chrysalis still pulsated. Everyone steered clear of the humming cocoon. Everyone, that is, but Quintus. Unable to suppress his curiosity, the sorcerer stretched out his spear.
Crackling black energy surged up the shaft and engulfed Quintus. His body arced in pain and he screamed. The spear, unable to handle the energy, shattered into a thousand shards and sent the sorcerer spinning into a wall. He remained motionless for a few grains, groaned and rolled to his hands and knees. He realized, in a panic, that several spells were gone from his mind and he felt very weak.
(DM’s Note: Quintus has a bad habit of touching or picking up negatively charged items. When he grasped the amulet of the zombie formerly knows as Luc, many sessions ago, it almost killed him!)
Sextus and Rowan comforted Quintus while Rosë and Cragen continued their search. Cragen uncovered a small cache of low-powered clerical scrolls, but little else. Nothing remained in the hiding places he remembered from his youth in the shrine. Communication required patience and hand gestures, as the dwarf’s heavily accented and archaically stilted Old Emorian only partially overlapped with the Tradespeak used by the rest of the party.
The group decided to rest inside the shrine to allow the Scipio brothers to recover from their respective mishaps and for Cragen to call upon Moradin for additional healing miracles. Their rest was disturbed from time to time by “hoots” echoing from outside, but no further assaults were mounted.
Rowan and Cragen’s healing skills returned the party to semblance of health and, thankfully, the draining effect on Quintus proved to be temporary. They prepared their gear and rapidly moved out of the shrine. Cragen stopped before the doors and intoned the name of Moradin, along with other syllables in dwarvish. Faint violet light flared around the doors and loud metallic click echoed through the cavern.
The party hefted their weapons and followed Cragen’s lead to the left around the underground lake. Their presence was soon detected the silver furs and ‘hoot-hoot’ began to waft down from above. Within a turn of the minute glass, clumps of silver furs began demonstrating on the party’s right flank, with groups of half a dozen charging to within a stone’s throw of the party, thumping their chests and retreating.
Whenever a band got too close, Quintus intoned his Ghost Sound, emulating the wailing of young Gordius Vercinox (Rosë’s son) at a monstrous pitch. The cacophony quickly drove back any advance and the party continued unmolested.
Cragen led them into a small fissure on the north end of the underground lake. Rowan lit a lantern as the luminescence from the water faded into darkness. Several faded runes were carved into the rock and Cragen traced his fingers over the etchings, hefted his hammer shaped holy symbol and spoke words of power. Violet light sputtered and receded. The dwarf grunted, drew himself up and repeated his action. The light flared brighter and a portal creaked open in the wall, revealing shallow stairs leading up.
The party moved through and Cragen called upon Moradin to seal the portal behind them. Satisfied, the dwarf pushed through to the head of the column and led the way up. A turn of the hourglass later, they stood on a small landing before another rune-accented wall. Cragen’s faith carried them through and they found themselves in a musty, worked stone tunnel. Rowan flashed his lantern left and right, looking at the floor and walls.
A grin spread across the ranger’s face. “I know where we are!”
To Be Continued…
Next: Déjà vu All Over Again
Last edited:
Blood Jester
First Post
Like I said!
Welcome back!
And, WOOHOO!
Me so happy!
To make this post original, hows the new work?
Welcome back!
And, WOOHOO!
Me so happy!
To make this post original, hows the new work?
Session 18 (Part Six)
Next: Déjà vu All Over Again
It occurred to me that I left a bit of ‘back story’ out of the last post (although I did cover it in an earlier Interlude). Dwarves, as a separate race, disappeared from the lands of the Empire shortly after the defeat and binding of the Shadowlord, some 200 years ago. A full-blooded dwarf has not been seen in over 150 years, although there are several significant enclaves of Khazardyn or “dwarf-blooded” – the closest being the Monrovian highlands to the north and east of Glynden.
Cragen came to the shrine as a very young dwarf and was trained in both the ways of battle (Ftr 1) and the mysteries of Moradin (Clr 3). He took part in the ritual ordered by the strange dwarf Volakir and was turned to stone, along with his compatriots. During the battle with the silver furs, all of the other dwarven “statuary” – nineteen in all – were smashed, leaving him alone. Volakir, in possession of Lew’s body, gave Cragen some terse instructions and then left on an unexplained mission.
The implications of a walking relic may prove to be quite interesting, as we will soon see!
Déjà vu All Over Again
The others looked at Rowan quizzically.
“We are back in the sewers and only a short walk from that bastard Maythrax!”
Rosë, itching for revenge, hefted his axe, “What are we waiting for?”
Cragen cleared his throat. “I dunno ‘ho this ‘Maythrax’ is, but it is not my custom to go killing people with no good reason!”
Quintus, still not convinced of the dwarf’s allegiance, launched into a tirade about the evils of Maythrax and the Shadowblades. Cragen stood silently as the sorcerer ranted. When the elder Scipio paused for breath, the dwarf rolled his eyes, hefted his hammer and shield and nodded at Rowan. The ranger grinned and led a rapid march down the sewer tunnel. The others followed, quietly preparing for battle.
Half a turn of the hourglass later, they stood just beyond the reach of the fulcrum trap. The faint light from Rowan’s hooded lantern clearly showed the furrows in the slime and muck their bodies had plowed several days earlier. “Right, then,” the ranger whispered. “We move as quickly and quietly as we can across the trap and get to the landing, then we are through the door and on them!”
Cragen started to speak, but Rosë leapt away, sprinting forward. The dwarf cursed to himself, “This is a fine plan!”
They gained the landing beyond the fulcrum trap without incident and Rowan busied himself trying to find a way to open the door. Unfortunately, the jostling and clanking of the heavily armored dwarf and weapon-studded Brigante alerted the guards on the other side.
(DM’s Note: Rosë has a habit of picking up almost every weapon he comes across and is currently clanking along with quite a collections of gladii, spathas and other sharp instruments)
“Who goes there? What is the password?”
Panic gripped Rowan’s tongue for a moment, then he blurted out, “Quick! They are right behind us…open the door before they get here!”
The ranger’s clever ruse worked so well that the party heard a large crossbar bang into place on the far side of the door. Rosë howled in frustration and hurled himself at the door. He bounced off and careened into the wall, cursing.
Cragen called out, “The element ‘o surprise is lost…we should retreat. No good can come from a frontal assault like this!”
In his excitement, however, his words came in a rush that was unintelligible to the rest of the party. Sextus looked at him, head cocked, and shruged helplessly. Muffled shouts of ‘Alarm’ echoed from beyond the door as Rosë crashed into the barrier again. “Idiots,” Cragen huffed to himself as he raised his shield and added his considerable weight to the barbarian’s.
The crossbar splintered with a loud ‘crack’ and the door sagged inward, revealing a small guard room. Two stools, one overturned, a half-empty wine bottle and two flagons were all that occupied the room. A door, slightly ajar, was directly across from the party and they heard rapidly retreating footsteps. Rosë charged forward, with Cragen and Rowan right behind him. Sextus and Quintus followed, urging them on.
A short hallway lay beyond the door and Rosë caught a brief glimpse of a Shadowblade backside as it slipped through another door at the end of the corridor. The Brigante increased his pace, bursting through the door and splashing through a pool of viscous liquid. He sought to halt his headlong charge as he noted two tables turned on their side, four leveled crossbows and a familiar figure with a long, two-tined spear in one hand and a torch in the other, all in the space of two grains.
He managed to slide to a halt and sensed Cragen and Rowan crowding in behind him. His eyes flicked down to the oil pooling at his feet then back at the pit fighter, who nonchalantly tossed the flaming brand towards him. Rosë’s mind registered a single thought as the torch arched lazily through the air and four crossbows twanged.
‘Sh*t!’
To Be Continued…
Next: Session 19 (Part One) – Can’t We Do Anything Right?
~ Old One
Next: Déjà vu All Over Again
It occurred to me that I left a bit of ‘back story’ out of the last post (although I did cover it in an earlier Interlude). Dwarves, as a separate race, disappeared from the lands of the Empire shortly after the defeat and binding of the Shadowlord, some 200 years ago. A full-blooded dwarf has not been seen in over 150 years, although there are several significant enclaves of Khazardyn or “dwarf-blooded” – the closest being the Monrovian highlands to the north and east of Glynden.
Cragen came to the shrine as a very young dwarf and was trained in both the ways of battle (Ftr 1) and the mysteries of Moradin (Clr 3). He took part in the ritual ordered by the strange dwarf Volakir and was turned to stone, along with his compatriots. During the battle with the silver furs, all of the other dwarven “statuary” – nineteen in all – were smashed, leaving him alone. Volakir, in possession of Lew’s body, gave Cragen some terse instructions and then left on an unexplained mission.
The implications of a walking relic may prove to be quite interesting, as we will soon see
!Déjà vu All Over Again
The others looked at Rowan quizzically.
“We are back in the sewers and only a short walk from that bastard Maythrax!”
Rosë, itching for revenge, hefted his axe, “What are we waiting for?”
Cragen cleared his throat. “I dunno ‘ho this ‘Maythrax’ is, but it is not my custom to go killing people with no good reason!”
Quintus, still not convinced of the dwarf’s allegiance, launched into a tirade about the evils of Maythrax and the Shadowblades. Cragen stood silently as the sorcerer ranted. When the elder Scipio paused for breath, the dwarf rolled his eyes, hefted his hammer and shield and nodded at Rowan. The ranger grinned and led a rapid march down the sewer tunnel. The others followed, quietly preparing for battle.
Half a turn of the hourglass later, they stood just beyond the reach of the fulcrum trap. The faint light from Rowan’s hooded lantern clearly showed the furrows in the slime and muck their bodies had plowed several days earlier. “Right, then,” the ranger whispered. “We move as quickly and quietly as we can across the trap and get to the landing, then we are through the door and on them!”
Cragen started to speak, but Rosë leapt away, sprinting forward. The dwarf cursed to himself, “This is a fine plan!”
They gained the landing beyond the fulcrum trap without incident and Rowan busied himself trying to find a way to open the door. Unfortunately, the jostling and clanking of the heavily armored dwarf and weapon-studded Brigante alerted the guards on the other side.
(DM’s Note: Rosë has a habit of picking up almost every weapon he comes across and is currently clanking along with quite a collections of gladii, spathas and other sharp instruments
)“Who goes there? What is the password?”
Panic gripped Rowan’s tongue for a moment, then he blurted out, “Quick! They are right behind us…open the door before they get here!”
The ranger’s clever ruse worked so well that the party heard a large crossbar bang into place on the far side of the door. Rosë howled in frustration and hurled himself at the door. He bounced off and careened into the wall, cursing.
Cragen called out, “The element ‘o surprise is lost…we should retreat. No good can come from a frontal assault like this!”
In his excitement, however, his words came in a rush that was unintelligible to the rest of the party. Sextus looked at him, head cocked, and shruged helplessly. Muffled shouts of ‘Alarm’ echoed from beyond the door as Rosë crashed into the barrier again. “Idiots,” Cragen huffed to himself as he raised his shield and added his considerable weight to the barbarian’s.
The crossbar splintered with a loud ‘crack’ and the door sagged inward, revealing a small guard room. Two stools, one overturned, a half-empty wine bottle and two flagons were all that occupied the room. A door, slightly ajar, was directly across from the party and they heard rapidly retreating footsteps. Rosë charged forward, with Cragen and Rowan right behind him. Sextus and Quintus followed, urging them on.
A short hallway lay beyond the door and Rosë caught a brief glimpse of a Shadowblade backside as it slipped through another door at the end of the corridor. The Brigante increased his pace, bursting through the door and splashing through a pool of viscous liquid. He sought to halt his headlong charge as he noted two tables turned on their side, four leveled crossbows and a familiar figure with a long, two-tined spear in one hand and a torch in the other, all in the space of two grains.
He managed to slide to a halt and sensed Cragen and Rowan crowding in behind him. His eyes flicked down to the oil pooling at his feet then back at the pit fighter, who nonchalantly tossed the flaming brand towards him. Rosë’s mind registered a single thought as the torch arched lazily through the air and four crossbows twanged.
‘Sh*t!’
To Be Continued…
Next: Session 19 (Part One) – Can’t We Do Anything Right?
~ Old One
Last edited:
Thorntangle
First Post
Nothing like a noisy, ill-conceived frontal assault by our intrepid heroes to get the renewed story hour kicked off right.
Welcome back Old One.
Welcome back Old One.
Same as the old work...
Blood Jester,
I am actually doing the same thing, except I am doing it for myself. I am a financial planner and financial education consultant (teach financial planning basics to employees of companies and schools).
Thanks for asking!
~ Old One
Blood Jester said:Welcome back!
And, WOOHOO!
Me so happy!
To make this post original, hows the new work?
Blood Jester,
I am actually doing the same thing, except I am doing it for myself. I am a financial planner and financial education consultant (teach financial planning basics to employees of companies and schools).
Thanks for asking
!~ Old One
Thanks!
Thorntangle,
Thanks for the welcome back...
Session 18 was the first session with Cragen (aka Mike the Air Force captain). He tried (in vain) to prevent the headlong rush into the Shadowblade lair, especially when the element of suprise was lost. We ended the session with the flaming torch flying through the air and crossbow bolts speeding toward the party!
~ Old One
Thorntangle said:
Thorntangle,
Thanks for the welcome back...
Session 18 was the first session with Cragen (aka Mike the Air Force captain). He tried (in vain) to prevent the headlong rush into the Shadowblade lair, especially when the element of suprise was lost. We ended the session with the flaming torch flying through the air and crossbow bolts speeding toward the party
!~ Old One
Broccli_Head
Explorer
Glad that you're back, Old One!
Like the new PC!
Well, obviously, the party survives the encounter (since you are 3 sessions behind), but I'm sure it won't be pretty.
Like the new PC!
Well, obviously, the party survives the encounter (since you are 3 sessions behind), but I'm sure it won't be pretty.
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