Against the Shadows VII - A Faded Glory Story Hour (Re-Updated - 5/17)
- Thread starter Old One
- Start date
?Session 19 (Part One)
Faded Glory returns! For those few that still peruse these pages, FG and Old One are back…
The many months since my last “official” game post have been filled with travel, job changes, a baby, and still more job changes. In addition, an evil entity known as the Neverwinter Nights Persistant World (PW) of Narfell has consumed much of my free time
! After much teasing and promises, the first official update in many moons is ready.
We have played 5 sessions (I think) since resuming play earlier this year and are now ~ 10 session ahead of current happenings. I will try to strike a balance between catching up fairly quickly and providing enough detail to make it fun! As always, commentary, critique and questions are welcome.
The last “official” entry can be found Here, about ¼ of the way down the page.
Without further ado…
Can’t We Do Anything Right?
The smell of singed Brigante filled the air as an oil-fueled flash fire flared around Rosë. He howled in anger, gritted his teeth and continued his charge, scattering droplets of liquid fire. Cragen halted for a grain, raised his shield and bulled his way through the flames. Rowan, a bit more circumspect, allowed the flames to recede before following his companions into the chamber.
Rosë shrugged off several crossbow bolts and leapt over an overturned table into a pair of archers. Cragen made for the menacing figure bearing the ranseur and suffered a painful strike as he came within range of the long weapon. Rowan’s draw dropped in amazement at the familiar sight of the pit fighter. “But we killed him,” the ranger sputtered indignantly.
The barbarian quickly split the skull of one Shadowblade crossbowman, but the other landed a cut across his ribs. Rosë grinned a vicious grin and prepared to kill the man. The stout dwarf traded blows with the pit fighter, but got much worse than he gave. The human warrior used an overturned table and his reach to thwart Cragen’s approach. Rowan traded missile fire with the other pair of crossbowmen, slightly wounding one and receiving a bolt in return. Several Magic Missiles streaked past the ranger’s head as Quintus’s arcane power joined the fray. The magical strike sent an archer spinning to the floor. Sextus launched a bolt at the pit fighter, but it sank into the intervening table.
The Shadowblade facing Rosë cringed as the huge Brigante loomed above him and thrust feebly. Rosë batted the attack aside and spilled the man’s entrails onto the floor with his riposte. He roared in triumph, and then howled in pain as the pit fighter feinted at Cragen and sank the tines of his ranseur into Rosë’s torso before somersaulting toward the open doorway. The dwarf took advantage of the brief respite to call upon Moradin’s favor to heal his numerous wounds. Rowan and Sextus traded arrow and bolt with the last archer while Quintus moved up.
The pit fighter landed one last blow on Cragen before retreating into the hallway, leaving the last archer to his fate and calling loudly for reinforcements. The remaining Shadowblade was ripped asunder by the combined assault of Rosë and Cragen, but shouts and numerous footfalls echoed from down the hallway leading deeper into the complex.
Rosë started to charge after the pit fighter, but Cragen grasped his forearm and pulled him back. “Ach…no…let ‘em go, laddie!”
Quintus coolly surveyed the group. Cragen and Rosë were badly battered; Rowan didn’t look much better. He cursed under his breath at another failed attack. A concerted counter-attack, especially with magical support, might overwhelm them. “Retreat!” He snarled through clenched teeth.
The party pulled back through the forced door and into the sewer tunnels. Rowan squeezed into the lead and quickly led them through the maze to an easily defensible spot past a pit trap they had discovered earlier. They healed as best they could and waited for the inevitable counter attack…an attack, which, thankfully, did not materialize.
They rested and argued. Rosë wanted to return to the hideout and force the issue while Cragen counseled caution. Quintus did not want to abandon Drusilla to whatever fate faced her, but they were tired, injured and low on supplies. Rowan and Sextus were torn between revenge and self-preservation. After much grumbling and many recriminations, they decided to seek a way out of the sewers to rest and refit.
(DM’s Note: They were not too pleased to find their old nemesis - the pit fighter – leading the defense. Cries of “foul” echoed across the Table of Elemental Evil until they realized they had not ensured his demise several session before. Whether he had played dead or been healed from the brink by an ally remains unknown. Delicious!)
They retraced their steps through several parts of the sewers tunnels where they had noted varying water levels at different times. Correctly deducing that the water level raised and lowered with the tides, providing a natural “cleaning” mechanism for the sewer tunnels, they waited until low tide and moved off through the tunnels with due haste.
After several wrong turns, many curses and a face full or two of stinking muck, they found their way into a low-ceilinged sea cave blocked by a badly rusted and algae-covered iron grate. The strength of Cragen and Rosë made short work of the pitted metal and the party finally emerged from the depths onto a rocky shore and into the muggy night air. It took Rowan a few moments to get his bearings and he quietly informed the others that they were on a rocky outcropping below the ruined Bishop’s Palace.
Filthy, exhausted and dispirited…the quintet slowly and painfully ascended into the Cathedral grounds.
To Be Continued…
Next: Session 19 (Part Two) - So You Want to be a Living Legend?
Faded Glory returns! For those few that still peruse these pages, FG and Old One are back…
The many months since my last “official” game post have been filled with travel, job changes, a baby, and still more job changes. In addition, an evil entity known as the Neverwinter Nights Persistant World (PW) of Narfell has consumed much of my free time
! After much teasing and promises, the first official update in many moons is ready.We have played 5 sessions (I think) since resuming play earlier this year and are now ~ 10 session ahead of current happenings. I will try to strike a balance between catching up fairly quickly and providing enough detail to make it fun! As always, commentary, critique and questions are welcome.
The last “official” entry can be found Here, about ¼ of the way down the page.
Without further ado…
Can’t We Do Anything Right?
The smell of singed Brigante filled the air as an oil-fueled flash fire flared around Rosë. He howled in anger, gritted his teeth and continued his charge, scattering droplets of liquid fire. Cragen halted for a grain, raised his shield and bulled his way through the flames. Rowan, a bit more circumspect, allowed the flames to recede before following his companions into the chamber.
Rosë shrugged off several crossbow bolts and leapt over an overturned table into a pair of archers. Cragen made for the menacing figure bearing the ranseur and suffered a painful strike as he came within range of the long weapon. Rowan’s draw dropped in amazement at the familiar sight of the pit fighter. “But we killed him,” the ranger sputtered indignantly.
The barbarian quickly split the skull of one Shadowblade crossbowman, but the other landed a cut across his ribs. Rosë grinned a vicious grin and prepared to kill the man. The stout dwarf traded blows with the pit fighter, but got much worse than he gave. The human warrior used an overturned table and his reach to thwart Cragen’s approach. Rowan traded missile fire with the other pair of crossbowmen, slightly wounding one and receiving a bolt in return. Several Magic Missiles streaked past the ranger’s head as Quintus’s arcane power joined the fray. The magical strike sent an archer spinning to the floor. Sextus launched a bolt at the pit fighter, but it sank into the intervening table.
The Shadowblade facing Rosë cringed as the huge Brigante loomed above him and thrust feebly. Rosë batted the attack aside and spilled the man’s entrails onto the floor with his riposte. He roared in triumph, and then howled in pain as the pit fighter feinted at Cragen and sank the tines of his ranseur into Rosë’s torso before somersaulting toward the open doorway. The dwarf took advantage of the brief respite to call upon Moradin’s favor to heal his numerous wounds. Rowan and Sextus traded arrow and bolt with the last archer while Quintus moved up.
The pit fighter landed one last blow on Cragen before retreating into the hallway, leaving the last archer to his fate and calling loudly for reinforcements. The remaining Shadowblade was ripped asunder by the combined assault of Rosë and Cragen, but shouts and numerous footfalls echoed from down the hallway leading deeper into the complex.
Rosë started to charge after the pit fighter, but Cragen grasped his forearm and pulled him back. “Ach…no…let ‘em go, laddie!”
Quintus coolly surveyed the group. Cragen and Rosë were badly battered; Rowan didn’t look much better. He cursed under his breath at another failed attack. A concerted counter-attack, especially with magical support, might overwhelm them. “Retreat!” He snarled through clenched teeth.
The party pulled back through the forced door and into the sewer tunnels. Rowan squeezed into the lead and quickly led them through the maze to an easily defensible spot past a pit trap they had discovered earlier. They healed as best they could and waited for the inevitable counter attack…an attack, which, thankfully, did not materialize.
They rested and argued. Rosë wanted to return to the hideout and force the issue while Cragen counseled caution. Quintus did not want to abandon Drusilla to whatever fate faced her, but they were tired, injured and low on supplies. Rowan and Sextus were torn between revenge and self-preservation. After much grumbling and many recriminations, they decided to seek a way out of the sewers to rest and refit.
(DM’s Note: They were not too pleased to find their old nemesis - the pit fighter – leading the defense. Cries of “foul” echoed across the Table of Elemental Evil until they realized they had not ensured his demise several session before. Whether he had played dead or been healed from the brink by an ally remains unknown. Delicious!)
They retraced their steps through several parts of the sewers tunnels where they had noted varying water levels at different times. Correctly deducing that the water level raised and lowered with the tides, providing a natural “cleaning” mechanism for the sewer tunnels, they waited until low tide and moved off through the tunnels with due haste.
After several wrong turns, many curses and a face full or two of stinking muck, they found their way into a low-ceilinged sea cave blocked by a badly rusted and algae-covered iron grate. The strength of Cragen and Rosë made short work of the pitted metal and the party finally emerged from the depths onto a rocky shore and into the muggy night air. It took Rowan a few moments to get his bearings and he quietly informed the others that they were on a rocky outcropping below the ruined Bishop’s Palace.
Filthy, exhausted and dispirited…the quintet slowly and painfully ascended into the Cathedral grounds.
To Be Continued…
Next: Session 19 (Part Two) - So You Want to be a Living Legend?
Broccli_Head
Explorer
At long last....
Lela
First Post
Yeah, yeah, yeah. I got beat by three people. It's not my fault though. We've lost the keys to one of our cars and I've been stuck home for four hours more than I should have. Combine that with one computer here with internet access and the fact that I have to slip in when I can to use it (it's not mine) and we have this sad sad situation.Rel said:
Oh, and for my traditional (and heartfelt):
YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I'll even throw in a
WOOOOOOOOO HOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
for good measure.
Thank you Old One. I was surprised at how quickly I got back into it. Story elements have been poping up and down in my head as I went threw the update and while they often had little to do with what was going on, it did help me remember who these people are. Rowen and his sword, Rose and his child, Quintus the bird boy extraordinare, and Sextus' penchent for using (and missing with) that Crossbow.
Finally, I can't wait to see what happened to Drusilla. After all, the sooner she's found the better chance she'll be alive. And the more likely she'll want to stay that way.
)Session 19 (Part Two)
So You Want To Be a Living Legend?
Quintus paused at the top of the bluff next to the sprawling ruins of the Bishop’s Palace. “What are we going to do about him?” He sighed as he jabbed a finger at Cragen.
“Too tall for a halfling, too short for a human and twice the girth of the rest of us…he will stick out like a pink pony on market day.”
All eyes turned to the stocky dwarf. It took Cragen a moment to digest the conversation and he responded by pulling his cloak hood low over his face and wrapping the garment tightly about him. “Garn,” he growled, jerking a thumb at Rosë. “Jus’ lemme stay in back, behind the biggun ‘ere.”
Too tired to come up with a better plan, the sorcerer shrugged and continued on. As they approached the 2nd Rectory, their temporary quarters on the Cathedral grounds, they heard a tremulous voice, “W-w-w-ho goes there?”
They looked up to see the young Acolyte, Viato, standing astride the footpath with a hooded lantern. “Osirian bless me!” The lad exclaimed. “You have returned.”
“Ahh…young Viato,” Quintus replied. “We are tired, hungry and dirty. Would you be so kind as to fire the Caldarium and see to some victuals for us?”
The lad nodded and started to turn away, then raised the lantern higher to illuminate the group. His quick eyes darted from face to face and lingered on Cragen’s hooded visage. “Master Quintus, where is Brother Lew?”
Sextus replied with a grave face and long sigh, “Alas, Brother Lew is lost…”
The younger Scipio yelped a bit and jumped involuntarily as his brother elbowed him in the ribs. “What Sextus meant to say is that Brother Lew is not with us at this time. He is…uh…on…uh…a secret mission critical to the Light.”
The sorcerer’s silver tongue failed him and he stumbled over the fabrication. Quintus glared daggers at Sextus before turning back to Viato. The young acolyte had a stunned look on his face. “Brother Lew? Gone?”
Quintus smiled his most sincere smile and cast his arm about the youth’s shoulder. He felt Viato trembling a bit and softly reassured the lad that Brother Lew was in good hands and that the bath fire wouldn’t start itself. Viato nodded slightly and cast another long glance at Cragen’s squat form. Something he saw under the hood caused his eyes to widen momentarily. Quintus quickly turned the acolyte away from the rest of the group and whispered something into his ear.
The youth bobbed his head once and raced away. The party continued to the Rectory and divested themselves of most of their gear. Viato returned a short time later with a plate of cold beef, some even colder fish chowder, bread and watery wine. He mumbled a brief apology about the meanness of the meal, and then withdrew to stoke the warming fire for the bath. They took care to keep Cragen in the shadows, even guarding the door to the bath while the dwarf washed the worst of the grime away.
Quintus motioned them all closer and spoke in hushed tones, “Eat, drink and bath quickly. Viato will be off to the Abbott the first chance he gets and I am not sure we need to be here when the prelate gets curious. I have already sent a note to Valyria and Captain Rook via Severus, asking for shelter. Rowan, see to the mounts and exit through the postern gate. If anyone asks, you are taking them out to stretch their legs. The rest of you, clean up quickly, gather your gear and let’s be off as soon as we may. We will exit through the concealed postern gate and meet Rowan in the warehouse district.”
“But we just got here,” groused Rosë. “I need a keg of hard ale, a soft bed and a softer woman!”
Rowan looked at Quintus, eyebrow raised, but Sextus started to nod slowly. “The Berylian Edicts…”
Quintus grunted in affirmation and looked at Cragen. “He is the first dwarf to walk openly in the lands in over 150 winters. I don’t know which side of this ecclesiastical argument the Abbott is on, but I don’t want to stick around and find out!”
(DM's Note: The Berylian Edicts were fomented in the Jewel City of Beryl about 10 winters ago. They essentially deny the divinity of other aspects of Osirian (ie, Moradin and other aspects venerated by the Elder Races) and make anethma their worship. There is signficant concern that the Edicts will cause a Schism in the Church of Light.)
The others nodded in agreement, except for Rosë. The barbarian didn’t particularly care about ecclesiastical arguments…he was still thinking about beer.
A near silent flutter of wings announced Severus’s arrival. Quintus plucked a scrap of parchment from the bird’s claws, scanned it and then burned it. “That’s it then…they are expecting us…so let’s not keep them waiting!”
Within ten turns of the minute glass, the party vacated the Cathedral grounds. Quintus sent Severus aloft to watch their back trail while Rowan quickly removed the horses from the stables. The sorcerer led the main group through the hidden postern gate on the north wall of the Cathedral enclosure and head for the docks. Sextus, the last to depart, paused and looked back at the soaring edifice. ‘I wonder if we are doing the right thing,’ he thought forlornly.
Another ten turns of the minute glass later, they were safely ensconced in a cellar under a “Red” faction warehouse. Lady Andrimia, Captain Rook and Valyria soon joined them. Introductions were made, tales were told and a keg of ale was broached.
“So,” Quintus sighed wearily, looking around the room at the gathered faces, “what in all the hells do we do now?”
To Be Continued…
Next: Session 20 (Part One) – Is The Third Time a Charm?
So You Want To Be a Living Legend?
Quintus paused at the top of the bluff next to the sprawling ruins of the Bishop’s Palace. “What are we going to do about him?” He sighed as he jabbed a finger at Cragen.
“Too tall for a halfling, too short for a human and twice the girth of the rest of us…he will stick out like a pink pony on market day.”
All eyes turned to the stocky dwarf. It took Cragen a moment to digest the conversation and he responded by pulling his cloak hood low over his face and wrapping the garment tightly about him. “Garn,” he growled, jerking a thumb at Rosë. “Jus’ lemme stay in back, behind the biggun ‘ere.”
Too tired to come up with a better plan, the sorcerer shrugged and continued on. As they approached the 2nd Rectory, their temporary quarters on the Cathedral grounds, they heard a tremulous voice, “W-w-w-ho goes there?”
They looked up to see the young Acolyte, Viato, standing astride the footpath with a hooded lantern. “Osirian bless me!” The lad exclaimed. “You have returned.”
“Ahh…young Viato,” Quintus replied. “We are tired, hungry and dirty. Would you be so kind as to fire the Caldarium and see to some victuals for us?”
The lad nodded and started to turn away, then raised the lantern higher to illuminate the group. His quick eyes darted from face to face and lingered on Cragen’s hooded visage. “Master Quintus, where is Brother Lew?”
Sextus replied with a grave face and long sigh, “Alas, Brother Lew is lost…”
The younger Scipio yelped a bit and jumped involuntarily as his brother elbowed him in the ribs. “What Sextus meant to say is that Brother Lew is not with us at this time. He is…uh…on…uh…a secret mission critical to the Light.”
The sorcerer’s silver tongue failed him and he stumbled over the fabrication. Quintus glared daggers at Sextus before turning back to Viato. The young acolyte had a stunned look on his face. “Brother Lew? Gone?”
Quintus smiled his most sincere smile and cast his arm about the youth’s shoulder. He felt Viato trembling a bit and softly reassured the lad that Brother Lew was in good hands and that the bath fire wouldn’t start itself. Viato nodded slightly and cast another long glance at Cragen’s squat form. Something he saw under the hood caused his eyes to widen momentarily. Quintus quickly turned the acolyte away from the rest of the group and whispered something into his ear.
The youth bobbed his head once and raced away. The party continued to the Rectory and divested themselves of most of their gear. Viato returned a short time later with a plate of cold beef, some even colder fish chowder, bread and watery wine. He mumbled a brief apology about the meanness of the meal, and then withdrew to stoke the warming fire for the bath. They took care to keep Cragen in the shadows, even guarding the door to the bath while the dwarf washed the worst of the grime away.
Quintus motioned them all closer and spoke in hushed tones, “Eat, drink and bath quickly. Viato will be off to the Abbott the first chance he gets and I am not sure we need to be here when the prelate gets curious. I have already sent a note to Valyria and Captain Rook via Severus, asking for shelter. Rowan, see to the mounts and exit through the postern gate. If anyone asks, you are taking them out to stretch their legs. The rest of you, clean up quickly, gather your gear and let’s be off as soon as we may. We will exit through the concealed postern gate and meet Rowan in the warehouse district.”
“But we just got here,” groused Rosë. “I need a keg of hard ale, a soft bed and a softer woman!”
Rowan looked at Quintus, eyebrow raised, but Sextus started to nod slowly. “The Berylian Edicts…”
Quintus grunted in affirmation and looked at Cragen. “He is the first dwarf to walk openly in the lands in over 150 winters. I don’t know which side of this ecclesiastical argument the Abbott is on, but I don’t want to stick around and find out!”
(DM's Note: The Berylian Edicts were fomented in the Jewel City of Beryl about 10 winters ago. They essentially deny the divinity of other aspects of Osirian (ie, Moradin and other aspects venerated by the Elder Races) and make anethma their worship. There is signficant concern that the Edicts will cause a Schism in the Church of Light.)
The others nodded in agreement, except for Rosë. The barbarian didn’t particularly care about ecclesiastical arguments…he was still thinking about beer.
A near silent flutter of wings announced Severus’s arrival. Quintus plucked a scrap of parchment from the bird’s claws, scanned it and then burned it. “That’s it then…they are expecting us…so let’s not keep them waiting!”
Within ten turns of the minute glass, the party vacated the Cathedral grounds. Quintus sent Severus aloft to watch their back trail while Rowan quickly removed the horses from the stables. The sorcerer led the main group through the hidden postern gate on the north wall of the Cathedral enclosure and head for the docks. Sextus, the last to depart, paused and looked back at the soaring edifice. ‘I wonder if we are doing the right thing,’ he thought forlornly.
Another ten turns of the minute glass later, they were safely ensconced in a cellar under a “Red” faction warehouse. Lady Andrimia, Captain Rook and Valyria soon joined them. Introductions were made, tales were told and a keg of ale was broached.
“So,” Quintus sighed wearily, looking around the room at the gathered faces, “what in all the hells do we do now?”
To Be Continued…
Next: Session 20 (Part One) – Is The Third Time a Charm?
Last edited:
Similar Threads
Spelljammer
Spelljammer Collector’s Guide Revisited
