Banewarrens d20 (Angelsboi's party)

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Up next; Stay tuned

update after this Sunday.

currently, the party is in Tilverton in the Kingdom of Cormyr. they are on their way to the Barrowfields of Mistledale to attempt to complete a quest for the Church of Lathander. Darian has sworn an oath of secrecy. But it involves some Magic Sword of the Church.

Froof will be leaving the group. Something about improving his lot in life by advancing his education.

 

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shopping spree and parting

Fiddle heard tales of a light strong metal, mithril, fashioned by the dwarves into lightweight armor. He wanted to see if it was true. He asked around Tilverton. No luck. Darian said he had tried in Suzail with similar results. So Fiddle resolved himself to watching and waiting at the Flagon Held High. Unfortunately, Erin left. He said something about catching back up with the party some time in the distant future. But for now he was off to Candlekeep. A trek halfway across the Heartlands. The rumors persisted.

• Orc and Gnolls are raiding the Northride.
  Drow and gibberlings have been raiding in the Dales
  A traveling minstrel, Jevvica Noir, is performing tonight at the Flagon Held High
  The paladin Kelerecent of Lathander has gone missing
  A dragon has been hunting the hills north of Tilverton
  A new priest has taken over at the cemetery south of town
  A merchant is looking to hire guards to do some logging in the Cormanthor forest
  The magical armor that belonged to King Azoun has gone missing
  Adventurers are still hunting for the lair of the Dragon that killed the King
  Goblins have been raiding the mountains around High Horn
  Alusair intends to grant the title of Baron of the Stonelands to anyone who can build and maintain a castle there for a year
  The crown has raised taxes yet again to pay for the rebuilding of Arabel
  The crown jewels of Cormyr have been stolen! They were smuggled out of Suzail in a trading caravan

Sully had gone off to mark the occassion of the party's successes. He came back with the proof. At least one new tattoo. Alya bided her time also at the Flagon Held High with Vlad. Darian spent time fashioning several items. Some with magic. Others for decoration. Others for who knows what reason.

The bard, Jevvica Noir, was okay. Her performance was no better than any other wandering mistrel. But she winked at the party. Recognition. Alya and Fiddle looked at each other.

"I guess after Erin," Vlad made a comment, "she wants more of this party."

The group hung around until the end of the performance. As Jevvica went around thanking her audience and accepting tips she leaned forward and whispered to Alya. She continued the rounds and left the inn.

"Outside," Alya said. "She wants to talk with us."

Sully, Vlad, Fiddle and Alya exited stage left.

 

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Backroom, alley, or trusty wood, I used her she used me...

"Can we help you?" Alya asked.

"Not here," Jevvica responded she motioned to the alleyway and ducked behind the corner.

The party looked at each other and shrugged. Fiddle looked around to see if anyone was watching before he followed.

"Do you have any information for me?" Jevvica asked. "That is why you came, is it not?"

"Information?" Alya queried. "You've got the wrong group."

"You were with Erin, were you not?" Jevvica began to second guess herself. "Did he not send you?"

"Erin is gone," Sully answered. "He left rather abruptly. With barely a by your leave. Although now you mention it. You do look familiar."

"Oh, I see," Jevvica started to leave. "Too bad, really, I pay rather well for relevant information."

"Well, now," Fiddle perked up. "I know quite a bit of things."

"For the good of the Realms," Jevvica tried to add. "I'm all ears."

"Bah, screw the Realms, what's in it for me," Fiddle remarked.

"I'll pay, but first give me some idea what you know," Jevvica bargained.

"Well, the drow are about..." Fiddle looked at Jevvica she didn't seemed interested. "And there is a tunnel in the basement of the Old Skull Inn in Shadowdale..."

"How do you know this?" Jevvica interrupted.

"Ha, hooked her, " Fiddle thought.

"Fiddle," Alya cautioned. "Darian won't like this. You swore an oath."

"Bah, he swore an oath and he ain't here," Fiddle replied.

"Mistress Noir," Sully asked. "why would you want to know these things?"

"A Harper," Vlad blurted out. "She's one of those noisy good for nothing Harpers. Sticking their noses into other peoples affairs and making them spend their time, money, resources, and lives to correct problems only the Harpers find wrong." He spit to emphasis the point.

"Why yes," Jevvica nodded.

"Well I was there," Fiddle answered without a care. "I wondered out of a portal..."

"We're going now," Alya cut in. "We're off to Mistledale."

"Rather rude, your elf companion is," Jevvica said to Fiddle. "If you do find out anything more, talk to Jhaer Brightsong in Ashabenford."

 

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A few more pieces fall together

The party set off for Mistledale. They passed Jehovah's WatchTower and the Thunder Peaks. Nothing bothered their travels. Well, it did rain nonstop. But no monsters, bogey men, or hazards. By the time they reached Peldan's Helm they were still ready for a break.

"Ho there in the Keep," Fiddle yelled up to the gate.

"Ho there on the road," Sabine replied from on top of the tower. "Open the gate." She hollered down to the other guard. "The Inn is quite full. The Company of the Burning Brand has returned also."

"It is good to be wanted," Alya smiled.

The party went to the Inn. When Wilf saw them he had Gora clear a space for his heroes. He sat and listened and asked and chatted and...It seemed as if the world was heading to bad times.

• Gibberlings attacked a farm near the verges of the forest northeast of Peldan's Helm
  Dumic the Red met with a strange red-robed man at his ranch
  A new logging camp has been set up south of Elven Crossing to provide lumber for the Ublers, who are talking about building a sawmill on the Ashaba
  Wharlum Deepdelver and his guide Dorek Stonebeard have returned from their expedition to the Thunder Peaks.
  The Company of the Burning Brand returned from their latest adventure talking of finding a shadowy dark elf in a crypt.

Fiddle noticed the dwarves in the corner drinking. He would talk to them later. For now Himool and Company talked of their adventures. Free drinks. Carl sat off to the side rolling his eyes. Gerta the dwarf was missing, replaced by a half-elven woman with the sign of Sune.

"Sune," Fiddle thought. "I'm getting lucky tonight " Fiddle approached Carl.

"How fares your travels runt?" Carl asked.

"Well," Fiddle answered showing off his gauntlets, belt, boots, necklace of teeth, and items. "And what really happened in that crypt? We killed your friend the dark elf."

"I split him in half," Vlad added.

Carl exchanged some information with the party. Gerta died at the hands of a wraith and a failed attempt to send the power of Moradin chasing it away. When Himool was ready they would try again in a tenday to enter the Barrows. Sully tried to swap a few scrolls, but Carl wasn't interested.

"Fiddle," Alya interrupted. "Would you help me with the horses ?"

Fiddle mentioned, "Damarran" to Carl as he left.

"So it was you," Carl called after him. "That explains much"

 

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A plan is hatched and set in motion

"I have a plan," Alya said when they were alone. "And I know you have been eager to try it. What do you think it would take to swipe Himool's sword?"

"Sweeeettt," Fiddle chuckled. "But I'm afraid even though Himool, the lady elf, and the new comer are almost drunk Carl and his familiar are not. Let us observe them a little more and see if the opportunity presents itself. Do you think anyone else would be interested in helping?"

"Well I'll ask Sully and maybe Vlad," Alya nodded. "But Darian is a no-no. I have another idea once we succeed." She smiled like the cat who ate the canary.

Fiddle went back inside. Darian had gone off to see to Wilf's wife. She had been ill. Heartbroken really since her adopted daughter, Bernedette, had perished. And seeing the dwarves had reminded her of the loss. Fiddle approached the dwarves. They looked very worse for wear.

"What did that to you?" Fiddle asked. "Not the drow I hope."

"Nay," Wharlum replied. "I took 20 of me strongest and bravest kinsman. We made short work of the drow. And all the other things in the place that got in our way. No, all went well. We had entered the old clanhold. And were on our way to recovering the lost cache of Duergeddin's weapons when we neared an underground lake. There...I saw my kin flee. Some unnatural fear overcame them. A dragon..."

"Dragon did you say?" Fiddle spoke up. "I'm a Dragonslayer."

"You don't say," Wharlum handed Fiddle another ale. "Drink up and tell me of your experiences. We are looking to hire some mercs."

Fiddle told the dwarves all he could over drinks. But the dwarves had been at it for what was probably many days. They passed out before Fiddle settled on a deal. Which was fine. Cause Fiddle hadn't consulted his party.

"No going it alone," Fiddle thought. "I can handle myself, but I still need someone to watch my back."

The next day Darian spent crafting another item. One to restore Wilf's wife. So Alya laid out her plan to Sully and Vlad. Both were apprehensive at first. But Alya explained what she had in store for Darian afterwards. They all laughed. Vlad and Sully agreed. If for no other reason then to shut Himool up and to make Darian the butt of some private joke. That night Fiddle hung around Carl again and listened to Himool repeat the story of the Barrows adventure.

The following day the party left. They bid their farewells to Wilf and Gora. Wilf's wife was much better. They headed to the edge of the woods. From here Fiddle and Sully would head back. Alya made Fiddle vanish first. And Sully changed his appearance. They hustled for the spell would not last long.

 

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Never send a man to do a hin, elf, and gnome's job

"What brings you to Peldan's Helm, young Missy?" Sabine asked Sully.

"I've come to sing a few songs and learn some more gossip," the young, now female gnome, replied. The spell had altered Sully's vocal chords too.

Fiddle strolled inside undetected. The gates were still open. He went to the Inn to wait for Sully.

Sully stayed, chatted, and explained her sudden appearance with little to no equipment and very weak singing voice. to the guards. Eventually she was allowed entrance. And was directed to the Inn.

"Fiddle?" Sully whispered to the outside air. "I'll cast a spell on the sword from my scrolls. When you have it let me know."

Fiddle entered the Inn. He made his way to the sword. Himool had left it in the middle of the table again on display. The Company of the Burning Brand wasn't drunk yet. They had just sat down for their meal.

Fiddle grabbed the sword. It blinked out of existence. But for a brief moment things had intensified. The invisibility spell was working but not fully. Fiddle made for the door. He heard Carl's voice starting to rise. Fiddle beat feet.

"I've got it," Fiddle said to Sully as he ran for the gate. Behind him a mass of sticky webs covered the porch of the Man with Fire in his Hands Inn. Fiddle ran faster.

"Stop the thief," a voice shouted.

"She's casting a spell," another added.

"Where'd she go?" the first asked.

"She's there," a female voice mumbled.

Fiddle was out of earshot now. His heart raced as his feet pounded the pavement. He slowed as he approached the gate. The guards seemed to be unaware of the disturbance at the Inn. Fiddle crept past. And then beat feet. He ran and ran and ran. Hopefully Sully would meet back up with him and Alya at the predetermined spot.

Half an hour later, Sully appeared. The ruse of going hunting almost didn't work on Darian. But Alya was able to make the most of it. They also broke camp. Sully and Fiddle went back to lay some false tracks.

 

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Don't talk to strangers

Before bedding down for the night, Alya suggested to Darian he would find something very interesting in his dreams. Fiddle tried hiding the sword while Darian was distracted. But it was next to impossible. He hadn't heard the command word, so there was no way to turn the flame off. He placed it in the fire pit and covered the hilt with a stone. The fire burned brighter.

The night passed without incident. No patrols. No Himool and Company. Nothing. Some time in the night Alya moved the sword to Darian's side.

The next morning Darian startled everyone. "I've had a vision. And by the looks of this sword it was true." Alya tried to make him believe the truth in the dream. Darian then went to pray for his spells.

A few moments later, Darian returned, "Funny. I got the impression Lathander was laughing at me."

The other party members all looked away as they too tried to suppress their laughs.

The rain stopped. And the travel ahead was clear. Even as the party passed the familiar "BEWARE" sign outside the Barrows, they could see for miles. An old crone moved their way. And further into what was normally mist the party could see a lake and an island with a hut. Sully covered himself in magic.

"Hail Grandmother and well met," Alya called.

"Tell your small friend I'm no threat to you," the elder croaked. Her voice was like rustling leaves. Barely audible.

"Who are you?" Darian asked. "And how do you survive here?" Darian thought about casting a spell of his own but had second thoughts as the old woman got closer. She was an elf. A wrinkled elf. Very ancient.

"I'm Sybil. Come, follow me, we will have tea and chat," Sybil replied.

The party now noticed a small canoe. Fiddle and Alya got in with Sybil and paddled across the lake. Fiddle sang a song,

"row, row, row your boat...

 

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Baba Sybil's almost dancing hut

As Fiddle paddled, Alya and Sybil chatted. Alya remembered a story or two about from her studies about an elven maiden who followed the forbidden arts of necromancy. Her name was Sybil. And by this crone age she very well could be the same one. When they reached shore, Alya and Sybil departed and Fiddle went back for the others.

"I hope this doesn't turn ugly," Fiddle thought. He increased his strokes just in case.

Sully flew over as Fiddle took Darian and Vlad by boat. The horses had to stay behind. On the second trip Fiddle finally got a good look at the hut. It was made of very large bones. A bone fence surrounded the place, too. Nothing grew on the island.

The party hurried inside. The interior was a simple place. More workshop and laboratory than home. But Sybil offered them some tea. The drinking bowls were unusual.

"The skull of a?" Darian asked.

"Orc," Sybil replied. "I have bones from all my subject matter. I will answer any questions you wish to ask if you do a favor for me."

Darian and Alya continued to chat away about the Barrows.

"What's the favor?" Sully broached.

"I need someone to take care of my nemesis, the White Wolf," Sybil said. "Bring me the pelt."

"Done," Fiddle agreed. "We fought the pack once already. Well, I didn't but the others did. I was guarding the horses. We will be back to ask our questions when it is dead. We must leave. I don't wish to leave our horses out there hobbled and unprotected."

The party bid a quick farewell and setoff before it was dark. They would have to camp on the open plain. But at least they could see. Still Fiddle hid in the tall grass.

Vlad had first watch. The others settled in for the night. Sully covered himself in magic again before sleeping.

 

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if you want to ride; don't ride the White Wolf

"Wake up," Vlad kicked everyone awake. "We've got company."

A very, large mangy Off White colored Wolf and 4 normal sized ones growled and charged into the camp. The White Wolf neared Vlad and Darian. One approached Sully. One cornered Alya near the fire. One off to Darian's other side. And the last one circled Vlad's other side. Fiddle was left alone on the far side of the fire.

Fiddle flung a dagger at the wolf near Sully. A solid hit. But it didn't seem to bother the beast. Darian stepped back and called on Lathander's protection. Alya stepped back and started to sing. But the wolf near her grabbed her leg. She was paralyzed with fear. Her elven blood frozen or forgotten The ghoulish wolf yanked her from her feet. Sully moved aside and fired off a stream of magic at the White Wolf and his companions. It was unaffected. But one of the smaller wolves froze. Vlad stabbed out with his rapier. The wolves responded. The White Wolf bit at Vlad. Alya's wolf ravaged her as she lay frozen. Vlad too was bitten by another wolf. He too froze in place. His was more of a paralysis. The ghoulish wolf yanked him to the ground. Sully's foe snapped at the air.

Fiddle pulled another dagger and attacked the ghoul on Alya. Lightning Strike scored a gash. Darian stepped back and called on the Sun. The clouds blocked his attempts to rout the ghouls. Sully fired another round of magic into the White Wolf. This time as three balls of painful magic. The wolves bit at Fiddle, Darian and Sully. None landed on the party. The White tried for Darian. The protection from Lathander was just in time.

Fiddle attacked on the defensive. His dagger dug into the ghoul. Still the ghoul fought on. Darian tried again. This time the clouds parted and the power of Lathander was strong. The four ghoulish wolves exploded. Sully fired off another round of magical balls. The White Wolf lunged again for the priest.

Fiddle tumbled passed the White Wolf and attacked from the rear. Lightning Strike got some attention. Darian stepped back and tried one more time to force the White to flee. It wasn't afraid of Lathander. This undead was much too powerful. Sully concentrated more magical balls into the White. It was starting to feel the results of its injuries. It turned on Fiddle. It miscalculated the hin's height. And chomped too high.

"Yikes," Fiddle screamed. He went into a defensive posture and stabbed out with his dagger and Lightning Strike. Another hit. Darian swung with his new flaming sword. A new open wound that didn't spill any blood. It was reminded of its vulnerability by Sully. The White Wolf fled.

Fiddle gave chase. Although, he couldn't catch up he hadn't lost sight of the beast. More importantly the others could still see. Darian healed Alya. She came around. Sully fired three more balls of magic. The White Wolf fell over dead once again.

Fiddle skinned the beast. Not his best job, but it was passable. Vlad was paralyzed for some time.

 

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Tomb of Horrors here we come.

Sully flew across and retrieved the boat. He brought it back to the party before flying back on his own. Fiddle let Vlad and Alya paddle them. It was cramped on the small boat but they made it. They called out for Sybil. She let them inside.

"Did you find Hugo?" Sybil asked. "My Wight Wolf."

"Wight?" Darian stuttered. "That explains it. You could've told us you meant he was undead."

"That's what I said," Sybil chided. "I told you the truth."

"Nevermind," Fiddle produced the pelt. "What's my future?"

"Excellent," Sybil took the pelt and Fiddle's palm. "You will live a short life."

The others laughed. Fiddle didn't get the joke. ?:?

The party asked to know more about the Barrows. The comings and goings of the various creatures. What the creatures were. The traps. Whatever they could to find the Sword of Truth, also known as the Sword of Lies or Light or whatever.

Two very large mounds were important. The one to the South end of the square was the supposed final resting place of a great Netherese Mage, Acererak. :eek The one to the Southwest was that of Kersherec his right hand man. The necropolis and best guess for the Sword of Truth had another familiar name, Estelogoth Malkith. Sybil also mentioned a presence for good wandering the Barrows. The party could only guess it was the lost paladin, Kelerecent of Lathander.

Sully and Darian asked to have some items examined. Sybil needed to do some of her own magic. They returned to their horses. In the night the party heard activity in the Barrows. The paladin most likely. The next morning, Sybil gave Darian the command word to extinguish the flame. It had once belonged to the Captain of the Guard for Kersherec. The party left on a high note. Sybil told them to return when and not if they needed help.

Fiddle put his things in the first tomb the party had visited oh so many tendays ago.

"Lets try the tomb with the Fake Sword first," Alya suggested. "And then the necropolis or the one with the grinning skull. Kersherec's and Acererak's tombs of Horrors. ."

"I think I heard all three were created by the same man at different editions of his life." Fiddle mentioned.