Banewarrens d20 (Angelsboi's party)

[diaglo]

stand and face the Hands of Hell

"Stupid halfling," Alya thought to herself. "Serves him right. But now what am I going to do with him?"

Darian said almost the exact same thing out loud. "I say we place him in the temple grounds for at least a day and let the birds have their way with him."

"A yard halfling?" Calrom giggled.

"Oy he weighs a ton now," Alya moaned. "Arendel and Calrom give me a hand. Tie him to the back of Marmaduke."

"Tilverton seems like our best bet," Arendel continued. "But I think Darian and Alya should go. I'm not sure the rest of us should be seen."

"I'm not going back to that sewer trap," Calrom added. "What about Ashabenford?"

"Well we could try Peldan's Helm," Alya thought. "Maybe Eliar has a ...."

"What other spellcasters do you know?" Arendel interrupted.

"Well there is Sybil," Alya replied. "You would like her. She is an elf."

"And a necromancer," Darian reminded the kobold. "I'm not sure how friendly the druid and necromancer will be. But it will save us many days. What do we have to trade?"

"I have gold," Sully chimed in. "But it is all on Fiddle."

"Oy," Alya moaned again. "Figure the thief to take it all with him. Well let us try."

The party made for the exit. It was dark when they reached the surface.

"I thought it was day time," Calrom griped. "Didn't anyone keep track of the time."

"You could've asked me," Darian smirked. "I always know when the Morninglord has risen."

UUUuuuummmmmMMmmmMmmmhHHHHhhhhh

A moan broke the silence.

"Come we must hurry," Alya shrieked. "The hands will find us soon otherwise."

 

[diaglo]

The price of fame...

A fog obscured most of their vision. They hurried as a group along the path to the way out of the Barrows. The moaning was louder ahead. The mist gained
two red eyes. They sped at Calrom. He fired his bow. The others responded too. Arendel became a bear. The wraith reached out and grabbed Calrom's chest. He fought it off. Darian called on Lathander's might. The wraith vanished. But all was not silent. The sound of many things scraping across the gravel, sand, and stones carried to the party's ears.

"Come we must hurry," Alya pushed the group. "It is the hands."

Sully assumed pixie form to move faster. Darian stuffed his shield and mace into his pack as he ran. Everyone ran. The reached the ridge. The hands piled below trying in vain to make it out of the Barrows. They didn't succeed.

The party went and collected the horses. They were thinner. So Calrom hobbled them to let them graze. He also scavenged what he could from the surrounding plains. The party took normal watches. Fiddle stayed guard with Alya and Marmaduke.

"That was a weird experience," Alya commented. "I slept."

The morning light hurt Alya's eyes even before it broke the horizon. The mist below cleared. The party went to find Sybil. She was on her island just outside her hut.

"Hello, Sybil," Alya called.

"What is that?" Sybil cried back. "A kobold. Kill it. They are nasty little creatures."

"It's me, Alya," the kobold waved. "Really it's me."

Darian had to step in to save Alya from getting the short end of one of Sybil's sticks. Eventually Sybil sent the boat across to pick up the party. They rowed ashore and were invited inside for tea. After friendly introductions and a brief gossip of the latest adventure, Darian got down to business. He pointed at Fiddle.

There was little the party had that interested the elderly elf. Only Sully possessed anything slightly arcane. The Staff of Air. Sybil offered to hold it as collateral until the party could return her some ingredients. The fresh body of a mind flayer...She obviously had paid close attention to their tale...The dust of the vampire...or the head of the kobold bard. Alya was not too happy about the last one. Sybil even chastised the druid a little for his part in creating the new Alya.

Sully handed the Staff over to Sybil. She pulled a scroll out and touched Fiddle. One second he was stone, the next flesh. No worse for wear apparently.

 

[diaglo]

The circus comes to mound

Fiddle agreed with Calrom and Arendel. The party needed at least a day to collect their thoughts. So much time below had thrown everyone's sense of timing off. As well as making them forget how beautiful the world outside could be. Fiddle played with Marmaduke. Timmay's former riding dog was once again enjoying life. He had gained some weight and looked much more healthy. Soon, Fiddle thought he would forget about the troubles from the past. Calrom and Arendel went to find their own companions. The rest of the party rested. Alya hated the outdoors now during the day. But she tried to keep up her now his spirits. Sully practiced his art with cooking. The party had a decent meal for a change.

When all was said and done the ranger returned with a large Bull.

"Man that is one load of Bull stuff," Fiddle joked. "Only two kinds come from those farms. At least he has horns."

"His name's Mulebone," Calrom responded.

And Arendel appeared with a Large Brown Bear. She eyed Redd and Mulebone. Redd hid behind Marmaduke. There would be no leaving the Bear alone with the rest of the animals for the rest of this expedition.

Alya sang songs and the party had one last hurrah that evening, before they set off for the Banewarren again in the morning. Fiddle needed to kill the vampire or the mind flayer to repay Sully. The party chose the mind flayer if they had the choice. So Arendel and the other spellcasters chose their spells accordingly.

The party approached the mound. A messy scene decorated the entrance. Six horses and their gear lay torn asunder. The hands and something else had done their jobs. Calrom and Fiddle looked for signs or clues as to the owners and the assailants. Military saddles from Cormyr. Obviously another group had joined the mix. There was a symbol of justice on one of the packs.

"Followers of Tyr," Darian said. "I believe they are on our side."

The party descended into the depths of the earth.

 

[diaglo]

Leave No stone unturned...

After scouring around for some time looking for the mind flayer and the Tyrians, the party decided they would try something else.

"I have prepared a spell to destroy the portcullis," Arendel smiled. "Maybe we will find a new way down from there."

The party agreed. They trudged to the trapped room. Arendel rusted the portcullis bars. Fiddle crept inside. He found a lever on the back wall.

"Someone watch the no latch door," Fiddle called back. The others were nowhere in sight. "Figures." Fiddle pulled the lever and went back to the other room.

The door was open. Calrom stood in the doorway.

"There is nothing of magic in here," Alya said. "But I don't like it."

Fiddle hurried back to the lever. He heard Calrom shout. "Close the door."

Fiddle tried the lever. A few seconds passed and he was able to move it. He returned.

"What happened?" he asked. He heard pounding on the other side of the door.

"Some form of demon," Alya answered. "I closed the door. Thank you for locking it."

"Lets go ask Gastronomus if he knows anything more that may help us," Arendel suggested.

The party went back to Danar's aide. Fiddle reminded everyone to keep the door open. Calrom went to see Gastri. His head was torn off and he was missing his eyes. He didn't move.

"Well someone didn't want him talking," Calrom surmised.

"I don't think it was the Tyrians," Darian added. "My guess is some other group. Hopefully the mind flayer."

"Hopefully?" Fiddle balked. "Lets check the plug."

It was open. Things were not as the party expected. Inside the hallway the bane rooms were spiked and sealed with a ward. Even the two empty rooms. The Tyrians had been this way. Calrom closed the plug behind the party. They quickly trotted ahead to see just how far the Tyrians had gone.

 

[diaglo]

dip in the pool

Fiddle approached all of the doors and traps as if they were new. Who knew what the Tyrians had done. Fortunately, none of the traps had been reset. The party made their way to the shrine of Mielikki. They grabbed a quick bite to eat before going further. The bane rooms beyond the secret door were all spiked and warded.

"I'll give them one thing," Alya remarked. "They are very thorough. I wonder if we will find them at the Forbiddance zone."

No such luck. It appeared the Tyrians had passed unaffected.

"Tyrians follow a true and just system," Fiddle guessed. "Much like Danar before he became the Dreadlord. My guess is the Forbiddance is keyed towards those of like morals. That excludes all of us."

Sully and Darian traded attempts to suppress the magic. The party ran across when all was clear. The door was open to the lower chambers. Fiddle led the way down the stairs.

At the bottom the party found the both doors ajar in the anteroom. The pool had odd bits of slime floating around. Fiddle tossed his coin to the middle. Nothing stirred. He jumped in to retrieve his light source and to search the bottom. The water was up to his shoulders. He found a muck covered trap door.

"Anyone got any rope?" Fiddle called back.

"What are you going to do?" Calrom asked as he tossed the line to Fiddle.

"Hold fast while I pull this door," Fiddle replied. "I imagine this will drain the pool. And then we can search here."

Alya turned into a trog and helped Calrom hold the rope. Fiddle pulled the trap door open. The water gushed down the drain. The rope went taut and Fiddle vanished from sight.

 

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Light at the end of the corridor

Luckily Fiddle could hold his breath. The fast running water pulled and pulled, but Fiddle was safe. A minute passed before the water stopped. Fiddle pulled himself back up to the surface.

"Alya," Fiddle choked. "Your potion of water breathing, please. I will go see if the chamber below is clear. There is a drop of 40 or so feet."

Fiddle downed the potion and plugged down the rope. He reached the end of the rope. And was about 5 feet from the floor. The water was mostly gone. Only about 4 or so inches covered the floor and that was still draining away. He was in a chamber with a large Winged Lion like creature. It was a statue. It had a very kindly noble human face. Fiddle untied himself from the rope and moved about the statue. He found nothing else of interest in the room After a few more moments of searching he grabbed the rope and tugged. Alya and Calrom pulled Fiddle back up.

"There is another passage off a chamber below and a statue," Fiddle remarked. "It will put us closer depth wise to the Baneheart. But I don't know if the animals will fit. It was tight almost for me."

"Let us go find the Tyrians first," Darian said. "I don't think they found your trap door. So I imagine you were the first down there."

Fiddle cleaned up as best he could while the others scouted the other rooms. Everyone avoided the Altar room with the Vampire. The party found four more destroyed wights. And piles and piles of bones. They had trouble opening doors in one room. Eventually they turned into an large corridor. Alya with his new vision spied 4 humans crouched by another passage. He returned to the room with the party and told everyone. The priest of Lathander shone his lantern down the hallway.

"Hail Tyrians," Darian called out. "I am..."

"SHHHHHhhh," one large man called back. "Hurry we must away. They are coming."

The four armed and armored figures ran for Darian. Two were human males, a third a human female, and the last an elf woman. Darian

Alya cast invisibility on himself before the Tyrians arrived.

The party closed the door behind the last figure.

 

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Introducing in this corner, wearing...

"Hail priest of the Morning Lord," the lead figure said. "I am Marcus of Tyr. What an unexpected surprise. There are two frog like creatures behind us. I think your light and voice may have gained their attention."

"Allow me to apologize," Darian answered. "We will aid you if it comes to battle. Why are you here?"

"And you may wonder how we knew you were here," Calrom added. "But I believe these were yours. Your mounts are dead." Calrom handed over the remains of the packs.

"The hands got them," Arendel addressed the female elf. "I am Arendel of the Forest. And before we go further allow me to say what lovely armor you have."

Darian quickly made the introductions. He even remembered to introduce Alya and explain before his spell wore off.

The Tyrians included Marcus of Tyr, the expedition's leader; Vaesillian Moonheart, the elf maiden; Mostran Ferelurth of Tyr, the other male; and Helgert Hume, a female warrior. Mostran looked like a priest. While Helgert was way out of her league. She sported a spear, but maybe she didn't know which end to use.

The Tyrians had not covered much ground. They had battled the black ooze, but nothing else. And they had sealed the banes. Their mission was to recover a powerful sword.

"Not the sword of Truth, Lies, and complete escape?" Fiddle asked.

"The same," Marcus of Tyr answered. "We are to return it to the Church of Tyr."

"And we to the Church of Lathander," Darian negotiated. "Perhaps we can work together. There are many seeking the same things. Including a mind flayer, the Zhents, the drow, and a vampire."

Fiddle remembered why he was here. The vampire dust. He also thought there might be another way down past the vampire. There were several doors in the Altar room. He made his way to the door to listen.

 

[diaglo]

The vampire chronicles...

All was quiet. Fiddle tried to silently open the door. It creaked. The figure of the vampire was still there.

"Ah," the vampire said. "I see you did not learn your lesson little one. This time I will not be so lenient."

Fiddle slammed the door and ran. "He's coming."

The others had just discovered Fiddle's absence and were heading his way. Darian called on Lathander.

"For Tyr," Marcus of Tyr bellowed. He led a charge thru the door. Another aura surrounded him.

Alya opened the door to the South of the Altar. Calrom and Fiddle joined him. Arendel, Darian, and the Bear followed the Tyrians.

"Oh this will be wonderful," the vampire cackled. He presented his unholy symbol. Mostran and Helgert were no more. Their armor and weapons collapsed. The husk of their bodies exploded.

Marcus of Tyr engaged the creature in melee. Darian cast a bolt of light. It burned the thing. And Sully followed with a ball of lightning. Alya began to sing.

Calrom pelted it with arrows. And the she-elf pulled a wand. A stream of green magic struck the vampire. Only Fiddle and Arendel remained clear of the conflict. Fiddle manuvered around the vampire. He scanned for other foes and exits. Arendel tried to coersce his Bear into attacking. It wouldn't. In fact it fled.

The vampire slammed Marcus of Tyr and moved clear of Fiddle. It sensed the hin's intent. Sully rolled another ball of lightning on top of the vampire. Fiddle had to duck to avoid getting electrocuted himself. Alya and Calrom continued the barrage of arrows. Darian summoned Lathander's own weapon. The battle raged.

Suddenly the vampire's armor collapsed. A mist drifted passed Fiddle.

"He's here," Fiddle yelled. The others gave pursuit.

 

[diaglo]

Long live the vampire Le Stat...str 16

Darian and Calrom led the pursuit. Fiddle found a few items of worth. Six silver trays, a couple incense burners, a crystal bowl, a crystal flask, the unholy symbol from the vampire, and a suit of full plate armor. He also found some foul wafers. He poured out the flask before tucking it away. Arendel likewise had some luck 6 magical black cloaks.

Zapppp.

The priest and the ranger felt a current pass thru them.

"Oh what the hell we need to destroy the vampire," Darian continued forward. He was stunned for a second and then met another trap which he overcame. Calrom turned back.

Darian stood in another room. A dias lay in front of him capped by a small gold box a black cloth folded on top.

Fiddle checked the area of electricity. "About 10 ft worth," Fiddle said. "I don't think I can..."

"For Tyr," Marcus of Tyr shouted as he plugged ahead to catch up with Darian.

Sully cast a spell from a scroll on Vaesillian. She flew to Marcus' side. Sully assumed pixie form and hoisted Fiddle to safety.

"I don't think I should leave the Bear with the Bull," Arendel told everyone.

"I'm gonna wait here with you," Alya agreed.

Calrom made a leap of faith. He cleared the first trap. He was stunned by the second and avoided the third.

Fiddle examined the box. It was untrapped. He opened it. He found the mist reforming in a chamber below. He told the others. Darian poured holy water inside. It burned but only slowed the reformation.

"The box," Marcus surmised. "It must be his coffin."

With no other idea forthcoming Fiddle, Marcus of Tyr, Vaesillian, Darian and Calrom hacked away at the gold box. Within a few moments it lay in ruins. The mist was gone.

 

[diaglo]

the remains of the day

Marcus of Tyr and Vaesillian returned to the Altar room. Marcus of Tyr wore the scars from this battle well. Darian too braved the traps again. Sully flew Fiddle back to the Altar. Arendel, the animals, and Alya had collected the vampire dust into an empty potion vial. Alya carried the precious material. Only Calrom remained by the dias. He hesitated a few minutes and then stepped lightly back…Poof…Zapppp. The third trap finally revealed its true nature. It transported Calrom into the middle of the electrical trap. He was disoriented a few seconds before he cleared the zone. Alya healed him some. Marcus of Tyr and Vaesillian left the room to see to their companions’ remains.

“Well what next?” Darian asked. “We have the vampire dust.”

“We also know a way down now,” Fiddle remarked. “I don’t think the mind flayer is done with us.”

“I can attempt to scry him,” Arendel mentioned. “If we can find a pool of water.”

“I have used many of my most potent spells,” Alya chimed in.

“Ditto,” from Darian.

“As have I,” Sully agreed. “Maybe we should be cautious.”

“With all that has happened and all the groups now revealing themselves,” Fiddle thought out loud. “I don’t know how much longer we have down here before someone or something seizes the Sword. We may only have this day to accomplish our goal.”

"We shall see," Calrom continued the thought.