Banewarrens d20 (Angelsboi's party)

[howandwhy99]

Calrom's restless thoughts before sleep... (PG13)

May the Gods burn it all!

This is easily the worst hiding trip, yet. Not only have I been seen by Dalesfolk, but I've stupidly gone ahead and thrown in my lot with a group which includes two of the bastard race. The first was easily despised: a female who whored herself out to every beast willing to mount her. But the other is a Keeper of the Secrets of the Earth. Mother would want to meet him. And by the rites I am supposed to lead him to her.

*ugh* Damn it all...

But... I don't think he has recognized me yet. Perhaps he's from another Dale. Or perhaps he's spent too much time with his own breed and hasn't heard of me. Well, my real identity.

Curses! Why didn't I give them a false name? Calrom Nathos is as uncommon a handle as a jeweled doorknob. The whole of that sewer town Tilverton is probably looking for me too now. I mean, it was funny when the female was damned to hang as surely as the rest of us. (I could smell the fear on her. She hid it well, but I am becoming more and more attuned to her lies) But now that the Gods have cursed her with an outside to reflect what's on her insides, I doubt any lie could prove her guilt.

At least the rest of the group has some honor. The Battlecleric of Lathandar is a half-decent leader when he decides to be. He's as stubborn and blind as the rest of the sun worshippers, but he has brought me back from the brink of death more than one time. The shortfolk's humour has been a blessing, as well. If only we weren't stupidly courting our own deaths.

And why am I down here? A mission for the church, of course. And not mine. At least it's kept me out of town. And out of Mistledale proper. The Barrowmounds is a hell of a place to hide, though. Four times we've sallied into the center mounds below. And with luck, a fourth time I'll return. With or without.

I guess one good thing has come out of this last trip. Mulebone is as fierce an animal as any I've known. A real fighter. And what strength! Why the smell alone could knock a man down. By the Gods, I wonder how the others will sleep this night. But this is pure heaven for a country boy like me. Like taking the forest with me wherever I go. That lousy farmer was just going to work him to death anyhow. Rothe deserve to run free.


Hmm... I wonder when Alya will bed down? Mulebone could use a nice snack. *snicker* But she makes me wonder. Why would one of her own kind choose to bring her spirit back in the form of such a hated creature? Vengeance? A lost bet? Some twisted joke? It's so unlike a Druid. Ahh well. If there is one truth that never changes, it's that all Elves are the same at heart.

 

[arielslover]

A druid's thoughts on events past...


...What a journey it's been ever since I decided to leave the
grove. When Nerisella and I volunteered to investigate the
foresting outside of Cormanthor, I never thought I'd end up where
I'm at today. Now, as I write this, I've lost Nerisella, helped
turn a fellow elf into a creature of the night, and do not see
myself getting any closer to investigating the foresting.

All is not lost, however. I have replaced Nerisella with Jake, a
brown bear. What he lacks in grace and sophistication, he more than
makes up for it in brute strength. I'd love to bring him back to
the grove to see what everyone thinks of him. I will have to make
sure he doesn't feast on the other animals that our group has, or
the little kobold that is now adventuring with us. The group I
speak of is quite an interesting lot. I met them through a gnome
that I had met upon entering Tilverton. His name is Sully. He is a
wizard of some sort. I've noticed over the course of our adventure
that his balls of lightning tend to damage the party as much as our
enemies. Nerisella got toasted once or twice by him. He means
well, though. The rest of the party consists of Darian, a priest of
Lathandar; Alya, an elven bard; Fiddle, a halfling scout; and
Calrom, a fellow fighter for the wildernerness.

Calrom concerns me. While he fights for the land, he seems to have
this condemnation for elves. I fear this hatred will begin to
consume and overwhelm him. Sometimes, I lay at night half-expecting
a throwing axe to come flying at me. I want to trust him, but I'm
not sure he would help me if I needed it. Perhaps a letter to the
Circle asking for guidance would be a wise choice.

The elven maiden is probably another matter that should be deferred
to the council. When she died, I did my best to help raise her.
However, there are many enemies of elves, and I fear one of them
caused the raising to go bad. Nature always has a way to balance
herself. My feelings on her are torn. The body is a kobold, but
the mind is an elf. How can I chastise Calrom for his beliefs when
I have similar ones for kobolds and dark elves? Perhaps the Circle
will know a way to restore her elven form.

I must get some rest soon. We have been busy trying to recover a
sword for Darian's church. I'm concerned that our tampering will
alter the balance. Perhaps there is a way to accomplish Darian's
goals without doing too much harm.

 

[diaglo]

so now you see a couple others have added their thoughts. expect an update after this coming Sunday's session.

 

[howandwhy99]

Reader Feedback

Hey y'all,

I know plenty of people have looked at this thread from the view count. Why don't we hear from our faithful readers? How do you all like the story so far? Who is your favorite character besides Calrom? Any exciting events you would like to see happen? Any powerful magic items you want to be given to your favorite character?

Speak up and let us know.

 

[diaglo]

A fireside chat...the council of war

"Let us try the new door," Arendel suggested. "Now that the vampire is gone there is nothing to prevent us from continuing."

"First we should discuss some things, Marcus of Tyr," Fiddle interrupted.

"What were those frog things?" Darian asked. "Can you describe them."

"Very well," Marcus of Tyr and Vaesillian drew closer. "We trust you. You have proven yourselves in combat to be worthy. Let us continue together." He then went into detail about the large frog creatures. And he sketched on Fiddle's map all the areas they had explored.

"I know what they are," Alya piped in. "They are other worldly beings. They are called Salad. There are Green, Chef, Chicken, Tuna, and other varieties. The ones you describe are Caesar Salads. I don't think we should mess them unless we have to. The other door or the pool are our best and safest choices."

"The pit was a tight fit," Fiddle mentioned. "I don't think the animals will make it."

The party tried to figure a way to get the animals down, but nothing came to them. They finally decided the door was their only option. Maybe it led down also.

"And there is still the problem of our pursurers and those we pursue," Darian concluded.

"How so?" Marcus of Tyr asked.

Fiddle went into great detail about his theories on whom may be involved. Calrom added a few things. Sully, Darian and Alya got nervous as Fiddle continued to ramble. Arendel still didn't know what to think of the party.

"You robbed the Vladaam Estate," Marcus of Tyr shook his head. "And you accuse the Harper Nicolon Regis, an acquaintance of mine of framing you. I must think on this. I should take you back to Tilverton immediately, but I am sworn to complete this quest."

Fiddle tried to continue with his helpfulness. Darian waved his mace menacingly and raised his eyebrows. The body language spoke volumes. Calrom eventually got Fiddle's attention.

"How do we get Darian out of the room to steal the sword and necklace of keys from Marcus?" Calrom whispered. "Should we let Sully in on this?"

Fiddle shook his head. He knew the paladin would come to see the light. A little while passed. Marcus and Vaesillian talked.

"If you will agree to a test," Marcus of Tyr spoke up. "We will get to the bottom of this tale."

"Test?" Arendel fidgeted. "What kind of test? Maybe we can wait."

"Come now," Marcus of Tyr hurumphed. "It is not painful."

"I agree," Fiddle smiled.

"As do the rest of us," Calrom hurriedly added. "If Darian thinks it best."

"I see no problem," Darian shrugged.

Marcus of Tyr concentrated. "It is done. You do not lack the moral fiber for which these crimes speak so readily against. I believe you. But we will conclude this investigation later."

 

[diaglo]

Door to door saleshin...

Fiddle approached the door. Everyone stood at a distance.

"Are you ready," Fiddle smirked.

Marcus of Tyr and Vaesillian strode forward. "Onward."

Fiddle opened the door. A corridor. Calrom and he quickly scouted ahead. They found several more doors and a chamber before the corridor made a bend. Another of those generator rooms. They also found a stairway leading down. The party split up. Half wandered aimlessly ahead by the doors. Half hung back by the stairway. Fiddle tried his own route. He stood guard by the generator.

"Fiddle," Calrom called. "Come look at these doors."

Fiddle turned to see two bane room doors. Both were unlocked. And both were empty.

"Marcus of Tyr," Fiddle called. "Do you want to seal these still? They are empty." Fiddle stood by to provide a light while Marcus went to work. Marcus of Tyr painted the doors and spiked them. Fiddle hummed a tune. (Lee Marvin and Clint Eastwood would be proud)

Calrom, Alya, Arendel, the Bear, and Sully had already gone around the bend. Arendel cast light Calrom's armor. This did not make the ranger happy. Darian and Vaesillian soon vanished down the stairway. Fiddle continued to watch the paladin work. Mulebone, Marmaduke, and Redd hung back by the Altar room.

"This one's open too," Calrom called back to Fiddle. "Don't you want to see?"

"Anon," Fiddle called back. "Anon we will be along shortly."

When Marcus of Tyr finished, he and Fiddle went to catch up. The corridor got colder as they approached. The others stood near another chamber. It was near freezing. Light sources were limited. Fiddle broke out his new candles. He handed one to Arendel and Sully. And dropped one into a dark pit beside a badger. The badger vanished a few moments later. The light went out a few feet down into the pit.

WWWwwwhhhhammmmm

Calrom was thrown against the wall. A jolt struck him from the only unopened door as he had seized the handle. Fiddle checked the door. The trap was spent. He opened the door and rolled aside. Alya peeked inside.

An iron padlocked chest wrapped in heavy chains. A black mark covered the back wall. The sign of the hands burned into the plaster.

 

[biorph]

reader response

well as reader I think Calrom should get a cursed "belt of gender bending and mindless obedience and servitude to elves"

 

[diaglo]

Traps, tricks, and treats

Fiddle went next door. Inside he found 3 desiccated corpses, two orcs and an Ogre. The room was empty otherwise.

"Fiddle," Alya sang out from the chest room. "Why don't you open this lock for us?"

"I'm not feeling inspired," Fiddle responded. "Where is my muse. What is my motivation. I'm just not..."

Alya planted the suggestion into Fiddle's mind. She also helped inspire him by singing words of encouragement as he worked on the chest.

Clickk.

"Done," Fiddle said. "I haven't detected any other problems or detriments to opening this chest. But I'm not doing it."

"Shall I?" Marcus of Tyr asked. He moved forward. Fiddle backed out of the room.

From inside the chest Marcus of Tyr pulled out a mace, 5 crossbow bolts with strange metal heads, a pearl, and a ring. Arendel played with the ring before handing it to Alya. Marcus of Tyr held onto the mace, pearl, and bolts.

"Not all of the banes were evil," Alya remarked. "However, these are all magical. I suppose Darian would be interested in many of them. There isn't anything else down this way anyway. Lets go find the rest."

The party returned to the stairway. Vaesillian and Darian stood most of the way down. There was a chamber beyond with 8 statues. Darian noted that some of them were familiar: Danar, Parnaith his wife, and the angel Bastian; while others were unknowns. Marcus of Tyr handed Darian the items from the chest.

Fiddle checked the bottom of the stairs and the floor. No traps. There was a set of double doors across the way. He stepped forward to examine the first statue, Danar. There was a bright flash as a wall of multiple colors appeared opposite the stairs.

"Well there are guarding something very important," Sully surmised. "That is a very potent spell. My guess is we want to go that way."

The spellcasters discussed how to bring down the wall. In the meantime, Calrom played around with one of the statues. Danar. It pivoted. Alya went to another one across the way. As she moved it. The original one went back to its former position.

"A combination lock," Fiddle yelled. "Just like the one to open the plug. But this one has more parts. It could take us some time."

The party played around with the statues. On the 12th try they got it right. They heard a gong and then a popping sound. Everyone backed away to the stairs.

 

[diaglo]

The light flickers but doesnt' falter

Two dwarf like constructs made of stone holding metal hammers appeared as the wall collapsed. The doors behind them were open. They stood at attention for a moment at the entrance to the chamber and then turned in unison and exited.

"Onward," Marcus of Tyr called. "It appears our way is clear."

"Are you sure they are safe?" Fiddle asked. "The last construct I met was not very friendly."

"We will destroy them if not," Darian smiled. "Just don't play around with them afterwards."

Before the party had time to say or do much Marcus of Tyr cried out, "In Tyr's Name to me."

Arendel and the Bear were already in the next chamber. Alya, Darian, Fiddle, Sully, and Calrom had to run to catch up. Calrom soon outdistanced the pack.

"I'm weakened," Marcus of Tyr shouted again. "But I will not falter. Lathanderite, I could use your help."

By the time Fiddle got thru the first doors, Vaesillian had fallen. There was another chamber. The foes were the incorporeal undead. Spectres by the look of them. Calrom had his rapier out and was in melee.

Darian presented his symbol, "By the Light of Lathander, Be gone foul things."

Two of the spectres winked out of existence. A third fought with Marcus of Tyr. Fiddle couldn't get around the Bear nor the rest of the crowd blocking the door.

Darian entered the battle with his new mace. Whack. The spectre vanished.

"What the..." Fiddle tumbled into the room. He went to Vaesillian's side. She was dead.

Darian stood still. A look of complete joy had overcome him. Marcus of Tyr sprinkled his fallen comrade with holy water. He arranged her things as a show of honor and said a brief eulogy.

"I don't think we should go much further," Alya said. "Perhaps we should rest."

Fiddle searched around the room. He found a secret panel on the West wall. He slid it open and the wall moved. A corridor lay beyond his light. Calrom found some tracks. He and Fiddle scouted ahead. Mulebone, Marmaduke and Redd stayed behind. They followed the tracks into another chamber. The room had silver arches at the East and West. Fiddle checked them for magical traps. Nothing. The ceiling was vaulted and covered with artwork. Angels and metallic dragons. They followed the tracks out to the West. Fiddle found two doors. He
examined his map. He opened the door to the South. The one to the North was a bane door. The corridor had continued with the tracks.

"Where are you going?" Sully ran to catch up.

"It circles back to the pool door," Fiddle showed him.

The rest of the party caught up. Alya found a side chamber full of trash. She felt almost strangely comfortable inside.

"We have several options," Calrom stated. "We can follow the tracks.
We can stay here and rest. Or we can go back."

 

[diaglo]

Dragon talker...

"I cannot rest with so large a question as to where those tracks lead," Sully spoke up. "With the mind flayer and the other unwanted visitors about, I just would not sleep."

"Marcus of Tyr," Darian asked. "Do you feel up to the task? Perhaps you should guard the rear."

"I will continue if you will," Marcus of Tyr offered. But he clearly looked like he suffered from his injuries.

Fiddle led the way back into the corridor. It soon opened into a very large room. A large silver throne hovered mid air. It was built for a very large being, one not really humanoid in shape. The center of the room was the most interesting. It was smoky glass. As Fiddle got a closer look he saw a figure. A large snaky form with a long neck, four legs, and massive wings. A dragon. He did a little dance, made a little love, and got down that night.

"It is a good thing you are inside that glass," Fiddle taunted. "I, Fiddle Skipstone, Dragon slayer, would have shown you no mercy."

Fiddle prattled on and on. Finally the others came to investigate the ruckus. There were two doors in the immediate vicinity, one to the South and one to the West, plus a wide hall to the Northwest. Fiddle went to the West door. It was unlocked. Inside was a small chamber. A series of of circular plates made of gold, bronze, silver, iron, marble and wood decorated the west wall. There were 5 rows of each material in random order. Fiddle closed the door and played his hunch.

Just as he leapt to touch the last silver plate, Sully opened the door. A roar issued from the main room. A serpentine head broke the surface of where the glass once covered. The challenge was on....

Everyone was clearly shaken to their core. Arendel and the Bear fled the chamber. The dragon puffed up and exhaled. None in its path could withstand the blast. They all froze in place. Darian, Alya, Calrom, and Marcus of Tyr were helpless. Sully moved closed the door.

Fiddle strode forward. He opened the door and shouted in the language of the dragons.

"OH MIGHTY KING OF THE SILVER DRAGONS I HAVE SET YOU FREE FROM YOUR LONG SLUMBER."

Arendel did not return.

The Dragon paused, shook himself as if collecting a lost thought, and turned to Fiddle. "How long?"

"Thirteen hundred and forty one years since the Dread Lord Malkith fell," Fiddle replied. He droned on and on about everything and anything he could to bide time. It would be awhile before the others would return to their normal selves.

"I am Saggarintys, friend of Danar and former foe of Malkith. I tried to stop him and failed. I was imprisoned thus. And you are?"

"Fiddle Skipstone," Fiddle replied. "Dragonslayer..."

The dragon reared back and started to flick his tail.

"And these are my boon companions...The paladin Marcus of Tyr, The priest Darian of Lathander although he would be a priest of Amaniwater in your day, The elf druid Arendel, The kobold bard Alya, and the Ranger Calrom....and my ...

"Come out little gnome," Saggarintys called in Common.

"And I am Ozlo Sullygrub," Sully tried to lighten the moment. "You can call me Sully, like all my friends do."

The dragon stopped twitching.