PHDungeons Nentir Vale homebrew

[PHDungeon]

This is Smar's journal, also regarding game session #38

Spirits, is this truly what you sent me here to do? Last I spoke to you I spoke through writing. Now, I silently whisper to you as I rest after fighting against my own kind again. I whisper, and I pray for a response.

Spirits, you sent me to Ardyn. You told me where to travel after slaying the Jarl of Nenlaslt. There I found my blood-brother. Together we found the horn. I heard your praise when my blood mixed with his. I felt your favour. When he called to me with the horn, when he told me that we must stop the primordials from walking the Winterbole woods again, from wrecking havoc on the land, I knew that this was what you wanted of me.

But then I learned that one of my companions was a priest of Odin, and another a servant of the Lady of the Moon. Are these truly the companions you wish me to fight beside? But my blood-brother is here, so it must be so. We left the cavern with the spring and made our way through winding tunnels. We crossed giant caverns of poisonous mushroom spores, scaled steep cliffs, and found our way to the city of these one eyed giants. There, the woman with the sharp eye turned out to be a… a shapeshifting thing. I know not what to call it. It took my shape. It took the shape of hobgoblin. It shifted between man and woman. It is a strange creature indeed. Still, its ability to leap from disguise to disguise has proven useful in this underground city. Who am I to begrudge someone the ability to shift between shapes?

And now I have seen my first city! I have tried not to let my awe shame me, but these are not the log longhouses of Nenlaslt. Here, the buildings are made of the same stone as the caverns. It is like nothing I have seen before. But however amazing the craftsmanship, this place is broken, dirty, and wrong. The buildings look like they are falling to pieces. Are all cities so broken down? The people who populate its streets seem little better. Their spirits are trampled. I have seen the look in their eyes before. I have seen that look when a collar yet rested around my neck, and I stared at my reflection in still pools of water. Shifters walk these streets branded like dogs. I bear such a brand. I know how it chafes the soul. I wish the person who put that brand upon their skin dead.

We were going to try and sneak into another part of the city, but a creature that my companions called a “gnome” stopped us. It was short thing with pitch black eyes, pointed ears, and a long nose. It told us that it could help us, for a price. Ardyn seemed to think that accepting its offer was wise. It took us to the basement of an inn. There, three wolves rested with no collars about their necks. I spent some time getting to know them. They seemed quite happy. They seemed free. I think Ardyn made the right choice. In this den the gnome told us that it knew of “someone” that could help us, an “ally” of the king who dislikes its allegiance. This “someone” turned out to be a dragon. We met with it in a great cavern of shaped stone. I did not think stone could be so smooth. And the dragon, its head is almost as large as I am! It told us that it will give us the item we seek, if we kill the king of these lands.

Now, if this king is the one responsible for the brands on the skin of my pack-brothers, surly he deserves to die. But, something weighed heavy on my heart; when the shapeshifter and I traveled through the city we heard rumors that the king had sent his war-wolves to hunt us. Were these wolves free? If so, why did they hunt for someone willing to allow the primordials to destroy the land? Were they slaves? If so, how could I survive them without harming them? How could I free them? I did not come here to kill my own kin. I had thought I left that behind me long ago.

And then they attacked. They attacked us returning to the gnome’s den after speaking to the dragon. They were not just wolves, they were werewolves. They were like my father. They were direct blood-kin. I called to them. I told them we had no quarrel with them. But, they would not listen. They would not stop. They attacked us like we were prey. They called us their query. They were intent to kill me, and my blood brother. Indeed, my blood-brother nearly died. I wanted to make my way to him, to aid him, but I could not; I was trapped in melee with a werewolf unlike any I have seen before. He stood over ten feet tall. He seemed to be like a lord among my kin. Thankfully, the demon devotee of the Lady of the Moon managed to make his way to Ardyn and stop his bleeding. I know not what herbs he administered, but soon Ardyn was standing, on shaky legs, again. I do not know if these werewolves were slaves. I had no time to check if they had brands on their skin. I could find no way to survive them without harming them. At least two died under my axes. The lord may have fallen to the shapeshifters icy quarrel, but its flesh tasted deeply of my weapons before it fell. Is this what you sent me here to do? To kill my own kind? To become the Úlfrhundr again?

Now we rest. We have been chased into the gnomes den by tiny winged archers capable of hiding in empty air. They have not followed us into the building. It seems the werewolves killed everyone in the den, before attacking us in the alley, including the three wolves that lived here. How could they respect life so little that they felt free to mutilate our wolf-kin? Perhaps they were beaten, broken, forced into the service of this land’s king until they knew no better, like I was once forced to kill for the Jarl of Nenlaslt? Spirits, take their souls, put those souls to rest. May they find peace from the rage that boils in all our blood. Spirits, tell me what to do next. Spirits, show me the way to this land’s king that I may do to him as I did to the Jarl of Nenlaslt. I will show him just how much I appreciate being forced to kill my own kind again. I will make him pay for the lives of the wolves in this den, and the lives of each werewolf we were forced to slay, with his own flesh.

 

[PHDungeon]

Session #39

Party:

Bella, changeling rogue 16
Melek, tiefling wizard/warlock 16
Turak, minotaur warden 16
Smar, shifter ranger 16
Ardyn, elf ranger 16
Corvin, human cleric 16

Melek's journal:

After a brief rest and much divine healing from Corvin, we start to discuss our options. Clearly holing up here in the basement of this tavern isn’t much of a choice. Fleeing the city seems like the only practical alternative to me, but I'm having a little difficulty in convincing my companions of this. And even that alternative has issues with it.

We more or less have to assume that pixies will be watching our every move when we leave. Damned invisible little pests! I'm going to have to learn a way to deal with that issue.

As we are arguing, the door leading from the inn upstairs into the basement opens. Standing in the entrance is another gnome who immediately rushes over to the corpse of the bear and starts weeping into its fur, getting blood all over his face. His two hobgoblin guards watch on in bemusement, and are obviously fervently hoping that we don't decide to kill them all. I do feel sympathy for the poor little man, though. To lose a loved one always hurts. I remember that when I lost my pet cathshee I cried for days. Cathshee? When did I ever have any pet at all let alone something exotic like that?

This new gnome turns out to be Waylan, the owner of the bar and the brother of Neblin. Not at all unreasonably, Waylan is extremely upset at Neblin for bringing all of this trouble to his doorstep. It is a case of one sibling taking the aid and help of the other for granted and abusing the situation, just like occurs in so many of the best romances. I admit that I have some misgivings that I've been doing something similar with my sister Kallista. I've pressured her into accepting a role as the leader of the tiefling enclave that she may well be uncomfortable with, a role that could easily lead her into conflict with the Jarl that she would otherwise have escaped. I can tell myself that I'm doing it for the greater good and not just for personal gain. But while that is definitely true is it sufficient justification? Perhaps Neblin is also acting in what he thinks is the correct way for the long term. As virtually a slave here perhaps his mercenary ways are all that is keeping his family alive and well.

I think that I'll need to have a long talk with Kali when I get back. At any rate, I'll put aside the personal soul searching for now.

Waylan turns to us and tells us that he'll be able to hide us from the guards who are to be expected at any moment. While this seems doubtful to us, it’s definitely at least as good an option as any other we have. If it fails then we can start killing Cyclops at that point. If nothing else, hopefully the guard will be split up and we'll be able to deal with them a few at a time while fleeing the city. Thus, we follow Waylan up into the tavern’s kitchen area, and we are introduced to his absolutely terrified family. Terrified of us, terrified of turning us in, terrified of not turning us in. You've got to feel for the poor things.

It is then that we hear some Cyclopian guards coming into the common room demanding to see Waylan. Fortunately for us, the captain was either a complete moron or somebody who arrogantly believed that Waylan wouldn't dare to lie to him and conceal anybody. Maybe he got his position not for his merits but because he is somebody’s son. The captain was basically more or less believing Waylan as he professed total innocence and ignorance to any knowledge of the outlanders that had just slain Kregan in the alley beside his establishment. He stated that he knew nothing about the dead bodies in his basement (which the guards had presumably just discovered), and that he hadn't even been in the basement. The captain didn't even particularly mind all that much when Waylan changed his story given the bloody evidence on his face that he had actually been in the basement.

With everything that happened later I admit that some of the details are now getting blurred. I'm finding it hard to differentiate between what I dreamed and what actually happened. I believe that the captain and his troops then left and Waylan sent a runner to contact his brother. I'm almost certain that the fairly clear memory that I have of Waylan mooning the captain on the way out didn't really occur.

Before Neblin could return the captain came back and started to again interrogate Waylan. It seems he wasn’t fully satisfied with Waylan’s previous answers. This time the Cyclops used techniques that would surely quickly either cause Waylan to reveal our presence or to die (stepping on his head for example). Belladonna came to the rescue. She turned into a lowlife hobgoblin servant and left the inn under the noses of the guards placed outside the backdoor. She then went around to the front, disguising herself as a hobgoblin guard along the way. In the guise of a warrior, Bella then claimed that we'd been sighted at the far end of the festering cesspool that is this ward of the city and that he'd been sent to fetch reinforcements.

This subterfuge was successful and the guards all hastened off to find us. I'm sure Belladonna later somewhat exaggerated her story of how brilliant an actor she was (who wouldn't?) but the basic details of her leading them away and then separating from them were doubtless true. Full marks to her for her ingenuity

Meanwhile, back at the inn, we waited for Neblin. He arrived in short order and said that we should all go to another safe house that he has, the home of a former girl friend. I admit that Neblin doesn't strike one as the sort who would have ex amours who would think highly of him, but perhaps gnomes have different standards and attitudes in such things than do Tieflings. We all head off with the gnome, including Waylan and his family. I've advised them all to leave the city at once since not even the dumbest Cyclops is going to remain fooled forever and eventually they're going to bring them all in and torture and kill them on general principles if for no other reason.

We hasten off to his ex’s house and, amazingly, she does indeed let us in, admittedly after Neblin wheedles her a little and bribes her a little with gold. We relax, hoping that we'll be able to spend some considerable time here. Meanwhile, Neblin leaves us again to go attempt to secure a means for us to leave this part of the city.

While we try to rest, we learn that his ex is a pastry chef of some repute. Turak finds her blueberry pies the best thing that he has ever tasted. I admit that they're not at all bad, quite superior to the normal dreck that humans make, but they're still not a patch on the wonderful Mangosteen tortes that I had in Mithrendain.

While we wait for Neblin’s return Belladonna shows up, having been directed here by an associate of Neblin’s. Neblin also returns soon after, informing us that he is making arrangements for us to go to the house of one Dregas, an ally of Sethrak who lives in the high class part of the city.

However, our rest is interrupted by the sounding of a proclamation from out in the street. Everybody is to return to their homes as a house to house search is being instigated for Ours Truly. We clearly have to leave right away. Neblin tells us that if we go into the aquifer tunnels beneath the quarter we'll be able to make it to the house of Dregas. Of course, we'll have to face the hordes of undead down there since we don't have time to make it to the "safe route". Apparently the undead have been placed there by King Bronnor’s advisor Kaleestra, as a means of deterring smugglers from using the tunnels.

We head down into the depths below the city. We are harassed by small clumps of ghouls and the like, but they're really not a significant threat. Well, not at first. Just before we make it out of the dangerous area of the tunnels we emerge into a huge cavern with some fascinating symbols enscribed on the floor. They are runes that act to keep Purple Worms at bay. We really should remember to destroy them on the way out.

However, at this point a large force of ghouls attacks us. They'd been gradually amassing themselves in the darkness. What feels like hundreds of them but were more likely only dozens hurls themselves at us from the multitude of passages leading into the cavern. I retreat behind a swift flowing stream and barely manage to leap across the stream successfully. As has occurred so often recently, my tendency to avoid physical pursuits has nearly been my downfall. Unfortunately, before my companions can join me, they are beset by the ghouls, and several of our number are paralyzed. Once again I find myself acting as a hero, and I use my arcane prowess to switch places with Ardyn as he is being grappled by a Cyclopean ghoul and only inches from going unconscious. There seems something ironic about the lowly wizard stepping in to save the mighty ranger.

While most of my companions are adept at taking out large number of enemies it is my spells that are largely responsible for sweeping the battlefield clear of the riff raff so that we can concentrate on the several Cyclopean undead. Strangely, some of the undead actually have a sense of self-preservation and flee into the tunnels rather then being completely destroyed by us. The hardest part of the fight is probably keeping Neblin alive.

After the battle we conversed amongst ourselves in Giantish as to what to do. I'm sure that I'm misremembering that I was so incredibly stupid as to mention in the hearing of Neblin that we should wait for the morning before trying to cast a Hand of Fate ritual to see if Sethrak is intending to betray us.

There was a barred iron gate that sealed the ghoul tunnels from the tunnels beneath the King’s Ward. Bella used her ability to alter her form to contort herself enough that she could slip through the bars of the gate Bella and then pick the massive padlock hanging off of it. Neblin led us through the safer tunnels beneath the King’s Ward, until we were beneath Drega’s villa. We thought about camping down below, but it was decided that even the safe areas had their dangers and it would be better to avail ourselves to the help of Dregas. Nobody seemed overwhelmingly surprised to see us emerging from the well in the middle of Drega’s villa, and we were soon in the hall of Dregas.

Dregas turns out to be, even by Cyclopean standards, a fairly foul and odious piece of work. He is a mercenary slaver, a traitor to his king, and not above trying to wrest a few gold pieces from us despite the fact that we are working for an ally of his and presumably his position will increase greatly should Sethrak succeed in his plot.

In exchange for some money, Dregas revealed that a group of Drow elves had recently arrived at the city and were negotiating with King Bronnor to purchase an item that we guess to be the part of the Divine Engine that we're seeking. My visceral reaction to the fact that Dregas had sold them some eladrin as playthings surprised me. While any decent person would not like this it felt more like my own kindred had been betrayed. Dregas also told us where the drow were staying within the city.

Finally, we retired for the night and for what should have been a good night’s sleep. Unfortunately, my sleep was anything but calm. Quite honestly, I think that I may be going totally insane.

In retrospect, I think that all of my dreams since we came to the Feywild have been disturbed and similar to last night’s. It is just that last night’s was the first one that I remember. Not completely nor vividly, but I've definitely got impressions. Impressions and memories as if seen through a fog.

I was dreaming the life of somebody else. I am sure that I was an Eladrin or maybe a half eladrin. Do such things even exist here in the Feywild? It seems likely that they do. If elves and humans can breed true, I see little reason that Eladrin and humans cannot.

Can Tieflings interbreed with Eladrin? Perhaps I'm accessing the memory of an ancestor. Or, if what the southerners believe is correct, perhaps one has been reincarnated as me. Or maybe it is some gift of the Maiden of the Moon. Or perhaps my travails have finally caught up with me and I'm just going mad. It’s exceedingly scary that the last alternative is almost the most attractive.

At any rate, I was leading a very different life. I think that I was a bard. A sword wielding bard- a great hero, a great adventurer, but one with a certain joie de vivre that I admit that I've been lacking. I greatly envy that bard of my dreams. He was sure of his place in the world, happy in what he was doing. He knew that he was leading a very dangerous life, but he didn't care because he knew that he was making a difference in this life and would be rewarded in the next. And not rewarded by an eternal life of battle and the hollow joys of wenching and endless mead and beer. His life was so much richer than mine in so many ways. He was good at so many disparate things- mental, physical, and social. While perhaps not a master at all of them he was certainly well above journeyman in all.

After I woke up I felt strangely different. I almost feel like I can access some of the memories and some of his skills.

But my own memories have also become blurry. At the moment I can't always tell which are my real memories and which are the memories from my dreams.

And there is another side to this. In the morning, as planned I cast a Hand of Fate ritual in order to determine what we should do. Although it succeeded it felt a lot harder to get an answer than it normally does. And I somehow sensed disappointment on the other side.

One thing that is unequivocably true is that the Maiden of the Moon granted me a boon in my sleep. I remember her appearing to me in my dreams just before waking, and giving me a kiss on the forehead. I can still feel the power from her kiss, and I believe it may stay with me. Even more interesting is the fact that Odin did not grant me such a boon but instead chose to grant a boon to Bella of all people.

I don't understand it at all but I'm absolutely certain that very soon I am going to have to make a major personal decision, one that will affect my very soul.

After waking up, I cast a divination ritual, and I learned that the dragon is planning to betray us after we slay the King. More importantly, I discovered that the drow elves have the fragment of the Divine Engine. And they have already left the city.

We take our leave of Dregas and descend back into the depths. There we put our sword to Neblin's throat and tell him that he has one chance to live. If he helps us and does not attempt to betray us in any way we will let him live. He can choose to accompany us when we leave the city or stay here. Since his desire to live outweighs his desire to serve Sethrak, he quickly agrees to our terms. He proceeds to again cast his disguising ritual on us and we then head into the city to where the Drow were staying. Perhaps there we can find some clue as to where they came from.

It is both hilarious and disturbing to see Turak, in the illusionary guise of a teenage Cyclops girl, petting Neblin who appears to be a dog. Poor Neblin doesn't seem too impressed but he isn't complaining.

We quickly and quietly arrive at the stone guest house that had been housing the drow entourage. We find it to be guarded by a couple of Cyclops guards. Heading around the back we see a Cyclops maid disposing of an eladrin body as if it were garbage. After she steps back inside, Smar sneaks up to retrieve the body and overhears a conversation through the partially open door. We learn that there is an eladrin inside that is still clinging to life.

I voice the opinion that we have to save that Eladrin since she might have valuable information, and that rationale carries the day. In actuality my primary goal is merely to save her if she can indeed be saved. After all, she is my distant kin.

Smar proceeds to brutally dispatch the maid. I can't say that I disapprove of the action in any way. As far as I'm concerned all the inhabitants of this city deserve to die. Well, all of those who more or less voluntarily live here anyway. We very quickly dispatch the two Cyclops guards inside, and then we rapidly bar the doors to keep any remaining Cyclops at bay. Inside we find the evidence of a linked portal ritual having been used in one room, presumably by the drow to leave the city, but Bella is not able to recreate the destination.

Corvin heals the Eladrin survivor. She is a noble from the city of Celduloin, fortunately she knows enough to inform Bella how to scribe a portal to the teleportation gate there. Bella quickly scribes the portal with my assistance. Before we leave, we leave a couple of letters addressed to King Bronor informing him how Sethrak had plotted his demise with the aid of Dregas. We provide enough details to be moderately convincing. Hopefully the fact that we got as far as we could and knew as much about his defences as we did will lend credence to our story. I doubt that we'll actually manage to start a civil war but perhaps we'll be lucky.

We managed to open the portal before enough guards arrived to give us difficulty, and we left Harrowthane behind. It seems that this mission has been a failure, for our enemies have claimed another piece of the divine engine. Hopefully, this eladrin maiden we have rescued will be able to tell us something useful about the drow.

 

[PHDungeon]

Session #40

PCs

Melek (level 16,Tiefling, hybrid warlock/wizard)
Bella (level 17, Changeling rogue with a touch of sorcerer)
Turak (level 16, Minotaur, Warden)
Ardyn (level 16, Elf, Ranger)
Smar (level 16, Shifter, Ranger)
Corvin (level 16, Human, Cleric) this session Corvin is retired to be replaced with:
Harbek (level 16, Dwarf, Runepriest)


Melek's Journal:

We arrive more or less where we expected, in a teleportation circle in Celduloin, the Eladrin city near to where we first entered the Fey Wild.

It turns out the circle is in the garden of the Eladrin noble family that Malena belongs to. While the situation is slightly tense at first things quickly calm down as they realize that we are not responsible for Malena’s condition but in fact have rescued her from a foul fate.

We are led to Lady Arethmere, the matriarch of the family. I'm quickly reminded how much I despise some of our aristocratic families for their boundless arrogance and their conviction that they are better than anybody else. Wait, what am I saying? I'm NOT an Eladrin. I don't even speak their language. I'm a tiefling.

The oh so elegant Lady Arethmere almost chokes on the thanks that she, perforce, has to give us as she extends the poorest possible hospitality consistent with her honour. Or lack thereof. To add insult to injury she even explicitly orders us to remain in her house. As if we didn't already get the hint. Well, all of us except possibly Turak and Smar and maybe Ardyn. Ok, maybe the explicit statement was justified after all.

At least she seems an equal opportunity bigot. She doesn't even take to Ardyn, and he’s an elf. She insists that I clean up despite the fact that my clothes and body is spotless due to my magics. And she has nothing but contempt for Turak and Smar.

The hospitality so begrudgingly given was at least adequate. But they were definitely giving us their poor vintages at dinner, a dinner that we ate alone.

Later in that evening, after she has recovered somewhat from her ordeal, we talk to Malena. She can give us only a little bit of information. The female leader of the Drow is called Xune, her second in command is a male called Elkantar. Apparently they work for a Lord and not the expected female leader. Furthermore, Malena overheard a comment to the effect of, "We have to remember to follow our instructions to inscribe the symbol of the King Who Crawls on their chests", referring to the symbols of Torog we found carved into the flesh of the eldarin captives, including Melana. While certainly not conclusive that would seem to imply that the inscription was intended as a ruse to misdirect us (or others).

But other than that we have nothing to go on. We do not know where the drow are to be found.

That night the dreams again come to me. In one of them, the Maiden appears to me. She promises to protect and to help me if I serve her above all others. I don't remember making any agreements but I do remember her kissing me on the forehead and my feeling a massive surge of fey power in me. I'm not sure what was going to happen because suddenly I am wakened by the sound of crashing coming from Bella’s room. Most of us go to investigate and find that Bella seems to be having some form of fit. She is crying out and saying something about a dream. Perhaps I'm not the only one who is being driven insane by the Feywild. If that is, indeed, what is happening to me.

She insists that we go conduct an experiment our on the grounds even though it is the middle of the night. This is much to the displeasure of the household guards, but they don’t interfere. She asks Ardyn to leap as high as he can. Ardyn obliges her, and at the same time, Bella’s makes a motion with one hand and mutters a few arcane words. He soars far into the air; much farther than he could jump on his own. Being the athletic sort that he is he takes no damage from the sudden fall. As Ardyn lands, Corvin mutters, "That is what you get for trusting a thief".

It would appear that Bella has a newfound power. Interesting. I wonder if she also had a visitation in the night. Or if it is something rather more mundane and she has just advanced in power in the usual way.

In the morning, I cast Hand of Fate to try and determine where best to go next, but I get a very, very strange response. No information at all is revealed. I feel that I managed to contact Odin, but he just didn't want to respond. I wonder if that has anything to do with how quiet and peevish Corvin has been. He is obviously displeased with what we have managed to accomplish, but I get the impression that there is more to it than that.

Exceedingly eager to get rid of us, Lady Arethmere has managed to obtain a Scroll of Planar Portal, and she "subtly" indicates that she thinks that we should leave. Now. Or spend a month in the swamp waiting for the moon gate to open. We decide that it is time to return home so we use the scroll to portal back to Grimmsburg.


Back in Grimmsburg things are more or less as we left them except for a massive rainstorm. It looks like Odin (or perhaps Thor) is rather upset.

The news is fairly dire. Apparently Cannon Wulgrin has had a visitation from Odin and the fragment of the Divine Engine that was kept in Odin’s vault in Valhalla has also been stolen, hence the storm outside. I think it is safe to assume that our enemies are now in possession of three of the five pieces of the divine engine.

We fill in the Jarl and his inner council on what has occurred. Although it isn't likely to lead anywhere in particular various scribes start searching for the names of the drow in the records. Perhaps we'll get lucky. There is also ongoing research being conducted by Dean Danzig of the Scarlet Stone Academy that may possibly be lead somewhere. Apparently he’s close to discovering the location of one of the fragments, the one said to be located in the Shadowfell. The hope is that there will be more information in the library at Hammerfest.

We then all go our own ways for a couple of weeks. I head off to my village only to discover that the people in Grimmsburg refer to it as “Deviltown.” I admit that I kind of like that name. It has a certain ring to it.

Unfortunately, I also get disturbing news there. My sister Kallista is very unhappy with her position in charge there. She doesn't want the responsibility. She is a bard and being stuck in one place administering a fledgling settlement does not suite her. Also, as a human in whom the curse has never revealed itself she is resented by many of the tieflings there.

I'm honestly not sure how I'd have reacted even a few days ago, but now my response is immediate and crystal clear. I release her from her promise. I had no right to put her into that position.

The other news is also somewhat disturbing, as is my incredibly strong reaction to it. My father Ammon and my brother Leucis have been over at the village and are trying to get the inhabitants to start following their foolish dream to raise the fallen empire of Bhal Turath. I can't allow that. The goal of the village is to transform the tieflings both spiritually and physically. Oh, that goal is as distant and difficult as is the rebirth of Bhal Turath. But, if it is to have any chance at all, they must distance themselves from the dreams of the glory of yesteryear. They must look forward and not backwards.

I have to confront my father. I have to force him to leave my village alone. But how can I do that? Since my earliest days it has been drilled into me that I am of House Zolfura and that I must obey the head of the House (my father). To openly oppose my father is to give up my heritage, to disinherit myself. And it is a heritage that I have been proud of. Certainly my ancestors have done many awful things, but they have also done many things to be proud of, and they are my blood.

Even as little as a fortnight ago I'm not sure that I'd have had the strength to turn my back on my heritage. But I find, to my considerable surprise, that the decision is now an easy one.

I'm not really sure what has changed. Perhaps it is just my adventures. But I think that it is mostly the dreams. More and more of his life is coming through. I now have a name. Allain. And he was a half elf. Well, half eladrin I suppose.

He was a commoner, an outcast from eladrin society. And he transcended that. He took up service with the Maiden of the Moon. He lived a full and happy life. And he also accomplished great things. He knew what was important, and it certainly wasn't social posturing.

Perhaps it was Lady Arethmere that also helped to open my eyes. She is so like my father in so many ways. So like the way that I used to be. More concerned with power, reputation and family than anything else.

I go and lay down the law to my father. He and Leucis are to stay away from Deviltown, they are to leave the inhabitants alone. If they do not, then I will inform the Jarl about their illicit business dealings. If they try and have me killed or assassinated I will take whatever measures I need to in order to protect myself.

By these actions I have forfeited my right to be heir to House Zolfura. I am no longer of high birth. I am now a nobody, of no family and so much the better for it.

As if one crisis of the soul was insufficient, I have two more. I go to Canon Wulgrim to discuss how my connection to Odin seems weaker than it was, how the Hand of Fate ritual is now difficult to cast and far less revealing. He explains to me that what I've been fearing is, in fact, true. Since my trip to the Feywild, the Maiden of the Moon has altered my very soul. She has put a claim upon my soul, and this is greatly interfering with the fragment of Odin that I somehow obtained during my days at Thunderholme Abbey.

I cannot serve two masters. It is not clear whether I even have a choice in the matter. But, if I do have a choice, I realize that I'd choose the Maiden. The life that she has shown me (assuming that I'm not just going crazy) is better than the one that I had. I've never been completely happy with the Skanzi goal of going to Valhalla for an eternity of endless fornication and cheap mead. And the one thing that I desperately want to lose, that I need to lose, is the constant sense of anger, the constant bloodlust. Odin inspires one to anger and to bloodlust; he doesn't help one to counter that. I still worship and serve Odin, but I no longer possess a piece of his divine energy.

Since I made that decision I've found that my anger is slowly decreasing. Not, at least yet, hugely. But it is diminishing. And since I've made my decision I've noticed my connection to the Feywild has been strengthening. I can almost shift through it, as does an eladrin. Not quite, but it’s close.

I've chosen to fully adopt the way of the Skald. Between what I can gather from dreams and what I can learn from Kali, I've managed to pick up a whole smattering of knowledge, including a few new Rituals. I've been training constantly these last few weeks. I was always reasonably good with the flute but now I've learned how to sing at least a little and gained the basics of various other instruments.

I've been practicing my physical skills as well. It’s amazing how quickly and easily I've been picking up things. It’s as if I'm remembering things as opposed to learning them for the first time.

And so several weeks passed. I've managed to replace Kali with a new tiefling mayor, Kairon by name. He isn't the most charming of people but he is a hard worker and a good administrator and is more than capable of knocking some heads together when required since he has seen considerable service as a mercenary. At least as importantly, he is a man of no pretensions and he shares my dream of a community where tieflings can grow up amongst their own kind.

Over the past several days, I've heard from Corvin that he is most unhappy with our lack of progress, and that he plans to pursue his own interests and no longer quest with us for the Divine Engine.

Finally after about three weeks of much needed downtime, we were called to a meeting with the Jarl. Harbek, a dwarven emissary from Hammerfest had come to Grimmsburg with bad news, especially for Turak. Recently there have been many raids on caravans going to or from Hammerfest, and it would appear that the Golden Horn Clan is responsible for the attacks. Harbeck had been sent to ask the Jarl for help investigating what has transpired that would cause the formerly peaceful minotaurs to turn to evil and lawlessness.

Turak is, of course, flabbergasted by this and wants to find out what is happening. The rest of us (well, except for Corvin) agree to accompany him.

________________________________________________________________

We head off by portal to Nimorzan’s Tower in Fallcrest where we have a rather amusing interlude with his apprentice Lazlo, a quite foolish Halfling wizard who has finally mastered the magic missile spell. He insists on demonstrating his skills, and takes us to the top of the tower. By this time night has fallen, and the little Halfling proceeds to shoot several magic missiles off into the darkness. I do the obvious, and I use my Ghost Sound cantrip to start having the darkness scream in agony as the missiles attack it. Yes, I'm certainly getting a lot more enjoyment out of life than I used to.

The next day we ascend to the skies on the backs of Giant Eagles. As always, Turak thoroughly hates the entire process while I am still exhilarated by the whole thing. We are following the caravan route to Hammerfest when we spy below us what appears to be the ruins of a caravan with several minotaurs looting it.

We land to investigate.

There are only a handful of Minotaurs and Turak definitely recognizes them as embers of his clan. But accompanying the minotaurs are several demons. Some appear to be similar to orcs and I recognize them as Tanaruk, several are nasty little carnage demons, and their leader is a large demonic minotaur with blazing red eyes and steam blasting from his nostrils. It’s not a minotaur that Turak recognizes.

Turak attempts to reason with the minotaurs but, judging from the fact that the demons all charge us, I think that we have to consider this attempt at diplomacy a failure.

Harbek, a RunePriest of Odin, is quite a competent fighter. He uses Runes to create magical effects. The most interesting by far is an effect that stops enemies dead in their tracks as they get close to the source of the blazing rune. It only affects the enemies when they first enter into the zone. But when that is combined with a hypnotic pattern drawing the enemies back out of the zone the effect is considerable, and quite amusing to boot.

At least partially because I couldn't resist showing off, I summoned a plague of carnivorous hopping frogs to great effect. Admittedly, given that most of the demons were unable to move, it was hardly sporting. But I can control the frogs and stop them from actually killing anybody that I didn't want dead.

So, the net result was a fairly short and one-sided fight, that resulted in lots of dead demons and several unconscious but basically unharmed minotaurs. Well, unharmed until Turak got through with them, as the rest of us agreed with my suggestion to allow him to decide what to do with the prisoners.

He first questioned his kin, determining the obvious. The Minotaurs have turned away from the spirits and are now worshipping Baphomet. We also find out that the instigator of this was the shaman of the clan, somebody who Turak knew and used to respect. After first humiliating the prisoners by showing that he is far stronger and more powerful than any of them, he then decides that a fitting punishment would be to remove one horn from each of them. Apparently for Minotaurs this is a massive disgrace, and I expect quite painful too.

We then release the minotaurs and remount the eagles to head off to his clan’s labyrinth. While the Minotaurs will doubtless also head back to the clan, we'll be there long before them and so will be able to attack with the advantage of surprise.

 

[PHDungeon]

Bella's journal


Session 40: I’m just a Girl

The tunnel shakes, collapsing around us as we run hand in hand for our lives. The cleric runs with easy strides that I am envious of him as he pulls me ahead and away from danger. The hand that grips mine is strong, and he does not look at me while he runs, always looking ahead with grim determination and never giving up. He is a far more noble soul then I could ever hope to be and looking at him now in this dire situation I find hope where I normally would see none. If I were alone, as I normally would be, I would just give up and die but with Bjorn at my side I feel that he will somehow find a way to save us, as he always has.

The ground heaves suddenly beneath our feet and Bjorn falls to the ground as I am thrown forward. Looking back I see him sliding into the dark recess of the tunnel as if being pulled by some unseen force. His fingers dig into the dirt and he screams my name desperately. I can hear whispers in the dark, malicious and horrible, barely understood but clear in intent. They laugh gleefully and lament on the tortures they will visit upon their victim as he is dragged nearer and nearer. If the clerics body reaches the dark abyss he will suffer for all eternity and never return.

I stand and take a step forward toward my friend when the ground yawns open at my feet and I am separated from Bjorn by a huge chasm. The smell of the grave rises up from the inky void and I am terrified knowing I am incapable of such a leap. I look out across the pit and see Bjorn’s legs being pulled into the shadow at the back of the tunnel and I hear the voices trill in triumph. His eyes are wide with terror and I hear the sound of claws rending clothing and then flesh. His scream of torment rings in my ears and reaches into my soul. His tear filled gaze meets mine, pleading with me to save him.

Steeling myself and seeing no other choice I leap from the precipice with all my meager strength into the air….

And hit the wall.

Ouch.

I feel a cold floor underneath me and have a sharp pain along the length of my body that brings me quickly to my senses. I raise my sweat-covered head and look around. My memories are slow in arriving, but as my nightmare retreats from my conscious mind I can recall my surroundings and I pull myself up. I am in one of the guest quarters of an Eladrin noble family’s household.

Unconsciously my armor had reverted to its true form instead of the nightgown I make it become when sleeping. Thankfully the leather had absorbed the brunt of the impact when I hit the wall. I look over my shoulder and find my bed several feet away.

Now how did that happen?

I step back to my bed across the room. I hear Melech and Ardyn come to my door to see if I’m all right. Apparently I had screamed upon waking. I frown and chastise myself for being careless. A changeling’s safety lies in….

I stop, realizing that I had just taken a single step to cross my room.

Turning to the door I lift off the ground and glide gracefully to it, silver winds manifesting around me and lifting me into the air. Unlocking my chamber I walk into the hallway.

“Sorry, Ardyn. Melech. I just had a bad dream, nothing to worry about.”

Both my companions regard me with concern, not for my well being I realize, but for my sanity. They had heard my body strike the wall and knowing I was alone can only guess what I was up to.

I can feel the Mark filling my head with the knowledge of how to use my new ability, the information settles in until it is indistinguishable from my own memories. I now know how to use my new ability as if I had always known. The power is one of my sorceress abilities and is not from the Mark like my command of languages and rituals. The Mark however contains much arcane knowledge and can teach me things in moments what most people take years to learn. As time passes and it becomes more powerful it is getting increasingly difficult to tell which knowledge is mine and which is the Marks. I clutch my head in a fleeting concern over the loss of my sense of self.

Taking a deep breath I look into my friends eyes and am brought back to the present.

“Actually, I could use your help Ardyn. It seems I have acquired a new ability and I think it can benefit more than just me. I would have preferred Turak’s help but you cannot wake up that cow until he’s ready to wake up. If you want to assist follow me outside.”

The elf and teifling are suspicious but follow me outside anyway. I lead Ardyn to the center of a small courtyard under the stars while Melech leans against a wall and watches.

I step back and focus my mind, I feel the silver wind surround me blowing at my hair and whispering in my ears like half forgotten demons. I send it forward and it surrounds the elf. He stands there, uncertain what to do.

“Jump as high as you can”, I command.

To his credit he does not hesitate and is carried by the wind about forty feet into the air. To be honest he could have guided his flight. When I share this ability it is the other persons will that commands the winds not mine. Perhaps it was the lateness of the hour or the elf trusted me so much that he did not think. The magic wears off and he falls. Being an elf, however, he gracefully lands on the ground.

“That’s what you get for trusting her,” Corvin brazenly whispers and returns inside.

“Sorry”, I apologize, “New ability. Thank-you.”

The elf neither looks offended or impressed. We return to our rooms shortly after.



Afterwards the heroes return to Grimsburg and Bella is able to work in her workshop on a couple of new magic items.



Completing the enchantment over the gloves I watch with a smile of satisfaction as the arcane aura that surrounds them fades to nothing. My breath is quick not just with excitement but also from exertion. My arcane powers have never come easily to me but they have increased. I have decided that it was time to re-cast the aura mask on my equipment, but I can only do one piece of equipment a day. As such, a process that would have been a trifle for Melech and taken an afternoon, I have needed a week and exhausted myself after each casting.

My work now complete I take my trusty Endless Quiver and my precious crossbow from my workbench and within seconds they disappear from my hands. I can still feel them at the tip of my fingers ready to be called back at my whim. I examine my hands critically, using my arcane sight. I fail to see a magical aura. It worked. I release a breath I didn’t realized I was holding.

Standing I walk over to my full-length mirror willing my armor to change from normal clothes to a ball gown. The white gloves are made with a sturdy but luxurious material that matches the gown beautifully. With a deft hand I begin putting up my hair and look at myself critically in the mirror. Again I focus my arcane sight. The dress, though enchanting, does not appear enchanted. I focus on my neck. I had been able apply the magic for a cloak of distortion onto a lovely silver necklace that shimmers with precious stones. I am pleased to note that it also appears mundane. Raising my sleeve I subjected the decorative metal armband I find there to the same inspection and with the same result.

I see myself looking smug in the mirror. I appear to be some rich tart ready to go to the ball and snag some handsome prince. Someone that anyone would look at, and if they didn’t know me, would think the most dangerous thing I could do is break hearts. Smiling to myself in the mirror I unleash the enchantment of my items and in seconds I am in my armor with my quiver over my shoulder and my bow ready. Belladonna Nightshade is my chosen name. It is a lovely and innocent looking flower that can be made into deadly poison. With every passing day it is becoming more appropriate.

 

[PHDungeon]

Here are two journals from Smar's POV regarding the last couple of sessions.

The spirits weave strange wills. I once told myself that I could control my bloodlust. I once told myself that I would never hurt an innocent. I am not sure if I followed those rules today. My pack’s plan was good. We would head to the house where the drow had stayed, find out where they went, track them down, and retrieve the magic item that could stop the end of the natural world. The spirits should have been proud. Like most hunts, this one turned to chaos the moment our paws took us in the direction of our query.

A one eyed giant exited the building right as I picked up an elf’s body out of the trash. I don’t think I ever expected to find myself in that situation, but one of my pack can speak with the dead. The plan made sense at the time. I tried to pretend to be a beggar; a dog looking for scraps to eat. I don’t make a good dog anymore. The maid saw my fangs, my axes, and started to back away. If she raised an alarm my pack would have become the hunted. She was helping clear a house of a brutal murder, a brutal murder that her people condoned. I had no time to think. I acted. My axe sprung to my hands and cut her throat before I had time to consider the full ramifications of my actions. Was this my bloodlust coming to the surface? She had no weapons. Can I honestly say that she was any guiltier of brutality than me? But it was too late.

When my pack heard the voice of a living elf in the house we sprang to action again. I allowed the wolf to take my flesh. I became the spirit of the hunter. In the house my teeth, my axes, were a blur. The warriors died well. But, another maid ran to open the front door. This would have allowed more guards to pour into the house. It was too late again. I climbed up her back from behind, using one axe to hoist myself up the flesh of her back, and the other to open her jugular. Who was the monster in this story, the one eyed giants, or me?

In any case, we saved the elf. She knew the pattern for a teleportation circle. My shape shifting pack mate used it to take us into the halls of the Eladrin. Eladrin who worshiped the Lady of the Moon. The very same Lady of the Moon responsible for the butchery of my people. If the spirits considered my actions in this city under the earth to be reprehensible, I was about to give them the chance to see to my execution.


The spirits were not offended enough to call for my life. The Eladrin were rude. Of course, I expected no better from a follower of the Lady of the Moon (odd to think that one such has become a packmate—ah well, I suppose necessity makes strange burrow mates). Then again, these Eladrin treated Melek little better, despite their common patron. It seems that they mistreat everyone who is not Eladrin. Still, they gave us a place to stay, and the means by which to return to the forests, hills, and plains, that me and my pack calls home. If they tore up our means of returning to their ‘fair’ city, what is it to me? I would never willingly return to this cesspit of meat, unfit even to be prey, anyways.

In Grimmsburg luck favoured my pack. The Odin worshiper who kept calling me ‘dog’ left. I cannot be more thankful. I was starting to consider killing him in his sleep. If I did it during my watch, I might have been able to eat the body before my companions awoke. I jest, of course. But his choice to leave us has left me howling at the moon in glee. Of course, it would be nice if we were not promptly joined by another of his Aesir worshiping kin, but at least this one is not a Skanzi. A dwarf rune priest of Odin has taken the Skanzi’s place. Hopefully this one will not show quite as much disdain for my brethren. Hopefully I will be able to avoid showing this one quite as much disdain for his choice of pantheon.

Soon enough my pack hears of another track in our hunt. It seems that the tribe of man-bulls from which Turak hails has been attacking the dwarfs of Hammerfast. Our pack quickly jumped onto eagles called forth by Melek and went to investigate. I feel for Turak. A brief encounter with a group of his tribe made it quite clear that they have been corrupted. I know what it is like to lose one’s people to their bloodlust. Killing my kin in the city of the one eyed giants felt like I was cutting my own flesh. Still, they were lost to their own insanity. They left me no choice. Now, it seems, Turak’s people are leaving him as few options.

 

[PHDungeon]

Session #41

DMs Note: This was by far the most deadly session we've had thus far in the campaign. The session consisted of three character deaths and one petrification. Nasty.

PCs
Melek (level 16,Tiefling, hybrid warlock/wizard)
Bella (level 17, Changeling rogue with a touch of sorcerer)
Turak (level 16, Minotaur, Warden)
Ardyn (level 16, Elf, Ranger)
Smar (level 16, Shifter, Ranger)
Harbek (level 16, Dwarf, Runepriest)

Melek's Journal:

As we fly towards the minotaur home we discuss our options. According to Turak there are 2 entrances into the inner sanctum of the labyrinth where he expects Oostarix the shaman will likely be found. One of them is the main entrance and is well guarded by warriors. The other is a secret entrance that leads to the cow chambers and hence to the sanctum. Although not guarded by warriors it is well guarded by traps.

Having perhaps grown a little wiser since our frontal assault on Harrowthane we decide that we should take the unguarded route. We land outside the doorway without incident.

As Smar, Bella and Ardyn argue over who is the best at detecting and disarming traps and hence should have the honour of leading our foray, Turak gets even more impatient than is his norm and pushes his way past the three of them and strides boldly into the Labyrinth. The rest of us follow, Ardyn kindly agreeing to be the rearguard.

As we enter we are all assaulted by a psychic impression of pure and unadulterated evil. We all get even more testy than usual. The rage that I had thought was almost under control is seething within me. I thrust it down but really, really hope that it will not rise up and consume me.

We proceed quickly into the maze. Turak never hesitates at any junction but just strides forward. Either he was extremely promiscuous as a wee lad or something is giving him more information than he should have. As he rounds one corner he suddenly gives a bellow of rage and charges. Smar then heads up to the corner and also quickly rushes down the corridor, as does Harbek. Bella is a little more cautious and she just peeks around the corner but is also affected. I am the only one who uses a modicum of intelligence, and I put a mirror out into the corridor with a mage hand and study the scene through its image.

The corridor goes a few dozen feet. At the end is some foul altar constructed of various animal carcasses. As I watch, Turak charges to the altar, barely avoiding falling into a pit trap in the process. He then smacks at it, damaging it slightly. Bella shoots Turak in the back. Smar races forward as does Harbek. All is confusion and noise. I'm not actually sure who did what but suddenly there was a loud explosion as the altar blew up. In the aftermath, with my ears ringing, all that I could hear was Smar telling Turak to NOT attack altars and Bella muttering something about "But I had to shoot Turak, it was the only way to slow him down".

Turak is very eager to move forward. Very, very eager. He is obviously being even more influenced by this foul place than are the rest of us. I am able to use my arcane magics to somewhat reduce the vile influence on him while Bella manages to convince him that a short rest would be best for all of us. While he is nearly pawing the ground in his frustration and annoyance he concedes the point and lets us rest a few minutes to regain our strength.

A close examination of the remnants of the altar revealed that it had parts of various animals, including a Unicorn. It looks very much like a foul ritual had been performed here, a ritual that takes the still beating heart of a magical animal and imbues the eater of the heart with supernatural abilities related to the slain creature. The horn has doubtless become some form of magical weapon.

We then proceed deeper into the fortress. As before, Turak is in the lead almost running in his impatience to arrive at our destination. We enter a huge chamber. It consists of a chasm hundreds of feet across, too far for even my Arcane Gate to reach to the other side of. We are about a hundred feet above the floor. Stretching ahead of us are a few platforms separated by distances too large for at least some of us to jump. The bridges that usually span the chamber are inconveniently (albeit expectedly) absent. We have two alternative means to traverse the chamber. We could descend to the floor and ascend the other side. Alternatively we could try and make it from column top to column top.

Bella squeals excitedly that she can get us across with her new found wind power. I've seen children at the winter solstice who are less excited to use their new toys than Bella is to use hers. I'm doing her a disservice by that. Her powers are incredibly useful, and we all take a perfectly legitimate pleasure and pride in using our abilities. Actually, it is quite a refreshing change to see her enjoy herself like she does. Perhaps I'm not the only one altered by the Feywild.

At any rate, she and Harbek proceed across the chamber. Unfortunately, they do not make it all the way, for suddenly an enormous Behir reveals itself from behind one of the stone columns and attacks them.

The rock pillar on which Harbek and the beast stands IS reachable with my Arcane Gate, so I rapidly open one, and most of our party charges through to engage the beast in hand to hand combat. I ask Bella to use her sorcerous winds to fly me over to the top of a different column, one where I will be in range of the Behir but hopefully out of its grasp.

A fierce combat then ensues. The Behir is a devastatingly powerful opponent, crackling with lightning. Anybody standing within several yards of it is hit by lightning constantly. It moves insanely quickly for an animal of its size and gets many devastating attacks with mouth and claws in a short space of time.

I wish that I could laud my role in this battle. But I find that the evil miasma of this place is very severely affecting my concentration. Or, at least, that is what I wish to blame for my complete failure to even hit the animal, let alone teleport it into the air, as was my goal. All of the half dozen spells that I sent at it missed it completely, not even getting close enough to bounce of its hide. Perhaps it is the will of Odin. The master of the lightning bolt and a creature of lightning? Or maybe I have just completely lost my touch.

Both the Behir and ourselves realize that a fine tactic is to toss somebody off the edge of the pillar. Initially, Bella’s and my attempts to make the creature lose its grip on the rock with well placed spells and bolts are unsuccessful, as are its attempt to toss any of our companions into the chasm. Our warriors engage it in hand to hand combat, I snipe ineffectually from my rock, and Bella first finds a safe place on the other side of the chamber and then joins into combat.

We are substantially damaging it when the first of what would appear to be a disaster occurs. A swipe from the monster sends Ardyn plummeting off the column they are on, to what I had foolishly assumed would be his doom. But he manages to slow his descent by grabbing onto an occasional handhold and then does an amazing acrobatic roll at the end. Not only is he not slain, he even lands on his feet.

But it does take him out of the fight for awhile. Not very long, mind you, as he is an incredibly skilled climber and quickly scales the column in a matter of a few seconds with the help of his trusty magical Rope of Climbing.

The battle continues above with the Behir taking the worst of it. But then disaster truly does strike. The Behir manages to concentrate its attacks on Turak and knocks him unconscious and then hurls the unconscious body off the rock. While this isn't enough to kill Turak, he expires before any of us can manage to descend down to aid him. Bella in particular tries to get down there but fails to arrive in time.

Fortunately, Turak’s death is the last triumph for the Behir, and as it tries to scuttle off to devour its prey, we manage to dispatch it, sending its body plummeting to the ground.

We then make use of the scroll of Raise Dead that we had been carrying these many weeks. It appears Turak feels that his mission on this world is not complete since his soul agrees to return. Not even death removes the effect upon Turak since he immediately wants to resume our journey onwards.

We fairly quickly arrived at the outer sanctum. There were several chambers, the innermost of which contains the doorway to the Inner Sanctum. Acting as a moat to that sanctum, complete with poisoned stakes, was a pit at the far end of the chamber crossed by a single bridge.

The chamber had two inhabitants. A huge demon vaguely resembling a minotaur held within a summoning circle inscribed on the floor, and a minotaur much larger than usual who Turak recognized. While the beast had always been a formidable fighter he was not previously of his current stature.

We approached the chamber. Bella was, quite reasonably, afraid to shoot the Minotaur since her shot would cross the circle. Unfortunately, it turns out that she should have taken her shot since a moment later a single word from the minotaur unleashed the demon anyway.

Our warriors rushed forward while Bella and I stayed at the rear. As they confronted the demon, Bella shot the minotaur, and the bolt causes It to stagger backwards and fall into the pit. Judging from the screams and curses that then came from the pit, it apparently had failed to miss all of the spikes.

Then another minotaur suddenly appeared out of thin air attacking Bella from behind. It was wielding a unicorn horn as a weapon and apparently had some ability to go invisible. And, also at the rear, a savage, demonic minotaur charged out of a side passage and tried to impale me on its horns, thankfully missing. Fortunately, I was able to blast the demon minotaur with eldritch power and, using the boon granted me by the Maiden, cause it to briefly enter the Feywild and reappear 20 feet away in the room with the other raging demon where it could be dispatched by our warriors.

Between Harbek, Bella and myself we quickly dispatched the minotaur with the unicorn horn. The fight between the other two demons and our three mighty warriors was a little longer lived but never really in issue. Smar is quite arrogant and quite foolish. While demanding healing from Harbek he flagrantly shows contempt for both the dwarf and his God, the great Odin. Harbek is, for the moment, letting his tactical wisdom and feeling of loyalty to one’s comrades overcome this and is providing the healing. But I'm not at all sure how long he will continue to do so if Smar doesn't mend his ways.

Meanwhile, from the pit behind us we heard various noises. At one point the large minotaur almost made it out before slipping and falling back. It was not until the two demons had been dispatched that the battered beast finally managed to emerge to attack us.

It would seem that the spirit of whimsy was high in all of us since we seemed more eager to push him back into the pit than to just kill him. Unfortunately, that wasn't possible and we were forced to the more mundane solution of slaying him outright.

Again it was all that we could do to dissuade Turak from charging forward, but with difficulty, we managed to convince him to let us rest a little.

After flying over the bridge we smashed open the doors to the Inner Sanctum.

The doors opened to reveal an appalling stench and an even worse sight. In the centre of a large chamber was a large rectangular pool filled with body parts, foul, bubbling sludge, and demons slowly swimming up to the surface. At the far end of the chamber on a raised dais was an altar behind which a minotaur shaman incanted a ritual. Affixed to his head was the iron, horned crown that had been described to us by our minotaur prisoners back on the road. In the chamber itself were perhaps a dozen or two demons, both the kinds that we had previously fought on the road and two minotaur guards.

Turak gave a bellow and charged through the room towards the altar. Fairly quietly at first but louder and louder as the battle raged he kept muttering the words "Beat him down, take the Crown". While it rhymes it is clearly not up to the high standards that I've come to expect. Still, it is minotaur magic and so I suppose one shouldn't expect too much.

The rest of us also entered the chamber and battle was joined.

In the first few seconds a few extremely unpleasant facts were established. Demons were coming out of the pool at an alarming rate. Unless something could be done, we'd be overwhelmed by sheer numbers.

I used the fey powers granted to me to teleport one of the demons into the pool. Unfortunately, the pool caused it no harm. I've read about such pools in my studies and realized that it would be possible for me to at least temporarily suppress the pool by manipulating the magic energies being transferred to it from the demon altar and the shaman. The pool is not a pool so much as a gate to the foul home of the Demons- a portal to the realm of Baphomet.

Unfortunately, to do so was going to be about all that I could do for most of the fight.

But I had little choice if we were to prevail.

The combat broke down into several separate but related fights. Ardyn was fighting one larger demon and some minor ones, Harbek and Smar some others, Turak charged up to fight Oostarix the shaman at the altar, I was focusing my efforts on dealing with the pool, and Bella was flitting about being unusually ineffective as she couldn't really decide what she wanted to accomplish. She first headed over to the altar but didn't get involved in that fight and instead sniped at various enemies on our side of the battle.

Our forces were quite spread out and we were greatly outnumbered. Although we managed to put down several demons quite quickly we were soon in danger of being overwhelmed. The crucial juncture arrived when Harbek fell to axe wielding Tanaruk. Although controlling the pool was taking up nearly all of my energies I managed to call up sufficient reserves to launch a Prismatic Burst, buying us a little time. Unfortunately, the edge of it clipped Harbek as well which may have contributed to his eventual fate. While I deeply regret the decision that I had to make I think that I'd make the same decision again. By hitting Harbek I also manage to hit an additional enemy and that was probably essential.

At one point my control of the pool nearly slipped. Although I managed to get the control back the effort cost me dearly.

I note that two foul minotaurs in the midst of the main melee, have partaken of a blasphemous ritual with the heart of a gorgon since they are both able to breath some form of gas capable of turning one to stone. Fortunately, I was able to quickly knock aside the gas with my magic. Smar was also caught in the gas, I hope that he too has some means of overcoming it.

I called out to Bella to get over and help keep us alive. Without somebody to distract our enemies we'd all soon fall. To my surprise, she started to make her way over. She is obviously braver than I'd given her credit for.

For a little bit of time my various defensive abilities kept me up through the assaults. I stayed up long enough to actually shut down the gate at the bottom of the pool but, before I could exalt in my triumph, I was knocked senseless.

I came too to find the battle still raging. Smar had obviously succumbed to the gas, as he was now a stone statue. I was in the concealment granted by a primal fog that Smar can summon. A very battered Ardyn was giving me first aid. Bella was also in the mist, looking the worse for wear and sniping away at the demons. Turak had managed to beat down the shaman but was resisting the call of the Horned Crown. In fact, as I awoke he was tossing the crown across the room.

With the death of the shaman the demons seemed to become even less controlled than usual, and fortunately two of them attacked the remaining minotaur guard, dispatching him fairly quickly but getting damaged in the process.

One of the remaining demons struck Ardyn unconscious. Bella and I withdrew, hoping to draw the demons with us and away from the bodies of our fallen comrades. Alas, it wasn't to be and one of them hacked the unconscious Ardyn to pieces.

Fortunately for all of us, the demons were also on their last legs and at least as interested in killing Turak as in killing us. We managed to slay all of the demons without further casualties.

As the battle ended, we looked for the crown but it was missing. While Bella started a ritual to open a portal back to Grimmsburg, I quickly searched the area, finding some magic items, some scrolls describing the foul magical rituals that these scum were using, and some useful magical components amongst the detritus that nobody of good conscience would use. We then returned to Grimmsburg, bringing with us the bodies of our two dead companions and the statue of our third.

 

[PHDungeon]

This is a recount of Session #41 from Bella's point of view.


Session 41: Plan ‘T’

It’s been a bad day.

Turak has been acting strangely since we got here. The dumb cow has been blissfully silent but uncharacteristically moody. He pushes us forward constantly, at first I believed it was stress because his entire clan seems to have fallen under demonic influence, but we had barely entered his labyrinth before all of us realized it was something more. This place is foul.

I have gleefully shot Turak twice. The first time at a disturbing altar we discovered that was made of a desecrated unicorn corpse. Merely looking at it enchanted a person into walking towards it and compelled the person to destroy it, likely triggering several nasty traps in the process. I shot him to try and slow him down. Even after Turak was able to resist the altar's affects he still walked up and smashed it. The thing of course exploded in blast of abyssal energy and badly injured Smar. When I first shot the bull, Smar believed I had been dominated, now he was only too happy to see me shoot him again. We rested while Smar gathered his strength and nursed his wounds. Turak paced the entire time.

Our next task was a giant canyon. Pillars of rock rose out of the dark depths and it was obvious that bridges had once connected them, but they had been cut down. I was able to use my new abilities to propel my companions across the gaps, but only two at a time. We were almost across when a giant Behir scuttled out from behind one of the great rock columns and attacked us. Harbek the dwarf stood alone against it, our party spread out across the enormous gaps but only for a few moments as Melech used his Arcane Gate to get the rest of the party to Harbek's aid. It was a hard fight, the creature thrashed at us and even managed to toss a few of us off the pillar. Fortunately the first to fall was the elf, the only one that could drop from 100 feet and sustain only minor injuries. As I learn about their race, I despise them more every day. The other was, tragically, Turak and to the surprise of everyone the fall managed to kill him.

After the fight was over I leapt to Turak’s corpse and used our precious Raise Dead scroll to return him to us. He was still eager to press on, it would seem that even death would not deter him from whatever was driving him forward.

Our next trial was the priest of the Golden Horn clan and a great demon bound to a summoning circle. This is the second time that I was permitted to shoot Turak as his bumbling forward would have disrupted the magic holding the demonic threat at bay. It proved to be for naught as a nasty minotaur priest only had to speak a command word and the demon was unleashed upon us. It could have been another nasty fight, but fortunately I was able to strike the shaman with an arrow and send him sprawling back into a spiked filled pit behind him. He somehow survived, but when he finally managed to climb out we had already killed his demon and his re-enforcements. We rewarded his triumph through perseverance with a quick death.

The last chamber lay beyond.

Now here we are. Turak has engaged the chief of the Golden Horn clan in melee combat leaving his friends to face a small army of demons and corrupted minotaurs. The pit in the center of the chamber produced an endless supply of minions. Fortunately Melech was eventually able to overcome it’s magic but it was the most grisly battle I had ever been in. I watched as our party fell to their onslaught one by one. First the dwarf fell and his unconscious body was savaged by a demon. The minotaurs seemed to have gotten extra powers from dark rituals and their very breath turned Smar into a stone statue. Melech and Ardyn remained and both were badly injured and it was at this moment that the teifling beseeched me for aid.

I should have ran.

I remember looking longingly at the door and knowing with certainty that I could escape. It occurred to me that I could finance a new group of heroes, I did not have to die here. Then an unwelcome thought ambushed me.

What would Bjorn think of me?

The thought took me by surprise but it spurred me into action. Instead of running to the door I put myself between my companions and the demons. Unfortunately I came too late to save Ardyn but Melech and I were able to kill the rest of our enemies.

Turak had been victorious in his battle. The crown upon the chief’s head had been enticing him to take the fallen chieftains place but in the end he was able to overcome its enchantment.

Grimly, we departed for home through a linked portal.

 

[PHDungeon]

The following is Smar's take on Session #41


It is strange, thinking back on the events that happened. I have lost days of life. I am told I made a good hall ornament in that time. We entered into the mountain of Turak’s tribe. It was even worse than I had imagined. His people were completely corrupted, their minds gone, their bodies twisted. Turak led us through a back door, but the way was littered with heresies against nature. A unicorn had been butchered, its body desecrated, its horn removed; a result of a ritual designed to steal the power of the spirit world, I am told. His people had begun to raise demons made out of the gore of the dead. A door to hell had been opened. His Shaman, once a devout follower of the spirits, had allowed hell to enter into his soul.

Still, all was not ill. We hunted down a massive lightning breathing dragon-like beast with more legs than an entire pack of deer. I managed to strike the killing blow, and as luck would have it, even as its body slid into the black depths bellow the platform on which we fought the beast, its head was torn off by jutting stalagmites. Its horns have made very nice trophies! And its teeth, they make nice additions to the bones tied into my hair.

We also fought a minotaur larger than any I have seen before. I am told it is a type of demon, a war machine of the Abyss. It too died, along with all the corrupted who fought along its side. But then things went very wrong. There were simply too many demons defending Turak’s one-time spirit guide. First I saw the dwarf fall. Then, as I fought to try and defend my blood brother, one of the creatures breathed on me. Its breath was even more foul than the stink of corpses in the room. But, who would have guessed that its breath could turn a wolf’s fur to stone? Before I knew it I was swallowed in blackness, my last memory was that of my skin turning as hard as rock. I could only pray that my brother Ardyn would escape alive.

And then I awoke. Somehow, the dwarf was still alive. I could have sworn I saw him fall! But we were in Grimsburg again. Magic, I am told, revived the fallen and undid the affliction that had suspended me as rock. It is good to move again. It is good to feel my muscles tire as I run. Soon we will head back to Hammerfest.

 

[PHDungeon]

GM Note: This was a landmark game session, in that after 42 sessions of play Bella finally meets her end.

Here's Melek's journal from session #42.

I've decided that it is time to start recording the tale of our adventures for posterity.

While previously I'd often taken the time to quietly reflect on what had transpired I hadn't made a permanent record of those thoughts, partly from a lack of a strong desire and partly from concern that the records not fall into the wrong hands.

I now find that my desire to keep a record is far stronger than it used to be. I am unsure if that is because of changes in myself, or just my coming to the realization that the true record of our acts is the best memorial I can make to the friends and companions who have fallen.

I will safeguard these records to at least some extent. First I will write them in the Southern tongue. And they are also encrypted with an Eladrin cipher that Allain seems to have taught me in my dreams.

This seems to be a good place to set down what we know about the Cult of Elemental Evil.

The cult is organized as independent units that know little or nothing of each other’s activities. This means that if one unit is compromised the others can continue to function unimpeded.

One such arm of the cult was the Yellow Skulls. These operated out of Nentir Vale and their activities were disrupted and the cult itself destroyed by my companions prior to my joining them.

There is also known to be a group operating out of Old Nerath, out of the Temple of Elemental Evil. The temple lies in an old fortress in the Chaos Mountains south of Nerath overlooking the Plains of Chaos. It is said that the borders between this world and the Elemental Chaos are weak within the plains and that there places there where one can cross over.

Their goal is the freeing of an entity variously known as The Elder Elemental Eye or the Slumberer. It is said to be a Primordial or even the Creator of Primordials.

It is with considerable sadness that I note that today Bella was slain. I am not sure if she will find some satisfaction and sense of professional pride in the fact that she died in exactly the same way that she liked to kill, by somebody striking from the shadows. I suspect not, but I can hope.

But, I should start closer to the beginning.

After we returned to Grimmsburg from the Golden Horn Clan Labyrinth we spent the next few days raising and restoring our friends and attending to some personal business. I went to the temple of Odin and formally left his service, as respectfully and forthrightly as possible. I was (and am) quite sincere when I expressed the fact that I still worship Odin and will still continue to do his bidding in this world. But my heart is no longer that of a Skanzi Warrior, and I truly feel unworthy of the honour that he had bestowed upon me. And I definitely have an allegiance to the Maiden as well as to Odin, an allegiance stronger than that felt by a warrior to his Jarl.

I am not sure if my insanity is gaining ground or if the other soul within me is gradually being merged with mine but my transition seems to have completed itself either in the Labyrinth or shortly thereafter. I now have a far greater facility with an entire range of skills than was previously my want. Intellectual, social, physical, it matters not. While I am a long way from being a master of everything I am most certainly quite competent and everything that I have tried.

No, this cannot be insanity; or at least, not merely insanity. While I could be fooling myself about my ability to ride a horse or darn a sweater, I am not fooling myself when I say that I can now cast two rituals, musical skaldic rituals, that I was previously unable to do. And I am not fooling myself when I say that I was able to quickly and easily master some far more advanced Bardic rituals that I learned at Skaldsholme.

I also went and had a chat with Bella. I expressed to her my gratitude that she had stayed behind when the situation had seemed very dire and not abandoned us. Although she disclaimed any need for that gratitude I believe that she was, in fact, at least slightly pleased. I may be fooling myself but I'd like to believe that she did, in her own way, appreciate that acknowledgement. I'd like to believe that she saw us as something more than useful companions. I know that I tried to make her my friend.

I am now somewhat in debt to a moneylender that reports to Bella. I needed the money to purchase some Bardic rituals and an appropriate focus. I was a little surprised to be drawn to the Tambourine as my instrument of choice. Hardly a traditional Skanzi instrument. But it just felt completely right in my hands. The Skanzi part of me thinks that it may be a silly instrument for a powerful male wizard. But the elven "part" of me thinks that it is a fine instrument for both sexes, one that has historically been associated with many cultures and even used in a martial context. Not surprisingly, my companions turned out to mostly agree with the Skanzi part of me.

After all of our companions were restored to health and after we'd finished processing the various materials we had found into Ritual components we decided to head off to Hammerfest. We had to inform the dwarves of the status of the Golden Horn minotaur clan and we also wished to check the library there in the hope that we would find more information on the Divine Engine.

My companions were quite amused by my new sartorial tastes. Again, I think that this is just the hyper aggressive masculinity of the Skanzi speaking. There is nothing at all wrong with somebody wearing nice, pretty clothing.

Now that I see that in writing, I realize how strange that is. Perhaps it wasn't my companions who are wrong but it is instead me. It has just occurred to me that I've been assuming that Allain was a male. But Allayne is a woman’s name.

I suddenly find myself wondering how rich a sense of humour the Maiden of the Moon has. She IS Fey, after all, and likely old enough to be bored and seeking amusement.

Bella opened up a portal to Fallcrest where we intended to immediately go off by Giant Eagle towards Hammerfest. However, once at Fallcrest we quickly learned that a small party of Frost Giants consisting of a Giantess and a handful of guards had been sighted near town heading along the river towards Grimmsburg. There was no indication that they were marauding or attacking villages, so far as we could tell they seemed to be peaceful.

We consulted with the leader at Fallcrest and decided that we should investigate. So I cast my ritual to summon Giant Eagles.

I was quite surprised to find that instead of Eagles what appeared were Pegasi. My companions were variously amused or appalled at the thought of flying on such beautiful creatures instead of the more usual Eagles. One could almost feel sorry for poor Smar, he was so clearly upset at the very concept of mounting something so elegant and beautiful. At least Ardyn seemed to appreciate the Pegasi, even giving the one that he was riding a name.

We flew off on our glorious steeds along the river towards where the Giants had been sighted. To our surprise, we came across a scene of combat at a cliff edge as a larger force of Frost Giants led by one mounted upon a mammoth were attacking the smaller band that we had heard tell of. And the new force was very clearly winning the fight.

The band that we'd been tracking hadn't been marauding, and they were the underdog. For no better reasons than that we decided to intervene on their behalf. Fortunately, that turned out to be the correct decision.

Smar was so eager to leave his mount that he hurled himself off from 50 feet in the air, landing on a Frost Giant. The rest of us landed somewhat more sedately and combat was joined.

All of us had the same idea of pushing our opponents over the cliff edge. Smar has a newfound power that allows him to summon up primal winds that he can use to buffet his opponents. Bella used her bolts that cause the giants to stagger backward. I attempted to use my ability to teleport my enemies.

Unfortunately, none of us succeeded. The giants and mammoth were just too large and too resistant to our magics. Although we got some near the edge we were unable to get any of them to actually fall.

Fortunately, they were no match for the more pedestrian use of our powers and we prevailed, although not before I was severely injured by the Mammoth. One of the Giants tried to surrender but he was slain. Not by Smar as I'd expected, but instead by one of the escorts of the Giantess. The mammoth and its bow wielding rider fled into the wilderness.

The Giantess was Sonia Orelsdottir, the wife of Jarl Grundersson, leader of the Mammoth Tusk Clan. She had been heading to Grimmsburg to seek the help of Jarl Sturgleson.

Grundersson had been, by giant standards, a peaceful ruler who had his people primarily hunt for mammoths in the northern tundra as opposed to raiding. This changed when a massive Frost Giant (more likely an Ice Titan) calling himself Thrym showed up with Ulmir, the great White Dragon.

Thrym is somebody out of legend. As I remember the Edda, he and his entire band were slain by Loki and Thor after he had stolen Mjöllnir. And, if I am remembering the tale correctly, Thor succeeded only by dressing in a rather pretty dress. It would seem that the Aesir are less relentlessly masculine than the Skanzi.

Whether or not this really is the Thrym of legend, he has taken over the Mammoth Tusk Clan and corrupted Grundersson. Sonia believes that it might be possible to redeem Grundersson, which is definitely something to keep in mind.

Thrym is leading an expedition consisting of Grundersson and scores of Giants. They have traveled from their stronghold in the Cairngorn peaks west towards the distant coast of the Ice Mountain Sea. They left some time ago. The expedition will build ships when they reach the coast and then they will sail into the sea, seeking a point where the barriers between this world and the Plain of Chaos are weak. They expect to sail into a great frigid sea lying in the bowl of a massive earth motte floating in the Elemental Chaos. On an island inside the Bowl is the Frost Spire and inside of that Spire is believed to be a shard of the Divine Engine.

Thrym’s goal is to initiate Ragnarok and likely destroy all of reality in order to revenge himself upon the Aesir. Apparently Grundersson and his giants believe that they will survive this and become great lords when the Primordials remake the world. Deluded fools.

Sonia was opposed to Ragnarok, and so she was imprisoned by her husband. It took her awhile to convince some of her guards to help her but eventually she managed to escape with their aid. She set off to Grimsburg to warn the Jarl of what was happening and to enlist aid to stop Thrym.

After using a Sending ritual to warn of their impending arrival Bella opened up a portal to the temple of the Aesir in Grimmsburg and sent Sonia and her sole remaining guard through. There they can speak with Jarl Sturgleson. I am sure that once we have concluded our business in Hammerfast, we will see her again, and likely offer our aid.

We then remounted our Pegasi and proceeded on to Hammerfest.

In Hammerfest, we split into 2 groups. The more intellectually inclined (Bella and myself) went off to the library while the others first checked in with the administrator of Hammerfest and then went off to relax in a low Dwarven dive. Some of Turak’s Golden Horn clan had also made it to Hammerfest untainted by the corruption that had infected the rest of his kin. Turak was overjoyed, and reunited with them before going to the pub to celebrate.

At the library we asked to meet the head librarian and were directed to Alzar Scrollkeeper The High Librarian. We explained our intentions to him and gave him the letter of reference that had been provided by Briannah. Thanks to Briannah’s letter, Alzar Scrollkeeper The High Librarian was then quite happy to allow us into the restricted area of the stacks. We were warned about a mischievous (or perhaps insane) ghost who haunted the stacks. We attempted to placate the ghost but were unsuccessful.

The first day we managed to glean a little more information but nothing of great import. We then reunited for the evening with our companions who seemed to all be covered in muck and piss. Quite the stench. I used prestidigitation to at least mostly clean them up. Apparently they had been engaged in some rather rowdy celebrating.

We have received a total of 18,000 gold from the Hammerfast Trade Guild as a partial payment for resolving the minotaur problem. They will give us the remainder of the payment once we ensure that all of the Demons of Baphomet have been eradicated. So, once we finish our research in the library we will have to return to the labyrinth and see that any demons remaining are hunted down and destroyed. Not just for the money, of course. They are a danger that must be eliminated, and I suspect that Turak wants his vengeance to be complete and thorough.

The next day Bella and I returned to the library to do further research. Prior to doing that Bella sent a message and opened up a portal back to Grimmsburg. Briannah brought over a couple of books on dwarven geneology to help quieten the ghost, for such topics were of great interest to the apparition. She was overjoyed to get the chance to visit the library here without the burden of traveling. She also got to meet in person Alzar Scrollkeeper The High Librarian.

I'd just managed to find a document of considerable interest when I heard Bella calling out. Looking over I saw that she was being attacked by a masked man emeshed in Shadows, his first blow having apparently missed her.

A fight then ensued between Bella, myself and the assassin. After failing to kill her on his initial strike and being hit by one of Bella’s frozen bolts the assassin had turned invisible, probably in an attempt to flee the scene. He then was so incredibly stupid as to attack Bella when she pretended to nonchantly walk by him. Although it was a neat attempt Bella was unable to turn his attack back on himself. I then managed to Eldritch Blast the assassin but that wasn't sufficient to put him down and before I could further act he landed a deadly slash with his blade that caused Bella to collapse.

I'd like to be able to state how I then saved the day by killing the assassin. I certainly tried. But the assassin was extremely agile and managed to dodge my blasts until it was too late for Bella. He slashed me once, nearly knocking me unconscious, but then turned his attention back to Bella’s bleeding body and slit her throat before I could stop him.

At least I managed to avenge Bella by slaying the foul scum with a final eldritch blast before he could escape.

I've replayed the fight in my head a thousand times since then. Perhaps we should have allowed the assassin to flee. Perhaps I shouldn't have concentrated so much on killing the assassin and instead should have tried to heal Bella. Or perhaps we should have just fled.

I can't help think that we were very unlucky. Another time my blasts would have downed him before he could finish Bella off, or she would have shoved his blade into him when she fooled him into attacking.

Bella has been very specific in the past that, if she is killed, she does not want us to attempt to bring her back to life. We will, however reluctantly, honour those wishes.

I'll miss her. I regret the fact that I never did understand her, and now I never will. For somebody who appeared to be such a stone cold killer she certainly risked her life for others and was truly loyal to her companions. She seemed a deeply unhappy person to me but hopefully that impression was very wrong. I certainly hope that she has gone to whatever afterlife she wanted to go to.

Although I'm sure that she'd deny it and hate my saying it, she died a great hero and hopefully will be allowed to reside in Valhalla.

Now we have to decide how to proceed. Although I am also a Ritualist it was Bella who cast most of the Rituals that we used. I now have access to her spellbook (a remarkably attractive book) and will obviously have to master at least a few more rituals. We make very regular use of Sending and Linked Portal. And if we're to go into the North and try to make it to the Frost Spire we'll certainly need, at the very least, Endure Elements. So at some point I'll have to spend at least a few days somewhere in intense study.

We also should consider going to Grimmsburg and acting before they receive word of Bella’s death. I'd like to get access to Stark’s library again. More importantly, there is now going to be a power vacuum in the underworld that the Jarl should be aware of. Perhaps Skarn, her second in command, can quietly take over, especially if he is informed before any rivals. If we decide that it is a good idea I should be able to make people believe that Bella is alive for at least a little while.

I'd also like to track down who sent that assassin and convince them that they made a fatal mistake in targeting Bella. Apparently there was a previous attempt on Stark before I joined the group. These attacks may or may not be related.

Hmm. It looks like I should add Speak with Dead to the list of Rituals that I need to master.

First, we have to go track down that last remaining band of demon cursed Minotaurs.

We will then, presumably, head off to try and intercept Thrym before he can get the fragment of Odin’s Divine Engine.

The next few weeks are going to busy and dangerous.

 

[PHDungeon]

From Melek:


It sounds hideously cold blooded to say that one of the first things that I did after notifying my companions of the tragedy that befell us was to dive into Bella’s ritual books. Unfortunately, there was little choice. We desperately needed to have access to some of the magics contained in her books. At least I can claim some moral right to some of the rituals contained within.

I had recognized the ring on the assassin’s finger as belonging to the Black Citadel. It is almost certainly the case that the assassin was given his assignment from a superior in the guild and would not have known much beyond the name of his target. He would be unlikely to have had any idea who he was working for or why Bella was a target.

I already know something of the Black Citadel. They are rumoured to operate out of a fortress in the Shadowfell- The Black Citadel. Pretty much all the assassins in the guild are Shadar-kai, and the leader of the guild is an enigmatic figure known as the Grandmaster of Assassins. They are feared throughout the region, and their reputation is such that patrons frequently come from the distant southern lands to hire their services. They are highly secretive. It is believed that there is some sort of means of accessing the Shadowfell near Saltmarsh, and that the assassins use this "gate" to travel back and forth between midgard and their secret citadel in the Shadowfell. Individuals wishing to hire the guild's services do so through underworld intermediaries in Saltmarsh. According to rumour and story, their only "guildhall" is the Black Citadel in the Shadowfell, but it is assumed that they have safe houses in Grimmsburg and other cities in the north. Their services are expensive, and they are only contracted for very important and dangerous jobs. The guild is very old, and stories of its existence date back hundreds of years to the days of Bhal Turath.

Although I expected to get little out of it, the first order of business was to question the corpses of the assassin and of Bella herself. And so the first spell from her book that I mastered was Speak with the Dead.

As expected, we got nothing of any use from the assassin. The guild’s network of informers in Grimmsburg told them of our trip, he didn't know why Bella was targeted nor by whom.

Talking to Bella was a little more useful although not much. She suspects that the Black Citadel itself wanted her dead, presumably because they didn't want the competition. There is no way to know if that supposition is correct, but it is not obviously wrong.

So, when time allows we have to destroy the Black Citadel. It’s nice to have a long term goal.

Unfortunately, at the moment we have the slightly more pressing business of stopping Ragnorak to attend to. So revenge will have to wait. I can talk solace in the old Turathi proverb, "Revenge is a dish best eaten cold".

We decided that it was time to finish off the last remaining piece of business here at Hammerfest. We returned to Turak’s labyrinth and discovered it empty, but we very easily picked up the tracks of the remaining demons of Baphomet by the wide trail of destruction that they were leaving. They had recently abandoned their lair and were on the move. Most certainly they were searching for mortals to torment and destroy. At one point we came across a band of ogres that had been torn apart by the Demons. It’s nice to know that my enemy can often be the enemy of my enemy.

While investigating the bodies of the ogres Ardyn noticed that we were being watched. It soon turned out that the watcher was an elf by the name of Kanis Lunark, a member of the Lythari Druidic order of shapechanging wolves.

The group of us, including Kanis, then proceeded on to a small steading formerly inhabited by some Dwarves who survived by a combination of hunting and extorting small payments from local passers by. Our quarry had arrived there before us and were eating the remnants of the dwarves as we arrived.

The ensuing fight was fairly short lived and reasonably one sided. The one new demonic form, a large horned demon, wasn't as dangerous as his appearance had led us to expect. Our new Lythari ally is a good archer and clearly about on a par with us in terms of combat ability. He seems to have a fair few tricks up his sleeve, vanishing into the Fey Wild on more than one occasion. I wonder if he goes to the same place there as I do.

I used the new mass charming ability that the Maiden had recently granted me to great effect. The effect itself is quite powerful and the fact that it seemingly NEVER fails to work is quite the advantage.

Kanis can shift back and forth from wolf form to human form incredibly gracefully and quickly, often moving a fair bit in the process. His shapeshifting is far more fluid than any werewolf I've previously encountered (although that is a quite small sample set) and definitely faster at it than Smar.

We desperately need all of the help that we can get and Kanis can clearly take care of himself so we asked him if he wished to join us in our attempt to forestall Ragnorok. He agreed to accompany us.

After dispatching the demons we returned to Hammerfast to collect the last of our reward (another 1,000 gp each) from the Tradesguild for dealing with the minotaur problem. We then headed back to Grimmsburg to consult with the Jarl, the Ice giantess, and the council.

In Grimmsburg, we privately informed Jarl Sturgleson that Belladonna had fallen so that he could make whatever preparations he thought appropriate to deal with the power struggle that now may ensue in the Styes.

I also went to visit Esme and pay off my loan. I gave her a 5% premium over the original value of the loan, a grossly extravagant payment given that I had the funds for less than a fortnight. She made noises as if she expected more, but I believe that to be just a vague attempt to get even more out of me.

The next event of significance that occurred was a meeting of the Jarl and his council to determine our next course of action. Three plans were proposed: Go into the icy chaos wastes and try and recover the Shard either before the Frost Giants could get it or before they could get away with it. A Jarl on the sea has an enchanted boat that would be very useful on such an expedition, although getting the vessel may not be trivial as he owes no fealty to Grimmsburg. Dean Danzig believes that he has found where another Shard is located. It is within the city of Moil, a city swarming with undead in the Shadowfell, a city cursed by the Gods. Briannah is of the opinion that we should go down to the Temple of Elemental Evil and enter the Chaos wastes from there.

After some discussion the issue remained unresolved. High Canon Wulgrim said that he would consult with the Gods to see if their guidance would help.

The next morning we reconvened. The Gods had given us some advice but, as is so often the case, the advice was somewhat cryptic.

As best as I can recall, the Gods message was:

The seas of ice are a perilous path that will lead to glorious battle and an ancient foe’s wrath.

The way of shadow may be more frigid than the icy seas. Here you risk aiding our enemies. Yet in darkness you may find… a chance to avert a threat to all mankind.

To travel south too soon may not be a boon, but to travel this path too late will seal our fate.

We interpreted the message as telling us that we should not yet go to the Temple of Elemental Evil although we WILL have to go there at one point. If there was any new information in the prophecy about the Frost Giants it was the fact that the prophecy did NOT state that we would gain a treasure, implying that the journey there would be fruitless.

My suspicion is that the Norns have weaved fate so that we will fail to acquire the Shards but that we will acquire sufficient knowledge and power as to be able to disrupt the final ritual, a ritual that will be performed at the Temple of Elemental Evil. I have no real basis for that suspicion except that it would seem dramatically appropriate. Recently I seem to see the world as one that often acts in dramatically appropriate fashion. Probably just more of Perrin leaking through.

So, we decided that the best course of action was to head into the Shadowfell. Dean Danzig can open a gate there and has also provided us with a Scroll of Planar Portal so that we can return.

Before we left I managed to acquire the Solace Bole ritual. If we can find time to cast it within Moil it should make resting far, far safer.

Given how cold the Shadowfell is known to be and how dangerous generally, I cast both Song of Sustenance and Endure Elements on our group. Dean Danzig then opened the portal to Moil.

We went through the portal and found ourselves in a great chamber. It was one level of a somewhat ruined tower. The tower itself was leaning at a good angle, making moving around it quite difficult. Two sides of the tower had partially collapsed, as had portions of the roof. There is one obvious exit from the chamber, an exit leading to a stone bridge.

Unfortunately, the tower was occupied by some quite powerful and unusual undead, at least two sorts being present. The undead had the ability to breath out exceedingly cold and harmful breath. Their claws tried to drain the life out of those they hit. Perhaps most disturbing of all, some of them exploded in a great burst when they are finally slain.

The battle was fairly swift. Ardyn summoned up some wind spirits who attempted to blow one of the undead out the broken side of the tower. The foul creature kept managing to grasp on to the edge and attempt to make it back into the fray, while Ardyn kept blowing it back. This went on for some time before the undead become so frustrated with the whole thing that it fled out the hole on its own volition.

Meanwhile, Kanis created a magical zone, a portal to the Feywild that befuddled all within it and that also teleported back into the centre those who tried to leave it. I used mass charm to move some of the undead within the zone. At that point, the fight largely turned into a comedy as the undead tried to leave the zone and the other undead tried to get away from the wind spirits.

However, there were very definitely some serious moments. Harbek was struck by the claws of one of the beasts and came close to dying as a result. As he slipped into unconsciousness I hurried over. Between my healing and his dwarven fortitude he managed to recover from the effect but it was far closer than I would have liked.

And it was about at that point that we discovered that some of the creatures explode when destroyed, exploding in a huge burst of necrotic and cold damage. It wasn't enough to kill any of us but it definitely hurt a lot

After the fight, as we rested for a little while to recover, we discovered one more ominous fact about the Shadowfell. The rest did not restore our energies to the extent that it normally does and healing magic is not as potent. After a short rest we were are all still somewhat tired. Even Turak was affected.