Piratecat's Updated Story Hour! (update 4/03 and 4/06)

[Piratecat]

Poor guy had such good intentions. Just goes to show, doesn't it?

I got the idea of extra-planar art from someone in the RBDM club. Since kuo-toa can see ethereal things that move, all of their art is designed to sway and rotate in the ethereal winds. As they walk around, they are constantly surrounded by half-seen glimpses of color and artistry. It's probably very appealing if you happen to be a walking, degenerate fish people. I wouldn't know, myself.

Although they never saw the details, the statue of a human knight that was hanging in mid-air over Glubyal's bay is held there by a massive carved statue of Blibdoolpoolp, clutching the human in one giant ethereal pincher. It slowly rotates with the tides, and it's a great land-mark.

 

[Piratecat]

“Velendo, she’s reaching!” Agar shouts. There is a dull klunk as the mammoth claw thuds against a hastily cast sovereign wall. The impenetrable wall vibrates as an unseen claw repeatedly smashes into it.

“Maybe she was reaching down to crown Priggle? But I’m not betting on it.”

“What, crown me? Why?” asks Priggle in confusion.

“You were the one who actually killed Blel-Plibbit,” Velendo explains.

Priggle shivers. “No thank you. I get enough damp, smelly, slimy problems in my life without having to be King Kuo-Toa.”

Clacking echoes within the hemisphere protected by Velendo’s powerful prayer. “I think she’s just confused,” relays Agar. “She might not be very bright. Okay, now she’s stopped pounding on our shelter and is picking up the fallen crown from Thoobel’s head.” Everyone watches with rapt attention as the crown floats in mid-air, apparently held by nothing at all; the decapitated head drops from it and is immediately flattened by an enormous unseen foot. “All right, she’s got the crown and she’s turning,” Agar continues reporting, “and she’s heading out towards the breeding pools. She’s going, she’s going… and now she’s gone, out of eyesight. The kuo-toa are all following her. Every single one.”

Agar refocuses his vision on the Prime. Everyone breathes a sigh of relief, and sits down to rest. “So what do we do now?” asks Splinder, glowering. “We’ve lost some boys, but the rest of us are healthy enough.”

After some emotional debate, the group decides that retreating to rest is most likely a bad tactical decision; no one wants to try the defenses that may be raised by tomorrow. "Let's chance it," advises Nolin, and so Velendo drops the magical wall and everyone runs south towards the edge of the Glass Pool. The group moves in formation, and the dwarves split off to act as perimeter guards while the rest of the group moves up to study the sacred shrine.

Lit primarily by gray luminescent slugs, the pool of frozen ice glitters like cut crystal. The frozen section of the pool is surrounded by dark water. Only a narrow ledge passes across the long pool, and balanced on the ice stands an empty stone pedestal.

Stone Bear, Tao and Galthia wade through the water onto the stone path, treading delicately on the poisonous coral beneath the water’s surface. Nolin flies directly over to the glassy ice, laying down in a well-worn spot that has obviously served Blel-Plibbit many times. “Hello?” thinks Nolin intently. “Is there anyone down there? We’ve come at the behest of your sister to rescue you!” The rest of the group stands guard around the unattended holy pool, waiting for something to happen.

“Why aren’t there guards?” worries Velendo.

“There are,” points out Stone Bear. “They’re just over with the walking statue in the breeding pools.” He points to the empty pedestal rising from the ice. “I think the statue used to stand right there, until it animated. Hopefully that was the only guard.” He shakes his head. “But I doubt…” He is cut off by the creatures phasing in behind him. They are huge, a loathsome amalgam of lobster and kuo-toa, the humanoid fish-body rising centaur-like from fifteen feet of angry crustacean. In addition to massive snapping claws that spring from the lobster body, each of the three creatures whirls a huge metal chain. Before anyone can react, all three monsters attack.

The first guardian gets a perfect shot, wrapping his chain around Stone Bear’s neck and yanking in a move that would instantly snap most people’s neck. Stone Bear’s training allows him to hunch his shoulders just enough to prevent instant death, but he feels burning magic as the chain bites into his skin. Blood fountains upwards.

The second monster wraps its spiked chain around Tao’s waist and yanks. The horrible impact snaps something in the small of her back, and she feels her entire body go numb. Weapons fall from her hands and clatter onto the ice as she tumbles bonelessly from her feet. The third lobster thing smashes its chain into Galthia, hurting the monk badly but not disabling him. He keeps his feet even as he winces in pain. "I can't take many more hits like that," he gasps. Stone Bear mutely agrees with him.

Velendo is the first to respond. Clutching the Grimrod in one gnarled fist and chanting a prayer, he flies forward to graze Stone Bear’s heck with his other hand. A golden spark leaps from the Grimrod to Stone Bear, and a maximized cure critical wounds heals a portion of the damage done by the monster’s chain.

“Lobstertaurs?” asks Nolin from where he’s lying on the ice. “What I wouldn't give for Otiluke's Melted Butter Bath!” He casts fire seed and tosses the acorn at one of the monsters, but completely misses. “Err... you guys deal with them. I'll do the talking thing.” Frustrated, he lays his head back on the ice and keeps trying to communicate with the spirit he assumes is inside it.

Galthia turns, clearly angry. He grabs the thick chain with one hand and pulls himself a bit closer, moving himself between the two massive claws so that he can actually reach the kuo-toa half of the abomination. His fist jabs upwards like a piledriver and smashes the kuo-toa in its weak chin. Teeth shatter, and its head rocks backwards from the stunning blow. Even as its chain drops to the ground, Galthia hits it in the head and chest another three times. The third blow is a fist of power that knocks the monster completely unconscious; spittle flies from its broken mouth as its kuo-toa body slumps helplessly forward.

Priggle leaps forward to coup de grace the guardian before it wakes up. A lobster claw from one of the other guardians almost grabs him, but he ducks beneath it as he tries to crush the monster’s windpipe. It’s too tough for his pick, however, and he’s unable to dispatch it.

Tao may be paralyzed from the initial attack, but her mind is still functioning and she still has a fly spell on her. Her limp body soars into the air out of reach. Her opponent tries to grab her in its largest claw, but its ridges scrape off of her elven chainmail as she successfully floats away. Furious, the creature skitters forward. Attacks from Galthia and Priggle barely hurt it, and it touches the lobster that Galthia just knocked unconscious. Both creatures shimmer and completely vanish.

“Invisible?” yells Mara.

“No!” answers Agar, trying to focus his vision. “Ethereal!” Now looking onto the correct plane, he sees ethereal chains leading from the pedestal to each guardian. “They’re chained in this spot, I think. If we have to retreat, they probably won’t be able to follow.”

The third monster reaches out to slice Stone Bear in half with its claws. It misses horribly, and Stone Bear tries to sunder its spiked chain before it withdraws. He fails, and the lobster-thing shimmers and disappears as well. The shaman seizes the opportunity to pray to his ancestors, and the wound around his neck further heals.

From somewhere nearby, a bestial howl shakes the cavern. Mara spins and is surprised to see the same misshapen giant that she had reluctantly left behind at Thulk’s Wall, a squishy kuo-toa grasped in either fist. “Grgl!” she exclaims with delight as the creature lumbers forward. "Where did you come from?"

* * *

It couldn’t get the fragile little thing’s face out of its mind. King Thulk mocked him, and the other formorians beat him badly for his weakness – but always, the human woman whispered to him in the dark of the night. You are not weak, she would say. I want you with me. I will value you. You will protect me, and bathe in the blood of my enemies. Finally the visions drove him nearly to insanity, and he stole away from the tribe while the others were deep in slumber. His flattened nose sniffed out her faint scent, and he followed. Into kuo-toa territory – and who would challenge one from the tribe of Thulk? – down the long tunnel where her scent disappeared, and into this strange city itself. He had smashed through walls that stopped him, squished the fish-things that stood in his way. For he loved, and he would murder all of Her friends if they stood before him! The thefts and threats and death he would deal would now all be dedicated to this woman. Grgl had a purpose, and it would be fulfilled. Perhaps this was worship? All the giant knew is that he was loyal to the human woman instead of to King Thulk, and he would lay down his life for her.

And now he smells her blood! The human woman’s radiance is before him, and she is in danger. Something, Grgl thinks, just made a bad mistake.

* * *

In giantish, the huge form howls again. “Beloved in trouble!” it trumpets. “I have come for you!” Mara doesn’t understand a word, but Nolin nearly chokes.

“What did it say, Nolin?”

The bard rolls his eyes. “You don’t want to know. I think it’s loyal to you, though. Now, be quiet.” He lowers his head again, and an alien thought slowly surfaces like a long-trapped bubble.

“…Who… …are…?”

“I’m Nolin Benholm,” responds the bard confidently. “We’re here to free you.”

Mara turns back to the giant. “Hello,” she says loudly and slowly, like speaking to a child. “I didn’t expect you to follow us!” Grgl looks at her dumbfounded, simple adoration lighting up its malformed face.

“Mara,” Tao whispers dryly from behind Mara, “those lobster-things are still around here. If it’s not too much trouble, might you please put that rod from my belt into my hand? So long as it’s not an inconvenience or anything.” Tao’s sarcasm is completely lost on the radiant knight, and she cheerfully complies. Malachite approaches to help Tao grip the rod.

“You’ll live, Tao,” says Malachite as he examines her wound with a critical eye. “A few more minutes and you’ll be moving again.”

“We may not have that long.”

Velendo readies a flame strike for the monsters’ reappearance, Tao readies her rod, Mara waits nervously, and Stone Bear readies to sunder the magical spiked chains. Galthia punches himself in pressure points to release the sweet sensation of healing, then readies to attack the first monster to appear. Meanwhile, Priggle examines the stone pedestal and clucks his tongue. “This is going to have to come down if we want to break up that ice,” he says, and uses his gnomish knowledge to soften stone.

Stone is enemy? wonders the love-struck Grgl. I will show beloved what I can do! Grgl smashes the platform with closed fists, and everyone not standing on the ice nearly falls to their knees from the vibrations. Priggle and Grgl pound repeatedly against the disintegrating stone pedestal, loosening chunks of the ancient construction.

“Watch out, everyone,” warns Agar. “They’re drawing ethereal mist over themselves. I can’t see them any more. They could be anywhere around here.” Silence, broken only by an distant chanting in kuo-toa and the sound of Grgl grunting.

Suddenly Mara slaps herself in the forehead, turns, and casts remove paralysis on Tao. The divine agent immediately feels blood returning to her limbs. As she rotates in mid-air, two of the lobster-things reappear in a shimmer of magic. Both of them try to kill the recumbent Nolin.

“There!” someone shouts. The flame strike crashes down and Tao uses her Rod of True Nature to cast purify flesh on the abominations. The line between their hard shell and slimy skin erupts into blisters, even as Stone Bear swings both fists at one of the magical spiked chains. He takes damage from the baneful enchantments, but the powerful chain is shattered into individual links by the strength of his blow.

Nolin looks up to see the injured monsters looming above him. A huge chain snaps down, scoring the ice where his head was seconds before. Only the formorian giant has a chance to hit them before they shimmer and disappear once more.

Into Nolin’s head the slow, icy thoughts continue. “…you?” The bard responds by asking how the captive can be freed. There is no immediate answer, and Nolin sighs. This is going to take all day.

Agar squints into the ethereal. “These things are like phase spiders,” he grumbles. “Ready, everyone? One is still unconscious, one is spell casting, and one is coming back again – and it’s stalking Galthia!”

To be continued…

 

[Piratecat]

Bandeeto (the player of Arcade) was visiting us during this game, as was Dr. Rictus (the player of Palladio and designer of Agar.) We gave Priggle to Dr. Rictus, and Bandeeto got to play Grgl. Poor Mara made an impassioned argument for keeping Grgl around afterwards: "But he's not evil, and he really likes me!"

Well, a .500 ratio is good in baseball, at least.

 

[andrew_kenrick]

OK, since I seem to be the only one who's confused/can't remember, where the heck did Grgl come from? I don't remember him, and, well, I just think I would for some reason.

He was the Fomorian in charge of the lift mechanism up the side of the big cliff, who was persuaded by Nolin to carry him to the top without parting with treasure. I think he was rather bowled over by the rather stupendous combined Charismas of Nolin and Mara.

Andrew

 

[Piratecat]

Post a day for the rest of the week! Starting now....

--------------------

Faint chanting. Horrible odors. Rippling water and falling stone, skittering atop shining ice that contains. . . something. And in the everpresent ethereal mist, half-lobster kuo-toa abominations that are determined to protect the Sea king’s prize.

Galthia tries to lift one of the monsters’ dropped chains but grunts as he realizes exactly how heavy the weapon is. The metal clanks dully as it bounces from the ice, and the githzerai readies himself to charge the first enemy who appears. A shimmer. . . and lobster legs drum a tattoo upon the ice as the monster appears and braces itself to snap Nolin in two. Galthia charges and the kuo-toa guardian flings its chain at the monk’s bobbing head.

Galthia leans to the side and continues his charge, hearing the chain whistle past his ear. “Leap for its head,” he thinks to the others. “It’s the weak spot.” In demonstration, Galthia launches himself nimbly onto one massive claw and smashes his fist into the kuo-toa’s chin as hard as he can. Carried by the momentum, the monk hits the ice and unfortunately keeps moving. He slides into the dark water of the Glass Pool and surfaces with an embarrassed sputter.

His attack was successful, though. The creature sways for a few seconds, stunned, and with a clacking wheeze collapses to the ice unconscious. Mara charges it with her lance, easily puncturing the shell, and even Nolin takes an ineffectual swing from where he lies on the ice. The misshapen giant Grgl throws his head back to growl a challenge before smashing his club across the kuo-toa’s backbone. Vertebrae snap, and a bloody mess litters the ice next to Nolin.

Grgl turns to Mara. “Killed it for you, Mistress.”

Mara smiles, her polished armor reflecting faint light onto Grgl’s ugly face. “Thank you. What a kind gift.”

“There’s still more,” warns Agar as he prepares a dimensional anchor. “Don’t relax just yet. From the water behind him, a massive water elemental summoned by Velendo rises silently from the dark pool.

“There!”

The last monster phases in, but the Defenders launch their attacks before it has a chance to get its bearings. Agar starts with a dimensional anchor that misses completely.

Likewise, Velendo’s searing light also misses the monster, arrowing instead into Priggle’s back. The svirfneblin’s innate magical resistance disperses the spell’s energy without harm, but Priggle turns to look mournfully at Velendo.

“You know, if you don’t want me here, you can just tell me to go away. Everyone else does. But no, you have to try to kill me.” He shakes his head sadly. “It’s a sad day when someone you think of as a friend tries to incinerate you. I should have expected it, I suppose.” He sighs before looking back at the monster.

Velendo is taken aback. “Priggle, I didn’t mean to. . . Oh, never mind. I’ll apologize afterwards. Eyes front.”

Priggle glances at him suspiciously. “Hummph.” There is no need for the svirfneblin to attack, though. The water elemental hits the creature, as does Stone Bear, Mara and Tao. It drops dead before it has a chance to launch its attack.

“Agar, are we clear?”

The halfling gazes deep into the ethereal. “We’re clear. There’s one creature left, but it’s solidly unconscious or dead. I’ll keep an eye on it. Let’s get this ice broken up.”

The Defenders circle the ice, drawing in the dwarven troops to create a safe perimeter while Stone Bear, Galthia and Priggle smash away at the ice. They feel naked and exposed in their tactical position; somewhere out in the darkness of the Plaza is an embodiment of Blibdoolpoolp, and no one especially wants to face Her.

The insecurity is heightened when, suddenly, all around the edge of the pool hundreds of kuo-toa step into the range of the party’s 60’ darkvision. Then all step back, disappearing from magical vision. Then they step forward again and appear, and step back and disappear, again and again and again. A rhythmic chant echoes across the ice.

Agar shivers. “That creepy. What are they doing?”

“Let’s find out.” Malachite strides forward along the remains of the narrow bridge, accompanied with the more intimidating of the Defenders. He is met by a knot of kuo-toa carrying a squirming baby fingerling on high above their heads. The fingerling wears the Crown of Tides, which looks ludicrous upon his slimy little head.

Nolin listens to the spokesfish, then translates for the others. “He says that this is the new Sea King, divinely chosen by the Goddess Herself.” Diplomatically, Nolin and the others pay the small infant tribute by bowing respectfully. The fingerling stares at them unblinkingly. Nolin continues, “They recognize that we are here as agents of change. We may continue our excavation of the ice. In return, we have certain traditional items of the King, and we are required to give them up. In return, they offer us a gift of thanks for making the exchange.”

Malachite blinks. “So, they’re buying us off if we give them back their things and stop attacking?”

“Pretty much.”

Velendo lets out a long breath of air. “Good thing, too. I’m almost out of spells. I can’t guarantee that I’ll survive another battle. Let’s give them the damn things and take what they give us, shatter the ice and get the heck out of here.”

The exchange is made; ceremoniously, the kuo-toa spokesfish brings forward an ornate chest. He hands it to Malachite, who returns a scepter and a shield taken from Blel-Plibbit. The royal fingerling continues to stare at the group as if searing their appearance into its tiny brain. Surreptitiously, Stone Bear slips the two fingerlings left in his pockets back into the pool. Finally the kuo-toa royal entourage withdraws, but the kuo-toa circling the Glass Pool continue to step in and out of the water.

“Can we get them to stop that?” asks Tao, annoyed. Nolin shrugs.

“Some sort of religious observance marking the passing of a King. Hey, what's in the chest?"

Malachite opens it, and stares. "Hundreds of gems." He empties them into a bag of holding, where they mix with aging pieces of beef jerky and other emergency supplies. "Priggle, how are we doing over there?”

“Almost there!” yells Priggle from deep within the block of ice. His pick has combined with Galthia’s unnaturally effective blows to shear off large sections of ice. “If there’s anything in here, we should be able to. . .”

Water geysers out of the hole, and Priggle’s voice is abruptly cut off as he is thrown violently upwards.

“Free!”

An ancient crone rises from the ice on legs of twisting water. She shakes her head as if clearing away the detritus of centuries, and droplets of water fly off in a spray of rainbow radiance. “Who are you? Who am I?” Her voice is shaky, but it is strong – the inexorable strength of tides and waves. With a flick of her hand, walls of water rise up around the pool, and time itself seems to slow to a crawl.

She pauses, as if listening to something beyond the hearing of the Defenders.

“I know who you are. The tides have whispered their tales to me.” She turns to Mara. “Did you truly plummet from air to sky, through a boat? How remarkable.” She turns to Nolin. “You once called the water into the throat of a woman named Clith, and kissed its sister on the shores of an island. The ocean hasn’t forgotten.”

Mara replies humbly, eyes downcast. “Yes, my lady.” Nolin echoes her statement. Even as they watch, the crone’s eyes shift like a storm at sea, and her watery body begins to grow younger.

“I am called Céann, daughter of Queen Olhydra herself, caller of brine. I am finally free of the winter’s curse that bound me, and now…” Her voice exults. “I dance through the oceans again. You made this possible, for while it had been foreseen that you would pass this way, freeing me was not an inevitable certainty. Once again, you have become a kerngrun, and you can choose.

Shall I prophesize for you?”

Nolin groans, but Velendo nods seriously. “Yes, please. We freed you at the behest of your sister, but we would value your wisdom.” Céann cocks her head, listening to something that no one else can hear. The last of her age has fallen from her, and she is now beautiful beyond measure.

“Than I shall. The world is dark with fear and hopelessness, for it is a time of terrible change, and you are a part of all of it. You have spoken to my sister who told you of my plight. Like her, I will prophesize for you three times, and answer a question. I can bring healing rest to the wounded, cures for a suffering land, options for those who have lost hope. I can bring words of hope, so that you may seize a victory that may soon be denied to you. Let us see…

“First, words of the past, and of a people whose fate you have touched. You have met Kellharin the Guardian. He has passed in the time with no magic, and the Ebon Door is now unguarded. The ghouls know of this, perhaps foresaw it, but their attention is still concentrated elsewhere. If the dwarves can be warned, there is still time to replace him, for his line is ended and a new one may be built.

“And further on, those caverns will ring with light and the sound of metal, and a fire that has never been known before to the new inhabitants. The same may be said of the Kingdom of Silversoul, or the ancient city of Mrid. The dwarves who have faded from the world may be reborn, taking new breath, shaking the foundations of the earth – but only if you choose. The way is strange, even when it opens.

“Now, words of the present. You do not know it, but your people are starting to die. Forests are wilting, children sickening, animals passing into the world of spirits; it starts above, and will pass only slowly into this world of caverns. This is because the Goddess has fallen, and through her death as many things are worsened as they are improved. Aeos did not remember that even the most wicked have responsibilities suited to them, and those responsibilities must be fulfilled. Over the next month that will become uniquely clear to those that can read the signs.

“I will tell you the simple cure, though. The sickness can not be removed by traditional clerical magic, but it can be burned away by the searing flame of faith. Tell this to your people as soon as you can, and lives will be saved. I can not tell you if those lives may make a difference, but I like to believe they can.

“And then, words of that which is yet to come. The White Kingdom is crippled compared to what it was, but it is an injury anticipated and engineered for a greater purpose. The weak have been purged. The strong survive and change. The storm still rages for a short time more; when it fades, the doors may be opened and the feast of the victor soon consumed. This is a meal of the Celebrant, and the food will be fought over viciously, a foolish school of fish jockeying for the finest scrap of worm-laden hook. Who can bite through the line and swallow the worm, hook and all? The Ivory King can, that is certain, but that is an event that the world shudders to consider. His mind is hidden by the breath of his mother, but he is foul beyond reckoning, and greater power would not favor the people you love.

“It is good to remember: his mother chose not to give birth to him, for even she saw what he might become. And tell me, what would the Goddess of the Crawling Darkness find abhorrent, hmm?

“So perhaps you will make choices, and those choices will echo forwards to reshape and heal the world, alone or inescapably bound together, one to another. Fair and the foul may look alike in the darkness, so think beyond the shape, and remember that responsibility can be a punishment as well as a gift.

“Finally, take heart. There is a Balance, but it has tipped towards you. In Imbindarla’s death there was destruction, and there will be plague – but many thousands more would have been consumed by the creatures that you have destroyed. Temples will fall, but millions more people will rediscover true faith. In your quest there is both physical and spiritual danger, but you have struck fear in the unbeating heart of one who was always fearless, and now he struggles to complete his plan before you arrive.”

Malachite smacks one fist into his other hand, and he turns his head upwards. Tears of joy dance in his eyes, and his face is twisted into a rare smile of triumph and hope. It is a delight to behold.

One by one, Céann turns towards individual Defenders. “Galthia, I am pleased to see that my sister’s gift gave you pleasure. You have a decision before you that I do not envy.

“Stone Bear, you are wrong when you believe that you have descended into hell. You soon will, though, and you will see what your ancestors have seen when they offended the spirits of their ancestors. Draw on their wisdom, but do not trust to all advice. Everyone has their own causes, and some are darker than others.

“Agar, you…” She swallows. “You will need to be strong, and wise. The challenge of a marriage is not a physical challenge, and yet it can kill all the same.

“Tao, you have a harder choice than any. The world has changed, but your Goddess has been blamed by some who preferred things as they were. Your religion will soon be under attack, and you will need the Knights of the Horn united to weather the tide. Soon you will feel in your heart the wilt of the Al’Quith, and when that time comes you must balance your friends, your family, your Goddess and your home – and make a decision that serves all best.”

Around the edge of the pool, living forms of water fountain outwards. Beyond the walls of water, faint screams can be heard. “What’s that?” asks Velendo, startled.

“The beginning of revenge. Now, you have also struck a blow against the pretender Blibdoolpoolp, She who dared imprison me and still reap my wisdom against my will. You have punished, so I will reward. What would you have, that is in my power to give? I can answer any one question that you like. You know them as well as I, but my time here is not long.”

She smiles radiantly. “The choice of question is never easy, for it says much of the questioner. While you consider, I have a second gift that is within my power to grant. I may transport each of you somewhere there is water that you have been before, but nowhere else. I may bring you to your homes, if you wish to turn back. Many would not blame you. I can not bring you someplace that you have never seen with your own eyes, or the sight of your own heart.” she looks at Stone Bear. “I can also look forward and grant you a gift that will return you home when you need to go. You merely must decide.”

Mara considers. “So, we can use your gift to return to wherever we want, whenever we want? We can use it to get out of here when our task is done?”

Céann nods. “So long as your destination contains flowing water. My gift will fade in time, but it should last until you finish your quest, for any who survive.”

Nolin spreads his hands while his friends mentally confer about Céann’s question. “Thank you, Lady. This is kindness.”

“No more than you have shown me. My time here grows short, and there are much destruction that still awaits.” Another wave of huge water elementals clamber from the pool, splashing into the plaza outside. “Have you decided?”

Malachite nods. “We have.”

To be continued…

 

[Piratecat]

“We wish to know about the plans of the Ivory King.”

Céann’s body darkens, as if a shadow has passed across it. “He seeks to devour his mother and become as a God himself. Other Godlings wish the same, fighting like barracuda over scraps of flesh, but He has the means to reach his goal. Even now, he works to gain access to his Mother’s flesh. Should he eat enough of it, he hopes to devour her divine spark, and thus boost himself into the heavens. This would be a terrible thing for the world indeed.”

A communal sigh issues from the group. This time, Malachite doesn’t look happy. “I knew it,” he mumbles.

“He has called all to him, and the ghouls swarm to be with their master. He will draw upon them at the last. More than just you seek to stop him, but few are in a position to succeed.”

“How soon?”

“Within the week. Less, almost certainly. You have not been fast enough, and his plans reach completion.”

“How far are we away from Nacreous if we continue at our current pace?”

“Two weeks or more.”

A glimmer of an idea forms in Velendo’s eye, and he and Malachite exchange glances. “How far if we wind walk sixteen hours a day, all of us, straight there?”

Agar shakes his head. “Malachite, we can’t…” The paladin cuts him off with a commanding gesture.

“How far?” he demands of Céann.

She shrugs, ripples coursing through her body. A fish-like scream echoes distantly through the surrounding wall of water. “If you do not become lost or distracted? Three days. One amongst you can divine the way.” She points to Stone Bear, and the shaman feels his death spirit Elder uncoil within him.

I can sense the way, Elder confirms, when seen through your senses. I can guide you, and guide you truly. The darkness is calling.

Stone Bear nods. “I think I can guide us, if I’m not being lied to.”

Oh, no, chuckles the shadowy form of Elder. I will guide you truly.

Velendo turns to the others. “If we reduce our numbers to the bare minimum, I think we can do it.”

"Do we return to the surface and go directly to Imbindarla's corpse - wherever that is - or hurry onwards to Nacreous?" They discuss this for a while, and take a vote. Since it is easy to return to the surface but difficult to return to the underdark, the group decides to continue onwards to Nacroeus. If they need to, they can use Céann's gift to return to the surface and deal with the divine corpse.

“We’ll have to do something about the dwarves.”

“Not a problem. They need to be messengers. If sending still isn’t working, only our troops can carry the message about how to cure the plague. Whatever it means, getting that information out quickly may save numerous lives. I suggest we have them carry notes and send them off to as many temples as we can between Eversink, Gaunt and Corsai. They can also carry word of our progress to date.”

Splinder nods. “A fine idea. Some of my boys are well traveled, so we have some options. They’ll be sorry to miss the end of things, but they’ll follow orders.” He harrumphs. “As long as they end up with a proper share of loot…?”

“Of course.” Malachite sounds almost insulted, but Splinder chuckles.

“Best to have these things spelled out ahead of time. I have a different path for myself.”

Mara turns from Grgl to the dwarf. “Splinder, what’s that?” Behind her, without Mara to act as buffer, Tao and Grgl exchange hateful glances.

Splinder sighs. “You heard what she said about the Ebon Gate. I’m going to do what I should have done when we first heard about the place. I’m going to go assume the mantle of guardian.”

Nolin blinks. “Splinder, you’re going to be dooming yourself to an eternity in dark and lonely caves!”

The dwarf leans on his axe and raises one eyebrow. “Then you better win, and find me some dwarven settlers to keep me company, eh? If you fail, I’ll be needed as a bulwark to keep back the ghouls. In any case, it’s what’s best for everyone. It’s a sacrifice I’ll gladly make.”

“Splinder,” says Tao, “we’ve known each other for years. We fought the Imbindarlites on top of Tovag Baragu together, we rode lizards across the desert together. It’s worth saying that I’m proud of you.”

The dwarf winks. “Don’t fret, lass. I get the boring job. You still have the hard work ahead of you.” Everyone else is silent, and more than one person claps Splinder on the back before he goes over to talk to his troops. Then, without long goodbyes or particular, the sturdy dwarf dissolves into a cascade of silvery water.

“What about Grgl?” asks Mara, concerned.

“Mara, we don’t have space on the wind walk. I’m afraid he’s going to have to stay.”

“No! He terribly loyal to me, and he won’t be any bother. He’s not evil, he’s just enthusiastic. Can’t we take him?” Grgl, sensing that the incomprehensible conversation is about him, looms menacingly near Mara.

“Our enemies might find him,” worries Nolin.

“We can’t, Mara,” says Malachite. “We’re down to the bare minimum. If we take Luminor, we can’t take Grgl.” Mara stratches out a hand to touch her war horse’s neck, and sighs. She turns to the lovestruck formorian giant.

“Grgl, I’m going to have to leave you again. I have a tremendously important mission for you, though.”

“No! Grgl come with love! Grgl fight evil woman for right!” He shakes his club at Tao, who is clearly more than happy to oblige him. Mara steps between them again.

“But this is important! I need you to guard our back, and tell people lies about where we are going.”

The giant looks heartbroken, in a hideous and malformed sort of way. “Grgl can lie good.” His voice makes it obvious that this is not exactly correct.

Nolin shakes his head. “This isn’t going to work,” but Mara’s eyes light up.

“Grgl, you kill any undead you come across, but don’t tell anyone that we’re continuing on by foot. Okay?”

The huge giant nods sadly. “Grgl not tell no one that you charging forward.” He knocks his huge head into the ground between her feet. “Come back to me.”

Mara touches him lightly. “Go with peace, and do good.”

Céann emerges from her reverie and speaks. “My time here fades, for I have much to make right after my absence. Drink from my hands, and receive my gift.” Céann’s watery body bends over, and everyone takes a sip from the icy fluid that suddenly appears in her cupped palms. “And thus you receive my gift. May it carry you far from here, and may you find success. That is hidden from me in the currents of uncertainty, but I will know.” And with that, Céann’s body drops unceremoniously into the pool, and the shielding walls of water drop as well. The Plaza nearby is littered with dead kuo-toa, and dozens of faintly phosphorescent elder water elementals tread back and forth as they hunt down and destroy the creatures that held their mistress captive. One nearby has a dead kuo-toa floating inside of it.

“Hey, there you are!” From across the plaza a voice calls in common, and the half-orc explorer Shaw sprints towards them. He pants to a halt. “Some visit this turned out to be!”

Stone Bear looks at him with shadowed eye sockets. “How is it that you’re still alive?”

Shaw looks surprised. “I was having a nice visit with the King before everything went to Hades. This your doing?”

“Yes, more or less.”

Shaw looks impressed. “You don’t fool around. Listen, there’s no ghoulish ambassador here as far as I know, but there IS a mind flayer emissary from the nearby city of Tothokkil. There’s also a whole lot of slaves being kept under the palace.” The group quickly agrees on strategy; all the dwarven troops will go with Shaw to retrieve and escort the human slaves out of glubyal. Once they are safely on their way to Akin’s Throat, the dwarves will use Céann’s gift to deliver their hastily written messages. Meanwhile, the core of the defenders will speed towards Nacreous and the Ivory King.

Shaw grins, his small tusks prominent in the faint gray light. “I’d love to meet up with you again and hear what happens. Good luck.”

“Thanks.” The Defenders reluctantly take their leave of the steadfast dwarves and hustle away from the palace, leaving the royal plaza of Glubyal behind them as they continue on their way.

“Say,” asks Nolin conversationally as they pass the newly-created lobster tree, “how the heck do we get out of here?” Everyone groans.

Tao considers, and makes a snap decision. She darts forward and clobbers a kuo-toa who happens to be running by. “You!” she spits. “We’re leaving. You’re telling us how.” Easily cowed, the kuo-toa explains how there are old evacuation tunnels along the northern edge of the city that might be useful. Suddenly, Galthia reels backwards.

“Mind flayer.” Galthia’s face is torn by a rictus of hate.

“Keep going,” urges Priggle. “We don’t have a lot of resources left.” They make their way back to the gate and the tunnel there.

“You can swim?” asks the captive kuo-toa.

“No.” Galthia shakes him. “We’re going to need a barge that can travel beneath water.”

“We’ll have to get one!”

“Then we will. We’ll be right back, guys.” With one hand still firmly griping the back of the unarmed kuo-toa’s harness, Tao and her prisoner dive into the canal. The rest of the Defenders stand around nervously at the edge of the canal, waiting for her to return.

Why are you waiting here? asks an insidious voice in Malachite’s head that sounds like tentacles scraping against silk. You can swim and breath underwater. Dive in and help her. Unthinkingly, Malachite obeys. His armored body immediately sinks out of sight.

“Malachite!” Velendo’s panicked thoughts sound over the mindlink. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t worry,” answers Malachite calmly. “I can swim.” He opens his mouth to take a breath, and water rushes in. Knowing that he can breath water, Malachite inhales the canal water, and loses consciousness within seconds.

“He says he can breath water,” explains a confused Velendo with a shrug. “Malachite? Malachite?” Nothing. “Crap!”

From somewhere behind him, Galthia feels an insidious titter in the back of his head.

“It’s the mind flayer.”

“We’ve got to get him out!”

Stone Bear dives into the water. His spirit sight instantly spots the drowning Radiant Knight, whose spirit is battering against the confines of flesh to leave the body; clearly, he’s almost gone. The shaman grabs him and tries to lift him, but the armor if heavy. Let him die, advises Elder, but the shaman perseveres. With help from the others above, Malachite is hauled up onto dry land seconds before he otherwise would have died. Velendo uses his last healing spell to bring the unconscious paladin back to awareness.

“What happened?” asks Malachite, once he finishes vomiting dirty canal water from his lungs.

“Mind flayer again,” explains Galthia tersely. “It’s still back there somewhere.”

“Accursed squid heads!” Malachite is furious as he struggles to his feet, head pounding and stomach roiling. “You out there, creature?”

“You are not welcome in Tothokkil, cattle,” the whispered voice keens. “Unless you will serve us. A favor needs doing. Will you do it?”

“I will kill you. Is that the favor?”

“Then the way is sealed against you, brainsnack. Would you like to go swimming again?”

Malachite restrains himself with icy force of will, even as Galthia reports that he can’t spot the hiding illithid. “And here comes Tao in a barge. It’s time to go.”

“This isn’t over.”

The illithid sounds amused. “Certainly not.”

Fifty minutes later, the group has found the old tunnels that they were told of. They scuttle the barge and rip off the ancient rusty grate that protects the tunnel. Crawling upwards through a narrow stone chute, they eventually find themselves in an empty cistern at the confluence of four tunnels. It isn’t comfortable, but it’s dry and free of everything but a beetle or two.

“I don’t even have any spells left to give us shelter,” laments an exhausted Velendo. “We’re going to sleep on the stone for the first time in an age.”

“I don’t care,” says Agar. “This day feels like it has lasted for months. We started with being washed down the tunnel! It’s hard to believe everything that has happened. And now we’re past Glubyal, which is badly destabilized.”

Malachite nods. “And we’re on to the end game. We’ll have to be ready for it.”

Silence. Eventually, snores. And the night passes uneventfully.

To be continued…

 

[Piratecat]

Wow, is the end really that close?

I think I missed something... where did the half-orc come from, and who is he?

They ran into the half-orc just before they entered Glubyal. He's a horizon walker, albeit of much lower level than the PCs. You might remember him as the guy who said "Oh, sure, I marched with the modrons. Best adventure I ever went on! Got some fantastic treasure, and I had a great time." Not that I'm bitter or anything... nope.

Shaw entered Glubyal the day before the Defenders did, and for some time they suspected him of betraying them and arranging for the water trap.

And yup, they're fairly close to Nacreous at this point. The only major barrier is the mindflayer cty of Tothokkil. Nothing is ever easy, though; there may be a few surprises.

 

[Piratecat]

It is a sore, chilly, tired group of adventurers who awake the next morning. Their jubilation at surviving the brutal fights of the previous day is tempered by the knowledge that they’ll facing the Ivory king within the next few days. “I can’t believe it’s actually going to happen,” remarks Velendo as he chews on a piece of dried salt pork for breakfast. “We’re not even close to ready. We’re going to get crushed.”

“I fully expect to die,” remarks Malachite with uncharacteristic light-heartedness. “But did you hear Céann? Velendo, she said that something is going to come after. It isn’t destined to all end here. At least some of us might survive. We’re doing the right thing, at the right time. I can live with that.” He settles back against the wall of the cistern, chewing his salt pork as if it were filet mignon. Crouching beside him, the bullywug gladiator Burr-Lipp flicks beetles off the wall with his long adhesive tongue.

Agar stands up to stretch, then keels over backwards; his familiar Proty launches himself into the air in agitation. Tao manages to catch the halfling, and Agar’s eyelids flutter. When he sits back upright, his face is white. “Ooh. I didn’t like that at all.”

“A vision? What did you see?”

“I was standing knee-deep in black slime. I was in daylight, and it must have been winter, because the icy cold was worse than anything else I’ve ever felt before. I was staring at a pile of empty chains, and I was horribly afraid of what was behind me.” He looks around, eyes latching onto the shaman. “I could hear Stone Bear nearby, whispering to himself, but with the sound of the sunlight you couldn’t make out what he was saying.”

“Sound of the sunlight?”

Agar nods. “It was roaring, like an ocean storm.”

Everyone exchanges a glance. “You know the legend,” recites Nolin. “Before mankind, the world was made of wurms, and the Gods banished them from our sight. Those were what Dale Greldin and the church of Imbindarla had been trying to free a few years ago with the comet. The Gods missed two of them; and these they bound in chains of sunlight and left for all eternity.” His voice has taken on a sing-song quality as he remembers the old tale. “When Imbindarla died, all magic ceased. Do you think…?”

“That one or both of those wurms are free?” finishes Velendo grimly. “I hope not. There isn’t a whole lot we could do about them, if it took the gods themselves to bind them the first time.”

“Just the same,” considers Mara, “I think I’ll mention them in my prayers tonight. In case someone is listening.”

Soon they have cast wind walk, and the group is flying swiftly through narrow tunnels. They are guided only by Priggle’s innate direction sense and Stone Bear’s spirit guide as they roar through tiny crevices and jagged chasms. Velendo surreptitiously casts find the path to confirm that Elder is correctly guiding them, and is gratified to find that the shaman’s death spirit seems to be taking the most direct route.

In the mid-morning, Agar experiences a second vision. He sees a tall woman as she sheathes a heavy sword into a paper sheath. She is clad in rainbows, her sleek hair is pulled severely back from her face, and the icy smile on her lips doesn’t quite touch her eyes. In some odd way she makes him think of a smug otter, fast and slick and so very satisfied about something. Not one thing on her is out of place – not a single hair, not a facial expression, not a fold of her clothing. She is made of distinct angles, as if she was carved or chiseled instead of born, and she is beautiful. The line where her body stops is painfully obviously, almost rimmed in light, making her look somewhat as if she is superimposed on the scene. She strides through a dispersing gray cloud, and the people around her on one knee slowly sicken and fall over. She doesn’t notice.

The mutilated dead body she leaves behind her looks like that of a badly charred halfling. A minute before, Agar knows, she caught a falling, flaming star that thought it could be more than it already was. Then the vision ends.

“Everyone!” yells Agar as he rushes to catch up with the rest of the wind walking adventurers. “We need to talk!”

They pause beside a cavern of pencil-thin stone pillars and get a drink while they consider the vision. “Who is she?” asks Nolin. "She doesn’t fit in with any mythological or historical figure that I can remember.”

Velendo drums his fingers on his shield. “The disease she’s leaving behind her makes me think of Yorrine, the God of plague. In particular, the reference to a halfling makes me think of Yuute, that little bastard who we dealt with in Eversink.” Stone Bear turns his gaze questioning to the old cleric, and Velendo elaborates. “I think he was some sort of a demigod or proxy. With the help of Calphas’ gift, I sent him plummeting to the center of the earth. Only the high priest Dale Greldin and a Torazian deathgranter have also had that done to them.” He pats his shield, which also acts as a talisman of pure good against enemies of the faith.

“That was when we turned Malachite into a tapeworm!” Nolin snickers rudely.

Malachite nods, unsmiling. “It certainly was. Perhaps that is why the halfling in the vision is burning and charred. Or it could be that it symbolizes Imbindarla’s fall to earth.”

Agar wrinkles his nose and pats Proty. "I just hope the halfling in the vision wasn't me."

“But who is the woman?” asks Tao.

“Let me think about it,” says Nolin, and casts the spell improvisation. He focuses the entire spell effect into his knowledge of religious and historical legends, and suddenly he sits bolt upright. “There’s one possibility. You know that Deifos is the God of Law, and our friend Claris worships Deifos’ son Vindus, God of Vengeance and Retribution. This woman might be associated with Vindus in some way. I heard a garbled legend two years ago mentioning that he had a servant who might fit that description, but there weren’t any details.”

“Hrmm,” muses Velendo. “So what would the God of Vengeance want with a demigod of disease?” He throws his hands in the air and looks skyward. “I don’t suppose you want to give us any answers, do you? Instead of these damn riddles?” He looks disgusted and begins to turn back into mist. “Time is fleeting. We can talk about it while we fly.”

The wonders of the underdark rush past too quickly to be properly appreciated. Forests of massive mushrooms… a lava-filled chamber with vast platforms dangling by chains from the ceiling… caves filled with shining stone and glittering gems. An abandoned city of drowish design, now flooded by an underground river. A massive waterfall thundering into the depths of the earth. And miles upon miles of twisting, suffocating, claustrophobic tunnel. By the time the group stops to rest that night, they estimate that they’ve gone dozens of miles and saved at least a week of travel.

“We’ve only had to backtrack a few times,” remarks Priggle as he pulls his high stool up to the dining table in the Flickering Needle. “I think we’re doing pretty well. Thanks, Stone Bear.” Mouth full of stew, the shaman nods.

Nolin pokes his food and takes an appreciative bite. “We’re lucky to have a Daern’s Instant Fortress that comes with its own magical cook,” he comments. “It’s amazing what Mary can do with salt pork and stale biscuits. But I do miss the comfortable castle.”

He’s interrupted by a resounding CLANG on the outside of the metal tower. The sound of the impact reverberates from room to room, and the food is abandoned as the Defenders rush to the tower’s roof and front door to see what made the noise.

That sounds familiar, thinks Nolin to himself. That sounded like… He reaches the roof and looks over the edge. He catches sight of a lanky figure sitting on the ground rubbing his head, and the wooden outgrabe floating above the stone nearby. Uncharacteristically, Nolin begins imagining all the ways he could kill him from up here. He shakes his head to clear it.

“Dylrath?” Nolin blinks in surprise. “Dylrath!” Then the figure looks up at him, and Nolin realizes it isn’t Dylrath; it’s the demigod Teliez, teenaged son of the God of Murder, and he doesn’t look good.

Teliez looks up at the top of the tower and lets out a frustrated whine. “Let me in!”

“No!” shouts Nolin. “What have you done with Dylrath?” Seeing the floating wooden outgrabe that is one of Dylrath’s favorite toys, Nolin feels panic bubbling up inside of him. “Did you steal that, or kill him for it?”

Teliez has dark blood trickling down his face, and he stares blankly at the bard for a few seconds. “What, this? He gave it to me. Now open up and let me in! I need sanctuary!”

Mara scowls. “Sanctuary? From what?” She blinks, and suddenly the beaten and battered teenager is standing on the roof of the tower next to her. Thinking quickly, Agar casts his powerful spell truth conversion and listens in on the conversation.

“Haven’t I always favored you? I help your friend, I helped defeat Greldin at the battle of Tovag Baragu, and I’ve turned from my promised role aiding the God of Murder. You thank me by throwing me out a gate into an unpassable desert. And now all I ask is some protection.” He shivers, and it’s apparent that he’s in bad shape; his fine clothing is ripped and dirty, and he looks like he’s been beaten within an inch of his life. Exhausted, he drops to his haunches. “I just need a few minutes, then I can go.”

“True,” thinks Agar. “I’ll let you know when he tells a lie.”

“Oh, for crying out…” Velendo rolls his eyes. “Let me heal you.”

“No!” Teliez jumps back to his feet, acne-pocked face pale. “I’m seething with negative energy. You’d be hurt.” At this, Malachite and Mara take a step closer and half-draw their weapons.

“And why,” Malachite says calmly, “are you seething with negative energy?”

Teliez gives him a filthy look. “Because I’m trying to save things. I’m trying to assume Her portfolio before anyone else has a chance to. But it’s… hard…” He gasps. “And that bitch isn’t making it any easier.”

“Who?”

“Halcyon. She’s the daughter of Vindus and some mortal slut. She’s a bully, and she’s trying to kill anyone who plans on assuming Imbindarla’s place. She’s already slain at least two others, and now she’s after me.” He grins humorlessly. “I figured I’d come ask the most powerful friends I have if they’d offer me any help. I need it.”

“All true,” worries Agar over the mindlink.

“Friends. Huh.” Mara can’t believe what she’s hearing. “And you’ve brought her HERE?”

“She cornered me, and I just barely escaped.” A crackle of darkness coruscates up his sallow face, and he swallows, trying to control the ambient negative energy. Pain washes fleetingly across his expression, and he tries to manage a twisted grin. It turns out to be more of a grimace.

Malachite crosses his arms and considers the gangly youth. “So, you want to become the God of Undead.” His voice is heavy with unspoken emotion and warnings that Teliez completely misses.

Teliez shrugs confidently. “Who else? The Ivory King? I’ve got to be better than that fat bastard. And I’ll tell you, this whole ‘God of Adventurers’ thing that Dylrath tried to work out for me just isn’t flying. I don’t have enough worshippers. They keep dying on me.”

“Still true,” thinks Agar. “And kind of funny, in a sick sort of way.”

“So, I figured, why not God of the Undead and the crawly things in the night? There are lots of them, which means lots of power.” His voice becomes syrupy. “No more of my father telling me what to do.”

With his spell up, though, Agar hears the actual truth – and he has to fight to keep from laughing. “Umm, guys? That’s not entirely true. Actually, he wants to become God of the undead to… to… oh, my. To meet girls and get laid.”

Simultaneously, all the Defenders break into snorts of sarcastic laughter. Teliez looks confused for a minute, concentrates, and then a hateful and embarrassed expression crosses his face. “Oh, I see. Yeah, I’m hoping to meet undead girls. Not ghouls or zombies, mind you – but vampires? Vampires are sexy. They have that whole dark child of the night thing going on, and they’re hardly going to say no if I’m their patron God.” The laughing redoubles, and Teliez shouts in blazing anger. “Stop it! Stop laughing! You try having poisonous skin! You try killing everyone you touch! I touch a girl, she dies. Do you have any idea how…” His voice is plaintive, and now no laughter can be heard. “…how lonely that can make you? Never to be able to touch anything living without killing it?”

His voice is pathetic. “It’s horrible, and I’m sick of it. I killed my own mother, did you know that? I want it to stop. This may be my only chance.”

Everyone looks at him silently, some with pity and some with disdain.

Malachite snorts. “And thus, you wish to become the new Enemy.”

“Pretty much.” Teliez perks up a little as a thought occurs to him. “Speaking of which, Nolin, do you mind if I date your girlfriend?”

Nolin blinks, not yet putting two and two together. “What?”

Teliez spits on his hand and slicks back his thin hair. “You know, Telay. You know she’s a vampire.” Nolin blinks in horror, and the demigod’s voice giggles with cruel laughter. “You didn’t know she’s a vampire! Oh, yeah; a penaggalan, actually. One of those ones whose head and organs pop out of the body in the middle of the night, flying around to strangle their victims.” He demonstrates by wiggling his hands. “Telay was turned while you spent that time in Hagiok’s academy. You had already been charmed by normal vampires, and they were able to take her by surprise without you ever knowing. She left rather than see you disappointed.” Teliez’s smug grin is revolting. “Didn’t you wonder why you haven’t seen her since?”

Nolin looks at Agar, desperately hoping that Teliez is lying, but the halfling just shakes his head sadly. Malachite puts a comforting hand on Nolin’s back, but the bard stiffly brushes it off. “Sure, Teliez,” Nolin says mechanically. “If she wants to spend time with you, she’s all yours. I think she has better taste, though. Malachite?”

“Yes, Nolin?” His voice is heavy.

“If you’re ever given the opportunity, please slay Telay for me. Give her rest. She may be a sensate, but I love her, and she wouldn’t want to exist like this.”

Malachite’s voice is quiet. “I will.” Suddenly he notices that all gradiations of color have leached from the rooftop. The shadows have become sharply defined, and there is a rigid quality to every edge that was not there seconds ago. Down below them in the cavern, a rainbow flash splits apart the air.

“Oh crap,” whines Teliez. “She’s here.”

To be continued…

 

[Piratecat]

Note that the White Kingdom isn't the ultimate adventure in the campaign. We'll keep playing as long as we're having fun; I can easily foresee another six months or so of games ahead of us, minimum.

Incidentally, I've been keeping that little secret about Telay from Nolin/KidCthulhu for two or three years real-time. It was worth it.

----------------------

Here's a snippit of text from my notes on Halcyon, half-human demigod and self-appointed vigilante:

Halcyon was raised with an absolute knowledge of right and wrong, but she makes her own decisions about what is correct and what isn’t. She is an expert at working the gray areas, codifying the unknown with her own codes, straightening the muddled. She is a demigoddess of straight lines and sharp demarcations, but her rulings always favor her (and her interests) instead of other people.

When Halcyon is present, there is no gray, no flickering shadows, no blurring. Everything is a solid color, everything is a straight line and a right angle, everything is yes or no. Things are easy when you're near Halcyon; there are no moral quandries or lingering doubts. Very peaceful.

 

[Piratecat]

Were you planning all along for the party to figure out wind-walking, and/or had you figured out everything that was going to happen if they just kept mosey-ing on down and arrived after everything was all finished?

I didn't know what they'd do. They really, really surprised me by getting rid of the dwarves and going wind walking! It was a fascinating solution, and as it turned out a really clever one. I thought there was a pretty good chance that they'd go back to the surface and camp out near the body, and I was prepared for them missing the important part and having to deal with the aftermath. They picked what was behind door #3, and caught me a little off guard.

That game had a bit of "This encounter is skipped," FLING, "this encounter is skipped," FLING, as I went through my notes. I think the players were smirking, but it's hard to tell.

So how long ago (real and game time) did the pcs first encounter the White Kingdom? How long has this particular quest been building?

The PCs first killed the skaven who were praying for help against the White Kingdom in May of 1997. They met T'Cri, who strongarmed them into facing the ghouls and "breaking the spine of the White Kingdom," late in 1999. They fought the necropede in March, 2002. They actually headed underground with Priggle in July, 2002. So it's technically been a year and a half... and a long time coming.