darkhall-nestor
Explorer
Has there been a new character rolled up yet
"Second Son of a Second Son" - An Aquerra Story Hour (*finally* Updated 04/19)
el-remmen
Moderator Emeritus
Yep, and he'll be introduced in the next session.
el-remmen
Moderator Emeritus
InterSession #31.1 – "The Raymer Blood" (part 1 of 1) 1
The sun felt so close; it cast a shadow that covered the colorless landscape Markos found himself in. He stood at the prow of a barge, pushed and dragged by dozens of goblins, all in various states of death. At the front an ogre pulled a chain attached to the prow, one of its legs wobbly where a huge gash cut down to the bone. The wound was crusted over, and the bone looked like it should tear loose with each step. The wood of the hull protested as it was dragged across the gray earth, driving up a cloud of fine noxious dust that burned Markos’s lungs and obscured his vision. Was that a set of black gates in a tall stone wall off in the distance? All he could tell was that this was a land of gray and black craggy hills, dotted with white wavering trees. There was something unnerving about them.
Markos turned and saw the only other person on the barge was at the till at the stern. But no, wait… he was suddenly at the stern, too. The scene the ship departed from seemed identical to the one it approached.
“What are those trees?” Markos asked the figure. It was Laarus. The young priest of Ra was dressed in white, a gold ankh about his neck, and ashes smeared over his eyes.
“They are not trees,” his voice seemed distant, like it emerged from deep down in his body. His lips did not move. “They are the spirits of the dead, rooted to their spot, waiting…”
“Waiting for what?” Markos felt distant from his own voice, as if whatever sense of himself he had were somehow lodged more deeply into his body than his vocal cords were. Everything seemed to be framed in darkness, as if observed from within a cave or tunnel.
“To be claimed, to not be claimed… One day you shall wait as they do…” Laarus intoned.
“Even dead, you’re an asshôle…”
“Listen to me Markos… There was more to that vision…2 More that I had not seen in life, but I have seen it now and I want to show it to you… You have your mother’s blood… There is much you could see and learn and if you let go your arcane obsession…”
“Are you going to show me or lecture me?”
“Give me your hand…” Laarus reached out and took his hand, and then his very essence billowed out into a translucent spirit and was sucked into Markos’s body, and suddenly he was in a dark place… A den lit by a hearth…Rain battered the shutters:
“This is what I would like you to deliver.” The voice was Lavinia’s, but as his vision rose up from her tall elegant boots to her lavender velvet dress, instead of the soft skin of her décolletage, there was the head of a tigress. Her hand rested atop a wooden box about six inches to a side. The side of the box began to burn away revealing some kind of orange sphere beneath.
“You are not, Lavinia,” Markos heard himself say, except it is not his voice that issued from his body.
“No, I am not…”
“Stanislaw Torn,” He said and turned to see himself in the mirror above the mantleplace. He was wearing mauve watch-mage robes, but had the head of a bat, the body of a woman.
“Yes,” Lavinia said. “And trade it for the sword of Sylaire and beware the Whistling Gold…”
All went black and Markos awakened…
End of InterSession #31.1
--------------------------------------------------
Notes:
1 This was actually given to Markos’s player as a handout immediately before Session #32 began.
2 Laarus is referring to a vision he had in Session #30.
The sun felt so close; it cast a shadow that covered the colorless landscape Markos found himself in. He stood at the prow of a barge, pushed and dragged by dozens of goblins, all in various states of death. At the front an ogre pulled a chain attached to the prow, one of its legs wobbly where a huge gash cut down to the bone. The wound was crusted over, and the bone looked like it should tear loose with each step. The wood of the hull protested as it was dragged across the gray earth, driving up a cloud of fine noxious dust that burned Markos’s lungs and obscured his vision. Was that a set of black gates in a tall stone wall off in the distance? All he could tell was that this was a land of gray and black craggy hills, dotted with white wavering trees. There was something unnerving about them.
Markos turned and saw the only other person on the barge was at the till at the stern. But no, wait… he was suddenly at the stern, too. The scene the ship departed from seemed identical to the one it approached.
“What are those trees?” Markos asked the figure. It was Laarus. The young priest of Ra was dressed in white, a gold ankh about his neck, and ashes smeared over his eyes.
“They are not trees,” his voice seemed distant, like it emerged from deep down in his body. His lips did not move. “They are the spirits of the dead, rooted to their spot, waiting…”
“Waiting for what?” Markos felt distant from his own voice, as if whatever sense of himself he had were somehow lodged more deeply into his body than his vocal cords were. Everything seemed to be framed in darkness, as if observed from within a cave or tunnel.
“To be claimed, to not be claimed… One day you shall wait as they do…” Laarus intoned.
“Even dead, you’re an asshôle…”
“Listen to me Markos… There was more to that vision…2 More that I had not seen in life, but I have seen it now and I want to show it to you… You have your mother’s blood… There is much you could see and learn and if you let go your arcane obsession…”
“Are you going to show me or lecture me?”
“Give me your hand…” Laarus reached out and took his hand, and then his very essence billowed out into a translucent spirit and was sucked into Markos’s body, and suddenly he was in a dark place… A den lit by a hearth…Rain battered the shutters:
“This is what I would like you to deliver.” The voice was Lavinia’s, but as his vision rose up from her tall elegant boots to her lavender velvet dress, instead of the soft skin of her décolletage, there was the head of a tigress. Her hand rested atop a wooden box about six inches to a side. The side of the box began to burn away revealing some kind of orange sphere beneath.
“You are not, Lavinia,” Markos heard himself say, except it is not his voice that issued from his body.
“No, I am not…”
“Stanislaw Torn,” He said and turned to see himself in the mirror above the mantleplace. He was wearing mauve watch-mage robes, but had the head of a bat, the body of a woman.
“Yes,” Lavinia said. “And trade it for the sword of Sylaire and beware the Whistling Gold…”
All went black and Markos awakened…
End of InterSession #31.1
--------------------------------------------------
Notes:
1 This was actually given to Markos’s player as a handout immediately before Session #32 began.
2 Laarus is referring to a vision he had in Session #30.
el-remmen
Moderator Emeritus
Session #32 – “Assault on the Old Apshai Temple” 1
Balem, the 26th of Syet - 566 H.E. (637 M.Y.)
The Scions of Thricia were up early the next day - up before Ra’s barge pulled the sun out from deep in the underworld where it spent its nights. The day before, Tavius left with the packhorse and pony, agreeing to come back for the party in four days time and then four days after that if they did not come in one day of his waiting. He was paid a generous sum of silver and promised more on their next meeting, whether they ended up needing him or not.
Markos cast preserve food on what remained of Laarus’s corpse, his right hand and forearm, in order to return it to the Raymer Family Vaults, where the dead were entombed.
They ate sparsely and divided some of Laarus’s remaining things. Victoria was given a potion of aid the priest had in his pack. Bleys, the potion of cure light wounds.
As the sun finally came up, Victoria called the others to join her down near the dock, where they stood in a circle around what remained of their fallen companion.
“Brother Laarus,” she said. “I didn’t know you long, but saw in you a shining example of a priest of Ra. You were honest and held others to high standards. You were unbending in your faith and in your service to the King of the Gods. I am saddened by this loss, but for myself, not for you, as I know you are in His service, watching over us from Ra’s Glory as we seek justice in your name.”
The others were silent for a long while, but then Telémahkos spoke up. “Laarus was a good man who did honor to his House. We may have disagreed often, but he saved my life more than once. I shall miss his presence and will do what I can to honor his memory in my thoughts and deeds…”
“Yeah, he was unyielding in his beliefs,” Timotheus said with a much more casual tone than the others. “Sure… He’s with Ra now. But he was our shield-brother and our sword-brother, and for that we will finish in his name what we started with him.”
Bleys spoke next: “"The Glory of Ra shines ever more bright this day as He rides Matet with one of his most pious, Laarus of House Raymer. May Osiris judge him fairly. Our companion gave his life to the Charter of Schiereiland: a duty to his King, a service to the Margrave, and a most noble deed for his country. No greater sacrifice could be asked, no greater sacrifice could be made. As we go forth from this place, let us each bear the illumination of Laarus in our breast, such that we may hold to his example and deliver his light to the darkness in the old Apshai temple."
Only the croaks of frogs and the chatter of insects broke the silence before Markos finally spoke. In his shack, Katan banged against something and quickly shushed himself.
“I will be truthful,” Markos finally said, wearing his common smirk. “As that was Laarus’ best quality. He had good intentions… Unlike some… And he had flaws like all do. I may not have loved my cousin, but I respected him and had what I’d call… a growing affection for him. I will remember him. May Ra and all the gods look favorably upon him in the next stage of this existence…”
The Signers of the Charter of Schiereiland were about to end their memoriam for the fallen comrade when Markos raised his hands, gesturing for them to wait.
“Last night…” He hesitated. “Laarus’s gift of prophecy passed on to me, I had a vision last night…”2
“Or, now that he’s gone you can no longer fight the madness within you…” Telémahkos baited.
“Or, I am being manipulated somehow,” Markos speculated, smirking.
Victoria glared at them. “Enough with this banter, and you had better not making mock of this occasion. I hope you are not joking about this vision…” She clenched a fist.
“What would you do if I were?” Markos took over the baiting from Telémahkos, who stopped laughing when he saw Victoria’s face.
There was a long dreadful silence and then Markos spoke again. “But yes… I did really have a vision. In it I was accompanying Laarus to the land of the dead and he allowed me to see the rest of the vision he had the other day.3 Remember? The one where there was a tiger-headed woman with Lavina’s voice giving him a box with an orange pearl in it? Well, I saw more and heard more… Turns out the tiger-headed woman with Lavinia’s voice wasn’t Lavinia at all, but Stanislaw Torn! And he/she asked me to trade the pearl I was being given for the Sword of Sylaire… Some of you may remember the name ‘Sylaire’ from the notes we found in Dalvan’s tomb… Anyway, next thing I knew I turned and looked in the mirror, and I wasn’t me either. I was someone wearing mauve watch-mage’s robes, except I had the head of a bat…”
“Perhaps it was something you ate,” offered Bleys.
“No! It wasn’t something I ate, you condescending prick,” Markos spat. “It was an actual vision. I felt it. I saw it. I know it… Laarus communicated with me…”
Bleys nodded.
“Do you think that was your friend, Maeve the Mauve… Whatever her name is?” Markos asked the watch-mage.
“It seems likely…” Bleys replied. “She knows Lavinia…”
“Does this vision change anything we plan to do now?” Timotheus asked, impatient.
“No,” said Bleys and he and Markos moved off to confer on what spells to prepare for the day. As they talked, Markos tried to offer a deal to trade some spells, but Bleys refused to make a decision on the matter yet. Meanwhile, Telémahkos pulled Timotheus aside and expressed his wish to return to Lilly City to find a sword-master when this was all over.
“I am all for it, cousin and I will go with you,” Timotheus said. “But you know the others will be against taking the time to do so…”
A little more than an hour later they headed off. Markos, Victoria, Telémahkos and Katan led the way in the old man’s boat, while Timotheus, Bleys and Tymon rode in the one Markos conjured. A mushroom creature had been shooed onto each boat in hopes of using them to warn of the approach of any more of the deadly mosquitoes.4
“Why aren’t you riding in your own boat?” Victoria asked.
“It could disappear!” Markos answered.5
As they made their way through the deep stretches of the swamp, cleaving through the murky green, Katan let out a painful croak of a song, interrupting it only to tell Markos and Victoria, who were rowing, which way to turn. Timotheus rowed the rear rowboat on his own. The heat grew as they pierced the center of the swamp. It was unseasonable at times with lots of tiny biting insects, but mostly the morning was calm and almost beautiful, drifting through curtains of thin green flowering vines that drooped into the water. Katan had warned the young nobles that there would be a point near the middle of their trip where they would have to carry the boats across an island or two to save time. The old man pointed towards a large green island. The water around it was a churning brown from multiple streams that emptied from this island and other nearby islands. Bleys looked back and noticed a log floating some yards behind the boats. The thing was he had noticed it before and while it had seemed closer, they should long left it behind. He carefully reached over for his longbow and strung it.
Timotheus frowned. “Just keep rowing,” Bleys said to him. “I thought I saw that giant crocodile.” But Bleys lost sight of it as the boats were brought aground on the steep muddy bank of the islands. The boats were heavy and awkward to move, as they struggled to get them up on their sides to drag up, Telémahkos heard deep croaking coming from the other side of the thin frond-like trees that obscured most of the island. The croaking sounded familiar, frog-like, but too much like a voice. He drew his rapier, as Tymon and Markos began to look around, having heard it as well.
“What’s with the sword?” Tim asked his cousin, oblivious due to most of the work to move the boats falling on him.
“Bullywugs…” Telémahkos replied.
“They could just be large frogs… like the mosquitoes or the crocodile…” Victoria suggested.
“Either way they are dangerous,” Telie responded. There was a brief discussion about what to do and Telémahkos felt it was better to seek them out and fight them now, rather than to risk being attacked while carrying the boats across the island. Victoria agreed, so as the boats were pulled further up the shore to make sure they did not float back out into the bog, Telémahkos crept ahead to scout.
In order to get a good view he climbed a low hanging tree that emerged askew from a sandy bank. Up ahead, a stream cut through a larger sandy bank gurgling as it slowed and widened to a rock filled pool before narrowing again and disappearing into the bog. Vine-covered trees dotted the area. Below he saw a group of frog-men with drab-olive skin mottled with brown. They wore no armor, but carried wooden shields decorated with woven fronds, and crude spears with notched wooden heads. He saw at least four, but guess that more were about. They were beating the brush as if looking for something. Telémahkos carefully climbed back down the tree and hurried back as quietly as he could to report what he had seen.
In the meantime, the others had brought the boats up onto the embankment, and had them on their sides.
“If they are looking for something or someone, perhaps we should take advantage of the element of surprise and attack them now,” Victoria suggested.
But it was too late… “Get the boats prow to prow!” Timotheus said as he saw the green frog-men hopping out of the trees in their direction, croaking angrily. He turned to see them hopping towards him, not noticing Telémahkos hiding behind a tree between the frogs and his cousin. Bleys the Aubergine put his foot down on the edge of one of the boats to keep it in place, allowing Timotheus to draw his saber and turn fully to face the coming foes. Tymon held the other boat up, doing his best to turn it as Tim had directed, while Victoria prepared her spear, stepping around the boats on the left. The mushroom people squealed and dove into some nearby brush.
Telémahkos stepped out from behind his tree as the bullywugs hopped past and thrust his rapier through the back of one’s neck, sending it to the swampy ground in a shower of green greasy blood. 6 The other bullywugs did not slow their approach towards Tim. The first two found their spears caught on the big warrior’s bulette shield, but the third, thinking it had gotten past Tim’s defense was shocked to see his spear crack in half against the brawny man’s breastplate.7 Telémahkos moved around the other side of the three to flank the attackers with his cousin.
As the other set of wugs came around the far left side of the boat to attack Victoria and Bleys, one strayed near the bank and was suddenly gone, as the giant crocodile snapped out from within the brown murky water to trap the frog-man in its maw with one bite. After taking a missing shot an an approaching bullywug, Bleys let the boat fall and made to hop across it, but his foot got caught in one of the seats and he fell over in the middle of it.8
As Markos cast magic missile weakening one of the bullywugs Timotheus and Telémahkos had penned in, Victoria called to her god. “Anhur! Laarus’ killer has shown its maw, give us the strength to win our revenge,” she prayed, casting bull’s strength on herself.
As fear filled the bullywugs they began to grow sloppy, and one in trying to stab at Timotheus found its thrust guided by his saber into the side of its ally.8 Timotheus took advantage of the confusion, and sliced one open. He then follow through to cut its neighbor in half.9 An arrow flew out of seemingly nowhere, striking the leg of one of the frog-men from behind the melee. Telémahkos flicked his thin blade drawing green blood from one of the creatures as he dared a look back to see if he could spot its source, but he couldn’t.
“Quies! Markos cast, running fine sand between his fingers and sending a bullywug to sleep in front of the giant crocodile, dooming it to be munched on as well. Bleys stood, one foot on the boat’s gunwale and let an arrow fly right into the crocodile’s back, but its armor-like plates resisted the projectile, just as it resisted the thrust of Victoria’s spear and a bolt from Tymon’s heavy crossbow. The manservant had left old man Katan to hold up the boat, while he reloaded the thing on Telémahkos’s command. The sound of a flute came from among the trees where the mysterious arrow had come from, and as one of two remaining bullywugs turned to hop away from the chaos, it was caught by Telémahkos’s rapier in the eye instead. It collapsed, bleeding out.
The flute song had a strange disruptive rhythm that broke up its melody in an uncomfortable way, and it was echoed by the mushroom creatures, who poked their heads up to see where it was coming from. The crocodile surged, snapping at Victoria, but somehow its movements seemed to be mimicking the strange music, causing it to fall short of its prey. 9 “Rectus telum! Markos chanted and an arrow of pure acid flew from his hands to splatter on the crocodile’s neck and face. Even its roar seemed to echo the strange magical song effecting is movements. Bleys dropped his bow and drew his sword, cutting down at the thing as it passed him, aiming for the sizzling spot, his stony face demonstrating a certain satisfaction when his blade drew the reptile’s blood.
“Veneficus absentium aquom! Markos cast again, and two magic missiles slammed into the great beast’s back.
“Somebody enlarge me!” Timotheus called, but it seemed he did not really need the extra girth and strength, for he cut a huge gash in the monster as it reared up, and for a moment it struggled on its side, revealing its more tender underbelly for Victoria’s spear to penetrate.
Telémahkos fought the remaining bullywugs, turning to keep sight of the crocodile in the corner of his left eye, and finally saw the source of the arrow and the music. It was a skinny mud-covered man playing a small flute. The man stepped out from behind a tree to get a better view of the melee. The crocodile flipped back right side up and spun with a speed that belied its size, bludgeoning Timtheus painfully with its tail in the process and knocking the brawny warrior down. Victoria and Bleys flanked the thing, but most of their blows had trouble penetrating its scales.
Markos pulled a dagger and shoved it in the lower back of the remaining bullywugs It croaked in surprise and as it collapsed the mage looked up to Telémahkos who had been fighting it. “Now go get that thing!” He gestured to the croc with his chin.
But before Telémahkos could make his way to draw the melee, Tymon let go with another heavy crossbow bolt that found the bleeding burned creature’s eye, puncturing through to its brain, finally killing it. The young nobles could not suppress a cheer.
“Hail and well met!” The stranger with the flute called, making his way towards them. He had dirty blond curls plastered to his head by mud, and wore studded leather under a green tunic. Despite the dirt, he had an obvious rugged handsomeness set off by angelic shining brown eyes.
Timotheus greeted the newcomer enthusiastically, always willing to make a friend, while the others greeted, keeping a posture of wariness.
“I am Savion Gold of Collines d’Or,” the man said, holding out his hands as he approached.
“We are the Scions of…” Telémahkos began. “Yeah, yeah…” Timotheus interrupted his cousin. “The Signers of the Charter of Schiereiland…”
“We heard your music,” Victoria said, introducing herself. “At one point it seemed to ensorcell the crocodile… Thank you…”
After each of the nobles introduced themselves in turn, gesturing to Katan and Tymon, Savion explained that he was on trail of some gnolls who had kidnapped a child.
“I was on my way to Moraes Heng to see if I could find some aid,” he said. “My quarry seem to have crossed a deep bog by some kind of craft…”
“We should help him!” Timotheus turned to the others.
“If a child is in danger we should help him,” Markos agreed, but his scowl at Tim displayed an annoyance with Tim’s readiness to offer their aid to someone they did not know.
“He could be a MacHaven plant,” Bleys said.
“My thoughts exactly,” said Markos.
“Who?” Savion asked.
“No way!” Timotheus. “That would mean that MacHaven would have to know we were going to here at this time on this day and then have him wait around for us? For what…?”
Savion Gold looked back and forth among the young nobles, with an amused expression, wondering at how they spoke of him as if he weren’t’ there. He looked down at the hopping mushrooms and squinted, as if not quite believing what he saw, but he said nothing about them.
“Well, I’ll tell ya one thing, they ain’t no gnolls in these parts,” Katan spoke up. “He could be a Red Lantern assassin!”
Bleys the Aubergine cocked an eyebrow and looked to the stranger. “Tell us about these gnolls,” Markos asked, growing more suspicious.
“He is right. There are no gnolls in this bog. My companions and I tracked them all the way from Collines d’Or. They had taken a large number of human children from some villages there and we organized a posse to get them back. A few days ago we finally caught up with them nearly all of them and rescuing… most… of the children. Three escaped carrying a boy named ‘William,’ we call him ‘Wee Willie’. His brother was among those in the posse and he fell in the battle. The others decided to take the other children back to safety, but I chose to go on and try to save Willie…”
“Where is Collines d’Or?” Telémahkos asked.
“The southwestern shores of the Captured Sea…”
“That is a long way to bring children,” Telémahkos replied. “To what end?”
“We do not know for sure, but we figured they were slavers,” Savion replied, going on to ask what the Signers were doing in the Glitcheegumme.
“Could there be a connection between these insect cultists and the gnolls?” Markos speculated aloud. “Gnolls have animal heads, right?”
“Hyena,” said Timotheus. “Whatever those are.” Savion nodded.
“Is a connection really likely?” Victoria asked.
“Evil lizardfolk, insect worshipers, giant crocodiles, and now hyena heads?” Markos continued. “All of them are beasts, and so are frog-men…”
It was agreed to let Savion come with them as long as they were headed in the same direction and there was reason to think the gnolls may be connected to the cultists they were seeking out, and thus MacHaven.
“This beast slew one of our companions,” Victoria said a little later, looking down at the crocodile as Markos cut its belly open hoping to retrieve more of Laarus to bury or bring with him to the family vaults.10
“It seems you have avenged his death,” Savion replied,
“No, this is just a dumb beast,” Victoria said, anger brimming in her voice. “Vengeance shall come to those who’s evil plans caused us to come to this bog in the first place…”
…to be continued…
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Notes:
1 This session was played on Saturday, June 7th in Maplewood, NJ.
2 See InterSession #31.1
3 See Session #30.
4 See Session #31
5 There was a doubt that the boat would last long enough since Katan was so vague about how long it took to reach the island where they would have to carry the boats across a narrow island.
6 Telémahkos scored a deadly hit with a sneak attack on an attack of opportunity on the unaware bullywug.
7 The bullywug made a critical fumble: Hard Awkward Blow, Roll weapon’s damage, double and add Strength bonus. Compare this to weapon’s hardness and hps to see if it breaks.
8 Bleys failed a balance check.
9 Timotheus used his cleave feat here.
10 Remember, all that was left of Laarus was his right forearm and hand.
Balem, the 26th of Syet - 566 H.E. (637 M.Y.)
The Scions of Thricia were up early the next day - up before Ra’s barge pulled the sun out from deep in the underworld where it spent its nights. The day before, Tavius left with the packhorse and pony, agreeing to come back for the party in four days time and then four days after that if they did not come in one day of his waiting. He was paid a generous sum of silver and promised more on their next meeting, whether they ended up needing him or not.
Markos cast preserve food on what remained of Laarus’s corpse, his right hand and forearm, in order to return it to the Raymer Family Vaults, where the dead were entombed.
They ate sparsely and divided some of Laarus’s remaining things. Victoria was given a potion of aid the priest had in his pack. Bleys, the potion of cure light wounds.
As the sun finally came up, Victoria called the others to join her down near the dock, where they stood in a circle around what remained of their fallen companion.
“Brother Laarus,” she said. “I didn’t know you long, but saw in you a shining example of a priest of Ra. You were honest and held others to high standards. You were unbending in your faith and in your service to the King of the Gods. I am saddened by this loss, but for myself, not for you, as I know you are in His service, watching over us from Ra’s Glory as we seek justice in your name.”
The others were silent for a long while, but then Telémahkos spoke up. “Laarus was a good man who did honor to his House. We may have disagreed often, but he saved my life more than once. I shall miss his presence and will do what I can to honor his memory in my thoughts and deeds…”
“Yeah, he was unyielding in his beliefs,” Timotheus said with a much more casual tone than the others. “Sure… He’s with Ra now. But he was our shield-brother and our sword-brother, and for that we will finish in his name what we started with him.”
Bleys spoke next: “"The Glory of Ra shines ever more bright this day as He rides Matet with one of his most pious, Laarus of House Raymer. May Osiris judge him fairly. Our companion gave his life to the Charter of Schiereiland: a duty to his King, a service to the Margrave, and a most noble deed for his country. No greater sacrifice could be asked, no greater sacrifice could be made. As we go forth from this place, let us each bear the illumination of Laarus in our breast, such that we may hold to his example and deliver his light to the darkness in the old Apshai temple."
Only the croaks of frogs and the chatter of insects broke the silence before Markos finally spoke. In his shack, Katan banged against something and quickly shushed himself.
“I will be truthful,” Markos finally said, wearing his common smirk. “As that was Laarus’ best quality. He had good intentions… Unlike some… And he had flaws like all do. I may not have loved my cousin, but I respected him and had what I’d call… a growing affection for him. I will remember him. May Ra and all the gods look favorably upon him in the next stage of this existence…”
The Signers of the Charter of Schiereiland were about to end their memoriam for the fallen comrade when Markos raised his hands, gesturing for them to wait.
“Last night…” He hesitated. “Laarus’s gift of prophecy passed on to me, I had a vision last night…”2
“Or, now that he’s gone you can no longer fight the madness within you…” Telémahkos baited.
“Or, I am being manipulated somehow,” Markos speculated, smirking.
Victoria glared at them. “Enough with this banter, and you had better not making mock of this occasion. I hope you are not joking about this vision…” She clenched a fist.
“What would you do if I were?” Markos took over the baiting from Telémahkos, who stopped laughing when he saw Victoria’s face.
There was a long dreadful silence and then Markos spoke again. “But yes… I did really have a vision. In it I was accompanying Laarus to the land of the dead and he allowed me to see the rest of the vision he had the other day.3 Remember? The one where there was a tiger-headed woman with Lavina’s voice giving him a box with an orange pearl in it? Well, I saw more and heard more… Turns out the tiger-headed woman with Lavinia’s voice wasn’t Lavinia at all, but Stanislaw Torn! And he/she asked me to trade the pearl I was being given for the Sword of Sylaire… Some of you may remember the name ‘Sylaire’ from the notes we found in Dalvan’s tomb… Anyway, next thing I knew I turned and looked in the mirror, and I wasn’t me either. I was someone wearing mauve watch-mage’s robes, except I had the head of a bat…”
“Perhaps it was something you ate,” offered Bleys.
“No! It wasn’t something I ate, you condescending prick,” Markos spat. “It was an actual vision. I felt it. I saw it. I know it… Laarus communicated with me…”
Bleys nodded.
“Do you think that was your friend, Maeve the Mauve… Whatever her name is?” Markos asked the watch-mage.
“It seems likely…” Bleys replied. “She knows Lavinia…”
“Does this vision change anything we plan to do now?” Timotheus asked, impatient.
“No,” said Bleys and he and Markos moved off to confer on what spells to prepare for the day. As they talked, Markos tried to offer a deal to trade some spells, but Bleys refused to make a decision on the matter yet. Meanwhile, Telémahkos pulled Timotheus aside and expressed his wish to return to Lilly City to find a sword-master when this was all over.
“I am all for it, cousin and I will go with you,” Timotheus said. “But you know the others will be against taking the time to do so…”
A little more than an hour later they headed off. Markos, Victoria, Telémahkos and Katan led the way in the old man’s boat, while Timotheus, Bleys and Tymon rode in the one Markos conjured. A mushroom creature had been shooed onto each boat in hopes of using them to warn of the approach of any more of the deadly mosquitoes.4
“Why aren’t you riding in your own boat?” Victoria asked.
“It could disappear!” Markos answered.5
As they made their way through the deep stretches of the swamp, cleaving through the murky green, Katan let out a painful croak of a song, interrupting it only to tell Markos and Victoria, who were rowing, which way to turn. Timotheus rowed the rear rowboat on his own. The heat grew as they pierced the center of the swamp. It was unseasonable at times with lots of tiny biting insects, but mostly the morning was calm and almost beautiful, drifting through curtains of thin green flowering vines that drooped into the water. Katan had warned the young nobles that there would be a point near the middle of their trip where they would have to carry the boats across an island or two to save time. The old man pointed towards a large green island. The water around it was a churning brown from multiple streams that emptied from this island and other nearby islands. Bleys looked back and noticed a log floating some yards behind the boats. The thing was he had noticed it before and while it had seemed closer, they should long left it behind. He carefully reached over for his longbow and strung it.
Timotheus frowned. “Just keep rowing,” Bleys said to him. “I thought I saw that giant crocodile.” But Bleys lost sight of it as the boats were brought aground on the steep muddy bank of the islands. The boats were heavy and awkward to move, as they struggled to get them up on their sides to drag up, Telémahkos heard deep croaking coming from the other side of the thin frond-like trees that obscured most of the island. The croaking sounded familiar, frog-like, but too much like a voice. He drew his rapier, as Tymon and Markos began to look around, having heard it as well.
“What’s with the sword?” Tim asked his cousin, oblivious due to most of the work to move the boats falling on him.
“Bullywugs…” Telémahkos replied.
“They could just be large frogs… like the mosquitoes or the crocodile…” Victoria suggested.
“Either way they are dangerous,” Telie responded. There was a brief discussion about what to do and Telémahkos felt it was better to seek them out and fight them now, rather than to risk being attacked while carrying the boats across the island. Victoria agreed, so as the boats were pulled further up the shore to make sure they did not float back out into the bog, Telémahkos crept ahead to scout.
In order to get a good view he climbed a low hanging tree that emerged askew from a sandy bank. Up ahead, a stream cut through a larger sandy bank gurgling as it slowed and widened to a rock filled pool before narrowing again and disappearing into the bog. Vine-covered trees dotted the area. Below he saw a group of frog-men with drab-olive skin mottled with brown. They wore no armor, but carried wooden shields decorated with woven fronds, and crude spears with notched wooden heads. He saw at least four, but guess that more were about. They were beating the brush as if looking for something. Telémahkos carefully climbed back down the tree and hurried back as quietly as he could to report what he had seen.
In the meantime, the others had brought the boats up onto the embankment, and had them on their sides.
“If they are looking for something or someone, perhaps we should take advantage of the element of surprise and attack them now,” Victoria suggested.
But it was too late… “Get the boats prow to prow!” Timotheus said as he saw the green frog-men hopping out of the trees in their direction, croaking angrily. He turned to see them hopping towards him, not noticing Telémahkos hiding behind a tree between the frogs and his cousin. Bleys the Aubergine put his foot down on the edge of one of the boats to keep it in place, allowing Timotheus to draw his saber and turn fully to face the coming foes. Tymon held the other boat up, doing his best to turn it as Tim had directed, while Victoria prepared her spear, stepping around the boats on the left. The mushroom people squealed and dove into some nearby brush.
Telémahkos stepped out from behind his tree as the bullywugs hopped past and thrust his rapier through the back of one’s neck, sending it to the swampy ground in a shower of green greasy blood. 6 The other bullywugs did not slow their approach towards Tim. The first two found their spears caught on the big warrior’s bulette shield, but the third, thinking it had gotten past Tim’s defense was shocked to see his spear crack in half against the brawny man’s breastplate.7 Telémahkos moved around the other side of the three to flank the attackers with his cousin.
As the other set of wugs came around the far left side of the boat to attack Victoria and Bleys, one strayed near the bank and was suddenly gone, as the giant crocodile snapped out from within the brown murky water to trap the frog-man in its maw with one bite. After taking a missing shot an an approaching bullywug, Bleys let the boat fall and made to hop across it, but his foot got caught in one of the seats and he fell over in the middle of it.8
As Markos cast magic missile weakening one of the bullywugs Timotheus and Telémahkos had penned in, Victoria called to her god. “Anhur! Laarus’ killer has shown its maw, give us the strength to win our revenge,” she prayed, casting bull’s strength on herself.
As fear filled the bullywugs they began to grow sloppy, and one in trying to stab at Timotheus found its thrust guided by his saber into the side of its ally.8 Timotheus took advantage of the confusion, and sliced one open. He then follow through to cut its neighbor in half.9 An arrow flew out of seemingly nowhere, striking the leg of one of the frog-men from behind the melee. Telémahkos flicked his thin blade drawing green blood from one of the creatures as he dared a look back to see if he could spot its source, but he couldn’t.
“Quies! Markos cast, running fine sand between his fingers and sending a bullywug to sleep in front of the giant crocodile, dooming it to be munched on as well. Bleys stood, one foot on the boat’s gunwale and let an arrow fly right into the crocodile’s back, but its armor-like plates resisted the projectile, just as it resisted the thrust of Victoria’s spear and a bolt from Tymon’s heavy crossbow. The manservant had left old man Katan to hold up the boat, while he reloaded the thing on Telémahkos’s command. The sound of a flute came from among the trees where the mysterious arrow had come from, and as one of two remaining bullywugs turned to hop away from the chaos, it was caught by Telémahkos’s rapier in the eye instead. It collapsed, bleeding out.
The flute song had a strange disruptive rhythm that broke up its melody in an uncomfortable way, and it was echoed by the mushroom creatures, who poked their heads up to see where it was coming from. The crocodile surged, snapping at Victoria, but somehow its movements seemed to be mimicking the strange music, causing it to fall short of its prey. 9 “Rectus telum! Markos chanted and an arrow of pure acid flew from his hands to splatter on the crocodile’s neck and face. Even its roar seemed to echo the strange magical song effecting is movements. Bleys dropped his bow and drew his sword, cutting down at the thing as it passed him, aiming for the sizzling spot, his stony face demonstrating a certain satisfaction when his blade drew the reptile’s blood.
“Veneficus absentium aquom! Markos cast again, and two magic missiles slammed into the great beast’s back.
“Somebody enlarge me!” Timotheus called, but it seemed he did not really need the extra girth and strength, for he cut a huge gash in the monster as it reared up, and for a moment it struggled on its side, revealing its more tender underbelly for Victoria’s spear to penetrate.
Telémahkos fought the remaining bullywugs, turning to keep sight of the crocodile in the corner of his left eye, and finally saw the source of the arrow and the music. It was a skinny mud-covered man playing a small flute. The man stepped out from behind a tree to get a better view of the melee. The crocodile flipped back right side up and spun with a speed that belied its size, bludgeoning Timtheus painfully with its tail in the process and knocking the brawny warrior down. Victoria and Bleys flanked the thing, but most of their blows had trouble penetrating its scales.
Markos pulled a dagger and shoved it in the lower back of the remaining bullywugs It croaked in surprise and as it collapsed the mage looked up to Telémahkos who had been fighting it. “Now go get that thing!” He gestured to the croc with his chin.
But before Telémahkos could make his way to draw the melee, Tymon let go with another heavy crossbow bolt that found the bleeding burned creature’s eye, puncturing through to its brain, finally killing it. The young nobles could not suppress a cheer.
“Hail and well met!” The stranger with the flute called, making his way towards them. He had dirty blond curls plastered to his head by mud, and wore studded leather under a green tunic. Despite the dirt, he had an obvious rugged handsomeness set off by angelic shining brown eyes.
Timotheus greeted the newcomer enthusiastically, always willing to make a friend, while the others greeted, keeping a posture of wariness.
“I am Savion Gold of Collines d’Or,” the man said, holding out his hands as he approached.
“We are the Scions of…” Telémahkos began. “Yeah, yeah…” Timotheus interrupted his cousin. “The Signers of the Charter of Schiereiland…”
“We heard your music,” Victoria said, introducing herself. “At one point it seemed to ensorcell the crocodile… Thank you…”
After each of the nobles introduced themselves in turn, gesturing to Katan and Tymon, Savion explained that he was on trail of some gnolls who had kidnapped a child.
“I was on my way to Moraes Heng to see if I could find some aid,” he said. “My quarry seem to have crossed a deep bog by some kind of craft…”
“We should help him!” Timotheus turned to the others.
“If a child is in danger we should help him,” Markos agreed, but his scowl at Tim displayed an annoyance with Tim’s readiness to offer their aid to someone they did not know.
“He could be a MacHaven plant,” Bleys said.
“My thoughts exactly,” said Markos.
“Who?” Savion asked.
“No way!” Timotheus. “That would mean that MacHaven would have to know we were going to here at this time on this day and then have him wait around for us? For what…?”
Savion Gold looked back and forth among the young nobles, with an amused expression, wondering at how they spoke of him as if he weren’t’ there. He looked down at the hopping mushrooms and squinted, as if not quite believing what he saw, but he said nothing about them.
“Well, I’ll tell ya one thing, they ain’t no gnolls in these parts,” Katan spoke up. “He could be a Red Lantern assassin!”
Bleys the Aubergine cocked an eyebrow and looked to the stranger. “Tell us about these gnolls,” Markos asked, growing more suspicious.
“He is right. There are no gnolls in this bog. My companions and I tracked them all the way from Collines d’Or. They had taken a large number of human children from some villages there and we organized a posse to get them back. A few days ago we finally caught up with them nearly all of them and rescuing… most… of the children. Three escaped carrying a boy named ‘William,’ we call him ‘Wee Willie’. His brother was among those in the posse and he fell in the battle. The others decided to take the other children back to safety, but I chose to go on and try to save Willie…”
“Where is Collines d’Or?” Telémahkos asked.
“The southwestern shores of the Captured Sea…”
“That is a long way to bring children,” Telémahkos replied. “To what end?”
“We do not know for sure, but we figured they were slavers,” Savion replied, going on to ask what the Signers were doing in the Glitcheegumme.
“Could there be a connection between these insect cultists and the gnolls?” Markos speculated aloud. “Gnolls have animal heads, right?”
“Hyena,” said Timotheus. “Whatever those are.” Savion nodded.
“Is a connection really likely?” Victoria asked.
“Evil lizardfolk, insect worshipers, giant crocodiles, and now hyena heads?” Markos continued. “All of them are beasts, and so are frog-men…”
It was agreed to let Savion come with them as long as they were headed in the same direction and there was reason to think the gnolls may be connected to the cultists they were seeking out, and thus MacHaven.
“This beast slew one of our companions,” Victoria said a little later, looking down at the crocodile as Markos cut its belly open hoping to retrieve more of Laarus to bury or bring with him to the family vaults.10
“It seems you have avenged his death,” Savion replied,
“No, this is just a dumb beast,” Victoria said, anger brimming in her voice. “Vengeance shall come to those who’s evil plans caused us to come to this bog in the first place…”
…to be continued…
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Notes:
1 This session was played on Saturday, June 7th in Maplewood, NJ.
2 See InterSession #31.1
3 See Session #30.
4 See Session #31
5 There was a doubt that the boat would last long enough since Katan was so vague about how long it took to reach the island where they would have to carry the boats across a narrow island.
6 Telémahkos scored a deadly hit with a sneak attack on an attack of opportunity on the unaware bullywug.
7 The bullywug made a critical fumble: Hard Awkward Blow, Roll weapon’s damage, double and add Strength bonus. Compare this to weapon’s hardness and hps to see if it breaks.
8 Bleys failed a balance check.
9 Timotheus used his cleave feat here.
10 Remember, all that was left of Laarus was his right forearm and hand.
handforged
First Post
A BARD! Whoa, that is certainly going to change things up a bit from stern old Laarus. We'll see what happens I guess. Markos inheriting the visions will also be a neat twist.
~hf
~hf
el-remmen
Moderator Emeritus
Session #32 – “Assault on the Old Apshai Temple” (part 2 of 2)
Later as Timotheus started work on skinning the crocodile (quickly realizing it would take much longer than they had), Markos prepared a spell in place of one he had readied that morning.1 They finished carrying the boats across the mucky ground and then continued deeper into the bog on the other side. Timotheus, Bleys and Victoria rode in the magical boat, while Telémahkos, Markos, Tymon, Savion and Katan rode in the larger boat, along with a great deal of gear and Tim and Victoria’s armor.
The foliage grew even thicker and their progress slowed as they often raised the oars to push aside brush as they went by. About two hours after getting past the island where they fought the bullywugs the mushroom creatures began to sing, and Katan began to holler his hatred of their song. “Ya nasty varmints! You’ll call the creatures of the swamp down on us!”
“You are making more noise then they are,” Victoria said.
“Light the cigars! Light the cigars!” Markos called and Katan obeyed. In the rear boat, Bleys did the same. They all heard the buzzing of the giant mosquitoes momentarily, but it passed without their coming into view.2
When the danger was past, Markos had fun getting the mushrooms to harmonize with him on bawdy sailor’s song, annoying everyone, but Katan most especially.
As they passed one last long stretch of deep still green bog water, Markos called out to those in the rear boat, “The spell may be ending soon, so that boat might be disappearing!”
“How will we know?” Timotheus called back.
“When you fall into the water,” Markos replied. And a few moments later, about 100 yards short of the mossy shore of an island thick, the conjured boat disappeared, sending Bleys, Timotheus and Victoria into the water.
“You fool,” Telémahkos cursed Markos.
“Race you!” Timotheus said to Bleys, and the two of them made a beeline for the shore, Bleys’s finer swimming stroke edging out the strength pulling Timotheus in great ragged yanks across the water.
Timotheus pulled himself out of the water laughing and then reached down to help Victoria out as well and later grabbed the prow of Katan’s and helped pull it ashore.
This was a lush island, green and covered in tall broad blades of wavy grass that leaned over each other in humps and waves. It rose up in rounded hills that built upon each other, leaving a winding path of grass-choked valleys that had clearly been hacked through with machetes. Katan explained that the last time he had passed through this area there had been no path and the way up to the overgrown shrine was a difficult passage. Savion asked that the others stood where they were while he went to the edge of the hacked path and checked for tracks.
In the meantime, the others discussed what to have Katan do. Bleys felt he should come back in two days and told the man as much, and the others quickly agreed. Since the matter was decided, he moved up to observe Savion looking for tracks, asking a few key questions about how such things were done.
“It may be there is another way out of here, so if we are not here waiting in two days forget it,” Bleys said, handing the man some coins. “But we shall find a way to send you due payment.”
The Scions of Thricia, with their new companion and manservant in tow, began to make their way up the path. Savion said he had found several sets of tracks overlapping each other, including those of lizardfolk and some he was sure were made by the gnolls he had been tracking. Timotheus led the way, followed by Bleys and Tymon. Then came Savion, Telémahkos, and Markos. Victoria took up the rear of the line. The grass was slick and often their booted feet sunk down into the soft loam below as it was impossible to know exactly where they were stepping. The grass was tall and thick, like tight blooming ferns creating a thick green wall to either side of them, and forcing them to go directly along the path.
“Look! Canoes!” Victoria called to the others. Everyone else had walked past them without noticing, but there were three large canoes tucked into a ditch at the roots of some of the grass on the right side. The canoes were painted green and brown and blended easily with the background. “Markos, make sure to mark this place in your memory so that we might find them again on the way back,” the militant said.
The tanned mage walked back and looked to where she pointed and then made an exaggerated expression as if he were straining, putting his right hand to his temple. “It is memorized,” he said to Victoria with a smirk, and rolling his eyes he turned as everyone else continued to walk.
“What do lizardfolk need with canoes?” Timotheus asked.
“The gnolls might have used them,” Savion suggested.
“And MacHaven’s Brood,” added Bleys.
They had marched perhaps thirty minutes when Timotheus stopped short. “Gnolls!”
There were three tall humanoids wrapped in studded leather armor and holding long recurved bows. They had red-furred hyena faces with long toothy snouts and large eyes. Savion rushed forward and winced as an arrow cut him deeply across the forearm as he reflexively raised his arm to deflect it, dropping to one side to pull and arrow from his quiver.
“I’ll keep them tied up!” Timotheus called, rushing forward, ignoring the arrows narrowly missing him as he advanced, hacking at one of the hyena-headed men. It leapt back, deftly fitting another arrow to its bow as it did, giving a sharp barking call to its two companions.
Bleys moved up and then squeezed into the thick press of the tall broad grass letting an arrow loose that caught one of the gnolls in the calf, before springing out, advancing and firing again, this time the gnoll barked in deeper pain. Meanwhile, the three of them kept deftly avoiding Timotheus, managing to withdraw just enough to fire arrows that only shattered uselessly against the bulette shield. Telémahkos ran up and supported his cousin, screaming for Victoria to aid him, but the militant was not as fleet of foot in her scale armor, and had been trailing the line. Markos kept hidden, slowly advancing by hiding behind different lumps of the fern-like grass.
One of Savion’s arrows found the lead gnoll’s chest and it collapsed, dying. And Victoria reached the melee in time to pen in another that bounced between heavy blows from her spear, Telémahkos’s rapier and Timotheus’s saber. It fell over dead.
The remaining gnoll withdrew down the path dropping its bow and drawing a battle-axe off its back. The party could see now that around the bend here, the path split into two directions, though the way to the right was much narrower. The gnoll stuck to the left. Timotheus rushed it, shield up and the resounding blow echoed across the grass as Tim’s jaw chattered as he fell backward painfully. The gnoll barked its laugh-like bark delightedly, but its victory was short lived. Markos let a bolt from his gnomish repeating crossbow fly, staggering the thing, and then Bleys moved up and fired an arrow from his longbow. The hyena-headed man-beast fell back, dead.
Tymon and Telémahkos helped Timotheus to his feet. The gnolls were searched and their weapons distributed, though the axes were thrown into a nearby ditch. They found many silver and copper coins in a sack along with what looked like two large insect cocoons. They were a dirty whitish-gray and slightly curved, ridged on one side with a seam. Markos sliced the thing open and inside was some kind of large locust pupae. It was unmoving, dead by the time he got the thing open, ichor spilling all over his hands. They also found leather leashes of the kinds used on human slaves. Savion recognized them as the type used by the previously defeated gnolls slavers.
“They must have dropped the boy off at the shrine,” he said.
As Victoria called on Anhur to heal Timotheus, Savion scouted the two paths (Bleys once again, looking on) and announced that the gnolls had come from the broader path.
They marched on pressing the pace as fast as they dared.
“You said you are from Collines d’Or?” Markos asked Savion as they marched. “That is in the northwestern shore of the Captured Sea?”
“Yes,” Savion replied, shortly. He continued to march at the increased pace, and Markos momentarily fell behind.
”So, your surname is ‘Gold’… As in House Gold, former bannermen of House Amber?” Markos asked. He had recently learned much of the area from his research at the Library of Thoth in Lilly City.3
“Yes, I am descended from the nobles of House Gold,” Savion replied. “But now is not the time to discuss lineage…”
Markos nodded, “I just wanted to say I have some interest in House Amber and thought perhaps you knew more about them…”
Savion nodded. “I know some…”
The trail they were on began to get windier making it way up a steeped hill covered in the wall-like grass. They caught a glimpse of a large opening above them and some areas that looked like they were smaller clearings flanking it to the lower left and right. The foliage here was more like an unkempt hedge, tall and creating narrow passages that wound up the hill.
A lizardman’s voice was heard to call in common, “Intruders!”
Ahead the path forked out, and the lizardfolk appeared on their right and then dove back the way it came around the corner. Telémahkos hurried after, followed by Timotheus. “We need to hurry to save the kid,” Telémahkos called out. “We must not be too late!:
Bleys quickly cast message on Telémahkos before the swordsman disappeared with his cousin around the bend. But Telémahkos stopped short as the lizardfolk hurried past a shambling humanoid figure with pasty yellow skin and dead eyes. It was some kind of zombie, but was wrapped in a green thorny vine that emerged from its neck and head.
“Ra’s Balls! Timotheus! Kill that thing!” Telémahkos swore. “I’m checking for the kid.” He leapt and avoided a spear the lizardman spun and chuck at him, hurrying past the zombie-creature. The thing reached out with its calcified hands and slapped at Telémahkos with dead heavy limbs. The blond Briareus grunted and fell into a tumble to get past. Timotheus charged in as Bleys began to cast another spell, stepping forward to keep them in sight.
Timotheus buried his saber into the creature’s shoulder and yellow-green ichor poured from the wound instead of blood, and it would not fall.4
“Augeo Alio! Bleys completed the long spell and Timotheus grew in size to reach over twelve feet in height. The narrow confines of the path were now blocked by his immensity, making it difficult to get past him on the main path, or even in the direction Telémahkos had gone. Savion, whistling a jaunty tune, managed to squeeze past just as Timotheus was still growing, while Victoria cursed and bullied her way through the tall grass and broad-leaved bushes. She cut through the intersection and by-passed Timotheus, arriving back at the main path where it curved to the right, joining Savion. Markos dove between Tim’s legs and followed the newcomer and the militant, quickly passing the latter.
Tymon pushed his body against the hedge and reached for the zombie with his longsword, chopping through its head. The thing collapsed and fell apart, letting out brown dust. Timotheus squeezed down the side path and found Telémahkos at the edge of a pit in one of the side clearings they had noticed before. The lizardfolk was on the other side, drawing a thatched cover off from over the hole.
“Watch out! It is probably like the thing that killed Victoria’s horse that time!” Telémahkos warned his cousin.6 Timotheus could easily reach the lizardfolk with his increased armreach and drew green-black blood from it, but the lizardfolk was able to pull the cover clear.
“Get out of here!” Telémahkos called to Tim, jumping forward to stab the lizardfolk with his rapier.
Out on the main path, Savion was startled by a second zombie creature stumbling at him from a path on the left. The whistling man hurried further down the path away from the thing. Another lizardman spun around the corner, spearing at Markos, who cried out in alarm. Victoria called to Anhur and lay a cure light wounds spell on the mage as she drew her morningstar with her other hand. She swung the heavy spiked and moved in. Bleys let an arrow loose at the lizardfolk, but the projectile stopped by the hedge, hanging limply between blades of thick grass. The zombie turned to the next nearest target and slammed Victoria under the chin, pushing its way into close quarters with her.
Savion’s whistling changed into several sharp blasts and a flare of red light burst into being near the lizardman’s head, but seemed to have no affect on it. Victoria tried to drive the zombie back with pure strength, pushing her morningstar into its belly to pry it back away from her. Tymon moved up and chopped at the thing from behind. It spun around and slammed the manservant heavily on the side of the head.
Bleys hung back looking for an opening with his bow, stopping only to cast expeditious retreat on himself.
Meanwhile Telémahkos was able to thrust his rapier through the neck of his own lizardman foe and hurry to dive between the legs of his fleeing cousin, before any of the feared yellow pollen emerged. Seeing the battle out in the intersection Telémahkos squeezed past Bleys and then fell into a roll, gaining momentum to leap over the melee, twisting his body to avoid the spear thrust of the lizardfolk attacking Savion. Timotheus stepped over Bleys and then charged in trying to use his increased size to barrel through the fight and emerge at the other side, but the vine-covered zombie got tripped up in his legs and he did not get by.
A third lizardman emerged from around the corner from where more of the tall frond-like grass formed a ring around the huge clearing atop the flattened hill. It flung a javelin and Telémahkos gasped as he felt the pain of it glance off his ribs through his chain shirt. Savion moved to join Telémahkos, but stopped short as he felt the sting of many needles against his arm and face. He looked up to see another strange humanoid creature atop a tall narrow moss-covered standing stone that was one of matched pair, twelve feet high that flanked the entrance to the clearing – the old shrine of the dark insect god. It has fibrous skin of a dun-brown and pale green that covered knots of muscled vine. And over all its body it was covered in countless tiny needles. In its hands it held a short bow and wore a quiver on its back, but the needles had emerged from its very body. Another of these bizarre needlemen stood on the twin stone at the other side of the entrance. Just within these stone columns were deep shafts of clear water about five feet wide and ten feet long.
Markos chanted an arcane word and the lizardman in the intersection fell to sleep, and Victoria squeezed against the hedge to flank the zombie.
“Telémahkos! What is happening up there?” Bleys whispered, using his spell to talk to Telémahkos, still trapped behind the fight by the zombie and Timotheus’ immensity. The third lizardman came charging up just as Timotheus chopped down the zombie, but it managed to stop just short of being caught by the saber’s wide swing.
If Telémahkos heard Bleys call to him, he did not reply. Instead he reached into his toga and drew out the potion of invisibility that Markos had given to him after the first assassination attempt back in Sluetelot.5 He choked it down and promptly disappeared.
Savion fired some arrows at the needleman on the left, but the arrows seemed to do little or no harm to the thing. Unfortunately for the newcomer, the same could not be said for these creatures’ arrows on him. They both fired and he felt one clip his shoulder and the other bounced off a stud on his armor. He could feel the welt swell and tighten beneath his clothing. Behind him, Victoria slammed the remaining lizardman in the shoulder with her morningstar, knocking it down. Tymon stepped over and thrust his sword in its chest drawing blood.
“Finally!” Timotheus swore, pushing past everyone, his broadened shoulders brushing against the hedge on either side as he made it to the opening to the circular shrine area. He winced as he felt the bite of needles flying at him from the plant-men flanking him. “Telémahkos! Where did you go?”
“Tim! Telémahkos is invisible!” Bleys whispered with his spell. The blond Briareus had informed the watch-mage of his state by means of the message spell, as he hurried towards the center of the shrine area. The area was about 80 feet across and at its center was a painted circle of stones with a stylized red mantis in the center. There were five tall spires of stone ending in rounded points and covered in damp green moss that flanked each side of the central circle, eight of them were about six feet in diameter and nine feet high, but the center one on each side was nearly ten feet in diameter and twelve feet tall. The wall of tall frond-grass (fifteen feet tall) emerged from a trench dug around the entire circumference of the place and brimming with green water.
Two figures in long brown robes were walking at a steady pace around the circle on the ground, while a third stood over a small boy tied up lying on his side and crying. The third figure was a homely woman with two long dirty nappy brown fraying braids emerging from her shaved scalp. She was covered in countless tiny tattoos of insects, including on her face and head. She wore studded leather and held a spear in one hand, on her back was a quiver of javelins. She turned to look at Timotheus with her cold gray eyes.
“Get away from the child!” Timotheus demanded. “And perhaps I won’t kick your asses quite as hard!”
Telémahkos was not far from the tattooed woman, on his hands and knees on the edge of the circle, invisible and taking in the layout of the place. He gulped softly as he noticed two black ants, larger than mastiffs making their way from the rear of the clearing. “I’m up at the cicrle,” Telémahkos whispered to Bleys via the spell that connected them. “I am going to save the child…”
Savion shouted as he was struck by another arrow, so moving forward Bleys spoke some arcane words to protect the newcomer from the onslaught of missiles.7 Nearly simultaneously, Victoria called on Anhur to shield Savion with her faith, as the tracker was bleeding profusely.
“Chansomps say,” the woman with the spear called, obviously referring to herself. “Apshai! Dark lord of the hive and the colony! Use your power over plants to grasp these intruders!” And suddenly the grass and bushes began to grow and coil in a large area at the entrance to the clearing and even right up to the edge of the inner circle. Tymon and Markos were held immobile, while the others were able to avoid the quivering plantlife for now. The sleeping lizardman was also caught by the grasping foliage. “Master! What should I do?” Tymon cried out, squirming to free himself.
But Telémahkos was too busy, he straddled the boy and flared his cloak, hoping to shield him with his invisibility (but failing), quickly cutting the first bond about the boy’s wrists. “We are noble heroes here to rescue you,” he whispered to the would-be sacrifice. He noticed that the boy was bound to a stake in the ground that was tied about his waist and had two sets of bonds on his ankles and knees.
One of the circling druids stopped to direct one of the giant ants towards Timotheus, who made a large crack in its shell with his saber as it approached, barely sidestepping to avoid an arrow from the needleman on the right. Victoria hopped from one side to the other avoiding the flailing plants and handing a potion of aid to Savion as she passed him to reach the clearing entrance. Bleys followed with his increased speed, passing her and managing to escape the area of entanglement altogether. He moved to the left side of the clearing, noting one of the two ants charging to clamp down on Victoria’s calf with its pincer, even as she winced from needles flying at her from the flanking plantmen. Savion drank the potion and then fired an arrow at the needleman on the left. The arrow made contact and drew the smallest bit of sap-like blood from the plantman.
“You will not stop the coming of the avatar!” Chansomps cried, beginning to huff and puff as her chest expanded and her eyes grew wild and bloodshot. She charged at Bleys who was well within the clearing now, but the watch-mage easily avoided her, running with the speed granted by his spell past the circle, to the deeper into the clearing. Telémahkos cut the second set of bonds on the boy. There was a cry as one of the two druids cut across the circle to strike Timotheus with a club she drew from under her voluminous cloak. Tim’s enlarged blade drew blood as the insect-priestess tried to duck out of its way and slammed her cudgel into Tim’s knee, but she got the worst of the exchange. The other druid thinking he could use the distraction, found himself cut deeply across the face, and as he fell the last thing he felt was the point of Timotheus’ sword slicing open his gut to spill his entrails on the grass.
Chansomps turned from chasing Bleys and went after Timotheus instead. The enlarged brawny warrior cut through the foe swinging at him and brought his blade up in time to send the berserking druid’s spear off line and clip her with the tip of his sword on the chin, drawing a lot of blood.
Bleys hustled around the left side of the clearing and let loose and arrow, hitting the needleman on the left dead in the center of its back. It made no sound.
Victoria roared as she felt the grass about her ankles finally grab a tight hold of her, arresting her movement, but was able to bring down her morningstar heavily one last time, crushing the ant biting at her. Roaring her ambition to slay all her foes to her god, she entered her holy rage.
Tymon finally able to pull himself free dragged himself over to Bleys. “If you can make me big, Master Bleys, I will attack those thorny things on the rocks!”
As Savion continued to send arrows at the needlemen, Timotheus fell into the harsh rhythm of melee against the raging druid-warrior, Chansomps, and Telémahkos cut the last bond on the captured boy…
End of Session #32
--------------------------------------------------------
Notes:
1 Arcane casters can prepare spells in place of already prepared spells if they take 15 minutes per spell level. However, just the act of beginning to prepare a new spell removes the old one.
2 Remember, the cigar smoke acts as a deterrent to the giant mosquitoes. (See Session #30)
3 Markos had his cousin Laarus get the information with the help of Telémahkos’s brother, Nikephorus. (See Session #27)
4 This was a yellow musk zombie.
5 See Session #27.
6 See Session #4
7 Protection from Arrows
Later as Timotheus started work on skinning the crocodile (quickly realizing it would take much longer than they had), Markos prepared a spell in place of one he had readied that morning.1 They finished carrying the boats across the mucky ground and then continued deeper into the bog on the other side. Timotheus, Bleys and Victoria rode in the magical boat, while Telémahkos, Markos, Tymon, Savion and Katan rode in the larger boat, along with a great deal of gear and Tim and Victoria’s armor.
The foliage grew even thicker and their progress slowed as they often raised the oars to push aside brush as they went by. About two hours after getting past the island where they fought the bullywugs the mushroom creatures began to sing, and Katan began to holler his hatred of their song. “Ya nasty varmints! You’ll call the creatures of the swamp down on us!”
“You are making more noise then they are,” Victoria said.
“Light the cigars! Light the cigars!” Markos called and Katan obeyed. In the rear boat, Bleys did the same. They all heard the buzzing of the giant mosquitoes momentarily, but it passed without their coming into view.2
When the danger was past, Markos had fun getting the mushrooms to harmonize with him on bawdy sailor’s song, annoying everyone, but Katan most especially.
As they passed one last long stretch of deep still green bog water, Markos called out to those in the rear boat, “The spell may be ending soon, so that boat might be disappearing!”
“How will we know?” Timotheus called back.
“When you fall into the water,” Markos replied. And a few moments later, about 100 yards short of the mossy shore of an island thick, the conjured boat disappeared, sending Bleys, Timotheus and Victoria into the water.
“You fool,” Telémahkos cursed Markos.
“Race you!” Timotheus said to Bleys, and the two of them made a beeline for the shore, Bleys’s finer swimming stroke edging out the strength pulling Timotheus in great ragged yanks across the water.
Timotheus pulled himself out of the water laughing and then reached down to help Victoria out as well and later grabbed the prow of Katan’s and helped pull it ashore.
This was a lush island, green and covered in tall broad blades of wavy grass that leaned over each other in humps and waves. It rose up in rounded hills that built upon each other, leaving a winding path of grass-choked valleys that had clearly been hacked through with machetes. Katan explained that the last time he had passed through this area there had been no path and the way up to the overgrown shrine was a difficult passage. Savion asked that the others stood where they were while he went to the edge of the hacked path and checked for tracks.
In the meantime, the others discussed what to have Katan do. Bleys felt he should come back in two days and told the man as much, and the others quickly agreed. Since the matter was decided, he moved up to observe Savion looking for tracks, asking a few key questions about how such things were done.
“It may be there is another way out of here, so if we are not here waiting in two days forget it,” Bleys said, handing the man some coins. “But we shall find a way to send you due payment.”
The Scions of Thricia, with their new companion and manservant in tow, began to make their way up the path. Savion said he had found several sets of tracks overlapping each other, including those of lizardfolk and some he was sure were made by the gnolls he had been tracking. Timotheus led the way, followed by Bleys and Tymon. Then came Savion, Telémahkos, and Markos. Victoria took up the rear of the line. The grass was slick and often their booted feet sunk down into the soft loam below as it was impossible to know exactly where they were stepping. The grass was tall and thick, like tight blooming ferns creating a thick green wall to either side of them, and forcing them to go directly along the path.
“Look! Canoes!” Victoria called to the others. Everyone else had walked past them without noticing, but there were three large canoes tucked into a ditch at the roots of some of the grass on the right side. The canoes were painted green and brown and blended easily with the background. “Markos, make sure to mark this place in your memory so that we might find them again on the way back,” the militant said.
The tanned mage walked back and looked to where she pointed and then made an exaggerated expression as if he were straining, putting his right hand to his temple. “It is memorized,” he said to Victoria with a smirk, and rolling his eyes he turned as everyone else continued to walk.
“What do lizardfolk need with canoes?” Timotheus asked.
“The gnolls might have used them,” Savion suggested.
“And MacHaven’s Brood,” added Bleys.
They had marched perhaps thirty minutes when Timotheus stopped short. “Gnolls!”
There were three tall humanoids wrapped in studded leather armor and holding long recurved bows. They had red-furred hyena faces with long toothy snouts and large eyes. Savion rushed forward and winced as an arrow cut him deeply across the forearm as he reflexively raised his arm to deflect it, dropping to one side to pull and arrow from his quiver.
“I’ll keep them tied up!” Timotheus called, rushing forward, ignoring the arrows narrowly missing him as he advanced, hacking at one of the hyena-headed men. It leapt back, deftly fitting another arrow to its bow as it did, giving a sharp barking call to its two companions.
Bleys moved up and then squeezed into the thick press of the tall broad grass letting an arrow loose that caught one of the gnolls in the calf, before springing out, advancing and firing again, this time the gnoll barked in deeper pain. Meanwhile, the three of them kept deftly avoiding Timotheus, managing to withdraw just enough to fire arrows that only shattered uselessly against the bulette shield. Telémahkos ran up and supported his cousin, screaming for Victoria to aid him, but the militant was not as fleet of foot in her scale armor, and had been trailing the line. Markos kept hidden, slowly advancing by hiding behind different lumps of the fern-like grass.
One of Savion’s arrows found the lead gnoll’s chest and it collapsed, dying. And Victoria reached the melee in time to pen in another that bounced between heavy blows from her spear, Telémahkos’s rapier and Timotheus’s saber. It fell over dead.
The remaining gnoll withdrew down the path dropping its bow and drawing a battle-axe off its back. The party could see now that around the bend here, the path split into two directions, though the way to the right was much narrower. The gnoll stuck to the left. Timotheus rushed it, shield up and the resounding blow echoed across the grass as Tim’s jaw chattered as he fell backward painfully. The gnoll barked its laugh-like bark delightedly, but its victory was short lived. Markos let a bolt from his gnomish repeating crossbow fly, staggering the thing, and then Bleys moved up and fired an arrow from his longbow. The hyena-headed man-beast fell back, dead.
Tymon and Telémahkos helped Timotheus to his feet. The gnolls were searched and their weapons distributed, though the axes were thrown into a nearby ditch. They found many silver and copper coins in a sack along with what looked like two large insect cocoons. They were a dirty whitish-gray and slightly curved, ridged on one side with a seam. Markos sliced the thing open and inside was some kind of large locust pupae. It was unmoving, dead by the time he got the thing open, ichor spilling all over his hands. They also found leather leashes of the kinds used on human slaves. Savion recognized them as the type used by the previously defeated gnolls slavers.
“They must have dropped the boy off at the shrine,” he said.
As Victoria called on Anhur to heal Timotheus, Savion scouted the two paths (Bleys once again, looking on) and announced that the gnolls had come from the broader path.
They marched on pressing the pace as fast as they dared.
“You said you are from Collines d’Or?” Markos asked Savion as they marched. “That is in the northwestern shore of the Captured Sea?”
“Yes,” Savion replied, shortly. He continued to march at the increased pace, and Markos momentarily fell behind.
”So, your surname is ‘Gold’… As in House Gold, former bannermen of House Amber?” Markos asked. He had recently learned much of the area from his research at the Library of Thoth in Lilly City.3
“Yes, I am descended from the nobles of House Gold,” Savion replied. “But now is not the time to discuss lineage…”
Markos nodded, “I just wanted to say I have some interest in House Amber and thought perhaps you knew more about them…”
Savion nodded. “I know some…”
The trail they were on began to get windier making it way up a steeped hill covered in the wall-like grass. They caught a glimpse of a large opening above them and some areas that looked like they were smaller clearings flanking it to the lower left and right. The foliage here was more like an unkempt hedge, tall and creating narrow passages that wound up the hill.
A lizardman’s voice was heard to call in common, “Intruders!”
Ahead the path forked out, and the lizardfolk appeared on their right and then dove back the way it came around the corner. Telémahkos hurried after, followed by Timotheus. “We need to hurry to save the kid,” Telémahkos called out. “We must not be too late!:
Bleys quickly cast message on Telémahkos before the swordsman disappeared with his cousin around the bend. But Telémahkos stopped short as the lizardfolk hurried past a shambling humanoid figure with pasty yellow skin and dead eyes. It was some kind of zombie, but was wrapped in a green thorny vine that emerged from its neck and head.
“Ra’s Balls! Timotheus! Kill that thing!” Telémahkos swore. “I’m checking for the kid.” He leapt and avoided a spear the lizardman spun and chuck at him, hurrying past the zombie-creature. The thing reached out with its calcified hands and slapped at Telémahkos with dead heavy limbs. The blond Briareus grunted and fell into a tumble to get past. Timotheus charged in as Bleys began to cast another spell, stepping forward to keep them in sight.
Timotheus buried his saber into the creature’s shoulder and yellow-green ichor poured from the wound instead of blood, and it would not fall.4
“Augeo Alio! Bleys completed the long spell and Timotheus grew in size to reach over twelve feet in height. The narrow confines of the path were now blocked by his immensity, making it difficult to get past him on the main path, or even in the direction Telémahkos had gone. Savion, whistling a jaunty tune, managed to squeeze past just as Timotheus was still growing, while Victoria cursed and bullied her way through the tall grass and broad-leaved bushes. She cut through the intersection and by-passed Timotheus, arriving back at the main path where it curved to the right, joining Savion. Markos dove between Tim’s legs and followed the newcomer and the militant, quickly passing the latter.
Tymon pushed his body against the hedge and reached for the zombie with his longsword, chopping through its head. The thing collapsed and fell apart, letting out brown dust. Timotheus squeezed down the side path and found Telémahkos at the edge of a pit in one of the side clearings they had noticed before. The lizardfolk was on the other side, drawing a thatched cover off from over the hole.
“Watch out! It is probably like the thing that killed Victoria’s horse that time!” Telémahkos warned his cousin.6 Timotheus could easily reach the lizardfolk with his increased armreach and drew green-black blood from it, but the lizardfolk was able to pull the cover clear.
“Get out of here!” Telémahkos called to Tim, jumping forward to stab the lizardfolk with his rapier.
Out on the main path, Savion was startled by a second zombie creature stumbling at him from a path on the left. The whistling man hurried further down the path away from the thing. Another lizardman spun around the corner, spearing at Markos, who cried out in alarm. Victoria called to Anhur and lay a cure light wounds spell on the mage as she drew her morningstar with her other hand. She swung the heavy spiked and moved in. Bleys let an arrow loose at the lizardfolk, but the projectile stopped by the hedge, hanging limply between blades of thick grass. The zombie turned to the next nearest target and slammed Victoria under the chin, pushing its way into close quarters with her.
Savion’s whistling changed into several sharp blasts and a flare of red light burst into being near the lizardman’s head, but seemed to have no affect on it. Victoria tried to drive the zombie back with pure strength, pushing her morningstar into its belly to pry it back away from her. Tymon moved up and chopped at the thing from behind. It spun around and slammed the manservant heavily on the side of the head.
Bleys hung back looking for an opening with his bow, stopping only to cast expeditious retreat on himself.
Meanwhile Telémahkos was able to thrust his rapier through the neck of his own lizardman foe and hurry to dive between the legs of his fleeing cousin, before any of the feared yellow pollen emerged. Seeing the battle out in the intersection Telémahkos squeezed past Bleys and then fell into a roll, gaining momentum to leap over the melee, twisting his body to avoid the spear thrust of the lizardfolk attacking Savion. Timotheus stepped over Bleys and then charged in trying to use his increased size to barrel through the fight and emerge at the other side, but the vine-covered zombie got tripped up in his legs and he did not get by.
A third lizardman emerged from around the corner from where more of the tall frond-like grass formed a ring around the huge clearing atop the flattened hill. It flung a javelin and Telémahkos gasped as he felt the pain of it glance off his ribs through his chain shirt. Savion moved to join Telémahkos, but stopped short as he felt the sting of many needles against his arm and face. He looked up to see another strange humanoid creature atop a tall narrow moss-covered standing stone that was one of matched pair, twelve feet high that flanked the entrance to the clearing – the old shrine of the dark insect god. It has fibrous skin of a dun-brown and pale green that covered knots of muscled vine. And over all its body it was covered in countless tiny needles. In its hands it held a short bow and wore a quiver on its back, but the needles had emerged from its very body. Another of these bizarre needlemen stood on the twin stone at the other side of the entrance. Just within these stone columns were deep shafts of clear water about five feet wide and ten feet long.
Markos chanted an arcane word and the lizardman in the intersection fell to sleep, and Victoria squeezed against the hedge to flank the zombie.
“Telémahkos! What is happening up there?” Bleys whispered, using his spell to talk to Telémahkos, still trapped behind the fight by the zombie and Timotheus’ immensity. The third lizardman came charging up just as Timotheus chopped down the zombie, but it managed to stop just short of being caught by the saber’s wide swing.
If Telémahkos heard Bleys call to him, he did not reply. Instead he reached into his toga and drew out the potion of invisibility that Markos had given to him after the first assassination attempt back in Sluetelot.5 He choked it down and promptly disappeared.
Savion fired some arrows at the needleman on the left, but the arrows seemed to do little or no harm to the thing. Unfortunately for the newcomer, the same could not be said for these creatures’ arrows on him. They both fired and he felt one clip his shoulder and the other bounced off a stud on his armor. He could feel the welt swell and tighten beneath his clothing. Behind him, Victoria slammed the remaining lizardman in the shoulder with her morningstar, knocking it down. Tymon stepped over and thrust his sword in its chest drawing blood.
“Finally!” Timotheus swore, pushing past everyone, his broadened shoulders brushing against the hedge on either side as he made it to the opening to the circular shrine area. He winced as he felt the bite of needles flying at him from the plant-men flanking him. “Telémahkos! Where did you go?”
“Tim! Telémahkos is invisible!” Bleys whispered with his spell. The blond Briareus had informed the watch-mage of his state by means of the message spell, as he hurried towards the center of the shrine area. The area was about 80 feet across and at its center was a painted circle of stones with a stylized red mantis in the center. There were five tall spires of stone ending in rounded points and covered in damp green moss that flanked each side of the central circle, eight of them were about six feet in diameter and nine feet high, but the center one on each side was nearly ten feet in diameter and twelve feet tall. The wall of tall frond-grass (fifteen feet tall) emerged from a trench dug around the entire circumference of the place and brimming with green water.
Two figures in long brown robes were walking at a steady pace around the circle on the ground, while a third stood over a small boy tied up lying on his side and crying. The third figure was a homely woman with two long dirty nappy brown fraying braids emerging from her shaved scalp. She was covered in countless tiny tattoos of insects, including on her face and head. She wore studded leather and held a spear in one hand, on her back was a quiver of javelins. She turned to look at Timotheus with her cold gray eyes.
“Get away from the child!” Timotheus demanded. “And perhaps I won’t kick your asses quite as hard!”
Telémahkos was not far from the tattooed woman, on his hands and knees on the edge of the circle, invisible and taking in the layout of the place. He gulped softly as he noticed two black ants, larger than mastiffs making their way from the rear of the clearing. “I’m up at the cicrle,” Telémahkos whispered to Bleys via the spell that connected them. “I am going to save the child…”
Savion shouted as he was struck by another arrow, so moving forward Bleys spoke some arcane words to protect the newcomer from the onslaught of missiles.7 Nearly simultaneously, Victoria called on Anhur to shield Savion with her faith, as the tracker was bleeding profusely.
“Chansomps say,” the woman with the spear called, obviously referring to herself. “Apshai! Dark lord of the hive and the colony! Use your power over plants to grasp these intruders!” And suddenly the grass and bushes began to grow and coil in a large area at the entrance to the clearing and even right up to the edge of the inner circle. Tymon and Markos were held immobile, while the others were able to avoid the quivering plantlife for now. The sleeping lizardman was also caught by the grasping foliage. “Master! What should I do?” Tymon cried out, squirming to free himself.
But Telémahkos was too busy, he straddled the boy and flared his cloak, hoping to shield him with his invisibility (but failing), quickly cutting the first bond about the boy’s wrists. “We are noble heroes here to rescue you,” he whispered to the would-be sacrifice. He noticed that the boy was bound to a stake in the ground that was tied about his waist and had two sets of bonds on his ankles and knees.
One of the circling druids stopped to direct one of the giant ants towards Timotheus, who made a large crack in its shell with his saber as it approached, barely sidestepping to avoid an arrow from the needleman on the right. Victoria hopped from one side to the other avoiding the flailing plants and handing a potion of aid to Savion as she passed him to reach the clearing entrance. Bleys followed with his increased speed, passing her and managing to escape the area of entanglement altogether. He moved to the left side of the clearing, noting one of the two ants charging to clamp down on Victoria’s calf with its pincer, even as she winced from needles flying at her from the flanking plantmen. Savion drank the potion and then fired an arrow at the needleman on the left. The arrow made contact and drew the smallest bit of sap-like blood from the plantman.
“You will not stop the coming of the avatar!” Chansomps cried, beginning to huff and puff as her chest expanded and her eyes grew wild and bloodshot. She charged at Bleys who was well within the clearing now, but the watch-mage easily avoided her, running with the speed granted by his spell past the circle, to the deeper into the clearing. Telémahkos cut the second set of bonds on the boy. There was a cry as one of the two druids cut across the circle to strike Timotheus with a club she drew from under her voluminous cloak. Tim’s enlarged blade drew blood as the insect-priestess tried to duck out of its way and slammed her cudgel into Tim’s knee, but she got the worst of the exchange. The other druid thinking he could use the distraction, found himself cut deeply across the face, and as he fell the last thing he felt was the point of Timotheus’ sword slicing open his gut to spill his entrails on the grass.
Chansomps turned from chasing Bleys and went after Timotheus instead. The enlarged brawny warrior cut through the foe swinging at him and brought his blade up in time to send the berserking druid’s spear off line and clip her with the tip of his sword on the chin, drawing a lot of blood.
Bleys hustled around the left side of the clearing and let loose and arrow, hitting the needleman on the left dead in the center of its back. It made no sound.
Victoria roared as she felt the grass about her ankles finally grab a tight hold of her, arresting her movement, but was able to bring down her morningstar heavily one last time, crushing the ant biting at her. Roaring her ambition to slay all her foes to her god, she entered her holy rage.
Tymon finally able to pull himself free dragged himself over to Bleys. “If you can make me big, Master Bleys, I will attack those thorny things on the rocks!”
As Savion continued to send arrows at the needlemen, Timotheus fell into the harsh rhythm of melee against the raging druid-warrior, Chansomps, and Telémahkos cut the last bond on the captured boy…
End of Session #32
--------------------------------------------------------
Notes:
1 Arcane casters can prepare spells in place of already prepared spells if they take 15 minutes per spell level. However, just the act of beginning to prepare a new spell removes the old one.
2 Remember, the cigar smoke acts as a deterrent to the giant mosquitoes. (See Session #30)
3 Markos had his cousin Laarus get the information with the help of Telémahkos’s brother, Nikephorus. (See Session #27)
4 This was a yellow musk zombie.
5 See Session #27.
6 See Session #4
7 Protection from Arrows
darkhall-nestor
Explorer
helloooooooooooooo where is everybody?
darkhall-nestor
Explorer
poke poke
anybody home?
anybody home?
el-remmen
Moderator Emeritus
Actually, no, I'm not home. . . not really. Well, in my new home in Binghamton, NY, where I've recently started a PhD program in English Studies.
I am sorry that I never posted a note here to give the status of the story hour, but between being really busy with life, being at waning point in my interest in D&D/RPGs (happens every few years) and starting at a new school in an intensive course of study, I have not had time to work on the story hour (though there is one more installment written up to be posted).
We ended the campaign this past August with kind of an open-ended final session of the young nobles going off on a great adventure - perhaps we will take it up again some day.
Thanks all for reading, and perhaps I will get around to post the last installment over winter break and maybe even try to write up those last ones.
Peace.
I am sorry that I never posted a note here to give the status of the story hour, but between being really busy with life, being at waning point in my interest in D&D/RPGs (happens every few years) and starting at a new school in an intensive course of study, I have not had time to work on the story hour (though there is one more installment written up to be posted).
We ended the campaign this past August with kind of an open-ended final session of the young nobles going off on a great adventure - perhaps we will take it up again some day.
Thanks all for reading, and perhaps I will get around to post the last installment over winter break and maybe even try to write up those last ones.
Peace.
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