Seravin's Tales of the Night Below (Two Updates this Week - 07/24/07)

[Seravin]

There were three things that I remember pretty clearly when prepping for and running this session (from the capture of Gregory forward).

Hook Horrors had just been converted (Monsters of Faerun I think) and had been upgrade from 5HD to 10HD. Given the party's capabilities I decided to use the 10HD version with some trepidation. Their low Will saves made them easy targets for a 10th level telepath with Psionic Blast.

I was also looking forward to the rakshasa fight. One of the things I had to decide was how to deal with its Change Shape power; it could no longer disguise itself as a hook horror. I settled on the human form because I couldn't think of anything more appropriate. I certainly didn't want to have it appear as a rakshasa - Jared's player would have immediately known what to do and could have made the Knowledge check to justify the knowledge. Nor did I want to handwave it and let it appear as a hook horror.

The surprise was when the players pulled out a legend lore on Kestral's sword right then. As soon as they cast the spell (break enchantment I think, but they had a dispel evil prepped just in case) I realized that the rakshasa was going to be a cake-walk. Sometimes players do exactly the right thing at the right time. <sigh>

As for Deverat, the sword had originally been designed with Kestral in mind and was suppose to a reasonable match for Finslayer when they recovered it (Finslayer comes out as a +9 sword, Deverat is +10). At that time there was an entirely different backstory for Deverat when I first wrote it up.

I had talked a bit of it over with Kestral's player after the fact to flesh out some plot points - and discovered that she was uncomfortable with what was essentially a gift; one with strings, but there you go.

It was fairly easy to change Deverat's history and tie it in to Kellron's already open plot hook. At the very least it was an weapon on par with Finslayer and would allow Jared and Kellron to choose who got which weapon (though I was betting that Kellron would accept the sword).

Still, the fight with the hook horrors was fun. The party had to stretch themselves to win, and it looked close for a moment. It was also the last bit of mindlessness that they got to indulge in for awhile.

The next session they had to deal with a...messenger of sorts.

 

[Imruphel]

Seravin,

I've read all your posts over the course of a single day. I can't tell you how much I have enjoyed your write-ups. Keep up the great work!

 

[Capellan]

I for one appreciate the GM asides as well as the story posts. They provide an interesting insight into the game.

 

[AsEver]

It was also the last bit of mindlessness that they got to indulge in for awhile.

Oh yes, we got on to more interesting things than trudge, trudge, trudge, KILLKILLKILL, trudge, trudge, etc. By the time we got done with all the politics and intrigue we were crying "I wanna to go back underground!" We were heartily tired of the city and wanted to get back to something simpler. Back to trudge, trudge, trudge....

 

[Imruphel]

I for one appreciate the GM asides as well as the story posts. They provide an interesting insight into the game.

Likewise. I also really enjoyed the sidetrek/subplot involving the Water King's ring. I think Kestral's player is doing a great job.

 

[Seravin]

Seravin,

I've read all your posts over the course of a single day. I can't tell you how much I hav enjoyed your write-ups. Keep up the great work!

Imruphel,
Thanks and welcome to the story hour.
I haven't updated as much as I would have liked, but I'm working through it. There's still a long way to go.

I'm glad folks like the DM notes. For me they serve two purposes: They close any gaps in my updates, and they help explain the player and DM rationale to potential DM's.

 

[Seravin]

Conversations

Excerpts from “Conversations with the Edge of the Blade”

Scrivener’s Note: The sword known as Finslayer speaks quickly and to the point; with an impatient-sounding baritone. Oddly, its voice is aloud though there is no ‘mouth’ for the sword to speak from. It (the sword) is quite fixated on its goal of finding and killing the creatures known as kuo-toa. Fortunately for its weilder the blade is quite intelligent and seems to grasp the realities of its weilder storming an entire city of degenerate fish-monsters (kuo-toa).

As for the source of its intelligence, not even the blade can say. It does not seem to be elementally powered, or as in the case of Deverat, to contain the spirit of an angel. Regardless, it is fortunate that the blade seems mostly unharmed from its three-hundred year exile in the underground caverns.

Finslayer will speak at length and with fondness of its previous weilder, the elf Parjarifan and will go into excruciating detail of how it and its weilder sliced, cut, and diced numerous kuo-toa. No doubt a fisherman would be able to appreciate Finslayer’s favorite filleting techniques.

Finslayer has five traits that stand out clearly. First, is its hatred of the kuo-toa. It is Finslayer’s mission to kill these fishmen and continue its previous weilder’s mission. Second, is Finslayer’s confidence in itself; the sword is incapable in believing that it will fail. This relates to its third trait, a heightened sense of superiority over all that have so far held it. Fourth is its complete inability to consistently use the correct gender pronouns; he, she, and it are used interchangeably by the sword. Finally, Finslayer takes a certain pride in itself, calling out ever so slyly the perfection of its silver and gem encrusted hilt; as well as the emerald studded scabbard that Parjarifan gifted it with. If one can get over or work with these traits then Finslayer is a very pleasant entity to talk with.

---

<Second Excerpt>

“Jared? She’s a good enough fighter, and he can only get better with my advice. Jared is no Pajarifan though, he was my first weilder, but Jared has some moves and the whole priestess thing works out. It’s a good thing he’s a priest of the war god, eh?

I have to admit I wasn’t so certain about it the first time I met him. Sure he and her companions did pretty well against the bug things and the rakshasa; but its not like they took on a whole city of the things. Instead, after the fight they take their dead person and hightail it back to a cavern and begin to pray. Can you believe that?

I was disappointed, but I soon discovered that Jared’s praying means a lot more than my praying. To be fair I hadn’t seen him in action before that. So she prays in front of the altar looking for answers, and I’ll be nicked if he doesn’t get them.

Jared found out all sorts of things. Things like his friend’s building in that little town was apparently in trouble. They also discovered who had been magically spying on them; some person named Father Dark. That’s a stupid name by the way. It seems that they had met Father Dark while she was unmasked; a Grandal-something-or-other.

More interesting, to me at least, was that their map indicated the lair of dragons. If Jared and its friends could take on the dragons then I think they could be ready for the City of the Glass Pool.

They also learned that some person named Jelenneth was alive, as well as the majority of the kidnapped people they were looking for. And that the son of the Water King was in the City of the Glass Pool. Not that I cared, but anything that leads to the City is good.

Oh yeah. Jared also got permission to bring back two people to life. I nearly illuminated myself when I understood that. The dead person they had collected, Tore was his name, and some corpse they had found who had been dead for years. That’s when I started to suspect that Jared might get us some dead kuo-toa.

The real proof was when Jared called up an angel. Not many people can pray that hard. It’s name was General Markon, one of the Intercessors*. She and Jared talked for awhile. Seems that Jared was doing a reasonably good job so Markon agreed to bring back Tore and Aerseleth. If an angel approves of Jared, then it seems like maybe I should too.

Jared doesn’t get this for free though. Markon tells Jared that in return she’ll have to take responsibility and protect Aerseleth and Tore by enchanting their armor. Jared steps right up to that task and promises to do it at the first opportunity. That’s what I like about Jared, she has no problem stepping up to volunteer.

That done, Markon begins praying of his own, in that weird sing-song chant that Deverat uses when he wants to say something I won’t understand. Sounds nice if somewhat snooty. The only thing that happens, besides the dead waking up, is Jallarzi claims to notice a scrying sphere while the angel is singing. She dispelled it pretty quickly. I wonder if whoever was looking through it saw Markon though.

Given what happened later that night though I think that whoever was on that other side of that sphere did see the angel."


*Planetar. When Jared's player said he wanted to summon one it threw me for a moment. I had to look it up to verify it was legal. Then I had to figure out some fluff around it all. I settled on a Knowledge Religion check (DC 15+HD) to recall the name of a Planetar suitable for calling. Jared recalled two names, General Markon the Intercessor known for providing information and healing, and General Arvon of the Celestial Host, a fierce combatant of the fiends.

Jared's player didn't abuse the ability as much as he could have. He was also really cool about looking for alternative means of payment.

For my part I eyeballed what he was summoning or trying to do and then tailor each task to cost as much. He got a True Res for Tore and a Ressurrection for Aerseleth so in return he was tasked in creating two sets of magic armor. I choose the armor enchantment since he had the feat. He agreed without a quibble and I think put more money into the creation of the armor then was called for.

Looking back I would have preferred making some additional non-core angels instead, such as celestials with class-levels. It would have taken a lot more up-front effort though. I wouldn't do that until much later though.

 

[Seravin]

The Messenger

As a Factor for the Lordan Trading House in Corlean, Ker Gales Bourin is a sober, responsible man who takes his duties seriously. As such, when Ker Bourin was approached concerning the rental of a certain vacant property owned by the Lordan family, he did his research. It took only a few inquiries to discover that the potential renter was of impeccable reputation and means.

Ker Bourin was quite pleased to report to the Lordan family that he had rented their property out to Sir Kellron of Broken Spire Keep to be his domicile while in Corlean. The rental was at a good price and Ker Bourin was certain that it would reflect favorably upon the trading house.

The only catch was that the real Kellron of Broken Spire Keep knew nothing of the rental If he had found out about the transaction, the knight doubtlessly would have been in turn surprised, suspicious, and finally righteously indignant.
---

The fifteen room mansion was located in the Merchant Ward of Corlean, just two blocks east of Latina’s Cathedral. Over the past week a number of carts had arrived at the mansion carrying various sundries for the new renter for when he was in residence.

Despite what the paperwork said, the newest renter was not Sir Kellron of Broken Spire Keep. Nor was it one Imgard Cadrim, a minor merchant and smuggler, even though several clues would lead straight to him. It would come as no surprise to those familiar with the circumstances that the person responsible for the actual rental and the subterfuge was Ker Grandal Deverex.

On this particular evening Grandal Deverex found himself in the basement of the mansion, which had once served as an extensive wine cellar for the previous occupants. Now the wooden racks were rudely shoved up against the far walls and a ten foot diameter circle made up of polished, black, ceramic bricks dominated the center of the room. Each rune-carved brick joined snugly with its neighbor such that at first glance no seam was visible.

Next to Grandal stood Imtithal, the guard and confidante of Grandal’s and Quereth’s newest business parter, Aruk. Imtithal was here in a special advisory capacity this evening. The two men were regarding the now empty calling circle in silence, keeping their thoughts private.

In his own mind, Grandal was reviewing each step that had brought him to this place; every deal and every lie. He had started with his own plans of assassinations and blackmail; but it was Imtithal who had discovered that Ashimar, the Sarathian squire, had inadvertently given up his soul. More importantly Imtithal had discovered the name of the renegade wizard who had claimed it; a man name Severik. Grandal recognized the name as belonging to wizard of importance who served on the Library Council, but he could not say if this was the same wizard or one using an opportune alias.

According to Imtithal, Severik had planted books of temptation throughout the Empire, ostensibly to find like-minded apprentices. What the recipients were never told was that upon their death the reader’s souls would be forfeit to the renegade. Severik did not say what he would use the souls for, but Grandal could guess.

In addition to providing the information to Grandal, Imtithal had offered to introduce him to the half-mad renegade wizard. It turned out that the cost of a soul was surprisingly cheap: only several thousand gold lions, two items of moderate magical power, and the need for a bath after the meeting.

The next need was for a messenger; something that would cause Kellron to deviate from his quest. Something the paladin couldn’t ignore. Again Imtithal had a suggestion, something from the Realm of Shadow. In return for supporting one of Aruk’s schemes Imtithal had even provided a name as well as the calling spell. Grandal agreed and received the name, Granok. Imtithal had even provided knowledge on what the creature would find as an acceptable bargain.

Recognizing that his need for revenge was driving him and not the other way around, Grandal took his time before the calling. Risking insanity he used his strongest spell to pierce the veil of Shadow to inquire into the nature of this Granok and the veracity of the name. The answers pleased him.

Next he found and aquired this mansion as the place for calling in case anything untoward happened. There was a bare possibility that it could be traced back to him, but only a sufficiently suspicious person could do so, and even then only with magic.

The calling and the bargaining was now over and Granok was on his way with the message that Kellron wouldn’t ignore. The creature had teleported to a nearby cavern that Grandal had scried before with his viewing crystal. He had given the creature a charm that would point the way to Kellron for a little while. Soon he would find his prey and deliver his message.

It was possible that Granok would kill the field-captain and his friends, but Grandal doubted it. There was no doubt that Granok was formidable in his assumed form, but his daily scryings had shown that Jallarzi’s and Jared’s magics were far stronger then he had initially believed. The summoned creature he had glimpsed them summoning earlier today had proven that. He wasn’t sure what it was but Imtithal had let loose with a string of foul-sounding words upon its description.

No. At best Granok would kill one, maybe two of Kellron’s band; but even if he failed so much as to wound the paladin, Granok would bring Kellron back to Corlean; with Grandal’s money.

The half-elf businessman allowed himself a smile. All was going better then he had expected. Soon he would have his money back, Kellron’s reputation and life would be in tatters, and he could get on with running his business. As a bonus he had gained more information on Imtithal then the man expected.

The foreigner kept his abilities quiet, but his intimate knowledge of the magical community as well as knowledge of names from the other realms betrayed what he was. It was obvious that Imtithal was a renegade wizard himself, most probably a conjurer. Grandal had already started making inquiries based on that. Hopefully he would soon have a better idea what game Imtithal and Aruk were playing. He still didn’t trust either of them.

Beside Grandal, Imtithal remained quiet with only a slight smile betraying the satisfaction the man felt. All was proceeding on schedule. Tomorrow he would report to to Quereth all that had occurred this evening. Quereth’s reaction to a report of reckless spending, dealing with suspicious contacts outside of the city, and other unreported activities would doubtless widen the rift between the two men. That division could only help Aruk and Baron Roth, and by extension, himself.

 

[Seravin]

The Message

The Place:
A Sanctuary of Sarath, deep beneath the earth somewhere near the border of the Duchy of Larence.

The Time:
The 32nd year of the Emperor Jaz’aldrin. Winter’s first month, the last week (late November).

The People:
Field Captain Kellron, bearer of the Sundering Sword
Captain Aerseleth Carathun, Scion of the Sundering Sword
Lieutenant Jared of Sarath, Scion of the Victorious Dragon, companion of Finslayer
Tore Daergan, Witch and Inquisitor for the Chuch of Latina
Jallarzi, Library Journeywoman and a woman not to be trifled with
Kestral Threndy, Mediator, Herald, Imperial Scout, and Agent at Large*

The Situation:
A quiet evening following a morning of miracles. Kellron and Jared are bringing Aerselth up to date near the altar of Sarath. Across the cavern in their magical hut, Jallarzi is quietly studying to find a way to use her haste spell on everyone. Tore and Kestral are cleaning up after the meal and quietly chatting about inconsequentials.

Then, from the mouth of the tunnel leading into the cavern…

“Jallarzi? Are you there?” The called out question was plaintive, almost a cry, and just loud enough to be heard within the hut some twenty feet away.

Across the cavern, about sixty feet away near the altar, the three soldiers in Sarath’s service stood up from the chairs they had taken from the hut. The faint voice echoed weirdly in the cavern but they could hear pain in the breathy-sounding voice.

“Kestral? Are you there?” Again the voice called out. “Someone? Please? I’m in trouble.”

The hut’s door opened suddenly, flooding the area in front of it with light. Kestral and Jallarzi stood in the doorway with Tore behind them, peering into the darkness. They couldn't see him until he spoke again.

“Jallarzi. It’s me. Ashimar.”

All three women orientated on the sound of the voice, located in the shadowy darkness just beyond the flickering magical light of the hut. Kellron, almost halfway back to the hut, stopped with a stunned expression. Jared and Aerseleth followed suit. Jared at least knew of Ashimar though he hadn’t met the man.

It was hard to tell in the shadows, but he did look like Ashimar; there was something wrong though. All of them felt it and it made them suspicious.

“Ashimar? Is it really you?” Called out Jallarzi

“It is. I was…away. I’m back now, but everything feels different.” His voice was lower and more breathy, like he was in pain; but they all recognized it.

Jallarzi frowned and glanced at Kestral. Kestral returned the look then and then stepped out the door with the wizardess following closely behind. Instinctively the women maintained about ten feet of separation once they were out in the open.

Ashimar stepped forward, closer to the light and his features were revealed. It was their friend, right down to the clothes, mithril chain shirt, and the rapier he had died with; though the items had been cleaned and repaired.

There were differences however. Ashimar’s skin seemed darker, like he had been smudged with soot; and this made it harder to make him out. His movements were at once familiar and strangely odd – more fluid.

“Jallarzi? It’s me. You recognize me, don’t you?”

The wizardess frowned, not quite sure what to do. Colonel Megara had told her that Ashimar couldn’t be brought back. “Come closer, Ashimar. Into the light so we can see you.”

The rogue took a hesitant step forward then stopped. “It hurts. It hurts too much.” He looked at the wizardess with blackened eyes. “Can you help me Jallarzi? Please?”

By this time, the soldiers had moved up to the hut. The situation was tense though and everyone was usure what to do. Suspicion told them this was a trick, but every sense they had said this was Ashimar.

It was Ashimar who broke the standoff first. With a half-snarl of rage, he drew his rapier with reflexes far greater then he had ever shown before (even with his magical gloves – which Kestral was now wearing) and charged towards Jallarzi. He crossed the twenty or so feet with an easy lope and slashed at the half-elven woman. Jallarzi was unprepared for the sudden attack and Ashimar’s blade bit deep.

“You’re going to die!” He yelled. “I’ll kill you all!”

Jallarzi stepped back and dropped an ice storm on the not-Ashimar. Chunks of ice battered at her attacker and he snarled and stepped back. Annoyed, he dug into his pouch and pulled out a bottle. He tore the seal off and drank the contents quickly, his wounds healing as he drank.

Kellron was the next to act and he drew his blade as he charged forward. That’s when the shadows rose up shifting around the not-Ashimar and made him almost invisible. Kellron’s first attack missed due to the shifting shadows that seemed to crawl through the light to protect their attacker.

Tore tried to make contact with their attacker’s mind as Kestral dug out her light amulet and tried to illuminate the area around their attacker. Jared and Aerseleth both drew their own swords (though Aerseleth’s was just recently borrowed) and tried to strike down their shadowy assailant, but their attacks also missed.

Recovered, Jallarzi followed with a fusillade of magic missiles, and stared as the missiles harmlessly fade away in the eveloping shadows.

not-Ashimar snareled again and gestured towards the half-elf with his free hand. In Jallarzi’s mind, the assailant started to grow taller and took on a fiendish cast. She felt the fear rise up and then she mastered it with a sneer. The sneer faded as she saw the wounds on the shadowy-man contine to heal.

Tore finally focused on the man’s mind and let loose with a burst of psychic energy but he shook it off with no apparent effect. Kestral drew her own sword and moved into a flanking position, determined to help.

Kellron, Jared, and Aerseleth contined hacking at their opponent, trying to find a way past the protective shadows. It was Kellron who managed to get the first blow in, with a shouted cry to Sarath.

Whoever this sorcerous man was, he was as fast or faster then Kellron’s dead friend, and just as hard to hit – even without the shifting shadows.

Jallarzi’s next barrage of magic missiles pierced the shadowy veil and struck the man squarely in the chest.

He cried out in pain and a look of panic began to dawn. In retaliation he concentrated briefly and spoke a blasphemous word. A burst of darkness spread from him, blighting the souls of Jallarzi, Kellron, Jared, and Aerseleth. Oddly, Kestral was able to resist the worst of the word. The word could have stunned them all, but fortunately for them it did not.

Jared struck the next blow, wondering perhaps if he should strike to wound but deciding against it. Their opponent’s blade skill was good, but his ability to speak an unholy blight made him something to dangerous to let live unless he was willing to surrender.

The man was oozing blood, but even still he was healing. Not troll-fast, but fast enough. Between that and his own fighting skills he managed to survive the attentions of three trained soldiers for several more seconds.

Surprisingly it was Kestral who managed to strike the next blow. She was out of position though and unable to take full advantage of the tricks Ashimar himself had taught her. Her blow was enough to distract the man for Jared to lay down the killing blow however.

All told the fight took less than a minute. Perhaps even half of that. Jallarzi was hurt the worst between the man’s cowardly stab and the blighting word. Everyone else had managed to avoid any serious harm.

They all traded looks with each other and a glance at the rapidly cooling body. It still looked like Ashimar, though the shadowy cast had left his skin and features. No one seemed to doubt that this was the body of their friend – though none could say what had possessed him to attack them like that.

“I want to know who did this.” Spoke Kellron.

Jared moved towards Jallarzi to provide healing. “We’ll find out.” He promised. “In the morning.”

---

*I just noticed that Kestral’s player is the only one that provided a last name for her character.

 

[Seravin]

Take one dead player character.
Apply the half-fiend template and the shadow template.
Change clerical domains to Evil and War.
Arrange the clerical spell list to taste.

As the players soon found out, the possessing spirt was Granok, a shadow fiend that possessed their friend and was 'hired' to attack them. I chose the half-fiend template to represent a demon-controlled corpse. The shadow template was for flavor.


Granok didn't last long and most of the damage he did was due to surprise more than anything else. If he had more sneak-attack he might have killed Jallarzi, but then he wouldn't have had any pre-cast clerical spells to protect him. Still, the fight probably didn't last more than eight or nine rounds.

Ashimar's player knew something was up before all of this. I had talked with him briefly to make sure it was all right to make Ashimar part of ongoing plot. This was their first introduction to it.

There's a quote I remember: "First, you have to get their attention..."
In this case, their attention was got. Their initial reaction was all that I hoped for. After that it got a little strange.

Fortunately for me I was working on a loose calendar of events. Some events were scheduled to happen at certain times, such as the attack by Granok. Other events were subject to Schrodinger time - in other words they would happen when the players began to look into them. That turned out to be the best approach.