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Seravin's Tales of the Night Below (Two Updates this Week - 07/24/07)
- Thread starter Seravin
- Start date
Finishing Up
“Hopefully Master Laaris is beyond this door.” Opined Ashimar. The door he was referring to was at the far end of the hall from the lab where they had killed the demon-elf. Once the fight had ended Ashimar had been able to confirm that the creature really was demonic. He and Kestral had also been able to confirm that the creature was carrying several odd, hexagonal coins minted from platinum. One side of the strange coins bore a couple odd runes and the reverse side held a geometric shape. None of them had seen their like before.
Kestral stood up from her perusal of the door’s base. “Doesn’t look trapped to me either.” She informed everyone. “And it’s now unlocked. Shall I?”
The five friends looked at each other and nodded their agreement. Kestral turned and slowly worked the latch and pushed the door in. Beyond, was a forest glade sitting under the open sky. Kestral looked back down the hallway and back into the glade.
Off in the distance she could hear birds chirping. Closer in, the branches of the trees were swaying in the wind. Kestral sniffed once and stepped into the room. Ashimar, then Kellron, then Jallarzi and Panther followed her into the room.
It was peaceful. In the center of the glade was a large bush of some sort with yellow and blue flowers. Off to one side it looked as if someone had chopped down two good size trees, hauled the trunk away, and leveled the stump. It was very peaceful.
Jallarzi and Panther reached the same conclusion almost simultaneously. “It’s not real.” Stated Panther, though his voice indicated that he was intrigued..
Kellron looked around and kicked at the grass underfoot. “Seems real enough.”
Ashimar frowned. He couldn’t see through it, even when Jallarzi pointed out the bed in the center of the room or the bureau and the chairs.
Ashimar wandered around the glade looking at the various small trees and plants. The young man stopped when he reached what looked to be a small tree. In reality it was a table. Concealed beneath the illusionary foliage was a miniature dragon made of brass. As Ashimar studied it, the statue blinked. “Guys?” He called out softly as he knelt down to the study the statue more carefully.
Panther and Kestral looked up from the large bush with the flowers. Panther had found a box under the bed and Kestral was trying to puzzle it out. Seeing that Jared was interested in something she and Panther shared a glance. Panther got up and wandered over to see what Ashimar was looking at. Kestral then looked down at the box, figured out the latch and opened it.
Meanwhile the tiny dragon statue had cocked its head at Ashimar. “Hey there.” He said in a non-threatening voice.
“Hey guys! Potions and a wand!” Called out Kestral.
Ashimar winced and looked at the dragon again. “Do you live here?”
Slowly, the dragon bobbed its head once.
“The Library sent us. They’re worried about the owner here.”
Again the dragon statue bobbed its head. The scales along its neck made a very soft ‘tinging’ sound.
“Is Master Laaris here? Alive?” Ashimar was rewarded with two more head bobs.”
At the mention of magical paraphernalia, Jallarzi had wandered over Kestral’s way. The small wooden box was carved with a flower and leaf motif and lined with blue velvet. Laying securely in the folds of the velvet were four potion flasks and a wand made of some dark wood. Jallarzi cautiously examined the flasks markings. “Two Healing, one Dragon’s Breath, and one of Cat’s Grace.” She pronounced, interpreting the markings. Along the length of the wand was imperial script, of nonsense syllables though.
Ashimar was making headway with the little brass dragon. Apparently Laaris was alive but in trouble. “Do you mind if we take the stuff from the box?” He asked politely. “We’ve fought terrible things already and are hurt. If we need to help Master Laaris then we could use all the help we can get ourselves.” The little dragon cocked its head once and finally nodded assent. Ashimar turned his head slightly. “Gather it all up guys.” Then turning to the dragon. “Can you take us to Master Laaris?”
The dragon looked towards the open door and spread it’s wing. With a couple powerful flaps it lifted off the table, though Ashimar couldn’t see how those fragile beaten wings could lift the brass body, and the dragon flew to a bush (table) next to the door out of the glade.
Kellron looked around and then drew his sword. “Lets go.” He pronounced and the five of them followed the little dragon.
For some reason none of them were surprised when the little dragon led them back to room full of mold and fungus. Panther looked at Kestral who looked at Kellron who looked at Ashimar who finally looked at Jallarzi. It was Kellron who spoke first. He didn’t like the idea of going in, but it was needful. “I’ll go in first.” He told them. “Ashimar, back me up.” It wasn’t the most complex of plans but it would do until they had more information. None of them had a good feeling about this though.
Kellron opened the door and peered in with the light of enchanted torch they had picked up in the alchemical lab. The room was about twenty feet across and maybe twice that long. The ceiling vaulted overhead to a height of about twelve feet. In the center of the room was a long shape, perhaps the size of a dining table, with two people size lumps at either end and large mound growing out of the center. Riotous, sickly colors covered everything in textures of slime and fuzz. Kellron took a deep breath and stepped into the room.
Light intruded upon the growing chaos mold. Normally found only in the darkest reaches of the abyss, chaos mold rarely ever saw light. But millions of years of growth had taught the fungus one thing – only food brought light.
As Kellron crossed the threshold of the doorway the mold released its spores in burst, filling the entire room and crossing the threshold into the hallway beyond. The colored spores covered everyone.
The spores affected Ashimar first and some private images caused him to stand still and stare at the walls, unmoving. Amazingly Kellron was able to fend off the effects of the spores. Kestral was overcome with images of demonic elves and orcs surrounding her and she immediately attacked Ashimar out of self-defense. By some stroke of luck neither Jallarzi nor Panther were affected by the spores, both having exhaled at the time the spores had nearly set upon them each. Both of the half-elves wisely decided to back away.
Then the free for all began, being attacked apparently impacted upon Ashimar’s delusions and he pulled his rapier and set upon Kestral. Kellron, shaking his head to clear it became disorientated and stood stock still looking at the images his mind conjured. Worried, Jallarzi dropped a sleep spell on top of her three friends. Fortunately none of them were of the right mind to resist and they all fell to the floor, asleep. “Get the door!” She commanded Panther. Disregarding personal safety, the half-elf bard ran to the door and closed it.
When Ashimar, Kellron, and Kestral came to, they found themselves bound with the very ropes that they had carried.
“Are you all right now?” Asked Jallarzi.
“Except for whatever died in my mouth, yes.” Replied Ashimar. None of the three felt good and a massive headache was promising to develop.
Jallarzi and Panther let their friends sit for a minute before they finally consented to release them. They then conferred for a bit. This time, armed with information, they developed a new plan.
Kestral and Ashimar cut long strips of cloth scavenged from the dead demon-orcs. They then dashed into the kitchen with the flying utensils and wetted them down from a seemingly ever-flowing pipe. Fortunately neither of them was hurt in the process.
Kellron and Ashimar then tied the wet strips of cloth over their mouth and noses. Kestral and Panther took their bows out and along with Jallarzi stayed at the far end of the hall away from the door to the dining room.
Ashimar then looked at the little dragon. “We need you to fly to your master.” He told the little dragon, which nodded assent. So saying, he and Kellron readied themselves, looked at each other, then opened the door.
The little dragon took off like a shot to the lump on the right; the movement causing the chaos mold to erupt in spores again. Unaffected this time, Kellron and Ashimar headed to the body that the little dragon was sitting on top of. They were halted when the lump in the center of the table stood up, and six wicked long branches sprouted from it. For all the world, it looked like a mold-covered mushroom with sharp branches and tendrils hanging from it. The colors were in slime-purple and putrid-green.
One of the branches snapped out and scrapped along Ashimar’s chest. He avoided screaming as fire burnt along the wound. He might have screamed if had seen the poison of the violet fungus cause the skin along the wound to turn black and gangrenous. Ignoring the pain, he drew his rapier and tried to puncture the fungus, putting a cut along
Neither Kestral or Panther had a clear shot at the thing, but they let fly with their arrows anyway. Jallarzi followed up with her last magic missile. Seeing that Ashimar was engaged and knowing there were two lumps in there, Kestral put down her bow and ran down the hallway, taking a deep breath before she got too near the door.
Kellron by this time had grabbed the lump that the dragon was sitting on, and wiped away the mold and slime, revealing a gray-haired man in his late fifties of sixties. The man was in bad shape, obviously dehydrated and starving. Kellron started to drag the man out.
Kestral went around the other side, giving the paladin of Sarath a clear shot to the door. Unfortunately the violet fungus sensed her movement and showed that it had surprising reach with it’s tendril like branches. The branch scored a hit along her arm and it wall Kestral could do to not scream and inahale the spores. The poison of the fungus burned down her arm and the weakness it caused nearly made her collapse under her own weight. This gave Ashimar the opening he needed though, and he was able to stab his rapier deep into the creature’s mushroom like head. Luckily he hit something vital and the violet fungus collapsed to the table, inert.
Kestral and Ashimar were then able to wrestle the second lump away, a young woman, perhaps in her early twenties. She looked to be in nearly as bad a shape as Master Laaris.
The five companions decide to spend the night in Master Laaris’ chambers rather than risk trying to figure out how to leave immediately. Kellron used his battlefield first-aid skills to tend to Master Laaris and his apprentice and Kestral and Ashimar throughout the night. Fortunately Master Laaris and his apprentice recovered quickly under the care and he was able to tell the party a little about what had happened. The five companions felt a little used when they discovered they had been sent in because the other mages feared to face the hakeashar themselves. They consoled themselves with the strange platinum coins though and the remaining potions and the wand that Master Laaris gifted them with.
In the morning Master Laaris used his Master’s Ring to open the gate to the Blasingdale Library, and the seven people walked to the other side to be greeted by a relieved Master Kiel. As promised, he had an enchanted cloak waiting for them. Thanking him the group went out into the city to find lodgings and enjoy the time as the Mid-summer festival neared.
The group stayed in town for nearly a week, waiting for the ring they had commissioned to be finished. In the meantime they rested and spent their time doing what interested them. Kellron spent time at the small chapel of Sarath in the city, learning what he could from the priestess there, while Kestral spent time with a sage trying to pick up what she could about the goblin tongue. Ashimar and Panther roamed the city looking for rumors and generally just barely staying out of trouble; while Jallarzi studied her books and contemplated upon acquiring a familiar. At the end of the sixth day they picked up their new ring and resolve to head out of town in the morning with an early start.
On the morning of the seventh day, as the sun was just barely over the horizon, the group left the city of Blasingdale – perhaps a little regretful about missing the full festival. There were strange rumors and stories about the town leading up to the time before they left. Wererats had attacked the people in the merchants square three days prior and the next day monsters had attacked a play set up in the poor section of the city. Worse, the Library had closed its doors. Fortunately there were mercenaries on hand who had managed to stop these things. The last rumors heard by Kestral was that a party was being thrown in honor of these mercenaries for rooting out the nest of were-rats and bringing down a cabal of evil sorcerers.
Unbeknownst to any of them, if they had delayed their departure even two hours longer the companions would have discovered that the gates would have been barred against anyone leaving.
Four days later the companions presented themselves to the goblin shaman, Burukkleyet, again, this time bearing more food purchased in Milbourne as well as pots and pans and other useful cooking utensils. Burukkleyet seemed like he wanted to renege on the bargain, but the gifts the group bought as well as a useful magic cloak was enough to convince him that it was better to keep up his end of the deal.
Kestral was the one he did the bargaining again, this time with a smattering of goblin words. “Thank you very much.” She said as she handed over the cloak at the same time she took possession of the ring. “You won’t regret this.”
The shaman smiled wanly. “I already do. I’d rather have it all.” He shrugged philosophically. “Still, it’s not a bad deal.”
Not much else to say, Kestral pocketed the ring and the companions made their way back to Milbourne.
“Hopefully Master Laaris is beyond this door.” Opined Ashimar. The door he was referring to was at the far end of the hall from the lab where they had killed the demon-elf. Once the fight had ended Ashimar had been able to confirm that the creature really was demonic. He and Kestral had also been able to confirm that the creature was carrying several odd, hexagonal coins minted from platinum. One side of the strange coins bore a couple odd runes and the reverse side held a geometric shape. None of them had seen their like before.
Kestral stood up from her perusal of the door’s base. “Doesn’t look trapped to me either.” She informed everyone. “And it’s now unlocked. Shall I?”
The five friends looked at each other and nodded their agreement. Kestral turned and slowly worked the latch and pushed the door in. Beyond, was a forest glade sitting under the open sky. Kestral looked back down the hallway and back into the glade.
Off in the distance she could hear birds chirping. Closer in, the branches of the trees were swaying in the wind. Kestral sniffed once and stepped into the room. Ashimar, then Kellron, then Jallarzi and Panther followed her into the room.
It was peaceful. In the center of the glade was a large bush of some sort with yellow and blue flowers. Off to one side it looked as if someone had chopped down two good size trees, hauled the trunk away, and leveled the stump. It was very peaceful.
Jallarzi and Panther reached the same conclusion almost simultaneously. “It’s not real.” Stated Panther, though his voice indicated that he was intrigued..
Kellron looked around and kicked at the grass underfoot. “Seems real enough.”
Ashimar frowned. He couldn’t see through it, even when Jallarzi pointed out the bed in the center of the room or the bureau and the chairs.
Ashimar wandered around the glade looking at the various small trees and plants. The young man stopped when he reached what looked to be a small tree. In reality it was a table. Concealed beneath the illusionary foliage was a miniature dragon made of brass. As Ashimar studied it, the statue blinked. “Guys?” He called out softly as he knelt down to the study the statue more carefully.
Panther and Kestral looked up from the large bush with the flowers. Panther had found a box under the bed and Kestral was trying to puzzle it out. Seeing that Jared was interested in something she and Panther shared a glance. Panther got up and wandered over to see what Ashimar was looking at. Kestral then looked down at the box, figured out the latch and opened it.
Meanwhile the tiny dragon statue had cocked its head at Ashimar. “Hey there.” He said in a non-threatening voice.
“Hey guys! Potions and a wand!” Called out Kestral.
Ashimar winced and looked at the dragon again. “Do you live here?”
Slowly, the dragon bobbed its head once.
“The Library sent us. They’re worried about the owner here.”
Again the dragon statue bobbed its head. The scales along its neck made a very soft ‘tinging’ sound.
“Is Master Laaris here? Alive?” Ashimar was rewarded with two more head bobs.”
At the mention of magical paraphernalia, Jallarzi had wandered over Kestral’s way. The small wooden box was carved with a flower and leaf motif and lined with blue velvet. Laying securely in the folds of the velvet were four potion flasks and a wand made of some dark wood. Jallarzi cautiously examined the flasks markings. “Two Healing, one Dragon’s Breath, and one of Cat’s Grace.” She pronounced, interpreting the markings. Along the length of the wand was imperial script, of nonsense syllables though.
Ashimar was making headway with the little brass dragon. Apparently Laaris was alive but in trouble. “Do you mind if we take the stuff from the box?” He asked politely. “We’ve fought terrible things already and are hurt. If we need to help Master Laaris then we could use all the help we can get ourselves.” The little dragon cocked its head once and finally nodded assent. Ashimar turned his head slightly. “Gather it all up guys.” Then turning to the dragon. “Can you take us to Master Laaris?”
The dragon looked towards the open door and spread it’s wing. With a couple powerful flaps it lifted off the table, though Ashimar couldn’t see how those fragile beaten wings could lift the brass body, and the dragon flew to a bush (table) next to the door out of the glade.
Kellron looked around and then drew his sword. “Lets go.” He pronounced and the five of them followed the little dragon.
For some reason none of them were surprised when the little dragon led them back to room full of mold and fungus. Panther looked at Kestral who looked at Kellron who looked at Ashimar who finally looked at Jallarzi. It was Kellron who spoke first. He didn’t like the idea of going in, but it was needful. “I’ll go in first.” He told them. “Ashimar, back me up.” It wasn’t the most complex of plans but it would do until they had more information. None of them had a good feeling about this though.
Kellron opened the door and peered in with the light of enchanted torch they had picked up in the alchemical lab. The room was about twenty feet across and maybe twice that long. The ceiling vaulted overhead to a height of about twelve feet. In the center of the room was a long shape, perhaps the size of a dining table, with two people size lumps at either end and large mound growing out of the center. Riotous, sickly colors covered everything in textures of slime and fuzz. Kellron took a deep breath and stepped into the room.
Light intruded upon the growing chaos mold. Normally found only in the darkest reaches of the abyss, chaos mold rarely ever saw light. But millions of years of growth had taught the fungus one thing – only food brought light.
As Kellron crossed the threshold of the doorway the mold released its spores in burst, filling the entire room and crossing the threshold into the hallway beyond. The colored spores covered everyone.
The spores affected Ashimar first and some private images caused him to stand still and stare at the walls, unmoving. Amazingly Kellron was able to fend off the effects of the spores. Kestral was overcome with images of demonic elves and orcs surrounding her and she immediately attacked Ashimar out of self-defense. By some stroke of luck neither Jallarzi nor Panther were affected by the spores, both having exhaled at the time the spores had nearly set upon them each. Both of the half-elves wisely decided to back away.
Then the free for all began, being attacked apparently impacted upon Ashimar’s delusions and he pulled his rapier and set upon Kestral. Kellron, shaking his head to clear it became disorientated and stood stock still looking at the images his mind conjured. Worried, Jallarzi dropped a sleep spell on top of her three friends. Fortunately none of them were of the right mind to resist and they all fell to the floor, asleep. “Get the door!” She commanded Panther. Disregarding personal safety, the half-elf bard ran to the door and closed it.
When Ashimar, Kellron, and Kestral came to, they found themselves bound with the very ropes that they had carried.
“Are you all right now?” Asked Jallarzi.
“Except for whatever died in my mouth, yes.” Replied Ashimar. None of the three felt good and a massive headache was promising to develop.
Jallarzi and Panther let their friends sit for a minute before they finally consented to release them. They then conferred for a bit. This time, armed with information, they developed a new plan.
Kestral and Ashimar cut long strips of cloth scavenged from the dead demon-orcs. They then dashed into the kitchen with the flying utensils and wetted them down from a seemingly ever-flowing pipe. Fortunately neither of them was hurt in the process.
Kellron and Ashimar then tied the wet strips of cloth over their mouth and noses. Kestral and Panther took their bows out and along with Jallarzi stayed at the far end of the hall away from the door to the dining room.
Ashimar then looked at the little dragon. “We need you to fly to your master.” He told the little dragon, which nodded assent. So saying, he and Kellron readied themselves, looked at each other, then opened the door.
The little dragon took off like a shot to the lump on the right; the movement causing the chaos mold to erupt in spores again. Unaffected this time, Kellron and Ashimar headed to the body that the little dragon was sitting on top of. They were halted when the lump in the center of the table stood up, and six wicked long branches sprouted from it. For all the world, it looked like a mold-covered mushroom with sharp branches and tendrils hanging from it. The colors were in slime-purple and putrid-green.
One of the branches snapped out and scrapped along Ashimar’s chest. He avoided screaming as fire burnt along the wound. He might have screamed if had seen the poison of the violet fungus cause the skin along the wound to turn black and gangrenous. Ignoring the pain, he drew his rapier and tried to puncture the fungus, putting a cut along
Neither Kestral or Panther had a clear shot at the thing, but they let fly with their arrows anyway. Jallarzi followed up with her last magic missile. Seeing that Ashimar was engaged and knowing there were two lumps in there, Kestral put down her bow and ran down the hallway, taking a deep breath before she got too near the door.
Kellron by this time had grabbed the lump that the dragon was sitting on, and wiped away the mold and slime, revealing a gray-haired man in his late fifties of sixties. The man was in bad shape, obviously dehydrated and starving. Kellron started to drag the man out.
Kestral went around the other side, giving the paladin of Sarath a clear shot to the door. Unfortunately the violet fungus sensed her movement and showed that it had surprising reach with it’s tendril like branches. The branch scored a hit along her arm and it wall Kestral could do to not scream and inahale the spores. The poison of the fungus burned down her arm and the weakness it caused nearly made her collapse under her own weight. This gave Ashimar the opening he needed though, and he was able to stab his rapier deep into the creature’s mushroom like head. Luckily he hit something vital and the violet fungus collapsed to the table, inert.
Kestral and Ashimar were then able to wrestle the second lump away, a young woman, perhaps in her early twenties. She looked to be in nearly as bad a shape as Master Laaris.
The five companions decide to spend the night in Master Laaris’ chambers rather than risk trying to figure out how to leave immediately. Kellron used his battlefield first-aid skills to tend to Master Laaris and his apprentice and Kestral and Ashimar throughout the night. Fortunately Master Laaris and his apprentice recovered quickly under the care and he was able to tell the party a little about what had happened. The five companions felt a little used when they discovered they had been sent in because the other mages feared to face the hakeashar themselves. They consoled themselves with the strange platinum coins though and the remaining potions and the wand that Master Laaris gifted them with.
In the morning Master Laaris used his Master’s Ring to open the gate to the Blasingdale Library, and the seven people walked to the other side to be greeted by a relieved Master Kiel. As promised, he had an enchanted cloak waiting for them. Thanking him the group went out into the city to find lodgings and enjoy the time as the Mid-summer festival neared.
The group stayed in town for nearly a week, waiting for the ring they had commissioned to be finished. In the meantime they rested and spent their time doing what interested them. Kellron spent time at the small chapel of Sarath in the city, learning what he could from the priestess there, while Kestral spent time with a sage trying to pick up what she could about the goblin tongue. Ashimar and Panther roamed the city looking for rumors and generally just barely staying out of trouble; while Jallarzi studied her books and contemplated upon acquiring a familiar. At the end of the sixth day they picked up their new ring and resolve to head out of town in the morning with an early start.
On the morning of the seventh day, as the sun was just barely over the horizon, the group left the city of Blasingdale – perhaps a little regretful about missing the full festival. There were strange rumors and stories about the town leading up to the time before they left. Wererats had attacked the people in the merchants square three days prior and the next day monsters had attacked a play set up in the poor section of the city. Worse, the Library had closed its doors. Fortunately there were mercenaries on hand who had managed to stop these things. The last rumors heard by Kestral was that a party was being thrown in honor of these mercenaries for rooting out the nest of were-rats and bringing down a cabal of evil sorcerers.
Unbeknownst to any of them, if they had delayed their departure even two hours longer the companions would have discovered that the gates would have been barred against anyone leaving.
Four days later the companions presented themselves to the goblin shaman, Burukkleyet, again, this time bearing more food purchased in Milbourne as well as pots and pans and other useful cooking utensils. Burukkleyet seemed like he wanted to renege on the bargain, but the gifts the group bought as well as a useful magic cloak was enough to convince him that it was better to keep up his end of the deal.
Kestral was the one he did the bargaining again, this time with a smattering of goblin words. “Thank you very much.” She said as she handed over the cloak at the same time she took possession of the ring. “You won’t regret this.”
The shaman smiled wanly. “I already do. I’d rather have it all.” He shrugged philosophically. “Still, it’s not a bad deal.”
Not much else to say, Kestral pocketed the ring and the companions made their way back to Milbourne.
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Thanks for the kind words. The hardest part is always finding additional time to do these updates. I'm currently dm'ing two games, both of which are fun and generally take precedence over the updates.
The problem is that both games are very challanging and require more preparation now that the players are higher level. In this particular game, the characters are coming up on their one year anniversary with each other and are approaching 15th level.
The good news is that I have a year's worth of stories to tell already (and that's just for this game). In the meantime I hope to pick up some writing tips while I read Sepulchrave's and Piratecat's posts.
As a side note, I was running a different group of characters in my other game during this same time period. For a variety of reasons (some planned, some not) this game got placed and started nearby the other group in which I was running the Adventure Path series. Some folks might recognize a bit of Forge of Fury and the Speaker of Dreams in the background text concerning Blasingdale.
Naturally both games were progressing at different rates, and when I was starting to compare the dates I realized that there was about to be a bit of overlap. If the players had stayed over just a few hours more the gates would have been locked and I would have had to prepare something else to keep them occupied
It's been fun.
The problem is that both games are very challanging and require more preparation now that the players are higher level. In this particular game, the characters are coming up on their one year anniversary with each other and are approaching 15th level.
The good news is that I have a year's worth of stories to tell already (and that's just for this game). In the meantime I hope to pick up some writing tips while I read Sepulchrave's and Piratecat's posts.
As a side note, I was running a different group of characters in my other game during this same time period. For a variety of reasons (some planned, some not) this game got placed and started nearby the other group in which I was running the Adventure Path series. Some folks might recognize a bit of Forge of Fury and the Speaker of Dreams in the background text concerning Blasingdale.
Naturally both games were progressing at different rates, and when I was starting to compare the dates I realized that there was about to be a bit of overlap. If the players had stayed over just a few hours more the gates would have been locked and I would have had to prepare something else to keep them occupied
It's been fun.
Further Notes
As I noted above, this game has been going on now for about a year and a half now and I wasn't taking very good notes back then.
The last post is my best attempt at reconstructing the bits and pieces and as I recall them. The next several posts are going to be like that too.
Additionally the dialog is mostly a fabrication based on the players discussions as I recall them. Fortunately a couple of my players are reading this story hour so if I make any mistakes they should correct me.
Also, I had to edit the last story post a bit. One of the rumors the party heard was that the Library had closed its doors while all the strange going-ons were happening.
As I noted above, this game has been going on now for about a year and a half now and I wasn't taking very good notes back then.
The last post is my best attempt at reconstructing the bits and pieces and as I recall them. The next several posts are going to be like that too.
Additionally the dialog is mostly a fabrication based on the players discussions as I recall them. Fortunately a couple of my players are reading this story hour so if I make any mistakes they should correct me.
Also, I had to edit the last story post a bit. One of the rumors the party heard was that the Library had closed its doors while all the strange going-ons were happening.
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Ack! A week already?
No update today, and probably not for the rest of the week.
However after looking over the logs after the last game session I discovered it's time to raise a glass and toast a memory of sorts.
One year ago (game time), Kellron, Jallarzi, Ashimar, Panther and Kestral all met. Fittingly enough those who remain spent the anniversary much the way they had on their first meeting - planning and executing an ambush.
For those who no longer remain it would be kind of you to lift your glass again. Vieta Soultaker has laid her gentle hands on more than one of these friends, and The Emmeresa (the Ladies of Fate and History) have shown no favorites.
In another day or so their anniversary of accepting their first joint courier commission will come to pass, and after that their arrival in Milbourne and the day they took up the quest to find the missing apprentice, Jelenneth.
It's been a pretty good journey so far. I can't wait to tell you about the City of Corlean and how [Deleted by imperiel Security] and especially how the [likewise deleted] caught fire.
Their first explorations in the Night Below were pretty exciting; and the initial meetings with the secret creatures who dwell beneath the ground have kept their interest up.
Now the companions are entering [Location made secret to keep mercenaries with more greed then sense out] and have brought back the wealth of entire kingdoms [Denied by the Imperial Treasury - all rumors to the wealth flooding the Duchy of Larence are just that, rumors.]
I'll try to have another post by Saturday.
No update today, and probably not for the rest of the week.
However after looking over the logs after the last game session I discovered it's time to raise a glass and toast a memory of sorts.
One year ago (game time), Kellron, Jallarzi, Ashimar, Panther and Kestral all met. Fittingly enough those who remain spent the anniversary much the way they had on their first meeting - planning and executing an ambush.
For those who no longer remain it would be kind of you to lift your glass again. Vieta Soultaker has laid her gentle hands on more than one of these friends, and The Emmeresa (the Ladies of Fate and History) have shown no favorites.
In another day or so their anniversary of accepting their first joint courier commission will come to pass, and after that their arrival in Milbourne and the day they took up the quest to find the missing apprentice, Jelenneth.
It's been a pretty good journey so far. I can't wait to tell you about the City of Corlean and how [Deleted by imperiel Security] and especially how the [likewise deleted] caught fire.
Their first explorations in the Night Below were pretty exciting; and the initial meetings with the secret creatures who dwell beneath the ground have kept their interest up.
Now the companions are entering [Location made secret to keep mercenaries with more greed then sense out] and have brought back the wealth of entire kingdoms [Denied by the Imperial Treasury - all rumors to the wealth flooding the Duchy of Larence are just that, rumors.]
I'll try to have another post by Saturday.
People Talking
The Baron of Mutton is a small inn and tavern in the center of the village of Milbourne. The building itself was about sixty years old, constructed by an accomplished war veteran named Dirakster as a place where he could spend his years in peace. Old Dirakster still owned the building though he left the running of the business to his two grandsons Andren and Barthelew. Dirakster himself was crotchety and the oldest living human in the region; predictably the old man used those two facts to his advantage. Currently however the old man was sleeping off one of his famous large lunches while his grandson Barthelew was keeping watch over the main room. Andren had been in the room, but once he discovered that their current guests still had no word of Jelenneth he had left to brood.
In the corner of the room around a small table, the five companions picked at their food and discussed what to do next. The magical ring they had labored so hard to get sat somewhat innocuously in the center of the table under their watchful gaze. So far it had yet to manifest any magical powers though Jallarzi was left squinting for several minutes after attempting to ascertain its magical strength.
“So, where do we go from here?” Asked Panther. “None of the histories or texts I’ve come across have ever mentioned anything like this.” He said waving a hand at the ring. “The wave symbol looks water related, but who knows?”
“There’s a spell or two that might work.” Suggested Jallarzi. “One is suppose to be easy enough but it should reveal some of the minor magics of the ring. The other is well beyond my ability to cast. Neither one is cheap.”
Ashimar looked at the white-haired sorceress. “Can you do the first one then?”
Jallarzi shook her head. “No, it wasn’t in the book Tauster gave me but there are notes about it in the margins. It’s not cheap to cast either.”
Kellron looked at his friends. “So, Tauster? Or the Blasingdale Library? They’re both about the same distance away.”
Jallarzi considered for all of about a second. “I’d prefer Tauster. I’m all the way through the book he gave me and it’s given me some food for thought.” The half-elf drifted off for a moment momentarily racing after a bit of magical theory. She knew she was near a breakthrough.
Panther and Kestral exchanged glances, but it was Panther who spoke first. “I was checking around while Kellron and Kestral were checking back in with Lord Carman. There’s a barge headed down river and they’re looking for a bit of protection. Rumor has it that a tribe of orcs has settled just north of Blasingdale and these guys don’t want to take any chances. They’re bringing equipment to Count Parlfray and are willing to pay upwards to two hundred gold pieces for an experienced group of guards who will journey all the way to keep.”
Ashimar looked at the half-elf bard like he was deranged. “For guard duty? What do they have that needs that much protection?”
Panther just shrugged. “Heck if I know but the captain seemed awfully concerned about orcs. Apparently there’s been some trouble in Blasingdale since we left though none of the stories make sense. Best I can tell is that Baron Athon closed up the city right after we left and the gates weren’t opened for two days. One of the guardsmen says that some sort of river-monster attacks boats that get too close to Blasingdale and everyone asserts that there are hundreds of orcs in the vicinity of Blasingdale.” Panther cocked his head to one side. “I don’t know if any of this is true but they seem awfully worried.”
The five conferred for a few more minutes but eventually it was decided. “On to Thurmaster it is.” Declared Kestral. “Jallarzi can talk to Tauster, he identifies the magics on the ring, we all earn lots of gold, and my courier business stays profitable.”
So saying, Kestral and Panther went off to find the captain of the barge (staying at the Silver Crown, Milbourne’s other tavern and only dive) and offer their services. They weren’t necessarily the best example of the group’s fighting prowess but by the time they were finished talking to the barge captain, he was convinced that he was hiring the Emporer’s guards himself. Talk of facing an ogre and surviving (“I swear on my mother’s grace that Kellron took a blow from the beast and still stood. In fact the beast wouldn’t even come out from its’ lair after seeing Kellron still standing”) and facing down the goblins who were now inhabiting New Mire (“Ashimar went in alone by himself and took out three in place guards before we could even get there.”) all piqued the man’s interest, but it was tales of Jallarzi that finally made him agree to hiring the five people, prowess unseen (“And we have a mage. She’s fought demons with her spells and we can get the Library to back that up.”)
Unfortunately neither of the pair noticed that they were being observed as they bargained with the captain. The man was non-descript, dressed in well-worn clothes with hair and skin coloring that indicated that he was a native to the area. After Kestral and Panther left the tavern to go inform their friends of their new employment the man quietly got up and left. He made his way to the stables, collected his horse after paying the stablehand, and then took his horse and forded the river to the south side, and rode as hard as he could eastwards. His boss was going to be interested in this news. The white-haired witch was just what he was looking for.
The Baron of Mutton is a small inn and tavern in the center of the village of Milbourne. The building itself was about sixty years old, constructed by an accomplished war veteran named Dirakster as a place where he could spend his years in peace. Old Dirakster still owned the building though he left the running of the business to his two grandsons Andren and Barthelew. Dirakster himself was crotchety and the oldest living human in the region; predictably the old man used those two facts to his advantage. Currently however the old man was sleeping off one of his famous large lunches while his grandson Barthelew was keeping watch over the main room. Andren had been in the room, but once he discovered that their current guests still had no word of Jelenneth he had left to brood.
In the corner of the room around a small table, the five companions picked at their food and discussed what to do next. The magical ring they had labored so hard to get sat somewhat innocuously in the center of the table under their watchful gaze. So far it had yet to manifest any magical powers though Jallarzi was left squinting for several minutes after attempting to ascertain its magical strength.
“So, where do we go from here?” Asked Panther. “None of the histories or texts I’ve come across have ever mentioned anything like this.” He said waving a hand at the ring. “The wave symbol looks water related, but who knows?”
“There’s a spell or two that might work.” Suggested Jallarzi. “One is suppose to be easy enough but it should reveal some of the minor magics of the ring. The other is well beyond my ability to cast. Neither one is cheap.”
Ashimar looked at the white-haired sorceress. “Can you do the first one then?”
Jallarzi shook her head. “No, it wasn’t in the book Tauster gave me but there are notes about it in the margins. It’s not cheap to cast either.”
Kellron looked at his friends. “So, Tauster? Or the Blasingdale Library? They’re both about the same distance away.”
Jallarzi considered for all of about a second. “I’d prefer Tauster. I’m all the way through the book he gave me and it’s given me some food for thought.” The half-elf drifted off for a moment momentarily racing after a bit of magical theory. She knew she was near a breakthrough.
Panther and Kestral exchanged glances, but it was Panther who spoke first. “I was checking around while Kellron and Kestral were checking back in with Lord Carman. There’s a barge headed down river and they’re looking for a bit of protection. Rumor has it that a tribe of orcs has settled just north of Blasingdale and these guys don’t want to take any chances. They’re bringing equipment to Count Parlfray and are willing to pay upwards to two hundred gold pieces for an experienced group of guards who will journey all the way to keep.”
Ashimar looked at the half-elf bard like he was deranged. “For guard duty? What do they have that needs that much protection?”
Panther just shrugged. “Heck if I know but the captain seemed awfully concerned about orcs. Apparently there’s been some trouble in Blasingdale since we left though none of the stories make sense. Best I can tell is that Baron Athon closed up the city right after we left and the gates weren’t opened for two days. One of the guardsmen says that some sort of river-monster attacks boats that get too close to Blasingdale and everyone asserts that there are hundreds of orcs in the vicinity of Blasingdale.” Panther cocked his head to one side. “I don’t know if any of this is true but they seem awfully worried.”
The five conferred for a few more minutes but eventually it was decided. “On to Thurmaster it is.” Declared Kestral. “Jallarzi can talk to Tauster, he identifies the magics on the ring, we all earn lots of gold, and my courier business stays profitable.”
So saying, Kestral and Panther went off to find the captain of the barge (staying at the Silver Crown, Milbourne’s other tavern and only dive) and offer their services. They weren’t necessarily the best example of the group’s fighting prowess but by the time they were finished talking to the barge captain, he was convinced that he was hiring the Emporer’s guards himself. Talk of facing an ogre and surviving (“I swear on my mother’s grace that Kellron took a blow from the beast and still stood. In fact the beast wouldn’t even come out from its’ lair after seeing Kellron still standing”) and facing down the goblins who were now inhabiting New Mire (“Ashimar went in alone by himself and took out three in place guards before we could even get there.”) all piqued the man’s interest, but it was tales of Jallarzi that finally made him agree to hiring the five people, prowess unseen (“And we have a mage. She’s fought demons with her spells and we can get the Library to back that up.”)
Unfortunately neither of the pair noticed that they were being observed as they bargained with the captain. The man was non-descript, dressed in well-worn clothes with hair and skin coloring that indicated that he was a native to the area. After Kestral and Panther left the tavern to go inform their friends of their new employment the man quietly got up and left. He made his way to the stables, collected his horse after paying the stablehand, and then took his horse and forded the river to the south side, and rode as hard as he could eastwards. His boss was going to be interested in this news. The white-haired witch was just what he was looking for.
Other Places
Perspective can be funny.
The Elves of the Sea with their great navies had long since established that the world crafted by the gods was round. They had perceived the horizon and tracked the movement of the stars and were satisfied with their pronouncements. Thus the first boundary was proclaimed.
The halfling explorer, Porun Tanfed, had once flown his tamed iron-roc to the ‘very edge of the vault of the sky’. He claimed that the air and the cold had rendered him nearly unconscious and would have killed him save for the magics he bore. The dragon-sage Sarzenthelenthh acknowledged the explorer’s claim and noted that her kin had found the sky ended in a dark void. And so the second boundary was noted.
The meanings of the Two Great Boundaries were a subject of debate amongst philosophers, sages, priests, and wizards for many years; and it is still touched upon even today. Perhaps the world is finite because the power of the gods is finite. Perhaps it is finite because the gods want the various races to battle for their enjoyment. Perhaps the world is a crucible to make the mortal races stronger.
Perhaps the best answer on the subject was delivered by some unnamed farmer of the Dor-Herivan Empire some three thousand years ago. Three sages were traveling to some city and to pass the time were discussing ‘The Great Boundaries’ and predictably had reached an impasse. In frustration they approached a farmer whose field they were passing to have him render judgment on what they perceived to be the self-evidence of their respective cases. Reportedly the farmer listened politely to all of them. The farmer then looked out across his fields to the mountains. He then looked out across the road to the plains beyond. “You say that the world is small? I have my farm and till my soil in peace. Me and my children and their children could journey our entire lives and never see this entire world and you say it’s small? Perhaps you ought to take a look around and stop wasting my time.”
Of course time has moved on as it inevitably does and new theories have arisen to fit new observations.
The Elves of the Sea now speak of a race of tritons that rule far beneath the waves. These tritons acknowledge that in some places there is a floor to the sea, but they acknowledge no boundary, saying instead that the oceans of the world flow into The Great Sea, home of Dyanna.
The dwarves, rarely asked of their opinion on weighty philosophical matters, snort when asked about the boundaries of the world. They have known for ages that Tasa formed the world from The Deep Earth from which there is no ‘other side’.
Foresters and rangers who have walked the various woodlands claim that all take longer to traverse than their size would suggest. They talk of hidden valleys and even deserts that can be found deep within all forests. Some even talk of vast kingdoms of Faerie.
Now wizards and sages versed in multi-dimensional magics point out that a sphere is only contained in a three-dimensional space. These learned people view The Great Sea, The Deep Earth, and the Forest Kingdoms of the Fey as part of the same world that everyone else sees. In some cases it is even easier to reach these far realms then it would be to traverse the local kingdom.
Perspective it seems is entirely subjective.
Perspective can be funny.
The Elves of the Sea with their great navies had long since established that the world crafted by the gods was round. They had perceived the horizon and tracked the movement of the stars and were satisfied with their pronouncements. Thus the first boundary was proclaimed.
The halfling explorer, Porun Tanfed, had once flown his tamed iron-roc to the ‘very edge of the vault of the sky’. He claimed that the air and the cold had rendered him nearly unconscious and would have killed him save for the magics he bore. The dragon-sage Sarzenthelenthh acknowledged the explorer’s claim and noted that her kin had found the sky ended in a dark void. And so the second boundary was noted.
The meanings of the Two Great Boundaries were a subject of debate amongst philosophers, sages, priests, and wizards for many years; and it is still touched upon even today. Perhaps the world is finite because the power of the gods is finite. Perhaps it is finite because the gods want the various races to battle for their enjoyment. Perhaps the world is a crucible to make the mortal races stronger.
Perhaps the best answer on the subject was delivered by some unnamed farmer of the Dor-Herivan Empire some three thousand years ago. Three sages were traveling to some city and to pass the time were discussing ‘The Great Boundaries’ and predictably had reached an impasse. In frustration they approached a farmer whose field they were passing to have him render judgment on what they perceived to be the self-evidence of their respective cases. Reportedly the farmer listened politely to all of them. The farmer then looked out across his fields to the mountains. He then looked out across the road to the plains beyond. “You say that the world is small? I have my farm and till my soil in peace. Me and my children and their children could journey our entire lives and never see this entire world and you say it’s small? Perhaps you ought to take a look around and stop wasting my time.”
Of course time has moved on as it inevitably does and new theories have arisen to fit new observations.
The Elves of the Sea now speak of a race of tritons that rule far beneath the waves. These tritons acknowledge that in some places there is a floor to the sea, but they acknowledge no boundary, saying instead that the oceans of the world flow into The Great Sea, home of Dyanna.
The dwarves, rarely asked of their opinion on weighty philosophical matters, snort when asked about the boundaries of the world. They have known for ages that Tasa formed the world from The Deep Earth from which there is no ‘other side’.
Foresters and rangers who have walked the various woodlands claim that all take longer to traverse than their size would suggest. They talk of hidden valleys and even deserts that can be found deep within all forests. Some even talk of vast kingdoms of Faerie.
Now wizards and sages versed in multi-dimensional magics point out that a sphere is only contained in a three-dimensional space. These learned people view The Great Sea, The Deep Earth, and the Forest Kingdoms of the Fey as part of the same world that everyone else sees. In some cases it is even easier to reach these far realms then it would be to traverse the local kingdom.
Perspective it seems is entirely subjective.
Celestial Decisions
Some time after a certain quintet of heroes had gathered and proven themselves there was a council in the Higher Realms, also known as Moran’s Rest, Heaven, and Godshome. A mortal attending this council would not have heard or seen much unless those invited intended so. Still, the very weight of the thoughts of those invited would have intruded upon this visitor.
First, and most important, a vast and strange alien city would have been featured, burned into this hypothetical mortal’s mind. Twisting, organic shapes and an awful sense of purpose would have pushed this mortal to the edge of consciousness.
Next, the image of a child-goddess would have been featured. Avia, Lady of Magic, Binder of Chaos, The Chaos-Child. Her grave, multi-hued eyes would have a gravity and sadness that would have stunned those who have heard the stories about her. A sense of helplessness would have drove this hypothetical mortal to his knees as images of wizards march down a deep, dark, winding tunnel filled with grasping tentacles.
Next would be images of a group of humans and half-elves; raw and untested. A sense of questions being raised and dismissed fills the council chamber for several minutes. The potential of these mortals, viewed through the eyes of the attendees, is obviously high. However potential is not actuality. That requires tests and time. A sense of immediacy fills the air.
Interference is the next suggestion but immediately dismissed. The law is clear and interference is forbidden regardless of the actions of others.
But…
Blessings are permitted. Nothing direct, but small touches are allowed, driven by the strength and potential of the chosen.
Consensus and a decision are reached. The mortals will have the blessings of the attendees, driven by the strength of the mortals potential. Where most mortals would require time to assimilate their lessons, that requirement is waived for as long as the mortals strive. Next, for those that die, and some certainly will, a decision to relax the restriction of death is made. Sacrifice willing, these mortals will be allowed back to the realms of the living if they so choose.
The other side would see of course and provide their own counter blessing as allowed by the rules – but that would be for later.
The council was adjourned only minutes after its inception. Five devas flew upward, rising like stars, on a mission to bestow the great blessings given into their care.
___________________________________________
It was about this time I started thinking about implementing training rules and how raise dead and resurrection would fit into my game. After this is all over I’m going to implement training rules, but decided it didn’t fit the current feel of the game. It was already going to take a long time to complete and there was a sense of immediacy that might be lost if the characters had to take successively longer breaks to level up.
As for the various ‘Raise’ spells, I had decided early on to introduce two caveats. First, a priest would do a Commune first to verify that it was all right to perform the Raise Dead spell (Resurrections are almost unheard of). Secondly, in favor of some sort of imposed balance, for every good guy that gets a second chance, the forces of evil get to bring back an equivalent strength bad guy (and vice-versa). At one point I had also decided that only priests of Moran, Niela, and Vieta would be able to cast Raise Dead – but decided later on for the sake of convenience and the story to relax that a bit.
The above is how I explained it all in my head.
Some time after a certain quintet of heroes had gathered and proven themselves there was a council in the Higher Realms, also known as Moran’s Rest, Heaven, and Godshome. A mortal attending this council would not have heard or seen much unless those invited intended so. Still, the very weight of the thoughts of those invited would have intruded upon this visitor.
First, and most important, a vast and strange alien city would have been featured, burned into this hypothetical mortal’s mind. Twisting, organic shapes and an awful sense of purpose would have pushed this mortal to the edge of consciousness.
Next, the image of a child-goddess would have been featured. Avia, Lady of Magic, Binder of Chaos, The Chaos-Child. Her grave, multi-hued eyes would have a gravity and sadness that would have stunned those who have heard the stories about her. A sense of helplessness would have drove this hypothetical mortal to his knees as images of wizards march down a deep, dark, winding tunnel filled with grasping tentacles.
Next would be images of a group of humans and half-elves; raw and untested. A sense of questions being raised and dismissed fills the council chamber for several minutes. The potential of these mortals, viewed through the eyes of the attendees, is obviously high. However potential is not actuality. That requires tests and time. A sense of immediacy fills the air.
Interference is the next suggestion but immediately dismissed. The law is clear and interference is forbidden regardless of the actions of others.
But…
Blessings are permitted. Nothing direct, but small touches are allowed, driven by the strength and potential of the chosen.
Consensus and a decision are reached. The mortals will have the blessings of the attendees, driven by the strength of the mortals potential. Where most mortals would require time to assimilate their lessons, that requirement is waived for as long as the mortals strive. Next, for those that die, and some certainly will, a decision to relax the restriction of death is made. Sacrifice willing, these mortals will be allowed back to the realms of the living if they so choose.
The other side would see of course and provide their own counter blessing as allowed by the rules – but that would be for later.
The council was adjourned only minutes after its inception. Five devas flew upward, rising like stars, on a mission to bestow the great blessings given into their care.
___________________________________________
It was about this time I started thinking about implementing training rules and how raise dead and resurrection would fit into my game. After this is all over I’m going to implement training rules, but decided it didn’t fit the current feel of the game. It was already going to take a long time to complete and there was a sense of immediacy that might be lost if the characters had to take successively longer breaks to level up.
As for the various ‘Raise’ spells, I had decided early on to introduce two caveats. First, a priest would do a Commune first to verify that it was all right to perform the Raise Dead spell (Resurrections are almost unheard of). Secondly, in favor of some sort of imposed balance, for every good guy that gets a second chance, the forces of evil get to bring back an equivalent strength bad guy (and vice-versa). At one point I had also decided that only priests of Moran, Niela, and Vieta would be able to cast Raise Dead – but decided later on for the sake of convenience and the story to relax that a bit.
The above is how I explained it all in my head.
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Rafting on the Churnett
A few days past Midsummer – a little over a month since the group met
It was raining. That’s all it had been doing for the last three days since the flat-bottom river barge had left Milbourne. Captain Peresten looked at the skies and cursed yet again while he pulled his cloak tighter about him. Hard to believe it was only a week since mid-summer. It was cooler than usual and the small, cold droplets of rain didn’t help. Still and all the trip was quieter than the rumors suggested he had any right to expect and even if trouble did show, the new guards he hired had quite a reputation. Orcs? He thought. Let them try.
No, the only thing he had to worry about on this trip was the higher than usual river. The Churnett was rougher than usual, almost like Dyanna herself was mad. It had slowed their progress a bit as he was being careful. They’d be at Parlfray Keep by tomorrow night though.
Later
Ashimar and Beren had guard duty. Beren was one of the captain’s permanent boat handlers; a likeable fellow in most ways to Ashimar’s way of thinking. Meaning that while on the job, Beren knew how to be quiet. The captain had decided to camp a little early this evening, next to a small copse of trees that would provide shelter if the rain came back.
The two of them were standing a bit away from the sleepers, just casually walking around in order to keep awake. Neither of them was really expecting any trouble. Sure, there had been bandit activity south of here a couple years ago, even rumors of werebeasts, but the guard post stationed at Widdenbred Dale had put those menaces down. Sure, the cargo was obviously valuable (weapons and armor – Ashimar had checked), but it wasn’t the sort of cargo that was easy to carry away or easy to fence.
So neither one of the two men was expecting trouble. Which made it especially impressive when Ashimar heard the noise. It was really just a faint rustling of the leaves followed by a bit of silence. Ashimar had really good ears.
Unfortunately he and Beren were just a little slow in moving and several arrows came shooting out of the darkness at him and his fellow guard. “Bandits!” Yelled Ashimar. “Wake up!” He urged as he drew his rapier. In the darkness he could hear men approaching. Seconds later two men charged out of the woods straight for the two guardsmen. Ashimar and Beren met the attack head on and the battle was joined.
Kellron was quickly up, followed by Kestral, Panther, Jallarzi, and the other three boatmen. Kellron quickly gathered up his shield and sword and joined Ashimar in the fight. Kestral drew her bow but in the darkness she couldn’t see much; unlike the bandits who seemed unimpaired by the darkness. Panther and Jallarzi were able to help out by laying down light spells.
The fighting was furious, made more-so when the hidden bowmen emerged from the woods to take up arms against the group. Upon seeing them, Jallarzi hit the newcomers with a sleep spell, downing about half of them with a magical slumber.
Then the voice came from the other side of the camp; an invocation to the darkness to steal away the slumber and the men awoke. Jallarzi cursed and began looking for the new threat. She wasn’t able to find him though until the newcomer invoked his second prayer, freezing Ashimar in place. The new threat was a man of medium build with a ragged black cloak with his hood pulled low. He was wearing fine chainmail and in his off-hand was carrying a large flail.
Fortunately for the travelers, the tide of battle had started to turn in their favor. Already the first two bandits had been laid low. Kestral had been forced to drop her bow and draw her sword in order to defend Jallarzi, but she was doing moderately well, her slight strength not withstanding.
Kellron downed the bandit he was fighting and charged the newcomer. The newcomer smiled lazily and readied his weapon. “I’ll dedicate your soul to Tresh!” Threatened the dark haired man.
Kellron’s eyes narrowed at the name of the Dark Tyrant. With a yell he channeled all his might into his next blow. “Sarath!” The blow connected and drove the man back, but he gamely stepped forward and swung also.
Meanwhile Kestral, Panther, Jallarzi, and the boatsmen were holding their own. Two of Captain Peresten’s men were down, including Beren; but Kestral and Jallarzi were able to drop another bandit, leaving two left. Panther was tending to the fallen boatsmen.
The newcomer was no fool. He might take the Sarathian fool in front of him; but then, he might not. There was always another day and he had their measure now. “Tevel.” It was a nonsense word, bearing no meaning that he was ever able to determine. No meaning except it caused his cloak to write and split, forming great bat wings. “Next time, fool.” He promised Kellron, leaping into the air and flying southwards.
As the Treshan flew away, he passed the still frozen Ashimar’s line of sight. The young man’s keen eyesight easily spotted the eyepatch the hooded man was wearing.
The two remaining bandits seeing their boss flee tried to emulate him. They made it about fifteen feet before Jallarzi’s next spell dropped the both of them.
A search of the bodies didn’t reveal anything other than some empty flasks, some coins, and the arms and armor the bandits bore. Although one of them had a well-crafted bow that Jallarzi confirmed as magical.
As for the two prisoners they had captured, neither one cared to talk. Even when threatened with the hanging they would almost certainly receive when turned over to the authorities in Thurmaster. Their loyalty and reticence was unusual and both bore a faint fishy smell that was more in place of a seaside dock than out in the middle of the woods.
For his part, Captain Peresten was well pleased of the protection he had bought. It would have been very grim if these strangers hadn’t been around to help. He probably wouldn’t have felt that way if he had known that the attack was entirely because of those strangers. Just as well, really.
The next morning it only took a few hours to get going again and make it to the banks of the river next to Thurmaster. While Kellron and Panther helped unload the barge, Ashimar escorted Jallarzi and Kestral to go see Tauster again. It had been a unanimous, if unvoiced, decision to make sure that Jallarzi was never left alone again.
Tauster was pleased to see the white-haired sorceress again and was pleased with her progress when he quizzed her about various sections on the book. When told of their recent adventures at the Library in Blasingdale however he grew quiet, and to Kestral he seemed fearful even.
Still, the old mage brushed it off quickly enough and was quite interested in the ring they had bargained from the goblins. It was likely he could have kept them there all day talking about it, but the three had to move on to catch up with the wagon train. Tauster bid them farewell and promised to have some more information the next afternoon.
A few days past Midsummer – a little over a month since the group met
It was raining. That’s all it had been doing for the last three days since the flat-bottom river barge had left Milbourne. Captain Peresten looked at the skies and cursed yet again while he pulled his cloak tighter about him. Hard to believe it was only a week since mid-summer. It was cooler than usual and the small, cold droplets of rain didn’t help. Still and all the trip was quieter than the rumors suggested he had any right to expect and even if trouble did show, the new guards he hired had quite a reputation. Orcs? He thought. Let them try.
No, the only thing he had to worry about on this trip was the higher than usual river. The Churnett was rougher than usual, almost like Dyanna herself was mad. It had slowed their progress a bit as he was being careful. They’d be at Parlfray Keep by tomorrow night though.
Later
Ashimar and Beren had guard duty. Beren was one of the captain’s permanent boat handlers; a likeable fellow in most ways to Ashimar’s way of thinking. Meaning that while on the job, Beren knew how to be quiet. The captain had decided to camp a little early this evening, next to a small copse of trees that would provide shelter if the rain came back.
The two of them were standing a bit away from the sleepers, just casually walking around in order to keep awake. Neither of them was really expecting any trouble. Sure, there had been bandit activity south of here a couple years ago, even rumors of werebeasts, but the guard post stationed at Widdenbred Dale had put those menaces down. Sure, the cargo was obviously valuable (weapons and armor – Ashimar had checked), but it wasn’t the sort of cargo that was easy to carry away or easy to fence.
So neither one of the two men was expecting trouble. Which made it especially impressive when Ashimar heard the noise. It was really just a faint rustling of the leaves followed by a bit of silence. Ashimar had really good ears.
Unfortunately he and Beren were just a little slow in moving and several arrows came shooting out of the darkness at him and his fellow guard. “Bandits!” Yelled Ashimar. “Wake up!” He urged as he drew his rapier. In the darkness he could hear men approaching. Seconds later two men charged out of the woods straight for the two guardsmen. Ashimar and Beren met the attack head on and the battle was joined.
Kellron was quickly up, followed by Kestral, Panther, Jallarzi, and the other three boatmen. Kellron quickly gathered up his shield and sword and joined Ashimar in the fight. Kestral drew her bow but in the darkness she couldn’t see much; unlike the bandits who seemed unimpaired by the darkness. Panther and Jallarzi were able to help out by laying down light spells.
The fighting was furious, made more-so when the hidden bowmen emerged from the woods to take up arms against the group. Upon seeing them, Jallarzi hit the newcomers with a sleep spell, downing about half of them with a magical slumber.
Then the voice came from the other side of the camp; an invocation to the darkness to steal away the slumber and the men awoke. Jallarzi cursed and began looking for the new threat. She wasn’t able to find him though until the newcomer invoked his second prayer, freezing Ashimar in place. The new threat was a man of medium build with a ragged black cloak with his hood pulled low. He was wearing fine chainmail and in his off-hand was carrying a large flail.
Fortunately for the travelers, the tide of battle had started to turn in their favor. Already the first two bandits had been laid low. Kestral had been forced to drop her bow and draw her sword in order to defend Jallarzi, but she was doing moderately well, her slight strength not withstanding.
Kellron downed the bandit he was fighting and charged the newcomer. The newcomer smiled lazily and readied his weapon. “I’ll dedicate your soul to Tresh!” Threatened the dark haired man.
Kellron’s eyes narrowed at the name of the Dark Tyrant. With a yell he channeled all his might into his next blow. “Sarath!” The blow connected and drove the man back, but he gamely stepped forward and swung also.
Meanwhile Kestral, Panther, Jallarzi, and the boatsmen were holding their own. Two of Captain Peresten’s men were down, including Beren; but Kestral and Jallarzi were able to drop another bandit, leaving two left. Panther was tending to the fallen boatsmen.
The newcomer was no fool. He might take the Sarathian fool in front of him; but then, he might not. There was always another day and he had their measure now. “Tevel.” It was a nonsense word, bearing no meaning that he was ever able to determine. No meaning except it caused his cloak to write and split, forming great bat wings. “Next time, fool.” He promised Kellron, leaping into the air and flying southwards.
As the Treshan flew away, he passed the still frozen Ashimar’s line of sight. The young man’s keen eyesight easily spotted the eyepatch the hooded man was wearing.
The two remaining bandits seeing their boss flee tried to emulate him. They made it about fifteen feet before Jallarzi’s next spell dropped the both of them.
A search of the bodies didn’t reveal anything other than some empty flasks, some coins, and the arms and armor the bandits bore. Although one of them had a well-crafted bow that Jallarzi confirmed as magical.
As for the two prisoners they had captured, neither one cared to talk. Even when threatened with the hanging they would almost certainly receive when turned over to the authorities in Thurmaster. Their loyalty and reticence was unusual and both bore a faint fishy smell that was more in place of a seaside dock than out in the middle of the woods.
For his part, Captain Peresten was well pleased of the protection he had bought. It would have been very grim if these strangers hadn’t been around to help. He probably wouldn’t have felt that way if he had known that the attack was entirely because of those strangers. Just as well, really.
The next morning it only took a few hours to get going again and make it to the banks of the river next to Thurmaster. While Kellron and Panther helped unload the barge, Ashimar escorted Jallarzi and Kestral to go see Tauster again. It had been a unanimous, if unvoiced, decision to make sure that Jallarzi was never left alone again.
Tauster was pleased to see the white-haired sorceress again and was pleased with her progress when he quizzed her about various sections on the book. When told of their recent adventures at the Library in Blasingdale however he grew quiet, and to Kestral he seemed fearful even.
Still, the old mage brushed it off quickly enough and was quite interested in the ring they had bargained from the goblins. It was likely he could have kept them there all day talking about it, but the three had to move on to catch up with the wagon train. Tauster bid them farewell and promised to have some more information the next afternoon.
Here's a thought
I was thinking while I was preparing the next post. I try not to do that very often, but there you go.
One of the things I wanted to do with this story hour was to provide information to other DM's who might be running the Night Below adventure.
However my posting has slowed down to about once a week and I'm getting maybe one-half to a full session between each post depending on what happened. As I free up more time I hope to increase the speed of my posting and the length of the posts; but until then...
So, are there any DM's running a Night Below game reading this story hour? If so, would any of you find it useful to have access to my campaign notes? After a year of play the group is almost through the end of the second book and I have hopes that they'll finish it by the end of June if all goes well. I know I would have found something like this useful about eight months ago.
I was thinking while I was preparing the next post. I try not to do that very often, but there you go.
One of the things I wanted to do with this story hour was to provide information to other DM's who might be running the Night Below adventure.
However my posting has slowed down to about once a week and I'm getting maybe one-half to a full session between each post depending on what happened. As I free up more time I hope to increase the speed of my posting and the length of the posts; but until then...
So, are there any DM's running a Night Below game reading this story hour? If so, would any of you find it useful to have access to my campaign notes? After a year of play the group is almost through the end of the second book and I have hopes that they'll finish it by the end of June if all goes well. I know I would have found something like this useful about eight months ago.
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