Krafus said:
Wonderful as usual. Nice to see the heroes in one of the downsides of adventuring (upgrading equipment). I wonder how Zenna is faring?
Well, other than being held in a cage as part of a hellish ritual with her tongue ripped out, I'd say she's doing okay...
RE equipment; I've kept the pace of the campaign running real fast from mod to mod, making it tough for the heroes to upgrade their gear. This isn't the campaign authors' fault; the mods in fact do suggest giving the players some time to manufacture magical items and/or take side trips to the big city to upgrade. I think they're well behind what players of their level should have at this point, although I haven't done a tally recently. They do have some big bang-for-your-buck items (like the holy swords) but haven't really had a chance to upgrade that most real players would get.
Anyway, I'm off work today, and I'm two posts from a good cliffhanger, so I'll post one now and the other later today.
* * * * *
Chapter 324
The Grand Library at the Cusp of Sunrise was a popular outpost among the wealthy scions of Cauldron’s leading families. Now the long windows in the dome above let in only a muted light from the overcast skies, while a slight patter of drizzle against the leaded panes served as a reminder of the dreary day outside. Normally the ill cheer of a rainy day did not penetrate to the floor of the great chamber, with its roaring fireplaces, soft leather chairs, open bar, and various nobles at play at cards or rounds of gemsnatcher. But today, the feeling in the Library was tense. The soft chairs and game tables had been removed, and the bar was closed. The broad chamber was full of people, some of Cauldron’s leading lights, clad in garments of expensive cloth cut with a nod to the latest fashions.
Cauldron’s leading churches—with the notable exception of the fallen church of Kelemvor—were represented. Jenya Urikas was there, clad in a soft white robe that framed her warm face and the dark curls that cascaded down to her shoulders. She looked tense but calm, a noticeable contrast to Kristof Jurgenson of the small church of the Morninglord. The cleric of Lathander was clearly ill at ease in this gathering, and he stood off to the side, fidgeting with his cloak. More stoic was Omar Tiskinson, the Second of the Church of Tempus. The martial priest’s hard expression seemed etched in stone, and whenever he moved the heavy greatsword slung across his back clattered slightly against the breastplate that he wore under the surcoat bearing the fiery sigil of the God of War.
Several of the city’s leading merchants and other important factors were also present. Unlike the priests, they seemed inclined to group together, as if drawn by the common bounds of profession that set them apart from the other groups present. All had interacted before with the companions before, each playing a minor role in the developing saga of Cauldron’s fate. The halfling Tygos Mispas and the gnomes Keygan Ghelve and Skie Aldersun formed a small circle, chatting amiably. The shorter folk were overshadowed by two men who appeared to be prosperous merchants. They were far more than that, however; the half-elf Meerthan Eliothlorn was the leader of the influential Striders of Shaundakul, while Maavu Arlintal was a prominent figure in the Chisel, a semi-secret group that operated out of the nearby community of Redgorge. Both men were also skilled wizards, and both surveyed the gathering with intent looks that saw much that wasn’t immediately evident.
In addition to the clerics and the merchants, two other groups were represented at the meeting. The small cluster of nobles included several whose names were already well-known to the adventurers, who’d had dealings with their children before. Ankhin Taskerhill was particularly dominating, a somber, ebon-skinned gentleman with a prominent jaw and hard eyes that could flay a competitor with the intensity of his gaze. By contrast, Premiach and Aeberrin Vanderboren seemed less at ease in these surroundings, almost huddling together near one of the bookcases instead of offering idle chatter with any of the other guests. The two had made a fortune in real estate speculation, but there was a trace of the rogue still about them despite their finery, especially the wiry Premiach. Ophellha Knowlern was one of only two elves present. She looked cold and distant in a soft blue robe that framed her pale features and delicate, graceful figure. She was also the owner of The Drunken Morkoth, one of Cauldron’s most prosperous inns.
The final group consisted of the adventurers, the band known throughout the city now as “The Heroes of Cauldron.” But at the moment, none of them looked particularly pleased to be present at this gathering.
“This is a waste of time,” Dannel said, fidgeting. He wore a new doublet that flattered his lean figure, but which still bulged slightly where his shirt of mithral links settled beneath the rich fabric. He bore no obvious weapons, but his magical quiver—with
Alakast and his new bow inside—was slung across his right shoulder.
“Politics is just another battlefield,” Beorna said. She and the other dwarves wore their armor and carried their weapons, and their sheer physical presence dominated the gathering. Her adamantine armor had been polished to a reflective sheen, and the sigil of Helm across her breastplate glimmered with the reflected light of the many lamps that were mounted around the circumference of the room.
“Jenya will need our support,” Arun said. “We are popular amongst the general population of the city, but these nobles will not be so quick to lend their allegiance, regardless of what fawning words they may speak.”
Hodge only frowned; he looked very much like he wanted to spit, but Beorna had taken him in hand before the meeting and spoken to him for a full five minutes. Since then, the dwarf had been utterly silent. He even looked halfway presentable, although there were tangles in his beard that even an adamantine comb might have had difficulty penetrating.
“When are they going to start?” Mole asked.
“They are waiting... ah, I believe that’s him now,” Beorna said, drawing their attention to the entry where a tall gentleman entered. Clad in meticulous white trousers and coat with red trim, Zachary Aslaxin’s face was dominated by a copious moustache and penetrating blue eyes that swept the room as he nodded to the gathering.
“With all your wealth, you could not afford a timepiece?” Taskerhill said. “The hour of this meeting was plainly set, Aslaxin.”
The other nobleman turned toward his rival, and for a moment the air between them was electric as their stares matched. Finally, the newcomer pulled off his gloves and swished them through the air dismissively before tucking them in his belt. “I offer apologies to all present for any inconvenience caused by my delay. Please understand that I fully appreciate the seriousness of the situation faced by our fair city.” Turning to Jenya, he added, “Lady Urikas, I believe you are playing hostess to this gathering?”
Jenya nodded, and came forward to stand in the middle of the room. “Ladies and gentlemen of Cauldron. Thank you all for coming today. Lord Aslaxin speaks truly to the gravity of our circumstance. I tell you this; I will speak with candor to you today, and I will not equivocate: Cauldron is on the brink of utter disaster.”
“Isn’t that just a bit overly-theatric, priestess?” Taskerhill interjected.
“I think, my lord, that we would do well to hear what the High Priestess has to tell us,” the elf woman Knowlern replied.
Jenya nodded. “Thank you, Ophellha. No doubt you have all heard of the recent events at the Temple of Kelemvor, and of the demise of the false Orbius Vhalantru.”
“Yes, a fearsome creature indeed,” Aslaxin said, with a nod to the adventurers.
“These events are linked to an even greater threat,” Jenya went on. “The efforts of these brave souls,” she said, also indicating the companions, “fighting on our behalf, has uncovered a dire plot that seeks to accomplish nothing short of the destruction of our city, of opening a permanent gateway between Cauldron and the fiendish plane of Carceri.”