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Shackled City Epic: "Vengeance" (story concluded)
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<blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 2631340" data-attributes="member: 143"><p>As I recall, due to Jenya being <em>disintegrated</em> within a burning building, they couldn't find enough of her ashes afterward for a <em>resurrection</em>. <em>True resurrection</em> is always an option (but phenomenally rare, even in Faerun), but for story purposes, consider that Jenya's content at the right hand of Helm and probably won't be coming back. </p><p></p><p>* * * * * </p><p></p><p>Chapter 464</p><p></p><p>“I’d forgotten how cold it gets here,” Cal said, shivering as a frigid gust tore at his cloak, causing it to flutter out behind him. </p><p></p><p>“It is winter,” Lok said simply, already walking across the barren field, snow crunching beneath his heavy boots.</p><p></p><p>Cal looked around as he followed the warrior. Mole was nowhere to be seen, but that was no surprise; she would be somewhere nearby. His gaze rose to the tower that was Lok’s destination. Eyes watched from there, he knew; the dwarves of the North had learned vigilance, and had they been foes they already would have heavy crossbow bolts sticking from them, no doubt. </p><p></p><p>A lot had changed since their first visit to this rocky shelf, situated on the shoulder of the mountain that the dwarves knew as the Maker’s Anvil. Only a few days’ travel from the shield dwarf stronghold at Caer Dulthain, this was the site where Lok had been found by one of those surface warriors, nearly forty years ago, now. It had been a battlefield, then, strewn with the corpses of orcs and dwarves. Now it was an outpost that served a dual role. It warded the northern edge of the shield dwarves’ land from the fierce orc and ogre tribes that dwelled beyond the Anvil. But it also served as a gateway between two very different worlds; the surface realm of the shield dwarves and the community of the urdunnir, far below them in the depths of the Underdark. On their first visit, they’d entered the Underdark via a deep shaft concealed within a narrow cleft in the mountain located here. Now, the tower here warded the shaft, which had been equipped with a winch assembly and a miner’s cage to facilitate traffic between the two dwarven realms. It would have been easier to teleport directly into the tower, or better yet, into the urdunnir halls, but the former locale was warded against such magic, and the latter was inadvisable, as the strange energies of the Underdark interfered with the efficacy of teleportation and made magical means of transportation there very dangerous. </p><p></p><p>The heavy stone door, set deep into a lintel with murder holes all around, drew open as Lok approached it. Cal saw a cowled figure that he suspected was Gaera Silverheart, the priestess of Berronar Truesilver whom they had met on their first visit to this region, when they had come to free Caer Dulthain of the grasp of a powerful ghour demon. It was not a pleasant thought, for that encounter had marked the beginning of Delem’s ordeal, and had catapulted them into a trial that would end in their first confrontation with the Demon Prince Graz’zt. </p><p></p><p>“Are you just going to stand there and freeze?” Mole’s voice came from ahead. </p><p></p><p>Cal shook of his musings and followed his friends into the citadel. He felt like he was walking into a cave as the huge stone blocks of the entry surrounded him; the walls were easily eight feet thick, testimony to the permanence of dwarvish architecture. A shield dwarf in steel plate and with a huge brown beard stood watch at the interior of the door, a double-edged battleaxe ready against his shoulder. The interior of the tower appeared to be comprised of a single chamber almost twenty feet across. A balcony ringed the tower about fifteen feet up, where light filtered in through narrow slits that pierced the thick walls. Cal could see that the arrow slits were protected by iron shutters that could be used to seal them from within; from what he knew of the dwarves that practicality was rooted more in concerns of defense than from protection from the weather. Or at least the tower seemed as cold as it was outside; the break from the frigid wind offset by the cooling effect of the massive stone cylinder. There was a curving staircase that led up to the balcony and the higher levels of the tower, and another that descended to the entrance to the shaft leading to the urdunnir settlement far below. </p><p></p><p>“Welcome, archmage,” Gaera said with a nod of respect, drawing him into the conversation that the priestess had been having with Lok. Cal had not heard that initial exchange, consumed more in his own musings, but he quickly got the gist of the matter. </p><p></p><p>“What is the nature of the threat?” Lok asked. </p><p></p><p>“I am not entirely certain,” the priestess admitted. “The urdunnir elders became quite agitated about two days ago, culminating in their request that I contact you at once, earlier today. They say that a powerful <em>urdun’a</em>—a spirit of the world—has awakened and threatens the People.”</p><p></p><p>“A ‘spirit of the world’… what is that, some kind of elemental?” Mole asked.</p><p></p><p>“I do not know,” the priestess explained. “Berronar was unable to provide more clarity, and my own detection spells revealed nothing out of the ordinary. I asked them if they wanted me to ask Koruth to send warriors to help their defenses, but they only insisted on your presence. I got the impression that whatever it is that threatens, it’s not something that can be fought with axe and hammer.”</p><p></p><p>”Well, an axe they may have to settle for,” Lok said. “Come, let us go, then.” He started toward the downward stair, but hesitated, turning back to Cal. </p><p></p><p>“I am sorry, my friend, but you know my errand in Waterdeep demands that I return at once,” Cal said. “The Blackstaff’s schedule is such that I may not get another opportunity for several tendays.”</p><p></p><p>Lok nodded. “I understand. When the time comes for us to act, I will be at your call.”</p><p></p><p>“Don’t worry, Uncle Cal,” Mole said, materializing suddenly and causing Gaera to start slightly in surprise. “I’ll keep an eye on things here. With a Calloran on the job, there’s nothing to worry about.”</p><p></p><p>Lok and Cal shared a look. “Good luck,” the gnome said to his friend. </p><p></p><p>“And you.” Without further ceremony, the genasi turned and descended the staircase, his heavy boots scraping the stone, his armor and weapons clattering slightly against his body with each step. Gaera and Mole followed quickly behind. </p><p></p><p>Cal waited until they were gone, and then turned to depart. With a nod to the guard, he strode out into the snow. Even as the heavy portal closed behind him, he summoned his magic, and was gone.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lazybones, post: 2631340, member: 143"] As I recall, due to Jenya being [i]disintegrated[/i] within a burning building, they couldn't find enough of her ashes afterward for a [i]resurrection[/i]. [i]True resurrection[/i] is always an option (but phenomenally rare, even in Faerun), but for story purposes, consider that Jenya's content at the right hand of Helm and probably won't be coming back. * * * * * Chapter 464 “I’d forgotten how cold it gets here,” Cal said, shivering as a frigid gust tore at his cloak, causing it to flutter out behind him. “It is winter,” Lok said simply, already walking across the barren field, snow crunching beneath his heavy boots. Cal looked around as he followed the warrior. Mole was nowhere to be seen, but that was no surprise; she would be somewhere nearby. His gaze rose to the tower that was Lok’s destination. Eyes watched from there, he knew; the dwarves of the North had learned vigilance, and had they been foes they already would have heavy crossbow bolts sticking from them, no doubt. A lot had changed since their first visit to this rocky shelf, situated on the shoulder of the mountain that the dwarves knew as the Maker’s Anvil. Only a few days’ travel from the shield dwarf stronghold at Caer Dulthain, this was the site where Lok had been found by one of those surface warriors, nearly forty years ago, now. It had been a battlefield, then, strewn with the corpses of orcs and dwarves. Now it was an outpost that served a dual role. It warded the northern edge of the shield dwarves’ land from the fierce orc and ogre tribes that dwelled beyond the Anvil. But it also served as a gateway between two very different worlds; the surface realm of the shield dwarves and the community of the urdunnir, far below them in the depths of the Underdark. On their first visit, they’d entered the Underdark via a deep shaft concealed within a narrow cleft in the mountain located here. Now, the tower here warded the shaft, which had been equipped with a winch assembly and a miner’s cage to facilitate traffic between the two dwarven realms. It would have been easier to teleport directly into the tower, or better yet, into the urdunnir halls, but the former locale was warded against such magic, and the latter was inadvisable, as the strange energies of the Underdark interfered with the efficacy of teleportation and made magical means of transportation there very dangerous. The heavy stone door, set deep into a lintel with murder holes all around, drew open as Lok approached it. Cal saw a cowled figure that he suspected was Gaera Silverheart, the priestess of Berronar Truesilver whom they had met on their first visit to this region, when they had come to free Caer Dulthain of the grasp of a powerful ghour demon. It was not a pleasant thought, for that encounter had marked the beginning of Delem’s ordeal, and had catapulted them into a trial that would end in their first confrontation with the Demon Prince Graz’zt. “Are you just going to stand there and freeze?” Mole’s voice came from ahead. Cal shook of his musings and followed his friends into the citadel. He felt like he was walking into a cave as the huge stone blocks of the entry surrounded him; the walls were easily eight feet thick, testimony to the permanence of dwarvish architecture. A shield dwarf in steel plate and with a huge brown beard stood watch at the interior of the door, a double-edged battleaxe ready against his shoulder. The interior of the tower appeared to be comprised of a single chamber almost twenty feet across. A balcony ringed the tower about fifteen feet up, where light filtered in through narrow slits that pierced the thick walls. Cal could see that the arrow slits were protected by iron shutters that could be used to seal them from within; from what he knew of the dwarves that practicality was rooted more in concerns of defense than from protection from the weather. Or at least the tower seemed as cold as it was outside; the break from the frigid wind offset by the cooling effect of the massive stone cylinder. There was a curving staircase that led up to the balcony and the higher levels of the tower, and another that descended to the entrance to the shaft leading to the urdunnir settlement far below. “Welcome, archmage,” Gaera said with a nod of respect, drawing him into the conversation that the priestess had been having with Lok. Cal had not heard that initial exchange, consumed more in his own musings, but he quickly got the gist of the matter. “What is the nature of the threat?” Lok asked. “I am not entirely certain,” the priestess admitted. “The urdunnir elders became quite agitated about two days ago, culminating in their request that I contact you at once, earlier today. They say that a powerful [i]urdun’a[/i]—a spirit of the world—has awakened and threatens the People.” “A ‘spirit of the world’… what is that, some kind of elemental?” Mole asked. “I do not know,” the priestess explained. “Berronar was unable to provide more clarity, and my own detection spells revealed nothing out of the ordinary. I asked them if they wanted me to ask Koruth to send warriors to help their defenses, but they only insisted on your presence. I got the impression that whatever it is that threatens, it’s not something that can be fought with axe and hammer.” ”Well, an axe they may have to settle for,” Lok said. “Come, let us go, then.” He started toward the downward stair, but hesitated, turning back to Cal. “I am sorry, my friend, but you know my errand in Waterdeep demands that I return at once,” Cal said. “The Blackstaff’s schedule is such that I may not get another opportunity for several tendays.” Lok nodded. “I understand. When the time comes for us to act, I will be at your call.” “Don’t worry, Uncle Cal,” Mole said, materializing suddenly and causing Gaera to start slightly in surprise. “I’ll keep an eye on things here. With a Calloran on the job, there’s nothing to worry about.” Lok and Cal shared a look. “Good luck,” the gnome said to his friend. “And you.” Without further ceremony, the genasi turned and descended the staircase, his heavy boots scraping the stone, his armor and weapons clattering slightly against his body with each step. Gaera and Mole followed quickly behind. Cal waited until they were gone, and then turned to depart. With a nod to the guard, he strode out into the snow. Even as the heavy portal closed behind him, he summoned his magic, and was gone. [/QUOTE]
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