Shilsen's Eberron SH (Finished - The Last Word : 9/20/15)

[shilsen]

Six proceeds into the tunnel, noting as he does that it is completely clear of bones, even though it is on the same level as the floor of the previous chamber. Luna follows behind him, barely squeezing her bulk through the tunnel.

Looking around the turn, Six looks into a chamber that is smaller than the previous one and seemingly empty. Though it is also lit by the sourceless green light, he notices a faint tinge of red to the right. After telling the others what he sees, Six carefully looks in, to see a column of red light against the right wall. As he watches, the column collapses in on itself and takes the form of a wraithlike hobgoblin in spiked armor.

Belying the martial and muscular form, the face is that of an elderly woman. As the figure steps forward, its face changes to that of a child, then an old man, then a youth, and continues to morph as it advances.

“Ethereal red hobgoblin coming your way!” calls Six urgently to the others, before quickly stepping into the room and to the side. Dropping his pole and readying his spiked chain, he says to the advancing figure, “Hello?”

The wraithlike hobgoblin ignores him and steps into the tunnel. Luna, with no real option for turning around, sniffs as it reaches her, but smells nothing. Without a pause, the hobgoblin steps into and walks through her, giving Korm, whose view of the tunnel is mostly blocked by her bulk, the amusing sight of half a spectral red hobgoblin sticking out above the bear’s back and advancing on him.

As it enters her, Luna is overwhelmed by a wave of absolute rage, so strong that she momentarily cannot see anything beyond the red haze of fury that clouds her vision. Her snout wrinkles as she snarls, causing Six to momentarily think that the hobgoblin is damaging her in some way. But as the wraithlike figure leaves her body, the emotion switches off as if it had never been. Korm, backing away into the bone-filled room, is barely touched as it brushes by and momentarily experiences the fury she did.

The hobgoblin ignores everyone and walks through the room, the bones not hindering its incorporeal stride. It steps into the wall beneath the entrance corridor. Even as a curious Luna backs out of the tunnel, the hobgoblin’s head appears through the floor of the corridor and rises in jerks, as if it was climbing a hidden staircase beneath the stone. It emerges completely as it reaches the doorway and then turns right.

Luna and Korm climb up and do likewise, to find it marching soundlessly down the corridor. They follow until it reaches the first turning, where it steps into the wall and does not reappear. Both check the wall and, finding no hidden doorways, return to tell the others what they saw.

Six, having searched the room the creature emerged from and found it completely empty, asks, “So what was that?”

“I don’t know,” says Korm, “But when it brushed by me I had this amazing rush of anger. I think I was feeling what it was.” Luna nods vigorously in agreement.

“It was some unusual form of undead, I presume,” says Trillia. “Probably formed as a byproduct of all these deaths.”

“Whatever it was,” says Nameless with a grin, “I’m guessing there are going to be some very surprised - and upset - aberrations when it reaches them. Pity we can‘t see that, but we should leave now.”

The others, however, want to check the end of the corridor they have been in before entering this chamber, and Nameless grudgingly agrees. Climbing out of the charnel chamber, the Angels proceed for a while before the tunnel ends at a closed door, through which they hear sounds of movement, along with some sloshing and squelching sounds, and high-pitched voices speaking in daelkyr.

Opening the door reveals that it opens onto ten-foot square platform halfway up the side of a large chamber, with stairs leading down to a floor where a few dolgrims are moving and working. A couple of them are moving large vats on wheels, which hold huge piles of bloodied flesh and fat resembling the provisions found in the previous dolgrims’ chamber. There are four doors leading out - two especially large ones, of which one is half-open, and two smaller closed ones. The loud gurgling sound emanates from beyond the half-open door, through which two more dolgrims emerge. They are carrying a huge ladle piled with more flesh and fat.

The dolgrims fail to notice the new arrivals some fifteen feet above them, their first sign of trouble being the sight of Luna leaping through the air at them. By the time Nameless has dropped a web in the area, and Six and Korm have leaped down the stairs with weapons swinging, only a single terrified dolgrim is alive.

After Nameless dismisses his spell and begins to question the dolgrim, Luna and Six walk across to look through the half-open door. Luna shoves open the door, releasing a horrible stench of mingled blood, waste and disease, especially the former.

The bulk of the square room beyond is taken up by what looks like a hobgoblin, except that it is ten feet tall and must weigh over two tons. The huge, corpulent creature is lying prone on its back on the floor of the chamber. The amount of meat and fat on it is incredible, hanging off in huge lumps. Its puffy eyes are almost hidden in the mounds of flesh around them. It is totally naked, except for a dark band around its neck, which has sunk deep into the fatty flesh. The pallid, blotchy skin is covered with sores. There are large wounds and gobbets of flesh missing from its body, blood leaking from them to the floor, which is covered with dried gore. Strangely, the wounds are gradually closing, flesh growing over them slowly.

The creature is attached to the wall by a pair of huge rusted chains, which end in large hooks that are buried in its flesh, which has grown around most of each hook. There are also two tubes that look like huge tentacles emanating from the walls, one extending into its rectum and the other around its penis. The only other thing in the room is a series of hooks on the wall, which hold cleavers and other implements, all caked with dried blood.

As Luna stares at the creature with a mix of horror and distaste, it turns its huge head slightly to look at her and makes a gurgling sound. The flesh around its arms and thighs ripples as it makes a futile attempt to move. With a disgusted snarl, Luna moves forward, thinking, I should just put it out of its misery.

Behind her, Six closes the door and says, “We really don’t need to see that.”

The questioning of the dolgrim proceeds - and ends - very quickly. It is far too scared and confused not to answer questions, but has little information. All it can say is that there are “lots, many lots” of creatures like it, that it (and the other dolgrims) was collecting food for the others, and that its leader is a mindflayer called Naxaliyen.

Luna, meanwhile, walks up to the hobgoblin’s head and lifts a clawed paw to smash its skull. As she is about to strike, the creature gives her a drooling smile and gurgles something happily in goblin (which she cannot understand). The action promptly triggers Luna’s mostly atrophied maternal instincts. Awww!!!

She decides to try to free it instead and walks over to one of the tubes. Grabbing the rectal in her teeth, she yanks powerfully*. It detaches with a popping sound and sends a stream of semi-liquid feces across the room. Luna restrains her gag reflex and does the same to the other tube, adding a significant quantity of urine to the mix.

This is the moment when Six reopens the door, having asked Trillia to translate the creature’s speech for them. Poor Trillia is standing right next to the door when he does and is simultaneously assaulted by the sight and the smell from the room. She staggers away, turning green and barely managing to keep from vomiting.

“By the moons!” says Korm, standing nearby, “What are you doing, Luna?”

Luna gestures for the others to join her, but nobody complies. Nameless, having ordered the dolgrim to sit in the corner and tie itself up (which it promptly, if vainly, attempts to do), shakes his head and says, “You’re insane! And believe me, I should know.”

After some persuasion, Trillia finally agrees to do so, but only after Gareth loans her his ring of adaptation and having cast a fly spell so that she can stay near the ceiling. The hobgoblin gurgles something as she nears its head. She turns and translates, “It said, ‘Cut me. Please cut me.’ Let me just say - whaa…?” She takes another look, this time peering into the creature’s beady eyes and says, “Speaking of insanity, I think this thing is too.” Looking around the chamber, she says, “I can see why.”

Luna transforms back into a shifter so that she can speak and proceeds to argue that they should free the creature and take it with them. While the others are arguing with her, Korm grows a pair of wings and flies into the room too. Casting a detect magic, he picks up auras of conjuration and transmutation magic from the band around the hobgoblin’s neck.

Flying down, Korm grimaces as he forces his fingers into the puffy flesh of its neck and around the band. As he pulls, it comes away easily in his hand. For a moment, he thinks that it is a large black band of some leathery material, until it suddenly turns around and attempts to wrap around his wrist. A startled Korm quickly grabs it in both hands, and it wriggles weakly in his grasp. “This thing’s alive!” He holds it in one hand and retrieves the petrified hobgoblin arm, and then places the band on it, which promptly wraps around the arm.

“It must be another of those symbiotic things,” says Luna, pointing at the wounds. “See, they’ve stopped healing. That’s what must have been healing them. Those bloody aberrations were cutting it, healing it, and cutting it again! Poor thing!”

“Stop saying ‘poor thing’!” snaps Nameless exasperatedly. “And we can’t take the damn thing with us. It can’t even walk!” He looks around and says, “All right - I’m going back to camp. Who’s with me?”

After a little more argument, Luna grudgingly agrees that the only option is to mercifully kill the creature. Korm draws his sword and steps up to the creature’s head. He hacks at its throat, but the layers of meat and fat absorb the impact of the blow, turning it into a shallow wound.

To Korm’s horror and those of the onlookers, the hobgoblin gurgles in glee as he strikes. It mumbles, “Aah, yes, cut me, cut me again, yesssss!” As it gasps and gurgles in evident pleasure, spasming and writhing in place as much as its bulk allows, Trillia says in a horrified whisper, “Is it just me, or did that thing just have an orgasm?”

Realizing there is no other real way to do it, Korm places the sword’s blade against the creature’s throat and saws into its throat. The hobgoblin continues to writhe and gurgle with glee as he cuts deeper and deeper. Finally, Korm hit’s the veins and arteries, sending blood jetting across the room. As the blood pools, the creature’s movements gradually slow and end as it bleeds to death.

Korm staggers from the room and the group barely pauses to dispatch the unfortunate dolgrim, which had actually managed to dislocate two of its arms in an attempt to tie itself up, before teleporting out of the chamber and back to the oasis they had camped at.

“I can’t believe what I just had to do,” says Korm, with a shudder.

“And I can’t believe I don’t have an acid orb spell prepared so that I can cast it on my eyeballs,” says Trillia.

“And I wish I knew a spell to wipe out the last five minutes of my memory,” says Nameless.

“Those bloody aberrations turned a hobgoblin into a permanent feast, turned it insane and made it a masochist!” snarls Luna, “I’m going to take that city down!”

“You’ll need an earthquake for that,” says Gareth. “You can’t do that yet, right?”

“Give me time,” says Luna grimly.


* First in-game moment where a player told me, "I unplug his butt"

 

[ajanders]

My work here is done.
Consider yourself repaid for the creation of Ardith's fiancee.

aja

 

[shilsen]

My work here is done.

Thanks, AJ. The concept worked out great in play, mainly because Luna's player decided to be kind to the hobgoblin. And I think the most disturbing aspect of it for the players was the masochism.

Consider yourself repaid for the creation of Ardith's fiancee.

aja

Who/what was Ardith's fiancee? It sounds familiar but I can't place it.

 

[ajanders]

Ardith's fiancee?
Wizard, tall fellow, sticks to ceilings, somewhere in Eberron? Turns into a cube of jelly 40 feet on a side when grappled?

And regarding the grappling: Ow.

 

[shilsen]

Ardith's fiancee?
Wizard, tall fellow, sticks to ceilings, somewhere in Eberron? Turns into a cube of jelly 40 feet on a side when grappled?

And regarding the grappling: Ow.

Aha! Actually I'd mentioned using a jelly/ooze to John, but having the wizard turn into one was all his doing.

The rakshasa and the goblin ninja, however? That you can thank/blame me for.

 

[ajanders]

The rakshasa was not too bad.
Sadly, I couldn't give the goblin ninja the attention he deserved.
Ever read Man After Man?

 

[shilsen]

The rakshasa was not too bad.

I think John may have been a little nicer with him than need be, and I believe he screwed up a little on the Walls of Force I suggested (they were supposed to be ceiling to floor, not have gaps above them), but it made a nice enemy. Rakshasa sorcerers are fun. Maybe I'll find a way to use one on my PCs sometime.

Sadly, I couldn't give the goblin ninja the attention he deserved.
Ever read Man After Man?

No, but the name sounds familiar. What's it about?

 

[shilsen]

Enter the Snookums

Once they begin to pay attention to the camp, the Angels notice that someone or something has been in it, though there are absolutely no tracks entering or leaving. It takes longer to realize that the dead runehounds are just beginning to smell, probably because everyone’s olfactory faculties have been blasted by the recent experience. Six suggests that they move to another of the omnipresent oases and they do so, moving to one half a mile to the northeast.

A few hours later, after they have cleaned off as much as possible and are resting and discussing the day’s experiences, they are interrupted by the raven skull rod. Its eyes glow with a blue light and it screeches harshly for a few seconds. Then the beak moves and it begins to speak in a harsh whisper. The words are in goblin. “If you vermin hear this, know that I shall find and make fodder of you. Speak ‘nightfall’ and reply, if you dare.”

Trillia, who had the rod lying by her bedroll, looks around and asks, “Should we reply?”

After a quick discussion, the group decides to reply and assume that the speaker is the Naxaliyen they were told of, hoping that will surprise him. Trillia begins, “Nightfall,” as instructed, to access the linked rod, and then says, “Naxaliyen, can we set up a meeting and discuss points of interest to both of us?”

There is no response for a couple of minutes and then the rod speaks again. “How do you know me? What do you want? You are not Dhakaani, correct?” Though the voice is fixed for the rod and effectively expressionless, the Angels get a sense of uncertainty.

After some more discussion, now beginning to turn to laughter and giggling as they try to increase the confusion, the group replies, “We have tentacles. Information. Not all of us. Give us magic and books where we want and we will leave.”

The pause this time is longer, and then the rod replies, “What in Xoriat are you? You are here to steal the treasures of Yarkuun Draal? The heart of the city is hidden from such as you.”

“Unless this Naxaliyen has another linked rod, that’s the last message he can send,” says Trillia. “Each one is only usable thrice a day.”

“So we get the last word?” asks Korm, beginning to grin broadly.

“Yes,” says Nameless, matching his smirk.

“Excellent,” says Six, pulling out a writing tablet. “Let’s make this a group effort.” He writes a word and hands it to the next person, who does the same, and passes it on. Soon, the final, awful message is complete. “We, the people, have a survey, in order to form a perfect union. So bend over, and kiss your own ass. Amen.”

Trillia looks at the tablet and laughs. “So this is what you want me to send?”

“Why not?” says Gareth. “At least now they’ll really have a reason to kill us.”

“Wait!” says Korm. “You said we can send 25 words at a time, right?”

“Yes. Why?”

“There’s space for two more. Give me the tablet.” He scribbles two words and hands it back. Trillia reads it and gives an explosive burst of laughter. This time it takes much longer to compose herself. “Love, Snookums? SNOOKUMS?”

“What?” chorus the others. After Trillia repeats herself, the entire group collapses in laughter. Finally, she manages to stop laughing long enough to send the message.

“You know,” she says afterwards, wiping away tears, “It’s been a while since I went adventuring, but I’m pretty sure it was never like this. Or like anything we did today. Did they change the rules, or are you bunch just insane?”

“No,” says Nameless, “It’s just us. We are insane.”

The group waits for a while to see if there’s any response, but there isn’t, so they proceed with preparations to turn in for the night.

Luna, who is very intrigued by the symbiotes asks if she can try one out. Trillia, who has taken the band Korm found and placed it in a box, says, “You really should let me identify them first.”

As Luna grudgingly agrees, Korm says, “Are you sure you want to risk using them? They are creations of the daelkyr.”

“Better to use them against the aberrations then, I think. If they help us defeat them, what‘s the harm?”

“That’s how it begins,” says Korm darkly. “But that is not how it may end.”

Then he grins and says, “That band probably makes you fat. You saw what it did to the hobgoblin meat factory we found.”

“I’ll risk it,” says Luna. “All the hair hides the fat, anyway.”

“Yes,” comments Gareth with a grin. “And that’s even more true when you wildshape.”

“Bite me,” replies Luna. “Or rather, let me bite you.”

***
Later that night, during the second watch, Six notices something large flit across the face of the moon Olarune. The creature, whatever it is, has a roughly humanoid shape and large batlike wings.

As Six quietly points it out to Nameless and Trillia, both on watch with him, the creature flies lower and in a wide circle. It seems to catch sight of the translucent hemisphere that makes up the group’s shelter and flies cautiously closer, finally coming to a landing on the ground about fifty feet away.

As it takes a step forward, Nameless drops a solid fog around it, while Six and Trillia wake the others.

There is a startled cry from the creature, and then it speaks in a guttural tone, muffled slightly by the fog. “I am a messenger from Naxaliyen. Are you those who spoke to him?”

“Yes,” replies Nameless.

“May I enter and speak to you?”

“Sure.”

The creature emerges slowly from the fog and makes its way to the edge of the tiny hut and after a moment of obvious hesitation steps through.

In the increased light within, it looks like a combination of a gargoyle and a goblin. Its forehead has three holes in it, a drop of green slime leaking from one, while a six-inch long pink tentacle emerges from another, moves back and forth as if testing the air, and then retracts.

“What the hell is that?” asks Luna.

“It’s had its brain partly drained by a mind flayer,” says Trillia, “Allowing it to be controlled from a distance.”

“Pretty,” says Korm, the distaste evident on his face.

“Well?” asks Nameless.

The creature stares silently at him for a moment and then closes its eyes. Unsure what it’s doing, Six flicks out his chain in readiness for battle. “What’s it doing?”

As he speaks, the messenger opens its eyes, which are now completely yellow and glowing softly. It speaks, in a voice that is now much smoother and lacking the guttural nature of its original speech, though accompanied by a soft gurgling sound that is oddly disquieting. “I am Naxaliyen.”

“Huh?!”

Unsurprised, Nameless explains to his companions, “The mindflayer can take control of the creature from a distance.” Turning to the creature, he says, “So - what do you want?”

The creature stands stock-still, with no physical movement other than its head and eyes, as if it were dead beneath the neck. Turning to look at Nameless, Naxaliyen replies, “Our earlier discussion was … unsatisfying. I wish to continue the conversation.”

“So how did you find us?”

“It was not ea…,” begins Naxaliyen, before quickly changing tack, “…as difficult as you may have thought.” The pause, and what he was in the process of saying, is duly noted by the Angels.

“So,” he continues, “What do you want in Yarkuun Draal?”

“As we said,” explains Nameless, “We are primarily interested in information and knowledge about the city. And exploring it. Call us tourists.”

Naxaliyen emits a gurgling laugh and says, “Tourists? I think not.” The laughter stops suddenly. “What of my people? Why did you slay them?”

“It was simple self defense,” says Six. “They attacked us and we defended ourselves.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“I am a paladin of the Silver Flame,” says Gareth, as if that were explanation enough.

Naxaliyen gazes at him for a moment and then says, “The Flame. Yes. I have heard of your little faith.” Turning away dismissively, he continues, “But you entered their lair.”

“So?” asks Six, “Maybe we just wanted to ask for directions.”

“You are humorous,” says Naxaliyen dryly. “Anyway, let that be. What do you want?”

There is a chorus of answers. “Information.” “Books.” “Artifacts.” “Magic.”

“Why should I give you this?” asks Naxaliyen. “Why should we not simply destroy you if you come to the city again?”

“Because you’d (a) have to catch us, (b) have to defeat us, (c) would lose many of your ‘people’, and most importantly, (d) would not get the information we can give you in exchange.”

“What information?”

Nameless says, “About the name we told you in our last message.”

There is a pause and then Naxaliyen asks, “Snookums? What is Snookums?”

“You must not speak that name,” says Nameless, with a deadpan expression. Luna and Trillia both begin to laugh but then barely stop themselves.

“Huh? Why not?”

“Because Snoo…,” begins Six, but Nameless slaps a hand over his mouth and says, “Silence. We do not speak the name.” Luna turns a slight shade of blue trying to keep from laughing and has to turn her back and wander away for a moment.

Naxaliyen is clearly a little confused, but continues, “So you have no interest in the heart of the city?”

The adventurers exchange glances. “No. What is it?”

“That is not necessary. All you need to know is that if you lie to me about this, I shall find you and destroy you.”

The discussion continues for a few minutes, with Naxaliyen finally agreeing to send the group a certain amount of information and artifacts from the city, in exchange for a combination of information about “Snookums” and the promise that the group will leave the area. He mentions the ‘heart of the city’ again, seemingly trying to get the adventurers to admit to some knowledge of it, even as he reiterates that it is protected from them.

After the agreement is reached, Naxaliyen turns and looks at Korm. He looks the big orc up and down for a long moment and then says, “Are you a druid?”

Korm holds his gaze silently for a second longer than he had, and replies simply, “Yes.”

“Gatekeeper?”

“Yes.”

“And you are not here for the heart of the city? You will leave too?”

“No. I am simply here to protect my companions. And I shall leave with them.” And I shall return with them when we choose to.

After another pause, Naxaliyen turns away. Looking around at everyone, he says, “I shall send you what I have promised. If you lie, or if your information is not valuable, you shall pay.”

With that, the yellow light fades out of the creature’s eyes and it shakes its head. Without a word, it turns away and walks out of the hut, to take to the air. It depicts a wide circle in the air and disappears into the darkness, heading north.

“Well, that was interesting,” says Korm. “I wonder what this ‘heart of the city’ is about.”

“Maybe it’s that dimensional seal you think is here, Trillia,” says Six.

“I doubt it. If there is one, which I’m quite sure of now, the aberrations would want it destroyed, not protect it from us.”

“Maybe some aberrations don’t want them destroyed,” surmises Six. “If they’re destroyed then they return to Xoriat, right?”

“No, no,” says Trillia animatedly, settling down to explain. “If Xoriat becomes coterminous with Eberron again, then the aberrations will transform Eberron to match their world. So it’s something that is a very positive outcome for them. Some scholars theorize that the daelkyr are actually less concerned about destroying the dimensional seals than most other aberrations, since they are immortal. Others, like mindflayers, for example, are not.”

“Interesting,” says Six. “Aberrations are … complicated.”

“That’s okay,” says Korm, tapping his sword. “This uncomplicates them very well.”

 

[shilsen]

Handled over email between sessions:

After discussing the ‘meeting’ with Naxaliyen a little longer, the alienists and druids turn in, with Gareth joining Six on watch.

About an hour before dawn, Six sees movement in the moonlight. There are about a dozen human-shaped figures heading towards the camp, currently a little over a hundred feet away.

Six quickly tells Gareth that they have intruders and then calls more loudly to awake the others. While they are arising, he grabs a continual flame torch and hurls it in the direction of the figures, who had slowed slightly as he gave the alarm. The torch hits the ground some fifty feet from the edge of the magical enclosure the group is in, about thirty feet ahead of the figures. The torch is too far away to illuminate them clearly, but they seem to be armed and armored hobgoblins and perhaps a couple of bugbears. Some have bows in hand and raise them when the torch hits, but another waves them down.

Luna, whose low-light vision helps her see more clearly in the torchlight and moonlight, can see that there are ten of them, two being bugbears. The one who waved the others down is female and looks a little older than the others.

Nameless calls loudly, “So you are here to help us against Naxaliyen?”

The female hobgoblin turns to exchange some quiet words with one of the others, who seems to be disagreeing with her. Then she steps forward, until she is well-illuminated by the torch, which shows that she is middle-aged or older, with gray-streaked hair that hangs down in two long braids over her fine chain shirt. Unlike the others, she has no evident weapons on her besides a dagger at her belt.

She says aloud, “I cannot see you. Would you emerge from your shelter and speak to us?” Then there’s a slight pause and she adds, “Who is Naxaliyen and why do you need help?”

Nameless emerges from the shelter. “Ah, forgive me. We have encountered a number of your people, or what remained of them after they had been warped by the aberrations who rule Yarkuun Draal. I assumed you were here seeking our aid against them.”

The female hobgoblin steps forward and says, “Yes, we know you have been in Yarkuun Draal. And no, we had not come to ask for your aid, though that might be something to discuss later. We come to ask what you - and your companions - do in our land and in our ... our former, if you will ... city.” Her voice and manner are reasonably friendly and her tone is frankly curious.

“We come seeking knowledge. There is much that was lost here and we wish to rediscover it. Also we have a survey for you to fill out.”

“Survey?” asks the female, clearly puzzled at that part of the response.

A big male behind her, the one who’d said something to her, steps forward with a scowl. “So you come to loot and steal from the city?”

Meanwhile, inside the spell hemisphere, Trillia says quietly to the rest, “Don't do anything impetuous. Especially you, Luna. We’re in no state to get into a fight now, with most of us out of spells.” She then steps out of the hemisphere to join Nameless.

Korm also steps out of the shelter, groggily rubbing sleep from his eyes, half-naked but still wearing his big sword on his back. “I greet you. I am Korm’akhan,” he says in Goblin. “We need no help with Naxaliyen,” he says, glaring at Nameless, “For we have agreed to parlay peacefully and we will keep that oath.” Turning to the big male, he says, “We do not steal, and I must thank you for that accusation. Do you have others you’d like to make?”

Nameless simply looks at Korm, taking mental notes of Korm’s apparent insanity in trusting a mindflayer and believing he has anything other than malicious intent.

Gareth walks out thinking, What oath have we taken? He says, “My name is Gareth Byron Deneith, paladin and Sacred Exorcist of the Silver Flame. We are here to deal with this scourge, what we call from my land as mindflayers. Would you tell us your story?”

At Korm’s words, the big hobgoblin steps forward, pulling out a heavy flail that he has had a hand on. As he does, the two bugbears heft the greatswords they carry, and a couple of the hobgoblins (there are six besides the two leaders) quickly nock arrows. The big male growls, “You are in my land, orc! Speak with res…,” but is cut off in mid-speech by the female, who barks, “Peace!” She quickly turns to him and speaks urgently and softly. It is very obvious that he is not happy with what she says but grudgingly agrees. He lowers the flail and the others follow suit.

She then turns back to the group and says, “Please, let us not be hasty. But I am forgetting my manners. I am Tuneer Dhakaan, dirge singer of Dhakaan. This,” she indicates the glowering but quiescent warrior, “Is Reskiit, one of the warchiefs of our tribe.” The Angels notice there is a little extra emphasis on the word ‘one,’ apparently more for Reskiit’s benefit than theirs.

After what Gareth says is translated for her by Trillia, she says, “You must understand our wariness. This is a dangerous land, with the darkness that haunts the city stretching out around it. We have fought it since before your people came to these shores, as he,” she indicates Korm, “Can tell you. And your speech confuses me. Some of you speak of fighting the aberrations. But you, Korm’akhan, say that you have given oaths to parlay with them. You slew the runehounds from the city, did you not? But you let the flying beast from it enter your camp and leave peacefully. Do you oppose the aberrations or not?”

Gareth wonders, Why, by the Silver Flame's grace, would he want to parlay with someone knowing he does nothing but offend them? While Tuneer is speaking with Korm and the others, Gareth detects evil and then detects thoughts on her. While doing so, he says, “We are against the aberrations, but sometimes we have the ability to choose when to fight. We had such an opportunity and that was not the time to fight. There is information they can provide us.”

Meanwhile, Korm smiles and laughs heartily (not in a mocking manner, but one of camaraderie). “I give you my respect, Reskiit. My people have opposed the aberrations since the times when your ancestors built empires of tall cities, and we will continue to do so until all the humans’ cities crumble like all those that came before them. Make no mistake. But the flying creature came to speak, and we will meet with their messengers. Later we may slaughter them like diseased cattle, but I will not attack messengers I have promised to meet in peace.” He turns to the shelter. “Will you come eat and drink with us? We may yet chop each other into little bloody pieces, but first we must talk and break bread.”

Listening to Korm try and lighten the situation, Gareth cringes as his laugh sounds like a mocking blow at the other warriors in the group. He also turns his head and raises a large eyebrow when Korm says, “We will continue to do so until all the humans’ cities crumble like all those that came before them.” Yes, he thinks, I will have to speak with Korm later to see what his motivations are.

Gareth continues to concentrate and discovers that one each of the bugbears and hobgoblins are faintly evil, but neither Tuneer nor Reskiit are. When he reads her thoughts, he picks up intermingled emotions of curiosity, concern and hope. Her surface thoughts are - “These newcomers may be more than they seem. If they entered Yarkuun Draal and returned, they must be powerful. Perhaps they can aid us, but what do they really want? I hope Reskiit does not mess this up. I will speak to them. What if I‘m making an error? I must be careful about risking my people.”

Reskiit glares at Korm for a long moment when he finishes, and then the scowl slowly fades away and he laughs. He slides his flail back onto his belt and says, “And I give you my respect, Korm’akhan. You have honor. Dhakaani and Marcher have fought before and perhaps you and I will fight later, but your people know the aberrations as do mine. I shall break bread with you and we shall speak.”

He looks at Tuneer and nods, before walking forward to clasp Korm’s shoulder in a traditional Dhakaani manner and head towards the shelter. The other goblinoids follow, though more warily and keeping a careful eye on the adventurers.

Tuneer, who looks openly relieved, reaches into a pouch and produces what looks like a pebble with a green continual flame on it. She turns to her right, raises it and moves it in a complicated manner. After a second, a similar light appears in the darkness approximately a hundred feet away, revealing the short figure of a goblin with a bow strapped to his back. As he covers his light, there’s a split second when you can still see his figure in the moonlight and then he disappears. “A scout,” says Tuneer in explanation, as she follows her companions.

When everyone is in the shelter, Reskiit and Tuneer take a seat, as do some of the others. Once they have done so, Tuneer says, “Now tell me, what exactly are you here for? I assume it is not only to gain things from the city, though I see you have found something there.” She points at the Raven Skull Rod, which lies next to Trillia’s bedroll.

Walking in the hemisphere Gareth speaks in an effort to belay her fears, using his best diplomatic behavior. “Please tell us what it is you would like. Not only from us, but of the situation you must deal with. We are not here to attempt to harm you or your people. In fact, we had no idea you or your people are here, but maybe we can help each other out.”

Trying to relate a little about the group’s prowess, to let them know they are capable of helping, he adds, “We have taken down many powerful creatures in our time. This is not to say we cannot lose a fight, but we are confident we can help bring down these mindflayers, or at the very least hurt them significantly enough to make any innocent person’s life that much easier.”

Trillia, who hasn’t said much other than doing most of the translating, conveys Gareth’s message and then adds, “I hadn’t expected to meet you, but I knew there have been minor encounters with your people in these highlands and theorized that a Dhakaani clan existed here. I didn’t know whether you were descendants of the city’s original inhabitants or came here from elsewhere. I should also say that I’m the main reason that we’re here.”

She hesitates for a moment, and then continues, “I am what my people call an alienist” (she uses the word in Common, since there’s no goblin equivalent) “someone who studies the lore of the daelkyr and their minions. Please understand that I do not have any affinity to them or support them in any way, but simply find their knowledge of other realities and manipulation thereof interesting. I wished to see what lore we could find in the city and my companions are here to help and protect me, since I expected to have to battle the aberrations, as we have. Since these activities are costly, I hoped that we would also recover some valuable artifacts and magic items. We are not simple looters, though I can see that the distinction is a little difficult.”

Some of the goblinoids look a little uncertain at Trillia’s words and give Reskiit (who’s taken Korm at his word and produced some food) a look. He frowns slightly but doesn’t say anything. Tuneer listens silently, with no trace of emotion other than attentiveness, and then says, “I understand. You are not the first to come to Yarkuun Draal and will not be the last. And I know the lore of the daelkyr interests some. It is a dark path, but each of us sings the song that we may.”

“My people are both of the possibilities you mentioned. Many are descendants of those who once lived in the city, and others came from the land that is now Darguun. We have fought the daelkyr’s minions for centuries and will do so until they are driven from our home and it is restored to its old glory. Though you clearly have power, I doubt that it is enough to break the aberrations’ hold on the city. There are thousands of them there, many of immense power. There are the mindflayers you mention, but there are also the eye tyrants, cloakers, aboleths, and many creatures they have created in the depths of Khyber. Still, whatever damage you do to them benefits us.”

She stops to exchange a long look with Reskiit, who nods at her, and then says, looking at Trillia, “Whatever you call it, to us you are people who are taking things from our home. Though they may have been taken from us ages ago, they were made by our ancestors. We would normally slay you or drive you away for this, but since you fight the aberrations we will not harm you. You may keep what you recover, but I would like to know what it is, in case you find anything that is very important to my people. I am reluctant to risk the lives of my people to aid you, but perhaps we can help with information and otherwise. What say you?”

Six speaks up, his questions being delivered curtly, with the intention of keeping the conversation focused. “Do you have legends or lore of particular items of people of your past that might still be there? Do you have a short history of your people and what happened with the aberrations? Do you lose many people to the aberrations? Have you heard of the Heart?”

Tuneer looks at him with interest and says, “We have seen few of your kind here, master warforged” (it is the first word in Common that she has used). “To answer your questions in detail would take weeks. Yes, we have legends and lore of items that were lost, like the Implacable Blade of Aal’drash with which the general slew four mindflayers single-handed, or the Banner of the Storm’s Eye, beneath which he fell. As for our people who may still be there…,” she pauses and makes a quick gesture with her right hand, touching her chest and making a short sweeping gesture (which all the other goblinoids replicate), before continuing grimly, “…we do not speak of them. When a Dhakaani is captured by the aberrations, we perform the rites and consider him dead. It is better that way.” She adds, more softly, “However close they may have been to us.”

Then she smiles a little, though it is clearly strained, and continues, “What happened to my people with the aberrations is a long tale, since it began millennia ago, and now it is legend. Still, my sisters and I preserve the lore, that no Dhakaani may forget.” Her voice takes on a singsong quality and the words resonate strangely, and she is clearly putting forth her bardic ability. “Nine thousand years ago, the daelkyr and their armies came to this world, and Dhakaan stood against them. And they broke us, but though we fell we did not retreat, and in our fall we bought time for the druids of his people,” she nods at Korm, “and those of us who had joined them, to sunder the Plane of Madness from ours and to lock the daelkyr away. But by then the Empire was broken, and Yarkuun Draal had fallen. Thousands …nay, tens of thousands died in its fall. Ever since, the aberrations rule there, and we watch and wait. The time will come when the aberrations will be driven out and Yarkuun Draal - and Dhakaan - will rise again. We wait for that day. That is our story, of glory that was, and that shall be again.”

She stops to take a breath and her voice changes from that of bardic narration to normal conversation. “This Heart you mention, however, I do not know of.”

Six then describes the red ‘ghost’ that the group freed from the chamber with the daelkyr warning.

Tuneer and Reskiit again exchange glances when he finishes and then she says, “I have heard of chambers where the daelkyr penned our people as prisoners or simply disposed of them, and it seems you found one such, but I do not know who, or what, it was that you released. If it was feared by the aberrations, then hopefully it will harm them in some way.”

Six then asks, “Tuneer, when was the last time warforged were around here?”

The bard considers for a moment and then says, “Over a year ago. A group of travelers encountered one of our warbands and they … fought. There were two warforged among them. All of the travelers were slain. It was north and west of here, and they were not going to the City.” She does not make any mention of why they fought.

When translating what Tuneer says, Trillia adds, “There has been the odd rumor over the years - and from well before my time - of travelers who disappeared near the Highlands. It’s safe to say that the Dhakaani are not friendly to all who pass this way.”

Tuneer then says, “Tell me of this parley that you speak of, and who this Naxaliyen is. Why would you parley with the aberrations? Ones as well informed as you seem to be must know they cannot be trusted.”

Korm replies, “Why are we parlaying? Ha - there’s a good story behind that. When we arrived back at our camp yesterday, Naxaliyen sent us a message through the raven-headed rod. We’d heard from an aberration inside that Nax was a mindflayer who was a leader there, so we decided to play the Answering Questions Without Answers game with him, an old Marches riddle game.”

Korm detailed coverage of the messages has various effects on the goblinoids, ranging from Reskiit, who at one point is bent over guffawing with laughter, to Tuneer, who remains more dignified but has a broad grin on her face that she has great difficulty removing even after he is done. “You are a very … unusual group,” she says finally, to which Trillia mutters with a smile, “I might use some other words, but yes, they are.”

When he has finished recounting the message and they become able to breathe again, Korm goes on. “Then Nax sent the awful messenger you saw. He wanted to find out who we were, and what we wanted. He said he was protecting his ‘people’” (Korm pronounces the quotation marks, with as much venom as he can muster) “and wanted to bargain with us, items and information in return for our information about Snookums and us leaving. So that's what we’re doing. So we’re going to accept his gifts, and in return tell him about the red hobgoblin and spin some terrifying story about it. Then we’ll leave this place, for the day at least; we didn’t say we wouldn’t come back.”

“While we spoke, we found out that he was very worried about us trying to go after what he called ‘the heart of the city,’ which he said was very well protected. I do not know what it is, but the aberrations want it safe, so I want it taken or destroyed.”

When Korm is done, Tuneer says, “I do not know of this Naxaliyen, but then the aberrations have many leaders. They live in groups across the city, and each one has one or more leaders. Some are mindflayers, but not all. There are tunnels to Khyber below the city, where one or more powerful aberrations rule. I do not know of ‘the heart of the city’ either, but perhaps it refers to the seal your people, Korm’akhan, built here when Xoriat was sundered from us, before the city’s final fall. It used to be in a large courtyard, on the eastern side of the city, but the aberrations have built a structure over and around it now, or so our scouts report. We do not commonly send them into the city now, since it is too dangerous. The place is not too difficult to find, since it is on the fifth level from the river, immediately below three pillars supporting statues of our ancient kings. They broke the statues in half, but the remnants and the pillars remain.”

She stops and muses for a bit and then says, “But I cannot see why a mindflayer would wish the seal - if that is this ‘heart’ - to be protected. That is the opposite of what they would want. So perhaps it means something else.”

“As for this parley, it is your choice, but I warn you to be careful. The aberrations are treacherous and this might simply be a ploy to try and kill or capture you. We will not help nor hinder in this meeting, but if you return to slay more aberrations or return to the city to do so, we will appreciate it.”

“But now we should leave you. Our people dwell to the north, but I suggest you do not search for them.” When she says this, the Angels realize that the large iron deposits Luna picked up with her use of commune with nature was probably the hobgoblin tribe’s location. Tuneer continues, “Before we go, would you show me what you found in the city. As I said, since you oppose the aberrations, we will let you keep what you find, even though there may be heirlooms of my people’s within them. But there might be a thing or two of value that we would be loath to see in the hands of non-Dhakaani, even those such as yourselves. I hope you understand.”

 

[shilsen]

Trillia agrees to Tuneer’s request and displays what they found, as do her companions, though they are careful to not produce the ‘reference goblin,’ the mummified arm, or either of the symbionts. After examining the objects, Tuneer says that while many of the artifacts are valuable, she has no objection to the group taking them, but the two byeshk weapons would be very helpful to her people.

The adventurers hand them over and then Six asks whether there are byeshk deposits locally available. Tuneer says there are not, with the byeshk weapons they have being relics of the past or crafted from byeshk brought by more recent members of the tribe from places like Darguun. Six explains that he was wondering if the Dhakaani have anything that they could trade, since perhaps he could find a way to obtain byeshk for them, or other things that they may need.

Tuneer seems surprised at the offer and then says that her people have little that they could trade and it is not a real concern of theirs, but Six persists, pointing out that the kind of artifacts they found could be valuable to collectors. Tuneer says that she cannot decide about this personally, but promises to talk to others. Six asks if there is any way he could contact them, since the Angels are likely to return here, and Gareth adds that it would help to have some form of identification so that they are not attacked by mistake on their next visit. Tuneer says that she will have their descriptions passed around and they will be safe. As for contact, she says that if they return here the chances are the Dhakaani will spot them. “Especially if you make camps with a ring of dead runehounds around it.”

With that, the Dhakaani take their leave, heading away towards the north. The adventurers take down the tiny hut and wake Luna, who had moved on from preparing her spells outside to taking a nap. The other spellcasters settle down to preparing their spells.

Once they are done, they heal the various forms of damage that were still in effect from the previous day. Trillia and Nameless each cast an identify on one symbiont. Though they are not truly magic items, they have some similar properties, and the spells reveal certain aspects. The first is what Trillia calls a tongueworm and displays the same abilities as a ring of spell-storing, though it has to be attached to one’s tongue to work (whether to cast spells into or out of it). It currently contains a true strike spell. Nameless identifies the band-like symbiont as similar to a ring of regeneration, but capable of attaching to an arm, leg or neck.

By the time they are done explaining, Luna is jumping up and down in a small puddle of her own drool, going, “Oooh, oooh, oooh - let me try it, let me try it!” Korm momentarily thinks of trying to dissuade her, but decides it’s futile and settles for saying, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you if you turn into an aberration.” Trillia adds that they are likely to have aspects and drawbacks that the identify didn’t reveal, but by the time she’s done, Luna is sticking the band around her arm.

She feels it clamp on tightly and then a minor pain as she feels it attach suckers that pierce her skin. Though the pain disappears instantly, there is a concurrent feeling of weakness*, which doesn’t. When she tells the others, Trillia says that’s probably a result of the band attaching itself and drawing some initial sustenance from her, since symbionts need to be attached to a host in order to survive. She says that the weakness probably only occurs when attaching or removing a symbiont. A relieved Luna quickly uses a spell to heal herself and then attaches the tongue to her own.

When she does, she feels it clasp on like the band, and then feels it uncoil itself (which, since she has her mouth open and tongues extended, everyone else has the joy of seeing) and stretch all the way back to her throat and down it, where it attaches. This too leads to a slightly different feeling of weakness**, requiring the use of another spell, and more amusingly, turns Luna’s voice thin and tinny. The effect remains even when Luna changes into a bear, since the symbionts (being living creatures rather than real magical items) retain their shape and function even when she wild shapes, causing her growl to sound a lot less threatening than it used to.

With that taken care of, the group settles down to breakfast. Luna discovers that she is incredibly hungry and eats three times what she normally does. Korm says, “I told you that symbiont would make you fat. I just didn’t know it would do so indirectly.”

Over breakfast, the group discusses what to do with Naxaliyen’s messengers. Gareth says, “I think we should kill them and take whatever they bring.”

Korm shakes his head. “No. We promised to parley with them, so we should.”

“Why would you parley with them?”

Korm replies, in a tone that says the answer should be obvious, “Honor.”

“But they are aberrations, which you oppose, and are evil. They deserve no honor.”

“They do not deserve honor. But I do. So I act honorably, even if they do not.”

Nameless says, “A druid teaching a paladin about honor. Why am I not surprised?” To Korm, he adds, “Though I’m loath to agree with Gareth, I’ve got to say that you’re insane if you expect them not to attack us.”

“Oh, I’m aware that it’s quite likely they might attack us. In which case I will happily kill them. But I will not be the one to lie. I can be prepared for treachery without being treacherous myself,” concludes Korm, giving Gareth a meaningful look.

The discussion is interrupted by a squawk from the raven skull rod. Its eyes glow and it relays a message, “My messengers will reach you in thirty minutes. I have sent you information, artifacts and magic. Make sure that your information is equally valuable.”

After some discussion, the Angels decide not to reply, and then begin to consider what they will say once the messengers arrive. About fifteen minutes after the raven skull rod spoke, some of them catch sight of movement in the distance, about a quarter of a mile from camp.

While the Angels make their preparations and cast protective spells, the messengers head towards the camp. When they come to a stop some sixty feet away, the leader, a pale and thin dolgaunt steps forward. Its eyeless sockets gaze at the adventurers, as does a small orb that continually circles its head, appearing to be a disembodied eye. It has three holes in its forehead, as did the messenger the previous night.

Behind it is a large open wagon, driven by a pair of nervous-looking dolgrims. It is pulled by an extremely large and malformed ox, the two extra legs and the eye growing out of the tip of its left horn being clear indications of its nature. Beside the wagon stand two large ogres, each of which has a long fringe of tentacles growing on its head instead of hair.

The dolgaunt says, “We are the messengers from Naxaliyen. You are expecting us, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” With that, the dolgaunt’s eye sockets begin to glow with a yellow light, and its voice is replaced by that of Naxaliyen. Its tentacles, which had been moving constantly, slump immediately.

“Here is what I promised you. Now give me the information.”

“First we see what you are giving us.”

At Naxaliyen’s command, the dolgrims turn the wagon around, to show that it holds two sacks and a large box. He climbs onto the wagon and opens them in turn, revealing weapons and armor, Dhakaani artifacts, thousands of silver coins, solid gold bars, parchments (which, unsurprisingly, seems to be made of skin) with writing in daelkyr on them, and other valuable items. Nameless casts a detect magic and finds magical auras from five items in the chest.

“Now tell me.”

Nameless looks at the others and then goes into the preplanned story. “He who is not to be named sent us here. He, she or it—we are not sure—appears to us in dreams. Or rather, to him.” He points at Six.

Though the dolgaunt displays no expression, the voice coming through it sounds a little uncertain. “I do a little of your kind. You do not sleep, so how does this Snookums…”

“Shhhh!” chorus a number of the Angels, while Trillia chokes back her laughter.

This time the dolgaunt waves its tentacles irritated. “I do not have time for that! As I was saying, if you do not sleep, how are you contacted in dreams?”

“We’re a little confused about that ourselves,” says Nameless, trying to sound as sincere as he can. “He who is not to be named told us to go to that room, at any cost, and release what was there.”

“So that was your objective? What did you release from there?”

The Angels provide a completely honest and detailed coverage of everything that they saw in the chamber, focusing on the glowing red hobgoblin.

Naxaliyen listens, asking a few questions here and there. When they are done, he asks, “So you are done with whatever you wished to accomplish here? You will leave now and not return?”

“Yes, we will leave now,” says Korm. “But I wish to test what you have given us first.”

Naxaliyen steps away as Korm climbs onto the wagon. He takes out one of the bars of gold and cuts it in half, the meteoric iron of his sword slicing through neatly to reveal that it is solid gold all the way through.

“Let me do something,” says Nameless. Naxaliyen immediately steps away and the ogres step before him. “Do not worry,” reassures Nameless.

Nevertheless, Naxaliyen says to the ogres in daelkyr, “Careful - he may try something foolish.”

Nameless grins and says in daelkyr as well, “No, I will not try something foolish.”

Naxaliyen doesn’t reply and Nameless tells Korm and Trillia (who has been studying the artifacts), “Get off the wagon. I want to use a dispel and see what it shows.”

“Good idea,” says Trillia, descending and casting detect magic.”

Nameless casts the spell and Trillia sees that the magical auras on the items in the chest promptly wink out. As she opens her mouth to tell him, Naxaliyen reaches down to his belt and pulls off a small chain hanging there.

He promptly disappears in a flash of light, as do the two dolgrims, which had descended and been standing near the wagon. In their stead appear three creatures. Where Naxaliyen was standing appears a mind flayer, but this one has had its tentacles amputated down to short nubs, each with a small gem set into the end. It is also missing an eye, and the other one is far too massive for its head, causing the skin around it to bulge out grotesquely. The eye glows with a bright blue light. The dolgrims are replaced by a pair of creatures that some of the group recognize as nagas. They are large snakes with vaguely human-like heads, reticulated emerald-green patterns running over their bodies, and fiery orange-red spines jutting from their backbones. Each is dripping with water, which pools on the ground around it.

“Now!” cries the mind flayer in daelkyr, its long hands moving in the gestures of a spell.

* 1d3 Str dmg
** 1d3 Con dmg