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

[Dilandau Kale]

Did Luna and the........ Actually the less I know the better my sanity will be in this case.

 

[Rackhir]

Did Luna and the........ Actually the less I know the better my sanity will be in this case.

This exchange was over the first panel of the "What's New?" comic I posted.

Oh yes we do. Why do you think none of us can sleep at night....

You guys just don't know what you're missing! LOL!!

 

[Rackhir]

We had a very entertaining session tonight. We got to run into some "old friends" and I got to break out my best Evil Laugh....

 

[Furby076]

I got to be a dragoon, ala final fantasy

 

[carborundum]

First time I read that I thought it said Dragon!

Glad you're having a blast! The more fun you guys have the more cool stuff we all get to read

 

[shilsen]

First time I read that I thought it said Dragon!

Me too! I was thinking, "Wait a sec - I was DMing and I don't remember Gareth becoming a dragon!"

Glad you're having a blast! The more fun you guys have the more cool stuff we all get to read

On that note, I've had lots of work recently, which is why my gaming time has mostly been focused on prepping stuff for the game rather than the story hour. But I'm on spring break for a week, so expect some updating after a few days.

 

[Furby076]

First time I read that I thought it said Dragon!

Glad you're having a blast! The more fun you guys have the more cool stuff we all get to read

Me too! I was thinking, "Wait a sec - I was DMing and I don't remember Gareth becoming a dragon!"

That's what happens when you turn around for a split second, the paladin sneaks a dragon right behind your back

On that note, I've had lots of work recently, which is why my gaming time has mostly been focused on prepping stuff for the game rather than the story hour. But I'm on spring break for a week, so expect some updating after a few days.

My apologies to all the readers. We ran out of duct tape and Shilsen escaped from the dungeon, my basement, where we keep him until he finishes dming.

 

[Rackhir]

Glad you're having a blast! The more fun you guys have the more cool stuff we all get to read

Oh all the toys are coming out of the box at this point.

 

[carborundum]

<burns>Eeeeexcellent!</burns>


@Avi, Rackhir: Yeah! Kick butts and take names! Stoopid Xoriat abominable monstrosity thinks it can get the better of the Angels? I don't think so!

@Shilsen: No worries mate, it'll be ready when it's ready. And my instant email notification will be waiting!

 

[shilsen]

@Shilsen: No worries mate, it'll be ready when it's ready. And my instant email notification will be waiting!

And here it is...

* * * * * * * * * *
Two days later…

The huge room, due to its location and nature, is one which has been occupied by many powerful and unusual individuals. Deep within the Cathedral of the Silver Flame, atop the central peak of the rocky mountain at the heart of Flamekeep, it has long been the favored magical sanctum of the Keeper of the Flame, a place where Jaela (and previously, her predecessors) can retire to cast her most powerful spells undisturbed. Angels have stood within the summoning circle in the center, and even, on rare cases, fiends. On half a dozen occasions, powerful entities have battled to the death within this chamber’s walls.

But no collection of individuals this unique has ever gathered here. The diminutive Keeper stands at the apex of the pentagram inscribed in the central circle, focusing on its center. At the point of the star on her left side stands Trillia Lelleir, Nameless’ former mentor, one of the most powerful arcanists in Sharn – and by far the weakest person in the room. That fact might explain her furrowed brow, or perhaps it is the presence of the figure on her left. He is an ancient elf, completely hairless, the skin pulled tight over his head and face to give it a skull-like appearance. The small purple tentacles around his right wrist writhe gently, while the fingers of his disproportionately muscular right arm move in the gestures of a spell. The normally expressionless visage of Mordain the Fleshweaver shifts into a ghastly smile.

The two other points of the pentagram are occupied by a comparatively innocuous-looking pair of individuals, a young man and an elven woman, both dressed in a style which fits nothing found among the varied species and metropolises of Khorvaire. The reason is obvious – to those who know these are Essirise and Karaglen, both silver dragons, members of the Chamber in Argonnessen.

All five of them concentrate on the figure at the center of the pentagram, a young shifter, though her appearance and accoutrements make it clear that she is hardly normal either. Luna’s eyes are shut and sweat beads on her face. Around her, placed in small piles, are the gems which she and her companions found in the Cyst in the Mournland. Their combined light gleams brightly on her, strangely seeming to only shine inwards and not towards those standing around the pentagram.

The glow intensifies and Luna grunts softly. Essirise urgently whispers, “Keep concentrating! We have only one chance at this. Focus your mind on what the other Angels were like. Their mannerisms. Habits. The magical items they carried. The clothing they wore. Everything that you can recall.”

“I am, I am!” Luna replies, eyes still closed in concentration. As more sweat drips off her face, she grumbles, “And I have a horrible headache! Is that supposed to happen?”

“Unfortunately,” Essirise responds, her tone soothing, “That is a likely indicator that the ritual is working, since we are reconstructing the other Angels from the images in your mind.” As Luna opens her mouth in what is clearly another protest, Essirise quickly forestalls her. “The ritual is almost complete. Please continue to focus!”

The shifter mutters something opprobrious under her breath but complies, as the illumination from the gems visibly begins to increase. In seconds, it seems as if Luna is standing under a very bright summer sky, though those around the circle still remain partly in shadow.

Then, the gems pulse once, twice and a third time, each flash of light stronger than the previous one – and wink out. Slowly, all six hundred and sixty-six of them crumble into dust, which then disappears into nothingness. Not that anyone else in the room pays attention, since all eyes are on the four figures that appear out of seeming nothingness as the light of the gems finally disappears.

Korm, sword still in hand, looks around in confusion. “How did we get back here?”

Beside him, Gareth wipes a hand across an equally surprised face and bows to Jaela. “Did you raise us, Keeper? We were killed, correct?”

“It certainly felt like it,” Six mutters quietly as he moves forward, smoothly putting away his spiked chain.

Nameless says nothing for a few seconds, dispassionately considering the collection of people in the room. Finally, as he follows Six, the alienist says calmly, “Clearly this was more than a simple raise dead or even a resurrection. Which leads to the obvious question – precisely how deep is the sh*t we are currently in?”

While the others emerge from the circle, Luna stands stock-still within it, staring around her with an expression which shifts from joy to confusion to irritation. “You were all dead! We brought you back! With lots and lots of effort! So! You! Are! WELCOME!”

* * *
Over the next couple of hours, the revived Angels are filled in by the others—except for Mordain, who leaves moments later (after having congratulated them on their resurrection and commented acerbically that they should not be so remiss as to die again)—exactly how they were returned to life, and also informed about the current situation in Khorvaire. Luna, Jaela and Essirise take turns, often simultaneously, at narrating the information and events, while Karaglen and Trillia put in a word or two at moments.

They explain that the dragon Conclave in Argonnessen, as is usually the case on subjects of great moment, deliberated for a long time over the question of whether—and how—to get involved in the Xoriat invasion. They discussed the question for a month and a half, carefully studying Luna—who remained in stasis throughout the period—as they did so. Finally, they were persuaded by a combination of the eloquence of Jancarlyrix, representative of the Chamber, and the testimony of some of the most revered dragon sages that the Prophecy indicated the daelkyr invasion would require involvement by the dragons, and that the Angels still had a key role to play. The Conclave agreed to allow members of the Chamber to involve themselves in the efforts against the daelkyr, but would not otherwise commit any of Argonnessen’s might to the cause.

Once the decision was reached, Luna was released from stasis. Jancarlyrix informed her that he would speak to others of the Chamber and see however many of the dragons would be willing to help in Khorvaire. When Luna said that she was pleased for the aid but would have to return to Khorvaire instantly, Essirise said that she would accompany Luna to help bring the Angels back. The dragon alienist Karaglen, who had used his knowledge of Xoriat to research a method that he hoped would work, said that he would go too.

When Luna returned to Sharn with the two dragons, she found things drastically changed since she had left. Over two months had passed since the death of the other Angels. The forces of Xoriat had increased their presence and assaults, despoiling large swathes of Khorvaire. While none of the major nations had actually fallen, with all of them still primarily held by their native forces, all of them had suffered, especially Aundair and Thrane. Sharn had been attacked once more and, though the assault was repelled quite easily, many people did die in the fighting, including Tasra d’Deneith, sister to Gareth’s fiancée Lalia.

More worryingly, after the destruction of the capital of the Shadow Marches, the Chaos Serpent, Mual-Tar, had slowly headed north and east, accompanied by some of the army that had crushed the Marcher forces outside Zarash’ak. As it travelled, more aberrations joined it, until it led a horde that numbered in the tens of thousands. The giant army, far larger than any aberration force that had been seen in Khorvaire thus far, made its way up through the Shadow Marches, across southern Aundair and into southwest Thrane, destroying whatever stood in its way. And then, once inside Thrane, it headed directly in a straight line for Flamekeep. Which it was likely to reach in less than a week when Luna returned.

Luna and the two dragons quickly travelled to Flamekeep, where they met Jaela and explained Karaglen’s plan. Unable to draw upon the powers of draconic magic, which he was neither skilled in nor allowed to use in Khorvaire (on pain of death, at the Conclave’s command), the dragon alienist had decided to draw upon the unique nature of the Angels. After all, none of the Angels was what they had once been. Over the course of their adventures, they had been blessed by the Silver Flame, transformed by the Fleshweaver’s eldritch powers, and touched by Xoriat. Karaglen created a ritual to unite the forces of powerful spellcasters representing all these sources—Jaela, Mordain, Trillia—and aided by Essirise and himself, powered by the reality-warping magic inherent in the gems obtained from the Cyst, which would actually reconstitute the Angels based on the detailed memories Luna had of them.

Though all of them were somewhat dubious about the possibility, those whom Karaglen needed agreed to provide help, and the ritual was carried out. With, apparently, complete success.

Once the explanation is over, Korm asks, his expression quizzical, “So what exactly are we? Was that a fancy way of saying you resurrected or reincarnated us?”

“Neither,” says Karaglen. “We remade you. So you are what you were. Exactly as you were. Or, more precisely, everything that Luna remembered of you.”

As Luna beams around, Gareth looks up from his left hand and says, “He’s right. I had a small birthmark on the back of my little finger. It’s gone now. I’m guessing Luna never saw it.”

Nameless mutters, mostly to himself, “Gods! Now we really are figments of Luna’s imagination!” He shakes his head and continues, a little louder, “Interesting. I’d like to learn more about this, but it seems we have more pressing issues to deal with?”

“Yes,” says Jaela heavily. “The serpent. Mual-Tar. And its army.”

“How far away are they now?” asks Six.

As he speaks, the door opens and a figure walks in, wearing both his habitual battered armor and rough stubble. Cedric cocks an eyebrow at the assemblage and then says dryly, “I have your answer, Six. Two days. Three at the most.”

Once Cedric has congratulated the Angels on their return, he begins to explain the situation with the aberration force, which he has been shadowing and harrying for over a week now, with most of the cavalry of Flamekeep. His attacks have slowed their advance, but there is little else he can do at the moment, since he is heavily outnumbered. The army led by Mual-Tar has swelled with more aberrations emerging from the Mournland (which, during the Angels’ absence, multiple aberration armies have entered and appeared from), till it now numbers well over twenty thousand.

“We can’t keep them from reaching Flamekeep,” Cedric says flatly. “All we can decide is how best to resist them.” He looks over the Angels. “We got you back at just the right time, it seems.”

“I feel very lucky,” Nameless rasps in return. “Has there been any sighting of Antaratma? A daelkyr lord’s presence should not go unnoticed.”

“No,” says Jaela, “And he seems invisible to divinations. I’ve tried. Perhaps he’s in the Mournland?”

“Perhaps. If he’s not with the army, that does help us. A bit.”

“Yeah,” says Luna, “But that damn snake is with them. And I already told you what it can do.”

“Yes,” replies Six, “But we also have an army to think of. What is the situation here?”

Cedric begins to explain, at one point producing a map of Flamekeep and laying it out for everyone to study. “Most of the people have been evacuated already,” he says, “And we’re leaving this bridge,” he indicates the northern one of the three giant bridges that link the island of Flamekeep to the land surrounding it, “For more evacuation. We actually destroyed this southern bridge already, so we can channel the aberrations towards the eastern bridge. That’ll force them to attack from a narrower front and make defense easier.”

Gareth studies the map and muses aloud, “It’s a pity that they have such an advantage in numbers. If you could hit them hard enough with your cavalry when they are attacking from the east, it would drive them back against—or even into—the bay.”

Cedric grimaces slightly. “I wish. Unfortunately, there’s no chance of doing that with what we have.”

“Wait,” says Korm. “If we can’t drive them into the bay, why not bring the bay to them?”

Luna looks at the Gatekeeper quizzically. “You mean with some of my—our—control winds spells? I don’t think that would do it.”

“No,” Jaela adds. “There just would not be enough wind to do it, especially considering the cliffs in the area. You’d need something like a tidal wave or something.”

“For which,” Nameless adds, “Wind would be insufficient. A large earthquake would be necessary. Much larger and more protracted than even a series of earthquake spells can create. Which is clearly beyond our capabilities,” he pauses for a moment, “But dropping a sufficiently large mass into the bay would achieve it.”

“Large? You’d need something gigantic.”

“True,” the alienist nods. “Like when the northern edge of the island of Trebez Shinara collapsed and decimated the fleets in the Lhazaar Principalities during the Last War.”

A huge grin spreads across Korm’s face and he wordlessly stabs a thick finger down on the map, resting it on a spot at the far corner, a spot which would be barely visible from Flamekeep.

Six looks down at the painted shape beneath Korm’s finger and then says, “Thronehold. Former capital of Galifar.”

There is a collective silence and then finally a long, low whistle from Cedric. And then the paladin begins to laugh.