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Message: <blockquote data-quote="shilsen" data-source="post: 3963889" data-attributes="member: 198">“So you’re definitely interested?” asks Corven, looking around at his old companions as they sit in his rooms in New Cyre. The former member of the Angels is clearly doing well for himself, looking healthier and maybe even a little paunchy in comparison to when he was adventuring with them.“Yes,” says Nameless. “We’re going to need to do some work in there and since you’d asked a while ago, we thought we could help you in the process.”“Thanks. I appreciate that. From all that I’ve been reading about your activities, I gather you’ve picked up a few skills since I last saw you, and I’m sure your abilities and expertise will come in very handy. So, what are you doing in the Mournland?” Complete silence greets his question and after a couple of seconds, he raises a hand. “Actually, you know what? I don’t need to know. This is one of these things where I’m safer not knowing, right?” Nameless nods and says succinctly, “Definitely.”Corven grins. “Hey, I spent enough time around you bunch, remember?” He winks at Korm. “You have my sympathies. So let me tell you a bit about the expedition.”He goes on to explain that the expedition is going into Mournland in five days. It is the largest expedition to ever enter the area and will be doing so in a double-pronged manner, half going in from near the large town of Vathirond at the north-eastern corner of Breland, while the other half will be doing so from near Fort Kennrun, further to the south. Corven prefers that the Angels accompany the southern group. Each group will include artificers from House Cannith, scholars from Morgrave University, and former Cyrans of all stripes, with security provided by House Deneith. The groups will establish a camp both inside and outside the Dead-Gray Mist which surrounds the Mournland, with multiple smaller parties heading into the Mournland from the inner camps. For example, parties from the southern group will head for the former camp of the deceased Lord of Blades and the remnants of the city of Making. These parties have different objectives ranging from general study to examining a particular location to attempting to recover particular lost objects. The expedition is expected to last at least a month and may extend its stay depending on discoveries, use of resources, loss of members, etc.After Corven covers these basic details, Nameless asks him to tell them as much as he can about the Mournland. Corven proceeds to expand on a number of the unusual elements of the area beginning with the Dead-Gray Mist, the wall of thick gray mist which forms a wall and ceiling to the land. He mentions that it varies drastically in width, has been known to disorient and sometimes harm those traveling through it, and probably has creatures dwelling within it. He goes on to warn of the problems with food and water in the Mournland, since nothing growing or living in there is safely edible, nor can the water there be drunk. Food and water must be brought in from outside, and this is further complicated by the fact that provisions in even securely sealed containers will sometimes rot and decay incredibly fast. Only provisions stored in extradimensional spaces are completely safe, until one removes them. Navigation is also complicated. Maps of pre-Mournland Cyre are of very limited use, since the terrain has shifted drastically and most landmarks have disappeared. The few maps made by earlier expeditions are not much better, since the terrain of the Mournland also seems to shift dramatically over time, so a journey that took three days may take twice that long on the way back. Corven then goes on to talk about the problems of magic in the Mournland, especially the fact that almost no healing magic works in there. Gareth promptly interrupts. “Healing doesn’t work in there? Any healing?” He turns to Nameless. “Why are we going in there again?”The Angels begin to grin at the paladin’s worried face and tone, and Corven throws back his head and guffaws. “Ah – I see some things never change.” He looks at Nameless. “So I guess ‘heal me, heal me!’ is still Gareth’s war-cry?”Nameless chuckles, “Yes. Very much so.”Gareth scowls and says, “Very funny. I just want to make sure what we’re going into. So, no healing at all?”“Not for you,” replies Six, with a metallic chuckle, “But repair spells work fine on me. I always said you need to be more metal.”“Six is right,” corroborates Corven. “Normal healing spells don’t work. But you have one advantage, since you’re a paladin.”“We’re not completely sure about that,” grins Korm.Corven lifts a quizzical eyebrow but doesn’t ask, explaining, “Your ability to heal wounds by touch will still work.”“And we can heal in extradimensional spaces too,” says Nameless, “Such as a rope trick or a magnificent mansion. Right, Corven?”“Correct. That’ll be your best option. The main issue with magic is that the Mournland distorts it in many ways, some of it being consistent – like with the effect on healing magic – or tied to particular locations, and some being completely random and dependent on nobody knows what cause. Luckily, there are some things we’re fairly sure of. For example, divinations cast from outside the Mournland tend to be almost useless about its contents, and are only slightly better inside it. And this includes creatures entering the Mournland, which become incredibly hard to use divinations on. There especially seems to be no way to divine the cause of the Mournland, with even spells as powerful as commune, contact other plane and legend lore providing no information at all.” The Angels, with their information about the role that Nameless inadvertently played on the Day of Mourning, all keep silent, and Corven continues, “Something which doesn’t matter to most people, since they aren’t powerful enough to employ it, but will to you is teleportation magic. Teleportation into the Mournland from outside simply fails to work. Teleportation within the Mournland or out of it does often work, but with drastically random effects. Similarly, any conjured creature sent across the boundary of the Dead-Gray Mist apparently winks out of existence. Creatures can be conjured inside the Mournland but the effects are fairly random. There have even been cases of them attacking their summoners, though that should not be possible. Necromancy is both extremely powerful and incredibly dangerous within the Mournland, which is understandable since it is effectively a mass grave.” Corven hesitates slightly, clearly thinking of all that he and his countrymen lost that day, before continuing, “Nearly 2 million people died on the Day of Mourning, and their bodies still litter the land, since the dead do not decay there. The Mournland is heavily populated by the spirits of the dead and their lingering life energy allows necromantic spellcasting to often be much more powerful than the caster expected, but usually to have all sorts of additional effects. Not necessarily good ones.” He smiles thinly. “Not that I expect you’ll be practicing much necromancy in there.”Corven continues to the subject of the inhabitants of the Mournland, of which there are actually quite a large number. Those creatures which survived the Day of Mourning were all warped and changed in various ways, usually much to their detriment and that of those which meet them. The Mournland has apparently also formed its own ecology, with new creatures appearing that are unseen elsewhere in Khorvaire. The most famous of these aberrant life forms are the living spells, thousands of which exist there. Though the original theory was that living spells were created specifically on the Day of Mourning, there is some evidence now that more are appearing, including deadlier and more powerful varieties than before.This is the piece of information which really interests Luna, who has been seeming significantly bored with most of the preceding information. “Living spells? That’s what I was interested in. I want one for a pet!”“Umm … what?”“I want one. I’ve wanted one ever since Nameless told me about them!”Corven looks at Nameless with incredulity, the emotion only diminished because this is Luna saying what she is. “You did tell her what a living spell is, right?”Nameless says dryly, “Yes. And you haven’t been gone long enough to have forgotten how little difference that makes.”“What?” Luna scowls. “Why do you idiots keep acting like that? I just want one. Not even a big one. Maybe a poison one? That would be so cool! I could keep it in my room. And since I’m immune it wouldn’t bother me, but if some idiot like that bastard Kestran came to my room then it would melt his head off!”Corven makes one effort to explain. “Luna – a living spell is a mindless creature which only seeks to destroy whatever it encounters.”“So? If I keep it long enough I’m sure it’ll grow to love me!”“And,” mutters Korm, “I will hug it and kiss it and love it and call it fluffy!”“Shut up, you!” growls Luna. “You’re just jealous because I can have my own little poison cloud and you can’t because you’re not immune, like a real druid would be!” She turns back to Corven. “Anyway, about getting my cloud….”Nameless waves at Corven over Luna’s head. “You know, we’ve got a couple of other places to go. How about we come back another time?”Corven, already holding a hand to his head, nods. “Yes, that would be best.”* * *Since distance is no longer an issue for them, the Angels decide to head back to Sharn and inform Flim Turen of what happened with them and their house. The gnome correspondent is very happy to hear the story and takes copious notes about it, promising to check with Balan and have a story about it in the Korranberg Chronicle as soon as he can.With that taken care of, the adventurers discuss what to do next. Nameless suggests visiting Q’barra and taking out another army for practice, but the others prefer to go after the manifest zone that Saala told them of in the Shadow Marches. So Nameless teleports them to the spot. With it already being evening by this point, they decide to make camp for the night and head into the tunnels the next morning. Nameless puts up a rope trick half a mile from the entrance and the Angels settle down for the night, looking forward to a day of kicking aberration ass and not taking any names.</blockquote>

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