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Message: <blockquote data-quote="shilsen" data-source="post: 3991469" data-attributes="member: 198">The Angels spend most of the next day helping move members of the expedition and equipment for it to the points from which it will enter the Mournland. They also spend a little time talking with Fett via the farspeaking amulet, discussing the possibility of hiring an airship to fly over the Mournland with them. Fett has found a group of privateers who own a particularly fast and maneuverable ship called the Sirocco, which rumor says they actually stole from House Lyrandar and only retain due to some deal worked out with the dragonmarked house, but the price they ask is too abortive.At which point Six, who had suggested the airship in the first place, makes the mistake of suggesting something else. “What about a flying carpet? The point of having a flying platform is for us to have a space to withdraw to above the Mournland.”Luna’s eyes light up immediately. “A carpet? A flying carpet? That would be so cool!”Nameless shakes his head. “It wouldn’t be worth it. We could afford one, and even though they’re really rare we might be able to find a couple for sale in Sharn, but they’re too small. The largest ones are only ten feet long and wide, and cost over twice what our house does.”“Maybe we can get one of the biggest ones,” asks Gareth, “And use it with Luna and you on it, since you have the most powerful spells. The rest of us could be in the portable hole. Or just get a smaller one with you the only one outside, with an invisibility spell on you.”“I think we should get two medium sized ones or two big ones and sell the house in Sharn so we never have to go back ever,” Luna says excitedly.“You’re already bought out of the house,” points out Nameless. “And you don’t have to go back. We’d probably prefer it if you never went back to Sharn.” I’m pretty sure everyone who knows you there would say the same. Turning to Gareth, he says, “And how long would you sit in the hole? Remember, we’d need to enter the Mournland multiple times if we did…”Luna interrupts, “Yes, but it would help you raise money for the carpets. Which affects me! I can die, you know! And they don’t want you there either! In case you’re forgetting, you’re being thrown out of your community! And it’s supported by your government!” She jabs a finger at Gareth. “Just like the Thranish Inquisition!”“Hey!” says Gareth indignantly. “Leave me out of this! I had nothing to do with the Inquisition, remember?”“Have they told you yet where in Sharn you’re allowed to live?” Luna continues, growing more and more excited, “Sure … Emerald Claw cell … fine … illegal enforcement dogs … turncoats … they can live anywhere … they’re welcome! But you’re not! I don’t think you guys get it!”Nameless ignores the discussion about the house, having had enough of the subject, and focuses on the other. “You want a carpet. You have enough money to buy one. You’ll have to trade most of your magic items for it, but you can get one if you really want it. Your call.”“But what’s wrong with them?! If you guys chip in we can get a lot. We could get four and tie them together and have one giant one! And I could make it fly faster by casting wind spells behind it! It would be cool! And fun!”The alienist’s voice turns flatter as he gets more irritated. “Nobody else wants one. They're slow. They don't carry enough. There’s no way to secure yourself on one. And they are horribly expensive for essentially no advantages.”“No advantages! You can sleep on one and get your spells back! You can stand on one and cast spells! You can enhance their speed with spells! And it’s not like going in some horrid hole!”Nameless snaps, “Anyone who can cast spells in our group can already fly! You can’t enhance the speed of a carpet of flying with spells. Summoning up a wind or something is just going to make it difficult to control and maybe knock people off the carpet.” He waves a hand at her gigantic form and says through almost gritted teeth. “Carpet of flying. Ten feet by ten feet. Capacity – 800 pounds. A typical dire bear is a dozen feet long and weighs as much as 8,000 pounds. And then there’s you! DO. THE. MATH!”Luna looks down at herself. Everyone remains silent, awaiting a response, but after a few seconds she looks up and says only, “Oh!”Nameless lifts both eyebrows, and then looks up at the sky, spreading his arms. “Let Xoriat come! Now that I’ve actually managed to shut Luna up, nothing is ever going to be impossible for me!”* * * * * * * * * *Two days later, the Angels stand at the border of Breland, staring at the wall of Dead-Gray Mist which marks the border of the Mournland. It rises before them to a height of approximately five hundred feet, though they can see plumes and mountains of mist which rise much higher. Behind them are stand a large number of tents and a couple of small buildings, extending around the Orien road as it comes up to the mist. Over a hundred and fifty people move around the area, comprising the half of the expedition which will be entering the Mournland from this location. They include Cannith artificers and warforged, Deneith mercenaries (consisting of a troop of Dhakaani hobgoblins from the Ruus Dhakaan clan, and a squad of warforged veterans of the Last War), scholars from Morgrave University, and ex-Cyrans of all descriptions. The hobgoblins and warforged, who will be providing security for the others, are all heavily armed. Almost all of the warforged wear the harnesses that Six introduced to House Cannith, having been fitted with them to increase survivability in the Mournland. A small squad of soldiers from Fort Kennrun is also present, to provide additional security for the group who will stay outside the Mournland.Corven is present too, since he will be entering with them, though he will be leaving within hours to meet the other half of the expedition. He walks over to the Angels and says, “Ready to head in?”“Yes,” says Nameless. “Anything particular we should keep in mind?”“Just the sort of stuff I’ve already told you. You’ll find it disorienting in the mist and visibility will be almost nonexistent, but try to keep heading dead east. There’s no way to say how thick it is at this point. Don’t panic if it takes longer than you think it should.” He chuckles. “Of course, you guys can handle anything you run into better than anyone else, so that’s probably redundant.” “I think we should rope ourselves together for greater safety,” says Six.“Good idea,” agrees Nameless. Then, to Corven, he says, “Maybe we should carry a rope laying it out behind us, so you have something to follow.”Corven nods. “I’m not sure how well that’ll work, but it doesn’t hurt to try.”A couple of minutes later, a pair of warforged stand ready with a huge coil of rope, one end of which is tied around the waist of Luna in the lead, and looped around each of her companions. Corven nods and gives the Angels a thumbs-up, and they walk into the Dead-Gray Mist.As soon as the mist envelops them, the Angels find that it is even thicker and more impenetrable to sight than a fog cloud. The people immediately before and behind them disappear from sight, and it’s barely possible to see a hand when placed an inch or two from one’s face. Sound too is drastically muffled, and within seconds they can barely hear their own footfalls. Nameless’ arcane sight begins to malfunction seconds after entering, the auras he detects from his companions flickering and shifting. Gradually the auras spread and separate into threes, until it seems to him that instead of his four companions, three of each are walking next to each other. The constant shifting of the auras also begins to give him a headache. “I don’t like this one bit!” growls Luna. Korm’s muffled voice replies, “Join the club. Let’s keep going and get out.”The Angels continue, finding that the mist is beginning to become somewhat claustrophobic. The feel of the Orien trade road below their feet quickly fades away. Seconds after that happens, Six – who is bringing up the rear – feels the rope go slack behind him. “Hold on!” he says, causing the others to halt, and then pulls in the rope. It ends only a dozen feet behind him in a neat cut, without any signs of fraying. “The rope’s been cut,” he explains. “And very close behind me, though I felt nothing.”“Great! That’s all…,” begins Gareth, and then stops as he sees a face appear in the mist near his. It disappears instantly, but the paladin has enough time to see that it looks like a particularly sad young woman’s, with tears streaming down her face. A soft, wordless murmur reaches his ears, but seeming to come from the opposite direction to the face. “Did anyone else see that?!”There’s silence for a moment and then a couple of the others say, “If you mean a face, then yes.”The Angels begin to hear more soft murmurs and whispers, though the words are never clear, and a few faces, usually sad and weeping, which disappear as soon as they disappear. “They’re not magical,” says Nameless, “Or at least not of a kind my arcane sight detects.”“Gareth, can you detect evil in the area?” Six asks.Gareth groans. “I just knew you’d say that. Okay, but I am not going to detect thoughts, in case anyone thought of suggesting it!”Nameless says, “Thank the gods! He’s finally learning!”Gareth ignores the comment and concentrates and, a second later, begins to detect multiple moderately evil auras around them. The strange thing is that each aura appears as a point rather than an actual form, and it disappears as soon as he detects it. It is like being surrounded by sparks of evil, which constantly flash into life and disappear as quickly. Gareth explains what he detected and says, “Could be undead, since they detect as evil whether they really are or not.”“I’m thinking it’s quite possible this entire Mist is made up of the souls of those slain on the Day of Mourning,” says Nameless.“So we’re inside a giant mist of undead?” asks Luna. “That’s just great!” A second later, she gives a startled growl as something cold strokes the side of her muzzle. Though she cannot see the source and it lasts only a long second, she could swear that it was a small hand. “Gah! Something just touched me!”As Luna speaks, a bell begins to toll to the Angels’ left, its mournful tones ringing clearly through the otherwise muffling mist.“All right,” says Nameless decisively. “That’s it. I wanted to avoid trying unusual experiments here, but I think it’s time.” “What do you want to do?” Gareth asks suspiciously.“You’ll see,” Nameless grins. He fumbles blindly in a pouch and produces a pinch of powdered iron, before casting a spell. The iron disappears, as does the mist in a ten foot radius about him. His magical abilities and enhancements fade away too, as the anti-magic field takes effect, leaving the alienist significantly weaker, but right now he thinks it’s worth it. Despite the removal of the mist in his location, Nameless can see nothing, and he quickly produces a tinderbox and lights a torch. “I can’t remember the last time we had to rely on something like this.” The other Angels gather close around him, benefiting from the field too, not even Luna complaining at the disappearance of her bear form. They stand in a hemisphere with pitch black walls, formed by the mist held at bay by Nameless’ spell. After studying it for a few seconds, Six steps out of the field, firmly holding onto Korm’s shoulder while doing so, and then returns to say, “It’s weird. The mist seems much thicker around the area, as if it were trying to get back in. That’s what’s making it so black. It’s a little lighter when you get a foot or so from your field.”“Well, it’s not getting in for the next 2 hours, so let’s move on. Maybe this will help with getting through.” The Angels proceed to do so, forming a tight cluster around Nameless. After walking on for a good fifteen minutes, Korm says, “Anybody else certain we’re going in the right direction? We’ve covered a good distance.”“Search me,” says Gareth. “Direction’s impossible to make out here. But I don’t think turning around will do any good.”“Agreed,” says Six. “I just hope we haven’t got turned around already and are walking north or south and circling the Mournland. Let’s keep going.”It eventually takes the Angels over an hour since they entered before they suddenly stumble onto what looks like the remnants of an Orien trade road. Following it, only a minute or two later they step through the Mist. A blasted and broken land stretches around them, cloaked in an eternal twilight, which shines – if one can use that term for the weak gray corpse-light – from the Dead-Gray Mist which forms not just a wall but a ceiling for the land, hanging thickly a little over a hundred feet above it. Much of the ground is exposed, gray earth, and the only common vegetation seems to be a coarse grass and some twisted bushes. A few trees dot the landscape or grow in small clumps, with completely bare branches and twisted, blackened bark. The ground, flat but uneven, undulates into the distance as far as one can see. Corpses dot the ground here and there, as befits the Angels’ position in the world’s largest mass grave.</blockquote>

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