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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Sniktch" data-source="post: 542923" data-attributes="member: 7704">A round of introductionsBefore I get to the update, I started a second Rogue's Gallery in which to post various NPC's and monsters that the (anti?)heroes face.  I'm not going to provide a ling to avoid tempting my players, but otherwise will trust them to stay away from it.  I started with Larala and Tierak, two current allies of the group, but I plan on throwing up some of the bad guys soon.  *****Artimas entered the wagon and found Tierak sitting at the small desk, sleeping with her head resting on the open pages of a book.  Artimas shook his head.  She looked so peaceful, so beautiful when she was asleep, if only… but never mind.  He was unused to such thoughts.  It was probably just the lack of sleep taking its toll.  Higreld entered behind him and the necromancer motioned to the sleeping dark elf.  “It seems introductions may have to wait.  In the meantime, I know your disguise will wear off soon – you can hide in here until we leave town.  I’m sure you’ll find plenty to occupy yourself with.  If you need sleep you can always climb in here.”  He moved over to the small bed and opened a hidden panel on its side.  It swung open to reveal a small crawlspace comfortably lined with velvet and felt.  The space was originally built to house a vampire servant, but had been empty since that servant was destroyed facing the green dragon Hy’Sharr.Higreld bobbed his head up and down agreeably, giving Artimas the impression that he was about to collapse under the weight of his over-sized skull, then moved to the bookcase and began unpacking volumes and placing them on the lower, empty shelves.  Artimas gently shook Tierak awake and moved her to the bed, then left the drow and goblin to their own devices and headed back into the inn.  He did not stop to talk again with Welby or the young, eager sorcerer, but continued straight to his room and collapsed into bed.That evening Artimas smuggled Tierak out of the wagon and took her to the small chapel of Arawn located near the city crypts.  He left her in the care of the resident priest with orders to ordain the dark elf as a full-fledged priestess of Arawn.  The man seemed reluctant but had no choice but to follow the order, as Artimas far outranked him in the church hierarchy.  Once he was sure his charge was being taken care of, the mage found an acolyte and dictated a letter to be delivered to the leaders of the church in Greystone.  It informed them of his desire to prolong his career and asked for their blessing to begin work on his phylactery.  He planned to start anyway, confident he knew what his superiors’ decision would be.He waited until early morning, taking a quick nap after he’d said his prayers at midnight, when at last Tierak reappeared with an expression of exultation, wearing a holy symbol of Arawn.  Artimas was not surprised; he’d had no doubt his god would take the opportunity to spread his worship, especially with a talented and charismatic individual like Tierak.  They left the temple together and made it back to the King’s Arms just before dawn broke the horizon.The companions remained at Brian’s Stone for the rest of the week.  Artimas kept to his room or the wagon, refusing repeatedly to explain to Bruskin the conditions of his membership or what had happened to the other halfling who’d been with him when they’d met.  Each time the sorcerer approached him the necromancer only smiled and said, “All will be revealed when the city walls lie behind us.”  One other strange event occurred in the middle of the week.  Artimas, Higreld, and Tierak were discussing the layout of Szith Morcane and possible strategies of attack when suddenly the goblin’s face scrunched up and he peered quizically into the air.  All three of the spellcasters felt the intruding presence - they were being watched!  Loathegrot exchanged quick glances with his companions and then exerted his will, suddenly severing the connection and driving the spying presence away.On the last day of their stay a package arrived for Artimas, carried by a young man he recognized as a follower of the Morrigan.  He carried it out to the wagon and opened it excitedly while Higreld and Tierak watched, revealing a shiny shirt of mithral links and a fancy rapier, designed specifically for use by the spectral killer hovering near.  A second delivery came from the armorsmith - twelve suits of chainmail.  One last arrival showed up near dark, and carried thirteen scythes.  Artimas loaded all of it onto the cart and informed the others that they would leave in the morning.  They set out as soon as Welby finished his breakfast, and rode until they reached the entrance to the old crypts, stopping for lunch at midday.  Night fell as they started to set up camp and Artimas informed them that it was time for all of the companions to be introduced.  At his cue, the wagon door opened and an incredibly ugly goblin floated into view and hovered beside the necromancer.  “Higreld Pel Loathegrot, the mage I hired,” Artimas explained.Welby looked at the twisted creature in surprise.  “Hey!  You not halfling!”  The goblin only shook his head and smiled a smile full of small sharp teeth.Bruskin’s reaction was quite different.  His eyes flashed red as the goblin stepped into view, and he nodded absently, as if to himself.  “Very well.  As long as we are revealing secrets, here is mine.”  His features melted and flowed together and became those of a dark haired elf with glowing red eyes.  Meanwhile, the bones in his back knitted together, tore themselves back apart and gradually protruded until a great set of batlike wings grew from the sorcerer’s back.  “This is why I wanted so badly to fight the drow.  Years ago my great grandmother was captured by them and forced to mate with demons in a horrific ritual.  She was rescued but by that time already carried my grandfather.  Now it is time to pay them back for their wicked acts!”A crooked smile twisted the necromancer’s lips as Bruskin the fey’ri wrapped up his statement.  He motioned to the cart and another figure stepped forth, a tall beautiful drow priestess wearing a shirt of glittering mithral.  Bruskin gasped and drew his weapon, and Welby pointed at the dark elf and yelled, “Hey!  You not dead!”A snarl of hatred curled Bruskin’s features but before he could act, a translucent figure coalesced between him and the object of his malice.  The ghost held a rapier in its outstretched hand and glared venomously at the fey’ri as it whispered, “Oh, please try it, I would so love to spill your blood.”Bruskin paled and lowered his weapon, but Welby had a more violent reaction.  “Arty, that Mask!” he cried, running over to the necromancer and grasping his black robes.  “That Mask!”Artimas attempted to calm his friend, “Yes, it is, Welby, but he cannot hurt you.  He is entirely under my control.”  He turned to the sorcerer and continued, “And this should serve as an example to you.  Behold the price of betraying me, and should you think to do so, know that you will share his fate - everlasting servitude.  And thus, we reach the conditions of your membership.  First, that you must cooperate with the individuals seen before you, and second, that I am in charge of this venture and you will defer to my wishes in all matters.  I offer you the option of turning back if this does not appeal to you.”“How can you ask me to work with this being?  Her kind is responsible for my condition!” shouted Bruskin.  Welby continued to cling to Artimas’ robes and stare at the apparition of the Mask in fear.  Tierak sneered at the sorcerer, “Then you should thank us.  Your form is far superior to that of the common, weakling elf.  Besides, it could not have been my people who did this.  No worshipper of Lolth would ever leave an elf alive - your ancestor was captured by some other faction.”Bruskin bristled at the insult but Artimas intervened and tried to smooth things over as best he could.  “Now, we all are gathered to fight the same foe.  All of us are hear to kill drow, and is it not said that the enemy of my enemy is my friend?  There are few of us as it is, let us not worsen things by fighting amongst ourselves.  In the morning we will attack the city and slay all who stand against us.  So what say you Bruskin; is it worth allying with one drow to have the chance to kill dozens?”The fey’ri found himself drawn to this logic and was somewhat appeased.  The Mask faded away, and Welby calmed considerably once the ghost was out of sight.  He briefly considered running away from this situation and this gathering of strange and scary people, but he was still too angry at the loss of his friends.  He would put up with their company if it meant a chance for vengeance.With the immediate hostilities diffused the group went about setting up their camp again.  Just before returning to the wagon to rest for a couple of hours, Artimas and Tierak entered the crypts alone.  They returned shortly followed by a small army of undead - the shadow of the roper slain on their previous visit, thirteen skeletons from the common crypts, and the zombies of Tierak’s former companions.  Artimas drifted off to sleep satisfied with his preparations.  When he woke, Szith Morcane was going to burn.(All caught up finally, at least until next session)</blockquote>

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