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The Adventures of the Knights of Spellforge Keep- UPDATED 6/6
- Thread starter Dr Midnight
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Dr Midnight
Explorer
It's the final game day. I'm a little choked up... sniffle...
and, yes, I haven't gotten around to beginning the write-up for the last session (55). Today's, 56, should be the last.
Hang in there, peeps, because very soon, you'll be reading the last written adventure of the Knights. I'm going for epic. Hope I get the time to do some writing tomorrow.
and, yes, I haven't gotten around to beginning the write-up for the last session (55). Today's, 56, should be the last.
Hang in there, peeps, because very soon, you'll be reading the last written adventure of the Knights. I'm going for epic. Hope I get the time to do some writing tomorrow.
Neverwinter Knight
First Post
So? How was it?
Dr Midnight
Explorer
[nevermind]
Last edited:
Dr Midnight
Explorer
Here on Oerth, across the wood, before the seas, beyond the plains
Winged brothers pure and good return to us by Pelor’s pains
A gift, for He has understood the terror in the coming rains
The creature in the mottled hood and more the blood within her veins
The heroes six are now prepared to face the architect of doom
The fallen friend, with monster paired he works outside a prison’s womb
To free the beast therein ensnared and watch its hateful shadows loom
Crow, the blackest wizard dared to make the Oerth his father’s tomb
Here on Oerth, where fate is shared, as death unfurls its wicked bloom.
PROLOGUE
Dartan stood in awe. “I can’t believe it.”
Kizzlorn watched the descending angels. “What? Do you know of them, Dartan?”
“They are the Maximus brothers. Pious zealots in Pelor’s surface. They died, long ago, when we were adventuring through the Temple of Elemental Evil.”
Myramus laughed as he landed lightly on the ground. “Pious and RIGHTEOUS zealots, you mean!” His head and limbs were wolflike, but his voice was singularly his own. Blue-tinged fur and bright yellow eyes shone in the sunlight as he smiled at the Knights.
Menerous gave Dartan a great, burly bear hug. The cleric had died and gone on to be an angel in his god’s service, but death hadn’t helped him shed any weight. The plump, apple-cheeked man picked Dartan up and spun him, chuckling. “HOW ARE YOU, DARTAN??”
“Urk… crushed. Why are you here?” He breathed easy as Menerous released him. To Myramus he said “Why are you a dog?”
“Ha! I would expect no more polite a victory from our old friend. I am known as a Hound Archon… not a ‘dog’. It’s a form I have taken to better help me combat evil on this plane. It’s good to see you.” He turned to the others. “Has Dartan spoken of us in the past?”
Edge, Kizzlorn, and Broldek exchanged confused looks. Kizz cleared her throat. “Uh… I don’t believe…”
“No matter,” Myramus said. “We were, in life, powerful minions of the Shining One. Now, in your greatest hour, we return to aid you. THE BROTHERS MAXIMUS!” They bellowed together and bopped their fists against each other’s.
“Oh, wait! I remember.” Kizz pointed to Myramus. “Didn’t you die in a rockslide?”
The angel’s grin soured. “Ah. Um. …Yes.”
Menerous roared with laughter. “A fact I have given him no end of grief for ever since I died, let me tell you!”
“Yes, yes,” Myramus muttered impatiently. “Every time there’s an argument, it’s ‘at least I died in COMBAT, brother,” or “take care around stacks of PEBBLES, brother.’ I tell you, it’s enough to make you forget you’re in heaven.”
“Oh, calm down,” Menerous said. “We’re back on Oerth, and with a gauntletful of shining justice for the hordes of darkness!”
“Right you are, brother!”
Broldek leaned over to Dartan. “Are they always like this?”
“Well, yes… except for when one or both of them happen to be dead.” He spoke to Menerous. “So. You’ve come down to help us. Your swords are most welcome here… but will we be plagued with the usual amount of preaching? I’ve had quite enough of traveling with sanctimonious sots.”
“Preaching saves souls, Dartan. It may yet save yours.”
“Save it. I’m Dartan the…”
“Godless? Yes, we know. We came with a message for you, from above.”
Dartan pivoted on his heel and began walking to the castle. “Tell Pelor his useless message doesn’t interest me.”
“It’s not from Pelor,” Menerous said. “It’s from your wife.”
Dartan froze. He stayed silent for several moments. Then, “Give it to me.”
Menerous laid a gilded, folded parchment in Dartan’s trembling hand. It was sealed with bright white wax. On the front was written:
~My love~
Dartan took the letter inside. “He’ll be all right,” Menerous said, sighing. “There’s so much anger in him.”
“Light fills the darkness only when the curtain is drawn back, brother. We cannot push him.”
A caw from the Spellforge cemetery’s tree caught Kizzlorn’s attention. She turned her head upward and saw a large black bird standing on a branch, with a letter in its beak. It dropped the letter, cawed, and flew up into the sky. Kizzlorn walked over and plucked the letter from the ground. On the front was written “To the heroes” in a bold hand. She opened it and read.
“What’s that, Kizz?” Edge asked as he saw her reading.
She looked up at him with a grim expression. “It’s from Crow.”
Dearest friends-
By now you’ve destroyed Ashardalon. I knew you could do it… you’re such a plucky little band of fighters, aren’t you? So brave, so righteous. You’re probably sitting about in the Keep right now, sipping wine and patting each other on the back as you always do.
And what am I doing? I’m about to unleash Thuriaq upon the world.
You know I can. I’ve got the keys, and very soon, we’re going to complete the ritual. Do you know what Thuriaq is? The only things that have the slightest chance of stopping him are trapped inside several very pretty, very shiny mirrors beside me as I write. An added benefit I’ve failed to mention until now is that opening Thuriaq’s gate will free all the imprisoned beasts in the world. Do you know how many there are? They number in the hundreds. Some breathe fire. Some eat everything in their path. Some simply crush things beneath their feet… but they’ve all got three things in common. Each is over three hundred feet tall. Each is trapped in a magical cell beneath the surface of the Oerth… and each is furious.
Once they’re freed, the world of men will have hours of screaming and panicking before being destroyed by rampaging mountains of tooth and claw. A more perfect fate I couldn’t conceive. Why? Why does Crow want to do something with no real benefits? I’ll tell you. I’m crazy, unreasonable, and pure evil… which, trust me, feels terrific. Plus, I’ve got problems with my “father”. Mainly, I want to kill him. First, though, I want to break his spirit. I will do this by releasing him to show him the ruined world he couldn’t save, despite forming several bands of adventurers. Then, when he’s covered in the ashes of the dead world, I’ll spit on his tears and destroy him with a simple spell. It will be delicious. What happens to me after that doesn’t matter…
Oh, who will step forward to save the realm from doom?
You will, of course.
My father’s defeat wouldn’t be right without knowing that his most beloved heroes had tried to overcome this horrible evil… and lost. That was what he told me, long ago. Did you know that? When I was Jamison, and just starting out, he warned me. “This isn’t a story, son,” he said. “This is the real world. Adventuring is a dangerous business, and what I know you never read in stories is the absolute despair in defeat- the result of an epic quest gone horribly wrong, the adventurers dead, the evil threat fulfilled.” It was his greatest dread. Evil overcoming good. So, I’m going to make sure he knows this despair at its deepest level before I turn him to dust.
You are cordially invited to try to stop me from freeing Thuriaq. I’ve made all the necessary preparations. I’m waiting here for you, with my sister and several of our old friends.
Dartan knows the way, as does Snooky. It’s time to return to where it all began.
It’s time to return to the Gauntlet.
Crow~
Winged brothers pure and good return to us by Pelor’s pains
A gift, for He has understood the terror in the coming rains
The creature in the mottled hood and more the blood within her veins
The heroes six are now prepared to face the architect of doom
The fallen friend, with monster paired he works outside a prison’s womb
To free the beast therein ensnared and watch its hateful shadows loom
Crow, the blackest wizard dared to make the Oerth his father’s tomb
Here on Oerth, where fate is shared, as death unfurls its wicked bloom.
PROLOGUE
Dartan stood in awe. “I can’t believe it.”
Kizzlorn watched the descending angels. “What? Do you know of them, Dartan?”
“They are the Maximus brothers. Pious zealots in Pelor’s surface. They died, long ago, when we were adventuring through the Temple of Elemental Evil.”
Myramus laughed as he landed lightly on the ground. “Pious and RIGHTEOUS zealots, you mean!” His head and limbs were wolflike, but his voice was singularly his own. Blue-tinged fur and bright yellow eyes shone in the sunlight as he smiled at the Knights.
Menerous gave Dartan a great, burly bear hug. The cleric had died and gone on to be an angel in his god’s service, but death hadn’t helped him shed any weight. The plump, apple-cheeked man picked Dartan up and spun him, chuckling. “HOW ARE YOU, DARTAN??”
“Urk… crushed. Why are you here?” He breathed easy as Menerous released him. To Myramus he said “Why are you a dog?”
“Ha! I would expect no more polite a victory from our old friend. I am known as a Hound Archon… not a ‘dog’. It’s a form I have taken to better help me combat evil on this plane. It’s good to see you.” He turned to the others. “Has Dartan spoken of us in the past?”
Edge, Kizzlorn, and Broldek exchanged confused looks. Kizz cleared her throat. “Uh… I don’t believe…”
“No matter,” Myramus said. “We were, in life, powerful minions of the Shining One. Now, in your greatest hour, we return to aid you. THE BROTHERS MAXIMUS!” They bellowed together and bopped their fists against each other’s.
“Oh, wait! I remember.” Kizz pointed to Myramus. “Didn’t you die in a rockslide?”
The angel’s grin soured. “Ah. Um. …Yes.”
Menerous roared with laughter. “A fact I have given him no end of grief for ever since I died, let me tell you!”
“Yes, yes,” Myramus muttered impatiently. “Every time there’s an argument, it’s ‘at least I died in COMBAT, brother,” or “take care around stacks of PEBBLES, brother.’ I tell you, it’s enough to make you forget you’re in heaven.”
“Oh, calm down,” Menerous said. “We’re back on Oerth, and with a gauntletful of shining justice for the hordes of darkness!”
“Right you are, brother!”
Broldek leaned over to Dartan. “Are they always like this?”
“Well, yes… except for when one or both of them happen to be dead.” He spoke to Menerous. “So. You’ve come down to help us. Your swords are most welcome here… but will we be plagued with the usual amount of preaching? I’ve had quite enough of traveling with sanctimonious sots.”
“Preaching saves souls, Dartan. It may yet save yours.”
“Save it. I’m Dartan the…”
“Godless? Yes, we know. We came with a message for you, from above.”
Dartan pivoted on his heel and began walking to the castle. “Tell Pelor his useless message doesn’t interest me.”
“It’s not from Pelor,” Menerous said. “It’s from your wife.”
Dartan froze. He stayed silent for several moments. Then, “Give it to me.”
Menerous laid a gilded, folded parchment in Dartan’s trembling hand. It was sealed with bright white wax. On the front was written:
~My love~
Dartan took the letter inside. “He’ll be all right,” Menerous said, sighing. “There’s so much anger in him.”
“Light fills the darkness only when the curtain is drawn back, brother. We cannot push him.”
A caw from the Spellforge cemetery’s tree caught Kizzlorn’s attention. She turned her head upward and saw a large black bird standing on a branch, with a letter in its beak. It dropped the letter, cawed, and flew up into the sky. Kizzlorn walked over and plucked the letter from the ground. On the front was written “To the heroes” in a bold hand. She opened it and read.
“What’s that, Kizz?” Edge asked as he saw her reading.
She looked up at him with a grim expression. “It’s from Crow.”
Dearest friends-
By now you’ve destroyed Ashardalon. I knew you could do it… you’re such a plucky little band of fighters, aren’t you? So brave, so righteous. You’re probably sitting about in the Keep right now, sipping wine and patting each other on the back as you always do.
And what am I doing? I’m about to unleash Thuriaq upon the world.
You know I can. I’ve got the keys, and very soon, we’re going to complete the ritual. Do you know what Thuriaq is? The only things that have the slightest chance of stopping him are trapped inside several very pretty, very shiny mirrors beside me as I write. An added benefit I’ve failed to mention until now is that opening Thuriaq’s gate will free all the imprisoned beasts in the world. Do you know how many there are? They number in the hundreds. Some breathe fire. Some eat everything in their path. Some simply crush things beneath their feet… but they’ve all got three things in common. Each is over three hundred feet tall. Each is trapped in a magical cell beneath the surface of the Oerth… and each is furious.
Once they’re freed, the world of men will have hours of screaming and panicking before being destroyed by rampaging mountains of tooth and claw. A more perfect fate I couldn’t conceive. Why? Why does Crow want to do something with no real benefits? I’ll tell you. I’m crazy, unreasonable, and pure evil… which, trust me, feels terrific. Plus, I’ve got problems with my “father”. Mainly, I want to kill him. First, though, I want to break his spirit. I will do this by releasing him to show him the ruined world he couldn’t save, despite forming several bands of adventurers. Then, when he’s covered in the ashes of the dead world, I’ll spit on his tears and destroy him with a simple spell. It will be delicious. What happens to me after that doesn’t matter…
Oh, who will step forward to save the realm from doom?
You will, of course.
My father’s defeat wouldn’t be right without knowing that his most beloved heroes had tried to overcome this horrible evil… and lost. That was what he told me, long ago. Did you know that? When I was Jamison, and just starting out, he warned me. “This isn’t a story, son,” he said. “This is the real world. Adventuring is a dangerous business, and what I know you never read in stories is the absolute despair in defeat- the result of an epic quest gone horribly wrong, the adventurers dead, the evil threat fulfilled.” It was his greatest dread. Evil overcoming good. So, I’m going to make sure he knows this despair at its deepest level before I turn him to dust.
You are cordially invited to try to stop me from freeing Thuriaq. I’ve made all the necessary preparations. I’m waiting here for you, with my sister and several of our old friends.
Dartan knows the way, as does Snooky. It’s time to return to where it all began.
It’s time to return to the Gauntlet.
Crow~
Last edited:
Hammerhead
Explorer
Great update. I can't wait for the climatic fight. I have a question: who is Crow's sister?
8XXX{0}====>
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WHAT! WHAT! AAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!!! Thats so perfect!
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