The Adventures of the Knights of Spellforge Keep- UPDATED 6/6
- Thread starter Dr Midnight
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Dursk Starkfire
First Post
Wow, how quickly the fallen are forgotten. Poor Metus, not the same after he cut his head off. At least he doesn't have to do domestic chores like sweeping. 
Neverwinter Knight
First Post
Just as long as we're waiting for the next piece :nag: :nag:
Dartan
Wee Jas said:Where is Doc? WRITE WRITE!
In the meantime... who would win in a fight?
Dartan or mini-vek?
Dartan
Dursk Starkfire
First Post
amen NWN. bout time we had some level-headed people around here. I just wish Dartan's player were a munchkin, then we could REALLY see his potential!
Are Dartan and Kizz REALLY the only core race PC's left? Maybe Oaken, but I'm not really sure WHAT he is...
Doc, we want more story! Throw in some HeroClix action if you want, we don't care! Just more story! (put in the part where your Medic blew away the rest of the Knights, feel free to write Vek's Dr Doom cowering in the corner to the vast superiority of Elastic Man
I just wish Dartan's player were a munchkin, then we could REALLY see his potential! Are Dartan and Kizz REALLY the only core race PC's left? Maybe Oaken, but I'm not really sure WHAT he is...
Doc, we want more story! Throw in some HeroClix action if you want, we don't care! Just more story! (put in the part where your Medic blew away the rest of the Knights, feel free to write Vek's Dr Doom cowering in the corner to the vast superiority of Elastic Man
Dr Midnight
Explorer
Writing now... Should post an update before too long.
Big fun post coming up within but a few minutes!
Hmmm... well, when this campaign is done, soon, I won't have anything to write... HMMMMMMMMM...
Big fun post coming up within but a few minutes!
Dr Midnight
Explorer
Here on Oerth, beneath the skies, over the hills, amidst the trees
Every living creature cries, for all the ancient prophecies
Have told of how the dragon dies and what the fabled villain frees
The people fear the beast that lies and more the beast that bears the keys
The hours grow few and hope grows dim, yet evil’s blackened glist’ning hide
May still be pierced, for seraphim and bold and fearless heroes ride
To meet the charge of servants grim who hold the wizard’s captured guide
And there, in he, in only him may be the strength to turn the tide
Here on Oerth, on doomsday’s rim, where good and evil fought and died.
SESSION 54
4th of Suns’ebb
THE BASTION OF BROKEN SOULS
The Knights moved through the sparkling crystal trees in awe. Here, all about them, souls were formed and given shape. They had yet to be born, but their brilliance shone clearly. Some shone more brightly than others, but all had a chance to go into the world and make it a better- or worse- place.
“Through that white light we should find the dragon,” Nurn said. “We should go. There’s no telling if your friend Jamison has killed him and taken the heart back to Aameul.”
Kizz said “Didn’t you say that Aameul needs the descendant of Dydd to destroy the dragon?”
“Open your ears,” Nurn said rudely. “Crow is more powerful than he let on. He destroyed a group of demons even I wouldn’t attempt to fight. Maybe if you opened your eyes, too, you could have seen you were traveling with an evil mastermind.”
“Jamison, ONCE AND FOR ALL, is DEAD,” Kizzlorn yelled.
Vek nodded. “I scried on him, and he lies in his grave. You were probably fooled by an illusion spell of some sort.”
“Yes, probably,” Kizz agreed. “Open YOUR eyes, perhaps, and you would see.”
Nurn laughed. “Oh, a clever comeback from the witch queen. Very nice.”
“What did you call me?”
He looked into her eyes, growling. “The. Witch. Queen. You know, the one who should probably save up some of her food money and buy a hairbrush with it.”
Kizz fumed. Behind Nurn, Edge spoke slowly and quietly. “You would do well to take that back.”
Nurn turned to him. “Or what, imp? I should put up with the paltry tramp just because you have a schoolchild’s crush on her? Do you know what I could DO to you?”
“Enough,” Kizzlorn murmured with disgust. “Nurn, tell me. Once the dragon’s been destroyed, what will you do?”
“I will continue to act in my master’s best interests.”
“I think it’s important that we know if you will turn on us or not.”
“My plans, and my master’s plans, do not concern you beyond helping me to slay Ashardalon. That is enough for you to know.” He walked off.
Kizzlorn watched as he walked away, then had a very brief conversation with Vek, Dartan and Edge.
Broldek had found something. “Hey, look over here!” The others found him kneeling near a large skeletal corpse wearing armor. On the breastplate was the shining symbol of Pelor. In the skeleton’s hand was a sword with a luminous golden blade. Here in the metal was inscribed the legend: DRAGONHAMMER.
“Dragonhammer,” Broldek said as he picked the sword up. “The sword the kobold talked about... the one wielded by the orc cleric of Pelor.”
“Like I said,” Vek mused. “Another one of Pelor’s flock, doomed to die with his sword in his hand.”
Kizzlorn sighed. “Uncle Vek, my Aunt and brother are followers of Pelor. Please remember that when you refer to them as a ‘flock.’”
Broldek was testing the sword’s weight and balance. It was a greatsword, and well-suited to the troll’s large stature. “This sword hates dragons. Almost as much as I do. I believe it will help us in the fight.”
“Take it, then,” Vek said. “He won’t mind.”
They gathered at the wall of white light and made the final preparations to go through and face Ashardalon. The best warriors were at the front of the group, with Nurn at their head. Vek cast several spells over them all. “Are we ready?”
“We’re ready,” Nurn said irritably. “Let’s just get this done.”
“Well, then, by all means, Nurn… lead the way!” Vek grabbed Nurn’s left arm. Dartan, on cue, grabbed his right. Edge swept his legs out from behind him, and a shouting Nurn was tossed into the white light.
There was the sound of a person landing, and a grunt. The grunt turned to silence, and the silence turned to a scream as a great, deep growl was heard. Then, a smashing sound not unlike a side of beef being bashed against a castle wall, and wet splatterings. Purplish red blood splashed the ground at the Knights’ feet from beyond the wall of light, and all was silent again.
“I really hated him,” Kizzlorn said.
Vek nodded. “He’s dead now."
“He was going to turn on us. He was a demon.”
They walked through the wall of light.
Here, on the other side, was a supremely powerful creature- a brilliantly red dragon with a palpably demonic visage. On its chest was a rough red scar roughly in the shape of a large winged humanoid. The dragon wore an amulet around its neck- a piece of the Soul Totem. The terrible creature stood at least 60 feet tall, was nearly 40 feet wide, 80 feet long, and took up a little more than half of the available space here. It was situated at the far end of the room.
The space was over 100 feet in diameter, bounded by brilliant light. The crystalline ceiling was some 100 feet above. A flow of dimly glowing, wraithlike forms fell from the center of the ceiling like a waterfall. But the dragon, like a boulder in a stream, interrupted the flow. The falling soulstuff ran across the dragon’s hide like water. And, like water in a stoppered barrel, the material pooled to a depth of 2 feet, cover the entire floor in dimly gowing, whispering, naked life force.
More astonishing than the dragon, though, was the small figure leaning on its right side. Jamison Crow, dressed all in black was sucking the last glowing bits out of a crystal, much like a person would eat an apple. He tossed the dead crystal away and smiled at the Knights.
“Would you care for a soul?”
Ashardalon, above, growled in a way that sounded very much like chuckling.
MORE TO COME…
Every living creature cries, for all the ancient prophecies
Have told of how the dragon dies and what the fabled villain frees
The people fear the beast that lies and more the beast that bears the keys
The hours grow few and hope grows dim, yet evil’s blackened glist’ning hide
May still be pierced, for seraphim and bold and fearless heroes ride
To meet the charge of servants grim who hold the wizard’s captured guide
And there, in he, in only him may be the strength to turn the tide
Here on Oerth, on doomsday’s rim, where good and evil fought and died.
SESSION 54
4th of Suns’ebb
THE BASTION OF BROKEN SOULS
The Knights moved through the sparkling crystal trees in awe. Here, all about them, souls were formed and given shape. They had yet to be born, but their brilliance shone clearly. Some shone more brightly than others, but all had a chance to go into the world and make it a better- or worse- place.
“Through that white light we should find the dragon,” Nurn said. “We should go. There’s no telling if your friend Jamison has killed him and taken the heart back to Aameul.”
Kizz said “Didn’t you say that Aameul needs the descendant of Dydd to destroy the dragon?”
“Open your ears,” Nurn said rudely. “Crow is more powerful than he let on. He destroyed a group of demons even I wouldn’t attempt to fight. Maybe if you opened your eyes, too, you could have seen you were traveling with an evil mastermind.”
“Jamison, ONCE AND FOR ALL, is DEAD,” Kizzlorn yelled.
Vek nodded. “I scried on him, and he lies in his grave. You were probably fooled by an illusion spell of some sort.”
“Yes, probably,” Kizz agreed. “Open YOUR eyes, perhaps, and you would see.”
Nurn laughed. “Oh, a clever comeback from the witch queen. Very nice.”
“What did you call me?”
He looked into her eyes, growling. “The. Witch. Queen. You know, the one who should probably save up some of her food money and buy a hairbrush with it.”
Kizz fumed. Behind Nurn, Edge spoke slowly and quietly. “You would do well to take that back.”
Nurn turned to him. “Or what, imp? I should put up with the paltry tramp just because you have a schoolchild’s crush on her? Do you know what I could DO to you?”
“Enough,” Kizzlorn murmured with disgust. “Nurn, tell me. Once the dragon’s been destroyed, what will you do?”
“I will continue to act in my master’s best interests.”
“I think it’s important that we know if you will turn on us or not.”
“My plans, and my master’s plans, do not concern you beyond helping me to slay Ashardalon. That is enough for you to know.” He walked off.
Kizzlorn watched as he walked away, then had a very brief conversation with Vek, Dartan and Edge.
Broldek had found something. “Hey, look over here!” The others found him kneeling near a large skeletal corpse wearing armor. On the breastplate was the shining symbol of Pelor. In the skeleton’s hand was a sword with a luminous golden blade. Here in the metal was inscribed the legend: DRAGONHAMMER.
“Dragonhammer,” Broldek said as he picked the sword up. “The sword the kobold talked about... the one wielded by the orc cleric of Pelor.”
“Like I said,” Vek mused. “Another one of Pelor’s flock, doomed to die with his sword in his hand.”
Kizzlorn sighed. “Uncle Vek, my Aunt and brother are followers of Pelor. Please remember that when you refer to them as a ‘flock.’”
Broldek was testing the sword’s weight and balance. It was a greatsword, and well-suited to the troll’s large stature. “This sword hates dragons. Almost as much as I do. I believe it will help us in the fight.”
“Take it, then,” Vek said. “He won’t mind.”
They gathered at the wall of white light and made the final preparations to go through and face Ashardalon. The best warriors were at the front of the group, with Nurn at their head. Vek cast several spells over them all. “Are we ready?”
“We’re ready,” Nurn said irritably. “Let’s just get this done.”
“Well, then, by all means, Nurn… lead the way!” Vek grabbed Nurn’s left arm. Dartan, on cue, grabbed his right. Edge swept his legs out from behind him, and a shouting Nurn was tossed into the white light.
There was the sound of a person landing, and a grunt. The grunt turned to silence, and the silence turned to a scream as a great, deep growl was heard. Then, a smashing sound not unlike a side of beef being bashed against a castle wall, and wet splatterings. Purplish red blood splashed the ground at the Knights’ feet from beyond the wall of light, and all was silent again.
“I really hated him,” Kizzlorn said.
Vek nodded. “He’s dead now."
“He was going to turn on us. He was a demon.”
They walked through the wall of light.
Here, on the other side, was a supremely powerful creature- a brilliantly red dragon with a palpably demonic visage. On its chest was a rough red scar roughly in the shape of a large winged humanoid. The dragon wore an amulet around its neck- a piece of the Soul Totem. The terrible creature stood at least 60 feet tall, was nearly 40 feet wide, 80 feet long, and took up a little more than half of the available space here. It was situated at the far end of the room.
The space was over 100 feet in diameter, bounded by brilliant light. The crystalline ceiling was some 100 feet above. A flow of dimly glowing, wraithlike forms fell from the center of the ceiling like a waterfall. But the dragon, like a boulder in a stream, interrupted the flow. The falling soulstuff ran across the dragon’s hide like water. And, like water in a stoppered barrel, the material pooled to a depth of 2 feet, cover the entire floor in dimly gowing, whispering, naked life force.
More astonishing than the dragon, though, was the small figure leaning on its right side. Jamison Crow, dressed all in black was sucking the last glowing bits out of a crystal, much like a person would eat an apple. He tossed the dead crystal away and smiled at the Knights.
“Would you care for a soul?”
Ashardalon, above, growled in a way that sounded very much like chuckling.
MORE TO COME…
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