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The Age of Worms - Morrus' Campaign - Finished 6th August!!
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<blockquote data-quote="Eccles" data-source="post: 3821462" data-attributes="member: 5675"><p>Janga’s teleport spell deposited us instantly in Endo’s luxurious suite, near the attractive tinkling of the jasmine-scented fountain. We spent a short while discussing what we needed to do, and generally agreed that in order to meet Lashonna, we would need an invitation to the celebration being hosted by Prince Zeech. Having reached this conclusion, we retired for a night’s rest.</p><p></p><p></p><p>.oOo.</p><p></p><p>The next day, I spent a little while in a number of temple libraries reading up on the Prince and the history of the city, before heading back onto the streets startling people with a series of slightly unusual questions.</p><p></p><p>“Excuse me,” I asked them. “Could you tell me where I can hire an orchestra?”</p><p></p><p>Following a particularly promising lead, I headed across town. En route, I passed through the marketplace where I couldn’t help but notice 3 bruised and bedraggled figures standing on a scaffold. A tall man wearing Hextorite robes cried out in a shrill voice,</p><p></p><p>“By the grace of his most beautiful majesty Prince Zeech, I hereby condemn these three most low traitors to be hanged.”</p><p></p><p>As he kicked at the lever and the three prisoners fell kicking to their deaths, there came a tremendous cry from the crowd.</p><p></p><p>“DEATH TO THE EBON TRIAD!”</p><p></p><p>I grinned as I walked away. Finally an aspect to politics I felt I could agree with…</p><p></p><p>.oOo.</p><p></p><p>The next couple of days were extremely busy. I remained locked in my suite at the DeLuxury, scrawling ideas and notes on sheet after sheet of parchment. Eventually, covered in ink smudges, exhausted, and full to the gills with caffeine and wine, I staggered into the morning light and arranged to have my new opera printed and bound into one hundred neat leather-backed books of music. </p><p></p><p>After a couple of hours sleep, I spent the remainder of the second day feverishly rehearsing the music with the town’s best orchestral group (who had been persuaded <em>en masse</em> to walk out of their booking that evening with a healthy thousand gold piece bribe). We played the piece over and over again until I was satisfied, before heading to the appointed place – the park in the centre of the city which my comrades had been working on as I was rehearsing.</p><p></p><p>The thousands of gold pieces which they had been spending to arrange a tremendous party at short notice had been well placed. A vast marquee stood to one side of the green, and hundreds of the citizens had already turned up sitting on blankets picnicking and chatting in the evening’s light. </p><p></p><p>Over the next hour, as the general public were entertained by superb dancers and acrobats which Flynne had managed to find and hire, more and more of the town’s nobility (invited from a list compiled by Endo with the help of the DeLuxury’s manager) flooded into the marquee where a banquet had been laid on. </p><p></p><p>Fez appeared to have had a talent for putting on a good spread, and there was a wide and generous selection of food and wine on offer for the invited guests. Although the little savage had managed to offer a vast array of food, there was a very heavy reliance on haunches of rare meats and a liquor called ‘nimby’. </p><p></p><p>Before the music began (and as a pair of fire-breathers waltzed through the crowd sending huge sheets of magically coloured flame skywards where a hired wizard twisted it into shapes and creations from myth), I moved through the tent making introductions and smiling broadly at our many guests. Although Lashonna and Prince Zeech had not come to our ‘little soirée’ (as I kept calling it), the Prince’s misshapen (and clearly half fiendish) daughter Hemriss had seen fit to grace us with her twisted face. </p><p></p><p>Other notables included Hoff, a fat and foul-mouthed dwarf who shouldered his way to the buffet where he seemed to try not to offend Lord Malkavian Killraven, a tall iron-haired man whose right-hand had been replaced with a hook in the course of his duties as Captain of the West Border Watch. </p><p></p><p>A short distance from this awkward pair, a flamboyant and enthusiastic conversation was taking place; the flame-haired and mischievous-looking Mahordil was clearly teasing a gleeful and exuberantly-dressed Professor Marat, the owner of the Emporium from the Diamond Lake. The two were watched by a nervous-looking Halfling woman who introduced herself to me as Miscen Witchwillow, merchant and spellcaster. </p><p></p><p>On the other side of the tent, Mariss Quemp stood chatting with a couple of merchants. I recognised him from a description given to me whilst I was touring the town in earlier days, and his finely dressed rich clothing could not disguise the half-orc ancestry somewhere in his background. He had made his reputation as an adventurer in this tough bandit country, and was clearly a man to be respected. </p><p></p><p>Another demi-human standing out in the tent was Shag Solomon, a charming yet clawed quaggoth, who was stooped to talk with the leader of the Northern Rangers, the dark skinned Captain Vulrass and Armhim, the owner of the DeLuxury. Janga was engaged in an intriguing conversation with Toriss, gnome from an outlying province who was the only person from the outlying areas who had been invited to the Prince’s banquet. The gnome seemed to be mooning after my clerical companion, following him around the marquee and offering him a large gemstone. Curious, but not wishing to get embroiled in this gnomish matter, I left the two alone.</p><p></p><p>.oOo.</p><p></p><p>The performance went off flawlessly. I employed every trick in my performing arsenal, to the point of binding several audience members to my will and transforming them from reluctant attendees to a standing ovation. I made the most of my recently developed ability to trigger spells without breaking my musical concentration, and had deliberately written a number of sequences within the music for myself. At one stage I managed to perform an apparent duet with myself for a few moments by casting an illusion and stepping away to reappear, still playing, from behind the harpist. </p><p></p><p>The music was interspersed with magical blasts of sound and visual accompaniment, and at the end, as I triggered a <em>haste</em> spell to play an otherwise impossibly fast allegro section of the composition, the audience rose as one for a standing ovation which lasted long after the orchestra and I had finished playing. Flowers were thrown, and at the end, as I returned to the marquee flushed with success, I was confronted by Armhin, manager of the DeLuxury with a handful of expensive gilt-edged invitations. </p><p></p><p>“I believe,” he announced to my comrades and I, “that Prince Zeech will hear of what you have done today, and will find you all to be suitably entertaining dinner guests.”</p><p></p><p>We were in. I gathered up the bound copies of my music proudly, and we retired for the night to consider our next move. </p><p></p><p>.oOo.</p><p></p><p>Flush with success, we began to plan for our next social engagement – the party of Prince Zeech. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of gold and platinum pieces changed hands in exchange for fantastic costumes and jewellery. A cast off comment from one of the tailors I had summoned to my suite at the DeLuxury sent all of us scurrying for shops, enchanters or tools to craft a suitably generous gift for his highness when we visited him 4 days later. </p><p></p><p>Much of my next few days were therefore spent cloistered away in the comfortable suite I had won at the DeLuxury, whilst the others began to spend their nights in a magical suite of extra-dimensional rooms summoned up by Endo.</p><p></p><p>I spent my time layering spell after musical spell into a small harp, whose body was carved at great expense into a grotesque series of lithe attractive and sometimes alien bodies fighting or copulating, which I had learned was likely to appeal to the prince. </p><p></p><p>Whilst I was busy, my comrades were out exploring the city, and I later learned had come into conflict with a martial pair of hobgoblins, leaders of the ‘Knights of Redhand’, champion outriders to Prince Zeech. Tiny Fez had managed to get himself dragged into a challenge of prowess. I learned from Flynne later that the tiny savage had found himself leaping from one rooftop to another over a forest of spears held by the hobgoblin’s many followers to dissuade them both from falling. </p><p></p><p>Flynne told me that whilst Fez had leapt boldly and cleanly, the far taller hobgoblin had bested him by a matter of inches. With the question of hobgoblin superiority apparently satisfied, the two warriors had then invited my comrades to a lengthy afternoon’s drinking.</p><p></p><p>.oOo.</p><p></p><p>Over the following few days, several thousands more were spent on upgrading our outfits. Fez went beserk on jewellery and ornamentation, and Flynne’s usually stealthy profile was coated in a glittering shimmering layer of gold and diamonds. </p><p></p><p>Clutching gifts and dressed to the nines, we were ready on the evening of the fourth day when a decadent ornamented carriage pulled by four besuited trolls rolled to a graceful stop outside the DeLuxury. Bearing our gifts, we clambered inside and rolled away through the city streets to the red-stone wall surrounding the palace. Gliding through, we chatted whilst sipping wine from a crystal decanter within the gilded carriage.</p><p></p><p>The palace itself was a massive sweeping building of several hudred rooms. Continually expanding wings in a dozen styles showed the Prince’s impulsive and grandiose decisions. The named gardens were filled with costly orchids, whilst from the centre of the palace rose a huge bronze and glass pagoda-like affair.</p><p></p><p>My friends and I, and the other guests, gathered in the ‘Vertiginous Terrace’. Peering around we could see that there was no sign of Lashonna yet. One of the gold-weapon armed guardsmen told me that the Prince would be there shortly, and so in the interim I enjoyed the company, chatted to other guests and sampled the foodstuffs offered by the dozens of servants who flitted around ensuring that no glass went unfilled.</p><p></p><p>After a while, we made our way up towards the promontory of the Vertiginous Terrace, heading up a white stone pathway between dozens of bleached skeletons whose chests held burning braziers to light our way in the evening light. At the top, we could see a 200 foot drop to the city below, with lights blinking into effect mimicking the stars of the early evening sky above. </p><p></p><p>Once again, I saw Janga speaking to the other gnome, who was dressed in his flowery best. He clutched a pomade to his chest as once again I saw him persue the cleric (who was not, this evening, dressed in his heavy armour), proffering the same expensive dark pearl. </p><p></p><p>We all chatted to others at the party; Flynne spoke to the hobgoblin mercenary they had met previously, and Endo talked to the bejewelled form of Mahordril. Whilst Fez chatted amiably with the only other Halfling in the group, and who was apparently not put off by his pointed and filed teeth. I spoke tentatively with Hemriss, the Prince’s daughter about her task of policing the city. </p><p></p><p>Some 20 minutes later, Prince Zeech himself arrived amidst a tremendous fanfare. A handsome man in his early 40s but looking younger, he was resplendent in the most cutting edge of clothing. He was accompanied by an incredibly short man some two and a half feet tall wearing crimson leather armour. This figure had a mummified raven attached to his shoulder and wore a strange three pointed hat bedecked by ribbons. </p><p></p><p>Hemriss explained to my curious look that this was the ‘Ominous Fabler’, the Prince’s servant, fool and advisor.</p><p></p><p>The two were flanked by several truly deformed servants. One was missing his legs and lower torso and walked everywhere on his hands. Another somehow had his face in his stomach, and a third had a small extra arm protruding from beneath his left shoulder. </p><p></p><p>A horn was blown from somewhere far overhead, and the Ominous Fabler spoke.</p><p></p><p>“My lords, ladies, gentlemen and other invited guests, Prince Zeech bids you welcome to his home. He will now receive your gifts.”</p><p></p><p>Taking turns, each of us advanced a few paces to kneel on one leg before the ruling magnate with the gift held in outstretched arms. We were not to speak until addressed by the Prince.</p><p></p><p>P’Kruss, the hobgoblin my comrades had met earlier in the week went first, kneeling with a glittering horseshoe in his outstretched hands. I was fairly convinced that the thing was a cheap thing gilded and coated with gemstones to look near-priceless, but the Prince obviously didn’t see it the same way. He broke into a broad grin and gestured the warrior into the garden.</p><p></p><p>In turn, each of us passed our gifts. Taking my turn early, I knelt in front of the monarch with the enchanted harp in my left hand, the strings thrumming with musical potency, each charged with part of the music of my recent composition. In my right hand, I held a lit torch which hovered over all of the expensively bound copies of my work. When he looked at me curiously and gestured that I should speak, I explained.</p><p></p><p>“Your glorious majesty, this harp is enchanted to play that work which I penned in your honour, a tale of your glories which so recently was played to your people. You have but to say the word, and I shall set these copies alight, so that the harp will remain; the only record of my works, and you alone shall be able to play the musics at your whim.”</p><p></p><p>Smiling somewhat cruelly at me, the Prince nodded, and I suppressed a look of pain as I allowed the torch to fall onto the leather-bound books of music. Besides; I could always write it better next time. </p><p></p><p>“It is a shame,” began the Prince, “that I was unable to attend the concert. I hear that it was well received by my citizens. I bid you enter and enjoy yourself, and I shall speak more with you later.”</p><p></p><p>Bowing, I moved further into the garden, and watched as Janga presented the Prince with an extremely graceful horse which had been trained to leap over extremely tall obstacles. The Prince looked at it, and then at a second jet black stallion which was being led by servants for another guest. Pausing for a while, he nodded, and I could see Janga sag slightly with relief. </p><p></p><p>Fez approached the monarch next. The little savage stumbled on his unfamiliar outfit and offered a large dark leather saddle, which I could see had been enchanted to conceal several exceedingly deep pockets to entertain the Prince when he was hunting. </p><p></p><p>“It doesn’t fit my horse”, yelled the Prince – almost incandescent with anger an instant after looking pleased at my gift. He gestured curtly to Fez to step back, and whispered something in the Fabler’s ear. The tiny man wrote a few notes, and then the Prince beckoned to Flynne. </p><p></p><p>My elven comrade had also heard of the Prince’s love of hunting and had somehow managed to lay his hands on a pair of skeletal enchanted hunting hounds which seemed to curb the Prince’s ire somewhat. He stared at them for a while, before simply saying “Hmmm… Thank you. Next!”</p><p></p><p>Flynne stepped sharply away and left space for Endo, who flourished a magical bag of holding as he spoke.</p><p></p><p>“For one who is master of life and death, I grant to thee this pale semblance of life.”</p><p></p><p>As he spoke, he dropped the bag to the floor, and I saw it twitch. Bursting from the bag came a skeletal face, on the end of a writhing naga skeleton. Endo had apparently raised the creature from death himself, and had clearly spent many hours carving each of its many hundreds of bones with intricate runes and pictures, and the whole thing was a grotesque yet strangely artistic masterpiece.</p><p></p><p>The Prince didn’t see it that way, and was clearly not prepared for the thing emerging so suddenly from the bag. He yelled in alarm and leapt back, imitated with uncanny precision by the Ominous Fabler, who leered mockingly at Endo as a pair of tall winged guardians materialised, swords drawn, between Endo and the undead naga. There was a moment’s still silence before the Fabler whispered “you’d better scurry somewhere out of sight”, and Endo nodded nervously as he stepped sharply away.</p><p></p><p>Comparatively there was little controversy with the gifts from the rest of the guests, and we soon found ourselves being seated on a number of chairs produced by the malformed serving staff. With a burst of the horn, the Ominous Fabler stepped forwards to address us once again. </p><p></p><p>“My masters, I present to you the Harlequinade Mortifacio, a piece which I have penned myself in honour of our glorious ruler.”</p><p></p><p>With a flourish, he called on the first of the ‘actors’. A series of skeletal performers clattered onto the stage, each performing ‘japes’ such as drinking wine to allow the liquid to tip through their bodies to spatter the floor beneath. In silence, each of the actors was put through its paces in displaying the dreadful manner of its own death. It swiftly became apparent that these performers had, in life, been actors themselves who had somehow displeased Prince Zeech, and it was his choice of torture and execution that they were displaying to us. </p><p></p><p>Whilst we watched in barely disguised horror, we were served with sparkling wine and lightly flavoured almond biscuits. At one stage, Flynne caught my eye and nodded over to the heap of incredibly expensive gifts, and I could see that the Fabler was looking closely at the horseshoe, with a jeweller’s eyeglass screwed into one of his eyes and his notebook open. </p><p></p><p>.oOo.</p><p></p><p>Once the performance had come to an end, we spent a little while talking amongst ourselves. During this time, I learned that the other Halfling, Misczen, was interested in Fez’s history, but that despite claiming to be a merchant, she seemed to know relatively little about her supposed wares. I took some pleasure in introducing her to Mahordril, who I’d learned was the head of the local Merchant’s Guild. </p><p></p><p>My amusement was interrupted by the blowing of another horn, and the Fabler led us across the grounds whilst walking expertly on stilts and singing an unpleasant ditty about boiling sparrows. He led us to the ‘Balcony of Expectorance’ where he leapt onto a railing several hundred feet above a sheer drop to the city below. </p><p></p><p>“Welcome,” he called to us all, “to the Handsome Slaughter of Curious Avians.” </p><p></p><p>Saying this, he gestured to the surroundings, and I took in dozens of cages and a rack of repeating crossbows. </p><p></p><p>“Make ready to,” he began but the Prince interrupted him with a slap which almost sent him tumbling the hundreds of feet to the city below. Zeech took up a particularly well made crossbow and announcing “I feel lucky. Anyone who can meet my score shall be given a thousand crowns.”</p><p></p><p>Saying this, he turned and the first of the cages was opened. A series of colourful flashes burst forth amongst the wingbeats of some gloriously plumed coralax birds, which flew away letting off bursts of vibrant colour as they went. The prince’s enchanted crossbow sang, and he slapped a second clip in with expert speed. When he had finished firing, six of the birds had fallen from the sky, and there was a ripple of politely impressed applause from his guests. </p><p></p><p>Each of us took our turn, and although we all expected Flynne to come closest to the Prince’s score, we were thwarted by the unfamiliarity of the repeating crossbow and the difficulty of hitting such small targets at such a great distance. The elf hit only two targets, but did manage to fire off 8 shots, and whilst his score was exceeded by Fez shooting three of the birds. Most surprising of all was Endo’s leaning on a familiar looking rod and picking off one of the birds with a perfect headshot. I squinted at him through my <em>Clair de Lunettes</em>, and could see the distinctive flashes of magic before his next two perfect headshots, bit he missed with the last two shots he fired (presumably when he ran out of spells he had prepared).</p><p></p><p>During the time we were not shooting, we were fed with honey-roast Coralax and spiced wine. I passed the time speaking to Captain Killraven, who was clearly an immensely loyal man – his loyalty was to the city rather than necessarily to Zeech. I was doing my utmost to charm the man but had to make my excuses and leave when I noticed Fez had spilled the drink of the brusque and unpleasant dwarf and the two were practically squaring off for a fight under the watchful eye of an amused Ominous Fabler. </p><p></p><p>.oOo.</p><p></p><p>The Fabler, walking on his hands, then led us through part of the palace, through what I could only describe as a maze into part of the basement. There, we were shown a small arena in which there were two large and two smaller crates. Producing a pair of silver rings, the twisted dwarf announced the rules of this latest perverse entertainment. </p><p></p><p>“Those wearing these rings will control the creatures in the large crates and can direct their actions. If you can create more ornaments than the Prince and escape his wrath, you shall win a tremendous prize.”</p><p></p><p>Endo shot to his feet, and was quick to slip the ring onto his finger. Once everything was ready, the two large crates were opened to reveal two large cockatrices, and whilst the rest of us were handed exotic and delicately flavoured eggs, we were entertained by Endo’s efforts to petrify more cats (released from the smaller crates) than the Prince. He was, ultimately, unsuccessful, but when his cockatrice was then engaged in full-on fight with the Prince’s, his bird landed a number of telling blows which led him to a narrow victory, and was rewarded with a large silver egg for his troubles. </p><p></p><p>.oOo.</p><p></p><p>We were then led to a long narrow garden lit by braziers fashioned from human skulls. A low mound of dyed skulls lay to one side, and we were spoken to once again by the Fabler.</p><p></p><p>“Allow me to present you to Jack,” said the Fabler as he produced a black-coloured skull. “Jack was an unfortunate criminal whose lot has been more successful in death than it ever was in life, as now he can at least provide an amusement for his Prince. In this competition, the Prince will throw Jack, and each of you shall throw your own poor unfortunate. Whoever manages to land the closest shall win the Prince’s challenge.”</p><p></p><p>Between bites of delicately flavoured (and headless) gingerbread men, we threw our skulls after the Prince’s. Although my throw was remarkably close, I was beaten by a very close throw by Misczen the Halfling. After she had collected her prize, a gong was sounded, and we all headed into the body of the palace for dinner.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Eccles, post: 3821462, member: 5675"] Janga’s teleport spell deposited us instantly in Endo’s luxurious suite, near the attractive tinkling of the jasmine-scented fountain. We spent a short while discussing what we needed to do, and generally agreed that in order to meet Lashonna, we would need an invitation to the celebration being hosted by Prince Zeech. Having reached this conclusion, we retired for a night’s rest. .oOo. The next day, I spent a little while in a number of temple libraries reading up on the Prince and the history of the city, before heading back onto the streets startling people with a series of slightly unusual questions. “Excuse me,” I asked them. “Could you tell me where I can hire an orchestra?” Following a particularly promising lead, I headed across town. En route, I passed through the marketplace where I couldn’t help but notice 3 bruised and bedraggled figures standing on a scaffold. A tall man wearing Hextorite robes cried out in a shrill voice, “By the grace of his most beautiful majesty Prince Zeech, I hereby condemn these three most low traitors to be hanged.” As he kicked at the lever and the three prisoners fell kicking to their deaths, there came a tremendous cry from the crowd. “DEATH TO THE EBON TRIAD!” I grinned as I walked away. Finally an aspect to politics I felt I could agree with… .oOo. The next couple of days were extremely busy. I remained locked in my suite at the DeLuxury, scrawling ideas and notes on sheet after sheet of parchment. Eventually, covered in ink smudges, exhausted, and full to the gills with caffeine and wine, I staggered into the morning light and arranged to have my new opera printed and bound into one hundred neat leather-backed books of music. After a couple of hours sleep, I spent the remainder of the second day feverishly rehearsing the music with the town’s best orchestral group (who had been persuaded [i]en masse[/i] to walk out of their booking that evening with a healthy thousand gold piece bribe). We played the piece over and over again until I was satisfied, before heading to the appointed place – the park in the centre of the city which my comrades had been working on as I was rehearsing. The thousands of gold pieces which they had been spending to arrange a tremendous party at short notice had been well placed. A vast marquee stood to one side of the green, and hundreds of the citizens had already turned up sitting on blankets picnicking and chatting in the evening’s light. Over the next hour, as the general public were entertained by superb dancers and acrobats which Flynne had managed to find and hire, more and more of the town’s nobility (invited from a list compiled by Endo with the help of the DeLuxury’s manager) flooded into the marquee where a banquet had been laid on. Fez appeared to have had a talent for putting on a good spread, and there was a wide and generous selection of food and wine on offer for the invited guests. Although the little savage had managed to offer a vast array of food, there was a very heavy reliance on haunches of rare meats and a liquor called ‘nimby’. Before the music began (and as a pair of fire-breathers waltzed through the crowd sending huge sheets of magically coloured flame skywards where a hired wizard twisted it into shapes and creations from myth), I moved through the tent making introductions and smiling broadly at our many guests. Although Lashonna and Prince Zeech had not come to our ‘little soirée’ (as I kept calling it), the Prince’s misshapen (and clearly half fiendish) daughter Hemriss had seen fit to grace us with her twisted face. Other notables included Hoff, a fat and foul-mouthed dwarf who shouldered his way to the buffet where he seemed to try not to offend Lord Malkavian Killraven, a tall iron-haired man whose right-hand had been replaced with a hook in the course of his duties as Captain of the West Border Watch. A short distance from this awkward pair, a flamboyant and enthusiastic conversation was taking place; the flame-haired and mischievous-looking Mahordil was clearly teasing a gleeful and exuberantly-dressed Professor Marat, the owner of the Emporium from the Diamond Lake. The two were watched by a nervous-looking Halfling woman who introduced herself to me as Miscen Witchwillow, merchant and spellcaster. On the other side of the tent, Mariss Quemp stood chatting with a couple of merchants. I recognised him from a description given to me whilst I was touring the town in earlier days, and his finely dressed rich clothing could not disguise the half-orc ancestry somewhere in his background. He had made his reputation as an adventurer in this tough bandit country, and was clearly a man to be respected. Another demi-human standing out in the tent was Shag Solomon, a charming yet clawed quaggoth, who was stooped to talk with the leader of the Northern Rangers, the dark skinned Captain Vulrass and Armhim, the owner of the DeLuxury. Janga was engaged in an intriguing conversation with Toriss, gnome from an outlying province who was the only person from the outlying areas who had been invited to the Prince’s banquet. The gnome seemed to be mooning after my clerical companion, following him around the marquee and offering him a large gemstone. Curious, but not wishing to get embroiled in this gnomish matter, I left the two alone. .oOo. The performance went off flawlessly. I employed every trick in my performing arsenal, to the point of binding several audience members to my will and transforming them from reluctant attendees to a standing ovation. I made the most of my recently developed ability to trigger spells without breaking my musical concentration, and had deliberately written a number of sequences within the music for myself. At one stage I managed to perform an apparent duet with myself for a few moments by casting an illusion and stepping away to reappear, still playing, from behind the harpist. The music was interspersed with magical blasts of sound and visual accompaniment, and at the end, as I triggered a [i]haste[/i] spell to play an otherwise impossibly fast allegro section of the composition, the audience rose as one for a standing ovation which lasted long after the orchestra and I had finished playing. Flowers were thrown, and at the end, as I returned to the marquee flushed with success, I was confronted by Armhin, manager of the DeLuxury with a handful of expensive gilt-edged invitations. “I believe,” he announced to my comrades and I, “that Prince Zeech will hear of what you have done today, and will find you all to be suitably entertaining dinner guests.” We were in. I gathered up the bound copies of my music proudly, and we retired for the night to consider our next move. .oOo. Flush with success, we began to plan for our next social engagement – the party of Prince Zeech. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of gold and platinum pieces changed hands in exchange for fantastic costumes and jewellery. A cast off comment from one of the tailors I had summoned to my suite at the DeLuxury sent all of us scurrying for shops, enchanters or tools to craft a suitably generous gift for his highness when we visited him 4 days later. Much of my next few days were therefore spent cloistered away in the comfortable suite I had won at the DeLuxury, whilst the others began to spend their nights in a magical suite of extra-dimensional rooms summoned up by Endo. I spent my time layering spell after musical spell into a small harp, whose body was carved at great expense into a grotesque series of lithe attractive and sometimes alien bodies fighting or copulating, which I had learned was likely to appeal to the prince. Whilst I was busy, my comrades were out exploring the city, and I later learned had come into conflict with a martial pair of hobgoblins, leaders of the ‘Knights of Redhand’, champion outriders to Prince Zeech. Tiny Fez had managed to get himself dragged into a challenge of prowess. I learned from Flynne later that the tiny savage had found himself leaping from one rooftop to another over a forest of spears held by the hobgoblin’s many followers to dissuade them both from falling. Flynne told me that whilst Fez had leapt boldly and cleanly, the far taller hobgoblin had bested him by a matter of inches. With the question of hobgoblin superiority apparently satisfied, the two warriors had then invited my comrades to a lengthy afternoon’s drinking. .oOo. Over the following few days, several thousands more were spent on upgrading our outfits. Fez went beserk on jewellery and ornamentation, and Flynne’s usually stealthy profile was coated in a glittering shimmering layer of gold and diamonds. Clutching gifts and dressed to the nines, we were ready on the evening of the fourth day when a decadent ornamented carriage pulled by four besuited trolls rolled to a graceful stop outside the DeLuxury. Bearing our gifts, we clambered inside and rolled away through the city streets to the red-stone wall surrounding the palace. Gliding through, we chatted whilst sipping wine from a crystal decanter within the gilded carriage. The palace itself was a massive sweeping building of several hudred rooms. Continually expanding wings in a dozen styles showed the Prince’s impulsive and grandiose decisions. The named gardens were filled with costly orchids, whilst from the centre of the palace rose a huge bronze and glass pagoda-like affair. My friends and I, and the other guests, gathered in the ‘Vertiginous Terrace’. Peering around we could see that there was no sign of Lashonna yet. One of the gold-weapon armed guardsmen told me that the Prince would be there shortly, and so in the interim I enjoyed the company, chatted to other guests and sampled the foodstuffs offered by the dozens of servants who flitted around ensuring that no glass went unfilled. After a while, we made our way up towards the promontory of the Vertiginous Terrace, heading up a white stone pathway between dozens of bleached skeletons whose chests held burning braziers to light our way in the evening light. At the top, we could see a 200 foot drop to the city below, with lights blinking into effect mimicking the stars of the early evening sky above. Once again, I saw Janga speaking to the other gnome, who was dressed in his flowery best. He clutched a pomade to his chest as once again I saw him persue the cleric (who was not, this evening, dressed in his heavy armour), proffering the same expensive dark pearl. We all chatted to others at the party; Flynne spoke to the hobgoblin mercenary they had met previously, and Endo talked to the bejewelled form of Mahordril. Whilst Fez chatted amiably with the only other Halfling in the group, and who was apparently not put off by his pointed and filed teeth. I spoke tentatively with Hemriss, the Prince’s daughter about her task of policing the city. Some 20 minutes later, Prince Zeech himself arrived amidst a tremendous fanfare. A handsome man in his early 40s but looking younger, he was resplendent in the most cutting edge of clothing. He was accompanied by an incredibly short man some two and a half feet tall wearing crimson leather armour. This figure had a mummified raven attached to his shoulder and wore a strange three pointed hat bedecked by ribbons. Hemriss explained to my curious look that this was the ‘Ominous Fabler’, the Prince’s servant, fool and advisor. The two were flanked by several truly deformed servants. One was missing his legs and lower torso and walked everywhere on his hands. Another somehow had his face in his stomach, and a third had a small extra arm protruding from beneath his left shoulder. A horn was blown from somewhere far overhead, and the Ominous Fabler spoke. “My lords, ladies, gentlemen and other invited guests, Prince Zeech bids you welcome to his home. He will now receive your gifts.” Taking turns, each of us advanced a few paces to kneel on one leg before the ruling magnate with the gift held in outstretched arms. We were not to speak until addressed by the Prince. P’Kruss, the hobgoblin my comrades had met earlier in the week went first, kneeling with a glittering horseshoe in his outstretched hands. I was fairly convinced that the thing was a cheap thing gilded and coated with gemstones to look near-priceless, but the Prince obviously didn’t see it the same way. He broke into a broad grin and gestured the warrior into the garden. In turn, each of us passed our gifts. Taking my turn early, I knelt in front of the monarch with the enchanted harp in my left hand, the strings thrumming with musical potency, each charged with part of the music of my recent composition. In my right hand, I held a lit torch which hovered over all of the expensively bound copies of my work. When he looked at me curiously and gestured that I should speak, I explained. “Your glorious majesty, this harp is enchanted to play that work which I penned in your honour, a tale of your glories which so recently was played to your people. You have but to say the word, and I shall set these copies alight, so that the harp will remain; the only record of my works, and you alone shall be able to play the musics at your whim.” Smiling somewhat cruelly at me, the Prince nodded, and I suppressed a look of pain as I allowed the torch to fall onto the leather-bound books of music. Besides; I could always write it better next time. “It is a shame,” began the Prince, “that I was unable to attend the concert. I hear that it was well received by my citizens. I bid you enter and enjoy yourself, and I shall speak more with you later.” Bowing, I moved further into the garden, and watched as Janga presented the Prince with an extremely graceful horse which had been trained to leap over extremely tall obstacles. The Prince looked at it, and then at a second jet black stallion which was being led by servants for another guest. Pausing for a while, he nodded, and I could see Janga sag slightly with relief. Fez approached the monarch next. The little savage stumbled on his unfamiliar outfit and offered a large dark leather saddle, which I could see had been enchanted to conceal several exceedingly deep pockets to entertain the Prince when he was hunting. “It doesn’t fit my horse”, yelled the Prince – almost incandescent with anger an instant after looking pleased at my gift. He gestured curtly to Fez to step back, and whispered something in the Fabler’s ear. The tiny man wrote a few notes, and then the Prince beckoned to Flynne. My elven comrade had also heard of the Prince’s love of hunting and had somehow managed to lay his hands on a pair of skeletal enchanted hunting hounds which seemed to curb the Prince’s ire somewhat. He stared at them for a while, before simply saying “Hmmm… Thank you. Next!” Flynne stepped sharply away and left space for Endo, who flourished a magical bag of holding as he spoke. “For one who is master of life and death, I grant to thee this pale semblance of life.” As he spoke, he dropped the bag to the floor, and I saw it twitch. Bursting from the bag came a skeletal face, on the end of a writhing naga skeleton. Endo had apparently raised the creature from death himself, and had clearly spent many hours carving each of its many hundreds of bones with intricate runes and pictures, and the whole thing was a grotesque yet strangely artistic masterpiece. The Prince didn’t see it that way, and was clearly not prepared for the thing emerging so suddenly from the bag. He yelled in alarm and leapt back, imitated with uncanny precision by the Ominous Fabler, who leered mockingly at Endo as a pair of tall winged guardians materialised, swords drawn, between Endo and the undead naga. There was a moment’s still silence before the Fabler whispered “you’d better scurry somewhere out of sight”, and Endo nodded nervously as he stepped sharply away. Comparatively there was little controversy with the gifts from the rest of the guests, and we soon found ourselves being seated on a number of chairs produced by the malformed serving staff. With a burst of the horn, the Ominous Fabler stepped forwards to address us once again. “My masters, I present to you the Harlequinade Mortifacio, a piece which I have penned myself in honour of our glorious ruler.” With a flourish, he called on the first of the ‘actors’. A series of skeletal performers clattered onto the stage, each performing ‘japes’ such as drinking wine to allow the liquid to tip through their bodies to spatter the floor beneath. In silence, each of the actors was put through its paces in displaying the dreadful manner of its own death. It swiftly became apparent that these performers had, in life, been actors themselves who had somehow displeased Prince Zeech, and it was his choice of torture and execution that they were displaying to us. Whilst we watched in barely disguised horror, we were served with sparkling wine and lightly flavoured almond biscuits. At one stage, Flynne caught my eye and nodded over to the heap of incredibly expensive gifts, and I could see that the Fabler was looking closely at the horseshoe, with a jeweller’s eyeglass screwed into one of his eyes and his notebook open. .oOo. Once the performance had come to an end, we spent a little while talking amongst ourselves. During this time, I learned that the other Halfling, Misczen, was interested in Fez’s history, but that despite claiming to be a merchant, she seemed to know relatively little about her supposed wares. I took some pleasure in introducing her to Mahordril, who I’d learned was the head of the local Merchant’s Guild. My amusement was interrupted by the blowing of another horn, and the Fabler led us across the grounds whilst walking expertly on stilts and singing an unpleasant ditty about boiling sparrows. He led us to the ‘Balcony of Expectorance’ where he leapt onto a railing several hundred feet above a sheer drop to the city below. “Welcome,” he called to us all, “to the Handsome Slaughter of Curious Avians.” Saying this, he gestured to the surroundings, and I took in dozens of cages and a rack of repeating crossbows. “Make ready to,” he began but the Prince interrupted him with a slap which almost sent him tumbling the hundreds of feet to the city below. Zeech took up a particularly well made crossbow and announcing “I feel lucky. Anyone who can meet my score shall be given a thousand crowns.” Saying this, he turned and the first of the cages was opened. A series of colourful flashes burst forth amongst the wingbeats of some gloriously plumed coralax birds, which flew away letting off bursts of vibrant colour as they went. The prince’s enchanted crossbow sang, and he slapped a second clip in with expert speed. When he had finished firing, six of the birds had fallen from the sky, and there was a ripple of politely impressed applause from his guests. Each of us took our turn, and although we all expected Flynne to come closest to the Prince’s score, we were thwarted by the unfamiliarity of the repeating crossbow and the difficulty of hitting such small targets at such a great distance. The elf hit only two targets, but did manage to fire off 8 shots, and whilst his score was exceeded by Fez shooting three of the birds. Most surprising of all was Endo’s leaning on a familiar looking rod and picking off one of the birds with a perfect headshot. I squinted at him through my [i]Clair de Lunettes[/i], and could see the distinctive flashes of magic before his next two perfect headshots, bit he missed with the last two shots he fired (presumably when he ran out of spells he had prepared). During the time we were not shooting, we were fed with honey-roast Coralax and spiced wine. I passed the time speaking to Captain Killraven, who was clearly an immensely loyal man – his loyalty was to the city rather than necessarily to Zeech. I was doing my utmost to charm the man but had to make my excuses and leave when I noticed Fez had spilled the drink of the brusque and unpleasant dwarf and the two were practically squaring off for a fight under the watchful eye of an amused Ominous Fabler. .oOo. The Fabler, walking on his hands, then led us through part of the palace, through what I could only describe as a maze into part of the basement. There, we were shown a small arena in which there were two large and two smaller crates. Producing a pair of silver rings, the twisted dwarf announced the rules of this latest perverse entertainment. “Those wearing these rings will control the creatures in the large crates and can direct their actions. If you can create more ornaments than the Prince and escape his wrath, you shall win a tremendous prize.” Endo shot to his feet, and was quick to slip the ring onto his finger. Once everything was ready, the two large crates were opened to reveal two large cockatrices, and whilst the rest of us were handed exotic and delicately flavoured eggs, we were entertained by Endo’s efforts to petrify more cats (released from the smaller crates) than the Prince. He was, ultimately, unsuccessful, but when his cockatrice was then engaged in full-on fight with the Prince’s, his bird landed a number of telling blows which led him to a narrow victory, and was rewarded with a large silver egg for his troubles. .oOo. We were then led to a long narrow garden lit by braziers fashioned from human skulls. A low mound of dyed skulls lay to one side, and we were spoken to once again by the Fabler. “Allow me to present you to Jack,” said the Fabler as he produced a black-coloured skull. “Jack was an unfortunate criminal whose lot has been more successful in death than it ever was in life, as now he can at least provide an amusement for his Prince. In this competition, the Prince will throw Jack, and each of you shall throw your own poor unfortunate. Whoever manages to land the closest shall win the Prince’s challenge.” Between bites of delicately flavoured (and headless) gingerbread men, we threw our skulls after the Prince’s. Although my throw was remarkably close, I was beaten by a very close throw by Misczen the Halfling. After she had collected her prize, a gong was sounded, and we all headed into the body of the palace for dinner. [/QUOTE]
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The Age of Worms - Morrus' Campaign - Finished 6th August!!
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