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The Durnhill Conscripts
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<blockquote data-quote="Richards" data-source="post: 7505464" data-attributes="member: 508"><p><strong>ADVENTURE 26: OF TURNCOATS AND TRAITORS</strong></p><p></p><p>PC Roster: </p><p style="margin-left: 20px">Daleth Stormsea, elf wizard 7</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px"> Galen Thorne, human paladin 9</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px"> Kaspar Hardstrike, elf monk 9</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px"> Orion Nightsky, halfling rogue 8</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px"> Syngaard, human fighter 9</p><p></p><p>Game Session Date: 3 October 2018</p><p></p><p> - - -</p><p></p><p>It was still fairly early in the morning when the rings activated and the voice of Skevros called out to their wearers, "Meet me in the tavern immediately!" That brooked no uncertainty; the individual conscripts immediately stopped what they'd been doing and headed directly to the <em>Enchanted Flagon</em>.</p><p></p><p>Syngaard was characteristically the last to arrive, as he had the farthest distance to travel to get to the group's unofficial headquarters. When he arrived, he saw the other four members of his group gathered together in the tavern with Skevros...along with a man in a dark blue robe, of the style worn by the Evokers of the Azure Glade. Syngaard's eyes narrowed and he instinctively went for the weapon at his belt. Skevros, having anticipated the fighter's reaction, held up a hand in restraint and said, "This man is here as an ally." Syngaard wasn't immediately convinced; the man bore more than a passing resemblance to Reginald, the corrupt leader of the Azure Guard team they had fought in Skevros's own manor house in the Azure Glade. So while he didn't draw his weapon, he left his hand on the hilt, just in case.</p><p></p><p>Skevros turned to the visitor and said, "This is all of us. Please tell them what you have told me."</p><p></p><p>The Evoker scanned at the five unfriendly faces surrounding him around the table. "My name's <strong>Arenos</strong>," he said. "Until recently, I was the Guildmaster of the Evokers Guild."</p><p></p><p>"Then you are allied with the Seekers of Eternity!" erupted Galen, reaching for his own weapon.</p><p></p><p>"I am not!" replied Arenos at once. "My Guild was infiltrated, and many of those under my command switched their allegiance to the Seekers of Eternity. They tried controlling me through fear and intimidation, wishing me to become nothing more than a figurehead. Your trial - where I abstained from voting against you - was the last straw. They followed through with their threats to replace me, and I was summarily cast out from the organization I had led."</p><p></p><p>"So now you wish to join us in our fight against the Seekers?" prompted Orion.</p><p></p><p>"Me? Hell, no," scoffed Arenos. "I plan on hightailing it out of here - I have the means to leave the Material Plane altogether, and I intend to do so without delay, as the Seekers want me dead. As it is, I've already narrowly avoided one attempt upon my life. But before I leave, I thought it prudent to pass on some information that will aid you in disrupting their plans."</p><p></p><p>"Speak on, then," demanded Galen.</p><p></p><p>"You are familiar with the creature known as a lich?"</p><p></p><p>"We are all aware of their existence," answered Skevros with a small smirk.</p><p></p><p>"Then you know the normal path to lichdom is via a ritual performed by a living spellcaster to transform himself into one of those foul beings. The Seekers have developed a ritual that can bind the soul of one already dead into lichdom. This is altogether new to me - it's not the normal way of doing things. But the ritual must be performed under the light of the first full moon immediately after the person's death."</p><p></p><p>"And you believe the Seekers will perform such a ritual?" asked Kaspar.</p><p></p><p>"I do. Three weeks ago, Arcturus had me prepare a ritual area, although at the time I was unaware of its purpose. Now, in hindsight, it seems that Arcturus was preparing for his own death - at your hands."</p><p></p><p>"That would explain why the Guildmaster of Divination couldn't foresee his own death when he took us on," observed Daleth. "He did, in fact, foresee it - and even planned for it."</p><p></p><p>"And in two days it will be the first night of the full moon," added Arenos. "It's likely they'll try to perform to ritual then."</p><p></p><p>"Thus bringing Arcturus back into the world as a lich," lamented Skevros.</p><p></p><p>"So we stop this ritual, we stop Arcturus coming back," reasoned Syngaard. "And it sounds like this is his one chance, right? 'First full moon' you said."</p><p></p><p>"That is correct," replied the Evoker.</p><p></p><p>"Arenos has given me a detailed description of the ritual area," Skevros informed his troops. "I should be able to <em>scry</em> upon the place and <em>teleport</em> you all there in time to disrupt the ritual and prevent Arcturus's ascension to lichdom."</p><p></p><p>"Won't they have the place blocked from teleportation, if the ritual is that important?" asked Orion.</p><p></p><p>"They cannot," Arenos informed the group. "Due to the specifics of the ritual, they cannot block conjuration magic, or the ritual will fail."</p><p></p><p>"So we're in," grinned Syngaard - and anyone who's ever witnessed the sight of Syngaard's scarred face twisted into the rictus of an evil grin knows that's a sight not soon forgotten.</p><p></p><p>"You have two days to prepare for the mission," Skevros pointed out. "In the meantime, I will perform my observations upon the ritual site and see if I can discern anything about what you might expect. Report at the south gate the day after tomorrow, in full combat gear, ready for battle. You are dismissed."</p><p></p><p>"And I'm out of here as well," replied Arenos, casting a <em>plane shift</em> spell. Before he disappeared forever, he called out "Good luck!" to the conscripts.</p><p></p><p>"Coward!" scoffed Galen. "I'm sure a wizard of his power would have been handy in the upcoming battle. And the gods know we could use a powerful spellcaster on our side."</p><p></p><p>"You have me," Daleth reminded him. "I'll be there, fighting at your side."</p><p></p><p>Galen looked down at the elven mage before him and sighed. "As I said," he remarked.</p><p></p><p>Preparations for the group meant the purchase of several accessories to aid in the upcoming combat. Kaspar purchased a pair of comfortable slippers that enabled him to run straight up and down walls and across ceilings. Orion bought thunderstones and tanglefoot bags in bulk, storing them in her <em>bag of holding</em>, which she fastened to the other side of Carl's <em>ghost touch saddle</em> from her <em>bag of blades</em>. Now she had weapons on either side of her while riding the ghost of her riding dog into battle! Galen upgraded the power of his <em>ring of protection</em>, while Daleth bought a pair of magical <em>bracers</em> that would do what a <em>mage armor</em> spell did - thus freeing up a spell slot that could be filled with another spell. Syngaard picked up an <em>ioun stone</em> that floated around his head, increasing his reaction time when enemies tried to land a blow. A few of the conscripts also picked up a potion or two from a respectable vendor, and then they decided they were as ready as they could be.</p><p></p><p>Two nights later, they met Skevros at the city's south gate. He had already filled his scrying bowl with water and allowed them to see, for the first time, the area they'd be attacking. In a forest clearing stood a stone platform rising up from the ground, with two short sets of stairs leading up to it. Six separate piles of bodies surrounded the platform, the back half of which was higher still, requiring a wide set of steps leading up to it from the front of the stone edifice. In the corners of this rear platform stood four urn-like devices, above each of which hovered a glowing orb of reddish light. Between the urns stood a stone sarcophagus, looking to have been carved from the same solid slab of stone as the rest of the platform. Standing before the sarcophagus was a pair of robed individuals, one dark, one light. Three more robed men stood at the lower edge of the platform, keeping a wary eye out. Their robes looked to be various shades of gray.</p><p></p><p>"Don't you get color in this thing?" complained Syngaard.</p><p></p><p>"It's moonlight," countered Skevros. "What did you expect?"</p><p></p><p>"Black and white by the sarcophagus," said Daleth, his keen elven eyesight having no difficulty in picking out the colors by moonlight. "Blue, orange, and green closer by the stairs."</p><p></p><p>"So divination and necromancy by the sarcophagus - that makes sense," Kaspar said. "I would think the necromancer's in charge of the ritual as a whole."</p><p></p><p>"Very likely," agreed Skevros. "And that would be an evoker, a conjurer, and an abjurer assisting. Where would you like me to set you down?"</p><p></p><p>"Howzabout right there in the midst of things," suggested Syngaard. "I'll take out the necromancer first."</p><p></p><p>"I'd rather attack them at range first, if possible," argued Orion. "I brought thunderstones - one of those plopped right down in the middle might make it harder for the spellcasters to work their magic."</p><p></p><p>"You could <em>teleport</em> us right behind the platform," suggested Galen. "Orion could float up and toss her thunderstone while the rest of us flank around from both sides."</p><p></p><p>"Nah, they're facing that way," argued Syngaard. "They'll see her as soon as she pops her head up. We oughtta plunk down right here," he said, pointing at the ground between the two short sets of stairs leading to the lower part of the platform. Orion throws her little stone or whatever" - and here Orion gave the bald fighter an irritated look - "and then the rest of us surge forward. Kaspar, you're the fastest: you go straight for the necromancer. Galen and I will rush up behind you and take out these two, by the stairs, while Daleth and Orion attack from range."</p><p></p><p>"As you wish," declared Skevros. "Are you ready?"</p><p></p><p>"Spells first," suggested Galen, casting a <em>bless weapon</em> upon the <em>sword of Zehkar</em> and a <em>protection from evil</em> spell on himself. Daleth cast a <em>magic circle against evil</em> spell on himself while Galen called out through the planes for his bonded mount. Burt appeared in a flash, eager for battle. Then everyone crowded together and Skevros cast the <em>teleport</em> spell that sent the fighting force to the Azure Glade, at the site of the impending ritual.</p><p></p><p>They thought they'd get in a surprise attack before the enemy wizards were even aware of their presence, but the conscripts had the tables turned on them - the two robed mages closest to the steps, as they were not immediately involved in the ritual by the sarcophagus, each attacked with a <em>fireball</em> spell to start things off. Rather than getting in a few surprise attacks of their own, the conscripts found themselves enveloped in twin rapid-fire explosions of flame. (In hindsight, it made perfect sense the enemies would know which way the attack would come from, given the diviner among their ranks.) Fortunately, these were fairly low-level wizards on guard duty, and the conscripts made it through the spell-onslaught little the worse for wear; as it was, Carl took the worst of it, and he was already dead!</p><p></p><p>At his mistress's command, Carl floated straight up until Orion was as high in the air as the upper level of the platform. She had a thunderstone at the ready and set it flying, to crash into the middle of the other three wizards with an explosion of sound. Judging by their reactions, the diviner and the evoker were deafened, while the necromancer was unaffected by the sudden blast of weaponized noise.</p><p></p><p>But that had been Kaspar's cue: with a sudden burst of speed, he slipped past the conjurer and the abjurer - each of whom tried ineffectually to stop him with their daggers - raced up the wide stairs, and struck at the necromancer. His blow just grazed her, his <em>tenryutsume</em> catching on her loose, black cloak and ripping it from her robes. She seemed unfazed by the attack, merely turning to the elven monk and staring at him with hypnotic, red eyes and whispering, "Kill your friends for me...." Fortunately, Kaspar's mind had been honed as well as his body by his years in the monastery, and he was able to easily avoid the dominating gaze of what he now realized was a vampire.</p><p></p><p>The diviner took a step backward from the monk who had suddenly appeared in their midst and tried casting a <em>fireball</em> spell, but fumbled over the words due to his sudden deafness. (Down at the front of the platform, Daleth smirked quietly to himself as the diviner yelled out the spell's verbal components, unconsciously trying to compensate for his inability to hear them himself.) In any case, the spell fizzled out before it could be fully cast.</p><p></p><p>Syngaard mounted the steps and swung his <em>human bane scimitar</em> at the abjurer, having seen he was human beneath the orange hood. What should have been a lethal blow - for Syngaard cut the front of the wizard's robes open and the flesh beneath it diagonally from sternum to waist - healed up instantly as a beam of red light shot down from one of the red globes hovering 20 feet or so above the top of the platform. That at least explained their purpose - they were apparently a shared pool of <em>false life</em> spells - but the scarred fighter took no comfort in the knowledge. He was just pissed that once again, magic robbed him of his kill!</p><p></p><p>Daleth, confident in his fellow elf's ability to avoid the worst of damaging spells, decided to plant an <em>empowered fireball</em> right in the middle of all five enemy wizards - even though that put Kaspar practically at the epicenter of the explosion. Sure enough, Kaspar heard the magical "pellet" flying through the air close by and ducked, swinging himself in an arc as he instinctively sought out the pockets where the flames were thinner. He regained his footing with barely more than a few singes on his monk's robes, whereas all four floating, red globes shot out beams of energy to replenish the Seekers' life-energy that had been burned away by the <em>fireball</em>. Such rapid healing completely drained two of the globes, which vanished with the flames; a third had been drained to about a quarter of its original size.</p><p></p><p>With Syngaard standing upon one of the sets of steps, Galen ran to the other set - only to be confronted by the conjurer. Actually, it wasn't that much of a confrontation, as the <em>sword of Zehkar</em> plunged deep into the wizard's gut and came back out wet with blood. The third floating globe was completely depleted upon restoring the conjurer's body, with a bit drained from the fourth and final orb as well. But if nothing else, Galen's charge up onto the platform had been stopped as certainly as had been Syngaard's.</p><p></p><p>In return, the conjurer looked about, did a quick mental calculation, and determined he could cast a <em>stinking cloud</em> that would encompass all of the attackers - including the dire lion - save the elven monk already behind him. Of course, to do so, he'd have to include the abjurer within its radius. Without hesitation, the conjurer cast the spell, causing nauseating, green vapor to rise up from the ground, partially obscuring the enemies. Alas, the conscripts were a fairly tough lot and they were all able to avoid the worst of the spell's effects. Not so the abjurer, who could be heard retching uncontrollably in the greenish mist.</p><p></p><p>Burt honed in on the sounds of vomiting, letting them guide him to the edge of the fog and to the nearest enemy. His slashed with the claws on his front paws and brought his jaws clamping down on the hapless abjurer. A beam of red energy shot down for the last time, leaving the orange-clad wizard barely still standing on his own feet while the final globe winked out above him. The revitalizing pool of <em>false life</em> spells had now been completely depleted; the Seekers were on their own! The abjurer staggered out of the cloud of vapors, counting himself lucky to remain standing in his present condition.</p><p></p><p>Kaspar sent a flurry of blows crashing into the vampire before him; each fist struck solidly but seemed to do little overall damage. <strong>Mistress Nightshade</strong> merely smirked at him, as if amused by his efforts.</p><p></p><p>Deafened by the thunderstone and having seen the blood orbs drained of their magic in much less time than he would ever have guessed, the evoker managed to successfully cast a <em>fireball</em> in the center of the <em>stinking cloud</em>, having already seen that he'd get all of the enemy forces but the monk in that manner. As the conscripts cried out in pain, the evoker made his move - down off the side of the platform and straight towards the nearest trees of the surrounding forest.</p><p></p><p>Most of the party shrugged off the damage from this third <em>fireball</em> - all but Carl, whose ectoplasmic form was destroyed by the spell, leaving Orion sitting in a <em>ghost touch saddle</em> 20 feet in the air. She tucked into a roll upon crash-landing, diving sideways from the saddle at the last possible moment and ending up on her feet, her <em>flaming short sword</em> out and ready for action.</p><p></p><p>Syngaard killed the abjurer with his <em>human bane scimitar</em> and cleaved into the conjurer who stood beside him. Sadly, this wizard was a half-elf, preventing the scimitar from working its extra magic against its primary foe. Then, while Galen tried unsuccessfully to turn the vampire with his holy symbol of Hieroneous, Syngaard spotted the evoker heading for the safety of the trees. "Wizard-Pants!" he cried out. "Blue guy's yours!" Daleth, stepping out of the area of effect of the <em>stinking cloud</em> spell, saw the fleeing wizard and brought him down with an <em>empowered magic missile</em> channeled through his <em>metamagic rod</em>. Burt finished off the conjurer, ripping into him with teeth and claws and then shaking the lifeless body in his jaws like a rag doll.</p><p></p><p>Mistress Nightshade extracted herself from the fight with Kaspar and rushed over to Syngaard, seeing him - quite rightly - as a more promising target for the dominating effect of her gaze. But the bald fighter surprised everyone (even himself!) by resisting the effect.</p><p></p><p>While the rest of the group began converging on the vampire, Orion decided to focus her attention on the white-robed diviner, rushing up and stabbing at him with her <em>flaming short sword</em>. Bleeding, he fell back and repositioned himself to catch Kaspar, Syngaard, and Galen in a <em>burning hands</em> spell - taking another cut from Orion's sword in doing so - and was discouraged to see his spell had even less of an effect than the previous <em>fireballs</em> had.</p><p></p><p>Syngaard's scimitar cut across the vampire's torso; Kaspar's fists came crashing into her back; neither seemed to deal her much damage. Syngaard had figured out she must have some sort of protection - either from a spell or maybe just by dint of fact that she was an undead creature - when Galen stepped up and dealt her some true damage with a <em>smite evil</em> attack channeled through the blade of the <em>sword of Zehkar</em>. "Foul thing!" the paladin sneered as he brought his blade down upon her a second time, causing her body to dissolve into a fine mist.</p><p></p><p>"I suhwenda!" cried the mush-mouthed diviner, unable to hear his own words but having seen Mistress Nightshade's unholy life cut down before him. If they could take out someone with her power, what chance did he stand? Quite appropriately (under the circumstances), his words fell on deaf ears and Orion's blade flicked out to cut his throat away.</p><p></p><p>The vampire's form could still be made out despite its gaseous nature; she flowed through the air, heading for the forest. "I'll follow her to her lair!" called out Daleth, confident in the spells stored in the <em>staff of divination</em> he'd taken from Arcturus's body to help him seek her out if she gave him the slip. "Burt! Go with Daleth!" Galen commanded, and the dire lion pounced after the elven wizard. Then the rest of the group devoted their attention to the stone sarcophocus.</p><p></p><p>Orion gave the structure a thorough examination before she let anyone touch it. "It looks safe," she reported.</p><p></p><p>"It's radiating evil, though," added Galen after examining its aura. "A large rectangular shape, inside."</p><p></p><p>"Well, let's give it a look!" said Syngaard, shoving the heavy stone lid off the sarcophagus. It clattered to the back of the platform, revealing the interior filled with a thick, oily substance. Through the murky liquid, the group could just barely make out the form of a man, wrapped in a white burial shroud - had the shroud been darker, it was unlikely they'd have been able to make it out at all.</p><p></p><p>"Arcturus, I presume," Galen observed.</p><p></p><p>"Did we stop the ritual in time?" asked Orion. "He's not going to rise as a lich, is he?"</p><p></p><p>"Let's find out," suggested Syngaard, stepping onto the rim of the sarcophagus. With one foot on a wall on either side of the stone coffin's corner, he flipped aside his codpiece. Realizing at the last moment what the scarred fighter was about to do, Orion averted her gaze with a grimace. "Syngaard!" she complained.</p><p></p><p>"Hey, Arcturus - I got something for you!" Syngaard taunted. A stream of urine hit the liquid above the shroud's head. Quite worrisome, the shroud-covered body seemed to flinch from the desecration.</p><p></p><p>Daleth and Burt arrived shortly thereafter, the vampire's nearest coffin not having been too far away. "She's been taken care of permanently," he told the group, and they in turn brought him up to speed. "That looks like osteovox," the elf wizard murmured, peering into the open sarcophagus.</p><p></p><p>"It does!" agreed Kaspar.</p><p></p><p>"You don't think..." Daleth mused.</p><p></p><p>"What?" asked Galen.</p><p></p><p>"Remember the osteovox rituals we used to perform with Skevros, before we found out how dangerous they were? We put a human skull into a vat of osteovox, wrapped in a question on a strip of parchment. And when we retrieved it, instead of the answer to the question being printed on the paper--"</p><p></p><p>"The spirit of the Mithral Mage inhabited the skull!" finished Kaspar. He looked with worry down at the shroud at the bottom of the osteovox. "Then this ritual was never about bringing Arcturus back as a lich!" the monk exclaimed. "It was designed to use Arcturus' body as a new home for the Mithral Mage!"</p><p></p><p>"That we will not allow," said Galen with determination. He took a vial of holy water from his belt and removed the stopper, then poured the consecrated contents into the osteovox - at the shroud's feet, as it somehow seemed blasphemous to knowingly mix holy water with urine. The shroud writhed as if in agony upon the holy water sinking down to its level within the osteovox. Taking no further chances, Galen stabbed the <em>sword of Zehkar</em> straight into the open sarcophagus, pinning the shroud in the chest and stabbing all the way down through the body wrapped within. A faint voice bubbled up from the osteovox as the holy blade pierced the reanimated corpse of Arcturus and disintegrated it to ash: "I hate you all...!"</p><p></p><p>"So that's it - we did it!" cried Orion eagerly.</p><p></p><p>"That we did," agreed Galen, stoppering the empty vial and returning it to his belt. He then shook his longsword, flicking off any remaining traces of osteovox from its gleaming blade before returning it to its scabbard.</p><p></p><p>"So where the Hell are we, exactly?" asked Syngaard, looking around and seeing blue-leaved trees surrounding them in the moonlight. "Anybody know which way we gotta trudge to get back home?"</p><p></p><p>As if on cue, a metal ring a full foot in diameter suddenly appeared in mid-air behind the group, making a loud clattering as it fell to the stone platform. There was a strip of parchment wrapped around it, in the same manner as an object about to be dropped into a vat of osteovox.</p><p></p><p>"It's from Skevros!" said Daleth, reading the note by the light of the full moon. He held up the ring in one hand and directed the others to do likewise. Galen dismissed Burt back to his celestial home with his thanks and placed his hand upon the ring, along with the others. With a sudden gasp of realization, Orion let go of the ring and ran back to fetch Carl's <em>ghost touch saddle</em>, returning to her place once it was safe in her other hand, balanced against her hip. Then Daleth spoke the command word and the <em>ring of return</em> teleported the group back to the south gate just outside the official boundary of Durnhill, where Skevros was there to greet them just inside the kingdom's border.</p><p></p><p>"Very nice!" said Daleth, handing the <em>ring of return</em> to the king's adviser.</p><p></p><p>"Much appreciated!" agreed Galen.</p><p></p><p>"No trudging!" remarked Syngaard. "You can be an okay guy at times, Skevros!"</p><p></p><p>"I can indeed," Skevros smiled in agreement.</p><p></p><p> - - -</p><p></p><p>Logan had everyone cracking up around the table while doing the voice of the wizards who had gone deaf from the thunderstone's sonic damage and couldn't hear what they sounded like to themselves. That was a cool bit of extemporaneousness on his part, too, as he had no way to know ahead of time that Vicki was going to buy thunderstones for Orion and our whole "opening salvo" would hinge on their use.</p><p></p><p>Orion, by the way, leveled up at the end of the adventure and now joins everyone else but Daleth at 9th level.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Richards, post: 7505464, member: 508"] [B]ADVENTURE 26: OF TURNCOATS AND TRAITORS[/B] PC Roster: [INDENT]Daleth Stormsea, elf wizard 7[/INDENT] [INDENT] Galen Thorne, human paladin 9[/INDENT] [INDENT] Kaspar Hardstrike, elf monk 9[/INDENT] [INDENT] Orion Nightsky, halfling rogue 8[/INDENT] [INDENT] Syngaard, human fighter 9[/INDENT] Game Session Date: 3 October 2018 - - - It was still fairly early in the morning when the rings activated and the voice of Skevros called out to their wearers, "Meet me in the tavern immediately!" That brooked no uncertainty; the individual conscripts immediately stopped what they'd been doing and headed directly to the [I]Enchanted Flagon[/I]. Syngaard was characteristically the last to arrive, as he had the farthest distance to travel to get to the group's unofficial headquarters. When he arrived, he saw the other four members of his group gathered together in the tavern with Skevros...along with a man in a dark blue robe, of the style worn by the Evokers of the Azure Glade. Syngaard's eyes narrowed and he instinctively went for the weapon at his belt. Skevros, having anticipated the fighter's reaction, held up a hand in restraint and said, "This man is here as an ally." Syngaard wasn't immediately convinced; the man bore more than a passing resemblance to Reginald, the corrupt leader of the Azure Guard team they had fought in Skevros's own manor house in the Azure Glade. So while he didn't draw his weapon, he left his hand on the hilt, just in case. Skevros turned to the visitor and said, "This is all of us. Please tell them what you have told me." The Evoker scanned at the five unfriendly faces surrounding him around the table. "My name's [B]Arenos[/B]," he said. "Until recently, I was the Guildmaster of the Evokers Guild." "Then you are allied with the Seekers of Eternity!" erupted Galen, reaching for his own weapon. "I am not!" replied Arenos at once. "My Guild was infiltrated, and many of those under my command switched their allegiance to the Seekers of Eternity. They tried controlling me through fear and intimidation, wishing me to become nothing more than a figurehead. Your trial - where I abstained from voting against you - was the last straw. They followed through with their threats to replace me, and I was summarily cast out from the organization I had led." "So now you wish to join us in our fight against the Seekers?" prompted Orion. "Me? Hell, no," scoffed Arenos. "I plan on hightailing it out of here - I have the means to leave the Material Plane altogether, and I intend to do so without delay, as the Seekers want me dead. As it is, I've already narrowly avoided one attempt upon my life. But before I leave, I thought it prudent to pass on some information that will aid you in disrupting their plans." "Speak on, then," demanded Galen. "You are familiar with the creature known as a lich?" "We are all aware of their existence," answered Skevros with a small smirk. "Then you know the normal path to lichdom is via a ritual performed by a living spellcaster to transform himself into one of those foul beings. The Seekers have developed a ritual that can bind the soul of one already dead into lichdom. This is altogether new to me - it's not the normal way of doing things. But the ritual must be performed under the light of the first full moon immediately after the person's death." "And you believe the Seekers will perform such a ritual?" asked Kaspar. "I do. Three weeks ago, Arcturus had me prepare a ritual area, although at the time I was unaware of its purpose. Now, in hindsight, it seems that Arcturus was preparing for his own death - at your hands." "That would explain why the Guildmaster of Divination couldn't foresee his own death when he took us on," observed Daleth. "He did, in fact, foresee it - and even planned for it." "And in two days it will be the first night of the full moon," added Arenos. "It's likely they'll try to perform to ritual then." "Thus bringing Arcturus back into the world as a lich," lamented Skevros. "So we stop this ritual, we stop Arcturus coming back," reasoned Syngaard. "And it sounds like this is his one chance, right? 'First full moon' you said." "That is correct," replied the Evoker. "Arenos has given me a detailed description of the ritual area," Skevros informed his troops. "I should be able to [I]scry[/I] upon the place and [I]teleport[/I] you all there in time to disrupt the ritual and prevent Arcturus's ascension to lichdom." "Won't they have the place blocked from teleportation, if the ritual is that important?" asked Orion. "They cannot," Arenos informed the group. "Due to the specifics of the ritual, they cannot block conjuration magic, or the ritual will fail." "So we're in," grinned Syngaard - and anyone who's ever witnessed the sight of Syngaard's scarred face twisted into the rictus of an evil grin knows that's a sight not soon forgotten. "You have two days to prepare for the mission," Skevros pointed out. "In the meantime, I will perform my observations upon the ritual site and see if I can discern anything about what you might expect. Report at the south gate the day after tomorrow, in full combat gear, ready for battle. You are dismissed." "And I'm out of here as well," replied Arenos, casting a [I]plane shift[/I] spell. Before he disappeared forever, he called out "Good luck!" to the conscripts. "Coward!" scoffed Galen. "I'm sure a wizard of his power would have been handy in the upcoming battle. And the gods know we could use a powerful spellcaster on our side." "You have me," Daleth reminded him. "I'll be there, fighting at your side." Galen looked down at the elven mage before him and sighed. "As I said," he remarked. Preparations for the group meant the purchase of several accessories to aid in the upcoming combat. Kaspar purchased a pair of comfortable slippers that enabled him to run straight up and down walls and across ceilings. Orion bought thunderstones and tanglefoot bags in bulk, storing them in her [I]bag of holding[/I], which she fastened to the other side of Carl's [I]ghost touch saddle[/I] from her [I]bag of blades[/I]. Now she had weapons on either side of her while riding the ghost of her riding dog into battle! Galen upgraded the power of his [I]ring of protection[/I], while Daleth bought a pair of magical [I]bracers[/I] that would do what a [I]mage armor[/I] spell did - thus freeing up a spell slot that could be filled with another spell. Syngaard picked up an [I]ioun stone[/I] that floated around his head, increasing his reaction time when enemies tried to land a blow. A few of the conscripts also picked up a potion or two from a respectable vendor, and then they decided they were as ready as they could be. Two nights later, they met Skevros at the city's south gate. He had already filled his scrying bowl with water and allowed them to see, for the first time, the area they'd be attacking. In a forest clearing stood a stone platform rising up from the ground, with two short sets of stairs leading up to it. Six separate piles of bodies surrounded the platform, the back half of which was higher still, requiring a wide set of steps leading up to it from the front of the stone edifice. In the corners of this rear platform stood four urn-like devices, above each of which hovered a glowing orb of reddish light. Between the urns stood a stone sarcophagus, looking to have been carved from the same solid slab of stone as the rest of the platform. Standing before the sarcophagus was a pair of robed individuals, one dark, one light. Three more robed men stood at the lower edge of the platform, keeping a wary eye out. Their robes looked to be various shades of gray. "Don't you get color in this thing?" complained Syngaard. "It's moonlight," countered Skevros. "What did you expect?" "Black and white by the sarcophagus," said Daleth, his keen elven eyesight having no difficulty in picking out the colors by moonlight. "Blue, orange, and green closer by the stairs." "So divination and necromancy by the sarcophagus - that makes sense," Kaspar said. "I would think the necromancer's in charge of the ritual as a whole." "Very likely," agreed Skevros. "And that would be an evoker, a conjurer, and an abjurer assisting. Where would you like me to set you down?" "Howzabout right there in the midst of things," suggested Syngaard. "I'll take out the necromancer first." "I'd rather attack them at range first, if possible," argued Orion. "I brought thunderstones - one of those plopped right down in the middle might make it harder for the spellcasters to work their magic." "You could [I]teleport[/I] us right behind the platform," suggested Galen. "Orion could float up and toss her thunderstone while the rest of us flank around from both sides." "Nah, they're facing that way," argued Syngaard. "They'll see her as soon as she pops her head up. We oughtta plunk down right here," he said, pointing at the ground between the two short sets of stairs leading to the lower part of the platform. Orion throws her little stone or whatever" - and here Orion gave the bald fighter an irritated look - "and then the rest of us surge forward. Kaspar, you're the fastest: you go straight for the necromancer. Galen and I will rush up behind you and take out these two, by the stairs, while Daleth and Orion attack from range." "As you wish," declared Skevros. "Are you ready?" "Spells first," suggested Galen, casting a [I]bless weapon[/I] upon the [I]sword of Zehkar[/I] and a [I]protection from evil[/I] spell on himself. Daleth cast a [I]magic circle against evil[/I] spell on himself while Galen called out through the planes for his bonded mount. Burt appeared in a flash, eager for battle. Then everyone crowded together and Skevros cast the [I]teleport[/I] spell that sent the fighting force to the Azure Glade, at the site of the impending ritual. They thought they'd get in a surprise attack before the enemy wizards were even aware of their presence, but the conscripts had the tables turned on them - the two robed mages closest to the steps, as they were not immediately involved in the ritual by the sarcophagus, each attacked with a [I]fireball[/I] spell to start things off. Rather than getting in a few surprise attacks of their own, the conscripts found themselves enveloped in twin rapid-fire explosions of flame. (In hindsight, it made perfect sense the enemies would know which way the attack would come from, given the diviner among their ranks.) Fortunately, these were fairly low-level wizards on guard duty, and the conscripts made it through the spell-onslaught little the worse for wear; as it was, Carl took the worst of it, and he was already dead! At his mistress's command, Carl floated straight up until Orion was as high in the air as the upper level of the platform. She had a thunderstone at the ready and set it flying, to crash into the middle of the other three wizards with an explosion of sound. Judging by their reactions, the diviner and the evoker were deafened, while the necromancer was unaffected by the sudden blast of weaponized noise. But that had been Kaspar's cue: with a sudden burst of speed, he slipped past the conjurer and the abjurer - each of whom tried ineffectually to stop him with their daggers - raced up the wide stairs, and struck at the necromancer. His blow just grazed her, his [I]tenryutsume[/I] catching on her loose, black cloak and ripping it from her robes. She seemed unfazed by the attack, merely turning to the elven monk and staring at him with hypnotic, red eyes and whispering, "Kill your friends for me...." Fortunately, Kaspar's mind had been honed as well as his body by his years in the monastery, and he was able to easily avoid the dominating gaze of what he now realized was a vampire. The diviner took a step backward from the monk who had suddenly appeared in their midst and tried casting a [I]fireball[/I] spell, but fumbled over the words due to his sudden deafness. (Down at the front of the platform, Daleth smirked quietly to himself as the diviner yelled out the spell's verbal components, unconsciously trying to compensate for his inability to hear them himself.) In any case, the spell fizzled out before it could be fully cast. Syngaard mounted the steps and swung his [I]human bane scimitar[/I] at the abjurer, having seen he was human beneath the orange hood. What should have been a lethal blow - for Syngaard cut the front of the wizard's robes open and the flesh beneath it diagonally from sternum to waist - healed up instantly as a beam of red light shot down from one of the red globes hovering 20 feet or so above the top of the platform. That at least explained their purpose - they were apparently a shared pool of [I]false life[/I] spells - but the scarred fighter took no comfort in the knowledge. He was just pissed that once again, magic robbed him of his kill! Daleth, confident in his fellow elf's ability to avoid the worst of damaging spells, decided to plant an [I]empowered fireball[/I] right in the middle of all five enemy wizards - even though that put Kaspar practically at the epicenter of the explosion. Sure enough, Kaspar heard the magical "pellet" flying through the air close by and ducked, swinging himself in an arc as he instinctively sought out the pockets where the flames were thinner. He regained his footing with barely more than a few singes on his monk's robes, whereas all four floating, red globes shot out beams of energy to replenish the Seekers' life-energy that had been burned away by the [I]fireball[/I]. Such rapid healing completely drained two of the globes, which vanished with the flames; a third had been drained to about a quarter of its original size. With Syngaard standing upon one of the sets of steps, Galen ran to the other set - only to be confronted by the conjurer. Actually, it wasn't that much of a confrontation, as the [I]sword of Zehkar[/I] plunged deep into the wizard's gut and came back out wet with blood. The third floating globe was completely depleted upon restoring the conjurer's body, with a bit drained from the fourth and final orb as well. But if nothing else, Galen's charge up onto the platform had been stopped as certainly as had been Syngaard's. In return, the conjurer looked about, did a quick mental calculation, and determined he could cast a [I]stinking cloud[/I] that would encompass all of the attackers - including the dire lion - save the elven monk already behind him. Of course, to do so, he'd have to include the abjurer within its radius. Without hesitation, the conjurer cast the spell, causing nauseating, green vapor to rise up from the ground, partially obscuring the enemies. Alas, the conscripts were a fairly tough lot and they were all able to avoid the worst of the spell's effects. Not so the abjurer, who could be heard retching uncontrollably in the greenish mist. Burt honed in on the sounds of vomiting, letting them guide him to the edge of the fog and to the nearest enemy. His slashed with the claws on his front paws and brought his jaws clamping down on the hapless abjurer. A beam of red energy shot down for the last time, leaving the orange-clad wizard barely still standing on his own feet while the final globe winked out above him. The revitalizing pool of [I]false life[/I] spells had now been completely depleted; the Seekers were on their own! The abjurer staggered out of the cloud of vapors, counting himself lucky to remain standing in his present condition. Kaspar sent a flurry of blows crashing into the vampire before him; each fist struck solidly but seemed to do little overall damage. [B]Mistress Nightshade[/B] merely smirked at him, as if amused by his efforts. Deafened by the thunderstone and having seen the blood orbs drained of their magic in much less time than he would ever have guessed, the evoker managed to successfully cast a [I]fireball[/I] in the center of the [I]stinking cloud[/I], having already seen that he'd get all of the enemy forces but the monk in that manner. As the conscripts cried out in pain, the evoker made his move - down off the side of the platform and straight towards the nearest trees of the surrounding forest. Most of the party shrugged off the damage from this third [I]fireball[/I] - all but Carl, whose ectoplasmic form was destroyed by the spell, leaving Orion sitting in a [I]ghost touch saddle[/I] 20 feet in the air. She tucked into a roll upon crash-landing, diving sideways from the saddle at the last possible moment and ending up on her feet, her [I]flaming short sword[/I] out and ready for action. Syngaard killed the abjurer with his [I]human bane scimitar[/I] and cleaved into the conjurer who stood beside him. Sadly, this wizard was a half-elf, preventing the scimitar from working its extra magic against its primary foe. Then, while Galen tried unsuccessfully to turn the vampire with his holy symbol of Hieroneous, Syngaard spotted the evoker heading for the safety of the trees. "Wizard-Pants!" he cried out. "Blue guy's yours!" Daleth, stepping out of the area of effect of the [I]stinking cloud[/I] spell, saw the fleeing wizard and brought him down with an [I]empowered magic missile[/I] channeled through his [I]metamagic rod[/I]. Burt finished off the conjurer, ripping into him with teeth and claws and then shaking the lifeless body in his jaws like a rag doll. Mistress Nightshade extracted herself from the fight with Kaspar and rushed over to Syngaard, seeing him - quite rightly - as a more promising target for the dominating effect of her gaze. But the bald fighter surprised everyone (even himself!) by resisting the effect. While the rest of the group began converging on the vampire, Orion decided to focus her attention on the white-robed diviner, rushing up and stabbing at him with her [I]flaming short sword[/I]. Bleeding, he fell back and repositioned himself to catch Kaspar, Syngaard, and Galen in a [I]burning hands[/I] spell - taking another cut from Orion's sword in doing so - and was discouraged to see his spell had even less of an effect than the previous [I]fireballs[/I] had. Syngaard's scimitar cut across the vampire's torso; Kaspar's fists came crashing into her back; neither seemed to deal her much damage. Syngaard had figured out she must have some sort of protection - either from a spell or maybe just by dint of fact that she was an undead creature - when Galen stepped up and dealt her some true damage with a [I]smite evil[/I] attack channeled through the blade of the [I]sword of Zehkar[/I]. "Foul thing!" the paladin sneered as he brought his blade down upon her a second time, causing her body to dissolve into a fine mist. "I suhwenda!" cried the mush-mouthed diviner, unable to hear his own words but having seen Mistress Nightshade's unholy life cut down before him. If they could take out someone with her power, what chance did he stand? Quite appropriately (under the circumstances), his words fell on deaf ears and Orion's blade flicked out to cut his throat away. The vampire's form could still be made out despite its gaseous nature; she flowed through the air, heading for the forest. "I'll follow her to her lair!" called out Daleth, confident in the spells stored in the [I]staff of divination[/I] he'd taken from Arcturus's body to help him seek her out if she gave him the slip. "Burt! Go with Daleth!" Galen commanded, and the dire lion pounced after the elven wizard. Then the rest of the group devoted their attention to the stone sarcophocus. Orion gave the structure a thorough examination before she let anyone touch it. "It looks safe," she reported. "It's radiating evil, though," added Galen after examining its aura. "A large rectangular shape, inside." "Well, let's give it a look!" said Syngaard, shoving the heavy stone lid off the sarcophagus. It clattered to the back of the platform, revealing the interior filled with a thick, oily substance. Through the murky liquid, the group could just barely make out the form of a man, wrapped in a white burial shroud - had the shroud been darker, it was unlikely they'd have been able to make it out at all. "Arcturus, I presume," Galen observed. "Did we stop the ritual in time?" asked Orion. "He's not going to rise as a lich, is he?" "Let's find out," suggested Syngaard, stepping onto the rim of the sarcophagus. With one foot on a wall on either side of the stone coffin's corner, he flipped aside his codpiece. Realizing at the last moment what the scarred fighter was about to do, Orion averted her gaze with a grimace. "Syngaard!" she complained. "Hey, Arcturus - I got something for you!" Syngaard taunted. A stream of urine hit the liquid above the shroud's head. Quite worrisome, the shroud-covered body seemed to flinch from the desecration. Daleth and Burt arrived shortly thereafter, the vampire's nearest coffin not having been too far away. "She's been taken care of permanently," he told the group, and they in turn brought him up to speed. "That looks like osteovox," the elf wizard murmured, peering into the open sarcophagus. "It does!" agreed Kaspar. "You don't think..." Daleth mused. "What?" asked Galen. "Remember the osteovox rituals we used to perform with Skevros, before we found out how dangerous they were? We put a human skull into a vat of osteovox, wrapped in a question on a strip of parchment. And when we retrieved it, instead of the answer to the question being printed on the paper--" "The spirit of the Mithral Mage inhabited the skull!" finished Kaspar. He looked with worry down at the shroud at the bottom of the osteovox. "Then this ritual was never about bringing Arcturus back as a lich!" the monk exclaimed. "It was designed to use Arcturus' body as a new home for the Mithral Mage!" "That we will not allow," said Galen with determination. He took a vial of holy water from his belt and removed the stopper, then poured the consecrated contents into the osteovox - at the shroud's feet, as it somehow seemed blasphemous to knowingly mix holy water with urine. The shroud writhed as if in agony upon the holy water sinking down to its level within the osteovox. Taking no further chances, Galen stabbed the [I]sword of Zehkar[/I] straight into the open sarcophagus, pinning the shroud in the chest and stabbing all the way down through the body wrapped within. A faint voice bubbled up from the osteovox as the holy blade pierced the reanimated corpse of Arcturus and disintegrated it to ash: "I hate you all...!" "So that's it - we did it!" cried Orion eagerly. "That we did," agreed Galen, stoppering the empty vial and returning it to his belt. He then shook his longsword, flicking off any remaining traces of osteovox from its gleaming blade before returning it to its scabbard. "So where the Hell are we, exactly?" asked Syngaard, looking around and seeing blue-leaved trees surrounding them in the moonlight. "Anybody know which way we gotta trudge to get back home?" As if on cue, a metal ring a full foot in diameter suddenly appeared in mid-air behind the group, making a loud clattering as it fell to the stone platform. There was a strip of parchment wrapped around it, in the same manner as an object about to be dropped into a vat of osteovox. "It's from Skevros!" said Daleth, reading the note by the light of the full moon. He held up the ring in one hand and directed the others to do likewise. Galen dismissed Burt back to his celestial home with his thanks and placed his hand upon the ring, along with the others. With a sudden gasp of realization, Orion let go of the ring and ran back to fetch Carl's [I]ghost touch saddle[/I], returning to her place once it was safe in her other hand, balanced against her hip. Then Daleth spoke the command word and the [I]ring of return[/I] teleported the group back to the south gate just outside the official boundary of Durnhill, where Skevros was there to greet them just inside the kingdom's border. "Very nice!" said Daleth, handing the [I]ring of return[/I] to the king's adviser. "Much appreciated!" agreed Galen. "No trudging!" remarked Syngaard. "You can be an okay guy at times, Skevros!" "I can indeed," Skevros smiled in agreement. - - - Logan had everyone cracking up around the table while doing the voice of the wizards who had gone deaf from the thunderstone's sonic damage and couldn't hear what they sounded like to themselves. That was a cool bit of extemporaneousness on his part, too, as he had no way to know ahead of time that Vicki was going to buy thunderstones for Orion and our whole "opening salvo" would hinge on their use. Orion, by the way, leveled up at the end of the adventure and now joins everyone else but Daleth at 9th level. [/QUOTE]
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