Plane Sailing
Astral Admin - Mwahahaha!
Well, it IS "Return to the Temple of Elemental Eeeeeevil". It's *supposed* to be tough. Not as tough as it is going to get though <smile>
the Kyri Chronicles - last updated 22 Oct
- Thread starter Plane Sailing
- Start date
Plane Sailing
Astral Admin - Mwahahaha!
Trajan starts to swap full attacks with the ettin, and comes out of it very badly – with two heads directing its attacks, the ettin strikes twice as many times and for much more damage. Although Trajan gets in some strong blows himself with his sharp-edged scimitar things would have gone badly if Anne-Marie had not managed to jump forwards and flank it with her darting rapier. As it was his chain shirt of invulnerability which he had obtained from the mad dwarf wight was all that kept him alive.
The ettin is finished off but Trajan is badly hurt. Although rest will cure some of the ills he starts by calling on the gracious Asura to heal him and the worst of his wounds magically heal over. They spend a couple of hours eating and resting. The ettins lair is found, although it contained very little in the way of treasure – mostly the fruit of ambushing low ranking warriors by the look of it.
When the time comes to start travelling in the ore cart again they have barely got any momentum up when Bannor shouts at them to stop and hauls on the brake. Only a dozen yards into the next tunnel the track suddenly ends by a stagnant pool of water with some unidentified ooze roiling beneath the surface and the buffers are out. If they had attempted to speed past the ettin they would have faced disaster if the ore cart had dumped them into the foul water and then followed them in. A quick check of the end of the track suggests that it has been designed to do just that.
There is a path alongside the stagnant black pool, and they follow that round for a few minutes before they become aware of a chamber opening up to their right. As Arilyns light fills the chamber they can see the other ore-cart track entering the cavern from the North and leading into a large shed. Beside the shed is a high platform – at least 20ft up from the ground. The cavern itself is domed with a high ceiling, rising to 30ft in the centre. Slowly they creep into the cavern. Then a noise is heard from the darkened northern entrance to the chamber. It is the rustle as of leathery wings.
Large leathery wings...
The ettin is finished off but Trajan is badly hurt. Although rest will cure some of the ills he starts by calling on the gracious Asura to heal him and the worst of his wounds magically heal over. They spend a couple of hours eating and resting. The ettins lair is found, although it contained very little in the way of treasure – mostly the fruit of ambushing low ranking warriors by the look of it.
When the time comes to start travelling in the ore cart again they have barely got any momentum up when Bannor shouts at them to stop and hauls on the brake. Only a dozen yards into the next tunnel the track suddenly ends by a stagnant pool of water with some unidentified ooze roiling beneath the surface and the buffers are out. If they had attempted to speed past the ettin they would have faced disaster if the ore cart had dumped them into the foul water and then followed them in. A quick check of the end of the track suggests that it has been designed to do just that.
There is a path alongside the stagnant black pool, and they follow that round for a few minutes before they become aware of a chamber opening up to their right. As Arilyns light fills the chamber they can see the other ore-cart track entering the cavern from the North and leading into a large shed. Beside the shed is a high platform – at least 20ft up from the ground. The cavern itself is domed with a high ceiling, rising to 30ft in the centre. Slowly they creep into the cavern. Then a noise is heard from the darkened northern entrance to the chamber. It is the rustle as of leathery wings.
Large leathery wings...
Plane Sailing
Astral Admin - Mwahahaha!
A voice dripping with sibilant venom hisses from the darkened passageway. “I hunger for flesssh, I hunger for treasssure, I ssscent them both among you”. A green, scaly head on a sinuous neck becomes visible at the edge of their wizardlight, and then a horrible gout of acid is sprayed out towards them. The grace of Asura once more protects his chosen son, and Trajan avoids the worst of the acid. Anne-Marie and Bannon via their quick reactions duck wholly out of the way but Meliamne is badly scarred.
The dragon stalks forth, the stench of chlorine hangs in the air and it surveys its handiwork.
“A Juvenile” breaths Meliamne, “probably 30 summers old. Pretty smart already”.
“Run” shouts Arilyn
“No” Trajan replies, “it can chase us down. I’ve fought one of these things before” His mind flicks back to the last winter when they managed to track down a juvenile White on the cusp of entering young adulthood. It had nearly killed the entire party. Its body was no bigger than a man. This one was the size of a horse. And smarter. Press the attack before it can breath again, that’s the trick.
The dragon leaps into the air and hovers, raising a storm of dust in the room.
“Air spirits grant you the gift of flight” incants Arilyn, and she touches Trajan’s shoulder. He feels the familiar lightness of a fly spell, and he accelerates up towards the creature, scimitar poised. He feels claws rake him as he closes to strike, but he calls upon the mighty power of Asura to smite evil and his blade bites deeply. Meliamne unlimbers his bow and strikes up a martial ballad, “The Dragonslayers of the Direwood” to encourage his friends. Anne-Marie runs across the room and scales the small tower with the aim of getting close enough to the hovering dragon to engage it; Bannor follows her lead.
Trajan and the dragon hang in mid air, swapping full attacks. Once again Trajan breaths thanks for the chain shirt of invulnerability which blunts the edge of the claw and wing attacks, although within a matter of seconds he is exhausted and more of the dragons blows draw blood.
Arilyn casts magic missile spells and Meliamne uses his bow, but both to little effect.
Anne-Marie is frustrated that the battle isn’t near enough to the tower she is on, so she jumps down to the shed, runs along the roof and launches herself into space, intent on grappling the flying dragons wings and bringing it down. Her plan nearly works, but the dragon manages to twist in the air and slap her down with one of its wings just before she reached it.
Trajan is in a quandary – he is sorely wounded, but he knows that retreating from the dragon would incur a possibly fatal AoO from its long neck. Suddenly he hears the voice of Bannor below him.
“Here, catch this!”
Bannor had been following the fight from his vantage point, cursing at his inability to affect the flying dragon. Noticing Trajans wounds becoming more and more severe he vaults off the platform he was standing on, runs underneath the hovering dragon and his flying friend and tosses up his only potion of Cure Serious Wounds.
Trajan snags the potion out of the air and the dragon surprisingly doesn’t take the opportunity to strike at him but folds it wings and plummets down and through the opening into the cavern which it first appeared from.
The whole party charges after it, through a short passage and into its lair where it is cornered and wounded. It breathes a stream of acid which catches Bannor flatfooted and sears the flesh from his bones before their very eyes. As they press their attack both Trajan and Anne-Marie miss the beast and it retaliates brutally – a fearsome bite takes Trajan out and leaves him dying on the cavern floor. Its wings lash at Anne-Marie, setting her up for a critical slash from one of its claws which disables her (0 hit points). Meliamne whispers an ancient elvish incantation and looses his arrow…
It flies true and catches the exhausted dragon right in the neck, causing it to slump forwards. With her last breath Anne-Marie staggers forward and makes a massive CDG attempt, driving her rapier between its scales and up into its black heart. As the creature shudders and expires the swordcoaster duellist also slumps forwards dying.
Meliamne finds himself the only one breathing properly in the vicinity, as Arilyn is still hiding back in the large cavern. He quickly prepares some of his healing potions and treats Trajan and Anne-Marie, stabilising them and bringing them back to consciousness. There is nothing that can be done for the blackened bones of their companion Bannor though. In the short while he has spent with them he has been both brave and resourceful, and will be sadly missed.
The dragon stalks forth, the stench of chlorine hangs in the air and it surveys its handiwork.
“A Juvenile” breaths Meliamne, “probably 30 summers old. Pretty smart already”.
“Run” shouts Arilyn
“No” Trajan replies, “it can chase us down. I’ve fought one of these things before” His mind flicks back to the last winter when they managed to track down a juvenile White on the cusp of entering young adulthood. It had nearly killed the entire party. Its body was no bigger than a man. This one was the size of a horse. And smarter. Press the attack before it can breath again, that’s the trick.
The dragon leaps into the air and hovers, raising a storm of dust in the room.
“Air spirits grant you the gift of flight” incants Arilyn, and she touches Trajan’s shoulder. He feels the familiar lightness of a fly spell, and he accelerates up towards the creature, scimitar poised. He feels claws rake him as he closes to strike, but he calls upon the mighty power of Asura to smite evil and his blade bites deeply. Meliamne unlimbers his bow and strikes up a martial ballad, “The Dragonslayers of the Direwood” to encourage his friends. Anne-Marie runs across the room and scales the small tower with the aim of getting close enough to the hovering dragon to engage it; Bannor follows her lead.
Trajan and the dragon hang in mid air, swapping full attacks. Once again Trajan breaths thanks for the chain shirt of invulnerability which blunts the edge of the claw and wing attacks, although within a matter of seconds he is exhausted and more of the dragons blows draw blood.
Arilyn casts magic missile spells and Meliamne uses his bow, but both to little effect.
Anne-Marie is frustrated that the battle isn’t near enough to the tower she is on, so she jumps down to the shed, runs along the roof and launches herself into space, intent on grappling the flying dragons wings and bringing it down. Her plan nearly works, but the dragon manages to twist in the air and slap her down with one of its wings just before she reached it.
Trajan is in a quandary – he is sorely wounded, but he knows that retreating from the dragon would incur a possibly fatal AoO from its long neck. Suddenly he hears the voice of Bannor below him.
“Here, catch this!”
Bannor had been following the fight from his vantage point, cursing at his inability to affect the flying dragon. Noticing Trajans wounds becoming more and more severe he vaults off the platform he was standing on, runs underneath the hovering dragon and his flying friend and tosses up his only potion of Cure Serious Wounds.
Trajan snags the potion out of the air and the dragon surprisingly doesn’t take the opportunity to strike at him but folds it wings and plummets down and through the opening into the cavern which it first appeared from.
The whole party charges after it, through a short passage and into its lair where it is cornered and wounded. It breathes a stream of acid which catches Bannor flatfooted and sears the flesh from his bones before their very eyes. As they press their attack both Trajan and Anne-Marie miss the beast and it retaliates brutally – a fearsome bite takes Trajan out and leaves him dying on the cavern floor. Its wings lash at Anne-Marie, setting her up for a critical slash from one of its claws which disables her (0 hit points). Meliamne whispers an ancient elvish incantation and looses his arrow…
It flies true and catches the exhausted dragon right in the neck, causing it to slump forwards. With her last breath Anne-Marie staggers forward and makes a massive CDG attempt, driving her rapier between its scales and up into its black heart. As the creature shudders and expires the swordcoaster duellist also slumps forwards dying.
Meliamne finds himself the only one breathing properly in the vicinity, as Arilyn is still hiding back in the large cavern. He quickly prepares some of his healing potions and treats Trajan and Anne-Marie, stabilising them and bringing them back to consciousness. There is nothing that can be done for the blackened bones of their companion Bannor though. In the short while he has spent with them he has been both brave and resourceful, and will be sadly missed.
robberbaron
First Post
It was at this point, or rather when he regained conciousness, that Trajan realised where he had been going wrong.
Instead of toe-to-toeing with the Big Bad Gribbly he should be darting in and out of combat. Duh!
(Levelled up and gained Spring Attack)
Instead of toe-to-toeing with the Big Bad Gribbly he should be darting in and out of combat. Duh!
(Levelled up and gained Spring Attack)
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Plane Sailing
Astral Admin - Mwahahaha!
Around about this point I was rather hoping that Trajan would take Spring Attack, otherwise I just couldn't see him lasting out against any real big hitter monsters. It added another string to his tactical bow (hope I'm not mangling metaphors there)
Plane Sailing
Astral Admin - Mwahahaha!
Intermission/Introduction
A wizard in a darkened room turns to his friend.
“Well Taran, you know what the results of my divinations have been showing for some time now. Increasing instability in Singh at the hands of their new world order could wipe out your investments there, and your local man is having to keep his head down in the light of the recent upsurge of activity by the inquisition”
“The refugee problem that has been developing over the last year is starting to badly affect the Southlander nations too. Your holdings here in Morannon are secure, but the network is reporting a widespread reduction in trade due to the local uncertainties. Of course, there are also the criminal elements hiding amongst the refugees who are attempting to set up their own new thieves guilds and so forth, causing conflict with the established order.
“All in all, it’s bad for business and I project that we will need a substantial cash injection if we are to continue the growth which we had planned for our little enterprise. It’s back to adventuring again for us, Taran…”
“No, old friend” the slight figure by his side replies. “Not us. Me. You’re getting rather too old for risking your life in the dark places of this world, Dominic. AND” he forestalls the complaint forming on his friends lips.
“and you can work best with me in your laboratory here. You can keep in contact by scrying me twice a day through yon crystal ball and we can communicate via your Message spells. I can call upon your divinatory and research skills and you can report back to me your findings – and anything else that the network brings up that I need to know about.”
“Plus, you can be my ace in the hole, if things get really tough. After all, we bought that bunch of teleport scrolls for a reason, no?”
Dominic the diviner laughs. “I’d swear that you’ve been planning this whole thing for months, Taran. I really would. One day you’ll be too cunning for your own good” He wags his finger at his lightly built friend.
“Ah, Dominic. And that is the day when I’ll be glad for you being here, ready to pull my fat out of the fire”.
The two friends raise their glasses in a toast.
“Back to business” says Dominic. “I need a party of adventurers to work with. Have you found any good ones”
“Well, as you know I’ve been tracking such activity as I can through my divinations recently and there are three good candidate groups. One of them is not far from here – I last scried them over in Rastor, just the other side of the Seven Sisters range. Almost on our doorstep in fact. I believe they are intent on investigating the old crater ridge mines for some reason. That place has been a bit of a divination black spot for many years now and I can’t give you any decent background information on it I’m afraid”
“What are they like, this group?” Taran inquires.
“You’ll be able to see for yourself in a moment, when I fire up the crystal ball. Basically there is a big Jazumai of some kind – but unusually he is a Southlander, so history alone knows how he earned the white headband. He stands side by side with a big swordcoaster woman. Don’t be fooled by her size though – she is as quick as you are, and extraordinarily canny in combat with her rapier which she appears to have thoroughly mastered. The next woman is from the desert city of Mendonna, well known for its assassins although she doesn’t appear to tread that path. Indeed, it appears she is a wizard of power that probably exceeds my own, and she has recently unearthed the secrets of Arkon the Stormlord – I’d love to know what is in those documents!”
“Finally, and perhaps most strangely of all, they have recently been joined by – I kid you not Taran – an elf”
Taran raises an eyebrow.
“”No, really, I’m certain it is an elf” Dominic continues. “I know that nobody has actually seen elves for centuries, and their race was almost considered mythical, but for some reason I’ve not yet determined there is an elf adventuring with this group.”
Dominic makes mystic passes over his crystal ball and it goes cloudy and then clears, revealing the adventurers battered but breathing, standing over the corpse of a juvenile greed dragon.
“Dragon slayers too, I see” Taran whispers even though he knows they cannot hear him. “Send them a message, I’d like to meet these guys.”
DMsnote: For those who have been around since the early days, this is the player of Lysander returning to the gaming group. Taran is a charismatic, intelligent and dextrous rogue 8 (with relatively feeble strength, consitution and wisdom). He has the leadership feat, and Dominic is his cohort. The followers are his spy network scattered across the world. Half of them have been already allocated, and some are left unallocated to enable the player to say, in any human locale, "I'll contact my man here". I think the idea is working out quite cool at the moment
Cheers
A wizard in a darkened room turns to his friend.
“Well Taran, you know what the results of my divinations have been showing for some time now. Increasing instability in Singh at the hands of their new world order could wipe out your investments there, and your local man is having to keep his head down in the light of the recent upsurge of activity by the inquisition”
“The refugee problem that has been developing over the last year is starting to badly affect the Southlander nations too. Your holdings here in Morannon are secure, but the network is reporting a widespread reduction in trade due to the local uncertainties. Of course, there are also the criminal elements hiding amongst the refugees who are attempting to set up their own new thieves guilds and so forth, causing conflict with the established order.
“All in all, it’s bad for business and I project that we will need a substantial cash injection if we are to continue the growth which we had planned for our little enterprise. It’s back to adventuring again for us, Taran…”
“No, old friend” the slight figure by his side replies. “Not us. Me. You’re getting rather too old for risking your life in the dark places of this world, Dominic. AND” he forestalls the complaint forming on his friends lips.
“and you can work best with me in your laboratory here. You can keep in contact by scrying me twice a day through yon crystal ball and we can communicate via your Message spells. I can call upon your divinatory and research skills and you can report back to me your findings – and anything else that the network brings up that I need to know about.”
“Plus, you can be my ace in the hole, if things get really tough. After all, we bought that bunch of teleport scrolls for a reason, no?”
Dominic the diviner laughs. “I’d swear that you’ve been planning this whole thing for months, Taran. I really would. One day you’ll be too cunning for your own good” He wags his finger at his lightly built friend.
“Ah, Dominic. And that is the day when I’ll be glad for you being here, ready to pull my fat out of the fire”.
The two friends raise their glasses in a toast.
“Back to business” says Dominic. “I need a party of adventurers to work with. Have you found any good ones”
“Well, as you know I’ve been tracking such activity as I can through my divinations recently and there are three good candidate groups. One of them is not far from here – I last scried them over in Rastor, just the other side of the Seven Sisters range. Almost on our doorstep in fact. I believe they are intent on investigating the old crater ridge mines for some reason. That place has been a bit of a divination black spot for many years now and I can’t give you any decent background information on it I’m afraid”
“What are they like, this group?” Taran inquires.
“You’ll be able to see for yourself in a moment, when I fire up the crystal ball. Basically there is a big Jazumai of some kind – but unusually he is a Southlander, so history alone knows how he earned the white headband. He stands side by side with a big swordcoaster woman. Don’t be fooled by her size though – she is as quick as you are, and extraordinarily canny in combat with her rapier which she appears to have thoroughly mastered. The next woman is from the desert city of Mendonna, well known for its assassins although she doesn’t appear to tread that path. Indeed, it appears she is a wizard of power that probably exceeds my own, and she has recently unearthed the secrets of Arkon the Stormlord – I’d love to know what is in those documents!”
“Finally, and perhaps most strangely of all, they have recently been joined by – I kid you not Taran – an elf”
Taran raises an eyebrow.
“”No, really, I’m certain it is an elf” Dominic continues. “I know that nobody has actually seen elves for centuries, and their race was almost considered mythical, but for some reason I’ve not yet determined there is an elf adventuring with this group.”
Dominic makes mystic passes over his crystal ball and it goes cloudy and then clears, revealing the adventurers battered but breathing, standing over the corpse of a juvenile greed dragon.
“Dragon slayers too, I see” Taran whispers even though he knows they cannot hear him. “Send them a message, I’d like to meet these guys.”
DMsnote: For those who have been around since the early days, this is the player of Lysander returning to the gaming group. Taran is a charismatic, intelligent and dextrous rogue 8 (with relatively feeble strength, consitution and wisdom). He has the leadership feat, and Dominic is his cohort. The followers are his spy network scattered across the world. Half of them have been already allocated, and some are left unallocated to enable the player to say, in any human locale, "I'll contact my man here". I think the idea is working out quite cool at the moment
Cheers
Ouch...
Alex,
That hurts...ya gotta hate those instant kills
! Just getting caught up...you and the Missus getting any sleep these days? Your namesake is just past 10 months and walking is immenent...hide the breakables!
Looking forward to more...
~ Old One
Plane Sailing said:
Alex,
That hurts...ya gotta hate those instant kills
! Just getting caught up...you and the Missus getting any sleep these days? Your namesake is just past 10 months and walking is immenent...hide the breakables!Looking forward to more...
~ Old One
robberbaron
First Post
The instant kills sure do hurt (speaking as the player of Crail who was taken to exactly 0 CON through contact with poison - another charred black corpse 
).
I think we've only had 2 or 3 instant deaths, so at least PS isn't forming a habit.
).I think we've only had 2 or 3 instant deaths, so at least PS isn't forming a habit.
robberbaron
First Post
My first double post - I'm so proud.
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robberbaron
First Post
Ooh, ooh, a triple.
Jittery mouse finger coupled with 2-legged dog slow board.
Jittery mouse finger coupled with 2-legged dog slow board.
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