the Kyri Chronicles - last updated 22 Oct
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Plane Sailing
Astral Admin - Mwahahaha!
Hi Suele, thanks for posting! I'm glad you liked the story.
Regarding the nitpick... in the heat of combat, this was the reasoning:
The magic missiles were from his hasted partial action, after taking his normal action to dimension door.
I guess that it could be interpreted that you get absolutely no actions after a dimension door takes place, but our assumption was that it must means that in a normal round you can't dimension door as a standard action and then take a move action after you arrive (aka "hitting the ground running").
It won't matter for the future anyway, since we nixed haste
Cheers, and thanks!
Regarding the nitpick... in the heat of combat, this was the reasoning:
The magic missiles were from his hasted partial action, after taking his normal action to dimension door.
I guess that it could be interpreted that you get absolutely no actions after a dimension door takes place, but our assumption was that it must means that in a normal round you can't dimension door as a standard action and then take a move action after you arrive (aka "hitting the ground running").
It won't matter for the future anyway, since we nixed haste
Cheers, and thanks!
One of these days i'll be able to walk away from a fight at the end instead of being dragged out......i hope, and who knows maybe then one of my better spells will work too. 
Plane Sailing
Astral Admin - Mwahahaha!
A secret door is detected in the library, they decide to wait until they are recovered before proceeding further.
They make a pyre and burn Dala’s body. Of the magic items he carried, only his treasured ring of protection survived the inferno, and it is passed on to Arilyn. Boswell appears and summons his body to Garamon, for the final fight (explaining the deal that had been struck).
They re-enter the tower, go through the secret door and down a narrow, dripping corridor, to find a huge cavern. Dim light filters through the waterfall which blocks the entrance to the cavern. As their eyes become accustomed to the light they can see movement on the floor of the cavern. Lots of movement. One light spell later and the cavern is revealed to be full of hundreds of zombies, undead peasants from all the villages to the north of here, killed and gathered in this one place. This is the army which Dyson was building, this was his current plan for domination. The Devils ability to freely animate dead would have made it possible to raise a tremendous army had Knightsbridge been invaded!
The work of destroying the zombies is long and arduous. Once Trajan has exhausted all his capacity for channelling positive energy to destroy them, Arilyn takes her wand of lightning and starts blasting off charges as the zombies fruitlessly attempt to reach them. Eventually the cavern is still once more.
They camp that night some way down the river from Waterfang, discuss around the camp fire their memories of Dala – his impetuousness, his power, the funny things that he had done in the past. While talking, they heard some music coming from the south – the sound of a lute and a beautiful lilting song. Anne-Maries eyes easily pierce the moonlit night, and she can see a tall and slim figure strolling towards them. The figure waves, without breaking his tune until he comes with range of their torchlight. The song is familiar to both Anne-Marie and Trajan – it is the song of the elves which they met down in Ossington last year.
“Greetings, friends” smiles the elf. “Your tale has been told across many forests, and I have decided to rouse myself from my long ennui and join you in your quests – until such time as I find the way home or…” he trails off “some other reason”. He smiles again, especially favouring Anne-Marie. “Ah, it is true, you do have faerie blood in your veins”
He is full of stories and songs, yet he has a listening ear too as he dwells on the fall of Dala and composes an impromptu lament in his honour. He came with a greeting from the Lady of Ossington woods which identified him to them, and he is quickly welcomed into the company.
DMnote: this is the first elf PC in the campaign. These are not standard elves; those in this campaign use the planetouched (aasimar) stats and benefits, along with some of the more traditional elvish benefits. This makes them a +1 ECL class. Another difference is that they have favoured class: Bard, and all elves are bards (and only elves are bards until such time as a human gains training from them). This is a campaign flavour thing, and reflects the difference in their magic
next: The Blessed Returns!
They make a pyre and burn Dala’s body. Of the magic items he carried, only his treasured ring of protection survived the inferno, and it is passed on to Arilyn. Boswell appears and summons his body to Garamon, for the final fight (explaining the deal that had been struck).
They re-enter the tower, go through the secret door and down a narrow, dripping corridor, to find a huge cavern. Dim light filters through the waterfall which blocks the entrance to the cavern. As their eyes become accustomed to the light they can see movement on the floor of the cavern. Lots of movement. One light spell later and the cavern is revealed to be full of hundreds of zombies, undead peasants from all the villages to the north of here, killed and gathered in this one place. This is the army which Dyson was building, this was his current plan for domination. The Devils ability to freely animate dead would have made it possible to raise a tremendous army had Knightsbridge been invaded!
The work of destroying the zombies is long and arduous. Once Trajan has exhausted all his capacity for channelling positive energy to destroy them, Arilyn takes her wand of lightning and starts blasting off charges as the zombies fruitlessly attempt to reach them. Eventually the cavern is still once more.
They camp that night some way down the river from Waterfang, discuss around the camp fire their memories of Dala – his impetuousness, his power, the funny things that he had done in the past. While talking, they heard some music coming from the south – the sound of a lute and a beautiful lilting song. Anne-Maries eyes easily pierce the moonlit night, and she can see a tall and slim figure strolling towards them. The figure waves, without breaking his tune until he comes with range of their torchlight. The song is familiar to both Anne-Marie and Trajan – it is the song of the elves which they met down in Ossington last year.
“Greetings, friends” smiles the elf. “Your tale has been told across many forests, and I have decided to rouse myself from my long ennui and join you in your quests – until such time as I find the way home or…” he trails off “some other reason”. He smiles again, especially favouring Anne-Marie. “Ah, it is true, you do have faerie blood in your veins”
He is full of stories and songs, yet he has a listening ear too as he dwells on the fall of Dala and composes an impromptu lament in his honour. He came with a greeting from the Lady of Ossington woods which identified him to them, and he is quickly welcomed into the company.
DMnote: this is the first elf PC in the campaign. These are not standard elves; those in this campaign use the planetouched (aasimar) stats and benefits, along with some of the more traditional elvish benefits. This makes them a +1 ECL class. Another difference is that they have favoured class: Bard, and all elves are bards (and only elves are bards until such time as a human gains training from them). This is a campaign flavour thing, and reflects the difference in their magic
next: The Blessed Returns!
Plane Sailing
Astral Admin - Mwahahaha!
The Blessed Returns
The current party roster is as follows:
Trajan 2nd Fighter/5th Jazumai/3rd Sword Saint
Anne-Marie 6th Fighter/2nd Monk/ 1st Duellist
Meliamne 7th Elven Bard *
Arilyn 8th Wizard
Early in the morning, Trajan is woken by a female voice speaking inside his head.
“Where is my Dala? The door swings wide and I want him. Bring him to me now or face the consequences”
Trajan simply responds to the Sending “he died”.
He quickly gets to his feet and rouses the others. “We’re likely to have trouble any time now”
Suddenly four sickly emerald green blobs appear, floating and pulsating in the air above them. Pustules on their surface pop, and thin jets of hot acid squirt out towards individuals as they circle around.
Trajan and Meliamne prepare their bows, while Anne-Marie makes a prodigous leap, covering fully 30ft and striking at one of the blobs en-route. Her rapier pierces it and it pops and vanishes. Meanwhile another five of the pulsating blobs wink into existence.
A desperate dance ensues; Arilyn starts launching magic missiles, although cowed before the aura of menace exuded by the creatures. Trajan’s arrows slip through the blobs without causing any harm. Meliamne is gradually taking them down with her magic bow, as is Anne-Marie with her startling acrobatic leaps.
Suddenly the air is clear again, as the last of the blobs wink out suddenly. Nobody is untouched by the painful acidic scars, and Trajan calls upon Asura’s healing might to make the worst of the damage better.
There is one thought on everyone’s mind. The Blessed. Furthermore, she has increased in power enough to summon creatures capable of teleporting to a location which she is scrying. They are going to have to deal with her now before she becomes more powerful. Racking their brains, they remember information from the ruined temple of elemental evil that suggested she was heading towards Rastor.
Trajan remembers it as a proverbially “backwoods” mining community in Morannon. Meliamne can supply some additional details, in particular that there used to be some communication with a dwarvish community up in the mountains near them a few hundred years ago – the last time he came through this way.
The decision is made to head off to Morannon directly, rather than proceeding back to Knightsbridge as planned. Crossing the border into Morannon in the farmlands is relatively easy, but they join the road before they approach the town of Olduvor for the night.
On the road they met a young man with a small mule-wagon loaded with some bolts of cloth and spices heading in their direction. They strike up a conversation with him and find he is a Southlander called Bannon. He seems to turn his hand to any number of different activities – sometimes a merchant, sometimes a bounty hunter, sometimes a dilettante. He is soon accepted into the company as an equal, declaring that the cloth business has turned to dust recently anyway.
They arrive at Olduvor just before dusk, and they are viewed with suspicion by the guards, with their slicked-back black hair. Trajan’s diplomacy gets them inside, and they decide to make their way into a central plaza, where they find a tavern named the Sly Rat. It is overpriced and quite dirty, and the locals scowl at them over the tops of their mugs of ale.
Meliamne decides to lighten the atmosphere in the way that he normally would in the woodland parties he is used to, so he starts conjuring sparkles and musical notes from his fingertips. The response of the patrons is remarkable, as with a cries they all leap up and attempt to squeeze out through the door, all at once.
The innkeeper comes over with fear on his face, sweating heavily. “I’m very sorry, gentlemen, but I’m very much afraid that I was mistaken when I offered you rooms earlier. I’ve double checked and there are none actually free”
He’s wringing his hands.
“Please don’t think badly of me sirs, but my patrons have all fled scared and I fear that the very worst might happen. In fact I think I’d better be closing up now, if you’d be so kind as to drink up. Please my lords?”
He is obviously distressed, and they leave a pile of Marks on the table as they get up to leave. Entering the square there is quite a large crowd of people who are standing, watching the inn. The others are going to try to sneak away but Meliamne doesn’t want to leave the innkeeper out of pocket, and he sings a song which captivates the crowd, and weaves into it a suggestion that the inn is OK and that there had been a mistake by someone who was drunk. As he retires, he smiles to himself as he sees the crowd start to dissipate, some going back into the Sly Rat.
They retrieve their horses and manage to find their way through the unlit streets towards a coaching inn, named The Royal. Even more expensive, the party remain particularly circumspect and low profile, and avoid drawing any attention to themselves this time. They knew that Morannon was a country of dark secrets and old magic, but they little imagined that there might be such a strong reaction as they had seen here this night.
The next morning they set off for Rastor, and arrive in the evening to find it like a wild west outpost, along with saloon. Gathering information suggests that the mining is going down, but there are strange ochre-robed priests up at the crater ridge mines are hiring new toughs.
Trajan remembers that these were the guys that were linked with unspeakable evil and working with gnolls back in the moat house last year – back when the company comprised Lysander, Azrin, K’tan and M’ir and he had just joined the company.
Apparently although most of the traffic is through the main door into the old crater ridge mines, there are groups of these priests who use a lesser door to the North of the complex. A plan is laid to ambush some and steal their robes, so that they can sneak inside.
The current party roster is as follows:
Trajan 2nd Fighter/5th Jazumai/3rd Sword Saint
Anne-Marie 6th Fighter/2nd Monk/ 1st Duellist
Meliamne 7th Elven Bard *
Arilyn 8th Wizard
Early in the morning, Trajan is woken by a female voice speaking inside his head.
“Where is my Dala? The door swings wide and I want him. Bring him to me now or face the consequences”
Trajan simply responds to the Sending “he died”.
He quickly gets to his feet and rouses the others. “We’re likely to have trouble any time now”
Suddenly four sickly emerald green blobs appear, floating and pulsating in the air above them. Pustules on their surface pop, and thin jets of hot acid squirt out towards individuals as they circle around.
Trajan and Meliamne prepare their bows, while Anne-Marie makes a prodigous leap, covering fully 30ft and striking at one of the blobs en-route. Her rapier pierces it and it pops and vanishes. Meanwhile another five of the pulsating blobs wink into existence.
A desperate dance ensues; Arilyn starts launching magic missiles, although cowed before the aura of menace exuded by the creatures. Trajan’s arrows slip through the blobs without causing any harm. Meliamne is gradually taking them down with her magic bow, as is Anne-Marie with her startling acrobatic leaps.
Suddenly the air is clear again, as the last of the blobs wink out suddenly. Nobody is untouched by the painful acidic scars, and Trajan calls upon Asura’s healing might to make the worst of the damage better.
There is one thought on everyone’s mind. The Blessed. Furthermore, she has increased in power enough to summon creatures capable of teleporting to a location which she is scrying. They are going to have to deal with her now before she becomes more powerful. Racking their brains, they remember information from the ruined temple of elemental evil that suggested she was heading towards Rastor.
Trajan remembers it as a proverbially “backwoods” mining community in Morannon. Meliamne can supply some additional details, in particular that there used to be some communication with a dwarvish community up in the mountains near them a few hundred years ago – the last time he came through this way.
The decision is made to head off to Morannon directly, rather than proceeding back to Knightsbridge as planned. Crossing the border into Morannon in the farmlands is relatively easy, but they join the road before they approach the town of Olduvor for the night.
On the road they met a young man with a small mule-wagon loaded with some bolts of cloth and spices heading in their direction. They strike up a conversation with him and find he is a Southlander called Bannon. He seems to turn his hand to any number of different activities – sometimes a merchant, sometimes a bounty hunter, sometimes a dilettante. He is soon accepted into the company as an equal, declaring that the cloth business has turned to dust recently anyway.
They arrive at Olduvor just before dusk, and they are viewed with suspicion by the guards, with their slicked-back black hair. Trajan’s diplomacy gets them inside, and they decide to make their way into a central plaza, where they find a tavern named the Sly Rat. It is overpriced and quite dirty, and the locals scowl at them over the tops of their mugs of ale.
Meliamne decides to lighten the atmosphere in the way that he normally would in the woodland parties he is used to, so he starts conjuring sparkles and musical notes from his fingertips. The response of the patrons is remarkable, as with a cries they all leap up and attempt to squeeze out through the door, all at once.
The innkeeper comes over with fear on his face, sweating heavily. “I’m very sorry, gentlemen, but I’m very much afraid that I was mistaken when I offered you rooms earlier. I’ve double checked and there are none actually free”
He’s wringing his hands.
“Please don’t think badly of me sirs, but my patrons have all fled scared and I fear that the very worst might happen. In fact I think I’d better be closing up now, if you’d be so kind as to drink up. Please my lords?”
He is obviously distressed, and they leave a pile of Marks on the table as they get up to leave. Entering the square there is quite a large crowd of people who are standing, watching the inn. The others are going to try to sneak away but Meliamne doesn’t want to leave the innkeeper out of pocket, and he sings a song which captivates the crowd, and weaves into it a suggestion that the inn is OK and that there had been a mistake by someone who was drunk. As he retires, he smiles to himself as he sees the crowd start to dissipate, some going back into the Sly Rat.
They retrieve their horses and manage to find their way through the unlit streets towards a coaching inn, named The Royal. Even more expensive, the party remain particularly circumspect and low profile, and avoid drawing any attention to themselves this time. They knew that Morannon was a country of dark secrets and old magic, but they little imagined that there might be such a strong reaction as they had seen here this night.
The next morning they set off for Rastor, and arrive in the evening to find it like a wild west outpost, along with saloon. Gathering information suggests that the mining is going down, but there are strange ochre-robed priests up at the crater ridge mines are hiring new toughs.
Trajan remembers that these were the guys that were linked with unspeakable evil and working with gnolls back in the moat house last year – back when the company comprised Lysander, Azrin, K’tan and M’ir and he had just joined the company.
Apparently although most of the traffic is through the main door into the old crater ridge mines, there are groups of these priests who use a lesser door to the North of the complex. A plan is laid to ambush some and steal their robes, so that they can sneak inside.
Last edited:
Plane Sailing
Astral Admin - Mwahahaha!
Shockwave prodded me by email to remind me that Arilyn *did so* do something against the pulsating blobs, launching off magic missiles... so I've edited her slightly in the above section of story.
Hey, I'm working from 3 month old memory, so occasionally things slip through!
Cheers
Hey, I'm working from 3 month old memory, so occasionally things slip through!
Cheers
Plane Sailing
Astral Admin - Mwahahaha!
The adventure is just about to become:
Return to Return to the Temple of Elemental Evil!
Mwahahahaha!
Although it will be a shame to say goodbye to this nice long thread, I think it would be a good time to start a new thread for the new series of adventures.
Promise you'll show up?
Return to Return to the Temple of Elemental Evil!
Mwahahahaha!
Although it will be a shame to say goodbye to this nice long thread, I think it would be a good time to start a new thread for the new series of adventures.
Promise you'll show up?
Plane Sailing
Astral Admin - Mwahahaha!
Kyri Chronicles part 4 - (updated Oct 6th)
(All in piratespeak since it was originally posted on "talk like a pirate" day... and out of fun I think I'll leave it that way, even if I've turned the title back to normal)
Avast there me beauties!
The fourth part o' the Kyri Chronicles will be appearing here afore the sun dips below the yardarm!
Ye may be wanting to get up to date wi' a reading of the earlier exploits, and so's to help ye I'll be a-postin the links to previous scribin's
Kyri Chronicles part the first
In which a bunch of scallywags engage in sundry misdimenours, many diving head first 'to davy joneses locker, Arrrr.
Kyri Chronicles part the second
In which th' remaining scallywags cross swords with the Return t' th' temple o' elemental evil
Kyri Chronicles part the third
In which a group of scallywags sharing nought but their name with the original bilge rats encounter O' Sound Mind and sundry other encounters wi' Eeeeeeevil
And following now... a re-entry into said Temple, to keelhaul those Crater Ridge Mines.
Come now, ye swabs! Get readin!
(All in piratespeak since it was originally posted on "talk like a pirate" day... and out of fun I think I'll leave it that way, even if I've turned the title back to normal)
Avast there me beauties!
The fourth part o' the Kyri Chronicles will be appearing here afore the sun dips below the yardarm!
Ye may be wanting to get up to date wi' a reading of the earlier exploits, and so's to help ye I'll be a-postin the links to previous scribin's
Kyri Chronicles part the first
In which a bunch of scallywags engage in sundry misdimenours, many diving head first 'to davy joneses locker, Arrrr.
Kyri Chronicles part the second
In which th' remaining scallywags cross swords with the Return t' th' temple o' elemental evil
Kyri Chronicles part the third
In which a group of scallywags sharing nought but their name with the original bilge rats encounter O' Sound Mind and sundry other encounters wi' Eeeeeeevil
And following now... a re-entry into said Temple, to keelhaul those Crater Ridge Mines.
Come now, ye swabs! Get readin!
Last edited:
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