The Mistmusic Saga - Homebrewed Epic D&D (updated 22/7)

[CrazyGothBard]

The streets of Vendare were mostly empty, despite it being still early in the evening. There was no one to around to notice the four adventurers who teleported in, appearing in the street outside the offices of the city’s resident Archmage. The first thing the adventurers noticed was that there was a lot of mist around, much more than they had seen here previously. Many of the buildings around the tower looked like they had been struck by lightning, yet all were still standing. The city was strong. But enough about the city.

“Let’s do it,” said Skyr, and he knocked on the front door rhythmically for a while until a bemused middle-aged apprentice opened it. Skyr kept knocking on the open door until he finished with a flourish, and was about to open his mouth but Cassra spoke up first. “We’re here to see the Archmage Roland.”

“Do you have an appointment?” asked the apprentice.

“Um, no,” said Cassra apologetically. “But the Archmage will want to see us.”

The apprentice began to shake his head, but Skyr was alert and started speaking very quickly and gesticulating appropriately as he talked. “Hey pal, don’t mind our manners but we forgot the introductions! This is Cassra – see? Bluish skin, gills, bit of an outdoor type, but powerful fire-mage. She’s an Azu. Water-breathing fire-mage? Yeah, I know it seems unlikely but she’s awfully good at what she does. Anyway, she’s much more useful than a fire-breathing water-mage.”

“Yes, but-,” stammered the apprentice.

“This here Sauran guy with the little beady lizard eyes and the big pointy teeth?” continued Skyr as Wren grinned on cue, “He’s Wren. He likes hitting stuff, especially monsters. He’s also good at all that fiddly crap like locks and traps, and occasionally surprises us all, but there’s not much up top if you know what I mean.”

Wren stopped smiling. The apprentice had the despairing look of a kobold-in-a-sack that knows where the next pressure plate trap in the dungeon is located, and expects to end up getting squished. Skyr continued on regardless.

“And this one with the cute shoulder dragon is Shani, sorry, I should say Xi An Ni, but we all call her Shani and she doesn’t mind. She’s Chuan – you can tell by the eyes, I’m sure. She studied as a sorcerer like most Chuans, or so she says-,” he winked, “but then she got called by a ‘higher purpose’, Dragon Gods, blah blah blah, and now she defends the innocent, smites evil wherever she finds it, and occasionally punches the foolish,” he trailed off, rubbing his jaw slyly, which elicited a faint smile from Shani.

The apprentice fell for the bard’s trap. “And you would be?”

Ignoring Cassra’s sigh, Skyr rose to the occasion. “I am Skyr! I come from the land of the ice and snow, from the midnight sun where the hot springs flow! I am the greatest bard you ever met! Trust me, I’ve been to the future,” he finished conspiratorially.

“Are you quite finished?” snapped Wren.

“Uh, yeah, just about done, chill out big guy!” said Skyr, before turning back to the apprentice. “Just let young Roly know we’re here with that Deck he was interested in, OK pal?”

“OK…pal,” said the apprentice, as he smiled, nodded, and backed away slowly.

A short while later, the adventurers were sitting in the comfortable offices of Roland the Archmage. After a few moments which Skyr filled by whistling expertly (much to everyone’s annoyance), a thin lad of about seventeen entered the room.

“Yikes!” exclaimed Skyr. “You’ve aged five years in barely a month!”

“It’s true,” said Roland. “I’ve had a lot of work to do lately, given the incursions from the Freyan skyships and with Archmage Alron’s vast army of golems devastating the countryside under the cover of all this mist.”

“Well, we did mention it when we were here last,” said Cassra.

“Yes, I remember that,” Roland nodded. “I thought you were going to be gone for just a day messing about in a skyship before bringing me the Deck?”

The other three looked at Skyr . “Ah, yeah. Well, things got a little…complicated. The ship got stolen by Thune ninjas. They took it back to the Desert of Desolation where we were bound by the curse of Martek, so no dimensional magic. Quite unexpectedly I turned out to be the Chosen One of Thunish prophecy.”

His voice now swelled grandiosely, briefly full of self-importance. “I am He who will bring the Tides of Change to the Desert.”

“I read something about that once when I was older,” said the Archmage. “Say, doesn’t that also mean you’re the Tool of an Ancient Evil?”

Skyr suddenly developed a nasty cough. “Er…ah…uhm…ahem…I, er, swung it all into a bit of a promotional tour. Ended up freeing some giant flaming guy – not the most popular decision, granted. But I fixed that by summoning a giant blue guy to take him on – heck of a fight, let me tell you! Did anyone thank me? Nope. The fight just kept on going…so we found Martek’s tomb and got the curse lifted. Now everything’s just fine. Anyway, we’ve got your Deck of Many Things right here, pal! Cassra, you’ve got it, right?”

Cassra nodded, and produced the ornate box from her backpack. Roland looked like there was still something on his mind, but was nevertheless pleased to see the artifact. “Thank you, all! This will greatly aid our research into probability magic.”

He reached for the box and was surprised when Skyr slapped his hand away. “Uh-uh! Remember our deal? We wanted maps to the lost caverns of Sod-you-canth.”

“Tsojcanth,” corrected the Archmage.

“Whatever. There’s also some other things you can help us with – Wren wants a new toy, he’s bored with his vorpal blade. Cassra’s looking for new spells, and I’ve got a bit of an idea for a new fashion accessory…then we’ll get out of your way. How does that sound?”

“That sounds good,” said Roland. “Just one thing is still bothering me…how did you lift the curse of Martek?”

“I didn’t lift it,” said Skyr. “He did.”

“Who did?”

“Martek.”

“But Martek is dead,” said the Archmage, as a look of alarm spread across his face. “Isn’t he?”

“I resurrected him. He was holding the Desert Moon hostage, which is the antithesis of my religion,” Skyr said flatly. “I gave him his life back, he released the Moon and banished the two big Djinn. That’s two favours for the price of one, anyone would be happy with that!”

“Right then, here are your maps. My apprentices will assist with your additional requirements,” said the Archmage hurriedly. “Please go while I’m still in shock. Now.”


Next: New toys, preliminary investigations, maybe even an encounter!

 

[CrazyGothBard]

New toys for the boys, and a disturbed hermit.

A week later the group was ready to go. Cassra, Wren & Shani were actually ready after the first day, despite Wren making a highly debatable trade of a Keen dagger for a Stormbrand spear of lesser focused magic. They expected Skyr to launch a withering tirade at the Sauran who was constantly in debt due to the cards that the Deck had dealt him. Instead, Skyr was busy for an entire week in the artisans’ district. Cassra dictated a Sending demanding the bard’s attendance at breakfast on the seventh day, and he responded by asked Shani to pack for him (the only surprising part of this request was that the bard didn’t come up with a dubious reason for it).

Wren and the girls were sitting in a tavern when Skyr walked in. “What happened to your face?” asked Wren, somewhat alarmed.

Skyr ran his fingers across his cheeks self-consciously. “Did I cut myself shaving?”

“No, you twit!” snapped Wren. “What are those black things over your eyes?”

“Oh, these!” Skyr grinned. “They’re my new invention! I call them sunglasses. I look pretty cool, hey?”

The bard began posing to show off his new accessory. Shani smiled appreciatively, but didn’t say anything. Wren looked from a couple of different angles in a typically Sauran fashion, then grunted as non-committally as he could – the bard did look rather stylish. Cassra scanned the sunglasses magically, then nodded. “Very impressive. Charm spell, and something else as well. Where did you get the components?”

Skyr took the glasses off. “Mithral frames, taken from that golem we fought in Martek’s tomb. The lenses I took from the edge of the Sea of Glass back in the Desert of Desolation. That other magical effect you noticed, well…let’s try it out. Pretend I’m a total poser and cast Ray of Enfeeblement at me – you can do that, right?”

“I don’t have to pretend,” said Cassra dryly.

“Right then. Now I just say the magic word,” Skyr put a hand over his mouth and mumbled something, then continued. “And now you do it.”

Cassra cast the spell at Skyr. The sunglasses glowed brightly for a second. Cassra stared. “You’re immune!”

Skyr grinned again. “Like I said, pretty cool, hey?”

Wren grunted. “I overheard your magic word. Is there any significance to the word Rayban?”

Skyr shook his head. “Nah, it just sounded good at the time.”

After breakfast, the group formulated their plans. They took a private room at the tavern, then Skyr sanctified a rather ornate bowl of water, and scried the mountain range using the Archmage’s map as a focus. There were six locations marked on the map, spread out over the mountain range. Each was an entrance to caves in the region. The first location showed a large cave inhabited by a small clan of frost giants. The second showed a rather unkempt old man singing to himself and scrawling words on the wall of his smallish cave. The third view was of a high pass with a crevice to one side, and with a pair of nesting wyverns in close proximity. Next was a series of shallow caves and recesses in a valley, which were occupied by primitive tribesmen. The fifth scrying was a bit confusing for Skyr – he momentarily got the impression he was on a ship, then realised he was looking down from above a Freyan mistship, crewed by an assortment of goblins, bugbears and trolls. Skyr tried to get a better look at the scene, moving around to view it from different angles but accidentally bumped the bowl, spilling the water and losing the opportunity to scry upon the last potential entrance to the caves.

“So, what do we do now?” asked Wren.

“Let’s go visit the old man,” replied Skyr. “He’d probably welcome a bit of conversation.”

Cassra scoffed at the suggestion. “The last old man we met was a gibbering idiot who nearly got us all killed…twice!”

“That gibbering idiot also guided us to the Tomb of the Lizard King,” countered Skyr. “Occasionally you have to trust people like that.”

“Yes…occasionally,” said Shani with the hint of a smile.

The hermit was busy meditating in his cave when his extra-sensory perceptions noted the sudden arrival of seven minds at close range. Four were sentient humanoids, two were magically aware animals (an otter and a frog), and the last was a dragon. The hermit quickly scanned their motivations – all except one were basically good, and the dragon was thankfully part of the majority. The hermit focused his psionic powers upon the exception to the rule, and found an intriguingly complex mind, able to formulate intricate plans at a moment’s notice, then discard them just as quickly. A person who could off-handedly betray the trust of close friends in the short term because he had unshakeable confidence in his ability to redeem himself. A romantic bard who was conflicted between guilt over a past affair, and the looming potential of a new one. This was going to be a tiresome morning, thought the hermit, as he began to hear the approach of his visitors.

“Hey you! Wise old man! How’re you doing?” came Skyr’s greeting.

The old man looked startled. “Spare me! I have nothing of value, and barely enough food to last you for a day.”

The tension in the air vanished. The old man could sense that any susspicions the adventurers had about him were gone. The bard who was the slightly intriguing leader showed his open palms and grinned. “No, it’s alright. We’re just here to talk. You look like a wise man. My name’s Skyr. I’m not from around here – I’m an Asper, you know the cold bits up north?”

“Shouldn’t your hair be silver, or white like your skin?”, asked the hermit quizzically.

“I decided I prefer black.”

“That’s…interesting,” said the hermit. “I prefer solitude. Go away, please.”

The female Azu – her name was Cassra, he sensed - spoke up. “Is there anything we can offer you in exchange for information?”

The hermit glanced at her, and his eyes widened slightly as he perceived her powerful magical aura. “Not that I can think of.”

Skyr perceived what he thought was a crack in the hermit’s gruff persona. Looking around at the sparsely decorated cave which had a ramshackle air to it, he spoke up. “We could offer you a servant? Someone to tidy the place up a bit, attend to the cooking and cleaning. How does that sound?”

The hermit was momentarily baffled. He then realised that the bard was baiting his friends. “I don’t know what to say…I have no real interest in aesthetic appearance.”

Shani’s eyebrow was arched. The hermit’s keen mind noted the beautiful paladin’s interest in the bard, solving that part of the puzzle. But Cassra spoke up first. “What? You’re offering him a paladin to do the cooking and cleaning?”

Wren had been standing quietly in the background and now began to chortle, which was the Sauran equivalent of laughing hysterically.

“Definitely not!”, said Skyr indignantly. “I’m offering Wren…we won’t need a lock-picker in a cavern complex, will we?”

Wren stopped chortling suddenly. Shani smiled, although mostly from relief. “I think we may need Wren for other things besides lock-picking, Skyr.”

“Oh yes, that’s right,” agreed Skyr. “Charging psychotically into battle, check. Kind of important that it’s someone other than me.”

The hermit had now had enough time to scan the group’s thoughts for their material possessions. The Azu mage Cassra possessed an ancient artifact, a rod made of the magical material aurium which was aspected towards fire magic. She also had a ring of invisibility, but the psion could tell that she would give neither item away lightly. The Sauran called Wren had a new spear of the Stormbrand variety, but the hermit had no interest in weapons other than his own mind. The Chuan paladin Shani had an interesting mirror – it increased her attractiveness, and had a few mirror-themed magical abilities. The bard’s “sunglasses” were interesting, but since the hermit was more interested in escaping attention than drawing it to himself, he overlooked them. Then he detected something useful. “Look, I don’t know how you found me or how you got here, but I like to be alone, and ignore the rest of the world. I would also like the rest of the world to ignore me, including nice people like yourselves – nothing personal, but I am a hermit…”

“OK then!” exclaimed Skyr. “To answer your questions…we found you by scrying these mountains for the Lost Caverns of Tsojcanth, and we got here through Cassra’s teleportation spell.”

“You’re not gods, are you?”, asked the hermit, looking somewhat alarmed.

“Um,” began Skyr before Cassra interjected sharply. “No!”

Shani coughed politely. “Skyr, don’t you and the others have some invisibility dust?”

Skyr nodded. “That we do! That’s probably exactly what you need, eh? Let’s haggle!”



Next time: Against the giants? Which adventure is this, anyway?

 

[MoFo]

GM Notes

Note from the GM:

In the 1st ed module "The Lost Caverns of Tsocanth" the mad hermit is quoted as being a psionic with one power to mess with the PCs if they are mean to him... in true anti-munchkin style.

Naturally enough for my Epic 3rd Ed upgrade, he became a 20th level Psionic. As I don't have the psionics handbook, I was planning on simply making it up as I went along...

As the party decided to treat the not quite so harmless old man as what he appeared to be, the encounter simply had a subtext that I told the players about after it was over. MadGothBard has done a nice trick of viewing the encounter from the NPC's perspective here, Kudos.

PS yes, Skyr really is like that. Some how he manages to pull it off... a Chaotic Neutral Bard/Cleric with a Paladin sidekick (!).

MoFo

Just smile, and nod, and back away slowly...

 

[CrazyGothBard]

More investigation, and a quick fight!

For three bags of Dust of Disappearance, the hermit proved to be fairly informative.
The caverns were said to be somewhere below an odd-shaped mountain known as Iggwilv’s Horn. Iggwilv was a sorceress from long ago, now deceased (“Let’s hope she stays that way!” muttered Wren). The caverns were a powerful magical nexus, which was so strong that magical effects in the area had a tendency to be drawn down into it. The hermit was less able to advise on current events, apart from being aware of, and afraid of, the clan of frost giants that were higher up in the mountains. Cassra suggested that the group investigate the giants. They bade farewell to the hermit, with Shani using her sorcery to cast Invisibility on Skyr, Wren and herself, as Cassra first cast the Message spell, then teleported them to a spot near the location of the giant clan based on Skyr’s description of the area. They arrived amidst some trees, with a good view of the large clearing where several frost giants were preparing a meal which appeared to be roasting large chunks of meat on skewers over a large fire. There were sounds of other giants coming from within a large cave on the other side of the clearing. The largest frost giant was overseeing the cooking process, and had a relatively small white dragon perched on his shoulder. The adventurers whispered plans to each other for a bit, when suddenly Wren heard something. “What’s that noise?”

There was a strange bubbling sound coming from the ground beneath them. Cassra cast the Fly spell and grabbed Wren, while Skyr instinctively grabbed Shani around the waist and used his boots of levitation to ascend to an overhead branch. From beneath where the bard had been standing, the ground steamed and melted as a five foot long wormlike creature glowing with heat burst through the ground and launched itself up at the levitating pair. This attracted the attention of the frost giant jarl, and he looked towards the area of the disturbance. “THE THOQQUA FELT SOMETHING!” he bellowed.

The adventurers held their positions perched in trees and comfortable in their invisibility. Then the jarl cast a spell, which enabled Cassra to identify him as a sorcerer. As for the spell, the sorcerer pointed directly at Skyr, and bellowed again. “YOU THERE! I SEE YOU! IF YOU COME DOWN, I KILL YOU! IF YOU STAY IN TREE, DRAGON KILL YOU! YOU MAKE CHOICE NOW, I’M HUNGRY!”

“Let me think about it, alright?” said Skyr, making himself visible in order to provide a distraction for his friends. Half a dozen more frost giants came out of the cave, making a total of thirteen. Skyr held up both hands like claws and waved them over his head, mock-menacingly. “By the power of the Moon goddess, I command you. Flee!”

Eight of the giants panicked and ran back into their cave. The Jarl looked a bit perturbed, and so wasn’t expecting Cassra to appear and charm him.

“There’s no need for roughness,” she said calmly but loudly, making sure everyone could hear.

“NO NEED FOR ROUGHNESS! NICE BLUE GIRL SAYS SO!” the Jarl bellowed. The giants that hadn’t fled lowered their weapons.

“I just want to ask you some questions, if that’s alright?” asked Cassra politely.

“That’s alright, I want to give you answers,” said the Jarl loudly, but at least he had stopped bellowing.

“We’re looking for a mountain called Iggwilv’s Horn. Have you heard of it?”

“No. Are you friends with scary man up there?” said the Jarl, pointing at Skyr. “I DON’T LIKE HIM!” he bellowed again.

“Yes, he is a friend. He’s not scary very often if you get to know him,” replied Cassra.

“The mountain we’re looking for is shaped like a horn. Is that more familiar to you?”

“Oh, Horn Mountain!” exclaimed the Jarl, pleased to be helping his new friend. “Four thousand strides south of the fork in the mountain pass!”
“Thanks, you’re very helpful,” said Cassra. “How about if you and your friends go check on the others in the cave?”

“Alright. If you go to Horn Mountain, be careful. It’s a strange place. Magic goes down!” said the Jarl, as he walked into the cave.

“OK, that’s all we need to know,” said Wren over the message spell. “Let’s kill the monsters and get going.”

Cassra turned away from the Jarl to talk via Message. “But…they’re not affecting anyone! Why don’t we just put signs up warning travelers to keep away?”

Shani disagreed. “They’re evil! What do you think they’re cooking on the skewers? We have to kill them before they kill anyone else!”

Cassra looked up to Skyr standing in the tree. “Don’t you think we can just leave them alone?”

Skyr looked from Cassra to Shani, and back, and weighed up the options briefly.
“Hmmm…he was going to kill me. I’ll show him how scary I am!”

He turned towards the Jarl. “Hey you, big chief! Die painfully by the wrath of the Moon Goddess!”

The Jarl met his Destruction, exploding in a burst of silver fire. His shoulder dragon familiar was startled to lose its master so suddenly, and fell to the ground. Now that the decision had finally been made, Shani hasted herself and jumped down to engage the other two giants, swinging her naginata skillfully. Wren cast Expeditious Retreat and leapt out of his tree and straight into the giants’ cave, which echoed with the thunder of his Stormbrand. Cassra sighed heavily, and then cast Horrid Wilting on the remaining giants and the dragon, felling it and seven of the giants in one go. Skyr took his time levitating down to the ground. The Horrid Wilting enabled Shani and Wren to finish off the remaining giants quickly.

Afterwards, in the back of the cave they found the bodies of a man, woman and children dressed in the manner of the primitive tribesmen they had scried upon elsewhere in the mountains. Skyr looked at Cassra, and decided it was best to just change the subject. “Let’s just get going. We’ve got at least eight thousand strides to go, how about we fly there?”


Coming up next: Hot girl-on-girl action! But not what you’re thinking…