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The Realms of Enlightenment: The Grey Companions


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old school 1E said:
I'll enjoy every word as I wait.

and

Funeris said:
Ditto here. Keep it up Jon.

Thanks for the kind words, both of you. It really is very nice to hear encouragement from readers.

That was a great update.

My players weren't quite so enthusiastic. The feared term, TPK, was raised by one of them relatively early on. Long before it was a foregone conclusion... one way or the other. ;)
 

"My players weren't quite so enthusiastic. The feared term, TPK, was raised by one of them relatively early on. Long before it was a foregone conclusion... one way or the other. "


Um... That doesn't bode well now does it???
 



Vade let out a frightened squeal and fumbled a vial of alchemist's fire free of his belt pouch. He'd drawn back to throw when the thing flowed at right angles to the halfling and still managed to bite at him from behind. Vade's nerves were operating on the raw edge, however, and he dodged the attack uncannily. The toothy maw snapped shut beside him and he tossed the flask at the writhing mass of chaos that he assumed was the rest of its body. To his horror, the creature flickered and the flask sailed completely through its body and exploded against the blue green tile on the far edge of the pool.

Grisham roared in pain as liquid fire splashed across his back.

Morier seized the opportunity to get to his feet. There was little strength left in him, but he intended to spend what there was chopping this horror into tiny pieces. His hands clasped down on the grip of his silver greatsword and with a roar borne of equal parts rage and frustration, he unleashed the power of the storm that lurked within him, bringing the electrified weapon up in a glittering arc that split the lumpy mass before him. Lightning arced between the thing and Morier and then the creature's body collapsed back into the pool. The smell of ozone filled the room and acrid smoke rose from the sizzling corpse, competing with the unwholesome stench that already pervaded the chamber.

Grisham shrugged free of his smoldering cloak and drove his longsword into what he thought was the creature's head. "Come! Gut the thing! " he urged. "Quickly! They may yet live within!"

As if to lend credence to his statement, a concussive roar issued from within the thing and a gout of flame licked from between the creature's closed jaws. A swollen lump appeared amidst the lunatic coils, and stretched as if something within desired freedom.

"There!" Grisham bellowed, gesturing with his handaxe at the lump. Vade jumped on it at once.

"Out of my way, you biggins!" he cried, brandishing his shortsword. "I need to save Feln and the rest of the party!" He stabbed his shortsword home, tearing away a chunk of indescribably flesh and revealing Ixin's acid-ravaged arm. Morier grabbed her hand and pulled her free with a wet slucking sound. She landed in the pool with a groan and a splash.

There was a supernatural light burning in her eyes. Smoke still rose from her open mouth.

"None of you are any fun to get into trouble with... what would I do without my good buddy Feln?" Vade was saying as he continued to work on the corpse with his sword. Grisham joined him, widening the rent with double-handed blows from his handaxe. Karak's foot appeared and Morier grabbed it and pulled, yanking the dwarf free after a bit of tugging. His body was limp from paralysis, but his eyes were still alive and blazing with divine fervor. His craggy features had suffered greatly from acid burns, but he was incredibly hardy and in no great danger from his injuries. Morier propped him up against the side of the pool.

Ixin sucked down a healing potion and got to her feet, feeling the ice water rush of healing suffuse her.

"Well, I do like the rest of you... well... most of you," the halfling was saying as he worked feverishly to split the beast open further. "But no one deserves to be eaten whole by a creature like this!"

Without a word, Ixin moved up to lend her sickle to the process begun by Grisham and Vade and between the three of them, they soon had Ledare's armored feet exposed. Morier grabbed hold of her ankles and dragged her free of the beast's foul innards. She horribly disfigured by the creature's caustic secretions; whole patches of skin and the flesh beneath were burned away, leaving red and dripping wounds everywhere on her body. There was very little life left in her and Morier poured two potions of Cure Light Wounds down her throat before he felt that she was stable enough for him to turn his attention back to the work of the others.

They were making good progress. Vade in particular seemed possessed as he worked, and he ranted as he sliced... and sliced... and sliced. "No one deserves to have their finger chopped off for looking at a pretty necklace or put in a yucky jail for almost three years!" he screamed as his blade hacked away chunks of foul-smelling meat. Tears began to squirt from his eyes. "What a horrible world this is... I want my mama!"

"There!" Grisham gasped, pointing further into the thing's ruptured belly. There was Feln's foot, the heel of his elven boot eaten clear through. Morier moved in, grabbed it with both hands and heaved.

The foot came free, trailing a length of liquifying bone and dissolved flesh. Morier landed in the water, holding his grisly prize in horror.

Vade began to wail and for a moment that was the only sound audible in the chamber. Then Grisham grunted and looked unbelievingly at the brutalized corpse of the impossible creature. He stepped quickly forward and jerked his longsword free of the body.

"By the Wolf Spirit! What manner of hellspawn is this?!" he said, his face gone nearly as pale as Morier's. "I think it's still regenerating!"
 

Vade let out a high-pitched battlecry that sounded at least partly a shriek of despair and drove his shortsword into the thing's filigreed flesh. "Die!" he cried. "Why! Won't! You! Die!" Eacxh word was punctuated by another thrust of his little sword. Tears were streaming down his round cheeks and his eyes blazed with a rage inspired by loss. Morier and Grisham - who both understood the meaning of loss and the need of powerful emotion to be free - did nothing to intervene. The eldritch warrior drank a potion and Grisham grimly joined the halfling in hacking the unwholesome mess into smaller and ever smaller chunks.

Ixin, however, had spent most of her life amongst beings whom she detested and had learned to bottle her own emotions deep within her scaled breast. She knew nothing of rage apart from an abstract idea and so she reached out and grabbed Vade's sword arm. Or tried to. The magic of the halfling's ring made him impossible to grab and his arm slipped free of her grasp as if it were greased.

"Vade," she said and got no sign that he'd heard her. She yelled louder, "Vade!" and he turned to look up at her, his face twisted with heartbreak. "Feln's gone, Vade," she told him and the halfling seemed to wilt at the realization. "We need to check out the rest of this room so that his sacrifice was not in vain."

"But the monster..." he started to counter and Morier lifted his greatsword in both hands.

"Don't worry," the albino told him. "Grisham and I will make sure it doesn't go anywhere." And so saying, he brought the silver blade down in a massive overhead chop that sent gobbets of jellified flesh flying in all directions.

Ixin lay her hand on Vade's shoulder and stepped in front of him. "Let me go first," she said. "I've a spell I wish to cast."



Unsurprisingly, the results of Ixin's Recent Occupant divination were the same as in the shack above: Tarawyn Alusiil, Archdruid overlaid with Melengar the Black, First Bishop of Aphyx. The target of their search had indeed come this far which was encouraging. What they found at the raised area was not.

The rocky outcropping at the rear of the chamber was covered in slime and filth presumably left by the mucky creature that both Grisham and Morier were laying into with powerful double-handed swings of their swords. The footing around the raised area was slightly unsteady for Ixin, but posed no difficulty at all for the nimble halfling. The shattered remains of a small stone cairn which had sat near the wall in the center of the platform lay scattered about. From the remaining portion of the stone box Vade speculated that it originally measured about three feet long by one foot wide and was formed from a single block of granite that was been melded into rock of the platform itself.

"It'd take some kind of magic to do this," he told Ixin as he checked for some kind of seam between the box and the rest of the cairn. There was none. It was as if the box and the cairn were carved from a single piece of stone although neither showed signs of sculptor's tools.

"Look here," Ixin urged, pointing toward the wall behind the cairn. "Is that writing?"

"Could be," Vade replied, holding his little glowing dagger higher to shed more light on the wall. There was definitely something carved there, but it was covered in filth, as if someone had recently made a point of obscuring the lettering. Together he and Ixin scraped aside the muck revealing a lengthy message carved in strange runes.

"Hey!" Vade exclaimed. "I've seen that writing before. It's druidic!"

"I thought that the druids kept knowledge of their language strictly secret," Ixin said. "Unless druids on this world are very different from druids on Mid'Gaard."

"No. It's a secret all right," Vade said without further explanation. "Let's see if I can't figure out what it says."



Karak came out of his paralysis with an oath on his lips: "Let me take the fight to them, my Queen, and I will show you the strength of a dwarven Battleguard of Shaharizod!" Hearing his own voice, he shook himself with a start and got arduously to his feet. Morier and Grisham both stopped what they were doing and looked over at the dwarf.

"You're up?!" Morier said with a sardonic smile. He and Karak clasped forearms and the dwarf harrumphed.

"Aye," he said as he looked critically at the scraggly ends of his once luxurious beard. "But my beard'll nae be the same ag'in. What of Feln an' Ledare?"

"The greenskin's gone," Grisham said bluntly as he wiped sweat off his brow. "The half-elf's-"

"I'll live," Ledare said gruffly as she too began to get to her feet. Both Morier and Karak offered their hands to aid her in rising and she roughly brushed them both aside. "I said I'm alright!" she growled and pointed at the prurient mass behind the albino. "You should burn that. I can see it even now trying to grow back where you stopped hacking at it."



An unwholesome stench like burning feces filled the chamber as Morier's Wand of Burning Hands did its work. It took several applications of cleansing fire, but eventually the thing stopped regenerating and the group was confident that it was well and truly dead. They breathed a collective sigh of relief until Vade and Ixin rejoined them. Neither of them looked very pleased.

"Uh, guys," Vade said. "I don't think you're gonna like this."

Ixin held up the message she had transcribed while Vade translated off the wall. With a gulp, she read it aloud. "Be it known that herein lies the power of corruption incarnate sent to Erlacor by the queen of decay and thus by its entombment shall it remain evermore unfelt in the world. Once more does the cycle run through life and death and life and so it shall continue in its symmetry from this day until the end of all days, unbiased by the Tainted One's influence "

"The ancient evil that the treant was talking about," Morier guessed and Ixin nodded her agreement.

"Except the box's been broken open and whatever was inside is gone," Vade announced. "We're too late."
 

[Realms #295] Up From the Depths

"So this... thing... What was it here for?" Morier asked, nudging with his boot the charred remains of the anarchic monstrosity floating in the pool beside him. "I mean if the Bishop took the evil artifact, why summon this thing?"

"Mayhap to kill us?" Ixin suggested but Grisham shook his head savagely and stalked to the edge of the pool.

"It was here to cover his back," the barbarian growled. "To guard his retreat!" He dropped into a crouch and began searching the sludge-caked tiles for Tarawyn's tracks. Karak grunted in such a way that acknowledged the possibility that Grisham might be right.

"Well, whate'er the case, no jelly belly can hold a dwarf, that be for certain!" Karak stated proudly, thumping his axe against his breastplate. The hollow clang sounded overloud in the foul-smelling chamber. "But, that being said, I do appreciate all yer efforts to get us out."

"We couldn't very well leave you in there," Morier replied. "You might have died." The last word hung in the air like the tolling ring of a bell. Vade started crying again.

"Roofdrak take you!" Grisham roared and hurled a bit of broken rock at the far wall.

"What is it?" Ixin asked and the barbarian threw another hunk of stone before replying.

"The trail just stops here at this cairn!" he growled, his lip curled into a bestial snarl.

"Let me see this cairn, 'ere," Karak suggested as he waded over to the edge of the pool and clambered out. He eyed it for but a moment before giving his assessment. "It be like no cairn I seen before. The rock 'ere seems to be melded together - unnaturally, I might add."

"So you can tell nothing?" Grisham grumbled. "I thought that dwarves were more cunning than any race when it came to stone."

"Aye. We are that!" Karak agreed. "An' I did nae say I could tell nothing. 'Tis the work of a Stone Shape spell such as the druids back in the delve'd use from time to time."

"Druids?" Grisham asked. "What would a druid be doing in a dwarven citadel? They're all about trees and nature."

"An' what could be more natural'n the very stone beneath yer feet, tracker?" Karak countered. "My people've a druidic tradition what stretches back to before yers knew how to start a fire! Why the Rock Wardens and Stonelords of Dwurheim'd put to shame any one of the tree-hugging druids ye beardless goblin spawn'd care to point out!" The dwarf was mere feet from Grisham, yelling up into the man's chest. Grisham just nodded in response to Karak's diatribe and gestured toward the shattered cairn.

"Is that all you can tell?" the barbarian asked with a scowl. "Or would you like to stand here and argue about druids all day?"

"Hmpf!" Karak grunted and turned back toward the broken stone box. "This cairn once be for good, I sense; now it be desecrated. Lemme see, what did Malak used to do when he came upon a desecrated place?" Karak rummaged under his gorget for his brother's holy symbol, and raised it up, dramatically. The tiny silver object seemed to catch what little light there was in the chamber and reflect it back like a twinkling star Karak had somehow plucked from the night sky.

"At one time this was once blessed; let it be blessed once more," the dwarf said, brandishing the holy symbol at the cairn. "I am a Battleguard of Shaharizod. Let it be as I say." There was no clear sign that anything had been accomplished, but Karak felt better, anyway. He quickly tucked away the holy symbol, rubbed his singed beard and grew red in the cheek, feeling suddenly as if all eyes were upon him.

"Yeah... well, I know what ye all be thinkin'. And... Malak would have said it better for sur'ya. Now, anyone find a secret way outta here? A bolt hole as Windstryder would 'ave said?" The dwarf smirked and Vade forced a smile onto his lips, rubbing a tear off his cheek.

"Or a butt hole as Feln would have said," he squeaked and began crying anew.

"I'll look," Grisham groaned, rolling his eyes.

"As will I," Morier agreed, shooting Grisham a disapproving look.

"Me too, Ixin said and she urged Vade to accompany her.

They spread out and began checking the floors and walls carefully for any hidden panels, leaving Karak and Ledare alone in the center of the room. The Janissary was sitting, slumped on the edge of the pool with her feet still in the fetid water. Her helmet, shield and sword lay beside her on the tiles. Despite the multiple healing potions she'd drunk, she looked a fright, but her face betrayed no pain. In fact it seemed largely bereft of any emotion at all.

"Ledare, lemme see how your plate armor withstood the acid wash of the beast," Karak called as he trundled around the pool toward her. She didn't move. Didn't even acknowledge his suggestion. As he tugged at edge of her breastplate, she jerked bonelessly, but made not a sound. Karak didn't seem to notice. "Hmmm... the straps seem sound, but a little worn. Next respite we have, lemme tend to yer armor, Lassie. Now that you be swinging that nasty sword in the fore, yer armor needs to be in shape, eh?"

Ledare said nothing in reply. She just stared ahead at the black and smoking remains of the impossible thing. Karak harrumphed and turned his back to her.

"Can ye inspect my back plates?" he asked over his shoulder and received no response. So he raised his voice and barked, "Ledare!"

She looked up at him and blinked. For a moment she didn't seem to recognize him and then she stood and began checking over his culet, tugging on his pauldron. "How do they look?," he asked after she'd finished.

"You'll live," she replied, sullenly and bent to collect her gear.

"I will do the same to my own armour as I offered to do to yours when it time to do so," the dwarf said although it didn't really look like the Janissary was listening. "I do nae wish to be a'doin' it now when the Black Bishop may still be about, eh?"

Ledare said nothing so Karak harrumphed angrily and turned away. "Vade! Any luck on items of value or secret passages?" the dwarf bellowed and the others all indicated that they'd found nothing. So Karak shook his head in mock disgust and stamped over to them. "Lemme lend my dwarven eyes to the task. You lot may have the skills topside, but it takes a dwarf to really know underground."



They found nothing, even with Karak's dwarven eyes. Ultimately, Ixin suggested that maybe Tarawyn had used magic to escape from the chamber and that there was nothing they could do to follow him if that was the case. Teleportation got added to the growing list of the Black Bishop's abilities and they were forced to exit the vault of evil by more mundane means. They backtracked.



Later, as they sat in the dim light of afternoon below the forest's canopy, talk turned to the inevitable.

"What should we do now?" Ixin asked as she released Martivir into the artificial twilight. The owl flapped once, twice and then it disappeared into the shadows above.

"My suggestion will be for the group to forge ahead to Myth Drannor," Morier said. "We need to restock supplies once we reach a good-sized city."

"Nearest human city's Redwood," Grisham told them. "A ten day march northeast of here. Maybe more."

"Myth Drannor's to the south, though," Ixin reminded. "Isn't that right?"

"That's what I hear," Grisham told her. "No human cities in that direction until you cross over the Altan Tepes and you'll have to go through Olven Vale to get there. Of course, you could cut west, through the Caspen Mountains and take Bandit Pass straight to the Gates of Pellham at Krell's Manor." He smirked. "Watch out for gnolls if you do, though."

"I want to go home," Vade whimpered and blew his nose wetly into a handkerchief. Karak spat on the ground.

"Why do we want to go to Myth Drannor?" the dwarf asked. "Did not the big tree we talked to say, 'Go find the followers of Flor'?"

"That'd be Redwood, then," Grisham told them, pointing off into the trees. "Big temple to Flor. Ten days north." Judging by the mischievous smile on the barbarian's lips he was enjoying their lack of direction.

Karak harrumphed, scowling ferociously at Grisham. "What de ye think, Ledare?" the dwarf asked, turning to look over at the Janissary.

She looked up at him after a pause and blinked. "I'm done with leading," she said. "I will assume no more responsibility for this group. Do what you will." And then she walked off into the gathering gloom.

Karak, Morier and Ixin looked at one another, bewildered.

"Well, what do you know?" Grisham chuckled. "The wood baby's not cut out to lead. Who would have thunk it?"

Vade started crying again.
 


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