The Realms of Enlightenment: The Grey Companions

[Jon Potter]

[Realms #402] A Day in New Mellorell

The holy warrior considered the subtle change in Raphael's demeanor and what it could mean. Enchantments by themselves were not evil, necessarily, unless they were used to bend another to your will. The effect on Raphael seemed less sinister and more like a boon to the archer. Raf had always been a little fractious - moving from one thing to the next seemingly without care for the consequences. Now, he seemed focused... driven.

"Thats great Raphael. I am glad you have finally found your calling," Ayremac said, smiling affably. "Tell me more about your discovery. What is it that is moving you so?" Raphael grew thoughtful at that question, but the smile never drifted completely from his lips.

"I don't know that I'd call it a discovery, really. Certainly it's nothing new," the man replied. "You had it all along. I can't count the number of times you spoke about duty and higher purpose during our travels. But I do know that your musings fell on deaf ears at the time." He looked a little ashamed and cast his eyes momentarily to the ground. "I'm sorry for that, Ayremac. I should have listened. I see that now, thanks to Lord Hofralix."

"I have to admit, Raphael, I was very moved by Lord Hofralix myself," the Officer of Umba told him. Indicating the dwarf to his left, he added, "Karak was just saying that he thought Lord Hofralix was a remarkable being."

"He is that," the archer sighed. "Of course, I don't see much of him. Most of the day-to-day affairs are handled by the hierarchy without needing to burden the sovereign."

"Raphael, we have only been here the one night. What can you tell us?" Ayremac asked. "Anything to help us understand the mission of Lord Hofralix?" Raphael shrugged and there was something so familiar in the action - something so very 'Raf' about it - that it was easy to forget that the archer didn't always behave like this.

"I don't know that he has a mission, really," Raphael said. "He told me that his purpose was to bring order to the people. And that's what he's done here in New Mellorell. Did you know that only a few years ago the elves of the forest and the men of the steppe were near to open warfare with one another? Now, Lord Hofralix has us all working together to everyone's benefit. It's inspiring, really."

"Yes. He's quite something," Ayremac said. "But if there's no mission, then what do you do here?" Raphael smacked himself again on the forehead.

"I'm one of the archery instructors, Ayremac, and I'm going to be late for my lesson if I don't shake a leg," the man said, motioning for the human barbarians (who had been standing quietly nearby during the exchange) to move on toward the southeast.

"Rafael, I am sorry to take you away from your duties. I have my own to attend to as well," Ayremac said and clapped the smaller man on the shoulder. "I am sure we will see you later." Raphael turned and grinned, walking backward for a few steps before he turned and trotted off after the others.

"Count on it," he called.



Ayremac woke the others and everyone crowded into one small dwelling. It was claustrophobically small in the chamber when it was jammed tightly with six adventurers who hadn't bathed since taking a dip in the ocean of the Water Test. Even so, everyone listened attentively to the holy warrior's recounting of his meeting with Raphael.

"I am disturbed by what I just saw... Raphael is not himself," Ayremac finished. "I think... well, actually... I am sure he is being enchanted."

"By who?" Morier asked and Ayremac shrugged.

"I don't know," he admitted. "Lord Hofralix presumably."

"I have a Dispel Magic available at your command, if you'd like it," Shamalin told the Officer of Umba and Ayremac smiled but shook his head.

"I don't think it is a good idea to dispel the magic of our, so far, benevolent host, who I might add is a very, very powerful being," he observed but Huzair seemed unimpressed.

"I could blink through the wall of the hut and do a little invisible spying," the mage suggested. "I can have a Detect Thoughts spell ready to go in no time."

"Of course I could be wrong, but I think we ought to assume that you can't pull off any covert activity around here," Morier countered. "We're dealing with someone who could silence all of us and all of our magical items at once... you probably can't pick his pocket, Huzair." The wizard sighed and shook his head.

"I wasn't thinking of stealing anything, Morier," he scoffed. "Just finding out what I can."

"All I'm saying is I think we should try to maintain as much good-faith as we can, while we can," Morier asserted. There was a momentary pause into which Karak inserted a snort.

"Well, we've all 'eard o' Rhadcliffe before," the dwarf interjected. "That be where Andamacles' apprentice be."

"Yes!' Morier agreed, snapping his fingers. "Something, the Weaver, right?"

"Nicetas, the Weaver," Shamalin confirmed. "I was just going over the notes last night that your janissary left." A shadow seemed to move across Morier and Karak's faces at the mention of Ledare. And Huzair's tattooed bow furrowed as he scowled.

"And those 'fleshsculpted' things that the humie was goin' on about be transmogrified creatures, it sounds to me," Karak added, spitting a hissing gobbet of phlegm into the firepit. "And so we be faced with the same dilemma again of going off on side quests or stickin' to the main quest. It seems to me we made the choice long ago to free Dridana's heart, but I do agree that netting Andamacles' apprentice be a worthy goal."

"But is it one that we can pursue now?" Ayremac asked and the dwarf shrugged.

"I do nae know," Karak admitted. "The fact that Raf be ensorcelled bothers me. It be clear that Lord Hofralix serves his own end."

"Which is why I say we need to find out what we can... quietly," Huzair said with a smile and a wink. "It'd be pretty easy for me to-"

A knock at the door silenced the wizard and prompted a tense hush to fall over the group. All eyes turned toward the door as it opened revealing a figure in a loose-fitting jerkin and pants standing outside in the morning sunlight. The person bowed and they could all see as he did so that he had three flexible eyestalks writhing about atop his head. In his hands he carried an ornate cage and inside the cage was Huzair's familiar, Sparky.

"I am Premarch D'rach," the man said as he stood. "As a show of good faith, our glorious Sovereign, Lord Hofralix, has commanded me to bring to you this magical beast."

He opened the tiny door on the side of the tiny cage and immediately, Huzair's empathic connection to the bird resumed. The mage could tell at once that the hummingbird was unhurt, but Sparky's voice was urgent in his ears nonetheless, "Boss! Am I ever glad to see you!"

"It is also my duty to act as your guide during your stay in New Mellorell," Premarch D'rach informed them solemnly. "It is our Sovereign's command that all of the eyehold's resources be placed at your disposal and to that end I have arranged meetings with both the artificers in the smithy and the scribes at the library to accommodate requests that you have already made. If there is anything else that you require please let me know and I will do my utmost to meet your needs."

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Okay, the answer to the "Contest" from last week is: N1: Against the Cult of the Reptile God.

And... next week is it! Because Blarkon Dragonslayer (sort of) asked for it! The unexpected happens when our heroes shatter the peace of New Mellorell and find some strange foes to fight. Be here for [Realms #403] Battle in the Street!

 

[Hairy Minotaur]

A knock at the door silenced the wizard and prompted a tense hush to fall over the group. All eyes turned toward the door as it opened revealing a figure in a loose-fitting jerkin and pants standing outside in the morning sunlight. The person bowed and they could all see as he did so that he had three flexible eyestalks writhing about atop his head.

1/2 beholder template from Bastards & Bloodlines?

 

[Jon Potter]

1/2 beholder template from Bastards & Bloodlines?

Nope. This guy's an eyekin Beholder Cultist/Aberrant Warrior from Goodman Games' Complete Guide to Beholders.

But don't worry... the half-beholder gets his moment in the sun.

 

[Jon Potter]

[Realms #403] Battle in the Street

"Premarch D'rach, is there a blessing or gift that could be given to weapons or armor here?" Ayremac asked and the Premarch nodded serenely.

"There is a fully functioning smithy staffed by the best artisans in a hundred leagues not far from here," their guide replied. "At your dwarven colleague's request, it will be the first stop this morning."

A toothsome smile split Karak's beard at that news and his eyes gleamed with the prospect of visiting a runesmith.

"What other resources do you have to strengthen us against our enemies?" Ayremac added and Premarch D'rach opened his hands in a gesture that seemed to encompass many possibilities. Both Ixin and Ayremac noted the disturbing presence of an eye with a slit green pupil on the palm of his left hand.

"Even before Lord Hofralix ascended from the night below, the Mellorn elves were crafters of a great many things both magical and mundane that you might well find helpful," D'rach explained. "You need but ask and I will see to it that you are accommodated if it is within our ability to do so." Shamalin extricated herself from where she was wedged uncomfortably between Morier and Ixin, stood and wiped at a lock of reddish hair that was plastered to her forehead.

"I would like to bathe, get my armor tended, and visit the healing shrine," she huffed.

"We have a bathhouse that is connected to a hot spring. It is quite near the smithy," the Premarch explained. "In fact we will pass it on the way. You are free to make use of it as you wish."

"Sounds like fun," Huzair grinned lasciviously at Shamalin. "Maybe I'll join you there after I pick up some magic supplies." The Mercybringer shuddered distastefully at that prospect and Huzair feigned a hurt expression. "Shamalin, you wound me. I'll be a perfect gentleman, I assure you. But if you're worried about perhaps losing control of yourself and jumping-" Morier elbowed the wizard in the ribs hard enough to make Huzair's breath huff from his lungs.

"I'll need to get my hands on some healing potions if they're available," Morier said to the Premarch before Huzair could turn on him.

"Morier, I do nae know what you need that won't interrupt your spell casting, but ye need an armor upgrade, either bracers or a ring or jus' better armor," Karak interjected. "See to it. We can nae have our cleric be healin' ye all day, now can we? Ha!" Color came unnaturally to Morier's pale cheeks and he looked down at his feet, the muscles in his jaw clenching.

"We don't want to spend our whole lot on healing draughts, do we?I think we would do well to add a few spells to my book," Huzair added, rubbing his ribs. "Web, Suggestion, Fly, Invisibility Sphere..." Morier growled low in his throat and stood up.

"Adding snazzy new spells that might impress people here and there is all well and good, but survival is the key here," the albino hissed, only bothering to half-turn toward the wizard as he spoke. "Those of us that stand in harm's way and swing a sword against our enemies will need to be healed. Those that stand back and cast spells from a distance surely don't worry about it, but you would just as surely perish without us." He stepped toward the door and Premach D'rach stepped aside to let him pass. Morier paused, his body silhouetted in the sunlight from outside, and added, "Healing and strength should be our prime concern."

"Yeah, we all know who saves your ass every time and potions do not have a thing to do with it," Huzair said, getting to his own feet and clutching his cloak around himself against the chill wafting in from outside. The wizard stepped after Morier wagging a finger at his retreating back. "It is Shamalin's spirtual link with her diety that saves you every time. I would be sick of it by now. You had better buy some damned armor here, whitey!"

"And it's a damned good thing for you that someone is willing to do it, Huzair!" Morier snapped, looking down at Huzair, who now stood in the sunken hut's doorway. "Otherwise, you'd find yourself forced to actually lift a hand to defend yourself instead of standing aside in utter safety while everyone around you risks their lives so that you might hang out and polish your fingernails!" Walking away, Morier muttered in digust, "I often wonder how much easier our lives would be had your father actually sired a son."

The Eldritch Warrior made it another two steps before Huzair slammed into him from behind, his knee catching him squarely between the legs with enough force to drive Morier forward into the mud. Stifling back a scream, the elf managed to get to his hands and knees before Huzair was on him again, his wiry arms wrapping around Morier's own, forcing the albino's face back down into the mud. Huzair put his entire weight behind the maneuver and Morier heard his nose give beneath the strain. Blood exploded down his face, but the pain gave him the incentive he needed to break free of the mage's hold.

He threw Huzair off and scrambled to his feet just as the wizard was doing the same. He wiped blood off his mouth with the back of his fist, smearing crimson across his cheek as he grinned at his opponent. "Is this really what you want, Huzair?" Morier growled. "Because I can give a whole lot better than I get."

Huzair was unimpressed and he hurled into Morier's face a clot of mud that he'd scraped up while they'd been down. It slammed into the albino's eyes and stayed there, blocking his vision. Morier backed up a step, scraping at the splat of dirt, managing through pure chance the avoid the punch Huzair had aimed at his ear. As soon as his vision had cleared he drove his fist into the mage's belly with enough force to nearly bend him in half.

Huzair staggered back and spat blood at Morier. The eldritch warrior easily avoided the spittle, but in doing so, he also put himself off balance. Huzair stepped under the albino's next attack and swung his own elbow up as he went intending to catch Morier's arm at the wrist. The elf had seen that move before, however and he managed to avoid it without difficulty.

Morier felt a rage building in him and it began to cloud his judgment. Despite everything that he'd told Shamalin about the Eldritch Code, he felt his anger at Huzair getting the better of him. Fueled by all the strength his anger could muster, Morier's fist sailed harmlessly passed the wizard's face. If he'd put less power behind it, the attack would probably have connected instead of offering Huzair another opportunity to fake him out.

Morier drove his fist again into the wizard's gut, and then stepped back out of the man's reach. But before he could get away, Huzair's foot kicked out, catching Morier's left leg at the knee and driving the joint sideways. Something gave way in the limb, but Morier maintained his footing and began focusing his mind on the pain. He swung a fist warily at the wizard, keeping him momentarily at bay, but Huzair was a canny veteran of many a bar fight, and he knew well the value of a good feint. He darted to the right, but came at Morier with his left knee. Too late, the eldritch warrior saw what the wizard's plan was but he still managed to twist enough that he caught the force of the attack on the inside of his thigh rather than firmly in his crotch as Huzair had intended.

Huzair darted back before Morier could muster a counterattack and by the time he looked up to locate the wizard he had to duck his head again to avoid another clot of mud aimed for his eyes. Still, it was enough of a glance for him to spot Huzair and land a fist solidly on the man's chin. The mage reeled back from the impact, but kept his feet.

"Your tricks are getting old, Huzair," Morier chided and his opponent sneered back at him.

"Trouble for you is, I'm not out of tricks!" he spat, and activated his Ring of Blinking.

 

[Hairy Minotaur]

Anytime a wizard can go toe-to-toe with a fighter of comparible level and survive long enough to piss off the fighter, has already won the match.

BTW where was Ayremac when internal strife hit the party, it seems he's letting the two "boys" hash out their personal differences physically.

 

[Jon Potter]

Anytime a wizard can go toe-to-toe with a fighter of comparible level and survive long enough to piss off the fighter, has already won the match.

Huzair's player felt pretty much the same way.

Remember, too, that Huzair has a level of Rogue. Those instances of mud-slinging, etc. were Feints, denying Morier his DEX bonus and making him Sneak Attack-able.

BTW where was Ayremac when internal strife hit the party, it seems he's letting the two "boys" hash out their personal differences physically.

You'll have to wait for the next post, but you pretty much lifted the words right out of his mouth.

 

[Burningspear]

I have had a similar experience where one player was so annoying, and even disruptive in the story, that he managed to get our major ally (Kornugon, an Avengion) killed by 3 dragons.
(Dark Sun)

that made the whole party -1 idiotic half giant (he was "following as a dumbstronghand" the "culprit") go for a pc-kill.....

not fun when you are normally supposed to be working together as allies in a party

 

[Jon Potter]

I have had a similar experience where one player was so annoying, and even disruptive in the story, that he managed to get our major ally (Kornugon, an Avengion) killed by 3 dragons.
(Dark Sun)

that made the whole party -1 idiotic half giant (he was "following as a dumbstronghand" the "culprit") go for a pc-kill.....

not fun when you are normally supposed to be working together as allies in a party

Well, Huzair's intentions were not murderous. Attacking unarmed as he did, all the damage was non-lethal. But his outburst does not come without consequences.

 

[Burningspear]

Well, Huzair's intentions were not murderous. Attacking unarmed as he did, all the damage was non-lethal. But his outburst does not come without consequences.

my experience was "murderous", as we killed that character and had to hide from the dragons in question...
and the half giant got squished in the process..

good luck with managing that mess inparty

 

[Jon Potter]

my experience was "murderous", as we killed that character and had to hide from the dragons in question...
and the half giant got squished in the process..

Well, that certainly sounds memorable anyway!

And over the next several posts you'll get to see the fallout that Huzair's unrestrained action caused both within the party and with Lord Hofralix.