45—The Heart of Nightfang Spire
There is no obvious means of entry to the tower, so the group equips itself with flying magic, and makes for the top— there they encounter a horrible creature, a bulbous fleshy thing covered with oozing tentacles that surround a mouth filled with barbed teeth. The thing is sorcerous, and strikes Thelbar from the sky with a burst of lightning. The group descends on the abomination, and makes quick work of it with sword and spell.
There in the top of the tower, ringed by jagged parapets is a landing, and on the landing is the decayed body of a great black dragon. Taran frowns as he prods the corpse. “This one hasn’t been dead long,” he says as he pokes at its head. “The eyes are still here.”
“Who can reckon time in such a place, I wonder,” Kyreel says.
“It’s probably counter-symmetrical,” Indy opines in his most sagely voice.
“So the longer it’s been dead the less it would decay?” Thelbar asks.
“Is that what counter-symmetrical means?” Indy asks.
“Bulls--t. It hasn’t been dead long.” Taran says. “I’m the tracker here, devils take your philosophy. Now stay on your toes!”
The group discovers a trap door, partially hidden beneath the dragon’s bulk. After a few moments of gruesome work, the group cuts enough of the dragon away to open the hatch. They descend into a level containing a series of tombs, and begin to explore the place. Along the way they determine two things: That this place was once a center of religious rites, probably malign, and certainly focused around dragons, or possibly one dragon. Second, that the unnatural mist swirling around their feet is definitely following them.
As Indy is examining a secret panel for traps, the mist forms itself into the shape of a sextet of vile elven warriors, each one bearing the mark of a deathblow. The creatures radiate an unholy chill, and drain the strength from whoever is unlucky enough to find herself beneath their claws. An unseen force blocks Kyreel’s turning attempt, and the group is forced to rely on more trustworthy means to vanquish the sylvan undead.
Later, they find a room containing the remains of a recent massacre. Taran, ever the pragmatist, is searching the bodies for valuables when one of the corpses stirs and moans. “Holy Mother of the Pasoun, this poor sonofabitch is still alive!” he shouts.
Kyreel rushes to Taran’s side, and immediately cures the poor wretch. Her healing magic brings the elven woman to consciousness, and after a few moments, the party hears her tale: She is a priestess of a god she refers to as the Great Black Wyrm, or by the name Asharladon. This tower is, in fact, carved from one of the castaway teeth of her draconic patron, and is itself an unholy relic. She is not aware that she is no longer within the mortal realm, but recalls that her coven was attacked by elves sworn to Corellon Larethian.
She describes her religion as being native to the elven pantheon, and her master as the first of all dragonkind. The rites she describes are evil to be sure, but she sees no contradiction in this fact. Her religion, she contends, comprises the sum of the wickedness to be found within the elves.
She has not heard of Lolth, but recognizes the deity by her former elvish name, Arunshee. When told of Lolth’s evil bent, she claims that she cannot believe that it is true. Arunshee, she says, was the goddess to the night elves— she points at Kyreel. She was good and kind, a despicably gentle being.
The name Palatin Eremath is known to her as well, and she agrees with the party’s telling of the great battle fought between Arunshee and her sister, but claims it was over a lover’s quarrel between Corellon and Arunshee. She recalls Palatin Eremath’s eventual scorning of Corellon Larethian, and calls it a great day in the history of the elves. She claims that her master Asharladon was the only elven deity to stand with Palatin Eremath, and this is why her coven was assaulted, and destroyed.
She says that at the time they were attacked, the gods’ war had raged for long centuries as the mortals reckon time. Palatin Eremath had been killed, and as an act of rebellion, the faith of Asharladon had built a great tomb for his last faithful on the very spot where Corellon Larethian struck her down—the Great Scar of the Dales. For their temerity, the survivors of the raid were banished to a timeless demiplane and locked away for eternity.
This news startles the group— not only is it untrue that Corellon Larethian defeated Grummush at this place, but their previously held belief that Palatin Eremath died from wounds given her by Arunshee is false as well! In a fit of anger, Corellon Larethian attacked his wounded champion, his sister and consort. He dealt her a mortal blow as a response to her disrespect. Did the father-god then strike memory of her from the planes because of his righteous indignation, or merely to cover his guilt?
When asked to name her wish for her own future, the elven priestess is clear and decisive—she desires to join her fellows in death, or unlife, as her god will have it. Taran obliges, while Kyreel turns away.
The deed done, Kyreel speaks briefly about the pantheon of deities native to the Ishlokian faith. Before the goddess was known to Kyreel as Palatin Eremath, Ishlok was the name by which Kyreel called her. Ishlok’s faith holds her forth as the mother of all things, but not as the only diety. Ishlok had three children; Isk, a goddess of great compassion that was represented by the earth; Hustaire, an aloof and uncaring goddess, represented by the elements and magic; and a son, cruel and despotic, represented by the wicked actions of mortal kind. This son was known as Iiam, and was said to be the father of evil dragonkind. Kyreel ventures to guess that this Iiam was known to Palatin Eremath as Asharladon, and was slain for the crime of supporting her against Corellon Larethian.
After all, if a goddess can rise from the dead, can she not reward those loyal to her with life after death as well? If any more of Asharladon’s original elven faithful yet exist, it would be in this place.
The group clears the level, and discovers a passage below. A second tomb-like level is explored, replete with scores of undead and vicious traps. Finally, the group discovers a wide shaft that leads to a series of caverns beneath the surface.
Down below, they encounter the bestial servants of Asharladon—half dragon girallons; huge black-scaled ape-like monstrosities with four arms that attack the party with a mindless blood fury. The group fights a desperate battle, fearing at each moment that they will be overrun as more and more of the creatures emerge from nearby rooms. As Thelbar and Kyreel are reaching the complete end of their spell repertoire, the last of the monstrous reserves are exhausted, and soon only one creature remains, charmed into a placid docility.
The group rests in the girallons’ lair, and question their new “friend”. From it, Thelbar learns that the girallons are servitors of one Gulthais, a high priest to Asharladon, and the master of this place. Gulthais lives within the Heart of the spire, the core of the tower—a place reached only through the use of the dragon keys—four artifacts of the faith, given to the high priests. This four-part key was meant to assure that only matters of enough import to concern all four high priests should require access to the Heart. Since the sacking of Nightfang Spire, Gulthais no longer comes in person to give instructions and orders, but has spoken through proxies, and instructed the girallons to clean the battle-scarred tower and gather the bodies of the dead. The girallon knows that Gulthais is within the Heart, but believes that he is trapped there, as only his non-corporeal undead servants can reach him and relay his messages.
The group explores the remainder of the caverns, and defeats along the way several constructs and vile undead. In the four corners of the underground area they discover the dragon keys, and prepare to enter the Heart of Nightfang Spire.
