The Romance of Arasil

[Hjorimir]

Dazen​

The Companions returned to Bramborough in the late evening. Soon after, they were gathered on a large porch outside the house of Tannesen, the village Ealdorman. A small platter of sliced cheese and sausage and a pail of frothy ale sat atop the table around which they were gathered.

The Companions shared their ‘concern’ over the Ladies of the Tapestry, but the Ealdorman could only shrug. It appeared that nobody thought the situation was ideal, but Bedelda, Garissa, and Neevla were the only protection to be had in the depths of the Silverglades for the village. Guards from Traveler’s Rest rarely made an appearance so the village was left to fend for itself.

He had no description of the beast as there had been no survivors of any encounter. Village hunters had found grisly remains of others on three separate occasions and now were afraid to venture forth for food. They had, however, found the creature’s lair. Apparently, an earthquake had hit the area and exposed a cavern that the beast had been tracked to. He’d arrange for the hunters to escort the group there in the morning, but warned not to rely on the hunters for any support in the coming confrontation.

Wednesday, July 20

It took just over a day with guidance from the village hunters to reach the beast’s lair with Tenoch often muttering complaints of slow progress during the trip.

The Companions were huddling under the cover of bushes with a vantage point of the lair as they considered how to proceed. They were looking at a hill; or at least half of one. It looked like the hill had broken in half, revealing a wide-mouthed cavern that sat at a slight angle to the left.

There was talk of sending Dazen and maybe Tenoch into the cave to scout ahead, but in the end the Companions felt the risk was too dangerous. With that, they entered the cave in a wide line (queue Little Green Bag).

Within the cave the Companions found themselves standing on a wide hall from an ancient time. The chamber was wide, maybe sixty feet in total, with a few columns here and there to suggest that once, long ago, two colonnades ran the hall’s length. The entire hall was tilted to the left. Not dangerously so, but enough that one could slip and fall if not paying attention. The chamber was maybe twenty feet tall and ran roughly one hundred feet long where it ended in a drop-off. The ceiling at that point was broken and ten feet lower, like the hallway had broken and the deeper end was now set lower.

The Companions were moving forward cautiously, weapons in hand when they heard the roar from beyond the break. They looked at each other anxiously before it appeared.

It was a great four-legged beast, easily the size of two horses abreast. It had powerful, scaled claws in front and a pair of cloven feet behind. Atop its shoulders was the head that looked like that of a massive lion, had it been stripped of its facial skin. A long tail that ended with the head of a giant serpent, whipped erratically behind it. On top of it all, the skull of a great goat jutted from its back, pools of sickly, green light poured forth from the sockets of its eyes. It had leapt up from below to the edge of the broken hall. The lion’s head roared a second time and the serpent’s head snipped at it in response.

Dazen pulled out his hand crossbow, ready to fire when the moment is right. “Umm…that’s big!”

The beast leapt forward and caught Tenoch in a rake of its claws. The ranger grimaced and returned the favor. Two mighty swings with his macuahuitls left gashes on the creature’s neck where black, blood oozed forth.

Ilvander shot an arrow into the beast’s flank, but it gave little reaction to the arrow dangling from its haunch. “Tenoch, look out!” he cried.

The tail of the beast lashed out and bit Tenoch and he stumbled, losing his balance. “Poisoned!” he said through gritted teeth. Charity ran to his side and laid a hand upon his brow. There was a flash of light and the color returned to the ranger’s face.

Orsik jumped forward as if to land on his belly and transformed into a giant spider. He then shot a gooey hunk of web at the beast and it was held fast.

The skull of the goat spat something fowl at the spider, but he shook it off without effect.

Vech unleashed the eye from beyond and blasted the lion’s head. “It’s three creatures in one body!” Indeed, the beast was moving three times as fast as any of the Companions.

Dazen was up on it in flash, thrusting the length of his longblade into its chest before jumping back out of the beast’s immediate reach.

The lion’s head roared and launched for Tenoch, but was blocked by Charity’s shield. “I am a sentinel of the Chantry and I say you shall not have him!” (I hadn’t realized up to this point that Charity had the Protection fighting style. I came to hate it in short order as time and time again she blocked my attacks meant for others.)

Tenoch continued ripping chunks from the beast as Ilvander helped him recover with healing word and shot the beast again.

The serpent lashed out at Dazen, who had thought he had reached safety and was himself poisoned. Charity slid over to the elf and touched him, clearing his poison as well.

Orsik raised his abdomen, ready to reapply the web if needed.

The goat spit black goop at Charity, hitting her square in the face. (Yay, you’ve contracted the Blinding Sickness! Is that a disease? Yes, why do you ask? It says here that I’m immune to disease; divine health? /sigh.)

Vech continued to blast the beast with impunity. Zot!

Then the beast tore free of the webs and … got webbed again! (Stupid dwarf, you’ll rue the day!)

The Companions focused on destroying the goat’s head, that had started to lay down bane, one-by-one as the fight stretched on. It was crushed in short order.

The serpent tail was next to go as the poison was too dangerous to ignore.

The beast tore free from the webs a second time… and this time the webbing missed. It lurched forward hungrily and started gnawing on the warlock, who crumpled in short order. (This was my one glorious moment in the combat. Vech was having just a little too much fun and allowed himself to wander within striking range of the beast. Munchy-munch.)

In the end, the Companions proved victorious over the dreaded Beast of Bramborough.

The companions took time to catch their breath once they had Vech back up on his feet.

“Greeeeetings…” a voice said from behind them.

The Companions came to their feet, but saw nobody.

“I wish to treat with you. Will you speak with me peacccefully?” the voice almost slurred.

“Show yourself and we’ll talk,” Orsik said.

“Do not be alarmed,” the voice responded and a creature materialized a short distance away. It wore heavy, concealing robes and was hard to distinguish. A white hand with dark claws came to its chest as it bowed. “I am Z’volen. I mean you no harm.”

Charity lowered her gaze and focused upon the creature. Her eyes flashed white and she sneered. “Undead.”

Z’volen nodded. “Yesss…I am unliving.”

“What do you want, creature?” Dazen asked.

“To form an alliance,” it replied.

Dazen took a menacing step forward, “Are you mad?!”

Z’volen scurried back from the elf’s approach. “No, please, hear me out.” It held up its hands before continuing. “You have met the Brakari witch, no?”

“He means Fexxahna,” the paladin said.

Z’volen nodded. “Indeed, that is the one of which I speak.”

“What of her?” Dazen asked.

“The Brakari are here looking for a key that will lead them to a great power,” Z’volen explained. “I would see them denied that power.”

“Why would one such as you care?” the elf asked.

“Because, they prey upon my kind under the world,” the undead replied. “I have come into the possession of a map of sorts, but it has been useless to me. I think that it may be more useful to you.”

“And I suppose we’re to give you this power for the map?” the elf was almost laughing.

“No, of course not,” Z’volen answered. “I know you would never concede to such a bargain. I only ask that you deny her people this power.”

“What power are we talking about?” Orsik asked.

“It is unclear to me,” Z’volen responded. “A portent says only that it will be a great power for the Brakari and all will suffer for it, including my own people.”

“Very well, hand it over,” Dazen said his hand extended.

Z’volen pulled forth a crumpled piece of cloth and laid it on the ground at his feet. “I think this is safer for all of us, no?” He then made an arcane gesture and disappeared.

Dazen retrieved the cloth. He studied it momentarily, turning it around and around as he did. “I’ve seen better maps.”



“Let me look,” Ilvander said taking the map. He looked it over for a few minutes before shaking his head.

“May I?” Vech said. The monk shrugged and handed it over. The warlock spun it about a few times. Sniffed it. Nothing. Licked it. Still nothing. Then Glyph flowed up his body, leaving a sensation not unlike that of a snail, slid down his arm and onto the map where it scrolled about for a few minutes across its surface.

Vech watched intently.

“Vech, your nose,” Dazen said.

The warlock wiped away the blood.

Hopeless, Glyph said.

“You mean worthless,” Vech corrected it.

No.

“Let me hold on to this,” the warlock said as he tucked it away.

“This Z’volen will likely betray us,” the elf said.

“This Z’volen is likely invisible and listening to us,” Vech countered.

A quiet laugh was heard leaving the chamber and he was gone.

(I let the party immediately level from 3rd to 4th and refresh – full hp, spells, abilities – and everybody thought I was a very nice DM. That sentiment was not going to last.)

 

[Hjorimir]

Charity​

“There’s something back here,” Charity called.

The others found the paladin standing upon some rocks at the far end of the lower half of the great hall. It appeared as if the entire roof had caved in, but she was pointing beyond some of the rocks from her perch. “I think I see some doors.”

“Let me look,” Dazen said and clambered past her down into the gap between the rocks. “She’s right,” he said from within, “There are doors here and I think I can open them. Should I?”

“It would be a shame to not peek inside while we’re here,” Orsik said with a smile. “Besides, places such as this have been known to house great treasures!”

“And great dangers,” Vech added.

(Truth be told, the players were really excited to get into a dungeon. They had just leveled up to 4th and there was a dearth of magic items amongst them, so they figured that treasure was close at hand.)

“Bah, you won’t get to the gold by licking the rock,” the dwarf replied with a saying of his people.

“Open it,” Ilvander agreed.

After unlocking the doors, it took some effort to force the doors open completely. The tilt of the place caused them to push into the floor. So, with a lot of sweat and grunting, the Companions put their shoulders to the doors and forced them to open with a long scrape of stone, which echoed in the darkness beyond.

The doors opened onto a short balcony, beyond which was only darkness. To their left, a ramp led down along the curved wall.

Ilvander peered out and shook his head, “What am I looking at?”

“That ramp there to the left curves down against the wall and continues past what I can see,” Dazen said.

“We’re in some kind of massive, round shaft that goes very deep,” Vech offered as he stared into the darkness. “I can see the other side. The ramp spirals down as it circles about the chamber. There is bas-relief along the outer walls.”

“Let’s go!” the dwarf urged. “Less gawking and more walking!”

The Companions began to wind their way down the ramp, descending into the depths of the shaft.

“Vech, can you produce some light for us?” the ranger asked.

Vech shook his head, “No.”

“No, you can’t or no, you won’t?” Tenoch asked.

“Can’t,” Vech said. “I can see in the dark and I never spent time trying to learn how.”

Tenoch sighed.

“I’ve got it,” Ilvander said and cast light and stopped as he looked at the sculptured wall. “Well now, this is interesting.”

“Don’t stand on it, boy. Out with it!” the druid said.

“Oh, sorry, give me a minute…or five,” Ilvander said as he peered closer. “It appears to be a history of sorts. Let’s keep going, I need to see more.” The Companions continued their spiral into darkness.

After they had descended four flights down the shaft, Ilvander stopped where he studied a section of the wall more closely. “We are the subsumed,” he said quietly to himself.

“Care to explain?” Dazen asked.

“What we’re looking at is the history of the Kaath. An ancient people that fell during the Second Age,” Ilvander said.

“Ah, to the Chynntai,” the elf replied.

“No, not directly,” Ilvander continued. “The Kaath were essentially sacrificed to the Chynntai by their own monarch, the Voringian Primacy.”

“The Voringian what?” the paladin asked.

“Basically, their own kings betrayed them to the Chynntai,” Ilvander said almost sadly.

“For what?” Chantry asked.

“The power of immortality, or so the legends go,” Ilvander answered.

“Legends or history?” Vech asked.

“More legend than history, I’m afraid,” the monk responded. “There are not too many writings from the Second Age, most accounts are second hand accounts from the Third Age as a matter of fact.”

“How did you come to learn how to read Kaath?” Orsik asked.

“Kaathic,” Ilvander corrected him. “As a part of my training with the Chantry I was given a choice of languages to learn. I chose Kaathic.”

“Why not a more useful language, like Dwarven?” the druid asked.

“I’ve known too many dwarves,” Ilvander said with a wink.

“Bah!” Orsik waved him off.

“Honestly, the stack of Kaathic books was the smallest, so I figured it would be easiest,” the monk replied.

“Well at least that makes sense,” the dwarf answered, patting his friend on the back. “But I’m afraid you owe me a drink for the crack about dwarves.”

Ilvander nodded. “Done. As soon as we get back to Traveler’s Rest, I promise,” he said with a smile.

“Can we please keep going?” Charity asked.

The Companions continued down. Ilvander read and learned more as they went.

They came to the bottom of the shaft to a circular chamber. To their left and their right, were a pair of hallways. Each entrance was flanked by a pair of statues.

“Apparently, some of the Kaath chose to serve the Voringians even in death and were given the gift of the…yoke?” the monk said as he squinted at the last of the bas-relief sculptures. He shrugged, “The Gift of the Yoke.”

“Which way?” Vech asked.

Charity looked around and shrugged. “Let’s go right,” she said finally.

The statues at the hallway looked like they were guards or warriors. Each was posed in a bow of reverence.

Charity lowered the visor on her helm, drew her longsword, and stepped into the hallway. The hallway descended ten steps, continued forward a short distance, and then climbed another ten steps into another round chamber that was obviously meant to serve as a crypt. A sarcophagus lay in the center of the room. All about the outer wall were shelves upon shelves of mummified bodies.

“Nobody touch anything,” Dazen said. “Ancient crypts like these are just the kind of place one finds a deathtrap.”

“Are you saying we should just leave?” the dwarf grumbled.

“No, not at all, but give me time,” the rogue answered.

I don’t like this. Charity closed her eyes and extended her senses. “Undead!” she said in a loud whisper.

Dazen nodded and spoke quietly. “Yes, but they’re in a torpor. If we don’t disturb them, we should be okay.”

Ilvander started fingering his holy symbol.

Dazen spent some time at the sarcophagus in the center of the chamber as he carefully checked it – and the floor around it – for any traps, both mundane and magical. Once he was convinced there were none, he started to slide the sarcophagus lid open. A body lie within. Mummified like the others, but this one was stained black and wore the tattered remnants of a robe. It clutched a staff of burnt wood in its hands. A sliver of bright metal, below one of its arms caught the rogue’s attention.

“What do we have here?” Dazen said to himself as he ‘carefully reached in to work whatever was hidden free’ without disturbing the body on top.

Suddenly, the creature within rose in the air to float just above the sarcophagus. Its black staff held high over its head in one hand and tattered robe seemed to whip in a wind that didn’t exist within the chamber. “Sog kothic umn!” it said as it stretched pointed about the room with its empty hand.

“It said Rise Children!” Ilvander called out.

All about the room, there were gasps as the undead tore from the ancient wrappings, bronze weapons in hand.

The eye from beyond appeared over the floating undead’s head quickly followed by an eldritch blast from Vech, bringing a screech from the ancient creature.

Charity swung and missed.

A thin, green ray sprang from the deathpriest’s outstretched finger and lanced past the warlock, hitting the wall just behind him…which turned into a fine, gray dust. (Of course, I miss with my disintegration ray. Stupid dice.)

“Do NOT let that thing hit you!” Vech shouted.

Tenoch ripped into one of the Kaathic warriors crawling forth from the outer ring. A huge cut from its neck down to its navel had one arm dangling at his feet, but the warrior remained upright. “Spirits preserve!” the ranger said. (Let it be known that the zombie’s undead fortitude ability is awesome.)

Dazen came away from the sarcophagus with an elegant silvered shortsword of elven design. His eyes widened as it thrummed with a life of its own.

Then the zombies were upon them. Ilvander buried an arrow into one and slowly backed into the center of the room.

Orsik turned into a brown bear and started to trying to pull them apart.

ZOT! Vech ripped into the deathpriest again. It howled in rage as it looked at the warlock.

Then the point of Charity’s sword erupted from the center of its chest and light flashed from the blade to fill the body of the deathpriest. (Oh, did I critical? Better make that a smite! /sigh)

The deathpriest reassessed the situation and spun on the paladin. Another beam sprung from his finger, this time yellow, striking the paladin in the chest. Charity froze in motion, unable to move.

Tenoch continued to hack at the zombies, but they were not dropping. (Again, love me some undead fortitude.)

Dazen ran one through with the shortsword. It crumbled.

But the zombies were pressing hard now and were inflicting enough wounds to really start to matter.

Ilvander held up the holy symbol to Lokela, “Back spawn of the grave! Back to dirt with you! Flee before the light of the Archons!” (This was perhaps the most ridiculously successful turn undead I’ve seen in quite some time. I had 15 zombies in the room, I think 13 of them were turned. Ilvander’s player was very proud of the results and he should be.)

With the undead cowering, they were dispatched in short order, including the deathpriest.

The Companions took a little while to collect their strength before moving back to the central chamber to investigate the left hall.

Again, there were a pair of statues flanking the hall and they were both warriors as well. However, unlike the previous set that had been kneeling in reverence, the two statues here held out their right arm, hand pulled back as if signaling for the Companions to stop.

Charity frowned, “A warning?”

“Perhaps,” Dazen replied. “Hold here, let me check.”

The elf slid into the shadows, disappearing from everybody’s view. He returned a short while later.

“It’s basically the same. Round chamber, shelves of dead in the walls, sarcophagus in the center.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Orsik said and started to move forward.

Dazen caught him by the shoulder, “The sarcophagus is wrapped in to massive chains to the floor, binding it closed.”

You could almost see the avarice twinkle in the eyes of the dwarf. “Ooooh, something valuable indeed!”

“Or something dangerous,” Vech said.

The Companions entered the chamber and examined the chained sarcophagus from a distance.

“Trapped?” Orsik said looking at the Dazen.

The elf shrugged, “I didn’t get close to this…it makes me feel uneasy.”

Vech took a few steps back to be next to the exit. As the others closed on the chained box, a wind hissed through the chamber, and Ilvander’s light wavered and dimmed ever so slightly.

“Aj nathku kro mhuut!”

They all heard the whispers escape from the sarcophagus. It was palpable evil, but the dwarf was not to be denied. He had dropped his rucksack and produced a crowbar of dwarven make and was working with Charity and Tenoch on how to open the chains.

“The time is upon us,” Ilvander mumbled, concern growing on his face.

“Bajku nor empic fum!”

Orsik was hammering on one end of the crowbar as Charity and Tenoch were applying leverage.

“The First of the Risen calls,” Ilvander said softly, bringing one hand to his lips as if to try and stop what he was saying.

All about the chamber, the bodies of the mummified Kaath were shaking where they lay.

Ilvander looked down at the top of the sarcophagus and saw a word, “Nazzak…I know that name.”

“Guys, wait…” the monk said as he spun back to his friend, but it was too late.

The first chain snapped free like a whip and struck the ground on the opposite side, causing it to shatter and producing a huge cloud of dust. Everybody was coughing and waving the dust from their eyes.

“Watch out!” Vech was shouting from the back of the room.

The started to see the form as the cloud of dust evaporated. It was standing within the sarcophagus, one foot within, one perched on its side. It was clad in ancient bronze plate and was holding a greatsword to match. It was thin, little more than a skeleton, but had white skin stretched tight over its bones. Long, wispy white hair fluttered from its pate. Its eyes, nose, and mouth all flared with red light, as if a flame burnt within its skull.

We’ve made our last mistake. Charity pulled her longsword and struck Nazzak across the face. White light exploded as it left its mark. Nazzak shook his head once and then smiled, red light flaring out from the cut in his cheek.

Tenoch let out a mighty yawp and tried to cut Nazzak’s legs out from under him. Teeth from one of his macuahuitl snapped off and skittered to the rear of the chamber.

Then Nazzak struck Tenoch with its greatsword, leaving a gash across the ranger’s chest that instantly began to necrotize. Then he struck Charity with similar results. And one for Orsik too.

Ilvander held aloft his holy symbol, “Back! Back before the will of the Archons! Back!”

Nazzak cackled at the monk’s feeble attempt to turn it…and then hit Charity again.

Vech called forth the eye and struck Nazzak with an eldritch blast.

Nazzak spun on Tenoch and hit him again. The ranger wobbled on his feet.

Dazen bound forward and stuffed the shortsword in the side of the undead. Red light flared from its eyes as its head rolled back and it screeched in pain. When Nazzak looked back down, the elf had already retreated.

Nazzak struck at Charity again, but the blow thundered off her shield.

Orsik cast heat metal upon Nazzak’s greatsword and the blade started to smolder in his hands.

Nazzak howled in anger looking at the dwarf, but was distracted when Charity smote him again.

Tenoch attacked with grim determination, hitting once, leaving a gash along Nazzak’s arm.

The skin of Nazzak’s hands sizzled, but his grip remained true. He thundered down on the weakened ranger. Tenoch fell with the third blow. His blood slushing out to mix with the dust on the floor.

“Nooo!” Ilvander shouted and cast healing word, bringing the ranger back from the brink. Tenoch coughed some blood and started to shake his head. One of Ilvander’s arrows rung off Nazzak’s armor. Tenoch looked up at his doom. Nazzak struck the ranger again.

Vech was standing in the doorway now, “We need to flee this place!” His eldritch blast missing its mark.

Dazen slid up, missed, and rolled back. Nazzak struck Charity, but again she raised her shield just in time. THOOM!

Orsik continued to concentrate and hit the paladin with a healing word. “Hold tight, lass!”

Charity screamed as she was struck again. She shook her head, blood seeped from her helm. She brought her fist to her chest and touched herself. Warm, golden light rolled over her body, closing many of her wounds. Please… Charity didn’t know which Archon she should call upon.

Nazzak bound from his sarcophagus to loom over Dazen. He swung in a huge arc, but the elf rolled under the blade and came back to his feet. The follow through was too fast however, and left the rogue holding back the blood from his stomach with one hand. The third attack came from overhead. Dazen felt cold. He looked around as if in a dream. The silver sword rolled away from his grip, making a beautiful sound as it rung off the floor. Then Dazen collapsed.

Ilvander shot Nazzak in the back with an arrow. THUNK! The graveknight didn’t even shrug.

Vech’s eldritch blast found its mark and sent the graveknight back. “What are you waiting for? Run!”

Nazzak, fingers still burned as it clutched its weapon, leveled its gaze upon Orsik. A cold, unnatural fear settled upon the dwarf.

“Go!” Orsik shouted. “I’m sorry!”

“I will not leave you to die!” Charity shouted as she slammed into Nazzak from behind, sending him down to the ground on all fours. “Die!” The paladin thrust her longsword straight through the graveknight’s back, white light exploding from the wound.

Nazzak’s reared up to his knees and wailed in agony…and then jumped back to his feet. He threw Charity out of his way and he bore down on Orsik. He raised his sword again and again with mighty overhead strikes. His sword went cold as the dwarf lay gasping on the floor. Three, deep gashes across his chest weakly pumping blood.

“Run already!” Charity screamed at her friends. “I’ll hold him for as long I can!”

Ilvander and Vech fled the chamber.

They were near the top of the shaft when they heard the last, failing scream of the paladin.

Then silence.

 

[Vymair]

Vech is my character in this game and this adventure was critical as it reinforced one of the key premises of Hjorimir's world. Not everything we encounter or experience will be scaled to be something the player characters will be able to defeat. He had stated this before the game, but I don't think we had truly taken this statement to heart. When we started to pry open the sarcophagus, I had a really bad feeling, but Vech's cowardly by nature so him worrying is a pretty frequent occurrence. I was standing well back from the sarcophagus and I remember Hjorimir reaching down for the 3rd party monster product for Nazzak's stat bock and knowing we were screwed. Hjorimir prepares heavily and develops quick reference cards for all his monsters, so when he didn't have one prepared, I knew that he didn't think we would ever actually encounter this creature but was setting it up as a future plot hook. I think we all knew pretty quickly, but played it out in character and only fled when it was obviously hopeless.

 

[Azkorra]

Uh, wow! Now that's what I call a merciless GM...Personally I find it a bit of a shame to see four really interesting and immediately likable characters being gone to waste, so to say. That said, if you told them beforehand that it might gonna get unfair if they didn't proceed cautiously enough...then so be it. I wonder who the new characters will be...or if against all odds one of them still makes it out alive of the dungeon (rootin' for it but probably not, I guess).

Gesendet von meinem GT-I9301I mit Tapatalk

 

[Hjorimir]

Oh, it was certainly a shame and I really liked all of those characters. There are a lot of different ways to play D&D and I'm not professing that "my way" is the "right way;" it's just the right way for me. I'm a big proponent of player agency and decisions with consequences. This was a rough moment for everybody in the campaign...myself included. I've read plenty of posts and threads where DMs complain that it's difficult to challenge the players. I've found that isn't the case at all once you disengage the safeties. It's a big mean world out there for my players and they'll have to be on their A-game to navigate it successfully.

 

[pogre]

This is the reason I used to never start a story hour until I had a number of adventures written up! I like your GMing style. It certainly reinforces the dark atmosphere of your world.

 

[Hjorimir]

Thank you, pogre! More of the story hour is on deck. Quite a bit more has already been written, but it's quite rough at this point. Thanks for tuning in!

 

[Hjorimir]

Friday, July 22 – THEN

Vech​

Ilvander and Vech returned to Bramborough. Maybe victorious in that they dealt with the beast that was plaguing the village, but certainly defeated in the fact that four of their friends lay dead at the bottom of the Kaathic tomb. Worse, Nazzak had been released and there was no way to be certain what he would do.

Ealdorman Tannesen was saddened with the news of their fallen friends, but thanked the monk and warlock for their aid to Bramborough. He stepped away with a couple of elders from the village while Ilvander and Vech drowned their sorrows in ale.

“I don’t even know what to say,” Ilvander started, tears in his eyes.

“There’s nothing to be said,” Vech replied.

“Orsik and I rescued Charity when she was but a girl,” the monk went on. “We ever till you about that?”

Vech shook his head.

“Another time then,” the monk said. “It’s a good story with a happy ending, but I’ve no tongue for happy endings tonight.”

One of the village elders returned. He placed the athame on the table, along with a folded piece of cloth, stained with blood.

Ilvander looked down and then flipped the cloth open. Inside was an ear. He stood up quickly and grabbed the man, “What is this?!”

“Tribute for the Ladies,” the old man said.

“Is this the ear of the ealdorman?” the monk asked.

The old man nodded. “Such is the way of things here in Bramborough.”

“Dare we even approach them? We are now but two,” Ilvander said to Vech.

The warlock shook his head, “We entered into a pact with the coven. They will honor their side of the bargain.”

~

Vech and Ilvander returned to the coven’s cottage in the mire north of the village and found Gaddis sitting outside weaving a basket.

“Where are the children?” Ilvander asked.

Gaddis only shrugged and hummed a tune as she worked.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this!” the monk said as he spun on the warlock.

“We cannot undo what is done,” Vech replied. “Let us just be done with it and away from this foul place. We’ve sacrificed too much already.”

Gaddis had stopped working and was looking up at the pair. “You’ve done the task? The beast is dead?”

Vech nodded.

“Then place the tribute upon the stone,” she said gesturing at the rock.

Ilvander placed the knife and ear upon its surface.

Again, as before, the coven was there mysteriously. None saw them appear or from whence they came.

Neevla, the fat one, picked up the ear and held it up like a trophy, “Yessss!”

Bedelda snatched it from her hand, “I told you! I told you releasing the beast would be profitable!”

Vech frowned at that. You just made the list, hag. You and your sisters. Not today maybe, but one day soon.

Garissa took the ear and hung it on a hook from a necklace she wore. Ilvander and Vech both noticed that other ears dangled from hooks about her neck.

“Where are your friends?” Garissa said as she was adjusting the necklace of ears as if it were an important part of her ensemble.

“They fell,” the monk said flatly.

“Awww…such a pity. What a waste!” Neevla said as she patted her fat belly before she started to cackle.

Enjoy it now, crone.

“We’ve done what you asked, now where is this key?!” Ilvander snapped.

“Yes, yes. A bargain is a bargain,” Garissa said. “You will find the key you seek at the Broken Fane.”

“Broken fane?” the monk asked.

“Yes, deep within the forest to the north,” Bedelda went on, “it lies tucked away from the eyes of man for so, so long now.”

“Once a great place of the Archonity!” Neevla added. “Your path runs to the Broken Fane, we have seen it!”

Ilvander and Vech were given directions on how to find the fane and left the cottage and made their way back towards Traveler’s Rest.

 

[Hjorimir]

The Companions​

Einar, Moonspeaker of Shael. (Human Cleric – Light), a Tetranic Priest of the archon Shael (the Huntress, the Moonlit Lady) from the Raltt. Tetranism is an offshoot denomination of Archonity that is essentially a theological blending of modern Archonianism and old world Druidism. Relations between Tetranism and Archonianism are cool, but respectable.

Erevan of Greensward Keep. (Wood Elf Ranger – Hunter), a servant of the Aldurfolk and friend to the Ralttmen. Erevan is a young elf, by elven standards, and feels a lust to see the expanses of Arasil.

Ilvander, Initiate of Lokela and Disciple of Ashu. (Human Cleric/Monk), who walks two paths. On one path, he is a devoted member of the Chantry, on the other he follows an ancient tradition of warrior monks. Usually quick with a smile and a heart full of laughter, Ilvander is typically an embodiment of optimism in a grim world, but with recent events the monk struggles to keep hold of who he is.

Jaxx (Human Warlock – Archfey), who is bound to the will of a pair of spirits, Nylu and Morcant. Nylu is a spirit of light and perseverance; Morcant is darkness and death. Two opposite sides of a coin called Fayt. Though his pact to Fayt, he summons a mystical blade to do their bidding.

Mynn of Skyfall. (Dwarven Paladin – Oath of Vengeance), a mountain dwarf paladin. The dwarves revere the Ninefold Divinities (aka the Elder Gods), but worship the Urû, who are the ancestral spirits of their people. Mynn brought his friends (Einar, Erevan, and Jaxx) to the Silverglades at the bidding of the Urû to see to the Troubles.

Vech of ?…just Vech. (Human Warlock – Great Old One), an orphan from the streets of Dharaan. His only two friends in the world are now Ilvander and the unfathomable Glyph.

The Fallen​

Watcher Charity, Sentinel of the Chantry (Tiefling Paladin – Oath of Devotion), rescued as a child by Orsik and Ilvander from a life of diabolic servitude in Nam Brakar. Charity become a ward of the Chantry in Akylon as a young girl. In time, her faith proved greater than the skeptics of the faith and she took the Oath of Devotion to the Archons and thus became a paladin.

Dazen Selhariel (High Elf Rogue – Swashbuckler), one of the Aldurfolk (read: elven peoples) that had somehow found himself eking out a living on the rough streets of Dharaan, a wretched hive of scum and villainy in the Kingdom of Merdia. Lovingly nicknamed ‘the Murder-Elf’ by the rest of the players.

Orsik, son of Vondal (Hill Dwarf Druid – Circle of the Moon), a contrast of wisdom and hedonism rolled up into one ‘big boned’ dwarf. Orsik likes to eat…and eat more. He loves to spend his hours in the form of a giant toad gulping up as much as he can and gained some amount of fame amongst the locals for dealing with a small goblin infestation (“death by digestion”).

Tenoch of the Nephti, Huntsman of the Arumanji (Human Ranger – Hunter), escaped from the dark jungles of Arumanji, his tribe all but completely eradicated by another. He prays to the Great Feathered One, which is apparently some kind of powerful spirit-god.

 

[Hjorimir]

Thursday, July 28 – THEN

Ilvander​

It was dark and wet. Light showers had been pouring on the pair since shortly after midday. They were both tired, but Traveler’s Rest wasn’t too much further down the road, so they had decided to press on through the first part of evening.

The pair had been walking in silence. There wasn’t much to say at this point. They had been given their so-called path from the hags, but there was now only two of them. Ilvander was musing how to proceed.

“We’ll go back,” Vech said as he clenched his cloak closed from the rain.

“Hmm?” the monk replied.

“One day, we’ll go back to Bramborough. Deal with it…them.”

Ilvander nodded and continued trudging on.

Officially, this was Charity’s mission from the Chantry. Should we even be doing this without her? Ilvander hung his head, his sorrow renewed from thinking about his fallen friend.

They crested the last hill before Traveler’s Rest…and saw fires.

“Merciful Lady!” Ilvander said.

The pair ran towards the gates without a further word between. The gates stood open. Nearby, the corpses of three guards lay in the mud. Arrows protruded from their bodies. Screams could be heard within.

Ilvander blazed forward through the rain and mud to the gates where he peeked in. Gnolls were in the streets of Traveler’s Rest. More bodies, guards and villagers alike, littered the streets. Many buildings blazed, the fires hissing in the rain.

A short distance away, a guard, young by the look of him, was feebly crawling through the muck, desperate to escape his fate. A wounded gnoll was limping up behind him, crossbow bolt buried deep in its side. It raised its spear to finish the guard.

Ilvander bound up behind the gnoll and proceeded to run his shortsword through the back of its thigh, bringing the dogman up short with a howl. Using the palm of his other hand, he drove the dangling bolt fully into the cavity of its chest. The gnoll spun on him gargling blood and then fell.

“Thank you,” the guard said feebly, but the monk was already running ahead. No more!

Another gnoll came out of the smoke that roiled through the streets of the town and appeared at Ilvander’s flank, but was blown off his feet from Vech’s eldritch blast. “Go!” the warlock shouted through the rain, standing at the open gates. “This one is mine!”

Einar, Erevan, Jaxx, & Mynn​

“Always in the night!” Mynn was complaining as his friends were helping him get into his armor. “Hand me my axe!” the dwarf called to Einar who was staring out the window from their room upstairs at the Lion’s Yawn.

The large man nodded and got the dwarf’s weapon for him.

“There,” Erevan said as he clasped the final buckle. “Let’s go,” the wood elf said as he grabbed his longbow and strode out the door and down the stairs, his long legs carrying him forward like the wind.

“Wait for me!” Mynn called and made his way for the door, but was cut off by Jaxx who had to practically turn sideways to fit down the cramped hallway.

The dwarf sighed and started forward again, but was again cut off, this time by Einar.

“Out of my way, priest!” Mynn rumbled. “The ancestors want these dogs dead!”

Einar chuckled. “By all means,” he said letting the dwarf slip past in the hall.

Erevan bound out the front of the inn and up onto the railing of its front porch as he took in the scene. Gnolls were racing everywhere and were closing fast. The ranger let loose an arrow at one of the dogmen charging in their direction. FWWWIP! The arrow buried itself in the gnoll’s shoulder, but it continued charging.

A greatsword appeared in Jaxx’s hands as he lumbered out of the inn just in time to cut the gnoll off…at the neck, his blade leaving a horizontal sheet of blood in its wake before it splashed to the ground, blood mixing with mud.

Arrows came back from more of the gnolls. One caught Jaxx in the hip. He grimaced as he snapped off its length. “We found your dogmen, Erevan!” he said to the ranger who only nodded in response. More of the dogmen were closing.

“Actually, they found us,” the elf replied

Mynn thundered out of the inn and immediately charged the oncoming gnolls, he pointed at one with his greataxe and cast hunter’s mark. “You’re first!” he roared.

Einar joined them and moved out into the street, “Shael guides you!” he said and cast bless on the other three.

~

Something roared from above.

Ilvander looked up through the smoke and rain and saw it. A wyvern flew overhead. Atop its shoulders was a huge gnoll. It pointed into the town the direction it was flying and howled at the gnolls below.

The monk looked towards where it was pointing. “The Archonian Shrine!” he shouted as he dashed forward weaving through the throngs of gnolls. (Dash, Move, Step of the Wind…monks are what you might call fast.)

“Don’t worry about me,” Vech said to Ilvander’s back as he touched a point on his chest. A pinprick in the fabric of creation appeared on his chest, which was enough to devour all light surrounding him. He was engulfed in darkness, but he could see just fine. A gift of his strange relationship to Glyph.

Gnolls shot arrows into the darkness and started to back away afraid to enter.

~

Erevan had tossed his bow aside and pulled a pair of elven longblades as he bound past the dwarf and into the rushing dogmen. The first thrust caught a gnoll deep in the stomach, which doubled over in pain. Then he spooned its ear with the tip of the other, dropping it to the ground.

Another gnoll lunged forward and caught Erevan’s right calf with its spear. It howled at him.

Jaxx surged past the dwarf as well, causing Mynn to sigh. He removed the outstretched arm of the gnoll who struck the elf at the elbow and carried the momentum forward to strike at another.

Mynn finally entered the fray. The original target of his hunter’s mark was now dead. “I mean you’re first!” he said to another as he transferred the spell. He swung his greataxe for all he was worth, which was quite a lot, and shaved off a leg.

Einar came up behind the trio and pointed at another of the dogmen. A spiritual hawk of white flames dove through the gnoll's body, causing it to howl painfully.

The wyvern roared overhead as it flew past them.

“Look!” Erevan shouted and pointed with one of his blades as it swept by.

~

Ilvander continued to race through the back alleys of town on route to the shrine. Gnolls shot at him as he went. He caught an arrow across the back of his forearm, but kept going.

One of the dogmen lunged out at him from the corner of a building with an axe swinging for his head. Using his momentum, the monk slid under the attack, popped back up to his feet, leapt headfirst through the rungs of a fence, rolled back up to his feet and continued his way forward. (À la Jackie Chan.) The gnoll gave chase, but it was quickly left behind.

Still near the gates of the town, Vech was blasting gnolls from within the darkness.

~

The wyvern crashed onto the dome of the shrine, creating a crack in its ceiling and began to pull the crack apart creating a large hole. The mighty gnoll upon its back cackled gleefully.

Erevan and Mynn started to run for the shrine. Jaxx made his way towards the edge of the city where other villagers were fighting for their lives. Einar watched the last of the immediate gnolls burn down to the ground in sacred, white fire.

Ilvander came running up to the shrine. Three of the townsfolk lay dead at its doors, which were barred shut. He peered into a narrow stained-glass window in time to see the wyvern and its rider land with a thud inside the circular chamber.

Inside the shrine, Pryor Valmay fell back onto the floor as the wyvern landed. One hand held up before himself in defense. “Please!” he said fearfully.

“Where is it?!” the gnoll shouted as it leapt from the wyverns back to loom over Valmay. “Where is the key?!”

Ilvander had seen enough. He took a step back and leapt through the window with a crash, rolling up to his feet to stand before the wyvern and the gnoll.

The gnoll was massive and powerful. Its muzzle had deep scars and a cloud of gnats clouded around it. The wyvern reared and flared out its wings, its tail pointing menacingly at the monk.

“Lokela preserve!” Ilvander whispered and cast sanctuary. (One must appreciate how ballsy this was of Ilvander’s player. Four of the other PCs had just died in the previous session. They knew that not only were the kiddy gloves off, but they had been thrown away.)

The gnoll lunged at the monk…and pulled up short. “What is this?” it howled in rage. Likewise, the wyvern swept forward with one beat of its wings and couldn’t bring itself to strike Ilvander. The wyvern’s high-pitched wail of frustration was deafening in the spherical chamber.

“Hide!” Ilvander shouted at Pryor Valmay and whirled on the door. He tried to lift it, but the bar was wedged in place from the townsfolk who died trying to find sanctuary within.

The monk closed his eyes briefly and remembered his training under Master Kaia and struck the heavy beam with the palm of his hand causing it to snap cleanly in half! (I awarded inspiration for the ballsy move to save the shrine, which he spent on shattering the bar of the door. Well played, Ilvander. Well played indeed.)

The doors flung open as the monk bound through. The wyvern came chasing behind. It beat its wings at the stop of the short stairs as it screeched, sending cinders of fire billowing through the streets.

An arrow found a home in its chest, bringing the screeching to an end. Erevan was standing across the street from the shrine, bow in hand.

The wyvern lunged forward, but Mynn charged past the ranger to bring it up short. A mighty swing left a huge gash through the membrane of a wing.

A moonfire hawk raked its talons across its head as Einar arrived.

~

The gnolls had suffered long enough and three of them decided to charge into Vech’s darkness swinging wildly. One got in a lucky hit and the warlock grunted in pain, but held onto his magic. He struck the dogman in the chest with an eldritch blast, sending it back ten feet.

Jaxx arrived and barreled into the darkness as well. He hewed the blasted gnoll down and carried the momentum forward to strike another.

“You can see?” Vech asked him.

“Why wouldn’t I?” the hulking warrior replied, apparently oblivious to the darkness.

(Yup, both warlocks. Both have devil’s sight. This is an annoying combination. /sigh)

~

The wyvern snapped down on Mynn’s shoulder, leaving blood seeping from the wound before its tail snapped forward and pierced the same wound, leaving a viscous poison. (Somebody needs to remind me not to waste good poison attacks on dwarves in the future.)

“Ancestors take you!” the dwarf screamed as his axe welled with red light. He brought it down in a mighty arc and chopped the front of the wyvern’s foot off. Toes bounced along the cobblestones. (Critical smites are bad for business.)

The wyvern wailed as it hobbled about awkwardly shaking the last claws from what remained of its foot. Erevan moved in and impaled it twice, one piercing deep into the lungs of the beast. It gave one more croaking roar and fell forward in a hump.

~

Ilvander returned to the shrine and found Pryor Valmay huddled behind one of the shrines. “The gnoll?”

The old man pointed back at the hole in the roof. “It fled,” he explained.

“What was it asking about? What is this key it sought?” Ilvander asked.

The priest shook his head. “I have no idea what it was talking about.”

~

The six of them fought on through much of the night, killing or driving away the remaining dogmen. There had been a concentrated attack upon the reeve’s manor as well, but they were defended by the visiting Brakari of all people.