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The Twilight Paths Campaign (Updated 7/30 - Questions from Above)

Destan

Citizen of Val Hor
Cinerarium said:
In typical Kazir fashion he waited patiently for his turn to speak, hearing from all sides and points before responding. “Good dwarves, I have heard that you value plain speech so I will not mince words. You have read our reasons for being here correctly. We sought out Durgeddin’s lair of old to search for his legendary arms. You have also tested our hearts and we have done you a great favor. If you do indeed have the power to return our friend from the dead then I ask that for MY reward. I have no need of steel weapons, no matter how fine. My friends have earned the choice of arms you promised them.

“As for your restrictions on Durgeddin’s artifice leaving these halls, I ask why? In the hands of heroes, how many more orcs could be slain? Ten? Twenty? One hundred? Certainly more than lying lost and unused in some forgotten cavern. If Durgeddin were here would this not be his wish? His weapons, his revenge, could be eternal.

“I stand by my word and will leave them untouched if that is your desire. But others will come eventually and you will be gone. Shall you depend on their honor, or ours?”

I looked at Kazir, in awe. Again our quiet monk cut through all of the questions surrounding us to deliver a masterful response. I have so much to learn from him. There is more to him than greed, and I regret writing such.

I think those are my favorite paragraphs so far. Unless your DM is a miserly bastard, he should have given Kazir bonus XP's for his idea and Tryn bonus XP's for recounting it - so eloquently - here. :)

D
 

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frostrune

First Post
I think those are my favorite paragraphs so far. Unless your DM is a miserly bastard, he should have given Kazir bonus XP's for his idea and Tryn bonus XP's for recounting it - so eloquently - here.

Yeah that would have been nice. Too bad Destan is a miserly bastard.

Heh.

frostrune
 

Lela

First Post
Okay, you've got a Prophecy on your hands and an invitation to an allience with a powerful Outsider. Those are always bad things.

For PCs that is. For the players themselves (and the DM), there can be much fun.
 

Cinerarium

First Post
frostrune said:


Yeah that would have been nice. Too bad Destan is a miserly bastard.

Heh.

frostrune

Yay! Kazir makes his appearance on the board! All bow down at his wisdom!

I seriously got to get this board all caught up with the game, but no time for updates until next week. Sorry!

Cin
 

Cinerarium

First Post
Hammer 17, cont.

We awoke from the shared dream to the sounds of muffled conversation at the outer set of doors. I have been dreading what would happen when we left this chamber for the outside world, knowing that we would likely face an ambush outside. Knowing that they were outside right now, we decided to lay an ambush ourselves.

I called upon Deneir, blessed be His name, to give me insight into the thoughts of our foes on the other side of the doors. Concentrating for a few moments, I determined that there were not many awaiting us, perhaps five. One of them, that I guessed was the leader, was frustrated with the others. He was sure we were inside the room, but his companions were too scared to enter. As a compromise, they were waiting for us outside for the time being.

Toth and Fineon took positions near the doors as I readied my crossbow and blessed the group. Fin also buffed himself with the power of his faith, and Kazir readied his own ghostly armor. On cue, Fin caused the doors to slide open. Our first attacks to our enemies were by surprise, and my crossbow bolt sunk deeply into an orc waiting outside! I had managed to finally kill a foe in combat!

The others made quick work of the rest of the enemies. Their leader, a human wizard of some kind, was taken alive but unconscious. Quickly, we bound and gagged him, and pulled the bodies into the room, letting the doors close again. If any of their friends come to investigate, they will only find bloody trails leading into the room they know is filled with death.

Quickly we descended again to where we had narrowly survived out fight with the dragon. Hopping carefully along the stones in the pond, we came closer to the island. It looked to be the dragon’s nest, and also the setting for a stone sarcophagus. Coins littered the ground around the sarcophagus, along with a number of items bearing Durgeddin’s mark. Swiftly we packed all of the loot, carefully avoiding the sarcophagus, that I could see had the dwarven rune “D” inscribed upon it. We wished to leave Durgeddin in peace.

By the time we returned to the elemental chamber, our guest had awoken on the pile of orc bodies where we had left him. He looked mortified at our appearance. A tense questioning followed. This Morgulio, a Pellman originally from Formyr, said that he and his fellow wizard that we had slain when we first entered the caverns, what seems an eternity ago, had taken up residence here to do research and perhaps found a school for other wizards. He said he would do us no harm, and that his men, now dead, were the last of the defenders of this place in the upper warrens. Now we had to decide what to do with him.

Toth and Fineon were in favor of killing him, then and there. Kazir was ambivalent, and I wished to let him go. Finally I persuaded my companions that he no longer posed a threat to us. I think this may have caused Toth to lose some respect for me, but I could not in good conscience allow a man to be killed in cold blood. I made Morgulio swear that he would hurt no others, except in self defense; that he would return to Pell, and give us whatever information we sought when we asked in the future; and that he would send one thousand gold pieces, that he said he had, to the Temple of Deneir in Harren in our names.

I feel some trepidation that he would keep his word, but I think that he may prove to be a valuable ally. We set out then, confidant we had cleaned out Khundrakar and would be rewarded well by Lord Macon.

Oh, how good it felt to breathe fresh air again! To hear the pine trees sway in the breeze! To feel the cold tang of winter air in Luc Valu! I had been far too long in the depths.

It occurred to Kazir at this point that our ride back to Harren, Peb the fisherman, would long since have given up looking for us. Morgulio came to our aid, revealing the location of two skiffs that he and his companions had used to get here. We camped for the night at the foot of Khundrakar.
 

Lela

First Post
I hope that Wizard works out for you. They can be powerful allies if they don't turn on you.


What happened to the dragon? Did he decide to avoid you instead of coming back?
 

Cinerarium

First Post
Hammer 18

A disagreement this morning, as we again pressed Morgulio for his oath to not betray us. This morning we were able to use divine magic to press him for the truth. Unfortunately, the magic did us little good, as none of it could bind him to a promise, and so we eventually decided to let him go, naked in the wilderness. Out of kindness, Kazir returned the wizard’s spellbook, having copied the few spells he could use from it.

We made good progress, and camp now on the shore. We should reach the skiffs tomorrow.

Hammer 19

We found the dhows at the end of the day. We will set out tomorrow for Harren.

Our encounter with the dragon recently reminded me of the scroll I received from Brother Omad some time ago. I include a copy here for those interested:

Being an Excerpt from the Fourth Volume of Archmage Destan the Grim's Scaled Tome, as presented at the 1344 DR Shieldmeet, Covenshire, Valudia

"...and so perished the last of the noble and good dragons within Ostia Prim. Since that time, during the ending of the Age of Forests, never has mankind seen a good dragon alive upon these lands.

"As for their evil counterparts, they remain, but in short supply. The race of dragons is clearly dying. Dragon Vale, once covered with feces and other tell-tale signs of dragonkind, has been quiet of late. No Great Wyrm has been seen since Ul'Daegol, the Doom Lizard, was slain. While the numbers of wyverns and other serpentine beasts seems to have moderately increased these past five score years, the number of true dragons has not.

"I feel it only appropriate to herein note a commonly held belief, since this section deals specifically with conjectures surrounding dragonkind. Many scholars, of whom I am one, believe that dragons immediately sense when one of their number has perished. The true debate begins when sages and scholars attempt to determine if dragons know any details concerning the death of their brethren, or whether this knowledge is limited by geographic or planar distance.

"Irrefutably, there exists no proof to either argument.

"I will cite one of many such tales as evidence that dragons learn nothing other than the fact that one of their kind has been lost. When Parren Gal'Galen of Luc Valu slew the young black dragon within the Dead Fens in 897 DR, he was not accosted by another dragon until two years after the battle. The good paladin had sworn a vow of silence after losing his companions in the combat. Yet the vow ended seven-hundred days after he left the Dead Fens, and Sir Parren told of his exploit to the priests of his order once he could speak again. The news spread quickly within Valudia. Twenty days after he broke his vow, Sir Parren was slain by a massive blue dragon supposedly hailing from the Borsk range. It appeared he was unmolested by dragons until he boasted of the deed, and such a tale gives credence to my belief that dragons learn of mankind's victories only through their own wagging tongues.

"Further, Micandeus of Basilica completed a recent study concerning the fates of known dragonslayers within the Age of Empires and the Age of Iron. The wise elf wanted to determine if the so-called 'Dragonslayer’s Doom' was fact or fiction. His research indicates that a dragonslayer’s life expectancy is no more than a few years after the date of their first dragon-killing.

"There are exceptions, certainly, and the Lord Marshal Gorum Ulmyridon comes to mind, but Micandeus' statistics seem to be in order. The most telling information, of course, is that a full three-fifths of known dragonslayers were eventually slain by another dragon.

"Karadas of Arens, in particular, is an interesting study - he slew his first dragon at age seventeen and was ambushed by additional dragons for the next five years, each stronger than the last. The puissant Arenite slew no less than thirteen dragons, one of which was an ancient male. Karadas died in a fall while scaling the Pinnacle of Carabus, so he dodged the normal fate of dragonslayers, but it was widely known that he scanned the heavens whenever he ventured outdoors, fearful of their incessant assaults. Furthermore, he forbade his warrior sons to ever hunt dragonkind. Since that time, most folk on the mainland refer to the Dragonslayer’s Doom as Karadas' Curse.

"To close, let it be known: Be wary of slaying a dragon, but be more wary once the deed is done!"
 

Cinerarium

First Post
Lela said:
I hope that Wizard works out for you. They can be powerful allies if they don't turn on you.


What happened to the dragon? Did he decide to avoid you instead of coming back?

Well you know the fate of the wizard, and with this post know we're scared of the dragon as well. I think he was wounded enough and without healing magic to not pursue us immediately. Since then we've traveled as a group or been in large cities, so if he's after us then he'll have to wait until we do something foolish, or hire people.

Don't give Destan ideas though!
 


Cinerarium

First Post
Hammer 22

Early in the morning Fin waved his hand back at Toth and me in the other skiff. “Harren lies ahead!” he called out.

My spirit lifted, glad to be back in civilization after so long, craving a bath and clean clothes. The nits in my hair had been driving me to distraction, and the cold damp of our river journey was giving me a cough.

Soon enough we pulled up our skiffs to an empty berth and hopped ashore, Toth and Fineon carrying the bulk of our goods. We moved to quickly get away from the docks and into the crowds before any trouble could spot us, but were too late to avoid a pair of dock wardens, hurrying towards us.

“Ho there!” the elder one called, his grimy mustache quivering under his red, bulbous nose. “What have we here? A strange troupe indeed!” His lackey cohort grinned and nodded.

“Hello, my good dockward. My thanks for welcoming us back to Harren. I suppose we’ll be on our way now…” I moved to pass on by.

“Hold up a moment, son. Let’s see what you’re bringing back into the Sevencity with ye. You know the rules, there’s a tax on all that enters the city.”

“We have little wealth, my good man, and my companions and I are in a great hurry.” I lowered my voice conspiratorially. “Can I simply give you ten crowns and call it even?”

The old guard’s eyes widened a bit. “If you can part with ten, you can surely part with twenty five.”

I cursed myself for opening too high. “Always open low when making an offer, young Pater,” Wynt the Pellman had told me when I used to frequent the docks with my father. “You can always go higher, but it’s impossible to go back, and it’ll give your adversary too much of your inner mind.”

“Fifteen’s the absolute highest I can afford,” I deadpanned, thinking of the tens of thousands of coins in wealth we carried.

He looked us over. “Well, fifteen’s a reasonable entry fee, and I’d hate to delay you.” He took the proffered coins. As I began to leave, he put a grimy hand on my chest. “You wouldn’t be carrying any narcotics, now, would ye?”

A trickle of sweat began to build in my armpits, thinking of the Tears of Lys Fin had in his pack. “What kind of smuggler do you take me for? I’ve paid your graft, now leave me be!” With a sneer, I passed him by. The penalties for narcotics smuggling in Harren are quite high.

Now inside the city, we decided it best to quickly bathe, eat, and proceed to Lord Macon’s with all haste. Arriving again at his estate in the Coinsward, Miralda greeted us and showed us back into Lord Macon’s study. What a change in surroundings a few days can bring! Where recently I had been sleeping on cold stone amidst the corpses of orcs, now I sat at ease by a crackling fire in the comfortable study of a Lord!

I’ll spare you the details of the negotiations that took place, save to say that we disposed of a number of the late Durgeddin’s horde with Lord Macon, and reaped a nice bounty. Several items we kept for ourselves though, and I believe all sides were pleased with the transaction. I even managed to convince Lord Macon to agree to allow Deneirites to study the dwarven runes I had found in various places in Khundrakar, so long as they vowed to remove nothing.

We left, lighter in items but significantly heavier in coin. The skies were quickly growing dark and a cold wind blew through Harren, promising snow overnight. I begged off from my companions, saying that I would meet them in the morning at the Temple. Instead of proceeding directly there, I made haste to the guard tower, also in the Coinsward, to see if Sergeant Sheptin was in. I wanted to see how the old Sergeant was doing, and buy him a drink if he was coming off duty.

By the time I made the few blocks to the tower, I could see the guards changing for the night shift, a number coming and going. I made eye contact with one who looked decent. “Excuse me, but I’m looking for Sergeant Sheptin. Do you know if he’s coming on duty now?”

The guardsman looked me up and down. I had changed into a new courtier’s outfit and cloak following my bath, but was bundled up well against the foul weather, my cough still plaguing me. “The Sergeant’s not in the city now,” he said, and moved to walk on past.

“I’m sorry to keep bothering you, but might you know when he’ll be back?”

“He’s on city business; I wouldn’t know. Good eve.”

I remembered now that Sheptin said he took his family down to Cymeria every winter when he had time off. I suppose that’s where he is.

I returned to the Temple, greeted the brothers at vigil, asked for a meeting with Omad in the morning, and went to the temple pantry. I ran into Brother Ells Three Words there, and we decided to split a loaf of bread and some salted meat. I helped myself to some cider and we settled in for a chat. The old man is very likable, and I found myself listening to his yarns until quite late, when I was deep into my cups, and he had nodded off in the middle of a story. I put a blanket over him and stumbled to my room, my head clear enough to write this tale.
 

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