Wizardru's Story Hour (updated 11/21)

[WizarDru]

Bentwith was a simple man, with simple desires. The problem with the world, by his reckoning, was that it didn't provide him with ample opportunity to fulfill them. He wanted what all men wanted: power, women, comfort...the right to choose who lived and died. It made killing, rape and torture much easier. And who wouldn't want to do that?

That's why he was out here in this forsaken field in the darkest hours of the night, waiting for a bag of gold.

"Bentwith?", came the near-whisper.

He stared out into the darkness, trying to make out the caller. All he could see was farmland, spread out for miles ahead of him, and piles of rolled hay dotting the landscape. His heart started to beat faster...even though he had no reason to fear. No one knew he was here, no one knew what he was up to, except for...

"Fisk?" he replied, his voice more excited than he wanted it to be. "Is that you?"

"No, fool, it's the Sorghum and Barley talking!" was the hissed answer, somehow managing to seem like a shout, even though he doubted one could hear it even five feet away. "Do you have the information that I crave? Did you learn what I wanted to know?"

"Where are you? I cannot see you. I don't work with shadows." He hadn't just started doing this, after all. Had Fisk forgotten how this worked?

A cloaked figure steeped seemingly from out of nowhere. It was Fisk, sure enough. Had he been hiding behind the hay? Bentwith's eyes must be failing him. That, or he was just too damnedly tired.

"Satsified? Now, did you find out what I wished?" More insistent? Good...that means a better reward.

Bentwith hesitated for a moment. He had been feeding Fisk information for years, but this request had been odd, for him. He had been acting as a spy, because it gave him a visceral thrill, but this wasn't the normal kind of information he collected...or that Fisk wanted, for that matter. His instincts told him that something wasn't right...but the money was good, so he ignored it. It wasn't the first time he was worried. Still, in for a penny, in for a pound.

"Yes. A fool cleric was at the Crossed Swords, last night. He's obviously never learned how to hold his tongue or his drink. I got him in his cups and found him a wench. He talked well and long." The pride in his voice was self-evident. And why not? He was good at what he did.

"A wench?"

"Aye. Not to worry, though, Gwendolyn knows how to keep her mouth shut and her shirt open. She's not a bright one, that lass....but she knows how to cloud a man's head, sure enough. She even convinced the fool that she needed private instructions in the faith." He laughed, and found himself sweating, despite the cold. He hated the girl, in truth. She only cared for gold, and the tavern's wayward fool of a singer. He'd be the death of that damnable bard one day.

"And what did the fool say?"

Fisk was clearly only in the mood for business, tonight. No banter. Fine, then. He wasn't enjoying this ridiculous business, in any case.

"He said that they'd recovered the bones weeks ago. Safekept them in his local chapel, and now they've been moved to the Chapterhouse in the city. They've been venerated and interred. The fat pig was proud, as if offering up his one chance at fame and glory was a virtue."

"You see, I told you. We've missed them, here. Let's finish our business and reclaim them." This was said in a completely different tone, almost a different voice. It didn't even sound like it was addressed to him. Had Fisk lost his mind? Fisk's eyes had never left Bentwith...but they looked hungry, almost feral. His heart suddently skipped a beat.

"VERY WELL. MAKE USE OF THIS ONE. I WILL DEAL WITH THIS WENCH, AND THE CLERIC, AS WELL." A new voice...a deep bass filled with quiet malice. Where was it coming from? He heard the dull thuds of heavy footfalls, heading towards the road. He turned back to Fisk.

"What...who was that? Fisk...?" Bentwith turned to run....or tried to. His legs felt like lead, and his heart, if possible, began to beat faster. Fisk began lazily walking towards him, his features melting like hot wax. He pushed the cloak off of his shoulders, allowing it to fall to the ground. Fisk was.....a woman. Naked. Beautiful. Moreso than any woman ever was. His eyes ran with tears to see her. His desire battled with his terror as she approached. Her eyes, her wings, her perfect form...it was more than he could stand.

"Oh, lover, do not weep so." Her too-perfect voice was sullied by his ears hearing it. Had any woman ever spoken more beautiful things? "I will satisfy you, and you will satisfy me." Bentwith was overwhelmed with devotion and love. When her tongue lashed out at his neck, and her sweet, sweet poison began coursing through his veins, he knew that she would give him all that deserved. She stroked his hair, and stepped back a few paces. Somewhere in the distance, he heard screaming. The most perfect being who was not Fisk cast her gaze beyond Bentwith, to somewhere he could not see.

"Oh, how unfortunate. He's so immediate. I'd best hurry, or he'll have burned the village to the ground without me. And there's so much love for me to share. Goodbye sweetling, I have to go or there'll be no one left alive for me."

Bentwith began weeping. He pleaded with her not to leave. She was all he had ever wanted. She was power, women and comfort, all in one. She would be his wife...didn't she see that? She leaned down and whispered in his ear.

"Oh, don't cry my love. I would not leave you cold in your bed, all alone. I brought someone with me...and she wishes for you to have her babies." Bentwith didn't understand, and cried and begged for her to stay. Because of this, he scarecly noticed the hulking shape that approached. It blocked out the moon, but paralyzed as he was, he could see no more. But she wasn't like not-Fisk...he knew that.

And when some foul juice fell from her huge mouth and several small creatures fell with it, he was glad, because the beautiful creature who's name he had not learned (and why should he learn it? He wasn't worthy of it) had willed it. They were small, compared to their mother, but still obscenely large for her young. They crawled towards him, in an obscene race. One he never even saw reached him first.

He heard screaming again, much closer this time. It took him a moment to realize that it was his own. In that scant moment, he realized three things. He wept to realize that he would never see that beautiful creature again. He wept as he realized he was dying. And finally, he wept as he understood that it was attaching to his spine. In his moment of clarity, he looked up at the mother towering over him.
And then she opened her eye, and he died.

A minute later, her baby got up and walked away.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Join us for the next chapter of Undying: "Sudden Death".

Game: Friday, Update early next week.

 

[WizarDru]

And to prove I'm a man of my word, I'll load up one of the pictures of a Gith Warrior that Scorch did. This is a quickie picture you understand, so please forgive the blurry nature of it.

The main reason I haven't posted any other mini pics yet is that they all require Valanthe's expert photoshop skillz to clean them up, and the Meepites would crucify me if I put up bad shots of their minis. Scorch and Kayleigh in particular do some outstanding work, and I'd like to see them done correctly.

As for me...well, let's just say that I'm a much better DM than painter, and leave it at that.

You can't tell in this pic, but Scorch went so far as to mod a set of minis and then file their noses off to make them Gith. It's pretty nifty. Dig.

 

[WizarDru]

By the way, how *did* Kobold Country stop the adventurers, anyway? Or are the new forces in this city so powerful even adventurers decided not to chance it?

I just realized that I never responded to this, as I was going through previous updates.

Short answer: Meepo's 'tribe' is fairly competent. Not even a blip on the SSOM's radar, but very intimidating to a party of 10th level characters. When you consider that there are now somewhere about 500+ inhabitants of Kobold Country, and that includes Haggarak and the Noble Croak, Wan Yu, lots of awakened Trees, ogres, rogue drow, freebooting wizards and a host of Geoff refugees....well, they talked them down, and then the two groups of adventurers to arrive so far have 'gone native'.

 

[WizarDru]

And, to make sure that I posted mini pictures (plural, not singular), I have two more minis to post for you.

These have both seen use at the table, usually as NPCs or monsters. One is a chainmail mini, and the other is another modified Githyanki, both from Scorch. Note again how Scorch removed the nose, and the detail on the axe grips and gith's face. Valanthe cleaned these up and did some wizardry with them, so they look much better than the previous, I think.

You be the judge:

And here's another one for you:

Our only fear is that Scorch is going to go blind, doing the detail work on the eyes with a single-hair brush. ​

 

[Aethramyr]

Forging

Heat. Hammer. Temper...Heat. Hammer. Temper. Forges have a rhythm to them similar to something bards can create. The forge at Ruun-Khazai is excellent, and my skills at the forge have improved greatly working on it. I know it won’t be enough to forge weapons the equal of the Great Elvin blades, however. I’m not sure if any forges exist that can, on the prime. But what I’m forging only needs to meet the needs of this new village. Knives, Axe blades, short swords for protection in the wilderness. Nothing for war, today, but sweat getting into some smaller wounds stung, reminding me of past battles.

I was working when a small, polite cough alerted me to another presence in the room with me.

“M..My lord?” a small voice said.

Pausing in mid hammer-swing, I saw one of Meepo’s Kobold friends. I’ve given up trying to keep track of which one. I recognize Meepo, and most of his Cadre. And Harem, it seems. But after that they’re hard to tell apart.

“Hello. What can I do for you?”

“Lady S`rrusus is looking for you”

“I’m here already, little one.” A new voice.

And she was. Lady S`rrusus was the leader of the small band of dark elves who made their home in the new village. She was dressed rather formally for friendly chat. And I was dressed for working a forge, not for company.

This Kobold was quick. “May I present Lady S`rrusus, My Lord”

I bowed informally, and dismissed the Kobold “Greetings Lady S`rrusus. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

She looked at me, smiled oddly, and spoke. I couldn’t tell if she was mocking me or genuinely piqued at me. Knowing the female of the speicies relationship with the male Drow, probably the later.

“Greetings, My lord. When we first spoke at the Inn, you had asked me for an oath of loyalty. I was wondering when you would get around to taking it from myself and the other Drow.”

That explains the formal dress. When we met I had asked S`rrusus if the Drow would be willing to take an oath that there intentions at Ruun-Khazai were honorable. I wiped some sweat away from a small scratch on my shoulder, considering for a bit. Maybe too long.

“My lord?” she grew impatient.

“At the moment, I don’t know.” I told her truthfully. “When, or even if.”

I expected the confused reaction. “What? I thought it would be a condition of us staying here.”

“It may be.” I said. “For myself, your willingness to take the oath was enough. But Kayleigh, and I would guess other elves in general, they might not be quite so tolerant. Truthfully, I’m surprised she didn’t return from Celene with a contingent of archers at her back.” She hardened at the thought “Swearing an oath might go a long way to lessoning some of her anxiety over having you here.”

She seemed to understand, and was quiet for a moment. Then looked at me again, and smiled like she just figured something out. “but there’s more to it, isn’t there?”

I was impressed, and nodded. “There is. But it would be a easier to show you. Meet me at the entrance to this main building in an hour. Dress warm.”

She looked oddly at me after that last statement, Nodded, and said “Very Well. One hour. My lord?”

“Yes?”

“Not all of those scratches are from battle, are they?” she asked.

She knew the answer. “One might argue that they were, if they knew the other combatant. One hour, my lady.”

And she left.

I set about shutting down the forge, and preparing for a quick trip to the Land of Black Ice.

______________________

An hour later, We were trudging through the land of black Ice. Bolo almost went into a fit when I told him who I was taking, but he was more shocked then upset. I asked him to contact Ravenna and the Owl Just so noone would be too surprised to see us, and a hasty disguise spell kept most people from getting upset at seeing a Drow in their midst.

My Companion spoke "I'm amazed at the diversity of places you surface dwellers can live, but I don't see how this explains why you havn't taken our oath..."

"Not just live, but Thrive. This community, though small, is doing well even in one of the harshest climates in the land. But more importantly, Look there. What do you see?"I pointed her gaze in the direction of one of the small shops. In the window, she could see one of the propriters was..

"A blue bugbear?!" She exclaimed. Then pondered for a moment. "But aren't bugbears...? Her question trailed off.

I smiled. "let's find out.", and opened the door. This shop was a small Tailoring shop. Most of his wares were utilitarian in nature, blankets and warm clothes for the climate, but some had intricate patterns and colors sewn into them and were quite well made.

"Greetings My lord and Lady" Said the proprieter, looking up from his work. "I am called Mut. Welcome to my shop" He still had the thick accent to his speech that most bugbears have when speaking common, but his grandiose choice of words made me think he was someone who took great pride in learning the language.

"Is there something I can help you with?" he continued.

"A warm cloak, for my companion, I think. And some information. Do you know where we can find Tavik?" Tavik was the leader of the tribe of Bugbears."

"I'm afraid I do not know where Tavik is, sir."

A new voice entered the conversation "Tavik is Journeying." This Voice was old, but still strong. "He is on a personal pilgrimage. Is there something I can do for you, Paladin of Sehanine?"

I turned to see the Old Bugbear Shaman, leaning against a staff. S`rrusus took a step away, but when I didn't Immediatly take out a weapon, she relaxed. I bowed respectfully.

"Greetings to you, Elder. I was Looking for Tavik, to get some information, but I think your insights might be more of interest to my companion."

"Ah, yes, your companion. The bones told me you and your dark friend would be comming. To be honest, when I Understood it was you, and that you would be travelling with one of the Drow, I almost did not believe the bones."

I smiled. "well, since you are here, tell us, How do the Villagers and the Bugbears get along these days?"

A frown. "You know they get along fairly well, Paladin. There are some villagers who have dark thoughts about us, and some bugbears who harbor dark thoughts of the villagers, but for the most part they get along fine. This shopkeeper has many Villagers buying his wares, and he spends the money at places run by Villagers. But this is nothing you do not already know."

"I know it, yes." I replied. "But Lady S`rrusus and her breteren have recently moved into a small, newly formed village. I thought she may like to know how it has worked in the past."

The old Shaman looked at S`rrusus, and thought. She seemed to be study her rather intently, then spoke to Her. "When he beat Tavik many moons ago, I thought he was simply a brute for that band of people he was with. After the fight, When he suggested that the Bugbears and the Villagers work together in this climate, I thought him even more foolish. But he had defeated our leader, and we pledged that we would follow his instructions. Many of us, on both sides, did not believe it would be a good thing. But to our surprise, It seems to be. I cannot speak for the villagers, but I think the bugbears's lives have improved enormously. The villager's forges produce weapons that make our people better hunters, and so there is plenty of food for everyone during the dark season. The villagers have come to our aid, and we have come to theirs on more than one occaision, to help with fire or foes." She smiled briefly, as a thought struck her. "The Dragons promised us our land back, and did not win us the land. You made no such promises, And we have our lands. I hope that answers your questions, Paladin." And with that, she left.

S`rrusus and I made our purchase, and left the shop as well, and started back to the arrainged place we would be ported back to Ruun-kahzai.

"Strange friends you have, Paladin."

"Perhaps. Did she answer your questions?"

"Most of them. But still not why you havn't asked for our oath."

"Really? Well, then. One more example. Look at Celene. They had policies of Isolationism for the longest time. Remember I said I half expected that Kayleigh would have archers at her back when she returned? It would have been because Celene saw everyone as members of a race, and not individuals. They would see you as Drow, their hated enemy, and not S`rrusus, someone who was simply trying to escape the underdark. I don't pretend I can change the mind of everyone in Celene, however, and If an Oath is what it would take to have them leave you alone, then That's the price. But for myself I would prefer that you and your bretheren work for the good of the village because they truly believe that it improves their lives as well, and not simply because of some oath."

"So why is it that you didn't attack us, since you're an elf as well?"

I grinned. "I kind of had the feeling I let Kayleigh down when I didn't. But I wasn't raised by Elves, I was raised by humans. And when I was Choosen by Sehanine, I learned from other elves that Paladins were a rare occurance among them. And none before me were Paladins of Sahanine Moonbow. So if I liked it or not, at some point, someone was going to look to me as an example, and I didn't want to set an example of seeing everything as us versus them, and charging blindly into battle. One of Sehanine's worshipers is a Hag, normally a creature many would consider evil. But at some point she had the oppertunity to earn her favor, and I've looked to her for guidance on several occaisions. Meepo is a Kobold, but If we killed him when we first met him, You probably wouldn't be at Ruun-Kazzai. And Scorch would probably have been killed on one of our early adventures together."

"I think I understand. If you assume how someone will act simply because of their race, you'll eventually get it wrong, and the person won't like that."

"Right. and if you're a country, and do it often enough, you won't have to have Isolationist laws. Other countries will Isolate you for you. Or in our case, you get isolated by the other people in the village."

"What you say makes sense. Very well, I'll discuss it with the others. But I think they will see the wisdom of it as well."

"I think they will. Welcome to Ruun-Kahzai, Lady S`rrusus"

And with that, we ported back home.

 

[Argent Silvermage]

Bolo and the Elemental Plane of Water.

Bolo stood in the Mage’s Library reading a book on Aquatic negotiations and generally pestering Scorch. “So you see, I need to right the wrong I’ve done to the Water Elemental kingdom or I’ll be out of harmony with the natural world. So I need your help to get to the Aquatic world.”
Scorch who had been looking forward to a day off from traveling and had already started into ‘Valences and Superfluxations of the Outer Planes’ was deep into to a little light reading. “What’s in it for me?” The mage said giving Bolo one of his patented burn a hole through your chest looks.
“Well we can stop over in Sigil. Maybe you can pick up a book like I just finished. You know the one that trains you to think more clearly.”
“Ah yes. A Tome of Clear Thought of the 5th valance. That would make the trip worth it.” He said and was just about to put his light reading down when out of nowhere he and Bolo heard “Sigil! Count me in!”
Valenthe must have been standing there for some time but as is her way was not even noticed until she actually addressed a person.
And so it was that the three companions went to Sigil the City of Doors.

They found their way easily to Mortimer Fuvex vex vex’s shop and Scorch and Val were able to purchase some new items. Bolo on the other hand found that for some reason Mortimer was unable to see or hear him. In fact Bolo thought back and realized the not once has the shop keep ever noticed him. Not once had he ever looked him in the eye or said hello. Bolo found it unnerving. Scorch found the fact that Mortimer thought Scorch had an “Imaginary” friend named Bolo rather unsettling.
Val decided not to go “swimming” as she joked about the tip to the city of Glass and parted company when Scorch and Bolo found their way to the door to the Aquatic realms. Stepping through they found themselves in the middle of a vast ocean of water. Bolo was at a 180-degree angle from scorch but did not find the change in perspective unsettling as there was no read sense of up and down here.
Bolo shifted into a Triton form in order to breathe and Scorch cast a shape change spell and became a merman. They swam through many gulfs and eddies until they found themselves at the great city of Glass. Imagine a city sized construct of ice and solid water made to look like huge bubbles. Bolo was amazed. Scorch looked on it and said “Feh, this structurally unsound. I could level this place with one spell.”
“I have a bad enough reputation here Scorch. Please don’t say things like that.” The druid replied. They made their way to the porthole leading into the city and were stopped by 2 locathahs. In Aquan they asked “What is your business within the city?” They help tridents of a magical nature and used them to scan the druid and mage. Scorch was ushered through the porthole but when they scanned Bolo their sirens went off. The tow locathahs looked at one another and then back at the druid. Scorch from inside the city wall was trying to tell Bolo something but the sound was not getting through the glass wall.
Obviously in distress the city guards stood shaking in front of Bolo and said “Please don’t do anything rash. We don’t want any trouble.”
Bolo was shocked by their reaction to him. He looked at them and raised his hands in a show that he had no weapons. This act only served to startle the fish men.
“I’m Bolo Brandybuck. I’m here to speak to the Elder Elemental Pool. I don’t want to hurt anyone. Honestly.” At the sound of his name the locathahs both “soiled themselves” leaving a cloud in the water around them.
Embarrassed for them, Bolo simply repeated himself and stood there in the muck awaiting their superior. From the Claxton bell going off he assumed the chief of security would be there shortly.
After a few moments he saw a Lizard person with a peg leg and a hook come to the portal door and Bolo was escorted in. He and Scorch were led through the air breathers’ areas and to the council chamber of the Pool of Elders.
Bolo looked into the pool and saw the shapes within. They rose up out of the water slowly these massive beings of liquid and their eldest spoke to Bolo and the Mage.
“We have anticipated your coming Druid. What do you want here?” the elder asked.
Bolo bowed and tried to speak but Scorch spoke first and managed to make it seem as if Bolo could not speak for himself. “He’s here to see if he can’t get this nonsense over with. We all had a few laughs about the situation at first but it’s starting to effect Bolo’s efficiency and we can’t have that.” Scorch said mortifying Bolo and setting a bad tone for the talks.
Bolo was quick to respond to Scorch’s attempt at diplomacy. “Great Ones. I am here to make reparations to those who my arrogance and lack of thought have harmed.”
The elder looked at Bolo and read the charges. “Brandybuck you have summoned the forms of two of our kind and through ill thought out actions did cause them great harm. The first was when you were battling to save Brindenford and you summoned an Elemental to aid you and you decided it was a good idea to toss vials of a horribly toxic acid into the body of that august wave. Did you expect that kind of treatment was valid?”
“I have no words Great One. I did not think the liquid could harm the Elemental. I was wrong and have tried to be more thoughtful in my summonings since then.” The druid replied.
The Elder did not seem moved by Bolo’s explanation. “What of the other one?” It said raising out of the pool to a height of 30’ a wave of water that could easily crown a human trading ship. “You summoned one of the pool to the Elemental plane of Fire. You offered it no protections and it evaporated instantly. What do you have to say for yourself?”
Bolo almost in tears just looked up at the huge vortex of water and said, “I have no excuse. Not really. I was fighting for my life and thought the water elemental would help keep me alive. In the heat of battle I had forgotten just where I was. As soon as the Portal opened I realized I had doomed the elder but I didn’t have time to get a spell off to protect it. My sorrow for this act is greater even then the breath of this plane.” The elder saw that Bolo was shedding water for the Elder’s benefit and sank back down until just its crest was visible above the surface.
“Young Druid We can understand when a being like your companion does these things. Wizards do not fully realize the use of conjured beings except as an effect to be used and discarded.” The Elder said.
Scorch just said “Feh.” And let it go.
Bolo looked into the vast waters and finally understood why the Water elementals had refused to help him.
“You we hold to a much higher standard. A druid of your power and lineage must be thoughtful. We accept your apology and will grant you access to our realm again but only on a probationary basis. You are being watched Brandybuck.” The elder said and sank back into the pool.

Bolo and Scorch returned to Rhuun-Kazia with a focus for plane shifting to the Plane of Water for scorch and Dravot and one eased mind for Bolo. Seeing his charge return-sopping wet Windsaber just raised his head and said, “I’m very happy I wasn’t asked to go.”

 

[WizarDru]

In the heat of battle I had forgotten just where I was.

Heh. 'Heat of battle'. That's a good one.

As DM, of course, I get to add the standard boiler-plate that Bolo's account is somewhat...ahem, skewed. Particularly with Scorch's reaction to the accusation of wizards not respecting or considering elemental harmony. Mainly, Scorch agreed....he just didn't care. It may not have been apparent, but Bolo didn't just loose the ability to summon water elementals, but he also lost the ability to assume their form.

The Elder Pool cut Bolo off because he's a druid, just as they wouldn't cut Scorch off for the same behavior. Druids are, by necessity, held to a higher standard, at least as far as Elementals are concerned. And a sentence of some importance that got left out was this: "Considering the current events on the Prime, we may be the only ones you can call upon, soon, so you had best consider our relationship well."

The visit to Sigil was also quite amusing. They found that Fuvex(3) had moved, and now can be found in the Noble's Ward. Upon seeing Scorch enter, he became Mr. Rourke from Fantasy Island "Places! Places, Everyone!" They managed to pawn off the Ring of Disintegrate (Target: Self Only), and negotiate a good deal for some items.

However, Bolo noticed, this time, that Fuvex(3) only addressed Scorch, and after a quick sense motive check, realized he acted as if Bolo wasn't even there....and always had. This led to an Abbott and Costello routine for several minutes, with FuVex-Vex-Vex determining that Scorch had a "friend" (nudge-nudge wink-wink) named Bolo. This made Scorch a little hot under the collar, when the tiefling offered him a set of Bracers of Light for "Bolo" to use as Bracers of Armor +4. After all, poor Fuvie was under the impression that Scorch had come alone, not with two companions....and when he heard that Valanthe was about, he merely took Scorch's word for it. He hasn't seen Val, physically, since she was first at the shop, 8 levels ago, was it?

During this sequence, Zad turned to me and said, "This just writes itself, doesn't it?"

 

[Zad]

Undying - Chapter 5

Undying – Chapter 5

OOC Notes:
Exp for 22nd is 2500, for 23rd is 2000.

This Week’s Adventure:
Aethramyr just brought disturbing news. He attempted to find the Silverring though the Dreaming, but was not successful. Worse, he found the dreamscape was transformed with disturbing images floating throughout the area, making it hard to focus.

Valanthe also took some time to scout around Kalstrand. She reported any number of unusual activities and creatures in the area and Orcus is definitely up to something significant there. They have largely uncovered the isometril prison of the Primal but have not yet breached it.

Then things got worse. Much worse.

Dravot received a message – the temple at Hexpools had been attacked. When we arrived, we learned the grim truth.

The church was not attacked – it was defiled. The altar was smashed, the floor gouged by massive claws. Written in blood above the altar was a twisted, foul script. In the demonic tongue it said “Orcus says hello.”

Most of the priests were dead, hanging from the ceiling with an inventiveness only the depraved could have. The one who was alive had been driven mad by what he had seen and there were abyssal symbols carved onto his skin. He was babbling continually about “her”. “She was so beautiful… shouldn’t have looked… so hideous… what she did with the bones…”

“The bones” turned out to be the bones of Bellamy. They had recently been found and brought here to be interred. The creatures that attacked the temple stole the skull and defiled the rest.

Dravot set about restoring the church, both physically and spiritually. The attack of the dragons had been bad but it was not specific; this attack shocked and terrified the clergy and worshippers alike for it was as brutal and vile as it was specific. For me, the shock was somewhat different: I could not believe Pelor allowed this to happen in one of his churches. I had spoke abstractly of the gods turning their backs on the Prime, but now it seemed rather more material. And what of the others? If Pelor has abandoned his faithful, what about Corellian? I could not even let myself ponder that.

During services the next morning, Dravot looked up from the pulpit and saw a figure standing in the doorway.

Venn.

But as quick as he was there, he vanished, and Dravot could not find him after the service ended. Venn certainly seemed to be getting around these days.

Then things got worse. Much worse.

Thorkeld sent a message to Dravot: Brindinford is gone.

At first I cautioned against charging out there – it was clearly too late to do anything, whatever had happened. But Dravot was intent on going, and I realized how I would feel if it were my home, and quickly stopped arguing. We teleported to Brindinford without any further delays.

It was gone. The entire down was simply gone. There was no rubble, no broken buildings, no fires. It was like someone had scraped the foam from the top of a mug of ale. Every building was just gone, their basements still sitting in the ground. The removal seemed confined to the city proper – the pumphouse on the far side of the river was still there, as was the Temple of Wee Jas just outside of town. And there was one more curious thing – Aethramyr noticed that whatever force did this took care to leave all tombs and gravesites intact. Scorch detected a residual trace of dampened magic – more of an absence than a presence – but nothing else. It seemed as though someone had taken great effort to clean up all traces that would have been left behind by something so powerful.

Dravot was feeling very angry and very confused. The only ones around to ask were those inside the Temple of Wee Jas, and it was they who would receive his ire. He stormed into the temple and found it empty. He shouted loudly, demanding to see someone, and eventually a long set of footsteps could be heard drawing closer and closer to the courtyard. Eventually a door opened, and The Tatterdamelioncame into the courtyard.

He looked… tired. Even for the undead.

“It happened sometime yesterday, we think. I am the only one left, set to guard this place for whatever reason. There was an intense light that descended on the town, and then it was gone. There were being in the light – I could not see them as anything other than intense points of light. It all happened in only a minute.”

“And where are the rest of your Order?” Dravot demanded.

“Fled. They all ran. The undead who were here are all destroyed, washed away in a cleansing wind, save for me. I remain… to protect.”

Then he added “I believe the storm is about to break.”

Dravot was stunned, now denied even anyone to vent his rage on. “What about the primal?”

“The powerful creature imprisoned below the town? I can still feel it, but it is no closer to escape than it was before. There is something else however. After the… after it happened, someone came. He appeared in the town and seemed to be inspecting the remains.”

Dravot quickly described Venn on a hunch and it paid off. “Aye that was him. He frightened some of the order. He seemed neither surprised nor expectant at what he saw. I confess I could not tell if he was the cause or just a casual observer.”

Dravot asked some questions about exactly when this had all happened. Near as we could put together, the town disappeared some hours before the temple in Hexpools was attacked.

Aethramyr set out to try his own means of investigation and entered the Dreaming again. There was a dead zone over the entire town (or what used to be a town). Nothing dreamt there any more. While he was in the Dreaming he tried to go to the sacred place of his Goddess but as he got closer he found himself held at bay, unable to approach. An avatar appeared before him and told him he may not pass, but refused to explain.

Aethramyr asked him what had happened to the Silverring and why he did not dream. The being replied “When doors that should nto be opened are opened, sometimes things fall through. Like an ocean with the ebb and flow of the tides, the smallest and the largest are affected.”

I’m not sure if Aethramyr was becoming frustrated as well or just seeking advice. He asked “Is there anything you can tell me?”

The creature thought a moment and then said “If I were being hunted, I would chose my battleground. I have said more than I should. You must go now.”

First Pelor, now Sehanine. This was very bad. Lacking any other immediate idea, I decided it might be wise to contact Lord Gelban and inform him of the destruction of Brindinford.

“Kayleigh! I’m glad you contacted me. The scales have been unreliable of late and I was unable to contact you. I suspect they may stop functioning altogether soon. You know I have other adventurers in my employ. They are not as powerful as you but still notable. Someone has slain them all. We have spoken with one of the corpses – it told us little but it did reveal they were ambushed by powerful demonic forces. One wielded some kind of terrible morningstar with a human skull imbedded in it. They were murdered six hours ago. At least two of the attackers were fiends, and there were two or three abominations of some horrible order. One of the group had his spine damaged in an unusual manner.”

“And I take it that you think that we are likely to be the next target?” I asked.

“I fear you are in grave danger,” he answered.

Suddenly the “If I were being hunted…” comment made sense. Sehanine’s own champion was being hunted and she barely told him.

Dravot attempted a Sending to the solar he knew in Pelor’s host. I didn’t catch the entire message but I noted part of the reply:

You have contacted me at the worst possible moment…

I swallowed a scream. Of course it’s a bad moment – why else would we be trying to contact him? The gods have truly gone mad or maybe just stopped caring. While I was ranting inside my mind, Dravot added something else.

“He’s here. He’s on the Prime. I can sense it.” But Dravot wasn't content to stop there. He attempted to scry Aylwyn and was prepared to transport himself to the solar directly. But instead he got a rude surprise: Venn.

The wizard's face appeared in the crystal ball and he said "No. We won't be having any of that either." And then the crystal ball went blank.

Valanthe was now starting to show signs of concern. She wanted to go to Dyvers immediately to check on Ardestor, her former mentor. We all tried to tell her that it would be foolish of us to split up, knowing there were assassins coming for us.

She responded “I’ll be ok.”

I stared back at her in disbelief. She might be ok, but what about the rest of us? I couldn’t believe she was ready to just abandon us. But eventually she relented and decided not to go. Instead she sent a Sending:

Pelor hid Brindinford. Has Tritherion said or done anything? Be prepared. Seems gods are on the edge of war. Orcus desecrated temple. What have you heard?

I wish I was as sure as she was that Pelor did something to Brindinford – we had no reason to believe that was the case, especially given the indifference of the gods lately. Ardestor’s reply came back concerned.

Can’t speak to Tritherion. Celestials on the Prime. Interdiction is increasing. Something big is about to happen. Be careful.

Nothing really new there. The overall conclusion was simple: The world seemed to be coming to an end, and if we weren’t careful, we’d meet our end first. We decided to work on the assumption we were being hunted and tried to think of a good spot for a fight. In the end we could only think of one. We had no allies who could do us any good it seemed, but at least we could chose a place where there were no innocents around. And the holy power of the place, if it was still there, might tip the balance in our favor. So we wasted no more time and teleported to the Pyre of Pelor.

We arrived and began casting long-lasting spells before proceeding down the tunnel to the Pyre. Bolo began summoning an elemental swarm but it would take some time to complete. It was time, it turned out, that we didn’t have.

The enemy appeared shortly after he started. I’m guessing they didn’t want him to finish the spell and rushed their attack. Deep rumbling indicated the presence of two large creatures underground. Floating in the air was a gaunt looking beholder with elongated eyestalks and a vortex of shadow where the central eye would have been. In the back stood a smallish figure in a cloak, no other features visible. And in the front stood a twisted creature. Though he had been tortured and twisted in hideous ways, there was no mistaking Seltan the Fellsoul. His skin looked as though it has been slashed and stitched together a dozen times and the Fellsoul no longer bore his original striking appearance. His red skin was covered in sores and scars, with occasional horns or spikes breaking through. In his claw was a horrible morningstar formed from the shards of his former Vitaesis blade, with Bellamy's skull at it's center. His shield bore a device of a decapitated head, and his entire body rippled with evil shadow energy. His heavy armor was adorned with sharp spikes, and engraved with red-glowing runes on black metal that looked as if it was still molten hot on the inside.

And then things got worse. Much worse.

 

[WizarDru]

I am obviously missing the subtext here. Can someone enlighten me the source of these "scratches" and this "other combatant"?

Still enjoying the story, and seeing how Epic D&D can be played.

Not to put to fine a point on it, but Softwind has the way of it. Aethramyr is a paladin, but he's an elven paladin of Sehanine Moonbow. He is a leader, warrior and inspiration to the People of the Testing...but chaste is not on that list. Suffice it to say that there are more than a couple of elven ladies in Highfolk, Celene and the Lendores who sigh wistfully at the mention of the Paragon.

The romantic endeavours of each character varies, in game, including the complicated political arrangements for Dravot, the cat and mouse relationship of Kayleigh, the sassy playful dalliances of Val and the Hammer, Bolo's freewheeling non-committance, and Aethramyr's mutual appreciations of the opposite sex. The difference between Bolo and Aethramyr's habits are predictable, Bolo's are wild and elemental engagements, while Aethramyr is much more practiced and concise.

Oh, what's that? What about Scorch? Let's just say that he considers relationships somewhat...inconvienent. He's not above physical gratification, but he's much more concerned with power and knowledge. A relationship, to Scorch, is just another interference in his continual ascension. He already constantly begrudges his actually having 'friends'. While he'd never admit to appreciating their company, he still lets them grudgingly drag him into doing 'the right thing'. Feh.

 

[WizarDru]

Can someone remind me who Seltan, Venn, and
Bellamy are?

Seltan the Fellsoul first appeared in Chapter 6 of A Family Affair. (Page 1)

"By the time he began reaching for a potion in his belt, it was too late, and the flurry of blows laid him low. As he bled, he croaked out a final request to Jozan – “Don’t let them raise me….”"

A blackguard working with Sebastian (dravot's bastard half-brother who was finally slain by Valanthe during the quest for the Evocation binder), Seltan and his panther companion suffered badly when the Meepites threw the whole of their striking power at them in the massive battle at the conclusion of that adventure. His dying request prompted Aethramyr (then known as Jozan in tribute of the famouse cleric of Pelor) to bury him and hallow the ground, to protect the blackguard from being reanimated.

The wizard Venn first made his appearance, of a sort, in Divine Wrath, Chapter 2. (Page 4).

"There was a small village up in this land, small but thriving. They discovered the vein of isometril and they began to study it, along with the town wizard Venn. Eventually, interested parties began to show up. The ore . . . changed her brother and Venn."

Originally a reclusive wizard of noble mind, Vehn was kidnapped by a then insane Egg of Coot. The Egg then apparently gave him over to the Shadow King's minions, who implanted the Theorpart of Chaotic Evil literally inside his body. Over time, the ensuing conflict nearly destroyed Vehn, and after the Egg's defeat, the Meepites kept him safe for a short time, until the turned him over to the Gold Dragons, who kept him in the Shining Isles, their demi-plane. Vehn escaped recently, and has been showing up all over, but who's intent remains a mystery.

Bellamy is mentioned during The Forge of Fury, Chapter 7. He appears in Flashback in A Family Affair, Chapter 1, and then in person in Chapter 2.

Bellamy was Dravot's mentor at the chapterhouse in Hexpools, and his family's trusted spiritual advisor. Never a young man, we discovered in The Green and the Black, Chapter 1 that Bellamy had died during the siege and escape from Hexpools, protecting others. He had been brought back as a ghost, working to protect the refugees. He is presumably still doing so, although his bones were recently recovered.