Stone Angel
First Post
I just started reading this thread and I am smitten. *Can't stop, don't wanna* This is great, keep it up
Wraith's Whispers - CoSQ (Update: 4/5/04)
- Thread starter Wraithdrit
- Start date
Wraithdrit
First Post
Stone Angel,
Thanks for the praise. We just finished playing this evening. It was entirely a build up/gather info/recuit/buy and sell loot, but was great RP and revealed a few new interesting twists. Look for updates within the next couple of days. Also character sheets were added to my web page, so you can see the stats of the heroes by going there. The link is in my sig.
- Wraith
Thanks for the praise. We just finished playing this evening. It was entirely a build up/gather info/recuit/buy and sell loot, but was great RP and revealed a few new interesting twists. Look for updates within the next couple of days. Also character sheets were added to my web page, so you can see the stats of the heroes by going there. The link is in my sig.
- Wraith
Wraithdrit
First Post
To all readers of Wraith's Whispers:
The above update takes us to the end of 'Act I'. 'Act II' started during tonight's session and introduced a new player and a new character.
I would encourage feedback on what has happened so far, on the characters, on the plot twists or anything else. I welcome discussion about anything except for spoilers for the module (obviously this is an ongoing campaign and the logs are completed before the next session, so the players are only slightly ahead of what you are reading).
So, coming soon, Act II of Wraith's Whispers. Hope you have enjoyed everything so far, and stay along for the rough ride into the Underdark as the heroes try to stop the Great Revenance.
- Wraith
The above update takes us to the end of 'Act I'. 'Act II' started during tonight's session and introduced a new player and a new character.
I would encourage feedback on what has happened so far, on the characters, on the plot twists or anything else. I welcome discussion about anything except for spoilers for the module (obviously this is an ongoing campaign and the logs are completed before the next session, so the players are only slightly ahead of what you are reading).
So, coming soon, Act II of Wraith's Whispers. Hope you have enjoyed everything so far, and stay along for the rough ride into the Underdark as the heroes try to stop the Great Revenance.
- Wraith
Wraithdrit
First Post
Act II
Into the Darkness
Chapter 1
Wooded Path
Just Outside of Dagger Falls
Marpenoth 7th, 1372, Early Morning
Marcus jogged up to beside Plickit. He had been following behind him since they left Dagger Falls, but the time had come to find out where they were going. The other two remaining members of the group had stayed behind. Will was busy with working on his spell books, and Delorian had been pointedly not invited to come along.
Not that Marcus really thought his invitation to accompany Plickit had been all that charismatic. Plickit had given him the Thri-kreen version of a point and grunt. It was more of a point and click. The insectoid ranger had just clacked his mandibles together a few times to get Marcus’ attention, then had turned and walked off. When Marcus started to leave his things in his room, Plickit had turned back just long enough to say, “Bring things-tck. Going-tck away for few days.”
Marcus glanced over at the strange ranger walking beside and finally tried to break the ice. “So.” He paused to give Plickit the opportunity to stop, or to look over, or even to acknowledge that he had spoken. He did none of the three, so Marcus just continued, “Where are we going?”
Without missing a step or pausing, or really showing any emotion whatsoever Plickit just answered, “Shadowdale.”
“Oh-kay.” Marcus drew out the first syllable, trying to sound as confused as he was, then maybe Plickit would tell him why. When no explanation came, Marcus added, “Mind telling me why?”
“Meet-tck someone.”
“Who?”
No answer. Marcus stopped and crossed his arms, “Look, I’m not marching two days to go to Shadowdale when I could be staying warm and comfortable in the inn back in Dagger Falls. Not without a bit more explanation. Who are we going to meet and why?”
Plickit did not stop, but his head did rotate around to look back as he continued walking forward, “You want-tck to stay in room for eleven days, go ahead. I prefer to stretch-tck my legs. Shadowdale good place to-tck go. You’ll see.”
Marcus thought of staying in his room for the eleven days Will had said he would need, and decided that perhaps Plickit was right. Besides, in Shadowdale he was not a wanted man. He ran to catch up.
The following afternoon they strode the outskirts of Shadowdale to a small hut. Plants grew in rows all around the hut, and large drying racks held tanning hides, and drying herbs. Plickit ignored the clutter all about and went straight to the door. Marcus could hear someone was singing inside the small home. Whoever it was had a beautiful voice. Plickit didn’t seem to notice. He banged on the door with one of his four arms, loudly and quickly, obviously interrupting the song.
After a few moments a beautiful golden haired woman answered the door. She was dressed simply enough, but held herself with quite obvious strength. She swung the door wide quickly, looking a bit angry at the interruption. “This better be good.” When she saw Plickit her anger faded. “Plickit Ka. I never expected to see you here so soon.”
Plickit nodded just once, “Can we come-tck in?”
The woman slipped out of the way and nodded, “Of course. Who is your friend?” She looked over at Marcus, obviously studying him a little.
Plickit just pivoted his head towards Marcus. His mandibles closed with a snap and his antennae pivoted as if to regard Marcus as well. Marcus imagined that Plickit was a bit surprised at him being referred to as his friend. Plickit did not really seem to have friends, just those that he talked to and didn’t want to eat.
Since an introduction by Plickit was seemingly out of the question Marcus cleared his throat a bit and held out his hand, “Marcus Farseeker.”
She took his hand and shook it. The grip was firm, but not overly so. It seemed natural. She smiled at the introduction, “I’m called Storm. A pleasure to meet you.”
Marcus blinked a couple times and glanced at Plickit. “The pleasure is mine, m’lady.” Everyone in the dales knew Storm, but few knew her personally. Apparently that smaller number included Plickit. At least enough so that the Thri-kreen felt fine to march two days to come find her for some reason.
“Please. Just Storm.” She turned to look at Plickit. “So what news.”
Plickit settled into a chair without asking and began to tell the entire story of the last few days, leaving nothing out. Finally he turned to Marcus and said, “He make good addition-tck.”
Storm looked to Marcus and regarded him earnestly. “Oh really? Think you have what it takes?”
Marcus frowned, “I’m not really sure what you are talking about.”
Storm chuckled, “I’m sure you know of whom we speak. Plickit is a member of group of friends of mine, and he thinks you would make a good addition.”
Marcus knew who she was referring to, the Harpers. “I would be honored, but I’m not sure what I can do to help.”
Storm nodded, “We all play our parts in our own ways, and you would find your way, much as Plickit has. But your incarceration makes things a bit more difficult. How do we know that given the resources of our group, you would not turn them to your own devices, gathering information for your next big haul.”
Marcus looked down and sighed, then looked back to her, “That life is gone. I served my time, and am now serving to save Dagger Falls, that should count for something. Use magic, read my thoughts, you will see I mean what I say.”
Storm nodded again, “It does. But for how much remains to be seen. Continue with Plickit and your other companions. We will watch to see where your heart is. We prefer to let your actions speak for your heart, and leave magic out of daily lives. We use it only when needed, you will have plenty of time ahead of yourself to prove your worth to us. In the meantime, you two must be starving. I have some stew on, would you like some?”
Plickit declined, holding up a small pouch, “I have food-tck.”
Marcus grimaced at the thought of sharing a meal while Plickit was around, but the thought and smell of the stew overrode the aversion quickly, “I’d love some. Thank you.”
Common Room, Inn of the Swinging Sword
Dagger Falls
Marpenoth 13th, 1372, Dinner Time
Will paused and frowned, his look becoming fairly glassed over. His spoon slackened in his grasp, its soup spilling back into the bowl beneath it.
Frowning, Serin put a hand on Will’s arm and was about to speak when Will blinked and looked at the others around the table. “That was… interesting.” He glanced over at Serin and patted her hand, reassuring her that he was all right.
Will regarded the rest of his dinner companions. “Seems I have just been contacted by the ‘Mother’ from the letter. She is not very pleased about what we did with her daughter. She warned us to stay out of the Underdark.”
Delorian frowned, “What did you tell her.”
The monk seemed to know that with such a sending one could usually reply. Interesting, thought Will. “I told her the truth.”
Plickit cocked his head to one side, obviously confused. “The truth-tck?”
Will nodded, “Yes. I told her I was very impressed with her threat, and thus we will be becoming potato farmers, rather than return to the Underdark. You know. The truth.” Will grinned darkly and stabbed the hunk of meat left on his plate and placed it in his mouth.
The others chuckled. Plickit made hoeing motions, then shook his head, the soft click-clicks coming from his mandibles probably the best equation he had to laughter.
Will wiped his lips with his napkin then tossed it on top of his plate. “Well, tomorrow will be another long day of learning spells, so if you will excuse us.” He and Serin stood up.
Marcus grinned, “So what spells help you farm potatoes?”
Will grinned, “I was thinking chain lightning.”
Courtyard, Inn of the Blue Drake
Saerloon, Sembia
Marpenoth 17th, 1372, Late Evening
The glow faded before the young stable boy’s eyes. Standing in the middle of the courtyard were several awe-inspiring figures. In the middle was a dark skinned man in a huge deep cloak like coat. Beside him stood a pair of human men, one dressed in traveller’s clothers, the other swathed in a dark cloak. On the other side of them stood a large insect-man the likes the young stable boy had never seen. Each of them had huge bags thrown over their shoulders. The dark skinned man was carrying a bundle of huge long polearms, like the ones the gate guards used, only much more finely wrought.
They paused to take in their surroundings, and the stable boy started to slink back through the door of the stable. One of them snapped his gaze to him. It was one of the humans. Or at least he looked human at first. Then the stable boy saw the fire burning behind his eyes. In a near unearthly voice the man spoke. “No need to repeat what you just saw here, boy.”
Before he could respond to the affirmative the burning eyed man flipped a coin through the air at him. He caught the coin and looked at it. It was a gold piece! An entire gold piece! He could give it to his mother and feed the two of them for a week with this. Maybe more! He rushed quickly to the stranger’s sides, ignoring the danger that might provoke. “Carry your bags for you sirs? Need a stable horsed?”
The dark skin one turned on him and growled, “We’ve got it. Run along.”
Gripping his gold piece, the boy turned and ran back into the stable.
Streets near the Temple of Mystra
Saerloon, Sembia
Marpenoth 18th, 1372, Mid-morning
Marcus chuckled as he turned the corner and saw the temple in the distance. “Wow. They know how to proclaim themselves, don’t they?”
Delorian half snorted his agreement. The Temple of Mystra was everything Delorian thought a temple should not be. They were places of worship, not gaudy displays.
The temple was built as a massive central tower, and loomed over this area of the city, easily ten stories higher than everything around it. Huge glowing stars spun slowly around the tower’s tip. From the roof of the tower, crimson colored mist poured forth and flowed into channels along the edge of the tower to the massive garden like courtyard around the tower.
Will shrugged, “At least its not hard to find.”
Marcus nodded, “That’s for sure. So, you think the Iron Throne will honor our bargain?”
“I would think so. They have no reason to cross us here. Now if we were outside the city, I wouldn’t trust them any farther than I can throw them. Here though, there is at least a modicum of accountability. Besides, they know we are going to turn and spend a chunk of what we make with that sale on them, so I see no reason to have to many worries. Besides, Plickit is guarding the rest of the goods.” Will paused and looked back. Delorian had stopped at the edge of the courtyard.
When he saw Will looking back at him, Delorian quickly caught up and muttered, “I still don’t see why we need come here.”
Will answered, “It just would not look good for us to go straight from the Iron Throne to their competitors, the Thayan Enclave. Besides, I can not sell off some these spellbooks to the Thayans.”
Delorian looked puzzled, “Why?”
Will grinned, “Their Thayan.”
Marcus chuckled and leaned in to whisper to Delorian, “They wouldn’t understand the circumstances upon which they were obtained.”
Delorian nodded his understanding, and then shook his head at the whole thing. Still he was getting to see the city, so he was pleased. After all, information gathering about the world outside of the City of Shade was his secondary mission. He looked up the tower as they approached the main doors.
As the trio approached the doors, the pair of guards on either side stood still until they had nearly crossed the threshold. Suddenly both halberds dropped down, crossing before Will. The mage stepped back and frowned.
One of the guards explained, his features beneath the helmet obviously snarled in contempt or anger. “Followers of Shar are not allowed within the Sanctum of Mystra.”
Will and Marcus turned and looked at Delorian. The monk quickly responded. “I have no ill will toward your order. We merely wish to trade and…”
The guard raised his voice, angrily growling, “Followers of Shar are NOT allowed within the Sanctum.”
Delorian sighed and threw up his hands. “Fine.” He looked to his companions. “I’ll be out here.” He glanced up, and frowned, pulling the huge hood his massive cloak had further over his head. “Trying to find some shade.” He stalked off toward a large tree as the other two turned and looked at the guards.
The halberds slowly lifted out of the way and Will and Marcus walked inside. A young acolyte soon approached them. When they explained the reasons for their visit, the acolyte quickly deferred to a middle-aged priest sitting in the back pew of the main temple area. The priest stood up and turned to look at them.
He was a little overweight, but not overly so. Even here in the temple he wore armor and weapons. On his tabard was not only the symbol of Mystra, but an order symbol that Will recognized as being the Order of the Shooting Stars, Mystra’s troubleshooters and investigators.
The man held a stocky hand out to Will then Marcus, “I’m Varick… I could not overhear a bit of your conversation. Tell me more of what is going on…”
Streets near the Inn of the Blue Drake
Saerloon, Sembia
Marpenoth 18th, 1372, Mid-afternoon
The companions made their way back toward the inn. They were discussing what they had accomplished so far in the day, when a beggar stepped in front of Delorian.
“Alms for the poor, sir!” The begger rattled a cup and put a hand on Delorian. The monk looked like he was about to break the man’s hand for having touched him, when the man pulled the hand back and pulled his dirty tunic aside to reveal to Delorian that he had a Chakram tucked into his belt. It was the weapon of Shar. Quietly the man muttered to the monk, “We should speak brother.”
Delorian nearly stumbled back as he started. He would have never thought that the dark mistress would have followers here of all places! He had much to learn in Faerunian politics. Quickly he turned to Will and Marcus, “Give me some money.”
Will looked shocked, “What? Leave the beggar be.”
Marcus on the other hand was watching a little closer.
Delorian insisted, and Will sighed, pulled out a coin and hand it over. Delorian turned back to the beggar, who had started to move down the street, blindly panhandling his way along the road. The man was obviously blind. Delorian clunked the coin into the cup.
The beggar nodded, “Thank you kind sir.” He leaned in again. To anyone else it was seem he was just bobbing about, but to Delorian he whispered, “The alley behind your inn at midnight.”
Marcus turned away as Delorian turned and jogged toward him. He had watched the beggar whisper, and easily read his lips. So, someone wanted to talk to Delorian alone. Marcus doubted that would turn into anything good, so he decided that when the time came, he too would be there.
Inn of the Blue Drake
Saerloon, Sembia
Marpenoth 18th, 1372, Mid-afternoon
Will opened the door to his room, his crossbow in his hand, his sheets gathered in his fist at his waist. Instead of the intruder that his alarm spell had warned him against, Will found Marcus sneaking toward the door. Marcus looked back when he heard the door. Will frowned, “Marcus? Everything all right?”
Marcus nodded and smiled, “Yeah. Go back to bed Will.” He slipped quietly out of the hall, down the stairs, across the common room and out into the night.
Delorian slipped through the Plane of Shadow, and saw from where he was hidden that several men were hiding through the alley. He stepped up behind the furthest one out that he saw and reached out of the Plane of Shadow to grab the man by the head. He growled, “Move and I will snap your neck.”
The man moved quickly, shoving one hand up and beneath Delorian’s arm. But the monk’s hold was too good for the young novice human, and the shade easily maintained it. He twisted a little, to emphasize the point then called to the ringleader.
“Why do you wait to ambush me?”
The former beggar stepped from the wall, walking upright this time. Still his eyes looked as if he was blind, but he turned to ‘look’ straight at Delorian. “We travel in numbers for protection in the night, brother.”
Delorian opened his mouth to talk when he heard the slight swish of cloth behind him. He vaulted up, his strong legs carrying in a graceful arc up over the monk that snuck up behind him. Landing behind the man he kicked off his back and rolled back several more feet. “Give me one good reason I don’t leave now.” He backed out of the alley, still facing it.
To one side, Marcus spun around the corner, and listened to the conversation going on. Delorian never had the chance to even see him.
The leader held up his hands, “We are only protecting our own, brother. Just as you would.”
“Why did you want to see me?”
“It is not often one of your kind is seen here, much less walking around in the open. We had to approach you. Tell me, why are you here?”
Delorian shook his head. “My affairs are my own.”
The leader strode forward, hands still spread wide. “The Brothers of the Dark Moon wish to aid their own, brother. Just tell us who and where to strike.” His voice was smooth as silk. Marcus thought that if he didn’t know better this Dark Moon monk could be a bard if he wanted to. He was a natural leader, that much was sure. He could easily see men willing to die for one with such conviction and ease in his voice.
Delorian shook his head again, “My affairs are in order. We are only passing through Saerloon. Your assistance is not required.”
The Dark Moon leader nodded, “Of course, brother. Should you need us, just contact us.”
“How?”
“The lighthouse in the harbor. Shar holds sway there. Ironic, no?”
Marcus had heard enough. He slipped away and back into the inn. Will had to know what was going on, but not now. Delorian would probably beat him back to the rooms, and if he tried to warn Will now, the consequences might be disastrous.
Upstairs Suites at the Inn of the Blue Drake
Saerloon, Sembia
Marpenoth 19th, 1372, Predawn
The group gathered in the central entrance to suite of rooms upstairs in the Inn. The guard was pounding on the door. It was not urgent, but it was enough to get all of their attentions. “M’lords. You have a visitor.”
Will frowned, “Its early. Tell them to come back later.”
“He insists he must see you now, m’lord.”
“Tell him to come back after breakfast.” While Will was stalling the others readied themselves, in case someone had come to take their share of the Underdark loot that had been selling off. To take it without paying that is.
“M’lord, he says he can not come back later, it has to be now.”
“Who is? Get their name.”
From the other side of the door, the guards could be heard muttering in surprise. “Where’d he go?”
From the shadows beside the door strode Clariburnus. “I will only wait for so long.”
Delorian quickly dropped to one knee, “M’lord.” Clariburnus motioned for the monk to stand, then turned to regard the others. “I hope your selling is going quickly and profitably.”
Will just frowned. He did not trust the shade lord or his monk lackey any further than he could throw either of them. He looked at Delorian then finally responded. “It goes well enough. To what do we owe the pleasure?”
Clariburnus sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He actually looked tired, and even ashier around the edge of his jaw line than usual. “Things are getting worse back in the City. Hadrhune has about convinced the High Prince that it would be best if your group just went away.”
Marcus sighed, “Why do you people care if we stop these drow or not? I don’t get it. What’s your angle?”
Clariburnus studied Marcus a moment or two then replied. “You know now of the drow Great Revenance. If this Revenance succeeds there will be war here on the surface. The swathe of death that the drow push across the countryside will do nothing for my people, and eventually the drow will turn their sights on us. I want to stop that before it starts. Hadrhune on the other hand feels that an alliance with the drow can be worked out. He thinks if that happens when the Great Revenance comes to pass the drow can be aided and manipulated into taking out our own rivals and convinced to let those we call allies to live. I think he’s a fool. Meglomaniacal clerics are not the best place to look for a rational political ally. I’ve seen the effects of war on my people. I do not wish to see it again soon. Not for such a frivolous cost.
“Its to that end though that Hadrhune has convinced my father that aiding you any further is paramount to treason. Thus I must pull my support for Delorian and your group for now. Hopefully I can turn this to our advantage in the end, but right now we need to lay low our connection. Thus, I won’t be able to bring you anything further to aid you.” He turned to regard Delorian only. “You will have to get further supplies here in the worlds of light. I can not provide for you anything further. I will still be in contact, but other than with information, I will not be able to help for now. I’m hoping this will be a temporary problem.”
Delorian looked to the others and then nodded to his lord. “Of course, m’lord.”
Clariburnus looked at the rest of the group and asked, “Is there anything I can do for the rest of you in the meantime?”
The group was silent. Marcus, Will and Plickit just watched Clariburnus. Marcus thought that dealing had to feel similar to dealing with a devil. He didn’t want anything to do with either.
Clariburnus looked at them all, and repeated, “Anything at all?”
When no one answered the prince turned and looked directly at Plickit. “Twice now I have asked if there was anything I could do for you, and both times you remain silent. Yet your enmity towards me is evident. Obviously you want something, speak up and I will do what I can.”
Plickit narrowed his massive eyes and his antennae laid back along his head, “Free my people-tck!” The thri-kreen were a desert dwelling race of tribes when the City of Shade returned. Many of their people, including most of Plickit’s tribe were slaves within the city now. It explained a lot of the comments Plickit made towards Delorian.
“Unfortunately that is a bit beyond my capability. But I will free any of your people that I personally own. Is that good enough?” Clariburnus held his hands out, palms up, an expression of pleading.
Plickit nearly growled. “It is a start-tck.”
The shade prince nodded, “Is there anywhere particular you wish to have them taken to for release?”
Plickit cocked his head to one side. Did he look stupid? “The desert-tck.”
“No where in particular?”
“Just-tck the desert-tck.” Like he would tell Clariburnus where his people were now. He would never reveal such a thing.
Clariburnus nodded. “It shall be done.” He looked to others. “If there is nothing else, I have much to do. Oh, one last thing. The dark elf city, Maerimydra, is the home of a shade ambassador, one of Hadrhune’s right hand men. Be careful around him. His name is Wyrruth.” With that prince turned away. The others all just watched him, Delorian bowed. The prince pulled the shadows from the wall and stepped through, disappearing.
Will looked at Delorian and started to open his mouth. Marcus put a hand on his arm first. “Cousin, I need to talk to you a minute.” Will snapped his mouth shut and turned to walk in to his room. The door slammed behind Marcus. Delorian looked at the closed door and shook his head gently. How he missed his simple room back in the City of Shade.
Temple of Mystra
Saerloon, Sembia
Marpenoth 19th, 1372, Mid-morning
Will and Marcus strode through the entrance without incident this time, Delorian had decided to go ahead to the Thayan enclave rather than wait outside the temple. Plickit had said something about meeting some druids outside of town. He was looking to acquire something that only they could produce.
Just when getting into the temple seemed too easy, a woman with a powerful presence stepped in their way. She looked the two up and down and frowned. “Gentleman. I am Lady Firehands, please follow me.”
From their conversation the previous day, the two knew that Lady Firehands was in charge of the temple. Marcus wondered what she wanted with them.
She took them to a room and closed the door behind her. She turned, looking at them angrily. “You bring Shar into the house of Mystra with you.” The two blinked and looked at each other. “You carry magic powered by the Shadow Weave. Its nature is hard to detect for those that do not know what to look for gentleman, but I have been fighting Shar’s followers for many years.”
Both Farseekers looked at her in confusion then looked to each other and said at the same time. “The rings.”
Lady Firehands thrust out her hand palm up. “Give them to me.”
Will started to fish his ring that Clariburnus had given him out. Marcus shoved his hands beneath his cloak and pulled it tighter around himself. “The ring does no harm.”
Lady Firehands did not seem to like his answer, “Give it to me, now!”
Marcus backed up, “No… it does no harm, if it bothers you so, I will leave.”
She sighed and pulled her hand back. “Do you know that?”
Marcus nodded, “Yes, I wear it even now. It lets me see in the dark.”
“And?”
“And nothing. That’s it.”
“Have you had it identified?”
Marcus turned to look at Will, who shrugged and admitted, “We did not.”
Lady Firehands pulled a chair from the table and sat down. “I’ll wait.”
Will shrugged and sat down. His owl, perched on his shoulder squawked loudly when Will reached up and plucked a feather. When he saw the look Marcus was giving him he shrugged, “It’s a component of the spell. He has plenty.” The owl ruffled its feathers then settled back down to go back to sleep.
An hour later, Will cussed out loud and dropped his version of the darkvision ring onto the tabletop. “It allows you to see in the dark all right. It also makes you highly susceptible to shadow weave enchanters.”
Marcus ripped the ring of his finger and slid it across the table to Lady Firehands. “I don’t really need it anyways,” he muttered.
Lady Firehands stood after gathering both rings. She dropped it into a pouch at her side. “Good. Now, Brother Varick wishes to see you, and I believe the head librarian has all of the scrolls you had requested ready.”
The friendly Brother Varick soon replaced her. The priest stepped into the room carry his weapon and had a pack slung over one shoulder. “Good news, I’ve decided to go with you.”
Will arced an eyebrow then shrugged. “We could use the assistance. Our last healer left for Evermeet.”
Varick frowned, “Evermeet? You must have really upset him.”
Marcus started to correct him, then he noticed Varick was grinning. They chuckled together as they all strode out of the temple. At Will’s side was a scroll tube tightly packed with the high level spells for which he had traded the enemy spellbooks. They were off to meet Delorian outside the Thayan enclave.
After taking care of business in the Thayan enclave the four headed to Inn of the Blue Drake. Marcus had an enchanted pair of gloves and magic bag. Delorian had an set of enchanted bracers. Will had bought a gem that held a powerful fire elemental. These objects, and the things they had bought Plickit would serve them well in the Underdark.
As they approached the inn, Plickit caught up to them. He told them he had been successful. The wand the druids were creating for him would be ready in a couple of days. They strode into the inn’s courtyard. Will stopped a moment and stood looking off into space.
In his head the woman’s voice was back. “Having fun shopping, human? It will not help you. You should have headed my warning, insolent fool. Here is something for you to play with.”
Will blinked and grabbed by the arm. He called to the others, “Be on guard!” His other hand was already reaching for his spell component pouch.
A disgusting smell accompanied a sickening green light that flashed in front of them. Marcus growled, “Too late.” A massive froglike demon stood before them. Huge rows of sharp teeth were revealed, sickening putrid drool rolling from the thick lips as it opened its mouth to roar defiance at the heroes.
Varick growled, “A hezrou demon.” His mace slipped easily into his grasp as he stepped forward. Holy light bathed off the mace’s head, dripping like glowing white water, only to disappear before it hit the ground.
Plickit dropped into a roll, slipping to one side of the demon. His many hands came up with weapons in them.
Delorian shifted to one side and glanced up at the glaring sun above him. He cursed softly, and then was startled as something partially blocked the sun’s rays. Atop the large five-story inn, three more demons stood leering down at them. He pointed up at them, “More on the roof!”
Into the Darkness
Chapter 1
Wooded Path
Just Outside of Dagger Falls
Marpenoth 7th, 1372, Early Morning
Marcus jogged up to beside Plickit. He had been following behind him since they left Dagger Falls, but the time had come to find out where they were going. The other two remaining members of the group had stayed behind. Will was busy with working on his spell books, and Delorian had been pointedly not invited to come along.
Not that Marcus really thought his invitation to accompany Plickit had been all that charismatic. Plickit had given him the Thri-kreen version of a point and grunt. It was more of a point and click. The insectoid ranger had just clacked his mandibles together a few times to get Marcus’ attention, then had turned and walked off. When Marcus started to leave his things in his room, Plickit had turned back just long enough to say, “Bring things-tck. Going-tck away for few days.”
Marcus glanced over at the strange ranger walking beside and finally tried to break the ice. “So.” He paused to give Plickit the opportunity to stop, or to look over, or even to acknowledge that he had spoken. He did none of the three, so Marcus just continued, “Where are we going?”
Without missing a step or pausing, or really showing any emotion whatsoever Plickit just answered, “Shadowdale.”
“Oh-kay.” Marcus drew out the first syllable, trying to sound as confused as he was, then maybe Plickit would tell him why. When no explanation came, Marcus added, “Mind telling me why?”
“Meet-tck someone.”
“Who?”
No answer. Marcus stopped and crossed his arms, “Look, I’m not marching two days to go to Shadowdale when I could be staying warm and comfortable in the inn back in Dagger Falls. Not without a bit more explanation. Who are we going to meet and why?”
Plickit did not stop, but his head did rotate around to look back as he continued walking forward, “You want-tck to stay in room for eleven days, go ahead. I prefer to stretch-tck my legs. Shadowdale good place to-tck go. You’ll see.”
Marcus thought of staying in his room for the eleven days Will had said he would need, and decided that perhaps Plickit was right. Besides, in Shadowdale he was not a wanted man. He ran to catch up.
The following afternoon they strode the outskirts of Shadowdale to a small hut. Plants grew in rows all around the hut, and large drying racks held tanning hides, and drying herbs. Plickit ignored the clutter all about and went straight to the door. Marcus could hear someone was singing inside the small home. Whoever it was had a beautiful voice. Plickit didn’t seem to notice. He banged on the door with one of his four arms, loudly and quickly, obviously interrupting the song.
After a few moments a beautiful golden haired woman answered the door. She was dressed simply enough, but held herself with quite obvious strength. She swung the door wide quickly, looking a bit angry at the interruption. “This better be good.” When she saw Plickit her anger faded. “Plickit Ka. I never expected to see you here so soon.”
Plickit nodded just once, “Can we come-tck in?”
The woman slipped out of the way and nodded, “Of course. Who is your friend?” She looked over at Marcus, obviously studying him a little.
Plickit just pivoted his head towards Marcus. His mandibles closed with a snap and his antennae pivoted as if to regard Marcus as well. Marcus imagined that Plickit was a bit surprised at him being referred to as his friend. Plickit did not really seem to have friends, just those that he talked to and didn’t want to eat.
Since an introduction by Plickit was seemingly out of the question Marcus cleared his throat a bit and held out his hand, “Marcus Farseeker.”
She took his hand and shook it. The grip was firm, but not overly so. It seemed natural. She smiled at the introduction, “I’m called Storm. A pleasure to meet you.”
Marcus blinked a couple times and glanced at Plickit. “The pleasure is mine, m’lady.” Everyone in the dales knew Storm, but few knew her personally. Apparently that smaller number included Plickit. At least enough so that the Thri-kreen felt fine to march two days to come find her for some reason.
“Please. Just Storm.” She turned to look at Plickit. “So what news.”
Plickit settled into a chair without asking and began to tell the entire story of the last few days, leaving nothing out. Finally he turned to Marcus and said, “He make good addition-tck.”
Storm looked to Marcus and regarded him earnestly. “Oh really? Think you have what it takes?”
Marcus frowned, “I’m not really sure what you are talking about.”
Storm chuckled, “I’m sure you know of whom we speak. Plickit is a member of group of friends of mine, and he thinks you would make a good addition.”
Marcus knew who she was referring to, the Harpers. “I would be honored, but I’m not sure what I can do to help.”
Storm nodded, “We all play our parts in our own ways, and you would find your way, much as Plickit has. But your incarceration makes things a bit more difficult. How do we know that given the resources of our group, you would not turn them to your own devices, gathering information for your next big haul.”
Marcus looked down and sighed, then looked back to her, “That life is gone. I served my time, and am now serving to save Dagger Falls, that should count for something. Use magic, read my thoughts, you will see I mean what I say.”
Storm nodded again, “It does. But for how much remains to be seen. Continue with Plickit and your other companions. We will watch to see where your heart is. We prefer to let your actions speak for your heart, and leave magic out of daily lives. We use it only when needed, you will have plenty of time ahead of yourself to prove your worth to us. In the meantime, you two must be starving. I have some stew on, would you like some?”
Plickit declined, holding up a small pouch, “I have food-tck.”
Marcus grimaced at the thought of sharing a meal while Plickit was around, but the thought and smell of the stew overrode the aversion quickly, “I’d love some. Thank you.”
Common Room, Inn of the Swinging Sword
Dagger Falls
Marpenoth 13th, 1372, Dinner Time
Will paused and frowned, his look becoming fairly glassed over. His spoon slackened in his grasp, its soup spilling back into the bowl beneath it.
Frowning, Serin put a hand on Will’s arm and was about to speak when Will blinked and looked at the others around the table. “That was… interesting.” He glanced over at Serin and patted her hand, reassuring her that he was all right.
Will regarded the rest of his dinner companions. “Seems I have just been contacted by the ‘Mother’ from the letter. She is not very pleased about what we did with her daughter. She warned us to stay out of the Underdark.”
Delorian frowned, “What did you tell her.”
The monk seemed to know that with such a sending one could usually reply. Interesting, thought Will. “I told her the truth.”
Plickit cocked his head to one side, obviously confused. “The truth-tck?”
Will nodded, “Yes. I told her I was very impressed with her threat, and thus we will be becoming potato farmers, rather than return to the Underdark. You know. The truth.” Will grinned darkly and stabbed the hunk of meat left on his plate and placed it in his mouth.
The others chuckled. Plickit made hoeing motions, then shook his head, the soft click-clicks coming from his mandibles probably the best equation he had to laughter.
Will wiped his lips with his napkin then tossed it on top of his plate. “Well, tomorrow will be another long day of learning spells, so if you will excuse us.” He and Serin stood up.
Marcus grinned, “So what spells help you farm potatoes?”
Will grinned, “I was thinking chain lightning.”
Courtyard, Inn of the Blue Drake
Saerloon, Sembia
Marpenoth 17th, 1372, Late Evening
The glow faded before the young stable boy’s eyes. Standing in the middle of the courtyard were several awe-inspiring figures. In the middle was a dark skinned man in a huge deep cloak like coat. Beside him stood a pair of human men, one dressed in traveller’s clothers, the other swathed in a dark cloak. On the other side of them stood a large insect-man the likes the young stable boy had never seen. Each of them had huge bags thrown over their shoulders. The dark skinned man was carrying a bundle of huge long polearms, like the ones the gate guards used, only much more finely wrought.
They paused to take in their surroundings, and the stable boy started to slink back through the door of the stable. One of them snapped his gaze to him. It was one of the humans. Or at least he looked human at first. Then the stable boy saw the fire burning behind his eyes. In a near unearthly voice the man spoke. “No need to repeat what you just saw here, boy.”
Before he could respond to the affirmative the burning eyed man flipped a coin through the air at him. He caught the coin and looked at it. It was a gold piece! An entire gold piece! He could give it to his mother and feed the two of them for a week with this. Maybe more! He rushed quickly to the stranger’s sides, ignoring the danger that might provoke. “Carry your bags for you sirs? Need a stable horsed?”
The dark skin one turned on him and growled, “We’ve got it. Run along.”
Gripping his gold piece, the boy turned and ran back into the stable.
Streets near the Temple of Mystra
Saerloon, Sembia
Marpenoth 18th, 1372, Mid-morning
Marcus chuckled as he turned the corner and saw the temple in the distance. “Wow. They know how to proclaim themselves, don’t they?”
Delorian half snorted his agreement. The Temple of Mystra was everything Delorian thought a temple should not be. They were places of worship, not gaudy displays.
The temple was built as a massive central tower, and loomed over this area of the city, easily ten stories higher than everything around it. Huge glowing stars spun slowly around the tower’s tip. From the roof of the tower, crimson colored mist poured forth and flowed into channels along the edge of the tower to the massive garden like courtyard around the tower.
Will shrugged, “At least its not hard to find.”
Marcus nodded, “That’s for sure. So, you think the Iron Throne will honor our bargain?”
“I would think so. They have no reason to cross us here. Now if we were outside the city, I wouldn’t trust them any farther than I can throw them. Here though, there is at least a modicum of accountability. Besides, they know we are going to turn and spend a chunk of what we make with that sale on them, so I see no reason to have to many worries. Besides, Plickit is guarding the rest of the goods.” Will paused and looked back. Delorian had stopped at the edge of the courtyard.
When he saw Will looking back at him, Delorian quickly caught up and muttered, “I still don’t see why we need come here.”
Will answered, “It just would not look good for us to go straight from the Iron Throne to their competitors, the Thayan Enclave. Besides, I can not sell off some these spellbooks to the Thayans.”
Delorian looked puzzled, “Why?”
Will grinned, “Their Thayan.”
Marcus chuckled and leaned in to whisper to Delorian, “They wouldn’t understand the circumstances upon which they were obtained.”
Delorian nodded his understanding, and then shook his head at the whole thing. Still he was getting to see the city, so he was pleased. After all, information gathering about the world outside of the City of Shade was his secondary mission. He looked up the tower as they approached the main doors.
As the trio approached the doors, the pair of guards on either side stood still until they had nearly crossed the threshold. Suddenly both halberds dropped down, crossing before Will. The mage stepped back and frowned.
One of the guards explained, his features beneath the helmet obviously snarled in contempt or anger. “Followers of Shar are not allowed within the Sanctum of Mystra.”
Will and Marcus turned and looked at Delorian. The monk quickly responded. “I have no ill will toward your order. We merely wish to trade and…”
The guard raised his voice, angrily growling, “Followers of Shar are NOT allowed within the Sanctum.”
Delorian sighed and threw up his hands. “Fine.” He looked to his companions. “I’ll be out here.” He glanced up, and frowned, pulling the huge hood his massive cloak had further over his head. “Trying to find some shade.” He stalked off toward a large tree as the other two turned and looked at the guards.
The halberds slowly lifted out of the way and Will and Marcus walked inside. A young acolyte soon approached them. When they explained the reasons for their visit, the acolyte quickly deferred to a middle-aged priest sitting in the back pew of the main temple area. The priest stood up and turned to look at them.
He was a little overweight, but not overly so. Even here in the temple he wore armor and weapons. On his tabard was not only the symbol of Mystra, but an order symbol that Will recognized as being the Order of the Shooting Stars, Mystra’s troubleshooters and investigators.
The man held a stocky hand out to Will then Marcus, “I’m Varick… I could not overhear a bit of your conversation. Tell me more of what is going on…”
Streets near the Inn of the Blue Drake
Saerloon, Sembia
Marpenoth 18th, 1372, Mid-afternoon
The companions made their way back toward the inn. They were discussing what they had accomplished so far in the day, when a beggar stepped in front of Delorian.
“Alms for the poor, sir!” The begger rattled a cup and put a hand on Delorian. The monk looked like he was about to break the man’s hand for having touched him, when the man pulled the hand back and pulled his dirty tunic aside to reveal to Delorian that he had a Chakram tucked into his belt. It was the weapon of Shar. Quietly the man muttered to the monk, “We should speak brother.”
Delorian nearly stumbled back as he started. He would have never thought that the dark mistress would have followers here of all places! He had much to learn in Faerunian politics. Quickly he turned to Will and Marcus, “Give me some money.”
Will looked shocked, “What? Leave the beggar be.”
Marcus on the other hand was watching a little closer.
Delorian insisted, and Will sighed, pulled out a coin and hand it over. Delorian turned back to the beggar, who had started to move down the street, blindly panhandling his way along the road. The man was obviously blind. Delorian clunked the coin into the cup.
The beggar nodded, “Thank you kind sir.” He leaned in again. To anyone else it was seem he was just bobbing about, but to Delorian he whispered, “The alley behind your inn at midnight.”
Marcus turned away as Delorian turned and jogged toward him. He had watched the beggar whisper, and easily read his lips. So, someone wanted to talk to Delorian alone. Marcus doubted that would turn into anything good, so he decided that when the time came, he too would be there.
Inn of the Blue Drake
Saerloon, Sembia
Marpenoth 18th, 1372, Mid-afternoon
Will opened the door to his room, his crossbow in his hand, his sheets gathered in his fist at his waist. Instead of the intruder that his alarm spell had warned him against, Will found Marcus sneaking toward the door. Marcus looked back when he heard the door. Will frowned, “Marcus? Everything all right?”
Marcus nodded and smiled, “Yeah. Go back to bed Will.” He slipped quietly out of the hall, down the stairs, across the common room and out into the night.
Delorian slipped through the Plane of Shadow, and saw from where he was hidden that several men were hiding through the alley. He stepped up behind the furthest one out that he saw and reached out of the Plane of Shadow to grab the man by the head. He growled, “Move and I will snap your neck.”
The man moved quickly, shoving one hand up and beneath Delorian’s arm. But the monk’s hold was too good for the young novice human, and the shade easily maintained it. He twisted a little, to emphasize the point then called to the ringleader.
“Why do you wait to ambush me?”
The former beggar stepped from the wall, walking upright this time. Still his eyes looked as if he was blind, but he turned to ‘look’ straight at Delorian. “We travel in numbers for protection in the night, brother.”
Delorian opened his mouth to talk when he heard the slight swish of cloth behind him. He vaulted up, his strong legs carrying in a graceful arc up over the monk that snuck up behind him. Landing behind the man he kicked off his back and rolled back several more feet. “Give me one good reason I don’t leave now.” He backed out of the alley, still facing it.
To one side, Marcus spun around the corner, and listened to the conversation going on. Delorian never had the chance to even see him.
The leader held up his hands, “We are only protecting our own, brother. Just as you would.”
“Why did you want to see me?”
“It is not often one of your kind is seen here, much less walking around in the open. We had to approach you. Tell me, why are you here?”
Delorian shook his head. “My affairs are my own.”
The leader strode forward, hands still spread wide. “The Brothers of the Dark Moon wish to aid their own, brother. Just tell us who and where to strike.” His voice was smooth as silk. Marcus thought that if he didn’t know better this Dark Moon monk could be a bard if he wanted to. He was a natural leader, that much was sure. He could easily see men willing to die for one with such conviction and ease in his voice.
Delorian shook his head again, “My affairs are in order. We are only passing through Saerloon. Your assistance is not required.”
The Dark Moon leader nodded, “Of course, brother. Should you need us, just contact us.”
“How?”
“The lighthouse in the harbor. Shar holds sway there. Ironic, no?”
Marcus had heard enough. He slipped away and back into the inn. Will had to know what was going on, but not now. Delorian would probably beat him back to the rooms, and if he tried to warn Will now, the consequences might be disastrous.
Upstairs Suites at the Inn of the Blue Drake
Saerloon, Sembia
Marpenoth 19th, 1372, Predawn
The group gathered in the central entrance to suite of rooms upstairs in the Inn. The guard was pounding on the door. It was not urgent, but it was enough to get all of their attentions. “M’lords. You have a visitor.”
Will frowned, “Its early. Tell them to come back later.”
“He insists he must see you now, m’lord.”
“Tell him to come back after breakfast.” While Will was stalling the others readied themselves, in case someone had come to take their share of the Underdark loot that had been selling off. To take it without paying that is.
“M’lord, he says he can not come back later, it has to be now.”
“Who is? Get their name.”
From the other side of the door, the guards could be heard muttering in surprise. “Where’d he go?”
From the shadows beside the door strode Clariburnus. “I will only wait for so long.”
Delorian quickly dropped to one knee, “M’lord.” Clariburnus motioned for the monk to stand, then turned to regard the others. “I hope your selling is going quickly and profitably.”
Will just frowned. He did not trust the shade lord or his monk lackey any further than he could throw either of them. He looked at Delorian then finally responded. “It goes well enough. To what do we owe the pleasure?”
Clariburnus sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He actually looked tired, and even ashier around the edge of his jaw line than usual. “Things are getting worse back in the City. Hadrhune has about convinced the High Prince that it would be best if your group just went away.”
Marcus sighed, “Why do you people care if we stop these drow or not? I don’t get it. What’s your angle?”
Clariburnus studied Marcus a moment or two then replied. “You know now of the drow Great Revenance. If this Revenance succeeds there will be war here on the surface. The swathe of death that the drow push across the countryside will do nothing for my people, and eventually the drow will turn their sights on us. I want to stop that before it starts. Hadrhune on the other hand feels that an alliance with the drow can be worked out. He thinks if that happens when the Great Revenance comes to pass the drow can be aided and manipulated into taking out our own rivals and convinced to let those we call allies to live. I think he’s a fool. Meglomaniacal clerics are not the best place to look for a rational political ally. I’ve seen the effects of war on my people. I do not wish to see it again soon. Not for such a frivolous cost.
“Its to that end though that Hadrhune has convinced my father that aiding you any further is paramount to treason. Thus I must pull my support for Delorian and your group for now. Hopefully I can turn this to our advantage in the end, but right now we need to lay low our connection. Thus, I won’t be able to bring you anything further to aid you.” He turned to regard Delorian only. “You will have to get further supplies here in the worlds of light. I can not provide for you anything further. I will still be in contact, but other than with information, I will not be able to help for now. I’m hoping this will be a temporary problem.”
Delorian looked to the others and then nodded to his lord. “Of course, m’lord.”
Clariburnus looked at the rest of the group and asked, “Is there anything I can do for the rest of you in the meantime?”
The group was silent. Marcus, Will and Plickit just watched Clariburnus. Marcus thought that dealing had to feel similar to dealing with a devil. He didn’t want anything to do with either.
Clariburnus looked at them all, and repeated, “Anything at all?”
When no one answered the prince turned and looked directly at Plickit. “Twice now I have asked if there was anything I could do for you, and both times you remain silent. Yet your enmity towards me is evident. Obviously you want something, speak up and I will do what I can.”
Plickit narrowed his massive eyes and his antennae laid back along his head, “Free my people-tck!” The thri-kreen were a desert dwelling race of tribes when the City of Shade returned. Many of their people, including most of Plickit’s tribe were slaves within the city now. It explained a lot of the comments Plickit made towards Delorian.
“Unfortunately that is a bit beyond my capability. But I will free any of your people that I personally own. Is that good enough?” Clariburnus held his hands out, palms up, an expression of pleading.
Plickit nearly growled. “It is a start-tck.”
The shade prince nodded, “Is there anywhere particular you wish to have them taken to for release?”
Plickit cocked his head to one side. Did he look stupid? “The desert-tck.”
“No where in particular?”
“Just-tck the desert-tck.” Like he would tell Clariburnus where his people were now. He would never reveal such a thing.
Clariburnus nodded. “It shall be done.” He looked to others. “If there is nothing else, I have much to do. Oh, one last thing. The dark elf city, Maerimydra, is the home of a shade ambassador, one of Hadrhune’s right hand men. Be careful around him. His name is Wyrruth.” With that prince turned away. The others all just watched him, Delorian bowed. The prince pulled the shadows from the wall and stepped through, disappearing.
Will looked at Delorian and started to open his mouth. Marcus put a hand on his arm first. “Cousin, I need to talk to you a minute.” Will snapped his mouth shut and turned to walk in to his room. The door slammed behind Marcus. Delorian looked at the closed door and shook his head gently. How he missed his simple room back in the City of Shade.
Temple of Mystra
Saerloon, Sembia
Marpenoth 19th, 1372, Mid-morning
Will and Marcus strode through the entrance without incident this time, Delorian had decided to go ahead to the Thayan enclave rather than wait outside the temple. Plickit had said something about meeting some druids outside of town. He was looking to acquire something that only they could produce.
Just when getting into the temple seemed too easy, a woman with a powerful presence stepped in their way. She looked the two up and down and frowned. “Gentleman. I am Lady Firehands, please follow me.”
From their conversation the previous day, the two knew that Lady Firehands was in charge of the temple. Marcus wondered what she wanted with them.
She took them to a room and closed the door behind her. She turned, looking at them angrily. “You bring Shar into the house of Mystra with you.” The two blinked and looked at each other. “You carry magic powered by the Shadow Weave. Its nature is hard to detect for those that do not know what to look for gentleman, but I have been fighting Shar’s followers for many years.”
Both Farseekers looked at her in confusion then looked to each other and said at the same time. “The rings.”
Lady Firehands thrust out her hand palm up. “Give them to me.”
Will started to fish his ring that Clariburnus had given him out. Marcus shoved his hands beneath his cloak and pulled it tighter around himself. “The ring does no harm.”
Lady Firehands did not seem to like his answer, “Give it to me, now!”
Marcus backed up, “No… it does no harm, if it bothers you so, I will leave.”
She sighed and pulled her hand back. “Do you know that?”
Marcus nodded, “Yes, I wear it even now. It lets me see in the dark.”
“And?”
“And nothing. That’s it.”
“Have you had it identified?”
Marcus turned to look at Will, who shrugged and admitted, “We did not.”
Lady Firehands pulled a chair from the table and sat down. “I’ll wait.”
Will shrugged and sat down. His owl, perched on his shoulder squawked loudly when Will reached up and plucked a feather. When he saw the look Marcus was giving him he shrugged, “It’s a component of the spell. He has plenty.” The owl ruffled its feathers then settled back down to go back to sleep.
An hour later, Will cussed out loud and dropped his version of the darkvision ring onto the tabletop. “It allows you to see in the dark all right. It also makes you highly susceptible to shadow weave enchanters.”
Marcus ripped the ring of his finger and slid it across the table to Lady Firehands. “I don’t really need it anyways,” he muttered.
Lady Firehands stood after gathering both rings. She dropped it into a pouch at her side. “Good. Now, Brother Varick wishes to see you, and I believe the head librarian has all of the scrolls you had requested ready.”
The friendly Brother Varick soon replaced her. The priest stepped into the room carry his weapon and had a pack slung over one shoulder. “Good news, I’ve decided to go with you.”
Will arced an eyebrow then shrugged. “We could use the assistance. Our last healer left for Evermeet.”
Varick frowned, “Evermeet? You must have really upset him.”
Marcus started to correct him, then he noticed Varick was grinning. They chuckled together as they all strode out of the temple. At Will’s side was a scroll tube tightly packed with the high level spells for which he had traded the enemy spellbooks. They were off to meet Delorian outside the Thayan enclave.
After taking care of business in the Thayan enclave the four headed to Inn of the Blue Drake. Marcus had an enchanted pair of gloves and magic bag. Delorian had an set of enchanted bracers. Will had bought a gem that held a powerful fire elemental. These objects, and the things they had bought Plickit would serve them well in the Underdark.
As they approached the inn, Plickit caught up to them. He told them he had been successful. The wand the druids were creating for him would be ready in a couple of days. They strode into the inn’s courtyard. Will stopped a moment and stood looking off into space.
In his head the woman’s voice was back. “Having fun shopping, human? It will not help you. You should have headed my warning, insolent fool. Here is something for you to play with.”
Will blinked and grabbed by the arm. He called to the others, “Be on guard!” His other hand was already reaching for his spell component pouch.
A disgusting smell accompanied a sickening green light that flashed in front of them. Marcus growled, “Too late.” A massive froglike demon stood before them. Huge rows of sharp teeth were revealed, sickening putrid drool rolling from the thick lips as it opened its mouth to roar defiance at the heroes.
Varick growled, “A hezrou demon.” His mace slipped easily into his grasp as he stepped forward. Holy light bathed off the mace’s head, dripping like glowing white water, only to disappear before it hit the ground.
Plickit dropped into a roll, slipping to one side of the demon. His many hands came up with weapons in them.
Delorian shifted to one side and glanced up at the glaring sun above him. He cursed softly, and then was startled as something partially blocked the sun’s rays. Atop the large five-story inn, three more demons stood leering down at them. He pointed up at them, “More on the roof!”
Wraithdrit
First Post
The letter they received talked of 5 or 6 ten days before the Great Revenance, so they decided that they needed to get refits and so forth.
sithramir
First Post
Well that last update puts you're campaign a bit ahead of where I am in a campaign of spider queen i'm playing in. Was just wondernig if we'd have time like that as my character is going to take his first level of my arch-lich template soon and needs a few days to um... you know 
The best part is the rest of the group will never know! Cackles maniacally!
The best part is the rest of the group will never know! Cackles maniacally!
Nightingale 7
First Post
Hello again Wraithdrit!Your campaign seems to be going from good to better!I am VERY glad to see a campaign where the players explore the many different cities of Faerun.In most cases a campaign starts in WAterdeep/Shadowdale etc and tend to stay there,as if being built in the center of a void.It was a good way of showing the Realms' wealth and diversity of civilisations and lifestyles.
The way you integrated the adventure hook about the "darkhouse of Saerloon" was very smooth indeed.
Care to give us some behind-the-scenes info on Amador's and Mytrym's departure?I am very curious to see who will replace Mytrym in the "tank" role.The new character should be a tank,since Plickit,Marcus and Delorian are mostly strategic,hit-and-run types.
The way you integrated the adventure hook about the "darkhouse of Saerloon" was very smooth indeed.
Care to give us some behind-the-scenes info on Amador's and Mytrym's departure?I am very curious to see who will replace Mytrym in the "tank" role.The new character should be a tank,since Plickit,Marcus and Delorian are mostly strategic,hit-and-run types.
Wraithdrit
First Post
Varick of Mystra is the new addition. He is much more of a tank cleric than Amador (the elf just didn't have the constitution for it, and prefered his bow). At the same time, Delorian, Marcus, and Plickit are going to have to step up their staying power. The party has also thought of relying a little more on Summoning spells from Will for front line fighters. The options are plenty.
Oh, and thanks for the kind words. They are always appreciated.
Oh, and thanks for the kind words. They are always appreciated.
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