Nightingale 7
First Post
That still leaves us one character shy.Did Mytrym's player had other obligations and quit the group,or is the new character not introduced yet?
Wraith's Whispers - CoSQ (Update: 4/5/04)
Wraithdrit
First Post
Both Mytrym and Amador's players left the group. We thought of going with four, but then ended up adding a new fifth player.
Stone Angel
First Post
Gosh do I love this story hour. Play more write more quit your day jobs and do this full time. If every reader put in a dollar a week. Errr....Gotta little carried away...Hehe..haha. Now get to work!
Wraithdrit
First Post
LOL! Thanks Stone Angel. Maybe some day I can write enough to quit my day job (but I doubt it).
We are taking a small hiatus (three weeks between games instead of two) due to the arrival of Will's player's daughter! Joyous occasion!
I really need to get working on the story hour update for the last session though, lest my players get out a rope and find a tall tree...
We are taking a small hiatus (three weeks between games instead of two) due to the arrival of Will's player's daughter! Joyous occasion!
I really need to get working on the story hour update for the last session though, lest my players get out a rope and find a tall tree...
Stone Angel
First Post
*gently nudges* com'on lets go, I need something read while I am working. Please update soon. Must have fix. Plus I need to know what to expect in our next session of CoTSQ.
Wraithdrit
First Post
Now that would be cheating! Besides, my version of CoTSQ is so divergent from the printed module that you would never be able to seperate what is mine and what is theirs. Unless of course you have read it.Stone Angel said:
We play again Monday (finally!) so some time between then and now there will be a big update (or two smaller ones). I have a fairly firm rule about being up to date when the game starts.
Wraithdrit
First Post
(Just to keep Stone Angel from having to do too much work...)
Varick lifted his morningstar, the star head shaped in the likeness of the stars of Mystra. He presented in front of himself and called out a loud prayer to the Lady of Mysteries. A golden light rippled forth from the morningstar, an answer to his prayer. The hezrou recoiled at the symbol and growled out something in an infernal tongue. It lunged forward, stopped suddenly. Ethereal tendrils of light were holding it in place. The demon cried out in anger and looked down at the golden rift opening beneath it. In a howl of anguish the demon was sucked into the rift, and it closed behind him.
Howls from the rooftop sent the remaining heroes in action. The vrocks each seemed to shudder, and multiple mirror images of each of the beasts appeared alongside them. Will lifted his hands and muttered a few arcane words. Bursts of fire ripped up around each of the demons. The massive vrocks were bathed in multiple blasts and reeled from the intense heat of the bursts. When the smoke cleared, all three demons were still standing, but they were all charred badly.
Plickit bolted out of the inn’s courtyard, running around to the side of the building, looking for a way to flank the demons. Delorian and Marcus spread out, watching the demons closely.
One leapt off the rooftop, its wings snapping out to carry it down into the midst of the group. It swooped in near Varick, its talons lashing out at the priest. The priest responded with his holy morningstar. With two quick smashes from the holy weapon, the vrock fell dead at the priest’s feet.
Another one launched from the rooftop. It let out a piercing screech that sent the group stumbling. As the group attempted to shake off the effects of the scream, the vrock shuddered and thousands of tiny spores exploded from its skin, embedding in the skin of its prey, Varick, Marcus, and Delorian.
Will was still trying to shake off the effects of the second vrock’s scream when the last vrock swooped in. Its taloned feet snatched the wizard up. As it carried him upward, the vrock shuddered, and spores embedded in the wizard as well.
The other vrock watched as Varick, stunned from the scream, dropped his holy morningstar. The beast cackled and threw out one hand. It growled out in infernal, but all of them heard it in their minds, “You won’t be needing that anymore!” With a flick of its wrist the holy weapon flipped through the air, landing on the rooftop nearby.
Will blinked, the pain of the spores finally clearing his mind. He started to struggle, but it was too late, some five stories up in the air, the vrock tossed him away. Will tried to reach out, but the vrock quickly pulled its legs in and watched the wizard fall to the ground far below. Will hit with a sickening crunch, bones breaking, and blood welling into his mouth.
The other closer vrock leapt to the air and was raking Varick with its talons and beak. Delorian tried to hit it, but his attacks seemed to have little effects on the unholy demons. Marcus ran up along the wall of the courtyard, stabbing out with his rapier at the closest one.
Will tried to lift himself up, but the pain was too much, and he heard another vrock flapping around just above him. He rolled onto his back, blood slipping from between his lips as he muttered arcane words of fire. His eyes lit up with bright flames. His hands came up and the vrock looked down at him, surprised to see him still moving. Fire leapt from the wizard’s hands, but the vrock was too quick, and leapt easily to the side of the slow attack.
The demon called something out in its infernal tongue, but all heard it in their heads. “Fool. Your feeble attacks can not touch me!” Its wings folded in and it dived toward the wizard.
Will never looked away. “I wasn’t aiming at you.” The wizard growled in pain as small vines started to grow from his skin. Delorian, Marcus and Varick were likewise finding the spores effects quite horrifying. But Will just watched the flames arch up to between the two remaining vrock. The closest one to him saw him looking past and glanced up, recognizing too late that the jet of flame was similar to the pea shaped ball of fire of a fireball.
Only bigger, much bigger.
The explosion was seen across the city. It lit up the noon sky to levels of brightness that Saerloon rarely saw even at high noon in summer. The flames rippled out, engulfing both the vrocks, but leaving the inn untouched by anything but the minor flaming debris falling from the corpses of the vrocks.
Varick quickly pulled forth a vial of holy water and washed it over the vines growing from his skin. The vines melted away, leaving tiny holes in his skin, but no more growth. Will sat up and quickly drank a potion. The vines died off him as well, turning brittle and cracking and falling away. Delorian walked over to Will, glancing at Varick as the priest applied holy water to the vines growing from Marcus. The monk asked Will, “do you have any more of those.” Will looked from Delorian to Varick, then shook his head, “Sorry.”
Delorian looked to the priest and frowned. Being lathered in Mystra’s holy water was not something monk had any intentions of allowing. Marcus made the choice unnecessary. “I have one.” He fished out the neutralize poison potion and handed it over. Delorian nodded his thanks and down the potion quickly. Varick knelt down and healed Will as Plickit returned to the group.
Glancing up at the top of the inn, Varick asked Marcus, “Mind retrieving my morningstar?” Marcus quickly climbed the walls of the inn as a crowd gathered to discuss what had just happened. Guards showed up, but by all accounts the heroes had just saved the entire inn from certain destruction.
As they stood recovering, a young elven lass dressed all in blue, that the group had seen the previous day in the inn’s main room, came bouncing up to the party. She opened her mouth to talk and never seemed to stop. “That was so wonderful! Your fire spells are amazing. How do you conjure fire so well?”
Will tried to get a word in edgewise. “Well, lots of study.”
The elf giggled, “But you are only a human. I’ve seen elven high mages that can not conjure such wonderful spells. You simply must tell me your secret. Unless of course… oh, how silly of me.” She leaned in and whispered, though everyone around could easily hear. “You aren’t actually human are you… masquerading with the little people are we?”
Will smirked, “Well, you know…”
“Oh I do! I do.” She waved her hands rapidly as she talked. “I tell you, these humans, they are fun to watch though, aren’t they?” A large hulking human warrior that they had seen with her before stepped up behind her. He did not even seem to notice her mention of humans, and seemed to be paying much more attention to all of them. He seemed to be waiting for one of them to make a wrong move of some sort. His stance was tense, and though his massive axe was on his back, it did not really look like he needed it to be competent in combat.
The elf continued, “So how long have you been in the city? Going to stay long? You just simply have to tell me about your fire magic.”
Will shrugged and changed the subject, “So why are you in Saerloon? Just watching the little people?”
“Oh no, dear no. I have business here. This group of humans wants something from me.” Again she failed to whisper quietly, “You know how they are. They always want something from us.” Again in a louder voice, one octave below ear piercing, “I give them a little of what they want and they just simply shower me with gifts. So I’m staying here for a while, see how long they are willing to cower for my attention. You know how it is.”
Will just nodded, “Indeed.” About then, Plickit strode up. He studied the elf and her human escort. His head cocked to one side. “This is Plickit… he’s with me. I’m sorry, I did not get your name…”
She absently answered, “Tiana.” She seemed taken with Plickit and leaned forward into his personal space to study him closely. “How… interesting.” She giggled and clapped her hands looking at Will, “You have a pet bug!” She turned to Plickit and spoke very loud and slowly. “Hello… Plickit! Can … you … understand… common?”
Plickit opened his mandibles to speak then just sighed and closed them again and turned to walk away.
Tiana just blinked, “Was it something I said?”
Delorian wandered back into the inn, his entire body hurting from the growth of vines that though now gone, had left holes all throughout his skin. When he got inside, he found the darkest corner he could find. When his natural healing did kick in well enough for his tastes, he closed his eyes and willed the inn as dark as night.
The rest of the heroes were outside, when the screams of panic came from the inn. People were running from the main room, screaming about demons making them blind and so forth. Will walked over, looked in and called out, “Delorian, if you are causing this darkness, stop it. We’ve had enough trouble for one day.”
The monk sighed but let the light return. Marcus walked up to the bar as the bartender finally came out from hiding. His response at a request for a drink was not too welcoming. “I think its time you and yours left,” growled the innkeeper.
“What? We just saved your inn!”
“From demons that you probably brought with you! You travel with hellspawn,” the innkeeper thrust a finger at Delorian, “Now leave!”
Will interrupted, “Alright. We’ll leave… relax. Come on everyone, lets go.”
Marcus growled, “No. I’m not leaving.”
The innkeeper looked at the guards still milling about. “What?”
Marcus shook his head. “I said, I’m not leaving. Not until you pay us what is owed. We prepaid for the room. If we aren’t staying, then give me back the extra money.”
The innkeeper stood narrowed his eyes at Marcus, then growled a curse under his breath and retrieved a few silver from the cashbox behind the bar. “Here. Now go!”
Will and the others turned to walk out. Tiana stopped Will and grinned, “Don’t be a stranger…. Human.” She winked, giggled and bounced off towards the stairs of the inn.
As the group walked out, Plickit just muttered to the others, “Why can’t I eat elves again?”
Will glanced back. "I think that one might give you a severe case of indigestion."
Varick lifted his morningstar, the star head shaped in the likeness of the stars of Mystra. He presented in front of himself and called out a loud prayer to the Lady of Mysteries. A golden light rippled forth from the morningstar, an answer to his prayer. The hezrou recoiled at the symbol and growled out something in an infernal tongue. It lunged forward, stopped suddenly. Ethereal tendrils of light were holding it in place. The demon cried out in anger and looked down at the golden rift opening beneath it. In a howl of anguish the demon was sucked into the rift, and it closed behind him.
Howls from the rooftop sent the remaining heroes in action. The vrocks each seemed to shudder, and multiple mirror images of each of the beasts appeared alongside them. Will lifted his hands and muttered a few arcane words. Bursts of fire ripped up around each of the demons. The massive vrocks were bathed in multiple blasts and reeled from the intense heat of the bursts. When the smoke cleared, all three demons were still standing, but they were all charred badly.
Plickit bolted out of the inn’s courtyard, running around to the side of the building, looking for a way to flank the demons. Delorian and Marcus spread out, watching the demons closely.
One leapt off the rooftop, its wings snapping out to carry it down into the midst of the group. It swooped in near Varick, its talons lashing out at the priest. The priest responded with his holy morningstar. With two quick smashes from the holy weapon, the vrock fell dead at the priest’s feet.
Another one launched from the rooftop. It let out a piercing screech that sent the group stumbling. As the group attempted to shake off the effects of the scream, the vrock shuddered and thousands of tiny spores exploded from its skin, embedding in the skin of its prey, Varick, Marcus, and Delorian.
Will was still trying to shake off the effects of the second vrock’s scream when the last vrock swooped in. Its taloned feet snatched the wizard up. As it carried him upward, the vrock shuddered, and spores embedded in the wizard as well.
The other vrock watched as Varick, stunned from the scream, dropped his holy morningstar. The beast cackled and threw out one hand. It growled out in infernal, but all of them heard it in their minds, “You won’t be needing that anymore!” With a flick of its wrist the holy weapon flipped through the air, landing on the rooftop nearby.
Will blinked, the pain of the spores finally clearing his mind. He started to struggle, but it was too late, some five stories up in the air, the vrock tossed him away. Will tried to reach out, but the vrock quickly pulled its legs in and watched the wizard fall to the ground far below. Will hit with a sickening crunch, bones breaking, and blood welling into his mouth.
The other closer vrock leapt to the air and was raking Varick with its talons and beak. Delorian tried to hit it, but his attacks seemed to have little effects on the unholy demons. Marcus ran up along the wall of the courtyard, stabbing out with his rapier at the closest one.
Will tried to lift himself up, but the pain was too much, and he heard another vrock flapping around just above him. He rolled onto his back, blood slipping from between his lips as he muttered arcane words of fire. His eyes lit up with bright flames. His hands came up and the vrock looked down at him, surprised to see him still moving. Fire leapt from the wizard’s hands, but the vrock was too quick, and leapt easily to the side of the slow attack.
The demon called something out in its infernal tongue, but all heard it in their heads. “Fool. Your feeble attacks can not touch me!” Its wings folded in and it dived toward the wizard.
Will never looked away. “I wasn’t aiming at you.” The wizard growled in pain as small vines started to grow from his skin. Delorian, Marcus and Varick were likewise finding the spores effects quite horrifying. But Will just watched the flames arch up to between the two remaining vrock. The closest one to him saw him looking past and glanced up, recognizing too late that the jet of flame was similar to the pea shaped ball of fire of a fireball.
Only bigger, much bigger.
The explosion was seen across the city. It lit up the noon sky to levels of brightness that Saerloon rarely saw even at high noon in summer. The flames rippled out, engulfing both the vrocks, but leaving the inn untouched by anything but the minor flaming debris falling from the corpses of the vrocks.
Varick quickly pulled forth a vial of holy water and washed it over the vines growing from his skin. The vines melted away, leaving tiny holes in his skin, but no more growth. Will sat up and quickly drank a potion. The vines died off him as well, turning brittle and cracking and falling away. Delorian walked over to Will, glancing at Varick as the priest applied holy water to the vines growing from Marcus. The monk asked Will, “do you have any more of those.” Will looked from Delorian to Varick, then shook his head, “Sorry.”
Delorian looked to the priest and frowned. Being lathered in Mystra’s holy water was not something monk had any intentions of allowing. Marcus made the choice unnecessary. “I have one.” He fished out the neutralize poison potion and handed it over. Delorian nodded his thanks and down the potion quickly. Varick knelt down and healed Will as Plickit returned to the group.
Glancing up at the top of the inn, Varick asked Marcus, “Mind retrieving my morningstar?” Marcus quickly climbed the walls of the inn as a crowd gathered to discuss what had just happened. Guards showed up, but by all accounts the heroes had just saved the entire inn from certain destruction.
As they stood recovering, a young elven lass dressed all in blue, that the group had seen the previous day in the inn’s main room, came bouncing up to the party. She opened her mouth to talk and never seemed to stop. “That was so wonderful! Your fire spells are amazing. How do you conjure fire so well?”
Will tried to get a word in edgewise. “Well, lots of study.”
The elf giggled, “But you are only a human. I’ve seen elven high mages that can not conjure such wonderful spells. You simply must tell me your secret. Unless of course… oh, how silly of me.” She leaned in and whispered, though everyone around could easily hear. “You aren’t actually human are you… masquerading with the little people are we?”
Will smirked, “Well, you know…”
“Oh I do! I do.” She waved her hands rapidly as she talked. “I tell you, these humans, they are fun to watch though, aren’t they?” A large hulking human warrior that they had seen with her before stepped up behind her. He did not even seem to notice her mention of humans, and seemed to be paying much more attention to all of them. He seemed to be waiting for one of them to make a wrong move of some sort. His stance was tense, and though his massive axe was on his back, it did not really look like he needed it to be competent in combat.
The elf continued, “So how long have you been in the city? Going to stay long? You just simply have to tell me about your fire magic.”
Will shrugged and changed the subject, “So why are you in Saerloon? Just watching the little people?”
“Oh no, dear no. I have business here. This group of humans wants something from me.” Again she failed to whisper quietly, “You know how they are. They always want something from us.” Again in a louder voice, one octave below ear piercing, “I give them a little of what they want and they just simply shower me with gifts. So I’m staying here for a while, see how long they are willing to cower for my attention. You know how it is.”
Will just nodded, “Indeed.” About then, Plickit strode up. He studied the elf and her human escort. His head cocked to one side. “This is Plickit… he’s with me. I’m sorry, I did not get your name…”
She absently answered, “Tiana.” She seemed taken with Plickit and leaned forward into his personal space to study him closely. “How… interesting.” She giggled and clapped her hands looking at Will, “You have a pet bug!” She turned to Plickit and spoke very loud and slowly. “Hello… Plickit! Can … you … understand… common?”
Plickit opened his mandibles to speak then just sighed and closed them again and turned to walk away.
Tiana just blinked, “Was it something I said?”
Delorian wandered back into the inn, his entire body hurting from the growth of vines that though now gone, had left holes all throughout his skin. When he got inside, he found the darkest corner he could find. When his natural healing did kick in well enough for his tastes, he closed his eyes and willed the inn as dark as night.
The rest of the heroes were outside, when the screams of panic came from the inn. People were running from the main room, screaming about demons making them blind and so forth. Will walked over, looked in and called out, “Delorian, if you are causing this darkness, stop it. We’ve had enough trouble for one day.”
The monk sighed but let the light return. Marcus walked up to the bar as the bartender finally came out from hiding. His response at a request for a drink was not too welcoming. “I think its time you and yours left,” growled the innkeeper.
“What? We just saved your inn!”
“From demons that you probably brought with you! You travel with hellspawn,” the innkeeper thrust a finger at Delorian, “Now leave!”
Will interrupted, “Alright. We’ll leave… relax. Come on everyone, lets go.”
Marcus growled, “No. I’m not leaving.”
The innkeeper looked at the guards still milling about. “What?”
Marcus shook his head. “I said, I’m not leaving. Not until you pay us what is owed. We prepaid for the room. If we aren’t staying, then give me back the extra money.”
The innkeeper stood narrowed his eyes at Marcus, then growled a curse under his breath and retrieved a few silver from the cashbox behind the bar. “Here. Now go!”
Will and the others turned to walk out. Tiana stopped Will and grinned, “Don’t be a stranger…. Human.” She winked, giggled and bounced off towards the stairs of the inn.
As the group walked out, Plickit just muttered to the others, “Why can’t I eat elves again?”
Will glanced back. "I think that one might give you a severe case of indigestion."
Wraithdrit
First Post
When the group had regrouped outside, their packs slung over their shoulders, Will turned on Delorian almost immediately. “What the hell was that all about?”
“I’m not sure what you are talking about.” Delorian frowned ever so slightly.
“Your little light trick in the middle of the inn.”
“It was too bright.” Out of the corner of his eye Delorian saw Plickit circling around to behind him. He turned sideways to be able to watch both Plickit and Will at the same time.
“Between how you are acting, and what your boss has been up to, I’m starting to wonder whose side you are really on.” Will was mad, stepping forward a bit, his eyes blazed bright with inner fire.
Delorian shook his head, “My motivations and have been and always will be to the city of Shade.”
Marcus chuckled, “Even though they banished you?” Delorian just shrugged.
Will went on, “My problem is that you have already once shown us your willingness to turn on your companions at the word of Clariburnus. How do I know that same fate does not await us?”
“I could never hope to take all of you, even if I were so ordered.”
Varick frowned, “That was not really a good answer. Anyone of us are vulnerable in our sleep.”
Delorian shook his head, “While some here would advocate such a tactic, it is not my way.”
Will nodded, “I see. Instead you advocate a tactic that involves giving your companions cursed items?”
Delorian blinked, looking surprised. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”
Plickit’s mandibles clacked together loudly. “Sure you don’t-tck…”
Marcus nodded, “The rings, Delorian.”
The monk looked between them and held out his hands, palms up. “The darkvision rings. What about them?”
Will answered, “On a tip from the Lady Firehands we checked them out. Turns out they have a second power. The power to make their wearer susceptible to magics cast by a shadow weave user.”
Delorian opened his mouth to speak then clamped it shut. He looked down then back up and sighed, “I had no idea such an enchantment was on them. You’ll have to talk to Clariburnus about that.”
“We intend to.” Will glanced at the items that Delorian wore. “We should also check out your gear.”
Delorian nodded, “I trust Clariburnus, but if it would make you feel better…”
The group went to an inn across town and the next morning Will was identifying Delorian’s items. They all gathered to hear what he had to say. Will looked at Delorian and pointed at the various items arrayed before him. “Most of these are fairly straight forward, they do exactly what you told me they would. The only one different is that.” He pointed to the magical tattoo now clearly visible on Delorian’s forearm since his magic bracers where on the table in front of him.
Delorian looked down at the tattoo. “Continue.” His look was one of grim determination. He had fought hard for Clariburnus. His loyalty was absolute, but it was time now to find out whether that loyalty went both ways.
“Besides communication with the tattoo’s owner, the person who holds the gem that is linked with the tattoo can will its owner’s death at any time.”
Delorian did not seem to have any reaction, but Marcus could see the monk’s jaw muscles tightening. Marcus bit his lower lip then shook his head a bit. Delorian may not be the perfect ally, but no one deserves a death just because someone else wills it.
Will looked at the others. “I think its time we had a talk with Clariburnus.” To Delorian he said, “Summon your master Delorian. He has some explaining to do. We will all be outside.”
Varick nodded, “In the sun.” The group left Delorian behind, and reattached all of his gear except the bracer that covered the tattoo. He ran his fingers over the intricate marks and pondered their newly exposed meanings. Was his life worth that little to his lord and master? His fingers touched the right spots, and the tattoo’s magic came to life. He communicated the message and soon Clariburnus was standing near him.
“Where are they? And what is this about?” The prince of shade looked tired. His eyes were more sunken than usual, and he ran a hand through his long hair.
Delorian nodded at the door. “They wanted to make sure they talked to you in the light of the sun, m’lord.”
Clariburnus narrowed his eyes then nodded, “Good. They are getting smarter.”
In the streets in front of the inn, the group awaited the prince and his servant. Delorian stepped off to one side, watching Will and Clariburnus.
Will started, “We had the rings you gave us identified. Mind explaining their secondary powers and why you gave us something so dangerous?”
Clariburnus looked confused a moment. “Oh that… right. They are standard issue. I did not really think through the repercussions of you wearing them outside the city. Have you run into shadow weave users?”
Will shook his head, “That’s not the point. You could have used them on us any time.”
The prince nodded, “Aye, I could have. If I really wanted you dead though, there are many other ways I could accomplish that.”
Delorian nodded and tapped his forearm, “Ways like my tattoo?”
Clariburnus looked at Delorian, then to the ground. He seemed to be weighing his options, and then finally he nodded, “Aye. Ways like that. I suppose now that you know, you should know the news from the city.
“Hadrhune’s whispers have become a poison seed in my father’s ear in regards to this matter, and more importantly, in regards to Delorian. My father has decided that the banishment will be permanent. Problem is that Delorian is a shade, and no shade is allowed to ever leave the city permanently. Thus, the banishment is now a death sentence.
“A death sentence that you know I could accomplish with a single word. But I do not choose to do that.”
Will frowned, “Why? If the High Prince ordered it…”
Clariburnus grinned, “He did not order me to do it.” He pulled the gem out of a small pouch. “Though Delorian’s death is ordered, I was not directly ordered to do it, so I won’t. Besides, its beneath me to do petty assassinations. No, I choose not to be the instrument of my lord’s destruction, not in this regard.” With that he dropped the gem on the ground. It bounced once then settled. Clariburnus lifted his boot and smashed the gem beneath his heel.
Delorian reacted like he had been stabbed. Crying out in pain, he grabbed his arm and fell to his knees. He ripped the bracer off and his arm beneath was cooking as the magical tattoo burned itself away.
Clariburnus looked between them all. “I would conclude your business in Saerloon quickly. Hadrhune will probably come after you all soon. The faezress of the Underdark will give you a small measure of protection against scrying and teleportation attacks.” He looked back to Delorian, “I wish things had ended better for us Delorian. Good luck, and I hope to never see you again. For if I did, I would be duty bound to kill you.”
Delorian looked up from the ground, still holding his burnt arm. He grit his teeth and nodded once to his former lord and master.
Clariburnus turned and walked back into the inn.
Marcus shook his head, “I do so hope he finds a better hobby than us.”
Varick nodded, “Indeed. Perhaps we should retire to the temple, we would be safer there.”
Delorian looked up, his arm had already started scarring, his amazing monk healing abilities taking up where his shade healing failed him in the light. “I can not go into your temple.”
Varick frowned, “Perhaps…” But he knew that Delorian was right, there would be no way that Delorian would be allowed in. “Come to the temple steps, and let me talk to Lady Firehands.”
Delorian looked around the city then nodded.
When they got to the temple steps, Delorian waited outside while the others went in. After a time, two rows of guards marched out the front gates, flanking a woman dressed in regal blue robes. The guards circled Delorian, and then turned to face outward. The woman nodded, “Delorian… I am Lady Firehands of Mystra. Varick has explained the situation to me.” She motioned back behind her where Varick stood with the rest of the group.
Delorian nodded, “Well met, m’lady.” He bowed slightly then straightened.
“I would offer you sanctuary, but I can not allow one that worships Shar into my temple.”
“Then I will remain outside.”
“You could die out here.”
“Then I will die.”
“Why not renounce her? You could remain a shade… but you do not have to serve a deity that has shown you nothing but scorn and punishment, even as you attempt to do her will for her.”
“Shar is the only god or goddess I know.”
“There are others, many others.”
“Not for a shade. My thanks for your advice and offer m’lady. But there is nothing you can say that will force me to renounce my goddess. Shar is a way of life where I come from. She is a part of me, as much as being a shade is part of me. Perhaps one day I will learn to separate the two, but I believe enough has changed in my life for one day.”
Lady Firehands studied Delorian for several moments then nodded, “Very well. Your loyalty, even if misplaced, is commendable. I wish you luck in whatever it is you do with the rest of your life.” She bowed slightly, which Delorian returned. She turned and strode back toward the temple doors. Her guards flowed around her, making room for the others near her when she stopped to talk to Varick.
Varick shook his head, as he watched Delorian stride down the long walk away from the temple. The monk’s head was held high, despite all that happened to him. “I take it he refused.”
Lady Firehands nodded, “As he should. He has convictions, and though those convictions are wrong, they are strong. Its what makes him who he is. Perhaps one day we can turn those convictions into a force for something other than evil.”
Varick looked back at his mistress, “I sense no evil in him, despite his worship of Shar.”
Lady Firehands nodded, “That’s what scares me. If he survives the night, keep an eye on him. Help him learn the error of his goddess’ ways. Perhaps in time he will become a worthy ally to our cause. Shar’s grip is strong. It will hurt if he renounces her, but whatever damage she does, we will undo for him. When the time is right, tell him that.”
Varick nodded then bowed, “Of course, Mistress.”
She looked to the others. “Come lets find you all rooms.” They turned to go inside, all except Plickit.
The thrikreen watched Delorian go, his hand sliding the hilt of one of his new swords. He gripped the hilt tight and then finally let out a sort of growl. He knew the others were beginning the process of accepting the shade. In his heart he knew this was the worst mistake he could make. The shades were evil. Nothing about them could be forgiven, and especially not the dark goddess’ monks. Their kind had been instrumental in the attacks on his village. It was something he would never forget, ever.
When Plickit turned to walk inside Varick was waiting for him. As Plickit stepped in Varick put his arm around the thrikreen’s shoulders. He lifted a finger to his cloak pin, which momentarily turned into a small harp shaped pin. Plickit’s eyes grew large with surprise. Varick walked with the thrikreen toward the back halls of the temple, “There is much we should discuss, my friend.”
Temple of Mystra
Saerloon, Sembia
Marpenoth 21st, 1372, Early Morning
The group gathered in the temples interior and worked their way outside. Standing at the base of the steps was Delorian. Marcus was the first to him. “I see you made it through the night.”
Delorian nodded. “Indeed. It was an eventful night.”
Varick nodded, “Perhaps you’ll tell me about it someday.”
“Perhaps.”
Will and the rest stepped up. “Delorian.”
The monk nodded his greetings.
Will looked to the others. “Well then… into the Underdark it is then. Szith Morcane is a bit low for my tastes, not sure if the Faezress covers it or not, so we will teleport into the smuggler’s cove and make our way on foot from there.”
The group each put a hand on each other’s shoulder and Will raised his free hand and started drawing arcane symbols into the air. The air shimmered around the group and in a moment they were gone.
Above, standing on a balcony, looking down at the group as they disappeared, Lady Firehands turned to her guest and asked, “You sure they can do it?”
Storm nodded, “I … have faith that they will prevail.”
“Such small numbers against a threat buried within a city of drow… I’m not sure even an army could do what you ask of them.”
Storm got a far off look then shook her head and glanced over at Lady Firehands. “No… an army has already tried and failed.”
Lady Firehands’ eyebrows lifted, “You expect them to accomplish what an army could not?”
Storm smiled and stood from the chair she was reclining in. She glanced down at the empty steps and courtyard below and then clapped Lady Firehands on the shoulder. “If their will is strong enough, they can do anything, Mystra willing.”
Lady Firehands nodded, gripping the holy symbol that clung on a change around her neck tightly, “Mystra willing.”
“I’m not sure what you are talking about.” Delorian frowned ever so slightly.
“Your little light trick in the middle of the inn.”
“It was too bright.” Out of the corner of his eye Delorian saw Plickit circling around to behind him. He turned sideways to be able to watch both Plickit and Will at the same time.
“Between how you are acting, and what your boss has been up to, I’m starting to wonder whose side you are really on.” Will was mad, stepping forward a bit, his eyes blazed bright with inner fire.
Delorian shook his head, “My motivations and have been and always will be to the city of Shade.”
Marcus chuckled, “Even though they banished you?” Delorian just shrugged.
Will went on, “My problem is that you have already once shown us your willingness to turn on your companions at the word of Clariburnus. How do I know that same fate does not await us?”
“I could never hope to take all of you, even if I were so ordered.”
Varick frowned, “That was not really a good answer. Anyone of us are vulnerable in our sleep.”
Delorian shook his head, “While some here would advocate such a tactic, it is not my way.”
Will nodded, “I see. Instead you advocate a tactic that involves giving your companions cursed items?”
Delorian blinked, looking surprised. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”
Plickit’s mandibles clacked together loudly. “Sure you don’t-tck…”
Marcus nodded, “The rings, Delorian.”
The monk looked between them and held out his hands, palms up. “The darkvision rings. What about them?”
Will answered, “On a tip from the Lady Firehands we checked them out. Turns out they have a second power. The power to make their wearer susceptible to magics cast by a shadow weave user.”
Delorian opened his mouth to speak then clamped it shut. He looked down then back up and sighed, “I had no idea such an enchantment was on them. You’ll have to talk to Clariburnus about that.”
“We intend to.” Will glanced at the items that Delorian wore. “We should also check out your gear.”
Delorian nodded, “I trust Clariburnus, but if it would make you feel better…”
The group went to an inn across town and the next morning Will was identifying Delorian’s items. They all gathered to hear what he had to say. Will looked at Delorian and pointed at the various items arrayed before him. “Most of these are fairly straight forward, they do exactly what you told me they would. The only one different is that.” He pointed to the magical tattoo now clearly visible on Delorian’s forearm since his magic bracers where on the table in front of him.
Delorian looked down at the tattoo. “Continue.” His look was one of grim determination. He had fought hard for Clariburnus. His loyalty was absolute, but it was time now to find out whether that loyalty went both ways.
“Besides communication with the tattoo’s owner, the person who holds the gem that is linked with the tattoo can will its owner’s death at any time.”
Delorian did not seem to have any reaction, but Marcus could see the monk’s jaw muscles tightening. Marcus bit his lower lip then shook his head a bit. Delorian may not be the perfect ally, but no one deserves a death just because someone else wills it.
Will looked at the others. “I think its time we had a talk with Clariburnus.” To Delorian he said, “Summon your master Delorian. He has some explaining to do. We will all be outside.”
Varick nodded, “In the sun.” The group left Delorian behind, and reattached all of his gear except the bracer that covered the tattoo. He ran his fingers over the intricate marks and pondered their newly exposed meanings. Was his life worth that little to his lord and master? His fingers touched the right spots, and the tattoo’s magic came to life. He communicated the message and soon Clariburnus was standing near him.
“Where are they? And what is this about?” The prince of shade looked tired. His eyes were more sunken than usual, and he ran a hand through his long hair.
Delorian nodded at the door. “They wanted to make sure they talked to you in the light of the sun, m’lord.”
Clariburnus narrowed his eyes then nodded, “Good. They are getting smarter.”
In the streets in front of the inn, the group awaited the prince and his servant. Delorian stepped off to one side, watching Will and Clariburnus.
Will started, “We had the rings you gave us identified. Mind explaining their secondary powers and why you gave us something so dangerous?”
Clariburnus looked confused a moment. “Oh that… right. They are standard issue. I did not really think through the repercussions of you wearing them outside the city. Have you run into shadow weave users?”
Will shook his head, “That’s not the point. You could have used them on us any time.”
The prince nodded, “Aye, I could have. If I really wanted you dead though, there are many other ways I could accomplish that.”
Delorian nodded and tapped his forearm, “Ways like my tattoo?”
Clariburnus looked at Delorian, then to the ground. He seemed to be weighing his options, and then finally he nodded, “Aye. Ways like that. I suppose now that you know, you should know the news from the city.
“Hadrhune’s whispers have become a poison seed in my father’s ear in regards to this matter, and more importantly, in regards to Delorian. My father has decided that the banishment will be permanent. Problem is that Delorian is a shade, and no shade is allowed to ever leave the city permanently. Thus, the banishment is now a death sentence.
“A death sentence that you know I could accomplish with a single word. But I do not choose to do that.”
Will frowned, “Why? If the High Prince ordered it…”
Clariburnus grinned, “He did not order me to do it.” He pulled the gem out of a small pouch. “Though Delorian’s death is ordered, I was not directly ordered to do it, so I won’t. Besides, its beneath me to do petty assassinations. No, I choose not to be the instrument of my lord’s destruction, not in this regard.” With that he dropped the gem on the ground. It bounced once then settled. Clariburnus lifted his boot and smashed the gem beneath his heel.
Delorian reacted like he had been stabbed. Crying out in pain, he grabbed his arm and fell to his knees. He ripped the bracer off and his arm beneath was cooking as the magical tattoo burned itself away.
Clariburnus looked between them all. “I would conclude your business in Saerloon quickly. Hadrhune will probably come after you all soon. The faezress of the Underdark will give you a small measure of protection against scrying and teleportation attacks.” He looked back to Delorian, “I wish things had ended better for us Delorian. Good luck, and I hope to never see you again. For if I did, I would be duty bound to kill you.”
Delorian looked up from the ground, still holding his burnt arm. He grit his teeth and nodded once to his former lord and master.
Clariburnus turned and walked back into the inn.
Marcus shook his head, “I do so hope he finds a better hobby than us.”
Varick nodded, “Indeed. Perhaps we should retire to the temple, we would be safer there.”
Delorian looked up, his arm had already started scarring, his amazing monk healing abilities taking up where his shade healing failed him in the light. “I can not go into your temple.”
Varick frowned, “Perhaps…” But he knew that Delorian was right, there would be no way that Delorian would be allowed in. “Come to the temple steps, and let me talk to Lady Firehands.”
Delorian looked around the city then nodded.
When they got to the temple steps, Delorian waited outside while the others went in. After a time, two rows of guards marched out the front gates, flanking a woman dressed in regal blue robes. The guards circled Delorian, and then turned to face outward. The woman nodded, “Delorian… I am Lady Firehands of Mystra. Varick has explained the situation to me.” She motioned back behind her where Varick stood with the rest of the group.
Delorian nodded, “Well met, m’lady.” He bowed slightly then straightened.
“I would offer you sanctuary, but I can not allow one that worships Shar into my temple.”
“Then I will remain outside.”
“You could die out here.”
“Then I will die.”
“Why not renounce her? You could remain a shade… but you do not have to serve a deity that has shown you nothing but scorn and punishment, even as you attempt to do her will for her.”
“Shar is the only god or goddess I know.”
“There are others, many others.”
“Not for a shade. My thanks for your advice and offer m’lady. But there is nothing you can say that will force me to renounce my goddess. Shar is a way of life where I come from. She is a part of me, as much as being a shade is part of me. Perhaps one day I will learn to separate the two, but I believe enough has changed in my life for one day.”
Lady Firehands studied Delorian for several moments then nodded, “Very well. Your loyalty, even if misplaced, is commendable. I wish you luck in whatever it is you do with the rest of your life.” She bowed slightly, which Delorian returned. She turned and strode back toward the temple doors. Her guards flowed around her, making room for the others near her when she stopped to talk to Varick.
Varick shook his head, as he watched Delorian stride down the long walk away from the temple. The monk’s head was held high, despite all that happened to him. “I take it he refused.”
Lady Firehands nodded, “As he should. He has convictions, and though those convictions are wrong, they are strong. Its what makes him who he is. Perhaps one day we can turn those convictions into a force for something other than evil.”
Varick looked back at his mistress, “I sense no evil in him, despite his worship of Shar.”
Lady Firehands nodded, “That’s what scares me. If he survives the night, keep an eye on him. Help him learn the error of his goddess’ ways. Perhaps in time he will become a worthy ally to our cause. Shar’s grip is strong. It will hurt if he renounces her, but whatever damage she does, we will undo for him. When the time is right, tell him that.”
Varick nodded then bowed, “Of course, Mistress.”
She looked to the others. “Come lets find you all rooms.” They turned to go inside, all except Plickit.
The thrikreen watched Delorian go, his hand sliding the hilt of one of his new swords. He gripped the hilt tight and then finally let out a sort of growl. He knew the others were beginning the process of accepting the shade. In his heart he knew this was the worst mistake he could make. The shades were evil. Nothing about them could be forgiven, and especially not the dark goddess’ monks. Their kind had been instrumental in the attacks on his village. It was something he would never forget, ever.
When Plickit turned to walk inside Varick was waiting for him. As Plickit stepped in Varick put his arm around the thrikreen’s shoulders. He lifted a finger to his cloak pin, which momentarily turned into a small harp shaped pin. Plickit’s eyes grew large with surprise. Varick walked with the thrikreen toward the back halls of the temple, “There is much we should discuss, my friend.”
Temple of Mystra
Saerloon, Sembia
Marpenoth 21st, 1372, Early Morning
The group gathered in the temples interior and worked their way outside. Standing at the base of the steps was Delorian. Marcus was the first to him. “I see you made it through the night.”
Delorian nodded. “Indeed. It was an eventful night.”
Varick nodded, “Perhaps you’ll tell me about it someday.”
“Perhaps.”
Will and the rest stepped up. “Delorian.”
The monk nodded his greetings.
Will looked to the others. “Well then… into the Underdark it is then. Szith Morcane is a bit low for my tastes, not sure if the Faezress covers it or not, so we will teleport into the smuggler’s cove and make our way on foot from there.”
The group each put a hand on each other’s shoulder and Will raised his free hand and started drawing arcane symbols into the air. The air shimmered around the group and in a moment they were gone.
Above, standing on a balcony, looking down at the group as they disappeared, Lady Firehands turned to her guest and asked, “You sure they can do it?”
Storm nodded, “I … have faith that they will prevail.”
“Such small numbers against a threat buried within a city of drow… I’m not sure even an army could do what you ask of them.”
Storm got a far off look then shook her head and glanced over at Lady Firehands. “No… an army has already tried and failed.”
Lady Firehands’ eyebrows lifted, “You expect them to accomplish what an army could not?”
Storm smiled and stood from the chair she was reclining in. She glanced down at the empty steps and courtyard below and then clapped Lady Firehands on the shoulder. “If their will is strong enough, they can do anything, Mystra willing.”
Lady Firehands nodded, gripping the holy symbol that clung on a change around her neck tightly, “Mystra willing.”
Wraithdrit
First Post
Underdark
Just outside of Szith Morcane
Marpenoth 22nd, 1372
Delorian stalked quickly and quietly through the tunnels leading out of Szith Morcane. He was not in a very good mood. Though the mood of the shade was never very chipper, recent developments had him even less cheery.
Plickit had disappeared. Will had explained it rather matter of factly. The thrikreen had decided that he would better serve his people in the desert now that he had gotten as many as he could free through working with the party. Nothing more could be accomplished by the thrikreen here. Nothing for himself, thought Delorian. But what of the monumental task ahead. As far as Delorian, and perhaps others if the murmurs could be trusted, was concerned, Plickit had fled responsibility. He had what he wanted, so he left, no matter what the cost to the rest of them, or even the world.
Still Delorian knew he had to put those thoughts behind him, and continue his scouting for the rest of the group. The darkness of the Underdark was complete, but the party had little trouble picking its way along. Delorian’s Shade lineage allowed him to see easily enough. Will’s intense connection to the element of fire allowed him to see. Marcus’ long time spent in the dark confines of prison allowed for him to see as well. The only one who had trouble seeing was Varick, but he had spells to overcome that deficiency.
The tunnel ahead started to reveal a bit of a glow. There was light ahead. Delorian stalked forward till he could see around the natural rock formations to the source of the light. A lone drow sat before a tiny fire, nothing more than embers now. He was leaning back against a stalagmite, watching the fire. A long thin elven sword lay beside him, and a shield lay to the other side. He wore a dull black breastplate, mostly covered by a piwafi, the dark elven poncho like cloak.
Delorian examined the man for a few moments, then pulled open a shadow door and stepped through it, back to the party. He quickly related what he saw, then stepped back through the shadows to beyond the lone drow.
From the shadows, Will stepped forward and called out to the drow. The dark elf looked up, and nodded, returning the greeting. Delorian just watched.
Will asked the dark elf, “You seem to be waiting for something…”
“Indeed. And now here you are.”
“You waited for us?”
The dark elf nodded, but then scanned the area around him. “But two of your party are missing. Where are the shade and the thrikreen?”
Will shook his head, “Around. Why are you waiting for us?”
“My time in Szith Morcane needed to come to an end. Rumor had it you were heading to Maerimydra to deal with the Cult of the Banshee. I would like to join you. The White Banshee’s followers made my life miserable in Szith Morcane… I’d like to repay the favor.”
Delorian stepped out of the shadows. “You are looking for revenge?”
The drow did not seem surprised at the arrival, nor did he turn around to answer. “Indeed. I was content to live out my many years in Szith Morcane. The High Priestesses there left me alone. That is, until the Banshee’s wenches took over. They ruined what I had, so I figure its time for a bit of payback.”
Will nodded. “Well… it seems you are in luck, as we need guide to Maerimydra.”
The dark elf nodded, “I can help you navigate the passages of the Underdark, but the route to the city is not known to me. I am not from these parts, though I have passed through the city, once.”
Will turned to the others. “Having one of them along with us will probably make our journey a bit easier at times.”
Marcus frowned, “Or more difficult… their tyranny must be known under the earth more so than above it.”
Varick frowned, “I do not much fancy traveling with a spider-kisser, even one that is out for revenge. However, I do not fancy the odds of us four alone in the Underdark either.”
Will looked back to the dark elf. “What is your name stranger?”
“You can call me Malaghym.”
“Very well, Malaghym… you can travel with us for now. Prove your worth and trustworthiness to us, and you most likely have the revenge you seek.”
Malaghym nodded and motioned to the fire. “Warm yourselves then, we have a long journey ahead of us.
Underdark
Somewhere between Szith Morcane and the Lake of Shadows
Marpenoth 24th, 1372
Marcus was surprised to see Delorian appear before him. The journey through the Underdark, now a full two days in, was hard. The way, though well blazed from a century of drow travel, was unused in some time, and ways around giant rock formations, and through narrow caverns made the going slow. Luckily they had not run afoul of anything that called the Underdark home though. Well, nothing but a few mosses, fungi, deep bats, and the like.
Delorian appeared out of the gloom. “There is a river crossing ahead, in a large cavern. Looks like a pair of bridges span the gap, but it’s a very likely spot for an ambush.”
Marcus crept forward with the rest and gazed down the sloping natural passage. He could now hear the sounds of the river, and it sounded as if it was fairly swift. A large stone bridge spanned the first length of the river. Beyond it, a wooden bridge spanned a second branch. He motioned for the others to wait, while he checked the bridge out.
Stopping just before the bridge, Marcus could tell that it had been shaped by magic. Remnants of an old wood and rope bridge, similar to the other bridge, could be seen dangling from support posts on either side. Perhaps something had destroyed the old bridge, and when someone with the ability to cast such a spell found the way blocked, the stone bridge had been magically created. It was very sturdy, so Marcus carefully made his way across.
Just on the other side he froze in mid step. The earth on the other side was flat. Too flat. He bent down and examined it for a moment. It was shaped as well. He tapped the edge. It was hollow. A pit trap, made to look like stone, with no seem. Clever, thought Marcus. But not clever enough. He skirted to the side, smiling as he motioned to the others that the area was not safe.
As he got around the corner of the trap he started forward a moment, then froze in his footsteps. Being in a dungeon cell, alone, for as long as he had been, he had developed the ability to sense when something stirred near him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and he could just feel through the floor that something was moving. Something big.
The earth beyond the trap erupted, spraying earth and rock everywhere. A huge lump of rock shaped flesh heaved itself upward and huge meaty appendage flung out, slapping Marcus hard.
The former criminal was nearly taken off his feet, the force of the blow was so hard. It not only hurt due to physical impact though, the thing was covered in some sort of acidic slime. Everywhere it had hit Marcus burned as the acid ate away at his skin. Luckily his magic armor and cloak were spared for the most part.
Marcus rolled with the hit, tumbling back and away to the far edge of the island of earth as the beast growled out something in the language of the Underdark.
Whatever it said, Marcus guessed the rest of the party did not find it much comfort as everyone leapt to the attack. He could hear Will casting something, but the creature seemed to shrug off the effect fairly readily. Malaghym fired a pair of arrows at the thing, but they bounced harmlessly of its thick hide. A mystical weapon appeared above the creature, a morningstar shaped like Varick’s weapon. It slammed down atop the thing, causing it to grunt out a protest.
Whatever the thing had said though, the party’s response only seemed to anger it, and Marcus was on the receiving end of that anger, being as he was so close still. It shoved up out of the hole and slammed him yet again with its massive paw. He crumpled to the ground on the edge of the cliff leading to the water. He looked down a moment, and thought how the nice cool looking water would help to ease the pain of the acid that was burning deep into his flesh. He reached in to pull out one of his rods. If he could hit the water and keep his strength enough to hold onto the rod, he might be able to be pulled out.
The pain was unbearable though, and even as his thoughts of escape were forming, his vision started to tunnel. His hearing felt muted. The grunts of the beast seemed to be farther and farther away, but he knew it hadn’t moved. His eyes closed and the darkness closed in on him.
Will saw his cousin fall and screamed out in protest. One hand flew to his spell component pouch, and he quickly brought up a wall of fire around the massive beast. He thought he recognized it as a delver, but this one was much larger than he had been lead to believe. Perhaps the wall would keep it from Marcus long enough for them to get to him.
Delorian flashed in behind the beast, braving the blazing wall. The beasts hide was too thick though, and after a few attempts to hurt it left him with nothing. The wall was not burning him, his natural shade born resistance to fire preventing any damage, so he stayed in on the creature.
Varick summoned a massive flame strike in the center of the wall of flame, and the beast within screamed out in anguish and thrashed about looking for a way out. It spun on Delorian and both paws reached out to smash into him. The first hit spun Delorian to one side, and the second hit slammed the monk in the chest. Acid flew all over the monk and as he gritted his teeth against the pain, the magic of his belt, bracers, and gloves faded away as the items were burned through.
Will could see that the monk was reeling from the twin blows, and watched him quickly roll back and out of the creatures reach. As he fled toward the bridge he grabbed handfuls of shadow, preparing to step through and away given the opportunity.
Will grabbed more spell components out as he watched Malaghym toss aside his bow and run across the stone bridge, trying to reach Marcus.
The drow skirted between the pit trap, the wall of fire, and the sheer drip into icey waters. Grabbing Marcus he rolled him over. What he saw caused his heart to drop. Half of the human’s face was gone, the skin and muscle burned away, the bone sizzling away still. His eyes were closed, but the drow had seen enough corpses in his life to recognize one.
The beast thrashed within the wall of force, and spun to face Malaghym. The drow warrior could see the thing recoiling to launch itself at him. He could do no good to dead rogue, so he had to think of his own skin. The thing needed to die and fast. He hated to reveal himself so soon to his new companions, but he certainly did not want to die there.
Before Malaghym could act, explosions of fire blasted up from around the beast. Hitting it on all four sides. Will’s firebrand still did not kill the beast though. It shook off the effects and refocused on the drow.
Will saw the dark elf lift his hands up as he dropped the lifeless form of Marcus back to the ground. The drow’s entire form lit up as magical energy coursed through and out of him. The dark threw a single massive bolt of magical energy, a bluish flame that slammed into the delver. Will could tell with his arcane sight, that the drow was not a spellcaster, but that he held some sort of magical energy. Now it all made sense. The drow could channel spellfire.
The delver thrashed about, caught off guard by the powerful blast. The cleric’s spiritual weapon slammed into again and Varick called forth a ray of powerful energy that blasted the thing square in the chest. With a final sigh, the thing collapsed within the burning wall of fire.
***
The companions were in shock. In an instant, another of their members lay dead. Varick had summoned them a shelter, and Marcus was laid out inside. The cleric had cleaned up the body, but then told them the news they did not wish to hear. “I have the energy to bring him back, but not the materials I need.”
Will heard the words, but it took a moment for the shock to subside enough for him to speak. “What… what do you lack?”
“Diamonds. I need 5000 gold pieces worth of diamonds. It is the price the Gray Plane demands for the release of a soul. I’m sorry. He will be missed.”
Delorian stepped out, but came back in a moment later. “Quickly! The beast… its stomach… it ate metal… and gems.” The group rushed out, and in the middle of the charred carcass they found a few small gems, and a single diamond.
The joy of the find quickly turned sour as the diamond was heavily damaged, the acid of the beasts stomach having worked months to try and dissolve it. Will looked it over then handed it to Varick. “I have no idea how much this is worth, but I have diamond dust I can add as well.”
Varick nodded, “As do I have some, but I’m not sure it is enough. We will have to see what the Gray Plane takes.”
Varick required a nights rest before the ritual could begin. Will paced a bit, got some rest, then tried to study one of his new spells. Though he managed to commit it to memory, his heart was not really in it. All he could think about was Marcus laying dead on the bed near him. He remembered growing up with Marcus. He remembered all the family outings, the huge lavish parties his parents threw, and the major festivals that the two had gone to together, always managing to get in some sort of trouble. It was their first adventures really. Now he was dead… and none of Will’s powerful magics could do a thing about it.
Finally Varick began the ritual. The large diamond disappeared first, then the smaller diamonds that Varick had disappeared. Will feared his entire supply would be used up, and still it might not be enough. His pouch of diamond dust lay open, and as Varick continued to chant the small bits of diamond began to glow. The top of the pile disappeared first, then slowly more and more of the pile was eaten away. Will closed his eyes, holding his breath.
Varick stopped chanting. Will snapped his eyes open and turned to look at Marcus. His face was whole again, and some of the color had returned. It had worked.
Finally Will looked down at the diamond dust. Most of it was gone. But a small pile remained. He would be able to cast a few stoneskins still, but not too many. Hopefully he would have the opportunity to replace his supply soon, as he knew he would need it before this adventure was done.
Just outside of Szith Morcane
Marpenoth 22nd, 1372
Delorian stalked quickly and quietly through the tunnels leading out of Szith Morcane. He was not in a very good mood. Though the mood of the shade was never very chipper, recent developments had him even less cheery.
Plickit had disappeared. Will had explained it rather matter of factly. The thrikreen had decided that he would better serve his people in the desert now that he had gotten as many as he could free through working with the party. Nothing more could be accomplished by the thrikreen here. Nothing for himself, thought Delorian. But what of the monumental task ahead. As far as Delorian, and perhaps others if the murmurs could be trusted, was concerned, Plickit had fled responsibility. He had what he wanted, so he left, no matter what the cost to the rest of them, or even the world.
Still Delorian knew he had to put those thoughts behind him, and continue his scouting for the rest of the group. The darkness of the Underdark was complete, but the party had little trouble picking its way along. Delorian’s Shade lineage allowed him to see easily enough. Will’s intense connection to the element of fire allowed him to see. Marcus’ long time spent in the dark confines of prison allowed for him to see as well. The only one who had trouble seeing was Varick, but he had spells to overcome that deficiency.
The tunnel ahead started to reveal a bit of a glow. There was light ahead. Delorian stalked forward till he could see around the natural rock formations to the source of the light. A lone drow sat before a tiny fire, nothing more than embers now. He was leaning back against a stalagmite, watching the fire. A long thin elven sword lay beside him, and a shield lay to the other side. He wore a dull black breastplate, mostly covered by a piwafi, the dark elven poncho like cloak.
Delorian examined the man for a few moments, then pulled open a shadow door and stepped through it, back to the party. He quickly related what he saw, then stepped back through the shadows to beyond the lone drow.
From the shadows, Will stepped forward and called out to the drow. The dark elf looked up, and nodded, returning the greeting. Delorian just watched.
Will asked the dark elf, “You seem to be waiting for something…”
“Indeed. And now here you are.”
“You waited for us?”
The dark elf nodded, but then scanned the area around him. “But two of your party are missing. Where are the shade and the thrikreen?”
Will shook his head, “Around. Why are you waiting for us?”
“My time in Szith Morcane needed to come to an end. Rumor had it you were heading to Maerimydra to deal with the Cult of the Banshee. I would like to join you. The White Banshee’s followers made my life miserable in Szith Morcane… I’d like to repay the favor.”
Delorian stepped out of the shadows. “You are looking for revenge?”
The drow did not seem surprised at the arrival, nor did he turn around to answer. “Indeed. I was content to live out my many years in Szith Morcane. The High Priestesses there left me alone. That is, until the Banshee’s wenches took over. They ruined what I had, so I figure its time for a bit of payback.”
Will nodded. “Well… it seems you are in luck, as we need guide to Maerimydra.”
The dark elf nodded, “I can help you navigate the passages of the Underdark, but the route to the city is not known to me. I am not from these parts, though I have passed through the city, once.”
Will turned to the others. “Having one of them along with us will probably make our journey a bit easier at times.”
Marcus frowned, “Or more difficult… their tyranny must be known under the earth more so than above it.”
Varick frowned, “I do not much fancy traveling with a spider-kisser, even one that is out for revenge. However, I do not fancy the odds of us four alone in the Underdark either.”
Will looked back to the dark elf. “What is your name stranger?”
“You can call me Malaghym.”
“Very well, Malaghym… you can travel with us for now. Prove your worth and trustworthiness to us, and you most likely have the revenge you seek.”
Malaghym nodded and motioned to the fire. “Warm yourselves then, we have a long journey ahead of us.
Underdark
Somewhere between Szith Morcane and the Lake of Shadows
Marpenoth 24th, 1372
Marcus was surprised to see Delorian appear before him. The journey through the Underdark, now a full two days in, was hard. The way, though well blazed from a century of drow travel, was unused in some time, and ways around giant rock formations, and through narrow caverns made the going slow. Luckily they had not run afoul of anything that called the Underdark home though. Well, nothing but a few mosses, fungi, deep bats, and the like.
Delorian appeared out of the gloom. “There is a river crossing ahead, in a large cavern. Looks like a pair of bridges span the gap, but it’s a very likely spot for an ambush.”
Marcus crept forward with the rest and gazed down the sloping natural passage. He could now hear the sounds of the river, and it sounded as if it was fairly swift. A large stone bridge spanned the first length of the river. Beyond it, a wooden bridge spanned a second branch. He motioned for the others to wait, while he checked the bridge out.
Stopping just before the bridge, Marcus could tell that it had been shaped by magic. Remnants of an old wood and rope bridge, similar to the other bridge, could be seen dangling from support posts on either side. Perhaps something had destroyed the old bridge, and when someone with the ability to cast such a spell found the way blocked, the stone bridge had been magically created. It was very sturdy, so Marcus carefully made his way across.
Just on the other side he froze in mid step. The earth on the other side was flat. Too flat. He bent down and examined it for a moment. It was shaped as well. He tapped the edge. It was hollow. A pit trap, made to look like stone, with no seem. Clever, thought Marcus. But not clever enough. He skirted to the side, smiling as he motioned to the others that the area was not safe.
As he got around the corner of the trap he started forward a moment, then froze in his footsteps. Being in a dungeon cell, alone, for as long as he had been, he had developed the ability to sense when something stirred near him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and he could just feel through the floor that something was moving. Something big.
The earth beyond the trap erupted, spraying earth and rock everywhere. A huge lump of rock shaped flesh heaved itself upward and huge meaty appendage flung out, slapping Marcus hard.
The former criminal was nearly taken off his feet, the force of the blow was so hard. It not only hurt due to physical impact though, the thing was covered in some sort of acidic slime. Everywhere it had hit Marcus burned as the acid ate away at his skin. Luckily his magic armor and cloak were spared for the most part.
Marcus rolled with the hit, tumbling back and away to the far edge of the island of earth as the beast growled out something in the language of the Underdark.
Whatever it said, Marcus guessed the rest of the party did not find it much comfort as everyone leapt to the attack. He could hear Will casting something, but the creature seemed to shrug off the effect fairly readily. Malaghym fired a pair of arrows at the thing, but they bounced harmlessly of its thick hide. A mystical weapon appeared above the creature, a morningstar shaped like Varick’s weapon. It slammed down atop the thing, causing it to grunt out a protest.
Whatever the thing had said though, the party’s response only seemed to anger it, and Marcus was on the receiving end of that anger, being as he was so close still. It shoved up out of the hole and slammed him yet again with its massive paw. He crumpled to the ground on the edge of the cliff leading to the water. He looked down a moment, and thought how the nice cool looking water would help to ease the pain of the acid that was burning deep into his flesh. He reached in to pull out one of his rods. If he could hit the water and keep his strength enough to hold onto the rod, he might be able to be pulled out.
The pain was unbearable though, and even as his thoughts of escape were forming, his vision started to tunnel. His hearing felt muted. The grunts of the beast seemed to be farther and farther away, but he knew it hadn’t moved. His eyes closed and the darkness closed in on him.
Will saw his cousin fall and screamed out in protest. One hand flew to his spell component pouch, and he quickly brought up a wall of fire around the massive beast. He thought he recognized it as a delver, but this one was much larger than he had been lead to believe. Perhaps the wall would keep it from Marcus long enough for them to get to him.
Delorian flashed in behind the beast, braving the blazing wall. The beasts hide was too thick though, and after a few attempts to hurt it left him with nothing. The wall was not burning him, his natural shade born resistance to fire preventing any damage, so he stayed in on the creature.
Varick summoned a massive flame strike in the center of the wall of flame, and the beast within screamed out in anguish and thrashed about looking for a way out. It spun on Delorian and both paws reached out to smash into him. The first hit spun Delorian to one side, and the second hit slammed the monk in the chest. Acid flew all over the monk and as he gritted his teeth against the pain, the magic of his belt, bracers, and gloves faded away as the items were burned through.
Will could see that the monk was reeling from the twin blows, and watched him quickly roll back and out of the creatures reach. As he fled toward the bridge he grabbed handfuls of shadow, preparing to step through and away given the opportunity.
Will grabbed more spell components out as he watched Malaghym toss aside his bow and run across the stone bridge, trying to reach Marcus.
The drow skirted between the pit trap, the wall of fire, and the sheer drip into icey waters. Grabbing Marcus he rolled him over. What he saw caused his heart to drop. Half of the human’s face was gone, the skin and muscle burned away, the bone sizzling away still. His eyes were closed, but the drow had seen enough corpses in his life to recognize one.
The beast thrashed within the wall of force, and spun to face Malaghym. The drow warrior could see the thing recoiling to launch itself at him. He could do no good to dead rogue, so he had to think of his own skin. The thing needed to die and fast. He hated to reveal himself so soon to his new companions, but he certainly did not want to die there.
Before Malaghym could act, explosions of fire blasted up from around the beast. Hitting it on all four sides. Will’s firebrand still did not kill the beast though. It shook off the effects and refocused on the drow.
Will saw the dark elf lift his hands up as he dropped the lifeless form of Marcus back to the ground. The drow’s entire form lit up as magical energy coursed through and out of him. The dark threw a single massive bolt of magical energy, a bluish flame that slammed into the delver. Will could tell with his arcane sight, that the drow was not a spellcaster, but that he held some sort of magical energy. Now it all made sense. The drow could channel spellfire.
The delver thrashed about, caught off guard by the powerful blast. The cleric’s spiritual weapon slammed into again and Varick called forth a ray of powerful energy that blasted the thing square in the chest. With a final sigh, the thing collapsed within the burning wall of fire.
***
The companions were in shock. In an instant, another of their members lay dead. Varick had summoned them a shelter, and Marcus was laid out inside. The cleric had cleaned up the body, but then told them the news they did not wish to hear. “I have the energy to bring him back, but not the materials I need.”
Will heard the words, but it took a moment for the shock to subside enough for him to speak. “What… what do you lack?”
“Diamonds. I need 5000 gold pieces worth of diamonds. It is the price the Gray Plane demands for the release of a soul. I’m sorry. He will be missed.”
Delorian stepped out, but came back in a moment later. “Quickly! The beast… its stomach… it ate metal… and gems.” The group rushed out, and in the middle of the charred carcass they found a few small gems, and a single diamond.
The joy of the find quickly turned sour as the diamond was heavily damaged, the acid of the beasts stomach having worked months to try and dissolve it. Will looked it over then handed it to Varick. “I have no idea how much this is worth, but I have diamond dust I can add as well.”
Varick nodded, “As do I have some, but I’m not sure it is enough. We will have to see what the Gray Plane takes.”
Varick required a nights rest before the ritual could begin. Will paced a bit, got some rest, then tried to study one of his new spells. Though he managed to commit it to memory, his heart was not really in it. All he could think about was Marcus laying dead on the bed near him. He remembered growing up with Marcus. He remembered all the family outings, the huge lavish parties his parents threw, and the major festivals that the two had gone to together, always managing to get in some sort of trouble. It was their first adventures really. Now he was dead… and none of Will’s powerful magics could do a thing about it.
Finally Varick began the ritual. The large diamond disappeared first, then the smaller diamonds that Varick had disappeared. Will feared his entire supply would be used up, and still it might not be enough. His pouch of diamond dust lay open, and as Varick continued to chant the small bits of diamond began to glow. The top of the pile disappeared first, then slowly more and more of the pile was eaten away. Will closed his eyes, holding his breath.
Varick stopped chanting. Will snapped his eyes open and turned to look at Marcus. His face was whole again, and some of the color had returned. It had worked.
Finally Will looked down at the diamond dust. Most of it was gone. But a small pile remained. He would be able to cast a few stoneskins still, but not too many. Hopefully he would have the opportunity to replace his supply soon, as he knew he would need it before this adventure was done.
Wraithdrit
First Post
Marcus took a few minutes to get himself back on his feet, and the group assembled to discuss what they would do next. It was quickly decided that another day would be well spent resting here. It was a defensible position, and the group had plenty to do before moving on. Marcus was still very weak, and the combination of bringing him back from the dead and healing him up had drained a large portion of Varick’s spell power. That combined with Will’s desire to learn a few of the extra spells he had collected, made for an easy decision to stay put for a while.
After all they had plenty of time to make it to the drow city and stop whatever was going on. Didn’t they?
The next day they broke camp, which consisted mainly of a magical hut that Varick summoned for them to rest in, and made their way further into the depths of the Underdark. A long day of travel neared its end when Delorian returned to the group. He warned them that the passage opened up ahead, and he thought he could hear deep rumbling laughter in the cavern beyond. Whatever it was had a deep laugh, and sounded fairly large.
The group assembled near the opening, and Delorian proceeded in, shadows completely shielding him from sight. What they had found was a lair of some giants. A pair of them guarded the entrance and the exit to the cavern. The exit was a sandy beach that dropped off into a massive dark lake. They had found the Lake of Shadows at last. Above the giants cavern, a hole led to more caverns, and it was from up there that Delorian was hearing the laughter.
Finally he returned to the group and reported what he had found. The group discussed it a few moments and decided to try to talk to the giant guards.
Malaghym decided discretion about his heritage was probably best, so he stayed back out of sight as Varick called down to the giants. “Hello! We wish passage to the lake.”
A few moments passed, and the sound of one of the massive giants rushing off down the cavern could be heard. Just the remaining giant stuck his head around the corner and looked down the passage at them. It called out in Undercommon, “Why we should let you pass?”
Will stepped forward, since he spoke the language, “We wish you no harm, and wish only to pass through without causing any harm.” He was ready if the giant should move wrong to cause plenty of harm.
“Hmmph, you may pass. But you not stay. We watch you close… no harm be done.” The giant watched them as they moved forward. When he saw the dark elf he growled, “You travel with drow. You no say you travel with drow!” The giant looked agitated, but Will quickly explained.
“We travel to the drow city. They have caused trouble for us, and we are going to go take care of it.”
“You go to harm the drow?” Will frowned. He was not really sure if he was stepping into a baited trap, or if the giant truly did not like the dark elves.
“Yes.” Honesty should serve him well here, he thought, as the giant did not seem overly intelligent, at least not such that it might try such subterfuge. “This one travels with us to aid in stopping a cult of evil drow.”
The giant nodded after thinking a moment. “You come with.” He led them to the near the hole to the upper caverns and called out something to the others, who were now all watching from the large hole above. After a few moments a better dressed, and well armed giant slid from above and approached.
He spoke in common. “Greetings small surface dwellers. I have been told you are going to cross the lake and that you go to war with the dark skinned ones.” He looked over at Malaghym, “Yet you travel with one. It is not unheard of for stonebrother to fight stonebrother, but it is not common.”
Malaghym grinned, “Drow fight each other all the time.”
The giant nodded, “Indeed. They fight over the smallest thing, like feral pigs fight for scraps of slop.”
Will cleared his throat. “We merely wish to pass through, if that is not a problem we will be on our way.”
The giant nodded, “Usually we ask for payment and ferry people across… but if you don’t need our rafts then you can go in peace.”
Marcus frowned, “What kind of payment?”
“200 of your gold pieces… per person. Or we take tasks in trade.”
Marcus quirked an eyebrow and elbowed Will. Will grunted and asked quickly, “What kind of task?”
“Right now… I would ask that the Kuo-toa in charge of the shrine be … removed. In fact, since you have your own way across, I would pay you to do this thing.”
Delorian looked at the others and then asked, “What is so special about this Kuo-toa… what did he do to you?”
The giant scowled, “His name is…. The Claw!” The giant held up his hand in the shape of pinchers and snapped his finger and thumb together in a snapping motion. “He is evil… we and the Kuo-toa have lived peacefully for many years… then The Claw and the Devil-Kraken came. The Kuo-toa worship the Kraken as a god, with The Claw as his right hand. I think the beast is nothing but a big sea monster, and The Claw nothing more than a megolomaniac.”
Marcus blinked and muttered, “Masterful command of common this giant has… megolomaniac?”
Will grinned, “Do I need to tell you what it means?” Marcus elbowed him again.
Varick finally spoke up. “We are not paid assassins. What we do, we do because we must. Hunting down this Claw fellow is not our task or our problem.”
The giant blinked, “He offers living sacrifices to the Devil-Kraken.”
Varick recondsidered quickly, “Well, why didn’t you say so?” He shrugged at the others.
They all looked around from person to person, and when no one objected Will turned to the giant and nodded, “Alright. We’ll do it.”
The giant clapped, “Wonderful! Come, come. We go feast, you can kill The Claw in the morning!”
Throne Room
Undying Temple, Maerimydra
Marpenoth 26th, 1372
Zedarr and Dorina T’sarran walked in flanked on either side by multiple Quth-Maren. Both had found themselves a few weapons and some armor. The Quth-Maren flowed in their loping step around the central figure of the room, the pair’s mother.
Zedarr dropped to one knee and bowed. Dorina just half bowed from the waist only. Their mother wave her left hand, the long magical gauntlet that encased it shone in the light. Two zombies stood to either side of her, holding massive candelabras. The zombies stood perfectly still, their muscles never protesting the strange use of their ancient elven bodies.
Dorina spoke as she straightened, “You summoned us mother?”
Her mother nodded, “Indeed, child… I have. It is time we test the resolve of the heroes that so easily defeated you.”
The gauntlets that covered Zedarr’s hands creaked as tighten them into fists. “Give me another chance at them mother, things won’t turn out the same as they did the first time.” The Blackguard’s scarred face had new scars, fresh looking burns that had stayed, despite the intense magic that had brought him back to life.
His mother shook her head, “No Zedarr. No. Not yet. Your time will come. They have reached the Lake of Shadows… just as I forsaw, they have stopped to deal with ‘The Claw’.” She chuckled gently then shook her head, “The Kuo-toa and their oversized squid will be little worry to this group. But the encounters will weaken them.” She turned and motioned toward five figures standing in the back of the room. “That’s where they come in.”
The siblings looked past their mother and saw their cousins standing in the back of the room. Flanking either side of them where a pair of officers from Szith Morcane. Between them stood a shorter figure… a halfling. All five of them had a dead gaze in their eyes. Their skin was taut over their skulls and a small pinprick of fire seemed to blaze behind each eye.
Zedarr looked back at his mother. “Revenants? But they are our cousins…”
His mother growled and lifted her gauntlet up to point at him. Black energy coursed around the dark metal. “They failed me… much as you failed me… you have uses for me now… they are nothing to me… be sure your value to me stays high, or I will do the same to you!”
Zedarr swallowed and nodded, “Of course, m’lady.”
Footsteps came from the door to the chamber. Two of the well armed and strongly built drow warriors that guarded the temple strode forward. The heads of the spear they carried seemed to drink up what little light there was in the room. The dark swathed figure that strode between them seemed to drink up the rest of the light. It mattered little to anyone in the room.
The shade nodded his head, “Lady T’sarran… thank you for seeing me.” He lifted his head, and clasped his dark hands behind his back.
Lady T’sarran turned to regard the shade, “Ambassador… your presence is a pleasure as always. What can I do for you, we haven’t seen you in days.”
The Ambassador nodded, “Forgive my absence, m’lady. There were matters at home that required my immediate attention.”
Dorina walked to the back of the room and reached down to stroke the cheek of the small feral halfling revenant. “Its so small… yet deadly. How delightful… I remember his screams as you tore his heart out brother. What was it he called himself again brother?”
Zedarr grinned, “Tanerus.”
The Ambassador strode up to small group, and reached back behind the halfling revenant. He grasped a hold of the shadows behind him and yanked hard, there was a feral scream and the halfling’s shadow came loose. It writhed in the shade’s grasp. The shade spoke the shadow in a strange ancient language that no in the room understood. The shadow seemed to slump in his grasp. Satisfied the Ambassador opened one side of his large cloak and tucked the shadow inside. He turned and smiled down at the recently resurrected former vampire head priestess of Szith Morcane and said, “We had wondered where this shadow had gotten off to… the High Prince will be most interested in talking to it, I’m sure.”
Lady T’sarran nodded, “You may have it then… so what word do you bring from the city of Shade?”
The Ambassador reached into the other side of his cloak and withdrew a scroll. “My Lord has looked over the agreement and has some counter offers on a few terms. I am sure you will find the entire package still very viable for your … operation.” He smiled darkly. “Also… he has a gift for you.”
Lady T’sarran smiled, “Oh really?” She took the scroll and set it aside, determined to read it at her convenience, she was not about to be seen as eager. “What sort of gift?”
The Ambassador pulled a small dark wooden box from his cloak. Zedarr wondered silently how many pockets the cloak had. The shade almost looked like he did not exist. The Blackguard wondered if perhaps he was nothing more than a set of hands and a head, and nothing else beneath the robe.
The box was handed to Lady T’sarran and she opened it without delay. She smiled and reached inside. She pulled out a dark gem that barely glowed with an inner light. The glow pulsed, it reminded her of a faint heartbeat. “How beautiful!” She closed her hand around it and her eyes went wide. “This is a soul gem!”
The shade smiled and nodded, “Indeed… compliments of the High Prince and one of his sons. They have no use anymore for the one whose soul it contains.”
After all they had plenty of time to make it to the drow city and stop whatever was going on. Didn’t they?
The next day they broke camp, which consisted mainly of a magical hut that Varick summoned for them to rest in, and made their way further into the depths of the Underdark. A long day of travel neared its end when Delorian returned to the group. He warned them that the passage opened up ahead, and he thought he could hear deep rumbling laughter in the cavern beyond. Whatever it was had a deep laugh, and sounded fairly large.
The group assembled near the opening, and Delorian proceeded in, shadows completely shielding him from sight. What they had found was a lair of some giants. A pair of them guarded the entrance and the exit to the cavern. The exit was a sandy beach that dropped off into a massive dark lake. They had found the Lake of Shadows at last. Above the giants cavern, a hole led to more caverns, and it was from up there that Delorian was hearing the laughter.
Finally he returned to the group and reported what he had found. The group discussed it a few moments and decided to try to talk to the giant guards.
Malaghym decided discretion about his heritage was probably best, so he stayed back out of sight as Varick called down to the giants. “Hello! We wish passage to the lake.”
A few moments passed, and the sound of one of the massive giants rushing off down the cavern could be heard. Just the remaining giant stuck his head around the corner and looked down the passage at them. It called out in Undercommon, “Why we should let you pass?”
Will stepped forward, since he spoke the language, “We wish you no harm, and wish only to pass through without causing any harm.” He was ready if the giant should move wrong to cause plenty of harm.
“Hmmph, you may pass. But you not stay. We watch you close… no harm be done.” The giant watched them as they moved forward. When he saw the dark elf he growled, “You travel with drow. You no say you travel with drow!” The giant looked agitated, but Will quickly explained.
“We travel to the drow city. They have caused trouble for us, and we are going to go take care of it.”
“You go to harm the drow?” Will frowned. He was not really sure if he was stepping into a baited trap, or if the giant truly did not like the dark elves.
“Yes.” Honesty should serve him well here, he thought, as the giant did not seem overly intelligent, at least not such that it might try such subterfuge. “This one travels with us to aid in stopping a cult of evil drow.”
The giant nodded after thinking a moment. “You come with.” He led them to the near the hole to the upper caverns and called out something to the others, who were now all watching from the large hole above. After a few moments a better dressed, and well armed giant slid from above and approached.
He spoke in common. “Greetings small surface dwellers. I have been told you are going to cross the lake and that you go to war with the dark skinned ones.” He looked over at Malaghym, “Yet you travel with one. It is not unheard of for stonebrother to fight stonebrother, but it is not common.”
Malaghym grinned, “Drow fight each other all the time.”
The giant nodded, “Indeed. They fight over the smallest thing, like feral pigs fight for scraps of slop.”
Will cleared his throat. “We merely wish to pass through, if that is not a problem we will be on our way.”
The giant nodded, “Usually we ask for payment and ferry people across… but if you don’t need our rafts then you can go in peace.”
Marcus frowned, “What kind of payment?”
“200 of your gold pieces… per person. Or we take tasks in trade.”
Marcus quirked an eyebrow and elbowed Will. Will grunted and asked quickly, “What kind of task?”
“Right now… I would ask that the Kuo-toa in charge of the shrine be … removed. In fact, since you have your own way across, I would pay you to do this thing.”
Delorian looked at the others and then asked, “What is so special about this Kuo-toa… what did he do to you?”
The giant scowled, “His name is…. The Claw!” The giant held up his hand in the shape of pinchers and snapped his finger and thumb together in a snapping motion. “He is evil… we and the Kuo-toa have lived peacefully for many years… then The Claw and the Devil-Kraken came. The Kuo-toa worship the Kraken as a god, with The Claw as his right hand. I think the beast is nothing but a big sea monster, and The Claw nothing more than a megolomaniac.”
Marcus blinked and muttered, “Masterful command of common this giant has… megolomaniac?”
Will grinned, “Do I need to tell you what it means?” Marcus elbowed him again.
Varick finally spoke up. “We are not paid assassins. What we do, we do because we must. Hunting down this Claw fellow is not our task or our problem.”
The giant blinked, “He offers living sacrifices to the Devil-Kraken.”
Varick recondsidered quickly, “Well, why didn’t you say so?” He shrugged at the others.
They all looked around from person to person, and when no one objected Will turned to the giant and nodded, “Alright. We’ll do it.”
The giant clapped, “Wonderful! Come, come. We go feast, you can kill The Claw in the morning!”
Throne Room
Undying Temple, Maerimydra
Marpenoth 26th, 1372
Zedarr and Dorina T’sarran walked in flanked on either side by multiple Quth-Maren. Both had found themselves a few weapons and some armor. The Quth-Maren flowed in their loping step around the central figure of the room, the pair’s mother.
Zedarr dropped to one knee and bowed. Dorina just half bowed from the waist only. Their mother wave her left hand, the long magical gauntlet that encased it shone in the light. Two zombies stood to either side of her, holding massive candelabras. The zombies stood perfectly still, their muscles never protesting the strange use of their ancient elven bodies.
Dorina spoke as she straightened, “You summoned us mother?”
Her mother nodded, “Indeed, child… I have. It is time we test the resolve of the heroes that so easily defeated you.”
The gauntlets that covered Zedarr’s hands creaked as tighten them into fists. “Give me another chance at them mother, things won’t turn out the same as they did the first time.” The Blackguard’s scarred face had new scars, fresh looking burns that had stayed, despite the intense magic that had brought him back to life.
His mother shook her head, “No Zedarr. No. Not yet. Your time will come. They have reached the Lake of Shadows… just as I forsaw, they have stopped to deal with ‘The Claw’.” She chuckled gently then shook her head, “The Kuo-toa and their oversized squid will be little worry to this group. But the encounters will weaken them.” She turned and motioned toward five figures standing in the back of the room. “That’s where they come in.”
The siblings looked past their mother and saw their cousins standing in the back of the room. Flanking either side of them where a pair of officers from Szith Morcane. Between them stood a shorter figure… a halfling. All five of them had a dead gaze in their eyes. Their skin was taut over their skulls and a small pinprick of fire seemed to blaze behind each eye.
Zedarr looked back at his mother. “Revenants? But they are our cousins…”
His mother growled and lifted her gauntlet up to point at him. Black energy coursed around the dark metal. “They failed me… much as you failed me… you have uses for me now… they are nothing to me… be sure your value to me stays high, or I will do the same to you!”
Zedarr swallowed and nodded, “Of course, m’lady.”
Footsteps came from the door to the chamber. Two of the well armed and strongly built drow warriors that guarded the temple strode forward. The heads of the spear they carried seemed to drink up what little light there was in the room. The dark swathed figure that strode between them seemed to drink up the rest of the light. It mattered little to anyone in the room.
The shade nodded his head, “Lady T’sarran… thank you for seeing me.” He lifted his head, and clasped his dark hands behind his back.
Lady T’sarran turned to regard the shade, “Ambassador… your presence is a pleasure as always. What can I do for you, we haven’t seen you in days.”
The Ambassador nodded, “Forgive my absence, m’lady. There were matters at home that required my immediate attention.”
Dorina walked to the back of the room and reached down to stroke the cheek of the small feral halfling revenant. “Its so small… yet deadly. How delightful… I remember his screams as you tore his heart out brother. What was it he called himself again brother?”
Zedarr grinned, “Tanerus.”
The Ambassador strode up to small group, and reached back behind the halfling revenant. He grasped a hold of the shadows behind him and yanked hard, there was a feral scream and the halfling’s shadow came loose. It writhed in the shade’s grasp. The shade spoke the shadow in a strange ancient language that no in the room understood. The shadow seemed to slump in his grasp. Satisfied the Ambassador opened one side of his large cloak and tucked the shadow inside. He turned and smiled down at the recently resurrected former vampire head priestess of Szith Morcane and said, “We had wondered where this shadow had gotten off to… the High Prince will be most interested in talking to it, I’m sure.”
Lady T’sarran nodded, “You may have it then… so what word do you bring from the city of Shade?”
The Ambassador reached into the other side of his cloak and withdrew a scroll. “My Lord has looked over the agreement and has some counter offers on a few terms. I am sure you will find the entire package still very viable for your … operation.” He smiled darkly. “Also… he has a gift for you.”
Lady T’sarran smiled, “Oh really?” She took the scroll and set it aside, determined to read it at her convenience, she was not about to be seen as eager. “What sort of gift?”
The Ambassador pulled a small dark wooden box from his cloak. Zedarr wondered silently how many pockets the cloak had. The shade almost looked like he did not exist. The Blackguard wondered if perhaps he was nothing more than a set of hands and a head, and nothing else beneath the robe.
The box was handed to Lady T’sarran and she opened it without delay. She smiled and reached inside. She pulled out a dark gem that barely glowed with an inner light. The glow pulsed, it reminded her of a faint heartbeat. “How beautiful!” She closed her hand around it and her eyes went wide. “This is a soul gem!”
The shade smiled and nodded, “Indeed… compliments of the High Prince and one of his sons. They have no use anymore for the one whose soul it contains.”
Similar Threads
