The Legacy of Heroes | Adventure Log

The Legacy of Heroes - Epilogue

Work in progress

Slowly, the mysterious mists parted and the Legacy found themselves transported across a realm, home in Greyhawk again after so many months. Though they were relieved to have returned, it was far from a joyous occasion. The still bodies of Barth Steelshaper and Cerulean Black A.K.A. Grum were a stern reminder of the price they had paid to defeat the ancient enemy, K’rzzt whose spirit now lay trapped within an enchanted phylactery, in eternal battle with the Legacy’s mentor Zemilay Lyks. Rather than celebrating the defeat of the enemy who had vexed both them and their parents, the members of the Legacy offered each other muted congratulations and warm regards before departing, ready to attend to duties left neglected in their absence. Lyssa mustered what feelings she could, still stunned from what had just transpired. They barely had time to breathe before the swirling haze took them away, the laudations of the victorious armies naming their saviors, “Three cheers for the Heroes of the Mists..hu, hu, hurrah!”

Tom wasted no time in ushering the body of his brother to the Thieves Guild, Grum was owed favors by powerful men and the bard was able to secure an audience with guildleader, Thurman Dietrien. The master thief seemed willing to front the expense to have his former apprentice raised but would demand certain favors of Tom. The bard considered his proposal, then offered to sing the tale of his brother’s sacrifice; in order that Thurman better understand what had transpired in Kellagha. Expertly, the silver fingers of Fil’ka’nah swept across Tom’s drum, creating a deep, rumbling beat that seemed impossible from an instrument of its size. The bard’s rich, baritone voice painted the picture of battlefields, thronged with man and beast, in a distant and hidden realm; the fingers’ charms working all the while. Dietrien, confident that his half elven blood protected him from such simple magicks, was completely unaware that he had been ensorcelled by Tom’s florid retelling of the final clash. At the conclusion of the bard’s epic aria it was decided, Grum would be ushered to the church of Istus to be restored; no boon required.

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APR/2016

Come Full Circle

WORK IN PROGRESS…

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APR/2016

Unearthed

WORK IN PROGRESS…

The earth opened and from it swirled a vortex of earth, rock, and grass. As the dirt settled, the party from Greyhawk stood together, fronted by the Geomancer, Laterius. In the distance was the kingdom of Yggsburgh, surrounded by channels of water and walled from the rest of the Kellaghan wilderness.

The peculiarly well-dressed Geomancer turned to Vetnik and revealed in his hand a small stone medallion with strange crystallized patterns covering its surface.
“When the march on Morgoth begins, knock this stone against the earth three times and I shall appear.”
“Thank you, stranger,” Vetnik said, taking the stone with a gracious warrior’s bow. Laterius nodded his head respectfully before, in an instant, his body burst into a tall column of dirt that was just as quickly carried off by a gentle afternoon breeze.

The path to Yggsburgh was narrow and quiet, with a small outpost set up to assist travelers to the city. It was Abigail who took note of the last carriages into town, and noting their collective exhaustion, took it upon herself to book it for the team. The party split in two, with Vetnik, Moira, and the Twins in one carriage. Once alone, Moira kept up a brave face in front of the others and let the hope for her brother’s life keep her calm. In the other carriage, Abigail joined both Lyssa and Trisoll – as well as an apathetic Grunt. She revealed that her co-operatives would be waiting at her childhood home along with her mother. The others were typically mum and withdrawn, but Lyssa showed a curious (though almost fleeting) interest in Abigail’s history. She revealed that her mother was a patient woman, who dealt with life as a single mother the best she could, despite all of her daughter’s efforts to fight it. Abigail continued to reminisce and told the others of her own troubled past which began as an overly aggressive and belligerent young girl whose tendencies towards hotheaded violence sent her on an even more destructive path.
“How destructive?” Lyssa inquired.
“I sold myself with those who dwelled in the city’s underbelly, taking contracts. At first, I was just strongarming and shaking down where I could. It didn’t take long for my employers to exploit my strength, and eventually I was taking lives for the highest bidder. It was only thanks to the pleading of my mother and finding the light of my life, Maja, that I found a better way.”
Underwhelmed, Lyssa replied. “That was it? Hmph.”

The party entered into Yggsburgh with ease, and Abigail quickly led them through her old stomping grounds towards her home. Occasionally, she pointed out different smiths and craftsmen who might be able to aid them while they gathered themselves before going into battle. It wasn’t long before they made it to Abigail’s home, which was located in a cluster of apartment buildings and relatively windowless. As she opened the door, the apartment seemed noticeably quiet. Especially given that not only her mother, but also her trusted companions were to be waiting for their arrival. The party gathered together in the long, dim corridor leading towards the center parlor of her home, when suddenly, a series of magic mouths began to burst open along the walls. Each of them seemed to possess a different yet familiar voice but all of them carried with it the same message: terror. The walls nonsensically cried out for mercy, screaming and hollering as if the walls themselves were enduring unimaginable brutal acts. Abigail called out to her friends and her mother. “Where are you? I’m here, it’s Abigail! Where—“

As she sprinted past the shrieking mouths, she stopped at the end and saw the shimmering silhouette of two figures. Both were well known to her. The first was the Drow himself, Kr’zzt, his hooded cloak and blackened, web-patterned armor coated in fresh blood. In front of him, on her knees, was Abigail’s mother, her spine rigid and straight as he cupped her jaw in one hand and held an ornate dagger against her throat with the other.
“Mother!”
The projection began to speak and as it did, the arcane bodies glicthed and fickered.
“This is no longer a warning. You will not stand against us, but fall beneath us. I have already taken your men.”
Abigail’s stern demeanor shattered before the others. She feebly pleaded with the Drow to unhand her, all while the screams of her companions echoed throughout the home.
The phantasm was a recording, and she knew deep down that her pleas would be in vain. Kr’zzt continued, “I have taken your mother. It is only a matter of time before I take you as well.”
Abigail helplessly watched as Kr’zzt took the dagger across her mother’s wiry neck. Her body convulsed as she watched the crimson seep from the neck wound her mother now struggled to reach for. Abigail scrambled towards the parlor, where the projection of her mother laid chest down on the floor, gripping at its throat. “No, no, no, no, no!”
Kr’zzt raised his dagger and pointed it at the party and continued. “And let this serve as a warning for not only you, but your sister, the witch, as well. Your mother will meet a similar fate should any of you continue!”
The phantasm vanished in a blink of cyan energy, leaving Abigail trembling on the floor. She slowly turned her head round to see Lyssa now at the front of the party, her eyes seething with wild magic.

Without missing a beat, the four closed doors surrounding the parlor burst open and each emptied with a large figure shrouded in black robes and hoods. In their wrapped hands, they charged with glass short swords. Lyssa lined up a trio of them and focused all her rage on a single spell. The rage seemed to cloud her head too much, and to those around her, nothing seemed to happen. That is, until, the first assassin rushed the party and before reaching them, seemed to crash full speed into some unseen barrier. So hard, in fact, that he fell prone to the ground. Just as the assassin fell, Grum fired an arrow at the assassins and watched as the arrow bounced off the invisible barrier surrounding them. As the arrow collided though, he noticed the slight flicker of red wild magic. Thom stood back and began to drum for the party as Grunt took up Hank and fired off a test arrow into whatever kept the two warring parties at bay. The white energy of the arrow crashed against the barrier and seemed to be consumed by the brief flash of red chaos magic before disappearing.
“No!” Lyssa hissed before creating a small arcane rift around her, which put her behind the assassins on the other side of what she could see: a wild wall of force. The other members of the party looked around but could do little, as they remained trapped in the hall. With no other escape option, Vetnik and Grum began to kick at the thin wooden walls surrounding them with hopes of creating a tunnel into the parlor. Meanwhile, Lyssa began her face-off against the masked creatures, whose bulky bodies seemed to possess a strange gait that was hard to discern. Before they could attack, Lyssa raised her hand and released a line of roaring fire that coated the creatures, but wasn’t enough to fell them.

+++++++++++++

The party broke through the walls and managed to enter the house through the walls, slaying the assassins. They were revealed to be dark Geldan, agents of Kr’zzt.

Lyssa finally reveals after pressure from Abigail that she is in fact her half-sister, and promises that she will do everything in her power to avenge her mother.

The party splits in two. Lyssa stays behind at Abigail’s home where use cloaks herself from detection and uses the Eye of Modius in an attempt to contact their father. She’s unable to receive an answer but does receive a boon (teleport without error spell), and leaves Modius a message, “You owe the both of us now.”

Meanwhile, Trisoll used his speak with dead ability to tap into the mind of the slain Dark Geldan. While most answers were vague, he did glean that the best way into the Kr’zzt’s encampment was from beneath the black ice of Morgoth.

The rest of the party visited the town’s mayor, a half orc who granted them access to their potioners and weaponsmiths, as well as promised them her armies to aid in battle. They pulled their funds together and received the following items:

Oil of High Conquering (+2 to THAC0 to applied weapon) 3600gp
Potion of Black Dragon Breath 2800gp
Oil of Carnation (cures all non-magical diseases, immune to all forms of disease for 24 hrs) 900gp
Portion of Storm Giant Strength 2800gp
Liquid of Metal Fatigue (4 ap, causes metal to rust in 1d4 rounds, save v disintegration) 2400gp

The party regrouped and Vetnik contacted Laterius in order to transport.

+++++++++++++

On the outskirts of the barren, black wastes known as Morgoth, the party stood together with Laterius once more. Cresting over the icy horizon, plumes of dark smoke cut through the otherwise dull cement sky. The landscape was dismal and monochrome, only interrupted by briefs glimpses of blood red banners bearing the symbol of the Circle of Bones. Others were charcoal and bore a single X on them while the last few were more ornate in nature, built from the silken bulk of the giant spider. Those shredded banners flew highest and flapped in the wind, their web strands creating an almost specter-like effect over the battlefield. There was no music, only the sound of the various evils moving across thick black ice. Evils of all shape, size, and nature: from the combined armies of the Sun and Moon Elves; the orcs, ogres and giants wielding crude and massive weapons; the giant spiders and druegar; and finally, flanking the hordes, two dragons. More massive than any creature the party had ever come across in their adventures. One was slick and black, like a living shadow, while the other was more familiar to them. It was a massive blue dragon, whose throat seamed to glow from within with searing electricity.

Vetnik and Moira took each other’s hand for one last time before drawing their weapons. They turned to each other and for a moment, took in every last detail of each other’s face. Grum and Thom stretched their limbs, readied their weapons, and in a feat of twinness, cocked their heads at the same time. As Grunt began to gather the arcane energy used to wield Hank, Trisoll turned to Lyssa with a mix of helplessness and excitement.
“This is it!” Trisoll said, his adrenaline going and his breath heavy. “Everyone, listen, if we don’t make it back together, I just want you guys to know—“
“Save it,” Lyssa interrupted as she drew a small glass orb from her satchel. Inside the bottle, the dusty, cloudy blue liquid occasionally seemed to flicker with small bursts of light. She downed the strange potion and tossed the bottle over her shoulder. Her once glowing red eyes suddenly changed to electric blue. “Just save me that Blue Dragon.”

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MAR/2016

Meanwhile...

Greyhawk

Zemilay Lyks rose from his bed, "They're on their own now", he thought. The aged druid had no intention of staying on the wayside during the children's sojourn however and after donning a delicate pair of reading glasses, prepared a list of contacts he would intend to approach in his quest to aid the Legacy. As he made his way downstairs, a complex array of delicious odors overtook his senses. George had stepped back the intricacy of his meals after his body began to rapidly age without his deceased lover's magicks to support him, so surely, someone else had to be in his kitchen. To his surprise however, the grand and sumptuous feast that lay waiting for him had in fact been concocted by his faithful manservant. "Good morning sir, it's good to see you", George declared with a rasp to his voice that spoke to his present physical condition. Zemilay returned the greeting and commented glowingly on the lavish meal that lay before him. "With the children gone, I thought it might be nice to do something special for you..", George spoke before his works became broken by a fit of coughing. "Sit down George", the druid demanded. "No,no, no, the tea is still on the stove", George said irritably as he shuffled towards the kitchen, "Don't make me fight you". The words were spoken with an upward curl to his lip, the smile betraying his jest. He returned shortly clasping the expertly engraved teapot that Zemilay's absent wife, Xanti, had purchased for their fifth wedding anniversary. "Where is Burbis?, inquired the servant. "He'll be here in a moment, just please sit down", the druid asked pleadingly. George grunted and groaned as he slowly shifted down into his seat. After taking a moment to fix a cup of tea, George asked "How are you doing with them gone?" "It's been difficult but it has also made me realize how much I need to do." the druid replied. "To that end, I'm going to be bringing in someone to help around the house." "No, no, no, we've had this discussion before", retorted George. "Absolutely not". Zemilay interrupted him, "George, you are my longest friend here are you not, and you know how much I care about you, you are my family and you need to let me take care of you as you have taken care of me for so many years." The housekeep seemed incensed, "Sir, it is my place to say when I'm no longer able, this is my charge." "How would you like it if the Grand Druid came to you and told you it was time to quit?" "We'll have someone take your place and you just sit back and watch as they perform your duties", George intoned as a surrogate for the Great Druid. Zemilay considered this for a moment. "I would laugh and say that I had become quite the senile old man", he replied. "I am not senile", George protested. "I know this", the druid replied, "you are a valuable ally and I still need you here." "This person would take just a small fragment of your duties." After considering this for a moment, George replied, "I would like to meet this person first." Zemilay assented, saying that he would of course allow his request. "I'm sorry to be so difficult in my old age", the servant shifted his gaze away from his master, "I know I haven't been the same since Mellsandre has been gone." The mention of George's slain lover let Lyks know that the wound still ran deep. The aged druid, feeling responsible for her untimely death, whispered, "I'm sorry, it was my fault." "It's not. I've never blamed you, sir", George said in reply. Before he could continue, Zemilay interrupted, "All of this is my fault and it's up to me to make it right." "Fate is fate", retorted George., "I follow Lady Istus, I believe that to be true." Lyks seemed surprised, "George, you've never spoken of your religion before", he noticed. "Ah", George snorted, "religion and politics are best left from the dinner table sir." "I am an employee, my beliefs are of no importance, only my ability to serve matters." Zemilay took issue with that and said gently, "George, you are my family, my friend and my ally" He took a pause before continuing, "Do you remember the old days, when everyone was here, Drayden and the others?" "You made this house a home and that is why your name is upon it." George seemed bowled over by the sentiment, "I thank you sir" He paused a moment before exclaiming, "It does seem empty these days doesn't it?"

The thought hung in the air for a moment before the silence was broken by bounding footsteps coming down the stairs. Burbis Baggleton hurriedly made his way down the winding staircase, "Heyguyswhat'supwhydoeseveronelooksosad?" he asked. "Lookatallthisfoodhowcouldanyonebesosadwithallthisfoodhere?, the gnome seemed overwhelmed by the display. "WowGeorgethisisalotbetterthanitsbeen…" Suddenly, Lyks cuts off his companion, "Don't say that Burbis, this is a wonderful display and I'm very appreciative of all the work that George put into this." After scratching his eyebrow ever so briefly, Burbis replied, "Noit'snotthatIdontappreciateitit'sjustsomuchitslikewaytoomuch." A wry smile crept upon the face of the now feeble manservant, "Help yourself Master Burbis", he instructed as he drew out the gnome's undersized chair. The presence of such unbound enthusiasm served quite well to lighten the mood and as the little man chattered on, the two masters of the house finally found the will to relax. George Pimpleton took a moment before speaking to Zemilay in a low tone, "Thank you Master Lyks, if I could just meet with the candidate first?" "You're welcome George and of course," the druid replied. The three men then settled down at the table and made their best work of the expansive feast, drinking well into the evening.

Some days later, Zemilay sought out another on his list of potential allies, the husband of his lost and most treasured companion and father to Moira and Barth, the cavalier Vortis. Finding himself at the retired knight's door, he rapped upon it with leather clad knuckles. "Go away!" came the sharp reply from inside. Sensing this would be his greeting, the druid spoke loudly, "It's Zemilay." Some rumbling was heard from behind the door before it swung open, "Zemilay, good to see you." The cavalier had seen better days. Since his retirement from the city guard's training facility, he seemed diminished, even purposeless. This dark gloom was pushed away for a moment however as he greeted his old friend. Lyks passed a bottle of wine to the old soldier, which was received with appreciation. "I could use this, my knees aren't what they used to be." Vortis groaned as he settled into his chair and Lyks, sensing an opportunity, suggested that perhaps his friend could use some help around the house. This was, of course, waved off with a scoff. "I prefer the solitude and I need to stay busy," he said before his countenance softened, "I can't be allowed time to get lost in my own thoughts, it's too painful." The druid considered this, "You need a hobby to keep yourself busy," he implored. "I have a hobby, I still sharpen my swords and practice what forms I'm able," Vortis retorted. After Zemilay observed that it was obvious that he kept up with his martial studies, the cavalier said with a snort, "This tunic hides much my friend, old age is creeping up on me faster than I'd like to admit but..", he paused and looked skyward, "if it means I get to see my dear husband again, so be it." Vortis then turned to Lyks with a stern look upon his face, making direct eye contact, he swore, "I'll tell you what though, this old goat isn't going anywhere until I see my son and daughter come home…and your son…and the sons and daughter of our friends." A discussion of Vortis' departed husband then dominated the room, with both men regretting not doing more to dissuade Drayden from his quixotic quest to find and save the corrupted son of the two warriors. Turning to the plight of the children, Zemilay let his plans to find and aid the children be known. The cavalier seemed incensed by the idea, insisting that they had sent the children on the task because they found them capable. Lyks insisted that the blame for the entire situation was his and that had Kr'zzt been properly stopped, he could have his family back instead of having his lovely wife, Xanti, living in exile while his son was off in a strange land to confront an enemy, their enemy, who has only grown more powerful in his torpor. Moved by his friend's emotional plea, the warrior stood from his chair and made way to his children's quarters, gathering mementos of importance to the twins and in a surprise gesture, granted to Zemilay the first sword of their departed companion, a blade forged by the Steelshaper patriarch long before he was brutally murdered by the eternal enemy, K'rzzt. "I want you to find someone worthy to wield this blade," Vortis asked of his friend. Zemilay balked at the idea of taking such a treasured memory but the retired soldier insisted that Drayden would have wanted it in the hands of a capable warrior. Lyks accepted the gift before apologizing for being a foolish old man. "There's nothing but foolish old men in the world." replied the cavalier. "We think we can be ourselves forever…" The thought hung in the air for a moment before the druid spoke, "Forever is never long enough." The two shared a brief warriors embrace before Zemilay asked of Vortis an oath swearing that if he did not come back from his sojourn, that the cavalier would watch over his son, Trisoll. Vortis replied that if they did this right, the whole Lyks family would stand reunited. With a crooked smile upon his face, Zemilay Lyks opened the door and stepped out into the night.

A fortnight passed before Lyks sought out the next of his past companions, the mechanical man imbued with a soul of warmth and joy, Tic-Toc Individual at his place of employment, the cabaret belonging to Lady Silhouette, Friendly Strangers. In the daytime Friendly Strangers was filled mostly with tourists, not the hard drinking, boisterously rejoicing locals who populated the place at night. Tic-Toc was just finishing up introducing the last act of the night, a jester named Obligon, when he spied his friend enter the room from the back. Suddenly, the mechanical man's introduction grew more bold and he began to punctuate his sentences with flourishes from his twin rapiers. The visitors to Greyhawk ooohed and ahhhed with each thrust of the blade and Tic-Toc, ever the consummate professional, whipped the audience into a veritable frenzy. After sufficiently stoking the viewers' interests, he exited the stage with a full somersault forward flip before making his way to the back of the room. The two old friends greeted each other warmly, a firm embrace enveloping them both. "You're just as nimble and dexterous as you were when I was a young man", the druid volunteered. Tic-toc's wondrous and robotic visage, infused with true human feeling, smiled warmly before quipping, "Well, I do have the benefit of these mechanical limbs." Lyks then revealed his reason for visiting: the eternal enemy had returned. A look of fear washed over Tic-Toc's golden face, "The last time we faced him….I…died." Zemilay comforted his friend, reminding Tic of the failsafe within him that would not allow Kr'zzt to possess him again and that the aging ranger was gathering other friends and allies in his quest to bring the drow sorcerer to justice. Tic-Toc considered his friend's proposal before softly speaking, "I had Drayden tell me what happened, you know?" He paused for a moment before continuing, "Kr'zzt is a monster." The druid reassured the man he helped rescue from a dungeon in a different realm and welcomed Tic's forceful pledge of assistance. Tic-Toc then looked hurriedly at the stage and quickly excused himself before bolting to the front of the theater. He took to the boards and launched into his closing speech, punctuated as always with a call for glasses to be raised to Modius, Reizhodd, Ix, Lyks, Jor-Mak, Drayden, Vortis, Isrygrad, Dablova, and Madryk along with a wish to deliver the soul of Ba’th Moara to Cortox upon her passing. Lyks bowed his head in respect to all before making his way into the warm afternoon sun.

Some time later, Zemilay made another important visitation. The Church of Cortox were to play an important role in helping him achieve his aims and in order to facilitate this, a visit to the present head of the church, Gemmen, was next on his list. Lyks found himself greeted by a one legged woman with short cropped blond hair. After introducing himself, he noticed that the young woman began to stammer. "There, there girl. I'm just an old man." he said. He was used to this around the church, his association with the reconstitution of their god generally brought awed looks. "No, no sir", the girl interrupted. "Are you the father of Trisoll Lyks?" her eyes began to well with tears. "Yes, you know my boy?" Lyks asked. The girl then tells Zemilay a tale of heroism. Apparently his son and his companions saved this young woman and her friend from certain death. She is Aulis Grainkeeper and when Trisoll and the other children came upon her she was quite literally being eaten by an ogre. She lost her leg to the monster's hunger but she owed her life, and the life of her friend, to the ranger's son. Sobbing, she was embraced by the old druid until she regained her poise. Aulis then began escorting Lyks to Gemmen's chamber. Their progress was halted by the presence of a dark haired halfling woman however. Aulis called out to her, "Geria! This is Zemilay Lyks…father of Trisoll Lyks!" The halfling ran up to the elder ranger. "Is it true, is it true? Are you his father?" Zemilay replied that yes, he was in fact Trisoll's father. "You should be so proud of your son, he saved my and Aulis' lives." Geria exclaimed. She looked down at her tiny feet before concluding, "We were prisoners." Lyks shook her hand and thanked her for the kind words while Aulis left to see if Gemmen was available. The one legged priestess returned shortly and invited Zemilay to continue on to the head priest's chamber. Lyks entered the grand chamber and planetarium to find Gemmen seated at his desk. The priest's colossal observation glass rotated slowly behind him, scanning deepspace for threats and anomalies. Gemmen stood as the druid entered the room, "Greetings Zemilay Lyks, it is good to see you, though I fear your presence portends something." The two spoke of Trisoll and the other children's actions and how they had brought several converts to the church, Moira's dilemma of faith, and Gemmen's attendant, Norrin. Norrin was barely recognizable to Zemilay for the last time he had seen him, Norrin was a mere lad. A lad who happened to have brought home the sword Starshine, the blade of his fallen friend and companion Drayden Steelshaper. The boy was now a man, he stood tall in his well shined plate armor but spared not a second to bow to Lyks as he stepped into the chamber. Zemilay assured the paladin that such formalities were unnecessary despite Norrin's need to show reverence. Lyks again thanked Norrin for his tenacity as a boy while the two recounted Drayden's bravery and sacrifice. The druid then returned his attention to the head priest of the Church of Cortox and explained his reason for visiting. Gemmen seemed skeptical as Kr'zzt hadn't been heard from in quite some time and was reported to be destroyed. The aged ranger explains that though the enemy's body has been incinerated, his spirit has escaped and found new form elsewhere. He explains that Kr'zzt lays in wait for the church's most decorated paladin Moira, the acolytes that accompany her, and the other children of the Champions of the Stars. Very deliberately, he appeals to the elder cleric, saying that the church has the best way to transport a number of men to the other side of the world. When Gemmen once again appears doubtful, Zemilay asks him to have his acolytes commune with Cortox before he makes a final decision. The sovereign curate tells the druid that there is some madness in what he speaks and that if it were anyone but he asking, he would refuse the request but he assents to an augury before passing final judgement. Gemmen assures Zemilay a reply within a fortnight. Before departing, Lyks bestows upon the church a fragment of the robe of Reizhodd as well as similar swatch of clothing formerly belonging to the other of the church's minor powers, Modius. The head priest is stunned by the gifts and assures Zemilay that barring a straight no from the spiritual inquiry, an airship will be his to use in his endeavor. Norrin, hands shaking, takes the holy relics to be properly interred as Gemmen and Zemilay conclude their business. Satisfied that he will have the outcome he desires, Lyks takes his leave from the church. Fourteen days later, his answer arrives. Cortox's blessing has been received.

A quick diversion to the bazaar with Burbis proves fruitful in two ways. The pair first visit Malvar's potions where Burbis attempts to open negotiations with the notoriously prickly owner. After rebuffing the chattering gnome, Malvar turns his attentions to Zemilay. A number of common and uncommon potions are purchased but an inquiry about special stock reveals two items that Lyks immediately purchases; a potion of regeneration and a potion of spelljamming. Later on the pair stop at the table of Galbeth Goldstacker, the "mad gnome" of the bazaar. Though Galbeth has a number of items, only one immediately appeals to the druid, a ring that fires bolts of magical energy. A price is haggled out and paid in full. On the way out Burbis remarks to Zemilay, "I don't like that guy, there's something strange for a gnome about him." "He doesn't seem happy." Lyks interjected, "Maybe he had a bad life?" Burbis brushed off the suggestion, shaking his head. "Gnomes have great lives!" he boasted. Zemilay narrowed his eyes and furrowed his brow slightly. "Maybe he's not a gnome at all?" he queried. Burbis pondered the thought for a moment before looking up at the druid wide eyed. "Whoaaaa….you just blew my mind boss." he answered in a puzzled and raspy tone. Satisfied with himself, Lyks stood up straight, smirked a little, and carried on his way.

Several days later Lyks sought to acquire the assistance of the Mage's Guild, presently fronted by Lyssa's tutor, Ebeviria Yzmari but found that the guild was entertaining no visitors. He left a note asking for an audience with her and went about to more important business. Back at home, Zemilay prepared his rituals most carefully. If he were to successfully contact his ascended friends, Reizhodd, Modius and Jor-Mak, he would need to make sure that no detail went overlooked. He decided that Modius would be his first attempt and using a small personal possession of the wizard's as an anchor, reached out into the void with his mind. The attempt proved fruitless however and Lyks turned his attention towards his other lost companion, the priest Reizhodd. Again he finds himself thwarted by fate and circumstance, the appeal fails. Vowing that his last contact not fail, the druid quickly filters through his items collected from his past as an adventurer and pulls out a yak's horn, clipped at the end and polished. Lyks takes off the ornate cap at the top of the horn and a yellowed parchment slides out, a scroll of plane shift, perfect for taking Zemilay to where he thinks he has the best chance of contact with the celestial high ogre, the Astral Plane. Lyks carefully intones the spell and finds his spirit slipping away from his material form while the world fades away, leaving him in a misty and immaterial realm. No stranger to the Astral Plane, Zemilay begins his search by casting a spell of thought broadcast. Within a few minutes a stirring contact is felt. "Lyks?" asks the formless voice. In the blink of a hummingbird's eye he is there, Jor-Mak, the high ogre demi god son of Cortox. After a tearful and boisterous reunion, Zemilay spares no time in bringing up his need for contacting him. He assumes that the demi god knows the situation by means of mind reading but Jor-Mak informs him that he would never violate his thoughts without permission. That permission is granted and Jor-Mak furrows his brow and knows in an instant. "He has returned." the ogre thinks. Lyks turned to his friend, "Will you help me?" "He needs to be defeated and I feel as though I'm not powerful enough anymore." It seemed a rare admission of weakness from the druid and Jor-Mak sought to comfort him. "I do not sense him on the astral plane." he thought. Zemilay looked frustrated, "He's not here, he's reconstituted himself elsewhere." Before he could finish his thought, Jor-Mak took his hand and the pair moved at the speed of thought away from the astral plane before finally settling on lush, green hills. The druid questioned what had just transpired and Jor-Mak explains that some natural predators of the plane had begun stalking them and that they now find themselves in the relative safety of the Elysian Fields, one of the many extra planar resting places for the hallowed dead. "Given your upbringing, I thought this might comfort you." Jor-Mak thinks before continuing, "And we will face no threats here." Zemilay then allows the demi god to pry further into his mind, revealing Kr'zzt's gambit when the drow perished. Retreating through the astral plane to the safety of a magic jar had saved Kr'zzt's hide the first time but Jor-Mak vows it will not happen a second time. He tells Lyks that he can prevent Kr'zzt's spirit from entering the plane but will also need to expend his strength to prevent the dark elf from gating in any further assistance and therefore, would have to concentrate his power fully in that way, preventing any further support. He warns Zemilay that Kr'zzt's soul would be unbound and reminds him of what happened when Tic-Toc's mechanical form found itself housing the drow's wretched spirit. Lyks replies that he is aware of the risk and is prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice and will attempt to bind Kr'zzt to himself. Jor-Mak rejects this notion but the withered ranger insists it is his place to make it right and that the fault lies in his failures. The demi god places his hand upon his friend's head and in a moment Lyks knows it is not truly his fault that Kr'zzt exists to menace the children. He knows this yes, but he chooses to believe otherwise.

After some mutual soul searching, Jor-Mak reaffirms his commitment to the cause and waxes nostalgic for the "old days of Greyhawk" and the Widow Rohl and how she had taught him the virtue of patience. Zemilay tells his friend that he visits the Widow's grave regularly and that he thinks of him often as well. The two share a tender moment and embrace. "You're a good man Zemilay Lyks, let me take you home." Jor-Mak thinks softly as the two are once again transported instantaneously, this time to Greyhawk. The bustle of the street came as a shock coming from the peace of Elysium and Jor-Mak psychically remarked, "Greyhawk, I haven't seen you since I left, nothing has changed and yet much has changed." The druid agreed, speaking of George's rapid aging and his wife, Xanti's situation, finding herself exiled and unreachable in order to protect her from Kr'zzt's agents. Jor-Mak infoms Zemilay that he can see in his mind's eye that she is safe. Joy wells up in the old half-elf's eyes and he asks of his friend, "Will you tell her I love her?" The demi god smiles and offers outstretched arms, "Take my hands and tell her yourself." Lyks's eyes fill with tears and he begs his friend not to do this, that she's at too much risk if they see each other. The high ogre's golden eyes open wide as he looks upon his friend, "I am more powerful than Kr'zzt," he thought with absolute confidence, "Now take my hand." The pair are hurtled through the astral plane before their astral projections settle upon a simple farmhouse hidden away in a lost grove of trees. The contact is instant. "Z..Zemilay is, is that you?" The emotion is too much to bear for the couple and the tears come easily. "How is this happening?" wonders Xanti. Her husband swells with affection when he replies that Jor-Mak is making this possible while she remarks upon his ever giving soul. Xanti then asks about their son and with deserved pride, he tells her what a good man and great hero he's become and recounts the tale of Aulis and Geria. "We did well, didn't we?" the aging but still beautiful fortuneteller mused. Lyks assured his wife that they would soon be together again and that this memory would be most treasured until the pair were reunited. Xanti tells Zemilay that her every dream will be filled with thoughts of him and her family made whole once more. The two share a spectral kiss before the druid feels himself pulled away to Greyhawk once more. Lyks embraces the half ogre as Jor-Mak tells him that he hopes that the experience eased his mind. The old ranger nods, a widening smile upon his face. Jor-Mak then thinks to Zemilay that he must go but that he will leave himself receptive to contact and to lay his plans well. Thanks are given and the demi-god departs through the astral plane leaving Lyks as happy as he's been in quite some time, a quiet peace in his mind.

Weeks later, a correspondence that the druid sent to the frozen north is finally answered. A peaceful afternoon is broken by a triplet of heavy thuds upon the door of pimpleton manor and Zemilay, suspecting the identity of the visitor, rushed to the door with as much quickness his old bones could muster. "Isrygrad!", the ranger called out. "I wasn't sure you would come." His former companion had bulked up over the years, the throne of Granrud keeping him from the rigors of adventuring but he still cast an impressive and regal silhouette. Once the house has been cleared for entry by King Talthraudii's royal guard, the Queen Teela makes her entrance. As lovely as the day she met the future king, it was hard to believe she had a son as old as Zemilay's own. "Greetings m'lady", Lyks bowed as he addressed her. The ravishing brunette bid him to stand, kissed his cheek gently and excused herself from the room so that the men could get down to what could only be serious business. Before that could happen however, the barbarian king clapped his hands and servants came pouring into the room bearing gifts, exotic fruits, cheeses and meats. The smell of foreign foods attracted the attention of George Pimpleton who made his way from his bedchambers to pay reverence to the quiet man who had become a sovereign. Isrygrad waved off the attempts at protocol and told the manservant how much he missed his cooking and that despite the many skilled cooks the king had at his disposal, they could never get the spices quite right. Once settled, the frost king and the druid of Greyhawk discussed the childrens' situation and what Zemilay intended to do to help them. Within the structure of the conversation Isrygrad asks without asking, his son Vetnik, is he on the path to heroism? Lyks replies that he is and that the king should be proud. The lord of the frozen wastes hesitates for a moment just as his lovely bride re-enters the room. "Just tell him you miss your son, don't be so cold," the former trainer of great cats implored. Despite the longing inside him, the monarch could not bring himself to speak the words aloud but instead nodded with a low head. Lifting his gaze, the lord turned the topic of conversation first to Zemilay's son and then to days of their adventuring past. Feeling the opportunity to genuinely relax, Isrygrad's now soft fingers sought the crown from his head and cast it upon the table. "I miss the days of adventuring, so simple, so satisfying," the king said longingly. "I am constantly settling my people's petty squabbles and insignificant problems…it is tiring friend." He seemed convincingly exhausted by the duties of his stature, Isrygrad had always been a humble man and he wore his authority uneasily. Suddenly the king shrugged off such thoughts and clapped his hands one more. "Wolf's blood wine!" he exclaimed as servants brought in several large silver jugs, ornate from lip to bottom, dire wolves adorning every side. Beckoning George from the kitchen, Isrygrad insists that he join them in drink. George takes note of the king's knowledge of his love of the grape and gladly joins them for a chalice of Bacchus' favorite libation. Noticing that one house guest is missing from the table, the monarch asks if the gnome, Burbis, is in his quarters. When Zemilay confirms this, Isrygrad suggests that perhaps that is for the best and the trio commence to indulge. Lyks feels his blood awaken as he consumes the sticky red concoction as his visitor raises his glass. "To two fine warriors," the toast rang out. The butler chuckled softly before answering dryly, "I only ever fought a battle with the bottle sir."

After enjoying several glasses of the nordic inebriant, the druid asked his long time friend if he would like to suit up for one last adventure. The king straightened up and retrieved his crown from the table, the ornate band finding its perch one more. "My duties are such that I cannot afford to leave for too long." he almost sighed as he said it, "This sojourn was all I could afford at this tumultous time." Isrygrad's eyes searched the room seeking a servant. Finding one's gaze, he snapped his fingers and within moments a small locked case was brought into the room. Producing a small gem encrusted key, the lord opened the coffer to reveal several bottles of powder. "These dusts represent the advancements of my people, you will find them well improved." the monarch beamed with pride as he spoke. Lyks accepted them with absolute gratitude and began to ruminate on the task that lay before him. Isrygrad would have none of this and demanded that since they had little time face to face, that it should be used for celebration. At first Zemilay tried to beggar off from the idea of drinking to unconciousness but as Isrygrad helpfully reminded him, the former barbarian was now royalty and his requests were not to be refused. "You're not the king of Greyhawk." Lyks protested. Squinting at his friend, Isrygrad could barely contain his joy as he retorted, "Oh yeah?…Well, I'm the king of you!…now drink up." The wolf's blood wine proves to be a potent potable and both the aged ranger and the frost king slump to the table before too long, leaving George Pimpleton to chuckle softly to himself as he drank on well into the night.

Nursing a significant hangover in the morning, Lyks finds that the king, queen, and his entourage have departed in the earliest part of the morn. He is saddened at first but George, who seems quite unfazed from the previous evening, suggests that perhaps Isrygrad finds goodbyes difficult. Zemilay nods in agreement while perusing the generous gift he was given. "Thank you dear friend" he thinks as the throbbing in his head thankfully, finally begins to subside.

It was the third Freeday of Brewfest when death finally visited Pimpleton Manor. It started out like any other day; Zemilay and George preferred to have breakfast together, before Burbis got up. It was more for the peace and quiet in the dawn rather than any dislike of the gnome. George would spend the bulk of his day at the market, his procurement list just a little longer than usual. Back at the manor, Lyks pored over maps and letters of contact to the nation of Furyondy, the rangers of the Vevse Forest and commanders in the Shield Lands. He was determined to call in old favors. Hell, he had to. There was too much at stake. Come the evening, the mansion's namesake had prepared a meal most sumptuous. "Master Burbis has been sent on a task that should take him most of the evening sir", George offered. Lyks wondered aloud what marked the occasion and his servant brushed off any special significance while urging him to sit and eat. A fine bottle of fey wine sat breathing at the end of the table. "I much prefer the subtlety in an elven wine over that barbarian lava," George proclaimed. Zemilay nodded in agreement, remembering the aftermath of King Talthraudii's visit. The meal was magnificent, the wine flowed freely, and the old companions found themselves at no loss for words. Tales of triumph, defeat, and love dominated the conversation. Speaking of his murdered lover, George opined, "I know she could be unpleasant sometimes but where you saw arrogance, I saw strength…where you saw brashness, I saw passion," He then turned his thoughts towards Zemilay's absent wife and the ultimate gift she gave him, his son Trisoll." Lyks appreciated the kind words and once again reminded his manservant that he was much more than that, he was also family.

A sip of tea, a coughing fit, blood on a napkin. Lyks knew it was coming yet it seemed so sudden. His faithful manservant suddenly looked frail, gazed up at him with yellowed eyes and spoke with a soft voice, "It's time sir." Zemilay mustered the strength to carry George up the stairs to his bedchamber and laid him upon his bed. After making his old companion comfortable, the druid pulled up a chair next to the bed and took his friend's hand. "It's truly been a pleasure serving you and yours sir," George's words were becoming less audible by the minute. Tears began to well up in the ranger's eyes, "There's no need for formality George, you are now and have always been my brother. The faithful butler's grip gradually loosened in Lyks' hand as he began to whisper, "She picked me you know?….With all my flaws and simple visage, she chose me…." Zemilay watched as his most devoted friend and companion took his final breath and passed from this realm. He took a moment and in a hushed tone, said to the wind, "Go to her friend, be together again." The druid could not stem the tide of tearful sorrow, nor did he try.

After mourning the loss of the man he named his manor after, the ranger knew he could spare no more time making sure that he had someone trustworthy in place to care for the home while he was gone. To that end, he decided to revisit the Church of Cortox. Perhaps Aulis or Geria might be enticed by Trisoll’s eventual presence to sign on, he thought. The walk was brisk, the winds were picking up early in the season. Zemilay’s druid training made him feel uneasy about the change. “Coincidence or portent of something yet to come?” he pondered. The front entrance to the church was different from the last time he was here. As followers had flocked to the church so had their coffers swelled. The new annex to the church appeared to be complete and the entire facade had been re-plated with silver and platinum. There was no longer a door, only a small open gateway which was attended by one of the faithful. Lyks made his way up the stairs and greeted the priestess standing at the doorway. To his surprise it was neither woman he sought but the mother of Lyssa Modius, Violetta Yragnere. Once the recognition set in, Zemilay greeted the senior acolyte warmly, noting how well she seemed to adjust in the church. Violetta praised Cortox and thanked him for healing the wounds in her head as well as the wounds to her soul. Lyks regarded the woman for a moment before he spoke, “You are a good woman and I’m glad things turned in your favor.” The priestess seemed troubled for a moment. “I was not a good person and I have to accept that but with Cortox’s blessing I realize I can move beyond that.” she replied. The druid reaffirmed the good that the church seemed to be bringing to her life before revealing his true purpose for visiting. He explains that he must go away for a time and that his most beloved servant has passed thus needing someone he feels he can trust to watch over the estate. Violetta seemed bowled over by the suggestion. After all, Zemilay Lyks was there at the re-unification of Cortox himself. How could she refuse? Her mind suddenly jumped to her many obligations at the church. “I don’t know…I have so many duties, but perhaps if Gemmen could be convinced?” she wondered aloud. The ranger assured her that he would speak with her superior while she continued with her line of thinking, “I spend much of my time in prayer..perhaps you’d be willing to convert a room into a small shrine?” she asked. Before Lyks could answer she added, “It’ll have to have roof access, I need to see the stars.” Zemilay agrees to this and offers to make any necessary adjustments to the house to make this possible. Before taking his leave, the ranger mentions offhandedly, “You’ll have a wonderful house companion by the way, a bear named Gibbs.” Violetta seemed alarmed at first but knowing Lyks’ abilities and affinity for the natural world, hesitatingly agrees to speak with Gemmen on her own behalf. Though the high priest feels that he has done quite enough for Zemilay Lyks in the moment, Gemmen eventually relents and grants Violetta leave to staff Pimpleton Manor. The elder priestess’ desire to be close to her daughter and the druid’s offer to place a shrine on the estate are enough to tip the scales in her favor. Feeling it a sign from Cortox, Violetta dutifully packs her bags while singing a hymn of thanks to her lord.

Several weeks later Lyks’ allies have assembled. In addition to Tic-Toc, Burbis and Jor-Mak, nine druids have answered the call. Led by Orunoll Jozran, the druid of the Vevse Forest, these priests of nature are experienced in battlefield warfare. Also hailing from the Vevse, four rangers have signed on to the cause. Zemilay is taken aback to find them led by Fanden and Faelin, a pair of twins cursed to never be separated. The druid had met them early in his career and though he felt sorrow for their continuing curse, compared to the scores of now-dead friends he’d had, he was glad to see they’d made it this far. Visits to the Shield Lands and Furyondy yielded Qualen Metryk and Prince Kyren Belvor respectively. Metryk was a seasoned commander in the Shield Land’s army and had fought at Lyks’ side at the battle of Arachnia while Prince Belvor was the cavalier son of King Belvor and as it was rumored, next in line to replace his father. Zemilay was surprised to find that Isrygrad’s gifts had not yet ceased, a dozen barbarian warriors of Granrud came to show solidarity, led by the warrior hero Galthranyr Guleegha while the Wolf Nomads, hearing of Granrud’s commitment, send a dozen warriors as well. Led by Kry-tok, son of Cha’tok, these soldiers seemed every bit as competent as their Eastern brothers. Not entirely satisfied with the forces he’d assembled, Lyks realized that time was short and that he’d have to make his move regardless. Gathering the disparate groups at the Church of Cortox proved to be less of a bother than initially thought. The remodel of the church also removed the spelljamming vehicle launch site from the main building and into an annex. Zemilay was glad for this, it’s bad enough he was going to put these barbarians on a flying ship, he didn’t need them crashing through the chapels like a herd of bulls. Once loaded onto the ship, a hammership by the name of Star Chaser, the rival barbarian tribes were lured below deck with promises of wine and non lethal combat while Lyks looked for the helm. Not finding one in the usual spot, the druid double checked with the ship master, Yewt Kofe, who explains that Star Chaser is powered by a helm of the stars and hands Zemilay a thin platinum circlet. She explains that this will allow him to control the ship while being able to move around on it, and not be bound to a single spot below deck. The ranger thanks her and climbs back aboard. Slowly, the conical roof of the annex began to part as the ship started to levitate. Being no stranger to piloting a spelljamming vehicle, Lyks is able to take the ship above the clouds with minimal danger. Some of the others, who had never been on a flying vessel before, marveled at the sights far below and the majesty of their airbound transport. Flying westward, Zemilay was puzzled on how to actually find the children and the land that claimed them. No amount of scrying had shown a thing and all attempts at contact, religious and magical, similarly showed nothing. Hours passed as he pondered his options. The sea was now beneath them, he had easily avoided a dead magic area in the desert, it was on all the church’s maps now but still no sign of land. His frustration was beginning to build to a tipping point when Burbis Baggleton happened on the bow of the ship. “What’sthematterboss?Youseemupset.” he spat the words out faster than a dwarf picks up a loose coin. Even in his exhaustion, Lyks had no problem understanding the excitable gnome. “I’m just a little frustrated about what we do next Burbis…I couldn’t find any land mass on any map I consulted and I..I just don’t know what to do.” The gnome could see the dissatisfaction on his friend’s face. "Maybewestoplookingforitboss? he muttered. “IknowthatwhenIlosesomethingIalwaysfinditthesecondIstoplookingforit.” Zemilay figured Burbis was spouting his usual nonsense when he stopped and really thought about it for a moment. Perhaps he was onto something? Zemilay relaxed, opened his mind to all things, all possibilities and thought of the children. Suddenly the very clear skies started to grow obscured by rapid cloud accumulation. Zemilay made a hurried attempt to steer the ship around the mist but it was no use, within moments the Star Chaser and all its passengers were lost beyond the veil.

View

MAR/2016

Tectonic

WORK IN PROGRESS…

The party arrived at Bar’doth Kek-taur, a secluded dwarven kingdom hidden deep in the mountains of Kellagha. Having safely guided the party into the the kingdom, the spirit of the dwarven cleric, Duinor, abandoned the body of the party’s cleric, Trisoll, and finally ascended from the Prime Material Plane into the afterlife. However, this self-exorcism left Trisoll in a catatonic state. The party was asked to stay the evening so that an event may be held in their honor, which they reluctantly agreed to. Trisoll was carted off to recuperate while the others split off into pairs and rest for the evening. Having a lengthy firsthand experience in dealing with possession, a sympathetic Lyssa rushes off to keep watch over Trisoll.

During the evening, the party was visited by royal attendants who came requesting to measurements of each member. When asked by Vetnik as to what they needed them for, they simply replied, “the Emperor’s gift, milord.” (Grum mused to his visiting attendant, “what, coffins?”) When an attendant came to visit Lyssa and Trisoll, Lyssa was immediately put on guard. With her signature arcane glowing red eyes, Lyssa frightened the attendant into fleeing from the room and ordered her to only return with healers in tow. Alone once more, Lyssa continued to watch over Trisoll as she combed through her spell book and magical items, looking for some way to wake Trisoll from his slumber. Using a mind scan, Lyssa found Trisoll’s psyche too weak to project his thoughts but could feel him slowly pulling together psychic strength.

The rest of the party took short rests and were offered new attire for their audience with the emperor — none of which fit since the clothes were dwarven in not only make, but size as well. Vetnik left Moira and went in search of Trisoll. A dwarven servant named Belek agreed to escort the barbarian to where his friend was being kept. The pair briefly discussed life in Bar’doth Kek-taur and Emperor Durgoth’s stern but benevolent rule before being reunited with his companions. Vetnik and Lyssa discussed what they could do for Trisoll to pull him out of his state (“Come back to me my friend,” Vetnik whispered to him with no reaction.) Their discussion over whether or not the dwarves of Bar’doth Kek-taur could be trusted was disrupted by another attendant, who relayed a summons from the Emperor. Lyssa refused, even against Vetnik’s urging and promise that he would carry Trisoll with them before the Emperor.
“I understand your action, and I appreciate you staying with him. Protocol demands otherwise. I’ll be back soon.”
Vetnik returns to Moira, who confides in her his fear for Trisoll as well as regret over not urging Lyssa to take her audience with the royal court.

The party came together in the great dining hall before the Emperor and his court of advisors and chancellors. The Emperor’s mouthpiece, Demarek Gordemn, summoned the royal attendants to court, the same who came to the measure the party, and they brought with them several suits of armor, all of which were made of or contain, real metal. Abigail’s was visibly moved when presented her first suit of iron platemail, while Moira was honored to receive a set of armor bearing the symbols of the sword (Starstrike) and shield (Bladebane) of her fathers. When it came time to Lyssa, Vetnik managed to convince Demarek to excuse her. Once gifts were all bestowed, the real feast began, the stoicism of the great hall was lifted as the Emperor ordered the heroes feast to begin. Back in Trisoll’s room, Lyssa could hear the carousing of men and women enjoying the finest in dwarven food and drink. Suddenly, Trisoll’s eyes burst open as he shot up off the gurney with a great exhale. Panicked at first, Trisoll searched the room for a familiar face and found Lyssa at his side, who tried to keep him calm as best as she could.
“What happened? Where is everyone else?”
“Presumably drunk by the sound of it. What do you remember?”
“I remember the pillar in Beoll-dur. Wait, are we still in Beoll-dur?”
“Not quite.”
“Not quite? What do you mean not quite!?”
“What else do you remember?”
“I remember the pillar made of crystal and then… then my head, hurting. Overcome with pain. And now, I’m here, with you, alone, in not-Beoll-dur. You said everyone is drunk?”
“We’re in an underground kingdom, dwarves—“
“Dwarves?!”
“Yes, lots of them, a whole mountain full. Back in Beoll-dur, you were taken—“
“Taken?!”
“Will you stop? Yes, you were possessed by the spirit of some old dwarven cleric. He guided us here to relative safety, and now everyone seems to be eating and drinking.”
Trisoll emerged off the table, his eyes bloodshot with frustration. Lyssa stepped aside, sympathetic to his anger, and slowly followed as he stomped out of the room and down towards the great hall to meet the others.

Trisoll approached the great hall and could see his friends and companions mixing it up with the dwarven royalty. He stood under the threshold and with unprecedented frustration, he cried out: “I AM SICK AND TIRED OF BEING USED!” The earth itself rumbled as he stood, for only a moment, but a moment that hushed the room. All eyes were on him. Emperor Durgoth whispered in Demarek’s ear as Vetnik did his best to calm down the angry cleric. Through Demarek, Emperor Durgoth summoned Trisoll over to explain himself. Durgoth is taken by Trisoll’s usual fiery disposition and makes a royal toast to his honor and brazenness! With Trisoll calmed, the party resumed with renewed fervor – both Moira and Thom were both victims of the strong dwarven ale. As Moira professes her love for Lyssa’s ascerbicness, Thom contemplates his new, metallic fingers while his brother, Grum, revealed that he in fact knew about the fingers but promised not to tell the others.

The party finds out that the kingdom’s resource of ore has been blocked off for weeks by some strange phenomenon down in the iron vaults: a large, floating orb of shifting Elemental energies blocking the main passage that no one in the kingdom has been able to dispel. The party agrees to investigate, and together with three of the emperor’s finest warriors, in exchange for a few platoons of dwarven warriors to assist the party in the battle at Morgoth. Lyssa and Trisoll confide in each other about their continued homesickness. Lyssa revealed though that her duty is to the party, but more importantly, herself, and if comes down to it, she’ll be willing to take down Barth if necessary. Trisoll pleaded with Lyssa to at least let him devise a plan with the others, especially, Moira, before signing Barth off to death.

The trio of metal-hungry xorn emerged from against the cave walls with tooth and claw drawn. The party dispatches them easily and they continue towards the opening of the vaults. There, the party comes face to face with the orb. The large mass swirls with colliding Elemental energies; fire, water, earth, and air flow across each other yet seem to remain unaffected. Lyssa consults the Eye of Modius and it’s revealed that the orb itself is made up of four Elementals who were forcibly taken from their planes and magically fused together to become a prison for something of great power. Grunt hands off his Arrows of Elemental Slaying to Grunt and shoots them into the orb. The arrows crash into the coils of fire and water, and the party watches as they evaporate, leaving only air and earth. The swirling combination of earth and air began to unravel, separate, and float down towards the party. The misty vapor and pieces of sand and rock began to take on their truth natures, forming separately into the bodies of both Air and Earth Elementals. As the orb of Elemental energy dispersed, it revealed to the party a fifth form, curled up into a ball and floating, a thin, humanoid man in fine, yet understandably dirtied, formal attire.

Lyssa recited a dispel magic spell from her scroll, but as the glowing letters lifted off the page, she was suddenly overcome with a wild surge. The arcane words that fluttered towards the mysterious elemental orb begin to merge and grow into one large humanoid mass of shimmering chaotic energy. Before the party stood a towering Dispel Magic Elemental, its body composed entirely of magical energies, the sinew of which flickered and flared as veins of wild magic collided into one another. The party prepared themselves for the worse, but watched as the Dispel Magic Elemental lumbered towards the orb of Elemental energy and slammed its energy fist against it. The Dispel Magic Elemental immediately dispersed and took with it the air elemental. The being in the center now freed, he comes to and the party watches as the mysterious figure warps the earth elemental into oblivion.

The party confronts a small patrol of duergars who are smuggling dwarven ore through a gate portal. The party slays all but one, who telepathically reveals that an army is growing in Morgoth, evil creatures of all make (from duergars to dragons) under the banners of the Ebon Rider, Kr’zzt, and the Circle of Bones.

The earth opened with a vortex of dirt and grass, and the party emerged from beneath the planet itself with Laterius. Back on the surface, they now stood at the great gates of a massive, enclosed city. While there was little they could see over the city walls, one structure in particular cut up into the sky and caught their attention: a large, towering castle resting at the top of a hill, not unlike Castle Zagyg in Greyhawk. This castle, however, appeared to be in fine condition. Together, the party prepared to enter Yggsburgh.

View

FEB/2016

The Kingdoms Below

WORK IN PROGRESS…

Having (literally) unseated the Salamander king, Searzul, from his throne beneath the halls of the ruined Beoll-dur and slain him, the party continued to make their way through the feverishly hot stronghold of the Peerless Legion in search of a way back up to the surface.

Despite their best efforts, the scouts and thieves of the party were unable to find any other access point in the throne room. It was the blue-blooded Vetnik who discovered a secret passageway out of the room though, which opened into a long, spiraling corridor cutting through the subterranean kingdom. (“There’s always a secret exit!”) 60 feet in, Grum and Grunt disarmed an undisclosed trap before continuing down the corridor that ended in a locked, untrapped door. Grum opened the door, revealing a room filled with jewels and treasures piled against the walls at least 10 inches high. Lyssa urged Moira to detect any evil while Grum looks over the storeroom with his Gem of Seeing and revealed that the treasures appeared authentic. As the Moira scanned the room, Thom reached into the pile of treasures and inadvertently set off an unseen trigger. An arcane gate opened and from it emerged three more Salamanders who proceeded to ambush the party. Both Grum and Moira were both slashed by their spears; the second ended up fumbling and injuring itself while engaged with Moira. The infernal presence of the creatures began to quickly warp and char the gold and jewels, and seeing the potential for chromatic ingredients to be damaged, Lyssa rushed to cool the room with an ice storm from her Wand of Frost, coating the room in blinding sleet. Grum fired off a pair of arrows, and Vetnik watched proudly as Moira deftly glided across the icy stone floor to cut into the Salamanders in retaliation. Both Trisoll and Thom chose to buff their companions from the corridor, bestowing blessings and banging out triumphant rhythms on war drums. Just as Abigail rushed into the room, glass longsword drawn, a Salamander lashed out with its tail, crushing her right shoulder with it. Moira shrugged off another of the Salamander’s spear blows while Abigail was left at the mercy of another Salamander, breaking her left leg. Vetnik slid across the sleet-covered floor, missing the first swing against Moira’s attacker, but as he neared Abigail, he drove his blade into the Salamander’s tail. Two of Grunt’s arcane arrows zipped into the room, colliding into the magma-hot skin of Abigail’s attackers. The mage hunter tried her best to summon the strength to swing her sword, but the pain of her injuries seemed too much to bear.

Vetnik ripped his blade from the Salamander’s tail and reached over and drove it into the Salamander Moira was defending herself against, much to her surprise. Grunt continued to fire off Hank and watched as the pale bolts exploded against the Salamander. In retaliation, Vetnik received a spear to the side, but he shrugged the blow off and continued on. Abigail struggled to get back to her feet but as she inched away from the Salamander, she felt the horrid pain of its heavy tail crash down against her left leg once against. Hearing Abigail’s cries of pain, Moira spun around and slashed at the Salamander but her form proved too loose and she missed. Trisoll called out to Moira, “Do you need me to heal you?”
“No! Abigail needs you!”
Trisoll sighed and begrudgingly rushed in to give Abigail one of his patented (albeit reluctant) healing hugs. The hug was half-hearted though, and only afforded Abigail a sliver of her health. Trisoll quickly retched himself from her, but as he turned to walk away, he saw a plaintive look in her eyes, one that silently asked for some kind of mercy. Thom put aside his drums and drew his longsword and cuts through the Salamander menacing Abigail, poking its lifeless body once with the tip of his blade with a shrug. Lyssa sheathed her Wand of Frost and as she approached Thom and Abigail, she opened her hand and let loose a flurry of magic missiles against the remaining Salamander. In retaliation, the Salamander began to intone a gate spell but before it could finish speaking the portal into existence, Grunt fired off two killing Hank-bolts.

The thieves in the party began to dig through the ice-covered treasures, rifling through cracked and damaged jewels to pocket the few pristine remains beneath. Vetnik and Moira sheathed their blades before he gifted her a potion of healing.
“If you’ll excuse me, I have to tend to Abigail,” she said as she carressed Vetnik’s cheek before going. As Moira moved to join Abigail, she watched as Lyssa displayed, sternly, a once-in-a-lifetime show of kindness by gifting her half-sister a potion of healing. Abigail wiped her mouth and the sisters momentarily glared at each other in silence. Lyssa turned around, snapping her cloak as she walked past Moira and joined the thieves in raiding the treasure.

Vetnik was hesitant to load up any more treasure as the Bag of Holding was already weighted with the party’s earlier stash of treasures as well as the metal armor they were forced to conceal upon entering Kellagha. Grum scouted ahead and found another door, acid-trapped and locked, but managed to disarm and even salvage the bladder of acid for his own use. He opened the door to find a room identical to the previous, teeming with jewels and treasures. Vetnik advised the party to anticipate another ambush, and proposed that they trigger the gate by disturbing the treasure. They agree and while Grum scouts the corridor ahead with help of his Ring of Invisibility, Vetnik tossed a broken gem into the pile of treasure. Just as he suspected, as soon as the treasure was disturbed, a portal opened. Three Salamanders emptied into the room to find the archers of the party with their arrows notched, with Lyssa standing in the middle. She opened her palm and released a wave of wild magic that collided against the three demons. Two of the Salamanders watched as wild magic overcame their companion, paralyzing it in place. As the wild magic dissipated, the party watched the energy swirling around the room return to Lyssa, causing her to levitate off the ground against her will. The two Salamanders mobilized against the party, attempting to strike out at Grunt but both missed. Grunt in turn kept them at bay with the help of Hank. Abigail attempted to take up her blade once more but as she swung her blade, the pain of her shoulder proved too persistent. Thom took aim with his longbow and fired off a pair of arrows, both of which found purchase. Vetnik revealed to the party a talent for javelin throwing as he chucked a Javelin of Lightning into the room. As the javelin zipped into the room, its exterior was consumed by crackling energy before becoming a bolt of pure electricity, shooting through one of the Salamanders before disappearing and consuming a second.

Uncontrollably levitating, Lyssa opened her hands and released four magic missiles into the body of the paralyzed Salamander as Thom rushed into the room with his longsword drawn, stabbing into the still-smoking body of one of the Salamanders, felling it. Her eyes blood-shot with frustration, Abigail took up her sword once more and rushed in after and finished the paralyzed Salamander off with two killing slashes, cleaving it from neck to belly, spitting on its bifurcated torso. Lyssa pressed her hands against the roof of the room and directed the others below on which gems to pull for herself, but Thom reminded her that the hoard was a party find and would be split in due time. Once finished pillaging, Grum called out to the party, alerting them of the safety of the rest of the passage. They followed the sound of his boot steps down the still-winding corridor until coming upon an open and very large room. Inside rested a long table in the center surrounded by 13 chairs with large seats, presumably made to fit the legless Salamanders. Grum and Thom scouted the room for any hidden exits; Thom found a door and could hear the sound of slithering behind it. Upon opening it, they were greeted by a pair of Salamanders angered by the assassination of their king. The archers of the party released a flurry of arrows into the demons, attempting to draw them out into the more open room. After firing his first set of arrows, Grum tripped as he attempted to notch back two more arrows. Still fitful, Abigail limped in with blade unsheathed and managed to slay one of the Salamanders. The last Salamander managed to dodge both Thom and Grunt’s second round of arrows. Vetnik and Moira rushed in and together cut into the last Salamander. In return, the Salamander attempted to gate in reinforcements but failed. Grunt gave Hank a rest and jumped into melee using his broadsword, but it was Moira who slayed the last Salamander. The room itself was a large and rectangular decorated with intricate stone reliefs depicting crude Salamander conquests over man, the procession of which lead to an elaborate and large bed.

Taking the exit from the sleeping chamber, they followed the scouts down another corridor. As they progressed, they could feel the warmth inside intensify to the point of oppression. Those clad in armor struggled but pushed ahead. Not accustom to such heat, even the stoic Vetnik seemed shaky in the heat. The corridor lead to the single door, thicker than the others they had encountered. Thom could hear behind it the sound of steam and slow dripping, but could not bear to keep his ear to the door for long, as the thick stone was hot to the touch. They quickly opened it and found inside a room with walls coated in flowing lava that seemed to drip from the walls and coalesce into a large portal in the center of the room. The planar gash swirled with orange radiance, and the air around it seemed to shimmer like the hot air floating off of searing hot iron. Moira sensed no evil from it though, but the magic was potent. Drawn to the power, Lyssa approached and slid through the portal without warning. The twins shrugged and leaped in after, only to find Lyssa crouching on a solitary island of molten rock floating in a plane of endless glowing magma, and soon, all three immediately began to buckle under the weight of the incredible heat radiating from the pool beneath them. They quickly backed out of the portal, emptying into the room they were once in, which now by comparison seemed brisk and tepid. The rest of the party tended to them, their bodies flush and drenched in sweat, as if traversing the deserts for days without water.
“That wasn’t a great idea. Let’s keep moving,” quipped Lyssa, her throat yearning for water. Moira passed around the waterskin as they made their way out of the portal room and backtracked their way out of the dungeon. As they traveled back, small blobs of lava began to pool through the cracks in the stone floor, forming into small impish beings composed wholly of molten rock. The beings turned and hissed at the party, and with steaming breath, emptied out streams of lava from their eyes. Abigail screeched in pain as the lava burned her flesh and coated her wooden armor. As she crumbled to the ground, Trisoll reached out and cast control temperature over the area, cooling the hall down considerably. Through glowing pale eyes, Trisoll watched as the flesh of four of the creatures cooled and blackened before shattering.

Having scavenged what wealth was left undamaged in the room, the party once again readied themselves to move. A short discussion determines that though Searazul lies slain, the pillar containing the soul of the dwarven cleric Duinor still lays undiscovered. Abigail steels herself despite her recent misfortunes and loses herself in thought for a moment while Grum and Grunt resume their position at the front of the party as they begin to retrace their steps. Heading south through Searazul’s throne room, the party is struck by the fact that the King’s corpse is nowhere to be found. Moira, tapping into her knowledge of demonology, explains that even a minor power like Searazul cannot be forever destroyed on the Prime Material Plane and that his essence had no doubt retreated to the Abyss to reconstitute itself. Grum decides to head west at the juncture beyond the demon’s chambers, he and his rapidly improving pupil, Grunt checking for traps and secret doors along the way. A door to the north at the end of the corridor opens to a second such passageway, extending in either direction. The warrior thief spies a door on the opposite wall just twenty feet from their point of egress and heads to it. After Tom places an ear to the door and the lock mechanism is inspected by the rogue of little words, the passage is opened. A short hallway reveals two doors. The closest door is checked first and the bard indicates that he hears a sound reminiscent of liquid. Once entered, the room is revealed to contain a long pool of boiling oil. Across from the pool lays a narrow platform on which a pair of iron golems silently guard an ornate door on the east wall. A rock is tossed into the pool and a number of tentacles snake out of the blistering pool and thrash about, looking in vain for a foe to drag into the scalding pit. After some deliberation Tom assumes gaseous form and floats across the perilous basin. As he reaches the gilded door, the golems spring to life but are unable to stop the bard from passing through a small crack in the door. Behind it he finds a temple to the dwarven god, Moradin. Deciding not to defile the holy shrine, Tom returns to the group with his revelation. The party decides to move on.

The door to the north, though locked and trapped, proves no match for Grum’s fine manipulation of his thieves’ tools and is soon splayed open. Behind it lay a room lined with bookcases, with 3 free standing cases in the center. Upon first gaze, Lyssa darts into the room and begins searching the moldy tomes for anything useful. A number of codexes do indeed prove to be salvageable and imbued with magical power. The bard searches his memory for tales and clues that might prove to identify these enscorcelled pages and is able to piece together the names of several before the party picks up and moves back out into the larger corridor.

Carefully heading west, the party spies a door on the north wall sixty feet down the passage. Making their way to it, they find that the other side of the aperture emits a low hum of some sort while a violet glow creeps out from under the space at the foot of the door. Cautiously, Vetnik opens the door, Moira and Abigail flanking him. The entryway leads to a room that houses a sixty foot high, ten foot diameter crystal that glows with a magical luminescence. A voice issues from the pillar asking if the task is done, if the Salamander King lies dead. The party affirms that it is so and the voice introduces itself as the former dwarven priest, Duinor. Duinor first expresses surprise that both man and elf would endeavor to aid the dwarves before commending their bravery and tenacity. The party members are then told to approach the pillar one by one as the spirit of the crystal bestows gifts upon them. Once the grants are given, Duinor informs the party that Emperor Durgoth must be told of Beoll-Dur’s liberation. He tells them that the tunnels to Bar’doth Kek-Taur will be impassable to them without his help and in that moment, Trisoll clutches at his head in discomfort for a moment before he seems to recover. When the priest of Tritheron speaks next it is not his voice that issues forth. Duinor explains that he has possessed the free spirited cleric until the palace of the great undermountain city is reached. Duinor intones the words of ancient dwarven magic and the party sinks into and becomes one with the stone beneath their feet. After descending a short distance, the party finds itself in a large cavernous chamber. “It is here our journey begins”, explains the spirit wearing the flesh of the party’s dear friend. As the party rests and prepares themselves, Moira asks Duinor about his shock at the idea that man and elf might help the cause of the dwarves and he explains the story of “The Great Betrayal”. It seems that a hundred years ago, the orcish clans allied with the united tribes of giants to extinguish the light of dwarvenkind from Kellagha. The dwarves looked to their allies, mankind and the elves to assist them in repelling this dangerous coalition of foes, and man and elf, jealous of the wealth of their friends under the mountain, turned their backs on the Gore’denach hoping that they would be weakened or destroyed. The dwarven forces suffered devastating losses but prevailed despite their numbers. In the aftermath of that narrow victory, it was decided that all dwarves would return to the mountain, living above ground nevermore. Additionally, Emperor Durgoth ordered that all trade of metals with the surface be immediately and indefinitely suspended. This, Duinor says, is the reason that the party must be taken to an audience with the king. No man or elf has done deed one for the kingdom of the undermountain since this dark time. Moira’s thoughts drift to the Cortoxian acolytes on the surface, watched over by the Geldan exile Abraxos, and how she will communicate their destination to them…

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JAN/2016

The Peerless Legion

WORK IN PROGRESS…

The party continued deeper into the ruins of Beoll-dur, still going on cryptic warning provided by the fallen metallic dwarf they encountered after finding “Dog Dick” McGirk’s hoard. While investigating, they came upon an old tome that told of the presence of infernal Salamanders that had overtaken Beoll-dur, led by their king Searazul. In an unusual display of leadership, Grunt took charge of scouting for the party and together they meandered through the halls.

They come upon a locked, untrapped door. Grum nods approvingly at his ward’s effortless lock picking. What they find behind is something they were not warned about. Inside, a corridor filled with a pile of armored skeletons rested. Grunt looks up and sees an opening in the roof above and determines that the pile of bodies must have been victims of a death drop trap. Beyond the pit was a narrow staircase descending into a 3rd level, illuminated only by the glow of red-hot magma burning from a large fissure scarring the walls. Thom and Grunt carefully affix a series of pitons to aid the party in getting down the steep and broken staircase. Those in the party wearing heavier armor start to feel encumbered by the severe heat emanating from the fissure.

At the base of the steps is another door. Thom presses his pointed ear against it and hears the sound of combat behind it: weapons crashing against each other accompanied by dry, alien grunts. Moira confirms the presence of demonic entities and readies herself. Grunt, after finding no traps, throws the door open to find two Salamanders engaged in mock combat using quarterstaffs. Abigail engages first, cutting into one of the salamanders with her glass blade. Grunt looses a pair of arcane arrows from “Hank”, one of which strikes. Lyssa stays out of harm’s way and begins to probe the injured Salamander with Mind Scan. Trisoll carefully imparts Resist Fire on Lyssa, Just as she shoos Trisoll away fearing that he might break her concentration, the pair of Salamanders attacks Lyssa. The first comes after her with a spear but Lyssa yanks the weapon from him and tosses it across the room. The second grabs Lyssa with its mighty tail and partially constricts her. Vetnik and Moira jump in to attempt to rescue her, cutting into the demon with glass longswords. Moira cuts through the Salamander’s torso, slaying it and freeing Lyssa from its constricting tail.

“Damnit, Moira! I had it.”
“I’m sure you did. You’re welcome!”

Thom stays to the back of the party, drumming for inspiration as Grum slashes (and misses) with Lyn & Slå. Grunt tries to shoot the second Salamander, but the demon wraps its tail around his foot, throwing his attack off. It lunges at Vetnik but misses. While focused on Vetnik, the Salamander slashed by Grum’s mythic daggers. Vetnik immediately follows with two more strikes of his sword, jamming his blade into the belly of the Salamander, eviscerating it spraying warm, lava-like blood all over. In the rubble, Thom and Lyssa find a rope of climbing and medallion of thought projection respectively.

They continue ahead and come upon a second door. Thom’s keen hearing detects the sound of four individuals behind. Learning from her previous encounter, Lyssa casts armor over herself. Grunt pushes the door open as quietly as possible, allowing the party to get the advantage. Moira is first into battle, using the heat and hatred of evil to help her deliver a debilitating blow to the first Salamander’s tail. Vetnik attacks a second Salamander while Grunt jumps in to support Moira, firing arcane arrows into her target’s tail, destroying it. Grum cuts into Vetnik’s target while his brother continues to drum for inspiration. Abigail jumps in and dogpiles Vetnik’s salamander, slaying it in the process before cutting into a fresh demon. Trisoll stands back and blesses the party while Lyssa takes on the final and hits it with her ghostly radiant Chillblade.

Grunt helps Abigail out by firing an arcane arrow into the Salamander’s right arm, breaking it and causing him to drop his spear. Thom puts his drums away and cuts into the demon while Vetnik moves onto Abigail’s Salamander, rushing it deathly focus. Lyssa follows up with a second attempt to stab with Chillblade but misses. Moira fells the 3rd Salamander, leaving the last one for Grunt and “Hank” to finish off. Vetnik takes one of the wooden spears for his own, while the thieves, Thom, and Lyssa search the corpses. Thom and Grum find two more ropes; Grunt finds a pair of Bracers of Defense which he gives to Lyssa (combined with her Dex grants her AC1); Lyssa finds a strange item, a large heavy digging tool resembling a 10’ long mattock. Thom determines it to be a Mattock of the Titan, which they choose to leave behind.

Grunt leads them south down a long, meandering hallway. A half hour into their walk, they decide to set up camp to heal, re-up on spells and identify the ropes (Thom determines them to be a Rope of Constriction and a Rope of Entanglement.) After resting, they continue to another door. Behind the door, Thom hears strange clanging but not that of battle. Grunt checks for traps and locks, neither of which he detects. They happen upon a solitary Salamander grunt moving equipment around. Lyssa urges them to not kill him so that they can extract information, but the Grum ignores her and plunges Lyn & Slå into him and causing a lightning bolt to burn the creature from the inside out. Vetnik knocks the demon out with the blunt of his sword. Vetnik finds a necklace hanging from its belt and pockets it. Lyssa and Moira pair up to wake the Salamander and Lyssa begins to Mind Scan it, searching for any clues as to what waits for them. She gets a general layout of the 3rd level, but before she can extract more information about Searazul, she is shut out. Vetnik beheads the demon and together the party moves on with a better understanding of the layout of the 3rd level, making their way to Searazul’s throne room. On the way, Thom identifies the necklace found to be a Necklace of Strangulation.

Continuing down the hall, they hear the distinct sound of footsteps following them. Grunt stops, realizing that the Salamanders have tails and therefore would not be the ones to create the sounds. Thom pinpoints the source of the footsteps: “These are our own footsteps echoing back at us.” Trisoll casts Silence 15’ over the party, allowing the party to move quietly.

“Sure, I can cast it, but what will our signal be in case you need to cast?”
Lyssa cocks her head and gives him the finger.
“Got it!”

The party silently continues down a winding series of hallways for about an hour before encountering another door. Thom hears nothing, and gives Grunt the greenlight to open. He does so, revealing an unlit room. Grunt takes his torch and tosses it into the center of the room. As the fire touches the ground, it reveals four inky black Shadows gathered together, all of which rush to attack the party. The first Shadow touches Moira and she feels her strength immediately sapped. A second Shadow attempts to strike Grunt but misses, but he falls prey to a third. Trisoll is the last to be attacked. Vetnik rushes in to defend both his partner and his best friend, splitting his hits between the two attacking Shadows. Grunt tries to fend off the Shadows attacking him but stumbles and falls. Lyssa draws her Wand of Frost and conjures a cone of cold, freezing a pair of the Shadows and destroying them. Abigail follows Vetnik and splits her attacks as well, killing the first but missing with the second. Thom extends his hands and casts burning hands, obliterating the final Shadow. Thom stumbles upon a secret door while the party searches the room for treasure. Grunt detects traps and just barely disarms a deadly acid trap. After disarming, he unlocks the door to reveal a gem and chip stash (12k gp, 16 whole gems, 10 pc jewelry, a Ring of Water Walking, Potion of Fire Resistance, Rod of Negation, a scroll with 4 spells and 3 ivory goat figurines.)

After successfully raiding the chamber, they move on and eventually come upon a large stone gate. Grunt tries to break in but is unsuccessful. Lyssa and Trisoll search their spells while Vetnik tries to pull open the structure. Vetnik asks Moira to help but she worries that she’s still drained from the Shadow attack. Trisoll steps forward and begins to cast stone shape while the couple pry open the doors, and they just barely manage to pry it open and a completely empty room and a corridor. They travel west up the corridor until coming upon another closed door. Grunt opens it up and immediately sees a trio of dazed hobgoblins transfixed by floating, glowing lights. Their presence seems to break the hobgoblins from their trance, and they immediately flee past the party. They choose to ignore the room and instead travel down the other hall, another winding corridor that opens into a double-wide hall ending in a door. His patience worn thin, Vetnik kicks the door down after Thom and Grunt confirm the door’s safety and finds 6 resting Salamanders. The party slays them (with Vetnik breaking the neck of one with his bare hands) and they move onto the throne room of Searazul, where they find him waiting, sitting upon his throne. Before he can react, Lyssa telekinetically yanks King Searazul right off his throne and drags him closer to the party. Grum breaks his left arm with an arcane arrow. He tries to flee, but Lyssa concentrates her telekinesis and binds him to the throne room floor. After several rounds, it is Moira who slays the demonic Salamander King. They find a Brazier of Sleep Smoke and a pair of Gauntlets of Ogre Power.

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JAN/2016

Into the Halls of Beoll-Dur

COMING SOON….

View

DEC/2015

Mi'pa'ke is Burning

WORK IN PROGRESS…

The party flies and climbs into the canopy of the fallen Geldan Abraxos’s former tribe, the Mi’pa’ke. The kingdom is a series of covered floorless domed nests spread out through the canopy. Trisoll almost falls from the treetops but is caught and steadied by Moira. He reveals to her an uneasiness of heights. A Geldan warrior named Ahriman assists Vetnik getting into the royal court by picking him up and carrying him. The party is brought before the court of Mi’pa’ke, headed by an anthromorphic macaw Geldan named Emperor Alkanost. Thom acts as interpreter for the party. Abraxos urges the emperor and the rest of his court of an invasion from the Sun Elves. The court is wary of Abraxos and the party at first, but hears them out. Despite allowing them an audience, Abraxos is still deemed flightless and is cast out. Vetnik tries to reason with the emperor about the impending threat of the Sun Elves, which Alkanost scoffs at — at first. Alkanost’s royal druid, Nithail, casts some unknown spell while Moira steps up to offer her word in support of Vetnik. Jeramicht confirms her to be truthful, but just as that confirmation comes, the conference is cut short by an explosion in a nearby nest and the party rush out of the court to investigate.

Emperor Alkanost’s royal mage Jeramicht and a few honor guards surround and protect him while the rest of his court and the party is ejected from the emperor’s nest. Outside, the threat of Sun Elves is confirmed by Thom who sees a nearby nest ablaze and about a dozen to two dozen Sun Elves traversing the canopy towards them. He also spies a small cell in the midst of in fighting. Lyssa floats down and casts a chaos shield on herself. Grum draws two daggers and attempts to cut a pair of assassins down, but the Sun Elves prove too agile and dodge both attacks. Trisoll steels himself high in the trees and blesses the entire party. Abigail leaps through the trees and cuts into tow Sun Elves with her glass longsword. Inspired, Moira follows Abigail and cuts off the right arm of an assassin and forcing him to fall to his death; she cuts deep into a second assassin almost slaying him. Lyssa thrusts a concussive lance of disruption into a pair of oncoming assassins.

Off in the distance, a thin, pale elvish figure defends himself against a group of Sun Elves. Drawing his longbow, he disarms an assassin with an arrow into the arm and begins to rush towards the party. Grunt whips out Hank and fires off a pair of energy bolts and blasts a pair. Thom follows up with two arrows of his own and forces another elf out of the canopy. The Sun Elves pursue after the mysterious pale elf, firing arrows after him, but the pale elf dodges the arrows. The also set their sights on the largest of the group, Vetnik, but they just barely miss. Grunt proves just as agile as the assassins and dodges the arrows with ease. Thom is the first hit with arrows, but is fortunate as they barely graze him. Out of the darkness, two more arrows fly and make purchase into Lyssa. Her body seizes up and is overtaken by a paralyzing poison. Her mind still cognizant, she manages to keep up concentration and stay afloat while frozen. The Sun Elves do their best but fail to take down any Geldans; the Geldans retaliate furiously, hacking into their numbers with staves edged with kopesh blades.
Grum manages to snag another Sun Elves and slashes it with his bone dagger as the Geldans continue to zip through the canopy, cutting even more of the assassins down. Vetnik leaps in to attack another Sun Elf but misses, but slips and falls out of the canopy. Just as he begins to plummet to the earth, Ahriman swoops down and grabs him, saving him from falling. Abigail misses both of her attacks. Moira is more successful, cutting into two more assassins. The remaining Sun Elves continue forward, cutting into the mysterious pale ally. Another attempts to stab at Grunt but trips on a tree branch and falls stunned to the ground below (much to Grunt’s amusement.) Thom is blasted by two more arrows flying at maximum speed, while Lyssa, still incapacitated, becomes a hovering shooting target. The first arrow zips by, cutting through her shoulder. The second plants itself into her left leg. Unable to cry out in pain, her eyes tear up as they flare with burning arcane energy. Trisoll sees Lyssa floating helplessly and, summoning up all the courage he can, he leaps off a nearby branch and grabs hold of her. Grabbing on tight, he pulls out the arrow and concentrates on a blessing from Trithereon, which successfully courses through her body as the pair begin to descend slowly. The poison is purged from her body and Trisoll begs Lyssa to keep the both of them floating while he concentrates on a healing prayer. Several yards away, the pale elf blasts two more elves out of the treetops with his arrows. Thom aims his bow, firing into another Sun Elf and fells it. Grunt tries to take down two more assassins but misses.

The pale elf runs towards the party, firing another pair of elves but is struck by an arrow. He stumbles but manages to steady himself and continue fighting. He notices beneath him a sect of elvish sorcerers gathering around the base of the royal tree and watches as they set it ablaze with a series of fireballs. The Sun Elf archers continue to fire at the party. They miss Grum and Lyssa, but Trisoll is wounded by an arrow to the leg. He winces but grits his teeth and continues to pray to Trithereon, wrapping his arms tighter around Lyssa in the process. After almost falling, Vetnik steels himself. He picks up his blade and charges at two more assassins, cutting one of them down. Abigail and Moira continue to slice into the remaining assassins, of which three are visible. Grum follows up, shooting down the one Abigail slashed. Thom takes a pair of shots but doesn’t manage to land his arrows. While Lyssa and Trisoll continue to sink and struggle to stabilize themselves, Trisoll selflessly devotes his critical wound prayer to Lyssa. She looks down and sees the four elvish sorcerers surrounding the base of the royal tree. Her eyes aglow, she hisses and casts fireflow over the flames burning at the base of the tree. She manages to engulf two of them – though thanks to a wild surge, she attacks the two sorcerers she didn’t intend to.

The Geldans continue to fly through the canopy, cutting down the remaining archers. Vetnik cuts into his opponent and after felling it, watches as the pale elf comes into view as he almost slays another Sun Elf with his arrows. Lyssa continues to concentration on her fireflow spell and expands the flames. The sorcerers attempt to flee but all are overwhelmed by the waves of flames. After slaying them, Lyssa immediately extinguishes the fires. Lyssa turns her head around and sees the royal mage Jeramicht swooping down towards her. To her surprise, he addresses her in common, thanking her for putting out the flames. She accepts and asks the mage to carry Trisoll to safety. The trio flies back into the royal nest where Jeramicht heals Trisoll the best he can, closing up his wound. Back from the brink of near unconsciousness, Trisoll prays to Trithereon and heals himself a bit more. Grunt takes aim at one of the last Sun Elves but misses. Grum follows up with an arrow and almost fells it, but the assassin begins to sneak away. Moira charges after it but misses. Thom does his best to support his brother and kills the evading assassin. The remaining Sun Elves quickly unsheathe small vials and begin to down the contents. Three of them disappear from sight while another two dive down from the treetops and into the darkness below, floating as if effected by feather fall – but are unfortunately caught and torn to shreds by Geldan soldiers.

Other soliders swarm the pale elf but he immediately throws his hands up. In Geldan, he calls out to them. Vetnik steps in to protect them. They look at him curiously, thinking him a Moon elf, but he confesses to them that he is an albino Sun Elf. He also confesses that he has allied himself against the Sun Elves due to the love he has for a Geldan. Disgusted, the Geldan escorts the pale Sun Elf and the others back to court. Perched on his throne made of collected refuse, Alkanost addresses the Sun Elf in his native Jen’Ma’Karian tongue – much to the surprise of the party. The pale elf informs Alkanost that he is called Morgrave and that since boyhood, has not agreed with the stance taken by his people against the Geldan. As he came into manhood, he fell for a Geldan, a crow woman, and while the affection was not returned, it did little to dissuade him in his support of the Geldan. Alkanost buys the elf’s sincerity and he shows mercy on Morgrave. Thom translates to the others. For his duty to his kingdom, Alkanost awards Morgrave with an honorary title and sanctuary in Mi’pa’ke (much to the chagrin of Ahriman.)

Vetnik interjects and reminds Alkanost of why they have come to Kellagha. Lyssa relays Dablova’s vision to the audience of Geldan about the united armies of Sun and Moon elves under the banner of the Black Rider, which seems to shock the court. Alkanost even acknowledges a knowing of the Black Rider. Nithail confirms the tale told to be true. Alkanost informs the party of the Black Rider’s troops movements towards as he has had spies scoping out Morgoth. Emperor Alkanost excuses himself while Nithail gives the party a map of the northern ice lands. The Geldan flies those in the party back down to the ground (Ahriman makes a special effort to avoid flying Morgrave down and instead carries Abigail down instead.) Without a tribe to return to, Trisoll urges Morgrave to come with them and assist them on their quest to find the leader of the Circle of Bones.

The party decides to continue onwards towards the hoard before heading to Vaernyn. Moira and Thom inform Morgrave of the history of her brother and their reasons for coming to Kellagha. On the ride, Lyssa asks Morgrave more about his history, but is hesitant to reveal anything other than what he’s already admitted in court. In attempting to read his mind, Lyssa surges once more and inadvertently heals the party as a whole. She plays it off as a show of good faith though, and though Morgrave thanks her, he does let the party know that he will share more when he is ready.

On their guard shift, Moira confides in Vetnik that she thinks highly of Morgrave despite Abigail’s vocal distrust and knows him to be good intentioned. Eavesdropping, Morgrave lets them know that he would be more comfortable with a democratic vote keeping him in the party. The warriors agree to the vote, saying they will hold it in the morning (but that he has both their votes.)

While camping, Trisoll and Lyssa bond over the previous battle and how much they miss Greyhawk. At Lyssa’s urging, Trisoll confronts Abigail, waking her from her sleep, and continues to question Abigail as to why she specifically wanted to bed him. Their heated discussion wakes the others and with mounted pressure, Abigail reveals that she chose Trisoll because she knew he had affection towards her and thought him an easy means of bearing a child to be parented between her and her lover, Maja.

On the way to the hoard, the party ends up riding through foggy flatlands. Amidst the fog, they encounter a pair of wights. Trisoll successfully turns them and they retreat into a nearby cavern. Carrying out her holy duty, Moira charges after them and the others follow. They slay the pair, but another wight appears but is dealt with quickly.

View

DEC/2015

Upward Bound

WORK IN PROGRESS…

While picking the gems out of the muck, Abigail pulls out two of her stones of communication and speaks into them.

“Thank Paladine!” she exclaims, “I love you.”

Abi finds out that Maja’s sight has been fully restored and that she is safe. In addition, the Royal house of Borman has offered a regiment of men one thousand strong to assist in the bringing of Malia Dane to justice. Apparently, the Galdeen family had owed Maja a debt it now intends to repay.

Lyssa reveals to Abigail and the party her vision: Abigail and Maja together on the front lines against an unseen enemy on a battlefield of black ice. Abi tells them of the northern lands of Morgoth. Abigail agrees to send scouts to Morgoth, but warns that if Lyssa’s vision is false, she will strike back. Lyssa warns Abigail that if she puts any of her companions in danger, she’ll reprimand her with all of her magic.

They continue to ride to Varnyn and stop in a small hamlet called Swampstaff. At the local tavern, they stop what appears to be a theft of food in progress. The truth is revealed to be much stranger: the food was for a living dog that was where his penis should have been. Lyssa, Vetnik and Trisoll find out after chasing after the man that the man, nicknamed Dog Dick McGirk, was once an adventurer who, but had been put into retirement 7 years prior after his entire party was slaughtered by an evil warlock, was cursed as a sick reminder by having his penis replaced by a living dog. He pleads with the party to save him from his miserable situation. Lyssa calms the dog and steals some if its fur (for investigation on the curse and possible later use) while Trisoll prays to Trithereon to remove the curse. He’s successful and returns the aged hero to his former glory. As a reward, he gives Trisoll a key and the directions to his hoard that he abandoned after losing his last quest.

While the three of them dealt with the strange case of Dog Dick McGirk, a traveling performing troupe stopped at the tavern. One of the performers in particular, an acrobat, takes a fancy to Grum and the pair hit it off, trading drinks and thinly veiled innuendos. The rest of the party packs up and hits the road while Grum lets them know he’ll catch up while he enjoys an evening with the acrobat.

Grum returns to the group after his interlude and finds the party mostly asleep, save for his brother. While they take watch, a brutalized Geldan (bird-man) falls from the forest canopy above, its winged arms broken and hacked. It pleads for healing (via Thom’s comprehend languages) and Trisoll abide, after Moira checks it out for its lack of evil. He reveals himself as Abraxos and tells the party via Thom that he was attacked by assassins from the Jen’mar’ka (sun elves). Abigail informs them that the Geldan and Jen’mar’ka have been war for millennia, both claiming to have been the first race of Kellagha. The party puts it to a vote and they agree to help bring Abraxos back to its nest, knowing that the Jen’mar’ka were a part of the army being raised by the mysterious Black Rider from Dablova’s vision. Together with the help of fly spells, ointments, and agile climbing, they journey under the cover of night to return Abraxos to his nest and to stop the Jen’mar’ka assassins.

View

NOV/2015

Daisy Cutters

WORK IN PROGRESS…

“Our numbers only seem to be growing.”
“The arrival of our ‘fine and esteemed’ friends was not as observed as ours. Perhaps we go back to where you’re staying?”

“I have many loyal men. One of them, Forgus, is not too far away and he’s beyond suspicion,” Captain Borgellis suggested.
Moira nodded in confidence. “Then so be it. Show us the way!”
“I can take those of you who’ve been at court without arousing suspicion, but the rest of you,” Captain Borgellis paused as drunks began to wobble down the alleyway. Lowering his voice and leaning in, he continued, “Come in small groups. Tail us, but stick to the shadows, and no more than a pair at a time!”
With that, Captain Borgellis quickly lead the warriors of the party out of the slums and back towards more civilized parts of Garamondia, where they removed their hoods and played the role of tour guide and tourists. En route, Captain Borgellis showed off what his fine sovereign had established in his own name. Finely carved – if not just a bit garishly ornate – shields bearing Garamond’s coat of arms and monogrammed bricks lead up to the center of the city where the Baron’s estate stood, and off beside it, Garamond Gardens, which kept the Baron’s court suspended in a haze of fragrant ignorance to the rotting tenements that made up the outskirts of his barony. As the warriors wandered off towards Borgellis’ rendezvous point, the Black Brothers (and Grunt) followed yards behind, while Lyssa and Trisoll kept a safe vantage point following them.

Borgellis concluded the warriors’ tour at a small but well-maintained complex in a well-lit neighborhood that sat directly in between the gardens and the slums. The complex featured duplexs in block-long chunks, much in the same manner as Greyhawk (though more humble, and with much less in the way of metal finishings.) As the evening had drawn both moons out and higher into the air, only a few apartments kept their lights on. Borgellis blithely led the warriors to a larger apartment on the lower level, where he heartily knocked on the front door while continuing his spiel about the rapidly developing neighborhood they were currently in.

Large bald mustachioed man (presumably Forgus) leads them into a basement-level chamber. He waits upstairs while the others hatch their plot.

Trisoll opens up to Lyssa about his evening with Abigail, much to her discomfort. She writes it off, citing that he had been treated much in the same manner as he has treated women in the past.

Under the floor of Forgus’ home, the party reveals what happened at the garrison with the dragon as well as the details of their relationship as a traveling party.

Captain Borgellis turned his attention to Moira. “I saw it in your face, at dinner. Your expression told me everything. The principles you have for those in pain, for those under foot. Usually when Baron Garamond shows his favor, even the most iron-hearted knights and wary nobles give under the weight of his flattery. Not you though. This city’s pain was your pain at the feast, and though I could tell you and your friends were doing the best to put on a front, I knew. He has bled this city dry, and it’s time for his reign to come to an end. Please, help us!”

Borgellis reveals a map of the Baron’s elaborate estate. He and Vetnik begin to go over the layout of the estate and the roster of guards. He ensures Vetnik and company that he can have at least 13 men inside, but the rest are Garamond loyalists, whether due to selfishness or obligation. Vetnik proposes that one or more of the loyalists be taken out, whether for the night or off duty more permanently, but Borgellis insists that despite their allegiance, they are still under his command and he wouldn’t have them harmed unless necessary. Thom proposes to hire one of them to act as a guard. Borgellis agrees to allow one of them on the inside to shadow but urges that none can leave without arousing suspicion. Vetnik volunteers under the cover of diplomacy, observing foreign defense tactics.

While the men did their best to figure out a way to infiltrate the estate via the city guard, Lyssa spoke up from the shadowy edges of the basement war room. “Garamond, what are his vices?”
“Vices? His virtues number far less. Food, drink, hunting, gaming, you name it he’s dabbled in it!”
“What about women,” Lyssa asked Borgellis, sauntering out of the shadows and slowly pacing around the table.
“We have women, we have food and drink,” Thom offered.
Borgellis paused and looked down with a soured expression, shaking his head. “It repulses me to even say it out loud, but—“
“Speak it,” Lyssa commanded.
“He fancies… younger—“
“How young,” Lyssa continued to interrogate, wasting no time for dramatic pauses.
“I don’t want to hear this,” Vetnik cried out with a look of disgust at both Lyssa and Borgellis.
“I do! How young?”
Borgellis sighed and took a step away from the table. He lifted his hand off the table and brought it to his side. With another sigh he began to lower it down the length of his torso, stopping just below his hip. Lyssa and the others kept their eyes on him while Vetnik shook his head and groaned, made uneasy by the details. “Too young,” Borgellis hissed!
“So he doesn’t like women at all,” Thom noted.

Lyssa stopped just beside Trisoll, who nervously turned back to see Lyssa looming over him. “Trisoll, be a dear?”
Trisoll furrowed his brow, turning his face to meet Lyssa’s. With a slight lump in his throat, he replied, “um, sure.”

Without further warning, Lyssa placed the palm of her hand firmly against Trisoll’s chest. Staring out at the others, her eyes flared briefly with magical energy before that same scarlet energy suddenly began to crackle around her open hand, flickering before disappearing into the unsuspecting cleric’s torso. She stepped forward and released his chest from her grasp, and the party watched as Trisoll began to wince and jerk as the sparks of arcane energy seeped and disappeared into his body. Trisoll cupped his hand across his mouth, muffling a slight cough, but soon the coughing grew more and more intense. Trisoll ripped his hand away from his mouth and the party watched as dense plumes of opaque, crimson smoke poured out from his mouth and nostrils. Trisoll stood frozen and helpless as the smoke quickly swirled around the entirety of his body as the mage stepped forward, glancing at her work in motion. Soon his entire form was engulfed in it. The party watched in astonishment as he vanished from sight, replaced by a pillar of undulating smoke. Just as fast as the smoke had swallowed him, the Trisoll-sized plume shrunk down to a smaller height and thinner width. Lyssa waved her hand and summoned the crimson smoke into the palm of her hand, where it swirled and vanished in a tiny spark of energy. With the smoke cleared, a foreign body stood in place of the priest. It was that of a small girl, fair-featured and trembling with confusion. Her hair was long and chestnut brown and her face faintly smattered with ginger-colored freckles. Jade green eyes bulged from behind lineless lids, searching the room, pleading for clarity.

“Bloody brilliant,” Thom exclaimed, gawking at the adolescent girl standing before him!
“What the fuck are you doing,” Vetnik cried out, bracing himself in case he would need to handle Lyssa.
“You want to get through to a man like the Baron? You get him through what he lusts for most.”

Trisoll stands around, trying his best not to freak out. Letting Lyssa’s plan sink in, Thom polymorphs himself into a similarly aged young girl. This puts Trisoll at ease, and together they hatch a plan.

“Why me, Lyssa?”
“Because, you’re the only one of us with the ability to keep him quiet. When you silence him, Thom will then… silence him for good.”

The party waits until the following morning to begin picking daisies in the royal gardens. Abigail takes watch over the gardens atop a nearby complex, while the
“You do remember how to skip, don’t you,” Thom goads Trisoll, putting flowers in his companion’s wavy brown tresses. It takes mere minutes before the pair is approached by a tall, wiry man, whose oily features glisten in the early afternoon sun. He tells them the Baron wants a word with them, and the pair follows without hesitation (well, almost.)

Lyssa, placed under an invisibility spell by Thom prior to his own transformation, stakes out the Baron’s estate in anticipation for the girls’ arrival. Abigail darts from one rooftop to another with a better view of the Baron’s bedchamber. There, she signals to Grum and Grunt to take posts nearby should they be needed. Moira stays posted in the baron’s court inside the castle, keeping an open ear and watchful eye for any sign of struggle or danger while touring the grounds. Vetnik takes his post as shadow to one of Borgellis’ men, a guard named Threnn. There the pair makes soldier’s small talk, that is, until Peckish returns with two young girls in tow, leading them up to the Baron’s chambers. Vetnik notices that while most of the men turn a blind eye and do their best to hide their displeasure, Threnn is visibly more upset.

“What’s going on here?” Vetnik asked, watching as Peckish led the pair of young girls up the stairs to his floor.
“It’s really none of your business,” Threnn said with a stony tone.
Vetnik leaned in closer, keeping an eye out for other guards. “Come now.”
As another guard passed out of sight, Threnn’s stoic front began to come down. Biting his lip, he began to reveal, “The Baron has tastes that I find quite offensive,”
“If his tastes are what I think they are, then I’m glad you find them disagreeable.”
“Best to keep it to yourself, lad. Other men around here have big ears, bigger mouths and hungry pockets.” Threnn quickly huffed and puffed out his chest again. Just as quickly, the guard raised his wall back up before doing his round of the floor, leaving Vetnik’s side. Another guard silently took post next to Vetnik and the pair watched as the two girls were hurried down the hall to another set of stairs leading up to the bedchamber. Vetnik’s eyes met theirs and two differing glances were returned. “Traesie” smiled at Vetnik, winking an eye before returning her attention to the path before her; dragging behind her companion, “Trissie” looked up at Vetnik and continued to linger, her expression pained and uneasy.

Trissie and Traesie are escorted to the Baron’s estate by a homely servant named Peckish. He trades the “girls” off for payment and leaves them in the grubby clutches of Baron Garamond. Working as fast as he can to beat the finish of his polymorph self spell, Traesie is quick to tease and pursue the Baron, luring him into a state of calm before striking. Whilst Treasie sits upon the Baron’s uncovered knee, Trissie hurriedly casts silence over the bedchamber, not wanting to waste anymore time than needed. Taking the cue, Treasie lashes out at the Baron with his longsword-turned-daisy but stumbles off his lap. Confused, the Baron stands and immediately realizes he’s been silenced when trying to scold the girl.

Stumbling over the fumbled young assassin, Baron leaped up and rushed towards the chamber door mouthing cries for help. Trissie knew action had to be taken. As fast as her spindly little legs could carry her, she dove into the back of the Baron’s legs, sending him crashing to the ground. Like some strange, mimed battle scene, Trissie grappled the Baron and bound him by the legs between her thin, pale arms. The Baron flailed and hollered for help, but sound was absent with every cry and kick against the wooden floor. Trissie did her best but struggled to keep the portly Baron to the floor, but the overall physical repulsiveness did little to help in her efforts. The coarse yet sweaty of his leg bristled against her smooth cheek and tickled her nose. Using his weight against Trissie, the Baron began to roll himself on his back in an attempt to pin the child and escape. Just as Garamond spread himself open, Traesie took up her daisy once more and with an expert flick of her wrist, sent the flower straight through his putrid and pathetic nob. A geyser of the Baron’s blood began to spurt out, splashing across the floor and, more unfortunately, into Trissie’s hair. The Baron cupped himself but it did little to stop the torrent of blood from squirting between the spaces of his grubby digits. He attempted to lift himself off the ground and crawl towards the door, but the slick of blood beneath him only caused him to slip back down against the wooden floor. With haste, Trissie squirmed her way from out under the Baron and stood back, watching as Traesie slowly ripped the daisy from out of his now-mangled cock. Garamond continued to mime howls of excruciating pain, thrashing more wildly than before, as if made even more terrified by the silence. Outside his chamber he could hear the clicking of bootsteps, the changing of the guard. With one hand, he reached up to Treasie, who loomed over him, his fate now in the hands of what appeared to be his fondest indulgence. Even in those last moments, Garamond couldn’t help but do his best to sate his most base desires. As Traesie kneeled over him, aiming the stem of her daisy mere inches away from his face, the Baron, with one hand still clasped to his gored crotch, stretched out his other. He placed his shivering, bloody hand upon Traesie’s undeveloped chest and tugged at her dress, bearing and gritting his stained teeth as he did so. By reflex, Traesie snatched her flower back and plunged the stem of her daisy into his heaving breast. Treasie watched as Garamond’s face relaxed and slid into deathly placidness. The tension of his neck disappeared as the back of his head slumped to the floor, and small streams of blood trickled from the corners of his mouth, down his chins and into the folds of his neck.

With the Baron slain, Trissie and Traesie, both adorned in blood-covered dresses, look to each other for what to do next. Treasie motions to Trissie to stay by the body while she scopes out the front. As she cracks the door open, an unseen force pushes her back into the room. The door quickly shuts and the pair of girls look around, wondering what force has entered. Trissie drops silence over the room and whispers “who’s here?” Without warning, they feel something grab their shoulders and they’re immediately swept up in a wave of arcane energy, immediately teleported back to the inn.

After a short time, Borgellis goes to check on the Baron. Upon entering, he sees the ghastly murder scene. He takes up the Baron’s coronet, splashes some blood upon his sword, and returns. He gives a rousing speech to the men in his charge, informing them that he has slain the baron and ended his debauched and cruel reign. He tosses the bloodied coronet down the steps as his men erupt in cries of support, while Garamond’s loyalists remain hushed and reserved. Vetnik sighs relief, the perverse plan successfully realized, and after Borgellis’ speech, meets with the Guard Captain. He thanks Vetnik and tells him that while he can’t offer coin in reward, he will give him the service of his men should Vetnik need them.

he rushes back to meet with Moira and together they hurry back to the inn. Traesie returns to

“Though I did not agree with this approach, I cannot argue with its effectiveness. Who dealt the fatal blow?”
“The people of this city,” Thom replied with a bit of a wink.
“No, but who really put an end to him. It couldn’t have been Trisoll!”
“Well, I was the one who had the stomach enough to get close to him, but Trisoll’s role was integral as well.”
“Let me shake your hand then, Thom.”
“Of course.”
“A man like that is the worse kind of scum. I thank you for putting him under the sword.”
“Oh yes! Well, he was fully aware of his fate. We made it quick but not painless.”

Trisoll pleads with Lyssa at first to dispel the magic keeping him trapped in the body of a small girl. The twins poke fun, championing the possibilities of having a child decoy in their party who can also cast prayers. Trisoll then pleads with his fellow party members to convince Lyssa to drop the polymorph spell. Lyssa is resistant at first, coldly enjoying her handy work. Vetnik steps in and asks Lyssa himself.
“Please, Lyssa. Give Trisoll back his form?”
“Fine, because you asked.”
Lyssa waves her hand and the childlike form of Trissie evaporates into red smoke that coils into Lyssa’s palm, revealing the unbloodied and adult Trisoll. He grabs at his own crotch and after confirming his maleness, sighs a sigh of relief.
“Thank you, Lyssa. Next time though, a little warning.”
“Let this week serve to remind you that girls aren’t playthings.”
“Point taken.”
Turning to Abigail, Lyssa fires a barb. “And speaking of lessons learned, perhaps this week could serve as lesson to you to, eh, Abigail?”
Taken aback by her tone, she turns to Lyssa. “Excuse me?”

The pair spar back and forth, with Lyssa calling out Abigail for possibly treacherous behavior and manipulation of Trisoll, much to the rest of the party’s surprise. After a few more barbs traded, and after Trisoll comes clean about their encounter, Abigail and Lyssa go in for a low blows:

“I can’t help it that no one wants to bed you!”
“At least I have two eyes! Can’t say the same for dear ol’ Maja, can we?”
“BITCH!” Abigail growls before bringing the back of her hand across Lyssa’s face. Lyssa buckles to the ground. Turning to the mage hunter with flaring red eyes, she extends her hand and the party watches as energy gathers in her hand before disappearing in a flashing spark of energy. Lyssa looks surprised, knowing her telekinetic spell has surged. Abigail storms out, leaving the rest of the party to discuss the current situation.

Vetnik clams up, upset by Trisoll’s unwillingness to discuss what happened with him first.

As the party retires for the evening in the rundown inn, Vetnik and Moira discuss what happened. She’s able to work through his icy façade and reasons that he feels slighted that Trisoll didn’t open up to him first. She reasons that Trisoll was probably scared of what he might think and that him not saying anything wasn’t a reflection on him directly, but she does urge Vetnik to open up more and be willing to understand that despite this, the two of them are still friends.

Lyssa visits Thom before retiring for the evening, and stumbles upon him writing a new song for the festivities in the morning. She opens up to him about her reasons for distrusting Abigail. She wonders why the warriors are so trusting of Abigail. She cites her own lineage as reason enough to distrust her, knowing that both of them having questionable moral and mental stability in their blood. Thom reasons that they’re impressed by her deeds of valor and the warrior’s ideology, which she has displayed.
“It isn’t that I particularly like Trisoll. I think he’s a pig, but he’s our pig. When he told me what happened, I felt strangely protective of him, even though he’s a dolt.”
Thom ends their conversation with “it’s not our blood that defines us, it’s our actions.”
“Fair enough. I’m going to get her back though,” Lyssa warns, rubbing her jaw.
“I’ll give you a hand if you need it.”

In the morning, the party wakes up well rested despite their humble arrangements. Before departing for the festivities, Lyssa consults the Eye of Modius. Her first vision is that of Abigail, who has rejoined the party after a short absence. They stand together on a battlefield of black ice. At Abigail’s side is her druid lover, Maja, with both eyes intact.

Borgellis has his color guard meet the party and guides them to the city square. The party sees that the partitions that kept the slums from the city’s more affluent center are already coming down and any trace of Garmond already lays in ruin. The townsfolk, poor and well-to-do alike, gather together to celebrate the rechristening of Garamondia as the new city of Freeland. Thom darts through the crowds, banging his drums and singing his latest song “Trissie and Traesie and The Baron’s Daisy”. Carts carrying casks of wine and ale are broken open while food from the baron’s pantry is freely distributed to all. Inoehie the Gnome acolyte stays behind to help establish Celestian’s worship in Freeland. Vetnik and Moira are both awarded the best wooden splint mail armor they can provide, free of charge. (AC 3). Trisoll watches as Peckish is led, bound and masked, to the gallows where he’s hung before an angry crowd. He winces but a strange sense of satisfaction rumbles just beneath his peace-and-love surface. As an aside, Thom finds out that there are nearby territories that are rumored to be occupied by nothing but werebeasts and roam freely due to the lack of silver in Kellagha. They get three more packhorses and stock up on supplies before heading back onto the road to Vearnen.

Three days into their trip, they enter a marsh at dusk where they encounter 15 Muckdwellers, who ambush them. The horde squirts jets of muddy water at the Black Brothers and Trisoll. Grum is temporarily blinded by the ambush, while Grunt and Abigail are bitten by the small, slimy annoyances. As Lyssa goes to spray a trio of Muckdwellers with her burning hands, a surge of telekinetic energy explodes from her hand before it bursts into jets of flames. She hears Abigail cry out and turns to see the mage hunter ripped from her horse and thrown into the mire below. The Muckdwellers rush to attack as Abigail rushes to her feet. Grunt whips out Hank and zaps two magical arrows into a pair of Muckdwellers, killing them. Moira hacks and slays two more Muckdwellers. Vetnik charges and cuts down one more Muckdwellers. Grum wipes the water from his eyes and fires two arrows into two more Muckdwellers just as his brother engulfs another pair with flames from his burning hands. Trisoll attempts to whack at a Muckdweller with his shillelagh, but misses. Thom draws his longsword but misses. The Muckdweller’s attack Grunt, biting into him with their small, pointed teeth. Vetnik yanks at the reigns of Clevene’ and cuts down two more Muckdwellers. Drawing her glass blade, Abigail attempts to strike but misses. Trisoll tries to hit at his target but the Muckdweller proves more nimble than he. Moira slays two more Muckdwellers, with Grum felling the last one with a pair of arrows. Thom dismounts, searches the grounds and happens upon a nearby lair filled with shiny things (type Q treasure.)

View

NOV/2015

Give and Take

WORK IN PROGRESS…

Abigail reveals her last name (Greenray) is an anagram for her real last name, Ygranere. It’s discovered that she is Lyssa’s half sister, and a fellow child of Modius. The party decides not to share this revelation with Abigail.

The party head to Varnyn following the trail of the head of the Circle of Bones, Malia Dane. On the way, the group sets up camp overnight. Abigail seduces Trisoll on their watch, where she (without his permission) finishes him off and takes his seed into her, leaving Trisoll feeling confused.

Back on the road, the party comes upon an outpost being attacked by a red dragon. Using his Arrow of Dragon Slaying, Grum manages to take the dragon down with a single shot. The party is led to the nearby town of Garamondia as guests of honor of the town’s affable patriarch, Baron Garamond. Once in Garamondia, the party is disgusted by the conditions in which most of the populace live — hungry, filthy, and impoverished. A stark contrast to the Baron and his court, who are well-fed and wealthy.

The Baron offered the warriors of the party the finest dinner in his entire barony while the rest of the party, disgusted by the disparity of wealth, seek out an inn to rest at. As Moira leaves the feast, a guard passes her a note, which she tucks between her breasts. The remaining members of the party went through town surveying the destitution (they watched as a man scrubbed off “GARAMOND IS A WHORESON” a wall, his severed hand freshly bandaged and still moist with blood.) They come upon a hole in the wall inn and set up for the night, while the warriors remain as guests of the castle.

“This is repugnant. Deplorable,” Lyssa remarked as she peered out from the window looking down upon the shambling townsfolk. “Remind me why we didn’t just let that dragon raze this squalid hole of a city to the ground?”
“Looks to me like the people had little to do with the way things are done here. Seems like the Baron’s let this place go,” Trisoll replied. “He’s obviously the cause of much of this misery.”
“What’s a better fate: a quick death by dragon fire or a slow agonizing one under the boot of that fat, velvet-covered piece of shit?”
“Unfortunately, Lyssa,” Thom began to interject, “this isn’t the exception, it’s the norm. Most lands aren’t as liberal as Greyhawk.”
“I know,” Lyssa snarled back, backing away from the window and cozying up to a nearby fireplace (or what qualified as one in such a humble setting.) “I’m well versed in the customs of serfdom. Doesn’t make it any easier to stomach.”
“This does seem to be a bit heavy-handed and under balanced. Doesn’t mean we can’t do something nice for these people; maybe even offer a little payback? Perhaps while we’re here we can help set things right?”
Lyssa perked up at Thom’s proposal. She turned to him and saw that familiar mischievous smirk cross his face. Grum casually cleaned his nail beds with the tip of his dagger, nodding in support. Uneasiness crossed Trisoll’s face for a moment, as his eyes bounced from one party member to another, unsure of how this plan might unfold.
“Now, I’m not saying we can do both: find Kr’zzt and rule over a town, making new laws and such. Doesn’t mean we can’t root out some unsavory elements though! What do you have in mind?”
“I’m sure the Baron’s assets aren’t inaccessible. What is he without his money and his people to fund him?”
“Hm. Let’s go for a walk, perhaps we can find some cracks we can slip into.”

Back at the castle, Vetnik laid still in the oversized down-stuffed bed, covering himself in the woven quilts and furs of the barony. Despite his own nobile upbringings, his kingdom and the kingdoms he had visited across the barbarian empires paled in their ornateness. Even Greyhawk’s finest brothels felt considerably less ostentatious. The bedding was a stark contrast to his companions back at the inn, which consisted of little more than straw and feathers bound in soiled cotton on a warped wooden base. There, he waited on his back, almost uncomfortable by the decadence, for his lady to return to their shared chamber. Moira entered, quietly slipping in and quickly pushing and locking the door shut before rushing to their bed. As Vetnik sat up, Moira began to unfurl a small crumbled scrap of paper before him.

“What is it,” he asked.
“This was given to me by one of the guardsmen,” she replied, sitting beside him. The pair glanced down at the note, signed for by the Guard Captain himself, Pardron Borgellis.

“Garamond is corrupt. He needs to go.
Will you help?
Meet me at midnight in the slum.
Wear disguises.
- Pardron Borgellis”

“The Guard Captain?” Vetnik asked, his tone somewhere between wariness and composed. Moira crumbled up the note and placed it back between her breasts, nodding in confirmation as she did so. “We should fetch Abigail then. It’s almost time.”

As midnight neared, both halves of the party moved about the alleys of Garamondia. The streets and walkways leading up to the palace were a study in cleanliness compared to the dank, muck-crusted alleys that veined through the outer slums. No doubt the Baron had commissioned the paths he had to take to be spotless (or else!) The alleys in the slum were mostly unlit, the only light coming from the swill and whore houses that made up most of the evening business. Even the street lanterns here were spaced further apart, and even fewer had been lit. Hacking coughs and infant cries echoed in the night, while the dark silhouettes of suffering bodies writhed against the shadows, reaching out on occasion to tug at a cloak and beg for food or coin. Lyssa and Thom discussed strategy, with both thieves at the forefront and their cleric trailing closely behind, glancing sympathetically at those who crawled and teemed in the alleys in search of comfort.

“What sorts of poisons do you have,” Thom asked Lyssa.
“Belladonna, but only a couple shots.”
“Hmm. Perhaps I could pose as a performer, get close enough to the Baron and spike his wine?”
“Is he better off dead or under our control? I’ve got a domination spell that could set him right.”
“Sure, but do we want to make him a figure to revere or take him out of the picture? While I’m all for having a pocket baron, any charm spell won’t hold forever unless you plan on staying.”
As Lyssa continued to mull over her options, she noticed a trio of cloaked forms ducking into a nearby alley. While one of the figures was of average build, the other two had a larger presence to them, a broadness that seemed too poised to be wallowing in the slums at midnight. Lyssa kept her eyes on the trio and watched as they moved further into the alley. There was something familiar about the walk of the largest figure. Despite its hulking build, it moved lightly and considerately, looking behind and ahead before letting the other two figures move forward. It turned its head just slightly ‘round to check the alley before continuing deeper into the slum. It was then that Lyssa got confirmation.
“I’d know his big, lumbering form anywhere,” she remarked to herself, watching the figures disappear down another alley. Thom paused and turned to Lyssa. She nodded her head down in the direction of the alley where the figures disappeared. Thom subtly motioned to the others to follow him and together they sneaked off after them.

In mere moments, the Black Brothers were on their companions’ bootheels, with Lyssa and Trisoll sauntering up behind. “The plot thickens, eh?” Thom asked them aloud from behind. The trio whipped around, keeping their heads low until seeing the familiar faces of the rest of the party.
“Indeed,” a woman’s voice replied. Turning her hooded head to Thom, he could see the lips of their newest companion, concealed in the shadow of a large hood. The other two figures turned to greet Thom and the others. The pair quickly checked the alley for any other bodies before getting closer. Together they stayed silent and watched over the alley as Abigail continued.
“Moira received a note from the Guard Captain himself, requesting an audience with her tonight.”
“Do you all need back up,” Thom began to ask, “or are we better as shadows?”
“Better to stay close but not too close,” Moira replied softly. “We don’t know much about this Captain Borgellis yet. We first need to see if his motives are as benevolent as I hope them to be.”

Another figure appeared in the alley, cloaked just as the other warriors were. His face covered in a tightly-groomed beard with a red tattooed pattern decorating his cheek. The marking and grooming were familiar sights to Moira, who was first to approach the cloaked man.

“Captain?”
“Yes! Good of you to come, but I was not expecting you to be in such dense company.”
Thom stepped forward, bowing a bit while tugging down at the brim of his hood as if to tip his hat.
“Ho, captain! We are merely wandering merchants and performers, my companions and I. We met these fine warriors on the road to Garamondia. Watched them fell a red dragon we did!”
Borgellis’ turned his head up, inspecting Thom and the others with a narrowed glare. He soon turned that glare to Moira, who glanced back at him before turning to Vetnik.
“They were fine company to have on the road. We can assure you, they are good men, and just,” Vetnik proclaimed while tipping his hood back at Thom.

Captain Borgellis’ gaze relaxed as Thom finished his formal introduction. “Then I’m sure you’ve already seen the depths of poverty my people wallow in.”
“Clearly,” Vetnik chimed in.
“My other men, the ones from the garrison, they confirm that you slayed a dragon with a single arrow. It was a sign from the gods. My people’s desperate cries have been answered. You are their hope! What the Baron has taken from them must be returned to them.”
“Which is?”
“Everything. The food, the production—“
“What do you suggest?”
“Not all the men are loyal to him. Many of their families live in these slums.”
“If we get rid of him, who will ensure that a greater despot doesn’t take his place?”
“In my mother and father’s day, these slums were once places of trade, of proud artisans and makers. Since birth, I have only known these outskirts as they are, and they have only continued to plunge deeper into decay as I’ve grown older, as Garamond continues to gouge the remaining bits of hope from here. If you help us unseat Garamond, I will see to it myself that resources and wealth are redistributed. Evenly, fairly, as my forefathers intended.”

View

OCT/2015

A Circle Broken

WORK IN PROGRESS…

After defending themselves against the slow-crawling danger of a grey ooze, the company from Greyhawk continue their journey through the underground passages beneath the abandoned village of Melgas.

They come upon a room locked by yet another stone door barred by one yet another complex lock. It’s a lock so complex that it proves to be too intricate for both of the party’s thieves (Grum and Grunt) to disarm.

“Do you have something like a knock spell memorized,” Grum asked his brother.
Thom sighed and shrugged his shoulder. “Lyssa, how about you?”

Lyssa rifled through her spellbook and thumbed quickly back and forth between the pages, muttering under her breath about the unstable torchlight. As she struggled to find an appropriate spell and the others gathered behind her, Abigail approached the door. A soft metal tick echoed gently through the chamber followed by the creek of the hinges of the stone door moving open.

“Now, is that what you were trying to do,” Abigail asked, looking back at Lyssa smugly.
Lyssa clapped her book shut and fired back, “I reserve my power for less vulgar displays…”
“Hmph. That took no display of power.”
“Thank you!” Vetnik interjected, looking to diffuse the catty banter.
“It’s no trouble. Good to know my talents are appreciated. I find it in my best interest not to play all my cards at once.”
“Smart of you not to,” Vetnik compliments.
“Nevertheless, the obstruction has been removed, do we wish to proceed,” Abigail asks.
“Um, yes. Scouts, take point!” Thom directs, curious as to how their Kellaghaian companion was able to dismantle the lock herself.

Grum and Grunt take their points and enter into through the door that empties into a 15ft. hallway. Along the way, Grum just barely catches sight of a small trigger in the floor. He reaches out his arm and blocks his ward from stepping on it and crouches to the ground to disarm it. It is a trigger for a gas trap that would have filled the hall with some unknown noxious gas.

They continue ahead and reach a fork. They continue onwards 30ft before coming across another fork. The scouts venture back to the main room and meet with the others, reporting back their findings. As Grum reports their findings, Abigail softly closes her eyes and slips into a state of deep concentration. Her breathing controlled, she stays silent for a moment. The others turn and watch, baited by the trance.

“West.” She whispers.
“Which West,” Thom begins to ask, “West North? West South?”
Abigail exhales with a sigh, opening her eyes again and shaking her head unknowingly.

The scouts turn to each other and discuss which direction to take for a moment, before settling on taking the SW path. They continue down it before coming upon another sturdy wooden door, unlocked. After Grum examines the door and finds no traps, Thom places his pointed ear against the door and holds it there for a couple beats. Nothing, at first, but just as he begins to pull his ear away, something catches him off guard. He presses his ear against the door again, this time at a different point closer to the ground. He can hear the sound of something shambling across the stone floor. A slow and labored shuffle. He raises his hand and signals that there is noise behind the door. He gently tugs at the door and realizes its swollen and stuck. He steps away and motions to Vetnik and Moira, pointing at the door. The pair nod and step to the front. Abigail, anticipating a fight, steps up to the front beside the warriors. Moira and Abigail give each other a look of support before each of the women draws their glass blades. Vetnik grips the handle of the door and with a single push, shoulders the door open.

The room beyond is large and rectangular, its floors decorated with alternating black and white painted stones (like that of a chess board.) Vetnik looks up from the floor just in time to see a pair of ragged corpses step out of the shadows into the radius of his torchlight. The ghouls are different from the ones encountered in the past. Their bodies appear preserved, their skin dried and tanned like leather. They look up to reveal thinly stretched skin receding from a horrid grimace. Their emaciated bodies are bound and draped in old linen wraps, each row of them painted with innumerable arcane symbols. Their dry, throaty hissing barely echoes throughout the chamber as they jerk towards the party, reaching out their death-black hands to grab. Jarred, Vetnik quickly stepped back and drew out his glass blade.

“MOVE,” Lyssa cried out to those on the frontlines! The three warriors turned back and saw Lyssa’s outstretched hand and the familiar red glow of magic in her blackened eyes. The party split down the middle, they watched as a small orb of swirling fire materializes in the palm of her hand and zips past them, exploding with an intense radius as it passes the party and enters the room. The mummies recoil at the burst of flame, but when the fire is absorbed back into the space, they remain, standing at the party.

“SSSSSSSAAAAAAA,” the mummies hiss in retaliation, their eyes and mouth burning with a flash of eerie green energy! While the fireball was potent, their undead resolve proves stronger than expected. Suddenly, the party hears the panicked shuffling of boots against the ground, fleeing from the scene. They turn and see Grunt running, Hank in hand, from the battle.

“FUCK THIS!” Grunt howls, turning tail.

Moira returns her attention to the undead before her and calls out to her patron. “In Cortox’s name, I turn thee!” The mummies howl once more, screeching with even more anger. With her prayer unanswered, she goes into direct action, swinging her glass blade twice. The creatures jerk their bodies at the waist away from the paladin’s sword, their loosely wrapped bodies betraying an unnatural agility. Thom continues to lurk in the back of the party, drumming for support. The noise only seems to drive the creatures into more of a frenzied state, as they rush the party head on. One attempts to grab at Grum but quickly steps back, evading its touch. Abigail is less fortunate, however. The second mummy grips her right knee and with all of its supernatural might, crushes in its hand, shattering the bones beneath.

Abigail retches herself from its grip, and falls to the ground gritting her teeth and cradling her leg. She quickly retrieves a wooden dagger from her artillery and places it between her teeth as she skids out of the room, back into the hall. Grum slinks past Abigail and enters into the room, ducking into the side shadows. Drawing his electric daggers, he angles himself behind them and goes in for the backstab with Lyn drawn. He sticks it the blade into the back of the mummy, in and out with quickness. While the others fend off the pair of undead, Trisoll races to the aid of the injured mage hunter.

“Please, let me—“
“Get your fucking head back in the fight,” Abigail barks at the cleric, spitting out her dagger while quickly digging into her pouches. He scrambles back into action, shaken by her tone, and shuts his eyes. He holds his holy symbol with shaky hands up to his chest and mutters a chant, blessing the party.
As Trisoll bestows the blessing, Abigail removes her hand from her wounded knee and finds the skin covered in black, oozing rot inching its way up her thigh. She retrieves a small jar filled with a thick, herb-green paste from her pouch. She tears away the blooded fabric surrounding her knee and scoops a hefty dollop onto the wound, frantically massaging it up and down the blackened area of infection.

Back in the room, Vetnik takes up arms and swipes his blade at the bodies of the mummies, cutting through their sigil-marked rags and tearing through the thin yet tough flesh of their bellies, shedding murky black sludge. From the hallway, Abigail notices the sound of drumming sounding near her suddenly stops. She looks up and sees a fiery hand begin to materialize above her, beginning with. As the hand releases a jet of flame, the glow from the jet illuminates the rematerialized body of Thom (much to her surprise.) The flame jet completely engulfs one of the mummies and they watch as its body collapses onto the ground. Flames from the burning hand whips at the second mummy, causing it to recoil. As it tries to save itself from the flames, Grum takes Lyn and Slå and sticks the thing in its belly before ending it’s un-life with a blade up through its jaw, severing whatever remains of a spinal cord.

Abigail calls out to Trisoll with a shivering command, “you, cleric!”
Trisoll quickly rushes to her side and begins to look over the salve-coated rot covering her knee. She nods at him, granting him the permission to lay hands on her. He does as he’s asked, and in his intimate way, wrapping his arms around her. His embrace his healing, and almost immediately she can feel the searing infection retreat. “Thank you for thinking of me, boy,” Abigail begins to whisper, “but in the heat of battle, do not take your eyes off of the enemy.”
“Oh, ok. I won’t,” Trisoll promises before releasing her from his healing hug. They look down and inspect the wound together. Both the bleeding and the rot have seemed to stop, but her bones remain broken. “We need to set your leg. Vetnik!”
While the others sack the room, Vetnik (accompanied by Moira) help tend to the wounded magehunter.

Trisoll kneels beside Vetnik and guides him through the geography of the wound. He shows the barbarian prince where and how best to use his strength to realign the bones.
Vetnik looks to Abigail and quips, “you may want that dagger again,” nodding to the wooden dagger beside her.
She quickly takes it up off the ground and grits it between her teeth once more as he places his hands around her leg. Abigail watches as Vetnik quickly jams the bones back into place as best he can. She seethes with tension as he does so, biting down harder into the dagger than she had been. A muffled popping sound signifies his success. Moira quickly hands over what bandages she can and Trisoll quickly wraps the area taught.
“Try to go easy on it from here on out,” Trisoll warmly suggests.
“Do you wish me to carry you?” Vetnik asks.
“No, that won’t be necessary,” Abigail says, rebuffing his offer. “We should continue.”
“Don’t worry about her, I’ve got this.” Trisoll says, helping Abigail back to her feet.

In the corner of the room, Thom spies a sarcophagus, open and large enough for the two bodies to share. Its exterior is carved in deathly images and inlaid with runes matching the ones decorating the dressings of the mummies. A brass plaque is inlaid at the head of the coffin, upon which a relief is carved.

“Do you still feel evil in here,” Thom asks Moira.
Moira nods as they move towards the coffin together.
Grum searches the door of the sarcophagus for traps and finds none. Thom points out that there appears to be a small panel inside against the back. Grum examines it and it takes little time for him to deduce a trigger. Before Grum reaches in closer to disarm, the hurried footsteps of another enter the room. All turn to see Grunt standing in the threshold, his hood covering most of what must be an embarrassed expression across his face, as well as Hank down at his side.

“So pleased you could join us,” Grum says mockingly.
“Let’s never speak of what happened tonight.” Grunt replies.

Grum looks at the trapped panel and back at his ward. “Well, now that you’ve returned, how’s about you give this trap a try?”

Grunt sheaths his bow and complies without a word. He rushes up to the sarcophagus, he lifts his hood just enough to allow for better vision. He moves in and skillfully removes it. Removing a trigger pin, the panel opens to reveal a hidden compartment. He finds first a series of viles, each containing what appear to be thousands upon thousands of dully-colored spores. A diabolical trap that, had it not been so easily disarmed, would’ve released the spores onto any poor soul nearby, spreading its bacterial ruin. Beyond them, he finds tucked away a deck of handmade cards, a small metal flask, and a strange orb inlayed with foreign symbols. Thom looks them over in the torchlight while Lyssa rejoins the party, waving her hand across the objects. She alerts the party that all objects radiate magic.

“I’m not sure what the orb could be,” Thom begins, passing the orb to his brother. Opening the flask, a slight and clean scent escapes. Thom quickly takes a whif and reports, “but this flask appears to be a Philter of Feather Fall. And these cards are not merely playing cards, but a Deck of Chance.” Lyssa’s curiosity is visibly piqued, as she reaches out and grabs at the deck to examine more closely.
“You be careful with those things,” warns the bard. “From what I can recall from the Book of Marvelous Magic, those can do you just as much harm as they can good.”
“Just as long as they can’t do us harm, let her have the bloody things.” Vetnik chimes in.
Lyssa rolls her eyes at the barbarian and saunters over to the mummies’ bodies while Thom bestows the pfilter to Grunt and the mysterious orb to his brother. Lyssa severs and takes a mummy’s hand but finds nothing else on them beyond burned, rune covered rags. She pilfers through them trying to discern a meaning, but the symbols are foreign to her – no doubt some kind of necromantic spell to animate the dead. She tears a strip for later research.

WARNER’S COVENANT KILLED 17 GOBLINS HERE is scrawled across the eastern-most wall. There are four more exits in the room – three doors and an archway. Recalling Abigail’s earlier advisement, they continue through to door heading West. Neither noise nor trap is detected on this door. They find the wooden door just as swollen as the last door opened, if not moreso. Vetnik repeats and pushes his way through. Waiting for them is a short hallway with several archways lining the walls and a dead end, as well as a single door. Vetnik motions for Grum, who leads them down to check the halls.

The brothers examine the door according to protocol and hear nothing, nor are any traps found. The simple wooden door is swollen. Tiring of the warped doors, Vetnik takes the opportunity to take out his aggravation by kicking the door all the way in this time. The door falls to the ground and reveals unlit living quarters. Torchlight reveals furniture and chests smashed to pieces; bed linens and clothing litter the ground, shredded. Desks are opened, emptied, and overturned. Grum notices that the razing of the room appears to be recent, as no film of dust seems to cover the refuse. Bodies (and blood) are visibly absent. Across the room is a door and receded into the wall is another portcullis.

“Do these robes look familiar to you at all, Abigail,” Thom asks, poking at the ruins with the tip of his scabbard.
“Yes. These cloaks belonged to the cultists from the Circle. They’ve been torn to shreds, but I don’t see any blood.”
Grum takes a cue from Abigail and lifts his gem of seeing from out under his own tunic and begins to examine the room. He finds no sign of blood in the room either.

Thom and Vetnik move past portcullis and to the door. Thom barely places his ear against it before hearing the sound of something strange gurgling and grunting behind it. As Thom listens, his brother is quick to find a trap on the door. Grum disarms the trigger (that of another gas trap) and just as quickly unlocks the door. The pair back away and turn to each other and then the party.

“Warriors first, or do we try to get the ambush?” Thom asks.
“Moira and I will take the lead. Abigail, you ought to stay back.”
“I’ll be fine,” Abigail replies, attempting to steady herself against Trisoll. Realizing that her injury may prove a liability, she silently agrees to fall back behind the warriors and thieves, but is adamant about keeping in front of the spellcasters.

Just as Moira and Vetnik burst through the door, they enter to find… silence. As the party enters the room, the robed body of a young woman comes into sight. The torchlight flickers against the pool of blood congealing beneath her, ebbing from an almost-freshly sliced throat. Her eyes stare up towards the ceiling blankly while her arm lies lifeless over her head. A wooden mace lays just inches away from her hand. Abigail pushes past the thieves and warriors and surveys the body. The robe is identical to the shredded ones found on the floor of the living quarters they just arrived from. Beyond illuminated area, the twins notice something in the distance. Grum puts his gem of seeing back to his eye and it reveals a mound of gem chips piled up against the wall. As he passes the gem across the room, he sees three strange hulking forms pressed against the wall. Their bodies seem to camouflage against the stone brick of the room. He notes that these beings appear almost headless, their torsos coming to a slight point and decorated with three eyes surrounding the headless neck. Pressed against the wall, he notices their long, sinewy arms and the talons ending each finger. The strange forms of the creatures rest on three stout legs, thick, not unlike that of an elephant’s. Grum lets out a soft whistle and begins to back away towards the door, causing the others to slowly do the same while peering ignorantly into the dark perimeter.

“2 o’clock, 8 o’clock, and 10 o’clock.” Grum mentions, before backing out of the room.
“What is it?” Abigail asks as she begins to slide her blade from out of its scabbard.
“Against the wall, strange creatures. Headless with three arms and three legs.”
“I’ve heard stories about these creatures. Xorn they’re called. Neither fire nor frost are said to do harm their stonelike bodies.”
“That knocks out two of my elemental contributions” Lyssa moans.
“Wait, what if we smoke them out with fog. Send out blind fighters in to cut whatever these xorn are while they’re still in hiding and—“
Before Thom can finish, Trisoll interjects. “Wait. I’ve got it! When I say strike, I need you all to do so quickly and heavily.”
Thom looked at Trisoll, curious and intrigued by his confidence. The party steps aside and makes way for the cleric.

Trisoll enters the dark chamber, his heart racing. He takes a deep breath, clenching his holy symbol in hand. His eyes flooding with a soft white glow, he shuts them and releases a radius of faint white light that coats the walls of the room and the things that cling to the shadows. “NOW!” Trisoll cries out, and the party rushes in on his command. They enter and watch as the hard stone of the wall and the creatures begins to soften and drip, slowly transforming into dense mud.

Grunt rushes in with Hank drawn and rapidly fires off two energy bolts into the positions outlined previously by Grum. The first bolt strikes, causing one of the xorn to screech and step out of the shadows. The second arrow zips into the left arm of the thing, exploding in a burst of mud-flesh and crackling energy. Trisoll continues to concentrate his power on the walls of the room and begins to harden the mud back to large, jagged rocks of stone. The stone spikes pierce the backs of the remaining pair of xorn, forcing them off against the wall and towards the center of the room. Before they can swarm Trisoll, Vetnik rushes in with blade drawn, hacking at each of the beasts and keeping them at bay. From the doorway, Abigail retrieves a small orb from one of her pouches and tosses it to the far end of the room. Upon colliding with the floor, the orb busts open and unleashes a spray of small, metal shrapnel pieces, which fly and pierce the flesh of the lumbering xorn. Lyssa steps forward, revealing the thin wand of Lightning to unleash a forked lightning bolt from its metal-plated tip. The bolt surges through the body of one of the xorn and she watches as the top of its torso opens up to reveal a gaping maw rimmed with rows of jagged teeth and a large, bulbous tongue whipping wildly back and forth. With a bellowing cry, the strange earthen creature slumps to the ground with a great thud as the smell of charred earth fills the room. A second, thinner bolt surges forth from the wand and connects with a second nearby xorn, though its intensity paled to that of the first bolt. Grum quickly follows up with a pair of arrows from his longbow, firing both into the freshly electrocuted xorn. The first zips across the room and sticks firmly into the torso of the thing. The xorn reaches out with its trio of hands but fails to retch the arrow from out of its body. Before it can get a firm grasp, Grum lets loose a second arrow, pinning its hand to its own torso and slaying the beast. With one xorn standing, Thom leaps in with his longsword drawn and chops at the creature. The xorn manages to grab at Thom’s arm as he strikes and bites into it. Before it can dig its teeth too deep, Thom yanks his arm and sword away and regains his footing.

Trisoll opens his eyes and stumbles back, unable to keep the transmute spell. The melting hide of the xorn returns to its original, hardened form. Grunt takes aim at the last xorn standing and fires another pair of arrows. The creature howls as the first arrows collides into its belly with a show of sparks, while the second fizzles against the wall behind it. Moira dives in, cutting at the beast twice before it can seize her weapon. Abigail limps further into the room, raising her glass blade. She brings the blade down into its mouth and jams it deep into its throat. The xorn attempts to shut its mouth, but chokes on the blade before it can do so.

6750ep
9000sp

The party searches the body of the cultist under the supervision of Abigail, but find nothing on her. Lyssa examines the dead xorn and salvages a dead eye from one of the corpses. After collecting the horde of gem chips, they continue west until they come upon another fork with two archways. The scouts lead the party up the second, heading NE.

“Watch your step!” Grunt says sternly back to the others. He notices on the ground a fine wire stretched just inches above the floor, reaching from one wall to the other at the end of the hall. He follows the string up to the roof, where peaking out from the slits in the stone ceiling, he sees the faint glint of large metal blades meant to cleave any unfortunate soul who happens upon this hall into pieces. Grunt continues down the hall to find… nothing, a dead end. He motions tags his mentor and the pair return to join the party.

The scouts lead the party down the southern archway, which twists north and forks into a door and a second passageway. They approach the door first, checking for traps and noise. Neither is found, and the lock appears unused. Opening the door, the faint smell of extinguished flames waft from a nearby fireplace across the room at the east wall beside another door. The walls are smooth stone, undecorated except for the few torches fixed to the wall – one of the few chambers that the party has found to be illuminated. The floor is a spiral of black, polished marble tiles and in the center of the vortex. Grum enters and heads east to inspect the fireplace. Upon inspection, his senses are arrested by the foul stench of scorched meat. He takes a closer look, poking at a large blackened lump with his dagger. Turning the lump over, the sight and smell jar him.

“I found something.”

The rest of the party enters the silent room and sees Grum hunched around the fireplace, poking at it and visibily disgusted by something within.

“What is it?” Vetnik asks as he approaches.
“Looks to be a heart. Human sized,” he answers, reluctantly continuing to poke at the burned refuse. After knocking it away, he sees a mound of ash piled up deeper inside. He clears the mound of ash and reveals a medium sized chest set into the floor of the fireplace. Grum clears the lock of ashen remains and examines it for any possible traps. Finding none, he successfully picks the chest open. Inside it, he finds the following gems loose inside:

3 Aquarmarines
1 Black pearl
1 Chrysophase
2 Citrine
1 Coral
2 Deep blue spinels
1 Deep green spinel
1 Hematite
1 Golden yellow topaz
1 Jet
1 Malachite
1 Obsidian
1 Pink pearl
1 Rich purple corundum
1 Sordinyx
1 Star rose quartz
1 White pearl
1 Tourmaline

While Grum scoops the contents into his bag of holding, Thom presses ahead with Grunt, and the pair examines the door nearest to the fireplace. After hearing no sound and finding neither trap nor lock barring them from entering, Grunt opens the door to reveal a most macabre chamber. On the eastern wall is a gargantuan stone relief of a human skull; on the opposite side of the room, the wall is inlayed with a series of runes like those seen decorating the dressings of the mummies. They cast an eerie glow that tints the chamber blood red. In the southern corner are strange mounds of what appear at first glance to be freshly melted wax, the shine of which reflects in the crimson glow of the chamber. Opposite the blobs stands a tree, its roots reaching out over the tiled ground but not embedded into the floor. It’s bark is pristine save for a series of small yet numerous gashes across the trunk and limbs. High in the trunk of the tree, the scouts are able to make out what appears to be a hole, bored deep past the bark and leaking a dark fluid. Grum places his gloved fingertips to the liquid and inspects it in the red light. It’s dark and thinner than any sap he’s seen. Putting it to his nose, he takes one whiff and recognizes it.

“It’s blood,” he exclaims, “this tree is… bleeding!”

As he reaches for his gem of seeing to inspect the tree, Abigail cries out, frantically limping past the others towards the tree. “Maja?” she cries out, collapsing against the trunk. She begins to slap and swat at the bark, calling out the name of her missing lover. “Maja? Maja, I’m here! You’re safe now! Maja!”

The party watches as the branches and the leaves begin to shiver. The leaves flutter off the branches and as they descend, swirl around the tree. The bark quickly begins to peel itself back away from the body of the tree and absorb into itself, reveal at first the lithe arms of a woman. The unwrapping bark descends down to the roots, revealing more and more features of the woman. Her fair skin is seen marred by dirt, bruises and small, bloodied cuts; the leaves flutter down and change from green to red, crowning the woman with a head of fiery auburn hair. The wounded bark tears away to reveal a face, and where the wound is revealed as the woman’s eye socket. The bark and roots disappear and the woman collapses into Abigail’s waiting arms.
“What have they done to you,” Abigail asks the woman resting against her chest. She takes off her cloak and quickly drapes it over the woman’s body.

Abigail pleads with the healers of the party, the first show of vulnerability from the otherwise stern magehunter. “Trisoll, please! Please, help her!”
Trisoll and Moira both rush to the wounded druid, each pressing themselves against her shivering, cloaked body while chanting in the names of their patrons. As the pair prays for healing, Maja pleads with her lover. “Do not look upon me,” she whimpers, reaching to cover her still bleeding eye socket.
“I would love you if they had taken half of your face, now tell me who did this so I may exact my vengeance.”
“Her name is Malia, she was the leader of the Circle. She had taken my eye as punishment after a follower remarked a resemblance her and I, then took out of the eye of the follower and used both in some kind of ritual. She… she kept me here, bled with me knives and leeches, using my blood for whatever rites the Circle were carrying out.”
“What else happened here? We found one of the cultists with her throat cut open.”
“Malia, she—“ Maja continues, choking up as she recalls the memory, “she went on a rampage through the lair. After communing with a man, a night elf with an accent I’ve never heard before, Malia went mad and released the monsters they had been keeping down here to experiment upon. She unleashed them upon her followers. Those that weren’t slain by them she cut them down herself! ”
“So the creatures down here weren’t natives. They were prisoners?” Vetnik asks.
“Yes, just as I was. After Malia slew the first of her followers here she fled and in her absence I quickly changed myself into a tree in hopes that I could heal myself somehow and avoid any wandering monsters.”
Vetnik’s ears perk at the beginning of her description of the aforementioned night elf. Moira opens her eyes and lets Trisoll take over the healing. The pair of warriors look to each other, a sinking feeling of dread begins to weigh heavily down in their gut.
“Please, continue,” Moira beseeches the druid, taking Vetnik’s hand into hers.
“He was not here physically, but a projection of him. In it, he wore a suit of armor crafted from metal, black and decorated in strange runes. He was like no other night elf I’ve seen before. His eyes burned with a hatred when he spoke to Malia, but not hatred for her, but for something else. I’m not certain, I could not make out what they were discussing.”
Moira speaks up, asking Maja to confirm details of the night elf’s face. She begins to describe a face in particular: the slope of its brow, the part of its long, white hair, the hook of his nose and his devious grin. “Yes, yes that was him,” Maja confirms.
“You know this night elf,” Abigail asks, turning to Moira. Vetnik moves forward and whispers a name into her ear. “I do not know this name.”
“If it’s who I think Vetnik thinks it is, then we’re dealing with a very unpleasant character,” Thom chimes in.
“Explain,” Abigail barks, pressing Maja closer to herself.
“Where we come from, this night elf is called a Drow. He’s also known to be quite an arse.”
“He’s also very powerful.” Vetnik interjects.
“Well if he is aligned with Malia, he will die too.”
“They’ll all die, this I can assure you,” Vetnik says grimly.
“He was an agent for some nefarious deities long ago. We thought he no longer posed a threat until recently, but it appears he’s back up to his old tricks again.”
“Deities,” Abigail asks, shocked that Malia could be able to commune with an avatar.
“Who does the Circle worship?”
“Death. The Circle of Bones worships only that which destroys. They’re magi, necromancers who believe that through death they can gain power over the realm. I do not know who this Kr’zzt is or what his connection would be to them, but if he is in congress with Malia and the Circle, death may only be the beginning of what they have planned.”
“If it’s death he wants, it’s death he’ll get.” Vetnik snarls.
“Well, before that, perhaps we should inspect the rest of the lair, see if there aren’t any other clues or something as to what Kr’zzt may be up to.” Thom reasons.
“Is it not obvious? He’s trying to get back into Lolth’s favor!” Vetnik says aloud, announcing a name that foreign to Abigail and Maja .
“Sure, but she cast him out in a big way. Not to mention, I’m sure there are other death gods here,” Thom counters.
“Maybe he’s trying to get in higher graces with one of them? Who knows, maybe he’s looking to supplant Lolth by making allies of the dark forces here in Kellagha,” says Moira. “He is certainly brazen enough to try!”
“Hm. No doubt, the dark forces on our side of the Flanaess are wary to cross Lolth, maybe he thinks he can find allies here.” Thom continues to reason.
“Flanaess? Lolth? What in blazes are you going on about,” Abigail cries out.
“Oh, Flanaess? It’s regional, just what we call the planet.” Thom informs.

Vetnik wanders away from the group, frustrated by the seeming lack of urgency the party has, and attempts to cool his temper by searching through the remnants in the room. He comes across the strange, waxy blobs littering the floor. He jabs at one of them with the tip of his blade and as it he cuts through it, the blob oozes out a semi-clear viscous fluid. He kneels down for a closer look and finds that the strange slime is laced with pieces of hair. Using his sword, he cuts deeper into the mound and releases more of the ooze, thicker and murkier than that which ebbed before. A deathly scent shots up from the hole made, and before Vetnik cuts any deeper, he watches as small teeth lace the stream of slime, followed by a human eye. He realizes that these mounds are not mere wax, but jellied human remains. He chokes slightly on the scent and returns to the others.
“These… these things were once men? What kind of magic reduces a man to a mound?”
“Malia did this with a spell she received from this Drow you speak of.”
“It’s good craftsmanship, this spell,” Lyssa remarks coldly, kneeling down over the oozing mound, scooping up a portion of it into an empty flask. “Perhaps when we get somewhere more civilized, I can break down what kind of magic was able to do this.”
The party collectively shivers at the morbid sight before continuing to question Maja.

“Do you know where this Malia’s chambers are?”

Maja outstretches out her arm and points to the relief of the skull carved into the wall. “There.”
The scouts move to the skull and enter its mouth where they find a door. Though Grum fails, it is Grunt who manages to unlock the door. The door is odd in its make: with a lock at the base securing it to the floor, Grunt and Grum work together to slide the door up into the roof of the skull’s mouth. Behind it lays a 40ft hallway leading to a second, more traditional wooden door. The scouts call upon Vetnik to shoulder the door down, who obliges. They enter into what appears to be a magician’s laboratory. Every visible piece of equipment smashed and shattered on the ground. Tomes of magical texts shredded, burned, and doused with water. A pair of cultists lay dead on the ground covered in debris, their tunics marked by stab wounds and covered in blood. Thom finds a pile of scraps from a scroll, the runes of a foreign language still semi-visible, and pockets them for later inspection. They exit the room and return back to the main chamber.

“Out of duty, I will remain down here with you all as you wish, but I must get Maja out of here,” Abigail implores.
“Well, we can either clear out one of these rooms and set up a safe camp, or—“
Thom stops and begins to watch as Abigail retrieves a pair of identical stones from her belted pouches. Putting one to her ear and the other to her lips, she begins to speak. “We are beneath Melgas,” she begins, apparently holding a one-sided conversation. “We found Maja… yes, the Circle of Bones. All except Malia are slain. I need you to take her to safety. Meet us here, and make haste!”

“What about you,” Maja whimpers as Abigail lowers the stones from her face.
“You need not worry over me. I owe these people an incredible debt of gratitude. They helped me find you. If not for them, I— the woman who did this to you who must pay.”
“It was not just I, my love. Mandrake, he—“ Maja struggles to explain before breaking down into tears once more. “He too came here to rescue me, but… but Malia, he—“
“He taught me everything I know,” Abigail says, mourning the loss of her mentor. Snapping back to the present, she urges, “you must go with Perdal and Roiman. They will be here soon! They will keep you safe.”

Abigail lifts Maja up and adjusts the cloak draping her injured lover, making sure to secure her decency. While doing so, the sight of Maja’s injuries once again puts Abigail in an angered state. “Now, you all tell me everything you know about this Kr’zzt!”
“We will in due time. For now, we should look and see if there are any other clues to his whereabouts. I promise you’ll get your vengeance on the Circle. “
“You keep your word then, and I promise I will do whatever in my power to help you take down this Kr’zzt. Vengeance is my only recourse here, he and Malia’s blood will be shed.”
“Fair enough,” Thom begins, “but our quest is more than just mere vengeance.”

2:11

Abigail offers Lyssa the use of her communication stones in exchange for her debt to her being paid. Lyssa laughs the offer off, citing her own telepathic magic abilities. Angered, she gives them to Thom instead.

Thom reveals to Abigail the truth about their quest: that they come from Greyhawk and are on the hunt for Kr’zzt, with whom they have a history. Vetnik is displeased by this, and feeling slighted, backs out of the discussion. Lyssa continues to goad Abigail, telling her that while her vengeance may feel justified, it pales in comparison to the importance of their own quest for justice against Kr’zzt. Fed up, Trisoll silences the party. Lyssa teleports the party out of the chamber and returns them to the surface, where Abigail’s compatriots are waiting to take Maja. Abigail gives Maja her magic dampening amulet and releases her into the care of her friends. As the two lovers say their goodbyes, the party address the power struggles within the group. Vetnik lets the party know that if he wants them to be led by them, they ought to abide by his leadership. Thom agrees but argues that most of the party is made up of people who have issues with authority or aren’t disciplined in hierarchical structures the same way Vetnik is. They calm themselves down and Thom and Lyssa return to the lair to investigate more, but find little else beyond smashed equipment.

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SEP/2015

Under Melgas

WORK IN PROGRESS…

The company arrives to the ruins of the small village of Melgas, where little of the former structures remain. Those that do are in disrepair, teaming with wild grass and mounds of ivy and moss. The forest has taken everything back. The only building that remains somewhat intact is a temple deeper into town.

Abigail says the Circle of Bones is a cabal of evil Magi and they are known to heavily trap their lairs, and she’s been tracking them since her lover’s disappearance.

“I have no interest or claim to anything you find in Melgas, my treasure is Maja and Maja alone.” Abi
“How sentimental.” Lys

The acolytes once again stay behind with the horses and supplies outside of the temple ruins, setting up camp in a nearby abandoned home.

Abigail finds a trap door among the rubble in the ruined foyer of the temple. The Brothers Black DOP. Grum successfully disarms the trap door, removing a small latch which seems to be a trigger for a flammable trap. While arranging marching order, Abigail begins to march ahead, but Grum reasons with her that he’s a seasoned scout and he and his ward (Grunt) will lead the party down into the depths of the church. They empty into a narrow hall several feet below the floor of the temple. All the humans light their churches, save for the apparently human Abigail.

Further into the hall around a corner, Grum finds a stone door sealed with a particularly sturdy and intricate-looking lock, and sends Grunt for Thom. The three convene on the door ahead of the party, where Thom casts invisibility over himself out of sight from the others. The twins DOP and find neither noise nor trap. Grum fails to unlock, but Grunt is successful. After opening, he retrieves the others.

The door empties into a large room filled with an acrid stench. The room is barren, save for two portculuses, a wooden door and stone door, and the only thing that decorates the wall are cryptic words : JORN LIES HERE, SLAIN BY A BASILISK. Suddenly, two giant salamanders drop from the ceiling, surprising Abigail and Vetnik. It strikes but misses Vetnik, but the other connects a bite into Abigail. Thom begins to drum as battle ensues. Moira slashes twice at the salamander attacking her companion, cutting it once. The monster continues to snap at Vetnik, grazing his arm with his teeth. The other bites into Abigail a second time. Vetnik retaliates and grievously wounds his attacker. Trisoll rushes to defend Abigail and smashes the salamander with his shelalegh. Lyssa opens her hand and releases three magic missiles and slays the salamander attacking Vetnik. Grum leaps from the shadows and backstabs with Lyn and Slå, felling the second salamander. The smell of suddenly charred flesh piques Abigai’s curiosity, but Grum is quick to conceal his daggers.

Grum and Grunt split up and both peak into one of the raised portculus and find nothing 30 ft in. The thieves then move onto the stone door and finds no traps. Before opening, Thom puts his ear to the crack of the door, and after hearing no noise, they move onto the wooden door. They find neither traps nor lock, but do find it swollen and stuck shut. Thom listens and hears no noise. Vetnik offers to help pry the door open and succeeds. Behind it, they find another dark, short hallway leading to a fork.

The scouts go back to the stone door and enter into a narrow, long room. As they enter, the door knocks against a pile of empty bottles, which clang together and echo throughout the room. Two more salamanders slither down from the ceiling and attack Grunt, biting into his leg. Thom sounds the drums of battle, alerting and buffing his companions. Grum charges at the amphibian with Lyn and Slå again. Grunt fires with Hank, landing an energy arrow. Both Grum and Grunt are bitten before the others rush in. As Vetnik rushes in and slashes, he misses and fumbles his glass sword from out of his hand and falls to the ground. Jarred, Moira misses with the first swipe but deftly lands with the second swipe of her blade. Trisoll whacks at one with his shillelagh and fells the beast attacking Grum. Grum and Trisoll share respectful glances before Grum leaps and jams his blades into the remaining salamander, slaying it. Vetnik stands, dusting himself, avoiding eye contact with the others (embarrassed by his fumble.) Moira discretely comforts him while the others sack the room. All that appears to remain are a series of deteriorating tapestries. While sifting through the glass bottles, Trisoll finds a stone ring. Lyssa attempts to snatch it away from Trisoll but he proves too quick. He smugly saunters away from the others and quietly calls out to Thom. Thom, still unseen, tugs at Trisoll’s tunic, notifiying him of his presence. Trisoll opens his hand and shows off the ring, asking for identification. Thom casts identify and reveals that it’s a ring of Wind Warding.

The party moves through the southern door. Twins DOP and find it safe, unlocked but stuck. Vetnik pushes the door clean open, revealing a short hall. They head north to another door, which is unlocked and untrapped. It’s a wooden door of strange make; it appears to slide up into the frame. The party regroups before opening. As they enter into the room, a low rattling noise can be heard echoing in the room. Like stone slowly scraping together, without rhythm or reason. Vetnik enters first and looks up to the ceiling and in the glow of the torch light, he sees a pair of gargoyles turn their heads around and dive down towards the party. Vetnik rushes in, torch in one hand and sword in the other. As Vetnik rushes in, the thieves enter clinging to the shadows while the others follow behind the barbarian. The gargoyles fly and evade Vetnik, rushing the others. Abigail and Moira attack the same gargoyle. Abigail barely gets a hit in with glass sword, but Moira gets a solid hit in, cutting through the stony skin of the gargoyle to sever its right arm, covering her blade in moss-colored blood. Even without an arm, the gargoyle is still determined. Trisoll bangs it with his shillelagh but the gargoyle continues to be unfazed. Vetnik attacks the able-bodied gargoyle, bashing it with his torch before cutting into with his sword. Despite missing a limb, the gargoyle lashes out and carves into her with his talons before slashing and biting at Trisoll. Grum retaliates with Lyn and Slå and jams his dagger into the left leg of the creature, breaking it at the knee. The aftershock of the electrical blade surges through the gargoyle and fells it. Lyssa fires a metal-tipped arrow at the last gargoyle standing. The beast dodges it and the sound of metal against the stone wall tings and echoes. Grunt backs her up with Hank and fires off a pair of energy arrows, both of which land and explode against the stone skin of the gargoyle, felling it.

As the brothers investigate the treasure mound of gem chips, Lyssa goes to retrieve her arrow.

“A peculiar sound from that arrow of yours. What’s its make?” Abi
Lyssa glares, but before she can respond, Grum chimes in. “Fire treated glass.”
“Do you mind if I inspect them? They seem weighted differently.”
“I do, actually.” Lys
“You have something to hide?”
“Only as much as you.”
“I’m an open book.”
“Speaking of books,” Lyssa says before crouching back down to investigate a pile of old and ruined tomes.

Abigail purses her lips and brushes the cold mage off. Trisoll intervenes, attempting to slyly cozy up to the magehunter. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you, but pay Lyssa no mind. She means no harm, usually. If you want to vent though, or anything, let me know, I’d—“
“Get away from me. Now, cleric. “
Trisoll backs away, hands up and proverbial tale between his legs.

900pp
9000sp

Lyssa finds the books all completely unsalvageable, destroyed intentionally by fire and water.

Thom scouts one of the small archways while his brother investigates the other, western archway, while Grunt collects chips. The party reconvene after finding two hallways, and decide to follow into Thom’s archway. They head down the hall until coming upon another stone door bound by a complex lock. Grum successfully dismantles it and opens into a giant room. A foul odor hits their collective noses and the scouts notice the room’s floor littered with broken arrows. Thom glances around the room and he spots something move on the stone wall. What appears to be wet stone is revealed to be a slowly moving grey ooze creeping towards the party. Grum quickly fires off a pair of arrows into the translucent body of the ooze, but still it continues to slither further. Moira runs and slashes into the ooze with her glass blade. Vetnik follows suit and with a second blow, the ooze suddenly begins to separate, dissolving down the wall and onto the ground into a motionless puddle. Thom pushes past the others and begins to rifle through a mound of treasure.

900pp
2250gp

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SEP/2015

In Pursuit

WORK IN PROGRESS…

Immediately after tossing the room, Thom breaks his invisibility in the room tossed and catches up with Abigail. He calls out to Banshee and asks her to tail Jerendin while he catches up with Abigail and the rest of the party. Lyssa via her familiar obliges and send the owl after.

Thom informs Abigail that Jerendin lied, much to Abigail’s dismay.

“Melgas? I know where the ruins are, but why would he say Piraqua? I need to contact… Yes, I have allies I can send to Piraqua, but will you accompany me to Melgas?”
“Yes, of course.”
“I can’t believe I let him live. Elven filth! I’m going to ride back to see if I can trail any leftover magicks, catch his trail.”

She rides back to the tossed room in the Sludge while Thom races back to the Inn.

Thom petitions Lyssa via Banshee to trail Jerendin and she obliges out of respect for him. When he shows up, they discuss.

“I’m not asking you to become her ally, but we need as many contacts in this realm as possible.”
“We don’t know much about this world. The things we think we know don’t seem quite right. I agree with Thom. I know you find her abrasive but she’s our only other contact here.”
“If you assist me with this, I’m willing to exact revenge on Abigail you think you deserve for her disrespect” Thom whispers to Lyssa. Lyssa gives a slight smirk, but only briefly before she escapes into Banshee’s mind.
“Hahaha, you two angry peas in an angry pod!” Trisoll jokes.
“Ugh, away from me with your tired idioms!”

Abigail returns in foul spirits. She laments to Vetnik, “I was too late, Jerendin made good on his escape.” Vetnik makes 30 sp (eq) for serving as bouncer and remains downstairs as the rest of the team discusses what to do about Jerenden.

Though Banshee’s eyes, Lyssa sees Jerendin polymorph into a deer and gallop off into the woods. Suddenly, as Banshee exceeds the range of contact, Lyssa begins to feel a dull, droning pain. Lyssa watches as Jerendin returns to form by the river. He takes out a small box, intones a spell over it and transforms it into a small boat. He sets sail NW down the river.

Abigail joins the others upstairs, and tells Trisoll to shut up after his greeting.

Lyssa knocks Abigail’s door and she sees Abigail’s hand on her sword. “What do you want, witch?”
“From you? Not much. But I have something you want.”
“What?”
“The whereabouts of your friend, the spurgist.”
“Where? Tell me! What do you want?”
“What do you have to offer?”
“I have already offered your friends my cache of weapons.“
”What do you have to offer me more specifically?”
“I have… many connections throughout the realm, many resources.”
“How vague.”
“Out with it!”
Lyssa begins to eye Abigail’s amulet. Abigail tucks the trinket away and grips her sword.
“Because I’m in the company of such good people, I will give you what you seek. Before I give you this information, you will promise me a favor.”
“Fine.”
“An oath. Swear it on that which is most sacred to you.”
“I swear it on Maja’s life. I will do what you ask, just tell me!”
“The spurgist you hunt changed into a deer and back, and is already at a river. He has conjured a craft and has set sail NW. “
“Thank you. You have not given me your name.”
Lyssa glares before spinning ‘round and staggering back to the common room. Abigail huffs but brushes it off before gathering her things.

Trisoll commands Strom to “pay up” when Lyssa returns to the room. Moira and Lyssa connect discreetly, healing the mage from both the cut dealt by Abigail and the damage endured pushing herself too far in Banshee’s mind. Abigail immediately gets to work on contacting her allies and getting a trail back on Jerendin.

Night falls and most of the party (save for Vetnik) retires for the evening. Abigail returns after a few hours and begins to speak with Vetnik.

“Why are you still up?’
“I need to earn coin, er, chips somehow?”
“We can take some contracts along the way?”
“Let’s discuss this more when neither of us are dead tired.”
“Fair enough.”

Abigail meets the others in the morning, more subdued this time. Thom drops strength on he and his brother.

Moira moans to Vetnik. “You never came to bed last night.”
“I had to stay up last night.”
“You’re so selfless.”
“You can rest while I ride today. I’ll lash Clevene to me.”

Abigail nods to Lyssa, which Lyssa responds with a cool reception. She asks if the party has gotten acquainted with the weapons she has gifted them.
“How do you think I stayed awake last night?” Vetnik replies, twirling a glass sword.

Vetnik, Moira, Grum receive glass swords. Thom gets bone swords. Lyssa and Trisoll get wooden daggers.

“Try not to poke your eye out.” Lys to Tri

Thom also proposes to make Lyssa throwing daggers out of dead/fossilized wood found along the way.

The party sets off, with Abigail riding point and Spitfire 300ft up and ½ mile ahead while Banshee does the same at the rear. Strom stays behind and lets Wous take control of the Acolytes traveling.

9 hours into the ride, they see a camp of a boy and a man at the side of the road tending to a fire. As they ride past, Lyssa does them an act of proposed kindness by casting Alter Normal Flames, increasing the campfire.

“What kind of spurgist casts for no chip?” The father asks suspiciously, shielding the boy.
“No spurgist friend, we ask no fee of you!” Thom reassures.
“What do you want? We seek safe passage through the wood, and I’m not well armed. We’re all alone out here.”
“Of course, sir.“ Moira says. She looks back to the others and mouths “the boy”.
“As much as my companion is quick to say yes, is there a reason you cannot pass?” Vetnik asks.

Lyssa sees via Banshee 6 men riding with wooden weapons on horseback. She begins to Mind Scan the boy and initially gets his fear but is shut out of his mind the second round.

“Who are these men? Why do you fear they’ll take you?”
“He’s just a boy! Leave him alone!”
“You have one more minute to talk before they catch up.”

Thom asks Abigail if she’ll dampen his magic, and she informs that she wills the dampening effect of her amulet. He thinks of creating Leomund’s Tiny Hut over Lyssa, Moira, Abigail and the travelers while the rest of them deal with the riders.

Men ride up. “Have you seen a man and a boy?”
“No sir, we’ve been all alone on this road so far.” Thom lies.
“The boy is wanted for murder!”
“How can a boy commit murder?”
“There’s evil in him. Born evil, gonna die evil. Tell us if you’ve seen him!”
“They’ve continued down the road, just passed us.” Thom
The officers are skeptical but pass.

Lyssa tries to coax the boy into talking but fails. Abigail steps forward and growls for him to answer. The boy weeps “I didn’t mean to!”
“What’s he talking about?”
“My boy… he, he killed two of his little playmates. It was an accident, but I don’t think it was!”
“Don’t cry, daddy.” The boy says. Lyssa notices the boy makes weeping sounds but no tears wet his cheeks.

After the riders disappear, Vetnik enters and sees the father weeping with his son trying to console him.

Moira confirms to Lyssa that she sensed no other entity in him and that the evil inside was human in nature. Lyssa returns to the hut as the rest of the party gets back on their horses. Thom sneaks off and follows her. She confides with the boy that she too was grateful for a supportive parent but that her evils were committed under duress from outside forces, and that what he did was ultimately brutish. She sighs and casts Fireflow on the campfire, sicking the living flame on the boy. The father leaps in front and the pair is engulfed in fire. Lyssa is stunned when Thom enters from behind and slits the throats of the boy and father.

“Why did you do that?”
“I no god to offend. The boy had no chance of a life of light without his father, and losing the boy would’ve only driven the father to dark. The world needs balance. It’s over now. Let’s go.”

Vetnik argues that Thom should’ve taken the boy on as his ward and shown him the error of his ways. “Work him until the evil is purged or let him die.”
“There must be balance. There can be no light without dark.”

Several hours later, Spitfire sees Orc like humanoids the size of Ogres. Abigail informs them that they are Orogs.

Vetnik, Moira, Abigail and the Twins vote to slay the beasts and stay on the road.
Wous + Acolytes & Trisoll want to flee.
Lyssa casts the deciding vote to circle around them to avoid the Orogs and head off the road into the woods.
Trisoll casts Pass Without Trace and Hallucinatory Forest to help ensure their travel is safe. The party is wholly impressed with his ability to think on the fly, showing growth. The curve around the camp of Orogs and realize it’s a nest of at least 60 that they could’ve have walked into.

The second hour through the forest, the twins sense a number of creatures high in the trees. They begin to dive down and the party sees them: a dozen egg shaped creatures covered in black fur and razor sharp wings, a rat tail with a spur, and a bulging eye making up most of its body. They are a flock of Eyewings (11).

Inochi is first to act, casting bless over the party. Grunt takes out Hank and fires a pair of arrows, both of which strike at flying targets. As a Eyewing explodes, the viscous blue fluid splashes Lyssa and causes -2. Lyssa feels the burn and quickly wipes away the goo. Grum fires off two arrows with the longbow and drops one. Moira howls at the creatures and cuts through one of the Eyewings, cutting it in half. Aela casts protection from evil on Vetnik. Abigail pulls out her glass sword and is extremely well trained with it, cutting into the air with fluidity. She strikes and cuts one down and avoids and avoids any splash back. Lyssa raises her hand and incinerates a pair of Eyewings with a jet of burning hands. The remaining Eyewings zip down and the first strikes at Inochi with the ocular goo. She dodges the squirt. Gish is the second to be targeted and is shot by the eye poison though, and succumbs to the poison. He shrieks and Aela cries out for her brother. A third Eyewing strikes at Gish and covers him in more poison. Aela watches helplessly as Gish cries out in pain, but he continues to hang on. Grunt is next to be attacked but his hood provides coverage. Moira is the last to be hit by the poison but shrugs off the pain, avoiding the poisonous effect. Gish casts cure light wounds on himself, bringing him away from the brink. Vetnik slashes into the air. Thom fires off a wooden arrow and slays another Eyewing. Trisoll casts Light on the eye of one of the Eyewing and watches as it spirals to the ground.

Vetnik thrusts his sword into the air and stabs at one of the Eyewing, and with his second action, bring his sword to the ground and stabs through the blinded Eyewing. While swinging, he gets more accustom to the ease of the glass sword. Wous rides over to the last Eyewing, flapping around on the ground, and crushes it beneath the hoof of his steed.

“Do you find these often in the wood, Abigail?” Moira
“Yes, they frequent the forests at night.”
“What else do we have to fear out here?” Vetnik
“Let’s pray we don’t encounter a demon bear. I suggest we get out of the forest and make camp.”

Abigail leads them out of the wood and back towards the road. Aela scolds her brother about being more careful while casting cure light wounds.

During Aela and Gish’s watch, Aela wake the party frantically after Gish disappears. Grunt spots tracks, 8 legged ones.
“What has 8 legs?” Thom
“Spiders.” Lyssa
“Do you have spiders large enough to take a man?” Vetnik to Abigail
“Yes. Let’s hope he was taken by one with paralyzing venom and not one that kills.”

Wous goes to comfort Aela, but she pushes him away. Aela goes to Grunt for consolation. He protests at first but warms to her after seeing her pleading look, but only briefly before cutting her off.

Thom cuts a pair of bodies down from webs suspended in the trees. Vetnik rides up and catches in perfect time. The clamor of his hooves awakens a giant spider. It is a different breed of spiders though than the ones they’ve encountered before, with bony plates and sharp ridges on its legs. (Sword Spiders). Grunt hits it with energy arrows and while it doesn’t do any visible damage, it doesn’t shake the creature. Trisoll casts ‘speak with animal’ and communes with it:

“Spiders! Give us the man and we will leave you without further harm.”
“You take from us. Our food. Ours!”
“We leave you the deer, this one is ours! We mean you no harm.”

While Trisoll pleads with the spiders, Aela begins to cut her brother free. Wous asks Vetnik what to do and he advises him to wait.

Abigail doesn’t wait though and rushes towards the spider, cutting into it.
“So much for diplomacy” Lyssa quips.

Vetnik sighs and rides behind, charging with his own glass sword. The first swing connects and shakes him, but the second swing is unsteady, tripping up but not falling. Wous strikes out with his shillelagh.

Aela shrieks in fury and conjures a flaming sword, and rushes forward but misses in her fury. Grum sneak attacks admist the chaos and sneak attacks with a glass sword through the lower abdomen, spilling its innards.

“Make haste, before more arrive!” Grum cries out and together they race off before any more spiders can arrive. Gish pleads with Aela to forgive him.

“No one goes anywhere without another!” Thom commands.

The last shift is taken by Trisoll. He sees a group of squirrels rummaging through their things, but instead of shooing them off, he communes with them. They warn him to stay safe in the camp.

In the morning, they set off with two new squirrel companions (Fodo and Bogo). After 8 hours of travel, Wous spies something in the grass. He calls out to Abigail.

“It’s a head.” Abigail
“Of?” Thom
“Hard to tell. Humanoid.” Abi

Thom parks up by Abigail and inspects the head. He takes a stick and turns it over and as it rolls over, it has a featureless face, flesh pulled over shapes. Suddenly its flesh shrinks around the skull beneath and it takes on Thom’s face. Strange, milky wings grow out of the side of its head and it flaps away.

“I’m not sure what that is, but that’s not good.”
Grunt attempts to fire, but misses. Grum fires it but when he hits the arrow bounces off harmlessly. Lyssa tries to hit with two metal tipped arrows before attempting to cast Hold Monster. All attempt fail. Frustrated, Thom casts Ice Storm on the fleeing head but the head continues to zip through. Grunt rushes in to take two more shots with Hank and fells it. The head falls, faceless and wingless.

Thom asks Moira and Trisoll to be mindful of nearby undead. Lyssa Mind Scans the thing and finds it devoid of sentience and once Grunt says he wants nothing to do with it, Lyssa puts it in a sack for later exploration.

An hour later, they come upon the ruins of Melgas.

View

AUG/2015

Corrin Errant

WORK IN PROGRESS…

Group figures out how to conceal metals. They bag the armor and coins into two sacks and Vetnik applies two dusts of disappearance. They agree that once they reach the edge of Corrin that they’ll place the sacks with the demihuman acolytes into Leomund’s Tiny Hut (c/o Thom).

4 hours into their travel, they take a break from their ride to enjoy some lunch. In that hour, they finish setting up camp and as they wrap, Gish spots something in the distance. A building of some kind, overrun with the ivy of ruin, complete with a dilapidated tower. Lyssa sends her owl, Banshee, out to scout ahead and it sees clearly that they are the ruins of a short guard tower. A portion of the roof has caved in and inside is a skeleton amidst the rubble. Lyssa commands it to check the corpse and Banshee pries a strange wand from its hand. Banshee delivers the wand to her mistress and Lyssa casts detect magic and it tests positive. She petitions Thom to identify and he reveals that it is a wand of lightning. Lyssa pockets it, despite worries from the rest of the group as to where it was found.

Wand of Lightning has 89 charges.

Thom reveals and Lyssa thanks both him and Banshee (moreso the latter, she seems to be more affectionate towards her animal companion.) Suddenly, Lyssa notices a hovering orb of light levitating from the tower and begins to quickly float down towards the party.

Inohie casts bless over the party immediately. Trisoll ponders on what the light could be while Moira retrieves Starstrike out of the invisible bag. As the light nears, Lyssa notes that the shape begins to take on a humanoid shape. Lyssa attempts to cast hold monster over it, but it resists. Lyssa commands Trisoll to banish the being as it forms a hand creeping out towards her. Trisoll beseeches Trithereon and they watch as the shape returns to its original orb shape and retreats back to the keep.

They get back on the road. Hour 6 the party sees a row of shadows pass over their head. They look up and see a trio of Geldans (bird men) flying through the sky. The bird men clearly see them but have no interest. They zip over their heads and jet off into the distance.

The rest of the journey is uneventful. On the cusp of the forest, they see a hill beyond. At points in the clearing, they see 12 ft high walls closing the gaps. Gates in the center of each clearing and towers that peak above the walls. Thom sets up Leomund’s Tiny Hut and places 5 of the 6 acolytes and their metal goods. Vetnik and Moira venture into the city of Corrin unarmed – save for Vetnik’s sword, which he places in his bag of holding. Thom offers to take Moira’s sword and conceals it. Moira is hesitant, not wanting to leave behind her father’s shield. Vetnik talks her down and she concedes. Lyssa and Trisoll pocket their rings and brooches. Grunt agrees to stay behind to watch over the loot (despite having to babysit the acolytes.)

They near the gates and notice the gates themselves crafted from wood and stone. Thom and Vetnik lead the party pass the city gates. They see a church to Beory housed in a large tree. Lyssa suggests that they check the church out first to see if there’s a Way of the World inside (as precaution just in case things pop off.) The group agrees to split up: Lyssa and Trisoll go to the church while the others split off in search of a market or exchange.

Twins head SW, the couple heads SE, Grunt heads west, Strom heads east, Trisoll and Lyssa head to the Church.

The twins pass Thethe’s Philters, a potion shop. To the right is the constable’s office and jail. They’re heading directly to an inn called The Sage’s Cellar. Thom notices everything is written in slightly altered common. Thom tunes his ears to try and detect certain dialects and notices it is slightly altered. He hears a man’s voice most loudly, advertising Simon’s Strolling Salamundi (a meat cart.) They also notice a church to Mystra. They decide to go to Trueshaft’s Bowery. They are greeted by a beautiful brunette and introduces herself as Idaya Trueshaft.

“What do I owe myself the visit of such handsome gentlemen?” She says flirting (a male voice exhales from the back in protest)
“You are Trueshaft?” Thom asks.

They notice that all the weapons are crafted out of wood and glass-tipped arrows, “hardened in the traditional manner” she informs with a wink.

Thom asks if she’d like to buy his longbow. She studies every inch of it. He informs her that it came from the far, far East. She offers 15 glass eyes and 2 emerald chips for them, and reveals 15 small, round polished marble like gems and two smooth chips of raw emerald.

A good-looking, one-eyed blonde man steps out of the back and it’s revealed that he is the chief weaponsmith. Idaya shows the twins to a small case underneath the counter and reveals the contents, an arrow with a metal arrowhead.

“How much do you value that as?”
“50 ruby chips it cost me!”

After selling his bow, Idaya offers the twins a chance for a little shoot off which both oblige to. Another member of staff, Bettina, rushes out into the back lot and sets up bolts and targets. Thom fires first and makes target (barely). Grum takes a shot and shows his brother up.

“I see who the true bowman is in the family.” Idaya jokes before showing them both up and firing a bolt straight into the bullseye with near perfect form.

At the church of Beory, Trisoll and Lyssa find it decorated in a similar fashion as the one in Greyhawk. They are greeted by an acolyte. Lyssa is quiet and allows Trisoll to speak on their behalf.

“This is a church of Beory, right?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Well, my dad, Zemilay Lyks, you may’ve heard of him—“
“No. I’m not familiar.”
“Oh. Strange. Do you have a Ways of the World here?”
“I… Pardon me? Are you well sir?”
“Oh, uh”

Lyssa tugs his tunic and motions to the door.

“Where do we go now?”

South they see Thethe’s Philters. To the west they see constables. To the east they see a residential area of visible affluence. They head into the potion shop and meet Thethe, an unusual looking being who appears to be Drow. The sight of a dark skinned elf shakes Trisoll. Thethe looks up from the beaker he’s tinkering with and welcomes them warmly.

“Ummm… hi. I’m Trisoll and this is…” Trisoll turns to Lyssa to confirm identity.
“You don’t look like you’re from around here.”
“I’m from Bertall, yes, but I’ve been here for many years”

He reveals himself as Bath’da’krah (Night Elf). He’s crafting an oil of disenchantment. He asks what Lyssa knows of potions and magic, and after some back and forth, he questions whether or not she is a “spurgist”. Wanting to blend in, she confirms while not truly understanding the term. He reveals that a spurgist is a sellspell, one who casts their magicks for a cost.

Lyssa and Thethe arrange to barter: Lyssa offers up foreign potion ingredients for customized potions, oils, and poisons and in exchange, he retains a portion of them for his own archives.

Vetnik and Moira head SE and pass Thethe’s Philter and Trueshaft Bowery followed by a strange religious institution. Written in common it says: TEMPLE OF PALADINE. The pair look to each other, both confused. Beyond that they see The Badger’s Inn.

On their way back to the front gate, Vetnik and Moira run into Trisoll and Lyssa outside of the Philtery.

Lyssa notices a man attempting to cast a spell with concealed hands. He is trailed by a woman with silver hair. He disappears and she curses, slamming a hard glass sword from hilt to tip down onto the ground. Vetnik and Trisoll trail the woman while Lyssa and Moira follow slowly behind.

Inside the pub, Vetnik and Trisoll introduce themselves to the silver haired warrior who reveals herself rather tersely as Abigail Greenray. As Vetnik and Abigail continue to discuss why Abigail was trailing the magic user, Trisoll fetches the pair of women from outside.

Once inside, Vetnik notices Abigail tense up at the sight of the cloaked Lyssa. She confronts her, sensing magical energy radiating from her.

“And who is this?”
“She is our companion.”
“She reeks of magic.”
Lyssa approaches, ready to defend her honor.

“What are you? Magi or Spurgist?”
In an attempt to blend in, Lyssa recalled the Spurgist being mentioned by Thethe and replies as such. Abigail quickly draws her blade and, despite protesting from Vetnik and the others, pushes through to strike at Lyssa. Lyssa attempts to subdue her with a quick levitation spell, and while it appears to work at first (lifting her inches off of the ground), the party watches as the amulet around her neck glows and seems to absorb the magic cast upon her. Dropping back to her feet, Abigail swings her glass sword at Lyssa after revealing herself as a magehunter. In a fit of retaliation, she whips out her Blackmoor mechanical dagger and fires. She realizes her mistake too late and fires it, missing the target. Vetnik rushes in and blows sleep dust into the face of the magehunter. Lyssa watches as a swarm of men try to retrieve her metal blade from off the ground, and thinking fast, she casts Alternate Reality and takes the party back in time just before she revealed the metal dagger. She stops herself but in doing so, she is slashed by Abigail’s glass sword.

-12hp for Lyssa
- Fireball is lost temporarily

Lyssa urges Vetnik to hit her with the dust, he does so (confused that he was already planning on doing so) and she succumbs to the sleep. Vetnik quickly carries her off and the others follow behind, much to a confused audience of bar patrons.

The twins come upon Fallon’s Stable and Woodshop. Adjacent to it is 8 stables, several of which are occupied. Inside, wooden armor and weapons are being crafted. Grum has a bone dagger crafted and the pair set off to find the others. After leaving the woodshop, they come upon the rest of the party gathered together around an unconscious Abigail. Lyssa panics, feeling one of her spells literally ripped from her mind. She casts Strength upon herself in an attempt to wrest the sword from Abigail to break it, but Vetnik proves stronger still and keeps her at bay. The commotion causes Abigail to come to, who wakes with equal anger. Both women appear to have a similar stubbornness about them. Despite this, cooler heads prevail. They agree to help Abigail track down the mage, now known as Jerinden Korvach, and she assures Lyssa that her magic will return to her once rested (though if she could, she’d cut the magic straight out of her if she had the chance.) Abigail reveals that the man she was pursuing had a hand in the disappearance of her lover, Maja, and that he is involved with a nefarious organization known as the Circle of Bones.

The party + Abigail return to the Badger’s Inn for a night of rest. All enjoy a dinner and drinks, and Trisoll probes Abigail for more information on the ways of the new world (the breakdown of currency especially). Thom and Lyssa discuss ways to make money and Thom advises that if she wants to sell any of her metal arrowheads, she needs to do so smartly as to not draw suspicion to her and the group. Abigail offers to loan the party a small cache of weapons if they help to find Jerendin, a Moon elf. She alerts them to the dense part of town, the Rockston neighborhood (aka The Sludge). Grum agrees to go with Abigail ISO the Moon elf. The pair set off, while Lyssa sends Banshee to trail them. Unbeknownst to Abigail, Thom also trails the party under the spell of invisibility.

After a couple hours, Grum finds the spurgist due to his vanity (his refusal to remove his magical rings, of which he wears many.) They corner him into his safe house after dispelling the magical ward guarding him from them. Abigail subdues him and threatens to mate with him before turning him over to the Sun elves if he refuses to cooperate. Pleading, Jerendin gives up the land that the Circle is: Piraqua. She releases him with the promise that, if found to be lying, she will unleash all manner of violent revenge against him.

“He has violated the terms of his contract by revealing the Circle’s location. There is no way he would go back to them. It would mean death. So, fuck him!”

After Abigail and Grum leave, Thom tosses the rest of the shack and finds a communication from the Circle citing a different city as their base of operations: Melgas. He also finds 12 gp (eq) 12 sp (eq) 13 cp (eq).

View

AUG/2015

Under New Moons

WORK IN PROGRESS…

The Heaven’s Heart hovered in an open, now-cloudless sky above an ocean new and vast. The water’s shimmering surface was dotted with several small isles, with a larger coast off in the distance. All those on board (save the Spelljammer’s pilot, Travaren) stood together on the ship’s upper deck, arrested by the quiet beauty of it all – even the grass on the lands below seemed stained in the indigo hue that blanketed the sky. The only heavenly bodies that cut through the monochrome skyline were the stars that clustered and flickered above, all of which were dwarfed but the three moons that glowed. One carried with it a faint, similar silver light that those from Oerth seemed familiar with, but the other two were marvelous and unknown. The missionaries whispered amongst themselves, pointing out the constellations they knew and pondering about those they didn’t. Their wonder was infectious to a degree: Moira kept Vetnik’s hand in hers and they scanned the heavens together, with Moira pointing out constellations to him she knew herself while wondering out loud what the others could represent; Grum paced the deck in order to get better sense of where North could be while Trisoll blithely followed, his eyes fixed on the sky. Feelingly mysteriously rejuvenated, Thom quickly pulled out his sketchbook and began to fluidly map out of the three-mooned sky and the islands beneath him on paper. Grunt remained disinterested but noticed from beneath the edge of his hood the occasional glances Aela (the half-Elf missionary) kept sending him.

As Thom glanced frenetically from page to landscape and back, he noticed Lyssa leaning against the edge of the deck. He continued to observe her as he sketched and watched as she succumbed to a peculiar daze. He paused from sketching and watched as her posture became more fluid and relaxed, with even her usually tense countenance relaxing as she leaned her head back up towards the sky. It was almost as if she could hear music that no one else could, a song that seemed to lure her upwards. Thom felt the space around Lyssa rumble with magical vibrations and watched as her body was overcome with an aura of red energy. Without warning, she jetted off into the sky in a streak of crimson light with more speed and power than either she or her companions had seen from her before. As she soared higher, the aura around her began to take on a spherical shape. A mile above the Spelljammer, Thom and the others watched as the aura exploded into an undulating rhythm of radiant red fields that cycled from the mage’s body. Thom was captivated by the unique sight and began to sketch the shapes she saw glowing up him. He watched as the fields began to flicker, faster and faster and faster, until all of a sudden they vibrated so wildly that they released a siren’s pitch so piercing that it cut into the ears of all who could hear below.

Thom was first to be subdued by the sound as the screech drilled its way into his sensitive half-Elven ears. He dropped his journal and crayons onto the deck and fell to his knees, clasping his gloved hands over his ears while cursing the sound. The screeching was unyielding and soon the entire party was covering their ears in a panic, shouting at both Lyssa and each other for an end to it. Moira watched as the acolytes huddled together to protect themselves. On the opposite side, Captain Durbin struggled to inch his way across the deck to aid his crew of Gnomes, all three of whom lay writhing on the deck overcome by the sonic assault. Grum seemed to manage the sound better than most (certainly better than his brother was). With his ears covered, he rushed beside Trisoll.

“DO YOU HAVE SOMETHING TO MAKE THIS STOP?” Grum shouted, making sure to mouth and enunciate every word pointedly for the partially deafened cleric.

Trisoll frantically nodded his head before bowing it, closing his eyes in an attempt to concentrate. Grum watched as Trisoll muttered a prayer he couldn’t decipher, turning his attention back and forth from him and his suffering brother. Suddenly, the siren stopped. The air was quiet once more. Trisoll and Grum cautiously unclasped their ears in unison and looked to each other.

“It worked!” Trisoll exclaimed. He noticed though, that as his mouth moved, the words failed to escape his throat. Trisoll looked up to the sky and watched as Lyssa continued to float above them, the sphere of violent magical energy now calm around her.

Grum, meanwhile, rushed to his brother’s side and helped him unclasp his ears. He saw in his brother’s eyes the welling of painful tears and bloodshot vessels – but took care not to point it out. He simply patted his brother on the back before he took up his brother’s journal and crayon. Thom watched as Grum flipped the page and quickly scribbled a note down to him: ARE YOU ALL RIGHT? Thom nodded his head before reaching out for his journal.

WHAT HAPPENED? Thom asked in conté.

Grum snapped his fingers and pointed them at Trisoll, who was now helping the others to their feet along with Moira and Vetnik. Thom and Grum confronted the cleric, pointing at Thom’s note. Trisoll pantomimed out the following: he had prayed to Trithereon to silence Lyssa and, in doing so, blanketed her with a field of silence that was now afflicting them as well. The trio of men looked up and watched Lyssa hover above them, oblivious to the torment she had wrought upon them just moments prior. Trisoll placed his fingers in his mouth as if to whistle up to her but before blowing, he remembered the prayer that had been answered, and wiped his spit-tipped fingers off onto his tunic.

They were at an impasse. They could not call out to their companion without breaking the prayer, but doing so would surely release the horrid sound upon them again. Rejoined with Grunt, Moira and Vetnik, the party looked on deck for things that could get the dazed mage’s attention. Grunt even drew Hank and offered up an unerring arrow as an option. It was an option Moira was quick to dismiss, however. Thom guided a crayon between his fingers as he struggled to come up with a way to get the mage’s attention. Then, it hit him; in between his fingers, he snapped the crayon in two. He tucked one half of it away in his pocket and readied to throw the other half. He glared up at his companion, stood back, and launched it into the air. The conté half torpedoed up into the air, shot straight through Lyssa’s radiating sphere and landed against the mage’s brow. The collision jolted Lyssa back into consciousness. Her eyes burst open to reveal an intense, fiery glow as she scanned the area around her. Looking beneath, she saw her companions staring up at her with pained, frustrated expressions. As she began to mouth a reply, she too realized she had been silenced. She caressed her throat and struggled to release a sound, panicked by the loss of her voice.

Thom flipped the page of his journal, retrieved the half of his crayon, and quickly scribed a note in big, blocky lettering. It commanded:

STOP FLYING

Lyssa took a moment to read the short and terse note. As she did, she could feel the currents of magical energy expanding and contracting around her in ways she couldn’t control. The symptoms of a wild surge, no doubt.

Lyssa drops the fly spell and torpedoes towards the deck of the ship. Vetnik and Grum rush to catch her and both insure a safe landing.

“Does this happen often?” Strom to Moira.
“Often? No. Seldom, perhaps,” she responds.

The party discusses their connection to the magic. Thom reveals he feels a stronger connection but is fine otherwise. Lyssa, on the other hand, continues to display a relaxed blitheness that’s out of character for her. Thom takes note of her relaxed demeanor and attributes this daze of hers to something in the new world. Trithereon fells nothing. Grombor urges every one to strap in below deck.

The land is lush, with blue-tinted fields of tall grass. The air is fresh and sweet, with the sound of birds chirping. Jarbo skitter away as the Spelljammer descends. Vetnik sees a small, bespectacled man run through the grass, looking up at the ship in absolute wonder. In his hand is a glass beaker, which drops to the ground.

Once on the ground, Vetnik notices he looks much like a Gnome, but more refined. Grombor skittishly urges the party off of the ship. Lyssa stumbles toward the cockpit and observes as Travaran struggles with his star maps, unconcerned with outside distractions.

Vetnik and Moira are the first to touch the new land. The mysterious man falls to the ground in marvel. His eyes dart around, glancing at the party’s belts.

“Are you gods? Kings? Is this your queen?”
“Perhaps one day, but—“
“Where did you get all that metal?”
“Sir, please steady yourself.”

“My name is Albar Daxif. I saw you fly in from the tower. You’re not kings, not gods?”
“We might be,” Lyssa muttered under her breath jokingly – a characteristic she was never predisposed to.
“Come, take that off. Hide all those things!”
“You mean my armor?”
“Yes. You don’t understand. I’ve never seen so much metal—you invite great peril if anyone sees that!”

Walking through the overgrown plains towards the tower, a quilled coyote snacks on running jarbo, dragging its squeaking body into the night shadow of the bush.

Heading northeast, they come upon an observatory tower built into the side of a hill. He leads them up to a door that opens up with a series of keys for every lock.

“Welcome to Daxif Tower!”

Lyssa questions the man about elves in Kellagha. She and Vetnik coerce the man to take some of Dablova’s Serenity by way of Grunt. Once calm, he and Vetnik begin to discuss his identity: an alchemist and astrologer.

Jen’mar’kah (sun elves, warriors)
Bri’ja’kah (moon elves, scholars)
Geldans (bird men)

After lengthy discussions, analyzing the vision Dablova imparted onto the group, Albar assists in setting up camp for them. Strom and Wous insist on staying up to keep watch. The male gnome (in an attempt to impress the female gnome). Lyssa overheards Aela fawn over Grunt to the female Gnome (which disgusts Lyssa).

Once Aela realizes Grunt has a shift, she is eager to volunteer to take watch with him.

Before shifts begin, Lyssa and Strom argue over the semantics of their mission and she calls them out for blindly going along with the church’s orders without even realizing a church had already been established in Kellagha already. Moira is tickled by Lyssa’s candor, feeling similarly confrontational towards the church as of late.

Trisoll and Wous take first shift and get chummy. Trisoll assures Wous that Lyssa means he and his crew no particular harm. Wous confides in Trisoll that he wasn’t a respected dwarf and sought out Cortox as a means for a new life. No incident.

Grunt and Aela take next shift. Grunt sits in silence, picking at the dirt with an arrow. Aela scoots beside him. “Well stranger, we have a shift together. How fortuitous.”
“Whatever.”
“Why are you so angry?”
“I’m not angry, I’m indifferent.”
“Do you not like… women?”
“I don’t like anybody!”
“Release the anger. Give in to love…” Aela leans in to kiss him but before she can press her lips against him, they hear the rustling of a pack of six large wolves with jet black fur. Aela spots them first with her nightvision.

“Something is coming!” Aela cried out, using the disturbance as a means to grab hold of Grunt. Grunt struggled to release himself of her at first, but noticed something about the movement in the bush. It was a disturbance far too large to be a mere flock of jarbo. Grunt pivoted around to wake the others while also positioning Aela in front to use her back as a shield if necessary.

As the others slowly began to rise from their sleep, Grunt noticed the light from the fire reflect on several small sets of eyes that cut through the grass and reflected the light of the fire back at them, disappearing and reappearing several times over. Grunt had seen this same behavior in other animals. They were being scouted, circled, sized-up as a meal. Suddenly, the rustling of the bushes in front of Grunt stopped and the gaze of wandering eyes could be seen no more. Grunt and the others held their breaths, suspended by the unknown and half-alertness. All of a sudden, Aela squeezed her arms tight around Grunt’s neck as she let out a yelp.

“By Cortox, what are they?” Aela shuddered. Grunt turned his head around; he could see the shadows of three beasts slink out of the bush towards the edge of the camp, the torchlight glowing against their glassy amber eyes. Grunt could barely make out the blackened shapes.
“What do you see?” Grunt whispered.
“Black!”Aela relayed back, burying herself deeper into Grunt’s shoulder. “Black like dire wolves, but their fur’s—“

Before she could finish detailing the strange creatures’ to Grunt, a pair of beasts made themselves known to the party by leaping up out of the bush to attack. What emerged was a foreign and horrific sight: indeed, they were as big and black as dire wolves, but lining their fur were rows of long ebony spines that laid against their bodies. As Aela shrieked, Thom quickly drew his longsword from out of his scabbard and slashed away at the pair of leaping things across their bellies. Unarmored, Moira drew Starstrike and quickly rushed to Thom’s aid. In her rush, the first of her swings missed, but the second cut into one of the beasts, keeping it at bay for a moment. Trisoll scoured the campsite only half-awake, frantically chanting for a blessing to blanket the party with as they battled the strange pseudo-wolves. Lyssa shot up out of her sleeping bag and extended her hand outward towards the oncoming beasts. She aimed her hand and concentrated on sending the magic in her body through her fingers to release a series of magic missiles. Her intent proved weaker than her control however as Lyssa felt the rush of energy surge through her entire body and expand outwards uncontrollably. Lyssa put her hand in front and could see an aura surrounding her arm made of waves of translucent, multi-colored energy. Her signature bolts of energy coursed through the shimmering waves. Lyssa was transfixed by the effect and watched as the waves of energy snuffed out and absorbed her crimson signatures. It was an effect she had never seen before, and one that only lasted a moment. She looked out and saw a pause overtake the camp-turned-battleground. Sparkling wisps of red energy briefly fluttered around the mouths and throats of both friend and foe alike before billowing up the noses and mouths of those engaged in battle — unbeknownst to anyone but herself.

Thom momentarily had eyes on his magical companion and watched as the prismatic field surrounding her shimmer and flicker before disappearing. He had little time to ponder the strange effect though, as his observation was interrupted by a sudden and intense compulsion bubbling his throat. The bubbling erupted from his mouth in an endless and exhausting series of hiccups! He did his best to steel himself but could not contain the compulsion. His eyes scanned the campground and he noticed that he was not alone. Not only were his companions overcome with the same affliction, but the attacking pack of beasts were as well, barely able contain themselves from yelping! Everyone, that was, except Lyssa, who stood stoically in observation.

Vetnik, unable to compose himself, quickly scanned the campground just as Thom had done and noticed the same. Still overcome with uncontrollable hiccupping, he scowled back at Lyssa before rushing at the leader of the pack with his blade drawn, drawing blood from two of the beasts. Grunt struggled to maintain his aim with Hank, overcome by not only his magical compulsion, but with the hiccupping half-Elf Aela clinging to him for protection. He fired off two arrows but neither found their targets. The inability to breath from the onslaught of hiccups only seemed to anger the pack of beasts more. After being fired at by Grunt, one of the wolflike creatures lunged at the scout. Just as its front paws touched back down upon the ground, the beast seemed to choke on its own hiccup and stumble to the ground beside Grunt. A second creature leaped over its pack member’s body and charged at Wous, but the SPECIES proved more nimble than expected darting out of the creature’s way in the knick of time. As Thom dodged a third beast, an injured fourth sought revenge against its attacker: Moira! From behind her it attacked, and just as she spun around to defend herself, the beast cinched its jaws into the paladin’s inner elbow. As she bent her arm to squeeze the beast into the headlock, she watched as several smaller, finer black quills burst from its furry muzzle and burrowed through her sleeve into her skin before retreating back into the creature’s skull. Strom took up his axe and attempted to cut the creature down, but before he could land a blow, a second creature leaped up and sunk its fangs into the SPECIES hand. Before allowing it to launch its quills into his arm, Strom quickly kicked the beast back. Both he and the creature shook off the respective attacks before staring each other down. The creature appeared to almost grin at Strom, as if knowing something wicked. Strom dared to take a step closer and as he did, the beast barked before bolting. A second creature darted across the party’s sleeping bags towards Moira (who was still reeling from the bite in her arm). Strom watched as the beast pounced onto Moira’s back and clamped down upon her shoulder with its frothing jaws. Its bite was followed with the emergence of rows of fine, black spines that pierced the flesh of her back. Moira seized up in instant pain, but before she could cry out for aid, her body sunk to the ground. Her glassy-eyed expression was frozen in panic as the pseudo-wolf stood upon her back, triumphantly howling before gnawing at the wound it had left while the second beast circled her paralyzed body. Vetnik rushed to his love, determined that nothing would come between them. He stomped across the campsite, XXXXXXXXXX. As another beast leaped up and attempted to attack, Vetnik grabbed the feral hound by its throat and tossed it across the campsite like a disobedient pup. As Vetnik charged ahead, both Wous and Grum set their sights on the apparent leader of the pack. Fine strands of silver fur shot through its ink-black coat, denoting its age, while its size seemed to dwarf the other five beasts in his pack. Wous vainly swiped at the pack leader but the hiccups that afflicted him also seemed to disrupt his aim. Grum was a much more seasoned shot however, drawing his longbow and firing a pair of arrows into the grizzly beast’s hide! The howl of the pack leader snapped Lyssa out of her momentary daze. She watched the wisps of red magic escape the maw of the pack leader as it cried out in pain, wisps that soon multiplied as they escaped the mouths and noses of those around her and evaporated into the air above.

With the curse apparently lifted, Lyssa shook off the lingering effects of the wild surge and refocused her energies. She immediately thrust her hand forward and from her fingertips exploded two magic missiles. Before Vetnik could fell the beasts tormenting his lover, Lyssa’s magic missiles torpedoed past him and collided into the bodies of the creatures, leaving behind two smoking corpses. Vetnik glared back at Lyssa and huffed (no doubt perturbed by the prevalent wild surges she had been subjecting the party to since arriving in Kellagha). He had more important matters at hand though, and quickly tossed aside the corpses of the slain pseudo-wolves before taking Moira up into his arms. Trisoll, now fully alert, stood to attention with his staff in hand. He did his best to swipe at the beasts but they proved too swift to hit for him. Wous took up his hammer once more and did his best to bring it down upon the head of the pack leader. The beast, in an arrogant display of agility, merely sidestepped out of the way of Wous’ swing and watched as the hammer collided into the dirt beside him. The pack leader fixed its gaze onto Wous and snarled, but before he could snap at the acolyte, he saw the shimmer of silver cut through his field of vision followed by the sting of a cut across the side of its neck. Before the pack leader could turn its head ‘round, he felt a second stinging pressure surge down the side of its body. Its expression was suspended much in the same way Moira’s had been: wide, glassy eyes and mouth agape in shock. The feeling was fleeting, as Thom quickly yanked his silver longsword from out of its belly. Its eyes freely rolled back into its skull as it tipped over onto the ground, a thin trail of oozing viscera stringing from belly to blade. Thom quickly wiped the blood from his sword on the quilled hide of the slain pack leader before dashing back to the campsite with the others.

Upon seeing their leader gored, a trio of pseudo-wolves wised up and began to make their retreat back into the dark bush. Grum, still upset that his rest had been disturbed, drew back two more arrows and fired them off as they fled. Whether or not they hit he could not tell, but he hoped it would send the message that neither he nor his friends were easy prey. Taking a page from his master, Grunt began to draw his own bow and prepared to knock a pair of arrows. Just as he raised Hank to eye level, a shriek of joy came from behind, shattering his concentration:

“You saved me!” It was Aela, tearful and melodramatic with gratitude. She continued, “my brave, hooded hero!”

Before he could dart out of the way, or even sheath his bow, he felt her thin, willowy arms wrap around his chest from behind with unexpected strength.
“Unhand me, girl!” Grunt hissed as he tried to wriggle out of her grasp. Using the tail end of Hank, he managed to pry her arms open enough for him to force himself out of her embrace. Dusting himself off, he glanced at her from under the safety of his hood. She stood there, eyes wide with adoration.
“What?” he asked, careful not to look up at her. She said nothing in response, but he watched as her mouth tightened with a smile.

Vetnik kept his sword on the ground beside him as he tended to Moira’s frozen body. The paralysis that took hold of her was as swift as it was potent. After turning her body over, Vetnik noticed that Moira’s breathing had become exceedingly strained within a matter of minutes. Vetnik feared that the poison had already begun to make its way into her lungs where it would paralyze her lungs, stopping her breathing altogether. Strom quickly rushed over without provocation and dropped to his knees to examine the fallen paladin. Vetnik held tight to her hand as Strom lifted her head gently up off of the ground and placed it in his lap. He gently examined the bites to the arms and shoulder as Vetnik continued to reassuringly massage her hand, muttering to her softly that everything would “be alright, just hang on.”

“Moira!” a familiar voice cried out in shock. Both men lifted their eyes away from Moira to see Lyssa standing at a safe distance from the three bodies huddled together. Before probing any further, Lyssa searched the faces of both Vetnik and Strom for permission. They said nothing in reply, but the look in their eyes was mutual in its expression. Immediately, she could tell her presence was unwanted. Though eager to help her friend, Lyssa knew Vetnik’s temperament far too well. For Moira’s sake, she fired only a frustrated glance back at her companions before retreating back to the others, who were busy doing some examinations of their own. As Lyssa stomped away, Vetnik and Strom resumed caring for Moira. Vetnik kept her hand in his as Strom closed his eyes and lowered his head down towards hers. Softly he began to beseech Cortox to guide His Paladin back to health.

The others took stock of the foreign corpses that now littered their campsite. Despite having never seen them before, Grunt examined the beasts with the same efficacy as he would a regular wolf. His scout’s intuition guided him through the anatomy of the beasts, which was not too dissimilar to the wolves found on Oerth. He did take notice of two startling differences though, as he explored the large wounds left by Thom’s longsword: nuanced musculature that seemed to will the quills into action through reflex alone, and the source of the poison itself. In the throat of the slain pack leader he found rows of small, fleshy sacs threaded together with blackened webs of veins, all of which contained the paralyzing venom. Though most had been mangled by Thom in this beast, Grunt was still able to navigate the circulatory system that carried the venom through the body and up through the quills.

“Nasty beasts!” Grunt huffed as he continued his examination of the pack leader.
“Anything we can use?” Lyssa asked flatly from a few feet away, kneeling beside one of the beasts she had slain. He turned his head to face her, but before he could answer, he watched as Lyssa unsheathed one of her many daggers. Focused, she began to flay the pseudo-wolf’s hide, pulling out quills from its flesh and pocketing them for uses unspoken.
“Well,” Grunt began as he stood and stepped away from the corpse to watch Lyssa butcher hers. “The venom sacs on this one are shot to shit thanks to Thom. But we might be able to salvage from the others.”
“Where are they?”
Grunt kneeled down once more XXXXXXX
Thom and Grum wandered over and watched as Lyssa harvested the body of the creature. If their venom was strong enough to paralyze someone as strong as Moira, then surely they might be able to use the poison to their own advantage. The brothers kneeled down beside the last corpse and together began to pick it clean. With surgical precision, Thom sliced into the body of the beast and began to remove the venom sac while Grum diligently plucked what quills, claws and teeth he could.

It had been almost a half hour since Strom sat down to pray the poison out of Moira. The others had finished taking what they could from the beasts and now sat and watched, waiting for some sign of better health from Moira. The audience of friends and acolytes were tensely suspended in their anticipation. The missionaries sat together holding hands, muttering to themselves a prayer to Cortox while they watched Strom chant his own healing prayer. Behind the missionaries the rest of the party stood and watched with their blades and bows in hand should anything else try to interrupt the sanctity of the campsite. The night was still and quiet again. So still that even the birds and bugs that chirped so freely before were now silent, almost as if silent in hushed anticipation. The missionaries leaned in for news of their clergy members’ fate.

She comes to and stares him in his ice blue eyes.
“You saved me.”
He places an amulet of Protection v. Scrying into her palm.
“Why? Do you think he’ll come for me?”

The Black brothers take their shift and it’s uneventful.

“We cannot explore this new world unarmored. If earlier tonight was any indication of the sort of beasts we can expect to encounter here—“
Vetnik paused and looked to Moira, who began to arch herself forward, pulling her knees closer to her chest as if clamming up into a more secure position. Vetnik pressed his hand gently upon the base of her spine and slowly slid it up and down the length of her back in soothing, comforting strokes.
“What are we going to do?”
“Perhaps Lyssa has a spell,” Moira began to ponder. Before she could finish her sentence, she took notice of Vetnik’s discomfort with the idea and let the thought trail off.
“Lyssa? Bah! I haven’t witnessed her surge in weeks, but the moment we arrive here in Kellagha she seems to lose all control again.”
“You and I both know her powers don’t work the way other magic users do.”
“All the same, her magic put all of us at great risk tonight on more than one occasion. I won’t let that happen again. We will figure something out.”

Moira looked up at the sky and could see that the sky had begun to brighten ever so slightly. Dawn was presumably only an hour away, and with it would hopefully come some semblance of rest for both her and Vetnik.

“I should wake her. It’s almost time for her to take watch.”
“Perhaps it’s better that I stay up.”
“No, come. You need to rest too.”

Moira rose to her feet first before taking Vetnik’s hand into hers. They stood and crept back to their bedding together, but not before nudging Lyssa and Strom up from their sleep to take up the next watch. Making their way back to their sleeping bags, they realized their bodies were quiet. They were no longer a cacophony of rustling metal, and the lack of the familiar sound seemed to chill them similarly. The security of iron was now a liability in Kellagha. As they lay beside each other, Moira curved into the same shape as Vetnik, Moira and Vetnik tightened the embrace between them before shutting their eyes.

Strom and Lyssa make no effort to speak with each other during their watch. They welcome dawn and Strom is quick to wake the others, eager to have less intimidating company. Albar comes down from the tower and brings them hot tea. The party recounts their night and Albar informs them that what they encountered were venomous beasts known as quillwolves. He bids them safe travels on their way to Coren.

View

MAY/2015

Barren

WORK IN PROGRESS…

The party works together to see if they can put the Spelljammer upright but are unable to dislodge the front leg from the earth as the night gets colder. None of the party knows much about the deserts. As night blankets the desert, the party takes refuge inside of the ship. The acolytes go around and heal the party. Trisoll tells Lyssa that he doesn’t have access to his prayers.

“Praise Cortox!” Aela says to Grunt. “Do you feel better, sir?”
“Whatever.”
“Your gruffness betrays a kindness.”

Vetnik paces outside with a torch. As granules of sand pass through the torch they create sparks of greenish hue. He looks to the star-covered sky and sees two moons high in the air, but both the moon and the stars do nothing to penetrate the vast blackness of the desert beyond. Vetnik sets off towards the darkness away from the Heaven’s Heart. He is unbothered by the cold but finds walking through the sandy surface difficult to navigate.

Pushing forward, the wind whips up harder and harder. The sands almost begin to pelt Vetnik 40ft away from the ship. He turns around and sloughs back to the ship but before he makes it back, the torch is blown out. The winds subdue him, and as he turns his head sideways, he sees a sidewinder cut through the dust cloud. At the forefront, he sees two wispy openings in the sand.

“SOMETHING’S COMING!” Vetnik calls out. As he cries out, the spiral smashes down to the earth far from Vetnik. As it crashes into the ground, Vortex rushes back towards the ship. He approaches towards the torch-lit crash site and sees Moira in the distance.

“Follow the sound of my voice!”
“I’m close!”
“What is it?”
“I don’t know! Something in the sand!”

Vetnik rushes to Moira and as the pair hurry back to the ship, the winds pick up and begin to beat down upon the crashed ship. Grombor and Strom join the party in facing off against the living sandstorm. Vetnik stares in strange vortex down and in his hesitation, the sand cyclone strikes at the knight with a funnel of spinning sand. The cyclone lifts him into the air. While caught in the cyclone, Vetnik attempts to strike twice but misses.

Strom attempts to conjure a dust devil, and enchants the dust into a 1ft tall cyclone. The mindless, pathetic thing charges at the monstrous cyclone and crashes into it. Grum pulls out his longbow and fires off two arrows; the first arrow penetrates the sand and he watches as it gets spit out, broken. Gromdor charges at the vortex with a double-bladed axe but misses. Trisoll attempts to bless the party but his prayer remains unanswered. Grunt is next and, with Hank used as a regular bow, he fires off a pair of arrows. Moira sees that Strom’s spells have worked, so she whispers a prayer to Cortox before hoisting her sword up and charging. She pierces the whirling surface of the thing. Thom follows her lead and charges with a longsword and short sword. After being struck, the cloud dust flees in retreat. (Dust Quasi-Elemental).

The Cortoxian priests surround the injured Vetnik and together heal him back to health. Together the party takes refuge inside The Heaven’s Heart. The rest of the night is uneventful. The metal and wood create a chilly cabin, so the party huddles together for warmth.

As the sun begins to rise, the desert heats up quickly. Moira and Vetnik quickly remove their armor as the others take off any extraneous uniform. Vetnik climbs on top of the ship as the sun rises and scans the desert horizon. Travaran confronts Lyssa.
“Please help me understand this so we may understand.”
Lyssa explains the ritual the Mages’ Guild performed in the desert, the destruction of the Eye of Null.

After being confronted, Lyssa reveals the details of her conversation to Thom.
“We should scout closer to dusk.” Thom recommends. “And once we get out of here, I’m giving the guild a piece of my mind!”

Vetnik catches a glint in the sand. He calls out below to the gnomes and party members doing their best to dig the front leg out of the earth. “I see something ahead!”

Lyssa and Grunt work to repair the leg. The gnomes bark at Grunt in Gnomish before realizing he doesn’t speak their language. With Grunt’s carpentry skills, they work together repair the broken leg. After repairing the leg, Lyssa helps to develop a pully system to yank the up out of the earth. After completion, they request Vetnik, Wous, Strom, Grombor, Grum, the trio of Gnomes, and Moira’s help to pull the rope.

Together, the party struggles to bring the Spelljammer up out of the earth. The supporting structure built by Grunt takes the brunt of the impact and together the ship is set back upright.

After cheering, the Dwarven captain brings them back to reality.
“Can you ask Cortox to make this thing fly?” Grum jokes to the acolytes.

Lyssa and a pair of the gnomes head out towards the glint. It is a shard of broken, iridescent glass. Lyssa stops and yells out to the others. “You were right!”

Thom summons Spitfire and has him pick up the shard and drop it before the party. Lyssa freaks out and backs away from the others while Grunt handles it. As they discuss what to do, Trisoll emerges from the ship and alerts the others of a band of 9 Thri-Kreen closing in on all sides of the ship. Grum and Grunt duck into the shadow cast by the ship while Vetnik sprinkles a dust of disappearing over himself before sprinkling it over Thom. Vetnik sneaks towards the band of scavengers and watches as they’re intrigued by the insectoid ship, clicking to each other in excitment.

Grunt eyes the leader of the pack from beneath the ship and calls a shot to hit the leader in the face. He lands the arrow into the Thri-Kreen’s face and watches as the arrow burrows through its head and fells the creature. Seeing the victory, Grum leaps from the shadows and stabs at one of the Thri-Kreen, cutting through its exoskeleton. He jams his second dagger into the creature’s skull and destroys it. Thom begins to sound the drums of battle, which only confuses the Thri-Kreen. Vetnik strikes quickly with two hits, felling a third beast.

Trisoll and Lyssa rush up to the deck of the ship. Vetnik slashes at another Thri-Kreen, delivering another crushing blow. Grum picks another target and stabs at a second Thri-Kreen with Lyn. He breaks the creature’s leg, shedding torrents of blackened green blood! Thom continues to drum while Moira admires her man at work, swooning over his barbarian from the safety of the bridge. Grunt fires a pair of arrows into another Thri-Kreen. The remaining Thri-Kreen strike back set their sights first onto Grum. It swings with two of its four arms and hits before sinking its poisonous mandibles into Grum’s shoulder. Thankfully, he resists against the paralyzing effects. A second Thri-Kreen attacks the unarmored Vetnik in the same manner. He is punched three times but is nimble enough to miss its bite. Grunt is attached, punched twice before being bitten. The party watches as he slumps to the ground, overtaken by paralyzation. Thom breaks from drumming and returns to visibility to strike at the Thri-Kreen, felling the injured one.

Thom quickly lunges at a fresh Thri-Kreen with his blades, stabbing at him twice and injuring it. Grum rushes after an untouched Thri-Kreen and fires off two arrows with focused accuracy. From above, Trisoll calls out: “I see dust in the distance!” Moira strains her eyes to see what’s in the distance. Lyssa shoots an arrow from up top into the Thri-Kreen biting into Grunt. Vetnik charges at a Thri-Kreen and cuts into it before hacking off its right leg, slaying it. One of the last the Thri-Kreen lashes out at Grum but Grum dances around the attacker, evading all of its attacks. The other Thri-Kreen stumbles in attacking Vetnik.

Trisoll squints and sees centaurs rushing down towards the fray. Thom takes on his brother’s attacker and cuts it down with two lightning fast strikes. Vetnik takes on the last of the Thri-Kreen and jams his blade into its thorax. Vetnik saunters over to the last Thri-Kreen and steps upon his neck, cracking it.

Just as Vetnik lifts Grunt off the ground over his shoulder, the centaurs ride up and thank them for killing the beasts. One centaur hands Vetnik a vial of liquid (smells like reeking fungal mess) and he pours it into Grunt’s mouth. Grunt begins feels his muscles begin to relax. Vetnik lowers Grunt back to the ground and introduces himself to the head of the pack.
“I am Vetnik Talthraudii.”
“Quill. We thank you again for dealing with these pests!”

Vetnik notices the centaurs look different, with golden olive skin and draped in ornamental sashes. “This is Belam, Coutan, and this is Trisoll.”
“Wait, what?” Trisoll says.
“My name is Trisoll.”
“Holy… my name is Trisoll too!”
“Our names are not the same” the centaur says with disdain. “We are nothing alike.”
“Why were you after them?”
“They’ve been raiding villages throughout the Dry Steppes. You’ve done us a great service. What is this great thing?”
Captain Drubin steps in defensively.

The party shows Quill the shard and explains what brought their ship down.

Thom and Lyssa flank Belam a mile outside of the area of effect until they’re awashed in their magic once more. Belam sits on the ground while Lyssa casts Mind Scan over him and digs through to pull imagery of Kanak. Belam gallops away with their request to fetch the others. They eventually see only the core party cross the horizon and close in. Vetnik and Moira lug their heavy metal armor in packs on their back. Lyssa casts Teleport and the party links arms and are engulfed in a radius of sparkling red energy before emerging before the strange village of Kanak. They take standard formation and head into the village.

They find a merchant who is ownership of indentured servants. Moira uses her feminine wiles to woo the merchant into lowering his prices for 50 hired hands. Disgusted by the merchant and the conditions he keeps his property in, Lyssa attempts to charm him but is kept out of his head by a charmed amulet. The party settles on a price and rent 50 servants before purchasing 8 trunks of wood. Together, they spend 12 days crossing the desert back to the Spelljammer. On the fourth day the party spot a pack of buzzards circling and trailing above them. The sixth day they encounter sand rats but watch as they scurry off. On the 12th day, they come upon the camp of centaurs outside of the ship. They roll up and Lyssa rallies the servants and the gnomes together to push the ship onto the planks of wood. Together they push and pull the ship across the sand. A few minor setbacks open the party up to an attack. Something from the sand touches one of the workers and forces him to fall to the sand asleep. Lyssa urges the servants to keep working while the party fends off the creature. The monster (a human figure made entirely of sand) swipes at another worker but misses. Vetnik’s aura of bravery steels the morale of nearby workers. Vetnik charges ahead with sword drawn and slashes twice. The creature makes no sound or show of pain. Thom drums for bonuses while Lyssa fires off her projectile dagger. The blade sticks but as the creature moves, the blade falls to the ground. Moira slashes at the thing with Starstrike with destructive fury and watches as the blows turns the shape back into loose sand. Vetnik violently shakes the worker back to wake.

After defeating the sandman, they see the ships wings glow a green hue. Travaren begins to hover to the cheers of the crowd. Lyssa donates 1000gp to the crew with the condition they buy their freedom from their masters. They openly revere her, which makes her uncomfortable. They give her Geshtai’s blessing in Baklunish and watch as the crew boards the Heaven’s Heart. They wave and cheer enthusiastically as the Spelljammer jets off back up into the sky.

The crew flies above the Drawmij Ocean, seeing the endless horizon of water. The ship propels faster and faster, per Travaren’s impatience, and the crew goes under deck. The horizon continues for three days, across 600 miles of monotonous seascape. Suddenly, a figure appears in front of the ship with ebon skin, with coils of air writhing around him. He stares into the ship with unblinking eyes burning with white light.
“You are to stop! You are approaching a protected area.”
“Can you help us? We are in search of Kellagha.”
“Who are ye?”
“My name is not important. You’ve intruded on the lands of the Wind Dukes.”

Thom and he make a deal and he reveals his name to him: Vaastri.

They beseech the man to let them pass. He turns to them and says he senses valor in them. He parts the veil and reveals the hidden land on the other side of the world, with three moons hanging in the sky.

Lyssa feels the connection to the magical energies of the realm saturate her in ways they never had back in Greyhawk. Thom feels a similar feeling but with less intensity. The acolytes hold hands and stare out into space, their eyes sparkling with marvel. Even Moira gasps at the sight of the three large moons. Vetnik stands beside her and feels Moira reach down and grip his hand tight with excitement.

View

APR/2015

Pilgrimage

WORK IN PROGRESS…

Semi Precious – Smoky Quartz (80gp)
Fancy – Aquamarine (flawed, 140gp)
Gem – Black Sapphire (10k gp)
Gem – Star Ruby (flawed, 4000gp)
Gem – Emerald (large, 7000gp)
Jewels – Necklace (Black Sapphire, 6 Black Opals) (11k gp)
Ornamental – Eye Agate (20gp)

4030gp each
1000gp for 2 scales

TWO WEEKS

VETNIK:
Vetnik gets word from his mother in his father’s voice. They tell him that they’re thinking of him every day. They urge him to return home when all is accomplished. He also receives the jawbone that was given to his father by Lyks after being taken from Kr’zzt’s corpse. Receives 3 powders: Sleep, Disappearing, Revealing.

Vetnik shows Lyks the jawbone. When Lyks touches the jawbone, he feels the tingling of a dark force shoot through him like thousands of spiders up and down his spine. “I will find you,” Lyks mutters before putting it in a case with his vial of Drow skin.

Vetnik arranges to meet with Vortis while Moira is at service. The pair meet and Vetnik offers him a bottle of Lyks’ wine.

GRUNT:
Finishes paying off his home.

Fashions a new suit of blue dragon-lined leather armor.

GRUM:
Shops around for strange and dangerous aquatic creatures to outfit his underground moat.

Hangs out with the Red Nails and establishes a stronger relationship with them. Courts them as new followers.

THOM:
Begins to gather followers to oversee the building of the Black Fort while he travels to Kellagha.

Lactile approaches Thom during the two weeks and tells him that he “doesn’t have the dexterity he used to have. My history, my knowledge is sharp but I can no longer play. I can no longer be Bardmaster. I want to offer you as a nomination to oversee the tutoring of young students.”
“As long as the education mostly includes swordplay and drumming, sure I can be their teacher.”
“Shape the guild how you will, but I will share my knowledge and history if you do take me up on this offer. Be my hands.”

During the two weeks, the board of Bards shows almost unanimous positivity towards the decision to take over for Lactile. The bards-in-training are excited to receive a fresh, younger take on the craft.

“I hope I’m still around for when you return to take the mantle!”

Thom also spends time working on new weapons uses the pieces of Blue Dragon they harvested.

LYSSA:
Ebeviria informs that the guild has reorganized into a council for the sake of democracy. She is a councilwoman. All attempts to put Glarius into suspension fail due to the shrapnel embedded in his skull. The shard of the Eye renders all magic items and potions null. She gains access to deeper magics known to Ebeviria.

She visits Violetta who has bonded with the two girls from Pek. She informs her mother that she will be leaving but will try to keep in touch. She fetches the Eye and leaves but is called murderer as she leaves the house.

Blue quartz (50gp) x 2 (sapphire)
Onyx (80gp) x 3 (onyx)

TRISOLL:
Spends time with his father. Tells his father that he’s jealous he’s not a twin and doesn’t have a sibling to call his own.

MOIRA:
Spends time with Vetnik and shares her enthusiasm with going to find Barth. Spends a little time at the church.

Night before they’re set to depart, Moira visits Vetnik at Pimpleton Manor. She comes armorless. Burbis greets her frantically and allows her in. Moira finally gives it up and guides Vetnik to take her.

Vortis and Violetta show up to Pimpleton to see the party off. No big meal awaits the party due to George’s absence. Vetnik swears to Vortis to keep his daughter safe.

Violetta escorts the party to the church of Cortox to the church’s hangar in Gasgal Park. Inside they see a massive, dragonfly shaped ship. Two men man the crew, a frantic dwarf and slender, tall elf.

“This is The Heaven’s Heart. I am Travaran, I assume you are to be our passengers?”

The party and six acolytes board the Spelljammer and are introduced to the other captain, the frantic dwarf with his crew of 3 gnomes.

Thom sketches from the cabins below deck while Lyssa hangs close by, feeling uneasy about the travel.

During the third hour, those on deck see a bunch of streaking multicolored lights zipping around the ship. They swirl around those on deck, and after awhile, they break away and shoot away from the ship with great speed.

The sun slowly began to set as The Heaven’s Heart continued westward towards the vast Dramidj Ocean. Those on deck watched as the sun slowly fell into the horizon from above, a rare sight for most of those on board. The sky had a strange, new coloring unfamiliar to them, only visible to those who occupied the clouds. The wind coursing through their hair, the parties marveled in united silence, absorbing the journey towards what they all once believed was the edge of the world.

Below deck, Lyssa sat quietly beside Thom, whose attention was split between his sketchbook and the view of the mountains view from the window of their cabin. The sunset created dramatic shadows and highlights over the vast mountain range that seemed to push Thom to sketch more and more intently. Lyssa occasionally glanced up from studying from her spell book to enjoy the view below – and even took a moment to watch her companion sketch with renewed excitement. It was a moment of peace that all on board seemed more than willing to surrender to.

“Do you know what mountain range that is?” Lyssa asked Thom. “The one we’re flying above?”
Thom peered over the edge of his sketchbook for a moment before returning to his drawing. “We’re heading west, I believe. My guess is the Crystalmist Mountains.”
Lyssa continued to stare at the crags below. The name of the mountain range sparked something vague in Lyssa, but the memory was far too shapeless to recall. She put it in the back of her mind and continued to enjoy the view as best she could, watching as The Heaven’s Heart passed beyond the seemingly endless mountain range into flatlands and deserts.

Back on the upper deck, Grunt kept to himself towards the stern of the Spelljammer, away from the rest of his party and the awe-struck missionaries. The captivating beauty of the skyscape was inescapable even him, and for a moment, Grunt seemed to be at peace. That peace was fleeting, though, as he heard the sound of footsteps creep up behind him.

“Pardon me,” a gentle woman’s voice squeaked from behind.
Grunt’s nostrils flared as he huffed at the intrusion. He crossed his arms and rested them on the edge, slumping down away from the approaching woman. The woman parked up right beside Grunt, apparently oblivious to the thief’s body language. Her approach was polite but naïve; two qualities Grunt seemed to have no time for.
“It’s beautiful out there, isn’t it?” She was Aela, the half-elf missionary.
Grunt said nothing in return.
“Cortox’s majesty is truly endless!” Aela continued after an awkward pause. Grunt remained silent. His silence only seemed to provoke Aela more. She turned to face him and began again, with even more invasive enthusiasm. “Don’t you agree?”
Grunt slowly began to turn to face her, but before he could bark her away, a disturbance interrupted. Grunt and Aela braced themselves against the edge of the deck as the Spelljammer began to rock suddenly and violently. Those closer to the mainmast also braced themselves and looked to the skies in search of ambushes or disturbances.

Down in the bridge, Travaran struggled to keep the Spelljammer steady. He could feel his magical connection to the rest of the ship begin to flicker in and out of control. The golden helm that surrounded his head with a cool, green glow also flickered. Despite his best efforts, Travaran could feel something keeping his mind from the rest of his vessel. Staring at the horizon, he pushed himself into more intense depths of concentration but the more he pushed, the more he could feel his power being snuffed out. All of a sudden, the turbulence that overcame the ship stopped. Travaran watched from the cockpit as the horizon began to tilt. He threw up the unpowered helm and called out to those above deck: “Brace yourselves!”

Those on deck watched as the glowing green wings of the Heaven’s Heart faded in and out. Captain Durbin knew the signs of a magical outage and raced to gather his crew together.

“Men! Get to the bridge! Everyone else, get below deck!”

Amidst the panic, Lyssa tucked herself away and began to focus on casting a recently acquired spell, one that could surely suspend the airship from crashing to the ground. He closed her eyes and pressed her hands against the hull of the Spelljammer, concentrating on channeling her own magical energies. Despite her best efforts though, she could feel something blocking her from exercising her power. As the Spelljammer continued to fall, Lyssa could feel a pressure overcome her, stifling her ability to release her magical energies.

“Lyssa, if you have anything to help, now is the time to use it!” Thom shouted, doing his best to brace himself.
“I’m trying! I’m trying! Something’s wrong, I can’t—“

The Heaven’s Heart began to torpedo down towards the flat, dry earth. Those on board did their best to prepare themselves and huddled together below deck. It was too late though. The Heaven’s Heart was a heavy vehicle (the size of a galleon) that had suddenly been stripped of the mystical supports that kept it afloat. Travaran watched as the Spelljammer spiraled towards the earth. He jumped up out of his seat and rushed out of the bridge, calling the trio of Gnomish crew members to follow. They abandoned the bridge and rushed towards the cabins as the Heaven’s Heart smashed into the ground. The iron legs of the Spelljammer took the brunt of the impact and scraped through the dry earth. Despite it’s fine metal craftsmanship, the earth and intensity of impact proved too much for one of the legs. The Heaven’s Heart jerked forward and sent those below deck tumbling through their cabins violently. The Spelljammer had landed, its leg twisted, its body angled towards the ground. The passengers and crew took a moment to dust themselves off and get their bearings. Even Vetnik felt the aches and pains of the crash. He and Moira were first to act, helping the missionaries to their feet and out of the Spelljammer. The others straggled out, taking with them whatever weapons of theirs they could find as precaution. Outside, Captain Durbin was quick to rally up his men and together they rushed around, totaling up the damage. Travaran rubbed his head and looked around, astounded by the sudden extinguishing of his magic.

Lyssa looked out into the darkened desert. Above them the stars began to sparkle as the last traces of sunlight began to fall beneath the horizon. As she stared out into the wide-open space of the desert, she too felt something snuff out her connection to the magical currents of the earth. It was an immediate and suffocating feeling that triggered a more distinct trauma.

“No! No! Nonono!” she howled into the dusk. She spun around and rushed towards the Dwarven captain of The Heaven’s Heart. “Do you know what you have done?”
“What? What are ye goin’ on about, girl? Don’t ye go accusin’ me of foul things!”
Lyssa did little to hide her frustration from the others. She kicked the broken, iron leg of the Heaven’s Heart and stomped away from the ship and its captain before stumbling away from the party. The mage was soon wrought was visible panic as she stared out into the desert. Lyssa began to pace with excited breathing, unable to form a coherent response. The disconnection from her powers was jarring and sudden.

“What’s her problem now?” Grunt muttered to the others.

The others simply watched from a distance, unsure of what to make of her tantrum. That is, until Vetnik recalled something: a story Lyssa had shared with the party several weeks prior.

“This must be where it happened?” Vetnik answered back cryptically, staring off into the encroaching darkness of the desert. Grunt and the others looked at him, perplexed.
“Where what happened?” Moira asked as she took her lover’s side.
“The Dry Steppes, beyond the Crystalmist Mountains. This is where the Mages’ Guild tried to destroy the Eye of Null. That has to be why the Spelljammer fell from the sky.” Vetnik looked out beyond Lyssa and scanned the flatlands and the black silhouettes of the mountains faintly cutting through the night sky. “Whatever the mages did here has raped the land of its magic.”

A sharp chill came over the party. The darkness slowly began to give way to the desert cold as well as the dread of the unknown. What terrors would a night in the vast Dry Steppes hold for the party – and without magic, they wondered, how they might ever make it out alive?

Thom put his hand upon the handle of his blade and sighed. “Nine hells.”

View

APR/2015

Standing on Broken Ground

WORK IN PROGRESS…

First to wake are Vetnik, Grunt and Moira. Moira spends her morning to speak with Vetnik in Grynoth. Grunt leaves the hut first to go scout the surrounding woods and freshen up.

“I couldn’t sleep knowing we might be able to save Barth. How my father died thinking it was his fault, I need to see this through to end to vindicate him.”
“I will be right by your side.”

Thom wakes up later and sees Moira leave to go on a short walk through the village. He goes out in search of an appraiser to determine the cost and type of the seven gems found in the Stone Giant cave. He jots down the costs and goes back to their hut to discuss the split between Lyssa. The pair come to an agreement: Lyssa will pay for what gems she needs/can afford and will leave whatever she can’t buy/doesn’t need to be sold. She also offers up her pair of blue dragon scales to Thom and the party as barter – whether they choose to sell or use in armor making is up to them.

Vetnik shakes Trisoll awake and the pair goes out in search of breakfast, leaving an exhausted-looking Grum by his lonesome in the hut. He finally wakes on his own after the others leave. He heads to what appears to be a small bazaar and sees a few witches working as weapon smiths. He is allowed to purchase from them Arrows of Slaying for 250gp an arrow. He has the witches enchant them to be effective in slaying Dragons (x2), Undead (x2), Giants (x2) and Fighters (x2).

Grunt returns to the center of the village and runs into Grum at the weapon smithers. He follows his teacher’s cue and purchases Arrows of Slaying for himself: Dragon (x1), Undead (x1), Giant (x1), Elemental (x1). With new arrows in tow, they spy Vetnik and Trisoll indulging in nourishing yet strange breakfast fare communally with several of the local witches. An attendant of Dablova’s comes to their spot and greets the men before requesting Trisoll personally to meet with her master. Trisoll gathers a bowl with the last of his food and rushes off with the attendant, confused as to why she wants an audience with only him. Vetnik and the others watch as he’s taken away and see the other witches still staring at them curiously. They finish up the rest of their meal and quickly return to their hut to meet with the others.

Later in the morning, a group of attendants come to the party’s hut to escort them to Dablova’s hut. They abide and go with; they return to Dablova’s hut and find her only in the company of Trisoll, Ukuduma, and Moloko. Dablova stands to greet the others and notices Thom enter first in his visible form. She remarks about his deep blue cloak and reveals that, underneath her own vestments, she too wears a similar navy blue robe embroidered with stars – only hers are metal and decorate the outside.

“I know you have been sketching Thom, for yourself. I trust these drawings will stay that way. Your parents were trusted allies, but it is a matter of great discretion that you keep them to yourself.”
Thom does her one better and tears the pages neatly from his sketchbook and hands them to her, an act that makes her beam with gratitude. She leans in and informs him that this act will be rewarded with another spell of his choice, all he has to do is ask.

While addressing Thom, she waves Grum through and asks about their parents. She reveals she’s tried to contact them but has not been able to reach out.
“Father wished to return an item to an old friend, who happened to be on a different plane.” Thom informs.
“Ah, so he left the Prime Material?”
“We assume as much.”
“They’re fine” Grum remarks.

As the party continues to empty into her chambers, Dablova remarks on Vetnik’s strength and valor as a cavalier. She also compliments him on how courteous he’s been since his stay in Grynoth and apologizes for the curiosity of her people but notes that they still have an apprehension towards seeing warriors in Grynoth after being subjected to abuses from decades past at the hands of traveling warriors.

“While your father may be abiding by the cold customs of his people, I know his true heart and how deeply he cares for you and wants you to do well.”

Vetnik bows before her and thanks for her the warm regards. Dablova smiles softly before moving down the line to Grunt. She reveals to him that she senses a sort of sadness to him, some kind of longing. She asks if he would like for her to search his mind for any potential source for this depression (his past, his homeland, etc.) but he scoffs. She doesn’t press further but reminds him that her calmative isn’t available outside of Grynoth.

She moves to Lyssa and hands off a scroll very matter of fact like. Before releasing the scroll to her, she reminds her that the scroll is very powerful and if she wishes to tap into that kind of organic power not found in guilds and universities, she has an invite to study with her coven.

Finally, she comes to Moira. She takes both of the paladin’s hands into her own and leans in. She whispers to her (Thom eavesdropping as clear as day):

“I have but one question. Your father, Drayden, did he ever get that tattoo he promised for me?”
“He did. It’s the symbol of an owl. He told me stories of you, and though you had your differences, he told me that you were there when he needed you most.”

Dablova nods and smiles before thanking the party for coming. She wishes them well and tells them that finding Barth is as important to her as it is to them. She welcomes her attendants and chains their magic to hers. Dablova says one last goodbye and the witches begin to chant and intone a teleportation spell that sends the entire party back to the gates of Greyhawk.

As the party ride into town discussing the best possible way to get to Kellagah. They wonder whether or not it’s best to follow Dablova’s advice on going back to Blackmoor through the Hell Mouth or if there are any other means of getting there, perhaps by crossing the Great Oceans. Vetnik suggests that they try a means of transport that Lyks had told them about: Spelljamming. He urges Moira to reach out to the Church of Cortox, whom are said to have two in their own keep.

“I am not in the best place with the church right now, Vetnik. I don’t know if they’d even entertain such an idea, let along having it come from me.”
“It has to be better than anything called the Hell Mouth,” Grunt grumbles.
“He has a point, we don’t know what lies in the Hollow World.” Thom supports.
“They may ask a boon of me, especially since I’ve been so neglectful in my duties.”
“Everyone has a price,” Vetnik assures cooly. “Besides, I plan on having many adventures in our lives.”
Moira smiles, feeling reassured that Vetnik feels confident in this mission to get her brother back.

The party rides through town and arrives at Pimpleton Manor. Outside, the yards look unattended to. No one answers the door when knocked, so Vetnik and Trisoll enter unannounced. Inside, they find the house unlit with the exception of faint light from his study. Only the smell of Lyks’ burning pipe lingers in the air. They head to the study where Vetnik knocks. Lyks barks at Burbis to open the door for them and he does so. The party finds Burbis to be polite let visibly tired, a stark contrast to Lyks who barely acknowledges the party’s return. Burbis offers to make them some Gnomish lunch (consisting of found vole and boiling veggies.) Grunt and Thom shrug and accept; Burbis leaves the study to prepare a meal while the others fill in Lyks on what they found in Grynoth.

“Uncle Lyks, you need some help here while George is away.”
“I can take care of it myself!” Lyks fires back at Moira with a low, exasperated tone.
“Master Lyks, we’d be more than happy to pay for some servants to come help out around here, or at least to give George a hand when he returns.”
Lyks does his best to cut the pair off and change the subject. “What did you find out—“
“Uncle, this home is too big. Let us help George at least. Alright? Please, you cannot live like this”
Before Lyks can protest further, Trisoll urges his father reconsider. He hugs his father and Lyks relaxs. “I missed you, boy. “

The party sits at Lyks table and begin to recount what happened at the coven.
“What did you find out? How is she?”
“Dablova?” Trisoll begins, “I mean… she’s different than the stories I remember hearing about her when I was younger.”
As Trisoll recounts his interaction with her, Lyks stares at Moira, reading her for any trace of change in emotions.
“She’s very nice. She was really hospitable. A little odd, but…”
“And what else?”
“Well, she said she saw Barth.”
Lyks watches as Moira inhales deeply at the sound of her brother’s name.
“She saw him in some strange land she called Kellagha. Do you know it?”
“No.”
“She says it’s on the other side of the world.”
“I’ve been from coast to coast, but have never been across the Great Oceans.”
“She said the ‘best’ way to get there was through a place called the Hell Mouth, which we found in Blackmoor. But—“
“Out with it, boy.”
“Well, Vetnik had an interesting idea. You know about those Cortoxian ships—“
“Spelljammers, yes. You want one of those?”
“Yes! I mean, to us, it just seems like a safer option than going through something called the Hell Mouth.”
Lyks ponders on the idea for a moment. “I’m sure it would only take a donation.”
“But the church is growing and thriving. I don’t know how willing they would be to donate one to us. They’d perhaps be willing to drop us off on their own quest, but—“
“Given the circumstances, I’ll go down and talk to them myself!”

Lyks staggers up using his staff to balance. Moira quickly jumps out of her seat to support him. He calls out to Gibbs, his bear mount, to ready himself for a ride. Moira agrees to come along with him. Lyks urges that his son escort them as well, but Trisoll reminds his father that he’s not the best when speaking to diplomatic types. Thom requests a bottle of Lyks’ nicest vintage, and before Lyks can protest, he reveals to the druid that he is in possession of a Philter of Persuasiveness, which he explains he’ll spike the wine with if necessary.

“Only as a last resort,” Thom says with a wink.

The thieves depart on their own while the others head to the Church. Lyssa takes off as well and heads to see Ebeviria at the University to get the latest on Glarius’ condition as well as to tell Ebeviria about the magic she saw in Grynoth. On the way to the church of Cortox, Lyks explains his own experience with piloting a Spelljammer. How, through use of a magical helm, he was able to telepathically pilot the ship through the skies.

At the church, Moira heads the party and leads them inside – all except Trisoll, who waits outside with Gibbs. An acolyte greets her and she replies, “Please tell Jemmen that I am here to see him.”
“My apologies, Lady Steelshaper, but he is presently very busy. I can arrange an appointment for later when he is more free—“
Lyks speaks up from the back of the party and approaches, his wooden staff clanging against the marble floor. “Then tell him Zemilay Lyks would like a word with him.”
“I’m sorry, Druid. But as I said, Jemmen is not free for an audience right now so—“
Moira leans in and begins to intimidate. “What is your name?”
“I—“
“We are here on a mission of the utmost importance. You know my name and you know what weight it carries here.”
“Yes, yes I do… I’ll go check again.”
“Very good.” Lyks grumbles.

After 7 minutes, Jemmen (older, balder and bearded) steps out to greet the party with varying degrees of warmth.
“Ah, Zemilay Lyks, and Moira Steelshaper, the paladin. I was told you needed to speak with me with the great urgency?”
“Do you have time to sit with us?” Lyks asks.
“My servants seem to this matter is a priority for me. Eh, Moira?”
Moira stares blankly back at Jemmen, silent.
“You have my ear. Come.” Jemme says before leading them to his chambers.

Lyks sits down while the others back him, across from Jemmen. He requests, on behalf of the Champions of the Stars, if they may ascertain one of the church’s Spelljammers. Jemmen sighs.
“You wish to use one of our Spelljammers? For what purpose?”
“There is a great evil lurking on the other side of the planet. In a land called Kellagah. My heroes, they need to go there.”
“And this is the responsibility of the church how? You understand my vehicles are involved in commerce and missionary work.”
“Then spread the good god’s message on the other side of the world!”
“The other side of the world? There is nothing there.”
“No, there is.”
“There is, and if you lend us your Spelljammer we can prove it to you!”
As the two men’s discussion grows more and more heated, Thom interjects. “Do you know what it would be, for you to spearhead the first mission to the other side of the world? And for it to be in Cortox’s name no less!”
“This could be nothing more than a goose chase based on rumor.”
“Then all you will have lost is time.”
“And use of our ship. I fail to see how we are to gain from this. As an added plus, you bring with you our illustrious Paladin who has been all but absent from her duties as a sword of this church.”
“You do not need to bring her into this. Do you forget who her father is?” Lyks fires back with wine-soaked anger. “Do you forget what he did for this church? What I have done for this bloody church? I helped give you your god back, show some gratitude!”
Jemmen, as well as the others, sit back and let Lyks vent and watch with mouths agape.
“Do you forget that I was there?”
“And we are grateful—“
“I don’t think you are. If not for the Steelshaper girl’s fathers, or myself, you would be without a lord and savior! Spare me your excuses! I think this is a small favor to ask and if it’s a question of your precious Spelljammer, I have more than enough funds and resources at my disposal to make sure it returns to you in one solid, shining piece!”
“What good is it for a church that looks to celestial bodies as divine to only explore half of the celestial body it exists on?” Thom reasons with a calmer tone.

Lyks leans across the table and stares Jemmen down with an intense glare. He hisses at the priest: “There is an evil brewing across the Great Oceans, an evil I don’t anticipate will stay hidden for very long until we do something about it. We! As myself, my friends, and my children have done and continue to do for generations. You should be grateful—“
“I should be grateful?!” Jemmen blasts back, offended.
“Yes, grateful. Grateful that we would put our necks on the line to defend this land from something none of us can truly comprehend!”
“You come into my church and speak to me as if you would a child—”
“Because you reason like a child! I am far older and have been doing this since before you knew who Cortox was! I have a name in this town and a duty to uphold.”
“As do I, Grand Druid. To protect the word of Cortox and those that follow it. I would expect a man of your station would have a better understanding of protocol!”

The two men pause while the others watch with held breath. The air left behind from the tense exchange begins to cool after a few moments. Lyks does his best to cool his temper before beginning again.
“I think you should hear me out, Jemmen. What we are trying to do is stop something terrible from destroying everything you and I hold dear.”
“I should listen to you? You, who brings before me this paladin who seems to have forgotten her own station and duties? You, who keeps the company of murderers and thieves and lauds them as heroes? I know what company you keep, Zemilay Lyks.
Moira steps forward before Lyks can respond. “And what has the church done for me, Jemmen? Every time I step outside of this city I see death and suffering because of religion gone wrong!”
“I’ve known a lot of the leaders before you, Jemmen. You ought to step back and see what you’re doing for this church.”
“I was chosen by Parthis Marren himself! It was upon his passing that I took his mantle. I will be very frank with you, I do not appreciate the way I’ve been spoken to in this church. Especially if you are to ask a favor of me! I do not forget what you have done for Corox, Zemilay Lyks, but I cannot bend to the whims of all of those who have done good by our church. I do not know what the church of Beory allows, but this is behavior the church of Cortox does not permit! This is not how it is done.”

“Do you know how many lives you could save?” Lyks asks.
“You will listen to me now, Lyks. I will offer you the use of one of our Spelljammers under two conditions. The first: you lead a band of missionaries there to spread the good word on the other side.”
“Fair enough. The second?”
“Moira Steelshaper is to stay here in our company. She has much to duties to fulfill to the church and they shall be taken care of.”
Moira jumps up and slams her fist down upon the front of the desk beside Lyks.

“No! I must go, this is for my brother! I cannot stay behind, I will not let you do this!”
“Your brother is not a part of this church. You are a paladin of this church, you must fulfill your duties. The word is final.”

Moira pauses, her nostrils flaring with heat and anger. Before Jemmen can continue to negotiate the terms of usage with Lyks, Moira quickly tears the badge of Cortox from her armor and slams it down on the desk in front of Jemmen. The priest looks up to her and sees her standing there, her chin up and defiant.

“What are you doing?!” Vetnik asks, rushing to Moira’s side. Moira continues to stare down Jemmen.
“No. I will not abandon my brother. Not for this church, not for anyone. I will find my own way there and bring my brother back myself if I have to!”
“You would throw this all away?!” Jemmen says, taken aback by her brazenness. They stare each other down for a few moments longer until Jemmen hangs his head.

“I have been a fool. Moira, I’ll sanction you to be a part of the missionary team. Take back your badge.”

Moira quickly does as she’s told, whispering thanks to her leader. Jemmen reveals that he will have a Spelljammer ready for them in two weeks time. Lyks nods and thanks him for coming to his senses and arranges for a donation to be made to the church (1000gp). The men shake hands and Moira bows before Jemmen in gratitude before the party departs. Lyks hands off a bottle of his wine (free of Thom’s philter) as a peace offering.

“This is how you negotiate like a diplomat, Druid. I understand your passion. I– “
“Enjoy it. Thank you for your time. ”

Back at home, a courier delivers a parcel care of the prestigious House (XXXXX) as payment for helping to capture the fugitive assassin G’aldem M’lek. Inside waiting for them are 2000pp. (285pp per person).

At the Thieves’ Guild, Grum goes to see Thurman, who is eager to speak with Grum regarding his recent adventures as well as informing him about the state of the Red Nails. Thurman proposes to Grum that, should he wish to take on any more charges, that he feels the remaining, loyal Red Nails could use a new leader (Asteria, Orlande, and Marit).

View

APR/2015

The Beckoned

WORK IN PROGRESS…

After slaying the erinyes, the party realizes they’re 2/3 the way to their destination, westward towards Gorsend. Cleaning up the mess, Vetnik goes to the convent noticing that Moira has been away. Moira hears Vetnik approaching and steels herself. When seeing him, she loosens up.

“Look what this has wrought. Why? I don’t understand!”
“You’re asking questions that men have asked for many years. This is war.”
“These women sought nothing but to express their faith and they paid with their lives.”
“Is that not what devotion is?”
“Does it make it worth it?”

“I’m letting my father down!”
“You’re letting neither of your fathers down. These are experiences we grow from. Life isn’t easy.”

The pair hug and Vetnik comforts her before excusing Moira. She asks Vetnik for his shield to break the ground.

She returns to the party to tell the others that all inside are dead. Grunt comments “How many holes do they need?”
“How can you be so insensitive?”

Trisoll and Moira speak in private.

The unseen servants help to drag the bodies out and push the dirt out of the holes. Moira says a prayer to both Cortox and Cuthbert. The party scans the convent for signs of a ritual that might have summoned the erinyes. Grum finds a secret panel via his gem of seeing that opens up to a consecrated altar for the Lolth. Vetnik and Grum have a moment.

“Maybe it’s another clue.”

Vetnik smashes the altar furiously, annoyed that the creature of myth is making a return to their lives.

Trisoll and Moira return in better spirits. Once hearing of Lolth’s altar, Trisoll urges that the convent be burned to the ground. Before burning, Grum finds a pair of fancy gems: 2 crimson garnets. Grum gives them over to Lyssa per their agreement. The party leaves and Lyssa casts Wall of Fire inside the convent, setting it ablaze.

While the church burns, Vetnik notices Moloko circling above and heads northwest. He points it out to Grum and Grum & Grunt lead the pack.

Vetnik asks if Trisoll is ok. “Yeah. I’m not happy about seeing Moira seeing like this. She’s the best one of us.”
“Thank you for talking with her.”

Grum locks onto Moloko and the party rides in its direction. The first hour back on the road, the party sees a trio of men fleeing from a small path off the main road to the main road with shovels, picks, and sacks.

“What d’ya make of that?” Grunt
“We’ll talk to the cavalier about this.” Grum says, waving Vetnik over.

The trio of men pay no mind to the party and try to zip past them.

“What do you want?”
“What’re you running from?” Ve
“None of your business!”
“What’re you up to?” Mo

Both knights spy the equipment of graverobbers. Vetnik rides after them and yanks the leader by the collar.

“If I put you down it’ll be to smash you back into the ground.”

The men drop their gear and empty their pockets.

“We didn’t get anything!”

Vetnik tosses him to the ground while Thom slips away to investigate down the smaller path. He finds at the center of a medium sized glade a freshly built mausoleum. As Thom checks it he sees several desiccated corpses dressed in rags emerge from the mausoleum to tend to the grounds, polishing the stone and trimming the grass. Thom continues to watch as they light the lanterns in front and once done with their duties, all but two return to the crypt while the rest stand guard.

After not hearing from Thom, Grum/Grunt sneak off to find him. As Grum moves, he crunches a branch beneath his feet, which tickles Grunt. Both melt into the shadows and come upon Thom’s vantage point. The brothers call out to each to other in secret. They triangulate and meet up and Thom explains to them what he saw. Thom asks the thieves to stay while he reports to the group.

The party moves into the brush on horseback. The thieves and the dead can hear them, but do nothing. Vetnik spots shield of heraldry and deduces the mausoleum belongs to a minor Lord. Thom uses local history and deduces it to belong to House Bathis and that the tomb belongs to Ogar Bathis. The Bathis family is rumored to have been involved in cult activity but it was never confirmed.

Lyssa attempts to throw a rock at the tomb but fails. Lyssa tries a second time and it hits the door. The dead do not react but the door slides open and two servants come out and scrub the scuff off the door before returning inside.

Thom invisibly heads towards the door. He picks up no further clues about the tomb. Standing inches away from the door. Neither corpse guard takes notice of him. One is a human, the other an elf. Thom pushes the door open with his longbow with little resistance. Both servants turn to the center and say, in dry husky voices, command Thom to stop. Thom tries to climb up the mausoleum and sees the corpses draw their old, rusted weapons. Thom jumps down and climbs up a nearby tree. He sees them return to their original formation, weapons sheathed.

Vetnik and Trisoll confront the guards. Trisoll tries to turn and finds that his turn undead doesn’t work on them. The party decides to leave the mausoleum, leaving the Crypt Servants to tend to their master’s tomb.

Second hour the party comes across two stone giants who have just killed cattle from a nearby farm and are dragging back to their lair. Thom opens up by drumming to hit, buffing the party. The pair of giants rushes the party with cattle corpse in hand. Vetnik rides towards them and slashes each of them with his longsword. Grum sends forth two arrows into one of the giants; first makes it but second doesn’t. Thom moves into striking range while drumming for the party to hit. As he drums, the giants attack. Vetnik is bludgeoned by one of the giants with a cattle’s corpse. The second giant picks up a giant bolder and hurls it at Grum, Grunt and Moira. Grum and Moira are both hit.

“Why are we doing this again?!” Grunt shouts.

Moira dusts herself off and charges at one of the giants, unleashing two blows against it. The first cuts but with the second, Starstrike causes major bleeding via hacking at his right leg. Trisoll runs forward and rushes to heal Grum. From the back of the party, Lyssa casts Phantasmal Killer on the unwounded giant. Grunt fires off two bolts from Hank, first misses but the second lands.

After healing Grum for a bit, Trisoll blesses the entirety of the party. The giants attack a second time. The first giant clubs Vetnik again with his cattle corpse but Moira just barely evades her attacker. Vetnik picks himself up off the ground and rushes to both of the giants again, cutting one of the giant’s injured legs. Moira sees Vetnik’s opponent weakened and charges at it. The first attack misses but slays with a second blow. From the back of the party, Lyssa watches a shadowy figure slash into the second giant and the party watches as the giant shrieks and falls to the ground, dead of fright.

Thom sends his familiar Spitfire to scout ahead in the direction of the giant’s lair. He returns to Thom and clucks the coordinates of the giant’s cave. Before they depart, Lyssa searches the corpses of the slain giants and collects 1000gp and 3 gems (precious aquamarine, fancy jet black gem, precious amber) on the male she’s killed. Finding nothing on the female giant, Lyssa carves out one of her eyes for later use in rituals. Trisoll heals Vetnik twice but is unable to recover all of his Hp.

Thom approached Lyssa as she finished rifling raiding the corpse she had psychically slain. He watched her unseen, for a moment, as she pocketed the trio of precious gems.

“Lyssa!”

The bard’s disembodied voice rattled the eager Lyssa. She darted her eyes around looking for some trace of her companion.

“You know the rules.”
“Yes, but it was my kill! Take the coin, just let me keep the gems.”
“You know we make most of our coin from finding gemstones. You don’t even have enough of your share to cover what these would fetch us.”
“You don’t know what I’ve got saved!”

“Fine, but at least let me have a cut from the jet stone when we return to Greyhawk.”

“I’ve never seen you take it like that before!” Moira remarked to Vetnik.

Moira comes over and shows concern over Vetnik’s condition. Vetnik shrugs it off but thanks Moira anyway for her concern before getting back on his horse. Thom scouts ahead with Grum and Grunt but not before casting strength over he and his brother. Inside the cave they see two infant giants writhing in a nest. Grunt goes takes the lead, pulls out his broadsword, and cuts the throats of the infant giants.

“They would’ve just died a slower death,” Grunt remarks, wiping the blood from his sword.

Thom and Grum find more gold (x3000) and 7 gems (XXXXXX) as well as a shield (Thom identifies it as +3 shield, which he gifts to Vetnik.) Moira carries both Starstrike and Blade’s Bane (her father’s shield).

The third hour of the ride is uneventful. They see Moloko circling above and watch him dive down through a standalone portal. The party finds themselves in an open clearing. They see Moloko dive down and past them and fade away into the horizon. They get close and they can feel something repel them. Suddenly the feeling begins to subside and they see a shimmering. Behind the veil they see on the perimeter several witches and warlocks maintaining a master spell.

They enter the village, which is humble — almost primitive — in nature. They see witches, warlocks and their familiars. In the center is a grander, more oval hut. The people are at first very surprised and backs off from the party. Moloko flies slowly and perches himself in front of the elongated hut. Vetnik walks up the small hill and sees attendants at either side of the hut. They allow the party to pass and inside and see a congress of 12 witches, a central figure with a figure beside her whose stature dwarfs even Vetnik’s.

The party is weirded out as to why they’ve been called to the hidden coven, headed by the eccentric Dablova. She tells them that she is an old friend of their parents’ and has been watching them since childhood. She offers them her special calmative (Serenity) which all but Lyssa enjoy – Grunt believes he’s even slick enough to sneak some into his waterskin – as well as potent healing for all those struck down by the giants on the way to Grynoth. After lounging about and enjoying the bohemian ambience, they continue to question why they were asked here.

Dablova excuses all in the party except Moira (much to rest of the party’s confusion) with whom she shares a vision she had of her twin brother. She tells her that she saw her brother Barth as a man, clad in black ebon armor atop an unfamiliar lizard mount. Around him were armies of Elves with skin of gold, alabaster, and sable wielding weapons of wood and stone. Wherever he was had an aura of evil to it that she could not discern the source of. She doesn’t reveal that she is her birth mother but instead gives Moira a scroll case with a small medallion attached to the end of it. Inside, she reveals, is a powerful Magic Jar scroll (lvl 14) that she must keep safe and use only if necessary: either in trapping Kr’zzt’s essence or trapping Barth’s soul in order to purify it before putting it back into his body. She excuses Moira to join with the rest of the party and together they take in the rest of the village, enjoying a fresh bath and some time to take in the mysterious Grynoth. Moira relays her talk with Dablova to the twins and Vetnik while Trisoll and Lyssa tour the grounds, remarking how intimidated they are by the new and different ways they see magic being applied.

As the party is away, Dablova has a moment with her familiar. She reveals to him that she did not reveal her full identity to Moira as there are more pressing matters on her daughter’s mind that she must to focus on without the distraction of revelation, but when the time is right, she will reveal herself to her. She then communes with the spirits using a vision spell. Dablova sacrifices her only two artifacts from raising the Steelshaper children and asks them two questions: where is Barth and what is the best way to get to him? The spirits take her offerings and return with two answers: a place called Kellagha on the other side of the world that is accessible via the Hellmouth in Blackmoor.

Once the party returns, Dablova shares her revelations with the party (without mentioning what went into getting them.) For their difficult journey, each member of the party is rewarded with special oils and potions:

All: Ointment of Flying (allows user to fly for 24 hours, 1 application)
Thom: Potion of Polymorph Self, free spell from Dablova’s spell book (undecided), 2 seeds for Gourd of Travel
Grum: Potion of Speed
Vetnik: Potion of Heroism (Super-Heroism if he’s above level 10)
Moira: Potion of Stone Giant Strength, Lvl 14 Scroll for Magic Jar + Phylactery (in secret)
Trisoll: Potion of Plant Control
Grunt: Potion of Climbing
Lyssa: Oil of Etherealness, Lvl 14 Scroll of (undecided)

After gifting the party with their potions and spells, Dablova offers a hut to them for the evening or to teleport them directly back to Greyhawk should they wish. The party agrees to stay the night in relative safety and relaxation, enjoying more food and Serenity and taking in the culture.

View

APR/2015

Happy are the Faithful

WORK IN PROGRESS…

Moira sat up in her bed with her face a mess of sweat and panicked tears, her legs curled and pressed to her chest. She looked through the thin, silken drapes of her bedroom window to the sky and watched as it brightened from its deepest blue into fading indigo. The bleeding of dawn washed over and soothed her back into the waking world.

“Daddy,” she whispered to herself.

Once the rising of the sun shocked her back into reality, Moira quickly opened herself and leaped off her bed. She rushed out of her bedroom down the hall towards her father’s room, where even behind the closed door, she could hear him draw nasally snore after snore. She paused at his door and rested both her knuckles and brow gently against it. A flash of early childhood memory flooded her vision: she remembered her and her twin brother rushing in early in the morning as children to wake both of their fathers. Despite his buttoned-up disposition, Moira remembered that Vortis always welcomed her and her brother into their bed with half-hearted reluctance and, eventually, a smile. Moira lifted her head up off the door, took a deep breath, and knocked firmly but calmly upon her father’s bedroom door

Moira could hear her father stirring and grumbling in his bed behind the door. She knocked once more and called out to him. “Father?” Moira asked, knocking a bit harder for a third time.
“M—Moira?” Vortis asked, wiping away the sleep from his face.
“Yes, father. I need to speak with you. Please.” Moira pleaded with a cracking voice.
“Come in,” Vortis replied as he sat up in his bed. Moira tried her best to wipe the last remnants of tears from her cheeks. She opened her father’s door and made sure to keep to the threshold, far away enough from her father as to not incite fatherly panic in him.
“Moira, what’s the matter?”
Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t help from shrinking before him. The sight of his daughter’s shaken state – her puffy, red eyes, flushed cheeks and sweat-drenched hair – shook Vortis out of whatever lethargy remained. “I need to speak with you and my uncles at once!”
“Certainly. I’ll send word to Tic-Toc to meet us at Pimpleton Manor at once, but Moira, what– “
Moira rushed into the unlit bedroom and threw her arms around him. She buried her head next to his and whispered frantic things in his ears. As Vortis listened his expression morphed from sleepy-eyed concern to shock.

Moira reveals that not only was it a memory, but that it also absolves her father Drayden of guilt. Lyks reveals he suspects it has something to do with an old adversary: Kr’zzt.

Later in the morning as the party gather to have their communal breakfast, they are also told of Moira’s recalled memory. A scratching at a nearby window interrupts their discussion and, when Lyks goes to check on it, he sees an old white barn owl. Lyks begins to speak to the owl through birdlike clicks and hoots and after a few moments, the owl flies off. Lyks reveals that the owl is named Moloko and that it belongs to an old friend of his. He continues on to say that this old friend has summoned the party to specific coordinates in Furyondy. With Lyks’ urging, the party agrees to leave in a day’s time.

At the University of Magic, Lyssa goes to see Ebeviria for the first time since the trial. She finds the Mage’s Guild in complete disarray. According to Ebeviria, a fragment of the Eye of Null shattered in the process of attempted destruction and pierced headmaster Glarius Gladstone’s skull. Now, all senior Mages are jockeying for his seat.

Before hitting the road, Lyks sits the party down for a crash course on all things Kr’zzt. He gives them tips on protecting themselves and their homes and also warns them of the kind of power he has (possession, mind control, invulnerability, etc.)

The following day, the party set off towards Furyondy, according to the coordinates. They cross the Nyr Dyv and enter the port town of Willip. They find its citizens a mix from shanghaied seadogs to affluent captains and trade barons. Grum, Grunt and Thom put forth a gentleman’s wager after seeing its dock area overrun by careless, drunken navymen. The trio lurk the taverns looking to see who can steal the most expensive haul. Vetnik and Trisoll follow behind, eager to enjoy a drunk or two, while Moira and Lyssa stay behind with the horses.

For their first heist, the pair of thieves comes across a drunken, belligerent sailor and they manage to steal the bulk of his coin. Thom manages to cut what he assumes to be a hefty coinsack only to find that its contents are lacking. Grum and Grunt head to a second tavern and Grum picks out a startlingly handsome (and richly adorned) sailor:

“Pardon me sir, but did you serve on the Sea Slicer?”
“No, but I wish I had.” Grum replied with a smirk before taking a seat across from the decorated sailor.
The sailor twisted the end of his mustache between his bejeweled fingers and smiled back. “Likewise. I feel like we would have had a great time serving her together.”
“Well, no sense in not enjoying each other’s company now. How about a drink?”
The sailor leaned back in his chair and welcomed Grum to his table. As Grum sat down, the sailor snapped his fingers to summon a nearby barmaid – making sure not to take his eyes away from the thief.

The sailor introduces himself as Cerus Margen and tells Grum about his early life as a farmhand who escaped to the navy after leaving a strict, unaccepting father. Grum begins to feel sympathetic. Cerus likes that Grum is more refined than the rough trade on the seas. Grunt follows Grum inside and sits down in an empty bench near the men’s table. Cerus proposes that they take a change of scenery and Grum agrees to it. Cerus excuses himself for a moment and while he’s gone, Grum and Grunt quickly outline a new plan for robbing the sailor.

At the bathhouse, Cerus took it upon himself to treat he and his new friend “Cerul” to a private bath. Grum coolly indulged in Cerus’ request for intimacy and together they were led past the public baths to the private rooms. The disinterested attendant gathered together fresh towels and ladled the hot coals with a fresh splash of water. The attendant quickly excused himself and left the pair to enjoy in the steaming warmth of the room.

Both men carried an attraction to each other that was hard to contain but it seemed both men were experts at not showing their hands too early. However, as both men disrobed and set their things aside, their eagerness was more than apparent. Grum lead Cerus to the tepid pool before bunching up both he and Cerus’ things in a pile on a bench near the door. Grum was careful to place the jewels he could on the very top of the pile before placing his own cloak over it as to keep from being completely obvious. Grum slinked over to the pool behind Cerus. The sailor reclined against Grum as he slowly but firmly began to press his hands across his shoulders. Cerus wriggled in delight, surprised and delighted by Grum’s skillful fingers.

“Mmmm! This was much needed, dear Cerul!”

While Grum continued to work Cerus’ shoulders, he looked over to the door and saw a shadow appear underneath it. Grum kept his eyes fixed on the door watched as it creaked open. Fearing the sound of the old wooden door might alert Cerus, Grum quickly and intensely leaned down and pressed his mouth against the sailor’s ear. Grunt continued to slowly open the door an inch or two more, just enough to slip inside the steamy room. Grum fired a side-eyed glance at his charge as he lapped up his sailor’s ear and neck – an unspoken signal to hurry and leave the men to their enjoyment. Grunt scooped quickly surveyed the room and noticed a pile of clothes topped with Grum’s jet-black cloak. He leaned down and noticed beneath it a smaller pile gathered underneath it. Grum furrowed his brow at Grunt; Grunt quickly scooped up his master’s cloak and the contents bundled within. With the haul in hand, Grunt quickly slipped out of the room and closed the door as quietly as possible as Grum’s hands continued down past Cerus’ work-hardened torso into the warm water of the pool.

With the boys off gallivanting from tavern to tavern, Moira and Lyssa continued to wait with the groups’ goods and horses in relative silence. Lyssa was deep in arcane study, impervious it seemed to the boisterous distractions of the docks. Moira shared her time between watching both her companion and the drunks mingle and chase after one another. As the hour neared its end, Moira watched as navymen and catfish alike slipped into taverns and alleyways to revel away from prying eyes. With the streets before them nearly empty, Moira took the quiet time as an opportunity to speak with Lyssa as she had promised. She moved towards the bench Lyssa was quietly sitting at and sat beside her. Lyssa did nothing to acknowledge her and continued to murmur passages to herself. Without provocation, Moira began simply and softly:

“Why did you do it?”

Lyssa’s mouth froze in mid-recital. Her jaw tensed as she struggled to process the forwardness of Moira’s question. Without looking up from her spell book, she replied pointedly. “You know exactly why I did what I did. I kept it from you because it had nothing to do with you. With any of you.”
“We could have helped you,” Moira urged, inching closer to Lyssa. “We could have found justice for you and Violetta"
“I…” Lyssa began before stopping herself. She sighed as she both struggled to find the right response as well keep her temper at bay. After a moment, Lyssa began again with a less pointed tone, “I did not mean to do… what I did. I thought if I could see him, I might be able to understand why… how someone like him could live the life he lived while we worked tirelessly for his gain. Things just…”
“I understand,” Moira said as she placed a comforting hand on Lyssa’s shoulder. “I believe you when you say it wasn’t your intent. What you took was vengeance and vengeance is not the way. Had we been able to address the issue within the law we may have been able to embarrass the Cerzan family. Nothing is more important to those types than their damn social status. The younger Cerzan seemed sensitive to your plight as well. Perhaps an opportunity lost—“
“It doesn’t matter now,” Lyssa said, cutting Moira off and slamming her book shut. “I made him a martyr and reminded my mother of what she feared in me.”
“Your mother has grown into a more devoted acolyte than even myself I fear. Her newfound faith has given her the infinite capacity to love, and to forgive. She no longer fears you Lyssa. You are her only true tether to this world.”
“She may be able to forgive, but she won’t ever forget. No one in Greyhawk will. Not her, nor you, nor Lyks. No one. What good a tether am I if she constantly fears I’ll snap?” Lyssa sat up off the bench and stormed towards her horse. Moira remained seated, watching as Lyssa struggled to put her spell book back into her saddlebag.

“That may indeed be true. The knowledge of your heritage becoming public is more than troublesome but nothing proves true intent more than action.” Moira stayed seated on the bench and did her best to maintain a calm and compassionate tone. She continued to urge, “show the people of Greyhawk that you are not your grandfather’s daughter. That you are your own woman and yes, you can make mistakes but you can also make amends.”
Lyssa stopped rifling through her sack and twisted herself back around to face Moira in frustration. “What if I can’t?”
“For the death of one man, a man who made his way on the backs of others? I’d say the debt is not beyond your reach. I don’t condone what you did, but I understand. We are allies now and always Lyssa. I choose not to judge you as it is not my place to do so.”
“The worst part of this is… it was all me.” Lyssa replied in a low, desperate voice.
“Your anger doesn’t make you a monster. We are all capable of failing to act in the appropriate way. Sometimes you just get it wrong—“ Moira retorted, holding back a similar desperation.
Lyssa looked at Moira curiously. She could tell something intense was bubbling just beneath the surface. “What do you mean?”
“I… I saw my brother drifting away and I didn’t speak up, I should have seen what was to come! I have also failed Lyssa… and yet I choose to stand against that failure and if given the chance to do the right thing, I will always endeavor to do so.”
Lyssa was captivated by this leaking vulnerability, despite Moira’s best efforts to keep up appearances. She could hear the trembling in Moira’s voice as she spoke briefly of her brother. Before Lyssa could pry deeper, she heard the rustling of armor and familiar jovial laughter approach them. Almost instantly, Moira stiffened up, straightened her shoulders a bit and put back up her veneer of confidence to welcome Vetnik and Trisoll back from their bar hopping. Lyssa let Moira have a moment with the boys and watched her greet Vetnik with a soft kiss on his cheek and oblige Trisoll’s ramblings with an almost believable enthusiasm.

Thom soon returns with a brilliant blue cloak inlayed with a pattern of four metal stars. Lyssa offers to cast detect magic over it and uncovers that the cloak itself is unremarkable, but the stars its embroidered with radiate powerful magic. Several minutes later, Grunt sneaks back to join the group with jewelry and without Grum. He shows off his haul but Thom wonders where his brother is. Grunt tells the party that Grum is at the baths and may be a while. While waiting on Grum, Thom memorizes and casts identify over the stolen garment and finds out that it’s a cloak of the stars!

After finishing an intense session, Grum and Cerus prepare to check out from the bathhouse but not before Cerus finds out his items have been taken. Grum gives him false consolation that seems to woo Cerus. They part ways and before meeting back with the rest of the party, Grunt stops at the bazaar where he buys and sends Cerus flowers and a new fire opal ring.

After leaving Willip, the party travel along a tributary deeper into Furyondy…

As the party continued down the quiet woodland road, the clusters of trees began to thin as they neared the tributary that cut through it. Near one particular clearing, they could hear the rustling of stumbling steps against fallen leaves and grass. Suddenly, Grum spied a shape unsteadily moving through the forest. He pulled his horse to a halt – a signal to the others to do the same – and watched as the figure emerged. In the distance he saw it: a young woman of tall and slender frame drabbed completely in white robes embroidered with the symbol of the cudgel. A more disturbing detail troubled Grum though. The robes, as well as the hands and face, of the mysterious woman were covered in what appeared to be fresh blood.

She appeared to be without weapons of her own. The party watched from the safety of the main road as she stumbled down towards the riverbank as if in a daze. From what Grum could tell the woman bore no wounds of her own either but he could not be certain from the road. He waved to Grunt and the pair slid down from their horses to get a closer look while the others waited and watched. The pair of thieves took opposite sides as they sneaked down towards the riverbank, both careful in each step as not to alert her. Grum was first to reach her and once behind her he lingered there in the shade of nearby trees. As he waited, he could hear the woman mutter something over and over to herself as she scrubbed her hands clean in the silty water.

“Such a waste. Such a waste.”

Neither her voice nor her washing could be described as panicked though. Rather, there was a languid quality to both. He motioned to Grunt to move back up to the main road. Grunt obliged and sneaked off ahead of his master. Grum stood and watched her for a few moments more before following Grunt. Watched and waited for some kind of change in demeanor from the woman. Whatever daze this woman was in seemed to disturb Grum even more now that he’d seen it up close.

Back on the road, Grum reported his findings to the others.

“Is this woman in any kind of danger? Does she need assistance?” M
“She doesn’t seem to be in her right mind.” Grum
“She could need our help. Vetnik?” M
“It’s possible but—“ Grum
“Moira and I will go check it out, the rest of you stay in reserve.” Vet
“Well what if she’s the one who did something bad?” Gr
“Well, she could be just another one of those… seers. Like the one we met outside of Blackmoor.” Ve
“Oh, you mean like that insane haruspex who assaulted me? Have fun.” Lys

Vetnik and Moira ride down to the tributary and as they near the woman, the sound of their horses and clanging metal armor alerts the woman to their presence. She stops washing her hands in the river and turns to greet the knights.

“You seem quite distraught,” Vetnik commented.
“I am. A madness came over my poor sisters!” The woman replied as she stood to reveal the magnitude of the filth that soiled her once crisp, white robes.
“Your sisters?” Vetnik continued.
“Yes, yes. We are all acolytes, humble billets in His service. We have a convent just down this path.”
“Who do you serve?”
“ Saint Cuthbert of the Cudgel.”
“Is this the blood of your sisters?”
“It is,” the woman revealed before hanging her head in mourning. After taking a moment to compose herself, she looked up to Moira and extended her hand to her. “Paladin, will you come and help me consecrate them, my sisters?”
“Yes, of course.” Moira replied without hesitation, taking the woman’s still-damp hand into hers. The woman’s face collapsed in an expression of desperate relief. She turned to Vetnik once more.
“And you cavalier? You are strong! Will you help me lay my sisters to rest, help me to bury them?”
“Yes,” Vetnik answered back, briefly glancing at Moira. “Absolutely, but you must tell us about this madness that overcame your sisters.”
The woman’s mouth tightened as she nodded her head obligingly. She let go of Moira’s hand and began to lead the party down the beaten path that ran along the river and deeper into the woods. The forest had an eerie calm to it, accented by sparse sound of leaves crushed beneath the party’s feet and the droning chirp of insects.
“We have worshipped together for years in peace but not too long ago their passion for Saint Cuthbert seemed to wane out of nowhere. They no longer did their duties with the same amount of devotion and vigor they once had. They seemed to care more about their own vain desires. Then—“ the woman cut herself off from speaking further as they continued deeper down the trail.
“Then what?” Vetnik asked. The woman said nothing at first as if trying to concentrate on the path ahead. With the main road further enough behind them and no longer visible, she continued.
“They began to say things. Things about me! Vicious, wicked lies!”
Vetnik noticed the woman’s temperament turn increasingly more erratic as she continued on about the events leading up to the death of her sisters. He softly jerked his reigns and steered his horse ahead of Moira’s at the very front of the pack.
“Sounds cruel to me.”
“It was! They were! The most awful things were said too.”
“How much further is the convent?”
“Just right up the road. Anyway, their true intentions soon began to show and I knew they were conspiring against me!”
“How did they die?”

Just as Vetnik asked his question, the woman stopped at what appeared to be the end of the path. There the party could see the open yard in front of a humble convent surrounded by trees. In the yard there lay a single wooden totem, a carving of a man’s arm holding the cudgel of St. Cuthbert upright. Now it lay in a patch of untamed grass. The air was crisp and as the breeze blew through, it carried with it the scent of recent death.
“They were murdered,” the woman flatly said with her back turned to the party.
“How do you know they were murdered?” Vetnik asked as he slyly slid his hand down towards the guard of his longsword. Moira watched Vetnik and knew something was afoot. She motioned to those in the party behind her to ready themselves before she carefully began to slide down off her mount. The woman’s throat began to hum with a low buzzing sound like a chorus of locusts. She spoke once more, her voice now cold and accented by the strange cacophonous sounds. “Because…” Vetnik and Moira took sudden notice of the woman’s back. Her torso began to jerk and torque while her limbs and head remained perfectly still. “Because I fucking killed them myself!”

The woman whipped her head around and the party watched as her long brown hair coiled together and quickly hardened into a crown of twisting, pointed horns. Massive wings covered in deep crimson feathers exploded from her back and tore away her blood-and-mud soaked robes to reveal a statuesque nude body covered in rows of ever-emerging spines, spikes, and wiry feathers. Despite these changes, the creature’s face still carried the beauty and allure of a comely human. Moira’s studies in the church had taught her legends of such disturbing and lascivious creatures. Rumored to be fallen angels themselves, what stood before them was a lesser demon of a most ancient order.

“ Erinyes!” Moira snarled as she prepared to charge the demon.

Before she drew her blade, Trisoll pushed his ways towards the front line behind Moira and Vetnik.

“In Trithereon’s name, I cast you back into the Abyss,” Trisoll commanded with the holy triskelion of his patron raised high into the air for all to see!

Despite this bravado, Trisoll felt no blessing surge from the medallion down through his body. The erinyes cackled at the priest’s empty commands but Moira was quick to silence her. Moira drew Starstrike and swiftly dragged the blade across the erinyes’ belly. The winged beast fluttered back just enough to avoid the blade’s deepest cut and she looked to Moira, her fanged jaw clinched together as her lips twisted from demented smile to offended grimace. In return, the erinyes flapped her mighty crimson wings and released a gust of wind that blew throughout the yard and past the party. The gust kicked up loose dirt and leaves but more sinister than that was the spell the gust carried. Vetnik and Moira turned to see Trisoll’s expression descend into absolute fright. He quickly tucked his holy symbol back under his tunic and clawed his way past the knights and away from the convent. As they watched Trisoll flee, the party also watched as Lyssa spurred her horse into action to retreat away from the clearing. Vetnik’s hair began to stand on end and he shuttered as he felt a sudden presence press against his mind. He drew his sword and spun back around to see the erinyes’ gaze focused squarely on him. He furrowed his brow and watched as the erinyes began to furrow hers in concentration. Vetnik’s barbarian mind proved to be not such a simple place. Moments later, the erinyes felt herself expelled from inside of his head. The erinyes screeched in disgust, offended that a mere mortal could resist her charm. Vetnik stared the fiend down with a smirk that only seemed to anger the fiend more. Before the erinyes could strike out at the knight, a duo of thin, silver rays of light zipped across the yard towards them. The erinyes flapped its winged and swatted away the rays that, once hit, fell to the ground as two long silver arrows. The erinyes looked back to see Grunt sitting atop his horse with his mysterious longbow drawn. He began to pull his arm back and she watched as thin wisps of glowing silver mercury came together to form not only the string but also the arrows themselves!

Vetnik rushed the seemingly distracted demon on horseback but found that the erinyes was not only more alert than he anticipated, but that she was also most nimble. Despite his strength and speed Vetnik struggled to get a beat on her as she almost mockingly leaped out of range. Vetnik jumped down off of his horse and just as she stepped into range, Grum jumped into action bearing both Lyn and Slå: the lightning strike daggers! Grum slashed at the erinyes with Lyn and watched with amazement as she bended back and ducked beneath his swing effortlessly. Little did the demon realize that Grum had stunning reflexes of his own! Before rising back upright, Grum lifted Slå into the air and drove the electrically-charged blade deep into her left thigh. The erinyes shot straight back up and met face-to-mask with the thief, whose blade sizzled as it sent jolts of electric energy through the stab wound. Grum quickly withdrew his blade and tumbled backwards to escape her and watched as ink-black blood slowly ebbed from the wound down her leg. With the erinyes wounded and distracted, Moira took a chance and brought Starstrike down upon the very same leg Grum had pierced. Her blade collided with the erinyes’ scaly thigh upon the very wound Grum had left. Moira struggled to tear the blade out of the erinyes’ leg and watched as the fiend wailed while tearing its own leg from the sword. Before the erinyes could attack Moira, another round of Grunt’s radiant arrows zipped through the air in rapid succession. The first of the arrows completely missed but the second found a home and lodged itself in the bulky tendon of her wing. Thom leaped in once more with his silver-edged katana and slashed furiously at her, but the erinyes shrugged off the bard’s attacks with a flap of her wounded wing. Just as Thom prepared himself for a second attack, he watched as the erinyes spread her wings wide open to face Moira, woman to woman. Even Thom marveled at the sight, but only briefly, when the look he saw in the demon’s eyes shook him. The erinyes’ fiery eyes were suddenly flooded with a blackness that Thom himself recalled.

“Moira, look away!” Thom cried out.

Moira turned to Vetnik and gone were her pristine amber eyes, replaced by orbs of black void. As the paladin drew her blade, ready to charge her barbarian companion, the erinyes’ body quickly dissolved from sight. Thom knew this trick all to well as he often played it himself. With a single, confident wave of his hand, an arc of shimmering golden particles appeared in the air above those battling in front of him. He clenched his fist and watched as the golden arc shattered into millions of tiny specks of glitterdust. The sparkling particles rained down upon Moira and Vetnik, and outlined the invisible fiend. The party watched as Moira staggered back, wildly rubbing her face with one hand while doing her best to balance Starstrike with the other. Before Vetnik could reach out for Moira, he saw the shape of the erinyes covered in glitterdust. He watched as she flapped her wings in a vain attempt to blow the golden dust off of her body and away from the battlefield. Vetnik quickly maneuvered around the blinded Moira and, with his longsword drawn, he swiped at the gold-speckled shape. With the first swing he could feel the blade drag and cut against the erinyes’ flesh but it was with the second where he felt his blade sink deep into the unseen thickness of the demon’s body. Vetnik watched the glittering silhouette of the erinyes struggle to pull her body from off of the end of his blade. He quickly glanced at Moira and saw her continue to struggle to regain her sight while swinging Starstrike flimsily and frantically like some cornered beast. With one mighty thrust, Vetnik ripped his sword up through the torso of the wounded demon. As his blade tore through the erinyes’ shoulder, her bifurcated body instantly returned to the visible plane with a geyser of thick, black demon’s blood. Her corpse dropped to the ground, motionless and still covered in golden glitter.

Lyssa and Trisoll stopped in their respective tracks and felt sudden relief from the fear that plagued them. Both of their minds were calm once again. They turned around and looked at each other before looking down the path to the yard of the convent where the others remained. The demon’s fear spell had left them both in quite a state, so much so that the pair realized they were almost back to the main road! Lyssa grumbled and motioned for Trisoll to ride back together to join the others on her horse. Vetnik shook what blood he could off of his sword and spit in disgust at the erinyes’ wretched body. He looked around and saw the Black brothers and Grunt putting away their weapons as well. He then sheathed his blade before rushing to Moira’s side. As he placed his hand upon her shoulder, she snatched her arm away and continued to wipe her face more frantically than before. Vetnik stood back and watched Moira stumble towards the convent’s front doors. It was clear she was overwhelmed and as her companion, knew when he needed to back away. She had not only failed to slay the erinyes, but became its servant in attempting to do so. Though enslaved only briefly, the erinyes’ charm had slithered and burrowed its way through every private avenue in her mind and left behind an unholy, stagnant black trail that Moira found difficult to shake. Moira drug her sword against the beaten dirt path leading up to the doors of the convent. Her back remained turned to the others as she moved closer to the convent, her eyes red with irritation from the glitterdust. The others gathered themselves together and watched Moira stumble ahead. Though the erinyes had been slain, the aura of evil it left behind clung to the the convent grounds that felt like tiny pins shooting up Moira’s nervous system. Moira pushed the chantry door open without prior warning; in her heart, she already knew what was waiting for her behind the doors of the hallowed building. Death waited in all of its grizzly and uncompromising detail. Scattered on the floor and in between the pews were the bodies of nine of Cuthbert’s faithful daughters. Trails of blood from each body made chaotic and unreasonable designs from the floorboards, up the walls, all the way up to the ceiling of the chantry. Moira stood in the doorway and began to buckle under the weight of not only the horrid sights before her, but also the events leading up to her journey to Furyondy. To contain herself, she quickly clasped her gauntleted hand over her mouth as tears began to flood her quivering cheeks. She did her best to steady her panicked breathing but could no longer contain herself as she’d been trained to do. Her body was limp and made no effort to move aside as a pair of unseen servants summoned by Thom pushed past her to tend to the dead.

“We… we avenged you sisters,” Moira began to pray, sobbing through her rites. “May… may… Cortox… may He guide you safely from this plane and may Cuthbert welcome you to his kingdom with open and loving arms.”

View

MAR/2015

Recall

WORK IN PROGRESS…

Lyssa petitions to keep the gems found in their raids in exchange for a reduced share of the loot.

Dagger (3) – Lyssa
Wooden scale armor (human/half elf) – Trisoll
Hammer (2) – sell
Sword (1 longsword) – Grunt
Extremely lightweight platemail (2 Elven plate mail) – Grum
Sword (4 longsword) – Vetnik
Full plate armor (1) – Moira

As Thom relearns his identify spells, Kling-taa returns in Halfling form and informs them that he claims the coin as his own and that everything else is there’s to keep. Moira recalls that copper dragons are notoriously greedy dragons.

Lyssa raids the corpse of the blue dragon. She sees the heart has been torn out and is resting several yards away, dissolving in a bubbling pool of cooling acid. Lyssa searches for the blue dragon’s lightning gullet but it’s been destroyed by Kling-taa. She collects a couple scales, a piece of tongue, wing leather, and dragon’s blood. She asks Moira to help hack away the great horn on the dragon’s skull. As Moira saws off the horn, she looks at Lyssa and requests: “When things are calm, let us talk.”

Kling-taa transforms into a stone giant and scoops up all the coin he can. As he leaves the cave, he calls back and tells them “Know that you have a friend in Kling-taa.” Grunt hacks away at the corpse of a wyrmling to use its hide in the making of a helmet and blue dragon leather armor. Thom culls teeth and claws for use in making arrows and edge weapons.

Back in Casaille, Lyks and Burbis find themselves at the Cerzan compound. Lyks commands Burbis to scout ahead, much to his surprise. Burbis obliges, casting invisibility over himself and leaves. Burbis breaks into the compound and scopes out the first level of the house and moves upstairs on the second level. Downstairs, Lyks sees the reflection of shimmering lights. Lyks takes bird form and sees its Burbis casting a dancing lights spell to distract a group of guards. Lyks sees servants here and there coming and going about the compound. He hangs out hovering and after a few moments he sees Violetta leaving the compound with a basket of laundry. Burbis whispers to Lyks to come down.
“Violetta is here with the other servant girls, and four guards with three members of the Cerzan family (1 female 2 males).

Lyks returns to human, visible form and knocks on the front door. A servant girl answers.
“How may I help you?”
“May I speak with your masters, Lord Cerzan?”
“Who shall I announce you as?”
“Zemilay Lyks.”

The servant welcomes him inside after a few moments. He sees Violetta moving through the house among other servant girls. She is lost in her duties and completely ignores Zemilay. Lyks is led upstairs to Lord Corben’s quarters. The office is an example in luxury.

“Welcome to my home, Zemilay Lyks.”
“Good to meet you.”
“Likewise, such an accomplished man. I know very little of what’s transpired here.”
“I am here to inquire about procuring one of your servants.”
“I see. The one involved with the passing of my father?”
“Yes.”
“As I understand, she has remanded herself into our family’s keep under her own will. Is that correct? You understand, I’ve lost a father here but I have also gained great wealth. So… appeal to me in some other way. Why should I grant this woman her freedom?”
“Name your price.”
“Do you offer a boon?”
“A boon paid by me is a most substantial thing. So, how can I help you?”
“I believe there is a way you can help me, if we can make the extraction of said servant in secret.”

Violetta is brought in. She is shocked to see Zemilay here.

“My show of good faith. Now, Mr. Baggleton, shall we discuss of this intrigue?”

“Why did you come for me? “
“Don’t worry, you’re safe. Trust me.”
“I can’t leave without the other girls. They’re my converts.”
“What makes you think we’re leaving without the other girls.”

Burbis finishes outlining his illusion for torturing Violetta for public spectacle. He finds the act distasteful but will do it because Lyks asks.

Violetta pleas for the release of the other girls. As they speak, Burbis puts Corben under a charm spell. Lyks motions to her to rush and get the other women. Burbis has tricked Corben into believing he’s been given a tremendous amount of money for all of the women. After a minute, Lyssa’s mother returns to the office with the other servant girls.

“You have to trust me and we have to move fast. Come, quickly!”

They shuffle out of the house. Lyks leaves his sack of pp and commands Burbis to cloak them in invisibility. Burbis throws down a bag of lead and casts fool’s gold over it. “We were never here!” Burbis whispers mischievously to Lord Corben before the pair leave to meet with the other women outside of the compound.

Lyks unfurls the magic rug much to the servant girls’ horror. “You have 10 seconds to decide. Come!”

The women cloister onto the magic rug with Violetta reassuring the women that they’ll be all right. Lyks throws sleep dust over them, knocking them out as he and Burbis lead the carpet into the air.

Back in the cave, they decide how to get out of Dagger Rock. Thom casts Spider Climb over Trisoll, who loves the effect, and skitters up the walls with Thom.
“Stop fooling around and get up there!” Vetnik yells up to Tris. Lyssa meets the boys at the surface using a dimension door. She hands off one of the scales to Thom who uses it as part of a pully system. After about 40 minutes, they’re at the mouth of the cave together. Outside, Thom and Lyssa’s familiars wait with their horses.

Lyks returns to Greyhawk and drops the former servants and Violetta off at the church. Violetta thanks him and promises them sanctuary. “Cortox’s blessing to you, Zemilay Lyks.”
Back at home, Lyks finds George on the floor drunk, his eyes red with tears.
“Did Mellisandre finally break up with you?”
“No… she’s dead!”
“Tell me what happened.” Lyks asks, picking him off the ground.
“Someone killed her. Where was she found?”
“Her house.”
“I… I never forget…her blood! Without her, no more potions for me. I’ll wither and die.”
“We’re going to get you to bed.”
“I want to die!”
Burbis looks crestfallen and puts his hat to his heart and watched Lyks cart George to his bedroom.

Burbis and Lyks visit Mellisandre’s home and find the words scrawled in blood: I NEVER FORGET. Burbis scraps a bit of blood onto a piece of cloth and places it into his satchel.
“Go see Xanti. Ask her to scry. I will be in touch with her, but I must visit the church of Beory.”

Lyks goes to the church of Beory to commune with the spirits in Greyhawk with 6 other priests of the church. Their prayers are strong but they feel powerful attempts to block them from divinating. Through a crack in the psychic block, Lyks gleans a familiar and wicked energy but he can’t quite place its origin. Zemilay rushes back to Pimpleton, where Xanti does as she’s asked and consults her crystal ball. “I felt something blocking—“
“You have to leave,” he says to her coldly.
“No… Nonono, I cannot! Not again!” Xanti protests, sobbing into her husband’s chest.
“You must!” Zemilay replies, trying to keep his stoic front.
“What about our boy?”
“He is a man now and makes his own decisions and can protect himself. But you… I have to protect.”
Xanti throws her arms around Lyks and sobs her love for him. Tearfully, Lyks puts his hand on her head and channels the image he scried. Xanti gets goosebumps as the dark sensations course from his brain to hers.
“You must go. Leave your crystal ball here.”
Xanti looks up and Zemilay wipes away the tears from her cheek. She leaves her scrying room to begin packing up her things. Once alone, Lyks looks upon her crystal ball and with his might staff, smashes the orb.

Lyks returns to his study where Burbis sneakily follows. Lyks sits at his desk and after riling through one of the locked drawers, he retrieves a small vial with a piece of burned, black flesh. Burbis covers his mouth in horror, knowing the frightful source of the skin.

Back in the Bright Lands, the party saddles up and sets out back to the Celadon Forest and Thorn’s Circle. Their journey through the desert is uneventful as they enter into the Gnatmarsh and deeper into the sylvan wood of the Celadon Forest. In the wood, Grum spies at least six Owlbears trudging their way.

Grunt slips off his horse and tucks into the shadows. He aims Hank for one of the Owlbears and sticks a bolt into its backside. Thom unleashes burning hands upon another of the owlbears, setting its feathery hide ablaze. It also sets nearby brush on fire and retreats from the pack. Grum shoots into the owlbear that Grunt attacked and in turn it tries to escape. Vetnik rushes into the pack and cuts into one of the owlbears. Trisoll blesses the party (all except for Grunt and Lyssa, who lie just outside the range of the blessing.) The owlbears take the offense and rush the party. One of the owlbears slash into Grum, hacking into his left leg. Another lunges at Grunt and claws into him. Two of the owlbears rush Vetnik; Vetnik dodges the first completely but the falls into the second’s slashing claws. Moira rushes to Grum’s aid and quickly lays hands upon his gored leg. Unable to get a clear view of any of the owlbears, Lyssa struggles to direct a row of magic missiles and as such releases two of them with weakened intensity.

Two of the owlbears leaves immediately. A second lashes out at Grum, who continues to bleed out. Moira struggles to protect and heal Grum and fend off the owlbear. Grunt’s owlbear continues to slash into him. The pair of owlbears on Vetnik continue to slash into him. Moira slashes into Grum’s attacker and sticks it just enough to slay it. Grunt aims his blade for the owlbear’s soft belly but misses. With his attacker slayed, Grum quickly binds his wounded leg to stop the bleeding. Vetnik swings and cuts into both his attackers. Lyssa attempts to cast telekinesis but instead is flooded by a wild surge. Suddenly, she sees nothing in front of her. Behind her see hears the sounds of battle. She turns around to see her companions fending off the owlbears (she was turned 180degrees). Thom drums while Trisoll rushes in to heal Grum futher.
Grum supports Vetnik by firing a pair of arrows into the owlbear engaged in battle with him. Both attempts miss. Trusting the Vetnik can handle himself, Moira bolts towards Grunt’s attacker and stabs it in the back with Starstrike. Despite the blow, the owlbear gets one last strike, causing Grunt to black out from the attack.
“I need aid!” Moira cries out.
Before Vetnik can react, his attacker swipes at him again. Thom rushes up to Grum and the pair fire off arrows back to back. Trisoll runs around to Grunt and blesses him with a heal prayer, bringing him back from the brink. Full of frustration, Lyssa casts telekinesis successfully on the owlbear attacking Vetnik and flings it 300 ft away from the cavalier. Vetnik nods thank you and rushes across the field and stabs into the last owlbear and fells it. Its corpse slumps down beside Grunt, Trisoll and Moira. Trisoll staggers back to his feet and gives a second healing blessing to Grum. Thom pats Grum on the back and reups his armor spell.

They forgo camp to ride straight to Thorn’s Circle. Melinore greets them after 2 days where she asks Beory’s blessing to heal Grum and Grunt (and Vetnik, though he’s reluctant.) “Thank you, m’lady.” He says with a stiff upper lip.
Melinore shows them back to the Ways of the World, where Trisoll opens up the portal with his ring. Vetnik steps in first followed by Grunt. Grum and Thom follow. Trisoll follows. Before stepping through, Moira places her hand on Lyssa’s shoulder and guides her through. Moira is the last to enter and together they are back in Greyhawk inside the Church of Beory.

“We should go back to the manor and check on Lyks.” Moira suggests.

After a 20 minute walk, they’re greeted by a tearful Xanti. She looks at Trisoll. “Mother, what’s wrong?”
She grabs him and holds him. Vetnik steps through and heads to see Lyks in the study. Moira follows then the Black bros, Lyssa and Grunt.

Lyks sits everyone down, his disposition even more abrasive than usual. He and Xanti enter the study, both emotional.

“Where is George?” Moira.
“George has taken a leave of absence.” Zemilay. “George’s lover, Mellisandre has passed.”
“That’s awful. Poor George.”
“It was no accident. It was murder.”
“Who?” Thom. “Was this a guild attack? How was she killed?”
“Her throat was slit and a message was left in her blood.”
“She was an accomplished mage. How could—“
“A long time ago she helped us. I promised her safety, but it was a promise I apparently could not keep.”
Moira draws a sharp breath. Vetnik grabs her hand and squeezes it.
“Kr’zzt is coming for us.”
“What was the message that was left in her home?” Lyssa
“I never forget.” Lyks

“Is that why mother has to leave?” Tri
“Yes. I’d send you away too but you’re too stubborn.” Zem
“Well, father. We’ll end this. Once and for all. No more living in fear, for any of us!” Trisoll says with false bravado.

“Lyks, my father still has his jaw. It’s how I know of his story.”
“Contact your father. We must keep the last remains of him safe.”
“Do we have a plan?” Th
“I’ve been slowly ruminating plans for years and years—“
“Kr’zzt killed my grandfather.” Moira says tearfully. “I know the stories. We have to stop him! We have to find my brother and redeem him! We have to find Barth.”
“Trust nothing and no one.”
“I have to go see my father!”

The party parts ways. Vetnik stays with Trisoll at the manor. As the party begins to part ways, Lyssa pulls Zemilay aside and asks about Violetta. He tells her that Violetta is safe at the church.
“What may I do for you at this hour?”
“Violetta, is she here?”
“Sister Violetta is resting. “

The attendant welcomes her inside and Violetta comes. “Your friends are wonderful. Not just me but my new sisters as well. I’m so happy you’re not imprisoned. I know … I understand why you did what you did and you’ll find forgiveness in the next life. I have certainly already forgiven you. It is not my place to judge.”
“But do you think what I did was wrong.”
“Yes. But as my daughter, I love you unconditionally.”
Lyssa awkwardly says goodbye to her mother and leaves her at the church.

Later that night, Moira has an all too vivid night terror, a dream of the five original children stumbling upon a small silver disc. The disc is the source of a luminescent rip in the fabric of space. Moria’s brother Barth lets curiosity get the better of him and bravely steps forward, disappearing in a flash of light. Young Moira charges after her brother, calling out his name, followed by the rest of the children. There on a twisted plateau she sees a wizard. A furious battle is underway between the mage and a shadowed foe. The movement of the children distracts the thaumaturge and he turns away from his opponent to shout a warning. The warning is cut short however as a mammoth fireball immolates the wizard. The children, consumed by terror, dash towards the portal they entered. Barth hurries the Black twins, Trisoll and his sister through the shimmering tear in the air before finally making his way through. He pauses as he exits and looks back, his gaze meeting that of the unknown nemesis. Barth’s eyes grow wide as he cannonballs through the rift and hits the ground in a barrel roll before righting himself. The other children are a small distance away and the young Steelshaper takes this unseen opportunity to snatch up the silver disc from the meadow and secret it away in a small pouch.

Moira slowly realizes her dream is actually a recalled memory. She starts to think back to the times Barth seemed distant after that, distracted even. The bond of siblings never the same going forward. The pieces begin to fall into place as Moira feels an unspeakable thought take purchase in her body’s center, her muscles beginning to spasm in horrific realization. Her brother’s imaginary friend “Zee zee” could only be their parents’ most formidable foe, the one who had vowed their utter destruction. Kr’zzt, the dread drow wizard was the one guiding him into the darkness.

View

MAR/2015

Bolt from the Blue

WORK IN PROGRESS…

It had been a week since the city of Greyhawk was abuzz with the trial of Lyssa of Bayerton and the murder of one of the city’s patriarchs: Lord Seron of House Cerzan. Despite this though, life went on in the city. Lyssa had heeded the advice of her friends and mentors and kept to herself. She withdrew herself from Greyhawk by day, only occasionally venturing out under the cover of night for lonesome walks through the city, careful to avoid the judgmental glare of fellow townsfolk. Elswhere, her mother, Violetta, was well on her way to Casaille to serve her sentence as indentured servant to the Cerzans at their lumber trading post a week’s time away from Greyhawk. Despite her growing power, Lyssa heeded the initial advice of her companions to wait and let cooler heads prevail. Any reckless action taken upon the affluent house to retrieve her mother would certainly be scrutinized and bring even more pressure down upon not only Lyssa but her friends and their dealings as well. So, she waited, occasionally gazing into her hand-me-down crystal ball, unable to focus enough to dissect the murky visions of things that were, are, and have yet to be.

The party had not been together in total since the trial. A certain hesitation seemed to hover over them as a whole, and so, they divided their time among their own pursuits. Most of the party had sanctuaries and secret lairs to build and kept themselves distracted accordingly. Moira had noticed a certain lack of morale among her own workers since Violetta’s departure, something she too seemed affected by. Trisoll spent the week building his own sanctuary in the woods among his animal helpers, and while he appreciated their help and companionship, it did make him pine for the camaraderie of his humanoid friends. Despite having a more intimate companion in Melina, Thom felt the itch of adventure nag at him once more. That itch was only irritated further by the rumors that seemed cross he and Melina’s paths over the week. One in particular piqued his interest: it told of a treasure trove in a land recently visited, the Bright Lands. There, in a carved out cave called Dagger Rock, there was said to be old Blue Dragon that guarded a modest yet potent hoard of treasures!

After a week’s time the party rendezvoused at Pimpleton Manor to partake in a family style meal as they’d done many a time in the months they’d spent together. Those in the party who lived elsewhere poured into the house one by one, greeted by Vetnik and Burbis. Moira entered, greeting the ice barbarian with a soft and quick kiss upon the cheek. Grunt and Grum entered both reeking of a hard day’s work, having both spent the day toiling in the marsh land digging out the last of the earth for Grum’s bunker. Once almost entirely assembled, the party caught up with each other over tea and light-hearted conversation. The last to enter was Lyssa, who’d made good use of her ability to teleport as to avoid facing the people of Greyhawk. The reception to greet the introverted mage was much the same as it had always been, and for the first time in a week, Lyssa felt the warmth of something familiar. In the kitchen, George baked and boiled the night away on yet another one of his infamously elaborate dinners.

Xanti and Burbis (to a much lesser extent) set the table while Zemilay hobbled from out of his study to greet his younger charges. As the party gathered in the dining room, Grum pulled Lyssa aside.

“I just wanted to let you know I got word about your mother.”
Lyssa looked to him, silently furrowing her brow in tense anticipation.
“I sent Marit and a couple of scouts to follow her caravan to Casaille. It looks like she’s safe. She’s being treated well, well fed. She’s even converted most of the servant girls to Cortox if you can believe it.”
“I can,” she replied, her eyes darting back and forth between him and the others. “What else?”
“She… she is working though. The Cerzans have not spared her that.”
Lyssa’s sighed as she wiped the hair away from her face. She held onto Grum’s arm for a moment, a show of unspoken thanks before lumbering to her seat at the dining table.

Lyssa and Grum entered the dining room as Thom held court with the others about a couple of salacious rumors circulating through the seedier currents of town. “The town’s apparently overrun by orcs! More intriguing than that though is what I heard lurks back in the Bright Lands.”
“Weren’t we just there?”
“Correct, brother! However, deeper in the desert there’s a small cave called Dagger Rock.

“I have to go to Casaille,” Lyssa interjected. “I’m not asking any of you to come with me. This is just something I have to do.”

She asks the others not to come, but Grum insists.

Zemilay reveals that he is willing to purchase her back.

“What if what they want is?”
“Everyone has a price.”

A week after the trial, the party gather themselves together for another adventure. They organize a partnership with Raven’s Claw contacts to check on the town overrun by orcs while they prepare to head back to the Bright Lands to find Dagger Rock.

“Vetnik, send word to whomever you can from Raven’s Claw and tell them of the orc infestation in (VILLAGE NAME). The rest of us will ride to the Bright Lands. Lyssa, come with us. I can guarantee there’s no better vent of frustration than the chance to slay a dragon.”

Lyks and Burbis travel to Casaille to pay for Violetta’s freedom, taking to the air via Snowflake with platinum and a magic rug. 800pp.

The rest of the party sets off to visit the Bright Lands. Trisoll finds a Way of the World in the Celadon Forest, north of the desert lands. They take the Way from the Church of Beory to Thorn Circle, 5 days ride from the desert.

The emerge and are met by a gorgeous Elven attendant whose taken aback by the lack of a druid. She stands guard as Trisoll and the others emerge, but she relaxes seeing his dopey posture and gait.

“Hello stranger, who are you to come through the great Thorn Circle?”
“Humble students of Grandmaster Zemilay Lyks.”
“Druid of Greyhawk?”
“He’s my dad!”
She smiles and nods at him. “You must be a wonderful man. I am Melinore Silverleaf. The Council of the Thorn is not in congress at this time, but please feel free to use the grounds to your need. The lands are bountiful.”
Thom tries to woo Melinore but she seems unimpressed and is more taken with Trisoll.

She calls her horse, a unicorn named Selern to accompany the party safely to the edge of the forest. Thom continues to flirt, which she is more taken with. After racing to the edge of the forest, a woman’s shriek cuts through the calm of the forest. Vetnik rides ahead with the others following after.

“Sir knight! My child was taken by a goblin. He was taken into the cave, but I dare not enter.”

The company takes marching order into the cave with the knights at the front. The cave is moist, humid and damp. Moss and fungus run rampant. As they wave their torches, they see the glistening of green slime dangling from the ceiling across from them. Thom approaches and casts Burning Hands over it. Melinore sets her staff ablaze while Grum searches for traps and finds/dismantles a crude spear trap. Thom and Melinore work to burn it from the cave wall.

Moira takes the lead and rushes further into the cave. She spies a decline, and asks Grum and Grunt to scout ahead. Clinging inside, they travel deeper and encounter a nest of giant centipedes. Melinore casts Repel Insects. Further past the corridor, they hear the sound of a crying boy followed by metal scraping against metal and the mawing of a goblin. Grum moves forward but he kicks a rock, taking the attention of the knife-wielding goblin. Grum steps out of the shadows and leaps to attack, but misses just barely. Before the goblin can retaliate, Vetnik steps in and cuts him down with his longsword. Melinore gives Vetnik the child and together they leave the cave.

After handing off the child, Melinore leads the team to the edge of the woods. As the lush green fade to dusty, arid lands, Thom calls out to nature in search of a Familiar of his own. In the desert, he finds a buzzard, and names it Spitfire. A half a days travel in the desert, they hear a struggle between a group of beings. Grum and Grunt scout ahead silently. Over the hill they see a brilliant copper metallic Dragon being bound by orcs and bugbears trying to subdue it. Grum leaps in with Lyn and sticks a bugbear. While he dies, Grunt jams his short sword into a nearby bugbear – while not killing it, severly wounds it.

Vetnik charges in on horseback and finishes Grunt’s attack and follows up with a shield bash to a nearby orc. With one bugbear remaining, the orcs take action. The dragon urges freedom! Moira slays the last bugbear and calls out to the orcs: “Your masters are dead! You will follow if you stay!” Grum attempts to take an orc down but falls to the cracked earth. Despite this fumble, the orcs flee the battlefield.

Copper dragon Kling-taa shrinks down into the form of a handsome Halfling with copper eyes.

Down in the cave, the scouts and Kling-taa navigate through the carved out tunnels. They stumble upon an Otyugh digging through dragon shit. Grum quickly draws his longbow and while his first arrow misses, the second destroys its right leg. Thom leaps down with his Wakashazi and kitana in hand but both miss. Lyssa swings behind the Otyugh and immolates it with a burst of Burning Hands. As the beasts cries out in pain, Trisoll casts Spikestone and turns the earth beneath the beast into jagged spears of stone. Kling-ta turns the ceiling above into mud and rains wet earth on top of it.

Before moving on, Trisoll prays for Protection from Lightning and bestows the blessing on Vetnik. Lyssa casts Chaos Shield on herself. Thom enchants his katana blade and casts strength over himself and his brother. He casts invisibility on Grunt and together the party moves on to the chamber of the blue dragon.

Grum peeks inside the blue dragon’s chamber. A voice calls out to warn them but they see nothing.

Suddenly, those with exposed hair in the party could feel it begin to stand on end. The air in the chamber sizzled with electric energy, causing the flesh of the party to tingle. Vetnik quickly unsheathed his shield and together they stood, back-to-back, ready for the creature lurking in the darkness. Trisoll gripped his holy symbol tight to his chest and began to pray to Trithereon. As Trisoll uttered the final word in his incantation, his body was swathed in an invisible cloak of bravery. It was at that very same moment when those in the party could hear the buzzing of electricity echo through the chamber. Vetnik turned and could see a faint blue glow at the end of the chamber, but before he could react, the blue glow bolted straight towards them with a terrifying screech. The party braved themselves as a fearsome sight emerged out of the darkness and into their torchlight.

The beast was long and covered in rows and rows of shimmering blue scales. Crowned with a horn that resembled a small mountaintop charged with a bolt of lightning, its head and neck were covered in spiked, scaly ridges that crackled with static energy. This was a blue dragon of legend, and judging by its size and brilliant scaly decorations, this beast in particular was quite aged. The party rallied behind Vetnik as the blue dragon reared its scaly face. As it opened its mouth to reveal jaws laced with massive fangs, Vetnik could see the same crackling blue glow fill the blue dragon’s throat.
“Get behind me!” Vetnik called out to his friends out as the blue dragon arched its neck back. From behind the safety of his shield, Vetnik watched as the skin beneath the scales of the blue dragon’s throat burned blue as it flooded with electrical energy. The blue dragon released its terrifying breath of pure lightning with a great and horrifying roar! The once-dark chamber lit up with the blue glow of his breath. The party gathered behind Vetnik as best as they could, but the overwhelming power of the dragon’s lightning breath splintered off his shield and rained down around them, burning and striking them wherever possible. Grum quickly drew his daggers, Lyn and Slå, and raised them carefully into the air in hopes of attracting some of the dragon’s electrical breath. His gambit paid off as veins of lightning coursed into the blades, charging them up beyond capacity.
“Aghhhhh!” Grum howled as the daggers burned with electricity, heating the metal almost to the point of injury.
Vetnik gritted his teeth as his shield absorbed the brunt of the blast. He and Trisoll thanked Trithereon silently and separately for having blessed him with a well-timed protection against lightning.

Kling-taa steps forward and shifts back into his dragon form and physically begins to tear into the dragon. Vetnik gets his bearings and cuts into it with his longsword but misses. As Kling-taa moves the blue dragon out of the way, he reveals a blue dragon brood that begins to rush the party. Trisoll is the first to get shocked by the hatchling but he saves. Grum is the second target but he is less fortunate. Vetnik is the third attacked but takes little damage. Grunt stumbles back to his feet, breaks his invisibility and tries to fire from Hank; first misses and the second barely lands. Lyssa watched as her companions fought off the wyrmlings while Kling-taa continued to struggle in claw-to-tooth combat against the roaring blue dragon. Lyssa began to gesture with her hands and focused on the ribbons of mystical energies floating throughout the cave. With a wave of her hand, Lyssa summoned into being a writhing aura of magical energy that snaked from her hands towards the blue dragon. She watched as the ribbon of energy coiled around the massive dragon’s body and flickered, changing the very field of possibility around the beast. Despite its movements, the blue dragon couldn’t seem to shake the ribbon of energy. Lyssa had successfully hexed her first dragon! Trisoll casts Pyrotechnics over the torches in the party and blinds two of the hatchlings. Thom rushes in to take on the blue dragon and stabs him with his katana for 9. Moira finishes off the round by swiping at a hatchling but misses.

Lyssa continued to focus her magicks on the giant blue dragon. She honed in on the ribbon of unlucky energy coiling around the dragon and with a sudden flick of her wrists, she watched as the ribbon tightened itself around the body of the blue dragon and washed over him, engulfing him in an aura of paralyzation. Kling-taa was quite familiar with the effects of a hold monster spell and took the opportunity to sink his jaws into the throat of his held opponent. The blue dragon was barely able to wince as Kling-taa tore into his neck, shredding through lapis-colored scales and drawing blood that seemed to have a faint, electrical glow coursing through it.

Trisoll casts a blessing over the party, followed by a couple more bolts from Grunt. He attacks and his first arrow lands. His second attack misses and he stumbles. While the other two wyrmlings writhe blindly, the third lunges at Grunt and breathes its lightning breathe on him, almost killing him. A second wyrmling bites into Vetnik while the third claws at Trisoll, tearing into his torso. Thom continues to hack into the paralyzed blue dragon. Grum saves Grunt from a wyrmling, firing four arrows into it and slaying it. Seeing the paralyzed blue dragon, Vetnik rushes in to aid Thom. Moira continues to fight off the wyrmling and fends off Trisoll’s attacker, the first swing misses but the second cuts through its torso, disemboweling it.

Thom continues to hack into the blue dragon. Moira looks to Vetnik for direction, and he points her to the blue dragon. She charges at it but misses at first. The second strike pierces it. Lyssa fires a Lance of Disruption at both the hatchling and big blue. The wyrmling saves but the dragon cannot. Grunt slays the final wyrmling. Thom continues to slash at the dragon and is joined by both Grum and Vetnik. Grum is the first of the party to slay the dragon with a final arrow.

No longer held by Lyssa’s spell, the blue dragon’s battle-ravaged body buckled lifelessly to the ground, kicking up dirt and shaking the earth beneath the party’s feet. Kling-taa stood over the blue dragon’s body and let out a deep, throaty howl that echoed through every one of the caverns inside Dagger Rock. The party looked on as Kling-taa leaned his head down and began to lap up the still-warm blood of the fallen dragon with his long, coppery tongue.

“Everything,” Thom began cutting through the solemn silence, “every scale, every tooth, anything!” With their blades drawn, he and Lyssa moved towards the corpse of the blue dragon. Kling-taa lifted his head up and huffed as they sauntered forward.
“What are you doing?” the copper dragon asked, wiping the blood from his mouth. Thom paused and looked up at Kling-taa while Lyssa continued to move forward. “Show our fallen opponent some respect!” Lyssa straddled the gored throat of the blue dragon but paused as Thom and the copper dragon continued to speak.
“My apologies, Kling-taa. We mean no disrespect. If anything, we’d hate to let any piece of him go to waste!”
“Your attitude towards scavenging this pitiful corpse is quite unnerving.”
“We’re no different from the hyena or the vulture,” Thom began to reason. “His body’s no use to him now, we may as well put it to more… noble applications.”
Grum stepped forward, his weapons sheathed, and interjected in support of his brother. “Well to be honest Kling-taa, his body’s worth quite a lot to us. But, if you wish us to give you a moment, it’s the least we can do. We would never wish to disrespect either of you!”
Kling-taa scratched his scaly chin and pondered for a moment. “Very well. Allow me to commit his body to the grave. Then, after I have beseeched Cronepsis’ parting judgement, will it be yours to do with as you like.”
“Of course. Do what you need to do, my companions and I will search the rest of the cave while you pay your respects.” Thom and Grum concede to Kling-taa’s wishes and together they and Lyssa leave the body of the blue dragon to sack the chamber.

Meanwhile, Moira looked over her party and saw one of them not present at the body of the blue dragon. Moira looked back and was startled when she saw her companion Grunt slumped against the side of the chamber. Moira broke away from the rest of the party and kneeled beside him.
“By Cortox, you’re hurt!”
“You’re perceptive,” Grunt joked back with a strained, scratchy voice.
Moira looked his body over and noticed the burns covering his skin and garb. Most atrocious of these burns is the one covering his face and neck, dealt to him by a wyrmlings’ vicious lightning breath. She slowly lifted his singed hood up over his head to reveal the patchwork of red and white blisters decorating his swollen face. Moira removed her gauntlets and placed her soft, milky hands upon the weeping wounds of his face and neck. She closed her eyes and softly began to pray for Cortox’s healing blessing. Even in the bowels of Dagger Rock, her pleas were answered. Grunt could slowly feel the fiery nerves of his face begin to calm as they regenerated underneath his flesh. The smoky aftertaste of dragon’s breath left his throat and lungs as the tight blistering flesh of his face and neck began to shrink and heal. Moira lifted her hands and, while burns and blisters still remained, Cortox had bestowed onto him a month’s worth of mending in only a minute’s time.

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MAR/2015

Trial and Errors

WORK IN PROGRESS…

Upon returning to Greyhawk with the fallen assassin G’aldem M’lek in custody, the gate masters wave the party inside and heartily greet them. In the city square, they’re greeted with a different reception: a group of sixteen City Guard, four of whom are armed with strange metal rods with polished, clear orbs atop them. A familiar face steps to the front, the Captain of the Guard Garyn Waller:

“Lyssa of Bayerton. You are commanded to come with us. You are wanted for your connection in the murder of Lord Soren of House Cerzan.”

The party quickly surveys each other with shocked expressions.

“What did you do, Lyssa?!” Moira asks with wide and worried eyes. Lyssa looks back at her with concern.

Vetnik urges Captain Waller to reveal what grounds they have to charge his companion with such a heinous act. Captain Waller gives him a copy of the subpoena, signed off by both the Magistrate of Greyhawk, Certrian Gorven, as well as a priest from the church of St. Cuthbert, Garvin Bortheus, who also conducted an official scrying at the behest of both the city and House Cerzan. His divinations revealed details about her presence in his home at the time of his death.

As the guards approach to detain Lyssa, Thom began to protest on her behalf. He also used this time to get close enough to Lyssa, and with his Gourd of Travel in one hand he took hold of her arm with his other. Instead of the pair instantly teleporting away, the party as well as the guards, watched as one of the orbs of the staves flickered with a brilliant cyan light. Thom shook his gourd and noticed that all the seeds inside were accounted for. Before either could react, the guards rushed the party and tore Lyssa down from off of her horse and began to quickly bind her hands with rope. As she struggled and spat at the guards, Thom slipped through them and jumped to her side. Lyssa looked back to her companions (namely Moira) and silently pleaded for aid. Moira’s face was a study in disappointment, but despite her expression, calls down to her friends. “I will tell of your good deeds!”

For his interference, Thom is also apprehended. As a guard attempts to bind his hands, Thom uses a technique taught to him by his parents to twist his arms in such a subtle way that it prevents knots from being tied as tight as they ought to be. The party watches as the guards begin to drag Lyssa and Thom off. Captain Waller leaves Vetnik with a copy of the warrant and follows the rest of his company to the jails. On the way, Lyssa intentionally stumbles and falls to the ground. On the ground, she tries to tap into a spell but before she can release the magical energy, a second stave flares. The guards quickly swarm her, yank her up, and rush her to the jails. In the chaos, Thom uses the opportunity to pilfer a key from a nearby guard’s belt (unsure of what it unlocks).

“Until further notice, I am her counsel,” Thom informs Captain Waller.
“And you want to stay in a cell?”
“Well, until I get better counsel than myself.”

As Thom speaks to the Captain, Lyssa is quickly ushered off into a solitary cell made especially for those with magical abilities.

They free Thom, and he agrees to go counsel her alone.
“Do you have royal blood?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I know your father is a little harder to pin down, but does your mother come from any noble stock?”
“I mean… she. We are Ygranere.”
“I’ll press for trial by combat. Until then, disavow any wrongdoing. If that fails, we’ll improvise.” Thom discreetly palms Lyssa the key he lifted from the guard and takes his leave.

Outside, Grunt slips away from the rest of the party to inspect the jail in search of possible entrances and exits unknown to others. While he searches, Xoston probes the party from Greyhawk for their thoughts.
“Is your companion some kind of murderer?” Xoston asks.
“Honestly, I’m not sure.” Vetnik.
“Hm. Better she didn’t accept the badge of Raven’s Claw if she is. I am sorry to leave you in this terrible state but Boromis and I must be off with G’aldem to fulfill our contract. We can have shares delivered to a place of your choosing.” Xoston gives Vetnik a hearty and (hopefully) comforting handshake. He turns to bid the rest of the party goodbye and sees them in a less than hospitable state. He simply nods at them, giving them silent thanks. “Your names will be mentioned to the nobles of the region. Do we mention your companions name in light of this delicate matter?”
“Withhold it for now,” Grum commands.
“Vetnik?”
“Is she going to get her share?” Vetnik asks, to which Xoston nods his head.
“Then withhold her name.”

Outside, Moira is sad. Vetnik urges them to go talk to Zemilay and Xanti Lyks, “maybe she can scry herself?”
“I’m going to consult a higher power. We will meet in the morning, to attend Lyssa’s arraignment.” Moira kisses him goodbye and with a heavy heart parts ways. Thom waits at the jail overnight to keep tabs on Lyssa’s detainment

At the Manor, Vetnik and Trisoll discuss the issue at hand.
“I hope it’s not what they said it was.”
“Me too.”
“My mom should be able to help us out if my dad can’t.”
“Nice new armor btw.”
“Thanks.”

They come home to find only Lyks, Xanti is out. Burbis greets them buzzing in his own annoying way. Trisoll calms him down.
“Remember when we used to practice listening, Burbis?” Tri
Trisoll occupies Burbis while Vetnik pushes ahead to see Zemilay in his study. Inside, he’s enjoying a drink with George. George stands and formally greets.
“It’s ok. Burbis let us in.”
“Bless you for taking his attention away from us!”
“Not to be rude, George, I am here on serious matter.”
“Well, then I will excuse myself.”
“No need, I appreciate your candor, George.” Ze “What’s going on? It’s rare of you to come to me like this.”
Vetnik explains the abridged version of the charges brought against Lyssa.
“She shouldn’t be too long, Master Talthraudii.” Geo
“Who was murdered?” Ze
“Lord Seron of House Cerzan. It all matches up with a timeline.”
Zemilay and Vetnik wait for Xanti for an hour and sees the look on the men’s faces. “What troubles you, my love?”
Vetnik and Zem informs her. “What can I do to help?”
“See what you can scry.”
Xanti goes off to her private scrying chamber in the nude and gleans quite a level of detail: time frame, place of murder, the murder itself. She struggles getting the time frame but sees the murder in vivid detail. She relays the detail to Zemilay and Vetnik. The pair of men go to the jail in the wee hours of the morning.

Grum waits with Thom and imagines what it’s like to cut loose like Lyssa. Thom, Grum, Grunt do both surveillance and protection.

Lyssa sits in solitary, mulling over her actions.

Zemilay is allowed audience. Vetnik + 3 guards. Lyssa hears the tap of Zem’s staff and Vetnik. Lyssa is quiet, only telling Lyks “I thought I was doing good.”

As the pair of men leave, Lyssa skids her stolen key across the floor. Vetnik picks it up and the pair head to Vortis’. First attempt to knock, no answer. Second attempt is answered by an agitated Vortis. “Oh, Vetnik! Why am I being awakened?” Vetnik hands him a cask of wine.
“Last year’s vintage was better, but thank you.”
“I’ll take that into consideration.”
“What does this key do?”
“How did you get this key? Did Lyssa manage to get this off a city guard? They need better training. It’s a door key, not a cuff key. There are several—why am I telling you this?”
Vortis asks Vetnik to leave the key, no questions asked. Vetnik denies his requests and says he’s going to give it to Moira. Vetnik bows and leaves for the church of Cortox. He leaves to have a drink at the Friendly Strangers. Though the cabaret is done, the bar is still open with Tic Toc working the room. He tells stories of the Heroes of Greyhawk, including Isygrad. He’s sullen, hearing tales of their heroism contrasted with the flaws of his own groups.

In the morning, the party meets at the court to see Lyssa’s arraignment. All of the party attend. Moira seeks out Vetnik for his strength and together they sit towards the front. Grunt sits on his own, unnoticed, while Trisoll sits in the back. The twins sit together. All spot throughout the crowd Cerzan family members, aristocrats. Violetta is in attendance as well, opposite the aisle from Moira. Zemilay stands in the back with Trisoll.

The magistrate enters and announces the case. The Cerzans puff up at the mention of themselves. Eldon testifies and recounts his encounter with Lyssa and Blackrazor. A priest of St. Cuthbert (Garven Bortheis) testifies against Lyssa after scrying.

Thom takes the stand as Lyssa’s counsel. “Is that all you have?” He pleads that her magic is Wild in nature, her intention might not have been to kill him! The crowd is not still swayed completely – though such a compelling and unique argument goes documented nonetheless!

The Cerzans take the stand next. Corbin, the new head of the family is too busy. The 2nd son, Stanak, gives a aristocratic yet charismatic speech about the loss of his father. “When I have wretched the estate from my brother’s control, I will do all in my power to ruin your house, witch!” Brianna takes one look at Lyssa and spits at her feet. Grigor steps up and addresses Stanak and argues his ability to better handle the estate. Catrin takes the stand and she looks at Lyssa and says “My father was everything to me! I hate you, I hate you for what you have done!” Lucien comes to Lyssa, dejected and sighing. “Why did you have to kill my father? I would have worked to change it had you only come to me.” Eldon cannot attend tending to Bayerton. He sends a letter detailing her aggression but also gives her props for retrieving wave. “Though she is possessed by a temper most dangerous, she did come through on her promise.” The youngest daughter, Loraleen, carrying a small toddler, unable to look at Lyssa. “My father… every feast day he would bring me treats from Jelee Rolls. We would spend every Sunday together… I don’t know how I’m going to get through.”
“Why did you kill my granddaddy?!” the toddler whines.

“Objection!” Thom cries out. “This isn’t a court case, this is a sentencing! Nothing has been prove yet!”

“Who is here to speak on the behalf of the accused?” magistrate asks. Moira and Grum stand up at the same time. Trisoll steps forward from the back wall. Grum slides down, seeing the crowd’s reaction to Moira.

“I have known Lyssa of Bayerton for many months. I have seen a woman possessed of an anger and a leaning towards evil. It disturbed me but I reached out to her. I have seen her turn from that path.”

Moira’s charisma shifts the morale only slightly, neutralizing the crowd.

Violetta steps up. “I will speak on Lyssa of Bayerton’s behalf, for I am her mother.” She speaks of her neglected childhood and dour economic conditions. “A person of purity and goodness could never come from that. She has shown true growth. Cortox knows she has a great destiny ahead of you,” she says sobbing. She turns to Lyssa, emotionally shattered and begins to move towards her before being ushered away. “I beg you to forgive me!” she pleads. “I beg you!”

Trisoll moves forward but thinks better of it, then sits down. As he does, Vetnik rises. “I am Vetnik Talthraudii, Grand Knight and Earl of Granrud. I am here to speak on behalf of Lyssa of Bayerton. I was personally very suspicious of her when I first met her. As a nobleman, I request a certain amount of respect from those in my company. I stand for honor and nobility, and the company I keep must carry out these qualities as well, and despite whatever setbacks we may have had in the beginning, she has shown herself worthy to fight alongside. I hope you take what I’ve said into consideration.”

Grum stands and introduces himself as an “adventurer and traveler.” He narrates the times she’s put herself in peril for good.

Zemilay urges Trisoll to speak up and as a result, he gives an incensed speech on her behalf. “You guys, she’s my friend! She’s good, you’ll see.”

Old man Zemilay approaches the stand and delivers a speech on his charge. He pleads that she was a victim of “circumstances beyond her control.” He calls upon Lucien to also reconsider the wages and fairness their family deal out. “I have done much for this city.” The crowd reacts positively, knowing his deeds and the deeds of his company.

The magistrate takes recess to consider the testimony provided. Violetta comes to Lyssa to comfort her. “Everything will be alright, I swear!”

“Lyssa of Bayerton. I find you guilty. However, based upon the words of your companions and the words of Zemilay Lyks. I am willing to take your sentence down to life imprisonment.” The court erupts in a series of boos, cheers, and gasps.

Violetta offers herself up as token slave. Lyssa protests but Violetta willingly gives herself to the Cerzan family. Lyssa watches helplessly as the Cerzans cart her mother away, now a slave, while Moira urges Lyssa to come back to the Manor with them.

“Next time, there’s a spell called “Non-detect”. Try using that.” Thom whispers to Lyssa
“Next time, I won’t be so sloppy.” Lyssa replies through gritted teeth as she watches the Cerzan carts roll away back to Greyhawk Heights.

Lyks transforms into a small bird and trails the Cerzan caravan. He finds out she is being sent to work at the lumber operation in Dafflewood in the Velver Dyver River. Lyks flies back to Greyhawk and broadcasts Violetta’s whereabouts to Lyssa.

To vent steam, Grum suggests the party go find the man who defiled his mother’s street sign. Moira rejects the notion of revenge, which angers Grum. Vetnik convinces her to come along and safeguard from any serious harm, relying more on a prank than true vengeance. Grunt continues to joke about removing the bounty hunter’s hands.

Thom polymorphs and sneaks up to Carrin the Stalker’s home as a snake. He leads the party, scouting ahead. He is in the process of making ransom notes and together, the twins hatch a plan: Thom will slither in while Grum casts ventriloquism, giving the serpent a menacing voice. “I know what you did” he hisses. Carrin freaks out as Thom slithers through his legs then transforms into a Naga. Carrin bolts to the door, but Vetnik presses his weight against the door to keep it barred. “The sign!”
“What… what sign?!”
“The sign in Newhope. Clean it!”
“Ok, ok!”
Thom shapeshifts into a fly and buzzes out a nearby window. Grum chuckles watching the old bounty hunter whimpering. The twins chuckle as the bounty hunter scrambles to get cleaning supplies. Humiliated, the party saunter back to Pimpleton Manor.

Back at the manor, Lyssa meets Zemilay to discuss the whereabouts of Violetta. George escorts her to the study. Lyssa enters to find maps laying out on the table. He goes right into it and gives her coordinates how far away her mother will be after tonight. Zemilay tells Lyssa she’s set to leave in the morning. In a huff, Lyssa tries to leave to go get her mother, but Zemilay pleads with her to stop and think rationally. She turns to him with burning red eyes and Zemilay quickly uses Mind Read on her and finds she only vengeance on the brain. In an effort to cap it, Zemilay casts Emotion over her. She’s overcome by his spell and she calms down, feeling strangle optimistic all of a sudden.

Moira is impressed with the way Grum cooled himself.
“Well, a lot of it is just pomp. I’d never do it.” Grum reveals.
“Well, you scared the mess out of him and that was good enough.” Vetnik congratulates.

Moira asks Zemilay about how they plan to save Violetta from slavery. Thom expresses concern that the Cerzans will know it was they that freed her. Moira suggests they use Lucien as an ally. Thom and Grum are adamant about freeing Violetta then breaking the family apart. Trisoll asks Grum to make arrangements for smuggling Violetta goods. He in turn contacts Marit to help with the smuggling, and she delegates it to her scouts.

Thom hears a rumor about Dagger Rock, a small mountain in the Bright Lands which serves as a lair for a Blue Dragon. Two weeks travel. He also gets wind of a town overrun by an orc army.

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MAR/2015

Hunters

WORK IN PROGRESS…

Detouring from the main road back to Greyhawk, the party takes the pair of surviving women back to their home villiage, a small hamlet called Pek. They find out the women are named Aulis Grainkeeper (skinny, missing leg) and Geria Plowshare (stout) but are not forthcoming about much else. Upon arriving in Pek, they see a village made up of impoverished farm folk living among the 10 or so huts. The villagers greet the party and are in awe of the mounted warriors. They quietly mourn the loss of a third woman and even more subtly rejoice over the return of the other girls. The village elder,Ligren Foxtrapper, thanks the party for bringing the girls back but as they are a poor people, they cannot offer more than the servitude of the former captives — as is the way of their people.

“We didn’t do this to gain slaves!” Lyssa disputes.

Foxtrapper tries to express to the party that giving them the women is their way of paying back whatever debt, despite the consequences. Aulis is obedient to the will of the elder, while Geria voices that she doesn’t want to leave. In turn, the villagers immediately begin to shun Geria. Fearing no other option, she agrees to go with the party. Moira and Thom hatch a plan to turn the Pekian’s customs and Moira urges the village to keep the girls as slaves, serving in their name to better Pek. The elder, however, doesn’t fall for their ruse and asks them to take the women back with them. While Lyssa isn’t shy about telling the elder of Pek off about his backwards, piggish token of gratitude, Thom and Moira agree to sponsor the women when they return to Greyhawk. Thom even assures to Lyssa that their positions in Greyhawk will be duly compensated, though it does little to cool Lyssa’s heated disposition. Before leaving, Vetnik wrangles a horse for the women to share and together, they leave Pek for the road back to Greyhawk.

Near the city limits, Moira reveals her doubts about the church to Vetnik, but that she remains loyal to Cortox. She also reveals a fear of excommunication and being stripped of her paladinship. On the way back, they see another group of 30 rats that scurry off the road when they pass on horseback. At the city gates, the party checks in and prepares to escort Thom to see Bardmaster Lactile Furlo. Thom gets word that bardschool is being held at the Salty Sea Dog Inn. The party follows Thom, all except for Lyssa, who dips off to go to her apartment (still visibly withdrawn and frustrated by the encounter in Pek.)

At the Salty Sea Dog, the clientele is as grizzled as the inn itself: dark, dingy, belligerent dock workers and barflies mingle with “catfish” (unattractive, dock whores). One brazen patron is even brave/foolish enough to pick a fight with Grunt, who in turn responds with a head butt, knocking the unsuspecting patron out in a single blow. Thom heads to the backroom to see a class of 10. The soloist’s song is described as “perfectly adequate” by Bardmaster Furlo.

Lactile greets the trio of bards (Thom, Chan, and Pelar) and is told that Thom is the victor of his quest. Inspecting the Gourd of Travel, Lactile congratulates Thom openly, calling him “My. Master. Student”. While most of the other students react with disdain and disappointment, a few are brave enough to openly congratulate Thom. Over a glass of wine in the house, Thom recounts the details of their expedition to Lactile, who uses whatever opportunity he can during the discussion to dismiss the other students’ talents.

Back at her apartment, Lyssa consults the Eye of Modius in a heated state. The Eye opens up to reveal details about the Cerzan patriarch, Lord Soren. She gets exceeding details of his current health and opulently decorated manor in Greyhawk Heights. In a fit of impulse, she teleports instantly into his bedroom (a first manifestation of this particular spell power!) There, she quietly looks over his finery, waiting and brewing.

Back at the Salty Sea Dog, Lactile continues to praise Thom, berating his students to be just as good. Having all the wine and praise he can take, Thom leads the others out of the Salty Sea Dog Inn. As they pass Elsa’s House of Comfort, Vetnik hears a familiar voice call out to him: “Well, well, barbarian! What’s this? No wonder I haven’t seen you.” It is the scantily armored warrioress, Aris, and she approaches the party, laying into Vetnik and his choice of virtuous companion.
“I am warriorborn, woman!” Moira says, stepping to the bawdy warrior.
“You’re both going to calm yourselves, you’re both embarrassing me,” Vetnik barks at the feuding women (much to the amusement of the others in the party.) Moira concedes and stands down, and though Aris is still heated, she too backs off. After Aris stomps away, the party agrees to meet later at Pimpleton Manor. Moira takes the Pek women to the Church of Cortox to see what help she can get them, despite having avoided her duties for quite some time. Grunt heads back to his apartment while Trisoll and the Black brothers follow Vetnik back to the Manor.

Later in the evening, Soren Cerzan returns to his bedroom to find Lyssa lightly pilfering through the surface objects adorning his dresser. Before he can call down for help, Lyssa charms him and commands him to sit and listen to her. She reveals she is one of many families from Bayerton who were workers on his lands and confronts him about the lavish lifestyle he and his family lead while the villagers of Bayerton toil for little pay and live in squalor.
“They have earned their right to exist,” the remorseless lord tells Lyssa. Driven by blinding rage, Lyssa blankets the room in a powerful cloudkill spell, instantly killing the lord. In a panic, she teleports back to her home to sleeplessly mull over her reckless actions.

On the way to his home, a gnome stops Grunt and begs him for coin. Grunt says “no”, to which the gnome offers a bag of beans. Grunt is unwavering and yells at the gnome to get lost! The gnome flees to bother another villager, who falls for his con.

At the Manor, Vetnik receives a notice that his new suit of armor will be ready at dawn. Thom gets a letter from Cirilli Finla, the young girl who helped in freeing Orlane from the stranglehold of the Naga, Explictica Defilus. She writes to say hello and thank him again for freeing her. She also tells Thom the peculiar way she’s been revered in her hometown. Orlanians have taken to asking her to touch them to bless and heal them, even going so far as to ask for locks of her hair (which Cirlli has seemingly obliged, but jokes that “I’m beginning to look like a boy”.) Later in the evening, Trisoll struggles to wake himself from an intensely horrific nightmare! Vetnik rushes in hearing his friend’s panicked cries and wakes him. Vetnik gets Trisoll water while he collects himself. He later explains to Vetnik the vision he saw: a child and a wizard, followed by the death of the wizard and a murderous creature chasing after the child. Then he realizes there were other children, and wonders if he should consult his mother.

In the morning, Vetnik returns to Pimpleton Manor in a finely crafted suit of grey iron armor. Grum chortles and fawns over him mockingly. “Oh, lookit you!” Moira genuinely compliments him and asks why he acquired it. “Why grey?”
“I’ll tell you later,” he says with a wink .“It’s a tradition actually. Now that I am no longer a knight bachelor, I no longer need to wear black. As a knight, I am now able to don the grey armor of my people. I hope some day to be able to don the white armor though.”
Moira smiles, though she has a feeling that the white armor would mean Vetnik returning to icy Granrud.

During breakfast, Moira tells the party that the church has charged her to find the secret Cortoxian priest from the Games, but tells them she refused the task. She also tells the Black brothers that someone has defaced their mother’s street sign with the word TRAITOR. “They’ll wipe it clean with their bloody stumps!” Grum swears. Later, a visitor arrives for them: Xoston Wilcryn and his dwarven associate from Blackmoor, Boromis Runforge. The gnome reveals that his associate is looking for an assassin from Horndurn named G’aldem M’lek, who slew their friend and fellow Raven’s Claw, Galather Eldrin. The Black brothers and Grunt head to the Thieves’ Guild to find info on the assassin while Vetnik and Moira agree to put their ears to the ground at local Inns, beginning with the Wretched Eye. Trisoll forgoes doing recon and chooses to spend some time with his mother for reasons known only to him and Vetnik.

Still holed up in her apartment, Lyssa consults her Eye and sees a vision of the City Guard coming at night to confront her at her home. Unsure of what to do, she continues researching through the different texts in her home in hopes of finding magic to safeguard herself.

Moira and Vetnik stand out like sore thumbs at the Inn of the Wretched Eye. Moira asks of the patrons “Which one of you scums are willing to give up some information for some money?” The patrons look the naïve paladin up and down, but before they can “escort” her out, Vetnik cools the scene by buying a table of men some drinks. Moira quickly strong-arms them into revealing their knowledge of the Horndurnian asssassin. They reveal they’ve only briefly seen M’lek and have heard rumors of him heading to the port town of Dyvers. The pair of knights pay the men with coin and drink, which raises a few of the patrons’ eyebrows. In return, the men quietly ask the knights to escort them to the front door.
“We’ll walk you home if you like?” Moira says without a hint of sarcasm.
“Hahaha… no!” One of the men responds. The knights do as asked and watch as the small group of men break off from each other and flee.

As Lyssa quietly researches, a note slips under her door. It is notice from Ebeviria, letting her know that Glarius has left with the Eye of Null and is said to be traveling to the Dry Steppes beyond the Crystalmist Mountains. She references the various maps in her apartment and finds out just how far he’s planning on going.

Grum gets word of who vandalized his mother’s street post. It appears to be a former business owner, a bounty hunter named Carrin Stalker, who once operated out of what was once known as Blood Alley, but was bounced out due to his mother’s gentrification of the area. The others gather their information together and get ready to head to Dyvers. The company votes to head there on horseback for four days travel, with Xoston and Boromis accompanying them. Trisoll goes to pick up Lyssa and finds her more eager to travel than usual, but is commanded by her not to pry.

The ride is uneventful for the first half of travel, but on the 3rd day they come across a procession of 11 shambling figures in red robes, silent and shoeless with cracked and bloodied feet. Trisoll refuses to speak with them this time as they been rather intimidating the last time he attempted to strike up conversation with them. The party continues onwards, and the next day they arrive at Dyvers, which could best be described as a city-sized Salty Sea Dog Inn. Once finished with registration, Boromis departs and searches for info alone, agreeing to meet at the Dragon’s Eye Tavern in four hours’ time. They stake another tavern out to listen in on villagers. Thom casts comprehend languages upon himself to listen in on foreigners. The rest of the party go to a local inn called Jorton’s Mist to set up. Moira and Vetnik hang back while the others bar hop. Alone, Moira expresses deeper concern for the former priests of Celestian who have such violent reactions towards the new reign of Cortox. She also opens up about her brother for the first time to Vetnik and her growing desire to find him. Vetnik suggests that an alternative way of finding him using an object of his. Moira seems eager to pursue that idea, but is timid to ask Lyssa to help (“I fear she’s cross with me.”) Vetnik says he understands that Lyssa thinks he’s taking Moira away from her, but Moira wishes that she would try to understand their new relationship and be open for discussion about it.

At the Green Door Tavern, the party stakes out for info. Humans, half orcs, and dwarves drink together. Thom and Grum hear whispers but Grunt can’t make them out. Thom hears nothing of value but Grum hears word of a foreigner in strange robes getting supplies. With the info, they head to another bar called The Wyvern, which is a little more refined than the last bar. Only Thom can discern more info. He hears that the character has been hanging out in Hook Rows.

The party meets back at Dragon’s Eye as planned and Boromis tells the party that the assassin is said to be lurking in a specific block in the Hook Rows area. Xoston suggests to make the knights of the party invisible. Vetnik agrees to hold Moira’s hand while Trisoll figures out how to silence their metal footsteps. Xoston hangs back with Trisoll and Lyssa while Thom goes invisible as well. Grum and Grunt scout ahead, hiding in shadows, while Boromis uses a grappling hook (a Blackmoorian invention) to scale the rooftops.

On the 4th hour of patrol, the party hears a small explosion on the rooftops. Boromis yells down that he’s fired a shot at him. Thom uses his Ring of Flying to take to the air, calling down the assassin’s coordinates, and the party chases after him. Lyssa dimension doors and cuts G’aldem off. Thom attempts to cast a charm on him but it fails. As G’aldem begins to scale the wall of a nearby building up to the roof, Lyssa attempts to suspend him with a levitate spell but he proves too quick and evades it. Thom watches and continues to call out coordinates as G’aldem bolts from rooftop to rooftop with catlike agility. Grum jumps up to climb walls but can’t get his footing. Grunt tries to scale the walls too but he slides down. The thieves take notice of the sappy, cheap wooden siding on the building and together they scurry to find a better way up. Trisoll reaches out to the local birds and contacts a sparrow to pursue the assassin. Now out of the veil of invisibility and hovering in the air, Thom draws his bow to fire a pair of arrows. The first of the arrows miss by a mile, but the second pierces the escaping assassin through his right leg, exploding through his knee and felling him to the ground of the roof. Lyssa dimension doors up to his body and disarms G’aldem. He says nothing as she finds and takes a curved blade and 3 smoke pellets, which she gives to Thom — who in turn gives them to Grum.
“Should’ve just gave in to my charm,” Thom jokes.
Lyssa attempts to place him under a suggestion spell but he is resistant to it. Xoston summons a horde of Shadow Monsters to menace him into talking but even those do little to faze him. Boromis holds the assassin’s own blade at his throat and threatens to open his neck up with it if he doesn’t speak. Moira steps in toe calm the frustrated dwarf while Vetnik tears G’aldem’s cowl off and reveals a mouth sewn shut. Vetnik cuts G’aldem’s mouth open with his longsword. As Moira lays hands on the assassin to heal him, Vetnik opens his mouth to reveal neither teeth nor tongue. Vetnik blows a bag of dust and puts G’aldem to sleep.

The party restrains the sleeping assassin and Vetnik puts him on the back of his horse to take with them back to Greyhawk. The first couple days back are uneventful. Vetnik keeps the silent assassin comatose with daily doses of dust on their journey back home. On the third day back to Greyhawk, a huge shadow covers the ground. They look up and see an enormous bird fly over: the legendary giant Roc. Though in awe, they keep the ride moving as to not get the bird’s attention. Thom sketches it in his journal of beastly encounters. The 4th day, the party passes a trade caravan as they pass through the city gates.

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FEB/2015