Chasing The DM

Cradle Plain -- Session 66 -- Sunday 13th March 2011

2011-11-23T04:45:00.001-08:00

In which the company pits itself against the twisted experiments of the Patriarch and his minions.

Roster (Party Level 12th)
Berend - Dwarven Fighter (Dreadnought)
Elumai - Eladrin Wizard (Shiere Knight)
Seraiya (Companion) - Eladrin Cleric
Finial - Half-elf Paladin (Justicar)
Jonas - Human Rogue/Ranger (Master Spy)
Delgado - Human Slayer

(Please note that ongoing technical difficulties claimed the first part of this recording.)

November 10th, 370 Pale King's Reckoning (continued)

Let us agree that the aforementioned melee was a brutal and unhygienic affair, and that many fluids were spilled upon the battlefield. However, our protagonists prevailed.

They take a few minutes to examine Delgado's finds. Unwrapping the parcel they find a black and shriveled heart which continues to bleed even having long ago been cut out of its owner (the stained wrapping is in itself magical, soaking the blood forever into itself and sweating a clear liquid which quickly evaporates in the air). The skeleton itself seems to have been picked utterly clean by the acidic cockroach swarm, although the backpack has been left alone by the other creatures inhabiting the fort for reasons which we won't speculate on here.

Elumai performs an Object Reading on the bizarre organ. Who did the heart belong to? This results in a terrible vision, the image of a naked man whose grey, leathery skin and sunken eyes already paint him as an apparition of death, lying on a stone slab surrounded by a shadowy audience. A silver stiletto plunges into his chest and parts his ribs, then a long, multi-jointed hand plunges into a torso full of black and rotting organs and pulls out the heart. The man heaves a final breath, and sags lifeless on the stone.

Elumai, after recovering, considers the imagery carefully. The multi-jointed fingers are significant to her only insofar as those who are able to polymorph but unpracticed or imperfectly taught in the art often give themselves away in the area of their hands, but she's unsure whether that is the case here. The victim of the sacrifice himself had the appearance of a corpse... except for the breathing and the screaming of course.

Has it been used in any arcane practices since its removal? This results in the vision of an alchemical laboratory with a half-formed construct on a surgical table, with the heart and two others like it being carefully implanted in the monster's chest.

How did the heart become wrapped in this paper? The resulting image is from the point of view of something high above the ground, holding the oozing heart in two spindly, insectile fore-legs. "Yessss, oh yesss, this will do excssssellently! Too good! Too good even for the massster!" The owner of the voice places the heart carefully down and carefully wraps it in the magical paper.

The company ponders the mystery for a few minutes, reaching no conclusions except that they might be getting into much more than they bargained for, and decides to burn the organ there and then. It spits and fizzles in the flames and quickly burns to ashes, which they then bury.

The pit in the center of the ruin is actually a collapsed cellar, from which an entrance leads to a tunnel descending into the depths of the hillside. The dark emits the most disgusting smell of rot and putrescence, but this doesn't stop the company wiping the gore from their armour and pushing on. They track forward through the cloying atmosphere down a rough-hewn corridor dug directly from the earth, avoiding and disabling a couple of rudimentary alarms in the process. It's not the eladrin complex suggested by the fort, that much is for certain.

They peel off down a thin corridor leading west which emerges into a wide cave. In the center of this cave is a pit in which a soupy red liquid carries fleshy detritus around in a tidal orbit. A young man dressed in cloth rags and a leather helmet from which a sputtering candle provides his only illumination stirs the pit with a long wooden pool, a look of extreme disgust on his face.

Delgado eschews all stealth and strolls into the cavern, sword at the ready. The young man whirls around drops the pole clattering to the ground. He backs away, eyes wide, to the rear wall. "Who are you? Did you escape from the Tailor?" his hisses, casting terrified looks over their shoulders back up the corridor. "This isn't the right way! Go back and get up through the pit!" Under questioning he reveals his name - Ross - and that he's a prisoner of this "Tailor", who or whatever that may be.

"Not any more you're not sunshine, you're free," assures Berend, beckoning him over.

"No way, there's no way to escape him. He'll cut me up... use me in his work! I've survived this long by playing by the rules, I'm not going anywhere!" Then he looks at the pool and sags, a look of utmost despair on his face. "Oh no, it's too late..."

At that moment the entire pool appears to rear up from the pit, a carpet-like layer of blood, flesh, and filth which looms over the ledge and slams down over a stunned Delgado and Finial. As the rotting precipitate sloughs away, the terrifying form of a gibbering mouther is revealed, and suddenly everyone is beset by a buzzing, disorienting discord which sends their senses reeling. Ross screams and clamps his hands to his ears.

Elumai is first to react, unleashing a lightning bolt which engulfs the creature and sends fragments of it like sizzling fat spitting into the air. It retreats from her, and directly onto Delgado's blade, which all-but cuts the beast in two. Already mortally wounded, it limps back towards the pool as it tries to escape.

At this display, Ross's demeanour changes. The fear drops from his face, his body bulges free of its coverings, and within seconds he has become a grotesque display of undeath, flesh and limbs from multiple creatures sewn together with hag-like features on its face. "You will all be fine morsels for the Tailor!" she cackles, striding through the blood-pool and dipping her fangs towards Finial. He smashes her aside with his flail, but as blood and unguent drips from her body, she does little more than laugh and throw herself at him again.

The mouther channels the raw power of the Far Realm to everyone in the room, and only Elumai escapes the dizzying blast. The invasive noise buzzing in everyone's head rises a notch, tearing at the very plates of their skulls, and from Berend and Finial's skin, tiny, fanged mouths erupt and start chewing on their own flesh. As if in response to this call, three ghouls crawl from the pool, a random assemblage of bone and body parts as if the waste within has coalesced into a distorted semblance of life. They leap upon Finial, and cold, paralytic poison courses through his veins, and he feels his muscles tighten and cramp.

Berend stumbles over ground which is warping and erupting in response to the mouther's cacophany, and slams his axe into the beast. It cleaves straight through its spongy flesh and into the ground beneath; the noise in his head changes from a dizzying buzz to an almost imperceptibly high screech of pain, and the creature is killed, oozing around his blade and over the edge of the pool.

Finial, barely able to move, erupts with ice-rimed radiance and, channeling the powers of his flail, obliterates the ghouls where they stand, their fragmented skeletons standing out in relief against the golden light as it strips the flesh from their bones; the hag screams in pain and shields her lidless eyes as the freezing light sears great clumps of necrotised flesh from her body, and the mouther is all-but disintegrated as the shockwave passes over it. Rarely do the fates align so powerfully, and everyone in the cave, friend and foe alike, stands blinking in the wake of the paladin's attack.

The hag, whimpering in the aftermath, attempts to draw healing energies from the spirits of her enemies... but she is beset by attacks from both Berend and Delgado and doesn't even notice Finial's flail as it follows-up and cleaves her head from her shoulders.

Barely seconds after it has begun, the fight is over. Only the gentle sloshing of the pool of blood can be heard. The company takes up a defensive posture and rifles through the remains of the death hag (now spread across the whole cave), finding only a rusting bronze key. After a brief discussion, they decide on an extended rest and retreat from the catacomb back up into the ruined fort, making camp just as clouds begin to wash out the setting sun and a frigid chill settles over the hilltop. They arrange themselves on a raised ledge, set watch, and settle in for the night.

It's not long before they're attacked.

The slumbering party is awoken by the noise of several large somethings pushing their way up the tunnel from below. They quickly gather themselves and prepare for the assault, hiding themselves wherever they can. Berend drops to the lower level and flattens himself against a broken wall, gripping his axe tightly just as a huge, spider-like monstrosity with the bloated torso of a human zombie heaves itself up from below, collapsing the pit and the earth all around it down into the catacomb with a roar of noise. "Who invaded the massster's lair?!" its rasping voice shouts into the air as it gets its eight huge multi-jointed legs under it... the very same voice from Elumai's vision. "More piecessss for the Patriarch! The grand plan now comesss together!

Elumai, noticing that the creature's hands end in long, barbed needles and that it's laying a filament of silk on the ground as it moves, wastes no time unleashing a Phantasmal Assailant and although the creature's mind is strong, it blinks as if blinded by the moonlight and gibbers something about its stitches coming undone. Finial attempts to take advantage of the distraction but his flail simply rebounds from one of its chitinous legs, and even Delgado's normally trustworthy skill falls short of penetrating its defenses.

As the creature turns to face its attackers, the silky filaments emitted from its body begin to swirl and twist around it, creating a cloud of sticky webbing which immediately entangles Delgado's blade. It dips its needle-like fingers towards Berend and as he tries to dodge aside he feels a flash of pain and finds that his limbs have literally been sewn together, leaving him struggling for freedom as the Tailor bears down, a hungry grin on its twisted face. Behind it, a swarm of slimy shapes that are little more than limbs hastily sewn together crawls, pulls, and drags itself out of what's left of the pit, and begins clambering around the ruin, searching for victims. Finial is literally manhandled off the ledge, landing heavily on the collapsed floor and sliding into the pit with the Tailor standing over him.

Things are bad... and then get worse as two enormous flesh golems suddenly erupt out of the hillside near the fort. One of them charges forward, grabbing Berend as it goes and slamming him through the nearest wall, which crumbles and collapses in its wake, while its cohort pushes another wall over and stumbles dumbly into the outhouse where the skeletal body was to be found earlier. A wave of fire sweeps from Elumai's hand, over the golems and the attacking limbs, blistering and blackening the preserved flesh of the swarm and causing several of them to detonate in a shower of caustic gore and shrapnel-like bone. With a smile she utters another command word and the flames coalesce into a roaring, shimmering wall of fire which almost completely consumes her enemies. Delgado shields his face from the flames and plants a devastating blow on the Tailor, causing it to screech in pain as the wound is immediately cauterised by Elumai's fire.

Its flailing needles strike out at Berend, brought into range by the golem's charge, and the dwarf becomes entangled in a silk-like cocoon. He strikes out with his axe, but his blade becomes caught in the tangled webbing and does little except throw him off-balance for the golem's punch... which almost smashes him senseless...

Cradle Plain -- Session 65 -- Sunday 27th February 2011

2011-11-07T05:31:00.000-08:00

In which the company becomes embroiled in a murderous plot and finds that even the assassins have had the wool pulled over their eyes.

Roster (Party Level 12th)
Berend - Dwarven Fighter (Dreadnought)
Elumai - Eladrin Wizard (Shiere Knight)
Seraiya (Companion) - Eladrin Cleric
Finial - Half-elf Paladin (Justicar)
Jonas - Human Rogue/Ranger (Master Spy)
Delgado - Human Slayer

November 9th, 370 Pale King's Reckoning

The companions leave the hag's tomb behind them, and spend a day trekking uneventfully through the forest.

November 10th, 370 Pale King's Reckoning

Pushing on, the company is attacked by a trio of assassins intent on killing them in their sleep before they make any further progress. Under interrogation, they reveal they were hired by a red-haired woman known only as "Lady Marisa", and that it was their job to ensure that no-one interfered with the kidnapping of a merchant of noble blood called Fetsuad il-Sook. They carry the mark of the Assassin's Guild of Emerandes. One of them is put quickly to death, the other suffers a lingering fate in the flames of Finial's wrath.

Just a couple of hours further down the road, they come upon a circle of caravans reeling from some kind of attack. The dead and injured litter the ground, tended to by the survivors. A half-elf called Tantalroy greets the adventurers and explains that they are the escort for a rich merchant of the Coin (named, unsurprisingly enough, il-Sook), and that they were on their way to a business meeting in Lukktor when they were attacked by overwhelming forces. Upwards of ten have been slain, and il-Sook was kidnapped in the confusion.

Tantalroy is a good liar, but Finial knows that something is amiss. After asking around the camp under pretense of helping the wounded, the party uncovers evidence that the slain guards were drugged prior to the attack, and that the officers of the merchant house charged with protecting il-Sook on his way to Lukktor all foster a simmering hatred of their employer, born of mistreatment of either themselves or their loved ones. It seems the affable generosity of his public persona is distinctly at odds with the violent bully he turns into behind closed doors.

Confronted with the party's suspicions and ill-equipped to make an escape, Tantalroy is forced to admit under questioning that the kidnapping was an inside job, revenge for il-Sook's arrogant and insufferable predations against he and his friends. He explains that the merchant has been taken to an abandoned eladrin fort to the west, where he will be put to death after hearing an account of his crimes. (He also confides a suspicion that il-Sook isn't even human, but can offer no evidence to support the fact.)

He has no choice but to throw himself on Finial's mercy. He offers to show them the meeting place, and even to accept punishment for his part in the deed, but he insists that he will only do so if his friend, Cara Toyden, whose hatred of il-Sook is born of the scars he allegedly inflicted on her after she turned down his advances, is allowed to go free. The company turns to Finial for judgement: he considers the bargain, and agrees.

Tantalroy leads them into the tree-line. The forest is dense and unforgiving, alive with shadows and the unshakable sense of being watched. At one point, he signals for them to hide and three trolls blunder through the bushes, seemingly oblivious despite the presence of two heavily armoured adventurers holding their collective breath in the undergrowth. The creatures pause, sniffing the air. "I'm tellin' ya I heard summin! And it weren't that other lot, either!" His mate, however, is unimpressed, and the trolls eventually move on.

As do the adventurers, in fact, and a short while later the trees thin slightly before giving way to a clearing. Tantalroy pauses and whispers, "I didn't know anything about this..." but the tracks they're following pretty obviously step out onto the tall sunlit grass. There's a stone cottage with a mud roof near the center of the clearing, and a fast-running brook crosses the grass nearby. The keener-eyed observers in the group also spot a large, hulking shadow lurking in the treeline to the north.

Delgado and Elumai sneak towards the shadow while Berend, Finial, Seraiya and Tantalroy push out from the bushes and start following the trail left by their quarry. They quickly spot a person lying slumped near the point where the trail re-enters the treeline, but the grasses are too high to reveal much more. They advance, and the door to the cottage swings open.

A tall, attractive young woman wearing weathered gear emerges carrying an axe. She takes two steps before noticing the warriors and lobbing the blade into a nearby woodpile, where it thunks inches-deep into a broad chunk of oak. "Good day to you all!" she smiles as the party greets her. "Are you passing through? Can I offer you some lunch?"

"No thanks," says Berend, and then, ever keen on getting to the point, asks: "What's that great hulking shape in the forest over there?"

The woman turns and shields her eyes against the sun. "I can't see anything," she shrugs. To those sneaking through the forest however it's clearly an ogre, albeit an ogre with leaves and branches stuffed into its pants in a vain attempt to camouflage its bulk. For now, it's intent on the clearing, and doesn't notice the adventurers sneaking up on it.

The body at the edge of the clearing turns out to be a decapitated human female, her head having been removed with exquisite precision by some unknown means. Tantalroy pushes forward, shouting: "It's Tyster! She's a friend of mine... how the hell..?" He begins rummaging through the her pockets, removing a bag of coin as he does so, while the others look on, gauging the time of death at no more than an hour ago. "Tidy job, though," Berend says as he walks back towards the silhouette of the ogre. Finial quirks an eye at the woodsman's axe, but doubts it could have done the deed.

Delgado takes matters into his own hands at this point, and launches himself at the ogre. Unfortunately his longsword glances off the creature's leather armour... but Elumai's Lightning Bolt has more impact. The ogre bellows "WHASGOINON?!" and turns to defend himself, a look of child-like shock on its lumpy face. Delgado provides an answer by smashing his longsword into its nose, drawing a spray of blood and a strangled cry of pain... which then provides enough of a distraction so that Berend, who roars into view with his axe raised and a familiar berserker rage on his face, can smash headlong into the hapless creature from the rear.

The woodsman turns at the sound of the melee... and sighs. "Oh dear," she says, "I always thought he'd pay for loving me one day... still, the Patriarch will pay me handsomely to make dolls of you..." Her face suddenly explodes in a shower of shiny black beetles and her left arm collapses into a boiling swarm... but Finial shoves her away before the swarm can envelop him. She stumbles back and smiles at him like a spurned lover. Tantalroy seethes with rage as he brings his sword to bear on her: "Tyster was my friend!" he roars, but his attack is wild and uncontrolled, cutting a swathe of beetles from her arm but having little other effect.

"More bodies for the Patriarch!" shouts the ogre as he smashes his flail down on Delgado. Berend is also forced to tumble aside as the massive weapon gouges the earth at his feet, but then the tip of Delgado's blade erupts from the ogre's chest and it collapses to the grass. He looks up with terror in his eyes and whispers with his dying breath: "Don't... let the elf stitch me up... please..."

Meanwhile the beetle swarm has found the chinks in Finial's armour, and surge inside, biting his flesh. The beetle-woman uses the distraction to plant a kiss on the paladin's cheek, and he swoons, unsteady on his feet, as the swarm pours over him... but then a ray from Elumai's wand envelops her in flame, causing clumps of beetle-flesh to crisp and pop in fountains of yellow goo. Berend, recovering from the barely missed attack at the treeline, barrels across the clearing and sends beetles exploding in all directions as he smashes into the swarm to help his friend. Under threat from several quarters, the woman rips the last veneer of flesh from her face and roars at the companions, who stumble away, clutching their eyes. She takes the opportunity to collapse into a living swarm, surging over the grass and into the cottage by whatever means of ingress she can find.

Elumai races after her and in an uncharacteristically confident display of athleticism, clambers up the nearest drainpipe and takes position on the roof. Finial peers through a window at what was probably once a quaint cottage but is now a ruined shadow of past comforts, covered in mildew and now with hundreds of beetles swarming over the decaying floor. He pushes himself resolutely through the window and engages the swarm as it envelops him .

Berend steps up to the wall, hefts his axe, and swings the blade at the stone wall. The mortar is ancient and gives way easily as a section of wall crumbles inward ("Don't worry lads, it's only me!") Elumai, up above, is determined to make the most of her vantage and with barely a thought for the consequences, unleashes a Thunderwave upon the roof. The whole structure trembles but doesn't give way.

The beetle swarm retreats from Finial and starts to funnel underneath the rug as if trying to escape. He throws the carpet back to reveal a rotten trapdoor, half fallen through, and in doing so releases a ferociously putrescent smell into the room. Delgado, newly arrived, pushes past him and drops through, landing on his feet in a dark cellar dug out of the earth beneath the cottage.

Aside from a few boxes covered with leather tarps, the most obvious feature is the corpse of a man, horribly blackened and bloated, swinging from the joists above with a noose about his neck. He's dressed in clothes similar to the form taken by the beetle-woman when they first arrived. Finial cuts the body down, and let's just say it would be best not to dwell on what happens when it hits the floor. Of the beetle-woman there is no sign, but the company does discover that the back wall of the cellar is perforated with tiny beetle-sized holes. A brief discussion doesn't yield any suggestions as to how she might be flushed out, and the party resigns itself to the fact of her escape.

In a small box hidden in one corner of the cellar, Berend finds twenty-five locks of hair of varying colours, individually bound by ribbons, as well as several hundred gold and three valuable sapphires. Back out in the open air the company is surprised to find that Tantalroy has declined the opportunity to escape and is lingering morosely near the corpse of his friend. They decide that a Speak With Dead might yield some valuable information, and Elumai spends a few minutes whispering over the headless body before she feels the departed spirit of Tyster Dent connect with her.

What killed you? I have no idea. One minute I was running through the trees, the next I was floating around in this place. Are your friends with you? I was at the front of the pack, so I have no idea what might have happened to them. They're not here.

Tyster departs as the power of the ritual fades. After a careful look around the area they find a length of admantine wire which was strung across the trees at head height. They recover six-feet of the stuff, carefully coiling it up and putting it away. Elumai also decides that the basement will make a fitting grave for both the dead woodsman and Tantalroy's friend, and literally brings the house down on both their remains. Only then do they move on.

A short trek later they emerge from the edge of the forest looking across a sick-looking field of yellowing grass towards a grassy hillock. Perched upon it are the ruined lower two levels of what was once, Finial reckons, a pretty solid eladrin fort, but which has long since crumbled. Elumai thinks the structure is reminiscent of towers used in her homeland to mark and defend complexes built underground. Something about the topography of the hill also seems slightly off... but no-one in the party can put their finger on it.

One thing that immediately gets their attention is the remains of a male body, resting in a smear of blood and viscera half-way down the rough path which leads up to the remains of the gate. Seraiya performs a quick examination, finding that the human in question was cut in two at the waist... and that a human arm has been sewn with gruesome precision onto his stomach at the belly-button. A hard, amber residue coats the stitches... and in a flash of inspiration Elumai recognises the suturing pattern as a well-known technique in the creation of constructs and golems of flesh. (No-one thinks to ask her how she knows these things.)

Everyone looks askance at Tantalroy, but he just shrugs. "Don't know him. Look, I didn't know anything about this place, but the fellow who helped us set all this up said it would be a good spot for a rendezvous." When pushed, he reveals the name of his fellow conspirator: Micah, il-Sook's manservant.

The company pushes on towards the fort, but despite taking several precautions they fall foul to a carefully-prepared ambush as they pass beneath the ruined gate. The creatures that attack are a nightmare of rotting flesh and thick, scabrous skin, clearly constructs of some kind and attacking with a keen, decisive intellect. Finial dodges a small barrel which is flung by one of the creatures and rolls away from him down the hillside, but Berend isn't so lucky. The barrel smashes open at his feet and a cloud of tiny, biting beetles swarms over him... as well as over Finial, who finds himself caught in the blast.

The paladin, muscles bulging with effort, hauls himself up to the cracked ledge from which they're attacking and smashes into the first crusty, which unfortunately dodges the blow. It steps forward and punches the paladin with a fist of encrusted scab tissue, splattering him with god-knows-what and sending him reeling.

Delgado shifts around the outside of the ruin and, intent on taking the ambush back to his foes, clambers up a defensive wall. Elumai jaunts through the Feywild and appears atop the highest wall, from which vantage she unleashes a storm of lightning upon the hapless enemies beneath her. It leaps between them, causing suppurating fractures to crack open across their encrusted skin.

Berend grits his teeth against the pain of the swarm consuming his flesh and launches his Thunder Hammer at one of the creatures, but his aim is still thrown off. Finial, meanwhile, finds a target with his flail and, with a burst of radiant light which infuses his friends with strength, the crusty almost implodes under the blow, spraying puss and fluids everywhere and limping feebly away from his next attack.

At this point a massive flesh golem with a rotting pig's head sewn to its neck and disjoint limbs of various racial progeny lumbers into sight from the other side of the fort. It carries two blood-spattered cleavers, each the size of a man's arm, and charges Berend, sending him tumbling back. Saraiya sends powerful healing energies his way but is also smothered by biting insects as the crusty poised above the arch finally gets another target for his beetle-grenade. She advances, and there's an ominous snapping sound from beneath her feet.

Several rotting planks give way and from the dark void beneath, a massive horde of cockroaches surges forth. Seraiya barely avoids tumbling into the pit and is resolute in her intention to strike the golem. She does so, smashing what's left of a human arm away from its chest.

Delgado coolly observes the melee... and decides that the skeleton he's noticed is much more enticing than all that. He jumps down from the rear wall, shoves the remains over and rummages through its pack, finding a wrapped parcel of stained paper tied with string and oozing a clear liquid into his hands, as well as a pair of armbands, tied together with a short steel chain. Above him, from on high, Elumai unleashes a pillar of flame upon the various swarms crawling about the place, crisping hundreds of the tiny creatures and blackening the flesh of the golem and its crusty minions.

Berend smashes into the golem, sending the abomination stumbling back, multiple arms flailing feebly in the air as it tries to ward off his attacks, but so ferocious is the assault that the sutures on the creature's body start unraveling, leaving a trail of body parts sliding to the floor in its wake. Sweat beads on the dwarf's forehead... he's under constant assault from hordes of malevolent insects, and it will only be a matter of time before he's brought down...

Cradle Plain -- Session 64 -- Sunday 20th February 2011

2011-10-27T05:11:00.000-07:00

Another lost recording. :( I was having a few troubles with my normally rock-solid recording equipment. Check The Story So Far for a quick review.

Cradle Plain -- Session 63 -- Sunday 13th February 2011

2011-10-27T04:53:00.000-07:00

In which the company leaves the safety of Emerandes to journey south, and deals with an ancient, slumbering threat deep in the wilderness...

Roster (Party Level 11th)
Berend - Dwarven Fighter (Dreadnought)
Elumai - Eladrin Wizard (Shiere Knight)
Seraiya (Companion) - Eladrin Cleric
Finial - Half-elf Paladin (Justicar)
Jonas - Human Rogue/Ranger (Master Spy)

November 6th, 370 Pale King's Reckoning

Berend spends a few precious hours researching information on, as he calls it, "extracting the juice of several wizards" which he now knows will be necessary to reinforce the so-called 'slip-shield' of the planar jammer, but the public libraries of Emerandes, though impressive, don't provide much help in the short time he can spare. In the end he decides that rescuing Lord Riva might well serve his purposes better than fruitlessly walking a thousand dusty bookshelves looking for clues, and as it happens the group as a whole has reached a consensus that going after Riva should probably be their next course of action anyway.

The journey is 5 days on horseback and the company tracks down Wilder, who is still in the city with Shortham and staying at an inn called the "Second Stop". In the process they learn that Banks is extremely well-liked and well-respected within Emerandes, a man who will always get you and your goods from A to B; in fact, one trader they talk to is quick to inform them of stories his own father used to tell of Shortham delivering perishable goods to the city walls sixty or more years ago! This is surely well before the enigmatic caravan master could have been born, but it's one of many clues that Banks might be more than he seems. Wilder greets them companionably from his bunk in the stables, and they spend a few minutes catching up before hiring four of his most rested animals (40gp a horse, with 20gp refundable upon safe return... friend rates, of course). So confident is he in their prowess that he guarantees ten hours travel for every eight hours achievable on a lesser steed; if true, this will knock a day off their journey in each direction.

November 7th, 370 Pale King's Reckoning

The company rides out under a clear blue sky in which a sliver of moon can be seen over the distant peaks of the mountains to the north. There is very little traffic on the King's Road that morning, and what little they run into is heavily-guarded and prone to suspicion. One large caravan -- a single trader, surrounded by heavily-armed mercenaries -- reports losing two of its number to an ambush further south, but apart from that, the day passes uneventfully as they travel first south-west and then veer off the main highway onto a less-travelled route winding south towards Lukktor. As the sun sets, Berend -- seemingly untroubled by fatigue -- proposes pushing on through night. The night is cold and clear, star and moon shining in the heavens, and the motion passes.

Some hours letter, a piercingly cold northerly wind picks up, biting to the marrow. Unnervingly, this unnatural phenomenon seems to change direction with the travellers, always blowing from their back. Finial notices formless shadows in the corner of his eye, blowing past him on the wind... looking closer, the shadows take the form of animal silhouettes, a ghostly menagerie fleeing an unknown threat. After a couple of minutes of this, the wind drops, the shadows dissipate, and the Plain returns to normality. Pondering the situation, Elumai is reminded of something she's read about called the "Winds of the Wild", an omen of ill-fortune often reported to plague those who insist on walking dangerous roads. She wonders aloud how such a phenomenon could apply to them, when by all accounts their fates have already been stolen by the demoness? It's an interesting quandary, but no-one has any answers.

As they push on, the starlit sky overhead is gradually obscured by the thickening branches and broad, greasy leaves of trees native to this part of the Plain. The road, such as it is, has plunged into woodland.

November 8th, 370 Pale King's Reckoning

As the sun rises, Seraiya begins to wane in her saddle, and a decision is made to rest for a couple of hours. The wind has dropped, and yet a murmuring can be heard in the undergrowth all around them, almost as if the trees themselves are whispering behind their backs. Nothing is to be found upon inspection... but the party does notice an inviting clearing a few hundred feet down the path. It seems terribly convenient and enticing, but the group is not one for turning its back on the unknown (despite Berend's grumblings).

The clearing looks like a hurricane once blasted through it, leaving a huge pile of tumbled-down boulders and splintered trees around the edge of the area leading to a rubble-strewn slope, covered in deadfall, which ascends into the shadows of the trees and out of sight (although they can hear water somewhere up there). An abandoned camp fire sits in the centre of the glade, mostly obscured amongst the knee-high grasses which have been given leave to grow in the area. Elumai and Finial sneak in for a closer look: it would seem that several people have recently converged around the fire, flattening the grass, and a discarded back-pack sits to one side.

They carefully approach. The camp-fire is long-dead, about a week old by Finial's estimation, while the back-pack contains mundane adventuring gear long-rusted (and the mouse that scurries away as they empty its nest onto the grass suggests it's been there for some time). A few days of salted rations are about the only things of any use. Elumai has spent a few minutes tilting her head towards the whispering in the trees. There are definitely voices under there, but they're too distant and fragmented to make out clearly.

Berend clambers to the top of the deadfall and looks about. On the ledge is a pool of stagnant water, and two giant stone feet, which are all that remains of a statue which once stood guardian over the glade but which has now shattered and collapsed into the pool. There is also an oaken door set expertly into the rockface, with lettering carved into the wood which has long-since weathered away. Berend suggests rubbing soot into the door and a vestige of rellanic script gradually fades into view: May the eyes of the Fey forever watch over this place.

He then turns his attention to the pool. His first suggestion is to dig a trench and drain the thing, but when Finial wades in he discovers it's only knee-deep and littered with blocks of stone. He quickly heaves the weed-strewn chunks into the open air, and begins to reassemble them on the grass. It's a deific, kindly-looking eladrin holding a longsword, which when laid together reveal passages of religious script; in translation, these writings recount various funerary themes, promising the blessings of a distant patron who is evoked using a selection of different names (but who on reflection is obviously the Raven Queen).

Elumai meanwhile has used ritual magic to decipher the whisperings, only to find that they are themselves the verses of a ritual called Corpselike Visage, being repeated all around them. This would normally be used to give someone the semblance of death, even to divinations, and raises all kinds of unpleasant possibilities about the tomb. Finial steps forward to have a look.
The door is ancient, but scrapes and stripped lichen around the stone at its base indicate it may have been opened much more recently. A quick examination by Elumai reveals it's Arcane Locked, and the enchantment resists her efforts to Dispel it... so she resorts to her significant lock-picking skills instead, and with more success.

As they wrench the door open, the whispering all around them gets suddenly very loud. A passage cut into the hillside descends via a rough staircase into the dark below, the walls covered in green moss and other plant-life that has overrun and invaded the space. Relanic glyphs carved into the rock follow the same pattern as the prayers engraved into the statue, and there is the sound of dripping water below.

The company descends carefully. The only things to give them pause are gossamer thin webs, strung across the stairs and climbing the walls. Berend tosses a piece of statue noisily down the stairs, which gathers up all of the webs on its way down before crumbling to a stop in a stagnant pool. Two shadowy, multi-legged shapes emerge from the rubble, swarm up the wall, and disappear, chittering, into a crack next to a large, open double door at the bottom of the stairs.

The party descends, a Light spell cast upon Finial's helm illuminating the way. In a large chamber below, six statues, all of which have been smashed down to their feet, stand upon a raised platform, in the centre of which rest two cairns, built of stones which have clearly been brought down from the ledge above. Two large arachnids can very clearly be seen lurking in clutches of silky webbing strung across the walls and ceiling. Berend waits only long enough for his companions to enter the room before launching his Thunderburst hammer at the nearest spider. In the crackling concussion, the curtains of spider-web around the room billow out, and from alcoves behind them, several trolls rush forward to attack the interlopers of the tomb.

Meanwhile, the spider which Berend attacked leaps from the ceiling onto his face and strands of thick silk erupt around him, pinning him to the floor. One of the trolls growls in broken common -- "Wake the mother!" -- before moving to block the exit, however it doesn't reckon on Finial's extended reach and the paladin's spiked chain slams into his back.

A second spider skitters across the ceiling and leaps towards Elumai. With a single word of command, she bisects the room with a blazing wall of fire. The spider screeches as it tumbles into the flames, and its attack goes wild, but as it lands it turns its abdomen towards her and fires a glob of webbing that roots her in place. This is the last mistake the enraged arachnid ever makes, as Berend, perfectly placed, brings his hammer down in a crushing blow which all-but obliterates the creature in an explosion of gore. Webs and the accumulated dust of ages smoulder in the fire, filling the room with a thin but cloying smoke and the smelled of burned decay.

The other troll has clambered up onto one of the cairns and is scooping rocks off the grave. Suddenly, the whispering around them coalesces into a rasping voice -- "Who disturbs my slumber?!" -- and the rocks tumble outward in a cascade to reveal a decrepid, rag-clothed old woman. She pulls herself free and strides through the fire to reach Elumai.

"I have turned the magics of this place into dreamless sleep, these centuries. You will not be the end of me, girl!" -- the hag beneath the forest

The hag unleashes a Sleep which rolls inexorably over the party. Elumai and Seraiya's eladrin blood protects them from the spell, but Finial and Berend find their eyelids growing heavier by the second. Fighting the ennui, Berend musters his strength and charges the frail old creature... only to find his axe batted aside as if it was nothing, and his last sight as he collapses into the creature's arms, unconscious, is her hideous smile and rotting fangs.

The heat of the Wall of Fire slowly bakes the room, and its occupants. So cunning was Elumai in its placement that her opponents find their options all-but reduced to simply charging the company and hoping for a hit. Elumai follows-up with a Thunderwave, but succeeds only in throwing Berend across the room into the corner. "...five more minutes..." murmurs the sleeping warrior, just as he's pounced upon by one of the spiders, which can't resist a sleeping victim despite the fact that its flesh sizzles under Finial's ongoing challenge.

Finial defends himself against a vicious broad-sword strike, and lashes out with a vengeful Astral Thunder, almost knocking both trolls off their feet. He follows up with a Radiant Pulse, slamming his opponent away from him and back into proximity of the Wall, before finally succumbing to the hag's enchantment himself. Seraiya sends a healing wave towards the still-sleeping Berend, and kicks Finial awake before Branding and killing the troll which was attacking him. Elumai, meanwhile, finally drops the Wall and runs over to shake Berend awake... meaning the hag, who had discorporated to haunt his dreams, re-appears next to him, laying herself vulnerable to multiple attacks and dying with a scream of despair on her lips.

The remaining troll and spider pose few problems to the company, and they pause to search the tomb and tend to their wounds. There is a selection of old, rusting adventuring kit, suggesting that the spiders within have been feasting on travellers for some time, and along with the equivalent of several hundred gold in currency, they find a mouldy sack with a handy couple of Potions of Vitality. Content with a good day's work, they go on their way.

Tiles vs. Whiteboard, the battle continues!

2011-10-26T07:22:00.000-07:00


Big, isn't it?

It took me a while to come around to tile-sets. I've drawn my battle-mats for years on a large, chunky, 1-inch gridded dry-erase whiteboard, because this gives me ultimate flexibility over layout. Not only can I can whack out an encounter in just a couple of minutes, but I can change scenery on the fly, add decals and annotations, draw pretty pictures... whatever I want. The group can also use it for buff/debuff tracking, Initiative, and all that good stuff. It's powerful, and with just a few simple colours, looks pretty nice on the table as well.


Not one of my best, but shows the whiteboard in use

Two things happened to make me try dungeon tiles. First, my whiteboard is getting old. The grid is now all-but impossible to see, and the surface is stained with the ghostly remains of old encounters where we accidentally used permanent ink or where the colour has worked itself into flaws on the surface. Finding a whiteboard with the same features at a reasonable price has proved hilariously difficult. I wish I'd bought five of them a decade ago instead of just the one which has done such sterling service since then.

Second, I actually started paying attention to what Wizards was producing instead of assuming that my twenty-five year-old memory of flimsy cardboard tiles with scuffed corners and dodgy artwork still represented the norm. After buying a set of Wizards of the Coast's Sinister Woods, that old memory was laid to rest straight away. The tiles were stocky and durable, and the art was terrific. Similar dip-tests into the Paizo product line were no less promising.

Since then, I've used them on-and-off alongside my faithful old whiteboard. They're not dry-erasable, so they make it hard to draw unique and encounter-specific objects onto the play space (as opposed to, for example, Paizo's Gamemastery Map Packs, which are dry-erase but not as durable), but for generic and reconfigurable settings such as the random overgrown ruin, the forest glade, the ancient temple, and so-on, they add cool and welcome variety to the proceedings.

To really be useful to me, though, as a complete replacement for my whiteboard, dungeon tiles of any kind will need to pass the following litmus tests:

They need to be cheap, plentiful, and varied. Much of Wizards of the Coast's old line is now out-of-print but still readily available on eBay, and in any case has now been assimilated by the new "Master" tiles range. Paizo and other vendors still have well-stocked online stores. So, no problems there.

They need to be durable. I need to be able to stack them in a box, pile them on the floor, and throw them around the room. The Wizards sets, old and new alike, are the gold-standard here; the Gamemastery products lag behind slightly, but have other advantages to make up for it. Looks like we're set here as well.

I need to be able to quickly assemble a complex encounter on-the-fly. This is where tiles' versatility starts to work against them. Storing and organising stacks and stacks of the things so that you can quickly find what you need is a real problem, and the danger is that you resort to something dull and uninspiring on the table just to keep the game moving. I can translate a map from adventure to whiteboard in a minute or two... I need to find a way to catalogue my tiles to achieve the same with them.

I need to be able to customise the battle-mat without damaging the tiles. This is the real biggie. Whiteboard battle-mats have infinite flexibility, and every one of them can be unique; tiled battle-mats will always look somewhat homogenous. What I can't do at all on the Wizards tiles is draw that glyph trap, or that crack in the wall, or that gutter full of fire, or in fact any feature which is not served by the tiles I have on-hand. One solution here will be thick-stock dry-erase transparencies, cut into various sizes and available on-hand to lay down on the tiles and draw over. I'll be trying that experiment as soon as I've found a suitable material. (The Paizo map-packs, by the way, don't suffer from this problem: they're smaller, more specific and much less interchangeable, but they're glossy and dry-erase out of the box.)

So with all that said, on to a mini review of Wizards' Master Set: The City, which is part of the latest line of dungeon tiles from the publishers of D&D. I bought this sizable box because I don't have any urban tiles at all... and also because I wanted to see how the new sets compared to the old ones (now defunct).

I was pretty blown away, I have to say. The set was more expensive than its predecessors, but it comes packaged in a bullet-proof cardboard box of the kind you'd expect to contain a whole campaign setting. I was dubious that it would be filled entirely with tiles (which would have been astonishing value), but pleased to find it was at least half-filled with tiles, measuring about twice as many as you'd find in the old packages. This turned out to be a storage consideration: when popped, the tiles easily fill the entire box.

Other than that, the quality of the artwork and the variety of tiles, including street, plaza, house interiors, sewers, and a welcome selection of carts, horses, statuary, pipes, etc., is excellent. I would have to say the set represents good value for money.

Cradle Plain -- Session 62 -- Sunday 6th February 2011

2011-10-17T04:50:00.000-07:00

Unfortunately the detailed recording for this session was lost, however you can refer to The Story So Far for a quick run-down on what happened.

Cradle Plain -- Session 61 -- Sunday 9th January 2011

2011-08-08T04:38:00.001-07:00

In which the company sees the disparate threads of its fate begin to intertwine, that which was uncertain is now lost, and that which is dead can still give up its secrets...

Roster (Party Level 11th)
Berend - Dwarven Fighter (Dreadnought)
Elumai - Eladrin Wizard (Shiere Knight)
Finial - Half-elf Paladin (Justicar)
Jonas - Human Rogue/Ranger (Master Spy)

November 5th, 370 Pale King's Reckoning

The following day, another letter arrives from Uncertain Futures. It seems there is more to divine about the group, and Dame Ambrose is very keen to do so:

Dear ...,

I hope this note finds you well, and I thank you again for your visit. I ask also that you not be alarmed by what I have to tell you.

I have seen many futures, many spirits, and walked untold paths. Some have come to pass, many have not. Every beginning is an end, every epilogue a rebirth. Such is the nature of things, and so should it be.

Discomfited by your reading, and those of your friends, I have taken some time to meditate on the images revealed to me. What I have discovered is unnerving to say the least. There is a veil there I cannot pierce, paths which descend into mist and void and pain, and there is a... presence, a terrible presence. I have no name for it, and surely would not utter it even if I knew.

I would ask that you pay me a second visit, and this is most important, in the company of all of your colleagues, at a time of your choosing. I am strongly inclined to perform a second reading of your group as a whole, that the uncertainties I am suffering may resolve into a clearer picture. I feel that this reading may cast into harsh light many of the paths which await me, and far from charging you for this favour, I can offer the sum of 250 gold pieces each for the privilege of re-visiting your futures, paid in advance. That is the extent of my coffer, I'm afraid, and is therefore non-negotiable.

Dame Malificent Ambrose

The party decides to follow up on this invitation as quickly as possible, but find the shop closed when they arrive. Isabelle opens the door to them, and informs them that Dame Ambrose herself ordered the shop shut until their arrival. Whereas last time they were led into the kiln-like basement one at a time, on this occasion they are led down together.

The party is reminded how the shape of the room and the general flow of energies seems to focus on Lord Eleron, the bespectacled observer sitting implacably near the outside of the room. Finial's keen insight detects a degree of trepidation in Dame Ambrose's posture, her finger-tips white with strain upon the table. He enquires after her but she waves his concern away. "It's very kind of you to ask, but it's merely the presence of so many subjects in the room at once..." Her furtive glances towards Lord Eleron, as still as a statue behind his reflective glasses, suggest otherwise.

Dame Underwood retreats to a small cabinet, withdraws a thumb-sized pearl, and hands it to Jonas. "You're giving this to me?" Jonas asks. "I would simply ask that you carry this focus with you for the duration of the ritual," she says, and with a glint in her eye: "I expect it to be returned." (Elumai later identifies it as a Pearl of Tunneled Insight, a ritual focus that can aid the casting of complicated divinations, especially on those who are unaware they're carry it.)

A glimmer appears in the crystal ball and Dame Underwood retreats to her customary seat. Dame Ambrose's eyes shift behind her eyelids, and then several things happen at once.

A door slams upstairs, and the curtains arranged around the periphery of the room waft inwards as if disturbed by an unfelt breeze. As they settle slowly back against the wall, there's a palpable vibration through the floor and table, and brick dust filters down from above.

Malificent's eyes unexpectedly flick wide open. "Well! That's fine then!" she says much too loudly. "I declare this reading complete, you may all leave!" Her skin glistens with sweat, and indeed the atmosphere does seem more oppressive than it had a few minutes ago. Berend tightens his grip on his axe. "I don't think so," he growls, as the table begins to rattle and the crystal ball trembles on its mount.

Malificent stands, her chair clattering to the stone floor, and turns towards her husband. "Eleron! You have to stop this now, this is going too far!" she wails, her voice teetering on the edge of panic. Eleron, his jaw tight, his fists clenched white around the haft of his cane, doesn't answer, and as Finial gets up to see if he's okay, the basement shudders in the wake of a thunderous boom which brings shards of brick and mortar showering down from above. A large crack appears in the ceiling, Isabelle screams from the office upstairs, and the room goes completely dark.

The party moves to a defensive posture. Sections of the wall, neatly sheared into geometric shapes along the mortar lines, begin to push in, as if pressed from the other side. Hoping to break Eleron from his fugue, Elumai conjures a searing globe of light in front of his face, causing (or so it would seem) the hitherto motionless gentleman to rise unsteadily to his feet. He lets go of his cane, which clatters loudly to the floor, and clutches his temples. "No!" he shouts in a voice brought low by fear, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to pry! How could I have known--? There's no need for this--!" But then, as if in answer, his eyes erupt in eldritch fire, illuminating the whole room in a sickly green; there's a sudden, grotesque popping sound, and he collapses forward, writhing on the slate floor.

Saraiya begins to chant a low prayer to Corellon and Finial moves to help Eleron, but before he gets more than a couple of steps, Eleron gets smoothly to his feet. Behind his glasses, two streaks of burned flesh across his cheeks tell of the awful violence done to him, and when he opens his mouth to speak, it's not his own voice, but that of a woman, which issues forth. It's grim and potent, simultaneously distant and immediate, an expression of power which few in the room have ever felt before.

"I am Vrexima, wardress of the Eighteenth Layer, Lady of the Dark Glass; Matron of the Writhing Womb! These destinies are now mine! Your sensor is rebuked! Your lives are forfeit!"
-- Vrexima, speaking through Eleron, in the basement at Uncertain Futures

Dame Ambrose screams and jams her palms against her ears, while Dame Underwood presses herself against the wall, immobile with terror. Finial, who had braced himself for any funny business from Eleron, unhesitatingly swings his flail into the diviner's face, intent on knocking him out before he can do anything else. Eleron is sent reeling over the back of his chair and slumps unconscious to the floor.

As he does so, there's another resounding crack and a great chunk of the ceiling collapses in pieces to the floor (luckily for Jonas the table doesn't give way under the cascade of bricks). A wave of sudden and unexpected cold rolls out of the dark crack in the ceiling, through which is visible a starless night sky. A long, spindly leg reaches tentatively through, followed by a claw, followed by a devilish face, as a hideous babau drops down onto the table and hisses at everyone in the room. Berend swings at it, but the blow is clumsy and the creature dodges easily aside; it does not, however, anticipate the agile reverse swing which slashes across its thorax and sends it tumbling to the floor. Acid sprays from the wound but rolls ineffectively off Berend's armour.

Eyes narrowing at this unexpected injury, it leaps onto the dwarf, ichor dripping from its claws, and both of them suddenly teleport away, appearing away from the others on the opposite side of the room in a tangle of claws, teeth, and blade. The babau bites down towards Berend's neck, but he deflects the blow with his axe, acid hissing and rolling down the wooden haft towards his gauntlets. As he does so, sizzling energies from Elumai's wand streak past the creature's head and slam into the wall.

Elsewhere, several low sections of basement wall complete their ingress and cave inwards. Two cackling, diminutive humanoids - demonic quasits - clamber through from the other side; one of them leaps onto Dame Underwood, wraps its arms around her and begins heaving her back from whence it came; the other looks around for a second -- exposing itself to a snap-shot from Jonas, which goes wide -- chuckles to itself, and vanishes from sight.

Stripped of his target, the rogue tumbles out from his vantage beneath the table and delivers a telling blow to the babau's flank, spraying steaming acidic blood all over the room. This gives Berend all the opportunity he needs to send the creature reeling on the blade of his axe. Several more assailants drop down from the cracks in the ceiling, slimy rupture demons, plopping down on a wave of steaming gloop which continues to drip into the room. In the wake of these new arrivals, the babau waits for its quasit minion to reappear opposite Berend and then focuses on the dwarf's mind... a smooth voice in his head, confusing and dazing him, taunting him with the possibility of relief if he would but attack his friends... Finial meanwhile smashes his flail against the demon, but the explosion of ice normally accompanying such a blow hisses and evaporates off the creature's leathery hide.

Mavy Underwood's hysterical screams become tinny and distant as she's pulled through one of the low holes in the wall, her flailing hands clutching and grasping at the rough brickwork. Jonas lunges forward, pulling her back through the hole and sliding in, feet first, to take her place. In doing so he gets his first good look at the landscape beyond: an almost featureless plain of dust beneath a steel-grey sky. On the distant horizon he can see a cloud of dust and smoke which he knows, suddenly and instinctively, is the wake of a battle which has raged ten-thousand life-times. Huge winged combatants stride amongst hordes of smaller foes, and the sounds of unfettered carnage drift across the tractless landscape towards him. The demon he has chased laughs cruelly at him, grabs his feet, and starts dragging him into the Abyss.

Elumai chooses offense as the better option, fey stepping across the room and erupting into a cloud of flame, setting many nearby enemies alight. The rupture demons, as expected, explode, splattering demon-goo on their allies and healing their wounds (more oozing demons soon arrive to replace them). Saraiya sends a blessing of good health to the besieged Berend, before carving the brand of Corellon into the unwilling flesh of the nearest quasit. It hisses at her, flickers, and disappears.

Finial, Berend, and Elumai attack all about them in an effort to turn the tide and slowly the third wave of demons is beaten back. Mavey is healed by Saraiya and gets unsteadily to her feet before heading groggily towards the stairs, walking like a drunkard through the ferocious melee and emerging, miraculously, without a scratch.

Meanwhile, in the Abyss... Jonas draws a spray of blood from his foe, a wicked wound which bleeds thick globs of steaming blood onto the dusty ground, and as the creature yelps in agony his next blow sends it reeling across the desert before it collapses, dead, in a puff of dust. Smiling in the knowledge of a job well done, he throws a look over his shoulder at the barren landscape, a look, perhaps, of temptation on his face, before retreating back into the basement, where he finds the attacking hordes have at last been beaten back. Acid runs in rivulets down the walls, and the air is laden with the metallic smell of demon blood.

Eleron is in a bad way. His face is terribly burned, but to Elumai's trained eye it's obvious he is, or was once, a wizard. Berend treats him and brings him round. "Do I live?" he asks. "Is this.. Hell? Malificent! My darling, are you still alive?" Dame Ambrose is still in a faint but Berend assures him that she's unharmed. Eleron gasps his last testament into the cloying air.

"You have to... have to know.. your futures are not uncertain... they are gone! There is nothing there, no paths, no potentials... She has them now...!"
-- Eleron, in the aftermath of the incursion at Uncertain Futures

He gasps in agony, clutching at Berend's arms as black goo wells up in the bloody holes where his eyes used to be. "Find the bard... he brokered this... this transaction..." but with that he breathes his last. Berend looks up at the others, the same questions on his face as those going through everyone's minds: who is this 'Vrexima'? Unfortunately, the name means nothing to them, but Berend frowns as another memory tickles his mind.

"Eleron! What happened to him!" Dame Underwood reaches tentatively out to Eleron but Berend gently pushes her hand away. There is a thoughtful look on his face, and he reminds the others of the minstrel who apparently sung their praises all the way back in Winterhaven, a fellow by the name of Richmond Homily. Could this be the bard Eleron was talking about? It would seem to be the only connection they can make at this point.

Berend is of course keen for all manner of rituals to be cast on Eleron's body, including Raise Dead, but they certainly can't afford the sums of money involved and it will depend on whether Eleron's estate can stump up the cash. Either way, his remains will need to be presented to the proper authorities, and his corpse is gently shrouded and together with Isabelle and an almost catatonic Dame Ambrose, they take leave of the premises. (Jonas, of course, ensures the promised payment is collected before they go, and it seems in all the excitement that Eleron's Glasses of Obfuscation have somehow found their way into Elumai's pockets as well).

Father Layre at Cathedral Solace, the most majestic of all of the city's temples, and center of learning for those rites applying to the deceased, accepts Eleron's body and asks only one question: what fate do the bereaved seek for this corpse? Elumai asks the attendants if anything can be done for Eleron's wife, and they reply that due to Dame Ambrose's status they would be prepared to apply the necessary rituals and seek payment from her after the fact.

The Speak with Dead being requested of Eleron's body is, however, a different matter, usually requiring all kinds of forms and permissions... but at that point a nearby clerk steps forward to inform Father Layre that a representative from the Cloaks has arrived to personally oversee an invocation of the necessary ritual, with the Court itself picking up the cost. Layre frowns at his subordinate but the young man simply nods and shrugs.

"It seems," says the good father, "that news travels faster in Emerandes every day."

A room is set aside and as preparations are made, Jonas takes the opportunity to slope off and sell the Pearl of Tunneled Insight (later, when he shares out the proceeds, he makes no bones about where the money has come from). Saraiya performs the necessary incantations, and Eleron's charred remains shudder into some semblance of life. In this macabre setting, the company asks the questions most on its collective mind.

"Who is the Bard?"
"His name was shown to me... the name of Homily..."

"What was the deal you made with the bard?"
"I have made no such arrangements... The bard has been given insight and power beyond his ken... he has made associations with demons who will take his soul... for power over story... over legend, and life... "

(This is not the first time the company has heard of someone's fate being used against them, as they recall how the potential futures of the patrons at Pargsmeer House were stolen to feed the devil who had long-since taken control of the vile old ruin.)

"How do we reclaim our destinies from the demon?"
"The contract has already been struck... find the one in the middle... find the Broker Inbetween..."

(This name also rings a bell: the "Broker Inbetween" was a power otherwise known as Obery, who took the form of a goliath and held ultimate control over the mercenaries wondering the Underdark. Finial had identified Obery as the name of the old messenger of the Gods, the only power which allowed the deities to communicate with each-other before the Fall.)

At this point Eleron's body sags and exhales a long, final, fetid breath. One of the attendants steps forward and examines the corpse. "I believe your ritual is over," he says, bowing to Saraiya, "but an impressive display nevertheless, madam. The dead do not lightly give up their secrets."

The company retreats to the inn, there to ponder the latest turn their lives have taken...

Cradle Plain -- Session 60 -- Sunday 5th December 2010

2011-05-16T04:34:00.000-07:00

In which the old Warden of Karrick Kur enacts his final plan, an old friend is rescued, and the paths of the future throw up some uncertain surprises...

Roster (Party Level 11th)
Berend - Dwarven Fighter (Dreadnought)
Elumai - Eladrin Wizard (Shiere Knight)
Finial - Half-elf Paladin (Justicar)
Jonas - Human Rogue/Ranger (Master Spy)

November 3rd, 370 Pale King's Reckoning (continued)

The gnome skulking behind the curtain is a sight: filthy, with a milky gaze and a mouth full of rotting teeth. Jonas's weapon slips between the patches of what look like crocodile hide which have been hastily sewn into the creature's jerkin, and blood drools out over the blade. The creature lashes reflexively out with its acid-soaked dagger, burning Jonas's flesh, and emits an ear-shattering shout which leaves the rogue's ears ringing in pain, completely deafening him. It also alerts other gnomes hiding in the various niches, who jump upon the party, bright beams of magic lancing from their fingertips. Finial and Berend stagger back, blinded by what looks like a miniature sun exploding into life before them.

Berend flails out with his weapon, but to little effect as the gnomes are able to use the thick hangings to defend themselves. Beside him, Finial's Wrath of the Gods expands to bathe the whole room in an energising radiance, but his spiked chain lashes out into nothing but thin air as the gnome he was targeting vanishes from sight. From within the ring of curtains, the creature's voice shrieks out in fury: "You have invaded the sacred throne room of the Warden of the Karrick-Kur! You will not survive to regret your actions!"

The gnome facing Jonas has similarly little time for regret, as a flurry of strikes from his deadly opponent leaves it choking to death on its own blood; Jonas, satisfied with his work, slips behind the curtain and out of sight. Meanwhile, Grioss, the self-appointed king of this domain, struggles to his feet on quivering muscles, leaning heavily on a crooked cane, and pursing his thin, pale lips, he emits a piercing whistle which even the deafened rogue can feel reverberating in his skull. his raven pets next door explode immediately into life, pouring like a tidal wave through the archway and engulfing Finial and Berend in a storm of feather, beak, and blood.

Elumai has worked her way around the melee, heading towards the eastern door which she sees is bolted from this side. But despite the possibility that Seraiya is imprisoned within, she can't abandon her comrades, and turns to unleash a Thunderwave upon the attacking flock.

It smashes into them, scattering a few towards the ceiling and propelling the plate-clad warriors within out of harm's way for now. Another gnome emerges from the shadows, is shocked to find the wizard more than a match for his dagger, and blinks out of sight, while one of his fellows takes the opportunity to slip a knife in from her flank. Finial quickly follows Elumai's attacks by unleashing a cold-infused Astral Thunder, and the air bulges with divine power, smashing the birds into wall, floor, and ceiling. Ice-rhymed feathers rain down around what's left of their bodies, crushed and twitching on the flag-stones.

Suddenly a voice as dry as the old throat from which it issues speaks out in elven: "I will speak to Elumai Nyastai!" The wizard ignores Grioss for now, slipps between the flashing daggers of his gnomes, and sends one of them reeling through the curtains in the wake of another Thunderwave. "Tell your boss I'm out here if he wants to talk to me!" she shouts after it.

On the other side of the room, one of the gnomes grows tired of Jonas's games and rips down the nearby curtain... but the rogue, hiding in the shadows above, is nowhere to be seen. Convinced some kind of magic is afoot, he shoots randomly into the alcove, but the bolt pings harmlessly from the wall near Jonas's foot. He turns and shrugs at his captain, who roars in frustration and unleashes a static bolt on Berend intended to stop his heart dead in his chest, but the effect discharges harmlessly across the dwarf's armour.

The nearest gnome to Berend has slipped back into cover but the curtain behind which it's hiding has become cold and brittle in the wake of Finial's attack. He swings his axe in a mighty arc which shatters the frozen cloth and thuds satisfyingly into the gnome behind it. "Who wants to talk to her?" he enquires over his shoulder as he wrenches the weapon free.

The air thrums with teleportation energies as the gnomes flit from place to place, seeking vantage points from which to do the most harm. Jonas ducks from alcove to alcove, stabbing his sword on whichever of the gnomes makes the mistake of passing within range, while Finial and Berend push through the ring of curtains to engage the Warden himself.

Even bent and crippled with age, Grioss towers over them, one palid eye glowing with energy. He swipes his cane at Berend but the dwarf ducks easily under the feeble attack, leaving the fomorian off-balance and staggering back, wheezing heavily, onto his throne, where he gasps for breath. Elumai appears on the periphery of the throne room, ready to support her friend. "Ah", Grioss wheezes, "here after all..." Elumai looks upon the creature with a mixture of pity and loathing; "Put down your weapon, and we'll talk," she offers, the words echoing disconcertingly from the mirror images arrayed around her.

The gnomes don't seem interested in parlay, however, and push their attack on Berend, sweeping him from his feet and launching him across the room on a bolt of static energy. Elumai is forced to Shield herself from a barrage of entropic bolts, and Finial staggers under the weight of a combined attack with poisoned daggers, tapping his stored Astral Thunder to try and even the odds.

Grioss' laboured breathing acts as the soundtrack to the battle, every shuddering breath sounding like it might be his last.

Jonas turns his attention towards him, leaping up onto the throne amd crushing several skulls underfoot as he sweeps his blade at the fomorian's neck. A thick layer of cloth deflects the blow, but that doesn't dissuade the rogue from kicking out with his feet in an attempt to dislodge him from the throne. He bounces off the leathery frame of the giant and ducks under the huge fomorian hand that swats out towards him.

"What future for Grioss of the Karrick-Kur? What future in his dotage? None. No longer."
-- Warden Grioss in the prison tower of Karick-Kurr

At the Warden's words, the company notices several dire ravens gathering at the archway to the western chamber. Cawing loudly, they hop forward, forming a line along the inside of the curtains. Elumai takes the opportunity to Ensorcel the fomorian, and his eyes seem to sharpen as the magic takes hold. "None shall attack this eladrin flower!" he commands, his voice stronger and clearer than it has yet been. The remaining gnomes suffer a brief moment of doubt but in the end seem happy to press their assault, including on Elumai, and Grioss is compelled to strike out at the nearest gnome. The pathetic creature jumps aside and shreaks pleadingly at his master: "But this is all for you, my Warden, my king! All for you!"

Jonas takes advantage of the giant's disorientation to lure him into what he thinks is an easy hit, but leaps nimbly out of the way at the last second and the Warden's fist crunches down on the throne. "No," he murmurs, "I will not be distracted by your antics... my orders were clear..." and he swipes out with his cane, not only sending Elumai reeling but crushing the skulls of two of his gnomes. The remaining gnome, caught between his previous instructions, his love for his master, and Grioss' unpredictable behaviour, turns tail and starts wrestling the bolt open on the eastern door, but the shadows lurking in a nearby alcove flash suddenly to life, and he drops dead on the end of Jonas's blade.

"Thusly did they play their part in the last duty of Grioss", the old fomorian mourns in a hoarse whisper. "I will see my clan walk in the sunshine of this land again..." He emits another whistle, harsh and discordant, and the dire ravens suddenly swarm over him, pecking and tearing the last of the giant's life from his wasted body. (The companions do nothing to stop the birds as they feast on the Warden's body, and later as the ravens disperse, they root amongst the remains for the spoils of combat, finding a belt of platinum badges worth several thousand gold, but no magic.)

With Grioss dead Elumai wastes no time wrenching the eastern door open. The room inside is circular, windowless, and bare, with guttering torches providing flickering light, and the wizard is overcome with relief to see Seraiya imprisoned inside, apparently unharmed. She is however chained to the wall, via a coil of rope wrapped around her neck. As the door swings open, there is an ominous *thunk*, and the wooden floor on which she's sitting hinges down, sending her plummeting. The chain and rope uncoil too quickly for Elumai to react... and go taut.

She desperately rushes forward... but there is a loud splash from below, and it seems that the rope has frayed and snapped, sending Seraiya plunging 150-feet into the boggy water below. Jonas pushes past and unhesitatingly throws himself through the trapdoor, and Berend follows. The two companions plunge through the air, smash through the tree canopy, and disappear into the depths of the pool, emerging coughing moments later with Seraiya in tow, all three of them alive but much the worse for wear. Seraiya clambers ashore, telling Jonas and Berend to keep their distance as they try and persuade her they're friends of Elumai, but a few seconds later Elumai emerges from the tower and the two friends are at last re-united.

Saraiya pulls a folded letter from a hidden fold of her clothes and hands it to the wizard. "I assume this wasn't from you then?" Elumai reads the missive with an angry frown, but doesn't share its contents with the others.

The company takes the time to investigate the hollow behind the waterfall. There, three suits of armour stand guard near an old relanic-carved archway, clearly a disused portal of some kind. Berend keeps one wary eye on the armour and brushes his hand over the wall... and indeed the suits tremble and collapse off the stands which were holding them in place. Elumai inspects the broken remnants and discerns that they were once constructs, but that whetever energies bound them together have long-since decayed (Berend wastes no time stacking the pieces in his Bag of Holding); she also turns her attention to the runes, reading "The blood of our enemies is our strength", but on close inspection she finds that they have already been stripped of the valuable residuum she was looking for. The portal itself seems long-dead.

The exhausted companions confer briefly but they're keen to return to the city, and decide between them that their work here is done for now. The token takes them without incident back to the lake at Emerandes, relatively still under a bright autumn sky, and the trip back to the harbour is free of incident. Upon arrival, the company decides it's time to make some money from their hard-won treasure and spend the rest of the day selling the various valuables they collected in Karrick-Kur. Between them, they negotiate a solid infusion of cash from various vendors and specialists in Emerandes, most of whom are delighted to find that a new group of powerful adventurers has moved into the vicinity.

November 4th, 370 Pale King's Reckoning

The party decides that the next order of business is to register their interest in the "Pillar to Post" cross-city race, due to start in a week-and-a-half. Under the temporary name "Berend's Band", with registered place of residence at the Fall Right Inn, they submit their entry.

No-one comments on the fact that Elumai seems to have dressed-down in the presence of her friend, or that she has carefully hidden the trappings of her magic in the folds of her leather armour.

With a little time to kill, the advert from "Uncertain Futures" looking for volunteers also catches their interest. The shop, located on Spivey Crescent in the expensive Master's District, is austere and anonymous, but there is a large frontage with a red velvet curtain draped enigmatically behind the glass, suggesting something tantalising hidden within. A bell jingles over the door as they enter into a pleasant-enough waiting area, decorated so as to put visitors at ease, and a young woman gets up from behind the small desk at which she was working. She introduces herself as Isabel.

"Good day, welcome to the Futures. It will be my pleasure to guide you through your reading today. Please take a seat." She offers her guests some wine as she explains what will happen next. "Dame Ambrose will soon invite you below, where she will walk the paths of your destiny and describe the many mysteries which await you. We can, of course, make no guarantees as to their accuracy. She will travel as near or as far as the tides of fate permit." She continues more seriously. "I must ask you not to speak to Dame Ambrose, Lady Underwood, or Lord Elerond, all of whom will be present during the procedure. Simply take your place at the table and await your reading."

Apart from what she knows of Uncertain Futures itself, which is a known offshoot of a renowned order of diviners within the Court, Elumai has also heard of Elerond, who presides, rumour has it, as they eyes and ears of the Court within the shop. To the question of why the fee has been waived, Isabel explains frankly: "Once a year, Dame Ambrose must re-synchronise herself with the energies moving through the city. If she didn't, she would find her perceptions drifting further and further from the center of this great place."

Jonas volunteers to go first. He's led down a short flight of spiral stairs into what seems for all the world to be the inside of a red-bricked kiln; the walls curve gracefully in a smooth dome a few feet above his head, and the walls are lined with graceful silk curtains which drift and ripple in the wake of his arrival. (Finial later suspects that there's something deliberate in the imperfections he notices in the construction, and something seems off to Elumai as well; at first she thinks the design focuses arcane energies into the center of the room, but some niggling doubt remains which she can't put her finger on.)

In the center of the room is a large table draped in a black cloth which fans out at its base, carpeting the floor in a to a radius of a few feet. An intricate cotton embroidery reminiscent of the lattice in the Grand Foyer of the Spire is laid on the table, in the center of which, resting on a small wooden plinth, is a green crystal ball. Several chairs surround the table but only one is pulled out.

Sitting on the opposite side of it is a woman who Jonas assumes to be Lady Ambrose. She is of noble bearing, with elegantly coiffed hair and a light dusting of make-up, and wears an assortment of fine-looking jewelry over the top of a courtly dress and bodice. Nearby, another woman, presumably Lady Underwood, observes him with a friendly smile, and opposite her, sat stock-straight on a high-backed wooden chair, is Lord Elerond.

He's an imposing figure, dressed in a tightly-buttoned suit set off by a purple cravat and a tall top-hat. Round-framed spectacles, reflecting Finial's face with mirror-perfect clarity, rest on his crooked nose, underneath which a flowing white moustache drapes past his chin. So little movement can Jonas discern from Elerond that he's unsure if the man is alive or dead. (Elumai later detects some kind of aura on his glasses, something designed to obfuscate arcane effects.)

"Take a seat, sir. Dame Ambrose will address you shortly." Isabel withdraws back up the stairs leaving Jonas alone with the diviners. He gets the impression the Dame's air of confidence is a little superficial, but can make no more of his observation than that before a flare of light glimmers in the depths of the crystal ball. She sits forward and rests her hand on it. For a few seconds there is quiet. Lady Underwood observes the globe with interest, while Lord Elerond sits like a statue a few feet away, staring -- or so it seems -- at the table.

"I see many potentials here, yes," Dame Ambrose whispers, "but these energies can shatter so quickly..." She withdraws her hand briefly as if burned, then returns it to the crystal. "A crack of lightning, like history torn asunder! The fates are aligning! The dimensions have no hold over this one! So much to tell... so much to show..." The light in the crystal ball dims and she turns a placid look on him. "You may leave now."

"I don't think so," Jonas replies bluntly, and Dame Ambrose quirks an eyebrow at him.

"No? You were apprised on the rules of your reading? You already seem to have broken one of them, sir."

"If you really knew about me, you would have expected this."

"I tread distant tides. I could read a future which is but minutes from the moment, or years from now, how can I tell? I will scribe your reading in due course, but you must return upstairs so that I may walk with the spirits of your friends."

Jonas shrugs and acquiesces, whistling his way back to his companions. Five minutes later, a distant bell sounds, and Isabel collects Jonas' reading, inscribed in flowing handwriting on a small scroll tied with a red ribbon. One by one the companions are called, enjoying a very similar experience to Jonas, and receiving their readings in turn.

Elumai's reading:

"You are unbound. I cannot see you.
"I see a spirit that was not what it once was. Is it you?
"I see fear in the light of new dawns. Is it you?
"I see hope in the shadow of old wrongs. Is it you?
"I see a spike through the cloud, and oil poured upon the clear waters. Is it you?
"I see the child of the harvest, reborn in the sun's dimmed eclipse. Is it you?
"I see the rage of the monster, and the unkind gift. Is it you?
"I see the pride of the king and the windrider's long fall. Is it you?
"I see you."

Finial's reading:

"You are unbound. I cannot see you.
"I see the drake and the firestorm. Is it you?
"I see the lost quarter, and the re-discovered hope. Is it you?
"I see the rudder that steers the captain. Is it you?
"I hear the screams of ten-thousand souls in the wind. Is it you?
"I see the first strider, and the light of knowledge in its eyes. Is it you?
"I see you."

Berend's reading:

"You are unbound. I cannot see you.
"I see a circle of thorns about the uncharted chaos. Is it you?
"I see three brothers but one face. Is it you?
"I see the son become the father. Is it you?
"I see the march of the unhomed and the face of the teacher at its head. Is it you?
"I see a shadow at the gate of the hub. Is it you?
"I see rage unhomed and the agony of promises fulfilled. Is it you?
"I see a disease of the flesh and the heavens brought to earth. Is it you?
"I see you."

Jonas's reading:

"You are unbound. I cannot see you.
"I see fear in the face of friends, and triumph in the face of enemies. Is it you?
"I see the call of one and the answer of many. Which is you?
"I see innocence at the gateway to revenge. Is it you?
"I see blood on the scar of the world and a great wheel turning upon it. Is it you?
"I see the player become the game, and his cards arrayed. Is it you?
"I see blades in the moonlight, and the five corners of the world crying out. Is it you?
"I see you."

Cradle Plain -- Session 59 -- Sunday 21st November 2010

2011-01-28T04:48:00.000-08:00

In which the adventurers mourn the loss of one of their number, an insurance policy is taken out against the imminent danger of death, and the company finally comes face to face with the venerable warden of the Feywild prison...

Roster (Party Level 11th)
Berend - Dwarven Fighter (Dreadnought)
Elumai - Eladrin Wizard (Shiere Knight)
Finial - Half-elf Paladin (Justicar)
Jonas - Human Rogue/Ranger (Master Spy)
Aerallo - Tiefling Warlock

November 2nd, 370 Pale King's Reckoning (continued)

In the house of horrors which is the crocodile's stomach, Elumai feels the last of her consciousness slipping away. She grasps at a Potion of Healing and fumbles blindly with the stopper, but she has no strength even for that, and loses awareness with the bottle clasped unopened in her hand.

The crocodile rallies against Finial's Radiant Pulse, forcing its way back into the pool where it's most at home and where it knows instinctively it has the best chance of survival. A surge of filthy water washes over the paladin as the jaws once more clamp down on his armour, squeezing flesh and bone.

Out in the open Berend activates his Dwarven Scale Armour and quaffs his own Potion of Healing. A surge of invigorating energy courses through him and he withdraws from the kill-zone between the two quicklings, their blades clanging off his axe and armour as they jeer at his retreat. Crashing through the undergrowth, he almost barrels straight into Finial, water pouring from his plate-mail as he retreats from the pool, keeping the crocodile at bay with the lance of his Radiant Pulse.

Behind him an explosion of leaves and shortswords announces the arrival of the quicklings as they chase Berend through the undergrowth. Both he and Finial swipe at them as they streak past but with unbelievable skill they dodge under the blades and deal a dreadful reverse-handed blow to Berend which brings the dwarf to the edge of unconsciousness... however with characteristic endurance he finds the will to stay on his feet, sweeping at them with his axe and desperately searching for an opening in their defense.

For Aerello, however, time is up. A spasm of muscle finally crushes him to death within the crocodile's gullet. The giant reptile once more descends to the bottom of its pool, hoping that the intruders who have caused it so much trouble will simply leave it alone to digest its meal in peace.

Finial re-energises his Radiant Pulse, burning the crocodile with light now amplified by the Gem of Radiance he has placed at his feet, and touches his other hand to Berend in order to heal him against the renewed assault of the quicklings. It's barely enough to keep him on his feet, and the two defenders know they're quickly running out of time. The crocodile has no choice but to attack the cruel half-elf whose magic is hurting it so badly, and hurtles out of the pool to bite down on him. This puts it directly in Berend's sights, who having had no luck hurting the nimble quicklings, takes the chance to bring his axe down on the creature's snout. There's a satisfying crunch of bone, the crocodile jerks wildly under the blade... and sags to the sodden ground, dead. Berend wrenches his axe from the beast's skull and turns a victorious smile towards the quicklings, for whom the fight has suddenly taken an ominous turn.

Finial is now free to challenge one of the quicklings and bring his will down upon it. The world goes blindingly bright for the creature, the paladin's silhouette all it can see. Behind him, Finial's comrades start cutting themselves free, coughing and retching their way into the open... and he uses the distraction to smash his wrecking ball into his foe's chest, sending it reeling into the undergrowth. Its companion is then afflicted by psychic horrors, injected into its mind by Elumai from where she lies across the pool, and an ominous figure glimpsed only from the corner of its eye can only be Jonas, stalking it from the shadows. It's a far cry from the single, undefended dwarf they were fighting a few seconds ago, and retreat is the only option. "Let's get outta here! Grioss can take care of 'em!"

Which is fine for that quickling, who isn't slowed, but bad news for his mate, who is, and the hapless creature is immediately set upon and killed by the rest of the party. With blinding speed the remaining quickling tears through the undergrowth to what he thinks is freedom, but he has reckoned without the enhanced challenge placed on him by Finial, and in a pillar of golden light, he's reduced to a twitching, smoking corpse.

Calm descends. Against all odds, the party has survived a deadly ambush with only one casualty. Breathing heavily, they hide amidst the roots of the mangroves to recover and thank whatever gods have looked over them.

From the crocodile's stomach they harvest almost a hundred gold's worth of unfamiliar coins, a dangerous-looking stiletto (which might have accounted for the crocodile's bad mood, and turns out to be a Wyrmtooth Dagger +3, later sold above-board to the Court of Cloaks over Jonas and Elumai's protestations), and a pouch with several magical potions. That's all the time they're prepared to take, and under the watchful but terrified gaze of several of the enclave's gnomes, the adventurers scale the wall and retreat back to the boat.

The inter-planar token works with no problem, much to everyone's relief, and Captain Dorral, shocked and amused in equal measure by the trouble they obviously found themselves in on the other side, offers them his cabin to get cleaned up. They return to dry land, and retreat to the inn to lick their wounds.

Finial has a plan, and wastes no time delivering his little finger to the temple of Bahamut in the First Ward. For a small fee, he arranges with Father Moliff for the expendable digit to be used in a Resurrection ritual should he not contact the temple within an allotted period (his friends having agreed to foot the bill). The good father is no stranger to such requests, and confides in Finial that he keeps several jars of bodily extremeties in the basement. The two men share a moment of grim comedy, but Moliff closes the conversation thusly: "Absurd though it might be, it has saved many deserving souls over the years."

The operation to remove the digit is quick and professional but not, by any means, painless, and Finial has to work hard to convince the others of its merits. Only Elumai eventually agrees. and the two of them secure their deposits with passwords ("Just Platinum" and "Arcane Fortunes" respectively).

Jonas meanwhile discovers how hard it is to convince a member of the Court of Cloaks that a mundane, albeit valuable blackfire gem, is a magical artifact worth many times its true value ("Young man, you realise that any mage in the city could tell at a glance that it is not, in fact, magical?"); nevertheless he finds the Court more than willing to pay market value for valuable gemstones. Elumai also discoveres the name of a noted alchemist, Doctor Routfit, something of a failure as a mage, so she's told, but a true prodigy with potions, ointments, and unguents, and who she hopes will pay good money for the alchemical cauldron she found in the duergar stronghold. She decides not to do anything with the information just yet.

Housekeeping complete, the companions finally take the opportunity to recuperate fully before venturing back into the Feywild.

November 3rd, 370 Pale King's Reckoning

The following morning, the party returns to Captain Dorral, who despite thinking they must be gluttons for punishment, agrees to sail out into the lake on the light morning breeze. Once again they take the dinghy and relocate to the Feywild... into a massive cacophany of noise as a net of bells, chimes, and bottles hastily erected over the site of their last cross-over collapses under them. The company leaps defensively from the boat but despite the alarm, the swamp looks as quiet as it did the day before, and they're not immediately assailed.

They cautiously approach the stockade. The only discernible difference they can see is that there now appear to be small heads bobbing back and forward on the other side of the wall: gnomes, patrolling the top of the stockade. Jonas approaches by stealth and observes the newly-employed guards: bored, cold, carrying short-swords they likely don't know how to use. Within the compound, many more gnomes than before are now milling about repairing the damage inflicted during the previous assault. Multiple cooking fires burn feebly in the damp air, although the white smoke snaking up from them seems to dissipate unnaturally in the air before rising more than a few feet into the air.

Jonas analyzes the makeshift walkway which has been strung haphazardly along the interior of the stockade and, smirking, reaches a hand over the wall to pull on a poorly-knotted rope. The entire structure suddenly hinges off the wall and collapses to the ground, taking two squealing gnomes with it. Nursing sprained ankles and bruised egos, they dust themselves off and immediately start blaming each-other for their shoddy workmanship. Jonas, chuckling, uses the opportunity to signal his friends before dropping unseen into the compound and setting light to a nearby tent.

The fire expands rapidly and throws the camp into outright chaos as gnomes race to-and-fro from the pool trying to put it out, oblivious to the fact that much of what they're chucking on seems to be making the blaze even more ferocious. The rest of the adventurers use the distraction to skirt the wall, slip in through the open gate, and dart across the compound to the base of the tower where Jonas emerges smugly from the undergrowth to greet them.

The central tower is much as they remember it. It rises, canted, from a grove of thick mangrove trees in the middle of the compound, and is surrounded by the deep, stagnant pool which so nearly claimed the party the day before, fed by a waterfall which seems to erupt from the foundations of the tower itself. One-hundred-and-fity-feet above their heads it splits into three pinnacles, and a flock of black-feathered birds circles lazily in the air-currents high above. Windows much too small to have been intended for fomorians have long-since been bricked in, although there is a large crack in the wall mid-way up the tower which might allow ingress.

Using the mangrove roots as cover, the party reconnoitres the perimeter of the stone plinth at the base of the tower, and finds a cavity behind the waterfall with runes of ancient relanic carved into the stone (these appear to be notices of execution, containing accounts of dozens of mundane crimes and the names of those who committed them). The water itself erupts from a watercourse built into the tower's foundations, and beneath that, there is an arched entryway leading into shadowy darkness.

For the moment, the party decides that the crack in the wall should be investigated before they make a decision. Jonas scoots quickly up the side of the wall but even with his formidable skills, he's almost completely exposed to the rest of the compound and is spotted by one of the gnomes, who shouts an alarm. The party starts clambering up the canted wall after him, under a hail of crooked and mostly ineffectual crossbow bolts fired from hand-crossbows wielded by the guards below (none of whom seem inclined to follow). After a few seconds of this, two of the gnomes break off and race back towards the pool. The party desperately ascends the tower, looking to get inside and out of range before anything bigger and more dangerous is drafted into the fight.

Jonas ascends the rest of the way and slips in through the crack in the wall. Inside, a space that was once three separate levels is now a shattered landscape of splintered joists, moldy floorboards, and broken stone, covered in vibrant green mosses wet with moisture. On what would have once been the upper floor, a door offers a suggestion of access to the upper floor, and below him a stairwell leads back down into the lower levels of the tower.

He wastes no time making for the door, but as soon as he sets foot on the rubble a flock of huge ravens with black-sheened feathers erupts from the shadows above, buffeting him as it escapes into the open-air and distracting his attention from the grimy, gelationous tentacle which snakes from the recesses of the rubble and lashes out at him. The rogue's instincts serve him well, however, but as he dances aside from the writhing appendage and its attempts to coil around his ankle, other tentacles emerge from the rubble all around him.

The rest of the adventurers, seeing the birds erupt from the tower and hearing Jonas's cry of surprise, redouble their efforts to get inside. Finial hoists Elumai up the wall and into the chamber, where she unleashes a reflexive firestorm on the tentacles as they surge in to grab her; this doesn't stop her being grabbed and flipped end-over-end into a distant corner of the broken room, however, out of sight of her companions.

Finial clambers in and looks desperately for his friends, but they're nowhere to be seen. Still, he strides purposefully into the room and unleashes Astral Thunder on the tentacle beast; the crumbling space trembles in its wake, dust and gravel filtering down from above. Elumai fires off another burst of magic as the tentacles swarm around her, while Finial is grabbed around the waist and thrown violently towards the ledge. He manages to grab a jutting outcrop of rock and save himself from a painful landing 70-feet below.

Berend hauls himself over the ledge and wastes no time hurling his brand new Thunder hammer into the fray. It explodes with a mighty concussion, spraying fragments of jagged rock over the nearby tentacles and forcing them into a retreat. Finial climbs carefully back inside and maneuvers himself into a safer position before challenging the beast and preparing to defend himself, while Elumai once again unleashes a deadly conflagration which leaves those tentacles around her a crisp and blackened mess. A deadly aerial assault from Jonas is subsequently enough to force the tentacles into retreat, and they shrink back into the shadows and out of sight.

The party collects itself as Jonas climbs up to the door. It's medium-sized, much too small for a giant, with a crude iron knocker screwed into the center; he eases it carefully open. Within, there's a large circular chamber, presumably the middle chamber of the three pinnacles at the tower's peak. Its interior is hidden behind a shroud of filthy hangings -- cloths and hides scavenged from the camp below -- but Jonas can just about make out two giant-sized, hulking shapes, one of which appears to be seated on a massive chair of some kind.

Around the outside wall, shallow alcoves are covered by what might once have been flags, but are now so filthy that the emblems embroidered into them can barely be made out. To the right an archway leads out onto the western chamber, which appears to be open to the daylight and from where he can hear the rustling of feathers, and to the left a closed door bars the way to what is presumably the eastern pinnacle.

Sneaking in and taking a better look at the western chamber, he sees several dozen massive ravens clustered and jostling around something in their midst (whatever it is, they're dipping their beaks in and coming back up smothered in blood). Guano and discarded feathers suggest that this has been a home to the birds for some time.

Berend follows him in and puts his eye to the cloths hanging a few feet from the door. The hangings also turn out be flags: on the inside, he can see a selection of heraldry and insignia from many common races. They surround a throne of eladrin skulls on which sits a massive, aging fomorian dressed in loose robes; his skin is deeply wrinkled, his eyes sunken and milky, his hair a tattered white like cobwebs clinging to his scalp, and his breaths are just thin rattles in his chest. Two enormous ravens, bigger than anything they've seen so far, cling to his shoulders, heads dipped to his ears as if whispering advice in his ear, and a pair of gnomes sit with their feet dangling from the arms of the throne (as he watches, they clamber up the fomorian's spindly arms and push the ravens aside; the venerable creature barely seems to notice them).

Jonas takes a peek inside one of the alcoves and sees the lower half of a statue, its head and torso smashed to pieces, but more significantly finds himself face-to-face with a surprised-looking gnome, perched on the remains of the statue and waiting to pounce. Both combatants take a moment to size each-other up, before blades flash in the dim light...

Cradle Plain -- Session 58 -- Sunday 7th November 2010

2011-01-09T10:49:00.001-08:00

In which a wary reconnoitre becomes a ruinous assault, it turns out that everything is just done bigger in the Feywild, and Aerallo discovers new and exciting ways of getting eaten alive...

Roster (Party Level 11th)
Berend - Dwarven Fighter (Dreadnought)
Elumai - Eladrin Wizard (Shiere Knight)
Finial - Half-elf Paladin (Justicar)
Jonas - Human Rogue/Ranger (Master Spy)
Aerallo - Tiefling Warlock

November 2nd, 370 Pale King's Reckoning

With Hottentoat's summons answered, and a few clues in hand as to what to do with the Planejammer courtesy of Fennig Darshue, the company turns its attention to helping Elumai's friend, presumably Seraiya.

On the harbour-shore of the Tondo-Gantsee Conflux, the turbulent lake to the north of the city, the party sets out to hire a boat. The captain of the Dorral's Favour is a grizzled, lifelong veteran of the lake, with deep-set eyes and a heavy tan. He takes the gems acquired by Jonas by way of payment, and in response to his assurances that they're magical, just smiles at him. "Whatever you say lad..." The captain is also unimpressed by the story he is fed about the purpose of the trip out onto the lake, but ultimately doesn't care or make an issue of it. "I ain't paid to listen to stories or to tell 'em. Find a seat and if we start taking on water, bail 'er out as fast as ye can!"

The wind is strong and fast and the schooner streaks out onto the waves, soon arriving at the innocuous-looking south-eastern part of the lake where Elumai's object reading has directed her. The group switches to the row boat and, while the captain looks on with interest, Elumai takes out the compass and enacts the somatic gestures she witnessed in her vision. The sun glints on the northernmost cardinal of the compass... and then everything changes.

With a thud and a splash, the boat lands on sodden marshy ground and rocks gently to a standstill. What was a cloudless blue sky over the city has become a roiling, murky gloom; inky rainclouds slide smoothly overhead and a warm, heavy drizzle is in the air. The marsh extends to the horizon in all directions, and slow-moving ripples radiate out through the shallow water in the wake of their arrival. The atmosphere is thick with the smells of rich peat and rotting vegetation.

Peering through through the misty veil, the travellers see two things of note. First, the silhouette of a three-pinnacled tower, canted slightly off-center, can be made out rising from a thatch of mangroves far to the south; and second, Jonas spies a post or stump of wood sticking out of the earth a couple of hundred yards to the west.

He immediately sets off to investigate. The silty water of the swamp consumes all evidence of his slow progress until eventually he arrives to find a cut-off tree-trunk hammered into the ground, and covered in eladrin skulls. It's clearly a totem of some kind, but the glyph which has been etched into the bark doesn't mean anything to him. Hefting one of the skulls in his hand and looking suspiciously about, he beckons the rest of the party over. Elumai has already recognised this area of the Feywild as the Karrick-Kur from her vision, and although this totem is clearly a marker or warning of some kind, she's similarly unable to shed any light on the markings.

The company approaches the tower as carefully as it can, Jonas out in front. There are eight or nine stories, but every window appears to have been bricked up, and the top third of the tower splits into three pinnacles all at different angles from one another. The building stays standing despite looking old and on the verge of disintegration, and is surrounded by a stockade built of fifty-foot-tall tree trunks with sharpened tips. No gate is visible, but a vague smell of cooked meats wafts out of the compound over the company.

Jonas's eagle eyes spot the top of a mostly-bald head strolling along behind the sharpened points of the stockade -- giants! More specifically, he thinks, fomorians. The party confers to discuss strategy, but as soon as he realises what's waiting for them on the other side of the fence, Berend loses all restraint and charges the compound. The others endure a moment of stunned disbelief before moving quickly to back him up, Elumai hastily disguising herself and her heritage as much as she can.

Jonas leaps up the wall and onto Berend's back but is unable to dislodge him. "That's the way lad, up ye come!" Berend shouts approvingly as the rogue desperately tries to pry his hairy fingers from the wall, all to no avail as his grip is at least the equal of his resolve.

By now all pretense at stealth is abandoned and the party ascends the wall. This is a relatively simple task as the rope bindings keeping it together are at least as thick as their arms and offer easy hand-holds. Jonas eventually gives up on Berend and leaps up to the top of the stockade to get a better view, spying within a rough, open patch of cleared marshland. The base of the tower is smothered in a thatch of dark mangroves bathed in a pool covered in sticks and leaves, but its stone foundations are just about visible through the tangle of foliage. The sound of a shallow waterfall can be heard deep within.

Several animal-skin tents dot the courtyard near a large, crude gate, essentially six tree trunks tied together on a knotted hinge. A massive fomorian, over thirty-feet tall, patrols the inner wall, shoulders slumped, dragging what is basically a defoliated tree behind him as a club of some kind. The giant looks bored, miserable, and inattentive, all good reasons why he hasn't heard the noise made by the less stealthy members of the company. Small, dirty figures -- possibly gnomes -- scuttle about the place, and as Jonas looks on, one of them throws a mischievous rock at the fomorian's head. It bounces off with a hollow sound, much to the amusement of the gnomes, but the giant just throws a growl of annoyance in their direction and keeps plodding around the place.

It's about now that Berend reaches the top of the wall. Though he throws himself over with all the strength he can muster, he gets stuck in the gap between two trunks and looks to Jonas for help. "Chuck me over lad!" he whispers, but is ignored, much to his continued annoyance. The rogue instead skirts past him and scouts around the wall, finding the rest of the compound much the same. None of the gnomes notice the shadowy figure climbing overhead, and a small fight breaks out between two of them over who gets to eat a podgy, wriggling centipede they have just caught with a pointed stick.

Berend finally frees himself, clambers somewhat gracelessly over the other side, and tears off around the stockade looking for the giant. This interrupts the gnomes, who scream at the top of their voices and dive straight into the trees and out of sight. The fomorian turns, frowning, and pokes his head around the edge of the tower, shouting at them in elven. "I told you filthy little insects not to raise your voi---!" but he's cut off as he catches sight of the party, assembling itself at the base of the fence (except for Berend who has charged off around the back of the tower). There is the briefest moment of consideration on both sides, before he hefts his club up, and legs it towards the gate, smashing straight through a line of tents in his haste to get away. The ground trembles with his massive footfalls.

The company has other ideas, unsheathing its weapons and taking off in pursuit. As soon as the giant realises he's being followed, he veers off and heads towards the tower instead, planting one massive foot in the creaking branches of a nearby tree and jumping up to hug the walls of the building, which he then begins to climb. This exposes him to a hail of magic from the adventurers, bringing tears of pain to his eyes and forcing him to drop to the ground in order to defend himself. "Warden we've got--" he shouts, but his warning is curtailed by a raging, Berend-shaped missile, emerging from the other side of the tower and smashing into him with axe-bladed fury.

"Try not to damage his scrotum too much, I wanna make a back-pack out of it!"
-- Berend to Finial as the paladin winds up his spiked-chain for the next hit

In support Aerallo transforms into her diabolical form and unleashes dark, searing energies onto the fomorian. The giant is surprisingly lithe, dodges the blast, and shouts "Grioss loves blood!" in her direction. There's a huge heaving splash and a hollow hiss of breath from the pool behind her, and she finds herself in imminent, mortal danger, as a huge feywild crocodile, jaws agape, explodes from the tree-line in a shower of water, mud, and splinters. It clamps its teeth around her body as the vegetation around it comes to life, shivering and writhing in sympathy with the creature's movements.

The giant wails "You're not my friends!" into the air as he sweeps the tree-trunk into the company, scattering them left and right. Berend takes the club fully in the chest and stumbles back a few paces before getting his feet back under him with a growl, and Finial is also driven back, his plated boots creating deep furrows in the wet mud. "Crocodile is friend! Friend bite more!" the fomorian bellows, one eye flashing with primal fire as he empowers his reptilian pet, and then brings his club down again, first on Berend, and then with a backhanded swipe onto Finial as well.

Meanwhile Aerallo calls on all the powers at her disposal to prevent being eaten by the crocodile, but is powerless to stop the creature dragging her slowly backwards, deep into the mangrove and towards the pool. The warlock, mangled in the crocodile's jaws, is in deep trouble, and the party unleashes everything it has on the fomorian in order to finish it off before Aerallo is tenderised to the point where the crocodile can simply swallow her whole. Splitting her attention, Elumai tests the giant reptile's intelligence by dropping a Wall of Fire across the middle of the pool. It burns the fetid surface matter off the water in a hiss of steam which singes the creature's hide, but doesn't stop it disappearing beneath the surface taking the struggling tiefling with it.

At which point, things get really bad. Attracted from the depths of the tower by the commotion outside, two grey-skinned quicklings with rows of dagger-like teeth slide from the shadows either side of Jonas. With his attention focused on slitting the throat of the fomorian -- which he does, although the giant somehow stays on its feet despite being showered in its own blood -- their short-swords slash at his flesh before they once again vanish in an burst of warped light.

Elumai, distracted by Aerallo's peril, fumbles a psychic assault on the fomorian and fey steps into the center of the pool to help her comrade, dropping out of sight with a splash. Deep beneath the surface, a panicked Aerallo is hopelessly unable to free herself from the vice-like jaws of the beast and they squeeze down, breaking bone and tearing flesh. With a final convulsion, she disappears down its throat.

Up above, Berend smashes the fomorian in the head with his axe and the giant finally succumbs to its many wounds, crashing to the ground with a terminal groan and giving the breathless dwarf a chance to look around for his friends. Elumai, treading water on the pool, frantically waves him over. Meanwhile Jonas, who has been searching methodically for the creatures which attacked him, finds himself under assault as the two shadowy assailants warp into sight and swipe their short-swords at he and Finial.

Elumai, out of options, is forced to start taking risks. She unleashes a freezing cloud on the submerged crocodile which the beast withstands, but unfortunately, the tiefling within its gut does not. The acidic soup in which she's drowning turns suddenly frigid and robs her of what little consciousness remains. The reptile, which would much prefer to sink to the bottom of the pool and continue digesting its meal, is instead forced to attack the mage, surging up through the water and pulling Elumai under in a spray of foam. Finial charges with no hesitation in after her, sinking quickly under the weight of his armor and slamming his weapon against the creatures snout. The pool flashes with yellow light and the crocodile is sent reeling from the blow, giving Elumai the opportunity to wriggle free of its mouth.

Above, Jonas has finally got the measure of one of the quicklings, drawing on all his skills to play tricks with the creature's mind such that it can neither turn invisible nor hide from the rogue. Its eyes narrow at him, an expression of disdain which fails to mask its panic, and Jonas laughs in its wake as it retreats into the undergrowth. He knows it will only be a short repreive, but maybe it will be enough, and he runs to help the others. The creature's companion briefly weighs its options before skating over the thick undergrowth and forcing Berend to duck a wicked strike to the face, and a few seconds later, Berend finds himself in a ferocious melee with both attackers.

Struggling against the water, as well as the thick weeds which seem to cling and pull at her, Elumai kicks desperately for the surface. Unfortunately the crocodile has other ideas, snapping at her heels, throwing its head back, and swallowing her down. In the creature's gut, the life is gradually squeezed from both her and Aerallo, compressed and digested from without, drowning on the beast's stomach juices from within. Still she fights valiantly, stabbing with what little strength remains at the crocodile's vital innards.

The company is being progressively dismantled around him, but Finial stays cool. Channeling Bahamut's healing energy into Aerallo, he brings her back to consciousness within the creature's stomach and simultaneously weakens the beast's attacks. Jonas rushes past him and dives into the water, plunging his gladius into the crocodile's hide and causing the beast to retreat in obvious pain, and though it lashes out at him and briefly imprisons him in its jaws, the rogue is much too slippery an opponent to be held for long. Finial makes himself the next target, practically inviting the thing to grab him, and it's an invitation the crocodile can't resist, clamping down on the plate-armoured defender.

In response he activates Radiant Pulse. The shimmering lance of light smashes into the crocodile's open mouth, sending it reeling back towards the shallow edge of the pool and leaving it vulnerable to an attack from Jonas who is treading water nearby. Unfortunately, this stimulates a reflexive lunge from the creature's jaws, and Jonas, too, disappears down its gullet. Roaring in pain, its belly horribly distended from the massive meal, the crocodile is forced out of the water by Finial's continued attack, bloody water gushing from its gaping maw.

Berend is fighting for his life and the rest of the company is gone. It now falls to Finial to save them all from a truly horrifying death...

Cradle Plain -- Session 57 -- Sunday 31st October 2010

2010-12-16T04:41:00.001-08:00

In which many doors open, new and powerful acquaintances are made in the emerald spire, and the extraordinary value of one of the company's recent acquisitions starts to come into focus.

Roster (Party Level 11th)
Berend - Dwarven Fighter (Dreadnought)
Elumai - Eladrin Wizard (Shiere Knight)
Finial - Half-elf Paladin (Justicar)
Jonas - Human Rogue/Ranger (Master Spy)
Aerallo - Tiefling Warlock

October 31st, 370 Pale King's Reckoning

The party spends the rest of the day recovering from their ordeal in the sewers, except for Jonas who is dispatched to stealthily recover any remains he can find of the civilians who were killed. He agrees to this with a murderous twinkle in his eye and melts away into the crowds.

November 1st, 370 PKR

The company takes a few minutes to register their interest for the Pillar to Post race, due to start in a couple of weeks, at a small office in the First Ward (the wizard's quarter of the city). Their team is, for the moment, submitted unnamed, but Elumai nominates herself as the contact.

Later in the morning, a young lad turns up with a wax-sealed letter for Elumai. Inside, there is a note written in elven and a broach depicting an eight-pointed compass. The note reads simply, "Save your friend." Berend offers the boy and his pa free breakfasts at the inn as reward (and perhaps, in the interests of cultivating a useful employee) while Elumai examines the broach.

It's unremarkable except for the trace amounts of divination magic it's emitting, and Elumai wastes no time casting Object Reading on it. In answer to the question of who the note came from, the momentary image of one of the clerks from the eladrin consulate flashes across her mind. To the question of how it might be used to help her, she receives the image of a delicate male hand with a silk handkerchief attached to a gold ring, holding the broach in its upturned palm; the sun is setting in the background, and glittering water lies all around.

Finally, to the question of how this relates to her friend Seraiya, she receives an image much like the second one, except the background is instantaneously replaced with thick marshland, and the silhouette of a distant, canted three-pinnacled tower can be seen in the background. Against all odds, she recognises this foetid bog as an area of the Feywild where she was taken as a child to master hunting and survival in the wilderness, a place called Karrick-Kurr.

She reports these findings to her friends, and the suggestion is made that the images may have depicted a Fey Crossing somewhere on the Tondo-Ghantsee lake. However, any possibility of investigating is at odds with the party's stated intention of attending the planar symposium due to be held at the Basilica this evening at 5pm, so it has to be put off for now.

After asking around, they find out that the keynote speaker, Fennig Darshue, is a dwarf; that the whole affair is invitation only; and that several higher-members of the Court of Cloaks are likely to attend. The problem of getting an invite seems readily solvable: make contact with Lord Hottentoat, who contacted them earlier regarding his friend Lord Riva, and sweet-talk him into gaining them entry. This requires them to venture for the first time to the great spire Emerandes itself, from which the city gets its name.

The inner wards of the city are ringed by huge civic edifices put over to the service of either the city, the mages, or the King. Several of these have distinct dwarven lines to them, a fact not lost on Berend as the company passes beneath the columns of the Basilica, the great courthouse of the city, but as they enter the First Ward, the tenor of the environment radically changes. Mages fly to-and-fro. Small communiques zip and dodge along broad, uncrowded streets towards their recipients. Golems and other automata step aside with a muttered and mechanical "Excuse me sir". Gratutitous displays of power, magic, and wealth force themselves upon the party at every turn, and it's a far cry from the dark, topsy-turvy, and tumble-down streets where they've spent the majority of their time in the city so far.

Overlooking it all is the Spire itself, one of the great Citadels of Cradle Plain, reputedly marking the grave of one of the beings who fell to earth aeons ago in an ancient epoch declared taboo by the gods of the present day (and by Osternagum, the great prophet of the mages who brought knowledge of magic to the Plain). The spire itself is a multi-faceted pillar of shining green, several hundred feet wide at its base but narrowing all the way to its cloud-rimmed tip almost half-a-mile above.

One hundred steps are carved into its base, rising to three huge archways and granting ingress to the grand entrance lobby of the the Citadel. Inside, hundreds of people mill quietly about: members of the Court, floating or walking solemnly by, those who aspire to the arcane disciplines, and multitudinous visitors amongst them.

By far the centre of attention is the huge bronze frieze hung on the wall, an elaborate display which encompasses fully one third of the circumferance of the lobby. Known as The Lattice, it is the summation of all arcane knowledge on the plain, the laws of magic inscribed by equations, pictographs, glyphs, and various esoteric symbology, at once simple enough for novices to grasp and yet full of contradictions and subtleties which only the most experienced practitioners can hope to fully understand. From a distance, the inscriptions describe grand, beautiful patterns; up close, these patterns seem to repeat at ever-more complex levels. Empty spaces of virgin polished bronze, gaps even in the knowledge of the Court of Cloaks, are many.

The company accosts the nearest official, a blonde-haired mage whose plainness is offset by the complex golden patterns inscribed on her face. She greets them politely, and as it is their first visit, invites all of them to contemplate the mysteries of the Lattice.

"It is not just the truths of magic that lie trapped in the Lattice, but the truths of life. For one is the other."
-- Court of Cloaks official, the Grand Lobby of the Spire

They show her Lord Hottentoat's invitation and she immediately walks off to summon the wizard. A few minutes later (where in the meantime Elumai takes a few seconds to correct a nearby acolyte who has been teaching improper somatics to a rapt group of students), the clockwork monkey they saw earlier skitters across the polished green-tiled floor, scampers up Finial's leg, and starts sniffing his ear. Finial offers it one of the ball-bearings from its earlier visit. The monkey accepts, and a beautiful friendship seems inevitable.

"Ah!" says a creaky voice from behind them. "I see you've been re-acquainted. He was terribly sorry for his earlier rudeness, but he had a lot of pressing errands that day, I'm afraid."

The party turns to see a hunched old wizard approaching, dressed in dirty (but pearlescent) green robes, leaning heavily on a black quarterstaff shod with silver. Wisps of grey hair frame his lined old face, and the outline of a white lightning-bolt is inscribed, somewhat half-heartedly, from his forehead across one eye to his cheek.

Elumai bows but he waves her off. "None of that, none of that! Well then, you received my summons I see, and only a day late in arriving! Heheh." He instructs everyone to link hands, takes Elumai's delicate palm in his, and there is a sudden drunken rush of air before the party finds itself in Hottentoat's apartment.

Carved seemingly from the crystal of the tower, the room is bell-shaped and hung with various colours of curtain and weave, likely to provide some solace from the unceasing and innate green-ness of the apartment. A window of thick glass looks out, from their current vantage, onto nothing but blue sky. The room, which doubles as a laboratory, seems a mess to everyone except Elumai, who discerns a certain symapthetic order amongst the chaos.

There are several workbenches, all strewn with cogs, springs, cut pieces of metal, tiny clockwork engines, and various other materiale. At the arrival of Hottentoat and his guests, two metal dogs bound out of a side room, buffeting several thick curtains aside, one jumping up at Berend and the other at Elumai, their inner workings of bronze ticking and spinning in a complex dance. From another corner, a fat, miniature gnome shuffles out from behind a curtain, looks around, harumphs! magnificently in a slightly tinny voice, and starts to clean the place with a dust-pan and brush almost as big as he is. "Turing, must you do that when I have visitors?" asks the wizard curtly, but he is ignored. Completing the menagerie, a parrot made entirely of what looks like stained glass swoops down from the ceiling and perches on Hottentoat's shoulder, nibbling at his ear.

Finial enquires as to whether these are the wizards own creations and Hottentoat nods, splendidly pleased to have been asked.

"Yes yes, all my own work. I call it inanimation. None of this suffusing machines with living spirits nonsense. I find the idea acutely offensive. No, I say that with sufficient programming, you can instill a perfectly adequate semblance of life in these creatures without stealing that spark from some other potential soul who might have a much better use for it."
-- Lord Hottentoat shares his opinion on constructs

"Like a warforged?" enquires the paladin, and Hottentoat looks taken aback,

"I should say not! And I'm surprised you even know the word, sir! Anyone so well-versed in ancient history should know the fate of the warforged, and their creators. There's no slavery here, and no chance that my little friends will rise up, destroy me, and rampage across the world! They just don't have it in them! Do you, you just don't have it in you, do you Rufus..." The wizard sets about petting the larger of the two dogs, which sits and wags its metal tail in appreciation.

Over refreshments (prepared by an increasingly exasperated Turing) the party tells of its adventures with Calamachia. "You found a working Forge?!" he cries, aghast, grabbing some note paper and a quill. "You must show me. Turing! Turing!" There's a crash of crockery and the gnome waddles out of the kitchen carrying a rolled up map of the Plain.

As the party indicates the Rowenoaks where the brothers Cannith led them unwittingly to the Forbidden Forge, they get a good look at Hottentoat's splendid and detailed map. Elumai is particularly interested in multiple sets of contours overlaid on the geography and seeming to focus around the Citadels of Emerandes, Phalax, and Lovosignum. Hottentoat prompts her to speculate on what they might be, but Elumai, suddenly feeling the pressure of a student being asked a difficult question by her teacher, can only guess in vague terms. The old cloak is symapthetic. "Confluences of magic, my dear, energies between the shadows of the Citadels. Even we don't know exactly what they mean, but they are there."

Despite this, Elumai does notice subtle interference patterns which seem to coalesce around where she knows of three fey crossings (her home Dyanosis, and the Fey Consulate and the lake here in the city), and points them out. Hottentoat perks-up at her observations. "Very good my dear, very good! Riva was right about you, I see! In time, one of your heritage and skills might not even have to chart crossings into the Feywild, you might be able to simple see them for yourself. Can you imagine?"

Coming around to the subject of the invitation-only planar symposium, the company is soon filling him in on the Seraiya situation, as well as the fact that they have come into possession of a plane jammer once owned by the Reverend Tarq Frushante. Hottentoat knows little of the planes or Tumerex itself, but is stunned into disbelief that they claim to have a planar vessel, something he hasn't heard of existing for hundreds of years, and supposes that Fennig Darshue would dearly love to get his hands on it (as would the Court itself). After a moment of strange, distant contemplation, he is able to recall exactly in which room Darshue is staying, and pens a simple letter of introduction which might lend them more credibility upon a visit.

And then at last Hottentoat comes to the business at hand. Apologises in advance for any deception on his part, he reveals that in fact he doesn't know Riva personally, and is most definitely not his friend... in point of fact he can't stand him, seeing him as an unsufferable egoist who prefers accolades to be on lavished on himself in place of the Court. The old wizard doesn't approve of such behaviour, but it seems his suspicions run far deeper about the enigmatic Dustboot who saved Elumai's life so many months ago.

Upon finding out that Riva had Raised Elumai from the dead, he seems most perturbed at the scale of such a gift. "I mean no disrespect, but why would he do such a thing? Give of himself in this manner? He must have taken quite a shine to you my dear. And you've felt entirely yourself since this procedure?" Elumai can only nod, troubled by Hottentoat's concern and his reluctance to elaborate on what exactly Riva had to "give" in order to resurrect her.

The news does little to allay his concerns. "I've long had my suspicions about him. His fascinations are unkind. His obsessions, shadowy. I opposed his appointment to the Dustboots many years ago on the basis of an intuition, but nevertheless the vote was passed. I feared that away from the spire, separated from the oversight of his peers, his nature would assert itself in ways we would come to regret.

"Since his appointment, I've spent considerable resources and called in many favours to keep an eye on him; a responsibility of my position, you see. Magic is a dangerous business, to its practitioners, to the King, to the city, and to the Court. It's no coincidence I'm sure that you found yourselves embroiled in the affairs of the Samazar Splinter -- you knew of them as the Mages of Saruun -- while in his company. It wasn't the first time he had dealings with them, long a thorn (if you'll excuse the pun) in the Court's side, ever since the day they rejected our authority and formed their own secret enclave. Disbanded, now, you tell me? And not under instruction from Lord Riva? Hmm, perhaps, perhaps not. I wouldn't be surprised if he engineered it in some way, although perhaps I'm giving him too much credit.

"And so to the matter of his recent disappearance. A member of the Dustboots entirely outside of our supervision is unprecedented and has caused no small degree of consternation at all levels of the Court, all the way up to the Emerald Magister himself, and this is especially true given the worrying company Riva has kept in recent years.

"He's had dealings with several unnerving groups, shall we say. The Old Hands at Sixth Sea, a very unpleasant bunch; the Samazar Splinter, as we know; and the Black Mantissa in Lukktor, a murderous cult with a long and bloody history..." (Lukktor is a name familiar to the adventurers, having been the source of the ruined caravan which Azurami and Xavier came upon and swore to avenge.)

"On the face of it Riva seems to have been doing his job. Before he disappeared, his reports were frequent and punctual. The Splinter is now disbanded, due to the actions of a group he himself patronised. But there's something about these cults, something I can't quite put my finger on... the necromancy of the Old Hands; the Splinter's independent work into the Rockworms of Kworm, if you're to be believed, and who-knows-what-other interplanar mysteries; and the Mantissa, brokers for powers far darker than shall be named here..."

As the subject of flurock comes to light, Hottentoat offers his thoughts on the petrified worm-flesh, recounting legends that those who came into contact with a Rockworm could subsequently smell the children of Kworm from miles away. "The Rockworms of Kworm are sSome of the most powerful creatures of old, endlessly burrowing through the earth. Legend states that if they should ever reach the World's core... poof! Everything will be destroyed in a moment of infinite consumption. Your experiences of these creatures, long thought extinct, are not to be taken lightly, and I shall report them to my superiors immediately."

So the old wizard arrives eventually at the question he has been waiting to ask: will the company take it upon themselves to track or find Lord Riva, and report back to him on their findings? He offers a bounty from the Court treasuries to sweeten the deal, and suggests that Lukktor, a town under the sway of several insidious cults, will be a good place to start. "I do not recommend that you simply walk in the front gate and start asking questions, however," he warns. "They will be the equal of you, I'm sure."

The party agrees and takes its leave, Hottentoat promising to meditate on the information given to him (which encompasses much of what they've experienced to date, including their strange experiences with Aiyanna and her group below near the Seven-Pillared Hall). They stop by the treasuries on their way to Fennig Darshue's apartment.

A gruff and harassed voice shouts back at them as they knock on the door. "Too soon! I'm not ready!" but Elumai insists that they're not here on symposium business. "Will these interruptions never cease!" says a half-clothed dwarf as he pulls the door angrily open. Laid out on the bed behind him are multiple exotically-coloured garments, and a large, dropping feathered cap hangs from a coat-stand near by.

Clearly, they've caught Darshue at a bad time. The company wastes no time with banter and asks the dwarf directly what he might know about re-joining the bisected halves of an interdimensional plane-jammer. Darshue, however, is unimpressed. "If such a thing existed, I would surely know everything about it. Since I do not, it does not. And I do not know you... is this some kind of joke? A distraction by that wizardly fellow who I embarrassed so thoroughly last year?" Darshue pokes his head out of the door, looking up and down the corridor outside for anything suspicious.

Much to his consternation, however, Elumai pushes past, grabs the nearest garment, and begins dressing the flustered dwarf, the rest of the company piling in behind her. "Alright then, on the infinitessimal chance you're serious, and given your colleague's obvious expertise in matters of hosiery, ask me your ridiculous questions again!"

When shown the rubbing of the planar map that the party took from the ship, the dwarf's attitude radically changes. "I say... yes a fold just there and the third principle of harmonic release... where did you find this wonder? I certainly didn't draw it. Tumerex? I don't believe a word of it."

Extricating himself from Elumai's attentions, he pulls a monocle from a nearby drawer and stares at each of the company in turn. "My word. It's all true! The signs of interplanar transgression are clear as day on the lot of you. If I could just..." From under his bed, he pulls what looks like a circular disc of glass, utters a nonsensical command word, and the glass fogs over. "Ah, excellent image quality!" he exclaims, showing them a ghostly image of their silhouettes from which various prismatic auras can be seen to emanate. "Have a seat, then," he says smoothly, finally closing the door behind them, "I can be a few minutes late to that lecture, I'm sure."

The company fills the dwarf in on a few more details, wary of revealing too much. "So, a plane jammer? Damaged, you say... well I wouldn't worry about that, it'll maintain its relative spatial integrity no matter how damaged... but more to the point when can I see it? Your secret is safe with me, you can be sure. Perhaps honorary navigator would be a suitable role? What's the control mechanism?"

Berend recounts their failed attempts to establish mental control of the ship. "Ah yes, a finely honed mind is needed. (I'm at your disposal.) You need to visualise the location of the ship in five dimensional space, such is the nature of all things. (I could certainly do the job for you.) There are even rumours these things have a semi-sentience all of their own. (But I would certainly be willing to give it a try.)

"To the question of repairs, on the one hand it's simple metallurgy, any good blacksmith could re-form the shell. But it's the translocation that's the tricky part... you have to reform the outer slipshell, something requiring powerful minds, or a focus into which they've imparted their energies. They would need schematics, I'm sure, and be fully informed of what it is they're attempting. But yes... I don't see why that wouldn't work..."

Berend is intrigued albeit reluctant to propagate news of the planejammer any further than he needs to, and the prospect of a fleet of ships cruising the cosmos under the control of the mages, whilst exciting to Fennig (obviously) gives the rest of the group more pause for thought. As they make to leave, Fennig is gripped by a moment of panic. "Wait! How will I contact you? Where are you staying? What are your names?" but the party simply waves goodbye and closes the door in his face. Then, with much to ponder, they return to the Fall Right Inn.

Cradle Plain -- Session 56 -- Sunday 24th October 2010

2010-12-02T04:06:00.001-08:00

In which Jonas gets the attention of the hornet's nest, his friends kick it over, and difficult choices are made deep under Emerandes.

Roster (Party Level 11th)
Berend - Dwarven Fighter (Dreadnought)
Elumai - Eladrin Wizard (Shiere Knight)
Finial - Half-elf Paladin (Justicar)
Jonas - Human Rogue/Ranger (Master Spy)
Aerallo - Tiefling Warlock

Franky's Stein is an inn deep inside one of the seedier districts of the city, frequented of old by many of the more dangerous people of Jonas' one-time-acquaintance. The place looks much the same as the last time he was here: a stiflingly-hot, low-ceilinged bar filled with the murmur of quiet conversation. As he draws his hood down there is a subtle change in the atmosphere, too minute for anyone but he to discern.

The rogue strolls over to Jack Billard, an old acquaintance, and the leather-faced one-eyed bar-fly looks him up and down.

One-Eyed Jack: "Master Jonas, all growed up. Never thought I'd see the day that you'd step foot in this city again. You must know you're a dead man walking."
Jonas: "You're still working for him then?"
Jack: "O'course I am! They keep my palms greased, and I keep me mouth shut. You know how it works."
Jonas: "Tell him I have a message for him..." (moves to draw sword)
Jack: "Now now, Mr. Jonas, you and I goes a way back. That wouldn't be violence you're threatening me with? I'm sure I got more friends in this place than you have. What're the chances o' you walkin' out that door, do you think? Put the weapon away Master Jonas, if you come here to talk, let's talk."
Jonas: "I'm surprised I got this far."
Jack: "Ah well, it's not my business to carry out assassinations sir. I leave that to people better equipped. All I do is clean tables."
Jonas: "Yeah right. You're as sick as the rest of them."
Jack: "That's a matter of opinion. Now why'd you really come back? Just to threaten a one-eyed tramp? And not alone even. I see you brought some new friends to play with. They know all about you, do they? All about your dirty little past?"
Berend: "We know all we need to know."
Jack: "Is that right, master dwarf? I could tell you a tale or two about this young man's days in Emerandes... what he got up to... sicken even a dwarf's ears it would."
Jonas: "And what have you done?"
Jack: "Ah, plenty. But I make no bones about it. I'll tell everyone in this room what it was."
Jonas: "Go on then." (nudges Finial)
Jack: "Ah here to pass judgement are you? I killed nineteen men in cold blood, me, in the course of this one life. Not a-one of them deserved it. Made eighteen gold across the lot o'them. But the value of those men's lives wasn't in the money they had in their purses, as Mr. Jonas well knows..."
-- Jonas and One-Eyed Jack, Franky's Stein in Emerandes

It's here that Jonas tires of this banter and grabs the surprised old rogue, one hand reaching for the gladius at his belt. His friends immediately unsheathe their weapons as chairs are pushed back, tables turned over, and several armed men and women get to their feet.

The tavern quickly descends into chaos, split almost equally between those who want a piece of Jonas for past deeds or for what looks like the imminent murder of Billard, and those who just want to get out of the firing line. Jonas plunges his sword into Billard's chest, and the filthy old ne'er-do-well's eyes go wide with pain and surprise. "You're a madman, after all!" he croaks, blood bubbling on his lips, before sliding, lifeless, to the floor.

The fire flares up in sympathy with Elumai's Burning Hands, thickening the already oppressive heat as her hair flies back in a magical wind unfelt by friend and foe alike. Flames streak out across the room, incinerating a half-drunk patron who had drawn his dagger and bloodying several others who are forced to dive into cover to escape the inferno. Aerello calls upon his powers and transforms into a diabolic beast, blasts of eldritch power erupting from his fingertips and engulfing one of the assassins who had stepped forward intent on slitting his throat.

By this point many of those who were spoiling for a fight are now retreating in stunned disbelief in the face of such a powerful display, but this doesn't stop Finial unleashing holy judgement on a wounded enemy. As he does so, someone else Jonas recognises appears from the store-room: Gizzard, one of the more dangerous Assassin's Guild enforcers, a scarred brute of a human a great two-handed sword in his hands and a look of perfect scorn on his face. "Last mistake you'll ever make, Jonas!" he bellows, and charges the rogue, but Jonas is ready for him, throwing him over and into his fellows, all of whom go sprawling against the bar, then leaping over Gizzard's head and punching his sword into the enforcer's thigh. The villain screams in pain, frustrated that Jonas has obviously become a much more dangerous opponent in the years since his departure from the guild.

As the party continues to unleash ever-growing amounts of injury on the throng, the contingent of patrons who want nothing to do with the fight quickly starts to swell, and what was at first a casual move towards the door quickly becomes a stampede. Unfortunately Jonas, Gizzard, and several of his fellows are blocking the way out, their steel flashing and clanging together in the doorway, so one of the clearer-thinking fellows picks up the heaviest chair he can see and flings it through the window. The glass explodes out into the street and draws screams of surprise from passers-by.

Heedless of this, Jonas tumbles over the bar, spins on one heel, and with a single crossbow bolt to the throat expertly divests Gizzard of his life. Aerello and Elumai all-but finish off two of Gizzard's cronies, and suddenly all that's left is a mopping-up exercise in the wake of the rest of the tavern climbing over each-other in their haste to get outside. A voice speaks out from the bar, and it's Jonas, a tall, frothing jug in one hand. "Beer, anyone?"

Walking the aftermath looking for familiar faces, he quickly finds one: Bob Bilby, one of his earliest contacts with the traditionally anonymous higher-echelons of the Assassin's Guild and its head, the Shadowman. A couple of young men who might have been runners he once knew, just kids who fell in with a crowd of killers, also seem familiar. The rogue feels little remorse for their deaths.

At about this point, the door to the inn opens, and Jonas dips out of sight. A gruff-looking fellow in a leather cap stands there, his keen eyes surveying the carnage with something between amusement and disgust. He strides across the room without invitation, and several uniformed guard file into the bar behind him. "What's this?" he says, lifting the head of a dead assassin, looking at his bloodied face, and dropping it with a thud back to the table. "Not what I expected to find. A plate-armoured paladin and his powerful friends in the midst of this den of thieves, and not a warm body left sitting at their drinks."

Finial calmly assures the sherriff -- who introduces himself as Trip -- that he was forced to pass judgement on One-Eyed Jack after the drunk old rogue was foolish enough to boast about his past sins. Trip is unimpressed. "While it might be your business to smite evildoers, you've left me a right mess to clean up. Checked in with your church already have you? It does seem odd to me that new arrivals to Emerandes would find their way all the way over here to the Stein as soon as step foot inside the gates."

The party is impassive in the face of these insinuations, as one of Trip's men suddenly speaks up. "Cap'n! Look 'ere! It's old Bilby, and his face is burned clean off!"

"Well now, that's a shame," Trip sighs. He looks about, rights a blood-stained table on its remaining three legs, sits down and puts his feet up. "Six months to persuade Bobby there to work for me. Now I'm gonna have to start from scratch.

"Lookit. I've got three, some even say four thieves' guilds. I've got the Blackhawks," he says, gesturing at the mess around him, "who may or may not be the front for an assassin's guild, depending on who you ask and what time of day it is... and Bobby there sure ain't got the breath to help me with that any more."

The company is vociferous in its offers of help. "Well," he says, "I drew the short straw and got command of the crappiest ward in the city while the higher-ups soak their fat arses in wine... so you want to make me an offer? I'm listening."

Finial suggests it might be beneficial to allow the company to proceed on their mission unmolested, but Trip doesn't take kindly to that. "Come now," the paladin purrs in the face of his reluctance, "consider all these societies and brotherhoods you find yourself fighting... you can rest assured they will be judged if we happen to cross paths with them.

"But I need evidence! One person to the next to the next. I need the head, not the tail!"

"And if we brought you the head, what then?" asks Elumai, the question on everyone's mind.

The sherriff considers the situation before nodding in agreement. He orders his man Barnaby to take some names (Jonas offers the name 'Jacob'). "Just one more thing then, where might you be staying?" He waves his hand at the bar. "I've a feeling the lease on this place might be coming up. I could grease a few wheels...?"

Neither Finial nor Jonas are keen, but Elumai and Berend speak up in favour of the idea, and it passes. As the final details are hammered out, Jonas deliberately lets slip an old signal he once knew from his days in the guild, whispering: "Do you like to dance along the moonlit rooftops?" Trip frowns at him, confused, but Barnaby, busy scribbling the terms of contract on a torn scrap of parchment, betrays a flush of recognition that he quickly tries to hide.

The matter of the lease is quickly decided, and the "Fall Right Inn", proprietor one Elumai Niastai, is born. It has four rooms (one with a couple of beds, the others more common room than bedroom), and a simple wine cellar, which to Elumai's relatively untrained eye seems innocuous enough (jonas later discovers a trapdoor into the tavern above and, behind one of the barrel racks, an earthy tunnel which he doesn't take the time to explore).

Soon after, Trip and his men leave. Jonas discreetly follows them to a local barracks, a building which seems to serves as both a civic centre and bunkhouse for the guard. Barnaby is visited by a man sometime later, but the conversation is out of earshot; one gold piece gets exchanged openly between the two men before he leaves, closely followed by Jonas weaving in and out of the crowd.

It quickly becomes obvious he's dealing with a pro, when between one blink of the eye and the next, his mark vanishes. Jonas just manages to catch him ducking into a network of alleyways and nips up onto the rooftops to continue following him, and in time, his pursuit becomes so subtle that the man visibly relaxes, moving back onto the main street convinced he's given him the slip. From here it's easy. Jonas's target heads north-east around the spire towards the rear of Jaren's Gable, the most expensive residential quarter of the city, then veers off into one of the many trade districts and from there down towards the docks.

Sitting comfortably on the southern shore of the great Tondo-Ghantzee lake, Emerandes does thriving trade across the water with more northern settlements, and the lake itself is a rich fishing ground. The man he's following strolls nonchalantly onto one of the longer piers, takes a last look around, and makes as if to jump into the cold water below; at the last minute, he acrobatically grabs a supporting strut, and swings under the jetty and out of sight. Jonas hasn't heard of any dockside hideouts here before, but things will certainly have changed since he left, and he's perfectly content with this result, whistling a happy tune as he heads back to the inn.

Upon hearing of this potential nest of vipers, Finial is unwilling to wait one second more than necessary to root out the sinners within and immediately counsels an attack . Jonas, at first reluctant, is easily persuaded, and a plan is hatched to first observe the locale of the hideout (which reveals to Jonas two sentries, posing as traders on the wharf) and then attack first thing in the morning.

Meanwhile, The Fall Right Inn starts to attract a modicum of attention. Word has quickly spread of the change, it seems, and may people who stop by ostensibly just to take a look at the strange and anachronistic new owners soon find themselves staying for the excellent dwarven spirits. One patron in particular gets Jonas's attention: none other than the man Jonas followed to the docks, who seats himself at a table with a couple of his friends and doesn't show any signs of recognising the rogue.

A plan is soon hatched to get the villain drunk so Jonas can pilfer a gold ring from his finger, a risky proposition which the implacable rogue deftly handles. Examining the ring, he finds that the black stone set into it lifts on a tiny hinge, and there is a small, empty void beneath. Jonas is convinced that this is some assassin's guild trinket and pockets it for later use.

Over the course of the night, Elumai enjoys her new role as serving wench to the fullest, plying the three men with ever-stronger spirits and convincing Jonas's mark that if he just stays until lock-in, he might get more than a gallon of ale for his trouble. The assassin struggles with his better judgement but her charms are too much, and a few hours later, he finds himself trussed up in the bedroom, both of his compatriots dead by Jonas's hand, and a company of seasoned and extremely well-armed adventurers standing over him.

Their interrogation doesn't get very far, as he's as drunk as a man can possibly get while not at the same time being comatose. He defies all threats to his wellbeing, demanding a professional torturer instead of the amaters he's faced with, and taunts Jonas, whom he obviously knows by name, with the truth of his flight from Emerandes years before. In the end Berend simply punches his lights out, and the company searches him.

They find two scraps of paper, one with their names and descriptions, and another with a set of times, four of which have passed, two of which are still to come, and none of which mean anything to them. Thusly unedified, they leave him to stew in his own beer, and he remains safely tied up until the morning, when Finial, Elumai, Jonas, and Berend set out to infiltrate the assassin's base.

First stop is the barracks and a quiet conversation between Finial and Captain Trip. It turns out that the good captain is well aware of Barnaby's split loyalties ("Whatever Bilby didn't turn up... I have high hopes for Barnaby...") but he's outright shocked at the company's plan to take on the assassins. "There could be dozens of 'em in there!" he protests. "I wouldn't take any less than a regiment myself!" However he finds Finial to be his usual charming self, and agrees to the idea of trumping up a couple of misdemeanors in order to pull the lookouts legitimately from the dockside and give the company time to do what they do best.

He follows through on this promise and some time later a quartet of guards descends on the lookouts. A fight breaks out as one of the traders makes a run for it, and in the ensuing commotion, the company sneaks through to the underside of the jetty. There they find a series of nets nailed to the underside of the thick planks, suspended about twenty feet or so above the cold, churning water which laps against the rocks and pilings below. A few acrobatic maneuvers and one dodged trap later, and they arrive at a sewer grating which covers a tunnel several feet wide cut into the very crystal of the city's foundations. They open the grate... and narrowly avoid being stuck by the dart trap which they also failed to spot.

Inside the tunnel, they get their first close look at the material which forms the base of the city. It's a smooth, matt emerald, shot through with subtle harmonics of green, self-illuminated and warm to the touch. It also doesn't look hewn, but smoothly cut, almost perfectly engineered, and there is much speculation about tunnelling or burrowing creatures which may have built the sewer network. Rockworms are even briefly considered, but the tunnel doesn't have the tell-tale rifling which is characteristic of the work of those dangerous creatures.

The tunnel pushes in underneath the city before splitting into a y-junction. All three tunnels are marked with some kind of glyph which is unfamiliar to anyone, including Jonas, but Elumai speculates that the south-west tunnel will head towards Jaren's Gable, the noble's district of the city, while the eastern tunnel seems to be heading in the direction of the Spire. This doesn't really help, but combining everything they know, Jonas confidently submits his intuition that the south-west tunnel is the right one. In the absence of any better ideas, they follow his advice.

On the way through they notice something odd: there's something deep within the crystal, a small shadowy blob moving slowly through the semi-transluscent material. Since the crystal has the feel of inches-thick glass, and for all they know this could be some natural property of the stuff, they choose to ignore it for now. Further down the tunnel, they come to a wooden barricade laid haphazardly across it, and Jonas disarms the relatively simple explosive tripwires attached to the barricade. Unfortunately, in their haste, neither he nor the others detect the expertly-hidden firetrap beneath the decoy, and a fireball erupts over the party and rolls down the tunnel behind them. The singed adventurers leap through the opening and avoid the brunt of the blast, finding themselves in a junction of sorts.

It's half filled with dirty, smelly water trickling in from six-inch grates high above, but the company can keep their feet dry by sticking to a raised walkway along the edge. The tunnel they enter out of is inscribed with the same rune at this end as the other, hinting that each tunnel has its own mark and what a map of the network might therefore look like.

Jonas hears voices from the north-west corridor, ordering someone into something, and the party stealths its way forward. The tunnel inclines sharply upward towards a larger underground chamber. Along both sides, wooden platforms are supported by struts hammered or drilled into the crystal, and on these crouch leather-armoured enemies ready to shoot approaching invaders. At the far end of the room, what looks like a large round bar table has been reinforced with metal straps and jammed into the tunnel exit. Water dribbles ominously between the planks.

There are also three metal cages suspended over the shallow lake of sewer muck which has settled on the floor of the chamber. Each one contains a single person, dressed in rags, bound and gagged and staring in wild-eyed terror at their captors. Armed men, presumably members of the assassin's guild, crouch and lurk in the corners, poised to strike.

Jonas scrambles invisibly up the near slope, dashes forward, plants one foot onto the wall and springs up onto the walkway, sinking his blade into the nearest foe and drawing blood. Thus attracting the attention of the entire room ("There he is! Perforate him lads!"), he focuses his mind, forces a dart of distracting psychic energy into their heads, and leaps back down out of sight. Two crossbow bolts still find their mark, however, leaving small flechettes of metal in his back which send bolts of lightning pain into his muscles when he moves.

A voice, gruff and confident, sounds out behind him. "You and your friends, drop your weapons now, or the civvies get it in the neck!" One of the guards reaches out to the nearest cage, pulls the terrified woman inside towards him, and places his knife to her neck in order to reinforce the threat. Meanwhile, the mook closest to the dam pulls out a huge maul from where it was hidden beneath a pile of cast-off planks, and looks expectantly at his superior.

Finial advances under a hail of crossbow bolts and unleashes divine fire on the assassin threatening the woman, but doesn't kill him. Elumai, heedless of the danger to the civilians, casts a freezing cloud over him as well... which also immediately flash-freezes and kills the woman he was holding. He turns to his boss, shock on his face as he realises that their carefully-prepared human shield doesn't seem to be as much of a deterrent as they had assumed. Elumai immediately follows-up by conjuring a blazing Wall of Fire, splitting the chamber in two and bathing the rear half in molten heat.

This has quickly become much more than the assassins had bargained for. Several of them feel their skin crisping under the intense heat from the wall of fire, and a second prisoner is baked alive under the onslaught, collapsing dead to the floor of her cage. The leader of the group, desperately re-assessing his options under this game-changing assault, orders his man by the dam to unleash hell, although his exact words are lost beneath the roar of the flames. His subordinate nods, and though he swings a mighty blow at the nearest wooden support, it's not enough to dislodge it. Water squirts from around the dam as it creaks and shifts in place.

Seeing what's coming, the company scrambles to get out of the danger zone, battering their enemies out of the way and clambering up the sides of the chamber just as the assassin swings the maul again and brings the dam down in a chorus of splintering wood and roaring water. Two of his compatriots pay the ultimate price for not paying enough attention when the defense was discussed and are swept by the tsunami of filthy sewage straight into the wall of fire, dying in a gout of flame and foul-smelling steam.

This sight, combined with what has already happened, is too much for the remaining assassins, and as the water begins to to lap at the walkways they turn tail towards the newly exposed exit. Two more are cut down by Finial and Elumai as they rout, and a third doesn't have time to regret surrendering to Jonas before Finial judges him unfit for continued life.

In the aftermath, only one of the prisoners still lives. He looks with a mixture of fear and hope at Finial as the paladin sets him free and heals his wounds, and collapses with a sigh of gratitude into Elumai's arms as the cage door swings open. Jonas moves amongst the bodies, casting a disapproving look at Elumai ("Charred! Frozen! Burned!" he reports, pointing at each in turn) but she has no time for his witicisms and Finial, who approves of her actions in saving at least one of the civilians, has to step in to cool the tension. "There's a place for you with the Justicars," he smiles at her.

Under questioning, the prisoner they saved, a man named Rathar, tells how he, his wife, and his sister were taken from their homes and kept blindfolded in a cell deep in the sewers along with several others. They were brought out only a few minutes before the company arrived, and from snippets of overheard conversation it was clear that the assassins were expecting an attack. For now, at least, his relief at being rescued permits him no time for grief at the fate of his loved ones.

Cradle Plain -- Session 55 -- Sunday 25th July 2010

2010-10-23T10:26:00.001-07:00

In which old arrangements come back to haunt Elumai, and Jonas decides to make some noise upon his arrival in Emerandes.

Roster (Party Level 11th)
Berend - Dwarven Fighter
Elumai - Eladrin Wizard
Finial - Half-elf Paladin
Jonas - Human Rogue/Ranger
Aerallo - Tiefling Warlock

'Elumai Niastai, on warrant of the Court of Stars and by direct order the Summer Queen, you are under arrest.'
-- Lord Hyseth to Elumai upon her arrival in Emerandes

The words hang in the air for a second before Elumai demands to know on what charges she's being arrested, but Lord Hyseth refuses to recount them in public. Jonas's efforts to intercede on her behalf are met with derision, and as the rest of the party step up in defense of their comrade, the tension is palpable. Many citizens crowd around to watch, and conflict seems inevitable.

Nevertheless Hyseth entreats Elumai not to risk an incident in the streets of Emerandes, and when she asks him once again about the case against her, he reveals only that she is accused of "conspiring in the ongoing campaigns against the Summer Queen". Upon hearing this, she agrees to go with him to the Consulate... on condition that she can bring her husband, Finial, with her.

The bluff is risky. A look of despair passes over Hyseth's face, noticed only by Finial, as he hears this apparent news, but after considering it for a moment, he waves his men back and steps forward to face the paladin. "This woman is promised to me," he says. "You have no right of matrimony and you will give her up to me now."

Finial speaks out in support of his friend but Hyseth picks up on a subtle note of discomfort in his carefully chosen words, and demands that whatever the truth of the situation might be, there is a case to answer for one way or another. Either way, Elumai must be returned to the consulate until the problem is resolved.

Finial and the rest of the group again try to intervene but Hyseth's patience is at an end. "Enough talk!" he shouts. "You will accompany me to the consulate, or we will settle this in the street paladin!" Despite the expectant murmurs of the crowd, Finial maintains his cool, and agrees to be escorted, along with Elumai, wherever she is to be taken.

Flanked by the rest of the company, Hyseth troops Elumai and Finial through the streets towards the eladrin consulate. Constructed around a fey portal which locates into the world every few weeks, its bright copper domes are clearly visible above the lush ree-canopies of the Park.

The two of them are taken inside, led past a large pool of water which reflects a starlit sky quite different from the copper roof overhead, and Finial is informed that this is the portal itself, and that the stars above occupy the sky as it would be seen in the Feywild. Beyond, in the western dome, is a small island in a little swathe of marshland, and the adventurers are told to wade the water and wait on the island to be addressed more formally. As they do so, the water saps their strength, muddying thoughts of escape.

While they wait, Elumai explains to Finial that she was once betrothed to Lord Hyseth, but that she ran away before the marriage was to take place. Of this "conspiracy" against the Summer Queen, she has no idea. Finial promises faithfully to defend her in this matter, and Jonas, who has gained entrance to the consulate and is hiding nearby, does the same. In the meantime, he decides to dodge the staff of the consulate and reconnoitre Lord Hyseth's apartments.

Some time later, flanked by guards, Elumai receives a visitor. It's none other than Lady Rhonttha Hyseth, Lord Hyseth's mother, a stately woman of imposing demeanour and advancing years.

'Elumai, still so pretty... what a perfect match you would have made for my Koryl. My dear, you have no idea how much trouble you've caused me.'

'I'm still waiting to find out what these "charges" actually are.'

'Oh, I'm sure I can come up with something.'
-- Lady Hyseth to Elumai

She demands to know of Finial's connection to Elumai, and how he believes his claim over her can in any way exceed that of her son's. Finial, however, is unrepentant, and moves straight to the heart of the matter, stating that these charges of conspiracy are obviously trumped up in order to get Elumai into Fey territory. Lady Hyseth is amused, but doesn't deny it. She makes Elumai an offer: return to the besotted Lord Hyseth, and all charges will be dropped. Elumai is ready to refuse immediately, but Rhonttha gives her one hour to mull over her future.

Meanwhile, for Jonas, the possibilities looks grim, as the residential wing has sturdy oaken doors which resist his efforts to open them. However, help comes in the form of Berend who, having persuaded/tricked the guards outside that Elumai is a member of his clan, has gained entrance and demanded of the flustered clerk an audience with Lord Hyseth. As he impatiently emerges, Jonas slips inside the room.

His apartments are spectacular, wreathed in living flora. Jonas moves quickly past a reception room, looking for something relevant to the proceedings, or which otherwise cataches his eye. In a dressing table he finds a small leather book, containing hand-written pages in elven script, describing diplomatic courtesies required of visitors to Emerandes. Of note, the instructions state that he is to consider himself a guest of the Court of Cloaks, not the Pale King; that his actions are bound by the Third Statute; and on a scrappily-written last page, "the consulate cycle is tied to the third phase of the neraphym". A small clay bowl also stands out, but he doesn't give himself the time to check it.

A few minutes later, Hyseth leaves his room once more, and goes to face Elumai, where, unexpectedly, he simply gives her leave to go.

'Enough of these games. If this is the way you want to play the game, then I shall just let you go. I'm sure I can find another one of your little friends to face these charges.'
-- Lord Hyseth to Elumai.

Elumai asks the consulate staff after her friend Seraiya, but the clerk is apologetic: she hasn't had anyone by that name come through the premises. Elumai hands her a scroll, and asks that the message be passed back to Seraiya in Dyonosis, the enclave from which she hails. Worried and relieved in equal measure, Finial, Elumai, and Jonas exit the consulate.

At last free to explore, the party sets foot into Emerandes. The great emerald spire pierces the clouds above their heads, but red cloth awnings strung across the streets protect city-dwellers and visitors from the worst of the glare, and after the paucity of opportunities available out on the Plain, they hungrily go about the business of buying new equipment from multiple shops well-stocked with a variety of goods.

As they wander around, they're accosted by a short, fat human, with his wife and kids in tow. He stares at Berend -- "You're 'im, aintcha?" -- and finally works up the courage to grab the dwarf's hand and give it a firm shake. "You're that dwarf I've 'eard about! Birin... Brin... Berend, that's it!" Catching sight of Elumai, and Finial, he's almost beside himself. "If I'd known I'd be meeting heroes the likes o' you, I'd o' scrubbed up after getting out of bed this mornin'!"

After this uncomfortable interlude, they decide to visit the "Big Board", a well-known center of opportunity for risk-taking types. Amongst dozens of uninteresting job advertisements ("Dog sitter required, payment optional"), several things stand out:

Elzeeb's Circus of Tooth and Claw: This event is advertised in all the main trade districts of Emerandes and the carnival is due to arrive five days after the adventurers arrive. This is significant, because the fliers claim that the carnival's main attraction is a captured dragon, the very dragon that Corrash, an old companion of the party's, believed might be the creature his clan had venerated for generations.

New Horizons: The Court of Cloaks has recently excavated an ancient portal beneath the city, and will soon be advertising for adventurers to take on exploration commissions. Interested parties are to report to the spire for registration, and will be contacted in due course.

Test Subjects Wanted: Pasted over the bottom corner of the New Horizons poster is a notice from a group of diviners called Uncertain Futures, advertising for volunteers to help them "tap into the divining energies which run through the core of the city."

Wanted: Valedakrun Jenomy: A well-crafted wanted poster -- one of many -- stands out on the noticeboard. "By order of the Court of Cloaks, rogue mage Valedakrun Jenomy has been declared an enemy of the Pale King and is to be brought to justice at all costs. This skilful wizard operates outside of the protections offered to the citizenry by the Court, and is to be considered extremely dangerous." The picture on the poster bears a striking resemblance to Valthrun the Magnificent of Winterhaven.

Planar Symposium: This notice is half-ripped from the wall, and has clearly been up for quite some time, but the remaining piece advertises that noted expert Fennig Darshue will be arriving in Emerandes to give the keynote at an upcoming forum to be held in the Bassilica, where luminaries of the various Courts will be given an opportunity to exchange knowledge on the subject of "the great infinity beyond the dome of the world". The date advertised is in just two days' time.

Pillar to Post: The great cross-Emerandes foot race is now open for registration! To be held as usual on the longest day of the year (coming in two weeks), entrants start at the Pillar of Dawn on the eastern side of the city, and the first to touch one of the posts of the western watch-tower wins a bounty of 2000g and their pick from one of the great treasuries of the Court of Cloaks. (Elumai: "Does it say teleporting is illegal?"; Berend: "Does it say whether killing the other competitors is illegal?")

From here, the companions decide to get a room at a tavern Jonas knows, Franky's Stein, and on the way they notice that they're being followed again, by what appears to be a small monkey made of metal. It leaps from one irritated person to the next, landing on Finial's shoulder-pad, and offers him a scroll from one ratcheted clockwork claw. After delivering the note, it bounds off down the street. Finial reads the following:

To Whomever This Note Is Presented
It is my understanding that you have enjoyed the patronage of that most esteemed Dustboot, Lord Riva Armand.

As a long-time friend of this worthy gentleman, I am concerned at his lack of communication for the last several weeks, an uncommon and worrying development for a man who otherwise enjoys the sound of his own voice above all others.

In respect of this, I ask that you present yourself to my office at your earliest convenience, so that we may discuss the matter further.

Yours in anticipation of new friendships,
Lord Arnold Hottentoat of the Third-Removed.

Elumai knows that "third removed" indicates the sender of the note is only third in succession to the Emerald Magister himself, the highest archmage in the Court of Cloaks. Clearly, some important people have once again taken an interest in them...

Cradle Plain -- Session 54 -- Sunday 18th July 2010

2010-10-23T10:25:00.001-07:00

In which the denizens of the Shadowfell are made to pay for their crimes, a reluctant hero joins the party, and an ancient mystery is uncovered.

Roster (Party Level 10th)
Berend - Dwarven Fighter
Elumai - Eladrin Wizard
Finial - Half-elf Paladin
Jonas - Human Rogue/Ranger
Aerello - Tiefling Warlock

The party arrives back where they left Shortham's caravan to find a scene of devastation. The wagons have moved on, but they were clearly attacked. Two of them stand smashed and smouldering, and in the centre of the site, in the remains of what was the camp fire, several bodies have been bound cruelly onto pikes jammed into the earth.

Investigating the scene of the attack, the party discovers small eruptions like exploded earth all around the camp site, and it appears that the attackers emerged from these locations. Gingerly checking the bodies, they're horrified to find the corpses of the Sisters of the Ashen Cloth, their faces horribly mutilated, their bodies lashed together with razor-wire reminiscent of weapons used by the shadar-kai, a race native to the Shadowfell. Rellanic runes on the pikes deliver this grim warning: "Let this death mark the cleansing of the Ashen taint from the earth."

In the midst of this carnage, the group contemplates its next move. They know that the Sisters were pilgrims, visiting sites of mystery and intrigue around the Plain, and that the Caravan was due to stop, at their behest, close to the Winding Stone, being a site of standing stones from which evils are said to emerge whenever the stone plinth at its heart pauses in its ceaseless turning. They also know that the elven race was all-but obliterated by a series of deadly plagues hundreds of years ago, plagues which, legend reputes, were delivered to the elven princes by on a fabulous tapestry called the Ashen Cloth.

With all appearances suggesting that the Sisters were killed purely out of racial hatred, the party resolves to follow the attackers into the wilderness (including Jonas, although he seems to have a moment of intense despair upon seeing the murders), and they spend the better part of the day tracking their targets to the south-east. In time, a needle of camp-fire smoke appears on the horizon, and with little cover, the adventurers have few options but to approach in the open.

They come upon a camp of tents with a sputtering fire at the centre. One shadar-kai is on guard; another digs at a nearby patch of earth, filtering the soil through his fingers before giving up and moving to another spot. As he spotes the approaching party, he grabs his weapon and barks a gutteral order in goblin. At his command, other members of the camp emerge: another shadar-kai, and several goblins as well.

Finial orders them to drop their weapons and be judged for the crime of murder, but the scarred and tattooed man facing him simply laughs in his face, making no effort to hide his part in the crime. "There is no justice to be had in this wasteland," he chuckles, an answer which causes the paladin to simply shrug, ready his weapon, and attempt to prove him wrong.

As the parties engage, two large forms pick themselves up from the ground near the fire: shadow mastiffs, massive canines native to the Shadowfell. Jonas creeps into the camp, and in the first tent he finds a trussed-up tiefling, a member of the caravan who the group hasn't had much to do with until now and who seems to have been kidnapped by the shadar-kai. The rogue wastes no time with pleasantries or introductions, and unties the potential ally as quickly as he can, since outside he can hear the low growls of one of the dogs sniffing around near the tent flap.

Meanwhile the other mastiff launches itself like a clawed, furry meteor at Finial, raking his face. He shoves the dog aside and unleashes holy vengeance on the nearest shadar-kai, who grins openly at the prospect of the ensuing pain, but remains unfortunately disappointed as the paladin's attack rolls ineffectively off him.

Nearby, the leader of the enemy band swings his mace in a complex pattern, the whisper of his voice carrying to all: "Can you feel it? Night is falling..." and almost at once a preternatural dusk seems to settle over the battlefield. At the same time two pillars of utter darkness punch down from the heavens, painting a starry nightscape over the landscape beyond, and tracking across the ground as if seeking light and life to snuff out.

Meanwhile Jonas leaves the reluctant tiefling behind and dodges into the second tent, dispatching the goblin cowering within, while Elumai is forced to activate her Shield spell to avoid the effect of a beam of black, soul-quenching power from the nearest shadar-kai. She retaliates by killing two of the goblin servitors with a devastating Thunderwave, as nearby Finial is savaged by the giant dog that still grapples him.

The pillars of night begin to slowly move across the battlefield, but it seems that even those who call the power of the Shadowfell are not immune to its dangers, as the leader of the shadar-kai is forced to dive out of the way. Finial isn't so lucky and the darkness rolls over him, causing thick shadows to descend over his vision; the dark is as deep and complete as any he has experienced, and he is struck blind, giving the nearby shadar-kai ample opportunity to step in and smash the paladin with his mace before he's able to shake off the effect.

Now all of the goblins are killed or incapacitated, and the party is able to turn its full attention on the shadar-kai and their hounds. Jonas darts around the combat zone, doing massive damage with his gladius, while Finial issues forth waves of healing and divine power from near the centre of the fight. Aerello emerges from his tent to support the strangers who have rescued him, cursing his enemies with the power of his distant patron, and there is a moment of sweet irony as the leader of the shadar-kai is blinded by his own pillar of gloom.

From that point the fight quickly turns against the outsiders and is brought to a swift end, neither the shadar-kai nor their pets fighting to anything except the death. With all of their enemies dispatched, the group finds several sacks of goods stolen from the caravan, most of which are personal trinkets and possessions suggesting that many of the people under Shortham's protection are intending to make a new life for themselves in the city, as well as a few gold coins and all of Aerello's gear as well.

Intrigued by the small excavations being undertaken when they arrive, the party scans the surrounding countryside and finds, under small patches of earth on which the grass is subtly discoloured, a selection of marble-sized platinum baubles. Elumai identifies teleportation magic upon them -- perhaps a focus for ultra-long-distance teleportation spells? -- but can't draw a connection between these devices and the elves or shadar-kai. Finally it's Jonas who remembers tales told to him by his old mentor, legends of eladrin raiders from long ago, who were reputed to "explode like devils from the crust of the earth" and viciously attack trade caravans crossing the dangerous wastes of what was then a nascent King's Hand. Certainly this depiction marries with Aerello's recollection of the attack, albeit it was shadar-kai exploding from the earth instead.

Uncertain of the significance of these events, but content in the knowledge of at least one life saved, the party turns their attention to catching up with the caravan. They do so after three days' hard travel. It's much depleted and still stunned in the aftermath of the attack. The Very Unroyal Brigade is reduced to two now, their other members having been killed in what was, by all accounts, a valiant but fruitless defense of the Sisters, but they refuse help from Finial until he has seen to the civilians. Shortham favours one leg, but is otherwise fine; Olak Grentz is alive but has taken a severe beating, and is surprised but gratified at the return of the party, which is carrying goods which he desperately needs in order to re-balance the books.

Ranolph, a young squire who lost his eye while braving the defense, is overjoyed to receive back the money for his prospective commission into the Kingsblade, but morosely informs Jonas that he has no hope of being inducted into the upper ranks of the King's forces now he is disabled. The wily rogue nods in sympathy, offers the young lad a tidy sum, and promptly hires him for purposes of his own.

Ashenport, and what transpired there, isn't brought up by Shortham or anyone else in the caravan, and thus-strengthened by the return of the party, the caravan moves on. As the sun languishes overhead, the open gates of Emerandes, strong and welcoming beneath the glittering emerald spire, finally come into view.

Outside, a veritable town of tents and awnings is the first sight to greet the visitors. Traders ply their wares, and folks familiar with Shortham, of which there seem to be a lot, doff their caps or shake his hand and welcome him back to the city, while dirty children play happily amongst the wheels of the wagons as they roll towards the main gate.

Passing through the massive crystal curtain wall, Shortham is stopped by several members of the watchful Royal Arcana, but he vouches for the everyone under his charge and it seems his word is plenty good enough for the city guard. The broad main thoroughfare of the city is something of a relief as they step onto it, since the piercing and painful glare of the Spire is mitigated by cloth canopies referred to by the locals as "chutes", strung from tall poles sunk into the cobbled streets or attached to buildings overhead.

The company says its goodbyes to the caravan (Shortham barely has time for a word as he makes a multitude of delivery arrangements with several merchants who seem to have been waiting for him to arrive, and Olak is curt as he thanks the company for their assistance), and begins making plans. Their discussions are cut short, however, as the crowd before them swells and parts.

Five eladrin dressed in exquisite armour layered in complex patterns over long white robes stand there, swords and halberds at the ready. One of them, a young and handsome fey of noble disposition, steps forward, a look of utter distaste on his face as he addresses Elumai directly: "Elumai Niastai, on warrant of the Court of Stars and by direct order the Summer Queen, you are under arrest."

Elumai stops, recognition on her face, as the rest of the company ponder this new mystery...

Cradle Plain -- Session 53 -- Sunday 4th July 2010

2010-10-23T10:21:00.000-07:00

Unfortunately there was a technical problem with the digital recorder for this session, and nothing was actually taped. This is bad, because it was July, and I can only remember vaguely what happened. For the sake of brevity I'll reprint what I entered into the Story So Far page:

Session 53 - Bahamut's Flames
In the wake of their victory, the party returns to Ashenport where Finial wreaks stern justice on the complicity of the townsfolk. Amidst evidence of a vicious fight where they left Shortham's caravan, the Sisters of the Ashen Cloth have been cruelly murdered and left on display as a warning to those who follow.

Still kicking

2010-10-13T06:22:00.001-07:00

...Well, apart from being nailed by something akin to Captain Trips for the last few days, but that's another story.

Cradle Plain took a break while we were hoping to play out another campaign for a while, but we'll be warming up the fires again very soon. In the meantime, I have no less than four journals to catch up on (that's sixteen hours of recordings, arithmetic fans) and hope to start that process in the next few days.

So, to all our tenacious followers, we are far from finished. The Heroic Tier was, as they say, just the beginning...

4ed Campaign -- Session 52 -- Sunday 6th June 2010

2010-07-03T09:44:00.000-07:00

In which we discover the innate buoyancy of dwarves, and the otherworldly intelligence behind the call of the sea is brought to account...

Roster (Party Level 10th)
Berend - Dwarven Fighter
Elumai - Eladrin Wizard
Finial - Half-elf Paladin
Jonas - Human Rogue/Ranger

At a barked order from one of the fish-men, three of its underlings retreat into the caves, echoes of their webbed feet disappearing into the darkness. The gibbering mouther continues to approach the party, withstanding everything they throw at it, and then suddenly solidifies into a tall pillar of flesh. All of its mouths open simultaneously and a sickening chorus of screams issues forth, sending the company into a daze and causing the very rock of the cave to deliquesce under Jonas's feet. It flips up, bouncing him down the steep floor of the cave, and freezes into place, the crest of a wave drawn perfectly in stone.

As Jonas lands, he feels a painful tug on his arm and is horrified to see the skin of his fore-arm split open to reveal a tiny, fanged mouth, which erupts out on a pseudopod of his own flesh and clamps down on his wrist. Similar sensations all over his body suggest more mouths are forming, and he looks up at his companions to see them all suffering the same grotesque symptoms.

In the face of such disconcerting attacks, the party renews its assault on the mouther. Finial's flail thuds down into the creature and tears a thatch of spongy flesh from its body; the thing begins to warp and flatten, increasingly unable to hold its shape. As the light of Bahamut shimmers and burns its flesh, it slowly discorporates, disintegrating into a film of rainbow-hued oil which trickles away down the cavern.

At the same time the fish-men who had circled around the party appear at the top of the cavern, but by this point Berend has dealt with those who were attacking from the other end and, being familiar with these enemies, the party makes short work of them.

There is much more of the cavern to explore. Further in, Jonas comes upon a much bigger cave, half submerged in a black, quiet deep. The cave itself is multi-tiered, the stalactite-riddled ceiling reflecting what little light there is in a rippling illumination. Five statues, depicting serpentine monstrosities which seem to writhe in the intermittent light, cluster around a massive obsidian altar, from which the carved head of a gilled snake beast stands sentinel over the cavern. The needle-thin teeth of all of the statues drip continuously with water, which pools on the sandy floor beneath them. The cavern as a whole stinks of a week-old catch left to rot in the sun.

As Jonas looks on, the waters of the pool slide and ripple as a vague shape, only just submerged in the darkness, shifts beneath the surface. Movement beside the altar also catches his eye: it's a woman, dressed in black robes. When she realises she's been seen, she gasps in fear and squeezes herself into a shadowy space beside one of the staues, desperately trying to hide herself. Jonas tries to placate her -- "You've nothing to fear from me..." -- but she doesn't respond to his efforts, cowering with her hand over her face as he approaches.

As the rest of the party moves up, the cavern suddenly comes alive, as several fish-men literally step out of the statues. These are much further from human than the previous creatures the company has faced, and have become little more than a loosely-joined assemblage of coral, shells, seaweed, and the thin bones of dead sea-creatures.

Jonas immediately springs into action, drawing one of the creatures away from the party and leaping up a nearby ledge out of danger. Meanwhile another of the creatures lurches with inhuman purpose towards the party, smashing into Berend and erupting in a foul green gas which clings to the party's skin, slowly calcifying their flesh.

At this point the thing beneath the water rises up, a horror as grotesque as the gibbering mouther but several times larger, meaty plasticine globs of flesh connected by thin tendon-like strands which bulge and subsume each-other in continuous death and rebirth. The air warps as it attacks.

The party focuses its attention on the abominable fish-men, blasting, hacking and melting the shells from their bodies. One of them backs away, lowers its shoulders and an eruption of seaweed whips out towards Berend, clutching at his armour and squeezing the life out of him while pulling him towards the edge of the water. As it does so, the warping tentacles of the aberration flick out towards the dwarf, their tips detaching and splatting onto him. Immediately, his reality begins to tilt; shapes writhe and snap at him from the corners of his vision, and faces leer at him from behind his blinking eyelids.

Jonas continues to attack from the shadows, darting out to deal telling strikes to his foes, and taking several cuts to the face for his troubles. Both Jonas and Finial notice something odd about the master aberration, almost as if its attacks are on a repeating loop, but this doesn't stop it suddenly unleashing its call upon Berend, whose mind, filled with the ululating scream of distant realms, urges his limbs into unwilling motion. The dwarf steps onto the edge of the beach and vanishes with a splash into the water, driving down with powerful strokes towards the far corner of the lake. The aberration launches a hail of fleshy bolts at him as he goes, but they splatter and sizzle harmlessly on the surface of the water as he submerges.

Meanwhile two the fish-men step back into the statues and reappear surrounding Elumai, plunging their coral tridents into the mage and dealing her serious injury. In response she unleashes Thunder Wave, launching one of the creatures into the water where it sinks out of sight, but the next blow sends her to the floor, unconscious. Finial, struggling to get control of the fight and protect her, unleashes the power of Bahamut, cutting a huge chunk from the nearest fish-man and bringing his friend back from the brink.

The company's efforts start to tell on the remaining fish-men. Jonas strikes from a good vantage, tempting one of the creatures into a futile chase. Finial is suddenly assaulted by the call of Dagon, and finds himself helpless to do anything except walk off the edge of the precipice and into the pool... but this frees Berend, who not having had the opportunity to make much of an impact thus far, erupts in furious anger from the waters of the pool and brings his axe down on the aberration that has controlled him for so long. It strikes a great swathe from the creature's flesh, which oozes oily blood.

As another of the fish-men falls to Jonas' blade, the party turns its complete attention to the aberration. Finial musters his inner will and shakes off the call, emerging from the waters to bring his own attacks to bear. The creature shudders under the assault, globs of doughy flesh sloughing off under the attack, until eventually it's nothing more than a thin layer of oily particulate floating on the surface, all semblance of life snuffed out.

4ed Campaign -- Session 51 -- Sunday 30th May 2010

2010-06-02T04:58:00.001-07:00

In which the children of Dagon bring the wrath of their master to the company, and deep in the dark, the true nature of the forces behind Ashenport's curse is discovered...

Roster (Party Level 10th)
Berend - Dwarven Fighter
Elumai - Eladrin Wizard
Finial - Half-elf Paladin
Jonas - Human Rogue/Ranger

Emitting a lifeless, inhuman groan from the pits of whatever passes for their stomachs, the creatures attack. As the rain begins to pour in sheets as heavy as hail, they emerge from the encroaching gloom in quick, darting strides, clearly as comfortable out of the water as in it.

Pulling rusted rapiers off their backs, they slice at Finial while Elumai prepares to unleash flame. The jagged weapons score his flesh, leaving tiny pieces of metal embedded in the wound which immediately begin to fester, but Elumai erupts into a raging inferno, setting most of the fish-men alight with a smell like fish guts roasting on a camp-fire.

Jonas leaps around the edge of the fight and takes a slice out of one of the enemies flanking Finial, but as he does so a massive tsunami bulges out of the stormy seas, crashing with bone-crushing force on the rogue and sending him sprawling up the beach. As the foamy waters recede, he realises that his legs are entangled in thick, grey-green fronds of seaweed reaching out of the waters like thin fingers... which immediately go taut, dragging him across the pebbles towards the water's edge.

In the main melee, blade, tooth and claw flash in the sheets of lightning playing across the sky. The fish-men are brutal foes, with few tricks other than a keen sense of teamwork and sharp blades, but they are slowly beaten down by the company.

Another massive breaker streaks down the length of a nearby jetty and grabs Elumai, dragging her into the water. She struggles to free herself but it's Jonas, who has extricated himself from his own prison, who leaps into the water and hacks at the seaweed in order to free her. The bulbous knuckles of the stuff split and ooze milky liquid into the water, and Jonas's blade quickly does the job. The seaweed thrashes in apparent pain for a moment before receding into the murky seas, leaving a trail of white fluids behind it.

As the two companions emerge, they find their friends victorious on the bloodied, pebbly beach. They make quick council and decide that they should try to track the seaweed fronds to their source. With a ritual of Water Breathing already in place, they plunge into the ferocious seas and, after two hours of careful, exhausting swimming, they emerge onto a small sandy beach a mile down the coastline. The sand is furrowed with glistening trails, as if the seaweed has dragged itself up the beach, heading towards a small, dark cave like an open mouth at the base of a monolithic cliff face stretc

As Jonas scouts the entrance, the company is once-again attacked, this time by a half-crustacean humanoid, who explodes out of the nearby seas with unchecked ferocity. With a massive leap, he makes straight for Jonas, who is clinging to the rock-face above the cave entrance, and swipes at him with two keen pincer-like hands. The rogue responds with a devestating blow, sending the creature flying from the rock-face to land with a bone-crunching thud on the sand below.

The company converges on it. Its long antennae whip from person to person, and suddenly their minds are playing tricks on them, friend becoming foe, and foe becoming friend. Berend, convinced he is defending himself, dents Finial's armour with a crushing blow, then finds himself fleeing in fear, into the cave entrance where he inadvertantly trips a well-placed trap. A loud GONG! sounds throughout the deeper caves, and a column of sticky unguent pours down on his head, sticking him fast to the ground even as he regains his senses.

Elumai, who has been attacking from a safe distance, and Jonas, who has been circling for another opportunity, suddenly find the sand around their feet liquefying, and they're already stuck fast up to their ankles and sinking rapidly before they have a chance to save themselves. Meanwhile the monstrosity is smashing Finial, pincers seeking to free him from the confines of his armor, but the paladin is more than up to the task of defending himself, and his weapons liberate great shards of exo-skeleton from the beast, its soft flesh more and more vulnerable to attack. The beast has little more opportunity to make an impression from this point, gradually broken and defeated by the combined might of the party.

Despite the sounding of the alarm, there is no further activity from the cave. The tunnel beyond has a sandy floor, but is cold and dark; the party strikes up a sunrod, and investigates a cavernous offshoot. The walls and floor of the chamber undulate with a smooth, glassy surface, almost like black ice, and the cave descends sharply down. They toss the sunrod down to the bottom of the cave... and illuminate new enemies, several of the fish-men lurking at the bottom, and something else...

The other creature is a grotesque agglomeration of plasticine flesh and toothy, gasping mouths... a gibbering mouther! As they watch, it not-so-much turns as bulges in their direction, undulating across the smooth rock floor and up the sloping cave towards them. The fish-men take the opportunity -- without much success -- to launch serrated javelins at the company, who instead largely ignore them and decide to focus everything they have on the beast. As the creature sinuates its way towards them, it's subjected to a brutal wave of magic and blade, but still manages to lash out a toothy pseudopod at Jonas as he darts in for an attack.

The mouther closes to just a few feet away from the party, the true aberrant terror of the creature still to be felt...

4ed Campaign -- Session 50 -- Sunday 23rd May 2010

2010-05-28T05:11:00.000-07:00

In which the Cannith brothers are not entirely denied their prize (albeit at the cost of a spot of family trouble), an old ranger reaches the limit of his patience, and a grizzly pact comes to light in Ashenport...

Roster (Party Level 10th)
Berend - Dwarven Fighter
Elumai - Eladrin Wizard
Finial - Half-elf Paladin
Jonas - Human Rogue/Ranger

In the aftermath of the fight, the party takes the time to search out the rest of the forge and comes across Jelia in a hidden workshop, sweating over a grinding wheel, sharpening some kind of thin dagger or other implement which Jonas takes great delight in pilfering. Faced once again with the party, she tries to dissuade them from destroying the forge entirely, and ultimately succeeds.

Elsewhere, the company discovers the hobgoblin barracks, a filthy pit of a room which has been all-but abandoned, and a larger workshop, where a giant mechanical golem appears to be under construction, a wooden scaffold leaning drunkenly against its body. Elumai helps herself to a few of the choicer gears and mechanisms from the 20-foot monster, and recovers a handful of residuum which, by all appearances, was bing used as lubricant for the more delicate workings.

Outside, they find that the Cannith brothers have already arrived, and in fact have made camp at the bottom of the scree slope. Tendrils of smoke curl from thin metal chimneys atop both of the wagons, but there is no other sign of the brothers other than their butlers, roasting a siazble joint of pork on an open camp fire.

Jonas sneaks down to the wagons and lays low, helping himself to strips of meat while the others make good their escape, traversing along the top of the slope towards the hidden spot where they tethered their animals. Their exit is far from stealthy, and although one of the butlers seems to notice them, he makes no effort to tell his employer, so Jonas settles in for the night, eager to see what will transpire between the brothers and their cousin.

Come morning, the Cannith brothers and their entourage pick their way comically up the slope and venture into the complex, followed by Jonas. They shriek excitedly over every find they make (or at least, whatever has been left in one piece in the wake of the party's adventures there), eventually making their way down to the forge itself, where they wail in dismay at finding Calmachia in pieces.

Jelia, when she appears, receives the full brunt of Parcival's outrage, his chest pumped to bursting as he lambasts her for stealing his research. His cousin is unimpressed, and assures him that Haestus's work was much more complete -- and much more dangerous -- than they gave it credit for. Jonas reveals himself at this point, long enough to taunt the Cannith's about their failure, but in the end leaves them to their own devices.

The party returns to the Shortham's corral, where they spend the rest of the day recuperating. The following morning, only one of the Canniths returns -- Theruk -- who immediately holds conference with Banks and the Very Unroyal Brigade. Before departing, Shortham delivers a short speech, the assembled throng looking nervously at each-other in the face of this apparently uncharacteristic display.

"There's villainy and thievery in my caravan, and I won't stand for it! Should this go on, we'll root out these wrong-doers, leave 'em high and handsome out here in the wilderness, and I can assure you, as I stand here this-mornin', that we won't hear hide, nor hair, o'them again!"
-- Shortham Banks, to those under his charge in the wilderness between Crow's Atoll and Emerandes

Several suspicious looks fall upon the party at this, but only Jonas knows exactly what is being talked about. Unable to help himself, he even tries to persuade the Very Unroyal guard who has been stationed with the Canniths to let him in to see Theruk, but the man on duty is implacable and refuses him entry.

At last the caravan continues on its way. The two days onward to its next stop proceed uneventfully except for the weather, which takes a nasty turn for the worse, the sky clogging with inky clouds promising rain. By the time Shortham has made camp, they've made good on it.

The party learns that Banks's son, Dorian, and two of the Very Unroyals will be taking a wagon of exotic goods (spices and fishing nets, by the looks) for sale at Ashenport's trade fair. Finial, who finds himself in dire need of a blacksmith to forge a new weapon he has in mind, persuades his friends that the diversion could be useful. However, the trip along muddy, sodden roads, which become gradually more disinclined to let the wagon pass as the day wears on, even pulled by two of Wilder's best horses, is one to forget (as are Dorian's lude advances towards Elumai).

Eventually the travellers emerge from a thick copse of trees onto the edge of a tall cliff-face. To the east, the vast expanse of the Windward Sea, a great inland lake known for its oceanic moods, is all-but hidden by a wall of low-lying fog and the curtain of rain falling ruler-straight from the clouds above. Perched on its shores in the shadow of the cliff lies Ashenport, which from up here is little more than a carpet of badly-shingled rooves like a shell over the town.

A winding path leads down into a town which seems to have all but hidden itself from the storm. Faded banners flap too and fro in the storm, some of them streaming wildly into the wind, and the main road, leading from the town gate towards some sort of fenced-off grove in the town square, is a river of mud. The rain beats mercilessly on the rooves all around, gushing out of unkempt guttering and splattering down into the road from every corner.

A passing local, huddled against the downpour, points them in the direction of the Smooth Sailing Inn, and leaving Dorian to stable the horses and secure the wagon, the company goes in. It's welcoming enough, and seems to be made of three smaller buildings from which the walls have been haphazardly knocked out. The barman, a fat, bejoweled and stubbly local, is unhelpful, but points Elumai in the direction of one of the waiters, who tells her that the trade fair looks like it's going to be a bit of a bust, with the weather keeping almost everyone away. He does point at a corner table, however, where a few other patrons -- clearly out-of-towners, by their clothes -- sit having a few quiet drinks.

While the others mingle, Jonas decides to scout the town. He finds not a soul in the streets. The blacksmith, absent from the cold, disused forge they found earlier, is still nowhere to befound. An old woman, peering at Jonas through a crack in her front door, tells him the blacksmith is "on his rounds", and seems unwilling to elaborate ("What am I, his mother?"). Down at the docks, the fishing boats rock crazily in the swells, untended and not likely to survive the night.

Back at the inn, the party has struck up conversation with three other merchants: Terza, from the Court of Coin, here to establish more permanent contracts with the town council; Matthias Creel, a member of the Free Traders' Association and no friend of the Court; and Jandal, a jeweler from across the Windward Sea hoping to make a name for himself at the fair. Talk revolves pretty much around one subject: the fact that they've probably had a wasted trip. As Berend, with ease, drinks Matthias under the table, life in the tavern winds down for the night.

But not for long. As the company retire to their rooms, a great, swelling song begins to fill the air. The sound of the rain seems to recede to make way for it, a high, keening lament, the sound of a mother pining for her lost children, the sound of men gasping for their lives as they drown at sea, the sound of a tsunami smashing onto a crowded shore... it fills the heads of everyone in the party, most of whom shake it off, except for Berend, who joins the other merchants as they emerge from their rooms, and begin to walk downstairs, intent on getting out of the inn and finding the sea.

Between them, however, his friends have no trouble rousing Berend from his stupour, and they corral the other enthralled folks -- none of the townsfolk seem to be affected -- into the basement of the inn, sealing them safely inside. It's about that time when Jonas, who had decided to sequester himself on the roof of the inn to observe the town at night, hears the sounds of a dozen doors opening, and the townsfolk pour into the street, their faces blank as they slosh through the mud in their nightclothes. Curious, he decides to follow.

They walk to the shoreline and out onto the jetties. Behind him, the rest of the party are desperately waking as many of them as they can, but the man in lead simply steps off the jetty into disappears beneath the foamy waters. Jonas jumps in after him, and watches him float serenely down to the bottom with a smile on his face. Under the water, the song is suddenly ten times as loud as in the air, but Jonas resists its allure.

Above, the company has succeeded in rousing everyone else. They huddle around the adventurers, clutching at each-other in the pouring rain. Finial, however, is suddenly unimpressed. The processing of "waking" them from their stupour didn't ring entirely true with him, almost as if this was an act in which they were being made the fools. He confronts the nearest local, a woman whose sodden black hair clings to her face, and rousing the voice of Bahamut, demands to know the truth.

Suddenly afraid, she throws herself at his feet, begging to be saved from "the call". In her rantings, she says that the town has made promises which must be kept in order for their good fortune to continue, promises which require a sacrifice of blood in order to be sealed. Her act is a good one, but Finial's instincts tell him otherwise, and he kicks the woman away. She hisses at him from the pebbly shore: "Interlopers! Heathens! Your fate will be the same!"

The townspeople scatter like cockroaches into the murk, but before the party can follow, a wet, threatening groan cuts through the atmosphere, and they turn to see several tall figures lurching from the breakers at the water's edge. Dragging thick seaweed behind them, the creatures are a disgusting mix of fish and man, with thick scaly skin and pale white torso's, black eyes staring from the sides of their heads, and mouths like cracks in their faces, full of needle-like teeth.

The aberrations heave themselves onto the beach, and the party prepares to defend itself...

4ed Campaign -- Session 49 -- Sunday 25th April 2010

2010-05-12T04:21:00.000-07:00

In which two prisoners is two too many, and the dragon-queen of the Forbidden Forge finally gets to meet her maker...

Roster (Party Level 10th)
Berend - Dwarven Fighter
Elumai - Eladrin Wizard
Finial - Half-elf Paladin
Jonas - Human Rogue/Ranger

Jelia's keeper, the hobgoblin Bladebearer Valsath, who has made his own deal with Calmachia, makes his move on the party as they rest following their exertions earlier that day. He brings what's left of his payroll to bear, including two flail-wielding bugbears, a hobgoblin bard whose discordant hymns unsettle the senses of his enemies, and several of his front-line warriors.

The company is awakened by sounds of the bugbears smashing down the door to Jelia's recluse. They form a defensive line at the door and are held there while Jonas slips past and leaps over the pool of molten metal to gain a distant advantage. He's pursued by several mercenaries, but whether through inattentiveness or because they simply haven't been told, they fall through the catwalk trap and plunge to an immolated doom below. Jonas sets about dispatching what's left of that force.

Jelia hides out of sight, perhaps afraid that Valsath will focus on her if given the chance, and although the hobgoblin and his compatriots fight ferociously to protect their claim on the fortunes of the forge, they are hard pressed to achieve victory. The party is bloodied, but the mercenaries are squeezed into defeat in the confined combat.

Valsath himself trakes tremendous punishment before finally succumbing to his better sense and offering surrender, but the party is taking no chances, and continues to pummel him into submission.

"Boys, boys! I've surrendered! There's no need for--"
-- Valsath, just before being smashed in the face by Berend.

Jelia distracts the party and tries to take the opportunity to finish the hobgoblin off, but she's frustrated by the ephemeral force which prevents her from leaving the lower level of the forge, and so settles for a bargain with the party that when they interrogate him, they'll make him beg for his life, just once or twice.

Jelia stands by with an amused smirk as Valsath awakes, struggles with his bonds, and realises what trouble he's in. The party asks whether feeding him to Calmachia will help or hinder their efforts, but he just spits at Jelia and sneers at them.

"It's real easy. You want the secrets to the forge? Feed that bitch to the dragon. She thought she could waltz in, flick a few switches, mutter a few incantations, and walk out with an army of warforged behind her... sell it to the highest bidder. She hired me, but the dragon made me a better offer. Made me promises I think she could have made good on... a new dawn for the Bladebearers, everyone else marching to my tune..."
-- Valsath, under interrogation in the Creation Forge.

Valsath explains that Calmachia is busying herself creating dragon-like "children", and that those without dragon-blood are impure and fit only to die. He is pragmatic about his future, and quick to admit defeat at the hands of the company. The party seems about to release him, but Jelia is not so forgiving, and once again lunges for the hobgoblin, leaving the party no choice but to defend the Bladebearer from the artificer. "What are you doing?" she screams. "If you're all too feeble for the deed, I'll do it for you!"

Chaos spreads. Valsath is soon dead by Jonas's hands, and Jelia finds herself in the sights of his crossbow, arguing for her life. It's Elumai, however, who loses patience with her, and unleashes magic intending to take her out of the picture before she can cause any more trouble. Defended by her iron cobra, Jelia makes a break for the deeper rooms of the Forge, and the party decides simply to let her go, although the construct is not so lucky, giving its life so that its master can escape.

The room to which Jelia fled turns out to be a laboratory, of sorts, with the company looking down from a catwalk which runs around the perimeter. There's evidence that Valsath and his men have used it as a berth, with loose blankets and assorted junk lying around the place. Assorted arcane contraptions, some of them animated, some of them being tended to by small, wheeled constructs flitting to and fro, stand bubbling and wheezing in the room below. On the opposite catwalk, two double doors stand slightly ajar, and a ruddy light emanates from within.

Elumai immediately sets to understanding the devices and within a few minutes, discovers that they have the capability (and remaining alchemical reagents) to imbue one weapon and one suit of armour with powerful new abilities. The company considers it worth the risk to take the time to activate these boons, and luckily they are left undisturbed.

When they eventually push-on, they find a dimly lit room, clearly the forge itself. In the center of the room is a large half-sphere with a surface of what looks like undulating basalt and a flat glass frontage smeared with ash. The interior floor of the forge is carpeted with black and gray coals, the very heart of which is smouldering like the embers of a campfire. However all of this pales next to the huge metallic dragon curled up on top of the forge, its tail swishing lazily back and forth, it's huge needle-toothed maw nestled in its claws and looking straight at Jonas as he peeks inside the door.

He gestures for the rest of the party to approach, but the dragon speaks in a metallic, and distinctly female voice. "I can't hear you if you whisper in the shadows! Come inside, and let us talk. I have no quarrel with you. I will live for centuries in the greatness of my forge, and though you may have killed my children, thousands more will arise to take their place. Come, let us discuss your futures..."

The party has no patience for such discussions, however, and sees only a future in which they stand victorious over Calmachia's shattered corpse. "No, we fight!" declares Finial, and leaps to the attack.

Calmachia rises to her full height, fanning her wings and filling almost the entire room, while the forge begins to pulse in sympathy. Jonas jumps and leaps at her throat, tearing at the machinery of the dragon, but the damage causes some kind of feedback which blows him onto his backside in an explosion of static blue light. Elumai's freezing cloud cakes both the dragon and the forge in ice, which almost immediately begins to melt and run into rivulets down the side of the device.

Berend charges into the creature, smashing his axe into her flank and sending a spray of metallic shards and red, rubber-like tissue into the air. Calmachia rears around on Berend, and rasps "Obey!" at the dwarf, who is immediately filled with nothing but the desire to please his new mistress. Metal scraping on metal, she launches herself into the air above the party, the downdraft from her wings beating onto the heads of the company, and unleashes her breath onto Finial and Jonas. The air seems to fracture, sending splintered shards of force into their flesh, and blowing them painfully back into the walls of the forge. In answer, Finial calls down Bahamut's wrath, burning Calmachia from within whenever she attacks the party.

At this point, the glass front of the forge splits and rotates inward. Two malformed drakes, barely alive and mewing pathetically, heave themselves from the coals and into the fray. The dragon roars and shakes its head as Elumai's phantasmal force sends it into a panic, unleashing another breath weapon which sends Jonas stumbling backwards... into the forge. The glass front slides shut, trapping him.

Focusing on Finial, she bites down on him, picking up the paladin in her huge mouth, snapping her neck around and spinning him haplessly over the top of the forge, leaving a trail of blood through the air.

By this time the company has done huge damage to the machinery of Calmachia's body, and it starts to take its toll. Even powered-down, the forge builds more drakelings quickly but in their half-formed state they are largely ineffective against the mobile company. Jonas cuts his way out of the forge and brings his blade to bear, while Elumai maintains her assault on the dragon's mind causing it to literally attack itself, ripping a knot of complex gears from her own back.

"The claws of Arkhosia will sweep away your nations!" she promises, defending herself desperately against renewed assaults and attempting to grab Finial again, but her movements cause jets of murky liquid to spill from various wounds and the paladin easily smashes her attack away. The dragon attempts to take to the air again but is simply too weak. and she falls beneath the magic and weapons of the party.

4ed Campaign -- Session 48 -- Sunday 18th April

2010-05-07T04:54:00.000-07:00

In which Elumai and Berend defy the ghost in the machine, Jonas develops a new appreciation for the rat in the drainpipe, and Jelia d'Cannith reveals her intentions...

Roster (Party Level 9th)
Berend - Dwarven Fighter
Elumai - Eladrin Wizard
Finial - Half-elf Paladin
Jonas - Human Rogue/Ranger

The fight has now been reduced to a few hobgoblin warriors which, without Haestus around to back them up, are soon dispatched. The party takes a few moments before heading forward, turning to the south and coming to what looks like a control room of some sort.

The hair on their bodies stands to attention as they open the door. Inside, the room is tall, with spherical electrodes dangling from the roof. Crackling arcs of blue electricity spit and fizz between them, electrifying the very air. The walls are busy with arcane controls and read-outs, from simple levers to complex contraptions which snake their way across the room before snapping back into position.

Berend volunteers for the dangerous job of reaching the master terminal at the other end of the room. Beard crackling with static, he clambers up above the electrodes and makes his way carefully across the ceiling, losing his footing more than once but making it unbloodied to the other side. There, he finds a control rod with a single signet ring on it... and the simple act of removing the ring seems to deactivate the security.

Elumai and Berend busy themselves deciphering the machine, concluding that it quite probably controls a powerful mechanism deeper in the complex, perhaps even ths "Creation Forge" itself. While they attempt to disable it, Jonas heads off to investigate a nearby door.

It appears to be a simple store-room, with floor-to-ceiling rows of metal cabinets, all shut and padlocked. In a far corner, flickering candle-light throws onto the wall the shadow of someone working at a table, and there are other signs of movement deeper in the room and out of sight. Jonas creeps forward, and the head of what looks like a metallic snake peers around the corner, its steel tongue flicking in and out as it tastes the air. Behind it, in a small antechamber, Jonas can make out the shape of someone -- possibly female -- sitting at a desk.

As the snake coils itself back out of sight, he continues to move, spotting a dormant or sleeping forge drake resting in a far, dark corner of the room. However, it's at this point that his luck, which has already been teetering on the brink, finally lets him down, and the snake darts back out of the room and, fanning its cowl, looms over him. From behind it, a tall eladrin woman, dressed in almost ceremonial leather armour, festooned with strange looking tools, steps into view and observes the ensuing melee with curiosity. The forge drake also unfolds its wings and roars at the rogue, which, together with the snake's loud, resonant hissing alerts the rest of the team that something might have gone very wrong. Jonas's desperate cry for help removes all doubt, and they run to assist.

As his enemies close in on him, Jonas leaps aside from the stabbing fangs of the snake, leaps over the drake, and darts between the tall cabinets and out of sight. The drake cranes its head into the shadows, its red eyes scanning the darkness like baleful searchlights, but its efforts are frustrated enough to give Jonas the chance to heave at one of the rows of cabinets. With a massive effort, he pushes it over, trapping the drake, which screeches and claws at the metal as it tries to free itself.

His friends arrive to defend him, and Finial entreats the eladrin woman to call off her pets and parlay. His words carry all of the ferocious weight of his faith, and she orders her constructs to retreat. Jonas, however, has established something of an enmity with the dragon, and it ignores the command, biting down on him.

The rest of the company parlay with the woman, who asks if they're working for her "idiot cousins", strongly implying that this is in fact Jelia. Although she recalls the snake, she allows the melee with Jonas to continue, bluffing that she doesn't have control of the drakes, which gives Jonas the opportunity to dispatch the creature.

As the room calms, Jelia enquires as to the party's intentions and a conversation ensues. They are distrustful of her, and not averse to saying so, but she does reveal that she and her cousins had researched the location of the Creation Forge in the hope of re-igniting the fortunes of House Cannith, after Haestus d'Cannith had all-but bankrupted the family. He had spent so much, they reasoned, that it must have bought *something*.

Unfortunately they underestimated Haestus's brilliance and awoke Calmachia -- a huge dragon construct -- only to find themselves in thrall to the creature. Jelia has been a prisoner ever since. As far as she knows, Valsath, leader of the Bladebearer mercenaries she hired as bodyguards for the trip, has brokered a deal with the dragon and they're working towards some common goal.

There are some inconsistencies to the story, but Jelia proves she cannot physically leave the confines of the forge. The company decides to rest where they are, and push on in the morning.

Unforutnately, Valsath has other plans...

4ed Campaign -- Session 47 -- Monday 5th April

2010-05-01T06:46:00.000-07:00

In which a convenient record of Kelia's expedition is left for all to find, Haestus reveals the true meaning of contempt, and the children of the Forge attack...

Roster (Party Level 9th)
Berend - Dwarven Fighter
Elumai - Eladrin Wizard
Finial - Half-elf Paladin
Jonas - Human Rogue/Ranger

Haestus d'Cannith strolls around the room, appearing most put out that his ghostly hands can't busy themselves cleaning up this mess. He reveals himself as the overseer, architect, and financier of this secret project, and knows Jelia by name, grudgingly admitting that he is happy that some distant splinter of the family has uncovered the forge and is showing some of the resourcefulness he is renowned for.

Jonas tells him that Parcival and Theruk are on their way, but Haestus can't imagine any of the good side of the family with such ignoble names, and is unimpressed with the banter. When pressed, he admits that both he and the other skeletons in the room died in a dreadful accident but boasts that his contingencies, obviously, worked well.

Jonas spots a golden signet ring amongst the rubble that looks remarkably like the jewelry on the apparition's fingers, and much to Haestus's disapproval, picks it up. "Outrageous!" yells the wraith, but when the ring is removed from the burned, bony finger on which it is found, the ghost fades into nothingness.

Within a small antechamber, the company finds a writing table. On it are a lit candle, a vial of ink and a quill, and what looks like a diary, full of sappy entries discussing the complexities of teenaged love going back months and months. Elumai recognises a magical glyph of concealment on the cover, which will be masking the true content of the book, and deploys a successful Dispel Magic to reveal the diary as a record of the expedition to the forge, written by someone called Marus. It appears Marus was hired by Jelia to oversee the Bladebearer hobgoblins she brought on as necessary muscle in the fulfilment of her mission.

Other information from the record indicating that Haestus was considered something of an eccentric when he was alive, ploughing vast amounts of the family fortune into inane projects. However, it appears that he enjoyed some success in uncovering the secrets of the warforged and built this "creation forge" with the help of someone going by the name of Calmachia.

Pushing on, the party heads deeper into the complex, passing through a dark gauntlet of traps and falling foul to some of them, including razor-sharp mesh strung across the corridor designed to entwine the unwary. At the end of this lengthy descent is a large room with a metal catwalk suspended over a sea of molten metal, emitting heat and light which is almost unbearable.

On an opposite catwalk, small dragon-like constructs crouch ready for action, observing the party as they enter, but making no immediate moves to attack, and alongside them several armoured hobgoblins stand on guard. None of them appear aware of Jonas as he observes the room.

Elumai performs a ritual to protect everyone from the heat, and they begin to advance ... whereupon, unsurprisingly, the guards spring immediately to alert. The dragons launch themselves with great, lolloping wing-beats across the room, flying over the heads of the adventurers and slamming down into the corridor behind them, while the hobgoblins pelt the company with crossbows from the far side. Crossbow bolts ping from the walkway and drop towards the molten metal... but are caught by an almost imperceptibly thin net strung across the room, on which they begin to smolder before erupting into flame from the heat.

The dragons, having maneuvered behind the party, unleash powerful breath weapons, warping the air with magical force which blows the company backwards towards the edge. Finial loses balance and tumbles over the edge, but clings on by his fingertips and hauls himself back up, however Elumai is not so lucky, tumbling down onto the net and immediately starting to bake in the heat.

Jonas retreats from the dragons in order to engage the hobgoblins, but falls foul of a devious trap as the middle section of the catwalk swings out from under his feet. His reflexes however are just too good, and he grasps the edge of the walkway, his feet dangling over the molten pool below. At this point an echoing cackle reverberates through the burning atmosphere as Haestus once more rises up out of the lava, laughing in amusement at the Jonas's plight. Finial senses that he has brought some friends with him, ethereal minions which are moving through the walls and preparing to attack.

Finial's flail rips the head from one of the dragons and the construct collapses in a fizzing heap to the ground, electricity arcing across its body, but falls foul of the other creature's breath and is launched off the edge of the catwalk. Haestus takes great delight in this, launching bolts of energy at the company as they flounder below, desperately climbing up ladders on the far side of the room in order to regroup. The architect's wraith minions emerge from the walls to engulf the party, erupting with explosive force when killed and battering the already-assailed adventurers.

Jonas meanwhile focuses his attention elsewhere, clambering back up onto the walkway and with a defiant shout, hand-springing off the ledge towards a wide-eyed Haestus and scoring his gladius through the ghost's flesh. He plummets to the net below with a manic chuckle.

"And I though insanity only ran in my family!"
-- Haestus to Jonas in the Creation Forge.

Along with a sustained assault from the rest of the party, this is quite enough for Haestus. "I can see I'm going to have to give this much more thought!" he mutters, and ascends into the ceiling and out of sight...

4ed Campaign -- Session 46 -- Sunday 28th March

2010-04-25T11:00:00.000-07:00

In which the only good hobgoblin is a dead hobgoblin, the architect of the Creation Forge is revealed, and Jonas happens upon an excellent method of uncovering hidden traps...

Roster (Party Level 9th)
Berend - Dwarven Fighter
Elumai - Eladrin Wizard
Finial - Half-elf Paladin
Jonas - Human Rogue/Ranger

As the caravan halts for its scheduled stop and the Cannith brothers begin to make preparations for moving out, the company persuades Wilder to lend them three more of his best horses, and rides out, following from Jonas's memory the map into the Rowenoaks.

After a morning's hard ride along a route designed to hide their destination from anyone in the caravan, they've passed through several miles of uninviting plain, gradually giving way to a series of dry, grey foothills carpeted in shale. Even from memory, the map is not hard to follow, and the terrain leads them to the remnants of a small camp in the shadow of a steep hillside. The embers are warm, and there is clear evidence of a dozen or so booted humanoid feet milling around the camp and heading towards a dark cave half-way up the hill.

A treacherous climb leads the company to the cave mouth, which is a great yawning crack on a ledge in the hillside, with large boulders and shattered rubble strewn all around. The cave within is lit by torches mounted on metal poles and stabbed into the gravelly earth, and dotted with tall boulders as far back as the eye can see. Jonas creeps in, and almost immediately spots a couple of hobgoblin guards lounging about. Despite not paying much attention, Jonas uncharacteristically gives himself away, and the armoured guards immediately raise the alarm and call for help.

The guards are well trained, moving into penetrating defensive formations and unleashing great, cleaving blows on the company. However, despite help arriving from a tunnel towards the rear of the cave, the defense is overrun, and only one of the guards survives to make a desperate lunge for daylight, tumbling down the scree slope and running for his life. Several of the more athletic members of the party run him down, however, and is afforded only a brief moment of defiance before being cut down. The company learns little from the battle except that this is a group of mercenaries called the "Bladebearers".

Pushing through the cave, Jonas almost falls foul of a powerful arcane trap left to defend the entrance, but shrugs off the scorch marks to see that the rough tunnel emerges into a well-built inner chamber, its west wall blown open to allow ingress from outside. Several constructs, reminiscent of the warforged they discovered under Crow's Atoll but humanoid rather than dragonborn, stand silent vigil in the room, their fleshy inner workings open and exposed as if impromptu surgery has been performed on them, and their red eyes bathing the place in a lurid glow. In the middle of the room, topped by a red gem which pulses in time with the glow from the eyes of the warforged, a strange glyph-painted machine of metal and stone stands sentinel.

Jonas sneaks in and is enamoured with the gem, but when he climbs to the top of the device and touches it, the constructs lurch somewhat unsurprisingly to life and. From two adjoining rooms, more of the creatures emerge to attack, one of them dragging its severed upper-body along the floor in a desperate bid to do harm to Berend.

"Mother! Mother, damage thresholds have been exceeded. Mother... help..."
-- One of the warforged experiments in the Forbidden Forge.

While the defenders keep the attack from the main body of the party, Jonas and Elumai work to disable the machine, but in the end the assault is dispatched less by wit and more by brute force. The sounded of booted, marching feet from a north door suggests they head south, and Jonas creeps ahead to find his path blocked by a closed and locked door, its wooden panels burned and charred, but only superficially, the unharmed wood clearly visible underneath.

Sneaking a look inside, he sees a grand octagonal foyer with its entire south-east wall charred and crumpled inward, and its floor scattered with rubble and bones. Jonas's keen eyes pick out small metal spouts jutting out from the cracked walls around the entire circumference, and beneath the dust on the floor, a complex mosaic that was once skilfully applied: it is the sigil of House Cannith, writ large for all to see.

Once the others have caught him up, they creep into the room to have a look around, but upon disturbing some of the bones -- which, Elumai spots, are inscribed with runes of binding, designed to subordinate creatures to someone else's will -- a pale blue light fills the room as the ghostly apparition of an old man rises theatrically from the center of the floor. His clothes would once have been expensive, a patchwork of silks and fabrics, some of them embroidered with the mark of House Cannith, and his long hair flows behind his head. Where his heart and eyes would be, there are now artful rosettes of blue fire.

He opens his eyes and looks around at the party. "More visitors," he sighs. "Am I to get anything finished today? There is important work to be done!" Jonas attempts to convince the apparition that he is an emissary from the "Court of Shadows", and insists that whatever this "work" is, it must stop, however the ghostly figure is unimpressed, having never heard of this "Court". He does however reveal himself to be Haestus d'Cannith, one of the oldest patrons of the Cannith family.

"What kind of institution would pedal its influence, and yet no-one would have heard of them? I could not travel five leagues without meeting someone who speaks the name of Cannith with the reverance befitting such a storied House."
-- Haestus d'Cannith, to Jonas in the Grand Foyer of the Creation Forge

Haestus is dismayed to hear that two of his descendents have discovered the location of the Forge and are on their way here right now, and as he investigates the ruinous remains of the once-splendid foyer, the party contemplates their next move...

4ed Campaign -- Session 45 -- Sunday 21st March

2010-04-09T01:55:00.000-07:00

In which bad news travels fast, the company sets out to the east, and Jonas heads for trouble.

Roster (Party Level 9th)
Berend - Dwarven Fighter
Elumai - Eladrin Wizard
Finial - Half-elf Paladin
Jonas - Human Rogue/Ranger

After completing their mission at Pargsmeer house, the time at last arrives for the company to move on towards Emerandes, where at least one of their number, Elumai, has a pressing engagement. Also, as the renowned center of knowledge and learning on the Plain, it is the most likely place that they'll find answers to the many questions surrounding some of their recent adventures.

Most importantly to Berend at least, it's also the most obvious place to find the kind of help they need to get their new Planejammer operational. After having spent a few dozen slime-spattered man-hours clearing the bridge of its infestation of worms, and then in the aftermath failing (painfully) to interface with the ship's arcane controls, the group knows they're going to have to rely on outside help if they're going to get the vessel repaired and on the move in the near future.

There is a little housekeeping to take care of before they leave. First, they let Mord know by letter where they're heading; then, finding Jilonto-Ressar in his now familiar drunken haze in the Quiet Corner, they deliver his wife's remains to him. He quivers with barely-contained grief at the news, and answers their questions about Lord Riva in curt mono-syllables. No, Riva still hasn't returned. No, he doesn't know where he is.

Jonas also uses the opportunity to start spreading rumours about Azimuth Royt's apparent dealings with demonic forces from the Underdark. The Atoll proves to be fertile ground for such scare-mongery, and within hours even the furthest corners of the town are alive with now-inflated tales of ritual sacrifice at the Prospector's Union and the murders of dozens and dozens of miners in the name of dark gods.

At last they join Shortham Banks' caravan on the east edge of town. It is a train of around a dozen or so wagons, with 40-50 people, all enjoying the supervision and protection of Banks and those under his employ. As they look around and introduce themselves, the following travellers stand out:

Shortham Banks: Shortham stands just under six feet, dressed head-to-toe in old, tough-looking leather wrapped in a variety of furs, with a brown wide-brimmed stetson and a deep handlebar moustache that depends from his nostrils to his chin.

Dorian Banks: Shortham's son stands just short of his father, with very tightly cropped blonde hair, a strong body and handsome features. He wears worn leather boots over light woolen clothes, a huge belt around his waist, and a hat similar to his father's.

Olak Grentz: Shortham's accountant and business partner, his clothes are an odd mix of formal business-like atire, with a smart waist-coat and expensive pocket-watch, and the purely practical: a knife-belt, leather back-pack, woolen breeches and knee-high boots. He looks comfortable in neither.

Wilder: Shortham's horse-wrangler is a man of few words, a cowboy who spends most of his time in the company of his animals, a pack of strong, healthy Plains Browns.

The Very Unroyal Brigade: This group of six mercenaries wears a common uniform or unusual, vertically-arranged leather plates, and offers its protection to the caravan free of charge. They are outriders, scouting ahead for danger, and seem aloof and uninterested in the people under their charge.

The Brothers Cannith: Two opulently appointed wooden caravans like little mobile homes stand apart from the rest. Although their owners are locked away from the hoi-poloi, their two man-servants busy themselves about the place making preparations for the journey.

Memory of the Ashen Cloth: These elven women, wrapped head-to-toe in dark-coloured silks so that only their almond-shaped eyes are visible, are reputedly on some kind of pilgrimmage to a site called the Winding Stone, some leagues along the route to Emerandes.

Flurock Caravan: A dwarf by the name of Simmiol Urqst is transporting around a quarter-ton of the dangerous material to Emerandes, under contract to the Prospector's Union.

The party engages in a little small talk before the caravan sets off. Simmiol is decidedly unimpressed with these four strangers trying to convince him that the rock he's carrying is some kind of deadly weapon, and responds simply that he has a contract to deliver it, and his reputation is worth more to him than any flights of fancy they might have.

His attitude changes, however, when a delegation from the Prospector's Union pays him a brief visit specifically to warn him about trusting the company. This offends his sensibilities more than anything else, and he leaves his paperwork conspicuously unguarded later that day for the party to browse. They discover that the flurock is destined for a shop called Randall's Exigency, a large arcane emporium near the Basilica in Emerandes.

Jonas meanwhile manages to convince Wilder to loan him one of his best horses for the duration of the trip (although he will be liable to the tune of 150gp should anything happen to the beast), and attempts to make contact with the Unroyal Brigade, hoping to ride out with them later that day. The woman he speaks to is unimpressed, scoffing at Jonas's "mercenary affiliations", and he is shunned.

"We wear our loyalties with pride, for all to see, not hidden behind a lie and a smile. You mercenary types are all the same."
-- One of the Very Unroyal Brigade, on the road to Emerandes.

Elumai engages with the women of the Ashen Cloth, and discovers something more of the history of the elves hailing from the distant Arubisath Forests, who were all-but annihilated by a virulent plague delivered to their Princes years ago by unknown malefactors. The elven nomads seek wisdom from the people and places of the plain, passing on their own story as a lesson to other races, and looking for clues as to how their own people might rise once again to prosperity from the shattered and disparate population they have become. The sisters also caution Elumai on the dangers of letting auguries of the future drown out the lessons of the past.

Eventually, with little fanfair, the caravan sets out. Shortham announces to the assembled travellers that he has been contracted to make three stops along the way: two nights so that the brothers Cannith can venture south into the Rowenoak foothills on matters of "family business"; three nights so that a trade syndicate from the caravan can visit Ashenport, a town on the western shore of the Lake of Shoals many days into the journey; and one night so that the sisters of the Ashen Cloth can make their pilgrimmage to the Winding Stone. With these pauses accounted for, he expects the entire journey to Emerandes to take around three weeks, depending on the weather.

Having already been unceremoniously shooed away from the caravans of the Cannith brothers (now identified as Parcival and Theruk), the party is decidedly curious about what these cloistered merchants are up to, and Jonas takes it upon himself to creep into Parcival's locked caravan late at night. The sleeping businessman, snoring the night away under silk bed-sheets, is blissfully unaware of the rogue as he rifles through whatever papers he can find.

The results are interesting. The Cannith family is clearly a wealthy member of the Court of Coin, and it appears the two brothers have ventured far from civilisation to hunt for something called the "Creation Forge". A scribbled map in Parcival's desk hints at the location in the northern ranges of the Rowenoaks, and scattered journals suggest that they're following clues left by someone else from the family called Jelia.

What gets Jonas's attention the most are skilfully-rendered drawings -- one might call them schematics -- of humanoid constructs that are dramatically reminiscent of the dragonborn warforged the company faced in one of the more dangerous cracks of the Underdark, a few weeks ago.

With barely contained mirth, Jonas quietly scatters some of the paperwork and steals a few oversized gold coins, stamped with the seal of House Cannith. Closing the door behind him, he uses his blade to scratch a random glyph on the otherwise unblemished surface of Parcival's wagon. The skill of the lookouts at the unroyal Brigade's camp prevents him from incriminating them in the theft, but he does cause mischief by tucking one of the coins in Simmiol's wagon... suitable punishment for a merchant trading in such dangerous material, even after being warned.

Next morning, cries of "Rogues! Alarm! I am burgled!" ring out from Parcival's wagon and a weary and short-tempered Shortham is called in to placate the irate merchant. A few minutes later, one of the men of the Unroyal Brigade silently agrees to act as personal bodyguard to the Cannith brothers for the rest of the trip, much to Jonas's amusement.

The party discusses the information he has recovered, and plan their next move...

4ed Campaign -- Session 44 -- Sunday 7th March

2010-03-22T09:38:00.000-07:00

In which the true cost of a rendezvous with Pargsmeer's whores is revealed, temptation is laid at the feet of the righteous, and the beneficiary of Pargsmeer's unearthly bargain is finally held to account...

Roster (Party Level 8th)
Berend - Dwarven Fighter
Elumai - Eladrin Wizard
Finial - Half-elf Paladin
Jonas - Human Rogue/Ranger

Various theories are tossed about regarding the visions in the crystals, but ultimately it is decided that the mystery is only likely to resolve itself by uncovering the rest of the house. The spiral stair is found to ascend another level, but emerges in a room infested with vermin, lapping at pools of blood dripping down from the ceiling above, and the company decides that another route may be preferable.

Adjacent to the room with the crystals is an all-but empty apartment, pale light filtering in through several thin windows, with a tight spiral stair in one corner. Pacing around the place is the ethereal image of a human cleric, his face bearing the scars of a ferocious beating, his eyes writ large with sadness; he moves to-and-fro, stopping in a far corner to put his head in his hands and weep.

Finial enquires of the apparition as to the source of his distress, and the ghost turns his forlorn expression upon the paladin.

"They're dead... those children, I should have been there... but I was weak, tempted by sins of the flesh... I should have been there for them, I would gladly have given my life for them. But it was taken from me, and now all those souls are lost..."
-- The ghost of the dead cleric, Pargsmeer House

Elumai recognises the cleric -- it's the very same man from the vision. He reveals he was once an aspirant to one of the churches of the plain, but prior to a life-time of celibacy, succumbed to a moment of weakness here at the Atoll. Rumours of his lapse in judgement raced ahead of him to the dioces and a notoriously unforgiving bishop, and he was summarily refused his robes. A few months later he was attacked by bandits on a distant trade-road, killed for the few coppers in his pocket.

He knows little of the church or deity he once worshipped, that solace having been stripped from him, and much less of his life before the Atoll; he is even ignorant even of his own name. He knows only that he is cursed to wonder this place until the devil that tempted him has been killed, and pleads with the adventurers to help him shake off his purgatory.

The adventurers come to a sudden realisation about the cleric and the images they have seen: Pargsmeer's whores did not, in fact, augur the future for the cleric... they *stole* it, pilfering a potential future from him as if it were payment for the deed. How many fates have been stolen in this way? How many people denied their rightful futures? Finial thinks to smash the globe containing the cleric's vision, and cracks the glass sphere in two, but the effort is useless, and the ghost merely shakes his head in sadness.

Jonas scouts up the stairs and finds himself emerging into a richly-appointed bed-chamber, apparently as pristine as the day it was built (though of course he doesn't believe the evidence of his own eyes). On the nearby four-poster, tossing and turning under a cover of silk sheets, is a pretty young woman, the very image of Eleanour Pargsmeer. She appears deep in the throes of a terrible nightmare, and utters "Father! What did you do? My sister..." as Jonas looks on.

The others join him but are unable to wake her. Thinking that removing her from the enchanted bedroom might be of some help, Finial scoops Eleanour out of the bed, and she reflexively puts her arms about his neck and her head to his chest. He carries her downstairs... but the ghost of the cleric is suddenly stricken with terror as he sees her. "Witch! Demon! Paladin, you know not what you have done!"

Finial turns to Eleanour to see she is awake, smiling alluringly at him. She places one cool palm upon his cheek and turns his mouth to her own. "Don't listen to him, my love. A kiss for your beloved?" Finial is entranced, and their lips meet.

Suddenly awake to the subterfuge, the others attack Eleanour -- or whatever she is -- and try to pry the two of them apart. After a judicious application of Force, Elumai manages to tear her off the paladin, and she lands on all fours, face rippling with devilish features, barely concealed. "Sisters! To my aid!" she screams with an ear-piercing shriek, and the upper floor suddenly erupts with the sound of footsteps pounding over the floorboards.

The succubus has many "sisters", grotesquely deformed ghouls dressed in rags that might once have been silk, but they are easily dispatched by way of a defensive line around the base of the stair, and although Finial remains under her away for the first few seconds of the fight, the devil herself is unceremoniously sent back to whatever hell spawned her when the paladin regains his senses.

Carefully pushing on through the now-empty third floor, the party ascends a final staircase to what was once the bed-chamber of the self-styled Lord and lady of this manor... and is now the lair of the devil to whom they sold their souls. Duke Venerix lounges on the massive bed, his huge frame smothering even the king-sized four-poster which dominates the room. His body is wrapped in a comically close-fitting smoking jacket, and his features are feral beneath jet black, swept-back hair and a pair of long horns which curve back from his forehead.

Reclining on the bed with him, resting their heads on his chest, are two female devils, and although their faces are now angular and monstrous, they were once undoubtedly the fair Pargsmeer daughters, now utterly transformed by the bargain their father made with the Duke. Their tails swish across the silk bed-sheets as they fondle Venerix and smile at the adventurers as they arrive. When he speaks, there is laughter in his voice as it thunders across the room, shaking the dainty statuettes still arranged on the dresser.

"Thusly arrive the bold adventurers, come to cleanse this den of iniquity from the earth! Cast down shall be the evildoers, lest they enjoy a moment of earthly pleasure!"
-- Duke Venerix to the company, Pargsmeer House

Although the devil appears in the mood for parlay with his unexpected guests, the company is having none of it, and spring to the attack. Barely able to stand in the confined space, Venerix rolls off the bed and begins pounding his fists at Berend, as Braid and Eleanour send waves of energy across the room, agony and ecstasy in equal measure which disorient their enemies and make it easy for Venerix to find his mark.

Suddenly the devil wraps his hand around Berend's throat and grins a mouth full of shockingly white teeth at the dwarf. Berend vanishes... and from inside Venerix's chest, the shape of a dwarven hand can be seen pushing feebly at the red flesh, trying to escape imprisonment in whatever hellish prison he has been entombed.

The battle in the attic bedroom is short, loud, and deadly. Berend asserts himself over Venerix's will and escapes to continue the fight, Jonas is able to duck in and out of cover with impunity, and Finial sears the devil's flesh with the light of his God. The Duke's destiny, it seems, is to be defeated at the hands of these explorers, and both he and his concubines are soon banished from the mortal realm.

4ed Campaign -- Session 43 -- Sunday 28th February

2010-03-17T05:32:00.000-07:00

In which a distant past reaches out to the company, and the tragic secrets of Pargsmeer House and Gardens finally begin to reveal themselves...

Roster (Party Level 8th)
Berend - Dwarven Fighter
Elumai - Eladrin Wizard
Finial - Half-elf Paladin
Jonas - Human Rogue/Ranger

The adventurers familiarise themselves with Pargsmeer House's history before venturing across to investigate. Owned by the self-appointed Lord and Lady Pargsmeer almost 150 years ago, where they lived with their two daughters Eleanour and Braid, the House was built as a counterpoint to the more stately mayoral manor and then, soon after its completion and much to the surprise of the township, it was opened as a brothel to the burgeoning foot traffic passing through Crow's Atoll.

By repute, those who availed themselves of the House's services would have their fortune read as part of the 'service', and business was good. Still, Arnold Pargsmeer managed to bankrupt himself by attempting, a few years later, to buy himself a popular mandate to take over the mayorship of the town from the Crow family.

Despite completing several essential public works (the Pump House among them), he never achieved the momentum necessary to win the people's vote and was soon in dire financial trouble. When his daughters were reported to have died in an unspecified accident, the family shut themselves away for good, and not long after that, the earth tremors which collapsed the land-bridge to the Needle struck the atoll.

No-one has ventured across since then, but Berend applies himself to the problem of actually reaching the Needle by designing a winged harness... a complex contraption that not one of his friends, colleagues, or the hundred-or-so spectators who gather around the pump-house think has a hope of working. With bets being taken and the odds tumbling by the hour, he straps himself in, and launches himself over the gulf.

The flight is spectacular, the view even more so. Updrafts from the gulf keep his little glider in the air long enough for him to reach the walls of the needle, a quartz-encrusted cliff-face that promises to smash him to smithereens and dump his body into the mists below... but as he makes contact, he hits the quick-release on his harness, and latches on with two specially-crafted rock-hammers strapped to his hands.

Memories from long ago, of Teremoen Crow and his team of mountaineers risking life and limb to build the cable-way, rise unbidden to the minds of the older members of his audience and a smattering of applause slowly rises, climaxing in an appreciative crescendo as he hauls himself up the cliff and collapses over the edge. Stringing a make-shift line across the gap, the rest of the party soon joins him.

Pargsmeer gardens have gone to ruin, a colourless, overgrown waste-land of dead or dying plants surrounded by a rusting iron fence. The house itself, a stone fortress with thin stained windows like arrow-slits, and crumbling walls, is no more inviting. Jonas scouts to the top of the highest tower, and though the view across the plain is a good one, finds no means of ingress other than a few shuttered windows, which though he might be able to de-glaze and squeeze through, would leave him far too vulnerable.

Below, the party investigates the inner courtyard. On the cold wind, it seems voices are rising from the well there, moaning in rising ecstasy and then cut abruptly off in strangled screams. A light lowered into the depths shows a deep layer of leaves and other detritus, and feebly clutching skeletal hands which the party decide to simply ignore.

Above, looking down on the courtyard from a mezzanine reached via a thin flight of steps, is an intricately carved stone statue. It shows a man and a woman arm-in-arm, and two younger girls crouching at their feet: the Pargsmeer family. It's a pleasant enough portrait, except for the fact that the faces of both daughters have been desecrated by clawed hands. Pieces of rubble around the base of the statue are all that remains of their features.

Entering the house through a collapsed doorway, they find a large reception area, it's once-plush red carpet now mangy and stained, and the whole interior reeking of decades-old entropy.

A door to one side leads to what might have once been on office of some kind. Hung askew on the wall is the original portrait on which the status outside was based, this time with the beauty of the Pargsmeer daughters intact, and on the opposite wall, hanging above two fallen candelabras, is a framed picture of nothing but purest black, the brush-strokes thick and purposeful. Elumai identifies it as a Null Portrait, a magical device whose real picture only becomes clear after the repayment of some old debt.

Amongst a pile of broken wood like an unlit bonfire, the party finds the remains of a ledger describing the last few years of the brothel's business. The numbers become gradually fewer, and smaller, towards the back of the book, and the last few pages seem to have been ripped out. Beneath the family portrait, a loose corner of dried carpet is lifted to find a simple message etched into the wooden floorboards: "I'm sorry".

Continuing their investigation, they're enticed to a room in the north-west corner. Jonas is first to take a peek inside, and he sees the ruined remains of what was once a boudoir, with several rotting beds, a few mildly pornographic portraits at crazy angles on the walls... and lying on one of the beds, a beautiful young woman, who slithers across the filthy sheets and beckons for him to enter. The rational part of his mind screams a warning, but it is overcome by the glamor and, utterly entranced, he moves towards her.

The rest of the party are somewhat dismayed to see Jonas break from his customary stealth and stroll with a dopey smile into the heart of the room, and they rush to follow. Unfortunately, they then all find themselves under attack by the wraiths, appearing in various guises as beautiful woman designed to entrap the minds of the party. Not so easily does an adventurer's will succumb to such trickery, however, and although the lingering undead enjoy brief success, rationality soon asserts itself and the denizens of the boudoir are handily dispatched.

Finding a spiral iron stair, the party ascends to the first floor. In a room overlooking the rearward garden, they are attacked by a poltergeist which flings porcelain figurines about the room with vicious force... and are privvy to an echo of the past, as two ghostly figures can be seen rushing through the gardens, pausing for a last embrace at the cliff's edge, before flinging themselves off to certain death below. Such, it appears, was the final fate of Arnold Pargsmeer and his wife Pondra.

Next-door, they find a room with a bay window which has been removed or which has simply disintegrated with the passage of time. Four pedestals arranged near the back wall carry shrouded glass globes like crystal balls, their interiors opaque and cloudy. Elumai volunteers to examine them, resists a powerful assault on her mind, and sees a distant image within the globe, a scene played out for her alone:

...the face of an overjoyed prospector, staring in disbelief at an uncut gem the size of his fist, its unrealised beauty reflected in the flickering light of his candle...

Similar visions play out from the other globes, as the rest of the party step up to search for clues to the mystery:

...a battered-looking cleric, his robes soaked and dishevilled, holding a glowing holy symbol aloft as a horde of ghouls, their ripped flesh entwined in rotting seaweed, converge on a schoolhouse to feast on the terrified children cowering within...

...a beautiful young woman, flushed with excitement and pride as she is led by a handsome prince along a procession of courtiers to meet a white-robed king with a crown of silk...

...an emerald-robed wizard, clutching a silver-shod tome, whispering a last prayer on the wind as he tumbles from the pinnacle of a jade tower...

The company pauses to consider the implications of these images...

Rodney Thompson Cordially Invites You

2010-03-04T05:21:00.000-08:00

...to help Wizards write better adventures. In a refreshingly frank and particularly un-Wizards-like way, I have to say.

A lot of what has been posted in that thread mirrors my own experience, and I'll probably have something to add... if and when I think of anything interesting that hasn't already been said. In the meantime, if you fancy contributing to an unusually direct piece of market research, now is the time.

I, Dungeon Master (1)

2010-03-02T04:26:00.001-08:00

Starting a series of posts in which I talk about various lessons learned in the course of DM'ing the Cradle Plain campaign.

Scarily, it's coming up on 2 years since the latest edition of D&D was released. Through hard work and no small amount of good fortune, I've managed to build and sustain a weekly campaign for most of that time. This is a big deal, because the last time I managed it, I was 13, and in those days, Saturday afternoons were for playing D&D, and Sunday afternoons were for planning next Saturday afternoon. Those days may have gone, but the nagging dreams of weekly D&D and long-term campaigns never did.

The game, and those who play it, mean a great deal to me, and for the first time in just about ever, I've been roleplaying regularly enough to start ironing out the creases and actually evolve a campaign which responds to its players.

To celebrate this, I humbly submit Wedge's Top Tips for successful role-playing, in no particular order. Bear in mind that we haven't hit Paragon yet, so I can only vouch for this advice in the Heroic tier (and it would be very interesting if the advice changed tier-to-tier).

#1 - Monsters Take 10 For Initiative

PC's with good Initiative scores (those with a healthy Dex, and feats or other external factors) will always have an Initiative in excess of the average monster at their level, and on the whole can expect to act first. Strikers will want to get in there before the bad guys have lifted a finger and exploit Combat Advantage; Controllers will want to pin them to the spot and delay big-hitting melee enemies from closing as long as possible; Defenders will want to make themselves target numero-uno; and so-on.

Simply put, you should always aim for them to do this.

This tip has a couple of solid mechanical justifications (for example, a good surprise round can reduce the chances of the fight deteriorating into an unwelcome grind), as well as a few healthy player-upkeep justifications (chiefly, groups looove catching the bad guys with their pants down), but most importantly one supreme, all-governing gameplay ramification: it tends to stop your combats getting bottle-necked.

You know the drill, I'm sure. You've planned a nefarious encounter area, with multiple subtle terrain features, strategising opponents, and deadly defenses; the party approaches, kicks in the door, and boom! You roll the villains' Initiative and groan inwardly as you realise, most of your guys are going to go first.

You have a couple of choices in this situation. First, you could outright lie. Frown, tut and shake your head at the clattering dice before the screen... then ignore the 19 that came up, and jot down a 4. We'll assume that egregious dice-fudgement is out of the question though, so moving on...

Second, you could have your guys delay or ready. For melee creatures, this tends to look horribly contrived unless the circumstances warrant it (say, an ambush); it may have looked good for Neo, but having brutes and soldiers thumb their noses at the PC's instead of charging in to get the first attack while their opponents are stuffed into a cramped corridor suggests less intelligence than I usually want to give them credit for.

If you're lucky, you have an encounter group where an enemy Controller can spend a round buffing his allies. This looks good, seems like intelligent behaviour, and provides opportunity for trash-talk, all points in its favour.

In my experience though, more often than not in these situations, you will have a melee contingent in the encounter group, they will gain a strong advantage by rushing the PC's, and it would make no sense for them to not to. So they do, and your carefully-planned milieu is reduced down to a 4x2 square zone just inside the door, neatly excising from the encounter one of the main combat improvements that make 4E what it is: mobility.

Cue static 3E-like combat, the unleashing of terribly uninteresting At-Will's, and the hilarious scattering of miniatures as you struggle to apply your magnetic markers to a wizard surrounded by nine kobold miniatures, all with spears.

I exagerate, but the point is that you should always strive to get the PC's into your encounter area before you engage them. Let the Striker sneak round the back... all the better, because when he gets into trouble, he'll have to call for help. Let the Defender mark his foe and get toe-to-toe with him... he'll probably have stepped through the front rank to do so. Get the protagonists in places where they can strategise, look for synnergies, and really exploit the fluidity of a good 4E encounter.

Everyone will thank you for it, friend and foe alike.

4ed Campaign -- Session 42 -- Sunday 21st February 2010

2010-02-26T04:05:00.000-08:00

In which a mysterious enemy slips through the party's fingers, and a return to daylight brings one last promise of glory at the Atoll...

Roster (Party Level 8th)
Berend - Dwarven Fighter
Elumai - Eladrin Wizard
Finial - Half-elf Paladin
Jonas - Human Rogue/Ranger

In the aftermath of the battle, with the ashes of several wagons gently smouldering nearby and the surviving mercenaries going about the grim task of collecting the bodies of their comrades, the company begins a frustrating interrogation of Aiyanna, sitting as always with Krait at her side. She reiterates what she said before, that she has no choice in this matter, and adds that she could tell them nothing even if she wanted to: her master would not permit it.

Questions about who this "master" actually is are met with stony silence, although Berend elicits the comment "he is the man between spaces". His control over her seems absolute.

"Every promise of my life before I was born, every dream of my parents as to what I could be... every choice and deed and consequence while I'm alive... every legend or rumour or tale of my existence after I'm gone... all his. Everything I have been or ever will be. Utterly his."
-- Aiyanna on her "master"

During the questioning Finial's suspicions surrounding Krait, and who he might be, start to rise. He detects a strange paradoxical relationship between the two of them, as if the huge goliath's deference to her is a deception, and trusting his instincts completely, as always, he levels his flail at him. "In Bahamut's name, you will face me!"

Krait's reaction is immediate. "So be it, paladin!" As he stands, Aiyanna's eyes roll up into her head and she enters some kind of fugue. Finial gets to his feet as well, and his friends -- after the briefest moment of hesitation for some of them while they decide whether helping will impune the holy warrior's dignity -- also decide to join the fight. Around them, the remaining members of Aiyanna's company stand around uncertainly, confused by yet another strange turn of events.

Krait focuses his attention on Finial to the exclusion of all other attacks. His massive two-handed sword is at first incorporeal, slicing through Finial's torso but not doing any real damage. That is until the creature utters a curse which seems to shroud the paladin in a terrible quiet, the voice of his god suddenly more distant than it has ever been, whereupon the blade folds into terrible reality that Finial can barely stand to look at, let alone defend himself against. The weapon cuts into him and forces him to use attacks which don't rely on Bahamut for strength.

"Is the voice of your god quietened, paladin? Are the angels silenced? Such is the reach of my will."
--Krait, to Finial, in the caverns of the Underdark.

Still, whether Krait was unprepared for this combat, or some other unknown reason, he doesn't make a massive impression on Finial's defenses before the combined assaults of the paladin's companions bring him to his knees. However with one last, defiant burst of power, he whispers a name ("Izo") and both he and Aiyanna slip out of existence, vanishing from the cavern and frustrating the adventurers of their victory.

Elumai examines the site of their escape, detecting a rupture in the fabric of the World which is far in excess of her own experience or ability to analyze (although that fact in itself is telling). Meanwhile Jonas menaces two of the remaining mercenaries, who tell him that they're just as confused as he is about what just happened.

Aiyanna hired them a few weeks previously, and they've travelled the caverns of the Underdark ever since, making camp intermittently so that Aiyanna can disappear and pay a visit to one of her "targets". They have no idea why, but they do offer to retrace their steps if it will save their lives. The party, however, decides against it, content to let this mystery go for now, and the mercenaries are allowed to leave.

A couple of days are spent in the Seven-Pillared Hall, assisting with the clean-up and ensuring that some of the stipulations made at the council meeting are upheld. Jonas, keen to start his own network of spies, starting in the Seven-Pillared Hall, recruits a likely candidate and gives them enough coin to find and employ other like-minded individuals to the cause. Perhaps detecting Berend's growing sympathy for Brugg's plight, or perhaps on a whim -- who knows? -- he also takes the time to free the ogre of his chains. The Mages' old lackey disappears from the Hall almost immediately.

Soon the time comes to take their leave of the Hall and return whence they came. The trip, which seemed so dangerous just a couple of weeks ago, now seems tame in comparison with the trials they have endured, and after an uneventful trek, they emerge, blinking, into the midday sun at Goffer's Ledge.

Up above, a few errands are the order of the day before the lure of further adventure in Pargsmeer House and Gardens, the atoll's notorious haunted house, proves too much. At the manor, they discover that the mayor has sealed herself in with her new husband -- none other than Mord himself! -- for the traditional 6-nights and 7-days of post-nuptial bliss. They're denied entrance, despite their association with the new first-dwarf of the Atoll.

Jonas, determined to uncover exactly what Asimuth Royt knows of the flurock and its properties, corners the Union man in a dark corner of the town and tries hard to elicit evidence of his guilt. The dragonborn prospector appears bemused by leading questions of worms and mages, however, and upon hints that the Mages want more of the material to continue their work, is forced to report that the stock has in fact dried up. Tempted by an offer of "three times the normal rate", however, Royt agrees to re-open some of the more dangerous lower mines for prospecting, on the off-chance that they missed a rich seam of the mineral during their earlier searches.

And finally, news which stands them in good stead for the journey east. With Riva still missing, his caravan is stranded at the Atoll, but another, much larger wagon-train under the stewardship of renowned driver Shortham Banks is due to leave for Emerandes in two days. The party pays a visit to his accountant, Olak Grentz, and in lieu of paying the fee for joining the trip, sign on as official and designated protection for the caravans and their occupants.

Which gives them a full day to kill, and a haunting to resolve...

4ed Campaign -- Session 41 -- Sunday 7th February 2010

2010-02-20T17:59:00.000-08:00

In which the company demonstrates a flair for politics with their friends, and an appetite for destruction with their enemies.

Roster (Party Level 8th)
Berend - Dwarven Fighter
Elumai - Eladrin Wizard
Finial - Half-elf Paladin
Matorna-Reevash (Human Kingsblade warrior, Finial's Companion, deceased)
Jonas - Human Rogue/Ranger

With a splash, the party re-emerges into the Seven-Pillared Hall. Not having been gone more than a couple of hours, the scene is pretty-much much as they had left it, with a sullen-looking populace going about the sombre task of recovering the dead from the rubble of the Hall.

Brugg has been almost immediately put to work, a large spiked iron collar bolted around his neck with a long chain attached to a spike hammered into a crack in the ground. The once-tyrannical ogre looks utterly miserable as he shifts the mroe massive chunks of rock and brick from around the ruins of the Halfmoon Inn.

The party informs Orontor of their victory, and the news is enough to entice him out of the pile of rubble in which he's been hiding since the worms attacked. Thoughts turn to their next step. In the immediate term, they busy themselves aiding the population in the clean-up efforts as much as they can, but they know that, being held in great esteem for the work they've done in freeing the inhabitants from the yoke of the mages, folks are looking to them for guidance on what to do next. Even Orontor, helping as best he can (or maybe just unwilling to leave the vicinity of the adventurers), is expectant in this regard.

At one point conversation turns to the subject of the secret Jonas gave up to the Enigma of Vecna in return for the god's boon. Jonas is pragmatic on the subject, and much to everyone's surprise, tells them something of his past:

"I told him who the head of the assassin’s guild was in Emerandes. They train you from an early age, and spotted the potential in me when I was barely able to walk. My training went well and I found I was able to kill for money, detaching myself from any connection I may have felt for the target. That was until I was charged with killing a young girl, Mari; her death was to be a message to her father. I could not bring myself to do it, so my trainer Aran did the deed, and in a furious rage I killed him and fled the city. My life will be forfeit if I ever return."
-- Jonas to his friends in the Seven-Pillared Hall

The company decides to convene a meeting, to be held in the cleared-out shell of the Halfmoon. The people of the Hall nominate three representatives to speak for them: Ulthand Deepgem, who arrives with a somewhat healthier looking Wendy than the last time they saw her, Anton Jones, an unassuming trader who has gained renown in the past for acting as a broker between the demands of the mages and the needs of the people, and no less than Orontor himself, who is chosen as the most appropriate candidate to speak on behalf of what is left of the Mages of Saruun. The three mages they rescued from Paldemar's Recluse -- all that were left breathing of the twenty-or-so contingent that once ruled the Hall and were to be sacrificed in the name of Namotath's return -- seem ambivalent about the choice, and are content to let him speak on their behalf.

The meeting is generally calm. Suggestions of allowing the Mages to once more assume control of the Hall -- put forth in good conscience by the company as one of many options on the table -- are soundly rejected, as reports of Paldemar's plans and the failure of anyone except Orontor to actually do anything about them begin to surface. Gradually, the notion of rebuilding the Hall back into the influential Underdark trading hub it once was start to gain favour... but this time under self-rule, and overseen by a council of members all of whom represent the major interests of the people who live there.

It is decided that an interim council should be assembled to oversee the reconstruction of the Hall, and that a new election shall be held every year. Anson Jones, who has spoken with measured calm and neutrality throughout the meeting, is a shoe-in for the nomination of chairman and representative of the various traders in the Hall.

Elumai puts Orontor forward (much to his delight) as a representative of the mages, but some in the crowd who still distrust him suggest that Vendra, one of the surviving Mages of Saruun from Paldemar's recluse, should stand as well, and even with Finial's sponsorship influencing the vote, Vendra's demeanour wins over the crowd and she gets the vote as representative for the mages over a disappointed Orontor.

Finally, it is decided that the spiritual needs of the community should be dispensed by incumbent cleric Phaledra... but the party insists that she curbs her proselytising and is accepting of other faiths than Erathis. For the chance she has been looking for to make her residence in the Hall permanent, it's a compromise she's more than willing to make.

As the final votes are cast, the company notices that Bersk, the old wainright, is despondant at not being selected as the tradesman's representative, and that he appears to have been taking clandestine advice on his oratory from a woman they've never seen before. The company is suspicious of Bersk's association with this individual and, waiting for her to leave, confronts him about it. The wainwright at first refuses to answer their questions, but slowly the implications of resisting the champions of the Hall starts to outweigh the consequences of telling them the truth... and so he does, strange as it is.

Pulling them into one of the smellier donkey stalls (much to the annoyance of its occupant), he admits that the woman's name is Aiyanna, and she has come to him demanding moneys (the princely sum of 1000g, far in excess if anything he will ever be able to pay) for not revealing a secret of his. The company expects to hear about some hidden crime or famaily woe, but instead he tells them that his secret is.. a name. Whispered to him in dreams as long as he can remember... of a three-sided pyramid with a single, staring eye on each face, and on the warm wind the name "Obery".

The strangeness of the blackmail momentarily stumps the adventurers. Who is this "Obery", how would Aiyanna know of Bersk's dreams (he swears he has never told anyone until now), and who is she threatening to tell unless he pays up? Wracking his brains, Finial remembers a story he once heard as a child, of a time when the Gods could not speak to each-other except through divine messengers, and that one such messenger was called "Obereen" or something similar. This is as much context as anyone can come up with.

In any case, there is the immediate problem of the threat to Bersk, and the company orders him not to pay any more money to this woman until they have investigated. Jonas pursues Aiyanna to a cavern some miles out of the Hall, used by many of the Underdark's travellers as a resting place, and discovers she is part of a larger expedition, including half-a-dozen covered wagons and two-dozen or more people, most of them armed. In conversation with a huge goliath who she calls Krait, Jonas discerns that she has already collected money from two other people somewhere in the Underdark, and that she is somewhat desperate to collect the cash from Bersk as well. Jonas employs a couple of halfling traders to keep an eye on the wagons, and returns to the Hall, where the company decides that confronting Aiyanna is the most appropriate course of action at this point.

They return to the wagons and are able to parlay with her, flanked by her body-guard, and with half-a-dozen arrows trained on them from bowmen hidden in the wagons. Aiyanna is unrepentant, and wholly unintimidated by the reputation of the adventurers. Initially she refuses them any information at all, except for asking whether they think she has any choice in the matter either, but this brief opportunity is enough for Finial's silver tongue to persude her that they might be able to help her as well. She appears almost entirely unconvinced... but nevertheless invites the party into the camp for further discussions.

All to the good... except Jonas cannot resist whispering a gotcha! into the ear of the archer he was poised to bring down in one of the wagons. The guard -- having been holding his bow at full extension for the duration of the extended parlay outside -- lets loose the arrow in surprise, which streaks out of the wagon, ripping a hole in the leather coverings, and smashing into shards against the cavern wall. Krait, already suspecting treachery, roars "We are betrayed!" and... everything generally goes down-hill from there.

In the ensuing chaos, all efforts to curtail the combat are futile. Jonas, in his element, darts from wagon to wagon, frustrating Krait's attempts to find him and striking from the shadows at any likely targets in reach. Elumai unleashes a burst of flame into the laager as Aiyanna retreats, causing the nearby wagons to erupt into a rapidly expanding inferno. Towards the back of the camp, terrified civilians who were already hiding in the wagons leap out of the path of the encroaching flames and cluster in a panic in one corner. Aiyanna, bereft of her guard by Jonas's taunts, is quickly brought low by a blow from Berend, and immediately accepts his offer of surrender, ordering her people to stand-down.

As the fires are brought under control, the company considers what can be rescued from this debacle...

Cradle Plain -- The Story So Far

2010-02-11T06:41:00.000-08:00

Session 55 - Trial in the Family Court
Elumai claims to be married to Finial in order to escape Lord Hyseth's advances, but is marched to the consulate on charges of conspiracy against the Summer Queen. A conversation with Hyseth's mother reveals they're nothing more than a lie designed to blackmail Elumai into returning to her son, and eventually she is freed. Hyseth coolly issues an ominous threat towards her "little friend" Seraiya, as revenge for this betrayal.

Session 54 - The Doom of the Elves
The party tracks the killers across the plain and ambushes a camp of shadar-kai, a band of brutal self-mutilating shadow-dwellers who are hunting elves lest the plagues of the Ashen Cloth resurface to threaten the world. The party rescues a tiefling warlock, Aerello, a member of the caravan who was inexplicably kidnapped by the killers, and catch up with the caravan. Upon arriving in Emerandes, they are accosted by a band of heavily-armoured eladrin, whose leader, Lord Hyseth, immediately places Elumai under arrest by order of the Court of Stars.

Session 53 - Bahamut's Flames
In the wake of their victory, the party returns to Ashenport where Finial wreaks stern justice on the complicity of the townsfolk. Amidst evidence of a vicious fight where they left Shortham's caravan, the Sisters of the Ashen Cloth have been cruelly murdered and left on display as a warning to those who follow.

Session 52 - The Tilt of the World
Deep in a coastal cave, the party tracks down the source of the Call which has been killing the people of Ashenport, and though the walls between worlds become very thin in the fury of its attacks, they prevail.

Session 51 - The Mouth of Dagon
Defending themselves against the attack on the beach, the party enacts a Water Breathing ritual and pursues its malefactors to a cave complex down the coast from Ashenport. Inside, aberrant invaders stifle their progress.

Session 50 - Dark Pacts Under a Stormy Sky
Banks's caravan moves on to Ashenport, where the party escorts a wagon of trade goods only to find the entire town buttoned up against a ferocious storm. A strange song calls them to the sea, where Finial discovers a terrible truth.

Session 49 - Last Queen of the Forbidden Forge
The party defends itself against Valsath's counter-attack but Jelia convinces the party that he should pay for his treachery, and he does. In the heart of the forge itself, Calmachia invites the company to parlay but is too dangerous to be allowed to live, and the dragon is cut down.

Session 48 - Thralls of Calmachia
The party successfully shuts down the forge from its arcane control centre, and discovers Jelia in a hidden study. Defended by her construct minions, she is a stalwart opponent until sense prevails and the two forces engage in parlay. She reveals she is a prisoner of Calmachia, the dragon-mistress of the Forge.

Session 47 - The Ghost and the Machine
Falling foul of insidious traps and draconic warforged, the party pursues Jelia d'Cannith and her mercenary hobgoblins into the Forge.

Session 46 - Raiders of the Creation Forge
Using a stolen map, the party heads south into the Rowenoak foothills and discovers an underground facility buried deep in the hillside. They overcome its mercenary defenders, and find evidence of more warforged, except that these are humanoid, not dragonborn, in appearance. They converse with the Forge's long-dead architect, a forge-wraith by the name of Haestus d'Cannith.

Session 45 - Trouble on a New Horizon
After clearing up a few loose ends on the Atoll, the company joins renowned ranger Shortham Banks on his caravan heading east to Emerandes. They pick up a clue as to who in the city might be buying flurock, and uncover evidence that some of their fellow travellers might know more about the dragonborn warforged that the party fought deep in the Underdark.

Session 44 - The Preacher and the Devil
The party resolves to help the ghost of a cleric whose indiscretion inadvertantly robbed him of his destiny to die a heroic death protecting a school full of children. Fighting off the unwelcome attentions of a succubus, they at last face down Duke Venerix and the devilish incarnations of Pargsmeer's own daughters... the terrible dowry paid by the businessman in return for a life-time of wealth.

Session 43 - The Old House on the Needle
The party ventures into Pargsmeer House, a haunted mansion long cut-off from the rest of the Atoll. Inside the ruined brothel, they fight off undead remnants of the house's occupants, and uncover evidence that Pargsmeer's devilish whores were literally robbing clients of their rightful fates.

Session 42 - Ill Tidings and Fond Farewells
The party questions Aiyanna but she admits only that she is utterly enslaved to the "man between spaces". Finial's suspicions over Krait are confirmed when he responds to a challenge with powers which appear able to cut the paladin off from Bahamut; the goliath is defeated with the help of Finial's companions, but escapes -- with Aiyanna -- before any more questions can be asked. Taking their leave of the Seven-Pillared Hall, the party returns to the surface to clear up a few loose ends.

Session 41 - Politics and Persuasion
Returning to the Seven-Pillared Hall, the party oversees proceedings which decide on the immediate future of the community, and get suspicious at the association between Bersk the wainwright and a woman they haven't seen before. Talking with Bersk, they find out he is being blackmailed by the woman -- called Aiyanna -- over a strange dream he has had since childhood, and they decide to confront her and her band of mercenaries. The situation collapses into a chaotic fight until eventually Aiyanna surrenders.

Session 40 - Spawn of Namotath
Paldemar enacts his plan to use the call of Namotath's resurrected children to return the Rockworm from entropy within Tumerex, sacrificing what's left of the Mages of Saruun in the process. The adventurers brave the onslaught of both Paldemar and Passeract, dispatch their enemy only to see him raised anew as a nascent Rockworm... but the worm is young and unable to bring its full power to bear. They are tested to their limits, but the party is able to take advantage and dispatch the villain, though Matorna-Reevash gives her life in pursuit of her revenge. Claiming a cache of gold as their reward, they portal out of the ship, Berend already making plans as to how it can be repaired and put to good use.

Session 39 - Old Love, New Despair
Exploring deeper into the vessel, the company discovers a laboratory in which the secrets of the planes have been laid bare in pursuit of Tumerex, and sleeping quarters belonging to whom they assume was once the owner and pilot of the ship, a Reverand Tarq Frushante, hailing from the distant landcapes of Nerath. Berend sees the party safely through a dangerous traversal through the flesh of Tumerex itself until the adventurers at last disturb Paldemar, discussing the last details of his plans with Passeract on the bridge of the ship.

Session 38 - Paldemar's Recluse
The party arrives back in Paldemar's meeting room only to find that they are in some kind of vessel deep in Tumerex. They find the remains of some Vecnan cultists, and the shattered corpse of Emerjis, partially transformed into a worm. Heading up, they discover a shrine devoted to Vecna, and in defeating the reanimated remains of the cultists, come by intelligence that suggests Paldemar has betrayed the God of Secrets. Jonas accepts an offer to receive Vecna's boon in bringing revenge to those who would dare such an affront.

Session 37 - The Mage Who Must Pay
The company battles through Murkelmoor's defenses and brings the fiendish human down, successfully preventing one of the three worms from being birthed. Matorna-Reevash, hideously scarred and clinging to life, begs Finial to vouch for her with the Court of Swords lest her actions be construed as traitorous, and the kind paladin agrees. Using a ritual found on Murkelmoor's person, the party jaunts through Tumerex, the plane of worms, back to the Seven-Pillared Hall, there to find that the worms released in the Well appear to have grown greatly in size and destroyed most of the Hall at Paldemar's behest. Saving Orontor from a furious mob determined to exact revenge on the hapless mage, he gives them the password which will grant them access to Paldemar's sanctuary.

Session 36 - Children of Kworm
Beyond the proving grounds, the party comes upon a Necrotech laboratory and its resident surgeon, the vile Liddite Vakkram, who is holding Matorna-Reevash prisoner in his horrific apparatus. They're able to destroy the evildoer and his demonic servitors before he can complete whatever procedure he was performing on her -- they think -- and gain valuable information as he forces them to share his memories of his apprenticeship with another Necrotech cultist, Quincy the Pale. Matorna-Reevash fills in the gaps which connect Liddite, Paldemar, and Murkelmoor, the leader of the gnoll invasion force. It seems Necrotech is integral to the mage's plans to raise the worm from its petrified rest. The Kingsblade recovers her armour and weapons, and joins the party as they descend into the inner sanctum of the Well.

Within, Murkelmoor is completing final preparations for some kind of ritual with three more urns like the one they found above... and unfortunately for them all, Matorna-Reevash is not as unharmed as she appears, obeying at a word from Murkelmoor his order to spill her own blood into the urns. As she does so, her skin blackens and crisps, and a necrotech-infused worm is birthed from the ichor in the pot, driving upwards into the churning black cloud which smothers the roof of the chamber and out of sight. A ferocious battle with Murkelmoor and his demons ensues.

Session 35 - Riddle of the Swords
With the riddle of the sealed door before them, the party ventures aside into two proving grounds, and emerge bloodied, but victorious, opening the way to the hidden depths of the Well of Demons.

Session 34 - Rise of The Worm
Proceeding in the tracks laid by the gnolls, the party discovers that the sanctum is an ancient testing ground for minotaur aspirants, uncovering mummified corpses as testament to this distant past. In a room recently used by the gnolls, they discover urns full of black ichor emanating necromantic auras so fierce that they're almost knocked off their feet, and in a large central chamber with a sealed exit, the true history of Saruun Khel is laid bare in paintings on the walls: it seems the last minotaur prince, Syosik Kvorn, turned his back on Baphomet and began worshipping a race of giant Rockworms. How this led to the destruction and abandonment of the labyrinth remains unclear.

While deciphering the pictographs they're attacked by strange, spider-like creatures made of the same material as the Necrotech Coffin and glove. Enveloping the stash of flurock which Berend has been carrying since they discovered the substance, they expend themselves energising it, and it morphs violently into a huge, pulsating worm, akin to the creatures in the drawings. The party battles the vile anelid, coming to understand something more of what the flurock is, and why Paldemar might be coveting it.

Session 33 - A Small Fee
The party is victorious in the Hall of the Red Vein, and turns its attention to the portal. Three of their number discover that a tithe of blood is all that is required to activate it, and the adventurers step through to arrive in an underground chamber dominated by a huge bell. Pressing on, they're attacked by a subterranean horror and discover that the complex appears to be built over the top of a massive nest of ghouls. Finial vows to return and cleanse this place, but for now, other matters are more pressing.

Session 32 - Unwelcome Revelations
Berend, whose behaviour has become increasingly erratic, attacks the duergar Proxim who knew his name, but is pulled away by his friends. The pragmatic prisoner, knowing that his fate is probably sealed, taunts the party with snippets of insight: the gnolls and their demon allies have used some kind of magical technology to break the seal on the portal to the Well of Demons, something the duergar have been trying to do in Asmodeus's name for years. He also says that a member of the Hrafnkell clan has long-been foretold to save the Horned Hold in its hour of greatest need. Berend, whose hands now bear scars resembling the sigil of Asmodeus, patron of the duergar, rejects the information and Proxim is killed.

Knowing that they must head through the portal to rescue Matorna-Reevash, the party determines to wipe out the remainder of the gnoll forces and kills their leader, a shaman named Absin Yugleth, who almost kills Berend with the same device he had been using to drain the life-force of the dozens of duergar imprisoned in the Hold's great hall. A strange, organic glove, strongly reminiscent of the Necrotech Coffin discovered earlier.

Session 31 - Unexpected Saviours
They party finds the Horned Hold under attack by a band of powerful gnolls wielding dark magic designed to suck the souls of the duergar and redirect it into a triangular portal which was being excavated by the dwarves. Berend is physically and mentally affected by the fortress, unusual scars appearing on his fore-arms, and the voices of his ancestors whispering in his ears. Investigating the dungeon, they find none-other than old friend Corrash, who recounts being captured by the gnolls and interrogated about Berend; they also find the first of the captured Kingsblade, Entil-Poroy, who has been crippled by torture but is able to tell them that Matorna-Reevash has been taken to somewhere called "The Well".

With a heavy heart, Xavier acquiesces to the old soldier's last request and sends him to the next life. Deeper in the fortress, the party defeats a clutch of demons and finds a duergar prisoner who seems to recognise Berend. Above, Elumai finds what she assumes is the "Necrotech Coffin" talked about in Krand's papers, a black shell as tall as a man, filled with fleshy mechanisms like living organs.

Session 30 - ???

Session 29 - Into the Horned Hold
Back down below... the company emerges from the cistern into the Horned Hold, a duergar fortress. Their initial foray is short as they endeavour to deal with the orcs and ogres blocking the way.

Session 28 - The Smoke Stack (Interlude)
Some time earlier... the party is hired by Ulthand Deepgem to scout a potentially lucrative seam of gems and minerals deep in a dangerous part of the labyrinth called the Smoke Stack. Fighting their way past gelatinous cubes, they uncover a cavern of fire where the barrier to the Elemental Chaos is dangerously thin. After a pitched battle with creatures which have passed through the veil, they secure the cavern, rescuing Ulthand's prized hog Wendy in the process, and earning themselves a healthy 10% commission from all future profits made by the old prospector in the Stack.

Session 27 - Ghosts of Past Glory
Following the map, the party inadvertantly desecrates a floating mausoleum of dead sahuagin but is able to talk their way past the enclave without a single blow being struck. The creatures show signs of some kind of calciferous infection reminiscent of a vast store of flurock uncovered in an earlier chamber. Further in, the company is assailed by a team of ghostly minotaur gladiators, and watched by an approving audience of spectral onlookers, they prove their mettle.

Session 26 - The Would-Be Kings
The party is teleported to what is presumably the Mages' tower, and under polite questioning, an impassive Paldemar, with his two cohorts Emerjis and Passeract, admits only to having imported flurock from the Atoll for academic study. In his hand, the strange mineral deforms and warps, but Paldemar is nonchalant about this unusual behaviour. In respect of the duergar, he accepts the party's offer to infiltrate their stronghold and return with intelligence, and gives them directions to a secret underground passge through a massive complex of Cisterns. The party encounters a mad vagrant holding court over one of the chambers below, but is able to placate him enough so that he provides them with a map through the complex.

Session 25 - Commerce and Diplomacy
As the party wait for Orontor to return with news of their meeting with Paldemar, they learn more of Erathis from the local clergy, and go on a shopping trip to a duergar-run trading post. Within, the shop-keeper's offer to buy Berend from them is unceremoniously rejected. Xavier makes a secret trip to the duergar to offer to buy back the slaves they have recently bought, but the answer is no, and he returns empty-handed.

Session 24 - Exit Krand
The party prevails over Krand in the smoking ruins of his residence, and finds more papers in his office revealing he has trafficked in both Kingsblade and an elven child, who fetched a much higher sum than the officers from a buyer called "Arak". Finding and rescuing Rendil, the party returns to Orontor who fishes for information on any "unusual packages" they might have found, and asks for a copy of Krand's accounts to take for study.

Session 23 - Hobgoblins on High
After dispatching the slave master, an interrogation of the surviving hobgoblins reveals that Matorna-Reevash was captured by the Bloodreavers, but has been sold on to the duergar. Not liking what they've seen, the party decides to clean the place out, and engages Krand, the leader of the Bloodreavers, in his residence hidden high above the Seven-Pillared Hall.

Session 22 - Blood for Blood
Meeting stiff goblinoid resistance, the party pushes into the Chamber of Eyes, where the Bloodreavers have made their lair. Slave-master Lobkorr the Strangler falls before them, and they uncover a connection between the mercenaries and an underground race of dwarves called duergar. On their person, they find evidence of previous transactions for slaves, as well as of something called a "necrotech coffin".

Session 21 - Faces of Saruun
A put-upon Orontor offers the company honest work in the way of uncovering the connection between the Bloodreavers and Paldemar, the leader of the mages. Elumai barters a meeting with Paldemar as part-payment for the mission, and on the way out they're joined by dragonborn Warlord Xavier and eladrin wizard Azurami, two travellers on a mission to uncover the fate of a Kingsblade named Matorna-Reevash, whose caravan they happened upon a few days ago up in the world. Following Rendil's tracks out of the Hall and into the labyrinth of tunnels, the party arrives at the Bloodreavers' hide-out.

Session 20 - The Seven-Pillared Hall
The party arrives at the Seven-Pillared Hall and rescues a young halfling named Rendil Halfmoon from a sticky fate at the hands of the Bloodreavers, a band of mercenaries which the company have dealt with before. Rendil agrees to track one of the released hobgoblins back to their lair. In the Hall itself, the party uncovers a historical connection to an ancient minotaur empire, avoids trouble with a local ogre, and makes the acquaintance of Orontor, one of the Mages of Saruun.

Session 19 - Once More Into the Depths
Interrogating a subdued Penelo, the party discovers that he has himself been set-up by Royt to take the fall for off-the-books export trade which the two of them have been running for years. He can tell them little of the flurock or the feline couriers, other than that they pay well for the mineral. The party hands him over to the Mayor for his own protection, and pursues the couriers into the mine. The journey takes them deep into the Underdark until they emerge into a round tunnel, well-lit and well-travelled, with people of all races passing to and fro. Accosting a halfling merchant, he reveals that the tunnel leads to the Seven-Pillared Hall, an underground trading post under the jurisdiction of the Mages of Saruun.

Session 18 - Cats and Sacks
An inebriated Jillonto-Ressar lets slip that Lord Riva is himself a guest of the Mayor, and is persuaded to give up his Kingsblade token, a key which can open many doors. That evening, they decide to infiltrate the warehouse and find out what's going on, and observe a meeting between Penelo and strange, grey-furred feline humanoids, who are receiving a shipment of the strange rainbow-coloured ore. Berend loses patience and interrupts the meeting, causing the feline creatures to flee; Jonas gives chase across the rooftops of the town but decides against chasing them onto Goffer's Ledge, a disused mine to which they retreat.

Session 17 - All's Fair
The party returns to the surface and a delighted Asimuth Royt pays them their reward for the investigation and rescue. He commissions them to look into his suspicions that the Mayor of Crow's Atoll, Dewey Crow, is at the root of a conspiracy to curtail the rights of the Prospector's Union, and points them in the direction of one of his men, Penelo Greentack, whom he is convinced is involved. Penelo is spied bribing guards at a warehouse before a large wagon train laden with unknown goods moves out. Mord, meanwhile, is smitten with the noble Miss Crow, and begins the arduous process of wooing her.

Session 16 - Torog's Gladiators
Searching for two missing miners, the party happens upon a fighting pit around which dozens of onlookers of various races are watching the hapless prisoners fend off a pair of kruthiks. They leap to the rescue, saving one of the men in the process, and are helped by two of the onlookers, an aloof human rogue named Jonas and a half-elf paladin of Bahamut, Finial, only survivors of a doomed expedition into the Underdark. A tentative friendship is struck.

Session 15 - Crow's Atoll
Riva's caravan, with its contingent of Kingsblade led by Captain Jillonto-Ressar, travels east on the King's Road with little fanfare and even less trouble. On the way, the adventurers learn more of their host and of the Court of Cloaks... and of each-other. After three days travel, the caravan arrives at The Gash, a massive star-shaped canyon in the Plain, and takes a stomach-churning tram-ride to the trading hub and mining town of Crow's Atoll. There, they trade their goods, engage in a painful spot of gambling, and take on a commission from the local union to investigate a recent attack on the diggers in Mine 6. Deep in the mine, the party discovers that the miners, in digging a seam of strange, multi-coloured rock called flurock, had inadvertantly delved their way into a troglodyte lair.

Session 14 - A Gnome in Hand
At a party laid on in their honor, the party realises that Valthrun has become something of a scape-goat for Winterhaven's recent troubles, and that two local ne'er-do-wells have spread vicious gossip about the company itself to a passing bard. Lord Riva is revealed as the instigator of the celebration, and the powerful mage reveals that he taken something of a liking to the company, and that by association he thinks they can do each-other a lot of good. The adventurers agree to join his caravan heading east to Emerandes, but not before taking a time-out to explore a nearby dig-site where rumours abound that archaeologist-of-ill-repute Douvan Stahl has found no-less than the skeleton of a dragon! They rescue the hapless gnome from a group of wandering brigands, and he sheepishly admits that it was they who found the site, not him, and that all he knows is they shipped a cart-load of very heavy goods to someone called "Saruun". Early the following day, the company sets off east.

Session 13 - The Rift
In an underground temple devoted to Orcus, the company engages in deadly combat with Kalarel as he attempts to tear open a rift to a powerful nexus of demonic energies in the Shadowfell. Lethal undead and powerful magics batter the party, but their actions against Keegan have weakened the cultist and he is defeated, dragged screaming through the rift before it is closed. The adventurers collect their bounty, do their utmost to temporarily seal the portal, and retreat back through the catacomb, where the remaining undead, pathetically brainless without their controlling master, are swiftly put out of their misery. Clues on the path back to Winterhaven do not speak well of Eilian's fate.

Session 12 - Bloodletting
In a disused underground kiln, a grotesque nest of undead meets its end on the sharp edge of the party's fury. Eilian, upon waking, demands to be released and retreats alone back into the basement of the Keep above; his saviours, meanwhile, push on into a cathedral of darkness, facing down Kalarel's lieutenants and poised at a well of blood to confront the scion of Orcus himself.

Session 11 - Eilian the Bold
The company persuades Eilian to accompany them to the Keep, and perhaps put his demons to rest once and for all. Unfortunately they discover that Sir Keegan doesn't seek redemption at all, as much as to extinguish the last of his bloodline from the world. In a tense battle, the adventurers defeat the traitorous knight, and save the old farmer's life. Carrying his unconscious body, they delve through the seal and into the catacomb.

Session 10 - Valthrun the not-so-Magnificent
The party is joined by Mord, a studious dwarven warrior with delusions of librarianship. Elumai receives a sending from Valthrun, who has sealed himself in his tower apparently to protect himself from being arrested by Lord Riva, who is waiting him out. Valthrun promises her important information if only she would help "open the back door" in the graveyard. Uncovering a circle of glyphs, the party successfully opens a portal to Valthrun's tower.

Valthrun sheepishly admits that he is guilty of trading his arcane expertise to the highest bidders (exactly the crime Riva has charged him with, and apparently running contrary to the mage's remit), and that he sold information to a man called Kalarel -- a name familiar to the adventurers, having been mentioned in a letter on Irontooth's person -- on both Sir Keegan and the the kind of magical barrier they found under the Keep. The following morning, the company wakens to a commotion in the streets outside Valthrun's tower... only to find that the tower itself has gone!

Session 9 - Keegan's Goals
Uncovering a grand underground chapel and paying it the proper respect yields an audience with a dessicated undead knight who introduces himself as Sir Keegan, and calls the party to account. Satisfied with their answers, he reveals that he was part of the Order that constructed the Keep, but unbeknownst to them, its foundations were laid on a deep catacomb devoted to the Prince of Undead, Orcus. Tormented by dreams sent to him by the demon lord, Keegan killed his family and many of the knights in the Keep in an episode of murderous insanity. He begs the company to find the last of the Keegan blood-line, that they might stand in judgement over him and allow him to move on.

Frustrated by a strange energy field which blocks further ingress into the catacomb, the party returns to Winterhaven and, using Lord Padraig's library, they uncover historical records that show the remaining knights of the Bright Hand, after sealing Keegan in the Keep, broke ground on Winterhaven many hundreds of years ago. Further clues lead them to the possibility that Eilian, a drunk and tormented old farmer whose acquaintaince they made previously, may be the last of the Keegan line still in the town.

Session 8 - Into the Cold Depths
The party pushes ever-deeper into the Keep, uncovering a long-buried and maze-like crypt infested with ghouls. Though it's their first encounter with the shambling undead, they emerge unscathed.

Session 7 - Grime Team
The party uncovers evidence that the goblins within the Keep are searching for more artifacts from the Order of the Bright Hand, and dispatches the last of the them before retreating to the surface for well-earned respite.

Session 6 - Splugg-powered
Interrogating a goblin prisoner yields intelligence on undead awaiting them in the deeper levels of the dungeon. The party uncovers old artifacts of a long-lost order of knights from Nerath called the "Bright Hand", and dispenses with more of the goblin infestation on their way to rescuing a pathetic specimen called Splugg. Taking advantage of a hidden entrance revealed to them by the grateful wretch, the party assails the leader of the goblins -- Belgrin -- and is victorious.

Session 5 - The Keep on the Shadowfell
Rond, under orders not to fraternise with the company, becomes aloof. Joined by warlock Corrash, the party decides to help Elumai with her mission here in Winterhaven, to chart the long-deserted tunnels of the nearby keep and return the information to her master. They follow her directions to a distant clearing deep in the forest, and amongst the ruins of the keep uncover a hidden entrance to a secret basement level. A cabal of goblinoids has made a lair for themselves within.

Session 4 - Old Clicky Feet
The desperate fight at the stone circle ends in near defeat, but Berend miraculously recovers from unconsciousness to slay Irontooth and win the day. Upon returning to Winterhaven, Rond is stricken with grief over Elumai's death, and the party makes the acquaintance of Lord Riva, a visiting mage of the Court of Cloaks, visiting Lord Padraig from distant Emerandes. He takes a keen interest in their story and -- much to their surprise -- performs the difficult and expensive ritual required to restore her to life. The party returns to Irontooth's lair and ransacks it for gold and magic.

Session 3 - New Friends and Strange Enemies
Brash over-confidence in the kobold lair leads to capture by the powerful leader of the kobolds, a hobgoblin named Irontooth. Only Elumai is able to escape, and persuades Rond, Captain of the Guard at Winterhaven, to help rescue her friends. Rond, clearly enamoured with the charming mage, backs her petition to the reluctant Lord Padraig, and a militia of guards and townsfolk eager to exact revenge on the kobolds is quickly raised. They attack just as the other members of the party are about to be sacrificed to a distant and sinister entity, which tears through from its own dimension and attacks...

Session 2 - Kobold Lair
Following a map given to them by the Captain of the Guard, the company strikes out east and soon finds the kobold lair, near a circle of stones by the river. Although the kobold shaman and his guards fall before them, one of the creatures escapes to warn their master. Elumai is able to activate the latent power of the stone circle to bolster the party.

Session 1 - Kobold Crawl
Four adventures -- eladrin wizard Elumai, dwarven fighter Berend, dwarven rogue Alarik, and dragonborn cleric Krakd -- emerge from the Arubisath Forest looking for fortune and glory. After dispatching a kobold ambush on the King's Road, they arrive at Winterhaven looking for work. Valthrun, the local wizard, puts them in touch with Lord Padraig, the Mayor, who employs the adventurers to clear out the local kobold infestation once and for all.

4ed Campaign -- Session 40 -- Sunday 31st January 2010

2010-02-08T04:33:00.001-08:00

In which standing in the way of Paldemar's ascension to his place amongst the Rockworms of Kworm exacts a bitter toll...

Roster (Party Level 7th)
Berend - Dwarven Fighter
Elumai - Eladrin Wizard
Finial - Half-elf Paladin
Matorna-Reevash (Human Kingsblade warrior, Finial's Companion)
Jonas - Human Rogue/Ranger

No time for talk, no time for subtlety. The party leaps blade-and-wand first to end this threat once-and-for-all, Matorna-Reevash howling for revenge as she leaps from the platform to attack the mages.

Paldemar is taken-aback by the attack -- "The interlopers from the Well? Here?!" -- and shouts a convoluted command word into the air. Immediately the Necrotech Nodes crackle into life, and the patches of metal hull encircled by each of the arrays begins to glow first red, then white-hot. "Namotath's children will call to their father today," he spits at them, backing away, his fingers crackling with unchecked energies, "and there is nothing you or anyone can do about it!".

Given the strangeness of their surroundings, the party decides to split their attentions. Matorna-Reevash, Jonas, and Finial slide down the metal bowl to attack Paldemar, Berend moves off to the other side of the room to engage Passeract, and Elumai launches magic into the fray from the upper walkway while directing her Mage Hand in its attempts to free the nearest mage, a sickly-looking woman hanging from her hands in blood-soaked robes. "Please..." she gasps, flecks of blood on her lips, "... don't let him... give me... to the worms!"

Paldemar's attacks are powerful if mundane, pulsing beads of force that smash into their targets, and clouds of lightning that electrocute the air. Passeract on the other hand seems to reek of some kind of inner pestilence, emitting from his mouth clouds of noxious spores that burn the lungs or, from his fingers, wisps of freezing cold that wrap the muscles in fatigue. Still the party is more than able to withstand, and in the first few seconds of the fight is absolutely devastating, raining blows down on both exhausted mages, struggling to get distance on the company in order to unleash their own attacks.

Of course Paldemar still has a surprise or two up his sleeve, as the patch of metal hull within one of the Necrotech circles above suddenly buckles and gives way under the heat. A column of worms two-feet thick smashes with enormous pressure into the base of the sphere, splashing up in a fountain of worms sending thousands of the tiny creatures spattering down all over the room. Now the purpose of Paldemar's prisoners becomes horrifically clear, as two of the helpless mages in direct line of the eruption are consumed by a shroud of worms several inches thick. Their choked, pitiful screams are cut abruptly short as they fall from their shackles into the writhing pool which has formed at the room's base.

As quickly as Tumerex's ingress into the vessel is permitted, it is cut off as a shimmering black-purple wall of force blinks into being between the Nodes. Now another sound can be heard, a numbing buzz of static that vibrates everybody's skulls. "His children!" Paldemar gasps, pressing his palms to his forehead. "Do you hear them?! They are calling for their father!" Paldemar's victorious laughter continues unabated as the adventurers chase him up from the pit of worms onto the walkway, raining blow after blow into his defenses. He surely cannot last much longer.

Meanwhile Elumai's efforts to free one of the mages have succeeded. The woman is barely conscious, but manages to bring supporting fire in the form of weak Magic Missiles into the fight. Elumai turns her Mage Hand's attention to another of the conscious prisoners as she unleashes the full fury of the elements at the main fight, now taking place perilously close to the edge of a terrible fate in the writhing mass of worms below.

She shouts a warning as two half-consumed zombies heave themselves from the pit. They are what is left of the mages, much of their flesh eaten away by worms thrown into a frenzy by whatever malignant process Paldemar has put them through, skin and bone crawling with tiny maggot-like creatures. One of them shambles towards Berend, punching at the dwarf and tearing at any exposed skin it can find, trying desperately to infect him with the flesh-eating worms, while the other climbs the pit towards the rest of the party.

Then a few things happen in quick succession. The first is that the next node gives way, spewing yet more worms into the chamber and turning almost the entire bottom half of the room into a sea of writhing, coiling worm-flesh, nipping at Berend's heels as he struggles to defend himself against the combined attacks of both Passeract and the subsumed wormling. At the same time, the static hum in the air grows a magnitude in strength, bringing several people in the room to their knees. And finally, Paldemar at last succumbs to the focused attacks of the party.

Eyes wide, he clutches his stomach, which has begin to undulate disconcertingly. "Namotath... I am your servant..." he gurgles, the sound coming out of his throat far from human, "...father, I come..." With that, he rolls off the edge of the platform, his entire torso bursting open in a tangled knot of slimy, thick-bodied annelids, and disappears into the pool of worms below, which starts to bubble and seethe like a turbulent ocean.

The company has no option but to deal with the immediate threat however. Three more mages have been consumed by the second eruption, and are even now clawing their way into the light. Jonas, having taken something of a beating himself, eyes the pool below and begins to retreat towards the door, shouting to the others to do the same, but they are resolute, pulling their foes together for mutual advantage. Soon two of the wormlings have been obliterated, and Passeract is felled... just as Paldemar -- or whatever he has become -- returns to the fight.

Exploding upwards from the worm-pool, the mage has been utterly transformed. A thick, trunk-like body uncoils itself into the air and three spined tentacles lash out from the pit, smashing down onto the walkway with enormous force. A long neck unfurls, with a bulbous head on which is drawn the mage's contorted face... whether in the last throes of agony or ecstacy, it's impossible to tell. Berend barely has time to react before one of the tentacles wraps around his midriff and uncoils like a wound spring, hurling him against the wall with bone-crushing force. One of the other tentacles slams into Matorna-Reevash, breaking bones, and as she staggers back, it entwines her body.

Paldemar -- or whatever he is now -- shows little remorse. As the party brings the last of their energies to bear on his shifting form, he smashes Matorna-Reevash again, whipping her clear across the room into a bloodied, unconscious heap. The rest of the company are fading fast, the attrition of the fight having taken its toll. Elumai has no choice but to put herself in harm's way, and pays for her bravery by being hurled right through the open door. She skids to a halt just inches from certain death in the wall of worms outside, her life bleeding onto the metal floor.

With two of the company out of action, the fight turns into a grim struggle for survival. Paldemar is suffering heavily under continued assault from the remaining members of the party, but every one of them knows that he is capable of killing them with almost one blow. Jonas has already taken advantage of the boon granted to him by Vecna, and retreats to the entranceway where he can snipe the worm-thing with at least some protection from the door; Berend and Finial stand side-by-side, the dwarf's axe imbued with Bahamut's blessings, carving swathes of flesh from the mage's bloated form.

On such knife edges do battles turn. Paldemar, close to victory but perhaps unable to contain the furies within him, flails wildly at his attackers even though he now has control of all three of his tentacles. The wormlings, consumed from within by the worms and battered from without by the company's weapons, have already fallen... and finally, at the very limits of endurance and closer to outright defeat than they have ever been before, the party manages to cleave the transformed mage's head from his body. The giant worm collapses into the churning pit and sinks out of sight.

Utterly exhausted, those who are left standing rush to the aid of their friends. Matorna-Reevash is dead, her smashed body long-since having succumbed to its injuries. Finial lays a light hand on her burned face, closing her eyes while muttering a gentle benediction. He is however able to restore Elumai before her wounds get the better of her, and the party, once more reduced to four members, pauses to survey the scene of their victory.

Little has changed in the spherical chamber. The static buzzing in the air hasn't diminished, and the two gaping holes in the hull reveal the medium of worms outside, held at bay only by the magic of the Necrotech Nodes... but for who-knows how long. The third array has gone dormant, presumably because the worm it was intended for, thanks to the company's previous efforts in the Well, was never birthed. A quick search of the chamber is certainly a risk that pays dividend: a chest with Paldemar's fortune -- over 2000 gold -- is easily recovered.

Unwilling to stay and rest, and even more unwilling to risk another dangerous jaunt through the worm corridor, Elumai carefully enacts the ritual necessary to relocate the unfixed end of the Worm's Portal. The rite is expensive, requiring her to obliterate several of their unused magical items, but completely successful, and under the stern gaze of Whatever intelligence once more observes their journey, they return, victorious, to the Seven-Pillared Hall...

4ed Campaign -- Session 39 -- Sunday 24th January 2010

2010-02-05T04:28:00.000-08:00

In which there is always another plan at work, Paldemar's plane-hopping vessel turns out not to be his at all, and the party goes for a little swim...

Roster (Party Level 7th)
Berend - Dwarven Fighter
Elumai - Eladrin Wizard
Finial - Half-elf Paladin
Matorna-Reevash (Human Kingsblade warrior, Finial's Companion)
Jonas - Human Rogue/Ranger

Back on the upper landing outside the shrine, two doors remain unopened. Sneaking a peak inside the second wooden door, Jonas spies what looks a laboratory, and the words are barely out of his mouth before Elumai surges past. Luckily for her, the room doesn't make her pay for such recklessness!

The room is indeed a laboratory, but one from which the decorative inner skin of polished wooden paneling has been completely stripped, revealing the curved steel of the outer shell. A square of inch-thick iron, which has been bolted to the floor, bulges dramatically inward at the center, a hasty repair that obviously once kept something dangerous at bay, and around the room, the outer wall also shows signs of attack from the outside. Another wooden door provides egress from the other side of the room. What catches Elumai's eye, however, are the bookshelves lining the wall, the massive oak desk strewn with papers, and a huge map, several feet long, pinned opposite.

The room turns out to be a treasure trove of information. The bookshelves are an arcanist's dream, harbouring the details of several rituals Elumai has never seen before, and these are removed and stored for safe-keeping. The map seems to be a rubbing of some kind, etched in black on thick, greasy paper, describing what looks like an intricate network of roads, towns, and cities. Upon closer examination, however, they're not roads but portal networks; not cities, but other dimensions. If it is to be believed, it is nothing less than a map of the planes themselves, a find of incalcuable value. With Jonas' delicate touch, they are able to remove it, roll it up, and store it in their Bag of Holding with only minimal damage.

The desk isn't dangerous and provides rich pickings:

- A sheaf of accounts, detailing the tithes paid over the last year by many dozens of different people in the Hall.
- Three envelopes, all addressed to "Paldemar of the Mages of Saruun", and each stamped with slightly different gold-leaf seals bearing a coat of arms ringed by unfamiliar runes (the party identifies the heraldry as harking back to one of the first merchant houses of the Court of Coin, the mercantile arm of the King's power-base). Within each is the same letter, signed variously by both Paldemar on behalf of the mages, and one of three others (Drenko Parfoot, Jemma Ravenwood, and Thomas Shaw). The letter reads:

"We the undersigned, Hereby swear to provide all necessary aid and succour to the glorious and hallowed journey of the WALKER ANTECEDENT as He treads the land returning His gifts to the blameless children."

Who this "Walker" might be, or what gifts he is returning, remain a mystery at this time.
- A whole slew of notes, indexes, references, quotes, and diagrams which, taken together, describe the intellectual journey travelled by the mages to discover a way into Tumerex. There's too much information to parse without a more thorough reading, but one name in relation to the vessel -- or whatever it is -- that they're in hints at its origin: it was captained by one Reverend Tarq Frushante, who judging by his title and other clues, hailed from the lost kingdom of Nerath.
- What look like engineering plans, describing a spherical vessel with three nodes attached to the inside. Circles radiating from these nodes suggest they're being deliberately concentrated, but none of the adventurers is sufficiently versed in the methods of planar engineering to discern much more than that.

The door opposite, which judging by the small square of unfaded varnish in its midst must have once had a plaque of some kind screwed to it, leads to what looks like a berth. The large round room has an iron four-poster with dusty mattress and bed-clothes (old but impeccably made) and a writing desk, and more faded squares around the walls suggest that several pictures or other decorations which once hung in here havd been removed.

The desk drawers are open and empty, long-since ransacked, and only two things of interest are to be found: some kind of strange airlock mechanism which seems designed to let something small safely out of the vessel (or in), and a portrait, pain-stakingly notched into the wall by the headboard, of a beautiful halfling woman, her hair piled high on her head and a necklace of diamonds around her neck. Clearly, she was important to the artist.

Moving on, only the strong bulkhead door from the upper landing remains. Spinning the wheel-lock, the steel bolts snap back and the door swings open to reveal a short corridor, ribbed with metal. Lying to one side, his lower-half metamorphosed into a stubby worm-like appendage, its flattened end flocked with blood and bone, is the corpse of what looks like a mage, although it isn't Passeract or anyone else they recognise. His dead face is contorted in agony, and the shadow of insanity has fallen over his eyes.

At the end of the corridor, they heave open another similar door and a slightly disconcerting sight greets them on the other side. There is another short section of corridor, but it abruptly disappears into a slithering, squelching wall of worms, sliding slowly past and completely blocking the way forward. However, it appears that this problem has faced others before them, because a thick rope is tied to an iron ring bolted to one side; the other end disappears into the worms, pulled off to one side and buffeted by the inexorable current. Nearby, several leather straps like belts are hanging invitingly from the ceiling.

It seems clear what must be done, but not one of the adventurers is happy about it. Jonas seems certain he'll be able to move much more quickly through the worms than anyone else, and volunteers to go first, strapping himself into one of the belts and notching the other end to the rope. Taking a deep breath, he plunges in.

The feel of the raw worm-stuff against his flesh is vile. Some latch on to his flesh as they slide by, nibbling at his skin and releasing blood which encourages more of the creatures to follow-suit. Struggling to maintain his composure, he kicks his legs against the thick medium and pulls himself along the rope, slipping through Tumerex as if it were nothing more than a difficult swim. After just a few seconds of this, he tumbles out the other side in an oozing heap to find the other end of the corridor, another wheel-locked door blocking the way.

Behind him, his friends start to make their own way through the obstacle, most with much less success. Buffeted by the current of worms, and repulsed by the feel of the creatures swarming over their skin and through their clothes and armour, it's all too easy to panic and lose grip on the rope. Berend, however, is unphazed, making up with stone-willed fortitude what he lacks in speed. When it becomes clear that those behind him are struggling to make headway, he turns around to help them, essentially pulling many of the party in his wake using the various ropes they had tied between them. Eventually all of them collapse, alive but gasping for breath and coughing worms from their throats, on the other side.

Once they've collected themselves, they spin the lock and open what turns out to be the final door in their journey. Within is a huge spherical chamber, entirely of grey metal, with a walkway along the inner circumference and two platforms stretching out over the center. Chains have been strung from the upper dome, dozens of them, and many of these chains have injured and barely conscious mages hanging from them. Attached to the upper dome are three separate Necrotech Node arrays, arranged in circular patterns, and down below, deep in conversation around a reclined metallic chair bolted to the very bottom of the sphere, are Paldemar and Passeract.

The two mages look much as they did the last time the party saw them. Paldemar, the architect of the ambitious plan to bring the great Rockworms back into the World, is an unassuming mage, with a mop of greying hair and a goatee streaked with silver; he still wears the silver cloak slung over one soldier, and his midriff is still entwined in the variously-coloured strips of ribbon and leather. Passeract has changed only insofar as his head is now shrouded in very similar wrappings, many of them stained with dirty-looking liquids.

The adventurers cannot risk Paldemar's plan coming to fruition before their very eyes. They waste time with neither stealth nor parlay, and leap to the attack...

4ed Campaign -- Session 38 -- Sunday 17th January 2010

2010-01-29T04:34:00.000-08:00

In which Paldemar's hiding place is finally uncovered, the fate of one of his friends and several of his foes is discovered, and the party once again gets the attention of Someone they shouldn't...

Roster (Party Level 7th)
Berend - Dwarven Fighter
Elumai - Eladrin Wizard
Finial - Half-elf Paladin
Matorna-Reevash (Human Kingsblade warrior, Finial's Companion)
Jonas - Human Rogue/Ranger

The party has little choice but to support Berend's decision to confront Brugg, given that the dwarf is already striding purposefully towards the ruins, but the ogre himself is too stubborn or too stupid to avoid the fight. Picking up his greatclub, he moves to defend himself against the adventurers, but standing on his own, he is quickly beaten into sulky submission by their attacks and has little option but to obey their orders to help the locals rebuild the Hall. Led off, the party quietly wonders if he'll see the morning, given the looks some of the folks that have gathered around the fight are throwing at him.

Now there is nothing for it but to travel to Paldemar's hide-out, wherever it may be. The teleporter works flawlessly, albeit with the same gut-wrenching side-effect, and they arrive in the same circular meeting room in which Paldemar held audience with them what seems like an age ago: stone walls with metallic porthole-like shutters, flagstone floors, and simple stone benches arranged in a circle. In the background, the same slushy, churning noise can still be heard.

Without illusions of propriety and/or the danger of being caught to stop them, the adventurers quickly shatter the locks on one of the portholes and swing it open. Outside, held back by a sheet of thick glass, is an impenetrable wall of worms, a sea of them, sliding past right-to-left as if in a great current... or as if the room, and whatever structure it is attached to, were moving through them.

Every colour and shape is visible: smooth-bodied annelids like thick earthworms, flat glistening nematodes, stringy flatworms, bristly and multi-coloured marine specimens, all folding and collapsing over eachother as they slide past. As they watch, a huge chitinous shell thuds against the window before once again being subsumed. It would seem that Paldemar's recluse isn't in the vicinity of the Seven-Pillared Hall at all, but deep inside Tumerex itself!

The door out of the room is ajar. Outside, a small landing offers two ways forward. Ahead, the door to the other audience chamber is closed; to the right, a simple wooden-panelled door bulges outward from its splintered frame as if something massive has impacted the other side.

The party decides to check the audience chamber first, and finds a scene of carnage. The room is blackened with ash as if a great fire has burned within, and the now-inert teleportation portal inscribed into the stone floor is caked with the incinerated remains of several people. Careful examination reveals three bodies... and interestingly, what is left of one of the human skulls shows signs of mutilation within the eye socket. This recalls to Jonas's mind the group of Vecna-worshippers he encountered earlier in the Hall, who had claimed that their "patron" had abandoned them. Could this be what is left of them? There are subtle signs that one or more bodies have been removed, as well.

The third door from the lower landing is carefully inspected but doesn't seem dangerous. Wrenching it open, the party is shocked as the remains of Paldemar's cohort, Emerjis, flops out onto the floor. The mage's body is almost literally flattened, having been smashed against the door by a massive impact. Not only that, but his right arm has been somehow transmuted into a slimy worm-like appendage which, as they watch, cracks open a toothy maw and begins to gnaw at the remains of his shoulder in a bid to free itself. Revolted, the adventurers hack it to shreds and move on.

A stairwell from the lower landing leads to another panelled door, this one literally hanging off its hinges, and within, a large circular landing with three other exits: two are wooden panelled, the other is a hefty metallic hatch sealed with bolts operated by a heavy-duty wheel-lock. Thin slimy trails criss-cross the room, evidence of inhuman passage.

Ignoring the metal door for now, the party's attention is turned to the south. This panelled door is closed and locked, its edges rimed with black and the smell of burnt flesh coming from within. Inside, they find some kind of shrine. Like all the other rooms in this place it is circular, with a stone floor but this time with walls of polished wood. A metallic frieze of a giant skull dominates the wall opposite the door, one eye glinting in the light from a half-dozen candles on the altar before it, the other nothing more than a shadowy niche. A similar image has been carved into the stone of the floor.

Near the wall-mounted skull, two burned figures hunch together, breathing rapidly. From behind, the party can see bleached white skull beneath the tattered remains of their scalps, and they also notice, embroidered into what's left of one of the creatures' cloaks, the pattern of a white skull. This categorically identifies them as members of the cult which Jonas had encountered previously in the Hall. Three other bodies, burned beyond all recognition of humanity, lie in a blackened heap near the door.

The creatures near the skull respond immediately to the party's entrance, standing upright and turning to reveal hideous, blackened skin stretched over bleached bone. The candles sputter and fizz into brightness, and the single eye of the skull seems to blink at the intruders as the undead shamble towards the door. At the same time, the three immolated bodies struggle to their feet, greasy flesh sliding off bone as they are compelled to attack.

The fight is hot and close-quartered. Jonas darts into the room but is adamant in his refusal to actually attack the undead lest further desecration of their bodies lay a curse on his own flesh; still, he's able to clamber to a high vantage and scatter the contents of the carved-out eye-socket -- a bottle of wine, an envelope, and other seemingly mundane artifacts -- to the floor.

The two more powerful undead unleash potent draining attacks which rob the company of the ability to use their most powerful attacks, while the three lesser creatures simply rip the flesh from them, waves of enervating heat sapping their strength. Not only that but the adventurers are dismayed to find the flesh of their enemies knitting itself back into existence before their very eyes, a regenerative effect which they're unable to curtail for the entire duration of the fight.

One by one the risen abominations fall to their blades and magic, but as the last of them falls to the cold floor, it raises one hand as if suing for peace. "Enough!" it rasps. "Is it victory against me you seek, or against the mages who have shunned my master? Do not choose hastily!" Against all instinct, the adventurers pause their attack to listen to the creature's offer.

"Paldemar and his wretched cohorts fear nothing of betraying my master, the Keeper of Secrets, the Scepter of the Dead... They have already raised two of the great worms -- you have seen them! -- and seek to call their father, the great Rockworm Namotath, from his age-old entropy within Tumerex.

"It is that cursed disease of magic which has allowed them to come this far, and it must be stopped! My master, He Who hears all that is unsaid, demands it! He will offer each of you a boon, and the price is almost nothing to mortals such as yourself... a single secret, delectable to His ear, is all he commands..."
-- Enigma of Vecna to the adventurers in Paldemar's Recluse.

After a few moments of thought amomgst the party, only Jonas is prepared to take such a risk, and receives his boon: a taste of Vecna's power which he may unleash in the final struggle against Paldemar. Contemptuous of those who refused the God's generous offer, the Enigma crumbles to ash before their eyes.

A search of the room reveals a splintered section of wall, and behind it, a smooth metallic outer lining, perhaps the exterior shell of the structure. The innocuous-looking artifacts scattered by Jonas are of passing interest: a small, carefully wrapped strip of jerky; a dusty old bottle of wine, its cork sealed within a wire cage; a handkerchief with a woman's perfume still strong upon it; and a letter, sealed and apparently never sent. It reads: "Talandra, with this love I can never speak, through my actions will your affections be sought. Fear not for the soul of your lost and departed, for in his final moments did he truly know the face of his god." (Superior knowledge on their part identifies Talandra as the daughter of one the very first Pale Kings, Elvon Rax.)

The candles also turn out to be Everburning, and are dispersed amongst the party. Outside, the remainder of Paldemar's hidden fortress awaits exploration...

4ed Campaign - Session 37 - 15th November 2009

2010-01-20T13:15:00.000-08:00

In which half a victory is better than a defeat, the plane of Tumerex turns out to be much, much worse than it sounds, and the final assault on Paldemar's plan begins...

Roster (Party Level 7th)
Berend - Dwarven Fighter
Elumai - Eladrin Wizard
Finial - Half-elf Paladin
Jonas - Human Rogue/Ranger

The fight gradually begins to center around Murkelmoor as one-by-one he is stripped of his defenders. The Barlgura falls to a combination of attacks from Xavier, Finial, and Elumai, allowing them to turn their attention to its master, but Berend falls foul of Murkelmoor's magic and is lifted bodily into the roiling clouds above, suffering at the claws of whatever creatures lurk inside.

Across the room, the mages desperately attempt to conjure a means to halt Matorna-Reevash in her tracks, and although they are briefly successful, the Kingsblade's compulsion is simply too strong for them, and she is able to activate the second urn. Like the first, it births a Necrotech-infused worm which screams up into the blackness above and disappears, leaving the urn cracked and lifeless. Murkelmoor screams up to the heavens in triumph: "Namotath! Your children awake!", while Matorna-Reevash, collapsing in pain from the feedback, struggles painfully to her feet. Even turned to the affairs of her enemies, her will is strong, and she begins staggering across the room to the third and final urn.

The remaining Evistro have converged on Jonas and Finial, while Murkelmoor is barely managing to keep the party at bay by unleashing curses which cause them great pain if they take even a step towards him. Spotting an opportunity, Elumai attempts to extinguish the third urn by deploying a Dispel Magic, a tactic which seems to work, causing the urn to sputter out. The cloud above immediately starts to thin, giving Berend valuable breathing room and allowing him to break the magical choke hold and drop back to the ground.

With Azurami successfully holding the injured Matorna-Reevash at bay with Thunderwave, and the remaining demons dropping beneath the combined onslaught of Xavier and Jonas, the question becomes not one of victory, but whether Murkelmoor will be able to kill any of the party before he is dispatched. The fight is long and bitter, but in the end, the warlock falls alone.

Matorna-Reevash is immediately released from the his control. As she regains her strength, pain gives way to anger. She raises one quivering hand to her face, touching the crisped and blackened flesh there, and screams to no-one and everyone, "What did that bastard do to me?!"

She turns desperately to Finial, grabbing his hand. "They won't allow me back into the service after this! Look at me, paladin-- impure! Don't let them bury me in some god-forsaken dungeon! I have to atone, free myself of this stain! Whatever God you serve, you have to help me!" Finial takes her aside and spends a few moments settling her into calm. He assures her he won't allow any harm to come to her while Bahamut watches over them.

Meanwhile, the spoils of their victory must be claimed. Murkelmoor has a whole selection of necklaces around his neck, many of them extremely valuable, and one of them, an Amulet of Protection +2, even more so. In addition a vial of residuum-like dust catches Elumai's eye, but after study, she finds it to be something more than a simple stock of reagent. Although she doesn't know it by name, she has found the Dust of Worm's Jaunt, a powerful concoction that allows the user to inscribe a portal to some other, fixed location, and teleport there using the pocket dimension of Tumerex, the Plane of Worms, as a medium.

Although Elumai surmises that even combined with Azurami's expertise, they might not yet have the inner strength of will needed to build a tunnel through such a hideous place, they have no choice but to try. After a tense preparation, the portal is inscribed on the stone floor of the sanctum. The stone ripples like water, and a clutch of small, maggoty worms is disgorged onto the floor... but the ritual appears to have worked, for through the portal, they can see the unmistakable architecture of the Seven-Pillared Hall.

The party steps through. The transition is grotesque and smothering, like drowning in worms, and they all share the same feeling that something has watched them pass, a vast and cool intellect which now knows all of their names, but nevertheless, they emerge onto the pedestal at the heart of the Hall unscathed. However, the place is not how they left it.

It lies in ruins. Two huge tunnels have opened up into the cavern, one where the waterfall in the south wall used to be, and another to the east near the Dragon Door. The tunnels are rippled and glistening, much like the even larger tunnel that they first used to find Saruun Khel, and whatever emerged has done untold damage to almost every corner of the Hall, reducing familiar buildings like the Halfmoon into so much dust and rubble, before apparently retreating the way it had come. Much of the Hall now lies submerged under a foot of water, the frigid waters of the underground river which feeds the cisterns crashing untethered to the cavern floor.

Picking amongst the devastation, stunned survivors recount how two massive worms exploded from the rock and did all of this damage in just a couple of minutes, before being ordered by Paldemar, who had appeared at the portal plinth, to retreat. It's clear that there is no longer any love lost between the people and their arcane overseers, who they now see as the purveyors of the latest doom to be brought upon them.

While Jonas examines the remains of the teleporter and its guardian statuary, the rest of the party are attracted by a furtive Orontor, hiding inside a nearby pile of rubble. He beckons them over and begs them to help him escape... but the party is more interested in the information he posesses about Paldamar.

He tells them much of what they already know or have surmised. Paldemar has discovered that the strange mineral they know as flurock is actually the petrified flesh of one of the ancient Rockworms of Kworm, mythical creatures that are said to roam the inner core of the World. When all of his other efforts to revitalise the substance into life failed, he partnered with a group of Necrotech cultists in order to raise... not an army of worms, but one worm, the very beast which was worshipped by the minotaurs of Saruun Khel and whose flesh is petrified into the walls of the catacomb.

He doesn't know the fate of the other mages. He's convinced that Emerjis and Passeract were in on the scheme, but suspects that the others -- some of whom he had actually come to like! -- have been sacrified or killed. When asked why he alone escaped, he insists that he was sent away on a spurious diplomatic mission to the drow, but that his intuition told him not to leave the Hall.

"A final indignity! I wasn't even worth killing!"
-- Orontor to the party in the remains of the Seven-Pillared Hall

The adventurers are suspicious of this story, but he appears to be telling the truth. Before they can interrogate him further, however, they realise that their conversation has drawn a bit of a crowd... and they don't look happy.

Flanked by more than a dozen other people, a man named Bernold steps forward. He is slick with sweat, and his arm rests in a bloodied sling. "My son of two years is dead now! One life in exchange for another, I demand it!" His rhetoric soon turns the other battered civilians into a furious mob, with Orontor cowering behind the adventurers as his life hangs in the balance. However, there are few emotions that cannot be calmed by Finial's silver tongue, and with the help of his friends he gently talks the commoners away from thoughts of revenge and more towards the prospect of rebuilding their home, free from the influence of the mages and with all the treasures of the underdark theirs for the taking.

Orontor, however, remains unconvinced that the minute the party turns their back, he won't be strung from the nearest rafter. After providing the last morsel of information they need to assault Paldemar's recluse -- the portal password, Arrasnia -- he buries himself back in rubble to await their return.

Karma, it seems, has other plans than to let the adventurers leave just yet, for as the party moves to the portal, Berend catches sight of none other than Brugg, pushing a few battered civilians around and stealing from them what few morsels of food they have found in the shattered remains of the Halfmoon Inn. It's all the excuse Berend needs...

4ed Campaign - Session 36 - 18th October 2009

2009-10-22T04:32:00.000-07:00

In which the party stumbles upon some unexpected help, a missing Kingsblade is finally found, and the machinations of the Necrotech neophytes in the Well of Demons are finally revealed...

Roster (Party Level 7th)
Berend - Dwarven Fighter
Elumai - Eladrin Wizard
Finial - Half-elf Paladin
Jonas - Human Rogue/Ranger
Xavier - Dragonborn Warlord (guest)
Azurami - Eladrin Wizard (guest)

The Room of Recuperation makes for a pleasant holiday, but eventually the party has to move on.

Jonas pulls the circular doorway open and peers into the dim room beyond. It's large and oval, a huge lozenge cut out of whatever corner of the Plain hides the Well of Demons. Dominating the center of the room is what looks like an actual well, over twenty feet in diameter, with a lip carved to resemble the toothy maw of the Worm. Smokey grey murk boils within, alive with dramatic flashes of lightning.

Much of the rest of the room is plated in conjoined Necrotech Nodes, simple shapes interlocking to form a geometric pattern on walls, ceiling, and floor. Towards the far side, a mass of organic-looking machinery surrounds a large vat, crawling with spidery runes and festooned with tubes, probes, and other devices connected with the surrounding apparatus. Fluids of various colours pump through the machinery, which is obviously the source of the churning sound which has echoed throughout the Well and which, in here, is very loud indeed.

Near the machine, with his back to the Rogue, is a tall, thin figure. He's dressed in a shimmering cloak with a high, dramatic collar that hides all of his head except for a sweaty, bald pate. Opposite him, two forms are entrapped amongst a web of Necrotech; their eyes flicker with feeble consciousness, and with a shock of recognition Jonas realises they are his old comrades, Xavier and Azurami, helpless and at the mercy of the Necrotech operator.

He sneaks around the edge of the room to help them, but the web of growths fixing them to the wall does not relinquish them lightly. As he snaps a piece of the Necrotech away, spilling ichor all over the floor, some kind of alarm is emitted by the machine on the other side of the room, and the operator turns around to see what is causing the problem.

He's dressed in little more than a cloth smock beneath the cloak, but his head and neck are almost completely encased in Necrotech growths. Only one maddened, lidless, bloodshot eye stares out. "My work!" he screams. "Why must there always be interruptions to my work!" He points at Jonas, and the shadows come alive as several creatures (a Runespiral and two Gnaw demons) detach themselves from their hiding places and converge on him. The walls also begin to judder as if coming alive.

As soon as they hear the commotion, Jonas is quickly supported by the rest of the party, and it's enough to bring Xavier and Azurami out of their stupour as well. As they struggle to free themselves, Jonas leaps across the well to escape the demons converging on him and finds a dark corner from which he can assault the operator. Azurami's bonds crack open and she falls to the floor, but those encasing Xavier are much stronger, and he cannot break free.

As the demons lavish their attentions on his friends, Berend moves to intercept the operator. He's almost immediately laid low by a vicious psychic attack, however, and collapses immobile to the floor as his mind is assaulted by images of a Necrotech cage squeezing the life from him. Jonas takes the opportunity to strike out, and connects... only to feel his mind drawn into the evildoer's memories, tantalisingly close and potentially very useful. Jonas however is unwilling to risk his own sanity to uncover them and with a wrench he pulls himself back into reality, drained by the effort but whole once more. If nothing else, he returns with a name: Liddite Vakkram.

With Finial and the mages occupied by killing the demonic servitors, Jonas and Berend -- now recovered -- occupy themselves with Vakkram. Berend is much less averse to the risks of dipping his toes in the neophyte's memories, and upon dealing a telling blow finds himself

sitting sharing a drink with pale-faced Quincy, the only friend he ever wanted or needed, and now forever his master as well. "you're my triumph, Liddite, but together we have a new masterpiece to work. busy yourself with this contract, and the mage will be waiting for you when you get back"

Elsewhere Xavier finally manages to wrench himself free of the wall, and finding the battle with the demons effectively won, he turns his attention immediately to Liddite, charging across the room and landing a crippling blow upon

the human sneering in disgust from the other side of the table, the stink of wet fur thick on the air from the gnolls gathered around the meeting. "so many vats, so much unguent, so much money," he says, enjoying every moment of Murkelmoor's discomfort. "your master must be rich indeed to afford such attrocities."

Liddite is resilient and has a couple more tricks up his sleeve. Slashes from his jagged blade spring Necrotech blisters which entice his victims to scratch and claw at the wound, doing even more damage unless they can muster the will to resist. However, facing the combined onslaught of the whole company, he knows his fate is sealed. The final blow is dealt, and as insanity gives way to a last, restful calm, his body explodes, showering corrupted flesh in every direction.

With their enemies defeated, the party finally has a chance to welcome their old friends back into the fold. They have no memories after stepping through the portal, despite the passage of at least a couple of days within the Well, but they're quickly brought up-to-date.

Picking amongst the fleshy debris, the company finds a badge with a strange sigil, pocketing it for later use, and a pair of Shadowfell Gauntlets, somehow combined with the devices on Liddite's corpse as if powering them. Elumai takes those for now. Although deeply suspicious of the vat, it's a mystery in need of a solution and so, arranging themselves in a tight defensive formation, the party reluctantly turns their attention to it. They discover four chains dangling into the black, bubbling ichor and a pully system built into the machine. Azurami is able to decipher the controls, and activates the mechanism.

A cage, human-sized, is gradually ratcheted up from the depths, slowly revealing the form of a naked woman, apparently unconscious. As the contraption pulls clear, the black ichor runs like mercury from her skin and from the metal of the cage, leaving no blemish or stain in its wake. The woman is tall, comely, and muscular, a form built for fighting, and although the party is hesitant, Elumai conjures a mage hand to try and shake her awake, even as Jonas unhesitatingly leaps onto the apparatus to open the cage and get her free.

Her fugue turns out to be temporary, and she quickly comes to. Coughing black oil up from her throat, she looks about her and starts shaking the cage angrily. "Let me out of this thing you disgusting little man! I'm gonna tear out your---" and then, catching sight of the party, "Oh. You're not him."

Jonas helps her out, and Elumai offers her a blanket. She's hesitant at first, but Xavier, acting on a hunch, asks simply: "Matorna-Reevash I presume?", a revelation which sparks conversation about her husband, Jilonto-Ressar. The company is able to offer the coin he gave them as proof they have met, and Xavier's description of his encounter with the wreckage of the caravan, and the mission he accepted from the dying squire, is more than enough to persuade her that they probably aren't her enemies.

The story of what happened at the wagon, her links to Lord Riva and the truth behind the Necrotech coffin gradually come to light as they talk.

"I was instructed by Lord Riva -- my own master as well as my husband's -- to pick up that coffin thing from Lukktor. Well, not exactly. He told me to collect his niece, Diamorphia, and that she might need to be transported in some kind of magical device. That's what was waiting for me when I got there. Never seen anything like it.

"We were ambushed by two dozen or more hobgoblins. They'd clearly been tipped off and were waiting for us, but after I was captured it became obvious it was the coffin, or whatever you call it, that they actually wanted. They tried to get it open, but couldn't. Tortured me, but I had nothing to tell them. I didn't know how to get the damn thing to work any more than they did!

"Any way it turns out they were only middle-men. I was there when their buyer arrived. They called him the 'Broker Inbetween'. Powerful, you could tell. Not from around here, know what I mean? Didn't get a look at his face, though. He wore some kind of box over his head. Not normal.

"They tried to sell me to him, and I remember his answer clear as day: 'I have no contract for this woman, this entity, this nexus, and therefore no interest.' And then he was gone. Poof! Some kind of teleportation trick. Nothing I haven't seen before, to be honest."
-- Matorna-Reevash, telling her story in the Well of Demons.

As she tells her story, she searches the room as if looking for something, and then with a satisfied "Ah-ha!" punches her hand into the wall, ripping the plates off to reveal various items embedded into the Necrotech beneath. Among them are the remains of a suit of armour, clearly Kinsgblade in design, and a longsword, which she starts to don, but she's stopped by Xavier who isn't yet ready to trust her fully. She grudgingly admits she would do the same in his place.

"Hobbos were pissed, I'll tell you that. Thought they had some good merchandise, and a buyer. But you can't sell Kingsblade as slaves, see, we have a reputation for trouble and no-one'll touch us. And you can't ransom us to the Court. For one, they would never pay, and for two, you might as well stab yourself in the throat as soon as send the demand, because that's better than what they'll do to you when they find you. Which they will.

"Anyway, thought I was done for, except they kept me alive, toyed with me a few times. Then the gnolls attacked, I was brought down here and, well... I don't remember much else until this place. Watched Liddite grow this whole room out of a few puddles of that oil. Tried to taunt and bribe him into letting me go, but he said I was 'needed'. Amazed he could string together enough intelligent thought to make that decision himself, personally.

"I did find out who that fellow Murkelmoor was working with though. Seems he's partnered himself with a mage, Paldemar or some-such? Ring a bell?

"Now, can I put this armour on or what? I have to report to my superiors about what's going on down here. I've never heard of this 'Necrotech' before now, and it's the sort of thing I'd be told if it was known to the mages. Not to mention I've had a bad couple of weeks and I feel the strong and immediate need to kick some faces in for what they did to me."
-- Matorna-Reevash, concluding her story.

Permission is given for her to equip her armour and weapon, whilst, meanwhile, the party investigates the rather interesting cache of equipment she has uncovered in the wall. Entwined with probes and tubules which seem to be siphoning the energy of the items to power the machinery, they find Gauntlets of the Ram (gratefully received by Elumai) and Steadfast Boots (hungrily donned by Berend), as well as several hundred gold's worth of currency.

In the interim Elumai and Azurami have set about casting the Object Reading ritual on the well. The carvings giving it the likeness of a Worm have obviously been added after-the-fact, and the lightning clouds are nothing more than ornamental conjurations making what is essentially a simple teleportation portal appear much more spectacular than it really is.

Reading the well, the wizards see a somewhat plain-looking man (who they assume is Murkelmoor) stepping into the portal with a massive, red-furred demon at his side; he appears on the other side in a large triangular chamber, working around a Necrotech urn raised on a pedestal in one corner. That is all they can ascertain before the divination fades.

Still, it's enough to resolve the company's next course of action. Murkelmoor has links to Paldemar, who has stockpiled tons of the flurock, which appears to be used in conjunction with Necrotech to bring a race of ancient worms back to life... and he must be stopped. It's fair to say no-one in the party still entirely trusts Matorna-Reevash -- and neither does she truly trust herself, despite assuring them all that she feels no different now than when she was captured. However, upon offering to stay behind if they want, the party chooses to bring her along anyway.

It's a decision they soon come to regret.

Stepping through the portal, they translocate into the broad, triangular chamber Elumai saw in her visions. It is distinctly different than the familiar sandstone construction of the Well: the air has none of the heat or humidity, and the flickering light is cast not from the air itself, but from two arrays of braziers along the walls. The room has three levels, and the adventurers have appeared in the lowest; steps lead up to a middle tier, and then further up to stone plinths at each corner. Necrotech urns like chimney stacks belch columns of black energies at the ceiling, which have coalesced into a shimmering, rippling sea of black-purple suspended 15 feet over their heads.

Evistro demons stand guard at two of the corners, while in the third, Murkelmoor, with his back to the party, works on the urn with the massive red-furred demon standing guard over him. Alongside them, a giant skeletal minotaur wielding a greatclub also stands vigil.

"About time, Liddite!" shouts Murkelmoor, not turning around. "I take it she's ready?"

No parlay or negotiation are contemplated, and the party makes good on the element of surprise. Murkelmoor is effectively shielded by the two monstrosities guarding him, but Berend and Xavier both launch themselves at the creatures while the rest of the company attempt to do as much damage as possible in the opening salvo.

Murkelmoor recovers his wits quickly. Two vast leathery wings unfold from his back as he turns to face the party, but he appears otherwise unremarkable, a middle-aged, stubble-chinned human. He addresses Matorna-Reevash, smiling with a mouth full of jagged and splintered teeth, his voice low with malice and glee: "You, woman! You have your instructions!" The Kingsblade's eyes go immediately vacant; she drops her longsword, pulls a long stiletto from the folds of her armour, and starts making her way quickly towards the south-western corner of the room.

The guard demons step aside to let her pass. No-one in the party is close enough to stop her as she raises her arm over the urn, pushes her closed fist into the column of black belching from its mouth, and slices her flesh open, spilling her blood into the vessel.

She screams as the skin on one side of her face blackens and cracks, and the urn stutters before belching out an elongated, Necrotech-infused worm which rides up the pillar of black before disappearing into the void above. Teeth gritted through barely-controlled agony, Matorna-Reevash begins to make her way mindlessly to the next vessel, while above her, the clouds slowly withdraw from the now-dormant ossuary, revealing a plain stone ceiling just a few feet above.

Still two-thirds of the room is blanketed in the stuff, and Jonas's curiosity finally gets the better of him. Clambering up the wall, he raises his head into the blackness only to feel it immediately grabbed and clawed at by dozens of hands, scratching and tearing at his skin until he wrenches himself free and falls heavily to the ground.

Meanwhile, Murkelmoor's skeletal protector has been handily dispatched by several well-placed blows from the rest of the company. This leaves an opening which allows the dwarf to charge into the attack, pinning the demonic human into one corner while Xavier defends himself against blow after blow from the red-furred Barlgura's crushing fists. Exposed and vulnerable, Murkelmoor orders the Evistro guarding the urns to join the fray.

With the party dangerously fragmented across the room and only Azurami standing between Matorna-Reevash and the second urn, the race is on to dispatch their enemies before any more of the deadly worms can be birthed...

4ed Campaign - Session 35 - 11th October 2009

2009-10-16T05:54:00.000-07:00

In which breaking a mirror brings good luck instead of bad, the blood is most certainly not the life, and the company is put severely to test in the Well of Demons.

Roster (Party Level 6th)
Berend - Dwarven Fighter
Elumai - Eladrin Wizard
Finial - Half-elf Paladin
Jonas - Human Rogue/Ranger

Taking one of the open exits from the room, Jonas reconnoiters a long corridor, one end of which had been sealed up long ago with a crude brick-and-plaster plug. This has recently been pushed down, and beyond, a short stretch of corridor leads into a narrow space confined on three sides by thick black curtains. Jonas succumbs to temptation, pokes his head through, and sees a large room on the other side, with several pillars which appear to be made of mirrors. As he catches sight of himself in one of the mirrors, he finds himself instantly transported...

...To a small, sealed chamber, reeking of sweat and filth. A tired, emaciated gnoll barks in surprise as Jonas pops into existence, reaches limply for a nearby hand-axe, and struggles to its feet. With barely time to prepare himself, Jonas is attacked by the starving creature.

The rest of the party, following Jonas up the corridor, see him disappear from sight in the shadows ahead, in-and-of-itself not terribly unusual, but then the sounds of his combat with the gnoll ring out all around them, as if being broadcast into the corridor. Berend hefts his axe and runs to his compatriots's aid, pushing through the curtains... and vanishing himself, to the very same room as Jonas, the black curtains swishing billowing in his wake.

This is enough to galvanise the others, who most definitely are not used to seeing Berend vanish before their eyes, and they assault the chamber. Avoiding the fate of their friends by covering their eyes, they attack each of the mirrored pillars in turn, succumbing on occasion to other, draining magical effects, but making good headway to the other half of the room, hidden out of sight behind a broad corner.

Berend meanwhile appears out of thin air to find the gnoll already surrendered to Jonas, and with the sound of shattering glass, all three of them are returned to the original chamber as the teleportation mirror is destroyed. The adventurers push on, distracted by their efforts long enough to allow the gnoll to escape from the direction they came.

At the far end of the room, another set of curtains swishes aside and two splinter-boned skeletons surge out, rotting entrails swilling around inside their rib-cages, attacking the nearest of the company. Although this complicates matters, even as they attempt to avoid eye-contact with the mirrors, the adventurers draw on all their resources and handily dispatch the undead.

At last they reach the other end of the chamber. A frieze of a minotaur's head, with a large hand-shaped depression, lies embedded in the wall above a large, unadorned bronze altar. Suspended on the wall above is a magnificent sword, glinting in the half-light of the chamber. An inscription on the blade reads, in ancient minotaur, Supplicant claim your reward! After some deliberation, the sword is removed, without incident, and the party retreats.

Down the other corridor from the worm room, the corridor splits into a Y-shape and two similar broken seal opens out into something much different. What looks like a pool of swirling, lapping blood covers almost the entire floor, except for two raised platforms near the doors where the adventurers are standing, a walkway bisecting the room half way across its width, two stone plints both with swords slowly spinning, balanced on their points, and more worryingly, two massive blood-red minotaur statues, armed with multi-pronged whips and standing silent vigil over both ends of the room.

The goal is clear, and with enticingly rough walls signalling an opportunity to climb past the blood without ever stepping foot in it, both Jonas and Berend decide to take the risk. Jonas moves with speed and grace compared to Berend's more meticulous approach, but neither adventurer is surprised when the colossal minotaurs grind into life, sweeping their whips around every inch of the room. Jonas contorts himself and avoids contact, but Berend is struck and pulled heavily off the wall onto the walkway.

This encourages Finial into action, who decides to brave the blood and get to his ally. Indeed, the liquid is poisonous to the flesh, but the paladin is all-but immune due to the magical amulet worn around his neck. What he is not immune to, however, is the feral, ape-like demon that rises dripping with blood out of the pool and attempts to bite a chunk out of his face.

At this point, the room comes alive. As the minotaurs rake the room with their whips, catching the feet of anyone they hit and pulling them into the blood, two other blood-soaked demons emerge from the liquid, rushing Jonas who, after acrobatically reaching the first plinth, is disappointed (but not wholly surprised) to find that the sword is merely an illusion which shimmers and disappears as his grasping hand reaches through it.

With the pool a deadly and effective impediment, Jonas and Berend are cut off from their friends as the demons and the lashing fronds of the miotaur whips converge on them. Jonas bravely dives to the second plinth and grasps the very real sword suspended there, but pulled off his feet by the demons' attacks, his last, desperate leap to safety ends in his dying body lying in a ragged heap at the feet of one of the minotaurs, safe from the whips but in danger of expiring any second.

As Jonas' life ebbs away, it becomes a race to save him and get out of the deadly chamber. Berend scrambles with every ounce of energy to Jonas' side, the claws of the demons raking bloody strokes in his flesh, and force-feeds him one of their few remaining healing potions. This brings the Rogue sputtering to life, and the two of them leap to the walkway, half way home but by no means out of the woods yet.

With the life-sapping blood pool between them and safety, everyone has no choice at this point but to hunker down in the safe zone at the feet of the nearer minotaur, and focus on dispatching the demons. Berend comes perilously close to passing out, and Jonas is no more than one good hit away from falling into a coma from which his weakened frame would probably never wake up, but the bolstering healing and artillery of Finial and Elumai are enough to save the day.

Exhausted by their ordeals, the company nevertheless decides to make good on its reward. The two inscribed swords fit perfectly into the slots on the bodies of the minotaur guardians in the Hall of the Worm, and the wardens slowly come to life, straining lifeless muscles to pull the circular portal apart.

As if heaven sent, the semi-circular room on the other side invites rest and recuperation. Hard stone bunks offer respite from the trials they've undergone, but more importantly, a fountain which spits crystal-clear water into the air replenishes their energies. Another circular door on the far side of the room is obviously the way forward, and from the other side, the mechanical churning which has been a constant part of the background noise of the complex since they arrived is very loud.

The company is depleted, brought low by the various tests they have endured in the Well. Despite their obvious need to put an end to whatever rituals the gnolls are conducting with their Necrotech devices, they aren't fools. They have no choice but to rest, thence to face the final challenges of the Well with renewed vigour.

4ed Campaign -- Session 34 -- 27th September 2009

2009-09-29T04:43:00.000-07:00

In which a historical mystery comes into focus, the party discovers they've been carrying something very dangerous around with them for quite some time, and the worm is finally turned...

Roster (Party Level 6th)
Berend - Dwarven Fighter
Elumai - Eladrin Wizard
Finial - Half-elf Paladin
Jonas - Human Rogue/Ranger

Following the fight with the lurking horror in the pillared room, the party naturally begins to explore, and discovers what appears to be a fake lath and plaster panel, expertly decorated to look like just another section of sandstone wall. Ripping it aside, they discover a crypt, the last resting place of several mummified minotaurs, all standing to attention in individual niches.

Finial, whose knowledge of these undead creatures and the diseases they can inflict surpasses the others, is uncompromising and demands that the creatures are destroyed before they can animate and do anyone any harm. He also points out that what little he knows of minotaur culture also suggests to him that it's extremely strange for the glory-seeking race to inter their dead in this way. Only Jonas hesitates, pointing out his belief that until they actually do animate, it would be nothing less than a desecration of holy ground.

However, showing less of the inflexibility which has marked his earlier altercations with the party, he withdraws to the bell chamber to test himself against the obstacles therein, turning his back on the proceedings and allowing Elumai to douse the mummies in oil and incinerate them with her magic. Luckily for them all, the boiling smoke from the conflagration exhausts down the well in the corner of the room, prompting interest from Berend.

Tying the dwarf off, he carefully descends into the cloying atmosphere of the well, a full 150 feet or more, before emerging into what by the sounds of it is a large underground cavern. A few dozen feet below, a pile of bones of all shapes and sizes suggests that more than a few unfortunates have been tossed down from above, and the chorus of inhuman groans from the darkness all around persuades him that he should retreat immediately. Above, Finial tightens the grip on his flail at the prospect of cleansing a nest of ghouls from the world, but he is talked out of the action by the others.

Jonas returns, dragging behind him the huge bronze clapper from the bell, trophy of his dizzying victory against gravity and physics, which the party ultimately decides to keep. To the east, they find a couple of smaller chambers, one a makeshift barracks of sorts, the other a kennel. Both rooms are scenes of carnage, with eviscerated gnoll and hyena remains painting the walls with blood. Undead remains, and two adjoining crypts from which the mummified creatures obviously burst forth, tell the story of the fight.

The company destroys what's left of the mummies, including four creatures which, although having clearly been responsible for the bloodshed next door, make no move to defend themselves as they are coup-de-graced by the adventurers. This prompts the party to consider what the gnolls were up to that could have set the undead upon them... and the only clue to this mystery are heavy fragments of plaster, strewn amongst the chaos of the barracks and clearly ripped from a wall elsewhere in the complex.

Motifs, glyphs, and imagery on the plaster depict the trials of a minotaur prince called Vorth, and the prostration of the minotaurs not before Baphomet, as common knowledge would suggest, but before other minotaurs, worshiped in His place.

Further in, the party discovers a bunk room, innocuous except for the three tall, glassy-black urns which are being kept inside. These containers, as tall as a man and about 18 inches across, have strange, fractal runes etches onto the reflective black surface, of no discernible language and which seem to changes inexplicably when the observer turns away, or even blinks. Inside each of the urns is a shallow layer of black, oily liquid.

Elumai, called upon to examine the containers, is almost knocked off her feet by the sheer punch of the necromantic auras being generated; so palpable are they that she can practically see the energies belching from the open ends of the vessels. Nevertheless she grits her teeth against the onslaught long enough to scrawl a copy of the runic inscriptions from one of the urns into the sand at her feet and, and with Jonas's help, re-seal them using the leathery flaps stapled near the rim.

They push deeper into the complex, and enter at the apex of a triangular room. The walls, floor, and ceiling are covered in glyphs and imagery depicting the history of the minotaurs of Saruun Khel... and it appears as if a more recent story has been plastered over the stone carvings of the old. The room itself is dominated by a huge statue standing more than a hundred feet over their heads: a giant, coiled worm, its maw a ring of tentacles and teeth, and its flesh, upon closer examination, composed of thousands upon thousands of smaller annelids. The statue is old and crumbling.

Also catching the party's attention are over a dozen flat black plates, of various uniform shapes, which appear to be attached to the stone walls and ceiling of the room with small claws or hooks. The surface of these plates shimmers with the now familiar colours of Necrotech. Two corridors lead out of the room, and one door to the south, a circular bronze portal seemingly held shut by two metallic minotaur statues. Interestingly, they have slits or sockets in their chests which suggest something should be inserted there.

The adventurers decide to spend some time deciphering the pictographs around the room. Between the four of them, they start to piece together something of the history of this place, a time of great change for the minotaurs when they turned their back on Baphomet, and the trials and pursuit of glory which He had laid before them, and instead began to worship the Worm.

Kvorn, emperor of the new kingdom of Saruun Khel, is depicted straddling the huge creature, cutting slivers of meat from its body, and feeding it to his followers. Three other names are also mentioned, other princes of the old kingdom -- Kallek, Durmo, and Vorth -- the latter of which seemingly refused to turn away from Baphomet, but whose ultimate fate is not described.

While contemplating this turn of events, and how it fits together with the other fragmentary evidence of Saruun Khel they've discovered on their travels, the company notices that the black plates around them are slowly moving, shifting their positions. Berend decides that they are not to be trusted, and striding up to the nearest one, he hefts at it with his axe. The effect is obvious and immediate... the plates are anything but inert, as multi-jointed legs spring out from underneath the creature and it jumps down to attack the dwarf. At the sound its high, insectoid screech, the other creatures around the room drop from their perches onto the floor and begin skittering with frightening speed towards him.

Dispersed around the room, the company turns its attention to the new threat. The creatures are resilient, and although the party's attacks draw red, fleshy wounds across their backs and legs, they press their advantage against Berend, surrounding him and hacking at his flesh. It soon becomes obvious that it's not actually him they're interested in, however, but his backpack, and within seconds they have ripped through the material, reached in with their claws and pulled out the flurock he has been carrying these many days. Thus secured, they coalesce around the rock, forming a perfect dodecahedral prison for it, which then drops to the floor.

Crackling Necrotech energies begin to build around the device, and the party, suspecting an imminent explosion, backs off. Instead, there is a muffled thump as critical mass is reached within the chamber, and the plates break apart, collapsing inert to the floor to reveal... a tiny worm.

The flurock has been transformed into a writhing, coiling, miniature version of the statue in whose shadow they're all standing. As they watch, it begins to bloat and enlarge at incredible speed. The creature's skin is vaguely transluscent, shot-through with veins of purple-black, and beneath, its flesh is formed from a writhing mass of other worms, snaking and sinuating into complex patterns which dazzle the eye. Almost immediately, the creature is as big as a man, and the company seens no alternative but to attack.

Ducking the hideous, fleshy mouth, Berend brings his axe to bear. It's a fine strike, scoring a wound across the flank of the beast, but he is disgusted to see the thing bleed a slimy throng of wriggling, toothy worms at his feet... worms which immediately swarm up his body and begin to attack. All the while, the patterns of the worm-flesh dissolve and coalesce, confounding his senses and forcing him to concentrate hard to even bring his axe down.

Elsewhere, the other Necrotech plates are swarming towards the fight, seemingly drawn to the presence of the worm. Elumai, thinking quickly, conjures the image of a piece of flurock off to one side of the battle... and the illusion is convincing enough to get the attention of several of the creatures, who crowd the image and give the wizard ample opportunity to explode the air about them into freezing pain.

Meanwhile the worm brings its other attacks to bear on Finial, Jonas, and Berend. Acidic spit from the creature's ever-expanding maw seems to send the flesh-worms into a frenzy, while it also has the ability to engorge fetid pustules on its body, which explode biting worms in all directions. Disgusted, wounded, and hypnotised by the creature all at the same time, it takes every ability at their disposal to dispatch the loathsome beast and the Necrotech devices which spawned it, but the company is, at last, victorious.

As calm descends over the slime-and-worm-covered chamber, the party pauses to consider the implications of what they've seen...

4ed Campaign - Session 33 - 6th September 2009

2009-09-11T08:15:00.000-07:00

In which the company is sorely lacking an ancient cartouche to light the way, a gift of blood seems like the easy way out, and the trial of the Well begins...

Roster (Party Level 6th)
Berend - Dwarven Fighter
Elumai - Eladrin Wizard
Finial - Half-elf Paladin
Jonas - Human Rogue/Ranger

The party is weakened and in dire need of recuperation from the fight with the demonic warband, and resolves to take a rest in the Hall of the Red Vein, sealing the door against intruders and ruthlessly dispatching any remaining duergar who might be clinging to life.

Thus secured, they take the time to search the room, and Jonas discovers a secret retreat hidden above the Hall's smoldering fireplace. Bolstering himself against the heat and climbing up the chimney breast to reach it, he discovers a stash of food, water, and more interestingly, a suit of exquisite chain armour wrapped in paper as if a present for someone. A bottle of insalubrious-looking liquid in a wicker tote also catches his eye as standing out, and he retrieves both items.

Elumai identifies the mail as Chain Armor of Sacrifice +2, but she's uncharacteristically unsure of the bottle. She discoveres through experimentation that it can slowly generate potions seemingly out of thin air, but the nature of these concoctions, and whether or not their effects can be controlled, is outside of her realm of expertise. Perhaps an experienced alchemist might be able to help, but they haven't made the acquaintance of such a person as yet. In any case, she decants the contents of the bottle into a small water barrel, thereby emptying the bottle in order to let it re-fill.

The baking hot room is not the most pleasant place to catch some rest, but the company is left mercifully undisturbed for the duration.

Thus refreshed, they turn their attention to the portal to the Well of Demons. The device is completely inert, an obsidian triangle held aloft by two exquisitely carved -- and meticulously unearthed -- minotaur statues. Through investigation, the adventurers decipher the remaining text, revealing the three inscriptions in their entirety, one per side:

"In Kvorn's name, demonstrate your quality"
"Only the honor-bound may tread within"
"In Baphomet's name, exceed Him!"

The final inscription is curious, having been engraved onto the portal over the top of earlier writings. Carefully concealed, but spotted by the attentive eyes of the party, the earlier inscription read: "In Baphomet's name, serve Him!"

Much trial-and-error ensues. Jonas discovers a dried patch of goo near one corner of the device, somewhat similar to the patch of liquid that Elumai used to keep the flames at bay back in Krand's chamber. Although the implication is clear, the company is unwilling to simply smash the glass vial and hope for the best. Secondarily to this, Jonas even volunteers to try on the Necrotech glove, but loses his nerve when, as expected, the tubules begin crawling over his skin, probing for somewhere to attach themselves.

In the end, the simplest of methods proves effective: three of the company (Elumai, Finial, and Berend) spill a few drops of their blood upon the portal, and it activates. A glassy sheen, like looking through a thick window, springs into force between the three facets of the portal, and the adventurers, with barely a hint of hesitation, step through. There is a moment of darkness, a cacophany like a thousand screaming voices suddenly cut off, a sensation of falling... and then a rude impact on a hard floor.

They find themselves in a hot, humid room built of sandy bricks. A distant, mechanical churning sound can be heard in the background. In the center of the room is a stone plinth on which sits a blood-stained bowl; a chain rises to the ceiling, attached to the wheel of an ornate and massive bell which hangs fifty feet over their heads. Shockingly, there is no sign of either Xavier or Azurami. It seems the Well of Demons has other plans for them.

Dusting themselves down, they decide that the more prudent course of action is to leave these artifacts alone for now, and scout ahead, down a sandy corridor (rife with evidence of many booted feet having recently come this way) until they come upon another, similar room, its shadowed ceiling held aloft by pillars on which are carved grotesquely exaggerrated minotaur faces.

Jonas creeps in, and two of the faces in the center of the room immediately animate, booming a salutation so loud it hurts his ears:

"Greetings, seekers of Baphomet's boundless glory!
Those who prove unworthy of his attention
Shall be claimed forever as his slaves.
Those who prove worthy
Shall be granted power beyond mortal reckoning.
Mask, bell, blade and tome!"

At this point Jonas spies a diminutive, shadowy figure lurking behind one of the pillars... and another, across the room. The black-skinned humanoids are searching to and fro, desperately trying to find whoever activated the speaking columns, but Jonas will not be spotted so easily, and takes the creatures entirely by surprise with his attack.

As the others arrive to support their friend, the situation seems straightforward enough. Even as the creatures kick up the sands to translocate from one side of the room to the other, the company is more than a match for them. Then, from the well on the far side of the room, a decrepid, moaning figure emerges -- another one of the foul undead to deal with! -- and, suddenly, the ground beneath their feet heaves up, splits open, and a clutch of bony tentacles whips up to attack them from below!

This complicates matters, but the lurkers and the ghoul are swiftly dealt with, and the burrowing creature is battered into retreat to be finished off by a battle-fevered Berend.

So victorious, the party looks to other exits from the room, and weighs up its next move...

4ed Campaign - Session 32 - 23rd August 2009

2009-09-01T04:46:00.000-07:00

In which a dwarf's unwanted destiny is revealed, the contrivances of his friends save him from himself, and the technology of the strange almost costs him his life...

Roster (Party Level 5th)
Azurami - Eladrin Wizard
Berend - Dwarven Fighter
Elumai - Eladrin Wizard
Finial - Half-elf Paladin
Jonas - Human Rogue/Ranger
Xavier - Dragonborn Warlord

"Hrafnkell!"

The word has a dramatic impact on Berend. He asks a simple question, "Where are they?", but without waiting for an answer, he jumps into the pit and begins beating on the injured duergar. The grey-skinned dwarf has no strength for a fight, and as Berend's fists pound on his face, it seems the only defense he can muster is to laugh at his own plight.

Jonas eventually interposes himself between the two of them. The duergar lies bloodied and on the verge of unconsciousness on the stone floor, while Berend retreats from the pit in silent rage and stalks from the room. Elumai and Finial move after him.

As a potentially crucial source of information, the injured dwarf is force-fed one of the company's precious few healing potions, and helped from the pit only to be threatened with death by Jonas and Xavier unless he is forthcoming. Spitting blood down his chin, the under-dweller chortles at the irony, that a Hrafnkell should arrive at the Horned Hold now, of all times, when the spawn of Yeenoghu have breached the seal to the Well of Demons. Neither of the adventurers know what a "Hrafnkell" is, causing no end of (somewhat painful) mirth to the duergar. "Travelled with the dwarf into the pits of the underdark, and you don't even know his name?" Other than that, he insists that he'll only answer questions put to him by Berend.

Outside, Elumai and Finial find Berend in a rage-filled fugue, attempting to loft his grappling hook across the gap to the blazing watchtower on the other side. He shrugs off their questions -- "They're here somewhere, dead or dying! I have to find them!" -- and Elumai, afraid for her friend's life if he ventures across the gap into the inferno, has no choice but to surreptitiously thwart his rope-craft with subtle use of her mage-hand. This ploy buys them the time they need to calm the dwarf down, and lead him back to the rest of the party.

The duergar prisoner, who introduces himself as Proxim, is rousedby Berend's return. "Odirin, is it?" he asks excitedly. "Or Kreverok?" Neither name gets a response from the dwarf, and Proxim thinks for a second... "Ah, of course. Berend!"

The interrogation of the duergar is a long and difficult process. Proxim's only way of reconciling the contempt he feels for Berend (and his friends) with the fact that a Hrafnkell will apparently be the salvation of the duergar in its hour of need is to find every question asked of him infinitely amusing. Eventually though a few apparent facts trickle out of the proceedings.

The gnolls, servants of the Demon Lord Yeenoghu, attacked the Horned Hold from below and used some kind of device to drain the life essence of its inhabitants, leaving only a few prisoners with their senses intact. They then broke the seal of the portal to the Well of Demons, something the duergar have failed to do in decades of trying, and took a few select prisoners -- the Kingsblade woman among them -- through to the Well.

"They must not be allowed to consecrate the Well for their demon-father! Save your Kingsblade friend if you must, but do it in the God Tyrant's name! You are chosen for great things!"
-- Proxim to Berend in the Horned Hold

Berend has heard enough by this point, and a look of resignation falls over Proxim's face. He knows he won't escape this room alive, and asks at least for a sword with which to defend himself. The justice of the company is swift and merciless, and within seconds the duergar lies dead at their feet.

Also at this point, Berend reveals what has been affecting him so strangely since they entered the Hold. Pulling off his gauntlets, he shows them strange lesions like old burn scars on the backs of both of his hands. Upon examination, they're revealed to be somewhat akin to the most common sygil of the evil god Asmodeus, patron of the duergar: three triangles arranged in a pyramidal shape. But on Berend, the triangles are inverted. He also admits that he has been hearing the voices of "The Lost" in his head, people from his clan who have been missing for years and whose fate is a mystery even to the upper echelons of his family.

By now, the adventurers know they only have once choice left: to assault the room where the duergar population is being held dead or dying. Having scouted the area before and noted the presence of several demonic foes and their gnoll masters, they know it will be a difficult and bloody fight, not least because of the added presence of Berend, whose normally implacable defense of the party might well be cut short by the very technology which has been used to destroy their enemies.

The fight does not disappoint. The initial tactical foray is betrayed by a rare (and noisy) mis-step from Jonas which gets the attention of a nearby gnoll with matted, loam-caked fur and a loathsome grin. The creature mutters a few indecipherable words, and a swarm of biting, stinging insects pours out of the fireplace like an avalanche, engulfing the Rogue. The attack gives the game up for the rest of the party, and they're forced to engage.

Stumbling over the dead or dying duergar, many of them clutching feebly at the adventurers as they step past them (and impeding them in the process!), the company moves to engage the gnoll overlord, a towering creature with bone jewelry and other accoutrements strung from its fur. Its demonic guardians, tall columns of yellow goo from which a single eye stares out, and a hulking ape-like beast made of what appears to be transluscent glass, move to intercept, holding them near the center of the room and allowing the gnoll archers towards the rear of the hall the freedom they need to do injury to the party.

"Chosen are you? Marked for death then! Demons, clear the way!"
-- Gnoll shaman Absin Yugleth to Berend in the Hall of the Red Vein.

Soon a critical juncture is reached as Berend breaks through the defense and charges towards the gnoll overlord. At this cue, two of the columns of goo literally explode, entrapping his comrades in a sticky morass and leaving him exposed. This is all the time the shaman needs to step forward, plant his palm on Berend's chest, and invoke the power of Yeenoghu. Berend's skin goes ashen grey, his eyes roll up into their sockets, and he collapses, brought down by the insidious device.

Things turn desperate at this point. The party fights to survive long enough to bring Berend back to the land of the living. The archers are brought down one by one as both the ruin-touched beastcaller and its shaman commander struggle to re-energise their magic, and with a gargantuan effort, the company prevails... barely. Berend has set at least one foot within the ghostly halls of his ancestors before the party can bring magical healing to bear on him. The battle has truly taxed them to their limits.

The shaman is immediately searched for signs of the magic which allowed it to attack Berend so mercilessly. The device is quickly found: a strange, chitinous glove, hidden beneath a leather gauntlet, made of what look like interlocking beetle-shells. Above it, the shaman's arm is hairless and discoloured a sickly green, and several fleshy, cartilaginous pipes and wires extend out of the glove into its flesh. In the palm of the glove, something else of interest: a glass vial is affixed there, no more than an inch across and two inches in length. Inside, suspended in a transluscent red liquid, dozens of tiny pin-pricks of light jostle for position.

As they investigate the glove, there is a stomach-turning squelch as, seemingly with a life of its own, it retracts its probes and feeder tubes from the gnoll, clenches its fist around the vial, and drops to the ground, trailing viscous fluids in its wake. In this state, the look of the device unequivocally reminds them of the Necrotech coffin they have hidden in the room next door...

Where we at?

2009-08-24T04:26:00.000-07:00

So a word or two about the drop-off in campaign journals, to any of my devoted readers who might be interested (hi mum)...

The campaign is still going strong (into 6th level as of yesterday), but we've seen a few diversions lately which have slowed progress a bit.

It turns out July and August were a *really* bad time to put Berend in the campaign spotlight, as his player Ben has been unavoidably pulled from the game for several weekends. Rather than push on without him, I diverted the game into a couple of "interludes", which are short one-shot adventures ret-conned into the campaign, and assumed to have happened prior to 'current' events.

You have to ignore obvious problems with Power availability and use, and I just allow everyone to run with fully-rested characters for the session it takes to play these things out, but on the whole, they worked extremely well.

They're good discipline for me (akin to putting together a convention game), and the players get to blast the crap out of everything in their path without having to worry about what might be around the corner, so everybody wins. So much so, in fact, that I'm already thinking of ways to build them into the game in a more structured way... you can probably play a few tunes with the idea as long as you have a bunch of players willing to buy-in to a Tarantino-style fractured narrative. More as-and-when.

As well as that, one of my players volunteered to start a second, slim-line campaign for those occasions when we I like a break, and I actually got to play for a change! Note to everyone: the Warden is every bit as fun as he looks on paper.

As I mentioned earlier, we played 'real time' Cradle Plain yesterday, and everyone levelled to 6th in the process. You should see the journal sometime this week, and although we're having to take a complete break next weekend, September is looking good for some consistent play.

On the player front, some not-so-good news. Xavier and Azurami's players will unfortunately be moving away from Worcester within the next week or so, and we're going to be losing them from the game. On the one hand, this is a real disappointment because they've added tons to the game, and we'll miss them; on the other hand, the gold medal for highest player turnover per-year-per-campaign must surely be within my grasp.

This will bring us back down to 4 players which I think I'm going to hold at, unless a new player literally drops in my lap.