#39 - Night Hag Alley

Here the narrative is again written by Xoma of the M’jai family, drow wizard of Xen'drik.

* * *

I was secretly thrilled when Sa-Jira indicated that she had ascertained the location of Jabra, the mysterious night hag known for her expertise in all things alchemical and arcane. The young medusa led us to an alleyway in the district known as Sar Kuraath, or Little Graywall, which houses the city's smaller citizens—chiefly, goblins and kobolds. In its depths, a rustic tent was occupied by an old woman. Sa-Jira was clearly uninterested in meeting Jabra—and indeed seemed angry with Rendar for some recent lack of attention—and left the moment we reached Jabra's tent.

The old woman, who seemed nothing more than a human crone working in the shadows of the tent, did little more than shuffle along inside. Cypher was unsure of himself and my warrior companions were out of their element. Without delay, I walked through the open flap.

The interior of the tent in no way matched the exterior. After entering, I found myself in a swamp. Damp, dim, though still somewhat stifling and smelling as much like a Graywall alley as a wetland. Across a field of standing water, wild grasses, and candles, stood Jabra. Her night hag nature was far more apparent here. Jabra still looked like an old woman, but was much taller, had the warty, hunched, horned features of a powerful blue-skinned hag of folklore.

I assumed that Jabra’s domain was an extradimensional space of some sort. The swampy appearance might be an illusion, or the space might simply be populated by whatever Jabra desires. The hag stood over a table covered in oddities of all sorts. A silver-plated ogre skull served as her cauldron. She looked at me and asked, "Why have you come?”

I was unsure of what would interest a hag, but I knew what I wanted. “I have come for magical scrolls.”

“Arcane?”

“Yes.”

Jabra said something to the effect of "I prefer barter over coins, and lives over barter. Can you offer any?” Though I could not offer lives, I knew I might have things I could offer instead of gold." She withdrew a coffer divided into two halves of rolled up scrolls. "I have a number of spells available. Peruse them and tell me what you can offer.”

Unable to read the magic at first glance, Jabra placed a bowl in front of me filled with brackish water, with disembodied eyeballs rolling at the bottom. She told me to rub the water on my own eyes, and I did so, unfazed. Instantly the arcane writing became clear, so I looked through the scrolls and found Jabra to have a moderately impressive selection—read magic, blur, melf’s acid arrow, protection from energy, blink, and the like. Finally, I showed her my Sul'atar flamebound boomerang, imagining that she might find a use for it. She seemed intrigued and said that I could pick two of the spells in exchange. She indicated that the owner of the boomerang wanted it back and was actively seeking me to get it. Evidently, she had the power to learn about the origins or previous owners of physical objects.

She also offered another spell if I revealed a secret of one of my companions. I thought about it for a moment. I didn't want to betray my current companions, but felt little compunction about revealing information about....

Well, later I would learn....Halbazar. I must have described the strange Aundairian sorcerer that my companions tell me had traveled with us for a time. The hag was intrigued. She informed me that she would have to see for herself by looking at the memory directly. I was nervous about having someone in his head, but intrigued about the hag’s magic, so I must have agreed.

Jabra brewed some variety of potion and had me consume it, though it tasted foul. I can only conclude that the concoction siphoned from my mind the memory in question. I came out of the stupor it imposed on me and found Jabra staring down at me, leaning close, smiling. I really couldn't remember the nature of the transaction at that point, but I accepted it. This was a night hag, after all. Her methods cannot be understood.

I hedged his bets. “So now you’re going to give me what I asked for?”

She gestured to the pile of scrolls. “Take one more.”

I chose a third scroll. I asked if she had any interest in gold. It clearly wasn’t her favorite thing, but it still had its uses. In exchange for 800 gold pieces, she let me choose one more spell.

Following that selection, I made my way out of the swamp. I assumed I could reach the exit simply by heading back the way I came, and I was correct. Had I been less groggy, I might of thought more about what had happened. I passed Cypher on his way in to visit Jabra, too, but said nothing to the warforged.

As soon as I left, I thought of one other item that might interest Jabra. I waited until Cypher was finished meeting with her, then went back in and showed her the goblin spellbook I had found in a laboratory in the ancient underground ruins of Darguun, near Paluur Draal. Jabra was interested, but skeptical that I had returned.

“Is this a gift?” she asked.

I hadn’t planned on giving it as a gift, but it seemed like a good idea. “Yes, it is.” She seemed pleased. I started to walk out, but she called out to me. “Then I will give you a gift as well. For several days, you and your companions have been followed by an armored warrior who traverses the rooftops as easily as a cat burglar.”

I thought it might be the drow I had seen in the stands at the Six Stones competition. Jabra now had the boomerang, so it was her problem.

* * *

Cypher proceeded in to speak with Jabra and had a similar experience—though his manner, and the information given to him, was quite different than Xoma's. For knowledge, he traded the Cyran backback and its contents—including Rungo, the stuffed bear—which Jabra immediately and deliciously identified as belonging to a "father and daughter." Unconcerned by this, Cypher received information about the schema he'd been carrying around—the one found inside the body of the warforged Claviger.

According to the night hag, the schema itself was used in or around the Mournland, but likely before the Day of Mourning.

* * *

Leaving the night hag behind, the PCs made their way out of Little Graywall and returned to the Temple of the Shadow, where Zerasha and Drix prepared them for the first night of Long Shadows, the holiday where evil magic is said to be greatest, where the powers of darkness are stronger. They left their weapons behind and went to the Arena, ready to fight in the Giant's Ring.

#38 - The Calm Before the (Bone) Storm

Here the narrative is again written by Xoma of the M’jai family, drow wizard of Xen'drik.

* * *

After we awoke from our petrification and subsequent shadowy vision, Magnus, Cypher, Rendar, and I found ourselves back in the map room with Drix (in drow form), Zerasha, and the maedar Hajda. We awoke with deep brands in our palms—depicting a twisted tower sigil, quite like the symbol of the Shadow. These must have been carved into our forms while we were stone for such scarification to a living being could result in significant damage and perhaps loss of limb.

Neither Magnus nor I are new to tattoos, but I suspect that Cypher and Rendar were somewhat unnerved to find themselves marked by the Shadow. As a creature of shadow already, it didn’t faze me. I suspect that Doongul is relieved that he didn’t go with us—I doubt Onatar would be pleased if the dwarf had been marked in such a way.

After everyone had some time to rest, Zerasha revealed to us the results of her vision. She indicated that one of the members of the Winter Coalition, which had formed during the Age of Demons was still alive—perhaps through some sort of magical longevity—and that there were three locations significant in some way to the Winter Coalition itself. She believed we would be able to contact this being at one of these sites. Her divination revealed him to be humanoid, though she was unsure of what race.

The three locations are as follows:

• A mountain among the Starpeaks, in northern Aundair. The Starpeaks also happens to be the location of the Starpeaks Observatory, a facility of Aundair's Arcane Congress.
• The ruins of Mar'saval in the lawless jungle-and-swamp frontier of Q’Barra in southeastern Khorvaire.
• The Boneyard, an ancient dragon cemetery or battle site in a valley at the eastern border of the Talenta Plains.

Of the three, Q’Barra seemed least interesting to me. Both the Arcane Congress and the Boneyard contained potential sources of power and knowledge. Q’Barra, while wild and perhaps a bit fun, seemed less intriguing. We discussed the notion of taking a sea vessel from Sharn. This would have many advantages, allowing us to consult another Shadow priestess and visit libraries in the City of Towers, and also commandeer a ship. By ship, we could stop at Korranberg to consult allies and their great library, then take to sea again to land in the port of Aerie in Valenar, which is approximately equidistant between Q’Barra and the Boneyard, allowing us to travel to either.

But then we recalled that there was a strong connection to the Winter Coalition and the Arcane Congress . That seemed to indicate that a trip to Arcanix might be the first order of business. I’m not sure we’ve settled on a final decision.

Drix and Zerasha explained the nature of the three arena tournaments on the first night of the Long Shadows holiday. The first, the Giants' Ring, is a battle involving larger combatants, which seemed wise to avoid; the second involves more bestial creatures in a cavelike environment; and the third is a free-for-all with many participants (including the reviled oni, Zurin Souldrinker, who stole poor Trug’s soul) know as the Bone Storm.

Zerasha indicated that we also possessed three tools that could aid us in our journey: "the bone, the blade, and the key." She said that we already had these in our possession. The bone was the mammoth dragonbone club that Magnus took as a trophy from the vile bugbear that we fought in the temple of the Mockery. The blade was likely the byeshk scimitar that we located during our explorations of the ruins of Darguun. We are unsure of the nature of the key as Zerasha indicated that it was not the same as "the goblin's key" (the Emperor's Key, as we know it).

We spent a great deal of time discussing items that could be the key. Cypher in particular, enjoyed pontificating on the subject, though they is nothing new about that.

The remainder of the first night after we awoke was spent performing a variety of tasks related to shopping and preparations for our rumble in the arena. We went back to the forge to speak with Szalas Jal and his artifice partner about items that might be the key. Cypher bartered for some more artificer trinkets, Rendar exchanged his Karnnathi armor for less conspicuous protection; and Cypher finished work on his mechanical dog. He has named the metal beast Rungo. Like his bear hat.

After some discussion, we agreed to sell the dragonshard from the Sky Talon to the elven artificer, Ravid. Magnus used his portion of the money and some borrowed from others to purchase a magical ring of protecction from the oni smith, similar to the one I wear. The smith indicated that I might find scrolls and alchemical substances by consulting with the night hag Jabra, but she is a mysterious creature who is difficult to find.

We left the smithy and conferred with Drix. She said that she could probably find Jabra and also gave us advice and information on locating some potential patrons.

We had a run-in with the elder Karrn and the warforged Grapnel, yet again. The unpleasant human made it clear that he believed Grapnel to be his property and that the edict freeing the warforged race was propaganda that did not apply here. It seemed like he had conditioned Grapnel to believe that he had no independent status and that those of other nations were liars if they asserted otherwise.

Grapnel seemed confused but likely is common with members of his ‘race,’ it was difficult for him to question authority. It did not help that Cypher admitted to using a pseudonym in the arena, only enforcing Grapnel’s belief that foreigners lie.

I suspect that the warforged simply isn’t very bright, but that does not mean that he deserves to be a slave. The key will be to convince him that his masters are the ones who are lying, not us. That may be impossible, but it’s worth at least a few more efforts. We nearly came to blows with the Karrn over the situation, but a fight for Grapnel seemed ill-advised, at least until the warforged was convinced that he should fight for himself.

This reminds me of something that happened back home. There was a fern that grew in shady areas of the jungle known as Hwa’quok. Some young Vulkoori enjoyed chewing the leaves of the fern because it dulled battle-pains, but it also made them stupid. It was easy to become dependent on the plant, rendering these warriors almost crippled. More than a few had to be cut down because they had become a drain or their tribes. Some could be convinced of their error, and recovered from it, but otherwise refused to deny that they had a problem. These poor individuals did not survive.

Grapnel is much like those addicted to Hwa’quok. He has a problem, but refuses to admit it or is unable to recognize it. Part of me thinks it would be a service to him if we cut him down. The other part feels that we need to intervene to help him because unlike the addicts, he has no capacity to break free from his shackles.

After our run in with the Karns and their warforged, we did a little more shopping. We planned to go to the Goblin Market, but before we did, we noticed that a human had been watching our encounter with the Karrns. We approached him and discovered that he was an agent of the Brelish general that had taken an interest in Cypher. He had a warforged arm and an eyepatch, which were intriguing to Cypher.

The man indicated that his master wished for Cypher to enter an arrangement of patronage. He would supply gold and other forms of assistance and all he wanted in return was that Cypher would enter the Giants' Ring event in the Arena and destroy the troll known as Fireshazz. The troll was said to be resistant to fire, unlike most of his kin, which would make the challenge that much more difficult. After some discussion, Cypher agreed to terms.

At the Goblin Market, we located some alchemical substances that could prove useful in our upcoming skirmish. In particular, we were interested in acid that could counteract the troll’s regeneration. Using a spell, I located a magical scroll. The goblin merchant had no idea what she had, so she sold it to me, along with a likely useless map, for 20 gold pieces. It proved to be a warding scroll, containing the spell of Alarm, which could help significantly in preventing ambushes while our party rests.

While we were in town, we also visited the halflings of Jorasco and Ghallanda, who were able to elaborate somewhat on the nature of the Boneyard and the Talenta Plains. They didn’t have much detail, but they did indicate that the area attracted aberrant creatures of Xoriat and occasionally living dragons became incensed if they discovered that their burials were being disturbed. We learned that the Talenta Plains really didn’t have any true settlements, which confirmed our suspicions that getting around there would be difficult.

At the House Sivis office, we sent a message via Speaking Stone to Wenrick in Korranberg, which went as follows:

Dear Wenrick,

We were pleased to hear that you and the gnomes arrived safely in Korranberg. We have been traveling, pursuing information about our quest and “the item.”

We are concerned about the repercussions of the news story about our activities in the Korranberg Chronicle. We were hoping you might be able to spread the word of our benevolent nature, with the subtlety in which your people are so well known.

It is likely that we will be back in Korranberg sometime in the next few months. I am not sure when, but we are concerned about attracting unwanted attention. Our party was initially ambushed in the city, so we know that it is likely that there will be eyes watching out for us. We would greatly appreciate it if you could find a safe place for us to stay when we arrive, even if it is on short notice. 
While we are in Korranberg, our primary goal is to get into the great library, preferably without attracting much attention. We have much we need to research, but it will be difficult if we are rushed and harried. 

We hope you are well and feel truly sorry for the hardships that have befallen you. We appreciate any assistance you can provide to us and are grateful for the discretion you have shown. 

We will attempt to contact you if we have more news on when we might be in your region. Until then, we wish you the best.

Skla-Um-Fet (a drow expression…it roughly translates to “Don’t Die.),

Xoma

#37 - The Sixth Stone

"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w0Yse6Pxrmo"

The game raged on, surprisingly long. Both opposing humans were eventually petrified by the basilisk's gaze. The older of the two Karrns, the one announced as Captain Arlen, resisted the longest. The monstrous crowds around the Arena cheered the "stoning" of the Five Nations humans.

Grapnel, the Karrnathi warforged—who seemed vaguely apologetic of his actions—persisted. Although he had begun to seize up under the stiffening glare of the magical lizard, he held very still—as still as only a construct can—and after a few moments, it seemed to fool the basilisk into thinking that he'd already turned to stone. It turned away from him, and soon he rose again, safe from its eyes.

The basilisk pursued Magnus next. Cypher, Xoma, and Magnus played in an ever-shifting dance against the increasingly aggressive Grapnel. The warforged was mighty—physically at least as strong as Magnus, and broader by far—and finally locked Cypher in a vicelike grip, forcing the other warforged to face the basilisk. Cypher tried to appeal to him, to establish a camaraderie, but Grapnel kept insisting, "I do not understand. I have orders." That Grapnel still obeyed commands from the two Karrns—even though they were stone—was remarkable.

Eventually, Cypher was beyond help, and a statue he became. The crowd roared approval, enjoying the warforged vs. warforged struggle. With a snarl of satisfaction, the basilisk turned away to pursue those that remained: drow, human, and warforged.

Xoma and Magnus struggled against one another convincingly, even as they evaded and tried to keep from allowing Grapnel to bind them. But the large wareforged was clearly a threat, and Magnus took him head-on. The two locked arms, twisted, broke apart, and engaged again, even as Xoma darted in, lashed with the rope he'd been carrying, and even attempted to leap upon the construct's back.

But despite his rage, even Magnus found himself clasped in the warforged's unyielding grip and turned to the basilisk, who dogged them repeatedly. The Seren barbarian, seized in its gaze, chanted something from his language, which Xoma understood to sound like death rites of his culture. But it wasn't death that claimed Magnus—simply stasis and stony oblivion.

Then Xoma remained. He was determined to draw out the fight, even though it seemed inevitable that Grapnel would overtake him. The crowd seemed pleased with the spectacle, and by the time Xoma was crouched, half folded up by the warforged's powerful arms, he saw a dark-skinned figure on the edge of the crowd, watching the final moments play out. The basilisk's blue-eyed and baleful glare coaxed him in to stone, but the Xen'drik dark elf resisted for half a minute before submitting to darkness and the end of the game of Six Stones. The last standing "man" was a warforged, but none of the PCs would hear the Arena's reaction.

Instead, they found themselves in what they later understood—and even then believed—to be a vision. Another vision under the auspices of the Shadow:

Only four of them—Rendar, Cypher, Xoma, and Magnus—trapped in a chamber. Dim, with sourceless light, in a subterranean space. Cracks in the floor disappeared into a mist-oozing chasm. In the center of the room was a twisted, obsidian pillar shaped much like the Shadow's own symbol. In a shelf within it, a glowing red orb.

A voice whispered in their minds:

The first to claim the orb will receive lasting power. The first to exit this chamber will claim power from a fallen enemy.

They experimented and debated and tried to explore the area, but eventually it as Xoma who claimed the orb—and it seemed to grant him the power of flight. When Rendar discovered a hidden door in one wall, they also spied the word SACRIFICE carved in Draconic upon it. After a bloody experiment in opening it, the seeming death of Rendar and/or Xoma led to the opening of the door. It was Cypher who exited first....

At which point the entire vision ended. Damnable Shadow visions.

The PCs found themselves reverting back to flesh inside the Temple of the Eye. Zerasha the oracle and priestess lay on the floor, shivering and covered in frost. Seeming exhausted from the ritual she'd performed on them while they were in stone form. She climbed to her feet and said, "My divination was somewhat successful, but I have been...noticed. There is a surviving member of the Winter Coalition. A male, I think."

Sa-Jira the young medusa ran forward to attend to Rendar and help him stand again. Drix, lounging in the form of a female drow, watched from a nearby sofa. Hajda, the maeder, watched impassively. Doongul was present now, and had obviously successfully overseen the safe transfer of their statue forms, but had not been present in the Shadow's "dream."

That's when the PCs noticed that a symbol had been etched, carved right through the skin (or metal, in the case of Cypher) of their left-hand palms: a symbol that sure looked like the Shadow's.