#84 - The Weaver's Shadow

Excerpt from the Cypher's Codex: The Scrawlings of a Warforged Scholar

A magical darkness enveloped our oni enemy and at the same time a black vapor arose from the tattoos of the Shadow etched into mine and Magnus’s palms. It was the first time these tattoos had ever activated, although I certainly had my suspicions that there was magic involved, likely divine as I could never fully analyze their magical matrix. Zerasha took our basilisk-gaze-stoned bodies from the arena in Graywall and brought us back to animated form, however in the process giving us our palm glyphs.

Unseen beneath the screen of darkness, the oni flew up into the air and beyond most of our reaches. When the darkness subsided, our oni was less protected and Magnus was able to land a fierce blow against his lower half. However the oni looked different than before; his features were slightly different and he was wearing different clothes. Just as I was about to fire upon the creature, he called out to me and Magnus claiming no intention to hurt us. I surmised that there was some relation between the subsiding black vapor about the oni and that from my palm. Stepping between Magnus and his prey, I called out for a parley and it was accepted.

The oni claimed to be Sorrel, a friend of Zerasha and a servant of the Shadow. Through some magical means he did not explain, he was able to switch physical places with his brother Hiraz the Weaver, the oni we against which we had begun this battle. For a short yet indeterminate amount of time Sorrel would remain with us in the ruins, sent as a spy for the Shadow. It was clear he, like the medusa priestess, was a servant of the Sovereign of Magic and Mayhem. Sorrel explained that Zerasha had gathered new intelligence and now sought more; it was only by our presence here that he was able to manifest. His brother, Hiraz, had made Glyphstone Keep, or at least this level of its dungeons, into his lair for some time. But now he had made alliances with our enemies.

Someone asked about the nature of the Hiraz’s slave. Sorrel said he was of no consequence, but I said that we should converse away from the slave, in case he were to reveal our intentions to his master when Hiraz returned. Sorrel admitted this to be an issue and stated his intent to therefore kill the slave but we were able to get him to move to the rug storage room instead. In there he was searching through the rugs; he said he was looking for a magical rug his brother, a skilled weaver, had produced. He was unable to locate the one in question and did not explain what it was for.

We spoke with him further and Sorrel then told us of news from Zerasha. She had communed with The Dark One and learned that Avashad had placed here Governor Trazzen, the vampire lord who had hounded us since his appearance in the Graywall arena, giving him full authority over Glyphstone Keep. Avashad had, at least in Droaam, presented himself openly as a rakshasa, a terrible sign since his ancient kind tended toward subterfuge and shapeshifting as a rule. Magnus and Clarion described to Sorrel our interaction with Lucerix and Avashad, much to Sorrel’s interest. Zerasha, he said, believed that Avashad had acquired an ancient device—possibly here in Glyphstone Keep and of Dhakaani design—that he intends to use against the great nation of Breland to some horrible end. However the artifact’s destructive power is only meant as a distraction, there is some greater game being played. Nonetheless, I vow to myself to destroy this device at all costs, Long Live His Holiness King Boranel.

We searched the next room with Sorrel, a tapestry room with several fine tapestries hanging from the walls. Likewise, war banners were displayed on tables in the center of the room. Each of the banners depicted a different version of the same beautiful harpy, slaying her foes with her deadly voice or rending claws. Sorrel named the harpy as Callain of the Bloody Word, ruler of a clan of notorious harpies from the Byeshk Mountains and one of the few that did not pay tribute to the hags that govern Droaam.

The tapestries on the wall were of more subtle design. But I noticed in particular two of them that depicted humanoid figures that interested me for some reason—a young human in the uniform of an Emerald Claw knight and another human wearing cold weather gear. I touched the second tapestry and detected a strong magical emanation; I also noticed the human in the banner bore many tattoos that immediately reminded me of Magnus’s but they were white instead of red. I told Magnus to look at it and he recognized the man as a Seren. He turned away after a warning from Sorrel to not look upon the tapestry for too long or Magnus would switch places with the man! For indeed real men were trapped inside the tapestry's magical threads. Extradimensional magic!

We decided to attempt to retrieve the Seren human from the tapestry and Sorrel dragged in the slave to swap with the Seren. Magnus, Aleae, and Kard were very uncomfortable with forcing him to do this, but we promised to take the tapestry back with us and return the man to Fairhaven, the capital of Aundair, where his family was. Although Kard was particularly against this course of action, Sorrel was much in favor, and stated that if the man did not submit to this, he would slay him. Kard, perhaps because he is duty-bound to a religious order, once again spoke in the man's defense, allowing for neither the death or the imprisonment of the man.

In fact, this would be the only means of rescuing him from the chains of his bondage. At last, after Kard vowed to liberate the man afterwards, the slave gave consent. He thanked Kard, then stared into the tapestry. Within a minute's time he was transposed with a short, dense and lean-muscled human with reddish-dark skin and white tattoos covering his body. Sahlessh, the white-painted Seren, likewise had white hair and a narrow tied beard. He was not very forthcoming with information. Magnus talked with him and made common references but Sahlessh was cautious to not divulge too much and he seemed especially distrusting of Magnus!

We determined that he was a monk from a tribe on Seren with an affinity for the cold-breathing white dragon and that he had been trapped in the tapestry almost a year ago by Hiraz.

Sahlessh asked us a lot of questions but he followed along as we went to clear out the rest of the rooms on this floor. Sorrel and Sahlessh spoke briefly beyond our hearing, then the oni left us to investigate deeper levels of the structure but not before telling us about a carpet that his brother was rumored to have made. Woven into the carpet was a teleportation circle that allowed swift passage between Glyphstone Keep—here, well within Breland's borders—and the Tower of Shrouds in Droaam. That I cannot abide, especially if the Avashad had allied himself with harpies and who knew what else!

We continued our exploration. As Aleae, Clarion, and Kard studied the pool and glowing chalice in the vast central chamber, in one of the rooms on the north side, I found a writing desk and noticed indentations in the papers stacked there had been used for notetaking. I grabbed some ash from a room that was completely burned of any evidence and used my expended griffon feather to dust the indentations for information. This yielded the words “Children of Winter” and “Frost,” the latter as a proper noun.

As I finished gathering evidence in the writing room, I heard the telltale shout of impending battle from outside the room. Sahlessh was calling out. I quickly tucked the remaining ash and feather into one of my many pockets and readied my magical whip, the Tongue of Hrasta, for battle.

#83 - Enter the Weaver

As told by Magnus of the Island of Seren.

We were safe and confined in a clean space but we weren’t clean. The smell from the globs and smears of the ghouls’ blood and flesh, still caked on our armor, was just awful. It kept me awake for a few minutes, listening to Irakas and Cypher talk and make a map of our floor here underground. Her time sitting in the throne and wearing the Emperor’s Key medallion had given her awareness of this level’s dimensions. I scraped the smelliest bits off me and then drifted off to sleep to the sound of Cypher unpacking and re-packing all his stuff.

When we woke up, hours later, again we had improved in our manifestation of the dragon in each of us, new spells and new abilities.  I am feeling more durable than ever. The smell from the undead slime on us all was overpowering and we were all ready to leave. Except Irakas.

She wanted to stay near the throne and study the “altar” here. When we asked for the Emperor’s Key back, she suggested that she would like to stay here, with the Key and her guards and try to learn more about the keep. She even suggested that if we were to find the scepter that once filled the empty brackets on the altar, her knowledge and power here might grow. The awful smell kept the conversation short.  It might be useful to have the Key with us to open doors and stuff, but having her here, learning more and guarding the one safe place we have found would be better still.  She escorted us past the bronze golem and there we discovered some skeletons and a corpse (obviously killed by the golem) lying in a puddle of blood before it.  Someone had come looking for us and died. The corpse had been a living man, and had been cut in half by the golem’s glaive.

In looking at the corpse, we noticed that he was a member of the Emerald Claw, a mercenary group dedicated to its own (evil) purposes. What are they doing down here? As Simel drew in for a closer look and lifted the body to examine it, we all noticed that the inside of Simel’s reversible cloak was the same color as the Emerald Claw’s green uniform.  He said he used it as a disguise to kill Claw members in the past. We still do not know much of his story. He seems to look forward to killing members of the Claw here underground. We agree on that at least.

We left Irakas and made our way to the curtain, feeling very exposed here in the giant throne room.  We sidled along the edge and up to the massive curtain where Cypher sent Rungo up to the ceiling to scout ahead. As he cleared the room/ hallway beyond the curtain, we followed along.  As we made our way, and approached the wall of rooms, we heard music coming from the weaver’s room—the room where the chained man had been. Using “stealth” (as we understand it), we entered the rug room and then Kard opened the weaving room to see what was going on. The chained man pointedly ignored him. The whole group entered and Cypher unlocked a few more doors.

Not all onis look the same, but most are big,
blue/purple, and carry massive swords.

As the group went over the room again, I lied down on the bed (why didn’t we sleep here?), it did seem like someone slept here recently. Kard suggested I look around and I peeked under the bed. Seeing a spear, I grabbed it but it sprouted spikes.  I dropped it and let the group have a look. Soon enough I poke it back under the bed as we are deciding to leave.

I head out into the hallway with Cypher.  I hear Aleae talking about the jar she had seen in the chest full of cloth, and she started to rummaging about for it. Just then a new voice speaks. “There is no need for violence,” I heard it say after something else. I spared a peek into the room and see a silk-clad oni with fangs and flowing garments, and a very larger curving sword. A large, shimmering white-clear hand had appeared and wrapped itself around Aleae, holding her in place. Threatening to squeeze. She did not like that! Kard tried to negotiate with the oni, whose spell, he assured us, could snap her bones easily. The oni spoke as though this was his home and we had trespassed. Aleae started scolding him about keeping a creature (the human) chained.  The oni asked the party to drop their weapons as were obviously the group that has been killing and making messes all around here.  The party refuses and the oni raised scimitar to strike. Aleae was bound to be crushed by the conjured, disembodied hand.

The battle began just as Cypher and I heard, then saw some creatures headed our way down the hall. Cypher called Dar for light and Rungo reported some kind of beaked creature walking towards us. The creatures were lit up by my torch as they got closer and Dar casted her entangling vines spell on the two large creatures. They had shelled backs like giant beetles and huge sweeping blades built into their arms where hands should have been.  I don’t know what they were but they didn’t quite seem like the abominations we have fought. No tentacles or slime. But they were something new to kill!

While the rest of the party was dealing with the oni—lots of spells going off, and Aleae somehow just magically stepped from inside the closing fist to a space fifteen feet away—I charged the two beaked creatures and landed a jumping smash on the one that was not held in vines.  Flames and ice flashed brightly as I took on the aspect of greatest of dragons!  It withstood my two blows from Defiler’s Bane but will still rather pulped.  Rungo, Dar, and Cypher rushed in to help kill it.

After some more fighting, the oni flew out into the hallway and blasted Cypher and Dar with a lightning bolt. Both avoided the worst of it. One of the hooked, beaked things died and we turned on the other. Having foughtan oni in the arenas of Droaam, I knew that its spells will make it very hard to kill.  I intended to try.

Then a black, misty darkness began to envelop the oni, and I felt an unpleasant sensation in the palm of my hand.

#82 - The Glyphstone Throne

The elf-vampire-witch was a frozen paste on the wall. There were desiccated corpses loping our way and I moved over to smash one, and Rungo joined me. And then another. 

The fight was moving quickly and, I thought, nearly over. We were all retching and gagging from the smell of rot coming from the ghouls. Suddenly, behind us, Dar was attacked by the regenerating corpse of the elf thing. Pasting her wasn't enough, it seemed, and so the druid had blood sucked out of her shoulder. I moved over and mauled it once again, freezing it to the giant black curtain that hung on one side of this wide corridor. Seeing the ghouls were being dealt with, I tore her pasted-again corpse and headed back into the rug room. If mashing and freezing wouldn't kill her, maybe a big fire would. I know fire stops trolls from regenerating.

I walked into the room and threw her corpse on a pile of rugs. I splashed some oil on the body and then got ready to leave by pulling Aleae’s silver arrow and grabbing a useful everburning torch from the wall (not hot, just light). As I crouched down to strike some sparks into the oil, Clarion entered and interrupted me. He advised that he thought beheading would stop her visible re-growth. This was fine by me. He chopped off her head and doused the thing with holy water. The flesh and hair melted from the skull completely, and the ruin of her body stopped regenerating. He offered the elf-vampire skull to me and I accepted. He and I thought that this must me some kind of servant vampire since she seemed to lack all the vampiric powers we have seen at least once before. I hope that she is a servant of the hobgoblin vampire from Palurr Draal and that he will be sad when I stuff the skull up his nose.

Back in the hallway, we decided that we should go beneath the curtain to the throne room with ideas about using the Emperor’s Key to help with the big metal statue that Aleae had told us about. And maybe could access a place to hide. When we went under, we found ourselves in the largest chamber I have ever been in. Well, perhaps only the second largest. There was one that might have been greater that Cypher and I have been to.

A ziggurat and its throne dominated the far side of the room, which must have spanned three hundred feet from side to side. Dim purple lights in the corners gave us just enough to see our way around. The statue standing at the base of the steps at the throne was tall, bronze, and dangerous-looking if it really did move. Big stands on both sides of the chamber suggested this room could have also been an arena once.

We were thinking of seeking shelter behind one of the large stands, in hopes of resting undiscovered, but Irakas was once again worried about the messes we were leaving behind (we do often do that) and how it would make our enemies seek us out all the more. However, the she-hobgoblin did have one idea we found intriguing: According to her lore, whoever commands the throne of a goblin fortress also commands knowledge of the fortress itself. She believed that if one of us were to ascend the stairs and sit upon the throne, using the Emperor's Key. (We casually refer to it as such, but to newcomers like Simel and Dar, they see us discussing a bronze medallion.)

Immediately, Cypher volunteered. 

Irakas said he needed to go with confidence to convince the magic that he was the rightful ruler of this place and had the right to command the power of the Key. Irakas offered to do it, but Clarion also offered to be the one. Won’t the magic know that they are constructs?  They are not hobgoblins, as the rulers of Glyphstone once were. We have used it in the past, though. Cypher would do that now.

Cypher walked up the statue, which moved into a defensive position.  He commanded it to “Stand down.”  It made no move.  Cypher made his past it, climbed the steps, and sat upon the Dhakaani throne. Nothing seemed to happen and he returned shortly afterwards. If nothing else, the Emperor's Key protects the wearer from the golem, but it does not seem to allow us to command it.

In the meantime, we have gotten too close to the statue and it had advanced upon us with its massive glaive held up to strike. We backed up. Seeing Cypher return, Irakas once again suggested that she would be the one to use the Emperor's Key.  We had second thoughts. But somehow, to me, she seemed in earnest. She has been very clear that she believes that she should return the Key to the “rightful” owners (hobgoblins).

This may be her quest just as the rescue of Seren is mine. The Key came to us seemingly accidentally and we have kept it from dark forces. It may be time to let it go. Irakas may be a more rightful keeper than we are, she has the most legitimate claim (she is a hobgoblin given the task).

Maybe she will restore order to this abandoned keep, overrun with dark beings. Maybe she is the rightful one. I am not planning to spend my life restoring this keep, but certainly the world would benefit if it was. I let the party know that I think she should have it.  It seemed that others have similar thoughts and, for the first time since we rescued the Key, we turned it over to another. Irakas accepted it slowly and thanked Cypher for the trust. Her two remaining guards were immediately more content to see it in her possession. 

The Emperor's Key

The dirge singer placed it around her shoulders and walked past the bronze golem, up to the throne, and sat down. I didn't know what happened up there but she appeared to look around the chamber as if we weren't there, as if she was looking at a different place or time. While we were standing dumbly at the golem's feet, some of us heard noises of marching and troops. Clarion messages the information about the party with his magic. We were in no condition to fight anything like soldiers.

Clarion then messages Irakas and she seemed to notice us again. She pointed to a corner at the base of the ziggurat itself and we all met there. As she arrived, she pushed on an unseen panel in the wall and a secret door is revealed. We entered, closed the door and Irakas lead us to a hall and a chamber situated directly beneath the throne.

“We are safe here," she said. "We can rest.” There are no beds, but I am ready to sleep anywhere. The floor welcomed me as I hear Cypher digging into his pack, looking for paper and ink to write down and sketch whatever it is that the hobgoblin woman learned.