#110 - Battle for the Scepter of Glyphstone Keep

From the Annals of the Gateekeper Izzeth, Druid of Dagger Wood

An age ago, the Dhakaani had an empire that spanned the entire continent of Khorvaire. Their rule lasted for thousands of years and ultimately ended when Xoriat, the Realm of Madness, became coterminous with Eberron and the Daelkyr were able to walk upon our soil. When these anathemic beings attempted to seize Eberron for their own, the goblin empire resisted and waged a war against the invaders the likes of which has never been seen before. And we never be seen again...if my order has anything to say about it. It was druids of my order who saved the world then by closing the gates between worlds and preventing these most foul aberrations from crossing over.

The massive crustacean that was attempting to crush Wynn between its pincers was a chuul, a leftover aberration from that war many thousands of years ago—and I am sworn to send it back into the oblivion from which it came. If only I had regained the Crescent of Therendor sooner, it would have made this fight easier.

After flooding part of the chamber to limit the intrusions of the kobolds on our fight, I shifted into a boa constrictor of considerable size. Although boas were common in the jungles of my homeland, the giants were relatively rare—but not so rare that I'd not had to escape the attack of one myself. Constrictors are fierce predators, skilled on land and in water, tremendously strong, and capable of tying up enemies within their coils. As I altered my form, the sticky kelp-like substance surrounding Hothyr's pool stuck to my body and fixed me firmly in place. With my movements restricted, I wasn't able to get my new serpentine body around the chuul, so I had to settle for sinking my fangs deep into its chitinous plate. (The byeshk blade of the Crescent would have sunk much deeper.) As I was withdrawing my fangs to prepare for another bite, Simel stepped out from behind a wall and sunk several arrows into the chuul, then Wynn stabbed her spear into its mass, lodging deep into armor, flesh, and its vitals. The aberration let out a gutteral shriek and collapsed into the murky waters, sinking slowly but largely in place by the kelp.

We turned our attentions towards the massive water naga. But Hothyr, but upon seeing his protector dispatched, uttered an incantation and three more likenesses of him appeared—then all four Hothyrs dove beneath the surface of the blackwater pool. Arafin, seeing Hothyr flee, dove beneath the surface. At the same moment a new set of bubbles began to froth at the center of the pool: something else was coming.

Magnus by then was nearly at the center of the pool, traversing the surface of the water slowly bur surely, both hindered and enhanced by various magics. Rather than waiting for the new arrival, he dove beneath the surface of the water to welcome it. I must confess: I've seen the courage of humans many times in my life, but only one other have I seen as fearless (or foolhardy) as this one.

In my snake form I was coiled to the side and so I spent the brief pause in combat to free myself from the sticky kelp. Wynn was beside me disentangling herself from the now-slackened grasp of the slain chuul. Clarion was on the other side of her, I am not sure where Aleae was, for I had not seen her since we entered the chamber. She might well have been lingering inside the dark water I'd risen—it was so dark it might as well have been the ink of a great octopus.

As I shook free of the last of the sticky slime a terrible clang rang out from the passage behind us. I have not seen a great deal of combat indoors, but it sounded like an axe resounding off of a stone wall, and it was far louder than I would have ever imagined it to be. I knew something very large must be in the passage behind us and I feared that Aleae was the target of that axe. Wynn and Clarion raced into the passageway to meet the new foe and from the sounds of it, they took more than they gave. For all my new companions' lack of strategy, they are cohesive and quick to rescue one another from danger.

Drawing upon the magic of Eberron herself, I once again reached out to the water in the pool, this time commanding it to part. Instantly, the waters separated, revealing a slimy, stony floor a mere fifteen feet below the rim of the pool. In the spot where the bubbles were coming from there was a circular pit with some sort of membrane stretched across it. The membrane had a slash across it, allowing an entry from the space below. On the far side of the pit, the four Hothyrs were revealed, looking somewhat surprised that the murky waters were no longer sheltering them. Magnus, who was near the pit with the membrane, fell to the ground with a light thud—and yet he rolled over in what I could only describe as rapturous fury. Truly, this human has either perfected the art of rage, or he is utterly mad.

Arafin, who was on the near side of the pit, also fell to the ground without the water to support her, but with a considerably louder thud. Also revealed was some of Hothyr's treasure in the form of a small chest and a couple of objects bound in chains beside it. That might have been difficult to locate in the dark water.

I was confident that moving that much water would flood the passage behind us and at least slow the approach of whatever beast had been wielding that axe. I later learned that the axe had been wielded by an ettin, a two-headed giant that seems inspired by the worst aspects of a hill giant and an orc. Exceptionally dim-witted and strong.

Before I could think to follow my new companions into the passageway, something emerged from the membrane. A moist brain the size of a mastiff began to birth-push its way up and out. As it rose a sharp beak could be seen capping the brain and a vast cluster of tentacles dangling beneath. At the end of each tentacle was a sharp barb capable of delivering a paralytic poison. The creature floated unnaturally upon the air. I know of these aberrations, another hideous species that survived the Daelkyr war. This one was a grell. Grells generally prefer ambush to open combat, but they can be fearsome oppositions.

Magnus pulled himself to his feet, charged into the space between the grell and Hothyr and slammed his massive bone club into the ground, muttering a word in Draconic. In so doing, he unleashed a storm from above and massive chunks of ice rained down from the ceiling onto both Hothyr and the grell. Hothyr shrugged off the ice as if it were no more than a dusting of snow flurries—some sort of spell shield protected him—but the grell seemed to be injured by the storm.

I charged forward and attacked the grell myself, while Simel peppered it with arrows from the pathway that surrounded the mostly-empty pool. Despite my agility as a giant snake, I had great difficulty landing my attacks and desperately wished that I had the Crescent in my hand.

In response to the ice storm, Hothyr mouthed a few magic words and the disappeared from sight. This did not have the feeling of an invisibility spell and I sensed that he had teleported somewhere nearby—he would not likely vacate his lair lair altogether and leave his treasures behind. Nagas are too covetous for that, as indicated by our previous battle against the spirit nags.


With Hothyr out of sight, Magnus joined Simel and I in engaging the grell, but as he did so something flew at us from the southwest corner of the chamber, I think it may have been a small bead or red gem, for when it landed on the ground, it burst into a massive fireball that nearly burned us all. Luck was with us though and our quick reflexes saved our hides, resulting in only a minor crisping around the edges.

At this point, I'll admit, I began to worry. We had been fighting for a long time and had not even begun to touch our primary opponent. Aberrations are not minor creatures and we had already fought two of them! How many more were in store for us? And what had kept Aleae so silent throughout this fight? A wizard capable of the damage that she inflicted on the gricks should be making her presence felt, and yet I could not even tell she was in the room, perhaps she was still within the murky waters?

I tried to coil my snake body around the grell, to constrict it and hold it in place, but it deftly wriggled its tentacles out of my grasp—unfortunately for it, it wriggled right into the path of Magnus's club. The barbarian's strike left it dazed long enough for Simel to bury more arrows deep into the mass at the back of the brain, and at last the grell floated softly to the ground, a graceful death indeed.
As a snake, I have access to senses that my normal form does not—my immediate surroundings were as sharp with smell as with sight—and I was able to sense the presence of a being in the southwest end of the room, in the same direction that the small bead had come from. What's more, it was apparent that there was a commotion of some sort happening behind those waters, so I made my way there. As I approached, there were many forms in the waters: one was definitely Arafin, another Wynn, and I suspect the others were Hothyr and his likenesses. Only the nagas seemed unimpeded by the waters.

Simel, Magnus, and at last Aleae were all loosing arrows into the wall of water that I had created, although it was difficult to tell whether they were finding their targets or not. Clearly, the water that I had parted to such positive effect for us earlier was becoming a hindrance now, so I once again tapped into the power of nature and moved the water, parting it to reveal Hothyr with my new companions surrounding him. I dropped out of my snake form in preparation for using my magic against our foe, but before I had a chance, a bolt of lightning emerged from one of the shields on the wall and shot out towards the opposite end of the chamber. Arafin, Wynn, and I were all scorched painfully by its force.

The arrows that had been loosed had clearly done some damage, because instead of finding four Hothyrs, there was only one remaining. Arafin and Hothyr were entangled in each other, desperately attempting to sink their fangs into flesh. Wynn was grievously wounded, with at least one of our party's own arrows lodged into her back. Clarion was on the far side of Hothyr and while I cannot be sure, I think I spied a bit of a smile in his eyes, although his construct's face did not reveal anything. Certainly his gemstones eyes had flared brighter now.

Clarion swung out with his weapon—a simple if well-made metal staff—and connected solidly with Hothyr's coils. The naga's concentration lapsed and the spell-resisting shimmer surrounding his body disappeared, then Clarion whispered a word of prayer, sidestepped one of Hothyr's coils and brought one end of his staff down on Hothir's head when it snaked within the warforged's reach. There was an immediate blinding light and what seemed to be the sound of thunder reverberating through the chamber. Hothyr's body went limp immediately and when my vision cleared, I noticed that there no longer seemed to be a head on the body. It had utterly exploded under the force of whatever spell Clarion had used.

Simel plunged himself back into the murky waters heading towards the ettin, but returned a few seconds later to tell us that the monster had stomped off in retreat. The dark waters I'd risen had kept the two-headed giant from entering the fray.

With the battle suddenly gone silent, we surveyed the chamber. At the far end were a set of steps leading up from the pool to a dias of some sort and resting on the dais was the Crescent of Therendor! At that moment, emotion overwhelmed me. All of the heartache of the last few months washed over me. I didn't realize what this weapon meant to me, the blade of my friend, my mentor, and my adopted father; I thought it was lost to me forever. Being reunited with it moments after avenging Duran was simply too much and I cried for a bit beyond the sight of the others.

When I was able to regain my composure, I saw the others gathered around the chest. The chest was filled with gems of considerable worth, but little else. What was more interesting was the bow that was wrapped in chains to weigh it down in the water. It was a long bow fashioned from darkwood that nearly resembled the skin of those who obviously had made it: the drow of the Sulatar tribe. The bow had all of the markings and inscriptions of my homeland, as well as two dragonshards at either end of the bowstring. This weapon most certainly had an elemental bound to it to harness the fire magics of my tribe. I relayed some of its nature to the group, but they seemed more interested in a scepter that Magnus had found wrapped with it.

Apparently, this scepter of steel and bronze was what they had been searching for to aid them in fighting the vampire lord who, according to them, governed the dungeons of Glyphstone, Trazzen. I do not know if it was coincidence that I joined this group or not, but it seems clear that our paths are entwined at this time. The stink of aberration is thick in this keep and I must find out if the seals are secure.

Of additional interest is the fact that this Trazzen is allegedly a hobgoblin who, in life, had ruled in the time of the Dhakaani Empire.

How powerful was a vampire thousands of years old?