#124 - Upsetting the Cauldron

The Journal of Wynn Dennavar 

Zarantyr 25th, 999 YK

Trazzen worked his gaze on me again, and this time I couldn’t resist it. Why would I resist it? Why were we resisting anything? The confusion was brief, then I became irrationally convinced that was all a misunderstanding, and a dangerous one for us all. “Us” including my newfound ally: the vampire lord himself. I was convinced that we needed to stop this fight against Trazzen. The compulsion he placed on me couldn’t turn me against my allies, but I was utterly convinced that I had to stop them from doing something we’d regret.

I turned my back to Trazzen—some inner part of me shouted a desperate warning, but was ignored—and sought Clarion. We had no leader, but it’s hard to heed the call of a paladin if I could convince him to lay down arms. I snatched the steel-shod quarterstaff from Clarion’s hand and told him, “We’re going about this all wrong. This has to stop.”

His expression, naturally, didn’t change. “You’re right. We need to take this fight to him.” A deliberate misinterpretation—I suspect that he was aware of the magic’s hold me. He turned from the lesser undead and set off for Trazzen. But I caught his arm and held him back. A half-ton of wood, steel, and stone. If I hadn’t been dazed by the charm, I would have been astounded by my own strength. Or stupidity.

Before Clarion could react, Izzeth interrupted and lifted the charm from me with a spell. I released Clarion. Dwarfed in his shadow, even armed and armored, I felt distressingly reminded how dangerous warforged can be at close quarters.

This fight was rapidly devolving on too many fronts. Bale struggled to guard the far door while blasting skeletons back into his writhing darkness. Aleae was taking shelter behind the slain dragon, likely out of spells. And when I turned back around, Magnus was hanging in Trazzen’s grip and beginning to turn blue. Despite his already considerable size, the vampire would be far stronger than any hobgoblin.

Clarion’s declaration had at least turned our attention toward the most pressing threat—even as the bony coils of the undead naga arose again to rejoin the battle. Cypher worked an infusion and Trazzen’s metal armor began to hiss. Izzeth added his own magic to it, and the bronze metal began to glow brightly, scorching Magnus through the gauntlet around his throat, but charring the vampire even more.

Trazzen made a swift tactical decision. Not lingering to be cooked in his own armor, he released Magnus and both he and his armor dissolved into mist, which flowed away across the floor. Arrows from Magnus’s fire bow simply passed through it. Trazzen escaped, but left us unattended with the Cauldron.

That's totally a vampire in mistform.

We finished off the hideous longfingers and other undead, and hurried to seize the chamber. Knowing little about the Cauldron and its magics, I instead assisted Bale in securing the side door, behind which we could hear clawing and pounding from more of the Cauldron’s creations.

Aleae and Cypher dove into the notes and ingredients behind the Cauldron. I heard glass clinking and papers rusting, then the cracking of stone as snake-Izzeth crushed the huge stone barrels that appear to be used for transporting the Mire, rendering them useless. Cypher had spied labels upon each that presumably indicated their eventual destinations: Xandrar (a town in northern Breland), Wroat

(Breland's capital city), and one simply labeled Spare.  There were none labeled Sharn.

Cypher announced his discovery first. In order to disrupt the Cauldron’s progress, we needed to throw in a powerful magical or religious item. Magnus clambered up the Cauldron, standing on the ring of skulls, and threw in his fire elemental bow. We heard it strike the thick sludge within, and there was a sucking sound as it sank. Nothing happened.

We had no religious artifacts. Clarion couldn’t imbue an object with sufficient power to disrupt a powerful creation like the Cauldron, and Cypher claimed that the weapon of the Silver Flame he carried wouldn’t work unless someone attuned to it. We didn’t have an hour to spare.

So, it became the work of us grunts again. With a little nudging, Aleae and Cypher deigned to join me, Magnus, Izzeth, and Clarion in tipping the Cauldron off the dais. As we strained and heaved, we heard Bale beginning to fire eldritch blasts through the crumbling door at the foes beyond.

Finally, the Cauldron toppled over, spilling a fair amount of the black Mire upon the ground, where it pooled and fumed. The mere smell of it made my eyes sting and my stomach sour. I shudder to think of its effect on bare skin. Both Cypher and Aleae remained in place as we backed off—paralyzed by its toxins for a short time and had to be carried away to recover.

It was a failure, in the end. We didn’t destroy the Cauldron, nor Trazzen. But we had stalled him, and it was not yet time for a tactical retreat. Bale indicated the back of the chamber, where he suspected Trazzen’s lair was, and we hurried to secure the area and find what else we could vandalize before Irakas arrived, if she hadn’t been waylayed. It was too risky to venture out into the larger open floor with the gnolls and harpies to look for her.

Cypher worked on the lock of a plain door, while Aleae and Clarion checked for entrances hidden in the walls. Izzeth slithered further into the hall, hidden low to the ground. Before long, I heard the sounds of combat behind us—the undead had finally forced their way through the door and into the chamber.

I returned to the chamber to fight more undead—ghouls, mostly, heralded by a horrible stench—and discovered that Arafin had rejoined us. She looked somewhat worse for wear—though I couldn’t speak for our own appearances after the long fight—and was coiled around the skeleton of the bone naga. Her mate.

There was little time for her grief. As we fought the ghouls and skeletons around the fallen Cauldron, we exchanged brief reports of our activities. Arafin had lain low, possibly amidst the gnoll camp, and took the opportunity to approach the Cauldron upon hearing the commotion we made.

From the back of the chamber where the others were, I only heard snatches of sound, a spell unleashed, the pounding of heavy running warforged feet, all over the background chaos from the gnoll camp, which was growing ever louder. Whatever was occurring out there was coming to a head, and soon.

It was my hope that at least Cypher, Izzeth, Clarion, and Aleae had found Trazzen's resting place. If we could deny him that shelter, there was a greater chance of defeating him!