#126 - Reprieve

Zarantyr 25th, 999 YK

The battle raged on, but diminished to mostly one front. Bale continued to bait and sling his dark eldritch blasts at the gnolls who disengaged from whatever it was that was occupying them at large. Hidden within a sphere of darkness, he pulled both Magnus and Clarion along as they fought against the gnolls with equal parts advantage and frustration.

Cypher soon reappeared, stepping out of the portal that Aleae had been eyeing. He called to his companions, trying to rally them into a retreat and insisting that he had reconnecting with Elidac and the other wizards. Some sort of reprieve was being offered, if only they would follow him into the portal.

This took some time. Bale was reluctant to lose his strategic engagements, but the truth was that more and more enemies were coming—gnolls continued to approach. Harpies began to arrive and with their luring songs they even ensnared, briefly, both Cypher and Aleae. The eladrin was pulled back from exposing herself to the gnolls' attacks by the serpentine coils of Arafin, while Cypher suffered injuries for his temporary trance.

Magnus, Clarion, and Bale made corpses of many gnolls, and even a handful of their pet hyenas, while Cypher and Wynn did what they could to hurry the group into its retreat. A scimitar-wielding harpy, one the party had fought earlier but did not slay, even joined the fray.

Eventually the party did retreat in full, and one by one stepped through the mist portal that had sprung out of nowhere. An Arcane Gate, it brought each of the PCs through inter-dimensional space....

....to a floating chunk of rock high above the ground near the wizards' citadel, which itself floated in the interior of Glyphstone Keep's above-ground levels. It was a cavernous, outdoor-seeming space enclosed by the walls of the fortress but open, in parts, to the night sky. Stars winked through the gaps in the vault, while the Lharvion, the Eye—a dull white moon slitted with black—shone upon them. The rock they had landed upon was smooth at its top and had plenty of space to fit everyone—even Arafin, who coiled up and looked uneasy in such an open space.

The party was still uncertain about withdrawing from the battle, though their wounds were glad for this moment to regroup. One hundred feet away, they could see another raised platform illuminated by magelights, and could see figures moving around there. Elidac and his wizards.

A woman floated over to them, carried on currents of magic through the open air. It was Charise, the Cyran, who was also one of the powerful wizards residing up here in Glyphstone's above-ground remains. The party—discounting Wynn, Izzeth, and Bale who were both newcomers—had last seen Charise and the others of Elidac's conclave, several days before when they had been sent off to seek out Talor "the Justicator." She was middle-aged, short of hair, and her attire was more akin to a swashbuckler's than a traditional wizard's robes, and she wore a half-mask for reasons unknown. Those who remembered her recalled that hers was the "memory" scene that took place in one of Cannith's secret forgeholds.

Quickly, Charise explained that it was the disturbing of the Cauldron—and the energies surrounding it—that had triggered their awareness of the party. More importantly, Charise said that her cohort, the wizard Garrek, had requested interference on their behalf. When she first opened the Arcane Gate, she had beckoned Cypher through it and asked him, "Is it true that there is a Captain Dennavar among them?" When he didn't know how to respond, she clarified: "Captain Wynn Dennavar."

To this he confirmed, and so Charise had said, "Elidac has granted permission to afford you temporary sanctuary—we will return you again, when ready. Hurry, gather you companions.”

And so now they were all here, standing, fidgeting, or pacing around this large floating rock. With a gesture, a dome of energy encircled most of the it. "Elidac has been enspelled this space with an arcane matrix that delays time itself," she explained. "For every hour that passes within, only a  minute will pass without. If you choose to rest, you may do so here. When you are ready, no longer than three hours from now, we can return you to a place of your choosing."

The party had questions, of course, and Wynn was insistent upon seeing the wizard Garrek, but Charise waved it all away for now. "I will speak with Elidac and tell you what we learn."

She gave them a handful of "spare" scrolls for their use, and a curious book. Concerning the latter, she said, “This book offers requires a little bit of risk, but from what I understand, can provide some benefit—even in so short a time as now. It will do you no harm. But it’s from Zilargo.” She winked, then left them to it.

As Charise floated away from the rock, allowing them to take what rest they wanted, a couple of figures appeared across the distance, standing at the edge of their own platform. Backlit by magelights, they were robed man. Wynn stood and watched them, clearly anxious to make contact. One of the figures waved sadly, then turned away.

Cypher looked at the book Charise had given them. Its title was The Book of Inquiry: Trust, and the Examination of Remunerative Truths and Gainful Slights. He found that it would not open in the middle, only to the very first page. Within was an inscription: "Property of the Library of Korranberg. 972 Year of the Kingdom."

If the date was accurate, the book was created 27 years ago, long before the destruction of Cyre or the end of the Last War. In 972 YK, even the warforged were new to the world. What was a book owned from the Library of Korranberg doing here? These wizards had certainly accumulated strange treasures, and has unknowable resources.

Beneath the label was the following text.

"The instructions are simple. Turn the page and a question will appear. It must be asked of one of your companions and answered truthfully. They, in turn, must turn to the following page and ask the next question of another companion, until all of them have been answered and every companion has answered at least twice, if possible. Any lie spoken or question declined will render this examination a failed one. Acquiescence, however, may reward you. Think carefully. Do not answer in haste, only in truth."

In smaller text was written at the bottom of the instructions page:

"It is the author’s personal advice that this book be reserved only for the most amiable of dinner parties."

#125 - Attrition

The Journal of Wynn Dennavar 

Zarantyr 25th, 999 YK

We dispatched the skeletons and ghouls and piled the corpses in one of the hallways leading out to the gnoll camp. Izzeth laid the remains of Arafin's mate there with her blessing.

I checked in on the activities around Trazzen's lair. We had to destroy the soil from his homeland that allowed him to recover his strength. That I, as a mundane human, could be foiled by the inability to destroy a few cubic feet of earth was frustrating enough. That my magically inclined companions were equally bemused was even worse. As I left, Aleae set to destroying the sarcophogi with her telekinetic magic.

In the chaos following our dispersal when Trazzen fled, Cypher had gone missing. Where could he have wandered to? We were surrounded—undead behind, gnolls ahead, and harpies above. Aleae called Arafin over to inspect a strange circular portal that had appeared in one of the recessed walls on the approach the gnoll camp, inaccessible from our side. Cypher might have passed through it, but we couldn't follow.

The commotion in the gnoll camp was growing louder. In an unlikely alliance, Bale and Clarion agreed to distract their rear guard to support Irakas and the golem. Izzeth and Magnus remained in the Cauldron's chamber to watch the undead and alert us to any ambush from behind.

I kept to the middle in the hallway by the lair, ready to join wherever the fight worsened. In Trazzen's lair, Aleae started flinging acid around. The caustic smell made my eyes water, but appeared to have some effect on the soil.

As the distant barking of the gnolls increased, Arafin warned me about danger coming from the door at the narrow end of the hall. I moved over and listened for whatever her keener ears had caught.

I heard an inhuman voice that I recognized as the leader of the dolgaunts, the one with the beholder's eye fused to his chest. He was calling out for the leader of the harpies. From our brief time in this area and Bale's map, I knew that our rearguard's line of sight to them was broken by the mound of undead, but a banner couldn't have announced our presence more.

I braced against the door just before the dolgaunt slammed into it. The door rattled in the frame. It wasn't going to hold out long. I gestured to Arafin and Aleae that we were about to engage the enemy.

Bale and Clarion continued to harry the gnolls, who had been alerted to our presence at last. The warlock and paladin had found some way to work effectively together, and the audible yelps were full of pain and frustration. I could even hear the barking laughs of their hyena pets!

The door broke off its hinges under the dolgaunt's second charge, and a ray of fire seared it as I stepped back to the entrance of the narrow hallway. I didn't recall this dolgaunt being a caster; he had brought allies. The hall was narrow enough that only the dolgaunt could enter. Immediately his shoulder-tentacles wrapped around me, preventing any further retreat. As long as I continued to block the entrance and give Aleae time to finish her task and retreat, I wasn't intending to move.

Izzeth rejoined us, having heard the door or seen movement through the wall of undead. He cast a spell and grasping vines materialized beneath the dolgaunt and back through the hallway, snaring him and his ally.

The dolgaunt was easy to hit entangled by the vines, but he had healed and rested since our last encounter. He tried to stun me with well-placed blows, barely turned by my damaged armor. If I ever caught up to Garrick and made it out of here my first task would be to have it repaired. Each day down here that possibility seemed to grow more distant.

A ray of frost shone over my shoulder, making the very air around it suddenly cold. It glanced off the horrid, independent eye in the center of the dolgaunt's chest and it rebounded, nearly hitting me. Light cascaded through the doorway as the pile of undead caught fire—that had to be Magnus's doing. The corridor flooded with the unpleasant mix of burning, rotting flesh and plenty of oil. Yes, definitely Magnus.


Izzeth tried to close with the dolgaunt with his purple, byeshk hand-scythe. The dolgaunt's attention was fixed on it with alarm, even as his tentacles dug into my skin and drained my strength.

Tight quarters had been a fine idea when I was stalling for time, but now it was benefiting our enemy. Arafin reached her considerably larger body around me, coiling as if to constrict me, but she dragged me back to break the dolgaunt's grip instead. Once freed, I dove back in and grabbed the creature as it struggled free of the entangling vines. I dragged it out of the hall into the open space where Izzeth sliced into it. I ducked as another ray of frost flew past, but this time struck and froze the dolgaunt's head in ice.

I dropped the corpse and quickly donned my shield—Simel's old shield. This was turning into a battle of attrition, and I needed to outlast rather than outfight.

Izzeth warned me about the creature through the door and around the corner, the floating gauth, but I could hear the heavy footfalls of Clarion close by.

The gnolls still barked, the hyenas laughed their eerie laugh. The undead continued to burn. Irakas and the golem still hadn't arrived and Cypher hadn't returned from whatever demiplane had apparently swallowed him up.

And worse, there were still enemies unaccouted for.