#17 - Fiendish Revelations

A Seren village

Here, as the PCs take a much-needed rest in the goblin laboratory, the narrative is picked up by the Seren barbarian, Magnus, Bringer of Fire.

*          *          *

Finally! Some rest!

We woke up, rested and healed. While we slept, another change had come over us, also. It was as if some smoky mist had cleared and we were revealed to be newly made, but more like our true dragon selves.  Each of us had developed into a better version of himself; Doongal’s hammer now glows with powerful forge-light, for instance.

Cyzicus read his letter from the undead wight or ghastling we had killed, now known to be the remains of the ranger called Wolaf. Here it is, as relayed by Cyzicus in the Common tongue:

Koruun,

I am no chronicler. I am ill-suited to this task. But there is no other. Claviger has perished, and I cannot recover his body. Who do I pray to for the soul of a warforged? Onatar? Eberron herself? Does his soul roam Dolurrh or has his story ended? His death is on my conscience. I condemned him to this.

I must write of what I know, but I am dying. My wounds will not close. I must write swiftly.

I have learned what befell Paluur Draal, the City of the South. Once it was the southern bastion of the Dhakaani Empire. But as the Lords of Xoriat overwhelmed the other parts of the empire, the Governor became paranoid and desperate. He knew the horrors of the Daelkyr would soon reach his doorstep. From a deep pit within the mountain, he heard a distant voice. He coaxed it, made sacrifices, and found a way to make direct contact with it. The Governor listened, and formed a pact with it. Something slumbering in the depths, accepting its aid in defending his city from the aberrations of the Daelkyr.

But the cost was greater than the boon. His lieutenants became possessed by demons, and the Governor himself transformed into a creature of death and ravenous hunger. He fed on his own people and publicly executed citizens for the slightest infractions. The dar did their best to resist the Governor and his new regime. At great cost, they succeeded, driving their demon-possessed lords back into the vault of the mountain and sealing it with doors only the Emperor himself would be able to open.

We were wrong about Paluur Draal. The monsters that destroyed this place came from below—but it was not the daelkyr, at least not at first. The armies of Xoriat found a broken populace when they arrived and found it easy to slay or enslave those who remained.

I cannot prove any of this. I have learned this much from the mind of the creature that killed Claviger, that has killed me. It spoke truths in my mind that burn me still. They burrow through my skull like a relentless worm. Through it I have learned the name of the being the Governor came to serve, and I cannot get it out of my head. To think it is to fear it, to speak it is to weaken its bonds. I dare not write it. In turn, I know it knows of me now, where I came from, what I fight for, and the fact that I came here alone. Even without your approval, old friend. I am trapped here.

I do not know how to send this letter to you, Koruun. Warning you of this fiend is the only quest I have left and I am failing even in this. I have prayed that even after my death, someone will bear this message to you. If they succeed, then there may be hope.

Listen to me now. I believe this fiend is one of the rajahs from the Age of Demons, the first children of Khyber. If so, then it is the greatest threat we face now, for there are those abroad who work even now to free him. And he is stirring. They will not stop until they have opened the seals in the Seven Caves. The Draconic Prophecy speaks of several ways to do so.

The enemy knows that the Emperor of Dhakaan himself possessed an object that could open any gate erected by any of his subjects. The loyal, the remote, even the traitorous. All doors would be open to him. This object alone can remove some of the seals, but the rajah's servants do not possess it yet.

Koruun, I know you fear the opening of the Changegate. That day may come, but there are fiends already present we must be concerned with.

they will not sleep

forever

The governor now guards the nexus

he must not be fed

    i must stop

don't feel

the same

    anymore

need   hide

winter coalition must form

         claviger has

                            key

It gets very messy at the end there. Now, I don’t get all of it but it seems this "key" we have was involved in the collapse of this city, long ago.  The letter talks about voices in a pit and a deal with fiends. The fiends—demons?—were bound in seven caves and the key would get them out? This sounds like the lore from the old stories and shaman-legends I grew up with on Seren.  If any of it is true, it explains why all the forces chasing us will stop at nothing to get the key. Some of the others remember seeing “seven caves” on a map, so maybe it is true somehow.

Cyzicus (and his dead friend) thinks all this information needs to go directly to Cyzicus’s mentor. Do we go ourselves or do we go to the gnome city to get some help and transmit the story through some speaking stones? Maybe we go to the gnome city and take the lightning rail? I don't, but I’m along for the ride.

First, we have to get ourselves out of the cave we’re in! 

Halbazar remains manacled and mad, the Halbazar we see  in the mirror has given up. As Doongul smashes up the remains of the mirror (trying to get to the other side?) there is a big boom and clank from the top of the stairs. I grab a lantern to check it out, and a huge wave of (frightened?) rats pours down the stairs and disperses into the room, disappearing. At the top of the stairs there is a (now) open portcullis, I call for the rest of the party.

Xoma and Cypher come up to see about how the gate works, and if there is magic involved.  Whatever it is, it’s open and we can’t operate it.  Rendar and Doongul wrestle Hal up the stairs (he seems happy!) and tie a rope to his manacles and send him down the passage in front of us.  We form up and make our way.

The passage is long, so long that everyone thinks it’s weird. Cypher starts to say it looks familiar (from that flying messenger thing) and so I start making chalk marks on the wall to sort of record our passage. After a while, we come to a collapsed metal figure in the hall. Cypher steps up and identifies the dead thing as the warforged companion of Wolaf, from the letter and the flying thing. Claviger is (was) its name. Then the others loot the corpse. They tear off its arm to take an “arm-bow” and then rip open its body to take out some wand thing. I am amazed at their lust for stuff.

Anyway, we move a few more yards (or miles?) down this hallway and we see it open up into a room or something ahead. Then, we disarm Hal (I take two of his his oil flasks) because we don’t trust him in a fight. We push Hal up into the room and we can see stairs up left and stairs up right.  Rendar asks Hal, “Why are you smiling?”  Hal replies, “I know a secret.”  Weird. 

The party starts to enter the room—

Then, there is a big bump to the right, and suddenly, all the flame lights go out.  Good job Doongal for the glowing hammer!  Off to the right, a door opens and a huge pile of skulls and bones pours down the stairs and into the room, all over the floor, over a foot deep.

Cyzicus, who is up in front and checking the source of the bones, is attacked from above by a rake of super long swords. He whips around and yells out that there is a beastie up on a platform over the doorway we are coming from.

I hop into the room, and whip a spear at the nasty, bony undead up there, miss. Xoma slips in, takes one look and throws up a defense spell.  Doongul scurries in, casts a spell that conjures a magic floating hammer from his god that swipes at the creature, but misses. Cyzicus fires some arrows, which the creature bats aside. Rendar flings a hand ax that sticks in the thing's side, obvious damage but no blood.

The nasty lashes out with his claws, which extend from his hands and grow three or four yards as he swings!  I’m caught by surprise and he pulls my mace away from me up to his ledge—he’ll pay for that. The piles of bones start to rustle and a bunch of skeletons stand up out of the mix and start to attack. 

I chuck another spear up at it, but I can’t nail the thing. Xoma blasts the claw-beast with a huge boom of thunder which pushes it back against the wall of the alcove and the beastie seems hurt.  Xoma and I get back in the tunnel for some cover. Doongal clouts the nasty with his floating, glowing hammer and then holds up his holy symbol and shouts a command at the skeletons.

Cyzicus demolishes a skeleton with one massive slash from his scimitar. Rendar also blows one to pieces with his purplish scimitar, but his second swing hits only air. The undead on the ledge swings twice at Rendar who bobs out of the way—nice moves! Cypher boldly steps up and grabs a skeleton with his bare hand, letting loose some kind of lightening charge (that’s new!), it dies.

One of the skeletons runs directly away from Doongal, I guess his “blessing” worked. As it flees, Rendar takes a swipe and kills it outright!  In the confusion, Halbazar charges into Rendar with his hands still in manacles. Rendar isn’t expecting that and gets knocked over, down in the bones rolling around fighting with Hal, ugh.

I run out from the tunnel and chuck an oil flask at the nasty, splashing all over the place up there. Xoma then strides from the tunnel and casts a spell that covers the whole ledge (and upper part of the room) in darkness. Then Doongal (good man!) chucks a lit torch up on the ledge and we all hear that happy “woomph” noise of oil lighting up—no light though, the darkness spell prevails. That should flush that critter out of there so we can fight him on the ground.

Cyzicus swats at Hal and misses, Rendar hops up, swings at Hal, misses and then gets pushed back down by Halbazar. Tricky fighting for a guy with his hands in manacles! 

The nasty creature jumps down out of the darkness (it's really big, and has to duck down under the darkness spell to see) and slashes at Doongal who just hides behind his heavy shield as the claws clatter. 

The creature then slices Cypher with its long claws and the warforged is badly hurt—out of fighting commission, I think. I hurl one more oil flask at the critter and it hits dead on, soaking him (it?) but I can’t light it up. I then take a running leap, find some easy footholds and climb up the wall into the darkness on the ledge. Luckily my hand lands right on my mace, the darkness and leftover slippery, burning oil in the dark make me want out of the place right away.

Xoma steps up and casts a spell with a cone of fire, and lights the oil soaked creature aflame! Doongal then lets out his own thunderclap; pounding the big nasty again. His floating hammer misses a skeleton but Cyzicus demolishes it with his scimitar. Rendar pops up and pounds Hal; we need to get that situation under control!

The creature starts walking about and Doongal gets in a nice swat with his hammer, breaking some bone. I jump down out of the dark and land looking up at the big beastie. I smash it in the jaw with my mace and it drops, twitching.

“Finish it, Xoma!” I yell. And he does, with more fire from his hands.

It’s still burning when Xoma looks around and asks if any of the bones in the pile are sharp enough to be made into new weapons.  Sheesh, that drow is creepy!

#16 - The Wight Laboratory

After passing through a secret door in the wall—and provoking no more of the foul amorphous humanoids—the PCs descended a stairwell to another bronze door. The Emperor's Key once again opened it with a spoken command—this time by Doongul—and they came to another line of magic symbols carved into the floor. Study of the runes yielded little, but did suggest they were glyphs of warding. Meant to keep something out, or in. They had no trouble passing the runes themselves.

Beyond lay a dusty laboratory, clearly once used by the dar (goblinkind) and therefore these inner chambers were still somehow part of the city of Paluur Draal. It was a room of detritus, rot, shelves, beakers, crumbling scrolls and arcane books. And bodies. Several long dead bodies of human explorers or prospectors. In the center of the chamber, facing those who entered, was another slab of black, polished, mirror-like obsidian. This one was tall, floor to ceiling, and was built into a central column. Halbazar found himself staring into it—but disturbed by it, stepped back out of the room again.

Magnus and Doongul discovered the room's first hazard: hobgoblin skulls resting in alcoves which spewed foul poison when passing in front of them. Despite being sprayed by the deathly mist, Doongul toughed it out, only briefly weakened. Most of these skulls were simply smashed with hammer and morningstar.

Meanwhile, Rendar was the first to discover the first real problem. Halbazar's reflection in the dark mirror appeared to act quite differently than Halbazar himself. The image came forward, looking alarmed, and appeared to bang upon the surface of the obsidian—soundlessly. As if he were trapped in there. Meanwhile, Halbazar in body came forward, behind Rendar, and literally stabbed the half-orc in the back. No longer in possession of his own mind, Halbazar went mad. Rendar was bleeding from the nasty wound, but he turned and wrestled with the human, trying to subdue him!

But by this time the laboratory's chief had occupant appeared, standing on the stairway at the far end of the room.

A wight. Tall, long-nailed, sharp-toothed, ragged, bearded, once-human, in the torn cloak of his former life. Quite undead. He looked upon Cyzicus, and said, "Are you from the Eldeen?" When the shifter answered to the affirmative, the wight ordered "others" to attack, sparing only the shifter—at which point the corpses of the explorers, little more than husks and nails, rose to their feet and attacked.

With some painful hits and the draining touch of the wight himself—who leapt upon the very very walls and to maneuver around them—the creature and his corpse minions finally fell. As his own undead life was expiring, the wight clutched Cyzicus and told him to search beneath the stones, indicating a corner of the room.

Halbazar was eventually subdued and manacled by Rendar, with help. Though calmer now, he was still not himself. And his own silent image in the dark mirror remained despondent. During the fight, it was revealed that Halbazar was no longer able to cross the line of runes that warded the laboratory from the way the PCs had come.

As the party rested, Cyzicus discovered the loose flagstone in the corner of the room, where a folded-up, blood-stained letter had been written. The shifter read it first to himself, seeming deep in thought. His quest of finding a missing member of his order—a ranger named Wolaf—had come to an end.

#15 - Dark Mirrors

Cypher, stunned by the experience preserved in the final messenger's tale, eventually related it to the others. Cyzicus actually recognized the name of the human mentioned in Claviger's last memory: Wolaf, a range from the Eldeen Reaches and a member of his order, and the very man that Cyzicus was sent to find. But there was no way to determine from the device just how old the experience was. In short, the warforged named Claviger was dead, and he had been in the company of Wolaf, and somehow the final messenger fell into the hands of the gargoyles of this mountain. Wolaf's fate remained unknown, but this was confirmation that he had been here.

Laying Dursha's body amidst the other skeletal remains in the gargoyle's bone pits, the PCs then headed back down the spiral stairway, with apparently nowhere else to go. Part of the way down, the spectral hobgoblin appeared again and requested that Cypher follow him, citing something about him being expected. He was presumably under the delusion that Cypher was someone of importance—perhaps the Emperor of ancient Dhakaan itself—and certainly not a warforged. Of course, the Empire of Dhakaan fell thousands of years before warforged had been created. If the ghost didn't know he was a ghost, that might make sense.

So they headed down the rough-hewn steps, spiraling further down into the mountain below the inner sanctum of Paluur Draal's palace.  But it was on those stairs that the ghost suddenly turned and attacked Cypher, attempting to either wrest the Emperor's Key talisman away from him...or else to throw him down into the abyss. The PCs fought back on the narrow stairs, and had some close calls. Cyzicus even risked a fall by climbing beneath the battle on the stairs in hopes of fighting from the opposite side. At one point, the hobgoblin's body changed, manifesting what might have been the means of his mortal death: with a scream, his body tore apart as if from massive claws, spilling out spectral organs and gore. It was an alarming effect, but ultimately harmless. Spells proved partially successful, though a lot of physical attacks and missiles passed harmlessly through the spirit's body. Eventually, they'd dealt enough harm to it and the ghost vanished altogether. Destroyed or merely dispersed?

After the fight, they continued on down the stair that wound down the chasm and found that it reached a "bottom" of sorts. The pit itself continued down into darkness without a stair to chase it. What used to be an open passage was now buried rubble, but there was also a door nearby, and the PCs pushed past it to find a curious new chamber.

A line of arcane sigils were carved into the floor—not characters of any language but symbols that, combined, might have some magical effect. Meanwhile, the room itself was hexagonal in shape, and against four of the walls were tall, smooth blocks of obsidian. They were polished so clear they looked like dark mirrors.

And it was when the first of the PCs caught his own reflection in one that a creature took shape as his reflection...then ambled out of the image, murmuring and gibbering, and attacked!

They were squat, bulbous, with hideous, rubbery, bruise-colored skin, long skinny arms, and wicked claws. As the fight was joined, more of them appeared—each time one of the PCs crossed into the direct line of sight of one of the mirrors, they came forth. Their claws were cruel, and their breath foul, but eventually they were all slain. Wherever the creatures fell, they melted down into disgusting puddles of slime.

#14 - Wings and Heights

The PCs did not comply to the ghostly hobgoblin's words, but camped out and rested, weary from their battle and mostly confident that the surviving enemies—namely, Avashad, Drazul, and any Emerald Claw soldiers—would not be able reach them. The mysterious shade walked through the wall and vanished without a word.

During their rest, some of the PCs examined their new treasures and Xoma sought out the room labeled "Separation Chamber" on the map, with minimal success.  Rendar donned the Karrnathi banded mail taken from one of the skeletal warriors. It looked distinctively Karrnath, yes, but here inside the mountain, who would care?

When they were rested, Cypher used the Emperor's Key to "open" the great plaque, which dissolved the pillar of shadow depicted in the relief into dark smoke, thus creating a passage through. The PCs went through, but Halbazar was reluctant—he had an intense dislike and general distrust for goblinkind (dead or otherwise).

They found themselves emerging onto the edge of a daunting, circular chasm of rough-hewn stone which rose out of sight into darkness (with a glimmer of daylight far above), and down into the depths into utter darkness. A spiral stairway, carved vaguely into the rock walls, wound itself both up and down the unseen distance. The shelf 

Halbazar immediately chose to go up, not wanting to go further into the earth. And in that moment a gargoyle, camouflaged against the rock wall, sprang from beneath the spiral stair and slammed into him. It was soon joined by a second and a new battle was underway. It didn't last long, though. The gargoyles were quickly slain with arrows, spells, morning stars, and warhammers. Their heavy bodies dropped into the depths.

But the PCs continued upward, toward the distant light. After several spirals later, with Xoma and his darkvision in the lead, they reached the top of the stairs—though the shaft itself continue further up beyond their reach—where a pair of stony gargoyles perched and watched them. The PCs attempted to bargain with them as Xoma attempted to sneak upon them. Another gargoyle emerged from a tunnel behind the other two, revealing the battered and unconscious body of Dursha, the old goblin woman from the Bookmark Inn, who they'd captured from the ruins outside.

Using the decoy of the Emperor's Key as part of a bargain, the PCs "reasoned" with them and entered their lair. Inside was a long chamber of narrow walkways and carved fissures, with various humanoid bones strewn about the place. Six gargoyles flanked the central walkway and at the far end, in front of another exit, was a large idol of stone resembling an exaggerated gargoyle or some sort of devilish figure. To Doongul, it resembled one possible depiction of the Devourer or the Shadow, gods of the Dark Six.

But then the statue itself moved, revealing it to be a gargoyle, too—a very big one. Ogre-sized, at least. Around its neck hung a velvet bag. The PCs again attempted to bargain with the gargoyles for passage beyond their lair, and the great gargoyle eventually conceded to a single fight between each side's "champion." The assumption was, if PC champion won, they could pass. If the gargoyle champion won, the PCs would have surrender at least one of their own as a meal.

The PCs chose Magnus as their champion, and of course the large gargoyle was theirs.

It was a short but brutal fight, with a gravely wounded gargoyle lord and a very unconscious Magnus crashing to the ground. But the moment the Seren barbarian went down, Xoma joined in by releasing a Ray of Enfeeblement at the gargoyle leader. The spell wounded him further, but the action incited mass combat, as the other six gargoyles joined in.

It was another exhausting battle, as spells and weapons tore into stony flesh—and gargoyle talons and horns punctured PC bodies. Blood was spattered upon the ground from both sides. The great gargoyle assumed a petrified state and seemed to heal like this, but eventually animated again to renew the attack and even tried to escape. Magnus, wakened at last with magical healing, finally delivered the death blow to the massive gargoyle, who crumbled into stone even as he died. 

Dursha had not survived the battle.

Within the rubble of his remains was a gleaming, broad-bladed dagger that the arcanists of the party recognized as magical. Runes and gargoylish designs were etched into the blade. Within the velvet bag Cypher discovered a curious metal object which he soon identified as a final messenger, an artificer-made object that could be embedded within the chest cavity of  a warforged. They were used to impart a message to another warforged that the messenger can fly to, or the final moments of the construct's life.

While the other PCs delved into the pits around the room among the countless bones of the gargoyles' victims, Cypher placed the messenger inside his own chest and experienced the final moments of another warforged's life:

Light shines in a long corridor. Where the light fades, darkness fills both directions. It shines from a lantern in your left hand. In your right is a crossbow. No, your hand is a crossbow.


“I don’t like this,” you say.

Your name is Claviger. The final messenger imparts this knowledge to you. You are a warrior with some artificer training. You never fought for any of the Five Nations. When you were created by the heirs of House Cannith, you were purchased by a human unaffiliated with the house. He immediately gave you your freedom, but he asked you for help on a quest. That was a few years ago now.

“I don’t like it, either, old friend,” says your companion, who insists on walking in front of you. He is human, gruff, big-bodied, bearded. Cloaked, carrying a broadsword. The man is at least fifty years old―which you can hardly fathom. You’re not so “young” for a warforged, but you’ve been alive for less than ten years. You can hardly grasp living for five decades or more. Can warforged truly live that long?

“Why doesn’t this tunnel end?” you say. “It isn’t natural.”

“No,” the human replies softly. Is that fear in his voice? “It is most certainly unnatural. Remember who made this place.”

Then something looms before you both in the darkness ahead. Without moving, its very presence sends uncomfortable vibrations through your body. You try to see it better, but it is nothing more than figure at the edge of your light. Tall, emaciated. Dead, you think.

Or undead.

It glides closer.

“Wolaf!” you yell. “Get behind me! You promised you would let me do my job.”

“We’re beyond the bodyguard thing now, Claviger. You’re already wounded. I can take this thing. Just stay—!”

The creature is upon you! It looks like it’s smiling. Full of bones and razors and wet muscle. Claws, impossibly long, lash out. Wolaf slashes with his sword and parries its attack, but with a second sweep of its claws it sends him crashing against the wall in a spray of blood. He grunts and goes down, but you know he’s still alive. You must keep him alive!

You shout and storm forward, loosing bolts even as you throw down your lantern and draw out your sword. The creature turns its full attention upon you now. Pressure so intense it can only be called pain courses through your body as claws tear through wood and stone.

You weather the attack and drive your blade into its body. But the knife-blades of its fingers won’t stop tearing. You realize you have failed your only friend. Perhaps you can buy him time.

Perhaps—

#13 - The Governor's Throne

Still wounded and in need of rest and healing, the PCs had no choice but to keep moving.

The ghostly hobgoblin led the PCs into the armory—a large chamber empty of any weapons or armor it might have once held. Paluur Draal had been explored and picked clean for hundreds of years, after all. But a bronze plaque on the ground was carved with symbols similar to the those etched into the Emperor's Key medallion. Upon seeing it pulled forth by Cypher, the hobgoblin shade kneeled before the warforged, and said in Goblin, "My liege." Though he was not completely subservient or responsive, the shade urged Cypher to issue commands (with the Key).

Eventually, it worked. Merely commanding it, the plaque rose up from the floor, revealing new shelves that had been stored beneath the floor. Within them were several new treasures, which the PCs took eagerly and quickly, as Magnus heard their pursuers coming.

• Two leathery pouches containing an oily brown fluid and a watery black fluid.
• A glass decanter with some sort of smoky black liquid inside it. Xoma discerned an aura of necromancy about this.
• An ornate quiver made of bone. Cyzicus took this.
• A large metal shield carved with the symbol of a dragonne—which also happens to be the heraldric beast of House Tharashk, but Rendar doesn't think they're related in this case. Doongul took the shield.
• A cloth-wrapped blade. Upon unwrapping it, it was revealed to be an ancient scimitar forged from purple-hued metal. This may well be byeshk, the rare metal used by the Dhakaani Empire in ages past to fight the aberrations of Xoriat.

There was no real time for talk or investigation; the enemy was upon them! First, a pair of iron defenders appeared but were quickly destroyed. In this brief skirmish, Cyzicus discovered the property of the curious bone quiver. Arrows he drew from it and loosed split into two more—much to the chagrin of Doongul, who took one of these arrows in the side!

Moving back out into the cavernous throne chamber, the hobgoblin shade seemed to beckon the PCs toward the north end, by the throne itself and a smaller chamber beyond it. The throne was a  large stone seat inlaid with bronze, with two panels of quartz-like "buttons" which Cypher promptly began to study.

As the party moved around the throne and saw the space beyond—which contained a mural-sized bronze plaque—Avashad's cohorts advanced into the throne room. Only Doongul's bullseye lantern pierced the gloom, but those with low-light vision were able to see them advancing first:

Emerald Claw soldiers. Iron defenders. Dolgrims. Dolgaunts. Another Karrnathi skeleton. The half-orc Drazul d'Tharashk. A cloaked figure who may have been the so-called Avashad himself. All had come and were moving forward, outnumbering the PCs and looking much less for wear.

But as the enemy advanced, a new and significantly larger figure lurched into the chamber from one of the side entrances: a ten-foot animated statue made of clay and carved to resemble a Dhakaani warrior. Crafted by high priests, clay golems usually guard temples—although largely ponderous, they're said to be infused with divine power and can move swiftly when the need arises. In addition to great strength, the wounds they deal cannot be healed by magic, only time. The golem strode in and immediately attacked the nearest creatures—one of the dolgaunts. The Emerald Claw soldiers immediately swarmed around it. Almost without fail, every time the golem struck one of the humans, it killed him instantly, pulping flesh and bone and nearly decapitating one with its earthen fists.

The dolgrims loosed crossbow bolts, some of which hit their mark. Blood spattered. Avashad never made any direct attacks of his own, although the PCs did see him cast to the floor some sort of snake. The focus for a spell?

Cyzicus loosed arrows. Xoma used his boomerang and his magic. Halbazar flung fiery javelins. Rendar, Doongul, and Magnus handled the melee. While the dolgrims were clumsy if effective with their crossbow bolts, Drazul was deadly with his bow. With one arrow, he sent Cyzicus slamming into the back wall, collapsing him. Some of the other PCs began to drop from their wounds, forcing Doongul to hasten among them, delivering his clerical touch to keep them from dying. Cypher, working to decode the throne's mechanisms, was shielded by some invisible wall of force. Two iron defenders, the skeleton, and a dolgaunt all reached the front lines before Cypher managed to activate the first throne-based defense: a wide section of the floor began to sink swiftly down, creating a small but dangerous chasm. Half of the enemies were cut off from attack.

Then Cypher activated a second configuration on the gem-buttons: a separate section of floor began to rise. What ultimately became of the clay golem and the Emerald Claw soldiers battling it the PCs did not know. What they did know is that Avashad and Drazul d'Tharashk—arguably the most dangerous of their foes—were cut off by the rising wall of stone and the swiftly descending pit. The cloaked wizard, or whatever he was, merely watched it rise. Almost patiently, or perhaps resigned to losing them again.

The dolgrims, not quite dumb enough to let themselves be squished by the rising wall they were standing on, ambled forward and fell to the bottom of the pit. The dolgaunt, skeletal warrior, and iron defenders were finally slain, but had left grievous wounds upon the PCs.

When the rising wall had completely closed off the rest of the throne room, the PCs fell back, exhausted, into the small chamber behind it.The hobgoblin shade urged them toward the bronze mural, which depicted an army of hobgoblins arrayed around a smoky pillar with sinister eyes lurking within.

"Command it to open," the shade said in Goblin.

The PCs ignored him. They wanted rest.

#12 - Eyes and Shades

Making short and noisy work of a pair of iron defenders, the PCs hurried out from the guard chamber and further into the Vault. The sound of pursuit from the direction of the entrance was getting louder, and suggested a large number of pursuers. Clearly the PCs weren't going to get the prolonged rest they needed. Not yet.

They hurried into a central chamber.

On the gnome-made archaeologist's map of the Vault they possessed, the chamber was denoted only with the word "eyes." Indeed, each of the eight stone doors was carved with an ocular design on the inside, facing inward. The PCs hastily worked to bar the door they'd come in through and open other doors, aiming to head toward the northeastern section of the map. All the other doors, however, were held firmly shut and resisted easy breakage.

Their examination of the chamber was also hurried but yielded a few interesting things. Carved into the floor was an even larger eye, and its pupil was formed of dark glass. Cypher even discovered a tenth eye carved into the north wall, where there was no door.

Halbazar's magic, Magnus's strength, Doongul's clerical magic, lots of rope, and more prudent uses of the grease spell kept their enemies from storming easily into the room. Soldiers, ragged skeletons clad in piecemeal armor, and the animated corpse of the ogre they recently killed all attempted to get into the room of eyes. Worse, the soldiers they glimpsed beyond the door were armored in a distinctive half-plate armor and wore the green colors of the Order of the Emerald Claw—an infamous knightly order from Karrnath once known as some of the best soldiers on Khorvaire. Now, they were an outlawed even by Karnnath's king for their terrorism and fanaticism.

The Order was known to consort with evil creatures and to do reprehensible things on the commands of their masters. A sprawling organization with hidden cells in cities across the land. Usually they kept their own company or worked with the cults of the Blood of Vol. What they were now doing allied with a cult of the Dragon Below, a Tharashk excoriate (the half-orc Drazul they'd met in the skies), and the wizard called Avashad was anyone's guess.

The ogre zombie finally burst into the room, but the combined efforts of Magnus, Halbazar, Cyzicus, and Rendar brought the creature low. Yet more were coming so they renewed their efforts to keep the southern door shut. In addition to the ragtag skeletons, one skeleton was armored in Karrnathi plate, no doubt brought by the Emerald Claw. In Karrnath, elite soldiers who die in service to the crown are often raised by the Ministry of the Dead. This skeleton was one such, and even bore a Karrnathi scimitar—a masterwork weapon. Both this skeletal warrior and the Emerald Claw soldiers fought with greater skill than those previous, but the combined efforts of the PCs still brought them down.

When one of the northeastern doors finally yielded, Xoma immediately went through it.

Cypher, having been analyzing the magical radiations from the room's many eyes, was the first to see the ghostly figure step out of the north wall and into the room. Clad in ancient Dhakaani armor, it was a hobgoblin who looked substantial but his skin and clothes were all a matching shade of gray. It seemed likely the dar warrior was undead, but he did not attack. In fact, the ghostly hobgoblin, armored like a warlord, beckoned the PCs to follow him through one of the north doors. He pointed in the direction Xoma had gone and said in the Goblin tongue, "That way is death."

Xoma, unaware of this, nearly collided with a nearly invisible wall of moving slime when he reached the first junction. He turned and fled back to the "eye" chamber, knowing a thing or two about acid and the generally negative results in total immersion.

More shouting men, barking iron defenders, and the rattle of bones signaled the approach of reinforcements. At last, the PCs decided to follow the hobgoblin shade. He led them into a much larger, rectangular chamber. Unlit, it vanished into darkness, but the map the PCs possessed suggested this was a throne room.

The hobgoblin stood in their path and pointed toward one of the exits on the left-hand side. On the map, that way lay the "armory."

#11 - Into the Vault

Reunited with the others, the PCs spoke again with Kyress and her group. They were deciding exactly who would go where—the gnomes, Wenrick, the disturbed Aundairian would go with the professor—when the sentries called out that winged shapes appeared in the sky. Indeed, rounding the corner of the mountain was a wyvern.

It had only been a matter of time. The PCs had declined the offer of the cloaked stranger who visited them aboard the Sky Talon—the offer to take the Emperor's Key off their hands and end all pursuit. Now, the man-who-was-not-a-man and his allies, had probably come for it. Whoever they were. A shapechanger, an exoriate half-orc, cultists of the Dragon Below. And apparently a whole Host-damned flight of wyverns.

There was no more time for discussion. The groups said their terse farewells and spread out. Rendar, Cyzicus, Cypher, Xoma, Magnus, Doongul, and Halbazar set out toward the site of the crashed Talon in order to draw the attention of the approaching wyverns, while Kyress, the hobgoblins, and the gnomes set out down toward the bottom of the ruined city. Before separating, the professor reluctantly gave them a map she had of the Governor's Vault: the inner fortress of the palace that once sat atop the top tier of Paluur Draal when the city was part of the old Dhakaani Empire.

Two wyverns shot out over the city. As they neared, one turned back and flew the way it had come. The other descended and engaged, and a battle soon ensued. The rider, a human who wielded a lightning-spewing wand, seemed unafraid of the greater numbers. Lashing with electricity, he wounded the PCs but slew none of them. In turn, slowly, they brought him down by killing the wyvern with a series of attacks. Once downed, the rider tried to flee, but he was swiftly cut down.

The rider was human with elvish blood, that was clear, and in searching his body the PCs discovered that he bore the Mark of Storm! House Lyrandar bore that mark. Another dragonmarked heir—allied with the Dragon Below? Not a good sign. When attempting to pry the wand from the dead man's hand, Xoma found himself shocked by its power. While Cypher had a quick look at the defensive matrix infused in the wand, seeing a dragonshard was set into its base, Xoma simply set to work cutting off the dead man's arm so he could still take the wand with him.

Xoma is like that.

On their way back up the city, something much more than wyverns appeared in the sky from the north: a whole new airship. This one was sculpted like a kraken—denoting as a vessel belonging to, or at least commissioned for, House Lyrandar. The kraken was their symbol. Flanking the airship were two wyverns.

The PCs reached the entrance to the Governor's Vaults and went in, seeking shelter from the eyes of the airship. They waited and consulted the map, wary of the trap indicated in its first junction. When the airship came into view from the entrance corridor, they followed Cypher and Xoma, who searched the darkness of the hallways for further danger. They needed to find a secure place to rest, not quite ready for another fight.

When they discovered an illusory secret door, they soon found a guard chamber and made camp. Hours passed and they lingered in the dark, waiting, quiet. Magnus slept while Cypher examined the dragonshard wand in the dimmed light of a hooded lantern. The others dozed or just kept still. Or, like Cyzicus and Doongul, took up a sentry position.

But before they could get sufficient rest, they were disturbed by the sound of intruders to the vault. Distant, shouted voices near the entrance. Then, from the sounds of it, the triggering of a trap—the loud, banging, metal-on-stone of heavy weights hitting solid ground. Angry shouts and metallic barks followed.

A short while later, Doongul and Cyzicus spotted a pair of iron defenders stalking by the illusionary wall, clearly searching for someone.