#91 - Rest and Refutation

As told by Magnus of the Island of Seren.

This place seemed out of time to me. It is like that place where I saw Lucerix, it doesn’t seem connected to the rest of the world, even though in this case I know it must be. These two giants from a faraway land—perhaps as far as Argonnessen—are guarding the area, there is a floating tower, a wizard who flew around the summit on a carpet, and much of the space open to the sky. Yet none of the mighty powers has ever heard of it and we followed a secret door to get here. Why hasn’t a sky ship looked down in here before? Have they not thought to look? This ruin holds fascination for the ages yet here we are first to see it? Something is going on and magic is surely involved.

We rested as best we could, we bathed in the clean water, and looked over the runes and drawings again. I tightened up all the stitches holding me together and Cypher worked on Rungo during the night with his tinkering tools.

There was a dragon nearby, bound invisibly within four standing stones as if it were a cage. She was red by shape and attitude, but not by color. The true children of Eberron pride themselves on the hue, luster, and majesty of their scales, so this did not bode well. Her scales were colored like smoke, like shadow, and like a beast of Khyber she shunned the daylight when it fell upon her the next morning. In any case, at the time I was in no condition to deal with dragons. Every part of me hurt. So I waited.

When we awoke, morning had come, and we made our way to the dragon. Clarion went first but was first approached by one of the giants. He was warned, "Do not venture too near, for while she cannot move, her breath cannot be caged." I deemed that, given her age as a young adult red, her killing breath could reach no further than thirty or so feet. I chose some distance beyond that. After a few long minutes of looking each other over, the dragon bid me to free her.

Talking with dragons is always dangerous, they are much smarter than I am and they can be very tricky.  I revealed that I was from Seren, though I think she knew that by my appearance and smell, and the dragon and I talked about the recent happenings there. Vaguely. It wasn’t too long before it declared that it was on the side of "the victor." As we talked, I decided that this dragon was in league with the demons who are working to overthrow the world's well-ordered balance.

Illustration by friend Craig Spearing!

I refused to free the dragon, so she threatened me. I told it that it was best left caged.  Talking with the stone giantess Ūral she revealed that Elidac, the wizard above, had overpowered the dragon and that she herself had been the one to bind her between the stones. That cannot be an easy task, even for a fallen dragon. I asked for permission to kill the dragon and she said to take it up with the wizard in the tower.

We agreed that it was time to ascend the stairs that up to the tower.  Ūral asked each of us for a "treasure or secret of the recent or distant past"  as tribute. This was the price of entry.

Kard offered the teeth of vanquished monsters, for he had intended for them to be wrought into a shield of his faith. I gave my ring of the Carnival of Shadows and when she asked why, I told her about the festivities and games of the elves of this and how the ring bore witness to better days and glad times. She and her companion Kurōne shared a look and a brief discussion about the strangeness of this realm—more evidence that they are not from Khorvaire at all. Perhaps they are more estranged than I in this land. At least I am the proper size.

Cypher seemed unable to understand her request, he started revealing tactical secrets which had no interest for her and then waited to try again. Clarion offered small carved wooden figures, whose significance I didn't myself understand, but the giantess accepted them. Aleae allowed the giantess to peer into her scrying orb which described her Feywild homeland. Simel revealed the greatest of secrets: he was a changeling, not human at all! He even reshaped his face and body to resemble mine! He had never looked so good, and may never again. A shame that his tricksy changeling flesh cannot make him a strong as the dragons have made me.

Cypher tried again with tales of his time in war and his personal struggles as a made being. This held her attention, though she asked pointed questions about it, and at last she let him pass.

Our legs were burning after the long spiral stair. At the top, there was a chamber with tables, books, potion bottles, and a door. While the party looked at the books on the table I pushed the door, but nothing happened. After messing with the book and speaking about intricate drawings within it, and a bookmark, a carved symbol appeared on the face of the door.

So I pushed it again. Suddenly, I was overwhelmed with the futility of this mission. Why was the party seeking out wizards and lost realms when our prey, the vampire—Governor Trazzen, an actual enemy we knew needed to be dealt with—was below, bringing in monstrous hordes by teleportation. And where were we? Idling up above in a floating tower that was not our business.

We should descend immediately and leave this ridiculous place! All of my companions were fools. And they were wrong about this.

In frustration I started yelling at the party that this was a fool’s errand. They fiddled with the book some more and somehow, by dumb luck, managed to open the door—which led up some stairs that obviously led outside the towers' perimeter (more misleading magic). Like idiots, like dumb sheep bleating outside a dragon's cave, they started to ascend further, tempting fate, asking for doom!

This was a waste! In frustration, I moved to one of the other tables and started dropping vials from the table over the edge, letting them fall and smash on the stones below. Perhaps that would command their attention and bring them back to their senses. Clarion and Cypher came to try to stop me and caught one of the vials. Who cares? This is the wrong way and we should leave now. Our true quest is not bound to some wizard hermit and his pet giants.

#90 - Gorgons and Giants

From the Journal of Clarion Tritone, Champion of Dol Arrah, Vassal of the Sovereign Host 

We had to stay alert. Our journey through Glyphstone Keep had tested our resolve and abilities repeatedly and we had found ourselves incessantly harried. While we found a reprieve at the bottom these stairs, surrounded by fresh air and able to cleanse our exteriors in pure waters, stairs which lead to something unknown, my mind was still focused on the horrid visage of the minion of Azohirr. Great evils roam these planes, yet the fallen exalted and divine, often former angels, who turn their efforts against their former allies upset me to the core.

Being able to unleash the light of Dol Arrah upon this creature and feeling how her power drove the beast back to its original plane of pain and despair filled most of my thoughts while we were waiting and trying to regain at least some of our energies.

The occasionally sound of hooves coming from above kept us wondering what awaited us. The sounds were clearly not those of a horse. The only other sound was that of Simel coughing ever more viciously. Somehow he must have inhaled a significant amount of the spores we encountered on our recent ascent.

Once we had rested a while we clearly heard someone or something approaching with heavy footsteps. Aleae has grown in resolve and confidence and immediately rose up the stairs to meet whatever we was coming. I indicated that we should spread out on these stairs in order not to be a simple target, huddled together.

It seemed befitting that it was an elemental being that would appear in front of Aleae. The crackling, grinding noises that were exchanged clearly indicated that she spoke in the language of this child of the earth. She became flustered and indicated that a request was made for our number or passage would not be granted.

We slowly proceeded up the stairs and just as I was about to pronounce that there were seven of us,  Simel brushed past Aleae and attacked with a barrage of precise strikes, indicating that this would be our number. What our new companion lacks in patience and diplomacy he makes of for in skill with the blade.

A few ferocious blows from the earthen creature struck before it retreated and became one again one with the earth beneath us—a strategic retreat for an elemental. Slowly we progressed onward, ready for the ground to erupt once again and another round of battle to ensue.

We found ourselves in what appeared to be star-lit ruins bereft of a ceiling and soon become aware that these were but a corner of a truly cavernous space. It eventually became evident that we had reached the ground level of Glyphstone Keep and that it, and most of the levels above it, had been hollowed out and shored up along each of its four sides with towering walls of stone.

It was much to take in, but I discerned in this vast hollow that each corner rose into a tower, while a the roof of the fortress arched into a fifth pinnacle. Floating above the ground in the center and connecting with the central vaulted pinnacle was a hexagonal tower shaped not unlike a obelisk. From its design I believe that it did not originally belong to the goblin fastness this ruin once was. This seemed a new installation, and it seemed only accessible from below in the form of a slender spiral staircase.

Regardless, all of these sites were some distance from the corner where we were emerging. I also glimpsed a small lake, floating chunks of rock above it, distant standing stones, and a veritable mountain of piled rocks forming a edifice of stone one one side. Later I would guess that the rubble and shattered walls that once comprised the ground and upper floors of Glyphstone Keep had been reworked to form this colossal wall.

As we  progressed through the ruins in a staggered, disordered pace and formation—or indeed, no formation at all—we soon heard the unmistakable and now familiar sound of Magnus jumping into a fierce rage and engaging an enemy. In this case, he had commenced battle with the mysterious hoofed being.

Quickly I rush towards the commotion and in awe at the sight of a gorgon, a creature of legend and the heraldric symbol of House Cannith. Appearing as a bull sheathed in scales of metal, what a magnificent creature it was—and well know for its powerful breath that can turn its victims into stone. By the time the rest of us, save for Kard, had arrived to assist Magnus we had happened to align ourselves perfectly so that the beast could engulf us all with a cloud of its breath attack.

Magnus and Cypher were instantly stricken, freezing up and clearly battling with the magical fumes. I sought the blessings of Dol Arrah, so that they could swiftly escape the clutches of this vaporous curse and they were granted: After a brief struggle, neither human nor warforged were rendered into stone.

Predictably Aleae used the unpredictable magic of her wonderous wand and turned the gorgon unintentionally into a temporary but vaporous form. We were mutually unable to harm the other and seeing a group of winged, human shapes take flight in our direction from atop the distant wall of stones in this vast cavern, I felt this could be an opportunity to make a run for the staircase we had made out at the center of the space, leading up to the floating hexagonal tower. From all we knew this was likely to be the place where we could find Elidac, the Brelish wizard who, according to legend, had come to Glyphstone several years ago. If we could find him, he could possibly provide answers to many of our questions.

Click for larger view.

Before we could regroup and be on our way, the gorgon rematerialized. Unwilling to strike this creature I nonetheless supported my companions in other ways.

After an incredible attack from Simel, in which he unhinged the legs of the gorgon with a mighty swoop and then pierced it repeatedly with his rapier in sensitive areas, we heard Cypher in an unusually commanding tone ordering us to stop our attack. As he had been blasted by the gorgon’s vapor while standing on a wall now behind us, he had dropped himself back, out of harm’s way—at least, that is likely what he had intended. We noticed instead that he had placed himself in the immediate reach of a giant’s club that appeared to be larger than Cypher himself.

The giant himself was exceptionally tall, fifteen feet ore more, lean yet muscled with skin the color of stone. Hairless, sleek, and grim, he exuded considerable strength. Stone giants are known to be the most gentle and reclusive among the giants of legend. Unless this giant was an exception, it was likely that we had overstepped a boundary we rightfully should not have.

Click for larger view.

The giant obviously guarded this entrance and had patiently awaited our actions, his rock-like skin granting him the perfect camouflage amidst the high walls around us. Being under constant attack since we had entered Glyphstone Keep had clearly left us with a policy of attack first and ask questions later. It was hard for me to forgive myself for not putting an end to this sooner.

The gorgon who had suffered some severe blows stopped its attacks immediately once the giant commanded it, but its snorts and fuming demeanor clearly indicated that it wished nothing more than to trample and gore us all into pieces. Or possibly rubble.

As the giant emerged from where he had spoken with Cypher, the winged humanoids lit upon the shorter walls of the ruins around us. We could now see they were gargoyles arrived, led by one whose body appeared mottled with green moss. They seemed to be another line of defense to this place that made it ever clearer that we would benefit from leaving our weapons out of these conversations.

We spoke with the giant, who wished to understand what we were doing in this place. We gave some details and said that at this point we wished nothing more than to rest and gather our strengths. He expressed that we needed to speak with "Ūral" and took massive strides towards the caves from where the gargoyles had originated.

Stone giants are allegedly peaceful by nature.
But stay off their lawns, just in case.

While he was away, Kard took special interest in the gargoyles who were mostly eyeing Magnus—for the Seren had defiantly decided to climb a wall and view them on their own level. The cleric spoke with their appeared to be their leader. After what we would quickly learn were his customary incredibly long pauses before responding, the gargoyle said his name was Ventwar. Kard kept insisting that they had met before on the plains outside of Glyphstone Keep, but the gargoyle refused to confirm this. Kard insisted that he did not wish to be the gargoyle's killer and Ventwar said in his harsh voice, "Do not make me your killer." I do not know well the demeanor of gargoyles, but I considered this to be light conversation.

Shortly before this pause-filled conversation came to an end we saw the stone giant reemerge from the cave across the way, now with a second, female giant. She was significantly smaller than him and in garb that indicated some kind of shamanistic status. They were accompanied by an enormous dire bear.

The shaman was soft spoken and wished to understand why we had come to Glyphstone Keep and what we were doing here, particularly within these walls. Visitors must be rare. She said her name was Ūral. Her male companion was Kurōne.

We told her about our mission to find and kill the so-called vampiric Governor Trazzen who had been instated as the lord of Glyphstone Keep. There was absolutely no sign that she had any knowledge of this remnant of a commander or cared who or what he thought he was and what we intended to do with him. Ūral repeatedly urged us to simply leave if we had no stated business for being here, on the upper level of Glyphstone Keep.

We asked if we could rest for a while, for our strength and resources were depleted. In response she first asked us to come with her and take a look at something. Shortly thereafter we stood in front of an intricately carved bas-relief, showing five separate levels carved in elaborate design. This presumably represented the various levels of Glyphstone itself. It might have been part literal, part spiritual, and was clearly was the work of a highly skilled craftsman. Perhaps magic was involved as well.

• The top level depicted the upper ruins and towers, with the hexagonal obelisk. Around it stood five robed figures. Behind them are the taller shapes of the stone giants.
• Just below, the carved level depicted mushrooms, floating orbs, trolls, bipedal insect-like creatures, and tunnels.
• Below that, a great throne room. The hobgoblin golem was represented there, and in one corner was a furnished room with a small horned giant working at a loom.
• Below that, a network of chambers. Many of them looked to have been obliterated and dominated by a vast crater. Ominous, indistinct shapes and skeletons were scattered throughout.
• The lowest level depicted more natural caverns with even more ambiguously-shaped monsters. There were also creatures that appeared like serpents with human heads. More of the crater dominated this level. 

None of us could read the writings beside each depiction, which were in the Giant language, and Ūral did not care to translate once we expressed that none of us were able to read them. She asked us what we thought of all this. I am not sure if she was looking for some kind of specific response or special information beyond the fact that we had seen much of what was depicted and that certain details seemed uncannily accurate.

She asked if we would be leaving if she allowed us to rest. The exact nature of Kard's desire to speak with the Brelish wizard Elidac had not yet become clear to me and his intentions for what he wanted to do once he encountered him remained nebulous, but now that Aleae began to speak up and ask whether we would be able to speak to the wizard, Kard showed slight signs that he would very much desire such a meeting.

At first Ūral was hesitant but shortly thereafter we heard what had to be the Elidac’s own voice, for it filled the air of the cavern, quiet but pervasive. He said, "It is well, Ūral. They may come up, if you approve it, though path to my chambers is not safe. If they reach me, I will ask them a question based on what they have learned from the journey up."

It appeared that he was authorizing Ūral, but the giantess followed this with her own commandment. "You may ascend only at my discretion." She said we would speak of it more only when we were ready. What mattered most then is that we had indeed been granted time and safety to rest for as long as we needed it. At this moment we were also able to see the wizard himself, floating upon a carpet around the top area of the hexagon tower just outside a set of high windows. We could discern no details about him.

Until our meeting we would be free to explore this place, which was obviously full of wonders. I was very eager to further study the stone wall. Was there a link to the Draconic Prophecy? Were we mentioned? What did those words mean?

No matter what else we might uncover here, the hordes of undead and possibly further demons roaming parts of this keep make me restless.

We must cleanse this place.

#89 - Ravaged and Regenerated

From the Analects of Simel, veteran of Karrnath

The floor began to tilt crazily and I coughed up the last of the lungful of pestilence that the hellish gas bag unleashed as it died, if it was ever alive.  The screaming of the guardian fungi did not help me regain my composure, but I tried my best to ascend the mold-slick stairs. I knew Aleae had proceeded to the top , but couldn't see or hear anything of what she found there, over the mind-numbing shrieking. The others were all ahead of me on the stairs, but none of us dared to run with a dark pit beckoning and the slime-covered steps ready to betray a misstep.

I slowed further to place two arrows into the closest shrieker, silencing it.  After what seemed minutes of scrambling up the steps unsteadily, the second quieted as well, its vibrating stalk crushed by one of my companions.  At first I was unsure if what I heard was the howling that now continued as a remembered trauma in my tortured ears or the sound of annoyed trolls coming from the top of the stairs.  But before I could consider what was causing the unseen trolls such grief, another of the beholder-things floated up from the dark pit.  I was closest and almost attacked it, but for Magnus''s gentle reminder not to "touch that gas bag you idiot." Thankful for his advice, I passed it warily and continued up the stairs.  The war machine, Cypher, passed me and grappled the floating thing, yelling for us to "get back."  Once we were clear, he burst the thing like the vile pustule it was, obviously immune to the spores it released. 

At the top of the stairs Clarion, the other war machine in our strange companionship, cast a magical illumination that danced ahead of us down a hallway, revealing two burned and angry trolls flailing about at an unseen assailant. Slaying the two already weakened beasts was no difficult task, but keeping them dead proved a challenge and only acid pored over their repeatedly dispatched bodies ended the battle.

Aleae had kept the creatures more than occupied as the rest of us advanced up the stairs. I can only imagine what transpired, for her to have survived alone and so weakened the creatures before our arrival. The details of her combat, however, were not forthcoming. I will not underestimate the power of this sorceress in the future.

The battle was not without cost.  Cypher, who until now I had only imagined to be like one of the many killing constructs I had fought during the war, cradled his "pet" Rungo. The lesser quadrapedal construct had been crushed by a flailing troll and now I witnessed what I had to admit was mourning by and for a warforged. I had much to consider.

At the end of the hallway, in what smelled like the trolls' filth pit, we found a openable, hidden doorway, beyond which was fresh air and running water.  Clean water flowed from an unseen source and stairs led up towards fresh air, vague daylight, and the distant sound of a some heavily-trodding hooves.

We were exhausted and beyond the momentary respite that the clean air and water gave us, needed time to more fully restore ourselves.  We debated on which side of the door to remain, finally choosing to try to rest in the foul air of the troll lair and not risk encountering fresh opponents ahead.

Our rest, however, did not last long as two trolls emerged from some fungi-filled crack and approached us.  Magnus and I charged them. While I had survived our previous encounters virtually unscathed, but exhausted, Magnus wore several injuries, yet showed no awareness of them as he leapt upon the first troll screaming a battle cry.  What followed was ugly combat bereft of strategy as I stabbed trolls through a haze of adrenaline and pain.  I was aware that Magnus was thrown down and almost immediately rose again, much as the damned trolls didn't have the courtesy to stay dead.  Flashes of magical energy struck the trolls even as we hacked and stabbed at them.  In the end it was only dousing their corpses with acid that ended our bloody dance.  I must remember to carry acid at all times.

Now, fully spent, we resumed our rest on the other side of the hidden door, sitting or lying on slick, but clean steps, or shallow water. I quickly lost consciousness for a few hours, but I couldn't shake the coughing and it woke me frequently. I do not think I am getting better from whatever it was I breathed in.

We were not yet restored to our full fighting capacity when something came down the steps.

#88 - Barbs and Spores

The two spheres of fire—one of which struck Clarion full-on—turned out to be incendiary, hand-thrown missiles launched by a tall, gangly creature rife with spines up and down the length of its body. It ducked back around the distant turn in the corridor, and waited behind more of a pair of the animate suits of armor that the PCs had fought back in the ir’Valishcountry estate. Bodyguards of the Blue Wraith?

The fire-flinger was revealed to be more than just some creature but an infernal foe of some significance. When the PCs closed the distance and encountered their enemies at the far end of the hall, it was revealed to be a devil of some kind—thus did it stink of brimstone and hatred. Wisps of smoke rose from each of its barbs, its profusion of horns, and tail. To the eyes of Clarion and Kard, it was clear this fiend was antithetical to the gods.

When the PCs drew in closer, the barbed devil engaged Magnus foremost—it even called him by name. The Seren barbarian understood over the course of this battle that this was a mere denizen of Azohirr, the devil lord he was bound against from his draw of the Deck of Many Things. Azohirr was also the name of the devil who evidently governed the outlawed ir’Valish family. Although the devil favored Magnus as his target, he drew his claws across both him and Clarion, who he named “slave of the gods” in its own dialect. Kard, hearing this and knowing the Supernal tongue, discerned both the words and the devil’s contempt. For devils, according to ancient texts, were once as angels in their own right and were somehow cast down into their fiendish states.

It's not a party until the gnolls show up.

The battle was hard fought but remained brief. Magnus brought his nemesis’s minion down at last with a mighty swing of his ice-mace, but not before the devil grappled and impaled him upon its own spines—which shot through his body and greatly reduced the amount of blood in his body. At last, slain, the devil hung from Magnus’s body like a crucified martyr…then slid down to the ground in puddles of their respective gore.

The armored horrors persisted for longer than the PCs desired, slashing into Rungo and Cypher and Kard. Kard, in a moment of surprise, intervened and actually assisted his warforged ally, preventing further harm to Cypher—before hammering down his foe in turn. Cypher badly rusted away the other construct with a powerful infusion, allowing Aleae’s persistent rays of frost to end its animation.

Even as they labored for breath, the sounds of gnolls—and many of them—warned of the next impending battle. But a secret door was discovered—the very one Lorsanna, Dar’s friend, told them about, which Governor Trazzen and his cohorts had allegedly not yet explored. As the PCs opened the door and stepped through, the gnoll warband howled down the corridor toward them.

Sahhlesh alone remained behind. “There is someone I must find,” he told Magnus simply, Seren to Seren, and it was clear he was parting company with the group for now. Or perhaps he was giving up his life. Magnus and Cypher saw ice forming around the other Seren even as the gnolls came into view. Then the door was shut, and the PCs found themselves in a new chamber.

A curious room with a winding stairwell leading tier by tier high up to a single exit. Every surface—floor, wall, stair—was covered in a turf of moss and fungus. Many colors and species filled the room, with rhizomes, stalks, and mushrooms sprouting here and there. Two particularly large mushrooms occupied two of the landings further up the stairs. When the PCs ventured too close to the first, it began to vibrate and shriek, a sound that obviously carried quite far in these echoing chambers.

Only moving back away quieted the mushroom after a few moments. Cypher decided it was an obstacle, and sank a bolt from his armbow into the closest one. It was badly wounded but it didn't keep it from shrieking again. The stalk withered and the whole form seemed to shrivel but it wasn't silenced yet.

Then, mere moments later, a large spherical and disturbingly familiar creature with waving stalks sprouting from its body, a large open mouth, and a huge, central eye drifted up from out of the lowest of the two pits—closest to Magnus, Simel, and Kard. Magnus and Simel retreated to a more defensible position.

Gas spores: D&D's piñatas of doom!

It floated over to Magnus first and attempted to try and bite him but he dodged its rather ponderous attack. Magnus chose not to engage it directly just yet, rolling on the floor and directly under its buoyant mass. Kard, slipping a bit down the mossy stairs, tossed a vial of holy water at the spherical beast. The glass shattered but the water didn’t seem to bother it at all.

Higher up the stairs, Aleae turned and loosed a Ray of Frost at the floating orb-thing, but her aim was off the mark. Kard took her cue with a conjured bolt of Sacred Fire, which struck the floating, beholder-like creature dead-center...

...and revealed it as something other than beholder. Its spherical body ruptured like a gassy bladder, and a cloud of spores exploded even as the spherical frame deflated and dropped harmless to the ground. 

Magnus and Simel, the closest to the the thing, fell back, coughing. Magnus recovered quickly but Simel did not. He fell into a fit of coughing, unable to keep from inhaling some of the noxious cloud.

Aleae, meanwhile, decided to proceed up the stairs since the mushrooms—the second triggered by the first—were screaming anyway. But the screaming had called something, and as soon as she gained the final landing a new obstacle leapt out at her from the darkness. 

Tall, gaunter than most, green and mottled but with disturbing rhizome-like formations on its body, the troll looked exceptionally eager to tear into the eladrin woman.

#87 - Things That Crawl and Ooze

As told by Magnus of the Island of Seren.

I waited at the bottom of the stairs, my fighting rage subsiding as the place quieted down. I thought I’d stand guard while the party sorted out that woman who claimed to be a friend of Dar the Druid. There was a LOT of talking up at the top of the stairs. I ignored it, focusing on the job of keeping guard.

What Magnus thinks Cypher
could look like if he spent less
time talking and more time
arming up.

It was very dark down there. I do not question the dragons' decision of not bequeathing the ability to see in the dark to humankind, but I have lately wondered if Serens should be exempt from this curse.

It wasn’t long before the whole group made its way down the stairs, minus Dar and her long lost friend. Everybody was talking about her departure and how the friend had told us repeatedly that we were in over our heads (of course, we were underground!) and that we should run for our lives. Not likely.

It seems that the friend had been a captive down here and told us again about the governor vampire Trazzen; more about the Blue Wraith, a criminal and wizard from the city we had recently departed; and some about what was going on down here. Seemed like there are areas in Glyphstone Keep that even Trazzen has yet to explore. It also seemed like they had a teleport circle set up and were bringing in help from Droaam. That seems like a great place to start, shutting down the flow of enemy warriors (more gnolls!).

I was feeling very beat up and I had seen lots of spells since we had a rest. With my own blood trickling down my skin, I suggested we take some time to rest. The party insisted that we had to go on, so we did. There were some healing spells cast, including Cypher using the Wand of Eternal Healing or whatever it is he calls it. But Aleae had been carrying it, so when she realized he possessed it now made the elf very angry. Those two will end up fighting one day.

As we made our way toward the unknown areas south on the second level of the dungeon, we tried to be sneaky. It just isn’t our style. A few fumbling minutes in the dark and I heard a voice simply say, mockingly: “Shhhhh.” I flared my stolen everbright torch to reveal the "friendly" oni from upstairs. This was Sorrell. He asked what we had learned—not enough—and he added his ignorance to our pile of questions. He returned Aleae’s Wand of Wonder and we agreed to share notes when next we meet. While we ventured south in search of the some Brelish wizard who disappeared in these ruins some years ago (I don't know the significance of him), Sorrel went east toward the known lair of our enemies.

Once more we head into the dark, trying to be both silent and lightless. The darkness hid our fumblings and stubbed toes, but not much of our noise. I think it was there that I decided to give up and just use our lights.

In front, Alea spied a missing section of floor, an open pit of some kind. Cypher sent Rungo (Mrs. Rungo?) to scout around us. Back behind us we heard a whistle and we soon saw a couple of disgusting, moving corpses shambling from a side corridor. I attacked. Sahlessh joined me and got more of their rotting juice on his hands.

When not attacking adventurers,
gray oozes enjoy long slides
down the stairs, pretending
to be oily puddles, and crocheting.

Clarion heard something by the pit and found some kind of multi-legged worm-slug, with a saddle, being ridden by a nasty, wrong-colored little goblin or something. The worm turned out to be a carrion crawler, which Cypher and I had faced before—also underground and also in the company of undead foes. It is not a good memory for me. The crawler was big and nasty, just as the others had been, but twice before my eyes Clarion intercepted and fended the thing's paralyzing tentacles away from us.

It wasn't long before we wiped up our foes (and Sahlessh took my torch for a walk, we should steal him one soon). During the mop-up, Aleae was attacked by some kind of dark, stone-colored slime which left nasty acid burns. Lots of attacks, lots of spilled holy water, and lots of damaged armor and weapons resulted .It makes me glad to have given up wearing armor at all. I finally grabbed a dead goblin and smashed the slimy puddle into oblivion. The goblins, too, we killed, but then they came alive again—well, undead—but we made short work of them.

Kard used a very helpful spell that healed all of us a measure and without even having to touch us. The cleric has grown more powerful than when we first met him. It makes me wonder at the powers given to humankind by the dragons—yet he does not seem to think he is praying to any.

Soon we were ready to search more of this old dungeon. We carefully jumped across the pit and begin making our way further into the dark. Only a short distance, two tiny balls of fire came shooting out at us from the dark.

#86 - Parleys and Partings

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

Dar and I were standing in the Glyphstone Keep room staring at Magnus through what used to be the door. He had clearly broken it down, although I never locked it. Clarion asked if we were ok and I responded by asking how long we were in there. I had the impression that we had been under some powerful magical influences and I had no idea for how long we were trapped in that room.

I remember getting up from the drawing table in order to join the impending battle when the door closed and a humanoid figure appeared, from where and how I knew not. He interrogated Dar and me but anything more was but a fuzzy memory. Clarion said it had been only minutes. I tried to explain to them all I could but it was clear they had not fully dispatched with our latest enemies, so I ordered the party to move onwards.

I infused Rungo's wood and metal armor with a powerful enhancement to strengthen her‡ and increase her resolve and then sent Rungo ahead to scout the far room, where the lingering enemy combatants retreated. No one was there but Magnus found an open trap door in the room leading down. According to our map, this was the secret way to the stairs down to the deeper levels.

While the others were contemplating further action in that room, I noticed that Kard was in possession of the magical chalice from the fountain. What an exquisite artifact! I was compelled to learn more. He told me that there was a magical force with which he had been fighting since taking hold of the gigantic ten pound chalice. I steeled my resolve and picked up the cup in order to investigate its magical matrix. Immediately I felt the scrying mind of an unknown force but I fought it away and continued to peer into the artifacts matrix. I determined that there was powerful enchantment magic at play. Unfortunately by the time I was done, nary a minute later, the being on the other side of the magical tendrils leading out from this cup was able to divine from me my name and physical location. I had specifically tried not to keep any important information on the top layer of my thoughts, however I could not fight it completely.

I told Kard that we shouldn't touch the chalice any longer so he rolled it up in a carpet and we went in search of a safe location to stash it.  I disabled the lock in the door to the next room first.  It was a fortuitous move because the room turned out to be a storage area of some manner. Kard stashed the chalice behind several mattresses which were stacked vertically and I extinguished my infusion of light to ensure that the chalice magical light was completely hidden by the coverings. Using my tools I was able to lock the door again, but for added security of our prize I very carefully jammed the lock mechanism with some sealing wax and lint. It wouldn't stop a dedicated being from getting through that door, but it would slow them down and an indifferent creature might be prone to give up on any attempt.

While we were stashing the magical chalice, Magnus, Aleae, and Clarion had entered into a parlay down the stairs with Alain ir'Valish, the Blue Wraith, whom we had been seeking by order of Three. When Kard and I returned, the entire party moved further down the stairs to a small room where we spoke with Alain face to facel he who was there with an animated suit of armor as a guard. The Blue Wraith did not seem troubled by our presence, or our constant threats to his life (and Magnus issued many of these), as one might expect. Instead, he remained calm and maintained that our situation was hopeless and he offered us a diplomatic option forward. He demanded that we hand over our weapons and be safely escorted deeper into the Keep where those who were in charge would speak with us and potentially consider an alliance. Alain also insisted that he himself was a visitor, who had been invited by Governor Trazzen to Glyphstone Keep, and therefore his was a position of legitimacy. We, according to him, were the intruders. Trazzen, he said, was currently preoccupied by a project of some importance.

We already knew from Sylvander, the gnome forger, and from Three that there was reason to suspect a growing threat to Breland. Emperical evidence suggested this project was at least related to it. I threatened Alain ir'Valish one more time, stating that as an agent of the Brelish Crown I would have his head, attached or otherwise. It was then that he smiled at me and said that he would "see King Boranel cold and dead" before he would submit to incarceration. These words did not alleviate my growing anger, but he was offering us the means of a diplomatic meeting with the other members of his criminal cohorts.

This might have been our own only chance. I immediately handed over my melee weapons, dagger and rapier—which the animate suit of armor accepted—and I instructed my companions to do the same. However no one else seemed to understand the opportunity or gravity intrinsic to this situation and I was alone in my surrender. In fact, Alain was uninterested in continuing discussions after that. When another threat was made against him, he gestured for his guard to open the door at the other end of the room and this somehow sprang a trap on us, unleashing razor sharp bronze spears from the wall, damaging most members of the party including myself and Rungo.

Magnus waded into the wizard, swinging his maul in a fury, but the weapon passed harmlessly through him. Alain's appearance seemed to be illusionary. The animate armor was not, however, and Magnus switched his rage against it to devastating effect. Dar quickly set a wall of pure elemental wind upon Alain, in case magic would avail us, but he was neither affected by the wall nor damaged in any way. It was clear to me that he was simply not present but had projected himself by illusion. We quickly dispatched the animate suit of armor with a coordinated attack.

As we pressed further down the next set of stairs, Magnus intercepted a human female only a little younger than Alain, but Dar quickly realized this was Lorsanna ir'Valesh, a woman she had fought with during the war. Magnus wanted to kill her, and Aleae didn't trust her, but Clarion and Kard told him to hold back whilst Dar communicated with her. As a sign of her unwillingness to fight, Lorsanna offered Simel her wand, but I took hold of it before he could touch it in case it was cursed. It was clear to me that this woman, like Alain, was an arcanist of some kind.

Lorsanna was insistent that we needed to leave Glyphstone Keep, lest we be slain by enemies too numerous and powerful to overcome. She herself wished to be free of this place and she told Dar that she teleport them to relative safey, and to Dar's brother, Sah, who was allegedly trapped in a prism as she was. Dar was clearly enticed, though not at first immediately sure she should abandon our mission. We pushed Lorsanna to reveal more of what she knew of this place. She cited several important facts, each of which I would have preferred to record in greater depth. However, they are summarized here.

• Governor Trazzen had been set up by Avashad as the commander of Glyphstone Keep. He is overseeing one of Avashad’s projects in the bowels of the dungeon involving the construction of what Lorsanna has heard referred to as a “plague machine.”
• Previously, only the oni, Hiraz, had been dwelling in the dungeons of Glyphstone. With the arrival of Avashad, an alliance was made between them.
• Hiraz had installed a teleportation circle somewhere on the level below this one, allowing the transport of creatures from Droaam such as gnolls.
• Harpies, also, had come from Droaam. We knew this already from Sorrel, Hiraz's brother.
• Knights of the Order of the Emerald Claw had come. We knew this because we'd seen some, and Sylvander had also said this.
• The Children of Winter, which from Dar we had learned was a hostile group of druids, were also represented here, and led by an "archdruid" named Frost. Lorsanna was particularly afraid of this human.
• Alain ir'Valish, although he had accepted the invitation to come and meet with Trazzen, was here primarily because he is interested in discovering the fate of the Brelish wizard Elidac. We had heard this name before from Three, and Kard is also eager to seek out this man for reasons of his own.
• Alain believes he has found where Elidac is: He discovered a hidden stairwell that leads back up to the ground level of Glyphstone Keep, where a new "floating tower" is situated amidst the ruins of this ancient fortress. He believes that is where Elidac resides. According to Three, four like-minded wizards from the other of the Five Nations went with him.

All of these facts—especially the one threat of of a machine to be used against Breland—confirmed for us that we were in the right place and definitely were not going to leave, as Lorsanna had advised. Simel had come with us because there was a bounty on the head of the Blue Wraith and because the Order of the Emerald Claw was involved in these goings-on. He would not be leaving anytime soon.

Lorsanna had suggest, during the course of this hurried discussion, that she and her entire family were dominated by someone or something, and it was not Avashad and his allies. She was hesitant to say who. This was reminiscent of the nature of Hiraz's slave, but I suspected something even greater. Dar, who Lorsannah referred to solely as "Loh" (her changeling name?) insisted on knowing just who it was that governed the ir'Valish family and was the reason behind her actions. Whatever their history together, Dar—Loh—obviously believed Lorsanna owed her more explanations. I do like explanations. They are productive.


Lorsanna grew quiet, then finally said "Azohirr" owned them.

"Who is that?" Dar pressed.

"A devil," Lorsanna admitted, which certainly gives credence to the rumors we'd heard that the ir'Valish family was involved with devil worship.

Dar and Lorsanna exchanged further, emotional information, relating to past events, including the prismatic prison where we first encountered, and freed, Dar. Dar believed her prison to be betrayal, but Lorsanna claimed it was for her own protection. They did not explain this to my satisfaction, but I realized there wasn't time. Lorsanna was pressed for time. She said that if she remained, her life was forfeit, and that if she died, the devil would "claim" her. I assume she was referring to her soul, which is of course a difficult point to quantify. Nevertheless, I am now curious about the nature of diabolic acquisition, but that can be worked out another time.

Finally, Dar accepted her offer to go to her brother Sar. Lorsanna asked for her wand back and I asked her why should would have a need of it. She asked me, with great interest in my answer, if I cared about Dar's future safety. I looked at Dar, a bit perplexed by the question stated so bluntly. I handed the wand back to Lorsanna ir'Valesh, as the situation has made her an ally.

After a brief exchange of salutations between Dar and the other party members, Lorsanna cast a spell of teleportation—that is no simple spell—and she and Dar vanished together.

#85 - Shape the Flowing River

Translated from the Pelgah do Sahlessh [The Journal of Sahlessh]

When I first emerged from the darkness, I was groggy. There were others around me, but I seemed unable to take things in. My mind was fuzzy, like gazing through the flurries of the first snow of winter. As clarity returned, I took stock of those around me.

They did not immediately attack me; perhaps they are friends.

A huge humanoid with purple skin and ivory horns loomed over the group. Eyes as bright as a field of snow pierced out from the pools of black surrounding them. Strapped to his back was the same weapon that plunged me into the darkness over a year ago. Next to the fiend stood a Bringer of Fire! A giant man with bits of dragon scale and flame-like tattoos covering his body. Surely, the giant who abducted me must be colluding with the Seren traitor.

Perhaps they were not friends after all.

Next to the Seren were six from the Land of Demons—and a beast unlike any I have seen before. Two of the demons were men, one clad in thin sheets of metal and carrying a hammer and a shield, the other wearing a long cape and a bow slung over his back. There were two women as well: One wearing an armor that reminded me of leaves and trees, and carrying a staff. The other was surely the frailest person I have ever encountered, likely elf-kind. I did not know it was possible to stand with legs so thin.

I can only assume that the last two were korshimi di aryte [machines of war]. Our people have heard of these constructs with their bodies of wood, stone, and metal that have been used to wage war. One of the pair had pipes and tubes along its back and cast a shadow that any Seren would be proud to call his own. The other was hard to discern given how many things were strapped to its body. Next to this one was a dog of the same nature as the korshimi.

The Seren, who calls himself Magnus, spoke to me. He had many questions, but I was reluctant to answer them. Was this all an elaborate ruse to find out what the Frostblades know of the Bringers of Fire and of Katashka? If it is a ruse, then why did Magnus offer me a weapon? Perhaps he knew I had no need of it.

I was wary of all of them, but after a brief discussion with the purple-skinned fiend, I was made to realize that if they had meant me harm, it would have arrived already. This group is my best chance of exiting this place and reviving the Winter Coalition. The giant, which the others called an oni, then parted ways with us to tend to his own affairs. All of us were allegedly in the dungeons below a very old fortress known as Glyphstone Keep. The oni knew these people and was, as near as I can guess, an ally if not a friend.

We left the room and began to explore the area. An enormous glowing chalice rested upon a raised area surrounded by water. The chalice cast a dim light throughout the chamber. Three of the group, one of the korshimi, the human in metal armor, and the frail one lingered there to examine the pool and the chalice.

The others crossed the expanse and came to a wall with a row of doors. We approached the first one and found it locked. The other korshimi played at the door with some tools and opened it.
I could see immediately that the room did not hold Saralith or my belongings, nor did it provide an exit from this place, so there was no use in remaining there. I left the group and began to examine the other doors to see if any of them were useful. I proceeded to try the doors one by one to see if any of the others were unlocked. When I reached the penultimate door, the final door opened and two figures emerged.

One was clearly a filg [ghoul]. I have encountered their kind before. The other seemed to be human, but I could not be certain in the dim amber light. He pointed at me and the filg rushed towards me. I called out to my new… companions? “Clax voenllyl!” [Take heed]

As the filg neared, an idea came to mind. It was like the sun as it climbs the mountain peaks. At first it is the hint of something, but as it crests, suddenly the world is bathed in light. I knew my course of action. I had to learn the true nature of the Bringer of Fire and those from the Land of Demons. What better way to learn their intentions than to see how they defend the weak and the helpless: me!

I could tell from their battle cries that the group would soon join in the combat; I just didn’t know which side they would join. Just in case they were going to join the filg, I moved to the far side to ensure that I would not be flanked.

As I moved within range of the filg, I immediately realized that this one was different. Its smell was not that of a normal filg. Usually filgi do not have an odor, except from the carrion they devour. Their flesh, despite their state of undeath, is like the flesh of an animal frozen in the ice, it does not rot. Yet this one had the stench of a Seren warrior after his rite of passage. The aroma was pungent, putrid and was sweet, much like the smell of the very old before they die. I was so surprised that I did not even think to temper my breath and I inhaled deeply. It felt as though death had crawled into my lungs. The itch from inside was so distracting I nearly let the filg hit me; fortunately, my body remembered the training that my mind forgot and I shifted my weight as the thing’s claws reached for my face, narrowly avoiding the blow.

I punched towards the wretched thing’s head. I would surely have hit it, had I not been pulling my blows. Instead, I allowed my attack to veer off the centerline and glance the filg’s temple harmlessly.
The group approached. From the fountain, the large korshimi with the pipes trundled towards me, glowing all the while. He was followed by the frail one. Why would she run towards a fight? I saw no sign of the man wrapped in metal. Magnus charged out from the room at full speed carrying a torch and a white club that looks to be made of bone. The cloaked man also exited the room, but he did not close much distance, instead he loosed a pair of arrows. I was lucky they did not hit me.

The filg again tried to sink its razor sharp claws into me. Filgi can be fast, but this one was not. It is easy to avoid a blow when it approaches in a straight line. It is also easy to make it seem as though the blow was closer than it was. I kicked out at the filg’s knee, hoping to off balance it somewhat. As my foot contacted its flesh the filg shifted towards the right. I withdrew my foot and launched out my hand to the creature’s throat, aiming just to the left so that I would miss by a narrow margin.
It takes skill to fight without weapons. It takes great skill to make a fight look genuine. I believe today, I had great skill.

Before the creature could swing for me a third time two arrows sank themselves into its back. Not many could make a shot at this distance in dim light: the cloaked man has great skill as well. The arrows hurt the filg; its next attack did not have the same zeal that the first two had. I side-stepped its swipe and launched my foot at its ribs. There is a spot just under the twelfth where you can burst the spleen of a man with a hard kick. Filgi are not men any longer and have no need of their spleen.

The fight was going well. I was unharmed and could see that this group was clearly on my side. Soon I would be able to see their full nature. Many things can be hidden, but one cannot hide how they fight. When you have trained in the martial arts, you can read a man’s mind by watching him in combat. When Magnus joined the fray, he dropped his torch and took his great maul in two hands. Without breaking stride swept the creature's lower half away with the marvelous weapon, which seemed to channel the cold of the mountains in its path. He bears a strange weapon for one of his tribe.

This fight was over.

“Mobi re throdenilt crodr wer cuaili.” [There are more inside the room], I said.

I scooped up the torch and ran into the room to find the armored human who had first exited with the filg, but to my great surprise, the room was uninhabited. There was a desk and some furniture scattered throughout the room, but no occupants. In the mountains, when you want to find prey, you follow their tracks in the snow. I began to look for areas in which the dust of the room had been disturbed. No sooner had I begun my search than the frail one alerted us that the human wrapped in metal—did she call him Kard?—was in trouble. It was time for me to prove my intentions to them.

From my distance, I could see that Kard had wrested the chalice from its position and was being engaged by what looked like a serpentine column of water.

We raced towards his location. Kard was fumbling at his belt trying to douse the animate column of water with vials of his own. Considering the religious iconography of his armor, I had to assume it was holy water he employed. But water is water—what could he hope to achieve by this? Is it not like brushing the snow from your sleeve in the midst of a blizzard? Even as I struggled to grasp the utility of this action, the creature morphed with blinding speed The creature evaded the liquid from the vial as easily as I evaded the filg’s attacks. Kard was clearly out matched.

The cloaked archer turned his lethal bow towards the water creature and began to shout slurs about its father—does water have paternal origins? I question the sanity of this cloaked man. The frail elf gestured at the water demon and flame shot from her hands! I have never seen magic like this. We revere the power of frost and ice, not fire. Is she in liege with the same forces that govern Magnus? The water of the demon steamed a bit, but it did not seem greatly disturbed by the fire. Even I know that water defeats fire, for it is everlasting.

As I neared the melee, I decided to demonstrate that the power of ice was superior. I called upon the magics that the Sacred Whites taught my kinsmen and I: I transformed some of the water of the pool into a staircase of ice, linking Kard, who stood upon the plinth at its center, to the fountain's rim. In one swift move, I had created an escape route for the reckless human and a path for us to engage the water demon. Hopefully my new allies—if allies they are—will take note of the true elemental hierarchy.

Kard broke free from the grasp of the water demon and as swiftly down the ice as he dared, still carrying the oversized chalice. Magnus heaved his club once again, and the archer pierced the creature with two more arrows and the demon’s form lost its cohesion. It splashed back into the pool, dead or dispersed, we could not tell which. Kard still had the chalice hoisted upon his shoulder, now emitting an amber hue. Aleae—I am now beginning to retain their names—determined that needed to bring it to the korshimi, Cypher to inspect.

Finally, we were not running any longer. We returned to the room where Cypher and the woman Dar had been left behind, and we found the door closed and our entrance barred. Aleae listened and reported hearing voices in Draconic—one of which did not belong to Cypher or Dar. I heard her attempt to speak to me in my native tongue earlier and I’m not convinced that she would be capable of understanding what was being said, door or no door. She appeared to know several languages but her mastery of Draconic was limited. I listened as well, but the door was too thick to make out the voices clearly. Growing impatient with inaction, Magnus decided to kick down the door. He’s very strong, but perhaps not as wise. The door won this battle.

As the echoes of his effort began to die down, our common enemies returned. The door at the far end of the same wall, where the filg had first emerged, opened again and armored figures loosed crossbow bolts ineffectually at us. After some return fire from our archer, eight new figures emerged. There were three filgi, three olqeini [skeletons] and two kaegro [undead] that I did not recognize. I quickly positioned myself between the monsters and the group and waited to see what would happen next.

The kaegro ran towards us with alarming speed, followed closely by the filgi and the olqeini. At the same time, several crossbow bolts skittered about the floor near us. They had missed, but not by much. As the evil group neared, Aleae once again began to speak her mystic words and a storm to rival the weather of the dragons appeared locally over the evil things. Ice began to fall from the air in huge chunks, battering the olqeini into dust. This elf learns quickly Indeed, she has already noted the power of ice. The filgi and kaegro were injured, but continued to come towards us. I thought that Aleae’s magic was complete, but to my great surprise, seven bolts of magical energy emerged from her fingers—surprising her?—and slammed into the two kaegro, injuring them gravely

The cloaked one, Simel, set to work with his bow once again, landing arrow after arrow into the torsos of the kaegro. The large korshimi, Clarion, and I raced towards the kaegro to engage them, while Magnus lingered, determined to prove his strength was greater than the door’s.

As I came within range, I struck out with my fist towards the first kaegro’s chin. The feeling of knuckle meeting flesh is quite satisfying, particularly because it gauges the perfect range to follow with the elbow. My elbow snapped its head around to an even more unnatural angle and it crumpled to the ground. I continued onwards towards the second kaegro. The glowing korshimi with the pipes, Clarion, reached it first and swiftly dispatched it from this realm. Magnus seemed to make some headway with the door. It was now shattered in pieces, but the pieces were suspended in the air, still effectively barring the way. How long will he persist? It is like waiting for the bear to wake at the end of winter, will he not join the fight?”

We had only a moment before the filgi set upon us. One came towards me and had luck on its side as it slashed its claws across my chest. I could feel the chill of death in those foul nails and the toxins of its evil drained into me. My body lost its normal alacrity. I was no longer in control of my limbs and I slumped to the floor, paralyzed. Finally, a true test of character! Would this group save me, or leave me to the lifeless beasts that beset us. My lingering doubts were washed away instantly.

Simel loosed another set of arrows—the man has an endless supply!—into the chest of the beast, attempting to draw its attention away from the feast my body presented to it. Clarion engaged the other two filgi. Kard appeared to realize that the evil beasts were a larger threat than the door that would not open. He raised his hand and his book and began to speak words of faith with great conviction. The unliving things were clearly disturbed by the display of light and power. They shrieked and began to flee.

The prospect of being paralyzed.
(Particularly by a ghoul.)

I am not sure how this will turn out, but I now believe that I can trust this group. If I survive, I will have to tell them of my mission and hope that they will aid me in this most crucial endeavor.