Tuesday, April 8, 2014

#58 - Dragons and Deceipt


As told by Magnus of the Island of Seren.


These dragons were lying to us.

Filthy sneaky green dragons always lie. Just like in the old story we heard from the river captain, green dragons are tricky. As we stood here at the mouth of the cave, I told Clarion and Rendar that I was sure the dragons lied about everything and that Cyper and Aleae were in grave danger. I thought that those green dragons, young as they are, were usurpers like Garcerix, and that Sorethyress is an old dragon like Lucerix, and I bet she was in trouble from these new greens…

Finally Clarion agreed with me and he headed down the hall to see what he could see. It was't long before he comes back having been detected by the female. At least he could report that they’re all well down where Cypher is “healing” one of the little dragons.

And then, soon enough, Cypher reported that he was finished and that we could return. We did, and the little greens seemed to have actually been truthful...so far. Cypher had freed the male wyrm from the circle of power than bound it, and the other was telling us that her “aunt” was in the next room—ensorcelled by some sort of mirror and unable to move.

Size comparison between an old green
dragon and an average-sized warforged.
I asked for our gem back so that we could prove to Sorethyress that we came from the king of Breland and that we were there in honesty. Soon enough, we were making our way forward, leaving the young greens behind us. There were vapors filling the passage around us and we soon entered a huge chamber filled with mist, gas, and a large pool of water likewise tainted by venomous fumes. The gas seemed to affect Clarion and Rendar somewhat. Strange, as warforged don't even breathe.

Half submerged in the pool was a huge green dragon, wreathed in noxious gas, with her head arched up toward a ledge up the wall. She was breathing hard and the poison was venting out of her open mouth, filling the cavern all around her. A few seconds confirmed that she was not otherwise moving. I scampered up the wall and saw that she was indeed lost, looking in a mirror: a mirror of polished black stone, part of a flattened side of a huge chunk of obsidian. The last time we had seen such reflective black rock it was deep underground—and Halbazar was affected by it.

The rest of the party followed me and Cypher started to circle the huge block of mirror-stone. He learned that it had small runes all  over it and that there was lots of magic involved. He said it was Goblin in origin. Matheu the pseudodragon was there too—he was stuck staring into the mirror and he said to us in our minds (his body not moving), “I cannot look away."

The demon behind the dark mirror
was as much bone as flesh, with
brain matter visible through its spine.
With permission, we draped a cloak over him and got him away from the dark mirror. I said we should do the same thing for the Sorethyress, but all the rest of them thought that she was engaged in some kind of contest with her mind and that breaking her gaze might hurt her. This was not our goal."

As we looked into the mirror, we all eventually see some bone-demon on the other side, it seems to be staring right at Sorethyress. A second, smaller, almost monkey-like demon also lingered in the dark reflection, though we could not all see it at first.

Either way, the bone demon seemed to be the source of our problem, at least with Sorethyress. Rendar, who had stayed below, circled the large cave, crossing the lake and finds corpses of two other smaller dragons on the other side. Sorethyress has had an interesting year! Meanwhile, Cypher put on the Emperor's Key and commanded the mirror to "open," whatever that's supposed to mean.

Rendar soon joined us and just as quickly approached and put his ear against the mirror. His body froze in place and we could see his reflection moving on the other side of the mirror! Soon enough, we all experimented and found that we could cross back and forth from one side to the other. Although it looked physically present, the bone demon was insubstantial and we could not seem to affect him.

We explored the tunnel and found a path back away from the mirror face. There was an intersection and the glimmer of fire across the hall.  Some twisted stairs came up to this level from a deep chasm and we saw a ghostly apparition walking, then flying, up the stairs toward us. Singing. An elf woman and then another in rotting garments. They both seemed to recognize Aleae in some way and targeted her first. They used their voices like a weapon, and the scream from one of them created a sensation in me like no other. I became...bodiless for a few moments, if that makes any sense. When it was over and I reformed, the pain was a memory, but it was stronger than any I had ever known. I did not like this place and its lack of physical things.

We killed the banshee and its sibling. By this time we had all notice that we had thin tendrils of magic connecting us to our bodies in the real world, to the mirror we had come from…. I sure hoped we would stay connected to it!

We pressed on down tunnel towards the fiery glow.

Soon enough we saw a HUGE DEMON covered in fire and horns and with huge bat wings from its shoulders. Even in our spirit-like state I knew I had never been in the presence of something more dangerous, more powerful, except for one....

The demon was standing still, facing another mirror wall and beyond it we could see a dark space....a cavern or nighttime valley, and within it, just behind the glass, a massive red dragon sitting there. Not sitting, but perched, staring back through the mirror just like Sorethyress, but even more angrily, fire belching from its mouth.

I couldn't believe what I was seeing, but I knew deep inside me though I had seen him with my own eyes only once before: It was LUCERIX HIMSELF, squaring off against this mighty demon.

He was moving about but his eyes never left the demon. This was the time of the prophecy! This was the time where men can truly aid the dragons. I flew into a rage and attacked the demon with my mace, though it towered over me at twice my height.  I charged and his fire burned me. I make a perfect swing, and it passed through his form like smoke. But he felt it—just barely.

He shrugged and grunted and a few of little demonic minion dogs popped in out of nowhere and tried to drive us off. The rest of the party did not share my desire to kill this demon or die in the trying. They focused on the dogs and are yelling for me to flee.

Never.

They killed the minor demons—by now it seems we were becoming slightly more "solid"—and launched attacks at the greater demon itself. I continued to burn in his flames and mashed at him with my maul. We seemed to be dragging him into this realm, or we were being dragged into his. Our attacks were at least distracting him.

Lucerix seemed to notice the demon’s disarray. The great red dragon redoubled his efforts and flame spewed from his jaws as he snarled. This was the glorious partnering of man and dragon. We shall help him to victory! I would die here.

And then, Lucerix spoke, and his voice rolled through the mirror. "SEREN!" he roared, and I knew he meant me. He could not see me, or us, I think, but he could feel our presence. None is greater than Lucerix. Through spouts of flame and moments of intense struggle against the demon, Lucerix spoke these words:

“The Defiler has already come…he has weakened Seren…
...and divided the Light of Siberys…  
Find the descendant of Vensharatryx. She lives yet. 
The Defiler fears what she...can reform…”

My glorious rage drove me beyond the words of my dragon lord. I would continue to fight this demon until I was dead or Lucerix has won… I continue to pound at his smoky form and burn with every swing. I did not want to hear what my lord was telling me but I did (or do) understand: this battle was not for me. The demon was greater than us...for now. If it could hold Lucerix in place, it was mighty indeed.

Yet dragon-fueled rage kept me going. The demon's flames continue to burn. My friends were shouting for me to flee with them. The others had even discerned another figure there, standing at the base of Lucerix, but I wasn't paying attention. My lord had, I was trying to understand, given me a new mission.

Tuesday, March 11, 2014

#57 - Spiders and Dragons

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


We were about to be overrun by a contingent of overly large spiders and humanoids with distinct arachnoid features. In addition, maneuvering single-file on the lower ledge of the precipice was tactically disadvantageous for the more martial fighters in the group. Once I noticed the ambush I immediately set up an arcane springboard to propel the party up onto the wide opening in front of the dragon’s cave. Most of the party was able to navigate the springboard without incident. Aleae proved too weak to make it all the way to the safety of the ridge but her eladrin agility allowed her to grasp the wall of the cliff a few feet below the top. She was quickly overtaken by a spidery foe who could walk on walls and remained in place against the wall for the remainder of combat. Fortunately, her chaotic magic does not require firm footing, as she remained a participant throughout the battle.
Ettercaps: shepherds of
not-so-innocuous spiders 

Rendar, however, never even made it to my springboard before its arcane energy was exhausted. Unwilling to release the unconscious elf woman they had rescued from the webs, he stayed below to fight off the numerous foes. It was an incorrect move, however, as the elf turned out to be the illusionary form of the dryad that inhabited the (diseased-looking) tree above.

She disappeared from his grasp just as he was overrun by the enemies. Ettercaps, spidery humanoid monsters of an unknown origin to me, quickly pinioned Rendar with sticky webbing and it took all of his strength to simply remain active. He was not my concern, however, as the battle on the dragon’s cave opening commenced.

As we were attacked from three sides by spiders and ettercaps, an unseen druidic magic user ensnared the party with instant organic growth. I did not attempt to break free at first, choosing instead to expend as much artifice as I could early in the battle to help my companions. 


The true form of a dryad
is plant-like and alien
Just as I was about to infuse Magnus’s weapon with fire energy, the dryad revealed herself to me and provided unexpected strategic aid. She pointed out several weapons protruding from the chest of treasure that, which was sent in fealty to the green dragon Sorethyress by the valiant Brelish agents a year earlier. The dryad told me that they could help in the battle and that it was safe for me to use them. I ordered Rungo to break me free of the entangling vines holding me in place and ran forth to retrieve the weapons. As I opened it, a powerful blast of untethered magical energy was released from the wooden chest. I realized instantly that I had set off a trap of considerable potency. With the practiced skill of years of artifice training, I channeled all of my life force into containing the blast. It took me several seconds to dissipate the energy, whilst which I was unable to contribute to the battle, but no one else was harmed. 

We managed to disable or fend off the remaining attackers with fire and weapon, and lend aid to Rendar down below. Aleae fought her side of the battle almost entirely from the side of the cliff wall, clasped in vines but managing to expel her sorcery. Clarion used tones of sonic magic to frighten or otherwise ward away some of our foes, and for reasons not yet explained, Rendar was given the capability of defying gravity and walking up the walls with his hands free. With the battle concluded, the pseudodragon Matheu soon vanished again.

I explored the portcullis blocking the entrance to the dragon’s cave while the rest of the party repaired themselves, noting that nothing would open it aside from the control mechanism which we could not find. Instead, we chose to explore the cave opening underneath the waterfall. 

I remained above ground last, carefully lowering Rungo down to the cave in a harness when the dryad appeared before me again with a grave warning. She told me with great clarity that we were not to return there or face grave danger again. She was almost apologetic in her tone and I probed her as to her purpose in orchestrating an attack against us. She said that the “intruder dragon” had forced her to cooperate with the spiders to protect the cave’s opening. When I pressed, she confirmed that the dragon she spoke of was not in fact Sorethyress, but then she vanished from my sight. I wasted no time in climbing down to the cave opening. 

 Aleae was most distressed that I did not make use of a rope harness but I told her that I had calculated my climbing abilities to be sufficient to take the risk of falling compared to the risk of perturbing the tree spirit further.

Inside the cave we encountered a green dragon. An actual full-sized, although its body was no longer than fifteen feet from snout to tail. I had much knowledge of dragons, of course, from my various studies. One can not touch upon the academic study of magic without learning of dragons, not to mention all histories of Eberron begin far enough back in the Age of Dragons. This dragon was not Sorethyress, however, and in fact seemed to have no interest in speaking to me, even in its native tongue. I do not think I have ever seen Magnus appear as excited as he was then. The dragon expelled a cloud of poisonous gas in front of us as a warning, and this prospect of quick death did not seem to dampen the Seren's mood.

Magnus and Aleae were able to converse with the mighty beast, who turned out to be just a child in dragon terms, and he showed us his sister, a nearly identical green dragon lying nearly lifeless on the ground of the cave completely circumscribed by an arcane circle. The dragon took the Brelish ruby that was supposed to prove our providence but would not accept our allegiance as truth. 

Instead he demanded we prove our honesty by saving his sister. The logic of this escaped me, although green dragons are known to prefer riddle over force. I went to inspect the ailing dragon and the arcane markings but was rebuffed by the brother. My attempts at diplomacy failed me but Aleae was able to convince the draconic beast that I was his best chance of saving the female dragon. He acquiesced, but only allowed Aleae and myself to stay, hissing at the rest of the party to return to the mouth of the cave "...or die." When they had acquiesced, the young dragon clasped Aleae and forced her against the cave wall in his claws. He spoke to me to heal his sister or the eladrin would die.

I only hope that Aleae’s proclaimed faith in my abilities proves to be true. Not even a warforged’s resilient alchemical makeup can survive the disabling toxins of a green dragon’s poison. The eladrin would likely succumb even quicker.


Thursday, February 27, 2014

#56 - River Voyage

As told by Magnus of the Island of Seren.


Like an airship, but on the water. Simpler, too, the elemental power of this gnomish boat was nowhere to be seen, but neither oar nor sail was in sight either. Only a steady hum beneath it. We got on board finally. Cypher wanted one last look at the markets to see if there was anything for any of his empty pouches. I reminded him that we had been days in town with plenty of time to browse. I was really ready to get out of the city and breathe some clean air.

The two Stormwalkers walked up toward the gangplank. We said a small hello and Eshka gave me a gift she had made of the purple worm tail barb, the one that holed my armor. Now its length had been oven and fused with a wooden club, sharpened on the narrow end like a stake. She said I could study it to bond with its power, that it would protect against all forms of poison. It could even absorb, once each day, venom delivered by injection, then store it for my own use. Knowing that the green dragon breathed poison the way a red blows flame, I was happy to have the gift. Indeed, its name in the language of this land would be translated as "poison-shield," or more correctly, "shield against the breath of the green wyrm."

We agree to meet in Wroat, the capital of this kingdom, in a few days and to continue searching for a path to a cure for Seren. They suggested that if I happen to see any dragons, I should ask about the fate of Seren and the dragons we know by name. I took the idea, I would not have thought of that.  How are they so informed about our secret mission?  I know only that fate guides me.

After a little chatter we got on board and the trip was easy, fast and safe. The cabins had decent bunks, too. Not many bugs and quiet on the river. I slept the dragon sleep every night. Also, the food was plentiful. I think I will get fat as I get older. Sleeping in leaves and eating dried meat is no way to live.

On the trip we passed a great old castle and heard some tales. Glyphstone, it is called? Anyway, it was older than this "Last War" even, older than all the human nations on this continent, but now it was a ruin. We'll probably see it on the way back too. The story the chatty gnome captain told of it involved angels who once led great armies from one of these Khorvairian nations. The land of Thrane serves a force called the Silver Flame which is like, yet not like, a god. It sounds more like a misunderstanding of the collective might of dragonkind, or maybe a great silver wyrm was its founder. Well, after these angels' time in the war, there is now a legend told that one of them did not return to the heavens but went into Glyphstone Keep instead and never came back out. This land is full of stories. 

Cypher spent time learning about my new purple worm club and he explained its use to me better.  I spend time becoming attuned to it. I am ready to use it.

We also heard an interesting version of an old shaman’s parable about what dragons thought of the humanoid races when we showed up ages ago. It is a tale that also shows what each dragon is like, how each color is different from the others. These mainlanders need to study up on their dragon lore, though; they get a lot wrong and maybe even oversimplify things. Here is the mainland version:
Metallic dragons

Dragon Parable

Long ago, ten children of Eberron gathered on a beach beneath the Sentinel Moon, there to discuss the fate of mortals.

Red and Gold agreed: "These lesser, softskin creatures are meant to be serve, be commanded, or kept aloof. Those who defy us or lack respect declare themselves unfit and become food."

Green disagreed. "Mortals should be manipulated, for their wits are dim. We need not roar, but merely whisper, to command them, and they will think their ideas are their own. We will reap the rewards, as our mother intended."

Copper concurred, to a point. "Men are for sport, for recreation if not for food. Befriend them or trick them as you will. Or let them walk where they please as long as it isn’t our lairs. Slaughter is needless. Interaction is useful."

"Leave them alone," White said. "But freeze them if they leave us not alone."

"Melt them," Black rejoined. "Whenever it pleases, for they are beneath us. We are Eberron's children, they are her castoff toys. Dissolve their forms so she can remake them."


Then another spoke. "The world would be enriched by gathering the dreams of mortals and dragons alike.” Silver was concerned always with dreams. "Slay only those who would slay in turn."
Chromatic dragons

Brass joined in. "Men have words to share and ears to hear. Dissemination is for demons, not mortals. Their lives are brief enough, let them burn brightly before."

“Yes,” Red said again. "Let them burn.”

"I would hear them as well," Gold added, swayed by Brass’s words. And that is where Red and Gold did not agreed.

"Mortals live but a moment," Blue said, seldom speaking. "Let them be industrious, to craft treasures and gift them to us. It is surely our mother's design."

Bronze, who had been silent, raised his wings. "I would hear more about them first. What do they think is their destiny?" 


The rest of the voyage was easy. Rendar started up a card game involving dragons. It was quaint but was no real test of skill and strength. Clarion wanted to play a different sort of strategy game; he spent a lot of time carving wooden pieces, too. I even managed to engage the pseudodragon, Matheu, when he wasn't invisible. He likes to listen, not so much talk. He is a curious one.

We also spoke about battle strategies, as a company. And I realized, strangely, for the first time, that I truly was more powerful in the company of these new friends. They were nothing like my kin and my tribesman, and maybe we were not equal to a true warband of Firebrings, but we are a force to be reckoned with. As they say back home, our hoard is more than the sum of its coins, and I am greater with them than I am alone.

It was on the third day that the captain told us that we were getting close to the town at the mouth of the river. Woodhelm. Suddenly, everyone remembered that they forgot to really listen as to where the map started, the one Three had given us. I had something about the first sight of town, but not much else. Luckily Mattheu reminded us about a wyvern skull in the thickets on the west side of the river.

That evening, we saw the lights of town and soon spied the skull—and Matheu perched nearby—as predicted. A gnome rowed us to shore and dropped us off. I was so happy to be in the trees, small as they were. It had been a while since I’d really been out in the woods, I am looking forward to an above ground adventure and I am very curious about seeing a green dragon. I could hardly sleep in the nook I found in the branches.

In the morning, Clarion and Cypher put their heads together over the map and made a plan. Cypher and he would each mark the trail with the map, Cypher was to use spells to help his efforts. I was going to dribble hunter’s markings on the trail as we passed, to allow us a way out if we got lost. On the first night, some wolves stalked us. We didn’t get lost, and the wolves soon ran off.

On the second day, we almost got lost—and found a place on the map where the splitting trail didn't match up. We reasoned it out and I think we made the right choice, and only lost a few hours backtracking.

The path led us to a deep gorge, where a bridge reached across a gorge that led to a ledge with a cave at the back and a big chest spilling coins all over the ground. The lair and the offering, as we had been told. A stream emptied out into the gorge and we noticed a second ledge about twenty feet down from the lip. All around the lower ledge were spider webs. Big ones. Clarion noticed a couple of human-sized bundles at the right hand side, wrapped up in cocoons. One of the bodies wiggled a bit; still alive. We all agree that rescue was our first priority. I like these people because we hardly have to mention that sort of decision, we all agree.

Matheu appeared on a tree on our side of the bridge and said, “There is a door here.” He indicated the very tree trunk he was perched on. Indeed, as he says it, I could make out a door, always there, just hard to see. The door led into the tree and down a ladder to the ledge below. Curious. Who would make that?

We climbed down the stairs around the end of the little chasm, lots of webs. Under the bridge, Aleae uses fire to burn the webs, clearing a path. She should use fire more. The ledge passed under the waterfall and below us is another, smaller cave opening, also concealed by the waterfall.

We reach the wrapped figure and we cut her loose. It is a she-elf in woodsman’s clothes, she had been spider-stung in the belly. Perhaps she was from the first party sent to investigate the dragon’s lair. Too groggy to speak, we hoisted her up as Matheu announced us in our minds: “Spiders are coming."

True. There were lots of spiders, some of them very big, and they start pouring out of the webs at the far end, where we had walked by already, and some over the top of the rim. Even some spider-ish-looking men appear at the rim.  Bad news.

I had my new poison-shield that should help if I get bitten, but the rest of the party had no protection, and there were a LOT of spiders, more than I could ever imagine.

We have to get out of here.

Tuesday, February 18, 2014

#55 - Recreation and Royalty (Part 2)

The special dinner event with Three and Princess Haydith continued.

Soon some of the PCs were approached by a hobgoblin woman who introduced herself as Irakas. She was part of the Darguun delegation, whose presence the PCs were not informed of. Her attire was vaguely shamanistic, but clearly Dhakaani in design. She called herself a dirgesinger—an oral storyteller and historian of the Dhakaani culutre—and expressed an interested in hearing more about their involvement with Governor Trazzen.

Through this conversation, Cypher and Rendar provided a fairly thorough, if incomplete, account of their involvement with Trazzen. Irakas said she couldn't believe this was the Governor Trazzen—the traitorous ruler of Paluur Draal from thousands of years ago—for he was defeated and presumed dead, sealed in the mountain behind gates "that only the Emperor himself could open."

The warforged and half-orc exchanged glances, and finally Rendar revealed the presence of the Emperor's Key. This conversation occurred mostly in the Goblin tongue, with Aleae present—it is one of the few languages she didn't know. She glimpsed the medallion that he wore around his neck but didn't properly understand all that was said in front of her. To her deep consternation.

Lesh Haruuc, hobgoblin
ruler of Darguun
With the Emperor's Key revealed—and the manner of their acquiring it kept vague—Irakas became politely insistent that the artifact be returned to the heirs of Dhakaani. More specifically, to Lesh Haruuc, the chief warlord and nominal ruler of Darguun itself. She said she and her three companions would be able to escort the PCs to Darguun and to the capital city of Rhukaan Draal safely, so they could return the Emperor's Key to the lesh. Irakas was clear about this: that the Key did not belong to them, but rather to Darguun, and it should be given back. She said she would not try to take it from them. Their choice was: give it to them or carry it directly to Darguun's ruler.

The coveted
Emperor's Key
Once this was imparted to the others, both Magnus and Aleae distrusted the Darguun delegates the most. They said they expected the hobgoblins would inevitably try to take the Emperor's Key by force. Perhaps killing them would be the solution. But the others, especially Cypher and Rendar, disagreed that that was a wise option. Then again, they all liked the idea of being rid of the Emperor's Key, for it had brought—and perhaps still would bring—many enemies after them. In the end, it was decided that they needed more time to figure this out, especially now that they had a new quest—seeking the green dragon Sorethyress, on behalf of Three and the Brelish crown. Toward that end, Cypher spoke to Three directly about the situation, keeping specifics vague. The King's Protector agreed to talk to the Darguun hobgoblins and request that they allow the PCs to carry out their errand for him before they pursued other inquiries.

Soon after, the dinner was concluded and the PCs went and watched the performance of "Boranel's Triumph," a dramatic play performed by House Phiarlan and a local actor's guild in Galethspyre. This was the production's debut, which they intended to bring to Wroat next, then Sharn, if all went well. The show depicted the events up to and including the Battle of Brey's Crossing in 976 YK, often considered a seminel event in the history of the warforged, wherein King Boranel's was so impressed with the loyalty and stamina of his warforged guards, it inspired him to declare the Warforged Decree several years later. At the battle, King Boranel and only a handful of his warforged bodyguards managed to hold the bridge that spanned the Brey River against overwhelming Thrane forces. It was acknowledged, by Three himself and by this production—if not official historians—that that numbers were manageable due to the efforts (and numerous traps) laid down by a unit from the Brelish Engineers Brigade.

Of which Cypher had been a part.

Since returning to Galethspyre from their Seren islander sojourn and dalliance with bulettes and a purple worm, Kard was no where to be seen. But the Carnival Master, Mussfinch, did remark to them that their cleric companion had returned earlier that evening to Davenn's Arbor of Abominations, where the PCs had previously visited. Kard had agreed to return to "The Mourning Twins," one of (or a couple of) his former countrymen to speak in private. That is the last they'd heard of him.

The next morning the PCs returned to speak with Three and with Princess Haydith. Three gave them a map of sorts, a gleaming ruby, and some instructions for their secret mission:

  • They are not to touch the tribute left in front of Sorethyress's cave, once found. In addition to incurring her wrath, Brelish mages always ward the offering with spells to protect it. It would be unwise.
  • Once Soretheyress is found, show her the ruby—which cames from Queen Wroann's very scepter—as proof that they are the crown's emissaries.
  • They are not to provoke Sorethyress, merely determine the reason for her silence. She is a very old and very cantankerous green wyrm but has always been true to her word. 

Aleae spoke in private with Haydith, for the eladrin had seen the girl looking troubled the night before, had seen her reading and rereading a letter in her possession. They had an agreement: Aleae would allow her to look into the crystal orb she carred—an Eye of Thelanis, which could pierce the veil between Eberron and her home plane—if Haydith would tell her what troubled her. There was girl talk, and Haydith did seem deeply fascinated with what she saw in the eladrin's orb. Their meeting included with Aleae giving the girl some curious and risky advice on how to deal with her brother, whose letter it had been. Haydith's older brother being King Kaius III, the ruler of Karrnath.

The PCs had been given a choice of transportation methods for their journey to the Dragonwood. They could either take horses provided by the King's Citadel and follow the river to its source, or they could take a journey by riverboat upstream. They opted for the latter, and so that morning they went down to the docks to board the vessel in question.

There they found a curious river craft, aptly named the Sweet Scrag, for it was a gnomish elemental steamboat from Trolanport (Zilargo) with a carved, grinning, bow-and-ribboned female sea-troll as its figurehead. Its captain was a white-haired, topknotted matronly gnome woman who introduced herself as Deelera Dela Raladaran. She worked often with the Carnival of Shadows, had ferried them on the water before, and knew both the Master and Mistress of the Carnival. She came highly recommended.

Friday, February 7, 2014

#54 - Recreation and Royalty (Part 1)


Amidst the constant drizzle of rain, the PCs arrived by boat back at Galethspyre. When they were identified by the people at the docks, small pockets of crowd gathered to watch them. Not only were the known from the Korrangberg Chronicle, they’d earned a reputation from both the Carnival of Shadows and the elemental battle at the warehouse. Children continued to follow Clarion, for he alone had earned a reputation as a dispenser of sweets.

Cypher’s confused condition as “Claviger” seemed to fade away as they arrived as well. It was a matter of continued discussion, especially for Cypher himself. He seemed to retain some memories that were not his own. Notably, he cited the object of Claviger’s quest: a byeshk scimitar of great renown, at least from long ago. Known as Vaarza’Gresh (“Razor of Giants” in Goblin), it once wielded by Governor Trazzen, the greatest ruler of the Dhakaani city of Palurr Draal. It was said to be able to deliver devastating wounds to both aberrations and giant-kind.

The PCs had only a short time before the special dinner event with Three, the King’s Protector. Concerned about Cypher’s state, they inquired at the Brelish garrison. Lieutenant Terrek listened to their concerns but said he could only request that the artificer who’d examined him come speak with them again. He was not to be found at this time.

Then the PCs brought their tickets to the Carnival and were escorted by the elves, invisibly, around the city to the outdoor Arcadium, the temple of the Host and apparently the venue for the dinner event. A wide courtyard encircled the primary chapel, a nonagon-shaped building with shrines to each of the nine gods of the Sovereign Host. This is where Clarion, Aleae, and Kard had visited before. The rain had stopped and now the clear night played host to countless stars and several moons.

Tables were arrayed with food. Servants came and went. Phiarlan minstrels played music. Many guards of the King’s Citadel stood watchful. A House Vadalis handler was there with a massive, white-flecked dire bear, presumably some form of entertainment. Various and unusual guests, many of whom who’d clearly won enough shadow pieces, were in attendance. There was a quartet of hobgoblins—three males and one female—in Darguun armor, a lone Silver Flame knight, a table of Brelish veterans, and a pair of unusually-clothed foreigners who some guessed came from the continent of Sarlona.

Eventually, the PCs approached the head table, where Three, the King’s Protector, sat beside his charge and the other special guest of honor: the young Princess Haydith, sister of King Kaius III. She was part of the foreign exchange of royals. While she now lived in King Boranel’s court in Breland, two of Boranel’s children now lived in Kaius’s court. She was dressed darkly in aristocratic Karrnathi styles but also wore a scarf of Brelish blue. She looked and was a brooding teenager, but she seemed fond of her Brelish hosts. Also sitting with Three and Haydith were Mussfinch and Lady Amaryllis, Master and Mistress of the Carnival of Shadows.

Three, the King's Protector
Introductions were made, and Three—himself a paladin of Dol Arrah, like Clarion—was both polite and only mildly authoritative in his role as the King’s Protector. Cypher mentioned his having been part of the Battle of Brey’s Crossing, the event that cemented Three’s role as personal protector and friend of King Boranel. Three remembered that a unit of artificers and trapsmiths had been especially helpful that day, in 976 YK, and it was their cunning traps that made manageable the Thrane forces that King Boranel and his warforged guards staved off at the bridge. Three thanked Cypher for his service, though he downplayed his own military role, and also thanked the rest of the PCs for their involvement in the earth elemental attack. He said he might have a job for them, given their great skill, their spiritual affiliations, and their growing reputation for opposing malicious agencies.

Three asked if they would be interested, but provided this caveat: The mission involves imparting a state secret of sorts, and he would have to have their agreement in advance that they would accept it—or else he would say no more of it. The only thing he could offer before the decision was made was that it concerned the Dragon Wood—the sizable forest up the river northeast of Galethspyre.


Meanwhile, Magnus asked Lady Amaryllis about his dragonbone mace, since they had talked about this before and the red-eyed eladrin had told him to find her again later. She said there were principally two ways to "unlock" the hidden powers of this weapon—which Magnus himself had recently admitted to his companions was named the Defiler's Dread: (1) She could give him a map to one of two manifest zones where Risia, the Plane of Ice, overlaps with Eberron. One site was in the Graywall Mountains, while the other was in the Starpeaks in Aundair. Alternatively, (2) she could have the weapon sent to her cousin, Lord Syraen of the Winter Citadel—the eladrin feyspire that is stuck within the north woods of Karrnath. A powerful spellcaster and the lord of the feyspire, if anyone on Eberron could coax the magic from the weapon, it would be him. However, Amaryllis warned Magnust that this would require him to agree in advance to pay Lord Syraen whatever it was he required in turn. "It will not," she said, "be gold. It will likely be a service of some kind, and it will not be an option to refuse it." (Aleae shook her head, understanding more than anyone just how risky it is to owe a fey lord any debt.) Even so, Magnus agreed to this and he gave the Defiler's Dread over into the lady's care.


During their conversations, Princess Haydith asked the PCs challenging questions that strayed into uncomfortable political grounds. Three tried to quiet her, but she persisted. In order to distract her from this, Aleae offered to show the young human a glimpse of her homeland in Thelanis. Intrigued, the young princess followed her.

Green dragons typically lair in woodlands.
The PCs briefly discussed Three's offer and finally agreed to it. Three explained the situation.

"The Brelish Crown has an agreement with a dragon named Sorethyress the Viridescent. She is an old green wyrm who has laired in the Dragon Wood since well before the Last War. In the early days, she fed on livestock, and sometimes even farmers and explorers when they crossed paths with her. But Queen Wroann—the first ruler of Breland and King Boranel’s own great-grandmother—negotiated with the green dragon and the two formed a pact.

"The conditions were:
  • Sorethyress was not harm the Brelish people. Invaders, of course, were fair game—and during the course of the Last War, various Brelish military leaders were able to lure enemies into her domain where she presumably slew and devoured them.
  • In turn, loggers were not to cull from the forest any more than was necessary. They could not cut down more trees than they planted. In addition, tribute was given to her once each year: a sum of gold or a magical treasure—often both—which were delivered to the mouth of her cave.


“But Sorethyress has not been heard from in over a year. Last year's tribute remains where it was placed, untouched. The King has become concerned. He asked me to send a small company to investigate the matter. This I did more than a week ago. They have not returned. I am...concerned. Before I request a larger military force approach—which if all is well, the dragon will not respond well to—I am more inclined to send a smaller, professional reconnaissance team."

"The mission is merely one of information. Find out why Sorethyress has not been heard from, why she did not collect her tribute. It is possible she is merely sleeping and all is well, but King Boranel feels uneasy about it. He wishes to investigate the matter."

The pseudodragon that the PCs had spotted more than once also made an appearance at the table. Perching like a cat on the furniture, he appeared and disappeared on a whim. The Carnival Mistress introduced him as Matheurixivilum. Matheu for short. He was known to them and often came and went when the Carnival of Shadows traveled.

Matheu spoke telepathically—and with appropriate arrogance, given his nature—to the PCs. He said he was a sage and a scholar from Argonnessen, and that he insisted on accompanying the PCs on their journey to the Dragon Wood. At this, the Carnival Master and Mistress only shrugged. Matheu was a mysterious friend of theirs, but also a free agent. In truth, no one would know more about dragons than one who is kin to dragons—though it also seemed like he might be a selective sort of sage.

Finally, Lady Amaryllis made an offer to Aleae concerning her own quest. She said that after the 7th of Zaranytr (two days hence), the Carnival would be moving on and would travel next to Wroat, the capital of Breland. There, on behalf of her cousin, the aforementioned Lord Syraen, she would be meeting with emmisaries from Pylas Pyrial (the feyspire in Zilargo) and Shae Jordial (the feyspire under siege in Darguun). It was Amaryllis's understanding that the two feyspires have a plan to test their theories concerning the nature of the grounding of all the feyspires. Amaryllis told Aleae that she would be willing to sponsor her attendance at this meeting—and thereby represent the Rose Queen of Shae Loralyndar—if indeed the PCs carried out the task Three had asked of them.




Thursday, January 30, 2014

#53 - Words and Worms

As told by Magnus of the Island of Seren.


It turns out, we weren’t done.

Kard did some healing on Aleae and left for town. Rendar had tracked us and let us know that all was well with our stuff as he joined us. With the land-sharks dead, Eshka looked about and Cypher asked her about her earth magic. It was impressive to summon not one but two such fearsome beasts from bare earth!

As we walked about, some of us noticed that the earth was rumbling. I climbed up onto a rock wall and scanned the area. All at once this huge purple worm burst from the ground right in the middle of the group and right in front of me. I was wounded and bleeding but a rage came upon me and I mashed into the loathsome wiggler!

The whole party lit into the thing like they had been waiting for it! Spells and weapons tore into the beast, leaving huge wounds and frozen patches up and down its body—most of which wriggled under the earth. It knocked me off the wall and the fight raged on. It bit me and I dodged, then its stinger tail rose up and ran me through the chest like a spear....

When I woke up, Clarion was looking into my face, and the worm was dead. It took a few minutes to figure out that we had won and that in the process, Rendar had been swallowed and then fought his way out, cutting a hole in the worm’s side and sliding out again, covered in slime like a new baby. I wish I had seen that.

The male Stormwalker's mood had changed. Smiling, he helped me up and finally introduced himself as Durshast.

After some healing—my chest looks bad, and I am going to need a new scale or something for the hole in my armor—we moved away from the battle ground and sat down to talk.

The barbarian witch. Eshka—Durshast's sister—was making something out of the poison tail from the worm, a nasty weapon it seems.

It was time to tell my tale:

My tribe on Seren, the Bringers of Fire, is beholden to the red dragon Lucerix. He is old and powerful and wise.  He has visited our tribe many times in the tales and I have even seen him once, as a boy. He gives our tribe wisdom and magic and we give him our loyalty.

In my time, Radavar was our leader. He had instructed me as a boy and often discussed with me his plans and strategies when we raided other tribes. He was given insights into the Draconic Prophecies by Lucerix and I respected his will. Without the dragons to interpret them, the prophecies would seem to men as gibberish and we would lose our way.

We had long been told that the time of the Defiler would come.  That we would be called upon to resist the Defiler’s lies and that we would be tested as the Defiler came to corrupt all dragonkind. Somehow, the great dragons would need us and we could stand for them, if we are worthy
.
This was all I had known. But within this same year, a dark sage named Soloshan came to our tribe and began to say quietly that Lucerix was dead, and that his son Garcerix was his rightful heir. Soon his voice grew louder and some began to follow his ways. In the end, Soloshan and his dupes wrested power from Radavar. He was defeated in the rightful challenge of combat. Rather than kill him—as he would have wanted, for there is honor in death—he was left with us as our chief, but Soloshan truly rules. It is no way to be.



Scenes from the Last War
I was bound to die. There was no way for me to accept Soloshan as my leader, my chief or my king.  I would soon say something either in public or private that would start a fight or a war or simply a killing. Radovar and his loyal friends asked me to leave. I was to go out into the world, where war raged—obvious that the Defiler was behind such widespread chaos. I was to seek knowledge and allies and power that could help me upon my return to Seren. What I would find was not known, what I was to bring, or when, was not known. Radavar trusted me and he trusted the Prophecy to bring an end to the Defiler and his plots. I put myself in the service of his wisdom.

Since leaving, I have met stalwart companions who have fought beside me for reasons I do not understand.  Our paths are entwined by the dragons and I do not know which way to turn. Yet as I look back I can see a pattern, a guidance at work. I have great hope that the mace I now wield was named “the Defiler’s Dread” for a reason.

Is I finished up, I looked around.  The Stormwalkers were slack-jawed. After a few minutes of questions, they told their tale. Eshka did most of the talking.

It seems that their tribe had been duped by Garcerix as well. A woman who looked like one of my tribesmen came to them and told them that the Defiler was at work and that now as the time for all Serens to stand and fight. Acting in the name of Lucerix, the woman and her adviser convinced the Stormwalkers that a great fiend—one of "Khyber's first children"—was stirring: Katashka, the Demon Overlord of Undeath was to awaken from his dragon-induced sleep. The scales would swing and demons, not dragons would rise.
The Stormwalker's greatest warriors were lured away from their tribe on a false errand to meet with the other Seren tribes. Vulnerable in their absence, the Stormwalker village itself was then attacked and nearly wiped out by this woman, her pale, foreign adviser, and Garcerix the red dragon.

They believe that other tribes were treated the same, that Seren now lies in the hands of the foul, honorless Bringers of Fire and the usurper Garcerix.

Eshka cast a small spell of illusion and showed us likenesses of our enemies in the smoke. The woman Xiomara did look like a Seren from afar. I could clearly see that her fire tattoos were demonic, and not at all part of my tribe. The man was revealed and both Rendar and I recognized him—Cypher would, too, had he been himself. It was Avishad, the old wizard who had approached us on the Sky Talon, weeks ago, before turning into a raven and flying away when we rebuffed him.

Avashad
After defeat, the Stormwalkers who survived—Eshka, Durshast, and too few others—fled Seren to find answers for Seren’s troubles on the mainland, because all the foul players in their tale had come from afar. Once they reached the shores of Khorvaire, on the beaches of Q'Barra, they had been found by the House Phiarlan elves and joined up with the Carnival of Shadows. In exchange for their service and entertainment, the elves had done much research about the woman Xomara and found that she was a fiend-worshipping warlord from the Demon Wastes. The Wastes is a land in the northwest corner of this continent, a holdover from the Age of Demons. From what I hear, it may be a more dangerous place than the Mournland, for it has been a scar on Eberron for hundreds of thousands of years.

Xiomar herself hails from the Carrion Tribes, mostly human clans and cannibals who revere fiends. What is she doing outside of that foul land. More importantly, what was she doing in my homeland? Her purposes are most foul.

On discussing the Demon Wastes, Cypher said something like,  “You should travel to the Eldeen, for the people I serve there are also foes to this woman and the Demon hordes.”

Cypher, in the employ of the Eldeen? That makes no sense.

The Demon Wastes lie in the northwest
corner of the continent of Khorvaire, due
north of the Eldeen Reaches.
(Click for a larger view.)
Then it hit me.

“Claviger, is that you?” I asked.

Cypher looked up at me and after a long hesitation, he said, “Yes.”

I blinked. I think everyone did. Eventually, it sort of came out that Claviger was here with us, but bereft of his memories. He certainly fought with more martial grace than Cypher does. I don’t understand, but the group seems to think that somehow the final messenger had more to it than Cypher ever thought.

We decided to make our way back to the city while we puzzled these events and stories out.  Soon enough, we were washed in the river and headed back to the city in a rented fisherman’s boat.

We have a big dinner party tonight, and a meeting with a warforged of some renown in this land.

Perhaps the elf witch—the Mistress of the Carnival who looked more like Aleae than the other elves—can help us understand our fate.

Though, without Cypher, I feel lost.


Sunday, January 19, 2014

#52 - Odd Behavior and Seren Honor

As told by Magnus of the Island of Seren.


Out of jail and the search for the lost stuffed animal abandoned, we returned to our goals in the city. I was really dying to find news from Seren, and I regretted following Cypher and his fool’s errand. I know he hadn’t planned to get us arrested, but his focus on stuffed animals had just cost me my meeting with the Serans.

Luckily, when we returned to the carnival grounds, the Serens had left me a note, unusual for any Seren to write anything. The Carnival Master came to us to tell us that he regretted the Serens’ departure and that they were full of venom for me and my tribe, but that the note was genuine and that there was some bounty they were searching in the farms to the north of the city. Something about...ankhegs.

We set out immediately, thank the Dragon Between! Once out of the city, we could clearly see the tall blue spire that dominated the countryside by the riverside. Aleae seemed to have knowledge and I asked her about it. She took a crystal sphere out and made it light up. She told us to stare into it, Cypher joined me and we could see some sort of alternate plane, where things looked similar, but different from the area around us, yet the same also. She said this was Thelanis, her world, which is also called the Faerie Court. The blue spire was the same in the sphere and here in our world.

I don't understand. Cypher  spent some time walking with me talking about alternate planes of existence and explaining that there are creatures who can travel between these planes. Some dragons can travel also, the eldest and most powerful among them. The spires, I guess, somehow exist in both planes at once. I don’t understand.  Much that interests Cypher eludes me, but he is immensely resourceful and has helped me many times.

We continued walking and at one point, Aleae sent us all a secret voice message that we were being followed. Cypher did not understand that this was secret knowledge, and started walking around searching behind us. The follower seemed to disappear as soon as we started looking.

Then Cypher started acting very strange indeed. It is unlike Cypher to fail to understand anything and as we talked to him, he seemed to lose all knowledge of himself, saying only that he was fine and that we should continue on our mission. I asked about Doongul, and when his boat would arrive (he came on a wagon, this was a little trap I laid for Cypher). Cypher could not remember Doongul or Trug, his goblin companion. Strange.

Cypher was acting like he had been hit on the head. Hard. I’ve seen warriors like this after a battle. I asked him what was the first thing he remembered today and he said that it was Aleae telling us that we were being followed. Bad news!

We immediately stopped to sort this out. Some nearby fishermen were giving us the once-over, I could see that we were not welcome with them. I stood up front and let them know not to approach us, either. Clarion performed a ritual on Cypher and seemed to divine that it was Cypher’s "final messenger" that was the problem, that small machine inserted into his chest. Cypher took it out and stepped away from it, but he still had no memory. He returned the messenger to his chest and we all agreed that we were not going to be able to sort this out right here and right now.

I was really eager to continue going forward and so we all agreed to continue in search of the Seren Stormwalkers. Soon enough, we came to the second jetty and a clear set of tracks headed inland from the river. The Serens had gone this way. I was practically ready to run after them after all this delay. Soon enough, we came to some old stone ruins and then spied the corpses of a few ankhegs, the giant ant-beetle monsters that spit acid all over us way back in Droaam. The Serens had earned their bounty, it seemed.

I shouted out, “I am here and ready to meet with you!” As soon as I yelled, I noticed the female Stormwalker on top of some stone walls with her bow trained on us. The male came out and accused me of falsehood for missing our meeting yesterday. I explained that we were jailed for a fight and some property damage, but were soon found innocent and released.

The crest of Aundair
He said he refused to speak to me further until we had proven ourselves in combat. I agreed. The she-shaman used her magic to summon a monster, we were to fight whatever appeared. She said produced a flat, rune-carved stone and said, "This totem stone was wrought by the dragonspeakers of Worvrelyss the Cerulean Night. It will summon a foe worthy of testing that is native to the land in which it is placed. Survive and defeat the beast and you will prove you are willing to die for honor." Honor and courage is what they required for discussion.

The rest of the party agreed to fight with me, I am lucky to have found such good persons since leaving my home island. We waited in silence for the monster to arrive, the spellcasters each made preparations. Clarion had many spells to cast that seemed to empower us all, including a metal staff that sprouted into a banner that waved the flag of Aundair, which seemed to really inspire him. Soon enough the ground erupted underneath us. A huge, armored land-shark—a bulette—burst up from below, splattering us with rocks and dirt.

We unloaded on the land-shark in a way I have never seen us do before! Mashing, smashing, stabbing, burning, electrocuting, hexing and chopping it very badly before it gathered itself to bite me on the arm. Just as we thought we were finishing it off, a second one pounded up out of the ground, demolishing one of the stone walls and splattering us with stone and earth again.  It was no more than a few seconds before the first one died under my maul.

The new one, perhaps mated to the first, bellowed and pounced on Aleae, who skittered away while the land-shark burrowed out of sight. We then had a few seconds to stare around and wonder what was to happen next, we spread out around the area, knowing it couldn't have fled. These things were maddened.

Cypher, who was fighting brilliantly, tried to take my mace off my back—unusual and not permitted! I shrugged him off just as the second land-shark exploded up out of the ground beneath Cypher and I we were again hammered with rocks and earth. Aleae was ready with a massive onslaught of spells—her elven hands slung magic faster than I'd seen even Xoma to cast! The land-shark was knocked over on its side and I let loose with all the violence I could summon—Clarion's spells of pronounced doom seemed to be adding considerable strength to my arms, and the beast shuddered after I demolished the front of its head. Clarion himself stepped up and finished it off…

I turned to the Serens, wondering, are we done?