#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.

#84 - The Weaver's Shadow

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

A magical darkness enveloped our oni enemy and at the same time a black vapor arose from the tattoos of the Shadow etched into mine and Magnus’s palms. It was the first time these tattoos had ever activated, although I certainly had my suspicions that there was magic involved, likely divine as I could never fully analyze their magical matrix. Zerasha took our basilisk-gaze-stoned bodies from the arena in Graywall and brought us back to animated form, however in the process giving us our palm glyphs.

Unseen beneath the screen of darkness, the oni flew up into the air and beyond most of our reaches. When the darkness subsided, our oni was less protected and Magnus was able to land a fierce blow against his lower half. However the oni looked different than before; his features were slightly different and he was wearing different clothes. Just as I was about to fire upon the creature, he called out to me and Magnus claiming no intention to hurt us. I surmised that there was some relation between the subsiding black vapor about the oni and that from my palm. Stepping between Magnus and his prey, I called out for a parley and it was accepted.

The oni claimed to be Sorrel, a friend of Zerasha and a servant of the Shadow. Through some magical means he did not explain, he was able to switch physical places with his brother Hiraz the Weaver, the oni we against which we had begun this battle. For a short yet indeterminate amount of time Sorrel would remain with us in the ruins, sent as a spy for the Shadow. It was clear he, like the medusa priestess, was a servant of the Sovereign of Magic and Mayhem. Sorrel explained that Zerasha had gathered new intelligence and now sought more; it was only by our presence here that he was able to manifest. His brother, Hiraz, had made Glyphstone Keep, or at least this level of its dungeons, into his lair for some time. But now he had made alliances with our enemies.

Someone asked about the nature of the Hiraz’s slave. Sorrel said he was of no consequence, but I said that we should converse away from the slave, in case he were to reveal our intentions to his master when Hiraz returned. Sorrel admitted this to be an issue and stated his intent to therefore kill the slave but we were able to get him to move to the rug storage room instead. In there he was searching through the rugs; he said he was looking for a magical rug his brother, a skilled weaver, had produced. He was unable to locate the one in question and did not explain what it was for.

We spoke with him further and Sorrel then told us of news from Zerasha. She had communed with The Dark One and learned that Avashad had placed here Governor Trazzen, the vampire lord who had hounded us since his appearance in the Graywall arena, giving him full authority over Glyphstone Keep. Avashad had, at least in Droaam, presented himself openly as a rakshasa, a terrible sign since his ancient kind tended toward subterfuge and shapeshifting as a rule. Magnus and Clarion described to Sorrel our interaction with Lucerix and Avashad, much to Sorrel’s interest. Zerasha, he said, believed that Avashad had acquired an ancient device—possibly here in Glyphstone Keep and of Dhakaani design—that he intends to use against the great nation of Breland to some horrible end. However the artifact’s destructive power is only meant as a distraction, there is some greater game being played. Nonetheless, I vow to myself to destroy this device at all costs, Long Live His Holiness King Boranel.

We searched the next room with Sorrel, a tapestry room with several fine tapestries hanging from the walls. Likewise, war banners were displayed on tables in the center of the room. Each of the banners depicted a different version of the same beautiful harpy, slaying her foes with her deadly voice or rending claws. Sorrel named the harpy as Callain of the Bloody Word, ruler of a clan of notorious harpies from the Byeshk Mountains and one of the few that did not pay tribute to the hags that govern Droaam.

The tapestries on the wall were of more subtle design. But I noticed in particular two of them that depicted humanoid figures that interested me for some reason—a young human in the uniform of an Emerald Claw knight and another human wearing cold weather gear. I touched the second tapestry and detected a strong magical emanation; I also noticed the human in the banner bore many tattoos that immediately reminded me of Magnus’s but they were white instead of red. I told Magnus to look at it and he recognized the man as a Seren. He turned away after a warning from Sorrel to not look upon the tapestry for too long or Magnus would switch places with the man! For indeed real men were trapped inside the tapestry's magical threads. Extradimensional magic!

We decided to attempt to retrieve the Seren human from the tapestry and Sorrel dragged in the slave to swap with the Seren. Magnus, Aleae, and Kard were very uncomfortable with forcing him to do this, but we promised to take the tapestry back with us and return the man to Fairhaven, the capital of Aundair, where his family was. Although Kard was particularly against this course of action, Sorrel was much in favor, and stated that if the man did not submit to this, he would slay him. Kard, perhaps because he is duty-bound to a religious order, once again spoke in the man's defense, allowing for neither the death or the imprisonment of the man.

In fact, this would be the only means of rescuing him from the chains of his bondage. At last, after Kard vowed to liberate the man afterwards, the slave gave consent. He thanked Kard, then stared into the tapestry. Within a minute's time he was transposed with a short, dense and lean-muscled human with reddish-dark skin and white tattoos covering his body. Sahlessh, the white-painted Seren, likewise had white hair and a narrow tied beard. He was not very forthcoming with information. Magnus talked with him and made common references but Sahlessh was cautious to not divulge too much and he seemed especially distrusting of Magnus!

We determined that he was a monk from a tribe on Seren with an affinity for the cold-breathing white dragon and that he had been trapped in the tapestry almost a year ago by Hiraz.

Sahlessh asked us a lot of questions but he followed along as we went to clear out the rest of the rooms on this floor. Sorrel and Sahlessh spoke briefly beyond our hearing, then the oni left us to investigate deeper levels of the structure but not before telling us about a carpet that his brother was rumored to have made. Woven into the carpet was a teleportation circle that allowed swift passage between Glyphstone Keep—here, well within Breland's borders—and the Tower of Shrouds in Droaam. That I cannot abide, especially if the Avashad had allied himself with harpies and who knew what else!

We continued our exploration. As Aleae, Clarion, and Kard studied the pool and glowing chalice in the vast central chamber, in one of the rooms on the north side, I found a writing desk and noticed indentations in the papers stacked there had been used for notetaking. I grabbed some ash from a room that was completely burned of any evidence and used my expended griffon feather to dust the indentations for information. This yielded the words “Children of Winter” and “Frost,” the latter as a proper noun.

As I finished gathering evidence in the writing room, I heard the telltale shout of impending battle from outside the room. Sahlessh was calling out. I quickly tucked the remaining ash and feather into one of my many pockets and readied my magical whip, the Tongue of Hrasta, for battle.

#83 - Enter the Weaver

As told by Magnus of the Island of Seren.

We were safe and confined in a clean space but we weren’t clean. The smell from the globs and smears of the ghouls’ blood and flesh, still caked on our armor, was just awful. It kept me awake for a few minutes, listening to Irakas and Cypher talk and make a map of our floor here underground. Her time sitting in the throne and wearing the Emperor’s Key medallion had given her awareness of this level’s dimensions. I scraped the smelliest bits off me and then drifted off to sleep to the sound of Cypher unpacking and re-packing all his stuff.

When we woke up, hours later, again we had improved in our manifestation of the dragon in each of us, new spells and new abilities.  I am feeling more durable than ever. The smell from the undead slime on us all was overpowering and we were all ready to leave. Except Irakas.

She wanted to stay near the throne and study the “altar” here. When we asked for the Emperor’s Key back, she suggested that she would like to stay here, with the Key and her guards and try to learn more about the keep. She even suggested that if we were to find the scepter that once filled the empty brackets on the altar, her knowledge and power here might grow. The awful smell kept the conversation short.  It might be useful to have the Key with us to open doors and stuff, but having her here, learning more and guarding the one safe place we have found would be better still.  She escorted us past the bronze golem and there we discovered some skeletons and a corpse (obviously killed by the golem) lying in a puddle of blood before it.  Someone had come looking for us and died. The corpse had been a living man, and had been cut in half by the golem’s glaive.

In looking at the corpse, we noticed that he was a member of the Emerald Claw, a mercenary group dedicated to its own (evil) purposes. What are they doing down here? As Simel drew in for a closer look and lifted the body to examine it, we all noticed that the inside of Simel’s reversible cloak was the same color as the Emerald Claw’s green uniform.  He said he used it as a disguise to kill Claw members in the past. We still do not know much of his story. He seems to look forward to killing members of the Claw here underground. We agree on that at least.

We left Irakas and made our way to the curtain, feeling very exposed here in the giant throne room.  We sidled along the edge and up to the massive curtain where Cypher sent Rungo up to the ceiling to scout ahead. As he cleared the room/ hallway beyond the curtain, we followed along.  As we made our way, and approached the wall of rooms, we heard music coming from the weaver’s room—the room where the chained man had been. Using “stealth” (as we understand it), we entered the rug room and then Kard opened the weaving room to see what was going on. The chained man pointedly ignored him. The whole group entered and Cypher unlocked a few more doors.

Not all onis look the same, but most are big,
blue/purple, and carry massive swords.

As the group went over the room again, I lied down on the bed (why didn’t we sleep here?), it did seem like someone slept here recently. Kard suggested I look around and I peeked under the bed. Seeing a spear, I grabbed it but it sprouted spikes.  I dropped it and let the group have a look. Soon enough I poke it back under the bed as we are deciding to leave.

I head out into the hallway with Cypher.  I hear Aleae talking about the jar she had seen in the chest full of cloth, and she started to rummaging about for it. Just then a new voice speaks. “There is no need for violence,” I heard it say after something else. I spared a peek into the room and see a silk-clad oni with fangs and flowing garments, and a very larger curving sword. A large, shimmering white-clear hand had appeared and wrapped itself around Aleae, holding her in place. Threatening to squeeze. She did not like that! Kard tried to negotiate with the oni, whose spell, he assured us, could snap her bones easily. The oni spoke as though this was his home and we had trespassed. Aleae started scolding him about keeping a creature (the human) chained.  The oni asked the party to drop their weapons as were obviously the group that has been killing and making messes all around here.  The party refuses and the oni raised scimitar to strike. Aleae was bound to be crushed by the conjured, disembodied hand.

The battle began just as Cypher and I heard, then saw some creatures headed our way down the hall. Cypher called Dar for light and Rungo reported some kind of beaked creature walking towards us. The creatures were lit up by my torch as they got closer and Dar casted her entangling vines spell on the two large creatures. They had shelled backs like giant beetles and huge sweeping blades built into their arms where hands should have been.  I don’t know what they were but they didn’t quite seem like the abominations we have fought. No tentacles or slime. But they were something new to kill!

While the rest of the party was dealing with the oni—lots of spells going off, and Aleae somehow just magically stepped from inside the closing fist to a space fifteen feet away—I charged the two beaked creatures and landed a jumping smash on the one that was not held in vines.  Flames and ice flashed brightly as I took on the aspect of greatest of dragons!  It withstood my two blows from Defiler’s Bane but will still rather pulped.  Rungo, Dar, and Cypher rushed in to help kill it.

After some more fighting, the oni flew out into the hallway and blasted Cypher and Dar with a lightning bolt. Both avoided the worst of it. One of the hooked, beaked things died and we turned on the other. Having foughtan oni in the arenas of Droaam, I knew that its spells will make it very hard to kill.  I intended to try.

Then a black, misty darkness began to envelop the oni, and I felt an unpleasant sensation in the palm of my hand.

#82 - The Glyphstone Throne

The elf-vampire-witch was a frozen paste on the wall. There were desiccated corpses loping our way and I moved over to smash one, and Rungo joined me. And then another. 

The fight was moving quickly and, I thought, nearly over. We were all retching and gagging from the smell of rot coming from the ghouls. Suddenly, behind us, Dar was attacked by the regenerating corpse of the elf thing. Pasting her wasn't enough, it seemed, and so the druid had blood sucked out of her shoulder. I moved over and mauled it once again, freezing it to the giant black curtain that hung on one side of this wide corridor. Seeing the ghouls were being dealt with, I tore her pasted-again corpse and headed back into the rug room. If mashing and freezing wouldn't kill her, maybe a big fire would. I know fire stops trolls from regenerating.

I walked into the room and threw her corpse on a pile of rugs. I splashed some oil on the body and then got ready to leave by pulling Aleae’s silver arrow and grabbing a useful everburning torch from the wall (not hot, just light). As I crouched down to strike some sparks into the oil, Clarion entered and interrupted me. He advised that he thought beheading would stop her visible re-growth. This was fine by me. He chopped off her head and doused the thing with holy water. The flesh and hair melted from the skull completely, and the ruin of her body stopped regenerating. He offered the elf-vampire skull to me and I accepted. He and I thought that this must me some kind of servant vampire since she seemed to lack all the vampiric powers we have seen at least once before. I hope that she is a servant of the hobgoblin vampire from Palurr Draal and that he will be sad when I stuff the skull up his nose.

Back in the hallway, we decided that we should go beneath the curtain to the throne room with ideas about using the Emperor’s Key to help with the big metal statue that Aleae had told us about. And maybe could access a place to hide. When we went under, we found ourselves in the largest chamber I have ever been in. Well, perhaps only the second largest. There was one that might have been greater that Cypher and I have been to.

A ziggurat and its throne dominated the far side of the room, which must have spanned three hundred feet from side to side. Dim purple lights in the corners gave us just enough to see our way around. The statue standing at the base of the steps at the throne was tall, bronze, and dangerous-looking if it really did move. Big stands on both sides of the chamber suggested this room could have also been an arena once.

We were thinking of seeking shelter behind one of the large stands, in hopes of resting undiscovered, but Irakas was once again worried about the messes we were leaving behind (we do often do that) and how it would make our enemies seek us out all the more. However, the she-hobgoblin did have one idea we found intriguing: According to her lore, whoever commands the throne of a goblin fortress also commands knowledge of the fortress itself. She believed that if one of us were to ascend the stairs and sit upon the throne, using the Emperor's Key. (We casually refer to it as such, but to newcomers like Simel and Dar, they see us discussing a bronze medallion.)

Immediately, Cypher volunteered. 

Irakas said he needed to go with confidence to convince the magic that he was the rightful ruler of this place and had the right to command the power of the Key. Irakas offered to do it, but Clarion also offered to be the one. Won’t the magic know that they are constructs?  They are not hobgoblins, as the rulers of Glyphstone once were. We have used it in the past, though. Cypher would do that now.

Cypher walked up the statue, which moved into a defensive position.  He commanded it to “Stand down.”  It made no move.  Cypher made his past it, climbed the steps, and sat upon the Dhakaani throne. Nothing seemed to happen and he returned shortly afterwards. If nothing else, the Emperor's Key protects the wearer from the golem, but it does not seem to allow us to command it.

In the meantime, we have gotten too close to the statue and it had advanced upon us with its massive glaive held up to strike. We backed up. Seeing Cypher return, Irakas once again suggested that she would be the one to use the Emperor's Key.  We had second thoughts. But somehow, to me, she seemed in earnest. She has been very clear that she believes that she should return the Key to the “rightful” owners (hobgoblins).

This may be her quest just as the rescue of Seren is mine. The Key came to us seemingly accidentally and we have kept it from dark forces. It may be time to let it go. Irakas may be a more rightful keeper than we are, she has the most legitimate claim (she is a hobgoblin given the task).

Maybe she will restore order to this abandoned keep, overrun with dark beings. Maybe she is the rightful one. I am not planning to spend my life restoring this keep, but certainly the world would benefit if it was. I let the party know that I think she should have it.  It seemed that others have similar thoughts and, for the first time since we rescued the Key, we turned it over to another. Irakas accepted it slowly and thanked Cypher for the trust. Her two remaining guards were immediately more content to see it in her possession. 

The Emperor's Key

The dirge singer placed it around her shoulders and walked past the bronze golem, up to the throne, and sat down. I didn't know what happened up there but she appeared to look around the chamber as if we weren't there, as if she was looking at a different place or time. While we were standing dumbly at the golem's feet, some of us heard noises of marching and troops. Clarion messages the information about the party with his magic. We were in no condition to fight anything like soldiers.

Clarion then messages Irakas and she seemed to notice us again. She pointed to a corner at the base of the ziggurat itself and we all met there. As she arrived, she pushed on an unseen panel in the wall and a secret door is revealed. We entered, closed the door and Irakas lead us to a hall and a chamber situated directly beneath the throne.

“We are safe here," she said. "We can rest.” There are no beds, but I am ready to sleep anywhere. The floor welcomed me as I hear Cypher digging into his pack, looking for paper and ink to write down and sketch whatever it is that the hobgoblin woman learned.

#81 - The Trappings of the Weaver

After disabling the undead beholder and its minions, Aleae, Clarion, and I walked over to the pool in the center of the large expanse. In the center of the 80-foot-diameter pool was a platform with a large metal chalice atop. The chalice was glowing with magical light, the color changing periodically. As we got closer, I could tell that this chalice was quite large, possibly troll- or ogre-sized; to those of us who drink it would be more like a trophy than a useable drinking vessel. Clarion determined that the entire pool was a desecrated area—"unholy" in some respect—and by the look of the putrid, green-hued, tepid water I believed him.

Aleae and I were working out a plan to retrieve the chalice for further study that did not involve our having to enter the pool when Magnus flashed his lantern at us, indicating that he and Dar had discovered something in a room closer to where we entered this expansive room, this Chamber of Offering (as Irakas called it). He was clearly insistent so we made haste to the room. Dar said she heard something inside and the rattling of metal, possibly chain. I carefully picked the lock on the door, taking extra care not to make any sound.  Magnus rushed in to the room.

The room seemed to be both a bed chamber and weaver’s workshop. In the center of the room was a round table covered with swatches of colored cloth. In the corner was a huge, four-poster bed with grand red satin sheets, large enough for an ogre or the like. There was a loom and spindle and lots of raw materials for making fabrics. And attached to the table via heavy chain (non-magical, I would soon find out) was a human male. Interestingly, I noticed the human was garbed in rather expensive looking clothing that would normally have signified to me his association with the nobility of Aundair, had I met him anywhere else in the Five Nations. The clothing was a bit tattered to be sure, but undoubtedly Aundairian design. In a Draconic whisper I asked Clarion if he thought he could establish a rapport with the Aundairian, who looked significantly shocked and overwhelmed by our party of eleven. Clarion attempted to engage the man, being sure to expose his religious and Aundairian symbols, but with little effect. Possibly the man was too traumatized by his initial interaction, which was with Magnus who for some reason had simply walked into the room, mace in hand, and started gesturing at the human without speaking any words.

Magnus also spent an inordinate amount of time stealing glances at the large bed in the corner. For a human so driven to movement and violence, he is extremely fond of sleep.

Finally, Kard approached the man with words of compassion and understanding. Kard explained—rather well, I thought—to the man that we were not interested in hurting him and in fact would like to help him if we could. The Aundairian spoke back very deliberately and in a partially whispered voice in the Common tongue. He would not say his name when asked and was very distressed by our presence. He wasn’t very forthcoming with information but not, I guessed, by preference. I was able to discern only that he was somehow ensorcelled and if he were to reveal any information about himself or his captor, the captor in question would know of it immediately—and return.

Soon Irakas shuffled into the room abruptly and closed the door. "Something comes!" she has warned us. I picked the lock on one of the room's other doors which led to a torch-lit storage room full of elaborate carpets. We moved into that room, promising to come back for the captive Aundairian at another time. Temporarily quelling the magical lights, the hobgoblins peered out the northern door, for it looked back into the Chamber of Offering.

Irakas, with her darkvision, reported seeing a carrion crawler guided by a few smaller humanoids. Magnus and I had less-than-fond memories of the large, wormlike creatures not so long ago. The Seren especially, for he had been paralyzed by their mouth-tendrils in the past.

"Goblins?" she whispered, clearly disturbed by the idea that kindred members of her own race could be allied with our enemies. "But no, something is wrong with them." She would not say what. She only concluded with, "They are cleaning up." Then we closed the door to remain hidden.

After much discussion, we decided to attempt to rest in the carpet room. Almost completely devoid of magic and most of us in need of repair we were running out of options. I spiked the doors and inspected each lock to ensure that I could unlock them quickly if needed. The spikes would ensure us precious seconds should someone come and unlock one of the three doors in the room.

We were able to rest for over an hour, allowing some time for repairs, before an unknown party of creatures arrived outside one of the doors. When it was clear that we were found out, by one of the creatures exclaiming, “I smell living flesh!" I unlocked the door on the opposite side of the room, removed the iron spike, and Magnus rushed out of the room. Into a trap.

A slender but clearly undead elven woman sneaked up on Magnus and routed him with her unnatural claws. She even latched onto Kard and bit into his shoulder with her fangs. The vampiric elf proved to be a very sturdy opponent, but we were able to destroy her as a group. To be sure of her demise, I instructed Rungo to tear her corpus apart where it had been smashed, burnt, and frozen to the wall by Magnus's administrations. Kard had also doused her with holy water and that has so far proven an effective melter of undead flesh.

It was good that we destroyed her, because coming around the corner were more unknown enemies. Dar summoned an overgrowth of weeds and brambles to slow down the oncoming attackers.  And the battle continued.

#80 - The Chamber of Offering

Craving rest and healing, the PCs deliberated as to the next course of action: break through the thin wall of stone and attempt to conceal themselves there or seek safety elsewhere. Irakas only one partial solution but preferred to save it for another time when the party was deeper in the dungeons of Glyphstone: she possessed a small glass sphere which could replicate the Leomund’s Tiny Hut spell. While it could ensure the safety of nine individuals (there were 11 total),  the extradimensional dome it would conjure would not necessarily be concealed. It could be discovered.

Irakas was most worried that the group would be discovered if they didn’t find shelter soon: it had only been a short while since they slew the guardians at the entrance and their enemies would discover this.

Dar used her druidic magic to change into the shape of a small spider. She crawled through the hole in the stone wall to examine the space beyond. Another door lay behind it, and beyond that a circular, mostly-featureless chamber that contained only nine round depressions in the floor. When she entered the room in her human form, she felt a strange humming energy in the air. It was ultimately decided that this chamber wasn’t worth the risk entering.

A new plan was hatched. Dar once again used her druidic magic to bestow great stealth upon all of her allies, so long as they remained close to her (30 feet). Meanwhile, Aleae used a spell of invisibility to run reconnaissance alone. Given that a nearby room was occupied by undead creatures (according to Clarion), the PCs finally decided to seek safety somewhere beyond the vast central chamber lit by the fountain and chalice.

So Aleae went out into the dark, quieted and concealed with the assistance of an infusion placed on her garments by Cypher. Despite their earlier “disagreement,” the eladrin and the warforged still had a common goal of survival, perhaps even triumph.

Aleae explored the vast hall, discovering strange features and a large number of doors along its perimeter. She also discovered that a second, possibly even larger room lay further to the south beyond a great curtain—a throne room, occupied only by a towering statue of bronze-colored metal carved to resemble a Dhakaani hobgoblin warrior.

She also discovered what at present was patrolling these chambers: a decrepit beholder (larger than the previous one) trailed by three shambling human corpses. She evaded it for a time, but the beholder caught her scene and began to glide after her. The other PCs were closer now and detected the threat. Lit only by the dim glow of the color-shifting chalice at the center of the Chamber of Offering, a battle ensued.

Aleae blasted the floating abomination with powerful winds from her Wand of Wonder, while arrows and javelins were hefted at the enemy. The beholder, once illuminated by magical light (in the form of Rungo, bespelled with Cypher’s magic), turned out to be dead: or undead, as it were. Its large central eye was all but gone, ruined and withered, while most of its eyestalks were broken or shorn away. Yet the creature had some vestige of its power in life, and used a few remaining eyestalks to lay enemies low with deadly rays. Magnus was stricken by magical fear, while paralysis took hold of Cypher. Dar was narrowly avoid a ray of disintegration.

The zombies proved tougher than they looked, absorbing blow after blow and arrow after arrow. Clarion and Kard put their holy water to good use—the zombies were burned like acid by its touch. Despite his fear of the undead beholder, Magnus managed to lob a few javelins into its dead eye. Kard boldly ran up to it, flinging his holy water into the ruined orifice and creating a virtual cloud of foul evaporating dead flesh.

At last, the creature tumbled to the ground, and the zombies were pulped on the floor in the Chamber of Offering.