#100 - Partisanship and Regret

Storrgrim, the frost giant jarl (spirit)
inhabiting the Defiler's Bane (mace)

As told by Magnus of the Island of Seren.

I stood paralyzed.  I couldn’t move, which is something I hate (but have strangely been growing accustomed to). It seems that with all the magic in our midst these days, I am becoming more and more useless. On Seren, I had a purpose and my abilities were keeping pace with my desires. Lately, I spend my time frozen, paralyzed, held, blinded, blasted, snared, burned, unconscious, or unable to reach the foes we face. I feel like I haven’t landed one decent mash with my mace in days.

Storrgrim is watching me fail. This is not why I left Seren. My friends lead me astray, but I could never survive any of it without them. There are too many loops in the vine. I cannot see either end of the tale.

The strangest fight I can remember had unfolded in the chamber below: a wall of cheese, ice storms, fireballs, unicorns, new allies, and desperate measures. To top it all off, while I stood immobile and stricken by a serpent-flung spell, useless and bleeding and paralyzed at the end of the fight, the summoned unicorn came and healed me and wandered off. The party was regrouping, sorting through coins and smelling the cheese. Eventually, I shook off the numbness from my limbs and sat on the small ledge to start sewing myself back into some kind of fighting trim. But why?

The newcomer walked into view, a tough looking human with a very long weapon. It was a spear of considerable length, which I later heard was specifically called a partisan. This would not have been a practical weapon in the jungles of Seren.

She called herself Win. Win? With that obviously magic weapon, I bet she wins a lot. Storrgrim took note and I could feel his desire to stay near that weapon. Perhaps he wishes to change the owner of the mace. I feel unworthy.

I said my greeting to Win—rather, Wynn—and it slowly dawned on me that she was from Karrnath, a cold, northern realm I have only heard my companions speak of. Simel is a Karrn as well. Perhaps they will have much to talk about.

Then the unicorn vanished. More senseless magic. Does it make sense to Aleae, I wonder?

Clarion had heard the commotion and he walked into the vaulted chamber. He went about healing us and began his usual silent, magical chatter with Aleae. With my body ready for some more adventure, I hopped down from the balcony edge and said hello again, introducing Wynn to him. Clarion was not very interested at first, but after he secured the room he quite suddenly took interest in her—or at least her weapon. I'm not sure I have ever seen a warforged become so agitated without moving much. He interrogated her about it and expressed some strange familiarity with it. Where did she get it? From her family. I didn't quite follow the full exchange, but eventually Clarion grew calm and turned away again.

I started to remind everyone about our pressing current mission, to talk to the angel and then to kill the vampire, Governor Trazzen. After some discussion of the weight of a bag of coins, we headed back to the angel's hallway from which we had branched off.

Here Cypher and Aleae noticed a figure behind us standing in the darkness, back by the dark shaft we had descended. Cypher called out and we saw our old traveling companion Halbazar! He was much changed—no longer stout and warm, but pale and gaunt. Wynn even named him as being clearly undead.

I recall him trapped in the mirror under the Dhakaani keep, and then Rendar freeing him, and us bringing his very altered (and somewhat treacherous) self to the halfling house of healing in Droaam. It was there that Trazzen the vampire took him, killing almost all who were in that place. Before me very stood a servant of Trazzen, in the altered body of Halbazar. I told him I was here to kill Trazzen and he told me that it was not possible, that I would lose. I have heard that before, but my wounds keep healing so I continue on.

Halbazar offered to escort us to see the governor, for the governor had an offer for us, some terms of surrender maybe. As Halbazar put it, we could save our lives by joining Trazzen. Not likely. I will fight that vampire, I will attack his magical cunning with my simple strength and dragon-bone mace. I may lose and then he may take me and use me the way he took Halbazar and put him to foul purpose.  Those are my terms. I said so and he spoke slander against the dragons. Wisely, then, Halbazar left us, assuring us the next time we met it would not be under peaceful circumstances.

I later wondered how he knew where to find us. It may be that the undead ogre and minotaurs who came after us earlier made too much noise. Or perhaps they had been missed.

We set up marching down the too-smooth tunnel. After a time, we came to a strange wall of glass clouded by frozen gray mist. There was door in the middle with no handle. When Cypher touched the door to examine it, it sank into the mist. We debated what to do. Clarion ignored the discussion and simply stepped through the door. The door closed behind him and we lost sight of him altogether. We could only watch as the frozen gray mist in the room beyond the wall rolled back, revealing an outdoor scene:

A battle had taken place, but it was over now. Clarion, much "younger" and more beat-up-looking,  and lacking any religious icons on his armor, mercilessly killed a surrendering soldier and then dismembered him. We watched in horror as the gentle Clarion used his weapons to de-flesh the bones, used them to attempt to make music or percussive sounds, and then in the last he tried quite unsuccessfully to re-assemble the corpse. Then the vision faded.

Resolved to shame, I stepped through the door with no discussion. While unhindered, I found my mind troubled with something, a regret I have tried to dismiss for the better part of a year now. Around me the room was obscured but I eventually passed from it to emerge into another hall. I found Clarion there, his normal polished self, standing, looking quietly back. I don’t know what he saw in the misty window; as I watched the others follow, one by one, I can only conclude that he—that they—viewed a moment of shame in my past. 

Thankfully he said nothing.

One by one the group passed through the clouded gray chamber to join us, and each was shown to be a horrible vicious person with little regard for the dragon-granted livesof others. 

We watched as Cypher, likewise "younger" and carrying far fewer possessions, climbed into a building in some city. Shortly after he departed, the building exploded in fire, and there were helpless people inside. I saw there was a young girl within.


Within a forest, Simel, in the natural changeling form we have seldom seen, tortured a man. A warrior, perhaps, but helpless and defeated, unable to defend himself honorably. It was not brief.

In another forest, with taller trees and more vibrant plant life such as I have not seen even on Seren Island, Aleae—or rather, a much, much younger Aleae (decades ago, centuries?)—used her powerful wild magic to destroy what seemed to be a sister or cousin during what I took to be a harmless squabble. Then she marked her face and arms to seem like she had been in a real battle. 

I turned away as Wynn came through, she deserves her privacy. I wish I had done the same for my friends. We do not know Wynn at all, the good or the bad. But the others chose to watch her past unfold.

We assembled on the other side of the misty wall, each aware that the rest had seen us at our worst.

This is hardly the way to meet an angel.

#99 - Two-Headed and Serpentine Trouble

With the use of the Immovable Rod, rope, and Clarion's considerable weight, the group descended the shaft down and then out again into another passage (the shaft itself seemed to disappear into an abyss). Shortly down the next tunnel—which bore the same too-straight, too-smooth walls of the previous one—the party came across the pick-clean remains of umber hulk carapaces and a broken tunnel, likely burrowed by the same creatures, running almost perpendicular.

Sahlessh took off running down the burrow-tunnel when he heard the sound of a woman scream issue in that direction. "Saralith!" he exclaimed.

The group followed, slower than the Seren monk, while Clarion remained behind to stand guard. Aleae had briefly glimpsed a figure following the group; there was a need for watchful eyes.

Through a series of irregular tunnels the rest of the party ventured, coming at last into a goblin-carved chamber with a high balcony accessed by stairs across a pit. The design of the hall was becoming familiar, for Magnus and Cypher both passed through Dhakaani ruins even before Glyphstone Keep. A mound of gold and copper coins—easily several thousand—lay in the center of the chamber before the stairs up. As they began to examine the room, they were set upon by monsters!

The Journal of Wynn Dennavar

Zarantyr, 999 YK, part two

The day continued to get stranger from there.

As much as I wanted to fully investigate exactly where in Glyphstone Keep the teleportation rune had taken me, I had not come prepared for an extended stay underground. My options were limited. I had no desire to fight my way through the rock-worm nest, and had already taken wounds fending them off. Nor did I want to attempt to navigate the gaping pit, all the more so after glimpsing an unidentifiable quadruped and hearing its hooves against the stone. I chose to progress upward, towards the surface, and quickly before the rock worms reemerged.

The shaft continued up beyond the range of my light, but I reached a tunnel after fifteen feet of hard climbing. The walls, like the floor, had clearly been sculpted with magic. No rock I have seen has ever been so seamless and smooth.

I heard noise from deeper in the tunnel. Voices, loud but garbled beyond recognition. At the time it gave me hope that the surface might not be far away. This tunnel was shorter than the others, so I hooked my lantern to my belt and held the Fang parallel to the ground in order to advance.

Before I had gone more than a few steps, the voices heightened in pitch, and the sounds of battle began: running feet, weapons hitting flesh, and thunderous magic.

I had been moving too quickly. The floor abruptly dropped out from under my feet, becoming a steep chute. I fell, losing dozens of feet in elevation every second and heading directly for the source of the noises.

Somehow, I maintained my footing when I shot out into a wide corner. To my left, a short empty hall that turned out of sight. Ahead, pools of blood on the floor and walls, and the silhouette of a humanoid. Beyond him, something misshapen and monstrous. From what I later learned was happening around the corner, it was the most peaceful place I could have entered the battlefield. At the time, however, confusion and wariness kept me from venturing towards the noise, which came from every direction but back up the impossibly steep chute.

The humanoid—who I later knew as a Karrn named Simel—had to have heard my arrival, but was preoccupied. His attacker, a large purple snakelike creature, darted towards him and sank its fangs into his armor, tearing through the leather. Given the choice between targets, it was obvious I would throw in with the creature possessing legs and lacking long, poison-dripping fangs. I loosed a bolt from my crossbow, but missed.

The familiar sight of an exploding a fireball in the room beyond nearly blinded me, and scorched my bolt to cinders before it hit the ground. My caution in hanging back probably saved my life, for fireballs know neither friend nor foe, and I doubted my appearance would have convinced the caster to alter its placement.

At that point the serpent—whose face was disturbingly human-like in all the wrong ways—struck again, Simel collapsed, and the beast spat acidic venom at me. I ducked, and heard it sear the stone behind me. It fled around the corner and out of sight.

For a foolish moment I felt safe. Then my nose and ears caught up to my eyes. I was overwhelmed by a sickening stench, and heard massive stomping feet approaching my position. What I could only call an orcish giant lumbered into sight through the disappearing wisps of fire. It was unlike any other ogre I had encountered: it was far large, it had two malformed heads, was caked from head to toe in layers of cracked, blackened filth, the source of the stench. One head bled profusely, the other grinned madly. Both sets of eyes locked on us.

I advanced to meet it, moving around the fallen Simel. At that moment I first glimpsed the room beyond my corner.

*     *     *

The following description is reconstructed from my memories of the event and brief descriptions from the others involved. While I admit to the possibility of introducing errors in placement and timing, I assure the reader that the less-believable aspects of the following are in reality the most accurately portrayed.

The battlefield was an expansive chamber ringed by a balcony. I stood between the top of wide stairs and a stretch of narrow balcony positioned over a deep pit. A large man raining blood—mostly his own, and practically the only covering he wore—stood frozen on the balcony, mace clutched in a death-grip. Nearby and below, a canine-shaped homonculus crouched sideways, spider-like, on the wall. Beyond her—as I came to learn, the homonculus is referred to as female—a smaller-sized warforged of the trapsetting kind favored by the Brelish reloaded his arm crossbow. I had missed the shot he took, but he crouched close to the wall with the stance of a creature that’s—whose—desperation at the course of the battle prompted enough bravery to step out of the shadows.

There was also—and remember my caveat above, as I assure the reader that I took time after the battle to ascertain the truth of the words I write—a ten-foot high wall of densely-packed cheese cordoned off a section of the lower chamber.

There is little more to say about it, except that it was without a doubt real, and did nothing to improve the chamber’s stench.

In the rear of the chamber beyond the wall of cheese, the elf that had conjured it was dwarfed in the shadow of a massive, pearl-white unicorn.

*     *     *

From my new position I spotted the deer-like creature, trailing of blood down the stairs, and several more snakes. Despite the injuries on the ruminant beast—in truth, calling the oily, hideous thing a deer would be an insult to deerkind—the fight did not appear to be going well for my would-be allies. They fought utterly without discernible leadership or coordination, operating on raw firepower and determination. That alone would have made the following weeks a severe adjustment for me, but in the grand scheme it became the least of my worries.

Then, the unicorn burst into motion. This was no battlefield illusion. Its hoofbeats rang like bronze on the stone, the yellow torchlight somehow not marring the perfect whiteness of its coat. Its enraged snorts were the only mundane thing about it, yet the most convincing feature of its authenticity. It gored the deer-like creature, finishing it off, then charged up the stairs, and attacked the giant. The hooves beat ineffectually against the filth-caked hide, but the animal's spiral horn sank deep into its flesh.

I had miscalculated my positioning to the two-headed giant, not expecting its heads to grant it coordination enough to swing its arms independently. It barely missed me, but struck the unconscious Simel on the ground. The blow from the weapon jolted him awake despite the serpent's poison, and as he scrambled to his feet I noticed the Karrnathi emblem he wore—a welcome sight after the nearly three weeks since I had left my homeland.

I didn’t get a second chance to strike at the giant. There was another mercurial spell, and this time my ears caught the telltale crackling sound that warned me to shut my eyes against the flash. But it wasn't fire and light: When I opened my eyes again, an orb of thunderous force slammed into the creature and set it off balance.
Simel, in impressively close quarters, sank a peculiar black arrow into one of the giant's four eyes and it toppled at last into the abyss from which, I later learned, it had first climbed.

I pursued the serpent that had spat at me, gave and received in the scuffle, until it vanished into a swirl of mist. These serpents were spellcasters.

With the giant gone, the unicorn rounded the balcony corner directly towards me. Acting more on instinct than logic, I pressed myself against the wall, and it flew past me without a sideways glance. Even the homonculus that had moved up to defend the paralyzed barbarian yielded before it. The creature clattered to a halt in front of the man, lowered its radiant head, and touched its horn to the center of his chest with surprising gentleness. The barbarian remained frozen stiff, but blood ceased to leak from his wounds.

Then, for the briefest moment, the chamber was quiet.

#98 - Tunnel Heat

From the Analects of Simel, veteran of Karrnath

Usually at any crossroads a debate would ensue, but the unexpected and vicious attack by the cave dwellers left us open to the first suggestion to leave. Magnus voted to further investigate the upper

tunnel and none demurred. Once we attained the perch, the iron defender Rungo again acted as our scout and a circular room with a doomed ceiling was discover at some distance down the hewn corridor. An exit from the room lay opposite the entrance as well as two circular indentations at right angles to the entrance that mirrored its appearance—but contained only rock walls. Cypher led an investigation of the circular carvings as we all believed them to be hidden doorways, but no mechanism or marking could be discovered and they they seemed as solid as the rest of the room.

I had hung back listening for any sounds coming from behind us as I felt others of our party were far better equipped to solve such riddles, when I heard rapidly approaching footfalls echoing in the cavern we had left behind. I sounded the alarm and rushed to the ledge hoping to surprise any attacker. Aleae kneeled beside me peering into the darkness that even my magical eyewear could not penetrate. The footsteps turned to alarmingly loud thuds as three large shadows headed directly towards us.  I made out the skeletal shapes of two massive ogre-sized skeletons with what, when they were covered with flesh, might have been the fleshless heads of bulls. Just behind them was a similarly hulking creature who, while its bones were still covered with flesh, had misplaced whole swaths of its skin. Very large axes and clubs were carried in their dead, but animate hands.

I loosed an ineffectual arrow and the creatures continued in their run, hardly noticing that they no longer ran on the floor, but where now running directly up the cave wall we had struggled to climb just minutes before. There would be no chance at ambush. Rungo left our ledge and attempted to cast light on the creatures, biting one of the bony ones as it passed her. Abandoning my bow I attempted to trip the closest bone beast, but while it fell to one knee unbalanced, it refused to fall, and instead clung to the cave wall. Sahlessh closed the gap striking another of the beasts repeatedly and while it also refused to fall to the cave floor below, it seemed quite distracted as its bones visibly shattered.

Distracted as they were by our initial attacks, the tide shifted quickly and we were able to still all three of the beasts, as their bones and rotted flesh fell back to the cavern floor below.

I was not alone in being spent, but until we had investigated the tunnel behind us, this was not a place to rest.  I investigated the bodies, looking for any clue as to their origin, but only found the numbers 13, 4 and 5 carved into their foreheads.  The numbers themselves did not suggest any deeper meaning, other than perhaps that quantities of these creatures existed.  So many in fact that numbers were required to keep track of them.  I could only hope that their keeper could not count past 13.

Returning to the circular room and the tunnel beyond, we found an area blackened by flame with scattered shared debris. Magnus tossed a thighbone of one of the skeletal creatures ahead of us and the corridor was filled with a furnace-blast of flame. Heat washed over us and a great wind rolled the nor charred bone to our feet. Sahlessh carefully investigated the burnt remains and noticed amount the debris a flute. Damaged by the flame he still was able to identify it, impossibly, as a cherished belonging that had been taken from him. He tried playing a note, and while hardly beautiful, it still functioned.

We attempted tossing other items and I shot an arrow, hoping that the magical flames would perhaps take time to recharge between blasts, but with each prodding, the flames would again appear and the heat would feel just as strong.

Seeing no immediate solution, I left this puzzle to those more suited to puzzling and settled down to rest while keeping half an ear listening for the arrival of more company. Cypher's experience during the war suggested he was most suited to disarming such a magical barrier and after some discussion with the others he infused himself with various magics he possessed. He fairly glowed with energies I could not begin to understand, though presumably they afforded him some measure of protection.  Then he strode forward and disappeared into flames as what I hoped would not become his pyre reignited. Nearly a full minute passed and none of us dared speak. I could see his outline flicked and disappear only to appear again and then the flames went out. Smoke curled up from every joint and I could see the heat rising off of him twist the air. If a warforged could look satisfied, he did.  He showed us the runes which seemed to control this trap, but now we faced another. Farther down the hall a gale would instantly rise up and knock us back. It seems whoever wanted to keep intruders out was a master of elemental magics.

This puzzle was more easily defeated by Magnus with the help of his enormous strength, an Immovable Rod, and a length of rope. Again, runes caused the raging wind and Magnus was able to disable them.

Beyond the second set of runes we prepared for another trap but found that the tunnel ended in a pit that descended into inky blackness that even my treasured goggles could not penetrate.

#97 - Treasures and Tendrils

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

The Brelish wizard Elidac presented us with a fine leather-bound wooden chest of Lukar’s belongings. There were some very useful magical items inside and Elidac was amenable to identifying each of them, as well as the several items Simel had found on Lukar’s disabled body.
Below is a detailed inventory of the items acquired from our adventure in the upper keep.

Items acquired from the various phantasms we visited:

• Bag of Bones (borne by Cypher) - From the phantasmal event of Lurinet of Aundair. There are nine small bones in the bag. Planting a single bone in the ground will produce an unknown effect approximately one minute later. This effect sounds very similar to Aleae’s Wand of Wonder; therefore, it is not subject to further, qualitative analysis. Dumping the entire bag’s contents on on the ground will cause a great explosion, damaging all creatures within the vicinity, including the aggressor. A most fascinating set of items, I look forward to seeing them in use.  I have decided to keep these in my supplies for the time being.
• Elixir of Health (borne by Cypher) - From the phantasmal event of Lukar of Thrane. A decanter of frothy blue liquid with tiny bubbles of light inside. Contains enough for two doses. Drinking a dose of the potion can cure disease and a number of other ailments.
• Goggles of Night (borne by Simel) - From the phantasmal event of Lukar of Thrane. Wearing these goggles grants the wearer exception darkvision.
• Immovable Rod (borne by Cypher) - From the phantasmal event of Charise of Cyre. A silver but otherwise unremarkable cylinder. Pressing the small button on one side causes the rod to activate, becoming fixed in space. It can bear exception amounts of weight. Pressing the button again de-activates it.

Items taken from the corpse of Lukar of Thrane:

• Lukar’s Cane (borne by Cypher) - A finely crafted magical staff with the head of a goat carved in the top. Upon striking a creature, the wielder may choose to unleash a spell of Polymorph from within the cane.  This power can only be unleashed once each day. Currently only Lukar could activate the power of the cane. Anyone else who attempts to use the cane’s magical powers, or identify its properties as I found out with the most difficulty, will become the target of the Polymorph spell. I don’t think this cane will prove functionally useful to our group.  The only person who could have wielded it is Aleae and she does not seem interested in fighting with such a weapon. I do think that House Cannith would make use of this tool, once they readjust its matrix to allow another to use it. I will hold it in order to sell at a Cannith enclave.
• Bracelet of Feather Fall (borne by Aleae) - Fine silver bracelet with inscribed feathers around the band. Allows the wearer to cast a localized effect similar to the Feather Fall spell.
• Gem of the Earth Elemental (borne by Cypher and hidden from Aleae) - When cast upon the ground, an earth elemental is summoned in the place where the gem lands. The elemental will be friendly to the thrower and his companions and will obey verbal commands. The elemental remains on this plane for an hour or until it is destroyed. Simel and I were very careful to keep this item from Aleae’s awareness. I had strong suspicions that it was elemental conjuration magic and I did not want her to throw a fit like the last time we encountered such magic. Elemental magic is a powerful tool to be wielded deftly.



A sample of
rubellite tourmaline. 

• Lukar’s Dagger (borne by Simel) - A magical dagger with accoutrement of the Silver Flame

Former possessions of Lukar of Thrane:

• Two mundane gems (borne by Aleae): a fire opal and a star ruby, each estimated to be worth about 1,000 galifars.
• Quiver (mundane) with 15 arrows (born by Simel)
• 10 death arrows - magical arrows capable of sing the archer's own life force to exact greater punishment upon the target.
• 5 guardian arrows - strong magical arrows that increase the bearer's awareness of his surroundings.
• Staff of Clairvoyance (borne by Aleae) - Curled staff of ivory topped with a rubellite tourmaline. This magical staff grants its wield access to the Clairvoyance spell, and heightens one's magical defenses when grasped with both hands. 
• “Faith Bolt” (borne by Magnus) A javelin made of enchanted silver and wrapped in silk, this Javelin of Lightning was blessed by the Church of the Silver Flame. Lukar called it a Faithbolt. When activated while thrown and the command words spoken ("For the Silver Flame"), the Bolt will trail a massive lightning bolt, hitting each target, friend or foe, along its path. This magic is tied to the Silver Flame, so some measure of faith must be exerted to continue using the Faith Bolt’s powers. Much studying must be performed to understand this divine magic.
• Ring of Jumping (borne by Clarion) - A silver ring printed with the impression of an animal's print around the band. Allows the wearer to cast the Jump spell several times each day.
• Potion of Stone Giant Strength (borne by Simel) - Imbiber becomes as strong as a stone giant for an hour.
• Potion of Heroism (borne by Magnus) - A red seething liquid, gives the imbiber extra energy and the effects of a Blessing for an entire hour.
• Potions of Greater Healing (2 borne by Aleae and Clarion) - Potent potions of healing.
• 2 Scrolls of Protection (Protection from Plants, borne by Cypher, and Protection from Fiends, borne by Clarion) - Reading the scroll will create a 5-foot radius, 10-foot-high cylinder centered around the reader for 5 minutes. The barrier prevents creatures of the type specified from entering the cylinder and from affecting anything in the cylinder. Unlike scrolls created by an arcanist, these can be activated by any creature who can read.
• Draught of Impending Death (borne by Cypher) - A milky white liquid, the drinker will be repaired magically after being disabled within 24 hours of drinking the Draught.
• Philter of Sacrifice (borne by Cypher) - Two creatures drink from the potion, alchemically linking them for 24 hours. The first time one of the drinkers is disabled, they are repaired instantly but the other person loses a measure of life energy to balance the effects.

While we examined and equipped ourselves with these new devices, Elidac and the remaining wizards—Garrek of Karrnath, Charise of Cyre, and Lurinet of Aundair—looked on. I have noticed that only Elidac speaks to us. The other wizards always seem half-present.

After presented with several choices of where the wizards were willing to transport us, we decided rather quickly to visit the halls far beneath Glyphstone Keep where the alleged angel named Talor resided. Aleae questioned Elidac about what he knew of the Mournland—for her own errand, though unclear to me, is relates to the Mourning—and he suggested that if were truly insistent on that topic that we might find Talor more knowledgeable. He believed Talor may have been directly involved somehow, although he didn't appear to assign blame to the angel.

Elidac referred to Talor as a justicator of his kind. This was not a title with which we were familiar but the root word—justice—was immediately apparent. Elidac also warned us that while Talor may be considered "good" he is also dangerous and that we may be judged in his presence.

Elidac said that we would be welcome to return to this place if we wished, though we would have to return by conventional means. Then with a few arcane words Elidac cast a spell of teleportation.

We arrived moments later in a dark cavern. Given the sizable stalagmites and stalactites, we knew we must far underground indeed. A single passage wound up and out of sight and smelled of decay. Additionally a ledge was discovered 40 feet overhead by Simel, whose darkvision goggles allowed him to spy the aperture. I sent Rungo to climb the wall and investigate and she discovered the passage led to to another room, this one perfectly hewn from the rock in a way that makes it distinct from the goblin-carved passages of Glyphkeep proper. She also reported the air to be significantly warmer up in the passage above.

We fashioned two 50-foot lengths of rope and had Rungo bring one end up and then over the outcropping, allowing Clarion and myself to hold anchor while the others climbed up safely.  When several of the party members were safely along the outcropping, they were attacked by an unknown assailant. At the same time Simel and Clarion are attacked from below, ensnared by the stony yet flexible tendrils of an animate stalagmite, as we could see with Clarion’s dancing lights. Rungo informed me that there was a similar moving stalactite attacking the group from above, but they, like myself, were unable to see it in the dark. I infuse Rungo with magical light and sent her to climb and illuminate the creature on the cavern ceiling.

Over the past several weeks I have been honing the skills I learned in the creation forge and the Brelish army. They taught me to be swift and steady, the better to handle dangerous traps quickly, to get in and get out quickly without any trace. The consistent practice came to fruition and my speed in combat is now greatly increased. It will provide our party with a great tactical advantage.  I clambered up the wall with ease and got in position to attack with my armbow once Rungo lit up the target.

Magnus fought free from the adhesive tendrils of the stalactite and heaved the "Faithbolt" at the creature, activating the lightning power. Unfortunately Magnus was not very proficient in using magical items and he didn’t realize the risk that he was putting Rungo through, as she was between Magnus and the stalactite. Rungo took a massive hit of lightning, while the javelin and its energy completely missed its target. A bite from the stalactite and Rungo was nearly disabled but thankfully Aleae’s Wand of Wonder put the creature to sleep. Rungo bit the stalactite once more and then ran full-speed back towards me. A mundane javelin from Magnus finished off the stalactite on the
ceiling.

Meanwhile the stalagmite on the ground was hounding Clarion and Simel, but they fought back. Sahlessh, in a burst of speed I cannot properly understand, jumped down the 40-foot drop and performed a magnificent flying kick to the creature. He repeatedly struck the stone-like creature with various parts of his body before being savagely bitten by it. Simel, at last, disabled it with his rapier.

We are far from beaten, but had not expected to be attacked so suddenly. I am left wondering whether these creatures were independent subterranean predators, or whether they were sentries placed here to surprised intruders. And if so, whose are they? Avashad's or the angel's?

"What, is it my breath?"

#96 - Restful Words and An Unexpected Goat

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

It was clear to me that my new companions were not going in the right direction when they chose to seek the wizard in the alleged tower above. I could not abandon Saralith, the one who was selected with me to begin this adventure. I had to try to find her, even if it meant leaving my group and facing these gnolls on my own.

As the party continued through the secret door, I remained behind... alone.

There were six gnolls in the first group that came. One attempted to freeze me with a spell of frost, little did he know that I was raised in a land far colder than anything his magic produced. As the gnoll's companion attempted to strike me, I sidestepped, delivering a bone-crushing elbow to its ribs. Before he had time to yelp I grabbed the neck of the gnoll next to him and threw him towards their companions. This opened a space for me to charge the spellcaster. The last thing he saw was my finger gouging out his eye. His screams clearly shook the other gnolls and they lost their will to fight. I fear that my companions mistook those screams for mine.

When fighting groups, it is essential that you inflict maximum damage in the shortest period of time. Furthermore, if you can make a gruesome example of one, generally the others in the group will think twice about engaging you, buying precious seconds that can be the difference between life and death.
I hurriedly moved on, attempting to work my way downward, towards the area I thought that I might find Saralith, but the gnolls were always on my scent.

I adopted the tactics of the Stormwalkers, a small but fierce tribe back on Seren. These warriors fight like dragons. They weave in and out of battle, constantly moving like serpents. They strike and then disappear into the shadows, only to strike again from a new angle. I picked off gnolls here and there. I attacked when they rested. I retreated when they advanced. I harried them even as they hunted me, but had little time to rest and so eventually I abandoned my foray and decided to rejoin my companions.

One noteworthy discovery was a large chamber that I skirted by. The chamber was guarded by gnolls and the undead remains of several larger creatures, perhaps ogres or minotaurs. This place is worth returning to, as it may be the location of the teleportation circle that the group has been looking for, and Saralith may be held nearby.

It was not hard to find my way back to the secret door. I ventured up the stairs, which were covered in an unfamiliar, fungal substance. I encountered only floating but easily-avoided spheres which resembled the eye tyrants of legend if one had been infested with spores. At last I emerged into the crumbling walls of a fortress, in what turned out to be part of the ground-level keep. There was no roof and vast portions of the walls were missing, their remains lying in heaps on the floor.

As I stood there surveying the land and trying to figure out which direction my companions had ventured in, the sky began to change color, gradually lightening. First the black gave way to a deep purple, then blue began to creep in.

The sun began to take its place in the sky, though shielded by the vault overhead, when suddenly my eyes were plunged back to darkness as a massive shape loomed over me alarming speed. It took but a moment to realize that a rock had been hurled at me, but no ordinary rock. This rock was at least as large as the head of a mountain yak and rounded smooth, perfectly shaped for throwing. If not for my training, I would surely have been struck dead where I stood, but I was able to throw myself to the side and narrowly avoid that horrible death.

I slipped out of a hole in the opposite wall, trying to put as much distance between myself and my assailant as possible. As I rounded a corner to catch a glimpse at my opponent, I found myself face to face with a massive bull with metal scales covering his frame. His eyes glowed with an unnatural green aura and the world suddenly changed. First to grey, then to black.

The next thing that I can recall was being quite disoriented and staring a giant. Not my favorite way to wake up. As I struggled with whether or not I was dreaming, I heard the voices of my new companions. They explained that I had been turned to stone and it seemed to be the gray-skinned giantess near me who had removed the petrification.

Shortly after reverting to my normal consistency, we went to speak to a dovah [dragon]. From a distance, it seemed like a young sahqo [red] dovah. It had the right shape and mannerisms, but as we approached, I could see that something was very wrong. This sahqo seemed blemished, as though the color had faded and been replaced with a smoky, ash color. I had seen abominations like this once before.


Before we advanced within earshot, I pulled Magnus aside and told him of my experience. Before I was brought to this Land of Demons, a young sot [white] named Raskothah came to our tribe. She was the last child of Ghal Turac (the most noble dragon who founded our tribe) and she came to warned us of an impending threat that the Bringers of Fire represented. A great evil was influencing the Bringers of Fire and needed to be stopped.

Saralith and myself were selected to accompany Raskothah to the Wyrmsperch Mountains, a place none from my tribe had ever been allowed to see before. This was an honor that cannot be conveyed by words. She told us a tale going back a thousand years or more and spoke of things I am not yet ready to share with my new companions. Upon these details the fate of the world rests. I cannot reveal what I know until I am absolutely certain where the allegiances of my companions lie.

Raskothah was preparing to bestow relics upon Saralith and myself to aid in fighting these dark forces, but we were interrupted and set upon by two "dragons" such as the one before me now. Then it was a bii [blue] and a graag [green], whereas now, it was a sahqo, but all three shared the same ashen shadow instead of their true colors. I was overcome by their forces and imprisoned in the tapestry that brought me here. Now, perhaps I had an opportunity to get some answers.

This nizah sahqo [false red]—named Mesanth we learned later—was quite cocky for an enslaved beast. The haughtiness of the sahqo is well known, even among those not so corrupted. Magnus lost not a moment before he began to taunt her. His attempt to persuade her to provide us with information had all the subtlety of the first flower after the winter's end. Even a child could see through his attempts.

He goaded Mesanth, telling her of her master's death and that hers was soon to follow. He then offered her a lifeline, if she were to switch to our side, he would let her remain in this world.
Dovah are incredibly smart. I do not think she was fooled, and yet, Magnus' plan may have yielded unexpected fruit. I am reminded of the parable of the dovah:

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 serve, be commanded, or kept aloof. Those who defy us or lack respect declare themselves unfit and become food."

Sahqo are incredibly smart, but they see men as beneath them. Sometimes, they reveal too much because they think that we are not capable of doing anything that would hinder their plans. Mesanth revealed to us that her color shifting was not an affliction, but something that she chose—that she had "bathed in true night." She was not lesser than before, but more and would never chose to revert to her former self. Now, she was truly alive. It is hard to change the mind of a sahvaat, a zealot. I knew we were wasting our time. This creature before us must be destroyed before we leave this place.

After speaking with the dragon, we all decided that rest was in order. The entire group had been running for too long. We found a location near a lake and set up camp. I was nearly asleep, when I heard a sound I associate more from Seren Island, the bleating of an ozak [goat].

The ozak was normal in appearance, except for the horns, which seemed to be banded in metal. In looking around, I noticed that Cypher was not with us. It took but a moment to realize that the ozak was Cypher. Somehow, he had been turned into one!

Simel was closet to Ozak-Cypher, but he clearly has not spent time around animals, as he spooked "Goat-Cypher" while approaching. Cypher charged him and then turned his attention to me as he caught notice of me. I am quite familiar with ozak, so it was no effort to avoid being butted, nonetheless, we still needed to control Cypher so he did not stray to far and allow himself to be eaten by Mesanth.

I was preparing to catch him when a rope floated up to Cypher's neck and slipped a loop over his head—a trick of the elf woman's magic. Ozak do not like being tied down, and Ozak-Cypher was no exception to this rule. He immediately began to buck and scurry about. As Cypher ran, the rope was pulled from Aleae's grasp. Truly, I am surprised she was able to lift the rope in the first place, how can a being be so frail?

I ran and grabbed the other end of the rope. I tried to let Ozak-Cypher calm down on his own, but after a few minutes I lost patience and reeled him in. Upon returning to the group, Clarion sat down on the rope and agreed to keep Cypher from harm. Soon after, the magic that had afflicted Cypher—evidently a defensive mechanism of a cane he had been examining—had faded, and he was once again a warforged.

Nothing would prevent me from sleeping now.

I woke what seemed to be a moment later, but in truth it was several hours later. The sky was dark and the moons had set. I was ready for another few hours of sleep, but was roused due to the arrival of a group of four humans.

The leader was a dark-skinned man with elaborate maroon robes and an accent that was similar to that of Cypher. He wore his beard short, something no self respecting Seren would consider, and it had a most peculiar coloration at the tips, as though he had been walking across the icy steppes and frost had accumulated at the end. Given his age, bearing, and influence, if he were a Seren, there is no doubt in my mind that he would be a dragonspeaker.

Behind the leader, was a woman in outlandish, gown-like robes, another with plainer clothing that would be more favored by the women of Seren, and a second man with a dark feel about him. These were the wizards of the tower and somehow, my new companions knew something of them already. There had been five, but the fifth, Lukar, had turned traitor and he had been slain probably around the time I had arrived and been petrified!

We conversed with the leader, Elidac, for quite some time. He and the wizards with him had been focusing their attention on something called the World Sphere for quite some time. They found the orrery, as they call it, near Silver Lake during the war that had torn up this continent in the last century. After unearthing it, Elidac had brought it to this place to study it. Through their work, they are tying to prevent the world from slipping into the war that we are on the brink of. He was exceptionally vague about how they had planned to go about this but it did seem to involve the giants. The stone giants here were representative of that.

The recent events with my companions battling the traitorous Lukar has shown Elidac that he needs to take a more active interest in thwarting the endeavors of the enemy behind all of our recent troubles—the rakshasa they call Avashad. The wizard is willing to assist us, since our intentions are aligned in some way with his. He has offered to transport us somewhere of our choosing when we are ready. He is also going to provide us with some treasures that had been Lukar's but that his former friends do not require for themselves.

He has suggested four possibilities for our transport:

• He can send us to the Great Hall (the throne room), but we have already been there and have no desire to return.
• He can send us outside the keep but warned us that it was being watched from the outside by harpies. Regardless, we have work to do here.
• He can send us to the halls of our enemies, which would be my choice. Our enemies grow in number and strength with each passing moment, I am not sure we can afford to delay our confrontation with them.
• Lastly, he can send us to the halls of Talor, the Justicator. This was the being that the others had seen when Kard sacrificed himself for the group.

Many of the details of this story were lost to me, as I do not even know what war they were speaking of. Word of events in the Land of Demons barely reach the shores of Seren.

From what I could gather, Talor was likely a force for good, but that it was not clear why he was here. He has been referred to as an angel, which is difficult to believe. During the war Talor was one of four Messengers who came down to Eberron from one of the celestial planes. They fought on the side of the Silver Flame, a church popular in the land of Thrane, and led an invasion into Cyre (which is now the Mournland). Elidac believes that these Messengers were tasked with containing some great evil and preventing it from spreading too far. When they had accomplished their goal, three of the Messengers returned from whence they came, but Talor remained behind and came to this place and, apparently, never returned home.

Magnus and the others decided that we would be transported to the halls of Talor. It is a decision I do not agree with, but I am not yet in a position to argue with them. I could venture out alone again, but I know that nothing will come of that course of action. For now, my path is entwined with my companions. I will need to prove my worth to them and convince them that all of our paths take us to confront the oni, Hiraz, and eventually Avashad himself.

Elidac left us and returned shortly afterwards with the chest of Lukar's possessions. There were several trinkets within, but what need have I for such items? A monk relies on his fists to be cudgels and his freedom is his armor. I am anxious to move on. The sooner we reach the halls of Talor, the sooner we can get return to our true task, rekindling the Winter Coalition and stopping the Lord of Undeath.

#95 - Invisibility and Chain Lightning

Excerpt from the Personal Chronicles of Aleae Dyo'ionah Tiamah D'maii Dwin' Eytherarnith

The magic that encapsulated the wizard would not last much longer. My pulse raced, my mind spun. Did we make a mistake? Was the wizard now at an advantage? Not only did he have time to prepare a host of protective spells and spells to strike, but we had given him the opportunity to study us, our interactions, our combat styles.

The previous fight left me exhausted and drained. Lukar was in possession of magic greater than mine, of that I was certain. I would have to outsmart him if I was to survive this battle.

In the mere seconds before the wizard was free, I grasped Simel’s shoulder, imparting a bit of protection onto us. “No one can see you now. Good luck, my friend,” I whispered as our bodies vanished from sight.

As I ran underneath the sphere, its existence faded, leaving our enchanted enemy floating freely thirty feet above the group who waited in vain to grapple him upon his anticipated landing. The Wand burned against my chest, aching to be used. I did what it asked; pointed it at my hovering adversary and hoped for the best.

Colors as beautiful and bright as the first day of Nost-na-Lothion sprung forth from its tip and wove through the air around me. The chroma easily had the ability to overwhelm those who were not accustomed to such brilliance. Holding my breath I arched my head back and caught a glimpse of my foe’s face and those of my peers. “Yee!” I huffed silently through clenched teeth. He was unaffected, but it seems as if Magnus was not as lucky.

Moving with exceptional, magical speed, Lukar lowered himself to the ground and darted towards the blackness. He started to mumble. Words I knew dearly rang through my ears; he was trying to make himself invisible! Uttering softly while intricately dancing my hands across the air, I focused on my adversary. I will not let you get away! I thought with an intensity so great I imagined my friends could feel the sentiment. As the spell fizzled–his form blinking in and out–the quizzical look on his face was quickly replaced by one of fury. My confidence boosted.
In retaliation, the wizard tossed two bright gemstones to the ground nearby. They hit the floor, making a light tinkling sound as they rolled and finally settled nearest to Clarion.

Both Clarion and Magus struggled to grasp hold of the wizard. Even Magnus, who looked different–bigger, bolder, dare I say, even dragon-like–found his maneuvers easily eluded by the wizard’s powers. Our frustration turned to distress as the gemstones he'd thrown cracked open. Tilting our heads upward, we gaped at towering water and earth elementals which had sprung up in their place. Within seconds, they attacked; the earth pummeled Magnus while the water flowed through a transient Cypher (who seemingly step out of the darkness, why was Cypher’s form not solid?).

Although I hated to do so, I had to stop the elementals from future assault. There was too much at stake. A stream of frost-blue energy exploded from my fingertips immediately, freezing the water elemental upon impact. I turned my attention to Lukar. Energy welded up within my stomach. Breathing in deeply, I brought it upward and through my lungs, letting it grow within me. When I could no longer stand the fire within my chest, I exhaled. The ball of energy flew down my arms, burst forth out of my palms, and headed straight for my adversary. He was too powerful, too well prepared. Much to my chagrin, the fierceness I hurled was absorbed by–what I deduced to be–an invisible shell that protected his person from magical damage. “Wasted!” I mumbled.

Feeling the pressure of our onslaught, Lukar promptly created three illusionary clones of himself. Clarion and Magnus rushed to do what they do best–pummel using weapons and fists. Magnus was able to take down one of the clones, but not before succumbing to another of the earth elemental’s vicious attacks. An arrow shot from an invisible Simel whizzed by and struck another clone out of existence. Knowing my magic would get me no where with that shell in place, I snatched my longbow from my back and easily extinguished the remaining clone.

Lukar looked concerned for the first time. He ran towards the elementals, away from Magnus and Clarion’s forceful blows, away from Cypher’s wavering form. But then he stopped dead in his tracks. I knew it was coming, but could not manage to find the words in time. Turning back towards the area from which he came, his brow furrowed in concentration, Lukar pointed a charged finger at a now fully-materialized Cypher. With a half grimace, half snarl, he let loose the thick blast of white lightning from his finger. They never stood a chance.

Cypher held up what looked like the wand he had muttered on about earlier.

“Fool!” I shouted in my head. “RUN!”

It was too late. The bolt of lighting passed into Cypher, then forked out again into both Clarion and Magnus. Within seconds all three of my companions were on the ground. Whether the chain lightning had left them dead or unconscious, I did not know. Smoke rose from their blackened forms.

A calmness came over me. This man has quite possibly killed my friends. I silently reflected. He is most likely aware of or partially responsible for the Mournland and the stranding of my people. I was now prepared both mentally and physically to do what must be done. He must be brought to justice no matter the price.

Quietly I watched as Lukar studied his surroundings. When he seemed satisfied that he was alone he went towards our fallen comrades. As an arrow expertly struck the wizard, I concluded that Simel must also have been feeling uneasy about Lukar’s positioning. Once again, Lukar cast clones to confuse us, but our slew of arrows swiftly eradicated them, leaving him alone and under an onslaught of Simel’s projectiles.

The vibrations under the footsteps of Simel were slight, but it was enough for the earth elemental to "see" with its body. These minute pulses were like a bright beacon to its senses and he soon was upon the invisible marksman!

Assuming his enemy was occupied, Lukar took the opportunity to do what he had first set out to do and headed towards the orrery—the "World Sphere" as Elidca had called it. There was no time. No second to reconsider. Not one moment to catch my breath or think. It had to work. Lukar must be brought to justice. I ran as fast as I could toward the edge and launched myself into the darkness, out over the edge.

As I started to fall into the abyss, I used what little energy I had remaining to cast a minor teleportation spell upon myself. Silently I landed on the floating platform next to the orrery, reaching it before he did. It hummed, great with power. Lukar was only steps away as I made my attempt. Clearing my mind as best I could, I tried to focus on our physical location within the orrery. I pictured dissolving the enclosure and freeing the captive wizards. As I pulled away from the device I felt magic sweep over me. Delicate mechanical wings sprung from my back. This was not the result for which I was aiming. Lukar came nearer but still could not see me. I stood my ground and waited to be hit.

Lukar ran into my invisible form at full speed. He immediately attempted to cast a spell, but only shapes poured forth from his lips, no sounds. The magic I felt earlier! It was a sound void! Neither of us could speak a word. There was a possibility I may still survive.

Striving to use his staff to deal a blow against my unperceivable form proved useless. Easily dodging his maladroit efforts, I thrust my Nightsong Blade into his arm. THUD! An arrow struck Lukar from the left. Simel was still alive! I waited anxiously for more aid as the clumsy fight between Lukar and I went nowhere for far too long. Simel must be near as I spotted the earth elemental approach the floating platform by awkwardly jumping and then absorbing hovering stone after hovering stone. My body started to tingle. The invisibility spell I cast earlier was about to end.

“Please be near, Simel,” I prayed.    

Behind the wizard, Simel’s form slowly came back into view. It was at that moment–while I ignorantly let my attention wander–that Lukar struck me with his staff. Magic coursed through my body endeavoring to take control of my shape. Refocusing, I was able to shake it off before it took hold.

Seconds later Lukar toppled to the ground, black smoke pouring from his gaping mouth and mortal wound. Simel had delivered the final blow with his rapier, and the blade jutted from the wizard's chest. The changeling dropped to his knees in an attempt to stabilize the wizard, evidently thinking that Lukar's death could be worse.

“I think he is possessed!” shouted Simel. It was too late. The black form took its proper shape, that of a demon of smoke, and attacked Simel. Turning its eyes to the globe, the creature that was Lukar seemed to remember its mission. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed the confined wizards appeared less frantic. This gave me great hope. As the creature moved forward to engage with the orrery, I readied to attack.

There was no need. From the chasm flew three gargoyles—the ones we'd met below allied with the stone giant. They pulled with their arms, tore with their razor-sharp claws, and bit down with their barbed jaw at the shadow demon until there was nothing left of it but tarnished air. A long drawn out breath I didn’t realize I was holding escaped my pursed lips as the tension melted from my muscles.

I am hurt. I am tired. I must rest.

#94 - Wizards Encaged

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

Kard hurtled himself shield first into Lukar's magical bolt of energy. It exploded into a terrific 120-foot diameter blast of cold and mist, damaging all of us except Simel, who stood just outside its radius, and left us blinded for an instant. When the light and mist had faded, Kard was nowhere to be seen, Rungo lay inert at my feet, and the four righteous wizards were trapped within a translucent cage of force. Aleae quickly prepared a fireball to fling at the traitorous wizard of Thrane but he dispelled it with ease, much to her consternation.

Rungo was of no use to me in this epic battle to be, and having seen some of the most powerful magic I had ever encountered, I forewent the opportunity to reverse her damage and immediately prepared my glass-crafted Blast Rod. As quickly as possible, I infused it with potent metamagic matrices that would allow it to capture the potential energies of any spell or infusion cast upon it for an even more potent later discharge.

I had once heard the power of the Blast Rod infusion compared to the work of a Zil steamboat gathering fish in its nets as it trawled the pelagic waters of Lake Brey; once the nets were filled to capaicty, the fishermen would be able to yield a profit in gold. Personally I find the analogy egregiously incomplete. Perhaps if the fish in question were capable of independent incendiary combustion prior to their capture would they provide greater volatility in close proximity.

Regardless, the Blast Rod could thus discharge the gathered energies upon my command.  I stepped back several feet, hoping to strategically prevent Lukar from casting any ray spells. Nothing would help us if he decided to cast another wide area of effect spell.

But the Thrane wizard's attention was drawn to my creation of the Blast Rod and he cast a spell on me that I had difficulty fighting off—at least initially. Several seconds later I realized that I had run at full speed away from the battle. My senses returned to me just in time for me to see Clarion hurl the recently acquired Bead of Force at Lukar. It is a marvelous, if transient magical device; I had identified its magical properties before giving it to Clarion and he apparently had decided not to delay its use. The Bead, a small black sphere, causes severe physical trauma upon impact, but its tactical value truly lies in its subsequent effect. After detonation, the Bead expanded into a sphere of force 20 feet in diameter, trapping the Thrane wizard within it. For the next full minute he would be contained wholly within the sphere, protected from our attacks but rendered harmless to us as well. Not even teleportation magic could effect an escape. This allowed us to focus on the wizard's ally within the confines of this battle.

Lukar had a companion with him that was fighting Magnus, fueling his ongoing rage. The creature was extremely large and vaguely feline in form but seemed to be made of large steel scales. It was as agile as a great cat but its head resembled no beast I had ever seen. I would have suspected a familiar to be traveling with the wizard but by my assessment it was more akin to a construct than a flesh or spiritual beast. Perhaps it was a homunculus, but certainly tougher than any iron defender that I had ever known. Clarion and Simel both joined the attack, though most of their strikes and arrows glanced off its steely armor. The beast even disarmed Magnus of his mace after slashing him with its claws.

Magnus broke away from battle with the metal-scaled monster and pushed the force prison holding Lukar up to the higher level where most of the party was. Another feature of a Bead of Force is that it weigh but a single pound regardless of its contents—a powerful property reminiscent of extradimensional space.  Clarion deftly jumped up to the higher level too and thunderwaved the beast, hoping to throw it back over the edge into the abyss.  While a few scales were blasted free from its metal body, it was able to maintain its purchase.
Aleae used her Mage Hand spell to lift up Lukar's spherical prison 25 feet in the air. He responded with a scornful look at her and began to cast spells upon himself. I was able to determine only that it provided him magical contingency, but I could not determine the details. He must have had some means to communicate with the metal beast because it immediately began attacking Aleae. I rushed by and touched its metal scales, infusing them with strong magical heat. Over the next half a minute it got increasingly hotter, and increasingly more damaged as a result.

Aleae slowly maneuvered the sphere through the air and over the abyss around us, which we believed would be a long drop to the ground level outside of Elidac's obelisk. Her hope was to cause Lukar to plummet to his end once the Bead of Force's power ended. Lukar responded with a look of despair, but Aleae read through his countenance and realized that he had some plan making that a moot course of action. Instead, she returned him to where the bulk of us were, allowing the party to prepare for his return to the battle. A second direct hit from Aleae's fireball nearly melted the metallic feline creature; most of its metal scales had been fused together by the heat. The construct slumped to the ground like a quadrupedal-inspired pile of forge slag. It was beyond conceivable repair.

With Magnus ahead of me, I rushed to the magical World Sphere, as Elidac had called it—the floating orrery off to one side of the battefield. Simel had been attempting to communicate with one of the wizards trapped in their own cage of forge; sound did not pass through the transparent walls of their prison.

On my way to the Sphere I used used up the last of my most powerful infusions to augment my Blast Rod, hoping to eventually unleash a torrent of force upon Lukar when the time was right. Simel and Clarion were attempting frantically to communicate with the ensnared wizards, to gain strategic advice and possibly free them in order to help us battle Lukar once he was freed from his prison.

Simel called out that one of the wizards indicate the World Sphere may be important. When I got there I could feel the powerful magic without even touching it. It was great, and yet delicate. It was all I could do to not simply stand there and be mystified. I recognized immediately that this was not a device to be trifled with, that it would require great patience and time to analyze and understand. My companions were pressuring me to act, however, and Magnus seemed ready to grapple with it, so I willed myself to put aside all around me and focus on the orb before me.

With deference to its might, I imagined the Sphere releasing the trapped wizards. But I was too rushed. My mind was not up to the task in so hurried a pace! Instead of freeing potential allies against our common threat, I felt the world darkening. I tried again, forcing my companions and my enemies from my mind. Yet it did not yield. Time was running out, and I knew Lukar had only seconds more before he would be freed. I tried again. My concentration deflated as I felt myself slipping further from the world around me and the impending battle with the evil wizard clouded my thoughts; I attempted to make contact with the World Sphere with both hands, but my hands went right through it and I fumbled again in my attempts to understand and direct its energies.

I was so far from those around me now that color had begun to disappear from my sight and a gray fog was closing in. I rushed out towards Lukar, where everyone was waiting, weapons and spells at the ready, but immediately I realized something was very wrong. I couldn't interact physically with the world around me; unable to take steps on the ground, I found myself floating along in the direction I was trying to run. It was becoming clear to me that I had unwisely manipulated powerful magics without proper understanding and it had left me somewhere between Eberron and the Ethereal Plane. This was what I had termed the Border Ethereal—a place where the material world and the insubstantial void of the Deep Ethereal overlap.

I forged on toward my companions, hoping I would be able to figure out a way to help them.