#41 - The Bone Storm

As told by Rendar d'Torrn, a bounty hunter of House Tharashk

Drix's half-elf "Drivinia" form

And so we waited and tended to our wounds.  Drix, back in her half-elven form, came into our room to bestow healing blessings from the Shadow, which only I needed and accepted.  She also brought our weapons, which for this fight we were allowed to use.  I set about slinging my bow, swords, and clipping axes and hamers to my belt while she explained the scale of what we would be joining next: the Bonestorm.  Many combatants, all fighting each other to win.  It would be in our best interest to let these others fight amongst themselves.  Winning would be nice, but it was not our goal. Defeating—ideally, killing—the oni who had taken Trug’s soul was our chief goal. 

Drix asked us what names we would provide, for announcing and wagers.  While Doongal, Magnus and I gave simple titles and names, Xoma and Cypher seemed to want to outdo each other with grandiose names. Xoma gave his title as "Xoma, Lord of the Vulkoor of Xen’drik, Slayer of Fireshazz the Troll, Slayer of Vegg the Flesh-Cutter." While Cypher was "Cypher, First Sergeant, Brelish Engineers Brigade, Retired, Master Manipulator of the Mystic Matrix."

Drix left, and we began the procession to the arena.  One after another we entered the arena, Magnus first.  He struck claim to a corner of the floor, enough for us to see most everything happening.  We stood by him, for blessings from Doongul and infusions from Cypher and his Mystical Matrixes or what have you. Fire spewed from an open pit and massive braziers lit the corners.

On a column in the center of the arena was a harpy in finer attire than most. She announced those who entered, of whom we had a good view.  It seemed a never-ending stream of creatures came to participate with names and titles as endless: a goblin trio, a hobgoblin sorcerer, another hobgoblin, an orc warrior, an ogre, and then the "Mockery’s Avenger," Zurin Souldrinker. Tall, green-hued skin, he resembled the other ogre mage we'd met only vaguely—not as powerfully built, but three times as sinister.

After him a half-orc, a sickly armored human (perhaps a prisoner, desperate for his freedom?)/ Then in came another old friend—the Karrn keeper of Grapnel the Warforged.  It seemed we were in for a bit of a grudge match in more ways than one! The monstrous crowds murmured, cheered, and roared at different times.

Then another human entered, in priestly robes.  He was a strange sight to see, weapons in each hand—a gleaming warhammer, and a well-worn axe—with the symbol of the Sovereign Host on his armor, but damaged.  Any thoughts on him not belonging vanished as a wind whipped at the hem of his robes and kicked up dust. He stood by the pillar with the harpy on it, glaring at the orc. The entire battle, he was fixated on that orc! 

Next in was Grapnel, who took his familiar place by the Karrn.  The final two combatants were a dagger-wielding woman ("Seera Arees, the Deceiver of Sharn") and a drow in simple robes—the first drow we've seen since Xoma!  The harpy then said there was only one rule—do not leave the arena. To leave is to forfeit your possessions.  I had no intention of giving anyone the pleasure of my blades, unless it was running them through!

The harpy announcer called out, “Welcome, residents of Graywall...to the Bone Storm!” She sung out in a lovely, powerful voice. The crowds roared their elation. “There is but a single rule: If you exit the arena, you have lost, and you surrender all your possessions to Salan immediately. It is the only way to exit with your life.” Salan appeared to be a lycanthrope, a dark-furred rat-like humanoid in black leather armor and a bow in hand. “The Storm ends when all but one remains, or when Xorchyllic deems it ended.”

The harpy then flew off, and the pillar began to descend, then slid into the rock, revealing a pit of spikes in the center. While no one moved yet, perhaps awaiting a signal, Cypher bestowed magical infusions to my sword and armor, and to Magnus’s dragon-bone weapon and himself, while Doongul bestowed the power of Onatar on us. The other combatants began shifting positions, and so it was time to act!  Wisely the human cleric—"Kard of Cyre" they'd named him—moved from between us and Zurin Souldrinker and went for the goblin trio, skirting around whatever was in the pit.  He delivered a crushing blow to the chest of one of the goblins.

I stepped forward from the group, now with a clear shot at the oni.  He was huge, towering over me, and as much as I wanted him dead, I also wanted to not fall into the spiked pit. I chucked a hand axe at him, hoping to goad him into a reckless charge. But the oni had a powerful magic—my axe hit true, but in the blink of an eye the oni and swapped places with the hobgoblin, which my axe hit instead. Glad I didn’t charge, I stepped back, waiting.

Doongul called on the power of his god’s thunder to smite the oni.  One of the goblins was killed in the blast, but Zurin took a hit as well.  Magnus moved to fight our foe after chucking a spear, while my new hobgoblin friend charged me.

It was decending into a brawl, with Kard sparring with the goblins daggers, and Grapnel and his Karrn commander teaming up on whoever they could.  A flaming sphere materialized near Kard, who was probably regretting standing in the midst of the fray. 

The hobgoblin who charged me would regret that—with a swing of my longsword I cut him nearly in twain. The byeshk scimitar did the rest of the job in a second swing.  Then I was aware of an arrow, slick with some sort of poison bouncing off my armor as Cypher’s overcharged frost ray shot wildly. Fortunately it fizzled before hitting the crowd! 

Xoma set to duel with his fellow drow—a monk of the Mockery!?—while the sickly human warrior tried to hit me with his sword. I had hoped to leave him alone—he was possibly a mistreated prisoner—but he left me with little choice. I struck him down with strikes from both my swords, to see Magnus again on his feet against Zurin. The oni then enveloped Magnus, Doongul, Cypher and myself in a strange green cloud, which he'd spew from his open mouth.  Cypher and I withstood it, but Magnus and Doongul dropped, seeming unconscious. This did not feel like poison, but it was certainly debilitating. 

Sounds of combat continued all around us. Kard was pushing the hobgoblin sorcerer off into a corner with the woman, having a measure of success though the sorcerer had sent the human slipping to the ground more than once with a grease spell—an old trick of Halbazar's....  Meanwhile, Xoma seemed a blur around the arena, often seeming to fade in and out of existence on the power of one of his spells. Fortunately, Doongul and Magnus were not out for long, they woke just in time for the oni to transform into a noxious green cloud and pass over Magnus and I and away from us.

I was then parrying a blow from our Karrn friend, who was bidding Grapnel to aid him. Grapnel moved to flank me but did not attack—perhaps we were getting through to him after all. My final words to the Karrn were “Fight your own battles,” while Magnus crushed him with a blow from the dragon-bone mace.  Grapnel seemed to be worried, perhaps uncertain, as his commander went crashing to the ground. Maybe for the first time he considered a choice his own to make?

But we weren't done. Zurin Souldrinker rematerialized from his cloud form as Xoma blinked back into existence. Xoma quickly maneuvered so that with a single spell, he knocked the oni  out over the edge of the arena. He vanished into the currents of powder. Just then Kard killed the hobgoblin mage he had been squaring off with.  It seemed all was under control, until a vapor rose up from the shriveling corpse of the sickly man. It quickly became a tall figure in ornate Dhakaani armor. Cypher was quick to fire a ray of frost at this figure, which seemed to be our vampire, hobgoblin friend from underground—the one who'd followed us from those Khyber-like depths beneath Paluur Draal.  At this time, a medusa walked up the entrance tunnel and tossed a white object over the fire toward the pit, saying simple “the prize.” It appeared to be some sort of ivory wand. I didn't really pay attention to it beyond that moment.

Unfortunately I was in no position deal with either the "prize" or the vampire with an ogre in my face.  I implored Grapnel to help, careful to ask and not order him.  I then move to work with Magnus on taking down the Ogre but before I have a chance a cold wind slashes at me. I parry while the figure in the goblin armor glares intently at me, glowing red eyes focused on me.

Magnus was quick to bring down the ogre, before Grapnel was even able to swing. Instead Grapnel then stepped back, pointed his weapon at the vampire and asked, “Who is this?” My tongue was quick with the response “An enemy,” and began to shuffle the byeshk scimitar to my right hand to properly swing at this creature.

But my mind began to slow. Looking into the eyes of the vampire, I am sorry to say, somehow convinced me that this foul, undead creature was a trust worthyindividual. Somehow...I had been wrong about him. He reached his scimitar out and said, “Trade with me.” I simply could not come up with a good reason why not … it would be like Magnus asking for my sword. Clearly he needed it or he wouldn’t be asking, and I still had the longsword Cypher infused for me. So I traded.

But if only that were the end of it! I actively tried to hold back others that would harm the vampire. I tried to grapple Magnus to keep him away, I asked why we were attacking this noble warrior...I was thoroughly confused. Magnus turned his rage on the Dhakaani vampire. A fearsome blow from his dragon-bone maul caved in a portion of the plate armor and wounded the vampire, though it was clear he had regenerative powers. By the time I snapped out of it, it was too late—the vampire transformed into mist, and floated off the arena's edge and away…still with my byeshk scimitar. Doongul ran forward and called on Onatar to turn it back further, and the divine power seemed to disperse the mist. What became of it then none of us knew. Fortunately, my confusion regarding the vampire washed away soon after.

But Magnus was still angry, so he waded back into what remained of the fray. I looked toward where the "prize" had been tossed just in time to see a drow female—was this the woman, the "Deceiver of Sharn"—fall from a blow from the barbarian's great maul. It might have been an illusion, she seemed able to change forms at least as easily as a changeling. At this time, she could have been Xoma's twin sister. Exotic and beautiful, with long white hair. But now she was crumpled to the ground.

I also saw the lower half of the orc—the one Kard was fixated on—with his upper half obscured by a sphere of magical darkness, the origin of which I assume was Xoma. Cypher and Doongul had been fighting the orc, with Kard coming in from behind, and soon the orc dropped to the ground. Kard, heeding nothing else in the arena, kneeled on the dying warrior's chest, said something I took to be quite serious, then killed him savagely, sinking his hand axe deep in the orc's head.

I saw the human cleric then enact a spell, not anything I'd seen before, and it seemed he then began to speak to the orc's corpse...

Then the mind flayer, Xorchyllic—the ruler of this city—spoke a command which it seemed everyone could hear in their minds: One more must die. All who remained now were our group, the warrior-priest Kard, and the warforged Grapnel. It was apparent that an ally might have to go down now in order to end this fight.

Magnus, still in his rage, decided for us. He moved right over to Grapnel and dented his frame badly with a mighty swing of his maul. I can only imagine that Grapnel's confusion was as great as that wound. His master had fallen and we had been sympathetic to him, had tried to ally with him, and now Magnus had made him an opponent again.

Just then a green vapor rose from the sides of the arena and took shape. It seemed Zurin Souldrinker, was not finished yet! As the oni reformed, he looked up to the mind flayer and said “Just one more? How about six?” Clearly we were the six Zurin had in mind. With a foul prayer to the Mockery, he even summoned a pair of massive, ugly dogs who barked fire from their gullets. Hell hounds!

Battle was renewed. Kard reluctantly set aside his "conversation" with the dead orc—what was that all about?—and helped us against a common foe. Even Grapnel lent us his aid, wielding a halberd to good effect. We wounded Zurin Souldrinker repeatedly and slew the two hell hounds, who barked fire, as quickly as possible. Though he regenerated his wounds almost as swiftly as the vampire had, it was clear we were wearing him down.

Zurin belched another sleep-inducing cloud over us, and Magnus dropped like a rag doll. The oni loomed over him and started to breath in disturbingly...energy from Magnus's unconscious form seemed to leech up and out of him.

Grapnel regarded the helpless form of the barbarian, raised his weapon, but moved away from him and turned his attention fully on the oni. At last, before Zurin could drink Magnus's soul, we brought him down with spells and blades. As the oni died, disturbing screams and strange smokes roiled from his body, dispersing in the air. We could only hope Trug's was in there somewhere, and had been freed.

Waiting for no one, Kard immediately turned back to the dead orc and resumed his...interrogation. Only later could I piece together what was spoken. The human had enacted a divine spell to speak with the dead, and he'd been seeking information from the orc.

These were the orc's answers, spoken from a damaged, freshly-dead throat. I did not hear all the questions, but I was able to piece together the orc's answers.

• “I was ordered to transport a unique construct to Eston.”
• “Heldran d’Cannith."
• “I do not know.”
• “The construct was designed by Baron Merrix; its purpose I do not know.”
• "I was dismissed. My commander said I would not be able to find the warforged Claviger.”

Whatever any of that meant—and whatever the cleric's questions had been about—we were all left standing, exhausted but seemingly victorious. The crowds, while largely dismayed by our survival and the defeat of many monsters, seemed to have been entertained and were somewhat satisfied.

Now what?

#40 - Blood and Sand (and Blood)

As told by Magnus of the Island of Seren.

These Arena fights reminded me of the fireside brawls on Seren.

Everybody knows who will fight, there are some loose rules and then a good bashing where killing is the second best outcome. I hadn’t really thought there would be prize money though. I guess city people do everything for money, it’s hard to eat fame.

Anyway, we were all slated to get into the Graywall Arena and fight, our goal was to win the favor of some Brelish ex-general named Darveshek. The way to impress him and earn his favor was to kill a fire-resistant troll. Come to think of it, that would impress most folks anywhere. The Arena was to have some other monsters to make it interesting—well, the fight was called the Giant's Ring. The crowds were jaded and needed a lot to keep them happy. We went through the ritual of getting rid of our extra stuff. The rules said no weapons but there was some system of getting weapons into the ring to keep it bloody. We left our weapons out, but kept them with the medusas for the next fight in the same night, where we could bring our stuff in. We did drink some potions to boost us up a bit for the fight, and Cypher used some artificer trick to summon one of his wands for use in the Arena, to get it past the checkpoint.

We made it into the ring. There was a troll to be sure, big and sorta funny looking, too knotty and red to match up with what I had heard. There were two ogres and a gnoll, which was fine by me. Then a minotaur and a hill giant which looked like fun, assuming I could get a weapon. Luckily, there was a pile of weapons in the center of the arena floor.

The mind flayer who governed the city was also in attendance—a tall figure, man-shaped but absolutely not a man. Head like a giant squid of the Dragonreach. Snaking tentacles. Creepy.

In the first few minutes of the fight, the pile of weapons on the floor started to rise up on a pillar, out of reach—though Rendar started to climb to get them, aided by a potion Cypher had brewed that gave him as fit as a Seren. The troll got into an alcove on the arena wall, and then arena workers on the sides tossed him a greatsword. This could get ugly. But first the troll lops off an ogre’s head. Good one!

Cypher cleverly bopped over to the other alcove and someone hands him a military pick—a gift from the general, we think—which even more cleverly, he handed to me. I flew into a rage and killed the other ogre, stepping right over his corpse to get at the crazy troll.

While all this goes on, Xoma souped himself up somehow and I couldn't actually see him clearly anymore—some wizard's spell of blurring. Doongul found with some experimentation that the chains suspended above the arena floor could teleport the puller to one of the other three chains. Good to know!


Cypher zipped a bolt from his arm-bow into the minotaur’s neck just as the beast receives a battleaxe from the crowd, then the minotaur whirls to join the fight. Rendar had gotten up to the weapons—now 50 feet up—and tossed a shield and morningstar to Doongul. (Good way to keep the dwarf alive!). Rendar kept a throwing axe and longsword for himself.

I wound up and bashed the troll on the shoulder, and it was a perfect swing....and the military pick I'd been given burned with magic fire when I swung it. The result was a troll arm on the floor wriggling about. That could slow that two-handed greatsword down! It would me, too.

The minotaur roared and tried to hit Xoma and misses (the elf was blurry and hard to see). Then the hill giant popped Cypher with a thrown rock, denting him up bad. The gnoll misfired at Rendar who was now armed and trying to climb down the pillar with a longsword tucked through his belt. Something teeny hit me in the back—a sling stone?

Xoma zapped the minotaur with his electric grasp and then zipped away while the minotaur was stunned. Cypher disappeared from sight; good idea considering how that thrown rock smashed him up good. Somehow, a goblin flew out from the crowd in the stands above and smashed bodily into the pillar, bones breaking, only to crumble to the arena floor. I had no idea what that was about, but I later learned that the goblin had slung the stone into me, and I guess that was his punishment.

The troll tore into me with teeth and claws (the arm on the ground actually attacked me, too). I mashed him with the pick again. I was pretty sure I was gaining on his regenerating, but his wounds closed up fast.
The minotaur charged Xoma with head down, intending to gore him, big, fast and scary.  Xoma wiggled his fingers and muttered and the minotaur seemed to smash into an invisible wall, breaking one of his horns. It is hard to kill Xoma.

The giant flung a stone at the gnoll, missing wildly. The gnoll shot at Rendar, but he missed also. Xoma did his thunder spell and the minotaur started to look tattered. Then shocked him again and scooted away. Rendar was halfway down the pillar now.

The troll came after me again (his arm was growing back, fast!) He made contact but I was so fired up and sweaty, his attacks didn't hurt too much. When I made another perfect swing, his other arm came off and started wriggling around in the sand. I was really starting to like this pick thing.

The minotaur charged Xoma again, swinging his ax and missing, busting the thing into the stone floor. I was starting to think Xoma might kill this guy single-handedly. The hill giant had gotten into the alcove and someone from the stands tossed him a big, metal-banded club. This was bad news for us.

The gnoll moved around and shot Rendar, who was up on the pillar still. Xoma stepped up to the minotaur again and gave him another shock. The minotaur seemed done-in and dropped to his knees. Xoma gave him a push and the big guy drops. I couldn't hear the crowd roaring, but they were.

Doongul pivoted and blasted the troll with his magic thunder. Something changed the glow on the found morning star to another color/sheen as Cypher appeared next to Doongul. Rendar hopped down from the pillar and made an off-handed throw at the troll with his found hand ax, it sailed by.

The regenerating troll yelled to the hill giant “KILL this one!” Meaning me, fun. I swung at him and missed and the giant swungs at me and missed. The gnoll shots at Xoma, missed, and Xoma shot back with some poison missile spell. Doongul ripped into the troll with his glowing morning star, leaving a nasty, messy wound with some eroding power. That gash didn't seem to be growing back.

Cypher zipped a bolt at the gnoll, sending him stumbling. Rendar smashed the troll's armor with his sword, spreading frost where it hit. The troll used its nasty mouth to grab one of the teleporting chains, then vanished, reappearing over by Xoma.

I smashed the hill giant in the belly with another sweet swing of the pick, leaving a nasty bleeding wound. He smashed me with his maul and the pain of that hit penetrated my rage. Then an arrow hit me in the back—the gnoll's work. I was starting to weaken.

Xoma stepped quickly away from the troll, dodges his chomp, then turned and blasted him with a spell he had prepped special for him. It hurt, but didn't seem like Xoma’s usual killer stuff. Doongul fired his new spring-foot but he seemed to trip and landed upended in the sand.

Cypher zipped another bolt into the gnoll, and all those shots had to be hurting him by then. Rendar swungs in to flank the hill giant with me and frosts him up good with the sword.

The troll screamed, “I will not be slain by a damned DROW!” and gnashes at Xoma with his fang-filled mouth, missing. That spell of Xoma’s seemed to get going now and the troll’s flesh starts to melt from his bones and then he sort of bursted into flame. I'm not sure if it was Xoma's spell or the troll's own messed-up body, but the explosion of fiery blood scorched Cypher and Xoma both. And yes, he was killed by a damned Drow.  Hah!

I mashed the giant, who screams and smashes me back. I was truly hurting now, and then the gods-damned gnoll shot me again. Xoma pivoted and popped another poison missile into the hyena-headed archer. I felt one of Doongul’s healing spells fixing me up.

Cypher shot the gnoll again, forcing him to move about. Rendar sliced into the hill giant, leaving a vicious frozen gash. The hill giant roars and that was when I slammed the pick into him again. He fell like a big tree and Rendar had to leap away to avoid being klonked with the giant’s unconscious head.

A strong voice in my head said CEASE!

Since the big foes were down, the rage recedes and so I stepped aside to cool off. The gnoll, ragged and bleeding, leaned against the rim of the arena floor, gasping for breath. Rendar gathered his thrown axe and Xoma moved over to join us. Cypher, ignoring the magical voice that I think we all could hear, reached down and does one of those energy grasps on one of the wiggling troll arms. He was suddenly picked up and hurled against the central pillar and pinned there by some unseen force and then dropped to the sandy floor. It seemed to me that when a mind flayer says “cease,” you should cease.

The pillar dropped to our level and kept going down into the ground. Xoma went over to check it out and Cypher joined him. The head-voice asked, Do you fight as a team?

I think “yes." After a minute, the pillar came up again with a bag and a chest. Xoma looked at us and pulled the chest open—full of gold.

We dropped the weapons when instructed. An ogre dragged our reward-chest off to the side. The gnoll took the bag and seemed pleased with it after peering inside. We were lead to some chambers to re-unite with Drix. We rested for a while, bandaged ourselves, and shared notes a bit. Again, the sense of becoming empowered flows over us. We have become stronger.

I think we are getting the hang of this arena stuff….

#39 - Night Hag Alley

Here the narrative is again written by Xoma of the M’jai family, drow wizard of Xen'drik.

* * *

I was secretly thrilled when Sa-Jira indicated that she had ascertained the location of Jabra, the mysterious night hag known for her expertise in all things alchemical and arcane. The young medusa led us to an alleyway in the district known as Sar Kuraath, or Little Graywall, which houses the city's smaller citizens—chiefly, goblins and kobolds. In its depths, a rustic tent was occupied by an old woman. Sa-Jira was clearly uninterested in meeting Jabra—and indeed seemed angry with Rendar for some recent lack of attention—and left the moment we reached Jabra's tent.

The old woman, who seemed nothing more than a human crone working in the shadows of the tent, did little more than shuffle along inside. Cypher was unsure of himself and my warrior companions were out of their element. Without delay, I walked through the open flap.

The interior of the tent in no way matched the exterior. After entering, I found myself in a swamp. Damp, dim, though still somewhat stifling and smelling as much like a Graywall alley as a wetland. Across a field of standing water, wild grasses, and candles, stood Jabra. Her night hag nature was far more apparent here. Jabra still looked like an old woman, but was much taller, had the warty, hunched, horned features of a powerful blue-skinned hag of folklore.

I assumed that Jabra’s domain was an extradimensional space of some sort. The swampy appearance might be an illusion, or the space might simply be populated by whatever Jabra desires. The hag stood over a table covered in oddities of all sorts. A silver-plated ogre skull served as her cauldron. She looked at me and asked, "Why have you come?”

I was unsure of what would interest a hag, but I knew what I wanted. “I have come for magical scrolls.”

“Arcane?”

“Yes.”

Jabra said something to the effect of "I prefer barter over coins, and lives over barter. Can you offer any?” Though I could not offer lives, I knew I might have things I could offer instead of gold." She withdrew a coffer divided into two halves of rolled up scrolls. "I have a number of spells available. Peruse them and tell me what you can offer.”

Unable to read the magic at first glance, Jabra placed a bowl in front of me filled with brackish water, with disembodied eyeballs rolling at the bottom. She told me to rub the water on my own eyes, and I did so, unfazed. Instantly the arcane writing became clear, so I looked through the scrolls and found Jabra to have a moderately impressive selection—read magic, blur, melf’s acid arrow, protection from energy, blink, and the like. Finally, I showed her my Sul'atar flamebound boomerang, imagining that she might find a use for it. She seemed intrigued and said that I could pick two of the spells in exchange. She indicated that the owner of the boomerang wanted it back and was actively seeking me to get it. Evidently, she had the power to learn about the origins or previous owners of physical objects.

She also offered another spell if I revealed a secret of one of my companions. I thought about it for a moment. I didn't want to betray my current companions, but felt little compunction about revealing information about....

Well, later I would learn....Halbazar. I must have described the strange Aundairian sorcerer that my companions tell me had traveled with us for a time. The hag was intrigued. She informed me that she would have to see for herself by looking at the memory directly. I was nervous about having someone in his head, but intrigued about the hag’s magic, so I must have agreed.

Jabra brewed some variety of potion and had me consume it, though it tasted foul. I can only conclude that the concoction siphoned from my mind the memory in question. I came out of the stupor it imposed on me and found Jabra staring down at me, leaning close, smiling. I really couldn't remember the nature of the transaction at that point, but I accepted it. This was a night hag, after all. Her methods cannot be understood.

I hedged his bets. “So now you’re going to give me what I asked for?”

She gestured to the pile of scrolls. “Take one more.”

I chose a third scroll. I asked if she had any interest in gold. It clearly wasn’t her favorite thing, but it still had its uses. In exchange for 800 gold pieces, she let me choose one more spell.

Following that selection, I made my way out of the swamp. I assumed I could reach the exit simply by heading back the way I came, and I was correct. Had I been less groggy, I might of thought more about what had happened. I passed Cypher on his way in to visit Jabra, too, but said nothing to the warforged.

As soon as I left, I thought of one other item that might interest Jabra. I waited until Cypher was finished meeting with her, then went back in and showed her the goblin spellbook I had found in a laboratory in the ancient underground ruins of Darguun, near Paluur Draal. Jabra was interested, but skeptical that I had returned.

“Is this a gift?” she asked.

I hadn’t planned on giving it as a gift, but it seemed like a good idea. “Yes, it is.” She seemed pleased. I started to walk out, but she called out to me. “Then I will give you a gift as well. For several days, you and your companions have been followed by an armored warrior who traverses the rooftops as easily as a cat burglar.”

I thought it might be the drow I had seen in the stands at the Six Stones competition. Jabra now had the boomerang, so it was her problem.

* * *

Cypher proceeded in to speak with Jabra and had a similar experience—though his manner, and the information given to him, was quite different than Xoma's. For knowledge, he traded the Cyran backback and its contents—including Rungo, the stuffed bear—which Jabra immediately and deliciously identified as belonging to a "father and daughter." Unconcerned by this, Cypher received information about the schema he'd been carrying around—the one found inside the body of the warforged Claviger.

According to the night hag, the schema itself was used in or around the Mournland, but likely before the Day of Mourning.

* * *

Leaving the night hag behind, the PCs made their way out of Little Graywall and returned to the Temple of the Shadow, where Zerasha and Drix prepared them for the first night of Long Shadows, the holiday where evil magic is said to be greatest, where the powers of darkness are stronger. They left their weapons behind and went to the Arena, ready to fight in the Giant's Ring.

#38 - The Calm Before the (Bone) Storm

Here the narrative is again written by Xoma of the M’jai family, drow wizard of Xen'drik.

* * *

After we awoke from our petrification and subsequent shadowy vision, Magnus, Cypher, Rendar, and I found ourselves back in the map room with Drix (in drow form), Zerasha, and the maedar Hajda. We awoke with deep brands in our palms—depicting a twisted tower sigil, quite like the symbol of the Shadow. These must have been carved into our forms while we were stone for such scarification to a living being could result in significant damage and perhaps loss of limb.

Neither Magnus nor I are new to tattoos, but I suspect that Cypher and Rendar were somewhat unnerved to find themselves marked by the Shadow. As a creature of shadow already, it didn’t faze me. I suspect that Doongul is relieved that he didn’t go with us—I doubt Onatar would be pleased if the dwarf had been marked in such a way.

After everyone had some time to rest, Zerasha revealed to us the results of her vision. She indicated that one of the members of the Winter Coalition, which had formed during the Age of Demons was still alive—perhaps through some sort of magical longevity—and that there were three locations significant in some way to the Winter Coalition itself. She believed we would be able to contact this being at one of these sites. Her divination revealed him to be humanoid, though she was unsure of what race.

The three locations are as follows:

• A mountain among the Starpeaks, in northern Aundair. The Starpeaks also happens to be the location of the Starpeaks Observatory, a facility of Aundair's Arcane Congress.
• The ruins of Mar'saval in the lawless jungle-and-swamp frontier of Q’Barra in southeastern Khorvaire.
• The Boneyard, an ancient dragon cemetery or battle site in a valley at the eastern border of the Talenta Plains.

Of the three, Q’Barra seemed least interesting to me. Both the Arcane Congress and the Boneyard contained potential sources of power and knowledge. Q’Barra, while wild and perhaps a bit fun, seemed less intriguing. We discussed the notion of taking a sea vessel from Sharn. This would have many advantages, allowing us to consult another Shadow priestess and visit libraries in the City of Towers, and also commandeer a ship. By ship, we could stop at Korranberg to consult allies and their great library, then take to sea again to land in the port of Aerie in Valenar, which is approximately equidistant between Q’Barra and the Boneyard, allowing us to travel to either.

But then we recalled that there was a strong connection to the Winter Coalition and the Arcane Congress . That seemed to indicate that a trip to Arcanix might be the first order of business. I’m not sure we’ve settled on a final decision.

Drix and Zerasha explained the nature of the three arena tournaments on the first night of the Long Shadows holiday. The first, the Giants' Ring, is a battle involving larger combatants, which seemed wise to avoid; the second involves more bestial creatures in a cavelike environment; and the third is a free-for-all with many participants (including the reviled oni, Zurin Souldrinker, who stole poor Trug’s soul) know as the Bone Storm.

Zerasha indicated that we also possessed three tools that could aid us in our journey: "the bone, the blade, and the key." She said that we already had these in our possession. The bone was the mammoth dragonbone club that Magnus took as a trophy from the vile bugbear that we fought in the temple of the Mockery. The blade was likely the byeshk scimitar that we located during our explorations of the ruins of Darguun. We are unsure of the nature of the key as Zerasha indicated that it was not the same as "the goblin's key" (the Emperor's Key, as we know it).

We spent a great deal of time discussing items that could be the key. Cypher in particular, enjoyed pontificating on the subject, though they is nothing new about that.

The remainder of the first night after we awoke was spent performing a variety of tasks related to shopping and preparations for our rumble in the arena. We went back to the forge to speak with Szalas Jal and his artifice partner about items that might be the key. Cypher bartered for some more artificer trinkets, Rendar exchanged his Karnnathi armor for less conspicuous protection; and Cypher finished work on his mechanical dog. He has named the metal beast Rungo. Like his bear hat.

After some discussion, we agreed to sell the dragonshard from the Sky Talon to the elven artificer, Ravid. Magnus used his portion of the money and some borrowed from others to purchase a magical ring of protecction from the oni smith, similar to the one I wear. The smith indicated that I might find scrolls and alchemical substances by consulting with the night hag Jabra, but she is a mysterious creature who is difficult to find.

We left the smithy and conferred with Drix. She said that she could probably find Jabra and also gave us advice and information on locating some potential patrons.

We had a run-in with the elder Karrn and the warforged Grapnel, yet again. The unpleasant human made it clear that he believed Grapnel to be his property and that the edict freeing the warforged race was propaganda that did not apply here. It seemed like he had conditioned Grapnel to believe that he had no independent status and that those of other nations were liars if they asserted otherwise.

Grapnel seemed confused but likely is common with members of his ‘race,’ it was difficult for him to question authority. It did not help that Cypher admitted to using a pseudonym in the arena, only enforcing Grapnel’s belief that foreigners lie.

I suspect that the warforged simply isn’t very bright, but that does not mean that he deserves to be a slave. The key will be to convince him that his masters are the ones who are lying, not us. That may be impossible, but it’s worth at least a few more efforts. We nearly came to blows with the Karrn over the situation, but a fight for Grapnel seemed ill-advised, at least until the warforged was convinced that he should fight for himself.

This reminds me of something that happened back home. There was a fern that grew in shady areas of the jungle known as Hwa’quok. Some young Vulkoori enjoyed chewing the leaves of the fern because it dulled battle-pains, but it also made them stupid. It was easy to become dependent on the plant, rendering these warriors almost crippled. More than a few had to be cut down because they had become a drain or their tribes. Some could be convinced of their error, and recovered from it, but otherwise refused to deny that they had a problem. These poor individuals did not survive.

Grapnel is much like those addicted to Hwa’quok. He has a problem, but refuses to admit it or is unable to recognize it. Part of me thinks it would be a service to him if we cut him down. The other part feels that we need to intervene to help him because unlike the addicts, he has no capacity to break free from his shackles.

After our run in with the Karns and their warforged, we did a little more shopping. We planned to go to the Goblin Market, but before we did, we noticed that a human had been watching our encounter with the Karrns. We approached him and discovered that he was an agent of the Brelish general that had taken an interest in Cypher. He had a warforged arm and an eyepatch, which were intriguing to Cypher.

The man indicated that his master wished for Cypher to enter an arrangement of patronage. He would supply gold and other forms of assistance and all he wanted in return was that Cypher would enter the Giants' Ring event in the Arena and destroy the troll known as Fireshazz. The troll was said to be resistant to fire, unlike most of his kin, which would make the challenge that much more difficult. After some discussion, Cypher agreed to terms.

At the Goblin Market, we located some alchemical substances that could prove useful in our upcoming skirmish. In particular, we were interested in acid that could counteract the troll’s regeneration. Using a spell, I located a magical scroll. The goblin merchant had no idea what she had, so she sold it to me, along with a likely useless map, for 20 gold pieces. It proved to be a warding scroll, containing the spell of Alarm, which could help significantly in preventing ambushes while our party rests.

While we were in town, we also visited the halflings of Jorasco and Ghallanda, who were able to elaborate somewhat on the nature of the Boneyard and the Talenta Plains. They didn’t have much detail, but they did indicate that the area attracted aberrant creatures of Xoriat and occasionally living dragons became incensed if they discovered that their burials were being disturbed. We learned that the Talenta Plains really didn’t have any true settlements, which confirmed our suspicions that getting around there would be difficult.

At the House Sivis office, we sent a message via Speaking Stone to Wenrick in Korranberg, which went as follows:

Dear Wenrick,

We were pleased to hear that you and the gnomes arrived safely in Korranberg. We have been traveling, pursuing information about our quest and “the item.”

We are concerned about the repercussions of the news story about our activities in the Korranberg Chronicle. We were hoping you might be able to spread the word of our benevolent nature, with the subtlety in which your people are so well known.

It is likely that we will be back in Korranberg sometime in the next few months. I am not sure when, but we are concerned about attracting unwanted attention. Our party was initially ambushed in the city, so we know that it is likely that there will be eyes watching out for us. We would greatly appreciate it if you could find a safe place for us to stay when we arrive, even if it is on short notice. 
While we are in Korranberg, our primary goal is to get into the great library, preferably without attracting much attention. We have much we need to research, but it will be difficult if we are rushed and harried. 

We hope you are well and feel truly sorry for the hardships that have befallen you. We appreciate any assistance you can provide to us and are grateful for the discretion you have shown. 

We will attempt to contact you if we have more news on when we might be in your region. Until then, we wish you the best.

Skla-Um-Fet (a drow expression…it roughly translates to “Don’t Die.),

Xoma

#37 - The Sixth Stone

"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w0Yse6Pxrmo"

The game raged on, surprisingly long. Both opposing humans were eventually petrified by the basilisk's gaze. The older of the two Karrns, the one announced as Captain Arlen, resisted the longest. The monstrous crowds around the Arena cheered the "stoning" of the Five Nations humans.

Grapnel, the Karrnathi warforged—who seemed vaguely apologetic of his actions—persisted. Although he had begun to seize up under the stiffening glare of the magical lizard, he held very still—as still as only a construct can—and after a few moments, it seemed to fool the basilisk into thinking that he'd already turned to stone. It turned away from him, and soon he rose again, safe from its eyes.

The basilisk pursued Magnus next. Cypher, Xoma, and Magnus played in an ever-shifting dance against the increasingly aggressive Grapnel. The warforged was mighty—physically at least as strong as Magnus, and broader by far—and finally locked Cypher in a vicelike grip, forcing the other warforged to face the basilisk. Cypher tried to appeal to him, to establish a camaraderie, but Grapnel kept insisting, "I do not understand. I have orders." That Grapnel still obeyed commands from the two Karrns—even though they were stone—was remarkable.

Eventually, Cypher was beyond help, and a statue he became. The crowd roared approval, enjoying the warforged vs. warforged struggle. With a snarl of satisfaction, the basilisk turned away to pursue those that remained: drow, human, and warforged.

Xoma and Magnus struggled against one another convincingly, even as they evaded and tried to keep from allowing Grapnel to bind them. But the large wareforged was clearly a threat, and Magnus took him head-on. The two locked arms, twisted, broke apart, and engaged again, even as Xoma darted in, lashed with the rope he'd been carrying, and even attempted to leap upon the construct's back.

But despite his rage, even Magnus found himself clasped in the warforged's unyielding grip and turned to the basilisk, who dogged them repeatedly. The Seren barbarian, seized in its gaze, chanted something from his language, which Xoma understood to sound like death rites of his culture. But it wasn't death that claimed Magnus—simply stasis and stony oblivion.

Then Xoma remained. He was determined to draw out the fight, even though it seemed inevitable that Grapnel would overtake him. The crowd seemed pleased with the spectacle, and by the time Xoma was crouched, half folded up by the warforged's powerful arms, he saw a dark-skinned figure on the edge of the crowd, watching the final moments play out. The basilisk's blue-eyed and baleful glare coaxed him in to stone, but the Xen'drik dark elf resisted for half a minute before submitting to darkness and the end of the game of Six Stones. The last standing "man" was a warforged, but none of the PCs would hear the Arena's reaction.

Instead, they found themselves in what they later understood—and even then believed—to be a vision. Another vision under the auspices of the Shadow:

Only four of them—Rendar, Cypher, Xoma, and Magnus—trapped in a chamber. Dim, with sourceless light, in a subterranean space. Cracks in the floor disappeared into a mist-oozing chasm. In the center of the room was a twisted, obsidian pillar shaped much like the Shadow's own symbol. In a shelf within it, a glowing red orb.

A voice whispered in their minds:

The first to claim the orb will receive lasting power. The first to exit this chamber will claim power from a fallen enemy.

They experimented and debated and tried to explore the area, but eventually it as Xoma who claimed the orb—and it seemed to grant him the power of flight. When Rendar discovered a hidden door in one wall, they also spied the word SACRIFICE carved in Draconic upon it. After a bloody experiment in opening it, the seeming death of Rendar and/or Xoma led to the opening of the door. It was Cypher who exited first....

At which point the entire vision ended. Damnable Shadow visions.

The PCs found themselves reverting back to flesh inside the Temple of the Eye. Zerasha the oracle and priestess lay on the floor, shivering and covered in frost. Seeming exhausted from the ritual she'd performed on them while they were in stone form. She climbed to her feet and said, "My divination was somewhat successful, but I have been...noticed. There is a surviving member of the Winter Coalition. A male, I think."

Sa-Jira the young medusa ran forward to attend to Rendar and help him stand again. Drix, lounging in the form of a female drow, watched from a nearby sofa. Hajda, the maeder, watched impassively. Doongul was present now, and had obviously successfully overseen the safe transfer of their statue forms, but had not been present in the Shadow's "dream."

That's when the PCs noticed that a symbol had been etched, carved right through the skin (or metal, in the case of Cypher) of their left-hand palms: a symbol that sure looked like the Shadow's.

#36 - A Game of Six Stones

As told by Magnus of the Island of Seren.

Six Stones is a contest for monsters: A fight in an arena, where seven contestants enter and then the ringmasters introduce a basilisk. The seven compete to force each other to meet the basilisk's eyes, which can turn one quite literally into stone. Once there are six stones, the last remaining man is the victor.

No weapons, no spells, lots of trickery and brute force. For some reason, Zerasha the medusa priestess believed she could read our fates, and our connection to this "Winter Coalition" group, better if we "assume stone form," and that one good way to be stone was by basilisk. She promised that we could be turned back from stone again afterwards. Doongul was going to sit out the game and oversee the care of our stone selves. Until, of course, he gives in to a medusa's own gaze.

Everyone told me that if we participated in Six Stones, we could gain favor for the upcoming fight against the ogre mage—the oni leader of the Skinners gang—in another arena match next week. So all right, we’d do it.

We stored our valuables and weapons and armor and money and trinkets at the House Kundarak bank. The dwarves, I'm told, can be trusted with possessions. Everyone looked like a peeled shrimp without their armor and cloaks and stuff, except Cypher. He looked just about the same. Except that for some reason, he is deciding to wear a stuffed bear on his head, the one he got in that backpack prize from that gargoyle street fight a couple days ago. I am not sure I will ever even want to know what goes on in his head.

Anyway, lots of talking and pecking around to see if the rules are actually rules (they are). And more talking to find out if anyone will notice if the rules are broken (they will be). More talking about if there will be consequences for breaking the rules (there will be). Finally, they led us to the Arena.

The Arena was pretty big and dark. We head in and go through a mini version of what we all talked about before, except here, we all say “yes” about following the rules (was that so hard?). Drix tells us about some notables in the stands, folks who could give us favor in the bigger bout to come: Tharashk orc-kin, some human general, a goblin, I don't know. I wasn't really paying attention to her. No, wait, she also said there was someone named Misfit watching: a changeling "courtesan" from the brothels in Calabas. All right, I remember that one.

But whatever, just let us fight as best we can and let the crowd be pleased.

We went through a magic wand interview looking for smuggled magic. The only thing that showed up was Cypher’s bear on his head, which he made glow with some minor artificer magic. He turned it off, but kept wearing the silly thing.

Soon enough we were led out into the actual fighting space, and sent to our positions (which were marked by ghosts of us!). As we assumed our spots, the ghost images went away. So, it’s me, Cypher, Xoma, and Rendar—we’d agreed NOT to act as a team, better crowd pleasing that way. The other three were that giant warforged we'd met, Grapnel, and his two human Karnnathi keepers. Tough contest.

A medusa in red robes walked out and announced us each to the crowd, with not much cheering to follow.

1. "Sergeant Ved, human of Karrnath." Younger man.
2. "Captain Arlen, human of Karrnath." Older man.
3. "Grapnel, warforged of Karrnath." Big construct.
4. "Rungo, warforged of Breland." (Cypher had given the name of the damned stuffed bear.)
5. "Magnus of the Seren Isles." I tell it like it is.
6. "Xoma, dark elf and Vulkoori Lord of Xen'drik." Fancy.
7. "Lord Rendar Torinn d'Tharashk, of the Shadow Marches." The crowd liked him best. Must be the tusks.

The medusa announced that ours was a special “softskins” match (tell that to the warforged!) and then left. Then an ogre dragged a beat-up chest to the center of the ring and walked off. That hadn't been mentioned in the rules.

Without any warning, Xoma zipped over to the chest to be met there by Cypher. NO WAY were those two getting in there first, so I charged into Xoma, grabbed him and pushed us both into Cypher. Xoma wriggled free and Cypher punched him.  (That should've gotten the crowd to see that we were not a team).

One of the Karrns grabs me, and his buddy hides by the entry gate. Xoma swivels to open the chest, Rendar punches Grapnel, who didn’t seem to mind. Cypher pushed Xoma away from the chest and opened it up. I couldn't see what’s inside, but the drow and the warforged started grabbing. Grapnel, meanwhile, grabbed Rendar and pointed him towards the opening gate.

Enter the basilisk, a large, eight-legged lizard wearing a helmet (that covered its eyes)! Not yet able to turn us to stone. I grabbed the Karrn nearest me and dragged him towards the lizard. Xoma pulled a rope out of the chest and reached back in. Something in there was full of magical power and hit him with lightning hard enough for him to let go and back away fast.

This little Karrn wiggled free and ran away from me, his buddy staying quiet by the gate. Grapnel kept his hold on Rendar and started to twist his head toward the basilisk. Cypher reached for my Karrn and managed NOT to fall down after tripping on some sand (!?). Maybe he was blinded by the damn bear on his head.

At just about this time, some wand-waving happens and the basilisk’s helmet fells away. Primed and ready to petrify!  Don’t look.

I grabbed the other Karrn and he started wriggling, this old goat was wiry and tough! He turned around and got a hold on me, whispering some crap in my ear.

Xoma made a lasso with the rope over in the corner, he got some space and a few seconds to think—that would do him some good, I was betting. Rendar broke free of Grapnel and tried to get clear. The huge warforged just batted Rendar with a fist and grabbed him again. I think he was talking, too. Apologizing? But ouch, I could see he had a good arm. Cypher grabbed the nearest Karrn and the freaking basilisk pounds me with its tail. I couldn't break the hold this old man has on me and I was getting beat up to boot!

Xoma advanced and lassoed the clutch of arms and legs that was Cypher and the Karrn, but only Cypher was entangled and then Cypher was restrained by his foe. The other Karrn forced my head around and I stared unblinking into the eyes of the lizard. Its eyes were green and I got lost for a second, but I shook it off and kept struggling. The damned Karrn kept talking, telling me to give up. Ass.

Rendar and Grapnel were a blur of twisting holds and bulging muscle. Neither could get an advantage but steel should prevail unless Rendar could get some help. The basilisk mashed me again with a tail slap, ouch! I couldn't take it any more—rage overcame me, so I broke free of that damned Karrn. He tried to grab me again but NO WAY IN HELL KHYBER FERNIA SHIT.

Rather, I was pissed off and was not having any of that.

The second Karrn helps Grapnel with Rendar and together they bent his head and forced him to look at the lizard. Rendar growled and wiggled around as best he can—at least it took numbers to bear him down, good man—but it wasn't looking good. He started to stiffen up as the basilisk steps on his head and presses its face right in, staring back at Rendar.

Cypher tumbled out of the lasso, Xoma said something to him and they charged together, each holding an end of the rope, stretched taught between them. The Karrrn dodged but Grapnel was caught in the rope, clotheslined. The crowd seemed to enjoy this. Rendar keeps trying to twist away, but they held him too long enough. He resisted the petrification as long as he could. Grapnel pounded Rendar im the back with a metal fist, trying to break him. Rendar was resolute.

The basilisk bashed Cypher with claws and I punched the Karrn in my grip. He couldn't break free and now I had him looking at the basilisk.  I felt him stiffen. I heard the crowd yelling, even booing, and I looked up to see that Rendar—the one closest to all the monsters of this city—had left us. Turned to stone. The basilisk was climbing up the Rendar statue to glare at Grapnel next.

Xoma and Cypher tightened the rope and the basilisk got a good look at Grapnel, who started to stiffen up, too. Cypher got the other Karrn in a hold and pointed his head toward the basilisk. The man locked up, but neither warforged nor human was stone yet. Still, a few more seconds and it should be me against Cypher against Xoma.

My thought was: Who should I go after first?

#35 - A Troll, a Harpy, and an Opportunity

The night was still young. The PCs left the district of Calabas to return to the Tooth and Steel smithy, where more projects and item inquiries remained to be dealt with. They were shouldered and sneered at by the monstrous citizens of Graywall as they walked, but generally not accosted openly....

Until an ogre pushed roughly past them and moments later, Trug squealed something, shouting what was probably another goblin's name, then took off in a run into a side street. The others confusedly paused to see what had happened, and Xoma sent his bat-spirit familiar, Xots, into the air to locate the errant goblin. Xots reported that Trug had run through a series of streets in alleys in pursuit of another goblin...which then
suddenly became a much larger goblin or goblin-like creature. A trick or lure? Then he lost sight of Trug. The rest of the party gave chase.

Xoma, accustomed to swift movement in shadowed, stony streets—not entirely unlike the giant ruins of Xen'drik back home—was the first to find the junction where Trug had disappeared. There he found a pair of ogres arguing over a troll, who hunched nearby, a chain hanging between a collar on his neck and one of the ogre's hands. When Xoma drew closer, the three large humanoids gave up pretenses and attacked.

The drow hastened himself, then rose up with levitation even as the troll sprang forward and lunged for him. Then Xoma was beyond its reach, dropping a stinking cloud beneath him to envelop his sudden foes.

The others came on the scene, to see the ogres barreling through the noxious cloud, coughing and angry. A battle had begun. Magnus, Rendar, and Cypher came in first, with Doongul shortly behind them. The dwarf had not yet used his newly-upgraded peg-leg, but still running for him could still be an awkward show. The half-orc and human barbarian were the first to engage the ogres, while Xoma delivered a shocking grasp to one of the monsters courtesy of his flying familiar.

And that is when the harpies appeared, though only two, emerging from windows that overlooked the otherwise-empty street junction. One of them was Occyra, the harpy they'd fought (and who had escape) out on the plains beyond the city, only now her skin was noticeably hardened with barkskin. That previous encounter had established a marked enmity between Xoma and the harpy. According to Sa-Jira and Zerasha, Occyra was the second-in-command of a flight of harpies known as the Wind Howlers, who were well known for not aligning with the Daughters of Sora Kell. Evidently, she'd caught up to the PCs several days after their last meeting. Perhaps their many loud, riotous, and conspicuous battles had made them easy to find?


Occyra and the subordinate harpy unleashed the power of their voices. While they were hideous to look upon, their voices were deadly sweet and supernaturally entrancing. Cypher was stricken by Occyra's, while Rendar was immediately enraptured by the other's. Both half-orc and warforged immediately set out to climb the buildings up toward where the harpies were perched, specifically avoiding the noxious cloud of Xoma's spell. This left Magnus and Doongul to square off against the troll and remaining ogre—which took some time, as troll's famously regenerate their wounds.

Cypher shook off the effect's of Occyra's voice and climbed back down to the street, and when Rendar shrugged off his audible stupor, he took advantage of the higher ground and flung himself bodily at the troll from on high. He hoped to skewer it, but instead just crashed into it but managed to roll back quickly to his feet. Between human, dwarf, and half-orc, the troll and ogre went down. Doused with oil and set alight, the troll was kept from rising again.

Four goblin assailants revealed themselves, two loosing arrows from one side of the battlefield, while two others rushed from an alley and stabbed at both Cypher and Magnus. They dealt injury but were themselves quickly struck down.

Xoma, floating above the battlefield and closer in altitude to the harpies, used a web spell to keep Occyra from moving freely about or even from acting at all. They exchanged attacks, but even when she broke free, he sent her crashing to the cobblestones with a gust of wind spell. As she tried to flee on foot, too battered to fly, she conjured a spell that made the street sprout stony spikes, hindering her pursuit. However, the agile Cypher climbed alongside one of the buildings and reached her before she could limp away. With a swipe of a dagger, he slashed open the harpy's throat and ended the battle.

The second harpy proved no lasting threat. Two of the goblins had fled. They'd had no uniform or emblems to identify them, but were obviously aligned in some way to Occyra.

Using his Mark of Finding, Rendar was able to locate the missing Trug by homing in on his cloak: he'd be stashed in an alcove behind a crate in one of the nearby side streets. He was alive but not conscious, stiff but stricken by some power. His eyes were wide open but unseeing, strange straight cuts down his face, and in his mouth was stuffed a slip of paper on which was written, in elegant Goblin:

This is a message to the eastern thief-maggots who murder on a whim and hide in the shadows. Face me in the games on the first night of Long Shadows if you seek the absolution for your crimes and the return of your friend. Speak to Zerasha if my message is not clear.
                                                                                                                  - Z.S.

The PCs didn't know who Z.S. was (yet). And at first, they mistook "your friend" to be Halbazar, but later would learn it referred to Trug. While still alive, his soul was absent from his body, and his body could only be kept alive with effort. Doongul was not happy about this.

While the group looted the bodies, Xoma bore the dragged Occyra's body into the center of the street. There, to his companions' chagrin, he made a statement of triumph and contempt for his foe by "marking her" with his own urine. He intended to set her corpse on fire as well (like the still-smoldering troll), but Xots warned them that a band of armored trolls and gnolls were headed their way—members of the Flayer's Guard. Not worth encountering just now.

Carrying Trug's stiff body, they reached the Tooth and Steel without incident and there bargained with the oni smith Szala Jal again. There were yet many ways to spend their gold: creation of a homonculus for Cypher, enchanting Doongul's masterwork warhammer, recharging wands, and otherwise stocking up on magical resources. Szalas Jal also supplied them with a little bit more information:

Z.S. was Zurin Souldrinker, the oni who led the Skinners gang, roguish and religious thugs and killers who revered the Mockery. Gray Garrak, the bugbear the PCs had slain in the Temple of the Hand—and whose dragonbone maul Magnus now carried—had been one of the Skinners. The PCs had firmly made enemies of this gang, and Zurin Souldrinker obviously knew who they were now. Szalas Jal explained that Zurin was an oni of necromantic power—"with whom I have no quarrel"—who possessed the ability to suck the soul out of his victims. The only way for a soul to be freed was by Zurin's own volition...or his death. Zurin's demand that the PCs face him in "the games on the first night of Long Shadows"  meant to face him in the Arena on the 26th of Vult, which was one week away.

The choice was theirs: Either they allowed Trug to die by leaving his soul excised from his body, or else face Zurin's challenge "on the first night of Long Shadows." Doongul could not allow the goblin to perish, and even Xoma would not tolerate the idea of a creature, or its soul, enslaved by another.

Long Shadows itself is an infamous three-day holiday, wherein the Shadow's power is said to be strongest in the world. In many lands, it is a time to shut one's doors and windows and wait for the mayhem to pass. For others, it is an opportunity for mischief, or worse. In Graywall, whose citizens mostly revere or placate the Dark Six, it is sure to be celebrated by much of the populace, and will be reflected in the blood sports of the Arena.

Upon meeting with Zerasha, the medusa priestesss learned of what had happened and offered them new plan: She believed she had a means of learning more about the Winter Coalition, if indeed the PCs were part of its prophecy. But it required them to be transmuted into stone—such as that rendered by the gaze of a medusa—and then back into flesh again. She possessed the means to do this. But there was another way:

This very night, the Arena was hosting a few games of Six Stones—wherein seven participants enter an enclosure with a basilisk. Neither magic nor weapons can be used; each man must outlast the others. Seven men enter, but only six leave. He who is not turned to stone by the gaze of the basilisk is the winner. Zerasha said that Sa-Jira's mother, Sa-Zira, the ambassador from Cazhaak Draal, would be willing to sponsor them for their part in rescuing her daughter. If they could win the favor of the crowds, perhaps entering the Arena to face Zurin Souldrinker needn't be as hopeless at it sounds.

And if they lost in Six Stones, well, Zerasha needed them to be in stone form anyway....