Swords against Scarlor

Aboard the Frigate

2010-07-17T08:50:00.000-07:00

IT WAS A NYRIAN merchant-warship, dubbed 'Eramos' and Morganne was an indecipherable shadow that slipped soundlessly between crates, moving in the blind-spots of the sailors. All the while stealing the imagery from their minds like picking pockets in a bustling city-square. They were undergoing massive repairs and are in the midst of unloading a massive cargo of silks from some realm called Kara Tur, the far reaching eastern realms. Most of them were fatigued, worn out, and suffering from the effects of scurvy. Many had rotted yellow teeth and reeked to high heavens, only Morganne's discipline allowed her to stave off the urge to vomit and choke, barely. And the main deck was thick with the scent of fresh blood, from injured crew during a battle against Sindarian pirates.

She slipped deeper into the belly of the beast, below deck was scarcely populated. Her spectral vision monitored dark corners and doorways. Several times she paused and froze up, doorways opening up on her and loud stinky sailors emerging out of them. Most were armed to the teeth and had a masked tenseness beneath their casual veneer.

Finally she came upon a door she knew was the ship's pilots cabin, having just plucked that useful tidbit from the sailors she stole past. She picked the lock and knew that the pilot was not in his room but on shore somewhere. Once through the door, she closes it behind her. A spacious cabin with a simple round viewport, but the desk was meticulous and so was the rest of the interior to a fault. Somehow, you know the desk is particularly arranged and purposely done so as to the slightest disturbance would be easily detected. Finally you found the rutter, hidden in a secret compartment in the desk. The book has some fine hairs laid on top of it, also a secret trick to detect violation of its contents.

Morganne quickly breezes through the many pages of the book, most of is wording is in code but after a short while she gains the gist of it. Most are latitude coordinates, excruciatingly detailed notes and additional notes, routes taken to and from various waypoints, and predictions of planar gates and how to tell where they lead. Most useful are the gates that cut travel time in half, dubbed 'star gates' but they require a 'star gem' to activate and safely use them. It makes no mention of where to aquire such gems, however.

Ioz

2010-07-16T19:37:00.001-07:00

Before Morganne could rip Asp fully out of its scabbard, she was suddenly staring down the barrel of a pair of pistols Ioz held in her face. Ioz had a smug sneer in his face and says "That's good, oh that's real good. You draw on me again and I'll blast your pretty head off. You killed demons eh lass? I've kilt some demons too, I've sailed the unholy waters of the nine hells and treaded demoniac seas so don't boast to me about what you've slain it doesn't impress. I've laid siege to coastal ports and looted them properly, and broadsided Nyrian merchant-war ships with such mastery as to claim them from one pass. I command the best crew in all the inner kingdom, and your liege's offering? What is that but a pittance compared to what I have in my store? It's just enough to tolerate your stupidity but barely" he removes the dagger and tosses it aside. Moving past, he pauses long enough to fart, which gains the attention of the door guards. He adds "I know you will, and you'll do it real nicely too"

Corealus

2010-07-11T10:41:00.001-07:00

Morganne flew rapidly, and while in the air caressed the succundus clasp to analyze the psychic residual imprints it contained. Through it, she could scrub through the last stages of the battle. She saw herself being struck down by some vicious sword-blows by of the 10's fighters who had protected their seductress sorceress, a beautiful raven haired young woman with fierce eyes, ample cleavage and a body for sin that would reduce the will of kings and emperors to nothing. As Orath stated Ulric slew the two fighters and took out a third, the invisible sniper with a javelin thrust so accurate as to make the elves stupefied and totally impressed. You gain new insight and see the look on the female sorceresses eyes as the spear pierced the bowman dead. In the terrible wrath the sorceress, her face full of genuine tears uttered a terrible word of power that slew Ulric with its ancient magic, a mightily fell power word-kill spell. It was perhaps merciful in its quickness.

Fast forwarding you see the 10, reduced to 7 escorting Beatrice, Reimos, Gray, and the rest. Strangely, the members of the 10 seemed almost delicate and careful in the handling of their new prisoners. Afterwards Orath, badly injured and looking to be nearing death is standing on a cut tree-trunk, a noose around his neck. Eventually even his discipline crumbles and the block tumbles, his face turns beat red as he suffocates. Hethron comes conscious and looking around, the ranger grabs a spear and slices Orath down.

You spot the farm that Orath noted. It has been burned down to a cinder and you realize this was the place that the bandit you killed had his evil fun in. Most of the horses are not fit for long distance traveling so you opt to fly to Corealus instead.

After an hour you spot the teaming walls of the royal capitol, and the royal palace's high turrets and its surrounding moat visible from your high altitude. The keen damper vision, once disturbed by sunlight seems to have adapted and is able to withstand its darkening effect on your eyesight. Once you come in close a giant hand materializes in front of you, snatches you out of the air and drags you easily to the front gate. Before you is a brown haired man dressed in the arcane robes of a magic-user, who waves and smiles at you, noting your impressive comeliness he seems to have a more courteous disposition "Begging your pardon, but you must enter the royal city through its proper gates, tis the law here, thou. Oh, I see you wear the device of the Succundus clan, per chance you aren't Lord Daynar's vassal, The Lady Morganne? You greatly resemble the description provided me yes, you match it exactly. I was given a message for you to report yourself immediately to the Succundus safe house in the Garden Ward, that was from Lord Ciordan himself. Arrangements have been made on your behalf, milady. Please go now, but do not fly it draws too much attention to yourself" beside the mage were two of his bodyguards, donned in silver chainmail and wearing conical war-helms they both were armed with bastard swords, spiked bucklers and daggers, though one carried a 2 handed spear that had a very long reach. Next to the wizard stood a female cleric of Priala, deity of protection and guardianship. She gave you a cold stare, her hand gripping her mace tightly and you sensed a deep malevolence emanate from her being. This woman, whoever she was was not a friend.

Ressurection

2010-07-08T10:37:00.001-07:00

An incalculable time passes. Morganne was dreaming deeply, and in a dhampir's dreams they often see images of carnage and death. She was very weak, so weak, and starving. All she could think about was blood.
She awoke, buried somewhere deep beneath the earth. She was far too weak to move, and waited until the little creatures that dwelt underground lent themselves to her, the little amounts of blood reviving her. Finally she gained enough strength to burst out of the earth, and managed to gain hold of a small prairie fox, and eventually a human. THe human was a rotten toothed, rapist and murderer she realizes after a brief scan of his surface thoughts. He just finished having brutally tortured a small farming family nearby, wherein he raped two daughters and also a young boy before slitting their throats and burning their houses down to the ground. Morganne wasn't even in complete control over herself, demon possessed by her blood-lust she rushed out of the brushes and set herself on this man, draining him with masterful craft.

She realized she was naked then as her sanity returned to her. She was at a run-down house, in the middle of a forest that looked as if it was completely and utterly lifeless. The once lush and vibrant elven woods looked to be a dreadful lifeless husk of its former self.

The 10 attack

2010-07-07T05:10:00.000-07:00

Morganne felt the biting sting of 2 arrows penetrate her left leg, arrow #1 pierces her flesh there with deadly accuracy and the second gored her flesh then pumped a befoul venom in her blood, this one was not a garden variety amatuerish toxin either. It was the kind that liquifies the innards of its victims. Fortunately she was able to pluck the missiles shafts with asp and pluck them out of her, but she suffered incredible blood-loss as a result (-28 hp dmg)

As she came to land on the tree flanking Ulric, she heard a feminine voice softly chanting when a sphere of scorching hellfire blasted out into the area. Orath pressed his back tightly against the tree and his cloak pulled tight over him, Ulric leapt from the branch he was standing on, dangerously high and grabbed a vine. He swung toward the source of the fireball, hoistering himself with one hand he drew a wicked looking scimitar in the other. His two legs kicked hard into the breast of an invisible woman whos form was revealed. She was clad in a dark rich violet robe, and her face was well concealed. Morganne thought she saw her hair slither and move in a serpentine way.

As Ulric's muscular legs bore into her he staggers back as though he'd rammed straight into a brick wall, graceful as a cat he summersaults backwards and lands on both legs, his eyes blazed with a deep ferocity.

:I'll crush you like an ant, you shit-eating whore from hell!" the Nyriddian roared, moving to intercept. When out came two flashing blades that nearly tore the barbarians head clean off if not for his combat reflexes. There were two black clad fighters, one bore a black shortsword and dagger, and the other a longer 2 handed killing sword.

Orath shot a wrist-bolt that sunk into the neck of the first dark clad warriors, blasting acid on the dark warrior who didn't so much as issue an audible noise. The warrior calmly removed his breastplate, despite the acid that was eating away at his flesh. The plate fell and hissed angrily as the corrosive acid quickly devoured the metal. In response the warrior flung at dagger and struck Orath in the solar plexus, who then collapsed in a heap, and the rogue appeared to die.

A wind howled into the vicinity, blowing away the black smoke that Orath conjured.

Then, Morganne saw a winged beast fly down upon her stealthfully. It was a smallish sized Dragon-like creature, reptillian in nature with a fanged maw and very powerful looking wings. It tried to gore her with its claws but snatches her in its fanged maw then hurls her with a hard jerk, sending her flying away. On its back rode a horrid looking black garbed cleric, a 'fallen one', who brandished a sword covered in a flaming aura. Morganne's accute senses told her that this beast was not evil by nature, and was undoubtedly being manipulated with a powerful spell.

Hovering in the air, Morganne flies backward a little to gain some tactically sound distance, withdrew bonebreaker and sends it and its companion glaive whirring through the air. Bonebreaker cuts the wraith-like priest's left arm off, a fount of blood sprayed forth. The 2nd glaive slahes across the evil-priests chest and he falls from the saddle of his mind-controlled beast, descending far below. Incredulously, Morganne see's the cleric mid-descent pull out a whip, launching it at a branch with a masterful throw then swung himself onto a branch. He spun around, his vocie a deafening boom: "a masterful attack, Hextor curse your detestable accuracy, bitch!" the cleric spat with an evil elation, seemingly fascinated and bemused that his limb was severed. THe priest turned and said "You defeated my minions, ye hellion of hell, but you shalt deal with the ten now. No more of thy silly tricks and schemes will avail you, muaahhaha!"

While the dark priest spoke, its draconic mount came to him and he remounts. Meanwhile Ulric fought against the two stalwart warriors. THe barbarian was a natural, he kicked the first fighter hard in the face and spun around in the same instant, striking a damning blow with his scimitar against the second fighter's chest with a flurry of blows. "Morganne I need aid! That blasted sorceress is preparing some spell and I've got a sniper out there shooting at me!"

Getting to know you...

2010-07-01T05:43:00.000-07:00

Orath spent nearly an entire hour bragging about his many exploits and impressing a very smitten Cybil, the thief saunters over to where the prisoner's being guarded by two alert scouts who are engaged in a heated argument. The rogue grabs the prisoner and hangs him by his feet suspended over a low branch with very thin but strong silk rope. He then splashes some water on the mans face to rouse him, casually moves toward the fire-pit, heating the tip of his dagger until it glows orange. He said to Morias "Come with me and learn something useful. You are a cleric of knowledge, well then here's a free lesson in interrogation"

Orath brings the dagger menacingly close to the prisoner's eye, pressing it to the mans skin. The prisoner doesn't so much as bat an eyelash, unperturbed. The thief smiles "Well you have discipline, I'll give you that, but so do I, and I'm gonna break you open like an oyster, bet on it!!' he added, kicking the man hard in the face with his leather boot. The prisoner sneered then laughed, spitting blood on Orath's boot in defiance. A small but sharp looking blade shoots out of the tip of the thief's left boot, and he slices a thick line across the prisoner's right cheek with the concealed blade. The thief sets the man spinning, then he starts examining the spies belongings, discarding most of the items. "Who are you working for, you piece of orcshit?" the thief knelt down on a low crouch and placed his hot tipped dagger against the spies chin, saying "I know you're trained to withstand this, but trust me this is simply fun. Have you ever been tortured by dark elves? I have seen their handiwork, not like mine at all. My technique's considered artless by comparison. See the drow those guys are some heartless bastards, they'll flay your skin right off of you just to see how long you can last without skin. They don't even CARE if you tell them anything useful, they just do it for laughs, some sick puppies, don't cha think?" the thief spun toward Morias and says "Well, wanna have a turn? You Lorians are the experts in torture, I defer to the best!"

This seemed to visibly make the prisoner spies face grow pale. Orath looked pleased, "Yessss, we brought in some special talent to get your tongue wagging, cur!" he hisses, kicking dirt into the mans face. The women were escorted to a nearby stream in order to bathe, with Succundus scouts backs turned and on guard.

The rogue looks to Morias and said "Hold on, I'm not done yet" he then grabs a leather drinking skin and empties it down the mans throat, "This is a bloody waste of perfectly delicious whiskey, but it'll free your tongue of its secrets then I'm all for it!'

Several more mentally disturbing yet highly effective torture techniques applied and the spy breaks under Orath's pressure. "Hells bells thought this turd would never crack. Well then, I don't even know what to ask, oh dear...how embarassing. Hmmmm, who was the first girl you kissed?" he asks jokingly, drawing chuckles from the onlooking scouts. Hethron tried to contain his disgust for torture, and he and Celestria went for a stroll away from camp to talk in private. Ulric ate more meat and yawned, dozing off.

Reimos says "Who hired you? Whats your mission?"

Spy: "Follow, keep watch, report activities. I don't know who hired me, he never gave a name or revealed his face, but he paid good coin, and I needed the money. Times are lean! But I'm guessing he was a mage, the way he can appear and disappear like that"

The Elvish Camp

2010-06-28T19:24:00.001-07:00

Morias: Celestria seemed unmoved by your words. She says, without turning face: "Ah, I know all about this item, and I have great doubt that your order if so imperiled by the risk of annihilation would dispatch one mere cleric to mount the fate of the world on his shoulders no matter what their skill...if that were truly the case, then why not the very high priest himself undertake this world saving quest of yours? Nay, young one. Have you ever stopped to consider that perhaps Lor brought you out of your sheltered existence to taste the pleasures of the world? Or mayhap this device you emphasize is a test of your patience, skill or craft. Whatever it is, I would not bespeak of it or your mission so casually in conversation, you never know what being may escry our activities, or what spies skulk behind us. As you are a disciple of the deity of secrecy you'd best practice more subtlety, it is a sin to be so…openly truthful is it not? After all, what if we here may be tempted to steal this relic for ourselves? It is not entirely a impossibility"

Gildam strode over toward Morganne's side, smiling in a friendly fashion. He said "I noticed your wound has almost disappeared, those wraith-like fell creatures, I've slain before on patrol a week ago, skulking in the woods and asking travelers whether they had seen one fitting your description. I was glad of heart to have sent it fleeing with a blessed arrow that smote its foul essence. I admire your style, you have interesting weaponry" he said, his eyes fell on the glaive at your hip. He continues "I will make a good boon companion to thou, lady shun'ulle, that is in royal elvish lady of the flamed mane. I noticed you bore the standard of House Succundus, is Lord Daynar thy liege?'

Orath: "That he is, Gildam, his lordship pays us in good gold and princely viddles, foodstuffs from all throughout the inner kingdoms, and is mighty in blade, rich in magic. Though he couldn't have done it without Aronis and myself, perhaps you've heard of the great Orath then? Savior of neglected housewives, righter of unwritable wrongs, master gambler and discoverer of arcane secrets?" this drew a blank expression from the Elf, but Hethron couldn't contain his laughter. The ranger said "It's been a long while since I've come across a smart mouthed little dung-eating miscreant rogue from the Black Scorpions Guild!" he leveled in a personal affront at the thief. Orath drunk in the words but shrugged it off, "Huh? How dare you insult me, I'm not one of those low class derelicts you treehugging buffoon! I don't do guilds, unless you consider the merchant house Succundus a shadow guild. What's your beef anyway? We saved your friends asses against those snow haired darling dark elves from getting roasted on a spit, remember?"

Hethron's angry look soon melted and faded, "Good, I didn't want to have to kill you then. Those scum are everywhere, and they've more than on one occasion used my forest for their constant schemes. Only of late there's been less and less of their foul stench in me woods, though"

Orath pointed his thumb at himself "Yeah, you gots me to thank for as I gave the city-lord's soldier's some pretty solid intelligence on the guilds operations in eastern Nyr. Of course I learned it all from the priesthood but that don't matter. I learned the art of stealing information from the bookworm order is a very profitable habit"

Celestria makes a motion for Hethron and Gildam to go ahead of the group, and you can see that the ranger and elf enter into a small clearing ahead thats surrounded by vine covered stone pillars, each having weather worn elfin runes engraved on the surface. As the two draw near, the vines animate like snakes and come alive, but once they touch the Elf the vines recoil and cease their menacing of the pair of warriors. Using wind-speech to communicate, Gildam sends Celestria a sending. Celestria's eyes look incredulous, and she turned to Morganne and said "It seems that you have some 'friends' waiting for you over there!

Once the group tentatively enters into the elven encampment, they immediately see a group of six rather attractive teenagers: two are girls and four males casually lounging about. Two of the boys look to be brothers, and one is obviously a mage clad in black robes embroidered with silver whose eyes are an ethereal gray-blue. His twin brother a young warrior with light brown hair, clutching an impressive 2-handed sword. The other two lads are strikingly opposed in appearances, one has the look of a young Nyriddian by his height and build, and the other more diminutive and agile looking, with clever gleaming eyes and a crooked grin. Of the 2 teenaged girls one is a monk judging by her style of garb with a pair of 'sais' tucked in her belt, and the other young woman wearing a suit of black chainmail looks to be a priestess of Wrath. In the centre of the encampment lies a hogtied man, who wears a sullen and crestfallen facial expression. Though he has a noble countenance his eyes are divorced from emotion, like a soulless hallow man with no real purpose to his existence.

One of the girls, the young female monk stepped forward. Morganne could sense an alarming aura of immense power flowing out of her body, which appeared as white flame in spectral vision. She said "Greetings, Morganne, it has been a very long time. I'm Cybil, pupil of the Lords of Dis and a monk of their noble order. I'm sure you know all about them, as you had rescued us in the sub basements beneath the monastery outside of Corealus many moons ago, when Jor was our only defender. Morganne smelled a faint scent of Dren flesh on the girl, familiar to her nose as was that of her former teacher Elhondra. The girl went on: "These are my boon companions Naga the mage most mighty, his twin brother Reimos the seeker, Agar Braun and his younger brother Gray the sly, and last but not least my younger blood-sister Beatrice, an Elsmyrian priestess of Wrath. Our captive here is a master spy and professional killer who has been trailing you for days now out of Lor. He was planning to assail you when you were weakened and weary from recent battle, but we took him unawares on order from Lord Daynar"

Catching up with Daynar

2010-06-23T16:44:00.000-07:00

Hethron and Ulric came back to camp with some fresh game, which they prepared together a feast of venison stew and roasted boar. Ulric struggles a little bit with the skinning, to the amusement of his subordinates who smirk and chuckle at his frustration. The Nyriddian scowls at them and says "My hands are accustomed to slaughtering of foes, not woman's work!" he spat with a low growl, although he was only jokingly being defensive about his lack of skinning talent.

Orath was engrossed in a few quick bouts of craps against some of Ulric's scouts. They grew increasingly frustrated at their consistent loss of hands, and Ulric soon disrupted their gambling to assign sentries in the outer perimeter of camp, despite Celestria's assurances of invisibility and undetectability through scrying/magic. Hethron and Ulric exchanged some fighting moves and spoke in comraderic nature betwixt themselves.

Orath: "Can it, bookworm. If you wanna talk to Morganne you gotsta go through me, and it'll cost you say 5 gold per syllable you wish to convey to her. At least until we're in the next village and we can validate your story. Are you always this pig-headed? Make yourself useful and keep an eye out. Last time someone like you came along and tried to be instant friends with our redhead there still wishes he never came out of his mother's womb. Why don't you tell me why you're REALLY out here, whats the order want this time? I told you I'm gonna pay you loansharks back"

A song by Celestria puts everyone at ease and comfort and seems to melt the stress of uncalmed minds and restless hearts.

In the morning, leftovers are served as breakfast along with a pot of fresh coffee and some elvish waybread, figs & nuts and warm pond-water. Once all traces of being here are erased the party is lead by Hethron and Gildam, while Celestria stays behind besides Morganne.

After 3 and a half hours of hiking Celestria chants "iomiarios no'quar monias rom!" and her eyes flared with an azure eldritch ambient light. She calls out 'Prepare for battle!' to all, alarming the party who clutch for confidence at their various weaponry. Suddenly breaking past the shadow casting forest roof emerges 10 draconic reptilian Wyverns. The first with its hind-talons poised to snatch up Morias. The cleric wraps his cloak around himself and the deadly talons bypasses through his semi-corporeal form, grabbing an unsuspecting scout beside him. Each Wyvern was being ridden by a black cloaked and hooded being, that bore a resemblance to some ominous twisted cultist of some kind. One of them grabbed Ulric by the leg and carried the northerner into the air, started to ascend to a higher altitude.

This wasn't the only enemy to contend with, for now came forth to the southeast giant spiders being rode by well armed Hobgoblins. At least they looked like Hobs, however when they drew closer they were actually made out to be Thouls, a wizardly hybrid between Hobgoblin, Troll, and Ghoul. There were 7 of them, and they were jumping instead of simply charging and wading in recklessly.

DECLARE actions

None of you are surprised.

Capturing the spy

2010-06-17T14:22:00.000-07:00

MORIAS was crouched beneath the shadow a large tree, when the cleric felt a powerful glancing blow at the back of his neck. Despite the physical attack he was slightly still conscious, and sensed his body being dragged through a leaf strewn forest floor.

ORATH came up to Morganne then, releasing his captured prize. The thief examined the figure, who looked semi transparent. "Hmmm looks like he's only partially substantial" the rogue said, yawning he crouched low and stuck something to the nostrils of the spy, who stirred back to consciousness immediately.

MORIAS saw a black clad thief hovering over him, who hoistered you up onto both legs with a stronger than would seem strength. Two elves were nearby, and they regarded you with startled saucer like eyes. MORGANNE saw that this man was clad in the attire of a Lorian priest.

ORATH, the black clad thief says to you (Morias) "Now, priest please explain to us why you're playing thief in the shadows? Are you following us? What business does the bookworm clergy have with House Succundus affairs? Surely you're not meddling in our mission"

HETHRON interjected, said "Nevermind you, trying to glean answers from a Lorian is like pulling teeth out of a half starved lion. Asides, he is no threat to any of you...this is my forest, I would have been informed by my own spies if he was trouble"

REACTION

Rook's Smithy

2010-01-19T22:05:00.001-08:00

Daynar stood up from his intricately crafted wooden chair, stroking his chin and revealing a hand adorned with many rings. He turned to address all assembled in the room: "All of you I've come to know whether by chance or by fate, irregardless the manner with which we have come into bonds of fellowship, you ought know that I have cherished knowing you in some capacity. You've put down your lives on the line in many life threatening situations and have gone through much spiritual hardships along the way but I've watched and seen you emerge from the seachange you've all endured, and have all become something fierce and strange. At this time I cannot give much recompense other than my loyalty, friendship and whatever resources are at my disposal. In this last dangerous series of perilous adventures you underwent in my name you've gone beyond the expectations of even the most ardent knights any king or emperor could love. Now, this new quest is not one for gain or prestige but to sway a powerful and terrible ally to our small but very relevant realm as an undying protector in future times. And this very instant other forces are pooling their resources, forming parties of a diabolical bent with twisted ambitions and for all I know to corrupt the mighty creature or destroy it and seize its impressive horde. May Wrath's sword cut down your foes and Lor's light guide you to the right path"

After a brief but kingly dinner consisting of the best foods from Daynar's master chefs, Garosh and Orath joined you in Rook's new abode below Succundus manor.

His newest residence was a large rectangular stoney room where a mighty hearth blazed furious flames that radiated an aura of intense heat. The Dwarf wore a metal visored helm, hammering angrily at a stubborn orange glowering piece of metal alloy. After several more furious blows he deposits it in a vat of some sizzling water that hissed as it touched the incredibly hot metal.

"Well I'll be damned" the Dwarf muttered beneath his breath, "Hey boy go grab that bottle o' whiskey in the niche" he says to Orath. The thief casually strode to the wall and removed a section of brick wall that hid a small niche. Inside it he took out a clay jug of ale and plopped it onto the wooden table. The rogue said "Eh Dwarf, your smelling worse than a half dead half-orc. Take a damned bath would you?"

Rook glared at Orath and grunted in retort, pretending to backhand the thief for his sarcasm. Instead he poured a cup of strong smelling whiskey and took a swill…"Gonna need more o' this to bear the likes o' you, you smart ass trickster"

Garosh: "Saddle up Rook, we're taking you on a little getaway…bout time you went to visit the elves in the Blackwood, eh? Heh heh"

Rook cocked an eyebrow at the dirt blonde haired warrior and snorted, looking to you for an explanation…"Morganne, tell me what in the nine hells this bastard's blabbering on about?"

"This bastard's talking about you accompanying us on a secret mission" Garosh chimned in casually, "And we're needing some of your nifty toys…we're to the Gate Mountains!"

Rook's eyes lit up…he seemed both excited and confused, "Well shit on me, this true? Hells bells boys that's some crazy news…this better not be one of your stupid shenanigans or your petty personal missions again! I didn't quite enjoy romping around through the sewers looking for the thieves guild"

Orath: "It's not, this was handed down from Daynar himself. We don't really need you, after all they've got ME…but we sure as shit need some of your nifty new toys…"

Rook revealed a secret sliding wall where many items were mounted. He took out a few and laid them on a table…the first he revealed were a set of metal spheres ranging from the size of a pea to the size of a small plum.

The dwarf said "You mount this wrist-bolt into your shooters, its head has a powerful magnet. When you plug a target with it, you throw these small metal spheres. When they hit, they'll explode in small blasts and incinerate the target real good. These bigger ones, they're for blasting off door hinges in quick emergencies"

"And what's this?" Orath asked, picking up something that appeared to be a glove with a wrist bracer attached.

"Harpoon gun" Rook responded, "Fires a harpoon with a strong fibrous cord. Sort of like your wrist-bows only ten times the distance, the power and the speed. The ends can pierce stone or wood easily. Can be used as a backup weapon too"

"And what in blazes is this black ichor?" Garosh asked genuinely mystified. IN a plastic container was some black stuff, looked like black liquid gel that was infused with a spark of living energy.

Rook: "THAT is the essence of an obliviax, also known as memory moss. Aronis gave it to me. Succundus spies sometimes employ it to erase the memories of certain individuals while on missions. It steals and siphons the short term memories of those it comes into contact with. However, I thought it to be useful, for if it absorbs and starts to digest a persons stolen memories it can be eaten and you can regain those stolen thoughts…giving you access to information and secrets. Lorian priests began utilizing this practice to keep their most heavily prized secrets…well, secret"

RESPONSE

2009-12-08T13:24:00.001-08:00

Shortly after Daynar's rescue, Daynar teleported Orath and Morganne to a shadowy enclosed section in the gardens directly behind Daynar's massive manse. The garden was enormously large, even by the standards of other houses and a confusing maze of towering topiaries, large gazebo's and squares where statues of Daynar's ancestors stood looking tall and dignified. Every so often you see a pair of house guards patrolling the garden grounds, oblivious to you and Orath's presence.

The two of you stole past several patrols, avoiding detection and entered through the servants quarters. One guardsman there Orath approached and talked to, a man with a slightly big stomach who spoke in a crude and uncouth manner unfitting of a worthy guardsman. The guardsman, named Ronick by Orath said "Daynar, err the fake one gots Aronis and Sable holed up in the dungeon. Now its making perfect sense why the master's been acting so damned coo coo. Not taking meals and having every prostitute in the city visiting him like he's the ugliest man in the world. I can go free your friends, for a slight fee heh heh...ought not be much of a dent in your wallet, sly boy...and a good return for all the gambling money you shorted me last time you were around!"

Orath rolled his eyes and nodded in glum consent, tossed a leather pouch at the heavyset guardsman and kicked him in the belly and knocked the wind out of him "You'd better make sure they're free and quickly or I'll take more than a few coins from ya...you son of an orc. Now git, fore I take a pound of flesh out of your ass, you fat fuck!"

Both of you proceeded to scale the side of the wall, having to hack past the animated vines that threatened to overwhelm and squeeze the life from you. You come to the corridor which leads to Daynar's personal bedchambers, seeing the cadre of elite Succundus soldiers there. Orath said via the cloak clasp: "Bypass the wall with your phase cloak, I will take the guards out and join you...open the door on the other side!"

Like clockwork, when you phased through the door and opened the latch, Orath had rendered the four guards unconscious. There was the fake Daynar, waking up from a deep nap. As you entered he got up, and you can definitely sense that this imposter was no novice or amateur. He stood up quickly, a dead calm look in his eyes. He suddenly ripped his own face off to reveal the visage of a different sort...just another man, possibly an agent or an assassin of some kind. He said calmly "They'll never let you take me in" he stated convincingly. You could sense that he believed his own words, whoever the man was.

"Shut up you little bastard" Orath hissed as he pulled out his dagger.

Just then 5 darts shot through the window and pierced the man in the chest. He blacked out, and you saw beneath that he wore a hidden elven chain hauberk.

Orath looked startled, and he said "Shit, there's four of em hovering outside!" he said excitedly. "This guy might have information, Morganne. What should we do?!"

Lor: Slums

2009-09-23T08:34:00.000-07:00

The old slender man scoffed, "What? Your out of your cotton picken noggin, girl!...Your uncle gone bust dis dang door down twenty times this year lone, sure he's good for the gold but hells bells can't get any damn peace round here! I'll send Dekard to fix it first thing in the morning...mind the lay mam, dis aint the Garden Ward. I'm Gab, this is my two boys Bart and Lorm. Good boys, be kind to them they haven't a mother" he paused and said "Careful mam, this be the slums, and it aint safe for some young fair lass like you to be in it. Even warriors get scared round here"

A little fun never hurt no one

2009-07-29T14:28:00.001-07:00

Morganne goes inside through the massive door, stepping through a hazy mist and emerging into a slightly cool circular stone platform. Her senses tells her that she's not in the prime any longer, but in another realm of some kind. There are endless bridges as far as her eyes can see. Below them is an endless void that plunges into a bottomless void.

The gravity is much lighter, and she can float and hover above the ground with even the lightest jumping movement.

For what feels like an hour she adjusts to the strange ways of this plane, trying to adapt to its peculiar mode.

Navigating in a random directiion, you leap to a higher bridge and find it almost impossible to run normally...instead floating and hovering in large bounds. Finally, after a very long while of traveling thusly you spy a cloaked and hooded being in the distance. As you draw closer, it seems to laugh and mock you silently. Then six black garbed ninja float and hover towards you. The first fires off 5 throwing spikes that you parry aside with asp. One penetrates your shoulder though and pierces you, but you barely even register the injury. The human ninja move sluggish and are not adept in movement on this plane, you make short work of them all even though they are skilled assassins from whence they came.

From where the robed figure is, a large hand flies out and grabs you, bringing you towards himself until you are hovering before him. At this close, you see a man robed and hooded in a gray cloak and hood. His face is rugged handsome, with a noble countenance and he bears a look and feel of familiarity though you cannot know where or how you know this man. He looks at you studying you for a long moment then releases the spell that has you. The hand releases you onto the bridge, and the man says "I'm Dresdal Graystorm. Those assassins wanted to rape and murder you, but I had nothing to do with them. They acted foolishly. They were former retainers who betrayed their liege and was banished here, seeking escape. They prey on any who come, except me...for good reason. Many roam this plane and are stuck here, but I came and know the secrets of this place. I've come only today to seek one who lives on the border between life and death, and I saw that it was you in a dream of late. Now that I see you I see you have walked the path of hell, in the ways of darkness and have been through many tests. This gives me hope and joy of testing myself against you"

Dresdal attacks you with a curvaceous elvish scimitar, and his sword is a motion blur whenever it comes towards your face. The two of you battle for a very long time, and he seems to tire and grow fatigued. But you soon realize it to be a false hope and he renews his attacks against you with vigor, coming in with very swift and skilled blows. Several times he delivers slight strokes against non vital areas, his sword piercing through your living armor. Whenever you hurl corvus he dodges and evades the boomerang. With his offhand Dresdal unleashes a devastating whip that seems to always be able to strike you hard in the shoulder or across your stomach. He calls upon magic at various times, disappearing and reappearing behind or above you, and firing magic missiles at you while you are in the air. Finally, when you are exhausted and spent, he sheathes his sword and whip and calls you over to him. He says "My thanks, that was good...but I have to end it even though we could continue for much longer. I had to make certain you weren't a charlatan but the real person I came to meet. Go now, behind me. There's a door there not far. It will take you home, onto the ancient coastal highway which leads to Nyr. You will come upon a thermal bath where a priestess of Lor named Selbica lies. You will know her by the tattooes adorning her flawless body. She wishes to meet with you"

MORGANNE

2009-06-27T10:14:00.000-07:00

With the considerable aid of Praxus and his druid daughter Twighlah you managed to track down and find Randal Thorn. However, your new party was ambushed by a surface raiding party of drow elves who were returning from their evil mission on the surface. With his natural talent for deception Randal convinced the female leader that you were all a party of evil adventurer's hired by the high council of drow lords to find a stolen relic of Llolth in the Dwarven caverns. The drow leader using magic see's through the thief's deception and has his tongue sliced off, killing him. Praxus tries to use his magic but the dark elves are resistant to his spells, and Twighlah's too. In retaliation they're cut down but their lives are kept intact and they are taken as slaves. During this commotion you free your blades and easily dispatch two elite drow warriors, using a light bolt from your wristbow to blind the light sensitive drow's eyes. Some nice sneezing & choking powder keeps the rest busy while you make your escape into dwarven controlled tunnels, and the drow followed you and also summoned a powerful demon to assist in your capture. The dwarves came to your assistance, and drive your pursuers back to their dark world.

A dwarven patrol is dispatched to confirm your story and investigate the dead dark-elves who were in the tunnel. It so happened that in all of the ensuing chaos you inadvertently allowed the escape of a Dwarven ambassador who was abducted during the drow raid above, who confirmed your testimony to the Dwarf Lord Dorgan Darkbeard. He wasn't too pleased with you at first, but his icy visage melted once he learned of your activities against the drow. He seemed more interested in what you were doing in the underdark to begin with, but didn't press the matter.

AT DINNER IN THE FEST HALL

You're seated at the table of Dorgan Darkbeard, and also the ambassador who's life you saved. You've been given a meal of warm mutton, fresh bread, and dark ale.

Gate Mountains: Ogres

2009-03-14T16:38:00.000-07:00

After the exchanges that took place with the hermit, Randal says to Morganne "Don't ever interfere with me or my business again the next time we encounter a strange character like that, Morganne. You can very well leave your notions of civility and courtly manners for city-life, that rot will get you killed up here! For all we knew that old bastard was a spy or an informant of some kind, maybe even the Dragon Praxus told me lairs up here in the mountains...or an Illusionist, or a Doppelganger. If you listened as well as you spake so glibly you may gain some wit yet. I wasn't rude flippantly but to test the old man to see who he was. His response could have betrayed something hidden but instead you interfered and bungled instead, acting on impulse. I admire your ability to act fast but I also condemn it it's your major flaw. Your cavalier attitude is too rigid"

The party encounters a group of six Ogre's from afar. They don't notice you, and appear to be standing about outside of a cave that they just sealed with a boulder.

REACTION?

The Gate Mountains

2009-03-06T11:13:00.001-08:00

As Praxus was speaking, the two of you fall into a deep sleep after drinking his 'mint' tea. Some incalculable amount of time later you both awoke, and strangely at the same exact time. Morganne realized when she slept that the phase spider cloak kept her form non-corporeal, a very useful side-effect.

The sleep rejuvenates you both, and Twighlah cast several healing spells to bring Arik back to prime condition, where grave wounds left by the Cambion and the undead lord were only evidenced by stubborn scars...scars which tell a tale all of their own. Morganne's wounds vanished, and both Praxus and Twighlah were flabbergasted by this. Praxus somehow knew Morganne was a dhampir, for he was a man of great wit and cunning and it was obvious to both Arik and Morganne.

You leave the cabin and mount your individual steeds, very strong looking Coursers. Twighlah: "Those will bore you swiftly, and they know the mountains fairly well. We use them to gain the Dwarven Empire. Be careful!"

Randal Thorn takes the three of you to the start of a road that winds through into the looming spires of the Gate Mountains. Here the start of an early summer is underway, and the vestiges of winter dwindling. The fair weather puts all in relative good spirits.

RANDAL: "Here's the map I stole from the Margrave of Bissel. This is the wilderness area that leads its way somewhere along the line into the mountains proper. Fortunately we're a small group, and have some stealth about us but Arik your elf-cloak and boots are no good in this kind of terrain so its best if you kept behind Morganne and me a safe distance until we signal for you the coast is clear, okay?

NOTE: you have 2 weeks worth of rations, list all of the items that you've collected out of the elfin store. When supplies run low you'll have to hunt, which will take you a full days worth of time.

SCOUTING: While scouting ahead Morganne and Randal spot a pair of Goblin's watching the road. They spot your horses and immediately bolt down the road.

REACTION?

Hall of the seven kings

2009-02-21T08:48:00.000-08:00

With a well aimed shot Morganne's missile sunk through the slight opening below water and erupted. The surrounding rock coupled with the water contained the blast radius. As the eruption cleared, the opening was much bigger now.

The three adventurers swam below and through the opening, coming up for air through the opposite side. In this newly discovered area was an immense and once beautiful area, what was once kingly trappings have faded and vanished. In the area are several large thrones, seven in all and on each sat a human skeleton with crowns atop of their heads. Each of the seven also possess a unique looking sword.

"Ye Gods" Twighlah said as she pulled herself up out of the water..."I don't believe my eyes, is this all an illusion? This looks to me like the hall of kings father had been searching for all his life. Do you not know of this Morganne?"

(INT: succeess) Morganne remembers hearing about this fabled place from some brief perusing of the great libram in Lor. Apparently, seven paladins who venerated Wrath a thousand years ago were given special swords blessed personally by the high God. However, their hearts became corrupt and they had fallen to evil. In their greed and lust for their treasure they gathered together and guarded over it themselves, even unto death. Their swords supposedly became cursed by Wrath as retribution, though this has never been confirmed as being truth.

Twighlah: "Don't touch anything! I'll summon something to do that for us. It's obvious there may be guards and wards not visible. I need to rest now"

Randal Thorn

2009-01-29T06:39:00.000-08:00

Morganne and Arik gather what they can find and discarded anything extraneous. Following the secret way pointed out for them by the fighter, they carry Randal along. The forest is eerily silent, and you continue to follow the trail, Morganne's senses continually watching for hidden threats.

After an hour and a half you come upon a log cabin in a clearing ahead. There's a trail of chimney smoke billowing out of it. A watchdog on the front porch announces your presence and starts barking excitedly. Out of the front door came a man with snow white hair that was cut neatly and short. He had a soft look to his face and features, and didn't appear carry the demeanor most wizards had. When he saw Randal he immediately began casting a spell and created a floating disc to rest the thief's body on. Guiding the disc inside of the cabin he had his daughter, a girl perhaps barely past her 18th winter with dark brown hair and eyes care for the man and she began stripping him of his clothing and boots. "Hot water, and some viddles for these travelers" the man said. He had a very even tone, and it was serious and pragmatic yet gentle like that of a loving but stern father.

His discerning eyes studied Morganne and Arik briefly. The cabin interior was simple but well laid out and quite cozy, along with the roaring hearth which a black cauldron laid was full of some spicy beef marrow soup. The daughter, whose name was Twighlah gave Arik and Morganne each a black clay bowl full of the soup and a piece of semi-stale bread. "There is a storm coming, father" she said suddenly. The man nodded in wordless acknowledgement and sat down after thoroughly examining Randal's wounds. The man introduced himself as Praxus, and he says "His wounds are grave, but I gave him some herbs that will stave the venom from spreading too fast. He's got less than a day to live. This first bolt was only an inch shy of the heart"

"We must save him!" Twighlah said emphatically. Praxus's eyes became annoyed and irritable, "Enough child!...some lives cannot be stolen from the Gods hands"

Hommlet

2008-12-17T12:45:00.000-08:00

Sybal and the thralls left, gathering those that were cut down by Arik and Morganne. Morganne found little sleep but was able to relax her muscles and aching joints, letting her regenerative powers restore torn tissue and trivial niches and scratches. She found that she was virtually incapable of sleeping, and the longing to drink blood kept her awake and alert. She went out back and took a big gulp out of a chicken and some livestock there, sating her incurable fiendish appetite.

Narcosse and Orath came in singing and then immediately plopped down and were still like lifeless zombies.

Orath: "Damn it!!! Come look at this!!!" the thief hissed, staring out the window. Out in the street far below were ten black armored mechanized soldiers, rounding up thirty villagers. The leader was a cloaked being amongst them, who wore a black tattered cape and a bladed staff. The leader-figure moved a clawed hand in a gesture of some kind and the black soldiers leveled their staves which shot forth emerald arcs of pulsating energy and smote down the innocent villagers where they stood.

"Incinerate the village, spread out and find them!!" the leader said in an inhuman mechanical voice.

Vor: "Quickly, make a hole in the floor, and another in the floor beneath"

Narcosse stomped a hole into the floor as directed. A few more swift kicks opened it up further, and some powerful hacks of his sword made a huge gaping hole in the ground. "The Innkeeper aint gonna like that much" the barbarian said with a chuckle.

Vor: "Fasten a rope, quickly Nyriddian! And take the children down...you too, rogue. Black guardsmen are searching the downstairs floors. They'll be searching this one next. Morganne cover our escape, watch the door. Arik you watch the door beneath. Teleport to our location once we've made it there safely!"

As the children are guided along, Morganne's door bursts open as two burly black guardsmen carrying a smaller battering ram stand there. They drop the thing and throw spears at the dhampir. She ducks then leaps forward, coming up right in front of them with a side slashing attack with Bonebreaker. The first guardsman ducked, but a second slash cuts him across his armored stomach for -5 hp dmg...the sharp blades drew blood out of him. The wounded guardsman clutched the wound with one hand and snarled "You'll die for that, wench!"

Guardsman #2 roars "I'll finish the bitch!" diving forward he thrusts his longsword deep into Morganne's stomach., laughing (-12 hp dmg)

ARIK: you climbed down to the room directly below, guarding the door when suddenly it bursts open and two vicious wardogs immediately attack. Behind them were a pair of human black guardsmen.

ATTACK DOG #1: as it came dangerously close to Arik, the fighter slashes at its head with his sword (20,84% crit) cutting open its neck and killing it instantly. (24) reversing the gleaming sentient sword in his hand he cut the second dog down with a swift downward arc, decapitating it where it stood.

The two soldiers snarled, "At last we found the little bastard!" then threw their spears hoping to impale Arik. The fighter dove and ducked out of the missiles as they went crashing out the window behind him.

Orath: "Hold them off for just a few more minutes, some heavy fighting but we're trying to reach the wine cellar! Almost there!" the thief and barbarian were flooring soldiers left and right. Narcosse was beheading most of his opponents with vicious violent deathblows of his great-sword.

REACTION?

Brass Dragon Inn

2008-12-07T22:19:00.000-08:00

Arik checks on the children, and found that they were held in a deep blissfull sleep as though not a care in the world existed. It seemed only like yesterday to Arik that he himself had been set upon the capture and apprehension of these very children he now protected. Protected against his former lord, Dezloz Rygos.

Vor rests a hand on Morganne's right shoulder "Be at ease, you needn't concentrate on the road anymore. The main northron highway is closely watched by spies of many various factions. We must veer toward the northeast and into the peaks of the Gate Mountains. Once there we will go through the Dwarf city Ironholme and egress on the eastern slopes of the Gates. If we reach there, we can find aerial passage to Cloudkeep. There dwells my friend and mentor, Alzor Dam...he is the eldest patriarch of my faith and is all knowing...able to see into endless streams of possibilities not yet realized"

Orath: "Would someone please translate what the hell this fool's prattling about? Man would you speak common please! You're not making a lick of sense to anyone here"

Narcosse: "He's saying his master's possibly useful to us, that much I've gleaned. So what? Everyone can be considered useful or powerful...like this Lord Daynar I've heard named from these others lips. How, Vor do you know he can be trusted? That someone else hasn't already anticipated such a move on our part?"

VOR: "I don't, and even if they do it will be difficult for any foe to find Cloudkeep anyways"

Narcosse: "And why is that then?"

VOR: "Because it sits high up in the clouds, levitates rather and it constantly moves. It cannot be teleported to, nor can beings use magic to locate it. It can shift to any plane of existence if somehow say a Godling tried to enter it. It is the oldest known structure built by men in all the world...even well before King Lhandros's reign. It was once the very last stand and refuge of the previous men of the world before they were wiped out of existence by the God Wrath. It was of the world of men that was destroyed eeons ago by the Lord of War, Wrath. And my mentor IS useful and powerful, barbarian. He has the ability to tap into and open a living beings potential. Anotherwords, he can make you stronger and smarter and faster than you already are in a span of mere days. How do you think I was able to gain the power of perception that I now possess? I was merely a tool before, a weapon used to dispose of obstacles of those who could afford my exorbant fee. I was a creature entirely guided by physical perfection and considered assassination an art form. As you can imagine, I was utterly humilated at Alzor's hands...and was fully prepared to take my own life until he stopped me against my will. Then you might say after being held prisoner in Cloudkeep for months I underwent a sudden change of heart"

Orath: "I think I liked you better when you talked less" the thief said with a laugh.

Suddenly the coach stops after two hours of hard riding in a northeasterly direction. 50 men suddenly surround the coach and horses, springing out of the surrounding bushes and surrounding trees. They are apparently hillmen, each armed with axe, spear or heavy swords. These men have fierce eyes and taller than average (roughly 6'4-7'ft), muscular frames and they eyed you all with suspicion, loathing and contempt.

"Our catch of the day's arrived" the leader said triumphantly. He looked fairly tall and naturally strong.

Orath: "I thought you knew of all dangers, Vor? Ahead of time?"

Vor: "At times....but there are circumstances and events, variables which can thwart my perceptions as I told you earlier. Even Morganne wouldn't have detected these hillmen, they are in their natural element"

HILLMAN LEADER: "Shut your damn mouths, you weakling southron curs!"

ORATH: "You shut yours, you loud ox, or I'll slice off your tongue. Out of our ways, we're to the Gates and none will hinder our progress. We haven't time for any of this kind of bullshit"

HILLMAN: "We'll have your skinny little elf-maid there for toll through these parts, darkhair...she looks like she's healthy and vivacious. Or you can fight me if you dare...and no weakling southron fool like you has ever bested me before"

Orath dismounted and snarled "Very well, you tower of offal. I'll cut you down to size and feed you to the buzzards for this!"

A circle throng formed around Orath and the hillman. The hillman leader bore a huge axe, while Orath only sported his shortsword and dagger. As the hillman charged, Orath flung his dagger and smiled smugly as it sunk into the hillman's left elbow, rendering it useless. The hillman was left with no choice but to wield his huge axe one handed now.

"You foul little bastard" the leader swore. Orath waved a dismissive hand saying "You have that great big axe and I but these puny blades by comparison, you offered no equalizer so I made one myself"

The hillman rushed the thief like a raging bull but Orath leaps over him, and placed a dagger into his back in the process.

The sleek and slender Orath danced and wore the large muscular hillman to a tired state. Occassionaly the thief would lash out and strike him now with his daggertail chainwhip. After what felt like an eternity Orath grew bored of the game and ended it with a wristbow shot to the hillmans left eyesocket.

Wisely, the thief didn't make a move for the body. There was heavy tension in the air, and everybody felt it. Any slight spark could easily ignite the fuel of anger that swelled in these hillmen, their pride would not suffer any more indignation.

"Don't say a damned word, any of you" Orath said via the telepathy of the clasp, skulking back towards the coach wagon.

"Run like the wind, you devil" someone in the throng said darkly.

"Yeah, get ye gone from here or we might change our minds" said another. A spear flew out at the cabin but rebounded off of its metallic surface. It was merely a warning threat.

The party presses onward. You stop at a village called Hommlit. After bypassing several locals residences you come across a large and inviting establishment called Brass Dragon Inn. Resonating from nearby Morganne heard the telltale familiar sound of pounding on an anvil, and so did Arik. The scrumptious scents of fine foods permeated in the air here, and originated from the interior of the place. On the front porch stood a porportionately tall and strong looking man with a beard and the look of an outdoorsman. He yawned and stretched like a cave bear and smiled broadly, saying "Ah greetings, welcome along travelers me names Gormack...ye has the look of seasoned travelers ya do. What brings ya to the likes o' Hommlit if you don't minds my asking"

Orath: "Our business is our own, friend. These are dark days that call for well, paranoid measures...nuff of the chit chat and pleasantries just seeing if there's any rooms inside....your largest room, and stables for our steeds...little extra for one o' your people to take care of the beasts, and some food and drink...any good whores hereabouts send em our way too"

This last part made the man shake his head in disbelief, "You've the manners of an orc, stranger. But your gold does shine brightly to these eyes, and your generosity is compensation enough for me not to be caring bout yer business. The biggest rooms gonna cost ya though"

Orath: "How much?"

GORMACK: "Five gold a night, that including breakfast and bath and stabling fee. Extra two gold for the madam of the house if ye be wanting quality in yer bed partner"

Orath: "Done, done, and done. And here's an extra bit for you to keep the stupid questions to a minimal, not out of you but any of your lackey's you might keep. And make sure their tongues stay tied, I would hate for there to be reason for someone like myself to come back here and teach them a hard earned life lesson...like not squealing. I hate squealers, and I don't have much reservation bout killing em know what I mean?"

Gormack nodded, his eyes drunk in the thief's words and meaning easily, "Don't even give it another thought friend...discretions my middle name. The only thing you'll need ever worry from Gormack is what you DON'T be wanting"

Narcosse: "Thats good to know. Whatever the hells getting cooked inside's unknoting my innards"

Orath: "Let's go in then you big bastard, we've got some eating and wenching and merrymake that needs doing...I'm weary of this borish mission"

Once inside, the huge commonroom is simple and elegant. There's an enormous roaring hearth in the center, and many round wooden tables neatly aligned around it. There are but a handfull of men and women sitting or standing here and there, most of them appear to be locals though there are 1-2 mercenary types. Of the mercenary types there appears to be two fighters standing next to the hearth in a deep conversation, and a juggler in the far corner of the room idly throwing knives at a wooden board.

The party sat, and ate. A buxom blond serving wench came along and took all orders. Narcosse ordered some wild boar, and Orath a bowl of beef stew and a huge tankard of the house ale. Suddenly a drunkard came up to Morganne and asked her something: "Hey purty lady, you be needin a guide? I know my way around very well, and I know my way around dangers you might not be aware...*hiccup*" Morganne didn't detect anything suspicious about the drunk, in fact she could tell that he was a ranger judging by his smell beside the stink of beer breath. [REACTION]

Vor returned to the table from upstairs, and he came alone which startled everyone momentarily. "Worry not, the children are safe...they will be protected by a air elemental for several hours at least and it will inform me at once if anything out of the ordinary occurs"

Narcosse was hitting it off with two very beautiful and scantily clad taverners. They seemed to be quite attracted to him and it was abundantly clear what he meant to do with them this night. "I don't think two will be enough to sate Narcosse!" the barbarian said after downing a second flagoon full of Brass Dragon house dark ale.

Narcosse: "Damnation, I've not a copper to me name! Morganne had the money! Some of that gold we got from the vampires lair. Well that settles it she'll cover my tab tonight!"

Orath smirked, said "Don't get your loin cloth in a tangle, boy...I've got you covered so long as you pull some of that crazy crap you've been pulling so far...and you'll get more for gambling possibly"

On the road again

2008-11-26T09:38:00.000-08:00

The horses managed and navigated the forested swamplands with relative ease. Pausing, Vor came along with Arik and the two hop into the coach, keeping the children company. Arik found them in a deep peaceful sleep and knew it wasn't a natural one but of a magical nature. He didn't know how he knew he just knew and he sensed it was his sword that gave him that sense. Four boys, three girls. They seemed unremarkable for the most part, average except perhaps a bit more attractive than common blooded children.

Vor "I'm not a mage, Morganne. My oracular insights are certainly not all encompassing and is limited to the realm of events and actions of circumstance, not that of dweomers and objects of power. But common sense would say that such a cloak would let you phase in and out of the material world, avoiding most forms of mundane attack"

He turned his attention toward the children, then said "One day, these children will grow to become idealists and heroes in their own right. They might not exactly be the romping adventurers their parents had been but they will be a new breed of hero, the sort that can capture the thoughts and imaginings of ordinary folk. In short, they are seeds of ideas that cannot be maligned or checked by the greedy and corrupt. Dezloz is from the far future, a renegade and a meglomaniac who is a master of sorcery and science...his lust for power drove him to time travel into Scarlor's past to a time when these children are not only less known for what they were but less formidable and far less powerful than their future selves. It was never Dezloz's intent to murder these children, for even he is not that despicable. His intent was far more sophisticated. I believe he wants to use powerful spells to implant into their minds that will germinate over due course of time. Spells that will subtly manipulate and influence their actions to favor his future schemes. In effect, he seeks to control the shepards of his future thus controlling the controllers. Dezloz is rather enigmatic to me. He's not what you'd consider evil by our worlds standards. He's above petty cruelties and lesser evils. Even my gift of insight cannot pierce the veil surrounding him, for as I'd said he is from a different timeline than ours and perhaps that is why. However he would certainly have no moral debate about blasting any of you away if you meddled in his affairs. And now he has introduced a terrible technology in our world that should not be allowed to exist. Those metal skeletal creatures back there, they are of an ancient and alien origin. If allowed to replicate and multiply...none would be able to withstand him. He will sweep across the Inner Kingdoms to gain these children, you see. Our victory today may be short lived"

Through a thick swamp

2008-11-05T07:00:00.001-08:00

ARANDAL: (9) you run towards the nearest of the ugly gray skinned dwarves charging with a shortsword you found on the body of a slain guardsman, but he spun around and leapt back to avoid your charge.

Snarling, he rips out a crossbow and fires at you point blank. You tilt your head to the left and avoided the missile. "Hokram digusmo largaz!" the dwarf spat in its own language.

The second dwarf turned to face Hargath and a evil smile formed on its face, and this dwarf grew in height and now stood as tall as a tall human, with muscles to reflect the newly aquired height. It fired a

bolt at Hargath but it misses the dwarf too. Two more Gray Dwarves fade into view as their invisibility was nullified by their attack. One swung an axe at Hargath and the other swung a hammer at Arandal,

neither blows connected.

Four magic missiles flew out from the stairwell you both emerged. It was that shrunk woman Ciri standing there, her left palm outstretched. She was restored to her original form now, and she held a gleaming

longsword in her left hand. Each magic missile struck one of the Duergar squarely in the chest, scorching their flesh. She then ran up the stairs and disappeared.

ROUND 2: all of the dwarves swung at you and missed.

ARANDAL: (18) you grabbed a hot metal blade handling it carefully with a bit of cloth, from the anvil and strike Duergar #1 on the chest. He moved back and trips over an anvil and right into one of the open

furnaces, setting himself ablaze. His dying screams filling your ears.

HARGATH: trips and falls to one knee (1: fumble) one of the Duergar swung at your head with his axe but you duck as the axe whisps over your scalp by a hairs margin.

ROUND 3:

(16) Hargath struck Duergar #2 with both hands forming one single large fist. The enlarged Dwarf was hit hard in the face and momentarily dazed. Hargath then felt a deep cut tear across his back, Duergar #4

slashed Hargath across his back with vicious abandon (-6 hp dmg) "You stupid surface fool, you ought hath left when you had the chance now you're gonna die real good"

With the orange glowing longsword in hand Arandal moved and struck Duergar #1 across his chest. The blade was not entirely sharp but it did hurt the dwarf (-6 hp dmg) the dwarf was mad, and it bashed Arandal

in the stomach with its crossbow. The elf felt the wind knocked out of him and was winded. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Duergar #3 fall over a block of solid metal. Arandal and Hargath both attacked

the clumsy dwarf. Arandal's hot metal brand failed, but Hargath (20) kicked the dwarf in the gut so hard he went flying backward and to his death, burning in a scorching blaze. The dwarf came rushing out of

the furnace and onto the floor, trying to get out the flames. Two of the Kobolds started to laugh at the burning dwarf, and one evily kicked a bucket of water onto the ground so that the dwarf wouldn't be

able to quelch the flames.

ARANDAL ran the pointed piece of hot metal through the chest of Dwarf #2, and he sensed the dwarf was hurt bad from it. Immediately the Dwarf became invisible and disappeared. The second one dodging

Hargath's blow also turned invisible.

Using the hot metal sword, Arandal lifts his heated chain-hauberk from the roaring hearth and dumped it into a vat of water for cooling. Hargath only found one of his maces inside of the roaring furnace, the

second one was melted down, useless and destroyed.

Then suddenly, Arandal's elven senses alerted him to danger. One of the Duergar came from behind and slashes downward across his unarmored back (-6 hp dmg) with an axe (POISONED) Arandal felt some hot

burning enter the wound delivered from behind, and his body slowed.

"To hell with these surface scum, Garglam, the base is under attack. Save your own worthless ass, I'm'a leavin!" one of the Duergar roars to his counterpart. Both break off and flee.

Hargath finds no holy symbol here. You notice Vrail grabbing something out of the furnace, and amazingly it doesn't burn her hands. She levels a wand in the direction of the fleeing dwarves and the mutters a

obscure word, unleashing a cackling black bolt of negative energy. The bolt kills the two dwarves immediately.

"Hargath, come on we need to leave right now or we're doomed! To hell with your possessions you can get new ones...I doubt we can get a new Hargath so easily, though" Vrail said emphatically.

You both hear voices and shouting echoing throughout the area from behind. One voice stands out from the others, it is a deep baritone that is clear and confident in its quality. A man in black and silver

robes glides down the stair, his eyes glowering in crimson red light. He sports several superficial wounds, arrows and sword-cuts but does not appear in the least bit concerned by them. Fastened around his

belt is a thin black chain ending in a scythe type blade. Next to him are two hooded and cloaked figures, one a male and the other a female. You cannot make out any distiguishing details about the two as

their faces are covered with shadow and hood.

"Make haste, those dumbshits though stupid they be may yet deduce our means of escape. They brought elves with them, and my phantasmal force spell should have disrupted by now" the priest said.

"Worry not, master. I have laid traps along the stair, poisoned caltrops. A very deadly poison, mi'lord" the female shadowy figure spoke.

"Good thinking, Katra. You are indeed worth the obscene amount of gold I pay you. Go scout ahead, in case theres any more suprises this day I should be aware of"

"Aye, master" the hooded woman said, and she obeyed.

The cleric nodded, and then brought out something from the folds of his robe. He held it, and it shone with a bright gold color. "Xilth mograt kaymlar sugatt ploray du'bahl" the priest intoned. When, out of

the ground emerged a loathsome creature which resembled a toad. It bore enormous rows of razor sharp fangs and a sinister gleam beset in its monstrous red eyes.

VRAIL: "A Hezrou!, a powerful demon. A testement to that mans power, no easy thing to control such a thing. Lets tread cautiously. What are we to do now? I say we follow at a safe distance"

Back in the stables...

Arik, Morganne, Vor and Narcosse took a winding road that slowly veered towards shallow bogs. Along either side of the road were small ramshackles houses and cottages. The dogs that guarded these began

barking at your steeds but would stay themselves at the sight of you. When you came to a ford along a deep creek, the steeds refused to cross. Vor, being wise to the ways of horses had to find a safe route

and guide his horse across to get yours to follow suit. Morgannes fell in the mud and was suddenly traumatized by patches of mud, and would resist her urgings and commands.

Once across the water, you continue along the road and sense you are moving deeper into a long stretch of damp swampland. The road eventually turns into a hoof-deep creek that winds deeper and deeper into a

forest/swamp hybrid, shadowed by several relatively low mountains.

You come to a fenced in section of swamp, where a fence comprised of razor wire has been set. Vor cuts a section of the fence loose and guides you through, then upward towards a narrow barely detectable

goat-trail.

"We've some fighting to do ere long" Vor said, turning toward Morganne and Arik..."Verbeeg, about a score of them...on the opposite side of this mountain. Evil giant-kin, not as strong or tough but in numbers....Morganne you've some thieves work to be done, go spy on those giants and come up with a plan of attack"

Morganne sees through her spectral sight about a dozen of grotesque looking giant-kin, Verbeeg as they are called. They look to be keeping watch over a circular mountain road nearly 50-60 ft below them.

In hot pursuit

2008-10-29T07:31:00.001-07:00

Hargath manages past pockets of in-house fighting clambering down windy stairs. The slave-girl later abandons him to find her own means of escape, alongside Arik and Morganne.

In the decrepit dungeon beneath the castle you come across a hot and steaming series of chambers filled with the resonating sounds of familiar pounding of hammer on metal. An orange glow illuminates this area and floods it with intense heat that makes one instantly sweat. You spot two Gray Dwarves melting down your items in an intense furnace. Five Kobold assistants are at their beck and command, each Kobold wearing an apron with various metal instruments. The dwarves appear clearly frustrated about something. The second Gray Dwarf tosses Arandal's elven chain hauberk into the roaring furnace, along with his cloak and boots.

Orath turns and regards Arik's question, says "Take him along, make sure his mouth is gagged and hands are tied. He might have some useful information. Kill him if he tries anything stupid"

Narcosse shoves Arik aside with incredible strength, and in one fell swing lops the cackling elf's head clean off, callously kicking the headless body down the winding stair...."He tried something stupid, he looked upon my gorgeous visage without my consent"

You follow Vor's guidance and gain a swift secret passageway that winds below ground along a straight course. Though the air is stale, it is still clean and most of the chambers and various rooms are simply filled with straw and crates full of rotted bread, some boxes filled with maggots and others with grubs.

When you emerge, you find yourself within a stable full of horses. There are six total, none of which are actual warhorses but simply steeds reared for riding. A young dark haired boy, perhaps 20-24 years of age stands in the corner and eyes the party wearily, a blank expression set in his eyes. You note that the weather is quite humid here, hot even. The dark haired lad is drinking out of a cut coconut he just opened up with a machette.

When you enter the stables you hear Aronis's voice enter your minds:

ARONIS: "The children are being taken southeast of here, inside of a metal arrow-resistant horse driven coach, which is magically protected. They are guarded by a small army of black guards and some hobgoblin auxillary troops. Orath you'll have to cut through the swamp of Dengal and over mount Yuris and Bleakstone to get well ahead of the army. Once there, prepare an ambush, and we will attack from the flank and overtake them. Be careful, the swamp can be treacherous to navigate, and ware any crocks"

Vor says "I know the route. The mountain is high, but the way is relatively clear of dangers except for mudslides, and mosquitoes. Still, there might still exist danger there that even I know nothing about"

HARGATH, ARANDAL, VRAIL hear faint, unsettling groans of anguish and torment from somewhere nearby erupt all about them.

DARK HAIRED YOUNG MAN: "You wanna take MY horses through the swamplands? Good luck, they don't respond well to strangers. And luck isn't going to be much help mucking through the mud. Then you'll have to find the secret ways, the trails and paths. There's other things to watch out for too...like Giant frogs, Lizard men, Giant Mosquitos, Giant Wasps, Stirges, Boa constrictors, and oh and of course there's a Froghemoth you might run into...and better say your prayers before crossing that thing...the last party of would be explorers who went running amok in the mud got themselves dead real nice, eaten up by the damned thing....twas a tragedy for certain. I tried to warn em but the blasted fools ignored my warnings. Well, for a mere ten gold I'll get you to where you need to get to...whaddya say?"

Orath shrugged, and it was plain to see he wasn't certain. The thief suddenly moved in a blur and had a dagger pressed tightly against the young mans neck..."You'll get us to where we're headed, boy...and you'd best get us there through the safest possible way that you know...or I'll feed you to whatever monsters you claim lair in the bogs. If I suspect any treachery or games, you die. If I sense I'm being delayed in any shape or form out of you, I'll slit your damned throat...remember that"

Then he moved toward Arik and Morganne and communicated via the clasp: "I sense this lads a bit treacherous, so better keep an eye on him. Its true what he said, there were a group of mercenaries that he guided through the bog we're headed, but he lead them into a trap and fed them to a monster...the frog thing"

"Froghemoth" Aronis said, "Very rare, very deadly beasts"

Orath: (annoyance) "It matters little, just scare the little fart and intimidate him enough where he won't try anything stupid...we'll manage"

ARONIS: "The lad is clever, actually...but I detect a deep pool of darkness clouding his soul. He can be vicious and evil, too...but alas we need him. Try to be kindly and befriend him. We only have on shot at this, and if this group breaks free of our intended trap they might hole themselves up in their headquarters and we will have a hell of a time safely gaining the children again. Nows our golden chance"

Heavy Assault

2008-10-03T09:35:00.000-07:00

After the illusionist's escape, Morganne helped free Narcosse and Arik whose wounds were hardly alleviated. Both had been administered nothing more than a droplet of healing draught, which repaired he dagger puncture in Arik and Narcosse's lungs each. Arik had actually been dead for some amount of time, and he felt himself adrift in some black cheerless landscape until he had found a door made out of shimmering light. He was compelled to enter it and he did, though he felt calm and at peace in the land he was in.

As the two warriors eyes struggled to open, they both struggled off the floor and propped themselves up. While Morganne was frantically searching the room, Arik saw the skies filled with winged creatures, each was ridden by a heavy lancer and in the rear was a bowman or a crossbowman. These Griffon and Hippogriff units swooped down and skewered any resistance along the walls, each lander impaling up to four men with a single fly-by. Their rear shooters in turn would take out several wall defenders with deadfire accuracy.

The black guard were a precision instrument, and laying siege to its wall was clear in Arik's eyes not going to be easy, no matter how large a force. It came back to the soldier regarding this hidden castle, really a secret prison for special prisoners detained by 'The Great Society'...it was built to withstand punishment. Along the walls some of the black guards prepared many cauldrons of hot oil, water, and animal feces. Catapults were being hauled by Ogres along the walls and turrets.

Through the window was a endless stretch of arid wasteland, but it was now darkened by an enormous force...units of men advanced, heavy calvary and entire batallions of archers. This was going to be a battle of epic porportion.

Smartly the party moved. You were clambering down a main stairwell and nearly mowed down by a unit of black guard, 12 in all who simply ignored you..."Out of the way!" one snarled. Narcosse was going to let into them but thought the better of it and wisely restrained himself.

All about the castles interior the sound of steel against steel. Going down the stair, you come to a level where an arcade opens up and several black guards are firing crossbow rounds out the windows of the passage. When their bolts are spent, several opposing soldiers leap through the window, having swung down from their winged mounts. The party continues to the level below and comes to a emptied passage. It ends with a set of double doors. Vor shouts "This way!" and he runs ahead of the group. When you get to the door, he motions to move to either side. Out of it comes a animated suit of black armor, with glowering crimson lights for eyes. It is bathed entirely in blood, and moves with a robotic manner. Its right forearm has been torn off and it has numerous arrows jutting out of it.

"INITIATING SELF REPAIR" it bellows at nobody inparticular, and continues on, heedless of your presence.

"Continue the assault, reinforcements are coming!" the emphatic voice of a attacking soldier roars from somewhere nearby.

"Lets get on with it already" Narcosse spat weakly.

As Morganne opens the set of double doors, she sees a unit of twelve guardsmen escorting several hooded and cloaked children down a flight of stairs...each of them with their hands tied behind their backs. One of the rear guards spun and casually shoots a warning shot in her direction, two of his bolts thudding into the now opened door.

NARCOSSE: "Heal me, man. I heard that blasted mage say you were a cleric, so get us right again" Narcosse said to Vor. Vor nodded, brushing back his silver hair he clamps a hand to Narcosse's chest and recited words of power. Suddenly Narcosse's appearance became cleaner, more vigorous. He does the same for Arik as well. Arik felt strengthened and vigorous once again. Arik felt...invincible.

Another unit of black guardsmen came down the steps then, ten in total. They smiled and severed the rope leashes of their individual attack dogs...the pack of ten shepards attack! DECLARE ACTIONS: MORGANNE, ARIK

Narcosse prepares his sword and tightens his grip, ready for the dogs.

*********************************************************************************

"You little bastard" the guardsmen that Hargath knocked out said after having a chair smashed over his helmed head..."I'm gonna gut you good, you little turd!" he ran at the cleric and swung his longsword. The blade flew over Hargath's head and he countered with a swift kick to the guards stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Vrail cunningly stole the soldiers dagger, then plunged it into his back. He fell to the ground, dying.

Drow and Dwarf both moved out into the hall where they see a bloodied looking wounded Arandal at the end of the corridor. The two guards at the elf's 'guestroom' were on the ground, snoring deeply from the elf's sleep spell.

As Hargath and Vrail move over to the injured elf, a slave-girl comes out of nowhere and says to the two "Ho! You three there...you have the look of adventurers about you. Can you help me to escape? I will aid you if you can"

Enslaved once more

2008-09-25T11:14:00.000-07:00

Guards came, and more guards and they overwhelmed and took Vrail, Hargath and Arandal prisoner almost effortlessly. If they'd murdered the sleeping guardsmen, these guardsmen might not have shown mercy or leniency. Hargaths armor and mace grew incredibly hot and scalded his hands and skin.

More guards came and collected the limp lifeless forms of Arik, Morganne and Narcosse. The illusionist faded into existence and snickered. He turned his cold gray eyes to Hargath and said flatly "Your mission has failed, dwarf. You cannot escape this fortress...oh you can certainly enter, that much is made with purposeful design...but there is no escape, no way out. Now, you will come to serve thy new master. You needn't those crude weapons you carry any longer. Come now, I am a reasonable human being. You lost and that is understandable, such is the fate of those who serve that arch fool Lord Daynar. He sends his pawns unknowingly to their own doom, it is one of his favorite tactics. He sent you into the unknown, not caring what fate befell you...just to test the defenses of his foes...just posturing as he always does. Why not serve a true and proper liege? One who will award you and arm you to the teeth?" the black garbed mage said. "I'll give you some time to dwell on these words"

Morganne awoke. She was chained to a stone slab, and she found she couldn't even speak or move. She wore some clean looking white garments. In the far corner stood Narcosse and Arik. Arik was suspended upside down, his ankles tied to the ceiling and his wrists were glued to eachother by some substance. He'd been revived.

The illusionist stood there, his arms folded across his chest and a bored expression on his shadowed face. He said "Well, Vor? Do they live?"

Standing there in the shadows a man walked out. He had silver hair and gray eyes, just as described by Daynar. He nodded affirmatively, "I used all my skill as you asked, my master. All three of these heal quicker than most. The dhampir will be sick a little, I think in error administered too much of the pigsblood in her, my master. Most dhampir cannot drink as much blood as a true vampire, master. It will cause them unholy pain"

The illusionist nodded. He removed his cowl to reveal a startling visage. It was...the face of Daynar!

The illusionist turned and regarded Morganne with a smile..."Ah, you're awake. Sorry, I didn't expect my phantasmal killer spell to actually OVERCOME you. You had whats called a heart attack. If you were a common mortal you would have died...excellent that you lived, my sweet. Oh, you're wondering about this face eh? Well, it is my TRUE FACE! Did not your liege who sent you on this fools errand tell you about me? I'm quite hurt. That asshole created me, and he stored me in a crypt somewhere in the dungeons beneath his stupid castle. He intended to use me in case he should die, his soul would enter this body and he would continue to live on. What do you think of your noble and heroic master now, my dear? It never dawned on that idiot that this body sported a unique soul of its own...or rather, he IGNORED the fact out of his own sweltering vanity and pride"

The illusionist caressed Morganne's cheek sensually, "You are a beautiful woman" he stated, smiling. "You might sire me many sons, with your vampiric regenerative abilities why your stomach is a fertile breeding ground for siring issue..." he said, caressing her naked exposed belly. Then he produced one of Morganne's weapons, a glaive...he eyed it speculatively..."It is a beautiful weapon, of a bygone era. Strange selection for an assassin. I am sure your benefactor wished for you to end my life...but now that you know the full story...are you so eager to do his bidding like a mindless murderous tool of his?"

***************************************************************************************

Hargath awoke with a start. He still felt disconnected to his deity, and his belongings had been confiscated. He was in a brightly lit guest quarters, somewhere. He was with Vrail, but Arandal was taken elsewhere.

DECISION?

Searching for Vor

2008-09-24T16:03:00.001-07:00

Narcosse nodded. He moved into the northern passageway, and startled the slave wench. He too seemed to move without much noise in his footfalls, taking the girl totally off guard it would seem.

He grabbed her by the wrists and was saying something to her questioningly. She beckoned to one of the doors, and the barbarian callously tossed her to the ground. "You sorry slut, you'd better not be lying to me" he spat threateningly.

He gestured to Morganne to the door and said "This whore claims that there's some important prisoners inside. Some I've heard tavern talk of back at the Maul, a inn I frequent in Higkor. Some I've heard are worth several thousand gold pieces for their mere return! Regardless I came seeking someone as I started out and intend to find that person...and something tells me quite soon!"

As Narcosse opened the door indicated, two huge trolls stood in the room, hissing and staring at him with their horrid black eyes and terrible teeth.

"By Thravar!" Narcosse spat.

DECISION

GUARD ROOM

2008-09-22T23:40:00.000-07:00

The party using the clasps dimension doors to where Morganne is once the treasure vault was sufficiently looted. You find yourself in an enclosed rectangular room, roughly 10 x 10, where a shattered table lies in the dead center. Strewn about are two dead attack dogs and two dead men. Suddenly, Morganne bore a set of fangs and prances on Arandal!! The elf grabs Morganne's wrists and intercepts her attack, himself skilled in weaponless combat. Narcosse grabs her from behind and holds her off of the elf..."Calm yourself, redhair! What in the devil has gotten into thou?" the northerner asks. Seeing her fangs bared, he roars "She's one of them bloodsuckering bitches!"

REACTION

Sifting through the hoard

2008-09-22T07:34:00.000-07:00

ARIK: the new sword you found was heavier than usual...very heavy, and it seemed that it grew heavier still. As you hold it, it felt like it bore some hidden sentience, you sensed this sharp mind somehow instilled inside the sword. Suddenly it flew out of your hands and its scabbard fell off. It hovered in the air above your head, and with quickness moved to slash at your face! Moving equally as fast you leap backwards before the sword could cut. You feel as if the sword were somehow testing you.

(22) with a vicious retaliatory swing Arik struck the blade with resounding *clang*, and all of a sudden he sensed that it was somehow satisfied by this display of brazen skill. The animated weapon flew back into the scabbard. When Arik drew it, he found it was as light as a feather and did not recoil his touch. The blade was crafted from a unknown metal alloy, which dawned on the fighter as being extremely strange. Having been with the black army of Dezloz, and thus conquering many known lands he was familiar with most metal alloys used in the forges of master smiths.

MORGANNE: giving her new glaive a practice throw, she found it moved faster, and with more accuracy than her own. It cut a line in the far wall and ceiling as it flew across the chamber. The middle of the glaive was an enormous diamond, and it had a ruby toward each prong. She also discovered it did not have to be unfolded but rather it unfolded itself when she launched it in the air. Even though it cut through the stone walls, it lost none of its keen sharpness. The blades appear to be coated with diamond.

Continuing through the stockpile, the party finds several precious gems and jewels, about 1,500 in platinum, 2,500 in gold, and 3,500 in silver. When the coins are cleared, there are several more items:

An ivory scrolltube
A bag of hand-sized iron spheres-25
A black silken cloak woven from the webbing of a phase spider, it is semi transparent.
An elven chainmail hauberk
A pair of drow elven shoes
A ring made of white gold

The Vampires Lair

2008-09-19T07:18:00.000-07:00

Vrail turned and regarded Ciri for a moment then the drow said softly “I can negate the spell’s effects but I will need ample enough rest and pure silence, which this dismal place lacks. Some highborn drow are gifted with the ability to dispel magic, fortunately for you Ciri. It seems our mission runs along a parallel path, so we should join forces. For now, I say we leave any excess traveling equipment here to lighten ourselves. I’m going to make this entire ship invisible, which will hide it just long enough to suit our need. Morganne you and Narcosse take point, we will follow closely behind”
The party takes what provisions they will require, discarding extraneous items.
The party proceeds up the stairway, and it feels as if there is no end to these steps. After an hour it seems like you barely even made progress. Finally, after two hours the party takes rest and drinks some water to cool down. About 50 ft above, Morganne’s awareness detects a dark cavern, the roof is filled with a small colony of cave bats. Deeper within this cavern she also sees a stone sarcophagus. The lid has been removed and hovering over it is a black shadow. She sees a face peering at her, and as her vision zooms in on its features the pale face smiled and winked at her playfully. The figure’s face was chiseled and symmetrical, and eyes that were amber and she could feel this skulking shadows power emanate throughout the entire cave, pulsating with a lifeless energy. The vampire blinked and the entire party was bathed in red light. When the light dwindled and died you were inside the cave, standing before the tall lanky vampire. His flesh looked like it was made of liquid marble, and he stared at the party blankly, and it seemed he was in some sort of trance.
Narcosse drew his sword and challenged the vampire with a feral growl…”Why have you brought us here, you pale decrepit worm…care for a kiss from my blade?”
The vampire smiled, then laughed softly…”Hsk, enough of that mortal nonsense Nyriddian. Merely offering you a praise for decimating those troublesome dark-elves. They do so irritate me. And I sensed powerful life passing this way I could not but help to inquire as to who they were…you young brash living things…full of life and vitality. Your souls are full of liquid life so pure and fresh…if I hadn’t any self restraint I would dine on thee but alas I have already feasted to such excess as to make even an ancient like myself seem like a despicable lowly creature”
Narcosse: “What in the nine hells do you want then? We haven’t time to sit here all damned day engaged in meaningless banter”
The vampire smiled and simply said “Fair enough…I wish for you to destroy me”

Wounded

2008-09-17T10:03:00.000-07:00

After the battle, only Arandal and Arik were left unscathed, as well as the newcomer barbarian. Morganne, Vrail, and Hargath seemed to be the most seriously hurt. Clive and Garette were dead, it seemed that the drow mage had snuck up behind them both invisibly and slit Clive's throat. While Garette died in battle against the four drow fighters who were more skilled than the two young soldiers.

The barbarian rapidly began looting some of the dead bodies and threw things in a sack he took from the dead wizard. He turned to Arandal and spoke "Elf, I am Narcosse of Nyriddia. I mean you no harm so long as you offer me none yourself. I was enslaved to this rabble but now I will share whatever spoils they had. What say thee?"

Carving a bloody path up and down the steps

2008-09-13T10:34:00.001-07:00

As Drow Fighter #1 was engaged against Hargath, Drow #2 fired on Arandal with two hand-held xbows. Arandal dipped low and avoided the tiny barbed bolt, but a second pierced his neck for -3 hp's. He collapses and falls down the steps, going into a roll like a log toward Morganne and Vrail. Both leap over the elf,

Nyllia leapt over Arandal's unconscious form and continued to attack Morganne and Vrail. Her blade came in deceptively low then upward and cut the dhampir in the neck and chin (-6 hp dmg), Simutaneously her dagger cut into Vrail at the same time. (19, 19) Morganne hurls Wobbler which cut Nyllia alongside her left leg, and came back and also cut her in the shoulder (-15 hp dmg) on its return flight, meanwhile 2 magic missiles shrieked out and blasted into Morganne from the alcove landing high above where Hargath fought. Clive and Garette started swinging at the black robed drow undermage with their swords...cursing at the agility of the elf who easily evaded their blades.

Drow mage: "You dare? Foul degenerates, I shall drink your souls deeply with my hellblade"

HARGATH: (9) once again swung but failed to hit the agile drow target.

NYLLIA'S curved blade cut and snagged into Morganne's dark armor and pierced her in the side, sending jolts of agony coursing in her body. The drow forwent a normal strike and bashed the dhampir hard in the nose and she went flying off the stairwell and slowly fading downward towards a riverbed below. Vrail threw a handfull of powder towards Nyllia's face then leapt off the cliff, catching Morganne on the ankle once more but accidently dropping her atop one of the spirited bugbears facing Arik.

ALL 3 Bugbears swung at Arik, murderously enraged glaring red eyes shot daggers at the fighter. The first grunted and swung hastily, missing. Arik's counter missed too, for the Bugbears were aware of his prowess and thus on their best guard. He ducked low and answered in kind with a swift swipe of his longsword, cutting deep for -11 hp's. The bugbear merely grunted, grinning and revealing rows of its impressive fangs..."Ya fights good, for a hummy...gonna knock ya out da box right quick"

Just then, Arandal's rolling form came clambering down the steps and tripped the two bugbears forward and sending them crashing into the third. One fell on Arik's sword and died instantly, but knocked the Dren back and he fell over the side of the stairs. At the last minute grabbing onto the ledge of the stair. The Bugbear's belt snagged onto the fighter's ankle, easily 350 lbs the weight dragged Arik down and falling he once again crashed into the river far below (50' ft).

Stirring in the water was a Giant Ghar. The ginormous fish began swimming steadily toward the fighter, intent on making him its next savory meal. The only bad thing was Arik couldn't find his sword anywhere until he saw it through Morganne's shared vision high above from whence he fell. His only remaining weapons were his long dirk and sistari dagger.

DECISION

Control over the bridge

2008-08-29T14:00:00.000-07:00

ELEMENTAL ICE: it resists all of Morganne's attempt to melt it. Every time she makes some progress, a second later the ice reforms.

The two ogre's didn't hesitate to charge across the bridge and attack the defiant dwarven cleric. Both now gripped two very long blades, but Hargath had some skill in evading their long clumsy hard strikes. He rolled forward and within the reach of their huge battle blades.

VRAIL leapt out from the surrounding shadows and sunk her slender sword into the backside of Ogre #1, and it gruntled in horrible agony. Her offhanded dagger followed her sword and added more damage to the badly injured ogre guard.

ARIK, ARANDAL missed their attacks and swung hard or shot as accurately as they could.

Meanwhile, Morganne sneaked along and gained the opposite end of the bridge. She was suddenly at the entryway where the cunningly concealed openings lied.

Hargath swung his mace at Ogre #1, clipping the creature in the right shoulder (-4 hp dmg) skillfully.

ROUND 2: the party moved first, but most of its blows were clumsily executed and you all fail to bring harm to the enemy.

OGRE #1: flees toward Morganne.

OGRE #2 draws back toward the bridge and brings its two huge blades in front of it in a defensive X.

VRAIL with amazing agility leapt forward and came to a roll when she hit the ground, rolled past two whirring blades the ogre tried to skewer her with and upper cut the ogre with her sword and dagger. With a final grunt it fell back and crashed hard to the ground...dying.

OGRE #2 drops its sword and lifts its arms in surrender.

DECISION

Guarded Bridge

2008-08-25T21:21:00.001-07:00

"Don't be so certain, Morganne" Vrail interjects. "You're not the only being with extensive vision. My people's magic is considerable, and they can perceive things beyond what you underestimate them as being able to" she said. Turning to Arik, she says in a low din: "Don't forget that you're the leader on this mission, so we'll follow your lead. But you need to decide our course more confidently. Remember Lord Daynar appointed you our leader in this mission, not Morganne, Arandal or Hargath...or even me"

The party meanders into an ice-laden cavern. Strangely, the ice is not frigid cold, only subtly chill. It limns the entire wall of the small grotto you are in and is very reflective, you can see your own reflection clearly in it.

While exploring, Hargath and Arandal are startled when they run into the cobalt blue eyes of a frozen barbarian perfectly frozen solid inside of the wall. Long dead but perfectly preserved, clutching the hilt of a sweet looking weapon. This weapon appears as a gleaming runesword with fanciful engravings along its blade-length. Strangely when the two demi-human adventurers stare at the weapon you hear faint imperceptible voices echo in your mind...voices that resonate with a soothing melody that puts you at ease.

"That isn't natural ice" Vrail comments, "It's ice from the qualsi elemental plane of ice" she added. Clive and Garette scratch their heads in unison, a confused look in both of the young soldiers eyes..."See stupid, I told ya its not regular ice" Clive says to Garette. Garette shrugs and ignores his comment.

"Hsk, look there!" Vrail said, she was pointing toward the bridge which was now visible. Across it, two towering Ogres emerge out of a section of wall that is actually cloth painted and disguised to blend in with the natural cavernous surrounding. Both wear a pair of two handed swords strapped to their back that are sheathed and form an X.

Ogre #1 rips a loud thunderous boom of a fart, waving its taloned hand in front of its nose in disgust at the horrid stench of its own flatulence. "Bah, me wants some sweet meats...Bok tires of eating dem damn gobs, they tastes like rat-meat dey do.

Ogre #2 "Bah quit yer bellyachin', we'll gets better chow whens the relief get their skinny hides backs here. Meanwhile guards dis damned bridge and don't says no nothing to sets the black ones off...they'd soon as fry you for laughs for lookin at em funny. Keep yer stupid mouth shut and yer ears open for the signal to opens the door. They cant's gets in and we'll be in deep dung if we misses their three little knocksies"

Disorienting room

2008-08-23T07:59:00.000-07:00

Morganne threw corvus at the first statue. The bladed whirring weapon sparked as it struck it then spun around the room. Everyone had to duck fast to avoid being cut by the flying edged boomerang.

"Hold" Hargath says, "We have not been attacked yet."

The dwarf looks at Arandal.

"The man who invented it does not want it. The man who bought it does not need it. The man who needs it does not know it. Is that right?"

The dwarf thinks he knows the answer but is a little apprehensive.

"Dumathoin be my guide" he whispers.

The priest walks over to the arched door. Clearing his throat, he simply says,

"A Coffin"

"Yes Hargath" Arandal says. "I believe you are correct, it is a coffin but before we proceed and suggest that let us make sure we are as well defended as possible. I would hate to say the word to accelerate me needing one!"

With that Arandal draws his bow, notches an arrow and then says a coffin in ancient common.

The door swung open suddenly, beckoning you forth is a damp corridor where the ceiling hangs low (about 8 ft high) and the walls were crafted from huge limestone blocks. Black iron sconces lied along either side of the passage walls, each was filled with cobwebs and old snubs of long dead torches. The cramped passage continues north 30 long strides until it comes to into a small circular rotunda. The passage north continues along about 50' ft until it comes to an enormous great door that is currently closed. There is a passage in every direction here. There's a fresh fragrant smell of plants and flowers emanating from some direction, which you're uncertain of.

Suddenly the floor began slowly spinning. It does nothing else but the whirring spinning sensation leaves you with a queasy disorienting sensation. This will affect which direction you will be able to move in, and will randomly force you to take different directions from one another unless some solution can be thought of.

"Damn this infernal movement" Vrail said.

Garette and Clive are laughing between eachother..."This is fun" Clive said with a sheepish grin.

There are several skeletal remains lying scattered in the north-east corner of this oval shaped chamber.

REACTION

Gallery

2008-08-17T21:22:00.001-07:00

This chamber appears to be an elongated antechamber carved out of marble. It is lined with two rows of marble pillars that reaches the ceiling to floor. At the far north end of this room there lies an arched doorway, where two statues lie on either side of the door. The statues depict feminine war-maidens that each brandishing a two handed bastard sword. The smell of rotting cloth and mold permeates throughout the gallery.

A painting of King Rodac can be seen on the far left wall. It is extremely large, and somehow perfectly preserved. Several other paintings that lie scattered in this chamber look to have been ravaged by time or purposely damaged by looters and trespassers.

Through Morganne's transferred vision you can all make out what appears to be engravings above the arched door. Her vampiric sight lets her extend her sense of sight as far as the door. The inscription appears to be wrote in ancient common (equivalent of latin in Scarlor). The only one amongst you who can decipher its meaning is Arandal:

The man who invented it doesn't want it. The man who bought it doesn't need it. The man who needs it doesn't know it. What is it?

ROYAL SEAL

2008-08-16T14:17:00.001-07:00

The party navigates the route provided by the cloaker. After ten minutes, you come to a rectangular opening and climb down 30’ to the ground below. You are in a wide square shaped antechamber that’s limned with limestone dust, roughly 45 x 50 in girth. The walls are smooth hewn marble, and on the far wall is a royal seal of some kind that’s been masterfully carved into the stone-work. It depicts the heraldic insignia of the sage king Rodac. His bust is a handsome figure of a man, bearing a regal countenance and a hawk-shaped nose. His hands clutches a broadsword in one hand, and in the other a scroll.
Suddenly, a spectral knight materializes out of the wall. Its clad in the livery of a knight clad in pure silver armor. The helm appears to be draconic and is laced with white-gold and platinum, and this ghostly knight salutes you with an impressive looking long-sword…”Mortal rabble from the world above…come to fill thy pockets with ill begotten spoils of war, eh? Well there is naught but death here for your greed and lust. My sword yearns to cut out your hearts and feed them to the wolves of hell!”

Dungeon of the Damned

2008-08-08T13:55:00.001-07:00

At the last was Arandal who climbed up the rope and through the trap-door. Just then, the entry-door burst open. In came two Hobgoblins carrying a battering-ram. They dropped it and drew swords, and started to sweep the room looking for clues. After two minutes of searching, one of the Hobs went back to the door and yelled something in the gullutal dialect of Hobgoblin. In came twenty more Hobs.

But the party was already meandering through the tight crawlspace, one by one. All of you have to crawl on your hands and knees except for Hargath who's size actually allows him to simply crouch a little low but besides that he's much more comfortable.

Peering about, the Dwarf detects several traps in the left and right shafts, two in the left-most and three in the right. The creature that Morganne detected earlier is not where it was before.

The shaft continues forward, where you smell a more fragrant scent emenating. It seems to end in a shaft ahead that goes up and down. The passage that goes left-right seem to go much further.

DECISION?

POST 12A: THE PARTIES POSSESSIONS RECOVERED

2008-08-04T16:03:00.000-07:00

MORGANNE tries picking pockets on Orog guard #1: 62% on d100. The Orog grabs the dhampir on the forearm, laughing triumphantly at having caught her red handed in her theft…”You foul bitch!” it hissed with vehemence. (STR: success) Morganne twisted her own arm to snap free of the Orog’s vice-grip, and the half-orc/ogre viciously ripped out its scimitar from its scabbard and slashes the dhampir across her arm (-4 dmg) warm blood trickling out of the wound. “Ughek broklmar!” the Orog roared in Orc (sound the alarm!)
The second Orog didn’t heed its companions order, for Vrail had laid a powerful enchantment over it. It suddenly tried to tackle the first orog guard. The guard side-stepped the attack, glaring at its own fellow with alarm set in its hideous pale yellow hourglass eyes…”Curse you!” it roared at Vrail.
Suddenly Arik, Arandal, Hargath followed closely behind by Vron, Garette and Clive entered into the passageway. Vrail’s outline of the trap with some powder was ample enough warning for the rest of the party to circumvent the cunningly concealed pressure-plate trap. Hargath found it easily enough and told those who hadn’t detected it in the dark of its presence.

ROUND 2: Initiative: The Orog moved before Morganne and Vrail could do anything

The uncharmed orog breaks off from melee and tries running toward the door only a few feet away. Morganne swung her pick-axe but misses as the Orog ran fast on its powerful legs. The charmed Orog swung its scimitar at its cowardly companion but missed. Vrail, moving with baffling agility backstabs the Orog with the pointy edge of her weapon, killing it.
The rest of the party enters from the junction and into a damp corridor that Hargath senses runs north-south. The walls, floor, and ceiling are crafted out of smooth limestone and granite. At the northern end, just a few feet away looms a wooden door that’s currently closed. At Morganne and Vrail’s feet is a dead Orog with a huge gaping hole in the small of its back. Black ichor pours out of this nasty wound, the slain Goblinoid’s life-blood. One Orog stands passively by the lithe Vrail’s side, a glazed and sullen look set in its yellow hourglass eyes.
Both creatures were armed with scimitars, daggers, and throwing axes (2) each. Morganne and Vrail discover that the scimitars were laced with poison, and fortunately for Morganne it didn’t affect her.
The party can hear the sounds of muffled voices emanating from behind the door.

Garette and Clive pushed through the party and came forth, examining the dead Orog. Both of the young soldiers marvel at the sight of it, and whisper between one another in total awe, never having seen an Orog before.

Vron spun toward the two and pointed at the dead Orog, "Get rid of that body!" then set his gleaming eyes to Vrail "Order your new minion to tell us whats yonder the door there if you'd be so kind"

Vrail spoke to the Orog in perfect orcish, drilling it for vital pieces of information. After a brief discussion, she turned back towards everyone and whispers "There's four humans males, and two orcs gambling over our possessions"

Vron: "Is that all?" he asked, almost amazed. When Vrail nodded affirmatively, the fat elven wizard orders both Garette and Clive (once they've finished hiding the Orog's carcass) to open the door on a count of five. As the door is opened, several heads turned to regard the party, and the men and orcs started to desperately lunge for their arms. Vron launches a ball of scorching fire that floods the room in a bath of engulfing flames, so hot that beads of sweat briefly trickle down your own brows. All you hear are dying screams and wailing echoes reverberate off the guard-room walls...the stench of burning hair and bones causes you to nearly wretch. Morganne curses as she was deprived of her mask and she nearly faints from the horrid smoke that comes out of the room, but quickly she recovered.

"No need to sully ourselves with these lackeys" Vron said, moving into the chamber to inspect his handiwork. His fireball seems to have thoroughly incinerated all of the guards. Several men and orcs black ashen remains lay on the ground. On the incinerated table they were gambling on lies all of the parties possessions, minus the platinum necklace that Hargath had taken from the warlock only days ago. Fortunately most of the clothing that Lord Daynar bequeathed was intact in a jail cell at the far corner of the room, where the contained fireball blast hadn't reached. The rest of your mundane possessions lied in the room. On the table were Hargath's mace, Morganne's boomerangs and pair of swords, other items you all had taken from you that were of some value.

GUARD ROOM: this is a 10 x 15 antechamber, constructed out of carved limestone. There is another door on the opposite wall of the entrance you came through. Hanging from the ceiling is a bullseye lantern suspended by a thin chain thats now quite black, but still intact.

Amidst the stolen items there is a longsword forged entirely out of pure silver, with strange alien runes engraved upon it.

DECISION?

POST 12: Continuance

2008-08-04T06:21:00.000-07:00

Vron plucks a dagger from his belt and mutters something arcane beneath his breath. The dagger suddenly emitted a vibrant green light which shone in a conical shape from the handle and extending from the tip of the blade. It sort of looked like a light saber, and was certainly overkill in terms of light.
“I don’t trust that fat pig” the soldier Clive muttered. His friend Garette laughed, until Vrail gave him a scalding look. “What?” the soldier said, eying the drow evenly. She shook her head, irritated.
Navigating the tight passage, the secret door slithers shut behind you. After ten long minutes the party comes upon a massive iron wrought door.
The two soldiers seemed to be bickering betwixt one another, until Garette asked Vron ‘Mr. Vron sir, would you happen to have anything to eat? We’re starved sir”
Vron raised an eyebrow, a look of incredulousness briefly flashed on his face. The rotund elf dug into a leather pouch and produced two strips of bacon and a flask full of some yellow liquid…”That’s all I got right now. There’ll be more in awhile, tighten those belts”
The two soldiers were elated over the food and devoured the bacon greedily, then quaffed the yellow liquid with abandon.
“Help me with this door you two buffoons” he ordered Garette and Clive. The two soldiers nodded and used their pick-axes, finally the door groaned and resisted but eventually yielded to the combined elbow grease.
“Well at least you serve some use other than to satisfy your own appetites” Vron said, peering around the corner. “Shhhhhhh” he said cautiously. He then turned to the party and said “This corridor we’re about to enter is riddled with some dwarf-traps. We go right, but real quiet like. Obviously, not ALL of us are able to move as silent as myself….but by all means, give it a slight try. There are two orogs in a guard-room at the far end of this passageway. Morganne, take your drow companion and take them out. Be careful, there is a pressure plate somewhere in the middle of the passageway. Make sure those two guards don’t escape to raise any alarm, the last thing we need is for a bunch of Bugbears to attack us”

Morganne and Vrail working together both manage to stealth through the corridor, silent as death itself. Morganne found the pressure plate that Vron warned about easily enough. Vrail tells Morganne: "I've an idea once we reach the guard-room, follow my lead"

As the drow leads Morganne along, the two come to the chamber indicated by Vron. There, two burly orogs were both stunned and totally surprised. Vrail narrowed her almond shaped eyes and regarded them with a scowl.

OROG #1: "What? Who you? Why you come here?!"

Vrail: "Be silent, you little pissant! Fore I turn you into a spider. I'll ask the questions, farthead! Now, I could have slain you for your lax in your sentry duty. Perhaps I should tell Darkon of this lack in discipline, hmmmm?"

The Orog seemed to understand, but eyed the drow crossly. It snorted, laughing "You filthy whore, you're not going to say a damned thing. Now, take off your clothes and maybe we'll let you live, huhuhu"

REACTION?

POST 11A: The fat Elf

2008-08-03T08:05:00.001-07:00

The party has none of their original weaponry, only pick-axes and lanterns.

Vrail: “I’ve never seen or heard of those three, but there are many characters in the world who are far more deadly. Yes they got the best of us, but tides can be turned quickly. However, I have a feeling that since we haven’t been destroyed that they may be slavers, who knows? And Arik don’t punish yourself. Do you remember what Lord Daynar said to you? He said that Dren become stronger when they survive the brink of death…so you got your wish, you’re stronger whether you realize it or not. That foul Dwarf’s hammer was heavily enchanted. I read about such a hammer during my academy days in Erelhei Cinlu, and it seemed to be the Dwarven thrower. Hargath might know more than I, but it is a fell weapon in the hands of a fighter who’s specially trained in its use”
Vrail responds to Arandal: “It seems like some were strong and fresh, and others were worn and far too abused to put up any resistance”
The party enters a mine shaft tunnel that Hargath and Vrail can sense is inclining in a downward slope. After five minutes of carefully navigating the passage, the party comes to a T junction crossroads, whereas a tube-shaped tunnel takes you either left or right. The ceilings are comprised of strong looking wooden beams, and most of it appears to be recently constructed to Hargath’s eyes.
Suddenly, out of the shadows appears a tiny creature with a reptilian snout and a horned crown on its head, rust red scales clearly identified it as a Kobold to Hargath and Arandal. It was sniggering and staring at the party closely. “Lower those damned pick-axes, if you’d please” it said in perfect common.

Vrail snarled dramatically “Who in the nine hells are you to give us orders?”

The Kobold laughed, “I wasn’t ordering you, I said please. Look, if I wanted you dead you’d be on the floor now, dead. I’m a friend, whether you believe it or not it’s up to you but I sincerely think that you should show a little basic manners, Drow. Not drow manners, maybe more along the lines of elven manners. Well now, that’s a little better, cutie. I’m a simple business man, and I’ve been watching you lately and I have to say I’ve become sort of interested in seeing what sort of trouble you rascals are going to stir up. I’m from Lor by the way, the names Vron…owner of the Gilded Goblin Inn, and the Succulent Succubus bordello and Lady Chance’s game house”

“Ixmif Nyrzul” the kobold chanted. Suddenly his form alters and morphs into a 5’6 tall Elf. Except he doesn’t look like any ordinary elf any of you have ever quite seen. His belly is rotund and like a halfling’s, and he wears a mustache that gives him a sleazy sort of appearance. He is clad in a simple blue tunic and on his stubby digits he wears many garish looking rings, as well as several amulets around his neck which look flashy and gaudy. He flashes you a crooked grin and says “I know all there is to know about you fine folks. It’s my business to know. Nothing goes down in my town without my knowledge of it…hells bells, even the city- lord’s can’t wipe their own asses without my permission. Tell you what, I’m willing to help you out…call it a free favor. Every so often I might call on you, to do something very simple but of a huge favor to me. It might be something like looking into a missing shipment of ale that’s long overdue, or taking care of some ruffian who’s getting rough with my girls. Every so often I’ll return your favors as well…information, weapons, girls, slaves, you get the picture”

POST 12: ENSLAVED

2008-08-02T08:19:00.000-07:00

The elfin mage was quick, chanting words of power beneath his breath he cupped his hands then aimed them at Arik and Hargath. A tongue of scorching fire shot out of the elven mage’s hands and engulfed both cleric and fighter for (save: Arik: 4, Hargath: 5 failed, -18 hp dmg) horribly burning the two. Arik’s cloak caught on fire, and some of his armor was burnt, his eyebrows singed and the horrible stink of burnt hair filled his nostrils.
The Dwarf hurtles his hammer at Arik, which slams into the warrior’s breast-plate and knocks the wind out of him (-9 hp) making him stagger back from the heavy blow. The elf starts cackling in an annoying manner, as though this were all very amusing. The hammer returned to the dwarf’s awaiting grasp and he launches it again at Arik, which strikes him hard in the gut and floors him immediately. Arik falls to the ground, unconscious and dying.
“Cloaker, protect Arik!” Vrail shouted.
(17) Something struck the Dwarf from behind, and a whirring bladed boomerang cut across the dwarf’s left bicep. He looked over his shoulder and sneered at Morganne. “You worthless whore!” he growled.
Vrail casts a spell at the two demi-humans, which appear to be unaffected by her hold person spell.
NEW ROUND:
Initiative: Party: 4, Enemy: 1
MORGANNE is struck by the Dwarf-Hammer straight to her chest, feeling her breast-plate shatter (-20 hp dmg) the dhampir is thrown back and falls hard to the ground, hitting the back of her head on a sharp jagged rock, unconscious.
The Elf casts another spell, throwing some sulfur into the air he conjures a cloud of noxious stink that smells so wretched that Hargath and Vrail both fall to the ground and start to vomit violently.
“Get the necklace, Keak” the Dwarf ordered the elf. The Elf saunters over toward Hargath and removes the platinum necklace from his neck…”You won’t be needing this any longer, you little thief” he said, laughing again.
All went black. The feeling of being dragged was sensed rather than felt, for you were deep inside your own minds somewhere…drifting between worlds. Finally, you awoke and still felt the horrible pain inflicted upon you. You were held inside of a cramped chamber. There was a chamber pot in one corner of the room, some dirty straw in the opposite. Periodically you heard the screams of persons being tormented somewhere, and ominous sounding moans and wailing.
Vrail had tended to your wounds and healed most of you while you were all asleep. Though she herself was badly befouled by the mysterious dwarf’s fell hammer, she was able to retain consciousness long enough to get a spell of healing cast on herself. While being dragged into this cell, she reports that she was able to use her innate suggestion ability to get access to one of her healing potions.
After a few hours of idling in this cell, you’re forcefully taken by two unusually horrid looking half-orcs that escort you into a deep cavernous mine, sometimes shoving or accosting you if you even looked them in the eyes. You now wear manacles and are given pick-axes to work with. There are two ginormous Ogre task-masters who periodically whip a slave or simply bully them to alleviate their boredom. Besides the Ogre's, there are two trolls that guard the main entrance to these mines. One cart full of rocks is being towed by two venerable men when one of the trolls suddenly grabs one by the leg and stuffs the poor doomed soul into his monstrous maw and chomps the man alive with its razor sharp fangs, savoring its prey's struggling. The other human is so stunned and completely horrified that he simply stands there frozen, a stream of urine trickling down from his left leg. Two burly Orogs hastily shove him along and help the human move away from the troll-guards.
Most of the slaves are thin and worn looking humans, though some demi-humans an be seen among them.

Vrail: "Ogres and Trolls working side by side amicably? That doesn't make much sense" she said.

The two ogres smile fiendishly at the introduction of the party, and one laughs evily then shoves the group into a mine-tunnel. The ogre grunts something and two half-orcs saunter along and hands Arandal a bird-cage made of wood, with a single canary inside of it. The Ogre says "Bird die, get out. Dangerous. You go deep, investigate...workers gone. If you die, tough luck, Grog no cares...no come backs without somethings or Grog super mad....might stomp, might eats elf or dwarf tonight...long time since had, heh heh"

POST 11A: The watcher's of the Road

2008-07-30T15:48:00.001-07:00

Arandal felt a painful prick in his lower back, spun around to see a gnome pressing a dagger into him hard. The elf yelps a gasp as true pain ripped through the synapses in his back and rear-end. "Damn elf-mail!" the gnome muttered irately as he withdrew his dagger. To add injury to insult, Arandal felt this fiery burn flood his entire blood-stream, and a horrid pain overcame the elf. He couldn't think straight, and his equilibrium was utterly negated. He knew too that the concentration needed for casting was next to impossible.

Arik, Hargath and Vrail spun around and simultaneously drew their perspective weapons. You all can see two more distinct figures behind the Gnome, one appears to be a Dwarf and the other an Elf, too who seems to be cackling in a demented laughter, and Arik noted that the Elf had a peculiar set in his cobalt eyes…like he was just plain crazy.

Vrail was the first to act. She leveled her hand toward the elf and dropped a sphere of absolute blackness to appear atop his head…blinding him. She then drew a slender sword from her waist and turned toward Arik and said "Prepare for battle, attack the Gnome now! Hurry it up!"

ACTIONS: HARGATH, ARIK, ARANDAL

POST 11: On the Road again

2008-07-29T02:57:00.000-07:00

The party leaves the manor, with fresh provisions, new weaponry, its own collection of hastily scrawled notes and updated maps. The weather is lovely and neither too hot or cold. After leaving the suburbs of Lor behind you, an emerald landscape of soft rolling hills and pastures fills your vision for miles in all direction. The highway you are on is a little jagged but for the most part well maintained and patrolled.

Not three hours into the first leg of the trip does it begin to pour and everyone immediately pulls their cowls low over their heads and their cloaks drawn tight around you. A bolt of lightening cackles from the air and tears down a large tree which then blocks the road up ahead.

Arandal can see a little town or village far to the south, and judging from the map it would be Southern Cross which is a village about 35 miles north of Nyr's southern border.

As Arik and Hargath wait patiently for the Dhampir scout, they wait and wait...and wait....no signal, no Morganne, no nothing.

Vrail: "Something's not right" the drow female said. She turned her head over her shoulder, looking at the black flowing cape that hung from her delicate shoulders..."Cloaker, awaken" Vrail said, then added "Xilmith nyromroq plar" in a strange tongue. Sudden the cape on her shoulders slithered off and flew in a random circular pattern in the air. Every few seconds you caught the sight of a tooth filled maw and strange alien eyes as the 'cloak' cape to a abrupt halt, landed on the ground and started dancing around in a bizarre way. It was suddenly right in front of Hargath, opening a monstrous fang-filled maw and sticking its coiled tongue at the dwarf in a mocking? manner then it squealed what sounded to pass as its laughter. The thing resumed flying until it came in front of Arik, opened its flaps and eyes the Dren with a strange gleam in its eyes...then it laughed more until Vrail scolded it..."Cloaker, get over here, there's work to be done" she said. The drow turned to the group and said "I'll explain later" and she pointed a finger in the direction that Morganne left. The Cloaker seemed to nod and understand,"Investigate" she said.

As the weird creature flew off, Vrail said "A little rememberance of home below the root. My former mentor gave me that creature as a pet, and taught me to speak to it. It is known as a cloaker. Cloaker makes for a good scout, and they are quite highly intelligent and skilled hunters. If it hadn't come with me to the surface I surmise I would have long been dead without the strange food it had pilfered for me through the agonizing first years above the root. It is also one of the best sentries around"

POST 10A: Prep-work for the first mission

2008-07-27T11:37:00.001-07:00

The party worked hard and discussed all of the various angles of the master plan. Daynar’s senseschal brings the party an exquisite meal that far surpassed any of your imaginations: Individual ceramic bowls full of a pink delicious liquid, Giant Crayfish stew. Next came a platter with roast boar, which tasted not unlike very lean pork, and it was cooked to perfection. A platter full of bacon wrapped dates that contained walnuts inside, and a most bizarre looking fruit called Rambutan which appeared to be crimson red with little spikey prongs outside of it. Its fruit was white and tasted heavenly, and you discovered it is elven in origin. Next came several more trays, each containing excellent fare your palate and taste buds are thankful for. One has baby broccoli covered with garlic and lime juice, another full of stone oven baked bread, and at last a huge platter with baby octopus that’s been grilled, and heaping bowls full of a tangy beef stew.
Engorging yourselves on the excellent meal, the group becomes sleepy eyed and everyone retires to their rooms for the night. You are spent from the exhaustive planning, but the meal has lifted your moods and has strengthened your spirits. All of you gain a deep dreamless sleep and wake up around 10ish in the morn. A simple breakfast of toast, poached eggs, coffee, bacon, sausages, and calamsi juice is served.
The seneschal Aubec says, in a polite and dignified manner: “Lord Daynar apologizes he cannot attend breakfast with you, he has left for Corealus to give counsel to the queen, her majesty Everanteska and her new consort Lord Ciordan, Daynar’s second cousin and closest boon companion. Please meet me in the garden once you have broken your fast”
The group is invigorated by the abundant fragrant smells that assails your nostrils once you enter the garden. Once there, an officer approaches the party and bows respectfully before approaching any closer. He says “Greetings. I am Rackhir, lieutenant Rackhir. Which one of you is Arik might I ask?” when Arik stepped forward, the officer continues “I received your report late last night, and I apologize for this lapse in security. Those men who were rendered unconscious were raw, recent graduates from the Royal University in Corealus with romantic delusions of combat and glory in battle. They wish to make amends and regain their pride back, so I’ve assigned them to serve as your assistants. You can use them in whichever manner you wish, as lookouts or sentries. Despite their greenness, I’ve personally trained them and have invested much into their learning, they might even surprise you I’d imagine. They might not be as deadly with blade or other weaponry yet but they’re both clever and seem to share the same brain. Brothers from different mothers as I’d say ”
Some of the nearby guardsmen chuckled as they overheard what Rackhir had said. Rackhir gave them an evil staredown to shut them up.
The two young soldiers came forward, and they brought several warhorses with them, each outfitted with saddles and saddle bags. The steeds were adorned with horse-armor, and their shoes were newly forged off Rook’s anvil. The two soldiers had their hands full of items of all types, ranging from weapons to leather bags, coils of rope, and other odds and ends.

The soldiers step forward and are introduced. The first is a light brown haired guy who looks fairly handsome and strong, but seems to have a expression of confusion forever molded on his face. He talks with a seriousness in his tone, and seems to have a constant question set in his eyes. His companion is a black haired youth who has an expression of innocence on his face, and a goofy laughter set in his eyes. He looks like a puppy dog and seems even more confused than the first guy who at least had a air of confidence to himself.
Rackhir: “Garette and Clive. They’re pretty decent riders, and can use the crossbow and longsword well, as well as can be expected. They eat like half starved orcs, but I’ll give em credit they can take lots of punishment, I’ll give them that. Good luck you two, watch your asses out there on the field…or I’ll come and kick your sorry asses…don’t you dare die on me, I’ll have Lord Daynar raise you from the dead just to kick your asses and you know I’m crazy enough to do it, too”
“Sir, yes sir!” both of the soldier boys said at the same time.
There’s a plethora of requested equipment on the ground. Bedrolls, bars of lava soap, iron rations, tinderboxes, coils of silk rope & grapple, crampons, iron rations & wine/water skins, flasks of sulfuric acid, a crobar, individual hand-held mirrors for signaling or seeing around corners unobserved, scrolls of parchment & ink for mapping purposes, chalk powder for climbing, custom tailored changes of clothing for all characters, flasks of flammable oil, linen strips & herbal ointment for bandaging, some stuff called ‘burn-salve’ for burn-wounds, ‘Nullscent’ which is a odor dampening liquid to mask your scent from canines or Hobgoblins who have acute senses of smell.

ORATH: "Splitting your forces up is suicide. Don't bother, trust me I had to learn the hard way"

The thief then hands each of you a cloak-clasp crafted out of white-gold and bearing the heraldic insignia of House Succundus, a Pheonix with its wings spread, and a quiver of javelins in its talons. "Wear these clasps, they bear a dweomer within them that will allow you to communicate to one another as if you were speaking right into the ear one another. Be careful, they will mark you as agents of Daynar's so if you fall into enemy hands, destroy or get rid of them. Daynar has many political foes so be cautious and alert. They will ONLY operate within a half-mile radius, be warned. Also, once a day you can dimension door to eachother's location, within a 30 ft range. Make sure you know the area you are dooring to, if you don't you might end up part of the ground or a wall or something. I've seen it happen, it aint pretty. When you touch and concentrate, you will know the exact position of one another and even what condition they are in"

POST 10: The rescue plan

2008-07-26T15:33:00.000-07:00

Arik takes the maps and starts to review the whole lay out. Nodding at what he was seeing and making mental notes on certain items on interests. He turns to Orath, "Thanks for the help and the information. I agree with Morganne, we'll have to form up a plan on how to get in and follow a path to get him." Arik turns to the others, "This might seem hard, but if we are patient and take everything situation step by step, things will fall into place. We have to decide on is how to get there and bypass the patrols leading into the castle. Once there, we have to find a way inside. My thing first is to find ways to counter situations, like what Orath was saying about the Captain that is a Werewolf. We can get items to use against him....There is alot to think about and any of you have any ideas, please share them. The more we view this in different angles, the better we can find a good plan to execute...." As he trails off and waits to hear the inputs.

Orath thought long and hard for a moment, sitting in a chair and said "Garosh and me were in there for quite some time. Our mission was to extract and pull out one of our spies we inserted. However, there was a enemy spy in our own house who forewarned the lycan commander of our plan. His name's Lord Devanaster, and he's the one you should ALL worry about. The bastard's a clever little fiend. He knew our plan and set a trap for us, and he tortured Garosh and myself for for an entire month, trying to break our spirits. I stole one of the jail-guards daggers who were carrying me to my regular session and picked the lock with it, also killed the sonofabitch. Let me tell you, eating raw rats isn't the funnest thing. Had to get those gold mongering Lorians to cure the diseases that followed. He's got two mercenary body-guards you should be cautious about. The first is a silver haired dhampir, clad in black with a black eyepatch over his left eye and he wore some kind of black gauntlet on his left hand that looked like a panther-claw to my eyes. I knew he was a dhampir, he seemed so unafraid after I hurtled four daggers into his chest. He simply flexed his chest and the daggers came out of him. The bastard doesn't even wear armor. Also, he fights with two invisible swords that connect to form a double ended weapon.

There is another hatchetman who's a highly skilled archer. This one was worse than the first. He sniped with a composite longbow and shot four arrows at us at a time, each was poisoned. When I was poisoned everything about me diminished...my thoughts to my mood to my body, it was strange. The only cure I discovered was Dwarven whiskey, go figure. Fortunately I seduced a druidess once in the Black Forest who I infuriated for accidently burning one of her tree's and setting part of the forest ablaze while drunk. She summoned a water elemental and put out the fire, and was about to outright blast me to hell for my lack of reverence for her stupid religion. I told her okay go ahead and kill me but give me a last meal and she accepted, but I slipped a love potion into her water and she fell in love with me a--"

GAROSH: "Get on with the report you idiot, times crucial"

ORATH: "Oh for the love of hell can't I hog the glory for once, lord of modesty and humility?"

GAROSH: "No, you can't. Now, to answer fangs query well Morganne Orath's right, that archer is your worst nightmare. You can't catch this evil sonofabitch. He'll put an arrow in your heart from a mile away. As far as the water supply, we don't know we haven't scouted the guts of the place thoroughly, but I'd say it is Dwarven by design. I noted that the liege lord had many Dwarf-slaves and Gnomes which he treated exceedingly well. If you meet any of them, free them or help them as best as you can and tell them you're my friend.

Arik once you're inside the castle, there aren't too many of your countrymen inside. Mostly Hobgoblin guards, who will be afraid of you and they will be subservient too. Hargath's cover could be that he's one of the dwarf-slaves in the construction groups. You will need to strategize ways to distract. You might have to have a secondary exit strategy, possibly entering the second level of the dungeon. Oh, and be careful...you see this hall I marked as the Hall of Life-Trapping? Well Lord Devanaster had its walls mounted with five mirrors of life trapping. I know first hand I was caught inside one until Orath, being the thief and all shattered the mirror that held me, and all the others too witth a sling"

Arandal's eyes pour over the maps, commiting each twist and turn to memory.

"Arik is correct, we need a very good plan to accomplish this mission. I would suggest, to use the time well, that we might want to split into groups to work through some of the challenges and then we come back together to see if the plan works. Some of the key challlenges I think are the approach, getting in and moving around the castle, some of the more difficult individuals, for example the captain, and the fact that we will be very outnumbered by quite strong foes.

Looking at the map a couple of things come to mind. For us to move around the castle we will need to be very lucky or else be disguised. I would suggest there are some ways that we can use powers of sorcery to help but a straight forward option may be to acquire Black Guard uniforms. There seems to be a harem and pool on the first floor of the dungeon which may give us an excuse to escort the new members of the harem down.

If we are to try sneaking through, the ranking officers room is one of the most direct routes into the ground floor that is closest to the dungeons."

Sighing Arandal sits back, closing his eyes to ponder the challenge. "The biggest difficulty I see is getting out. We may be able to sneak in or use the women as cover but if we alert the guards we will not get out of there and therefore will fail our mission. I think the suggestion of the distraction is a good one. Of course, it may not need to be an either / or, we could look to presuade these bird people to help us which may be a way to get in and out quickly but use the giants to provide a distraction to allow us to get our work done."

Opening his eyes, he looks at the group. "Thoughts?"

Orath : "The Cloud Giant King would be maliable and can be convinced if you have a solid plan. If you could convince him to aid you, you can set them to execute a frontal assault and hurl boulders at the main portculli and stir the castle up like a bee hive. In the ensuing chaos you can easily make your escape. Just be advised that the captain of the giant king's retinue of guards is an evil sort. Thats the strange thing about Cloud Giants some of em are good and some evil, no middle ground. If I were you, I'd try to divert his attention with a little misdirection then sneak in to see the king. The king is a proud dignified sort. He won't care whether he likes or dislikes you as long as you show him his due respect and kiss his ass a little...tell him that you heard Cloud Giants are better than Stone Giants at rock throwing, that sort of rot...that is, if you all have the stones to visit them cloud idiots" Orath said with sarcastically, chomping on an apple and tossing one to everyone, as if testing their dexterity. He purposely throws two to Arandal and 4 to Morgonne, in an annoying way.

"Cut it out!" Garosh says, whapping him over the head. The thief just laughs and throws two apples at the fighter that hits him square in the face..."Nice catch" Orath added, grinning..."Okay to hell with all of this seriousness lets have us some fun and laughs kids"

GAROSH: "Nevermind him. Anyways, Arandal you gave me an idea. If you were to free many of the slaves and get them flood the upper level, you could cause all hell to break loose. Also, Aronis might be able to give you some explosive power...he is an alchemist you know and has extensive knowledge of elixirs too, so be sure to pick his mind"

welcome

2008-07-26T15:02:00.001-07:00

welcome

POST 05: AMBUSH

2008-07-11T08:19:00.000-07:00

The bulk of you spend a few furious moments dropping your traveling gear and lightening your loads, removing packs and extraneous equipment that would only hamper your reflexes. Garosh stood between two trees and ripped out a heavy crossbow in his hands, cocking the safety off. Hargath finished greedily devouring a drumstick of roast lamb that Garosh gave to him only a few minutes past. The human fighter said "Stay close to me, dwarf, and use any holy water that you gots" he said. Taking a bead the blonde haired fighter shot two missles at nothing seemingly, pivoting the crossbow at an upward angle. As you peered intently into the thick of the forest you saw two pairs of crimson red eyes glowering with an eldritch light, burning like the flowers of hell. The bolts blasted into a Hellhound, and then it became a frozen statue of ice the next minute.

A pack of hell-hounds came into view after the party positioned themselves in the most strategically advantageous places they could find. The hideous canines ran fast, and each of their paws left a scorching print in the wake of their paths. They stepped over the poisoned caltrops Morgonne laid out for them, but the barbed metal things were bent and misshapen under their paws.

There were seven of them in all. Three broke away from the main pack and bolted toward Arik and Hargath, while Vrail clambered up the tree adjacent to Morgonne.

Morgonne took out a peculiar weapon that looked like a blade-edged boomerang and sent it flying low towards the infernal beasts. The weapon cut along one of the first hounds rib-cages opening up a portion of its flesh there, a jet of hellfire shot out of the wound.

POST 04: Elven Captives

2008-07-09T08:17:00.000-07:00

The Dwarf spoke: "Commander, I can vouch for the dark elf. You know that their is no love lost between the dwarves and her kind, but she has shown courage and unselfishness. Surely, this has at least won her a chance to a fair trial?"

Bowgentle looked at the dwarf, shaking his head in annoyance. "I'd never thought I'd see the day when a Dwarf came to the defense of a miserable drow. But fine, I release her into your custody, be careful she doesn't stray from your side and if she does any evil I will hold you accountable for her actions" the elf motioned for the elves to free the drow elf. They followed behind her with bows knocked and drawn, cautious and alert.

As the mage enters, the dwarf is again taken aback.

"By Dumathoins beard, I find myself again at a disadvantage. And do you know me sir?" He says, now with slight aggravation to the spellcaster.

The black robed magic-user peered up and looked at Hargath with a curious glance. He had a head full of silver hair, which looked unusual for a man of obvious young years. His eyes were gray and exuded intelligence, mirth, and perception. He was a handsome human, tall, and lean. He nodded affirmatively toward Hargath 'You're Hargath of Ironholme, are you not? My liege summoned you. However, you were duped and deceived by an agent of the bandit lord Scar, who was dispatched to intercept and capture anyone that resembled an adventurer along the highway that connects Nyr to the Black Forest Kingdom. The bandit-scout that kidnapped you was Stank, who lead us here. I charmed him into telling us where he took you, and Vrail"

Behind the ebony robed mage stepped a slender semi-tall black clad figure with a hood over his head. He sauntered over toward everyone and he had steely almond shaped eyes that were coffee colored, black shoulder-length hair and he strode along confidently toward Bowgentle, giving him a very insincere low bow. He was clad entirely in black, and Hargath recognized him as the same man that the bandit who captured him was impersonating. He then said to the elf, "We'll take these fine personages off your hands, Gladden Bowgentle, if you'd be so kind you can give us a safe escort through the direwood. We're to stop by the Gnome King's secret citadel and say hello, pay him homage and get thoroughly innebriated with some much deserved merrymake. Your fine empress owes me a shitload of favors already, so pardon if we don't bend over and kiss your ass"

"Go ahead, Orath, take the rabble away and I'll send along an escort to accompany you out of the elven controlled woods, but I'd better not see any of these black nigglings ever. You'd best advise these two to strip themselves of that black armor and uniform less they wish to die prematurely. They'd already attacked Helmsguard and in their assault massacred many of my mens families. The Grugach won't let them pass living through the passage you take, if they find you you shant receive warmth and loving, friend. Out of respect for your services to the throne, I'll let you go, but remember what I'd said...the Grugarch will assail any and without prejudice" the elf turned toward the magic-user Aronis and said "My blade, if you'd be so kind master Tenspells" to which the mage sends the elf-lord's sword back to his grasp.

Orath turned to the group and said "Take off those blasted uniforms, you idiots, and move along. Garosh good to see you again, what in the nine hells are you doing in that get up? You trying to become a ranger now eh? Heh heh thats not going to enable you to bed any hapless elf-whores you dotard"

Garosh wore a feigned exaggerated look and chuckled, "I'm a warden of the woods now, high protector of the forests so watch your tongue you blaster. Come on, Daynar wants the demi-humans and the Dren, along with the disguised dhampir there back at the manor yestereve"

Orath: "Nay, we're taking a little detour to the Gnome King, he owes us a bit of Gnomish hospitality, and perhaps some wenches too...bit short but who cares! haha"

Garosh chuckled..."You foul pig, watch yourself, aint paying for your healing again, especially after that last debacle! Even for you that was too much...stealing from the very priests who healed you of your ailment in your manhood is not a wise thing to do"

On Fri, Jul 11, 2008 at 12:21 PM, Michael Adams wrote:

Morganne: "finally!! some more action!!" Morganne exclaims while loading a glue bolt into her wrist bow as she runs a few yards behind the group to spread some of the poisoned caltrops she found on the monk earlier. Morganne looks for a tree with a sturdy branch and leaps up to get into positionand draws Corvus from his scabbad scanning the distance for signs of the approaching hell hounds....

Morganne will stay hidden until she can spot the approaching threat. Morganne will deplete her supply of caltrops by spreadig them on the ground on the most likely path the hounds will take and then will stay hidden up in the trees to wait to launch Corvus.

On Fri, Jul 11, 2008 at 11:53 AM, Jason Chaotic wrote:

Orath shrugged, "I haven't a damned clue, but he fills my purse plenty nuff. You'll earn yer keep fer sure, and sometimes might seem like a light load but is more important than appearances would make ya guess at...steely sonofabitch duped me too a few times in the past. Gotta respect someone who can get the best o' myself"

The female half-elven ranger that was next to Garosh pulled her cloak over her head and moved forward, and Aronis said something to her and she shook her head. Mounting one of the horses she shot ahead of the party. The mage began chanting softly, 'Mulkondoz xilthrak nyrmurul' and pulling arcane effects from his many-pouched belt, tracing runes in the air. Everyone gave a wide startled berth when the ground shook violently and out of it sprung a towering vaugely humanoid form wrought out of pure rock.

Aronis: "Myrtuk soshmelnis forth' he whispered softly to the Earth Elemental. It began stomping forward ahead of the party, each lumbering step it took shook the ground noticeably.

"What the hells going on?" Orath asked the mage demandingly.

Aronis: "Celeste saw some strange footprints about a half mile behind us, looked like humanoid tracks. She's gone to scout ahead of us"

Suddenly, not a minute later a gleaming arrow pierces over the forest roof from somewhere ahead and thuds into a high branch above, its feathered shaft appeared red.

Aronis: "Prepare yourselves for battle. Sable, charge ahead, Worg riders attacking from the northeast. Morgonne, Arik, Hargath, VraIl there's a pack of hellhounds closing in on us from behind. Hold them off if you can! Garosh give them some fresh steeds and go with them!"

DECLARE PREPATORY ACTIONS

POST 01: MORGANNE

2008-07-05T08:13:00.000-07:00

Behind the door were several children with terrified looks of uncertainty on their faces.
You sneeze once more, your accute sense of smell was very sensitive to dust and pollens. The monk turned in your direction, and you remember well that monks were very perceptive and alert. This one wore the garb of the order which served Dezloz. What do you do?
NEW: Krattis took point, and he moved with a flight of feet that momentarily surprised you. You were what appeared to be nothing more than a simple storage chamber full of crates, barrels and sacks. Pulling down on a bullseye lantern hanging from the middle of the ceiling, a section of the far wall sprung open in answer. Beyond, more dust…the smell of old bones and mildew…even though you now wore a mask you could decipher what dwelt nearby and it was definitely a crypt.
The children you found were quiet, and their eyes radiated a keen awareness you didn't see in children their age. Four boys and two girls in all. Dezloz sought them, and he wouldn't rest until he had them.
Your keen instincts alert you to another presence, one that's intangible. In your spectral sight you saw a black robed priest inside of a tent, peering into a bowl of water and spying on you…a smile brightened on his face, the only aspect of the figure's ominous face you could make out. Strangely he had a resemblance to a cleric of Lor, but somehow different and you realize he be a member of the Black Sect. A rogue faction of the Lorian clergy who used what they knew for personal power over others. The temple of Wrath had sent you to destroy their ranks on many missions, and like vermin they'd rise and grow in number elsewhere. They were formidable, treacherous, not to be taken lightly. You almost wish it'd been simply a mage.
"You pathetic fools cannot hide from the clutches of Dezloz, little worms" the dark priest hissed venomously. You could hear him chanting in a foul corrupt speech. The many skeletons in the crypt rose and animated. Suddenly the began to saunter towards the six children with menace. The priests scrying stopped abruptly. Calling on your own deity, you shone your holy symbol and felt a surge of pure power flow through your being. Suddenly the skeletons ceased their advancement, raised their bony hands to cover their faces and then collapse each into a heap of ashen dust. Without your divine power, those skeletons might have easily strangled one of these younglings.
"Good work!" Krattis said in an elated way. "Not every day a priestess of Wrath comes along to help out an overworked monk" he says with a dry chuckle. Once you clear the crypt, he opens up another secret door and reveals a hidden entrance connecting into the sewers. The dust thankfully clears, only to be replaced with the horrrid smell of feces, sulfur, and urine
"Be on your guard, no telling what sort of foulness lurks throughout here" he said.
After sludging through the foulness Krattis and yourself elevate two of the children and balance them on your shoulders, making sure none of them gain disease. For an agonizing ten minutes you traverse through the low ceiling sewer when you stop and overhear some guardsmen above, through a narrow cylinder passage that leads to a grate about 10' above your head:
Guardsmen #1: "Don't worry sir, nothing's gonna get past. They'll be flushed out sooner or later"
Guardsmen #2: "The lieutenant commander said someones helping em, maybe a thief or a mage"
Two wererats emerged out of a secret opening in the side of the passage. Their bodies looked human but their heads were that of an enormous hideous sewer rat. You didn't have much fear of such creatures, for dhampirs possessed influence over rats and lycans like vampires did. So the two wererats instantly changed form and reverted into their human likeness. You sensed that they were under your power, transfixed with glazed expressions on their faces…in effect, they were thoroughly charmed. One of the young girls held onto you with tightness that seemed too strong for such a young girl, strength that once more surprised you. The girl had stark black hair and gray eyes that absorbed the colors of green and blue easily.
Not having time to contemplate this, a whizzing crossbow bolt went flying past your head and you saw the faces of the black guardsmen further down the passage you came from. They each had torches lit, some had bullseye lanterns too.
The girl pulled your hair lightly…"Make the bad men go away"

POST 1.1: Morganne

2008-06-28T19:17:00.000-07:00

Morganne: "...not too worry youngling...hold on tight to each other while we deal with these bad men" Morganne says softly and reassuringly to the children. With the were-rats charmed, Morganne directs them to kill the soldiers and clear the path for them. Morganne draws her favored heritage weapon, the ebony hued adamantium glaive Corvus, With a snap of her wrist she extend it's deadly talons and waits for the opportunity to strike.

The were-rats chittered something you couldn’t understand, but sensed that it meant they understood and would lend their help. The soldiers in front of the pursuing band shouted cries of alarm and to prepare for battle. Their arrows blasted into the were rats but didn’t penetrate their skin. The wererats overpowered the two soldiers who shot at them, cutting them down with vicious strokes of their blades, and viciously gnarling into their exposed skin where they could.
Undaunted, the lead soldier made a hand gesture behind him when two crossbowmen came forward and fired at the were-rats. These missiles hissed as they plunged into the hideous creatures bodies, probably laced with silver. The wererats fell prey to the silver arrows. You launched corvus down the tunnel and heard it whirl its deadly sound, though some of the guardsmen ducked the whirring blade cut one man along his jugular, and severed another's wrist clean off as it returned to your hand. The man with the severed limb collapsed against the wall of the tunnel, but didn't scream once...merely tore off his own cloak and took his torch to the bloodied stump and even then, not a peep.
The guardsmen were gaining, and fast…much faster that you would have guessed. Krattis spun around and his eyes widened as he just noticed them. He plucks a sai from his belt and launches it with great skill at a section of the tunnel wall, right next to one of the lead guardsmen. The sai hits a hidden lever there, dropping a portcullis on top of the two guardsmen and killing them instantly, breaking ones neck and drowning the other by pinning him beneath the filthy foulness of the sewer.
“Run!” Krattis yelled with such urgency in his tone. A scorching sphere of flame came flying down the passage, engulfing everything in its wake, even smelting the limestone quarry that formed the passage. Grabbing the two children who were trotting along with you, you leap out of the passage as intense scorching flames licks at your body and face, and burning some of your hair (-5 hp). Some of the flames were repelled by your armor, though your eyebrows and some hair were was scorched, the very smell of which makes you swoon…however the flames could have badly wounded one of the little tykes. You knew that it was only a matter of time before you could renegerate from this.
Once outside the foul sewers, you saw that you were directly beneath a stone wrought footbridge that spanned an acre wide retention pond. Two bolts fly out of the passage and one grazes one of the young boys across the knee…blood begins pouring profusely out of the wound. But you didn’t have any time to attend to the injured child, for something was drawn to the splashing of the tepid water, something formidable. The young boy’s terrified expression gave you warning and you ripped your black sword from its scabbard before turning to face this new menace. An alligator sprung out of the surrounding pond you were now in and locked its jaws around your ankle. You felt a sudden powerful tug as it dragged you deeper underwater to drown you beneath it. Before you could do anything the reptile spun in a circular motion, preventing you from attacking it or even reaching it with your sword. This jerking was so strong that your blade fell from your grasp and rapidly began to plunge deeper into the depths of the dark pond. The only weapon which would prove effective was your wrist-bow. You shot it at the creature’s left eye, and it sunk deep into it. The harpoon bolt sprung open inside of the reptile, and when you yanked on the chord you pulled out a piece of its skull. Instead, however, of being dead and lifeless the alligator’s body was covered in white for a split second then morphed into the body of a young female magic-user who’s now limp form rose to the top of the pond.
By the time you swam down to retrieve the hungry blade, you reached the top of the pond and felt relieved as your starved lungs gasped for air. The alligator’s teeth had pierced your leggings and cut into your skin deeply (-15 hp dmg) Morgonne clambers out of the pond, finding herself alone. It seems that Krattis has taken flight into the woods. However, that didn’t mean much considering there were six black guard running toward her. Even worse, a black robed magic-user and one of the dark gray robed monks were right behind them.
“Where’d the little brats go, you pissant?” the mage hissed in a smooth even tone. He was walking down the tunnel towards you, while the six guardsmen were trying to surround you on all sides.
Guardsmen #1: “Drop your weapons, wench!”
The mage roared “Nevermind her, you worthless buffoons! Get after those brats they’re escaping! I’ll contend with this stinky little vixen. I think I’ll try out some of my new drow spells on you, girl…”
The mage begins chanting softly and very rapidly. You’d seen Aronis do such before, and this mage spoke with equal skill in the tongue of sorcery. Black wavering tentacles burst out of the depths of the pond and snake around your arms, legs, neck, waist and perfectly pin you.
The magic-user removed his hood and stepped forward, and you saw that his face was deceptively handsome. Wrapped around his belt was a thin black chain that ended in a blade. His hair was dirt blonde and he had these cobalt colored eyes that shined with an unnatural luster. His face looked artificial, not real, almost as if his flesh h out of plastic. “Such is the power of those who serve my master, my dear. Now, tell me who you are or I will destroy you irrevocably. Let me know the name of the foolish mortal that had the audacity to meddle in the affairs of Dezloz.”

Morganne: Thinking quickly while this mage is deep in his monologue, Morganne whispers a prayer to Wrath to dipell the ties that bind her and once free will draw Asp and strike the mage with the invisible blade

The black tentacles shrink and wither back into the earth after you dispelled them.

"Impressive" the mage muttered in annoyance, his lips pursed into a slight grin. Morgonne rushed at the mage with her sword, but he took two steps back, growled something and vanished in a sudden flash of blue light. He reappeared the next second atop the footbridge, a condescending laugh escaping from him. In anger he rips out a wand from his belt and levels it at a tree next to you. Yelling some arcane command word a bolt of lightning sizzles forth and slices the tree down upon you. At the last second you leapt out of its falling path.

"You silly fool! Did you think to skewer me so easily? I've bested far better than the likes of you, you flame haired harlot. Tien, deal with this nuissance, I shalt go and see to the children" then leaping off the bridge the magic-user began hovering into the air and flew away speedily.

A black robed monk came upon Morgonne, jumping into the air and kicking at her three times, twice in the chest and once in the nose. She staggered back from the hard blows, feeling her nose break from the impact of the fighting monk's powerful leg. Already she felt the stinging brokeness inside mending within, felt the alligator's tiny fangs pushing out of the little holes in her leg as they sealed themselves shut. The monk's blows were powerful, like a horses. His fourth kick misses you as you leapt out of the way, but cracks a young tree in half from the force instead. Despite the monks fighting ability he moved slow to you, sluggish, not fluid or incredibly fast as a vampire moved. Then the monk's movements began increasing in speed, matching your own. He wore a condescending smile on his face, "It's useless to fight the will of the master, girl. Why do you resist?"

Morganne: Sheathes Asp and begins to Circle away from the monk, reaching up to feel the damage done to her nose she replies "...whoa, Whoa there!! I don't know who this Master of yours is but where i'm from you don't just throw the baby out with the wash tub!!" Morganne reasons that this monk is probably too dangerous to tangle with using normal means..noticiing his movements, Morganne moves to keep distance between them.
"....look really this is all just a wrong place at the wrong time kind of thing? I've no idea who those kids are..or were and personally i don't really care either!!" Morganne tries to reason with the monk. ".....that other..guy dressed just like you!! He's the one who killed those gurards and freed those kids!! I didn't even know this place was even still here!! I used to play here as a kid and was passing through!" Morganne takes note of her surroundings and looks for something to give her an advantage if she c an. ".....look, i'm not totally callus, i've got an older sister ho used to look out for me whe we wer kids!! Besides!! Your guy attacked me first!! You can't expect a person not to defend themselves can you? Tell you what...lets let bygones be bygones and go our separate was? you can go that way and i'll find another way to travel?" Morganne smiles sheepishly (charm) while fingering a bit of a flash powder in her hands in case she needs to make a quick escape

Morgonne feels the broken bones in her nose start to mend on its own, the pain lessened a bit and the damage was more hurtful to her pride than anything else. In a few minutes it would be fully restored, though if one could simply quaff a potion of healing. Such a waste of resources would be a unforgivable lapse in common sense, however.

The monk laughed belittlingly, raising a dismissive hand he said with a sneer: "As you said, wrong place at the wrong time. Nothing personal but you must die, you've witnessed far too much to just let you go. Spare me your feminine wiles, wench! I've not dedicated my entire life to the perfection of mind and body to be so easily swayed by tawdry enchantments!" he smiled and chuckled mirthlessly. His laughter was condescending.

A chain fell out of the monk's right sleeve, each end had a weighed ball on it. Launching it at your legs, the chain wrapped around your ankle. The monk yanked hard and tried to send you crashing to the ground, but instead Morgonne used the force to leap into the air and summersault backwards onto a low tree-branch. Instinctively you grab corvus from its sheath and let if fly at the monk, the whirring bladed weapon spun fast and flew accurately. The monk positioned his body straight back and arched his torso backward, and Corvus simply flew over him by a hairs breadth. He turned to face Corvus speeding back toward him and sidestepped. Corvus knicked the monk across his left cheek and cut a bloodied line there (-1 hp) before returning to hand. He touched the wound and examined the blood, gave you a murderous glare and sprung high up into the air towards you. The monk's leg hits you hard in the neck, knocking you back from the impact of the skilled strike. Morgonne landed on one palm, and pushed herself onto her feet in an instant. He leapt toward you faster than a blink of an eye, Morganne attempted to defend herself and slashed low towards his legs, cutting his unarmored flesh for -5 hp dmg.

"You should have fled while you had the chance, now I'm going to destroy you" he spat.

Morgonne swung and struck the monk twice, cutting into his flesh deeply with masterfully delivered attacks. Asp sent a shiver of pure ellation up your spine, thanking you for its blood meal. The monk came back at you, undeterred. He sends a fist at your face which you dodge, then strikes you with a palm strike to your chest, one which makes you stagger back and clutch the area where his palm hit you. He laughed triumphantly in a self congradulatory way..."You've just been dealt my most deadliest attack, one which I only reserve the honor for those worthy of dying by it. I disrupted your life force, sending a ripple throughout your body. You'll be dead in minutes! Say your prayers, I'll leave you here to die and let your carcass feed the ravens"

Your body feels sluggish and slow, and the monk starts to saunter away. In minutes you feel your lungs constrict, your heart begins to slow down and you slip into unconsciousness. You were in actuality dying, and would have had you been fully human. Instead, the human aspect of you momentarily did die, but the vampire portion of you reopened your lungs, and kickstarts your heart to pump all of that stolen lifeblood back into your veins. The monks own blood was in you now...and it was powerful blood...clean, pure unlike many past foes you faced.

Morgonne rose on her feet, taking Asp and sheathes it. through a foggy haze, Morganne slowly stalks after her retreating foe.

loading a harpoon bolt into her wrist bow Morganne runs at the nearest tree and launches herself into the air, grabbing limbs and catapaulting g herself into the air. "...no friend, you had to pick the hard way didn't you.." she says outloud to herself. Using her innate agility and speed, Morganne get to within striking distance of the trotting monk who as of yet is still unaware that his deadly attack failed to kill her. With the blessing of wrath, Morganne takes aim and fires her relatively mid range harpoon bolt at the back of themonk, smiling as she sees it strike true and wishing she could see the look on his face.as he sis suddenly dismounted from his horse and held aloft in the air. Morganne fires a glue bolt from her wrist bow at the now suspended monk to further bind him and make any chance of escape futileMorganne releases the grapple and watches iamazement as the monk lands like a cat on his feet.This monk is most certainly too dangerous to leave roaming around.

"Dont look so surprised, you're not the fust to have their victory snacthed from their grasp like you were pulled from your saddle!! You had a chice to le bygones be bygones but instead you chose the hard way and now you've got me standing here, uncharacteristically monologuing like your spell binder comrade from before..." Morganne draws bloodkiss from his scabbard and slowly circles thebound monk...no doubt if i let you go you would somehow find a way to repay me for making a fool of yourself eh? Maybe not today or tomorrow but eventually you would wouldn't you?" Morganne reasons."I don't have the time nor the inclination of having to constantly wonder if today is the day my enemies exact their revenge.."
with our any further explanation, Morganne gives the monk last rites and plungesBloodkiss deep into the monk's chest, feeling again the sweet pure life energy flood her body, all of her injuries medng themselfes and restoring her to full strength.
Sheathing Blookiss once more, Morganne searches the monks lifeless body for anthing that could prove useful to her. Then, after firing a flame bolt into the monks remains, reduces his body and clothing to ash.

Mounting the dead monk's horse, Morganne continues on in the direction that she believes the children wer heading. "...i hope Krattis can keep those childern safe"

POST 00: Morganne

2008-06-27T16:28:00.000-07:00

START: Morganne's preturnatural instincts were buzzing and alive, almost as though they had a will all of their own. She overheard bits and pieces of conversation and smelled men throughout the vicinity. She sensed these men were well groomed and bathed, and even their armor was squeaky clean. You sat behind some shrubs and foliage surrounded by the towering trees of the Pale forest. This forest was the place of your upbringing, and you had many fond memories growing up therein. From playing in the abandoned elven tree-fort to exploring the secret bandit hideout during the small recesses that Elhondra permitted. These soldiers were dragging young orphans away into these mobile slave pens. Their fates would be sealed if they'd be taken back to wherever they were bound for. One little girl suddenly broke out of line and made a run for the nearby woods. One of the guardsmen snarled ‘Stop her! She’s escaping!’. “The hell she is” another guardsman said with a sinister grin. He unleashes a huge black mastiff that mauls the poor girl and eviscerates her. The gaping soldiers watch in fascination, mesmerized as the foul mutt consumes the slain child. “Good lesson for the rest of these little pigshits” the guard said with a callous laugh. You felt anger swell up in a tight knot in your chest. One on one you could easily take on several of these soldiers, but their sheer numbers were overwhelming. You’ve heard of Dezloz’s minions, soldiers trained at birth and highly organized. Each of these men were veteran fighters and have advanced military prowess.

You stole past two unweary guardsmen, each were wearing black polished field plate, reflective and of an attractive looking grade. It must have costed a kings hoard to have outfitted all of these soldiers in such superbly crafted armor. All the guards needed do was to tilt their head in your general direction to have noticed you, but they were engrossed in a conversation.

Guardsman #1: “I’m tired of this bullcrap, Trent. This is the tenth blasted orphanage we’ve hit…what gives with this? I’d rather be gutting me some more of them Jez’zurian swine”

Guardsman #2: “Ah stop yer yapping, Dezloz wants these little scallywags rounded up. Said we’re all gonna get some good coin for the lot. The little shits will be useful…the more fairer of them will make some of the man happy when they’s gets older. The rest r’ for the block”

Morgonne moved silently along the walls of the ancient monastery, coming to a part where a lone rain barrel stood. It was full of stagnated water, but she removes a plug in the side and drains it fast. As she enters into it, she disturbs a small hive of mosquitos. Only herself, and the brotherhood of monks were immune. The little blood sucking insects couldn't pierce her flawless preternatural skin. While most of the monks had trained in the technique of ironskin and were also impervious to these annoying bloodsuckers sating their thirst on them. They did well to shoo off any curious souls, however.

Groping in the dark, looking for a hidden panel, the two guardsmen suddenly move and begin sauntering in your direction. Peering through the hole, you see one has a crossbow in his hands, and the other is holding a torch high on one hand and a sword in the other. "Thought I heard one of them little whelps just a’now. Keep sharp"

Found it! Your hand turns a hidden knob. The bottom of the barrel retracts and slithers open. You begin sliding down a chute and are dumped onto a stack of sacks, each full of corn meal, barley and wheat. Surrounding you are enormous wooden barrels full of meade and wine. This sub basement serves as a storage area for the monks enterprise of producing and distilling absinthe.

Wine Cellar

You’re in a wine cellar directly below the halls of dis. In the center of the room is a wooden beam post where a crobar and a length of rope hang on a hook. Cobwebs are everywhere, and the floor is covered with a thick layer of dust. The dust makes your eyes water and you start sneezing rather loudly…loudly by YOUR standards that is which isn’t as loud as others.

Morganne hears some noises nearby, and see a group of black guardsmen being lead by one of those monks you saw earlier clad in dark robes. Overhearing the monk say “The ‘special’ children I mentioned are hidden behind that door” the soldiers then eagerly push past the monk and rush toward the indicated door. Once open, a huge lucern hammer swings down and strikes the lead soldier hard in the face…breaking his nose.

The monk sprung into action. In a incomprehensive motion blur he was punching, eye-gouging, jump kicking, and foot sweeping the guardsmen surrounding him. He broke one’s arm with a simple lock, kicked another in the face so hard he went flying against the wall and made an impactful imprint, and with one punch actually killed one soldier.