(HotDQ-14) A river of blood... (part 2)

"Do you wish to return to the world?" 

Two of the party are dead. The other two are being entertained (captive?) by a childhood friend of Venmir and Nyvan who is now a member of the Cult of the Dragon.

Starring, in order they sit around the table:
Nyvan, (played by Jason) a elven knight, deceased.
Venmir, (played by Brett) an elven clergyman, who likes cursing and being grumpy - he is especially touchy about death. 
Sigurd, (played by Iain) a travelling swordsman, deceased.
Rodin, (played by Lorne) the sullen dwarven axeman (absent this week).
Nandrin, (played by Hilton), the elven mage, who likes flames, property damage and the phrase "OOC: WTF just happened?".

and The DM, (played by Alex), who loves to comment in blue. And writes this blog. He's also a bit of a git and likes to make life difficult for his players.

In the second part of this session, the two remaining party members are a little confused. WTF do they do next? I suggest a canoe, as they're riding a river of blood... (muwuhahaha!)

Venmir and Nandrin tried to relax, but failed. Sigurd and Nyvan were dead, they were "guests" of the dragon cult and their options were looking slim. They waited in silence.

After a short while, Talis entered the room and stood before them.

"I cannot tell you how sorry I am that this happened. Had I known who it was, we would not be where we are now. All I saw was my guards in battle with strangers and my home burning. I did what I had to do to protect my property. In any case, we must move forward. I take it you had something to do with Rezmir and Azbara Jos flying through the portal and heading out of here like their underpants were on fire?"

"Perhaps." replied Venmir.

"Then "perhaps" we do not need to be at odds, and "perhaps" we can be of use to one another. While I regret the deaths of Sigurd and Nyvan, we must move forward. I require your help. In return, I will help you. What say you?"

"I say tell me what you want, and tell me how you can help those of us that are left?"

"Very well. Tell me what you want, and we can negotiate. Why are you here and what are your intentions?"

Venmir spoke slowly, with great menace. "We are here to stop your friends in the cult from bringing Tiamat back. And we are here to slay Rezmir and her pet mage. And we are here to recover the riches stolen from Greenest."

"Well, the former you cannot stop, so you are welcome to do what you want. The latter two, however, I can and will happily help you with. The death of Rezmir and her failure to provide the riches in the latest caravan would benefit me greatly." she smiled at the two elves, "In return, I will give you the password to Skyreach Castle, and means to access it if it has already left..."

"Already left? What do you mean?" asked Nandrin.

"The cult is transporting these goods to Skyreach Castle, where it will taken to it's final destination. The Castle belongs to a cloud giant and flies. At present it is moored near Parnast, a small village half a days travel from here. You need a password to bypass the guards, and if it has already left, I will provide you with wyvern mounts. In return, you will travel to a manor house near here, and recover a book which belongs to me. It is called the Book of Illusion and it's previous owner stole it from me. He has warded his home, and I cannot enter, nor can most of my guards. Those who could, were not seen again. Do we have a deal?"

"Yes...but one last point. Where are our friends' bodies?" asked Venmir, unhappily.

"I am taking care of them. You need no more. My guards will see you to your quarters. Goodbye, Venmir." she stepped forward to kiss the cleric on the cheek, but stopped at a glare. She turned and left the room.

Wessic, Talis' manservant and bodyguard, lead them to a room, where they rested.

---------------------------------

Sigurd ran across a green field. The sun shone down, and birds sang in the air. He could smell grass, and from a distance, a wood fire and something being roasted. He could faintly hear singing. Ahead was a small hill. Beyond that, glory. Ahead lay Valhalla! He had died gloriously, in battle and would join his ancestors who had also died with honour. This was what it meant to be a man! 

As he approached the summit, the wind died, the sun disappeared behind a cloud and the air grew dark and heavy. A female voice broke the silence.

"Sigurd! Your time on Faerun is not done. Do you wish to return?"

"Will I have a chance to find glory in battle and continue my quest?" he replied.

"Yes."

"Then send me back."

He felt a strange pull between his shoulders, which turned into an unstoppable force, and he slipped into unconsciousness at the force.

---------------------------------

Nyvan walked along an ivory hallway. It lead to the eternal throne room of Corellon Larethian. He would pay homage, and then take his place among his god's celestial guardians.

A voice broke his silent reverie. It seemed strangely familiar.

"Nyvan! Your time on Faerun is not done. Do you wish to return and continue your quest?"

"Yes! I want to....."

His reply was cut short and he felt himself rushing backwards through the tunnel. He faded to black.

---------------------------------

Sigurd and Nyvan awoke at the same time, startled by a door slamming shut near them. They tried to sit up, but found themselves so weak, they could barely lift their heads. They were in a well-appointed room, and lay in beds opposite one another. In between them stood a manservant. He glanced from one to the other, and simply said, "Rest." before leaving the room. They both fell asleep almost instantly. 

Wessic walked to the room where Venmir and Nandrin rested. They were awake and he walked in. Nandrin was red-faced and Venmir hurriedly tucked in his tunic.

"Please, come with me." he said.

They stood and followed.

He lead them to a room. To their amazement, Sigurd and Nyvan were asleep, peacefully. 

"What is this?" asked Venmir. "And how?"

"My mistress has summoned them back. However, it has depleted her immensely, and she will need to rest for at least two days. As will your friends. Then, she says, you are to recover the book for her. I will direct you on how to get to the Van Galuss Homestead. I will leave you with your friends."

As he left, he pretended not to notice a single tear rolling down Venmir's cheek. Nandrin patted his friend on his shoulder.

---------------------------------

The reunion was bittersweet, and Nyvan and Sigurd were somewhat disappointed to find that they had been drafted into assisting the person who killed them, but somewhat mollified by the fact they were alive and had a way to move forward. It took several days for them to recover and as soon as they were fit, they took Wessic's directions and hit the road to the Van Galuss Manor.

They approached an old manor house in the woods. A road lead up to it, and a creaky looking house stood behind a half-destroyed wagon. Shutters lay on the floor below broken windows. As they got closer, it seemed as if their first impressions had been affected by the fog which covered the ground. The wagon seemed to be in good condition, and the manor house was in decent condition, the metal fixings looked well-polished and the windows were just smokey, not broken. The shutters swung freely on their hinges.

The party quickly surveyed the area. behind the house was herb and vegetable garden with a few citrus trees. They walked back to the front door. 

Nandrin stepped forward to ring the bell. To his surprise, as he pulled the dinger, the entire bell fell from the wall and crashed to the floor. He looked down to see a rotten metal bell, with a broken clanger and a pitted outer shell. So different from what he had tried to pull.

"I think this is a place full of illusion!" said Venmir.

"Be wary of where you step." said Sigurd.

They pushed the door open and found themselves in a large hallway, Stairs went up to the right, and a cloakroom was underneath it, empty. They approached the door to the left. Over it was an elaborate chandelier with multiple flaming lights illuminating the area. When Nyvan reached the door and pushed it open, it was almost no surprise when the lights burst into mini-fireballs, catching most of them in their area of effect. There was some cursing.

Behind the door was a living room, with some couches. They quickly checked the room, then moved on.

The next door lead to a dining room. The air was cold. Sat at the table were a number of apparitions. Well-dressed people, apparently waiting for their dinner. They turned to look at the party as they walked in.

"Where is our food?" demanded one man angrily. "The service here is shocking. You servants should hurry up! I'm almost starving!"

The others mumbled agreement. 

"Freaky ghosts!" exclaimed Venmir as he stomped through the room. "Disgusting!"

The others followed, somewhat surprised and amused by his outburst. 

The next room was dominated by two long tables, covered in foodstuffs. There was no steam from the cooked foods, or smells in the room.

"Ghost food!" said Sigurd. "Perhaps we should feed the ghosts?"

Everyone but Venmir agreed. "I'm not feeding any filthy phantasms!"

"What are you, scared?" asked Nandrin.

"I ain't afraid of no ghosts!" he countered.

The others took the food back into the other room, and lay it on the table before the ghosts, who dived into the food voraciously, thanking the party as they did. The food turned to ash the moment it touched their ghostly lips, but they still ate. The party smiled and turned to leave. Just as they got to the door, one of the ghosts called them back.

"If you're to have any hope of finding the secret, you'll need this..." and handed Sigurd a V-shaped piece of metal. He gave the party a crooked smile and the rest of the ghosts began to laugh, before quickly fading to nothing.

"Yes!" exclaimed Sigurd, "Now it's getting interesting!"

And they turned to leave the room.

(HotDQ-14) A river of blood... (part 1)

"How does permanent death work?" 

The party find themselves in a strange hunting lodge, with evidence of elven architecture and contents, yet guarded by trolls? What strangeness is this? Then to find human cooks, who chase them out of the kitchen, yet don't try to sound the alarm? This is getting weirder by the moment...

Starring, in order they sit around the table:
Nyvan, (played by Jason) a elven knight, who likes long walks along dark tunnels, towards the light, and holding hands.
Venmir, (played by Brett) an elven clergyman, who likes cursing and being grumpy - he is especially touchy about death. 
Sigurd, (played by Iain) a travelling swordsman, who likes songs, musical instruments and longs for Valhalla.
Rodin, (played by Lorne) the sullen dwarven axeman (absent this week).
Nandrin, (played by Hilton), the elven mage, who likes flames, property damage and the phrase "OOC: WTF just happened?".

and The DM, (played by Alex), who loves to comment in blue. And writes this blog. He's also a bit of a git and likes to make life difficult for his players.

Tonight's session was a man down from the start due to uncontrollable circumstances, but that wouldn't stop the remainder from finding a way to get into a spot of bother. Maybe even a little more than a spot of bother - more like a river of blood...

The hunting lodge had proved fairly empty, yet still interesting. 

They walked back through several rooms they'd already checked. They found themselves back in the hall way they'd first come through. It was a large room, with two demonic statues at the base of the stairs, two full suits of green elven plate mail near the entrance from the cloakroom and many doors leading off in all directions. As they entered the room, a figure came down the stairs several steps - an older human, not quite elderly, powerfully-built, but obviously a warrior of some sort. He stopped, halfway down a flight of stairs and addressed the heroes.

"Who are you and why are you in here?" he enquired, politely.

"We're lost," admitted Sigurd, "could you tell me where we are?"

"On the Spine of the World, a thousand miles from anywhere. How could you be lost here? Unless.....you came through..... Who are you, exactly?"

"Just travellers..." interrupted Nyvan.

"No, that would explain why the dragon bitch and her red-robed companion came flying through the portal and never stopped." said the man, as he slowly started to back up the stairs.

"There's no need to panic, sir. I think there's been a misunderstanding. We're not with them. We're hunting the evil cult and there's nothing to fear from us - we slay evil!" announced Nandrin. He pushed his hands out to either side to show his intentions.

"I'm afraid it's not quite that simple!" said the man, as he turned and ran up the stairs, disappearing through a doorway.

"That's not good...." said Sigurd, just as the front door opened and some...thing walked in.

It looked like a troll, yet it was at least a few foot taller than the ones they had met before. It also had four huge arms, and a muzzle easily half a foot longer than a normal troll. It squeezed through the doorway and unfurled itself to its full height. Its head was higher than the balcony of the floor above, and its voice was deep and angry.

"So you are the ones who killed my friends outside? I'm going to eat you one at a time, in front of each other! Crunch your bones!" 

"Stay back, you vile beast!" shouted Sigurd, "or this will not end well for you!" 

The troll roared and screamed, saliva dropping to the floor.

The older man from upstairs returned, this time accompanied by two large human warriors, fully-kitted out. He had managed to quickly strap on a few pieces of armour and stood with his sword drawn.

"Whoa! Whoa! What a moment! There's no need for violence - we just want to leave and be on our way..." countered Sigurd.

 And so the conversation continued for several minutes, even getting to the point where Nandrin tried to defuse the situation by asking if they had any rooms to rent. As ever, it continued to escalate and when battle began, those on the stairs stood back, leaving the troll to take on the interlopers.

The troll and the heroes tore into one another. Sigurd and Nyvan unleashed mighty blows on the beast, while Nandrin filled the room with a flaming ball and Venmir aided his companions with the power of his deity. The troll screamed a series of words out, unintelligible to the heroes, and launched himself at the party, his claws ripping into Nyvan and Sigurd, rending their flesh. His teeth tore away part of Nyvan's shoulder. The heroes responded with more slashes into the troll's flesh. The burning ball of fire burnt at the troll, and the cleric unleashed holy fire on the beast. Half a dozen drakes charged into the room behind the troll. Skittering across the walls and through the flames, leaping at the heroes like the faithful pets they were. The party began to buckle, and the troll surged forward, his claws lashing the air around Sigurd, before more raked across Nyvan's chest, bringing him close to death. 

The party rallied, preparing to fight to the death, when a voice called out across the battlefield.

"What are you doing to my house! Stop this at once!" some of the party looked up to see an armoured woman on the balcony. She raised her hands and the air around the heroes grew cold. The air was stinging their skin, and massive hailstones the size of a man's fist started to swirl around them all, making them drop to the ground to avoid being pummelled. Sadly, both Nyvan and Sigurd were slower than the others, and they were each struck multiple times across the head and chest by the massive stones. They both toppled over, struck dead by the power of the icy winds. Nandrin and Venmir stood in shock.

The female figure leapt over the balcony and slowly lowered to the floor, magically.

"How dare you come into my home, burn my belongings, damage my.......Venmir, is that you?"

"Yes, it is I, Talis" replied the cleric, "and this is Nyvan. Your friend! And you've killed him!". Nyvan knelt next to his friend to check for a pulse, but found nothing. He stood and glared at the woman in front of him.

Nandrin looked on, somewhat confused. "Who, what, how...is this?" 

"Oh Nyvan...." she whispered, as she knelt next to the dead paladin. "Why did you follow me? What are you doing here? You should have just stayed where you were!" A tear rolled down her face.

"And you should have told us what you were doing and where you were - and we would never have looked for you! You lead us to Greenest, which lead us here. And what are you doing with this cult? I expected more from you." replied Venmir.

"Escort these two to the Stag Room, Wessic. I will be with you shortly.."

The older man stepped forward, with the two armoured men behind him. "This way, please..." he gestured towards a door, and lead Nandrin and Venmir to an extravagant waiting room, where they sat and contemplated their future.

.......................

(to be continued)

(HotDQ-13) "It's all over my face!"

"This could be our password!"

This time, our heroes find themselves needing to follow-through on their promises to Snapjaw (one of Venmir's disposable allies) and find the remaining leadership of the Dragon Cult and chop them into little pieces. Easier said than done - especially for our uncanny adventurers! 

Starring, in order they sit around the table:
Nyvan, (played by Jason) a elven knight, voted "Most likely to suffer acid damage" by the entire world.
Venmir, (played by Brett) an elven clergyman, the cold-hearted priest of war, voted "Most likely to curse loudly when the room is empty" by everyone else in the group! 
Sigurd, (played by Iain) a travelling swordsman (absent this week).
Rodin, (played by Lorne) the sullen dwarven axeman, voted "Most unlikely lifeguard" by himself.
Nandrin, (played by Hilton), the elven mage, voted "Least likely to use his thieves' tools" by those who know he has them (which is now everyone!).

and The DM, (played by Alex), who loves to comment in blue. And writes this blog. He's also a bit of a git and likes to make life difficult for his players.

Tonight's session was a man down from the start due to uncontrollable circumstances, but never fear, loyal readers, because the remainder are more than capable of getting themselves killed in a horrible, horrible fashion.

They stood in a room dominated by mist. Under the mist, a mystical pattern, which Nandrin had identified as a teleport circle, lay unusable. With the password, it was just a drawing on the floor. That said, the heroes weren't even sure it was of any relevance, after all, there was still a few corridors to check and who knows what else was down here...

That said, they still tried a few words, briefly tried scraping the markings off the floor (a dwarven approach to magical sigils), then gave up.

They walked down a corridor, which lead to a wide ledge around the side of a large underground lake. Now that they were unfettered by human eyesight, their elven and dwarven eyes made out that the lake went further than they could see - and there was a small piece of rock jutting out in the lake, at the centre of which sat a large frog, eyeing them warily. 

They took their time and considered approaching the frog - some of the group suggesting it may be appropriate to parley with the beast - until Vanmir slammed the door down with a devastating revelation - "It's just a massive fucking frog. It won't talk, it will just try and eat you!" - which the others accepted, and they moved on.

They eventually came to a large room, filled with rubble and junk, boxes and piles of refuse, which they decided to scour, before being surprised by a huge creature bursting out of it's lair on the far side of the room. After a fierce battle, the carrior crawler was dispatched, almost as a warning to them about sticking their noses in mess (no, they will never learn - see later!).

They rested then, setting a guard, and spent the next eight hours relaxing. There was no disturbances, and they continued their exploration. They went back to the room where they had defeated Borngrey and Spattergoo - and took a different tunnel, finding themselves in what could only be described as frog temple. The room was full of frog idols, some of which looked recent, while others were obviously much older - some crude, and some well done. The party ignored them, as sick of frogs as the lizardfolk upstairs were.

The next room was almost as odd. In it were three things - a chair, a small table and a wooden chest. In the minds of our heroes, chests mean loot (as they do for millions of other adventurers) and there was a small rush to see who would open the chest. Venmir scanned the area, before lifting the latch on the lid. 

Almost immediately, a number of small pots fell from the ceiling, most of which shattered on the floor.

"Cover your face!" shouted Rodin, as he covered his nose and mouth. The others obliged, but instead covered their eyes and sucked in big lungfuls of a strange powder in the air. 

To Nyvan, Venmir and Nandrin, the room changed. They found themselves in a hell world, surrounded by fog, shadowy figures and, worst of all, huge giant frogs leaping at them through the air! Nyvan and Venmir ran for their lives, while Nandrin ripped out his sword and swung it at the nearest frog.

Rodin leapt back in surprise and barely parried the elf's swinging sword. "Watch it, burnypants!" shouted Rodin, as he countered with the side of his blade, striking the mage across the shoulder.

They traded blows, before Nandrin panicked at the strength of the frog in front of him and ran from the room. Rodin followed as quickly as he could. 

By this time, Venmir and Nyvan had found a nice and safe, but very wet, refuge from the frogs. They waited for the frogs to leave.

Rodin caught Nandrin in the room where they had previously battled the cultists. Swinging his axe in a huge arc, it connected with the side of Nandrin's head, and his eyes rolled back as he dropped to the floor unconscious. Rodin quickly tied him up, like a hog, and went looking for the other two crazy elves.

For Venmir and Nyvan, time passed slowly. Somehow, they knew the frogs were waiting for them - but their new hiding place was great - nothing could see them - even if it was a little damp.

Rodin checked the teleport portal room - nope, empty. He ran through into Frog Lake, looking out over the water. Still nothing! But wait, what was that? Bubbles? Was there something down there? Rodin looked into the water, but without light, he could make out nothing. More bubbles broke the surface.

Venmir and Nyvan started to relax. The frogs were gone, surely, but why leave this place, it was comforting and friendly. They stayed where they were.

Rodin lay down on the ledge and stuck his stubby arm into the water, swirling it around to see what he could find. Fully expecting his arm to be bitten off at the elbow, he was surprised to find his hand tangled in seaweed. He grabbed a handful and pulled it out, somewhat surprised to find it attached to Venmir's head. He pulled the elf from the water, and checked a little more, before long dragging Nyvan from the water as well. Their exposure to the spores over, they both quickly recovered and they all returned to where Nandrin lay on the floor, trussed up.

As Venmir and Nyvan eyed their potential prey, Rodin untied the mage and slapped him into wakefulness. Nandrin was groggy and angry.

The party continued their search of the area, but found nothing. That lead to a debate - where were the bad guys? A number of ideas were considered, including the use of boats across the underground lake, before Venmir announced that he thought the most likely thing was that they had used the portal. Slowly, the others came round. That said, they had no password, and were dejected. They travelled back to the surface.

There they found the lizards moving around the castle and, when they found out that Spattergoo was dead, the courtyard quickly changed from a scene of industry, to one of celebration, the lizardmen dancing and cavorting around the heroes, much to the discomfort of them all. Before long, Snapjaw approached to thank them for their efforts.

"Sadly, the trail has run cold and we have no way of following the remainder of the cultists through the portal!" said Venmir, overcoming his utter hatred of lizardfolk to speak with their leader.

"Aye, we'll be heading out soon. We don't know the password." confessed Nyvan. The others nodded their heads.

"Did yous check all the humies rooms?" asked Snapjaw, "cos yous pinkskins is always writing things down - when yous could just remember things. You pinkskins is crazy."

"Oh, pish, we haven't checked the last tower! It's the biggest one!" cried Nandrin. The others nodded their heads.

The heroes found themselves in the final tower. The ground floor was plain and empty, having obviously been used as a chapel to Tiamat, but the second lead to a library and a sorting room. They spent some time searching through the books - the elves trying to find books on magic, especially portals. Rodin found a book with lots of pictures.

They traipsed up to the third floor and found themselves in the most opulent room they had found yet. It was obviously an office, with fancy chairs, a desk and benches. On the desk was a series of papers, which they searched through, finding one which read "Portal: Draezir".

"This could be our password!" exclaimed Nyvan. The others nodded their heads.

They continued their search, finding a small shrine to Tiamat, as well as a sitting room, then finally a bedroom. It was terribly fancy. There was two wardrobes, one of which had a dragon drawn on the front of it. Nyvan announced he would search the wardrobes and stomped up the one with a painting on the door and pulled it open. He was surprised by a cloud of acid spurting over his face. He screamed in pain and frustration!

"It's all over my face! Without any warning, it's all over my face! And my chest." he rolled around on the ground in agony.

"Take off your clothes!" shouted Venmir. 

Nandrin and Rodin looked like they were about to panic.

Eventually the acid wore off and Nyvan was able to continue, his armour pitted with acid damage. Venmir hovered nearby, keeping an eye on his best bud.

They travelled down to the portal room. There they stood around the circle.

"Draezir!" shouted Rodin.

"Portal: Draezir!" shouted Nandrin.

"Say Portal Draezir!" shouted Nyvan.

"Draezir." said Venmir, after he stepped into the circle. He disappeared from view.

"So nothing has worked?" asked Nyvan, looking up from his scribing toolkit where he was doodling pictures of Nandrin, tied up on the floor (in modern terms, he was checking his mobile phone!).

Everyone stopped to look at him. 

"Nope, nothing." said Rodin, "Apart from Venmir disappearing through the portal!"

"Oh."

The others followed suit - and found themselves in a woodland. It was cold, very cold, and the trees around them were evergreens, coated in frost and snow, the ground underfoot was hard and unyielding. Venmir stood a few feet away.

"I didn't want one of you to suddenly appear inside me..." he blushed.

Up the hill, on a few hundred feet away, stood a manor house. It dominated the area, and had a kind of elven feel about it. There was an insignia above the door, which the elves thought they recognised, but despite some determined thinking, they couldn't remember which house it was. 

As they stood around, thinking intently, two trolls walked around the side of the building. They all noticed each other at the same time and the trolls roared as they charged the heroes.

Nandrin quickly loosed a spell which caused one of the trolls to suddenly start moving in slow motion. The other was unhindered and leapt into the middle of the party, laying about ti with it's massive claws and snapping at the party with it's huge teeth dripping saliva.

The battle was bloody and not short. They all suffered at the claws of the beasts, their armour rent, and bodies wounded. Rodin in particular found himself shattered and broken, barely surviving one particularly deadly outburst (he took 33 damage in one round!). Finally, with the use of fire and a lot of hacking, the trolls lay dead on the floor, never to return (?).

They walked up thte manor house and let themselves in. They ignored the cloakroom and rudely walked in without cleaning their boots.

Behind the cloakroom was a hall, bedecked with demonic figures and suits of elven platemail on stands. A large staircase lead up to the first floor and many doors lead out of the room. They quickly found themselves in the kitchen, where they were unceremoniously shooed from the room by a set of busy cooks. Venmir bristled with anger, but stopped short of the slaughter of innocents.

They checked some more rooms - including one with a strange tapestry which seemed to have moving trees in it, a small sitting room and finally, what they believed to be the kitchen staff's quarters.

"Let's go back in the kitchen..." said Venmir.

"What for? They'll just throw us out again!" said Rodin.

"Because there was a doorway in there we didn't use!" said Venmir.

"There's loads of other doors to check!" announced Nandrin, let's go back to the hall. 

("Please do!" thought the DM - a huge surprise ready for the group - it was going to be grand!)

"OK, we'll walk back...."

And at that point, one of the players stood up, having already packed away his kit and announced it hometime - much to the DM's horror and followed by much cursing!

(to be continued)