"No, I'll stay in the room..."
Brave, or foolhardy, no-one is quite sure. Our heroes are really in the thick of it, stuck on a flying castle, miles from anywhere, surrounded by enemies and in a room showing very clear signs of combat, they've already been caught once, and now find themselves wondering what to do next - not even they can stand up to an entire castle full of enemies...or can they?
Starring, in order they sit around the table:
Sigurd , (played by Iain) a travelling swordsman; brave, strong, can hold a tune...prone to unfortunate outbursts in the face of extreme danger...
Venmir, (played by Brett) an elven clergyman with an eye for a sharp exit.
Nyvan, (played by Jason) a elven knight, who should have worn his longjohns.
Rodin Halfbeard, (played by Lorne) the sullen dwarven axeman, amazingly, not the first one "around the corner" - wait and see...
Nandrin the Naughty, (played by Hilton), the world's most polite elven mage, a bit of a loiterer - and known to hang out on dodgy corners.
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 was a real landmark - our final session of Hoard of the Dragon Queen. This session also marks the first time the party members will give me their chosen names for the blog entry - and the winner gets an exp bonus.
Some closure, and some unexpected ice cubes made for an eventful evening, but not one without success. It did, however, demonstrate that our heroes need to think a little harder about preparation when they know what's coming...
They sat around in silence. The room was filled with smoldering scrolls, pools of blood, ruined furniture and a strange growth of wild grass - strange because it was indoors, and doubly so because it was a flying ice castle which had no grass anywhere else. Every now and then, one of them would pick a piece of grass and look at Nandrin like he was insane.
When they discussed their options, the way seemed simple. Search the rooms nearby for Rezmir, kill her, then crash the castle. Easy peasy. They left the room and walked across the hall to a large set of doors opposite.
As they approached, the doors to the main courtyard opened in front of them. They looked up to see a massive figure walk into the doorway - it must have been 20 foot tall and it's voice filled the corridor, so loud that they felt it reverberate in their chests as much as through their ears. It's skin was grey and dull, almost like rock. It was dressed in ragged furs and carried a club nearly ten foot long.
"So, more cultist insects scurrying about the place, eh? What are you doing in here?" asked the giant.
Nyvan stepped forward. "We are no cultists!" he proudly proclaimed. The others gasped.
"Really?!" replied the beast.
"Yes, have been sent here to find those infiltrating the cult..." said Nyvan, looking slightly less confident.
"I thought you said you weren't cultists?" pondered the beast. The others looked around, trying to act nonchalant - no-one was quite sure what was going on.
"That's right, we're working for the cultists. And we killed some other folk who weren't cultists."
"I really don't see what you're trying to say. I think you may be confused." said the giant, scratching his head (along with most of the table).
"Ahem." interrupted Nandrin. "Allow me to explain..." he sauntered up to the giant, trying to look confident.
After a brief exchange (which involved some discussions over where the bodies of the slain cultists were (thrown overboard!) - as well as a very passive aggressive threat to the giant), the giant lifted Nandrin with one hand, holding his face up to his own. Nandrin gagged a little on the smell and swallowed some vomit which had popped into his mouth. Just as it seemed that Nandrin might have his head bit off, another giant voice broke through the stillness of the air. The first giant's partner walked in!
She, for it was a she, calmed down the situation and decided to rather liked Nandrin, repeatedly patting him on the head, even suggesting he be taken home as a toy. She welcomed the party, asking them to introduce themselves.
It became apparent that the two groups were working for similar goals - as the giants, and their leader, Blagothkus, were distrusting of the cult and did not like their influence on the castle. Blagothkus was the one who ran the castle, and controlled it - but the giants did not think he was willing. So after some debate, they decided to take the heroes to see him for themselves.
They were lead through the castle, to the upper courtyard, and to the rear of the area - where they entered a massive tower. They walked past the ridiculously armoured ogre guards who tried, for a moment, to stop the heroes, but were soon taught the errors of their ways by an angry stone giant. They were left unmolested.
They walked into Blagothkus' chamber, where he was being attended by two ogres. He was easily 7 or 8 feet taller than the other giants. He towered over everyone in the room. His voice was almost musical, much less aggressive than the other giants'.
After getting everyone's names, he asked that they explain their reason for being there. Sigurd answered, truthfully, explaining how they had got there, and what their intentions were. The giant then cast some magics, before having them repeat their stoies, before nodding in acceptance that their stories were true. He was pleased that the red wizards had been driven from his castle.
He sat down again, and the ogres began to brush his hair. He thought. He thought as giants thought, and for twenty minutes, the only movement in the room was the two massive ogres brushing their master's hair.
Then he spoke again.
"We have a common endeavour, then. You wish to slay these cultists, an I wish to be rid of these cultists. The only remaining issue would be the dragon. If you can slay the cultist leaders and the dragon, then we would finish off the cult and we would both have our own way. What say you?"
"Yes!" shouted Nandrin, "We accept your deal!" worried that the giant might change the terms.
"So, you would kill Rezmir, and the dragon?"
The others stared in horror at Nandrin.
"Yes, I think so..." he replied, his strong confident voice starting to crack at the end.
"Then it is a deal!" roared the giant, startling everyone in the room!
"You kill Rezmir and the dragon. We will kill the remaining cultists!" announced the cloud giant, "Now go and prepare, and I will do the same. Send the captain of my guards up to me..." and with a gesture he dismissed the heroes. They left, with not a word in his direction. They were too busy glaring at Nandrin.
"Sorry..." he mumbled, as he withered under their gaze.
They descended the stairs and began to rest.
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They found out Rezmir's room was the one they were about to enter when they encountered the giants - and they headed there as soon as their rest was complete.
The huge door, twenty foot tall, was locked, and they had no key. A polite lock had no luck. Nandrin considered his magical options, and selected a spell he thought might help.
"Step back..." he suggested, before standing some distance away from the ice doors - and he cast his spell.
There was a massive explosion of sound as the doors shattered, blasting inwards and outwards at the same time, the mage's sonic attack disrupting the door and showering them all in razor-sharp shards of ice. All of the party took some damage from the explosion, but then again, so did the people in the room.
(I say people, but....) In the room stood Rezmir, her wicked two-handed sword in her hands. Her face was bloodied from the explosion and her anger was clear. He black, scaled skin glistened in the light the blade in her hands swayed from side to side, as if alive itself. O her face was a black mask, as if to make her look more like a dragon. Next to her stood a large humanoid, it's face covered in a rag, while huge chains with bladed hooks on the ends trailed about it in the air, lazily, lashing from one side to the other as if alive.
"I always knew you feeble fools would die by my hands - today is as good a day as any other!"
And battle was joined.
Nyvan rushed to Rezmir and struck her a mighty blow, claling on his deity to support his strike. Almost immediately, Rezmir struck back, smashing through Nyvan's defences, her blade causing a wound which immediately puckered with black ooze and prevented even his own mighty powers from healing himself (they both hit each other for 29 damage - OUCH!).
The chain devil leapt across the room, it's chains flailing out and striking the heroes, but fortunately they managed to avoid being caught up in the chains. Sigurd side-stepped the beast and joined the assault on Rezmir. Nandrin's magics flew across the room, striking their two foes with fire, whlie Venmir and Rodin tore into the chain beast.
Sigurd and Nyvan lay into the half-dragon, but the half-dragon was like a creature possessed, it's blade carving through Nyvan once again. He felt his life begin to drift away. Sigurd dived forward, his sword a glittering arc which came down across Rezmir's neck, dropping the cult leader low, spraying Nyvan with the cultist's blood.
As she fell, the other creature cried out - whether in agony or relief the heroes were not sure - and disappeared from view.
Rezmir's corpse turned to ash as it fell to the floor, and the mask glowed briefly on top of the piles of remnants, but before Sigurd could grab it, it glowed brightly, then disappeared from view in a flash of light.
They paused for a moment, exultant in the result. Sigurd looked down at the blade which Rezmir had been using. He had seen its abilities on Nyvan - and he encouraged the paladin to lift it - it would surely come in handy for the battle with the dragon.
Nyvan leant down and picked up the blade, hefting it in both hands. It was well-weighted.
"Kill them...."
Nyvan looked around the room, puzzled. He had heard a voice, clear as day, rasping and sibilant.
"Kill them all. They're not your friends. Kill them before they kill you."
His muscles tightened and his face contorted. The others didn't notice.
"KILL THEM NOW!"
With a cry of effort, Nyvan lifted the blade over his head and charged at Rodin, his inherent dislike of dwarves coming to the fore. He slashed the blade down, narrowly missing Rodin, while the others leapt to stop him - he was tackled to the ground by his companions.
Despite numerous attempts, including tying up the paladin and testing his strength of will, each time the blade was lifted, it filled his mind with hatred and even burned his hands when he invoked holy powers. It was decided the blade would not be useful - although Nandrin wasnted to tie it to a broom-handle and use it like a spear.
"Dragon next!" declared Nandrin to his glaring compadres. Venmir was too busy looking through a treasure chest to care.
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They rested for a while, before the sounds of combat from outside came to the ears of Nyvan. He alerted the others, and they dashed outside into the courtyard.
All around them, battle was joined. Ogres fought cultists, cultists fought ogres, kobolds ran screaming from every door in the castle, trying to avoid everyone and generally getting swatted by whoever was nearby. One of the stone giants ran past and briefly acknowledged the heroes with a smile before kicking a kobold 60 feet across the courtyard, where it hit a wall 20 feet up and then slid slowly down to ground level. They were sure they could hear a strange squeaking noise coming from the tiny creature as it hit the wall.
"This is brilliant!" thundered the giant before running towards the thickest of the action.
The party headed for the stairs down into the ice caverns. A dragon awaited them. They went over their plan - lure the dragon out in the courtyard, where the giants could smash it, leaving them to clean up the mess, crash the castle, emerge victorious and become great heroes. Some parts were a little sketchy, but the overall plan was agreed. Lure the dragon out by running away, blame the giants, profit.
They quickly found their way to the ledge where they had met the dragon previously. As before, the creature was attached to the ceiling, looking about confusedly. It quickly approached the heroes, querying them all the way.
"What's all that noise? What's going on? Are we under attack? Who are you? Where is Rezmir? I don't know what to do!" spoke the dragon, in a surprisingly squeaky voice.
"Yes, we are!" answered Nyvan, before following up, "the giants are attacking the cult, you must get up there and save them!"
"Oh no!" cried the dragon, "what about Rezmir?!" and with that the dragon passed his muzzle close to the paladin. His nostrils flared as he sniffed at Nyvan.
"Why can I smell dragon blood on you, elf?" queried the beast.
"Um....I was there when Rezmir was slain! It was awful." countered the elf.
"Hmmmmmmm......." grumbled the beast, "I can smell her blood all over you! Tell me who killed her!" screamed the dragon, his nose pressing up against Nyvan.
"We killed her!" cried Sigurd, as he drew his sword and charged the dragon, which roared in anguish.
The others stood for a moment, before attacking as well, taken slightly by surprise. Before long, they managed to over their fear of the beast, which was mightily impressive.
Blows were traded, and the party began to realise the size of the task in front of them when the dragon lashed out with his claws and teeth, smashing through their defences. Nandrin flung fire into the beast, but it shrugged off the worst of it, while Sigurd, Rodin and Nyvan all slashed at the beast, inflicting deep wounds on its face.
The heroes leapt forward and back, trying to stay out of its range, but close enough to strike. Nandrin summoned a flaming sphere, and Venmir stood back, flinging arrows into the dragon's face. The dragon leaned back, his mighty wings buffeting them all, and knocking most of them to the ground.
Suddenly, Rodin took the chance to sound the retreat. He nimbly leapt out of the dragon's reach, and ran towards the corner behind which lay the safety of the ice tunnel. It started an avalanche. They all turned and ran, but most of them did so carefully, disengaging themselves from the creature's attacks, apart from Sigurd and Venmir, who risked opportunistic strikes from the beast by running without a care for what hit them in the back, the two of them disappeared around the corner. Nandrin waited at the corner, all the better to control his flaming sphere.
The creature reared back, the distance between him and his foes left him no choice. He pulled in a massive lungful of air, before expelling a cone of deadly cold onto the party, covering them in freezing ice beyond anything any of them had ever imagined.
Sigurd stood in the ice hall, his hands on his knees, breathing heavily. Venmir was right behind him, equally out of breath. They waited for a moment for their companions, but heard nothing apart from the sound of a dragon moving away in the other direction. With heavy steps, they gathered their strength and ran down the corridor. Just the two of them.
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The two of them ran up into the courtyard. Before them, a huge battle raged.
Bodies lay everywhere. One of the stone giants lay unmoving, surrounded by dead cultists and kobolds. Mounds of dead ogres and humans lay here and there, whlie at the far end of the courtyard, Blagothkus and the other stone giant, together with a handful of ogres, were striking down the last few dozen cultists.
The two of them smiled as they gazed upon the battle - surely the cult would be ended here - the giants would finish them off, and their pact would be fulfilled.
Suddenly, a dark shadow crossed over the open area, and a cold dread filled the adventurers. With an ear-shattering roar of hatred, it swooped across the battlefield, sending a huge cloud of frozen air across everyone in the fight. It swung back majestically to land and survey its results.
Only one or two dazed cultists remained standing. The ogres lay dead, or stood frozen where they had been struck. The stone giant clutched at it's face, where its eyes had once been, only bloodied holes remained. It swung it's club blindly, roaring in agony, striking the remaining cultists and sending them flying across the floor. One strike clubbed against the dragon's skull, momentarily dazing it.
Blagothkus alone seemed unharmed by the blast of air and he seaized the moment, leaping up grabbing the dragon around the face with one mighty hand, his thumb slowly forcing its way into the dragon's eye socket. He smashed it across the side of the head with his mighty morningstar, lightning fell from the sky, striking the beast. He screamed with battle-lust.
This dragon, however, was long-lived and tougher than he looked. His eye reduced to pulp, and his skull cracked on one side, he reared backwards, pulling the giant with him. His jaws snapped at the giant's neck, while his claws ripped open his chest, sending a spray of blue giant's blood in all directions. His wings scrabbled to give him balance, but the gian't strength seemed incredible.
Blagothkus, a veteran of many fights, knew his time had come, but he refused to give up. His one free arm still held his morningstar, and he swung it down on the dragon's back. Once. Twice. Three times he struck, and with the third, a bolt of lightning came down from the heavens, sundering the dragon's spine and shattering its armour-plates.
The two mighty combatants fell away from one another and collapsed to the floor.
For a minute, Sigurd and Venmir stood, unmoving, and barely believing. They ran forward to investigate stable on the other side of the battle. Deciding not to enter it's darkness, they turned to check on the giant and the dragon. Venmir wanted to slay them both, Sigurd only the dragon. Both still breathed, shallowly.
Blagothkus opened one eye weakly, and saw the heroes.
"The dragon...a worth foe. Too much for you, yes?" and even though he was whispering, his voice was louder than a normal human's shout.
"Yes, we are all that's left." said Venmir, bowing his head.
"Then your vow is discharged, I say. But I beg of you one thing. Save my children, please. If nothing else, save my children. Go to the blue tower above, and speak my name, but save them. I beg you...." he looked at the adventurer's expectantly.
"We will...." promised Venmir. With that the giant's breath rattled deep in his chest, and his head fell back, never to lift again.
"His children? What the fuck?!" asked Sigurd.
Venmir shook his head, unknowingly.
Sigurd walked over to the dragon, unsure how to proceed. Eventually he decided to drive his blade into the dragon's eye ball. He met no resistance and the dragon breathed its last.
They headed for the stairs, and the blue tower.
--------------------------------
Thankfully, the door to the blue tower was open and the two of them walked inside.
"Speak his name? Is that all?" asked Sigurd.
"Yes," replied Venmir, before speaking again.
"Blarthakus." he said, but nothing happened.
"Blegithikus."
Sigurd grinned and spoke, "Blagothkus" and he disappeared from sight!
"Blinthikar"
"Fuck sakes!" cried out the cleric.
Sigurd found himself in a different town. One wall was dominated by golden levers, and the air was filled with floating symbols. He reached out for one of them.
"I wouldn't touch that, human." spoke a voice from behind and above him. He twirled around and found himself staring at the knee of a massive female giant. "What is your name and why are you here?" she asked.
Sigurd explained his position, and spoke about how the casle was now nearly deserted, and that Blagothkus was dead.
The ghost was clearly distraught.
"Oh! My husband!" she wailed, "and my children!". She cried into her ghostly hands. "The cult, they took them, and held them hostage, to ensure we would serve them faithfully. Who will save them now? "
"We will!" volunteered Sigurd.
"Really?"
"Yes, we promised Blagothkus." replied the swordsman.
The giant ghost bean to weep with relief. She offered Sigurd control of the castle if he would save her children, explained how the castle worked, and offered her services - and explained how the castle worked, running on either gold, or magical items - the latter was much more efficient. They, Sigurd and Venmir, later filled it with several hundred gold pieces - enough to go for a day or two. She gave him the password to return to the blue tower, it was her name, Esclarella.
"Esclarella." he spoke, and he reappeared in the blue tower.
Venmir stood in the middle of the room.
"Blarneycuss. Blinkimuss. Blogapuss. Oh, there you are Sigurd. What did you find out?"
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The remaining heroes found their friends, frozen solid in the ice tunnels and left them there. They were confident they could use the treasure hoard to find a way to bring them back once they returned to civilisation.
They also encountered a speaking raven, which delivered them a message from Leosin Erlanthar, the Harper they had first met in the raider camp near Greenest. He had provided them with a teleport scroll, and an invitation:
To come to Waterdeep, and from there, to save the world.
THE END
(tbc with Rise of Tiamat)
Epilogue
Tiamat turned all of her heads towards the scrying bowl. She spoke out loud, even though it was unnecessary.
"Severin. While you have not yet failed me completely, I am sick of hearing of your setbacks. Sound the horn and summon my children. Gather the masks and complete the ritual. I am sick of this place, and I hunger to return."
"Of course, mistress," replied the shadowed figure in the bowl, his voice deep and powerful, "your wish is my command. No more setbacks, I promise. Faerun will be yours!"
One of Tiamat's heads nodded slightly and the water in the bowl went dark. She looked around the massive chamber, it's walls carved from bone and decorated with the corpses of a thousand devils.
"I hunger."
"I'll be OK, I can fly!"
Our brave heroes have returned the Book of Illusion to Talis the White, and are just about to quiz the cultist for the information they need before they continue their mission (ill-fated, according to Talis) to destroy the cult, recover the Greenest hoard and stop the return of Tiamat. Oh, and kill Rezmir and Azbara Jos. Especially the killing part.
Starring, in order they sit around the table:
Nyvan, (played by Jason) a elven knight who isn't particularly fond of fighting mages.
Venmir, (played by Brett) an elven clergyman who is far more argumentative than he thinks he is.
Sigurd, (played by Iain) a travelling swordsman, resistant to short rests, but prone to sighing and silent "I told you so's".
Rodin, (played by Lorne) the sullen dwarven axeman, who always has a reason for running away, and doesn't mind a dead gnome.
Nandrin, (played by Hilton), the world's most polite elven mage, a scholar of dragons, who would love to study one, just so long as it's not alive.
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.
We are approaching the end of the particular module and the party have really got a steep task ahead of them. Tonight's adventure is not combat-heavy, but there is plenty to keep them busy - and let's face it, this lot could get into a fight in a room on their own! We start with a slight step backwards, and join the party just after they meet with Talis again.
They stood in Talis' parlour, having given her the Book of Illusion. She smiled at them like a cat smiles at a mouse. They most scowled back. Nandrin still hopped from one foot to another, nervous at the warlike dress of their host.
Talis told them about the Castle. It was a flying castle, controlled by a Cloud Giant almost 25 foot tall. There were several other giants in the castle, together with many guards; ogres for the giants, and cultists for the cult leaders.
She gave them the password to enter the castle, "Tiamat, our mother and strength", and offered them an alternative in case Skyreach Castle had already flown from its place near a town called Parnast nearby. She gave them the chance to return and take her wyverns to fly up to the castle - but this was a last resort. She gave them a five-coloured banner which they might find useful.
"We know enough. Time to go." said Sigurd.
Talis dismissed them, unnecessarily, but asked Nyvan and Venmir to hang back.
"I just wanted to apologise again." she said, "and make sure you had all the information you need."
She went on to explain how there were five Wyrmspeakers:
Severin the Red
Galvan the Blue
Neronvain the Green
Rezmir the Black
Varram the White
"If you do nothing else, I must ask that you terminate Varram, if no-one else. He took my role, and he is not deserving. He is a snivelling pathetic dwarven wretch - and he should die. Make he knows I betrayed him."
"I would love to." replied Nyvan.
She told them how the cult had been amassing a huge army in the south. "Be wary,," she added. "You would not want to find yourself in it's midst. Is there anything else you need?"
"Yes," said Venmir, "why can't we have your wyverns now? That would make it so much easier."
"No. You should go for the castle now. The wyverns are a last resort."
"But it would save us so much time. I don't see what the problem is."
"The problem is that if you end up taking my wyverns, then they will not return to me. They are stupid, fickle beasts, and if you set them free, they will find a new home and I'll never see them again."
"Give us the wyverns."
"No. I think I have helped enough."
"I don't think you've helped us at all! I would suggest...."
"ENOUGH!" screamed Talis. "I have had enough of your ungrateful ways! You are to leave my home immediately - and if I see you again, Venmir, then I will kill you. Leave. Now. Wessic, escort Venmir from the house."
Venmir walked slowly from the room. Wessic, the manservant/bodyguard, lead him to the door and bade him farewell. "Sleep far from the house," he said, "As Trepsin often traverses the local woods, and he has no soft spot for you or your friends. Alone, he would do for you."
"Mind your own business!" snapped the cleric, as he walked into the woods.
Nyvan stood by, awkwardly. He and Talis spoke for a while, before Nyvan made his excuses and walked away to meet the others.
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They left the next morning.
After a few hours walk, they met Venmir waiting for them in the woods. Sigurd decided not to mention that he'd found troll tracks, from a massive troll, which had followed Venmir for quite some time before turning back.
They travelled on to Parnast.
When they reached the small village, they stopped to scope out the place. Several larger building formed a square, around a well, and more small homes formed an outer ring. to the south, a huge magnificent Castle stood, shrouded in mist. It's walls were 40 foot high, and the towers even higher. It dominated the village, yet people walked along, ignoring it entirely. Several guards stood around the well.
The party spent some time deliberating what to do. They decided to unfurl the banner and head into the village, after questioning a local got them no useful information at all.
Within moments, one of the guards ran over. "What are you playing at! Put that away! Do what you need to do, but put that away." They quickly put away the banner. After a brief questioning, the party moved on.
Their plan involved heading straight to the Castle, so they went across the village square quickly. As they were about to leave the square, Nyvan noticed the local wheelwright watching them. He tilted his head to the side, summoning the party closer. As Venmir walked over, he loudly proclaimed that he could fix any wagons and asked them inside to look over his wares. Rodin and Nandrin watched the door, trying to look inconspicuous.
The wheelwright turned out to be one of the few non-cultists in the village. He begged for their help to clean his village up. He explained how the cult had taken over the village over the last year, and that their leader, Captain Othelstan, was a dangerous man. He told them there were wyverns in the stables, and that none of the guards could be trusted.
"We will do what we can." promised Nyvan.
They left, to a loud fanfare of promises about how great his shop was.
They went straight to the Castle gates. It was huge, with a large portcullis and drawbridge, while two massive stone guardians stood both inside and outside the gatehouse. As they walked inside, Nyvan mouthed the passphrase and walked through. The others were about to follow when Nandrin suggested they all speak the password. After a brief dispute over the exact words, they all walked into the castle unmolested.
They quickly made their way through the massive courtyard, ignoring most of the buildings, although they passed one room in which two huge humanoids, easily 20 foot tall, stood around a table sized for them, one reading a book, the other stirring a massive cauldron. They continued heading for a large opening in the back, which lead to stairs going up and down. They chose to go down inside the mountain.
They found themselves walking along ice tunnels, and inside the walls they saw armour, weapons, furniture, and later, even kobolds and ogres - frozen and very, very dead.
They continued, only slightly perturbed.
Before long, they ignored a passageway leading down and filled with a cold wind, then found themselves standing above a huge cavern. Huge amounts of gold and jewellery covered the floor. The party gaped and then noticed they were not alone. A massive white dragon clung to the ceiling and was watching them closely. It started to crawl along the ceiling, among the stalactites.
"Oh! Hello! You must have my lunch for me! How delightful. I'm starving!" called the dragon.
Rodin, the mighty dwarven warrior, and Nandrin, the eager dragon scholar, both turned tail and ran down the corridor without a moment's hesitation. They later claimed it was prudence, rather than out and out fear.
Nyvan and Sigurd, were a little more measured, slowly retreating in the face of the massive beast. Venmir stood for a moment, as if to challenge the beast, before he took a gentle trot down the corridor.
The voice of the beast thundered after them. "Not even a single kobold? Come on! I want my lunch. Even one of you would be a tasty treat!" They could hear the beast trying to squeeze itself into the corridor, ice grinding against its massive wings.
Even the most dignified of walks turned into a run as the voice faded away behind them.
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They went back up the stairs, towards the upper level, bypassing the floor they'd entered on. As they walked, the ground shook beneath their feet and they felt a strange vibration through the ground. After a while, a horn sounded through the Castle, and the ground suddenly lurched under their feet. They were airborne!
They emerged on the upper level to find themselves in a massive courtyard like the floor below - except instead of cultists practising, the place was full of ogres. They quickly headed for a pale blue tower rising from the rock, following a path up the massive boulder which formed the base of the entire castle. When they got to the top, they found themselves stuck in front of a huge door, locked, with no apparent way inside.
They looked up to see two distant figures on top of the tower. Sigurd motioned for them to come and open the door, and one of them disappeared from sight. The party waited patiently, and were surprised to see the ogre reappear at the rampart, this time clutching a massive rock, which he hurled down at them, while his companion made a few clearly-rude hand gestures. The rock shattered on the floor, sending shards of rock about the place, cutting into some of the heroes. They beat a hasty, confused, retreat.
They were briefly interrogated by an ogre captain, and bluffed their way past to make a hasty retreat down the stairs. Doubts started to creep in among some of the less brave of the group - Rodin.
They took the chance to investigate some of the rooms around the courtyard, finding a chaotic kitchen, filled with kobolds and watched eagerly by a hungry looking griffon. There was a cultist barracks, and a large stable which was so dark they decided not to investigate the noises coming from the corners.
They were alarmed when a squad of troopers ran over to them, but it turns out that they were merely being warned of intruders in the castle! The irony was not lost on them....well, not lost on most of them anyway.
They passed through some double doors into a long, wide corridor with doors on either side. They went straight for the double doors at the end, hoping to find Rezmir. They walked into a large room which was full of furniture, lecterns, desks, awful stone statues of mythical beasts, chairs and stools. On the far side of the room stood two men, both in long red robes, deep in debate on a topic far beyond any of the group. One of them was Azbara Jos!
Azbara leaned over to the other and whispered in his ear. The other turned to face the party as they filed into the room and spread out in a semi-circle.
"Ahh, so the intruders have decided to grace....." said the other mage...
At that precise moment, Sigurd began to cast a spell and it all kicked off.
Nandrin pointed his hand at the mages and a small ball of fire sped across the room, before dissipating feet away from them. Nandrin wept into his robes a little. Rodin ran across the room, right up to Azbara, licking his lips at the prospect of fighting a puny mage. The mage flung his own fireball back at the party and it exploded in their midst, singing most of our intrepid intruders. Azbara let loose a mighty thunder strike and it blasted Rodin up into the air, and he landed 15 feet away. One of the hulking gargoyles came to life and charged at the prone dwarf, clawing and biting at him. Sigurd's spell finished casting and, like Nandrin, he was dismayed to find it had no effect. He advanced on their foes. Venmir's arrows sped across the room, thumping into Azbara. Nyvan charged across the room, his javelin barely missing the magicians.
Nandrin cast another spell, and was horrified to see it had no effect. What sorcery protected these two foul wizards! Rodin clambered to his feet and began to chop away at his rocky foe. One mage conjured a series of small golden arrows which thudded into Rodin, eliciting a scream of outrage. The other cast a spell, freezing Nyvan to the spot. He glared in frustration. Venmir continued firing arrows, hitting Azbara again.
Realising he had few options, Nandrin reached into his robe and pulled out the strange wand he'd gotten from Sigurd in the Von Galuss mansion. He pointed it at Azbara Jos and was disappointed to see nearly the entire room suddenly sprout lush green grass a foot and a half tall. He shook his head. Nyvan fought against his paralysis, fighting free and charging the mage, just as the mage let loose a massive barrage of magic missiles, slamming them into the paladin.
Sigurd ran up to Azbara Jos and slashed across the mage's chest with his blade, and the party collectively sighed in relief as the red wizard fell. Rodin finished off the gargoyle.
Nyvan ran up to the remaining mage, winding up a mighty blow, only to realise at the last second that it was just an illusion. The back wall of the room faded and there, stood at the far side of the room, on a platform open to the elements, stood the other mage. Venmir's arrow missed him.
He sneered at the from across the room.
"I will not allow myself to be manhandled by the likes of you!" he screamed in rage, before stepping backwards off the platform and disappearing from view.
The party stood for a moment, before gathering their thoughts. There was an extended debate about what to do next. Venmir and Nandrin were pushing for a rest, while Sigurd objected. The other two watched, amused.
"Nothing good ever comes of a short break in a dungeon." stated Sigurd, quite clearly, but the others outvoted him and they all sat down to rest.
After a few minutes rest, Sigurd was proved right as their rest was interrupted by two cultists walking into the room.
"Master Modar..." began one, before quickly stopping. They turned and ran.
The cultists barely made it twenty feet from the door before a volley of magic, arrows, and javelins stopped them in their tracks. Sigurd watch proceedings with an unspoken but clearly noticeable "I told you so".
Sigurd then proposed getting rid of the bodies over the platform edge, and they started moving the bodies. As they left the hallway, they were amazed to see Nandrin completely ineffectually mopping up blood with a piece of parchment.
"I thought it would work!" he cried, as the others shook their heads and walked back into the room.
He mumbled under his breath as he followed them back into the room.....
"I just want to drown the little bastard out!"
The party are in the haunted and illusion-filled Von Galuss mansion, trying to recover the Book of Illusion for Talis the White, member of the dragon cult. WTF? That's a turnaround!
Starring, in order they sit around the table:
Nyvan, (played by Jason) a elven knight who needs to pay attention to what happened the week before.
Venmir, (played by Brett) an elven clergyman (absent this week).
Sigurd, (played by Iain) a travelling swordsman, with a heart of gold and a soft spot for children.
Rodin, (played by Lorne) the sullen dwarven axeman, who blames Nyvan for everything which goes wrong.
Nandrim, (played by Hilton), the world's most polite elven mage - when it comes to asking for magical items.
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.
The search through the haunted mansion continues - but sadly they were a healer down. How would they fair with no healing? Read on to find out!
The party stood in the room with the strange bed which put everyone to sleep and the mirror with the world's easiest puzzle.
"I'll look under the bed..." said Nyvan, as the others looked on in stunned silence. As soon as he touched the bed, he fell asleep.
"What the.....?" asked Nandrin.
"Not sure." replied Sigurd.
Rodin dragged the unconscious elf from the room and slapped him awake.
"I forgot about the bed!" explained Nyvan.
They considered their options, and decided the best thing to do would be to fall asleep on the bed. They tied a rope around Rodin's waist, and he took a run up, launching himself onto the bed. He fell asleep instantly. They dragged him into the hallway and woke him up. Rodin's patience bgan to fail, and he pulled out his axe.
"Wait!" cried Nandrin, "Give me one more try." as he leapt onto the bed. Strangely, he stayed awake and found himself lying on an old bed, in a decrepit room, surrounded by the fairly fresh bodies on a number of men and women, both human and orc. The bed itself was ruined. He checked the bodies for loot, then afterwards explained what he saw to the others, who could still see nothing.
"Enough!" roared Rodin, who launched his axe at the bed, smashing it to pieces with dozens of angry blows. The others put their heads in their hands. To Nandrin, his asault had no effect, but to the others, the bed was falling to pieces.
After several more minutes of debate, Nyvan announced himself bored and demanded they all leave the room to look elsewhere.
They walked through to the next room which was obviously a child's bedroom. The faint sound of breathing could be heard, and they walked into the room. Except for Rodin, who watched the door.
Nyvan walked over to the crib. In it lay a small child, sleeping. As he watched, it twitched in its sleep and woke up. Upon seeing him, it jumped to its feet and began to cry. After several moments, it began to cry for its dolly. The party searched the room, finding nothing, but stymied by a toybox which wouldn't open. It seemed flimsy, yet nothing they did would open it, even trying to jimmy it open with a sword.
"Make the baby open it." suggested Sigurd.
Nyvan picked the child up, which struggled in his arms, and when he put it on the floor by the toybox, it scrambled back across the room and hid under the bed, crying and whimpering in fear at the men manhandling it.
Sigurd walked over to the child and put it back in the crib, where it continued to wail. He played a simple lullaby on his lute.
"Awwww...." said everyone else.
"Your lullaby has no effect!" said the DM.
"That's ok, I'm just trying to drown the little bastard out!" replied the minstrel.
The party considered their options and wondered where they might find a dolly.
"In the living room?" suggested Nyvan, before leading the party down to the first room they entered. This time, when searching the room, they found an old dolly under a cushion. They returned to the baby's room and gave the doll to the child - although Nandrin had to do it, as the child pulled away when Nyvan drew close.
The child happily announced it wanted to play, and put its hands out to Nandrin, who lifted it up and put it on the floor. The child ambled over to the toybox and opened it. As they watched, it clambered into the toybox and before anyone could react, closed it over its head, squeaking out a simple "tank ou".
"Fuck sakes!" cried Rodin, "Now we'll never get the little shit out!"
Nandrin ran over and opened the toybox easily. Inside, was a small metal A. There was some celebrating.
The party went back to check old rooms they had never looked over very thoroughly and soon found themselves in the kitchen.
Nyvan checked the chimney, and found a metal G embedded in the chimney breast. As he pulled it free and put it in his pocket, flames rushed down the chimney and burst into the room. Everyone stepped back except Sigurd, who dived to the floor.
A small imp appeared on the floor in front of the party.
"Die, buttheads!" it cried, and sent forth a stream of fire in all directions, burning everyone, even the prone swordsman.
Everyone leapt to the attack, but the creature seemed to be ignoring the majority of their blows. To everyone's surprise, and the imp's delight, the dwarf decided to attack what he felt was the source of the imp's power, and attacked the chimney savagely, leaving his companions to fight the imp.
"I try to find a bucket!" shouted Nandrin, "and fill it with water to drown the imp!" Sadly, the indoor plumbing was not functioning.
As the battle raged across the room, the dwarf carved brick after brick from the chimney with mighty blows of his axe.
"I'm trying to crush the imp with brickwork!" announced the maddened dwarf.
"Is the dwarf insane?" asked the imp, looking at Sigurd.
"Shut up and die, foul beast!" cried Sigurd as he swung with his blade once more.
After several moments of heavy combat, the creature cursed loudly when it's fire stinger missed once more, and with a bizarre hand signal towards the party, it disappeared into thin air after being struck by Nyvan.
The party relaxed.
With all the letters of the Von Galuss name collected, they walked up to the chamber with the hatch into the loft. Rodin waited at the bottom while everyone else went first, watching the door. Just as he prepared to climb the ladder, he flet a slight pressure at the side of his neck, followed by a burning pain across the side of his head. His hair and beard were on fire!
The imp clung to his back, cackling wildly and trying to stick a flaming finger in the dwarf's ear. Rodin was stunned into inactivity as the others leapt back down the hatch to attack. Sigurd was particularly acrobatic about it, heading down with a twist and a half-pike.
After most had swung at the beast, Rodin ran backwards into a wall, crushing the beast between his bulk and a loads of bricks. The creature slumped to the floor with a dramatic sigh and a curse, extending it's two first fingers at the group as it fell over.
Sigurd, noticing it was still on fire, whipped out his fleshy-oboe and proceeded to urinate on the imp.
The imp sat up immediately, coughing and spluttering, spitting out urine.
"That's disgusting!" it cried.
The party descended on it.
A few moments later, Rodin chopped its head from it's body.
"Just to make sure."
They went up into the attic.
The key fit together and slid into the lock easily. The magical door with the runes around it opened. Behind it was a massive storeroom. There was two large piles, covered in white sheets, and many boxes, pieces of furniture and piles of debris. A door was in the far wall.
They searched the room, finding a strange golden wand, and a suit of armour.
Sigurd snatched the armour from Nandrin's hands. Nandrin looked back, pointedly staring at the wand in Sigurd's hand.
"What?" said Sigurd.
"I want the wand!" said Nandrin.
"Ask nicer."
"Please may I have the wand?"
"Ok", said Sigurd, as he handed over the wand cheerfully. Nandrin looked confused.
"Look at this," announced Sigurd a moment later, having lifted one of the white sheets. Underneath it was a circle of boxes - and inside was a number of corpses.
"This is bad news," announced Rodin, let's leave them.
"Nah!" said Nyvan, moving a box out of the way. The corpses began to rise to their feet, anger and resentment in their voices.
"For fucks sake!" cried the dwarf, again.
"I call on the power of Corlolla Lorandian...err, Corolla Landrover......um, what's my deity called again?" asked Nyvan, as he prepared to send his god's power coursing through his hands.
Despite his blasphemy, his holy symbol filled with the power of Corellon Larethian, and the zombies mostly fled. The party chased them into the corners and carved them into bits. Rodin irreverently kicked decapitated heads around the room.
The zombies defeated, they walked over to the door. Behind it lay a large room. It was a laboratory of some sort, but the shelves were bare. A large chest lay on one side, and a huge wooden box filled one corner. On the far side, was a chair with it's back to the door, facing a large window out over the estate. A book sat on the floor, just inside the doorway.
Nyvan stepped into the room and picked up the book, before hastily stepping back out.
"We've got the book, let's leave!" suggested Sigurd.
Instead Nyvan opened up the book and began to read. It was the journal of Victor Von Galuss. It talked about how he and his wife had begun to research eternal life and his experiments had helped him develop a ritual to make him and his wife immortal. He began killing visitors to his home, until no-one would visit any more. Eventually, he was left needing one more soul. With only his wife or child to choose from, his choice was tough, and he chose his daughter, thinking they could have more kids. His wife then killed herself and he was left alone. Even then, the ritual didn't quite work out.....
"This is the book" he announced.
"That's because it;s over here...." announced a voice from the chair. A figure stood up and turned to face them. Well over six foot tall, Victor von Galuss was dressed in black chainmail, with veins of red across it. He carried a wicked longblade in his hand. His flesh was pale and turned smoky and indistinct from time to time, the smokky complexion spreading across his body, as if he were part-ghost.
"....and you may not have it. Although I do have a use for you." continued the undead monster. A large book hanged from its belt.
"Oh yes?!" asked Nandrin.
"Yessss, I only need four more souls to conduct my ritual again - and you four fools will do!"
Battle was joined.
The creature was powerful, lashing out with his sword in multiple directions, and reaching out for Nyvan, as if to stick his hand through the paladin's chest - almost as if the elf were his chosen target. Nyvan was not surprised, it was normal for undead beasts to target him, being the most holy in the room.
The creature slashed at Rodin and Sigurd, wounding them both. The party struck at him with all of their might, Sigurd reinforcing Nyvan with his battle songs, Nyvan reinforcing himself with the power of his god, Nandrin sending fireballs into the room as his magics protected the book and his companions, while Rodin swung his axe in deadly arcs.
Before long, the creature was sorely wounded. Sigurd lay on the ground, bleeding from many wounds and Rodin was staggering from loss of blood. Nyvan poured his soul into his attacks and then, as suddenly as he had appeared, Victor von Galuss dropped to the floor, his body dissipating.
The party revived Sigurd with a healing potion, and rested.
They searched through the room, finding little of interest before unlocking the chest using the special key. To Rodin's horror, it locked the door behind them, with no visible means of reopening it. While his outrage echoed around the room, Nyvan unlocked the chest and shovelled it all into his backsack (not a backpack, or a rucksack, it's a backsack).
They smashed the window, and climbed down a rope, before heading back to the hunting lodge.
They entered the manor after a short bad-tempered exchanged with Trepsin, the four-armed troll. He ignored them and they walked into the lodge, and were lead to Talis' reception room.
To Nandrin and Rodin's distress, she was dressed for war, but the encounter passed without violence. The half-elf woman filled her side of the bargain. promising them the password to the castle, and directions to Parnast and even, should the castle have flown away, wyverns to take them through the air to their goal. She dismissed them.
The party rested, ready to head to Parnast, where the next part of their destiny awaited.
