...but fool me twice, and you're a rotten Eski-ho bitch!
Having returned to Waterdeep and survived a murderous attempt on their lives, our intrepid heroes find themselves on the Frostskimmr, a northern sailing vessel, headed for the Sea of Moving Ice, home of the dragon Arauthator and hiding place of the Draakhorn - allegedly, as well as the last known place they could find Maccath the Crimson, the world's foremost sage on the Draakhorn - missing now for several years.
Starring, in order they sit around the table:
Sigurd, (played by Iain) a travelling swordsman, who hates a cheat.
Venmir, (played by Brett) an elven clergyman, who like to storm off in outrage.
Nyvan, (played by Jason) a elven knight, who prefers to fight with honour, but just give him an excuse not to...
Rodin Halfbeard, (played by Lorne) the dwarven axeman (absent this evening).
Nandrin the Naughty, (played by Hilton), the elven mage, prone to exaggeration and threats of genocide.
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.
Once more the party are at less than full compliment - and this is likely to continue for at least a couple weeks due to various reasons. Anything more than two down and we don't play D&D that night. But we have enough, so it's hi-ho, off we go!
The ship travelled quickly. When the winds were light, out came the oars, so they made good time, despite the cramped quarters.
After a week, they reached the Sea of Moving Ice. It was an uneventful trip up to that point. They found the ships's captain, Lerustah, an engaging fellow, hard and uncompromising, but friendly in a gruff way. They never did mention his scarred face.
The Sea of Moving Ice was a huge place, filled with massive icebergs which moved around, crashing into one another. There were thousands of them. They knew what they were looking for - a massive iceberg, raised up from the sea, with peaks at one end. They began their search immediately.
During the course of the first day, they met two different groups of Ice Hunters, the natives who hunted in sealskin boats. The second group was chasing a group of seals across an ice floe, and Venmir suggested they follow them, or at least head in the same direction. They overtook the hunters and several hours later were rewarded with sight of their target.
They stayed offshore for the night, and prepared to head ashore first thing in the morning. As they collected their kit, they Venmir and Nandrin heard some weird noises, splashing of some sort over the side, but ignored it.
"It's just a kraken!" joked Nandrin. The heroes laughed, but the crew cringed.
His smiles turned upside-down when the first immense tentacle came over the side of the boat. On both sides of the boat, huge suckered tentacles lashed out at hero and crew alike, wrapping them tight, and squeezing the life out of them. By the time the heroes had extricated themselves from the deadly embraces, several of the crew had already been crushed and dragged off to their doom. Several rounds of intense combat later and the tentacles retreated into the sea. The party relaxed and the crew secretly cursed Nandrin for inviting doom upon them.
"Save me some squid!" said Nandrin, but everyone ignored him.
---------------------------------
They made their way to an ice shelf where a number of sealskin boats had been moored. The ground of the shelf was covered in bones, from small human-sized ones, to those of beasts bigger than anything the party had ever seen before. There were ribs ten foot long, but all it did was make Nyvan hungry.
At the far end, was a crevice with stairs carved into it, leading up to the plateau above. They made their way upstairs.
Once there, they found themselves in a rugged looking land, with drifts of snow and ice making it difficult to see very far in any direction. They headed off along a pathway.
Before long they could hear the sounds of many dogs barking, then they found themselves looking over a small valley with a village based in the middle. Standing between them and the village were several dozen Ice Hunters, armed and waiting for them.
By use of his bardic magic, Sigurd was able to converse with the villagers. He found them very difficult, rude even, and their every response to any question was to mislead, insult or scare them off. A squad of the villagers left on sleds, and the heroes worried they were about to be flanked, but the villagers disappeared back down the trail. Eventually the heroes grew frustrated.
Nandrin noticed one or two of the villagers heading into the largest building below and whispered a warning to his companions..."Loads of them are sneaking off - they're about to attack us!"
As the others prepared for an assault, and Sigurd suggested leaving, he realised he may have over-reacted and withdrew his previous comments. Still, the party talked for a little longer, then thought, "sod the lot of you....!" and went to camp elsewhere.
As they camped, they came up with a plan. Nandrin gave himself th power of flight, then made himself invisible. He flew off to investigate the village.
First he checked the large building, and found nothing but a wooden floor made of the planks of ships crushed by the moving ice and a pulley system, seemingly out of place, above a wooden floor. He went to check the Chieftain's hut, sure he would find Maccath there, if not in the main building.
Sadly, the Chief's hut ws barred by a huge local warrior, dressed in nothing but a loincloth, despite the cold. Nandrin came up with a plan, and dropped a large snowball near enough that the man might hear it. As he did so, the village shaman, a female, came to talk to the warrior. Nandrin quickly flew around the back of the large tent. He heard a sing-song sound coming from the shaman, but ignored it, cutting a small hole in the tent, so he could peer inside.
He pressed his face up against the cloth, and waited for his eyes to adjust.
"What are you looking for, flying man?" said a voice from below him.
With a start, Nandrin looked down to see the shaman woman standing beneath him, looking straight at him.
"Ummmmm, just looking for a friend." he replied.
"And you thought that sneaking around, out of our sight, was the best way to find them, or that vandalising my chieftain's tent was appropriate?" she asked, curious.
"Uhh, yes."
"Why not just ask?" she enquired.
"Well you people are so unhelpful! And rude!" he said indignantly.
"You have come to our home, and acted self-importantly, and now you are sneaking around like a thief, spying on our chief! I think our concerns are being validated."
"It was either sneak around or kill everyone in the village...." said Nandrin, defensively.
"So you are considering killing everyone in my village?!" she asked, outraged.
"No, it was just an option!" squealed Nandrin.
"So you are still thinking about it?!"
"No, not at all, we just really want to find out friend!" said the mage.
"I think it best you leave, immediately" said the woman,.
At that moment the mage decided to cut his losses and flee. He flew back to the others as quickly as he could.
As he shared his experience with the others, Venmir noticed a dozen Ice Hunters surrounding them - he warned the others. They turned to find the shaman and a further half dozen warriors stood just outside of the camp. She spoke in perfect common.
"Chief Barking Seal would meet with you. Since it seems you are not prepared to leave of your own accord, he wishes to strike a deal. Come with me."
The party followed her down in to the camp, where the Chieftain made a deal with them - one of them would meet their champion, Orcaheart, in one on one combat, with no magical assistance. Nyvan agreed. If Nyvan won, then the shaman, Bonecarver would help them with whatever information they sought. If Nyvan lost, then the party would leave the island forever, never to return. Nyvan agreed again.
Combat began with the combatants circling one another. Sigurd called out some insults and the massive native stumbled backwards in confusion, blinking his eyes. Nyvan leapt forward, and the pair swapped mighty blows, with Nyvan driving his sword into the massively-built Ice Hunter, while Orcaheart stabbed his mighty spear into Nyvan, time after time.
Orcaheart stumbled first, and Bonecarver helped him to his feet.
Nandrin whispered in outrage, "I'm pretty sure she just healed him..."
At that Sigurd exploded in outrage, cursing the woman and her antics. The two warriors continued their fight for a moment, before everyone paused to watch Sigurd.
"This is unfair! You filthy cheat! You say no magic, and yet you clearly healed your champion!"
"I did not!" she replied, innocently.
The fight continued for a moment, but paused as the argument developed. Nyvan took the opportunity to heal himself.
"Yes, you did! This is impossible! You are a liar and a cheat. You have lost this fight, and should forfeit! I demand that you tell us everything that you know!"
"I will do no such thing until the fight is over. I have not cheated, and neither warrior is defeated. The fight should continue."
Sigurd pulled out his sword, waving it towards the shaman. At that, the entire ring of natives jumped to their feet, pulling out their bows made of horn, and nocked arrows.
"You have no idea what you have unleashed here, woman! See that man there?" he pointed at Nandrin, who looked around, confused. "He could level your village with a word - and kill you all!"
"Ahhh, now your threats start again! We were right not to trust you, outlanders! Let him speak his word - if he can - before 40 arrows drive into his heart!" as she pointed at the mage, and shouted a command in her own language.
Nandrin looked distinctly uncomfortable and tried to make himself as small as possible - the harder to hit his heart with any number of arrows.
"Outrageous!" cried Sigurd, as he stomped off into the night. "Screw you all!" he screamed.
The others followed a short distance back.
As they walked off, Nyvan felt a strong hand on his shoulder. He turned to find the Ice Hunter Champion, looking mightily unhappy and gesturing back towards the fighting circle. Taking this for an invitation to finish the duel, Nyvan returned to the circle with the massive warrior.
"This is stupid!" interjected Venmir, "they're a bunch of rotten cheats. Don't fight him, Nyvan!"
"I must, brother, this is a matter of honour, responded the paladin, bowing to the native.
"You're as impossible as they are!" replied the cleric, having a little tantrum. That said, he and Nandrin returned to the village.
Sigurd returned to the camp and stomped from one end to the other, waiting for his companions. When none arrived, he went back to the village, to find Orcaheart, on his knees before Nyvan, offering his spear in surrender. Nyvan bowed, then put both hands on Orcaheart's mighty spear and lifted it in victory. Then he lifted the man to his feet, and bowed to him.
The shaman spoke, just as Sigurd returned to the light of the fire.
"The duel is finished. Chief Barking Seal has announced the outlander victorious, and so I must offer all of my assistance. First, we eat together."
She lead the heroes to a storeroom of sorts, and sat them down. Village women brought the heroes plates of pickled fish. Most of the heroes ate with gusto, apart from Venmir, who ate only at the outraged glare of the shaman at refusing the village's hospitality. The shaman spoke...
"The woman you seek, is under our village. In the lair of the dragon, Old White Death, in the ice caves below. It is protected not just by the dragon, but many vile beasts who serve the dragon. She has been there for a long time - and no-one has seen her alive for some time. I apologise for the way we have treated you. The dragon punishes us with death if anyone makes it past us - I'm sure you can appreciate that we do what we must to stay alive. I am also sorry for having poisoned your fish. I can assure you, it is not personal."
The heroes tried to stand, but found their legs wooden and their breath short - before they could even hope to cast a spell, or repair any damage, they faded to black.
---------------------------------
They awoke, some time later, in amongst a pile of old smelly furs. One by one, they returned to consciousness, and Nyvan, the first awake, frightened an odd ice toad creature so savagely that it jumped head first into a wall, knocking itself out. They found all of their gear nearby, and a note, signed Bonecarver, which apologised for the way that events had unfurled, but also added that she had not left them defenceless (by leaving their weapons near to hand) but also aided their escape (by partially cutting their bindings).
They were in ice caverns, similar to those under Castle Skyreach, but the cold was far greater. They left the room they were in, where they could see the ice chute they had been unceremoniously thrown down, and found themselves in a hallway. The first room they walked into was, to Sigurd's horror and joy, a kobold barracks. A quick melee ensued, but the kobolds were not match for the heroes and a handful of them fled, despite Venmir trying to swat them ineffectually with his bow. They moved on quickly. Sigurd lagged behind, sad that there was no furniture for him to destroy (see HotDQ 2-3 for more details on Sigurd's love of kobolds).
They passed through another room, full of equipment, before finding themselves in a strange room dominated by a pit with a large hook in the ceiling above it. Many theories were passed between the heroes, before they all realised it was pointless guessing and decided to walk on. After Sigurd started walking around the pit, Venmir flew into an unexpected flurry of cowardliness and refused to walk around the pit (blaming the twin gods Health and Safety). The party eventually had to walk all the way back to where they started to appease the chicken-hearted cleric.
They next found what could only be described as a trophy room of some sort. There were hordes of frozen enemies, including a massive squid ("Can someone get me some squid please?" asked Nandrin, but he was ignored again), ogres, trolls, yeti and others. At the far end, a massive longship sat - with no visible means of entry into the cave! Its upper masts touched the ceilingand the sails were unfurled. A chest full of gold sat on the deck.
The heroes decided to leave without touching a thing, no matter how tempting the gold.
They walked to another room, empty, but it had a ramp up on one end. As they got to the top, a huge ice troll leapt out, slashing at them with it's claws. The heroes leapt forward to the attack, and while the beast laid about it with wild abandon, it's unfocused rage could not make the cold fury of our adventuring pals and it soon died.
They gazed about the room in wonder.
The far side of the room was dominated by a huge red tent and the floor was covered in rugs and carpet. There were several braziers about the room, keeping it reasonably warm, and inside the tent at the far side they could see a desk, bookcases, chairs and a bed. Sat at the desk, was a tiefling, in red robes, reading a massive spellbook, while two kobolds stood behind her, eyeing the heroes fearfully.
As they got closer, the woman lifted her head, and they were shocked to see the sadness in her eyes, expecting only joy at a rescue attempt.
"Ahh, heroes. Have you come to save me, or to kill me? Either way is much the same to me..."
The party looked at one another in confusion briefly, before they started to answer...
(session end)
Trouble with the city guard...
The party are in the middle of a strange snake-filled dungeon, where they've been tricked, trapped and slapped daft - but still they continue. They seek Varram the White, one of the Wyrmspeakers, who was recently seen in Boareskyr Bridge - and they've tracked him to the Tomb of Diderius.
Starring, in order they sit around the table:
Sigurd, (played by Iain) a travelling swordsman, a proud proponent of the phrase "don't split the party".
Venmir, (played by Brett) an elven clergyman, a friend of the city guard.
Nyvan, (played by Jason) a elven knight, the only paladin in the world who believes in sacrifice and torture.
Rodin Halfbeard, (played by Lorne) the dwarven axeman (absent this evening).
Nandrin the Naughty, (played by Hilton), the elven mage, back to the bravest person in the party.
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 Tomb of Diderius has been a pleasant diversion for our heroes, but now they're knee-deep in yuan-ti and they still haven't found the dwarven cultist, Varram. And then who knows what will happen next!
They stood in a room filled with strange holes in the floor. Some dead lizardmen and a yuan-ti female lay dead on the floor. A quick scan of the room and its inhabitants revealed little apart from a large amount of smaller denomination coins in the holes. They hoovered up the coins and stuffed them in Venmir's Bag of Holding.
They headed along one corridor which lead to a room with nothing but a pair of alcoves in opposite walls, in which stood some serpent idols, and a pile of armour on the floor under each. Sigurd walked into the room to check the armour, and to his disgust, hordes of snakes slithered out from tiny holes at the base of the walls all around, heading straight for the armour and sliding inside it's holes to reanimate the armour - which charged forward to assault the intruders!
With poisoned blades and heavy armour, it took some time for the crew to take down the beasts and they cursed heartily during the course of a surprisingly lengthy battle. Eventually they were successful and the creatures returned to inanimate piles of armour. They decided to take a brief rest - even if there wasn't 100% agreement on resting in a place such as this.
They moved back to the last room, and found themselves in a short corridor with an arch on the right, right at the end of the hall, but there was a blank wall inside the arch. They walked forward to investigate, and set off a trap which filled the corridor with darts. Nandrin and Venmir were the worst affected by the poison, and once their paralysis wore off, found they had soiled their pantaloons - much to the amusement of the others.
They moved onwards, passing an empty prison room before entering a huge hall - filled with snake-men and horrible statues. At the far end stood a snakewoman, tall and proud, he eyes glaring at the intruders in her home. Behind her, huddled against an evil altar, was a dwarf, dressed in a loincloth and even from a distance it was clear he had been beaten. He didn't even lift his head as the heroes entered the room.
"You are not welcome here!" she hissed.
"We have come for the dwarf! Give him to us!" replied Venmir.
"No. He has promised us great wealth, and we shall collect. You must leave, or we will kill you." she promised.
"We aren't here to fight. We just want the dwarf - and we want to find his mask..." said Sigurd.
"He does not have it - that's why he was here. He was using Diderius' divination pool to find that which he treasured more than anything." hissed the priestess.
"The pool! Of course. How does it work? asked the swordsman.
"First you must fill it, then you must make a sacrifice of blood."
The party discussed the position for a moment, recognising the body in the pool room may have been for that exact purpose, and decided to barter for the dwarf.
"I can give you great wealth!" said the cleric, "and I can give it to you now! I offer you 200gp for the dwarf!" offered Venmir.
The others gasped at his tightfistedness.
"We're doomed..." whispered Sigurd.
"Your jokes are not welcome..." replied the high priestess.
"Why is everyone whispering?" asked Nyvan, in a quiet voice.
"That's how all snake-people talk," replied Sigurd, "they're sibilant...."
"Oh."
"Then I offer you 2000gp!" said Venmir as he gestured grandly.
The others gasped at his generosity. It obviously wasn't his money.
"Very well. You may take him. But be aware - we have removed his soul and he will not be able to speak until you have removed him from this place."
The deal was done and the party scarpered. They encountered no resistance on the way out, but did find themselves watched carefully by dozens of eyes. They soon left and travelled back to Boareskyr Bridge, where they quickly imprisoned the dwarf, who had still not spoken and followed them meekly along the path without argument.
They quizzed the Wyrmspeaker and found out how his mask had been stolen by a female gnome, and he had been trying to recover it when he was captured by the snake-people. His use of the pool had helped him to locate the mask - it had been recovered by the cult, leaving him with nothing - and he knew his life was forfeit if he returned to Severin the Red with nothing. The dwarf was depressed and nothing could scare him, or lift his spirits.
The party took only half a day at the paladin keep before using their teleport scroll to return to Waterdeep...
-------------------------------------------
They appeared in the same monastery as before, and met with Leosin, who arranged for the incarceration of Varram and got a report from them of their actions. He confirmed he would begin preparations for them to visit the Sea of Moving Ice and try to recover the Draakhorn. He suggested they find a place to stay first of all.
Sigurd decided to ask a local where he could find a suitable inn. He pulled out a coin and summoned a beggar - within seconds he was surrounded by clutching hands. The others stood by, laughing.
He finally fought through the throng, before getting directions from one particular snot-nosed brat. He reached down to reward the urchin further, only to find his coin purse had been slit and was empty. He cursed loudly, slamming his empty purse to the ground theatrically.
They spent two days in The Golden Nut, relaxing and preparing for the trip ahead. They visited several shops to buy clothing and equipment for their trip.
After two nights, they sat around the table, preparing for supper. The waitress came out, offering them all their usual drinks. Venmir noted her hand shaking as she put his drink down, and her smile lacked its usual verve. As she walked back into the kitchen, he alerted the others, and they followed her into the kitchen (everyone but Nyvan).
Standing in the kitchen were two cultists putting a liquid of some sort into mugs. They looked momentarily shocked before pulling out their daggers and advancing on the heroes. At the same time, the front door burst inward, filling the room with sharp splinters of wood. Standing in the door way was a massive blue half-dragon, reminiscent of Cyanwrath (see early HotDQ episodes). Several staff lay dead on the floor.
They all dashed past before the half-dragon could ready himself, apart from Nandrin, who craftily made himself invisible. The two cultists dashed through from the kitchen as the half-dragon followed the heroes up the stairs.
As Nandrin watched, a fourth figure walked into the tavern room. Powerfully built, and dressed like a cultist, he ordered the two cultists from the kitchen up the stairs. "Follow Gorger - and kill them all." He moved to the bottom of the stairs, waiting for word.
Upstairs, the half-dragon charged into the doorway on Nyvan's room, and growled, "Prepare to die, elf!".
"You first, I'll follow in several hundred years!" replied Nyvan, and then the two were locked in combat. Sigurd ran up behind him and started slashing at his back, ignoring the two cultists who now started attacking him from his flank. Venmir peppered them with arrows from further down the hall.
The only voice was Sigurd, calling out for the mage, but no-one knew where he was.
Downstairs, the ringleader stood at the base of the stairs. Nandrin snuck up behind him, before launching a volley of magic missiles in his back. Nandrin then dashed backwards into the street, the better to blow something up, not wanting to hurt any passers-by. The leader followed, cursing loudly, and he was again struck by Nandrin as her appeared in the doorway. Nandrin smiled to himself, pleased that his plan was working and that he would single-handedly kill the boss-man.
The man leapt forward, his knives a blur as they slammed into Nandrin's chest - how could he have moved so quickly? Nandrin stumbled backwards, dismayed.
Back upstairs, the battle raged, but the half-dragon, exchanging massive blows with Nyvan, could not stand up against both Nyvan and Sigurd. He fell to the floor, gurgling, while Sigurd turned to face the last cultist behind him. Nyvan stopped to heal himself, much to Sigurd's disgust. Sigurd, on his last feet, struck out at the last man in front of him, striking him down. He turned to cast a dismissive glare at Nyvan before asking, "Where's the mage?"
No one answered.
Outside, Nandrin lashed out with his magics, driving his enemy back a step - but not enough. He lashed out again with a dagger, cutting Nandrin's chest. He took an involuntary step backwards, before the man pulled an amulet from his shirt, which sent a blast of lightning into Nandrin's chest with massive force. He fell backwards onto the floor, the darkness over-taking him.
-----------------------------------
"Where's the mage?" asked Sigurd.
"Downstairs, I guess." replied Sigurd.
They quickly moved downstairs, and it was Nyvan who found Nandrin's body in the street. He quickly checked the mage's pulse. It was weak and fluttering. Sadly, he had used all of his healing power selfishly recovering from his battle with the half-dragon. He looked through his pouch, and luckily found a healing potion. He poured it down the mage's throat.
The others ran out, just in time to see Nandrin recover from his wounds. His clothes were smoking and covered in blood. The leader of the evil-doers was nowhere to be seen.
He and Sigurd had a blazing row about tactics - which mainly revolved around a mage trying to take on the leader of an enemy kill squad on his own. Nandrin believed it was a chance at glory, and worth the risk. The others didn't.
As they stood in the aftermath, the city guard arrived. The Guard Sergeant quickly demanded that the heroes drop their weapons. Venmir stood firm, his bow in his hand.
"Check my pouch. It has a writ in it." said the cleric.
"What does it say?" asked the Sergeant, unwilling to trust a stranger. He hadn;t survived this long in a city like Waterdeep by believing everyone he heard.
"Fine! I'll get it out." said Venmir as he dropped his bow. His hand dropped to his pouch.
"Halt! Just tell me what it says." demanded the sergeant.
"No! You should just read it!"
"You will tell me what it says, now!
"Just read the fucking writ, you moron!"
Sigurd, keen to avoid further issues, quickly interjected.
"We are working on behalf of the Council of Waterdeep. Our writs give us powers to act." said Sigurd, speaking placatingly to the guardsman.
At the explanation, the matter cooled down and the writs were shown.
Sigurd took the time to discuss the situation with the landlord, and the party ended up paying more than 2k in reparations to the landlord and to the families of the staff who were dead.
As they discussed it, another Guard walked in. The Lord Protector of the City guard cut an impressive figure, and he spent a few minutes discussing the situation with the sergeant. When he was done, he approached Venmir.
"Sir, I am the Lord Protector of the Waterdeep City Guard." he waited for an acknowledging nod from Venmir before continuing. "I understand that you work at the behest of The Council of Waterdeep, and act under the auspices of Lady Silverhand. However, I do not believe your authority extends to the abuse of my men. I would suggest, strongly, that you treat my men with respect. They put their lives on the line every day and every night - and they should not have to expect such treatment at the hands of those who they are required to assist. I would not want to have to report this kind of situation to Lady Silverhand. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"
Venmir nodded.
"Then the matter is resolved and will not be mentioned again." (apart from in this blog!)
At that, a messenger arrived to warn them that Leosin was waiting to speak with them. They headed off immediately.
They met with Leosin, who told them that he had found them a ship, called the FrostSkimmr, which would take them into the Sea of Moving Ice. It was captained by his friend, Captain Larustah. An enigmatic man, who always wore a hood and had been horribly disfigured at some point in the past. He suggested they not mention the hood.
They went straight to the docks, where the ship awaited.
Lerustah met them on the dock. He greeted them cordially and made sure they were well-equipped for the trip. After a few minutes of discussions, the party prepared to board the ship. Nandrin stopped to talk with the Captain.
He mumbled something about fashion statements and finished with, "I don't think David Beckham would be seen dead in that!"
The seaman glared at him from under the edge of his hood.
"I don't know who that is. Get on my ship, dickhead."
Nandrin paused for a moment, then walked up the gangplank to the giggles of his companions...
Or: How to influence Snake-People.
Having seen their friends brought back to life, and the having survived (in some cases, barely) the council of Waterdeep, our intrepid heroes are on the march again. This time to Boareskyr Bridge, where there was a recent sighting of Varram the White, one of the Wyrmspeakers, and nemesis of Venmir and Nyvan's close friend, Talis the White. In fact, Nyvan has promised to kill him for the woman he once had a crush on (and recently killed him).
Starring, in order they sit around the table:
Sigurd, (played by Iain) a travelling swordsman, still shaking his head a week later.
Venmir, (played by Brett) an elven clergyman, who for once hasn't gotten thrown out of a meeting on his arse.
Nyvan, (played by Jason) a elven knight, alive (but absent this evening).
Rodin Halfbeard, (played by Lorne) the dwarven axeman, alive, but as clumsy as ever - will he ever manage to stay upright?
Nandrin the Naughty, (played by Hilton), the elven mage, alive, but somewhat prone to encouraging attacks on the party.
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.
Oh Rise of Tiamat, you are so mean to our heroes. Between slippery bridges and paper-thin walls, the environments alone are killer here - surely they couldn't make it worse, could they? Read on, and find out!
They stood in the paladin keep near Boareskyr Bridge, considering their options. They knew Varram had headed up into the hills, with an entourage, but where to or what for, no-one was sure. They needed more information - and they started with the Paladin Captain. He respectfully suggested they try to get a scout and, if possible, keep an eye out for one of his patrols, four men strong, which was several days late.
The cunning adventurers made their way back into the tent city, intent on finding a scout. they stopped a local tribesman, carrying a number of rabbits, eager to find somewhere to sell them. Despite some cunning bartering by Sigurd, the hunter walked away without doing a deal - but a local urchin caught Sigurd's eye and told him the name of the best escort in town, Eldebard.
Luckily, he also sent them to the only place they knew, Bolo's Tentside Inn. They walked in to find the halfling serving girls avoiding Rodin, but Bolo stopped for a moment when Rodin caught her attention.
"No more fighting, city dwarf!" she warned.
"No, ma'am!" he replied, respectfully as she eyed him warily, "and I'm not a city dwarf" he said super quietly under his breath, in case she heard him.
"We're looking for Eldebard." said Sigurd.
"You're wanting a scout..." replied the halfling innkeeper. She pointed at the makeshift bar, where a man dressed in furs sat on a stool, face down on the bar in a puddle of drool. "That's him over there, sleeping off his last scouting mission."
They walked over, where after several attempts, they got the attention of the drunk hunter, who leapt to his feet, daggers in his hands! They quickly calmed him down.
"What do you want?" he spat, wiping a patch of dribble from the side of his face.
"We are looking for a guide into the Serpent Hills." said Sigurd.
"Oh, you're just fools, then?" replied the surly hunter.
"Perhaps. Do you know your way around the Serpent Hills?"
"Yes. The charge is 200gp. 100gp now, the rest when we arrive at whatever your destination is."
"Speaking of that. Um.....what is in the Serpent Hills anyway?" asked Sigurd.
"A whole lot of serpents, beasts, ruins and bodies."
"Fair enough, you're hired." said Sigurd, as the tracker held out his hand for the first part of his payment.
They left immediately, walking up towards the hills, which were little more than badlands, filled with mesas and rocky plateaux, filled with small groups of trees and filled with long grass. After a couple hours of walking, Eldebard halted them.
"Something ahead." he stated, as he pointed in front of him at a small clump of trees.
"Stay behind us!" instructed Venmir as they walked forward.
"Yeah....I wasn't intending on moving, anyway." muttered the hungover hunter.
The party walked forward and found a body lying in a small clearing. It was a human, in full plate armour. A trail of blood lead off - he had obviously crawled there. He groaned - and they leapt into action.
Venmir quickly cast a healing spell, while Nandrin leant down to comfort the man.
"Who are you?" asked the man.
"Friends." replied Nandrin.
"Obviously. But who are you?"
"We saved your life." said the mage.
"Yes, I noticed, thank you. BUT WHO ARE YOU?" said the man, growing increasingly irate.
"Your Captain sent us to look for you" said Sigurd.
"Thanks, but who.....oh never mind."
"What happened to you? Did you drag yourself all the way here?" asked Venmir, looking at a huge hole in the front of the paladin's armour.
"I must have damaged myself crawling over a rock. I prefer to drag myself rather than walk." he replied.
"Sarcastic arse." muttered Rodin.
Venmir decided to follow the blood trail. Almost an hour later, he found himself standing in another clearing, where three other heavily-armoured bodies lay dead. He returned to the others. They further interrogated the paladin, and found out he knew little - he had been in the lead and was struck from his horse without warning, knocking him from his horse. They decided to escort him back to Boareskyr Bridge.
Eldebard pointed out an obvious trail in the grass - it leads straight to Diderius' Tomb, he told them, which was the resting place of a mage who claimed to know everything or knew where to find everything, or some such nonsense. He gave them simple directions.
Once back at the base, they decided to leave the scout behind.
"Excellent news!" he announced, holding out his hand for the rest of his money.
And ain't nobody gonna pay me enough to come and collect your bodies. Idiots." he said in a loud voice, as he walked away.
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Later the next day, after a quiet night spent resting in the hills, they soon found themselves standing near a ruined village at the base of a cliff. There was a well, and several buildings, as well as a campfire which was still smoking. There were three bedrolls next to it, and a number of shallow graves nearby. Two large statues stood either side of the path which lead to where a series of stone steps would have lead up to a hole in the wall, had they not collapsed years ago.
As they walked between the statues, they started to move, and then voices came forth from the air:
"Halt! You come before Diderius, ether walker and conduit of clairvoyance. Behold ye now his wondrous triumphs. Diderius extends wisdom and Diderius offers knowledge. Which do you seek?"
"We come seeking knowledge." announced Sigurd. The others didn't speak.
"Diderius shall grant what you seek, but only if you heed him and continue to show proper respect!" and with that the statues returned to their original position.
They walked forward, until Rodin noticed something in the grass at the base of the cliff.
"Stop!" he shouted to his companions and pointed into the long grass.
Venmir started to sneak forward, while Rodin threw rocks into the dense grass. Sigurd ignored them and walked forward, where he quickly announced that the dangerous beast they were sneaking around was none other than a ladder.
They set the ladder against the wall and climbed up it.
They walked through the entry chamber and found themselves in a long chamber flanked by statues with deep hooded heads. Sigurd heard a warning in his head from nowhere, and warned the others not to look into the darkness under the hoods. Everyone duly put their heads down and walked through the room quickly.
The next room had a tiled floor, which showed a massive chimera. Sigurd thought he noticed it moving as he walked into the room, but dismissed it as a figment of his imagination. They others filed into the room, The door on the west wall had the word "safe" written on it in chalk.
"That could be a trap!" said Nandrin.
"Maybe, or maybe......." said Rodin, just as the chimera on the floor started to rise. It was a strange beast, half monster, and half tiles, when it turned sideways, it became barely visible.
Combat was joined, and the party leapt at the beast, suffering several bites from its jaws, and barely dodging horrible flames from its dragon's head. Nandrin struck the creature a mighty blow with a shatter spell, and the others all slammed their blades into the beast and, despite it's best efforts to dodge, soon found itself shattered into a thousand tiles.
The party moved west and found a well, with a strange basin up on the wall to the north. The room was filled with bright red mushrooms.There was a contraption for bringing water up from the well, but the party ignored the room and moved on.
North from the mosaic room lead to a room with a large dry well. On the floor was a body, pierced by multiple arrows with stone heads, shaped like fangs. They spent little time in the room, and moved to the next, making their way past some heavy broken doors.
The next room was oppressive, with a large sarcophagus in the middle of the room. The walls were covered in frescoes, which Venmir and Rodin stepped forward to examine. Rodin slipped and his hand smashed through the fresco which was nothing but a thin veneer of plaster. He pulled his hand back, but all of a sudden, a wiry undead hand shot out from the hole, gripping his forearm. As Rodin squealed in fear, a mummy burst out of the wall to attack him - and three others did the same from around the room.
The room descended into chaos. The party found themselves attacked from all directions. They lay about them with fire and blade, and the mummies fell back for a moment, but just long enough for the massive lid of the sarcophagus to be flung back. A figure stood up and loomed over them. It was like a mummy, but heavily built and strong-voiced. It's bandages were clean and it was feet taller than the other mummies.
"STOP!" it said in a deep, powerful voice which caused everyone in the room to stop where they were.
"You said you came here seeking knowledge, but now I find you killing my advisors? What madness is this?" it asked.
"We're terribly sorry, Master Didorius!" said Sigurd, bowing his head.
"My name is Diderius! Show respect!" he cried.
Everyone bowed their heads, and Rodin dropped to one knee. They all showed respect.
"Excellent. I am prepared to overlook this matter." he said with a wave of his hand, as the mummies moved back into their holes in the wall and the plaster flew up to reform in front of them. "What do you want?"
"We seek Varram the White..." said the swordsman.
"Ah yes, the dwarf who came seeking what was once his. The serpents have him. They are beyond this place - prepare yourselves." he waved his hand and a door opened in the far wall - one they had not seen before. He settled back into his sarcophagus.
The party relaxed and sat down to prepare, when a rush of lizardfolk rushed into the room. The heroes, however, were experienced with their fighting techniques and they lasted only seconds.
They decided to move on swiftly.
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The next room was empty, but the one after that was dominated by a bridge across a massive chasm. It dropped so far into the darkness they could not see the bottom. The wide stone bridge was covered in moss and slime, and the walls and ceiling dripped with condensation. The room was warm and humid. On the far side of the bridge were four lizardfolk and two serpent men - Yuan-Ti.
Nandrin quickly summoned a flaming sphere, which blocked everyone's view. Venmir fired his bow, and Sigurd ran forward, only to slip on the slimy bridge and barely catch himself on the enge. Rodin watched the swordsman fall, but decided the only way was forward, and he charged across the bridge, also slipping but catching himself. The cold-blooded enemies fired their bows and spells and arrows answered them. Rodin and Sigurd pulled themselves to their feet, and Sigurd charged across the bridge, slamming into one of the yuan-ti. The lizardfolk were dead or gone. He found himself facing off against the two serpentmen, but he was undaunted. Rodin ran after him, but once more fell off the bridge, barely catching himself.
Nandrin sent his sphere forward and burnt one of their foes, while Sigurd carved the other up with his blade. More spells came from Nandrin, and the yuan-ti fell dead. Rodin clung to the edge of the bridge.
"Help!" he squeaked, and Nandrin sent his sphere across the bridge, drying out the slime. Rodin pulled himself up......nor at least he tried to. Rodin reached forward and grabbed hold of a clump of moss, but it came away in his hands (roll anything but a 1, Rodin....and he rolled a 1!) and he fell backwards into the darkness, neatly avoiding Venmir's despairing dive...
Luckily, Sigurd jumped to the edge and, with a word, slowed the dwarf's fall and he landed a hundred feet down, waist-deep in water. Convinced he was not alone, the dwarf cried out for help, his voice cracking. The others combined their ropes and dragged him back up. they continued further.
They followed several passageways before finding themselves standing above a massive pit. The floor writhed with hundreds, if not thousands of baby serpent-men, cracked eggs, new eggs, pieces of flesh and bones sticking up from the moving mass. In the centre of the room stood a massive yuan-ti, nearly twenty foot long, it held in its hands a massive bow and it screamed in rage when it saw the intruders.
"No!" shouted Sigurd. "We are not here to harm you."
"....or your babies!" added Nandrin.
Everyone looked at Nandrin in horror as the creature screamed.
"My babies!" and with that started firing arrows at the heroes. They fled back down the corridor and waited for signs of pursuit, but were pleased to find the creature was reluctant to leave its offspring.
they walked across the corridor to another room.
Inside it, they found a number of lizardfolk, and a strange yuan-ti, which resembled a scantily clad female with bright green eyes.
Nandrin immediately flung a fireball into the room and the lizardfolk died instantly. He scanned the room expectantly (I'm checking to see if her clothes burnt off, he announced, out of character).
Sigurd, ignoring his pervy party-mate, ran up to the beast and slashed at her (if my blades cut her clothing free, that's not my fault, he declared) but his blade avoided her clothing and she fell dead at his feet.
"What a shame" he said, as he pushed her over with the point of his blade.
He turned to the others and shrugged. They were all grinning.
-----------------------------------
"You filthy dwarven pervert!"
Sigurd and Venmir are alive, and summoned to Waterdeep by Leosin Erlanthar. They have control of Skyreach Castle, via its pilot Esclarella, wife of Blagothkus.
Starring, in order they sit around the table:
Sigurd , (played by Iain) a travelling swordsman, with a pocketful of money.
Venmir, (played by Brett) an elven clergyman, with a pocketful of money.
Nyvan, (played by Jason) a elven knight, deceased (absent this evening).
Rodin Halfbeard, (played by Lorne) the dwarven axeman, deceased.
Nandrin the Naughty, (played by Hilton), the elven mage, deceased.
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 first in the Rise of Tiamat adventures, it starts with most of the party dead and the remainder on a flying castle heading for Waterdeep. Tonight, plus many other nights to come in Rise of Tiamat, is role-play heavy. In the interests of maintaining both my sanity and my desire to write this blog, some of the heavier parts will be paraphrased.
They took the flying castle to a town fifty miles south of Waterdeep, on the road to Daggerford. It hovered, several miles above the earth, far from the sight of anyone on the land. They activated the teleport scroll that a raven had delivered nearly a week ago.
After a brief stab of bright light, they found themselves stood in a large chamber, in a church..no, the presence of many men in habits meant it was a monastery. Several nearby monks froze for a moment, before carrying on with their business. One approached them, then ran off to find Leosin Erlanthar.
Within minutes, the wiry half-elven monk ran into the room, greeting them warmly, and offering commiserations for the dead among them. At Venmir's request, he sent for a priest of Torm who was known to offer healing and a return to life in exchange for copious amounts of gold. After paying an exorbitant amount in gold, they left the monastery to search the local area and pawn some of the jewellery they had found in the dragon's hoard. Leosin warned them that a Council of Waterdeep meeting had been planned for later - and they were to be there.
Just as they got to the local market, a strange disquieting calm fell across the entire place, it was as if a cold wicked wind passed through the air, leaving everyone touched, even if they didn't know what it was from. After a few moments, the feeling passed, and the whole place returned to normal. Waterdeep was not a place to remain creeped out for long.
As they couldn't find a suitable vendor, they headed for a more affluent part of town, and found a merchant who sold the kind of jewellery that they had in their bag of holding. Much to the delight of the merchant, it sold for measly 1k gp, but the heroes were happy, and they went back to the monastery.
There they found their friends, alive, and arguing over events - as usual (there was quite a bit of poetic licence involved here, but to be fair, I wanted the group together for this - and death is but a trivial obstacle to a group of this power and wealth!).
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They left the monastery in good time to arrive early for the Council gathering, and they took their seats, in the centre of a massive underground chamber in Waterdeep Palace. Above them was a long, semi-circular table - this is where the Council Lords would sit. Leosin briefly told them about the lords who would be present and what they were like.
They met the lords:
For the Harpers, Remallia Haventree
For the Order of the Gauntlet, Ontharr Frume
For the Emerald enclave, Delaan Winterhound
For the Lords Alliance:
Lady Laeral Silverhand, of Waterdeep
Lord Lagult Neverember, of Neverwinter
Ambassador Connerad Brawnanvil, of the Dwarves
Marshall Ulder Ravengard, of Baldur's Gate
King Melandrach, of the Elves
Taern "Thunderspells" Hornblade, of Silverymoon
Sir Isteval, of Cormyr
Each of them powerful in their own way, the final seven were lords and masters of the most powerful factions of the Sword Coast, with thousands of soldiers, mercenaries and mages under their command.
"Show respect..." begged Leosin as he left the room.
Lord Neverember took command of the Council, as usual. First, he welcomed the heroes and invited them to tell their story, which Sigurd did with input from the others. He also thanked them for bringing Skyreach Castle to their side - it was to be a powerful tool in the battle against the Dragon Cult.
The party soon found themselves embroiled in a series of bitter arguments, between the Council members and the party, as well as each other. Some members of the Council were unhappy at the crushing of the eggs in the hatchery long ago near Greenest, while others felt it was completely necessary. They were given kudos for the killing of Rezmir the Black, although most were unhappy that Rath Modar, the Red Wizard of Thay, had escaped.
It soon became apparent that the heroes had taken a firm hand in addressing the cult's actions the entire chamber stood to applaud them.
They were then deputised by Council and given emergency investigative powers. They were each given a writ, giving the Council's backing. They were warned not to abuse the power provided them, or risk it taken away.
They talked of what lay ahead. Of potential allies, and their enemies.
Then Leosin was invited back into the room, to give new updates on the cult's activities. They had located Varram the White, near Boareskyr Bridge. A local noble, named Dala Silmerhelve, spoke of a magical artifact, called the Draakhorn - which had caused the uneasy feelings, and was a summoning tool for the dragons. She offered to speak with the party in private, after Nandin accidentally suggested a meeting after the Council.
Rodin asked the Council what they thought of a potential alliance with the Red Wizards of Thay who opposed the actions of Rath Modar - which was met with disapproval from some, most vehemently from Ontharr Frume, who gave Rodin a jolly good telling off. Not everyone agreed with his assessment, but none dared argue.
Then came the final flashpoint of the meeting. Nandrin, who had mostly kept his tongue, addressed the Council table.
"Sirs, thank you for your time. The only thing I would ask is if you have any ways of assisting us with our tasks. You know, like if any of you have any magic lying around, or items we might find useful?"
Sigurd shook his head vigorously, begging Nandrin to stop.
"Are you asking us to equip you?" asked Thunderspells, one of the mightiest mages in the known world.
"No!" replied Nandrin, "I just think if you're all so powerful, you could spare a few bits to help us out?"
"I think we have done enough!" stated Thunderspells.
"No, you can do more!" replied Nandrin.
"Enough!" demanded the mage, unused to having his authority questioned by anyone. He stood up, and pressed his fists into the table. Leaning forward. The entire chamber, apart from Nandrin, pulled back a little. Thunderspells was known throughout the Sword Coast as a mild-mannered man, but rumours existed of his power - unrivalled since Elminster and Khelben Blackstaff.
Nandrin surged to his feet, pressing his fists into the table in front of him. "No!" he exclaimed, ready to continue the argument, when a loud voice rang through the chamber, punctuated by his mailed fist slamming into the table, hard enough for everyone to feel the vibration.
"You will show respect, or you will be removed. And you would not enjoy being removed. Am I clear?" declared Neverember. He spoke softly, but the menace was undeniable.
Nandrin sank back into his seat and stayed quiet. The rest of the party sighed in relief.
"This Council is done for now. We will meet again when it is appropriate. Dismissed."
The room emptied.
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Rodin and Sigurd had private meetings with Council members (which will remain private!) and the others met with Dala Silmerhelve, who told them of the Draakhorn, and how it was last seen in the Sea of Moving Ice, far to the north, and protected by a massive white dragon.
The party decided to go find Varram the White first. The dragon and the Draakhorn could wait.
They set out for Boareskyr Bridge.
One night, not long from their destination, they found themselves waylaid in the night. Suddenly, with little warning, two huge humanoids rushed their camp. Giants! Battle was joined.
Nandrin immediately powered his new staff, causing several giant wasps to appear (which the DM accidentally called "wops" :(). As the others charged into combat, he sent them into the fray as well, where they buzzed about the giants threateningly. As the combat started and blows were swapped, Nandrin immediately flung a fireball into the clearing, destroying most of his wops...I mean wasps, but severely damaging the giants.
As the melee types dished out more damage, the giants lay about them with their massive clubs, striking the heroes repeatedly. Nandrin, however, was not done, and flung another fireball into the mix. Before long, the giants were nothing but smouldering remains - it seems as if Nandrin needed to let a little steam loose after his encounter with Thunderspells!
They all slept well...well, Nandrin slept well, the others all waited for him to go crazy again.
-----------------------------
They soon arrived at Boareskyr Bridge. It was a makeshift camp around a river crossing, guarded by a fairly new keep, inhabited by paladins of Torm. The party went straight to an inn in the centre of the town, a tent tavern called Bolo's Tentside Inn.
They got some drinks, and decided to ask the halfling waitress about Varram. As she was about to leave the table, Rodin grabbed her by the arm to stop her leaving.
"Let go of my you filthy dwarven pervert!" cried the halfling girl.
"I was just trying to get your attention, girl." replied to dwarf.
"By grabbing her, like a pervert! You weirdo!" the girl weaved her way through the crowd expertly, leaving Rodin stood, bemused.
The dwarf spied some dwarves nearby and sauntered over.
"Ahoy chums!" he ventured.
"Oh look," said one, "it's a pretty city dwarf. Come to teach us some manners. And how to wash our hair."
"I am no city dwarf. I am as common as you are." exclaimed Rodin.
"Oh la-de-da, 'I'm no city dwarf', he said in a Baldur's accent, clean as a daisy!" mocked one of them.
"I'm the queen of dwarves!" said another.
They all burst out laughing, and Rodin's temper got the better of him. He slammed his drink on the table - but before he could lay into one of the dwarves, he was stopped by the proprietor, Bolo, a female halfling.
"Enough of that!" she stated, and the place died down straight away.
The party took the chance to question her, and soon found out that Varram was something of a hero, having slaughtered a Yuan-ti which had infiltrated the tent city.
"He ran off into the Serpent Hills straight away, with a bunch of soldiers, and hooded men - but make no mistake, he's a good one, that Varram." she smiled, and returned to her work.
Venmir suggested they speak with the local paladins, and off they went. After being rebuffed by the guard at the gate, showing their writ allowed them audience with the local captain.
He had them each show their writs, much to Venmir's annoyance. Yet he told them a story much the same as Bolo. Varram and his escorts had killed a snakeman in the town, then left in a massive hurry for the Serpent Hills some time ago. If he was to be found, he would be found up there.
The party paused to consider their options.....
