One trendsetter of a dwarf!
In the Misty Forest, no-one can hear you scream. Allegedly. And that's where our heroes are - deep in the forest, standing on the edge of a lake, with a waterfall leading into it, knowing that a dragon's lair lies behind the waterfall. What happens next?
Starring, in order they sit around the table:
Rodin Halfbeard, (played by Lorne) the dwarven axeman, and trend-setting city dwarf.
Venmir, (played by Brett) an elven clergyman, and new found man of empathy.
Nyvan, (played by Jason) an elven knight, sick of having his kills stolen.
Sigurd, (played by Iain) a travelling swordsman, finisher-off of beasties and unintentional answerer of riddles.
Nandrin the Naughty, (played by Hilton), the elven mage, and inadvertent doomer of them all.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.
Back to a full compliment of adventurers (welcome back, Hilton!), the party are now taking a short step away from the official module for a bit of a dungeon crawl, courtesy of a 1990's AD&D module....the name of which will remain secret!.
The heroes stood in the large open cave, as a large green dragon flew away, it's rider's taunts ringing in their ears.
"Say hello to my traitorous father, Melandrach!"
The figures dwindled into the distance. Their reactions were varied (see RoT-7) and they rested briefly, before heading back into the Misty Forest, and then making their way back to Waterdeep.
There they immediately headed for the monastery where they knew they could find Leosin Erlanthar. He was summoned and turned up in mere moments, as usual. He always was quicker than they thought he would be.
After he listened patiently to their story, he told them how Nandrin had been sent into Limbo to find his missing agent. That was nearly three weeks ago - and there had been no sign since. They believed he was dead. The party contemplated continuing without their friend, and it was not a pleasant thought.
At that exact moment, as if by divine providence, a portal burst into existence before them. Sigurd and Venmir pulled out their weapons. A figure flew through the portal and fell to its knees on the floor. It was Nandrin, bedraggled, dirty and tired out. Before the heroes could prepare for what followed, the portal closed with a loud pop.
He explained how he had found the missing giant children, they were in the Undermountain, far below the surface, on a level long lost. He told them of a portal, hidden in the sewers, open only for a few days a year - and as luck would have it, it would be open soon. All he knew was the the place they were looking for was once home to the Melairkyn dwarven clan, one of the oldest clans in history, long gone for the last 400 years or more. Little else was known.
They prepared for the trip, knowing they were heading into danger to fulfill their vow to Blagothkus, ex-master of Skyreach Castle, to save his children from the clutches of the cult.
They made their way into the sewers and headed for where they knew the portal would be - 100 paces south of a junction not far from the centre of town. As they approached, they saw a sparkling in the sewage water. While the others waited to check the area, Sigurd and Venmir ran forward into the sparkling and disappeared from site. The others waited - and then a few seconds later, they entered as well.
Sigurd and Venmir found themselves in a large room, filled with rubbish and sewage. There was a large octagon on the floor and its outline shone with an unearthly light. It faded from few. they looked about - on each wall of the four in the room was a door. One looked in far better condition than the others. On the floor near it was a series of large keyholes.
A few moments later, the light flashed up again and a group of carrion crawlers appeared in the room. They immediately began to snuffle through the waste, ignoring the party. A few seconds later, and the rest of the party appeared.
After a brief discussion, they headed for the larger door, before Sigurd suddenly stopped. "We should head West!" he said. He seemed quite sure - and there was no reason to argue, so they did.
Behind the door was a passageway which lead to another door. When they passed through, they found themselves in an impressive corridor, thirty foot wide with lifelike statues of dwarves, dressed in real armour, and torches on the walls which flickered into life as they walked in. The shadows danced back along the walls like a cloak.
At the end of the hall were stairs the width of the corridor, leading up. they walked up them to find themselves in an even longer room. The walls were covered in hundreds of murals, showing dwarves mining, drinking, fighting, hunting and forging. At the far end was a massive pair of stone doors - in the wall above it was a stone face, and near the ceiling were two huge silver gongs. Nearby were a paid of dwarven statues, each wielding a massive silver mallet, poised to strike the air.
As they approached the door, the eyes in the stone face, made up of huge diamonds, opened and a voice came from the mouth:
"Honor Dumathoin and the clan that fell before your first beard by answering with truth and good dwarf-sense. Step forward into the light and reveal to me what tells no lies, answers
many questions, and inhabits all, but lasts only as long as patience."
A light shone upon the floor.
The party spent a considerable period of time thinking for an answer - and they tried many; gold, ale, truth, stone, and loyalty - and each time the face frowned - before Rodin stood in the light with his axe raised in salute, silent. The voice spoke again.
"I extend my greetings, should you be earnest pilgrims. I extend nothing to those who would defile this place. Step beyond, and gain enlightenment, dwarf-friend. If you seek riches and plunder over knowledge though, to enter is to become a lonely secret hidden under the earth."
The doors opened.
They walked into the next room, which was even grander than before. Easily 150 feet across, and the same high and wide, Several massive dwarven statues stood in the corners, and a huge statues of a dwarven deity, 60 foot tall stood on the far side. Massive stairs lead up on the far side.
As they walked into the room, the doors behind them slammed open, and a roiling cloud of smoke and lightning followed them into the room. A booming voice filled the room:
"Have you been lonely, little dwarves? Here are some friends to accompany you and to teach you it’s not wise to thwart the will of he who rules the Underhalls!"
A massive pair of hands reached out through the cloud, and clapped with a huge boom, sending lightning into the room. One particularly large arc slammed into the floor and materialised into three giant forms, each with two heads. The doors behind them slammed shut, and portcullises fell down over the stairways.
The creatures lumbered forward, and one of the huge silver dwarf statues leapt at it, striking it with a huge axe. The other two charged the party.
Battle ensued and the heroes quickly demolished their gient foes, but not before one of them slashed into Rodin time after time, wounding him seriously. They turned as the last one fell, to see the dwarven statue block a wild blow, then decapitate both heads of the ettin with one mighty swipe. It walked over to the heroes and stood over them. It turned to stare purposefully at the wall. the portcullises at the far end lifted.
One of the murals then came to life, a troll turning its face to look at the party, and its head turning into that of an elderly but striking dwarven lord. It spoke.
"Well, it seems the curiosity of surface folk has brought some strife to my temple. You have fought well, young ones, and I entreat you to continue. Old Halaster has infested the temple and tombs with all manner of monstrosities and I have need of your help. You shall be well rewarded by both Dumathoin and myself, provided you fight bravely. I need your words that you bring only aid not harm to us here! Swear thus, and be called dwarf-friend!"
They all swore (some reluctantly!).
"Very well said, young heroes. Come hither and aid Johanna in the library. She seems to have her hands full there. We are both long out of the habit of fighting, and in need of your aid to protect the legacy of clan Melairkyn. As tokens of our immediate thanks, you will find something that can help you cooling by the forge. You have been given a great responsibility this day: Take care that it leads not to ruin. Dumathoin has decreed that I
may not aid you in this, disturb me not until your foes have been vanquished or taste Dumathoin’s wrath."
"We should head for the forge immediately!" said Nandrin.
"We should aid Johanna!" said Venmir.
Most of them agreed with Nandrin, but said nothing.
Up the stairs and across various landings, they found themselves standing in front of a huge golden portcullis. Two rust monsters nibbled on the bars, and a number of disembodied hands clutched at the bars. As the heroes came down the stairs, the hands leapt at them!
There was a furious battle, swift an one-sided, apart from one hand which leapt up and clung to Rodin's face. Before the dwarf could react, Venmir spun on his heel and sent an arrow flying through the hand, but it was so powerful a shot that the arrow went straight through, leaving a huge hold in the dwarf's cheek. He said nothing, but scowled at the cleric.
Nyvan found a switch for the gate and it lifted. Behind was another large room and, after they had killed the second rust monster (it followed the first into oblivion only moments before), they waited to catch their bearings. The sounds of combat came from the north. They set off at a run along a corridor with several doors until they came across two near the end - the first lead to a small empty room, but the second lead to a huge library, fillwed with books, scrolls, tomes and disembodied hands, ripping everything to pieces. A female human mage stood on the far side, flinging spells at the hands. As the party appeared, she begged them for help and once more there was a brief and bloody batch of hand-to-hand combat (pun intended).
When it was all over, she thanked them and asked them to help her tidy up, which they did - apart from Venmir, who pulled out a chair and watched the others - and Rodin, who didn't like books without pictures. They spoke of their quest, but she was little help, explaining she was only there to chronicle the world of the Melairkyn dwarves.
"And you, sir, a city dwarf by the looks of you." she said, approaching Rodin.
"I am no city dwarf!" said Rodin, mortally offended.
"But...you dress like one. And you have a strange choice of facial hair," she added, pointing to his half beard and half head of hair (a remnant of an encounter with an imp months ago).
"NO! I AM A MOUNTAIN DWARF!" he replied angrily.
"I'm so sorry, but you also dress like a city dwarf...in fact, I'd say you're from Baldur's Deep. I mean Gate, Baldur's Gate. Sorry....." she trailed off and blushed.
Rodin blushed and kicked at an imaginary rock on the ground. The rest of the party burst into laughter.
Nandrin soon found a large travelling spellbook and looked at the locking mechanism, which was remarkably similar to the books he used. Before he could do anything, Johanna spoke.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you. There was once three of us - and one opened that particular book, or at least tried to - and it exploded, killing two of my friends!"
"Oh!" replied Nandrin, "I'd best go and open this outside then,"
The others shook their heads, but the mage could not be stopped. He walked out of the room. When he returned a few minutes later, he looked a little pal.
"We might have a problem...."
He explained how the book had opened easily using his keys and some magical prowess. The book, however, had slammed shut after only the first page - and he had realised they were personal memoirs of Khelben Blackstaff (once one of the masked Lords of Waterdeep, husband of Laeral Silverhand, and one of the mightiest mages to have ever lived), then disappeared, leaving only a scroll in his hands. A scroll which read:
"Some secrets are not thine to uncover, and that is why they are hidden in remote places. Have a care to mind thine own business in the future, lest thee annoy me. Remember, thine names are known to me.” Startlingly, the names of the entire group was written on the scroll.
The others raged, but Nandrin took it lightly.
"At least he has his book back now!" said the elf.
Johanna cleared her throat and pointed at the shelf. There sat the book.
Nandrin cleared his throat.
"Anyway, where is the forge, there are gifts there for us? And do you have any stuff that could help us in our quest?"
The heroes followed Johannas instructions, and walked back down the corridor to the forge. There, in the cooling tubs, they each found a small battleaxe charm on a silver necklace. They each put it around their necks, and were surprised to see that the charms phase through their clothes and armour until it rested against their skin.
The party smiled to one another. As ever, the world was a mysterious place and wherever they went, it only got stranger.
No comments:
Post a Comment