Obsidian Sun - D&D 3.5 Campaign Starting

[DM_Bolan]

“I choose Morvian,” Malisce stated flatly.

The day had been full of surprises, but none was greater than the engagement of Malisce to Morvian. That’s right – engagement.

Krendal’s Mart, aka K-Mart was a wonderous place. An enormous store located in Cassandra’s commons. They carried everything a bloke might need for adventuring from the mundane to the mythical. They also had good tailors. The group had reunited at Krendal’s to finalize their selection of clothing for the feast to be held at the temple of Loviatar. Each found a royal expression in the form of a stunning outfit – Baeryc in a gleaming suit of ceremonial armor and a smart looking cloak. Malisce in a a completely un-Malisce like violet gown revealing her to be truly stunning. The others similarly found garments truly royal in fashion. All in all, when the alterations were done, they would be a fine looking bunch.

The rest of the day was spent awaiting the completion of the alterations. It would not due to be dressed in fancy clothes, they would need to fit well to be truly appropriate for an audience of this magnitude. Some used the time to rest or meditate. . Thock, having already selected his outfit had run off to sneak into the wizards guild having a few hours to waste. He managed to sneak his way into a lecture on the finer points of spell craft….

When the time came at dusk to visit the temple to the maiden of pain, the enormity of the task, the danger of it began to set in. They were walking into the temple of an evil power, deliberately unarmed. Holy symbols were to be masked, respect to be shown to Loviatar. The heroes were greeted at the entrance by acolyte Xaxar. She introduced them to the temple, reminding them that without pain, there could be no joy, without death, what value life? The foyer was decorated in paintings depicting the “beneficial” application of pain…. A barbaric method of training warriors, deliberately wounding them to assure they would not falter in battle. In another scene a worshipper kneels on shards or rock while a priest heals him. Other paintings are even more provocative. The acolyte manages to convince the group that their path of light would not be meaningful were it not for those who lived in the pain of darkness.

The temple was magnificent, built of lavish white marble streaked in crimson and black. It was exquisitely furnished and well attended. Our nervous heroes were led to the feast hall. There, they were introduced to Procurate Indamin. The enormous feast hall was filled with priests and acolytes devoted to suffering at the hands of the maiden of pain or bringing pain to those seeking it, voluntarily or otherwise. The banquet had been prepared well, and everyone found a bounty to enjoy. Each of our heroes in turn was given a chance to tell how much pain they had suffered in their recent adventures. There had been a good deal of hero-mangling of late so the stories were vivid. Dexa of course kept the audience busy for a loooooonnnnggggg time.

It was Morvian though who would receive the honor of uttering a blessing for the meal. How fortuitous his prayer must have been…

It was after the feast, and good deal of music and entertainment that the real reason for the visit to the temple became apparent. Events had been set into motion in Faerun that had brought the maiden of pain smack dab into a tug-of-war between the overseer of the gods and his enraged foe, Empress Maligna. How our heroes would be involved was a matter that would require them to prove their commitment to Lovitar, and the ritual of pain was the method. To perform the ceremony, Indamin introduced the high priestess, Loviatar’s proxy, whip-mistress. To their surprise, she was a fair skinned elf. Dressed as she was it seemed out of character. But it appeared that the Loviatar appealed to a wide range of beings.

Each took his turn, choosing to receive either a measure of respect, or a measure of faith, or a measure of love. Those of goodly manner chose a measure of respect, and received three lashes from a whip of long feathers. A symbolic gesture, meant to honor the host of the temple, without incurring the displeasure of their own deity. Those who were of braver spirit chose a measure of faith, and received lashes from the whip mistress using a burlap whip, which stung painfully but caused no real harm. For those that chose the measure of love, it was three lashes with the barbed leather whip – the recipients were left bleeding. Baeryc opted to suffer all three. Of course, the damage was healed, the priests of Loviatar were not unsympathetic.

It was Malisce who went last. She requested the method of the ancients, a more grueling test of pain and endurance, reserved for royalty or the divine. As it turns out, she had a legitimate right to make such a request. It seems that Mistress Malisce, 2nd daughter of House D’Corboral, had become Matron Queen Malisce due to the events unfolding in her realm. The army of a thousand wizards had not been assembled, but they practiced their craft to gruesome effectiveness. Indamin’s information suggested that a permanent portal to one of the lower planes was created through the use of the ancient magic. The expending of such power devastated the region around Millinbrook. The cities of the drow were not spared – thousands had been killed and the landscape had become a tortured wasteland of death. That destruction had left Malisce’s kingdom in shambles, her house through losses had become the highest ranking house. Malisce remained the highest ranking survivor.

The followers or Loviatar believed that to expose oneself to pain and humiliation was to prove your honesty. The method of the ancients followed this practice. Malisce shed her clothing and was secured to the whipping post as the others had, but the whip mistress employed a different torture. Royalty was spared the whip, instead they suffered the shocking effect of a powerful wand. By the third set of shocks, Malisce had torn through the bonds and lie convulsing on the ground, blood leaking from her eyes, ears and nose. It was all our heroes could do to hold back Orodreth who suffered the anguish as if he himself were being struck.

The whip mistress seemed pleased…. “If she lives…. She has passed the test of the ancients.”

And she did live. Barely. Well enough to accept her titles as Matron Queen of Dral Invictus. By custom, the drow queen cannot be unaccompanied. And with that, Malisce chose her husband – Morvian. He was a follower of Shar, he was a wizard, his presence would be unifying with the surface dwellers during this time of crises.

“We shall be wed tomorrow!”

[DM_Bolan]

“I do.”

Morvian stammered slightly as the words echoed in the great hall of the temple.

The bride was dressed in a flowing violent gown, bejeweled as fit for her station. The priests and acolytes, friends and fellow adventurers applauded lightly wishing the new couple well. It was such a scene of joyous union.

Well… except for the fact that it was the temple of Loviatar.

And the bride was a drow queen.

And the marriage was being sanctioned by two priests…. One of Loviatar….. and one of Lathander.

And the inn, where the bride, groom and their companions were staying had been destroyed by red dragons?

This of course had all started when Malisce had chosen Morvian as her husband. She had to have a mate to rightfully claim her throne – matron queen. Her ascension from second daughter of the fourth house, D’Corboral had been swift. An alliance was forming among the faiths – those choosing to uphold the authority of Lord Ao over the gods of Faerun and those choosing to follow the usurper, Empress Maligna, a being so heinous she brings fear to the hearts of Tanar’ri and Aasimon alike. The war of a thousand wizards was coming. They were being gathered, and trained. And one day, they would wreak their havoc upon Faerun. They would invoke the Empress’ ancient magic and form a thousand portals to a thousand evil places. Places where even now, armies of hideous creatures trained, and waited, for centuries, for millennia for that day Maligna would call forth the portals. Then, the dark hordes would pour forth and crush all those who call planet Toril their home. The first demonstration of this great power shattered the Unther region, both above ground and below ground. The portal to Faerun lie under hundreds of feet of rock. Mage Lord Colderan had been a very busy, and very naughty wizard. From all reports, he had fled Cassandra to return to Faerun through the portal in the Drow kingdom. There the magic was unleashed.

The magic is so powerful, it consumed everything. Nothing remains for many days ride in all directions. The land becomes a charred wasteland, stripped of the grass, the trees, the roads, the buildings, everything. The blackened ground is shards of cinder dangerous to even walk upon. Huge stone teeth, some hundreds of feet high, jut from the land at inexplicable angles. Scattered about are smaller formations composed of spear-like fragments fused together by heat resembling giant caltrops. Even the sun shines a sliver of obsidian.

And so the group would set out for Dral Invictus, the city from which Malisce would rule, but not before Morvian and Malisce retired to consummate the marriage. Messages would be sent to Dral Invictus telling of the new queen’s arrival, but there was no way of knowing if they were received. The priests of Loviatar, seeking to aid the alliance against Maligna arranged a plane shift, allowing the party to quickly return to their home plane of existence.

What they found when they arrived sent chills up their spine. Literally. It was cold. Damn cold. The wind whipped so hard it was often difficult to walk over the broken rocky terrain. The traveling was treacherous, the wind was biting cold, and the sun was fading on the horizon. The group quickly ascertained they were within a days walk of the Smoking Mountains. The tops of the blackened peaks were shrouded in gray dust. There perhaps, they would be able to find their way to the Underdark. And that would likely lead them to Colderan. At this point, that @#%@#$@ needs to die was the unanimous decision.

There were little more than sticks and twigs left, and charred remnants at that. After hours of travel, the group decided that the wind was too much and they decided to seek shelter. The best they could do was a rock formation that protected them from the wind and provided a slight overhang that would protect them from the rain. A few times, they spotted two flying creatures – great square-winged beasts. They flew slowly and at great height. It did not appear they were aware of the party, but it meant they slept with no fire, lest they draw the attention.

Tomorrow, they would reach the foothills of the Smoking Mountains. Perhaps from the peaks they would be able to see how far and wide the destruction spread. Perhaps they would locate an entrance to the Underdark. Perhaps they would find survivors of the calamity.

Or perhaps tomorrow, any one of the great evil beings that held enmity towards our heroes would drop in out of the sky, literally or figuratively, intent upon shattering their fragile little lives.

[DM_Bolan]

“His highness politely declines,” stated the unkempt guard at the makeshift gate.

Orodreth turned back towards the group some fifty yards out. He waved and signaled one, as if to say, “one more moment”. The rest of the heroes stood patiently, trying not to alarm dozens of archers perched on the slabs and shards of blackened stone that formed a crude outer wall. Stone slab huts made up the bulk of the makeshift encampment. The steep foothills were spotted with numerous caves serving as additional housing. Women and children in tattered clothing hustled into the caves as the general alarm sounded.

“Look, tell Lord Randall, that it is I Orodreth, faithful priest of Rill,, Lathander. We come with grave news! We must see him immediately!”

“No, no, he was very specific, something about bringing back his hundred year old evil mage-lord great-great-grandfather, then bringing a groundquake that buried Millenbrook, and to top it off, apparently you are responsible in some way for the massive devastation that scars our land? Off you go now, have a good day. Careful in the wasteland, very dangerous….”

Orodreth turned again to the party in the distance, once again signally them to be patient. Patient they were. They patiently prepared spells and range weapons and assessed just how many of those crudely armed archers could hit them. Thock silently shifted closer to the front gate of the crude village. If a fight were to break out, he would be in a prime location to inflict maximum grief….

“Sir, sir, you misunderdand… WE did not bring back Colderan Morn, he was brought back by an evil priestess…. And it was Colderan who caused the earthquake…. Well I mean we did help him kill the Zhentarim usurper….. but seriously we mean you no harm whatsoever, could a priest of Lathander lie in such a fashion….?” Orodreth, sweating profusely poured on the humility and charm.

“OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!! I’m hit, I’m hit, kobold down, kobold down……” shouted Thock from somewhere in the dimly lit scrub. “THEY SHOT ME IN THE BUTT! THEY SHOT ME IN THE BUTT WITH AN ARROW!!!!!”

It was with a great deal of diplomacy, a small amount of embellishment, and a whole lot of adventurer bravado, but Orodreth convinced them to open the gate. And the wet, cold, tired, hungry heroes entered what now, the reformed city of Millenbrook, under the rule of Lord Randall Morn. They were offered a stone hut to spend the night. Eventually, they would meet with the peasant king and discuss the current situation. It had been a long trip.

Adventuring is often exciting, frequently dangerous and sometimes financially rewarding. And then there are times spent traveling great distances across particularly miserable terrain. Our heroes had made their way across the wasteland that had replaced the rolling meadows, virulent forests and majestic hills of Faerûn. Instead, nothing but charred death permeated the horizon. The broken shards of burnt stone jutted at all angles out of the ground. Huge spears of solid rock poked from the landscape as if a god had hurled handfuls of javelins at the land. It was frightfully cold and the rain and wind made everything slick with ice, especially the razor sharp crunch cinders underfoot.

All the while they had been tracked by an arrowhawk, a creature of the plane of air. An intelligent predator, it used a cunning ploy to get the party to lower it’s guard. When it’s true nature was revealed, they of course dispatched it quickly.

The only major feature they had encounted besides the endless vast of treacherous footing was a river. The calamity that had befell this realm had fouled the waters as well. What once must have been a pastoral stream flowing across the fertile plain was nothing but a slowly flowing black sludge. Our heroes had little choice but to cross it to continue their progress towards the Smoking mountains. Having learned their lesson frequently on the hazards of crossing water, they carefully proceeded. Morvian flew those across that he could and Baeryc was brought across with a series of ropes and a safety line.

Another half-day of travel after breaking another rain-soaked, wind-laced camp brought them to the pathetic “city” of Millenbrook. No longer was it a proud mercantile destination for traders or a bastion of learning the ways of the arcane. Now it was little more than a few dozen stone huts and dirty caves. Lord Randall’s army was old men and young boys, with few true soldiers. But they were the survivors. The forces of Empress Maligna were had brought the calamity. Her battle against Lord Ao, and those who abided by his rule had begun. The first assault left a blight upon the land so severe it would never recover. The people, the animals, the plants, everything disintegrated for miles and miles and miles. Those few that had miraculously survived clung to life in this collection of hovels and holes.

Eventually, Lord Randall did agree to see them. They learned there had been no peace since the calamity, day to day life was barely possible. Food was scarce, water even more so. There had been two attacks by dark elves within the last week. The evidence Randall had suggested House Chumvah. The dark elves had left the surface dwellers alone for the most part for hundreds of years. The simple cultures of the humans offered nothing of value to the drow. But the dark elves of house Chumvah were now driven by a greater task, pleasing Kiaransalee and her mistress Maligna.

And so our heroes, as darkness fell upon them in the safety of the city, contemplated a journey to deal the drow of House Chumvah a blow. And perhaps, they would find the entrance to Underdark that would lead Queen Malisce home to Dral Invictus.

[DM_Bolan]

Session 26 & 27 Recap

“You don’t believe they will triumph do you?” The youthful raspy female voice made no judgment on her listener.
An old wizened voice answered, “The outcome of this predicament is surely unknown if that’s what you mean.”
The two figures were standing side by side, enshrouded by the heavens. Their ghostly forms were looking down upon the world intrigued by the progress of a certain band of heroes. The young company of adventurers featured everything from a sorcerer kobold tainted by dragon blood to a drow queen to the son of a demon spawn. Perhaps Lathandar had good reason to be concerned.
“It is odd, strange company this plight brings. Who would have thought the Maiden of Pain would find solace with the Morning Lord?” Loviatar took a small amount of glee in the irony.
“Look, they descend into the Underdark…..”
= = =
The trip from “New Millenbrook” had led our heroes across the twisted wasteland in search of an entrance to the Underdark. There, they hoped to put an end to the drow raiding parties as well as find a way to reach the drow capital of Dral Invictus. Ultimately, with the power of the drow empire at their disposal, they hoped they could track down Colderan the arch-mage. And perhaps all of that would somehow prevent Empress Maligna’s grand plan to marshal an army of a thousand wizards. Wizards, who given the chance, would unleash ancient magic so devastating it would likely ruin the face of Faerun and open permanent portals. It would be the end of days, allowing malevolent denizens to ravage the land unfettered.
That is, if our heroes can make it overland in one piece.
Day after day of travel across the treacherous landscape left them exhausted. Each day brought the wind-whipped black rain that felt more like mud-slush than water. The slick ground composed of layers of shifting blackened shale would give way and send a body tumbling over the razor sharp rocks.
When night would come, they would find a rock overhang, or an outcropping to make a meager camp. Most nights, not even a fire was allowed for fear of drawing the denizens of the wasteland to feed.
They had to negotiate streams of ashen sludge, carefully avoiding a repeat of previous river crossing issues. They used the lad Egan from Millenbrook to spy the signs of the drow. It was difficult, the ground did not lend itself to tracking and the weather made it impossible. There were many missteps. Painstakingly they followed as best they could, traveling over, around and sometimes through the hazards that the calamity had wrought.
About a day after dispatching a large avian predator, they approached an enormous rift in the land. Make no mistake, the cataclysm had scarred the land through and through, but this was more than just damage. This was a wound to the land. It spanned a mile across in places, and stretched in both directions a few miles. It disappeared into the murky darkness, the crumbling cliff faces inviting disaster.
How could the gods of Toril allow this? How could such a force be allowed to rend the earth like a great claw? Like a jagged cut that refuses to close. The soul of the world was callously and violently laid open in some brutal celestial rage.
While navigating around the rift, Thock spotted a family of refugees trudging across the wastes. After some initial trepidation, and nearly fatal misunderstanding, they approached and shared what information they could about the drow.
Like others in the region, their town was flattened by the cataclysm. All sources of water and food were decimated, leaving the inhabitants to wander as a group. The hazards of life in the wastes chewed away at their numbers, and then the drow came and finished the job. Through luck, Rolf and his family had been away from the camp when the drow raid occurred. They fled aimlessly across the plain.
With a storm coming, the group found shelter in a cave at the edge of the rift. It was one of the nicer shelters they had enjoyed. The rain came down in sheets, punctuated by the exaggerated echoes of thunder in the rift. With a guard watch set, the party settled in for the night. It was during second watch that Egan, the boy from Millenbrook woke Dexa to inform her that Rolf had gone off to investigate a signal light some time ago but had not returned.
Rightfully sensing danger, the group braved the storm, prepared for conflict. The glowing green light that Rolf had followed was apparently a signal requesting aid. Eventually, the source of the light was proven to be a will-o-wisp. The spongy creature of energy maliciously led Rolf and the party into quicksand. Had it not been for Morvian’s quick thinking (and darn good luck) the wisp might have enjoyed consuming each of our heroes one by one.
The group agreed at day break that Egan should lead Rolf and his family back to New Millenbrook. At least there, they would have a chance to live among a community, such as it is. Egan and the others headed north while our heroes headed southeast towards the home of the drow.
The next day brought a series of difficult obstacles. The group painstakingly searched, assuring they were still following the drow tracks. Signs of a large body of armed troops were everywhere – almost too many to follow. Ultimately, the tracks ended at another rift in the ground. This one, much smaller, had a rope staked at the top to allow a person to descend. There, at the bottom, stood several buildings, and a stone entrance to the mountain.
The descent proved brutal. Dexa and Morvian were seriously hurt and it was found that the rope was rigged to fail. Cleverly, Thock observed a rope ladder concealed from view. The trapped rope was meant to lure the unwary while the drow used the sturdier ladder.
The first building housed several sarcophagi. They showed signs of being ransacked already. In fact the building seemed to have been used as a waystation for travelers before. The second building proved far more interesting.
It had been sealed unlike the first building. The party would do what they could to get in, finally breaking the seals to find an undisturbed tomb. They left it well enough alone, fearing that it was the lair of a vampire. It was, but the undead monstrosity didn’t attack until after midnight. A pitched battle ensued, but it ended quite suddenly. The party had vanquished the vampire Chahir.
After resting for the rest of the night, our heroes breached the mountain entrance to find five dead drow elves.
At the sight of five of her own realm slaughtered, Malisce swore an epithet against House Chumvah. With her shortsword drawn, she lead the way deeper into the mountain crypt.

[DM_Bolan]

“What you suggest would be TREASON!” shouted matron Liolanthalese. The venerable drow woman had a portly visage, but it in no way diminished the respect she commanded. Here in the halls of council, the elders of Dral Invictus argued passionately over what course of action, the drow empire should take.

The council had gathered and first to speak was House Ezzelhoun representing the mercantile elements of the domain of the drow. “This so-called queen is an accused murderer, and has fled her own realm. House Ezzelhoun calls for Nax C'narza, the right to select a rightful new ruler! Let a new matron queen be selected!”

“The Queen will arrive soon, there is no reason we should rush our action. What we need to do is make preparations for the things we know will be obviously needed when Matron Queen Malisce arrives. For instance, regardless of whether we attack the remaining surface dwellers, or negotiate with them, we will need scout teams to lead the way, we should have those prepared.” This came from the only male among the six, a lanky dark elf with angular facial features and narrow eyes. “The threat of the thousand wizards, I believe is now diminished…. They will not be able, or willing to mount another calamity again for some time.”

Again House Ezzelhoun sounded the call for Nax C'narza. “While we sit idly by, our coffers empty of wealth. This calamity is bleeding the empire dry. Without trade routes and no willing trade partners, you must think in terms of resolving our economic concerns. We cannot sit idly by while opportunities slip away!”

Mir ‘Elena, a young drow woman with fire in her eyes and poison in her voice stood and demanded the council’s attention. “It is not YOU who have lost your path to Lolth. It is not you who have wounds among your people that cannot be healed. You do not have to endure the pathetic anguish of those among us who have lost faith. They bicker, they suffer and sooner or later they will tolerate it no longer. The time to act is now. MY PEOPLE SUFFER.”

“Mir ‘Elena, calm down….” cooed cool young male voice presiding over the debate.

“I will not calm down. There has been a vision, and now is the time to act. Times are changing. The army of a thousand wizards has wrought great calamity. This is the time to make our own changes. Too long have we allowed the surface dwellers to multiply and prosper and become the target of this calamity. Pool our resources together, a unified force, and travel to the surface, and exterminate all who stand before us. Whether you choose a new queen, or not she should rule from the bottom of Dral Invictus to the top of the Smoking Mountains!”

For a long time, thunderous applause drowned out any attempt to quell the thousands who watched the proceedings from the arena. The next speaker could only proceed when the roar had subsided of it’s own. Liolanthalese, representing the Auzkovyn Clans spoke next,

“Mir 'Elena is right about one thing. We need to work as one if we are to face this threat. However, as any true general would know, it is not wise to pick a fight on multiple fronts. We are in turmoil, our people are splintered and fragmented. This is not the time for rash actions. We need to consolidate our empire, and to do this, we must find our queen. A new queen is not the answer, a new queen will fracture the houses even more.”

She continued in earnest “We need to find our queen, and allow her the chance to speak for her actions, and base our decision on that, so that we can make this critical decision united as a people. We need to face the surface dwellers, yes! But not to destroy them. We need to lead them, we need to unite Faerun UNDER US! We need to lead the way, show the world we are the chosen people!”

And those that had been silent during the last ovation suddenly found their voice in strong applause in support of the Auzkovyn. Though they are not part of Dral Invictus proper, the nomadic (and even surface dwelling) Auzkovyn swore fealty to the queen.

House Xandovaul was called upon next representing the houses of scholars, scribes and sages. It was Mistress Xarin’va who stunned and silenced the arena.

“These are all fine words you have heard. Words of courage.... optimism, bravery..... But you are all fools. You are fools to believe that we can affect this. We have seen the power of the army of a thousand wizards. It has devastated the land far and wide. Left thousands dead. What if they do that again? Do you think it coincidence that Lolth does not answer your prayers?"

It is Xarin’va whos suggests the unthinkable – disavowing the queen entirely, and joining the grand empire. The grand drow empire much larger than Dral Invictus. And they are far less tolerant of other races and cultures. It has been 200 years since Dral Invictus split from Dral Castigax. Cast out as liberals and weak, the houses of Dral Invictus sought no plunder from the surface dwellers.

Represented by Allevrah, It was Malisce’s own house, D’Corboral that made an impassioned plea on her behalf. “Honorable Kindred. I have heard your pleas and believe you make strong points. I speak on behalf of the queen as she herself cannot be here today. Our scouts and diviners however say she is making fast progress, as such I feel it would be foolish not to wait for her. But immediate action is required and House D'Corboral will lead the way!”

“We gain nothing stealing from the destitute refuges above ground. They serve as fodder should the wizards return. It is the followers of Kiaransalee who wrought this peril, it is the army of wizards who choose to destroy all the world. They have opened portals to horrible places and even now who knows what could be coming for us? Preparations for defense should be made while the queen is en route to us to claim her rightful place!”

And as some five thousand drow citizens shouted, chanted and argued, pandemonium ensued. Calling for order, and for a vote, there was no clear direction.

The crypts had yielded nothing but trouble so far. The kobold, Thock had gotten himself in trouble at every turn. It was all Orodreth could do to keep the little bugger out of every sarcophagi they passed. The entrance to the crypts revealed several dead drow of House Morcane – loyal to Dral Invictus. It was unclear who had killed them but it was by martial weapon.

Despite being well seasoned adventurers, our heroes demonstrated a decided lack of common sense. Bursting into a tomb, they were set upon by celestial dire lions. That not being enough to satisfy, they busted into a sealed tomb and found far more than they bargained for.

The tomb contained a statue. Thock, being of sound body but not mind, couldn’t leave the statue well enough alone. It finally came to life and assaulted him, well, vigorously. But a dark force even more powerful was yet lurking, and the ghost of Lady Quallem unleashed a flurry of attacks from beyond.

The group suffered grievous wounds, and were unable to kill the ghost. But they did manage to drive her away. Wisely, they left the connected crypts alone, seeking to focus on finding the source of the dark elf raids, plaguing the refugees. Several of the group had been driven away by fear emanating from Lady Quallem, and they stumbled upon a stairway leading down, deeper into the mountain side.

Here there were the graves of commoners, stacked in groups of niches carved from the cavern walls. Dexanis once again intrigued by the graves foolhardily investigated without proper precautions, releasing clouds of toxic mold spores. The effect was nearly enough to kill her. The battles had left our heroes depleted and exhausted.

Retracing their steps, they holed up in the empty chambers they had passed on the way in. A frightful rest was had until voices and footsteps in the halls beyond snapped the sentries to attention. Carefully spying through an door, they learned it was more drow moving about in the hallway. As it turns out, they were clearing the bodies of House Morcane.

Concluding their rest, they pressed deeper into the lower level of the crypts. They negotiated their way past a guardian roper, who fortunately took the word of Malisce they had permission to be there. And that’s when they found the invisible passageway….

[DM_Bolan]

Sorry for the delay in getting this posted

Session 30/31/32 Recap

The twin blades simultaneously pierced clean through the dark elf’s thorax, the gleaming points protruding. With glee, the assailant withdrew the blades, smiled to himself thinking “What a fine job I’ve done….”

Then Haldrin looked up from the Drow corpse, and into the angry gaze of the matron queen of the Drow Empire. Looking up meekly, all the rogue could stammer was “uh, sorry?”

“Sorry indeed…..” the queen hissed. Flanked on either side by Dexanis and Orodreth, Malisce began the interrogation. “Who are you…. How did you come to this place… and what business do you have taking the life of a drow?”

Haldrin looked around the dark cavern. He was surrounded by well armed, and apparently angry adventurers. “Uh, my name is Haldrin, I um, only sought to prove my worth to you… I’ve traveled long across the ruined landscape of my home… say…. Um, is that food? It’s been a fair time since I’ve had a bit to eat…..”

Adameth was none too pleased to see another tiefling. It was awfully convenient that this one had popped up in the Dodrien Crypts, seemingly out of nowhere. The “scout” had an answer for everything….

He had come to track the party while crossing the vast wasteland. All landmarks destroyed, he wandered aimlessly for a few weeks. Then, found the track of drow patrols. Eventually, they led to the Dodrien crypts. Joining up with the drow wasn’t appealing, but running from the predators of the wasteland could only work so long.

But as fate would have it, the tracks of the drow were not the only ones – tracking Dexa was quite easy. One merely followed the trail of bodies.

There had been a party of dead drow near the entrance the crypts, but they fell at the hands of the followers of Kiaransalee. Drow killing drow… what was the world coming to? The path of destruction stopped next at a curious room of tombs. Magical wards had surprised our heroes, summoning dire lions to defend the tombs. While Dexa and the others valiantly battled, Haldrin had been wise enough, being by himself, to just shut the door and move on.

“Oh, then you saw the broken statue?” Dexa began…. “I like statues, especially big ones with fancy carvings, that makes it spooky…. But it was already spooky because of the ghost. OH you didn’t see the ghost…? It was the ghost of Lady Quallem…. I don’t know why they call her lady, she wasn’t very nice to us. She touched us and it made us all cold and weak, and some of us ran away and hid like little girls….. did I mention when I was a little girl, there was an evil sorcerer….”

Haldrin looked up in disbelief and Dexa droned on and on before she was gently reminded that silence spells were readily available. She finally concluded her story explaining how the group had smashed the statue, and driven off the ghost. When they finally found Thock and Orodreth, they had run deeper into the crypts, down a stairway and into the caverns where the common folk were interred in open graves.

Haldrin snickered, the graves hadn’t bothered him, he’d left them well enough alone once he discovered they were covered in deadly yellow mold. “Oh yes,” Morvian quipped, “Dexa quickly detected that mold for us….”

“How did you get past the roper? It had been trained to allow Drow to pass?” The group was interested in Haldrin’s skill – he sheepishly admitted he had waited until the roper was moving about looking for food and then made his way beyond. Somehow, he had missed the illusory walls leading to the banished drow party.

Not realizing that some survivors of house Morcane were holed up – the party investigated the illusory walls, only to find denizens of the underdark protecting the way. First, it was the driders, those tortured, insane half-spider creatures the drow bred. They put up a stout fight before falling. Next came the araneas – ghastly spiders capable of devouring the party. And then the surprise, drow guards loyal to the queen. The last of house Morcane, the only survivors.

House Morcane had been crushed by usurpers of House Chum-Vah. Led by Dorina T’Sarran, followers of the upstart deity Kiaransalee have killed, captured, or converted all of the members of House Morcane. Now she holds Szith Morcane and launches raids against the already devastated surface-dwellers. The four members of house Morcane were sent to the surface to aid Lord Randall and his refugee subjects. After resting, our heroes pressed onward, deeper into the crypts.

They dispatched a clever doppelganger, who had been feasting on whatever solitary beings it could find. Moving south, they met their first resistance from the members of House Chum-Vah.

The battle with two drow and a wraith spider was punctuated by the arrival of Haldrin. He was met with some skepticism, having snuck by the party and into the fray without their knowledge. But there was no question he was skilled. They dispatched the guards and began a descent to the lowest levels of the crypts.

When they reached the end of the tunnel, they found another hole leading down – but curiously, also found a smooth, magically formed stone wall. Muted voices from behind the wall ultimately led Dexanis to smash through the wall. When nothing was found beyond the rubble, they moved further to investigate.

They were accosted by two driders and Dexa immediately charged into battle – only to learn too late of a concealed pit! More illusory magic! The fall and the spikes nearly killed her outright while the driders reveled in the tactical victory – the strongest foe now lie bleeding sixty feet down in a pit. They held their ground peppering the group with spells and our heroes nearly fell in battle!

With the driders dispatched, Dexa returned to the surface, the party was about to rest and recuperate again when Thock’s observant nature notice Haldrin had an unusual jingly bulge…. He had found some loot and was holding out!

While the group argued what to do about it, they were set upon by gigantic spiders. Worn out, wounded, out of spells, they now face the toughest of their foes yet.

[DM_Bolan]

Dexa screamed, “Oh my god, he’s dead!”

Haldrin’s motionless, bloody form lie in a heap at the bottom of the rough hewn shaft that lead from the crypt level into Szith Morcane proper. His chest revealing a gaping V-shaped gash, blood pouring forth. A glaive-wielding drow sentry had just withdrawn his weapon and was preparing for another strike Beside him, the skinless muscled caustic cleric of Kiaransalee, a Quth-Maren locked his gaze upon Dexanis. An overwhelming wave of fear crushed her to her knees, she lie. screaming from her prone position, She was watching the life drain from Haldrin and could do nothing about it.

The situation was grim, the first ones down the shaft had already been incapacitated. The drow sentries of Szith Morcane, now under the control of followers of Kiaransalee, were well trained, well prepared, and aware our heroes were about to breach the outer defenses of the outpost. It was as if there had been some warning about their arrival.

Indeed, the combat had been fierce since they had entered the Dodrien Crypts. They had finally reached the entrance to the underdark only to find, among other things, driders, spiders, and drow barring the way. Each fight took it’s toll on our heroes. Just as they thought rest would coming, two hungry huge spiders made one last foray against them. After Dexa dispatched the arachnids, they were able to secure the area and heal. Exhausted, they slept warily.

They should have seen the tell-tale sign – bits of webbing that appeared on the floor overnight. Someone had been there… for what purpose? Events after a breakfast of rations had everyone distracted. Malisce and Morvian had been studying something magical in nature and abruptly announced that they needed to “test” something. Warning everyone else to stay back, they vanished down the hall and within moments there erupted a tremendous explosion. The force knocked those standing to their knees while the blue-white flash nearly blinded them. When the thunderous roar had subsided, there was no answer from the married wizards.

Gingerly, the group crept closer. Malisce and Morvian lie motionless, encased in a sort of blue energy. Dexa shouted “oh my god, they are dead!.”

Spellcraft revealed the energy to be a form of mage armor. Attempts to penetrate the energy were painfully rebuffed. For several minutes, it was feared the wizards had prematurely expired. Dexanis hypothesized their deaths were the result of mating rituals gone horribly awry. Morvian awoke first, stunned and confused. Malisce awoke several minutes later, equally dazed. Dexanis was not about to let the incident go without explanation. She demanded answers.

It seems, that while in the temple of Loviatar in Cassandra, Malisce had been given several scrolls. These scrolls were bits of ancient, other-worldy magic. The variety used by the army of a thousand wizards. The sort of power used to decimate the landscape for hundreds of miles. It was the sort of power, that Kiaransalee, and her overlord, Empress Maligna, hoped to unleash on Faerun.

The scroll required wizards who had this other-worldy power. Some born in Faerun had it innately, others from other realms had it as well. It was fate that brought the Matron Queen of the Drow together with the powerful mage from Rockingham. It was Malisce’s visit to the Temple of Loviatar, and the ritual of pain that she and other had endured, that brought trust from the followers of Loviatar. And that trust, had brought them the scrolls of power.

One of those scrolls had just been tested…. And remarkably, Malisce and Morvian appeared to have survived.

The blue fire coursed around their body. Dexa took a sword to Morvian but couldn’t harm him. They seemed virtually invulnerable. They packed up their gear and cleared the rest of the caves – finding them empty of additional monsters. Then they turned their attention to the hole leading down into Szith Morcane.

The outpost of house Morcane was in reality now controlled by the upstart House Chum-Vah. They had seemingly broken from the empire, and sanity, and were sowing the seeds of civil war among the houses. They were also raiding the survivors of the calamity living on the surface. And right now, they were carving up heroes pretty nicely.

Malisce led the next group down the hole. Skilled at climbing, and bristling with magical energy, she landed softly. Unfortunately, that sinking feeling she experienced while descending was her ancient lore mage armor being cancelled by the drow defenses. At that precise moment, a drow senty with a glaive reminded her that event a queen bleeds.

The battle was lost. At least until Morvian, dove down the hole and invoked powerful enchantments, leaving the drow confused and attacking each other. It was Orodreth’s quick thinking and unwavering devotion to Lathandar that allowed him to save Haldrin. Invoking the power of his god, he miraculously closed Haldrin’s ghastly wounds.

Haldrin stood up triumphantly, whirled and plunged his sword into the drow officer before him.

There are certain decisions, that you realize are wrong the moment you make them. Haldrin had just such a moment. The action slowed in his mind, every heartbeat frozen in time. He executed the maneuver just as he practiced a thousand times. And his blades were sharp, his aim was true. The fire of victory coursed through his veins as he plunged his weapons home.

And then he realized, that drow warrioress was now really, really angry at him. Within that frozen heartbeat following his own attacks, he saw the double bladed sword whirl, in fact heard it whistle through the air before impaling him. There was a disgusting cracking noise as the drow thrust the blade home, twisted and withdrew it so swiftly Haldrin stood on his feet for a moment before he crashed to the floor.

“Oh my god he’s dead” shouted Dexa.

Orodreth flashed back sternly “WOULD YOU STOP SAYING THAT!”

And indeed, as vicious as the wounds were, the power of Lathander came to his aid one more time, leaving Orodreth gasping for air, overwhelmed by the outpouring of faith. It had consumed him. Haldrin yet lived.

With confusion affecting the drow they began attacking each othere. Baeryc and Dexa finally got their swords engaged to the fight and the battle was turned. Eventually, they finished off the drow warrioress. She shouted a warning to unseen allies as she expired.

Exploring the cave, our heroes came face to face with an obstacle they had never expected. They found themselves standing at the edge of an enormous chasm – the only method of transport to climb down the spun webs of a really, really big spider. A thousand feet below, the sound of water rushing echoed through the chasm.

Haldrin stammered…. “There is something wrong with my eyes…”

[DM_Bolan]

Sesssion 34 Recap (1)

“You, the one called Baeryc, you are under arrest!”

With those simple words, the manacles clicked shut and Baeryc found himself helpless. All around him the signs of battle were clear. The bounty hunters of Rockingham couldn’t have picked a better time to execute their plan.

“Nobody moves, or he dies, right here, right now!” The leader called out. He called himself Dale Rucker, but who knows what truth he or his companions, Amras and Tabris, have actually told. Tabris claimed to be a monk of good intentions, but anyone can put on a robe and pretend to meditate. And Amras, another shady character, claiming to be a “scout”. Well, all three looked disreputable from the moment they arrived.

At the time, it seemed innocuous enough. They claimed they were refugees of the ruined forests of the land. They had followed signs of other refugees to New Millenbrook. There, Lord Randall Morn himself was said to have informed them of our heroes. Indeed, he steered the newcomers to the wasteland where the drow were launching their raids.

The trip overland was difficult but the skilled trackers picked up the party’s trail meeting up with a drow patrol. Surprisingly, the dark elves of House Morcane were not aggressive, indeed, they were under orders from the queen. They were on their way to New Millinbrook in order to provide assistance against the next presumed attack by House Chum-Vah.

The charred landscape, now referred to as the black ash plain was a sight almost unbearable for the rangers. Huge shards of stone, hundreds of feet long, pierced the blackened landscape like spears thrown from the heavens. A thick layer of razor sharp crunchy ash covered the scorched surface of the land. Black bogs of quickmud lie beneath the thin layers of soot. The travel was grueling, the muddy raindrop pelting them for hours on end. It was with great relief they found where the fugitives had gone.

The crypts of Dodrien were cleared of foul beasts, and efficiently by all indications. The bounty hunters began to suspect their quarry had risen to significant power. Still, no plan was cast in action that could not be withdrawn, they pressed on finally reaching a vertical shaft leading even deeper into the underdark. There, they heard the sounds of battle, the heroes of Cassandra, the fugitives of Rockingham were engaging dark elves in lethal combat.

When the battle had subsided, they made their introductions to the group. They put into motion the grand scheme – infiltrate the group, and await a chance to isolate one or two of the fugitives. Knowing how intensely loyal they would be to each other, there was no doubt the others would come. With the first fugitive serving as a temporary hostage, the others would have no choice but to capitulate. They would have to return to Rockingham.

After some initial mistrust, they were eventually welcomed into the group. Immediately, they set off to probe deeper into the outpost of Szith Morcane. The entry chamber had been well defended. Traps, followed by a physical barrier – the shaft, which itself had magic cancelling effects. Once at the bottom, one of the hideous undead, the Quth-Maren, followed by drow sentries and a drow officer defended the guard post to the death – calling out the alarm to their comrades.

They faced a difficult physical endeavor – the chasm was covered with a web of huge this strands. They were as thick as a man’s leg and stretched into the darkness vertically. It was obvious, the drow ascended and descended using these webs – but to where? It was Baeryc that took the lead trying, climbing down the webs. Even as he did, the party spotted a gargantuan spider. They tried various methods to provoke the beast. Amras, always prone to think the best of animals diligently tried to coax the spider to a friendly disposition, to most humorous results, but it wouldn’t move until someone got on the webs. That someone was Baeryc.

The fight that ensued was brief and savage. The spider was drawn to Morvian who had taken flight in the cave. At one point, Morvian was anchored at the end of the spiders web as it tried to pull him in. Only Thocks blast with a wand gave Morvian a chance to escape. The new found allies discovered they had a potent range assault capability. Each of them was highly skilled with a bow, and the loosed wave after deadly wave of arrows against the spider.

Alas, it was Thock who drew the ire of the spider when Morvian broke away. With a horrible ::CRUNCH:: Thock was impaled upon the proboscis of the enormous arachnid. His small body was waved about like a rag doll before being thrown to the ground in a bloody crumpled heap. He lie motionless as the last wave of arrows fell the spider. The party scrambled to pull Baeryc, entangled in the webs, back to the safety of the ledge.

It was then Morvian observed another cave entrance farther down the web. It was a good thing too… no one looked forward to climbing, or falling, the thousand feet to the water below. With jagged walls to assure death, any visible way out of this web was welcome. Then he continued his investigation flying further south. He was out of ear shot when the next fracas broke out.

Indeed, the situation was grim. Orodreth begged the group to rest, being depleted of spells. Thock was unable to move, stricken by the spiders poison. Dexa was strangely quiet, seemingly stunned by the enormity of the spider, Everyone was hurt, (except for the newcomes) and Morvian was off … somewhere….

What better time to seize the moment. And they did. Taking Baeryc and getting him manacled before Dexa could even react (it was like she wasn’t even there). With Amras and Tabris flanking him for defense, Dale reiterated his threat…. “Surrender the fugitives now! The reward is good dead or alive!”

Orodreth stepped forward…. “Perhaps I can be of some assistance….”

[DM_Bolan]

Session 34 Recap (2)

Thock lay in a deep, peaceful slumber. He dreamt of home, visions of small kobold homes carved into the mud around the sweet smelling swamp bog. Ravenous willow trees lean into the murky waters as if they were looking for something to eat. A small skiff navigates across the scene. Two kobolds share a picnic basket of dried meats and green cheese. The two lovebirds look content as as they drift towards shore.

Thock's ears filled with the sound of water whooshing by suddenly. Wait, that wasn't water. What was that smell?

And then he heard the alarm. "FIREBALL!"

And that peaceful scene that has been filling his mind was filled with an image of the kobold kipping up, dodging, and then tumbling expertly through the doorway out of harm's reach! His mind filled with that image, unfortunately, his body remembered the powerful draining attacks he had suffered, rendering him weak and incapacitated. Orodreth had promised to fully restore him in the morning, but the good cleric had exhausted his magic for the day.

A second whoosh fully woke Thock, and he could see the others spread out around the guard post room. They had taken and held the guard post against several waves of Chum-Vah drow. Exhausted, they had secured the guard room as best they could and settled in for a rest. Little did they know, the Chum-Vah walked among them.

With the aid of silencing magic, two of the drow had climbed the web from the lower level and positioned themselves inside the guard post. There, they released their foul magic, two explosive spheres of flaming death.

Thock heard and felt the impact, but then, all he felt was peace. The girl from his dream stood at the end of a great white tunnel.

===

The twin fireballs couldn't have been placed any better - total surprise even with alert sentries watching for them. These drow were well practiced in the art of stealth. The explosions ripped through the chamber as the drow shouted praise to Kiaransalee. Their glee was short lived - a hail of arrows and spells pinned the drow against the back wall until Dexa and Baeryc cut them down.

This had been a tumultuous beginning to the assault on the former outpost, Szith Morcane. House Chum-Vah now controlled it, turning the drow of house Morcane into followers of Kiaransalee and killing those who refused. Having breached the perimeter, it came as a complete surprise to our heroes that a group of armed bounty hunters had been following.

The group, Tabris, Dale and Amras, claimed to have been refugees - the calamity stripping the rangers of their hallowed lands, and the monk of his monastery. It was Lord Randall Morn who told them of great adventurers, who had set upon the task of stopping the drow raids which twice now had taken their toll on the innocent refugees of New Millenbrook.

Once taken in by the group, they had sprung an ambush while Morvian was scouting, Thock was disabled, and they were exhausted of magic. Seizing Baeryc hostage, they demanded the surrender of the fugitives of Rockingham. It was Orodreth who tried to soothe the situation.

"Listen my friend.... understand that we are part of something much larger than the petty indescretions for which for which you seek these "fugitives". There is evil afoot - a powerful evil. A summoning of an army, some one-thousand wizards. They seek to invoke the ancient magic, that which wrought the calamity you have already seen."

The more questions Dale asked, the more concerned he became that the authorities in Rockingham were not to be trusted themselves. It seemed petty crimes against the wrong person could get a person banished. In some cases, it seemed they sought to push out those with unpopular opinions. True justice, seemed unlikely. So he compromised....

"We shall see your task through to it's end, and then we shall return to Rockingham post haste." And that was that. They released Baeryc, let Dexa hug everyone and tell her life story.

===

When Morvian eventually returned, he was accompanied by a strange creature named Larala. She was originally a dark elf, but now, seemingly evolved into something more dark and sinister. In her creepy hiss of a voice, she explained how Lolth no longer whispered to her, how the dark elves of Chum-Vah had ruined everything. She had spent her time preying on Chum-Vah and praying to the spider queen. She swore loyalty Malisce but too many of our heroes could not fathom an evil creature walking among them. They mercilessly dispatched her, sending her plunging down the chasm to her death.

===

Thock floated down the white tunnel and reached out in the misty moonlight. He pulled the girl close and planted a long wet kiss on her. "I can't live without you" he swooned.

The scene suddenly shifted, he was being violently shaken and rudely slapped.

"OF COURSE you can't live without me fool, I just healed you!" Orodreth protested, "And whats the big idea kissing me, thats gross! Ick, I've been kissed by a kobold!"

And so, by the by, Thock lived (barely) and our heroes formulated a plan to breach the next level of Szith Morcane...

"You're doing what? A wall of goodness? What is that sunshine and buttercups spring up in the hallway there or what?"

And with the sunshine and buttercups in place, they scrambled down the enormous web and fell upon the drow waiting for them.