Session 23. - On The Trail
General Summary
8th of Icegrip, 1440 A.P.
Thunder boomed loudly overhead, rattling the inn's windows and waking Angrar from their slumber with a start. He looked out his window at the iron grey sky and watched as heavy drops of rain began to steadily fall across town and sighed dejectedly at the prospect of having to continue the search for Lady Vera in the cold and wet. He trudged downstairs to wait for the others in the dining room while the rumbling thunder punctuated his mood.
He opened the dining room door, hoping to have a cup of kafa and some peace and quiet to collect his thoughts before the inevitable bickering match between Oorr and Arbor began, but was surprised to see that he wasn't the first to rise. In fact, only Suljurn and Oorr remained in bed. The rest of the party was equally sullen and subdued. Even Deadeye, who was usually the most cheerful and optimistic of the group seemed like a washed-out shadow of his former self.
Suljurn and Oorr entered shortly after Angrar, just as the innkeeper was hastily providing the usual trenchers of bacon, eggs and fresh bread as well as spicy wild mushroom soup that (to Angrar at least) seemed like an odd breakfast choice but smelled delicious nonetheless. Despite the enticing smells and flavours, the food did little to rouse the mood of the group. Urith ate mechanically as everyone quietly discussed their next moves.
Oorr was adamant that they had to "rescue the princess" even if she was in another castle. The others instinctively started to argue with him thinking it was another one of his harebrained ideas. It wasn't until they realised that the princess he was referring to was Vera, that they got on board with his idea, but even knowing that, they had no idea exactly what castle he was referring to. Suljurn suggested they go back to where they'd found the handkerchief the night before and search there. While no one disagreed, Urith and Deadeye both said that the rain would have likely obscured any remaining evidence and as best they could tell, the trail led back to the old stump anyways.
Arbor felt that Vera was mixed up in the sword affair and theyd find her when they found the sword. To that end, he suggested going to Shadymist Cove as that's the last place it had reportedly been seen. The others didn't disagree that Vera was more involved in things somehow but Angrar was against making the trip to Shadymist without more evidence, he felt it was a long trip with very little chance of success. Instead he wanted to go back to talk to the priest and the young boy to see if they had anything further to tell. They continued to discuss their options with no real solution in sight and just as Oorr was about to make one of his impulsive caveat decisions, there was a hasty knock on the door.
They opened it to see the innkeeper with an uncomfortable look on his face. He stepped aside to reveal a sodden and winded Brother Hermes with an equally distraught look on his face. They ushered the priest into the room and offered him some food but the distraught priest declined and just started babbling, saying, "He's.... gone.... The child...." before breaking down into tears.
There was some initial confusion with the party assuming that someone or something had kidnapped the boy, Timon, but they soon realised that the priest meant that Timon had died. Oorr, not quite sure who Timon was as he'd spent the last day or so in bed fighting off spider poison, immediately and emphatically said they would avenge his death! The others glared at him, silently imploring him to dial down his enthusiasm but he was oblivious to their desires. The priest's face registered some level of confusion at the impulsive faun's declaration but in his distraught state, he wasn't able to deal with it and so ignored the outburst - probably for the best.
They calmed Brother Hermes as best they could and sat him by the fireplace to warm up and dry off as he was soaked through from the storm. Once he was calmer, he explained what had happened after they'd left the church. Hermes said that it took some time to calm Timon down. He'd kept ranting about something seeing him... or coming for him... Hermes had said that he was safe , nothing would get him and Helos would protect him even in the dark. Brother Hermes thought it was just the overwrought fears of a shocked child and once Timon had settled, he'd left. He said he'd checked on him some time before retiring for the evening himself and the child had been sleeping soundly. When he went to check on him in the morning however, he found him dead, with a gruesome expression of pain or fear frozen on his face.
At that moment, he sort of remembered something and said, "I... I found this clutched in h.. his... hand. He must have got up in the night." He handed them a rumpled and soggy piece of parchment that they delicately had to unroll for fear of wrecking it. When they opened it, they saw a rough image of a disembodied claw reaching down from the sky towards a building or town.
They weren't quite sure what to make of Brother Hermes' tale, but Arbor suggested that they go and take a look at the body to see if they could discover any other clues. The priest was agreeable and after Suljurn and Urith stuffed the last few rashers of bacon in their mouths, they headed off into the rain to the church. The rain was persistent and cold and even in the brief span it took to walk from the inn to the church, they were all dripping wet, miserable and soon glad to be back indoors.
After shaking off the excess water and creating unseemly puddles in the vestibule, they followed Hermes back to the dormitory and to Timon's room. When they entered, the room was very much unchanged from when they'd been there last. Other than the blanket covering the body in the cot, the only other thing in the room that seemed disturbed was the small desk with several scraps of paper and charoal sticks on it. Angrar gave it a cursory once over, but didn't see anything more than a few crumpled sheets of parchment with half-finished images that resembled the one that Brother Hermes had given them.
He then joined the others as they inspected the body. Oorr was in the forefront searching the body and surround cot, as he was ostensibly, "that type of rogue". Arbor joined him, and while Oorr collected mundane evidence, Arbor searched for any Arcane clues or residues.
After a few minutes, Oorr determined that the boy was indeed dead, but there wasn't much more that he could glean from the body. Before the others started mocking Oorr's so called vaunted abilities, Arbor chimed in with the results of his own inspection. Sadly, he was unable to detect any arcane interference. The best that either of them could determine was that the boy had been frightened to death, as evidenced by the fearful rictus grin on his face.
With little more they could do, they thanked the priest and prepared to leave but before they did, Oorr stepped out into the Temple proper and made a donation of several coin purses filled with heavy coin. The others were initially shocked by his generosity but once they got outside, he enlightened them saying that he had to get rid of some copper as his belt was falling down with the weight. They rolled their eyes at him, but he doubled down and said, it was affecting the draw on my blade. To which he drew his sword to show them, saying "See! Its almost a whole heartbeat faster now!". He quickly realised that they others had made their way back to the inn and he was standing in the rain by himself talking to empty air. He hastily sheathed his blade and trotted quickly to catch up.
At the inn, they changed into some drier clothes and made some decisions about their next moves. Someone suggested talking to Lord Davram but Arbor pointed out that they really hadn't learned anything more since the last time they'd spoken with him so they tabled that idea for the time being. After weighing all their options, they decided that heading back to the tree stump and underground chapel was likely the best clue they had.
They weren't looking forward to trudging through the forest in the wet and muck, but resolved that they didn't really have much choice and just got on with it without too much complaint... after all, it was still the beginning of Icegrip (or Jhanv as the elves called it). If they'd still been in the north this likely would have been a freezing blizzard instead of a shower. Even Urith wasn't stupid enough to say he missed that.
After so many trips into the forest, they'd become fairly adept at getting there and had managed to shave off an hour or so of their journey. Thankfully by the time they got to the woods, the rain had lessened to a heavy drizzle and it almost lay as a mist across the trail. Deadeye went on point and started scouting ahead as soon as they entered the forest, while Urith brought up the rear to ensure no one followed them. Almost immediately they could all feel something was off in the forest. There was no birdsong or susurrus of insects. All was eerily quiet except for the muffled drip of rain on leaves. It set all of them on edge and they slowed to a paranoid crawl as they started at every noise. Something was off but they couldn't put it into words and each just tried to shake off any sense of malaise.
Despite making the trip multiple times previously, the mist, rain and eeriness of the forest made it difficult for them to be truly certain of where they were. They managed to get turned around several times and after the third time, they irritably just decided to keep their heads down and their hoods up against the weather, trusting the kenku's skill and sense of direction to lead them true.
Deadeye was the first to reach the clearing but stopped suddenly at the treeline with the others awkwardly stumbling into him from behind. Thinking they'd gotten lost yet again, Urith and Suljurn were about to admonish him when Deadeye held up a finger for silence and glared at them until they complied. They huddled along the edge of the clearing, doing their best to minimise their profiles and peer into the misty vale. A low fog surrounded the hillock and prevented them from seeing the far trees. In the center, where the tree stump and corpse of the plant beast had been, sat a towering grey robed figure with it's back to them. By it's profile it appeared female, but they couldn't be certain without looking at the front and as they could feel waves of dread emanating from the center of the clearing where it sat, they weren't sure they wanted it to turn around.
They discussed sneaking into the clearing quietly, but couldn't come up with a plan to get to the stump without interacting with the figure. While Arbor and Urith suggested alternatives, Oorr, with his typical impatience, and seemingly ignorant to the waves of dread radiating from the figure, strode boldly into the clearing. The second he stepped into the clearing, the figure spun instantly towards him and despite his inane bravado, even he felt a cold tickle of fear begin to creep up his spine and his feet became heavy and leaden, rooting him to the spot.
Arbor quickly told the others to fan out along the treeline and see if they could make it to the stump while she was fixated on Oorr. Suljurn, Angrar and Deadeye did but Urith stayed back, ostensibly to "keep watch".
When Angrar stepped into the clearing a little ways to the left of where Oorr had entered, he thought he was in the clear but almost as soon as the thought had entered his head, the spectral maiden had turned her gaze upon him and the waves of dread and fear washed over him, freezing him in his tracks. The same fate befell Suljurn and Deadeye when they too entered. Arbor was the last to enter and he too felt the waves of fear wash over him when her gaze locked with his, but he was surprised to find that he could still move albeit slowly.
With her gaze focused on Arbor, or perhaps because the damned goblin was still moving -- and he, "The hero of this story", wasn't, Oorr rallied his will and he too eventually managed to break free. Together, the goblin and faun inched close to the figure's base. As the others struggled to master their fears, Arbor deduced that the creature was in fact an illusion and Oorr stabbed at it with his rapier, hoping to disrupt it.
Thankfully, their assumption was correct. The rapier passed through the spectral figure's robes which resisted momentarily then exploded silently into tiny ribbons of cloth that instantly melted in the rain. With the figure gone, the others shook themselves loose of the fear that had taken hold and moved up to join Arbor and Oorr at the now revealed stump. Angrar asked if anyone else noticed that the forest was still eerily quiet, even with the figure gone. The others hadn't until he'd said something and commented it probably wasn't a good thing but they doubted they could do much about it yet.
They opened the doorway at the base of the stump and stepped in. Arbor noticed that the spiral staircase had shifted and was descending in the reverse direction that it had last time they were there. This news did not sit well with the group and they prepared for the worst as they descended.
The staircase went down a fair distance but they were uncertain if it went further than last time. All that turning was dizzying. Eventually they exited into a room at the top of a broad staircase that led down to a chamber below. This was definitely not the same chamber they'd been in before. They had no time to puzzle over it though as something was happening in the chamber that required their full attention.
From the landing at the top of the stairs, they could see into the chamber beyond and what they saw sent a knife of dread up their spine.
Immediately through the archway was a horned statue of some demonic creature. A ritual circle surrounded it and was marked by red candles that flickered in an unseen breeze. Beyond the statue, the room opened up into a larger cavern, similar to the one they'd been in before. At the far side of the room was a massive stone table, far larger and more ornate than the one they'd seen before. Surrounding the table were several hooded figures in red robes that matched the candles, chanting in a language that set the party's teeth on edge, even from this distance. While the party couldn't identify any of the cultists with their hoods up, they did see that the exposed skin around the cultists mouths were dripping with a red wetness. In the center of the table, floating a foot or so above it, was a large, humanoid figure cloaked in flowing black robes that shifted and undulated of their own accord. They could partially see through the figure and it would shift in and out of solidity as it paced. As the chanting continued, the figure slowly appeared more and more solid. Its face was hidden deep in the shadowed cowl of it's hood and it paced along the edge of the table as if testing the boundaries. Small bursts of purple and black sparks cascaded inside the table whenever it pushed against the edge when it was solid.
Beyond the table on a slightly raised dais against the far wall, sat a large throne-like chair. From their vantage point, they could see a figure, likely female, sitting in the throne and another figure, likely male, standing beside it but with the distance and lighting they couldn't quite make out who they were.
The group moved further down the stairs to get a better vantage. They were able to discern that the figure on the throne was Vera, and she was sitting somewhat uncomfortably on it. The figure to the side of the throne was male, and something about him was naggingly familiar to Urith but he couldn't figure out quite what it was. From their closer vantage point, Arbor also spotted a silvery metal blade laying on the table beneath the floating figure and what looked like another arcane circle embedded in the floor beneath it. They hastily decided that disrupting whatever was going on and rescuing Vera was the main priority, though someone pointed out that she looked like she might be involved. Angrar said that they'd figure that part out after, which was good, because Oorr was already moving. Still adamant that he actually was "that type of rogue", he crept forward to enact his own plan to "save the princess". The others sighed with familiar resignation and fell into their familiar roles. Urith hung back on the landing, providing what he had started calling "overwatch" while Angrar and Suljurn moved forward, with Suljurn heedlessly planning on charging straight into the room, until the others pointed out the first arcane circle that Oorr had taken great pains to avoid was straight in his path. He adjusted accordingly and moved into the room, just in time to see Oorr stab one of the chanting cultists.
Everything happened very quickly after that. The chanting stopped suddenly as everyone in the room was stunned as Oorr's three foot long blade erupted from the cultist's chest. The figure in the center of the table seemed panicked, or perhaps desperate and started to rapidly fade. It grasped frantically at the barrier, spraying black and purple sparks across the table as it tried to claw its way through. Vera screamed, though whether it was in anger or horror, no one knew. The cult leader, on the opposite side of the table from Oorr commanded the others to keep chanting. The cultists themselves seemed torn between following their leader's orders and facing the immediate threat posed by the party. The man beside the throne also seemed panicked and immediately started to run which is when it finally clicked for Urith as to who he was. It was Talos, The Rat Prince who he'd chased through the sewers in Cìrdan. Urith instantly took aim. He had a score to settle.
Arbor and Deadeye held the middle ground, just inside the chamber's entrance firing spells and arrows at the cultists to keep them disoriented while Suljurn moved to the leader and Angrar moved up to support Oorr. The cultists split up, with two figures peeling off to stop Oorr and the others while the rest started chanting again, despite the immediate threat. The barrier above the table became more solid and the figure inside also started to solidify again.
One of the cultists pulled out a large heavy book and hastily flipped through it's pages while the other moved to intercept Oorr but Angrar got in the way first. The spellcaster started chanting and Arbor was distracted by thinking "Hey! That looks like the spellbook Mawrdrynn described to us." and only caught the last three syllables of the spell.
KAL. VAS. FLAM.
He had just enough time to think, "OH SHIT!" before the world erupted into a giant fireball.
The intense wave of heat and flame was centered on the party, and washed over everyone with only Urith standing just outside the blast radius (though still close enough that it singed one of his eyebrows off). Angrar managed to roll with the blast and only got partially singed for his troubles. Deadeye was equally as lucky, though his drake was not. Neither were Arbor, Oorr and Suljurn who all felt the full effect of the flames and were feeling extremely crispy. Thankfully, a couple of the chanting cultists were also caught in the blast and they crumpled, once again disrupting the ritual.
When the wave of flame dissipated, it left the sickly sweet scent of burnt flesh mixed with woodsmoke. Everyone was stunned momentarily, sucking in air or trying to put out any small fires still on their person. Despite his wounds, Oorr regained his composure fairly quickly and slipped forward once again to intercept the spellcaster. He did not want him to cast that spell again.
Once he started moving, the others did as well. Angrar squared off with the cultist he'd intercepted and Suljurn tried to get close to the leader but another cultist got in the way and was dispatched with ease. The leader was screaming futilely at the others to resume the chant before turning to face the saurial. The other cultists ignored the leader's orders and moved to attack the party. Deadeye took a shot at the leader and Arbor paused to drink a potion as he'd been at the center of the fireball and was feeling worse for wear. Urith toyed casually with the idea of feathering Vera with an arrow - after all she was still just sitting in that throne and he knew she was the mastermind behind all of this but before he could act on his intrusive thoughts the wererat, Talon, made a break for the side of the room and Urith reacted instinctively, took aim and shot. Urith's arrow hit him with a satisfying thunk that was hard enough to spin the creature off balance and into the chairs stacks on the far side of the room.
The clatter of chairs as the wererat tumbled went mostly unnoticed though as all eyes were drawn to the center of the table. With the ritual disrupted, it looked like the spell was collapsing. An eye-twisting green and purple vortex had formed above the center of the table and started sucking everything towards it. The figure in the center of the table screamed soundlessly and was slowly pulled into the rift. It desperately clawed at the table for purchase, gouging deep rents in the stone as it tried to stop itself to little avail. It inevitably got pulled into the vortex and had almost disappeared when at the last second it made a desperate lunge for freedom. It grabbed one of the cultists nearest Oorr and pulled them screaming into the void with it... and then was gone. The vortex continued to collapse in on itself. Silently shifting colours through an eye-jarring spectrum before condensing into a pinpoint of utter blackness that hung in the air for several heartbeats before exploding outwards, blasting everyone in the room backwards from the shockwave.
The party was briefly stunned by the blast but managed to get to their feet in fairly short order, even if their ears were ringing. The cultists were slower to rise, but they too got up and started to square off against the party. Once everyone was back on their feet, both sides realised that something else had entered the room. Hovering above the table where the vortex had been was a spectral figure in tattered robes. An unnatural chill and feeling of dread radiated outwards from the creature and it's glowing white eyes held nothing but hate.
The creature silently pointed at two of the cultists' corpses laying near the table and the bodies started to spasm and twitch violently. A grey mist poured from each body and coalesced into a floating spectral figure similar to the original one. The undead creatures moved forward towards the living, regardless of whether it was a cultist or one of the party.
The party and cultists both divided their attentions between these new foes and the old ones. Suljurn finally got close to the leader but couldn't land a blow. Angrar dispatched another cultist and moved to intercept the wraith while Oorr ran the spellcaster through. When the body dropped, the cultist's hood fell back and Oorr was surprised to see the Mayor's face but he didn't have time to think about it as another cultist moved up to face him. Deadeye shot at one of the Spectres but the arrow went wide and came awfully close to hitting Vera, who was still sitting on the throne - though now that they were closer, struggling against unseen bonds might be a better description of what she was doing.
Arbor gathered his wits and cast a spell on the wraith, peppering it with lightning and while it definitely hurt the creature, it also seemed to anger it greatly. Urith had kept his focus solely on the wererat. He was determined not to let the bastard escape this time, sending arrow after arrow into him as he attempted to escape. The spectres engaged the cultists and the cultists died screaming as the spectres touched them. The screams sent shivers down the party's spine and they worried that they were next.
Suljurn was the first to feel the touch of the wraith and found out how excruciatingly painful it was. It felt like his soul was being forcibly ripped from his body and it left him weak and shaken afterwards, a shadow of his former self. He still managed to dispatch the leader and turned to face the wraith. The others shouted at him to grab the sword but the wraith stood in the way. Seeing no way to easily grab the blade, he stabbed wildly at the wraith with his spear, channelling his divine wrath in the hope that he could smite the creature.
Oorr's opponent dropped soundlessly in front of him and he came face to face with one of the spectres. It reached for him before he could react and he too felt the grave's icy touch. He riposted, barely able to lift his sword, and managed to land a glancing blow against the ephemeral creature and staggered away to a safer distance. The wererat got desperate and shapeshifted into its beast form and dove under the stone table, but not before Urith feathered it one last time. Deadeye found his mark the second time and feathered the spectre that was closing on Vera. Angrar also saw the spectre moving towards Vera and moved to prevent it getting there. It raked it's spectral claws ineffectually across his armoured chest, creating a shower of blue-white sparks, but little else.
Arbor remembered the lore of the sword and that it was supposed to fight the undead. With his lightning still merrily raining down on the wraith and it hopefully distracted, he moved up to the table and grabbed the heavy sword. He managed to manoeuvre close enough to Suljurn to slide it towards him before ducking back before the wraith noticed him.
With the wererat potentially dead under the table, Urith turned his bow on the wraith while still keeping tabs on the rat just in case. The spectre that had been attacking Oorr, shifted towards Arbor and landed a blow that didn't do a lot of damage, but was enough to break his concentration and dissipate the spellcloud above the wraith. Angrar swung at the spectre and managed to land a series of heavy blows that did enough damage to discorporate it. He then moved to assist Arbor who didn't look like he'd survive another strike from the other spectre.
Suljurn wasn't doing great either. The wraith struck him again and he was feeling his life-force slip away with each strike. While Deadeye and Urith feathered the thing with arrows, he took the opportunity to drop his shield and spear and grab the sword that Arbor had tossed him. He swung at the creature, imbuing the strike with every ounce of holy energy he had left and praying to whichever god was watching to strike true. His prayers were answered (or at least not ignored) and the magic blade bit deep into the creature's form, causing it to recoil from the saurial and the blade.
Angrar and Oorr, with Arbor's assistance took down the last spectre and turned to focus their attentions on the wraith. They saw the creature recoil from Suljurn and his blade. It then shifted towards Vera and they worried that they wouldn't be able to intercept it in time. Instead of attacking her however, it pulled at the soul of another one of the cultists and transformed it into another spectre. Once again splitting the party's focus.
Suljurn tried to get to the wraith but the newly raised spectre stood in his way. Seeing the sword's effects, it bolstered his confidence and he attacked with renewed vigour, landing several blows that cut deeply into the undead spirit. Urith and Deadeye continued to feather the wraith and Angrar and Oorr moved up to keep it occupied and away from Vera.
With the others engaging the undead, Arbor moved up to Vera and started to untie her from her bonds. While he was confident that they could take down the wraith, he wasn't sure how much fight it had left in it. Suljurn dispatched the spectre with a triumphant cry and moved in to finish the wraith off with the others. The creature showed no signs of slowing, despite its robes looking even more tattered. It's baleful eyes stared hatefully at them all as it took a final swipe at Angrar, failing once again to penetrate his armour. Angrar's responding thrust struck true however and with a silent scream, the creature dissipated into oblivion.
With the fight over, the others helped Arbor untie Vera. Once she was free, they asked her if she was okay were very surprised when she responded with an unexpected amount of aggression and tried to get away from them. She screamed that she wasn't Vera and she tugged desperately at a bracelet on her arm, struggling to remove it before sobbing dejectedly once she realised she couldn't. The group weren't too sure what was going on. Angrar and Arbor managed to calm her down and discover that she while she looked like Vera, she was in fact Lady Aliana Prestor. She said she'd been kidnapped the night before last, which fit with the timeline they had of Vera's disappearance. Lady Aliana said that Vera had placed the bracelet on her and wore a matching ring.
Urith, ever the paranoid pessimist, didn't quite believe her but started casting his identify ritual on the bracelet to see what it was. After about ten minutes, he was able to determine that it was something called a bracelet of twin souls and it did pretty much what Vera/Aliana was saying so he begrudgingly said to the others that her story checked out so he guessed that they should believe her. Unfortunately for him, Lady Aliana heard him and immediately took a dislike to him for his attitude.
Now that they'd established her identity, she demanded that they assist her in stopping Vera's plot, whatever it was. They argued with her that charging in to the manor with such a wild story would doubtfully convince her husband and they didn't know who else was involved. They suggested taking a side trip to Mawrdrynn, the mage, who could remove the bracelet which would free her from the spell and allow her to confront Vera as her true self. She argued fiercely that every minute she was away from the manor was another that Vera was sinking her claws into her husband and the land. They continued to try and talk her out of doing something rash with Angrar and Arbor eventually conceding to her that if the mage didn't work out (they had accidentally let slip that the mage might not be able to remove the bracelet which had set back negotiations another twenty minutes) then they would help her storm the manor and capture Vera.
While the goblin and half-ghrym negotiated with her, the others took the time to search through the rest of the cavern. They unmasked the remainder of the cultists. Besides the mayor, the only one they recognised was the merchant fence named Viggo that Oorr had charmed and then stolen from. The leader also seemed familiar, but they didn't know him by name and couldn't place where they'd seen him. Likely, he was someone they'd met at the Lord's party earlier in the week. The corpses that had been turned into spectres were shrivelled and mummified husks that they couldn't recognise and the rest had the look of peasants or townfolk.
Urith made a point of dragging Talos' corpse out from under the table and (when he was pretty sure no one was watching) stabbed him through the heart just to be certain. He searched the body and found a cylindrical tube with several rings of elven letters on it. The tube rattled, as if there was something inside it, but Urith couldn't open it. Other than that, the sword and spellbook were the only treasures they discovered.
Once Aliana had been begrudgingly convinced to visit the mage, the group set off with her still grumbling that this was a bad idea and that they were going in the wrong direction. Urith got irritated with her haughty attitude and snapped off a comment about we could just tie her up and take her back and say look, we found "Vera" and be done with it. Needless to say, that did not go over well with Lady Aliana who stared daggers at him for most of the journey. The others stayed out of it but definitely wondered at the sudden, darker aspect of their companion.
The friction between the two reared it's head again while they were passing through Taveren Mill. Despite having her hood up, a couple of the villagers still recognised Aliana as Vera and greeted her as such. She had a brief conversation with them and did her best to pose as Vera but stumbled over details and appeared a little addled. The villagers seemed concerned but Arbor stepped in and smoothed things over, saying that she'd had a blow to the head and that they were taking her to see the mage at Morwen's Tower. That brought several of the villagers hastily drawing signs in the air to ward off evil and then actively stepping away from the group. The party took the hint and hurried on, but not before Urith suggested that they kill the villagers for seeing Vera's face. Lady Aliana bore down on him with unbridled fury in her eyes and told him in no uncertain terms that he was not to lay a hand on a single one of her subjects without her permission or she would have him whipped and dragged naked behind a horse from here to Phandalin. Urith contritely apologised and made his way to the back of the party, putting as much distance between himself and the Lady as possible.
The others again wondered when Urith had taken a darker turn. Sure, he'd always been paranoid and put his self-interest first but he'd never casually discussed murdering people just cause they'd seen something they shouldn't before this. Angrar made a point to bring it up with the others at the next rest point. He thought about discussing it with Arbor now as they walked but the goblin had been puzzling over the cryptex during the journey and was mostly preoccupied.
By the time they reached the trail leading to Morwen's Tower, Arbor had successfully managed to open the cryptex. He'd tried various combinations unsuccessfully but eventually, and hesitantly, tried the name Moloch. The cryptex opened easily and inside was a scroll bound by a ring. He pocketed the ring for now and opened the scroll to read it. Immediately he was hit with the now familiar pain as he saw the words written in the same infernal language as before. The headache quickly passed though and he hastily wiped his bloody nose before anyone else noticed. He would have to sit down and take the time to decode it properly.
The trail ended and they entered the manicured gardens with various statuary pieces on display. Oorr immediately drew his blade and sensed the unease of the place but the others laughed at his behaviour and strode confidently to the main tower. As they got closer, they saw Mawrdrynn standing in the doorway to greet them. It had only been a couple of days since they'd seen him last but the change in him was dramatic. His once towering frame was bent and he seemed smaller and withered. His face had an unhealthy grey pallor to it and he moved slowly, leaning heavily on his staff. Despite his looks, he greeted them warmly and welcomed them inside. When he spotted "Vera", he gushed and greeted her familiarly while she stood uncomfortably and didn't know what to say. The others stepped in to smooth over the awkwardness and explained that this actually wasn't the Vera he knew.
He looked confused and intrigued and after a quick, almost unconscious glance at the sky, he motioned them inside. Once inside, he bolted and secured the door several times over. Lady Aliana was drawn to the orrery but the others politely motioned her past towards the living quarters Mawrdrynn had beyond, while their host could be heard upstairs on the landing securing another door, or possibly a window.
He joined them shortly. The small room where he lived would be considered cozy at the best of times. With eight people and all of Mawrdrynn's belongings, the room was positively crowded. Mawrdrynn maneuvered through the room as best he could, knocking over a stack of books that he didn't even bother to fix and bumping into "Vera" and almost sending them both tumbling into Oorr which he apologised greatly for. Once through the room, he sat down in an overstuffed chair near the fire. The firelight did nothing to help the way he looked and his weariness and exhaustion were very evident as he looked like he would fall asleep listening to their tale.
While the others were telling the tale, Deadeye quietly went to the hearth and started cooking. He took whatever thin broth Mawrdrynn had simmering and did what he could to turn it into a hearty stew. By the time the tale had ended, he was just finishing handing out a steaming bowl to everyone. Urith and Suljurn didn't even complain (much) that it wasn't bacon flavoured.
They ate in silence for a few before Lady Aliana broached the subject of getting the mage's help. Mawrdrynn sighed and said he would be glad to help but unfortunately he was tapped out magically and without his spellbook he would be less than useful as all his remaining power would be spent on the tower's ward's tonight. Lady Aliana (and Oorr) looked confused as to the need for wards but Arbor and the others nodded sagely and offered to help him withstand tonight's assault. At the mention of his spellbook, Arbor smacked his forehead and leapt up. He had completely forgotten about the spellbook and quickly pulled it out of his pack and offered it to the old firbolg.
Mawrdrynn's eyes teared up as he delicately took the book and rested it on his lap. A change slowly came over the mage as he caressed the cover of the book and thanked them profusely. Up until this point, he had had a defeated air about him. With the return of the book, he looked like he had regained some modicum of hope. He said that if they survived the night, he would gladly look at the bracelet and help the Lady out.
The party set up their bedrolls around the tiny room, with a few just opting to sleep in the chairs. Mawrdrynn made some space for Lady Aliana behind a privacy screen in the area that doubled as his bedroom. While everyone was setting up a watch schedule and helping secure the defenses, Arbor took the brief respite to translate what he could of the letter he'd found in the cryptex. He discovered the letter was a missive from someone in the cult (presumably the leader) to their superior or patron. It spoke of a disruption in their normal communication channels and that the wererat was an undesirable (and possibly unreliable) neccessity of a courier. It also spoke of acquiring the sword and of a ritual. The ritual had worked though the power was insufficient to maintain whatever the speaker's goals were, something about the Lord being able to step through. It also spoke of the unsuccessful search for other blades and hoped that the reader had better success at finding them. The ring that had accompanied the letter, was to be the courier's payment though the contempt Arbor sensed regarding the courier gave him pause to the goodwill of the author. He'd worry about that later. Something about the letter's structure was bothering him but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He stared at it for a long time and he almost had it figured out. Something to do with the way the words were capitalised when he was interrupted. Almost on cue, a faint cry could be heard in the distance, signalling sundown.
The cry sent an invariable shiver down everyone's spine and even Oorr, who was normally immune to these things, shifted uncomfortably and loosened his rapiers. Mawrdrynn started chanting almost as soon as he heard the wail, chanting in an arcane tongue that only Arbor understood.
The wailing got closer and a visibly straining Mawrdrynn said through clenched teeth. "She's past... the.... first ward. Won't be... long now". Sure enough, the others soon felt the presence of Mawrdrynn's wife, Bronwydd, who was now a banshee. Similiar to their encounter a few days previously, the banshee howled outside the tower. Rattling the doors and screaming into the night. This time though, the rattling was close to shaking the giant door off its hinges and the wailing was much louder. Angrar glanced over at Mawrdrynn to see his eyes were closed and his face contorted in a rictus of concentration, or perhaps pain.
The wards held.
For the first hour at least , and then the second. By the third though Mawrdrynn was fading fast. He was sweating profusely and started to slur his words, barely able to keep conscious. The party kept glancing at him and back at the continuously rattling great door. He held on as long as he could and Arbor tried his best to nudge him and keep him awake but in the end he collapsed, fully exhausted. The chanting stopped mid-sentence.
The group had about three rapid heartbeats to contemplate the silence before an explosion rocked the tower. From the inner chamber they could see the tower's great doors had been blown inwards, the hinges and steel bars twisted like yarn. Floating above the wreckage of the door was a spectral female figure that radiated hatred and spite. It moved forward, sensing the lifeforce in the back of the tower.
Angrar, Suljurn and Oorr moved up while Urith and Deadeye flanked the doorway trying to get a line of sight through the gears and machina of the massive orrery. Arbor hung back to check on Mawrdrynn before moving up to join the archers in the doorway. The creature moved up and as it got close to Oorr, let out a wail that pierced their very souls.
When the wards had been up and the banshee outside, the wail had been uncomfortable , and, they told themselves ultimately survivable. Inside, without the wards, the party faced the full impact of the creature's keening wail and they were not prepared. Arbor dropped like a stone in a heartbeat and hovered on the cusp of death. Oorr and Suljurn took the full force of the wail unchecked and it took a heavy toll on their will. Urith, Deadeye and Angrar managed to block their ears enough to shrug off the wail and moved to engage.
Angrar swung wildly but the blow did little to damage the creature. Urith managed to get off a single arrow that found it's mark before the banshee fixed him with it's baleful glare and he was frozen in fear to the spot where he stood. Oorr's natural fearlessness (read: ignorance) helped him shrug off the psychic assault and he moved up. Dancing with the creature and having much the same effect as Angrar. Deadeye gave up his cover to check on Arbor and stabilize him. Once Suljurn recovered from the wail, he swung the sword of the grave at the creature, and when he hit, he gave the party their first glimmer of hope.
The sword glowed icy blue and threw off sparks as it bit deep into the banshee's side causing her to wail in pain and lash out at the saurial. Her baleful gaze focused on Suljurn from that point on, deeming him as the greatest threat.
Angrar and Oorr moved up and hacked away at the creature's defenses, distracting her from focusing solely on Suljurn, earning them each a baleful glare and clawed attack. Angrar was able to laugh through the stare but Oorr was poleaxed despite his vaunted ignorance fearlessness. Urith, was able to shake off the effects of her stare and lobbed another volley of arrows into her spectral form. Deadeye joined in once he was certain Arbor was alive and stable and Arbor got up slowly and hung back in the room, cautious to get further involved.
The fight continued, with Suljurn's weapon causing great pain to the creature and the others whittling away at the edges. Unfortunately for Suljurn, the banshee continued to focus on him and he eventually went down. The banshee glared at the others and once again stoked the fear in their hearts freezing all but Angrar and Deadeye in their tracks. The creature moved into the living quarters and tried to get close to Mawrdrynn but not before Angrar had intercepted. They traded blows with Angrar sustaining a heavy slash from the creature's claws down the side of his head. While Angrar sparred, Deadeye took aim and launched an arrow that pierced the creature's back and was enough to sever it's connection to the world. In a blast of tattered cloth and dust, the banshee disappated, leaving everyone standing there exhausted and barely alive.
After quickly checking to make sure everyone was still alive and stabilising those who almost weren't, they all crawled into a bedroll, or collapsed where they stood and let the blissfulness of unconsciousness take them.
Rewards Granted
- 906 XP
- The Sword of The Grave
- A Cryptex
- A Magic Ring
- Half of a Bracelet of Twin-Souls
Missions/Quests Completed
- Found The Sword of the Grave
- Recovered Mawrdrynn's spellbook
- Located and rescued the Lady Vera
Character(s) interacted with
- Brother Hermes
- Lady Aliana Prestor
- Mawrdrynn
Notes
Contact the GM privately via messenger and mention Egypt prior to next game for an xp reward.
This offer has now expired
</FNORD!>
Deadeye Cliffhanger
Oorr Rosetta del Hilltopple
Rogue 4
Sorcerer 1
10
18
12
8
12
16
Urith Thane
Suljurn sah-Ghad
Arbor Nox
