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Ptolus - In the Shadow of the Spire
IN THE SHADOW OF THE SPIRE

SESSION 35C: AMBUSH IN THE BANEWARRENS

January 5th, 2009
The 18th Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty

JEVICCA AWAITS

Jevicca & the Ghostly Minstrel - Ptolus (Monte Cook Games)

When they returned to the Ghostly Minstrel late that night, they found Jevicca drinking in the common room. They greeted her with friendly cheer and, a short while later, went up to Elestra’s room.

Once they had reached that (relatively) secure privacy, they turned quickly to the business before them: They told her about the warding generator, the sealing properties of the walls, and the presence of the bone-ring wearers who were apparently responsible for breaching the Banewarrens.

Jevicca inspected the ring they had given her. “There are binding magicks, warding magicks, and geas magicks at work here. But they are all intertwined and well obscured. May I take this with me to have it properly studied?”

“Sure,” Tee said. “I’ve got plenty of them.”

“I wouldn’t recommend trying any of them on.”

“Yeah, we figured that out for ourselves.”

Jevicca paid each of them the 1,000 gold pieces she had promised. Then she made them a new offer: “The Inverted Pyramid wants the Banewarrens sealed.”

“I don’t know if we can do that,” Ranthir said. “It would take me weeks to work out how to repair the warding generator… if it’s possible at all.”

“I’ll see if I can get help from the Pyramid for that,” Jevicca said. “But the important thing is the creature that penetrated the inner door. If she’s still inside, she could break the seals again and escape – leaving the Banewarrens open behind her.”

Jevicca offered each of them a payment of 2,000 gold pieces or a custom-made mage-touched item worth twice that much if they could track down and remove or kill the invader. After a brief discussion, they agreed. (In many ways it was an easy decision: They wanted the Banewarrens closed just as much as the Inverted Pyramid did. They might as well get paid for doing it.)

Jevicca had also been busy researching. She was able to tell them of three significant historical efforts to penetrate the Banewarrens: Alchestrin, a former Lord of Castle Shard, studied the Banewarrens extensively. He was almost certainly the most knowledgable person in the modern era when it came to the subject.

Sokalahn was a powerful sorcerer of pre-history who spent years or possibly even decades attempting to breach the wards around the Banewarrens. In the casting of a powerful ritual towards that end he met with a spectacular failure – great energies were spun forth which twisted into pools and eddies called the Pits of Insanity. “These pools of pure chaos,” Jevicca said, “Were scattered throughout the subterranean areas around the city, playing havoc with physical laws and magical powers.”

Elestra shuddered.

“Ghul also made many attempts, few of which were documented – but all of which failed. He eventually came to believe that the secret of overcoming the magical wards might lie with the arts of chaositech.”

AMBUSH IN THE BANEWARRENS

They returned to the Banewarrens to renew the spell of alarming they had placed on the door. On the way, they realized they had become careless: The Ghostly Minstrel lay outside the range of the spell, and yet they had gone there several times that day. At the thought, their hearts became ill at ease.

Fortunately, Kalerecent greeted them cheerfully in the excavated antechamber.

“Is everything all right?”

“All has been quiet here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Why? Has the alarm been triggered?”

“Err… No. Not at all.”

And, in fact, it had not. With their fears temporarily allayed, they headed down into the Banewarrens themselves. Ranthir cast a new alarm on the sealed door and they began chatting idly about their affairs: They decided to go to Mahdoth’s Asylum the next day to follow-up on the letter Ranthir had received. They considered different ways of fulfilling Jevicca’s new assignment. (“We should just lay siege here. She has to come out eventually.”) They also considered what should be done about the chaos temple in Oldtown and the other two temples they knew of in the Temple District.

And then Tee’s sharp ears caught it: “My friends! To arms! To arms!”

“There’s something wrong!” Tee took off running down the hall.

Agnarr and the freshly boot-enhanced Tor both passed her easily in the race out of the Banewarrens. Coming back up the tunnel leading to the antechamber, however, they came up short in front of a wall of seemingly impenetrable darkness. A few moments later, the others caught up to them. Even Tee’s elven vision couldn’t penetrate its unnatural depths. And everything beyond it was eerily silent.

They fidgeted, unsure of what they should do. Tor was skilled in the arts of blind-fighting – having practiced his swordcraft on many moonless nights – but without any idea of what might lay within the darkness it didn’t seem wise to go rushing in. (Although Agnarr firmly endorsed the “rushing in with both eyes shut” plan.)

Then Tee heard heavy footsteps approaching them from out of the darkness… but as those footsteps emerged into the passage, there was still nothing to be seen. Tee whipped her dragon pistol up and fired.

The shot missed.

A blue-skinned ogre with dark runes etched across its temples appeared out of thin air, swinging its massive sword. It caught Tee flat-footed and sent her stumbling backwards down the passage.

Dominic was completely exhausted by this point (it had been an impossibly long day), but he somehow dredged up the strength to draw once more upon his divine power and let it flow into Tor. Tor was gleeful to feel himself grow in the same way that he had seen Agnarr do so many times before, and even before the transformation was complete his sword had lashed out, striking the ogre with two quick blows.

Dazed and surprised, the ogre raised his sword to parry and cried out—“Yuinthu! They’re stronger than we thought! I need—“

And then Tor, with one last plunging thrust of his blade, killed the creature.

The ogre fell.

And the darkness fell with it.

To one side of the antechamber, another half-leonid creature crouched – seemingly shocked by the sudden return of the light. She had a slightly different countenance than the others they had fought, but was clearly of similar nature.

And to the other side of the chamber stood a tall, purplish-skinned humanoid with a mouth of frothing tentacles and slitted, milky-white eyes.

Ranthir recognized this latter creature as a “flayer” from vague references in ancient texts – and something about “feasting upon the brains of the living”.

Mind Flayer“Don’t let it eat your brains!” Ranthir cried out in warning.

“That doesn’t sound good,” Dominic muttered.

Tee moved forward to get a better shot at the betentacled creature, but as she moved into the antechamber two huge spiders dropped from the ceiling.

“Look up! Why do we never look up when it matters?!” Tor cursed in frustration.

Tee, for her part, barely managed to roll backwards down the tunnel – although she still received a nasty, slashing cut that burned painfully from the spider’s venom.

“Yuinthu!” the leonid cried. “We need to get out of here!” She bounded forward, leaping through the air and landing atop Tor – all of her claws raking painfully into this chest while her jaws sank deep into his shoulder. Her claws dug into his flesh as she bunched her legs and leapt back into the room, sending Tor staggering backwards.

While Tor was still trying to recover, Yuinthu – with a strange and alien gait – shambled forward and laid his hands upon the leonid. The leonid, in turn, laid her paws upon the ogre and the spiders both reached forth claws to touch the sphinx—

And they vanished.

RANTHIR AND THE DREAMING APOTHECARY

Dominic rushed to Kalerecent’s side, finding the knight still breathing shallowly. With a burst of holy energy, he got him back on his feet.

“You drove them off?”

“More or less,” Tee said.

“The ogre appeared out of thin air.”

“They disappeared that way, too.”

Ranthir had detected a slight aura of planar magic in the flayer’s escape spell. He suggested that they might be able to trace their teleport and proposed that they ask Jevicca to do it for them…

… which is when they realized they had no way of contacting her.

Knowing that Jevicca had contacts with the Dreaming Apothecary (because she had given their token to Elestra), Ranthir took the Apothecary’s token from Elestra and raced back to the Ghostly Minstrel. When he failed to find Jevicca in the common room there, he headed up to his room and placed the token under this pillow. In his excitement it took him some time to drift off to sleep, but he finally managed it.

When he awoke to find the representative of the Dreaming Apothecary in his room – dressed in cloth-of-gold and with her long, blond locks drifting through the air – and explained that he was trying to contact Jevicca.

The representative of the Dreaming Apothecary was unamused. “We are not a messenger service.”

Ranthir rapidly backpedaled, instead placing an order for a magical headband that would aid his arcane researches and making arrangements for payment.

The representative agreed to the commission, but then she raised her finger. “However, for your impudence, tonight your dreams shall be plagued with discontent. Do not forget this lesson, mage. We are not to be trifled with.”

The room was instantly swallowed in blackness and Ranthir felt himself thrown heavily backwards into his bed.

When he opened his eyes again, he found himself standing upon a crowded street at high noon. But there was something wrong with the faces of the people around him – they seemed indistinct, blurred, warped. His eyes could neither focus on them nor ignore them. The entire scene was deeply unsettling…

And then there were gasps of fear and cries of terror. His head snapped up. The surface of the sun was… festering. Green and black sores were spreading across its surface like cancerous growths. The sun was dying. And then a whisper, like a long-dead voice snatched by the wind, caught at his ear—

“…an age of endless night has come…”

He lurched awake to find himself in his own bed once again.

Running the Campaign: Ambushing Your TimelinesCampaign Journal: Session 36A
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index

Ptolus - In the Shadow of the Spire
IN THE SHADOW OF THE SPIRE

SESSION 35B: LETTERS OF MYSTERIOUS MOTIVE

January 5th, 2009
The 18th Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty

Black Bird

Tellith thanked them again for their help. While she was expressing her gratitude, she remembered that letters had come for “Master Ranthir and Master Tor, now where did they go? Ah! Here they are!”

They thanked Tellith for both her kindness and the letters and then headed upstairs to Elestra’s room.

Elestra wanted to question the raven… only ravens don’t actually talk, so that proved to be a bit of a problem.

Elestra, however, had an idea. “We could kill it and then use speak with dead—“

“I don’t think it works like that.”

By the time Tee summarily thrust a dagger through the bird, Ranthir and Tor had already tuned out the conversation and broken the seals on their letters.

LETTER FROM DANNETH SONNELL

Master Ranthir—

I am a caretaker at Mahdoth’s Asylum. One of our inmates has requested several times over the last several days to speak with you. I am not sure if you could be of any help, but perhaps it would soothe his troubled mind. If you could find the time to come to the Asylum, I would greatly appreciate it.

Thank you,

Danneth Sonnell

 

Ranthir recognized Mahdoth’s as an asylum for insane wizards, but he had no idea why he might be summoned there.

“Maybe they think you’re nuts,” Dominic suggested.

“Or maybe it has something do with our missing memories,” Elestra said.

GEMMELL’S NOTE

Master Tor—

Come to the Godskeep at once. I must speak to you in the matter of Sir Kabel and sundry other actions of traitorous nature.

Sir Gemmell
Captain of the Order of the Dawn

Tor was deeply concerned by this missive.

“Could he suspect? But if he was going to kill me, why would he send me a note?” Tor shrugged. “Of course, the last time I tried to think my way through this sort of thing, I ended up over-thinking it.”

GEMMELL’S PURPOSE

They decided to cover their bases: Tee would sneak up to Pythoness House and explain the situation to Kabel (who was expecting them in less than two hours). Tor would take Erin (Ranthir’s familiar) in his pocket and, if Erin panicked, that would warn Ranthir (who shared an empathic bond with her). Ranthir and the others would be waiting at the western end of the Temple District. If anything went wrong, Agnarr would run to Pythoness House to get help.

They spent the better part of the next hour carefully putting this plan into motion.

When Tor arrived at the Godskeep he was taken to Gemmell’s office (which had once been Sir Kabel’s).

“Master Tor, I am glad you came so quickly.”

“I am at your service.”

“Yes, you have served the Novarch true. Unfortunately, I fear that is not true of all your comrades.”

Tor had relaxed for a moment, only to tense again: Did he suspect (or know) that his friends were not supporters of Rehobath? He had questioned Dominic’s loyalty before. Was he questioning it again?

“Sir Kabel has escaped.”

“What?” Tor was momentarily thrown off-balance.

“He was warned that we were coming.”

“I am shocked,” Tor said glibly.

“Nor is that the only treason in our midst. The orc woman you captured in the Banewarrens has escaped.”

“Escaped?” This time Tor was truly surprised. “How is that possible?”

“There must be a traitor within the Order,” Gemmell said. “The truth is that you’re the only one I can trust. You not only gave me Sir Kabel’s location, but you were also responsible for capturing the escaped prisoner.”

Tor valiantly stopped himself from gaping. “I’m honored that you would place your faith in me.”

“You have earned it,” Gemmell said. “All of this could have waited until the morrow, but I felt it urgent that I speak with you at once. If Kabel knows that he was betrayed, then it’s possible that he knows you were the one who betrayed him. And if he knows that, he might try to retaliate against you. Keep a wary eye.”

“Thank you, milord. I will.”

“I need you safe. And I need you in a position where you can learn as much as you can as quickly as you can. Tomorrow, when you come for your training, you will be knighted.”

DINNER AT PYTHONESS HOUSE

Pythoness House - Night of Dissolution (Monte Cook Games)

Tor was ecstatic at the thought of being knighted. He was so excited, in fact, that he stopped to buy a couple bottles of wine on his way back to meet the others.

They were glad to see him well, and surprised to see the giddy smile on his face. As Tor was explaining the situation to them, however, Agnarr’s eyes suddenly glazed over and he spoke aloud:

Jevicca requires a meeting. I request an update on your progress and have information for you.

“Who? Me?” Dominic said. (Agnarr had been staring straight at him.)

“Hmm? No. It was Jevicca. You didn’t hear that?”

The barbarian had heard her voice in his head and only been absent-mindedly repeating the words verbatim. Ranthir guessed that it had been a magical sending of some sort.

They put the issue of Jevicca to one side for the moment, however, and headed up to Pythoness House. There they were greeted by Sir Kabel and Sera Nara.

Although from the outside the keep appeared undisturbed, the knights had cleaned up several rooms on the first and second floors. They had, in fact, reclaimed the dining room to its former purpose, although the current furnishings were nothing more than several conveniently arranged crates. Similarly, the meal itself was not extravagant, but it was well-provisioned.

As they settled down to eat, Tor brought out the wine he had bought.

“Ah, good,” Kabel said. “I’m afraid the well here has yielded only foul water.”

Agnarr shuddered. “Yes, I suppose it would.”

Kabel raised a quizzical eyebrow at the barbarian, but then his attention swung firmly back to Tor as the latter proposed a toast in honor his knighthood.

Tor was proud of the accomplishment and excited at the thought of what the morrow would bring. This was the dream that had first brought him to Ptolus – that had haunted him his entire life – and now he was going to achieve it. He was, at best, puzzled that Sir Kabel didn’t share his enthusiasm.

Tee, trying to cover over the sudden tension that filled the room, raised her own glass. “If nothing else, we couldn’t ask for Tor to be better positioned as an inside man.”

“Yes,” Kabel said. “At least we have that to be thankful for, Sir Tor.”

Tee’s gambit, however, was successful. The conversation turned to how they might turn Tor’s position to their good use. Tor himself played with the idea of using his position to start a fifth column within the Order, but Kabel pointed out that – even if Gemmell trusted him – it didn’t mean that other people within the Godskeep would.

“They might even be jealous of your position,” Elestra pointed out.

“That’s true,” Tor conceded.

“What exactly are your goals, Sir Kabel?” Tee asked.

Kabel reviewed the situation with them – explaining about the coming of Kirian Ylestos as the newly appointed Silver Fatar of the Cathedral and his calculations of their combined force of arms.

“As my first order of business, I would like to use Pythoness House as a defensible mustering point for the knights loyal to the Church.” No one had any objection to this. Kabel thanked them. “Sera Nara, send out word to the bolt-holes in the morning.”

Sera Nara nodded.

“And now I would speak with you, Master Dominic.”

“Who? Me?”

“Yes. I think it would mean a great deal to our cause if you would publicly renounce Rehobath. He used you to legitimize his claim.”

Dominic was hesitant. “He may not be the Novarch, but he is touched by the gods. I have seen that with my own eyes. He still has the power of the Silver Fatar.”

“Whatever powers – holy or unholy – he may have, he is not the Silver Fatar,” Kabel said. “The Church has deposed him.”

Dominic conceded the point… and agreed to denounce him. “When do you want me to do it?”

“Not before we’ve had a chance to gather our knights and make Pythoness House defensible,” Kabel said. “Once you do this, we’ll all become targets. Perhaps two or three days?”

Dominic nodded. “All right.”

“Is this really in our best interests?” Tee asked. “If Dominic openly betrays Rehobath, that could cause a backlash that would affect Tor’s position in the Order.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Kabel said.

But after turning the issue around the table a few times, they agreed that Tor should go to Gemmell and warn him of Dominic’s announcement. Not in time for Rehobath or Gemmell to do anything about it, but with enough time that Tor would continue to be seen in the best possible light.

“You could tell him I’m strong-willed,” Dominic said.

“Umm… He knows you.”

“Oh.” Dominic thought about it. Then he pointed at Tee. “Well, I’m under a strong influence.”

They laughed.

“But even if I do this,” Tor said, “It’s more than possible that I will need to distance myself from the rest of you for at least awhile. And I have no idea how it might affect our affairs in the Banewarrens.”

There seemed to be no answer for that. And so, with those matters as settled as they might be, they turned their attentions to a warm evening of cordial friendhip. Or, as Agnarr put it, they “stuck around until the wine was gone”.

Running the Campaign: Weaving the Background Campaign Journal: Session 35C
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index

Ptolus - In the Shadow of the Spire
IN THE SHADOW OF THE SPIRE

SESSION 35A: BIRDS OF A BLACK FEATHER

January 18th, 2009
The 18th Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty

Black Feather

Once they had reached a position of relative safety (i.e., far away from the chaos temple), Ranthir magically attuned his vision. Looking over the items they had looted from the cultists, he saw several arcane auras. These items, combined with the various coins and gems, constituted a small fortune.

“They were well equipped,” Tor said.

One of the items, in particular, held particular interest for the fighter: Gavele’s preternatural speed was explained by the enchanted boots she wore. Tor, who had struggled to keep up with the long, powerful strides of Agnarr’s barbarian-bred legs, claimed both these and a shirt of finely crafted and mage-touched chain.

Once they had emerged from the sewers, they sold the unclaimed items in various shops across Midtown and the North Market. Then they headed to the Cathedral and received divine healing, mystically purging their poison-wracked bodies. They also took the opportunity to stock up on a variety of portable curatives so that they would be able to deal with poison on site in the future. (“This probably won’t be the last time we’ll be dealing with the Brotherhood of Venom.”)

They had completed these chores as a matter of urgency and necessity, but now that the dinner hour was approaching, they realized they were still variously caked with sewer sludge, crusted blood, and other various foulnesses. And so they headed toward the bathhouse on Tavern Row.

BIRDS OF A BLACK FEATHER

When they arrived at the Row Bathhouse, however, they found a small crowd gathered around its gaping door. A carpet of black feathers covered a broad swath of the street directly in front of the building.

Ranthir turned to Elestra. “What type of feathers are they? Raven or crow?”

“I don’t know, I’m an urban druid.”

But Ranthir was thinking about what Elestra had told them of her experiences at Nadar’s Pub: Sir Kabel had dismissed the possibility that she had been a messenger from the Killravens explicitly because she had been too small to be a raven.

They approached one of the men gathered around the scene. “What happened?”

“I hardly know. I was just walking down the street when a huge flock of birds flew into the bathhouse. Several people ran out, most of them screaming their fool heads off. And then the bird flew back out again.”

“What type of birds were they?”

“I don’t know. They were just black birds.”

“Wait,” Ranthir said. “Were they crows, ravens, or blackbirds?”

Dominic sighed. “I don’t think he knows.”

With a shrug, Tor and Tee headed into the bathhouse. They found Derra, the proprietress of the bathhouse, being questioned by a watchman. Tee took the opportunity to sneak through the far door and into the baths themselves.

She found the pools tainted with blood – crimson tendrils eddying between black feathers. She poked around for a bit, but didn’t find anything notable.

As she came back into the front office, the watchman spotted her and kicked them out onto the street. As they emerged from the door, they spotted a raven watching them from the roof on the opposite side of the Row. Seeing that it had been noticed, the raven took off and began to fly away to the south.

Reacting instantly, Elestra called upon the Spirit of the City and transformed into a hawk. She winged her way quickly after the errant raven. The crafty creature managed to dodge her first attempt to snag it, but on her second pass she was able to clasp it in her talons. She winged her way back towards the others—

And then flew past them on her way to the Ghostly Minstrel.

“Where’s she going?”

Tee was exasperated. “She’s like a magpie! But instead of shiny things, it’s bad guys.”

TELLITH’S TROUBLES

Elestra flew in through the window of her room. The others followed on foot.

But when they opened the front door of the Ghostly Minstrel, they found Tellith being confronted by a large ogre and three thugs.

“—and don’t think your delver friends will help you,” the ogre growled.

“Delver friends like us?” Tee stabbed him in the back.

With a roar of pain, the ogre whirled around and lowered his hands. From the tips of his fingers a wave of fire poured forth, bursting through the front doors of the Minstrel.

But Tee, reacting in the flicker of an eye, had flattened herself against the wall – avoiding the flames completely. Stepping forward again and coming en garde, she smiled, “You shouldn’t talk to Miss Tellith like that.” She backed out of the way as Agnarr and Tor, pushing their way through the door, closed in.

The ogre growled, backing away cautiously. “Kill the woman! Now!”

One of the thugs headed towards Tellith. She screamed and ducked under the front desk.”

“Seeaeti!” Agnarr called.

The ogre was pretty much blocking the entire front hall, so Seeaeti – being a clever hound – leapt through the front window, landed in a cascade of glass on a table, jumped from there onto the floor, ducked under a club swung by the nearest thug, and then harried his leg – keeping him away from Tellith.

Two more of the thugs were heading towards Tor. Tor eased into a defensive posture and then, in a flurry of sudden motion, beheaded the two thugs and gutted the ogre. All three of them fell dead.

Ranthir gaped. “That was amazing…”

“Keep one of them alive!” Tee pushed her way to the front of their line and thrust her dragon pistol into the face of the last thug. “Surrender!”

“No problem! No problem at all! I’m just the hired help!”

Without taking her eyes off him, Tee called over her shoulder. “Are you all right, Tellith?”

“I think so… Is it safe to come out?” Tellith crawled out from under the desk and patted Seeaeti on the nose. “Good dog!”

Questioning the thug they discovered that he and the other two had been hired by the ogre – who had been named Fatok – to provide an intimidating front. (“The ogre wasn’t intimidating enough?” Dominic wondered aloud. “Strength in numbers, I guess,” said the thug. “I just took the cash.”) They’d been extorting various businesses up and down Tavern Row in the name of the Killravens when Fatok had decided that the Ghostly Minstrel was a rich and tempting target.

They cut him loose with a message for the Killravens: Stay away from the Minstrel.

Dominic healed the other two thugs and got them on their feet – they had, after all, just been hired help.

By the time he was done, a member of the watch had shown up. Looking at them, the watchman smirked. “You again? I thought you were keeping your noses clean.”

It was the same watchmen they’d run into so many times on their second day in town. He briefly questioned them and Tellith, and then took the two thugs into custody.

“What about him?” Tee asked, nudging the ogre with her foot.

“Huh…” The watchmen looked down. “Well, he’s too heavy for me to carry. I’ll grab some of the others and come back to haul him out of here.”

After the watchman left, they quickly searched Fatok’s body. They found that he wore an ebon ring shaped like a curved feather. (“We need to get rings,” Dominic said.) They were discussing how they could move him to some place secure where they could revive him and question him, but then the watchman returned with help and hauled the corpse away.

Running the Campaign: Withdrawing in Victory Campaign Journal: Session 35B
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index

Ptolus - In the Shadow of the Spire
IN THE SHADOW OF THE SPIRE

SESSION 34D: THE BATTLE TURNS AGAIN

January 5th, 2009
The 18th Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty

… AND AGAIN … AND AGAIN

Things looked bleak. But then Agnarr, who had been feigning death while secretly being replenished by Dominic’s touch, surged up – stabbing the ratbrute in the back from his prone position. The ratbrute with a snarl of rage backhanded him, sending the barbarian back into unconsciousness, and then moved towards Seeaeti.

But Dominic, with another burst of divine energy, had managed to close up Tor’s grievous wounds. With the vicious serrated edges of raw flesh still glowing from holy power, Tor stood up.

The ratbrute whirled to face him… and then was forced to retreat before his bloody-minded assault. It cried out to the dwarf over its shoulder. “Woreron! Help me! Help me, please!”

But to no avail. Tor cut him down.

The dwarf, having apparently exhausted his supply of spells summoning a veritable swarm of hawks to plague Tee in the air, charged back into melee. Tor, who had been anticipating doing the same to him, blocked the sudden and unexpected attack in frustration.

Ibulli swooped out of the door and up to a level equal with Tee… who promptly released the magic of her boots and dropped back to the ground as the summoned hawks began winking out of existence.

Tor headed towards the spider-thing, letting Agnarr (newly rejuvenated once more by the constant ministrations of Dominic) take his place in the skirmish with the dwarf. Ibulli and the dwarf both fought towards each other, trying to encircle the battered heroes. And then the quasit reappeared as well – darting in and out of invisibility as it harried them time and time again.

But then Dominic dumped a potion of see invisibility down Tor’s throat, and he could finally see the invisible quasit. The quasit, on the other hand — getting ready to leap onto Agnarr’s back — never saw it coming: Tor thrust his sword straight through its tiny chest.

The quasit screamed in pain and tried to pull itself off Tor’s sword… but it was too late. Tor smashed the blade to the ground, cleaving the demonling in twain.

THE FINAL BLOWS

With the quasit’s death, Ibulli gave a wail of pain and re-doubled its efforts.

The combatants circled each other in a furious flurry of blows, but then Elestra emerged from the tower and Woreron the dwarf found himself caught between her and Tor.

With Woreron’s defenses harried, Tor was able to land a blow hard enough to dent the dwarf’s armor. Electricity arced up from the impact and the dwarf grimaced in pain.

But then the grimace turned to a grisly smile and the dwarf took a casual swing at Elestra with his battleaxe, easily sweeping aside her rapier and cutting deep into her thigh.

“A fine hit, youngling,” he grinned manically at Tor. “But what are you going to do once your friend is dead?”

“What did he say?” Agnarr shouted over the din of battle.

“He’s taunting me!” Tor laughed. “He’s actually taunting me.”

Tor swept the dwarf’s axe to one side and killed him. “That. That’s what I’m going to do.”

He pulled his blade free from the dwarf’s corpse with a crackle of lightning.

Agnarr, seeing the dwarf fall, threw his own blade aside and grappled Ibulli – thinking it imperative that the creature not be allowed to flee lest it fetch yet more reinforcements to the fray.

Ibulli struggled to escape. And perhaps, if Agnarr’s massive thews had been unsapped he might have held. But eventually the thrashings of the creature freed it. It began to fly up and away…

… and Seeaeti leapt up onto its back, grabbed the spidery head in its teeth, and tore. The bloated body of the spider-thing collapsed at Agnarr’s feet while Seeaeti landed nimbly a few feet away with the head clenched between his teeth. He padded over and dropped it at Agnarr’s feet.

The barbarian laughed. “Good boy!”

WITHDRAWING IN VICTORY

The invisible Dominic did a quick sweep through the partially excavated building from which the ratmen had emerged, but found little of interest.

Of much more interest, however, was the room from which Woreron the dwarf had come. It turned out to be his personal bedchamber, with a wooden bed, a chest of drawers, and (most interesting of all) a large iron coffer.

The chest of drawers contained nothing but clothing and personal items of little note, but the iron coffer was locked. In fact, a careful inspection revealed that it was double locked – with a second, concealed keyhole on the base of the coffer which disabled a trap on the primary lock. Tee quickly picked both locks and opened the coffer to find several potions, a collection of fancy snuff bottles, a silk purse filled with coins, and a thick sheath of papers.

From there they worked their way back through the complex – searching the bodies as they went. On one of Ibulli’s claws they found a bone ring matching in all ways those they had recovered from the creatures which had breached the Banewarrens and they fell into a brief discussion concerning its meaning. (Was there a connection between the cultists and the activities at the Banewarrens?)

On Woreron’s corpse they found two keys (causing Tee to groan at the thought of the wasted time she had just spent picking the locks on the iron coffer).

On Gavele, they found a note:

LETTER FROM REGGALOCH TO RHINNIS

Rhinnis,

I think we are being foolish. The Brothers of Venom are almost certain to betray us. They seek nothing less than complete control over the venom-shaped thralls. I am leaving to warn Malleck in the Ebon Hand Temple. He must know about the violent treachery they plot. Watch your back until I can return.

Reggaloch

Tee suspected that this was the note she had seen Gavele remove from Reggaloch’s corpse in the apartment complex.

Heading cautiously up the stairs in the tower, they found the second level choked full with Ibulli’s webs. Hidden within the webs they found a small cache of gems and other treasures, including a finely-crafted wooden puzzle locket. Once Tee realized what she was looking at, she was able to quickly undo the puzzle, revealing the locket’s hidden compartment. Within it, they found another letter – this one only half completed — written to the Brothers of the Quaan.

UNFINISHED NOTE TO THE BROTHERS OF THE QUAAN

Brothers of the Quaan—

The cultists’ research into askara has proven successful. I have obtained a sample which I will send with this missive. Its effects are even more potent than we had been led to believe. They have, if anything, improved upon the arts of Jessuk. I think it truly possible that we may have gained the key for both subjugating and using the scum of the natural races.

Although my mission has been accomplished, I shall not return yet. There is another project here – one the cultists believe to be even larger than their venom-shaped thralls. They talk of a huge machine in the caves beyond, and something called the Final Ritual which will be performed […]

Then, in the lower level of the tower they found a hidden compartment beneath the stairs, containing a small bed. Hidden under the mattress of the bed, there was another letter, this one written by Gavele and addressed to Wuntad.

LETTER FROM WUNTAD TO GAVELE

Gavele—

I applaud your sentiments. As long as none of the Tolling Bell are challenged and the work is not threatened, allow those squabbling fools to do whatever they want and spill blood wherever they will. The strongest shall prevail. Chaos shall reign. The Night of Dissolution nears and all acts are as homage to those who will be freed!

Wuntad

Satisfied that they had found all that there was to find, they quickly hurried back up the stairs and out of the Old City.

Their bodies were wracked with poison. The Brotherhood of Venom had lived up to its name and taken their toll. But, in the end, they had little difficulty escaping through the sewers and emerging onto the streets of Ptolus about a quarter mile from the apartment complex.


DWARVENHEARTH RESEARCH

A Study of the Doors of Dwarvenhearth

This is a thick bundle of parchment tied together with black ribbon. These papers appear to be a disparate collection of research pertaining to Dwarvenhearth – a legendary dwarven city referenced obliquely in many ancient texts and believed to lay somewhere beneath Ptolus.

SEALED DOORS: Several dozen pages appeared to have been excerpted from the reports and journals of many different delvers. These describe massive doors found in various locations deep in the caverns beneath Ptolus. These doors are all virtually identical and clearly fashioned with dwarven skills, but have apparently proven impenetrable.

Included in these papers are several sketches of the doors, including an arcano-map of one of the doors (etching the patterns of arcane force present in the doors) and attempts to decipher (unsuccessfully) the various wards and seals protecting the doors.

ESTIMATED SIZE: Another large section of the research appears to be an attempt to estimate the size of the complex locked behind the doors that had already been discovered. It appeared that some of the doors were more than a mile apart, suggesting a city larger than some of the Kingdoms of the East. More than ten thousand dwarves might have once lived there.

THUNDERSONG: There are many myths collected from the Three Kingdoms regarding a mythical axe known as Thundersong. This is one of the great dwarven axes. There are several notes connecting various pieces of research which make it clear that the writer believes Thundersong lies within the city of Dwarvenhearth. There are references to the tale of the Woman Thane of Utarien, a legendary swordswoman of the Three Kingdoms, who the writer connects to the “Line of Queens” associated with Dwarvenhearth in several ancient texts.

CATHEDRAL CAVERN: In the middle of the papers, carefully wrapped in silk cloth, is what appears to be the original copy of a small, ancient painting depicting a subterranean cavern of mammoth proportions. Built on the floor of the cavern are five massive ziggurats. There is a short inscription of dwarven runes on the front of the painting. On the back, written in faded common, are the words “The Cathedral Cavern”.

CONCLAVE OF THE QUEEN: There is one enigmatic note buried in the various pieces of research which reads, “I believe that the Conclave of the Queen is responsible for the loss of the third testaments.”


STUDIES OF AKNAR RATALLA

The pages of this small notebook with a cover of black leather are covered with meticulous notes regarding Aknar Ratalla.

AKNAR RATALLA: Aknar Ratalla was apparently a minor, but powerful, warlord in the annals of prehistory a few decades before the founding of Arathia. References to him in historical records are apparently scant, because the notebook’s writer has clearly had to go far afield to collect much of the lightly detailed material.

SIEGE OF THE DALENGUARD: Aknar Ratalla cut a wide swath through the lands of what would become western Arathia. At the height of his power he laid siege to the Dalenguard at the foot of the Spire. In one of the texts collected here, this siege reportedly lasted for “101 days and nights through the hard winter of the wolf”.

THE END OF AKNAR RATALLA: Aknar Ratalla possessed the “power of the Vested” and he wielded the Blade of Chaos. With these “twin mights” he was “unvanquished”. Nonetheless the Siege of the Dalenguard ended when Aknar Ratalla disappeared and his warriors scattered.

THE TOMB OF AKNAR RATALLA: In the back of the notebook are three scraps of badly tattered parchment covered with various illustrations and dwarven runes. Several pages near the end of the notebook provide a translation of this text along with an extensive and evolving analysis of it.

The writer believed that Aknar Ratalla and the Blade of Chaos were interred in a dwarven-built tomb somewhere in the caverns beneath Ptolus. After what appears to be years of research, it appears that – from the scraps of parchment and other sources – he has reconstructed the secret path that would lead to the tomb.

Unfortunately, the path originates at a place named Kaled Del – a small dwarven settlement beneath the city. Recently rediscovered by the Delver’s Guild, the location of Kaled Del nevertheless remains a secret: The Delver’s Guild has kept that secret in order to monopolize trade with the dwarves.

There are several pages of frustrated ruminations as the author attempts to re-discover the location of Kaled Del himself… but meets with failure.

“I shall speak to Gavele about going to the Guild directly. The Tolling Bell must surely realize the importance of recovering an artifact such as the Blade of  Chaos.”


Running the Campaign: Combat Verticality Campaign Journal: Session 35A
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index

Ptolus - In the Shadow of the Spire
IN THE SHADOW OF THE SPIRE

SESSION 34C: BACK IN THE TOWER AGAIN

January 5th, 2009
The 18th Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty

THE DWARF AND THE RATS

An unnoticed door down the northwestern passage swung open. Agnarr and Ranthir were the only ones who could see a bald dwarf with a bushy black beard and eyebrows emerge. He was muttering under his breath as he circled around the melee raging in the middle of the chamber and ran towards the partially excavated building.

The others were distracted by the quasit, who had reappeared once again and attacked Tee, poisoning her just as it had Elestra. Agnarr did his best to cut the dwarf off, but the thralls were blocking him.

The dwarf wrenched open the door of the building. “Rouse yourselves! Get out here and fight!”

“We only take orders from Gavele, dwarf!”

“Gavele is dead you fools!”

Agnarr wasn’t sure what to do. He was still facing two of the thralls and now there were unknown reinforcements coming. He tried to cheer himself with the thought that Gavele’s men – whoever they might be – would be frightened off by the news of her death.

It was a thin hope, but a better one was coming: Tor returned, charging into the flank of the thralls.

The charge came close to routing them, but then a ratling and a ratbrute emerged from the building. The ratbrute was unslinging a greatsword of leviathan proportions while the ratling lowered another of the dilapidated dragon rifles and—

“Two hundred gold pieces for each of you if you attack the dwarf instead!” Dominic was still struggling in the goopy web, but he shouted out the offer in a voice laced with sincerity.

The ratling hesitated. Then he turned to his companion with a sly grin. “I never liked that dwarf anyway.”

The ratling started to lower his rifle and turned back towards the building.

“TRAITOR!” the ratbrute cried in a thick, lumbering voice. It brought its greatsword crashing down towards the smaller ratling, who barely managed to turn the skull-crushing blow into a merely laming shoulder wound.

The ratling stumbled back, shooting at the ratbrute with his rifle. The shot went wild, but a second shot – coming from the interior of the building – struck the ratbrute in the chest. The stench of burning rat fur filled the air.

MEANWHILE, IN THE TOWER…

Elestra had freed herself from the webs and moved to help cut Tee from hers. But the quasit reappeared again, its vicious claws slashing at her legs.

Ranthir drew his crossbow and fired at it, but it was too small and too quick. Elestra, however, managed to stab it with her rapier. It clutched at its chest, hissed at her, and disappeared.

“It won’t be gone long!” Ranthir cried. “It’s a quasit and the wound was already healing.”

“A whatsit?” Elestra asked.

“A quasit,” Ranthir said. “A minor demonling.”

Tee, meanwhile, had finished cutting herself free. She and Elestra turned their attention to the ceiling and started firing at the spider-thing.

But Ibulli was weaving her spells again. A twisting pattern of subtle, shifting colors erupted from the air in a hypnotic dance of multi-colored light. Tee wrenched her eyes away from it, but Elestra’s gaze became arrested by the display – she stood helpless, swaying gently from side to side.

Ibulli seized the distraction to scuttle back into the safety of the upper level of the tower.

RATBRUTE MELEE

While the ratmen had fought amongst themselves, Tor and Agnarr had managed to finish off the venom-shaped thralls. Now, however, another of the ratbrutes had pushed its way out of the partially excavated building.

Meanwhile, the dwarf had reappeared on the roof of the building. He summoned another of the flame-eyed rats and used it to harry Tor while the ratbrutes moved in from the other direction.

Agnarr turned and raced towards the building, trying to leap up to where the dwarf stood. He came up short, jumped again, and this time managed to grab onto the edge of the roof.

The dwarf, seeing him coming, ran down the length of the building and jumped off, landing behind the ratbrutes. Yanking out a scroll he used its magicks to heal the wounds that Tor had been inflicting on the ratbrutes.

Agnarr shrugged and dropped back down to the floor of the cavern. He ran down along the length of the building, trying to circle the ratbrutes and reach the dwarf.

Unfortunately, at that very moment, one of the brutes cut through Tor’s defenses and ripped open a gaping wound in his chest. In a spray of blood it carried its swing around and struck Agnarr in the back, opening a huge gash across the barbarian’s already abused shoulders and sending him stumbling forward. As a result, Agnarr’s own swing went wild and the dwarf was able to retreat back down the wide hallway running to the south.

BACK IN THE TOWER AGAIN

Tee slapped Elestra out of her hypnotic trance and then headed for the door.

“Tee! Wait!” Elestra called. “Help me finish off the whatsit!”

The quasit popped out of thin air and raked at Elestra’s throat, sending blood pouring down her chest. It hissed with a sneer. “Don’t call me a whatsit!”

Tor retreated back into the tower. Dominic, having finally freed himself from Ibulli’s web, infused him with a wash of divine energy that closed his wounds and soothed his battered limbs and then sent him back into the fight outside.

Ibulli flew down from above.

“She’s flying now!” Elestra cried. “That’s not fair!”

THE BATTLE TURNS AGAINST THEM

Tee, now outside the tower, levitated into the air and tried taking potshots at the ratbrutes… but the dwarf, having safely retreated down the hall from the melee but still with a clear line of sight, started summoning fiery-eyed hawks with metallic, razor-sharp feathers to harry her. Their cruel beaks and claws took bloody gouges of flesh out of her.

Ranthir, seeing that Tor and Agnarr were both badly wounded and struggling against the ratbrutes outside, poured an invisibility potion down Dominic’s throat. “Now go heal some people!”

Agnarr was knocked from his feet. Feeling Dominic’s invisible, healing touch, he tried to get back on his feet… and was knocked right back down again.

A few moments later, Tor managed to take down one of the ratbrutes, but the other – with a howl of rage – smashed his blade into Tor’s armor with enough force that he felt blood in his mouth. Tor managed to barely turn the next blow so that the flat of the ratbrute’s sword hit him instead of the edge (which would have decapitated him), but the blow still had enough force to knock him to the ground.

And then the ratbrute’s sword plunged down, pinning him to the blood-soaked dust.

Dominic, still invisible, left Agnarr’s side and hurried quickly to heal Tor before it was too late.

Meanwhile, back in the tower, Ranthir had been preparing himself to counter Ibulli’s magic. But instead of casting another spell, Ibulli swooped down at him. He stumbled backwards… but not fast enough. The creature’s venomous fangs closed on Ranthir’s shoulder. He collapsed, frothing at the mouth.

As Ranthir fell, Elestra managed to injure the quasit again… and, once again, it disappeared.

Running the Campaign: Ornate Chokepoints Campaign Journal: Session 34D
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index

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