SESSION 43C: THE BATTLE OF THE BANEWARRENS

October 25th, 2009
The 23rd Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty

Kalerecent insisted on coming with them as they headed down the excavated tunnel into the Banewarrens themselves. Tee stayed ahead of the light pressing at her back (trusting to her elven sight to guide her), but as she passed into the first chamber of the Banewarrens she discovered a stygian, magical darkness blotting out the passage leading into the generator room.

She waited for the light to catch up and still the darkness didn’t budge. Not knowing what else to do – and fearing what the Pactlords might be doing at the sealed door – they plunged into the darkness.

Hidden in the darkness, the giant spider they had fought before tried to drop on top of them. Fortunately, Tee’s sharp ears heard it coming and she rolled quickly to one side. It scuttled after her, but instead found itself skewered upon the blades of Agnarr and Tor.

The spider collapsed in a spray of ichor. (Tor licked his lips: “Is that ichor?”) But even as it fell, the party found themselves attacked from above by vicious claws and the quiet beating of wings. They guessed that it was the winged lamia, but it was subtler and craftier than the spider and they were forced to fall back.

But as they did so, more of the magical darkness was laid down – extruding itself into the outer chamber and leading to a confused melee where only Tor’s blind-folded training leant an edge against their unseen foes.

Slowly, with Tor’s guidance, they managed to surround the lamia. Once they were in position, the tide of battle turned drastically.

“Nissentar!” the lamia cried out. “I don’t care how hurt you are! They’re forcing me back!”

“Fine, Wiver!” a bitter, inhuman voice called out from beyond the darkness. “I’m coming! I’m—BATS!”

Elestra had gathered the bats to her through the Spirit of the City and sent them into the chamber beyond the darkness.  Nissentar had been caught in a tornado of frenetic flying fur. A moment later, Ranthir followed suit – summoning a faithful hound of pure energy.

Tor, hanging close to the lamia in an effort to keep her under control, was taking a terrible beating. He called out for help. Nasira, still standing outside the area of magical darkness, shook her head. “I don’t want to go in there.”

But she plunged in anyway. They needed her, after all.

They had pushed the lamia back into the generator chamber itself, but discovered that the darkness extended even here. Almost simultaneously, the unseen Nissentar managed to skitter far enough away from Elestra’s bats that the swarm turned their ire against Ranthir’s hound and the flank of the front line.

Agnarr had been holding back in the outer chamber in an effort to protect the spellcasters. But, feeling that the front line had moved into a position where the risk of the Pactlords circling around unseen was minimal, Agnarr charged forward—

And ran into the wall.

Nasira called out to him: “Agnarr! The door is over here!”

Agnarr adjusted himself, charged forward—

And ran straight into the bats.

“BATS!”

But they were completely out of Elestra’s control.

Ranthir, planning to follow close on Agnarr’s heels (without quite following his example), decided to even his odds in the darkness somewhat by turning himself invisible. He did so, leaving only Kalerecent in the outer chamber… just as an ogre came lumbering up the other hallway and dropped another blot of darkness over the knight.

Kalerecent cried out. “The foe is upon us!” The ogre was upon him only a moment later, pounding him with grievous blows (although Kalerecent gave several in return).

Agnarr turned and ran back… out of the shadow and right past the unseen ogre, who hit him hard in the shoulder as he passed. But Agnarr planted his foot, turned hard, and swung his sword. The force of his blow knocked the ogre back across the length of the chamber. It fell hard in the corner… and the darkness fell with it.

As the full length of the generator chamber became visible they saw the spidery Nissentar crouched high upon the wall near the far end of it. And the flayer standing proudly resplendent before the sealed door. (Which, they thankfully saw, was still sealed.)

Both Nissentar and Matha withdrew towards the flayer. They were clearly planning to escape again by means of the flayer’s teleportation.

But Ranthir, with a desperate effort, hurled himself forward and cast forth a dimensional anchor: A beam of green energy shot from his finger—

And struck the wall uselessly.

But Ranthir dragged the beam across the wall, sustaining it through the sheer force of his will, and then forced it to affect the unnatural, purplish flesh of the flayer.

As the green bands of force locked down around the mind flayer’s form, the enemy formation burst apart again. Tor, who had raced across the room towards the spiral staircase leading to the catwalk and the sealed door, attracted the flayer’s ire. Struck by a blast of pure mental force he was left twitching on the floor.

Nissentar, already badly injured, fled in a panic, disappearing into one of the side chambers.

It felt as if the battle were turning their way, but as they took a moment to regroup, the flayer – circling the catwalk – hit them with a second mind blast and then escaped down a side passage, leaving Tee and Agnarr on the floor.

Ranthir ran back into the outer chamber where Seeaeti had been abandoned (forgotten in the confusion of the darkness) and dropped a web across the hall leading to the iron cauldron (hoping to seal the flayer into the inner complex and preventing him from circling around behind them and escaping).

It was a lucky thing that Ranthir did, because it gave him a chance to spot that the wounds on the ogre were beginning to rapidly heal of their own accord. Drawing his dragon pistol he fired once into the corpse, and then (with a fair degree of effort) managed to convince Seeaeti to continue ripping the ogre apart in a perpetual fight against his regeneration.

But this left only Elestra and Kalerecent in the generator chamber. Wiver the winged lamia flew down at them in a savage, full-flighted charge. Elestra screamed in panic, feeling herself little match for the lamia’s leonid fury. But Kalerecent pushed her behind himself and bravely stepped forward to meet the lamia in mid-flight.

A furious melee broke out between the two, with Kalerecent dealing blows as severe as he received. But the winged lamia slowly rose into the air, maneuvering on its wings to gain an indomitable aerial advantage over Kalerecent—

At which point Elestra shot a hole through its wings.

The lamia crashed to the ground and Kalerecent finished it off.

That’s when Nissentar reappeared. It shot a glob of web from its mouth, catching Elestra fully around the torso and then hauling her off her feet to leave her hanging ten feet off the ground. Then it leapt down to attack Kalerecent, but the knight raised his arm to catch the vicious bite intended for his neck and chopped the spider-creature’s head off.

The others began to stir, slowly recovering from their mind blasts. Once they had fully recovered, they quickly searched the corpses (finding a tantalizing key on Wiver in addition to a plethora of expensive equipment), cut off the heads of Wiver and Nissentar, and then organized a manhunt for the flayer (leaving Seeaeti to continue mauling the still regenerating ogre).

Running the Campaign: Running Darkness – Campaign Journal: Session 43D
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index

SESSION 43A: SCOUTING PORPHYRY HOUSE

October 25th, 2009
The 23rd Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty

Porphyry House stood on one end of an open plaza in the Guildsman’s District near the Warrens facing a large, dilapidated open-air rotunda which stood along the Old Sea Road near East Street. It was an elegant, two-story structure constructed of dark purple and mauve porphyry. Minarets rose from each of the buildings’ four corners, and a central dome served as the roof. Its façade was decorated with several statues, bas-reliefs, and other carvings of handsome men and beautiful women (many of them striking a variety of lewdly suggestive poses).

The plaza itself was sparsely populated. A small band of jugglers was performing near the rotunda, and a few others were lazing here or there. No one seemed to be approaching the brothel itself (it was, after all, still the middle of the day), but a pair of guards – one male, one female, and both quite attractive – stood before the large pair of golden doors leading into Porphyry House. These guards were dressed in purple ceremonial full plate, which was both form-fitting and revealing of more skin than would normally seem practical. Their faces were masked by helmets with white porcelain masks depicting beautiful and handsome faces. The doors themselves were fully fifteen feet tall and featured detailed carvings depicting a frenzied orgy.

The party was impressed, but not daunted. Elestra transformed into a bird and performed a discreet aerial survey: She found no secondary entrances and no windows. Even the minarets appeared to be decoratively constructed out of solid rock. The only way in or out of the building seemed to be the front doors.

They thought about simply sending Agnarr through the doors looking for all the world as if he were a customer, but rejected the plan when they considered their fair degree of fame. If he was recognized by the cultists, that could horribly wrong.

“It might not work anyway,” Ranthir said. “They may not take walk-ins.”

“How do you know something like that?” Elestra asked, eying him up and down.

“I come from a city.”

“I come from a city,” Tee said. “I don’t know stuff like that.”

“They may not take customers at all,” Tor said. “I think the whole thing is a front.”

Ranthir agreed it was a front, “But to be one it must take customers. It would be suspicious if they turned away custom.”

Tee agreed. “And it probably makes a lot of money.”

Agnarr was glad the infiltration plan had been abandoned. “Tor and I could just sneak up on those guards and stab them from the side. They’ve got poor periphery vision in those helmets. They won’t see us coming.”

“Where did you learn a word like ‘periphery’?” Elestra asked, eying him up and down.

“What about everyone else in the plaza?” Tor asked. “Won’t they see us?”

“Not if we’re subtle.”

“So… everyone will notice?”

“Where did you learn a word like ‘subtle’?” Elestra asked.

They knew that Porphyry House was engaged in illicit as well as salacious trade, and they doubted the cultists were bringing that other business brazenly through the front door. That meant there must be a secondary, surreptitious entrance somewhere. Probably underground. Probably through the sewers.

They found a nearby sewer entrance at East Street and Hogshead and went down to explore. Unfortunately, they were right in the heart of the multi-layered interstice where the older sewer systems of the Warrens met the newer systems and it was all a chaotic, jumbled mess. If their senses of direction had held true, they eventually found their way to the area right beneath Porphyry House… but found nothing except a few impassable pipes which might (or might not) lead into the House.

ON HOLY BUSINESS

By the time they re-emerged from the sewers, evening was settling in and they were reminded that they had an appointment with Rehobath in the not-too-distant future. They decided they needed to leave and try again the next day, and on their way back to the Ghostly Minstrel laid out a plan to magically tunnel their way into the house from below (if they could figure out exactly where they should be digging).

At the Ghostly Minstrel they used the paving stones they had taken from the Temple of the Ebon Hand to quickly clean themselves, but didn’t worry themselves beyond the bare necessities (they were only meeting with Rehobath, after all). On their way through Oldtown, they took a short side-trip to the alley on Yarrow Street and spoke with Shim. They suspected that once the cultists learned that both the Temple of the Rat God and the Temple of Ebon Hand had been raided, their security precautions would skyrocket. They wanted to attack Porphyry House before that could happen, and the most effective way to do that was to find the cultists’ secondary entrance as quickly as possible. If anyone could do that, they felt it would be Shim. They introduced him to Nasira and got down to business.

“So let me get this straight,” Shim said when they had finished their explanation. “You want me to find a secret entrance to a brothel?”

“As quickly as possible, yes,” Tee said.

“And quietly,” Ranthir said. “We don’t want them to know we’re coming.”

“You’re looking for a discreet rush job on a whore house?”

“It sounds unsavory when you put it like that.”

“Could you keep using adjectives?” Shim said. “I like nice, expensive adjectives.”

They hashed out some surprisingly reasonable terms. Shim promised to bring them whatever he found first thing in the morning.

Throughout the conversation, however, Tor’s thoughts had been distracted by their upcoming meeting with Rehobath. They didn’t know what he wanted, but if their connection with Sir Kabel had been discovered then there was every possibility that they were walking into a trap.

So Tor asked Shim: “Do you have any idea why Rehobath might want to meet with us?”

“Fifty gold crowns.”

Tor shrugged and paid it.

“I’d guess it probably has something to do with your friend Dominic.”

Which it did.

They arrived at the Holy Palace to find it now staffed with servants in the livery of the novarch. The entire building was filled with a greater sense of pomp and circumstance than when Tor had first visited it only a few days before. They were led down a long hall upon a carpet of red and gold, passing between the great curves of two balustraded stairways, and through a door into the minimalist grandeur of Rehobath’s throne room.

When they arrived, Rehobath was surrounded by a number of functionaries. But he sent these away and spoke with them privately, keeping only a few guards at the far end of the hall.

“You have heard, I am sure, of what your friend Dominic has done?” Rehobath said, eyeing them with either suspicion or calculation.

The news was all over the city, so there seemed little risk in admitting it.

Rehobath gave them a report from one of his “house servants” (in other words, one of his spies). It detailed Dominic’s appearance in Empress Square the day before in much greater detail than the news reports they had been able to collect themselves.

“Did you know this was going to happen?” Rehobath demanded.

“Of course not,” Tor said.

“It doesn’t even sound like something that Dominic would say,” Tee said.

(“Well, maybe that last bit,” Elestra muttered.)

Rehobath looked sharply at her. “You think he may have fallen under the control of the traitors?”

“Perhaps,” Tee said. “Or it might not be Dominic at all. It could be an impostor. Or an illusion.”

“Yes…” Rehobath said, his eyes drifting into shrewd thoughtfulness. “That will serve… It might even be true.”

With a final nod, Rehobath changed the topic to the Banewarrens. They gave him a mildly edited account of their progress (particularly neglecting to mention the details of the legend lore spell Ranthir had cast). When Rehobath learned that they were waiting for a wish spell, however, he promised to expedite the matter with Heth Neferul.

From the moment they passed into the Holy Palace, Nasira’s nervousness had grown. Who, exactly, had she agreed to work with? And why did they seem so close to this freshly-minted novarch? Were they truly allies of Rehobath? But as their conversation continued, she became more convinced that the others were playing at some deeper agenda. At the very least, their travails together had instilled her with some trust of them. She would wait to hear their explanation.

Running the Campaign: It’s Gotta Be Here! – Campaign Journal: Session 43B
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index

SESSION 42A: RAT MOTHERS

October 17th, 2009
The 23rd Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty

They burned their way through Ranthir’s web and passed into another trash-filled chamber. Rising out of the trash on the far side of the chamber, however, was a ten-foot-tall stone statue of a ratling. Its head was lowered, staring into the dark depths of a wide sinkhole that lay at its feet.

They were wary of the statue – thinking perhaps that it was cursed, enchanted, or trapped in some way – but ultimately chose to investigate it. In a hidden compartment at the rear base of the statue, Tee found three scroll cases: One contained a stack of gold and silver coins; another a copy of the Truth of the Hidden God; and the third an arcane scroll.

Uncertain of what might emerge from the sinkhole if they left it at their backs, Tor quickly tied a rope around Tee’s waist and lowered her into the darkness. The sinkhole bottomed out into a large, conical cavern. Near the limit of the light she carried, Tee could see a couple passages twisting away from the cavern. On the large wall nearest her she could see cave paintings: Rat-shaped humanoids worshipped a huge, bulbous rat. Gouts of flame seemed to erupt from the rat’s sides, and in the midst of the flames Tee could see white rats dancing in the infernos.

Something about the painting disturbed her deeply, and after studying it for a few long moments she tugged twice on the rope – giving the signal to draw her back up.

After Tee had described what she had seen, they discussed their options. Ranthir, as was his wont, strongly opposed delving deeper before finishing the exploration of the current level of the nests. Besides, they suspected that they were on a level with the Midtown sewers – delving deeper into the caverns beneath the city wouldn’t get them where they wanted to go.

THE MOTHERS

Leaving the chamber with the statue, they passed through the far end of a long hall filled high with even more of the rats’ garbage. Tee passed silently over the surface, but, of course, Agnarr and Tor made an unearthly racket wading their way through. In the process, they attracted the attention of several large rodents which emerged out of the trash heaps: They had pale, chalk-like fur and eyes which glowed like fierce embers of flame.

“Who’s there?”

The voice came from the direction they had been heading. A huge, lumbering ratbrute emerged from the shadows.

Tee turned to face him. “We’re looking for the sewers.”

“Who are you?”

“Silion sent us to the southern sewers. We have business with Porphyry House.”

A befuddled look passed over the ratbrute’s features (which was surprising, considering how befuddled they already looked). “I guess if Silion sent you…”

“That’s right,” Tee nodded encouragingly. “Now, where can we find the sewer?”

“There’s an entrance beyond the mothers.”

“Where are the mothers?”

“Right over here.” The ratbrute turned and started lumbering back the way it had come.

Tee looked back at the others as if to say “I can’t believe that worked” and then, with a shrug, followed the ratbrute.

The passage he took them down was relatively broad and surprisingly free from debris. They passed another of the tattered blue curtains, and Tee took a moment to poke her head through it: The chamber beyond was unnaturally chill and contained a variety of bloated corpses – dogs, birds, cats… and a few humans. The bodies had been variously dismembered, with a few pieces here and there having obvious gnaw-marks on them. (Ranthir identified the chill as coming from a simple cantrip, most likely cast here to permanently keep the room cool enough to preserve the “meat”.)

“Are you coming?” The ratbrute looked at them curiously.

“Of course,” Tee said. Hurrying after him, she drew her sword and pointed it at the ratbrute’s clueless back.

Pushing through another blue curtain, they emerged into a large chamber containing several of the now familiar ratling nests… along with half a dozen female ratlings. The mothers. Everyone froze: Ratlings staring at humans; humans staring at ratlings.

“Tattum! What have you done?!”

The mothers scattered. Tee stabbed Tattum in the back.

Tattum, roaring in pain, drew his greatsword in a massive sweep that caught Tee with the flat of the blade and sent her staggering.

Nasira, meanwhile, noticed that several of the chalk-white rats from the hall of refuse had been following them. She was about to call out a warning when the melee broke out.

And then the chalk-white rats burst into balls of bright flame.

As Tee fell back towards Nasira, one of the flaming rats – pouring inky black smoke into the air – spit a ball of fire at Nasira, catching her full in the chest. Agnarr and Tor, meanwhile, were moving up to form a line against the enraged Tattum.

Several of the mothers had dashed out of the room through other exits, while others circled around the melee shaping up at the cave mouth – dashing in and delivering blows whenever they found an opening.

Tor managed to inflict a few deep wounds on Tattum’s massive frame, but then one of the mothers managed to latch onto his arm. Another, going low, sunk her teeth into his leg. Tattum, seizing the momentary advantage, found a chink in Tor’s armor and, ripping the blade free, caught Agnarr with a devastating back-swing.

Elestra dove forward, pouring the strength of the Spirit of the City into Agnarr’s wounds. Tattum, thinking Agnarr dispatched, stepped over him to take another swing at the badly injured Tor—

And Agnarr plunged his blade up through the ratbrute’s crotch.

(Which was becoming something of a habit.)

Tattum stumbled backwards as another ratbrute pushed through the curtain on the far side of the room. “Tattum! What the hell is going on?! If you’re in another—Oh shit! Fudd! Get out here!”

Fudd, a third ratbrute, pushed his way through the curtain. “What has he done now, Berq? … Oh shit!”

As Tattum fell for the last time, Fudd and Berq rushed Agnarr and Tor. Agnarr, however, was in the full heat and flow of the battle. He stepped forward and in a series of smooth blows that looked like perfect arcs of flame dropped Fudd in his tracks. Berq was more cautious, however, and moved into a careful dance of blades with the two fighters.

The blue curtain swept aside once more, revealing an aging albino ratling. He lowered a dragon pistol and fired, but Tor narrowly dodged the blast (which passed harmlessly over Tee, who was finishing off the last of the ash rats with Ranthir and Nasira).

As the separate melees raged, punctuated with blasts from the albino ratling’s dragon pistol, the mothers who had fled into a side-chamber returned – each bearing ratling babes in her arms. The albino ratling cried out to them, “Flee! Run as fast as you can!”

But Ranthir, upon hearing the word “flee”, whirled around and webbed the far side of the room: The mothers, the albino, and Berq were all helplessly caught – except for one mother, trapped in the corner, who futilely screamed for help in her despair. Tor closed on her and ruthlessly killed both her and the baby ratlings.

Agnarr, meanwhile, was finishing off Berq. This gave the albino ratling enough time to rip his own way free from the web. Cutting another mother free, he took her and ran for it.

Tor and Tee chased him down, but before he was killed, the albino managed to buy enough time for the mother to escape into the effervescent chamber of the true temple. Tor and Tee skidded to a halt and cautiously retreated back the way they had come.

Several of the mothers were still trapped in the web. Tee was able to broker a bargain in which they would be freed if one of them would lead the party to the southern sewer entrance. While the mothers were carefully freed from the web, Tor started discreetly taking ears and fingers from the dead as trophies. Meanwhile, Elestra distracted the ratlings with small talk to keep them from noticing Tee looting the coffers of the nest master (which were filled with gems, jewelry, and large amounts of coin; although given the bones and skulls dangling from the ceiling, Tee didn’t want to spend too much time thinking about where it had all come from).

Running the Campaign: Killing Orc Babies – Campaign Journal: Session 42B
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index