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In the Shadow of the Spire – Session 37C: Iltumar’s Folly

May 1st, 2024

IN THE SHADOW OF THE SPIRE

SESSION 37C: ILTUMAR’S FOLLY

May 9th, 2009
The 20th Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty

When everyone gathered back at the Ghostly Minstrel, they met Agnarr’s news regarding Iltumar with exasperation and impatience. They felt universally that they were facing “another Phon”, who would thank them little for trying to extricate them from a situation of their own creation.

“I’m less worried about Iltumar than about the woman who went looking for him,” Agnarr said.

“That’s true,” said Elestra (who had actually met Lavis). “I empathize with her.”

“And she shouldn’t suffer just because Iltumar is an idiot,” Tee said.

So they decided to check out the warehouse that Lavis had been investigating when she disappeared. But they also decided to wait until after dark: If Lavis had been caught, that was proof enough that there were prying eyes that they would be better off avoiding.

While the others kept their distance, Elestra turned into a squirrel and went scampering through the trees surrounding the warehouse. What she discovered was that the building was sealed up tight: The few windows were boarded on both the inside and the outside and the doors – although having the appearance of neglect and dilapidation – were fit tightly into their frames. There was not a single cranny or crevice anywhere on the building for her to peer through.

Ptolus: Warehouse (Monte Cook Games, modified)

When she returned to the others with the news, Tor shrugged his shoulders. “Let’s just knock on the door.”

And so they did. But when they knocked on the front door, there was no answer. So Tee took a few moments to pick the lock and make sure it was safe, before stepping aside and letting Tor and Agnarr take point.

On the far side of the door they found a small room piled high with junk and refuse. The walls appeared unsound and the entire place looked abandoned… but a closer inspection revealed that the walls, like those on the outside, were without true flaw. And there was also a conspicuous absence of any door leading deeper into the building. There had to be a secret entrance hidden somewhere amidst the junk.

And so there was. Tee found a panel on the far wall, concealed behind a high pile of refuse. She also found that it was rigged to deliver a powerful electric shock when opened. She disengaged the electrical connection and signaled that it was safe for Tor to open the door.

Unfortunately, as Tor opened the door, the electrical connection Tee had disengaged swung back into place. With a sharp click the circuit was completed and Tor only barely managed to release the door before the sharp arcs of energy electrocuted him. Despite his quick reflexes, he had still been painfully scorched by the trap.

Tee started to apologize, but as the door swung open it revealed – immediately on the other side – a once-human brute, its face contorted in a rictus of pain. Four multi-jointed, bladed limbs burst from its back and its hands had been stitched into permanent fists and studded with black, chitinous spikes.

The creature’s blades and fists lashed out, but Tor’s sword was already in his hand. Nainsyr flashed in a halo of lightning, performing a nearly flawless flurry of parrying virtuosity. Only one blow, glancing off Tor’s blade, found its way through the defense, leaving the thinnest of cuts upon the knight’s cheek.

But Tee had been practicing her swordplay with Tor whenever the chance allowed, and now she tried out a few of the new tricks she had learned. Sweeping one of the brute’s many limbs aside, she plunged her sword through his chest. The blow sent it stumbling back, gurgling a thin stream of blood. Tor seized the opportunity, turning effortlessly from the defense to the attack, and swept the creautre’s head from its shoulders.

Moving farther into the partitioned warehouse, they found a storage room filled with vats of strange chemicals and mechanical detritus. None of it seemed to serve any sane or logical purpose.

Then they came to an iron door. After a cursory inspection, Tee discovered that the door had been barred from the far side. “I can pick the lock, but I don’t think I can move that bar.”

Agnarr glanced to either side. “We could chop through the walls. They’re just wood.”

But Elestra had a better solution: Laying her hand upon the door and calling upon the Spirit of the City, she felt the portal reveal itself to her. The bar flew from its grips, the tumblers of the lock spun into place, and the door swung open…

… revealing a horrific chamber.

It stunk of blood and ozone and things far worse. Large, bizarrely-shaped machines – with vats and tubes of strange alchemical liquids thrust out from them in grisly protrusions – filled the room. Spatters of dried gore could be seen everywhere. Gruesome tools were hung on racks near several stained operating tables.

Upon one of these tables, Iltumar lay unconscious. His arms rested on wooden stocks to either side of the table and the flesh of his hands had been delicately flayed open. Bent over him was a figure wrapped in robes of red silk. As the door flew open, this figure twisted to face them with an oddly alien contortion. Its face was masked with iron and strange balls of iron hovered above its shoulders.

“The Surgeon in the Shadows…?” Elestra murmured.

The figure held their gaze for only a moment, then – without ado – it raised its hand and vanished.

Only then did they become aware of the other occupants of the chamber: A stunted, hunchbacked dwarf clad in black leathers suddenly cried out. “Master! Do not abandon me! I beg you!” But he was already too late, and with a look of pure malevolence he whirled to face them, ripping a massive axe from the straps on his back. It had been outfitted with strange, mechanical protrusions which hissed slightly as he adjust his grip upon the hilt.

And from the other side of the chamber, a horribly disfigured woman sidled out form behind the banks of machinery. Her skin was a crisscrossed grid of scars and stitches, covering her entire body with a second layer of mismatched flesh. One of her arms had been replaced with a long, serrated hook formed from some chitinous, gray-black substance.

Tor stepped smoothly out of the doorway, moving off to the right to engage the dwarf. This opened a clear path for Elestra to take a shot at the behooked woman with her dragon rifle. The blast caught the woman cleanly in the chest, but scarcely staggered her. In fact, despite the scorch mark it left on her leathery second-skin, the shot’s only seeming effect was to enrage the woman and draw her ire. The woman leapt across the room with a shocking speed, and – with a gleep of concern – Elestra barely ducked out of the way of her sharp hook.

The hook buried itself deep into the frame of the door, affording Tee the opportunity to dash past the woman and come to Tor’s side.

Tor was in the process of deflecting the first swing from the dwarf’s massive axe. But as the blade slid past his face, it suddenly gave forth a blast of scorching steam. Tor stumbled back, his cheeks glistening crimson.

Before the dwarf could follow through on his first swing, however, Tee’s longsword had plunged into his side and deep into his lung. She wrenched the blade free, pulling with it gouts of pinkish tissue. The dwarf gasped for breath, and in that moment Tor’s sword caught him in the opposite side with such force that he went tumbling across the length of the room.

Tee was still in motion. Spinning from her attack on the dwarf she slid in behind the behooked woman. Agnarr had literally plunged his greatsword through the wall from the next room, catching the woman a glancing blow. Tee seized the opportunity presented to slash upward with her blade, catching one of the thick stitches on the woman’s back and ripping it apart – exposing muscle, bone, and spine.

With a silent scream of anguished pain, the woman spun towards Tee and raised her hooked arm high above her head. But Agnarr, having wrenched his blade free from the wall, came through the door and plunged his greatsword through the opened wound on her back. The blade emerged from the woman’s chest, and with a gurgling moan she sank to the floor.

LOOKING FOR LAVIS IN ALL THE RIGHT PLACES

Iltumar was still stretched senselessly upon the operating table. A closer inspection revealed that tiny, chitinous blades had been attached to the bones of his fingers – like some sort of hideous claws. The bleeding from his flayed skin had been unnaturally slowed in some manner, but once Elestra (with Tee and Tor offering numerous suggestions) started trying to remove the blades he began bleeding profusely.

“I wish Dominic was here,” Elestra said. “Should I stop?”

Tee shook her head. “We’ve got to remove those blades. There’s nothing good about them.”

Eventually they had to fashion crude tourniquettes to stop him from bleeding to death. This gave Elestra enough time to finish removing the blades. Once that had been accomplished, she was able to magically heal his wounds – although this left long, white scars running to the tips of his fingers.

“Good,” Tee said. “It’ll be a reminder.”

“Should we wake him up?”

“Not yet. Let’s finish searching this place first. We still need to find Lavis.”

In fact, the others had already been searching the rest of the operating chamber while they had labored over Iltumar’s hands. On a side table they had found a large sheaf of papers with a note affixed to the top of them:

CASTOR’S NOTE

Illadras says that she has shown these procedures to Wuntad and he says they will serve the purpose of the Tolling Bell. They will be providing the appropriate subjects over the next month at your demand.

Castor

The mention of Illadras, Wuntad, and the Tolling Bell confirmed their suspicion that they were once again neck-deep in the affairs of the cultists. The rest of the papers appeared to describe surgical procedures and other modifications. Ranthir had been studying them for several minutes, but couldn’t make any true sense of them. About the only thing he was able to conclude was that the procedures seemed to have been arranged into ten groups.

He had more luck interpreting a separate set of notes that Tee discovered in another corner of the chaotic laboratory. Titled “Cranial Walker Research Notes”, these appeared to be an attempt to reconstruct incomplete instructions for performing a chaositech surgical procedure in which a severed head (possibly one taken from a separate device referred to as either a stasis pod or preservation tank) would be connected to a small, round platform rendered mobile through the support of six 2-foot-long insect-like legs. Optional support for arm mechanisms was also described. Nearby they discovered a partially constructed platform (sans head) matching the descriptions, but the writer of the notes also seemed uncertain that their work was correct. There were suggestions that “further tests” and “experimentation” would be necessary to perfect it.

The chamber immediately adjacent to the operating room looked like some sort of bizarre, mechanical crypt. Strange devices and huge vats all seemed focused upon a central slab of stone about the size and shape of a bed. Various cables and tubes seemed to be designed so that they could be hooked up to whoever might lay upon the slab.

In a small, desk-like niche built into the wall of this chamber they found a large bag of purple velvet sitting atop another sheath of papers. They were delighted to discover that the bag contained 1,000 platinum pieces. They were less delighted to discover that the top sheet of paper was a letter signed with a familiar name…

ILLADRAS’ LETTER TO KINION LUTH

Kinion—

I am sending along my final payment for the procedure along with the copies of the original plans as you requested. I thank you again. I am more than pleased with the results.

Illadras

The rest of the neatly written pages described something referred to as a “burning totality” – which appeared to be some form of “flesh graft” and a “betrayal of the flesh”. (“Chaositech,” Ranthir explained.) The “burning totality” appeared to be a radical and bizarre surgical technique which would “gift” the recipient with a “skin of flame”. The details of the procedure, however, proved difficult to decipher.

But they might not prove so for long. Behind a concealed panel on the stone slab, Tee discovered a leather-bound tome entitled The Book of Greater Chaos. The book represented a comprehensive treatise on the basic arts of chaositech – both its use and creation. Additional chapters discussed the effects, cleansing, and use of taint. (“Use?” Tee asked with a note of outrage.)

THE BOOK OF GREATER CHAOS

And the Banelord labored long in the bowels of the earth. There he crafted a new art, unlike any that had been known before. It was a craft of primal chaos, and it bound all his works of evil and turned their purposes to an ancient bent. Through that craft, the whispers of the demonweb and the counsels of the forgotten sleepers could be heard.

But when the Banelord was thrown down by the First Convocation of the Sorcerer-Kings, the arts he had perfected were lost and their evil went out of the world.

But though the arts had been lost, the crafts which had been wrought with them were not destroyed. Years would pass. Centuries would pass. And through them all the crafts of the Banelord waited.

In time the mighty Titan Spawn alighted upon the coast of the Southern Sea and founded their great city of Lithuin. Their arts were mighty beyond mortal ken, but their thirst for knowledge was greater still. They came to the shadow of the Spire, and there they found the crafts of the Banelord. They studied those crafts until their secrets were rediscovered and then, in their pursuit for power, the Titan Spawn fell into darkness. They convulsed themselves in civil war, and finally many of the Titan Spawn left the shores of the Western Lands and returned to their mysterious continent of mists. The great city of Lithuin fell to ruin.

And behind them they left the craft of chaositech.

While Ranthir continued paging through The Book of Greater Chaos, they entered a room in such total disarray that at first they thought it to be some sort of dumping ground. It quickly became apparent, however, that it was simply a filthy, cluttered bedchamber. Poking through the mess, however, Tee was able to recover a variety of valuables, including a set of strange looking tools which Ranthir was able to identify as chaositech repair tools.

The next door they came to was locked. It was easy for Tee to pick it, revealing a long, narrow chamber with three dirty-grey cots and a slop bucket. There they found Lavis: Tied, gagged, blindfolded, and thrown into one corner.

They quickly undid her bonds. Elestra, who had met her before, quickly made the introductions and explained the situation.

“What happened?” Tee asked.

“That filthy little dwarf snuck up behind me.” Lavis rubbed the top of her head with the memory of it.

“He won’t be doing that again,” Tor said smugly.

“Good,” Lavis said in all honesty. “Is Iltumar all right?”

They shifted nervously.

“Sort of,” Tee said.

“What’s wrong?” Lavis looked up querulously into faces of anger, exasperation, and sadness.

“Iltumar,” Elestra answered.

Running the Campaign: Patron Exhaustion – Campaign Journal: Session 37D
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index

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In the Shadow of the Spire – Session 37B: An Uneasy City

April 24th, 2024

IN THE SHADOW OF THE SPIRE

SESSION 37B: AN UNEASY CITY

May 9th, 2009
The 20th Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty

Elestra hit the streets. Rehobath’s claiming of the “Holy Palace” had become common knowledge. It turned out that Rehobath owned legal title to the Palace, having quietly acquired the property rights six months ago. (“Sneaky bastard!” Tee said upon learning the news.)

But Elestra also learned that the Commissar wasn’t pleased with Rehobath’s maneuver, seeing it as an attempt by Rehobath to consolidate a non-religious base of power in Ptolus. Earlier that morning the warrant of arrest for Sir Kabel had been publicly annulled, a move that was commonly seen to be the Commissar sending a message to Rehobath.

While the news of Rehobath particularly caught Elestra’s attention, it wasn’t the story at the forefront of public thought: Open war had come to Tavern Row. The night before, frustrated Balacazar enforcers had encountered Killraven recruiters on the street. The confrontation had turned to blows and attracted some other low-level enforcers. In the end, nearly two dozen gang members engaged in open violence on Tavern Row before scattering in response to the City Watch.

ASKING QUESTIONS

Meanwhile, Tee had gone down to the Docks. Speaking with the Dockmaster’s staff she learned that the Freeport’s Sword was likely to dock in the early afternoon of the next day.

Ranthir spent the morning hours at the Administration Building, seeking records of Alchestrin’s Tomb.

Unfortunately, most of that time was wasted as Ranthir was shuffled fruitlessly from one ministry to another. He eventually found his way to the Ministry of Public Works and a relatively friendly older woman who showed him to what she thought “might be the proper room”. It was stacked high with moldering stacks of yellowing, unorganized parchment. In some ways, it was Ranthir’s perfect heaven… but it still left him stymied in his search for the Tomb.

Shortly thereafter, Tee caught up with him, assessed the situation, and made a quick circuit. Leaving a few greased palms in her wake, Tee was able to secure him assistance in sorting through the papers. This sped his task somewhat, but despite the help he was no closer to finding the Tomb by the time he had to leave.

THE FURTHER TROUBLES OF ILTUMAR

Agnarr had gone to the Bull and Bear with the intention of finding some armor for Seeaeti. But when he arrived he found Hirus looking pale and wearied behind the counter, with large black pools beneath his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” the barbarian asked.

“Master Agnarr!” Hirus cried. “It’s Iltumar!”

“Of course it is,” Agnarr said. “What happened?”

“He’s gone! Last night I found this note in his room.”

Thank you for everything you have done for me. I go now to live a new life with a new body. I’ll make you proud. I’ll make everyone proud.

—ILTUMAR

“I came up to the Ghostly Minstrel to see if I could find Sir Tor or Mistress Tee, but you weren’t there. Lavis was, though – that’s another lass that’s a friend of Iltumar’s. She promised to find him. And maybe she did. She sent word by messenger that she had tracked him to some warehouse in Oldtown. But I haven’t heard from her since. I don’t know what to do!”

“I’ll look into it,” Agnarr promised.

“Thank you! Thank you so much!”

FALSE FEARS IN WELCOMING EARS

Tor, meanwhile, had ridden up to the Holy Palace. The three-story tall walls were crafted from baroque white marble and topped with crimson-red shingles. Doors two-stories tall parted without touch to give him admittance into a wide, long entrance hall.

He sought audience with Rehobath and was quickly granted it, being ushered into a grand throne room of sorts. Although the throne itself was only of plain wood, its opulent surroundings spoke loudly to Tor’s eyes.

Rehobath looked up at him as he entered. “Sir Tor. It’s a pleasure to see you.”

Tor bowed and smiled. After congratulating Rehobath on his new abode, however, his face drew in seeming concern.

“I’m afraid I come with bad news.”

“Oh?” Rehobath said.

“Dominic is gone.”

“Dominic is… gone?”

“Yes,” Tor nodded. “He didn’t come down to join us for breakfast. When we went to his room, most of his things were gone. We don’t know where he is.”

Rehobath seemed completely baffled by the news. He questioned Tor in particular detail, but there was little more to tell (and Tor was pleased to find that he had gotten through the ordeal without ever telling an actual lie).

“I actually came to see if perhaps you had summoned him. Or if he had contacted you.”

“No,” Rehobath shook his head. “But perhaps he went to the Godskeep. You should speak with Sir Gemmell at once.”

Tor agreed and excused himself. Leaving the Holy Palace, he mounted Blue and rode straight to the Godskeep. There he found things in total disarray – knights were packing, rearranging, and generally discombobulated.

Sir Gemmell, it turned out, was less than pleased with Rehobath’s sudden (and unexpected) move to the Holy Palace. But he was faithfully gathering together the final elements of the honor guard that would serve him there. He was short on patience and seemed to care little for the whereabouts of Dominic. So Tor, after making sure that he should come to the Godskeep for his training the next day, took his leave.

TRUE REPORTS FOR UNHAPPY HEARERS

Tee had confessed to the others that she had spoken to the Commissar on the eve of Rehobath’s convocation and warned him of what was coming. For similar reasons, she felt it important that the Commissar be warned of Dominic’s denunciation of Rehobath.

Somewhat to Tee’s surprise, everyone quickly agreed that it was a good idea. So while Ranthir returned to the Administration Building (with little success) and Elestra went looking for the word on the street regarding Illadras (there wasn’t any), Tor, Agnarr, and Tee went to see the Commissar.

When they arrived at the Dalenguard, Agnarr volunteered to wait outside while the others went in to meet with him. After only the briefest of considerations, Tee and Tor agreed that was for the best.

The Commissar, looking up from various papers spread across his desk, greeted them with a small smile and a nod of his head.

After exchanging brief pleasantries, Tee got to the heart of the matter. “May we speak safely here?”

“Of course.”

At this, Tor nodded, reached up, and removed the red sash hanging from his shoulders.

The Commissar became suddenly solemn. “I.. see.”

“We’re here to talk about Rehobath,” Tee said.

“So I would assume,” the Commissar said.

Having made their loyalties as clear to the Commissar as possible, Tor and Tee quickly went over the details of Sir Kabel’s plan. The Commissar said he had been aware of the approach of the new Silver Fatar from Seyrun, but he was surprised to learn that Dominic planned to denounce Rehobath.

“I don’t think Dominic has ever supported Rehobath,” Tee said. “He had no idea what was going to happen at the convocation.”

“Sir Kabel’s hope – our hope – is that, once the Silver Fatar arrives, this matter can be decisively resolved.”

“I would frown upon anyone seeking to take the law into their own hands,” the Commissar said. “We have had enough bloodshed in the streets of Ptolus of late.”

“Sir Kabel believes that – once the Silver Fatar arrives – many of those loyal to Rehobath will… see the error of their ways,” Tor said. “If Sir Kabel’s strength is large enough, I think bloodshed can be avoided.”

“Are you aware that Rehobath is hiring mercenaries?” the Commissar asked pointedly.

“Mercenaries?” Tee asked.

“And barracking them in the ‘Holy Palace’,” he said. At this revelation the room filled with silence. The Commissar let it rest there for a moment before continuing. “I want no disturbance of the peace. That, above all, is my duty.”

When they left the Commissar’s office, they found Agnarr dicing with the two guards who were supposed to be on duty outside. Although their meeting had been short, Agnarr had already managed to lose 23 gold pieces. He was in good spirits about it, though. He was beginning to truly enjoy the riches they were earning (or, at least, finding) here in Ptolus.

As they were moving off, however, Tee’s sharp ears caught the guards chatting amiably about what to do with their winnings that evening.

“With this run of luck we should head to the White House.”

“I dunno. There aren’t any dumb barbarians at the White House.”

Running the Campaign: No, But… – Campaign Journal: Session 37C
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index

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In the Shadow of the Spire – Session 37A: Dominic Departs

April 17th, 2024

IN THE SHADOW OF THE SPIRE

SESSION 37A: DOMINIC DEPARTS

May 9th, 2009
The 19th Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty

Ptolus - Map of the Chaos Temples Locations (Monte Cook Games, edited by Justin Alexander)

At the gates of the Necropolis, Tee stopped and spoke with the Keepers of the Veil. She inquired after records of those buried in the Necropolis, hoping that they might indicate the location of Alchestrin’s ancient tomb. The knights didn’t keep records of that sort, but they suggested that one might inquire at the Administration Building in Oldtown.

When they returned to the Ghostly Minstrel, a figure wearing a dark green cloak with the hood raised high about its features detached itself from the corner of the common room and came to them. The figure pulled back the hood slightly, revealing to them the face of Sera Nara. Pulling her hood back down, Nara accompanied them up to Elestra’s room where they could speak privately.

“Why are you here?” Tee asked.

“I bring bad news,” Nara said. “This afternoon Rehobath appointed Prelate Adlam as the Silver Fatar of the Cathedral and moved his own retinue into Orridar Palace.”

“Orridar Palace?” Tor asked.

Tee answered. “It’s located in the Nobles’ Quarter. It was originally built by Shay Orridar during the founding of the city. Its construction ruined the Orridars. With the Orridars bankrupted, the other merchant houses squabbled over possession of the palace. It was viewed as a preeminent position of power in the city and the infighting for control was fierce. It became known as the Palace Trade Wars. Eventually, the merchant houses agreed that none of them would ever occupy the Palace. Various people have tried to make it their home over the centuries, but it’s been abandoned for decades.”

“That’s right,” Nara said. “But now Rehobath has dubbed it the Holy Palace and named it as the seat of his false novarchy. Unfortunately, that’s not the worst of my news. We have been gathering our loyalist knights to Pythoness House, as we discussed. Earlier this afternoon, however, we discovered that one of them was a doppelganger. An agent sent by Rehobath to impersonate the knight.”

“What happened to the knight?” Tor asked.

“We think he’s dead.” Nara grimaced. “We killed the doppelganger, too. But we don’t know if he had a chance to send word back to Rehobath or not. If he did, then it’s likely that Dominic’s plan to denounce Rehobath may be known.”

“What about the rest of us?”

“We think you’re safe. Your involvement was only known to a few of us. But preparations were being made for Dominic’s denunciation. It was common knowledge among the knights who were arriving.”

“So… what does that mean?” Dominic asked.

“It means you’re in danger,” Nara said, taking a step towards him. “We need to take you to a safe place as soon as possible. Secure you.” She turned to the rest of them. “The rest of you may come to Pythoness House if you want, but Tor should stay away.”

“That was already my plan,” Tor said.

“Good.” Nara nodded. “It’s impossible to know now how widely known Kabel’s presence at Pythoness House is now known. Or who might be watching.”

Dominic gathered up a few of his belongings and they made their tearful and heartfelt farewells at this sudden and unexpected parting.

And then Dominic was gone.

THE SECOND MEETING OF ALL THINGS

The rest of them labored long into the night. Tee and Ranthir produced voluminous papers – lore of the Banewarrens, chaos lorebooks, prophecies, alchemical manuals, stolen correpondences, and the like. They sorted, compared, and studied these until their minds were numbed and their sense of purpose overwhelmed.

They had an almost impossible number of possible courses to pursue. First, there were the Banewarrens: They had been hired by Jevicca to seal them and by Rehobath to retrieve the Sword of Crissa.

“Why does he want it, again?” Agnarr asked.

“It’s a religious relic. He’ll use it to solidify his claim to the novarchy,” said Tor.

“Just like he used Dominic,” Tee said with a slightly wistful tone.

“Then we’re not going to do it, right?” Elestra said. Tee nodded.

In some ways, however, it felt as if they had been stymied in the Banewarrens.

The green-skinned creature that had escaped through the sealed door into the deeper portions of the Banewarrens had not returned and, short of mounting a round-the-clock watch, there didn’t seem to be anything else they could do about that. And their only other solid lead pointed them towards Alchestrin’s Tomb, which they were somewhat wary of approaching without Dominic’s divine strength.

Then, of course, there were the myriad activities of the cultists and the strange prophecies of the Night of Dissolution. Tee couldn’t quite shake the feeling that they were somehow responsible for it. (“Or were we supposed to be stopping it?” Elestra asked. “Is that what we were doing?”)

They knew of at least three active cultist sites: The unexplored depths of the Temple of Deep Chaos in Oldtown (which had almost certainly been reinforced since their assault), the Temple of the Ebon Hand, and the Temple of the Rat God. There was also the matter of the Dwarvenhearth Research and Aknar Ratalla research they had discovered. And where was Wuntad in all of this?

Nor could they afford to ignore the strife within the Order of the Dawn. The entire affair seemed to have swallowed up Dominic, the true Silver Fatar was on his way from Seyrun, Kabel was gathering loyalists at Pythoness House, and there didn’t seem to be anything any of them could do about it.

On top of that, they had the matter of the Iron Mage’s letter (telling them to meet the Freeport’s Sword, a ship due the next day), the opening of their Hammersong Vaults within the week, the missing Idol of Ravvan, and the need to find new housing. (“Everybody knows where we live,” Tee said.)

Ranthir then reminded them of what Ribok had done to the researchers from House Erthuo. He wanted to claim vengeance on the Surgeon in the Shadows. Tee was somewhat skittish of getting involved with someone they knew to have connections with the Balacazars, but she agreed that a debt was owed.

And – above it all – there was always the omnipresent loss of their memories.

But out of the morass of information they also began to draw some conclusions:

Ranthir postulated that the bone-rings identified members of the Brothers of Quaan based on two facts: First, they had found a letter written by Ibulli (who had worn one of the rings) addressed to the Brothers of Quaan. Second, because in the letter she had written, “I think it truly possible that we have gained the key for both subjugating the scum of the natural races.” “And,” Ranthir explained, “We haven’t seen the rings on any human. Lamias, beholders, orcs, spider-things… (Platypuses.) No humans.”

Agnarr raised the possibility of following up on Demassac Tovarian (assuming that Jevicca hadn’t already done so). They knew he was experimenting with chaositech. “He might even be the one who supplied the items that let the bone rings into the Banewarrens,” Ranthir said.

Based on other letters they had found and their interrogation of Uranik, it seemed as if “Illadras” was running the Temple of Deep Chaos. If that was the case, where had she been when they were tearing up the place? How substantial were the parts of that complex they hadn’t explored?

Could the Freedom’s Key from Pythoness House be used to open their bank vault sooner? They also discussed the possibility of using the key to open the sealed door in the Banewarrens or the bluesteel doors in Ghul’s Labyrinth, but were stymied by the fact that those doors lacked keyholes.

And they’d also concocted a rough plan of action.

THE DREAMS OF TEE

While they had worked, Tee’s thoughts had returned to the conversation she had had with the Commissar on the walls of the Dalenguard. She new that he would want to know what Sir Kabel was planning.

So when the others had gone to bed, Tee slipped out of the Ghostly Minstrel and headed to the Dalenguard, intent on meeting with him. Unfortunately, the hour was late. Too late, in fact. The Commissar was abed and his guard would not disturb him for Tee.

Resolving to return in the morning, Tee returned to the Ghostly Minstrel. Settling upon her bed, she turned her thoughts to meditation and cast them into the Dreaming.

She sent her thoughts abroad, using her recent training with Doraedian to reach out for the dreams of Wuntad. She hoped to spy upon them and glean some insight into his plans or thoughts.

She found them – or at least she felt she did. But she found those dreams wrapped in a fog of black fury and blue lightening. They were blocked to her.

Disappointed she returned her thoughts to her own body and awoke.

Running the Campaign: The Adventure Not Taken – Campaign Journal: Session 37B
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index

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In the Shadow of the Spire – Session 36D: Crypt of Webs

April 10th, 2024

IN THE SHADOW OF THE SPIRE

SESSION 36D: CRYPT OF WEBS

January 24th, 2009
The 19th Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty

Being tethered to the Banewarrens – effectively limiting their actions east of Oldtown – was becoming completely untenable. Their affairs in the Banewarrens required them to seek out Alchestrin’s tomb, but the Necropolis was well out of the range.

To solve the problem once and for all, Ranthir spent the next couple of hours tracking down several scrolls which described the arcane creation of a small missive token that would allow its holder to communicate a brief message directly to his ears… no matter the distance between them.

In short order, Ranthir was able to give one of these tokens to Kalerecent. If Kalerecent’s guard upon the Banewarrens were disturbed, he could instantly summon them.

“Oh, good,” Dominic said. “And we’ll only be a quick half hour away. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

Tee shrugged. “That’s no worse than what we were doing before.”

“The only other option,” Ranthir said, “Is for us to camp in the Banewarrens until the green-haired hag comes out.”

That didn’t sound like much fun. And there were too many other things demanding their attention…

CRYPT OF WEBS

It was only a couple of hours before dusk and the sun was already low in the sky, but they felt they had already wasted enough time. They headed to the Necropolis, aware that they would need to finish their work there before darkness fell.

Once they had reached Darklock Hill, Dominic used his connection with the gods to fixate upon Alchestrin’s sigil and locate its nearest occurrence. He led them to a crudely built crypt with thick walls built from heavy stone slabs. Elestra recognized that these slabs were, in fact, repurposed stone sarsens. Several of them had the distinctive – yet heavily worn – sigil of Alchestrin worked into them.

Alchestrin's Sigil

On one side of the crypt there was a badly rusted iron door. It was, in fact, rusted shut. Tee and Agnarr were able to pry out the hinges and lever out the door with a minimal amount of fuss and noise. On the other side there was a flight of gloom-shrouded stairs leading down about twenty feet.

Tee led the way into a long entry hall strewn with rubbled stone from the broken walls and ceiling. Thick cobwebs were strung from the walls, although there was a more or less clear path to the heavy door of stone that hung half-open – its bottom smashed apart – at the far end of the hall. Four open arches led off form the hall, two to the left and two to the right.

Choosing at random, Tee headed towards the first arch on the left. It opened into a small burial chamber, with an upright sarcophagus standing against the far wall. The sarcophagus itself had been smashed apart. The corpse of its former inhabitant lay on the floor in the middle of the chamber – thick webs seeming to manacle the dried husk to the walls. The chest of the corpse appeared to have been ripped open.

Tee quickly inspected the corpse, but found little of interest. (Perhaps if she had recognized the damage to its chest as an exit wound they might have had some warning of what was to come.) She turned back to the others to report, but spotted movement in the webs of the opposite room. Acting on pure instinct, she whipped out her dragon pistol and fired.

The shot harmlessly blasted away a patch of web, but a moment later a carpet of large, reddish spiders poured out of the room. In the entry hall, Agnarr, whirling towards the spot Tee had shot, was suddenly covered in the things – they bit him repeatedly, sending a rush of painful venom into his bulging veins.

With a roar of rage and a mighty cry, Agnarr swung his flaming sword through the spiders, using the flat of his blade to crush those crawling up his legs.

Elestra, thinking quickly, dropped a ball of magical flame into the middle of the spiders, but they swarmed away from it and over the top of the others – biting at every bit of exposed flesh they could find.

Dominic ran for it, heading back up the stairs and escaping the worst of it. But by the time Agnarr was able to scatter the swaming mass, Ranthir had been badly hurt – the painful, fist-sized welts leaving him gasping for breath.

But when Elestra laid her hands on him and sent a burst of healing energy into his body, Ranthir screamed in pain and collapsed.

Dominic, who was coming back down into the crypt after hearing the all-clear from Agnarr, heard the scream and hurried down the last few steps. “What happened?”

“I don’t know!” Elestra knelt next to Ranthir, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. But her further ministrations only made things worse. Even the slightest touch of positive energy raised vicious welts and gaping wounds on the unconscious mage.

But even as she was focusing on Ranthir’s dilemma, Elestra was using the back of her mind to guide her flaming sphere into one of the other web-choked crypts.

As the webs began to burn, a web-wrapped mummy stumbled through the crypt’s arch and attacked Tee from behind. Agnarr charged the sudden foe, shoving Tee out of the way, even as a second web mummy emerged into the entry hall.

Agnarr made quick work of his first foe: His sword cleaved the mummy’s chest in twain. But no sooner had the top half of the mummy fallen to one side than more of the crypt spiders began to pour out of the severed torso. Tee, in a panic, fired at the already dismembered corpse. This had little effect, but Agnarr – thinking quickly – plunged his blade into the mass and used it to create a sudden pyre.

But with his weapon thus preoccupied, Agnarr made an easy target for the second mummy – who clubbed him over the back of the head. As the barbarian fell, however, Tor moved to block it from attacking the others. As he shifted into position, the mummy brought both of its hands down on the kinght’s shoulders in a crushing blow. Tor could feel his spine compressing under the sheer force of the blow, but gritting his teeth he bore the pain and swung his sword strong.

The mummy’s head flew free… and spiders began to crawl out of its neckhole.

Tee, however, had retrieved a flask of oil from her bag of holding. She tossed it at the decapitated mummy’s corpse while Tor scooped up Agnarr’s sword and lit alight spiders and mummy alike.

SPIDER’S CRYPT

Now, however, the unconscious Agnarr was exhibiting the same symptoms as Ranthir. Any attempt to heal his wounds was backfiring.

However, Dominic – finally given the breathing room to give the afflicted a proper examination – was able to determine that the effect was being caused by the venom of the crypt spiders. Their mystical poison was creating an inversion of positive and negative energy, foully turning the life-touch of the gods to injurious pain.

Fortunately, Dominic knew a simple spell to suppress the effects of the venom. And the mystic properties of the poison were rapidly burning up in any case. It wouldn’t be long before those afflicted could be healed normally.

While Dominic was restoring Agnarr and Ranthir, Tee finished searching through the outer crypts. She found another corpse with its chest torn open (this one with a ruined shirt of mithril which had been torn asunder by the spiders) and in another sarcophagus she found a magical sword.

After much deliberation, however, they decided to leave these tombs (and their meager treasures) undisturbed. The strange, corpse-inhabiting spider swarms had already done enough to disturb the rest of those who had been buried here.

Tee therefore turned her attention to the door of broken stone at the end of the entry hall. Looking through it she could see an antechamber. A mosaic of glittering lapis lazuli depicting a bursting star had been worked into its floor. Twin statues with red gemstones in their eyes flanked a farther arch leading into the tomb beyond. Each of the statues was raising its right hand before it, as if to ward off trespassers. In the tomb itself she could see an iron sarcophagus worked in the likeness of a knight with a sword and shield laid upon its chest. Thick webs were draped from the sarcophagus, shrouding the far corners of the crypt in darkness.

Agnarr and Tor were able to wrench open the door. Convinced that the lapis lazuli floor was dangerous, Tee used her boots of levitation to reach the ceiling and pull herself across to the arch on the far side of the antechamber. Lowering herself to the floor there, she proceeded cautiously into the crypt on foot.

She had not gone far, however, when a gob of web suddenly flew through the air and clogged up the exit. Tee whirled to look at it, even as one massive, chitinous black leg descended from the ceiling above…

It was followed by seven more, encircling her completely. Looking up, Tee saw the bulbous, befanged body of the spider whose legs nearly filled the entire chamber. With a lurching leap, she narrowly dodged the venom-dripping fangs – each of which was nearly as long as her arm.

Seeing the spider descend, Agnarr leapt across the antechamber (barely clearing the lapis lazuli) and used his burning greatsword to quickly cut his way through the web.

But even as Agnarr came up on its flank, the spider continued its attack on Tee – its head jutting towards her again and again, until it finally succeeded in sinking its monstrous fangs into her flesh.

The saucer-sized puncture wounds alone might not have felled the elf, but the venom of the arachnic horror rushed to her brain and swallowed her in blackness. As she fell, the spider was free to turn its fury upon Agnarr.

But by now Tor, too, had leapt across the lapis lazuli and moved to flank the creature – catching it between the party’s warriors. Although their blades had difficulty cutting through the thing’s chitinous hide, and even though Tor was caught fast in another entangling gob of web, they were eventually able to hack the creature apart.

As Tor plucked his blade from the creature’s head (leaving it to collapse in a shuddering pile), Dominic uttered a short prayer to Vehthyl and – seeing that the floor of lapis lazuli was not, in fact, magical – walked across it bravely (crossing his fingers in the hope that there would be no mundane traps). Using his skills as a healer, he was able to apply his curative spells to Tee in a way which avoided triggering the inversive properties of the spider’s venom and soon had her on her feet again.

FALSE CRYPT

Barely sparing the spider’s corpse a glance, Tee quickly turned her attention to the iron sarcophagus. With the help of Agnarr and Tor she was able to leverage it open, revealing the undisturbed corpse of a knight. The knight wore fine chain of elven make. Upon his chest a sword of fine craftsmanship was laid under a shield bearing the heraldry that both Tee and Tor recognized as belonging to the Knights of the Golden Cross.

“It’s not possible that the Knights would have had anything to do with Alchestrin or the Banewarrens,” Tor said.

Tee frowned. While the others replaced the lid of the sarcophagus (not wishing to disturb the rest of a knight), Tee began a scouring search of the small crypt that lasted for the better part of an hour.

But, in the end, she found nothing.

“I don’t get it,” Elestra said. “Why would Lord Zavere send us here?”

“I think I have the answer,” Ranthir said, coming back down the stairs from above. “The stones on which Alchestrin’s sigil is marked are stone sarsens – originally designed as part of a stone circle. They must have been scavenged to build the walls of this crypt.”

“Then how are we going to find the actual crypt?” Tee asked. “Would there be any records kept?”

“I don’t know.”

But now the sun was getting low in the sky. If they were going to escape the Necropolis before night fell, they would have to leave now. Uncertain of what their next action should be, they headed for the gate.

Running the Campaign: Missing the Obvious – Campaign Journal: Session 37A
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index

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In the Shadow of the Spire – Session 36C: Hunting the Hunters

April 3rd, 2024

IN THE SHADOW OF THE SPIRE

SESSION 36C: HUNTING THE HUNTERS

January 24th, 2009
The 19th Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty

Newspaper Masthead: Midtown Crier

CATCHING THE HUNTER’S SCENT

While the others had gone to Mahdoth’s and the Hammersong Vaults, Elestra had been walking the streets of Oldtown. Two stories were competing among the newssheets, the rumor-mongers, and the tavern-hangers. Headlines proclaiming “Blood in the Bathhouse” and the like led stories relating to the events in the Row Bathhouse, while “Vile Rites Performed in Oldtown” spoke of what the City Watch had discovered in the Oldtown apartment complex used by the cultists.

Their involvement in both affairs were not the subject of wagging tongues, but there were other whispers circling through the city: People were asking all over town for “Laurea” (the pseudonym Tee had used with the cultists).

It was nearing the time when they would need to refresh the alarm they had placed on the door in the Banewarrens. Ranthir volunteered to do so and remain behind, freeing Elestra to return to the Ghostly Minstrel with the others.

On the way, they returned the golden key to Tee’s vault and stopped by the Temple of Asche to relieve the en it had placed on her soul. When they reached Delver’s Square, Tee let the others head into the inn ahead of her while she went down into the Undermarket to check in with the Delver’s Guild. There she found waiting for her a message to “Laurea” from the cultists:

YOUR PAYMENT WILL BE IN KIND.

Grimacing, Tee went to join the others in Ghostly Minstrel. But even there they discovered that Iltumar had been asking around the common room earlier that day for “Laurea”.

“Oh, Iltumar…” Tee murmured.

HUNTING THE HUNTERS

They needed to deal with this before it got out of hand. The good news, at least, was that Tee’s true identity hadn’t been discovered. At least not yet. But they feared it was only a matter of time. “They’ve got descriptions for all of us,” as Elestra put it.

They headed back up to Oldtown and gathered Ranthir from the Nibeck Street mansion. From there they retraced Elestra’s steps, rapidly tracking the query-laden trail of the cultists who had been asking after “Laurea”.

They caught up with them in the Boiling Pot, a small tavern in the southern end of Oldtown. There were five of the cultists – easily picked out from the crowd by their prominent tattoos depicting black hands. Each also appeared to be marked by some horrible deformity or mutation. They were scattered throughout the crowd, asking their questions.

Tor and Tee, having barely stepped through the door, turned to look at each other – forming a plan of action in less than a glance. They split off from the others (who were left somewhat confused near the door). Tor headed into the crowd, quietly warning people that they should leave. Tee, meanwhile, palmed a dagger and headed towards a cultist who was draped over the bar, favoring a hideously twisted arm.

Tee tried to strike up a conversation with the cultist at the bar, trying to get some sense of whether the cultists were still asking after “Laurea” or if they had some inkling that it was a false identity.

Tor’s ministrations, however, didn’t go unnoticed. One of the cultists, seeing what he was doing, started crossing the tavern towards him. As the cultist’s hand landed on Tor’s shoulder, however, Tee sprung into her action – her palmed dagger easily gutted the cultist in front of her.

Confusion instantly exploded from one side of the tavern to the other. Two more cultists rushed her from either side, but Tee slit the throat of one while drawing her rapier to run the other through.

Tor meanwhile had drawn his own blade with preternatural speed and leveled it at the throat of the cultist who had approached him (taking advantage of the confusion Tee had created on the other side of the room). “Yield.”

The cultist went for his sword and Tor cut open his throat. The last cultist came running up behind him and was almost instantly cut him down as well.

The entire blood-soaking confrontation had taken only seconds.

Tor turned to face the remaining patrons, who were mostly frozen in shock. “Sorry about that. We were hoping to get you out of here before what needed to happen happened.”

The bartender was incensed. “Who’s going to clean up all this blood?!”

Tee dropped ten gold pieces onto the bar.

The bartender immediately scooped them up. “I’m going to clean up this blood… Now if you wouldn’t mind leaving before the watch shows up.”

Tee quickly had Ranthir write a note (using his great skill with pen and ink to scribe it in a different hand):

PAYMENT NOT NECESSARY.

Using a common dagger, she fastened it crudely to one of the dead cultist thugs.

Running the Campaign: Group Chemistry – Campaign Journal: Session 36D
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index

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