SESSION 29A: WRAITHS AND WARDS

September 20th, 2008
The 16th Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty

“Should we go upstairs or finish clearing this level?”

“Finish clearing the level,” Ranthir said. “You should always finish clearing the level.”

They returned to the rune-encrusted door in the entry chamber. As they passed through the door, however, Seeaeti balked, whining slightly. Agnarr decided to stay back with his hound. From there he could also serve as the rear guard.

Ranthir heard a small, sweetly feminine voice. “I don’t like this place.”

“… I think I’m hearing voices.”

Ranthir looked around with a rather worried expression on his face. But after a moment he realized it was Erinaceidae – his familiar. The bond between them had apparently grown strong enough for her to speak with him.

And the chamber beyond the door was making her very nervous. She scampered off Ranthir’s shoulder and clung close to Elestra’s light.

The only other exit from the chamber was an arch on the far side of the room. Tee approached it carefully, checking the floor for any traps or other protective devices that might be triggered by their presence.

She didn’t detect anything. But it didn’t matter: As she reached the arch, a purplish-red wraith swept out of the next room. Tee barely managed to roll out of the way. Elestra shouted for help. Agnarr came running.

The silence with which the wraith attacked was eery. But it proved to be easily dispatched. Once Tor and Agnarr had engaged it, it only took a few sweeps of their magical blades to destroy its ethereal substance.

They passed through the arch. The next chamber was nearly identical and equally empty, with another arch on the far side. They passed through this second arch and entered a third chamber.

This chamber was nearly as stark as the first two, but there was a pedestal standing on the far side of it. The pedestal was made of stone and carved with a variety of tiny symbols. Atop the pedestal, clutched in a claw-like sculpture of brass, was a purple-red crystal, glistening ever so slightly with its own inner light.

Tee crossed the chamber. She quickly estimated the value of the jewel-like crystal to be several thousand gold pieces at the very least. She set to work meticulously inspecting the claw-like sculpture and quickly discovered a pressure-operated trigger, designed to activate some device within the pedestal if the weight of the crystal was removed.

She had only barely started to disable the pressure trigger when a second wraith came screaming out of the crystal. As it passed over the top of Tee’s head it struck her twice – once on each shoulder – chilling her entire body and leaving flaming lacerations in its wake.

After that first soul-searing scream, the wraith became as eerily silent as its predecessor. But it was just as easily dispatched, this time with a single swing of Tor’s sword. A moment later, Agnarr came running in.

“It’s okay,” Tor said. “It’s already dead.”

“If everything in the Banewarrens is this easy, we won’t have any problems down here,” Elestra said.

“Not if they keep coming,” Tee said.

“You think the crystal is creating them?” Tor asked.

“Or regenerating it.”

As they talked, Tee finished disabling the pressure device. But what should they do with it? Try to sell it?

“We can’t sell it if it keeps creating wraiths,” Tor said.

“True,” Tee said. “Ranthir, can you analyze its magical aura? Figure out if there’s some way—“

Another wraith tore its way out of the gem. It thrust its hand through Tee’s face – leaving five claw marks and a deep chill that left her soul-shaken in its wake (and suffering from a rather vicious migraine).

Agnarr, who had returned to the rear guard at the rune-etched door, came running. While the others dealt with the third wraith, he ran past them and swung at the crystal. The fragile gem shattered in a cascading wave of glass that swept down the entire length of the chamber. At the gem’s destruction, the wraith screamed in rage and whirled towards Agnar… who ripped it apart.

For her part, Tee was incensed at the loss of the valuable gem. (“And then… he broke it… He broke it! I couldn’t believe it… I just… Ah!”)

THE WARDING GENERATOR

They headed west through the entry chamber, passing through the door and entering a large chamber. In the center of the chamber a huge metal device like an iron tower topped with a brass sphere rose at least 30 feet into the air. A spiral staircase of wrought iron on the far side of the room led up to a catwalk of crosshatched grating encircling the device.

The central tower was a cylinder with a 10-foot diameter. A number of jointed metallic extensions, like the legs of an insect, extended out from the tower and connected to the ground or simply jutted out into the air at all angles. The sphere on top of the tower was approximately fifteen feet across. A series of curved, brass plates formed the skin of the sphere, with each plate bearing a single arcane rune etched into its surface. Here and there a few of these brass plates were missing, exposing an inner grid-like support network of metal bars. The missing plates gave the entire structure the appearance of something unfinished or perhaps damaged.

There were no other exits on the lower level. However, four halls – two to the north and two to the south – led away from the chamber on the catwalk level. Directly opposite the passage through which they had entered was another door, also on the catwalk level, which was similar to the rune-etched door leading to the wraith chambers – but larger and more finely detailed. Laying on the catwalk before the door were the dead bodies of several goblins.

While the other hung back, Tee did a sweep through the chamber to make sure it was safe. The goblins appeared to have been killed in combat, their wounds having been inflicted by the blows of a sword. But there were no visible threats in the room now.

Once Tee was satisfied that the room was safe, Ranthir moved in and began investigating the machinery. While she worked, the others moved into defensive positions around the room – watching the various entrances and exits with wary eyes.

Ranthir spent the better part of half an hour examining the device. Then he moved to the rune-etched door and spent nearly as much time there, before spending another few minutes cycling back and forth between the two. Once he was satisfied he called the others over to the door.

He started by pointing at several large runes arranged in geometric patterns across the surface of the door. “These runes, like the runes we saw before, are warding runes. But these runes—“ Ranthir pointed to smaller, more detailed runes that were worked into the larger pattern. “—are arcane resonance points. Like the ones we saw on the exposed walls, except these are actively resonating. But they’re more advanced than anything I’ve ever seen, and they’re interwoven with the warding runes in ways I don’t fully understand.”

He moved to the railing of the catwalk and indicated the device in the center of the room. “The entire tower is a technomantic device. More complicated than anything I’ve ever seen. I’m not entirely sure how it works or what it’s supposed to do, but it’s not working. As far as I can tell, it was never completed. If it was working, however, I believe it would function as a kind of warding generator – activating the arcane resonance points.”

“But I thought you said the resonance points in the door were already active?”

“In the door, yes. I suspect that there’s another warding generator on the other side of the door. The warding runes on the door are attuned to that device. And the effect is to make the walls and the door of the next section of the complex virtually impervious. I think this warding generator is attuned to the walls in this section of the complex.”

“What would happen if we activated this warding generator?”

“The arcane resonance points built into the walls would activate.”

“We’d be trapped?”

“Not as long as the hole we came through is still open.”

“What would happen if we activated the generator and then repaired the wall?” Tor asked.

“Then the complex would be sealed.”

“Couldn’t they just break in again?” Elestra asked.

“I don’t think so. I think the only reason they could break through the walls in this section of the complex is because the warding generator isn’t working.”

“So we need to fix the generator and repair the wall.”

Ranthir shook his head. “It’s not that easy. You have to understand, I can barely comprehend even the most basic functionality of this device. And it’s not just broken. There are pieces missing.”

“Wait a minute,” Elestra said. “Come look at this.”

Elestra had been watching the northeastern hallway leading out of the chamber. Down this short hall she had seen a room. A number of curved brass plates, similar to those forming the brass sphere at the top of the warding generator, lay on the floor. There were other oddly-shaped devices formed from strange metals laying on various work tables or hanging on the walls.

Ranthir spent several minutes studying the contents of this room. “I think it’s likely that these are the missing parts. And possibly various tool that would be required for installation. But there’s no way to know if all the parts are here. And it would probably take me weeks of study before it could be repaired.”

They opened the door leading to the next room. It was filled with broken and rotting crates. Between the stacks of crates a heavily armored man with long silver hair knelt beside the dead body of another man. As the door swung open the armored man looked up at them with eyes filled with rage.

“Who are you and why have you come to this evil place?”

Running the Campaign: Clever Combat  – Campaign Journal: Session 29B
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index

SESSION 28B: ON THE EVE OF THE BANEWARRENS

September 14th, 2008
The 15th Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty

TAVAN ZITH AT CASTLE SHARD

They left. Once they were safely in the carriage and driving away from the Cathedral they talked things over.

“I don’t trust him,” Tor said.

Dominic nodded. “You can put crimson robes on a pig, it’s still not a novarch.”

They needed to know more. They needed to question Tavan Zith, and the only way they could think to do that was by going to Castle Shard. They also needed to know if Lord Zavere was the one responsible for opening the Banewarrens. And, if so, why.

As they rode, Dominic looked at the others. “So… do we have any idea how we’re going to do this without getting killed?”

Agnarr shrugged. “Sure. We ask him. If he didn’t do it, we don’t get killed.”

Tor came up with a better strategy. “We tell him that we respect him. Tell him we’ve been approached about this. But if he’s involved, we’re more than happy to stay out of it. We just want to know that before getting in his way.”

Kadmus was waiting for them at the gate of the castle. He ushered them in to see Lord Zavere. He welcomed them warmly and seemed genuinely pleased to see them.

Unfortunately, their plan fell apart fairly quickly. Tee carefully began working her way around the subject of the Banewarrens – sounding him out on the matter. But then Elestra blurted out Rehobath’s involvement. Before Tee could regain her grip on the situation, Zavere had quickly figured out that they had been approached by both the Novarch and the Inverted Pyramid.

Tee sighed and decided to make the best of it.

“What do you know about the Inverted Pyramid? Should we trust them?”

“It depends,” Zavere said. “Although I have reasons to distrust them, the Pyramid is not entirely monolithic. Whether you can trust them will most likely have more to do with whether or not you can trust the person you’re working for.”

“And what do you know about the Banewarrens themselves?”

Zavere gave them a brief history similar to the one Jevicca had described to them. “No one has ever been able to penetrate them, although many have tried. It’s known that Ghul himself was fascinated by them. He named himself the Sorcerer’s Get and claimed to be a direct descendant of the Banelord himself. The drill I purchased from you would have been only one of many attempts he made to access them.

“Much of our modern knowledge of them derives from records recovered by Gerris Hin, the same loremaster responsible for founding the modern city of Ptolus. Over the centuries, many have attempted to succeed where Ghul failed. Some of them, like Sokalahn, being quite famous. Others less so. But whether powerful or clever, none have ever succeeded.”

“And have you ever tried?”

Zavere laughed. “No. I purchased the drill as a mere curiosity. I doubt it would work in any case. No, the Banewarrens are not a specialty of mine.”

“Do you know who might specialize in it?” Tor asked.

“The Banewarrens have long been a fool’s errand. If you had asked me yesterday, I might have told you that no one was studying it. But clearly the last few hours have changed that.”

“If the Banewarrens have been opened,” Tor said, “I don’t know if we’re strong enough to face them.”

“Neither do I,” said Zavere. “But I will look in the archives of the Castle. If they contain any information about the Banewarrens that might help you, I’ll let you know.”

“Thank you,” Tor said.

“There is something else…” Tee said hesitantly, glancing at the others. “Does the name Tavan Zith mean anything to you?”

It didn’t. Tee quickly filled him on what had happened and showed him the prophecy they had discovered in Pythoness House. Then she revealed that they had Tavan Zith in custody, but had been unable to question him. She let Ranthir explain why and share his theory about how an antimagic field might be used to suppress Zith’s ability.

“Where is he now?” Zavere asked.

Tee glanced nervously at her bag of holding. Zavere followed her gaze.

“Are you serious?”

Tee nodded.

“Very well. Come with me.”

Zavere led them through the Castle, taking them to a small, but well-accoutered laboratory where Lady Rill was working. He quickly explained the situation to her.

Lady Rill lowered a metal cylinder out of the ceiling. Manipulating several devices she created a blue, glowing field of energy within the cylinder. “If you place him in there, he will be restrained and any sorcerous manifestations will be suppressed.”

Tee removed Zith from her bag of holding and placed him in the cylinder. They woke him up.

As Zith opened his eyes, his features contorted into a contemptuous sneer. “The powers of chaos shall make you rue this day.”

“Who are you?”

“I am the sower of chaos! The servant of the true gods!”

“What do you mean?”

“Destruction. Destruction is the ultimate end of all things and the fulfillment of all dreams.”

“Do you know where the Banewarrens are located? Did you come from the Banewarrens?”

But his answers were useless, varying between the megalomaniacal and the insane. After several minutes they gave up. Zavere promised to continue questioning him, although he had little hope of getting anything out of him. They thanked him and Lady Rill both and went on their way.

ON THE EVE OF THE BANEWARRENS

As they passed down through Oldtown they turned aside long enough to stop at the Pale Tower. There Tee left word with the Graven One – asking if any of the Malkuth would be interested in knowing that the Banewarrens had been opened.

Ranthir headed to the Delver’s Guild library and started researching the Banewarrens directly, although he turned up little of substance beyond what they had learned from Jevicca, Rehobath, and Lord Zavere.

Elestra, meanwhile, made a point of buying a newssheet. They were filled with news of the riots in Oldtown, and she found that Agnarr, Dominic, Tee, and Ranthir had been prominently credited with the quick and successful response to what was being described as a sorcerous attack on the city. She also discovered that a 2,000 gold piece reward had been offered for the spellcaster responsible.

Elestra also made a point of digging up older copies of the day’s newssheets, printed before the riots. From these she learned that Gidden Primus, a mage of mild repute, had been found dead the night before in his apartment in Oldtown. His chambers had been rimed with frost and Gidden himself had frozen to death.

Tee had gone straight up to her rooms to snatch some sleep before heading back up to Oldtown to perform her watch duties for the Brotherhood (it had been more than a day and a half since she’d woken up), but Elestra caught up with her in the common room when she came back down around 11 o’clock.

They agreed that there didn’t seem to be any connection between the death of Gidden Primus and the opening of the Banewarrens.

When Tee left, Elestra shapeshifted into a dog and accompanied her. Tee appreciated the company, and they thought it might be useful to have another pair of eyes and legs available if they were needed.

In fact, it turned out that they were needed sooner rather than later. As they passed through the streets of Oldtown, Tee spotted Iltumar sneaking his way back towards Midtown – his watch duties on the apartment complex must have just ended.

Tee warned Elestra and they easily avoided him. Once he had passed, Tee indicated that Elestra should follow him while she continued on to the apartment complex.

Elestra did. Or at least tried to. After a few blocks, Iltumar seemed to become suspicious of the “stray” that was dogging him. Elestra tried to throw his suspicion by acting innocently (sniffing at garbage piles and the like), but in the process she ended up losing him. Frustrated, she turned back and rejoined Tee at the apartment complex.

The rest of the evening passed quietly. When Tee’s shift ended at 6 o’clock they both headed back to the Ghostly Minstrel and managed to grab a few more hours of sleep before the new day began.

RETURNING TO PYTHONESS HOUSE

(09/16/790)

The mansion on Nibeck Street that Jevicca had identified as the origin point for the appearance of the surge of Tavan Zith’s wild magic was very close to Pythoness House. So close, in fact, that they feared there might be a connection. Could the cultists be responsible for the breaching of the Banewarrens?

“If we check it out and there’s nothing there,” Ranthir pointed out, “Then we’ve lost nothing. But if there is, then we may have saved ourselves considerable time.”

So before heading to Nibeck Street, they return to Pythoness House.

They found it undisturbed… until they reached the gatehouse. As Tee passed through the door of the narrow space, the ghostly specter who had assaulted them before suddenly rematerialized. At the same instant, the trapdoor slammed shut behind Tee, separating her from the others.

“Leave this place of evil before it consumes you!”

“Okay.”

“… what?”

“If you’ll just open the trapdoor, I’ll leave.”

“Very well.” The ghost waved and the trapdoor swung open.

Tee grabbed it and held it open. “There’s a ghost! Help!”

Ranthir called up from below, “Did we want to talk to it this time?”

Agnarr, who had leapt up the ladder and had his sword halfway out of his sheathe, stopped. “I suppose…” He sighed heavily.

The ghost, for his part, now seemed to be more flustered than sinister. They asked him his name and he introduced himself as Taunell.

“What are you doing here?” Elestra asked.

“I lived in this house two hundred years ago. I served as priest for the Kollotis merchant family. It was a minor house and its fortunes were waning. It must have appeared weak. One night a band of brigands assaulted the house. They killed most of the household and stole the family jewels. The Kollotis family never recovered. I, myself, found myself unable to leave this mortal plane. I had no greater desire than to see the family protected, and now I seek to protect this house against those who would stain their memory.”

“And the chaos cultists?” Tee asked.

“They came here five years ago. I am shamed to say that I could not make them leave this place.”

“Do you know anything about Wuntad?”

“He was their leader. Among the women who lived here I had a friend named Maquent. She told me that his ultimate goal was to join all the followers of chaos in a common cause. He brought great evil into this house.

Tee grimaced. “He left with it, too.”

“If we brought him back here, is there anything you could do to stop him?” Elestra asked.

Taunell lowered his head. “I couldn’t even stopped him when he lived here.”

“I understand,” said Tee. “It’s all right.”

Running the Campaign: Multi-Threaded Campaigns – Campaign Journal: Session 28C
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index

SESSION 28A: THE MAW BECKONS

September 14th, 2008
The 15th Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty

Jevicca offered them 1,000 gold pieces each for a preliminary investigation of the Banewarrens and identified a mansion on Nibeck Street in Oldtown where the Inverted Pyramid had first detected the surges of wild magic.

They looked at each other, clearly uncertain. Tee asked Jevicca if they might have a few moments alone to discuss the matter. Jevicca agreed and headed downstairs.

They quickly discussed what they had just learned. It wasn’t the first time they’d heard of the Banewarrens. They had discovered the “Drill of the Banewarrens” in the laboratories of Ghul’s Labyrinth, and now they could guess at the impregnable walls that the Skull-King had been seeking to penetrate. And, of course, there was also the prophecy of the coming of Tavan Zith that they had discovered in Pythoness House – a prophecy which now seemed to be coming true.

“There’s something else,” Tee said. She pulled out a thick bundle of papers representing the various fruits of their investigations. Among them was the sheet of astronomical-based prophecies they had discovered in the house of Helmut Itlestein. “Listen to this.”

The warrens are opened. Great evil pours forth.
No seal may be found while the heart remains untouched.

“I thought it was talking about the Warrens, but it didn’t make any sense. Maybe it’s actually talking about the Banewarrens.”

There was more than a little trepidation in the room. It was easy to feel overwhelmed in the face of such portentous history and riddling prophecy. The Banewarrens seemed like an insurmountable problem.

“But it’s not a problem we have to solve,” Ranthir pointed out. “She just wants us to investigate.”

“It’s easy money,” Agnarr said. “We don’t even have to go in. She said preliminary.”

(Dominic looked at him. “Where did you learn that word?” Agnarr grunted.)

Tee frowned. “I don’t think it’ll be that easy.”

“It’s never that easy,” Tor said.

But they decided to take the job. Tee headed downstairs to tell Jevicca. As she arrived in the entryway, however, Elestra walked in off the street. Tee sent her up to talk to the others.

Jevicca was glad that they were willing to conduct the investigation. While discussing the exact parameters of what the Inverted Pyramid was looking for (which turned out to be fairly vague), Tee dropped the name of Tavan Zith to see if Jevicca would know it. She didn’t.

Tee explained Zith’s identity and gave Jevicca copies of the two prophecies they had discovered. Jevicca promised to look into them.

A PARANOIA OF CASTLE SHARD

Tee headed back upstairs. By the time she got there, Elestra had already been filled in by the others. She agreed with Agnarr. It sounded like easy money.

After discussing it, they decided not to go up to the Nibeck Street mansion until the next morning. Many of them were exhausted from the ordeals they had suffered earlier in the streets of Oldtown and there were only a few hours left before Tee needed to go back undercover to the Brotherhood of Venom’s project site.

Dominic, however, raised the possibility of trying to question Tavan Zith again. “I know it’s dangerous, but we could try talking to him somewhere without any people around. Like a ceme— Like a field. A big, empty field.”

“We need some way of talking to him without triggering his power,” Tee said.

Ranthir pondered this for a moment. “The effect triggers a latent connection to sorcerous powers. It’s possible that an antimagic field should suppress it. If nothing else, it would suppress the powers released in others.”

“Can you make one of those?” Dominic asked.

Ranthir shook his head. “It’s beyond my skill.”

“We could talk to Lord Zavere,” Tee suggested.

“I don’t know if I trust Zavere any more,” Ranthir said. “We sold him the Drill of the Banewarrens yesterday and today someone breaks into the Banewarrens.”

Agnarr promptly proposed ambushing.

Elestra laughed nervously. “Okay, who here doesn’t want to ambush the most powerful wizard in the city?”

Hands were raised.

“Jevicca was interested in it, too,” Tee pointed out.

“So what you’re saying is that we can’t trust anybody?” Tor asked.

“Right,” Tee said. “Business as usual.”

There was a knock on the door.

THE SECOND INQUIRY

It was Brother Fabitor, the priest from the Chapel of St. Gustav. They let him. He seemed very nervous.

“Is this about Phon?” Tee asked. “We heard what happened to her.”

“What? Oh, no,” Fabitor said. “That was a terrible tragedy. But no, I have a message for Dominic.”

Now it was Dominic who seemed very nervous. “What is it?”

“A friend of mine has gone missing,” Fabitor explained. “A member of the Church. Earlier this evening I went to the Cathedral to report his absence. I was spoken to by the Novarch himself. I was honored. He asked me to come here. He requests an audience with Dominic.”

“When?”

“He said as soon as possible. It seemed quite urgent.”

“Then I guess we should hurry,” Tee said.

They ushered him out of the room and rapidly made preparations. Tor removed the signet ring of the Order of the Dawn. Dominic put back on the purple prelate robes that Rehobath had given him

They took a carriage to the Temple District. When they arrived at the Cathedral they were quickly escorted to Rehobath’s private office. He was waiting for them there, seeming to bathe in the light cast from his godwood desk.

Rehobath was being attended by three others: A middle-aged, brown-haired woman wearing Crissa’s ankh. A muscular, fit, middle-aged man with a shaved head wearing Athor’s cross. And a young, dark-haired man with angular features and a tall frame wearing the winged serpent of Vehthyl.

The woman introduced herself as Sister Mara von Witten, a member of the Sisterhood of Crissa. The younger man – Brother Thad – eagerly shook their hands. He gushed enthusiastically over Dominic, repeating over and over again what a great honor it was to meet him. Dominic squirmed.

Finally the other man was forced to interrupt him. “I think that’s enough. We should get down to business.”

“Yes, I agree,” Rehobath said. “This is Brother Heth Neferul, my friend and advisor.”

“How can we be of service to you, Novarch?” Dominic asked with a meekness born from feigned humility and nervous fear.

“We live in a time of prophecy,” Rehobath said. “And you seem to have a habit of finding yourselves in the middle of it.”

“What do you mean?”

“The extraordinary events in Oldtown today – in which I have been told you were involved – are the beginning of what will be a new chapter in history. Tavan Zith has returned to this world, and if the prophecies are true that means that the Banewarrens have been opened. Tobias, if you would…”

Thad nodded and took up the thread. “I tend to the Archive of the Church as a member of the Order of the Silver God. There are many secrets recorded there that have been forgotten by other men. Among the legends recorded there is the tale of the Sword of Justice – a blade once wielded by the goddess Crissa herself.

“The sword was lost. But it was said to have been used by a man of great evil to create a place known as the Banewarrens. It is written that the Banewarrens were sealed by the gods themselves as an affront to the natural order of the world… but the Sword of Crissa remained inside.”

“If the Banewarrens have been opened,” Sister Mara said. “Then we have a unique opportunity to regain one of the lost artifacts of the Church.”

“If the sword is within our grasp,” Rehobath said, “It would be a powerful talisman in our cause to purify the Church. I have been told of your role in the return of Tavan Zith. And when the Chosen of Vehthyl is found in such a place… well, it seems to me that the gods have spoken.”

“Of course,” Brother Heth Neferul said, “We understand that such investigations will have certain expenses associated with them. And to that end we would be more than happy to supply you with a fund of 2,000 gold pieces for your trouble.”

They would practically be getting paid twice for the same job. There was no reason to pass that up. They agreed to the commission.

“Excuse me,” Tee said. “You said that Tavan Zith was mentioned in your books. Who is he?”

“We don’t properly know,” Brother Thad said. “But in some texts he’s referred to as a ‘saint’, so I’d assume he was working on behalf of the gods – although I have no idea which of them he may have served.”

“I see,” Tee said. “Thank you.”

Running the Campaign: One Job, Multiple Patrons – Campaign Journal: Session 28B
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index

SESSION 27D: THE MAW OPENS

September 7th, 2008
The 15th Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty

AT THE CITADEL OF MIGHT

Dominic and Agnarr, however, had continued on to the Citadel of Might. At first glance the Citadel appeared to be a rather intimidating fortress, but a closer inspection as they drew near revealed most of the apparent fortifications to be nothing more than a façade.

Entering the building they found a rather confusing scene: Various pieces of furniture had been broken and a half dozen or so unconscious bodies had been leaned up against the nearest wall.

Agnarr grabbed the nearest upright person. “What happened?”

The man shrugged. “They just went crazy. We had to knock ‘em out.” He finished propping up the last of them. “Now, what brings you to the Order?”

“I received a letter. I’m here to confirm that I’m still alive.”

“That’s definitely better than being dead,” the man grinned. “What’s your name?”

“Agnarr.”

“Ah. Right. I remember sending that letter this morning.”

“What was the last job I got here?”

“You having problems getting paid?”

Agnarr shook his head. “I’m just curious.”

“You don’t remember? Did you take one too many blows to the head?” the man laughed. Agnarr laughed with him.

The man checked the guild’s records. “Actually, it looks like you never took a job here. But you’re all paid up. And your locker’s squared away. And you’re alive. So you’re good to go.”

“Locker?”

The man showed Agnarr to a locker in a small side room. Agnarr waited until he left and then smashed the cheap lock.

The first thing that caught Agnarr’s attention was his original greatsword – the blade that had been given to him by the people of his clan. He lifted it with a grin, feeling the familiar weight settle comfortably into his hand.

Putting the sword aside for a moment he looked through the rest of the locker’s contents. There was a suit of padded armor (suitable for practice sessions), a sheaf of blank parchment, and several charcoal sticks suitable for writing. These latter items seemed to confirm that Agnarr had been literate during their period of lost memories.

“You know,” Dominic said. “If you learned it once, you could probably learn it again.”

Agnarr grunted noncommittally. He put the padded armor on and found it to be a perfect fit. And since he’d already put on the armor, he decided to go sparring for a bit. But this left him vaguely unsatisfied as he easily gained the upper hand against the cheap hired muscle making up most of the crowd there.

After an hour he put the armor away, secured the greatsword in his bag of holding, and then returned to the front desk.

“The lock on my locker’s broken. Can you get that fixed?”

“Huh. It must have gotten busted up during the brawl. We’ll get that fixed right up for you.”

THE SHORTEST INTERROGATION

Once Dominic and Agnarr returned to the Ghostly Minstrel, Tee gathered all of them – except for Elestra who was still out prowling the streets somewhere – in her room. Once there, she and Agnarr revealed the identity of the dark elf and reminded the others of the prophecy they had seen in Pythoness House:

The Saint of Chaos shall return and the Banewarrens shall ope their maw. And the name of doom shall be Tavan Zith.

“What does that mean?” Elestra asked.

“I don’t know,” Tee said. “Let’s ask him.”

She pulled Zith out of her bag of holding. Tor bound him securely. Tee blindfolded him. And Dominic healed him.

As soon as Tavan Zith awoke, however, they all felt a sickening, bursting feeling erupting in their chests. Agnarr instinctively smashed the pommel of his sword into the dark elf’s nose, breaking it and sending him plunging back into unconsciousness.

But it was already too late. Dominic’s skin was toughening into a thick, fibrous, sickly grey substance. Tee, meanwhile, suffered a quivering pulsation starting somewhere in her ribs – she felt uncontrollable power surging through her limbs, trying to tear its way out of her.

Then, suddenly, she felt Tor’s hands on her shoulders. “Fight it, Tee! You can fight it!” His voice was strong and reassuring. They were an anchor. She found herself focusing on those words and pulling away from whatever was fighting to tear itself loose from inside of her.

The moment passed.

Agnarr looked at Dominic. “Is that another sign of Vehthyl?”

Ranthir examined Dominic and determined that the effect wouldn’t persist for more than an hour or so.

But now they weren’t sure what to do. Zith was clearly dangerous. And he seemed to bring with him grim tidings. (“Although our saint did kick their saint’s ass,” Agnarr said, patting Dominic on the shoulder.) But they didn’t have any way to control him. Or even to question him, apparently.

The best idea they could come up with was to perhaps toss the entire thing into Lord Zavere’s lap, although Tor pointed out that they had often done that before. Perhaps too often.

While they were mulling the issue over, however, a knock came at the door. Tee quickly gestured for Tor and Agnarr to get Zith’s body hidden out of sight behind her bed.

They opened the door cautiously… and found Tellith standing on the other side.

“Jevicca Nor is waiting downstairs. She’s asked to speak with you. She says its urgent.”

“We’ll be right down,” Tee promised.

Agnarr looked down at his acid-stained clothes and panicked. He couldn’t let Jevicca see him like this. He headed to his room to change. Tor and Dominic stayed in Tee’s room to watch over Zith. Which left Tee and Ranthir to head downstairs and meet with Jevicca.

As they came down the stairs into the lobby, however, they were taken by surprise at the sight of her. Jevicca looked imperious and stood taller than they had ever seen her before. There was a palpable difference between this Jevicca and the Jevicca who came to enjoy the camaraderie of the common room.

“What is it?” Tee asked.

“I’m here on behalf of the Inverted Pyramid. We should speak in private,” Jevicca said.

They took her back up to Ranthir’s room. Agnarr joined them on the way. Once the door was safely shut behind them, Jevicca began to speak…

… AND THE BANEWARRENS SHALL OPE THEIR MAW

“Those who know the true history of the world speak of five ages: The Age of Stars, the Age of Gods, the Age of Sorcerers, the Age of Dragons, and the Age of Man.

“In the dawning years of the Age of Sorcerers – countless millennia ago and long before any written history you have ever read – the Great Sorcerer Ptolus founded the first city of Ptolus. Little is now known of the sorcerer Ptolus, but Ptolus had an apprentice named Danar.

“In time, Danar eventually became a Great Sorcerer in his own right and near the city of his master he built a fortress named Mosul Pearl. The world was troubled then, and Danar became distressed at the great evil that seemed to be growing in its strength. And so Danar sought to rid the world of its corruption. He studied the secrets of  evil artifacts, objects of dark power, trapped essences of vanquished fiends, demonic relics, and even the last vestiges of particularly horrible diseases. He named these “banes”, and he began to gather them from all corners of the world.

“Danar did not seek to destroy them, however. He believed that, if destroyed, the evil of the banes would be released back into the world and manifest again in some other form. Destroying banes would only begat new banes.

“Instead, Danar constructed a vast catacomb beneath the fortress of Mosul Pearl. He named this place Tremoc Korin – the Banewarrens. Within its well-warded vaults he sealed the banes, locking them away from the world for all time.

“But Danar’s goal was folly. Concentrating so much raw hatred and despite – so much darkness and evil power – in a single place was a terrible mistake. The earth itself, no longer able to tolerate the concentrated evil that the banes represented, thrust Tremoc Korin away from itself – creating a tall, impossibly high and narrow spire atop which Mosul Pearl still stood.

“Danar, however, was undeterred. And, in time, the evil he had gathered seeped into his soul. Danar was corrupted himself and his soul turned to darkness. He became the Banelord, transforming his castle to the dark keep of Jabel Shammar, and using the banes he once strove to keep out of evil hands to spread his own evil across the land.

“Ptolus and his city were destroyed by the Banelord. And then, having succored his strength, the Banelord attacked the civilized lands for thousands of leagues in every direction, raining destruction down upon the world and all its inhabitants. In the end he was defeated by an alliance of Great Sorcerers and god-touched heroes who were marked by the Sigils of the Pantheon. From this alliance the First Conclave of the Sorcerer-Kings was born.

“But the Spire remains. Jabel Shammar remains. And it has been long believed that the Banewarrens remained… sealed and impregnable beneath the surface of the earth, but still filled with ancient evils. Many – including Ghul himself – have come to Ptolus seeking a way into the Banewarrens so that they might claim that power for themselves. But they have always failed. The terrors of the Banewarren have remained lost.

“Now, however, we believe that has changed. We detected the surge of wild magic you encountered in Oldtown earlier today and our subsequent divinations reveal that a path has been opened into the Banewarrens. We don’t know how and we don’t why, but we desperately need to find out what’s happening. And we’d like you to do it for us.”

Running the Campaign: Trigger & Stitch – Campaign Journal: Session 28A
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index