SESSION 46A: AMONG MADMEN

December 22nd, 2009
The 25th Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty

It was mid-afternoon when they left the Necropolis.

“Should we head back to the Ghostly Minstrel or go straight to Mahdoth’s?” Elestra asked.

“Ghostly Minstrel,” Ranthir said. “We need to clean up. Besides, we still have several hours. And the Minstrel is on the way in any case.”

Agnarr grunted. “You need to clean up?”

Ranthir rolled his eyes. “Yes. I seem to be covered in some sort of black ooze. I wonder where it came from? Oh, right! My eyes and my mouth!”

THE BIG PLAN

Once they reached the Ghostly Minstrel they spent a few minutes cleaning up and then gathered back up for a planning session.

Their biggest concern was Mahdoth himself. They knew he was connected with both Wuntad and the Pactlords, which made him an obvious threat. And Ranthir knew enough about beholders from his studies in Isiltur to make them all worried: Eyestalks causing paralysis, searing pain, and even death, combined with a massive antimagic field emanating from its central eye that could unknit their strongest offensive weapons.

They laid out extensive contingency plans for dealing with the various eyestalks – restorative magicks, scrolls to re-enervate their flesh, various potions and enchantments to boost their natural resistances against its powers, and much more of the like. It would be expensive, but it was obviously a necessary expense.

“The ultimate problem, though,” Tor said, “Is that all of these precautions are magical. As soon as he puts the big eye on us, it all becomes useless.”

“We do have some non-magical solutions,” Ranthir said, pulling out the alchemical potions of questionable provenance they’d recovered from Ghul’s Labyrinth. “Who wants to go blind?”

“Do we know if his eyestalks will work in his own antimagic field?” Nasira asked.

“I don’t know,” Ranthir confessed.

“Then we should assume they do.” Tee grimaced.

“It doesn’t seem fair,” Elestra said.

From memory they sketched out a small map of the areas they had seen last time they had been at Mahdoth’s. But the truth was they had no idea how extensive the asylum complex was or how deep it might go beneath the streets of Ptolus.

To supplement their limited knowledge they considered using clairvoyance spells again, but they were concerned that defensive measures at the asylum might be triggered by their use.

Elestra tried to figure out how they could use her homunculi’s ability to pass seamlessly through earth and stone to scout out the complex, but since it was incapable of communicating anything of detail back to her that seemed for naught. Nasira, on the other hand, mentioned the possibility of scrying, but the limitations of the techniques available to her made it seem of little use, as well, until Ranthir combined the two plans: By affixing the scrying sensor to Elestra’s homunculi, Nasira would be able to watch the homunculi’s progress.

INFILTRATION BY FIRE

Eventually, feeling as prepared as they could perhaps hope for, they headed for Mahdoth’s around 9 pm.

On the way, however, they had time for further debate: Did they want to wait for the shipment to arrive and then ambush it? Or should they assault the compound immediately so that they wouldn’t have to fight both the asylum personnel and whoever came for the shipment at the same time?

“I think it’s six of one or half a dozen of the other,” Elestra said.

“I’ll take the six to one,” Agnarr said. “I like those odds.”

They all stared at him for a long moment.

“What?”

They settled on the immediate attack, which naturally opened the question of what their specific approach should be. They considered drilling down from street level into the staircase they knew led to the lower level (and which passed beneath the street). They also reopened the practicality of sending Elestra’s homunculi to scout (and, if so, where and when and how he should carry out the scouting).

Keeping the homunculi as an option, Elestra wrapped them in the camouflage of the city’s spirit. Keeping this camouflage-connection through physical proximity, they strung themselves out in a daisy-chain to allow Tee to get close enough to the building to scout the perimeter.

Through the simple expedient of looking through the windows, Tee confirmed that the street-level portion of the asylum (like the tip of the iceberg above its lower levels) was largely abandoned: Only Zairic – the halfling who had ratted them out to Mahdoth when they had come here at Danneth’s invitation – was to be found there, reading a book in a salon-like area towards the rear of the building.

Zairic looked like an easy target. Tee eased open a window at the opposite end of the room, carefully lowered her longbow into place, and… FIRED!

At the last possible moment, Zairic twisted aside so that the arrow lodged in his shoulder instead of his heart. Letting his book drop to the floor, Zairic vaulted over the high arm of his chair and jumped for cover. In mid-leap, he released a fireball through the window. Tee ducked down as the fiery inciting pellet passed over her head and avoided the brunt of it almost completely, but Elestra (standing in the open further down the alley) was caught by the edge of it.

Most of the others – clumped together across the street and still debating how they could (or would or should) use Elestra’s homunculi – missed the flash of the fireball. Fortunately, Ranthir – who was providing the daisy-chained camouflage near the mouth of the alley – recognized it for what it was. “Fireball!” he shouted, hurrying into the alley.

Zairic called out from behind the chair. “Who are you? Do you know who you anger tonight?!”

Tee didn’t bother to answer him. She vaulted herself through the window and skipped across the room, loosing another arrow that thumped into the high back of the chair.

Zairic wrenched her first arrow out of his shoulder, gulped down a healing potion, and made a break for the door. Elestra, cursing the burns from the fireball, threw open another window to the room and fired her dragon rifle at him. The blast missed narrowly, scorching the wall.

Zairic, in mid-stride, ripped a scroll from an inside pocket of his cloak and gestured through the window towards Elestra. The others were just arriving at her side, and they were all caught in a pounding, painful hail of dagger-like ice that plunged down from the sky.

Tee, deciding to fight ice with fire, dipped her hand into her bag of flames and hurled a fire elemental at the Halfling. Distracted by the fiery sprite, Zairic made an easy target for her as she plunged her dagger into his shoulder and re-opened the magically healed wound from her arrow.

Zairic cursed loudly. Wrenching himself free from her blade he cast another spell, sending his body into a rapid, cascading shift between reality and the Ethereal Plane. “You’ll die tonight!”

“You’re the only one dying tonight!” Tee shouted. “We’re happy to speak with the dead!” Her expert eyes were tracking his skittering, shifting, flickering form.

“I’ll speak with your corp—“

The halfling gurgled and collapsed. Tee’s arcing blade had ripped through half his neck. As his body fell forward, his head fell back upon a flap of flesh and landed upright on his back.

“That’s disgusting,” Elestra said, climbing through the window.

Running the Campaign: Ex Post Facto Roleplaying – Campaign Journal: Session 46B
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index

SESSION 45C: LONG REIGN OF THE SUN

October 31st, 2009
The 25th Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty

After several long minutes, the homunculus emerged from the cloud of black pollen that blotted out much of the hill. They waited the better part of half an hour for the last of the poisonous vapor to blow away.

Mounting the hill again, they easily reached its apex. Set into the ground at the center of the stone circle they found a large iron plug etched with bronze and set into the earth. The bronze etching detailed Alchestrin’s sigil. Around the perimeter of the plug was an inscription written in characters Ranthir identified as ancient Arathian. With the aid of a spell he was able to translate the passage:

Forevermore shall the sun be my foe.

From its light I pass forever.

The doors of my realm shall not open as long as its reign lasts.

“Does that mean what I think it means?” Tor asked.

“That we can’t get in unless it’s night?” Tee said. “Yeah. I think so.”

Indeed, the plug wouldn’t move. Ranthir tried bathing the area in a magical darkness and they experimented with other coverings to block the sunlight, but none of it worked. Elestra then tried to send her homonculus down into the ground, in an effort to circumvent the plug, but they weren’t able to clearly communicate with it or determine if it had found anything.

Eventually they hunted down a shovel from a gravekeeper a fair distance away. Returning to the hill they dug down around the edges of the iron plug, only to find that it was set into a smooth-faced iron shaft that also resisted their efforts to penetrate it.

Meanwhile, Ranthir was examining the magical guards laid upon the plug. Eventually he concluded that their initial suspicions had been correct: Only at night could the plug be opened. The spell was ancient, but still potent – only a powerful wish would remove the plug.

“So when we get the wish spell from Rehobath do we use it on the sealed door at the Banewarrens?” Elestra asked. “Or do we use it here?”

“I think we need to use it at the Banewarrens,” Tor said. “We know how to get through this plug. We just have to wait for dark. But there may not be any other way through the sealed door.”

“Except the key,” Tee said.

“A key that may not exist any more. Or that we may never find.”

They debated staying until nightfall and then going into the tomb. But there was trepidation about staying in the Necropolis after dark without proper preparations.

And then Tee realized that they couldn’t stay: The note they had discovered in the Temple of the Rat God describing some sort of shipment at Mahdoth’s Asylum was dated for midnight. They couldn’t afford to be trapped inside the Necropolis while that kind of known activity was happening.

“We were just deputized, after all.”

Running the Campaign: Agenda Pressure – Campaign Journal: Session 46A
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index

SESSION 45B: UPON A HILL OF CORPSE FLOWERS

October 31st, 2009
The 25th Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty

HOMUNCULI OF THE CITY

They wanted to get an early start the next day, but Elestra was still immersed in her meditations. And Tor had his training at the Godskeep. On the way there, Tor spontaneously decided to stop and purchase a bull whip. He had a few ideas for how it might come in useful.

While they waited for Tor to return, Tee grabbed the morning newssheets. The Columned Row Killer had struck again, but this time it had been seen in the act: A “tall, muscular creature with blue-black skin, glowing yellow eyes, and lanky black hair” had attacked a merchant passing through the Old City Gate. The creature had been driven off by the city guard, but not before leaving its victim in paralytic coma.

With a sinking feeling in their hearts, they recognized the description: It was the troll-spawn that had been freed from the Banewarrens. An evil that had been locked away for centuries now walked the streets of Ptolus.

Agnarr was also able to pick up the mage-touched chain that Hirus had been working on for Seeaeti. While the others discussed the troll-spawn, he took Seeaeti out near the Minstel’s stables and spent some time training him in the wearing of the mail.

Around noon, Tor returned to the Ghostly Minstrel and they went upstairs to check on Elestra. They found her missing: Her communion with the Spirit of the City had taken her on a walk-about through the streets of Ptolus, collecting bits of brick and rough cast which she eventually took to the heart of Midtown and there assembled into a geometrically fractal cairn. This final act of symbolic linkage complete, the cairn had risen up as the animated extrusion of the Spirit itself: A homunculus of the city.

Elestra returned to the Ghostly Minstrel and introduced the others to her new companion. They gathered in the common room for lunch and then left for the Necropolis.

POLLEN PLAGUE

With the information Ranthir had retrieved from the Administration Building on the 22^nd they found the tomb easily enough. Near the apex of a gently sloping hill (which Ranthir’s papers named Darklock Hill) they spotted several stone sarsens jutting up from the ground, forming a rough and imperfect circle. Each of the sarsens bore the sigil of Alchestrin and were worn with age and crept-over with moss. The grass had grown tall around them, and here and there even taller plants had sprung up with broad, shiny leaves and brightly-colored flowers. More disturbingly, they could see the corpses of small animals scattered here and there around the sarsens.

A faint whiff of pungent decay wafted down the hill towards them, but they decided to brazenly ignore the animal carcasses and head straight up the hill towards the sarsens. As they drew near the circle, they could see in its center a large iron plug etched with bronze and set into the earth.

Before they could actually enter the circle, however, Agnarr spotted dark scales slithering through the grass – marking the passage of a massive, coal-black serpent with scales that glimmered like black ice beneath the stars. In its wake, it left a thin veil of frost upon the grass. At nearly twenty feet in muscle-rippled length, it must have been wrapped around one of the sarsens to escape their notice. Now it reared up, gaping a mouth from which issued faint plumes of glittering, icy mist.

Tor and Agnarr moved forward to meet the serpent, but as they did so a sudden nausea settled over the group. The serpent must have been exuding some sort of disquieting aura or perhaps noxious fumes. The effect only seemed to intensify as it focused the gaze of its coal-black eyes upon Nasira, locking her in a paralytic gaze that stopped her stone cold.

The nausea, which sent Tor reeling, disrupted their concerted attack and Agnarr – although largely unaffected – found himself getting bound in its icy, limb-numbing coils. Before the serpents’ tightening curves could draw tight, however, Agnarr was able to stretch his mighty thews and break free, sending the serpent spasming away.

But then the real panic set in as Tor started coughing up black blood and oozing black blood from his eyes. The symptoms of the others were beginning to worsen as well, and with only Agnarr fit to face the serpent, it seemed unlikely that its threat would be ended before they were all unconscious or dead or worse.

Fortunately, Tee – trying to suppress a cough that seemed as if it would rip out her lungs – spotted one of the tall, brightly-colored flowers turning towards them with an almost sadistic purpose. Making an intuitive leap she realized that the flowers – not the serpent – were the true source of the noisome plague. She shouted out a warning to the others while lurching towards the nearest flower, but her weakly-swung sword failed to produce any effect on its thick, armored stalk as she collapsed.

Ranthir and Elestra, meanwhile, managed to retreat to a safe distance. Near the foot of the hill they discovered that they were beyond the plague-pollen of the flowers. With her lungs almost immediately alleviated, Elestra sent her homunculus to start hauling people to a safe distance.

Then Agnarr managed to finally plunge his flaming sword down the icy throat of the ebon snake. Wrenching his blade free he swung it towards the nearest corpse flower, but as he hacked it apart the flower exploded in a massive cloud of poisonous vapor and pollen – a visible blackening of the air that seemed to cling to skin and eyes, clawing its way through mouth and nose and down into the lungs.

Agnarr (at the heart of the explosion) and Ranthir (caught unexpectedly in its edge) collapsed. Elestra, in a panic, rushed in to heal the badly wounded Agnarr… and promptly collapsed from the pervasive pollen of the remaining flowers.

Thus all of them were unconscious upon the flanks of the hill, their bodies being slowly consumed by the plague pollen.

Fortunately, the homunculus continued carrying out its last orders: To carry the unconscious to the base of the hill and out of the pollen cloud. Several of those who were hopelessly ill before managed to recover once they were taken far enough away from the flowers and they were able to tend to the rest.

Once everyone had been restored to at least a semblance of health, they backed off to an even safer distance and then sent the homunculus to kill the rest of the flowers.

Running the Campaign: Monster + Environment – Campaign Journal: Session 45C
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index

SESSION 45A: BY COMMISSAR’S DECREE

October 31st, 2009
The 24th Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty

They emerged from the incense-drenched depths of Porphyry House into the surreal, sunlit streets of Ptolus.

Still gasping for breath, they decided to return to the Ghostly Minstrel, regroup, and recoup.

But when they arrived, the watchman from the Delvers’ Guild station who had been intermittently harassing them since Ranthir’s encounter with a shivvel addict was waiting for them in the lobby. For the first time, they learned his name – Marco – and he asked them to come to the watch station with him.

It seemed like an innocent enough request, so they readily agreed. Marco escorted them to the station and then to a small room near the back of the building. Then he left them alone.

“What’s going on?” Nasira asked.

“Are we being arrested?”

“Should we try to escape?” Tor said.

“We haven’t done anything wrong!” Elestra said.

“Well… we have killed some people,” Nasira pointed out.

“And Tee has all of that illegal shivvel in her bag of holding.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t be discussing it here,” Tee said, gritting her teeth.

THE COMMISSAR’S DEPUTIES

A young woman with short-cropped red hair and wearing a signet with the Commissar’s seal stepped into the room. She introduced herself as Carrina.

“I’m glad you could come here today,” she said. “The Commissar appreciates all of the work and sacrifices you have made for this city.”

“Happy to oblige,” Tor said.

“As your recent actions in the Temple District suggest, you’re already familiar with the recent surge in cultist activities within the city,” Carinna continued.

“Intimately so,” Tee said.

“Just so,” Carrina smiled thinly. “That’s why the Commissar has chosen to deputize you to investigate the cultist activity.”

“We’re already doing that,” Elestra blurted.

“Then it should be no great hardship to do it in the Commissar’s name,” Carrina said. “You will each be paid 75 gold pieces a month, with additional bonuses to be paid at my discretion for tangible results.”

“What sort of results?” Tee said.

“I leave it to your imagination,” Carrina said. “I expect regular reports.”

“How do we contact you?”

“Through Marco here at the watch station.” Carrina pulled out an official-looking piece of parchment and handed it to them: It was an official decree by the Commissar enforcing their deputization and empowering them to act as such.

They didn’t really seem to have much choice in the matter. And although the government pay was clearly meager, it was money for doing something they were already committed to. So they started briefing her; rapidly filling her in on all of the major cult hotspots they were aware of around the city.

“Excellent,” Carrina said. “When can you start dealing with them?”

After some soul-searching, they decided to also brief her on the Banewarrens. If nothing else, they suspected that the Pactlords were another cult and, thus, under the purview of their commission.

Carrina had known nothing about the Banewarrens, but she listened carefully to their report. (Which, truth to be told, was not entirely complete. They edited carefully around the involvement of Rehobath and the Inverted Pyramid.) When they were finished, she promised to report the matter back to the Commissar. “Certainly if you think it to be a cult-related threat, you should act on it as quickly as possible.” But beyond that she saw little reason for panic: It was hardly the first vault of powerful artifacts to be found beneath the streets of Ptolus. Nor was it likely to be the last.

SOMETHING STIRS…

After the shellacking they had received in Porphyry House, they decided that they would spend the next day resting and recuperating. Their stores had been badly depleted and they had some deep bruises to heal.

They also agreed that a return to Porphyry House – particularly a Porphyry House likely to be armed and alerted – was beyond their present resources. So they decided to turn their attention back to the Banewarrens: They would pursue their leads to Alchestrin’s Tomb.

Ranthir, delighted at the down time, retreated to his room and his tomes.

Elestra, still mourning the loss of her python viper, retreated to her own room to begin a long communion with the Spirit of the City in the hope that she might be granted a new companion through whom the city’s voice could be heard and its will made manifest.

Tee spent the afternoon hocking their loot. Nasira tagged along with her and they spent the next few hours chatting amiably. In the evening they retired to the Ghostly Minstrel and Tee offered to teach her the game of Dragonscales. (Tee’s thoughts turned for a moment to Dominic with a sad sense of loss: She missed playing the game with him.)

Midway through their series of training games, however, they abruptly realized that the tiles had spelled out the words SOMETHING STIRS. This was not entirely unusual, but as the game continued the phrase appeared again… and again…

Tee cleared the board and they began a new game… SOMETHING STIRS.

They paused and considered their options. Tee tried manipulating the other tiles in various ways to explicate the message (“What stirs?” and so forth)… but then the message stopped occurring altogether.

Running the Campaign: Recognition as Reward – Campaign Journal: Session 45B
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index

SESSION 44B: TIME TO FLY

October 28th, 2009
The 24th Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty

It was coming from somewhere above them.

Having called whatever was coming, Erepodi started casting another spell—

And Ranthir reached out with his mind and slammed the door in front of her shut. Then he threw another web to seal it shut.

The shutting of the door also had the benefit of freeing Tor from the necromantic link that Erepodi had forged. He felt a little of his strength returning to him.

THOOM. THOOM. THOOM.

It was descending now. Slowly, inevitably approaching them…

They could hear the serpents struggling to wrench open the door, but the web bought them a few minutes in which Tor and Agnarr could just focus on dealing out as much punishment as possible on the two serpent warriors trapped with them.

Or was it the other way around? They hadn’t managed to subdue even one of the serpents before the door was finally ripped open again. The thick strands of the web still blocked their sight, but they could hear that even more reinforcements had arrived. Erepodi was shouting instructions: “Go to the north and the south! Circle around them! Cut them off!”

THOOM. THOOM. THOOM.

“Time to retreat!” Tee shouted.

But it wasn’t that easy. Tor and Agnarr had become thoroughly enmeshed by the vines once again and were helpless to do anything except fight the serpent warriors directly in front of them.

“Are we going? Are we going?!” Elestra shouted.

Confusion reigned.

Tee dashed forward, using the bag of elemental flame to Agnarr free. Even as he was bathed in fire, Agnarr finally managed to cut down the serpent warrior he faced.

THOOM. THOOM. THOOM.

From beyond the web they could still hear Erepodi shouting orders. “You! Fetch Wulvera! And you! Go to the madams!”

Elestra began weaving a spell to summon forth lightning while Ranthir cast a spell to enlarge Tor, which ripped the knight free from the vines as he grew. With all of them at last free to move again, they started to flee out of the vines. But the remaining serpent warrior backed away from the enlarged Tor and cried, “There shall be no escape!”

And the hallway beyond them exploded into more of the writhing vegetation.

As they all cursed, the serpent warrior darted back under Tor’s blade and viciously cut Agnarr down. Elestra, who had been caught around the corner by the vines, unleashed her lightning blindly… where its mis-aimed strikes did nothing except to backlight Agnarr’s collapse.

THOOM. THOOM. THOOM.

Tor concluded that they weren’t going to escape as long as this bastard was alive. He focused everything he had on taking him down… and finally succeeded after a torturous exchange of blows that left him bleeding from a dozen wounds. In fact, even that effort might not have been enough if Tee had not succeeded in directing Elestra’s blindly-aimed lightning into finally striking true.

THOOM. THOOM. THOOM.

It had taken too long. Whatever Erepodi had called to her was tearing its way through Ranthir’s web…

And now Tor could see it: A massive, twenty-foot-tall statue of Erepodi – animated and brought to life.

“Oh gods…!” Tor murmured.

Ranthir, behind him, could not see the statue. But he could hear the telltale cindering of his web being burnt away by the serpents… so he dropped another forty feet of it.

Tor grabbed up Agnarr’s body and turned, churning his way down the hall.

The twisting vines continued to confound their orderly retreat, but several of them had broken free now and were running back across the lounge. Tee, who was still trying to assist Tor’s retreat, tossed Nasira her magical lockpicking ring: “Get out! Quick as you can!”

Nasira reached the door to the long hall of whores and swung it open. Looking both ways she sighed with relief and called back over her shoulder, “All clea—“

The door at the far end of the hall opened. Two of the armored serpents and six unarmored ones poured through. “There they are!”

But as the serpent warriors began to race down the hall, Elestra stepped past Nasira and called upon the Spirit of the City. The end of the hall erupted in jagged, cascading tremors – shaking the serpents from their tails and hurling them to the ground. She had bought them a few precious moments.

Ranthir, his feet quickened by another glamer, came tearing across the lounge behind them.

Nasira tried a door on the opposite side of the hall (hoping to reach one of the secret doors they knew to be on the other side of those rooms, and through those back to the hall where their entrance from the outside had been cut)—But it was locked! And Tee’s ring was already spent for the day!

And Tee herself, for perhaps the first time in all their days in Ptolus, was tarrying behind – her progress completely hindered by the vines.

And that was when the door directly behind them opened and eight more of the serpents were revealed.

Elestra, thinking quickly, reached out through the Spirit and dropped a suggestion into their minds: “Shut the door.”

And they did!”

They could hear a muffled shout through the door. “What are you doing?!”

Tor, who had just come trundling up with Agnarr’s body thrown over his shoulder, grabbed the door and desperately held it shut. Elestra and Nasira seized the moment to heal Agnarr: They needed him to knock down one of the whore doors. But, back on his feet, he threw his body uselessly against the stout door of mahogany.

Ranthir, meanwhile, dropped a web on the north end of the hall to further impede the patrol (who had almost broken free of Elestra’s heaving stones).

And then the door was wrenched from Tor’s grasp… and Ranthir dropped a web on the front rank of that patrol, too. But it was all falling apart and it was only a matter of time before—

Tee came racing up, grabbed her ring back from Nasira, and quickly picked the lock on one of the mahogany doors. Kicking it open she revealed the small chamber containing a single bed that she had expected, plus a whore scurrying in a panic back into a corner. She lowered her sword at the whore and then waved it at the far wall. “Open that door! OPEN THE DAMN DOOR!”

But the whore just shrugged in hopeless terror and confusion.

“DAMMIT!” Tee threw herself at the wall, combing it for the secret door that she knew had to be there.

THOOM. THOOM. THOOM.

Erepodi’s statue had broken free. It was coming.

Nasira dropped a clairvoyance into the secret hall they had entered through… and saw that half of the western patrol had broken off and entered through the secret door! They were going to be cut off!

But Tee finally found the secret door. As it slid open, Ranthir dropped an illusion over it to disguise the opening. Tee pulled out the onyx silence ring.

Through her clairvoyance Nasira could see the patrol enter the hall and check the first door. As several of the patrol entered that room (perhaps to circle around to the outer hall and reach them), they seized their opportunity, throwing themselves through the secret door, webbing the patrol, and then running up towards the hole they had drilled. As she came through the secret door, Tee threw the onyx silence ring at the western patrol to stop them from shouting warnings to the others (who might still have time to cut them off).

Meanwhile at least one of the eastern patrol had broken free from Ranthir’s webs. They could hear him calling out to the statue—

THOOM. THOOM. THOOM.

“The second door! They went through that door! Smash it open!”

There was a splintering crash of wood—

And then they were at the crawlspace, forcing their way through – Tor coming last (as Ranthir released the enlarging effect that had been placed upon him so that he would fit) even as the serpents came slither-racing up the hall behind them.

In a panicked rush they beat their way through the back alleys of the Guildsman District and burst out into the crowded, mid-morning streets of Ptolus…

Running the Campaign: Adversary Rosters in Action – Campaign Journal: Session 45A
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index