SESSION 43D: ESCAPADES OF THE OGRE

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

SEEKING THE FLAYER

Ranthir had a wand which allowed him to weave magical alarms. Moving systematically through the Banewarrens they laid down alarms at every major intersection, slowly cordoning off the complex. Ranthir also laid a glamer upon his eyes allowing him to see the hidden and the invisible, while Tee kept her sharp elven nose alert for any tell-tale scents.

They eventually reached the room with the massive iron cauldron. Activating her boots of levitation, Tee carried Ranthir up to look into the cauldron… and they spotted the flayer laying at the cauldron’s bottom.

But even in that instant, the flayer reached out into their minds and whispered, “Pass on. You see me not.”

“Yes I do!” Tee cried. And shot him.

The flayer lashed out with a mind blast, causing Tee to fall into the cauldron and Ranthir to land on the floor beside it.

Nasira hit the bottom of the cauldron with a spell that would heat the metal to dangerously hot temperatures. Unfortunately, the immense size of the cauldron delayed the effect to some extent.

Agnarr threw a rope over the top of the cauldron and braced it, allowing Tor to rapidly climb up to the cauldron’s lip… where he was promptly hit with a mind blast and fell backwards off the cauldron, striking his head on the floor as he fell into epileptic twitches.

Agnarr carefully backed up and then ran for the cauldron, leaping up to catch the rim and then hauling himself up. The flayer tried to hit him with another mind blast, but he shook it off and jumped down into the cauldron. Once there, he saw that, although Tee was beginning to burn from the heat of the metal (and the soles of his own feet were sore from it), the flayer was calmly floating three inches above the metal’s surface.

“Flying bastard!” Agnarr roared. “Flying squid bastard!”

In a few short, slashing blows from his sword he sliced the flayer up – its purplish-red blood spattering to boil upon the ever-heating metal. In the end, it was reduced to a pool of coagulate gore… which predictably soaked up into the back of Tee’s shirt before Agnarr finally picked her up and hauled her out of the cauldron.

ESCAPADES OF THE OGRE

With the flayer safely dead, they returned to the outer chamber where Elestra and Kalerecent were keeping an eye on Seeaeti and the mauled-but-still-regenerating ogre.

“Are we sure the flayer’s dead?” Elestra asked.

“Pretty sure,” Tor said.

“But is it regenerating like this one?”

Agnarr grunted. “Tee, turn around.”

Tee did.

“Okay, you see those squid guts all over her? It’s dead.”

Tee rolled her eyes. “Thanks, Agnarr.”

Agnarr called Seeaeti off the ogre so that it could successfully regenerate. They wanted to question it.

But when it woke up, it was the one asking the questions. “Who are you?”

They naturally refused to answer. But although they tried to question it, threaten it, intimidate it, and scare it, the ogre just kept on asking questions. “Who sent you? What do you want?” And so forth.

But they resolutely refused to answer.

“Ah,” the ogre said at last. “I see I will learn nothing here.”

And it turned into a gas… and then the gas itself vanished.

Nasira uttered a holy oath, banishing the invisibility effect. But this only resulted in causing the gas to reappear. Agnarr and Tor ran forward to attack it –  and they may have even caused some damage to it as their swords ripped through it in arcs of fire and electricity (although, on the other hand, perhaps it was only wishful thinking on their part) – but then a magical darkness popped into existence.

There was mass confusion: Tor became convinced that he had the ogre cornered (although it turned out he was only cutting away at empty air). Tee raced to block the entrance to the Banewarrens, but more darkness popped up. Then one of the alarm spells Ranthir had laid went off and they all rushed to the spot to find… nothing at all. A few moments late another alarm went off back in the antechamber and they realized that they had been completely outmaneuvered. Although they pursued him down the tunnel, the ogre had disappeared.

MORNING MISSIVES

In the morning Ranthir tracked down two scrolls detailing the creation of missive tokens. One he used to create a new missive token for Kalerecent to make sure the Banewarrens remained secure; the other he would study so that he could create them at will in the future.

The morning newssheets reported that, prior to the Midtown kidnapping, children had been disappearing from the Warrens for weeks… but no one had been reporting on it. (It was just the Warrens, after all.)

The more sensational headlines, however, reported three more killings on the Columned Row in Oldtown. Like the priest the night before, the victims had had their heads ripped open.

“Did we do that?” Elestra asked.

“No. I’m pretty sure—Wait, when did it happen? No, that wasn’t us.”

The murderer was being referred to as the “Columned Row Killer”.

Not long after, Shim reported to them. Physical scouting around Porphyry House had found no other entrances. He had tried to track down the architect responsible for the building, but nobody knew who had designed or built the place.

He was able to tell them that Porphyry House had first opened 12 months earlier (in Kadal 789). It had replaced a smaller, less prestigious brothel that had previously been built on the same site. There were rumors that, since that time, Porphyry House had been trying to force other brothels out of business in an effort to corner the market. The place was particularly famed for reputedly being able to instantly cater to the most specific (and perverted) needs of its clients. Shim had also learned that a major orgy was to be held at the House on the 18^th of Noctural.

Thanking Shim for what he had found, they focused their attention on forming a plan of action. They briefly revisited the idea of trying to break in through the sewers, but ended up rejecting it because they would need clairvoyance spells to pinpoint where to dig and they suspected such spells might trigger alarms within Porphyry House.

Instead they decided to use their stone-shaping spells to simply tunnel in through a side wall.

Running the Campaign: NPC Conversation Agendas – Campaign Journal: Session 43E
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index

SESSION 43C: THE BATTLE OF THE BANEWARRENS

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And ran into the wall.

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

Agnarr adjusted himself, charged forward—

And ran straight into the bats.

“BATS!”

But they were completely out of Elestra’s control.

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

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

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

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

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

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

And struck the wall uselessly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At which point Elestra shot a hole through its wings.

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

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

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

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

SESSION 43A: SCOUTING PORPHYRY HOUSE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I come from a city.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not if we’re subtle.”

“So… everyone will notice?”

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

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

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

ON HOLY BUSINESS

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fifty gold crowns.”

Tor shrugged and paid it.

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

Which it did.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course not,” Tor said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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