Go to Table of Contents

THE DREAM MACHINE

The dream machine allows multiple subjects to be strapped into it and share the dreams of the primary subject. Lulu is the primary subject here, and the dream machine should allow her to dive into and recover memories that she has lost. Mad Maggie will encourage as many PCs as possible to join Lulu in the machine so that they can help her in recovering her lost memories.

Once everyone is attached to the machine, Mad Maggie will activate it (and will continue monitoring its activity from outside the shared dreamscape) while promising to pull them out if things get too rough.

SNIPPET – TUNING INTO LULU’S DREAMS: There’s a strange rushing sensation and/or sound (it’s difficult to differentiate one sense from another for a moment) and then all of the PCs open their eyes to find themselves with Lulu in an infinite, featureless white void.

• A moment of double vision: The PCs realize that they are looking out of each other’s eyes. (So PC 1 is looking out of PC 2’s eyes and is seeing themselves, for example.)
• They hear Mad Maggie’s voice cackling out of the white void all around them: “That’s odd! One moment!”
• There’s a high-pitched squeal, everyone’s vision blurs, and then they’re all looking out of the correct sets of eyes.
• Mad Maggie says: “That’s better! Now, give me just a moment to synchronize your soul-streams with the heartstone. [PC’s name] seems a little choleric.”
• As Mad Maggie adjusts the machinery, the white void slowly morphs or shifts or phases in and out of a sickeningly pink and fluffy landscape that slowly comes more and more into focus until it finally solidifies around the PCs… this is the inside of Lulu’s mind.
• Mad Maggie: “You should all be on the same beam now. This may hurt a little. I’m going to adjust the machine to harmonize with her Styx-tainted memories.”
• The fluffy pink landscape begins to undulate precipitously. It seems to accelerate unevenly in semi-random directions, rushing past the PCs and Lulu in a dizzying display. Then pieces of the pink fluff seem to either desiccate or decay; turning into faded brown patches or, in some cases, a dripping black sludge.
• The effect accelerates — more and more of the pink fluff turning into a sickening morass that swirls about the PCs in a whirl of multi-shaded black. PCs need to make a DC 13 Dexterity or Wisdom check to avoid having this black muck cling and stick to them. On a failure, they will suffer disadvantage on their first check in the vision.

VISION – THIRD VISIT TO IDYLLGLEN: The black sludge sloughs away to reveal a field of battle. It’s chaotic. The battle lines of Zarielite crusaders have met a ravening mass of gnolls and the front lines are a frantic melee. [PC’s name] is just dragging their sword free from the dead body of a gnoll.

• Lulu is nearby and Zariel is mounted atop her. But even in that moment of respite, Zariel cries out, “Lulu! Help hold the line here! I’m going to get a lay of the land!”
• As Zariel shoots straight up into the air, another clot of gnolls comes rushing down the hill.

Encounter: Zariel can be seen circling above. You might describe her occasionally diving down towards some distant part of the battlefield, only to reappear above on the next round.

• 4 gnoll fangs of Yeenoghu (MM, p. 163)
• 7 gnoll pack lords (MM, p. 163)
• 16 gnolls (MM, p. 162)

Second Round: A “gnoll” archmage strides to the top of the hill about 250 feet away. There’s only a 50% chance per round that it focuses its spellcasting on the PCs’ section of the battle. (You can describe other spells zipping off to blast away NPCs fighting to either side.)

• Use stats for archmage (MM, p. 343), with following changes.
• Damage Resistance cold, fire, lightning; bludgeoning, piercing, and slashing from nonmagical weapons.
• Damage Immunities poison
• Condition Immunities poison
• Senses truesight 120 ft., passive Perception 12

Wrap Up: At a time of your choosing (probably when the PCs are finishing off the gnolls in their immediate vicinity and/or when they’ve credibly threatened the archmage), there is a terrible trumpeting sound that echoes across the field of battle.

• It’s followed by a monstrous voice echoing through a bullhorn. It speaks Abyssal: “Cast off! Cast off! Demons of the Abyss, to arms! To arms! We ride for the flag of Yael! At Yael we strike!”
• On its next action, the skin of the “gnoll” archmage sloughs off, revealing a chitinous, winged, demonic form that takes to the air and flies towards the bullhorn’s command.
• “To Yael! To Yael we ride!”

SNIPPET – SECOND VISIT TO IDYLLGLEN: Just as the demon’s gnoll-skin sloughed away, the fields of Idyllglen begin to decay once more into that thick, black sludge.

• The PCs can hear the sound of something metallic being struck repeatedly; like a cheap gong.
• Mad Maggie’s voice from a distance: “Worthless junk! Worthless! Align you thrice-cursed pile of barlgura dung! Align, damn you!”
• The black sludge churns for a moment longer and then grows still. Just a black void that seems to press in on the PCs from all sides.
• Out of the darkness: “You’re no ogres! Identify yourselves!”
• There’s a blazing golden light: Lulu! Lit up as if golden flames danced through her fur! Zariel is astride her. The sudden light also reveals a small band of irregularly outfitted soldiers, led by a woman with long black hair. [Yael]
• Zariel says, “Know ye that I am Zariel! By the compact of old and in heed of your call, I return to you in your hour of need!”
• The woman smiles, walking forward: “I am Yael of Idyllglen. And we are sore pressed, milady.”
• Zariel dismounts and extends her hand, clasping Yael’s: “I am glad to you meet you, Yael of Idyllglen.”

Montage of Lost Conversations. There’s a horrible screech and the vision flies apart in tatters.

• Mad Maggie: “Hold on in there! One of the bile ducts has gotten wedged open!”

What follows are just fragments of conversation (the PCs may not even see all the speakers, who are indicated in brackets for the DM’s elucidation):

• “Yeenoghu has returned! He razes the settlements of the Winding Water!” [a messenger to Zariel and the Three Generals, precipitating the Third Visit to Idyllglen]
• Zariel: “Chazaqiel has betrayed all we believe in. You must see that! To Hell with her if that is what she wants, but we would break our oath to follow her!” [Zariel rallying those loyal to Heaven before her Long March during the Averniad]
• “Which of us do you think sees more clearly?” [Asmodeus, tempting Zariel to her fall]
• Zariel: “The demon lord flees before our wrath! And he has taken one our own! To rescue and salvation! Charge!” [Zariel unwittingly leading the Three Armies through the portal to Avernus]
• “My friend, you will find the aid of the Emporium to be all that you will ever wish.” [Mahadi, shortly before he splashes Lulu with water from the Styx]
• Zariel: “It may be madness. But will you join me?” Yael: “Aye. Let’s dream a little bigger.” [Yael and Zariel forming the Zarielite Crusade]

VISION – LAST STAND ON THE STYX: They hear Yael’s voice continuing to speak, but now it’s some sort of eldritch chant. It seems to pulling at them. Their vision begins to clear. They find themselves surrounded by a gentle undulation. Like the surface of a scrying pool, it shows them:

• Yael and Lulu onboard an infernal ferry sailing down a river [the Styx].
• The ferry has been hulled and is slewed to one side; it’s slowly sinking.
• They’re surrounded by demons. Lulu has just gored two of them with her tusks and, with a shake of her head, hurls them overboard.
• Yael is casting a spell. Her chanting voice is literally drawing the PCs towards it. They can resist this effect with a DC 14 Wisdom save if they choose to (in which case they remain in the undulating space for what follows, but can choose to leap through at any time).

Yael is casting a summon celestial spell (see Tasha’s Cauldron, p. 110). PCs who are drawn through the undulating surface of the vision actually become the Celestial Spirits she summoned that day. Yael says, “Well… it seems the gods can still hear us, even here.”

• Let the players choose whether they wish to be Avengers or Defenders (Tasha’s Cauldron, p. 110).
• Although they have the stat block of a Celestial Spirit, they use their own normal attack bonuses and have their own physical appearance, but with golden, glowing skin and hair that seems to be made from pure light.
• If Lulu is a PC, she’ll assume the role of her former self.

Shortly after the Celestial Spirits arrive, Yael calls out to Lulu: They’re losing the ship! They need to flee back into Avernus to escape the demons tracking them from the Abyss! Yael flies off on Lulu’s back, leaving the Celestial Spirits to cover their retreat.

Encounter. This is not an encounter designed for the PCs to win. (If they do, great. End it there.)

• 2 shadow demons (MM, p. 64) + 4 barlgura (MM, p. 56) on the ferry
• 8 barlgura on the shore; 1d4 leap onto the boat each round
• 4 glabrezu (MM, p. 58) on the shore, shouting orders to the barlgura (they’ll come across at an opportune time)
• A flock of 8 vrock (MM, p. 64) on the shore next to the glabrezu, some of whom take off and pursue Lulu and Yael (send all of them if Lulu is player-controlled) while the rest continue assaulting the boat

Wrapping Up. This vision ends when the Celestial Spirits have been overwhelmed or, against all odds, destroyed the demonic war party.

SNIPPET – LULU CROSSING AVERNUS: As the PCs return to the undulating place, they see Lulu and Yael flying low across the Avernian wastelands.

There’s a kind of “glitch” and then it’s just Lulu flying by herself. The glitch repeats, and Lulu the War Mammoth is replaced by Lulu the Cute Little Elephant. Another glitch and now it’s Yael walking alongside the Cute Little Elephant.

DM Note: Lulu’s many, fractured memories of wandering Avernus are getting mixed up.

VISION – LULU & ZARIEL IN MERCURIA: There’s a final glitch as they see Lulu the Cute Elephant again, flying across the red sands of Avernus. The hue of the sands slowly shifts to a silverish color as the skies above darken and fill with a cascade of diamond-like stars shining bright.

The vision of Lulu fades away and they find themselves on a beach, the wine-dark waves gently lapping a beach of gleaming silver sand.

Arranged on the beach are eight pairs of frozen figures: Each pair is the same two figures in different positions and poses. Lulu (in her “fuzzy war mammoth” form) and Zariel, talking to each other.

Vignettes. The pairs of figures remain frozen until one of them is touched. Touching a frozen vignette causes it to come to life, playing out a brief snippet of the long-ago conversation between the two friends.

DM Tip: If Lulu is a player character, you could give her the script for each vignette to play out her historical part with Zariel.

Vignette #1 – Planning to Return: Zariel is standing, staring up at the stars. Lulu is curled around her feet.

• Zariel: I look out across the vast gulfs of the multiverse, and I am the sick for the need of change.
• Lulu: If change is what you’re looking for, then you’ll need to look somewhere new to find it.
• Zariel: It’s these mortals. Speaking with them – feeling the heat and fleeting speed of their passion – has aroused in me the truth. We may be eternal, but they are not. And if we fail them, our eternity makes the failure even greater.
• Lulu: Could mortals truly make such a difference in your heart?

Vignette #2 – The Disaffected Angels: Zariel wading through the waves.

• Lulu: And when the infinite forces of the Abyss sweep down upon us?
• Zariel: Then we will fight! [she laughs] But, no. Once a beachhead exists, others will flock to our cause. I am not the only disaffected angel! Give them but a chance, and they will seize it!

Vignette #3 – Dream a Little Bigger: Lulu and Zariel standing side by side, looking up at the stars.

• Lulu: From the Powers of Heaven? You’re certainly following her advice! Your dream is impossibly large!
• Zariel: Perhaps. But we’ll dream it together?
• Lulu: Forever.

Vignette #4 – What Army? Zariel and Lulu sitting on the beach facing each other.

• Lulu: You already have an army!
• Zariel: [after a moment’s confusion] You mean Yael?
• Lulu: And her militia. Yes!
• Zariel: That’s a force for bandit ogres, not demonwars!
• Lulu: But it could be!

Vignette #5 – Secrets from Heaven: Lulu and Zariel sitting on a log side by side.

• Zariel: They will not appreciate having their hand forced.
• Lulu: Then we must keep it a secret.
• Zariel: For as long as we are able.

Vignette #6 – Mortal Army: Zariel petting the top of Lulu’s head.

• Lulu: Then it will be a crusade.
• Zariel: A crusade of the valiant, whose courage shall never be broken!

Vignette #7 – Giving the Mortals a Chance: Zariel hovering a few feet off the ground, her wings spread wide. Laughing. Lulu looking up at her.

• Zariel: They have! They have made all the difference! … And perhaps that is the key. From eternity nothing can change, but if the mortals are given a chance…
• Lulu: What sort of chance?
• Zariel: To fight! To take up swords and say that their destiny is their own! That they’re no longer children! That they will no longer stand idly by while gods and godlings waste eternity!

Vignette #8 – The Second Front: Zariel is sketching something in the silver sand with her finger; Lulu is hovering in the air, looking down over her shoulder.

• Lulu: But to what end?
• Zariel: To disrupt the balance! Demons vs. devils. Heaven vs. Hell. The Great Wheel is a trap. It turns, but never ends. We will break the wheel.
• Lulu: How? Where?
• Zariel: The Blood War. The Powers of Heaven refuse to intervene – to break an eternal cycle endlessly consuming mortal souls. But if we created a second front – if we broke the balance – that might be all it would take.

SNIPPET – JANDER’S BETRAYAL: Zariel is astride Lulu and General Yael is beside them on her black charger. The battle flags of Yael’s crusaders are nearby. They stand atop a small rise on the Avernian plains surrounded by a vast array of soldiers.

Zariel: The demon army is buckling under Olanthius’ assault. I think Haruman may be able to catch them in a pincer and end Yeenoghu’s terror for all time.

Yael: I agree. As long as my army holds strong, we can keep the devil army engaged until their bloody work is done.

At that moment, a desperate trumpet sounds out across the battlefield. Zariel, Yael, and Lulu jerk their heads around.

Yael: I gave no order!

Lulu: What’s happening?

Yael grabs ahold of Lulu’s fur and shouts, “Fly! We need to see!”

Lulu launches into the sky, carrying both Yael and Zariel into a formation of pegasus-riding Crusaders.

Yael: Report!

Pegasus Rider: Sunstar’s platoon has sounded a retreat!

Yael: What?

Pegasus Rider: The call is spreading!

Looking down, they can see that a huge section of Yael’s army is peeling away towards the large portal through which Yeenoghu led the Crusaders to Avernus. Small units from other sections of the army – including some from Haruman’s and Olanthius’ armies – are following.

Zariel: What has he done?

Insight (DC 12): Zariel is in despair. She’s lost. Uncertain. Doesn’t know what to do. Her hope is breaking.

Another Pegasus Rider: What should we do?

Insight (DC 12): Yael sees Zariel’s despair and for a moment it washes over her. She, too, is losing hope. And then a steely strength seems to enter her eyes; her back straightens.

Yael: Send a messenger. Order Jander to turn back. Then rally the rest of the reserve! We’re going to charge the devil army! We have to keep them off Haruman’s back!

The doubt vanishes from Zariel’s eyes.

Zariel: The rest of you form up on me! We’ll need to intercept those flying devils! Keep them off the riders below!

Yael lets go of Lulu and plunges back towards the army waiting below.

Mad Maggie can be heard again: “What was that? One moment, the cogbox is rattling up a storm.”

Following Zariel’s orders, the pegasi begin gathering into a three-dimensional formation above the battle.

Mad Maggie: “The cogbox is resonating with something in there! A powerful memory! Hang on! I’ve got a shifter around here somewhere!”

There are rattling noises. The sound of metallic items being thrown around.

The pegasi are now in formation. Zariel’s eyes drift to the portal, where Jander Sunstar and the Hellriders are fleeing back to the mortal plane.

They aren’t turning back.

The portal snaps shut.

Zariel orders the charge.

Mad Maggie: “I’ve got it!” A screeching sound of metal on metal.

SNIPPET – THE BLOODY CYST: The memories glitch. You’re back a few moments earlier. Yael is still clinging to the side of Lulu. “We’re going to charge the devil army!!”

The memory glitches. Repeats. Yael is clinging to Lulu’s fur. “We’re going to—”

Mad Maggie: “Turn you bastard!”

The memory glitches. Repeats. She lets go and begins to fall… and fall… and fall…

Mad Maggie: “There it is!” The sound of a clutch box screeching, and then gears slamming into place.

The battlefield melts away beneath Yael. The memory reshapes itself.

Yael stands next to Lulu in the Avernian wastelands. They’re alone. Yael slumps against Lulu’s side, clutching her fur to stay on her feet. She’s looking toward the horizon: There’s a huge cloud of dust. Some massive force is approaching.

She turns and looks in the opposite direction. A cluster of black spots can be seen in the distance. They’re far away, but Lulu’s sharp eyes can see them: Demons. And they’re getting nearer.

Yael: It’s done. There’s no place left to run.

Lulu: There has to be something we can do!

Yael: There is… Do you trust me, Lulu?

Lulu: To the very end.

Yael draws the Sword of Zariel. It bursts with golden, divine light. A beacon which seems to call out a challenge to the approaching forces of evil.

Yael raises the Sword high above her head. “To all the Gods of the Seven Heavens, I plead for your aid! In the name of Zariel, Solar of Celestia. In the name of Yael of Idyllglen. In the name of the mortal souls who have died in this noble cause! I beg a boon to fulfill the final wish of a dying angel! I beg you not to forsake the greatest and most daring of your warriors!”

Lulu rears back on her hind legs, raises her trunk, and trumpets. The sound is deafening, yet simultaneously soothing. You can feel the hollyphant pouring her own celestial essence into Yael’s call, the sympathetic resonance of her trumpet echoing across the Avernian plains as she drives Yael’s plea across the planes.

And there was an answer.

Not a voice perhaps. But a presence. Riding Lulu’s trumpet back across the planar boundaries.

“Lathander…” Yael murmurs. “Thank you.” And then she plunges the sword down into the rocky surface of the Avernian wastelands. There’s a huge burst of holy light.

Lulu cries out. “Yael! No!” She can feel Yael poruing her own life force into the gift Lathander had offered.

Yael looks up at Lulu and smiles. “All that’s left now is the dream.”

The light intensifies. It’s a blinding blast that never seems to end.

But then it does. Rising from the ground – from the confluence of holy might and mortal sacrifice – is an alabaster fortress. Here the Sword will be protected. Here the Sword will be safe.

But the skein of Avernus itself rebels at this holy touch. The wastelands seethe and boil in a pustulential eruption. A cancerous, bloody cyst surges upwards, engulfing the fortress, Yael, and Lulu herself.

Note: This final vision reveals the location of the Sword of Zariel to the PCs, which is within the Bloody Cyst (Hex F4).

It is very likely that the PCs will have seen the Bloody Cyst before this: It’s positioned in Hex F4 because (a) characters crossing the bridge in Hex G5a will likely run into it and (b) this also makes it a convenient landmark for NPCs to use while giving directions. (One of my patrons also recommended that Mahadi’s Emporium could be camped out at the base of the Bloody Cyst at some point.)

So the intention here is that the players will be able to say: “Holy crap! The Cyst? We know where that is! We’ve walked past it like a dozen times!”

If not, that’s okay: Lots of people in this area of Avernus know the location of the Bloody Cyst and can point the PCs to it if they start describing it and asking for directions.

Part 6D-J: Claiming the Sword

DISCUSSING
In the Shadow of the Spire – Session 24B: The Meeting of All Things

As they discussed it, they realized that they had a wider need to take stock of what they had accomplished, analyze what remained to be done, and make some hard decisions – as a group – regarding what their immediate and long-term goals should be.

As the others returned to the inn, therefore, they gathered them together in Elestra’s room.

Tee asked the most important question: What are our immediate goals?

This week’s campaign journal is attempting to accomplish two goals.

First, it’s trying to capture the actual experience of the session, in which the players spent a significant amount of time poring over their notes, discussing their actions, and setting an agenda for the session to come.

Second, and perhaps more importantly, it is seeking to preserve the essence of that debate, its conclusions, and, for lack of a better term, its findings of fact so that they can be easily referenced by the players in the future. In other words, it’s more or less serving as the detailed minutes of the meeting.

Something to be aware of if you’re a GM writing a campaign journal like this, is that this actually takes a fair degree of delicacy. The difficulty is that they were attempting to figure out mysteries to which I already know the answers: In summarizing their thoughts and conclusions, therefore, it can be quite easy for me to subconsciously focus on the correct solutions.

For example, over the course of the conversation the group might make five different hypotheses about why Character X did Y. One of the five hypotheses is actually what’s happening. In summarizing that conversation for the journal (a process which, by its nature, streamlines the discussion), I could thoughtlessly trim away the superfluous hypotheses and only include the correct guess. (Because, after all, that’s the only important one, right?) In fact, without careful consideration and note-keeping, it can quite difficult to even remember what the other hypotheses were.

THE COLLATION

The meeting itself is of a type which I have found to be pretty much inevitable in any campaign featuring extensive lore books (the creation and use of which I discussed a couple months ago). Or, more accurately, any campaign in which extensive clues and lore have been encoded into handouts. At some point the density of this information reaches a point at which the players feel the need to organize it, collate it, and figure it out.

(Such meetings will sometimes trigger in other campaigns, but this is usually due to extensive recordkeeping by one or more of the players: Those notes become the hardcoded data store that needs to be sorted through and sorted out. For example, in my Castle Blackmoor open table, there was a session where all of the various PCs who had been mapping the megadungeon specifically scheduled a session where they could all get together, compare their maps, and figure out how to connect them into a larger, more definitive map.)

These sessions are, in my experience and without exception, fantastic. They can be particularly spectacular when the players all commit to carrying out the discussion in character, turning the whole thing into a tour de force of focused roleplaying that almost invariably deepens the players’ instinctual grasp of their characters while simultaneously immersing them deep into the lore of the campaign.

Oddly, I can rarely predict when one of these lore book meetings (as I’ve come to think of them) will break out. They often come when the players have run out of obvious threads to pull on, but can also happen when the players feel overwhelmed by the number of loose threads they have in hand. They almost always happen when the characters themselves are in a moment of quiescence, and are often triggered by just one or two players who decide that it’s time to “figure all this stuff out.”

I know some GMs who get antsy in sessions like this. I think it’s because they aren’t doing anything and it doesn’t seem as if the players are doing anything. I think this sensation is heightened because the GM knows all the solutions: Watching someone solve a puzzle you already know the solution isn’t exactly exciting, even though the person bending all of their brainpower upon the problem is, in fact, intensely engaged with it.

There may be times, however, when the group has truly run aground and you need to gently prod them back into motion. This, too, requires a light touch because, once again, you know the answers: It’s just not your place to push them in a particular direction. I know you’re excited for them to discover the incredibly cool thing you made, but your hints are almost certainly defeating the purpose of making it an engaging mystery in the first place!

Honestly, your job in these sessions is almost always to just sit back and enjoy the show, while perhaps occasionally helping players track down a particular prop or answer questions which their characters would know the answer to.

With that being said, though: Listen carefully! The players are going to drop a lot of clues for you in figuring out where the PCs are going next and what you should be prepping.

NEXT:
Campaign Journal: Session 24C – Running the Campaign: Back, Back to the Dungeon
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index

SESSION 24B: THE MEETING OF ALL THINGS

June 21st, 2008
The 11th Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty

Having returned from the Pale Tower and the Brotherhood of Redemption, Tee pulled Ranthir aside and spoke with him regarding the golden key they had recovered from Pythoness House. It was the only direct connection they had to their missing memories, and Tee felt strongly that they should pursue it as rigorously as possible. She wanted Ranthir to research it at the Delver’s Guild Library as soon as possible.

But as they discussed it, they realized that they had a wider need to take stock of what they had accomplished, analyze what remained to be done, and make some hard decisions – as a group – regarding what their immediate and long-term goals should be.

As the others returned to the inn, therefore, they gathered them together in Elestra’s room.

Tee asked the most important question: What are our immediate goals?

IRON MAGE & THE HAMMERSONG VAULTS

Ranthir pointed out that they had only two firm commitments: The Iron Mage had asked them to collect a crate from the Freeport’s Sword on the 21^st. And, on the 27^th, they would gain access to their Hammersong Vaults.

Elestra, looking at the calendar, realized it was her own birthday. She had completely lost track of time.

Tee grinned, “My birthday is on the 14^th.”

THE GOLDEN KEY

Tee again raised the issue of the golden key, and the others agreed that Ranthir should research it as soon as possible.

“Should we use the key to open the Vaults?” Elestra asked.

Tee shook her head emphatically. “It’s too dangerous. It felt like it was draining the very life out of me. It could almost certainly kill any of us. Since we’re going to be able to access the vaults without using it, I think it’s better if we just wait.”

GHUL’S LABYRINTH

Dominic mentioned Ghul’s Labyrinth. “Should we finish exploring down there?”

“And there was still a lot of treasure we needed to recover,” Tee pointed out.

Ranthir pulled out the carefully executed map he had been drawing during their explorations. He pointed out the areas they hadn’t fully explored yet, including the sealed vault door they hadn’t been able to get past. “We could also get rid of the tainted items Mistress Tee is carrying.”

Tee emphatically agreed with that idea. And she was also in favor of taking the time to loot the more cumbersome treasures: Her own funds, in particular, were once again beginning to dwindle.

At this point Agnarr mentioned that he had just gotten back from the tunnels beneath Greyson House.

Tee was shocked. “What were you doing down there? Why did you go down there alone?!”

Agnarr quickly explained what his plan had been.

“You don’t speak goblin!”

Agnarr shrugged. “But I wasn’t the only one down there.” And he quickly explained what he had seen.

Ranthir pointed out that they had sold the location of the orrery, and that it was probably just workers from House Erthuo retrieving it. Tee agreed that it was likely, but they all agreed that they should confirm that sooner rather than later.

THE NIGHT OF DISSOLUTION

Then began the bulk of the evening’s work: The reading, sorting, and analyzing of the mass of paperwork – letters, notes, maps, books, and the like – that they had accumulated over the past several weeks.

Tee called their particular attention to the Night of Dissolution.

The first reference had been found among Helmut’s astronomical predictions: “The key is found. The lost shall be found. The night of dissolution comes when the barbarians arrive.”

Then a reference in Maquent’s journal from Pythoness House: “Radanna and her friends have become obsessed with the ‘Night of Dissolution’. They will speak of almost nothing else. They are convinced that the ‘coming changes have arrived’.” And later in the same journal: “The cultists say the hidden weapons will strike down their enemies on the Night of Dissolution. I no longer care. Their true future is too entwined with chaos to foretell with any accuracy. Perhaps what they say is true. I do sense great changes in the next few years.”

One of the minotaurs beneath Pythoness House had also said: “Ah, the Night of Dissolution is come at last!” As if they had expected to be awakened only when that night had come.

And in The Truth of the Hidden God, one of the chaos lorebooks they had discovered, the last few pages were a prophetic rambling of sorts, beginning with the words: “In the days before the Night of Dissolution shall come, our pretenses shall drop like rotted flies. In those days the Church shall be broken, and we shall call our true god by an open name.” The book went on to describe the faux religious practices for a fanciful “Rat God”, with the apparent intent that a church could be openly established for this “god”. Eventually, the prophecies say, even this “last pretense” would be abolished and “Abhoth shall be worshipped by all who are not blooded by the knife.”

“I’m worried that we’re somehow responsible for bringing about this ‘Night of Dissolution’… whatever it is,” Tee said. “We found the key. And the ‘Church shall be broken’, isn’t that Rehobath has done?”

“It sounds like an apocalypse,” Elestra said. “How can we be responsible for the apocalypse?”

“Well… Are we causing it? Or are we supposed to stop it?” Dominic asked. “Is that what we were trying to do?”

“Maybe the golden key is an essential part of whatever brings the Night of Dissolution about,” Tor suggested. “Maybe we were looking for the key in order to stop the cultists from doing whatever it is they’re doing.”

“If that’s the case,” Tee said, “Then Wuntad is going to come looking for it. And for us.”

“All the more reason we should get out of the Ghostly Minstrel,” Tor said. “Everyone knows we’re here. We should get a house. Try to find some place private.”

“We could move into Pythoness House,” Agnarr suggested.

“It would certainly give me room to study,” Ranthir agreed.

THE GALCHUTT

Studying the Truth of the Hidden God drew Ranthir’s attention to the Galchutt. The Brotherhood of the Blooded Knife, to which the cult manual was dedicated, practiced blasphemous rituals of human sacrifice. These sacrifices were dedicated to a Galchutt named Abhoth, who the cult venerated as the “Source of All Filth” and the “Lord of the Zaug”.

But the first time they had encountered the name Galchutt was in the final, fragmented pages of Morbion’s journal: “JUIBLEX. HE IS OF THE GALCHUTT. THEY ARE—“

And “Blades of the Galchutt” had also been inscribed on one of the chests beneath Pythoness House. Specifically, the chest containing two matched longswords of blackened steel with hilts carved in the shape of demons’ heads.

This discussion of the Galchutt made Tee remember something: The Book of Faceless Hate, the queer volume she’d discovered in Pythoness House and then forgotten about in the chaos which had followed. Ranthir set to work deciphering the hard-to-read text…

THE BOOK OF FACELESS HATE

No title marks the tattered, dark brown cover of this book. Its contents are written in a nearly illegible scrawl that could only have been born of hopeless madness. The first several pages of the book are covered in repetitions and variations of a single phrase: FACELESS HATE. (They wait in faceless hate. We shall burn in their faceless hate. The faceless hate has consumed me. And so forth…)

CHAOS: True chaos, or “deep chaos”, is a religion based on the fundamental aspects of hate, destruction, death, and dissolution. The philosophy of chaos is one of constant and endless change. It teaches that the current world is a creation of order and structure, but that it was flawed from the dawn of time due to the lack of foresight into what living sentience truly wants and need. The gods of creation – the gods of order – are untouchable and unknowable. They are aloof and uncaring, says the teaching of true chaos.

THE LORDS OF CHAOS: According to the book, the Lords of Chaos – or “Galchutt” – are gods of unimaginable power. But they are “mere servants of the true gods of change, the Demon Princes”. It is written that the Galchutt came to serve the Princes during the “War of Demons”, but while the Princes have “left this world behind”, the Galchutt still “whisper the words of chaos”.

VESTED OF THE GALCHUTT: Although they sleep, the Galchutt still exert some influence upon the world. This influence can be felt by the faithful through the “touch of chaos” and the “mark of madness”, but it can also be made manifest in one of the “Vested of the Galchutt” – powerful avatars of their dark demi-gods’ strength.

CHAOS CULTS: The book goes on to describe (but only in the vaguest of terms) many historical and/or fanciful “cults of chaos” which have risen up in veneration of either the Galchutt, the Vested of the Galchutt, or both. These cults seem to share nothing in common except, perhaps, the search for the “true path for the awakening of chaos”. The book would leave one with the impression that the history of the world has been spotted with the continual and never-ending presence of these cults – always operating in the shadows, save when bloody massacres and destruction bring them into the open.

All of this material suggested a connection between Morbion, the gods worshipped in Ghul’s Labyrinth, and the modern chaos cults.

DREAMING & CHAOS

Speaking of the worship of chaos, was there a connection between the Dreaming and Chaos?

When they had first awoken in their rooms, both Ranthir and Tee had in their possession copies of a work known as The Dreaming Arts. There were also their common experiences with the Dreaming Apothecary.

None of them were entirely sure what the Dreaming was, but they had also seen references to it in the Notes on the Corruption of Wa’tuel from the research material they had recovered from Shilukar’s laboratories. The exact nature of the “corruption” remained unclear, but there were references to a “theft of Dreams” and a “severing of the Dreaming” which would “result in an utterly alien character”.

Similarly, Shilukar’s Notes on the Blood of Ravvan had contained references to the Dreaming: Those suffering the “dreamless corruption” and “trapped in the Dreaming stasis” appeared to be “more receptive to the whispers of the Beast”.

This discussion reminded Tee and Agnarr of a notebook they had recovered from a reptilian sorcerer named Serrek Tarn in the adventures they remembered immediately prior to their amnesia. Amidst a mad scramble of mathematical notations and geometric enigmas, there had been several legible fragments, including:

“Lessons from the tainted dreaming” (written in a large bold hand near the top of the notes)

“Sessural is the depth and the circumference”

“The bastion of purity is not untouched. If it could be destroyed—then victory.”

“The shard has not been found.”

“The inner eye sees all, but all there is it does not see.”

“To see the blackness, one must look into their own soul. The blackness is of the body and the bone and the blood.”

“The dreaming must be made one with reality. The key is the sanctuary; the sanctuary is the key; and the apprentice of the One Who Speaks in Dreams shall be the master’s voice within the world. When he is made whole, the endtimes of the beginning shall renew.”

There seemed to be a connection between the chaos and taint of chaositech and the chaos and taint of the Galchutt. Was there also a connection between chaositech, the Galchutt, and the “tainted Dreaming”? None of them could guess.

SILION

Another name that they had multiple references to was “Silion”. They had first found this name in a letter recovered from Linech Cran’s office: Silion had written to Cran demanding delivery of a shipment (presumably of shivvel). The name Urnest, an associate of Silion’s, had also been mentioned in this letter.

The name had been mentioned again in papers recovered from Shilukar’s lair. A report from Shilukar’s minions had read: “We have been contacted through intermediaries by Silion. They have apparently obtained a bone of iron that requires repair. They inquire as to whether your services might be available?”

Who were Silion and Urnest? And had there been, as Elestra now suggested, some sort of connection between Shilukar and Cran?

This discussion also stirred Dominic’s memory: While discussing the results of their mission to Cran’s with Mand Scheben, Dominic had mentioned the name Silion. Scheben had noted that the name belonged to a lascivious and rather unkempt priestess who ran a small and disreputable temple somewhere down on the Street of the Gods. He had meant to follow up on it, but then Phon had disappeared and it had simply slipped his mind.

RAVVAN

Sifting through the papers from Shilukar’s lair brought Tee’s thoughts back to the Idol of Ravvan. She considered it to be a major threat, in no small part because the mention of it had clearly given Lord Zavere himself considerable worry.

“We should make it a priority to find the Eyes of Ravvan and the Idol of Ravvan.”

Everyone agreed… but they had no leads.

“Wait a minute,” Tor said. “Could it have been Wuntad who took the idol? The gardener we rescued said that a litorian was among those who had taken it.” And there was litorian among those following Wuntad when he had ambushed them at Pythoness House.

“It’s possible,” Tee nodded. But since they didn’t know where Wuntad was, either, it didn’t help much. Besides, she wasn’t sure that she wanted to find Wuntad. Their first meeting had ended poorly.

HELMUT’S PROPHECIES

They had found Shilukar by using the prophecies they had discovered at Helmut’s house. That alone made it clear that the prophecies had at least some validity to them. In the hope of finding similar insight, they turned their attention to the rest of these prophecies and collated the following commentaries on them: 

Sitting alone at night. H upon the scope of the sky. A slight flame comes out of the void and makes true that which should not be believed in vain.

H could be Helmut, the astronomer who “sits upon the scope of the sky”.

When the crowd gathers upon the hill in the oldest town, the new republic shall be troubled by its people. At this time the lord shall be weak.

This seemed like a clear description of the Riot in Oldtown. It had led them to the conclusion that Helmut was not just interpreting the prophecies, but working to bring them about or use them to his advantage.

In the world there will be made a king who will have little peace and a short life. At this time the ship of the Novarch will be lost, governed to its greatest detriment.

They theorized that “the ship of the Novarch will be lost” could refer to Rehobath declaring himself Novarch-in-Exile – although whether that referred to Rehobath or the Novarch in Seyrun was unclear. If “the ship” referred to the Church, then it could be assumed that Rehobath’s actions would not be to its favor.

Could “the king who will have little peace and a short life” refer to Dominic’s role in Rehobath’s ascension?

S shall find the golden statue while it still breathes. But the Idol of Ravvan brings doom. His lair lies beneath a vacant lot of brandywine.

This was the prophecy which had led them to Shilukar’s lair. The “golden statue” most likely referred to Lord Abbercombe.

They will be driven away for a long, drawn out fight. The countryside will be most grievously troubled. Town and country will have greater struggle. Salesia and Corinthia will have their hearts tried.

Salesia was the capital of Arathia and Corinthia lay on the eastern edge of the Southern Pass (a city-state jointly held by Arathia, Barund, and Seyrun).

The wands must be selected before the swords.

Ranthir had found a set of notes jammed into a book at Helmut’s house. These notes included the phrases “What are the staves of Ghul?” and “Asche shall deliver the Swords of the City”. Ranthir wondered whether this meant that the staves of Ghul needed to be selected before the Swords of Ptolus… whatever that meant.

The eye of Ravvan will be forsaken, when his wings will fail at his feet. The two of Ptolus will have made a constitution for Amsyr and Duvei, which the goblins will trample underfoot.

Duvei was an Arathian city-state. Amsyr was a Vennocan city-state. The identity of the “two of Ptolus” was unclear.

The Eye of Ravvan had been mentioned among Shilukar’s papers and associated with the Idol of Ravvan.

Ranthir raised the possibility that the goblins might “trample underfoot” simply by walking under their feet… in other words, to live underground. So this might be a reference to the Clan of the Torn Ear.

Arrived too late, the act has been done. The wind was against them, letters intercepted on their way. The conspirators were fourteen of a party. By the street of kings shall these enterprises be undertaken.

A reference to “brandywine” had led them to Brandywine Street. It was possible that the “street of kings” could refer to the King’s Road in the Nobles’ Quarter.

How often will you be captured, O city of the sun? Changing laws that are barbaric and vain. Bad times approach you. No longer will you be enslaved.  Great H will revive your veins.

The mimics have seen the lance. Doom.

When Tee had been struck by madness in Ghul’s Labyrinth, she had been left with two sentences burning in her mind: “The lance is being built. The runebearers will not come in time.”

The knights out of time shall move again. Their oath shall not be broken, though their dreams lie shattered like their city.

Tee wondered whether this might refer to the strangely armored figure they had seen on the street outside of Greyson House.

A coffin is put into the vault of iron, where seven children of the king are held. The ancestors and forebears will come forth from the depths of hell, lamenting to see thus dead the fruit of their line.

After combat and naval battle, the great ??? in his highest belfry: Red adversary will become pale with fear, Putting the great Ocean in dread.

The elves shall quarrel. Dark out of the depths. Blood shed under silver moonlight

Vehthyl and Itor, and the silver joined together. Beyond the depths of the Deeps, one will say the ether trembles.

Could the first sentence somehow be a reference to Dominic and Urlenius?

Ranthir knew that the Deeps were the mid-point of the Southern Pass. The city of Deeptown lay near their center.

The rune born of crime (DB???) will walk the clouds.

This prophecy had led them, inadvertently, to Dullin Balacazar and the unknown catastrophe which had beset the Cloud Theater. (“And let’s not do that again,” Tee said.)

When they will be close the lunar ones will fail, from one another not greatly distant. Cold, dryness, danger towards the frontiers, Even where the oracle has had its beginning.

The key is found. The lost shall be found. The night of dissolution comes when the barbarians arrive.

Could the key refer to the key they had found in Pythoness House? Could “the lost shall be found” refer to their memories?

“And is Agnarr the barbarian?” Dominic said.

“Well, he’s large,” Tee said. “But I don’t think he’s large enough to count as multiple barbarians.”

“Then perhaps the night hasn’t quite started yet if we aren’t the barbarians this refers to,” Ranthir said.

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

Could this be a reference to the Banewarrens? There had been two references to them before: The schematics for a “Drill of the Banewarrens” that they had discovered in Ghul’s Labytinth. And the Prophecy they had found scrawled on the wall of Pythoness House: “The Saint of Chaos shall return and the Banewarrens shall ope their maw. And the name of doom shall be Tavan Zith.”

Within the closed temple the lightning will enter, the citizens within their fort injured. Horses, cattle, men, the wave will touch the wall, through famine, drought, under the weakest armed.

THE SEALED BOX

Although they had identified the golden key from Pythoness House as their only connection to their lost memories, they realized that there was another: The sealed box that Ranthir had found in his room after waking up with amnesia.

It was an enigma. And like any lock she couldn’t open, it seemed to be taunting Tee.

But Ranthir hadn’t entirely forgotten it, either. He had been preparing more powerful spells that could be used to unlock the chest… but they didn’t work, either.

They decided on two courses of action for the next day. First, Ranthir would go to the Delver’s Guild Library and research the golden key.

The rest of them would go down into Ghul’s Labyrinth and check on whoever was down there. After Tee’s equipment from the Dreaming Apothecary arrived, they would return to Ghul’s Labyrinth and open the doors that had previously eluded her skill.

“And if nothing else, we’ll have finished something,” Agnarr said.

NEXT:
Running the Campaign: Lore Book Meetings– Campaign Journal: Session 24C
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index

DISCUSSING
In the Shadow of the Spire – Session 24A: The Squire of Dawn

Sir Kabel returned the bow with a nod and then sat down on the couch, motioning Tor to a nearby chair. “Sir Torland of Barund, if I remember correctly? We spoke of horses at Harvestime, did we not?”

“Yes, but I am no knight, sir.”

“Truly?” Sir Kabel raised his eyesbrows. “Yet you bear a sword at your side and you carry yourself like a warrior.”

“I am trained in the blade,” Tor said. “But I belong to no order.”

“Would you like to?”

In this week’s session, Tor makes a choice about which order of knighthood to approach in his quest to become a knight. This might be a good time, therefore, to do a call back to an earlier Running the Campaign essay, “An Interstice of Factions,” in which I looked at how and why I’d set up this choice in the first place.

I honestly have no idea how things might have played out if Tor had instead selected the Knights of the Golden Cross or the Knights of the Pale. But as you can see in the campaign journal (although Tor really doesn’t), Sir Kabel had not only become aware of Tor’s martial prowess, he also had political motivations for keeping Tor close to him. As a result, Tor’s entrance into the order is heavily accelerated as he moves almost immediately into almost informal Trials of Arms, which are what I’d like to discuss today.

UNUSUAL RULINGS

“I’ll rest on little ceremony here,” Kabel said. “This is your First Trial of Arms. We’ll begin with the Test of the Blade. Strike me. If you can.”

Tor attacked… and Kabel easily parried the thrust. “Good form. Controlled, yet fierce.”

Tor feinted to the left and then slashed to the right. Kabel almost completely ignored the feint and easily parried the slash, but Tor deflected his blow and plunged the point of his blade toward’s Kabel’s chest. Kabel was forced to twist his own sword in order to parry the follow-thru. “Excellent!”

Tor backed off half a pace and then quickly brought a strong blow down directly towards Kabel’s head, but Kabel was quick enough to shift his footwork, right his form, and block the blow.

“Enough!” Kabel cried, disengaging. “Now for the Test of the Shield. Defend yourself!”

A lot of mechanics in RPGs are clearly designed for one specific implementation, and this can often be seen quite clearly with combat mechanics. One of the great things about having a GM who can make ruilings, though, is that even these mechanics can be creatively turned to new uses when the occasion calls for it.

In this case, for example, I plucked attack rolls out of the combat system and structured them as a series of checks which included parsing some mechanical failures into partial successes – i.e., attacks which could impress Sir Kabel even if they were not, in fact, successful at striking him.

The cool thing about using mechanics in unusual ways – instead of just doing some ad hoc fiat – is that (a) the player still feels like they’re in control of the situation because they can apply their mastery and understanding of the rule system and (b) the GM can also continue to use the supporting infrastructure around those mechanics to support and enhance their rulings.

For example, I was able to use my house rules for fighting defensively to increase Sir Kabel’s effective AC (since he was entirely focused on parrying Tor’s blows). Conversely, Tor’s player realized she could do the same, using the Aim ability on Tor’s final attack.

PLAYER-FACING MECHANICS

Tor loosed the shield from his back and lowered himself into a defensive posture. Sir Kabel unleashed a withering flurry of attacks, and although Tor blocked many of them, Kabel’s sword seemed to constantly find the weak points in his defense.

After several exchanges, Kabel stepped back again. “I’m impressed. It’s clear you have had little formal training, but your instincts are strong and you have clearly been tested by the true heat of battle. The Order would be honored to have you serve as its squire.”

The other thing I did here was shift to a player-facing defensive roll when Sir Kabel moved to the Test of the Shield.

A player-facing mechanic involves the player always being the one to roll the dice: If a PC is attacking, the player rolls the attack dice against a static target number representing the target’s defense. If the PC is defending, on the other hand, the player makes a defense roll against a static target number representing the attacker’s skill.

(A system where both the attacker and defender roll on each attack is NOT player-facing; that’s dual-facing. D&D attacks are generally neither, with the attacker always being the one to roll.)

A player-facing mechanic can have advantages in both practice and design, but perhaps the biggest advantage is psychological: Even though the mathematical effect of a player-facing mechanic can be utterly irrelevant, we nevertheless associate rolling the dice (i.e., an action taken at the table) to the action of the character for whom the dice are being rolled; it feels as if that character is the one in “control” of the outcome.

This is also due to the variability of the dice: If I roll for the attacker but not the defender, then the defender’s outcome is constant. Ergo, our subconscious assumes that success or failure is entirely dependent on what the attacker did – on the variability of their outcome.

(I talk about this effect a bit more in “The Design History of Saving Throws,” and also how you can consciously choose to break this psychological default when narrating outcomes in The Art of Rulings.)

Long story short, I deliberately chose to have Tor make a player-facing defensive roll — rolling 1d20 + AC modifiers vs. Kabel’s attack bonuses + 10 — because it centered Tor as the most important character in that moment.

And, of course, the player rolling the dice is the one actually engaged in the resolution, and you can see that quite clearly in this example: If I’d followed the normal mechanics and rolled Kabel’s attack rolls during the Trial of the Shield, Tor’s player would have just sat there watching me roll dice and narrate outcomes. Having the player roll the dice, regardless of any other factors, simply made for a more satisfying game play experience.

NEXT:
Campaign Journal: Session 24B – Running the Campaign: Lore Book Meetings
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index

SESSION 24A: THE SQUIRE OF DAWN

June 21st, 2008
The 11th Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty

Tor left the Ghostly Minstrel and turned north towards the Temple District, heading towards the Outer Cathedral. In the three weeks since he had come to Ptolus, he had felt a deep frustration growing in his heart. He had left his home and his family to become a knight and follow the path of honor. But he had found little of the certainty he had hoped for traveling with these strange companions that the mage Ritharius had sent him to. They were good people – of that he was certain, although there had been times when he had doubted – but they seemed lost in a time when he desperately needed direction.

And so he was intent in seeking out Sir Kabel Dathim, the leader of the Order of the Dawn. He had seen Sir Kabel’s cold reaction to the proclamations of Rehobath and this had, for whatever reason, created some sense of trust in him.

When he arrived at the Cathedral, Tor spoke with one of the lesser priests and was led to Sir Kabel’s quarters. The priest knocked on the door, entered, and returned only moments later to usher Tor forward and shut the door behind him.

Sir Kabel’s quarters were small, but well-furnished. An inner door led to what was most likely a bedroom, and the main chamber into which Tor stepped served as both an office and a lounge of sorts. Sir Kabel was sitting at his desk, but as Tor entered he closed a thin ledger, rose, and crossed towards the couch.

“Sir Kabel.” Tor bowed deeply. “Thank you for agreeing to speak with me.”

Sir Kabel returned the bow with a nod and then sat down on the couch, motioning Tor to a nearby chair. “Sir Torland of Barund, if I remember correctly? We spoke of horses at Harvestime, did we not?”

“Yes, but I am no knight, sir.”

“Truly?” Sir Kabel raised his eyesbrows. “Yet you bear a sword at your side and you carry yourself like a warrior.”

“I am trained in the blade,” Tor said. “But I belong to no order.”

“Would you like to?”

Tor couldn’t contain the grin which erupted across his face. “That’s why I’ve come to you!”

But now Kabel’s face, which had been drawn in thought and consideration, became clouded with suspicion. “You’re in league with the Chosen of Vehthyl, aren’t you?”

Tor’s grin dropped away and he chose his next words carefully. “He has recently been my companion.”

“How recently?”

“A few weeks.”

“And what do you think of the Novarch-in-Exile?” Kabel couldn’t keep the contempt out of his voice.

“I think he’s dangerous,” Tor said plainly. “And I don’t trust him. I don’t think Dominic trusts him, either.”

“And yet he stood at Rehobath’s side.”

“He didn’t know what Rehobath was planning. None of us did.”

Kabel nodded thoughtfully. “Do you think Dominic is truly the Chosen of Vehthyl?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think he knows.” Tor shrugged. “But he bears the signs. That’s no trick.”

Kabel grunted and then stood up. He circled behind the couch and began pacing, his words coming thoughtfully. “I don’t trust Rehobath. He claims to speak with the voices of the Gods, but the Gods speak through the Church and he would raise himself against it. I serve the Church. Not him.” He turned to Tor. “I’m not sure what to make of your friend, either. I would squire you into the Order of the Dawn, but as part of that I must ask you to keep a wary eye on Dominic.”

Tor frowned. “I won’t betray my friends.”

“I’m not asking you to,” Kabel said. “Are not two of my men – men who are more loyal to Rehobath than me – already standing guard at the Ghostly Minstrel? And you can be sure that those are not the only eyes that Rehobath has on him. I am only interested in making sure that Dominic himself does not turn against the Church.”

Tor had to think deeply, but in the end he believed that what Sir Kabel said was true. Or, at least, true enough. “I can agree to that.”

“Then come with me.”

Sir Kabel led Tor out of the Cathedral and into the large complex of Church-owned buildings just to the north.

This complex was capped by the Godskeep, which housed the Order of the Dawn. At first, Tor thought he was being taken there, but instead Sir Kabel stopped in the small practice field just outside the keep’s southern gate.

A handful of knights were scattered here and there, practicing or skirmishing. Sir Kabel went over to the racks of practice weapons and pulled down two wooden swords. He tossed one of them to Tor. Tor caught it out of the air.

“I’ll rest on little ceremony here,” Kabel said. “This is your First Trial of Arms. We’ll begin with the Test of the Blade. Strike me. If you can.”

Tor attacked… and Kabel easily parried the thrust. “Good form. Controlled, yet fierce.”

Tor feinted to the left and then slashed to the right. Kabel almost completely ignored the feint and easily parried the slash, but Tor deflected his blow and plunged the point of his blade toward’s Kabel’s chest. Kabel was forced to twist his own sword in order to parry the follow-thru. “Excellent!”

Tor backed off half a pace and then quickly brought a strong blow down directly towards Kabel’s head, but Kabel was quick enough to shift his footwork, right his form, and block the blow.

“Enough!” Kabel cried, disengaging. “Now for the Test of the Shield. Defend yourself!”

Tor loosed the shield from his back and lowered himself into a defensive posture. Sir Kabel unleashed a withering flurry of attacks, and although Tor blocked many of them, Kabel’s sword seemed to constantly find the weak points in his defense.

After several exchanges, Kabel stepped back again. “I’m impressed. It’s clear you have had little formal training, but your instincts are strong and you have clearly been tested by the true heat of battle. The Order would be honored to have you serve as its squire.”

Kabel drew out a ring marked with the sigil of the Order of the Dawn and gave it to Tor.

Tor’s heart leapt. It was the dream he had sought, but scarcely hoped for. He quickly made arrangements with Sir Kabel to return once every other day for his training, and then made his way back towards the Ghostly Minstrel.

AGNARR’S ABORTED MISSION

Agnarr headed across Delver’s Square to Ebbert’s and purchased a variety of supplies, particularly a large bulk of raw meat and other food supplies. Loading all of it into his bag of holding, he set out for Greyson House: His intention was to travel down to the caverns of the Clan of the Torn Ear, gift them with the food supplies, and then practice sparring with them. The fact that he spoke none of their tongue dissuaded him not at all.

Once he made his way into the tunnels beneath Greyson House, however, he found them unexpectedly disturbed: The pit of chaos had been covered over with a thick layer of stone… albeit a layer of stone which now seemed to be slowly bubbling and boiling away as a result of the powerful forces of primal chaos trapped beneath it.

Agnarr doused his flaming sword and proceeded carefully down the hallway. As he approached the complex where the bloodwights had nested, he heard many voices and the muffled sounds of some activity.

Toying with the idea of brazenly entering the complex and confronting the intruders, Agnarr instead decided for prudence. He retreated silently back to Greyson House and returned to the Ghostly Minstrel.

NEXT:
Running the Campaign: Player-Facing Mechanics – Campaign Journal: Session 24B
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index