War of the Burning Sky

Session XII

8 Deepwinter 459

For nearly thirty years, ever since he’d broken his leg hunting goblins on the slopes of Mount Karyliss, Galen had rested his bones on his stoop and watched the birds, the rains, and the occasional mountain cat that wandered through the village. It was a quiet town, situated at the top of the old North Road heading into the mountains, and Galen had always called it home. Once every five or six years, the old inn up the road would host a party of would-be treasure-hunters, young idiots following the stories and legends surrounding the burning elfwood to the north. Galen always spat and shook his head. He’d seen the burning wood once or twice… ‘Twas nothing there but fire and smoke and a painful death.

Galen had a decent view of the road to the south. Heavy clouds gathered in the lower hills, and he could feel the pending rain in his bones. It seemed unseasonal, with so much snow still on the ground, but Galen paid it no mind. He sat on his stump, smoking quietly, tossing the occasional glance over the widow-woman across the way. Occasionally, he nodded off.

This morning, Galen noticed something unusual on the road. Nodding to himself, he spat and shook his head.

The journey south from the borders of Innenotdar is relatively uneventful. The heroes circle about before approaching any village, unwilling to advertise their recent presence in the newly-extinguished fire forest. Having elected to leave her home in search of the Longwalker, a seela who escaped the forest decades ago, Tiljann now travels with the party as well. As they make their way south, they see little evidence that the war brewing to the north and west has much affected the hills of eastern Dassen.

At the end of their sixth day of travel since defeating Indomitability, the heroes approach the first sizeable community situated along the old Elfroad. They settle in Bridge Town that night at the Broken Gull, planning to resupply and take back to the road the very next morning.

Session XI

(Final 4E session)

5 Deepwinter 459

Charmalina Goodberry watched, enchanted, as the magical vessel took shape upon the water. The tiny feather, granted them by the one-horned sentinel who had revealed to them the nature of their mysterious enemy, seemed to lengthen and thicken to form the frame of the skiff. Straps of wood seemed to spring from its arching tendrils, binding the feathery frame together, as an elegant figurehead, not unlike that of a swam, formed the prow. Charm had never before seen an actual boat, had hardly ever laid eyes upon a river, but she had seen drawings. Somehow, they had failed to capture the beauty of the thing.

Joshua wasted no time, ushering his friends onto the deck and setting the craft into motion. The waters of the Singing Lake were still, untouched, save a fine layer of ash, by the fires of Innenotdar. The song of the seela seemed even more prevalent here than it did in the village, and the halfling warrior found her thoughts drifting to the nights she and Arlyn had spent with their parents, whenever their father had returned from his adventures in the Ragesian wilds. He had always had a love for song, and he had collected many from distant villages which he would share with his family on cold winter nights.

But the heat that bathed them here was not that of her mother’s lovingly-tended hearth, nor was the fire that swam into view. In the depths of the lake, not a hundred feet from the shore, a ruddy glow denoted the presence of Indomitability… the creature they had come, at last, to kill.

Charm thrust the memories of home and hearth aside. If there was one thing she had become good at in the years since her father’s passing, it was killing. And whether man or beast at the end of her sword, it must always be done with a cold heart. Even in Innenotdar.

Joshua, Elessar and Jasmine plunge into the lake, the latter pair making for the fiery stag pinned to the earth beneath them as Joshua moves to confront the merrow which swiftly appear as the waters of their home are invaded by men. The ogres fight with a token effort, however, and flee as the paladin draws forth the Living Blade, freeing Indomitability from its grip. The stag wins free of his assailants and bolts to the surface, whereas those on deck respond with missile fire as Basil lurches the boat into motion, in pursuit of their foe as he swims toward shore. Fixated on the hated singing of the fey, Indomitability never truly sees his doom until it is too late.

Thirty feet from the shore, the “child of trilla” is vanquished, and the fires of Innenotdar with him.

Session X

4 Deepwinter 459

Jasmine blinked rapidly, peering into the haze as if demanding that it give up its secrets. A new sound had emerged from the ever-present crackling of the flaming wood, a gentle roar that slowly took shape as they made their way northward along the edge of the river. She guessed it to be the voice of a waterfall, cascading over the precipice that bordered the flaming forest along much of its length.

Joshua strode confidently at the head of the column, unwavering in his determination to see this entire affair put firmly behind him. A weariness rode just beneath the surface, his stride a little forced, his shoulders squared a little too much. It was more than just the mission. She’d been reading people far too long not to recognize fear when it gripped a man. Fear of this wood and the secrets it kept, fear of the flame that constantly threatened to envelope them. A lesser man might have crumpled beneath it. A lesser man might not have stopped to lend the seela his aid.

The falls came into view, hovering as if by magic above the fog and the steam. The fire had so little grip in this place, the mouth of the river, where resided the one who could answer their questions. The noble sentinel was easy enough to spot… Jasmine had never seen his like before. She’d heard tales of such a beast, but despaired of ever laying eyes upon one.

Nelle, as it happened, was a unicorn.

Greeting them with welcome if not warmth, Nelle does his best to answer Joshua’s queries. He identifies Indomitability as a “child of trilla”, a name whispered by the wood in the dark of the night, and informs them that he must be destroyed. Armed with a certainty and a purpose, the party returns to the seela village to seek answers.

Following Vuhl’s misbegotten advice, the heroes visit the lair of Gwenvere on the far side of the lake. The twisted fey hears their plea, and only after the name of the dryad Timbre, whom she feels that she has wronged, is invoked, does she offer the heroes a token to calm the wood sprite and make her listen. The item is a lock of Anyariel’s hair, stolen from her shrine in the elven village many years ago. This they take to the dryad’s grove, where the First Tree of Innenotdar does grow. When presented the lock of her lover’s hair, Timbre shrugs aside her anguish and torment to speak with the party, and tells them how to destory the beast who keeps the wood aflame. She tells them of the Living Blade, Anyariel’s wooden sword, which holds Indomitability at the bottom of the lake, where he is pinned further by the seela’s magic song. The blade must be drawn and bonded anew, then carried from the wood that it might grow anew when the fire has been quenched.

The party returns to the village, preparing to confront their toughest enemy yet.

Session IX

3 Deepwinter 459

Crystin hated this place. She couldn’t help it. The sad, lonely memories of her childhood were coated with the smoke and ash of Innenotdar. She remembered her infrequent visits to Gate Pass, the only time her father had allowed her to leave. They were the sole moments of happiness in an otherwise grey and lifeless world, and even those journeys were tainted now by her memory of her father’s treachery. His magic had cloaked her mind in a vile fog, made her unable to explore a single thought or wayward idea. She would sit for hours in her tiny bedchamber, her mother’s portrait in her hands, the endless blaze of the elven wood chasing away any shadows that crept in with the setting sun.

She brushed aside a couple of errant tears, leaving soot-stained streaks across her delicate cheek. She refused to weep for her wicked sire, so willing to destroy his own family to be free to pursue his magic. She watched him burn behind her eyes, screaming as he died. She would do so many times in the weeks to come, remembering the way the fog had lifted from her mind as his heart combusted. She glanced ahead of her at the armored back of his most recent victim, a noble paladin who did nothing more than try and help a pleading, lonely girl on the side of the road. She knew that she shared no part of the guilt for her father’s crime, but she couldn’t help her shame. Her father could burn a thousand times for the evil he had done to Elessar. To her mother. And to herself.

Crystin glanced at the strange fairy girl bouncing along delightedly at her side, and she was filled with envy. Tiljann may have spent the whole of her life, many years longer than Crystin’s own, in the heart of the burning wood… but she was free. She chose her own path, lived freely within her own mind, loved as she would. The voices that lingered at the edges of the sorceress’s mind howled at the cruelty of it all. Never again, she swore.

Never again.

The heroes find the seela village where the river ends, spilling silently into an ash-coated lake. Their endless song drifts upriver, working tirelessly to immobilize Indomitability, the dark fire spirit pinned to the bottom of the lake in the form of a fiery stag. Many of the seela sit upon the shore, alone or in small groups, uninterested in the proceedings. Only those who retain an interest in life, the singers who await their shift when the others begin to tire, pour forth to greet Tiljann’s unusual companions. The seela girl quickly introduces the party to her mentor, Papuvin, the Songkeeper. He welcomes the heroes, extending unto them the hospitality of his tiny village, and leaves them in the care of their guide.

One other seela shows an interest in the party’s arrival. As her companions retreat to Tiljann’s small cave, Jasmine separates from the group and visits the seela agitator Vuhl, who expresses his own agenda to the swordswoman, one that would spell a final demise for the seela. He expresses an interest in ending the song, that the fire spirit might rise and take his revenge if he so wished. But the seela would at last be free of the enchantment the held them in this place, that kept them alive despite the burning. He suggested that the heroes could bring the dryad Timbre, a beloved fey creature who inhabited the First Tree of Innenotdar, to the Singing Lake, where she might be persuaded to intervene. He suggested further that the beloved dryad’s demise, a long-deserved respite from her own unrelieved immolation, would shock the singers into a moment of silence, allowing Indomitability to rise from the lake.

Jasmine outlines Vuhl’s plan to the others, including a further revelation that Timbre, should she prove unapproachable in her sacred grove, might be drawn forth by a lock of hair from the head of her long-dead elven lover Anyariel, which is currently in the hands of a corrupted nymph named Gwenvere who lives on the far side of the lake.

Joshua wishes to find an alternative to the seela’s deceitful machination. Papuvin directs him to visit one of the forest’s elder guardians who lives at the mouth of the White River. The party rests in the village through the night, then prepares to journey upriver.

Session VIII

3 Deepwinter 459

There were stars, winking at him through the smoke and haze. They were barely visible, the night sky alight with the glow from the forest, the sporadic cloud cover painting the heavens in reds and oranges. Joshua frowned.

The night sky…?

Alarmed, he forced himself into a sitting position. Elessar lay nearby, the others just beyond him, primarily within the shadow of the bridge. He couldn’t be certain in the glow from the surrounding wood, but it certainly appeared that his entire company had mysteriously fallen asleep. He closed his eyes a moment, trying to get ease the pounding in his skull, which had only worsened with every hour he’d spent in this vile place. Steam rose lazily from the nearby river, which was barely a dozen feet across. With a heavy sigh, he rose to his feet. A quick inventory of his companions confirmed what he already suspected.

Haddin Ja-Laffa and his unusual daughter had disappeared.

The party emerges from a magical slumber to find that the whole of the day has slipped away while they rested beneath the bridge. Elessar wakes as if from a two-day nightmare, Haddin’s domination magic having come to an end. Taking stock of their surroundings, Arlyn quickly discovers that the wizard and his progeny left earlier in the day, heading south across the bridge and along the road. Atop the bridge stands a lonely tower, and beyond it the long-abandoned village of the Innenotdar elves. As they gather themselves to continue downriver, a figure is spotted downriver, making her way toward the bridge. As she draws nearer, she is set upon by other creatures of similar stock who emerge from the wood and the water as if by magic. The heroes waste no time in running to her aid, and battle is joined.

The creatures are winged, elf-like fey who call themselves seela. Tiljann, the woman who was attacked, explains that her people sing tirelessly their magical songs upon the lake to the west to keep Indomitability imprisoned beneath the water’s surface in the shape of a great stag. It is this magic, called by the seela the Song of Forms, that both protects the forest and its peoples from the monster’s wrath and dooms them eternally to burn and never die within the confines of the cursed wood. It is this magic, also, which Indomitability has instructed the heroes to disrupt, lest they never be allowed to escape the forest.

The tower is an old guardpost situated above the river. Other than a handful of weapons and an annotated map of the elven village, there doesn’t seem to be anything of interest therein. Arlyn picks up a hand-written journal, left by a priest who remained in the wood when many of his countrymen had fled the flames. Whilst Jasmine is on the bridge before the tower, Crystin approaches from the southern shore, presenting her with dust from her father’s remains. His fiery death, courtesy of Jasmine’s treacherous tampering with his potion, has freed the young woman from years of slavery to his magical domination. She seems bitter, but ready to move on with her life.

The heroes investigate the village before proceeding downriver. A handful of lost treasures have survived the decades, as has an enormous stone fountain shaped like a weeping willow situated in the center of town. On approach to the fountain, Derek is ambushed by a ghoul lurking in the branches. As other ghouls appear, the heroes run to his aid but are unable to reach him before he is slain. After dispatching their undead foes, however, the party finds the wizard mysteriously still alive despite wounds that should have been mortal. Tiljann explains that he is affected by the magic of the forest, doomed to burn eternally from within. The fountain turns out to conceal an underground shrine, guarded by an angel, devoted to an elven hero named Anyariel, who trapped Indomitability at the bottom of the lake by pinning him there with her wooden greatsword. It appears that something has been stolen from the shrine, the glass case which contained it long since smashed.

As they move to leave the village, the devil Kazyk appears again, requesting a peaceful discourse and setting his weapon before him on the ground. The heroes politely refuse his offer of collaboration, righteously suspicious of the the fiend’s motives, and proceed downriver toward the Singing Lake.

Session VII

3 Deepwinter 459

Jasmine held her breath, watching closely for signs of consciousness. Elessar’s breaths remained unaltered and even. He was a pretty man, if a little too well-groomed for Jasmine’s tastes. Even soiled as he was by smoke and soot, his breeding showed through in myriad little details the likes of which her uncle had trained her well to take note of. She couldn’t have fingered which noble family it was to whom the paladin owed his familial dispensation. There were many who had settled in the heart of Gate Pass since Emperor Coaltongue had risen to power, driving many noble families into exile. Jasmine shrugged. His heritage was of little concern to her. As long as he remained asleep.

A creeking sound drifted from the broken wagon nearby. Jasmine froze, performing a rapid head count to assure herself that no one could see her sifting through the paladin’s belongings. Basil was the only other sentry, and he was situated on the other side of the ravine. The old gnomish caravan, such as it was, was likely just settling further beneath the weight of the broken bridge. Other than the occasional firebat drifted far overhead, not a creature stirred in the stillness about her. Palming the small crystal vials she was seeking, filled with a thin, clear liquid and labeled, according to Derek, with the arcane rune identifying “truth”, Jasmine quickly returned Elessar’s pack to its original position and slunk quietly away.

She froze anew as Haddin’s unmoving form came into view, his eyes clearly reflecting the firelight from above as he watched her creep across the camp. She held her breath, preparing herself for the inevitable alarm, but it did not come. After a moment, she straightened slightly and leaned in closer to the old fool, wishing anew that she could simply stab him now and have it done with cleanly and without doubt as to the cause. His gaze did not waver, but he soon started snoring. Jasmine blinked, shaking the cobwebs from her mind. She had heard that some wizards slept with their eyes open, but she had never before witnessed the phenomenon.

Nevertheless, she told herself as she settled back into her blankets, she would remain vigilant in the days to come. It would not do to be apprehended by the old sorcerer before she’d had a chance to see him burn.

The party climbs from the gorge to the south side of the ravine, resuming their journey along the old Elfroad. They are soon approached by yet another fiery denizen of the wood, however, this one a flaming hound from the lower planes. The creature approaches them on another stonework bridge spanning yet another ravine, bearing a missive in its jaws, which it deposits on the bridge and then backs away. Jasmine investigates the message, scrawled on the length of a human femur, which offers them an alliance with a mysterious benefactor should they wish to trade for the book liberated from the Shahalesti spies in Gate Pass. Jasmine discards the bone before anyone can see it, tossing it idly over the edge of the bridge. The hell hound elects not to impede them any further, watching passively as the heroes continue their journey.

Their next encounter is with the missive’s author, a bearded devil named Kazyk who appears in a massive burst of colorful flames. Chiding them for their dissmissive negotiating tactic, he attacks, summoning forth a gaggle of infernal allies to harange the heroes as he lays upon them with his glaive. The battle is brief, and Kazyk retreats as soon as the last of his minions is dispatched, leaving little doubt in the heroes’ minds that he intends to finish the business at a later time.

Pointing out that Torrent, who carries the potions, might be killed or separated from the party and doom them all, Jasmine helps dispense the remaining potions, being sure to gift Haddin with the brew she has tainted with the stolen elixir from Elessar’s pack.

Any respite from the encounter with the devil is brief, however, as Joshua spurns them onward. Some distance along the road, Crystin swoons suddenly, betaken by one of her visions, and warns Elessar to move as a lance of fire descends from which a group of flaming stags emerges. To further discourage them from evading the combat, a barrier of flame appears at their rear and cluster of burning trees crash upon the road ahead. The wall of flame to their north begins to advance as the heroes engage the elementals in the fight of their lives.

When at last the monsters are destroyed, the barrier is extinguished. A draconic specter appears above the trees, identifying itself as the spirit of the forest and calling itself “Indomitability”. It commands them to travel downriver to the “singing lake”, where it is held captive by the seela, a society of forest-dwelling fey who suffer eternally from the flames it has inflicted on the wood. Joshua agrees to sally forth as the beast has demanded, and the heroes who participated in the battle with the stags are rewarded with a magical resistance to the elements, making their potions unnecessary.

Gathering themselves to continue onward, the heroes make their way to the river, where they settle in for a brief period of rest.

Session VI

2 Deepwinter 459

The flames seemed to mock them on every side. Joshua hated the wood already, and he had spent only a few short minutes amidst the trees. The fire seemed to leer at him from every side, beckoning him further from the quiet safety of his snow covered mountain pass. He examined his hands, half expecting them to crack and peel despite the priestess’s acrid brew. He could feel the intense, withering heat closing in around him as banks of blackened smoke obscured the edges of the road, but his flesh remained unbroken. Even as he wondered whether the smoke might be a hazzard of its own, a fierce, dry wind swept inward along the roadway, snatching at his cloak and the straps and buckles of his armor. He kept his vision cast low, as the only reliable indicator that the road lay before his feet was the relative lack of undergrowth, exposing the blackened rock which once carried trade into the arms of the elves of Innenotdar. For a wood which had burned for forty years, it seemed a remarkably robust stretch of wilderness.

Much nearer the forest floor than the oversized clergyman, Arlyn could more clearly see the rocks amidst the haze. Blackened bones along the edge of the road spoke clearly that they were not the first to brave the fires of the elven wood. But they may very well be the first to emerge from the other side. The halfling stopped near a more recent pile of corpses, their blackened skin not yet completely consumed by the magical inferno that raged about them. Drawing his blade, he poked about a bit, investigating the remains for any useful supplies or forgotten treasures. When one of the bodies shifted and moaned, however, he scrabbled backward in alarm, bringing the party to a sudden halt.

But a quarter-mile into the wood, the heroes encounter a trio of refugees, now smoldering piles of burnt flesh and blackened bones. The remains are scattered, as if picked over by scavengers, but for one of the bodies which still holds life. The body turns out to be that of a wizard, a fellow student of Derek McDraken’s at Gabal’s School of War in Gate Pass, who should have died at the hands of the forest, and yet lives, in a manner of speaking. Joshua elects to end his pain, striking his head from his body, and the heroes do their best to see that the remains will burn away.

The Elfroad winds ever deeper into the wood, divided by occasional game trails, ridges and defiles. A local creature, some sort of fiery fey whom the party rescues from a massive flaming bat, provides some sketchy guidance regarding life in the wood, warning them against “angering the forest”. The heroes proceed southward, settling that night in the depths of a ravine spanned by an unstable bridge, which the party is kind enough to dispose of.

Session V

2 Deepwinter 459

The sky had begun to darken as the sun sank slowly in the west. Arlyn sniffed the air, noting a subtle change drifting upward from the south. He glanced back, performing a quick head count as his companions emerged from the narrow defile. Craggy hills decorated the landscape. At least there had been no further ambushes. Regardless of the lack of Ragesian soldiers, his sister lingered ever nearby, her hand drifting frequently toward the hilt of her sword.

The scent grew sharper as the ranger crested the ridge. The sky ahead was lit with a ruddy glow, now visible in the encroaching twilight, and the night smelled of ash and soot. Cinders drifted lazily northward, carried on a warm breeze which seemed thoroughly unaware of its wintery surroundings. Strange red flowers had begun to appear along either side of the road, flourishing amidst patches of yellowish grasses. From the top of the ridge, the halfling shielded his eyes against the sudden glare and peered southward.

The woodsman was distantly aware that each of his companions had come to a stop as they reached the top of the hill. The road leveled out just ahead into a field of ash, broken only by a lonely farmhouse sillohuetted against a forest aflame. Fiery pines filled the valley beyond, burning to the horizon amidst the lower peaks, a steaming river winding through the conflagration.

They had, at last, reached the Fire Forest of Innenotdar.

Upon the road to the Fire Forest , the heroes encounter a young girl standing near the farmhouse. She introduces herself as Crystin Ja-Nafeel, and seems to have been expecting the party courtesy of her enigmatic visions. She implores them to help her convince her father to leave this place, afraid that the Scourge is drawing near and that they will both, as mages uninterested in fealty to Ragesia, be captured or killed. Her father, Haddin Ja-Laffa, has no intention of leaving, however. Strangely, following a private discussion with the old wizard, Elessar proves unwilling to force him to comply, nor does he intend to leave his side.

Before the paladin’s strange behavior can become a problem for the party, however, the farmstead is attacked by a group of Ragesians under the command of a dreaded inquisitor. The battle is prolonged and vicious, but the Ragesians are soon dispatched. Uninterested in any further negotiations, Joshua informs the old wizard that he absolutely will be accompanying them southward into the forest. Torrent produces a handful of magical potions designed to protect them from the heat, and the heroes waste little time making their way across the field of ash and under the boughs of the flaming trees.

Session IV

1 Deepwinter 459 (New Year’s Day)

Arlyn Goodberry waited patiently beneath the dripping eaves of Canton’s, a pleasant little tavern that smelled largely of heather and winter berries. The sun had managed to free itself from the eastern peaks, but the streets of Gate Pass remained largely untrodden. The scent of charnel still lingered in the crisp, mountain air, belying the peace that so characterized the central city. Parks and fountains that were carefully maintained and frequently patrolled in the summer months stood quietly coated in frost beneath the watchful eyes of Emperor Coaltongue. Numerous carrion birds perched on or about the enormous statue, heedless of the chill as they awaited patiently the spoils of war that most interested them. Arlyn shook his head. There would likely be feasting aplenty ere this siege had run its course.

Perched precariously atop a nearby rain barrel, Charmalina reached down and tapped him on the shoulder, pointing excitedly at their companions as they emerged from the home of Councilman Menash. Arlyn nodded, glancing through the window and signaling to Basil that Jasmine and Joshua were on their way. Torrent followed in their wake, seemingly admiring a dolphin-shaped falchion that she rather obviously acquired within. Arlyn easily recognized it as the councilman’s work, as would anyone who had spent much time in or around the adventuring profession within the myriad walls of Gate Pass.

Basil and Elessar strode boldly from the tavern to rendezvous with their compatriots, the wizard trailing slowly behind. “Well?” the paladin asked, eloquently arching his brow. Jasmine glanced at him, then at Joshua, reaching into her pouch and producing a neatly-folded parchment with a red wax seal.

At the home of Councilman Erdan Menash, an associate of Jasmine’s uncle’s in years past and a man sympathetic to the cause of the Resistance, the party obtains the means to leave the city. With orders in hand, the heroes make their way to the barracks of a half-orcish guard captain named Herreman, a friend of Arlyn’s father with whom the halflings have dealt with infrequently over the years. Suddenly concerned about their mother’s well-being in the wake of the midnight assault, Charm separates from the group at this time, vowing to rejoin them later.

The party waits at the barracks as Captain Herreman makes the appropriate arrangements, collecting the gear that would allow the heroes to disguise themselves as members of his patrol. Word comes, meanwhile, that the city council has elected to submit to Ragesia’s demands and is preparing to admit a group of inquisitors through the western wall. As sunset draws near, the party manages to slip into the mountains south of town. As night falls over the mountains, the heroes take their rest in an abandoned guard tower some distance from the city walls.

Morning finds them heading south, taking the old Elf Road toward the Fire Forest of Innenotdar, to Jasmine’s chagrin, a detail only recently produced by Torrent as they prepared to leave the city. In the high mountain passes, however, they run afoul of a Ragesian ambush. Perched atop the cliffs to either side of the road, enemy scouts drop thunderstones to startle the horses. The result is somewhat different than they intend, however, with only a couple of horses surging forward and out of control. As Jasmine gives her mount it’s head, Joshua dives for the underbrush. The others mill about for several seconds, fighting to get their mounts under control.

A short distance up the road, three horsemen emerge from the brush in pursuit of Jasmine’s mount. The swordswoman turns, however, employing her typical unusual tactics to take her opponents off-guard. Elessar soon joins the fray as well, striking a mighty blow to the Ragesian captain with the blade of the wyvern-rider’s axe, as Arlyn sets up a short distance away with bow in hand, quickly dropping the first reinforcement to arrive from the south, summoned by the blast of horns from the cliffs. Basil follows suit, then turns to follow the wounded commander as he retreats into the wilds.

Sheltering amidst the underbrush beneath the cliffs, Derek and Joshua maneuver to try and bring down the sentries… the former quite literally as he pelts one of the crossbowmen with magically-summoned stones, then literally yanks him from atop the cliff, dropping him thirty feet to the road with the sound of breaking bones.

The party soon regroups. After felling their commander, Basil follows his backtrail to the Ragesian campsite. The heroes comb the campsite, searching for treasures and useful gear, whilst Arlyn investigates a nearby series of tunnels. Therein, he finds a body, locked behind an iron gate. Jasmine picks it open, and they pull the shrouded corpse from the tiny cave. The body is that of a human wizard, presumably captured by the Ragesians for the inquisitors’ bounty, who seemingly died of exposure. Elessar engineers a proper burial for the man, whose shroud is actually a length of silk used to wrap ceremonial clay jars secreted within the tunnels in the wake of the Festival of Dreams every year. As the priests and the paladin offer their prayers for the wizard’s departed soul, the shroud seems to shine, the faded images that decorate its surface coming clear for a moment as the trio becomes aware of the magic that has come upon it, a gift from the gods.

The heroes enjoy a brief repast, then gather themselves to proceed southward.

Session III

1 Deepwinter 459 (New Year’s Day)

An eerie silence hung in the crisp morning air, the chaos so readily hidden by the gloom of night having fled ere the sun’s gentle rise above the eastern peaks. From one of the many tiny alcoves that surrounded the temple’s crowded sanctuary, Alyssa watched as the grey light of dawn crawled steadily across the frozen cobbles. New Years decorations, once suspended from lantern posts and skybridges and the walls of nearby structures, lay trampled in the mud. She shook her head. There would be no parade, no Festival of Dreams. Dark omens lurked in the shadowed streets of Gate Pass.

There was movement in the sanctuary. Alyssa peered between the sheer draperies that separated the alcove from the prayer chamber. Similar curtains hid most of the walls and numerous niches surrounding the room, an element common to temples devoted to the Order of the Aqualine Cross. It added an etheric quality to the chamber, diffusing the sunlight and isolating worshippers from the harsh realities of the world outside. The temple was a house of healing, but little succor could be found herein for the man who now made his way through the chapel.

Alyssa remained hidden, unprepared for any further drama this night. Too much lay between her and her brother Joshua… too many secrets, too many lies. The shame no longer threatened to consume her, but it lingered far too near when her brother was nearby. Much like the people of Gate Pass, she would carry scars of her own this night.

Having received far too little rest but sufficient treatment to heal their wounds and restore their vital energies, the party makes their way through the quiet streets of Gate Pass to Gabal’s School of War, the magic academy more often referred to by locals as The Castle. A mob has gathered outside the academy’s gates, but is calmed in fairly short order by the appearance of one of the school’s more charming prefects, a magus named Diogenes. Recognizing that the heroes mean no harm, Diogenes admits them to the courtyard and leads them inside, inquiring as to their business. A brief conference in the academy’s kitchen reveals that the young wizard is fairly confident that he can identify their missing Shahalesti agent, an elven sorceress named Shealis Amlauril, who keeps company with midnight visitors and, upon occasion, a lantern archon.

Diogenes warns the heroes of the wizardess’s power, however, cautioning them against a confrontation. He does suggest, however, that he could help subdue the woman by challenging her to a spellduel, if the party would be willing to pilfer her spell components before she enters the ring. The heroes agree, sending Basil and Jasmine to attend to the necessary bit of larceny in newly-acquired vestments appropriate to the school. Meanwhile, Derek steals away to locate Shealis’s chamber in the west tower and determine whether or not she is in residence. Once she has left for the dueling chamber, the remainder of the party makes their way to her room, where they discover her guests.

With an oath to the archon that they would do no harm, Joshua and Elessar are allowed to interrogate Shealis’s guest, a Shahalesti spy named Larion Prevarieth whom the party most recently encountered disguised as a misshapen gnome. Larion, though unwilling to aid the party directly, eventually reveals that the metal case the heroes seek is in the hands of Shahalesti agents secreted in an elven ghetto two city wards to the east. He additionally cautions them that the case will not be taken without a fight, and urges them to leave it in the care of the elves.

In the dueling chamber, Diogenes soon manages to subdue the sorceress and leaves her in Jasmine’s care. She and Basil secure the woman, rendering her incapable of using her magic, before Jasmine sets to questioning her. Suitably convinced of her captor’s moral flexability, Shealis proves unwilling to give up the names or locations of her contacts, but is quick to try and negotiate her freedom, offering the name of the wizard to whom the case would be taken in Shahalesti. Jasmine accepts her terms and leaves her breathing, if bound, whilst she and Basil rejoin the others.

The party takes to the streets again, making their way deeper into the city. The ghetto for which the heroes are searching proves to be easy to locate, but difficult to find a way in to. In attempt to locate the most likely place for a secret entrance, Jasmine scales a nearby apartment building, peering over the walls to note the location of the buildings beyond. Selecting the most likely length of wall on their end of the compound, she returns to the street and helps locate the door. Once the party has gained entry into the ghetto, they begin their search in earnest for the gatemaker’s shop described by the elf. A group of elven children playing in the street proves to be some assistance in this endeavor, indicating that the party should proceed to the north side of the compound.

Ironically, the gatemaker’s shop sports no obvious entrance, having instead a painted door and windows decorating the face of the structure. Further aid presents itself, however, in the form of a disappearing/reappearing talking rat, who directs them to the entrance and warns them that it’s trapped, in return for a promise to turn over the case that they seek… though the contents are theirs to keep. Despite the enigmatic nature of their benefactor, they agree to the terms and make their way inside. No one is struck by the trap in the door, but the party fails to prevent an alarm from being sounded.

The lower story of the gatemaker’s shop is an obstacle course comprised of wooden doors in various states of construction, many of which hang or swing on free-standing frames. The resident Shahalesti elves descend onto the staircase across the room and begin launching arrows across the intervening space whilst their guard animals, a bad-tempered trio of celestial badgers, attempt to slow the heroes down. The party divides its efforts, and Joshua and Elessar make for the stairs as the others deal with the beasts. The elves retreat to the top of the stairs, the nearest of them drawing his blade to confront Joshua in the confines of the stairwell. The large cleric is grievously wounded, but Jasmine, Elessar and Charmalina press the attack. The others follow, bringing the fight to the upper story, whilst Torrent pauses to revive their fallen comrade. The battle is bloody, but the heroes are victorious.

With the carpentry tools downstairs, the party manages to break open the case and retrieve the contents. The rat, which has since transformed into a raven, alights upon the broken case, reveals itself to be some sort of tiny devil, and disappears with its prize in a gout of flame and smoke.


I'm sorry, but we no longer support this web browser. Please upgrade your browser or install Chrome or Firefox to enjoy the full functionality of this site.