D20rpgs.co.nr

[Erik Mesoy]

Synopsis

This is the second part of a tale from the days when the sorceror Vemal arose to conquer the lands of the Free People.

The first part, Escape from Vardithran, told how Vemal's armies captured hundreds of people to be sacrificed in dark rituals. It recounted how the prisoners of one fortress, named Vardithran, were lucky enough to find that one part of the guards had gone out and that the other part were feasting, and so broke free from their cells. Under the leadership of Dras, an orphaned thaumaturge, these men and women fell upon the guards and were joyously victorious. They proceeded to the second floor, slaying the keeper of the rituals and unbinding his devil, which took the keeper with it to an unknown Hell. Then they sacked the treasury and set fire to the building before fleeing by means of a secret passage.
Outside, they beheld the smoke rising up from Vardithran, and held council. A few of them were trained in the ways of war, but half were old men and children of the halfling people, and so they decided to attempt to travel due west to the Blackborder Spires, seeking the succour of the Dwarves, if they could get past the armies of Vemal, which were even now known to be invading.
The party journeyed westward for a while, being attacked by elemental spirits, bears, and ogres among other dangers, and meeting the dark elf Burek, a fellow fugitive. Their number diminished along the way: an elf dying in her sleep, a halfling slain in combat, a birdman choosing to stay with Burek, an elan being lost in unknown cirumstances, probably petrified by a medusa. Those who remained were Valerie, a woman of great strength of both heart and arm, the grizzled warrior Fetel, the monk Thorn, who was said to be of divine heritage, the changeling Vord, who was frail of body but had the strength of mind that his power rivaled a wizard's, and finally their leader Dras, of whom it was already spoken.
Eventually they came upon the hidden fortress of Deonimus Sanleit, a dwarven hero of ages past. Here they rested for a time, and the dwarf among their number, Thorgrim by name, invoked the magic of the place, allowing the party to pass through a great stone door. It led not to a passage, but directly to the Blackborder Dwarfhold, and so the heroes of that tale slipped past the main lines of the war.
Here the tale grows tangled. Joining with Lennal, an elven sorceror, the monk Ackmed, and the incarnate azurin Aster, the party exposed a shape-changing spy working on behalf of Vemal, but not before the unhamed one had infected a large portion of the water supply of the dwarfhold. Then Thorgrim stayed with his people to stand in the siege against the teeming hordes of Vemal.
Their numbers changed once again like the planks of a ship that undergoes repair and yet maintains its identity, the others travelled further west, away from the war that now progressed slowly in the mountains and would grow even more turgid with the advent of winter, only a few weeks away. They came to the town of Heart's Plain in eastern Athenmere, where a panicked rider of the Order of the White Lion gave them a strange bundle and charged them to keep it safe before fleeing onwards.
Here they witnessed a great event. Outside of town, something strange had been occurring for the past week. The diviner Borgelsog met them there, telling them that some time ago, a hero, possibly the Masked Gladiator, had been imprisoned at thise site by powerful magic. But so strong had been the person's will that it was yet unbroken, and they hoped one day to be freed. And now, Borgelsog recruited the group's aid to hasten the process that he saw to be ongoing, and as they worked, they saw a living vision of Hope appear before them to lift their hearts and gladden their spirits, before it made for the east, to bring succour to those who were beleaguered in the war.
Then the company were invited northwards to the town of Ossicbottom, and set off, but were halted underway, first by a band of cowardly highwaymen, who took some more payment to double-cross their employer before fleeing southwards, and second as they passed by the hamlet of Smallpoint, where the rider's bundle raised mickle suspicions among the guards. As fate would have it, the Order maintained an abbey in that very town, and they made their way to see its abbot, Ola Brown. The good father explained to them that the bundle was one of several that had been spread across the land to keep a certain piece of the Order's workings out of the hands of its enemies.
Now one of the enemies was a dwarf who had been exiled from his people for practising necromancy, and so went only by "Outcast". He dwelt in that very town, and by dark arts had he forced the peace of its governors. Now the heroes learned about this villain, and made counsel. Most of their number were willing to go forth and do war on him, but a few felt otherwise. First Lennal pleaded family matters, and left in a trice. Then Ackmed, whose devotion was to Mougol, the god of trade, said that he felt fear in his heart at the thought of encountering a necromancer, and that it was more important to him that he destroy a counterfeiter rumored to be operating nearby, which was an abomination unto Mougol. And Aster, who had great unity of will and loyalty of heart to Ackmed, did leave as well.
But the resolve of those who remained meant that they were not alone, for a number of others joined them. The dwarves Baglok and Reg, who dwelt in Smallpoint, were glad to strike at one they counted as a traitor to their people. Cassie, the gnomish wizard, held a deep grudge against all necromancers, but she would not speak of it. Finally, the human twins, Penelope and Peregrin, who had had a telepathic rapport since birth, often knowing things they should not have been privy to that the other had seen, had been ostracised since a young age. To kill Outcast, they reckoned, would be a symbolic vengeance against all who had wronged them, and might earn them a place in the community.
Alas; while Penelope and Peregrin were made into heroes of story and song, it was because they fell in battle. Then the others overcame Outcast, capturing him and killing his followers. Seeking to learn what Outcast knew and what forces he was in league with, they sought the aid of one Haldiel, a spellsword from the western land of Viderkun, that ancient Empire. Haldiel sought to aid them in the interrogation of Outcast, but when the necromancer was threatened, by dire words and spells, he took his own life.
Among the spoils of battle, strangely, was a mace that held within it the spirit of Joshua Malice, a demonslayer who had lived in the depths of time and related that he had been cursed to dwell in the weapon by the high demon Ma'anum. But while it entered the lives of the heroes now, it does not come into the story proper just yet.
Then the heroes were feted by the mayor of Smallpoint, who paid them handsomely. Baglok and Reg chose to settle in the town and take over a brewery that had been owned by Outcast, while Cassie would travel with her new-found heroes for a time, and Penelope and Peregrin were given hallowed graves and their names entered into the record of the heroes of the town.
As the first part of this tale drew to an end, Valerie had expressed an interest in once again seeing her parents, who dwelt in western Athenmere. And so our tale continues, now that Dras, Vord, Valerie, Thorn, Haldiel and Cassie have begun this journey.
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[Erik Mesoy]

Suncome 5, early evening
The Roaring Bull tavern was quiet. With what they knew about Ossicbottom, and with no trails of note leading west from Smallpoint, the party had chosen to head south and return to Heart's Plain and follow the main road westwards from there on the way to Upper Wotton. Here they had put in at a tavern to hear news and get well rested before making an early start the next morning.
The news had been scant, but was accompanied by much rumor.
With certainty, the Viderian Emperor was mobilising his troops. Some held it was to keep Viderkun free of refugees, some that he was planning to invade Athenmere while it was weakened, and most that that Viderkun was joining the alliance formed so far between Lerania, the Republic of Athenmere and the Dwarven Kingdom.
Moreover, winter was coming, and snow had begun falling in the Blackborder Spires, where the Blackborder Dwarfhold was still standing as of a few days ago. Some said that Vemal would make a last push to take it before winter set in, while others held that the untrained rabble making up the bulk of Vemal's forces would disperse for the winter.
And for a third piece of news, King Sherman of Pons had apparently been assassinated, leaving his son Lucian to rule. Any imaginable story surrounding the event, even the claim that Vemal had somehow teleported in (despite Sherman's palace being warded against teleportation), dueled Sherman to death (Sherman had been known to go nowhere without numerous bodyguards), and flown the body from the palatial flagpole in place of the royal crest (which was ridiculous in itself), had at least one ardent supporter willing to expound it in detail and at length.
None of these had found Dras or his companions willing to buy them a drink for the privilege of hearing their version of events, though, and thus they were left in peace to talk and eat and drink before going to bed.

"I hear Lucian is a belligerent fool." said Cassie over a mug of pear juice and some bread with honey. "A gold piece says that before the week is over, we'll hear that he's either joined the war, or his 'advisors'" - she made a sarcastic gesture - "will have shut him up and taken the de facto rulership." Although she might be a gnome, and therefore small, Cassie was unafraid to speak her sometimes insulting opinion on any subject. This was probably because she was a professional wizard, as shown by her clothes. While she eschewed the ridiculous robe and wide-brimmed hat that too many bards said wizards wore, she did have uniformly deep blue clothes that were cut for impressiveness more than function, and had recently gotten a tailor to spell out the Draconic words for "Illusion" and "Invisibility" in yellow flannel on her sleeves.
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[AbuDhabi]

DRAS

"So long as he doesn't join Vemal, or something equally daft, I'll happily ignore his existence," opined Dras, chewing on a chicken leg. He was a human man of average height, average girth, with average, short brown hair and blue eyes marking him as someone who probably came from the northern territories. In essence, he would be highly nondescript, a trait he has taken some pains to develop in the past, if not for his attire. He wore well-made, if not striking, clothing, complete with a few pieces of low-cost jewelery. A cloak edged with mystic symbols sprawled from his shoulders, and a stylish hat with a pheasant feather rested beside his plate. His armanent included a masterfully carved staff and a large crossbow.

An armed stranger with potentially significant wealth to his name.

"Nobility and Royalty": (8)+6 = 14.
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[Omegaboot]

Thorn Stormdaughter sat quietly, eating a simple meal of dark bread, dry meat, and hard cheese, washing it down with water. She adjusted the seemingly-fragile bandages and rags she wore for clothing as she looked around the tavern. "Do we know anything else about the situation hereabouts? How do the people feel?" She seemed unaware of the effect her piercing blue eyes and golden hair were creating on the villagers around, nor of the disparity between her looks and her clothing.

((Know check 2. Also, edited for flavor.))
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Thorn Stormdaughter is pretty.
Natha Vinio, Drow Cleric of Lolth. Of unknown gender.

[EvilDarkLord]

Wearing plain clothes, a man with brown hair and eyes sat next to the others, glancing up from time to time from his thoughts. He was just over average height, and the sack next to him was the only interesting item visible. Presently, he had nothing to offer the conversation but seemed to follow it with mild interest. Occasionally, he pecked at the pastry he was nursing, or took a swig of some fruit juice. When it wasn't scratching at his stubble thoughtfully, his pastry-free hand was moving around in shapes that, made by someone else, might have called forth great demons and torn the ground beneath his feet. He smiled to himself.
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We rode on the winds of the rising storm,
we ran to the sound of the thunder.
We danced among the lightning bolts,
and tore the world asunder.

[ilovefire]

Valerie

A human woman sat, not far from Dras. She was obviously a warrior--were it not for the numerous hammers she had hanging about her person, she was of the state of mind to wear a suit of very well-built full plate to a simple meal though not as simple as her Aasimar companion's, consisting of ham and boiled potatos with gravy and onions, with a flagon of merely water to wash it down. She glanced at Thorn, with her blue eyes, and then at Dras. Raising a hand to brush a wayward blonde hair from her face, not bothering to return it to the bun where the rest of her hair was kept tamed, she spoke. "As stubborn as Lucien is known to be, I doubt he'd do that," was her assessment of the situation. Her armor gleamed in the low light of the tavern, as did her weapons, due to the extreme care that was taken in keeping them in order. She wore a simple cloak on her shoulders, with the hood currently down. It was also well-taken care of, the fibers free of dirt and grime. She was constantly fiddling with the pin keeping her hair in it's bun, as if she was unused to it's presence. A holy symbol to no deity in particular, but one representing the abstract ideals of Good and Law hung at her neck alongside a small, crystalline pendant.

[Reiver]

Haldiel sat beside the rather plain man in brown, the two having come to be fairly amicable as time carried on. He was a tall man, and even while lightly built, he was clearly fit and with considerable musculature on his wiry frame, and had short black hair, entirely forgettable facial features but for the current attempt to apparently grow a set of narrow sideburns and moustache. He was clearly used to shaving, because he couldn't help but scratch at it a lot.

His clothes were a plain shirt, dark rust-red jacket and trousers. Rather foreign in style, there were vague hints of the Viderkun military officer corps about them, as was recently fashionable in his homeland. While his breastplate and backpack were not being worn, they were close at hand - leaning against the table leg. He'd kept his swordbelt and weapons on, and was clearly a warrior of sorts even if not so dedicated as the woman he shared a table with.

He was eating a fairly straightforward meal of chicken, potatoes, onions and gravy, and nursing a mug of actually decent ale, a change he found welcome since leaving his homeland (whose beer was, of course, infinitely superior). He seemed to be finding little enjoyment in it though, as the current conversation had left him with a very resigned look on his face.

He joins the conversation with a resigned sigh. "I am very nearly certain the Viderian military is mobilising to join the alliance against Vemal. They've known this day was coming for some time now - at least a year or two, and have been stockpiling resources accordingly. It's actually the reason I'm here at all - I'd done my time in service and they couldn't legally hold me longer, but should war break out they would have 'requested' me to re-enlist, and I had no intention of returning to those days. Not in a war like this one."

He drank deeply on his flagon, his mood having become positively melancholy as the conversation progressed. "It's just all part of a great damn cycle anyway..."

[Erik Mesoy]

[Reiver]

"...Oh, that." Haldiel promptly orders another beer, straightens a little. Appears to be thinking a fair bit, before answering. "Oh, uh. Viderian politics tend to go in loops. First they're isolationist towards all their neighbours, then they get expansionistic and take over all the little petty kingdoms, and then they tend to sit there until a real war comes along and they suddenly realise they're needed elsewhere," Haldiel said. While not quite technically a lie, it wasn't quite the cycle he was talking about previously, either...

"What's this about the high council doing nothing? What do the people think they should be doing?", Haldiel asked, shifting the subject for the moment.

((17 on my bluff check to deflect the question onto something more innocuous. Party is welcome to catch me on it, but if they do it should be fairly obvious he was trying to avoid attention of the locals who were in earshot.))

[Erik Mesoy]

"Well, see, we've got the Blackborder Spires here," said the barkeep, holding up a hand, "and the dwarves are holding the Eastmount here and their Blackborder Fortress here, and we're over here and that a--hole Vemal is leading a million screaming orcs all the way from here to here," he gestured somewhat confusedly, pointing in mid-air and taking a deep breath, "and the gnomes down in Lerania have got them blocked here, which means the orcs will have to come here, and all the Dukes are hedging their bets on how many troops they need to raise to be safe, when what they ought to be doing is to send all the troops they can raise and drive Vemal right back to whatever d--n hole he crawled out of!" The barkeep was growing red in the face now. "Only none of them want to do it first, which is why the High Council ought to take a stand! Do like Halamagus and lead an invasion to keep those a--holes down for another hundred years or so! Did I ever tell you, I met an elf once who served in Halamagus' army? Damn old, he was, but still a damn fine archer. Could hit a target a quarter-mile away."
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[AbuDhabi]

DRAS

"No, we haven't heard that one," remarked Dras between bites. Being the paranoid individual he was, he understood the plight of the free peoples' governments. They couldn't really afford to let their guard down, lest someone opportunistic stage a little coup d'etat. Or Vemal teleport in a small army to lay waste to the civilian population.
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[Reiver]

Haldiel nodded slowly. Like Dras, he knew precisely what the problem was in such a patchwork area. Nonetheless, it's often better to get confirmation of the political climate...

He said to the barkeep, "I think I understand. What is really needed was to raise troops to send to the front lines, while maintaining a reserve lest any forces sneak in - Vemals or otherwise. But with multiple small nations rather than one big one, each individual duke needs that reserve, given the dukes do not trust each other enough to maintain a shared defensive force, and that is destroying much hope of sending an expeditionary one?"

[Erik Mesoy]

"No, it's not a problem of trust, really, they're all a bunch of inbred aristocrats anyway. The problem is that they're all a load of bloody misers who don't want to send any more troops than the absolute minimum!" said the barkeep explosively. "Sorry. I shouldn't be venting at you. You probably need to get your sleep."
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[Reiver]

'...They're worried about the cost?" Haldiel blinks, honestly surprised. "Dear me. I hadn't thought of that issue. ... And no, it's quite alright. Such information is useful to be aware of, thank you."

Haldiel appears quite a bit peturbed by the news - he was happier when he thought it was a matter of pure paranoia, rather than... this.

[AbuDhabi]

DRAS

"Of course it's a matter of money," commented Dras. "Money is always involved, in some way. If motives of parties are unclear, then economic interests are usually the primary ones. Money, after all, translates easily into power. Losing money loses one power just as easily as losing the objects of power themselves. If the nobles fail to protect themselves, going to the offensive without consideration of adequate defense, they risk losing it all, but if they spend too much, they also risk their long-term powerbase. War is expensive."
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[Reiver]

"Yeeees. I am quite aware of the economic cost attached to warfare. Nonetheless, it seems..." Haldiel trails off. "...No matter. Perhaps I have grown complacent being from a unified nation with a standing army."

He turns back to his drink. The more he hears, the more the local politics are rather failing to impress him.

[Erik Mesoy]

"It's not like they're stupid or anything, they're going to do what it takes, the only question is whether I'm going to have to move." muttered the barkeep darkly to himself as he wandered off to serve someone else. "I could get a d--- good price, I just wish I knew whether it was going to happen at all so I could get everything in order." He left the party alone moments later.

"So, what are your bets on this?" asked Cassie. "The way I hear it, Vemal is stuck in the mountains. Of course, if he comes over with his army, it'll be a good thing that we're headed westwards. But then I don't really know anything about the situation."
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[AbuDhabi]

DRAS

"My take is that Vemal is not stupid. He doesn't strike me as stupid," said Dras, frowning in thought. "He must realize that going through the front door, and any of the obvious side-entrances isn't going to be easy, even if the local overlords fail to assign sufficient forces. In his place, I would have contingencies in place for just the situation that I were trapped between approaching winter and some dwarven strongholds. If he wants to keep his hordes, then he must advance, or at least capture a nice big city with its stores intact to provide for his armies." After pausing for breath, he continued, "I don't think assigning more troops to the border strongholds than necessary would be a good move, against an intelligent foe. If he finds a way through the mountains that goes around them, the soldiers stationed there won't have any usefulness. Should Vemal anticipate this move, and I'm betting he is, he would have been planning how to get past the mountains without actually having to conquer a border fortress. It's like that devil at Vardithran - how could that sorcerer even summon it? And the bonfire - what was that about? Mark my words that that sunnuva is planinng something nasty."
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[ilovefire]

Valerie

Val nodded at Dras. "Yes, and he's obviously got infiltration in at least his direct enemies--as we found out at the stronghold. He may even have them in ALL of the nations arranged against him. He's bound to have powerful spellcasters, and I assume that teleportation isn't that uncommon? I only know what I have heard, of course, but it seems to me that it's possible that he has many shapeshifters throughout the world, reporting to him," She said, without the slightest note of paranoia in her voice.

[Erik Mesoy]

--Cutscene--

Somewhere on another plane of existence...

An irregular spinning ball of metal hangs in the air, the gears on one side arranged regularly around a door. Our view draws back and turns away to an approaching patch of distance in the clear whiteness. We zoom towards it, or it zooms towards us, soon resolving into a tiger-headed figure, recognisable by his scintillating cloak and other regalia as Vemal, the villain of the piece, He is flying under his own power, soon approaching the sphere, landing on it and opening the door by some complex combination of pulls on levers.

Inside is a glowing amber light. Vemal thrusts himself in, gravity apparently being entirely subjective on this plane.

He emerges in a curious-looking shop. An amber glow is behind him, suggesting that the shop is on a secluded plane of its own. A creature with eight limbs and no discernable head is pottering around between shelves. It chitters.
Subtitles: "Welcome, Vemal. What are you looking for today?"
Subtitles: "Greetings, Chatkaramox. Components for widening and repeating."
Subtitles: "Very good. Step right into the demonstration area and show me."
We see the eight-limbed creature and Vemal move into a side area where the walls are laminated with a variety of odd materials. Vemal begins making gestures and speaking words for a spell. Just as it completes, there is a rushing sound and the spell dissipates, absorbed into the walls."
Subtitles: "For that, please."
Subtitles: "Both of those use voidstone for their primary component. I have only twelve in stock, and I cannot sell you more than six at the normal price."
Subtitles: "Then I will buy six and put in an order for twelve more. Is this agreeable, Chatkaramox?"
Subtitles: "Very much so. Will you present your payment?"
Vemal draws a bag from some inner pocket, draws a larger bag from inside that one, and counts out a number of large luminescent pearls, diamonds worth a king's ransom, a flask containing something golden and elusive, and an etched platinum tablet.
Subtitles: "Thank you, Vemal. I am glad that you pay in such hard currency."


--Normality--

"Devil? Vardithran? Bonfire? Shapeshifters?" said Cassie inquisitively. "I have to hear about this at some point."

((DM: Unless someone really really wants to re-re-summarise the past plot, which Haldiel may also be interested in hearing, I'll assume that it gets done with reference to the introduction at the start of this thread, and fastforward more of your journey soonish.))
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[AbuDhabi]

DRAS

"Correct," Dras nodded at Valerie. "My estimates on Vemal's proficiency in the arcane arts are fuzzy, but he should be able to produce, at the very least, sixth-tier spells. Basic medium-range teleportation is well within this. For the benefit of the nonarcanists," he eyed Valerie and Thorn briefly, "and comparison, I can currently work second-tier magic with no assistance, and have a good chance at operating up to perhaps fifth if I happen to stumble upon pre-constructed thaumic devices - the wizard we faced in battle recently could do third. But I digress. With enough time and bodyguards to prevent attrition-based countermeasures, a powerful magician that Vemal is has nearly limitless capabilities." He considered for a moment, catching his breath. "I don't know much about Vemal. He is relatively new to the scene, and that makes predictions difficult. My idea is to research the topic of the enemy leader in depth, if we get the chance. Particularly... his motivations."
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[Reiver]

Haldiel nodded, after a moment. "It's a worthy goal, though I suspect Vemal has deliberately kept as much of that sort of detail secret as possible. How do you intend to find this out?"

[AbuDhabi]

DRAS

"First we find out more about Vemal's people," answered Dras. "We need to know where they come from, and what exactly can they do. It's difficult to understand someone if one doesn't understand what that someone is."
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[Erik Mesoy]

Afternoon turned to evening, with many a word being exchanged, and eventually night came and went, and with it sleep. The next morning dawned cold and overcast, and the party set out with several horses, a pony and a cart carrying them. They traveled slowly, Vord sitting in his cart doing things of the psionic and minimally scrutable sort.

The day passed with the sky threatening storms, though never quite making good on its threat. The party made it to the town of Pine Gulch, stayed there for the night, and progressed on the next day to the larger city of Habrigborough where they heard ill news. By some foul means, although winter had not come yet, its harbingers certainly had. Winter Wolves, beasts the size of ponies that breathed elemental cold, had been seen several places in Athenmere over the past few days. As wagging tongues would have it, travelers were ill advised to travel in groups of less than ten or fifteen, and each party should have at least one wizard and five professional soldiers, and everyone else should carry torches.

Athenmere's dukes, of course, could not simply let such a thing go unnoticed. They had begun calling a great many men in to military service, resigning themselves to some rather painful expenditures, and moving the majority eastwards towards the Blackborder Spires, while some troops were to patrol the main roads.

"Looks like we'll either have to go on our own a lot, or be held up a few days waiting for convenient patrols." said Cassie after badgering one of Habrigborough's town criers for information. "What the f--- do you think is causing winter wolves to spring up everywhere? Normally we only hear about one or two incidents even in the depths of winter."
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[AbuDhabi]

DRAS

"At a guess, I'd say this isn't a coincidence," opined Dras. "Those critters are pretty smart, as far as reports I've read go. Plus, they aren't unheard of in these parts, unlike, say, marauding packs of trolls. Vemal or one of his underling thaumaturges might just have negotiated them into service, or just summoned from somewhere. This way they can get the whole disturbance at our rear lines operation going without actually resorting to anything really overt, like the aforementioned trolls."

"Regarding ourselves," he looked at the party, "I think we'll manage. With some nice fire spells prepared, even these predators should fall. Well, one. Two in a pinch... Pun not intended, but stay frosty, and keep an eye out. This includes you, too, Vord," Dras raised an eyebrow at the recently very meditative psion. "If we're attacked by more than two, do your best to clear the area the pack occupies. I have something packed away for a dark hour, but it's a very indiscriminate method of ending life."
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