Mid-afternoon November 13, 522.
You have all slept well except for Keridwynne who still looks somewhat tired. You have time to eat and rememorize spells. Gorath has awakened but has a look upon his face of ‘No one is home”. His eyes are lifeless. He doesn’t move even to get more comfortable. You may question him at anytime. Whatever provisions that you need buy, you can do before you leave.
You gather the horses and Tierons dog, Flint and Carlin who have brought their own horses. Akilah gathers his horse as well, a large black horse with a silver mane.
“It has been quite an experience,” Akilah starts, “but the time for me to leave is at hand. Redlan is gone and I intend to find him. He may not have been responsible for the death of my wife and children but he is not altogether clean as well. Gorath from the way he looks has all the punishment that he needed. Tortured by a mind that seems to be shattered. A fitting justice. Good-bye. We will meet again, when Allah allows it. “ He clambers into his saddle and starts out at a trot, his black hair flowing in the breeze. He looks back and waves, then is out the gates heading south.
The rest of you mount your horses and leave as well. Luz Metrall stands by the south gates and nods as you exit. His way of saying good-bye and good luck. You pass out the gates and into a cold and windy day. A mile or so down the road that you follow, stands a sign. The Kings Road. Catterick, 5 days ride. Below it graffetied in, “3 if your being chased”
The road follows many a twist and a turn winding you around some low hills to the west and a very heavy forest on the east. The farther south that you travel the more you lose sight of the hills and find yourself deeper into a large pine forest. The scent of evergreen is almost overpowering. Evening arrives. Camp is found under a large copse of pines. Watches are set and everyone sleeps. With the ministrations of Keridwynne and healing spells offered, you have all returned to your full strengths. (Meaning that you all have full hps)
November 14.
A cool morning but nowhere near as windy and through the canopy of the pines you sometimes glimpse a little of the sun. Gorath has done little if anything at all. He does eat and drink a little if offered but little else.
November 15.
A warm day for November. The sun is shining but still it is difficult to see from under the pines. The scent of evergreen has died or you are getting used to it. Mid afternoon, you catch a whiff of smoke from the south. Campfire most likely. A short travel on and you see an overturned wagon. It has been mostly burned but its embers are still smoking. Probably a trader, on his way to Newcastle, his is the only body that you find. Badly burned. From a burned out barrel you can guess that he was hauling whiskey and other alcohols that burn rather nicely. Carlin looks around. “Anybody track?” he asks. From the shakes of other peoples' heads, you can guess that no one does. “Oh well, lots of small feet and dog prints. Big dog prints. Just a guess but maybe wargs and goblins of some kind. This would be something that they would do.”
Bladifors perks up, “did some one say goblins?”
You stop for a quick removal of the wagon and its occupant. Saying last rites over the body and are on your way. Camp is found again and watches are kept. Sometime in the night, you can hear some howling of dogs to the south but they are a long distance away.
November 16.
Weather is still the same. Warm and sunny. Traveling through these majestic pines is getting somewhat wearisome but it could be worse you could have suffered the fate of that poor merchant man of yesterday.
November 17.
Morning soon after you leave your nights' camp, you come upon a trail that branches onto Kings Road. It was probably a deer trail at one time, but someone or something has widened it considerably. It has left a swath about 50 ft wide of downed trees and crushed under the underbrush. Looking back up the trail to the east it stretches on farther than you can see. Looking at the ground, you see hundreds of tracks. Small booted footprints. Dog tracks. Barefoot tracks of 5 toed people and a ton of wagon wheel tracks with a few horse tracks here and there probably hauling the wagons. Back east on the trail, you notice that the trees have mostly been cut down out of this armies way but a few of them are somewhat disturbing. They seem to split as if broken by a great wind that nearly uprooted some of the smaller ones. They came out of the east and turned south onto Kings Road heading to Catterick. By the way it looks from the tracks that have hardened in the sun, these tracks are 2-3 days old. Camp this evening brings unrest to your people. They are a little on edge by what they have seen today. The fact that Gorath sometimes bursts out in hysterical laughter isn’t helping the matter. The first sign that the light was still on in that head of his. Nightshade after sometime can no longer stand the bursts of laughter and gags Gorath rather roughly.
November 18.
It is late evening when you get to Catterick, you have followed the tracks of the army the entire way. So it is no shock that you find Catterick in tatters. The gates to the city stand wide open, knocked off their hinges by a battering ram. Fires still burn and flare as they consume what is left of the city. The city looks as if a thick fog has rolled in but it is just the gloom of smoke that hangs over it. You pass through the gates of Catterick. Bodies littered everywhere. Catterick was a city of a thousand people with 50 knights and 100 soldiers guarding it. No more. Children, women and the knights that defended the city lie strewn about. The attackers also lie here. Gnomes. Small wiry, somewhat yellowish looking Gnomes riding wargs mostly. A few here and there riding a horse. No one seems to be alive in here. The tang of smoke scratches at your throat. Duke Geoffrey’s castle is not far from here a block or so. As you travel, down the length of the block you can see a statue of Geoffrey standing before the castle. The iron statue has been hit with an incredible amount of heat. Its hands, once outstretched toward the heavens now sag pointing to ground. Its head melted and face oozing down to its chest. He has a slight lean to the left ,one leg melted away. The castle doors stand open, beckoning you.
(Upon the assumption that someone will look in here, since it seems the army made a beeline for the castle, I will write what you find here.)
The castle is old made of stone but quite worn by the look of it. It has the typical type of gargoyles that you would expect on a castle. These though show the wear of time. Many missing ears and features that are distorted. The doors are open as if someone opened them for them. They show no signs of battering. Passing through the doors leads you into a open reception type area. Seems the gnomes got quite a reception here. There are more gnome bodies in here than there are scattered about the town. You step over many, slipping some on the blood soaked floor. The Duke main chamber is next. More dead gnomes and many dead humans. This looks as if this is where they made their last stand before they fell to defeat. His throne is not really more that an elaborate looking oaken chair. It lies on its side across the room. You search around for a minute or two, looking for the Dukes body. Talorc calls out a minute later. “Over here. Something strange.” You come to stand next to Talorcs side. Duke Geoffrey is lying on the floor face down. His right hand outstretched to the wall and through it. Looking back the way that he came, you can tell that he dragged himself here. There is a line of blood from the throne to here where he died. His sword lies in front of the throne, as if laid there. As near as you can tell Geoffrey, mortally wounded, tried to get to this spot in the wall before he died. Carlin gently rolls him over to see if it is really Geoffrey. The hand in the wall moves as well.
“Definitely Geoffrey all right” Carlin reports to no one in particular.
Nightshade and Tieron squat down next to the spot on the wall. Both stare at it intensely for a moment. Tieron reaches out and touches the wall around the arm. His hand does not pass through.
“I thought illusion but that does not seem to be the case.” Tieron says. “I find no traps about it either but that doesn’t mean there isn’t one.”
Nightshade looks up and agrees, “No traps that I can see either.”
(I leave you there a small puzzle to solve. If you wish to explore the city more just say so. There could be a few things of value left lying around and not consumed by flame. Just tell me where you are going. Geoffrey doesn’t seem to have much on him. His plate armor, his bastard sword lying by the throne and maybe what is on the hand that is part of the wall.)
Slowly almost painfully slowly, Nightshade pulls the dead hand of Duke Geoffrey from the wall. It comes out of the wall without a sound. Clearly on the hand is a signet ring. It is solid gold with a large block of gold on top. Carved into that block of gold is an emblem of a dragon. The dragon’s tail is wrapped around its sinuous body coiling back on itself many times. A few cuts and bruises adorn the hand but nothing else. Carefully, Nightshade removes the ring from the dukes hand. She touches it against the wall and it slides through without so much as a push, as if the wall was really air. Nightshade removes her hand.
“Shall we?” Nightshade intones, looking directly at Tieron.
Tieron’s look is difficult to judge a mixture of curiosity and fear maybe. Nightshade doesn’t give him much of a chance to refuse. Grabbing his hand and giving a great pull to knock him off balance. Nightshade steps through the wall and pulls Tieron after. There is no feeling as you pass into and out of the wall. Like stepping through a doorway, nothing more. You find yourselves inside a small room no more than 10 foot by 10 foot. It is carved from the same grey stone that the castle itself is made of. No windows of any kind in the room. Only five objects are in the room. An arrow for a longbow, made of a golden wood and flecked with red, feathers a bright red color but slowly after watching turn to a solid gold and then back again. The arrow head cast of a metal that is part steel and most likely mitheral. The edge of the head, very finely sharpened gleaming wickedly. Another arrow, this for a short bow, a somewhat smaller duplicate of the longbow arrow. A crossbow bolt, fitted for a heavy crossbow. Its colorings matching the first arrows. A stone, rounded and smoothly polished, fitted with a cap of the same metal as the arrowheads, formed to a point. The stone itself pulses with a deep red color. Finally, a test tube holder with 6 test tubes filled with a black liquid.
From outside, in a muffled sort of way, you hear Talorc and Keridwynne saying “are you all right?”
A mischievous grin plays over the lips of Nightshade. She rams her head back out the wall and says “Just fine.”
Talorc and Keridwynne jump from the shock of a head coming through the wall. Nightshade pulls her head back inside. Tieron has moved over and is staring intensely at the objects.
“Don’t see anything obvious that is going to kill us,” he states.
Deftly he scoops them up in a bag. Nightshade moves about the walls as if looking for something. She touches the other three walls but her hand is solid and doesn’t pass through. She touches Tieron again and they pass out of the room arm in arm. Talorc is doing all those nasty things that he seems to enjoy, eviscerating bodies and storing parts and more parts in his pack. Keridwynne is not currently in the room but you can see her moving about the gnome bodies in the other room.
Keridwynne, while Nightshade and Tieron were in the other room. You started moving about the bodies to see if any of them still lived. Looking over the Duke’s men, you found no one still alive. You stepped out of the room and back into the reception area. Still searching for signs of life, you came upon a Gnome whose eyelids twitched a bit as you passed by. Bending over, you see that it is still alive. He is thin and yellow of flesh, with eyes that are slightly large for its face. His leather armor is bloody but of a higher quality than that of his companions. He also wears a yellow sash across his chest. Keridwynne binds the wounds to prevent him from dying and then locating some rope from her pack. She quickly ties him up. Stepping back into the room, she looks over at Talorc, then noticing that Tieron and Nightshade are also back in the room. Talorc stares at you for quite sometime, his eyes growing wider.
“What?” Keridwynne questions in a why are you staring at me sort of voice.
Talorc starts and shakes his head. (Talorc, See private note for explanation)
“Nothing” he mutters.
“Found a Gnome that was still alive out there. Could be important he seems better dressed that the rest. I tied him up securely. “ Keridwynne continues, “Find anything in there?” pointing to the wall that Nightshade and Tieron just passed through.
Tieron holds up a bag. “yep a few things.”
Carlin walks in, “Bad news, I’m afraid. I wanted to see where the army went from here so I followed the wagon tracks out of town a ways. They turned due east on a direct line for the Yorkshire Moors, same place we are going. “
(OK, that’s it for now. Are you hanging out for awhile and identifying the stuff you found or searching the town for some other things or taking off to continue the hunt for Jeron.)
Talorc.
When Keridwynne came back into the room, you saw a Elven female, beautiful and dressed in black leather armor. She carried a violin in one hand and the bow for it in the other. She had blondish hair that flowed down her back and seemed to be stirring in the wind. Then she spoke with Keridwynnes voice and the image turned back into Keridwynne. It was no one that you ever have seen before that you can remember.
About the Sword that Geoffrey had, it seems to be placed there for no particular purpose that you can see. It is a bastard sword and a nice one but non magical. Moving it around doesn’t see to do anything.
Nightshade moves swiftly away from the party and enters the room of the fading wall. Half an hour later, she emerges into the light. She says she found no traps of any sort and then starts to head for the spiral staircase that leads upward to the next floor.
Talorc and Keridwynne spends most of the night hauling bodies into the antechamber along with Flint and Carlin.
Gorath spends his evening in chains as usual, wrapped up in a blanket. He has a look of utter fear on his face, but for him there is little that you can do. He jumps at even the slightest noise and the gentlest of movements.
Keridwynne leans over the Gnome, words of healing spread across him and he falls into a deep sleep.
“He will wake by morning, I would guess. By the way, Tieron, I will take that White cloak with the pin for I trust that my goddess will protect me from this cloak pin of doom. We happen to be the same height and my cloak is a dark brown so if you would like to trade that would be fine. “ Keridwynne states.
Tieron shrugs noncommittally and traipses off to find the dukes clothing. He returns to the party about 2 hours later and quickly falls asleep. Carlin and Flint come in from burying the dead with Keridwynne and Talorc. Talorc and Keridwynne soon follow. Talorc takes the first watch, followed by Flint and then Carlin. Sometime during Carlins watch Nightshade returns.
It is about noon now on the day of November 19, 522. All of you have awakened for the day.
Nightshade starts, “In my travels, last night, I found several things of interest. These pages I found in the southwest tower. They have magic symbols on them, but I am not sure what they mean.”
She hands the papers to Tieron.
“Looking out the window of the tower, I noticed that there was still 10 feet of tower yet, so I searched the room for secret doors. Not finding any I scaled the outside of the tower to another window and got in. I found a lot of books there but nothing useful. I looked at this room too for doors and found a staircase leading away from it. I followed it down. At the bottom of the staircase, I found a Knight, long dead clutching this in his fingers.”
She holds out a mirror. Carved of a dark wood with a long slender handle, the mirror set perfectly into it, with a small lip of wood all around it holding it into place. The carvings along the handle are of people, one certainly is the face of Duke Geoffrey. The other is an old man, very wrinkled with sparse but still curly hair. A short cropped beard covers the rest of his face. His eyes even in this representation are clear and bright as if studying you.
Tieron says, “I don’t know what these papers are but they are not mage oriented, there are no symbols I can identify.”
“Let me look at them then, could be clerical in nature. Could I also look at the arrows and the potions that we got yesterday, I wanted to see how magical they are and the mirror too if you would.” Keridwynne states.
The objects are spread out on the floor and Keridwynne weaves the spell of detect magic. She looks down at the objects and quickly turns away, shielding her eyes.
“Somebody pick up those arrows and sling stone, I can’t see anything but their glow.”
Talorc reaches down and scoops up the arrows and stone and turns around, using his body as a shield for the magic that is emanating from them.
“Those arrows and stone have a great deal of magic in them. The potions have strong magic in them. The mirror is a moderate strength and the papers here are moderate to low magic.” Keridwynne says, “maybe someone should pick up a heavy crossbow so that the crossbow bolt can be used if we need it.”
Nightshade reaches down and picks up the mirror.
“Well, maybe we should see what happens if somebody looks into it.” Nightshade says, “any volunteers?”
She looks around nobody seems eager to volunteer.
“OK, I will, but if something happens so that I cant seem to break away. Take it away from me. “
Nightshade looks at the mirror. It reflects her face for an instant and then the images turns to a grey mist.
Nightshade looks up, “Nothing but grey mist swirling around.”
Talorc suggests, “could be crystal ball like. Trying thinking of somebody or something.”
Nightshade looks at him from under her eyebrows and stares back into the mirror. The grey mist appears and then starts to swirl and clear. A clear image of Talorc is shown in the reflection.
“That works.”
Nightshade looks up and the image is lost. She looks back down. “Jeron,” she says under her breath. The image swirls and begins to clear. Tieron and everybody that can crowd around Nightshade is now looking at the mirror. Jerons image is presented. He is a cell with grey stone walls. In the middle of the room he is hung by his wrists from chains, his feet not quite touching the ground. He is has no shirt on but still is dressed from the waist down. There is a blindfold on his eyes or maybe it is a bandage as it is soaked in blood. Some excess blood is trickling down from underneath it, making it look like bloody tears cascading down his face. Nightshade looks away and the image is lost. She looks a little pale as she puts the mirror in her pack. Tieron says nothing but starts gathering up his things as if to go.
Keridwynne is the first to interrupt the silence that came over the group. She holds up the papers. “Clerical scrolls.” she says, “Entangle, Pass without Trace, Goodberry, Plant Growth, and Hallucinatory Forest. Not that may mean a whole lot to any of you, just thought you would like to know.”
Nightshade wanders over to the Gnome. He is awake and looks at her with a look of revulsion.
“I am not even going to screw with this,” she says.
She pulls out a needle and bottle of liquid. She inserts the needle slowly into the bottle and withdraws the last of its contents. She leans over to the now wide-eyed Gnome and inserts the needle slowly and painfully into his arm. He winces from the injection.
“He will be very cooperative in about 15 minutes.” she says.
She turns back to the others and begins to start packing up her things.
Everybody has packed and is ready to go. Nightshade returns to the Gnome. His eyes have rolled somewhat back into his head and are extremely glassy in appearance.
“Who are you?” Nightshade demands.
The Gnome looks up slightly, “I am Captain Zariss, in charge of the left phalanx of the 5th legion of the Army of Righteousness.”
“What is the Army of Righteousness?”
“An army dedicated to the return of Ashler, god of all that would be.”
“Who leads this army?”
“Ashlers chosen ones, the clerics of Ashler. Lead by the High priest Montossey and his Queen. Queen Margawse of the Orkney Islands.”
“Where is your destination?”
“The Yorkshire Moors, to block the eastern entrance of the moors to prevent the shapechangers from escaping the great purge and to prevent a group of Adventurers from entering to aid them.”
“Describe the adventurers.”
“A white haired female human cleric dedicated to the false goddess, the lady of Lake. A sniveling half-Elven male, brother to the traitor Jeron. A toothy half-Elven male with a short temper and very strange magic. An ugly Elven female, who passes as a thief.”
“What are the weaknesses of this army?”
“None, they have been eliminated by the destruction of Catterick.”
“How did the destruction of Catterick serve this purpose?”
“Catterick was the only army close enough to help the adventurers. With the elimination of Catterick, the adventurers have no one but themselves to destroy our army. A feat not likely to happen. No other army could arrive before the great purge commenced. The death of Duke Geoffrey cuts off any help that they could have from the cleric Doniel as well. “
“The Cleric Doniel?” Nightshade asks.
“Ex leader of the Yorkshire Moor fortress. Ex-cleric to Ashler and now renegade that inhabits the Moors.”
Keridwynne pipes up, “Is there a dragon traveling with your army?”
“Yes, a young red dragon named Verminard flying aerial reconnaissance to spot and stop adventurers.”
Nightshade speaks again, looking rather surprised by Keridwynne’s question.
“Who let you into Catterick?”
“No one, we battered the gates of the city down with a battering ram. The knights retreated to the castle and barred themselves in. We rounded up women and children and anyone we could find and started killing them in the courtyard until the knights opened the castle and launched an assault on us. They killed many of us but we badly outnumbered them and slew them to the last knight.”
“What do you know of the hydra medallions?”
“Holy symbols of Ashler, carried by his clerics and sometimes used to monitor the wearer and help them make the right decisions to the path of Righteousness.”
Tieron speaks up, “What of the “traitor” Jeron? What do you mean?”
“Jeron Highstep, infiltrator of Ashler’s cause and thief of the Sword of Ashler.”
(With the help of Laura, I answered all the questions that Nightshade sent and a few more that Laura could think of. If there are more, that I missed ask them. Also I will need to know if you kill this gnome or let him free or what you did to him?)
Early afternoon, November 19.
Having dealt with Captain Zariss, you pack up your horses and Gorath and set out for the Yorkshire Moors. The day has turned cold as you turn east, the wind blowing at your back, it is spitting a little snow every now and then. Cloaked heads hanging down over your horses, you travel east for the remainder of the day. The country that your travel through is flat but at least trees cover your passage. You have been traveling downhill most of the day as the land slopes downward to the sea. It starts to steepen, fairly rapidly as you approach the moors. A few glimpses of the moors are starting to appear and with it the movement of creatures. Gnomes and plenty of them. Circling high overhead, you see the form of a dragon wheeling and turning about the sky. You camp in a brushy area well hidden from aerial view and well off the path. You light no fire as night approaches and feast this evening on iron rations. In contrast to you, the army below has lit many fires. Carlin counts the fires and estimates about 10 gnomes to a fire. He guesses roughly a thousand men. Flint suggests that you could try to come into the moors by another direction. Carlin states that the other ways are filled with quicksand and bogs that make travel impossible unless you can fly.
(I leave you here to contemplate your problem.)
Nightshade wanders up the spiral staircase leading to the next floor. She sees several portraits of people that she doesn't know but assumes them to be important to the history of this place. She starts entering into several doors and finds that most of them would see to be servants' quarters and thoroughly ransacked by the look of overturned beds and dresser contents lying strewn about. She wanders through more rooms and more rooms. She comes to the end of the corridor and finds her way into a castle tower, winding her way up the staircase she approaches the top of the tower. She finds herself in a small circular room. This too has been ransacked by the look of it. A small wooden desk lies smashed against the wall. A lantern is hanging by a peg in the wall giving off the only light in here. A notebook, pen and inkwell are scattered about the room. Nightshade reaches down to look at the papers. Notes on spells, she concludes. Archaic little symbols that Talorc and Tieron like to study from. She collects the sheets, 5 total. A cold wind comes through the only window. Odd she thinks why leave a window open in November. It is pretty chilly in here. On a hunch she looks out the window. About 10 feet down, she can see the roof of the main castle, looking up she can see another 10 feet of tower. Strange more tower and no way to get there from here. There has to be a way. She searches the room intensely, looking for secret doors but to no avail. There just don't seem to be any. She looks back out the window. The wall could be climbable but somewhat dangerous. Then she notices something, there are little niches for hand and foot holds carved into the side of the tower that lead in a corkscrew pattern around the tower. On the assumption that they must lead somewhere she scrambles out the window, following the niches around the tower. The wind out here is gentle but still annoying as it whips her cloak around her feet. She spirals out away from the main castle and looks down now to see that if she falls it is no longer a 10 foot drop to the roof of the castle but a 40 foot drop to the ground. She looks up and sees a window coming around into view. The first rays of sunlight are just starting to lighten up the eastern sky. The blackness of night is being replaced by the early morning dark purples.
She reaches the window and scampers in. Here is the object of her search, a circular room full of books and papers. She sees no one here but is ready for something to happen. That window downstairs wouldn't be open if someone didn't flee up here. She starts around the room carefully. There is a small desk in here and an unlit lantern resting on it. The chair that is resting in front of it has been pushed back in under the desk. Nightshade continues to look. Her eyes scan, like only a thief's can and she sees a small puddle of blood next to one of the bookcases. The blood has long since dried, but it does not seem to lead anywhere. She backtracks the blood to the window a spot here and spot there. Someone did make it up here but now they had left by use of a hidden staircase by that bookshelf. She starts looking at the books, many on history, some on magic and a lot of official journals on court proceedings and treasury balances. Still nothing of great interest to her. Time to follow whoever it was that came this way. She moves around to the bookcase and spends a little time locating the catch switch that is on the top of the case. With a flick of her hand she releases it and the bookcase swings open a bit. Here the dried blood trail, picks up again. She looks down the staircase and wonders how it could be hidden throughout the tower and show no signs of it from the other levels of the tower. Magic maybe. She starts down. The blood travels down about 3 levels before Nightshade notices that the person she follows had to place a hand against the wall and left a mighty fine handprint in dried blood. The hand is human sized with long fingers, probably male from the size of the print. He is losing a lot of blood and by now he is dead but where was he going and why did he keep pushing himself to keep moving. She follows down another floor and there she finds the object of her search. A human male, from his armor, a knight, quite dead. He never made it to wherever he was going. He lost his balance on the top of this flight of steps and fell to the bottom. There, unconscienceous he died from blood loss.
Nightshade steps around the body to inspect it. His plate armor is badly damaged from many dents and cuts that he took in battle. He no longer wears a helmet or gloves or shoes for that matter. Must have taken them off to climb the outside of the tower. An impressive feat for someone in plate mail. The wound that killed him is in his upper right chest a sword stroke that cuts through his armor into his chest and exited out the back. His broadsword lies in its scabbard at his side. In his left hand he clutches a very ornate looking mirror. Carved of a dark wood with a long slender handle, the mirror set perfectly into it, with a small lip of wood all around it holding it into place. The carvings along the handle are of people, one certainly is the face of Duke Geoffrey. The other is an old man, very wrinkled with sparse but still curly hair. A short cropped beard covers the rest of his face. His eyes even in this representation are clear and bright as if studying you. Why would anyone die for this you wonder. No telling for right now. So you pry, the fingers off the handle and place it carefully amongst your stuff. You turn to the wall and give it a push. It opens very easily and you find yourself in the kitchen area on the first floor, which is good for you are hungry and it is time for breakfast. You grab a quick bite from here because no one is going to eat it before it spoils anyway and return to the group. Carlin is on watch, he nods to you and you pull up a sleeping bag and slumber until noon.
The two of you, Carlin and Flint spend the better part of the night, shuffling bodies around. You clear the room about 2 in the morning. Tieron retired to bed at 1 am. Nightshade has yet to return. You solemnly lift the body of Duke Geoffrey and carry it out into the night. You spend a little time digging a grave and place Geoffrey into the grave. A few words are said by Keridwynne and you turn to return to the castle and to bed. As you pass by the melted statue of Geoffrey, something bothers Talorc. Why is the statue tipped back at a near 45 degree angle. Surely they couldnt have constructed it that way.
Carlin and Flint stop to wait for you. Flint mutters "are you coming?"
"Go on, I'll catch up." Talorc says.
Keridwynne says "ya go on. I'll keep an eye on Talorc."
They depart across the yard and into the castle doors.
"So whats bothering you, Talorc?"
"I know a bit about spellcasting. Now say that a fireball was cast here. Its effect centers on the object and explodes. The statue shouldnt be pushed back like that. Even if the statue was hit by a non direct fireball, it would be scorched but not melted. So...."
"So," Keridwynne continues, "it would have to have been hit by a sustained blast of heat that would have enough force to melt the statue and then force the now semi-melted statue backward to this position. But what could do that? A wand perhaps but most wands that deal with heat are probably fireball type wands. So what you need is something that shoots a blast of heat for a period of time."
"Right." Talorc gets a strange look on his face. He rushes to the front of the castle and looks carefully at it. Searching the front of the castle as if looking at a never before seen Van Gogh.
"So, lets put this together," he starts, "Something that shoots a blast of fire for a sustained burst that spreads out in a cone effect, judging from the burn patterns on the front of the castle." says Talorc.
Keridwynne continues "And probably has big sword-sharp teeth and talons that can rend open stubborn castles."
"Think of anything like that?" asks Talorc.
"Nah." they harmonize.
You wander up the stairs in search of a cloak, still mulling over Keridwynnes offer. You hear some rummaging going on, figuring that Nightshade has this floor covered, you continue up the stairs to the 3rd floor. Many doors and many Bed chambers do you pass through before finding the Dukes personal quarters. None of the rest of the places had much of interest. Just a bed, sometimes two for shared quarters. A few articles of clothing but no cloaks that fit well. The Dukes Quarters were another story. His canopied bed was enormous covering half of the 30 by 30 foot room. He has an oak wardrobe standing in one corner and a walk in closet. Both of these look like a good place to start. Rummaging through the wardrobe brings nothing but a lot of underwear and socks. Stepping into the closet, you spy long rows of clothing hanging neatly from bars. You have no trouble finding a cloak. There are many colors even, dark blues, royal reds, forest greens to black. You have your choice, or take as many as you want for he has no further use for them. You are about to leave, when your half elven eyes catch the sight of a seam in the wall of the closet that doesnt quite jive with the rest of the design. You look at it closely. Secret door, no doubt about it but very small, no more that a foot square. It is a simple thing to unlatch just looking at the design of it. You stop your hand just before you spring the latch. Traps, stupid. Look for traps. You say to yourself. You take some extra time probing for springs and trip wires. Nothing that you can find. Only then do you let yourself spring the latch. It creaks open. Inside is red velvet bag. You scrutinize this as well before lifting it from its place. It seems to have an object in it about the size of a walnut, a little oblong and with sharp edges. Just from feeling from the bag, it is about probably a jewel of some kind. Carefully you open the gold drawstrings of the bag and pour the contents into your hand. It is a jewel and what a jewel. It is black like a still pond at night, it reflects and shines the light away from it. Quite valuable from the look of it. Most probably a diamond of some kind you think as you put it back in its bag and return to the party.
You left the gnome in the room without an exit back at the castle with a weeks worth of food and water.
Late evening November 19, 522
Having decided that maybe you could contact Doniel through the mirror that you have acquired. Keridwynne lifts the mirror and thinks of Doniel. The mirror swirls and then clears. The mirror’s range of vision is limited but the face of Doniel appears. He is old, even older than the carving represented on the handle of the mirror. His face is very lined. His hair is almost gone now, but a few stray wisps of black still remain.
“Can you hear me?” Keridwynne asks.
Doniel looks up and then stands up. He crosses the room that he is in, moving to a table that is filled with odds and ends. He lifts a mirror much like the one that you have.
“Who are you?” comes the reply “ and where is Duke Geoffrey?” The voice did not come from the mouth the mirror but the carving in the handle. As you speak you notice that the carving’s mouth is moving.
“I am Keridwynne. I am afraid that Duke Geoffrey is dead. Which leads me to why we are contacting you. A large army of Gnomes and a Dragon laid waste to Catterick, killing Geoffrey. We happened upon the site en route to the Yorkshire Moor and found this mirror and a Gnome. After interrogation by us, the Gnome revealed that they destroyed Catterick to make sure that we did not get to talk to you. For we are trying to infiltrate the fortress in the Yorkshire Moors and rescue a friend of ours trapped inside. You are supposed to have information that could be useful to us. “
“I see. Then let us meet. Take the path into the moors on the eastern side and follow it to the camp of the lizardmen. I can meet you there.”
“There is problem with that. We are on the eastern side of the moors and the Gnome army has camped there preventing our passage. The dragon is flying. We assume searching for us.”
“That is indeed a problem. Travel south around the moors and be careful of the bogs and quicksand. You will see a cottonwood tree so large that there will be no mistaking it. It has a hole in it at the base of the tree. The moss that hangs down from its branches covers the hole. Part the moss and walk into it and you will find a raft and poles that will hold 10 people and equipment but not your horses. Launch the raft and follow the current in the bogs. The raft will almost guide itself, just use the poles to get yourself unstuck from the sand bars that will be in your way. The bogs will give way to a river and the river will split in two. In the center of the split is an island. I will be there. It will take most of the day to get to the island once that you have secured the raft. So I will see you tomorrow evening. Should you need me, you still have the mirror. Good luck and avoid the dragon and army and the bog monsters and...” He trails off. The mirror mists and clears again. Now revealing Keridwynnes face again.
Keridwynne says, “I am going to see if I can contact my sons, Castor and Pollux.”
The image in the mirror clears and then reforms into mist revealing nothing.
Tieron says, “Could they be blocking it somehow? or maybe it has a range?”
Keridwynne shrugs and stows the mirror back in her pack.
(So are you traveling by night tonight or waiting until tomorrow night. Are you going to follow Doniels instructions or find another way to the island. Or something else entirely? Like say infiltrating the army?)
After an hour’s rest, you start to travel again. Striking out around the moors, you pick your way carefully through trees covered in moss. The frogs and other creatures talking to each other in the night, you find that night is anything but silent. Eyes follow you sometimes but soon depart in search of easier game. You sight the dragon sometimes but he seems to be concentrating his search in the eastern section of the moors, obviously thinking that you would not be so foolish as to try to enter the swamp any other way. Even still, you are wary of him, taking cover when you think that he approaches to near. Travel is hard. Frequently you have to backtrack for several minutes after finding a particularly boggy area. As you continue to circle around to the south, the way becomes wetter and wetter. Now your horses travel in ankle deep water. Nightshade has taken the lead, citing better infravision for travel.
It all happens quickly but every moment stands out now. Following Nightshade, you were moving around a stretch of bog on either side. A cry from Flint at the back was the signal that something was wrong. Turning around to see what had happened, you see that Flints horse had stumbled on something and tripped. The horse didn’t recover its balance in time and fell. Flint was thrown and tossed deeply into the bog. You dismount and Tieron pulls a rope from his pack. His toss is very accurate landing just inches from Flint. Flint grabbed the rope and started to haul himself back to the drier land.
“Shit, something is alive in here.”
His statement was very true. Exploding out of the muck and grime came eight tentacles. Black as the night that you ride in, they came. Covered in thorns almost like a rose’s stem, they came. First one latched on to Flint and then another, Tieron pulled for all he was worth on the other end of the rope and spurred his horse forward. The horse strained to move forward but started to backslide toward the bog. Keridwynne and Nightshade ran for the rope and with their added pull stopped Tierons and his horses advancement toward the bog. Whatever this thing was it was incredibly strong. Talorc and Carlin in the same instant, pulled theirs swords and started forward.
Gorath looked up to see Talorc bearing down on the creature. His action was swift. His feet hobbled but loose enough to allow for riding, he kicked Talorc in the face as he went by. The action spun Talorc around and he stumbled in the slick ground. More surprised than hurt, Talorc regained his footing but that simple action probably cost Flint his life. Carlin fought the creature as best he could but was struck by a flurry of tentacles that drove him back. Talorc arrived to in time to save Carlin from being driven back into the bog on the other side. The creature folded its tentacles down over Flint and submerged with a sucking sound. Only the rope, still taut with exertion showed where Flint had been and then it too snapped and Nightshade, Tieron and Keridwynne lurched back a step as the rope went slack.
You stand and stare for a time at the spot in the swamp where Flint lost his life. The swamp is silent now, somehow sensing the loss of life that just occurred.
Talorc is the first to speak, “Lets move on before it claims another of us.” His tone is flat and lifeless. He walks forward toward his horse, as he passes Gorath he kidney punches him. Gorath slumps over his horse and groans for a minute or two as the rest of you remount. As you start to travel again, Gorath starts to laugh a low hissing type of laugh. In between giggles, he says, “That’s one, how many more before will you lose to Yorkshire?” He laughs some more.
No one talks much for the next hour of travel.
“That must be it.” Nightshade exclaims. You follow her eyes to the spot that she is looking at. A tree taller than any that you have ever seen rises out of the night stretching its limbs out as if to grasp for the moon. Large sheets of moss hang like curtains from its lower branches. Nightshade leads on. It takes a full 10 minutes of riding to reach it. All the time, it loomed higher and higher, by the time that you approached it, it is probably standing close to 300 feet high. Its trunk at the ground must measure a good hundred feet around. You approach and part its curtains. True to Doniels word, there is a hole in the barrel of this tree. Its opening is large enough to allow entry into it. Nightshade steps inside and lights a torch.
“Good God” she says, “Come in here, you have to see this to believe it.”
You all step forward and into the tree. The cavern is huge, setting in the center of the cavern is a raft about 10 feet by 10 feet with 10 foot long poles laying next to it. The raft, extremely large is dwarfed by the room it is housed in. A good 50 feet by 50 feet in diameter at its largest rounded point. You look up to the ceiling. It arches away from you a good 100 feet straight up.
“Bring the horses in here and everything else. The dragon will never see us in here and we should be able to rest in peace.” Carlin states and then hangs his head down as he remembers Flint.
The sun rose not long after you went to sleep. Talorc took first watch and woke Carlin at midday to take second watch. Nightshade awoke about 10 minutes before her turn for watch and relieved Carlin early. She later reports that the dragon flew over the area but never landed.
Nightshade,
It is your watch, while you are still at the large cypress tree. You start to hear a mumbling. It seems to be coming from Talorc. After a time, you realize that it is not Talorc, but the sword Bladifors that is speaking. It keeps changing languages as it speaks. As you approach his speech starts in English.
"Trapped in here forever, with someone that will never understand me. I have all the time in the world but never enough time to make them love me. (Elven) I can't stand the loneliness of eternity. Somewhere someone will come and take me away from all this. Release me from this prison or join me here of their own will. (Dwarven) Is this so much to ask? Why doesn't Altira understand this? That together we would be better than she could imagine. (Gnomish) We would be a power that no one could stand against. But she fights me and separate we are weaker. No goals and no aims. Trapped in a city of halflings buried alive, with no voices caressing our souls. We nearly died there. (Hafling) Only the idle conversation fed us a bone. But now Talorc and friends have come and released us from this hell. Their voices will carry us to new heights of power. (Dragon) Soon my powers will be strong enough to wipe the memories of both Altira and Talorc and the three of us will carve this world up. Ashler will kneel before us. (Goblinoid) Camelot will tremble at our arrival. We will rule, Altira and I. When Talorcs time comes, we will discard him and find another and another. (Pixie) I could force Talorc to find me a way out of this place and then I could rule as a human again. Altira would be at my side. The wind blowing in my hair. (Centaur) Now that would feel good. On second thought, I could leave Altira in the sword and then her powers would take over the sword. I wonder what powers it would have then. (Drow) It would be an interesting experiment. I would love to try. Altira, why don't you love me. Life would be so much simpler. I want you so badly. I want out so badly. I want Talorc to find a way to release me. (Druid) I want, I want ....a great many things but am stopped by this bitch in the sword. There is an Elven female over there, I wonder if she will love me? I wonder if she will take me? (Arabic) I will mark her with the power of eternity. I will have her join me forever. I will love her. (Elven) Do you hear me, Nightshade? I love you. Soon you will come to me and be mine forever for you are the only one to understand me, Nightshade. Only you."
The sword bursts to green flame momentarily. You feel pain in the side of your neck that then flows throughout your body. You look into the mirror and see a small sword shaped tattoo, tip pointing downward into green flame on your neck. You have been marked by Bladifors.
Keridwynne and Tieron bend over to look into the mirror.
"Arcton" Keridwynne says.
The mirror responds by revealing the face of Arcton. He is just as Keridwynne remembered, an extended muzzle that reveals rows and rows of triangular shaped teeth. His eyes set above that, black and pupilless. His face covered in small scales that befit his race. But today those scales are covered in blood. In his hands a quarterstaff, come down hard on the head of a Gnome. It explodes like a ripe melon. Arcton turns his head to the side and in the mirror you can see a steady glow of light. In Arctons eyes you can see a wash of flame pouring out of the skies and then the form of a dragon cruises by. Arcton looks back down the gnome that was killed. His muzzle contracts and his height starts to reduce. He takes the form of the dead gnome. He scoops up the body of the gnome and moves quickly into the swamp. He tosses the body into a pool of quicksand. It sinks rapidly and is gone. He turns and walks back to the battle, which now looks as if it is over. He forms himself into a rank of Gnomes and they start to march off. You watch him walk for a time. Quite often you see him, nod or wink as if acknowledge someone.
"Arcton, This is Keridwynne. Nod if you can hear me."
Arcton nods once, looking rather confused.
"We are in the swamp about to find Doniel. Just thought I would let you know we are here and trying to help."
The gnomish looking, Arcton nods once more and the mirror fades out.
"I was going to tell him that an army was coming his way but I think that he already knows that," Keridwynne says.
Keridwynne hands the mirror to Tieron.
"Jeron," he speaks.
The image of Jeron appears. He is no longer hung by his wrists but is lying on the floor. His wrists are heavily scarred from where the cuffs have cut into him. He still wears little just a loincloth. His eyes covered with a bloody bandage. An elven female, beautiful by anyones standards is here with him. Blonde hair flowing past her shoulders, wearing leather armor, more for show than any real value. Her upswept ears coming to fine point. Large green eyes and very long pointed fingernails painted a deep red are other features that you notice. She seems to be speaking to Jeron, who doesnt seem to acknowledge her existance. She continues to talk for sometime and then becomes more animated and agitated. Jeron hasnt moved position or even made any attempt to do anything. She starts screaming and then kicks him once and leaves. Jeron rolls over.
Tieron starts,"Jeron, Its Tieron. Hang on. We are coming to you. Hold on a little longer."
Jeron rolls over and sits up painfully.
Even though there is no sound from his voice, his lips mouthed but one word.
"Hurry"
You all awake and tend to the things that you do most every morning. Praying for some of you, Studying for others. The rest of you watch sometimes and pack at others. The sun lets loose its last rays of warmth for the day as you launch the raft. Your horses are turned out to fend for themselves. Tieron says “stay” to his horse as if that might work. He and Gates are the last to board. He grabs a pole and gives the raft a push. You float out into the bog. Night passes slowly. The dragon passes over once or twice but a mist has arisen as if to cloak your passage. It thickens the farther you penetrate the bog. Soon those standing at the back of the raft can no longer see the people at the front. Sounds are all around you. The sound of something large slipping slowly into the swamp. Birds of all kinds making sounds, some almost screeches. Frogs and bugs humming a few bars to make a kind of swamp symphony. The current increases with a lurch of speed. You must have hit the main part of the river that runs through this place. Your gentle ride through the bog has become a rather rapid race through it and you cant even see where you are going. The raft starts to slow, with a bump you hit dry land. An island in a swamp is where you stand. Nothing but trees draped in moss, surrounds you. You penetrate deeper into the woods until a natural clearing is revealed. The mist rises suddenly and you can see across the clearing. It is but a hundred yards across. A man stands in the center of the clearing. He is a tall man about 6 foot in height, but leaning heavily on his staff. His robes are white but somewhat dingy from the swamp. His face is round, with black wispy hair and a close cropped black beard with a many shots of grey streaking through it, threatening to remove any black that is left. Standing next to him is a goblinoid, large and imposing. His fangs projecting out from his closed lips. From around you, on the wooded lands step forth many goblins. They have you completely surrounded.
(well here you are)
Her features are elven and it is possible that you have never seen someone this beautiful before. Her hands move across your body like a lovers. Silken and soft, they caress your soul. Her blonde hair moves across your body leaving whorls of goose pimples in her wake. She whispers "come to me," in a voice that is not of this earth.
"He holds me here, come to me. Release your soul and come to this place and do battle for me."
Her lips brush against yours never really touching but leaving you wanting more. She is tantalizing. Always bringing you touches of more and then pulling back. Then he is there. Elven as well. He holds Bladifors in his hands. A snarl on his face, that of a jealous husband who has just found his wife in bed with another. He comes forward. Bladifors screaming for your blood. It is a feeling that you know but not from this side. She interposes herself between the two of you. He brings Bladifors down and her body discorporates into nothingness. A whirl of mist is drawn into the sword.
Then you find yourself standing before a old man with the Elven male standing next to him. Wasn't that a goblin before?
A female voice barely heard "You have traveled into the sea of waking dreams."
Doniel lifts his head, looking up at Talorc. His eyes dark and full of life look him over and then turn to the rest of the party. He turns around almost as if to walk away. The goblin standing next to him moves forward. His style of dress is highly ornamental. His black leather vest, decorated in all sorts of beads and spangles.
“First,” the goblin states in a rumbling bass voice that sets your bone vibrating in your body,” I am Taris. Doniel can not speak anymore due to a disability. If you are wondering how he spoke to you through the mirror, it is telepathic with a voice system to allow speech. I will speak for him. This is the last time I will speak to you as Taris.”
Taris turns around and walks back to stand behind Doniel who now turns around.
Again that deep bass rumbles, “I am Doniel, cleric to the lady of the lake. You came to me to answer questions that you do not even have yet. I will explain what I can. I see Gorath among you. I grieve with you for the loss that he has caused. Arcton is busy as you may no doubt know. I will see to that ones punishment, should you wish it. I was once a cleric to Ashler, before I quit and asked for atonement from the lady. I ruled that black fortress that you now seek entrance to 20 years ago, before it was sieged and left an empty shell. It held then the greatest relic to Ashler, his sword. Now it too is gone. “
Doniel moves forward toward you, coming directly over to stand facing Tieron.
Taris speaks in the background.
“Jeron, your brother, came here searching for it. He came with Corliss, his instructor. I know not the circumstances of the retrieval but retrieve it they did or so the Lady tells me in my dreams. Corliss escaped, I presume with the sword. Jeron did not. Taking captive, by Narkess, my Elven second in command when I was with Ashler. Now a commander of that dark fortress, she seeks to bring it back to its former glory. But Corliss and Jeron stole the sword from under her nose and she tortures him to reveal where Corliss can be found. “
Tieron speaks, “How can we gain entrance to the fortress and rescue Jeron? The front door is probably a bad idea as we are vastly outnumbered. Tell how to retrieve Jeron, Please.”
“You are not vastly outnumbered except by the army. The fortress only contains a minimal compliment of troops. The swamp keeps out the rest. The five of you with a little stealth and cunning could free Jeron. Narkess’s troops may number twenty men, no more. With the people, I have here we could take the fortress, but will not for Narkess holds in her arsenal the one thing that has stopped us all from expelling them from the swamp. The dragon Verminard. He is her friend and confidant. He will be here the moment that Narkess finds herself in trouble. This leads also to the reason that Catterick was destroyed. I, as you know, held the ear of Duke Geoffrey as an advisor. I asked for help in the removal of Verminard and Narkess. The Duke came upon a plan to help me. I was to contact him in a few days to implement this plan. I now will never find out what it was that he intended. Whether he was building an army to route them or something else I do not know. Remove the dragon as a threat and the fortress will fall. Mark my words though, Narkess is formidable even without her dragon for protection.”
Doniel moves now among you, his cloak swirling in the misty breeze. He pauses by Keridwynne and then moves on to face Talorc. Talorcs face is stone hard. Not an emotion flickering across it, as if he is holding something in.
“Talorc, Elven females seem to plague you. Narkess, Nightshade and Altira, she who brings you the sea of waking dreams. All swords have two edges and this one is no different.”
Doniel moves on to stand before Nightshade. He lifts his aged hand and touches Nightshades chin. He slowly pivots her head around and looks intently at her neck for a moment.
“Bladifors, is a very intelligent sword. His mark is upon you. He fears you and that is something that he respects. But he is truly insane.”
He lets Nightshade’s head drop and moves to face Keridwynne.
“Sister,” he says. Doniel bows to Keridwynne. “I have longed to talk to someone of my order for sometime now. Long ago, the lady told me that someone of our order would come to the swamp to absolve me of my sins. I hope that it is you. I have waited twenty years for this, but I will have to wait some more, I fear. You must rescue Jeron, first. The only way to do that is to enter from the south side of the fortress. It is from there that I escaped from Sir William’s group so long ago. It is now overgrown with disuse but it leads directly into my old bedchamber. I don’t know if Narkess uses it for that purpose as well but even if she does, she will not have access to it for I have the only key.”
From out of his robes, Doniel pulls forth a black stone, no larger than a pea.
“It is obsidian. Find the keyhole that it fits in the southwest corner. The wall will slide away to allow access in. I give it to you now. We will wait for you, should you need our help.”
Doniel hands the stone to Keridwynne.
“I hope to see you all again with Jeron. Are there any more questions that you would like to ask?”
Doniel moves around to face the party. His cloak flowing in the wind. From behind him, Taris speaks, “I know not whether that you need to study spells again or more rest is needed but the best time to attack is in the hours before dawn. Verminard sleeps then and it will take him several minutes to bring himself here to protect Narkess. I will create a map from memory to lead you to the dungeons where Jeron is most likely held. The guards will be at there sleepiest as well but there will still be some awake. We will engage the guards should it be neccessary ,but will have to flee if the dragon appears. Unless you have a better course of action. I and my collegues stand ready to serve you in your quest. Sleep well, I will rouse you about midnight to study and begin the journey to the Yorkshire fortress.“
(If you have other plans or dont want to do this plan, for some reason let me know. I will write turn 19 this weekend.)
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