This site is an online accumulation of the Post Reports for my current ongoing D&D Campaign - for anyone who might be interested in reading them.

Monday, November 15, 2010

Meet 114, Adv 10, 11/6/10

This was pretty much a wrap up meeting, with the group deciding to explore Cymbarton a bit as well as cash in on some of their knowledge by faking a trip to Broken Hills and giving what they knew to the guild leader. I really had no idea what the party wanted to do and although I have 3 ideas for the next adventure all lending to the title, "Shadows Run Deep" I was a bit unready for their wander around and learn stuff, any small jobs we can do, where can we go in the sandbox next idea.

I think they'll have another meeting or two in Cymbarton and then get their asses out the door and on to the next adventure. It will more straight forward and goal oriented - a MacGuffin to grab at the end of the day. But it's the MacGuffin afterwards that will come back to play a bigger part in their day to day. So I think this is the soft unofficial end of "Adventure 10".

Write up follows:

We found ourselves on a pig caravan, transporting 68 fat sows from the docks of Eider to Dry River and eventually Cymbarton. In the beginning the teamsters were reserved and quiet, not sharing conversation or food with the party. The journey was quiet and uneventful. That night we were surprised and a bit miffed to learn that the caravaners did not want to share their fire with us, nor their food (although water was plentiful). We figured out that they had been given an earful from the Baronet and not knowing us or our better achievements were under the impression that they should snub us.

Norris went through the trouble to making us a hot meal, and seeing that we hadn’t had much chance to load up on supplies before escaping town, Soren took Digger out to go hunt up some local game, eventually coming across and bagging 2 small deer. After gutting the animals he and his wolverine brought back the carcasses where Norris began making not only a heartier dinner, but also smoking some of the meat. The caravaners watched this for a few moments before the ranger offered them a share of the bounty which they took with smiles and much thanks. With their aid the animals were skinned and the skin flensed and readied for transport. Most of the remaining meat was smoked and we went to bed all feeling much better about or lot in things.

The next day was dry, the temperature unseasonably cool. Our traveling companions were friendlier today and were more than willing to chat and share. As we went along we passed the odd small thorp or village, eventually stopping near an area where the locals were willing to allow us to stay. A couple of the pigs were given as payment for lodgings, fresh hay, and other simple travelling essentials. Gwyn made a simple brace for a young man with a twisted leg and the townsfolk seemed to be appreciative of the dwarf’s efforts. More good deeds. We rested well and without complaint, the next day brought us rain and the teamsters were going to wait until as close to 11 to decide on leaving.

When the hour passed it was decided that the rain was not going to last and we should press on, which we did, arriving at the small town (550) of Dry River. Originally built at the ancient dwarven bridge site that crossed the now dry Copper Bottom River, it served as a meetup and resting point for travelers going between Eider, Principia, and Cymbarton. Most of the homes were simple, only a half dozen of them encompassing any stonework in their makeup.

We went to the brothel called the Arched Legs and then passed through to the Dry River Inn where a handful of copper and brass got us rooms for the night and some simple fare for dinner. It was here that our caravan companions informed us that they would be selling their pigs here in Dry River as they felt they could get a good price and knock off almost 4 days in round trip travel to Cymbarton. We were dismayed but understood (Gwyn eventually learning that an adult pig can be sold for around 10-15 gold each). The group settled down for the night and eventually went to sleep.

We awoke the next day and immediately set out to see if we could get on a caravan going to Cymbarton, or if we should just rent/buy horses. It turns out there was one going later on that day and they needed some guards. Norris went to smooth talk the guy, who was transporting 3 wagons of hay to the capital city and they needed a couple of guys good with a sword. Pay was 4 coppers/day/person and he would round it up to 1 silver noble for the trip there – food included. Norris took it and then went to find us to let us know.

We were just glad to be going and it was at that point that the merchant felt that we were WAY overqualified on this (I mean a half ogre, a platemail wearing priest, a king’s man, a dwarven brawler, and a bard – to guard HAY?!?!) but was thrilled to have us. We rode off and it was 2 days later we pulled into Cymbarton – no issues. 

We opted NOT to go back with the merchant but instead got directions to the adventurer’s guild as well as the local best hotel, a place called the Yawning Portal. We walked the massive city, tightly packed throng of over 50,000 local residents and even more visitors. The Adventurer’s Guild was located in Old City, just past Hillside Avenue. Once inside we went up to see the guild master, a rotund gnome named Dumethion Dracowulf.

During the journey here the group had decided to fill out the blank charter we had gotten from Sverek Falconhand of Broken Hills (before everything there had gone terribly wrong!!), naming our new incarnation of the group “Iron Bars” and declaring Soren the leader. There was a change though – three of the party members from the original Sundered Chains/Soren and Company were going to be using aliases to throw off any chance of Myrius discovering who we were.

So Soren became Gullwing, Gwyn became Steele, and Norris became Owen. Beren and Gustav of course did not change anything.

Dumethion was pleased to meet us and we handed him our charter. He read it over and noted that there was nothing wrong with it. He did ask about Broken Hills as the charter was dated about a month ago. We played quiet and dumb, telling him that we had been there for a time and that Norris’s grandfather had known Sverek’s some time ago (a line of crap but told so bald faced and only once it flew under the radar).

The guild master then told us that the last 2 caravans that had gone to Broken Hills had not come back, neither had any of the aviaries that had been sent. Even the few seers that did operate said only that there was fire and shadow involved with Broken Hills and it was clouding their sight. A bounty of 175 crowns was being raised by Baron Umbar for any group able to go to the city and bring back an explanation and maybe proof of what happened. A couple of groups had said they would go but to date, no one had come back.

We told Dumethion we would think on it and then were told some of the perks and rules of being guild members. There were 4 seers that did work/live here and we were able to go visit them for they would identify magical items if need be for a price, the first time was free. We thanked him and left.

Downstairs we met with the seers and had the assassin’s sword identified (it was not a nice blade) and Norris’ cup. Soren offered to have the blade sold to anyone who might have a magical bow they wanted to sell. Dumethion said he would send out feelers and we could have an answer tomorrow. Gustav paid to find out where Karis was (Dragonhole in the process of getting Gwyn’s old shield Steadfast for his own) and Norris paid to find out what was going on back home (Darkwaters, no one missed him and everyone felt he had died many months ago).

We left, eventually getting some sleep after Beren had gone to the Tyrian Cathedral and declaring himself ready for advancement and Norris went to the local thieves guild and just saying ‘hi!’ being recognized and left alone as a member of Blackshadow’s Guild in Eider.

The next day we rented two horses and a cart and rode north towards Broken Hills – stopping 6 hours short of the place. We came across an older man and his wife, she was badly hurt from Wyvern attack and Norris used some antitoxin to save her life. She was mended up and we left them to head on to Cymbarton. More good deeds. We slept fitfully and kept watch, making NO effort to go to Broken Hills. Then we turned around and went back to Cymbarton and right to the adventurer’s guild, telling Dumethion what we had seen, the state of Broken Hills, heck, even Norris whipped out the torn tabard he had taken from the guard there over a week ago as “proof” we had been there and what had happened. The tabard was taken to the seers and with something in their hand might be able to better tell what happened. New aviaries would be sent to Eider and Dilabria and tell them what had been learned here and maybe get their input as well. We were thanked, paid, and went on our way.

There was talk of riding to Orihalcus but as of this time, we don’t know for sure what is going to happen next.

Friday, November 12, 2010

Meet 113, Adv 10, 10/30/10

This meeting was truncated by almost an hour and a half as we had all gotten together before hand and talked about the player who ran Detheron and his personal problems. So there wasn't as much play as we would have expected.

What did come up though was the first hand view of the destoryed wreckage the party had left behind in their actions and some of the group has an idea that this "snafu" would in turn become a larger impact and defining monet as the game progresses.

We shall see...

Write up follows:

Brother Beren sat with Baronet Wodenlach, telling the pirate lord about the evils he had recently been party to and privy of in Broken Hills, affecting to his lordship the dire straits the town was in. Wodenlach took the priest at his word and agreed that if there was some reality to what he was being told, he would send an immediate response. He sent for his seer, a myopic white haired hag who had the gift of sight. The witch corroborated some of Beren’s story but also grew worried and upset over her gleaning of Orcus’ Book of Infinite Spells. She told Wodenlach of its malevolence and suggested VERY strongly that if the book was indeed there that Brother Beren do what he could to bring it back. Beren agreed.

The seer also told Beren of the gypsy Zoltan lost in the swamp and that he should try and rescue the bard/thief who needed his help. A hulking half-ogre named Gustav was introduced and Wodenlach parceled out the humongous fighter to Beren, telling his to bring back Zoltan if able to.

The two of them left and tramped about the swamp, following the witch’s clues until they found Zoltan and then brought him home once more to Eider. Zoltan spent some time talking to Wodenlach while the party of rescuers was brought together – 25 mercenaries of variable skill outfitted on 3 battle wagons pulled by 4 horse teams each. They left in the full of the dark and raced off to help Broken Hills.

Meanwhile after less than an hour of walking, the 3 guards bid Soren, Gwyn, and Norris farewells and head off towards Dilabria, trekking overland. The 3 members of the party still together stumble in the dark road for a while, meeting other refugees who had gone ahead of them. At a fire with a family of 5 they ask to share the warmth and pool what resources they have together. Norris wearily cooks up some simple travelling stew and others come out of the darkness to join the trio also sharing their food, blankets, and stories.

The next day meets them all waking up and staggering onward again. The wounded are ploddingly slow, making barely 8 or 9 miles a day. The group has now grown to over 30 and other refugees are adding to the ranks in ones and twos. Norris seems to be improving and the few spells the party gets each day they share amongst one another. Night falls after almost 90 degree heat and the evening breeze is muggy at best.

At this point the 3 battle wagons caravanning towards Broken Hills had been passing fleeing citizenry from Broken Hills, getting a picture from those they pass in snippets of horror filled telling. Beren and Gustav listen on and go over in their heads what lies ahead of them and what their needs will be. According to the captain, the caravans should be at Broken Hills tomorrow evening.

The next day the battlewagons come upon a large knot of refugees – over 40 of them. And in the mess they see Soren, Gwyn, and Norris. Heartfelt cries of welcome and what happened are shared and then Beren tells about his mission to go to Broken Hills and try to reclaim the Orcus Book. The captain wants to ride on but Soren and the other 2 do NOT want to go back to Broken Hills. Angry voices are raised and the captain flat out said – if you want to stay, fine. Stay. But we are riding on and doing it now. They are 6 hours at top speed from Broken Hills and Soren, Gwyn, and Norris get on the wagons and head back.

The party converses over the folly of this and the 3 friends explain to the priest and half-ogre what it is they saw and lived through at the mining town. At late lunch when the horses are being rested the party talks to the captain and explains in detail what is going on and what they’ll most likely see. Plans are talked about and we settle on arriving at the city tonight at 5 PM about 2-3 hours before dusk – a time when the shadows will be most active. We will go to Cornblood Keep and see if Sverek Falconhand is there and if so, what aid the mercenaries can offer. If not or he is dead, the caravan will NOT attempt heroics and instead turn back and ride away.

The 2nd thing will be to go to Murderer’s Hole and have Norris levitate down to the bottom to see if he could find the book. The same book that the party felt more and more that Bron had actually read from (but neglected to mention) and added to the woes that befell Broken Hills.

We arrived at 5 and for some time just looked at the destroyed city with open mouths and glazed eyes. Skeletal remains of homes, mud slides, fire scorched earth, thin haze of smoke rising, and the strange feeling of evil lurking about. Brother Beren calls on Tyr and makes a 10 count of the party invisible to undead – telling us that it will last almost an hour as well as the fact that if we DO encounter any undead, not to engage them as it will break the enchantment.

We then, ten of us, walk through the dead streets towards the heart of the city. We see dead, so many dead, littering the cobbles and alleys. Few buildings still stand and those that do we can hear strange movement within. There is no thought of being heroic here – only finding what we need to know and then leave.

Cornblood Keep is destroyed. The outer bailey wall is still 2/3rds standing but the barbican and gate house is a mass of rubble. The main keep within suffered the dual assaults of the dragon’s fury and the roaring fire and it is obvious that no one there still lives. Nothing lives. A few ghouls wander about, sniffing the air hungrily, their appearance still disturbingly human and normal given that they had only been turned a few days ago. We leave.

On the outskirts of town Brother Beren renews his invisibility spell to undead on the group and Norris fires up his boots, floating down Murderer’s Hole – taking almost 10 minutes to make it to the bottom. The ruins of the elevator are here as well as whatever flotsam collected at the chasm’s base. He can see both Hagni and Bor’s twisted and broken forms on the pile of wreckage – but no book.

Norris uses his wand of detecting magic and spots a glow coming from under the pile. With his bare hands he begins removing garbage and broken timbers, trying to get to the glowing item. As he was digging he made enough noise and an owlbear lumbered out of the dark. The bard levitated up just outside the beast’s reach, the angered ursine “Haaaaroooo-ing” below him. He then took out his flask of contact poison and dumped a small measure out – so the virulent caustic would strike the owlbear.

Who howled in pain and ran away, back into the darkness.

Alone again he sifted through the garbage until he found no book, but an iron cup of some sort. Pocketing it, he nodded his head at the two dead and levitated straight up – total time in the pit, almost 40 minutes.

We left Broken Hills, rejoined the caravan and rode away from town to camp far away in the wilderness. There was nothing we could do and the evil and destruction of Broken Hills was seemingly complete. The party and mercenaries would be heading back to Eider to tell Wodenlach what happened.

It was 2 days later that we arrived at Eider and saw more horrors here. A red dragon (guess which?) attacked the town almost 4 days ago. It burned the nobles district, stole the stone Olthar statue from Wodenlach’s garden, landed near South Court and flattened the party’s house and then flew off. The Baronet was badly hurt and was currently staying off the mainland at Blackshadow Manor. The group went there where they were met by Rigil Blackshadow, a host of his thieves, and Baronet Wodenlach who was nursing a broken leg and a host of bruises.

There were many angry words and the Baronet was pretty short with the group as they had caused part of this problem as well as failed to warn him of the dragon and its personal grudge with the group. It was decided that they would leave town as their presence was a possible liability and the fact that their home had been destroyed. Where they went didn’t matter, but the Pirate Lord was quite done with the Sundered Chains.

As for what they should do, the group thought about the new charter they had – signed by Sverek Falconhand and quite legal – just blank regarding their names as well as the party’s name. The party was going to go to Cymbarton by way of Dry River, stop at the adventurer’s guild there, and register but using most likely new names. And that’s where we left it – the group once again leaving a town behind them.

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Meet 112, Adv 10, 10/9/10

If I had to guess on how this adventure was going to wrap up, I would have been sitting in some other park looking at the pigeons instead of the resolution the party took us down. They have had the unfortunate luck and choices as of late to either piss off the townsfolk that they had to deal with or leave said town's in a blaze of spell fire and flash of steel.

But nothing exceeded that of dragon, storm giant, Orcus spell book fueled undead plague, set ablaze exit they had done to the beleaguered mining city of Broken Hills.

And in doing so they wiped out the adventure hooks, about every NPC, their original purpose for coming, as well as another permanent PC player (sorry Kyle!)

But they had a good time and that's all that matters to me!

Write up follows:

Bron settled at the landing of the 2nd level, his Fly spell still in force but his heart heavy over what he had been a part of. He took out the Orcus Book of Infinite Spells and realized that it is curse, not a blessing. So keeping his mind clear, he stroked the book, channeled a touch of Brittle into the oakleaf binding, and then balled up his fist and blasted every ounce of his monastic training into the book – attempting to destroy it.

And he did.

But, as the pages and binding were flying about, time seemed to slow down and then stop altogether. Standing before him shaking his head was a fairly non-descript malevolent man. He was bemoaning the fact that this was the 2nd time in as many days that he felt the need to come and see who was attempting to screw with his property. Orcus. Shit sandwich.

He then drew out a deck of battered cards and told our esteemed monk that he was going to have to draw from his deck – and then there was a clattering of a polyhedral dice – and it read “4”. Orcus grinned, “The dice have spoken. Get drawing.”

So our favorite Bron took his time and plucked out one card after another, getting 3 positives to every negative! Well done. One of the most powerful cards drawn was the wishing card – and Orcus had some time to kill – so it was time for Bron to get some questions asked as well so wishes granted.

As for questions, a card did come up that would reveal what was the answer to the biggest dilemma – which at this point of time was Myris the polymorphing red dragon that seemed to have lured the group here and was now up top wrecking the town of Broken Hills. Orcus told Bron that the Sundered Chains and Soren and Company had made some nasty habits as of late in the assault and slaying of a couple of juvenile brown dragons that were nesting at Dragonhole as well as the young adult green dragon that was revered as a swamp god by the lizardmen near Eider.

Orcus told Bron then that dragons live forever, never dying – only becoming more and more powerful. A brief history revealed that dragons were the first race created by the gods and they helped to shape and create the world. The dragon’s main helpers were the elves, dwarves, ogres, and humans and after the gods had ascended to the heavens the dragons sort of stayed in power. It was when the elves who had had enough had then launched a massive assault on the dragons, killing many of the elder ones that the balance of power shifted and the age of dragons went into decline and the rise of the humanoid races was able to take place.

Myris was a warden – his job was to make sure that dragonkind in this area were not assaulted and kept in good health. It was when he discovered that two dead browns that he began to investigate. He learned of the Sundered Chains and their efforts in Dragonhole and decided to find out where the group had gone. It was when he then learned of the change to Soren and Company and the death of the green that he had to put his plans in place.

He was going to lure the group here and make it their mission to eventually get lost in Murderer’s hole. Once here there was no way out with flight and he was going to then exact a personal revenge against the group by assaulting their homes and loved ones. However, Orcus did chuckle, the presence of the book and Bron’s reading of it, the attacks against the mighty red dragon, and the giant and undead horde have sort of confused and side tracked Myris and now according to the undead lord, the dragon was only going to further vent his frustrations here and then most likely leave – leaving the party also to their fates and forgetting about them unless they make the mistake of slaying another dragon.

Bron was surprised to learn all this and was also further surprised to find out that the entire Skelt issue was an unrelated matter all together. Orcus then asked Bron for his wishes and the monk wanted to save them. Orcus smiled and said he was busy – let’s have them now.

Bron did ask to have his strange and dark look removed, returning himself to his earlier appearance. He also asked to have his negative effects from the drawing of the deck abated. And finally he wanted the ability to use his monastic abilities more often per day. Orcus did grant all three wishes – but not in a manner that the rest of the group (specifically Norris) was going to find easy to deal with.

At that point the flow of time returned and Orcus along with his damaged spellbook disappeared. Our monk shook his head and then proceeded down the corridor towards the back of the level and took the elevator down to the 4th floor.

Meanwhile the rest of the group was going back to the 4th floor elevator to take it up to the 2nd floor and hopefully see if they can get out since the dragon seemed to be gone when Norris suddenly seemed to scream. His body swelled in size, the half elf topping out at over 6’ in height, his body massing quickly to over 200 lbs. In addition he felt a stirring disconnect for some reason and his motions became sluggish and less sure. The party was amazed at this and then Bron emerged from the hole.

It took all of 2 seconds for the party to notice the sudden similarity in size and body mass between the monk and the bard and the two of them got to words. Bron told the party of what he had seen above. The dragon, the giant, the town being attacked. It seemed the dragon would not be coming back here anytime soon and the group had a singular opportunity to try and save Arnog.

He did not mention his flight, or the reading of the book. Norris felt the monk had done something but there was no proof. The group was a bit torn at this point. It was asked where Bor was and Bron told us that the brave fighter had fallen down the pit along with Hagni. Then Norris asked where the book was and Bron told us that the tome had also fallen down the pit.

We talked about going down there to salvage it but discounted that possibility for now. No one knew it was there so we could always go back and get it after we saved Arnog and then went topside to see what was going on. We followed the 4th level back to the main chasm, blocked now by 3 and a half feet of ice still standing from Norris’ spell. There was talk of using Gwyn’s new firestaff to burn through but Bron had an idea.

Hoping that Orcus had played his fair, he reached deep within himself again, pulled up the ability to use his Touch of Brittleness again and punched the ice wall in an effort to break it. And it worked! However, Norris suddenly yelped in confusion. His even mind and capabilities to use his bardic abilities just grew weaker for some reason. Bron said nothing and the bard once again blamed the monk. The conversation got nowhere.

We went into the chasm and looked at the situation before us. We needed to cross the 20 odd feet as well as drop 60’ to the 5th level. The group pooled our diminishing piles of rope and Soren fired a stonebiter into the opposite wall. Through ropes and spikes we anchored a line across to the opposite side and one by one, the party slithered across the span and down the wall to the landing.

It was perhaps 10’ by 12’ and there was a crudely fitted door blocking the rest of the area. The group looked through and although it was difficult, there were able to deduce there was a corridor perhaps 40’ wide and then a swelling and widening room beyond of which maybe 90’ or so away were three men playing cards – one of the Arnog. Where the mage was, no one knew.

A number of plans were hatched; many of them involving missile fire and the group got themselves together and opened the door. About halfway down the corridor they were detected and the silent mage walked into view, beefy and red haired, he pointed at the party and a bolt of lightning appeared in front of the party and tore its way across the group. We answered with a few arrows and crossbow bolts and were dismayed to see a number of them stop short as if from a shield in front of the mage.

The enemy fighters rose to their feet and drew swords and we fired for bolts and arrows, poison being liberally used at this point. Some of us tried to get into position to ready ourselves to meet the charging enemy when the silent mage then used his next spell – Invisibility 10’ radius. And the 3 fighters and Arnog disappeared.


Soren took a Hail Mary shot at the silent mage’s last position and hit the mage’s shield – with a stonebiter arrow! The arrow then hovered INFRONT of the mage, in the magical shield spell, marking his position. A blast of power rolled from Brother Beren who used his Monster Summoning spell scroll and an Ogre appeared. The ogre was sent after the silent mage.

And then Norris whistled his spell scroll of ice storm and dropped a blasting of pounding hail on the mage who was casting against the group as well as a number of figures running through the ice to assault us. Two of them dropped from the pounding ice chunks. One of them ran forward to intercept the ogre. Ve tried to interfere but the enemy fighter tore the guard to shreds and stormed on past. Bron willed a charm on the enemy fighter and had him switch sides to fight with us.

Our hit points were dropping quickly and we needed to end this struggle as soon as possible. Soren was out of normal arrows and was now using stonebiters. So he loaded up a line on the back of the drilling bolt and fired it at the silent mage. Hitting him. Brother Beren told the ogre to “bring the line back here now!” The same line that was in the mage. This would bring him into Gwyn and Bron’s reach and allow the two fighters to take him down.

However the charmed fighter then did get a final blow in on the silent mage – a blow that brought him down into negative hit points. A blow that triggered the delayed fireball gem he had been given by Myris.

Chunks of fiery viscera tore through the group, killing Bron outright, the monk knocked on his ass. The fire also consumed Brother Beren – BUT – as he felt his skin blister and burn there were the clarion calls of trumpets and a pair of Valkyrie’s came down, swooping the trembling priest away and out of harm’s way. Remembering his draw from Orcus’ deck, he was using his one intervention of fate card! The valkyries then lowered him back down – 52 miles away in the party’s home in Eider fully healed and with all his spells returned for the day.

As for the ogre, he took the brunt of the blast but he did follow Brother Beren’s last order which was to run the line back to where the ogre had last seen him. He arrived – about 10’ from Norris (at Bron’s death the link between him and the monk was gone so he returned to his normal appearance) who was teetering on the high side of 10 hit points, looked around and did not see his summoning master. All he saw were a half elf in bad fitting armor, a dwarf nursing numerous burns. An elven archer bleeding and smoldering, and a platemail wearing fighter also suffering from too many wounds.

In other words – enemies.

The ogre raised his great axe up and roared – charging Norris who was yelling, “No! No!!!” trying to deflect the mighty blow and failing. His chest was smashed opened and the ogre had to shake the bard off the axe where he fell with a wet thud – ticking his way past the negative numbers.

Soren asked the shocked remaining one time enemy fighter if he was going to continue to struggle against them (them being ONLY Soren and Gwyn remaining!) or if he could count on helping. The fighter agreed to help and the elf, dwarf, and human attacked the now charging ogre and together they finished the fight.

A quick check about the room revealed that Bron was dead, Brother Beren was missing, Arnog was dead (killed during the Ice Storm spell), Ve was dead, and Norris was dying. It took a pair of potions to stabilize the bard but he was brought to the positive side of 0.

There was a tense moment when we learned that the fighter was not going to give up Arnog’s sword, nor his armor – saying that Myris had given them to him days ago. It was decided that it wasn’t a matter to be discussed now and that we should just get out of here with what we could. The portal was in the next chamber and the fighter went first, telling us that he would pave the way for the other two guards up there and that we would all get out together.

Meanwhile Brother Beren ran towards his front door in an effort to go to Baronet Wodenlach when he opened the portal to see two men standing there. Zoltan (looking VERY hurt and worn out) and a somewhat clean looking Detheron! Both sides caught each other up with what had been happening and what was going on. Detheron had followed his geas and went to Principia where he was able to find the severed unicorn head. When the horn was returned the unicorn arose once more, fully healed and a blast of raw magic filled the area.

There was also a young girl there, about 12, that Detheron was able to deduce was Vanir’s daughter. He had her handlers dispatched and along with Summerbloom (the unicorn) they left Principia and went the long way back towards Orihalcus – detouring to see Goloriana. The unicorn was proud to have her sister back and they promised to look into things for the druid. In thanks for his efforts they had called forth a powerful stallion named Tornado from the wild and the animal bonded itself to our druid. With a steed now, Detheron went to Orihalcus where he met with Deidra and the Children of the Wilted Leaf. Vanir’s daughter was left there in secret with the orphanage and he confided in Sir Walter Slaine as to what was going on. Sir Walter said that he had heard from Karis who had returned his bondsman ring and was with some unsavory characters.

Detheron then went on his way back the long way to Eider where he came across Zoltan living outside the city in the swamp. The gypsy had escaped after 3 weeks of abuse from what he said was a group of underground shapeshifters. They had imitated him a number of times and tortured information out of him. Then they had been going into Eider for some reason every 3 or 4 days and buying whatever arrows the bowyers and fletchers had on hand. Hundreds and hundreds and even thousands of arrows were coming out of Eider and into the swamp. The druid had healed our gypsy friend and the two of them had gone into Eider, met with the Baronet, and learned that the party’s house was here and they should go there for a night’s rest before going to Broken Hills – the last place the group said they were going off to.

Stories all shared at this point, the three companions were on their way to the Baronet to talk about the dragon, the storm giant, and the undead.

Back to Soren, Gwyn, and Norris, the three companions along with the 3 guards remaining all took some potions of levitation (an extra couple going into our pouches) and then we all floated up and out of Murderer’s Hole. Reunited with Digger the wolverine, we climbed up the side of the cleft and beheld the town of Broken Hills.

The dragon and giant were gone, but the damage was done. Cornblood Keep was writhed in flames and most of the town square was a burning ruin. Falconhand Park was ablaze and there seemed to be a dark aura across the entire north end of town from the cemetery all the way to the stables. To the south the tannery was on fire as well as a dozen or more nearby homes. And everywhere there were screams and shouts and cries in the darkness. Darkness that seemed to move and float and flit about as if alive.

There was a thin ragged line of fleeing refugees running from the city, casting fearful glances behind them as they made their way out of the remains of their homes and town. The three guards wished the party good luck and said they were NOT going into that – instead would make their way to Eider and then eventually northward to Dilabria. Soren, Gwyn, and Norris took one last look and shouldering their packs on tired frames turned their feet along the northeast road – the road out of Broken Hills and towards Eider.