Excerpted from the journal of Etaf
Gerin
April 19, 1376 (The Year of the Bent Blade)
After an eventful night spent
outside Shraevyn’s Tomb, all of us had much to think
about. Brooding silence hovered over our group like a heavy fog as we mounted
our horses and rode out of the valley. Ahmed guided us south and east toward Spiderhaunt, and though the day brightened, our hearts grew
no lighter. All through the day we rode, arriving at the edge of the Spiderhaunt just as dusk fell. Ahmed has called a halt for
the night here, something I heartily support – this forest is something I do
not care to face in the dark of night. I can only hope tomorrow will bring good
fortune as we venture in.
April 20
I begin to wonder if we truly
know what enemies we face. Last night we all had the same dream.
In my dream, I was flying,
gliding effortlessly through the air, born along by a strong wind. My wings
stretched out, covered in black feathers, and beyond my wingtips I could see
other ravens. I knew these were my companions, and we were not in control of
our own destinies. Over a great forest we flew, then down toward a clearing,
occupied by a ruined tower. Circling down, we came closer and closer to the tower.
The windows were black pits, like gaping maws waiting to swallow us. Helplessly
we flew as the wind carried us into the tower…
All of us woke at once,
starting upright and staring at one another. I’ve considered who (or what) is
likely to have the power to affect all of our dreams, and my thoughts are not
comforting. Omiata, Ahmed, and Badaxe
may have had similar thoughts, as all three complained of being unable to sleep
after the dream ended.
After breaking camp, we headed
into the forest. Our horses could barely move two abreast on the path, and the
trees seemed to close in around us. Several times, sudden bird calls or the
sounds of something crashing through the underbrush caused me to jump in my
saddle. After two hours of riding, we were all tensed tighter than bowstrings.
Ahmed and Omiata,
leading the way, entered a clearing and suddenly reined in their mounts. As the
rest of us followed them into the clearing, we could see on the other side a
group of men on foot followed by two robed, mounted men. “Zhentarim
sorcerers and mercenaries!” shouted Ahmed. “Prepare to die, scum!”
Drawing his weapons, he
prepared to spur his horse toward the Zhentarim, but
suddenly we were all halted in our tracks as three leathery-winged flying
creatures sped directly toward us from behind the men. I recognized them as
magical creatures, but was unable identify their species. Identification
mattered little to Badaxe and the enraged ranger,
though. The dwarf swung the mighty Axe of the Dales and cleaved the head of one
creature from its neck, while Ahmed’s scimitars eviscerated one Zhentarim mercenary and disemboweled another.
“Beware the wizards!” shouted
Ahmed as he fought. Past the immediate fighting, I could see that the two robed
men had dismounted and were beginning to cast a spell. Hoping to distract them,
I called forth a creature with my art. Although it injured one of the men, they
still were able to complete their incantations. Twin lightning bolts shot from
their hands – directly at the Axe of the Dales in the hands of Badaxe! The bolts struck the blade of the axe, which for a
split second shone as brightly as the sun. Then lightning shot back from the
axe toward the wizards, knocking them clean off their feet!
Meanwhile, others of our group
were faring less well. Francis swung so wildly at one mercenary that he fell
backwards, knocking down Omiata in the process. One
of the remaining winged creatures stooped over them, preparing to tear the
rogue apart, but Helieos was there. A mighty fist to
the back of the creature’s neck staggered it and a second blow laid it low.
Having finished off the remaining mercenaries and the final creature, Badaxe and Ahmed ran toward the wizards. One of them
regained his feet long enough to fire magic missiles at the dwarf, but the
injury only further enraged the barbarian. A few axe- and sword-strokes later,
and we were victorious.
The fight cleared our minds
and improved all of our moods – even Omiata, who
forgave Francis for his blunder almost before the rogue was up off the ground.
Looting the Zhentarim camp certainly raised spirits
as well – although we found nothing in the way of information to further our
quest. After tending to our wounds, we continued on our way.
An hour further down the
trail, Ahmed stopped us before a bend in the trail. “I hear something” he said
in a low voice. “Omiata, let’s check it out.”
Creeping forward, the two
stealthily peered toward the source of the sounds. The sounds resolved into
snatches of Gnomish as they moved closer, and soon the owner of the voice came
into view. A small figure held a large spider captive, pushing it toward a
cage. Our scouts motioned us forward as the gnome finished herding the spider
into the cage and collapsed in a heap by the door.
“Greetings!” called Francis as
we approached. “We are travelers in this wood, friend gnome, and would
appreciate anything you can tell us about the area.”
“I’m always glad to see new
faces, not nearly enough around here these days. I’m Maeden
the spider hunter, pleased to make your acquaintance.” After introductions were
made, he continued, “My village lies only a small distance ahead. You should
come back with me, and meet Telemas Dreamweaver, our leader.”
Despite some misgivings on the
part of the rogue, who was unhappy at the treatment of the spider, we agreed to
visit the gnome village. Maeden chattered happily as
we walked, mostly about spiders – interesting to a spider hunter, I’m sure,
though it didn’t do much for me. But very shortly, boredom was not our biggest
problem.
Three giant hairy arachnoids
dropped from the trees with no warning, catching us off guard. Helieos, with lightning fast reflexes, pounded one into the
ground before it could attack. The rest of us were not so lucky. A second
spider had dropped next to me, and it bit my arm with long fangs that dripped
venom. Fire ran up my arm as I stumbled back, as my companions recovered from
their surprise and destroyed the creatures. Maeden
also was injured before the last animal was put down.
“Nasty work, these type” said
the gnome. Fumbling in his pack, he pulled out a bottle and took a long pull,
then passed it to me. “Drink some of this, lad, it’ll neutralize that poison.”
I did as he said and soon felt the fire in my arm fade to the dull ache of a
normal wound. By the time we reached the gnome’s village, thirty minutes later,
the pain was gone.
The gnome village was in a
large clearing, surrounded by the forest on all sides. Dozens of huts filled
the clearing, gathered around a central open space. Gnome children played in
the dust while their elders worked. The sight of us caused quite a stir.
Children came at us from all sides, shouting questions at Maeden
about us. One of the braver boys approached Helieos
directly. “How many dragons have you killed?” he said in a high piping voice.
The clamor paused while the other children waited to hear the monk’s response.
The tall half-orc paused for a
moment, then bent down and growled, “Better question – how many gnomes have I
eaten?” The boy eyes went wide and he backed away so quickly he sat down. The
other children shouted laughter as Helieos walked
onward to the center of the village.
Telemas Dreamweaver himself met and
welcomed us, and invited us all to a feast that evening. Meanwhile, we were
welcome to rest or enjoy the hospitality of the village. Francis and I chose to
rest, while the others visited the village store. I awoke late in the afternoon
to the sound of my companions returning, and Ahmed saying, “That Rilia had the hots for you, elf!
Too small for my tastes, but I bet you could have some fun with her.”
“Mind your own business, horse
lover.” Omiate snarled back. “When I want advice
about a mare, I’ll call you. Leave the women to me.”
At that moment, Maeden entered and informed us that dinner was ready. The
promise of food nipped the argument in the bud, and we all followed the gnome
to the largest building in the village. One excellent dinner later, we settled
down to speak with Telemas.
“I have seen disturbing things
in my dreams, friends” he told us. “I founded this village to stem the tide of
evil spiders coming from this forest, when I forsaw a
monstrous spider queen rising from an unchecked swarm of arachnid evil. Of
late, my dreams have changed. Ravens flying in a high wind,
circling the ruined
“We thank you” Francis
replied, “but Lathlander has extended his protection
to us already. These dreams are sent to us to lead us to this evil, that we may
destroy it. But first we have another quest – at Coldstone
Keep, there is an artifact of great evil, and we must retrieve it.”
“I know of this keep – it is
nearby. In recent years the ground has softened, and the keep has sunk into the
swamp. Evil things live there now.” His voice grew grave. “Maeden
can guide you there, but be warned that it will not be a safe venture.”
Telemas’ advice was welcome, but it did not dissuade us. We
took our leave of the gnome chief, and went our separate ways to relax before
our journey continued. Omiata came in just as the
rest of us were preparing to sleep. Ahmed leered knowingly and opened his
mouth, but a quick elbow from Helieos stopped him.
Soon our group was fast asleep, but not for long.
Again all of us were flying as
ravens, toward the tower. The wind carried us helplessly with it. The tower
loomed, huge and evil before us. A voice floated to our ears on the wind,
wordlessly crying in aguish. The voice of a man in agony – could this be Randal
Morn, calling out to us in his torment? Again, just when it seemed we must
crash headlong into the tower, all of us woke together.
No one spoke – we all knew
what each other had seen. We did our best to return to sleep. Tomorrow we would
continue our journey, and this evil would be defeated.
April 21
With Maeden
as a guide, we set out from the gnome village early in the morning. I noticed
that the shopkeeper Rilia was on hand to bid Omiata goodbye – Ahmed’s teasing had been right on target,
it seemed. Onward we rode toward Coldstone Keep,
where we hoped to find the Fiend’s Embrace to rob our enemy of her power. Around
noon we came to a lake – on the other side was the swamp we seek. Maeden guided us to a wayfarer’s cabin, where we rested
briefly before continuing our journey.
Just as we were finishing our
midday meal, we heard coarse laughter from outside the cabin. “Ogres!” Maeden said in a loud whisper. “If we stay quiet, they may
pass us by without trouble.”
That was not to be, however.
We heard the ogre’s voices grow louder and suddenly rise in glee. “They’ve seen
the horses!” cried Ahmed. “They want our mounts – for lunch!”
Quickly the ranger ran
outside, followed closely by Badaxe and Helieos. The ogres, clearly drunk, tossed an empty keg
aside into the lake as they stumbled toward our horses. Catching sight of Badaxe, one brute roared a challenge and ran toward the
dwarf. Helieos swung as the huge form ran by, but
missed so badly that he fell face-first to the ground! Luckily Badaxe was there to keep the ogre’s mind off his fallen
opponent, and Omiata’s crossbow and the dwarf’s axe
finished matters quickly.
Meanwhile, Ahmed positioned
himself between the other ogre and the horses. Using his scimitars to keep the
brute from the horses, he nimbly avoided the clumsy return blows. Francis came
up behind the ogre and finished him with a blow to the back of the skull.
Having protected our mounts,
we decided it would be best to conceal them from any further danger while we
ventured into the swamp. Ahmed and Maeden hid the
horses near the waypoint cabin, and we proceeded around the lake toward the
swamp. As we entered the swamp, the air grew cold and damp – much too cold for
the warm climate around us. Something unnatural affects the weather in that
place.
We crossed a large stone
bridge over a deep, slow-moving river as we approached the keep. At the end of
the bridge, Maeden stopped and bade us farewell. “I
wish you luck, friends, but I myself will not venture any farther into this
place. I will await you at the waypoint cabin for a time – if you return that
way, I will be waiting.”
We thanked the gnome for his
guidance, and watched as he faded into the misty cold. Then we turned toward
our destination. Coldstone Keep had sunk partially
into the swamp, with the front section almost completely underwater. The only
visible entrance was an almost completely submerged gatehouse. Beyond that, a
courtyard with two towers was partially flooded, leading up to the main part of
the keep, which was mostly above the waterline.
Using the magical
water-breathing ability of the Axe of the Dales, Badaxe
walked through the gatehouse and into the courtyard, trailing a rope to help
the rest of us across. As he crossed, he noticed the portcullis was twisted and
torn – almost like a huge beast had ripped it apart. Once inside, though, he
saw nothing amiss, and the rest of us waded and swam through into the
courtyard.
Omiata began to move toward one of the towers, then suddenly
froze. Motioning us to silence, he moved carefully to peer inside. A long
moment passed while he surveyed the scene, then he began to move back to our
group. Suddenly, out of the water behind him, a huge monstrous head surfaced!
Quickly, our group ran for the driest ground in the courtyard, then turned to
fight.
Striding forward out of the
water was a huge trollish figure, a Sea Hag of
gigantic proportions! Moving quickly, much faster than any normal creature of
that size, she struck Ahmed down with her claws and turned to face Helieos and Badaxe. Francis
quickly ran to the ranger’s aid, while Omiata and I
stood back and sent bolts and magical attacks to strike the monster – but we
had little effect.
“Fear the might that Lathlander grants me, evil beast!” shouted the monk as he
attacked. “My two fists, Shock and Awe!” So saying, he landed a mighty flurry
of blows that staggered the Hag. Before she could recover, Badaxe
swung the Axe of the Dales, driving the blade keep into her chest. Still the
monster refused to fall, and it looked as though our best blows might not be
enough. But just as the Hag began to rise again, Ahmed, made whole again by the
cleric’s healing power, swung his scimitars into her face. The flame of his
magic blade cut deep and she fell to lie still on the ground.
Quickly Ahmed dismembered the
body and scattered the fragments. “Regeneration can bring these things back from
almost any wound” he explained as he worked. “But only if there is enough of
the beast in one place to function.” Meanwhile Badaxe
used the Axe of the Dales to explore the Hag’s underwater cave. He returned to
report finding nothing but stairs leading upward.
After a brief rest to catch
our breath, Omiata waded across the flooded tower
floor and scouted the stairway. At the top, he found a room full of plants. A
sickly-sweet smell came from open flowers spread around the room. Ahmed
followed the elf up the stairs, took one look inside, and turned back, pulling Omiata behind him as he made his way back to the courtyard.
“That’s a man-eating plant in
there” he said, scowling. “Get too close and it’ll stun you with the smell of
those flowers, then eat you alive. We should stay away from that room unless we
have no other choice.”
Since we had plenty of other
places to explore, we agreed. Turning our back on that tower, we explored the
other, but found only an empty room. Omiata searched
an old stable in the corner of the courtyard, turning up nothing more than a
particularly nasty horse dropping. He also explored another small, broken-down
room near the wall – the smell quickly identified it as a guarderobe,
and the elf barely avoided falling into one of the shafts.
Having thoroughly explored the
courtyard, and narrowly avoided disaster of several kinds, we entered the keep
proper. The light was dim, but enough filtered in through holes in the walls
that we could see a puddle of green slime covering most of the floor. The room
was empty save the slime and piles of rubble from the broken walls. Omiata moved through the room, intent on the corridor
beyond – and placed his foot too near the slime puddle. With an oath, he leapt
backwards; at the same time Helieos, also walking too
near the slime, did the same at the rear of the group.
“Green death” announced Badaxe, bending near the puddle and examining it warily.
“Bad in caves, bad anywhere.” Thus warned, we avoided the slime and left the
room, entering a nearly intact corridor.
The ranger and rogue scouted
out several empty rooms before finding one containing the skeleton of a man. We
all entered the room, seeing four large dog skeletons lying around the human
bones, as if guarding their master. Omiata approached
to search the remains, but as he came close, the dog skeletons stood and lunged
for him!
Quickly the rogue backed away,
suffering only minor injuries as Helieos and Badaxe moved forward to the attack. Behind them, Francis
prayed to Lathlander to smite the evil creatures –
but this time, nothing happened. Fortunately Lathlander
was still with the monk, whose fists struck down two of the skeletal canines. Badaxe finished the others with a few swipes of his axe.
The dead man had been carrying
some magical equipment, and a note. The note was written in Draconic, and said:
Blaskin - this Wand of Charms may aid you in
your mission. Good luck!
Enimeb-D'neirf.
Tired and wounded from our
earlier fights, we decided to rest in this room for the night – the walls were
sound enough to make it a good defensive position. In the morning we would
continue our search for the Fiend’s Embrace.
Some random out-of-character comments:
Absolutely great DM work by
Dave between sessions, giving three of us separate dreams/visitations during
our rest at the tomb. I thought I was being singled out until Mike E. started
in on his story. J Mike J. had some inspired one-liners – the cracks about eating gnome
children and “Shock and Awe” are both verbatim quotes, which I typically don’t
do in these write-ups. (Although I did add the Lathlander
bit – gotta give some
credit to the deity.) Being the only L3 didn’t help our cleric much, as Mike R.
managed to fumble twice and completely fail to turn some undead. I guess the
dice rolls had to catch up to him sometime. Chop led us unerringly as always
with his ranger skills: “We can’t take the horses in….oh wait, we can ride
single file on the path… no, we can ride two abreast… I knew that all along,
yeah.” Demetrius played the dwarf to perfection, beating up everything in sight
with his mighty axe, although I’m not sure that his idea of become a dwarf
barbarian-bard would work out so well. Mike E. seemed to have an unhealthy
attraction to spiders early on, but balanced that out with a healthy attraction
to gnome women later. And the DM is
letting us level up even though we’re in an abandoned keep, so time to go work on
the character sheet….
Last updated 05-11-2005 by Skip Franklin