The heroes of Stormhaven gather their belongings, and arrange for horses, and meet up on the way of Northgate, travelling casually with the throngs of people heading out through the Foundry, on their way to local towns or farms.  Some are beaming with near empty carts and fat coffers, but most have had a disappointing day at the markets.  A mass demon invasion of the city isn't good for business.  Some will clearly not even head home this evening.

Once clear of the city and as people drift further apart, Inas leads the party along the Northern road that mirrors the main river that runs down past Stormhaven, its beginnings far to the North.   After about an hour though, he veers off the main road onto a much smaller and less travelled path that leads more North-east.  For several hours, travel is slow but easy, through mostly flat lands of fields, light rolling hills, but in the distance, you can see a treeline.  It is there that Inas means to camp the first night.   You arrive at its edges just as the sun begins to sink below the horizon.  It is a good place to camp and the night looks like it will be clear and cool beneath the stars.

Marissa looks around, studying the forest and its surrounds. Almost wistfully, she looks back, muttering to herself all the while. At last, she asks, "Shall we set our watches, gentlemen?"

Rath had said his goodbyes to Rose quietly and privately, without letting on that he'd be leaving for awhile. She'd be worried, but better worried than at risk because she knew too much. "Look, if there's trouble and I'm not around ... you head straight for Godswalk Park, Rose. If that little fellow comes around again, or if there are demons ... go to the park. Find a guy called Eagle. I told you about him, I think. You tell him I sent you, and he'll keep you safe." If anyone in Stormhaven can.

---

Rath was edgy, leaving the city, but once out of the crowds and off the main road, he seemed to relax. It was an odd pleasure to be out of doors, without rains and winds to make him miserable, though he was suspicious of every bird in every bush. Rath kept his weapons near.

At camp, Rath went away for a few moments to relieve himself, then came back to unfurl his bedding and call up a feast fit for heroes and their horses. [OOC: cast create food and water.]

"So, Eoinsson. Tell us about this place we're going. You've been there, right?"

Inas nods.  "Many times.  Sevan Falls Canyon.  Remote; isolated; not well traveled.  Which is a good thing; preserves the beauty.  The falls are formed by one of the rivers that flows south from the Northern Hinterlands.  Seven Falls Canyon is actually located in the Northern Hinterlands, so we have a ways to go."

Saliq had relayed modest farewell at the Guild before setting out. The illusionist had spent much of his time since buried nose deep in his books and scrolls, researching his magics. Sitting down by the fire he begins carefully unrolling his bedroll.

"I detest waking up in the middle of the night so I'll take first watch." The illusionist glances around thoughtfully, a faint smile at his lips. "I must say on balance I prefer my forests out of doors rather than subterranean."

Folke left the inn shortly after Marissa had reappeared, to make sure he gave a proper farewell to his patron, the Madame Averi Martuch.  He also collected the more practical pieces of his adventuring gear and stowed them in his weathered pack, along with as many fresh foodstuffs as he could add.  Snacks on the road were always a welcome treat, especially in poor weather.  Thinking he was ready to depart, he turned and found Averi waiting for him with a particular look in her eye.  And as it turned out, he was a little late departing...

The road made Folke happy despite the temporary loss of his cushy lodgings.  They were headed north to the Hinterlands, his homeland.  And anytime he headed back that way the feeling of pleasant nostalgia overcame him.  He was looking forward to seeing the familiar stark hillsides and rocky outcroppings that he called home.

At the campsite the skald pitched in like normal, and was overjoyed at the spread Rath conjured.  "Well done!  You are getting quite good at this.  Wait, is that roast chicken?"  As they ate he listened to Inas describe the place they were headed, and nodded along to the description.

"I haven't been there myself, but it is mentioned in a number of poems and sagas from the North.  I especially like Anders and the Fell Bear, although it isn't really suitable for young children.  The ending is rather...detailed."
This message was last edited by the player at 22:11, Tue 10 Apr 2018.

"Whereas I love a broken night's sleep. I'll take the midnight watch."

To Folke, Rath said, "I don't see no kids here." That might have been an invitation to sing.

Watch is set and the party settles in to an excellent meal provided by Rath.  It is still early Spring so the night gets quite cold but it feels good since its the first night and the sky is clear of clouds, stars light the night.  Far from the city light and noise, the sky is bright and cheerful.

As everyone settles in and most drift off to sleep, Saliq takes up first watch.  He has such a quiet and lovely evening, he almost lets Rath sleep late, but just as he decides to wake the next watch, he sees something fly by overhead, far overhead, he cannot see it but can tell by the black shadow that blots out a patch of stars.  For a moment, he wonders if he imagined it.  Then, he hears the snap of a branch not far away.  Together, they bode poorly.

"AWAKE!" Saliq cries out. "We are not alone!"

At Saliq's warning, the enemy moves in for the kill.  Sadly, it takes the party only the few seconds for them to awake and ready themselves, that a hundred little clues flow to them from their vast experiences.

The enemy is whooping and hollering, bits of orcish, gnolls, perhaps even bugbear can be heard.  They have started their charge far too far away, having obviously not been stealthy enough to get close before making a mistake.  It will be rounds before they arrive at the campsite.  And, they are all coming from one direction, in a big clump. It is pitifully thought out attack.

When they come within sight, its a hodge-podge of scruffy humanoids, poorly armored, poorly weaponed, but there are 20 or 30 of them so they think they have the numbers.

ooc: you can have two rounds of attacks, hits vs. ac 7 hit.

Rath roused himself grimly, and when he saw what they faced, his expression soured. Hefting his trident, he asked the others, "Parley? Or slaughter?"

Inas reaches for his bow and begins to reach for an arrow.  But, he stops, arches an eyebrow, and casts a spell.

Inas' spell quickly and effectively stops the charging mass of robbers.  Vines, tree roots, grasses, snake up across a wide swath of forest floor and entangle those charging towards the campsite, to the sounds of surprise, growling, cursing, and more than a few whimpers.

Inas chuckles.  A disturbing, if uncommon sound.  He then pulls out his owl figurine and sends it skyward.

"We'd best see if there's someone comin' behind this lot; someone in charge of the rabble."

The owl speeds off, flying fast and quiet through the forest, using its excellent night vision to survey the area around the struggling mass of bandits.

Sure enough, about 300 yards into the forest, it finds a rough, ugly, run down campsite.  Large and dirty, and makeshift.  There is one fat ogre lounging in the center inside a white tent (the nicest of the makeshift quarters).  Inas sees several of the tents that are made of old flags, at least a few of which bear the symbol of the Claw and Fang.  This must remnants of the defeated army.

Marissa wakes and grabs her spear, though, like the others, she waits for the full scouting report before attacking. She is impressed with Inas' spell.

"I wonder if that's something I can learn," she says.

Having leapt up with the others and quickly strung his bow, Folke now paused and stared in admiration at the ensnared humanoids.  While talk turned to others, Folke tilted his head to the side slightly and asked, "Uh, Inas.  How long does you spell last?  They don't look like much, but there is a lot of them."

"It'll last five or six days, mebbe a week," Inas says very loudly, as he walks closer to the entangled throng.  When he passes Folke he whispers:

"Ten minutes."

The ranger walks a little closer to the sorry lot of cretins.

"Who's gonna earn their freedom by tellin' me who that ogre in your camp is, an' why you're here?"
This message was last edited by the player at 21:45, Fri 13 Apr 2018.

One of the orcs in the middle says, "I will".  The larger orc next to him, though he can't move far, smashes him with a club, splitting his skull.  Most are quiet after that except for a smallish orc who is caught near the edge of the spell, out of reach from any others, who waves frantically to get your attention without saying anything.

"Alright then," Inas announces as he walks to the orc off to one side.  "This one's near the edge; let's start with him."  He grabs the orc, yanks him from the entanglement, and half carries, half drags him closer to the camp.  As he re-passes his companions, he whispers (in elvish): "We best not burn them; the smell would be terrible."

Marissa points off to the side, indicating the lone loose orc should circle around and stay out of the reach of the leader. She also takes a close look at the entrapped combatants to ensure none of them have bows, crossbows, spears or other missile weapons. To the orc brute who smashed his fellow, she offers a small smirk.

"You're dead," she shouts to him.

Rath casually finished strapping on his armor and looked over the assemblage. He pulled on his gauntlets, grabbed his trident, and, unhurried, stepped in front of his companions. "Get what you need from that one," Rath barked to Inas. "You can kill the big one," he said to Marissa. "I know you like that sort of thing." Then he raised his voice, addressing the motley gang. "These #*&#$ blokes don't know who I am." Rath snarled. "Yet."

He raised Devilsbane to the sky and roared. "I am your $%#$% general! I am Rath!" (He used an orcish curse he'd picked up from a half-orc a few years back. It was indeed vile.) "I skewered Tethi and left him dead. You worthless dregs are mine, if I decide I want you." He snorted derisively. "Claw and Fang, indeed. You have one chance, to regain glory. To be feared. To rise to the slaughter. Bend knee to me! Or die as the wretched mob you've become!"

He glared, with a challenging stare.
This message was lightly edited by the player at 03:19, Sat 14 Apr 2018.

The vines recede as Inas moves over and grabs the smallish orc and drags it away. As he does, it turns and flips off the rest of mob caught in the spell.

The larger orc threatened by Marissa just struggles a moment, is still stuck, but sticks out its tongue at her.

After Rath speaks, a few of the mass glace around, then get very still, they can't kneel due to the spell, but all of them have their eyes on Rath now.

"Oh, I like that," Marissa said, impressed by Rath's play. "I think I'll cut the big one's tongue out and wear it on a necklace."

Rath turned his attention to Inas and his prisoner. He wanted to hear about the ogre who led this band.

Folke didn't know Rath's background from before the island, but he did know orcish and the tenor of his companion's challenge.  The skald began chanting harshly in the background an orcish war song, pounding the butt of his spear on the ground in rhythm, intending to lend support and credence to his friend and supposed commander of this rabble.  Hopefully the fools would fall for it, because Inas was right.  It would smell horribly.

When the group gathered around the snitch Folke joined them, interested to hear what exactly they had run across.


OOC:

Use bardic ability to influence listeners.  Will use orcish war song to support Rath's claim that he is their leader.  Who knew speaking orcish would have a purpose?  :)

Saliq watched all this carry on in fascination unwilling to interrupt the marvelous display of theatrics taking place. Rath seemed to have business in hand, why spoil his fun with unwonted magic?

Inas gets the "squealer orc" to the parties' camp -- the point furthest from the entangled army.  "Alrighty, then -- spill it.  Or I'll plant you back in the brush, right in front of your big club-happy friend."

The little orc looks wide eyed,

"Big bad, bone-breaker, come here. Mean, angry, lost big war, take it out on us, we just nice forest orcs, live off land, peace like, they mean, want to raise army, want to kill good humans....ok....set me free now?".

Marissa nears the edge of the entangled area, bares her teeth and offers a one-fingered salute to the big fella with the club.

Without taking his eyes of the squealer orc, Rath asked Inas: "Peaceful forest orc? You ever hear of such a thing, Eoinsson?" It sounded like a ridiculous lie.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:42, Tue 17 Apr 2018.

The little orc gives Rath a funny look when he takes, but looks back to Inas, "Free now, yes? Told truth, deals deal.  Kill the rest, they always mean to me.  Set free and never see me again, truth again".

The large humanoid offers Marissa a few rude and suggestive motions of his own, as if to say what she has in store once he's free of these darn weeds!!

"We may have to kill at least some of them, to bring the others in line," Folke remarked to their war-leader, Rath.  "The one snarling at Marissa does not seem like he will bend to your will, for example."

Inas says in elvish: "Kill the big one."

To his captive, he says (in common): "You may have told us no lies, but you haven't told us all of the truth.  When did this ogre arrive?  Was he alone?  You outnumber him; why abandon you 'peaceful ways?'"

Inas' does not hide his sarcasm when referring to the goblin's peacefulness.

In reply to Inas Eoinsson (msg # 35):

The orc looks around as if desperate to run away,

"Only ten of us living peaceful like, most of them dead now, Ogre come with many soldiers, you see now, we tried to, get along, one wrong word and they kill us."

He appears increasingly jumpy, even for a squeeky orc.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:49, Fri 20 Apr 2018.

Rath nodded to Folke. It was likely that some would need to die. He put a gauntleted hand on the little orc's shoulder, less than gently. "The ogre. Does he fly? Turn invisible?" His voice was rough and demanding. "Easy question. Yes or no?"

The orc looks wide eyed at Rath, nods, "and worse, much worse.."

Inas closes his eyes a moment, and sways a bit where he stands.  After a second or two his eyes open and he briskly states and demands of the goblin: "Something big's coming, from the sky.  What is it?"

The orc throws itself on the ground, "death, its death".

Rath looked up.

A few seconds later a black figure swoops overhead, sending the entangled humanoids into a frenzy, clawing and screaming as they try to flee.   Everyone gets a good look at the creature for just a second as it races past.  A totally black two headed dragon or wyvern is your best guess, not huge but at least 20 feet long. It quickly vanishes into the night sky.

Outwardly, Rath smirked. It was bluster, of course. It wouldn't do to let the rabble see their general unnerved. "It's only got two heads, orc. Nothing to be afraid of." Rath reached down to pull the little orc to its feet, then carried and shoved it back into Inas' tangle of writhing vegetation.

"The ogre was your leader," he snarled at the orc. "And you betrayed him. Serve me better, or you'll get worse."

Rath waved to his companions, to gather out of earshot. "Okay," he said quietly. "Now what?"

Inas seems to be concentrating on something far away.

"Lemme check," he mutters in a whisper.

"That was interesting," Marissa said. "Illusion, or was that real?"

She looks to Master Saliq as she asks the latter. "One can never be certain around you mystical folk."

Inas opens his eyes. "Not real -- and I doubt the ogre is responsible."

He turns back to the "cooperative" goblin.  "OK -- who else is with the ogre?

The orcs frowns, "Not real?  Ogre only, bad ogre, uses big magiks, can create fire, lightning, fly, very powerful".

Something the goblin says resonates in Inas's mind.  He arches an eyebrow.  "We gottta act, now, before he can prepare.  He's 300 yards or so that way." Inas gestures toward the camp discovered by the owl.  "It's not your standard ogre.  It is, as the goblin says, a spell-castin' ogre -- very smart, and very powerful.  At least, as compared to most ogres."

Folke sighed in relief despite the seriousnessof the situation.  He'd never heard of any such creature as the one that had just flown overhead, and surely something of that fantastic nature would have been recorded somewhere before.  To hear it was an illusion eased his mind, despite the fact they'd be heading into the teeth of whatever this spell-casting ogre could generate.

"Saliq, do you know any spells that protect against your style of magic?  So we wouldn't be fooled by more of the ogre's illusions?"

"I can't do much about lightning," Rath muttered, but he threw down wards on both Saliq and Folke, the most fragile of the group, to protect against fire.

[OOC: casting resist fire twice. +3 saving throws, 1/2 damage for 50 minutes.]

It takes only about 5 minutes to move cautiously around the entangled mass of humanoids and over to the campsite some 300 yards deeper in the woods.   Its a fairly small and disheveled campsite, makeshift tents and huts, the only decent structure is in the center, a fair nice white tent.   After just a bit of assessing, it becomes clear, the camp is abandoned.  A quick search finds the Ogre Mage has flown the coop.  His nicer tent contains little of value but there is a rough drawing of a human hanging from a post.  It looks like someone has used it for knife practice.  It looks a lot like a drawing of Rath.

During your search of the camp, there comes the sounds of clashing weapons, screams, and grunts.  The entangle spell has released and the humanoids have turned on each other.

Marissa grinned at the distant noise, though she said, "I would have had fun baiting the big fellow. Hopefully one of the smaller ones does him with a knife in the back."

Inas looks disappointed.

"Too bad; we could've taken him if he were alone.  Now he's still out there . . . somewhere . . . "

Inas knows the ogre mage could have literally "flown," and that an army marched through this area -- but he still feels obliged to look for tracks.

Hearing the ruckus, Rath flinched and muttered, "There goes another army." He scratched his neck and gave the drawing a quick second glance. "My hair doesn't really look like that. Does it?"

While Inas looked for tracks, Rath stayed vigilant, trident in hand, circling the campsite and keeping his eyes on the skies. "Spread out a bit," he advised the others. "In case our friend decides to blast me with lightning."

Marissa grinned at Rath's warning. "I think it's your charm that invites all these enemies of yours," she said. "Or lack thereof. You really should work on that."

"I'm not sure he's gone far, regardless of Rath's variable charms." Saliq states quietly. He glances suspiciously around and begins reciting the words of a spell.

---

OOC: Saliq casts Detect Invisibility.

"I am trying, I really am.  But it just doesn't seem to rubbing off on him," sighed Folke, shaking his head in mock disappointment.  He was joining in of the jest at Rath's expense, though in a good natured way.  Though he made sure to be somewhat shielded by Marissa nonetheless.

As the others sought to confirm the ogre's departure Folke yawned. He hoped they would reach a positive conclusion so that a restful night's sleep was still a possibility.

Saliq casts his spell but finds no trace of invisible enemies.  Others, pick through the camp, finding ample evidence this was at least partially a remnant of the army they defeated at the astronomers tower. It was a descent, if somewhat distorted painting of Rath.  Certainly not flattering.

Inas moves out, following a maze of tracks.  They had been here awhile, and they had hunted, he finds piles of dead animals mingled with some bones of humanoids.  But he quickly deciphers a path that is more recent, and more often traversed.

He follows it for a few hundred yards before he first smells a whiff of sulfur. Another 50 yards beyond, he stops, and wonders what the hell he is looking at.

Inas stands at the edge of a clearing of woods, cut into the ground, it is nearly a hundred feet across, and has a pentagram, within a pentagram, within a pentagram, burned into the soil.  At the tip of each starpoint, is a dead creature, from where he stands, they look fey, centaurs, sylphs, dryads, elves.  The center is a blackened pit.

Inas is more than surprised.  He's shocked.

He swallows, collects his wits; then: "Saliq!"

Rath took off at a run towards Inas’s voice.

It doesn't take long before everyone is standing, staring at what Inas has found.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:20, Wed 25 Apr 2018.

Saliq stares at the pentagram silently for a long moment. "Well, it is a few days old. That's the best news I have if we can even consider that good news. Something potent came through." He strokes his trim beard thoughtfully.

"Ogre mages are reputed to be clever and powerful but this is very potent magic for just one."

Rath had no quips and he didn't state the obvious. This was bad. He stood, grim and grimacing, for long moments, before turning his attention to the periphery of the clearing. "We should check the whole area. Maybe the thing that came through this ... this gate flew out of here, but maybe it left tracks."

Folke was dismayed at the sight and could almost feel the evil emanating from the pentagrams, pushing against his very skin.  He dreaded the thought of what might have come through such a powerful summoning circle.

"Do you think this is where the vrock came from as well?" he asked Saliq, as the illusionist seemed the most knowledgeable of what they were viewing.

Inas overcomes his shock and begins looking for tracks.

A quick search of the area reveals nothing else,  whatever came
Through is gone and must have flown.

Rath gestured toward the blackened pit at the center of the clearing. “”That thing still open?’” He tried to answer his own question, using a minor divination.

OOC: cast detect magic.

Marissa circles the clearing behind Inas' tracks - she has no desire to erase any clues with her own bumbling.

Pausing, she calls out to Rath, "What did you find?" She's speaking to the detect magic she knows he cast.

Folke remained near the summoning circle, looking at the design in case there were any telltale identifiers in the markings on its perimeter.  He paused when Rath cast his spell, and looked at the warrior in anticipation of his answer to Marissa's question.

Rath's spell reveals that whatever magic was used here, it is no longer active.  No other
Tracks of interest are found.  Despite the portents there is little left to do here.

"It's dead," Rath announce, indicating the blackened pit. "Speaking of which, we should get back to the horses before the orcs eat them."

Rath's comment alarms Inas, and he trots back to the camp.

He has bow out, so that he can attack from a distance (and therefore sooner) if need be.

Folke kept pace behind Inas, not eager to walk all the way to the Northlands.  Like the ranger, he had his bow in hand and kept a watchful eye on the way back to the horses.

The group returns to find almost all the humanoids already dead.  Clearly whatever uneasy truce was going on between them was shattered today.  A head count reveals only a few survived and they left the field of battle in opposite directions.  The largest orc that was taunting Marissa has a spear in his back.

Nothing else can be gleaned about the whereabouts of the Ogre Magi, or whatever he summoned.  Perhaps it was indeed a large number of Vrock, he certainly has a grudge against Stormhaven, so the target of them would make sense.  But it could be something else entirely, either way, not a comforting thought as the party returns to camp.

Despite the events of the past hour, sleep is needed, the watch is resumed and remains peaceful into the morning.

Rath resumed his watch and, when the time came, fell into a light sleep quite easily, despite the circumstances ... a talent learned the hard way, taking rest when opportunities arose in times of adversity. He dreamed of a flitting figure in white and of ethereal bells. He woke up stiff and sore from a night on the ground. He tried to remember Rose's face. Maybe he managed to do it. Maybe he was getting old.

He sat in the morning sun, letting it warm his face, wondering if Pelor was indeed looking down on him, or if some other gods -- or worse -- were channeling their power through Rath. He fingered his pendants -- the sun of Pelor, the coin of Avandra, the shell of Melora. He did whatever he did that passed for prayer, felt his magic powers strong again.

Rath wore a bitter grimace and was ready to start again, as soon as the others were.

"Don't look so happy, old man," Marissa said to Rath with her own unhappy grimace. She spent a minute upright and stretching her back before adding, "A night spent sleeping in the dirt is supposed to be good for you."

Folke looked up from where he was tending the small cookfire he'd started.  He smiled at the byplay between Rath and Marissa and then thought of their journey still ahead.  As disturbing as the signed were here, they were bound for the North.  Home was calling, and the skald was eager to tread upon familiar ground again.

"Yeah," Rath agreed. He got to his feet with exaggerated difficulty, using his trident as a staff. "That's what my mama told me when she kicked me out of the house." He moved over to join Folke at the fire.

"I get the feeling we can't take anything for granted. That ogre has a grudge, and we don't know what monsters came through that gate. Let's assume we got a wyrm-slayer on our tail. So, we move fast and play it safe."

Rath peered up at the sky. "Nobody wander off alone, and if you see something weird, say something."
This message was last edited by the player at 04:04, Mon 07 May 2018.

Not surprisingly, Inas is unfazed by the sleeping conditions.  As the party prepares to decamp, he sends his owl into the sky to scout.

Folke nodded at Rath's wisdom. "With any luck all we will have to worry about is the Sigurdsdottir. She will be enough."

The skald was his usual efficient self around the campsite and was ready to head off as soon as the others.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:52, Tue 08 May 2018.

"I think the Sigurdsdottir is a potential ally, at least as far as your rival, goes, Rath," Marissa replied thoughtfully. "Regardless, we should not assume the worst there. Her goals are reprehensible, but that comes I think from limited understanding of cultural differences. On the other hand, if she is capable of reason, she could wind up being the difference between victory and defeat."

"It's just a thought. Besides, she is kind of cute."

There's an amused twinkle in her eyes at the myriad emotions that play out on her companions' faces.

Saliq, who had been looking at the sky himself as waited the owls return glanced at Marissa and raised an eyebrow. "I've seen - and been - cuter. In any case for the moment we must consider her a potential threat."

“He has,” Rath emphatically confirmed Saliq’s claim. “He really, really has.”

Marissa laughed aloud at Saliq's understated claim.

"I have no doubt, Master Mesmer," she said, shaking her head in glee.

The group of heroes spends most of the next week taking back deer and animal trails, roughly following the direction of the river, far enough away not to be noticed by any main trails, but occasionally glimpsing the water in the distance.  Slowly the flatter ground gives ways to small hills, and then begins to rise on and off.  Inas seems to know the way and rarely needs to even stop to consult the heavens or the trails.

It with little surprise that eventually the sound of roaring waterfalls can be heard the distance, and great rock walls and cascading falls come into view.

"It's lovely, Inas!" she shouts in their guide's ear.

Rath grunted. He was a little on edge, not knowing what they'd find. Or how they'd find it. "What now?"

Inas scans the horizon and squints at the waterfall, as if evaluating where to begin searching.

"I don't know," Saliq admitted, "but I'd sooner wait until we get a proper lay of the land."

"There is a system of caves behind the largest waterfall.  I've not been in there, but I've been practically everywhere else.  Of course, I wasn't looking for any egg before.  Anyhow, the caves are slippery, but manageable."


Inas pauses a moment.

"I could also try asking some of the local animal residents if they know anything, but that might be a hit or miss proposition."

Saliq nodded slowly. "There is so little I know about dragons... but would even the good ones frighten a lot of wildlife away through their scent and aura?"

"If there is only an unhatched egg with no guardian, then I wouldn't think so," Folke pointed out to Saliq.  "But if we're actually expecting a live dragon, I agree the normal animals around here are probably scarcer than normal."

To Inas he said, "Is there any reason not to try your animal-speech?  If they tell you nothing, we are no worse off than now.  But maybe we learn something that makes finding the egg easier."

"Yeah, I could do that too," Rath smirked a little. "Talk to animals, I mean. But you'd probably know better what to ask the little varmints." He scanned the scene, apparently less impressed by natural beauty than Ehridol was. "Inas, you ain't said much. What is this place? What was here when you were here last?"

Inas has camped a few times above the falls of the canyon but never been down inside or explored it much.  It is known as a beautiful and fairly safe place (off road) to camp for the night.   There are not any bad rumors about it, but having mentioned it, there does not seem to be much wildlife around at the present, which is a bit odd.

Can't talk to animals if there aren't any.  But it's strange that there aren't any.  That" in itself probably tells us something."

Despite the apparently safe and almost idyllic surroundings, Rath didn't look happy. "Let's get on with it, then. Eoinsson ... pick us out a rendezvous point, something with a landmark, in case we get separated. Then take us to the cave."

Although he has never been there himself, the caves behind the Great Papa Falls are known to exist.  Inas leads the group to the edge of canyon, to a spot with scrub brush, and a sudden very steep cliff drop to ones death.  The open air before you almost sucks the breath from you, the view of the two mirrored caverns from here though is amazing.  Truly seven falls pour down from the heights into pools before joining and heading south towards Stormhaven as single river.  Their mists fills parts of the canyon, the noise echoes amongst the trees.  Inas steps off the cliff and for a second, you think he will fall, but he continues to move forward and downward.  There is a narrow, narrow trail along the rock wall that winds down towards the middle of the Papa of Falls.  It is narrow, and becomes wet and slick the closer you come, but it is passable, and soon, you stand at the edge of and just behind the roaring mass of water.   Beyond it is mostly dark, but a large cave entrance is just visible deep behind the waterfall.

ooc: I need a single file marching order from this point on,  I need each of you to roll the following, you don't need to post the results, it is something I may need later,  1d6, 1d6, 1d20,  1d6, 1d2, thx

Rath caught his breath. "I didn't like that," he said, referring to the perilous trek along the narrow, wet pathway. But he spoke quietly and the noise of the falls obscured his words.

Taking his trident in hand, Rath waved Inas forward and waited for the others to follow before  bringing up the rear.

The party moves deeper behind the roaring fall finding that though the path here is more wet and more smooth, it is also quite a bit wider so feels far safer.

The cave entrance is quite wide and dark, as you enter, one of the coins of light is needed to see your way.   You enter a large natural cavern, with a central column rising to the ceiling high above.  There are three passage leading off, one to the north, and two north east.  The air is cold and damp, and smells slightly sour.



This message was last edited by the GM at 18:04, Mon 21 May 2018.

As is his custom, Inas looks for tracks or other signs of habitation.

Rath let Inas work, and he held up his illuminating coin to assist in the endeavor. He eyed the shadows warily. Danger, he knew, could come from any direction.

The floor is wet and stone, but there is some moss and mud, so Inas can tell something has been coming and going, certainly human or humanoid, and something large, if he had to guess, and he isn't a fan of guessing, he'd say a dragon, or similar, and no baby, but a large one.

"This looks promising, if that's the right word.  Given the size of the creature that's made these tracks, I'd wager it'd prefer the largest and easiest tunnel to traverse."

He tries to determine if one of the three tunnels appears to have the tell-tale signs of ingress and egress.  Barring that, he gestures at whichever appears to be the larger of the three tunnels.

At Inas words, Marissa perked up.

"What kind of large creature, Inas," she asked. "Your best guess, of course."

"Something draconic -- or similar.  But that's just a guess."

The middle passage is the smallest, the northern one just slightly smaller than the one to the right, so Inas moves to the right.

The passage itself is short and opens quickly into another large chamber.  Several things are apparent here, the smaller passage also feeds into this chamber.  There is a large pit further away that has a waterfall flowing down from above, gathering a pool at the edge before continuing to plummet into the depths of the pit.

From where you stand, there doesn't not appear to be other entries or exits.

Rath crinkled his nose at the sour scent. After scoping out the place, he approached the pit and peered into it, shining the light from his coin down into the depths. If there were depths.

OOC: Nice maps. GM Bard, did you draw them?

The logic seemed sound so Folke followed along without complaint, but clearly on edge.  The last time he'd gone dragon hunting it hadn't worked out very well for him.  And that was when it was a simple killing task.  Here they wanted to try and save the dragon!  He shook his head at his own folly.  How the people back home would laugh.

Not wanting to split up, the skald stuck close to the others and followed to the indoor waterfall.  Though he kept a sharp eye out for any surprises, he couldn't help but marvel at the natural beauty of the place.  It was inspiring, so long as it stayed this uninhabited.

Inas quietly ventures a little further, looking for sign that whatever left the tracks he found near the entrance (or anything else) has been in this chamber.

In the middle of the group Saliq looked around, aglow with curiousity which he was trying to rein in with caution. The scent troubled him.

Simultaneously he was trying to focus his mind lest any individual or creature try to read or manipulate his thoughts. Somewhat to his chagrin he'd noticed he seemed to be unusually sensitive to such matters.

A quick search of the room reveals that something big must use this place, certainly it drinks at the fountain as their a deep scratches carved into the rock.   The water is cold and clean and surprisingly quiet, perhaps just in comparison the falls outside.  The room though is very clean otherwise, whatever lives here either has moved or simply isn't home now.  Even with a light, you cannot see the bottom of the pit where the water vanishes, and there is not other way out of the cavern.

ooc: I wish I could draw like that :-)

Marissa ignored the smell. She stood with Aldo as he looked down the pit.

Pulling a copper from her pouch, she said, "Maybe drop this one down there, see where it lands?"

Rath nodded. "Drop it. I'm watching."

Cast Light, drop coin...

Marissa drops the lighted coin and for a second, it tumbles downward, you see its light reflected in streaming patterns as it reflects off the water pouring down.  He hear only on clink as it hits a wall but pretty quickly it is swallowed up by both the water and the depth of the pit, after 100 ft or so you can no longer see anything of it.



ooc:  A few minutes later, you hear drums, drums in the deep.  NAH, not really.

ooc: LOL!

ooc: if I don't hear otherwise, I'll assume you move on to the Northern passage, unless anyone decides to drink from the waterfall, no one did that, did they?

OOC: Not I

_____________________

"Let's look at the northern passage.  I don't think that what we seek could have gone that way."

ooc: I'm tempted now to take a sip.

Marissa looks at the waterfall, wonders why she had the sudden desire to drink deeply from it. Distrustful of sudden whims, she turns away and follows Inas.

Leaving the waterfall cavern behind, Inas leads you back by the main entrance, its roaring falls send mist and cool waves of air at your back as you head into the other passage.

Also of very natural stone, the tunnel leads more or less straight ahead with a slight incline. As you move forward, the sound of the falls fade a good bit, and the floors look smooth and worn.

As you move forward, each of you feels some mild discomfort, a slight headache, general malaise, nothing serious but noticeable.  After about sixty yards, there are some rough hewn stairs leading up, just a few of them but like ledges, almost 4 feet each in height.  Standing on the first of these is a ghostly image, you can partially see through him, or it.  A man in ancient priestly robes.

"Go back, you are NOT welcome here, the steps of mourning and woe do not abide trespassers"




This message was last edited by the GM at 01:24, Sat 26 May 2018.

To counter the malaise, Marissa casts 'Bless'.

Inas watches the ghostly figure, intent on determining whether it appears to be "real" or a programmed illusion of some sort.

Marissa's spell does make most party members feel a little better, not entirely, but a bit better, everyone but Marissa herself, who has a wave of ill feeling that nearly causes her to pass out.  It sweeps through her leaving her standing, but a little weaker than she was.

The ghostly figure, stares at all of you.

"I said go back, you are NOT welcome here"

Her pallor gone pale, Marissa nearly swooned, stumbled a step before catching her balance.

"I don't think he appreciated my effort," she murmured through a grimace.

Rath smirked at himself as he almost had an urge to steady Marissa when she swooned. Gotta be careful not to get chivalrous in my old age.

He had his trident in hand, but he was not at all certain he could harm the guardian, of if harming it was even a great idea. Instead, he shrugged and raised his pendant of Pelor. "No. You go back."

[OOC: turn undead, for what it's worth.]

Inas waits.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:30, Mon 28 May 2018.

As does Folke, curious about the effect this strange spectre is having on the group.  If indeed a true ghostly presence it is...

The figure shrugs its ghostly shoulders,  "You were warned, your blood is on other hands than mine".

With that, it fades from sight.

"Somehow, I think it meant us well."

From where he stands, Inas looks for signs of occupants or traffic.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:56, Tue 29 May 2018.

"I agree, that seemed more like a warning to persuade us to stay from danger not to punish us," Saliq replied, stroking his goatee.

"Folke you are a widely traveled man, know you of tales of benign guardians such as this?"

Rath looked down at his holy pendant, surprised that he had the faith to drive away the spirit. “Hunh,” he muttered. “You all reAdy to move on?”

With the departure of the spectral figure and his warnings, Inas checks the floor for tracks.  It is worn smooth and is mostly stone so it is hard to tell much.  Clearly the passage has had travelers over it but how long ago or what type, is beyond even a master rangers abilities.  Rath is impressed with his undead command, and while Folke has heard many tales of helpful spirits, nothing quite matches this odd encounter.
Moving forward another 100 feet, the party comes to another steep set of rises, like high steps.  Climbing them is surprisingly tiring, and in general, everyone continues to feel malaise, a little short of breathe, even a slight headache.
Continuing forward, even another 50 feet becomes increasingly uncomfortable, and the light seems to dim, even blur a bit.  Stopping to consider these new symptoms, the party looks around.  What you see are your companions as you’d guess they would have looked in 30 years or more.  Folke actually looks the age he ought to be, having been suspended for 30 years, but graying hair, lines forming at the edges of the eyes, a slight loss of muscle tone.
Standing where you are, you can see that the corridor continues a short ways, then turns slightly with another steep, steep staircase, coming down from those stairs is the distant hum of voices in song.

"Saliq?" Inas questions, haltingly.  "Are we ok to continue?"

He flexes his arms as he holds his equipment, trying to gauge whether his muscles feel the passage of time reflected in his appearance.

Inas finds he is not only a little weaker, but oddly clumsy.  Everyone feels the same except for Folke, who has aged, and feels weaker, but not so clumsy.

Saliq has heard of many types of magic that cause un-natural aging, haste spells, wishes, strange decks of cards, even cursed items, but a seemingly natural stone passage causing it, it doesn't make sense magically, at least not by the rules of prime material plane.

ooc: hard to explain, but imagine you go from 20 to 50 in minutes.  Your brain still thinks your body will move a certain way, it doesn't, you all aren't seriously in bad shape (yet), but even a slight delay in a movement, a slight weakness, would cause pretty strange effects on the body.  Like people with the first sign of Parkinsons start dropping things, and stumbling over what they think is nothing.   

Rath scowled, first at his companions and then at himself. "Mama always told me I'd die young," he muttered. "Guess she was wrong about that." He threw down a protective ward, not expecting it to do much for him against this aging effect, but what the hell.

[OOC: cast protection vs. evil on Rath]

He listened. There were voices, singing. "Vanirhalvt, you recognize that ditty?"

Marissa casts detect magic.

Folke shook his head in response to Rath, a look of concern upon his suddenly older features.  His half-elven blood afforded some protection against the effects of time and he looked somewhat more hale than the others, but there was no doubt he still felt the effects of whatever magic had befallen them.

Rath's interest in the faint music reinforced a thought he'd already had, and he unslung his harp and quickly brought the item into tune.  Then his fingers danced across the strings in a soft but playful melody evocative of springtime, where gentle breezes carried the promise of youthful vigour far and wide.  As he played he tried to control the volume, making it loud enough to drown out the music coming from ahead but nothing more.


OOC:

In case the musical tune we are hearing from ahead is in any way creating this effect, Folke is trying to counteract that with his bard-like abilities.

I can try another route if this or Rath's and Marissa's spells fail to tell us much.

"I don't know what magic this is," Saliq admits reluctantly. "It is possible it just a trick, but if so it a passing clever one."

The illusion studies his hands and face, both by vision and by touch. Then he closes his eyes, tries to clear his mind of all thought save that of what he should look like. I disbelieve, he whispered to himself. I disbelieve.

The group tries a few things, is there magic here, yes, but its all around, and hard to define, the whole place seems infused in it.  It is real.  Yes, it seems to be, at least, disbelieving it has no effect.   The protection from evil that Rath casts, doesn't alter the situation, but its effects will last awhile so it might yet come into play.   Folke begins to play a tune, and at first, it seems to only to drown out the chanting song from ahead, but after a few minutes, everyone begins to feel slightly better, and then the chanting becomes louder.

"Ah, well done, Master Folke," Marissa said. "You seem to have gotten their attention. Let's see what other tricks they may play."

Rath looked for the sign from Saliq to advance, and, if it was given, Rath took the lead and moved forward toward the chanting choir.

Inas shuffles along when Aldo leads the advance.

  With Rath taking the lead, the party moves slowly forward, finding a sharp set of stairs that spiral up and around.  Despite the positive effects of Folke's music, every step closer to the sound of low singing becomes an effort.  Lights flicker around and the sounds of the song echo around as if from a great chamber.

   The staircase ends opening into a vast underground temple.  A huge room with high vaulted ceilings and more than a dozen large columns lies before you.  Beyond that, two great firepits
flame and smoke on either side of a wide stair.  At the top of that, half a dozen figures in robes stand facing away from you.  In fact, they do not seem to have noticed your arrival.

   Beyond them, a large room with alcoves on either side, and at the far end, three large copper pots that glow with coals and magic, their smoke spirals up to a central spot high above them where a huge figure floats in the air, something demonic, you can tell by the crawling feeling on your skin when you see it.

Lying on the floor, midway between these chanting men and demonlord, a smallish cage, with a scaled creature in it, trying desperately to escape its cage.



This message was last edited by the GM at 20:53, Tue 05 June 2018.

OOC: what’s the distance from us to the demon?  And the closet of the robed figures?

In reply to Aldo Rathmus (msg # 144):

100 feet to the robed men, twice that to demon.

Inas stifles a groan; whether it's because of what he sees or the sudden growing pain in his creaky joints is hard to say.  Quietly, he readies his bow.

"Rath, can you remove the curse, or dispel their enchantment? That is beyond my ability, but would seem most helpful about now."

Rath nodded. He could dispel magics, but removing a curse had but a single beneficiary. "Might take out half our potions," he muttered, but he raised his pendant and prepared to cast a spell ... yet he waited for a yes or no from the others in his party.

[OOC: what do you think, folks? I have a 36% chance of dispelling each potion in our possession, and who knows how much chance to dispel the aging / malaise effects.]

As the adventurers stand in the shadows of the great twin flames bookending the stairs, contemplating in hushed tones what to do first, for surely only once will they
 have surprise, and priests, and a flying demon or devil of some kind are not to be trifled with even on a good day.  And being some 40 years older than they were just 30 minutes ago or less, today already seems a cursed day.   Even so, before they act, yet another surprise begins.

From the edge of far chamber, from a dark alcove to the left, a voice calls out,

"WHY?  WHY?  Tell me why this is taking so damn long???  You said it would work, that it would be easy I believe were your words.  Well, I grow impatient....".

A large man, a bit fat even, and nearly naked from the waste up, walks forward to the small cage, and kicks it.

"Why does it not age?  I only need twenty scales, do you understand, twenty scales of a rare dragon, but they must be mature, mature dammit, not some baby, give me that, and I will give you the world".

"Why don't we just step outside the range of the spell, Rath?" Marissa asks.

Then she sees the fat man. Gripping her spear tightly, she says through gritted teeth, "I do not like that man."

"Sweet goddess," Saliq mutters, drawing in the assembled forces against them. He glances at Marissa. "You are not alone my friend but we must be careful. After Rath has used his own magic I suggest I cloak us in invisibility and we move in towards the cage... or perhaps the demon. Better to deal with the leaders and the cause than wade through dozens of their pawns."

Rath looked grim and muttered quietly. "No, Musfara. Do it now. Cloak us. Spread out, but don't get near the choir. I'll drop the dispel right on top of them." Rath grabbed his potion of giant strength and downed it quickly -- hoping it might overcome this feeling of weakness and age.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:36, Thu 07 June 2018.

ooc: I am going to make some assumptions as we move forward, if I am wrong in them, tell me quickly, we can back up,  I will also move forward in slow moves for the same reason, this is deadly terrain, if I advance something you did not or would not do, tell me.



Saliq casts a spell and suddenly, everyone is invisible to the eye.  Slowly and as quietly as possible the party moves from column to column, nearing the chanting men in robes.  In a few minutes, you are within 30 feet of the base of the stairs, only 50 feet from the robed figures.  You are not noticed yet.   At this closer place, you get better look at the fatter man stomping around near the dragon cage, he is ugly.

Rath raised his sun-shaped pendant and threw down a spell, attempting to erase whatever magic the choir was setting up with its chant. Just after, he moved right, carefully and slowly, in case anyone or anything had drawn a bead on his location based on his spell-casting.

[OOC: Dispel Magic right into the middle of the cluster of robed figures. I'm figuring that doesn't count as an attack, so I should stay invisible. Also, do I have a sense for the effects of the potion I just drank?]

Inas drinks a potion of his own, hoping to compensate at least a little for the effects of this unnatural aging.

OOC: Potion of Speed.

Marissa's whisper is barely a breath. "Saliq, have we detected any illusions?"

"Not as such," Saliq whispers back, "but I know that man in the turban - Abdul Raazaq, as foul and villainous a wizard as they come and said to have a bound Marid as a slave. Which means that 'demon' may instead be a potent genie."

The skald crept forward with the others, or so he presumed since they were all cloaked for the moment.  He could barely hear Rath casting his spell and kept his eyes forward, waiting for some indication of the fledgling priest's success.

Rath casts his spell, and no one becomes visible.  Other than that it does not have any obvious effects.
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:32, Sat 09 June 2018.

"Or it may be the ogre magi," mused Marissa. "We need to do something lads. I'm not getting any younger."

"I'm ready to fire at the fat man; is everyone else ready?  And by the way: I bet freeing the dragon whelp would be helpful to us."

Inas pauses a three seconds, and then begins a countdown: "3  . . . 2 . . . "

OOC: Plenty of time for Rath to say "wait" if he wants to coordinate a spell to silence anyone chanting. :)
This message was last edited by the player at 19:24, Sat 09 June 2018.

"Wait a moment please," Saliq begs. The illusionist is staring intently at the rival sorceror and after a moment he begins speaking in strange and eerie words, moving his fingers in a complex dance.

Abdul Raazaq's hair begins to turn silver, then grey thinning as it goes. Wrinkles run across his face like young rivers carving their way down from the mountains. Liver spots dapple his hands, the fingers growing gnarled and the nails yellowing. Even his paunch sags like a skin full of cheap wine.

The sorceror has in moments begun to age decades and if he sees it and believes it he will feel it...

---

OOC: Saliq casts Spectral Force.

At the first sign that the enemy appears to be aware that something is amiss, Inas will fire.

Marissa casts Protection from Evil upon her person. She then prepares a light spell to cast direct upon someone's eyes - likely the mage, but I'll call that definitively when the fight starts.

While Saliq prematurely aged the wizard, Rath cast a deafening silence into the crowd of robed people ... aiming for a spot near the center of the cluster. He probably couldn’t silence them all, but perhaps even a few would disrupt their ritual.

Several things happen at once, some possibly for the good, some maybe not so much, only time will tell.

As the fat sorcerer begins to age rapidly, he looks at his hands and arms, then looks up a the flying monstrosity above, its face shows surprise as well as it too apparently is seeing the aging process.

About the same time, the chanting drops way down in volume as the center of the line of robed figures fall into a sphere of silence.  The others continue to chant but you can see them look around a bit confused by the changes in volume.

Abdul yells out, "You FOOLS, look what you have done, a thousand curses upon you stupid monsters.  Tazziq get me out of here NOW".

With that, both the flying Marid and the fat man vanish in a blink!

The robed figures begin to look around and as they do, you notice they are not human, you've seen their kind before and the tentacles dangling from within the cowls of their robes.  Despite you being invisible, you get the clear feeling they can sense you somehow.

ooc: round one to commence, PC's have initiative, there are 8 mind flayers lines up across the top of the stairs.

Marissa casts the light spell upon the eyes of the nearest flayer.

ooc: Since they're subterranean critters, wonder if that will cause some added issues for my target?

Saliq rubs the enchanted ring on his right hand: "Noble El Kabah I summon thy aid against these twisted mockeries of everything good!"

Inas mumbles something about "never been nimble anyhow" as he launches three arrows at a flayer.


11:00, Today: Inas Eoinsson rolled 21,8 using d20+3,d6+4.  Attack 1A.

11:00, Today: Inas Eoinsson rolled 15,10 using d20+3,d6+4.  Attack 1B.

11:00, Today: Inas Eoinsson rolled 13,6 using d20+3,d6+4.  Attack 1C.

13:19, Today: Inas Eoinsson rolled 12,6 using d20+3,d6+4.  Attack 1D.

13:20, Today: Inas Eoinsson rolled 16,6 using d20+3,d6+4.  Attack 1E.


This message was last edited by the player at 18:21, Mon 11 June 2018.

Though his joints aches with age, Rath surged with strength. As the chanters turned, the floor of Rath’s stomach dropped. If he had been visible, he’d have been pale as a sheet. “Gods. Damn. $&@#%! Fireball. Fireball. Fire. Ball. Folke, godsdammit, FIRE $&@#%ing  BALL!”

Rath put a ward on himself. “I’ll get the dragon.” He took off at a full sprint, circling the cluster of flayers and making his way toward the caged dragonling.

OOC:cast Sanctuary on Rath.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:58, Mon 11 June 2018.

"That won't work," Folke shot back, but the profane demand from Rath started a germ of an idea.  "But maybe this will," he breathed under his breath.  Still holding his harp, he coaxed a certain series of notes from the strings and focused his attention on the bonfire closest to the row of mindflayers.

""Let's see if that heats things up a little."


OOC:

Cast Enlarge on bonfire closest to the largest number of mindflayers.  Results in increase of 90% to the size of the fire (and hopefully resultant damage).

As the fat sorcerer and his Marid vanish,  the confused robed flayers discover they are being watched from behind, despite the invisbility cast on the party members, the flayers psionic minds can feel other beings in the room, and nearly see them.

Almost immediately the group springs to action,  Saliq calling forth his djinn which rises from the ring ready to do his bidding.    Inas, moving at super speed, fires off a barrage of arrows, slamming time and again into the flayer farthest to the left.   Marissa and Rath both cast spells, Rath to make himself safer, Marissa in an attempt to blind one and maybe distract other of the enemy.   Marissa’s light spell winks into existence just behind the Flayer she aimed it at, and while it does brighten the stairwell, it does not seem to damage the flayers.   Rath, who despite his new older age, seems ultra-strong and heads to rush past the flayers to get to the cage.  Two of the creatures however, move to attack him.  Folke speaks arcane words and the large brazier of fire on the right suddenly the fuel source for it nearly doubles in size causing the fire to spill out over the sides, it catches two of the flayers in its wake engulfing them in flames.  (doing 17 hps damage to each).

The two creatures that attack Rath manage to hit him three times, for minor damage ( 4hps) but their tentacles begin to wiggle inside him seeking his brain to eat!   One of the flayers falls back and begins to levitate, moving 30 feet off the ground.    Two are moving to get out of the flames as they retreat.   The other three stand their ground speaking in their odd language  (Folke, Saliq, and Marissa, SAVE VS. Magic,  also roll a Wisdom check ).





Mind Flayers:     AC: 5 ,  90% Magic Resistance
HPS:  42/6 (Rath) 45/45 (Rath) 30/30  53/53 (levitating), 38/38. 29/29, 41/24 (fire), 45/28 (fire)


PC       AC    HP   AP  0  1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10   Notes

Inas     2   83/67   3   14 13 12 11 10  9  8  7  6  5  4  Speed
Rath     2   67/47   2   14 13 12 11 10  9  8  7  6  5  4  Strength 23  Sanctuary  Invis
Saliq    7   26/26   3   18 17 16 15 14 13 12 11 10  9  8  Invis
Marissa  2   57/43   3   14 13 12 11 10  9  8  7  6  5  4  Prot Evil  Invis
Folke    2   39/39   4   14 13 12 11 10  9  8  7  6  5  4


(Marissa, Folke, and Saliq, save vs MAGIC and make a d20 roll as a Wisdom check (you want to roll lower than or equal to your WIS....if you FAIL both of these, post no action next round, otherwise, you are fine :-)

END of Round One, PC's are up

OOC Am I helpless while the flayers eat my brain or can I fight?

In reply to Aldo Rathmus (msg # 174):

You can fight, at least until they eat your brains, after that, not so much.

Saliq blinks and shakes his head, then gestures at the Mind Flayers seeking to devour Rath's mind. "El Kabah aid my friend against these monstrosities!"

---

OOC: 19:32, Today: Saliq Musfara rolled 1 using 1d20.  Wisdom (14).

19:31, Today: Saliq Musfara rolled 12 using 1d20.  Save vs. Magic (10).

Rolls:

14:35, Today: Marissa Ehridol rolled 4 using 1d20.  wisdom.

14:35, Today: Marissa Ehridol rolled 9 using 1d20.  save vs spells. +1 for Protection from evil, I believe will make it a 10. If anyone has any buffs going on, let me know.

Saliq can act on top of commanding Kabah,  Marissa you are good to act save was made, Rath can attack

Saliq began chanting once more and drawing weird sigils in the air. Gesturing at the already enlarged fire heated up by Folke.

A pair of cruel eyes and a maw formed in the blaze and with terrible purpose a towering Fire Elemental stepped away from the brazier and towards the nearest Mind Flayers.

---

OOC: Saliq casts Shadow Monsters - the forming from the Enlarged fire is a special effect! 

Marissa calls forth the power of fire. The tip of her spear bursts into a white hot flame and she skirts the flaming brazier and charges the nearest Mind Flayer with her best warcry. And then she utterly misses on her strike.

Natty 1. You can't make this stuff up. Sigh.

Marissa will take an action point to reroll vs. the Mind Flayer currently flaying Rath.

Marissa calls forth the flame (for 8 rounds) on her spear and sprints toward Rath, circling the mind flayers as best she can. As she draws near the mind flayer eating Rath's brain (an appetizer, no more, she is certain), she attempts to stab the thing to death (to hit: rolls a 14) (Damage 9)
This message was last edited by the player at 02:58, Thu 14 June 2018.

El Kabah immediately flies to Rath's side, taking two mighty swings with his massive fists, landing one on the more injured of the flayers attacking Rath, sending it to its death.  His second swing at the other flayer is wide.

ooc: 15 pts damage

[EDIT]

Eyes wide and mouth open in soundless scream, Rath thrust with Devilsbane. His vision blurred. He maintained awareness only of the tentacles in his brain. But he was at close quarters and he was imbued the strength of a cloud giant, and Avandra's lucky hand guided his trident. He struck, hard and deep. And he withdrew the tines, and, coughing up blood and vomit, he thrust again.  ... but it wasn't enough to slay the slithery thing. Almost, but not enough. Rath prayed, but he didn't know if he was praying for survival or praying for a quick death.

17:15, Today: Aldo Rathmus rolled 8,25,21,22 using d20+7,d20+7,d6+17,d6+17. attack flayer.

Oh, for Pelor's sake. I need to roll a fricking 2 to hit the mind flayer, and on the first attack I rolled a nat 1. Anyway, one hit for 22 damage. That includes the trident's +2 damage vs. lawful evil creatures.   Using an action point, even adding 1 to that natural
1 will change the miss to a hit. (I need a 9 to hit AC 5. Roll of 2 + 5 Strength bonus + 1 magic trident + 1 specialization. So:

Two hits for a total of 43 damage.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:05, Thu 14 June 2018.

Inas continues providing artillery fire, starting with flayers in proximity to Rath, then outward from there.

08:06, Today: Inas Eoinsson rolled 11,10 using d20+3,d6+4.  Round 2A.

08:06, Today: Inas Eoinsson rolled 5,7 using d20+3,d6+4.  Round 2B.

08:05, Today: Inas Eoinsson rolled 21,10 using d20+3,d6+4.  Round 2C.

08:05, Today: Inas Eoinsson rolled 23,5 10 using d20+3,d6+4.  Round 2D.
  CHANGED TO 10 DUE TO NATURAL 20

08:05, Today: Inas Eoinsson rolled 18,10 using d20+3,d6+4.  Round 2E.

Round three of combat, lost in fog of war.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:16, Thu 21 June 2018.

The tentacles slipped from Rath's head and he turned toward the dragon's cage, but he stopped in mid-stride and turned back. His face held no fear, no anger, no much of anything. Just blank, soulless eyes, without so much as a smirk on his face.



Uh, I thought my new-found wisdom bonus from aging would help me out here, but Avandra -- fickle Lady Luck -- let me down. Another natural 1. Sorry, folks. I'll be trying to kill you.
And I'm wicked strong.

11:58, Today: Aldo Rathmus rolled 4 using 1d20+3. save vs. spells (target 13).

DM - should I wait to pick a target until after the others have determined the effects of the domination?

Sanctuary is no longer in place, FYI, due to last round's attacks.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:06, Sun 17 June 2018.

Saliq's eyes widen as he sees Rath's expression. The illusionist calls out: "El Kabah continue fighting!"

Drawing a deep breath Saliq begins muttering another spell... and suddenly a doppelganger of the noble Djinni steps from behind Rath, expression determined and ready to strike at the dominated fighter.

---

OOC: 20:15, Today: Saliq Musfara rolled 18 using 1d20.  Save vs. Magic (10).

Saliq casts Shadow Monsters to create a second Djinni - exactly akin to El Kabah... who course is also still in Rath's vicinity.

Folke felt the push against his mind again, the compulsion to set aside his free will, but recognizing the touch made it easier to resist and the skald was able to shrug off the attempt with little trouble.  He could see that at least one of his companions had not been so lucky, as Rath continued toward the dragon for a step or two before suddenly stopping and turning, the blank look on his face more fearsome than any enraged visage he could have conjured.



OOC:

16:42, Today: Folke Vanirhalvt rolled 19 using 1d20+2.

Like Rath, I'd like to see the results of the saves before choosing an action.  I will either cast a spell, and fire some arrows.  It all depends on Marissa and Inas...

07:55, Today: Inas Eoinsson rolled 23 using 1d20+5.  save (13 to make).


Inas's grim determination wards off any effort to control his mind.  And he figures that the best way to avert the effect is to kill the slimy beasts -- quickly.

Hopefully, the fact that they are relatively still makes them easier to hit . . .


07:55, Today: Inas Eoinsson rolled 23 using 1d20+5.  save (13 to make).

07:57, Today: Inas Eoinsson rolled 20,9 using d20+3,d6+4.  Round 3A.

07:57, Today: Inas Eoinsson rolled 9,10 using d20+3,d6+4.  Round 3B.

07:57, Today: Inas Eoinsson rolled 8,8 using d20+3,d6+4.  Round 3C.

07:57, Today: Inas Eoinsson rolled 7,10 using d20+3,d6+4.  Round 3D.

07:57, Today: Inas Eoinsson rolled 20,10 using d20+3,d6+4.  Round 3E.

With an alien mind behind his eyes, Rath saw that Ehridol, of all of these, was an ally, so he turned from her to face the new threat, this shadow djinni, and he strived to take it down.

20:41, Today: Aldo Rathmus rolled 9,24 using d20+7,3d4+14. 20:41, Today: Aldo Rathmus rolled 22,22 using d20+7,3d4+14.

I don't know the shadow monster's AC. I rolled damage against a large creature, so let me know if the djinni is small or man-sized.

Hits AC 5 for 24 damage. Hits AC -8 for 22 damage.

Seeing Marissa also fall to the illithids' fell powers, Folke set aside his thought of spellcasting and instead tried his best to emulate Inas with his bow.  He chose one of the creatures at the end opposite Rath and Marissa and with good reason, as it turned out.  One arrow flew well wide of his target, but at least the other flew true.  Unfortunately it caught more of the creature's robes than flesh, doing only minimal damage.


OOC:

Fire arrows at one of the flayers injured by the enlarged fire.

20:58, Today: Folke Vanirhalvt rolled 2 using 1d6+1.  Damage (really).
20:57, Today: Folke Vanirhalvt rolled 2,6 using 1d20+1,1d20+1.  Damage.
20:57, Today: Folke Vanirhalvt rolled 21,5 using 1d20+1,1d20+1.  Arrow attacks on mindflayer. One hit.

Marissa casts 'Dust Devil' and sends the whirlwind toward the archers of the group.

Saliq commands El Kabah to continue the attack and then summons a shadow genie to join the fight.   El Kabah, being able to fly, chooses to fly up and attack the flayer who is levitating.  Sadly, his attack misses.   Rath, whose relief at no longer having snakes in his head is quickly replaced by having no willpower in his head, turns and strikes the shadow genie that crumbles back into nothingness at the blow.   Marissa also turns and goes blank a moment before summoning a small dust devil and sends it down the stairs towards the archers.  Folke fires a few arrows, striking one of the flayers for a minor wound.  Inas continues his speed enhanced barrage of arrows, however, with mixed results this round.  Two arrows go astray, one strikes its target, one simply stops in mid air about ten feet away and hovers there, and the other swings in a large circle and hits Folke in the side.


The two uninjured flayers rush forward and close the gap, standing before Inas and Folke ready to fight hand to hand.  The two injured flayers also charge but have to circle around the flames so only make it to the top of the stairs this round.  These four flayers, unlike most you've seen, carry strange curved swords.   The levitating flayer attacks Kabah, managing to sink one tentacle into the head of the genie.

Rath and Marissa both take a seat on the top step of the grand staircase, close their eyes, and are silent.



Mind Flayers:     AC: 5 ,  90% Magic Resistance
HPS:  42/dead (Rath) 45/dead (Rath) 30/dead  53/34 (levitating)(Kabah), 38/38. 29/29, 41/14 (fire), 45/28 (fire)


PC       AC    HP   AP  0  1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10   Notes

Inas     2   83/67   3   14 13 12 11 10  9  8  7  6  5  4  Speed
Rath     2   67/47   2   14 13 12 11 10  9  8  7  6  5  4  Strength 23  Dominated
Saliq    7   26/26   3   18 17 16 15 14 13 12 11 10  9  8
Marissa  2   57/43   3   14 13 12 11 10  9  8  7  6  5  4  Prot Evil  Dominated
Folke    2   39/29   4   14 13 12 11 10  9  8  7  6  5  4

Marissa and Rath, because the flayers are not making you do anything directly to attack your friends this round, you do not get an automatic save to break free, however, sitting by and letting them die isn't in your nature either so you get a tough chance, ROLL below your wisdom with d20+4 and you can make a SAVE vs. magic to break free.


PC's are up for round 4

Roll for chance at save: 11 yes

Roll to save: 1+2 = 3: Fail.

Well, that was fun. Ergh!

Folke didn't even see the arrow curve unnaturally toward him, but when it slammed home there was no mistaking the pain.  Clutching at his side, he saw the mindflayer rushing forward toward him, sword in hand.  The skald dropped his bow and readied his short spear, forcing the feathered shaft from his mind and engaging the illithid when it came within reach.

Unfortunately for the northerner his thrust was wide, easily evaded by the enemy.


OOC:

20:27, Today: Folke Vanirhalvt rolled 8 using 1d20+1.  Attack mindflayer w/spear. Miss!

Next to Marissa, Rath sat on his muscular butt, quietly, eyes closed. If there was anything going on in his mind, there was no outward indication of it.

OOC: Botched the wisdom roll.

In desperation Saliq pulled open his backpack and after a terrible moments silence pulls out a bizarre book. The illusionist holds it aloft in one hand and glares at the Mindflayers.

"Let my comrades go or I'll destroy this tome this instant."

A stillness comes over the scene,  great attention is suddenly on Saliq, almost every tentacle in the room.

The levitating flayer, speaks through a host of sounds, difficult to understand, but one word resonates.

"Terms"

Saliq suppresses a shudder. He speaks clearly and slowly, in the faint hope his companions will be able to free themselves.

"My humans friends, the Djinni and the dragon... release them."

There is a general buzzing in the all your minds, it is not an attack, just a lot of mind flayer discussion going on.  Then the flayer speaks again, through a series of bizzarre sounds, somehow words form, "We get the book, unharmed, then yes, agreed" 

Almost immediately, a sharp tug pulls the book from Saliq's hand and it flies up to the flayer who appears to be the leader.

El Kabah is released, and Rath and Marissa awakened from their control, their minds are their own.  Almost instantly the remaining living mind flayers slip in the astral plane and vanish.

The party is left alone, with three dead flayers, and a baby dragon in a cage, the flickering of the fires light the huge cavern but all else seems quiet.

Saliq lets out a shuddering breath and tried to quash the sudden feelings of unease. "Is everyone okay?"

Cautiously he approaches the dragon cage, unsure what state of mind the young beast was in. "Don't be alarmed we're friends."

Rath stood up. Perhaps to some surprise, his mind was clear. It might have been the enforced time-out had done him good. “Well, that won’t come back to haunt us,”   he growled, but he threw Musfara a look of gratitude that few have seen from Rath. He moved toward the cage and said to the little dragon, “Let’s get you out of there.”

With the strength of a giant, Rath tore at the bars.

OOC: 75% on the bend bars check.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:53, Fri 22 June 2018.

Rath rips the metal cage apart with his bare hands.  The tiny dragon stares up at Saliq and Rath for a few moments with wary eyes, it isn't much larger than a common house cat, with scales and wings.  Then, it leaps into Rath's arms, snuffling his face before jumping on top of Saliq's head, leaning down to stare at him eye to eye (him being upside down), and then launches herself into the air to fly around the cavern.
Like most things that can fly, it finds joy in the freedom of it.

As it soars around though, it spots Marissa and makes a beeline to her, landing so hard on her chest it nearly knocks her down.

For a few moments, it sniffs, and scratches at the silver white scales of her armor plate before crawling up to her shoulder and wrapping itself around her neck. And makes a sound that isn't too far from a purr.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:20, Sat 23 June 2018.

Rath smirked uncomfortably at the affection the little dragon showed him, happy enough when it moved on to bother Saliq and Marissa.

"So I'm waiting for the next boot to fall," he muttered, looking around uncomfortably. "How long before that wizard figures this out and pops back in?" He turns suddenly to Folke, poking him in the chest with one finger. "And what the hell is wrong with a fireball? Coulda taken 'em out -- BOOM! -- one blast."
This message was last edited by the player at 03:06, Sat 23 June 2018.

The skald stood there, blood dripping slowly from around the shaft Inas had loosed, spear held loosely in hand.  His face was a mixture of amazement and distrust, which argued across his features as he watched the scaled creature swoop and careen around the cavern, interspersed with playful overtures to some of the others.  He just couldn't bring himself to find joy in the display, such was the ingrained prejudice of a Northerner, but neither could he ignore the magnificence of such a creature.

His mind undecided, he simply stood there and stared.

"Go heal Folke, Rath," Marissa said quietly, her eyes affixed upon the little critter who's settled itself upon her shoulder. She touched the scales of the ancient dragon that adorn her armor, rubs the ridges upon the little one's crest, and nods.

"Your forebear was very brave," she noted aloud. "And yes, it is time for us to be away from here."

Turning to the others, she said, "Our new companion suggests we depart. This isn't our world."

Digging into her pack, she found a bit of trail rations which she offered to their new companion, then she began the journey out of the cavern.

"Quick work, Master Saliq," she added over her shoulder, her grin radiant at his cleverness. "You've my thanks, once again."

The finger to the chest woke Folke up, tearing his divided mind from the dragon hatchling and focusing it on Rath's misplaced anger.  He slapped at Rath's hand with a backhanded swat of his arm, before responding.  His brows were drawn, his eyes glaring - he was annoyed.

"Because I am not able to cast that spell for one, and perhaps more importantly because they are extremely resistant to magic," he spat.  "It would have looked fabulous and done nothing but singe their robes.  Not so resistant to normal fire though, so I tried the next best thing I could think of."

"I am sorry I don't have the same battle prowess you do."  The skald stared back at Rath, indignant.  If he heard Marissa's attempt at mollifying them he gave no sign.  As far as leaving, that sounded good to him.

Rath grimaced and met Folke's gaze and quieted down. "I'm just blowing off steam. I'm an idiot. You should know that by now."

Rath wrenched out Inas' arrow from the bard and closed up the wound with a prayer. He tossed the arrow to the floor.

"And as for prowess, well, I seem to remember you killing a flayer back on that island, when it had my brain in its clutches. So there's that."

After a long pause, he added, "I could have sworn I've seen you cast fire ball. Must have been some other bard ... ."<sup>1



1</sup>In some other game ... .

Cure light wounds = 6 HP.

07:17, Today: Aldo Rathmus rolled 6 using 1d8. cure light wounds.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:30, Sat 23 June 2018.

"We are all alive, gentlemen," Marissa said with a relieved laugh - there was a moment, after all, where that was in some doubt. "Let us be away with cheer on our tongues and no rancor in our hearts. Survival, in itself, is an accomplishment against such as those fell beings. If I never see one again, it will be too soon."

Her thoughts shared, she goes back to rubbing her new friend beneath its chin. A small smile of wonder flits across her face as the little miracle closes its eyes contentedly beneath her ministrations.

"I agree, best we be off." Saliq says. He looks at the tiny dragon in awe, perhaps ever so slightly jealous that she had bonded with Marissa.

"Can you talk to her? Has she a name?"

"Oh, a keen question," Marissa admitted somewhat ruefully. "I must admit to being wonder-struck. I should have thought to ask that myself."

"Do you feel comfortable sharing that information with me and the others, dear heart?" she asks aloud for all to hear.

ooc: doh! what a maroon. epic fail, player no. 1...

The little dragon speaks a louder, though its barely a whisper, "Call me Astrel" and it seem to giggle to itself.

Then whispers softer so only Marissa can hear, "Are these all friends of mine? I don't think the handsome one likes me?"

As the party begins to head out, you begin to notice that the edges of the large chamber are getting fuzzy, as if they are fading.

"Move faster," Rath urged. His knees were sore. And he wondered if this old age would wear off, or if he was stuck with it for whatever was left of his life.

As the party leaves the two large chambers behind, making their way as quickly as their older bodies will allow down the steep staircase, each step down the very floor they are walking on begins to fade.

As they reach the floor of the long corridor that brought them up from the waterfalls, they find its floor is solid, and a moment later, the staircase they just came down is gone, replaced by solid stone.  Everyone is ought of breathe but alive.

"Yes, dear," Marissa said as he hot-footed out of the chamber. "They are all friends, even the grumpy, somewhat older, but very handsome one."

Her tone dry, Marissa said to Folke, "Don't let that go to your head."

To everyone she added, "Her name is Astral. Apparently she has a sense of humor."

Surprised, Rath opened his mouth to say something ...



... then shut it again and scratched his neck, realizing the Marissa hadn't been talking about him.

After accepting Rath's apology Folke gratefully accepted the blessing.  "Don't worry about it," he said by way of his own apology.  "We were all on edge."  His eyes skittered to the dragon with Marissa for a second, then closed as Rath withdrew the arrow.

Their escape from the rapidly disappearing realm spooked the skald and he didn't really need Rath's urgings to hasten back down the stairs.  Once they had a moment to catch their breath, he rolled the dragon's name over in his head.  Astrel.  Did that mean anything to him?

Then Marissa mentioned the 'very handsome one' and Folke glanced at Rath with a somewhat smug, self-satisfied look on his face, especially when Rath opened his mouth to speak.  But then Marissa chided him without even realizing it, and the skald flushed and had his expression wiped clean.  It was all he could do not to say "Yes, ma'am," on the end of it.

Once recovered from the light scolding, Folke looked around at his companions, though his gaze never lingered directly on the dragon.  "Where do we head now?  Somewhere safe from the Siggurdsdottir and Elexi both, I think?"

"Where would you like to go, young one?" Marissa asked the dragon.

Saliq smiled at the tiny dragon, and bowed lightly. "A pleasure to meet you Astrel. I am Saliq. Unfortunately I fear our troubles have not yet ended and greater celebrations and introductions must wait."

His smile faded as he glanced at the others. "Do you all still feel old?"

The little dragon giggles, and it sounds like a childs innocent giggle.

"I don't know, I've never been anywhere before.  I was born in that cage, and there I've stayed.  I would have died of fright or loneliness if the little funny man hadn't sent me dreams.  He showed me all your faces, and your names, and said the great heroes were coming to save me.  And he showed me my parent in its youth, and sent dreams to let me sleep in comfort.  I guess I want to meet him, this dream sender, if he's real.  And yes, you all look quite a bit older than you did in the dreams,  how long have you been looking for me?"

Inas had been silent for some time, almost as if his mind were elsewhere -- which, given their recent foes, was a distinct possibility.

But he was actually replaying things out, trying to determine whether they had made matters worse despite rescuing the dragon.  If the flayers were happy to trade it for the book, then . . .


Astrel's brings another thought to the front of the ranger's mind.  He had hoped that their strength and youth would return once the environment reverted.  That it hadn't prompted a response from Inas.

It was just a groan, but it was still a response.

"Lads, I'm thinking only someone of great power can reverse these affects. Perhaps our patron might be one of such strength. We have Astrel; let us retreat then in effort to affect a cure."

The party makes its way back down the long corridor and multiple sets of stairs.  It seems to take longer than it looks like should, and its tiring, maybe its just the aging effects.  When you reach bottom, the moisture from the waterfall is refreshing.  Looking around, you are still aged.  You meet no one else, and all is quiet (well, not quite, there is the roaring, deafening waterfall).

As the party stands in the lower chamber, catching their breathe, they notice that their breathe is coming out in little clouds of white.  Suddenly, the roaring of the waterfall becomes but a trickle, as the entire thing freezes solid.

The cavern becomes quite cold, and Astrel digs herself deep into Marissa hair.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:54, Wed 27 June 2018.

Saliq draws Folke aside: "My friend I don't want to seem impatient but we are, as you can no doubt tell, not growing any younger. If you do not wish to use the scroll allow me."

With age came wisdom, and, for Rath, with wisdom came divine power. "Let me try something," he said. Typically, Rath threw down divine spells without much confidence, but he gave this one a shot and called out a dramatic prayer, waving his arms toward ... Inas, chosen as if at random from among his companions.

[OOC: Using an extra bonus 3rd level spell slot from old age, Rath casts remove curse on the ranger.]

Inas doesn't move from his spot, but readies an arrow.

"Why is it so cold in here?" he demands.  His eyes search for something capable of freezing the large, moving waterfall even as he fears what he might find.

"Is there a cause for this, dear one?" Marissa asks the dragon.

Astrel sticks her nose out from Marissa's hair, takes a few sniffs, "Dragons", then ducks back under.

Inas just shakes his head, as his fear is confirmed.  "Think they're friends of yours, mebbe?" he says as he looks for something draconic.

[OOC: Waiting to see if the remove curse has any effect. Does Rath notice the cold? I missed any mention of it until Inas pointed it out.]

Rath casts his remove curse spell, and he feels that odd but nice feeling that some force rushes forth to his bidding.  Yet, nothing changes.

The waterfall is frozen solid, there is still gap to leave as you came in, and it is cold now due to the frozen waterfall.  Saliq feels it just a little, protected by magic as he is.

In reply to GM Bard (msg # 231):

Ah, sorry. I completely missed that message!

As the party stands there wondering what to do next, the frozen waterfall begins to creak and crack.  Water from the river above is still running down the outer side of the ice and though quite cold from the Northern Mountains where it comes, it is still melting the frozen falls.  In a minute or two, the whole frozen falls is likely to go crashing below.   Listening, the party can hear wings beating beyond the falls.

Saliq motions for quiet. "Inas, you are our best outdoorsman... can you tell how many wingbeats there are - on creature or many?"

Inas nods, and holds up two fingers.

Rath mutters, “Pelor’s warmth protect you,” and touches Folke with his sun-shaped pendant. (Casting resist cold on Folke.) If he has time, he offers Inas and Marisa the same blessing.

Marissa offers the same blessing to Astrel.

When done, she asks the little dragon, "Are they friends of yours, or foes?"



Resist cold on Astrel.

Folke nodded and whispered a quiet thanks to Rath as he delivered his blessing.  The skald's momentary confusion about Saliq's reference to a scroll had cleared; he understood what the illusionist was after but now there wasn't time.  For they new there was a dragon outside, or possibly two.  And only one kind of dragon's breath would freeze a waterfall solid.

"We need to back away from the opening," Folke hissed to his companions, even as the unyielding flow of the river threatened to melt away the temporary freeze.  "Only the northern white wyrms can freeze with their breath, and none are friendly.  We don't want to be standing right in the way if it tries again."

True to his urgings the skald begins to edge back and to the side of the watery opening, seeking greater cover.

The little dragon says, "So far, you are the only friends I have.  But I think they live here."

"I thought the great silvers could breath ice & cold as well, Master Folke. As with any such lore, I defer to your wisdom, yet I seem to recall having heard as much in my travels. Are you certain the dragons without are whites?

"Also, Astrel indicates that the two wyrms circling actually live here. If we could get a peek, might offer some insight as to what's going on."

This message was last edited by the player at 00:16, Mon 02 July 2018.

Rath glanced around. "I'm game. Let's go take a look. Anyone want to join me?"

"I would, but I seem to have become the caretaker for our young friend here," Marissa said while rubbing the tiny drake's chin.

Strangely, Marissa seems hesitant to allow the others to hold Astrel.

"I'll go."

Inas keeps his bow out, figuring it is unlikely that a dragon will sneak up on anyone.

Saliq looked thoughtful. "I better go too... we made need a trick or two depending on what we see."

He raised a bemused eyebrow at Marissa's words. "So it seems."

The party moves to the chilly waterfalls edge and moves carefully along the slippery rock path they entered upon.   Stepping beyond the roaring falls and far enough along to actually see through the mist that billows up around the edges of the great waterfall.


For a moment, they nearly freeze themselves, not from the falls, or any weapon, but just the sight, of not one but two huge dragons.  Hovering with the large beating of their wings, just beyond the waters edge, staring at you!!!  It takes a few heartbeats to see the shimmering to their scales, silver not white.

The larger of the two speaks in a deep booming voice.
"Who dares to enter this sacred place.  If harm has come to the grand dragon, you will pay for it with your lives".

Marissa steps forward, and shows the wee one to her great kin.

"No harm," she calls out. "Rather, we've rescued her from great peril. Now please, retreat a bit. You are quite overwhelming and I think she's a bit frightened.

Folke struggled with himself, his curiosity to see such magnificent and terrifying creatures vying against his entire culture's hatred of their destructive power, no matter their colour.  So it was that he peered out past the others, catching a glimpse between shoulders and arms.  A low whistle sounded from his pursed lips as the light glinted off their metallic scales.

"It appears you were right, Marissa," he managed in a slightly strangled tone.  "I apologize."

Marissa offers a grin and a wink. "I am a woman, Master Folke. We are always right. Even when we're not!"

Rath started to raise his hand, but he quickly thought better of it. In the face of these two, the blusterous Rath felt quite small. He opened his mouth to answer, but he thought better of it and clamped his jaw shut, letting someone else do the talking. It wasn't his forte. Well, he could talk, sure, and some might even say he talked too much, but he didn't talk pretty, and this would take some pretty talking if they wanted to walk out of here. He wondered if that amulet of his would keep him alive in a block of ice. See, even when he wasn't talking, Rath could just go on and on.

Ehridol was comfortable enough to be making jokes. Of course, she was the Sea Dragon.

Rath edged toward Saliq, offering what little protection he could offer.

Saliq watched the silver wyrms, his eyes wide with awe. For a moment but one thought was running through his mind:

Gods I wish I had been born a dragon rather than a man.

After a moment the awe remained but cool rationality returned. With a grateful smile towards Rath for the warrior's protective instincts Saliq looked from dragon to dragon to Marissa. Though he desperately wanted to answer their question he thought it better to wait till they responded to Marissa.

Rather than retreat, the two dragons move closer, so close you can feel the beating of their wings and feel the air from there breathe as they talk,

The smaller of the two almost smiles at Marissa's comment, but the larger stays threatening.

"By what right do you claim protector status of a great dragon?"

Marissa's smile did not fade, but her eyes grew stern as she replied, "By my own right, Sirrah. Or, if you prefer, by the child's. You see her here cradled in my arms, do you not? And if she cringes with fear, it is because, as I mentioned a moment ago, you are overwhelming in your presence. Now, please, retreat just a bit so that she can come to know you both as friends."

Inas relaxes his bow.  Not that anything he does will matter at this point.  It's in Marissa's hands (quite literally) now.

The larger dragon looks as if he might explode, but the smaller one moves closer to him, "Do not be rash, they do not understand the rules dragons live by.  She is brave, which is a worthy trait for a protector".

Turning towards the party, "When a grand dragon is born, those closely attuned to it feel it, and it falls to us to raise it, for they are only born when their sire dies.  Without instructions on the care of the young, it falls to another, and we are that.  The baby does not choose, it is too young to know, even if its very smart and very pretty".

Rath tried to get Folke’s attention. He mouthed the word scroll repeatedly.

Saliq looked like he was practically biting his tongue in impatience at not speaking. He shot a grateful look at Rath.

Finally Folke noticed Rath's charades and saw the wisdom of his urgings.  Though they might not find Marissa a being that deserved full respect, surely they would honour the words of one of their own.  He slipped a hand into his pack, found the papery edges of the parchment and then forced himself forward to converse with the dragons.

Converse with dragons.  Plural.  This is insane!

Nonetheless, there was no backing out now that he had stepped to the fore and drawn their attention.  He began speaking, his words unintelligible but reminiscent of the short conversation he'd had with the Sigurdsdottir in the city.  He sounded slightly more practiced than before but still voiced the words quite deliberately, as though fearful to make a mistake.  As he spoke he pulled forth the scroll and read a few lines from it, before turning it to face the dragons for their inspection.

Folke stopped then, waiting as calmly as he could while faced with two enormous, hovering dragons peering intently at him.  He hoped they would respond favourably.

Rath tried to stand casually. He eyed the dragons, gauging their response.

The dragons eyes narrow as they stare at the scroll,  at last the smaller one lowers her head a bit, the larger speaks,

"A sad but noble end for great Gyrrallyss.  Folke Vanirhalvt, long thought to be dead among the men and women of the North, who died seeking a dread dragon, and has instead come back with a live one.  It is a story fit for a bard.  Forgive us for doubting, truly you are temporary guardians of the young dragon.  The scroll mentions Astrallyss has been born with a threat upon her, and that she is to be in your care until that threat is eliminated.  The Morde Witch no less, and she is no small problem.  Once she is dead, bring Astrallyss back to this place and we will teach her in the ways of dragons.  After that, she will choose where to go, and what to do with her life, in these chambers when you return her safely, you find half of Grrallyss' horde, the rest of it will go with her".

At this point the smaller adult silver dragon makes a high pitched whistling sound, a note of such purity, it is like nothing you've ever heard before.   Like a moth to a flame Astral flies from Marissa's shoulder and lands on the dragons nose.  The larger one noses her too, nearly so large you worry she'll be squashed but moments later she flies back to her chosen human perch.

The larger dragon, nods "Take care of her, Xayrgaryss will be watching for your return". With that it turns and flies up into the sky.

The smaller dragon comes close, "I am Dinnyrth, Lady of the Skies.   When you return, and I feel you will, the caverns here are safe but do not enter the passages beyond.  They are cursed, known as the passages of Woe and Sorrow.  Take care of them".  She says this last to the wee dragon, and she too flies up and away towards the North.

"My pseudonym takes on new meaning, it seems," Marissa notes quietly, stroking the now returned young dragon beneath her chin. "Did you enjoy visiting with your cousins?" she asks.

Saliq looks away from the North, having followed the two dragons until he could no longer see them with the naked eye. "We best get moving back to Stormhaven. The Guild might be able to help us with our grey hairs."

The illusionist smiles ruefully at Astrel. "Not something you at least have to worry about my lady." He stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Are you hungry? We might need to hunt or set snares..."

Astral giggles at Marissa's comment, and chin rub "They are big, aren't they, will I get that big?".

At the mention of food, Astral hops over to Saliq's shoulder, "You, would seek out food for me?  What do you have?  You seem like the other one, you weave magic, have the same tone of voice, you are skinny though and far more handsome, why would you help me and he only have cruel words to me?"

Saliq looks a little flushed at the tiny dragon's compliments (sort of). He looks at Astral (in so much as he can without dislodging her.)

"Alas your tormentor is an evil wizard from my homeland. He is a villain, as some men are, but I am a friend my lady. It is true I use magic too but of a different kind - I weave illusions."

He pauses, a little embarrassed. "As for why I would help you, well partly because it is the right thing to protect an innocent but partly because... well I have long dreamed of meeting your kind. It is a honour my lady."

Rath was breathing easier with the pair of large dragons gone. But he joined Saliq in watching the creatures dwindle into the distance, and one might almost notice he was almost smiling.

He clapped Folke on the shoulder, very carefully (in case he still had the strength of a giant). "Well read, Vanirhavlt. The dragons know you by name. That's ... well, I imagine that's gotta be ... disconcerting?" Rath gave his friend a smirk, to let him know it was all in fun.

But he turned serious. "Okay, Musfara. This nemesis of yours. I guess we can expect some kinda payback?" He eyed the skies. "Let's get moving. As fast as our old legs will carry us. Rose is not going to be happy."

"You will become a great Dame of the Sky, lass," Marissa answers, then stares bemused as the little dragon alights upon Saliq. The dragonling is all energy and leaps and bounds, while she, sadly, is feeling her age...

The party of heroes carefully follows the slick cliff-side trail up and away from the falls.  Soon back on firm ground, surrounded by trees.  The walk up is far more difficult than it was coming down as several members of the party feel it most heavily in their lungs and the burn in their older legs.

For several hours Inas leads the group back through deer trails, mercifully the trail is mostly heading slightly down.

Astral flits from person to person, asking an endless list of questions.  She has all the curiosity of a small child, while at the same an daunting intelligence.  She apparently was born fluent in a dozen languages, while at the same time, having a childlike innocence of how things work in the world about her.  She asks about your families, what you do, what you are good at, if you are married, have children, where you got that scar, just about anything.  And she implores Saliq to show her some illusions, for Folke to sing a song and play a tune, for Inas to tell her about this plant, that tree, for Marissa to tell her tales of the sea and how to steer a ship, and Rath to tell her about all the religious tokens he wears and what it feels like to heal someone, and who is Rose?   It good that she flies from person to person, for cute as she is, she is also somewhat exhausting.  When she finally settles behind Marissa's hair and goes to sleep, everyone, even grim Inas, can't help but smiling.

As night falls, the party sets up camps and takes turns on watch.  Sleep comes easy under a clear cool sky.   In the morning, everyone feels refreshed.

Several days go by in such peaceful, natural travel, and by the third day, the party begins to be able visually to see their comrades are becoming younger.  Whatever curse of magic of the passages of Woe and Sorrow has, it is not permanent and begins to wear off.  In the ten days it takes to return to the outskirts of Stormhaven, everyone has returned to their normal ages.

ooc: Congratulations, the party has successfully, and with flair and ingenuity completed the rescue of the young dragon.  I will update XP's along with some bonus for excellent role-playing.   I am going to make two assumptions, if I'm wrong, please let me know, but they are, the party will return to Elexi after a stop in Stormhaven, and that the Morde Witch will be their next and likely final, er, next great adventure.   If I don't hear otherwise, I will be opening a new chapter soon towards that end. 

Despite the apparent peacefulness of the travel, Rath remained ready for trouble. So long as Inas could forage and hunt enough to nourish the party, along with Marissa's new ward, he saved his most powerful spells for emergencies. No conjured divine feasts on this leg of the journey!

In the end, of course, Rath's caution was unmerited, but he would have made the same decision again in similar circumstances.

Perhaps surprising his companions, Rath tolerated the hail of questions from young Astrel with no trace of annoyance, and his answers were clear, direct ... and honest. Although the stream of queries gave Rath little time to elaborate on details, the companions -- even Musfara and Eoinsson who had known Rath longest -- learned more about their friend over these days than they had learned in all the months preceding.

Rath had grown up in Stormhaven. His father, an abusive drunk, had made his life a hell, and his mother was ill-equipped to shield Rath, or herself. He grew up in poverty and violence -- both a victim and a perpetrator. On these points, he almost became evasive, but finally and with resolve made his matter-of-fact confessions. I hurt people. Killed people for their money. I regret it, but that don't change it. And the gods know I can't make up for it. I don't think I'm evil. But I know I'm not good. We're not like you, see? People, I mean. Some of us are evil, like that wizard who caged you. Some of us are good -- like Saliq, and Marissa. Most of us don't know what the hell we are.

Saliq is amused if exhausted by Astral's questions and general enthusiasm. He tells her a little of his past and family, of the Empire of the Shining Sands (conversing with her in Zandaran, the poetic language of his homeland if she knows it) and of the adventures the group has been on.

For illusions he turns himself invisible, conjures up a life size image of the dracolisk that had turned him to stone in the abandoned Duergar city and takes the form of variously Ga, Lord  Myron and the Mistress.

"Some would say the illusionist is more limited than the magic-user, and they are right in a way. There a things a mage's apprentice can do that I could never manage... yet I like to think I have a trick or two. Magic is an art little one, as much or more poetry as prose."

As Rath opened up Saliq looked at him with sympathy, not having suspected the inner demons that man had faced before ever taking sword to the real ones.

After Rath's confessions, Marissa offers him a sardonic grin. "Nice that you think me good, Rath, though I'm not really sure what that means. I protect my friends, you protect your friends. I right a wrong, you do the same. I stand for something greater than myself, so do you. We evolve, my friend, at least most of us. Those who don't end up in an early grave."

To Astral, she quickly describes the job of a Helmsman - to describe her duties aboard ship would take far longer than the ten days of their journey back to Stormhaven. Once complete, even she is relieve to take a break from the little ones incessant questions. When Astral comes back to roost in her hair, however, Marissa smiles in contentment.

Inas readily responds to the dragonling's questions, and does so with patience.  That is sufficiently different from his normally dour demeanor to demonstrate he is taken by her.

But when Astrel curls up to sleep, he expresses a concern that he had hidden.

"What of the dragon hunter, Saracutti?  She may still be in Stormhaven, or there again, or between here and there looking for us.  Or the dragon youngling, to be more precise, who she has vowed to exterminate."

"I will die before that happens, my friend," Marissa said simply. "My warning to her made clear my intent."

Folke smiled proudly at Rath's compliment, at least until the part about dragons actually knowing who he was, very specifically knowing who he was, sank in.  A little chill passed through him and his face paled, but good companionship soon caused the moment to pass and he was once again himself.

Their journey homeward was pleasant for the skald and he enjoyed the strengthening of his limbs as much as the rest even if his appearance hadn't betrayed the years quite so heavily.  A benefit of his Vanir heritage, to balance some of the drawbacks he'd experienced over the years.  And so a pleasant journey, but not a quiet one.  Folke was reticent at first, still struggling with the notion of aiding and interacting with a dragon, but eventually the childlike innocence of their new charge broke through his shell.  And once he started talking there was no end.  Such is the gift and curse of a skald, after all!

He learned more about his companions during the unceasing questions flowing from Astral, particular Rath's unfortunate background.  He was proud of Rath for his admissions, and for the tremendous deeds he'd accomplished even with such a difficult start to his life.  Here was one who had clearly risen above.  Folke also paid attention to the conversations Saliq, Inas and Marissa had with the youngling, out of personal and professional interest.  He would need all this information for when he set this saga to music, after all.

For his part, Folke shared his knowledge with Astral, speaking in as many tongues as they both could manage (and brushing up on his Draconic along the way) and offering his observations and tales from the many lands he'd visited and those he'd heard from peers who had traveled even farther.  When the topic of his lengthy imprisonment eventually came to the fore he did not shy away, but spoke in a sombre, reflective voice of his quest to the island and his eventual rescue by those walking alongside him now.

He added to Marissa's fierce reply when Inas brought up the Siggurdsdottir.  "We should expect to meet her or one of the sisterhood again, probably sooner rather than later.  I was thinking it was lucky she wasn't at the falls when the three dragons were gathered together.  If she'd had support that might have been a mighty battle of renown, but for which side?"  He shrugged his uncertainty on the outcome.

"The sooner we get Astral into the swamp the better, I think."

"Your ferocity is admirable, but . . . if you think that with support against the three dragons the Siggurdsdottir would have an epic battle . . . what would she and that support do to us?"

Inas stops, knowing that his stopping will cause the others to do so as well.  "I agree that getting Astral to the swamp sooner is best.  So maybe, we go there now instead of Stormhaven."

OOC: I guess that the answer to the question in Post 266 is "maybe not yet."
This message was last edited by the player at 04:13, Tue 10 July 2018.

"Your words have merit, Inas," Marissa replied. "Despite my vow to protect the lass, there's only so much a handful can do in the face of o'erwhelming odds. And I fear that the Siggurdsdottir would not take on a challenge such as this alone."

"I think a trek back into the swamp is in order."