Everyone
Marpenoth 9

The blackness that filled your senses begins to fade. Feeling returns to your limbs, and you notice that it’s warmer than it was a moment ago. Cool, not cold, without wind but plenty of moisture in the air.

Vision returns and you realize that you’re on your backs, staring up at the sky. What little of it you can, that is, for three massive trees, their leaves a riot of autumn colors, are spread out above you.

Pushing yourselves upright, you glance around. You’re in a forest clearing about two hundred feel long and half that wide. The ground is lumpy with large chunks of partially-buried rock covered over with grass and brush.

As your heads begin to clear, you begin to take in more of your surroundings. The rocks aren’t random boulders; it’s fine marble that was shaped and carved before it was broken and scattered. The clearing isn’t a clearing; it’s a park grown wild, with mounds of dirt and grass that were once benches and patches of surfaced stone that were once walkways.

And it isn’t a forest. This was a city. A ruined city. You can see buildings every way you turn. Most are graceful spires of stone or crystal, but there are a few wooden walls perched atop massive trees.

All of them are damaged. Some have been completely destroyed. One tower close to you has been cleaved down the center, its left side standing with its floors drooping out into nothing over the broken remnants of its right. Across the way a building whose out wall undulates like a frozen wave has lost everything about its first floor; the walls reaching upward like broken teeth. To your left you see the outline of a building, all that’s left of its walls an unnaturally-straight grassy mound no higher than your knee.

Rain and wind and dirt have stained the once-bright stonework, scraped away all but faint touches of paint. Broken windows stare out at you like maddened eyes.

You aren’t alone in the ruin. Corym and Krackor and Kora are clustered together, but there are others spread out around you as well. You are between two large chunks of damaged stone twenty feet apart which, though damaged, still bear a striking resemblance to a pair of hands gripping something as they thrust upward.

You aren’t where you were a few moments before. And a few of you are coming to realize exactly where you are.

((ooc: Corym and Talathel, from your training and background you both recognize this as the fabled, and deadly, city of Myth Drannor.

And we’re off!))
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:35, Tue 08 Jan 2019.

Coming to his senses, shaking his head to clear the ringing, the dullness of foggy vision.
What just happened? The priest intones, hoping his friends hear him as he spots them laying close by.

He stands, wobbles, sees a marble bench, moves to it and sits down. He sees his friends stirring and smiles, only breifly, then confusion crosses his brow.

Taking in his surroundings, realisation.
Karilla, Obar, Harun, are you there?  Corym, Kora, the others, they have gone, what happened?

The sway of his thoughts calming, gathering himself, the young Dwarf proclaimed loudly... Gorm, Fire Eyes, I stand here before you, Krackor Steelfist, Guardian of the Dreams of the Ancients Exploration Company, Barakor of the Bronze Mask. I know not where we are and have lost half of my people. It was beyong my control, I ask for your guidance!

If there was anyone around, they heard him. At least if some creature arrives, he'd know how to deal with them.

Then he spots them, more people, takes in everything about them, how the lay, proximity to others, weapons.

He Smiles, assumes they know as much about how they got there as he does. We mean you no harm, I am Krackor, Guardian, protector. Well met in this strange place, may I know what you call yourself?

Katarn shook his head as it spun from the sudden shift and looked around at the over grown and ruined structures around him. He rolled on his side and looked around. "Well Finder-of-Trails, where have you sent me now?" Katarn said with a dark chuckle. Then he heard the ruckus of a dwarf calling out loudly to Gorm Fire Eyes and he turned towards the other figure as he sat up.

"Katarn of Citadel Adbar, is meself. I was traveling the passes in the Rauvin Mountains when suddenly I found meself layin' on me back here." He put the head of his morningstar on the ground and used handle to lever himself up to standing, while he looked around more where they found themselves. "Any of you lot know where we be now? Sounds like you lot're missin' some friends. If any of ye're hungry I've some food for yer bellys."
This message was last edited by the player at 07:35, Fri 28 Dec 2018.

It doesn’t register at first with the dark haired elf where he is.  It didn’t matter at first.  He’d been caught unaware, and the first thing to do when you’re caught unaware is to set about creating a defense.  Surprise is deadly no matter where you are.

He oriented himself away from Krackor, knowing that it was only a matter of moments before the dwarf indulged himself in his most basic instinct—to bray into the void and alert every danger around them.

He hissed at Kora to follow his lead, but did not pay attention to whether or not she heeded him.  His human apprentice decided for herself what of his counsel was worth following.



Corym cringed.  Foreknowledge that a thing is about to happen still doesn’t prepare you for the terror of its actual occurrence.  He squeezed the stone he hid behind in frustration.  Marble?



Teleportation or gate. Gate, definitely a gate.  What city?  A ruined city.  With a forest.  Towers.

Ascalhorn?



Myth. Drannor.  On the one hand, Myth Drannor was a dream.  A limitless supply of ancient wisdom, knowledge, and Art to be reclaimed for the use of the People. There was no better place for his work.  This was what his father had lived for.  But also, it was a nightmare.  A demon infested hellscape nightmare with a fine sprinkling of the undead and magical mutants.



Two dwarf priests!?! The Trickster must be rolling.

“Please stop.  Both of you.  Please. We need to get out of sight, now.  We are in the very heart of peril.” Corym spoke emphatically but quietly.  He does not reveal himself, but does begin looking for a sheltered place for them to regroup.

Talathel rose and took in his surroundings. His face fills with dread, and he whispers in elven "Forgive me grandfather, for I am in the one place I promised never to go."

Looking to the others he sizes them up quickly, and determines his best chance is to assist these fellow travelers. "We are in the city of Myth Drannor. We must find cover quickly, for this place is most deadly. I am Talathel Eoleth, from the Deeping Dale, and I know the Cormanthor well, but I have never been to this dreadful place. I can find us places to hide as we slowly retreat from this place." he says in a low voice to them. Talathel's voice is unusually gruff for an elf, and he has the look of someone used to the wild.

Taking in his surroundings, listening to his Captain, Krackor silenced himself and searched, searched for danger, for exits, for friends, for allies.

Swinging his Crossbow and loading it, he checked himself out, walking the area, helping others stand. Myth Drannor! He hadn't heard of that place but had heard stories of Citadel Adbar and Cormanthor, never imagining to visit either. Corym was worried and that made his senses scream to attention.

Thank you all. I'm ready

Thankfully there were not three dwarf priests here.

Someone that knows the local terrain.  Excellent.

"Cormiira! Lead on, Talathel.  I am Corym Ildroun of Evereska. These are your woods, we are in your hands!"

Corym peeks around the corner, still not fully revealing himself.

Dorian barely stirred as he came fully awake and took in his new and unknown situation.  He shifted his head a fraction to observe the others as they also took in their environment.

When Krakor brayed out his plea Dorian nearly jumped out of his skin.  The Elf scrambled to nearby cover and disappeared behind some rubble "You will bring unwanted eyes down upon us, Noisy One." he hissed.

"What is this place and what are we doing here?" he demanded in a voice that carried barely ten yards.

The skittishness of the other people in the clearing spooked Katarn as well and he unslung his shield, looking warily around for threats. "Myth Drannor eh? Sure'n I've heard of it. Never thought to be here meself, too far from me charges. Though the Finder-of-Trails does have a sense of humor on occasion." Katarn said to no one in particular as he circled.

He muttered under his breath, "Rhadav," and suddenly disappeared from view to those in the clearning at least.  The tread of Katarn's boots on the ground could still be discerned, but he was now no where in sight.

From off to the right of where he'd be previously his voice comes, "so... what are we hidin' from then? Seems peaceful here ta me."

Kora groaned as she slowly pushed herself to her knees. Then her eyes flew open. "Lexi!" Her head twists around frantically. "Lexanna!"

Then what Corym is saying penetrates her muddled thoughts and she immediately drops into a crouch. Grabbing the massive two handed sword that had fallen to the ground next to her, she draws it and move to stand with her back to Corym. "Myth Drannor! This is incredible!" she says quietly. A moment later she adds, "As long as we don't all die horribly."

Krackor remembered well his lessons, the one springing to mind right now was about distraction and unknowing the noises that brought them here in the first place.

Hush, just keep the talking quiet. If anyone is around to hear me, they would have heard our arrival anyway.

Taking note of everyone, their positions, the armour and weapons they had, the Dwarven Priest had to agree The Finder of Trails does indeed have a sense of humour to place us here.

Corym was relieved to have everyone heed his warning so swiftly, and to have his warning reiterated by others knowledgeable in the subject.

He rallied to Kora and Krackor and began to shepherd them toward Talathel. Scanning quickly, he looked for Lexi, Obar, Karilla, and Harun. Seeing none, and knowing that hopes and flights of fancy could be the end of you here, he abandoned all thought of them.  Lexanna is an ardent survivor of grim circumstances, and Karilla was my partner in the drow caverns--stout of heart.  It might not even be possible to kill Obar. They would be more than capable to the task set before them, and worrying about them would not reduce his own problems.

Now for the first time Corym steps into full view.

Corym has the alabaster skin and blue-black hair of true bred moon-elf heritage, but his features are less refined.  Harder, sharper, more wild.  A face and build more like—a wild elf?  He wears no armor at all.  His clothing fits him well and is closely formed to his body, though it lacks any decoration or embellishment. Black leggings, a dark shirt, black close fitting leather gauntlets with felines embroidered on the back. From his shoulders to his knees is a mesh of blackened leather straps and ties to which is bound a number of tools.  Certainly there are thief tools, but others seems to be more specialized.  Among their number are a pair of wands, a short sword, and an encased short bow and quiver.  As he moves you can see that none of the tools dangle or sway.  All are secured to his person, all easily within reach.  There are no unintentional sounds.

All-in-all he has the hodge-podge look of a seasoned adventurer whose acquisitions have come from decades of happenstance, but they are bound together into a system of such cunning and mechanical design that you might think a gnome had engineered it.

Myth Drannor for 500 years was the height of civilization.  Not elf civilization—civilization.  It was more cosmopolitan by far than Waterdeep, more enlightened than Silverymoon, more densely magical than any place north of Halruaa, and more.  Clans of dwarves, houses of elves,  families of gnomes, and tribes of humans—all lived in Myth Drannor by the grace of the Coronal and blended their arts and efforts in harmony.  No finer forging, stonework, artistry has every been accomplished.  Though you may not know it, you have lived your whole life in a Dark Age of the world.  Most of what had been learned and accomplished has been lost.  The city was razed by two different armies from two different hells over the course of a 700 hundred years. The wards of the city bind them here still, and the two forces fight one another from ruin to ruin and we are in the middle!  There is no more dangerous place in all the Realms. Oft have I dreamed of it, but we must seek safety, we must flee, and not return until we are ready!

Telathel, you know this place? May sun, moon, and stars smile on you if you do!
This message was last edited by the player at 13:10, Sat 29 Dec 2018.

Updated HP and AC in Bio

His boot tread audible as he moved over to join Corym and his two companions, Katarn listened in silence to his story of the place they now found themselves. A disembodied voice sounded, "well I heard tale of the dangers of Myth Drannor, but nothing specific. That does indeed sound dire." Voice angled in a different direction, he said toward Talathel "Talathel is it? If you know the way, which direction is the fastest way out? I can point us in the right direction if nothing else."

"Braegran will have a field day when I tell him about this... step through an accidental portal, end up in the deadliest place in Faerun..." Katarn muttered under his breath.

Seeing that there appeared to be no immediate danger Dorian spoke "Myth Drannor you say?  But how?  I was more than 500 miles from here on the other side of Anauroch."

Dorian paused "Perhaps we all share some common link?  Slept on a Fairy Ring?  Angered the wrong Archmage?"

"I am Dorian, if you are good folk, I am at your service." as he spoke he casually took inventory of his belongings to make sure he was whole.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:15, Sat 29 Dec 2018.

Standing there, waiting for a direction to go, be decked in plate mail armour, the small bronze shield on the chain at his chest present on his black oval shield between the two sets of eyes, those at the bottom upsidedown. His hair showing below his open helmet frames the cheery expession of the hairless face unhindered.

Slim but tall, the young Dwarf cuts an imposing figure standing straight, crossbow at the ready. His eyes darting around, even up and down, his position shifting slightly with each thing noticed.

I await your move Corym.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:04, Sun 30 Dec 2018.

"I've never actually been here, exactly. I've explored much of Comanthor Forest, but not this specific place. My grandfather lived here, however, so I might be able to find out where we are in the city. The best thing to do would be find some cover and try to slowly exit. Whatever magics were used to bring us here, might be detectable by the hell spawn that still infest this place."

Talathel looks for a building he thinks might make a good place to hide, or if he can figure out where they are in the city, perhaps an exit.

“We were in the basement of a blasted tower we’d excavated west of Secomber. There was some manner of deteriorating Gate that I tried to circumvent. Obviously that didn’t quite work out.”

To Krackor and Talathel:

I’ll climb one of these towers and try to get a good vantage and see where we are. My first advice would be to head South. The Southern Dales have made farther inroads into the forest and they’ll be be nearer by. But if we’re on the North edge, it may help to exit as quickly as possible, though that’ll mean a longer circumnavigation through the forest and possible encounters with the Zhentarim or the Red Plumes of Hillsfar.

In reply to Corym Ildroun (msg # 19):

Reaching out to Corym as he has done many times before, one Dwarven hand on bronze shield, the other on Elven shoulder. Krackor mutters words to his god.

casted Blessed Watchfulness. Only surprised on a 1 and other benefits.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:20, Sun 30 Dec 2018.

Oh, Sirenya thinks, waiting for the spinning feeling to fade, I think I should have stopped drinking sooner. Except, whatever was in that crystal decanter had tasted so good!

Sniffing the air and realizing that it smelled a bit like rain was imminent, she cracked one eye open to see if she was in danger of getting wet. Then opened the other eye, peering up at the colorful leaves of the trees overhead. There was something wrong with that view, but at the moment, she couldn't figure out what.

Then she heard people talking, and remembered that it had been someone bellowing loudly that had wakened her up. Since she'd left Scornubel alone, that was likely a bad thing, so she half-closed her eyes again and lay still to listen a bit.

Dwarves, at least two of them, and at least one of them favored a god she knew was adverse to evil behavior. That was promising. Elves, too; she recognized that lilt in the way they spoke. Hearing someone say "Myth Drannor" though, that was enough to pop her eyes open once more, this time turning her head to look around in alarm. It took a moment, but she did indeed detect evidence of ruins overgrown.

"Oh, not good," she whispered. She'd heard of Myth Drannor. Full of fabulous, ancient magic, the tales said -- and a horrible multitude of ways to die, too! Is that really where I am?

Scrambling to her feet, she discovered the beautiful crystal decanter was still in her hand, sloshing against the stopper, and stopped to give it a closer look. Hey! she noted with a delighted smile, there's still at least half the bottle left!

Hearing the others talking about the southern Dales and Zhentarim recalled her attention to them, and that she might be in a very dangerous place. A couple of bushes had effectively concealed her, as small as she was, but now that she was standing up she could see a group of elves and dwarves and a human woman not too far away.

"Wait, wait!" she called, hurrying forward. "I want to go with you!"

Lord Protector of the Dreams of the Ancients Exploration Company knew exactly what to do.  Test for enemies then collect and protect those around him. Nothing was he mire sure of at this precise moment.

Corym, I shall watch over these as you climb.

Hearing the words, slightly panicked from the newly risen.  Come quick and stay watchful. Those with good hearing, just listen and see.

He already knew that this new one had been around, he heard the leaves moving and the heavy breathing of someone with alcohol induced sleep.

Talathel you say, good. Everyone check your kit quickly to make sure you didn't lose much when you were moved to hear, us three lost our mounts and the equipment on them.

Corym nearly laughed, and would have if he were not in the pit of doom. "Come, little one, we'll leave none behind in this place."  The calculating elf, paused and then qualified, "None while they yet live and hope endures." 

Corym thought a moment longer, then continued. "I'm about to scale that tower, right there, to get a better vantage point to help guide us out of this place.  I'll be putting myself at considerable risk for all of us.  I'm the Captain for our company, and though you're not of us, you're all with us, and I'll set down the orders of the day.  There are any number of hellish horrors who can fly and who roost in high places.  Keep watch, and if I seem lost, leave. Utilize my demise as a distraction, and go. Move south, and continue to guard one another.  Don't risk every neck to save one, especially when one might save all.  Talathel seems to have woodcraft--he seems a good one to follow here in my absence."

"Before I depart--let's inventory our skills."  Looking Dorian up and down, and surmising that he is an Evereskan like himself.  He first looks to Kora and Krackor, "My apologies for being less than completely honest previously.  You know that I am a scout and wizard, but Dorian and maybe Talathel will know me better.  I am a Knave of the Missing Page, dedicated in the service of Erevan Ilesere to the recovery of lost elven treasures, tools, and spells for the betterment of the well being of our people."  Turning back to Kora and Krackor, "In human lands and among humans my affiliation is secretive, but now we are in an Elven forest and an Elven Ruin, and among the Elves themselves, and on the brink of destruction.  The time for secrecy is no more."  He bows apologetically,  "This makes me especially skilled at seeing magic and bypassing magical barriers and traps.  IF the gate trap in Wyrmhumbler Tower had not been so frayed, my suppression of it would have undoubtedly succeeded. I am also the Captain of the Dreams of the Ancients Exploration Company.  I am extensively trained in architecture, engineering, and stone masonry--skills very useful in fallen keeps, castles, and cities."