Beyond the Beholder-Hole

Quilro and DonBrapp discuss the logistics of extricating all of the loot from the elven city.
DonBrapp admires the fake magical summoning circle he has crafted in the lair of the beholder to the west.  He casts an enchantment to make it appear magic.

In order to test their ability to hear through the hewn rock doors, Fyrnlocke and Quilro go into the far western room, and close the door behind them.  The craftmanship of the door is almost totally concealed.

Stomping around, the dwarf and half-orc ham it up saying “It must suck being a demon with such a small demon penis.”

“I wonder if these are the guys that destroyed D’Noush.”

“I wish I knew who I was facing, but I am very dumb!”

“Looks like the teleported straight out of here!”

Both thieves look at each other, hearing the muffled activity through the door.
While stomping around Kailute kicks over the debris and rubble to gather up what minor coin is to be found within the lair.

DonBrapp fashions a note to leave behind while they wait to taunt any demonic investigators.

After several hours of waiting, the entire crypt trembles with an impact from up above.  Dust shakes from the walls, and even the sarcophagus grinds ever so slightly from the concussive force up above.

This repeats with repeated intensity, as if getting closer to the area directly above.  Soon, the acrid smell of sulphur and burning flesh begins to waft among the already present smell of decay and must.

DonBrapp raises an eyebrow but is confident the structure below ground remains solid.

After what feels like eternity but is probably only a half an hour the faint yelling of voices can be heard slightly, coming from the area of the entrance.  While it is impossible to make out the words, they do not have the depth or resonance of the demons from before.

Quilro creeps back toward the opening of the subterranean space to get a better listen.  The anxious yelling of humanoids appear to be glowing closer to the entrance.  Wielding his ring the elf releases a magical scrying “eye” that floats up out of the hole and provides him a bird’s eye view of the dell surrounding the lair.

There appear to be sixteen warriors arrayed in a semi-circle to the east slowly conducting a fighting withdrawal into the dell within a couple hundred feet of the entrance.

The sounds of fireball and battle reverberate.  Two of the humanoids bear the dusky skin of the drow;  one warrior dual wielding short swords and one dread priestess holding a mace with razor sharp spiders legs protruding from the head of the weapon.

A human cleric of Bane is identifiable within the group, and the entirety of the line have the marks of combat and scorching of magical fire.

Retreating back to the area, Quilro relates everything he has observed.  The sounds of battle grow louder and closer.

“OVER HERE!  THERE’S AN ENTRANCE!”

Quilro does what he can to obscure any obvious tracks, and inserts a wire to indicate any movement within the door mechanism.

After about fifteen minutes of tense waiting, the sounds of two human warriors can be heard in the passageway, briefly looking left and right, before advancing with a “ROOMS TO LEFT AND RIGHT!  MOVING FORWARD!  NOTHING YET!”
There is a large scream;  “GET THE BASTARDS!”

The sounds of battle recede for a while, replaced by some heavy breathing and farther shouting in a language not understood.  Further magical release can be heard reverberating through the spaces to the east.

“I’d like to kill the drow.”  Quilro states quietly.

“I’d like to kill the Zhents.” Kailute nods.

Fyrnlocke readies his longsword, shaking his head.

Cocking his ear to the door, Quilro can hear several humanoids talking quiet and moaning in the room beyond.  Casting ESP he feels the desperate thoughts of the wounded fighters next door;  pain.  A hovel apartment in the rain streaked streets of Zhentil Keep.  One realizes his sword arm is too smashed to ever wield a weapon again.  Yet another is just catatonic with the recent fear of encountering a demon.

Raising his foot, the elf gives a sidelong smile to the half-orc before kicking the door open while speaking the initiating words of a sleep spell.

Beyond the door four wounded fighters are laid out, and immediately put to sleep.  Beyond them to the west a group of drow and Zhent clad humans are conferring in the main access chamber.

Quilro releases a lightning bolt straight down the hallway, and the wounded sleeping men jerk with electrical energy;  one of the drow appears to magically absorb the blow while the senior Zhent is wounded.

Pumping his stubby legs, DonBrapp runs forward, drops to one knee and launches another lightning bolt from Buzzkiller straight through the group again, filling the spaces with the acrid smell of electrical energy and burning flesh.

Shaking off the attack, the Zhent leads the remaining two drow and conscious fighters in an attempt to fight back the party that surprised them from inside the hellhound kennel.

Immediately, everything to the west of the makeshift infirmary goes pitch black with magical darkness.
Producing a scroll from his belt the elf rips off a magical web in the direct center of the access tunnel, and the sounds of angry cursing can be heard from within the magical darkness.

DonBrapp begins to sing the holy praise of Vergadain in prayer which elicits “I HEAR THE SOUND OF DWARF-SONG TO THE WEST!  FORWARD!”

A lightning bolt rips west down the hall shaking the now dead bodies along the northern wall, bouncing back to Fyrnlocke and Kailute from the rear.

A well-muscled human and lithe dark elf wielding two short swords.  Quilro and DonBrapp split to the sides to allow Kailute to advance.

“Stay down, you may survive this.” The half-orc says to the remaining wounded on the southern portion of the wall.

Taking two slicing blows with the axe, the drow warrior steps back and then retaliates with two short sword thrusts.  The human lands an overhead glancing swing on the half orc while one of the wounded humans thrusts a dagger at DonBrapp for a minor stab.

Double swings from Kailute open wicked wounds on the drow and damage his armor.  Quilro and DonBrapp advance forward, and the elf seals the room with a scroll of force that secures the space.

“Spellcasters!” come some cries from the east.

DonBrapp freezes the dark elf with an invocation from his holy symbol.

The Zhent lands a longsword strike on the barbarian while the wounded human on the wall continues to poke at the dwarf with his off-hand dagger.

Quilro shouts “BOW!” to the fighter as a magical suggestion, and the human warrior brings his sword up in salute as Kailute whiffs with his swing.

Leaning into his swing, DonBrapp catches the human just under the chin popping his head from his neck and sending it to the northern wall where it impacts the wall over Quilro’s shoulder with the sound of a wet coconut before rolling down upon one of the corpses below.

“That’s how it’s done, orc.”  The cleric states flatly.

The ground shakes again, and Fyrnlocke creeps around to slit the throat of the remaining wounded held human on the southern wall.

Quilro likewise cuts the throat of the drow with the onyx blade, filling him with a rush of serene accomplishment.
Kailute bonks the remaining combatant on the head, crushing several vertebrae and ending his life.

The party quickly shares healing and conducting hasty checks of the accumulated bodies.  45pp, 15 purple discs similar to amber, two potions in flat black steel vial, and weapons from the drow and Zhent.  Quilro grabs the Zhent Captain’s full wineskin.  A silver wedding band and a spider ring are pulled from the corpses as well.

To the east, the sound of battle and slaughter continues loudly in the chamber beyond.

Quilro casts a spell to displace and penetrate a column of earth about 20’ above.  Turning invisible and employing a magical jump spell.  One of the demons has been slain, but a large group of kobold skeletons and slime covered minor demons are assaulting the entrance to the beholder lair about 30’ to the west.

DonBrapp casts silence on his holy symbol and follows the elf up the rope.

Fyrnlocke begins crawling northeast attempting to be as quiet and stealthy as possible.

Huddling within the 15’ circle of silence the group moves as stealthily as possible northward.  The rubbled city varies between beautiful remnants of architecture and total overgrown rubble.  Moving through a copse of trees the group finds themselves observing and open area along the eastern shore of the river.

Two humans appear to be moving along the river south of a monumental dwarven crafted bridge.  One is in a green cloak and is keeping a bow at the ready, while another is wrapped in pink and golden robes. Their backs are turned as they are moving north away from the party.

Quilro signals with a bird signal, and the humans freeze.  Turning, the one with the bow is a female with bright red hair.  The Lathanderite turns deliberately and they watch the elf warily as he approaches.  Quilro keeps his hands elevated while indicating there are more people behind him.

Once within vocal range he asks “What brings you to this dark and poisoned land?”

“Well met in the city of Myth Drannor.”  The female responds.

Asked about their business, she reponds “We serve a higher purpose.  Attempting to purge the infernal filth brings us the blessings of both Corellon and Lathander.”

At Quilro’s mention of the Feyguard the female lowers her bow from the ready.

Introducing themselves as Kaynox and Dirwin, the group scoots from the treeline.  The groups discuss the activity to the southwest quickly and then relocate within the treeline to the north.  The group has been tracking a large group of Zhents that entered the city.  The decision is made to return back to the Eldarym Manor where a modicum of safety.

“You stand in the presence of Quilroneth Eldarym, who’s family abode is nearby!”  The dwarf chortles, and Fyrnlocke leads the way back to the north, beyond the dwarven bridge toward the walls surrounding the courtyard in front of the elfhold.

The group enters the manor and gathers in the upper chamber with Delnoran.  The Lathanderite provides magical healing to the female, and they are duly impressed with Kailutes explanation of their recent adventures.  Once tales are swapped, both humans retire to sleep.

Delnoran confirms that with the proper study, the portal could be used to travel anywhere.  Quilro presses to see if the answers can be found within the elfhold and it is reiterated that it will take serious study to master command of the portals.

That evening, DonBrapp spends hours lecturing Kailute on the most effective way to relocate from Myth Drannor is to quaff the potions of gaseous form, gathering all the loot they can carry.

“Is this the manner in which you depart your ancestral home?”  Delnoran implores.

“Learn as much as you can about your elfblade and return to purge this home of its filth.  Any elven sages should be able to assist you.  Correllon’s blessings upon you all.”

Upon waking Quilro authorizes the humans use the manor for refuge as long as they wander the elven city.
DonBrapp provides the barbarian restorative healing, and Dirwin also assists.

The group quaffs the potions and chokes down the disgusting red ichor.  Quilro gathers them up in vials, places them into a pouch and takes to flight in the form of an eagle.  Soaring above the mix of beauty and destruction has a melancholy view.  After several hours to the north, Quilro circles above the village of Ororiil before sinking to the center of the village and returning to elven form.

The Feyguard return, and the other party members emerge from the shagging wagon.  They relay the observation of nearly 120 Zhents accompanied with by drow heading into the city.

The group is rewarded with a golden disc that will summon Feyguard if within range, and a celebration is held by Faeranal to rejoice in the return of the main party members, and in remembrance of those who did not return.