6 Hammer - Noon

The group has made camp in the large approach opening of the rift that leads to the cleared entrance to Hillsafar Hall.  The heroes address their spells, wounds, and size up the newcomer Draxos before returning to the rift to clear the dwarfhold.

DonBrapp peers toward the sky, considering the relationships between the planes and the celestial bodies above the horizons.

After the desultory retreat of the Frost Giants, Durnkin and Fredegast present DonBrapp a hastily compiled series of oversized vellum scrolls.

“It’s a desecration, by Moradin.  But the icy ones were clearly the beneficiaries of the wryms as it it pertains to coin.  Looks like only surface level treasures were taken from the Hall.

The dwarf directs Milan to prioritize harvesting the white dragon scales, revealing his fervent desire for a suit of armor as elegant as functional in its magical properties.

Durnkin relays the hall was assaulted by a group of other planar beings assisted by duergar.

“The gray ones infect everything.”

The forgemaster assesses there may be less than a hundred of the Oriothar remaining below, dead or alive.  The remaining 400 have fled or regrouped beyond or below the Galena mountains.

“Well, then it shan’t be immediately you can begin firing my armor then, is it clansmen?”
Durnkin furrows his brow in remonstrative surprise at the cleric’s first inquiry.

Quilro explains to Petra the grim and dank reality of dwarven underground lairs, and tasks her with mapping.

“The Oriothar forges have been cold for months, Coinfather!  The lava flows that heat them sealed by frozen undercreatures!  It is unclear to me what you may learn in the walls of a city, but one does not and cannot just stroll into a dwarven smithery and light a fire as if it were fit to roast mutton!”  He states flatly but with exasperation.
“I owe you my freedom, and with Moradin’s blessing perhaps the whole clan will chant your praise from their holdwalls soon, but you should probably set your expectations lower than Mount Waterdeep!”

DonBrapp grumbles his agreement and the group makes deliberate plans.  Quilro mutters something about the beliefs of commerce minded deities.

Fredegast suggests his group scout out the valley below for lower entrances to Hillsafar and collect intelligence on activities in the area.  It is agreed the halflings will patrol for five days and keep their eyes peeled for dwarven bands to reconstitute.
Vexxed by the apparent timeline to get the forges burning, DonBrapp turns to the Heroes and discusses the newcomer Draxos.

“What’s with these fecking Harpers sending someone to investigate US?”  Fyrnlocke retorts to the suggestion they incorporate the ranger into their compact.
“You look like you’ve ranged far;  have you ever seen a greenskin eat a baby?”  he turns to the elven ranger and asks.

“I have.”  Draxos replies grimly, and for a moment there is shocked silence followed by unanimous outcry.

DonBrapp deescalates the situation and focuses the group on the task in Hillsafar, as Quilro jibes Fyrnlocke mercilessly.

The rift slopes gently into the cleared chamber, revealing a 20x20’ chamber that empties to the north.  Two 12’ statues of dwarven warriors flank the northern opening.  The entire area is a mix of copper brown marble flecked with streaks of green and crimson bloodstone.  All of the masonry is of superior craftsmanship.  The entire party is struck by how bone chillingly cold it is in the chamber;  even moreso than the rift above but utterly lacking in moisture.

The dry cold air is a mixture of sharp frost with a faint hint of coppery blood.  Draxos sniffs the air, but is only able to detect a mix of humanoid and possibly troll.
The passageway narrows to 10’ wide to the north before opening into long corridor disappearing 70’ to the north.

Durnkin nods and steps forward into the passage leading north.  He stops and signals toward the ground.  Kailute inspects the surface of the floor, and it chills the barbarian to the cold with preternatural energy.  A corrupted dwarf like rune flashes before blasting Kailute in the upper body with a release of magical frost energy.

“Not an oriothar rune.  Not dwarven either.”  He says ensuring the half-orc isn’t injured before advancing 15’ where the passageway widens.

The hallway is wide and flanked by a further series of dwarven statues lining the walls.  Between the sconces magical flame flickers from the ornate sconces carved full stone from the walls.  Shadows dance in the darkness, and guttural whispers in an unrecognizable tongue seem to float from beyond.

Once polished flagstones are now covered in icy debris, and in spots pools of blood remain.  Ornamental tables are smashed, and elaborate mosaics of ore, gems, and minerals depicting the arrival of the dwarves in the mountains along the walls have been scorched with ice burns, or violently removed.  It is evident that a final battle took place in this hallway where the defenders made their last stand from something attacking from the north.

The corpse of a duergar lies dessicated on the floor and the passageway is littered with the detritus of battle.
Fyrnlocke lifts the gem of true seeing to his eye and advances cautiously.

Kailute hears something scurrying into the shadows to the north. Quilro collects the permanent lightstone and unsheaths the lantern to illuminate the hall.  Broken furniture and statues line the hall.  There is no identifiable source of the noise.

Fyrnlocke points out another rune trap in the space between two destroyed tables, apparently set to channel movement over the danger area.

Kailute and Draxos begin to move the debris to allow for movement without triggering the trap and Fyrnlocke signals the party to stop.

DonBrapp attempts to pull Rahadin’s bone from his back but his hand recoils from a powerful cold shock.  The cold generated from the bone is only precluded from wounding the dwarf by the magical nature of his armor and equipment.  The cleric inherently recognizes again there is interplanar energy flowing through the area.

Durnkin is momentarily paused in mournful reflection at the desecration of the ceremonial entrance hall.

“Get yer head in the task, Durnkin.”  DonBrapp asserts, pointing toward the threat Fyrnlocke has signaled.  Moved by his concern and understanding the forgemaster slaps the mace in his palm and advances with quiet fury.

Fyrnlocke nods toward the north and all hear a quiet scuttering sound.

Quilro follows the other thief crawling over the debris to the west and finds himself between the two statues.  As the passage narrows to the north two plinths made entirely of ice flank the passageway.  Peering forward Quilro detects no sign the objects were dragged but he does notice strange claw marks on the passage floor, as if a multi-legged creature was able to scratch with many legs in the floor.

The elf finds no traps but does locate a secret compartment in one of the statues.  An opening in the boot reveals two hand carved stone scroll cases.  Examining them with the gem Fyrnlocke declares them free of traps.

Durnkin gives a sideways look at DonBrapp’s demand of an inventory and notes the statue is of Delmo the Lifegiver and are likely to be of healing use to the party.  Indeed the two scrolls are of healing powers and magical protection.  The cleric places the newfound scrolls in his pack.

Shuos is squealing with anxiety and Draxos takes a knee to comfort the boar, who lifts his snout to allow the ranger to nuzzle him.

Scanning for additional hidden areas, Fyrnlocke shouts and recoils in pain having looked directly toward one of the ice columns.  He falls to the ground holding his eye.

“It burns, it burns!” he cries holding his head in pain.  His eye is red and swollen shut.

The power of whatever the ice plinth released caused an enormous shiner to the thief but did not impart any wounding damage.

As DonBrapp examines the space between the ice formations two enormous blue gray spiders appear as if out of thin air, flanking the party and aggressively attacking with a gleam in their bulbous eyes.

DonBrapp’s planar rod is alive with energy as Petra is pierced by two attacks from one of the horrid interplanar arachnids.

Kailute is similarly stabbed but avoids the effects of the milky gray venom that causes the Vistani woman to breath heavily.

Draxos releases his arrows in a volley seriously wounding one of the spiders that hisses before it disappears in thin air.

DonBrapp positions himself to strike with his hammer as Fyrnlocke closes to strike with two sword thrusts.  Quilro launches a pulsing attack of magical missiles and the wounded creature also appears to dissolve into mist leaving Kailute to focus his heightened sense of detection on any other attackers.

A fresh pair of phase spiders appears north and south of the party, one almost landing atop Durnkin.

One connects a thrusting attack Kailute while the other lands a strike against the elven ranger.

DonBrapp twirls his hammer before delivering a devastating throw that impacts the head through the arachnid’s thorax and exploding in a gruesome burst of grey ichor.
Quilro releases a lightning bolt with one hand while holding his ring of spell turning in the other, creating a loop of bouncing energy that richochets from the wall and the ring until the spider is shredded by electricity.

Petra is crawling away, breathing heavily as the ranger pummels the other spider with arrows until it phases out again.

Kailute slices off a leg of another before it momentarily disappears.

Fyrnlocke holds his weapon at the ready, eager to swing at any target of opportunity.

Two remaining spiders phase in flanking Quilro, obviously wounded and wary.  A sharpened proboscis pierces the elf’s armor as he twists and unleashes another lightning bolt, ricocheting off the walls with enormous tearing booms.  The coppery cold air is tinged with ozone as the party collects itself among the devastated corpses of four giant phase spiders.

DonBrapp reluctantly approaches the Vistani mageling and assess her wounds.  She is gasping at shallow breaths and has a large and serious stomach wound.

Muttering he invokes a spell to neutralize poison and minor healing.  She gasps her thanks as the dwarf magically heals her gut wound.

Standing up, Petra takes the ioun stone and smiles thankfully at the dwarf.
The party collects itself and prepares to delve deeper into Hillsafar hall.

DonBrapp executes a backflip out of the way, landing in a three point stance while barking “THAT’S WHY THEY CALL ME THE MAGICAL DWARF!”

Welcome to Hillsafar Hall

Having fought their way through the alerted phase spiders, the heroes find themselves at the end of the ceremonial entrance passage to Hillsafar Hall.  A simple but exquisitely crafted table carved of bloodstone sits between two statues.

Two statues flank the table;  Moradin to the left.  He stands 12’ with both hands folded upon an upturned Warhammer.  He is armored in plate, and both weapon and breastplate are emblazoned with crossed hammers over an anvil.  “Heavy falls the hammer.  Pure flows the ore.” Is inscribed in Dethek runes below.

To the right a noble dwarf is carved with folding hands holding a forge hammer.  Garbed in the leathers of a smith, the statue emits an aura of noble humility. “Delno Oriothar.  Forgemaster First.  Oriotharkin Eternal.”

Durnkin offers the layout of the hall, noting there will be symmetrical passages looping around back toward the center, and along the way defensive ambush positions in order to repel attackers.

“Exactly!  That’s exactly how a dwarf would make it!” Exclaims DonBrapp eagerly. Kailute ponders the approach to liberating the underhome from the gray dwarves.
“Let the thieves lead.  Fyrnlocke, take the gem!”  The human pitches the gem of true seeing back to the dwarf, muttering “Yours to peer;  I’ll not put my eye to that pain again!”

DonBrapp approaches, finger raised toward the human’s eye, calling forth magical healing.

“Get yer fecking finger outta my face, Dwarf!”  Fyrnlocke yells, as the cleric heals his minor wounds.

The gem in his other hand, DonBrapp can detect the item no longer possesses the magical properties it once did.

“You broke it?!?”  The dwarf asks, flipping the item to Quilro.  “It’s broke.” The elf confirms.

Recognizing the ice pillars have some intraplanar energy, the dwarf inspects the pillar of ice.  As he approaches his iron rod hums with an energy suggesting the ice is evidence of some intraplanar intrusion to the dwarfhold.  Gritting his teeth through minor damage he collects some of the frozen pillar and stores it in his backpack, the craft and dwoemer of the item barely protecting him from further pain.

As the party creeps further north, they opt to advance westward to the left.  To the east they observe an enormous spiked column fills the passage, linked to the top of the eastern wall by enormous steel chains.  Beneath it, the crushed remains of a grey skinned demi-human is indicated by its legs protruding from below.  An ornate curved dagger lies in front of the sprung trap.

“Unlucky.” Quilro remarks flatly.

The passageway to the west continues 20’ before taking a 90 degree offset south and continues.  The floor is the same bloodstone flecked flagstones, and the walls worked stoned covered with plates of polished marble that rise 25’ to the ceiling.  Arched buttresses mark the ceiling every 10’.

Durnkin indicates the party should hug the southern side of the wall even as Quilro and Fyrnlocke clear the initial approach of traps.

“Why don’t you sprint through with your magical booties?” The barbarian asks the dwarf.
“IF WE HAD A GEM OF TRUE SEEING, PERHAPS I WOULD.” DonBrapp retorts, one eye firmly staring at Fyrnlocke.

At the cleric’s request, Durnkin explains that the artisans of Hillsafar primarily work in mosaics of finely worked stoned and gems.

Advancing deliberately, Quilro detects two pressure sensitive plates among the stones along the floor advancing to the north.

“If only we had a cart.  I KNOW!”  Kailute states, doubling back for a few moments.  The half-orc pulls the decomposing duergard dwarf from under the trap, and heads back to the group.

Rearing back to heave the corpse, he stumbles on the floor and launches the corpse directly into the back of Fyrnlocke’s neck.  With a powerful explosive groan, a 10x10 panel of worked stone is pushed across the passageway with enormous magical force, crushing both the thief and the corpse.

Fyrnlocke picks himself up from the floor, incredulously eyeing the group behind him.
“Oh, I see what a violation it is for me to command the dead, but heaving corpses about is perfectly fine?”  DonBrapp asks nobody in particular.

“Not everything is about you!” Kailute retorts, and the human thief makes his way back, his shoulder hanging limp.

As the group advances northward the temperature drops precipitously, and the dwarf enspells a protection from cold.

The passage turns 90’ back toward the center, cloaked in utter darkness.  The utter cold has an unnatural bite, causing all to feel the moisture under their garments solidify into frost.  The passageway forward, moving back toward the middle appears to be covered in black ice.

Small piles appear to the 10’ opening to the north.

The piles are discarded pieces of clothing and equipment.  Demi human sized bones appear to litter the floor.  The light of a single magical torch provides scant illumination to the passage north.

DonBrapp creeps forward and hears scattered tapping of many chitinous legs moving across an ice covered surface.

“Something up here.  Think it likes to devour children.”  The cleric states flatly.
“Never been this cold in the halls before.”  Durnkin mutters as Quilro is momentarily enveloped in magical protections.

“You must teach this to me, Eelf.”  Petra remarks, and DonBrapp invokes the protections of the coinfather.

Whatever lies east and north makes clacking noises on the floor as it becomes increasingly excited.

Draxos pulls an arrow back in ready peering toward the northern opening in the passageway ahead.

“Draw the beast out!” Shouts DonBrapp.

The ranger leaps across the opening releasing three shots into the northern room.  One of his arrows impacts upon an enormous millipede-like creature;  raised above segmented legs.  Bulbous eyes peer over an enormous maw of teeth flanked by small bat-like wings flanking its head.  Over 20’ long, the creature has white bulbous moles along its back.

Quilro creeps to a corner vantage point and enacts a series of concussive booms as  large spheres of flame erupt into the room beyond.  One of the ice plinths shatters, sending freezing shards shower out of the entrance further enraging the polar worm.  It’s sonic shrieking is almost overwhelming.

Fyrnlocke peers forward before stepping back to change out his sword for a bow.  Rearing up the worm’s head darts out of the passageway, nearly snapping the thief in its mouth.  The chamber fills with oppressive cold.

Impressed with the ranger’s attack, the dwarf builds up a head of speed and slides across the portal while launching his hammer…  but misses the beast entirely.

Kailute chucks an axe at the ice worm, slicing through its armored husk and reaping gray ichor from its wound.

Draxos releases another volley landing two arrow strikes.  The creature recoils, shrieking in pain.

Shuos turns his nose to the air, sniffing toward the east.

Quilro releases a shocking boom of electrical energy toward the ice millipede, but although it recoils the elf notices no marking on the beast from either the fireball or lightning bolt.

The worm leaps forward, sinking its teeth into the elf’s shoulder.  The protective energy flows over both creatures but yet again it appears resistant to magical attack.
“Shoulda tossed yer dagger.” Mutters the dwarf as he moves to a position and launches a hammer strike at the enormous worm, catching it in the body and smashing its carapace.  Kailute releases two axe attacks right behind.

Fyrnlocke attempts to imitate the ranger but misses, and the entire party feels the continued bite of the unnatural cold.

Soft snickers and giggles are heard from the east.  Quilro observes smaller than normal dwarves, with pallid gray skin armed with sharpened mining implements to the east.
Kailute pulls his blade and stands to the side, awaiting a moment to strike.  The creature screams with rage as DonBrapp lands another hammer blow.

Quilro pulls a scroll from  his belt and blasts the eastern corner of the hallway with a sticky web, capturing two duegar fast to the far corner wall.  One of them had been preparing a spell, disrupted by the magical attack.

“The worm!  ATTACK THE WORM!” DonBrapp shouts to the ranger, who leaps off the floor toward the southern wall and lands three arrows that pierce the dying millipede.  One of the arrows catches the monster through the jaw, exiting the back of its serpentine head and the beast collapses to the ground.

Recalling his time in Skullport DonBrapp cocks an ear toward the duergar attempting to hear whatever they may be communicating.

Kaillute runs and puts his shoulder into an upturned table along the northern wall, slamming the table into the webbed gray dwarves at the opposite end.

Another two duegar appear from around the corner, one launching a mining spike against Kailute while the other attempts to free the cleric from the web.
The elf pushes out his arms and volleys several missiles of magical energy;  the duergar recoils but smiles as he absorbs the attack with no damage.

Kailute rips off two axe attacks removing the smile and turns to fury as the duergar down the hall is hit.  Draxos releases two arrows, one of which pins the gray dwarf to the wall straight through the shoulder.  The second goes straight through the nose of the dwarf and he expires shuddering against the cold stones.
Fyrnlocke leaps up and delivers a killing blow through the chest of one of the dwarves with his sword.

Sensing the party has the fight under control, he creeps northward inspecting the remaining ice pillar.  The floor is iced over and covered with equipment, clothing, and the refuse of many corpses.  As the dwarf pokes around to the east, he hears a trollish growl “Arhg!  Methinks they kilt Bessie!”

Draxos finishes another dwarf, and sole remaining duergar lands a glancing blow slightly wounding the barbarian.

DonBrapp sneaks forward, sighting the corpse of an Oriotharkin as well as a troll-manned ballistae pointed directly at him.  While unobserved, he steps on a pressure plate that signals a ‘click’ right before the FWOOM of a large 10’x10’ stone flies out of the northern wall pinning the cleric to the southern edge of the chamber.  His stout armor reduces much of the damage but there is still the painful crunch of muscle and sinew compacted beneath the magical trap.

“DWARFSIE FIND DWARVEN TRAP!” Snickers the blue skinned troll as he works the machinery to reload.
Back in the southern passage Quilro ends the remaining gray dwarf with a devastating blow that slices through the creatures armor like a knife through a warm potato.

The passageway shimmies with the energy of a trap being released somewhere to the north.
Kailute overswings and misses, nearly losing his footing.  Furious, the barbarian smashes the remaining duergar to the wall knocking him senseless.

As Draxos rounds the corner he hears the cackling of a troll “Dwarfsie dead?”
The ranger calls out to the cleric as he eyes the ballistae being reloaded as the dwarf is shimmying himself out of the wall rock trap.  Loosing three arrows, one pierces troll armor just below the heart, while the second arrow pierces his ear.

“Who invades our dwarfhole?!” Cries the other troll, making some sort of signal behind the group.

DonBrapp slithers out from the trap, and a large TWANG sounds from the opposite side of the passageway surprising and catching the ranger in the hip.

Surveying the dead and unconscious duergard Quilro follows Draxos north into the troll served ballistae death chamber.

Fyrnlocke covers the rear and Durnkin binds the senseless gray dwarf.

DonBrapp turns, stands and pulls two large branches from his pack while humming a reverent tone to the coinfather.  Thrown to the ground two large constricting snakes come forth and strike at the trolls.

The trolls shriek in hysteria under snake attack, causing those at the opposite end of the passageway to make confused noises and call out to their brethren.
Draxos showers the eastern trolls with arrows, one of whom is obliterated by missile fire while the second feels the fire of poison enter his bloodstream.

Kailute leaps upon the stone seeking to attack one of the trolls, but instead lands upon the snake who hisses and turns to bite the surprised barbarian.

Quilro enters the room to observe Kailute batting a large snake away as an ice troll is rapidly reloading a ballistae.

DonBrapp strolls forward and crushes the head of the last troll to the east with a blow of his hammer.

As the party has cleared the eastern end of the passageway, the sounds of ballistae machinery being pulled taught emanates from the west.

Hillsafar Hall:  Trolls and a Demon

Having slaughtered the enormous polar worm, the Heroes found themselves in a ballista pickle…  flanked by ice trolls manning dwarven defensive weapons DonBrapp barely escaped being flattened by the defenses Durnkin had warned them about.  Encased in otherworldly ice and cold, the halls of Hillsafar appear infested by gray dwarves…  the Duergar.

DonBrapp has summoned two enormous constrictor snakes to help them squeeze out of this situation… but the cranking of the ballista to the west puts a tone of urgency on their next actions!

“Quilro, grab the ioun stone!  Ye got one more strike in ya!” DonBrapp shouts, turning to face the western threat.

The elf surveys the chamber with the remorhaz corpse, and finds himself staring directly at the ballistae manned by ice trolls to the west.  Lowering his hand he speaks the word “karnholz!” and an enormous lightning bolt erupts across the space, and pieces of wood and finely worked metal explode in front of the monsters.  Both cry out in pain as debris and splinters are sprayed from the attack.

One of the trolls picks up a spear and hurls it at the elf, catching him in his bruised shoulder.

Draxos release three arrows felling the troll who attacked, and Fyrnlocke steps forward to assist.  Kailute hurls his axes at the remaining troll and DonBrapp speeds to the west, commanding his serpents forward.  He looses his hammer but it misses the target.
All note the increased cold as they press west, as well as garbled undercommon escaping the portal to the north.

DonBrapp magically recovers his hammer, but his next attack is so swift he accidentally catches one of his snakes crossing his attack approach, and the creature expires as the hammer crushes its head.

As the ranger advances he notices a mix of duergar and undead Oriothar dwarves advancing from the northern doorway.  “Frost dwarf!” he calls out in warning, and sheathes his sword to throw a volley of darts in their direction.

“ABOMINATION!” DonBrapp responds in newly dedicated piety.

One of the darts sticks in the undead dwarf’s armor, as the duergar disappears from view completely.
Feeling the effects of the unnatural cold, Kailute swings and misses.

Quilro releases a volley of magical energy, causing the remaining troll to recoil as scorching wounds appear all over his torso.

“Varkos!  They’ve slaughtered yer wormy!  They advance!  SEND THE PUPPIES!”  The wounded monster shrieks, turning to retreat toward the west and south.

The glint of light reflecting off a bear sized, canine like creature leaps up from the south into view.  Lacking a face, clear facets of ice shimmer from this elemental creature.
A booming laugh emanates throughout the chamber.  “Who dares enter my ice hole?”  a powerfully fiendish voice questions.

“Oh, we’re gonna tear your icehole apart.”  Kailute says drily.
Draxos withdraws to collect his expended arrows.

Quilro discharges another magic missile from his ring, imploding the chest cavity of the remaining troll who shrieks in pain.

“Fear not, iceguards!  I will avenge you!”  Booms a powerful voice throughout the chamber; neither as much vocal as heard from within each party members head.

The two canine-bear ice elemental beings lope into the chamber to attack, and those with experience and knowledge recognize the creatures a being extraplanar.

Two duergar magically appear in a line of battle, and two undead dwarves shuffle south.
Fyrnlocke avoids an attack from one of the elementals, while one of DonBrapp’s summoned snakes lurches to attack one of the gray dwarves.

With his free hand DonBrapp thrusts force the cube of Brapp, and utters a forceful invocation to the coinfather, releasing one of the zombies he can sense.

Kailute carves icicles from one of the ice elementals as Fyrnlocke misses yet again.
Draxos looses two arrows; one delivering a splintering attack against the elemental before his bow emits a loud “SPRONG!” indicating a broken but repairable string.

The dwarf releases another hammer strike against one of the elementals as his remaining snake fails to strike the ice creature.

Quilro magically transforms into a mouse and begins to scamper toward the cleric across the floor strewn with ice and debris.

The ice elementals rake the cleric and barbarian with their unnaturally cold claws, the wounds screaming with primal energy.

Fyrnlocke recoils from the piercing strike of two iron spikes launched from the duergar.
Casually strolling in, an enormous 12’ tall humanoid, shirtless and baring his blue-skinned chest donning pants of black velour held up by a tassled red rope belt leans himself against the smashed ballistae.  Tilting his large, horned head the demon speaks “So who seeks their icy tomb in the clutches of the winter queen?”  His voice rings with confidence, and a wall of ice blocks off the passageway to the south.

Lowering his axe in a taunt, Kailute calls out flatly “Oh, no.  You cut us off from our henchmen.  You gawdamn super genius, you.”  Clearly unimpressed.

“Who is this orcish brute speaking with such a forked tongue in this dwarfhole?”
“I’ve come to tear open your icehole!”  Kailute spits back.

Quilro leaps up DonBrapp’s shoulder and squeaks for healing into the clerics ear.
The demon lowers his hand, spewing forth a barrage of magical crystal projectiles toward the dwarf.

Two more zombie dwarves shuffle in from the north as the poisoned gray dwarf connects with a crossbow bolt to the barbarian.

Kailute shatters the hind legs of one of the elemental beings, as the elven ranger looses an arrow into the elemental, and it shatters in an icy explosion, raining ice shards upon the party.

“Retreat, thief!” Kailute calls to Fyrnlocke, who is clearly bleeding from multiple wounds.

DonBrapp’s snake presses his attack, as the dwarf throws his hammer into the flank of the remaining ice elemental.

Fyrnlocke steps back toward the iced over passage, as Durnkin is pounding away at the ice.

“Seriously, did not one of you bring anything to drink?”  The demon again attempts to casually parlay.

The ice elements furiously presses the attack, sinking its claws through the magical armor protecting the cleric.

The grey dwarves appear to be retreating, prompting the demon to observe archly “Leaving so soon?  No wonder it is so easy to overcome your pathetic attempts with the power of Auril!”

“The kiss of my maid with provide you all with eternal strength.  The STRENGTH OF AURIL!”  he shouts to nobody in particular.

Frustrated, Quilro the elf burrows into the dwarf’s garments and attempts to bite him to gain his attention.  Squirming, the dwarf shimmies the mouse out of his tabard.

Draxos looks incredulously on Fyrnlocke as he again misses with his bow.  Kailute hacks away two of the limbs of the elemental, which shrieks in sonic agony almost depleted.

Two more elementals lope forward athwart the demon, exasperating Kailute.  “How gawdam many of these things are there?”
“ATTACK!” Squeaks the elf-mouse, and DonBrapp nods in grim agreement.

Reaching his fist to the heavens, DonBrapp pulls forth an enormous gout of fire through the ceiling of the passageway, and the mountain shakes with the power of Vergadain releasing the heat of his vengeance upon the demon.

Shuddering under the attack, the demon retorts “REALLY?  This is how you envision hospitality?  By Auril’s kiss I will make sure every one of you freezes before you pay!”
“GET OUT OF MY PANTS AND MURDER THAT FIEND!”  DonBrapp exclaims to the mage-thief.

Quilro turns invisible and begins to approach the mildly wounded devil.  Kailute leaps forward and is surprised when his usually sure blows fail to connect.

Turning to backhand with one arm, the demon casually leans forward and picks the invisible mouse up from the passage floor.

“Really?  That was your plan?” he asks, before tossing the mouse against the wall.  The creature squeaks in pain upon impact before sliding to the passage floor.

Fyrnlocke’s chest is ripped open by one of the ice elementals, and he slumps to the floor beneath the forearms of one of the frozen beings.

Draxos draws his blade and charges forth to attack one of the elementals.  His first swipe smashes into one of the elementals, but his second swing is unbalanced and he slips and falls in front of the creature.

Rapidly changing from mouse form to elf, Quilro hurriedly pulls his spellbook from his pack, as DonBrapp calls forth a sanctuary around his being and moves quickly toward Fyrnlocke.

Feeling the pain of pulling the arcane weave directly from page and ether through his being, Quilro exerts all of his magical mastery and control to pull down the ceiling upon the ice demon, shaking the mountain and passages as stone, marble, and dirt collapse directly atop where the fiend is standing.  The elf collapses from the exertion, every one of his synapses firing in agony.

The demon and attendant elementals suffer minor damage, but are shocked and dazed from the collapse and collect themselves to begin digging out of the dirt and debris.  A shockwave of curses erupts from the pile of dirt and debris, and the ice elementals take a defensive perimeter around the mound.

Kailute slices into the closest as two more dwarven zombies close for battle.  One of the snakes thrusts his head out, but connects only to the armor of the undead dwarf.
Again DonBrapp hoists high his cube, and attempts to turn the undead Oriothar.   His power is not forthcoming, and instead the dwarves advance with the fury of being reminded of their eternal undeath.

Draxos slices the arms from one of the undead dwarves.

“This way, my friend.”  DonBrapp hears in a soft, sibilant voice in an elvish accent.  He tends to Fyrnlocke’s wounds to stanch his wounds.

One of the elementals lopes over Quilro as Kailute slips and falls attempting to attack one of the zombies, inviting an attack from one of their decomposing claws.
A summoned snake finally ends one of the zombies, and the dwarf continues to minister to the human fighter-thief.

“You should know, Quilro wants his leaf-licking partner to get a full share, just like you.”
Draxos continues to thrust and parry, as the healed Fyrnlocke leaps up to recover Quilro from the passage.  Petra and Durnkin advance from the south to assist.  Petra releases a series of magic missiles destroying the remaining zombie.

The remaining trio of gray dwarves retreat to the north as the sibilant elvish voice repeats “Safety…  over here.  Help me…”

“What a frail, frail dendrophile.” The dwarf remarks, before muttering something under his breath about the dagger as Fyrnlocke passes.

Durnkin advises there is likely to be some cache of healing nearby, and leads the group back east.

DonBrapp attempts to heal the elf, but his magical energy continues to be less than fully responsive. The elf croaks in pain, and Petra leans forward to comfort her mentor.  It seems the harder the dwarf chants, the less magic is produced.

Fyrnlocke collects the ioun of healing from Petra; DonBrapp issues a stern warning not to further break any more magical stones.

Moving east, the group observes the bodily form of an elfmaid shivers in the cold.  Her skin has an almost blueish tinge from the prolonged exposure to elemental cold, and her eyes are the color of deep azure.

“Help me, friends.  I will help you.  But we must get away from these graylings.”  She motions toward the east, past the abandoned ballista.  The group moves eastward past the sprung trap toward a 12’ statue of a dwarf garbed in the clerical vestments of Clangeddin.  Durnkin speaks a word that releases a cache of six potions of healing.

DonBrapp gulps down one of the potions, and it sates and heals the dwarf from within.

  Surveying the space he notices at several ballistae spears and the parts and equipment of what was once a guard post and corresponding barracks to the south.  Toward the south the black ice and cold begins anew, while on an eastern wall more etched graffiti highlighted by frozen ice mars the high-quality stone paneling.

“Ice-kissed flowers caught mid-bloom, beauty kept in all its grace.  Summer's gone to its silent tomb, stilling in her cold embrace.”

“More flowery Auril bullshit.”  DonBrapp states flatly.  As the blue skinned elf signals to the north, Petra makes a protective sign.
The elfmaid Eldara offers her story.

“My people hail from the High Forest, well south and west of here.  We were set upon by Thayvian slavers.  They in turn were ambushed by horrible fire giants…  I sought refuge in a valley and awoke here.”

The group pauses to collect its thoughts and plot next moves.




 2:10

6pm 7 Hammer

Having fought their way through the initial ceremonial entrance way to Hillsafar Hall, the heroes returned to the rift to rest and refit.  Aside from some stray giantkin, the rift remains cleared of Zengyhi’s organized forces, but clearly there are other forces at work below…  the forces of absolute cold.  It appears the winter queen is directly involved in the invasion and occupation of Hillsafar Hall… and something is animating some of the fallen Oriothar dwarves.

The veterans of Waymeet peer into the cold depths below.

The stairway is flanked by two warrior statues, hands folded over hammers used for both fighting and the forge.  A worked mithril face of a bearded figure is inlaid into the floor, appearing almost flawlessly flush with the set stone pieces.  The sharps scent of offal and refuse waft up from the cold below.

Standing behind the party, Eldara whispers “There is death below.”  The dwarf prepares to withdraw and seek Vergadain’s favor in order to better investigate the nature of this elven maiden.

Petra and Fyrnlocke agree there is something off about the elvish female, encouraging DonBrapp to further examine the situation.

The elfmaiden is hanging back to the west, exhibiting neither interest nor deference.
Draxos approaches, and she looks him up and down with little hidden hunger.  She explains her homeland is a small enclave within the High Forest, far to the southwest.  Many of her folk had made the retreat to Evermeet, but she decided to honor her family by staying behind and attempting to mend the rift between the races.  Although her words ring true, the ranger feels he is communicating with someone acting under duress.

Kailute decides to stroll up, and hefts the flat of his axe upon her shoulder.

Both barbarian and elf are rapt in blue electric shock, and thrown to the floor with the sudden force of enormous magical energy.  Her body hits the ground with the wet thud of broken bones and she begins to wail in pain.  The transluscent shadow of a lithe winged female figure appears to rip from the elf’s form, and a succubus floats in the air above the three of them.

“Come to me, love…” the sibilant creature hisses at the ranger, who barely resists the urge to join the wicked temptress.

Quilro launches a volley of magical energy that causes the demoness to recoil before lashing out to attack the magic-using thief with her claws, slashing his chest and shoulder.

Draxos knocks three arrows and looses them striking the succubus in her chest, significantly wounding the fell creature.

“No bitch from the nether planes will infect my forges!”  Shouts Durnkin, leaping forward to attack.  With a running leap he delivers an overhead smashing blow with a magical mace that collapses her body as it implodes with a whimper to another plane.

Waking from his reverie, the dwarf saunters around to find the broken elf lying on the ground.

The scent of lizard guano is almost overpowering wafting up from the stairs below.
Tomas scurries forward and gingerly applies what healing he can to the broken elf.  Petra keeps her distance, looking warily at the wounded maiden.

Examining the statues Fyrnlocke discovers a pair of scrolls within one of the statues flanking the stairwell.  DonBrapp secures the parchments in his exquisitely crafted backpack.

Quilro slinks down the stairwell inspecting for traps as Draxos collects his spent arrows.

DonBrapp bestows a powerful healing magic on the half-orc, restoring some of his fighting health.

Set for the steps of the dwarves, the footfalls of the hand-crafted marble steps are off for those of a larger gait.  The stairway descends 50’ below into a square chamber with a 10’ corridor to the north.  Dwarven statues of forge workers flank the southern wall in alcoves next to the descending staircase.

The smell of lizard guano is overpowering.

A meticulously crafted mosaic of a smith about to hammer a finely made hammer is inlaid into the entrance of the passageway.  Silence is momentarily interrupted by what sounds like skittering claws on marble to the north.

Up ahead, a small, maybe 2’ dun brown eight-legged lizard scurries away into the shadows to the north.  As you creep forward, additional stirring and the sound of claws on a polished floor can be heard.

Advancing northward, you can see several dun brown lizards, all scrambling with their eight legs back toward an engorged 12’ yellowish brown monstrosity.  Eight legged, with flat green pale eyes..  a stumpy booted demi-human leg hanging from  it’s alligator like maw.

Catching a look from one of the lizardlings Kailute feels a wave a nausea roll over him as he recognizes the lizards as basilisks.  The half-orc closes his eyes.
  “Basilisks ahead!”  the barbarian spits.

Quilro unleashes a fireball into the chamber ahead, exploding in heat and lizard refuse.  The hissing of charred reptiles follows the sonic boom of the fireball.

Kailute creeps forward, his ears ringing but still attuned to blind fighting.  Sensing a lizard he brings his weapon down and ends the magical beast.

The ranger slings his bow and pulls darts from his pouch tossing them north against the basilisks.  One falls stray and catches Kailute in the shoulder.

A furious 15’ large eight legged lizard leaps forward and rakes the barbarian with its claws, drawing several lines of blood on his forearms.

DonBrapp slides to the side and lowers his weapon to release a lightning bolt into the chamber ahead.  The basilisk shrieks and stares hard at the dwarf, who instinctively averts his view to avoid petrification.

Petra steps forward to increase the remaining fires, obscuring the gaze attack of the enormous reptile.

Emboldened, DonBrapp readies a spell and makes to charge the lizard, his hand outstretched to strike.  Sliding on the burned guano, the dwarf misses skidding into the northern wall behind.

Draxos delivers another volley of arrows causing the reptile to flail in pain.
The chamber is filling with pungent smoke as Petra increases the fires.

Quilro sinks another battery of magical missiles into the beast, causing it to turn and slap Kailute with its claws before attempting to retreat.  The barbarian counters by slicing off several of it’s legs leaving a bloody smear as it tries to escape.
DonBrapp sends a lightning bolt straight down it’s shrieking maw, causing the lizard to explode.

Sensing an opportunity, the elf rolls forward with some clothes from his pack and scoops up the remaining basilisk lizardling.

To the west, the noise has attracted the attention of several repulsive segmented worms with large tentacles from a room to the north.  Slithering forward like millipedes their tentacles attempt to strike anything they sense movement.

Draxos lands an arrow on one of the worms before his bowstring gives out with a loud dissonant “SPRONG!”

The dwarf levels two of the carrion crawlers with a bolt of lightning that richochets off the far wall with even more destructive force.

Fyrnlocke connects with two slashes of his sword to the fleshy worms.  Durnkin flanks the thief and crushes one of the crawlers heads with his borrowed mace.

Kailute is struck by the fleshy tentacles but ignores the paralyzing attack.

Quilro kills another of the segmented worms, leaving only one.  DonBrapp slides to the side and releases his hammer crushing several of the tentacles as Fyrnlocke delivers the killing blow.

“Durnkin, you’ll need to fumigate.”  DonBrapp states surveying the carnage.  Examining the ice plinths flanking the opening to the room to the north.
Inkwells, sand, stamps.  Ornate vellum, and untapped keg. 1:30 The holy and sacred tools of the accounting.

Draxos collects sinew from the dead lizards.

Concussive noises are heard to the south and east.

“Golgothiir’s black!”  Durnkin exclaims.

Quilro knocks the chest, triggering a lightning bolt.  The chest is lined with black velvet, mithril ingots.  Trade bars, and pieces of worked onyx.

It is of interest to DonBrapp that the Duegar have not molested the chest or this area of the hall.

8pm 7 Hammer

The heroes have exterminated all but one of the lizards and carrion worms from the lower entrance level to Hillsafar hall.  They find themselves investigating the administrative and diplomatic chambers under Durnkin’s watchful eye.  Battered but ambulatory, the mysterious Eldara shuffles with the assistance of Tomas.

The 15x60 chamber that runs east west.  To the north, a recessed alcove holds another dwarven statue, this one thickly covered by white-gray reptile dung.  An opening to the right is flanked by two towers of interplanar ice, although the cold does not seem to have any effect upon the lizards.

Ornate decorative corniches adorn the wall, and hand worked pillars flank entrances to the east and west.  Passageways appear to loop back southward from the far walls.
The party explores the room to the east finding what appears to have been an ornamental trophy room.  A large statue of beaten metal in the form of a giant dwarf looks down upon a smashed trophy case, another keg in the corner and a beautifully craft dun orange and brown rug interlaced with purple.  The rug is woven of phase spider filament, and Durnkin shares that this chamber is for the display of gifts from folks outside the Oriothar clan.

Quilro summons Petra, who rolls the rug up into a bedroll and puts it over her shoulder.   The elf casts a spell that brings forth the history of the items, noting an elven crystal serving set, an urn from the humans in the Bloodstone Village and the rug is of underdark demi-human construction.

DonBrapp’s eyes grow large at the thought of such a magnificent rug inside the Gundar Vundark.

An earthquake like shock ripples through the chamber, indicating a large release of magical energy somewhere to the east.

Durnkin relates the levels below, including the ceremonial hall, living chambers and the mines and forges below.

Kailute infers the metal statue was likely crafted by frost giants.
In the western room Quilro notes a barely perceptible Dethek rune, and Durnkin translates it to read “western annex.”

“Hurmph.” He grunts, offering no more information.
Kailute returns to the center chamber and directs Tomas to provide him some additional healing which he humbly provides.

After the items have been inventoried and gathered back into the center room, the party turns its attention to the sounds of combat and infernal screening from the south and east.

Draxos collects the arrows that remain recoverable, and Fyrnlocke agrees to share his quiver with the bowman.

The sight of a 15’ demon with rippling muscle and arms of both humanoid and crustacean is visible to Quilro as he peers down the hallway.  The demon is yelling things in front of him, but without a sense of concern or urgency.

DonBrapp pulls a scroll from his pack and eagerly begins to mouth the holy words.
After internal deliberations, the dwarf barrels down the hall and lands headlong into the hip and thigh of the blue skinned infernal.  Looking down, he utters a bewildered chuckle at the intervening cleric.

To the east a troop of insectoid ice devils armed with enormous glaives appear locked in combat with a squad of demons.  Gargantuan toad-like monsters rally behind the glabrezu in the scrum.

Fyrnlocke senses the dwarf is trouble charges to attack.  Upon closing he skids on his heels with a “WHAT…  THE… FUUCCCCK?!?” before missing his attacks.

“Come on, PLENTY OF FIGHT DOWN HERE!”  DonBrapp yells over his shoulder.

Draxos advises the henchmen to be wary, and turns to ensure nothing is approaching from behind.

Ruefully shaking his head, Quilro draws his family blade and darts down the hall.  As he closes with the demon the weapon is enveloped in a purple aura and he leaps over Fyrnlocke to plant the blade in the shoulder of the infernal beast, slicing off it’s upper left arm.

“AAAARRRRRRRRRGH!”  The foul abomination screams, finally attracting the attention of the other assembled infernals.  The demon backhands the dwarf away and rakes Fyrnlocke with his offhand.

The dwarf again attempts to connect with the demon but its attack against the elf thwarts the attempt.

“Don’t forget me!”  Screams the barbarian running in to land two blows on the demon.
The demon continues to pound on the dwarf, who dodges several of the blows unable to grasp the monster to release his spell.

Kailute delivers a devastating blow, ripping a large wound in the enormous beings chest.
Fyrnlocke withdraws to the north.  Draxos scans the passageway to the north.

“He owed us money!  None of your business!”  Kailute asserts flatly, and strangely convincingly to the assembled demons not directly engaged in the fight with the insectoid devils.

DonBrapp finally lands his gauntlet on the demon, sending the infernal rent back to another plane in a vacuum cloud of grey ichor.

“That’s what happens when you don’t pay your debts!” Kailute shouts, and the group withdraws to the north.

The dwarf stares at his hand in contemplation, as a wall of ice appears to seal off the combat to the east from the departing party.

Regrouping in front of the ceremonial chambers, Fyrnlocke examines the area for traps and finds none.  DonBrapp observes some magical ornamentation on the wall that may be a device for scrying.

Probing to the south, the scent of decaying flesh and death assault the nostrils of the party, excepting DonBrapp who remains aloof and unaware.

Noting a statue of a female dwarf the cleric stares longingly for a few moments before being prodded to continue by the elf.

Taking the western passageway, a barricade of furniture is observed blocking the passage north.  The impaled head of a duergar on a pole stands in front of the obstacle, perhaps serving has some warning.

Quilro begins to remove the furniture, and the noise of the action attracts a yellowish-dun humanoid from the southern passageway.  A large brownish creature with bulging muscles and beetle-like mandibles approach aggressively.

Draxos looses a vicious arrow attack, taking a limb from the disgusting creature.  Making a loud but unintelligible cry the creature rakes the ranger with his claws opening several wounds.

Fyrnlocke steps forward with a devastating sword swing toward the monsters companion.
Quilro backs off the blockading obstacles and turns to join the melee.
As Kailute rends several wounds to the companion as another umber hulk comes around the corner from the south.

DonBrapp sprints forward with his magical boots between the two monsters and hurls his hammer at the third beast, crushing its carapace near the shoulder.
Draxos steps back and grabs four arrows from Fyrnlocke’s quiver.
Kailute fells one of the hulks while landing a second blow on the second which howls in pain.

Fyrnlocke fells the second, surprised at his own successful attack.

Quilro keeps his eyes on the passageways for any further attackers.

The final umber hulk rakes DonBrapp, who recoils before delivering a powerful blow to the already wounded creature.

Kailute pushes past the two monster corpses and quickly slices the limbs off the hulk before reversing his blade and pushing it through the monsters head.

Dwarf and half-orc stand in the disgusting remnants of the umber hulk lair.  Collecting himself DonBrapp turns to tend to the party, healing Draxos.  Tomas throws one remaining healing poultice from the halflings.

Durnkin indicates the area to the north and west is guest quarters, and recalls the rune indicating something about the western chambers.

Draxos scours for his flung arrows as the group turns to clearing the obstacles to the north.

After removing the debris from the passageway, Durnkin steps forward and calls out to comrades in dwarven.

“DURNKIN!  Moradin verdamt, it tis ye!”  a voice bellows from the north.   A battle scarred dwarf in plate holding a large axe steps into the passageway.  A squad of dwarves, all in combat gear bearing the marks of battle.

A welcome reunion occurs, and Tokar relates the onslaught of duergar and interplanar beings that have frozen the lava floes that fire the forges.  They have barricaded themselves in the guest chambers, and are conducting hit and run attacks against the intruders while hearing evidence of combat throughout the halls.  They are committed to protecting what remains of the Oriothar in Hillsafar.

They invite the party to rest and recover in their chambers, which retain an air of opulence even in negligence during the occupation.

DonBrapp introduces himself as a McJurgin and faithful of Vergadain before turning to providing magically summoned food and drink before tending to the wounded.

As the evening closes the party finds needful rest under the watchful eyes of the Oriothar.