Category Archives: GM Blog

Our heroes trundled over the snowy slopes of the foothills which sparkled under the sparse moonlight through the scrim of clouds above and in spite of the Central Mountains which hovered blackly over the entire scene. They were in the lead of the party of 11. Behind them were Olf the Arborean healer, the green-cloaked bard Canohk and the half-faun warriors of the Achaánal clan taking up the rear; their battle axes with their daggers in their belts, their claymores strapped to their backs and their painted shields on their arms. Before long the clouds thickened and the cold night grew darker, a storm began to brew in a fogbank. The Blackwings could see it starting to move in their direction, an obscuring wall of bone-white which engulfed the Lich-Fortress that had been still visible in the distance in an ominous pall of churning mist. The snowstorm would bear down on the party within the half hour. Of course, it was then that Magiia realized that she wasn’t equipped with any cold weather gear. Grom, the shaman, tried to Calm Storm but failed. The 3 rangers that had accompanied the slayers on their mission to Cleft-Rills and that Vorwulf had sent southward to scout out a safe campsite several minutes before sighting the storm had yet to return. Vor and the 6 Hill-Lander warriors began to furiously dig into the snow. Increasing winds blew sleet into their eyes and the slayers lost track of the rest of their party finding that their dugout only sheltered Magiia the Feren Dragon-Blood Warrior, Grom the Shaman and Olf the Arborean (tree-man) healer aside from Vor himself. The storm raged above its roar rumbling through the snow while the slayers huddled together in their cramped shelter. They set to their assigned watches and took turns sleeping until the storm was finished burying the mountains in a heavy layer of fresh powder.

Dawn. It took a while for them to dig themselves out as the storm had dumped several feet of snow on them during the night. The foothills upon which they were traveling and the mountains to their north were a glittering desert of ice all of the crevasses, ridges and thickets filled and buried. Olf used his ESP abilities to locate the rest of the party and the slayers were able to dig all six of the Achaánal and Canohk the bard up, all blue-lipped and suffering hypothermia. Olf and the shaman healed what they could to ease the damage on the bard and all but one of the fighters. By mid-day they were again on the move in snow up to their waists. They had managed to cover about 4 miles by Vor’s reckoning spotting a large probably heavy-weight brown dragon in the clouds above when they were half that distance. None of them could identify it. Come evening Vor found a great place to dig a shelter at the base of a pair of rocks setting the fighters to do the actual digging. As they were getting ready to occupy the burrow Grom took the time to magically protect all of the party members with Impervious to Elements (Cold). Again they settled in for the night and assigned watches for the night.

Suddenly the screaming of the pair of warriors on second watch woke them abruptly to splattering snow and face-to-face with a rather pleasantly surprised (and very hungry) winter-dragon who had just dug into and opened the front end of their snow-cave. The Hill-Landers horrified were pushing backward deeper into the ruined shelter squeezing the slayers into the rear. Magiia easily pushed her way through the frightened half-fauns to the front. Vorwulf shouted, “Stand your ground!” to the Achaánal clan warriors and then shot an arrow from his bow. The barbed dragon-bone arrow found its mark striking deep, the dragon blasted the crew with its frost breath in response but to no effect. Magiia struck at it with her axe hacking a deep gash in its pearly-white hide the blood dropping as clumps of red ice crystals onto the snow. Grom tried to get a spell off but failed as he was jammed against the rear rock wall. The dragon leapt backward with a mighty beat of its wings blowing snow into their faces causing the Hill-Landers to hide their faces behind their shields. Vorwulf shot another dragon-bone arrow into the beast and it shrieked falling backwards about 100 ft. into the snow; the giant winter-dragon disappearing from sight. Magiia losing control of herself flew into a rage and chased after the dragon crazy for its blood.

Magiia (growling): “I need its blood!”

She leapt into the hole in the snow onto the rapidly sinking corpse. They realized that they were very near to North Lake, the stones where they had dug their quinzee were probably just beyond the shore, and the dragon had jumped backward and dropped dead over the lake falling through the built up snow into the icy water. Maggi (Magiia) was slashing madly at the draconic corpse steeping herself and her dagger in blood and gore. The others realized she would be dragged under into the icy waters by the sheer weight of the dragon’s body and probably drown due to the encumbrance of her armor. Grom cast Bestial Might and growing a pair of wings snatched her from the dragon’s mutilated corpse just as it sank beneath the freezing lake waters bringing her back to the camp by the rocks. She turned and spent the last of the manic energy of the episode trying to spot the location of the dragon’s body when she couldn’t see anything she collapsed to her knees finally recovering her senses. The party spent the rest of the night bunched up against the rocks in the depression where their snow-cave had been.

The red dawn saw the party breaking into their trail rations. Of course, it was then that Magiia realized that she wasn’t carrying any food. The shaman shared some of his rations with her and gave her 10 days’ worth to carry. After breakfast and just before they broke camp the shaman war-painted them as a “precaution”. Later Vorwulf found a stable and easy path across the hills and over the snow and led the party straight eastward. The day was uneventful but exhausting and by dusk they came to a steep decline. It was snowing. Vor knew that the Trade Road was very near and possibly the safest if not the only way down from the foothills otherwise the party would have to climb moving very slowly along the steep hillside. Due to the snowfall and the deepness of the drifts he simply couldn’t find it. He found what he thought was a safe camping spot and began to dig hoping to find the road in the morning. By dark the dugout was ready and the group gathered while Grom cast his Protection from Elements spell. He botched it and the magical energy got away from him exploding in a brilliant flash. Fortunately the explosion only really wounded Vor though somewhat badly (he rolled a Natural 1), the other fighters were only lightly singed. The shaman apologized from the center of a ring-shaped crater and used the Heal All ability on a magic ring to restore all of the wounded back to full health. He successfully cast Protection from Elements on the second try. The night went uneventfully as another winter storm raged above.

Come morning the slayers were puzzled to find dragon tracks sunk into the snow circling their burrow. They surmised from the tracks it was a heavy-weight and a five-toe.

Vor: “A five-toe, sh*t. Those things are smart.”

Grom: “What are they more powerful or something?”

Vor: “You remember that big red one? [The Dragonslayers I Pt. 38: The Big Red One] He was a five-toe but also a dragon-lord.”

Grom: “Oh.”

The slayers studied the tracks for quite some time, the rest of the party the six Achaánal and Canohk the bard, Olf was waiting patiently, were getting a bit restless and eager to get back on the move. Vorwulf guessed, due to a few recondite clues gathered from and around the tracks, that it could be a Brown Spine Dragon a species native to the Granfor forest but believed to be extinct. None have been seen alive in an age. Reminded of their mission by the bard they tore themselves from speculation on the tracks and began hunting for the Trade Road in the snow. Vorwulf still in heavy contemplation about the rare dragon started off in the wrong direction. It was the shaman who spotted the road only a few hundred feet east-southeast from the quinzee. They figured it was time to get some bearing as to where they should be headed so Magiia whipped out the sword named Anvil and let the shaman use his Clairvoyance on it. He was able to get a better read on the rebel camp than last time and could see with his mind’s eye the warriors the Blue-Hand had gathered to himself. Among the Blue-Hand’s forces were about a hundred Westlander “peasant” warriors and around fifty Westlander tribal warriors. Due to the shaman’s descriptions of their facial tattoos Vor thought they may be from the south somewhere around Veringer’s Field and Eagle’s Grove. They decided they needed to keep moving straight east as they had only covered about 14 miles in the past 2 days. They still had easily over 30 miles to go. If they kept making as little headway as they had so far they were going to lose the race with the Black Moon. Snow began to fall as they pushed on and soon the gossamer haze of the harsh Westland winter cut their vision to around 20 ft. They stopped and tied themselves together at the waist with a rope then continued on in the white-out. As dusk fell the haze eased a bit as did the snow fall though it didn’t stop. Again they found an obstacle in their path. They gazed over the steep drop to which they had just arrived. The hillside was extremely steep and below that another steep hillside which led into a gorge and that to a frozen but presumably still flowing river. To the north they could just make out a still flowing waterfall more by its sound than anything else.

Vor: “Devils Falls.”

They had come to the river gorge which fed Loc Lake and thus Farm Creek and which flowed under Miller’s Bridge to the far south. They set camp by digging another burrow at the base of some rocks. By third watch the snowfall had become a raging snowstorm and the team awoke to their snow-cave collapsing in on their heads! The Hill-Landers were able to keep it from completely burying all of them using their shields to shore up the ceiling while Vor desperately worked to repair it. Grom spent an hour trying to calm the storm but to no avail so he continued with another more powerful version of the spell (Calm Storm I & II) for an additional hour finally able to ease its elemental rage. At dawn they spent an hour at the top of the slope arguing about the best way to get across as walking around would simply take too much time; time which they did not have.

Eventually they settled on going north a ways towards Devils Falls so they can cross the river which flows from the mountains to the waterfall and having Grom cast Bestial Might on himself to grow wings, fly over and tie the rope to an anchor, and move across it in a daisy chain. After a couple of tries they got it right and were able to get their party across the frozen river without casualty. A few hours later towards early evening however, a deep and ominous rumbling came gradually to their frozen ears and they saw a billowing wall of white ripping down the mountainside from their immediate north. Someone shouted, “Avalanche!” Immediately Grom used his Bestial Might to fly off with Olf the healer and Vor slashed the air with his Scimitar of Dimension Door Maggi just barely jumping onto his back in time to be whisked out of the path of white death as he leapt through.

Late that night the team found themselves resting in the tops of trees in a thicket at the foot of a hillside. The slayers had finally regrouped with the healer’s help they had located the buried members of their troop and rescued and healed them among the thicket in which they now rested. The night passed uneventfully, the party decided to rest for another day as the shaman and healer were both still exhausted from the previous night’s efforts. The day was grey with unbroken cloud cover the only sign of dusk was an intensification of the wintry gloom prior to a very thorough and seemingly premature darkness. Just as they began to drift off to sleep a fighter screamed! The trees were whipped by a blast of stinging winds and snow. The slayers, the bard, healer and the fighters held on for dear life. In the sudden chaos Vor and Maggi caught a glimpse of a massive brown dragon with a collection of quills at its tail and horns over its back swooping in just above the skeletal treetops. It was a Brown Spine Dragon. Magiia’s eyes followed it as it soared upward into the clouds.

Magiia: “It’s flying east!”

Jenn (Magiia’s Player): “Should we go follow it?”

Cris (Vor’s Player): “Man, I want to get that dragon but we got a mission. Let’s find the Blue-Hand first.”

Jenn: “Aww.”

Magiia growled.

The next morning they climbed back up the hillside and continued struggling eastward through the frigid waist-high drifts. By sundown they found themselves at a dead stop on the edge of a 100 ft. cliff. Vorwulf knew the cliff and the box canyon it bounded as Nizgal’s End named after the fate of a petty warlord of a century ago. Stumped they bivouacked on the cliff’s edge.

 

To Be Continued…

All three of the slayers sat in the taproom of the Rat in what functioned as an official guild meeting. Grom had managed to concoct 5 doses of highest quality healing salve and Magiia would have to wait for the month it would take the artist to finish her portrait. During their conversation about the current situation and what they should do about it the subject of the Gate Stones arose (see the Dragonslayers II Pt.14: A Black Moon Rising) that they, sans Magiia, had previously acquired in their battle against the God-King of Troll-Guard (see the Dragonslayers II Pt.16: The God-King Awaits!). The players figured that none of their characters could use the stones and the casting check to use them was just too high. Plus, none of them had the proper skills to even try. Then Cris (and thus Vorwulf in the meeting) had an eureka moment.

Cris [snapping his fingers]: “The Druid! Vezik!”

Vorwulf ran out of the Rat east along Sirti Street to the Town Center, past the blackened oak and into the beerhall where the druid’s party had decided to catch some drinks and a meal. A few minutes later the Haldred’s group was meeting with the Blackwings in the Hopping Rat. They let Vezik borrow the manual for the Gate Stones overnight and were set to meet up with him and his party at Town Center at sunrise. He would send them direct to Blackbrow where they could hopefully end this in one fell swoop. The rangers, Canohk the bard, Olf the healer and 6 Achaánal warriors would accompany them. The Achaánal were seeking to redeem themselves as they felt ashamed of their performance against the zombie dragon the previous night. The elders of Merdna when contacted could only wish them luck as they had no warriors to spare. The Blackwings began checking their equipment and packing their gear. The Hill-Lander warriors, Canohk the bard, and Olf had decided to stay in the Rat. Magiia sneered at the bard (Ferenoi are somewhat racially biased against Fauns).

Grom decided to cast Clairvoyance on the sword Magiia had “inherited” from Bers, the silver single-handed great sword with the stamp on the blade of an anvil being struck by a hammer. This after Vor told him that the sword had come from the ruins of tower Blackbrow. It had been acquired by Bers after her and his master had looted the place and cleansed it of its resident wyvern (see The Dragonslayers I Pt. 6: Part the Sixth). The visions and whispering of the spirits told that the sword was named the Anvil and was the twin of the magic sword named the Hammer. He saw that a young man with a blue hand painted on his cloak wielded the Hammer against the undead under his war-banner. His forces were camping in a clearing in a wood, a wood rife with faeries and errant magic. When the Blue-Hand wielded the sword against the undead hordes it emitted beams of sunlight and was able to hold the creatures at bay while his men copped and hammered them into dust. When he came out of his trance he relayed the information to his companions. The anvil was required to trigger the full magic stored within the Hammer both blades must be stuck into the lich’s body and would destroy the creature and its phylactery wherever it may be hidden as well as the 3 phylacteries in the form of crystals it wears on its right wrist and the comparably very large one it wears on its left. Grom gave Magiia his last Guardian Bear Totem.

Come night fall, the shaman took it upon himself to go to the Woodcutters’ guild at the North Gate to try to recruit some axe-men but was predictably turned away. While he was walking back along the snow covered street a sudden twinge up his spine caused him to turn to the northern horizon and there he saw a red glow as a forest fire hovering above the trees.  He shook his fist and shouted: “Damn You!” By the time he arrived back at the tavern the others were asleep, he soon joined them in dream.

Vorwulf suffered the dream-haunting of the Lich-Fighter of Blackbrow and suffered a nasty constitution drain (he rolled a Natural 1) and was deathly pale upon waking in the morning. The shaman had also had a dream and while Vorwulf drank down a Potion of Purification he told it to him with the Hill-Lander warriors as an audience while they geared up. The shaman related that he had been having the same dream for a while now about a large red dragon wearing a necklace of three dragon skulls laughing as it burned the forest and the monster’s desire for a giant glowing mushroom the height of a great redwood. The dragon he had recognized, it was the very same that had destroyed his tribe in the far north. An Achaánal perked up and said the dragon didn’t mean much to him but the mushroom sounds like the one that sprouts every snow-melt at the very end of winter in a placed called the White Heath among the cursed ruins which lie there. The White Heath was directly north from Merdna along the Barbarian’s Tread in what was their homeland and former kingdom, Norusk. The Achaánal had been ousted by a Low-Lander rebellion agitated by a fitful Hyvalian Paladin named Chinsalis. The High-Lander fighter spat on the ground to clear his mouth of that despised name and went back to quietly honing his claymore.

At dawn the party of Blackwings and Druidic marshals left the tavern hauling the Gate Stones with them as they made their way to the town center all wearing the war paint on their faces painted on by the shaman before departing. Soon they found themselves at the center of stones with Haldred Vezik chanting the inner glow of the various precious Gate-Stones pulsating with his voice each time growing in intensity until the final pulse was a blinding burst of light. When the light faded and their vision returned to them the war-party found themselves in an unexpected place.

They were at the foot of a mountain slope atop a range of foothills with a frozen lake visible a few miles off at the bottom of the foothills. Vorwulf and Magiia turned around towards the mountain and could see a large ruined fortress being dug out from under the snow, dirt and rock of the mountainside not far off further up the slope. It was being unburied by a horde of worker-zombies and skeletons. Vor was able to get his bearings and realized that they had been teleported to the foot of the Central Mountains at the northern border of Cleft-Rills overlooking North Lake with the North Gate Pass a few miles to the east. To their immediate north-east was a large canyon between the outcroppings of the mountains. The ruins of Blackbrow tower were about 12 miles directly south. That’s when they realized that since the Gate Manual was very ancient and thus the Blackbrow referenced within it written in Trollish Magical Script no less must have been referencing Castle Blackbrow. The map of Cleft-Rills and the position of all of the old ruins made perfect sense now in Vor’s mind (he had had his suspicions), they were watch and guard towers ringing the outskirts of a central fortress. They looked at the distant fortress ghost-lights aimlessly haunted it’s still earthy battlements.

Grom cast Clairvoyance again on the sword named Anvil. He told the others that its twin lay somewhere called Horn-Wood near a place called Hornstone.

Vorwulf: “Well, I guess we better go find the Blue Hand then.”

Cris [to me]: “This is a one-way trip through the stones isn’t it?”

Me [the GM]: “Yup.”

They began trekking east.

 

To Be Continued…

It was the next day after the attack on Merdna by the forces of Blackbrow. The Civil Authority had decided to prepare for a siege demanding a written inventory to be submitted by all shops and guild-houses. The North and South gates had also seen battle but sporadically and with small forces using hit & run tactics probably as a diversion pinning down the defenders so they couldn’t redistribute to where they were needed. Runners had been sent out to all nearby settlements as soon as possible after the attack and had since returned. The news they had brought back was burning through the city igniting rumors and melting the general anxiety of the shaken populous into black fear. Lord Vorahd and his warriors were determined to stay in the Fertum where they believed they would have strategic advantage so they could not be counted on to help defend the city. Asternor to the south was still cut off by a siege conducted by the greater forces of Blackbrow. Those forces were in much greater number than those of the force that had assaulted Merdna. Sirti to the West had taken occasional raids and so refused to help in favor of their preparations against what they perceived as an imminent oncoming siege. There had been no word from any of the towns along the western half of the Nirix River. Runners sent in that direction had returned with the information that the roads are being patrolled and guarded by the Black Soldiery of Blackbrow (see Dragonslayers II Pt.6: Raven’s Eyrie).

Our heroes, the Blackwings, the slayers, were nearly fully recovered by the time they had risen at dawn with the pale winter sun. The inventory that they had just finished was more than a little pathetic, it was blank. The cupboards and store of the Hopping Rat Tavern were bare and all of the barrels empty. Vorwulf ordered the guild apprentices (consisting of his and Grom’s protégés; Zrasknor and Og respectively) to use his Bottle of Endless water to fill an empty hogshead, two barrels and a cask with water and store them in the rear storeroom of the Rat later putting the hogshead on top of the trapdoor that lead to the cellar “for security reasons”. Vor still wasn’t sure how the thieves that stole the money from the chests had gotten in. Grom was inspecting the chests in the “secret vault” in the cellar and cast Clairvoyance to try to get a better handle the identity of the thieves. He discerned it was indeed the ratlings, the Tat-Eyes, Merdna’s newest and currently dominant criminal gang. Vorwulf also checked around the cellar but was unable to find out how they got in and presumably out without anyone noticing. After spending about an hour of doing that Vorwulf gave up and went outside to retrieve his master’s bones and Bers’ corpse. Just after high noon they had a simple funeral and burned the remains of the pair in the courtyard of the Rat depositing the ashes in a couple of empty wine bottles and setting them on the shelf behind the bar. Magiia spent that time admiring her new armor. She was impatient for some “real” dragon-slaying to happen.

Jenn: “I dunno who those two people were.”

At the conclusion of the cremation ceremony Vorwulf went back to the gate to make sure everything was in order. After that he needed to find the armorer as his armor was torn to shreds (at about half its hit point total). The shaman left to see the apothecary. After they left Magiia decided to go to the Artist/Herald to order a portrait of herself that she could hang in the tavern/guild-house. She was sent by the Blackwings in Chago as a Guild Seeker, an officer meant to ensure service/product quality of guild members, but found herself hired on as a Clerk for the Merdna house. She was halfway there when she realized she had no money and thus caught up to the shaman, they were both heading the same general direction anyway, bluffing him out of 50 platinum pieces. She told him she had found “a guy selling alchemist’s fires”. With that she ran off putting in the order and having the artist do some very good sketches which painted her unfortunate visage in a favorable and somewhat unrealistic light. Grom walked into the apothecary shop and wound up with a crate of herbs that he needed to produce 30 doses of healing salve after slamming down a silver talon on the counter. He returned to the tavern first and began to grind and boil down the herbs processing them into healing salve.

Vorwulf had walked into a commotion at the gates, the guards were hallooing and very, very tense at a group that come along the Sirti Road to the West Gate. The ranger/dragon-slayer peeked through a fist-hole in the gate. He recognized the leader of the group as the druid from Fertum Vorahd that Grom had worked with for the plague cure (see The Dragonslayers II Pt.9: Rock Puncher). Vorwulf got up onto the battlements and shouted down the rowdy men seizing command he ordered them to open the gates. Once inside the druid leader introduced himself as Haldred Vezik. Vezik was Lord Vorahd’s Haldred with whom Grom had worked with to produce the plague cure (see Dragonslayers II Pt.9: Rock Puncher) for the Fertum, unfortunately the shaman never bothered to get his name. Vezik was currently acting as an agent of the Druidic Council as they were having a crisis in personnel since Siamnecca’s rebellion in the west against Chago had lured too many of their number away to the coast. With him also wrapped in green cloaks were 3 rangers acting as Druidic Marshals, an Arborean Healer named Olf (see The Dragonslayers I Pt.14: Winter at Veringer’s Field) and a familiar face Canohk the faunic Hill-Lander bard. The news that they brought was not particularly encouraging.

The undead have conquered Fort Ebernel in the Falmark but not the Fertum there and the town of Falton has strangely been spared the plague that has preceded the invasions of Blackbrow everywhere else.

Cris (Vorwulf’s player): “Oh yeah, it’s that witch there. The haunter of the swamp or something like that.” (See The Dragonslayers I Pt. 22: Into the Great Wide Open; the witch’s moniker is actually the Haunter of Witch’s Wood but it didn’t come up in game)

Jenn (Magiia’s player): “She wanted to kill everybody right?”

Gil (Grom’s player): “Yeah, why would she save everybody?”

Cris: “Her territory, they’re her people to kill.”

Gil: “Oh.”

In the Cleft-Rills region to the far east, Vorwulf’s homeland, Caer Dreyhawk has fallen and Lord Dreyhawk is feared dead meanwhile the ruins of Blackbrow were “inactive” at last word but those who have since been sent to scout it have not returned. There is a Draco-Lich dominating the crown of the hill above the Caer (a small Motte & Bailey). There was hope there still however, as there was a small resistance being led by one known only as “The Blue Hand” (see The Dragonslayers I Pt.7: Part the Seventh & Pt. 19: Black Wings). “The Black Moon is key to the undead Lord’s strategy” said Vezik. He told Vorwulf that the Druidic Council of Hirok-Nor believes that the black moon which follows the winter sun will cause an eclipse in a fortnight (2-weeks) and which will last around just under a fortnight. The black moon empowers the forces of darkness and death by its mere presence but during an eclipse they will be doubly powerful and may be reinforced by freshly “born” undead animated by the hateful powers of the Black Moon!

To Be Continued…

The group of 10 undead Arboreans continued to march towards the West Gate, these gate-breakers would soon be on the gate and the slayers knew if the gate fell the warriors on their side were both outnumbered and outclassed. It would be a slaughter. They continued to furiously battle the undead strike force that had been teleported in behind the palisades.

Magiia the Ferenoi power attacked the Bone-Lord with the axe she had taken from Bers’ corpse but the blow was parried easily. Vorwulf shot the Arborean zombie that was attacking Magiia. The undead captain, the Bone-Lord, missed Magiia with a clumsy slash of his mean-looking bone-sword. Grom directed his inferior earth elementals to slam the standing Arborean which had little effect due to the hardness of its worm-eaten body.  He then used his sling to take a shot at the “skull knight”, his bullet bouncing harmlessly from the Bone-Lord’s bone-plating. One of the sword-wielding skeletons which Magiia had just smashed down suddenly reassembled its bones and stood next to her ready to attack. The downed deadwood Arborean at the gate began to stir and stood up its body still studded with Vor’s arrows. The other slammed its club-like fists into Maggie (Magiia) whom attempted to dodge but failed. Another blow from the undead captain’s bone-blade was deflected by Maggie the amazon and an arrow from the ranger’s bow thudded into the newly (re)risen Arborean. The newly reassembled skeleton picked up its sword and stuck Maggie with a natural 20 wounding her badly; she made a recovery check to remain standing yet again. Grom sent his elementals to grapple the Arborean at the gate while he shot another sling-stone at the skull of the remaining sword-skelly cracking its skull a good one. Maggie struck the sword-skelly smashing it to pieces sending its cracked skull flying out into the snow. She parried another blow from the Bone-Lords blade and the Arborean that had slammed her earlier went for another but missed completely. The other undead Arborean broke free from the grip of the elementals. Vor put an arrow in the Arborean that was attacking Maggie and another in the one at the gates just before it smashed another hole in them. Grom used his sling to shoot Maggie a healing potion which she easily caught.

The amazon downed the potion after backing out of the reach of her foes. Vorwulf continued to shoot the deadwood Arborean at the gate and Grom turned his attention towards the oncoming gate-breakers as they drew too near for comfort. He called down lightning upon their heads splintering wood and blackening their bark-skins but not dropping a single one of the five he managed to hit. His elementals continued to harry the deadwood zombie at the gate. The Bone-Lord followed the Ferenoi and continued his assault, she easily parried his blows. The Arborean that had been fighting with Maggie, with the Dragon-Blood Warrior out of the way, moved to the gates ready to begin battering them down from the inside. Vor knocked one of his magic arrows, an ice-steel frost-burst arrow, and shot it into the Arborean readying to bash at the gates. Frost burst over its fire-blackened body then Magiia shattered him to splinters with a powerful blow from her axe. The shaman tried to cast another Call Lightning spell but failed but his elementals held fast the last Arborean on their side of gate. The bone-knight swung at Magiia again but she was able to parry him yet again. Vor shot the still-standing Arborean and the amazon hacked into the Bone-Lord whom struck her in a simultaneous attack. He came out the worse. Vor drew his bow again and the bowstring snapped. Grom pulled out a potion of Greater Fireball, essentially an arcane grenade, and used his sling to great effect launching the weapon at the nearing gate-breakers severely damaging 9 of the 10. Vorwulf pulled the longbow from his back and shot at the deadwood Arborean missing it by a mile.

The gate-breakers were now in charging distance of the West Gate. Vorwulf activated the Ring of Orbs spell on one of his many magic rings and launched the acid orb at the “skeleton knight” doing little damage. Magiia power attacked the Bone-Lord who “simuled” her again but she smashed him down the second before his blow could land. Meanwhile across the battlefield the general of the Blackbrow army, one of the two remaining of the three disciples (see The Dragonslayers II: Pt. 5 & Pt.6), was busy trying to cast a spell that would devastate the archers along the top of the palisades, fortunately for all he failed his casting check. Back behind the gate the grappled Arborean broke free and the Bone-Lord leapt back up from the ground worse for the wear but completely reassembled.

Grom: “Oh! Hey! I just remembered I have that magic rod of Quicksand!”

The shaman whipped out an electrum rod from his bag and used one of its charges. The ground directly in front of the gate in a 75 ft radius instantly turned into a slushy quagmire catching all of the gate-breakers whom immediately began to sink, the archers and javelineers on the wall were quick to take advantage. The gate-breakers were toast. Vorwulf launched the fire orb from his ring of orbs which were rotating about his person at the Bone-Lord again dealing little damage. Magiia struck at the lone Arborean cutting it down for the last time. Grom slung a stone at the undead captain doing no damage and Vor followed with a magic alloy arrow which did deal significant damage to it. Magiia followed that up with a blow that knocked it down again. Vorwulf, seeing the fight was now in their favor and under the control of the Dragon-Blood Warrior and the shaman pulled out his spyglass and turned his eye to the enemy line.

He could see the force was being led by a disciple of Blackbrow, a mage (necromancer) dressed in a crimson robe with a red silk hood over his head painted with a black skull on the face and he could see another commander a vampire in bronze armor and a black cloak appearing as a pair of bat-wings levitating above the heads of the man force. The disciple was surrounded by 6 deadwood Arboreans, the vampire had 10 wudu zombies and 10 skeleton warriors beneath him. There was also a lich fighter with the same behind him and a force of 25 soldiers in bronze plate and well-armed beneath the banners of Poisonwood, mercenaries. The line was marching towards the gates. So Vorwulf activated the Thunder-Arrow ability on his longbow launching a storm of crackling arrows composed of pure electricity towards the enemy line which rained down on their heads exploding with the crack of thunder. The disciple halted his forces and pulled them back probably in an effort to get them out of spell range.

Gil (Grom’s player): “Their pulling back? Really?”

Cris (Vorwulf’s player): “Yeah they don’t know what we got.”

Gil: “And they can’t get across to the gate.”

Magiia finished smashing the Bone-Lord to dust after he raised one more time, his magic bone-sword crumbled with the rest of him. Vorwulf took back to his spyglass. After a few seconds he passed it to the shaman. Grom could see the enemy army was staying put; it appeared that they were waiting for something.

Jenn: “Aw, no.”

Cris: “They did have a dragon with them.”

Cris [to me, the GM]: “That runner never came back did he?”

I acknowledged that he did not.

The 20 men along the battlements were cheering after finishing off the gate-breakers with arrows and javelins and were in high spirits some roaring taunts over the palisade they definitely believed they could take on any enemy at that point. The slayers all laughed, they knew better.

Vorwulf was contemplating going back to “the rat” to fetch the superior quality arbalests that they had for dragon-slaying to reinforce the gate-defenses when he and Magiia heard and felt something heavy moving possibly stomping about. They all heard the unmistakable roar of a dragon ripping through the air from the city center. Vorwulf took back his spyglass from the shaman and directed it towards the city center able to see over almost all of the buildings, most were a single story after all, from the battlements. He could see what appeared to be a zombie dragon. He tried but couldn’t quite identify what type it had been in life, it was fighting with the sheriff, his deputies and the Achaánal warriors. The druid tree in the town center was acid blackened and bubbling puddles of acid pocked the site of the battle, a few dead warriors lay strewn about. The fighters seemed to have just retreated to cover most seemed to be terrified and/or nauseated.

The wind was howling now and the snowfall was getting heavier. Vorwulf dismissed the power of the Ring of Orbs and then rubbed some Oil of Mend over his armor and activated his Boots of Haste. The shaman used his healing touch on Magiia and she donned the chain mail she had taken from Bers’ corpse. They also finally got around to letting her know that the helmet was magic and had the ability of Shield on it.

Gil: “Man guys, I’m out of spells, that’s it for the day.”

Grom pulled out his Mace of Supernatural Power.

The Blackwings abandoned the palisades and ran towards the city center. After several minutes, Vor waited to engage the dragon until the others caught up to him, they made it to where their quarry was and charged it as soon as they got the chance. It spat a gout of acid at them which Vorwulf was able to evade and the other two dodged. They chopped the zombie dragon down in record time. Every time that it had rose back up they simply hacked it back down.

Jenn: “It didn’t even get to hit anybody.”

After the dragon was done Vorwulf surveyed the area for any additional enemies. He spotted a robed shadow with one arm fleeing down an alleyway then suddenly disappearing in a flash of green. He guessed it was Zancor. He was right.

The slayers made their way back to “the rat” and delivered the arbalests to the guards on the West Gate. They found that the forces of Blackbrow were retreating from the field, for now. After that they took their leave to rest in their tavern, they had been relieved by the Achaánal clan warriors, they had lost 2 of their number but were still a formidable force (against the average mortal foe that is), who had volunteered to hold the gate while the Blackwings rested. Grom retreated to his quarters to pass out, he was utterly spent. Later in the day the snow and wind ceased and the a few breaks in the clouds let in a few golden shafts of sunlight. Vor took Magiia to the secret vault where they had stored their treasure chests in order to equip her with some more powerful items. He found two of the chests, the ones they had bashed the locks off of before trying the keys they had on the third, were light on gems and coin by about half.

Gil: “Aw! What the hell!”

Cris: “It was the ratlings.”

Gil: “What!? Really? Didn’t we pay them off!?”

Cris: “Yes. It was the ratlings. It was too much for them [to ignore].”

 

To Be Continued…

Vorwulf chopped Dead-Eye down for the second time only to have him reassemble his rotten and now badly splintered bones before he could hit the ground. Magiia power attacked Bers with her own axe but the blow was easily parried. Grom activated the Heal All ability on his helmet and restored Magiia to full health at the same time flooding the undead Bers with positive energy causing her dead flesh to suddenly rot and to ooze off of her bones. Bers swung with a powerful blow at Magiia but missed nearly throwing her sword but splattering the shaman and the Feren amazon with foul smelling slime and bits of gelatinous flesh. Vorwulf continued the duel with his former master in the alley exchanging blows one for one and taking some extra damage from the crackling purplish static that surrounded its body as he struck. Magiia landed a massive blow into the dripping corpse of her predecessor finally dropping the thing. Grom readied for the corpse to suddenly jump back up, it didn’t so Magiia began to loot the body.

GM (me): “Ya’know the armor’s gonna be foul with the juice from the corpse.”

Cris: “Aw who cares! You could just wash it off! I wouldn’t let go of a superior quality magic silver chainmail!”

Vor finally dropped the creature that had been his master the shadow-flesh all chopped away and the bones splintered. After taking the time for a breath he put Dead-Eye’s remains (with gear) into a gunny-sack. When he emerged from the alley he found that he had been left behind. The shaman had run to the west gate with Magiia following almost immediately behind following as soon as she had stowed the goopy armor and weapons looted from Bers’ corpse in her pack. She found the helmet that Bers had been wearing to be acceptable enough to don and did so while chasing after him and was now wielding the star metal shield. Vorwulf used his silver scimitar slashing the air its Dimension Door ability allowing him to step directly from the alley to the palisade above the West Gate through the dimensional gash.

The shaman and the Ferenoi ran into the runner that had been assigned to the West Gate, he was slick with sweat, his wet hair steaming. Gasping he saw and recognized them, “Oh there you are.” He huffed in relief and relayed that the other runners had been alerted to the enemy being at this gate and he took up his position near the buildings ready for orders but until then he leaned there catching his breath.

Vor was standing on the walk behind the wooden battlements over the west gate between the two timber watch towers that stood on either side of the still patchwork gate. He activated the Eyes and Ears of the Dragon ability on his magic coif as he gazed over the battlements readying his bow. He was already letting loose as Magiia and the shaman climbed the ladders to join him, the tinkling of glass which sounded as if in time with a rapid march, or charge drifted over the palisades. The first of the bottle stuffed skeletons charging the gate exploded as soon as the pair of dragon-slayers could see them. They could see there were 10 skeletons with several bottles of varying alchemical substances tied to the insides of each of their ribcages charging towards the gate. The first that Vorwulf had shot had exploded with a blinding flash splattering fire and acid in a wide radius about it setting off four others. It was easy to tell that each of those skellys packed enough punch to blow the gate sky high if even one made it to the gate. As the alchemical flames burnt out in the snow they could also see what the troops guarding the gate had been engaging were a troop of about 50 animated corpses bearing axes, hammers and shovels (nothing but workers) aimlessly meandering about occasionally striking blindly at the wooden palisades. Magiia pulled her shortbow and shot but missed as the skeletons flew towards the gate through the snow. Grom tried to cast Call Lightning but failed the magic getting away from him and causing the clouds above, through which they could still see the hideous black moon like a hole in the sky, to erupt with lightning. Vorwulf shot again nailing a single skeleton near enough the gate to rattle the battlements when it blew. Magiia shot and missed again then Grom finally got his spell off properly and blasted the last four away which were as close as the previous had been the flash lighting up the battlements as bright as day but only for an instant. They surveyed the battlefield steaming craters marked where the bomber-skeletons had been and the animated corpses which were meandering about the palisades were studded with javelins and arrows to little effect but they could see something coming in from Sirti Road. It was a group of 10 of what appeared to be zombie Arboreans marching towards the gate. Vorwulf and Magiia spotted a bright green flash in the distance behind the enemy lines beneath the war banners of Blackbrow and the mercs of Poisonwood. They both caught the flash that came an instant after behind them as did the bowmen on the palisade whom turned and began shouting.

Vorwulf: “Archers! Archers!” He pointed at the group of creatures that had just teleported in on their side of the palisade near the gate. He then changed his mind and told them to fire on the Arboreans marching towards the gate and shouted to the guardsmen to get their spears on the enemies that had just appeared on their side of the battlements. He downed a healing potion. The runner had already torn off through the snow towards the beerhall to alert the Achaánal Clan warriors that the enemy had breached the palisades.

The enemy strike force was below them where they had magically appeared in the snow not too far from the inside of the gate. The strike force consisted of two skeletons wielding superior quality longswords wearing bronze scale-mail and bearing bronze shields and two unarmed (relatively speaking) undead Arboreans all four of these being led by a slightly larger skeleton with bones grafted over it forming into a sort of grim plate-mail. This fiendish commander was wielding a jagged bladed sword seemingly carved (or sculpted) from polished bone. Grom used his magic ring which had a single use Heal All spell on it that he had bought in Chago from a brownie (a minor detail omitted from that entry; whoops) in an attempt to fortify his allies and wound the enemy. The illusion that was on the ring that had made it appear as if it were a ring of Heal All disappeared; it turned out to be just a twist of rusted wire. It was then Magiia let loose a blood-curdling Amazonian battle-cry and leapt from the palisades with a power attack her sword crashing into the leader of the undead strike force smashing him to bits. The two sword bearing skeletons slashed at the Ferenoi wounding her slightly and then the pile of plate-like bones reassembled themselves. One of the zombie Arboreans moved to the gate and prepared to begin bashing at it with its clubbing dead-wood fists the other slammed its fists into Magiia’s unarmored body. Vorwulf turned his bow to the Arborean at the gate wasting two of his Ice-Steel Frost-Burst Magic Arrows which missed their target disappearing into the snow drifts on either side of it with muted blue flashes. Grom summoned 2 inferior earth elementals which erupted from beneath the snow as semi-humanoid piles of dirt which grappled the Arborean at the gates. Magiia endured blows from the skeletons and the other Arborean. The leader struck at her with its bone sword which glowed a deep purple as it struck passing through her chain mail slicing into her flesh completely bypassing the armor and that was when her chain mail shirt suddenly rusted and disintegrated off of her body leaving her completely naked. The shaman blasted the Arborean attacking Magiia with flames and held them on the creature hoping to set its dry, dead-wood body aflame.

Magiia disarmed one of the sword wielding skeletons. Vorwulf concentrated his sights on the Arborean by the gate which was able to break free and smash a small hole into the gate before being grappled again. Grom used his healing touch on Vorwulf. The Bone-Lord, leader of the undead strike force, slashed repeatedly at Magiia whom parried desperately. Grom summoned two more inferior earth elementals and sent them at one of the sword-wielding skeletons. They easily grappled it. Vor thumped his arrows into the Arborean by the gate finally doing enough damage to drop it. Magiia smashed through one skeleton reducing it to flinders then into the other which collapsed into a pile in the snow. The Bone-Lord hit Magiia his evil blade cutting deep forcing her to make a recovery check to stay standing and conscious. Magiia didn’t know that the helmet that she was wearing had the Shield ability on it.

Jenn: “Yes I do!”

Cris: “No ya wouldn’t. None of us had chance to tell ya yet.”

The GM (me): “Nope.”

Jenn: “Damn it.”

There was Magiia facing the Bone-Lord and the lone Dead-Wood Arborean the true status of the other undead creatures unknown. She was badly wounded, dripping with sweat and blood, steaming in the snow.

Jenn: “I charged in without thinking didn’t I?”

Then the lights in the dining room went out.

The power had been knocked out for the entire neighborhood suddenly leaving us in the dark and stranding Cris’, Gil’s and Jenn’s characters in the midst of battle. It was raining. Jenn went into the living room and looked through the curtains. She said she could see lightning in the distance. All of us sat around talking, waiting for the power to come back up and when it didn’t Jenn lit some candles and we continued the game by candlelight.

To Be Continued…

There was a light snowfall as the slayers, now consisting of Grom the Shaman (played by Gil) and the Feren Dragon Blood Warrior Magiia (played by Jenn) both being led by Vorwulf the ranger/dragonslayer (played by Cris), trundled through the snow to the hall of the Elder Council seat of the authority of the civil authority of Merdna. There they were briefed on the currently unfolding situation. Achoran south of the Nirix river has fallen, Asternor north of the river overwhelmed with refugees and plague is under siege and will fall soon cut-off by a large contingent of undead troops and there was a black army of the undead on the move to Merdna accompanied by a black dragon marching under the war banner of Blackbrow (a black mailed fist gripping a white multi-pointed star against a purple field) their intentions obvious. Another banner among those forces also reveals that Blackbrow is reinforced with mercenaries from Poisonwood bearing the standard of a black scorpion entwined in the coils of a green serpent against a red field. It would be mere hours before those forces would be at the gates. Due to the battle with the trolls of Trollguard at the beginning of fall Merdna’s forces are much weakened some of which have been sent to reinforce Fertum Vorahd the seat of Furst Vorahd (sole lord of Hirok-Nor’s warrior-caste). The remaining forces within the city walls are 3 units of the Merdna Town Guard each unit consisting of 10 freeman archers (hey arrows for undead and foreigners) and 10 guardsmen (armed with shortspears, shortswords with medium wood shields, steel caps on their heads and chain mail shirts) which will be on each of the three gates to the city (the east is bordered by the city’s harbors and Mer-Lake). The Clothworker’s guild (with a force of 15 crossbow men and 20 maul-men) will be manning the south gate around which their circular two-story guild house is built around and the Wood Cutters’ guild (with a force of 15 crossbow men and 22 axe-men) will be on the south gate where their guild house sits. The sheriff of Merdna with his 9 deputies will take post at the ridge above the lakeshore by the Council House and Lord Vorahd’s Manor reinforced by 10 warriors loyal to Vorahd meant to steward his properties within the city walls. A fleet of runners will be the communication lines between the city’s defenders. The Blackwings Dragonslayers’ Guild will be defending the west gate (the Sirti road entrance), the weakest point in Merdna’s defenses where the gate is between two wood guard towers with a narrow walkway over the gate behind the palisades along with the city guard unit assigned to the same gate. It is the gate which they helped to defend against a horde of trolls and helped to repair afterwards (see The Dragonslayers II Pts. 2 & 3). There are also 12 Hill-Lander warriors of the Achaánal Clan, a Hill-Lander clan expelled from their ancestral lands somewhere to the immediate north/north-west by a Lowlander rebellion a few years ago but they have pledged their swords only if the enemy gets inside of the walls.

The slayers along with the rest of those within the town hall rushed from the meeting; the slayers to the Hopping Rat to prepare. Grom prepared some warpaint for them while Vorwulf put the manual he had been gradually working through during the long winter days with the rest of his things in his attic quarters. The first to be painted was Magiia the Feren. She was sent by the Blackwings of Chago, a member in good standing she is a native of the Feren Archipelago and racially an amazon. Her expertise in mixing up alchemical concoctions from the blood of dragons in order to give herself supernatural abilities (al ’a chemical super-soldier) is invaluable and sending her to a place where dragons are endemic in order to harvest as much raw material as she can seemed like a good idea to guildmaster Douamo at the time. The shaman painted himself last after finishing with Vorwulf, all were eager to get to the battlements. They extinguished the candles in the tavern/guild house and lit their lanterns as they marched out into the dark and cold. They were making their way along Sirti street to the west gate when Vorwulf caught a faint voice on the chill winter winds. He turned to see an old man in a beggar’s cloak waving his hand at them accompanied by another larger warrior-type completely wrapped in an old dirty hooded cloak.

“Hail friends! Where are you headed?”

Cris: *sound of disgust* “I hate this guy.”

Vorwulf recognized the old man as Zancor the one-armed. Suspicious he looked over the old necromancer’s companion. He immediately (N20) recognized the fighter for Bers’ reanimated corpse.

“Wait! I found her wandering abroad and well… I haven’t had time to return her to you guys since I had to flee Asternor before the noose tightened!” The sly old bastard got a natural 20 to bluff. Vorwulf spotted the Gauntlet of Transmutation on the old man’s hand. The two sides were eyeballing one another each unsure of what to do next.

Jenn: “Uhm. Should we be getting to the gate?”

Gil: “I guess we go to the gate then?”

Vorwulf: “We aren’t going anywhere, we’re burying Bers HERE!” He whipped out his sword. The expression on Zancor’s face hardened into a sneer as he began to step back.

Suddenly, an arrow whizzed out from an alley about a 100 ft. away behind the necromancer and the zombie-creeper Bers imbedding itself in the snow at Vorwulf’s feet. He recognized the arrow and the decayed fletching of his former master, Dead-Eye.

Grom unleashed his Primal Scream catching zombie Bers and Zancor the necromancer in the cone of frightening sound. Blood erupted from the old man’s ears and nose and fear replaced the evil sneer. The half-frozen slab of rotten meat that had been Bers was unaffected. The zombie-creeper swung a powerful but clumsy blow with its great axe at the shaman fortunately missing him. Magiia moved in slashing at Bers but her blow was deflected off of the zombie’s star metal shield. Zancor fled into the increasing snowfall disappearing from sight. Vorwulf slashed at Bers his blow glancing of her shield. A bone white arrow came shrieking from the alley a hundred feet away nailing Vor. The shaman backed off shaken by the scream that blasted him from the dreadful magic arrow and with bleeding ears cast Dispel Fear on himself. Bers nailed the amazon with her axe opening a nasty wound the blood steamed as it colored the snow. The zombie parried the amazon’s retort.

Gil: “Man! That guy [referring to Dead-Eye] is gonna keep nailing us!”

Cris: “Damn,damn. I know I know. Well, it has to be like this.”

Vorwulf took off streaking towards the position of his former master. He spotted the cloaked shape duck back into the alley. The battle in the snow between the two Blackwings and what was once Bers, now zombie-creeper minion of Blackbrow, raged on. Magiia suffered several deep wounds but finally managed to disarm Bers whom simply pulled her back up weapon the superior quality silver-bladed great sword Bers had originally looted from the ruins of the tower of Blackbrow (see The Dragonslayers I: Pt. 6). Grom shot a stream of fire at the creature forcing it to keep its shield raised against his flames as it battled against the amazon the silver chainmail of the zombie absorbing some her strongest blows with ease. Meanwhile in the alley Vorwulf was dueling his master. Vorwulf wielded a cutlass and longsword and his former master wielded the bowie knife and longsword combination that had been his trademark in life. They traded several blows nearly matched in sword skill. Vorwulf’s blows sliced into a pitch black substance which seemed to flesh the bones which he could feel the blades ring off of from every blow.

Grom unleashed blast after blast of Wind Rush at zombie Bers whom was forced to dodge which she did easily. This allowed Magiia to move out of her reach and snatch up the battle axe and drink a healing potion, she was badly wounded.

Vorwulf had finally hacked away all of the black, shadowy stuff form the bones of his former master and will a couple of quick but powerful blows (double Natural 20’s; go figure) shattered the bones of the grinning skeleton that was left. It dropped into a pile of rags and yellow-grey flinders. He stepped over to catch a glance at the battle in the street in time to see the shaman call down lightning onto the head of the zombie damaging it horribly. Vorwulf sucked down a healing potion, he too was badly wounded.

Grom healed the amazon with his shamanic touch who had by now moved close to him. She redoubled her efforts at chopping down Bers with her own axe. Jenn (Magiia’s player) sighed in relief when Bers finally fell.

Jenn: “Finally! Yaay!”

Gil: “Alright! Yeah!”

Cris just sighed.

Dead-Eyes bones leapt back to life, reassembled themselves and prepared to continue the duel to the death with Vorwulf. The brawny (and well-equipped) corpse of Bers rose still wielding its silver sword and star metal shield.

Cris: “It’s what they do [in response to the expressions on Jenn’s & Gil’s faces]. This is why I hate undead. Damn ghoulies.”

The Blackwings heard the sounds of battle from the direction of the west gate, shouting, ringing steel, twanging bowstrings, and splintering wood.

To Be Continued…

Well we’ve come to the third, and possibly final, part of the Dragon-Slayers campaign. Bers, the last of the original pair of characters from the first campaign has been killed by a Death Demon sent by the Lich of Blackbrow (a natural 1 will do it every time) leaving Vorwulf the human ranger/dragon-slayer as the head of the slayers and top ranked of the Blackwing of the dragonslayers guild in Hirok-Nor. Grom the shaman endures and the new kid on the block is a Dragon-Blood Warrior (an alchemical super-soldier and a specialist class found in the upcoming Character Codex IV) Feren (amazon) played by Jenn.

The Black Moon of Eu is high and winter is in full swing with drifts of snow in the streets as high as the thatch. They have yet to be able to get into and read the Tome of Dragon-Slaying, Grom is still having nightmares of the red dragon that obliterated his people and a giant glowing mushroom, and there is a 10,000 gold piece bounty on Xanto the Wasp’s head placed by the Black Wings Dragon Slayers’ Guild of Chago. The latter information related to them by a messenger before the first snow.

Well, this concludes this brief introduction. My next dragon-slayer post will begin with the first session as they follow the messenger into the freezing night.

Our trio of heroes found their selves gathered around a table in the Harbor Tavern in Asternor two days after the battle on the delta their weary faces masked in yellow candlelight. The army had left earlier in the day, earlier than they had told Bers and Vorwulf due to Lord Vorahd wounds not healing. Grom the shaman had diagnosed that the satyr’s ghost was at work against Vorahd and realized that it would fade into the astral plane every sunrise and emerge each dusk to prevent his wounds from healing. Grom had also run into the faunic bard Canohk accompanied by a rather large arborean and the druid from fertum Vorahd mourning the loss of marshal Bullom Rock-Puncher. It was then he realized that they meant to bury the dead under stone cairns and then he went on a rant trying to convince them to burn the bodies as “Blackbrow was on the move”. It was at this time that a tired looking warrior pushed a jack full of wine into his chest which he gulped down and then promptly passed out from exhaustion rather than the wine. The next thing he knew, he told the other two slayers, was that he was being carried on a litter through the woods. He ended up having to guide the army to Asternor as they had decided to travel overland back to Merdna but had become lost.
While collapsed by the treasure chests Bers and Vorwulf had suffered another nightmare from the fighter lich (see the Dragonslayers II Pt. 5) and saw in the nightmare the black disc high in the sky which they now recognized as a black moon with a vast army of undead marching even in the day before Dead-Eye, their former companion now presumably undead, loosed his arrows on them which prompted them to suddenly awake. They let the shaman know that their chests were intact but they had to leave them in the lair. The pair had flown during the night using Bers’ Cape of Bat Flight along the river in search of the ships eventually finding them safely moored in Asternor. They rented rooms and went to Vorwulf’s to make plans for the recovery of their treasure. Bers & Vor revealed to the shaman that they had taken the Gate Stones and a manual that the trolls had been using when they interrupted them. When Bers and Vor had arrived at the Harbor Tavern they found the shaman drinking and eating with Zancor the one-armed. Vor dusted himself off as he entered in an effort to appear “all tough” and began bluffing Zancor telling him that the “troll-guy” had taken their stuff. Zancor had easily seen through the ruse and excused himself after shooting a glare at the ranger/dragonslayer. After they had decided on a plan of action they all retired to their respective beds.
The slayers’ sleep was fitful plagued again by the fighter-lich and the visions of the black moon and an undead army.
Come morning after finding there were no mounts or even beasts of burden available for rent or purchase and after buying 1,500 gold pieces worth of rope and tackle they had decided to jump on the wagons contracted by Lord Vorahd to take him, his jarl and housecarls back to Merdna. By late afternoon they were back in Merdna and had already paid the wagoneers 1 gold talon apiece to take them to the top of Hirok the following morning before they went back to their tavern the Hopping Rat. As soon as they stepped in the door they found a messenger waiting for them from the Blackwings Guild. They went to the cellar to meet with him and received word and a warrant for the apprehension of Xanto the Wasp as the Tome of Dragonslaying that was recovered from him turned out to be a fake. The price on his head was 10,000 gold pieces and they would have exclusive rights for 1 year, if he wasn’t apprehended (or killed) before then the guild (with the blessings of the mage guild of Chago, the Pillars of Vision) will issue an open bounty throughout the land. They agreed and went upstairs to sleep.
Bers (Played by Jen): “C’mon let’s get to the lair. I want my treasure!”
It took them a full day to travel from Merdna to the top of Hirok along the North road losing 1 wagon to a mishap with a boulder and a broken axel, the driver and the oxen were fine however. They set up the rig above the gaping hole which opened into the high chamber of the former dragon’s lair and through that floor down into a massive water-cavern. It was after the rig was all set around noon that they noticed the black moon low on the western horizon. Basically they all shrugged. Grom cast a spell on himself enabling him to fly for a brief time (Nature’s Ability) and took the end of the rope and flew down into the passage into the treasure room where the chests rested. He landed on the precipice of the passage, a 20 ft. drop to the dark water behind him, and lit a torch. He saw something step from the darkness about 20 ft. in front of him.
It: “I’m gonna skin you alive and laugh in your face while you scream!”
The creature stank of rotting flesh steeped in brimstone and appeared as a winged, horned emaciated creature whose blackened flesh appeared to drip from its partially exposed bones. He recognized a demon when he saw one. Its claws slashed at him narrowly missing and he stepped to the side and let loose his Primal Scream which alerted the other two who waited above for a tug on the rope but which did not have as much of an effect on the demon as the shaman had hoped. Vorwulf immediately went to grap the rope and rappel down but fumbled (a Natural 1) and fell straight into the water taking no damage from the 100 ft. (but probably more) fall arcing his body into a perfect dive (Cris rolled a Natural 20 to save). Bers successfully grabbed the rope but as Grom was still only holding the other end she found herself falling into the black water below and sinking quickly in its depths. The shaman got a severe rope burn across the palm. Vorwulf activated his boots of water walking and grabbed Bers on his way to the surface.
Grom tried to push the demon over the cliff and into the drink using a Windrush spell twice, unsuccessfully before Bers and Vorwulf were able to make it to his side. The demon had unleashed a couple of blasts of black lightning at him hitting him causing his flesh to whither where it touched him passing through his armor proving it useless. The demon backed away using its leathery wings and cast a death spell which Grom and Vor were able to withstand easily, Bers however rolled a Natural 1 and dropped dead. Vorwulf shot the creature but did little damage even with a magic frost arrow and quickly switched to his swords. Grom kept dodging the monsters’ attacks as it kept flying in and focusing its attacks on him. Bers’ corpse sprung to unlife before the end of the first round and swung its axe at Vorwulf but missing and Grom blasted the demon with another wind-rush but he failed to take into account that it had gotten in between him and Vorwulf. The ranger was slammed into the wall opposite Grom and then slammed by Bers’ corpse before he and the newly undead Bers fell into the water. The corpse went under but Vorwulf landed on the surface due to his magic boots. He used his cutlass to dimension door back to the shaman’s side.
It took another 2 rounds to take out the death demon with the shaman sticking to a strategy of dodge-everything and Vorwulf getting the deathblow which caused the monster to explode in a storm of purplish bolts of negative energy. The surviving pair of dragon-slayers were somewhat hurt and in shock at the loss of their companion.
Gill (Grom’s Player): “Aww man, our heavy-hitters’ gone!”
They spent the next 3 days recovering the chests and another to make it back safely to Merdna. They set the chests in the cellar and contemplated hiring guards and getting security installed. Over the next few days Grom crafted a Totem of Spirit Protection for Lord Vorahd solving the satyr-ghost dilemma and the pair prepared for winter. The surviving slayers took note, kind of, of black moon as it inched painfully but steadily along its path in the sky day and night from west to east nearing its zenith just before the first winter storm.
Sometime later long after the first snowstorm of the season and on the eve of another in the dead of freezing night a messenger beating on the door of the Hopping Rat roused the duo from a dead and strangely un-haunted sleep delivering to them a message.
Messenger: “Lord Vorahd demands your presence at his manor now! Achoran has fallen and Asternor is under siege. A sizeable force is on the move north along the road and they have a DRAGON with them!”

The End of the Second Dragon-Slayers Campaign (played between January and July 2014).

The battle was over and the field was aflame, the moans of the dying barely audible over the roaring fires. The slayers had begun to fall back with the Westlander forces that were dragging what companions they could grab with them. Vorwulf glanced over the field as he and Bers retreated. He caught sight of a pair of wounded and barely moving lumberjacks through the flames their gory broadaxes next to them. He ran over to see what he could do. The first he came upon was lying on his back grasping a severe stomach wound. Vorwulf recognized him as Forgax the bad-tempered foreman of the woodcutters. He went to grab the elder man by the shoulders.

Forgax (begging Vorwulf and motioning to the other woodsman): “Wait. Wait. Check on poor Arik.”

Vorwulf went to the other man who was considerably younger and lying face down. He confirmed the younger was dead and when he turned to take Forgax up, he was dead as well.

Vorwulf: “Damn. Oh well.”

Back at the far south end of the delta Bers and Vorwulf met beck up with each other at Lord Vorahd’s pavilion. They saw the shaman assisting the healers with the wounded while at the same time trying to cook a stew under the nose of the camp cook. The pair left eh shaman to his work. When they turned they saw Lord Vorahd being drug on a litter into his tent with a gaping belly wound and rent armor.

Cris (Vorwulf’s Player): “S#*t. I’ll give him one of my healing potions. Does that help?”

The potion helped somewhat but seemed a bit ineffective though it stopped the bleeding. Lord Vorahd immediately gave the pair orders to scout out the lair and authority to take along a few men. Vorahd wanted to make sure they would not be ambushed while they were still so vulnerable. The pair of slayers decided to forego snatching up any “peons” and decided to double time it to Old Sawback’s Lair and from there try to prowl inside. They decided to eat some of the shaman’s soup before setting out on the mission. Grom had made the soup from the frogs he found on the battlefield, the ones that used to be trolls.

After about an hour’s travel they made it under cover of darkness to the mouth of the lair to where Vorwulf had tracked the retreating trolls, the trickling of the creek water which flowed from the cave being the only sound. The bright orange of the flames of the battlefield loomed angrily behind them past the night-black pines.  Both the slayers could see the giant troll commandant trying to stay hidden just inside of the cave entrance probably prepared for a surprise attack as soon as the slayers attempted to enter. Bers used her magic boots to kick a boulder at the giant troll but missed.

3 large trolls armed with two-handed hammers and wearing scale mail armor, wolf-skin mantles on their backs, and steel caps on their heads. Vorwulf dropped his bow and pulled out his heavy great axe and Bers repeatedly swung power attack after power attack with her axe. It took only 2 rounds to bring down all 4 trolls. After they were all down Vorwulf emptied a jug of acid he had purchased for such an occasion over the twitching and fast regenerating corpses.

After their easy victory over the last troll unit that had taken the field they were trying to remember where the treasure chamber to the lair was and how to get there as the lair was by no means small, it was a twisty complex of caves with a subterranean river running through it. After a short while they just decided to use Bers’ Cape of Bat-Flight, as it was still night, to fly to the top of Hirok where they knew the opening to the central shaft of the lair was located. They had hoisted the 3 massive treasure-laden chests through it before burying them under the shadows of the broken towers; ruins at the far end of Hirok. This took them about an hour to maneuver up to the shaft at the top of the hill. Once inside, however, they easily maneuvered their way to the entrance of the inner lair, a passageway lit with hundreds of oil lamps set into the niches in the smoothed rock walls. They landed on the cliff’s edge which dropped to the dark subterranean river below. At the end of the massive vaulted passage where a pair of equally titanic polished gold doors bearing the image of a ridge-back dragon behind which was the treasure chamber. However four 10 ft tall suits of animated armor bearing the twisted faces of roaring trolls stood in a line before the doors, from behind them the pair could hear chanting.

The slayers turned invisible using their cloaks of Invisible to Sight and tried to sneak past the orange-steel constructs. As soon as they got within 100 ft of the orange-armor the constructs began to advance on them. The constructs were armed with shields and spiked maces made of the same strange metal as themselves. The pair rushed to meet the lumbering things with Vorwulf peppering one of them with his nega-steel arrows then switching to his great axe when he finally closed. Bers rushed in swinging wildly and in the second round dropped it to slip on her Gauntlet of Transmutation in an effort to reduce one of the constructs to a puddle of slime, but it made its save easily against the gauntlet’s magic. Vor became surrounded by three of the four while Bers bashed away at the one dueling with her in the third round. The tide turned when Bers shattered the one she was fighting and ran to assist Vor who was taking it from all sides but steadily wearing down two of his metallic foes. By the end of the battle which lasted for 5 rounds Vor was somewhat worse for the wear but Bers was only slightly scratched. After guzzling some healing potions they noticed that one of the great double-doors was slightly ajar. They peaked inside.

They saw a pile of gold and other riches disappear with a flash at the center of a circle of roughly hewn gemstones while a nearby half-troll mage chanted in front of an open tome. 3 latter-generation trolls each bearing a large chest (an Orange-Red Metal Chest, a Mother of Pearl Chest and a Titanium Chest with Quartz Hardware; the slayers’ buried treasure) were approaching the circle. Looking on the proceedings were 2 young brownfang dragons, 2 very tough looking brown-skinned dragonsauri and a giant creature which looked like a cross between a brownfang dragon and a troll with a large tome dangling form a chain around its neck.

Cris (Vorwulf’s Player): “Aw man! We can’t take all those guys on! We’re wounded on top of it!”

Jen (Bers’ Player): “Maybe I should just use the mallet!”

They waffled a bit finally deciding on using the Mallet of Mass Harm to even the odds possibly netting an easy victory reducing its remaining charges to 1. Bers struck it on the ground and the latter-generation trolls, the half-troll mage and the pair of young brownfangs shrieked and fell dead onto the floor. Bers activated the shield ability on her helm and charged through the gap in the doors and came face to face with a dragonsaurus it snapped at her but missed. She swung at it with her axe wounding it.

The big creature, the so-named God-King of Trollguard, ran at her and stomped on her dissipating the shield spell on her. The second dragonsaurus charged her and snatched her in its jaws, she had rolled a natural 1, and then proceeded to rend her whipping its head and her side to side savagely. Vor, still just outside of the doors, activated his Boots of Fleet of Foot. When Vorwulf charged in Bers retreated to drink down a Potion of Heal as she was very badly wounded saved only by a successful luck roll from instant death. Bers rejoined the fight and the pair battled it out with the pair of dragonsauri and the God-King next to the double-doors. By the end of the first round they had taken out one of the dragonsaurs and leaving the other badly wounded and dying. Vorwulf, using his extra attacks granted by the Fleet of Foot ability, drank down a Potion of Might essentially turning himself into a superhero.

The second round saw Vor a whirlwind of activity delivering power-attack after power-attack and Bers downing two more potions in order to stay in the game while the God-King of Trollguard kept trying to stomp them into jelly forcing them to dodge repeatedly. Bers dropped the second dragonsaurus. The third round of battle began with the God-King missing with a power-claw strike at Bers and her retaliating with a power-chop with her axe and Vorwulf following with a slash of his paired cutlasses. The God-King then made a stomp at Vorwulf who rolled a Natural 1 to dodge the monster’s giant foot.

Fortunately a luck roll saved him, barely though he took enough damage to be very near death. Bers took down the monster with a power-attack dealing just enough damage to drop it. They doused its corpse in the remaining acid they carried with them and collapsed giddy from exhaustion and loss of blood against their treasure chests.

 

To Be Continued…

In the creaking, smoking ruin of the Grey Fort the dragon-slayers after dealing with the berserker ambush and their compatriot’s betrayal began to poke around. Vorwulf checked the east stairs for stability and slowly walked up to check the mezzanine from the steps. He found the wood of the walkway that rimmed the main hall had many, too many, loose and rotten floorboards though he did spy three hallways stretching to the rear of the longhouse. They decided it was a good idea to just go back to the ships. The shaman, Grom, used his magic helm to cast Heal All and they made the trek back to the ships.

Reaching the lead ship just before dawn with the setting of the great purple moon decided to slip under-decks for a 4-hr nap after debriefing with Lord Vorahd. The next stop would be the determined battlefield of Delta Glade between the Estnik River and the creek which runs from Old Sawback’s Lair. The next thing our intrepid trio is aware of is that they’re shaken awake by a scrawny, sweat-drenched sailor.

Gil (Grom’s Player): “Aww man! That’s not 8 hours is it? I’m not gonna get all my spells back am I?”

Cris (Vorwulf’s Player): “Nope.”

They were told that Lord Vorahd wanted to see them and so they walked still battle weary to his pavilion. On the way from the ships they saw the wood-cutters climbing and tying ropes to the tall pines scattered on the southern flanks of the battlefield and chopping the trunks most-of-the-way through. They were dumping barrels of lamp oil on the trees. The rest of the army was clearing the brush from the southern half of the field. They passed between the Housecarl guards and into the pavilion.

Lord Vorahd stood before them behind a heavy wooden table a map spread out over its surface. Next to him stood the Jarl (no one ever asked this guy’s name so I never gave him one, go figure). Marshal Rock-Puncher was on the field supervising its preparation which needed to be done before dusk. Vorahd’s camp was confident the heavy-trolls whom seemed to be proof against the daylight had been significantly diminished by the slayers and so would not try to ambush them with a full force behind them.

The battle plan according to Lord Vorahd was that he would command the housecarls and hold the right flank with the farmers with their javelins behind a makeshift bulwark of logs and earth at center. Jarl Wernoll (there he has a name now) will command the warriors from Fertum Vorahd taking up the left flank. Marshal Rock-Puncher will command the handful of warriors from Marnez and serve as skirmishers on the front lines with cover from the farmers’ javelins. The woodsmen will take positions in the cover on either side of the field where they will ignite and pull down the pines on the charging trolls. The slayers would reinforce the farmers in the center.

Jen (Bers’ Player): “Aww. I wanna be where the action is!”

Vorwulf felt something tug at his sack of holding and something else vibrate within, it was where he stuck the claymore looted from the satyr’s sarcophagus that he had picked up after Kyr had been changed into a snail.

Cris (Vorwulf’s Player): “Aww f**k it!”

Vorwulf opened the sack and the shaman with his spirit sight saw the semi-transparent image of a powerfully built satyr with blind-white eyes bulging from their sockets and black lips curled back revealing bleeding gums and a swollen tongue lolling loosely hanging from its slack jaws as flecks of bloody foam drooled to the floor in long strands reaching into the now open sack. The others in the room could only see the sword rise from the sack and swing at Lord Vorahd whom stood frozen in terror as he seemed to recognize the blade.

Vorwulf jumped in between the blade and Lord Vorahd taking a defensive stance. Grom attempted to exorcise the spirit but failed and Bers struck at the sword shattering it with her axe thus ending the threat. Vorwulf apologized and gave Vorahd the golden flamberg that had been Kyr’s weapon (he had taken that also) as a gift. The jarl guided the slayers from the tent and shed a little light on what had just happened. He told them that the claymore was a recognizable weapon with a reputation that was the owned by a Satyr lord whom had ruled over Hirok-Nor in Lord Vorahd’s grandfather’s time. The satyr-lord had been poisoned by Vorahd’s grandfather subjecting him to a slow and agonizing death. On the day of his death it is said that his apparition had appeared in the hall of Vorahd and laid a curse on the Westlander lord Afterwards the newly self-declared Lord of Hirok-Nor attacked the Grey Fort and the surrounding village laying waste to it and slaughtering every man, woman and child sparing not even the livestock. Shortly thereafter the elder Lord Vorahd fell ill and lingered for a decade, insane and raving until he mercifully passed. The Grey Fort and the land it sits on has been shunned ever since, the tale of the Satyr-Lord of Hirok-Nor and the Vorahd Clan just a tale to scare children.

The slayers shrugged in unison and decided to layout their bedrolls in the shade of the pavilion and sleep until dusk.

Come dusk the slayers found themselves in the center position of the battle line. Bers’ axe was ready in line with the farmers. Vorwulf and the shaman remained a few paces behind them ready with arrows and magic. Several open barrels of lamp oil were among the farmers into which they were dipping their javelins and lighting them in the braziers blazing behind the punji-stick studded logs. The great purple moon rose in east as the sun set and the silver/white moon was high in the darkening sky. At Vorahd’s command the warriors beat their shields roaring as they did so and others blew their horns. It wasn’t long since the last rays of sunlight disappeared that a troll scout unit broke the north tree-line and the leading gigantic earth-skinned mountain troll blew his horn.

Another troll unit with a similar mountain-troll with stony skin but armored in half-plate and bearing a serpentine bladed great sword followed by 3 trolls armored in scale mail bearing hammers emerged, obviously the commander of the troll side. Bers’ knuckles creaked on her ax. Three dragonsauri smashed through the tree-line and roaring charged the Westlander line splitting between Marshal Rock-Puncher’s unit, Lord Vorahd and his Housecarls, and Jarl Wernoll’s warriors. Vorwulf got an arrow off and wounded the dragonsuarus that was among Lord Vorahd’s men. Grom unleashed lightning which exploded from out of the sky and crashed into the troll commandant dealing little damage. The roars of dragons echoed over the battlefield and from over the tree-line flew in 3 young brown fang dragons hauling long chains with spiked iron balls on the ends. They immediately strafed the Westlander line with fire with one scoring a direct hit on the farmers and Bers.

The farmers withered before the dragon-fire and the barrels of lamp oil exploded in a blast of flame and splinters. Bers ran backward towards her companions screaming and wreathed in flaming oil. Vorwulf shot an arrow at the nearest dragon and scored a hit wounding it badly. It circled back around and engaged him directly. Another unit of trolls broke the tree line which were wearing chain mail and bearing war-hammers. The pines on either side of the Westlander lines burst into flames and were pulled to the ground exploding in a shower of flames and white sparks putting a barrier between the trolls and the Westlanders and isolating the dragonsauri already engaged. Rock Puncher met claw, fang and steel with stone smashing knuckles. Grom began summoning small fire elementals and sending them out to engage the trolls. Bers eventually stopped dropped and rolled (she kept rolling Natural 1’s to put herself out). A unit of heavies smashed through already ruined north tree line crushing it flat and began marching towards Lord Vorahd’s unit. The rhythmic clank of the heavy-trolls’ orange full-plate could be heard over the roaring of flames, beasts, dragons and general cacophony of battle. Following them was yet another troll unit consisting of a single mountain troll, 2 more heavies and 3 trolls in chainmail with serpentine swords.

The second round began with Vorwulf avoiding the ice-spit of the Brown-Fang Dragon which was flying at him felling it with a single arrow and then having to dive out of its way as its corpse crashed into the ground engulfing the slayers in a blinding spray of dirt. A dragonsaurus charged through the flames and swirling dust clouds to attack the slayers, Bers chopped it down with 3 power-swings. Grom could hear the screams of the woodsmen as the troll forces met them from beyond the flames and knew that they were through. Vorwulf drew his bow to try to send an arrow into the dragonsaur that was at the moment snapping at Lord Vorahd but his string snapped. He threw the useless bow down and drew his cutlasses. Rock-Puncher’s skirmishers fought a single dragonsaur to a standstill among the roaring fire. The housecarls were swinging their bearded axes wildly against the trolls that charged them as the dragonsauri broke off and continued on. The battle raged for a total of rounds (mass combat) with the Westlanders barely holding on and the slayers making all the difference.

Near the end of the battle the slayers finished off the last two dragonsauri which had leapt over the flaming logs (one of which was angered by Grom slinging a stone at it) and Grom reduced two of the nearby troll units to frogs and rats. They also witnessed Rock-Puncher and the Marnez warriors fall but taking the unit of heavies with them with the druidic-marshal setting the last troll-corpse ablaze holding the burning fagot with bloodied hands before he dropped. They saw Vorahd and his housecarls advance to the far end of the field to engage the troll commandant but lost sight of him through the flames. The troll commandant retreated shortly thereafter. Bers had killed all 3 dragonsauri, Vorwulf had killed all 3 Brown-Fangs and a Heavy Troll. Grom wiped out 2 untis of trolls and took down a Heavy Troll. The day was won but Vorahd’s army had paid dearly for it.

The battlefield was ablaze and the dead and dying were scattered between the flames, the large corpses of trolls sizzled in the fires. Vorahd had lost the farmer/javelineers and the woodsmen, 30 men between these two units. He had also lost 4 of his 8 housecarls and Rock-Puncher and his skirmishers. Of the 30 fertum warriors he had lost but a handful. The troll forces were all but wiped out.

The slayers surveyed the battle field for any forgotten foes and when they were satisfied they fell back with the remaining Westlanders.

 

To Be Continued…