Tag Archives: Arvan

Necromancing Xuun PT.7: Golden Wind, Silver Gauntlet

It was night, the white moon was full and bright its light dancing on the black waters of theHoping for a Templar blood-moon lagoon-bay. Rows stirred by the blackguard Dravor sloshed in the water as the dark trio made their way towards the three-mast lugsail Templar ship, the Golden Wind. The trio was about to take action for Korvo-Doom against the Hyvalian Theocracy having just barely avoided some town guards on the night-watch.

Dravor had been extremely nervous at their appearance as if the authorities may want him. For what exactly was unknown to Jíen. As the guards neared them the young necromancer threw a Gnat Swarm their way and thus distracted, the trio beat it to the harbor. For the meantime, Dravor found himself rowing a rented boat which cost an additional silver-piece to keep its owner’s lips sealed. As he rowed he wondered why he hadn’t just murdered the man.

As the Ivoran-style flat-bottom row boat clunked lightly to the planks of the Golden Wind’s stern the team decided to go over the plan one more time. Jíen had failed in his part as they simply couldn’t track down a sailor from the ship. So, it was the assassin, Trantox that would have to silently scale the ship’s side and slip onboard killing the man on watch and then lowering a rope for the other two.

Jenn (Trantox’s Player): “Wait. I have to climb?”

Me & Gil (Jíen’s & Dravor’s Players respectively): “YES.”

Jenn: “Uhm. My Climb skill sucks. So…”

Me: “Let me see that, um, WHAT!? It’s at negative TWO!”

Jenn: “Well yeah. My strength sucks. But my DEX ROCKS!”

So, Trantox pulled out his trusty grappling-hook and promptly tossed it into the water unintentionally with a profound splash. The trio froze and listened, they could hear the muttering of at least a handful of sailors. Suddenly, a head popped over the edge of the railing and before the sailor could yell Jíen cast Gnat Swarm on him. While the sailor swatted at the flies sputtering Dravor rowed the skiff to the opposite side of the boat.

Sailor: “Hey! They’re over here! I see ‘em!”

Another Hyvalian thrust the business end of a crossbow over the railing and shot at Trantox. The assassin barely dodged the bolt. The deck bell began furiously ringing and the trio thought it best to abort their mission especially since none of them could swim.

Cris (the GM): “What? Really? None of you can swim? Huh.” He jotted something down in his notes.

Fortunately the trio had a wide lead over the other two boats which were in pursuit that first had to be lowered from the ship into the water. The trio was already dissolving into the filthy alleys of Xuun before the theocrats were halfway to shore.

Next morning the dark trio met back up at the Whiskey Troll Tavern. Dravor came to the table with some info on a couple of Templars whose morning routine was to head from the Golden Feather Inn to the Silver Gauntlet, a tavern that catered primarily to Hyvalians and a favorite of those theocrats that hadn’t given up the vice of drink.

On his way to the troll one Zarkar had approached Jíen as the man required the services of someone that could deal with “spirits”. Apparently the man was a landlord of an adobe villa which was haunted and he wanted the ghosts gone when his current tenants, a trio of adventurers, got back. It paid 25 gp and the necromancer had already promised to do the job but on the morrow. The other two weren’t particularly thrilled with that idea when Jíen  had brought it to the table and declined as “backup”.

Trantox however, was determined to seek out and eliminate his target, the Scael gladiator. His companions once again declined his plan. So in a huff the assassin got up from the table and headed for the Silver Scale. After a couple of whiskey fortified ales, Jíen and the blackguard took their leave and headed into the north-side of the city seeking the Silver Gauntlet. It would be an even two-way split on Korvo’s bounty.

It wasn’t long before the pair of miscreants with zombie-girl in tow, were skulking in the shadows of an alley that looked out onto the “good-guy” tavern. After some time the duo saw a group of four Hyvalian Templars approaching the mouth of the place.

The Templars were decked out in full chainmail suits with gold-trimmed white surcoats bearing the golden sun and rays on their chests and open helms. A golden chalice medallion hung around each of their thick necks. Each armed with a straight one-handed great sword and dagger. One of them was also carrying a light crossbow.

The group of churchmen immediately took notice of the scrawny one-armed necromancer near the mouth of a nearby alley especially when he shouted at his partner in crime: “Yeah! Get her Dranor! She’s a follower of Boahng! Let’s do her right in this alley!” They could see the large blackguard apparently dragging a struggling girl into the dark recesses of the alley. So of course they immediately pulled their weapons and jaunted heroically into the shadows.

In the alley the blackguard took a high guard stance with his zanbato as he and the necromancer waited to waylay the Hyvalians. As the first Templar charged in Dravor took an attack of opportunity. The blackguard smote the Templar on the helmeted head wounding him badly. The brained churchman responded with his great sword carving a nasty gash into Dravor’s side.

The second Templar into the alley grabbed the zombie in a mistaken attempt to rescue her. The third stopped about 10 ft. from Jíen and shot him. The zombie smashed her tiny fists into the second Templars face in a completely unexpected attack. He reacted instinctively by chopping her down in a single stroke, sudden horror smeared over his rugged but still boyish features.

Jíen cast Dread Invigoration and stepped in towards the first Templar touching him. The energy drain nearly stunned the man. The Templar then lost grip of his great sword which he flung deeper into the dark alley when he clumsily struck at Dravor. The zombie slowly rose back up.

The second Templar even more horrified chopped her back down again. The third Templar reloaded his crossbow. The first deflected a blow from Dravor’s horse-cutter with his dagger. The fourth who was lagging behind the group, charged at Dravor his sword narrowly missing the blackguard’s chest. The zombie rose for a second time.

Jíen tried to cast Animate Necrosis on the first Templar’s wounds but the church-warrior easily resisted. The second Templar shouted, “Undead!” and hacked into Jíen’s zombie, the sound of steel breaking through bone echoed down the filthy alley. The zombie however was still on her feet though she was now wearing her entrails as an apron.

Jíen hit the first Templar with another Dread Invigoration and Dravor followed up with a sword blow finally dropping him. The blackguard tried to cast a spell but failed distracted by the heat of the battle. The crossbowman nailed the necromancer with a bolt but dealt little damage through his magic amulet of armor. The second Templar chopped Jíen’s zombie down for the third time.

The zombie painfully lurched back up. Jíen hit the fourth Templar, the only one currently facing off with Dravor, with his Exsanguination spell wounding the churchman badly and healing his own wounds in the process as he gulped down the blood forced from the Hyvalian’s body.

The zombie slammed her mutilated body into the second Templar dealing no damage. His horror now turned wholly to disgust. Dravor struck the fourth Templar hacking a gory wound into his side. The Templar retorted wounding Dravor severely. The second Templar cleaved the zombie in two finally destroying it. The third reloaded his crossbow.

Dravor clinched with the fourth Templar on a parry and the second zombie-gore encrusted Templar hacked into him while he was helpless.

Cris (the GM): “Man, you could always just drop your weapon.”

Gil (Dravor’s Player): “No way! I need my weapon! My Zanbato.”

The blackguard was able to break the clinch and swung his massive blade around opening the fourth Templar’s chest dropping him. In a panic the crossbowman shot Dravor. The second Templar then hacked into the blackguard with a vicious strike and then easily parried the Dravor’s retort. The third Templar dropped his crossbow which clattered to the cobblestones and drew his sword.

All the while Jíen cast spell after spell but the Templars were either able to withstand the damage or resist the crippling magic of his spells altogether. In desperation Dravor power attacked the fourth Templar splitting his mail wide open and cleaving him into two gory halves. The last Templar charged and parried Dravor’s attack. The Templar responded with his sword and Dravor barely parried the desperate blow.

Again the Templar resisted the necromancer’s magic and Dravor eager to finish the fight put all his might behind another power attack hacking off the Hyvalian’s head in a single stroke. The trash strewn alley an abattoir soaked in blood, still warm guts squirmed over the filth.

Of course, before collecting their heads the duo looted the bodies for a grand total of 18 gp, 75 sp, and 70 cp. The pair split the take evenly and headed off to see Korvo-Doom with 4 bagged heads, after Jíen harvested a couple more long-bones, that is.

To Be Continued…

[do_widget id=”cool_tag_cloud-4″ title=false]

Necromancing Xuun Pt.6: Blood Feast of Doom

Exvorum the dark priest led the trio to the hall of the master slaver Korvo-Doom. The Blood Chalice of Doombanner of the Golden Devil West Company wafted dreamily over the heavy wooden double-door, the entrance to his hall. The flag bore the smiling horned yellow demon with a crown floating above its head against a white field bounded by a blue border.

Jíen briefly contemplated on how strange it was that a creature like the Company should exist. To him it was a landless country with a fleet, an army, and lords, granted a Board of Lords. However, the idea that such a beast could survive on money alone did make a sort of sense, as money is power, the most material kind anyway. But knowing the impermanence of all things he brushed those philosophical concerns aside.

The priest with the shaved head approached the door and knocked with an uneven staccato. When the door cracked open, he whispered what the trio assumed to be a password but couldn’t overhear. A servant threw open the doors and Exvorum gleefully led his guests into the hall which was abuzz with activity.

A tall skinny Ivoran man in fine silk robes also with a shaved head greeted the group. He introduced himself as Ilhand interpreter and right hand of Korvo-Doom. He enjoined the trio to sit at their places beside the dark priest’s neophytes. The five young men were dressed in black robes similar to their master each also with a shaved head. Tattooed around their wrists and their necks were the links of black chains.

The table was already set with wood-ware and tin plates as well as wine, ale, and especially whiskey. There was also bowls of fresh fruit and nuts from all over the Westlands and along the Ivoran Coast. It was not long before the slaves and servants had everything in place for their master’s feast. It was not long after this that his guests began to ooze into the hall one after another.

Before long the hall and thus was populated with Doom’s guests, top members of the Swampers’ Guild, an ogrish fellow with a bullwhip pulling along 3 gladiators with spiked collars on golden chains, several roguish men and a few women, and an out of place noble couple in fine clothes. Naked pleasure slaves in chains lined the hall, both male and female humans, their flawless bodies and soft skins oiled and gleaming. Jíen found the atmosphere in the crowded hall a bit stifling, too many warm bodies.

After a while, the chatter amongst the presumed villains rose to a constant low rumble with the occasional outburst of raucous laughter. A slight fog of incense and pipe-smoke coalesced above their heads. Suddenly Ilhand emerged from a stairwell behind the head of the long table and announced, “The Prince Scourge of Hyval, Defiler of the Light, Whip of the Enslaver, I present Lord Korvo-Doom!”

Only after the last syllable had died which had been dragged out for effect did the master-slaver Korvo-Doom emerge from the very same stairwell. Draped in fine white gold-gilded silk robes with a golden chainmail shirt underneath he approached his tall-backed black lacquered chair in a surprisingly graceful manner as a downcast slave scooted it out for him.

Korvo’s shoulder-length platinum-blonde hair was square cut so as to exhibit his flawless pale face which had the appearance of an angelic very young man with scintillating crystal blue-eyes. It was in contrast to his heavily muscled and sun-tanned arms and broad muscly chest, he had to weigh in somewhere around 250 pounds and was very tall around 6’5”.

As the master-slaver sat he signaled with his hand the rounded sapphires on his gold bracers glittering in the bright lamplight. A slave began to pour out assassin-berry wine, a few of the more refined guests could tell just by the strong sweet smell.

Korvo-Doom made a short speech to which Jíen paid little attention. Then those wishing to squeeze in a little butt-kissing session began to purpose ever more pompous and increasingly ridiculous toasts by turn in the evil-angelic figure’s honor. Dravor cut-off the ogrish fellow in his enthusiasm and purposed a surprisingly brief and slightly awkward toast which seemed to please the slaver slightly. Jíen rolled his eyes.

When it came time for the priest Exvorum to mount his toast he first produced a spectacular chalice from a black lockbox that one of his neophytes had unlocked and then took away.

The chalice was silver with a gold inlay and had five large rubies inset in the cup and five bloodstones on the base. He held it aloft presenting it as a gift to Korvo-Doom. In response, Ilhand then produced a black box of his own which when opened revealed a gold mask in the likeness of a grinning demon encrusted with gems. With some ceremony, they exchanged both items.

Steaming pork dripping with fat, thick green soup, and oven-fresh bread were brought to the table on silver platters and bowls. The slaves that had been standing against the whitewashed walls of the hall moved to the guests and intermingled (as it were). The feasting began in earnest but to Jíen there was still a little tension in the air and amongst the indulgent guests as if something had yet to be finished; an incomplete ritual.

Unexpectedly Korvo-Doom turned towards Jíen. The young necromancer seated just on the other side of the dark priest’s retinue. He spoke in perfect Dead-Lander to the young necro-mage inquiring as to how he had found himself in Xuun and had a few questions about his fighter. Bludbaer was standing behind Jíen in laughable imitation of a bodyguard.

The necromancer had inquired about Shadow-Scale but found that Korvo-Doom had an unreasoning hatred of all Scaels (and maybe all Naga). When Jíen inquired of Korfin, the slaver had never heard of him. The angel-faced slaver however was familiar with the Silver-Owl. They chatted for a bit more.

Korvo then signaled the other two, Trantox the assassin and Dravor the blackguard, to lean in as he presumably had a business proposal for the three. He would consider it a big favor if the trio would help in clearing up a little matter. He continued on to say there have been multiple open attempts on his life by certain members of the Hyvalian Theocracy.

He was sure that the offenders are those that had traveled to Xuun on a ship that was currently at harbor. The ship’s name was The Golden Wind, a Hyvalian vessel with junk rigging and grand golden sun-casting rays painted on its sails. Should the church officers on that ship come to harm he would pay 200 gold devils per head (the Company strikes its own gold pieces stamped with the company’s logo, a grinning devil face, and worth about one-half a gold piece each).

He also extended the deal to any theocrat head they could deliver to him. Dravor immediately shook Korvo’s hand and accepted the deal for the whole group. Trantox wholeheartedly concurred and Jíen just shrugged. That business concluded the master-slaver clapped his well-manicured paws together, the concussion silencing the lusty party.

Without warning Korvo-Doom snatched the wrist of the naked slave-girl on his lap and slit her wrist to the bone with his dagger. He held the gushing wound over the dark priest’s gift, the silver chalice. The red stones on the vessel glowed venomously and the girl’s cries of protest cut off with a squeak.

She paled, her eyes went dead, her once milk-smooth skin curdled, and pruned about the eyes and lips. The flow of blood was an instantaneous torrent washing the entirety of the blood from within her body containing it in the impossible capacity of the small silver cup. Korvo-Doom flung the limp corpse to the side. It flopped onto the flagstone floor of the hall.

The master-slaver and apparent devil-worshipper took a drink and passed the bloody vessel to the priest who did the same and thus the cup continued around the table with each guest obligated to take a hearty drink.

When it came to Dravor’s turn he immediately stood and pledged his service to Korvo-Doom before drinking. Again, Jíen rolled his eyes and then wondered if the blackguard had foolishly become a thrall of the devilish-slaver.

Deciding to rib the blackguard a little Jíen shouted out “Hey! Where’d he go! I can only see his boots!” Of course he said it in Deadlander so only Korvo-Doom and Ilhand understood. They snickered. Dravor shot a harsh sideways glance at the necromancer.

After the blood ritual, all of the tension had bled from the room. The festivities moved to that more akin a delirious orgy rather than a ritualistic feast. Jíen pointed to the corpse of the girl questioningly as slaves began to drag her away. Korvo nodded in acknowledgment and then threw a dismissive hand gesture.

So right there, as an orgy heaved and sweated around him, the young necromancer animated the corpse of the slave-girl. Jíen left word with Ilhand, whom was coldly overseeing and not participating in the greasy festivities, on how to contact him should they require his services. The necromancer took his leave with both of his creatures.

Sometime later after leaving his creatures in the tomb, Jíen decided to have a peek at the Hyvalian ship Korvo had mentioned. He went to the docks and found that the ship was at anchor in the middle of the deep lagoon that served as Xuun’s harbor. His curiosity satisfied he figured he should be the one to formulate the plan of attack.

The next night the trio gathered once again at the Troll. Trantox brought up a plan about “eliminating the competition”, a Scael gladiator with a 5,000 gp bounty on his head. The assassin even knew where they were, the Silver Scale Tavern. Dranor on the other hand wanted to fulfill the promise the trio had made to Korvo-Doom instead. This time Jíen sided with the blackguard. Trantox sneered at him.

The plan the trio came up with after a few minutes of both planning and arguing was that they would find a crew member of the Golden Wind, assassinate him, and Jíen would then reanimate him. They would then have the zombie crewman row them out to the ship and help them get aboard. That was when they would “slice and dice” as it were.

The Poisonwood assassin oiled his dagger with venom and agreed to follow through with Jíen’s plan. Immediately, just as they rose from the table, Dravor called for a vote, which overruled Jíen’s plan. The pair even tried to get Jíen to agree to row the boat out to the ship for them after he lost that vote.

Me (Jíen’s Player): “I have one freakin’ ARM!”

To Be Continued…

[do_widget id=”cool_tag_cloud-4″ title=false]

Necromancing Xuun – Pt. 5: Five of Swords

The paladin had charged straight at Dravor his golden single-handed great sword Paladin's Emblemslamming into the blackguard. Jíen the necromancer cast Crippling Touch but failed to touch, luckily not tripping over his own feet. A Templar missed his strike on Jíen’s skeletal minion and vice versa.

Another Templar lunged at the young necromancer ready to land a hideous sword-blow until Jíen nailed the touch on a simultaneous attack. The Templar’s limbs shriveled and curled into what resembled gnarled tree branches and just as useless. The attack stopped, the churchman dropped to the filthy floor moaning.

Dravor the blackguard his charged weapon crackling with negative energy smashed the zanbato into the paladin gravely wounding the holy warrior. Trantox the assassin stabbed the second Templar, the Templar fumbling his great sword on the retort.

The paladin fumbled his attack against Dravor and a third Templar fumbled his attack against Trantox. A fourth Templar hacked through a rack of the minion’s ribs. Dravor turned on the fourth man with the horse-cutter killing him instantly in a spray of gore & brains cleaving his helm in two. Then the blackguard took the attack of opportunity to try to stop the paladin from snatching up his great sword. Although he struck the Hyvalian he couldn’t prevent him from rearming himself.

Dravor took yet another swipe at the paladin but missed. Jíen used his serrated dagger to slit the throat of the crippled Templar. Blood gushed and the third Templar smashed down the skeletal minion with his sword. The Paladin smote at Dravor grievously wounding him and Dravor smote back at him with a simultaneous power attack. The Hyvalian warrior though wounded horrifically was still on his feet.

The third Templar fell down dead revealing the formerly concealed Trantox with his blood-steeped blade in hand. In the midst of the bloody battle Jíen failed to cast a spell as blades zipped and whistled too close to his person for comfort.

The paladin landed a massive blow with his great sword hurting the blackguard badly. Trantox buried his blade in the last Templar’s back dropping him. The paladin hacked into Trantox and then the assassin stabbed the churchman back. Jíen cast Exsanguination on the paladin gruesomely wounding him but the holy warrior endured.

The paladin again turned on the Poisonwood assassin but the righteous blow deflected by the criminal’s silver blade. Dranor moved in and dealt the deathblow to the last churchman standing. After looting what they could from the corpses, the trio retired to a table on the other side of the Whiskey Troll Tavern and commenced to drinking while the bodies were disappeared. Jíen’s cut turned out to be 3 gold pieces, 55 coppers, and 30 silver pieces.

They had left the paladin’s sword where it lay for the troll-wife barmaids to haul away along with the corpses. It was an alchemical gold great sword with black enameled Hyvalian characters etched along its broad blade. It was too identifiable. The Templars on the other hand had steel great-swords so utterly devoid of decoration as to identify them more simply as tools rather than noble weapons.

The minion’s bones went with the rest of the detritus but its skull found a perch on the bar-board with a few others, a candle placed atop the cranium. Jíen wouldn’t have minded the loss much save for the fact that it cost 100 gp to create another and he was a broke at the moment.

Dranor had “donated” one of the Templars’ plain-steel great swords to Jíen’s fighter Bludbaer. Note that Jíen had left his gladiator-creature at the table the whole time. The secretly-undead fighter had sat mechanically guzzling wine while the fight raged around him. Onlookers were impressed.

Later, as the regulars rolled in so did a gaggle of Southland nomads, gypsies. Jíen decided to toss them his remaining gold bits in exchange for some random information. They pointed out a man-shaped ice-block frozen to a pillar near where the trio had faced down the Hyvalian Theocrats. A bit annoyed, the young necro-mage went to check it out, Bludbaer in tow.

He recognized it as a mage frozen solid, who probably fumbled his spell and its magic went wild on him; which side had he been on, if either, the necromancer could not tell. A half-faun Hill-lander buccaneer nonchalantly hacked off some ice from the block for his whiskey. Jíen left the place with Bludbaer heading for the tomb in which he currently made his home.

Not far from the tavern he saw Dravor in the street in a state of supreme agitation. There were puddles of boiling acid eating ruts in the street near the blackguard. As the angry evil-warrior gave each of the alleyways near him a cursory spastic inspection Jíen tried to rush past without being recognized.

But Dravor spotted him. “Hey! Where’re you going with my fighter!?”

Annoyed Jíen tried to play it off as if he couldn’t understand the heavily Poisonwood accented Westlanderish Dravor was speaking. Unfortunately the blackguard saw through the ruse. Unnoticed, Trantox had already caught up with them.

Jíen (in perfect Westlander): “I made him, He’s MINE!”

Dranor and Trantox were taken aback as they realized that the necromancer could speak and understand the Westlander tongue. He had in fact only just fully learned the language.

Dranor (Played by Gil): “So. Um. You could understand everything this whole time?”

Jenn (Trantox’s Player): “Oh! See! I told you don’t trust this guy! Maybe we should kill him just to be safe?” (My wife ladies and gentlemen)

Trantox: “Sooo. I need a place to crash, where do you live?”

Jíen: “I sleep in a tomb. There’s no room.”

Trantox: “Oh.”

Dranor: “Aha! So we know where you are now. The graveyard!”

Me (Jíen’s Player): “Duh dude! I’m a Necromancer!”

The dark trio stood there a while arguing back and forth until Jíen spotted the dark priest, Exvorum, approaching them. Seeing an exit to his current predicament Jíen quickly walked over to greet him.

Exvorum: “Ah there you are my friends. I have come to fetch you for the master. You are invited to a feast in his honor.” With a sweep of his black cloaked arm, “Come. Follow me.”

The dark trio followed the Southlander priest with the shaved head and black robes into the Slavers’ Quarter, through the mart, and then into the Slave Pits of Korvo-Doom.

To Be Continued…

[do_widget id=”cool_tag_cloud-4″ title=false]

Necromancing Xuun Pt.4: Gold Bit Gambit

It was time to put his plan into action. After his morning meditation on the deeperWhat gold bits buy mysteries of the Black Faith he took out his serrated knife and began to carefully cut a single gold piece into pieces of eight. Jíen then left his tomb and walked to the bazaar. It wasn’t long before after harassing a few ragamuffins that he found a group of street-rats eager for his gold bits. He told his new contact, the eldest of the group complete with a tattoo of rat’s silhouette on the side of his hand (a mark of the Ratters’ Guild), that he would pay in gold bits for a black gem, no questions asked. The necromancer told them he frequents the Troll and to find him there to get paid.

A little while later, the young necromancer walked into the Whiskey Troll Tavern and noticed that even without the oppressive atmosphere of smoke it stunk quite a bit of piss and rotten ale. He also noticed that his companions had indeed survived their little mission from last night. He walked over and the other two had some harsh words for him, he tried to explain himself and kept a friendly tone. Trantox the assassin and Dravor the blackguard didn’t understand a word from the necromancer’s mouth and vice versa.

Somehow, all thought that everything had been smoothed over or that they had won at an argument or got the other party to agree to something. Regardless, they were a trio again. They sat and ate a breakfast of hot ale-mash with bits of fried meat (probably rat), ale and some whiskey. The necromancer however went light on the booze preferring to drink the cheapest grog he could get.

It wasn’t long before the first of two street kids walked in delivering for 1 gold bit, a rounded onyx obviously pried from some larger treasure. Trantox and Dravor left sometime just before midday. A little while later outside the day turned gray, humid, and dark without warning and then a sudden thunderstorm dumped warm rain turning the uncobbled streets to mud.

Shortly after the second pickpocket had walked out with his gold bit, the blackguard and the assassin came back wetted by the downpour. They again sat and ordered food and drink; they appeared to have quite a bit of money on their persons. It wasn’t long after that that a tall sun-darkened southlander with a shaved pate wrapped in a black robe walked in from the rain and directly to the dark trio’s table.

The tall man smiling made eye contact with Dravor and referred to him a few times as ‘brother’. Four others similarly dressed and lightly armed were behind him. Jíen couldn’t understand much but when the man introduced himself to the rest of the group he caught the name Exvorum. Exvorum and his men joined the trio for a few hours of friendly chatter and some whiskies.

By evening the tavern was crowded, loud with brusque voices, and fogged with smoke. Fauns, some half-giants, Scaels, and gypsies had flooded into the place all arriving in town as fans of the annual gladiatorial games. Jíen took his leave after purchasing a bottle of whiskey and made his way back to the charnel house.

It wasn’t long before he found himself chatting up the attendant of the astudan, Exandor. Of course, their conversation turned towards past champion level gladiators who’d died and were buried in the graveyard.

Exandor: “Baercor the skull-breaker. I think he died about 2 seasons ago, big funeral. Lotsa flowers, the mourners certainly earned their pay that day. A fine funeral indeed.” His bottom lip bulged with pride with that final phrase.

A few minutes after that Jíen left the half-drunk bottle with the inebriated Exandor and used his skeletal minion to excavate the grave of the gladiator Baercor. The corpse was in surprisingly good condition having mostly dried-up rather than rotted. Even his equipment was more-or-less intact. He had been buried with the implements of his profession, a dire-mace, a short-sword, a chain shirt bearing the damage of the fatal wound, an open helm, and a Westlander war-belt.

The Deadlands necromancer took most of the remaining night to ply his trade and convert the corpse into something useful, a variation of a Dread-Guard using the black gems he had obtained from the street urchins. Surprisingly both gems were genuine. The creature when finished was a mindless automaton for the most part but its shriveled bluish flesh was hardened like leather and its strength slightly greater than it had been in life.

Jíen had also carved, with his serrated dagger, a magic rune into the creature’s forehead during its creation, a Disguise Undead spell. The creature would appear as a living man of a somewhat generic appearance but appropriate to his size and massive build. Jíen wouldn’t have been too surprised to learn that the gladiator had giant’s blood in his veins.

There was enough time left before dawn for the young mage to catch some sleep before he had to go to the arena to register his fighter as Bludbaer the Dire and himself as Bludbaer’s manager. He would use the tiger-eye gem snatched from one of the hooded thief’s corpses (see Necromancing Xuun Pt.2: Squatters’ Rights). The proper games would begin in a week’s time. He thought, “ha! This’ll be easy money!”

It was near noontime when Jíen had finished putting the last few steps of his plan into action having registered his fighter for the games and was headed back to the Whiskey Troll Tavern to meet up with his compatriots with his minion and new gladiator in tow. It wasn’t long after his arrival at the Troll before fight-fans were offering drinks to his undead-fighter so Jíen had them give the creature red wine as it was “his favorite”.

Cris (the GM): “Ha-ha, like blood!”

Me (Jíen’s Player): “Well, yeah, can’t have him get wounded in the games and have no blood. Someone might get suspicious!”

The GM made a note after that crack.

After a while, Dravor wanted in on the swindle and offered to “sponsor” the young necromancer’s fighter. Of course, the necromancer would have to help the blackguard in taking out a “competitor” first. They had just finished shaking hands on it when a gaggle of armored Hyvalians clattered in. Jíen’s shadowed eyes nearly bulged from their sockets when he saw them.

There was a mutual amount of hate between most, if not all, Hyvalians and Deadlanders caused by the Necromancer Rebellion that had occurred over 500 years past. It had resulted in the loss of a significant portion of the Hyval landmass to the Solkang Ocean splitting the Deadlands from the mainland. It was still a sore spot between cultures.

The Hyvalians’ white surcoats bore the golden chalice and sunrays against azure of the Hyvalian Theocracy. The leader was in full plate armor and great helm apparently a paladin and the other four were Templars in full-suits of chainmail with steel open helms on their heads. The paladins armor squeaked with his raised arm as did his gauntlet when his finger thrust in Jíen’s direction.

Paladin: “We are here to purge this community of the evil that has infected it! We start with you!”

What Jíen had failed to note was that the paladin’s golden scabbard had a single gem of obsidian set into it. The gold mounting damaged from a failed attempt at prying it off. There were also two other empty settings from which the gems had been pried.

Trantox the assassin had already slunk away unseen.

To Be Continued…

[do_widget id=”cool_tag_cloud-4″ title=false]

Necromancing Xuun Pt.3: Back Alley Rumble

Early evening in the taproom of the Whiskey Troll Tavern and it was jumping. There were crowds of heavily salted and slightly pickled pirates, small groups of cloaked figures plotting who knows what, and large huddles of fight fans. These gladiator groupies had faces smeared with paint the colors of their favorite fighter. Jíen sat at a small table near the ever gaping entrance of the place, his cloaked and cowled skeletal minion behind him posed as a servant.

Through the pungent haze of pipe-smoke the young necromancer observed a hemp merchant a gold necklace dangling on his leather-clad chest and a porter hauling a small locked chest on his shoulder following. Following them attempting to be inconspicuous were Jíen’s companions, Trantox the assassin (played by Jenn), and Dravor the blackguard (played by Gil). The dark pair ducked over to and sat down at the necromancer’s table. The conspicuous pair kept an eye on the porter and merchant whom disappeared into the backroom of the place guided by one whom Jíen assumed to be the owner.

Trantox and Dravor were babbling something about the merchant to Jíen but he was unable to understand the Westlander tongue especially through their thick Poisonwood accents. It was about a half an hour before the merchant and his porter came from the back and sat for a few jacks of ale & whiskey. After about another half an hour the porter and merchant took their leave of the tavern. Jíen’s companions patted the necromancer on the shoulder to follow as they crept up from their seats to follow the seemingly clueless merchant.

Outside the purple moon and its ring were already beginning to appear in the golden horizon as the hemp merchant rejoined his men, 6 porters in total and 3 armed bodyguards. This group proceeded to a caravan of wagons gathered near a wide pavement at the end of the street. Each wagon on their sides had a green hemp leaf painted on a brown field bounded by a loop of twisted yellow rope. The Ivoran caravan had a group of 8 armed guards in chain mail, steel caps on their heads, armed with short spears. The caravan master was a broad fellow with a long peppered mustache and a longsword and bowie knife as sidearms.

As Jíen and his companions observed from afar the merchant paid his porters and they left the company no doubt heading towards less notorious taverns than the Troll. The merchant proceeded to talk to the heavyset caravan master for several minutes then the merchant and his 3 bodyguards walked away back down a wide and busy side avenue as the sky darkened. The hemp merchant and his men were heading to the north end of town. Dravor told the necromancer that they were going to the Golden Feather Inn.

By this time Jíen had learned that the hemp merchant’s name was Ranor. In addition, blackguard Dravor had wordlessly communicated to the necromancer that they were to kill the merchant by dragging his finger across his own throat then rubbing his thumb and forefinger together.

As the dark trio followed them through the bustling crowd the merchant and his guards suddenly turned into an alley as if by some strange fortune two large overturned wagons completely blocked the street. The merchant kept rapidly rounding the turns through the maze of narrowing filth choked alleyways of Ezmer until the only people that could be seen traversing the back-ways were the dark trio and the merchant and his men.

So of course caught at this impasse the merchant, who unfortunately was no fool, turned his men shuffled around him and the blackguard immediately threw a spell at the largest and foremost bodyguard.

The large man was engulfed in blood red flames which burst from his body scorching the other 2 guards. Trantox the assassin dipped his dagger into a vial marked with the Hyvalian characters for black-lotus. So, Jíen cast a Wound spell quickly at their target just a second before Ranor and his guards pulled their weapons. Unfortunately the merchant was able to shake off most of the spell-effect.

The Deadlands necromancer with his minion at his left side stood behind the assassin with his golden poison-dipped dagger and the bronze-armored blackguard. The merchant and his scorched guard were equipped with copper studded soft leather cuirasses with chain mail patches about the shoulders and over their bellies as well as bronze studded leather bracers and bronze leg guards over their knee-high blacked leather boots. The big burnt guard pulled his great axe from his back after having smashed himself into a full gutter-barrel extinguishing the evil flames in the filthy blackwater. The second guard pulled his great sword, and the third aimed his crossbow. Merchant Ranor pulled a shortsword and stepped over to the guard with the crossbow.

The guard armed with the great sword charged Dravor the blackguard whom failed to parry in time with his own massive weapon, a horse-cutter zanbato, and felt the bite of the more standard heavy bladed weapon. A crossbow bolt flew at Trantox putting a nick into the assassin’s ear. The Poisonwood assassin immediately dashed further into the alley towards the guard armed with the crossbow and his intended prey.

Jíen took a step forward to touch the great sword wielding guard with a Crippling Touch spell but missed. Dravor swung his zanbato at the same guard hacking into his cuirass and drawing some blood. The still smoking head guard with his great axe moved back 10 ft. towards his master. The guard with the crossbow moved up and readied to load his weapon. The guard dueling with Dravor took a swing with his massive weapon and getting through the blackguard’s defenses wounded him horribly.

Me (Jíen’s Player): “Trantox WTF! Get in there and stab the dude with yer dagger so we can get outta here!”

Jenn (Trantox’s Player)(having just seen the damage dealt to Dravor): “No way I’m getting close to those guys! I’m out numbered!”

Trantox deftly switched up his weapons and used his already loaded crossbow to fire a bolt into the back of the great sword wielding guard. Jíen tried to grasp the same guard again but again was too slow to land his spell. Dravor in a desperate move tried to disarm the guard of his great sword but failed miserably. Trantox using his unequaled skills with his weapon put another bolt into the back of the same guard. As the guard winced when the arrow nailed his flesh, Dravor swung with all his might opening a hideous wound in the man’s chest but the guard was still standing.

Dravor clumsily struck again at the guard, both men equally wounded and both very near death, but the guard knocked it aside easily. The guard with the great axe and Ranor the hemp merchant both moved in the opposite direction of their attackers out of the alley and into the street.  A crossbow bolt flew and imbedded itself in a graffiti decorated adobe wall near Jíen. The shooter-guard then proceeded to reload. Seeing that the battle was a bit too evenly matched for his comfort the necromancer decided to flee.

Jíen and his minion flew through the twists and turns of the dreary maze of alleys and streets until the young Deadlander was positive of no pursuit. If his companions survived, he was certain they wouldn’t, he was pretty sure he could smooth over any ill-feelings brought about by his strategic withdrawal.

In the meantime he tried to hook up with a contact, one Korvo-Doom, in the slavers’ quarter but found the slaver’s place locked up tight, it was night after all. So the disappointed mage slunk back to his crypt and before settling in to sleep he spent the last of his spells by infusing them into some of the thieves’ bones he had acquired. After he added 3 bone-wands to his gear, 2 charged with the Wound spell and 1 with Exsanguination he reclined to enjoy a well-earned rest.

As he lay down however, he thought that he might want to start formulating a plan.

To Be Continued…

[do_widget id=”cool_tag_cloud-4″ title=false]

Necromancing Xuun Pt.2: Squatters’ Rights

The dark trio of Jíen the necromancer (played by me), Trantox the assassin (played by Fate of the hoods as they vs. the squatter heroesJenn), and Dravor the blackguard (played by Gil) found themselves settling into their bedrolls in a barren room of a deserted adobe apartment building. A few piles of detritus and some debris from the crumbling wall-plaster the only décor. Each settled into their own corner to sleep.

Later, Jíen was shocked awake by Dranor’s shouts. The necromancer awoke to find his companions cornered on the opposite side of the room from him by four black-hooded dagger-wielding rogues. They had not stumbled onto the young necromancer since he had camped out by the entrance and they had apparently gained entry through one or both of the glassless shudder-less windows along the outside wall. Jíen’s skeletal minion was standing between him and the group of hoods.

The necromancer leapt to his feet and cast an empowered Wound spell on the nearest thief. The sudden twinge of the masked man’s body told Jíen his spell had been effective. His skeletal minion continued to guard its master against approach. Trantox ducked behind the larger Dravor to load his crossbow.

A hood stabbed Dranor and another jabbed Trantox hurting him badly with a lightning fast flash of the blade. Another turned and lashed out at the minion, which parried the clumsy blow easily with its boney claws. The thief who had felt the sting of the necromancer’s magic turned and stabbed Jíen wounding him while Dravor clinched a thief’s dagger on a parry. Jíen stepped back and cast Animate Necrosis on his attacker. The necromancer’s back mashed against the damp disintegrating plaster, but the resultant scabby tendril failed to take hold of the man’s throat.

Trantox stepped out to shoot a thief whom tried to parry the crossbow itself but failed miserably getting shot and badly wounded in the process. The thief clinched by Dravor’s axe wrenched his dagger free and his dagger stung at the black guard whom barley was able to knock the blade aside. Trantox pulled his silver dagger and slashed but the hood dodged his blow easily.

The hood on the minion stabbed it piercing the black robes but hit nothing as the blade slid easily between its bleached ribs. Jíen’s attacker stepped in for a kill shot but the gruesome tendril sticking out of his shirt found its grip around his throat and squeezed the last bit of life out of him. The strangled corpse fell at the necromancer’s feet.

Dravor hacked one of the hoods down with a mighty swing and the assassin put another quarrel into one that was hitherto untouched. The thief on Jíen’s minion stabbed the creature again to no effect then it retorted by clawing him. Dranor swung on the thief that had run up to Trantox as the assassin was still badly wounded but his blow was parried. Trantox then got another bolt off from his crossbow nailing his attacker seriously injuring him.

One of the hooded men tried to make a run for it as the battle turned but Dranor took the opportunity to cleave his yellow spine in two. The last hood prepared to defend himself as he looked for a way out of the gauntlet. Dranor’s axe missed its mark as it whistled in from the side but Trantox’s blade found its mark nearly killing the thief. The hood sidestepped and prepared to leap from the nearest window.

Jíen threw a spell in the wounded hood’s direction and as his body convulsed a torrent of blood forced from the petty thug’s body flew directly into the necromancer’s mouth and down his throat, Jíen’s wounds instantly healing. Even so, the last hood, the largest of the former four, was still able to make a desperate leap at the window the two bleeding halves of his body impacting into the wooden windowsill with a thud. Dranor had chopped him apart while he was still in midair.

It took only a few minutes for the trio to loot the bodies. Afterwards the necromancer immediately went to work on the corpses digging out a few long-bones for use as Bone Wands later. The three tried to recoup some sleep for the last few hours before dawn and then parted ways as soon as the purple moon was full against the golden morning horizon. They would meet back up later at the Whiskey Troll Tavern around midday.

Jíen with his disguised minion in tow found his way across town to the charnel house in the east end situated right next to the very crowded cemetery. After a few more minutes he had found the proprietor and mentioning Rantcor’s name introduced himself. The proprietor was a tall, skinny Ivoran fellow with a baldhead and sumptuous oiled brown beard named Exandnor. However, the only business the Ivoran crypt-keeper seemed to be interested in was the delivery of fresh intact corpses “no questions asked”.

Just when Jíen thought that the bard’s tip was turning out to be fruitless the Ivoran offered the necromancer an empty tomb to sleep in which slouched near the center of the cemetery. The name inscribed on the small sunken mausoleum was Ranor Long-Rider. The dead-lander thanked Exandnor for his kindness and after inspecting the new digs went on his way to the tavern.

On the way to tavern however he had to cut through the town bazaar which was already reeking with its hoards of tradesmen, merchants, rubes, thieves, and whores. He passed close by to where a gypsy clan was entertaining, juggling and the like. Their children were moving in and out of the small unwashed crowd that had gathered. “Thieving no doubt” Jíen thought.

So mostly for sh*ts and giggles as one of the earthy haired bumpy-headed urchins passed by him (they were a noticeable mating of faun, human, and naga) he quickly pat the boy on the head all the while subtly casting a Contagion spell, nothing serious only a fever possibly lethal still highly contagious though. After that, feeling wholly satisfied with himself the necromancer continued on his way to the Whiskey Troll his black draped skeletal minion following closely on his heels.

To Be Continued…

[do_widget id=”cool_tag_cloud-4″ title=false]

Necromancing Xuun Pt.1: Crackin’ Skulls

The bard, the group’s contact, had appeared as if from nowhere and sat conversing with Black Skulls Tattoohis other two companions (Dravor played by Gil and Trantox by Jenn) in their language, Poison-tongue. Jíen couldn’t understand as he only spoke, at the moment anyway, the Deadlands tongue an archaic Hyvalian dialect. He did however notice the bits of other numerous conversations, mostly in Ivoran (another dialect of Hyvalian) that floated upon the heady and noisome atmosphere like so much flotsam. He had pieced together something from the general murmur about a missing hill-giant captain of the guard. Nothing really interesting.

His shadow-drowned eyeballs rolled about the place. In the corner by the gaping doorway, an old portcullis no doubt, stood a perpetually empty table, its boards strangely dry and carved with a decorative image, which he could not presently make out but it looked like an expertly carved clown. Meanwhile a ruckus began near to their table as 2 groups of pirates began a drinking contest against each other. A few were speaking in the Deadlands tongue.

The necromancer’s patience was at an end as the bard and Trantox seemed to be gabbing. Jíen turned to the bard, Rantcor, and asked what they were talking about finishing with, “I’m here for a job not conversation!”

Rantcor briefly conversed with the necromancer in broken Hyvalian about his range of skills the bard ending the talk with mention of “possible extermination work”. The bard then turned to Trantox and gave him directions to someplace called “The Broken String” and to be there at midnight, from what the necromancer could make out anyway.

A group of rat-catchers tumbled in ready to pay for drinks in rat-tails loudly talking rumors and conjecturing on the fate of one Nezor. A short while after Rantcor departed Dravor got up from the table and began to preach to various bar patrons which attracted Jíen’s attention as it wasn’t about the Black Faith, the theosophy of the Deadlands.

So, the necromancer sauntered over to the pirates that he had heard chattering in his language and sat down. They had black-skulls tattooed on their chests and arms. He quickly got on their good sides after buying a round and then casually mentioned that the big ugly guy in black-painted bronze armor was a Blackguard who was bringing down bad luck and curses on the head of every sailor in the place. He went on to say what the guy was preaching was offensive to the goddess of the sea, Ranah the patroness of sailors and favorite deity of most sailors that port in Xuun.

It wasn’t long before the whole group, all 7 of them, stood up and surrounded Dravor who didn’t take them telling him to shut-up about his religion very well. Jíen just sat back and enjoyed the show.

The Black Skulls charged Dravor with their fists flying who then attempted to drive off his assailants by intimidating them which worked too well. All 7 of the pirates skidded to a halt on the ale-soaked floor and drew their cutlasses forcing Dravor to draw his massive zanbato. One hacked his mark into Dravor’s side with a cutlass, the Blackguard knocked aside another’s dagger blade, and then yet another’s cutlass clinched his zanbato when he responded.

Trantox seeing his companion in trouble prowled up behind one of the pirates and stuck him with his silver dagger badly wounding the Black Skull. Trantox barely dodged the reciprocal blow from the wounded pirate’s slat-scored dagger. Dravor easily broke the clinch on his weapon but then got nailed by the clinching pirate with a critical blow forcing him back and giving pause as he attempted to recover.

Dravor was able to shake off that savage blow completely. Observing that his companions weren’t as tough as they thought they were and realizing his little bit of fun may have gone a bit too far Jíen cast Animate Necrosis on the dagger-wounded pirate. His red dagger wound turned black and small tendrils tore out of his flesh and began strangling him. Trantox took the opportunity to stab the man again and again finally killing him.

Dravor parried more cutlass blows and Trantox took a lucky dagger jab to the ribs wounding him badly. Dravor then chopped into another Black Skull wounding him unto death. Seeing the fight was swinging to his companions’ favor Jíen grew bored and took his skeletal minion, still disguised in padded robes, out to look for The Broken String.

It wasn’t long before the Deadlands necromancer found the place which appeared only as placard swinging over an empty doorway between buildings that led to a spiral stone-step which wound down into a small dimly lit taproom with incense spiced air and an oddly and severely subdued atmosphere. “At least it doesn’t stink”, Jíen thought. There were curtained booths along the wall opposite the bar. At the bar there was an unconscious patron and tending a bored looking faun.

Jíen bought 3 glasses of “average” wine and waited at the bar for his companions. They arrived not long after looking worse for the wear. They slurped down their glasses in a single gulp and ordered more. Trantox after his second glass traded a Yellow Lotus blossom to the bartender for a full bottle of the stuff. Come midnight the dark trio’s contact showed up.

Rantcor passed a strangely struck coin to the faunic bartender whom nodded in the affirmative and gave him a bottle of dark wine. He then led the trio into one of the private booths. He had a job and as he told it to the other two he repeated every sentence again translating for Jíen.

Rantcor: “There’s a hemp merchant named Ranor, heard of him? No? Okay. Ranor needs to be killed. He’s staying at the Golden Feather Inn & Tavern. Bounty’s 500 gold pieces.”

The bard mentions during a period of translation to Jíen that he may have a special job coming up in a little while and to go to the charnel house on the north end of town and mention “ghoul-work”. After giving the trio the skinny the bard stays until his bottle is empty in the median trying to talk Poisonwood politics with the assassin and the blackguard. Before he left Rantcor mentioned that if the group needed a place to stay there was a squat in a two-story adobe apartment nearby which he was sure was fairly safe to sleep in.

To Be Continued…

[do_widget id=”cool_tag_cloud-4″ title=false]

Necromancing Xuun: Intro

Well, after the unintended (I hope) ending of the previous campaign A Giant in Xuun, Cris decided to give another go at GMing since he “had a lot more writing” left over that our characters never even touched on. So, Jenn, Gil, and I wrote up some new “evil” characters for further adventures in the coastal swamp City of Xuun. I decided on a necromancer from the Deadlands from the far side of the world of Eu.

Bozhívostró JielínvoNecromancer Jien

Also known as Jíen or Xinn, he is a native of the Deadlands born to poor but landed farmers. He took the surname of his step-father (Bozhívostró) whom officially adopted him shortly after marrying his mother not long after Jíen’s birth. His true father’s identity is unknown to him though he is very aware of his adoption.

His adoptive father and his mother survive on their poor farm growing herbs & vegetables in the poor soil of the Deadlands. Both are somewhat ineffectual towards Jielínvo favoring instead his two younger brothers, the true heirs of his adoptive father’s property. In a vain effort to please his parents Jíen thrust himself into books and learning diving straight into an academic life even having shown enough promise to be recruited and examined by the provincial temple where he was allowed to study the necromantic arts.

A few days after his final exam and as he contemplated a life of civil service, his step-father took him to the docks, tossed him a small coin purse, and pointed out a ship. “That’s your ship”, he said and left the young necromancer to his fate. He had been indentured by his step-father to the ship’s captain as an apprentice Zombie Master. This black vessel, the Silver Owl Mercantile, would be his home for the next 5 years.

The Silver Owl

The silver owl is a fair sized ship with a junk rigging, crimson sails with the white face of an owl painted on the main sail. The ship is equipped to haul trade-goods (mostly noxious alchemical raw materials, slaves, and zombies). It is outfitted to handle a small number of living slaves in the holds and what is called a ‘Bone-Castle’, a chamber in the fore-castle used to store corpses & skeletons.

Jíen’s duties included keeping the active and inactive zombie crew well-brined as well as assisting the ship’s Zombie Master in controlling and combating the undead and any unfriendly spirits that may endanger the ship.

During his 5 years of contractual service he served mainly as the ship’s Apprentice Zombie Master but was occasionally called upon to take on the duties of a regular crewman whenever the need arose. The ship hauled its cargo to trade under cover of darkness to privately owned Hyvalian ships while in the Solkang Ocean. It also acted as an officially licensed privateer vessel along the Chengorré Coast in the Dread Sound.

The ship skirted the Imperial Seas going southeast and harbored in Crescent Moon for a time. From there it sailed back west to such parts as Tower Town and then south to the Mere to act as a slaving vessel. The acquired slave-cargo was then sold off in cities along the Serpent Coast. From the Serpent Coast the ship transported a few strong boxes, guild-marked, to Ezmer along with a couple of mysterious passengers.

Costing an Arm

A failed attack on a smaller Creschan vessel resulted in significant losses among the regular crew, thusly Jíen had to serve out-of-capacity as a sailor during a particularly nasty thunderstorm. As a result Jíen’s right arm got tangled in a rope and tore from the shoulder by the flailing rigging. It was nearly a month before the Master Necromancer could fully repair the damage. The young necromancer’s arm however was lost to the warm waters of the Great Outer Ocean.

It was while the ship was ported in Ezmer that Jíen’s contract was up and even though he was offered a standard contract to remain as one of the crew he decided to part ways with the ship disembarking to seek his fortunes in the bustling streets of Ezmer. Here he was able to find various jobs and made a few contacts including knowledge of a powerful slaver named Korvo-Doom, a name he was already familiar with as the Silver Owl often did business with Korvo’s associates in the Golden Demon Company.

Traveling to Xuun

When things stagnated in Ezmer and the authorities began to take notice of him he decided to travel further north to Xuun on the first available trade caravan. He also heard of rumors among Ezmer’s mages of a powerful Naga mage known only as “Shadow-Scale” whom may be lurking in the city of Xuun as well as the contact for information about another well-connected mage named Korfin. He had hoped that his contacts might provide some kind of employment opportunities fit for one of his talents, if anything he was confident that he could find work in the charnel house.

Dress for Undeath

The emblem Jíen wears on the chest of his black robes, puts on his spell books, and uses as his maker’s mark he took from an engraving on a nameless tombstone. It is of an owl & raven back-to-back facing left & right respectively with a lidless eye balanced between them. Over his robes and in addition to a grey waist-sash he wears a high-quality magic rhino-hide belt studded with moonstones and a blue-steel buckle that he had come upon on a lucky trade. He still wears the seaman’s seal-skins over his legs tied above the knee and a dagger with a serrated blade and spiked pommel dangles at his side.

On his face he wears a carven leather face-mask fashioned after an owl’s stylized countenance with a lidless eye carved at the center of the forehead. That he wears mainly to disguise the fact that in place of his eyeballs are two pools of lifeless shadow due to his Eldritch Ability of Eyes of the Dead. This ability has its advantages for a necromancer but renders the world at large a misty, grey, lifeless, and lonely place. Following him is his skeletal minion hidden in an identical black robe and a grey cloak and cowl.

Enter the Necromancer

Not long after arriving in Xuun, Jíen found himself sitting at an ale-soaked table in a smoky dive called the Whiskey-Troll Tavern. The place was over-crowded with gladiators and their managers/owners among them adding overloud business-chatter to the drunken clatter. Across the damp board from the one-armed necromancer sat a couple of rough customers. A short red-haired guy in black studded leather armor with a bronze facemask fashioned after the likeness of a lamb named Trantox, an assassin (played by Jenn) and a bigger guy in bronze armor painted black with a disfigured face named Dravor, a black guard (played by Gil). Both were ruffians from Posionwood. All three dark candlelit and pipe-smoke-limned figures awaited their mutual contact to show while they soaked in the reeking ambience of the place. They were waiting for a bard named Rantcor (former secret contact of the late Cantra).

To Be Continued…

[do_widget id=”cool_tag_cloud-4″ title=false]

Blog, Arvan, and Articles Update

About the BlogWizard-Skull_web.jpg

So, blog entries will be slowing down a great deal here since the current campaign (the one started after A Giant in Xuun ended so anti-climatically) has somewhat stalled out and we’ve lost a player due to work schedule. So it is uncertain as to when I will begin to post another campaign blog the next may be the campaign I will be mastering but that may be a few months in the coming.

New Articles

However, I will be releasing a new article here and there as I get time to edit and post them, the next article will be a Tabletop Meditations #11: Elves, and should be posted around Weds or Thurs next week on this site.

Progress on the Arvan Setting

Work on the campaign setting book – Arvan: Land of Dragons – continues as the illustrations are being mostly by me at this point with that kind of work load everything else is going to have to suffer. Who would’ve guessed a World Spanning work take so much illustration? <:)

The actual release date for Arvan is unknown right now due to the bog down on the artwork but I’ll try to keep everyone updated as work progresses.

Attention Artists/Illustrators

Sales have been better this quarter, thanks to all those who’ve supported us, so I am fielding for 1 or 2 illustrators and in particular we are looking for a Cartographic Artist. If any of you are interested email us with an approximate rate for full page, 1/2 page, and 1/4 page pieces. Please note are project budgets are always really small.

Other New Releases

As the work on Arvan is taking alot longer than we had originally thought and scheduled for any new releases for this year will have to be pushed back even possibly into next year. These releases being: The Monster Magnus Vol. II, The Great Grimoire Vol. II, and the Complete Character Codex (print only).

Sincerely,

Robert A. Neri Jr.

On Facebook

A Giant in Xuun Pt.12: Tower of Darkness

The threshold where Nezor found himself extended as a ramp falling just about 10 ft. shy ofPassage into darkness the statue which stood at the center of the rather large ground floor chamber. It was lit dimly by a dull blue light that hid most details and seemed to deepen even the slightest shadow and intensify the darkness. The room was of an alien design its floor was like a bowl its surface sinking towards the center and in place of a staircase was a smooth ramp winding up to a balcony shaped into the likeness of large serpent with fangs bared. Set in the sculpted eyes of the balcony were a pair of fire rubies which glared with an angry red light adding a tinge of menace to the eerie chamber as it mixed with the source-less blue glow.

The statue which dominated the center of the room was only about half of Nezor’s height but was masterfully wrought of black marble with a pair of glinting ruby eyes. It was of a stylized Naga warrior armed with a master-work steel pole-sword. Phenox and Zacha having bypassed the entryway trap came to either side of the giant. Nezor strode to the end of the entryway ramp and stepped hesitantly onto the depressed floor. Phenox moved around him and to the rear of the black statue at the bottom of the spiraling ramp-way.

Suddenly the statues ruby eyes lit with a violent magic red glare and it struck with its steel pole-sword at Nezor whom was barely able to move in time to parry the blow. The giant replied with a titanic club strike followed with a massive backswing either of which blow could’ve brought any flesh and blood opponent down. The statue was chipped in a few places. Zacha cast a spell and filled the air around the statue with dancing glittering multi-colored lights to no effect whatsoever. Phenox made his way up the ramp towards an archway he had spotted at the top behind the snake-head balcony.

Nezor again struck valiantly at the animated statue knocking of some larger bits of oily black marble. Then a shadow beast stretched from the darkness behind Zacha striking at her with its inky claws. She dodged. Another unexpectedly emerged from the shadows near Nezor whose armor absorbed the damage and he in turn stomped on the beast nearly killing it. A third clawed at Phenox engaging him in battle on the spiral ramp. Nezor in a desperate attempt to reduce the number of enemies swept his club in a wide arc (fortunately Zacha was behind him) slaying both shadow beasts within his reach and cracking the statue a little more.

Nezor once again parried the slash of the pole-sword just before the veil of darkness fell over the whole room blotting out all vision and light. It was an opaque and nearly palpable darkness as if pure shadow had been dumped into the air like ink in water. Zacha shouted out, “It’s a Globe of Darkness!” She paused for only one tense second, “he’s here.”

Phenox: “Shadow Scale right!?”

The grim-warrior continued to fight blindly and then killing the shadow beast with a lucky blow proceeded up the ramp to the balcony. He could hear the mystery mage slithering over the stone floor from the archway up there. Nezor in a panic made another wide arc with his weapon cracking what he assumed was the statue. Then he felt the pole-sword drive itself through his armor and deep between his ribs. His pained groan echoed across the black chamber.

Suddenly it felt as if the very air that surrounded Nezor had congealed and time seemed to melt into a thick morass. He felt the magic take hold of him, he was a victim of a slow spell. The giant could hear Phenox shouting something but his voice was distorted, slowed down. No doubt the grim-warrior was a victim of the spell as well. Nezor again swept with his club and in his frustration strained his muscles to the point of agony. A sudden bolt of lightning arced through the room illuminating Phenox as it struck him but nothing else. Then it was gone.

Zacha (whispering to the giant): “I’m gonna swap places with him, so he’ll be right behind you okay?”

The giant wound up his strike and stopped suddenly when he heard Zacha’s voice scream pathetically, “it failed I’m still here, still HERE!”

Nezor was barely able to deflect an incoming blow presumably from the statue’s pole-sword. He replied with a crushing blow but could tell the thing was still standing. He wound up again and suddenly couldn’t move a muscle. Another spell had taken hold of him and he was unable to move or defend himself. Another flash of lightning revealed the death of Zacha’s familiar who was engaging the cloaked figure on the balcony. Then Zacha cried out in pain and the giant could hear the sound of her corpse flopping onto the tower floor.

Nezor felt the searing pain of the pole-sword as it jabbed deep into his thick neck again and again cutting deeper each time. He felt his own blood run down his chest and fill his shiny plate-mail. All the sounds in room began to drown in the darkness and seemed so very far away then a horribly sharp pain stung into his neck and rippled throughout his body. The last thing he heard was the crunch of steel meeting bone.

The End

 

Campaign Played between October 2015 and January 2016.