Dark's Age of Worms IC

[Lord Of Mantas]

Louise

Louise took in the sight of the secret arena, then looked around approvingly at everyone.

"It seems we have finally cleansed this place. Good job to everyone." She cracked her neck. "Now, all that's left is to finish clearing everything out." Her eyes were drawn to the gem in the statue's forehead. "Who wants to bet that's trapped in some way?"

Spoiler: Actions

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Louise would like to roll her knowledges to see if she can a) recognize the humanoid the statue depicts or b) recognize the symbol with the gauntleted hand. She will then descend into the arena and take 25 on Search for a total of 34 to see if the statue is trapped in any way, then attempt to prise the gem out if it isn't.

Carefully, Louise approached the statue (which, after some brief consideration, she recognized as the god Hextor) and rubbed her hands together.

"Alright, Hextor... What is it going to take to get you to part with that thing?"

[TheDarkDM]

Secure in victory, Louse takes the time to circle the arena and descend the western stairs. She finds herself back in the Hextorite's inner guard room, and from there it is a short walk back to the double doors into the arena floor. The statue of Hextor looms twenty feet tall above her, and wary of further tricks she takes several long minutes to examine it fully. The factotum locates no traps, though she does note the statue is poorly secured to the floor and dangerously top-heavy - a strong enough shove would send it crashing into the balcony above.

[CockroachTeaParty]

Reynauld secured his weapons, feeling the magic of Simone's strength-enhancing spell finally fade away.
"Indeed, the church of Hextor was kind enough to donate quite a few arms and armor to our cause. We might as well start a pile; the entrance to the arena is as good enough spot as any."

While Louise busied herself searching for traps, Reynauld began the thankless business of stripping the cultists of their weapons and armor. He was especially keen to secure the suit of plate male owned by the cultist's leader; although it would require refitting to his frame, a suit of full plate was a rare and precious thing indeed. A lick of paint to remove any trace of Hextorite imagery and Reynauld could almost see himself shining grossly incandescent in steel.

[Othniel]

Corinne

The Bard's eyes practically sparkled with greed as she pondered how much profit the group could glean from this encounter, and how far it might go toward getting her out of the town forever. "I'll help! The sooner we strip this place of anything valuable, the better."

[TheDarkDM]

Scouring the train of dead bodies left in the party's wake, Reynauld gathers a true hoard at the entrance to the Hextorite arena. Meanwhile, Louise scales the statue of the dread god, fearless in the face of blasphemy. Reaching its neck, she gazes at her own reflection in the massive garnet inset in the stone, and with careful application of her dagger eventually prises it loose. Returning to the last stand of the lesser clerics, Reynauld discovers as small wooden chest beneath one of the straw cots, as well as a key in the female Hextorite's pouch. In the inner sanctuary, Simone's attention is drawn to the crimson tapestry hanging from the walls - pushing it aside with the head of her mace, she discovers the near-invisible seam of a secret compartment. Nearer to the entrance, Corrinne opens the door to a chamber holding two beds against the east wall, a long, wooden table along the south wall, two stools, and a weapons rack along the west wall. A suit of leather armor lies on the table with a variety of tools spread out around it. Moved by a sudden intuition, she reaches around the frames of the beds, eventually pulling away a small velvet pouch secreted therein. Finally, Dismas uncovers a loose flagstone in the warren that housed the temple's lesser fanatics, pulling forth a pair of treasures no doubt long-hidden.

Spoiler: OOC

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Hooookay! You all find:

8 x Longspears
10 x Daggers
8 x Studded Leather Armor
1 x Leather Armor

5 x Masterwork Greataxes
5 x Chain Shirts
6 x Composite (+2) Longbows
6 x Javelins
1 x Longsword
180 x Arrows

2 x Half Plate
3 x Masterwork Heavy Flail
1 x Light Steel Shield
2 x Heavy Steel Shield
1 x Masterwork Light Crossbow
20 x Bolts

12 x Everburning Torches
12 x Potion of Cure Light Wounds
1 x Potion of Protection from Arrows
1 x Wand of Cure Light Wounds (41/50)
1 x Scroll of Silence
1 x Scroll of Dispel Magic
1 x +1 Full Plate
1 x Ring of Protection +1

Multiple Keys

Gold Holy Symbol of Hextor (100 gp)
Broken Blade of a Silver Ceremonial Dagger (50 gp)
Golden Necklace (100 gp)
Silver Ring Engraved with Small Emeralds (200 gp)
Dragon Talon Necklace (50 gp)
Forehead Garnet (800 gp)

226 gp
20 pp

[Lord Of Mantas]

Louise

Proudly cradling the garnet in her hands, a covetous gleam crossed Louise's eyes as she gingerly set it into the quickly-growing pile of loot begun by Corrine and Reynauld. Forget just being able to get out of Diamond Lake - with the haul they would get from this, once all this business with the cultists and the greasy businessmen was finally dealt with, they would live like kings.

I'll build a library that will put Allustan's to shame. My twilight years, spent curled up in an armchair surrounded by books and tea. It will be beautiful.

Having deposited the garnet in the pile, Louise went around to help the others with the looting, and thoroughly checked over the chest, secret compartment, and lone unopened door for traps.

Spoiler: Actions

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I will first take 10 for 24, then 20 for 34 on each above item for traps. Let me know if I turn up anything.

[TheDarkDM]

Taking the time to examine the sole remaining door for traps, and moving on to the secret compartment and chest, Louise uncovers a cunning magic trap upon the secret compartment. Acid-etched with a faint Hextorite holy symbol, she fears it would flood any offending hand with negative energy should the right pass phrase not be uttered. However, both chest and door prove safe, and a quick test of the various keys looted from the citadel's clerics defeat their locks. The chest contains a wealth of treasure, while the door opens to reveal a cramped spartan chamber. A small bed is set in the corner to the left. Next to the bed is a short table holding a leather-bound book, an inkpot, a stone key, and several scrolls. A small chair with velvet cushions sits before the table. On the wall to the right stands a weapons rack that holds a mace, two flails, and a light crossbow. A wooden chest rests below the rack.

Spoiler: OOC

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Inside the lesser clerics' chest, you find:

1 x Wand of Enlarge Person (42/50)
200 gp
Jeweled Bracer (1000 gp)

[Tychris1]

Cordellia territorially zeroed in on the leather bound tome, her eyes narrowing with catlike precision, and lips peeling to hiss as she staked her claim on the knowledge therein. Violet eyes awash with divinatory magic, hair askew from hot air, and clothing singed from hellfire she looked the part of a mad cultist but paid no mind to the irony of it. Slowly stalking through the chamber she carefully examined her steps and looked around with sidereal vision but inexorably focused in on the book and scrolls that lured her like a siren’s song.

”Mountains of crude wrought iron GARBAGE for the mediocre commoners to swing around but now she finds her true prize. Small, nimble, and expertly hidden away like a diamond in the rough.” She giggled to herself laughing haughtily then added in Elvish “Like moi.”

[TheDarkDM]

Approaching the low table, Cordellia detects the telltale sign of magic radiating from the pile of scrolls. Hefting one experimentally, she unrolls it to reveal a seemingly blank page - without further divination, its secrets remain hidden. The leather-bound tome, however, is written in common. Filled with neat, compact handwriting it is clear after only a few pages that it is the journal of the Hextorite high priest, a man named Theldrick. Its first entry dated several months ago, it appears to chart the progress of the Ebon Triad in claiming the mines and delving into the mysteries hidden below. Much of it is minutia, more general's log than personal musings, but a few entries catch Cordellia's eye:

Praise Be to the Scourge of Battle,

The Faceless One grows increasingly concerned. That addled beast Grallak Kur has yet to provide new insights into the Overgod’s nature. The crude missives he sends speak of the worms, of a slumbering power that must be awoken, but nothing more. I wish he would go back to the black pit that spawned him if he has nothing more to offer.

The Faceless One tells me this ties into an ancient figure, a being of great power. Of course, he tells me little else. He enjoys keeping his secrets, but he forgets that they flourish only behind the protection of Hextor. His latest taunt is a scroll that he tells me contains all the answers I seek. Of course, the fool wrote it in a cipher. Were it not for the dictates of the Ebon Triad, I would lead my troops into their damnable labyrinth and kill every last bird and wizard within it.

Grallak is the key. Thank the Scourge that he trusts me and not the Faceless One. Otherwise, I doubt the Faceless One would bother imparting anything to us. We cannot trust these mages. When the Overgod arises, I think it will be time to settle some old scores.



Under the Herald’s Watchful Eye We Conquer,

Grallak Kur has finally yielded a useful clue. I personally delivered it to the labyrinth, and the Faceless one giggled like a blood addled berserker when he saw the message. Grallak spoke of the worms again, of course. He says that even now they stir and writhe. The world is like an apple infested with them. All seems well for now, but soon they burst through the skin and swarm across the land. Still, part of this vision troubles me. Grallak spoke of a great power behind them, but the Ebon Triad teaches that these worms will awaken the Overgod. Is there some other power at hand here that we cannot see? Is it friend or foe?

The Faceless One knows more, but he of course has little to say. Perhaps Grallak has invented everything. His monstrous kin are few in number and battered after their pilgrimage through the Underdark. If he is an imposter or trickster, we may need to root him out of this place. In that case, our agents must make another supply run. Six coils of rope, and perhaps bows and more arrows, should do the trick. With the petitioners leading the way we can uncover any ambushes they have within the cliffs.

[Lord Of Mantas]

Louise

For the moment unaware of the journal Cordellia had found and the writings within, Louise was focused more on the secret compartment.

"There is a trap on this compartment here, rigged to hurt anyone who doesn't use the right passcode. I'm going to try and disarm it. Everyone, stand back."

Spoiler: Actions

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Disable Device time!

(1d20+9)[15]

[TheDarkDM]

Reaching out with lead dust, Louise attempts to disrupt the runic glyph powering the trap. Unfortunately, her hand slips at the wrong moment, and a jolt of crimson emergy arcs from the stone. The older factotum's body is wracked with the stuff of raw anti-life, but she manages to resist the worst of it. Realizing it is only a matter of time before the trap resents, she slides open the compartment and withdraws the box within.

Spoiler: OOC

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Inside the secret compartment you find:

1 x Pearl of Power (1st)

Golden Chalice (250 gp)
2 x Silver Holy Symbols of Hextor (50 gp)
Silver Dagger with Jeweled Hilt (150 gp)

[Lord Of Mantas]

Louise

"Gah!"

Gritting her teeth, Louise was able to summon her force of will and power through the worst of the spell; however, she proved unable to resist the energy entirely. Quickly grabbing the loot inside, she wiped her brow.

"Okay, well... good news is, got the treasure."

Carrying it over to the pile, she carefully set everything down, then headed back to Theldrik's Office to help join the search there, tottering over the the chest below the weapon rack.

Spoiler: Actions

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Take 20 on search for 34 to check for traps on the chest.

[TheDarkDM]

Taking several minutes to examine Theldrick's chest, Louise is confident in its safety. Another of the keys from his body is tested, and the iron latch gives way. Beyond the treasures within, the party quickly determines the weapons in the rack to be mundane examples of their kind, and thus of questionable worth.

Spoiler: OOC

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The chest holds:

70 gp

A fist-sized gold bust of a dwarf wearing a jeweled crown (2400 gp)

[Tychris1]

Feverishly flipping through pages growing increasingly bored Cordellia finally found some juicy gossip of relevance to her and her eyes sparkled like the stars in the night. A wicked smile curved across her face and she tucked the journal away in her fine overcoat for further research later. Stuffing the visibly blank but magically obscured scrolls away in her purse she stood proudly and turned to the rest of the party.

"I do believe that's every facet of interest thoroughly ransacked and raided here my lovelies," She tutted proudly as she used her rapier as a walking aid to swagger out of the hidden room "But it would seem as if there is yet more mystery and danger to be had. Something of worms waiting beneath the surface for an omen to usher them forth, a labyrinth deeper still filled with a wizard cult and birds, an addled deranged beast far from home hailing from the filthy Drow realm beneath the earth, and a cliff wherein he resides laden with traps and ambushes."

She shook her golden hair as if recovering from the whiplash of information she had deciphered from the journal. "All in all it looks like we'll be needing many supplies and many more blessings from your Gods if we're to see this through. Diamond Lake is in for a New Age. One of Dashing Erudite Heros or Writhing Worms well we'll have to let the Bards sort that out. Lets depart and plot our next move over mounds of fine treasure and finer drink." She cattily and saucily pouted her lips at Corrine before sashaying off.

[TheDarkDM]

Gathering up the spoils of war, the party retreats back to the central chamber and the lift therein. The wooden planks creak ominously as load after load of tempered steel comes to rest, but it proves sturdy enough to ascend under Reynauld's power. Rising back towards the Dourstone mine is an odd sensation, as the strangely cool air of the secret temple is replaced by the rank stench of Diamond Lake. The brake to the lift eventually clatters into place, revealing the secret chamber much the same as when you descended. There is, however, a new occupant, a small brown-furred weasel that looks at you with a strange intelligence. Perking its head up, it chitters in response to your approach, turning to point the way out of the room.

[CockroachTeaParty]

Reynauld gazes quizzically at the weasel, then shoulders a load of spoils.
"Hmph. Must be someone's familiar. Does Allustan own a weasel? We know the way out of here, no harm in letting it traipse alongside us for now."

[Lord Of Mantas]

Louise

Louise hoisted her own pack.

"I have no objection to that."

And I confess that I am curious as to who he belongs to.

She continued on her way, following the weasel.

[TheDarkDM]

Exiting the elevator chamber, the mysterious weasel leads the way back to the abandoned mine interchange. Eventually, a light appears around a bend in the tunnels, swiftly followed by the low echo of voices. The weasel scampers fearlessly into the flickering illumination, revealing a pair of Kallak's flunkies gnawing on cold sausage. Moving to the feet of the scrawnier of the pair, the weasel ascends his tattered cloak with practiced ease, to be greeted with a morsel and a pat on the head. It is the other rogue who speaks, however.

"That was fast. Job done then?"

[CockroachTeaParty]

Reynauld spared a scowl at the squatting lowlifes.
"I'd say our task is one-third completed. We must needs return to rest, recuperate, and reequip. Did Smenk post you here to keep an eye on things?"

[Tychris1]

Cordellia squeed in delight as the weasel appeared and followed it with intense delight as she cooed and tried to convince it to come to join her but lost most of her spark upon seeing it rejoin its master. She briefly waved to the tiny animal before glowering at the two ruffians "The part relevant to Smenk is that his problem is far past what he initially suspected and we're going to need more time. The good news is that his problem is also nowhere near as organized as what we've got put together, nor is it as trusting as I'm sure your proprietor only put you here to ensure our safety. Well. We're safe now." She placed a single fine finger on her scorched chin before waving off the goons.

"You can scurry off now."

[Lord Of Mantas]

Louise

Louise said nothing, but remained alert, her bow in hand but not in a threatening or ready posture.

[TheDarkDM]

The thuggish pair exchange a look at Reynauld and Cordellia's responses, but when their eyes turn back they only shrug.

"We're here for you, and to keep any lookie-loos away from the old mine. Come on, we'll lead you back."

Retrieving their torch from a nearby sconce, Kullen's cronies light the way back to the surface. The cool night air floods your nostrils, a soothing anodyne after the bitter chill of the temple below. The moon shines above Diamond Lake, its soft light wrapping the town in shadows and hiding some of its jagged edges. The odd lantern moves on the streets below, while the main square blazes as ever with desperate life.

"We'll be at the Dog then. Come and fetch us when you want to go down again."

[Tychris1]

Leaving the others to tend with counting coppers and haggling over how much a particularly sharp piece of wood was worth Cordellia retired to her master's household, already gingerly anticipating cleaning herself off from the days disgusting endeavors, and reuniting with her precious ball of fur and feathers. She'd have a whole load of work on her slate anyway, what with magic scrolls to decipher, spells to learn, and whole bickering cult of wizards to overthrow. Rolling onto her bed and kicking her shoes off, Cordellia rotely groomed then nuzzled her adopted monstrosity, tracing elven letters upon its petite golden beak, spelling out her parents' names, and stared at the ceiling of her living quarters. A few subtle scorch marks pocked it from the occasional overly theatrical display or experiment and while appalling to her at first for ruining the chic patina cultivated by the Wizard it now gave her a feeling of being outside staring at the clouds. She continued her meditative state on such matters, pondering the severity of her mission, the people that Gods or Fate had deigned worthy to accompany her in such an undertaking, and in the deepest recesses of her gilded mind the series of failures and neglected duties that brought her here. But she wasn't some impetuous 70-year-old parvenu debutante anymore. She was Cordellia Farenha, Adventurer, Evoker of Splendrous Sights, and the Fire that Burned Hextor. The next morning she would consult with her Master and expand her arcane repertoire but for now? Tonight?

Tonight she would simply expand her wineskin.

[Lord Of Mantas]

Louise

Louise spent the time between the end of the current expedition and the next doing what she normally did - namely, running errands for Allustan and perusing his books after that had been taken care of - but with a lot more daydreaming than usual. A couple of times, she ended up having to remake a pot of tea or spending more time than necessary dusting a shelf as she found herself lost in thought.

I have the money for it, now. It's just a matter of dealing with all of these loose ends. Once those are gone, it's goodbye to Diamond Lake for good. Goodbye to the soot and the dust. Hello to a nice, quiet, well-furnished abode in the countryside.

[TheDarkDM]

Descending the low hills into Diamond Lake, the party separates to seek what solace their beds can provide. Buoyed by victory, sleep comes easily, but there is a turn sometime in the dead of night. Contentment turns to unease, and each of you wakes in a cold sweat with the dawn, minds feverish with half-remembered visions of decay and writhing worms. Even the dappled shadows of the morning sun seem deep and hostile in that fugue, the vague patterns evoking nothing so much as your own death masks. It is a feeling that fades with breakfast, but slowly, and not without leaving some trace of itself behind.

Taking time to prepare her magics, Cordellia turns her attention to the seemingly blank parchments recovered from the high priest's lair. Grogon toys with a bit of carpet at her feet as the elf's eyes flare to arcane life, revealing dizzying patters of strange and eldritch symbols hidden on the pages. For all her intelligence and learning, Cordellia can make no sense of the scrolls which move from draconic to abyssal to infernal seemingly at random. She suspects it is some form of cipher, but one well beyond her ability to decode.

Further into town, Reynauld pushes aside the gloom of half-remembered dreams to travel to the Osgood Smithy, the premier armorsmith in the region. Osgood and his seven apprentices are already hard at work when the crusader arrives, though the smith returns his hammer carefully to a wall peg as he notices new custom.

"Reynauld, wasn't it? You're that fine Pelorite chap they've been talking about? What brings you to my smithy?"

Presented with the magical armor stripped from Theldrik's corpse, Osgood examines it for a long moment before allowing a low whistle.

"It's not often we see magicked steel in these parts. It's a lucky thing you came to me, Reynauld - I've just enough kill to work this into shape. Even have one of my boys sand of this unsightly symbol."

Handing the breast plate back, he drummed his fingers on the table.

"I'll need six hundred gold orbs to see it through, this one will mean a long night or two for all of us. If that's agreeable, come back tomorrow 'round noon and we'll see where we stand."

[Tychris1]

Parry, parry, thrust. Burning hands. Snap of the fingers and an explosion of flame. Then worms. Countless worms. Cordellia scrunched up her nose as she thought on her ingrained combat dance of flashing fancy steel and kindling power turned macabre. It repeated the motion when the magics on the page eluded her with writing in languages she recognized but considered unsavory to learn. Transcribing what she saw to a separate piece of paper in ink that did not require arcane sight to decipher she rolled it up carefully and went to her master’s side.

”When you’re not busy Master I found a strange piece of paper in the clutches of a warrior cult deep beneath the bowels of Diamond’s Lake that I suspect was furtively ensnared in a literary labyrinth by a separate Wizard Cult. Most of it is written in the tongues of monsters and fiends so if you have the chance to decipher it I would be most appreciative.”

Later in the day she stopped by Taggin’s, procuring an assortment of components for spell research, toys and amenities for Grogon, a set of Dragonchess pieces for her personal use, and ordered a sublime Royal Outfit from the storage rooms of the finest tailors in Greyhawk. Idly gossiping and chit chatting as she let Taggin take her measurements Cordellia felt the malaise of her warped midnight routine wash off of her and tipped the man five gold for his time and care. She briefly inspected the town for a caretaker for Grogon while she was out adventuring and cult delving so as to not impinge on Allustan’s work and novitiate relationship with the Gray Elf and settled on a miner's widow to care for the Owlbear. Paying her partially in advance and at a hefty salary she gave her careful instructions and timings for the young prince's care aswell as conducting oneself in the Allustan estate. Traveling to Tidwoad's she beamed and preened at the sight of his construct bouncer, eyes wide remarking on its wondrous appearance, and occasionally made mention of it in between inspecting signet rings. Unsatisfied with the collection she hand drafted her initials, some lavish flames, and the arcane sigil of Evocation for the man to custom commission a ring out of then procured a variety of jewels and trinkets for herself in the meantime. Leaving with a beauteous chain, rubies, a choker with a fine onyx, and several other fashionable accessories Cordellia nearly pranced through town as she returned to her Master's estate. The rest of her time was spent in idle practice transcribing and practicing spells to add to her repetoire.

Spoiler: Gold spending

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Spend 350 Gold on a Royal Outfit, Custom Signet Ring, and a variety of jewelry
Spend 100 gold getting toys/amenities/A 6 month long nanny for Grogon
50 Gold on a Personal Dragon Chess setup
400 Gold on Materials for writing spells
100 Gold on a variety of alcohols

1,000 Gold Spent

[CockroachTeaParty]

Reynauld did not feel ready to face the day until he had basked in the glory of the morning sun for several long minutes. With renewed resolve, he lugged much of the reclaimed arms and armor seized from the cultists to the smithy.

"An agreeable cost to refit this armor, my good man. We can take some of that payment out of the value of these other weapons and armor we have to sell. It will do my heart some good to know they will be put to a better purpose."

[PepperP.]

Simone had also spent the morning in prayers and meditation. Pelor had made clear what she should do with her time and new fortune. Simone spent the day tending to those in need, the sick and the poor, granting every request for healing and gold that she received.

[TheDarkDM]

Having enjoyed a day of sudden wealth, the party retires once more for the night, to a sleep blissfully free of writhing dreams. When he visits Osgood, Reynauld is greeted by the end result of the master blacksmith's sleepless efforts - the black plate has been resized perfectly to his broad frame, and the fell symbol on its breastplate has been scoured away. In its place is a faint mark in navy lacquer above his heart, the stylized "O" the adorns all of Osgood's work.

The least liukely to draw attention, Corinne ventures into the Feral Dog to alert Kullen's men to the party's departure, and the two knaves depart shortly after to follow your tracks up to the abandoned mine shaft. Once more the shadows of the earth engulf you as you retrace your steps, eventually emerging into the lesser-traveled tunnels of the Dourstone Mine. The echoes of toiling miners guide you away from their scrutiny, until you stand once more atop the hidden lift.

[Lord Of Mantas]

Louise

Louise stepped onto the lift, nervously adjusting the straps of her pack. Once it began to descend again, as the party descended downward, she looked to the others.

"So, if I remember rightly, there are still two passages left that we did not explore yesterday - one to the north, one to the rest. How do we want to handle this?"