Deciding to travel to the Straxx, the party bid the Anfoor farewell and traveled below the treeline on the old-spine mountains. Using the vision they had seen of the Selutarr’s original capital city, Selûnarra, Tilia picked a tree she remembered and used it to travel via plants. One-by-one the party ran through the glowing opening in the tree and arrived in a much different climate. Acid rain poured from a grey and brown sky, burning their skin. The acrid and sulpheric smell of burnt soot met their noses.
Around them was a disorrienting large city. Even on the periphery, the city loomed large around them. Massive throughfares of arcane contraptions and odd, curvy architecture met their eyes. The place was both beautiful and desolate. No sounds of birds, no signs of grass or greenery met their ears and eyes. At a quick glance, this city was dead and either cursed or damaged beyond its capacity to support life.
Venturing forward, the party found an immensely and mind-boggling large and complex city before them. While some buildings remained in tact, the vast majority were destoryed – seemingly by a central pressure wave originating from further into the city. The ruined city streets still contained glowing arcane devices suspended in the air above them, as well as various spots of intense magical activity. Some areas seemed to be some sort of still functional statis fields. Others seemed to be ruined engines or other impossibly complex devices lost to time.
The party concluded that whatever happened here, the city was still extremely dangerous. Proceeding with some caution, the party decided to send Teal and Tilia ahead to scout in the bestial forms. The two surveyed the internal city and found a large area of glassified no mans land in the center of the city, along with a singular towering pyramidal structure in the very center of the fields of glass. A little ways away, where the glass field ended and the ruined buildings began, Teal and Tilia discovered two illusory encamptments. Large flying abberant creatures were being shot down by massive balista bolts 12-15 ft long.
Deciding to head back, the party gathered and discussed their next steps. While resting, some magic was used to begin asking questions to dieties. The expendation of magic seemed to draw in magic eating creatures (the same flying abberations seen on the scouting mission). The party did battle with one of these creatures and dispatched it. Hollowing it out and skinning it, for the use of its anti-magic hide, the party spotted more creatures coming their way and fled to a nearby area of intense magic energy emanation. There they huddled down and decided to contact Alura for reinforcements.
Ofter the next two days, Alura and her senior acolytes teleported members of the Arcana Pansophical in to establish a base camp and prepare for whatever impending multi-lich engagement might be on the horizon. After some discussion, the party decided to take the initiative and steal Illiamarra’s phylacteries from her fortress in Elaenagoth and Kangaxxian’s floating city of Elyveshara. They would split their forces. The party would sneak into Elaenagoth, while Alura took a team of senior pansophical members into Elyveshara.
Caedmon and some of the Pansophical reserves would stay behind to gaurd the camp.
On the night of the 16th, with 6 days left before the arrival of the Straxx, Alura teleported the party to the location they described to her near Emorin – the temple of Selune they had seen in their vision. She then teleported herself home via teleportation circle.
The party rested outside of the temple of Selune, then entered. Alura went home to gather her resources and planned to set out towards where the party told her the heart of the titan was – so she could find her way to Elyveshara above the moltencore.
Inside, the party found the temple of Selune defiled, seemingly long ago. Where once crystal clear waters joined a fountain, they found a fountain of corpses and aquaducts of blood running into a shimmering portal blocking their way. The temple had been cursed to house the spirits of the undying mother’s daughters – the daughters of Kiranasalee herself. Each required a price to be paid – tortured memories, regrets, and experiences. Jerry found an ocarina, that when played allowed him entry. Teal followed behind – but suffered the effects of several layers of the shimmering wall. Ari, Falco, and Tilia focused on disabling the layers of the portals. Teal and Pentagion explored the side chambers and experimented with holy water, learning – that the purifying waters allowed the spirit a temporary reprieve from its torment to ask for help. Eventually, the party figured out they could toss the ocarina back to others to play – and they all made their way in.
Inside, the party found the defiled statue of Selune mounded up with ancient bloated corpses. They worked out the riddle of the symbol of selune using a moonbeam spell to simulate the inlet of moonlight that would happen at night.
This revealed a chamber with a portal that took them to the center of the floating city of Elaenagoth in its underdark location somewhere beneath Arklan. There, the party quickly shuffled below into a sunken garden, before Teal wild shaped into a bat to go explore the city. Getting too close, Teal triggered some sort of proximity alarm and was shot down by large arcano-mechanical turrets.
The party spoke to the Anfoor and were given three questions to seek that which is (knowledge about the world in its current form). The Anfoor freely offered their knowledge to you, but said their ability to use the observatory was reserved for three fact-finding missions. The use of the device seemed to take a physical toll on the Anfoor – hence the limitation.
You asked about three topics:
Where are Illiamarra’s Phylacteries and where is She? The party was shown a visson of a flying city in three different places – floating above a volcano, somewhere in a dark cavernous space in the underdark, and buried beneath tons of ice in the north. The one above the moltencore is named Elyveshara. The one in the underdark is named Elaenagoth. Finally, the one in the ice is named Nelheserin. To get the floating cities, the party was shown hidden entry points buried in temples and ancient ruins (in selune’s temple, the husk of a dead earth titan, and the tomb of the betrayers of the Gith). Illiamarra seemed to be currently residing in the city of Sigil in the outlands. She was seen working on the revenmancer’s claw and inserting some sort of large soul gem into it.
What are the other liches doing and where are they? The Anfoor worked the observatory again to show the liches residing in their floating cities. This seemed to cause him significant pain, suggesting the areas were heavily warded from divination magics. Despite the toll and strain on his body he pushed through. Both liches seemed to be working on various devices, but had drawings nearby of the Straxx. Around them were all manner of experiments and instruments. Both seemed to also be watching Illiamarra through large crystalline orbs.
What is the most direct path through the Straxx to the Control room? With the final question, the Anfoor used what remained of their strength to show you the shortest pathway through the Straxx. The device was immense and contained many levels. The vision of the enhanced scrying observation jumped from one area to the next through 6 different levels and multiple portals. The monument appeared to a labyrinth of different biomes and settings. After the disorienting jumping, the Anfoor settled upon a large control room that contained a massive Orrery that was spinning rapidly (out of control). Several pieces of the device appeared to be damaged. Beneath the spinning Orrery was a large well that showed a spectral star scape. Beyond the Orrery, a large window revealed a similar star scape. With some contemplation, the star scape appeared to be the Astral Sea. After a moment, the stars cape changed to a fiery looking landscape – suggesting the Straxx was still jumping
From the young adult’s novel based on The Mysteries of Arklan
Icy waters off the coast of Norggheim
Disheveled and forlorn, Teal stood alone on the starboard deck of The Northerly Wind. In the cold, clammy mist, his usually buoyant curls were plastered limply to his head like inky blue-black sheets of wet nori. It was late morning—almost noon—but the dim glow of the daystar through the wispy fog made it seem much earlier than it really was. Save for the mewing of a solitary gull, the whoosh of water and intermittent shattering of ice cleaved by the ship’s bow were the only sounds punctuating the steady howling of the wind and the ever-present low hum of the ship’s magical defenses against icebergs. Whipped into whitecaps by the sharp-edged north winds of Norggheim, the water gleamed dully, assuming countless shades of dark blue-green in the fitful sunlight. Towards the west, the sky was blotted with dark violet streaks, offset by a brightness at its lower regions that bespoke the presence of ice further inland. By contrast, its pallid aspect over the Sea of Arklan was more uniform, a blend of silvery-gray tones resembling the effect of water-color painting.
There was a stark, primal beauty to the scene, but Teal’s dark blue gaze seemed directed wholly elsewhere. Clad only in the sealskin pants that he had worn to sleep, he seemed oblivious to the piercing cold despite the visible wreathes of freezing vapor created by his breathing. Glancing down at his wrist, he saw that the chafing from the ropes had almost completely faded. But the events of the previous night were permanently branded on his mind’s eye. He shuddered violently.
The evening had begun on a note of bliss seldom enjoyed by adventurers traveling in wilder regions of the realm. The new, physical aspect of their relationship was an unmapped Mount Celestia for Teal and Caedmon, and they eagerly availed themselves of the rare privacy afforded by their cabin to explore its delights. The last thing Teal remembered after their hungry lovemaking was nuzzling the crook of Caedmon’s neck, drifting to sleep amidst the beloved scent of juniper and home.
Then he found himself adrift, alone, and surrounded by water on all sides. The familiar sight of dry land to the west was gone and intermittent flashes of lightning revealed the turbulent state of a roiling, black sea. Under a dark and moonless sky, the waters churned with increasing intensity until they reached a crescendo: something broke the seething surface with incredible force, sending towering waves out in every direction. A tension in the air hinted at a furious presence much larger than his own, paralyzing Teal with maddening fear. His senses all but overwhelmed, he could do little but watch in mute horror as an impossibly large tentacle emerged from the depths.
The next thing he knew he was back inside—not holding Caedmon but bending over Val, the blade of Dagon’s Reach not even an inch from her throat! Wriggling and writhing in a helical motion, the tentacles around the blade danced expectantly to a rhythm akin to the crashing black waters of Teal’s earlier vision. With the reflexive gestures and quietly uttered words of a quickly-conceived spell, he vanished in a shimmering mist and returned to his own cabin. He found the door of the cabin unlocked, and roused his beloved. Though his eyelids were heavy with sleep, Caedmon had patiently shaken himself awake, and—after some earnest pleading—bound Teal up, ever so tenderly, for the rest of the night. Somehow, they had managed to fall asleep again, but the image of the dark, ravenous waters haunted Teal’s fevered dreams. When he awoke, the pale wintry light of a Raven Queen morning was shining through the little window and his bonds had been untied. Caedmon had evidently risen earlier and left the cabin.
Reeling from his recollection of the night’s horrors, Teal had wandered listlessly onto the deck. And now he stood staring out into the icy sea, his eyes half-blinded by hot tears that grew cold and froze as they slid down his cheeks. Was this an omen? A threat? A prophecy of betrayal? Or worse … a revelation of his true nature? Was he evil? Inwardly he lamented the cruel irony of his predicament. After countless trials, finally to be reunited with the beloved friend who meant the world—nay, more!—to him; wanting nothing more than to guard Caedmon against the wrath of the undead fiend whom their party had aggrieved—only to become a more immediate, insidious threat to their very lives! What would become of him now? How could his friends—how could Caedmon—ever rest easily while he was under the influence of that infernal staff? From the faraway depths of memory, Teal heard echoes, faint at first then becoming more insistent, of his childhood tormentors’ taunting cries: “Monster! Monster!”
A convulsive sob shook his entire frame. What was he to do? When would the staff claim his body again for its murderous ends? He had been lucky to return to his senses last night—but not a moment too soon. But next time? A horrific vision of the staff’s hungry blade descending on his lover’s bare neck flashed through Teal’s mind. He trembled feverishly, as if feeling the bitter cold for the first time. Better to die than to harm even a hair of Caedmon’s!
As he looked out at the Sea of Arklan, Teal struck on a desperate plan. If Dagon’s Reach was indeed turning him into a bloodthirsty monster, his only hope was to drive that monster as far as possible from those he loved while his will was still his own. There was no alternative: he must plunge the staff into the deepest depths—far away from anyone it could injure—even if it meant losing himself in the endless seas. He glanced at the white-capped waves and tried not to shiver as he imagined their icy caress on his skin.
It was Caedmon who brought him back from the edge of the precipice: it was always Caedmon. The taunting cries of “Monster” resonating in his mind quickly faded as Caedmon put his arms beneath Teal’s, wrapping him in a warm embrace. After a moment, Caedmon withdrew and grabbed Teal’s hand. “Come on, let’s get some tea. I just brewed a pot of Khrifian gold leaf I picked up on the way out of Sri’ss,” he said, as he led Teal midshipwards, down below through two winding flights of iron-wrought stairs, and then aft, finally reaching the mess hall at the end of a 20-foot hallway. Still grasping his hand, Caedmon steered Teal to a small table surrounded by pots, pans, and cutlery that jostled with the periodic movement of the ship despite the banding that affixed it to the walls. The smell of warm floral notes and dried fruits greeted Teal’s nose as Caedmon pushed a roughly hammered copper mug his way. With his characteristic sideways grin, Caedmon said “Drink, it will warm you up.” Pausing to wipe off the icy tears from Teal’s face with his lavender-scented handkerchief, he continued, “Don’t be too hard on yourself. Everyone, Val included, knows that wasn’t really you. I can only imagine what you are feeling, but we will figure this out.”
For several long moments, they sat in silence. Gripped by intense waves of relief and gratitude, Teal could barely speak as he sipped the smooth, fragrant tea. He closed his eyes and inhaled the aromatic steam that rose, incense-like, from the mug, allowing himself to forget his woes and to bask in the presence of his beloved. When he felt able to speak again, however, his voice was troubled.
Using a nickname that he had rarely used since childhood, Teal said, “Caed, I know you always believe the best of me, and I love you for it, but it was me who almost killed Val last night. Yes, I was under the power of that awful staff but it controls me only because I’ve willingly used it. It’s true that I inherited the staff from Agenar, but no-one forced me to wield it—I chose to learn its magic because I believed it would help keep me and my friends safe. And to be fair, with a few exceptions, it has served us well in combat. I formed a bond with Dagon’s Reach in order to exploit its power—how could I not expect to pay a price? You’ve always wanted to protect me from bad things but you can’t protect me from this. I have to take responsibility for the consequences of my own actions, but I’m afraid! I don’t want to die, Caed, I don’t want to leave you, especially not now! But if the staff continues to use me for its bloody ends, you—or one of my friends—might have to kill me. To prevent me from killing or severely injuring innocent people. What if … there’s no other way?” His voice was so choked with emotion that he could barely finish the question.
Seeing Caedmon’s pained expression, Teal swallowed hard and continued in more measured tones. “I’m sorry to speak so harshly, my dearest friend. You’ve lived more, experienced so much more of the realm than me, but in recent months I’ve seen so much deadly violence that I can’t help but wonder when my turn will come. Remember Travis, that quirky wood-man who used to run the school in the Glade? The undead creature who’s pursuing us—she disintegrated him, turned him to ashes before our eyes! And the number of lives we have extinguished in order to preserve our own! “Kill or be killed” seems to be our motto. And truly, I would rather die than to wake up with your blood on my hands. That would be too much for me to bear.”
Caedmon sipped his tea and looked down at his cup to collect his thoughts. After a moment, he looked back at Teal. “We all make mistakes. Power is alluring and seizing it to use it for good almost always feels like the right choice at the time. Sometimes you or others pay the price later, when you read the fine print. You couldn’t have known what the staff wanted. You couldn’t possibly have known that it was sentient, let alone what it might do to you … how it might try to transform you, if that is even what it is doing.” He paused, to see if his line of reasoning was landing the way he intended it. “You’re right though. You do need to take responsibility. But I refuse to accept that the only option is for you to die. There will be a way. There is always a way. Maybe you can master it. Maybe you can destroy it. We will figure this out.”
Pouring more tea for both of them, Caedmon continued. “I know you think that I am some sort of hero. Some sort of saint. But my hands aren’t clean. I don’t like to talk about it much, but I’ve had to kill. The first time was when I was with Mithralica … you might remember Milo, Benny, Elaith, and Alryn. I know you know Milo from Talpin. Anyway, we were traveling back to Emorhin from a little village called Swordbreak off the southern coast of the Dagger Sea about a half-day’s travel west of Jorkh. It was a beautiful day. Clear skies, the sweet smell of honey in the air from the uncountable Corellon’s breath blooming in the Dagger fields. Benny was up on the wagon. Milo, Elaith, and I had our feet out the back just admiring the day. Alryn was sleeping.
Next thing I know, I hear Benny scream out in pain. Then three arrows buzz through the air and I felt Milo’s hot blood splatter on my arm. I checked him, he was alive but unconscious. The rest happened so fast, but I remember grabbing my shortsword and hopping down. There were three figures nocking more arrows about sixty feet off the road—in the yellow flowers. Elaith was faster than me and was already moving to close the gap. I don’t know if I ever told you, but she was a bladesinger from Deneria before she joined us. I ran after her. An arrow flew past my head, but I just ran at them. A few seconds later and their blood was all over me. Elaith had hacked an arm off of one and decapitated another. I found my shortsword buried in the third’s stomach.”
With a tear welling up in his eye, Caedmon continued. “Teal, I watched his eyes roll back in his head. I watched the blood pour from his mouth. It was horrible. His face haunted me for years. The once pristine field of yellow flowers was crushed by conflict and covered in blood … sort of like how my soul felt.
It took Elaith’s quick field dressing, haste, the expertise of some of the clerics of Bahamut, and a few days’ rest, but thankfully everyone in the band made it out ok. But the look of that boy’s face —he couldn’t have been more than 15 or 16, your age at the time—I can still see it. I don’t know why he turned to banditry. Why he was prepared to murder us. It was just him or my friends. Him or me. We do what we have to.
Since then, I’ve killed others. It gets easier, less hesitation, but of course it is always horrible. I never seek it out, but sometimes you have no other choice. I never forget their faces. I even try to tell their stories in my music. Stories of poverty. Lack of opportunity. The gods only know their true stories, but I try to imagine their voices, lament their life choices, and give them justice—even if they wanted to kill me.”
Pausing, watching to see if Teal looked at him differently, he finished. “Teal—you are a good person. The best I’ve ever known. We all sometimes have to fight. Fight to survive. You don’t take any pleasure in killing. That staff—I don’t care what terrible god it belongs to—it can’t change that. It can’t change who you are. You won’t let it. I won’t let it.”
Listening with rapt attention, Teal felt a shiver run down his spine—this time not from horror or cold but in response to his friend’s impassioned words. It was as if the fibers of his very being were resonating in sympathy with Caedmon’s. Blue-black eyes glistening, Teal winced at the visible pain this memory still inflicted on his beloved. His heart overflowed with compassion, wonder, and love—a mixture of feelings more complex yet no less intense than his early infatuation with his childhood hero. He knew that the self-assured man who sat before him did not uncover old wounds lightly, and this gave added force to Caedmon’s words.
“O Caed,” he exclaimed in low tones. Without saying anything else, he reached across the table, gently unclasped Caedmon’s fingers from the copper mug, and firmly held his hands in his own. He was suddenly struck by how finely shaped Caedmon’s lean brown fingers were—how delicate they looked compared to his own sturdy, slightly-webbed digits! Leaning forward, he kissed them tenderly.
After a few quiet moments had passed, Teal broke the silence. Looking Caedmon earnestly in the eyes, he spoke in muted tones but sounded more self-possessed than he had been the entire morning. “That must have been the Pelor and Mielikki when you barely wrote. I remember winning a prize for an essay I composed about you that year—I sent it to you and was sorely disappointed when you never mentioned it again.” Teal laughed sadly. “Just imagine—the emotional trauma you were living through, and I could only obsess over why you hadn’t read my schoolboy scribblings. How selfish I was then. How selfish I am now, to despair when others—when you—care so deeply about me.”
“But I understand what you’re saying—it brings to mind some of the things I learned from the Water Ashari when I studied with them at the Floating Village. The archdruid there—I didn’t really understand much of what he was trying to teach us novices then, but we had to memorize his teachings and many of his utterances are actually beginning to make a lot more sense to me now. ‘Don’t imagine yourselves innocent,’ he used to say, ‘You’re merely ignorant. Everything that lives is holy—to exist is to encroach on other beings. You cannot drink a drop of water without consuming entire worlds!’ So don’t imagine for a second that I could think less of you for having killed out of necessity. I’m sure I’ve done the same on countless occasions since we started adventuring. Because I’ve relied mostly on magic to defend myself, I’ve probably been more insulated from the horrors of killing than you were. Knowing that you empathize with and try to honor the lives you’re forced to take only makes me love you even more passionately.” With a shy grin he added, “If that were even possible.”
“But enough of me. As you say, we will figure things out. Together. My friends can help—perhaps Ari will concoct a spell to free me from the staff, or Erione could banish it altogether. Anyway, listening to your story made me think of how you always put up a brave front—always have to appear strong—in order to be a balancing, supportive influence on me. But what about yourself? Our lives have changed so much in such a short time. Here we are on the run from an ancient undead mage, journeying into the frozen unknown of Norggheim—it must be so drastically different from your well-established touring schedule, from regular performances all over in Sri’ss, Dranseri, and Jorkh! Yet you’ve never complained—in fact, you seem amazingly cheerful, chatting everyone up, entertaining them with improvised ditties! Wrapped up in my own anxieties, I’ve never really asked you how you are dealing with our situation.” Teal paused, then continued imploringly, “I hope you’ll trust me with anything that currently weighs on your heart, my dearest friend. Your fears, your hopes, your dreams—I want to share them all.”
His composure and charisma back, Caedmon smirked. “Let’s be clear, you all are running from a lich. She doesn’t know about me,” he chuckled. As he finished his tea, his smile faded. “But seriously I’m fine and of course I trust you. I miss the troupe, mainly Elaith. She’s the only one I really felt close to in my last group, Dragon Turtles all the way down. She is capable though and will keep herself safe. To be honest, I am kind of excited to go exploring. It will be a nice change of pace. Most of my adventuring has been little side treks outside of cities we had gigs in. Little jobs posted on boards that paid a few coins. Nothing like this. The mystery of it all is pretty exciting.”
Squeezing Teal’s hand assuringly, Caedmon motioned upwards with a slight bob of his chin. “We should go check in on the others.”
The party traveled westward towards the Anfoor Observatory across the arid expanse. Navigating out of the Crimson highlands with the help of find the path, the party directed themselves due westward until they ran into the eastern branch of “river” that winds its way southward. Passing out of the Crimson highlands they began to see wreckage of ruined airships broken on the craggy stone of the hills and, further on, in the depthless sands of the expanse.
3 days into their travels, the party arrived at the river, finding it little more than a muddy bed – thick with what desert animals exist within this space. Passing southwest on their 4th day, while following the river, they passed by a large obsidian monolith. Partially uncovering it, they discovered abyssal hieroglyphs dedicated to Obox-Ob, one of the ancient betrayer gods known as “The Obyriths” – said to have been imprisoned in the Abyss sometime around the divergence. Travelling on into their 5th day, the party fell into a pit trap apparently laid by Yuan-ti worshippers of Obox-ob. Val spoke to them, assuring them they were just passing through and were not Orcs. When they saw Teal’s staff they fell into a subserviant worshipful pose in deference to one they called “The Prophet” and “the bearer.”
Traveling with the party on the 6th day, the Yuan-ti were reinforced by an elite guard to “protect the bearer.” In the mniddle of the night, Dagon’s reach decided it wanted a new master. Teal let it go in his dreamscape and it began crawling its way towards one of the Yuan-ti priests with snakes for arms and hands. In an attempt to stop it, Tilia bagged it and Ari stabbed it. Unfortunately, the stabbing caused an ear and brain piercing psychic scream that awakened the Yuan-ti. The party, using Teal’s magic, turned to mist and floated away. After some coordinating messages and fetching Ragnar – who fell out of the sky a few miles away – the party rejoined at the base of the spires of the old spine mountains.
On the 8th day of travel out of the Crimson Highlands, the party ascended the tallest visible spire in the range to find the Anfoor Observatory of Possible Realities at the top.
There they began a conversation with a monkish Gith man – the Anfoor.
Scouting ahead as birds, Teal and Tilia say a large tower built into the hill. There entrances were visible – one at the base of an offset portion of the complex with a plain stone door, another grander main entrance with two large stone doors marked with 4 dragon sigils – seemingly in reference to a historical group known as “the conclave.”
The party made their was to the tower and setup camp outside. Early scouting by Jerry revealed the entry way to both the main door and the lower entry door. Below, Jerry say a pit of lava with two chests nearby a small bridge leading further into the complex. Using knock, the party made their way into the main entrance. There they found a stone dragon – that came to life as they entered, the doors shutting behind them to prevent their escape. The dragon, Vaathrifax the deposed, seemed to be reluctantly bound to protecting this space. He claimed to have once ruled the crimson highlands, only to be deposed and bound into this statue by Kangaxxian (AKA Jo’vak). A passwall spell and banishment gave the party their pick of terrain and let them better prepare to face the dragon. Once defeated, the statue began to stitch itself back together, seemingly as part of a strong magical fusion of enchantment and abjuration magics built into the tower.
Later the party met librarians curating an ancient collection of Kangaxxian’s writings. The tower, according to them, is known as “the repository” and seems to house old, currently unused books and other items of Kangaxxian. The facility appears to be sort of a “long term storage” to keep backup copies of items he deemed relevant.
After spending a day in the library doing research, Ari copied down the sigils required to invoke the teleportation circle nearby and the party decided to move on. Curiosity got the better of the group and they decided to delve into the lower chambers of the tower.
There, they discovered some sort of lay energy focusing device standing amidst several channels of lava. The device was emitting a beam of light heading up into several crystals as it bent its way through the pillars of the upper chamber.
Delving further in, the party encountered undead flaming skulls and several undead led by an individual with two gems set into its eye sockets. After taking heavy damage from a series of fireballs and other attacks, the party manage to dispatch the undead guardians. Searching around, they discovered a secret chamber containing several chests – which turned out to be two mimics, a chest of holding, and a chest containing a single skeleton key.
The chest of holding appears to contain an entire apartment’s furnishings along with several highly magical items.
Deciding not to push their luck, the party ventured on and made camp a few miles from the tower on the night of the 4th.
With the prior night’s sleep interrupted by the formless terror of the misty unknown dream eating creature, the party tried to collect themselves. While they had fought the creature off – both in its dreamscape and out – the party roused themselves with unease. Afraid to go back asleep, the party woke to the morning of the 24th of Raven queen with weariness and molasses in their blood. Knowing the creature still haunts the area – having made its escape into the frozen waters of the river – kept everyone on-edge as they continued the southwesternly journey down the unlabeled northern river on their map.
As a two days wore on, tense nights of jumping at every sound of the forest, gave way to a gradual warming trend as the party approached the looming mountains to the south and west. By the afternoon of the last day of Raven Queen in the 1223rd year post calamity, the party began to face escalating terrain changes as the mostly placid slow moving river changed to narrow areas of rapids and 40-100 foot portages between waterfalls. That night, they bedded down for the evening and discussed the way forward. Early in the twilight of the approaching night, the party spotted a large looming tower on the horizon – at least a few hundred feet tall shaded against the visage of the approach mountain range. As the night wore on and the area darkened to the pitch black of the frozen north the party had become accustomed to over the prior few days, they noticed the tower seemed to glow with some source of light – possibly a window or torch.
Plotting their way forward and realizing it would not be by boat, the party converted the little skiff they had purchased from the crew of the northerly wind into something of a sled. Using Ragnar, pentagion’s unicorn steed, and (at times) a team of fey-conjured wolves, the party “dog sledded” their way up the first gradual and then steeply graded slopes of the Scarlet Highlands. Oddly, as they climbed in elevation, first 5, then 10, then 15 thousand feet, the air temperature grew warmer and the snow diminished until there were naught but patches of snow shaded from the sun. The tower, lording over the area, looks not more than a day or day and half journey by foot to the north and west.
21st Auril. Ahhh. Nothing like soaking in a warm, salty bath to wash away the aches and stench of battle. The Genie Ayatayir’s magical mansion certainly seems to offer any comfort one can think of. Ari has instructed us to leave her undisturbed while she enjoys what she called a “revitalizing aromatherapy spa,” and Pantaghion is amusing himself with some of our genie-friend’s ethereal attendants. Even as we three drink deeply (so to speak) at the fountain of pleasure, I can’t get rid of a lingering sense of guilt: knowing that we left our other companions behind somewhere in the bowels of the material plane, facing who knows what horrors. How unfair life is—or rather, how radically our divergent paths depend on capricious fate. I was thrilled to have assumed the form of a giant eagle for the first time, and yes, its speed was critical in securing the genie’s horn for our party, but ultimately, the fact that I’m relaxing in safety is because I happened to be at the right place at the right time—Ayatayir transported the three of us here as I was trying to fly Ari and Pantaghion to safety.
But enough. We have discussed with Ayatayir the best way to reunite with our friends as soon as he is able to plane shift again. No point worrying further now.
Perhaps my mind—my heart—is ill at ease in part because—for the first time in many days, I have not heard from Caedmon. He was planning to set off for Dranseri soon (today?) Please Corellon don’t let anything happen to him on the journey there. The earth-shattering tremors and other extreme elemental forces that we witnessed at Tyer-Besil were reaching a scale that could well affect travelers on the Long Road. [large water stain]
There. I’ve fashioned a separate little pool of water for the staff. I guess it was a mistake to think that it would content itself with soaking its tentacles at the edge of the tub. I try to be as considerate towards it as one would be towards a living sea creature, but that will teach me not to let it get too close while I’m bathing. The logbook is a little damp but should dry out quickly with the help of my trusty water cantrip. This is a good reminder, however: the growing vigor of Dagon’s Reach—the wicked look of the blade that the tentacles now encircle—are a cause for concern, and one that I must raise with my more learned friends when the opportunity arises.
22nd Auril. The accommodations here at the Hall of Heroes are delightful—tastefully but not ostentatiously appointed, and comfortable in every respect of the word. I cannot wait to show Caedmon our room. He has seen much more of the realm than I, true, but even he would be impressed, I think!
Our room. It is ridiculous how much pleasure I derive from a mere phrase. As excited as I am at the prospect of Caedmon’s beloved presence pervading this space, my exhilaration is tinged with a sense of melancholy: I will not be here to welcome him, most like. For this reason I have left him a note together with the lyre snatched from the medusa’s lair—that should offer him some diversion while he awaits our return.
What a day it has been! Our joy at being reunited with our companions—our return to Dranseri to find the atmosphere of the city altogether altered, suffused with a tension and sense of impending conflict—our audience with the Queen herself and her royal council. I still cannot quite get over it. I am used to serving nobility from when I worked at my uncle’s inn, but I have never had occasion nor opportunity to speak to them as an equal.
To be sure, we were not on equal footing with the Queen or her council members during our audience with Her Majesty, but they did treat us with dignity and made a sincere request for our help. Ari and I did much of the speaking and it felt like we were having a genuine dialogue—a completely novel experience for me.
Characterized by a solemn and regal beauty, the chamber in which we met with the Queen almost had the air of a temple, though the individuals assembled there revealed its purposes to be secular rather than religious. To see the gathered splendor of Dranseri’s leaders was truly an impressive sight: from the ethereal beauty of the Queen and her children to the palpable wit and wisdom of the Coinmistress, it is hard to justice to them all in words, and especially with so little time. One council-member did make a particular impression on me—Caedmon would say, teasingly, that this is because of General Krom’s preternaturally handsome appearance—but it is more than that. His was the expression of a hunter—reminiscent of the hungry air with which some noble visitors to Talpin sometimes viewed my cousin Marina.
I must stop here, for tomorrow we rise early to track the Drow who are allegedly responsible for desecrating the Temple of Selûne. Nevertheless, I shouldn’t forget to record our visit to the Bung Hole, where we faithfully delivered Jarrod’s cryptic message to the blue-skinned Zilloa, a crusty character who seemed highly suspicious of our motives. Poor Jarrod! I hope he made it out of the Tyer-Besil safely. What a vicious crowd he seems to have been mixed up with. But we were able to deliver his message and exit the Bung Hole without too much hassle—aside from Val getting knocked out by the potent brew that she ordered.
15th Raven Queen. Although the weather outside is cold in the extreme, and we lay our heads to rest on a simple pallet bed with only the most basic comforts, the sight of Caedmon sleeping peacefully besides me fills my heart with a wild kind of joy. The circumstances we now face must seem so strange to him, so drastically different than his life as an itinerant performer, and yet he remains so optimistic and loving a companion. I have looked up to Caedmon (as my childhood protector) for as long as I can remember, and it seems that this will not change in spite of his relative unfamiliarity with the arts of war. It did feel a little peculiar—like a kind of role-reversal—when I had to argue strenuously with him to take my ring of protection. He finally conceded—but as if he were doing it more for my peace of mind than because he recognized the wisdom of my suggestion. Firm in his convictions, as usual! Perhaps I should not jinx myself, but since I’ve started falling asleep in his embrace, even the recurring nightmares seem to have somewhat abated.
The party took some well deserved rest, met several times with Alura as she began to analyze Illiamarra’s Spellbook, enjoyed some deluxe accomodations (hot baths powered by elementals and cushy well appointed chambers and beds), and free reign of the ambassadorial quarters in Queen Dranser’s Castle Plancert. Eventually, after a few days, Alura was able to acquire enough rings of non-detection for the party to be protected agaisnt scrying magic.
15th of Raven Queen
The party met with Alura and learned of the Anfoor observatory of possible realities – where a mysterious guru-like gith presides over some sort of device that allows them to see any location – even some shielded by certain types of magic. This power is apparently accessible to all, provided they demonstrate some sort of spiritual journey or growth. Alura suggested that the party might be able to use the Anfoor’s observatory to ascertain the location of Illiamarra’s phylactery and proactively launch an offensive before she comes to take back her items and exact revenge.
In the richly adorned halls of Castle Plancert, General Krom stopped the party briefly to invite them to speak with him. He referred to them as “the nameless ones” or as “some were saying” “Alura’s Henchmen.” In discussion, Krom made his disdain and mistrust of Alura clear. He said that he was counciling Queen Dranser to make a proactive strike against the heart of the “Bestial Orcish Horde.” In particular, he desires an all-out attack against the horde rather than suffer the defensive posturing that has been on-going in the siege of Khriff Sri’ss. He asked the party to take on a mission for him, namely to assassinate or discover information that could be used to attack Zlog, the warchief said to be a master tactician, intellectual, charismatic uniter able to bring the clans together, and an extremely strong and powerful individual feared in battle.
After their discussions in the castle, the party decided Ari would teleport them to the Queen’s gate, north of the Glade, where they would journey to the Anfoor observatory across the world’s spine – a treacherous stretch of mountains known to house various dangerous creatures such as Yeti and a dragon fond of taking tolls from those that pass through its realm. Due to the nearby conflict, forces of the horde may also be in the area. Alura cautioned against venturing far (if at all) into the Mirkhol, which she claims holds aberrations from before the calamity.
The party, gathered warm cloths, visiting a shop called “Calistra’s strands” and air teleported them northward.
15th of Raven Queen
The party spent the evening at the Queen’s Gate in Dranseri. There they met and chatted with a soldier stationed on the wall. He warned them of dangers north of the wall and mentioned waypoints and places of refuge in the mountains – including a few villages within the Icewind dale. He also reported of Yetis in the mountains and updated the party on the attempted horde incursions at the wall.
A few in the party ventured past the gates and saw main snow-buried corpses of goblins, orcs, and other creatures – most with arrows and spears in their chests left in the cold snow after being slain by the missile weapons on the wall.
Looking for warmer times, several party members, led by Val, made there way to the small non-military “village.” In truth the village was little more than a brothel (named Warm Sheets), an inn (named The Last Refuge), a tavern (Winter’s Teat), and a few small huts a short walk south of the Queens gate. There Val picked up a soldier named Ruf at the tavern. Ruf appreciated Val’s pointedly no-nonsense style and ruggedness. The two downed a few drinks before making use of a “short term” room at the inn.
As the cold evening set-in, the clerics and druids in the party consulted with their gods, goddesses, and the land around them. Seeking the most expedient and least dangerous pathway to the Anfoor Observatory, the party decided a voyage by sea was in order via Sri’ss and its nearby port city of Erifsi. Traveling by teleportation circle to Sri’ss (using Ari’s Pansophical connections), the party made their way to a heavily guarded and fortified city in the midst of siege. A guard there inquired about their plans and updated them on the status of the siege before letting them pass and exit to spend an evening in the Misty Steed.
17th of Raven Queen
Waking in the morning, the party made their way to Erifsi, chartered a discrete, no-questions asked ship northward and began their journey.
18th-23rd of Raven Queen
As they made their way northward, the party observed large groups heading southward along the coast – presumably horde forces. The party spent time further communing and learned of potential dangers near the ancient dwarven homeland of Orshem. A “choice of fire or ice” was considered and ice was selected. Heading around a large forest-covered peninsula the party made their way to what the ship’s crew labeled the “frost’s maw” a river delta supposedly (according to their maps) that leads further inland and in the direction of the Anfoor Observatory. Amidst their journey, the party learned of other travelers with a mysterious crate bound for the same river. Letting the three individuals and their cargo go ahead, the party waited a few hours and departed themselves. The crew of the ship wished them well, sold them a boat at a steep price (where else will you get one), and then made their way southward again.
Ari, scouting ahead as a snowy-looking owl overheard the three individuals (two tieflings and a palid-looking human) talking in abyssal about their cargo’s “journey through the planes.” One said “it is about time for it to wake up and we don’t want to end up like the last transport group.” Rejoining the group, the party rowed their way to the entrance of the Frost Maw and travelled into the approaching cold night.
Strangely the river was not frozen over despite the mounds of snow on the nearby shores and the extremely cold weather (-20 to -40F). As the first watch of the night drug onward, Ari was startled by the sound of voices. Listening closer, she could hear her name. She watched as the eyes of Caedmon, Jerry, Falco, and Penthagion all began to rapidly move as if in REM sleep…. something clearly approaches.
(Auril is gourd harvesting season on the southern island of Talpin; the mild climate, pristine shores, and usually abundant harvest make the island particularly popular with tourists during the colder Arklan months. For this reason, the Peggotty inn is especially busy during this season. Fortunately, Uncle John is a skilled farmer and cook and one of his most acclaimed seasonal dishes has come to bear the family’s name. This is one of the recipe scribbled in Teal’s Ferryman Logbook.)
Peggotty’s Pumpkin Potage:
Ingredients:
2 lbs minced lamb (can substitute beef etc.)
half a cooking pumpkin, sliced into chunks and lightly salted
Marinade the minced lamb with two tablespoons soy sauce, soyaki etc, pepper, curry powder and all-spice, and set aside.
In a large kuali (wok), heat the ghee on high-ish heat for about until it is hot (2 minutes?) Add the teaspoon of dried spice seeds. Wait until the spice seeds stop jumping (1 minute)—add the minced garlic, ginger, and shallot.
Stir fry until fragrant and the garlic etc looks a little golden brown.
Add the minced meat and stir fry for another 5 minutes, until the meat is browned.
Add diced pumpkins, fresh herbs, and diced chili peppers—mix well. When the potage is bubbling vigorously, reduce the heat to moderate.
Add the coconut milk and mix well. Allow to simmer on moderate heat until the pumpkin chunks are tender (yield readily to a fork).
Usually served at the Peggotty Inn with coconut rice and garlicky greens.
After tracking the drow into the temple, the party found a well maintained temple structure much like the one they experienced with Travis. A river of undead creatures endlessly swims outside the temple in the odd fey-like twilight of the backlight chamber dominated by the bright light of the mythal floating above the temple. The party found large murals and carvings inside the temple depicting the grand societies and several key historical events seemingly connected to the Selu’taar and their ancient magics.
Making their way from level to level, the party encountered a large party of drow gaurding a magically locked doorway to the upper reaches of the temple. Easily dispatching the drow, the party unlocked the door by invoking a series of spells – one for each school of magic – into the arcane locking mechanisms. With the door disable, the party made their way to the apex and confronted a powerful mage named Illimarra. Wielding the Claw of Kiaransalee and partly spent from whatever magics she was preparing in the chamber, Illimarra proved to be an extremely dangerous foe. Locking away some members of the party with arcane cages and firing disintegration orbs at others, she turned Travis into a pile of dust and a cold, lifeless, diapson crystal that once marked his heart.
The party rose to the occasion, defeated the other drow in the chamber, and forced Illiamarra to hastily retreat. Teleporting out at the last second, she left the party alone in the apex of the ancient Selu’taar temple. The party found Illiamarra’s bag of holding – that contained what appear to be 1000 small shards of onyx, diapson crystal, and diamonds with swirling motes of energy in them. They also found Illiamarra’s spell book with a tongue stuck on the front. The book contains immense and impressive knowledge – even some unique spells created by Illiamarra herself. The party also found a large clockwork-bound book hidden in a cache behind some stones in the chamber and a shadow-emitting sword wielded formerly by Isildra.
Briefly short resting, the party decided it unwise to tarry in the temple – so they attempted a teleportation circle. Apparently, the magics of the mythallar interfered with the teleportation – instead placing them in the circle at the bottom of the temple. The party decided to exit the temple and get sufficient distance from the mythallar before trying again. On their way out, they encountered a force of awaiting drow. Sneaking up on them, the party fought through exhaustion and slew them before teleporting back to the Tower of Contemplation of the Arcana Pansophical, where Alura resides.
UNOMAHA D&D 