The Prayers of Naquent

Naquent steps into her private chambers, angrily slamming the door shut behind her. A wispy form materializes out of the cushions in the middle of the floor, preparing to attack the intruder, but halts upon seeing its mistress.

“One day I’ll kill that bastard!” She says.

The spectre backs away slightly, hoping not to be the object of her wrath, or even a convenient target. It knows better than to get out of sight, though, as that would surely incense the cleric.

Naquent, however, seems oblivious to her undead former lover’s dilemma, a person whom she never even knew his name, continuing a heated discussion with herself. “Hedrack gave the task to you, Varachan, not me!”

Despite her anger, Naquent understands the hierarchy of the Temple, loose as it is, and if the second in command wants to delegate tasks, then so be it. She can only obey, or face punishment. Varachan is very strong and will probably even surpass Hedrack one day. He is clearly on the path to becoming a Doomdreamer, possibly even one of the Triad. No, it would not be prudent to get on his bad side.

She yanks off her cloak, dropping it to the floor. The spectre immediately grabs a violet translucent rod from the stand by the bed and uses it to return the cloak to a peg on the wall. Naquent then kneels down by her private altar, lighting a cone of purple incense and putting it in a blackened silver censer. The acrid smoke billows out from the censer and soon fills the room with a violet haze.

Opening her prayer book to a middle page, Naquent recites a psalm to Tharizdun.

“O deceitful dark eye of Tharizdun, hear mine prayers and deliver unto me thy wisdom. For thou art the supreme God of destruction and chaos, and thy desirable knowledge is required in order to combat thine enemies. May thy hand, thine arm, and the unholy black light of thy countenance give me strength to annihilate those who opposeth thee.”

She then grips her ceremonial dagger and cuts a gash on her arm, letting blood flow freely onto the stone altar. The altar greedily soaks up the liquid, gaining power as she continues her spell. After ten minutes of casting, Naquent finishes the spell and communes with her god.

She asks, “Will the intruders attempt to breach the Outer Fane?” A dark eye lit only by the unholy violet miasma filling the room vibrates as it responds in a deep and resounding voice, heard only by the priestess. Yes.

“Will they breach the Outer Fane inside a week?” No.

“Will they breach the Outer Fane inside a month?” Yes.

“Will they enter through the Air Door?” Yes.

“Do they have the components to make a greater key?” Yes.

“Do they have the components to make a master key?” Yes.

“Are they aware of the nature of the Temple of All Consumption?” No.

“Will they continue attacking the Crater Ridge Mines?” Yes.

“Do they have outside help?” Yes.

She hesitates before asking the final question, not because she dreads the answer, but completing this particular spell is always extremely painful. “Is this outside help located in Rastor?” Yes.

Upon giving the answer to the last question, the eye darts through the priestess and silently disappears, dragging the vapor in the room with it like a vortex. Naquent involuntarily screams in agony as the eye takes with it a part of her soul. Although she no longer fears losing her soul because she has already forsaken it long ago in the service of the Dark Lord, the pain is nearly unbearable. She drops unconscious to the cushions, heedless of the blood still flowing from her arm.

The Communication with Moradin

Aldoroc grunts with the effort of dragging the bodies of the dire lions out into the main ore tunnel. He ignores the pain from his many wounds and points at the bloodied and scorched corpse of the assassin. “I’m glad we killed the bastard.”

Verilia wipes her claws on the fur of a dire lion and transforms back into her normal form. She crinkles her nose at the dead troglodyte and says, “I don’t care about the assassin, I’m just glad we killed another stinking troglodyte. I wonder how many more of these beasts we’ll have to kill.”

Aramil examines the body and comments, “This is a half-elf, not an elf. I wonder where the other assassin went.”

Shangor says, “Aye, lad. I’m also wonderin’ where the dwarven assassin be hidin’. It dinna pay ter have ‘em at our backs all the time.”

Aramil and Kale loot the bodies and the heroes rest in Urolax’s room for the remainder of the night. In the morning, Shangor prepares a make whole spell and repairs Aldoroc’s holy battleaxe and magical chain shirt, though Aldoroc now wears the elven chain from the assassin.

The dwarven cleric of Moradin then hauls the assassin’s corpse towards the tunnel exit that leads to an outcropping over the Stalagos to the west. He props it up and situates the head so that he can talk to it. He then pulls out his hammer and anvil silver holy symbol and casts speak with dead.

The corpse jerks upright suddenly, and the face stares straight head with unblinking and unfocused eyes. Knowing his spell has functioned, Shangor asks the first question. “What is your name?”

The cracked lips part and a voice issues from the unmoving mouth. Victor.

“Who is your master?” Lord Hedrack.

“Who has been scrying me and my party?” Several clerics.

“Who is the leader of the Outer Fane? Lord Hedrack.

“Why are the Doomdreamers here?” The Black Spike is here.

Having obtained an answer to his final question, Shangor groans with the effort of the spell, preparing to cast it again on the troglodyte. The troglodyte resists it, however. Verilia kicks the body and the heroes gather close as Sylvan teleports them in two separate groups to the capital city of Khorasan.

They purchase some more supplies and sell some of the loot they have recovered. Kale and Aldoroc make a point of visiting the Bronze Unicorn tavern for some fine wine. Sylvan and Aramil, on the other hand, visit Betham’s Books and do some research in the extensive library located there. Verilia takes time to do some work in the Druid Grove.

Shangor heads straight to the temple and to a private chapel room. He lights incense and a couple of lamps; soon, the whole room is filled with a light aroma reminiscent of stale beer. Shangor inhales deeply and sighs in pleasure. He draws a mug of ale from the keg by the altar and starts preparing the commune spell.

After ten full minutes of casting, Shangor asks the first question, “Are we strong enough to defeat the Outer Fane?” A guttural voice replies in dwarven, Yes.

“Are the Doomdreamers attempting to free Tharizdun?” Unclear.

“Is the Eye of Tulian in the crater ridge mines?” Yes.

“Does the Elder Elemental Eye exist?” Yes.

“Are the Doomdreamers in any way responsible for the attack on Khorasan?” Yes.

“Are any items in our possession cursed?” Yes.

“Is Prince Thrommel still alive?” No.

“Is the attention of the Doomdreamers focused somewhere in this crater?” No.

“Is there a dwarven temple in the crater ridge mines?” Yes.

“Are there any members of the Saltheart clan still within the crater ridge mines?” Yes.

Shangor wipes his brow with the strain of casting the powerful spell and with the pressure from having direct contact with an avatar of Moradin. He quickly rejoins his companions and informs them of his findings. Discussion ensues amongst the party about the meanings of the answers. In particular, they are confused about the connection between the Elder Elemental Eye and Tharizdun.

Kale decides to inform the High Priest in the cathedral to Heironeous about Fragarach. High Priest Granley recognizes it immediately, of course, and advises Kale to return it to the emperor. He does so, gathering his friends along the way. The emperor is ecstatic about regaining the artifact, despite its protests at likely being placed on a shelf.

The emperor Tayamitsu then grants all of the heroes apartments in the castle. Sylvan and Aramil are put in rooms near the wizard’s laboratory, second only to the Silver Consortium. It even has its own teleport and summoning circles. Verilia stays in the indoor grove, a large chamber in the western wing with high windows and a huge set of double doors and plenty of skylights. Kale and Aldoroc get luxurious apartments, fit for royalty. Kale is even gifted with a set of very expensive clothes, all in the crown’s colors. Shangor gets apartments almost near the dungeon, but with an amazing chapel dedicated to Moradin. The wall behind the altar is actually a passwall to a private study for priests.

Fragarach is given to Lord Justin, a paladin of Heironeous, who will be questing to rid the empire of the lich queen threat in the west. Almost all of the nation’s resources will be spent on the war with Fulchrine, so little can be spared for the heroes and their relatively less important quest. Indeed, there is little proof of the dire nature of the threat. The cultists and their powerful subordinates certainly constitute a threat, but no where near the same degree as the Queen Mother.

The heroes spend a few more days in Khorasan, basking in the luxury and safety of the castle. Their much needed rest comes to an inevitable halt as they teleport back to the bugbear caves. Verilia leads the group to the cave with the clear pool of water so that she can scry for the first time.

The druid takes the letter from Hedrack to Uskathoth out of her pack and kneels down adjacent to the natural, clear pool. Her tiger companion Summer lies down beside her. Verilia then casts scrying. Sweat beads on her face and Summer shifts nervously on the stone floor. After a full hour of concentration, she targets her spell and mutters the name of her search, “Hedrack.”

It fails. Verilia wearily stands up and says, “Well, that was expected.”

A chorus of groans erupt from her allies and Aldoroc says, “So, why did you do it?”

Verilia replies, “I had to try. There’s always a chance I could succeed in scrying him, but …”

A whisper interrupts her sentence, deep and calm, filled with a malevolence that is felt more than heard. “Do not scry me again. You have one more chance to leave the crater ridge mines and not bother us again. If you do not, I will kill you all. Hedrack Out.”

Sylvan immediately recognizes the effect of the message spell and, more importantly, the fact that Hedrack used greater scrying to communicate with them. “I don’t think we should do that again.”

The Tattooed Giant

The adventurers travel over the ore tracks to the south towards the Earth Bridge Complex. They pass through the eastern rim of a large, split-level cavern, the ledge upon which the group walks almost seventy feet above the western side. They had visited this chamber before, traversing through the lower part in order to get to the room with the ooze. Beyond the chamber, the passageway widens into an area filled with an odd stench, a combination of sulfur and fur.

Leading the way, Aldoroc has little time to contemplate the discovery when two tentacles shoot out of the darkness and hit him in the shoulder, drawing deep wounds. Kale steps up and his continual flame overrides the magical darkness ahead of Aldoroc, revealing two large, emaciated cats with tentacles flailing from their backs. These cats have beady red eyes, glowing even in the magical torchlight. Their abnormally ridged backs undulate silently as the creatures move. The smell of sulfur permeates the air, providing further evidence of the creatures’ unnatural origins.

Aldoroc draws his battleaxe and swings it at one of the cats, but despite targeting perfectly, he misses. The creature is not where it appears to be! Sylvan quickly deduces the true nature of the monsters as displacer beasts.

Shangor engages one of the cats, getting hit by a barbed tentacle. Kale draws his longbow and fires a couple of arrows, but he fails to connect as well. Aramil and Sylvan both cast magic missile, guaranteeing injuring the cats for the first time. Verilia and Summer step into the fray, also failing to hit the beasts, their displacement abilities protecting them yet again.

The displacer beasts fight ferociously, but despite their supernatural talents they are no match for the hardened warriors. The battle lasts less than a minute. Aramil searches the room quickly, identifying it as a makeshift lair for the beasts and containing nothing of value.

The heroes continue the march forward down a long, curving hallway to the west and into the next intersection, one wide hall of worked stone heading south and to a set of double doors, and two natural passages to the north. A couple of torches flicker by the double doors to the south, exposing six human guards and a slathering troll. The guards immediately raise their bows and the greenish hued giant clicks his yellow fangs together, and then charges at Aldoroc.

Aramil reacts first, dropping a fireball at the end of the hall, roasting four of the guards. Sylvan backs up to the rear of the party near one of the northern exits, and casts haste, affecting all of his companions. Shangor grips the prayer bead at his neck and activates bless. Verilia calls lightning and drops a bolt on the troll while Summer, Kale, and Aldoroc rip the troll apart with their weapons.

The guards trade some arrows with Aramil and then flee before the golden dragon disciple can launch another fireball. Although the troll regenerates, Aldoroc slices it into submission. Before the body even hits the stone, however, a scream erupts from the rear when a huge monster, the grayish color of stone, nearly claws Sylvan’s head from his shoulders. Sylvan quickly stumbles away, getting raked again, and leans against the side wall in obvious agony from the serious wounds.

The new monster stands almost twelve feet tall, with a maw much larger in proportion to the rest of its body. Its thick arms end in claws the length of Aldoroc’s hands. The creature is dead gray and covered in runic symbols; some of them glow faintly in the dim torchlight. Kale recognizes the monster as a gray render, a powerful beast to be sure, but one that apparently has been modified, or improved, by magic.

Aldoroc strides in to help fight the monster, a worried frown showing on his face. Unfortunately, no one else in the group can take the same punishment, so he bravely steps forward. Aldoroc thinks to himself, O Heironeous, guide me in my actions and lead me to victory in this battle, or grant me a valorous death and steer my way to the celestial heavens.

The render suddenly reaches out with its mouth and grabs a hold of the human warrior, pulling him close and ripping him apart with its claws. Aldoroc attempts to pull out of its grasp, but to no avail, though his battleaxe remains clutched in his hand, useless in the close quarters combat.

Just as things turn sour for the heroes, it gets worse when a second troll comes out of a side door down the same hall with the double doors. This one appears angered, possibly at having been awakened, and immediately charges at Kale tearing a deep gash in the ranger’s forearm. The two guards also reappear and continue their missile fire at Shangor and Aramil.

Kale turns on the troll and fights it one-on-one. The guards are ignored while the remaining heroes fight the tattooed render. After a couple of arrows hit the tiger, however, Verilia sends her animal companion out of harm’s way and calls down a lightning bolt on the new troll. Shangor helps with the render by pummeling it fiercely with his holy warhammer. Sylvan and Aramil toss magic missiles into the beast.

Aldoroc struggles to free himself, but even his magically enhanced strength is no match for the render. The render nearly tears him to shreds, dropping the unconscious body on the ground, before it, too, is dropped by a new round of attacks from Shangor and even Verilia with her silvered scimitar. Shortly afterwards, Kale subdues the other troll and Shangor hits the first one again for good measure, watching it carefully as it continues to regenerate.

The guards flee again, closing the door behind them.