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Zanan

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Zanan's Unchartered Lands Adventure
« am: 03. Dezember 2007, 12:25:29 »
Unchartered Lands

A few words in German ...
Ein wenig ungewöhnlich für diese Breiten, doch auf Wunsch eines einsamen Freundes im fernen Rauhaland (Finnland), kommt diese Abenteuerbeschreibung mal dem Board-Titel entsprechend in Neuwestsächsisch (also: Englisch) daher.

Es dient sowohl zu Eurer Unterhaltung, als auch zur Orientierung der Helden, die sich nicht durchweg im Setting auskennen. Dahingehend wird zunächst nicht allzu großer Wert auf superperfekt-fehlerloses Englisch gelegt. Die Ereignisse werden nach und nach erzählt, je nachdem, wie und wann die Sitzungen laufen bzw. die Zeit zum Schreiben vorhanden ist.

Vorneweg / In advance
Als Aufhänger wurden einige Ereignisse aus Thay genommen, die in The Haunted Lands bzw. The Grand History of the Realms dargelegt werden. Sollte ein Leser diese Bücher / Informationen nicht kennen, beklagt euch im Anschluß nicht über Spoiler.
Cliffhanger for the plot is an event which prominently features in The Haunted Lands (novel) and is also related to in The Grand History of the Realms. Those who read on nonetheless should not start moaning about being spoiled here. You have been warned.

Hintergrundinformationen, die jene, die von meiner SL-Gnade abhängig sind vorläufig noch nicht lesen sollen. (Ich merke das, keine Sorge. Und dann lauft ihr eine Woche lang als Goblindrider-Hybride rum!) - Background information
Spoiler (Anzeigen)


Unchartered Lands - Chapter I

The noise outside her window was becoming unbearable for Ani'it, so she threw off her blanket and climbed out of the bed. The dizziness in her head vanished very slowly, a certain sign that sleep had not been her partner tonight, at least not for that long. The female still wore the clothes of last night's foray into some of Bezantur's more prominent guest houses, so she had not to worry about her looks when opening the shutters.
The sun was still just creeping away from the horizon, but the streets were filled with a variety of people, all gesticulating, shouting, and debating with one another. Ani'it looked up and down the length of the street, shaking her head. Something important must have happened since last night, for hardly would the populace of a city like Bezantur be up and bustling about like that this early.
Her curiosity caught up on Ani'it and with it any chance of sleep this morning was now safely gone. The guestroom was as good a place for gathering information as any, so the woman decided on getting a decent breakfast and listing to the stories that were making the rounds there. Still enough time to go out and have a look for more afterwards. Ani'it made her way through the empty house and had to get herself  a breakfast on her own, as no-one bar the blind father of owner of the inn, Hared Fizan, was inside the building. Since she was sure the world would still be outside the windows after her breakfast, she sat down near the old chap and helped herself to some bred, cheese and roasted meat.
 "Is it you, Ani'it," the old man asked, after visible sniffing the air.
A smile crossed her face even while she was chewing.
 "And here was me thinking you can distinguish people by their footsteps, rather than their smell, Farsal!"
 "That and much more, lightstep," the old man replied, turning around to face her. Cleaning the hands on her trousers, she scanned the room for another mug, retrieved it and pored some quite expansive vintage she found in the kitchen's locker from a brass decanter.
 "Here's something for you throat, so it won't run dry while you tell me what the fuzz is all about out there!" She shoved the mug into Farsal's reach and fell on her breakfast again.
A rumbling laughter left the old man's chest, as he grabbed the mug. "That's just like my good Ghindra," he said, "the world herself could fell into oblivion, but she would continue and finish whatever she was doing at the moment." Farsal took a decent gulp and set the mug down. "They say Aznar Thurl is dead, Ani'it. That, people might say, is a good thing. But the rumors go that the Necromancer is behind it and already his undead hordes are assembling. He wants to become emperor of Thay and all tharchs that do not bow to his will, will be quashed. No need telling you that Bezantur will not bow to the Necromancer."
Ani'it had stopped chewing when Farsal told her about Szass Tam's plans, but decided to continued her meal after a couple of moments later.
 "People are up in arms already, fearing the undead that will come down from the north, and with Aznar Thrul apparently gone, the fear is even greater."
 "People always wet their pants about something," Ani'it finally commented. She looked at the window and saw the inn's owner talking to a number of citizens and militiamen. He looked quite distressed.
 "Hear me, lightstep," said Farsal, leaning closer. "Should it come to war, they will conscript anyone and anything that can hold a weapon. They did that the last time war broke out and they will do it this time. I for one would not wait here till my brain gets fried by some of Tam's abominations!"
 "Have you got any place you can go to? Somewhere to see this out?" Her eyes were still fixed on the people outside the inn while she spoke.
Farsal laughed again. "Look at me, I will not run anywhere, nor have I anywhere to run to. I'm an old chap and if I die it will only cut short the few month still left in me."
Ani'it's hand found his, squeezing a few platinum pieces between his fingers. "Take these and help yourself to a few hours of comfort of at the temple of Sharess. I think I take your advice ... and my bow from this city!"
A commotion at the door drew her attention. Still panting from his run, a boy stood there, looking straight at Ani'it. He mumbled something and the words 'red hair' barely made it over to Ani'it. "What is it," Farsal asked.
The boy stumbled towards her table, bowing his head. "Mistress Ani'it," he said in his youthful voice, "I have to deliver this letter to you!" He produced the parchment from his vest and handed it over to the female. She dropped a few coppers into his hands, upon which he turned and raced away.
 "See, it's as I told you, they will conscript anyone. But full marks to them," he grunted, "never would have thought that they get into action this quick."
Ani'it scanned the lines and raised an eyebrow. She was indeed conscripted, but not by any Bezantur official, but her own guildmistress. "Well, Farsal, I'll be off now. Take care and don't forget the platinums, will you?!"
When passing the old man, he grabbed her hand for a short moment. She stood, looking down at him. Farsal was the only one in the inn - and most likely the whole town - which did not judge her on her appearance and lacked any of the suspicion she felt with anyone she spoke to.
Instinctively, she squeezed his hand, bowed down and planted a soft kiss on Farsal's cheek. Half a moment later, she went up the stairs to gather her equipment.
The sun stood high above Bezantur, blazing down on streets still filled with people, when Ani'it made her way to the Seven Wands, an inn just to the north of Myrkul's old temple. The guildmistress had briefed her on the events that occurred, elaborating on the bits and pieces Ani'it had gathered from Farsal and those on the street. Furthermore, Etain had told her of a mission she was assigned to by the Scarlet Sash, after a request was posted by some of the more prominent customers of the guild. She was to meet a Red Wizard in the Seven Wands who would tell her more, a Red she had already worked for. Etain had given her access to the secret vaults of the guild and informed her that the Sash would not wait for any undead horde to sweep through Bezantur and the guildhouse. They were about to relocate and Ani'it was offered the chance to hand-pick her equipment. She did not need a second invitation.

Now, the female entered the inn disguised as an Thayan trader and was immediately stunned by the number of people inside. She recognized a dozen or so, people of her ilk, mercenaries, scouts, bounty-hunters and many more, so-called adventurers. A number of Red Wizards stood in the center of the room and her contact, Thorion, spotted her soon enough. No wonder, of course, as Ani'it had not dyed her red hair and thus stood out amongst most Thayans anyway.
The mage closed in on her and ushered her into a room upstairs without any explanation. Three more people were already waiting, all males. Thorion closed the door and quickly spoke a couple of spells, most likely warding the room off against magical scrying.
 "You all know me by different names, but names do not matter today. Be assured that I am pleased of your attendance." The Red Wizard moved to a place behind the large wooden table, facing all his guests.
 "As you have gathered by now, certain events have transpired from the north as well as out of the Citadel. I can confirm that the rumors are indeed true. The Tharchion and Zulkir Aznar Thrul is dead, slain amongst others in a great amount of bloodshed right within his Citadel. The circumstances are not clear, as all protections were and are still in place." The Red Wizards looked at the faces of the four, before continuing.
"I can also confirm that the Necromancer Lord has set his sights on ruling all of Thay and that diplomacy is not an option any longer. His forces have already attacked the northern Tharchs and soon enough it is expected that those loyal to him will show their true faces, even within this city. And it will be not long either before his undead slaves march against the city as such. To that extend, Samas Kul, who has been elevated to the rank of Tharchion of Priador earlier today, has ordered a conscription and all able men and women will join the defense forces of Bezantur. Some," Thorion pointed to the door, "will be sent on special missions and we hope to thwart a number of Tam's loyalists in the region before they can actually do any harm. You, though, will conduct a mission on my behalf."
He stressed the last words and the tiefling got the impression that confidentiality started right there.
"I served the previous Tharchioness, Mari Agneh, long before Aznar Thrul defeated her. Few people know that he did not kill but enslaved her in his fortress, keeping her as his private pet slave." A hint of disdain and agitation crept into his voice. Ani'it remembered Thrul's special liking of the faith of Loviatar.
"That dolt Samas Kul may be a brilliant trader, but he certainly is not of Tharchion-quality, so we do need a person capable of defending this city from Tam's abominations." He drew a deep breath, calming himself.
"We do know that after the killing of Thrul, Mari Agneh was not found within the citadel or her prison. We also know that some large chest was transported to one of Thrul's enclaves only the day before yesterday. We have no clue whatsoever whether Thrul knew anything of an upcoming attempt on his life, but I firmly believe that he got his most prized possessions off to his enclave and Mari was amongst them. She is ... or rather was a capable leader and an even more competent wizard. This city is in dire need of both and thus," he looked firmly at the assembled party, "I will send you to that enclave and recover the chest or Mari Agneh."
Ani'it let that sink in for a moment. Obviously, she was not willing to stay here and defend anyone's skin - the Sashes were already gone, of course. Soon, conscription would be upon her and this redrobe offered a job that would get her away from here. Her tongue needed just a little push and the wizard duly obliged.
"Each of you will get 15,000 gold pieces in gems, slaves or coin, just like you prefer payment. A third of which right now, if you agree to the venture. And once you do, I'll tell you more."
The tiefling sent a glance at the three males. Two of them towered head and shoulders above her, both clad in fine armor. The third, not as impressive a figure as the other two, had the keen and piercing eyes which usually went along with a cunning mind. Even while her mind was calculating and processing the abilities of her new partners, her mouth began to talk.
 "Sounds good to me. At least better than to guard the parapets here and enjoy the embrace of some undead creeps."
Ani'it sensed more than saw agreement amongst her new companions. The chap with that large sword tied to his back uttered a short "I'm in!", while the Aurilite in his shining deep blue armor merely nodded.
'Keen-eyes' also nodded and turned to the Red Wizard: "So what is there to know which you could not tell us before?"
Ani'it instantly noted the deep Untheric dialect of the chap, a typical foreign mercenary then. As Thorion was not someone to leave something to chance, she assumed that he had gathered his most competent associates for the business.
"All foreign trade is in the hands of Samas Kul and his trade council. Thrul despised him and his dealings and established a few enclaves of his own. One about 13 month ago. It lies in a far off land, far off any civilization of Faerûn. A few dragonship sailors found these new shores, rich of ore, gems, and the like, so we got into a deal with them quickly after we found out. A secret deal that is." His voice was demanding confidentiality now.
Thrul established an enclave over there, sending his most loyal and some of his most capable people through a special portal, to trade with the sailors right there and to guard the outpost from the indigenous folk. All developed quite nicely and it was soon found that ancient civilizations had inhabited the lands before, their ruins spread all over the place. Anyway, the chest I mentioned was brought to that place by a group numbering about 20 in total, including Red Wizards like me and a few undead."
Thorion got a number of scrolls out of his robe's many pockets and presented them to the four. It were five scrolls in total, one elaborately marked with a sigil of Aznar Thrul himself.
 "These papers will tell the Thayan ambassador that you work under my authority and since I know her quite well, there will not be any difficulties or inquiries about your work. That said, the portal is guarded by one of Thrul's own creations and only the latter knows the way to activate the portal on the other side. Hence you will get this fifth parchment, authorizing you to use the portal at will and any time you like. If all goes according to plan, you will only need to go through that process twice though, tomorrow night and when you bring Mari back."
He handed a scroll to every member of the party and left the remaining one on the table, so the foursome could decide about the diplomatic aspects of their venture for themselves.
 "The enclave has been used as some sort of special retreat for some of Thrul's associates as well as a place of exile for those he did not particularly like. None of the latter ever returned. So be prepared for a rough-neck approach by the officials over there - or some unwanted attention by the exiles. Questions?"
A few things sprang to Ani'it's mind, but 'Keen-eyes' was quicker. He raised an eyebrow and asked: "Just in case this ... chest does not hold your missing Tharchioness, we are to bring it and ... or whatever it held back to Bezantur?"
 "That is required to fulfill the deal." Thorion replied. "Though I am quite certain that Mari is in that chest, and hopefully alive as well."

( open for some more questions which escaped my memory )

"Meet me two hours after sunset at the Black Rose Inn, just south of The Manor. I'll get you inside the fortress and on your way." With that, Thorion stood up, pointed at the remaining scroll and before leaving the room, placed four bags on the table - the advance payment. Every member of the group retrieved their due and sized one another up. The tallest of them, a guy who called himself Ehran Irgalan left no doubt about his profession and his patron. Obviously Mulan by descent, the brown-haired man had the scar-lined face of a warrior and a hilt of the two-handed sword showed prominently over his shoulder. His green eyes professionally sized every party member up, trying to take in as much information - most likely of her combat prowess - as possible.
Clad in blue armor, the second bulky chap was obviously some follower of Auril, as her symbol prominently showed on his trousers. Ani'it even got the impression that the breastplate he wore was made of solid ice, even though she had never seen or heard of somesuch before. His eyes matched his armor in colour and steely sheen. The tiefling hadn't had that much contact to this church before, so she decided to postpone any judgement on it until she had spent some time in the company of this Tandril of Auril.
Last came 'Keen-eyes', the Untheric mercenary. His chestnut-brown eyes shimmered with a sorcerer's cunning intelligence that never failed to impress Ani'it. Then again, the chap wore a finely crafted leather armor, which was unusual for anyone wielding the arcane arts. Maybe there was more to 'Keen-eyes' than just that, Ani'it mused. Not that she had made any of her talents as obvious as Ehran or Tandril. They would soon enough find out about her abilities.
When 'Keen-eyes' laid his eyes upon her, she nodded towards the scrollcase on the table and bade the men a good night. They would surely become annoying enough by the end of the next day.

Ani'it spent the next day retrieving all her possessions and acquiring all necessary equipment. That done, she spent a few hours debating the venture with the Emerald Whip, the leader of the Sashes in Bezantur. Etain wished her well and gave her the new location of the headquarter of the guild - should she require assistance after her return. Normally, the Sashes would contact her rather than vice versa.
After a short stay with one of the city's more notorious alchemists, she went back to her inn and prepared herself and her equipment for the trip to that unchartered land. Farsal was nowhere to be seen, only his son was about, lamenting on the disaster which had befallen him and his home. Ani'it did not linger any longer than it took her to pay what she owed him. The sun was just about to vanish in the waves of the Alamber Sea when she stood in the long shadow of Bezantur's massive Citadel. Never did she venture close to this darkly foreboding home of the rulers of the largest city of the Tharch of Priador. The place where Aznar Thrul had been slain only a day or so ago. Now she was about to enter this very place with a band of strangers to embark on a trip to a land not even her employer had any clue of. A small part of  Ani'it's mind was telling her to flee the place with the money she got, another part hinted at new opportunities beyond that portal, while a third part was still complaining about the lack of sleep and thus her inability to judge rationally. The tiefling decided to keep them all bartering a while longer and entered the inn near Loviatar's Manor.
Once more, she was the last to appear. The males gave her a short bow or nod and before she had the chance to order anything, Thorion made his entrance as well and bade them to follow him to the Citadel. Time was obviously of importance today, she thought silently. "No drinks for me then," her mouth mused more loudly, but the males ignored her plea and longing look for the vintage wines presented by the innkeeper.
Soon after, Thorion lead them into the depths of the Citadel, bypassing a number hard-staring guards and gates strong enough to withstand an entire army's onslaught. Ani'it took it all in with the trained eye of her profession, just in case Thorion decided to cut their deal short and keep the remainder of the payment in his coffers. Finally, they reached a number of extensive hallways, all leading up to a central dais with a towering archway. The Red Wizard bade them waiting for a moment just beneath the dais and began talking to the two men guarding the portal. The hallway was lined by large carts, all canvas covered. Ani'it's interest ended when she spotted the hulking ogre skeletons used as draftbeasts. Thorion returned soon enough and after the guards uttered a few unintelligible syllables, the portal sprang into action, presenting the night-time image of a settlement the Red Wizard declared to be Sargunt. Ani'it drew in a sharp breath and nodded towards Ehran: "Off to this unchartered land then!" The male duly obliged and vanished through the portal. Interestingly enough, he did not appear in the picture presented by the portal, but Ani'it decided that she would find out soon enough about the why's. With a mixture of dread and anticipation, she followed Ehran ...
Ust, usstan elgg dos ...

Cease this tirade, take a breath, and think. Then you will realize, enemy of the Dark Elves, that my concern for your well being has always been, at best, limited.

Zanan

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Zanan's Unchartered Lands Adventure
« Antwort #1 am: 10. Dezember 2007, 11:54:13 »
Part II (still subject to editing and more story input)

Chapter II - Sargunt
( Sandpoint )
(The "Unchartered Land" - Varisia
For the sake of the adventure, Varisia was turned 90° clockwise and Sargunt (Sandpoint) is actually Riddlestone on the map. They are heading "eastwards" to the mines in the Red Mountains.)


Ehran showed more intelligence than she anticipated, as he had stepped away from the portal as soon as he had passed it. Thus, she did not barge into the broad male's back. The panoramic view they both enjoyed now surprised her even more, as they were standing on the edge of a town clad in cover of night. Ani'it danced away from the portal and to the left side of the archway, a perfect mirror image of the one she just passed in far off Bezantur. Zazamoukh and Tandril appeared in front of the portal, the latter showing the tense features of someone not used to this sort of magical travel. Half a thought later, the silvery surface on this side of the portal vanished and only two large and rather unspectacular stone columns remained. The tiefling scanned the immediate surroundings and muttered: "No portalkeeper in sight, I'm afraid." Two of the males agreed with a few words she did not understand, but the tiefling was not in the mood to ask.
 The portal stood on a similar dais as the one on Thay, only that this one stood within the remains of an ancient tower or lighthouse. Right to the west, a vast lake or sea expanded into the night and beyond Ani'it's vision. To the north, a massive mountain range loomed over the city, its peaks glistening silver in the light of the stars. Beyond the scantily lit settlement - a cluster of about three dozen houses, forests stretched as far as Ani'it could see. Maybe daylight would reveal more and she saw a shimmer of gray on the horizon far to the East.
Movement at the feet of the hill upon which the tower once stood caught her attention. Someone who looked distinctly like a sleepy city guard scrambled to his feet and rang a bell. By the time the four had made their way down to the guard, a door of a house nearby opened and a shaft of light pierced the night. As it vanished, two more guards had appeared and made their way up to the portal, trying to get themselves and their clothes into order. While waiting for the captain of the guard to arrive, Ani'it could not miss the frown on Ehran's face. She had a clear image what the tall warrior would do to these chaps if they were his charges. The captain, a Thayan by the looks of it, gathered his wits soon enough though and asked them all the questions one would expect of guard, only to stop short when Zazamouhkh presented the scrollcase with Thrul's seal. The male from Unther asked whether they could speak to the enclave's leader and after a short debate, a meeting between the group and one Chatryn was to be arranged by the next morning. The captain showed them to one of the better inns of Sargunt, describing the 'city' and giving all sorts of information and advice. It was, of course, a poorly veiled attempt to make them forget - and mention - his and his guards' lapse during their watch. While Tandril, Ehran and Ani'it stayed at the inn, the aptly named "Mother Suvarra's Kitchen", Zazamoukh skulked off into Sargunt's night.
 By the time the meeting was arranged, the Untheric chap was back in the inn, looking much like he used to. Ani'it kept her eyes trained on him for a while, trying to discern whether something more lay behind the mask of this man, something unpleasantly monstrous maybe. She did not find anything unusual though and while they made their way to the enclave's embassy, Zazamoukh related some more information on Sargunt, mainly about the inns and the places of pleasure though. This struck Ani'it as a bit odd, but she did not have the time to comment, as they reached the ambassador's palace. Well, it was certainly the most impressive building in all Sargunt, but paled in comparison to most buildings of note in Bezantur. Then again, Ani'it mused, this place was so far off any civilization that this bit of luxury might border on extravagance hereabouts. Made solidly of stone - something of a rarity in Sargunt, it seemed - it appeared to be the largest and best-fortified building, its walls topping at about 20 feet. The entrance to the Red Wizards' seat of power was lined by large banners featuring the golden stitched symbol of Aznar Thrul, as it befitted the Tharchion. The embassy's massive iron doors were thrown wide open and guarded by a couple of grim-looking men, both wielding razor-sharp glaives. As expected, they barred the way of Ani'it and her comrades, not giving her or Zazamoukh's words any heed. Someone else did though, a pale, gaunt man left the building, his figure a stark contrast to his clothes. The latter clearly depicted him as some sort of seneschal or herald of the enclave's ruler. He gave them a dismissive look, but his eyes went wide as he spotted the scrollcase featuring Thrul's seal. About four breaths later, the seneschal knocked on the ambassador's door and a hushed female voice bade them in.
 Chatryn was sitting behind a large oak table on the far side of a lavishly stuffed room. She obviously had tried hard to bring some Thayan flair into this place of the world and Ani'it gave her credit for her achievements. The bald-headed female stood up, a movement which prompted her six-feet tall hulk of a bodyguard to step back more quickly than his obviously bloated dignity had wanted. He nonetheless gave the four visitor as cold a stare as he could, telling them in a undisguised way what would happen to them should they do something silly ontowards the ambassador.
 After a formal introduction,  Zazamoukh handed the scrollcase to Chathryn, who quickly scanned the documents written by Thorion. Her face paled visibly, despite her glorious tattoos, and she sat down again.
 "These words by my old friend Thorion spell disaster," she said in a hoarse voice. "If the worst comes to pass, undead may leap from the portal and into my city in a few weeks from now, if not sooner." She looked up at her bodyguard. "This side is prepared for an assault from the wilds, but not from within. We would be quite open to such an attack and while the Guardian is away, we cannot even send couriers to Bezantur to see how things develop."
 Zazamoukh raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean? Is the Guardian not here? That person who is responsible for getting us back to Bezantur once our venture is successful?"
 "Indeed. He has gone with the people you are tracking, on behalf of Aznar Thrul himself. So if you find what you are looking for, you'll find the Guardian too."
'Clever little bastard', Ani'it thought. He brought his valuables over here and by ordering this undead thing to go along with the caravan, he virtually cut off any back-questioning and possible subterfuge from this side. Even better, if this Guardian was indeed a lich, his valuables were in even safer hands, so to speak. Obviously, gettin home might become a tad more difficult now. She had a glimpse at the dragonboats and their sailors earlier and would certainly not enjoy a longer trip on those things. Chathryn stood up again, gathering Ani'it's attention.
 "You will get any support you need, any support we can afford - under these circumstances. My seneschal will see to that. Now have a look!"
The ambassador drew their attention to a large map which covered the greater part of the northern wall. She took a small staff and started to point at various places on the map, places which obviously depicted the lands surrounding the enclave. As it seems, only a very small portion was actually civilized, despite the rather long stay of both the dragonboat sailors and the Red Wizards. Ani'it decided to worry about that later, as she wanted to take in as much information as possible.
Apparently, all but the route towards the mines was wilderness, some more, some less dangerous. As it befitted a place far removed from Faerûn, there were monsters and people milling about of which neither the Red Wizards nor the dragonboat sailors had ever heard about. There had been an ancient culture hundreds of years ago, their ruined cities an ever present feature in the woods and hills, but no-one had yet discerned who or even what they were. Various sorts of humanoids populated the different areas, some more, some less civilized. Most of them, Chathryn said, were hostile though. No wonder, Ani'it mused, since Red Wizard diplomacy always carried a touch of magical fire and domination spells. Something not everyone was accustomed too.
The ambassador stopped with a short description of the mines, the place where the caravan of Thrul was heading to. She had no clue whether it was their final destination, but did not think so. Various 'scouts' of the Tharchion had ventured into the land beyond the hills in recent months, so she expected some hidden place or stronghold somewhere beyond the mines. She got herself a parchment and a quill, noting down some orders for the commander of the mines. "That'll give him instructions to help you to the best of his limited abilities. Without asking too many questions!"
Minutes later, she dismissed the group and had her seneschal running for the captain of the guard, the high captain of the dragonboat sailors as well as the priests. Watching the chaos unfold in Sargunt, the four from Bezantur gathered their equipment and started off buying supplies. By noon they made for the eastern gates and towards the mines. Just before leaving, they noted a woman clad in priestly garments, garments Ani'it immediately recognized as those of an acolyte of Loviatar. As she saw them heading out to the East, the woman intercepted them and greeted the four in Thayan.
 After a short confirmation of their destination, the woman called Essra bade them to look for her husband, a woodcutter and ranger. He was missing for a couple of days now and the woman got worried. The ambassador declined her wish to leave the enclave on her own, nor was willing to send someone looking for the husband. "A caravan will leave for the mines eventually and they may look for you husband then," Chatryn had said.
 Essra offered them 100 goldpieces per head as well as free healing for any sort of information on her husband. While Ehran was his uttering his discontent at the distraction, Zazamoukh and Tandril readily agreed. Some extra coin would go down well with Ani'it too. So they took Essra's word on that and headed off towards the mines, after the woman had given them a detailed description of her husband.
Ust, usstan elgg dos ...

Cease this tirade, take a breath, and think. Then you will realize, enemy of the Dark Elves, that my concern for your well being has always been, at best, limited.

Wormys_Queue

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Zanan's Unchartered Lands Adventure
« Antwort #2 am: 11. Dezember 2007, 21:07:32 »
Just finished reading the first chapter and enjoyed it quite a lot. Ani'it to be a tiefling came as a nice surprise (I tend to think "drow" for some obscure reason, if I see your name ;) ). Interesting setting and though I've no skill points in Knowledge(locale:Thay), the name of Szass Tam promises that things will get interesting soon. Actually they were already after your introductory post.

Though I started in english anyways, I've a question: Would you prefer us to comment on your posts in english so that your finnish friend understands what's going on in any discussion (and maybe can take part if he wishes)?
Think the rulebook has all the answers? Then let's see that rulebook run a campaign! - Mike Mearls
Wormy's Worlds

Topas

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« Antwort #3 am: 13. Dezember 2007, 16:41:06 »
Yeah, it's a nice read. But one fact makes me a bit curious. Why do you write it all from Ani'its Viewpoint? Is she your char? From the Backgroundinformation that you are giving I take that you to are the Storyteller.
Immense harm is caused by the belief that work is virtuous.
- Bertrand Russel

Zanan

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Zanan's Unchartered Lands Adventure
« Antwort #4 am: 14. Dezember 2007, 12:32:14 »
Zitat von: "Topas"
Yeah, it's a nice read. But one fact makes me a bit curious. Why do you write it all from Ani'its Viewpoint? Is she your char? From the Backgroundinformation that you are giving I take that you to are the Storyteller.


First, I am the DM. Second, Ani'it is indeed the DMC and I found easier to write it from her perspective than just stating facts and figures. T'will take a bit of time and previous articles will be updated with additional info, but I found it well worth a try. Obviously, all those cheeky SC will come to know what Ani'it actually thinks of them.
Updates on the last article and the last session will follow soon.
Ust, usstan elgg dos ...

Cease this tirade, take a breath, and think. Then you will realize, enemy of the Dark Elves, that my concern for your well being has always been, at best, limited.

Zanan

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Zanan's Unchartered Lands Adventure
« Antwort #5 am: 14. Januar 2008, 12:49:08 »
They moved eastwards to the mountain range that housed the Enclave’s mines, traveling on what looked like an ancient road. Most of the time, it followed the run of the river, meandering into the woods only when hills and rocky slopes obstructed its way. Either side of the river was deciduous woodland, obscuring much of the scenery that lay behind. At the end of the first day, they accommodated themselves below a large boulder, not that far off the river. While the Tandril and Ehran were preparing their bedrolls, Zazamoukh produced some sort of magical knickknack, something to sleep in that Ani'it had never seen before. The man from Unther produced a little carpet and once it unrolled, a small tent appeared just next to it out of no-where. A small campfire was there as well, and a little rack with a couple of heavy waterskins. "Neat," the tiefling uttered. Keen-eyes gave her a half-smile, apparently familiar with the effect his little toy had on people.
The night, quite cold as it was for someone used to the warmer climates of Thay, went by quickly, not least to the fact that the sounds in these foreign lands were quite new to anyone and had them on the edge a fair number of times. Some sort of prowling animals were on the hunt, barking and howling somewhere in the darkness. The day was still young when Ani'it's keen ears noted the sound of someone trying to sneak up on the camp. As quietly and quickly as she could - who knew how these males reacted when stirred from their dreams - the tiefling roused the males. Keen-eyes was just out of his tent when a bear of a man and a large white wolf rose from the bushes of a nearby mound. He bellowed a war cry and shook is bone club, obviously trying to impress the four in the camp. Ani'it absently shook her head, wondering whether men all over this world were inherently stupid. Why trying to sneak up on someone, only to make himself known at the worst opportunity? Her mistress at the guildhouse had always told her that the last words of a would-be assassin usually were: 'I will kill you!'. Any half-decent killer would open her mouth only after the life had left the body of a victim, if at all.
After putting this chap into the not-so-bright category, Ani'it tried to discern any weak spots and apparent tactics. The beastman looked much like the barbarians of Rashemen, only that he was even less clad and had a fine layer of hair all over his body. His teeth look more primal too, so at first glance this beastman was either some poor excuse for a human, or a crossbreed between orcs or hobgoblins and humans. It charged down the hill and again she noted that same bloodlust that accompanied the berserkers of the Rashemaar when they charged into battle. The wolf rushed straight a Keen-eyes, apparently thinking that the oldest and barely armored man was the easiest prey. Sure enough, the large creature jumped on the man from Unther and toppled him over, before the latter could raise any magical barrier. His bite drew a bit of blood, but Ani'it was sure that Keen-eyes would survive it, at least for the time being. The beastman ran straight at Ehran, whom he accepted as the main thread - great sword and all. Steel rang against bone and to the tiefling's surprise, the bone weapon did not shatter. Tandril got his axe ready, but decided to use magic on the beastman instead. Stepping forward while speaking a short incantation, he hammered his fist into the beastman's side and instantly opened a dozen tiny and very bloody wounds on the berserker's body. Still, the attacker did not seem to notice the attack, for he swung his club wildly at Ehran. To Ani'it's surprise again, the beastman hit Ehran, upon which the human grunted and repaid the compliment with a nasty slash at the beastman's side. While the males were exchanging such pleasantries, Ani'it tried to lure the white wolf somewhat away from the fallen Zazamoukh. It sent a blast of white air at her, but she neatly sidestepped the rather unexpected attack. Keen-eyes got up and while doing so, invoked some sort of spell which immediately started to heal his wounds. After that, he got his bearings and moved a little sideways, as if trying to get the wolf and the beastman into a line. Ani'it fended off the wolf, not exactly wounding it with her small, claw-like dagger. Wounding was on the way though, as Keen-eyes produced some sort of magical chain-arrow, which tore into the wolf, out of it, and into the beastman too. Instantly, Ani'it decided to keep an eye on the man, who apparently had much more to offer than what met the eye. Ehran continued to exchanged hits and cuts with the berserker, but was gaining an upper hand, not least due to the fact that Tandril's blue axe landed some blows as well.
Just as Keen-eyes blasted the two enemies again, Ani'it's senses warned her of something at her back - and not any second too late. Another berserker and his wolf had almost successfully sneaked up from the other side of the camp. Noting the tiefling's attention, the beastman bellowed his war cry and send his wolf at Ani'it. He noted that the combined work of Tandril and Ehran had wittled down the resistance of his comrade and thus charged Ehran, murder in his mind. Despite the large wolf charging at her, Ani'it jabbed at the bypassing berserker, wounding him only a little. Keen-eyes deftly stepped out of the beastman's way, while the wolf who had attacked him, was retreating over the mound - obviously the most clever of all their attackers. Tandril saw the new threat coming and stepped back a little, watching the first beastman going down under a last axe-hit. Ehran faced the berserker and this time tried to disarm the attacker with a wicked slash to his weapon arm. He failed just a little, so the two set of for another bloody dance. Tandril let them have their fun and glanced at the wolf - who was opposing Ani'it and Zazamoukh. The tiefling was whittling away the wolf's fur with a string of cuts and slashes, while Zazamoukh kept a good distance from the two. The priest of Auril turned his attention back to the beastman right in time to see Ehran skewering him with as good a strike as he had seen in his life. The beastman reeled away, receiving another slash of Ehran's blade. Not wanting to give the tall warrior all the satisfaction, Tandril uttered another prayer to the Frostmaiden and placed a wicked vortex of whirling blades around the berserker. Blood-mad as he was, he did not really seem to notice. Zazamoukh, watching as Ani'it disposed the second wolf with a nasty thrust to the beast's throat, turned to the beastman and sent another bolt of magical energy through the blades. It hit the berserker in the chest and sent him over the edge. Or, more precisely, beyond the edge of reason. He attempted to charge Ehran and vanished in a spray of blood and gore when hitting the vortex of blades. The warrior tried to get out of the direction of the mess coming his way, but failed. Drenched in the remains of the beastman, he looked even more frightening, Ani'it thought.
Cleaning her weapon on the big wolf's fur, she pointed to the river and Ehran's clothes. "Better getting yourself clean again. Or some more of these furballs may come calling, wanting a little lick."
The tall human glared at her, but went down to the water anyway. Keen-eyes was looking over the mess that had been their camp only a few minutes ago. "Sun is about to rise in an hour or so. I support the idea to break up camp early and get ourselves moving again."
Not exactly waiting for a reply, the male gathered his clothes and equipment. When Ehran returned, his three comrades left him with no other option than to pack up his bags as well, as they slowly made their way up towards the mines in the East again.

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Ust, usstan elgg dos ...

Cease this tirade, take a breath, and think. Then you will realize, enemy of the Dark Elves, that my concern for your well being has always been, at best, limited.

Zanan

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Zanan's Unchartered Lands Adventure
« Antwort #6 am: 26. Februar 2008, 16:04:07 »
They traveled along that road for about half a day, when Ani'it spotted the remains of a mule. A small path was leading away into the wooded hills and the poor animal was apparently being killed by wolves. It was quite fresh a kill though and despite Ehran's protests, Keen-eyes decided on having a look. It became quite obvious that the beast belonged to a hunter, as Ani'it found a fair number of traps and skins. Zazamoukh decided on investigating the path, at least to the other side of the hill. The man uttered a few arcane syllables and vanished from view. Soon after, Ani'it could no longer hear his footsteps, so she decided on having a look at the mule's bags. Not much later, she heard a distant howl and stood up.
"Seems to me that he found something," she told her brothers-in-arms.
Hardly 20 heartbeats later, Zazamoukh appeared before them, saying that he found the missing huntsman ... as well as a number of woodfolk with horned heads and cloven feet. Ehran's frown deepened, but Tandril and Zaza agreed with Ani'it on freeing the missing fellow. The sound that came from the woods behind the hill grew louder, so Ani'it took her bow and vanished into the shadows of the nearby trees. Keen-eyes, not intend on drawing too much attention to himself, became invisible again, so the Aurilite and Ehran hoisted their weapons and moved purposefully up the path, the former uttering a short prayer to his goddess.
Behind the hill, the trees retreated somewhat and opened the view upon a wide glen, featuring a small creek and a crystal clear lake. To the far side of the latter, the two males spotted the body of a man, lying motionless in the grass. On their side of the lake, a straight line of burned ground marked out the obvious cause of the anger that was visible on the 'faces' of the glen's inhabitants, bow-wielding and sword-swinging beings.
"Satyrs," said Tandril, "nothing to write home about, if you'd ask me!"
The intend of the satyrs was quite obvious, for as soon as they saw the two males, one charged them, another let his bowstring sing, while a third whipped a horn about and heartily blew a long wailing tone.
Ehran set his spear against the charging satyr, while Tandril, after dodging the arrow, called upon the might of Auril and send a sheet of flames cascading from the sky ontowards the two standing woodfolk. They howled about in anguish and almost instantly followed their comrade, battle-lust in their blood-red eyes. Before the first satyr reached Ehran, Ani'it sent a dart out of the woods, driving it deep into the beasts side. It stumbled half a step and as Ehran adjusted his aim accordingly, the satyr impaled itself on the human's spear. "You simply are as stupid as you look," he said and whipped his two-handed sword out of its scabbard. Keen-eyes remained invisible, as if watching for something to happen. Right on cue, another pair of satyrs broke out of the woods on the far side of the lake, spotted the humans and came after them.
Ust, usstan elgg dos ...

Cease this tirade, take a breath, and think. Then you will realize, enemy of the Dark Elves, that my concern for your well being has always been, at best, limited.

Zanan

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Zanan's Unchartered Lands Adventure
« Antwort #7 am: 05. März 2008, 12:37:09 »
Ani'it, still hidden in the shadows of the trees, tried to spot Keen-eyes, whom she knew was nearby. She made a note in her memory, trying to remember that the male was able to vanish from sight - not that bad a magical power to draw upon. Finally, Zazamoukh did appear, as from his fingertips sprang a bolt of magic and raced towards the breast of one of the approaching woodfolk. To Ani'it's surprise, the magic sprang from one to the next, leaving nasty marks of melted flesh behind ... and satyrs howling in pain. Another note in her memory appeared.
Ehran stepped onto the spear that still impaled the satyr in front of him and whipped his blade about twice, opening two ghastly wounds and sending the beast into its afterworld. Sword high above its head, the second satyr arrived in front of Tandril, who easily diverted the attack with his blue axe. From afar, it then looked as if something wanted to take a grip on his mind, as the tall human shook his head - a movement Ani'it remembered all too well when enchanting magic was hurled about. Instantly, she scanned the battlefield, but saw no-one. That was apparently  not the case with Keen-eyes though, as he suddenly sent one of his bolts into thin air near the lake. A muffled cry of pain told the tiefling about an invisible, clearly female creature lurking about there. She quickly adjusted her positioning, not wanting to stay in clear view of something invisible, something that could hurl spells. She whipped her bow from the shoulder and kept a close eye on the lake's shore, ignoring the two charging satyrs for the moment.
Tandril, having called upon the powers of his goddess, took a hard grip on his axe and in a vicious series of blows, first cleaved off the satyr's left arm at its shoulder, then, as the creature almost doubled over, split its skull and upper body cleanly in half, spraying himself with the woodman's blood. Enraged by the gory demise of his fellow, the third satyr changed its bearing and hurled itself at the Aurilite. Its aim was true, yet, Tandril's darkish blue armor did not let its bearer down and deflected the blow. The human removed his bloodied axe from the corpse and glowered at his new opponent: "And you surely think that was something clever, do you?!"
Leaving the melee fun to his comrade, Ehran whipped another spear from his quiver and threw it at the approaching satyrs, striking one. Ani'it sent a couple of arrows at these two woodmen too, but her aim was off, as she was still keeping an eye on the lake's shore, suspecting the invisible spellcaster hiding there. Next to her, Zazamoukh invoked more of his magic, pointing at the site where Ani'it expected the enemy to be. The latter did not appear, but the tiefling clearly heard a hushed gasp, as Keen-eye's magic took hold on the spellcaster.
The sun flared on the wet blade of Tandril's axe, spelling doom for the hapless satyr. With one mighty swipe, the Aurilite cleaved through the woodman from left to right, severing the top halves of the left arm, chest and right arm from its lower parts. Another fountain of blood obscured Ani'it's view on Tandril, as the body of the satyr collapsed. "Gods," the tiefling whispered.
The two remaining satyrs finally came to their senses, stopped and were about to turn, as Keen-eyes let more magic flow out of his hand. It once again struck the first creature and sprang to the second, getting the latter out of way of Ehran's spear. Zazamoukh yelled at Tandril, shouting that something lurks near the edge of the lake.
Not needing another invitation, the Aurilite called upon the cold powers of his goddess and covered the area in a hail of icy air and boulder-sized icicles. They slew one of the remaining satyrs instantly, while the other bolted free and ran for its life. Keen-eye's "Well done!" proclaimed that the spellcaster thread was also gone, something he and Ani'it proved soon later. For after a while, the dead body of a mauled, yet still beautiful fey creature became visible, lying near the lake's shore.
"Charming," Ani'it mused, looking down at the creature. "Look's like it cost the poor chap over there his life, doesn't it?" She nodded at the human, who was quite dead as well, probably even longer than his mule. Keen-eyes produced a sour expression, much to the tiefling's delight.
"You know what 'Satyrdeath' and Ehran are going to say, don't you?" She continued to tease the male a bit further. "But thanks for letting me know about your and their talents. Quite impressive a spell-hurler you are, making your magics jump from this one to the next and all." She was about to continue telling him about all the other things she had noticed, but shut her mouth as the other two approached.
"Looks like you got us into trouble for nothing again, don't you?!" Ehran rumbled, as he spotted the dead hunter.
Keen-eyes retrieved some jewelry, a wand and an amulet from the dead body, presenting it to the two males.
"Always good to find a bit of these and ... to get to know the locals." He replied, a slight grin on his face.
Ani'it came back from the dead male, twirling a silvery chain around her fingers. "You see, now that Loviatan lass will know about her lover's fate and will show us her gratitude ... whatever that might mean." She added with a thoughtful look. The two hulking males continued to berate poor Zazamoukh for a few more moments, while Ani'it collected the useful stuff from the dead woodfolk. She cast a wary glance at the Aurilite, whose magic and axe-work had revealed a very competent character.

For those interested ... The Haunted Glen
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We have finished this adventure now and I will continue the rewrite it sporadically, as we have now started another one. For those interested, I'll write an article on the lass in the sarcophagus for the Gate soon.
Ust, usstan elgg dos ...

Cease this tirade, take a breath, and think. Then you will realize, enemy of the Dark Elves, that my concern for your well being has always been, at best, limited.