By Wand And By Will

Vashtar Wands impatiently waited as the idiot day-laborers, the ‘Armstrongs’ unloaded the booty from the old temple. Syndra wanted it removed of all symbols and décor of Mystra; she had motives but guarded herself well.

Before the Time of Troubles Vashtar was a devout follower of Wee Jas, the lady of Book and Bone; goddess of magic and death. Over time Vashtar began to see more at common than apart from Syndra, it was her cold selective demeanor that won him over and through the course of the year he worked his way to be close to her.

  

Vashtar's attention was averted as a banner was raised next to several others signifying Syndra’s presence in Tirisfall Ascendency. Syndra's banner embraced the wind like an anxious lover.The day was mild and breezy; warm wind from the Trackless Sea teased warmer weather to come.

“By wand and by will.” He said to himself; a sacred word for her safe travels.

Turning his attention back to his logistical responsibilities he suddenly and unexpectedly made eye-contact with death causing his heart to suddenly quiver and stopped briefly in his chest.

The newcomer moved with the unearthly speed of a shadow armed with a scythe, but when it stopped Vashtar could now see a mahogany skinned man with impossible muscles that looked capable of maintaining a deadly hold for all of eternity. He too had the demeanor of deadly truth but his was accompanied with ancient wisdom.

The newcomer, Jergal proceeded unfettered into the Wands family house heedless of everyone around him. When he was challenged, his gaze of eternity dissuaded them entirely without death or harm. Calm emotion washed over Jergal, a good omen in a house of mortals. It was not long before Jergal found his quarry- Syndra Wands- stewardess of spellcraft and the lady of runes.

“Mystra’s symbol has five stars, one for each of the original churches.” Jergal said unseen from the darkness. Unseen but not unnoticed by her he observed with pleasure.

Syndra finished the rendering of her sigil and turned her enchanting eyes to Jergal.

“I am re-branding old one,” she said knowingly. “Seven stars- one for each domain in my diocese.”   

“Your diocese? So you plan on obtaining magic and usurping Mystra?”

“I would not be much of a goddess of magic without it and I will fill whatever role is presented to me when I ascend.”

Jergal looked deeply into Syndra’s velvet eyes; eyes that looked so hauntingly like all the others.

“Either the aspect of magic is lost, destroyed, waiting in the heavens, or something else- I believe at the very least I can return or restore what was lost with the death of Mystra and all the magic gods.”

Caught unaware that she was now at arm’s reach; Jergal mental complimented her cunning and that she possessed conviction, but was is enough? That is what he was here to discover.

Tales from the North Ward Guard Post 3

Lieutenant Turgoz Tenhammer walked with a heavy step; shadowing his movements was his retainer Duke Elton Johns who regarded all of his dealings since arriving to the City of Splendors "fascinating". The North Ward Guard post was alive with activity as late and this day was no exception, industrious clamor of hammer and forge as well as voices of engineers and shouts from foreman as guards and laborers toiled with dutiful efficiency to fortify the jailhouse structure.

Tenhammer had a reputation for being both powerful physically, as he towered over most everybody, but also had a near supernatural intuition that made him one of the most successful bounty hunters in Waterdeep. The Duke, while educated, was aloof about life on the street- hence his position with Turgoz. 

Tenhammer took 'Duke' Elton Johns as an irrelevant branch in the Johns family tree from Balder’s Gate. The Johns achieved two things by sending Elton to Waterdeep: one, it serves as a kindly gesture to a neighboring city- aid in times of conflict and two, the act cuts off a family member whose questionable social activities do not show any promise of producing an heir.

Together Tenhammer and Johns inspected the gathered investigators assigned to the investigation by the three houses of the Courts- three women each with the promise for greatness: Sayde Hawkwinter, Kirkelie Gundwynd, and Karalynn Slimerhelve. 

“Look around you.” Tergoz began motioning to the new construction taking place. “These are no longer simple cells- they are meant for more than just a normal man or woman; they are meant for an Avatar.”

“Jail for a god.” Duke Johns could not contain a brief chortle of excitement.

“You three have been selected to investigate the death of Protector Hawkwinter and capture his murderer to be brought to justice. You will be along side Duke Johns and I as we investigate the leads that have led us to three likely suspects: a man who calls himself Gillian, an unknown and mysterious assassin, and Eva Maerklos who was known to harbor resentment against Protector Hawkwinter from the moment of their introductions.” 

Dragon Removers

Good Citizen, 

Waterdeep has prevailed once again- but at a cost to the buildings, walls and streets where we all do business. Wyvern carcasses, dead dragons, blood and debris fatigue Waterdeep's buildings and homes.  

There is a solution: have it expertly and carefully removed overnight. 

If a dragon carcass is threatening the structural integrity of your home or mayhap there is dragon blood pooling in your cellar.... whisper 'Draga-Ceryx' three times to any raven and your concerns will soon be a matter of the past. 

For the Realm!

DC

The Sinister Seven

In the light of the setting sun twenty-one individuals, each with spiteful evil dispositions, were seated at a long ornate twenty seat banquet table. They wore black, carried weapons crusted with old blood, and had an insatiable hunger for food and lust. Lying on the table, in various stages of consumption, were steaming foods, cold fruits and cheeses, and various loaves of warm bread and dinner rolls; a Year’s End feast. Wine glasses and goblets of mead were quickly and continuously refilled by seven topless bruised and beaten servant women; fear, deep and permanent locked in each of their rustic eyes.

Music, although it barely qualified as such, carried on the air like a jagged blade across stone. Dark clad warriors keen on showing off their ‘talent’ picked up instruments from some of the debris and began to play… horribly. The torture on the servants knew no bounds it seemed.

“Ale!” Came a table-pound and command witch prompted a servant into movement, but as she did a black cat scampered across her path causing her to lose her balance sending her sprawling into a large debris pile left behind when these evil men took control of the northern till of Goldenfields. The sound did well to mask a larger crash outside the banquet hall from the majority of the company who were laughing and jeering at the prone woman, but the Sinister Seven were not so easily distracted.

“Now what?” The normally composed Lord Ferestian asked Maskul; the all too familiar sounds of mortal

combat were steadily rising outside over the combat of dinner inside.

Maskul Mirromane looked to Rikusand Wijon, “You two check it out.”

“At once!” but before they could execute a thorough investigation the problem presented itself….

Yamun Kahan was at first a convenient distraction to Boris Nahal’s infiltration of Goldenfields and the undermining of Tolgar Anuvien: Yamun’s Great Wyrm tribe considered civilization a sickness and fought to restore the North’s natural skyline and return man to the natural order. According to Vicarzo DeMarcian, Yamun had amassed many riches for his crusade; held three divine aspects, hidden from all inspection; and most odd, seemed to take counsel from a feverish demihuman follower of Set. 

Assuming control was effortless while the Harvest Lords and Spring Ladies of Goldenfields fought Yamun’s horde and within days Lord Fesestian controlled most of the food coming into Waterdeep while Yamun’s horde and the Earthmother’s clerics fought over the remaining tillage.

...“Barbarians at the gate!” came the call.

Moments later the Sinister Seven found themselves fighting barbarians who were seemingly on the run, a fighting retreat on ground that was becoming rough and unsure making tactical movement during swordplay near impossible. The precarious balance of power and control shared with the Sinister Seven, Earthmother clerics, and the Great Wyrm tribe has been upset by something terrible and powerful.

Divine horns blasted in long succession washing fear and certain death over Ferestian’s company; these blasts heralded the arrival of the Old Ones: Uthgar and the Earthmother, Fatherbattle and Mother of the North.

Lord Ferestian felt suddenly alone among his company of Zhents. What this what doom felt like? He called for his closest comrades to organize an escape.

Manual of Undead

Manual of Monsters (Undead)

Aura: minor divination; CL: 3^rd Slot: —; Price: 2,450 gp; Weight: 5 lbs.

Description

A manual of monsters is a heavy, hardbound tome of lore, with a hide cover and many pages of illustrations of horrific undead, along with secret lore about them.

Each manual of monsters gives information on a single undead type (detailed below). If the wielder studies the manual for 15 minutes each day, for 24 hours he gains a +8 bonus to Knowledge checks made to identify creatures of that type and their powers and weaknesses. Each manual of monsters can be used for study only once each day—after that its words and illustrations blur into illegibility until 24 hours have passed.

Construction Requirements: Craft Wondrous Items, augury; Cost: 1,225 gp. (Source Loot4Less 9)

 

The information in these seven tomes were collected by Eva from the secret Sanctuary of the Unknown Necromancer, a dark cleric of Mystra in the dawning years of Waterdeep and his terrible secret obsession with the magic, the dead, and a rising evil cult.

Undead: Lich, Vampire, Spectre, Draco-lich, Mohrg, and two other types as yet undecipherable. 

Spire of Fea the Tor of Flames

Yamon looked towards his young high-born nephew and regarded him with species of pity and bitterness. Although small statured in comparison to other drow males, he was overtly vane and overly reliant on his charm to get what he wanted. He was some kind of sorcerous prodigy in the family; why else would the Matron Coven spare him, bringing him to Skullport?

The warden allowed his perceptions a quick sweep of the dark streets of Waterdeep; the way seemed open but empty human city streets poised a bad omen to Yamon Auvryndar. Communicating with hand gestures to his ward, Yamon saw how the young drow seemed to drink up the city skyline; his communication fell on wandering eyes.

There was little doubt his talented ward used his charms to secure this detail to the surface, the night sky seemed to intoxicate Yamon’s young nephew.

Suddenly the drow sorcerer was spell casting rising suddenly in the air. Yamon pulled Silent Fang as six skeletons charged from nearby city ruins but lost their footing in the wake of the levitating sorcerer. The skeleton’s innards writhed and squirmed as if alive. Dropping an area of darkness between himself and his foes, Yamon preferred blind melee, and waded into the flailing off-balance undead.

Above, the purple-eyed sorcerer hurled viscous orbs on unattended enemies giving his uncle time to destroy near-by skeletons with his magical blade. Getting a quick look for the necromancer or some other undead controller, he spotted a black-robed individual who wore a death-mask over his features. The unsettling figure wore billowing black robes that possessed writhing red runes along the cuffs, collar, and belt.

The drow sorcerer turned his focus on this new individual and let go his most powerful spell….

“Wake up!”

“Huh… What?”

“Your spell surged and ended your levitation.” Yamon explained. “You fell, knocked yourself out. I am charged with your protection and that includes protecting you from yourself.” 

The young drow looked around and explained the death masked one, there was no sign; silence had returned to the night.

Taking extra precaution against further undead and vermin alike the two drow proceeded north to what was called Spire of Fea the Tor of Flames and habitation of human wizards who recently made an amicable offering to House Auvryndar towards a no-hostility pact. This eventually led to a short-term trade agreement with the house supplying the human wizards with rare meta magic components for their alchemy and wizardry.

It took the two drow an hour to reach the Spire at the Tor unseen; arriving that the appointed location, a trio of humans came upon the two drow. Two of them family wizards but the other, the sorcerer wondered, a cleric of a human god!

“I am Yamon Auvryndar and this is my ward…” his words were cut off before he could finish introductions. 

“We know who you are,” said the cleric addressing Yamon’s nephew. “I am Rhodhan priestess of Mystra, and this is Thaddeus and Arctor Eltorchul,” Rhodhan motioned in a grandiose style bowing low to the drow nobles. “The Eltorchul family welcomes the noble house Auvryndar.” She cleric finished.

The young sorcerer herd none of it, he was too enthralled with the symbol of Mystra that hung from the beautiful Rhodhan’s neck. It immediately held purpose for him and inspired a curiosity he never felt before.

Ahghairon The Mage

Ahghairon

Damian's Followers of Storm and Sea

Leadership Score: 20


Cohort Level: 11 Max Level: 14

Number of Followers by Level

1st   2nd 3rd 4th 5th
50        5      3       2      1

Cohort: Lormo is a 6th Level Ranger, 5th Level Rogue

                                               

5th Level Follower: Sanford

4th Level Follower: Claudia Kelton

4th Level Follower: Sakornia Priestess

3rd Level Follower: Fejyelsae

3rd Level Follower: Tanis Stormweather

3rd Level Follower: Tyrus Skullstorn

2nd Level Follower: Gruendar

2nd Level Follower: Ambrose Stormweather

Taking the Fight to Them

“I intend to lead the Firelance Knights into Luskan on Greengrass.” Piergerion said bombastically. “Do not try and talk me out of it my old friend, my heart is certain in this.”

The Lord of Waterdeep was animated in his discourse leading up to this pronouncement. Baerom Thunderstaff weighed the tension in Piergerion’s administrative office and was complacent to remain reserved at the moment.

Piergerion paused at a window facing the harbor, it was early morning and he could see the Dock Ward. He noted the clean-up effort was near at its end; shipping should recommence early this week. Already smoke from the Gond-warships hung heavily in the air like the fog of war, they are always ready for battle.

“Each of our Ironclads is equal to twenty of their pirate ships.” Piergeiron said with no small amount of pride. “We now have enough of then to mount an offensive against the Captain’s Confederation while keeping one vessel behind to defend against a probable Greengrass attack.”

                                                                       

“Actually my Lord, I support your decision.” Baerom said plaintively much to Piergeiron’s surprise. “It is aggressive - a tactic they will not suspect,” he finished.

Piergeiron stopped mid-stride in sincere surprise at his First Knight's assessment to the plan.  

Not wanting to let the Paladinson to sense the real reason behind his acceptance of this, Baeron quickly sifted the conversation to more current and pressing matters.

“The votes have been counted Sai Piergeiron; I have the results.”

21 votes cast (0 missing)

Greengrass Offensive?: Y 21, N 0 (0 missing)

Mandated Draft?:  8

Volunteer Campaign?:  13

“We already have volunteers who have pledged their support Sai, but it will take many more to swell our numbers if we are to win the day in Luskan.” Baerom said as a matter of fact.

“Then begin a list of candidates for a draft old friend, we must work quickly if we are to attack on Greengrass.”

13

I mentioned this a while back, please have a list of named NPC's  for the game including the maximum number of potential followers at 13th level. 

13 stands for change and reflects man's fear 
of the unknown. In Tarot, the 13th card is death. 13 is unlucky though lucky to left-handed people. 13 is the ideal size of a coven. 13 are the number of stars that create the Jester constellation. There are 13 full moons during a year. 

Superstition states that if 13 people meet in palaver 1 will die within a year. If you have 13 letters in your name you are said to have the Devil's Luck. Book of Shadows contains 13 letters.