Durg the Philosopher or Death comes A'knockin'

Shrieking winds, crashing waves and roaring thunder combated with each other for dominance in the ears of the climber. Having tethered his boat to the massive craggy pinnacle, he began the arduous climb to the top.

The winds whipped his tattered cloak. The climb took hours, not just because of the climber's deformities but time and space seemed to warp strangely on this discarded, forgotten pseudo-plane. After years of research and tracking, he had finally found the object he had been searching for.

Reaching the top, he heaved himself over the ledge. Clambering to his feet, he stretched to his full height. Although stooped and with a hunch, he rose to over six and a half feet. With his good right hand he attempted to both keep his hood up and keep it closed. His left arm was withered and held tightly to his side. The creature's left leg was twisted and could not extend fully. From his back sprouted two wings, although the left one was stunted, the membrane torn.

Making his way across the pocked, cracked and creviced summit, he limped towards the only remarkable object that occupied the surface. A four foot high slab of black granite, the top edge bisected by an axe of strange make. The haft, made of a demon's thighbone, was split at the knee joint by a wedge of steel, the split was closed by golden wire. The creature collapsed to his knees in front of the tablet. He wiped his clawed hand across the flat surface, revealing writing carved there in Draconic.

         "A good death is it's own reward"

A chuckling wheeze escaped the hood. "Ah, Durg, sire, ever the poet...".  Using the Draconic pronunciation of his father's name, with a soft "g", he pushed himself to his feet. Grasping the axe in his good hand, and with a tremendous wrench, the half dragon/half demon stepped back. A piercing ring, barely audible yet somehow able to drown out all other sounds, Kurst raised the axe high. He then turned and with a swipe in the middle of the air,  slicing open a rift and stepped through, leaving the grave and failing plane forever.

Tragidore: The Pacts of Men

The largest painting in the Raiserik house was one artist’s expression of the fateful promise a man made to an elven maiden generations ago. The brilliant painting showed a silver dragon battling in the sky against grey shadows; in the background siege engines exchanged artillery with dark giants; and in the foreground, the man and the elven woman. On the left was the man, a blonde war-mage holding the banner of his house, the Resplendent Wyvern. The war-mage was battle worn, bloody but regal and true, and stood leading the war-torn humans behind him. In his other hand, a perfect rose extended lovingly to the elven maiden. She was white-haired, determined, and competent. She too bore battle wounds like crimson streaks that stained her brilliance. The elven maiden carried a curved blade while the other hand was extended to the war-mage; tears swam in her eyes. She also seemed to lead her weeping kin behind her. The painting depicted the origins of the Raiserik house and its moon-elven bloodline.

Holgast Raiserik

The Pact hung in the Raiserik family parlor as well as many as many other relics from the Weeping War; conversational pieces that inspire virtuous tales of times long past. Weapons hung on the walls with names such as Orc-splitter and Goblin-chaser as well as broken staves that serve as memorials to fallen Raiserik spell-casters. The painting was the light to the darkness that lay behind it; known by only a few is a stairway to a workroom worthy of nightmares.

Two months ago...

Offensive odors hung lazily in the dark workroom as Holgast Raiserik stood from the alchemy workstation he called Rosemary leaving behind bubbling flasks of angry liquids and walked to the moaning humanoid creature lying restrained on the table a few feet away. Holgast’s workroom was dimly lit in most places casting long shadows that hid Holgath’s vile experiments, except where Holgast was working however; an ioun stone diligently shed light following Holgast with an eerie intelligence. Shadows stretched out from Juniper, another worktable, where Holgast’s greatest discovery awaits the final hours.

 

Verdana Raiserik

The creature on the table, called the flowerbed, claimed to be Verdana Raiserik, but everyone knew that all the clerics of Mystra died at the beginning of the godsfall and yet here she claims to be. Holgast still fascinated, removed the needle from Verdana’s scaled arm being careful not to cut himself on her sharp spines. Having drawn enough blood he returned to Rosemary. As Holgast added Verdana’s blood together with a green agent the compound it instantly attained the desired result. His eyes blazed with purpose, behind Holgast Verdana shifted weakly in her restraints as if in protest to Holgast’s twisted processes.

Holgast documented Verdana’s change and noted while she may have her soul- her reincarnated physical features were fascinatingly consistent with…

From the darkness emerged Atacan, Holgast’s bold familiar. “Master, it may please you to know you have a visitor.” The pseudo – dragon said flying in landing on Rosemary fluttering its wings proudly.

***********************************************

An hour later Holgast sat in the parlor regarding the caller, outside Holgast could easily hear the High Harvest Tide celebration was in full splendor though the tall open doors. Raiserik tower still held it’s once utilitarian functionality but has been over the centuries remade into its current form. The caller’s name was Handragath an archaeologist and loremaster known for gathering several divine aspects during the godsfall; he was just the man Holgast needed.

 

Handragath

“I want you to lead the excavation team.” Holgast said at length. After speaking for the better part of an hour as Holgast let the anticipation build for the archaeologist. Holgast however was not keen to acknowledge Handragath’s value in this endeavor and wanted him to believe Holgast was entertaining other personages.

Holgast handed a well-worn notebook to Handragath. “What is this?” Handragath asked taking the small tome.

“It is called Lorestealer, crafted by Drendar Wands during the twilight years of the Weeping War.” Holgast said motioning to a marked page that held an illustration of the weapon. “Aside from its untapped potential, it successfully marries divine as well as arcane magic in one weapon of legacy.”

Moander's Darkbringer

Darkbringer

Losifan Urdo

The Darkbringer stared at his agent Losifan Urdo and had him repeat his information but in different order than the little sneak had told him before, cross-checking everything.  There would always be errors which of course terrified minions like Losifan, lies however were tougher to maintain when studied from various angles. 

Satisfied that Losifan was telling the truth about returned noblemen in Tragidore the Anti-paladin Darkbringer formerly known as Tyrinon Cassalanter decided to spare Losifan anymore discomfort, “return to your duties with Tragidore’s mayor and keep me appraised of anything else they have you translate. As for these newly returned noblemen keep a diary of everything you hear about them but do not engage them.  Another bearing Moander’s symbol will come to collect the diary in a few weeks and his arrival is certain to be under the cover of darkness. Hail Moander”

Smendric 2nd orgin Final

Smendric exited the mansion after the Eonian left the party. Her final announcement stated everyone would be delivered back to the city in the morning when they left the hall. But Smendric had no intentions of returning to the city. He desired a more intimate meeting and that wasn’t going to happen unless he forced her hand. The door they used to enter the hall had been removed, probably as a precaution so the guest wouldn’t slip out during the night. Recalling the view from outside the mansion Smendric found himself standing alone on the mountain side. The trail continued up another 50’ over a ridge. He could see a light from atop the mountain but he could not see the source. He paused a moment to cast a few protective spells before continuing his climb to the summit.

A large manor house enveloped by a shimmering wall of multicolored lights topped the mountains peak. While he was not familiar with this particular style of architecture the prismatic spell that protected the house was well known to him. Moving as close to the field as he dared he called out in hopes that someone would hear him. After a few tense moments the door swung open and the Eonian stepped out.

“You need to return to the party she said, I am sure you can get back the same way you managed to leave”.

“But I have come a long way to meet you Smendric said trying to be as charming as possible. I also didn’t feel like I would get your full attention at the party. Maybe we could go inside, I think we have much to discuss”.

“I am sorry this barrier keeps everyone out she said, and outsiders are not allowed”.

Smendric grinned “And if I manage to get passed the field what then”?

“Then you will have to deal with me came a second voice stepping out of the door way. And I am afraid I am not as polite as my sister”.

“Twins Smendric exclaimed! With the exception of hair length & wardrobe they were identical. The second sister certainly had a different presence then the first. Not only did she have a half dozen protective wards active. But she was armed with a staff that looked to contain considerable power. I am not here to threaten he said showing his empty hands; I only want to offer my assistance & perhaps share knowledge. Your plan for the valley is pretty complex. If today is any indication of your progress it will take another 30 years to finish. Maybe I could help shave a couple decades off that timeline?

The arcane sister motioned her sibling inside as she approached the barrier. “Ok consider this a test if you can get through we can talk”.

Smendric bowed deeply; with a complex series of gestures he cast a spell that allowed him to manipulate the flow of time. Pulling a scroll from his pouch he quickly fired off a series of spells each removing a level of the barrier until it was completely banished from existence. He then completed his challenge by producing a campfire complete with roasting mutton and a couple of high back chairs which he quickly placed the lady Eonian in. After taking his seat he allowed his spell to expire and time to continue unhindered. “I am known as The Traveler, but I would much prefer an informal meeting so you may call me Semendric.”

The Eonian was able to recognize the spell being cast by the intruder, though its speed caught her by surprise. She had never seen a spell cast in this way before, some of the necessary gestures were combined with others while some of the somatics were not even fully completed. With so many shortcuts and omissions she was astonished the spell even functioned at all. Suddenly in an instant she found herself sitting in front of a warming campfire as she held a mug containing a sweet smelling warm liquid. Taking a moment to collect herself she noticed the absence of the protective sphere, but none of her possessions had been tampered with. Her staff rest gently against the surprisingly comfortable high back chair she found herself in. “You may call me Sera she said extending a hand.”

As the hours flew by Smendric began to feel somewhat smitten. Though he had just met her she seemed familiar. “So how does this work he asked her, you and your sister disguise yourselves and influence the city as citizens?”

“No she said smiling we have never been to the city. In fact you are the first person I have ever met besides my family.”

“Does your entire family live here? Smendric asked, I swear the captain of the Lacuna was your mother.”

“No once a replacement has been trained we learn to fill a role in the city. The Captain is unique as she is raised with no future commitment, mainly due to a high fatality rate. With pirate raids and all manner of creatures that inhabit the seas one can’t expect the captain to survive to a venerable age, not that it’s never happened but it’s never a certainty.    

        

 Smendric sat by the fire trying to make sense of the statement Sera had just made. As the door opened as an elderly Sera stepped onto the stoop “Well you might as well let him in” she said shaking her head. I can see by his expression the poor boy will sit there the rest of the night working this out.”

Smendric stood running his fingers through his tangled hair.  “Clones” he asked?”

“Not exactly, replied the elderly Sera as she motioned Smendric inside. We are not restricted in creating an exact duplicate as is a clone. For example Leasa here as she motioned toward yet another replica of herself is Druidic.  She tends the forest and the fields below to make sure everything grows as planned. And this little one” she said rubbing the head of the youngest version Smendric had seen “will one day be the captain of the Lacuna. She already has the skills & knowledge necessary she just needs to come of age.

For the first time in his life Smendric was speechless, briefly. “Why?” He asked as the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place.

“We are trying to save our parents” young Sera chimed in. They are imprisoned and we cannot divine there exact location. However we have been able to locate the plane they are being held on. When our circle is complete we will be able to summon forth a section of that plane and everything that inhabits it including our parents. We hope to have a more precise description of their location by the time the circle is finished.

“If you know the plane they are being held on why don’t you just go get them? Smendric asked.

“It’s a negative energy dominate plane, & our magic has proven unreliable there. On occasion we have tried to search for them but usually the scout does not return. When they do the negative energy drains them to a point near death.”

“What if I could bring your parents’ home?” Smendric cracked his famous wry smile as he looked to the elderly Sera.

“We would give anything we have” she said as her eyes began to well.

Smendric looked around at the dozen incarnations that had collected to see the first stranger to enter their home in over five centuries. “I can think of a couple things.”  

Tragidore Review 03/04/15 Session 2

Standing in the dark after our victory in the grove we decided to push on, fearing for the well being of those missing.  To the west we could hear strange bagpipes and hounds against a distant backdrop of fire.  To the north we find monstrous humanoid tracks of an unknown origin.  As late as it was, bagpipes, hounds, and fire sounded much better than an unknown monster so we headed west almost immediately walking into the web trap of two giant spiders.  Our numbers and abilities quickly proved too much for the spiders whose traps are set for much less prepared prey. Zadrian attempts to be more careful, moving more slowly and watching for webs.  A strange sound is heard, some of us think it is laughter while others think it is crying.  Following the sounds we find two unique creatures, obviously not of Toril, one laughing and one crying, both quite evil.  

The gray-skinned creature possesses thin legs ending in black cloven hooves, as well as a ferocious, manic grin with a misshapen tail, while a patchwork sheet of dirty ice covered their bodies. They were hidden in a grouping of fallen trees from which we could occasionally hear voices calling out and asking if anyone was there.  Before we could attack the creatures properly the laugher disappeared while the cryer magically appeared in the tree above Cadthronn, its acidic tears sizzle violently as they fall upon Cadthronn and the ground.  The battle proves difficult until we realize the two monsters are summoned creatures and Protection from Evil spells protects us.  We dispatch the summoned creatures but the sounds of the wood grow hypnotic and we ask Arne to track by sound the laughter and tears.  It took an hour of wandering in the dark before we could shake off the charm of sounds and realize we were lost in the forest.  We began to make our way back discovering that we had been searching in circles to the delight of two similar creatures.  Battle ensued only this time we discover that these two are not summoned but lair nearby.  After a long dangerous battle Wendell realizes we have defeated two Lacridaemon, creatures whose exist only to enjoy the suffering of those poor souls lost to neglect and exposure. Upon the Lacridaemon’s defeat the sounds of the wood returned to normal and we could more clearly hear the pained cries of two voices echoing out from a large hollowed out tree.  

Looking inside we find two half-elves thoroughly entangled in roots and branches, hanging upside down.  The roots had them gripped in such a way that should they shake themselves loose they would snap their own necks. After freeing them introductions are made and we realize we have found the missing Knights of Myth Drannor, two half -elf rangers named Delia Navamir and Themian Ailudin.  Searching the area we find the Lacridaemon’s lair and several treasures there: 120gp, (2) +1 Composite Shortbows (+2 Strength), 2 potions cure moderate wounds, Knife of Sacramental Flesh , Rat tread Boots, Mantle of Rage, and Amulet of Deception.  Deciding we need rest we return to the ruins of the abandoned elven settlement where we rest and find a care package of herbs with instructions on their proper use left to us by our new centaur friend Brother Zaganos.  We now realize the good brother has not only Bard talents but Druid ones as well.  After a dream filled fitful sleep we return to Tragidore where the Feast of the Moon is preparing to get into full swing.

We stop by the Trinity Church to reunite Yontryl Amatar with her  missing lost friends Delia and Themian. While at the church we meet Anna Braxton an Acolyte of Velsharoon who is caring for 5 books on the Velsharoon altar, Book of Planar Writings # 37, Key of Irithlium #78, Shield of Vladik #50, Liber Praevalida #87, Tome of Amulets #75, as well as a weapon, a large sized flail named fiend slayer which we believe is a weapon of legacy.  

We pass the Gentleman’s Mage wanting a quick look at this place up for auction.  To our shock and surprise two ghostly images appear of the father and son Mann, their haunt causing one of our party to attack the other before shaking off the charm and gathering their senses.  Zadrian decides after this occurance to check around behind the Gentleman’s mage only to discover the beautiful Noblewoman Aurora Tenloss looking through the windows in back.  Introductions are made and we discover that many of the townsfolk are aware of the haunt, something that has occurred since Riger Mann killed his own father Tolgar.  Zadrian wondered at the idea of a haunt occurring when the son was still alive and sitting in Swift Prison.  It concerned Zadrian that everyone seemed so nonchalant regarding a haunt in their city and no one had bothered to look into whether the son had been under a magical influence when he killed his old Mann.  Aurora gave us her invitation to the grand opening of her Consortium, a shop that Yontryl expressed grave concerns over fearing it was one of many places to traffic in the trade of recovered treasures of Myth Drannor.  

Leaving the back of the Gentleman’s Mage it is agreed that we would head to the Temple of the Gauntleted Fist to return to the worshippers of Torm & Shaundakul some of the lost items recovered from the Hanging Man in Gallows Grove.  Along the way we run into a sister and brother that appear to be fighting over an unnamed woman.  We are taken aback at the ferocity of their anger and interject ourselves fearing they suffer from a similar haunt like what we encountered at the Gentleman’s Mage.  We meet the sister Regine and brother Cris Rolst and despite our initial efforts we are unable to break their anger until Zadrian suggest that he heard the local constable speaking in loving terms of the unnamed woman as well.  When the two break apart Zadrian follows Regine until she enters The Sword Point Inn where he breaks off and heads for The Temple of the Gauntleted Fist.  

The party is introduced to Sir Delmar Truesword.  He is thrilled to have the chest and items returned to the church explaining that the items were thought lost forever after being stolen during The Time of Troubles by three heretics.  After we explain where the items were recovered Sir Delmar indicates that the hanging man is one of the three heretics and warns us that the other two must remain out there somewhere. When we bring up the haunt that we experienced at the Gentleman’s mage Sir Delmar writes off that side of town as being haunted since The Time of Troubles.  Sir Delmar thanked you and explained that during the godsfall three clerics turned heretics and ventured out taking with them the chest and cups. You have seemed to have encountered one of them. He gives you an arcane spellbook that came into their possession, it seemed appropriate that your group should have it as a reward.

Returning to Trinity church you find the temple clerics at rest while, Gideon and Anna Pimm are awake; Gideon writing at his podium (gives a scroll to Alan) and Anna teaching Ariel meditation techniques.  Also in attendance are the Knights united once more. Zadrian and Anna Pimm share a moment in concern for the little girl as the others check back with Yontryl we find her and her two newly recovered friends believe the unknown tower on the book is in fact the Irithlium. They mark the dangers of the Key of Irithlium for they believe the local Cult of the Dragon in service to Dragon DagaRonzie seeks the secrets in the tower.  Yontryl suggests finding a designee as a tome-bearer. Wendell requests that we no longer even say the name of the cult as it has an adverse effect on him. Suggestions are made but decisions are tabled for later and our party decides to walk the town on this day of the Feast.  We pick up next week leaving the temple and heading back into Tragidore to experience more of the Feast of the Moon

For the Realms, Sabine Lefleur

To the highest clergy of Trinity Church

It is with a concerned hand that I am tasked with informing you of a disturbing plot involving the Iron Clergy in your region. We have been following the movements and activates of a group called The Strangers for some time; these specialist spies and assassins use magic to move unseen and unknown to infiltrate organizations to their will.

Our most recent information indicates their leader was hoarding information on the Irithlium in Myth Drannor. Please be ever vigilant of the movements of these members of the Iron Clergy.

For the Realms,

Sabine Lefleur

(this message was found on an eagle, killed by an arrow with green gossamer fletching)

Crimes Against Humanity

                                                       “She was ritualistically beaten”

Ariel Manx

The words just hung there as images of my mother and a lost year of time ran through my mind’s eye.  The home I had sacrificed so much for now rippled with haunts and half-hearted efforts to hold back the tide of evil by those that lived there every day.

“She was ritualistically beaten”

I woke up, eyes wide in stark terror, my last memories a failed attempt at saving her.  As I sat there in the dark I realized that I was as haunted as my city was. I had sacrificed a year and Talona had won while the locals claimed that Mystra was lost to us.  That little girl represented a lot to me but more importantly I now realized that those sick torturers that did such a thing to a child probably had more victims, other children not yet saved or under Verith’s protection. My only suspects were the faithful of Talona, a group called The Strangers, as well as the Iron Clergy the last two of which I only knew of because they were mentioned in a recently discovered message from Sabine Lafleur.  My suspects were wonderfully named but woefully unknown, I knew of no location to begin my search and my anger at their crimes was simmering.

“She was ritualistically beaten”

Anna Pimm

I had given Verith 30 gold towards the young girl’s upbringing and had spoken with Anna Pimm who was kindly teaching her to meditate.  Anna explained that the girl had some unique arcane talent and my heart immediately sank.  The enemy was hunting and they knew what to look for.  I feared that the talent she had is what made her a target.  I did not care that the locals claimed Mystra was gone, I prayed to my goddess.  

Tragidore: A Time of Trials

Mayor Jonark Uptal looked up from writing his speech in his office and looked to the tarnished silver lantern that hung unlit in the town proper. He choose his words carefully in his speech, words that would cast forth adventurers tasked with carrying the ancient lantern and returning with the Everflame. The lantern was symbolic of course- Hell, the whole Quest for the Everflame was just another local custom to keep the wolves at bay and the nightmares away. It did nothing for his own nightmares.

The hour was early but that did not stop dalesfolk from celebration, it was the Feast of the Moon and while each family had their own traditions, Tragidore had been without the renewal of the Everflame and the anticipation was great indeed. Outside the office the Temple bells tolled the morning hour, one more closer Jonark thought. One more hour closer and I can be on the road and out of Tragidore and back to Mistledale.

Jonark’s thoughts drifted to the Woman who visited him earlier that night. She was like an angel; he could still smell her scent and taste her kiss. A shiver ran down his flesh. It was unlike Jonark to reminisce about a woman, not since before he married his wife, but she was dead now. 

There were two other occupants in the room at this morning hour, which bespoke the Mayor’s reluctance to tarry in Tragidore for very long. Besides Jonark preferred to keep these two nearby whenever possible during his short visits into town; until that is a third individual walked in.

Jonark heard the door open and turned to look, outside the office the haunt of his late wife still hung from the rope as the caller strode in. Behind the caller Jonark's dead wife pointed an accusing finger at Jonark just as the door closed allowing him to breathe a bit easier.

“Salutations my Lord-Mayor, Officer Taber, Rubi..." the look of contempt on the caller's face was mild but there just the same.

"My sources tell me the Harpers have arrived.” said Elad Edals in his Waterhavian brogue. Elad could imitate many Realms dialect but during official visits to the Mayor he liked to speak Waterhavian. It reminded him of home when he was not on the run. 

Elad stepped into the Mayor’s office unbidden; he was dressed in brown leather breeches, a vest, and a fur-lined red coat. He wore a monical this morning Jonark noted, and rings on each hand.

Carin Taber

Across the traditionally furnished office Carin Taber stood near a large window looking out at the same tarnished lantern, morning sunlight cascaded a dim veil of golden light over her strong female form. She looked like a statue of a goddess. Elad’s entrance brought her from her thoughts; flash-backs from her own nightmares as of late. Standing immediately on the alert, she recognized the man and sheathed her sword. Secretly Carin admired the Waterhavian, mainly for his brazen tactics for rising to such great influence in such a short amount of time. The only thing that unnerved her was why here and why Tragidore?

Opposite Carin sitting alone in a shaft of darkness upon his usual chair was the halfling Rubicund, the Master of Coin. Rubi openly hated Elad Edals for the same reason Carin accepted him; the man was a scoundrel and westerner. Rubi was convinced Elad is somehow plotting to kill him. A small white mouse scurried briefly across the floor making its way to the open door, it did not make it past Rubi before the spiteful halfling stomped it flat. He hoped the fortuitous gesture made is point to the Waterhavian- do not cross me.

Rubi

Carin and halfling could not be more different from each other which are why Jonark employed them, Elad however; Elad is a necessary evil in order to get himself re-elected and therefore another term as Mistledale Councilman.

"My sources tell me there are investigating misappropriations of the municipal treasury." 

Jonark considered. If Elad was right then Jonark's aspirations on another term are in serious jeopardy.

“My apologies, my friends, but I thought you should know.” Elad said with as much sincerity as he could muster.

“And there’s something else Lord-Mayor, bands of harriers are converging on the dales looting churches and raiding, they have a leader…”

“You will forgive me Mister Edals that I may focus on problems that I can address.” Jonark Uptal responded curtly. This new news somehow frightened Jonark. He would not return to life as it was before, Jonark thought. He could reach out to the Vistani if he had to, but if that was to be the case then the threat to the dale is certain.

Tragidore Review 02/25/15 Session 1

Drifting as if in a dream our party follows the Oracle Verith Raiserik into the Trinity Church whereupon entry the five of us are jolted back to a reality we are all unfamiliar with.  A dozen to fifteen worshipers filled the pews while Verith herself was inexplicably across the church in deep conversation with an obviously wounded young girl. The Priest of Azuth, Rantal Gundwynd approached us from Azuth altar, appearing quite surprised to see us.  In fact the entire congregation had stopped their prayers to stare at us, causing us to feel woefully under dressed.  For the first time we began to notice our surroundings surprised to discover that everyone was clothed for winter while we still wore our mid-summer clothes.  The midnight sky hid the season from our view through the church windows but clearly we had been gone far longer than our memories allowed.  Zadrian Vistani asked Rantal directly for the date and was shocked to discover that it was The Feast of the Moon.  Stunned by our year long loss of time our party took a moment to gather themselves.  Many of those in attendance were bemoaning their fates since the apocalyptic events during the Time of Troubles. Taking in the church the party was surprised to see a book, The Book of Thorns (Book 7, 101 Spells books of knowledge & Grimoires), hanging from chains above the third altar of the Velsharoon faith. At this point Rantal stepped forward to grasp The Nether Scrolls that were inexplicably in Wendell Rasierik’s hands.   Rantal moved to the Azuth Altar and after placing the scrolls upon it, announced the Altar was now complete.  Zadrian’s attention is drawn to a memorial to his mother, one of many victims to fall to the poisons of Talona that were released during the godswar when Eldath was killed by the dark goddess.  Apparently several magic dead areas  exist above the bridges where the gods fought. While Rantal Gundwynd discussed the unknown fates of the rest of the Vistani family and consoled Zadrian, Alan Kordova inquired about the missing Velsharoon priest Nhar-del.  According to the other priests, Nhar-del was spending his time in Swift Prison after utilizing his necromantic magic to raise dead warriors to fight against the Tragidore's enemies.  The mayor did not stand behind Nhar-del when it was learned that he violated the local graveyard with his vile magicks. Alan Kordova wasn't pleased with the politics of that situation, as it seemed to him that the foreign mercenaries were supported more than a local priest. 

(Re) Incarnates

Two others were present at the Trinity Church, their race unknown until it was explained that they are the reincarnated faithful of Mystra who were restored when a seventh discipline of magic was recovered.  This magic referred to as Incarnum, allowed those souls thought lost to return as a new race. A blue quilled woman named Anna Pimm who wore a green flame tabard and a slightly blue tinted, white scaled man identified as Gideon Risarek were present, their only interactions being either with the Oracle or the Kordova siblings who Anna Pimm seemed to be assisting. Rantall explained that this newly returned magic is what allowed the Trinty priests to place Wild Talents on us, allowing us to survive and succeed even if we had lost time.

Cadthronn Rasierik also had a message in his possession that was gathered by the Oracle and cleric of Azuth. It was a message from Sabine Lafleur warning of a group called the Strangers and The Iron Clergy active in the region.  Citizens and visitors who had come to Trinity Church to bring attention to their plights erupted from the pews fearing that our attention would be drawn away from their problems  and demanded to be heard.  The first to speak up was Peitra Damaken, a Waterhavian, she was attacked by an outsider with tentacles that had "quite a horde" and had added Peitra’s cloak to its collection. Yontryl Amatar, a tattooed elvan woman, obviously unimpressed with the loss of a

Yontryl Amatar

magical cloak interrupted to tell us she had lost contact with two Knights of Myth Drannor that had been missing for two weeks somewhere between here and Myth Drannor.  Zadrian pointed out to the two women that their own unique problems might be connected while assuring them that this group that had recovered the Nether Scrolls would be seeking justice for the wrongs at play in their homeland, working to return both the knights and cloak to their proper place. Others then began to bring up some of the problems that plague the region since Nhar-del’s necromancies were utilized indicating that many undead thought to have lived during the time of the Weeping War roamed Gallows Grove.  Arne and Alan Kordova grew tired of useless words and went outside to speak with their siblings where they learned that the Kordova’s along with Carson Resarik would be undertaking a Quest of the Everflame.  The brothers took pride in their younger sibling’s bravery. 

As the problems of Tragidore piled up the newly returned party grew anxious to take action, departing Trinity Church and stepping into the night to begin their journey to Gallows Grove.  Along the way, a mile or so southwest of the grove, a campsite was found and after it was determined not to be a trap (could it be the cheese and we the mice?) the campsite and abandoned village was thoroughly searched.  A Masterwork Short bow, a quiver with 7 Masterwork Arrows and 4 Magical Arrows identified as  +1 Magical Beast Bane Arrows were recovered.  As this was accomplished The Tragidore Five were hailed by a Centaur wearing a kilt who identified himself as Brother Zaganos.  The four legged brother was searching for his Druid, The Lady Lorraine Treesong.  She was described as were wood druid and had disappeared right around the time the gold-elves left this village, which was also connected to the battle of Talona and Eldath.  Assuring the centaur that we would keep our eyes open we informed him of our intent to cleanse Gallows Grove of the undead that wandered there.  

After leaving the centaur the Tragidore Five approached the grove, preparing potions and spells only to be surprised by a leaning deadfall dweller that spit acid at Cadthronn Rasierik.  The acid that spit from the camouflaged walking log solidified like amber.  After defeating the strange creature a brain, heart, and stomach were recovered, the magical beasts organs supplying valuable meta-magic components.  Soon after that battle the party came across a tree with a corpse hanging from its branches.  It was at this location that several undead abandoned ones struck.  After a very difficult battle which included an incorporeal creature we later learned was connected to the hanging corpse and a hostile tree the Tragidore Five were victorious!

Tragidore: Gallow's Grove and the Abandoned Ones

325 gp 5 pp

(5) 100 gp gems

Masterwork leather armor

Masterwork morning star

Potion of remove fear

Arcane scroll of web

Divine scroll of cause fear, Divine scroll of murderous command

Brute Gauntlets, Brooch of Stability, and a Ring of Brief Blessing. 

In a masterwork ceremonial velvet lined box, with obvious symbols from the Temple of the Gauntleted Fist and runes for four holy sacraments. Inside the box are 4 objects: a bronze “swords” flagon (50 gp), electrum “knight” cup (75 gp), polished duskwood “squire” flagon (50 gp), and a silver “priest” chalice with the symbol of Torm (250 gp, also functions as a cleric’s holy symbol).

(3) Masterwork battle axes

(3) Masterwork half-plate and masterwork light steel shields (dating back to the Weeping War)

Arcane Scroll of Minor Image

Divine Scroll of Cause fear, Divine Scroll of Delay Poison, Divine Scroll of Light

Wand of Cure Light Wounds (CL1- 30 ch); Wand of Entropic Shield (CL3- 23 ch); Wand of Magic Missile (CL5- 18 ch); Wand of Acid Splash (CL1- 40 ch)

• Deadfall Dweller brain (magical beast); 5 HD; abjuration school; Spellcraft DC 10 + SL: Spell Focus (Abjuration) 
• Deadfall Dweller heart (magical beast); 5 HD; evocation school; Spellcraft DC 10 + SL: Spell Focus (Evocation) 
• Deadfall Dweller stomach (magical beast); 5 HD; transmutation school; Spellcraft DC 10 + SL: Spell Focus (Transmutation) 
• (3) Undead bones (undead); 5 HD; necromancy school; Spellcraft DC 15 + SL; Spell Focus (necromancy); 10 gp. 
• (3) Doom weed (organic); - HD; necromancy school; Spellcraft DC 15 + SL; Empower Spell (inflict spells); 25 gp.  

Lacridaemons

(2) + 1 composite shortbow (+2 Str) 2d20# arrows

(2) Potions of cure moderate wounds

Knifeof Sacramental Flesh

Rat-tread Boots

Mantle of Rage

Amulet of Deception