Author Archives: Dennis

Recovering the Plumes of the Duskmaven

Previously, the heroes had visited and spoken to a lot of people in order to come to terms with the consequences of their defeat of Xarrombus, as well as prepare themselves for the road ahead and potentially deal with the threat that Epidemius posed.

Eighth Day, First Ride, Autumn Twilight, 1262

(Silvermoon is in high sanction, Bloodmoon is waning, Darkmoon is waxing)

It was nearing the evening when the heroes entered Olafur’s chamber, a small room with dark, wooden panelling on the wall, an elaborate rug on the floor, decorated with red and white details. In the back an oddly placed, red, velvet curtain covered parts of the wall as well as a suit of armour that seemed out of place in the room. There was a mahogany desk with a heavy chair with a large back rest. The desk had many small compartments and drawers and the top held many different writing implements.

The grizzled Miðgarðurian asked the heroes to wait as he went to see whether Réonan, the enigmatic grand archmage of the Circle of Mages, would see them. He had made the same inquiry for them in the past, but it never seemed to get easier for him. He returned, but this time the grand archmage was not with him. Instead, he invited the heroes to follow him deeper into the college.

At the end of the lobby stood an arched door that Olafur unlocked with a key from an impressive keychain. The door lead to a circular staircase winding up a tower. Along the wall there were paintings of mage alumni, tapestries depicting scenes of the arcane, and paintings of legendary figures. These figured were marked with unique symbols that some of the heroes recognised as identifying them as Senhadrim arcanists.

The top of the stairs gave way to a jetty corridor with windows overlooking the city. The heroes could not recall ever seeing a tower reaching this high above Ravensbourne, which, coupled with the impossibly long corridor of the student dormitory, told them the Circle was larger than the outside of the building lead to believe.

All along the jetty corridor there were items of interest; a marble statue of a robed person carrying a bird of prey, a suit of armour made for an exceptionally tall person, a regal display of arms, a midnight blue banner displaying an octagram connecting a constellation of eight stars, a large drum made from wood and hide, a large, ironbound chest, an enormous, ceramic pot with a small tree growing from it, and a series of two dozen kite shields with banners of various noble houses.

Olafur lead the hero down the jetty corridor to a doorway leading to the tower’s interior. This revealed an impressive room with more items on display. There was an incomplete skeleton of a large bird, hanging from the ceiling by near invisible wires, an grand triptych with strange, possibly fey iconography, and a pedestal with a large book, covered by a glass dome. These were but a small number of the object d’importance.

Olafur lead the heroes across the room to another arched doorway behind which stood a large statue of a hunting cat with the head of a woman standing in a circular, vaulted alcove. There were no other ways out of that room, and there was nowhere left to go, but Olafur patiently waited for the heroes to step into the circular room with him. He then turned his attention to the statue, addressed it as “Prayanti, Guardian of the Scarab Temple of the Great Sand See of Noth”, and beseeched it to grant access them access. The entire room then turned 180 degrees to reveal another part of the tower through the same entrance they entered the alcove.

The room was circular, with a deep, blue carpet on the ground. The ceiling was high and domed, with a beautiful painted depiction of the night’s sky, complete stars connected in constellations, colourful nebulae and the three moons. Neahman immediately recognised that the depiction of the sky was in accordance to the current location of the moons and stars.

The windows around the outside of the chamber were slender and tall, again showing Kingsport below. At the opposite side of the chamber were a set of steps leading to a raised section of the room lined with pillars behind which was a cordoned off personal library with a lectern carrying an open book facing away from the room. On the right stood a heavy desk, and on the left stood a comfortable looking seating arrangement with padded sofas surrounding a low table. Réonan was seated on one of the sofas, their long hair combed to silver sheen, their slender frame and milky skin covered by a set of flowing silk robes.

The heroes spoke with Réonan about Epidemius, which they suggested had a role in the Battle of Dunagore, a fierce battle between the Silver Crusade and fiendish forces which was often overlooked when compared to the much more significant Battle of Blue Harbour. When the Book of Woe came up, they said; “It’s not a book, it’s a weapon.” Réonan also suggested the heroes could look into using the Newport Vault to store and protect the Tablets of the Elemental Eye they had recovered so far.

Neamhan had kept a low profile during most of the conversation, but eventually Réonan turned their attention to her. With her already legendary directness, she asked how she could prove that her magic did not originate from the gods. After a few questions she revealed that an elder named Oisín had recently awoken from a long slumber and had captivated her tribe. Oisín claimed magic, including Neamhan’s, was granted by the gods, and that the gods deserved their devotion. Neamhan knew in her heart of hearts that this was not true, and felt that Oisín was taking advantage of her tribe. She needed to disprove his claims.

The conversation came to a dissatisfying ending. Emrys had a growing suspicion that while Réonan wanted to provide the answers to the questions the heroes were fielding, that they simply couldn’t, as if afflicted by a kind of amnesia that they were trying to hide from the heroes. The heroes had already stayed past the city’s curfew and had to depart in order to make it back to the Careless Wanderer without harassment from the crownsguard and red custodians.

While the heroes were visiting the Circle of Mages, one of them went his own way and visited the House of the Raven Queen instead. When Quentin arrived he found the holy place empty of visitors. A silent sister, with her face painted white like porcelain, lead Quentin to cardinal Roark when he asked to see the man who had initiated him into the Order of Grave Knights. The cardinal invited Quentin to come and talk with him in his private chamber, which to Quentin looked very similar to father Devon’s chambers; gloomy and spartan.

The two shared some pleasantries; the cardinal explained that some of the important rituals of the Raven Queen were moved to the dawn in order to accommodate the curfew on the city. But soon, Quentin explained that his involvement in the demise of Xarrombus had lead to many deaths throughout the city, for which he felt responsible. In defending the principles of the Raven Queen, by defeating something from beyond the threshold, he had caused so many casualties. Was it an unfair trade?

Cardinal Roark said that despite the outcome, his actions were guided by the Raven Queen with a purpose, which went contrary to his belief that he must be held accountable for his actions. The cardinal invited Quentin to deepen his understanding of the teachings of the Raven Queen. In return, Quentin revealed that he had brought the feathered cloak that he had found in the Newport Vault, to which the cardinal gasped;

“And so it was foretold that the One who would oppose the Necromancer would recover the Plumes of the Duskmaven.”

The cardinal was filled with rapture at the sight of the cloak and being gifted it by Quentin. When the cardinal showed the cloak to the Silent Sisters they all, collectively, started wailing, something they were said to have done at the appearance of Epidemius as well. Quentin left to head back to the Careless Wanderer

Dr. Arkenward’s Ménagerie

Overview

The heroes found their way into Dr. Arkenward’s laboratory where they found a gruesome ménagerie of creatures. Here are the doctor’s notes on them.

Notes

Ludwig

The lowest ranked of the lesser infernal outsiders, though it will claim it still outranks the Lemure. There is quite a bit of writing which has survived the Age of Fear on imps; impervious to fire and all poisons, and incredibly resistant against attacks from non-silver weapons. Like all infernal outsiders, very resistant against cold-based attacks.

Quite a significant number of them survived through the Great Waning as they got stuck on the material plane. Through my interrogations I have concluded that this imp is not old and wise enough to have survived on this side of the seal since the Age of Fear. It is possible that it managed to be sent through the seal due to its limited strength.

It claims its name is “Ludwig”, but that name has not granted me the control over the imp that I had expected and I have therefore concluded that the name is false.

Grok

The dretch is the first form that abyssal animus congeals into, and while it hardly poses more threat to a trained mage than a goblin or a vodnik, leave it for long enough and it will grow to evolve into a far more loathsome and powerful demon as its animus hardens and matures. Immune to poison, able to emit a noxious vapour and very resistant to elemental attacks, and it has a remarkable aptitude for telepathy. Unlike its more evolved brethren, it has a normal susceptibility to attacks with mundane weapons.

I pulled this one from an abandoned house just outside of Blue Harbour. There were several others but this is the only one that managed to survive long enough to heal from the burn wounds it sustained. The others dissolved into black slag. I would have been worried about someone noticing a pack of missing dretches and coming to look for them had they been infernals, but no such loyalty can be expected from the tanar’ri.

Through the “experiments” I conducted on the dretch I have learned that it calls itself “Grok”, it hails from Pazunia, where it was fighting alongside manes and rutterkins for a demon lord named Baltazo. It does not quite understand how it came to be in Blue Harbour, but from the bits I have been able to compile, it seems that Baltazo has been experimenting with sending over low ranking demons and psuedo-demons.

Vetch

Vetch, as the skaven likes to call itself, is a sly one. It speaks the common tongue, albeit in a broken way. Duplicity, stealth and subterfuge seem to be its tools and trade. As a result, I’ve been having a very hard time getting information out of him that I can trust. I will have to independently verify each bit that Vetch shares.

It seems to have no great love for the rat ogre and considers its brutishness antithetical. It claims to be part of clan Eshin, which is a clan I’ve heard of, but not much is written about. I’ve got to be cautious with this one.

Vetch has shown some interest in my dissection of the tentacle-faced mind flayer and it has remarked that certain organs I’ve extracted can be used to create poisonous substances.

Rat Ogre

The skaven refer to this creature as a rat ogre, but it does not seem to have a particularly strong sense of self-awareness, beyond the primal rage what we see in some of the more monstrous humanoids. It does not have an ability to speak and does not seem to recognise words, names or a reference to it species.

My working theory is that the rat ogre is an engineered subspecies of the skaven, so for the purposes of categorisation I will consider it one of the servitor races.

Interestingly, not all of the skaven clans have turned to creating these abominations. There is a clan, clan Moulder, which specialises in creating not just these abominations, but others as well. The rat ogres are, however, the pinnacle of their achievement.

Buras

Smuggled to Kingsport from Farcorner, this khazra warrior is named Buras Blighthorn and he’s been given to me in order to interrogate him. The usual threats did not seem to appear effective, and applying force elicited a resigned response. To my surprise Buras was perfectly capable of speaking the common tongue and has turned out to be a rather pleasant conversationalist, intelligent and eloquent.

He’s explained to me many things, including his mission in Farcorner. I’ve reached a point with him that I think I’ll try a different approach and see if I can simply continue my conversations in order to understand the tensions and conflicts between the servitor races better, since there seems to be some animosity towards Enyalius from Buras and Vetch, and vice versa.

It has confirmed what the Circle already suspected, which is that the khazra hail from the Grey Waste of Hades.

Enyalius

What a strange creature the minotaur turns out to be. I have to be careful not to generalise, but from what I’ve learned by speaking to Enyalius, as it calls itself, is that it is a prideful and stoic creature whose only interest is duty. Not surprisingly, I have learned that its rank is that of “legionnaire”, a type of high ranking infantry and reports to Preclo, his “centurion.”

For all the effort I had to make in order to smuggle Enyalius out of the empire, he’s proven to be a bad source of information. It speaks both the abyssal and infernal tongue, but prefers infernal. This one will require more time.

Rogash

Retrieved from among some of the most northern orc, demon worshipping tribes, we have a strange, transformed orc. Blessed, the shamans would say, with the strength of their demonic overlords. They call them “tanarukks”, which seems to be an abyssal bastardisation of the orc word for “fury.”

It is completely useless to me. I have had to keep it unfed in order to deplete it of its destructive tendencies. I know its highly resistant to fire and poison as well as most magics, but its too aggressive to learn anything from as it has no interest in negotiations.

I have one or two more experiments to run on it, and then Rogash, as it calls itself, is bound for the incinerator.

Autopsy

When it became clear to me that some of the threats moved around the ancient waterways I charged some colleagues to investigate the rumours. They found a fair many problematic elements in those tunnels, none were more baffling than these tentacle-faced humanoids. When I went down myself I was eventually confronted by this one. It was tough; taunting me throughout with telepathy and flaying my mind with strange attacks. The source of its “magic”, if I can call it that, was alien to me.

I have yet to be able to dedicate time to understanding the nature of this creature, and a cursory scan of Tobin’s Planar Guide has yielded little of use, except that it vaguely resembled the aberrant denizens of the far realm. If true, it is completely unclear to me whether there are more of them, what they are doing here, what their designs are, and whether they make the waterways their home.

My investigation must continue and I must come up with a proper defence against their psychic attacks. If this creature is an example of the time to come, then we must expand our arsenal of attacks and defences.

The Princess and the Swans

The story goes that in a land beyond the Cerulean Sea an old, widowed king fell under the spell of a wicked sorceress who convinced him to remarry her. When the new queen was with child, she turned the king’s eleven sons into swans forced them to fly away, securing her child, which she knew to be a boy, to become king. The king was devastated at the disappearance of his sons and poured all of his love and affection on his daughter, Valetta. The queen was furious and tried to bewitch her, but her purity was too strong, so the queen tried to have her killed. The swans rescued Valetta from the attack and flew her away. The old king died from heartache and his land turned to sand. The queen took the throne and ruled over a desert.

The swans flew Valetta across the sea to a green and verdant land of sidhe and fey folk. There she met a sidhe queen with golden hair who told her she could save her brothers. She would have to travel around the lands to gather stinging nettles from around the graves of fallen heroes and knit them into shirts which would allow the swans to regain their human shapes. For the duration of her task, she would have to take a vow of silence; speaking one word would forever condemn her brothers to remain swans.

Valetta began her task and she travelled around finding the graves of heroes and clearing it of nettles, painfully blistering her hands from the stings. Never once did she utter a sound. And dutifully she spent her evenings knitting the gathered nettles into shirts.

One day a young king found Valetta clearing his father’s grave of nettles as he came to pay his respects. He fell in love with her and offered her a room in his castle where she could continue her knitting. Eventually he asked for her hand in marriage and she accepted. The priest who was the perform the ceremony was convinced that Valetta was a witch, but the young king did not believe him.

One night, when Valetta was almost done with the last shirt, she ran out of nettles and was forced to go to a nearby graveyard to collect more. The priest followed her and noticed that the necrophages refused to approach her. He took their fear of her purity as evidence of her guilt and ordered her to be put on trail for witchcraft.

Because Valleta could not speak in her own defence, she was sentenced to death by burning at the stake. While awaiting her punishment she continued to knit the last shirt. She continued knitting even as she was lead away to be executed, determined to continue up to the last moments of her life.

The executioner lit the fire and it began to spread around her. The swans swooped in and tried to lift her from the fire. Desperate, she threw the shirts over the swans. Her brothers returned to her human forms, all except Alban, the youngest, who had a swan’s wing instead of an arm, due to the shirt not having been completed.

Valetta was now able to speak the truth but she choked on the smoke and lost consciousness. Instead, her brothers explained her innocence. As they did so, the fire around the stake extinguished and flowers suddenly bloomed from the charred wood. The king plucked one of the flowers, a lily, and placed it on Valetta’s chest, reviving her.

They were married soon after. Each of the brothers went to found their own families, including young Alban. His swan wing made him feel like he did not belong and he was overcome with melancholy. One day, he was visited by a queen with golden hair, who invited him to come with her to join the sidhe.

Correspondence: First Missive from Epidemius

Overview

Written in the infernal language of Ba’ator, better known as the Nine Hells, this missive was retrieved from one of the skaven priests or shamans in the ancient waterways when they were trying to break out of the carceratum with the rebel lords.

Links

Letter

The plague maidens are congregating, drawn by the pestilent potential of a potent, ancient magic. I have read the signs and portents and require the skavens of clan [unclear] to investigate and reveal the truth. I have gathered enough [unclear] that I may open a gate through the seal for a short time through which they may travel. Once verified, they will report and be given further instruction.

– Epidemius the Cataloguer, Lord of Decay, One of the Seven Proctors of Pestilence. Devoted Underling of Baalzebul the Calabite, Ruler of the Seventh, Lord of Maladomini.

A Day of Visits

Previously, the heroes followed their new friend Neamhan to the Cathedral of the Platinum father where she attempted to understand the nature of her own magic. Quentin received a letter from his lord father explaining more about the Highlord Gaulthier’s intent for his visit to Kingsport. The heroes visited Miranda Ravensbourne at the crownsguard garrison to deliver the bad news of her brother’s death. Neamhan, while using her magic to commune with Kingsport and its environs, made a shocking discovery that Kingsport was under the influence of a great evil, prompting lady Miranda to fly for the palace on the back of her griffon so that she may protect the queen.

Eighth Day, First Ride, Autumn Twilight, 1262

(Silvermoon is in high sanction, Bloodmoon is waning, Darkmoon is waxing)

The heroes were quickly ushered from the crownsguard garrison after the lady commander had taken off for the palace. They noticed that the weather had turned a bit milder and that some of the snow which had blanketed Steward Square was slowly melting. Luca suggested finding James so that they may retrieve Hamish and the night master so their bodies can both be handed over to the Silent Sisters of the Church of the Raven Queen.

A little frustrated, Neamhan asked whether the heroes were just going to ignore the undead and continue their errands. The heroes, in turn, explained that they thought they knew the identity of the undead threat. Neamhan correctly guesses that the undead presence was that of the queen and asks the others what will happen to lady Miranda. According to them, lady Miranda will likely investigate and not find any threat to the queen, which means that Neamhan might take a reputational hit. She finds it very unfair, but realises that she does not have a lot of options but to accept the situation.

The crownsguard and custodians on the square were eyeing the heroes with growing suspicion, so the remainder of the conversation took place on the way to find Goodman, the town crier. In order to get in touch with James, it was decided to go through Goodman, or perhaps get close enough to James to use Lauriel’s Earrings of Whispers from the butcher shop on Fleet Street.

Emrys thought it a good idea to find out more about Epidemius and Luca thought that this task could be deferred to Falka, who had previously offered her assistance. Emrys thought it a good idea to talk to lady Annabella and explained to Neamhan that she was a dear friend who happened to be the handmaid to the queen.

The heroes found Goodman standing on Queensbridge, warming his hands on one of the many cast iron braziers that the crownsguard placed around prominent parts of the city. Relying on his preternatural ability to remain informed, he gave his condolences to Luca for the loss of his friend Hamish. Luca told him that he wanted to get a message to James about the funeral and wondered whether Goodman could reach him. He was willing to convey a message to James, but not without payment. He drove a hard bargain, which rubbed Neamhan the wrong way, but eventually agreed on a price of eight gold crowns.

At that point, the group went into different directions. Emrys decided to climb Garamond hill along Palace Road to see if he could get an audience with lady Annabella. Luca decided to climb the hill on the other side the river, Quayhill, and send a letter from Faster Feather Rookery. In the meantime, Quentin and Neamhan decided to return to the Careless Wanderer to discuss the sword Róisín.

Upon arrival at the top of Garamond hill, Emrys found that the palace had been placed in a lockdown; the gates were barred, and the guards at the top told him to turn back. Pleas for an audience with lieutenant William, the charismatic captain of the palace guard, were denied. When Emrys turned back, one of the guards recognised him and offered to relay a message, out of respect for Emrys’ service to the crown. Emrys asked whether the lieutenant could come and find him at the Careless Wanderer at his earliest convenience. The sorcerer then walked back to the inn.

After an arduous climb of Quayhill, Luca found himself in the courtyard of the modest manse of Fast Feathers Rookery. The tower from which the ravens were sent all over the kingdom (and sometimes beyond) were manned by raven keepers and rookery masters, whistling and clapping at the birds to direct them to come in. Ravens were flying to and from the tower, and were seated around the courtyard freely.

A scribe with hands in ink came to talk to Luca when he entered the building attached to the tower and confirmed that they had plenty of birds that could fly to Bournemouth. It would cost five silver stags, and Luca insisted on writing the letter himself. He wrote it in the abyssal language of demons, trusting Falka to be able to decipher, and in it he asked her to find out what she could about Epidemius and the Liber Bubonicus, the Book of Woe.

Quentin and Neamhan spoke about Róisín when they were in the Careless Wanderer. Quentin explained the nature of the blade, and was hoping that Neamhan, considering her rare gift, would be able to commune with Róisín to find out what her wishes were regarding being returned to House Lys. Neamhan was excited to try, but would need to take some time to prepare a ritual like that. The two agreed that Neamhan would prepare when she could, and make an attempt to commune the following day.

Soon after, all had gathered back at the Careless Wanderer and it was decided to go and visit Dr. Arkenward to see how he was recovering, to check how Vydia was doing and whether she was adversely affected by Xarrombus’ death, and to see whether Arkenward knew anything about Epidemius. And so, the heroes went back out into the cold again.

When the arrived at Arkenward’s manse, they knocked on the side door. Vydia’s friendly halfling servant opened the door and lead them into the scullery where they could take off their cloaks and kick off any snow from their shoes. Vydia came to greet them and invited them into the kitchen. She was a short and slim elf, wearing Lyrian-style clothing, with flowing blonde hair and a sun-touched face. She had a rather prominent black and blood-shot eye with swelling all around. The mark looked like it was older and had been healing for a while.

Luca dispensed with any pleasantries and immediately asked to see Vydia’s husband. Vydia would not let Luca’s brusqueness move her, but only a few soothing words from Quentin and Emrys helped convince Vydia.

Dr. Arkenward was looking a lot better than he did the last time the heroes saw him, but certainly had a long way to go to return to the man the heroes had met in the royal watergardens in the summer. He was able to sit up in a bed a bit, have a conversation, and answer some questions. After the heroes informed Arkenward of the situation in the city and the threat from Epidemius, he said that they would be best served to find out more about the fiend. He found it likely that the fiend was infernal rather than abyssal, something which the title Epidemius carried in the message that Luca had recovered from one of the skaven in the ancient waterways confirmed.

The heroes contemplated confronted Epidemius, and Arkenward claimed that it would simply send Epidemius back to the Ba’ator. Only defeating the devil on its own plane would kill it permanently. Neamhan asked what would happen if the heroes managed to defeat Epidemius while it was bound to this plane, and Arkenward was confident it would still return to Ba’ator.

Luca thought it would be good idea to ward Steward Square at the time of Epidemius’ return, and Arkenward slyly suggested “If only had a disruptor that could collapse a portal.” That drew a sharp look from Vydia.

It was time for the heroes to depart and allow Arkenward the rest he needed. Before leaving, Luca asked whether the heroes could gain access to Arkenward’s laboratory, why he denied; they were, however, welcome to use the library in his study. Also, Emrys said that he would return to speak with Vydia on a private matter, the details of which she seemed to understand.

The next destination was the Temple of Light, which was both a place of worship to Pholtus, as well as a clinic where people could get medical treatment. They were looking for father Devon with the hope of being able to speak to the girl that had witnessed the attack on Steward Square by Epidemius.

Inside the clinic it seemed as busy as it had been during the queen’s illness. They approached a nun who was tending to the patients and she brought them deeper into the hospital, past many beds and patients, until they were asked to wait in a room with benches with even more patients. Behind several doors monks and nuns were tending to patients in peace and privacy.

After several minutes father Devon appeared from behind a door and he said goodbye to his patient. Father Devon lead them into his chamber and the heroes asked after the girl. Father Devon explained that Kasia was a young, Silesian girl who had recently arrived in Lyria as a refugee together with her father who went to work for House Brightmantle as a cattle driver. The clergy at the Temple of Light were establishing contact with the noble house, which had been difficult since the head of the house, lord Jerod Brightmantle, had been killed in the attack.

The attack she lived through, coupled with what must have been a difficult time fleeing her homeland, had left her in a fragile state and the father feared that she would not be able to live through much more. To the father it was too dangerous to question her about Epidemius, unless the heroes were able to guarantee her safety. The heroes had some ideas and said they would return at a later time and bid the father goodbye.

Finally, the heroes wanted to visit the Circle of Magi in order to talk to grand archmage Réonan. Quentin had no interest in talking to Réonan and decided to return to the Careless Wanderer to spend some time with Astrid. The light of the day was fading, and curfew was upon the heroes when they arrived in front of the beautiful herb garden out in front of the main entrance to the Circle of Mages. When they knocked on the door, Olafur the Miðgarðurian quartermaster of the Circle opened up and invited them inside.

The lobby of the Circle, with its polished wooden panelling on the wall and rich, plush carpets on the floor, was warm and pleasant. Olafur mentioned to Emrys that he had recently come across a new batch of obsidian and that he had a few he could sell before the heroes left. When the heroes said they were hoping for an audience with Réonan his face turned grave and he invited them to come into his private chambers to wait. Once the heroes were seated in the small chamber, the bearded man reluctantly stalked off to find the grand archmage.