Posted by Jasper

As the final embers went out at the Midnight Salute, Xan stood on the sidelines watching… well, everything. He watched the crowds of people gawking at the spectacle. He watched the men and women who actually came to help out of a rare sense of goodwill. He watched anyone and everyone acting the slightest bit suspicious. He watched Liberty and Mom, hovering over Constance’s body in shock. Drake had disappeared. Xan could only imagine that he was off to drink himself to death…or kill someone else.

Xan hated times like this… Times of tragedy. These times made it very clear that Xan was an outsider. Sure, everyone knew Xan and almost all liked him. Xan was great at making a good first impression. But those were just acquaintances. Those who got close enough to really know him also saw the manipulator that he was. When it came to business, Xan was cold and calculating. These skills had been a great help in recent days with his new companions, but at this moment he was feeling the price. His friends were hurting right now, Drake and Liberty especially. He wanted to be there for them as a shoulder to lean on… but they didn’t want that from him. That made him feel a sadness that he hadn’t felt since the night he lost his family.

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Posted by GnomeSplosion

Fire, everywhere fire. A burning face, screaming in agony as the boy walked away scared yet confident in what he had done. A man, pained face lit by torchlight, begs the youth to care for his children as he is crushed, his pain highlighted by the flickering firelight. Hearth fire accenting the family who lost their livelihood as the young man explains to them that he had done all he could. An empty room, the Midnight Salute, set ablaze, the only lover Drake had sought, gone. Cornelius’s brain tried to put the pieces together, the body on the ground outside, the empty room set ablaze, the whole building burning to ashes, but it was too much. When Sam and the other rescuers had found him, he was seated in his usual chair, smoke curling from his scalp and arms as the hair curled and flaked away from the intense heat, his skin blistering and peeling.

A hand reached out and shook him, “Cornelius, c’mon up to my room hon, you could use the company tonight.” Cornelius grumbled, Constance stood there, warm and glowing with beauty. “Cornelius… Cornelius… Cornelius, lets go.” Her hand took his and with strength he never knew she had, she pulled him off his chair and began to lead him outside. “Cornelius… Cornelius… Drake…”

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Posted by Darth Krzysztof

26 Planting, 595 CY

Liberty was finally starting to relax when one of the Midnight Salute’s second story windows exploded in a ball of fire. She knew at once what had happened, knew whose burning body had fallen into the Vein. She knew that nobody could have survived.

But she ran to her sister’s side all the same.

Liberty pulled her magical cloak from her shoulders and threw it over Constance’s smoldering body to extinguish the flames – and to give her sister the smallest measure of dignity. Maybe the fire could break the cloak’s enchantment; she was beyond caring.

Constance’s upraised hand twitched once, and Liberty grabbed it with both of hers. Someone, probably Mom, tried to save her with a spell, but to no avail. It’s too late, Liberty thought. She’s dead. Your sister’s dead, Libby, because you weren’t here for her.

“I’m here now,” she half-said, fighting back tears. “I’m here, Connie.”

Something in Constance’s hand glittered in the firelight – the necklace Liberty had bought for her in the Free City curio shop. The residual glow of a rune of power shone briefly in the necklace’s stone before fading from sight completely – explosive runes, or more properly, a powerful modification of that spell. Such magic was beyond Liberty’s powers. Filge’s, too, if his spellbook was any indication. Unless Khellek was back in town, she knew of no one in Diamond Lake who could have done this. Allustan had the skill, of course, but he was no murderer.

Murder. My sister was murdered.

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The adventurers made their way back through the grimlock caverns and into the Dark Cathedral. To the south, the oily black pool roiled violently. Drake gritted his teeth at the sight. “Well… That’s ominous.”

“It wasn’t doing that before, right?” Liberty asked.

Sam snorted. “No, ma’am.”

Xan began to creep toward the pool, while the others drank potions and cast preparatory spells. Then, the middle of the pool rose up abruptly, looking like nothing so much as a massive black ooze. The mound of sludge began to lurch forward, sending the rogue scurrying back toward the others. Drake, however, rushed toward the ramp leading to the platforms surrounding the pool, growing in size as he downed an enlarge person infusion. As the large form drew near the shore, the sable water began to run off slowly, revealing an unnatural figure beneath.

The creature was a bizarre amalgamation of the three deities it was meant to embody. It was a ten-foot tall, powerfully built monster with six arms, smooth, dull gray skin and bulging muscles that pulsed with arcane power. Three of its arms, two on its left and one on its right, were missing their hands. It had a gaunt, skeletal face and, as the oil finally cleared its horrible mouth, massive fangs. It roared, sending bubbles of pitch spittle splattering across the floor. Mom grunted in alarm.

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Drake coughed up blood. “Ugh… Could really use some assistance,” he said from the rock pile.

“Coming,” said Mom. He moved over to the alchemist and began prodding him with the healing wand.

“Thanks,” the big man rumbled. “Don’t think I’ve ever needed this much rescuin’ before.”

Sam grunted as she sheathed her bloodless greatsword. Seeing the rogue slumped against the wall, bleeding from pretty much every limb, she called down to the cleric. “Xan’s gonna need you to poke him some, too.” After a beat she added, “You can even pick your favorite hole.”

“Remind me to have a witty response to that when I’m not about to pass out,” said Xan. Sam nodded at him sympathetically. Liberty shook her head and laughed.

“Hey!” Mom complained about the innuendo. “If I could climb, I’d be right there.”

Sam fished around in her backpack for a rope. She tossed one end down to Mom, then tied the other end off to the bridge. “Getcher green ass up here,” she said pleasantly.

“It’s grey-green. And I’m on my way.”

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The adventurers checked the rest of the Vecnan part of the complex to make sure it was clear of further threats then stopped to recover from their assault on the labyrinth. Liberty found a number of apocryphal writings apparently penned by the Faceless One, or whatever the melted form on the floor of the laboratory had been. She requested some time to examine them, and the others obliged, content to heal and rest up before taking the attack to the third and final section of the compound.

I came to life today, in this dark place. Then, the Master’s Voice taught me my place in this world, and spoke of my role in the accomplishment of the Ninth Prophecy. He told me I have to forget the surface world, the trees and the sunlight, that these dreamlike memories weren’t mine but would stay with me, and that he had taken away from me the face that wasn’t mine too. Toiling on the Master’s Great Work makes me happy. I hope to prove him my devotion by succeeding where the Ebon Triad project failed.

~ ~ ~

The preparatory rituals are done. The womb left uncompleted by Vecna, then a simple lich, already wears his imprint. We only need to melt in the two other divine essences needed.

~ ~ ~

The Hextorites came, trickling down by small groups from the mine. They seemed pleased by the rooms prepared for them, and began at once the consecration of their temple. In accordance with the Master’s plans, they mistook me for a servitor of the Maimed God and don’t suspect my true allegiances.

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The adventurers looted the kenku corpses and then regrouped in the chamber west of the entry hall. Healing magic was applied for those in need, and once everyone had caught their breath Mom asked, “What next?”

“Everyone takes a light and we keep going,” said Xan. They each took a sunrod taken from the bodies, ignited it and began following the rogue as he stalked through the twisting paths of the stony maze.

They came under attack by a pair of dire weasels in the northern part of the labyrinth. Sam and Xan slaughtered the first, and though one got a grip on Mom, Drake kicked it off of him, crushing the beast’s skull and splattering it against the wall behind Sam. “Huh,” the alchemist commented. “Didn’t think it would get so much…distance.”

Sam looked over her shoulder and her eyes followed the weasel as it slid down the wall. “Squishy.”

“Thanks, Drake,” said Mom, looking disturbed.

Liberty covered a smile. “You all right there, Mom?”

“Gah!” he exclaimed. “I’ll laugh later, but for now, GAH!”

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Drake cracked his knuckles and looked at the corpses. “Well, these guys looked scarier than they were,” he grumbled. Mom grunted in agreement and proceeded to use the wand purchased in the Free City to begin healing those who had been injured in the fighting.

“Truly,” said Xan. “Though I can only imagine it gets worse from here, so don’t get cocky.”

Light from a pair of torches cast strange shadows across the blood-red walls of the dead priests’ chamber. Two wooden chairs were set opposite each other at the round table in the corner. Upon the table rested a thick, leather-bound book, a rusty dagger, a quill, inkpot, and several sheets of parchment. A wooden screen blocked off half the room near a large bed covered in blankets and furs.

Xan spearheaded the looting, stripping the bodies of all valuables, and searching the chambers through which the combat had spanned. The adventurers found a not insignificant amount of coin and valuables, mostly lavish jewelry, but also a handful of magic items, including another healing wand and a couple of divine scrolls. Once they had completed their search, they proceeded into the chamber from which the zombies had come.

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24 Planting, 595 CY

Liberty and Xan had little trouble finding the off-duty dwarven guards employed by Ragnolin Dourstone. A few drinks and a sizeable bribe later, they convinced the men to look the other way while the adventurers made a night-time incursion.

The mines were crude passages and tunnels hacked into the ground. Torches were set into the wall every fifty feet, but half of them were burnt out and useless. Liberty evoked her own light to help the party navigate the tunnels. “So, we’re looking for this secret elevator,” she said.

Xan pointed out some signs warning the miners to keep out. “Secret,” rumbled Drake.

Forty feet from the main entrance, the passage to the elevator cut down and to the left from the main tunnel. Timbers and planks nailed to the wooden frame of the passage’s entrance blocked access to the area beyond. Mom offered up his crowbar and Sam pried the crude barricade open.

The tunnel to the elevator stretched to the west and had a sharp, downward slope. After four hundred feet, they came to a chamber in containing a large wooden platform with a five-foot wall built around its edges. Struts rose ten feet from each of the platform’s corners, joining in an X above the platform. A thick iron chain ran through the X’s midpoint to a large wooden spool set in the middle of the platform. The chain was wrapped around the spool, and it appeared that as the car descended, the spool would spin and the chain would play out above it.

Drake pointed at the apparatus. “Brakes, wheel. Release the brake. Turn the wheel.”

“Sounds easy enough,” said Liberty.

“Shall we?” asked Mom, stepping onto the platform.

“Let’s,” said the sorcerer. She and the others stepped aboard.

The elevator creaked, but held their combined weight. Drake released the brake and the car lurched, but the alchemist’s strong arms took control of the wheel and they began their descent.

* * *

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Posted by GnomeSplosion

14 Planting, 595 CY

The door opened into the dark hovel and a large shadow blocked the meager light coming through the doorway. The shape slumped and practically fell through the doorway, a jug hanging from one hand. A skittering noise rasped on the floor and a bundle of beaked fur slammed into the shape’s legs as he stumbled in knocking him over and began clawing up his shins drawing specks of blood here and there. “Gods be damned, Devil! Hell-off-a-me.” And the form shoved the pup owlbear off of his legs. Cornelius Drake stood up, closed the door to his shack-home and slumped against the door, barring it with his own weight.

He had gotten back to Diamond Lake and set up the owlbear cub in his home earlier, laid out some raw meat slivers and scraps and water for the beast. Then he’d grabbed his sack of gold and set out to the closest place to buy a drink. Being dry for two days was not okay with him, and he planned to drink himself into the Nine Hells if he could, so that’s what he did. He now found himself, in the middle of the night, slumped, taking heavy pulls off of a half full gallon of grain alcohol and trying to forget every second of every vivid dream he’d endured sleeping in that abandoned office at the Whispering Cairn. Liquor wasn’t helping much and the memories of his life burned before his eyes, he retched onto the floor; hot, burning spirits issued forth from his gut – hot like fire, hot like blood – and he forgot everything in one instant and all was black, and he found peace.

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