Showing posts with label Rise of The Runelords. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rise of The Runelords. Show all posts

Saturday, December 26, 2020

4 Tips For Running The "Rise of The Runelords" Adventure Path

It's been a long time, but my group finally finished our run through Paizo's Rise of The Runelords adventure path. The tale starts in Blood and Butterflies, and it's a hefty read if you're looking for something to dig through and you don't care about spoilers.

If you're a game master who wants to run this adventure path for your table, though, I wanted to offer some advice this week. Because while all the components of a good time are present, it's all too easy for this particular campaign to feel like a disorderly pile of stuff that happens, rather than like a cohesive story the PCs all played through. So if you want to really make the game work, I'd recommend keeping the following tips in mind.

Spoilers ahead. Also, if you haven't done so yet, make sure you sign up for my weekly newsletter to make sure you don't miss any of my fresh content!

Tip #1: Build Relationships With Important NPCs


That guy? Yeah, you met him... ugh... a while ago. Really, I'm sure you did.

So many events in Rise of The Runelords require you to have some kind of meaningful relationship with certain characters in order for them to have an impact... but if you just follow the text as it is, a lot of the game feels weightless and disjointed.

A perfect example of this is the Vinder sisters. The older sister Katrine has a reputation for always being on the arm of a new man, and though her younger sister Shayliss is more demure, she attempts to seduce the most charismatic member of the party after the battle against the goblins. Katrine is murdered by a ghoul at the old mill to kick off the second major arc of the campaign, but unless you actually had the party meet her, there's no way for them to know who she is, or why her grisly death should matter at all. She's just random unnamed NPC who didn't really show up before, and now she's dead. If you introduce Katrine as a regular at the Rusty Dragon, or have players actually get to know Shayliss after her attempted seduction, they become a part of the party's lives. They matter, so when tragedy befalls them, it hits a lot harder.

As another example, the party meets Aldern Foxglove, but his presence in the book itself is brief to the point he's nearly forgotten. For his whole face-heel turn to matter when we find out he's become a gast, the players have to really like him (or even remember him, beyond random noble they saved). Actually keeping Aldern around, and putting effort into getting people to like him, pays off BIG when you get to the trouble at his family's manor house.

As a final example, let's talk about Judge Ironbriar. It's supposed to be a big deal that this stern-but-fair city judge in Magnimar is the secret head of a skinsaw cult... but if the PCs never met him, why should they care? How do they even know who he is? All it takes is the Sandpoint sheriff sending a letter of recommendation with the PCs to Magnimar, or asking them to escort some prisoners (perhaps NPCs they captured during the first arc) for trial, and you have a perfect setup for them to meet the grim-faced Ironbriar. Painting him as a reluctant ally who claims to be a firm opponent of such dark cults would make it seem like a much bigger deal when the PCs pull off the mask and find it was him... especially if they were telling him their plans and moves, allowing the cult to stay one step ahead of them.

The campaign gives you all the elements you need to make a good story, but you need to string them together into a complete, meaningful whole if it is going to feel like more than a random collection of happenstance.

Tip #2: Make The Game About The PCs


This can take a bit of work, but is worth the effort.

This is one of the tough tricks, but it's one that really matters when it comes to player enjoyment. This campaign needs to feel like something that is about the PCs and what they're doing, rather than a leash that's dragging them hither and yon across Varisia with no rhyme or reason. To that end, make sure you incorporate the PCs' stories into the greater narrative, and make them feel like this is about them, personally. Don't just rely on, "Karzoug's going to take over the woooooooooorld!" because I guarantee you people are going to zone out as soon as that happens.

Dig through your PC backstories and motivations, find things to pin them specifically to a given part of the adventure, and use it to motivate them. If the fighter wants to become a knight or achieve some kind of status recognition, then consider making that part of what they're given by the lord mayor of Magnimar when they save his life. Tie up loose ends neatly, and transfer the lands and titles that belonged to the Foxgloves to this character, and bam, they now have a major achievement. Not only that, but as a knight, those above him in the social pecking order can say, "It is in our interests that this matter be handled, and we wish you to go as our representative." This gives you an easy way to send at least one member of the party away on plot business, and they can easily bring along other PCs who may not be as interested in the plot personally, but who do want to watch their friend's back.

There's all sorts of ways you could spin things. Is the Kellid looking to achieve great renown and respect? Then give them a following of stone giants after they overthrow Mokmurian, giving them a huge boost to their cred as giant retainers/followers are a massive sign of strength and respect among many Kellid tribes. Note that a following and followers aren't necessarily the same thing, but if said Kellid now has the respect of this tribe of giants, then taking out Karzoug now becomes a priority as the Runelord is enslaving even more of their kind through ancient magics, greed, and pacts, so freeing those giants would catapult the Kellid's name into legend. If a character wants to impress the Pathfinder Society, then writing a chronicle of this unfolding adventure and finding the lost knowledge of the Runelords is certainly a way to impress the society. If the group's retired military scout has a former friend-in-arms who was at Fort Rannick, send them a letter asking them to come, because trouble is brewing. And so on, and so forth.

Whenever possible, make it personal.

Something else to keep in mind is that the reputation of the PCs should grow as the campaign goes on. They're achieving amazing things, and word is spreading, so sometimes they might be called on by name as champions to take on a task that no one else in the region has the skill or strength to handle. I talk about this more in Character Reputation in RPGs: The Small Legend, but sometimes all it takes is a little ego stroking to get the PCs to get off their butts and striding out to the lip of the world... and you could even have the "representative" who needs their help be a servant of Karzoug (such as the lamia in disguise) leading them into a trap if you can't think of another way to get them to the next leg of the adventure.

But when in doubt, make it about the goals, motivations, and personal arcs of the characters, and facilitate them through the upcoming events of the campaign. Whether it's knowledge, money, fame, position, power, or a grudge to settle, hold out a carrot and you'll almost never need a stick.

Tip #3: Make The Monsters Into Characters


Whoa, whoa, I don't want no trouble with you, friend.

Paizo includes big blocks of text with important monsters all throughout this campaign, and it's not just there for flavor; you're supposed to actually use it. Not just to decide characters' battle strategies, but to inject some personality into them, and to make them feel more like organic parts of the story.

This goes double if your players want to use Diplomacy at any point, as well as capture and/or redeem enemy NPCs.

Nualia and the named NPC enemies in Thistletop like Gogmurt are perfect examples of this. Because even at low levels it's perfectly possible to capture them, or to try to talk sense into enemies who are on their back foot and about to be beaten. Alternatively, the ogrekin clan over near Fort Rannick come with a huge amount of text behind them giving them each names, wants, desires, etc. The elder lamia sister has her own history, and she could use deception and guile to put the PCs off-guard, or even try to recruit them to the cause of her masters, recognizing that anyone who slew her sister is not to be trifled with.

Perhaps nowhere in the game is this more evident than in the Runeforge. Every one of the apprentices in the Runeforge have names, histories, desires, etc., but if you just make them wait until the PCs show up and roll initiative then the players are missing something like 90% of what they could glean from that whole arc. So have the wizards take the initiative, and try to figure out what their "guests" are there for, and attempt to turn them to their own devices.

Does the evoker resent the others looking down on her for being blunt, and a little crude, so she tries to turn the party against the others to use as weapons (perhaps trying to use them to get the necessary components to make Runeforged weapons herself?). Maybe the conjurer invites them in, feasting the party, explaining to them a slanted view of the battle between the different schools, and he offers to "help" them get what they want, using them as cat's paws to collect the ingredients (a total Sloth move if ever there was one). Even the necromancer might simply tell them what they wish to know just so they'll leave him to his studies (especially if the party contains clerics, paladins, or others who pose a serious, dire threat to the lich's continued existence).

By making the mini bosses into organic characters, each jockeying for position in an ongoing political situation, you can turn the Runeforge into one of the most interesting parts of the campaign. Just leaving them as traps to be sprung, on the other hand, will make that arc quickly devolve into an intensely boring slog where there's no story, and no one can figure out how to accomplish the goal they ostensibly showed up to complete.

Have the monsters recognize the PCs for who and what they are. Give them a sense of self preservation, and if the players want to talk, or take prisoners, don't punish them for that. And if they want to try to redeem monsters, read through their backstory. NPC attitudes and actions changing is just one more way the players' actions can affect the world, and it will get them more immersed in the campaign as it goes along. And if you show them that talking works, and NPCs can change, it's more likely your players won't just gak them and move on to the next set piece.

Tip #4: Modify The Game For PCs Actually at Your Table


Ahem.

Full disclosure, I have not been part of writing a full-sized campaign (yet, at least). However, even writing small-scale projects like the modules False Valor and The Curse of Sapphire Lake, I know there is only so much you can predict when it comes to the abilities of player characters and the actions they'll take.

And in a game with all the options that Pathfinder presents, it's really easy for the players to absolutely stomp whatever challenges are in the book. Or, if they didn't bring some assumed requirement, to be woefully unprepared for what's coming at them.

Just as an example, Rise of The Runelords is a very clear heroes V. villains storyline, where the PCs are assumed to be the good guys. A majority of your foes aren't just bad, or pursuing their own interests, they're capital-e Evil. This means that putting a paladin in your party basically gives the PCs a tactical nuclear strike by mid levels, and if something like the god squad shows up with divine casters that all have access to good-aligned nonsense, it's lights-out Gracie.

It doesn't even need to be something that extreme to throw a monkey wrench into your problems, either. For instance, the arc where ghouls are supposed to be a big threat can get sort of neutered if a majority of the party is immune to disease. At that point ghouls just become annoying mutants that can do some damage, but their big threat is removed. On the other hand, say that your ranger is always one arc behind with their favored enemies, so they never get to actually use the full range of their class features. Or perhaps your players don't believe in ranged weapons, so flying enemies quickly turn into a massive frustration rather than an engaging battle.

The campaign, as it's written, did the best it could to provide a broad framework... you need to adjust it to the characters actually in your game (and when necessary offer some aid/advice so the players don't get caught with their pants down). This sounds obvious, but it bears mentioning because an adventure path is kind of like buying off-the-rack clothes; you're supposed to tailor them to fit once you get them home.

And if you haven't taken a look at DMs, If You Want To Provide a Tougher Challenge, Alter Your Arenas, I highly recommend giving it a read through. Also, take a look at No, That Class Isn't Broken (You're Just Throwing The Wrong Challenges at It). Lastly, if you find that your players are wrecking too much face, don't immediately just grab bigger CR encounters... add more creatures, and use good strategy. An orc hit squad that uses solid tactics, high ground, lighting, cover, and strategy is always going to be a more dangerous threat than a beastie that has 9 more hit dice, but is still fighting a 1 V. 4-5 battle against the party.

What's Next on Table Talk?


After this one, we're really moving on from Runelords! I've got some stuff planned for the coming months, but as always suggestions and requests are more than welcome for what you'd like to see on future Table Talk posts.

For more of my work, check out my Vocal archives, as well as the YouTube channel Dungeon Keeper Radio where I help out from time to time. Or, to check out books like my hard-boiled cat noir novel Marked Territory, my sword and sorcery novel Crier's Knife or my recent short story collection The Rejects, head over to My Amazon Author Page!

To stay on top of all my latest releases, follow me on FacebookTumblr, and Twitter, as well as on Pinterest where I'm building all sorts of boards dedicated to my books, RPG supplements, and greatest hits. Lastly, to help support me and my work, consider Buying Me A Ko-Fi, or heading over to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to become a regular, monthly patron! Even a little donation can have a big impact.

Saturday, November 28, 2020

Rise of The Runelords Chapter 30: The Fall of Karzoug

Past dangers untold, and through threats unnumbered, the Companions have found themselves at the foot of Karzoug's stronghold. The Runelord who, in his arrogance, believes he can simply sweep down on the land he abandoned when the Starstone fell and cast the world in darkness thousands of years before. Though hundreds of his servants and cat's paws have fallen, the Runelord of Greed still feels that he can transform the Companions from his staunch enemies, to servants beneath his power... so he opened his doors, and welcomed them inside.

The time for the reckoning was nigh.

For those who need to catch up, the tale is as follows:

- Chapter 1: Blood and Butterflies
- Chapter 2: Murder and Glass
- Chapter 3: The Sin Pit
- Chapter 4: Tussles in The Tangle
- Chapter 5: The Assault on Thistletop
- Chapter 6: Secrets Behind The Curtain
- Chapter 7: Murders At The Mill
- Chapter 8: Halflings and Ghouls
- Chapter 9: Fox in The Hen House
- Chapter 10: Something Rotten in Magnimar
- Chapter 11: The Crumbling Tower
- Chapter 12: Demonbane
- Chapter 13: Trouble at Turtleback Ferry
- Chapter 14: The Taking of Fort Rannick
- Chapter 15: Water Over The Dam
- Chapter 16: Mad Lovers, And Lost Captains
- Chapter 17: The March of The Giants
- Chapter 18: The Taking of Jorgenfist
- Chapter 19: The Secrets Beneath Sandpoint
- Chapter 20: At The Gates of The Runeforge
- Chapter 21: Storming The Halls of Evocation
- Chapter 22: The Bowels of Necromancy's Tomb
- Chapter 23: The End of Runeforge
- Chapter 30: The Fall of Karzoug
 
 Now, onward, to the final chapter...

The Horrors of Karzoug's Fortress


The servant's entrance needs no decoration.

Once the Companions made their way to the doorway at the foot of the massive fortress atop the mountain, the door opened as if to welcome them in. They climbed square-cut stone stairs, ascending ever higher until they reached a large room with a strange, enchanted circle worked into the floor. Two doors were set into the walls, the wood beautiful but plain... and a man stood before the Companions. A man who, at first glance, appeared to be the Runelord himself... but who quickly revealed that his name was 227, and that he was merely a servant of the great Karzoug. A creature grown from the flesh of his great creator, and whose flaws meant he was a mere menial in the service of the Runelord rather than a functionary of importance.

227 showed the Companions to a waiting chamber that made even the opulence of the palaces of Magnimar seem drab by comparison. Mother of pearl ran along the walls, with priceless pieces of art and a nation's ransom in gems scattered as haphazardly as cushions in a lounging pit. With their hands on the hilts of their weapons, and their eyes looking for ambush in every corner, the Companions seemed almost like a pack of wolves who had stumbled into an oasis... but an oasis where they knew a deadly viper lay in wait for them.

The strange mockery of Kharzoug bid the Companions to please rest. He would inform Karzoug they had come, and once he found a gap in his labors he was certain his master would see them. Zhakar nodded, replying with instinctual courtesy from his youth as 227 scurried out the door. No sooner was he gone, though, than the Companions began to explore their surroundings looking to learn all they could about the strange wizard.

Through a small door, half hidden on the other side of the tower, they found Karzoug's magical laboratory... and all of the horrors it contained.

The Companions found dragon eggs made from raw components, the unborn creatures lacking souls. They found undead woven through with plants, creating bizarre, parasitic organisms unlike anything they'd seen before. They found creatures who had been half-transmuted into devils and demons, and people turned into living stone. Guarding it they found an angel, blinded and hampered, bound by geas and spell to defend Karzoug's laboratory against invaders. The Runelord's spells, however potent, separated under the edge of the Companions' runeforged weapons. With tears in her eyes, the angel who had been held captive for so long was sent home by Ivory, who laid her hands upon the exhausted servant of heaven and sent her on her way.

There was more, however. The Companions discovered that in addition to shaping the plane with his spells, Karzoug had also created his own gatekeepers. The soul of an orphan boy purchased from slavers had become the storm giant king who cast lightning in the clouds. A loyal hound had been grown and changed until it forgot it had ever been anything but a dragon. And someone whose name the Runelord hadn't even thought important enough to record had become the devil who gambled for lives and stakes in the center of the city.

Every vein of corruption that ran through Xin Shalast, every vile deed and every perversion, all of it could be traced to the mind of the creature that called itself the master of this plane.

The Runelord's Attendants

 
Filled with disgust, and a fury that would not wait a moment longer, the Companions stormed through the waiting room, and into an audience chamber. 227 was in there, as they'd expected, but so was a strange woman with a clearly infernal heritage, alongside two massive rune giants. The woman drew the weapon at her side, a shimmering scimitar, and when she spoke her voice sounded hollow; the delivery of a puppet master from somewhere off to one side of the stage.

Now was not the time for debate and discussion, though. The Companions had seen the black heart and rotting guts of Karzoug's enterprises, and there was no longer a need for words.

Now is the time when swords speak true.

For all the Companions' fury, it was the strange fighter possessed by the malignant blade that rushed forward first. The blade dragged along Zhakar's ribs, piercing his steel skin and drawing blood in a dozen places. He returned the attack blow for blow, his blood sizzling where it struck the floor as if molten metal pounded through his veins. Thok rushed to his friend's side, his ranseur raking and slashing, leaving rents in the swordswoman's side.

Slow, but powerful, the giants soon joined the fray. Though they struck Ivory and Thok with crushing blows, they were not enough to turn the tide. One fell beneath Chikara's sparking ax, and the other fell dead at a wave of Mirelinda's hand, ghostly harrow cards whirling round it in a swirl that cut it to ribbons. As the infernal puppet fell, the sword reformed itself, growing legs and eyes like some bizarre insect, and running for the safety of the laboratory. Before it could pass, Ivory whispered a spell, and brushed her fingers against the blade. The air popped, and the weapon vanished into the very edges of the planes where it could do no one any further harm.

As Ivory healed the Companions' wounds, 227 got back to his feet, wiping blood from his mouth where the possessed creature had struck him. He limped ahead, prattling about the rooms they passed, and finally gestured the Companions forward. His master was through there, preparing a meal for them. Zhakar bent, and saw Karzoug through a keyhole, but the door would not budge. There was a strange enchantment on it, and when they finally found a set of keys that fit the lock they discovered that turning the key transported them somewhere they had no expected.
 
That is one big hot chocolate.
 
They were in the kitchen, yes... but they had been shrunk to the size of toys upon the table. Hams reared up like hill tops, teapots stood like fortresses, and across an expanse of pie and rolling loaves of bread stood the towering figure of Karzoug. He welcomed his guests, and asked them once more if they would not agree to join him. When they refused, parts of the table erupted, changing themselves into deadly enemies. An onion became a white dragon, an apple core a bat-winged devil, and a twist of licorice metamorphosed into a massive scorpion with black venom dripping from its claws and tail.

They fared no better than Karzoug's other minions had.

Zhakar took to the air to menace the dragon and the devil alike, keeping them away from the others. Thok climbed to the top of the tea kettle, and drew a bead on the scorpion just as it snapped its pincers around Chikara. Ivory whispered a spell, and when Thok's arrow flew the enchantment the Companions were all under vanished, and his arrow returned to its normal size, slamming through the creature like a giant's balista.

Taken aback, Karzoug fled the field as his creatures were torn to pieces. A shimmering doorway at the far end of the table marked what the Runelord had likely intended as the exit for the Companions once they graciously accepted his offer. With no time to waste, they dressed their wounds on the fly, and flung themselves through the portal.

The Fall of The Runelord


The Companions found themselves in a golden chamber, supported by a dozen pillars. Karzoug sat upon a huge throne, the gems in his head glimmering in the light. He was impressed with them. They were more determined than he'd given them credit for. But having fought so hard just to get where they now stood, did they really feel they could best him? In his own chamber of rulership? Ivory raised her voice, and entreated Karzoug one last time. He could end this... undo all of it. It was within his power to change things for the better. He sneered, and said he would show her what his power could change.

You wish to see my final form?

With a silent whisper of his will, the chamber melted around Karzoug, altering and changing. Cylinders of thick, viscous liquid emerged from the walls, with dark creatures floating inside of them. The floor fell away, except for a central path leading to the seat upon which Karzoug sat. As the Runelord stood, though, the throne melted and parted, and Karzoug himself grew. His robes flowed, and his skin altered, his body becoming a massive form of war that still boasted the smiling, self-assured face of the man who had survived the end of the world when doom had come to Golarion so many centuries before. A relic of another age, convinced that nothing so young in this world could pose a threat to him.

He was about to realize that his hubris would be his undoing.

Unfurling his wings, a light shone from Zhakar. It was bright, but not blinding, and for the first time the voice that issued forth from him sounded like his own. A whisper that entered the Companions' ears, their minds, and their hearts. Light filled them all, and as one they turned their gazes upon the Runelord. Then, driven by the conviction that had been breathed into them, they struck.

Thok was the first to rush the dais, his ranseur cutting a swath through Karzoug's belly. Though the Runelord had laid protections across himself, Thok's aim was true, and his weapon blazed with the fury of both the divine, and the power of the Runeforge. He'd barely finished his swing when Chikara was at his side, her ax biting into the Runelord's mercurial flesh, chewing through his wards as if they were made of paper. Karzoug laughed, and light flashed. On the far wall, one of the cylinders shattered, and a creature fell out of the chamber. It had a body identical to Karzoug, but which bore the wounds the Runelord had taken in his stead. It fell away into space, vanishing into nothingness.

Ivory looked at the rows of cylinders, each of them holding a copy of the Runelord... and she understood why he had been so confident.

Realizing the full scope of how dire the situation was, Ivory shouted for the others to hold nothing back. She unleashed fire at Karzoug, the spell infused with the light granted her by Zhakar. Mirelinda concentrated, and plucked at the threads of fate, bolstering the destiny and fortune of the others. Chikara struck like she'd been possessed, and Thok slashed and stabbed as if his life depended on it... as indeed it very well did. Karzoug flung fire and force at Mirelinda and Ivory, bringing his sword down on those assaulting him.

As more cylinders popped, and the bodies within them vanished, though, he unleashed deeper magics.

In the blink of an eye, Thok and Chikara were locked within a prison of force. The Runelord shimmered with additional protections, and he laughed. The laugh was mocking, but deep within there was something... a single crack of fear.

Zhakar flew into the fray, hammering at the prison with his pick and attempting to parry the huge blade that Karzoug brought down toward his neck. Thok's ranseur sliced through the walls of the prison, and Chikara's ax burst it apart from within, leaving her panting and snarling up at the creature. Ivory attacked the cylinders directly, her spells smashing them open and denying Karzoug the regenerative power of his doppelgangers.

The Runelord had his arm raised, when Zhakar exploded in a burst of light. Thok and Chikara felt their wounds and weariness leave them, and Kharzoug howled, holding a hand across his temporarily blinded eyes. Thok, seizing the advantage, drove his ranseur into the Runelord, ripping at his weakest places. More cylinders burst, leaving Kharzoug alone before the panting, bleeding Companions.

Just as Kharzoug regained his sight, Zhakar leaped into the air. His wings beat a powerful charge, and with a single cry he brought his pick down into the center of Kharzoug's forehead. The runeforged blade shattered the gem set in the wizard's forehead, and drove deep into his brain. Kharzoug hung there for a moment, his body attempting to remake itself; to transform into something else. But there was no denying the inevitable; no way to fight against the darkness snuffing out the last of his life force.

Thus fell Kharzoug, who had thought himself the greatest of the Runelords.

Epilogue


Kharzoug's death reverberated through the realm, and the seat of power he had forged sat empty. The Well of Greed, which had been beneath his throne, needed to be bound to someone. If it was not, then Xin Shalast would tear itself apart.

Each of them felt the temptation. That desire to seize such colossal power. But they also knew that even if they did so with the best of intentions that it could lead to disaster. That it could corrupt them. The Well of Greed needed to be bound to a creature who could withstand its influence. Whose altruism was unassailable, and purer than that of any mortal's.

So they offered it to the realm of heaven, and to the angel who had been bound as a slave to the realm for so many years. It only seemed right that she should be the one to help shape Xin Shalast into something new. Something better.

Huh... didn't see that one coming.

The coming days saw many changes come to Xin Shalast. The release of slaves that had been taken from the material plane, the shattering of bonds of those who'd lived in servitude in the realm, and the scouring of the wicked, the corrupt, and the degenerate. Succor was given to the weak and the wounded, and some of the damage Karzoug had done over the many centuries of his rule began to heal.

It was as the Companions stood at the gates to return whence they'd come, that Zhakar stopped. He had been contemplative for days, as if listening to a force no one else could hear. At the doorstep of a return to the material plane, he clasped Thok's arm, and pulled his friend into a fierce embrace.

"This is where our paths diverge," Zhakar said, the rune on his forehead burning and throbbing. "Would it were otherwise. But the places I must go, I cannot bring you with me. I wish you warm days and bright fires Thok, son of Uugoo."

Zhakar unslung the flametongue, the weapon warm to the touch even wrapped in its sheathe of dragon hide, and offered it to Chikara in both hands. It was a strangely formal gesture.

"Please, name one of your sons for me," Zhakar said. "When you do, put this weapon in his hands to mark the event. Then, when you feel he's earned it, give him the blade to light his way in the world."

He turned to Mirelinda, and reached into his pouch. He pressed a small vial into her hands. It glowed faintly, filled with a thick, viscous fluid. "I much doubt this is a surprise to you, but this is the greatest value I have to give. Should you need to find me, or to call me to you, inscribe the spell with this."

He took a last, long breath, pulling the air into his lungs before he turned to Ivory. "I have waited long enough. There are introductions I need to make... and a promise I need to keep before I can rest."

What's Next on Table Talk?


Now that Rise of The Runelords is complete, what would you like to see next time on Table Talk? Suggestions are always welcome!

For more of my work, check out my Vocal archives, as well as the YouTube channel Dungeon Keeper Radio where I help out from time to time. Or, to check out books like my hard-boiled cat noir novel Marked Territory, my sword and sorcery novel Crier's Knife or my recent short story collection The Rejects, head over to My Amazon Author Page!

To stay on top of all my latest releases, follow me on FacebookTumblr, and Twitter, as well as on Pinterest where I'm building all sorts of boards dedicated to my books, RPG supplements, and greatest hits. Lastly, to help support me and my work, consider Buying Me A Ko-Fi, or heading over to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to become a regular, monthly patron! Even a little donation can have a big impact.

Thursday, October 29, 2020

Rise of The Runelords Chapter 29: Crossing The Barrier of Greed

The Companions have fought their way past dangers untold, and found themselves in the lost realm of Xin-Shalast. Threatened and opposed at every turn, they have forced their way to the very doorstep of the Runelord Karzoug. Only one thing stands between him and them, and that is the barrier of greed. Only three servants hold keys, and the Companions must acquire one if they are to pass by to confront the master of transmutation in his own lair.

For those who need to catch up, previous installments are listed below:

- Chapter 1: Blood and Butterflies
- Chapter 2: Murder and Glass
- Chapter 3: The Sin Pit
- Chapter 4: Tussles in The Tangle
- Chapter 5: The Assault on Thistletop
- Chapter 6: Secrets Behind The Curtain
- Chapter 7: Murders At The Mill
- Chapter 8: Halflings and Ghouls
- Chapter 9: Fox in The Hen House
- Chapter 10: Something Rotten in Magnimar
- Chapter 11: The Crumbling Tower
- Chapter 12: Demonbane
- Chapter 13: Trouble at Turtleback Ferry
- Chapter 14: The Taking of Fort Rannick
- Chapter 15: Water Over The Dam
- Chapter 16: Mad Lovers, And Lost Captains
- Chapter 17: The March of The Giants
- Chapter 18: The Taking of Jorgenfist
- Chapter 19: The Secrets Beneath Sandpoint
- Chapter 20: At The Gates of The Runeforge
- Chapter 21: Storming The Halls of Evocation
- Chapter 22: The Bowels of Necromancy's Tomb
- Chapter 23: The End of Runeforge
- Chapter 30: The Fall of Karzoug
 
Also, for those who don't want to miss any of my updates, please subscribe to my weekly newsletter so that nothing gets lost in the algorithm!

Stealing From a Dragon


After evaluating all of their choices, the Companions took some time to prepare themselves. Bargaining with a devil was not a contest they relished, nor was fighting a storm giant among the clouds. But she who was draped in gold had potential. For there was something they'd noticed in walking through the marketplaces of Xin-Shalast; gold was a worthless currency in that place. Barely worth paving the streets with, the riches that would have purchased kingdoms on the material plane were nothing more than decoration here. Yet the magma dragon's hoard was filled with gold and silver, and she herself encased in it to the point that she cold only fly through magic.

It was not her hoard, however. That treasure room had become her prison, and the "gift" that Karzoug had given her was the lock that kept her there. Enthralled to a magic mirror, she would stay there of her own volition, addicted to gazing upon her gilded reflection.

A more perfect prison has never been constructed.

To test this theory, the Companions dug through the hoard of the white dragon they'd slain who'd guarded the pass. In it they found a large mirror, wrought in gold and silver, carved with artistry and skill. It was a marvel to behold, and would have been a fit gift for any queen. When they presented the mirror to Zargatoth, the massive dragon lifted the mirror and examined it. Then, as if compelled to, she destroyed it, crumpling the beautiful piece of art in her fist. Sadness choked her voice when she spoke, saying she was allowed to have nothing of her own.

Thok slowly nocked an arrow, his shoulders tense as Zhakar approached the huge dragon. She was near to weeping, confused, and disoriented. She hadn't seen her mirror in so long... she knew it was close, but she couldn't find it. That was when Ivory spotted it, lodged in the melted gold on Zargatoth's back. The mirror was far too potent to be harmed by her body's heat, and she'd lost it within her own gilded shackles. Ivory told the dragon where it was, but she couldn't reach it; not with the heavy slabs of muscle that prevented her flexibility.

Speaking softly, and assuring her that they wished to help, Zhakar asked Zargatoth to allow them to extract the mirror from her. Reluctantly, the dragon lay down, digging her claws into the stone.

 A Delicate Procedure


Zargatoth's possessive connection to the mirror, and it's tight hold over her, made removing it a dangerous endeavor. Even if the Companions were careful, one wrong move could lead to bloodshed... bloodshed they'd rather avoid if it were possible.

Mirelinda spoke softly, the soothing sounds flowing from her lips as she cast a spell to calm Zargatoth's fears and furies. Focusing on the jagged rune burned into his forehead, Zhakar erupted in protective flames, flying onto Zargatoth's back. Using the burning claws of his twisted devil's hand, Zhakar peeled away gold and silver, reducing the metal to slag as he flung it away from him. Ivory floated nearby, keeping an eye on Zargatoth and using precise beams of fire to help cut the mirror out of the dragon's golden shackles. Though becalmed by magic, the dragon's anxiety raised her body's temperature, melting the gold and silver faster, the metal running into puddles on the floor. The mirror was singing a siren's song, trying to persuade Zhakar to look into its surface, to see what he desired there, but its song fell on deaf ears as the memories of what he saw in the gaps between worlds returned to him. Wrenching the mirror free, he set it down on the stone before Zargatoth, backing away from her.

The sight of the mirror immediately smote the dragon between her eyes. She stepped out of the pool of molten metal, shaking herself off. While the carapace that had weighed her down for so long was gone, her mind was as shackled as it had ever been. Withdrawing to a safe distance, the Companions spoke in low whispers; even though Zargatoth was completely lost in the enthrallment of her addiction.

They needed that mirror to cross the barrier, and Ivory could tell from the wefts of the magic around its enchantment that once bound to a new owner Zargatoth would be free of its compulsions. But the new owner would need to break that curse as well, or over time the mirror would enchant and degrade them until they were slaves to the reflection. She could create the spell to break it, given time, but they would need to steal the mirror.

As Ivory gathered the supplies, and penned the scrolls that would be necessary, escorted by Chikara to ensure none thought to try to steal Ivory, the others watched Zargatoth. She barely moved a muscle, lying there enraptured by what the mirror showed her. For hours she stayed there, and would likely have stayed there indefinitely had the Companions not taken action.

With the simple application of a few spells, Chikara vanished from sight, running like the wind. Hefting the huge mirror, she ran, bolting into the city. Confused, the spell broken, Zargatoth cast around for the cause of her mirror's absence. The rest of the Companions fled as well, their speed enhanced by both adrenaline, and magic. Unable to fly, and with no idea where they were going, Zargatoth quickly fell behind.

When they were safely away, or as safe as they could be under the circumstances, they found the mirror had shrunk itself, and changed its form. No longer a hand mirror for a dragon, it was now something sized for any of the Companions... should they wish to take it. After a brief discussion of the risks, and what could happen, Mirelinda held her hand out to the mirror. It all but leaped into her grasp, the metal warm, comforting, and familiar as she gazed into it, and bonded with it. Across the city Zargatoth awoke, truly awoke, for the first time in ages. The hunger in her was gone, the need absent for the first time she could remember in many years.

Mirelinda gazed at her reflection, lips pursed as she examined herself. She fixed her hair, and adjusted her necklace, nodding. When Zhakar cleared his throat she jumped, as if lost in thought, but put the mirror away in her satchel with only a little reluctance.

The final challenge was still ahead.

Return Next Time For The Finale!


One of the longest campaigns I've played in a while, and the finale is just around the corner! Stay tuned, and I'll see you next time on Table Talk!

For more of my work, check out my Vocal archives, as well as the YouTube channel Dungeon Keeper Radio where I help out from time to time. Or, to check out books like my hard-boiled cat noir novel Marked Territory, my sword and sorcery novel Crier's Knife or my recent short story collection The Rejects, head over to My Amazon Author Page!

To stay on top of all my latest releases, follow me on FacebookTumblr, and Twitter, as well as on Pinterest where I'm building all sorts of boards dedicated to my books, RPG supplements, and greatest hits. Lastly, to help support me and my work, consider Buying Me A Ko-Fi, or heading over to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to become a regular, monthly patron! Even a little donation can have a big impact.

Saturday, October 3, 2020

Rise of The Runelords Chapter 28: The Three-Fold Challenge of Xin-Shalast

The Companions have dealt with threats untold, and fought their way to the realm of one of the most noted of the Runelords. They have beheld countless horrors, and now they are all that stands between Karzoug and his fresh conquest of the lands he once ruled. But though the Runelord invited them to test their mettle against his, he is no fool. There is yet one more challenge the Companions must overcome... the barrier surrounding the heights of Xin-Shalast!
 
For those who need to catch up:

- Chapter 1: Blood and Butterflies
- Chapter 2: Murder and Glass
- Chapter 3: The Sin Pit
- Chapter 4: Tussles in The Tangle
- Chapter 5: The Assault on Thistletop
- Chapter 6: Secrets Behind The Curtain
- Chapter 7: Murders At The Mill
- Chapter 8: Halflings and Ghouls
- Chapter 9: Fox in The Hen House
- Chapter 10: Something Rotten in Magnimar
- Chapter 11: The Crumbling Tower
- Chapter 12: Demonbane
- Chapter 13: Trouble at Turtleback Ferry
- Chapter 14: The Taking of Fort Rannick
- Chapter 15: Water Over The Dam
- Chapter 16: Mad Lovers, And Lost Captains
- Chapter 17: The March of The Giants
- Chapter 18: The Taking of Jorgenfist
- Chapter 19: The Secrets Beneath Sandpoint
- Chapter 20: At The Gates of The Runeforge
- Chapter 21: Storming The Halls of Evocation
- Chapter 22: The Bowels of Necromancy's Tomb
- Chapter 23: The End of Runeforge
- Chapter 30: The Fall of Karzoug
 
Lastly, if you want to stay up-to-date on this and all my other stories, please subscribe to my weekly newsletter so you don't miss anything!
 
Now that you're caught up, to continue the adventure...

A Dying Empire, And An Impassable Barrier


After all the legends the Companions had heard of Xin-Shalast, and all the tales of its beauty and grandeur, the sight that greeted them upon their arrival was not what they had expected. Carved from the side of the mountain, the city had clearly been a place of splendor and aesthetic perfection once upon a time.

That time was long passed, though. What was left behind was a cancerous place, quickly falling to ruin and rot; an apt reflection of the soul of its master.

This place is dying... but still dangerous.

Xin-Shalast was far from lifeless, however. The lower districts swarmed with the rabble, all of them ducking away and shying from the mere sight of the Companions. Above that was a place of petty nobles and ragged gentry, each with their cadre of slaves in tow. A merchant district sold any and everything, with ancient relics and strange technologies changing hands for souls, promises, delicacies, and blood. There were traders from Leng, stone giants, strange denizens from the outer planes, and three dozen other varieties of creature the Companions had never seen before. Greed pumped through the veins of the city, giving it life even as it forms a scabrous carapace, calcifying its lifeblood.

The Companions felt a dozen different emotions climbing through the city. Sorrow at the state of the people, disgust at the casual brutality, rage at the callous disregard for humanity, and at the last a cold determination to cut the head from the serpent and be done with this.

That was when they encountered the barrier. The upper reaches of Xin-Shalast where Karzoug dwelt were held behind a dome of power. A dome that could only be bypassed by those who had the proper key. There were three such keys, each held by someone of power. It seemed one reason the Runelord was as confident as he was because the Companions were on the other side of the shield from him.

The Dragon, The Tyrant, and The Devil


Perhaps one of them will make a deal with us?

Upon learning of the conditions they needed to pass the barrier, the Companions first approached the tax collector of Xin-Shalast... she who is draped in gold. They entered a colossal hall of wealth, with coins and jewels stacked on every side. The collector sat upon a dais at the end of the approach; a towering magma dragon with melted gold encrusted on her scales. She was a sight to behold... but even the most nimble of silver tongues was barely enough to still her irritation at being disturbed from admiring her form. When it was clear she was in no mood to discuss anything, the Companions left with as much grace as they were able before they would have to test their steel against her flames.

The second place they went was the gambling den run by a fiend. None seemed to know his name, but all obeyed the rule of his establishment. A rule that seemed to say most desires were legal, and all debts had to be paid. The fiend smiled at Zhakar, addressing him by name, and welcoming the son of such a prominent devil to his establishment. He was more than happy to bargain the marked coin he held as his key to the wall of greed... but the price he set was high. A child of Zhakar's bloodline, fathered on one of his own servants. Not so high a price, he said, with the soft whisper of the infernal that Zhakar knew all too well. It might even be a price he would enjoy paying.

Mastering his urge to try to slay the fiend, and keeping a tight control of his tongue, Zhakar assured the keeper of the house that he would consider the offer, and inform him of his decision soon.

It was the third holder of a key that elicited both pity and fury in equal measure. Above the city came the constant crash of thunder, and flash of lightning. A dozen giants lay dead on the ground, fallen from a great height. In the clouds stood the towering figure of a storm giant, his flesh slowly turning black and stony as he dipped deeper and deeper into the well of power Karzoug had given him. Rebuilding an ancient sky citadel, he planned to raise his people back to the power and grandeur they had once had... no matter who he had to kill to do it. And despite all that Karzoug had done to him. and the hold over his soul the Runelord had, he would not even entertain the idea of parting with the ring that would allow him to bypass the wall. For it was his ring that gave him power, and allowed him to accomplish what so many considered impossible.

Which Will They Choose?


With the three guardians of the keys known to them, the Companions face a choice. They must acquire one to enter the upper city... but who will they choose? And how will they go about it? For every moment they wait, more suffering goes on all around them. And worse, if they hesitate, it might be the only edge Karzoug needs to enact whatever plan he had for dealing with them.

Stay tuned, and I'll see you next time on Table Talk!

For more of my work, check out my Vocal archives, as well as the YouTube channel Dungeon Keeper Radio where I help out from time to time. Or, to check out books like my hard-boiled cat noir novel Marked Territory, my sword and sorcery novel Crier's Knife or my recent short story collection The Rejects, head over to My Amazon Author Page!

To stay on top of all my latest releases, follow me on FacebookTumblr, and Twitter, as well as on Pinterest where I'm building all sorts of boards dedicated to my books, RPG supplements, and greatest hits. Lastly, to help support me and my work, consider Buying Me A Ko-Fi, or heading over to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to become a regular, monthly patron! Even a little donation can have a big impact.

Saturday, September 5, 2020

Rise of The Runelords Chapter 27: The Path of Temptation

The Companions stand upon the doorstep of the hidden realm of Xin-Shalast. Many foul creatures, ancient evils, and terrible monsters had stood in their way, but soon they would face Karzoug on the steps of his own realm. As they turned to watch Shepherd lead his charges back home toward the south, they could hear the yawning void within the cave. They knew not what lurked beyond, but according to Mirelinda's harrowing it could be nothing good.
 
So they went, prepared for anything... except, perhaps, what they found. For those who need to catch up regarding this adventure, previous installments are below!

- Chapter 1: Blood and Butterflies
- Chapter 2: Murder and Glass
- Chapter 3: The Sin Pit
- Chapter 4: Tussles in The Tangle
- Chapter 5: The Assault on Thistletop
- Chapter 6: Secrets Behind The Curtain
- Chapter 7: Murders At The Mill
- Chapter 8: Halflings and Ghouls
- Chapter 9: Fox in The Hen House
- Chapter 10: Something Rotten in Magnimar
- Chapter 11: The Crumbling Tower
- Chapter 12: Demonbane
- Chapter 13: Trouble at Turtleback Ferry
- Chapter 14: The Taking of Fort Rannick
- Chapter 15: Water Over The Dam
- Chapter 16: Mad Lovers, And Lost Captains
- Chapter 17: The March of The Giants
- Chapter 18: The Taking of Jorgenfist
- Chapter 19: The Secrets Beneath Sandpoint
- Chapter 20: At The Gates of The Runeforge
- Chapter 21: Storming The Halls of Evocation
- Chapter 22: The Bowels of Necromancy's Tomb
- Chapter 23: The End of Runeforge
- Chapter 30: The Fall of Karzoug

So what lies ahead? Only the darkest secrets of the soul...

Through The Nexus

 
As the Companions entered the cave, the wind gave way to something else. The stone around them began to crack, and through the cracks they could see far-away lights. The smells of the material plane fell away behind them, and there was only the empty scent of a vast gulf. Light came from everywhere and nowhere, but it did nothing to illuminate the cavernous blackness as the walls fell away. Their paths floated untethered in a void... a void that seemed to respond to them strangely.

Where the hell are we, exactly?

As the Companions advanced, weapons and spells at the ready, they began to hear things... strange things. Voices of those long dead. Whispers from the void speaking of what might have happened in other places, and other times. Zhakar was in the midst of attempting to reassure his friends when he heard a familiar voice for the first time since he'd been a child; his mother's voice.

He stopped cold, the steel of his manica shrieking as spikes ran down the metal like gooseflesh. As he turned his face, a path of stones manifested, and built into a doorway. Darkling light shone through, along with screams of anguished pleasure. Shadows danced beyond, and he stepped forward, knowing as he did that he did not wish to see what lay beyond that gate.

My son... how you've grown...

As Mirelinda shouted for Zhakar to turn back, and Thokk yelled for his friend, Zhakar stared through a gateway and into a scene from hell. His mother stood there, facing the gateway. Her skin shone like burnished silver, and her hair like spun gold. She wore a simple dress of white, but it seemed wrong somehow... the white of a wraith rather than that of an angel. That was when Zhakar realized she was not alone.

Looming over her, his perfect face filled with indolent desire, was a creature Zhakar had only heard of spoken in whispers. He bore his bat wing and red scales with pride, his tunic cut to show rather than hide his corruption. The clawed hand that rested on his mother's shoulder was possessive, the claws digging into her skin. When the archfiend Belial spoke, it was the sound of a beautiful serpent, singing to distract you as it dripped poison into your ear.

"My son," the creature said, genuine pleasure in its voice. "You have made me proud."
 
Zhakar stood in horror, rooted to the stones, his control over his form slipping. His wings flared, the fire filling his eyes sparking from a coal to a blaze. Rather than seeming afraid, the Lord of Lust simply smiled wider... a parent watching its child run instead of walk for the first time.

"Come," the fiend intoned, holding out its other hand. It held Zhakar's mother tighter, wringing a gasp of pain from her. "Join us. This is where you belong, blood of my blood, and flesh of my flesh."
 
Shaking, torn between fear, rage, pain, and fury, Zhakar reached for the runeforged weapon at his side. A weapon that would be the bane of a shapeshifter, as he well knew his father to be. He gripped it until his knuckles cracked, and he stared through the portal. He held his mother's eyes. Eyes that held their own fear, and their own pain... but eyes that had once faced down the horrors of the Worldwound and kept their sanity. Eyes that had seen a thousand battles, and who understood. Zhakar gazed upon the too-perfect face of his father, and spoke with a formality none had heard from him before. The voice of a squire taking his oath.

"When my task is complete, and my deeds here done, I will come for her. I swear it upon this steel," Zhakar said. "And were I you, I would hope that day does not come."
 
His fiendish father merely grinned, and spoke the words that would echo in Zhakar's mind from that day forward. "Do as you wish."

An Oath Made, and a Duty To Be Fulfilled

The portal collapsed as Zhakar turned his back upon it. His shoulders sagging, his face open and naked. The fear was gone from his face, the hatred drained away... the man who stumbled toward his friends seemed more like the scared child that he had been when he had lost his mother the first time, and was cast out by the zealots and witch hunters that fancied themselves crusaders. Thok embraced his friend, holding him as if he meant to keep his soul from fleeing his body.

Zhakar gathered strength from that moment, standing tall once again. He was himself, but more than that... he seemed more like the man who had stood with them at Sandpoint when the goblins attacked. Like an old sword that had been sharpened and honed, it was as if the edge had returned to him... the fire in his heart that had nearly guttered growing once more.

"Let us see this done, my friends," he said, turning once again to the bright light springing into being on the other side of eternity. "It seems I have other business to attend, and do not wish to keep it waiting long."

Next Time on Table Talk!

The adventure draws toward a head! Karzoug has nowhere left to hide, and he has chosen the home territory of his mountain fortress... but will it be enough to save him from the Companions' vengeance? Stay tuned, and I'll see you next time on Table Talk!

For more of my work, check out my Vocal archives, as well as the YouTube channel Dungeon Keeper Radio where I help out from time to time. Or, to check out books like my sword and sorcery novel Crier's Knife or my recent short story collection The Rejects, head over to My Amazon Author Page!

To stay on top of all my latest releases, follow me on FacebookTumblr, and Twitter, as well as on Pinterest where I'm building all sorts of boards dedicated to my books, RPG supplements, and greatest hits. Lastly, to help support me and my work, consider Buying Me A Ko-Fi, or heading over to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to become a regular, monthly patron! Even a little donation can have a big impact.

Sunday, August 9, 2020

Rise of The Runelords Chapter 26: The Gateway To Xin-Shalast

The Companions have ventured far from the origin of their adventure, and though they were beset by a spirit of hunger and dread, they managed to slay the Wendigo and break its grip on the mountains... but not before it took one of their own. With Ivory's blood cooling on the snow, and the storm finally passing, what will happen next?

For those who need to catch up on this tale, the table of contents for the adventure are as follows:

- Chapter 1: Blood and Butterflies
- Chapter 2: Murder and Glass
- Chapter 3: The Sin Pit
- Chapter 4: Tussles in The Tangle
- Chapter 5: The Assault on Thistletop
- Chapter 6: Secrets Behind The Curtain
- Chapter 7: Murders At The Mill
- Chapter 8: Halflings and Ghouls
- Chapter 9: Fox in The Hen House
- Chapter 10: Something Rotten in Magnimar
- Chapter 11: The Crumbling Tower
- Chapter 12: Demonbane
- Chapter 13: Trouble at Turtleback Ferry
- Chapter 14: The Taking of Fort Rannick
- Chapter 15: Water Over The Dam
- Chapter 16: Mad Lovers, And Lost Captains
- Chapter 17: The March of The Giants
- Chapter 18: The Taking of Jorgenfist
- Chapter 19: The Secrets Beneath Sandpoint
- Chapter 20: At The Gates of The Runeforge
- Chapter 21: Storming The Halls of Evocation
- Chapter 22: The Bowels of Necromancy's Tomb
- Chapter 23: The End of Runeforge
- Chapter 30: The Fall of Karzoug

And now, to see what other gods and monsters will stand in their way as they seek the lost gate of Xin-Shalast.

Rebirth in The Mountains

As the Companions gathered round the body of their slain friend Ivory, they felt resolve grow afresh in their hearts. Not only that, but as they retreated into the abandoned mine for shelter from the cold, they found something on her person. A scroll written in a flowing, celestial hand containing a spell that could resurrect one who had only been gone a brief time. Without hesitation Mirelinda unfurled the scroll, and performed the rite as soon as she was certain she understood it.

"In case of emergency." Well, this seems like the appropriate time...

As the complex ritual flowed off Mirelinda's tongue, the wind outside died. It was as if the frozen valley were holding its breath, waiting to see what would happen. A light began to glow, and to swell, filling the small space with a feeling of warmth, and comfort. A feeling that a great door to a realm of enjoyment was being opened, and someone was leaving once more. Then Ivory sat up, coughing and shivering, cold for the first time in months as she worked circulation back into her body.

She thanked the others for their effort, but suggested that in future encounters they exercise a little more caution. Her contingencies were finite, after all.

Guardians of The Gate

Once they'd rested, and felt reasonably certain that the immediate danger has passed, the Companions returned to the trail. In the day or so since the demise of the Wendigo the surrounding countryside had already begun to scrub away the stain of its presence. Tentative birds were returning, and though still cold, the biting wind had ceased. A curious deer walked along a far slope, as if scouting to see where the change in the air came from.

As the Companions crossed into a cleft between two cliffs, they found a small, hidden valley. A place that had the warmth of a hot spring, and where birds and beasts had come to take refuge. There was fear, but also curiosity... as if something else were watching behind their eyes. It was when the Companions reached a pool, and saw a creature splash out of it that they knew who commanded this place... though not what she wanted.

There you are... what took you so long?

The nymph who watched over the grove was curious to see who it was that had broken the grip of the hungering horror on her mountains, and to see what she could do to repay those bold enough to face it down. When she recognized the Companions as those who had helped her cousin, who had gone mad over the loss of her lover near the Black Arrows' fortress, she was doubly pleased to have them as guests.

When she was told they sought Xin-Shalast, though, she grew somewhat grave. Frost giants had been coming through the ancient gates, kidnapping people and dragging them back through. None of them had been seen again after they were taken. Worse, an ancient shadow still lurked in that pass. A wyrm whose name was so old that most texts of the modern age had never recorded it at all.

Thok and Chikara took to the undergrowth soon after, vanishing into the hills to see what they would have to pass to enter Xin-Shalast. What they found was nearly a dozen frost giants milling around, with a small village of recently taken hostages who bore the cast of Kellids. Many of the frost giants were branded with the old runes of power. Not only that, but there were great beasts walled in ice who had massive chunks bitten from them. Chunks that had been taken in a single mouthful by something that had survived the changing of aeons, and which bore scars from the time of the Runelords' ascendancy.

No Chains, No Slavers

No sooner did Thok and Chikara return with word of what they'd seen than the other Companions readied themselves to move out. They could wait, and sneak in on the heels of the giants, but there were innocents being forced into lives of servitude for the most debased of wizards. Their stealth was not worth a cost that high.

While even one sits in chains, none are truly free.

The Companions approached boldly, making no secret of themselves. Upon seeing such little mortals, the frost giants took up their defensive positions atop the mountain, and began flinging stones. Several fell wide of the mark, but one of them struck Thok in the head. Blood ran down his face, and with the blood came a cold fury the slayer rarely displayed. He loosed an arrow that took the rock thrower in the eye, the air around the giant's head freezing to droplets of snow with the impact from the enchanted bow.

Zhakar raised his burning sword with a mighty battle cry, and the light that burned within him went chill, and bleak. It pulsed from him like a shield, protecting those who sheltered within it. And not a moment too soon, for it had barely flicked into existence before the great, white beast fell from behind the clouds, frost burning from its maw and hammering down upon the Companions. Though chilled, their fast reflexes and Zhakar's shield managed to blunt the worst of the monster's breath.

Chaos ensued. Mirelinda took shelter beneath overhanging rocks, attempting to speed the others with one spell, and then to open chasms beneath the frost giants with the next. Chikara tensed and leaped, bounding from one stone to another, roaring as she brought down her ax like thunder upon the giants who stood before her. Zhakar took to the air, hoping to draw the dragon to him. Below, Thok reached into a special pocket on his quiver and slipped out a pair of arrows they had taken from the last dragon who had attacked them. Arrows that had once belonged to a dragon slayer, and which had lost none of their potency.

As the dragon came around for another attack, Thok loosed the arrows. The first hit cleanly, smashing through the wyrm's protections and embedding itself in its chest directly over its heart. As it roared, rearing back its head, Zhakar let forth the beam of fire from the flametongue in his hand, using the arrow's fletching as his place to aim. The fire ate through the frost wyrm's defenses, blackening and charring its flesh. The creature belched ice, flagging as it tried to turn, fire melting its guts. Before it could flee, Thok nocked the other arrow, and let fly. It caught the wyrm in the throat, and it tumbled from the sky, its blood freezing into hail as it dug a new trench in the valley floor.

A Small Change That May Mark an Avalanche

Though several of the frost giants were dead, several others fled into a great cavern. Something howled in its depths, as if there was more than a hole in the earth beyond. One frost giant remained, his ax on the ground, prostrating himself for mercy.

"The tales are true," he rumbled, fear and awe mixing in his voice. "They did not believe, but I knew one day you would come for us."

You know you've made it when giants take you seriously.

Zhakar looked at their captive, and into him. He bore no marks of the Runelords' control, nor did he have the twisted soul of an evil creature. Many captives, once freed, said that he had treated them fairly, if not kindly, and that he had been hurt by his companions for it.

"Would you take service, and embrace a new path?" Zhakar asked.

"You have only to name it," the giant said.

"You are Shepherd, now," Zhakar said, touching the giant upon the brow with his left hand, healing the wounds he had sustained. "Tonight we shall rest here, and upon the morrow you will escort your small brothers and sisters south. There is a vale held by a nymph where they can rest. From there, help them find their way home once more."

"And... and what of you?" the giant now called Shepherd asked.

The Companions looked at the cavern. It seemed to suck at the air and the light, eating at the world around it. The howl was filled with greed and darkness, and it made the skin pebble with discomfort and wariness.

"We will go to Xin-Shalast," Zhakar said. "And if we must, raze it to its foundations."

Next Time on Table Talk!

We have entered the final book of the campaign! Will the Companions overturn the corrupt rule of Karzoug, or will they succumb to the temptations of green and power? Will they destroy Xin-Shalast, or will they find something inside it that can undo the damage wrought by its keeper? Stay tuned, and I'll see you next time on Table Talk!

For more of my work, check out my Vocal archives, as well as the YouTube channel Dungeon Keeper Radio where I help out from time to time. Or, to check out books like my sword and sorcery novel Crier's Knife or my recent short story collection The Rejects, head over to My Amazon Author Page!

To stay on top of all my latest releases, follow me on FacebookTumblr, and Twitter, as well as on Pinterest where I'm building all sorts of boards dedicated to my books, RPG supplements, and greatest hits. Lastly, to help support me and my work, consider Buying Me A Ko-Fi, or heading over to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to become a regular, monthly patron! Even a little donation can have a big impact.