Showing posts with label Varisia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Varisia. Show all posts

Sunday, January 27, 2019

Rise of The Runelords Chapter 11: The Crumbling Tower

After uncovering a cult of madmen, and finding their leader was a prominent judge in Magnimar, our heroes might be in hot water. If they can stop the cult's plans before they come to fruition, though, they may find themselves on the right side of the law when all is said and done. Can they do it in time?

If you're just now joining us, here's what's happened up till this point.

- 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 do our heroes do, surrounded by bodies and spattered with blood? They do the natural thing, of course... seek out the mayor.

A Moment of Your Time, Lord Mayor?


Leaving the scene locked behind them, our heroes made their way into the more opulent district of Magnimar's social "servants," including the offices of the Lord Mayor. With a few deft words from Zordlan and Zhakar, they quickly found themselves standing in front of the jovial, though perplexed, mayor. Curious as to what would prompt such a motley band to be standing in front of his desk, he lit his pipe and asked them the nature of their business.

Please, make yourselves comfortable in my humble offices.
In response, Zordlan produced a letter found among Judge Ironbriar's possessions. A letter specifically mentioning that the Lord Mayor was the next target of the cult's assassination plans, and that they have a means of tracking the head of the order and preventing their attempt on the mayor's life. All he needs to do is to provide Zordlan and his companions with a writ, and to give them the next day or so to handle this problem for him. No city funds need be accepted, no questions need be asked.

Though he blustered about protocol and procedure, such things seemed much less important when it was his own life on the line. Providing the writ, he left with the group, taking care to avoid windows as much as possible while informing his secretary he was going to call it an early day. Appointments should be moved to the following morning, pending the outcome of a matter of importance.

Into The Shadow, as The Pigeon Flies


With the mayor's endorsement, the party returned to the mill. The machinery was silenced, and no recently resurrected men leaped at them from the shadows. Above the room where Ironbriar's cooling corpse sat in a drying puddle of its own blood, there was a coop. Taking a bird, the party gently carried it down to the street. Then they mounted, and released it.

Fly, you glorious plot fowl!
The pigeon made its way to Underbridge, fluttering onto the top floor of the leaning tower that nearly pressed up into the underside of the Irespan. A rickety and uncertain structure, there was no telling what awaited them inside... or even if the building itself would withstand a battle in its upper stretches. Though there was a gate on the ground floor, that seemed too obvious. There was a window half a dozen stories up, but even from where they were they could tell it was barred.

Drawing a wand from his bandolier, Zordlan crouched and tapped Bostwick's feet with it. Zhakar drew the dull gray longsword from his hip, and handed it to his small-sized companion. Bostwick scrambled up the wall, with a knotted coil of rope at his hip. Though the bars on the window were firmly stuck, the adamantine blade sliced through them like spun sugar. Bostwick slipped through, secured the grappling hook, and tossed down the rope.

Keeping an eye on the roof, as well as on the street, his companions followed. The stairs sagged beneath Thok's weight, and they quickly staggered themselves out wider to reduce the stress on the wood. With a flight or more of space between them, and lightly armored as they were, they managed to begin the ascent with relative stealth.

When one of the bells fell from the tower, clearly aimed at two of the companions, that was when they knew the element of surprise had been lost.

The Lady of The Tower


Though the ascent was dangerous, all of them gained the top of the tower without injury. They found themselves face-to-face, so to speak, with more of the faceless assassins they'd squared off with back at the Foxglove town home. The creatures fell without so much as a cry, twitching as their ichor dripped through the floorboards.

Past these guards the heroes found the second coop of pigeons that had been sending messages... and they found the individual behind the assassination attempts. It was not exactly what they expected.

And who are you to enter my domain?
The creature that signed itself Xanesha on its letters was curled round a plinth, looking down on the mortals who had tracked her to her home. She did not ask who they were, or why they had come to her. Such things were beneath her concern. She merely lashed out with her magic, intending to slay those who thought themselves her equal.

Thok leaped aside, his eyes narrowing as he took in the sinuous movement of the matriarch, and the way her armor seemed to glide with her. Zhakar raised his right arm, shielding himself from the worse of her spell. As arrows flew, and Zordlan slipped another wand from his hip, it was Bostwick who leaped onto her perch. With a focused shout, he drive his fist into the creature's side just below her armpit. Her breath caught in her throat, and the wicked-looking spear tumbled from her grip. She fell, stunned, to the ground.

It was their chance. Zordlan rushed forward, snatching the spear from the ground and hurling it over the side of the tower, his hands stinging from even that brief contact with the weapon. Thok charged forward, his spear leaping into his hand as he drove it into the creature's flesh. Zhakar wasn't far behind, his short blade slicing into her side. Then, just as it seemed she might rise, Bostwick leaped from above, slamming into her, leaving her stunned once more.

Before she could rise again, the light in her eyes was doused by cold steel.

What Else Is There?


With the creature that called itself Xanesha slain, and the back of the Skinsaw cult broken, Magnimar seemed safe. The machinations were brought to an end, and the head seemed to have been cut off the serpent, so to speak. But is there more lying in wait for the heroes of Sandpoint? And when it comes, what form will it take?

Tune in for the next installment of Table Talk to find out!

For more of my work, check out Vocal, Gamers, and the YouTube channel Dungeon Keeper Radio! If you're looking for some books to add to your shelf, you could also stop in at My Amazon Author Page where you'll find reads like my sword and sorcery novel Crier's Knife.

To stay on top of all my latest updates, follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter. And if you'd like to help support me then Buy Me A Ko-Fi, or go to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to become a patron today! Trust me, every little bit helps.
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Friday, November 30, 2018

Rise of The Runelords Chapter 9: Fox in The Hen House

The undead are roaming Sandpoint's countryside, threatening not just the town, but also their ability to feed themselves. If the ghouls aren't killed soon, and the ghast that created them stopped, then it could spiral out of control to threaten Magnimar, Riddleport, and the other prominent cities of Varisia. It was after slaying a pack of the creatures that our heroes found a key... a key that might unlock what's been going on out in the farmlands.

If you need to get up to speed, the previous installments include:

- 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

Caught up? Lovely! Because today our heroes get to the heart of the matter with...

The Horror At Foxglove Manor


Foxglove Manor, an aging mansion down a narrow and twisting walk from Sandpoint, was the ancestral home of the Foxgloves. Aldern, though, barely went there at all (or so he'd told the heroes when they rescued him), and spent most of his time in Magnimar. When they approached the house, it was easy to see why he preferred the city life.

"Haunted?" Haunted. "Weapons?" Weapons.
Foxglove Manor, a sagging edifice looming over a cliff face like it was considering jumping, reeked of the haunted, and the unnatural. The front door yielded, the lock recently oiled, but inside the smell of decay, and a kind of sweet corruption, hung in the air. Tapestries moldered on the walls, the boards threatened to give way underfoot, and it seemed like whispers shushed from every darkened room.

The house knew they were inside, and it was not pleased.

The manor seemed a thing alive, haunted by a thousand little furies. A stuffed firepelt cougar that seemed alive, but which hadn't moved at all after Mirelinda blinked at it. A portrait above the fire that seemed to wail sorrowfully, making Zhakar's cursed right hand clench. A woman's scarf that rose from a chair to try to strangle Thokk. Enemies not of flesh and blood, but of malicious spirit flooded the place as murders of crows gathered about the eaves.

As they went room to room, they began to build a picture of what had happened at Foxglove Manor. They found symbols of an esoteric order related to a strange, 7-pointed star. They also found hidden keys that led to a basement replete with arcane and alchemical workings. Someone, likely a previous generation of the Foxgloves, had tried to conquer death by mixing the draught to become a lich. They failed... but perhaps not entirely. Their soul lingered, after a fashion, in the very stones and wood of the house. Turning the crumbling manse into a kind of phylactery.

But worse things were found below.

Down In The Depths


Beneath the basement of Foxglove Manor there was a hole that led to a tidal cave. Though the cavern was filled with terrible creatures, including several more ghouls, it was what lurked at the bottom of the spiral stone walkway that was truly a horror. Aldern Foxglove, dressed in ragged finery, and whispering to himself at a fever pitch as he stared at his sallow reflection in a huge, polished war razor.

When he turned and saw Mirelinda, though, a change came over him. His eyes went black, and his tongue lolled obscenely from his expanding jaw. His teeth, cracked and filed to daggers, clacked, and he advanced, taking on the form of a full, mad ghast.

Undeath is not kind to the sanity of those afflicted.
While his obsession with Mirelinda was enough to drive his mad mind to the brink of collapse, the presence of such an anathema brought something out in Zhakar. That white light began to shine from his eyes once more, and the skin around those glowing orbs began to crack and flake away, revealing the gleam of steel beneath. He gripped his sword more tightly, and it burst into black flames. He closed with the creature, standing between the thing that Aldern had become, and Mirelinda. The ghast snarled and lashed out, but Zhakar turned aside his razors with his gauntlet, and the creature's teeth scraped against the steel beneath his skin. It raged and howled, slashing in a frenzy, but Zhakar barely seemed to notice as he stood his ground.

The creature's forward momentum halted, Thokk charged into its flank, driving his spear hard against it. The ghast seemed to dance away, the cuts barely harming its undead flesh. Zordlan hurtled a wing-backed chair trying to take the ghast in the flank. It hissed, snarling as it tried to dodge aside from yet another blade. There was only one of him, though, and every time Zhakar drove his longsword home, the cuts burned and bled with ichor. Aldern stepped away, trembling, and falling to his knees. He panted, and begged for mercy. He seemed, for just a moment, to be himself again. But then the madness that had consumed him reared up once more, and he surged to his feet with a roar of mad laughter.

Three blades that had been lowered pierced his heart, and left the ghast dead on the floor.

There was something else in that cavern, though. A strange, man-shaped patch of mold along one wall. It smelled... wrong. Worse, it reeked of disease, and wickedness. The remains of Aldern's elder, the ghost in the foundations, couldn't reach out and hurt those who had slain Aldern... but it couldn't be simply wiped away with holy water. It would need to be exorcised... something none present could do.

They found one other thing, as well. A letter from a mysterious contact in Magnimar. She spoke of pacts, of deeds, and of the seven-pointed star. They would need to venture south for aid in order to purify Foxglove Manor, but while they were there it seemed there would be other business to attend to as well. Business that simply could not wait if they were to get to the heart of who had unleased the undead plague on Sandpoint.

What lurked in the shadows of Magnimar? Tune-in for the next Table Talk installment to find out!

For more articles by yours truly, check out my Vocal page, or go to my Gamers archive to see only my tabletop stuff. You should also swing by the YouTube page Dungeon Keeper Radio, where I get together with other gamers to make videos for dungeon masters and players alike!

To stay on top of all my new releases, follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter. If you'd like to support me, consider Buying Me A Ko-Fi, or going to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to become a patron. Or, if you're looking for a new book, you could head over to My Amazon Author Page where you can buy books like my sword and sorcery novel Crier's Knife!
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Saturday, June 16, 2018

Rise of The Runelords Chapter Three: The Sin Pit

When last we left our intrepid adventurers. Thok and Zhakar had delved into the glassworks, and saved Ameiko from the clutches of her scheming half-brother. There is more going on in the depths of the glassworks, though, and for that these two mysterious strangers will need the full strength of their allies.

For those who aren't caught up yet, previous chapters can be found 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

What lies in the darkness below Sandpoint? We're about to find out.

What Lies Beneath


Once Tsuto was remanded to the custody of Sheriff Hemlock, and Ameiko placed in the care of Father Zanthus for healing, Zhakar and Thok sought their allies to deal with the greater potential threat. They found Zordlan in the common room of the Rusty Dragon, and Mirelinda near the wagons haggling over a trinket. When they saw the looks on the two warriors' faces, both the elf and the Varisian knew something dire was afoot.

Though what it was, they could not have guessed.
They formed up, and told Sheriff Hemlock where they were going. The suggested that guards should keep an eye on the glassworks, and make sure that nothing slipped past them into Sandpoint. Then, shields strapped and weapons ready, they descended into the glassworks' basement, and then into the tunnel that had been bricked over in the depths. Beyond it they found rough stone work, but it quickly gave way to ancient halls that bore a strong resemblance to the Thassalonian ruins that dotted the Varisian countryside.

These were no ruins, though. These halls had been preserved for centuries, lurking just out of sight below the prosperous town above. They didn't smell right, though. Something was alive in those tunnels... something foul, and hostile.

The Slaves of Sin


Stepping round a corner, a creature the likes of which they had never seen leaped forward to attack. It was malformed, its too-long limbs covered with ropy cords of muscle and tipped with vicious claws. There was no intelligence in its black gaze... just an atavistic rage that could not be quenched by anything short of violence.

A meal we were more than prepared to feed it.
The thing raked its claws down Zhakar's arm, drawing blood and curses. Thok, thinking quickly, thrust his spear over his friend's shoulder and jammed it into the creature's side. It had no interest in death, though, snarling, clawing, and biting at the pair of warriors. Zhakar managed to catch its next blow on his gauntlet, driving a hammer blow into the creature's face. It was Zordlan, though, who tumbled past the creature, and thrusting his rapier into its back. It gave up its awful vitality, and slumped forward, black blood pooling on the ground.

Shaken, but knowing there must be greater dangers beyond, they stepped deeper into the forgotten halls. Though there were other creatures like the one near the entrance, there weren't many. They came across an ancient statue holding a ranseur of masterful quality, a room filled with pits containing the living dead, and a mutated goblin overseer caring for them. They also found carvings of a three-eyed jackal head... the sign of Lamashtu, the mother of monsters.

The Wellspring of Wickedness


In the depths of the lost halls, they found a font of unholy water that smelled of brackish afterbirth, and a pair of double doors marked with the sign of the demonic mother. There was no choice but to see what lay beyond, and to do their best to slay it.

Past the sign of Lamashtu there was a cavernous room, with a pair of curving stairs leading up to a balcony. Atop the balcony was a bizarre bowl filled with swirling liquids. And above that bowl, leathery wings flapping and its tail thrashing, was an imp. It whirled on the interlopers, and smiled a razor-toothed smile. It hadn't been expecting them, but that didn't mean it hadn't been prepared for unwelcome company.

Even in hell, there is hospitality.
The imp drew a tiny dagger, sliced open its palm, and dripped its ichor into the strange bowl. Then, as the heroes of Sandpoint looked on, something crawled out of the bowl. One of the creatures they had seen below, with its mouthful of teeth and eyes brimming with rage. They were spawned from this strange item, and from the foulness of the tiny fiend's blood. Sword in hand, Zhakar rushed the stairs, Thok no more than a step behind. Zordlan sprinted up the other side, trying to reach the imp before it could escape. Just as they came within striking range, though, it vanished with a dark little chuckle.

Unsure where their true enemy was, Zhakar and Zordlan flanked the sin spawn, hacking it to pieces before it could reach their allies. Mirelinda shrieked, drawing their attention to the base of the stairs. A man-sized spider had appeared from thin air, scuttling toward her. Thok turned, howling in a combination of rage and disgust, slamming his spear through the thing's side. It gnashed its fangs at him, trying to crawl around his flank, but he was having none of it. Above them rang laughter as the imp admired its handiwork.

Zhakar stood at the balcony, staring at the infernal creature. As he watched, something flared behind his eyes. He laid aside his sword, shrugged his bow off his shoulder, and nocked an arrow. When he loosed, the imp's laughter turned to shrieks, the arrow piercing through its protections and raining its blood down upon the steps. It swore, and lashed back at Zhakar, belting him with a beam of crackling black energy. Though his knees tried to buckle, Zhakar braced himself on the balustrade, and continued firing.

Mirelinda backed up the stairs, spouting words of power and sending balls of force streaking toward the little devil. Zordlan took aim, but drew little blood as the thing's thick hide turned aside his arrows. Thok drove his spear through the spider's maw, piercing straight through its gullet and sending it back to wherever it had been summoned from. The imp's wounds, many of which seemed grievous, began to close. Zhakar reached for an arrow with his gauntleted right hand, but rather than nocking another shaft, his hand drew a vicious short spear instead. With a surge of strength, he hurled the spear, slamming it straight through the imp's heart. It shrieked, and flew apart, the shattered, smoky remnants each being sucked back to the hell that had spawned it.

A Plan Unearths


Just as the goblins were not the only threat to Sandpoint, the imp was merely a single piece in the ongoing chess game. But where were the more powerful pieces? And who was playing this game with the townsfolk's lives? Stay tuned to find out in the next chapter.

That's all for this installment of Table Talk. If you've got a gaming story of your own that you'd like to share, feel free to reach out and let me know! For more of my work, please check out my Vocal archive, or stop by the YouTube channel Dungeon Keeper Radio where I help out. To stay on top of all my releases, follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter. Lastly, if you'd like to help support my work so I can keep getting content right to you, then go to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to become a patron, or just Buy Me A Ko-Fi. It really helps, and any support you can give is highly appreciated!
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Friday, January 8, 2016

The Saga of Majenko Part 9: The Assault on Castle Korvosa

We're finally creeping up on the climax of this sordid tale of bloodshed and betrayal! If you've enjoyed it so far, then please leave some comments, and share it with your friends. If you're just now joining us, don't worry, the previous eight installments of this telling of Curse of The Crimson Throne are linked below for your convenience.

Part One: Finding The Main Character of "Curse of The Crimson Throne"
Part Two: How Much Damage Could One Pseudodragon Do?
Part Three: Scourge of The Red Mantis
Part Four: Blood Pig Champion
Part Five: Brother to The Shoanti
Part Six: The Assault on Castle Scarwall
Part Seven: The Return to Korvosa
Part Eight: Re-Taking Korvosa
Part Nine: The Assault on Castle Korvosa
Part Ten: Down With The Queen

All caught up now? Fantastic! Now then, let me see, where were we...

Fake High

As any experienced gamer worth his or her salt can tell you, nothing changes the game more than the ability to fly. And since our aerial assault on Castle Scarwall had gone so smashingly in the last book, we decided to fall back on our old tricks and fly up to the top floor of Castle Korvosa.

After casting invisibility. We're reckless, not stupid.
The castle's attic is oddly abandoned, used for little more than storage. However, after some handy Perception checks, one of them made by the party's true leader and actual rogue, we find the ghost of a tiefling being kept in the attic. Apparently his body was hidden somewhere in the dungeons, and to grant him peace we need to find it. Seems legit, and something we should have plenty of time to handle in between swinging the hammer to bring down the city's powerful monarchy.

So, grisly task from an unquiet spirit collected and filed away, we make our way down a floor, and fight some devils. Once that errand is complete, we take another flight of stairs down, expecting to finally find that overdue helping of trouble we've been waiting for. Instead, we run into...

The Return of The Red Mantis!


Yep, one floor down, taking up a combination luxury penthouse suite and wicked dance club, were more of the insect-imitating assassins who had been dogging us for several books now. However, instead of just sending a few underlings, as they had in the past, this time they brought one of their captains with them.

Oooh, I'm shaking in my stinger... with excitement!
The is the first, real taste of combat our archanist has gotten, and it doesn't go well for him. Instead of letting Egil and Majenko do their thing (between the two of them, the red mantis underlings were little more than puppies, since they couldn't catch us flat-footed, nor could they sneak attack us), the arcanist decides to run into the mix, and start kicking open doors. This got him a kidney full of saw-toothed saber, though he managed to teleport himself out of harm's way with a cleverly used class feature. What he didn't do was heal himself. Instead, he chose to keep kicking in doors, which earned him a saber up the briscuit from the invisible captain.

So, the arcanist is out, and now the game has gotten serious. Sort of.

That's when Majenko decides to stop faffing about, and the rest of the standard red mantis members go down, either in death or in sleep. Egil steps up to try and face off with the Captain, and our cleric starts calling in assistance from the heavens above. The Captain summons creatures of her own, including some particularly nasty swarms. While she's fast, and hard to hit, a lucky shot here and there began to chip away at her. Before we can deal the deathblow, though, she manages to escape. Disappointed, and more than a little frustrated, we bundle up our dead companion, and Majenko scratches a message into the glass pane of the parlor wall.

You've already lost 11. Run now, and I won't chase you.

Infiltrate Low


After some begging, we manage to return our erstwhile arcanist to the Material Plane. And, knowing that our entrance from above must have been spotted, we decide to go in low for our second attack. You see, there's a secret passage Sabina told us about that will let us infiltrate right to the throne room if we're careful.

What could possibly go wrong?
True to her word, the passage is there. We slip in stealthily, and it appears the coast is clear. At least until the party gets blasted into next week! The arcanist is dead, Majenko has been turned to stone, Egil is insane, and the only one totally unaffected by what happened is the cleric. In the corner, where he had been lurking unseen to us, is the Bloat Mage. An evoker of terrible power, it's clear we won't be able to survive another round of his power unleashed.

Fortunately, the cleric has friends in high places. With a bit of inter-dimensional support, and a breath of life, she manages to get the arcanist back to life. Spells are flying, and soon the magus is back from the land of the mad. However, given that his familiar has been turned into a lawn decoration, he is far from pleased. Which is why he uses every trick he has to try to bring down the Bloat Mage. Continuing the pattern, though, the fat, floating bastard manages to escape. So we retreat again, noses bloodied, to repair our wounds and heal our allies.

No More Nice Party


It's around this time that the arcanist, whose chief job seems to be to get killed, decides to aid the revolution in other ways. He is replaced by a paladin, who is so by-the-book that his name has managed to evade mention in the annals of his own adventures. So, beefed-up and ready to stop pulling punches, we head back to the castle for another crack, though we are wondering why, at this point, there has been so little alarm raised. The castle has been penetrated twice by known heroes of the rebellion, and not so much as a whisper?

That should have been the first clue that shit wasn't right.
We find, much to our pleasure, that the Red Mantis haven't returned. However, we do find a strange statue that wants to eat us, along with a room full of Erinyes who try to turn us into unwilling pincushions. A little lower down, we find a full contingent of Gray Maidens in the throne room, along with what looks like the queen, getting ready for a throw down.

We quickly realize that what we're looking at is not as threatening as it at first appeared. The Gray Maidens, while highly trained and dangerous, don't have the resources to truly penetrate much of our defenses. And while the thing that looks like the queen is effective, its efforts are quickly nullified by a Silence spell. It turns into a puddle of slimy goo, and we deal with the guards, who refuse to stop fighting even though they've clearly lost this battle.

Of course, there are larger forces at work than we know. Such as the infernal creature lurking in the queen's bedroom, along with a rested and rejuvenated Bloat Mage, ready to give us everything he can.

The Power of Mind Control


Enchantment and compulsion are nasty things, particularly when most of the party succumbs to them. After the first two or three rounds, the paladin, the cleric, and Majenko all decided that it would be a better idea to report to their superiors about the presence of this awful thing than to actually fight it. While a dispell managed to keep Majenko on the scene, the brunt of our divine power just walked off the field. Fortunately, Balen was crazy even for a ranger, and charged right in to get some devil-slaying done.

It goes a lot better than expected, and soon the only threat left in the room is the evoker. He pulls the same trick he did before, and Majenko is turned to stone a second time. This wrings the last drop of what mercy Egil had left, and he pours all his remaining arcana, rogue tricks, and not-inconsiderable stock of wands into the mage's demise. It's a near thing, but when he can't escape the area of the silence effect, his head gets cut off by a dramatically-timed critical hit.

The Aftermath


With the cleric and paladin ashamed of their unwilling abandonment, we take the evoker's head back to our allies. While Majenko is still coughing out gravel from his second transformation back to flesh, we find out that the Bloat Mage had been enslaved to the devil. We also realize, thanks to some texts we located, that the queen is not in the castle, and hasn't been for some time. She's seeking a forgotten temple, where she'll be making a play for terrible power. And, while we need to stop that, we have one more errand to do first.

To find out how this game ended, tune in next time for the final installment, The Saga of Majenko: The Queen's Justice!

As always, thanks for joining me for Table Talk! If you have a gaming story of your own that you'd like to contribute, then contact me and I'll be happy to chat with you about it. If you'd like to help support me and my blog, then consider heading over to my Patreon page to become a patron today! Also, if you don't want to miss any of my updates, be sure to follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter as well.
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Friday, December 4, 2015

The Saga of Majenko Part Eight: Re-Taking Korvosa

Curse of The Crimson Throne is one of the older adventure paths Paizo put out, but that doesn't make it any less fun. Especially if you managed to rescue the main character, and turn him loose on the rest of the plot! We're nearing the end of this epic saga, and this week I relate how our heroes took back the streets of Varisia's capital city.

Also, here are the previous installments, in case you want to catch yourself up.
Part One: Finding The Main Character of "Curse of The Crimson Throne"
Part Two: How Much Damage Could One Pseudodragon Do?
Part Three: Scourge of The Red Mantis
Part Four: Blood Pig Champion
Part Five: Brother to The Shoanti
Part Six: The Assault on Castle Scarwall
Part Seven: The Return to Korvosa
Part Eight: Re-Taking Korvosa
Part Nine: The Assault on Castle Korvosa
Part Ten: Down With The Queen

And now, without further ado...

Re-Taking Korvosa!


So, our team of adventurers returned from Scarwall with a relic of the goddess Iomedae, ready to take on the thing the queen had become. We found the city had been placed firmly under the monarch's boot heel, and her personal army of Gray Maidens prowl the city streets. We were accosted by thugs, "saved" by the new hero of the city, and then we found out to the surprise of no one that the supposed hero was, in fact, an efreet meant to distract the people of the city to keep them complacent. We survived that fight, panting and sweating, but relatively whole.

That was when the DM threw a dragon at us.

The actual fight is on page 176 of the Core Rulebook.
Here we are, walking off a big battle and trying to re-calculate our odds of successfully assaulting the castle, when out of the sky comes a savage-looking black dragon. As if dealing with a black dragon assault in the street isn't bad enough, it's being ridden by a gray maiden. So, round one starts, we all ready our weapons of choice, and that's when we need to make Will saves versus the dragon fear.

Guess who had rogue saves?

And who remembers which rogue saves are weak?
So Majenko, seeing that we obviously don't need any help here, rockets off to a rooftop, putting a sturdy chimney between himself and the mostly feral monster he shares some genetic ties with. Egil Manages to land a blow, and to get through the spell resistance, while the arcanist starts blasting, and the cleric summons a celestial ally. Said celestial ally also decides we can handle this, and flies away to join Majenko, where the two of them have coffee and talk about how they wouldn't want to show us up by taking out that creature that totally doesn't terrify them.

That's when the battle takes a turn for the unexpected. The rider dismounts, draws her falchion, and starts attacking her mount! That's when we realize that Sabina Merrin, the queen's personal bodyguard and rumored lover, has just mysteriously switched sides. While the dragon is flailing and gnashing, we manage to slay it with the aid of our new friend, at which point we run down the nearest alley, and use a scroll of mage's magnificent manor to lie low, heal, and replenish ourselves after the two unexpected ambushes we've survived. Once the dragon is dead, Majenko settles back onto his perch on Egil's shoulder as if nothing had happened.

Majenko The Grief Counselor?


We step into the palatial dimension, bind our wounds, and hand our equipment off to the invisible servants for cleaning and polishing. We eat, and as we eat, Sabina tells us her story. She and the queen were lovers, back when the queen was still a mortal woman. Before the crown of Kasavon's fangs had taken over her mind, and tainted her soul. From that point onward Sabina was tossed aside, given duties that made it impossible for her to escape, and even having her influence over the Gray Maidens transferred to more hard-line loyalists. In time, Sabina was tethered to the hateful brute that was her mount, her safety not even an afterthought to the woman who'd once claimed to love her.

Wow... that's harsh.
This is an awkward situation for our party to be in. We have a cynical tiefling cop, a battle cleric who finds her comfort in armor and doctrine, and a pretty selfish arcanist who doesn't quite get non-elf problems. Balen is Balen. We just barely got over treating a potential enemy as a new ally, and none of us are prepared to help her deal with her grief, as well as the awful stress of being kept prisoner in a role she once took pride in.

Well, except Majenko.

The rest of us went off to recuperate, heal, take long baths, sleep, and re-memorize our spells. We gear up, come downstairs, and Majenko is sitting at the table with Sabina. There are cherry pits and crumbles of chocolate, as well as what look like the dregs of ice cream. He's patting her hand and saying that it's going to be fine. He's sure there are plenty of nice ladies in Korvosa, and once we're done with the revolution she can find someone and settle down. He also insists that she come and visit him and Aeofa, and meet their clutch. The babies are adorable, and they could use some exposure to people, since they'll need to learn to deal with them sooner or later.

Minutes before the spell wears off, we step back into the dingy, dirty alleyway. The dragon's corpse is gone, of course, and the street is totally dead. Deciding that it's a good idea to regroup before assaulting the castle, especially if there are more ambushes waiting for us, we sneak our way back to the Gray District. We present our new ally, who in turn offers to lead a raid on the prison/training facility where the gray maidens are all given their unique facial scars, and undergo all their other procedures. Before she leaves, Sabina also tells us about a secret way into the castle.

We part company, and decide it's time to beard Kasavon in his own, stolen den.

Will our heroes succeed? Find out next time on The Saga of Majenko: Showdown in Castle Korvosa! If you want to stay up on all my updates, then follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter, and if you'd like to help support my blog, then stop by my Patreon page and consider becoming a patron today!
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