Rise of The Runelords Chapter 21: Storming The Halls of Evocation

Though the gates were guarded by a fell dragon, as well as ancient stone golems, the Companions found their way within the Runeforge. A place thought lost to myths and legends, containing some of the most brilliant and blasphemous works of arcane magic the world had ever seen. A place of danger, to be sure, but perhaps the one place they could find what they need to end the threat of Karzoug.

For those who haven't caught up on this adventure yet, check out the previous chapters 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 24: Preparation For The Final Journey 

- Chapter 25: The Hunger in The Mountains 

- Chapter 26: The Gateway to Xin-Shalast

- Chapter 27: The Path of Temptation

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

- Chapter 29: Crossing The Barrier of Greed

- Chapter 30: The Fall of Karzoug

Now, into the depths of the Runeforge!

A Strange Place, Unseen in Centuries

Well we're here... now what?

Entering the Runeforge, the Companions found themselves in a large, central chamber. A strange fountain of prismatic energy flowed, casting lights onto the stone faces of the statues of the Runelords. Each stood before a hallway that appeared dedicated to their sin and magical school of choice. There were no indications as to where Runeforged weapons might lie, or even if there was anyone else in this ancient plane of existence, separate and apart from the material realm.

After some debate, and with nothing rushing toward them from the depths of the Runeforge to challenge their presence, the Companions decided the most likely place to find a weapon was in the section dedicated to evocation. So, arms at the ready, they headed off to see what they might find.

Storming The Halls of War

The first thing the Companions found, other than perfectly smooth halls, was a massive entryway with a huge statue atop a stone outcropping. It looked like some sort of construct, inactive for now, watching over the room. Bostwick was the first to step into the open space, triggering a blaring alarm, and making the sentry guardian shiver to life.

Well, it noticed us. Evasive maneuvers!

The golem turned, took aim, and fired, sending massive projectiles ripping through the air. Zhakar unfurled his wings, drawing the flametongue he'd taken from the dragon's hoard and blasting the sentry with a bolt of fire. The golem re-oriented its cannon, drawing a bead on the winged figure as Chikara loosed an arrow. The crackling shaft smashed into the golem, leaving it jittering and slow to fire. In attempting to defend Zhakar, she'd discovered the thing's weakness to electricity.

Bostwick rushed the plinth, scrambling up the wall and laying into the machine with hammer blows from his tiny fists, each one dancing with electrical sparks. Thok loosed one arrow after another, before Zhakar swooped down, clasped his friend's arm, and dropped him atop the outcropping where Thok could use his spear on the guardian. Drawing its fire from the air, the thing was quickly overwhelmed, and outmatched, unable to focus through the storm of blows. Whatever force powered it overheated, and it crumbled, it's legs buckling, and its arms clanging as they fell to the floor.

Though the chance for surprise was clearly gone, the Companions had no choice but to move forward... and to hope the other defenses were human rather than automated, so they could perhaps find a diplomatic solution to their situation.

Beyond the shattered hulk, they found a strange portal. Deciding there was no other way forward, they stepped through it. As before, Bostwick went first, which was fortunate as the formation of sorcerous soldiers who'd drawn up in firing formation loosed their spells at the first enemy to come through. Protected by his sheer resistance to magical energies, not a single projectile managed to land a blow against the small monk. As the others came through, and stared at the force arrayed against them, they knew that peace would not be an option.

They also saw that every, single wizard was the same man. Half a dozen of them, as alike as twins.

Well... this just got weird.

Moving in strange, silent tandem the evokers warded themselves, and slung spells at the Companions. Great balls of fire exploded, and missiles of raw force hammered at them. Illusions made the wizards nearly impossible to hit, with ghosts vanishing in whiffs of smoke as Thok's arrows and Chikara's ax passed through them. The wizards did not react to entreaties to stop fighting, and wouldn't even speak, simply hurling more magic at the Companions.

Enraged, Zhakar unleashed his hellfire, as well as his blinding beams of light, immolating several wizards, and blinding most of those who were left. Hacking through their remaining defenses, Chikara and Zordlan dispatched the rest, while Thok's arrows found their mark, leaving a field of bodies where previously there had been silent, deadly warriors.

Shock Troopers

Winded, and confused, the Companions looked around and found themselves in a barracks. The place where, supposedly, these wizards would have lived, worked, and trained. And despite the fact that the Runeforge made sleep and eating optional rather than required, there were beds that had been used, and carefully preserved rations stacked up and ready. As if these warriors had been preparing for something. And then, in a strange, alchemical array in the rear of the room, they found what looked like a cross between a cauldron, and some kind of birthing chamber.

Well, at least we know where they were coming from...

The Companions rested, staying vigilant, but taking care to keep an eye on the portals in, and out of the barracks. Once their strength returned, they continued on through the next portal, finding themselves in an even stranger place... a place that was one part armory, and one part arena. A curtain of flames stood against the left wall, burning silently. Unsure if they'd found a hold of Runeforged weapons, Zordlan examined the arms hanging on the wall. While they were clearly wrought by masters of their craft, there was nothing else unusual about them. Nothing strange or enchanted. They'd also been attached to the wall, rendering them little more than decoration.

That was when a challenge rang out from beyond the fires. An invitation to step into the arena, and to die with honor.

The Mistress of Evocation

Be careful what you wish for.

The Companions stepped through the fire, hoping they could reason with the woman who had challenged them. That there was some way they could explain what was going on, and end things peacefully. When they saw the red-haired warrior wreathed in flames, with a hulking, demonic slave standing ready to aid her, they knew there would be no way to halt her. Not without putting their own lives at great risk.

As the battle began, the wizard flew into the air, howling for blood as she sent streams of baleful light down toward the Companions. As her demonic minion began a buzzing intonation, Thok loosed an arrow, taking it in the throat. The creature's concentration broken, it failed to summon more of its brethren to join the fray. Chikara charged it, her ax holding its full attention. Zhakar rose to meet the mistress of the chamber, an inhuman battle cry bellowing from his throat as his eyes burned, and his wings flared. Mirelinda spoke the soft, dire words she'd only uttered a few times before, and the light of bright intelligence in the evoker's eyes went out. All that was left was a brute, animal hatred, and a desire for battle.

The battle was lost after that. The demon soon fell beneath the onslaught of blades and arrows carving its flesh, and with a final blow from his pick, Zhakar pierced the wizard's ribs, the spike ramming in beneath her arm, and puncturing her heart. As the body floated to the ground, something strange happened. The symbol on her forehead, which had blazed brightly, lifted from her brow. It streaked toward Zhakar, striking him just above his eyes. It burned there, a blazing symbol heating his steel skin red hot, making slag drip around the edges. It didn't hurt, though... quite the opposite. It pulsed with power, filling his blood with heat. A potent weapon the evoker had burned into herself, transferred on her death to the hand that had thrown her down.

What Next?

Shaken, and confused, the Companions realized they were no closer to getting what they came there for. Worse, if the evokers were anything to judge by, those in the Runeforge would be universally hostile, giving them no choice but to fight for every answer, and every foot of ground.

With half a dozen halls left to choose from, there was still a great deal more of the place to explore.

Next Time on Table Talk!

Will the Companions survive the horrors of the Runeforge? Will they find the weapons they seek, or is it all just a deadly trap? Find out on the next installment of Table Talk!

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