Post/Author/DateTime	Post
#1 phelf_der_zemit Mar 29, 2010 17:16:57	This is my homage to the recaps put up by BigC from across the pond. I think many of us have spent a few hours enjoying the literature of Red Hand of Doom (a moduale I'd really love to run) and City of the Spider Queen (a moduale that is a bit over my head) and heard tidbits of The Vault of Larin Karr (which I want to read/play/Dm/everything). In any case, I want to put my own experinces up, and I will take Caligula's thread group a bit farther by compiling the events into a novel. I will make each post a chapter or part of. This first one might not be too lengthy but it is the mothership. I will give a bit of crunch now and when asked. I won't reveil the actual moduale yet as that would ruin the suprise, and we wouldn't want that... If you figure anything out, please don't post it. I'd hate any of my players to read this and get any ideas. Here are the players: Lynette, a Level 5 Favored Soul of Torm Thomas, a Level 5 Paladin of Torm Laureh, a Level 5 Wizardress Karran, a Level 5 Rogue The prologue is the next post and what opened the fluff for the players to make characters around. They only had a few requirements. Level 5 was obviously one of those, and there had to be a reason for their appearance and/or stay in Waterdeep, the City of Splenders... Post any critques or accolades or etc. whereever. You attention would be greatly apperciated. Hope it is fun. And Here. We. Go.
#2 phelf_der_zemit Mar 29, 2010 17:44:09	Trails of Shadow Pologue They came by runners and guard request. They rode the rumor mills of guild houses and spread through the noble's gossip circles. News trickled through the different mediums, reaching all levels of society and grasping the attention of every able bodied mercenary, adventurer and do-gooder. News of trouble in a noble house of Waterdeep. This is how the strange group came by a noble's quest. A runner found them during your daily workings. Sealed with an emblem known around Waterdeep as the House of Irlingstar, a Merchant House of no small standing, the runner departs leaving with each a message. They had heard the troubles that happened not but a night before last, though details have escaped been sparse. The note found after breaking the seal is both simple and concise. Dear Adventuring Soul, My sources have insisted that if I ever stumble upon a problem I should consult you, among others, for a solution. It is just my luck you are in the city when my need is dire. If you would be so kind as to present yourself at my Manor two bells hence, and come prepared for things not found within the walls of our fair city. More information will be given at your attendance. Many thanks, Lord Hulraven Irlingstar And now the bells have rung. The time is paramount. The troupe of adventures found themselves prepared and within the Noble's private study before the Lord himself, and his stooge Wizard. The Lord looks weary and tired. Almost as if he has not slept in a day and a half. The study itself is to be expected of that of a noble’s heritage, expensively decorated, but without any real touch of compasion or sincerity.  The coldness of the room made the emotion radiating from Lord Irlingstar seem a beacon. A beacon of pain and depression. Around each adventurer is another of this collected band, some they know by acquaintance, others by reputation and some not at all. Looking around the room with sunken eyes and rumpled clothes the Lord stands and draws breath- "I am grateful for your hasty appearance and dutiful readiness, reward and danger awaits you, but first, I must tell you what has befallen me and my own..."
#3 phelf_der_zemit Mar 29, 2010 22:29:20	Chapter 1 The Lords Troubles Gathering himself before the assembled, the Lord pinches his nose and the group can visibly see him compose his features, masking a deep kind of pain. "Not twenty-four hours ago, my beloved wife was kidnapped by drow. I and a long time adventuring companion were having drinks in this very study when the event took place. Belrog and I chased them through the mansion, gathering guards to our side but we were too old and too far into the drink to do anything effective. In my years of adventuring I have become witness to many a strange beast and monster, including drow. But these drow... these creatures were unlike any I had ever seen. They had long claws and bestial features… more akin to some lizard or, dare I say, dragon than their surface dwelling cousins. Sadly, Belrog did not escape our intruder’s wrath, and has moved on to what gods will have him." At this he picks up his silver chalice and tipped fine blood red Sembian wine onto the cool study floor, and then took a draught himself. After a few seconds hesitation he continued, "As it where, the drow fled the premises in a way that baffled me, so I called upon my other long time adventuring companion and business associate, Mistmyr Iroan. At this point I will have him explain what he has discovered." As his words echoed through the dark study, Lord Irlingstar retired to his chair before his guest and refilled his chalice. Taking one long swig, he stared into the goblet's contents, as if seeking answers or comfort within its depths. Standing from his own chair near his friend's, the sorcerer Mistmyr coughs, gathering the collective attention from the grieving lord. The sorcerer is a stout fellow. He has a receding hair line, and seems a bit worse for the wear. Adventuring obviously was not as glorious or easy on him as the reclined lord sitting not far away. This man is tired. Tired, but happy to help his old friend. Pain is evident in the spell caster’s small, watery eyes and the set of his lips. Mistmyr is not so emotionally torn and raw as his psychologically bloodied companion, but has a more resigned, solemn sadness. One gathered from long expectations. Clearly Sorcerer Iroan did not expect his group of friends, who used to battle goblins and orcs, to make it as far as they had. "Hello friends. I hope your reputations were well earned.” At this he glances at each adventurer in turn. “Since the incident I have been able to gather a few details concerning the captors. I have done some divining and I have discovered the drow come and went from the manor via some variety of Plane Shift spell. This is how they bypassed the villa's defenses and escaped so effectively from the manor's guard. They treaded to and fro on the Plane of Shadow, a very scary place, as I'm sure you know. This tells me these characters mean business. Serious business. I dare say these people do not kidnap for randsom. Past this I have nothing else information wise to contribute." Letting this information sink in, the older sorcerer continues. "Needless to say, time is of the essence. A substantial reward will be given to you with the return of the Lord's dear wife, or proof her captives have been duely compensated for their misdeeds. I have access to materials that can transport you to the Plane and we have in place a tracker and guide who will show you to their where-abouts. He will bring you back here if you are successful, or if you are not. Upon your return you will be rewarded thusly." Drawing another breath, he finishes with a final statement. "This is why we have requested you appear adventure ready. We do not know how long this will take, or how truely dangerious it will be. But if you return the Lady Nael, the Lord's wife, be sure your reward will be plentiful. Ask your questions, and then if you are willing, we will be away. Time is of great importance." The first to speak as the sorcerer finishes his debriefing was also the first to arrive. When first spotted, the poorly dressed women could easily be confused for just another scribe, or acolyte of Oghma. The girl, named Laureh Camar, was in actuality, an upstart wizard known to sell her spells and services to further her magical learning. Her appearance may be unkempt and homily, but those who were to measure her power by such soon found themselves in the throes of powerful weave play and extremely socially awkward chatter. Throughout the introduction Laureh had been dutifully writing down notes and scribbling upon parchment. Only when she stood and spoke was it universally apparent that she was among the party members chosen. Addressing their patron she says in a dry and monotonous voice."First and foremost may I say. Thank you Lord Irlingstar for your hospitality and your confidence." The woman clears her throat and continues. Turning her attention to the Sorcerer, "Mistmyr Iroan." She begins, addressing him formally with a slight nod. "The plane shift spell you mentioned. Do you know if it was manifested by arcane means? I mean to say, could it have been Psionic in nature? It may be of note and I want to be as prepared as possible for what we may face." Mistmyr stared at the awkward mess of a wizard for a second or two before responding. Frowning in concentration, Sorcerer Iroan shakes his head in answer, "Not to my knowledge. I have not extensively studied Mind Magic, so I can't exactly ruled it out, but I can tell you it rang true with weave magic if ever I saw it.” At this Larueh scribbles some more notes in her book and then closes it. A man in the corner is the next to make his presence known. Cowl of his hood pulled far over his gaunt features, the identity of Karran Koalith was hard pressed to be hidden for too long in the right circles. The rogue first addressed Mistmyr with a nod of recognition, whom he had dealings with before. Then he addressed the group as a whole, closer to a formal introduction than that of an interrogation, like that of the wizardress. "Some of you know me," the man says with a gravelly voice, "You know what I do." His dark eyes scan the people hired, "Whether you approve of what I do or not won't matter, we're working together." Never leaving the wall, he continues. "For those of you who don't know me," he looks at the wizardress and the other women in attendance, "I am Karran Koalith, a man of a certain skill-set meant for shadows and less ... " he glanced towards the tall, well built man in full-plate, " ... less than lawful ideas." A slight smirk showed from within the cowl. The man in full-plate stiffens a bit at Karran’s proclamation. He did indeed recognize the man. This rogue knew of his past, the past which had driven him to his God and purpose. That which caused him to defend the weak and abolish evil. Thomas Orilious was a product of his upbringing. A paladin of Torm with a past entrenched in sorrow and loss, he knew of the darker side of the world. This side of the world stole from him his father and his innocence. Karran was an aspect of that… evil. He knew the story, maybe even its cause. But that was a confrontation for another time. Resetting his features from the fury and pain they were slipping towards, Thomas refocused on the sorcerer and his other companions. Glancing at the armor clad figure standing comfortably close to him, it was easy to regain his smile. The figure in question was Lynette Chambers, or Lynn for short. She was also an affiliate of Torm, though past the battle gear and holy symbol, the similarities ended. A mithril breastplate adorned her lean body, and a red cape with Torm’s symbol in silver hung from her back. The redheaded Lynette seemed to be having more trouble controlling her emotions over what the rogue-ish man said. Her cocked eyebrow almost seemed to be wondering if he wanted to be arrested. Thomas’ grin grew even larger at the expression. Shaking her head of the tangent, Lynette addresses Sorcerer Iroan, speaking for both worshipers of Torm. "The church of Torm is happy to help in any way that we can, Lord Irlingstar. Though we hadn't known that we would be leaving this plane of existence. Can you send some sort of notification to the church that we will be doing some traveling to another plane? Other than that, I believe that Thomas and I are ready and able to assist you in your time of need?” She replies, looking to the taller paladin to see if he had anything to add. Thomas nodded to Lynn and smiled at the Lord, bowing a bit as a show of respect. "We are duty bound to assist and I'm sure the temple here will help in any way they can to ease the suffering you have endured and continue to endure because of this act of injustice. I kindly request you inform the temple in the city of our departure if we must do so immediately." With that said he awaited until sent to depart, or requested to speak again. Taking in the introductions and reactions between her new companions, Laureh hesitates as a lapse in conversation appears. After a second she burst into furious motion, scribbling everything she could remember into her logbook. The odd behavior elicits a few glances between the recently joined adventurers. Thomas was feeling a little embarrassed for the poor girl, but happy she was writing things down. He did not have the best memory in the world… Lynette found it sort of funny, and was impressed with the younger girls knowledge, even if it could use a bit of organization. Karran just seemed taken aback with the strangeness. From all the accounts he had heard of the girl she was a fiery little thing, but from this encounter he thought stealing her pen would have gher the floor in tears. Yes, right before she glued my hands to my arse, thought the pessimistic rogue. Karran took note of Thomas's look that he'd given him, he knew none of them would trust him ... and he expected this, and this would work to his advantage sometimes ... but more often than not, even a seduced trust is a good idea. "You all know I am here for my skills and I accepted for the money and gain in reputation among my peers, but I will not stand around here and dishonor the dead by asking many of the questions that I normally would." His eyes shifted to the sorcerer and to Lord Irlingstar as if judging their intent. "I will just have to trust all is as the Lord Irlingstar says and Mistmyr. I am ready to go when the questioning is complete." After scribbling for twenty or so seconds, Laureh raises her hand. Staring once again at the girl’s… oddness, Mistmyr nods in her direction. "I recall reading a book in the past that talked of Drow mating with demons to create offspring which served them loyally. These creatures are commonly referred to as Draegloth, but they do not match the description given. Also Drow have been known to transform betrayers and lawbreakers into Driders, but they to do not match the description. Past these few things, the topic of Drow crossbreeding escapes me.” Tapping her chin in thought, the wizardress places her book between her legs to free a hand. This hand commences to scratching her hind quarters. “Two final questions. Were there any other clues, however minor, left by these scoundrels? And finally, do we have time to view and examine the lord’s friend Belrog before we depart." The wizardress concludes matter of factually. Wrinkling her nose and rolling her tongue. She absently bites her nails and picks her ear. At the mention of exhuming his dear friend, Lord Irlingstar's silver chalice clatters to the floor. All faces abruptly turn towards the distraught noble. In a very quiet voice shaking with emotion, rage and sadness prevalent, he responds, "I ask you to return me my wife. I know you do what you think is proper to succeed in such an endeavor but," at this pause, his voice slowly starts to rise in volume, "we have not the time nor the incredible dishonor to spare on examining whether a rapier to the heart is an effective manner for which to kill someone!" After a servant sets his now refilled chalice back on his study table, Lord Irlingstar picks it up and stares back into its depths, this time not tasting the expensive wine. Coughing again to gather the troupe’s attention, Mistmyr quietly continues. "Yes, we have not the time for such examinations. Please we must carry on. Of course I shall have a runner carry your whereabouts to the Church. We are grateful Torm and his followers have not abandoned us in our time of need. One last round of questions then I am afraid we must be off." Stepping towards the center of the room, the sorcerer beckons the adventures close. Gathering round, Mistmyr pauses for any question to be asked before he cast his spell to send them to the dark, dangerous, Shadow Plane. With a deep but somewhat awkward curtsy the Wizard addresses the Lord after his display. "My pardon your lordship I did not intend to distress you.” She notes dryly as she reopens her tome and peruses her notes quickly. “Your original statement did not disclose the manner in which your friend died. If he had succumbed to a magical attack for example, it is possible that some latent arcane clue could have existed. I meant no disrespect to the departed I assure you. We all want to get your beloved back to you and every clue could be invaluable." After making another quick note in her book she closes it again. Then Laureh follows as the others gather around Mistmyr. Thomas glances to the female wizard after the reaction of the lord, and then turns his attention to the wizard. He then speaks quietly. "Just two questions Mr. Mistmyr. What can you tell us of this Shadow Plane? Second, do you have any knowledge of any enemies of Lord Irlingstar who would be suspect to pull off such a thing as this?" Glancing up at the large paladin of Torm, Mistmyr gives a short explanation of the plane, all the while searching his pocket for necessary spell components. "Yes, well as you know it is rather dark there. Where ever you go you see merely a shadow of what truly is on the Material Plane. This shadow is cast from negative energy, so they will be corrupt images of themselves. Deserted streets, rundown cities, etc. However things that thrive on negative energy will appear greatly improved. As example, a temple to Lathander would be caved in on the shadow plane, while a long abandoned castle which still holds onto the evil deeds committed with in will appear pristine. Now you actually won't travel on the Shadow Plane, but really just the fringe. The actual Plane of Shadows should not be attempted than anyone less than Eliminster himself. There will be perils aplenty, depending on how long the trip is, but stick to your guide and all should be safe... relatively.” With these last few words he slides his hand into what seems his last and deepest pocket, letting loose a noise of success. From the pocket he pulls a metal tuning fork, which appears to be tarnished silver, embedded with obsidian shards along its sides. "Now, if you would all be too kind I would ask you to link hands..." At which point the aging Sorcerer grasps Lynette's hand. Eventual, with the occasional look of distaste, the companions all link hands. "Very good. Now for those of you who have never experienced any sort of teleportation, this might be a tad disconcerting. Just don't panic and I will introduce you to your guide and give you a few goodies before I return here.” With this he bends over and taps the fork to the hard study floor. A high pitched chime fills the room and Sorcerer Iroan speaks three arcane syllables. Next he taps the tuning fork to a ring upon his finger which encircles Lynette's wrist and the chime is lower, sending a visible wave through the material plane. Seven more archaic grumbles and everything goes black... an endless sense of falling, moving across empty motes of air... and their feet hit the ground. A few unconsciously sway forward, beating back momentum that did not ever really exist.