Adventures in Undermountain
Our adventure recently crossed a major milestone—we celebrated one full year of delving into Undermountain on November 14th! After countless battles, narrow escapes, and hard-earned victories, our party The League of Legends now find themselves on the fourth level of the mega-dungeon, the Twisted Caverns, where strange alliances, lurking dangers, and Halaster’s madness continue to test us at every turn.
YOU MEET IN A TAVERN | SESSION 0
On the Western shores of Faerûn lies the city of Waterdeep. A place of business for many, opportunity for others, and called home by countless thousands but all know it as the City of Splendor. Its history is old; older than the noble families that rule in the upper wards, older than Baldur's Gate or Icewind Dale, older even than Neverwinter Forest and the great plains that succumbed to the Spell Plague and Calamity; it has persevered. Its history is Contiguous; the city behind its high, white walls has never fallen. This is the hub of many races who make up the spanning castes. This is a city of spectrums; great wealth and oppressive poverty; festivals and fairs and crime and corruption; adventure and intrigue and pampering and imbibing. A dichotomous city. Nobles of the North Ward who parade through the streets and throw elegant balls to flaunt their wealth just beyond the walls that divide them from the Field Ward homes that hold a thousand hungry mouths, some of them old beggars, others children made orphans by a parent's vice or war or both.
Each of its seven wards houses humans, teiflings, dwarves, half-orcs, elves, dragon borne and half another world of creatures. Merchants can be heard calling out the contents of their stalls in the Trades Ward; smells of freshly caught fish, ripe fruits and spices brought in by traders who travel over the Sea of Swords. The streets of Castle Ward are pristine, patrolled by guards who don colorful and exquisite armor. Statues that act as street signs, pointing towards the courthouse, a local theater, or the extravagant castle Waterdeep. Just beyond the crimeless Castle Ward, is the Sea Ward, home of a dozen religions with gaudy temples, some built of stone, others carved straight into massive statues, the size of titans, that loom over the city of Waterdeep. Their features sometimes disappear into the sky, when the clouds hang low or when a fresh morning fog rolls in from the sea. They've been still for so long that houses have begun to appear near, around and on them. At one time, their names were known, and their history, told often. But the city is old, and with time, the people have lost the stories.
In the Dock Ward, amidst the seafoam and the smell of salt water, raucous laughter, or murderous shouting (sometimes it's hard to tell the difference) can be heard from behind brightly lit tavern windows. Saltydogs partake in bouts of violence. For brawls go hand-in-hand with hard liquor, and the liquor flows like water there. The dark alleys that pepper this ward are the hunting grounds for cutthroats; the busy harbor a playing field for a thief with sticky fingers. Nobles avoid this place, as much for the general smell as the inherent danger; like a lamb wandering into a pack of wolves. The great graveyard, called the City of the Dead, sits in the eastern portion. It houses countless dead, from seven and seven and seven generations past. Walls have been erected around it, guards patrol it, in case any upstart necromancer is looking for flesh for his dark magics. No dead wander about, it is but a large graveyard, but that doesn't stop the children from telling ghost stories, or daring one another to sneak in and stay the night. Childish things, the adults will say. But even a grown man is superstitious enough that he wouldn't partake in any dare of that sort.
And on the southern side of the city, looms Mt. Waterdeep, a natural landmark that sweetens an already beautiful city. Its peak was white capped ere a few months ago, but now, in the spring post-winter chill, it catches the morning sun first and glows like a beacon. It once housed the original denizens that started the city of Waterdeep, tunnels and mines run through its core, but it's been long since abandoned. Or so the city thought; there's been rumblings in the dark, sounds from the old mines, a patrol disappearing here or there. Some say it's a troll, or perhaps Underdark creatures striking in the night. Others rumored that a mage took residence there. He experimented on things better left untouched. He went mad. Some say, on those cold, still nights, you can hear his laughter echoing off the mountainside. But that is a story for another time. This story has more humble beginnings. We start our adventure in the warmth of the Yawning Portal Inn. A tavern so named for the gaping hole in the centre which descends into complete darkness from which tipsy patrons are prevented from disappearing into by but a waist-high stone ring built around the well. Six unlikely friends find themselves, as they say, in the right place, at the wrong time.
THE CALLED | SESSION 1
“Where we last left off... Alter wakes in her room on the third floor of the Inn of the Yawning Portal. Recounting the events of the night before, she orders breakfast from Bonnie in passing and meets the acquaintance of the Black Viper in her mild mannered alter ego, Esvele Rosznar. Alter accepts a quest from Esvele Rosznar to search for her brother, Kressando Rosznar. Kressando is a 22-year old man with fair skin and dark curly hair, and was last heard of trying to conduct secret meetings in Skullport with the Xanathar Guild in an attempt to set up a slave trade. A rogue like his sister, he also wears a matching platinum signet ring emblazoned with the Rosznar family crest (a diving white falcon on a field of blue) and an inscription of the family motto (“Fly high and stoop swift”). Esvele has promised a favour to the adventurers who can facilitate Kressando’s safe return or deliver proof of his whereabouts. Alter recognized the Doom Raiders, another group of adventurers planning an excursion from the tavern’s low candlelight. On the second floor she found a pair of gnome traders, one of which being Jorxkin, engaging in trade with two well-off waterdhavian humans. On the first floor Alter encountered the Parentless Parliament in passing, a group of orphans playing at being adventurers themselves and eagerly awaiting the next fearless band to cross the threshold of the Yawning Portal. They were pleased when through the door walked Peter, in full plate armour, rivalling that of the City Watch and an off-duty member of the watch named Corporal Endroth Knag who shared his troubles with Peter.
His troubles being that of two unsolved cases that didn’t sit right with the City Watch Veteran. One the disappearance of an entire team of the Cellarers & Plumbers’ Guild without a trace while working in the sewers. The other being the disappearance of Josephus Blaze, a known murderer believed to be hiding out somewhere within the walls of the city or beneath it. Just then the sound of a bell echoed up from the dark pit in the centre of the tavern. Caul, a half-orc barbarian ascended moments later, the only survivor from his party and with very little memory of the happenings there of. Failing to escape the seemingly magical pull of Undermountain itself, a pull the proprietor Durnan is very familiar with, Caul stumbled to the counter and began recruiting adventurers to his cause. Beginning with a familiar face, Alter then Peter began to exchange pleasantries with the man occasionally interrupted by the odd faces of tavern regulars. Brother Sepulcher, a priest of Jergal warned the adventurers of leaving bodies within the dungeon. Old Stannoc took in the party members and began placing bets on the fates of the adventurers. At this time a drunken gnome, Jorxkin stumbled down the stairs and tripped and fell down the 280 foot well in the centre of the room luckily managing to catch and break his fall with the rope which was lowered then raised for him by a mysterious practitioner of medicine in joining the fray from the corner of the room. Many patrons began to bet against the survival of the gnome.
The adventuring party was warned several times against the dangers of the dungeon by Durnan who spoke of a knot in the weave. A trace of magic lingering within the dungeon causing madness to bloom in the minds of the ill-fated. Durnan spoke of the mad mage himself and his apprentices along with a series of other denizens falling to this madness. The knot was also believed to restrict magic from allowing the transport of individuals into or out of the dungeon as well as protecting against the destruction or manipulation of the structure of the dungeon itself. The party was pulled aside next by Volothamp Geddarm, famed explorer and raconteur who introduced them to a friend of his named Obaya Uday who offered to purchase any excess magical items found within the dungeon. In speaking of searching for valuable items, Volo mentioned an ancient alabaster throne hidden somewhere within Undermountain. The party accepted Volo’s quest to search for the Throne of the Coronal. Volo claimed the party would be a true friend of the descendents of Illefarn should they share knowledge of its location with Volo.
An eavesdropping Sanfin Lotte, and his parakeet Chloe introduced themselves and bid the party well in their ventures. Conversely the performing bard, Mattrim “Threestrings” Mereg threw his own mission to the party requesting they pay a Harper debt on his behalf. The party accepted the mission to deliver a pouch of gold to a female half-drow named Cal’al Claddani, who runs a tavern called the Flagon and the Dragon in Skullport. The party was promised, in exchange for their courier, refuge in a Harper hideout called Dalagor’s Fortress, located at the uppermost level of Skullport, guarded by a dragonborn mage named Felrax. Following payment to Durnan for the descent and the return from Undermountain, the party ventured into the dungeon of the mad mage. Feet hitting the sand of the entry well, the party was exposed to the warnings in the form of graffiti from past adventurers. The graffiti read the following;
In Elvish: Beyond the pillar forest, the Mad Mage waits. Casting spells behind magic gates.
In Deep speech: An unknown message.
In Elvish: Quillathe, if you ever read this – I’m sorry.
In Common: Evil’s twin hides its face for now. Expect that to change before winter’s end.
In Common: If thou readst these words, know that the blessings of Tymora are upon thee. TYMORA SUX!
Tiny in Common: go back
In blood in Common: DROW EVERYWHE
In Common: There is something pulling me ever deeper. I can no longer leave.
In broken Common: BIZAAR DOWN FOODS WEEPINS ARMIRS BEST
In Common: we knew the odds and took our chances
Proceeding to the hall of many pillars, with light sources supplied by Peter’s torchlight and Alter’s dancing lights, the party stumbled upon two secret doors hidden behind bas-relief carvings of demons (a nalfeshnee demon, and a dretch with carved spy-holes for eyes). First leading to a room with a purple glowing sword embedded in a mannequin with a skeletal hand lying next to it. The room was bathed in echoing voices from vents in the ceiling. Jorxkin picked up the magical longsword later to figure out he and the sword would be magically compelled to be inseparable. Exiting the room, the party found themselves ambushed by two bugbears that surprised them by launching javelins at them. One of such implanting itself deep within Peter’s chest. The party dispatched the bugbears only to find them being puppeted by a pair of intellect devourers which then attempted to infiltrate Caul’s mind. Narrowly escaping the intellect devourers, the brains melted and the ambush was sustained.”
A THRONE OF LIES | SESSION 2
“Where we last left off... Returning to the hall of many pillars, the party found themselves descending into a slanted room with the statue of a Sahuagin and avoiding the water found themselves facing a gray ooze that had been hiding in the water posing as the Sahuagin’s missing arm. The ooze was dispatched quickly though managed to inflict damage to Caul’s greataxe. The statue, after turning the head the right way, and ensuring no treasure was hidden within, was decidedly better left unfettered. Following the encounter, the party elected to travel in the opposite direction from the warning written on the wall in the pillar forest that stated, “Certain death [southern exit]!”. Following the winding hallways of the dungeon, the party entered the Hall of Three Lords. The goblin graffiti names were cleaned off to reveal the Waterdhavian names; Elyndraun, Ruathyndar, and Onthalass respectively. A broken staff next to a skeletal body was left to it’s own devices, the party now seemingly heeding the warning of the skeletal hand next to the cursed sword from the room previous. Nevertheless, Victor exploring elsewhere tripped a rigged secret door causing a clattering of ceramic dishes. In the moments of preparation, the party took up arms and held for the impending battle. Jorxkin realized, too late at this point, that he is now a beacon of light with no way of quelling his nightlight.
Enter the Undertakers. Seemingly a dozen or so vampire and vampire spawn entered the room marching in formation and spreading out about the room. The guise and performance working on all but Victor who saw through the ruse but wasn’t entirely confident. Uktarl Krannoc introduced himself and the others as the Undertakers and elected to take the party to meet their leader, Harria Valashtar. The party followed in silence to the Hall of the Bone Throne and were brought before Harria and the rest of the Vampire Haven. Flanked by her flesh golem, Harria did her best to keep up the ruse and demanded a payment from the party for safe passage through the level. The party initially paid the golden tax (just under 100 gold pieces) though supported by Victor’s insight into the ruse, they turned on Harria. Victor, swiping a mirror from Caul’s pack, felt confident, after revealing that the wannabe vampires were visible in the mirror, that he was onto their tricks, and decided they’d rather fight for their right of passage. The fight commenced with the dogs cowering under the Wyvern skeleton in the middle of the room, and Jorxkin weilding the magical sword with great ferocity against the mountainous flesh golem after seeing normal weapons would not pierce its stitched hide.
Alter and Victor began to dispatch the Undertakers henchmen, Victor managing to weave in a hand of healing to Jorxkin and a stunning strike to the flesh golem as well. Peter and Caul meanwhile, held the line against Harria and Uktarl who fought with every bit of malice of vampire lords though lacking a little in strength it seemed they found themselves on the losing side. Through some sensible negotiations, Uktarl and the remaining Undertakers cut their losses and fled while Harria stood by her flesh golem and fought to the death, finally being taken out by Caul who stomped on her wrist and decapitated her with his now blunt greataxe. Outnumbered Harria fell but got the last laugh as her poisonous snakes animated from their resting place on the throne and sunk their bone fangs into both Victor and Jorxkin. Copious wounds sustained from the battle, Jorxkin performed a ritual to create a protective magical hut around the party while they took some time to rest up and heal from their injuries and replenish their resources.”
LITTLE BOX OF HORRORS | SESSION 3
“Where we last left off... Following the battle with the Undertakers, the party looted the bodies and stacked them in the corner where they were burned. A thorough investigation of the bandit’s headquarters found themselves stocked up on adventuring gear and rations and finding themselves a little wealthier having removed the golden tax from the dungeon level. Other items of intrigue included a set of marked cards, a ring inscribed with dwarven runes of fertility and sexual potency, and a mysterious stone key topped with a tiny dwarf figurine found in a dwarven fresco. Stumbling upon more secret doors, Victor managed to replenish his supply of holy water after finding what was presumably a real vampire’s coffin tough be it empty. Within Harria’s room, the party obtained a few more disguises and made off into the hall out the northward exit from the Hall of the Bone Throne. The party found themselves in the Hall of Heroes, a hallway flanked with life-size granite statues of human warriors draped in cobwebs and concealing the corpses of three giant spiders presumably dispatched by the Undertakers as a human body was found not far off. Down the pillared way, the party came across a rusty pile of armor, a cubicle of skulls and another secret door revealed to open to a room with a green copper helm and a matching throne. When Jorxkin chickened out, Caul donned the helm and sat regally on the throne causing a wand of secrets to dispense from a compartment in the ceiling.
Backtracking, the party entered another small room to find an illusion or spectral being of sorts that resembled the eye configuration of a tiny beholder. Victor observed it for a moment, and it him but it dissipated shortly afterwards. Forgotten. Off a door north of the Hall of Heroes, the party found a little stone box of horrors. A domed room containing another Sahuagin statue, this time holding a stone box in its four arms. Suspended above the statue a pool of acid, of which Victor collected a small vial. Navigating the obvious trap, the party came out unscathed and with the contents of the box, a humanoid heart, in tow as the key previously procured by Peter fit the stone lockbox. The party next entered an abandoned armoury where Caul obtained a handaxe and began working on repairing his damaged greataxe with a sharpening wheel set into the floor. As Caul began the reparations, Jorxkin’s canon ADHD got the better of him and he, along with a few others proceeded to the end of the Hall of Heroes where placing his hand on the set of double doors triggered an Elder Rune, the Elder Rune of War, Angras granting him the boon effect: When the target hits with an attack, the target can turn that hit into a critical hit, after which this boon effect ends. The doors opened beyond to reveal a manticore den with three manticores stirring in makeshift beds, three large piles of soiled, torn tapestries and curtains, intermixed with humanoid bones and broken bits of stone.”
BADUL, TO ME! | SESSION 4
“Where we last left off... A monster in every sense of the word, a manticore has a vaguely humanoid head, the body of a lion, and the wings of a dragon. A bristling mane stretches down the creature's back, and its long tail ends in a cluster of deadly spikes that can impale prey at impressive range. To quote a dwarven copper merchant of Waterdeep, “manticores love the taste of human flesh. That’s why, on trips through the mountains, I always travel with human guards.” Unexpectedly bursting into a den of three such ferocious beasts, the party, come to refer to themselves as the ‘League of Legends’ managed to not only survive such a deadly encounter but also acquire an unlikely ally in the face of a goblin practitioner of the dark arts who introduced himself to you as Badul. The goblin man seems to have seen better days but is willing to travel with you under the strength in numbers pretense and likely because the common folk of Waterdeep might not take too kindly to a goblin crawling its way up the Yawning Portal. Recovering some valuable nick-nacks that were stashed in the manticore nests, you elected to use this room to rest and recover from your wounds suffered in battle. With one of the many exits to the room fortified you felt safe enough to settle down, and were interrupted a short time later by a voracious troll that seemingly had been delivering trays of food to the manticore den. Intelligently dispatched by burning through it’s regenerative capabilities with fire, you managed to finally secure a safe area to rest, successfully this time.
Strength regained, you ventured further into the dungeon in the direction from which the troll came. You arrived at a series of more dead ends while mapping the level though in doing so did find some dwarven architecture in a feast hall and what might have been a barracks at some point. Most of these rooms were devoid of anything of value though eventually you did come to something promising. A green door. Behind which was what appeared to be an empty closet space. After numerous attempts to surmise what this room could possibly be, experiments were conducted by Caul, clearly the brains of the party, he destroyed the door after willingly locking himself inside. You all did eventually come to the conclusion that this room was possibly already looted by one of the many groups of adventurers that came before you. Moving on, you backtracked a ways to continue south of the manticore den coming to a desecrated temple that appeared to be the lair of a now deceased basilisk from which your group managed to loot a magical driftglobe and a few non-petrified treasures. The price paid for which being Peter’s near death experience as he came to be surprised by two giant centipedes, a grim fate from which he was spared by the ever-vigilant Balagos. We pick up as you all stand in stride with your comrades on a raised pedestal central to the room, Peter has just finished patching up his steel defender’s wounds and you all stand facing the grim statue cluster of unfortunate adventurers and unlucky monsters that faced the basilisk before your time. What would you like to do?”
CERTAIN DEATH, NARROWLY AVOIDED | SESSION 5
“Where we last left off... Backtracking a ways, and checking one of the very few passages you left undiscovered you found yourselves following Jorxkin directly into a Grell Hideout. An ensuing ambush which left Alter held aloft dodging paralyzing barbs, and Jorxkin bleeding out atop a spire of humanoid skulls. A grim fate from which he was spared by the fleet footed monk who scaled the tower and managed to bring the gnome to a full recovery while being harried by grells which were later dispatched by Badul’s eldritch sorcery. Finding yourselves back in the Hall of Many Pillars, you elected that you would not be fooled by the reverse psychology, and continued southward in the direction denoted to lead to certain death. Badul, bravely leading the way immediately stumbled upon a goblin corpse and relinquished the lead. Through a narrow passageway, you found yourselves in a corridor conspicuously free of dust and debris.
Continuing down the corridor, you came upon an archway with the words “COME HITHER” etched in common into the frame. Touching the seemingly stone wall beyond caused it to ripple like water and form a bas-relief of a nude, heavyset man playing a harp. A harp upon which were further inscribed the words, “Gaze upon me with bronzed visage and secrets shall I reveal.” You decided to heed caution though keep your eyes out for something that could be a key to open what lies beyond this archway.
Continuing down the corridor, you came upon an archway with the words “COME HITHER” etched in common into the frame. Touching the seemingly stone wall beyond caused it to ripple like water and form a bas-relief of a nude, heavyset man playing a harp. A harp upon which were further inscribed the words, “Gaze upon me with bronzed visage and secrets shall I reveal.” You decided to heed caution though keep your eyes out for something that could be a key to open what lies beyond this archway.
A moment of hesitation from Badul, and an impressive catch of a thrown spear by Victor was all that was needed to get past two bugbear guards, nonetheless their bodies were repeatedly pelted by firebolts and arrows while they attempted to flee just for good measure.
The initiative continued by Badul, he knocked on the door that lay before you which was opened shortly later by another goblin. Through some impressive deceit, you learned these goblins belonged to the Xanathar Thieve’s Guild and were tasked with holding this tunnel from a den of gricks. Inspired by their fear Badul charged into the mouth of the tunnel, alone. You all began rushing in after him and fought your way through the tight spaces making two interesting discoveries. The first being an upside-down throne with a mummified minotaur and a sleeping Grick Alpha, for which you decided best to let sleeping dogs lie. The second interesting find was a thoroughly terrified man named Kleim the Weasel, the resident coward of the Fine Fellows of Daggerford. An adventuring group of which Caul initially descended the Yawning Portal with. He expressed his interest in leaving the dungeon, and as he and Caul begin to reconnect that’s where we’ll pick up.”
The initiative continued by Badul, he knocked on the door that lay before you which was opened shortly later by another goblin. Through some impressive deceit, you learned these goblins belonged to the Xanathar Thieve’s Guild and were tasked with holding this tunnel from a den of gricks. Inspired by their fear Badul charged into the mouth of the tunnel, alone. You all began rushing in after him and fought your way through the tight spaces making two interesting discoveries. The first being an upside-down throne with a mummified minotaur and a sleeping Grick Alpha, for which you decided best to let sleeping dogs lie. The second interesting find was a thoroughly terrified man named Kleim the Weasel, the resident coward of the Fine Fellows of Daggerford. An adventuring group of which Caul initially descended the Yawning Portal with. He expressed his interest in leaving the dungeon, and as he and Caul begin to reconnect that’s where we’ll pick up.”
DEBTS OF THE LIVING AND THE DEAD | SESSION 6
“Where we last left off... Through catching up with his fellow adventurer, Caul and company gather that Kelim was separated from the rest of their party and managed to acquire a valuable spellbook though got himself trapped deep in the cavern of gricks and did what he does best which is to survive against all odds. Through Kelim you did gather some information on his and Caul’s old adventuring buddies, The Fine Fellows of Daggerford. The party seemed to consist of Copper Stormforge, a dwarven rogue claimed to be a deceitful prick by Kelim, Halleth Garke, a half-elf cleric of Waukeen claimed to value fairness and hold onto grudges. There’s also Midna Tauberth, a human priestess of Shar valued for her patronage to the Lady of Loss, and finally the cruel and obstinate leader (Kelim’s words) known as Rex the Hammer, a human fighter searching for fame and fortune in Undermountain. Never one to cope well with stress, it was apparent to you that Kelim, the Weasel was scared witless. He wanted nothing more than to abandon this dungeon but did not feel safe making the trek back to the Entry Well alone. As one of the first to liberate Kelim, Peter took on the role of babysitting the Weasel while the rest of you set out to hunt the grick alpha against the pleas and the shameless begging from said resident coward.
Taken surprise by the camouflage capabilities of the grick alpha, and the minotaur skeleton which animated from it’s throne on the ceiling you fought through the tough scaly natural armor of the enormous grick and managed to crush the minotaur skeleton into bone meal. Having experience facing gricks now you managed to evade it’s tentacles for the most part and emerged from the cavern victorious where Peter, your two dogs, and one scaredy cat were waiting for you. As a result of your bravery, the goblins stationed at the Xanathar Obelisk outpost have been relieved of their vigilance, and inspired by Badul have agreed to pass on news of your assistance to their cause. Leaving behind the Obelisk you found your way to the map room, a room with a 30-foot-wide, floor-to-ceiling map carved into the wall. The map seemed to depict undermountain with vague bas-reliefs for each of the seemingly twenty-three levels and adjacent you found three buttons, a flaming skull next to the third level, a comet next to the sixteenth level, and a tower with a rune next to the twenty-third level. Pressing the buttons in order informed you that gate access to Skullport is disabled, gate access to Stardock is accessible from level sixteen only, and gate access to Halaster’s Tower is accessible from level twenty-three only.
In the map room, found at the bottom of a pit, you rescued the revenant form of Halleth Garke. He recognized Caul and Kleim and revealed some more details of how the Fine Fellows of Daggerford disbanded. It seems Halleth was beaten to death for demanding an equal share of the party’s treasure and he believes that Waukeen herself has sent him back to enact vengeance on his treacherous bretheren, a list that previously included Kleim as well (though it doesn’t seem as though he had a hand in Halleth’s death) but through agreeing to help him in his quest and Caul vouching for Kleim’s innocence, the revenant reluctantly agreed to let the Weasel weasel his way out of death’s clutches once again. While the party settled down for a long rest Peter escorted Kleim to the entry well and watched the winch pull him to safety before returning to recuperate with the party. Heading out in the morning through a secret foot path revealed by Halleth, you managed to deceive your way past a goblin raiding party and dispatch two ettins and a mimic that were manning an old forge. Rotating a warhammer on a dwarven statue revealed an evocation based magical circlet which you pocketed, and Jorxkin also managed to find two sacks of treasure stored at the back of the forge, and even Creed stumbled upon a set of stairs that lead beyond Alter’s eye line into complete darkness. Your party stands now at the forge with the two giant bodies slumped motionless on the floor and a partially dissected carrion crawler on the table behind you which is where we’ll pick up. What would you all like to do?”
TWO TRUTHS AND A LIE | SESSION 7
Where we last left off... Electing to rest by the old forge, your party recovered from their trial with the Ettins and the other fearsome denizens of the Dungeon Level. Waking the sounds of bat-like beating of wings, a familiar sound to Alter and Caul having faced them on Stormwreck Isle you entered an old mine shaft where Caul striking a mine cart alerted swarms of stirges to your presence and had it not been for a well placed fireball from Jorxkin, your entrails would’ve made a generous donation to the blood suckers. This barbecue, courtesy of Jorxkin proved useful when backtracking ran your group into three hungry bugbears which you were able to bribe your way past by leading them to the bodies of the stirges where they feasted on the recently dispatched swarm. Heeding Halleth’s concerns of letting one of the members of the Fine Fellows of Daggerford slip through your fingers, you elected to backtrack and explore more parts of the dungeon that you hadn’t fully uncovered. Still unable to bypass the riddle of a bronzed visage you continued through the mysteriously clean and smooth walls of the hallways and stumbled upon one of Halaster’s Magical gates, a mirror that you managed to open by touching the wand of secrets to it. Before you could pass through the gate you all heard a telepathic warning from a female voice that referred to herself as Jhesiyra Kestellharp. The voice warned against traversing the gates for that which lay beyond may prove too difficult a challenge for such a young group of adventurers. Listening to the warning you all continued to map the hall. With Caul in the lead, this time he actually stumbled directly into a gelatinous cube.
Presumably the janitor of these halls you all fled, and using it’s slow speed to your advantage managed to evade getting digested by the acidic enzymes that are the chemical makeup of the gelatinous cube’s viscous interior. Finally spilling the liquid guts of the ooze, you all made a mental note to beware clean rooms and hallways and you proceeded onward. Making your way past a statue of a headless serpent woman, you found a cell with skeletons with cryptic messages in abyssal, an old stone gate, and another gaggle of goblins. This time, the goblins, also associated with the Xanathar Thieve’s Guild, seemed preoccupied with the skeleton of an adventurer who in life was named Nimraith but also distracted by a shattered statue. Friendly towards Badul, and knowing of how your party aided the goblins in fighting back the gricks and the grick alpha you were allowed passage after Peter and Jorxkin reassembled the statue for them.
In trying to avoid a hall of mirrors, you caught some shadows on your trail and with an explosion of radiant fire from Victor’s aasimar form, you shattered the mirrors and the shadows dissipated. Though a keen eye from Jorxkin spotted a bronze mask in an alcove behind one of the mirrors. A mask which when worn facing the puzzle prior opened a portal to a demiplane. Your party was pulled into the demiplane but not before Caul passed through the standing stone gate taking psychic damage and rendering himself invisible for a short period of time. Entering the demiplane, you came face to face with what appeared to be Halaster Blackcloak himself. The entity spoke thus, informing you that you were to ask him three questions and that two of his answers would be true and one would be false. With one very pressing quest at hand, the first question was asked of the locations of all surviving members of the Fine Fellows of Daggerford. The answer to which you assume to have been truthful as some of the locations of these members were well known to you.
THE PRICE OF ANSWERS | SESSION 8
Where we last left off... With one of three precious questions posed to Halaster Blackcloak you have potentially eased your search for the remaining members of the Fine Fellows of Daggerford. Two remaining you put forth the question of where you should find the entrance to Skullport, a subterranean port unknown to the surface world and folk like yourselves but perhaps a home to many a traveller venturing deep within the underdark. The third and final question left to the monk of mercy, bravely seeking aid from the mad mage himself the end that which ails him. He revealed to you all the vampirism which plagues his homeland and which would have plagued Victor as well had he not used an unfinished draft of a cure to fill his mortal body with a whole cast of other ailments of the angelic variety.
Exiting the demiplane you decided it was time to venture down the dark stairway to the Arcane Chambers, where your quests seem to lead and your next targets await vengeance. At the end of a long stairway through complete darkness you came to a tribe of goblins who seemed to run a Bazzar and slave trade for the Xanathar Thieve’s Guild though not a part of the faction themselves. Entering through the side entrance, your party came across a group assembling a stage for the auction of slaves. Learning a bit about Peter’s disposition towards goblins and about his disregard for slavery you waited as he put his woodworking skills into practice and helped them assemble their stage while Alter snuck into what seemed to be a prison where you met a goblin woman named Glom. Entering the Bazzar, you were welcomed graciously, the goblins clearly accustomed to adventurers passing through their level and willing to spend great amounts of money on their steep prices for goods. What they weren’t aware of however, was of your ploy to have Peter distract the guards to the treasury while Alter stealthed past them and filled the bag of holding with all sorts of valuable items. Everything from an ivory chess set, to a chest of silver coins, and a painting of who you later realized was Yek the Tall. Stuttering a bit trying to figure out how to exit the treasury you soon came to realize you had nothing to fret since Peter executed his distraction so flawlessly the guards fully abandoned their posts and set off to go on an adventure themselves to break Glom, the wife of one of the guards out of prison.
It was at this time that you were introduced to the Legion of Azrok. An ambassador with a platoon of armoured hobgoblins marched into the goblin Bazzar and gained an audience with Yek the Tall. Yek being the seemingly flawlessly beautiful leader of this tribe of goblins granted the ambassador an audience and listened to his cries for aid, an attempt to conscript able bodied goblins and men of the arcane chambers to help supply the war effort against the vile drow of House Auvryndar who wage unfettered war against the peace-loving hobgoblins of the Legion of Azrok who have claimed the ruins of Stormkuhldur as their home. With aid from Victor’s mask, Alter was able to conceal her drow heritage in the crowd and when questioned, you were graciously granted safe passage through Stormkuhldur via a small stone painted with a bloody handprint (the symbol of the Legion of Azrok). Indirectly gaining a council with Yek the Tall himself you were allowed entry into the inner halls of the leader of the goblins of the Arcane Chambers. It was here that you found not your missing companions but Copper Stormforge, another member of the Fine Fellows of Daggerford. Manacled as a prisoner of Yek, Copper didn’t stand a chance as Halleth brought a swift execution to the fire-haired dwarf who pleaded to Dumathoin for forgiveness with his last breath. The death of Yek’s prisoner was compensated for courtesy of Victor as his theft of stolen goods only amounted to a measly 30 gp. It was at this point that Alter was beginning to get concerned.
Upon leaving Yek’s throneroom, with him promising to be on the lookout for your missing friends, you watched the Legion of Azrok march out of the room and were informed by a pair of goblin shopkeepers that Yek the Tall is not entirely what he seems. If the shopkeepers are to be believed, Yek the Tall’s stature and flawless features are the result of a magic item called the Circlet of Human Perfection, and Yek’s patronage seems discontented of how the magic has warped his ambitions for their tribe and want something done about it. With this in mind to circle back to at a later date you elected to continue off, still searching for your missing companions.
JORXKIN'S DISAPPEARING ACT | SESSION 9
Where we last left off... Your party continued to move through the goblin Bazaar with pace in search of your missing party members. You came across an abberation (similar to a beholder but smaller) that was looking for it’s lost master (someone named Kalabash). Beyond an off-colour kitchen space and old alchemy laboratory, you found Kalabash’s room and an incomplete summoning circle but no signs of life so again you moved on. It was at this time that Caul and Jorxkin appeared in a separate hallway facing a Gibbering Mouther and decided to flee the scene, running away from the unknown monstrosity and straight into a fight to spare the life of Rex the Hammer who was backed into a corner by two Nothics, and a Mezzoloth. Jorxkin, after showcasing his potential to be a force of evocation to be reckoned with, fell early in the fight to a high level cloudkill, and Rex and Caul were unable to pop him back up with a potion of healing before he bled out suffocating in the cloud of noxious gas. Fighting tooth and nail against the tough exoskeleton of the Mezzoloth and it’s magical capabilities, Caul managed to stand his ground thanks to the relentless endurance of his half-orc nature. After dispatching the remaining enemies with the aid of his former party leader, Rex at his side, Caul felt a surge of madness overcome him at the sight of his fallen ally and as his rage subsided he became flush with memories of the part he played in the betrayal of Halleth Garke. Overcome by the pain and guilt he threw himself at the bewildered Rex, catching him completely off guard. The two men, battered from the harrowing fight drew their weapons and struck true knowing that it would not take much to end this bout.
It seemed as though the adrenaline of Caul’s rage gave him the slight edge he needed on the more seasoned Rex the Hammer, and when he finally came to his senses, Caul was standing alone in the cavern caked in blood and gore. Some of it belonging to his fallen friend, some of it to the leader he once followed, and some still pooling at his feet from his own open wounds.
Caul, realizing what had happened fled the scene and ran into the rest of the League of Legends as your party gathered just outside a room with a floor plated entirely of copper with a Flesh Golem and a Flameskull. A battle commenced and the Flameskull sent bolts of lightning into the floor, electrifying it and nearly killing Caul had it not been for Victor’s healing hands. The Flameskull was eventually brought down from a distance by Alter’s sharp shooting although the Flesh Golem proved to be a challenge without the aid of Jorxkin’s magical sword. Peter’s keen mind, however recalled fire being effective against the amalgam’s regenerative capabilities and brought it down with bolts of fire while Caul and Halleth flanked the creature with flurries of gauntleted fists. Without any time to lose, you all rushed off following Caul to the resting place of Jorxkin and came to the realization that he was beyond recovery by any form of aid Victor could muster. Halleth commended Caul for his defeat of yet another member of the Fine Fellows that wronged him, and a quick search through Jorxkin’s pace revealed a heafty sum of gold, and some assorted adventuring gear as well as a letter of invitation to Dweomercore identifying some familiar and unfamiliar names listed as potentially teachers of select schools of magic, included among them being Halaster Blackcloak and Jhesiyra Kestellharp.
THE DEATH AND LIFE OF WIZARDS | SESSION 10
Where we last left off... Jorxkin’s body was scooped up into the gauntleted forearms of Peter while the League of Legends made a mad dash backtracking through the arcane chambers and making their way to the entry well on the dungeon level. The fee was paid into the bucket and after nothing happened the group suddenly remembered the bell to signal up the well to Durnan. In two separate groups, the party steadily raised up through the darkness into the warm light of the Yawning Portal tavern above. Stepping into the afternoon sunlight pouring in through the windows, it’s possible some adventurers thoughts considered the possibility of leaving the halls of Undermountain behind them, though for others that decision had already been made by forces beyond their control. Caul managed to pull himself away from the draw of the dungeon, and the sounds of cheers and hollering drew to an eerie silence as the pressing situation was made aware to Durnan. Durnan, the seasoned adventurer he is immediately called up the stairs to what potentially would be the closest individual to Jorxkin aside from the lot of you, though it’s hard to tell as Jorxkin’s background isn’t necessarily public information. Maybe even under lock and key to Jorxkin himself. You were greeted by the grim face of Maklin ‘Mak’ Mucklar, a travelling shopkeeper some of you met on better terms upon your initial descent. Through some direction from Durnan, it seemed as though Mak would be able to be of some assistance to your group, and you rushed to follow him through a teleportation portal he had inscribed on the second level of the tavern.
Leaping through space you found yourselves in an extra-dimensional sanctum, similar to when you met Halaster Blackcloak on the dungeon level of Undermountain. This time however, you found yourselves in a cluttered room of various magical items, seemingly a store owned by Mak and as you found out later, titled The Magic Box. Following him through a laboratory/kitchenette of sorts, and through a bedroom, you watched Mak pull a book on a large floor to ceiling bookshelf that turned out to be a secret door leading to a room lit by radiant divine light from an open book where it seemed the beginning arcane sigils of a raise dead spell had already been prepared for you. Truly the emerg of the Forgotten Realms though without the wait times as you are beginning to make friends in high places it seems. As it was explained to you by Mak, who didn’t exactly seem to be an expert himself, Jorxkin’s spirit was currently in limbo and through the aid of the raise dead ritual (a spell scroll Durnan gifted you all) you had a chance to convince the spirit to return to the material plane and resurrect Jorxkin. Time was against you though as the soul’s connection to the material world had already begun it’s process of slow erosion.
Accepting the risks and attempting to right wrongs, Peter placed Jorxkin’s small body in the circle of arcane glyphs and you began the ritual. The first offering came from Victor, a lot of money riding on this with the bet he placed on Jorxkin’s survival in the dead pool. Victor stepped forward and placed the letter of invitation to Dweomercore onto Jorxkin’s body beneath the diamond spell component on his chest and Victor simply invited Jorxkin’s soul to return to the unfinished business he had in Undermountain. The fates accepted the offering, and the first of the three arcane sigils became alight with divine light. The second, a contribution from Alter as she stepped forward and took out a fine Lute with mother-of-pearl inlay. With an aptitude never seen by the likes of her companions, Alter began to play a wonderful melody that filled the room and resonated in the divine light of the ritual. As though plucking on the very strings of the weave itself, Alter brought the second of the three inner circles into the divine light. Finally Caul took a knee before Jorxkin and offered his axe and the support of the League of Legends, attempting again to persuade his soul to return to his body. As the group waited with baited breaths, the final inner sigil burned into a bright white light which was mirrored shortly by the outer ring which shattered into a sphere of diamond dust before entering the body of the gnome whose breath was the next to break the silence of the chamber. As Jorxkin sat up, still feeling the physical toll of his body being literally raised from the dead, he realized his sword still lay magically adhered to his hand and the arcane rune of war remained inscribed in the palm of his other, but he was back.
Grace was given enough to spend a night’s rest in the Yawning Portal before heading back down the well. Despite all the horrors faced thus far, none shied away from the descent, though individual preparations were made including the perusal of the Magic Box, a haggling of sorts between Victor and Old Stannoc over the specifics of the Death and Life of Jorxkin. Alter found time to share a drink with Esvele Rosznar who seemingly shared her fancy for Bonnie, the head of the Yawning Portal’s waitstaff, and exchanged notes with you on the search for her missing brother. A night’s rest was had and you all disappeared into Undermountain once again heeding a final warning from Durnan about the difference between brave and old adventurers. Finding yourselves back in the Arcane Chambers you took a little more time to investigate now that you have reunited with most of your missing companions. Entering Kalabashes room you uncovered and reconstructed, now with help from Jorxkin and Peter, the summoning circle found in the room. The completed circle yielding Kalabash himself, now an Allip the incorporeal remnants of the arcane apprentice he once was. If he is to be believed he uncovered a secret about Halaster Blackcloak protected by an enchantment which prevents him from sharing it with you plainly. Peter impulsively agreed to the Allip’s suggestion of posessing someone to share its findings and you gather that this will be something that will take time, about a month of study, to understand. Kalabash thanked you for saving him from his isolation but his treasury had been spent on booze so you departed leaving him and Blue, the spectator to their melancholy reunion.
Moving northward in search of the elusive Badul, whom would be a welcome face amidst all the other goblins of the court of Yek the Tall, you found a puppet designed in the likeness of Halaster Blackcloak and a ransacked goblin camp. Through a series of winding tunnels you came across a harpsichord made entirely of bones, with human, dwarf, ogre, and halfling finger bones for keys whereupon eerie, sombre music emanates. That’s where we’ll pick up tonight’s session. What would you all like to do?
THE FALL OF YEK THE TALL | SESSION 11
Where we last left off... The League of Legends found themselves exploring the Arcane Chambers. Coming across an eerie, bone harpsichord, which ceased playing upon your entering the room, you decided that given Alter’s musical talents are seemingly saved for critical moments, it was best not to risk failing to play the proper melody and possibly trigger the inevitable trap that lies in wait for you. Moving on, you were surprised to see Badul walk out of a flat, stone wall right in front of your group. Badul, it seems, had stumbled upon a secret door and found another of Halaster’s magic gates. This one depicted falling coins with a small slot in it’s keystone. Heeding the warning from Jhesiyra Kesselharp from the previous gate, you continued onwards. Introducing Badul to the goblin Bazzar proved complicated as they were still on the lookout for the thief that emptied their coffers. When you were stopped and questioned upon entry you needed to come up with answers for the bugbear guards fast and between Peter and Victor stumbling over words (in an attempt to give Alter time to make her getaway) it became apparent that you were hiding something. Badul, with some quick—though not necessarily clever—thinking decided to accuse one of the bugbear guards with bad mouthing one short-tempered goblin vendor. With the right remarks prodded, Badul started a skirmish while Alter and a were-rat made their getaways. Escalating the situation, Badul decided to jump the bugbear and inspire the surrounding goblins to take up arms against Yek the Tall and an all out brawl began in the marketplace.
Through the fray you made your way to the inner court of Yek the Tall, save for Victor who broke away for the prison cells to free some more goblins who he hoped would help fight for their freedom. Within the interior you were met with Yek’s personal guard of a dozen or so goblins and bugbears, two of which were occupied with feeding him grapes oblivious to the ongoing revolution outside. Peter entried for you tanking the volley of arrows from Yek’s armed guard. He was followed closely by Jorxkin who released an enormous fireball which flew over Peter’s shoulder and detonated filling the room with an echoing explosive blast. He and Peter shielded their eyes from the blast and when they turned their gaze back only a charred and burning Yek remained, his beautiful face covered in ash and soot. Seeing the desolation around him, Yek called out to you, “Bree-yark!’ A goblin phrase known by Badul to mean, “We surrender!” Hearing the call, Badul strolled into the chamber to pick up the crown thrown down by Yek, now to be known as Yek the Small as his crown was as expected, a Circlet of Human Perfection which was later identified by Peter to be a magical item which requires attunement by humanoids and effectively transforms the wearer into a beautiful human. It was decidedly a good disguise for the time being for Alter who left the inner chamber to aid Victor in picking the locks to the gibets which he was struggling to force open with a crowbar.
As the battle in the marketplace raged on, with Caul back to back with Halleth trading blows with towering bugbears and dodging volleys of arrows from goblins loyal to Yek, Peter entered with Badul raised on his shoulders carrying the crown. The battle dwindled and ceased as Badul shouted above the crowd, though the specifics of democracy and free will were lost on the Rustbone goblin tribe, Badul threw down the crown and decreed that all were now free and that they would be lead by a tyrant no more. Cheers erupted from the crowd and the revolution had come to fruition. Through conversation you found that most of the goblins would make the trek to Skullport, some would stay and rebuild, and perhaps some others would leave Undermountain and search for a home either in the Underdark or somewhere above ground. While the party moved on with the circlet and the wealth of Yek stowed in the bag of holding, Yek himself was thrown to the mob by Badul to be lynched. Caul elected to stay back and speak with the goblins to keep the peace and see if he could find information about the whereabouts of Skullport where most of the goblins intended to head.
The rest of you moving on came to a fresco cross hall where you continued South to find first another of Halaster’s magic gates—this one with the image of a dead tree carved into its keystone—though beyond the gate, Alter and Badul leading the way ran straight into a zombie beholder which was marked with the symbol of the Xanathar. Narrowly evading being disintegrated by one of the beholder’s eye rays, the party took off in an all out sprint in the other direction. As the beholder gave chase Jorxkin stepped forward and threw up a silent image, an opaque wall perfectly blocking sight from the beholder and saving Badul from its destructive eye rays. Running off down the halls, Victor aided Badul with his healing hands. Making your way back to the fresco cross hall you proceeded East to find a series of tunnels dug cleanly through the stone. This time leading to a large and oddly clean swept room, something you’ve encountered before, though with a seemingly floating dwarven skull in the North-East corner. The sharp eyes of Jorxkin however, were able to point out the glassy-smooth exterior of another gelatinous cube which upon detecting your presence enlarged to a size of thirty feet gelatinous cubed! As you hear the quick footfalls of Caul entering the room from behind you... let’s go ahead and roll initiative!”
DIGESTING THE PAST | SESSION 12
Where we last left off... within the temple of Ooze your party faced off against an enlarged gelatinous cube. Having learned from your experience facing the janitor of the dungeon level, you barricaded yourselves outside the temple with Caul and Halleth readying themselves on either side of the door, and Jorxkin and Alter flinging firebolts and arrows at the massive tidal wave of Ooze that was fast approaching your choke point. Suddenly the door was engulfed by the gelatinous cube and Caul with it consumed by the massive amorphous creature as it squeezed itself through the gap. Halleth unable to pull Caul from the clutches of the Ooze and unable to flee felt the acid burn his rotting flesh. Likewise Caul from within the Ooze felt himself being digested by the creature. Unable to swim his way out Caul instead reached deeper into the Ooze clutching the Duergar skull at the centre and crushed it in his hand causing the creature to suddenly revert to its normal reduced size expelling Caul from its clutches finally to be brought down by another volley of arrows and firebolts from Alter and Jorxkin.
Of the many doors out of the temple of Ooze, one was found to lead to an altar topped with what seemed to be a misshapen mound of gold. Alter, drawn to the immense treasure could not seem to make out the deity depicted in the wall carvings and also failed to ascertain the true nature of the “mound of gold” which was in fact an ochre jelly lying in wait. As Alter attempted to lift the treasure from the altar she felt her hands plunge into the acidic Ooze and she called out for Caul. As Alter by the altar called for Caul and Jorxkin jerked off, the battle commenced. Devastating blows from Caul’s great-axe blew apart the Ooze though each time he brought the axe down it seemed to split the Ooze into smaller and smaller versions of itself eventually small enough to no longer be of threat to your crew though upon exiting his rage Caul fell unconscious and was thrown onto Creed’s back while you investigated the other exits from the temple.
In his unconscious state, Caul relived the nightmare that was the separation of his past party, the Fine Fellows of Daggerford. He saw Copper Stormforge, Rex the Hammer, Midna Tauberth, and Kleim the Weasel overcome by greed and pulled in different directions by their own desires leading to the heartless murder of Halleth Garke, and the attempt at the same to Caul and Kleim causing them to flee their camp and leave their party behind as both in their time made their way onwards and upwards to better things and Caul now hopefully to a party that realizes their strengths lie within their reliance on each other. As he woke from his stupor Caul tried the only door Alter hadn’t checked for traps, opening it and unleashing a tidal wave of salt water which caught both of you in the deluge. After the flooding had subsided you managed to salvage a glass wand from the wreckage of what might have been a laboratory at one point.
Following out of the room and down a hallway, you came across the Spider Eyes Watch Post. One of two watch posts on this level belonging to the Xanathar Thieve’s Guild. The other of which you were forcibly denied entry to by their Zombie Beholder whom proved a quite effective bouncer. This hallway however, had your party literally stumbling upon a den of sleeping bugbears. In your absence of caution your entry awoke the bugbears and as arrows were loosed and it looked as though a massive battle was about to ensue, the drider, Shunn Shurreth showed his spider eyed face and surprisingly resorted to diplomacy. Instead of wiping the floor with your adventuring band and dragging you to the Xanathar himself, Shunn Shurreth negotiated with you. In exchange for helping them deal with a common enemy of the Xanathar, a group of were-rats called the Shard Shunners, Shunn claimed he could provide your group with safe passage past the other Xanathar Thieve’s Guild watch post if you recovered for him a stone key which is now believed to be in possession of the were-rats. Having seemingly come to an arrangement, you were offered a safe night’s respite at the Spider Eyes Watch Post and took a long rest. A rest only broken by a conversation between Caul, Halleth, and Shunn Shurreth where you discussed Halleth’s quest for vengeance and learned the whereabouts of the Hall of Degeneration and in passing learned of Shunn Shurreth’s curse that turned him into a drider. A curse which he welcomed given his position in service to the Xanathar as it allowed him to command his crew with a measure of fear and respect.
Leaving in the morning heading East in the direction of the Hall of Degeneration you found your way to Midna’s lair. Midna Tauberth, adorned with her Sharran holy symbol and Halleth’s symbol of Waukeen, had found comfort in the Hall of Degeneration and become a master of a small army of living unseen servants. Truly terrified to see the revenant risen from the dead, Midna managed to evade being assassinated by Alter and put up a fight but was eventually pinned to the wall by an arrow and her neck was snapped by Halleth who reclaimed his holy symbol and left a map of the Sargauth level of undermountain with a waypoint of Skullport marked upon it for those that aided in laying him to rest. With the last of those that wronged him slain, Halleth disintegrated into dust that crashed down upon Midna’s broken body. The League of Legends, you now find yourself amidst the empty bookshelves and desks that line the walls of this room. You have found a moment’s rest if you wish to relax in any of the many comfortable chairs in this room. There stands a long banquet table bearing fresh foodstuffs on copper platters and copper flaggons filled to the brim with wine. You’ll need to serve yourself as the unseen servants have lived their last breaths, and by Alter’s choice the portrait of Halaster Blackcloak that hanged above the banquet table has been replaced with the stolen painting of the late Yek the Tall. What would you like to do?”
NOTHIC TO SEE HERE! | SESSION 13
Where we last left off... The League of Legends, having completed Halleth’s quest of vengeance dined in Midna’s Lair amongst the spoils of the late departed. Taking advantage of the bounty, Victor elected to make up some pouches of rations and mull over the map bequeathed to you as a thank you from Halleth. In Caul’s conversation with the goblins and bugbears that were making their way to Skullport, and in your analysis of this map, should both be truthful, you were able to surmise that the noted path to Skullport is one of a few. The long crevasse running the length of the map, you were able to identify as the river Sargauth, a brackish and mineral-laden subterranean river in the Northdark (a region of the Underdark) that runs into the port of Skullport as well. The third and final path you know of is a three day trek through caverns exiting from the Arcane Chambers which was the route taken by the Legion of Azrok. After your recent brush with death, where Badul barely evaded being turned to a pile of ash, you decided your best chance of bypassing the Zombie beholder, who guarded the Xanathar Guild’s Dead Eyes watchpost, was in taking Shunn Shurreth up on his deal to track down the Wererats and eliminate them in order to return the stolen stone key to the drider and his men. Alter and Creed lead the way moving with practiced silence. Tracking the wererat you had caught sight of earlier slipping away from the goblin bazaar, you all slipped past the babbling of the gibbering mouthers once again and Creed picked up the scent and followed the clawed footprints to a Wall of Rust and Bone.
A barrier like a mausoleum forged in violence. Hobgoblin skeletons fused with rusted armour, each skull locked in a permanent scream. Every joint was pinned with iron spikes, weapons driven through sternums like nails into wood. With a few hacks from Caul’s battleaxe the wall was brought clattering to the ground. The noise summoned a group of Nothics that were lurking in the nearby water-closets. These hunched, misshapen humanoids with a large, single green eye that dominated their face. With a bright green flash from behind the sundered wall you were all able to evade the horrific gaze of the Nothics and thus avoid the flesh being rotted from your bones. When you looked back however, your assailants had scattered and you all rushed directly into their killbox soon finding yourselves flanked on all sides by these monsterous creatures that now hacked and slashed into you with terrible talons. Easily and quickly cowed by displays of magic, however, the Nothics fled to the water-closets cornered by Creed and Caul. At the command of Alter and Peter, the dogs tore the heavily wounded Nothics to shreds and the final Nothic’s miserable head was freed from its wretched shoulders by Caul’s blade landing with a satisfying plop in the stone toilet. With an immense feat of strength, Caul then ran through the locked door blocking the parties path and dropped his shoulder splitting the wooden barricade in half. The next door however shimmered with the magical blue light of an arcane lock. However, this didn’t stop Caul from trying as he slammed his shoulder repeatedly into the steadfast door concealing the wererat hideout.
As the rest of the party searched the surrounding area for other means of bypassing the magical door a telepathic voice entered Alter’s mind the voice of a drow mage named Rizzeryl pleaded with your party, their oppressors, to turn against the Xanathar Guild, to work together to eliminate Nadia the Unbent, a “brute of a woman with a penchant for violence.” Leader of the Dead Eyes watchpost of the Arcane Chambers, and your employer, Shunn Shurreth, a “Spider-faced drow cursed by the goddess Lolth.” Leader of the Spider Eyes watchpost your party stumbled upon earlier. While the rest of the party cleared the path ahead of two rust monsters which were burned alive as Peter cast heat metal on a rusty iron sconce they were fighting over, Alter weighed the offer but eventually made the executive decision that the wererats would be easier to deal with than the Xanathar outposts and perhaps later down the line will prove better timing to betray the beholder crime boss. Continuing to search for other entrances into the wererat hideout, you stumbled directly into a web of giant spiders. Watching the vibrations run down the long cords of silk you had but moments to prepare yourselves as these monstrous arachnids crawled across the walls and ceiling down the hall towards what they expected to be their next meal. Launching sticky strands of webbing from their abdomens the cluster of spiders managed to ensnare Caul and Peter but luckily couldn’t pierce their mandibles through their suits of armour which protected the two until the monsters and webs were finally brought down with volleys of flame, arrows, and javelins. Your party was knee deep in spiderwebs looting the giant spider warren when Jorxkin remembered he had the tome from Kleim the Weasel and flipping through the pages landed on the spell, dispel magic which he realized would have that arcane lock open in a sinch.
FIRE IN THE HOLE! | SESSION 14
Where last we left off... The League of Legends once again found themselves on the wrong side of a difficult door. After a multitude of creative attempts to bypass said obstacle and with a lingering mild pain in Caul’s shoulder it was surmised that this arcane lock need be dispelled before you could hold up your end of the arrangement with Shunn Shurreth and exterminate the vermin they called the Shard Shunners. Without time to lose Jorxkin began transcribing dispel magic from the tome he received from Kleim the Weasel while Peter and Balagos stood guard outside the Wererat Hideout. The rest of the party, with some time to kill, ensured there were no secret doors the Wererats could escape from then left to fetch Victor from the Halls of Degeneration to join them for the coming fray. Victor having prepared rations for the party took some time to study Halleth’s map of the Sargauth level until the rest of the League of Legends returned to share their findings and re-recruit him to the cause.
Upon your return to the now deconstructed wall of rust and bone, you heard the familiar and maddening cacophonous gibbering of the amorphous mass of mouths and eyes which now stood in your path. A not so stealthy approach left the oozing mound of flesh wounded but murmuring and chattering with an all-consuming drive to devour all foolish enough to approach. At this time Peter rushed into the fray drawn by the commotion but leaving Balagos to protect Jorxkin whom followed shortly after as Peter was met with three more Gibbering Mouthers turning the corner spewing blinding spittle and babbling incoherently instilling madness in all those close enough to hear it. Victor and Caul, caught off guard by the flank of flashing chemical globs and biting toothy maws became wrought with confusion. Victor fell before the herd of Mouthers as Alter ran in and fed him a goodberry only to fall herself moments after. With the aid of Peter and Jorxkin joining the fight and launching a barrage of fire against the wall of flesh together you finally brought down the herd and the silence returning to the hall was music to your ears.
With Jorxkin resuming his scripture from his spellbook, the rest of you settled down to a short rest outside the wererat hideout taking watch to make sure you are not ambushed in the dead end hallway you chose to reside in. Luckily that was not the case, and with Jorxkin prepared to dispel the arcane lock that lay glimmering on the threshold the rest of you readied your weapons for the upcoming battle. As the blue shimmer faded and the door was blasted open a volley of arrows flew from within as you released arrows and javelins of your own, the latter of which embedded itself slightly off target in the door thrusting it closed once again to the displeasure of Alter whose arrow flew full force into the closing door as well. Flying into a rage, Caul breached the door with Peter and the rest of the League of Legends at his back as more arrows planted themselves into his adamantine armour. Blades clashed within the room and the same disembodied voice filled your ears trying to reason with you to no avail. Jorxkin slapped bat-shit and sulfur into his palm sending a fireball streaking into and detonating within the small room. The blast, which engulfed Caul in flames, left few wererats standing and the scorched few that remained realized Caul was not to be reasoned with as he cut down the remaining hybrids and snapped the neck of the final Shard Shunner with a satisfying crack.
Suddenly a shock of lightning shot through all that stood within the Wererat hideout from the invisible entity. Bones rattling and smoke rising from your burned bodies, Alter managed to absorb some of the lightning burst and retorted with a faerie fire that filled the corridor with magical flames which revealed to you the drow mage, Rizzeryl the male worshipper of Lolth and leader of the gang of wererats that used to call the Arcane Chambers home. Now visible, Rizzeryl was quickly brought to deaths door and promptly gave up the location of the stone key and his crew’s other valuables including a broach of House Auvryndar, a silver scepter, and a book of smut Out of the Inferno, Vols. 1, 2, and 3 hopefully in exchange for his life. A plea which was granted as you realized there was a loophole to the deal you made with Shunn Shurreth as Rizzeryl himself is not a wererat. Rizzeryl embarrassed when questioned by Alter, a fellow drow, about his smut collection turned invisible once again fleeing deeper into the Arcane Chambers at your allowance. The group of you now stand amidst the wreckage of fire and ruin that was once the homestead of the Shard Shunners. The tabletop stone map has been blown to smithereens as the table split and ignited upon being struck by the ball of fire. Able to regain his composure however, Caul began arm-wrestling members of the League of Legends atop the broken table to great success. As Peter and Caul clasp arms across from each other and Caul’s strength finally falters that’s where we’ll pick up tonight’s session.
BADUL SUB-PLOT | SESSION 15
So, last we left off... the League of Legends in discovering that the path to Skullport and the rest of Undermountain still lay blocked by the Dead Eyes Xanathar Watchpost, so named for the Zombie Beholder bouncer, set out to reclaim a stone key that was stolen from a dryder, Shunn Shurreth. Successful in your endeavour and after resting up you returned the stone key to the Spider Eyes Watchpost and were paid 100gp and a driftwood wand emblazoned with the symbol of the Xanathar which you were told would allow you to safely bypass the Dead Eyes Watchpost. Seeing as your party would likely be moving on soon, Peter took it upon himself to return to the goblin Bazaar and collect blades from the fallen goblins and reclaim the wood from the rustbone auction stage all to be brought to the forge on the Dungeon level to put his metalworking skills to use.
During this time, the rest of the party were relieved to find that the Zombie Beholder recoiled into the tall, dark ceiling after the party produced the symbol of Xanathar and thus were allowed entry into the Dead Eyes Watchpost. It was here that the party was greeted by Nadia the Unbent, a brute of a woman with one scarred eye, tight braids, and a great-axe strapped to her back, not unlike Caul. She and her crew appeared to be training by trying to knock their opponent out of the ring and Caul stepped up answering to her challenge to see who could best the other with a quarterstaff. As the match dragged on, neither Caul nor Nadia able to knock the other out of the ring, the two closed even tighter together where now face to face they exchanged blows until finally Caul was able to duck under a wild swing from Nadia and catch her in the small of her back throwing her off balance and out of the ring. Having earned her respect Caul begrudgingly was dragged away from the giant woman, whom he claimed was flirting with him, by the rest of the party as they struck out for the next level of Undermountain. Skirting past two animated ballistae that literally stood guard to a door which lead to elsewhere on the Arcane Chambers, the League of Legends descended once again into darkness having faced the mythic horrors of Undermountain and emerged scarred but victorious vowing to stand strong together having learned from the Fine Fellows of Daggerford what happens to parties that splinter apart.
Sometimes such decisions however, are out of your control. Badul it would seem, had been the target of some magical intervention by Halaster Blackcloak, now finding himself on the wrong side of one of Halaster’s Magic gates. Unable to figure out how to open the portal, or perhaps curious to the wonders that lay in wait on the Lost Level, Badul poked around the surrounding rooms. Finding most barren and stripped of anything of value save for a silver key, Badul couldn’t help but feel a sense of impending doom as many of these hallways and doors had been reduced to rubble as if some massive hulking creature had forced its way through. Disregarding the warnings and ignoring the telepathic voice of Jhesiyra Kestellharp urging him to flee, Badul found himself face to face with an Umber Hulk, an abominable horror from deep beneath the earth with enormous insectoid visage meant to confound its quarry. A the monster exploded out of a nearby wall in a shower of earth and rock, Badul felt its claws rake across his exposed chest before he conjured a shroud of blue mist to teleport out of its mandibles into an all out sprint as fast as his tiny legs could carry him. Soon finding the Umber Hulk to be gaining on him as it burrowed through the solid stone walls of the cavern, Badul leaped into an overturned wardrobe and held his breath for what felt like hours waiting for the sounds of the behemoth’s foot falls to subside. When he felt it safe to make for the exit, Badul dashed past the Xorn and produced a dagger before the portal whereupon touching the metal to the picture of a rust monster on the keystone, the dagger dissolved into rust and the portal shimmered alive with activity offering a much needed freedom to Badul into the Dead Eyes Watchpost on the Arcane Chambers where he was directed by the ever helpful Nadia to his waiting companions in the seemingly abandoned caverns of the Sargauth Level.
Delighted to have his friend back, Caul hoisted Badul onto his shoulders and rushed ahead directly into the lair of a Chiemera, a three-headed monstrosity with the hindquarters of a large goat, the front paws and mane of a lion, and the leathery wings of a dragon, along with the heads of all three. With your party close behind you, but with Badul heavily wounded from his excursion you had to think quickly which came more naturally to Badul than Caul and the goblin conjured an illusion of an enormous goblin hunched over in the cavern managing to scare the beast into the corner where it reared its dragon head back and filled the small space with a wall of fire. Scorching rays from Jorxkin quickly gave the Chimera back a taste of its own medicine before Caul brought his axe down on the dragon head, cleaving it clean off. Fighting tooth and nail to the bitter end, the cries of the goat head were finally cut silent by an arrow from Alter leaving you all standing in awe at the treasure hoard before you. With Peter’s work complete he likewise found his way to Nadia the Unbent where he to was lead to the Sargauth Level and seems to have followed the sounds of battle to catch up with Badul and the rest of the party. As Badul collapses, exhausted onto his share of the treasure trove of the defeated Chimera that’s where we’ll pick up tonight’s session.
BOO-TY HUNTERS | SESSION 16
Badul left to sleep off his exhaustion, the rest of the party reunited with Peter and decided to continue pushing onwards, unable to stop with Halleth’s map showing the route to Skullport so close though with a quick detour to check out a series of catacombs Jorxkin and Badul stumbled upon when they made a wrong turn. The walls of the burial chambers were inscribed with Dwarvish script reading, “To ancestors past, we salute. To sons and daughters, we beg.” Paired with the symbol of Dumathoin, a mountain with a gem at its heart, these tombs were figured to be testaments to the bitter end of the Melairkyn clan. The original inhabitants and craftsmen that carved Undermountain. Victor identified a corpse Alter found leading out of the catacombs, it appeared to have bite marks on its neck and the skin from the chest had peeled outwards as though something emerged from within. After looting the body, Alter managed to track three more gricks into their nest where together you all made short work of them.
The grick tunnel a dead end, the League of Legends decided they’d need to travel through Drow Town to get to the river Sargauth. The town in question you were expecting however, appeared to be mostly ruins of crumbling stone buildings held together by giant spider webs weaved through the alleyways which themselves were patrolled by more giant spiders. Not wanting to take on the whole of House Auvryndar, your party waited for the opportune moment between the patrols to dash across the street to the first building. Unfortunately this happened to be a latrine as Alter and Victor opened the door to find themselves face to face with an indecent male drow who was rightfully embarrassed and upset. Tucking down another alley quickly, you found more buildings housing other creatures. Troglodytes and Grimlocks respectively and you quickly closed the doors to each of those awful smelling rooms as well. Finding yourselves at a dead end with a giant spider blocking your way the party was saved by some quick thinking from Alter who got the jump on the patrol and managed to silence the beast before it even knew what hit it. Removing the body from the street however had Caul running straight into a series of webs which alerted another patrol. At this point the gig was up, the League of Legends broke into an all out sprint South to the River Sargauth flinging firebolts, arrows, javelins, and fists at anything that stood in your path. Managing to outrun a group of drow that were loudly telling tales of battle, you all found your way safely out from Drow Town.
Though the tunnels continued along the land forking into the darkness and to a stone door, your party continued towards the sound of rushing water where you found a beach with zurkwood log rafts lashed together with thick ropes of spider silk. Commandeering the 10 foot poles to manoeuvre the rafts through the flowing river, you continued downstream a ways passing by a mouth of jagged rocks which concealed a cocoon forest. Run aground on the opposite beach a skeletal ferryman waved from his black gondola where beyond another stone door could be seen. Fighting off Minotaur skeletons which breached the now rapidly moving river, a charge from one of the undead meant to split your boat in twain was stopped dead in the water by Caul who grabbed onto the final beast’s horns before reducing all to bones which sank beneath the current. On the South bank of the riverside cavern among cliffs which resembled a clamshell you encountered the ghosts of three human pirates named Algarr Grimtide, Liddie “Slurtongue” Peddlekant, and Fishbone Jim. Though not particularily helpful towards your cause, were sympathetic to Caul as they too had lost their lady somewhere in Undermountain along with, it would seem, their buried treasure. After searching the beach you figured they must have forgotten where their treasure was buried or someone had already dug it up so as to not crush their spirits, Caul stealthily took the small iron chest from his back and locked it and tossed it in one of the nearby sand pits. The ghost pirates where overjoyed to have found their treasure and all dissipated into mist hollering and singing.
CURRENT EVENTS | SESSION 17
Having helped to lay the ghosts to rest you turned back to the zurkhwood rafts you tied off on the clam-shell cliffs to notice what looked like engravings on stalactites on the opposite wall of the riverside cavern. It seemed to be an old sea shanty which read: If Skullport’s where ye wish to be, With the Sargauth’s flow go ye. If pirate booty is what ye crave, Fight the surge to the captain’s grave. Certain now your party was on the right path you continued to ply the rafts through the narrow corridor until you were descended upon by what appeared to be dancing lights but you soon to find were shockingly annoying Will-o’-wisps. The tiny ghostly creatures proved tedious to deal with as they moved very fast zipping by your rafts and shocking you as they did so before blinking out entirely invisible. However, the League of Legends have played these games before, and Alter’s faerie fire turned the Will-o’-wisps into a duck hunt as your party sent volleys of ranged attacks up towards the ceiling to snuff out their lights for good. The final Will-o’-wisp being taken out by Badul who was sailing the River Sargauth on a huge black gondola which was being ferried by a black-robed tiefling skeleton clutching a 10-foot pole. Badul it seems also had made his way through Drow Town relatively unscathed. From there, I wish I could tell you it was smooth sailing to Skullport but just around the next bend Alter caught sight of a pair of drow assassins lying in wait to ambush you from the North ledge overlooking the river. Having to think fast as the current was pulling you into the crossfire Jorxkin fabricated an illusory raft mirroring that of his own to send first as a decoy. The illusion however, passed through the channel unscathed so your party followed with weapons drawn.
Suddenly, one of the drow archers was tackled into the river with a splash by a burly bugbear followed by the rest of the Legion of Azrok’s warband. As more drow from the South ledge popped their heads out to return fire you all found yourself very immediately in the middle of the war that waged on for control over this floor. With the rest of the party hesitant to make any sudden movements, the decision fell to Badul. With your party’s recent incursion in Drow Town, and the good fortune you left with the Xanathar Guild on the previous levels it felt right to Badul to take the drow out of the picture but as he released his eldritch blast he slipped on some water that had splashed into the boat and his dark magic found its way to the heart of a bugbear just as he crested the South cliffside. Unfortunately Badul’s companions interpreted this as a decisive decision from Badul and proceeded to release arrows and firebolts towards Badul’s target killing the bugbear. The bugbear’s guerrilla fighting style had secured them the North bank but at significant range their javelins were no match for the drow archers who shrouded themselves in magical darkness and popped out of the bubble to loose poisoned arrows, Alter falling immediately in stride with their strategy as well. Your party plied your armada of ships to the South bank and climbed the cliffs to join the fight, all the while Victor standing between Jorxkin and the bugbears catching and hurling back any javelins that came his way.
With the casters safely escorted to the South bank Jorxkin and Badul began their barrage. Opening with the detonation of a fireball directly on a cluster of the bugbears many turned to ash where they stood and others pulled back licking their wounds; but they soon found there was nowhere to hide as Badul pointed his black blade across the river to open a gateway to the dark between the stars letting through the cold void and the inky black grasping tendrils of the eldritch horror known as Hadar. The leader of the drow then pulled a grappling hook and rope of spider silk from her belt and anchored it around a stalactite to swing across the river and land on the other side where she began to cut the surviving bugbears to ribbons. As the rope swung back to the South bank Caul followed suit and caught two bugbears with a mighty swing of his axe just as they stumbled out of the darkness. As the Hunger of Hadar faded, Caul (who found himself now realizing himself to be deaf) and the leader of the drow both noticed one surviving bugbear trying to run off through the tunnels. The chase began. Caul deaf and a little dumb, and Peter effectively blind, it’s not surprising that it was Victor’s fleet footwork and Alter’s superior darkvision which helped them be the ones to catch up to the wounded bugbear. Brought down by an arrow just before he slipped out of view, Victor dragged the bugbear back to the riverside.
Thankful to the strangers that came so heavily to their aid, the drow introduced themselves in undercommon. The leader was a female elite warrior named Meridin Helvirae, and her surviving male drow archers called themselves Quilolvir, and Molkoth. She warned you of a hobgoblin phalanx blocking the way to the Twisted Caverns and she commanded your party to, “Return upstream and land on the West bank among the web curtains.” Where you were to present yourselves and bend the knee to the T’rissa, the Priestess of Lolth. Longing to push ever onward to Skullport but respecting the drow warrior’s demands in your weakened state, you stowed your rafts and Jorxkin set up the dome for a long rest before you began the long journey of plying your rafts (minus the gondala because Badul decided to fistbump the ferryman instead of paying him) back upstream to the den of House Auvryndar. During the final watch, Alter was warned by Meridin, “There is strength in loyalty—and consequence in defiance. When the blood dries and the caverns fall silent, you will want to be remembered as allies… not remains.” Additionally a lone hobgoblin centurion was spotted on the far bank only to depart shortly after none-the-wiser as you had dumped the bodies in the river.
Having made your way to the cave of web curtains which abuts the now sluggish River Sargauth, you begin to ply your rafts towards shore. Caul, however, stands near the edge of the raft, watching the dark water churn below. His great-axe rests across his back, but even he seems tense—shoulders tight, breath shallow. Balagos begins barking madly, the water shudders then breaks as a shadow, an amorphous body of darkness, rises from the depths grasping him and pulling him down with surprising speed and strength. There’s a splash, a strangled roar—and then Caul vanishes beneath the waves. The rest of you turn too late. More shadows emerge from the gloom, gliding across the water like predators sensing blood and Peter and Jorxkin are likewise yanked beneath the dark waves. Let’s go ahead and roll initiative.
TESTS OF LOLTH | SESSION 18
Where we last left off... Caul, aboard the zurkwood raft, stared listlessly into the river Sargauth but where the rest of the party saw the brackish water that flows through the Underdark into Skullport, Caul saw hundreds of pale, lifeless faces beneath the surface. Elves, humans, orcs—all long dead, their corpses untouched by time, staring upward through the gloom with cold, accusing eyes. As he moved closer, peering into the dark water churning below. His reflection melted away and a corpse looked back at him opening its mouth with a sudden shriek of wind which tore through the chamber. A hand—thin, white, and rotted—lunged from the water and seized his wrist. He gasped, trying to pull away, but another hand grabed his ankle, and then another. The surface shattered around him, rippling with pale light as the dead pulled at him, whispering in tongues no living man should know. With a cry, he fell forward—into the pool, into the cold embrace of the forgotten dead. Beneath the surface there was no light. Only faces. Pale, luminous, and endless. Their eyes glowed faintly, mournful and cruel. They opened their mouths but not to breathe. They sang. Caul thrashed, bubbles streaming from his mouth. His heartbeat pulsing against his chest—fast, urgent, afraid. As he struggled to draw his axe and break free from the grasping hands he felt equally cold and dead hands but strong and pulling him upwards. Caul gasped and coughed but he was alive. A familiar face in Halleth dragged him to shore eyes wide.
Halleth’s return it seems had came with a warning. He told Caul that Undermountain takes things, the threads that tell who someone is. Unspooling people. He warned that memories aren’t carved in stone, they’re written in fog. To Halleth’s eye, or more likely Waukeen’s, the river didn’t try to drown Caul but rather rewrite him. He told Caul the first sign would be silence where there used to be song. The second would be when questions go unanswered and comfort is found in that ignorance. His last words were, “Remember who you are Caul—even when you wish the lies to be truth.” Then he turned, leaving wet footprints that faded far too quickly for someone walking in this world.
During this time the rest of the party were fighting for every breath of air as manifestations of darkness, shadows it seemed, pulled Caul, Peter, and Jorxkin beneath the waves trying to drown them in the river and when you were so close to your destination too. With help from the divine radiance of Victor’s exalted form Alter and Badul cleared the shadows from the water around him despite each of their own shadows draining strength from them. Freed and perhaps the only one with the strength to best the rapids of the river, Victor dived back in with Peter, Badul, and Alter close behind him on the rafts. A salvo of from the lead raft brought down another of the shadows as Victor pulled Jorxkin to the surface just as he was scumming to the depths of the river. It was here that Caul’s body was spotted drifting towards the mouth of a cave of black pebbles. Victor preoccupied with helping Jorxkin onto Alter’s raft left the task of saving Caul to Peter and Badul. Tying fifty feet of rope around the goblin’s waist and hurling him spinning through the air like a discus had him landing on the unconscious Half-Orc and it was Badul, not Halleth who pulled Caul to safety with most of the leg work coming from Peter who hoisted the two of them onto the raft like an adamantine anchor.
Safe on shore once again, those that suffered the worst of the bout elected to rest up on the beach while the rest of the party pushed through the wind tunnel of off-shore breeze soaked cobwebs that led into the heart of House Auvryndar territory. Just before reaching the temple however, you stumbled across a mad Dryder who seemed to believe the wailing winds was Lolth punishing him for failing her test. Playing the situation intelligently as to avoid being on the receiving end of the Dryder’s demented rage, Victor recalled a tale of a hero of Chessenta named Athreos whom alongside his lover Alirios sailed the Sea of Fallen Stars without a single sole lost to the sirens song for the crew had all filled their ears with wax allowing The Faire to pass through unscathed. Drawing on inspiration from this tale, the party coated two ball bearings in wax and Alter persuaded the Dryder to put them in his ears earning him some much needed respite and just like the Sea Maiden’s Faire from the story, The League of Legends passed through the wailing tunnels unscathed.
Your party emerged in the bowels of House Auvryndar which, to the delight of some of you, was found to be a sex dungeon. Stumbling upon two drow ladies engaging in a consensual act of torture in the whipping room, Ghirith, the dominatrix politely asked Alter to wait her turn and your party was brought before the matron of Lolth. Within the temple your party gained audience with the High Preistess T’rissa Auvryndar. When Victor dared speak out of turn, T’rissa humiliated him and demanded silence from all but Alter. After some sharp words and veiled threats, Alter boldly flirted with the princess and accepted the Tests of Lolth to prove her loyalty, swearing fealty to House Auvryndar on behalf of the party. In return, the group would be granted passage to and from Skullport by means of the river Sargauth and allowed to keep the treasure stolen from the slain chimera—under the condition you would assassinate the hobgoblin warlord Azrok as sellswords to end the war between the Legion and the drow house.
Collecting the rest of the party from the shoals of the river Sargauth, all but one of you found a peaceful nights rest in the opulent halls of House Auvryndar. Alter however, skulked through the shadowed corridors entering the intimately decadent lounge perhaps to take up Ghirith on her offer. Before fading to black, Alter did pick up some information from the loose-lipped drow ladies, notably; that T’rissa’s sister Melith has taken a small force down to the Twisted Caverns, and that House Auvryndar’s main stronghold is deeper beneath Undermountain and is in the command of T’rissa’s mother, Vlonwelv.
THE BLIND LEADING THE BLIND | SESSION 19
Where last we left off, with the League of Legends rousing in the red room of House Auvryndar, surrounded by tools and weapons of pleasure and pain, Badul was lucky enough to obtain a magical item from the Drow pleasure room. This is a surprise tool that will help us later. The other short of stature party member however, seemed to be scumming to the claustrophobic nightmare of undermountain as Jorxkin jumped up and ran in circles around the stone table before stubbing his toe and falling prone. The rest of the party you made your way towards T’rissa’s hall where you were told by Ilnor Telenna, a drow mage that T’rissa was waiting for you by the Abyssal Circle where the ritual was to be completed.
Stepping into the Abyssal Circle Alter passed the wisdom saving throw against the zone of truth rendering her free to speak truthfully or have the agency to lie. T’rissa then shared the details of the Test of Lolth with Alter alone. As Alter was completing the ritual, the rest of the party save for Victor, made their way back up to the prison where Peter, with his gifted mind for magical inventions created a Badulotov Cocktail. Badul “created a distraction” while Peter conjured a fog cloud and the rest of the party joined in the hijinks to break Marta Moonshadow, the sunelf prisoner of House Auvryndar out of solitary confinement. Before the grimlocks could make paste out of the disorderly Badul, Caul rushed in and picked up Badul while Alter scolded him for getting out of line. Telenna did not seem pleased but with Alter being closely followed by T’rissa and the other drow, both she and the grimlocks dropped their accusations. T’rissa killed one of the grimlocks on the spot and replaced them with Troglodytes. Peter’s rope was left by the door but perhaps it went unnoticed thanks to Alter’s flirting with the priestess.
Alas, with Marta safely in Alter’s locket, Raven’s Slumber, the party made their way down the river Sargauth once again to track down the Hobgoblin Phalanx that marked the entrance into legion territory. Electing to leave Marta on the beach with Balagos for company, the League of Legends pushed onward through no mans land. Alter equipping the Circlet of Human Perfection to turn into Megan Fox from Transformers 2007, Caul was designated the new face of the group which immediately almost landed the party in hot water as he nearly forgot about the travel visa you received when you first encountered the Legion in the rustbone goblin Bazaar. Though with the visa produced and a seeming likliness the Hobgoblin captain, Kliyuse the Skull Cleaver, took to Caul’s rivaled strength in the face of his soldiers, your party was granted an escort into Azrok’s Hold. Your party was registered and provided with identification papers containing caricature drawings of yourselves and mostly factual information about your physical descriptions and home cities save for Alter and Jorxkin.
You were then finally brought into Azrok’s Hall where you all knelt before the Hobgoblin Warlord and sweared fealty to him. It was here that Alter caught sight of a familiar ring and finger Azrok claimed belonged to Kressando Rosznar whom he was displeased with the level of respect the boy showed to him in his attempt to arrange a slavery ring in Undermountain and thus decided to gut his corpse and feed it to some creature he called the otyugh. Leaving on good terms with the Warlord after the story Caul shared of the arrowhead he wears around his neck, the party was shown to their lodgings by a dashing goblin named Borat who very clearly fancied Megan Fox from Transformers 2007, which who can blame him. Retiring to the safety of your visitors’ quarters, you began to plan the assassination of Azrok, taking specific note of the solid stone walls of all the houses in Stormkuldur but also the dilapidated straw rooftops. Jorxkin began jumping between the beds before Peter threw a ball bearing at him, missed him then watched as it bounced off the wall and rolled under Jorxkin’s foot sending him sprawling directly onto the blade of the cursed sword that is still attached to his hand. Victor begrudgingly healed Jorxkin. Which lead to a knock at the door as Lurkana brought up that which you already were aware of, Azrok’s condition as a result of his lost magical dagger. Being adventurers Lurkana requested of your party to help find the dagger and return it to him. She believes the dagger to be located somewhere in Skullport and she encouraged you to speak with Skullport’s ambassador, a mind flayer residing in Azrok’s Hold.
Lurkana, flanked by her two guards awaits your response to her plea for you to come to her husband’s aid. You all stand at the ready, contemplating the political ramifications of whether you’re still on the right side of this war, but for some perhaps your minds have already been made up. Regardless it is still midday despite there being no sun to go off of, Azrok’s Hold is still bustling with activity. After responding to Lurkana you will have the opportunity to plan how you’ll end the war waging on this level. You also passed by many buildings and curious characters upon entry to the camp and may want to poke about to get some more information. What would you like to do?
THE PSIONIC GAMBIT | SESSION 20
So, last we left off, the League of Legends had been left with a proposition from Lurkana. The decision would be made to either go through with the original plan of bringing Azrok’s head to T’rissa Auvryndar, placing Stormkuldur and the River Sargauth under the control of the drow or abandoning your previous quest to seek out this Dagger of Blindsight that Lurkana told you had been stolen by duergar of Clan Ironeye whom she believed to be hiding out in Skullport. You all stuck to your guns and chose the former though acquiesced to her request to seek out Ulquess, the Mind Flayer ambassador to Skullport in hopes of gaining some valuable information. In fact your party split ways, feeling fairly safe for the time being, and explored Azrok’s hold to gather information on how you were going to pull off this assassination. Alter, under the guise of 2007 Megan Fox, and Badul accompanied some goblins to dine on rats-on-a-stick where you both learned of the location of the goblin barracks, the orphanage, the morgue, and the local trade shop.
From there, your party split into two groups, the group consisting of Caul, Peter, and Victor set out to meet with the ambassador while the remaining Alter, Badul, and Jorxkin headed to the trade shop. The ambassador appeared to be a dragonchess connoisseur and after making your acquaintance wagered the secrets he believed your party to be seeking about Undermountain against your choice to set foot in Skullport. The mind flayer seemed very adamant about keeping your party out of the underdark harbour but drawn to the challenge by the promise of answers, Peter took a seat at the table. As the game drew on Peter found himself with the upper hand though Ulyquess challenged him and the others to find checkmate in two moves, and promised that if they could do so he had information to share with Peter about the one he seeks. After a long time of pondering the endgame, the group came to the conclusion that it was a queen sacrifice into a checkmate with the king and the knight and with that Ulquess laid down his king and divulged the information you sought. He shared with you the location of the entry point to the next level of Undermountain, the Twisted Caverns which lay guarded by the Hobgoblin Phalanx you passed upon your entry to Azrok’s hold. To Peter specifically, Ulquess shared that he has witnessed another humanoid on this level who etches Peter’s symbol into the walls of the cavern, and this person is currently hidden away in the black pebble cave that abuts the River Sargauth.
He also shared information about Arcturiadoom. He shared that, “One of Halaster’s apprentices was a human transmuter named Arcturia, who created all manner of new monsters and often made herself the subject of her own horrid magical transformations. She claimed an entire level of Undermountain as her lair and polymorphed prisoners and monsters to guard it.” He claimed, “It’s likely that Arcturia resides in Undermountain still, in one form or another.” This information held up with what was gleaned from the other group who, lead by Badul in their journey to the trade shop, were sidetracked by scurrying rats that were being fed moss out of the palm of a hand of an old woman named Preeta Kreepta whose eyes had been replaced by beholder eyestalks which she claimed was a curse by her former master, Arcturia who resides on the fourteenth level of Undermountain. Preeta pleded with you to help free a prisoner there named Alussiar as she claimed that his very blood was magic which she draws upon for her foul transmutations. The last warning Preeta left your group with was that of the existence of a weapon capable of cleansing her lair of intruders and “vagrants”; a “weapon of mass disintegration.” She claimed the weapon required six mithral keys to be inserted into a machine to activate. Equally curious, the elderly woman appeared to recognize Jorxkin, referring to him as the Illusionist having seen him come this way before in search of Dweomercore. Jorxkin had seemingly no recollection of their prior meeting.
Moving on from the woman’s hovel, the trio stumbled upon a sad goblin child named Huggybug who it seems had lost her doll in the trade shop but was too afraid of the “Gob Gobbler” to return to retrieve it. She trailed your group at a distance as Victor promised that he would keep an eye out for the doll. Upon entry to the small shop, you met a friendly Hobgoblin who introduced himself as Kinrob and your group managed to procure some adventuring gear from him and find the Princess Doll amidst the junk purchasing it as well. As you were leaving however, a bugbear entered to deliver a goblin child in a basket before skulking away. Leaving before you had to worry anymore about what that was you returned the doll to the goblin child in exchange for a jade statue and headed back to regroup with the rest of your party. However, along the way Victor stumbled upon an unlocked door which within Badul was delighted to see a group of goblins feasting on rats. Throwing caution to the wind, having tasted the delicacy of rat-on-a-stick prior, Badul ran right into the Brain-Dog Kennel where his mind was immediately accosted by two intellect devourers the first stunning him by devouring his intellect, and the second forcing its way through a crack in his skull to take control of his body. Joined now by the rest of the party, the League of Legends managed to take out the goblins and the other intellect devourer and finally restrain Badul after suffering some damage from his Armour of Agathas. Alerted by the commotion however, Ulquess threw open his door from across the street and demanded to know what was going on as it appears these were his thralls and Brain-Dogs you just stumbled upon and massacred.
CHECKMATE | SESSION 21
When last we left the League of Legends, chaos was erupting in the halls of Azrok’s Hold. The Mind Flayer Ulquess, enraged by the party's massacre of his thralls and Brain-Dogs, revealed his hand in a far more sinister plot. In the tense moments following Badul’s possession by the intellect devourer, Ulquess’, lips curled into a smug smile, as he exclaimed, "Go on then. Tell the fool. Tell Azrok what you've learned. What can be a peaceful transition will instead be red. So very, very red. I'll start with the children. Turn them into a murderous horde. Let them soak up the arrows as I glide into that hall and rip the hobgoblin's brain from his skull. See that I won't”. As tensions rose outside the abode of Ulquess, Alter—still under the disarming guise of 2007 Megan Fox—rushed to Azrok’s throne room with urgency and glamour. Her plea for help against the Mind Flayer incursion left all in the room spellbound, all except Azrok himself, whose blindness shielded him from Alter’s persuasive beauty. Still, her warning spurred the hobgoblin guard into action, and a response team charged toward the scene.
What followed was a psychic massacre. The Mind Flayer struck first, unleashing a devastating Mind Blast that stunned every member of the League—except Caul. With his companions paralyzed around him and realizing that the Mind Flayer seems to want Azrok out of the picture just like they do, Caul seized the moment and made a devil’s bargain. In a private conversation, he revealed the party’s true intent to Ulquess: to assassinate Azrok and bring his head to House Auvryndar. In the seconds of paralysis of the world around them, the two came to a chilling agreement—Caul and his allies would aid the Mind Flayer’s ascension, allowing him to enthrall the remaining hobgoblins using intellect devourers, in exchange for his aid in their assassination of Azrok and that Badul be freed and given autonomy over his own mind. Ulquess agreed, sealing the pact with a wet, tentacled handshake. Peter and Caul then made quick work of the surviving hobgoblin guards, clearing the way for the Mind Flayer’s escape and ensuring the League’s survival. Meanwhile, Badul—now the proud, if slightly uneasy, host of a “friendly” intellect devourer named Greeble—began to form an unlikely bond with the creature nestled inside his skull.
As the Mind Flayer fled to avoid further detection, the party returned to their quarters to recover. During the long rest, Caul and Peter shared a rare moment of vulnerability as Caul explained his rage, comparing it to a second self—like a monstrous twin that takes over in battle. He confessed to losing memory of his actions while enraged, casting a shadow over his brutal efficiency and Peter listened and vowed to come up with a name befitting of Caul’s more brutal side and the battleaxe he brandishes. In the morning, with Azrok still unaccounted for and the hold slipping into Ulquess' psychic grip, the party resumed their search. Patrols they encountered had already been turned—docile thralls staring blankly as the League passed. Their exploration led them to the heart of Azrok’s hold, Azrok and Lurkana’s quarters—just in time to hear a scream from within. Inside, chaos reigned. Marta, the sun elf freed by Peter, now revealed as an agent of Lolth—or perhaps simply a wildcard in her own right—had launched her own assassination attempt against Azrok. But she was not quick enough. The League stormed the room. Lurkana cried out in horror as Caul’s blade fell first, severing first Lurkana’s head and then felling the already severely injured Azrok’s. Alter, ever swift, finished off Marta and looted her poisoned scims and vials of Wyvern poison, having already felt the bitter sting of her blades in combat knew she could put them to good use. Before the blood spilled in the bedchamber had dried, the League of Legends looked out to the rest of the Legion of Azrok—leaderless and directionless—who were being held at bay outside by an ever-growing army of Ulquess’s thralls.
EXODUS FROM AZROK'S HOLD | SESSION 22
Where last we left off The League of Legends having successfully stowed the heads of Azrok and Lurkana in the bag of holding stood in a bedroom painted in blood. Outside the Legion rallied to the aid of their leader cutting through the thralls, Ulquess’ puppets who were holding the line. A wall of glazed eyes and slack jaws, they absorbed the initial impact of the Legion’s fury, buying precious seconds with their lives lest your party be overrun by the army that was barreling towards you. The thralls didn’t cry out. They didn’t falter. They were tools now. Taking the only opportunity you had you ran through the breach they made drawing your weapons to fight your way out.
The tip of the spear, your Doctor, Victor unleashed the divine energy from within himself, causing a searing light to radiate from him, pouring out of his eyes and mouth, like the force of the sun bursting through a fragile shell threatening to consume him but also everything in his path leading your party out of Azrok’s hold as the war waged around you. Everything in front of him burned, divine fire vaporizing weapons, armor, and flesh. Behind that radiant beacon, a much less holy crusader held your flank. Where Victor burned, Caul butchered. He tore through goblins and hobgoblins like they were straw men, his blade a blur, his rage feral and all-consuming. He didn’t fight like a soldier anymore—he fought like a monster unleashed upon Stormkuldur. Bones shattered. Arteries sprayed. Whole patrols fell in moments, their screams trailing behind the League like a twisted anthem.
In the midst of this chaos, Alter, riding astride Creed amid the slaughter, caught sight of Peter holding his own against a trio of Hobgoblin Captains attempting to regroup. With a flash of silver and a twist of the wrist, she flung a scimitar to the boy. Peter caught it without dropping Badul from his shoulders and the pair surged into the fray—Peter fencing with blinding precision, steel clashing against steel, while Badul hacked and slashed apart Peter’s foes while Greeble chirped suggestions from within Badul’s skull, delighting in the carnage. As Victor’s light flickered out, he was replaced by a massive rolling ball of fire as Jorxkin stepped out of a latrine to fend off three bugbears making to finish off Victor and himself. Peter hoisted Victor back to his feet with a surge of the arcane knitting together his wounds as the League of Legends strode onward. But victory was not yet won. The Legion pressed in, bolstered by reinforcements from the South barracks. The corridor funneled into a narrow choke point, and the League, surrounded on all sides, began to falter. Then throwing himself between your battered party and the horde Ulquess emerged from the shadows like an eldritch horror himself raising a hand to the charging Legion and with a single gesture, Ulquess unleashed a blast of energy from his mind.
A pulse of psychic annihilation rippled outward—hitting every enemy remaining on the battlefield. Hobgoblins dropped their weapons and clutched their heads, blood pouring from their eyes. Goblins collapsed mid-scream, paralyzed or dead, and those unlucky few who remained on their feet were cut to ribbons by Caul and Alter as your party finally made it out of what will now come to be Ulquess’ Hold. It was here where the Mind Flayer said he would leave you. Your arrangement having come to a successful close. He did leave you with a warning though that where you stand still is no-mans land, and to safely make it back to House Auvryndar territory you would need to slip by the Hobgoblin Phalanx. Heeding his warning and licking your wounds you continued stealthily following Creed as he tracked his friend Balagos’ scent. Creed stopped however, outside a cavern of corpses as Alter heard the cry, “Help me . . . please. I’m not dead.” Holding the ring (and finger) she believed to be of Kressando Rosznar, she couldn’t help but hope that by some miracle Esvelle’s brother somehow still lived. It was only a foolish dream though because as she took a step towards the pile of corpses she found the source of the plea. A strange-looking creature with a bloated, oval-shaped body that stood on three shuffling elephantine legs with a disgusting, rock-like hide caked in blood and gore (not unlike Caul now). As the creature rises from the pile of corpses and Alter mutters, "Fuck" under her breath, everyone go ahead and roll initiative.
CAVES OF THE RIVER COVEN | SESSION 23
Where we last left off... the League of Legends brutally dismembered the Otyugh, dispatching the foul beast with practised ease. Slipping through the Legion’s tunnels, Alter and Peter, armed with the poisoned scims, assassinated two goblins that were alerted to your presence and for your trouble you collected two halves of a broken purple worm statue. Trouble soon followed in the form of another Zombie Beholder. While the rest of the party took off in the other direction, Caul fearlessly stood his ground against the aberration of death, immune to it’s fear ray. Slipping away down the tunnel afterwards thanks to a darkness spell cast by Alter, Caul and the party regrouped in the next clearing where you successfully bluffed your way past the Hobgoblin Phalanx flashing your registration papers and claiming to have been sent out as a raiding party by Azrok. Meanwhile, Creed’s tracking led to a grim discovery: the trail of Balagos ended at the River Sargauth, where murdered drow lay strewn along the bank. Luckily Balagos was waiting for you, unscathed, when you arrived and jumped happily into Peter’s arms. Taking a pause to rest at the outpost, Caul took a dip in the dark waters and had a strange conversation with an unseen presence, leaving the others worried about the effect that Undermountain was having on him.
Using the Zurkhwood rafts, the League journeyed back upstream, returning to present the severed heads of Azrok and Lurkana to T’rissa Auvryndar. Genuinely impressed that your small force managed to accomplish what her army could not, she granted your party her blessing on safe passage to Skullport, and allowed you to keep the treasure you looted from her Chimera’s hoard, and she gave Alter a very personal invitation to her abode that evening—announced just as her previous consort’s chest cavity exploded into a horrific birth of spiders. Peter, meanwhile, raised his hand throughout the entire audience, desperate to ask about his missing sister—but was completely ignored.
After crossing the river, the League entered the disturbing lair of a Sea Hag Coven, where reality twisted into a nightmare. Dead fish littered the floor, echoing bits of the hags’ speech, as if spying on the group. Walls whispered. Shadows twitched. Fishing into a cauldron, Peter uncovered a set of strange keys, but triggered an Elder Rune in the process—summoning Kreature, a goblin bound to Peter’s service. Though loyal, Kreature was immediately abrasive and cruel to everyone else in the party. In the depths of the coven’s lair, the League rescued Delvin, a frightened young human apprentice wizard who seemed to know of Peter’s long lost sister, and Lurk, a goblin chained beside him who had been threatening to eat the boy. Both were freed—though Peter is keeping a close eye on Lurk.
While looting the crow’s nest of the hags' hideout, the group triggered a Banshee Wail alarm, the deafening shriek echoing down the cavern corridors. With the alarm blaring and danger looming your party rushed back towards the river running into a hoard of Grimlocks you had skirted past earlier. As Peter steps defensively in front of Delvin, the voice of Caldra Cuttlefingers sputters from the mouths of the rotting fish harmonizing with the voices of her sisters’ whose heads bob just above the water of two pools in the chamber. In raspy, unified voices, echoing through the sea cave, the hags begin chanting:
“Double double, toil and trouble,
Skullport burn and Sargauth bubble.
Moonless tides and starless skies,
The Thirteen stir as dark winds rise.
Wreathed in fire, bone, and spite,
Their hollow eyes shall scorch the night.
Fools who walk with blades held high,
Shall wake the flames that never die.
Ash to ash and skull to flame,
They bring the doom that none can tame.
Blood once proud shall end in shame,
The Netherese fall without a name.
Woe to the hand that breaks the chain,
For Skull Island shall scream in flame.
So heed our words, ye meddling kin,
Leave the Thirteen deep within.
Tread below to unite with blood and life,
To idle here is to put that to the knife.
OMEN OF ASH AND BONE | SESSION 24
Where last we left off... deep beneath the surface, on the Sargauth level of Undermountain, the League of Legends clashed with a coven of Sea Hags lurking in a geyser-choked cavern. The battle erupted as Alter loosed a precise arrow into outstretched hand of Gurgle Brine just as she pointed a long, bony finger towards Peter. Victor moved swiftly, channelling his ki into a pommel strike applied directly to the arrow Alter just fired driving it to impale itself deeper into the hag’s chest winding her mid-cackle—only for Badul to deal the final blow in a single, clean slash, her form sinking into the bubbling waters.
Amid the chaos, the other two hags released their lightning bolts which converged on Peter, whose armour crackled like a live wire with the electricity despite the boy inside falling unconscious as the grimlocks closed in. Caul, Jorxkin, and the rest of your allies held the line against the crushing claws of giant crabs that emerged from pools behind you. Thinking fast, Badul conjured a terrifying illusion of a towering goblin king, scattering the grimlocks long enough for Victor to heal Peter.
With their ranks shattered and injuries mounting, the hags slipped into the black waters, their chanting silenced along with the dead fish around them that were previously picking up their voices. The League stood victorious, slaying the remaining grimlocks before racing toward the River Sargauth—haunted by the coven’s cryptic prophecy.
After returning to House Auvryndar for a much-needed rest, Alter reunited with the drow high priestess, T’rissa Auvryndar in her abode in Drow Town, sealing their passion with a promise: if Alter proves herself to Lolth through a pair of deadly trials, she’ll be rewarded with the Circlet of the Favoured Consort, an obsidian circlet bearing a large, black amethyst in the front which offers a little added protection from all but the enchantments cast by female drow.
Refreshed and resolved, the party set out toward Skullport. The long journey downriver proving dangerous at the best of times. Alter’s keen eyesight and navigation of the underdark helped Peter and Caul navigated the waters skillfully to avoid most threats. Though as the hours of travel took its toll on your rafts, Victor’s ambitious ropework failed to stabilize your vessel which was which was threatening to shatter under the strain of the Sargauth’s rapids. Badul’s aquatic curiosity only hindered progress, and Jorxkin was lost in arcane study leading to the Zurkwood rafts splintering apart in spectacular fashion—more flotsam than ship—yet, against the odds, the League finally reached the shadowed harbor of Skullport, bruised but unbroken.
Skullport awaits.
SKULLPORT: SHADOW OF WATERDEEP | SESSION 25
Where last we left off... The sluggish waters of the river Sargauth carried your vessel through the oppressive silence of the Underdark. Around you, the cavern walls pressed in close—slick with moisture—and ahead, a pale green glow had just begun to bleed through the darkness. Plying what little remained of your zurkhwood rafts through the mouth of the Sargauth, the river opened into a vast subterranean lake, the Skullpool. At the center of which looms Skull Island, a land mass crowned by a jagged stone fortress, atop its battlements stand manned ballistae and cannons, with a single towering column of limestone sprouting from its keep which vanishes into the cavern ceiling above—the Tower of Seven Woes.
Spanning the Skullpool is a crumbling stone bridge beyond which lies haphazard buildings of rotting shipwrecks choked with rope bridges, and teetering catwalks. Buildings leaning at impossible angles, stacked atop one another with reckless abandon. Some structures are literal ships run aground where above and around it, the city has grown like fungus on decay. Somewhere above, a faint moon-like glow of phosphorescent lichen streaks the rock—but it does little to alleviate the suffocating darkness.
As the League of Legends docked two waterlogged zurkhwood rafts in the Eastern port of Skull Island—The Maw—you were greeted by an armed contingent with unsheathed steel. Rather than pay the dragon price for mooring, Caul and Peter elected to portage your rafts for the time being. Agents of Xanathar’s Thieves’ Guild extorted fees from you newcomers with veiled threats. It was during this confrontation however, you learned of the flameskulls—The Thirteen—the once true rulers of this wretched hive of scum and villainy though in their current state, they babble like beloved, senile elders. Despite appearances, you couldn’t help but notice the unease that muddied the men’s faces in its presence.
Upon setting foot in Skullport, you immediately began rocking the boat. A crusade helmed by Alter had you all chipping in, Peter perhaps reluctantly, lightening your pockets to buy the freedom for all the slaves rotting in the pens of the Old Market. After giving your liberated prisoners the job of lugging the lumber from your zurkhwood rafts to the establishment of Maizna, The Hull Harvester, you made some coin for your trouble before setting the newly free men and women up with room and board at the Flagon and the Dragon where they were promised to be cared for by Cal’al Claddani. As luck would have it, upon meeting Cal’al’s acquaintance and completing your delivery of moonstones to her on behalf of Mattrim ‘Threestrings’ Mereg, your party also helped unite her with another Harper spy residing in Skullport. You learned Ulvira Snowveins, whom in her inebriated state invited you all to join in her bar crawl, is another Harper tasked with changing things for the better in Skullport although upon her arrival her informant had met his untimely demise leaving her stranded until your party introduced her to Cal’al and Felrax, the only other known Harpers in Skullport.
Your party first ensured the safe return of Delvin to his mother, and were rewarded for your humanity with a home cooked meal. As your party stepped out the door however, Delvin’s mother pulled Peter aside and made him promise to return to help Delvin with his magical studies after he locates Dweomercore, an arcane academy believed to lie deep within Undermountain.
Following up with Felrax, a copper dragonborn Harper agent residing in Dalagor’s Fortress, Ulvira’s aspirations and your party’s open opposition to the slave trade only worked to stoke his own desire for revolution. Felrax, it seems, had already been researching a ritual to restore the Thirteen’s sanity and allow them to return to power to rule Skullport in a tough but fair manner as it has been said they did in the past. The ritual would require your party luring a flameskull into the underwater Grotto of the Netherese then giving it a tincture made from Netherese blood mixed with aracnid venom after which you are to utter the words, “Rise, ye spirit, as guardian and counselor. Now and forever.” in the ancient Netherese language.
Upon speaking with Moria Nightshade, your party learned the last living descendent of the Netherese was being held captive in the spider carved from stone that towers over Skullport—Tanor’thal Refuge. Rather than risk the precarious vertical climb up the cavern walls, Jorxkin pulled a caterpillar cocoon from his component pouch and transformed Caul into a mighty Giant Eagle, and the party took to the skies—scaling up towards the balcony of Tanor’thal Refuge.
BLOODLINES AND BROODS | SESSION 26
Where last we left off... The League of Legends entered the long-abandoned stronghold of House Tanor’thal where the skittering sounds of giant spiders and their ettercap shepherds could be heard echoing through the cobweb-choked chambers. In a brutal skirmish that erupted in the abdomen of the Refuge, your party faced waves of arachnids that poured in from hidden chambers. Literally walking on eggshells, as the anterior chamber was filled with clutches of giant spider eggs, you were all surprised when a drider climbed onto the balcony behind you, dragging two silk bound bandits with it. Dropping its captives, it vanished into a magical cloud of darkness before launching itself in and out of the fight already underway only to be brought down by the party’s overwhelming numbers advantage.
While the rest of the party proceeded deeper into the Refuge, Peter was hesitant to free the drider’s captives in case it was their blood that was needed for the tincture. In a bizarre twist, Peter challenged the bandits to a game of strip Three Dragon Ante, wagering their freedom against vials of their blood. Though Peter fell behind early, having to remove a few articles of clothing, he managed to regain the upper hand until the bandits were eventually standing in nothing but their skivvies. Afraid for their lives after losing the bout, the bandits tried to bolt but didn’t get very far as Caul spear tackled one, and Peter hoisted the other back onto the balcony while he tried to rappel to the rooftops a hundred feet below. Their blood, now property of the League, was secured in vials provided by Victor.
In the head of the Refuge, the rest of the party was dealing with another swarm of giant spiders but the rogue duo of Alter and Ulvira cut them down with expert precision after Jorkxin sprung their waiting ambush. The final ettercap was dealt a swift kick by Caul and was sent plummeting off the balcony. This left a single twitching, cocooned victim in the head of the Refuge. This glowing figure was identified as Gonderth Nethran—the last living descendant of the Netherese bloodline—barely alive, and drained of strength. A quick looting of the now empty stronghold, lead by Alter, yielded a few silver emblems of the forgotten drow house, and two magical weapons. A drow dagger named Incision, and a moon-touched greataxe named Bonecounter.
Returning to Nightshade’s Caress, the party handed over the unconscious Gonderth and Moria began the long process of brewing the tincture—a vital component in your quest to bring about the return of the Thirteen flameskulls to Skullport. Finding yourselves with some time to kill, you found your way to the door of the Cracked Pipe, an establishment of some repute initially appearing to be run by Mia, a kindly old woman—until Victor and the rest of the party was caught off guard by her sudden transformation into the Vampire, Ezira Gloomdelve who sells a variety of addictive substances and associated paraphernalia to her patrons. Despite the revelation, Caul proceeded to purchase Jubilant (a speed-like stimulant), while Alter and others picked up doses of the more earthy Kulutah (an organic analog).
THE GROTTO OF THE NETHERESE | SESSION 27
Where last we left off... The League of Legends dispersed throughout Skullport, all eagerly awaiting the brewing tincture though finding leisure in having a few hours to pull at different threads of this strange and new Underdark city.
Victor elected to stake out the Cracked Pipe to see what could be gleaned about the vampire, Ezira Gloomdelve. Peter stuck by Victor’s side though bored after finding nothing of note around the windowless building’s exterior, he sat down and read some more of his book. Just as the pair were ready to give up and regroup with the others, they bumped into a gaunt, twitchy figure with veins bulging unnaturally into a grotesque growth on his head. The figure mumbled an apology before slipping into the drug den.
Meanwhile, Caul, Alter, and Jorxkin returned to The Flagon and the Dragon. Caul and Alter got acquainted with their new arms, and Jorxkin began the restorative process of Arcane Recovery. Waking up from his slumber upstairs, Badul convened with your allies Cal’al Caladini, Ulvira Snowveins, and Greeble to plot how your party was going to capture a Flameskull, laying the groundwork for a daring plan he dubbed Badul Impact.
Slipping out after a short rest, Alter and Peter infiltrated the abandoned Clockwork Wonders. Disaster struck when a piercer dropped from Piercer Peak onto Peter’s head. Vulnerable outside of his armour, the young man (twink) was lucky for Alter’s quick reflexes to save him from any significant injuries. Despite the ruckus drawing the attention of a band of male drow exiles, the duo managed to recover valuable partially-constructed prosthetic limbs, scrap metal, and artisan’s tools.
Victor and Peter, in turn, took a trip to Buttons, Boots, and Rags, where they purchased materials to modify Victor’s black-and-white visage with a mirror inlaid monocle designed to detect vampires.
With the entire party refreshed, you rented two rowboats from The Mizzen Mast though commissioned a dragonboat for your eventual departure from Skullport. You launched your boats from the Murkspan Bridge to seek out a Kuo-toa hermit that Felrax ensured would be able to lead your party to the Grotto of the Netherese. Your poking about Skull Island raised suspicions from a duergar but your quick retreat and his inability to whistle kept you out of the gallows this day.
On the Southern edge of Skull Island you spotted the Kuo-toa hermit however, everyone panicked when Jorxkin accidentally stabbed him while trying to offer up a goodberry on the tip of his blade. As the creature made to dive into the waters below, Victor stopped him with his healing hands, discovering—belatedly—that the Kuo-toa, Hlool, spoke Undercommon. Peace was brokered over an exchange of rations for a Cloak of the Manta Ray, and with Victor’s new found aquatic prowess, wind spores from Alter, and magical transmutations cast by Jorxkin, the party dived beneath the Skull Pool through an underwater tunnel following Hlool to the ancient Grotto of the Netherese. Badul however, consumed his wind spore blaming his waste of valuable resources on the intellect devourer in his skull being hungry, perhaps starving.
In the grotto, your party discovered three statues of long forgotten Netherese wizards, inscribed with the phrase required for the ritual: “Rise, ye spirit, as guardian and counselor. Now and forever.” While your party contemplated the next steps of your plan to bring upon the Return of the Thirteen, Caul noted the water seemed to be flowing upwards into the statues themselves which is when he heard it. The chanting of the Sea Hags’ prophecy, echoing through the waters—a sound no one else reported hearing. Whether an omen or a symptom of the madness of Undermountain, none could say for certain.
RETURN OF THE THIRTEEN | SESSION 28
Where last we left off... The League of Legends, possibly now convinced of Caul’s madness given how he now seems to be hearing voices, returned to Skullport to secure the tincture from Moria Nightshade who granted this boon with instruction, “To restore the Thirteen, you must remind the flameskulls of their purpose, of their creators— but the Netherese magi are all dead, their kin reduced to bone and dust. All but one. And his blood is now yours to use.” With Nightshade’s tincture secured, your party managed to locate the flameskulls that were floating about Skullport, each of them absent-mindedly engaging in whichever form of entertainment best suited them at any given time, whether that be singing ancient Netherese melodies in the streets, miming drinking and eating at a festhall or physically blocking travellers from entering Beggar’s Rest pass.
Beggar’s Rest caught your attention as you were informed by Ulvira Snowveins of its dark history. It is known that occasionally, travellers will come across an arm, foot, or even a face sticking out of the stone walls and floors. This macabre sight became reality during the Time of Troubles when the floors and walls of Beggar’s Rest inexplicably turned to mud, and the many beggars living there were caught in it. Sinking and suffocating under the ground, with only the odd appendage left sticking out as the stone hardened once more. The skulker myths tell that no one should ever dare draw blood in Beggar’s Rest, lest the dead be drawn forth to feed. Peter, curious to test the myth, pulled out a notebook and began drawing pictures of blood. While the dead didn’t animate, a spooky vision of blood flowing out from the page before him did a number on his sanity. Confidence unwaivering despite Ulvira’s warnings, the party came up with a plan and a series of contingencies should the initial plan fail, one of such contingencies being Badul Impact; but alas, Jorxkin succeeded in polymorphing the flameskull into a chicken after which Caul bundled it up in the Cloak of the Manta Ray granting it the ability to breathe underwater during the journey to the Grotto of the Netherese. Rushing through the streets of Skullport your party drew a modicum of attention including that of an older man who wore a eye-shaped pendant around his neck. Following your fearless kuo-toa guide however, the League of Legends breached the surface of the submerged cavern—a place of eerie beauty where the gemstone-studded ceiling shimmered like a false night sky.
At the heart of the grotto stood three ancient statues of Netherese magi, the air thrumming faintly with dormant magic. As Jorxkin cast tongues and began reciting the ritual to restore the flameskull’s sanity, the rest of the party stood guard, eyes flicking toward the dark water. The words of ancient Netherese echoed through the grotto—then came the answering song. Echoing off the shale walls, bubbling up from the deeps, “The Netherese drowned eons ago and so shall their legacy remain below the waves. Today, you join them.” You stood your ground as the waters erupted as two crones rose from the depths, straddling giant crabs with bloodied pincers. The coven’s forces leaped out from behind waterfalls on either side of the cavern—gray, grotesque creatures with lidded eyes wearing cudgels and chortling in pain or maddness. Then Gurgle Brine broke the water’s surface. Previously felled by the party, now raised from the dead in monsterous form as an enormous Annis Hag.
Chaos engulfed the grotto. Alter anchored herself, loosing arrow after arrow into the oncoming grimlocks while Jorxkin, beside her, unleashed volleys of magic missiles imbued with the long-forgotten Netherese power. Black blade Badul stood as a final line of defence over the transforming flameskull. Caul carved his way through the tide of grimlocks before charging into the melee to rescue Victor, who after attempting to rush the coven was being restrained in a crushing bear hug in the Annis Hag’s iron grip. Together with support from the entire party focusing fire, you brought the towering creature down before it collapsed Victor’s entire ribcage. The remaining sea hags retaliated with arcs of crackling lightning that skipped across the water, connecting with nearly the entire party yet Alter and Peter managed to absorb the blast channeling the elemental charge into their counterattacks. As the last hag tried to scurry up the shale cliffside, Victor and Caul pursued—only for another flash of lightning to strike Victor down. Undeterred, Caul resisted the hag’s magic, cleaved her head clean from her shoulders, and drove it onto a spike before reviving his fallen ally with a potion of healing.
As Victor blinks back to consciousness, a luck point in his back pocket, and Caul cradles him—his own pockets a little heavier with the weight of silver farmed from Bonecounter, silence falls upon the Grotto of the Netherese. The restored flameskull cackles and hovers through the cavern’s ceiling. The light of its emerald flames soon disappears and its cackling fades as it floats higher and higher. That is where we’ll pick up tonight’s session.
CAPTURED BY PIRATES! | SESSION 29
Where we last left of... Having defeated a coven of Sea Hags and restoring the sanity of one of the Thirteen flameskulls of Skullport, the party regrouped catching their breath for but a moment in the Grotto of the Netherese before Peter took off swimming back to the Skull Pool ignoring the rest of the party’s pleads for a short rest out of desperation to warn the Skulkers of the upcoming carnage. Rising from the depths, you heard the ascended flameskull, now death tyrant’s cackle, “Ancient days have come again! We shall never die!” Eager to support the Thirteen against the Xanathar’s oppressive reign over the subterranean city but having suffered grave wounds in the previous encounter, the League of Legends was divided. Peter took a boat with Alter, Badul, and Kreature and set sail around Skull Island while the guild was distracted by the death tyrant’s siege of fireballs. The boat was unable to avoid detection however, as Sundeath, the half-ogre champion of Xanathar swooped low over the boat riding astride Venom the wyvern. Expecting the boat to be strafed in a cone of fire Alter dived into the water but for the time being another threat proved more imminent as the pair soared into aerial combat with the death tyrant instead. In passing the keep of Skull Island, Alter hurled a grappling hook over the wall and scaled it silently, landing inside the battlement noticing the stations unmanned as Xanathar thugs scrambled to support the fighting on the Eastern wall. Shortly thereafter, the others were stopped by the same duergar that was alerted prior, and this time when Peter ignored the command to stop their boat the duergar became hostile but was slow to the draw as Badul fired two eldritch blasts which detonated harmlessly off his shield. Aware of the danger the rest of the party would soon find themselves in, the rest of the party followed close behind in the other boat, Caul straining himself in attempt to keep up to Peter.
Accepting the fight that was inevitable in Badul’s small mind, Peter brought the rowboat into the Western port as the augur chain was raised. The duergar hurled javelins in retaliation and enlarged themselves. The three on the boat took up arms to fight as their boat began to take on water from the hull augurs. Kreature drew a short-bow and fired an arrow at the duergar but it landed harmlessly in the water a few feet away. He turned to Peter but before he could say anything a javelin protruded out of his mouth and as his body fell Badul misfired an eldritch blast blowing the goblin’s skull to smithereens before vanishing in a puff of smoke. Badul and Peter hurled projectiles unsuccessfully at the glass bulb of alchemist’s fire that was being loaded into the flame cannon aimed at their sinking ship. Badul clambered onto the docks just in time to see a silhouette crest the battlements of the keep. The figure leaps through the air, cloak billowing out with the rush of wind from the descent and the glimmer of a blade drawn moments before impact. Alter absorbs the landing through the duergar’s collapsing form, riding the corpse to the ground before rolling free and disappearing into the shadows. Suddenly alchemist’s fire exploded inches from Peter who, though able to evade most of the blast, continued fearlessly though scarred towards the fighting onshore.
As soon as their boat drifted round the bend, Victor and Ulvira threw themselves into the fray. The heavily injured monk finding Alter pressed against the stone walls retrieved the Cloak of the Manta Ray before diving into the water. Caul grabbed Balagos and joined in the fun. The enlarged duergar, unable to hold their own against the League of Legends, called for reinforcements who flooded onto the docks armed with crossbows and steel. Jorxkin, unable to detonate the next fire glass bulb with a firebolt, watched helplessly as Peter collapsed under the searing pain of the explosion. With the wave of reinforcements rushing in and the ever-present threat of the flame cannon wrecking havoc on your party, Caul managed to swallow his bloodlust and reluctantly threw down his axe followed by Badul and Jorxkin surrendering themselves at the risk of Peter’s throat being slit before them. The last thing Caul managed to do before being manacled and dragged off to prison was to patch up Peter’s wounds with a healer’s kit.
Alter and Ulvira took to the boat making a mad dash back to the Grotto of the Netherese, surviving the stinging pain of ballista bolts and arrows. Diving into the water just as Sundeth shattered the skull of the death tyrant which rained down into the Skull Pool like a meteor shower. Victor, with a burst of swimming speed granted by the Cloak of the Manta Ray rushed through the battleground of Skullport to explain the situation to Felrax who cast sending to communicate with the only other member of the League of Legends who wasn’t actively being imprisoned in the Tower of Seven Woes. Felrax shared his understanding of the death tyrant’s ability to be reborn each day from the body of a random Skullport denizen and together the three of you devised a plan to make the most out of the unfortunate situation you found yourselves in. With his knowledge of the sewer system beneath Skullport, he helped Victor and Alter to reunite and break into the Tower of Seven Woes, crawling up through the tower’s waste disposal until they reached a steel grate in the floor of Dread where Caul, Jorxkin, and Peter were found manacled to a boulder.
While Victor pulled a vial of acid from his pack and began to work on corroding the steel grate, Caul having withstood the brutal torture of a full night in the tower already flew into a rage at the first glimmer of hope and pulled taught against his bindings much to the detriment of Peter and Jorxkin whom where chained to him but the tension point of the rock and his sheer strength granted him just the necessary leverage to break free from his manacles. At the same time Peter conjured a cloud of smoke out from the pit of lava in the northern wall of the room. Alter realizing the dire situation Caul was now in as the three guards in the room drew their weapons, lifted Raven’s Slumber, her necklace through the grate to release Creed into the fight. As Caul rushed the nearest guard through the wall of smoke weapons were tossed into his hands from below and with the shadow wolf following up on his hacks and slashes, drawn to the scent of blood, two of the guards were felled within seconds. Victor realizing the acid wouldn’t act fast enough for Caul’s timeline, held his breath and stretched the bag of holding over his head and body and found himself soon drifting through the endless expanse of the Astral plane until he was pulled back out of the bag of holding by his hair by a very confused and still restrained Jorxkin. As the remaining guard took off running up the stairs to the next level of the tower, he was quickly caught up to by Creed and Victor who beat him bloody and as a slew of magic missiles thudded into his back, Creed clamped his jaws down onto the perforated torso thrashing the body around like a ragdoll before the rest of your party saw the corpse tumble down the stairs landing in an unmoving heap at the bottom.
THE TOWER OF SEVEN WOES | SESSION 30
Where we last left off... You found yourselves on the interior of the Tower of Seven Woes, a vertical prison where each of the seven levels carved into the heart of the stalactite symbolize a particular form of suffering in devotion to Loviatar, the goddess of pain and suffering. Freed from their restraints, Peter and Jorxkin rejoined the League of Legends as you climbed from Dread into Suffering—only to find Badul restrained in a body bag and strapped to an operating table while a duergar mortician probed curiously at the intellect devourer sharing space inside his skull. The rescue evolved into a race against time when Badul misty-stepped out of his bonds, prompting the dwarves to seal the chamber and flood it with poisonous gas. Jorxkin’s mechanical canary sang the alert just as your lungs began to burn. Combat surged through the miasma: Caul, Creed, and Victor tore through bugbear guards in grisly fashion; Peter and Jorxkin testing their luck with firebolts (thankfully discovering the gas to not be combustable); and everyone rationed their breath to speak only necessary communication without inhaling toxins. The mortician failed to worm into Badul’s mind, and Victor dispatched him with a curt “Amateur,” even as the doctor’s needle drove deep into his forearm. Enlarged duergar swarmed Caul, whose raw fury kept him upright without the protection of his usual armor.
Alter, trusting Caul could hold his own against the duergar, sprinted for the valves that controlled the flow of the gas, learning however, they required a specific sequence to shut off the gas. A barrage of eldritch blasts and firebolts weakened the remaining duergar enough for Peter to deal a killing blow with his blade. One survivor, collapsing under poison and Victor’s restraint, revealed that the key was a dwarven limerick written on a piece of parchment in the mortician’s lapel—a coded pattern the party traced to the Konami Code.
The dwarf walks up to the bar for a drink.
He raises his glass to his fellow soliders.
Don’t let your hearts sink our battle was well fought.
Let us down our ale for our fallen friends.
There are still enough of us left to finish our task.
We will claim victory for the righteous and the worthy.
In the past we would have left this alone.
But now we must do what is right.
Badul and Jorxkin, not being elite gamers themselves, spun valves randomly (with Jorxkin accidentally finding the correct inputs) until Alter managed to complete the sequence and the doors blasted open, flushing the chamber.
Ascending from Suffering into Hopelessness, the group faced a rope bridge spanning an endless chasm of whispering magical darkness. After Peter disturbed the spirits and the party froze in terror as the cacophony of whispers crescendoed to an uproar from the darkness below, the party elected to proceed in silence, roped together under Caul’s steady lead. A moonlit scripture appeared cast onto the planks before you:
Kindnesses are the best companions to hurts, and increase the intensity of suffering. Let mercy of sudden abstinence from causing pain and of providing unlooked-for healing come over you seldom, but at whim [ . . . ] the Mystery of Loviatar's Mercy.
The party avoided the weeping maiden statue and followed along in absolute silence—until that is, Badul stubbed his toe and shrieked. Caul’s shouted rebuke serving only to drag the darkness toward the party in a surging wave. Sprinting for the far side, all but Peter and Badul triggered a Symbol of Hopelessness carved at the base of a staircase leading out of the room. Without the time to allow the party to slow their pace, Peter rallied everyone’s spirits with heartfelt words of found family, pulling them our of their despair and getting everyone to the top of the stairs just as the tidal wave of darkness slammed against an unseen barrier behind them.
Continuing your ascent from Hopelessness to Pain, the group freed a tortured elven merchant sailor named Dalanoth. Successfully avoiding stepping on pressure plates that tightened the torture rack the man was manacled to, Jorxkin used misty-step to maneuver into a safe positon from which he was able to apply vials of acid to corrode the chain. During this long process however, the tower’s influence began to twist the minds of the rest of the party briefly toward savouring his suffering. Dalanoth was released nonetheless though a little worse for wear. Able to cross the room safely now, Peter, dodging protective glyphs, retrieved a glowing green mace and bestowed it to Caul, fearful of what horrors it might enact in the hands of Badul. Terrified of his “rescuers,” the elf fled downward, only to be turned back by the living darkness and retrieved by Caul. Hunger being the next floor reunited Peter with Balagos though mutilated, missing his left forepaw. Caged next to Balagos, an insatiable blue wyvern pressed its large head against the bars licking its chops, unwaivering in spite of Alter’s admonishment. The party navigated the chamber cautiously, a ravenous eldritch horror whose cold tentacles rose from a pit in the centre of the room nearly claimed Badul, but only nearly. Alter, spotting a glyph just as Victor was about to trigger it, allowed him to do so. She could blame it on the steadily growing madness but it was out of spite for his percieved domineering personality as tensions have been growing. Regardless, Victor shrugged off its magical influence.
At last you reached Longing: a treasure hall split into glittering quadrants just out of reach as lava bubbled and flowed on either side of the thin bridge you found yourselves on. Dalanoth followed at a timid distance while Alter’s eyes glimmered with draconic greed. There, amid towering piles of gold and artifacts, the party finally spotted their missing equipment—the wealth of the tower calling to each of you in its own insidious way.
SUNDETH | SESSION 31
The League of Legends, having made the gruelling climb up the Tower of Seven Woes found a brief respite or perhaps temptation at the floor of Longing. Here the wealth of the tower spoke to a sense of avarice that lay buried within every adventurer’s soul yet was kept from you separated by a lava-choked chamber holding four troves of Sundeth’s private excess. With trust in Caul’s might launching each companion across the chasm, the party fanned out to plunder the tyrant’s hoard.
Peter’s eye was caught by a quadrant dominated by arms and armour including that which had been taken from him upon his capture. Reunited with his gauntlets and armour, Peter stuffed the finest trophies into the Bag of Holding before distributing them to the party. Victor approached the chests, using acid to weaken a lock while Alter inspected the others—identifying both a mimic and a trapped chest, though not in time to prevent a poisonous blast that splashed across them both. Meanwhile Badul, having nearly been pitched into the lava before misty stepping to safety, triggered an Umber Hulk claw that snapped on his greedy hands like a bear trap until Caul arrived—leaping the chasm to wrench his companion free. Badul elected not to make a cloak out of the taxidermy halfling but Caul claimed a talking gargoyle head which, after a brief protest, resigned itself to hanging at his waist like Mimir to Kratos.
Alter gathered a handful of valuable holy symbols, and together the party amassed over 5,000 gold pieces before Peter, armoured once again, vaulted back to the bridge—transporting Alter and Victor safely within the bag of holding. With the reclaimed gear returned, Badul accepted both Loviatar’s Scourge from Caul and a sinister green dagger from Alter; each of which crumbled to dust the moment he touched them, the shadowed Hexblade he carried instead drinking in their magic.
At last the party climbed to the pinnacle, where Sundeth, Half-Ogre Commander of Skullport, waited astride his wyvern Venom, taunting Peter and sizing up his “whelps.” His voice dripped with cruelty—promising punishment, threatening to shatter the Death Tyrant day after day until not remained in Skullport to resurrect it, and comparing Peter’s impending screams to Katherine’s own.
The battle erupted when Jorxkin opened with a fireball, flames washing over wyvern and rider. Sundeth’s blade—wreathed in the fire of the Elder Rune Angras—tore through Peter in three burning slashes. Caul hurled his new net, dragging Venom from the sky and leaping atop it to grapple the beast into submission. Victor rushed Sundeth, fists promising the sweet mercy of death, while Alter darted around the spire impaling arrows in the half-ogre from the shadows circling her prey with Creed unseen.
Then one of the Thirteen—having been reborn as a Death Tyrant fallen in battle the day prior only to be reborn again—reached out telepathically, offering aid. Sundeth, seeing his foe had risen from Skullport, immediately ordered his forces to open fire upon the city with ballistae and flame cannons. The party, despite being in dire straits themselves, commanded the Death Tyrant to ignore Sundeth and instead lay siege to Skull Island in defence of the city.
The fight turned grim. Victor fell to Sundeth’s blade. Caul sustained a lethal blow before collapsing beneath the seemingly endless assault from death himself. Alter dashed in, slipping Victor a goodberry which knitted his wounds closed allowing him to stagger back to his feet to place his hands of healing on Caul’s blood caked chest.
The giant of a man was now bearing down on Badul who frantically coalesced the moisture from the air into Armour of Agathys. Jorxkin, flanked by his bloodied party drew on the braziers around him, summoning their flames into his hands to unleash a barrage of scorching rays—repulsor-like blasts that seared straight through Sundeth’s chest. The giant toppled to the ground, dead.
Below, Skullport was a raging inferno. Peter, overwhelmed by failure and the creeping madness of Undermountain, drifted toward despair—until Caul’s hand settled on his shoulder. Then Victor’s. Then Alter’s. Then Jorxkin’s and Badul’s. A united party of survivors, battered but unbroken.
Together, the League of Legends descended the Tower of Seven Woes, alive, victorious, and bound more tightly than ever having stoked the fires of a rebellion sparked by none other than Peter’s lost sister Katherine who, it seems, has delved ever deeper into the Dungeon of the Mad Mage.
SKULLPORT BURNS | SESSION 32
Where last we left off... The League of Legends left behind the cruelty and malice that rooted itself in every nook and cranny of the Tower of Seven Woes. Stepping out into the courtyard however, you took what remained of Xanathar’s forces by surprise as they had fallen back to the inner keep of Skull Island to make a final stand but with your party already upon them and a small army of turncoat bugbears, animated gargoyles, and a Death Tyrant, they threw down their weapons without a second thought.
Caul offered to return the gargoyle to its brethren but it made the claim that its place was by Caul’s side for now as he and the rest of the party had secured Skull Island by overthrowing the Xanathar tyrant Sundeth.
Witnessing the death and destruction that wracked the castle, the party crossed the Murkspan bridge into the still burning Skullport. Despite your weakened state, the League threw themselves into the fire brigade. Victor worked with Nadia and Valerian to move from setting bones and mending would-be lethal wounds in the streets to operating the Patch Job like an understaffed field-hospital tending to Skulkers and Xanathar thugs alike.
Caul, still gravely wounded jumped into action when he saw the Black Tankard beginning to collapse. With two minotaurs flanking him he braced the falling ceiling, holding up the creaking Zurkhwood pillars long enough for Victor and the others to usher all the patrons to safety. Jorxkin and Peter got to work reinforcing the supports with mending and rays of frost but the building had sustained too much damage and came crashing down as everyone scrambled to avoid being buried alive in the wreckage. Caul made it safely to the water’s edge but Peter and Jorxkin weren’t so lucky, however with plenty of helping hands they were quickly hauled to safety.
With the fires quelled for now, and the worst of the situation taken care of, the party made their way to Dalagar’s Fortress where you checked in with Felrax. Thanks to the strangers who came so heavily to his aid, his plan it seems had gone off swimmingly despite a few hiccups but rest assured Felrax confirmed that with Sundeth and the Xanathar Thieve’s Guild out of the way the rest of the Thirteen could ascend to their rightful place of stewardship in Skullport. Felrax also confirmed that with the help of a teleportation circle from Tas, he had successfully transported the freed slaves—and Delvin and his mother—safely to Waterdeep. Peter breathed a sigh of relief, and for your trouble each member of the party gained two renown in the Harper faction marking you all as Watchers and well on your way to becoming Harpshadows if you’re so inclined.
Foolishly thinking this meant you were safe to sleep off your injuries in the Flagon and Dragon, Badul once again began hearing voices. His hexblade seemed to speak to him hauntingly, “There are no strings on me.” Having been given a dagger of betrayal which was looted from Sundeth’s treasure trove, Badul fell under the influence of this sentient weapon. His odd behaviour, and interpretation of the command to kill his friends, tipped off the party buying enough time for Caul to subdue him with the infamous Honda-Odyssey-Hogtie. Both Badul and Caul were then supervised during a night’s rest at the Patch Job. Victor continued assisting the other healers through the night while Alter slipped away to apprentice for Moria Nightshade.
Sometime in the night Ulvira staggered into the Patch Job, poisoned as Victor soon surmised by Midnight Tears. Victor selflessly gave her the Periapt of Health, suffering through fifteen hours of his own angelic affliction worsening but saving her life by the time midnight hour struck. Over the course of a tenday, the party took some downtime to regroup. Jorxkin blew a solid chunk of gold on spell components and took his time transcribing new spells into his spellbook, taking those of his liking from Lurkana and various other magic users your party had come across and defeated. Peter took some time identifying their trove of magic items and got to work fashioning arcane infusions for his allies and distributing as he saw fit. Some time was also spent information gathering as Peter asked around for more information about his sister, and Caul questioned around the city about strange dreams and a seafaring vessel called the Scavenger. None however, seemed familiar with the flag although many it seems, have found restless nights dreaming about a creature that makes its home in the sewer system that has been nicknamed the Skum Lord. No further news was heard of Katherine other than that she laid low after the prison break and was thought to be on her way toward Dweomercore.
Information was the name of the game though as the alchemical remedies and poisons arms race escalated between the Nightshade sisters, Valerian and Moria. During the groups extended stay in Skullport, two dying stangers appeared on the Patch Job’s steps one night along with a crate of eight unique chalices—four poisoned, two antidotes, and two water. Victor honoured the Hippocratic oath and took the gamble, saving one victim and inadvertently killing the other.
At the end of the tenday, the League regrouped at the Worm’s Gullet, the finest dining and casino establishment in Skullport which just so happened to be constructed from the hollowed-out shell of an ancient petrified purple worm. Taking your seats, a select few members of your party were invited into the Bruised Blade which through the backrooms led to a literal fighting pit. The manager, a goliath gladiator by the name of Armstrong being the current reigning champion as evidenced by the drinking token on his person which allows him to drink for free anywhere in Skullport.
As your party sizes up the competition and weighs the risk of betting on the fights themselves or any of the many casino games about the Worm’s Gullet, that’s where we’ll pick up tonight’s session.
ECHOES FROM THE DEPTHS | SESSION 33
Where last we left off... The League began the night deep in Skullport, gambling away coin in the Worm’s Gullet. Badul, Caul, and Victor tried their luck at a hand of Golem, only to be cleaned out by a balding duergar who happily scooped up their losses. Drinks followed, purchased by Victor—who offered Alter the very golden chalice she herself had poisoned and given to him as part of Nightshade’s twisted game. Over the table, Alter explained her need to return to Waterdeep via the teleportation circle in The Poisoned Quill to report Esvele Rosznar’s brother’s death. The party wished her luck… all but Caul and Peter, who waved her off distractedly, eyes glued to a brutal fight playing out on the scrying orb in the centre of their table.
That brutality soon became personal as Caul and Victor entered in the Bruised Blade fighting pit. Caul crumpled a bugbear with a single punch, while Victor dethroned Armstrong with necrotic damage from his Hands of Harm. A yuan-ti malison claimed one victory before meeting Caul in the second round, where she was seized by the tail mid-climb and windmilled into the stone with a bone-shattering crack—though not before her poison left Caul badly burned. The night culminated in a final showdown Victor versus Caul, both battered and bloodied. Though Caul struck first, Death’s Echo (the physical embodiment of Caul’s inner rage) answered faster. When Caul and Victor awoke, Armstrong named Caul the victor. Ashamed of his underhanded win, Caul ceded the title and the drinking token to the monk.
The party dispatched to the streets for one last night on the town before heading onwards and downwards on the morrow. Caul, Badul, and Jorxkin sought distraction at the Tawdry Nymph, while Victor and Peter resumed a stakeout (pun intended) near the Cracked Pipe, convinced a vampire lurked behind the pharmacy’s façade. Their suspicions proved correct when Peter helped a worker carry some sacks up from the cellar and was distraught to find what he was carrying was a humanoid corpse whereupon he came face to face with Ezira Gloomdelve. She claimed benevolence toward Skullport’s addicts, but when Peter called her a liar and fled, her predatory posture—and mocking wave—confirmed the truth.
During this time, Badul found himself paying twenty copper for a brief but pleasurable encounter with a doppelganger who took Badul’s own form while they were doing the deed. Caul drank Feywine with a sun elf named Islvai, sharing an evening of conversation and drinking her under the table before dozing off deep in his cups. Jorxkin and Badul, rendered mute by the presence of Forsythia the succubus, were promptly thrown out after doing nothing but ogle the scantily-clad woman.
Come morning, Felrax, the golden dragonborn Harper, named the party Watchers as a reward for your integral part in restoring the Thirteen. He gifted you four potions of healing, a hundred gold pieces, eighteen days worth of rations, and safe harbour in Skullport upon your eventual return. Boarding your keelboat, The Dragon’s Due, complete with a ballista mounted on the prow, you took the time to assign roles before setting off. Caul accepted the title of captain naming Alter first mate in absentia. With one of his many skills being carpentry, Peter took on the role of bosun while Victor assumed the role of surgeon. This left Badul to man the ballista as the quartermaster and Jorxkin to figure out how to avoid not setting the ship ablaze while cooking meals. Under the watchful gaze of the now Thirteen ascended Death Tyrants that govern Skullport, The Dragon’s Due set off. True to form, Caul immediately scraped the port side along the cavern wall while entering the narrow straight of the Sargauth River, though Peter’s quick repairs spared the vessel any lasting damage.
The River of the Depths carried you into deeper darkness, past dead fish and greasy waters that set your minds at unrest. At the first sight of tunnels leading inland Caul ordered to drop anchor, and the League disembarked into knee-deep slimy water. The party followed a spiralling passage into a towering fungal forest where you met and Ettin—Jibber and Jabber, as the two heads called themselves respectively—who led Caul to a horrific scene: dead drow littering the foret floor, bloated, burned, and dissolved by some unknown sickness.
One drow yet lived, coughing and sputtering she spoke of something that “Whispers from the depths.” With his periapt of health however, Victor managed to stabalize her and found out her name was Sarka and her and her allies had faced off against a terrible abberation in the Sargauth that afflicted them with a fatal disease that dried out the skin. She requested an escort back to her camp to the East, fearing that which lurks beneath the river. Jibber-Jabber could offer little more, urging the party to seek an alchemist to the North-East who might know of the disease.
Before you could decide your next course, voices echoed from a tunnel to the North. Hiding among the Zurkhwood forest, the League spotted Gunter and his band of duergar and wererat thieves of the Dark Harvest Market. When Gunter spotted and accused Caul of stealing “their” crops, Peter stepped forward, pistol drawn, forcing the thieves to back away away slowly. As tension hung thick in the fungal air, Caul hefted his greataxe and asked a single question, “We have to go after them right?”
AS ABOVE SO BELOW | SESSION 34
Where last we left off... The Dungeon of the Mad Mage reluctantly released Alter from his grasp as she materialized in the attic of The Lonely Urchin, an orphanage in the Dock Ward of Waterdeep. Shielding her eyes from the sun’s light that bore down on her, Alter walked the cobble streets past the gargantuan Walking Statues of Waterdeep and through the front door of the Yawning Portal. Familiar faces greeted her return; Old Stannoc raked in his winnings from betting against the party’s survival, Durnan etched the League’s progress into the bar beside the names listed there, Threestrings thanked her for clearing his debt, and Volo pestered her once more about the Throne of the Coronal.
The reunion turned bitter when Esvele Rosznar demanded news of her brother to which Alter produced Kressando’s signet ring and finger, earning a slap across the face... and later that night, an unexpected partnership. Realizing that with the confirmation of her brother’s death, and a piece of the body, she could bring him back with access to powerful enough magic. Esvele apologized for her behaviour before and revealed her vigilante persona of the Black Viper. She proposed that together, she and Alter could steal a scroll of Resurrection from the House of the Moon, a temple of Selûne in Waterdeep. Alter accepted the mission immediately and in the dead of night, the two rogues pulled off a flawless heist, the Black Viper taking her leave to bring upon the return of her brother.
Upon her return to the Yawning Portal for a night’s rest, somewhat ironically Alter was approached by a Ser Joroth Brighthelm of the Lords’ Alliance and accepted a request to recover the Eye of the Spider, an emerald signifying the political ties between Waterdeep and Mirabar that is believed to have been stolen by Falkir’s Fist, a band of four dwarf adventurers that disappeared in Undermountain over a year ago.
A few miles beneath the Yawning Portal, the rest of the League of Legends gave chase to Gunter and the thieves of the Dark Harvest Market. Steel flashed in the cramped tunnel and none other than Alter’s rapier was jammed through his face from the back of his skull before the sweeping edge slashed out from his cheek with a spray of blood. Jorxkin incinerated Gunter’s henchmen and Caul finished off the survivors in brutal fashion.
Reunited with the rest of the party, Alter and the rest of the League of Legends played escort to Sarka, her disease held at bay by Victor’s Periapt of Health as the party made their way East. The dungeon itself turned predator next. In a narrow passage, slug-like monstrosities clung to the ceiling, their rock-like shell camouflaging them among the natural stalactites. Alerted by his sentinel shield, and not to be bested while wearing his power armour, Peter quickly drew his pistol and blasted apart one of the piercers as it fell through the air, killing it before it could crush Caul. The party then advanced carefully, now aware of the danger and able to kill the rest before they could strike.
Worse awaited however as a forest of stalagmites lay ahead. As Peter bravely stepped forward to lead the way, he was snatched immediately as tendrils rose up from a roper hiding amidst the structures of rock. The rest of the party rushed into the chamber as Peter was dragged towards the monster’s toothy maw. Caul managed to bisect the tendril freeing Peter but turned around to see his other four party members grappled by a second roper that had revealed itself behind him. The first was finally reduced to rubble despite it’s rock-like natural armour but by the time the rest of the party was freed from the second’s grasp, Caul now found himself in its mouth, surviving being mangled only thanks to his adamantine armour. Badul finally sent Caul plummeting to the ground with a crash as he cast banishment on the roper before shouting for the party to run as he could only hold the spell for but a minute.
Beyond the forest of ropers, the League encountered a paranoid and confused human adventurer sitting on a toadstool speaking to her pet toad. In casting speak with animals, Alter realized the toad companion was not what it seemed and in bringing that to Caul’s attention, he approached the woman and pitched the toad into the air before clubbing it with his great-axe. As the toad crumped to the ground dead, its false form reverted into that of a quasit. Though the truth was laid bare before her, the party lacked the magic to heal Darribeth’s shattered mind and reluctantly left her behind—for now.
Following Sarka’s direction, the party entered a large cavern where bats flittered about. What you didn’t see however, was Sarka hanging back as your party approached the crevasse that split the cave. Just as your party stepped onto the zurkhwood log that bridged the gap, quaggoths boiled out of the darkness as drow archers nocked and drew their bows from the ledges behind you. An ambush! Everyone go ahead and roll initiative.
THE ONLY THING THEY FEAR IS YOU | SESSION 35
Where last we left off, the League of Legends walked straight into a drow ambush—and chaos erupted instantly. As blades were drawn, the voice of Halaster Blackcloak boomed, “Teleported”, and Alter vanished in a flash of magic, leaving the rest of the party to face the onslaught.
From a jagged pit below, a sloth of quaggoths boiled forth. Peter and Caul held opposite sides of the Zurkhwood bridge at first, cutting down the beasts, until one quaggoth leaped at Peter sending the two of them plummeting into the pit but not before Peter landed a parting strike.
Poisoned arrows caught Victor and Jorxkin by surprise for two archers revealed themselves for but a moment before conjuring shadows to slip into from their perch on a ledge half-way up the cavern wall. Victor, having readied himself for the next bolt caught it mid-air before he charged headlong towards the drow archers, adeptly scaling the cavern wall before following them into the globes of magical darkness. Already feeling the effects of the poison himself, Victor drove the second bolt up into the archer’s neck, finding a weak point in his defense.
Badul gathered the moisture from the air coalescing and solidifying it into Armour of Agythas enveloping his body which he interposed between the wounded Jorxkin and the ravenous quaggoths.
Having delivered the drow a taste of his own medicine, Victor applied a physician’s touch to his own wound and channeled his ki to draw the poison out of his body as he allowed the radiant consumption to overtake him but he found himself soon overwhelmed by the drow who wielded poisoned blades expertly.
Caul finished off the last of the quaggoths on his side of the crevasse just in time to see a flash of faerie fire flicker out from the pit below as Peter was overwhelmed as well. With a roar, he leapt into the pit, crushing a quaggoth beneath his landing. Enraged, Caul cut down two quaggoths that had already begun to rip and tear into Peter’s body as he bled out. Peter’s armour however, kept him alive just long enough for Jorxkin to cast life transference to pour some of his own life force into him allowing him to stagger to his feet just as more of the horde descended upon him.
Claws reached out to rake across Badul’s chest but the quaggoth instantly found itself crystallized in ice, its body shattering to pieces. The second slipped past him and sank its teeth into the gnome who fell out of consciousness.
Below them Caul and Peter, back to back in the pit, carved through quaggoths in a frenzy. Explosive gunfire lighting the darkness as bodies began to pile around them. Caul’s rage pushed him to fight through the pain as jaws clamped onto his forearm and claws spilled hot blood across his face. Protecting his flank, a wave of more beasts crashed against Peter’s shield. Finding the numbers eventually in their favour, and now covered from helm to boot in gore, Caul scrambled up the crag while Peter blew a nasty hole in the back of a fleeing quggoth with his pistol.
The archers continued their assault, stripping Badul of his icy armor and poisoning Caul. Though with his own body providing cover, Badul managed to stabalize Jorxkin. The half-orc rushed to the aid of a barking Balagos finding Victor bleeding. He poured a healing potion down his throat to which Victor returned the favour immediately by purging the poison from Caul. Fuelled by unrelenting fury, Caul scaled the cliff to close on the archers. With friends bloodied and dying around him, one of the drow held a poisoned blade to Caul’s throat demanding his surrender. Caul dropped his sword and shield and fell to his knees but Death’s Echo seized his axe and in one brutal hack decapitated the drow. The head landing next to where Victor wrestled the other into submission.
The last surviving drow called out to Sarka who threw in the towel and offered to take the party to Priestess Melith in exchange for her life. Peter was hesitant to trust Sarka again but Caul vouched for the drow, threatening death and dismemberment, and briefly speaking to how he first met Alter and how they were unlikely allies themselves on Stormwreck Isle.
At the drow outpost Priestess Melith shared knowledge of a presumed aboleth’s influence in the Twisted Caverns. Sarka, the only surviving member of an assault against the abberation, theorized the tribe of kuo-toa were feeding into the aboleth Illun’s power through their worship and that perhaps a change of faith could end the plague on these waters.
After claiming a much-needed rest. Badul awoke uneasily as a dark presence had approached him in his dreams promising powers beyond mortal comprehension but for now it would seem his own conviction held strong. Crossing the Sargauth to the kuo-toa village, the party was delighted to find the archpriest, Brother Noogaloop, had his own reservations about their worship of the aboleth seeing as his people were suffering needlessly at its hands. Together you struck a deal to help him convince his tribe to abandon the false god and instead worship the Mad Mage himself, Halaster Blackcloak.
Now, armed with dangerous knowledge and stranger allies, the League must escort Brother Noogaloop and Halaster’s effigy to the Grotto of Madness, where the ritual to unmake a god—and whatever consequences may follow—await.
SARGAUTH BUBBLES | SESSION 36
Where last we left off... the water of the Sargauth lapped against the shore where a tribe of kuo-toa recently underwent a change of faith. Peter was horrified to see, crawling out from the brine, a three-eyed horror with flesh pale as moonlight. Its fanged maw seeming to smile as a voice bloomed in your skulls, “Our love will be a beacon that rivals even the brightest stars.” To this, Jorxkin merely giggled, then chortled, and let out a thunderous guffaw. As he pointed out, this was a projection an illusion, and an elaborate one at that.
As the rest of the party plied the rafts upstream to retrieve The Dragon’s Due, drawing the attention of two Xorn who sunk into the earth alerted to their presence, Jorxkin stuck behind to calm the frantic fishfolk patiently explaining illusion magic to them and respectively declining their offer to dine on seafood.
Badul assumed the role of captain in Caul’s absence, the half-orc having been teleported away in the chaos but not before unbuckling his Belt of Fire Giant Strength, though immediately upon taking the helm two xorn burst forth form the cavern wall, ramming the vessel with crushing force. As the xorn clawed and battered the hull, Badul made the call to drop anchor swinging The Dragon’s Due into a bootleg turn just before a series of jagged rocks. Victor bore the brunt of the assault, pummeled into unconsciousness by stone fists. From the shoreline a volley of magic missiles beelined for the xorn. The party retaliated against the massive creatures as the ship lurched under their weight. Jorxkin unleashing a devastating lightning bolt leaving an opening for Badul to finish off the xorn with a with a surge of necrotic power that nearly claimed Victor as well.
Alter then appeared on the ship which elicited Badul and Jorxkin to race to loot the bodies, together claiming twenty amethysts. With Victor stabilized, Badul threaded the ship flawlessly through the rapids ahead.
The Dragon’s Due took on the effigy of Halaster Blackcloak alongside Noogaloop and two of his chosen—though the archpriest seemed to grow increasingly suspicious of Alter’s devotion to faith. Taking some time for preparations, Victor laid down to rest and channel his ki but found no such serenity as Illuun found its way into his nightmares. In the apparent absence of his periapt, the aboleth presented to Victor an offer to satiate the vampiric hunger and quell the celestial radiance within him, binding him to service in exchange. As Victor stood, restrained by his condition, forced to be bent to Illuun’s will he embraced such fires as they consumed him entirely, and in doing so burning away the aboleth’s tendrils. Victor awoke, he and his periapt restored, and ready to fight a false god. Himself newly attuned to the Belt of Fire Giant Strength.
Advancing cautiously, Alter glimpsed within the Grotto of Madness, but only a handful of chuuls lurking in the dark water that itself exuded an ominous stillness. Donning the Cloak of the Manta Ray, Alter surged through the water with immense speed, the party drifting behind her, toward the Island of Bulba-Slopp where she landed a devastating opening blow on an unsuspecting chuul.
The lake answered.
Illuun erupted beneath the rafts in a spiralling maelstrom of teeth and tentacles, Charybdis incarnate. That velvet voice slipped up Peter’s spine and into his very mind, “We will be one.” With that Peter was enthralled. Jorxkin answered with lightning arcing out from his fingertips, Victor dove into the water unleashing a flurry of blows—his amulet shielding him from the transformative mucous cloud—while Alter harried Illuun with arrows, darting away from closing chuuls. Illuun’s tentacles lashed out coiling around Victor, threatening to drown him beneath the waves.
Turning on the party, Peter hurled a firework at the other raft casting pyrotechnics to blind Badul who retaliated by casting Hunger of Hadar where he last saw Illuun—only to be abruptly torn from the battlefield by Halaster Blackcloak. Jorxkin followed with blight, rotting the creature’s slimy flesh as necrosis spread across its hide.
The chuuls piled onto Victor beneath the waves, but empowered by titanic strength, he tore free scrambling towards shore before a massive tail smashed his broken body against the rocky surf.
Alter swam circles around the chuul she drew away from the fight, disengaging to join Victor fighting shoulder to shoulder as the horrors closed in. After suffering a grievous wound from such as small creature, Illuun turned its wrath to Jorxkin, beating him within an inch of his life.
Blocked from reaching the island for their ritual, the kuo-toa drew spears and staves as Noogaloop waded into the fray, unleashing a mass cure wounds to all but Peter, who remained bound by darker forces. Still under the Lover in the Dark’s influence, Peter performed a dreadful act of devotion, casting warding bond on Illuun to share in the aboleth’s suffering and dulling the party’s blows. Balagos bit Peter, in an attempt to free him from his affliction but to no avail.
Chuuls seized both Victor and Alter, the monk finding himself paralyzed in their grasp. Weighing his options, Jorxkin opted to try too to free Peter but he couldn’t get past Peter’s armour so he misty stepped towards the safety of the island. Alter cast darkness, swallowing herself and Victor in shadow. The chuuls’ claws raked blindly, unable to find purchase.
Illuun lashed out at Balagos in fury, attached to his powerful ally but Peter commanded his defender to stand down and attempted to strike Jorxkin down himself, missing by a narrow margin.
Then Noogaloop raised his staff and cried out in fervent prayer. Radiant guardians spiraled around him, tearing through the chuuls in blazing arcs of divine light. The lake boiled with their death cries—until the remaining monsters swarmed the archpriest, dragging him down and paralyzing him amid his own fading brilliance.
Internally Peter cowed as he watched his mind and magics unleash devastation upon his allies himself an unwilling spectator. Jorxkin’s mind raced, himself on the brink of death, Alter and Victor hunkered down themselves shrouded in darkness stemming the bleeding of their own wounds. Waiting out the storm, and praying for a miracle.
THE LOVER IN THE DARK | SESSION 37
Elsewhere in Halaster’s demiplane, Caul and Badul were compelled to imbibe in jubilant when the Mad Mage pulled out a glass-blown dragon bong. Badul’s eyes glazed over, and he lurched forward before collapsing on the floor, greened out. Caul inhaled deeply and stepped through the mist-filled open doorway behind him finding himself launched skyward briefly before crashing onto the island of Bulba-Slopp like a fallen star.
Around him the lake churned violently. Jorxkin pulled a chrysalis from his component pouch crumbling it between his palms and muttering an incantation causing his body to swell in black and white into the form of a killer whale! Jorxkin tore through the water like a torpedo toward Peter, the wake forming behind him, a measure of his immense size and speed.
The aboleth probed the darkness, detecting a hiding Alter. The waters around Illuun then suddenly surged outward in a grasping tide, the undertow only managing to drag Victor and the chuuls off the rock.
Caul, hasted by the seven herbs and spices, entered a frenzy cleaving through a chuul to relieve some pressure from Alter and Victor. The monk, wrenched free from his paralyzed state, decided to play dead in the water—until a swipe from the aboleth’s tail slammed him into oblivion.
Jorxkin’s killer whale form withstood a barrage of tentacle strikes from the aboleth until the final blow shattered his concentration. As Jorxkin felt himself revert and begin slipping beneath the dark waters, he reached up a hand to Peter who retorted with two quick strikes with his blade, leaving the gnome bleeding out and sinking fast. Even still, his fingers twitched toward the surface, refusing to give in to the sweet embrace of death.
The kuo-toa pressed their attack jabbing at the eldritch horror with wooden spears while Caul felt the paralysis set in, overcome by the chuul’s unrelenting assault. Putting his body on the line however, was buying the others precious seconds and the League needed to make every moment count if they were going to live to fight another day. Alter poured Tarak’s Elixir of Health into Caul’s mouth, restoring his agency. Finding himself able to move his arms again, Caul immediately leaped into action cleaving through a second chuul.
Filling Peter’s head with lies, Illuun whispered, “They will all betray you in the end. But not I... Never, I.” Only to turn on him after seeing Caul tear through his thralls. Peter felt the psychic drain settle in as his own wounds began to heal the creature while his true allies fell bleeding out around him. It was at this moment of betrayal from The Lover in the Dark that Alter revealed herself to fire an arrow at Peter with Elven accuracy. Feeling the impact of the arrow, Peter’s gaze was drawn down from the blood on his blade to the patch he wears emblazoned with the red dragon’s talon and that was enough to break him free from the aboleth’s control. Immediately Peter dropped the warding bond he had been maintaining between him and Illuun, and with it the resistance he was gifting it against all harm.
Chuuls clawed at Caul, incapacitating him once again, yet he endured, protected by his adamantine armour. Alter, deftly cutting through the surf, spent a greater healing potion to help brother Noogaloop to his feet who returned the favor by channeling a mass cure wounds that washed over Victor and Jorxkin, and the rest of the League of Legends with a refreshing downpour.
Clawing his way to the surface, Jorxkin shouted, “Unlimited power!” searing the aboleth and its chuuls with an arc of lightning from his fingertips. Likewise Victor finally gulped a breath of air into his lungs but just as quickly it was knocked out of him as once again the tail slammed into his chest. The aboleth rose out of the water, looming over the paralyzed Caul, tentacles coiling around him but equipped with the Cloak of the Manta Ray, Alter was faster; leaping out of the water herself to strike from behind, plunging her dagger between the aboleth’s vertebrae and dragging it down with her weight opening a gaping wound that quickly spilled black blood like ink that fountained into the water of the grotto. Slumping into the depths with a crashing wave, the massive abberation finally was silenced.
The League of Legends, battered, bleeding, and clinging to life, had prevailed.
Alter rushed to the aid of our lord and savior Noogaloop, helping him to safety. Caul then leaped into the water pulling Victor to safety stabilizing him. Noogaloop, ever grateful for the escort provided to him by the League of Legends, alas had a ritual to perform if the Twisted Caverns were to be free from Illuun’s plague once and for all. The fishfolk debased themselves before the effigy of Halaster Blackcloak with gestures that would otherwise be mistaken for jests. Alter tried to participate in the ritual but the flair of the kuo-toa was lost on her and when the ritual was completed, Halaster’s voice boomed in praise for Noogaloop. A violent tempest encircled the kuo-toa, spiriting them into the air, hurling them through a rift and into an angelic grotto before the portal snapped shut, winking out of existence.
Indulging in the spoils of war, the party gathered up Illuun’s treasure hoard and with it a number of magical items no doubt having belonged to less fortunate adventurers. Victor acquired Bracers of Defense and Boots of Striding and Springing, Badul a Rod of the Pact Keeper, Alter a singular Boot of Elven Kind, Caul a curious amulet, and Jorxkin Dust of Disappearance. Victor also collected vials of the aboleth’s transformative mucus and while Alter dragged the grotto searching for the other boot she stumbled upon an additional trove of wealth raking it all into the bag of holding to distribute among the party.
As Peter sat looking at the aboleth carcass, head in his hands, Caul approached him and flicked a silver coin into the water uttering coldly, “That was almost you son.” To which Peter replied, “Maybe it should’ve been.” Remorseful but steeled with the League of Legends united again, the party returned to the drow outpost, on the way passing by the kuo-toa refuge to find—it would seem—all the tribe to have ascended with brother Noogaloop as per the ritual.
Sharing the success of your mission with Melith you garnered her respect. Having secured now not only the Sargauth but also the Twisted Caverns for House Auvryndar, Melith assured you that the houses matriarch, Vlonwelv Auvryndar would find use in such a capable adventuring party. Her stronghold residing just beyond Dweomercore opposed by the rival drow of House Freth and a former bodyguard and apprentice of Halaster’s feared by all dark elves, Muiral.
The party rested alongside the recovering drow, Victor after studying the aboleth’s transformative mucus worked with Melith to cure the disease from those who remained afflicted including Jorxkin but not until after he spent a night sleeping in a wash basin.
On the morrow Caul captained The Dragon’s Due through the Twisting Caverns past a homestead of hook horrors, beyond a beachhead of troglodytes, and right into the River of the Depths. The crew maintaining the vessel through swells of rapids and jagged rocks that threatened to breach the hull. The League of Legends eventually finding yourselves coasting past a valley green with life: trees dyed in the autumnal shades of yellow and orange. You heard birds singing on the wind and glimpsed bears fishing in the shallows all bathed in brilliant sunlight on the pebbled banks of the river. Further inland towering pines and great oaks with tangled canopies blot out such warmth and distant marble walkways braided with moss and vines can be seen converging on a mossy knoll. To where they go, you don’t yet know but clearly someone, or many someones, have brought a shred of civilization to these strange woods. As if to answer such questions, before you a multilingual warning is displayed on a wooden sign, “BEHOLD WYLLOW’S WOOD. HARM NOT, LEST YE BE HARM’D.” And that is where we’ll pick up tonight’s session.
I DIDN'T ASK HOW BIG THE ROOM WAS,
I SAID I CAST FIREBALL| SESSION 38
Where last we left off... The Dragon’s Due dropped anchor along the River of the Depths, and the League of Legends set foot upon the pebbled banks of Wyllowwood. Though sunlight filtered through towering trees, Peter proved the truth with a firebolt hurled skyward—the “sky” appeared to be some form of magical illusion. He shared this revelation with the party, likening their predicament to the old tale of Sir Truman, an adventurer who lived unknowingly inside a grand deception until he uncovered the truth and escaped the veil of ignorance. Peter, spurred by recent interference by Halaster, urged everyone to remember: this was a performance, and they should be ready to play their parts. The rest of the party gave him confused looks.
Not far into the woods, the party came upon the grave of Crissann. A will-o’-wisp flitting nearby—Crissann’s lingering spirit—warned you that the keeper of Wyllowwood was not what she seemed. To survive where so many adventurers had failed, you were told to take a wand of fireballs from the grave and slay the elf witch. Much to the dismay and protest from Victor, Peter and Balagos unearthed the grave, and the wand passed into Jorxkin’s hands.
Alter spoke with the beasts of the forest and learned more of Wyllow’s tragedy from Yakone the black bear: a lost love, turned against her by a raggedy old man, slain by Wyllow herself. She now is believed to remain here in penance. Proceeding with caution, the party finally glimpsed Wyllow in person—an elven maiden of impossible beauty bathing in a radiant spring, water itself bending to her will. She greeted you calmly, invited you to her tower for a formal audience, then wild shaped into a raven flying West.
Deeper in the forest, the truth of Wyllowwood revealed itself in grisly signs: glades littered with the rusted remnants of fallen adventurers, crude doll-like totems staring sightlessly from the trees, and alcoves filled with skeletal remains presumably left as a warning. Escorted by Halastree, a towering tree ent, the party was received in Wyllow’s home. She tasked you with exterminating a colony of werebats.
On the way, a massive green dragon swept low over the treeline frightening everyone (except for Victor who was sharpening his silvered weapons and not paying attention). Shortly after, Vool the Fool—an outcast werebat—approached having learned of the impending doom of his people, and offered coins, medallions, and a magical boot in exchange for their safety. He warned you that the trees have ears so seeking privacy, the party left the grove to speak near Tearulai’s roost. Alter donned the boots of elvenkind and the party agreed to act as diplomats. They entered the werebat caves under Vool’s escort, weapons dropped or concealed.
Before Mobar, the werebat chief, tensions rose quickly. Mobar despised Vool, adored Wyllow, and made it clear: the werebats were forbidden from Wyllowwood, yet never allowed to leave. Wyllow wanted their “stain” erased. The party attempted to propose a plan to convince Wyllow otherwise, but Badul and Vool’s bungled words only deepened fear and hostility. The werebats turned on them, mocking “Vool the Fool” and “Badul the Fool,” and spoke of killing them to sacrifice their bodies to Wyllow.
In the charged silence that followed, the party weighed the slaughter of the innocent against defiance of the archdruid. Caul caught Jorxkin’s eye across the room and silently mouthed, “Play your part”. Jorxkin answered by raising the wand of fireballs—and unleashed an 8th-level fireball inferno. In moments, the majority of the werebat colony was reduced to ash, and around you the caves erupted into screams and fast approaching beating wings.
LAMBS TO THE SLAUGHTER | SESSION 39
Where last we left off... The inferno Jorxkin unleashed did not end the bloodshed—it began it. As the echoes of the blast faded, the werebat caves erupted with shrieks and beating wings. Werebats, rushing onto the scene soon found themselves careening into the League of Legends, the first taking a firebolt to the face before slamming into Jorxkin and pinning him to the cave wall. Caul flew into a rage, seizing Vool and dragging him back into the scorched heart of the chamber. Surrounded by the charred remains of his kin, Vool snapped—cackling madly as he cried out, “The beast is coming!” Unable to damage the werebat without Bonecounter or a silvered blade Caul simply punched Vool in the face just for good measure.
The rest of the League jumped into action to face the new threats. Alter having been preparing to slit Mobar’s throat, turned to parry a scim as she was accosted by several werebats. With her free hand Alter reached for the pendant around her neck, activating Raven’s Slumber to summon Creed. The shadow wolf bounded through the fray, shielding Jorxkin with his body from a volley of arrows. Victor tossed his silvered blade to Caul so he could finish off Vool then the monk closed on the archers, unleashing his radiant form lighting up the darkness with his fury. A flurry of Victor’s fists struck true while opposite him, necrotic pulses from Badul’s hexblade drew even more threats out from nearby chambers as the goblin looked back to the fallen Vool to utter, “The weak don’t choose when they die.”
Then the beast rounded a corner, a chimera skidded to a halt in front of Jorxkin and Caul with a thunderous roar from its lion head as fire breath erupted from its dragon head. Overcome by his injuries, Jorxkin went down in flames, but the League rallied to his aid—Peter and Alter laying down cover fire while Victor and Badul cleared the last of the werebats. In a brutal, desperate feat of strength, Caul slew the chimera by driving the silvered blade into the skull of the dragon head grabbing onto the horns to redirect its fire breath into the faces of the chimera’s two other heads.
Jorxkin was saved—Alter’s goodberries to the rescue again—but the battle left deeper scars. Caul’s rage spiraled out of his control as Death’s Echo took control, driving him toward the werebat nursury. Only Alter’s intervention managed to stop Death’s Echo from massacring the innocent as Caul recovered the light and Wyllow’s words echoed in all your ears, “They must be put to the sword. All of them. Let none live to spread their foul disease.”
As the party deliberated, and Victor prepared vials of sleeping potion for a merciful death, the pups transformed into tiny bats and flitted about the room searching for the exit. Not letting the job go unfinished, Peter barred the way, cutting them down as he repeated Badul’s earlier words, “The weak don’t choose when they die.”
Shaken, furious, and exhausted, the party found some respite among the now many empty beds within the werebat caves. Peter’s mind filling the quiet with what he planned to say to Wyllow when given the chance.
Morning brought snow—and an uneasy calm. Alter, accustomed to the colder climates of Icewind Dale and Neverwinter pelted Caul in the back with a snowball but the half-orc being more familiar with the warmer climates South of Waterdeep struggled to maintain the structure of the snowball given the increased strength behind his cannon of an arm. The brief, awkward snowball fight did little though to dispel the weight of what had transpired the night before.
Trudging through snowdrifts now, Badul noticed a message formed by swirling leaves in the powder. It appeared to read, “Free me, please.” So he tore off for Tearulai’s roost, the party close behind. At the top of a marble stair, they caught up to him and Jorxkin leaned against the wall to catch his breath, accidentally opening a door onto a slumbering green dragon with an emerald longsword embedded in its skull. Jorxkin tried to shut the door but already the enormous, green, scaled eyelids had peeled back to alert the young green dragon to your presence.
Surprisingly, Tearulai as he introduced himself, wasn’t too upset to have been woken from his slumber. Guardian and historian of Wyllowwood, he sternly told you that you were not to leave Wyllowwood by this route nor were you permitted entry to his treasury without express permission from Wyllow. Tearulai did however, share that he is an admirer of great beauty, music, fine art and poetry, and would offer to answer questions about Wyllowwood if the party told him if they’d ever been to Myth Drannor. Peter, having heard of the ancient elven kingdom, told Tearulai he’d never travelled there himself. An answer Tearulai was content with, and in exchange answered Peter’s question about how Wyllow and the wood first came to be.
While the party spoke with the dragon, Badul’s beady eyes never left the emerald blade, and as soon as the dragon’s head lowered to the height of the doorframe the goblin recklessly leaped on top of the dragon’s head and gave the sword a mighty pull. To everyone’s surprise, including Badul’s, the blade was wrenched free and the truth revealed. Tearulai, the sentient longsword of sharpness fell silent in Badul’s grasp and Valdemar the young, green dragon snickered.
The creature’s posture changed. Its neck straightened. Its wings flexed. Muscles bunched beneath emerald scales as if a great weight had been lifted from its shoulders. Where once there had been calm restraint, now you see cunning malice and a long-suppressed hunger.
Noxious green vapor begins to bubble from his jaws as he thrashes. Badul clinging desperately as the air grows thick around him. Somewhere in Jorxkin’s pack, the mechanical canary begins to sing. Let’s go ahead and roll initiative.
WYLLOW'S WRATH | SESSION 40
Where last we left off... Badul stood face to face with Valdemar. The air growing thick with noxious fumes as the young green dragon's breathing grew heavy.
Alter, keenly aware the dragon would sense any obvious movement, feigned a dash across the bridge before melting instead into the shadows at the marble platform's base. With her Boots of Elvenkind silencing her footfalls, Alter nocked an arrow and held for a clear shot.
Badul, realizing any moment could be his last, reached out a hand towards the tyrant's toothy maw and cast blight. The dragon recoiled into his treasure room immediately as pain rocked his skull. The open wound from where Tearulai had been pulled flushed black with necrosis.
A flick of Valdemar's tail slammed the door shut but moments later viridian wings burst skyward blotting out the canopy before coming to a rest on the ruined battlements behind the party, throat swelling with poisonous gas.
However, as the proverb goes, the enemy of my enemy is my friend. Valdemar halted. Dense, green mist bubbling out of his jaws as he spoke. Newly freed from Tearulai's morality and hungry to usurp Wyllow as the warden of Wyllowwood, Valdemar offered you a deal. He claimed he would lend you his wrath to help slay the elf witch but that the element of surprise was crucial to your victory so to avoid Wyllow’s prying eyes and the whispering trees of her domain, he took to the skies, promising to watch and wait for the precise moment to strike.
Having agreed to the snake’s terms it now fell on you to make the first move. While Badul attuned to Tearulai, and the elven blade got to meet all the voices in his head, the rest of the party devised a bold plan. You would present Vool’s body as proof that you had done as she asked and eliminated the werebats, then after gaining her trust, you were going to use the stolen wand of fireballs to incinerate Halastree before turning your combined might on the archdruid herself. Jorxkin ready to counterspell whatever spells she would retaliate with.
Trudging through what had quickly escalated into a blizzard, the party made it to Wyllow’s tower. Before entering though, Alter stowed Creed in her necklace and scaled the tree-shaped stone structure, stealthily searching for another way in but found no such luck. She did however, manage to evade waking the thirteen giant bats she counted sleeping in the boughs.
Inside, a grim warning awaited the rest of you.
Crissan, Wyllow’s displacer beast companion, was snarling and holding a massive paw poised over Yakone—the black bear cub Alter had befriended upon first entering Wyllowwood. While the rest of the party pressed on upstairs searching for Wyllow, Alter cast Speak With Animals and heeded the warning. Yakone revealed Wyllow knew you had taken the Wand of Fireballs from Crissan’s grave and demanded its swift return lest you incur her wrath.
Alter summoned Creed to confront the displacer beast and Yakone was released and fled, but not before sharing one final detail with Alter: a glance upwards, telling her to watch the trees for Wyllow.
The rest of the League searched the upper floors and found beautiful works of art adorning the tower walls—one in particular, depicting elves travelling through space aboard sleek wooden vessels with giant crystalline wings, visiting strange worlds and battling orcs and dragons, stirred faint recognition in Caul’s memory. Jorxkin dispelled an arcane lock to claim Wyllow’s Staff for his own. Victor uncovered an ossuary whereupon, after having the door slammed on him by Badul, lead to discovering a hidden passage leading to an inner chamber containing a calendar stone capable of shifting the season and apparently the time of day or night. After dispatching the giant toad guards, Peter set the season to Summer putting a sudden stop to the blizzard outside, and left the hour at midnight as per Alter’s request. Upon leaving the tower, Peter obliterated Halastree in a roaring fireball that nearly singed Victor’s eyebrows off but he was spared thanks to his mask.
Then Alter spotted her—Wyllow, perched in the canopy, about fifty feet up.
The archdruid struck first, conjuring a blazing wall of fire to encircle the party but thanks to Peter, Balagos, and Caul’s heightened awareness, only half the party was caught in the inferno. The rest surged forward.
While Victor skirted the boundary of the forest fire to beat back four hungry grizzlies and heal up his allies, Peter found himself entangled with an awakened Elk but came out on top. Caul, the only one to make it to the base of Wyllow’s tree, decided that if they were going to openly defy Wyllow’s laws they might as well go for the three-peat, and he swung his great-axe into the trunk felling the towering oak in only two blows.
Wyllow was lucky to have caught a neighbouring branch though and answered with firestorm.
An inferno erupted across the battlefield, channelling the unnatural disaster to spare the surrounding plant life even as it blackened flesh and stone. The League of Legends stood battered and burned—but unbroken. Alter and Peter throwing up arcane barriers to absorb some of the blast while Victor’s disciplined footwork once again carried him through the fire and flames with astonishing grace.
Not feeling too hot himself, or rather a little too much so, Jorxkin polymorphed into a giant eagle, riding the thermals over the wall of fire then swooping down only to soar skyward again clutching Caul in his talons.
Wyllow—gifted with the boon of foresight—witnessed Caul’s deliverance and anticipated him leaping to spear-tackle her out of the tree and opted to live to fight another day, vanishing as Tree Stride carried her to safety through the forest’s living lattice.
Only Jorxkin, the giant eagle, caught a glimpse of her destination: a marshland dotted with stone statues, the one nearest to her an elk. Its hind leg missing, and the years having worn down much of its antlers.
The battle was over but the hunt for Wyllow had only just begun.
WYLLOW'S HUNT | SESSION 41
Where last we left off... Without but a moment to take in the ramifications of what just transpired, Alter vanished from Wyllowwood in a blink of an eye, ‘Teleported!’ away.
In the uneasy calm that followed, Caul offered gruff counsel to Peter, recognizing in the boy’s simmering need for vengeance the same fire that once drove him before he learned to harness that rage. Whatever came next with Wyllow, it would not be simple—and it would not be clean.
Caul’s words fell on deaf ears however, as Peter recognized another voice on the wind. It was that of his sister, Katherine. She was calling out to him, echoing Caul’s wisdom that this was not his fight. Concerningly, the voice seemed to be emanating from two directions; Wyllow’s tower and Tearulai’s roost. Though this much was already cause for alarm, Badul helped solidify the decision for Peter claiming the ruthlessness of killing the archdruid today would be mercy upon yourselves tomorrow lest she grow like a weed into an even greater threat.
Still circling high above in giant eagle form, Jorxkin searched for the elk statue he had glimpsed through Wyllow’s portal. Below, Valdemar arrived too late for the earlier fight, sweeping low over the riverbanks in search of the archdruid while the party pressed toward the forest beyond her stone tower.
The rest of the party was helpless but to watch as thirteen giant bats dropped from the branches of Wyllow’s tower and took to the air in pursuit of the giant eagle. By the time Jorxkin realized the swarm was upon him, fangs were already tearing out his tail feathers. He banked hard for the narrow gap between the tower and cavern wall, but the sky became a storm of wings and fangs.
Then Badul raised his black blade, channeling the alien cold of Tearulai. A sphere of writhing darkness split the air—a window into the space between stars—momentarily swallowing the swarm in whispers and lashing shadows. It slowed them, but not enough.
The bats broke through.
A sudden vortex of wind seized Badul and hurled him sixty feet skyward before dropping him hard onto a shattered stump. As the swarm closed in, Peter and Balagos formed a living bulwark, Caul’s javelins punching through leathery wings. Victor launched himself through the chaos, healing touch flowing mid-combat as he battered foes aside in a blur of impossible kicks. Badul staggered upright just in time to blast one attacker into the cavern wall with his repulsor shield.
Above, storm clouds gathered—Wyllow’s magic calling a healing rain to mend the wounds of her nocturnal hunters.
Bleeding but unbroken, Jorxkin splayed out his wingspan halting midair on a silver piece, as the giant bat screamed past him he extended his talons ripping his pursuer to ribbons as it overshoot him. Caul dragged another from the sky by its leg. Victor hurled one from the tower wall for Jorxkin to finish off. At last, the final bat fled.
The forest fell quiet.
Peter did not. Convinced Wyllow still lurked nearby, he waded into the swamp—and moments later released a very manly scream as a “crocodile” beneath the mud met his gaze. A basilisk. His limbs seized, muscles hardening like stone—but he shook it off at the brink. Badul and Caul rushing to his air ended the creature from range before its curse could add any more statues to the forest.
By the time the League found the elk statue, Wyllow, it would seem, was gone.
With resources thinning, you turned toward The Dragon’s Due—only for Valdemar to bar your path. He demanded you honour your bargain, threatening death should you abandon the hunt. Whether bluff or not, you chose to rest under his watchful shadow. Preparing for the war of attrition that lay ahead.
Peter, spurred by anger—and perhaps by the dragon’s own hatred—gathered wood and lit a brush fire in open defiance of Wyllow’s laws.
The forest answered with a fury of its own.
The earth convulsed. Crissann, the displacer beast stalked from the brush as Wyllow erupted from the ground in the form of an earth elemental, stone fists slamming against Caul’s adamantine armor before she sank below again. Peter’s firebolt ignited the clearing—and awakened trees and shrubs tore free of the soil to avenge their kin.
The unpredictability of Wyllow’s attacks made striking the earthgliding elemental difficult so the League focused on the displacer beast, whose shifting illusions made every blow uncertain as well. Victor burned through his stanima trading savage strikes. Caul hurled Badul clear of the elemental’s next emergence—only for Wyllow to answer with a searing sunbeam that carved through Caul and into Badul behind him.
Jorxkin cast invisibility and ran for the for the gap in the ruins. Caul planted himself near Peter, ready to intercept the archdruid’s next assault. Another lance of radiant fury tore through the party. The counterattacks landed—but you couldn’t break her concentration.
As the forest closed in, the situation was turning dire.
Victor disengaged, sprinting away—only to collide with the invisible gnome. Inspiration struck. Whispering quickly, Victor bolted again, drawing the wrath of beast and bramble while Jorxkin scattered the dust of disappearance at his feet.
In a soft burst of smoke, the League—save for Victor—vanished from sight.
The glade roared with confusion.
And though hidden from sight and blade alike, somewhere beneath the soil, Wyllow stilled—her tremor-sense searching the trembling earth for fleeing prey.
ESCAPE THE NAUTILOID | SESSION 42 | PART I
“Teleported.”
The Mad Mage’s voice shattered reality, and in an instant Alter was no longer in Wyllowwood but hurtling through Wildspace astride a young red dragon in pursuit of a fleeing mind flayer nautiloid. A gargantuan spelljammer vessel resembling an enormous nautilus shell fitted with an exterior deck and alien tentacles protruding from the forward section. Before her stood the dragon rider—a githyanki warrior with silver greatsword drawn.
“Who am I? Your only chance of survival. I am the one who sunders, I am the Undying Queen’s most unshakable warrior. I am Lae’zel of K’liir.”
Lae’zel spoke of Crèche K’liir under siege, of ghaik turning tail, of Vlaakith’s will binding Alter to her side. “I had no qualms with trading my own life for even the head of a single ghaik. I would relish in the opportunity for my departure from this mortal world to bring the head of a mind flayer to my queen but perhaps together we might yet survive.”
As they gained on the nautiloid, Halaster’s voice boomed once more—“Teleported!”—and a wormhole swallowed ship, dragon, and riders alike.
Back in Wyllowwood, the sky tore open above the River Dusk. The nautiloid emerged, its alien shell casting an enormous shadow over the moonlit glade. With it emerged Alter and Lae’zel astride the red dragon Infernexus—a flicker of hope against the threat of complete annihilation.
That hope was a candle that burned quickly.
Crissann, Wyllow’s displacer beast, caught up to Victor planting himself between the monk and the crumbling marble archway that marked his escape. Shrouded by Jorxkin’s illusion magic, Peter hurled fire—but the awakened trees were now an awakened wildfire pursuing Victor. Not sensing any fleeing footfalls, Wyllow the earth elemental rose from the earth and answered with sunbeam. Her radiant fire tore through Jorxkin, Badul, and Peter, dropping the two smallest where they stood.
Before she had the chance to slink back into the earth, the surrounding trees bent and cracked like under the threat of a sudden hurricane as Valdemar burst through the canopy, releasing a giant cloud of poisonous gas upon the archdruid—but she was sustained by foresight and her earth elemental form.
Overlooking the nautiloid’s prow, a robed mind flayer lifted a hand and commanded, “Sleep.” Already dying, Badul and Jorxkin succumbed fully. Balagos fell unconscious alongside them.
Caul, raging and blind to all but the sound of failing breath, found Badul and forced a potion down his throat before hauling him to safety—ducking under the wild swing of a branch from an awakened tree.
Arcane cannons swivelled around to roar skyward at the dragon riders. Lae’zel leaped into the air, astral-stepping onto the nautiloid’s deck before cutting down the arcanist with her Silver Sword of the Astral Plane.
Alter seized command of Infernexus, hauling Caul, Badul, and Peter aboard. Escape seemed a possibility—until Wyllow’s sunbeam sheared through dragon wings and scorched Alter.
Then the glade was suddenly bathed with green light emanating from the nautiloid as it began a wide turn. The tractor beam seized both dragons, their passengers, and the fallen alike, dragging all relentlessly towards the alien vessel.
Mind blasts screamed across the deck as Lae’zel resisted the ghaik’s psychic assault. Caul, thinking fast, doused the air with oil to reveal the invisible Jorxkin being dragged skyward. With impossible strength he leapt, caught the gnome midair, and staggered free of the beam’s pull, bracing himself against a tree.
Alter cast herself from dragonback equally working to lighten the load for the red dragon. Valdemar grappled Infernexus in desperation, nearly dooming them both before Peter and Badul hacked and slashed at the green dragon’s talons until he released his grip.
Victor ran headlong into a dead end of towering marble walls as Wyllow, half-sunk in earth to withstand the pull of the energy field, felt footfalls thunder across the ground and she turned her sunbeam upon Caul. The half-orc endured—but Jorxkin did not. In Caul’s arms, the gnome’s breath faded.
Then something impossible happened.
Jorxkin’s body shimmered, dissolved into silver light, and trailed faintly toward the vessel before vanishing.
With a feat of tremendous strength, both dragons managed to break free. Lae’zel, called back from the fight by her dragon, astral-stepped to Infernexus and, through her Silver Sword, cast plane shift—shunting dragon and riders into the Astral Sea. Alter activated her locket to recall Balagos wherever he might be, and seized Creed by his scruff just as they vanished.
Still breaking for the towering walls ahead of him, Victor gathered the last of his Ki to vault the barricade. Wyllow erupted beneath him though, her devastating sunbeam striking true. Radiant consumption threatened to erupt from within him; he clutched the periapt at his neck, tempted to remove it and unmake them all in holy annihilation.
The moment passed.
Remorse filled him—remorse for failing in finding a cure for his sister.
As Victor fell, his body too shimmered and dissolved into silver light.
An eerie silence fell over Caul as his rage drained away. He had failed Jorxkin again. Failed his family. But not all of them. Surely some had escaped. They had to have.
Yet the vessel above held answers—to the silver light, to his dreams of distant stars and the tattered flag balled up in his pack.
Silent and unseen, Caul climbed. He leapt onto the departing nautiloid, pried open the alien plating, and entombed himself within its walls as it slipped once more through the wormhole.
The League of Legends was sundered.
Across planes, Halaster Blackcloak’s voice wormed its way into your minds once again, “‘Never look a gift horse in the mouth,' they say. Sometimes though… You ought to. I carved this place. Grew every tree. Furnished these woods with river and rock, beast and bird. I made this place for my dearest Wyllow. But it was no gift. Only a prison. Do not pity her, though, my children, do not indeed—for, truly, if the druid wanted to leave, she would have found the will to defy mine. "But you? You have that will, that drive, that foolishness. That's why she'll spend her life frolicking in these gloomy woods and you'll rest amongst the graves of failed champions. The worst, I promise you, has yet to come."
ESCAPE THE NAUTILOID | SESSION 42 | PART II
A. STARDOCK
Suspended within the Astral Sea, there is no horizon, only gradients of pale luminance fading into pearl-gray infinity.
Lae’zel guides Infernexus towards a wisp of cloud and his wings beat on despite the absence of wind. You soon find yourselves consumed by the astral veil before sight returns to you and then you see them. Red dragons—scores of them—fly in disciplined ranks, their wings rising and falling in slow, synchronized beats that disturb the silver medium sending ripples through the Astral Sea like contrails carved into liquid mercury.
Three dragons break formation, diving towards you. Their scales a violent red against the pale nothingness, like fresh blood spilled across snow. As they near, you recognize the olive skin and ruby inlaid silver armour of their githyanki riders. They fall in line behind you and Lae’zel speaks to them in the language of her people.
You distance yourselves enough from the larger squadron and eventually find Infernexus diving towards what looks like a blue-green puddle, no larger than a house. Lae’zel relays to you in draconic to hold on tight and as you enter the bubble and suddenly the whipping wind returns and the velvet black sky pierced by glimmering stars envelops you once again.
Not far ahead, hangs a broken ring of asteroids. A familiar constellation, the Tears of Selûne: an asteroid belt trailing behind the moon which is now a massive beacon of light from your vantage point on dragon back. Infernexus docks at one of the larger asteroids. Stardock, as Lae’zel referred to it before, is leeched by two enormous vessels with sleek hulls of wood and metal, sails furled like resting wings. Spelljammers.
Githyanki walk both the top and bottom sides of the docks, the gravitational field of the asteroid equal above as below its equator.
Lae’zel did not dismount gently. She shoved Alter from Infernexus onto the stone and demanded answers. Why was the nautiloid hunting you? What did the ghaik want with your allies? Alter had none to give.
A second dragon landed and Al’chaia strode forward and commanded Lae’zel to stand down. The conversation would continue inside.
The interior of the asteroid held a citadel hewn through rock where red dragons lived alongside young githyanki warriors who drilled in training grounds, eagerly awaiting the day they too would become kith’rak and ride red dragons in defence of the plane of intellect.
Here, the gith informed you what had befallen your missing companions. Not death. Worse. They had been assimilated into Alterdeep.
To their knowledge, an ulitharid named Extremiton had crafted a perfect lie—a simulated Waterdeep woven from stolen thoughts. Those captured dreamed themselves awake inside it, their minds networked into a shared illusion. Extremiton watched through many faces, refining its world with every interaction.
Al’chaia explained the plan in terms even the youngest squire could understood; you would infiltrate the dream. By astral projection.
“This is a rescue mission,” Al’chaia said. “You will enter the false city, find your allies, and free them from that which binds them. Be wary though. Depending on how you die within, your mind may not find its way home.”
Lae’zel’s hand tightened on her Silver Sword, “In this, we will have one advantage the ghaik will not expect. We know it’s a dream.”
B. SEADEEPS
Entombed within the nautiloid’s ribbed plating, Caul waited in darkness. His darkvision telling him his invisibility had finally worn off, and as his madness settled his senses slowly returned to him and he was able to get some rest.
Caul was jostled awake some hours later as the nautiloid splashed down into what could only be assumed to be another underground river. The half-orc stilled his breath and listened as the illithids disembarked. Only when silence reigned did he risk prying his way free of the ship’s hull.
He dropped into the shockingly cold waterway—letting the current carry him through the churning heart of Seadeeps. At the end of the manmade canal stood a colossal dynamo harnessing the river’s force to power the alien civilization. The rushing water thundered against rotating turbines. Energy humming like an architectural migraine.
Swimming against the current, Caul found a maintenance hatch in the South water collector, and held his breath as two mind flayers passed by. They took no notice of him but the path ahead lay beyond sealed double doors. Where handles should be, there were burnished metal plates which bore raised, braille-like sigils—Qualith. Caul touched one and meaning flooded his brain in jagged fragments—thought, hunger, geometry. Pain lanced behind his eyes. He could not comprehend this language, much less harness it to use the control panel.
So the barbarian did what he does best.
Bracing himself, Caul’s muscles strained against the dark metal, using the Belt of Fire Giant Strength to force the doors apart. Overriding the Qualith locks, the doors slid open and Caul stepped through before they sealed behind him once again.
Where Caul now stood, lay a cavernous no man’s land. The piles of gith corpses and beheaded illithids rotting with tentacled heads mounted on spikes stood testament to the ancient war for the Astral Sea.
“What would become of this multiverse if githyanki didn't guard the Astral Plane from the illithid menace? What would reality become if beings of thought ruled the plane of thought?” — Mordenkainen
These questions ran through Caul’s mind as he made the decision to hand himself over to a Githyanki patrol as they marched through the cavern. The warriors spoke in the harsh dialect of gith but Caul did not resist when they stripped him of his weapons and marched him to their outpost. A squalid camp concealed within the walls of the cavern containing one of Halaster’s magic gates.
Caul was thrown to his knees before an older gith whom after casting tongues, introduced himself as Yaveklar. Caul told him of the battle for Wyllowwood. Of dragons and wormholes. Of Lae’zel.
He studied Caul, admiring his strength. Yaveklar questioned rhetorically whether Caul could be ‘The One’. Then he told him of Alterdeep.
Repeating the briefing that was shared to the team from Stardock, Yaveklar added that he believed Seadeeps held the bodies of the party’s missing companions though their minds had found their way into the shared dream.
Through their own expeditions, the gith had been lead to believe Extremiton’s avatar was none other than that of Durnan, the proprietor of the Yawning Portal. They tasked Caul with distupting the simulation from within. Stating that when the time comes, they would lead a strike force against Seadeeps from without.
Caul accepted the risks. He had boarded an occupied nautiloid to traverse the skies alone. He would walk willingly into a nightmare to bring his family home.
C. The Yawning Portal
You awoke amidst the warmth of the hearth and the sounds of clinking tankards and rolling laughter from down the hall.
Someway, somehow, you had found yourselves back in the Yawning Portal. The battle for Wyllowwood distant—as if partially remembered from a fleeting dream. As the party made their way to the dining hall you came upon the familiar faces of the Doom Raiders, a rival adventuring party who earned their name by specializing in cleaning out the lairs of liches. Their leader, Davil Starsong, claimed on their way back from Arcturiadoom they’d come upon a crashed nautiloid, finding yourselves—the sole survivors of the wreckage—they’d brought your unconscious bodies back to Waterdeep with them as they’d traversed underrmountain using Halaster’s magic gates.
Bonnie took breakfast orders, returning shortly afterwards with plates of bacon, eggs & chives, ham & Waterdhavian cheese biscuits, and a bottle of Baldurian Red. Victor covering the cost for the table bonded with Istrid Horn over their shared responsibilities as the de facto healers of their respective parties. Jorxkin likewise finding camaraderie with Skeemo Weirdbottle as they split off to exchange notes from their spellbooks.
When the question of a reward was brought up, Alter briefly considered gifting Wyllow’s staff of flowers to the Doom Raiders but after pointing it out the window and growing a daisy from the soil upon where Peter and Balagos were urinating, she elected to keep it. Offering up old spellbooks instead.
Looking up from his transcribing, Jorxkin noticed something strange. He saw Balagos crest the top of the stairs and walk across the floor disappearing into the bedrooms. Then again, Balagos appeared at the top of the stairs before continuing across the room just as he had moments ago to disappear into the bedrooms.
Following the path of the teleporting dog, Jorxkin came upon a solitary githyanki but the gnome’s absence did not go unnoticed by Alter and Caul who scolded him for intruding on another patron’s privacy and ushered Jorxkin back to the breakfast table with Victor.
As the others took their seats around the two tables that had been shoved together, Victor too noticed something strange. Ziraj, the Hunter—the half-orc archer of the Doom Raiders—was standing by the window, clutching his oversized longbow when seemingly his eyes had begun to play tricks on him. For half a heartbeat, the half-orc had begun walking into the wall, feet sliding as his motion carried him nowhere. Then Victor blinked and Ziraj was seated again.
The monk stood up and calmly addressed the table, “Cool, um, can you give me a sec?” He then crossed over to Jorxkin, grabbing the gnome by the wrist and half-dragged/half-lead him towards the staircase where Victor seized his shoulders, and stared into his eyes stating with utter sincerity, “Jorxkin, we are so fucked.”
ALTERDEEP | SESSION 43
Last we left off, the League of Legends had been sundered—scattered across worlds, levels of Undermountain, and even realities themselves. Somehow, however, Jorxkin and Victor found themselves back among their companions in the familiar comfort of a tavern conversation. Yet both sensed something deeply wrong. The world felt… off. Like a dream that refused to quite behave like reality.
As the party made their way to the taproom, others became engrossed in correcting Volothamp Geddarm’s embellished dragon tales—Caul and Alter countering his stories with firsthand experience from Stormwreck Isle—while Victor noticed something peculiar. As the serving girl, Bonnie leaned across a table, a tattoo of a white rabbit flashed across her hip. Not a member of the faith himself but familiar nonetheless given his profession, Victor recalled that rabbits were sacred messengers of Shaundakul, The Helping Hand.
Trusting the omen, Victor followed Bonnie into the kitchen… and down into the cellar. It was only here that Bonnie turned to face him—now speaking with urgency. She confirmed his suspicions, they were trapped in Alterdeep, a psychic simulation maintained by the illithid Extremiton. The world they perceived was nothing more than a prison for their minds.
From her robes she produced two potions; Blue: allowing the drinker to forget the truth and live peacefully within the illusion, and red: stay in wonderland and discover just how deep the rabbit hole goes.
Victor chose the red potion.
Reality shifted. The cellar dissolved into a translucent haze of seams and alien glyphs. Bonnie alone and a couple figures materializing behind her—Victor’s companions—remaining solid. Bonnie revealed her true form to Victor. It was a familiar half-orc barbarian, Caul who had astral projected into the simulation to rescue Victor and Jorxkin from the ulitharid’s clutches.
Unfortunately, having trailed him, simulation Alter noticed Victor had woken up. The party’s duplicates, informed by simulation Alter sprang into action to stop Victor from waking the gnome wizard. Having slipped away one-by-one leaving Jorxkin, still sitting at the bar listening to Volo ramble about dragons, they barricaded the cellar door, set traps, and plunged the stairwell into magical darkness.
After a tense standoff where the real Peter also trapped the bottom of the stairs, the real party pushed upward. You burned through the barricaded door, Caul—being the first one up—tripped Peter’s snare, and found himself hanging upside-down suspended by an invisible rope.
Jorxkin, having wandered into the kitchen by this point, already having been tipped off by Victor’s warning, turned on the imposters and unleashed a fireball. The explosion revealed the true forms of the party’s duplicated—a squad of orogs.
The party emerged from the cellar throwing yourselves into the fight just as Brother Sepulcher, a disguised mind flayer entered with a psychic scream that rippled through the tavern, but enough of the party managed to still their minds and retaliate with a counterattack. Jorxkin finishing the creature with a barrage of Scorching Rays, burning the illithid out of the priest’s corpse.
And with that death, Jorxkin’s eyes were opened. He could now see the Weave of the simulation. Within Alterdeep, thought shaped reality. Jorxkin tested this revelation by compressing the cursed sword stuck to his hand into a metal cylinder. With a flick, it ignited into a blade of radiant green light—a humming lightsaber.
Peter experimented as well, simply willing a doorway through the wall and stepping directly into the taproom. Their first act upon arrival? Instantly realizing Mirt was just another construct… and exploding him with their minds. The simulation retaliated as a group of urchins transformed into charging troglodytes.
The battle that followed was fought as much with the mind as it was with steel. Alter bent the simulation to teleport behind the aberration, marking it with Hunter’s Mark. Extremiton had a few tricks up his sleeve as well though, teleporting about the Yawning Portal, swapping places with patrons frozen along with the rest of the simulation. Jorxkin, flew across the room and cut through the illithid with his lightsaber, the radiant blade cauterizing the wound instantly. Extremiton recoiled from Jorxkin’s blow, levitating above the entryway to Undermountain and mind blasting the party stunning Al’chaia, Peter and Badul.
Badul may have been stunned by the psionic blast but that only allowed Greeble to take full control over his host, willing Badul’s body to transform into a massive intellect devourer which leapt upon the ulitharid and began to devour its mind.
Lae’zel leapt from the balcony above with silver blade drawn but this was the ulitharid’s domain and once again his form shifted into that of another patron and Lae’zel was sent plummeting into the well, catching herself a ways down with sheer psionic will.
Shaking himself out of his stunned state, Peter focused on manipulating time itself locally around Badul giving him another chance to consume the Extremiton’s mind once and for all but the ulitharid would not let himself succumb to such a fate. He fought back viciously, unleashing out another mind blast just as Caul hurled Badul towards him.
Badul’s astral self was blasted into oblivion.
Having found himself limited by rules of the ulitharid’s domain, Caul opted to take the blue pill himself. Accepting the reality around him and fighting for his life nonetheless. Having cut down street urchins that bit and clawed at Jorxkin’s body, and watched ‘Durnan’ unhinge his jaw and attempt to swallow Jorxkin whole before psychically dominating the tavern and its patrons, the half-orc barbarian finally closed the distance and delivered the final blow with bonecounter.
With Extremiton dead, Alterdeep shattered like glass as the illusion fell away. Those projecting from afar were hurled back into their bodies at Stardock and Seadeeps. Victor and Jorxkin awoke in their psi-pods, gasping as they woke from the nightmare.
The prison of Alterdeep was no more but the true horrors of Undermountain still await.
IN THE BELLY OF ABERRATIONS | SESSION 44
Jorxkin’s eyes snapped open first—dim green light, curved glass inches from his nose, something viscous sliding down the inside of the capsule. His fingers twitched against a slick membrane. Across the chamber Victor’s figure shifted as the aasimar woke with rapid breaths that fogged the glass. Victor’s hands pressed against the window. Jorxkin’s free hand did the same. The pods didn’t open. Victor freed the crowbar from his pack. He wedged the bar in and leaned his weight into it until the locking mechanism broke and with a hiss the capsule peeled open. Fluid spilled out onto the grating of the floor.
Thirteen more pods hummed along the walls. Ten with green lights. Occupied.
After locating and freeing Jorxkin in a similar fashion, Victor flicked the slime from his forearms, crossed the room, and eased open the door—and shut it again just as quickly. Two mind flayers with a formation of hulking orogs beyond them. All facing away from the door and seemingly hadn’t noticed him. Behind him, Jorxkin had slipped through the other doorway and onto a narrow metal walkway suspended above a roaring dynamo. Four massive water collectors churned in the cardinal directions, feeding the machine that powered the illithid citadel.
Back in the pod nexus, Victor went to work. He managed to cracked open three more capsules with his crowbar before seriously missing the Belt of Fire Giant Strength he’d attuned to during the fight with the Aboleth. Luckily the pair found a forgotten clipboard detailing the locking mechanisms for the pods and managed to sever the corresponding wires. One by one the other prisoners staggered free: Waterdhavian merchants, laborers, a number of others, and a sharply dressed noble who handed over a pouch of 500 gold to Victor with trembling hands. “Get me back to the City of Splendors and there will be more where this came from,” he whispered, breath shaking. “My family can reward you. Generously.”
While Victor handed out weapons, Jorxkin perhaps regrettably found he still was unable to unhand his. Eleven minds were now united towards the common goal of a swift escape while outside there lurked a citadel of famished mind flayers.
Far to the West, across the blood-soaked battlefield of Seadeeps, Caul woke on a rough stone bench in the githyanki stronghold. He rolled his shoulders, joints aching, and told the commanders what had happened inside Alterdeep—how he and the League had killed the ulitharid, Extremiton, and shattered the illusion from within.
This news silenced the room, for such a victory meant the time for waiting was over. Acting commanders Yaveklar and Lashiir leapt to their feet and called their greatswords telekinetically. Githyanki warriors filled the hall with a thunder of boots and battle cries as the call to arms spread through the outpost. The battalion formed ranks and marched through no-man’s-land toward the mind flayer citadel.
At the entryway to the mind flayer citadel the army came upon a sealed door with a burnished plate of dark, alien metal embossed with a braille-like form of tactile writing. As he did before however, Caul stepped forward, spat into his palms, gripped one of the metal doors, and heaved. With a grinding shear of metal on stone, the doors separated and from the other side—mind flayers and their orog soldiers were already waiting.
Axes lowered. Shields locked. The orogs had formed a brutal phalanx—greataxes in the front line, javelins poised from behind. The githyanki knights barked commands, and following their warriors into the fray all but four vanished in flashes of silver light, misty stepping straight through the formation toward the mind flayers before the abberations could unleash their mind blasts.
One illithid fell almost immediately beneath a storm of silver blades. The other raised its tentacles and detonated a psychic shockwave. Three githyanki collapsed, clutching their skulls.
Then with the remaining gith warriors at his back the half-orc smashed into the phalanx like a battering ram, splitting shields and crunching armour. The orogs tightened ranks into a tortoise formation, shields overlapping as they tried to combat the flank.
From the far walkway, Jorxkin’s magic missiles hammered into the remaining mind flayer—and Victor came flying in with a Superman punch, landing in the middle of the melee with a blur of fists pummelling the mind flayer into the ground. The illithid collapsed and the remaining orogs didn’t last much longer.
During the skirmish, Jorxkin had ushered the freed Waterdhavians out the other door towards the dynamo and it was at this point that three more mind flayers emerged from a nearby chamber. Thinking fast, the gnome muttered a quick incantation and his body warped into the tentacled gray skin, and dark robes of a mind flayer. A very short mind flayer. A lil’-lithid if you will.
The commoners deserted Jorxkin, running towards their gith saviours. Jorxkin’s disguise lasted but three seconds before the mind flayers encircled and reached out for him with their tentacles. Before they could grapple him, however, Jorxkin misty stepped, vanishing and reappearing in the psiopod nexus where the fleeing Waterdhavians had become a panicked crowd all pushing and showing their way past one another in the bottleneck of the doorway to escape their captors. Victor helped usher the crowd to safety while Caul forced his way through the sea of people to come to Jorxkin’s aid.
One mind flayer slipped past him though and its mind blast erupted into the hallway. The effect was catastrophic. Almost all of the surging bodies suddenly went rigid, slamming into one another before crumpling to the ground bleeding from the nose or ears. Only three remained standing, and even a couple gith found themselves stunned.
The other two mind flayers lunged for Caul. Tentacles wrapping around his head, fighting over who would devour his brain; but before he became lunch, silver blades flashed as Yaveklar and Lashiir astral-stepped past the pile of bodies, carving down one of the illithids and breaking the second’s grapple on the barbarian. Realizing they had met their match, the last illithid unleashed another psychic blast stunning Caul and the gith before turning and diving into the churning water of the dynamo.
Victor dived in after it without hesitation, radiant light flashing off his silver blade beneath the surface. Victor stilled his mind as he felt the illithid’s psychic influence but despite landing some grievous wounds the creature’s tentacles found purchase on his skull as he found himself suddenly unable to move and sinking as his light faded to darkness.
The last thing Victor saw was a silver teardrop sinking past his periphery. A drop of mercury. It spread and flattened beneath him into a gleaming disk that lifted both combatants from the torrent. Water rolled off it as it rose out of the water where Jorxkin stood, one hand raised, controlling Tenser’s floating disk. Victor and the mind flayer lay sprawled across it—and Caul’s javelins punched through the creature’s skull a heartbeat later. The illithid went still though no doubt more would be upon the party within minutes.
With the rescue mission complete, the survivors retreated. Jorxkin posed regally like a pharaoh on his palanquin floating above the carnage on his arcane disk, while the githyanki bowed bowed low as he drifted past. Behind him and the party trailed the three surviving Waterdhavians.
The battalion had almost made it back to the outpost when a gentle voice brushed against Caul and Victor’s thoughts, “Well met, I hope.” A flumph hovered in a nearby alcove, its jellyfish-like body pulsing a deep blue and crimson. The creature’s telepathic voice trembled as it spoke of the githyanki hunting its kind like vermin.
Behind it, the party saw a flash of something move. A vast shape slammed through the walls of the tunnel like a river carving its way down a mountainside. Caul shouted into the flumph’s mind but it was too late. The massive creature’s head split open like a flower and roared! Its bellowing shook stalactites free from the very ceiling and from its fanged maw uncoiled barbed tongues that seized upon the flumph—screaming telepathically now. As its victim struggled, the massive worm wretched out a bath of acid that reduced the aberration to slime—and leaving behind, you noticed, its intact brain. Carefully, the feral creature curled one of its tongues around the organ swallowing it whole.
A neothelid. The result when the mind flayer reproductive cycle goes horribly wrong for when an illithid collony collapses, typically after an external assault, and the elder brain is killed, the colony’s tadpoles are suddenly freed from their fate. They no longer serve as food—and are no longer fed by their caretakers. Driven by hunger, they turn to devouring one another. Only one tadpole survives out of the thousands in the colony's pool, and it emerges as a neothelid.
Panic tore through the gith ranks. Despite orders from their commanders to protect Jorxkin at all costs, the battalion broke formation and ran. Another spray of acid had melted flesh from bone as the creature surged forward already hungry for its next meal.
Knowing the others would make it to the stronghold in time Caul stopped running. With a roar of his own he turned and charged straight at the gargantuan aberration. Hoping to double the time Caul was trying to buy the others, Victor darted to his side, hands glowing as he slammed healing into the raging barbarian before turning to retreat—but he had gotten too close. A barbed tongue shot out and wrapped around Victor’s ankle. Victor hit the stone hard and was dragged kicking and screaming toward the neothelid’s toothy maw.
Caul lunged to grasp Victor’s hand but he was too slow. As he disappeared into the aberration’s gullet Victor tore off his Periapt of Health, tossing it to Caul’s feet knowing that upon his death the radiant fire inside him would explode outward in a supernova that would hopefully take the monster with him.
Not letting Victor claim all the glory Caul scooped up the periapt and shouted for Yaveklar who was by Caul’s side in an instant. Together, and grinning like madmen, the two of them charged the neothelid together as its jaws opened again. Caul takes a step forward, bringing his greataxe down as the maw closes around the two of them. The last words uttered from the githyanki knight being, “He is The One!” Then the neothelid swallowed them whole.
Arriving at the threshold of the stronghold, the sole Waterdhavian survivor, a shield dwarf named Jarana Hammerstone was the last to stumble in as all those who had not had the flesh melted from their bones by the worm had been bought enough time to find their way to safety. The door to the stronghold slammed shut and commander Lashiir, linking hands with six of her warriors, Jorxkin, and the dwarf, through her Silver Greatsword cast plane shift fleeing as nine to the Astral Sea on their way to Stardock.
From within the neothelid’s stomach, acidic bile burned like molten tar. Unconscious, Victor’s body blazed with radiant fire as the other two struggled against the contracting flesh. Caul found Victor’s wrist and Yaveklar raised his own Silver Greatsword likewise causing the three of them to vanish from the monster’s gut before reappearing a mere hundred feet from the others, floating in the endless gray void of the Astral Sea—glistening with slime.
Caul forced a healing potion down Victor’s throat and the plagued aasimar coughed, sputtered, and dragged in a ragged breath; having the mind to slip on his periapt again before having a well-deserved mental breakdown over the events of the day.
Around you a dull silence spread. There was no gravity. No solid ground beneath your feet. Only the endless, silver expanse of the Astral Plane. Both silver swords having spent their charges for the day, you found yourselves stranded.
Far off in the distance, something immense drifted through the void—a colossal piece of solid matter amid the wreckage of forgotten worlds. As it slowly rotated, you realized what you were looking at. An enormous skull, floating like a dead moon in the graveyard of the gods.
MAYBE THE WORLD DOESN'T SUCK | SESSION 45
Where last we left off... Caul, and a batalion of githyanki led by Yaveklar and Lashiir had successfully rescued Jorxkin and Victor from Seadeeps only to find themselves stranded in the Astral Sea with both Silver Swords depleted of their magic until the next dawn.
Jorxkin’s eyes darted about for Tenser’s Floating Disk but the plane shift had separated the gnome from his flying saucer.
With Victor once again in stable condition, at least physically, Caul gave him a half-hearted punch that set the monk drifting away but grabbed hold of his collar before he got too far.
Victor didn’t react, his gaze slipped past Caul. Wyllow’s forest burned behind his eyes. He felt the searing pain of the sunbeam cutting through is chest. Then the tavern that was not the tavern. Extremiton’s final breath. Alterdeep collapsing around him. The mind flayer citadel. Whenever he closed his eyes he saw the crowd of people he couldn’t save as they collapsed to the ground or had the flesh melted from their bones. Time had slowed as Victor was dragged towards the toothy maw of the neothelid, he had felt purpose in making the sacrifice play, throwing down his periapt and taking the worm down with him, but even that ending was denied to him. He didn’t know yet if his being here in the Astral Sea was a blessing or a curse but equipping his periapt at least granted him some peace of mind.
The githyanki moved as one. Arms linked, eyes forward, thought turning to motion. Lashiir’s voice low as she advanced, “It would appear the ghaik have grown a neothelid,” she said, drifting beside Yaveklar. “It must be killed at all costs.”
Yaveklar, having been inside the belly of such a creature mere moments ago had other thoughts, “We cannot throw more lives into the red throat of that abattoir. We are the shield of Créche K’liir—we cannot afford to fall. They cannot afford us to fall.”
One thing was for certain, if more time was to be spent in this endless expanse, you needed to find shelter. The massive skull rotating in the distance. The party began to will themselves towards it, skirting a patch of ruins for cover.
As the party approached the ruins Caul scanned the stars to try and get his bearings but the sky was wrong. All wrong. The constellations were inverted, the mirror of the material plane; and one star in particular was shining brighter and brighter. Caul shouted for the party to hold. The star flickered, and behind it resolved a vast, golden shape. A monstrous anglerfish, its hide freckled with bioluminescent light. The “star” was its lure.
One of the githyanki that was trying to flee suddenly turned and drifted towards it, under the enchantment. The Star Angler opened its mouth revealing rows of longsword-sized teeth and gnashed it’s jaws thrice trying to tear through the githyanki but heavily armoured and at home moving nimbly within this plane the battalion shielded their eyes from the lure and danced around the enormous fish as it learned its place in the food chain of the Astral Sea. Suddenly flying through a portal on the horizon dragons, four of them, tore into the fray. Alter loosed arrow after arrow from dragon-back while Peter leaped from his mount, rocketing just behind his own firebolt and falling towards the battle faster than Smoakcant could will herself to fly. Jorxkin, at an equally rapid pace, spaced himself from the Star Angler and cast Blight—necrosis spreading across the creature’s hide, black veins blooming from old wounds. As the monster recoiled from the suppressive fire, Victor found an opening to duck beneath its mandibles to land a flurry of blows along the ribcage—the sequence ending with a final, driving blow straight to the sternum stunning it momentarily. Exploiting the monster’s moment of weakness, Caul roared and sailed forward with the githyanki at his back, blades tearing through softened flesh. He brought his greataxe down and with one final strike the creature remained slack. Its gargantuan corpse drifted, momentum carrying it onward to join the countless others in this graveyard of the gods.
As the cheering died down and the battalion circled around the four young red dragons and their riders, Peter being lifted back onto Smoakcant as the massive dragon skull appeared beneath him, both he and Alter recognized a word being repeated between the dragons; “VAY-vuh” or the number nine in draconic. Its significance soon learned to all as now four githyanki knights, Yaveklar, Lashiir, Al’chaia, and Lae’zel had only one Silver Greatsword with a plane shift charge remaining between them. Nine. That was the number of bodies that could be spared from the untold number of other monsters that called the Astral Sea home. The rest would have to wait until dawn or find some other means of getting home. Al’chaia, astride her dragon Zolcharrx, commended her subordinates for rescuing and delivering the professor to her but ordered Yaveklar, Lashiir, and their batallion to step aside in favour of Jorxkin, his party, and and your ward (Jarana Hammerstone). This left but one space left for Lae’zel but after a heated conversation in gith she spit back in common at her kith’rak, “Then I will die as one of them.” Before joining the others that were left behind astride her dragon, Infernexus, knowingly dooming herself to a fate of astral dreadnaughts, solar dragons, and even spelljamming pirates to improve the chances of survival for her people. Al’chaia didn’t wait around to find a ninth body.
Through her Silver Greatsword she cast plane shift and the endless gray void of the Astral Sea folded into the black tapestry and glittering diamonds of the Material Plane’s night sky. The forgotten force of gravity suddenly returned as you found yourselves plummeting towards Stardock. Peter, weighed down by his armour, took the crash landing the hardest slamming into a pile of crates, wood splintering under him. To add insult to injury, a blur of fur barrelled into Peter just as he had gotten back on his feet and sent him sprawling again. “Balagos no! Get back here—” Badul stumbled after, grabbing at the dog’s collar. “He’ll kill me if you float off—” Peter welcomed the face licks, laughing in spite of himself.
Al’chaia dismounted to confront Jorxkin, “Professor Jorxkin Zebblerbeeble.” The party laughed, “You taught there. A student. Yrlakka. A githzerai. He carried your arcane spells back to the plane of Limbo like stolen fire. Magic missile. Shield. Creation.” The distant ring of hammer on metal punctuated her words. “My people forge psionic arms and armor from alchemical silver. Only through these magical items can we mimic a fraction of the power the githzerai now weild.” Her blade rose to press against Jorxkin’s chest, “You taught him. Now you will teach me.” Jorxkin sheepishly declined saying, “My mind isn’t what it once was.” Whipping around to point her blade at the party now, “You survived the ghaik citadel. You crawled out of a neothelid—” Looking back at Jorxkin, “—and yet memory escapes you? You misunderstand your position. You were rescued. Do not make me reconsider that decision. You will remember. Rest tonight. Tomorrow we begin.”
As Al’chaia departed, a handful of githyanki warriors took her place as your chaperones. They showed you about the Crèche, leading you past the barracks, the hatchery, and to the mess hall where you dined on otherworldly delicacies; infinity vine stalks, H’cathan doom radishes, aartuk tongues, giant Space Hamster hocks, dried mortiss meat, pickled jammer leaches, and puffer steaks.
A feast Alter took her leave of, opting rather to help herself to a set of gemstones from the armour of a sleeping githyanki knight, and locating the smithy and armoury before returning none the wiser.
Following the meal the tour continued to the prison where one cell was allocated to your party for the duration of your stay while the other two housed a githzerai with a shaved head, and two mind flayers. Shackled facing the lead-lined wall.
You noted the differences in culture between the two extraplanar races, noting the high value the githyanki place on individuality and strength of will within their militaristic society while the shaved head and calm demeanor of the githzerai was befitting of their historically more monastic order.
The last stop of the tour was the training grounds. Seemingly having still not had his fill of blood for the day, or perhaps eager to prove himself on behalf of his party, Caul agreed to spar with the gith instructor but given his severe wounds already from the day’s antics and after a few rounds of trading blows against the gith’s Silver Greatsword he yielded.
Rage subsiding, Caul looked around at the scorched remains of straw dummies crafted to resemble illithids and for a moment he was back in Seadeeps in the mind flayer citadel surrounded by real illithids. His mind playing tricks on him again, Caul fell to his knees to accept his death but still death did not come for him.
Having already proven the strength of his will, Caul had earned the respect of the instructor who shared with him and the party Al’chaia’s challenge: the githyanki kithrak has promised to award a manual of gainful exercise and a tome of clear thought to her most accomplished soldier.
Having slipped away again during all this, Alter made her way upstairs where she stumbled upon a mural of Tiamat, whom she recognized as the goddess of chromatic dragons, locked in battle with Bahamut, the god of metallic dragons. Before returning to her quarters with the rest of the party, Alter managed to pry another handful of gemstones from the armour of yet another sleeping knight and came to the understanding that they acted as a coat of arms to distinguish between the knights.
Alter and Peter took first watch together, both finding themselves restless in such a place, bonding over their shared love for dragons. Peter having worn the crest of a red dragon talon all his life, while Alter after meeting Caul in Stormwreck Isle, lived among the dragons there for a time. The two of you swapped tales and Alter revealed her dragon tattoos to which Peter was already imagining his own. The familiar sounds of a forge hammer ringing distantly in his ears, and the proximity to an entire flight of red dragons had him feeling closer to Katherine than he had in quite some time. Eventually Peter found himself nodding off comfortably, no doubt dreaming of riding dragons through the Astral Sea. One thought crossing his mind before sleep took him, “Maybe the world doesn’t suck.”
A tonal shift as Caul awoke to take Peter’s place. After sitting in silence for an hour during which Caul traced the lines of his tribal tattoos and found the places where new scars had broken the pattern, Alter finally broke the silence asking who gave him his tattoos, as hers were from seemingly a lost love from the thieve’s guild that raised her. Caul answered that his were done by his wife, Süta, with whom he had a son. Alter nodding along solemnly came to learn that both were taken from Caul in the night during a raid from another tribe. Despite his rage sustaining him and allowing him to cut down the murderers, when he opened his eyes he saw Süta lying there, perfectly still save for the pool of red that now stained the bedroll. Alter, realizing the unimaginable horrors that Caul has already faced, could only offer her condolences. An inadequate compensation for all that Caul has suffered.
Victor awoke to his hand submerged in a bowl of warm water. Alter, conveniently, all the way across the room ‘sleeping’. He woke Jorxkin to join him, confirming his suspicions that the wizard truly does have no recollection of this past that Al’chaia speaks of. Overhead something heavy dragged across the exterior of the asteroid—scales scraping, wings unfurling, then silence.
Morning came with a knock at the door which was opened to Lae’zel, dried blood caking her armour. She looked past the rest of the party, ignoring glances from Alter to cast hers on Jorxkin, “Al’chaia believes you’re hiding something. Tell me she is wrong.” Jorxkin repeated what he told Al’chaia but Lae’zel had come with a warning, “Come morning she will tear your mind apart. What remains afterward will not be useful to anyone. I propose a different ending. If you’re already gone by the time she comes for you it might just be enough to tarnish her reputation.”
Responding to the party’s questioning of her motives in all of this, Lae’zel described the position of the kith’rak of Crèche K'liir thusly, “Above the throne a Silver Greatsword is held aloft by a single hair of a horse’s tail. This is what it means to be the kith’rak: though wielding much power, always having to watch in anxiety against dangers that might try to overtake you, whether it be a jealous seer or warrior, a deceitful lie, an enemy force, a poor combat manuever, or anything else. On Crèche K'liir, the seat is not offered. You take it with a blade that has not yet cooled. You stand where the last one stood and you feel the thread for yourself. A fool is grateful for every day that the thread holds strong, a coward pretends it is not even there. Neither lasts long. I would stand tall with my neck beneath the blade, and I would watch and I would listen—always listen for the hand that would cut the thread before it does.”
The way Lae’zel saw it, the party had but two options. Steal another silver sword and risk the Astral Sea again. Or find a dragon willing to defy its rider—and fly for the Rock of Bral to find a teleportation circle back to Waterdeep.
Once again, all eyes fell on Jorxkin.
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