Recent Posts For Tag: interlude

Popular tags:
Back to all Posts (See More...)
← Previous 1 3 4 5 6 7 8
Pointer-left Investigator__male_2_thumb
Posted by the GM
De Exilio
Interlude: Return to Teshburl
~ ninth-day, 29th of Nightal, The Year of Wild Magic, highsun
somewhere over the Sea of Swords

"It has been a long time since we have seen the ocean," said Hakam.

   "Is that the same water that surrounds my home?" asked Ilthian.

   "It is," the cleric answered.

   Kytharrah had never seen so much water in his life, but he was actually more confused by the smell of the ocean. "Salt?" he said, while sniffing in deeply.

   They had reached the Sea of Swords, the great western ocean of Faerûn. The sun was at its highest point in the sky, as they left the land behind them in their journey south through the sky.

   "Yes," said Leokas. "Large bodies of water like this have salt in them?"

   "Why is that?" asked Ilthian.

   The ranger shrugged. "Solisar probably knows."

   "Where do you think we are now?" asked Hakam.

   "Somewhere between Waterdeep and Baldur's Gate," replied the elf.

   "Are not those two cities far from each other?"

   "400 miles separate them, yes. I am not sure how far the strong winds over the Star Mounts drove us west."

   "Is that a problem?" asked Szordrin.

   "I do not think so," explained Leokas. "Unless we were driven all the way as west as Waterdeep, which I highly doubt, we shall still have to pass over the Dragon Neck Peninsula. We can have Solisar adjust the magical winds to drive us a bit to the southeast just in case, but we will not be able to miss the peninsula; it juts out for hundreds of miles on all the maps I have ever seen."

   "The peninsula is one thing," said Hakam. "I am doubting whether we can pinpoint Sseth's lair."

   That morning, Hakam had messaged the brass dragon and announced that they were to be visiting him within the next several days. Despite two separate sendings, Hakam had failed to receive clear directions from Sseth, because of Sseth's lengthy exclamations of how delightful it would be for him to meet everyone again.

   "I am going to tell him to meet us five miles due north of Teshburl instead," said Hakam.


More than 24 hours passed, and they were still floating high over open ocean. Szrodrin began to doubt Leokas' navigation skills.

   "Baldur's Gate is over 400 miles north of Tethyr," Leokas said. "We do not travel that distance in a day, and we know that we were northwest of Baldur's Gate when we first reached the ocean. It is not surprising that we have not seen the peninsula yet."

   "What happens if we pass it by mistake tonight?"

   "That would be a problem," Leokas admitted. "When I am on the helm again, I shall lower us back down to a mile above the surface. With Belvin's enhanced vision, I think we should be able to see if we are passing over land, even in the dark. Besides, there will be plenty of light; it is the full moon tonight. It is, after all, the last day of the year, the way you humans tell time."

   Kytharrah and Ilthian were fascinated by the idea of the year "changing", once it was explained to them. Ilthian was not ignorant of a cycle of years, but her people did not keep track of when one started or ended in an official way; they had no calendar. Kytharrah, having lived his whole life underground, had no concept of a year at all. Days, with the "guiding light" coming and going in an endless cycle, were confusing enough as it was.

   Those living on the surface of Faerûn, however, knew from an early age, by various songs and other memorization tools, the "roll of years" in both directions for a good number of decades. It was the last day of the Year of Wild Magic. The Year of Rogue Dragons was about to begin.

   "Why do the years have names?" Ilthian asked. "Why do they not have numbers? They are, after all, simply a count of time."

   "They also have numbers," said Hakam, "but no one agrees on where to start counting. In Calimshan, tomorrow will begin year number fifteen of the tenth age. In Tethyr it will be year 1,587. For people living in a place called the Dalelands, it will be year 1,373. Most of the people of Faerûn use the way of counting of the Dalelands in addition to their own way, but it is actually far simpler if everyone agrees on giving the year a name. For example, I do not know how the elves of Solisar's home count the years."

   "Elves who do not interact often with humans do not count years," said Leokas. "A year is a small time for an elf, remember."

   "Who decided what to name all of the years?" Ilthian asked.

   "A wizard named Alaundo is what I was told," said Hakam. "I do not rightly know for certain."

   "Many people believe that the names of the years are prophecies," said Leokas, "a hidden sign of some major event that will happen that year."

   "Who are the 'rogue dragons' then?" asked Ilthian.

   "Whoever they are," said Szordrin, "I hope that we do not have to deal with them; we have enough to concern ourselves with."


To their relief, on the morning of the first of Hammer, New Year's Day, they passed over the Dragon Neck Peninsula, a thickly forested narrow stretch of land, which was part of the kingdom of Tethyr.

   "One month ago we were leaving Hartsvale," said Leokas, having just come off his shift at the helm.

   "And one year ago, you and I first met, my friend," said Belvin, recalling their chance meeting in the Forest of Mir, when they immediately found themselves in battle with a small band of goblins.

   Solisar was at the helm, and he caused the ship to hover. Kytharrah and Belvin worked together to adjust the sails as best they could so that when Solisar drove the ship forward again, it would turn to port. It took about twenty minutes to get themselves angled in the direction that they wanted and then another twenty minutes to return the sails to their original position so that they could press forward at this new heading.

   There was still a long distance to travel. Later that day they passed over another, shorter peninsula, the Starspire Peninsula, which was mountainous. It, too, was a part of Tethyr. Leokas estimated that it was still 100 miles from this peninsula to Calimport.

   The next day, they reached land again, a wilderness of sand — the Calim Desert. Now, the path was clear — they simply had to keep the coast to the port side and they would eventually reach the Teshburl. However, this meant several slow and annoying stops to adjust the sails. This led to them discussing what options they might have for hiring sailors once they arrived in Teshburl. Hakam, in particular, was not comfortable with hiring just anyone. In any case, they were still at least a day a way from Teshburl.

   "Keep an eye out for the blue dragon," Leokas warned Belvin, for it was along this coast that Yrevkethend's lair was located.

   They saw no dragons over the next two days, however. At highsun, on the third day of the year, they could spot what they guessed was the port of Teshburl from the sky, now approximately twenty-five miles to the north of them. The journey had taken about five and half days in total.

   Hakam prayed for ten minutes for the power to send a message to Sseth that they had arrived and would meet him in about three hours five miles north of the port town.

   "I think that I have taken ill," Sseth answered in Hakam's mind. "I regret that I will not be able to meet. Perhaps you could come to my lair instead."
Session: 92nd Game Session - Wednesday, Jul 19 2017 from 7:00 PM to 10:00 PM
Viewable by: Public
Tags: interlude
Page 12
Something happened. I do not understand, but I can no longer make things jump. Solisar thinks that the goddess of magic has taken away my power. I do not think that that is fair. Hakam says that my people, the forokell, must not be aloud to use magic. Why are the gods not fair?
Viewable by: Public
Tags: interlude , Recap
Page 11
New words
wrong • our

My list of new words is getting shorter. That makes me feel proud.

I also feel proud because I can do magic now. Well, I can only do one trick, as Kytharrah calls it. I can make nereby objects jump. Kytharrah and I have been playing a new game where I make something in the room jump, and he tries to grab it before it stops moving.

I am going to start using this journal to record what new things I learn about magic.

Obzervation 1:
I can only make something jump if it is closer to me than about 25 feet. I made something jump at 26 feet 1 time in 10 that I tried. I made it jump 7 times out of 10 at 25 feet, and I made it jump at 24 feet 9 times out of ten. I can always do it when it is close to me now.

Obzervation 2:
I can only make something jump if it is about as hevie as Hakam's szord. I stacked some of the bars of monie on top of each other and tried to jump the one on the bottom. I can only jump the bottom one if the stack is no more than 5 bars high.

Obzervation 3:
I can only make something jump if no one is holding it.

Obzervation 4:
I can only make something jump if it is not a magical thing. Magical things feel like they are fiting against me.
Viewable by: Public
Pointer-left Investigator__male_2_thumb
Posted by the GM
De Exilio
Interlude: Magic Lessons
~ eighth-day, 28th of Nightal, The Year of Wild Magic, dawn
somewhere over the High Forest

The next morning, at dawn of the 28th of the month, Leokas looked over the deck railing to the endless forest now below them. (Solisar was now at the helm.) Belvin, having just finished his daily prayers, joined his friend.

   "The Lost Peaks," said Leokas, pointing at two small mountains below. "I was friends with a centaur from there."

   "Does it sadden you that we are flying over your home without a visit?" asked Belvin.

   "We are elves;" said Leokas, "what is one year away but a wink in one's life?"

   "Yet, surely the weights of moments are not all the same," said Belvin.

   "I wonder when Mythlos and my mother will make it to the forest," said Leokas, changing the subject.

   Belvin shrugged. Then he looked toward the bow and pointed. "Which mountains are those?"

   On the horizon, some 100 miles ahead of them, they could see massive and steep snow-covered mountains bursting from the deeply forested land.

   "The great Star Mounts," said Leokas. "Most of the mountains in that range are over 20,000 feet. I will go tell Solisar to increase our elevation to at least four miles."

   "Cannot we simply fly around them, there to the west?"

   "The helmsman cannot turn the vessel, remember. Steering requires adjustment to the sails, and as you know, it can take us an hour to do that properly. We would smash into them before that at this speed. It is far easier when sitting in the chair to raise the craft. We really need to find us some true sailors."

   As Leokas turned to go, Hakam joined them, though he kept himself from the railing. "I received another message from Jayce," the cleric said. "He says that he has found Samber's former wife. She claims that she left Samber because he loved his work more than her."

   "Why does Samber's love life matter to us?" asked Belvin.

   Hakam continued, "There is more that I find far more interesting: Jayce says that the woman, Samber's ex-wife, looks like an older, Lantanna version of Ilthian. The woman has red hair instead of Ilthian's unnatural blue and lacks Ilthian's skin patterns. I am curious if others whom we met on Samber's island look like others in Samber's past."

   "Did you ask him that?" said Leokas.

   "I was not able to; the magic item he uses to communicate with us, can only send twice a tenday, if I understand correctly, and I did not prepare for such magic this morning."


As the end of the day was approaching, they reached the foreboding, needle peaks of the Star Mounts. The winds were powerful here and began driving them to the west. The sails were not affected, nor could they feel any wind if they stood on deck, for they were within the protective cover of the magic bubble around the whole spelljammer. It was as if they were a ship in a bottle, and that bottle was being blown.

   By dusk, the mountains were behind them, and they passed over the southern edge of the High Forest. Leokas informed them that the whole forest was about 300 miles long north to south. This meant that they were traveling between 380 and 390 miles per day. They still had almost 2,000 miles to go.

   When morning came again, they were traveling over cleared plains and hills, and then at highsun, they reached the ocean, the Sea of Swords. Leokas did not know exactly where they were anymore, since he did not know how badly the winds about the Star Mounts had forced them off course. He knew that they must be somewhere between Waterdeep and Baldur's Gate, but at least 400 miles of coastland were between those two cities. Even so, the ranger was convinced that if they continued south over the Sea, they would eventually pass over the narrow Dragon Neck Peninsula of Tethyr, at which point they would stop, attempt to adjust the sails, and fly southeast toward Calimshan.

   Later that day, when Leokas was at the helm, Szordrin and Solisar joined Kytharrah and Ilthian in her cabin, where the blue-haired maiden was helping the impatient minotaur write his letters.

   "Ilthian," said the sun elf, "if you have a moment, Szordrin and I are curious about something. We were wondering if you would like me to teach you magic."

   Ilthian beamed. "I would love to learn magic. I did not know that one even could learn magic."

   "I am not certain that you can learn magic," said Solisar. "All races are different. Some, like Cassiera's people, for example, inherently have a connection to the Weave, while others seem barely affected by it and thus can have little influence over it. Szordrin and I are wondering which kind of people you and your kin are."

   "What do I do?" she asked.

   "Szordrin's wand will help you see the Weave with your own eyes." Solisar handed the delicate, pale wooden baton to her.

   Kytharrah came over to see what was going on.

   "Here, let me stand behind you and guide your hands," said Solisar. "When you wave a wand in this motion quickly, the wand 'listens' for a special 'command word'."

   "Is the wand alive?" asked Ilthian.


   "Then how can it listen?"

   "Do you know how the strings of Mythlos' mandolin were tuned such that they each made specific sounds? A wand is something like that in reverse. Each wand is 'tuned' such that specific sounds activate the magic power stored inside."

   "What happens when the wand is active? And what is this wand's special word?"

   "Szordrin learned that this wand uses an ancient high elven phrase that means, 'Open my eyes.' I want you to wave the wand just like this and repeat after me."

   Solisar guided her hand and spoke the short phrase. Ilthian continued the pattern of motion correctly and repeated the words. Then she gasped.

   "What do you see?" asked Szordrin.

   "You are glowing, Szordrin!" said Ilthian.

   "He has a strong connection to the Weave," Solisar explained.

   "I want to try!" said Kytharrah.

   "Wand lessons are for those who finish their reading and writing lessons first," said Solisar.

   "I brought you a wand too," said Szordrin, and he handed the minotaur a stick to hold. The deception seemed to work well enough, as Kytharrah was now swinging the stick around in an attempt to emulate Ilthian's motions.

   "Now," said Solisar, "I want you to try to not look at Szordin but rather at the spaces between Szordrin and other things, such as the door or the jar of ink by your papers. What do you see? Try very hard to relax and concentrate."

   "I think I see a very, very faint thread connecting him to the jar."

   "See, Szordrin," said Solisar. "She is more than an automaton."

   "Look at the jar, Ilthian," said Szordrin. "Is it glowing like me?"

   "No, not at all."

   "Focus on the jar," the tiefling continued. "Try to reach out to it with your mind. Will it to glow in the same way that I am."

   "Little sister looks funny," said Kytharrah.

   Indeed, Ilthian had a strained expression on her face as she struggled to make an arcane connection with the jar of ink.

   "Do you see a glow now?" asked Solisar.

   "Maybe a little bit; it is very faint."

   "Remember how it feels in your mind. To perform magic, each spellcaster, like Szordrin and me, must make such a connection to the targets of our spells."

   "Try to concentrate on the connection itself," said Szordrin. "Focus now on the space between the glowing ink jar and you yourself."

   Ilthian grew excited. "I think I saw a new thread," she said, "but it flickered and then went out."

   "You are learning this remarkably quickly," said Solisar.

   "Say the word, 'jar'," said Szordrin.

   "Jar. Oh, it flickered back again."

   "The Weave connects everything," said Solisar, "every object, but also every sound and every thought and every concept. Simply speaking about a jar affects the connections of every jar in the area to the one thinking about a jar. In this way, even simple words can have power, once one learns the feel of how the Weave responds. This is why most spells involved 'magic' words."

   "Jar, jar, jar," said Kytharrah, waving his twig around.

   "Try to keep the thread visible," said Solisar.

   "Jar,... jar...," Ilthian stopped verbalizing the word but was still mouthing it with her lips. "Oh," she said, "I can also feel a sort of sensation in my fingertips...."

   "Try to will the thread to move," said Szordrin. "Watch the thread carefully to see how each word, thought, and motion you make affects the thread."

   "I think I understand,... if I move my fingers like this,... jar,... jar,... Jar, move!" she shouted the last two words as a bold command, and yanked her hand back. A tiny speck of ink splashed from the ink jar, as if the liquid had boiled over or the jar had been bumped by something.

   "Hurrah, Ilthian! You did it."

   There was a snapping sound. "Oops," said Kytharrah, "I broke mine."
Session: 92nd Game Session - Wednesday, Jul 19 2017 from 7:00 PM to 10:00 PM
Viewable by: Public
Tags: interlude
Pointer-left Investigator__male_2_thumb
Posted by the GM
De Exilio
Interlude: Kiira
~ seventh-day, 27th of Nightal, The Year of Wild Magic, evening
River Rauvin, southeast of Silverymoon

"What in the Nine are you wearing on your forehead?" Szordrin stared at Hakam as he joined the rest of the group. They were all standing around Solisar as he read from a scroll purchased from Xara Tantlor.

   "It does look silly," said Ilthian with a slight giggle.

   "It is a phylactery," said Hakam, as if everyone would understand.

   "Did you become a lich now?" asked Szordrin. "As if being a lawyer were not bad enough!"

   "He asked me to purchase one for him from the temple of the Triad," Leokas explained. "I do not know its purpose."

   "Did you buy me a head-box too?" asked Kytharrah, with a hopeful tone.

   "You already have a flying rock, big brother," said Ilthian. "That is much better than a phallic berry, whatever that is."

   Szordrin snorted to hold back his laugh. "Yes, much better," he said.

   Solisar also cracked a smile but managed to maintain his concentration.

   "Do not disturb him, Ilthian!" said Belvin. "It may ruin the spell."

   "Phylactery," Hakam repeated slowly, emphasizing the T. "Priests of various religions wear them as a visible sign of their faithfulness to their deity. This particular one is magical. It will ensure that no mistakes like the matter with the werewolves are made again."

   "Can I have a head-box?" asked Kytharrah again.

   "Solisar bought you an even better present," said Ilthian. "Remember, it is a silver color you can put on your axe, in case we fight any devils again."

   It had been nearly five minutes that Solisar had been reading the arcane words from the scroll. Then he set the scroll down on the deck and picked up a few tiny items that he had placed there ahead of time, all the while still repeating key magic words. He stuffed a wad of cotton in each of his pointed ears. Then he overlaid a piece of dark glass with a thin lead sheet. Holding these in his left hand, he began to walk slowly around near the walls of the vessel and sprinkled powdered, chrysolite from his right hand. The cursive characters on the scroll glowed as Solisar continued his preparatory walk. When he finished marking a powdered, green border on the first deck, he took the wooden stairs to the deck below and continued his task.

   When Solisar departed, Hakam clutched his holy symbol, calmed himself, and prepared to pray for the power to send a message to the Prince of Jhothûn.

   Solisar came back up the stairs, still casting, and then connected the trail of powder. He then held the sheet with the glass in front of him and completed the final words of power. For a quick instant, all around them, everywhere that Solisar had placed the powder, walls of iron and opaque glass appeared to their eyes and then faded from existence. The powder was gone, as were the lead sheet and glass in Solisar's hands and the cotton in his ears.

   "How do we know if it worked?" asked Leokas.

   "Come above deck and see," said Solisar.

   All of them, except for Hakam, who was now deep in prayer, climbed the stairs to stand below the starry night sky. Solisar pointed at the cargo grate. They knew that the deck below was lit by Kytharrah's everburning torch, but all they could see through the grate now was a black, foggy mass. Nor could they hear the sound of Hakam's praying.

   Satisfied that their plan to protect their new spelljammer from either magical scrying or mundane spying was working thus far, they went again below deck to wait for Hakam to finish his role in their plan.

   Suddenly, Hakam ceased speaking in Alzhedo and switched to Common. "Prince of Jhothûn, I wish that the effects of the spell of protection just now cast by Solisar upon this sailing vessel would last forever."

   "Did he respond?" asked Belvin.

   "We are protected," said Hakam. "Our second wish is granted. No one will be able to watch us anymore."


An hour later they were on their way due south through the sky, powered by magic drained from Leokas. No longer were they trying to follow landmarks from above; they simply wanted to reach the coast so that they could follow it south all the way to Calimshan, to Teshburl, where they had agreed to travel next. Solisar and Leokas had assured them that Silverymoon was well west of Calimshan, for the western edge of the continent of Faerûn was roughly diagonal, especially in the north.

   While Belvin remained above deck as a watch, the rest sat on the floor in a circle and discussed the things that Szordrin and Solisar had learned from their research in Silverymoon. Szordrin had found a document from the court of Tethyr by Count Gamalon Idogyr, a report to the queen about the Rock of Bral. Count Gamalon supposedly had lived on the Rock for many years. The report, which was only two years old, was a helpful overview of what they might expect when they were to visit the asteroid city.

   "Gamalon was the name of one of those two paladins who were briefly with us in Tethyr," said Szordrin, "but I do not think he was secretly a count. The last name sounds familiar though, but I cannot place it."

   "His surname was different," agreed Hakam, "but we do know an Idogyr. Oddly enough, that was the surname of Sir Gamalon's partner, Rhinda, the woman taken by the gnolls in Tethyr. Gamalon may simply be a common name in that country. I suppose that I could send a message to Rhinda to ask her how she is related to the count."

   "We have had no contact with her since her abduction," said Leokas. "While we know she was rescued by the king of Tethyr's people, we were told that she did not fare well from the ordeal."

   "What did you discover, Solisar?" asked Szordrin. "You were late meeting us on the Moonbridge. What took you so long?"

   "I was nearly overwhelmed by the wealth of information available to me in Everdusk Hall," replied the gold elf. "We — I tracked down the last known locations of each of eleven tel'kiira, the greater lore stones of Myth Drannor. I sought this information out because of the evidence that Szordrin and I found, during our time in Thultanthar, that Samber had been reading in the library there about their creation."

   "What is a tel'kiira?" asked Ilthian. She was now able to sit with the others during such discussions, since their new magical sanctum protected them from magical eavesdropping. "And what is Myth Drannor?"

   "Myth Drannor was once a beautiful elven city in the forest of Cormanthor, which is now part of the Dalelands east of Anauroch," Solisar explained. "While an elven city, it was known as the City of Love and the City of Song, a place where all races were welcome, where dwarves and elves and humans alike all lived in harmony. It fell nearly 700 years ago to an army of yugoloths in the Year of Doom. Silverymoon is the closest place left to it on Toril, and indeed, many refugees from Myth Drannor settled in what would become Silverymoon. As for Myth Drannor, it remains a haunt of evil to this day."

   "Yugoloths?" asked Ilthian.

   "Fiends, purely evil creatures from the Blood Rift," said Solisar. "They are akin to the devils, such as Tosvin, or to the demons, which, thankfully, we have not encountered in our times together."

   "But the tel'kiira?" asked Hakam.

   "Yes, the tel'kiira were the greatest of the kiira. A kiira is a tiny gemstone that one can magically affix to one's forehead. Depending on the particular kind of kiira, this grants the wearer powers of memory enhancement. For example, a lesser kiira can store a number of images that one sees for later recollection. They are popular among mages as an alternative to recording spells into spellbooks. Using a kiira is like seeing a perfect, realistic drawing — in color — of a past thing seen, as clearly as if one was seeing it again with his or her own eyes."

   "Is not that how all memories are?" asked Ilthian.

   "No," said Szordrin. "Is that how your memory works?"

   Ilthian nodded.

   "Fascinating," said Solisar. "I am not surprised, Ilthian, considering your superb aptitude for learning, but no, most of us remember things as a blurry representation of what we saw clearly with our eyes."

   "But the tel'kiira?" asked Hakam again. "How are they different from these so-called 'lesser' kiira that you describe?"

   "The tel'kiira are greater kiira, or true kiira, if you are an elf, for they go beyond just the storing of a limited number of memories and allow one to store nearly all of the memories of one's entire lifetime! Such high magic was created by the elves, and only an elf could ever wear a true kiira. The combined memories of thousands of years would overwhelm other races. The tel'kiira were passed down from generation to generation among the elves of the noble Elven Houses. They were a sign of status, but more than that, they were a means of great power, for each noble wore on his or her forehead a means of accessing the memories and knowledge of all of his or her ancestors!

   "Consider what this means," Solisar continued. "In many ways, an individual like you or I is the sum of all of his or her memories. For this reason, some claimed that kiira were indeed the stored souls of their wearers. Some said that the kiira were even partially sentient, that the dead elven nobles lived on in the tel'kiira and could sway the current wearer to their combined wills. So you see, while immensely powerful items, they were also very dangerous. Only the most powerful of mind could hope to wear such a gemstone without being driven insane or rendered mindless by the overwhelming knowledge."

   "Are you thinking that Samber was seeking a way of cheating death, by storing his mind in such a stone?" Szordrin asked.

   "Indeed, that was my thought," said Solisar. "However, Samber is not an elf; he must know that he could never wear a true kiira. More likely, he hopes to make something similar to a kiira. Other non-elves have tried such things and failed. One famous tale tells of a half-elven wizard named Vhyridaan, who tried to teach himself high elven magic and to create a kiira. He was absorbed into the stone both mind and body, the legends say. The result was a sort of intelligent ioun stone, which played into other tales about the fall of Myth Drannor.

   "I think that Samber is wise enough to know of the cost of such failures," continued Solisar. "I discovered, however, a kind of kiira more powerful than a lesser kiira but not as powerful as a greater kiira. These are the kiira N'Vaelahr. The N'Vaelahr were the Shadow Soldiers, the secret service of the army of Myth Drannor. The kiira worn by the N'Vaelahr — and there were only two dozen in number made, according to the histories — also allowed for mental communication. Moreover, it is rumored that the powerful human wizard Khelben Arunsun of Waterdeep has one of the stones or something very similar to it, yet he lives — and in his right mind. Granted, he is also said to be one of the Chosen of your goddess of magic, but it shows that it might be possible for other races to wear at least something very similar to a kiira, if not an actual kiira, after all. If Samber were to find one of these 24 lore stones, he might be able to adapt it to his purposes. Thankfully for us, few ever succeed in entering Myth Drannor and escaping with their lives — the place still swarms with fiends and undead."

   "And we know that he is imprisoned for the time being," said Leokas.

   "While this knowledge is intriguing," said Hakam, "I do not think it changes our course of action. We have no reason to visit Myth Drannor ourselves: Samber is not free, as Leokas noted, and we still have leads to follow in Teshburl, Lantan, and the Rock of Bral."

   There was a loud crash from elsewhere in the ship. "Someone better check on the lunk," said Szordrin. "We probably left him alone for too long."
Session: 92nd Game Session - Wednesday, Jul 19 2017 from 7:00 PM to 10:00 PM
Viewable by: Public
← Previous 1 3 4 5 6 7 8