Characters
- Chiron – Magic-user 1 – Come to expand his knowledge.
- Jassan Al` Nadir – Cleric 1 – A Dervish gentleman posing as a trader, known for dark whispers.
- Vahan – Fighter 1 – Deep voiced and broad shouldered.
- Maximus – Paladin 1 – Oath, “I dedicate myself and my actions to Phoebus. No matter the cost, I will fight for a world guided by law that is free of corruption.”
Retainers
- Aegon – man at arms – Vahans squire.
The PCs slept in the stables of Lord Blanbot. They’d made an agreement with him; They’d bring him the dragon slaying sword, and he would go south and slay the dragon. The PCs would need to quest for him. The opportunity to slay the dragon was unique, in that it might help him solidify his rulership in this hex.
Some players couldn’t attend the game, so their characters stayed behind in the villa.
The remaining PCs headed off North to where they’d left the sword in a small woodland brook.
After a few hours of walking they approached the woodland. Only yesterday had they been captured here, the hoof marks still marking the territory. Up ahead at the brook, around 100 yards away, the players noticed a gaggle of small blue women sitting on the brooks bank. The PCs counted them, twenty eight in total. How were they going to get around this?
These women were observed for some time, they were around three foot tall, blue, with long green hair. They giggled and jested in a language foreign to the PCs.
Brave Vahan approached the tiny women, whilst the others snuck up on them through the trees. Vahan put up his hands, approaching peacefully. The women giggled and began chanting a strange song to him. Sparks of magic erupted. Vahan was overcome with feelings of dedication.
“Mistresses! How I adore thee.” He said.
The tiny women giggled at him.
“Come forth and remove your armour, we wish to see you.”
Vahan excitedly rushed to the waters removing his hide armour.
Chiron had begun chanting eldritch words of his own by this point. Jassan rushed up to the waters edge and collected the sword, still wrapped and where he’d left it. Maximus ran forward to help his comrade, plugging his ears with his ripped shirt.
All this was happening very fast, when the remaining creatures saw men approaching, they failed their morale and fled into the water of the stream. Ten remained, surrounding Vahan who was eagerly pulling off his clothes.
Chiron cast his spell and all ten remaining blue women fell to the ground snoozing.
“Don’t hurt them!” Vahan cried. Kicking Chiron in the chest. The whole party overpowered him and tied him up. They dragged their friend all the way back to Blanbot’s villa, screaming how he needed to go back to his blue angels.
At the villa they handed over the sword to the Lord. Blanket and his men were ready to journey to the Harrow Hills for a spot of dragon slaying. He gave them a quest to travel North East, to the abandoned elven temple of Omiron, where a strange new cult was growing. The party had encountered some of these cultists before; all white robe wearing, long hair sporting, free-love toting, hippies.
“We’d be happy to check them out. No-one likes hippies moving into the area.”
After a nights rest the party set off.
Their walk saw them enter a new 24 mile hex. That meant some xp, nice. They saw a deep grassy valley and a large lake with a town on its shore. To the South was a large spire like citadel. It was arrow-head shaped, thin and very tall. It was emerald green.
The party went to the town for a nights sleep. They spoke to the bar keep of the Blubbering Whale, a man named Nix. They gathered rumours about the Temple of Omiron, far to the north east. They learned the large spire was a citadel of the elves. These elves hadn’t been heard from for generations. One day the elves just stopped all interactions with the outside world, a shame too because their brandy wine was apparently amazing.
The next day the party set off to the green citadel of the elves. Some things are just too tempting.
The spire was about one hundred feet tall, but only around thirty feet deep. It was made of some sort of metal, enamelled with green paint, which was very faded and chipped. There was a balcony holding a pair of bronze double doors thirty foot up.
A grappling hook was loosed and they climbed up. Vahan and Maximus bust in the stuck doors. Inside there was a sixty foot long corridor; checker tiled floors, fine wallpaper, and along the walls were over one hundred sets of fine leather armour, helmets and spears. There were green tabards with a golden oak leaf heraldry at each weapon station. The corridor was longer than it should have been, the building was only thirty foot deep.
“Proceed carefully, do not touch anything.”
They moved down the corridor, lit by two large censers framing the door ahead. The doors slammed behind them ominously.
They reached the doors at the far end and pushed them inwards. Inside was a set of dank cellar steps. They went down very carefully. Below was another long room, it was vaulted and looked like it was underground, there were alcoves and the area was lit by candle chandeliers.
There were eleven alcoves, each one contained a burial altar with a elf atop it. These elves were pure white, with sunken features, and skin like bark. Each one wore a glittering crown, and was covered with a thin shroud.
The party talked for a while about what to do. It was decided that they would grab crowns and rush out. To maximise their profits they all stood next to one body, in the alcoves closest to the door. They would grab the crowns through the shrouds, then flee. They figured the bodies of these elves would rise up and attack.
This was a cunning trap, but not like they’d imagined.
“Now!” Came the call. They grabbed the crowns simultaneously. However, as they touched the shrouds, the material fluttered and animated! These shrouds wrapped tightly around the closest throat, attempting to squeeze the life from the grave robber. The only character that didn’t get hit was Aegon. All the others were now being choked!
After a very tense few rounds they’d managed to free themselves. The magic-user Chiron was severely wounded however. Maximus managed to stabilise him with lay on hands. They collected the liberated crowns, putting them in a sack. Time to leave.
They opened the door they’d entered from, but the room had changed. Now the room was a large circular chamber, a green fire lit the room from a pit in its centre. There was another set of bronze doors ahead, and lining the walls were four portals.
Beyond the portals were different areas.
- A vast dusty tundra lined with craters. The sky was like night, no clouds. A blue and green planet hanging on the horizon.
- A long corridor made from thorns and thicket.
- A brick hallway lined with cobwebs.
- A golden staircase below a vast ocean.
The party were a little flummoxed to say the least. How would they get out? They took a rest and thought it through, giving enough time for Chiron to regain consciousness.
They would try the bronze doors again, surely if they tried enough times it would lead back to the entrance hallway.
Maximus tied a rope around his waste and opened the doors. Inside was a fine bathhouse. Bubbles and fragrant perfumes sprinkled the air. In the central pool, lined by great marble columns, were nine naked elf maidens.
“Oh, a visitor. How lovely, it has been far too long. Come warrior, come and make merry.”
“Nothing compared to my blue queens.” Quipped Vahan.
Maximus walked in, noticing not only the voluptuous beauty of the maidens, but also their queer yellow eyes. The doors began to shut behind him as the women cackled. He dashed back, only just making it inside.
“Lets not separate.” It was decided.
The next time they tried the doors there was a great treasure room with thousands of gold coins, and gold statues. In the north and south there were two great iron golems. Nope. The doors were closed.
They tried the door again. This time they saw a great wooden hall, emerald banners with oak leaf heraldry. There was strange music from some type of horn. Over thirty elves were dancing, a band atop a plinth, and high over all of them was a throne. Sat on the throne was a disinterested elf wearing chainmail and a large crown.
The music ceased. The elves all turned to look at the interlopers. From the stage a horn blower made a few toots and cried, “Visitors to the court of King Lazziar, make thyselves known.”
The party stood dumfounded, saying nothing.
“Your names travellers!” Cried the herald.
Still no response.
“I ask you your names a thrice, there shant be a fourth!” That made them give their names.
The kingly elf waved a hand laden with gold.
“Good good. I grow weary of this waltz. It would be good to see another dance. Take your stations strangers.” He pointed to the dance floor and the elves parted.
The party was panicked at this point. Vahan tried to close the bronze door, but found it stuck open. This caused the king to chuckle.
“Oh a chase, a merry chase! Excellent. It h
as been a while since we hunted.” Said the King.
The party began to flee back through the portal room. Looking over their shoulder they saw the king take flight from his throne, his emerald cape flapping behind him. Dangling from his belt was a sword and a wand. The band began to pipe a hunting song.
Lets see what happens next session, in the Emerald Citadel of King Lazziar.
Also posted at Dragonsfoot
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