Campaign: Dominion of Adventure 08/09/22

The party were gathered in the main square, bloodied and exhausted they slumped together in small groups idly watching the townsfolk creep from whatever shelter they’d hidden in and slowly start restoring their home. A low rumble reached them on the wind, Iivan and Gunnar jerked their heads up in search of the source of the approaching noise

“We’ve got company” muttered Iivan

“Horses, lots of horses” agreed Gunnar hauling himself to his feet to face whatever fresh hell was drawing nearer

Grumbling the others slowly picked themselves up and watched as a column of legionaires marched into the square, the column split and the soilders spread out across the square before turning and enveloping the party in a wall of steel. Following the footsoldiers were horseman and they formed a second ring.

“Err hey guys – you’re a bit late” called out Fayd to the nearest of the grim faced troopers, but was ignored by the stoic warriors.

Iivan searched the formation looking for any gaps he might be able to escape through if things turned nasty but saw none, instead he began walking the inner ring – complimenting some of the men on the shininess of their armour and cajoling others to stand up straighter, covering his nerves with this display of mocking bravado.

One of the mounted men, wearing more ornate and flamoyant armour pressed his mount through a file of troopers and approached the others

“Who are you people?” he demanded

Looking around at the others Gunnar slowly raised a hand in greeting

“Uhh, I’m Gunnar Orcsson” replied Gunnar hesitantly “lately of Yocan” he continued, unsure if these soldiers had any links to the one Tianzi had goaded weeks ago.

Raising a mailed fist to his helm the mounted figure pushed back his visor and stared at the gore splattered half orc and his companions

“What the hell happened here?”

Gunnar gazed around the smouldering town square, noting the piles of dead and the hulking figures of the decaying Ogres and Giant, surely this military man couldn’t have missed such obvious signs of battle?

“Err, there was a zombie horde attacking the town?” answered the barbarian increduosly

“and what’s your name horse boy?” called out Fayd, prompting an angry murmour from the serried ranks of men arrayed around them

“HOLD!” bellowed the horseman to quiet his men before turning back to the two half orcs “I am Lord Farris, commander of the 8th Legion” He looked around at the destruction littering the square “Was this all you?”

Grinning the pair barbarians nodded and explained how they’d recieved word of an attack and come to the town’s aid, Iivan made sure to stay behind one of his larger companions lest any sharp eyed soldier wonder at the bulge under his tunic. A knot of troops pushed forward into the clearing, revealing the familar figures of Luther and Balasar – the young bard demanding to see Father Lucius while his draconic companion kept his own counsel.

“How did you get here from Yocan so quickly?” asked the puzzled Lord Farris

“We rode” interjected Iivan, glaring at his companions meaningfully

“Where are your horses?” pressed Farris clearly dubious

“The zombies ate them” answered the Drow seamlessly

“That at least is true” added Navarro “that dead giant had a taste for horseflesh” the paladin continued.

“Well, then I commend your bravery Sir Knight, and that of your….less honourable companions” said Farris, still sceptical but willing to concede the point given the noble paladin’s confirmation. “My men will secure the town and take care of any remaining undead, please remain here – I suspect I and Father Lucius will want to speak to you again before you leave”

“Are we prisoners?” asked Iivan eyeing up likely looking rooftops

“No, not at all – consider yourself honoured guests and enjoy a well earned rest” replied Farris before turning to his men and issuing commands that broke up the formation and send groups of armed troops out into the town to help the survivors. As Farris rode out of the square they saw him gaze at the giant’s corpse and the small figures arrayed around the wreckage of the monolith before shaking his head and turning away again. Luther and Balasar recounted their time in Yocan helping deal with the aftermath of the attack by the followers of Tal, and pressed for more detail of the battle they’d missed. The young half elf grew bored of the talk of martial prowess and derring do and went to investigate the closet tavern, though having missed the fight he missed the significance of it’s name that had the others laughing at Iivan. Entering the Assassin’s Chase he encountered the owner, a middle aged human named Tim.

“Do you need any help in here?” asked Luther

“Help? Bless me no sir – you and those adventurers out there have helped us already – here let me find you some refreshments” and with that he bustled off behind the bar. Luther began to right the jumbled mess of tables and chairs in the tavern’s common room as the others drifted in and began to make themselves comfortable – Luther sighed, only the half orcs could be thinking about their stomachs with piles of mangled corspes clogging the streeets.

The landlord returned with a tray of glasses and two dusty bottles, opening one carefully he poured a generous measure of golden liquid reverentially into the glasses and passed them out to the party. Luther saw his companions bring their glasses to their noses and saw surprise and delight on the face of Iivan and Navarro.

“That’s better than your fancy coffee” declared Gunnar after finishing his glass and nodding with approval as the hovering proprietor offered to refil his glass.

“That is good” agreed Iivan sipping at the liquor with evident surprise and relish “where are the rest of your people?” he inquired

The landlord’s face darkened “the bastard zombies ate my daughter” he replied, thankfully not catching Iivan’s unthinking quipped reply though some of the others did and a stunned silence dragged on.

Cutting into the britle silence Luther asked how the man had survived the attack, learning that he and some of his patrons had locked themsevlves in the inn’s cellar and fortified their courage with some of his wares until they heard the crash of the giant falling and crept out to investigate. Slowly some of the townsfolk began to fill the common room, the mood was sombre but many of the locals came to thank the party and Grimm and Fayd saw many tearful and heartfelt reunion. Gunnar, having sated his hunger and enjoyed more of the local brews propped his feet on a bench and was soon snoring loudly. Fayd was curled up in the deepset window enjoying the feel of the sun on his skin, he slid into dreams of flame and branding… the feeling of being hunted permeated all of it, he whimpered in his sleep and Luther reached out to calm him before slipping past him and unslinging his lute. Luther began to move slowly amongst the locals, his fingers picking a lilting melody from his instument as he exchanged words with groups of the survivors. Navarro watched him and smiled to himself, pleased to see his squire was beginning to take his duty of care for the commoners more seriously now before he too settled down to rest.

Rested and for the most part recovered they were enjoying the landlord’s continued hospitality when a troop of armoured figures entered the inn, they immediately recognised Father Lucius at the head of a phalanx of the church’s warriors led by Lady Drake – who ignored Gunnar’s wave of greeting and arranged her men to guard against any threat.

“Well gentleman” began Father Lucius sternly “I have just spent a great deal of my limited and valuable time listening to Lord Farris shower you all with praise for defeating this incursion of undead.” a fleeting smile passed across his face before he continued “I must admit, you have exceeded my expectations as well – I hadn’t expected a group of ne’er-do-wells, not you Sir Navarro, nor you Dorian of course but the rest of you…I’m pleased and impressed with you all”

“Impressed enough to pay us?” inquired Gunnar with all his usual subtlety and tact before anyone could quieten him

“Yes, I believe I had already said you would recieve payment for aiding me and the church, here” he slung a tied leather pouch onto the table where it thudded with the heavy chink of gold “that’s a thousand gold pieces for your troubles” Gunnar began to scowl, but Lucius took a second pouch from his belt and slid it across the table “and there’s another five thousand in cut gem stones, you should find it easier to carry if nothing else. That’s for the work you’ve already done for our cause, now – do you have it?”

Iivan tore his eyes away from the gems peeking out of the second pouch long enough to eye the senior churchman “have what?” he replied.

Father Lucius sighed “The stone, Iivan – I mean the stone for which you were searching”

“It’s safe” the drow grinned “I can promise you that” he added glancing at his companions to see if they appreciated his wit, but was as usual dissappointed to realise they seemed oblivious to his wordplay.

Father Lucius turned away from the rogue and faced Navarro “Sir Navarro, as a man of honour I would ask that you explain what has befallen you since we last spoke”

Preening visibly at the compliment Navarro went on to explain how, under his inspired leadership-

“It was under MY leadership!” interjected Hamlet indignantly

“You led them well in my absence Deputy, but am back in command now” chided Navarro, earning a baleful stare from Luther before the paladin went on to explain how they had travelled to the frozen resting place of the promise and recovered it as they had sworn to do. On returning to find Yocan had been attacked by Tal cultists they’d recieved word of the attack on Zacal and made all haste to its aid – arriving in time to fend off the undead and save the town. Father Lucius nodded thoughtfully

“Thank you Sir knight….. now, can someone explain to me what the fuck happened to the monolith out there?” he waved his hand in the direction of the town square

“The zombies destroyed it!” answered Gunnar and Fayd in unison, just as Iivan stated it had been the criminal Starling who had blown it up in the fight. They glared at each other for a moment before Lucius cleared his throat

“Sir Navarro, perhaps you could explain it for me?”

“Why of course Father, we were attacked by the undead and my scout here is right that we were attacked by the Starling woman during the fight but I fear the damage to the monolith was from the Promise hitting it” explained the holy warrior

“It hit the monolith? Destroying it? How did that happen pray tell?” asked Lucius raising an eyebrow, as one the party all pointed at Iivan and offered up a number of variations of the theme of “his fault”

“I was saving their lives!” protested the beleagured drow “it worked too, you should be thanking me!” he added glaring at his companions before downing his tankard and reaching for another.

The priest waited for the squabbling to die down before continuing “Well, what’s done is done – but you should know I’ve heard reports that other monoliths are beginning to show signs that they’re powering up. I fear you might have triggered something here that will have repurcussions across the continent…and maybe further afield than that if the legends are true” he mused half to himself “Still, you’re alive and have done Helm’s work – my thanks, and I urge you to seek out the other stones quickly – now, I have matters that require my attention – good day….gentleman” he nodded to the assembled group “I understand Lord Farris is arranging transport for you back to Yocan in the morning, enjoy your victory” then left, followed by the taciturn Lady Drake and her troop. The party remained in the tavern, eventually taking the innkeeper up on his offer of a bed and retiring to sleep so they could make an early start in the morning.

The following morning over a surprisingly hearty breakfast they gathered to fill their bellies before heading back to Yocan, last to the table was Balasar – the laconic dragonborn even less garrolous than usual.

“You need some coffee my friend” commented Navarro handing the scorcerer a cup of his precious stash.

Balasar took it gratefully and downed a long swig, his draconic ancestry making a mockery of the liquid’s scalding temprature.

“I had the dream again last night” he confided to the others “the dragon warned me a knight has found the Pledge in a place called the Valley of the Dead” he continued

“Well of coooourse it’d be in the valley of the fucking dead wouldn’t it?” muttered Iivan groaning

“Who is this knight you speak of?” asked Navarro, his sudden interest and focus clear to see

“I don’t know his name” admitted Balasar

“Well, what did he look like then?” demanded the paladin hotly

“It was all so confusing, I think he was fat and bald” answered Balasar hesitantly

“Ahh, then it was not my Master for he is neither of those things” said Navarro turning his attention back to his plate.

“..or maybe he wasn’t – I don’t really know, all you humans look the same to me” grumbled Balasar grimly

“Hey!” piped up Grimm around a mouthful of bread and meat staring in shock at the gold scaled dragon man before him, Fayd and Gunnar exchanged knowing looks and grinned happy enough to see someone other than the “halfies” getting it for once.

“Did you learn anything else? Where we might find this Valley?” cut in Luther quickly but Balasar shook his head mutely

“I got the impression it was somewhere in the South” he ventured “but beyond that?” he shrugged and returned to his food. The others finished their meal and bade goodbye to the locals they had met before boarding the coach Lord Farris had promised. Seeing the interior of the coach rapidly filling Luther sprang lightly up to the roof, followed soon after by Gunnar who had no interest in squashing his hulking frame in with the others in the cabin. The journey back to Yocan was uneventful and they all took the opportunity to rest and recover, as they travelled through the countryside though they couldn’t help notice a much stronger Legion presence on the roads and encamped in well made forts near the road. A stark reminder of the dangers the undead posed to the continent and the seriousness with which the Sword Lords and Legion were taking it.

Rolling into Yocan they could see the devestation wrought upon the town in the Tal Cultist’s attack despite the efforts of the locals, and as he was at pains to point out to anyone that would listen, Luther. Gunnar, couldn’t help notice that Billy’s pub seemed to have been left relatively undisturbed by the cultists – whether simply because of the ogre’s fearsome martial prowess or something more sinister he couldn’t tell, but knowing that eventually Billy was a problem that would need to be dealt with he couldn’t help but wonder what allies the crimelord might be able to call upon in future. Arriving in the main square the party split up to stock up on supplies and gather information on the mysterious valley of the dead Balasar had dreamt of before they tried to reach the City of Libraries via the Nearith Transport Network. Gunnar and Iivan paid a visit to Silwind to discuss a job he’d offered them should they visit the City, they recived a letter of introduction and details of the client, one Lord Lohurtz who resided in the City of Libraries – during the meeting Gunnar missed a subtle exchange between the Obsidian Order operative and Iivan, the Drow keeping whatever he’d learnt to himself as usual. Meanwhile Fayd asked Copperpot about the City of the Dead but wasn’t able to learn anything more to aid them, so reuniting after gathering more potions and equipment they powered up the monolith and began to travel, arriving at the City of Libraries after a number of teleports, Iivan expanding his knowledge of the Network to report back to Silwind at a later date.