Session 1/26/08

 

 

                After taking stock of their reserves the companions find themselves in need of rest.  Altaer uses a new spell – rope trick – to conjure and extradimensional resting place in one of the raised alcoves where the wyverns perched, but for some reason the “window” into the shelter is made visible!  Altaer and Ayo surmise that some sort of permanent invisibility purge might be in effect here.  Since their enemies will be able to see them easily if they rest within the Fane, the adventurers retreat to the outer cliffs, summon their giant owls, and fly back to the Bloodflayers’ camp for another evening of rest.  Gril’daun serves them a delicious and filling meal of smoked, barbequed pork ribs from wild mountain boars.

 

 

                Nerida 3: In the morning, the skies have darkened and a terrible maelstrom of multicolored storm clouds has gathered around the Fane.  As the heroes streak into the cliffside dragons’ den to perch their owls and disembark, red, blue and green bolts of lightning arc angrily across the sky in wild horizontal patterns.  Azarr Kul’s ritual to open a permanent gate to the Hells, the Abyss, or both is coming to its inevitable conclusion.

 

 

                The party quickly and efficiently infiltrates the Fane of Tiamat’s upper levels, noting no significant changes in the layout of the place since the previous day’s battle.  The upper floor has been abandoned by Azarr Kul’s forces, and the party is able to penetrate past the Great Temple of Tiamat on the lower level and pass through the secret door used by the blackspawn raiders.  Following a bending 10’ wid corridor northeastward, they come to a wide opening which reveals a sparkling, natural amethyst cavern with four successive tiers of short 5’ high cliff faces heading upwards.  Beyond the highest cliff face at a 20’ elevation lies a wider opening and a worked corridor to the north.  The beautiful cavern is cold and windy, and a deep pit lies east to the party’s left as they enter.  Large purple crystals – amethyst deposits – twinkle softly in the light from the lantern on Ayo’s spear point. 

 

Suddenly the still cavern erupts with activity as three cunningly hidden greenspawn razorfiends leap to the attack!  Kaelin ducks and dodges the wingblades of the first razorfiend, and after trading several blows with the creature she finds a weak point in its ribcage and pierces its heart with her keen blade.  After Klar and Altaer soften up the second greenspaw, Jack takes a mighty swing and decapitates it, sending its head rolling across the cavern floor as its body flops to the ground lifelessly.  The third razorfiend cuts into Klar and leaps away, bounding up the short cliffs and down the northern corridor, grunting and hissing a warning in draconic to the guardians in the complex beyond.

 

 

The five heroes follow the razorfiend in a mad scramble, with Klar leading the way.  As the raging half-orc peers down the northern corridor, he sees a circular room containing a peculiar altar with the now-familiar five heads of Tiamat.  Five colored spheres of pulsating light dance around the altar, their purpose unknown.  Around the altar, five Doom Hand hobgoblin clerics chant a draconic hymn to their dark goddess, and two heavily armored hobgoblin warpriests standing guard near the altar crack their knuckles with the anticipation of battle.  Klar holds up until Kaelin and Jack can reach him to form a battle wedge, whereupon the three charge into the hobgoblins’ ranks.  Ayo takes cover near the east wall of the wide corridor, staying just at the edge of the amethyst cavern.  One of the warpriests catches her eye and smiles, but she cannot determine the meaning of the goblinoid’s smirk. 

 

 

Kaelin wades past the greenspawn razorfiend and right into the midst of the Doom Hand clerics, setting about with her flashing longsword.  Howling wildly, brandishing and spinning his double-axe, Klar engages one of the warpriests in melee, while Jack heads towards the other with his scythe pulsing, ready to deal out eldritch mayhem and bloody punishment.  Altaer stands in the rear next to Ayo, raining down the fury of his dragon magic upon all his foes.  The battle seems well in hand when a terrible wailing sound announces the entrance of four new combatants: a quartet of wraiths hiding in the wall near Ayotunde!  The wraiths are spirits of the party’s fallen foes, conscripted into undeath by the terrible power of Azarr Kul: they are the Wyrmlords Koth, Saarvith and Ulwai, as well as the blackspawn assassin called Skather whom the party defeated at the Siege of Brindol.  Attacking with a horrible fury, the wraiths reach into Ayo and pull out her vital essence, draining her almost to the point of collapse.  She desperately channels the divine energy of Shandae, dealing grievous damage to the wraiths, but not one of the four dissipates.  Altaer, also threatened enough by the wraiths to feel their chill, looses a lightning bolt down the corridor.  The bolt catches Ulwai’s wraith full in the face, forcibly discorporating her, and it also fells the last of the greenspawn razorfiends, who until that point was still battling visciously in support of its hobgoblin masters. 

 

 

The party’s two frontline warriors are too far down the corridor to assist their friends Ayo and Altaer, so they fight on against the hobgoblins.  The wild melee disrupts whatever ceremony the Doom Hand clerics were involved in, and they move to support their warpriests with healing magic.  The tactic only delays their deaths by a few seconds, as Klar slices deeply into the chest of a Doom Hand cleric, finishing him off and cleaving through to behead another hobgoblin.  Jack, halfway down the corridor between the other pairs of friends, has just enough range to aim an eldritch blast at the wraith of Wyrmlord Saarvith.  His aim is true, and the blast ends the cackling Saarvith’s unlife.  Two wraiths – those of Skather and Koth – remain to threaten Ayo, but she fends them off long enough to channel another turning attempt.  This time, the green radiant energy of Shandae envelops the wraiths, leaving behind nothing but a few wisps of green vapor that dissipate into flitting butterly shapes.  Severely weakened by the wraiths, Ayo drops to her knees, but Altaer is there with his rod of bodily restoration to see to her recovery.  Fully restored, she nods and favors a warm glance towards Altaer.  The two move down the corridor to rejoin their allies just as Jack cuts off the head of a snarling warpriest.  Kaelin and Klar combine to rout and slay the last two Doom Hand clerics, and the last remaining warpriest is burned to death by Altaer’s fiery burst.

 

 

Looking up, the five heroes see a 20’ wide stone shaft leading upwards.  As they listen from below, they can clearly hear a deep, strong voice chanting a steady, confident prayer to Tiamat echoing down from above.  As the companions heal themselves and prepare for their ascent, they share meaningful looks and consider their fates, for there is no doubt that Azarr Kul himself lies in the chamber up beyond the well, and that the hour of their long awaited confrontation has arrived.

The party pauses in the lower worship chamber to cast a few battle enchantments (including fly spells from potions and scrolls, and enlarge person spells on Klar and Kaelin) and to catch its collective breath.  Due to resource and time limitations – the hour of the ritual’s completion is drawing nigh – Ayotunde and Altaer are left without the benefit of fly spells.  The best plan, it is determined, is to have Klar, Jack and Kaelin flying up the shaft with both Klar and Kaelin enlarged.  Klar will carry Altaer in his arms and Kaelin will carry Ayo.  Jack remains medium-sized for better mobility and versatility, and will be the group’s primary defender for now, until Kaelin can deposit Ayo safely on the ground above.

 

Just after their preparations are complete, a secret panel they failed to spot on the west wall opens and two beautiful feather-winged erinyes devils stand before them, chanting infernal prayers.  The red clad, redheaded erinyes laughs haughtily as her unholy blight rains down a greasy black miasma of energy on the heroes.  “Oh, look Franchesca!  The little ones have come to play… let us teach them of fear and pain at the hands of Tiamat’s servants.”  The other, clad in green silks with dark brown hair, laughs in return.  In a peculiar lilting accent, she replies: “Oh yes, Lucia!  We cannot allow our master’s ceremony above to be disrupted by this rabble.  We shall flay the flesh from their bones in short order, my dear.”  Another harsh blast of corrupted, unholy energy envelops the group, and the two erinyes smirk with arrogant pleasure.

 

 

As Lucia and Franchesca attack from the west, four more of the annoyingly persistent blue abishai swoop down from the cylindrical shaft above.  Klar and Jack each wound the she-devils, with Altaer and an enlarged Kaelin following up with spell and blade.  Though both erinyes are weakened by the party’s counterattack, they toss their heads back in laughter and teleport away, presumably up to Azarr Kul’s sanctum above.  The heroes take flight up the shaft and a chaotic, twisting melee erupts as the abishai dive down to harass them.  Jack’s dark, gleaming scythe sings as he decapitates one of the shrieking blue menaces as it dives past him.  The abishai’s severed head richochets off the walls of the well and falls to the ground next to its body with a sickening splat. 

 

The other three abishai harass the party as they make their way up the well.  Altaer seems to be their favorite target, given that the sorcerer is somewhat helpless to dodge their electrified tail attacks in Klar’s arms.  The 100’ tall shaft opens up into an egg-shaped stone chamber adorned with a series of five dragon statues on a high balcony, each representing one of the five chromatic dragons.  A massive 10’ long, 5’ wide altar of meteoric stone serves as the focal point of Azarr Kul’s ritual.  Upon the altar, shadowed by a carvin of the Dragon Queen’s likeness, is the Tome of Slaughtergarde.  Five streams of rippling, liquid energy flow upward into the ceiling of the “egg,” forming an ever-growing pool of mercurial light that occasionally flashes with scenes of abyssal and infernal landscapes.  This can only be Azarr Kul’s dual gates to Avernus, the first layer of the Hells, and the Mountains of Sorrow Beyond Measure in the Abyss.  Somehow, Azarr Kul is using Mu-Tahn-Laa’s ancient text to empower his summoning, and soon he will draw down an army of combined demonic and devilish power to destroy the Vale and the lands beyond.

 

 

Lucia and Franchesca fire flaming arrows down the shaft at the encroaching heroes, but the swirling midair melee below causes most of the arrows to miss.  “Oh, no darlings!  We don’t love you so much now.  Why not stay still and take your punishments like good little boys and girls?”  Klar suddenly emerges from the top of the well, drops the wounded Altaer to the ground (the sorcerer rolls to his feet nimbly) and slams into Franchesca with his double-axe, roaring in rage as he charges up and cuts her with a two-handed stroke.  Shrieking in pain, the she-devil attempts to fly away to safetyl, but another angry slice from Klar finishes her off.  With a cry of shock and surprise, she falls to the ground in two pieces, leaving Klar howling in triumph. 

 

The half orc turns toward the sound of the ceaseless draconic chanting, which abruptly ceases.  As Kaelin and Jack reach the top, Kaelin sets Ayo down on the floor about 20 feet from Tiamat’s altar.  At that moment, the five companions collectively turn their gazes to the foe who has orchestrated the return of Slaughtergarde’s gates and the siege of the Elsir Vale: the half-dragon hobgoblin cleric, Azarr Kul.  Standing over 10’ tall, but with surprisingly lithe reptilian body, the blue-scaled Talon of Tiamat gazes back unafraid.  Electricity crackles along Azar Kul’s scales as he speaks, his voice growing louder and more resonant.  “Yes, now it shall be as was foretold.  You who have impeded my ambition shall now see it as it ripens into fullness.  This is a right and good destiny for all of us, to be witnessed in battle by the gods and all the powers of this world and others!  Let battle be joined!”  The High Wyrmlord is clad in golden dragonscale armor and wields a massive bastard sword and dragonskull shield.  His blue wings sweep back powerfully from his broad back, keeping him aloft with good maneuverability.  Jack’s arcane sight confirms that he is enchanted with a number of powerful wards and enhancements, powered by his infernal dragon goddess Tiamat.  One of these must be some form of enlargement magic, because like Klar and Kaelin, Azarr Kul has nearly doubled in size from medium to large.

 

 

With the forces of light and darkness aligned and ready, the final battle begins in earnest.  Lucia retreats up to the western balcony, firing arrows ineffectually at Klar as she flees his fury.  Azarr Kul swings at Klar as he flies by, wetting his blade with the half-orc’s blood.  A shock of electricity accompanies the cut, setting Klar’s hair on end.  The three abishai bob and weave around Ayo and Altaer, attempting to disrupt their spellcasting.  Ayo begins a healing prayer, but although her mouth moves, no sound issues forth.  She realizes with mounting horror that the room is somehow warded to silence any spellcasters not aligned with Tiamat!  Jack peers around the room, using his warlock sight to perceive the magical auras within it.  “It’s the entire ritual chamber,” says Jack, gripping his scythe in both hands, “but the effect doesn’t extend down the air shaft!”  If the casters can somehow manage to stay aloft at the edge of the shaft so they can see and cast into the room, spell casting should still be possible. 

 

Altaer moves to jump back into Kaelin’s arms, as the plate-clad holy liberator stands just at the edge of the shaft, her fly enchantment still active. Unfortunately, the sorcerer cannot move fast enough to avoid a wrathful flame strike from Azarr Kul.  “Burn and die, weak son of Azramahmoudinaj!  Your failure and his are now complete!”  The roaring column of flame envelops Altaer, who was already badly wounded by the Abishai’s harassment.  The young sorcerer is charred badly, his flesh and vital organs burned to a crisp by Azarr Kul’s divine power.  His smoldering, smoking body collapses to the floor, and Azarr Kul lets forth a bellow of triumph.  “More sacrifices for you, Tiamat!  Our victory is at hand.”  One of the abishai grins evilly and draws out a wicked curved dagger.  “Now you drop all weapons, or I kill!” says the little dragon-devil, fixing Ayo with its glance.  She only snorts in derision, signaling the others to fight on.  “Very well then, you seal his fate,” giggles the abishai, plunging the dagger deep into Altaer’s neck, severing his arteries and pouring out his life on the stone floor.

 

 

Ayotunde knows she has only a few precious seconds to revivify her friend.  She leaps into Kaelin’s arms, and the enlarged liberator tucks her under one arm like a sack of potatoes.  Under such circumstances – flying in a stone airshaft tucked under the arm of a large sized ally – Ayo judges that concentrating on her somatic gestures will be difficult indeed.  Kaelin then scoops up the ruined body of Altaer and flies back into the shaft, keeping his altitude as steady as possible.  Kaelin cannot hover, so he moves up and down in the shaft in a reasonably controlled manner, turning and twisting as necessary to keep his momentum under control.  Meanwhile, Jack charges skyward towards the western balcony where Lucia is busy attempting to summon more bearded devil allies.  He cuts down one of the abishai just as Lucia completes her summoning, but no devil answers her call.

 

 

Klar engages Azarr Kul in midair, laying into the High Wyrmlord with a series of rapid strikes from his double-axe.  The half-dragon proves to be puissant with his sword and shield, deflecting most of Klar’s blows harmlessly.  He hisses a curse in Draconic and cuts Klar deeply in return.  Klar thinks better of facing Azarr Kul on his own, taking one more slashing opportunity attack from the Wyrmlord’s bastard sword as he flies down and lands near the altar of Tiamat. 

 

Ayo, jostled and bothered by Kaelin’s efforts to stay aloft, attempts to channel her revivify spell and restore Altaer to life.  However, the intensity of the battle and the unusual circumstances causes the young cleric to mis-cast her somatic gestures.  Her spell is wasted, and Altaer’s window of opportunity to return to life closes abruptly.  Ayo cries out with a curse of despair, knowing her failure has doomed her friend in an hour of great need.  Kaelin continues to hold both the cleric and dead sorcerer in her arms, one slung precariously under each arm.

 

Jack, deftfully dodging the two abishai’s blows, finally reaches Lucia on the balcony.  “’Allo, sweetums” he says, just before channeling a quickened true strike and a devastating hideous blow through his scythe, slashing Lucia deeply across her torso.  As Lucia attempts to flee his blade, Jack finishes the job with a well-placed eldritch blast, and the second erinyes is no more. 

 

Now standing before Tiamat’s unholy altar, Klar drops his ancestral weapon and draws forth the adamantine greatsword the party discovered in Tyrgarun’s hoard.  “With your father’s sword, bitch!” he swears at Azarr Kul, whose eyes grow wide in shock as Klar brings the adamantine blade down with all his strength on the Tome of Slaughtergarde, cutting the book in half and sending torn pages fluttering around the room like a flock of paper birds.  A low hum from the abyssal portal above, barely noticeable until its cessation, suddenly stops.  Klar’s quick thinking seems to have disrupted Azarr Kul’s link to the Abyss through the Tome!  “Noooooo!  My ambitions will be fulfilled!  You know not what you have done, fool!”  screams the High Wyrmlord, landing near the altar and redoubling his attacks on Klar. 

 

Meanwhile, in the fleeting moments between heartbeats, Altaer’s mortal spirit has begun to drift to its final rest.  As the brash young sorcerer floats through astral space towards the celestial realms, images of his life and battles flash through his exhausted mind.  Feelings of work left unfinished and family debts left unpaid seem to draw Altaer towards a glowing pocket of light in the distance.  As he nears the light, Altaer sees the shimmering draconic forms of Bahamut and his ancestor Azra, each shaking their heads forlornly.  Bahamut speaks first: “O bearer of my Mark, to fall in battle now after all your trials is a shameful destiny.  This was not meant to be.”  Azramahmoudinaj looks upon the spirit of his get with consternation.  “Milord’s words may be harsh, but you have indeed failed, Altaer.  In your moment of glory, you had the opportunity to stop the machinations of Mu-Tahn-Laa’s offspring.  I am most disappointed in you.”

 

Altaer is shocked by the dragons’ harsh judgment of his death in battle.  He turns his face momentarily from the two, taking a moment to compose himself and choke down his rising anger.  Despite his growing sense of betrayal, Altaer pauses to listen to Bahamut’s next words.  “You bear my mark and have suffered much for the cause of good and light, Altaer.  I can provide you one last chance at life, but the price shall be high.  Does your soul wish to return to its flesh shell to carry on the battle?”  The sorcerer takes a deep breath, pausing only for a moment before nodding grimly.  “I will finish this task,” he exhales.  Bahamut and Azra blink sadly in acknowledgement.  A moment later, Altaer’s spirit is violently and painfully torn from the astral plane and pushed back into his body.  His screams of agony seem to echo through his own skull and the whole of the astral landscape.

 

 

In the material world, Ayo and Kaelin – still flying in the airshaft as the battle rages – see Altaer’s burned body undergo an abrupt transformation. His skin, once pink and youthful but now burned and scorched, takes on a brass hue and a jagged scaly quality.  What little was left of his long brown hair falls out, leaving his bald scalp covered in ugly, scaly brass flesh.  His fingers and toes elongate slightly and grow sharp brass talons, and his ears shrink to a mere fraction of their former size, leaving little but earholes in the sides of his head.  However, these painfully-wrought changes also seem to breathe a spark of life back into him.  All that remains is for Ayo to gather her courage and fan the spark back into a flame of life.

 As Kaelin floats at the edge of the stone shaft, Ayotunde fishes out another bag of diamond dust and prepares a second casting of revivify.  This time, she focuses deeply inward, concentrating on the core of calm and peace that her faith in Shandae the Earth Mother provides.  As she sprinkles the dust over Altaer’s ruined form and speaks her prayer, Ayo cannot hold back a gasp of joy as Altaer’s eyes flutter open, alive with life once more.  However, the sorcerer is still severely weakened so Ayo wriggles free of Kaelin’s grasp, landing on the floor and brandishing her longspear as she stands protectively over Altaer’s body.

 

Azarr Kul growls a throaty curse in draconic and moves past Klar to menace Ayotunde.  Klar slashes desperately at the High Wyrmlord with Tyrgarun’s greatsword, but his lack of familiarity with the weapon causes him to miss, though the blow landed tantalizing close to a weak point in Azarr Kul’s defenses.  Cursing to himself, Klar throws the weapon aside and draws out his ancestral double-axe once more.  His draconic features buzzing with angry arcs of electricity, Azarr Kul hisses menacingly at Ayo as he casually knocks her longspear aside and delivers a deep cut across her thighs.  He raises his eyes to the pool of energy above, and calls out “Toargus!  Laurazhi!  Answer my call, you cowards, and join the battle!”  Frustratedly, he screams again.  “Toargus, by our pact of blood and souls, appear before me!  Laurazhi, you brazen whore, honor your bargain!”  Still there is no answer from his abyssal allies, indicating that Klar may indeed have broken that connection by choosing to destroy the Tome.

 

Jack lands near the altar of Tiamat admist the broken, scattered pages of the Tome of Slaughtergarde.  He fires an eldritch blast towards Azarr Kul, but the canny Wyrmlord ducks the bolt of fey energy.  “You’ll have to do better than that, faerie boy,” he sneers.  Ayo ducks and dodges while casting a powerful healing spell defensively, and just manages to channel the energy to get Altaer back on his feet and fully conscious.  The sorcerer leaps over the edge of the well into Kaelin’s outstretched arms and lobs a freezing orb of cold directly into Azarr Kul’s chest.  Ice and rime seems to grip his scaly body for a moment, but he fights on.  Klar charges ahead and clashes blades with the half-dragon, causing the chamber to echo with the ringing sound of steel against steel, but only one blow gets through.  The High Wyrmlord’s attention is still fully on Ayotunde.

 

“Revenge for Tyrgarun!” cries Azarr Kul, laying into Ayo (who destroyed his dragon father with a flamestrike) with his massive bastard sword.  He strikes her twice, first crushing her to her knees with a slash to the belly, and then crossing the first blow with a deep cut across her chest.  Ayo falls in a heap, near to death and bleeding out her life as Tiamat’s servant stands over her triumphantly.  Klar redoubles his efforts against him, striking past his defenses as Altaer readies another orb of cold.  Jack slips around the side of the room to flank their foe and protect the fallen Ayo.  Altaer’s eyes flare as he throws another orb at the High Wyrmlord.  Distracted and weakened as he is by Klar’s unrelenting melee assault, Azarr Kul is unprepared to dodge the incoming missile of cold.  He takes the orb full in the face, and his body freezes up into a statue of ice, toppling at the foot of the altar.  His scaly flesh shatters on impact, scattering across the floor as he dies.  But the battle is far from over.

 

Even as the heroes watch in horror, the broken flesh of Mu-Tahn-Laa’s scion gathers in a heap, reforming Azarr Kul’s body within a few scant seconds.  “Yessss!  Lady Tiamat has blessed me with renewed life!  I cannot die!” screams the cleric, brandishing his weapon and shield again, apparently at full strength.  “Other powers than the gods watch this battle, and wager upon its outcome!  I will show my strength, my worthiness, for think not that we were not foretold to face one another in glorious battle!”  However, Jack’s arcane sight notices one significant difference: all of Azarr Kul’s battle enchantments have been broken, and he now stands before the companions bereft of divine protections.

 

Klar and Jack move into flanking positions against him and find that their blows strike true now that his spells are gone.  Ayo gets back on her feet and manages to back away outside of Azarr Kul’s range, which frustrates him all the more.  However, he cannot now afford to absorb too many blows from the frontliners, who effectively have him tactically pinned against his own goddess’ altar and unable to safely maneuver.  The son of Tyrgarun is not so easily beaten, however, and he strikes repeatedly at Klar, finally dropping him to an unconscious and bleeding state.  Only Jack, Kaelin and Altaer remain standing, with two of the three in a compromised position in the well, due to the unhallow effect pervading the room.  Azarr Kul is also severely damaged, having absorbed numerous blows from Jack and Klar.

 

Altaer summons up his arcane reserves and, while resting in Kaelin’s arms, conjures forth another orb of cold.  He cocks his arm, which burns with weakness and the agony of his brutal transformation, and lets fly the freezing projectile.  It strikes true, whizzing over the head of Jack and once again catching Azarr Kul fully in the face.  As before, the orb seems to freeze the High Wymrlord slowly by inches, and he falls against his the altar of his own dark dragon goddess, shattering into a gruesome mosaic of frozen scales and bloody chunks of flesh.  This time there is no resurrection, no third chance for his ambition to be realized.  The High Wyrmlord of the Red Hand of Doom has been broken, his plans shattered by five servants of the light.

 

Yet all is not peaceful within Tiamat’s fane.  The five stone heads of the altar begin to writhe of their own accord, and a deep rumbling vibration spreads from beneath the altar until it envelops the entire room.  The streams of energy coalescing at the top of the egg-shaped chamber flare with the five colors of chromatic dragons – white, black, green, blue and red – and suddenly the chamber goes completely dark, filled with an obscuring cloud of absolute black.  The top of the chamber cracks and shatters with a cacophonous crash, sending chunks of masonry crashing down into the room.  A fivefold voice of limitless malice and hatred booms out: “Defilers of my Fane, shudder and fear me!  For you now face Tiamat, Goddess of Dragons and bane of mortals!  You will all die!”  With mounting horror, the exhausted heroes realize that a portal to Avernus has opened above their heads and that a terrible, five-headed aspect of Tiamat looms over them.  The huge avatar of Tiamat’s vengeance lands atop her broken altar with an ear-splitting roar and prepares to devour their bodies.  But all is not lost… Jack calls out the name of Bahamut, remembering the Platinum Dragon’s pledge to assist them in their hour of need.

 

 

Time seems to stand still and a curtain of astral energy parts before the five companions’ eyes.  Bahamut himself steps out of the hazy silver curtain, surveying his champions with his forceful and yet compassionate gaze.  “Heroes you are indeed!  Now stand and deliver my fury unto this aspect of my sworn enemy, for you bear my mark upon your skin and you fight with my blessing.  I return you now to full strength.  Fight with all your might and courage, for victory is at hand!”  With a wave of his mighty forelegs, Bahamut throws a serene and cool mist over the five friends.  As the mist envelops them, each adventurer feels their wounds heal, their spells and abilities renew, and their fatigue melt away.  Bahamut nods once, and then is gone.  The final battle has begun.

 

Tiamat’s five heads roar in fury as she sees the companions inexplicably returned to full strength.  Her green head breathes forth a sickening blast of poisonous vapor upon Jack, Ayo and Klar, but she saves her true fury for Kaelin.  “Mewling whelp, who taunted me with song and rhyme, now feel my vengeance!” cries Tiamat.  Her five heads snap and bite at Kaelin, who is quickly overwhelmed by the assault.  A single set of attacks is all it takes to reduce the liberator to a bleeding mess on the floor.  However, by focusing her attacks on Kaelin, Tiamat allows the other four companions to strike deeply into her flanks.  Though ferocious and strong, her scales are not so hard as to be able to deflect the blows of Klar and Jack.  Even as she ruins Kaelin and drops the liberator to death’s door, Tiamat’s aspect absorbs many deep cuts as well as an empowered orb of cold from Altaer.  The sorcerer now seems to be eschewing fire spells, perhaps feeling that his ancestor Azra abandoned him to his twisted fate.  Ayotunde carefully steps back and burns the dragon queen with a flame strike, adding her own elemental fury to Altaer’s spells.  Though Tiamat is somewhat resistant to all elements, a good deal of damage still gets past her defenses.

 

The dragon queen rears back and unleashes an enormous blast of fire upon the remaining heroes, nearly burning Ayo and Altaer to a crisp.  Altaer, on the edge of death yet again, concocts a desperate plan.  When Altaer feels Ayo's healing power coursing through his body, Altaer feigns unconsciousness.  All of his years of bluffing culminated in a masterful performance, and Tiamat turns her attention from the still quite alive sorcerer to the other party members.  Her five heads swivel to Jack and Klar, this time splitting her bites between the two.  The aspect of Tiamat seems desperate to punish and kill the heroes rather than preserve itself.  Seeing the Dragon Queen thus distracted, Altaer, still prone on the ground and knowing a single attack could kill him, unleashes a powerful fireball.  Although she absorbs some of the damage, Jack and Klar, standing opposite the five-headed avatar even as she stands over her own altar, take advantage of the magical distraction and strike deeply and true.  Jack hamstrings the dragon queen with his scythe, and as her tendons and muscles give way, Klar’s axe slices through sinew and bone to slash vital organs and spill the heartsblood of Tiamat.  With a terrifying shriek of anguish and hatred, the aspect collapses in its death throes, shattering the altar beneath it and melting away into a pool of stinking, tarry fluid.  The dragon statues at the top of the balcony crumble and crack, their power now broken and faded.  The heroes have defeated this aspect of the fearful Dragon Queen of Avernus, ending the threat against the Elsir Vale at last.  Astonished by the outcome of the short, brutal melee against Tiamat, they take comfort in each other’s embrace and thank the gods for preserving their lives through this struggle.  

 

Now that the Fane is free of the remnants of the Red Hand, the heroes explore it thoroughly for treasures and plunder.  A hidden door (through which Lucia and Franchesca initially appeared) hides Azarr Kul’s quarters and a lavish treasure vault.  After deciphering the password to the vault’s chests by finding a scratched out phrase on the inside of a bejeweled water pipe, the group heartily claims the many shining treasures collected by Azarr Kul and his minions over the past several years.  Each hero claims several valuable items or weapons from the vault, in addition to an astounding array of gemstones and gold coins.

 

Nerida 4 – Nerida 25: In the weeks following Klar stakes his claim upon the Fane itself, renaming it the “Fane of Ijruk” in honor of his deity.  He coordinates a large-scale migration of the Wyrmsmoke Bloodflayers into the new Fane of Ijruk with the shaman Gril’daun, and takes up the mantle of tribal chieftan.  None of the orcs dare challenge his claim, and all welcome his leadership.  Klar offers the others permanent residence within his new Fane, as well as visitation rights should they choose to settle elsewhere.  The half-orc has fulfilled his ancestral quest and restored his tribe to their rightful place as protectors of the Wyrmsmoke Mountains.

 

Jack returns to Brindol with Ayotunde and Kaelin, dragging Klar along so that the new chieftan may also enjoy the banquets and parties thrown in the group’s honor.  Of the five, only Altaer is subdued and quiet, having paid a high price for his bravery.  Though still only a young man of nineteen summers, Altaer now appears of indeterminate age, covered in jagged scales and strange runic scars.  His beautiful mane of blonde hair has been replaced by a scaly skullcap of bronzed flesh that juts out of his skull at odd angles.  Neither draconic nor human, the formerly boisterous and free-spirited Altaer now broods in the shadows, embittered by what he perceives as a betrayal on the part of Bahamut and Azra, whom he believes have judged him too harshly for his “failure” against Azarr Kul.

 

Jack quickly locates the raven-haired Captain Soranna Anitah of Drellin’s Ferry.  After some drinks and conversation, the two warriors retire to a lavishly appointed private room in one of Brindol’s finest inns, sharing their passion for days and nights until both are blissfully spent.  In between their sessions of conjugal fun, Jack parties with his odd friend Besha, who is most pleased to discover that all five of the companions survived their ordeal at the Fane.  Besha agrees to help Jack to better understand his heritage and the dreambrand that he now wears, but those explorations will have to wait until some normalcy returns to the Elsir Vale.

 

 

Ayotunde at first tries to comfort Altaer, but the sorcerer is inconsolable at the moment, so she takes an extended leave of absence to soak up the Goddess’ energy within Brindol’s temple of Shandae.  Among the acolytes of pleasure within the temple, Ayo loses herself in a sea of earthly pleasures for days on end, emerging only to join the dancing and revelry in Brindol’s streets from time to time.  Though her appetites for pleasure are great, Ayo also feels more than a few pangs of guilt over her friend Altaer’s current state, and she vows to dedicate her waking hours to helping him find a cure for his condition.

 

Kaelin spends the festival days in the company of Besha, accompanying him on her recorder with ever-increasing skill as the eccentric old fellow moves about town playing dance tunes for the folk of Brindol.  Like Jack, Kaelin has many questions for Besha about her heritage and Besha’s own fortuitous appearances during their journeys, but the fuzzy-bearded merchant remains mum for the time being.  “You’ve done well, Kaelin,” he mutters, “and now is not the time for such things.  All in good time, my boy… all in good time.”  The green buds flow freely from Besha’s satchel into Kaelin’s pipe, and all the good folk of Brindol and the Elsir Vale heap unending praise upon the five heroes who dared stand against the might of the Red Hand of Doom. 

 

The first link in destiny’s chain has now been forged.  With the destruction of Azarr Kul, the defeat of his Red Hand horde, and the sundering of the Tome of Slaughtergarde, the ages-old machinations of Mu-Tahn-Laa have finally been ended.  Though the month of Nerida is indeed a time for great celebration, there is also a sense among the five companions that the world is holding its breath, and that a great marshalling of forces on the sides of light and dark has begun in earnest.  Gaia is now free of the threat of Azarr Kul and his ancestor Mu-Tahn-Laa, but there are still scores remaining to be settled.  The cunning succubus Laurazhi still waits somewhere in the Abyss, with her hezrou boss Toargus’ schemes still waiting to be unveiled.  Laurazhi claimed the hand of General Hravek Kharn, father of Klar, for herself and took that trophy back to the Abyss for some fell purpose.  The Ghostlord Urikel Zarl remains a blight upon the southern pass to the capital city of Oberwald, and as long as he holds sway over the Thornwaste there will be trouble to the south.  And what of the “other powers” that Azarr Kul spoke of just before his last moments?  The High Wyrmlord seemed to think that his rise to power and subsequent clash with the five companions was somehow foretold and observed by others who have not yet revealed themselves.

 

 

A time will soon come when these questions and others find their answers, but in the month of Nerida in the year 22CR, the side of light stands victorious thanks to the efforts of five brave champions.

 

 

SO ENDS AZARR KUL’S AMBITION.  This branch of Gaia's Dream continues in The Threefold Sundering.

 

Azarr Kul's Ambition