Session 12-7-07

                Date unknown (rested in Chaal-Nathra once): After resting for eight hours, the friends awaken in the same alien environs they fell asleep in.  The watchful gnome spirits urge them to explore further, believing others of their kind are hidden in other nearby caverns.  Essedar leads the group down a twisting, moldy passage towards an unexplored cavern, but as they make their way out of their sleeping alcove he spots a chilling and disgusting display: five facsimile bodies, one matching each of the party members, have been strung up on the wall outside the alcove.  The bodies are held in place by bloody cords of viscera and each tormented face shows the pain and agony of a cruel, slow vivisection. 

                This sight shakes Tel and Londario to the core, but Essedar’s restoration magic gets them back on their feet.  The others steel themselves against what Zara calls “cheap parlor tricks,” and they all push forward into a moldy and damp cavern.  As they approach the cavern, Essedar boldly leads them towards a stagnant pool of dark, stinking liquid.

                As he nears the pool, a deadly pair of aberrations that Nathaniel identifies as darktentacles lash out from the depths of the pool, grappling at limbs and weapons alike with whipping, suckered and bladed tentacles.  Essedar fires a volley of aberration bane arrows into the midst of one darktentacles, and it screams out in a strange, alien howl of agony.  Zara’s spear pierces the other creature deeply, causing its inner maw to reveal a bunch of pink, pulsing muscle that forms into a parody of Essedar’s screaming face.  Another pair of spear strikes from Zara ends the first darktentacles, as she calls down Arinna’s justice upon her foe.  While Londario distracts the other monster with blade and shield, Nathaniel weakens it badly with a magic missile, and a second volley of arrow finishes it off.  The dead ‘tentacles slip away into the depths of the stagnant water (or whatever it is…) and the cavern falls silent except for the labored breath of the five wayfarers.

                A complete search of the moldy, disgusting cavern reveals more glowing gemlike cysts hidden beneath the stones in the shallows.  Zara strikes each cyst with her trusty hammer, releasing over a dozen more grateful gnome spirits.  These naturally gravitate towards the first group, creating a sort of incorporeal community of gnomes whose quiet chatter seems surreal and comforting against the backdrop of alien eldritch corruption that is Chaal-Nathra. 

                Satisfied that the lower caverns are cleared, the party heads up the main shaft towards a crossways corridor made of the same weeping, throbbing pestilent green flesh as before.  The crossways is clear, leading off towards shadows in both directions, but the way directly ahead is choked off by shadowy web-like strands that seem to shed darkness.  Nathaniel and Essedar work together to dispel the shadowy webs, clearing the corridor ahead.  About forty feet beyond, the corridor opens up into a wide flesh-cavern with 50’ high sloped walls cloaked in more of the shadowy webbing.  A disturbing sculpture has been erected on the floor of the left side of the cavern: a fifteen foot tall bust of a masked, horned humanoid.  The horns are like those of a mature stag, and it is difficult to tell if they are part of the mask/helmet or jut directly from the head.  The mask itself is a death’s head – a skull of indeterminate racial origin that almost seems like an amalgamation of many Gaian races, and a scarred face is hidden beneath the death’s head.  The bust seems to be made of calcified flesh, and it is run through with red pulsing veins that seem to be pumping sanguineous fluid through it.  The energy and presence from the bust seems both compelling and hauntingly familiar, drawing the gaze of all five companions.

                Eventually they pull themselves away from the strange sculpture and move back away towards the crossways, heading left towards the sound of rushing air.  About sixty feet down a fleshy corridor, the party finds a high vaulted room, longer and taller than wide, and seemingly made of a soft, squishy membrane that expands and collapses with a wheezing, wet rush, not unlike a lung.  A strong breeze blows back and forth as the room breathes.  The “lung” has been pierced in two places from below by a pair of sharp, jagged spires of shiny black stone, and its flesh seems to have grown back around the wounds. 

As Zara and Essedar move into the room, all five travelers hear a soft, deep lilting voice slip effortlessly into their minds with a telepathic contact.  “We are the guardians of this place, the lore keepers, summoned to serve.  You interlopers… must identify yourselves and speak of your passage.” 

                Two alien beasts gently flap down from their perches high atop the black spires to converse with the group.  They appear as otherworldly cephalopods with the wings of bats and glowing golden eyes.  Six short tentacle-arms are complemented by two longer ones with a 30-foot reach, and each creature has a beaklike mouth where the tentacles meet.  Though they radiate evil, the beings seem to be interested in talking.  “You… have come as have the others, with the erection of the ‘idol.’  It was brought… by the others who came from the outside.  You too came from there, seeking the others perhaps?  We… shall talk of these things.  We are the lorekeepers of the Great City, we who write its history on its flesh and pillars.  You… may submit yourselves to our care. We… will cut open your flesh and explore your functions and possibilities.  The gift… would be one to cherish and you would be well pleased to have chosen such.”

                The two guardians will not elaborate on the nature of the “others who came from the outside,” but they seem genuinely curious to trade magical lore with Nathaniel and discuss seemingly mundane subjects from the Prime Material plane.  After several minutes of conversation, the two seem to flutter closer. “Now the time has come to choose, will you die in pain slowly or come quietly and submit to us?”  The party answers with drawn steel and arcane fury.

                As battle is finally joined, the lorekeepers of Chaal-Nathra prove to be as potent as their confidence suggests.  They pelt the party with arcane energy, mixing quickened magic missiles with acid-substituted fireballs, scorching rays and orbs of energy.  Using their natural maneuverability, they flit about the spires, taking cover and avoiding the party’s melee attacks.  Essedar is able to puncture their flesh easily with his arrows, and Nathaniel’s magic burns and freezes their flesh, but Londario, Zara and Tel are frustrated in their attempts to reach the ‘keepers.  Tel foolishly leaps forward and tries to scramble up a spire towards one of them, but his brave (if ill-advised) jump ends with him prone and vulnerable on the ground.  Zara goes down to a volley of magic missiles, her spear clattering uselessly to the ground.  “You… should have come quietly.  We… would be merciful and quick in bringing death before your dissection.  We… regret your foolish insistence on defying our will.”  Londario angrily takes up Zara’s greatspear, taking its weight and measure.  Though the weapon was not designed to be thrown, he cries out “The Walker’s justice on you, beast!” and hurls it with all his might, slamming it into and through the body of the first lorekeeper.  Its eyes go dark and it falls silently to the ground.  Essedar gets Zara back on her feet with a powerful casting of cure critical wounds, and Londario shouts “Lady!  Your spear, throw your spear and may your aim be true as mine!”  With that, Zara pulls the spear from the dead ‘keeper and throws it high and straight, impaling the second creature through its lower belly and up through its brain.  It too falls in a quiet heap, moving no more.  Upon retrieving her spear from its corpse, Zara looks up at the backside of the black spires and sees that they are covered in glowing gem-cysts, each holding a wayward gnome spirit.  The spires rise well over 200 feet into the air, and it will be impossible to free all the spirits without a dangerous climb or some form of magical flight.

                Exhausted from their battles with the aberrant guardians of Chaal-Nathra, the companions retreat to their temporary headquarters in the lower caverns.  The freed gnome spirits greet them enthusiastically as Nathaniel summons a secure shelter for sleeping, and the party again rests within the conjured shelter under the watch of their incorporeal guardians.  Though sleep in this corner of the Far Realms is fraught with dreams of alien geometry and mad, nonsensical images, they manage to sleep soundly enough for eight hours.  Still having located no apparent exit from this awful place, the travelers resolve to scour every corner until the writhing and sorrowful realm of Chaal-Nathra reveals its secrets. But sometimes revelations can be unwelcome, and secret insights can worm into the mind and gnaw at the core of hope inside the hearts of sentients…

Falling Stars, Rising Hope