Decisions to be made

Bayern was walking through the tunnels and streets of Gilderock. He had seen many Dwarfen settlements but Gilderock was amongst the richer and grander ones. He had spoken to some of the Dwarfs that came to shake the hands of him and his companions and picked up some of the city's history. Over centuries Gilderock was the main trading post on this side of the pass, linking the valley on this side of the mountains with the coastal regions around Febril. Rich merchants and skilled craftsmen were the majority of its inhabitants, steadily increasing its power and wealth.

When the pass had to be closed because of the dangers lurking underneath the mountains, Gilderock could contain much of its wealth due to its influence on politics and trade within the valley of Fengdarn. Then came the civil war. Dwarfs fighting dwarfs over reasons that most weren't even aware of. Gilderock, as a hub of power, was hit hard and lost many good dwarfs, but trade never ceased to bring gold into the city's coffers. Soon after the dwarfs agreed on an armistice, the big war swept through the lands, again keeping trade revenue down. But Gilderock, being in the heart of the Dragon's realm, was spared the fate of many major cities like Febril in the east or Seawell in the south.

Nowadays, with the Dragon keeping the peace, Gilderock was on the way up again and the tax payments to the sovereign were high but ensured the dwarfs plenty of rope to run things the way they want. All in all, Bayern was proud of the achievements of his race here. A perfect example of dwarfen resilience!

He looked up when a grey-haired dwarf in the vestments of Bahamut approached him.
"It is an honour to meet such a fine example of a cleric of Bahamut. Your reputation and knowledge about all your heroic deeds preceded you and I was looking forward to meeting you!"
Bayern looked a bit taken aback by so much praise but shook the hands of the old priest.
"The pleasure is mine! I haven't had the chance to meet a brother in faith for a long time. Tell me brother, is the faith in Bahamut strong on this side of the mountains?"
The old dwarf pointed towards a tunnel which led to a bigger cavern.
"Let me show you our church here. My acolytes will be pleased to make your acquaintance. You are a hero to them!"
While they walked the priest started to answer Bayern's question:
"Gilderock was never a stronghold of Bahamut. Most dwarfs here, being craftsmen and miners, follow the teachings of Moradin. But even if small, our community was always strong and we have establishments in most towns and villages around here."
Bayern could see a concerned look on the face of the old man.
"But I'm getting old and most of my students are too young and inexperienced to be sent out to the villages. There are still many dangers lurking and I lost many good clerics in the fights. I was hoping that you might be able to help us for a while..."
The dwarf looked at Bayern, his face full of hope
"With your reputation and experience you would be a shining beacon of hope for many young dwarfs and we would be able to strengthen the influence of Bahamut!"

They finally approached a building showing the shield of Bahamut. Some young dwarfs gathered at the entrance, whispering to each other.
"I know it is just a desperate plea from an old man, but somebody has to lead those students. My days are numbered and I will soon join Bahamut in his great halls"
The dwarf stopped for a second and put a hand on Bayern's shoulder.
"I don't want to push you. I know you have important tasks of your own and your group depends on you. Bahamut teaches that evil has to be opposed and you were and are a powerful implement of our god. All I ask is that you have a look at my students and what we have created here. Even if you only help me for a limited amount of time, we could form those young students so that they are able represent Bahamut when we are both gone!"

After a mass together with the students and some stories from the eastern side of the mountains, Bayern was sitting in a more quiet alcove of the small church looking at the students that were still gathered around the old priest. Bahamut teaches to oppose evil wherever possible but also to protect the weak. Is that the task Bahamut wants him to take on? To strengthen those acolytes so that they can carry on the fight in the future? He took a deep breath and looked up to the shield of Bahamut over the altar. He would have to make a decision soon!

Tremor with fear

Vogir follows the rest of the group back into the binding chamber. The very walls are shaking now and, as he passes into the chamber leading to the pit, he sees why.
The creature. The enormous creature is half out of its prison.
Stopping in his tracks, Vogir watches as his teammates rush into action. The Shadow chain Dwarves set two of the artefacts down.
The Rib and the Hand.
Bayern places the Heart and the fleet footed Niema sprints to place the Eye.
All of them chant the binding prayer and the Stone Titan reels.
Ghanash and Orestes rush towards the mountainous demi-god.
Rudha-an also closes.
Vogir, momentarily paralyzed with fear, stands beside the Dwarven cleric: Bayern.
Notching an arrow and steadying his breath, Vogir fires an arrow into the only vulnerable spot he can see.
Its eye. Its single remaining eye.
The arrow flies true and hits dead centre!
...
But it fails to penetrate. A scratch at best.
The others strike at the stone behemoth like bees around a bear.
It’s only the loss off its eye, hand, rib and heart that prevents it from crushing everyone like bugs.
Despite its disabilities, two of the Dwarves quickly get trampled under its terrible heel.
Rudha-an and Orestes are dominated by the creature’s massive will and in confusion turn against themselves.
Finally though the creature starts to weaken and it’s only then that Vogir feels the courage to advance.
His arrows have done a little damage but he knows that his two magical swords can do more.
Vogir isn’t there long however before the Tiefling demoness appears out of the shadows and topples the Titan with more of her dark magic.
Looking directly at him, Niema licks the dusty blade that brought down the creature.
As their eyes lock, a feeling of icy fear trickles down Vogir’s spine.

Quaking with fear

Despite the sudden increase in the incidence of the earth tremors, Vogir’s teammates still seem lackadaisical in regard to the urgency of their mission.
The demoness, just returned from her scouting mission, tells them that at the top of the spiral staircase there are just three orcs guarding the final piece of the Stone Titan…
She heads back up just as the ground shakes again. Unwilling to wait any longer, Vogir charges past the slow-witted Half-orc and Dragon-born Warriors and up the stairs.
How tough can just three orcs be?
Charging toward the first one he sees, Vogir sticks his sword deep into the belly of the dragon-masked orc.
He doesn’t fall.
However, spurred on by his action, the others follow his lead and rush to attack the remaining orcs.
Vogir sees the cowardly demoness slip out of sight just before the three orcs summon spirit creatures from a large pile of bones.
The spirits streak across the room knocking everyone down except the dwarf Bayern and the invisible Niema.
The shock of injury overcomes Vogir for a moment and he rolls for cover under a nearby table. Taking a deep breath however, he gulps down two potions and springs to his feet.
He charges at the nearest orc and slices him open before spinning around and ramming both his swords into a second one.
Thankfully the conjured creatures are pulled back to the spirit world with their now dead masters.
Still injured, Vogir then rushes to bring down the last but largest of the shaman orcs.
He is protected by magical forces and seems to be hovering rather than standing on the ground.
It does him no good however against the combined weapons of the Dwarves, the Half-orc, the Dragon-born, the demoness and his fellow human.
Unsurprisingly though, it is Vogir again who claims the kill.
All three of the kills.

A Titan is Just a Mortal with a Bigger Shadow

Covering herself in swirling shadows she follows Ghanash into the room darting for the drawing on the floor. For the first time she gets to see the massive body of the titan. She'd killed large and even mythical creatures before but that opponent definitely will take the first place on her list! Feeling into the shadow realm the shadow of the titan stands out in front of her and she places an invisible shroud on it to make a connection. Passing Ghanash, who started to take a stand to grant her cover, she lunges into the circle on the ground and places the eye in the center, muttering the words Duggin had told her. While the eye merges with the drawing on the ground she rolls over, to get into a better fighting position, greatsword lifted over her head ready to parry any attack.
A quick look across the room shows that all three dwarfs have placed their parts in the according circles! The party can begin

She concentrates, strengthening the power of her shroud connection to feel for weaknesses of her target. Without looking she flicks her hand and a black dart of shadows leaves her hand, burring itself deep in the titans flank. She notices Orestes suddenly walking and falling into the pit as if controlled and she can feel the power emanating from the titan also probing her mind. Resisting the urge to follow the titan's commands she quickly tightens the grip of her shroud, feeling for a weak spot through the thin shadow connection. Suddenly, spotting a weakness in the defense, she pulls herself through the shadow realm along the connection. She calls forth the strength of her ancestors which transforms her body and leaving the shadow next to the titan's body, buries her sword deep in his side. Almost instantly she can see the large hand swinging at her, but somehow weakened through forces that seem to emanate from the cleric. Her sword swings a second time but gets parried and the massive hand passes through her now insubstantial body. To get away she reaches for Ghanash's shadow next to her. She quickly finds the connection towards the druid which she uses and leaves the shadow next to Rudha-an.

While she issearching for the next point of attack, the druid bends down near her to take the eye out of its position, clearly fighting a battle in his mind against the overpowering will of the titan. Niema's hand, already half way towards the dwarfen daggers she took of the dead bodies in the passage, stops, as she can see the druid finding back to his senses. The loss of the eye could have meant the end of this battle and the death of them all and she would have been ready to stop Rudha-an with a quick throw, companion or not.

She closes her eyes to see the shadow link that keeps the titan in this plane getting weaker. It won't take much now to sever it. A quick look around makes her realise that also the rest of the group had taken a beating. She focuses her powers and could feel the diabolic blood giving her strength. Before stepping back through the shadows towards the opponent she shapes the shadows on the opposite side into the form of her body as a distraction.
Closing her eyes again she looks at the manifestations in the shadow realm and pulls herself along the now weakening connection towards the massive shape. Taking together all her powers, she again leaves the shadow realm to push her sword into the titans body, aiming towards the empty space where his heart once was and where the shadow links are anchored.

On the way down the massive body pulls her sword upwards and while keeping the grip, she rolls upwards to end up on top of the chest as the body hits the ground. She can see the face of Vogir appearing next to the body and while looking straight at Vogir she twists her sword, feeling the last link being cut and fading away. They had won and the titans shadow had left this plane once again. She pulls her sword out of the body and stands up looking down over the battle field. Feeling her body transforming back to its normal form she lifts the blade to her mouth.
Looking at Vogir she licks along the blade tasting the sweet blood of a titan.
"The sweet taste of victory! Tastes almost like human......just bigger!"
She smiles and winks at the ranger and, gleaming with satisfaction, walks past him to somersault off the body to check on the others.

ByeErn

See ya Josh.
Your Dwarven badassness will be missed.
:(

All of a Quiver

Vogir shakes his head and sighs.
A cavernous room full of Orc archers and what do his associates do?
Wander out of cover and charge headlong towards them.
With swords drawn!
Swords!
Frankly it’s only the Dwarf: Bayern keeping them alive.
If he were ever to fall or worse, abandon them, they wouldn’t last long.
Still, there was one glimmer of good news.
Vogir smiles as he wanders between the dead Orc archers. Whistling, he gathers up their spilled arrows until all three of his quivers are completely refilled.

In (his) sights

Vogir shifts uneasily.
Rudha-an and Bayern are talking to the tattooed Dwarves they’d just saved.
Orestes is cleaning his weapons and Niema is counting out the treasure they’d discovered.
Niema.
She had been badly hurt in that battle.
Vulnerable.
Vogir had seen her, bloodied and exposed.
It would have been a simple shot. Given the time he’d had, he could have easily sent an arrow straight through her demonic heart.
…
Instead he had charged and killed the Orc harassing Rudha-an.
But why?
Perhaps it’s the absence of the darkness that had so recently permeated his soul.
Perhaps it’s the uncertainty of her true goals.
Perhaps it’s just the fact that she could still prove useful in assuring his own survival.

Guarding our rear

Vogir stands beside the Dwarf Bayern.
Gripping his bow, he waits about two hundred feet back down the tunnel from the others.
The plan was a simple one: Break the group up and trap them in the fortified Dwarven control room.
Still they had decided that some of the Orc horde might run straight past.
It was Vogir and Bayern’s job to stop them.
…
They waited as the sounds of battle echoed down the giant corridor.
…
‘Perhaps we should go help them?’ Volunteered the Dwarf.
‘Not yet. They’ll call if they need us.’

It’s a good fifteen minutes later when Rudha-an appears out of the gloom.
He is bloody but intact.
With a grave face he asks, ‘Are you two alright? How many came this way?’

The Iron Giant

After destroying the weird automatons, Vogir watched as the Dwarf: Bayern activated the massive Dwarf-like golem.
Grinding to ‘life’, the creature lumbered over to the giant lever in the centre of the room.
Not waiting for further instruction, Ghanash then ran back down towards the blocked corridor. Vogir and Rudha-an in close pursuit.
The Dwarf would have to catch up, as would the elusive Tiefling temptress.
Standing back from the slowly rising block of stone, Vogir smells the stench of orc before he hears the grating sound of their voices.
With longbow in hand, Vogir starts to drop back down the corridor.

Arrows of outrageous fortune

The uninjured Vogir stands still for a moment as he suppresses a shudder of revulsion.
The giant spider lies dead at his feet.
He was lucky. It was killed before he'd even had a chance to defend himself from its freakish leap.
One of his companions was responsible for the help, and although he hopes it was Bayern, he somehow knows it was the Eladrin.
Being indebted to a ‘Tourist’ makes it that much harder to hate them.
Especially when that 'Tourist' is obviously mourning his dead cousin.
After making sure everyone else is safe, Vogir checks his supply of arrows.
Only two encounters in and he’s already burned through nearly half of his original three quivers worth.
It’s obvious now, that his Grandfather was right. A Longbow and enough distance will make for an easy battle.
The only problem is, that you have to be able to carry an infinite supply of arrows.
Muttering to himself, Vogir scans the gloomy tunnels, looking for any of the arrows that missed their target.
Some of them may still be usable.

(Vogir recovers 3 arrows.)

The Big Question

Turning to Bayern, Vogir whispers, ‘Why is the ground shaking and why is that entrance so big?’
Putting his hand on the Dwarf’s shoulder to prevent him going further toward the massive opening, Vogir leans down again.
‘I realise Dwarven architecture is often overblown, but that’s ridiculous. An ancient Dragon could easily wander in and out of there without even furling its wings!’
Realising that he might offend the healer, Vogir presses on anyway.
‘This looks more like it was made by the hands of giants. At least originally. ‘
And then just to annoy the Dwarf, Vogir pushes on further.
‘And is it possible that Dwarven over mining has undermined this entire region?’
With a smirk, Vogir strides off before Bayern can make a gruff retort.

First Impressions

Niema healed herself and looked around. It had been a quick battle and it had been difficult to hide her abilities from the others without getting hurt too much. It was the first fight she saw the group fighting and it was time for a quick analysis.
The dwarf definitely was the one to stay close to. His spells had been useful and a healer is always a good thing to have around you. She would have to be careful to keep him on her side.
The Eladrin seemed to be a powerful fighter who had the ability to use teleportation which made him a useful tool but was also a bit reckless at times. The death of his cousin still seemed to affect him and maybe kept him from keeping a clear head for the fight.
Celestes, well, was a half-orc and for that had fought well. Niema didn't think much of orcs. They made good meat shields but needed a strong hand to lead them. Jumping into the river into the middle of the fish was an, lets say, interesting choice. The type of choices that get you killed quickly! But it enabled herself to move around almost freely behind his back.

Her gaze fell on the Dragonborn. He hadn't been there when she first met the group and had only joined again later. Niema hadn't talked to him yet. Dragonborns long ago had fought her race and were responsible for her people being nomads now and the hate was still rooted deep inside her. Her diabolic blood was boiling every time she looked at him. But the group seemed to think highly of him, so her options of getting rid of this nuisance without losing the group were slim. But as expected, he was a lousy fighter. He took the most damage and had to run from the attackers and hide behind a shed. So maybe this problem would solve itself soon.

While she was thinking about Ghanash, Vogir had joined the group again and gave her a probing look. Although being a male human, the type of people she normally had no problem manipulating, he seemed to keep his distance from her. His arrows had taken down the Hippogriffs and he clearly was the best ranged fighter in the group. He surely couldn't suspect anything! She couldn't afford to have him as opponent. She brushed down her dress and went straight for him with an enthusiastic voice:
"And here comes the hero who took down the Hippogriffs all by himself with his arrows! I haven't seen anybody for some time who was that proficient with a bow and made it look so easy! I'm honoured to have such an talented protector by my side!"

Fish and Hip(pogryph)s

Sheathing his two swords, Vogir kicks the carcass of the Hippogryph. Thanks to his arrows he’d managed to bring down both of them while his travelling companions had dealt with the curious, water squirting fish.

Examining his injuries, he waits for Bayern to cross the bridge and administer some aid.

Those Hawk/Horse creatures were tough but thankfully as stupid as the fish.

Shaking his head, he wonders about the twisted concept of bravery the others seem to share.

The Dragonborn Ghanash, acted in a way as to be expected, and the Orc Orestes too. But the others…

Velorian, seemingly lost without his cousin, acted rashly. He actually attempted to teleport up to the Hippogryph while in flight.
The following fall could easily have killed him…
Perhaps he’s feeling a bit suicidal?

The Tiefling: Niema is literally too dark to be trusted.
What was she doing in the dungeons of Winterhaven? She was certainly no sacrificial virgin, regardless of what she said… And she has magic.
Black magic.

Only the Dwarf Bayern has proven himself totally trustworthy. He ably supported the others with his encouragement, strong arms and healing spells.

Still, wading into the water after fish. What were they thinking?
Why don’t any of them have bows?

Sighing, Vogir wishes Zahig and Rudha-an had joined them. At least they know how to stay away from an enemy.

Death of a tourist/Death of a hero

Vogir leans forward, his hands gripping his own thighs for support. His heavy panting sounding loud in the silence after the battle.
Despite using his corpse as a counter weight while riding down the rope, it’s only now that Vogir actually realises that Daelagor is dead.
He had been so angry at his own failure to support the Eladrin, that he literally lowered himself into death’s maw.
He had been wounded by the two opportunist skeletal creatures even before he’d managed to reach the bloody ground.
Unsurprisingly, it had been the noble Egil that was the first to follow him down.
Equally unsurprising the Paladin had been the next to die.
Mostly everyone had joined in the melee by then but the enemy were too powerful.
Kalarel seemed impossible to hurt and his undead minions unnervingly strong.
It was only Vogir’s own magical armour that kept him alive through blast after blast of necrotic energy.
Egil had managed to keep the evil priest occupied while the rest of the Party concentrated on his followers. By the time that Egil was lost, only three men, a dwarf and Daelagor's failed bodyguard: Velorian stood between Kalarel completing his rituals and freeing the thing writhing within the portal.
Egil lost to the tentacles of the monstrous creature itself!
Bayern, Zahig, Velorian and Rudha-an turned their attention to Kalarel, enabling Vogir to dispatch the last of his underlings. Then the battle became five against one.
Good odds it would seem, but the cursed Priest refused to concede defeat.
Spell after spell battered the Party and all seemed lost when a sudden sword thrust found its target.
In the confusion, it was hard to tell who’s hand had been on the hilt of the killing thrust, but Vogir allowed himself the tight-lipped smile of revenge.
With a screech of rage, the portal collapsed and Winterhaven was saved.

Stairway to heaven

He cursed a quick elven curse for not spotting the small hidden peek hole in the door at the other end of the room. By the time he realised his mistake, the group of hobgoblins was already in full sprint towards him. Calm as always he considered his options in the split-second it took him to ready the dagger and unsheathe his longsword: He thought about the trap mechanism just a few feet behind him which would trigger the portcullis and separate the group from his companions giving them enough time to organise a defense by the time the hobgoblins could open it again.
The slavers only had covered a few feet when Daelagor started to turn and head for the mechanism when he saw the weapon coming towards him from the left. Unable to dodge it, he could feel it penetrating his shoulder just a second later and now noticed also the other three opponents, storming out the door to his left. He tried to parry the next two attacks but - with the first sword still constricting his movement - failed. Now that his body had a chance to catch up with the recent chain of events, the pain started and darkness started to take over.

He could feel the rays of warm sunlight on his face and opened his eyes. Lying in soft, mossy grass he looked up where the rays broke through a canopy of white leaves far above him, bathing the forest around him in soft light. It was reflected from the silvery bark of massive trees. Never had he seen such majestic trees! Even the most beautiful white trees of Senaliesse, the home of the summer queen Tiandra, seem pale in comparison to them. His hands felt the warm grass around him and with his eyes now getting accustomed to the bright light he could make out the chrystal-like buildings and hanging bridges in the tree tops. While trying to lift his upper body, unbearable pain suddenly started to cloud his mind......

Pain! He again opened his eyes in the midst of a raging fight. Directly above him he could make out the dwarf Bayern standing over his chest and being surrounded and attacked by three opponents, fiercely defending his position. Just when Daelagor tried to make sense of the scene his eyes could see, it blurred and the darkness came back.

Walking on the soft grass he reached out for the silver bark of the tree in front of him. How did he get here? The bark was sleek and flawless and he looked up the tree which was at least 10 feet wide with branches only starting in the far distance. He could feel the power of nature radiating from the tree up his arm and through all the cells of his body. He turned around and for the first time noticed the silky white robe he was wearing. It was of outstanding quality and he only had seen comparable fabric at the court of the Eladrin queen. Still feeling the fabric with his hands, he noticed the woman standing near the next tree, watching him. She was also wearing a perfect white robe which seemed to play with the sunlight hitting its surface and Daelagor could make out the bottom of a staircase behind her. He started to walk slowly towards her and opened his mouth to speak....

The loud noise of metal hitting metal next to him made him open his eyes and the face of Egil occupied almost his whole field of vision. He could feel the paladin's hand on his chest and felt a warmth emanating from it as if life was streaming back into his body, attenuating the pain. Within seconds his head was clear again and his trained senses took over. The hobgoblin warchief was standing between Egil and the dwarf and despite their attacks the slaver seemed to try to attack Daelagor. The hobgoblin's sword scratched along Daelagor's arm while he was getting up and before leaping out of the danger zone Daelagor's dagger just missed the open spot within the armour of his opponent. Just seconds later Daelagor could see the hobgoblin going down and the noise of battle dying down. Daelagor looked at Egil and Bayern who were standing over the now dead body of the leader and piecing together the few memories of this battle he realised, that without these two companions he would be dead by now. A debt that he won't take lightly! He could also feel a image of majestic trees and a woman slowly fading away. Before he could make sense of it and it was gone.