Book One, Part One: The Fall of Kenebres

For several weeks, excitement has been building in Kenabres—Armasse is coming! Traditionally an opportunity for scholars and priests to come together to study the lessons of history from wars past, since Aroden’s death, this holy day has become more about training commoners in weaponry, choosing squires, and ordaining new priests. Over time, Armasse has grown to encompass jousting competitions, mock duels, battle reenactments, and other festival events. In Kenabres, the festival that takes place on the 16th of Arodus is eagerly anticipated, for it provides distractions from the horrors of being on the front line of the war. Smiles on faces normally marred by downcast eyes and furrowed brows do wonders for city morale in the weeks leading up to the event.

You may have been in the city a while, or just arrived, but you all are in the city on the day of Armasse. At least you were. As you all come to consciousness, your bodies aching slightly, you are aware of lying on cold hard rock and dirt. Opening your eyes does not aid in figuring out your whereabouts, there is just darkness. For now your minds are too jumbled for waking up to recall what happened.

As you all start to talk, other voices also join in.

'Who the hell are you all. Why, why, when I get out of this mess if it's all your fault you will be sorry.' A gruff pompous voice.

'I am here. A pained male voice

As the ioun torch starts spinning Lariel and everyone else can for the first time make out their surroundings. The ceiling and far walls of the vast cavern you all find yourself in recede into darkness.

On one side, the wall has collapsed in an enormous mound of rubble—here and there the arms or legs protrude. In the back of the cavern, a disturbing shape looms. Nearly the size of a horse, what appears to be an immense black spider crouches silent and still on the ground

As well as you all, there are three more figures that seem alive, two flinching away at the sudden light, but one, a male elf who shows no response, and only a quick look at his face explains why. It's a mess of burns, and his eyes were not spared from whatever caused them.

Of the others, one is a slightly rotund man, finely dressed, though the clothes now bear dirt and scrapes, nursing one hand. The other is a female who who seems to quickly adjust to the light, and studies each of you warily, remaining quiet. One of her legs is caught awkwardly behind up, underneath some of the rubble.

As you look around at the bodies and the rubble, finally you recall the events from moment previously.

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Armasse officially began at noon, with the blessing of the festival by Lord Hulrun himself, ruler of Kenabres. The crowd gathered in Clydwell Plaza quieted as the aged inquisitor took the stage, clad in shining, resplendent armor. He cleared his throat, but just as he was about to speak, a bright light shone from the west, as if the sun were rising from the wrong direction. Hulrun’s shadow fell huge and distorted across the cathedral’s facade. A moment later, the sound of a thunderous explosion ripped through the air and earth, along with a violent tremor.

To the west, the fortress known as the Kite—the location of Kenabres’s wardstone—had vanished. In its place, a brilliant plume of red fire, lightning, and smoke erupted into the heavens. A moment later, a powerful roar accompanied a welcome sight rising from the crowd—Kenabres’s greatest guardian, the ancient silver dragon Terendelev, who had until that moment been attending the opening ceremony disguised as a human. Above, another form appeared, as nightmarish as the dragon was breathtaking. A humanoid shape three times the size of any man, with skin coated in fire and lightning, gripped a flaming sword and whip. The creature’s identity was immediately obvious: Khorramzadeh, the Storm King of the Worldwound, had come to Kenabres!

As the ground continued to shake and disgorge demons into the streets, the dragon and the balor lord clashed above. The fight was over in a few harrowing moments, as the balor cut deep into Terendelev’s body, swooping down to strike the dragon and arresting her charge. A few more blows, and the titanic duo spiralled downward toward the crowd.

The sight of the dragon smashing into the facade of the Cathedral of St. Clydwell is one no witness would ever forget. At that moment, a titanic demon erupted at the far end of the plaza, reducing several buildings to ruins as it smashed into this world. The rift it created shot across the plaza, and this time there was no escape—it opened below your feet, angling away into darkness.

Even as you fell, the dragon noticed your plight. Though she saw death standing over her, she seized this final chance to save a few more souls. After she uttered a few arcane words and stretched out a bleeding talon, you felt her magic take hold of you, slowing your plummet into the darkness as if you were feathers falling into a pit. Yet the fall remained as inexorable, and as you drifted downward into the depths, the last thing you saw was the Storm King standing before the ancient silver dragon, his sword lashing out and cleaving full through her neck. As her severed head fell, the rift above you slammed shut, and the light of the world above was gone.

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The woman watches cautiously as Elias approaches, and seems about to say she can do it herself, before sighing and accepting his help, though now she can see she also starts slowly trying to clear it. Underneath is not a pretty sight. The leg is bloody and clearly shattered in several places.

The elf turns sharply as Manius speaks to him, trying to pinpoint where he is. 'Aravashniel. I am a scholar in the city.'

'A scholar? More like a hopeless rumormonger picking at scraps.' The noble looking man barks out. 'Not that you're much better, believing such things' He points over at the woman who's face remains guarded.

'Ah Horgus, how pleasant to know you are also here.' The elf clearly recognises the mans voice. 'Though yes my fellow scholar is correct we should all share names and start to organise. I have such experience in such things. I will need someone to guide me and be my eyes. I got a little close to the storm king's whips. He winces, both at the pain and the memory

Horgus gives a snort, before pulling himself up. 'Horgus Gwerm, of the Kenabres nobility. Now will you lot stop dealing those to and check out my arm, I do not want to lose it. They will live.' He reveals the hand he has been cradling, to show a very small scrape, likely from a small falling rock.

'Anevia Tirabade.' The woman speaks as she slowly extracts her leg with Elias's help, though stays down. 'I do not believe it has been long.

The spider remains still.

Anevia's face finally softens as she seems to finally accept that at least Elias, but also likely the rest of you mean no harm.

'I am a scout, though technically required. I also like to think I am good shot with my bow.' As she speaks she tries to stand, but the second any wait is put on her leg she lets out a yell and collapses.

'Thank you Manius' Aravashniel lets himself be led, though he turns at the abrupt yell, startled. Horgus seems to barely noticed, instead satisfied at least for now that his 'life-threatening injury' has been dealt with, which all Manius needs to do is make a show of cleaning it and covering it with something.

Lariel as you look at the spider you had been sure earlier there was some movement, but now you can clearly see it's head appears to have been crushed by some rocks.

Elias, the leg is very badly damaged, in several pieces. A splint might help but you yourself aren't sure how to go about fixing one in this case. Healing magic may also help at least enough for her to tolerate walking on it, if there is enough to spare.

'There is no advantage to either, however whichever we pick it is a cold idea to keep picking it, to ensure a lower chance of missing a way out. Anevia speaks as she fishes in her pockets, passing some things to Elias, two vials of an orange viscous liquid and 3 black sticks. I doubt tese will be much use for me right now. You lot should share them, they may help us get out of here. The vials will explode when thrown, the sticks if you crack them they will cloud you in smoke.

Quaji you unfortunately can't identify the spider.


Manius your words seem to settle Horgus, for the moment at least, and he even seems slightly more amicable towards you. As you approach the spider Anevia draws her bow in preparation, though holds it awkward in her sitting position. As you go to poke it with your glaive suddenly it's abdomen bulges and out burst three long white creatures, easily recognisable as maggots, albeit much larger than normal.

Map

Anevia acts on instinct, nocking and firing an arrow even before she's had a proper look at the threat, however that and her awkward posture makes the shot go very wide.

Horgus is cowers, Aravashniel seems unaware of what is happening.

Manius's weapon pierces one of the maggots adeptly, and it barely squirms on the blade before falling limp.

Elias quickly slashes another maggot in half. The third, knowing no better, lunges at Manius, seeing him as just it's next food source, but just flops against his armour.

Anevia holds, clearly concerned that she's just going to be wasting arrows while trying to shoot in her posture.

Manius moves around his tiny foe and strikes again.

With the guidance from Quaji Manius skewers the last maggot swiftly, and calm returns to the cavern, except for Horgus who is still cowering behind someone.

Anevia lowers her bow. 'We should be alert, it seems the creatures below Kenebres are not the friendly kind. Even though those were a pushover, I doubt all will be.'

Anevia pulls off her arm guard and places it in her mouth, before nodding she is ready. Eli is able to gather the materials needed from stuff which fell with them. As he sets the leg the scout clearly grimaces, but makes now sound as she bites down on her guard.

Quaji and Lariel you both recognise the name Tirabade as relating to the half-orc Irabeth Tirabade, a high ranking member of the Eagles watch group of crusaders. Quaji you realise Anevia is her rarely spoken of wife, and ex-adventurer who likes to stay out of the limelight.

You also both know Horgus Gwem as a very rich noble, who has his hands in quite a few pots. A few months ago he and some other nobles were accused of funding the wrong side, but he was cleared.

All you both know about Aravashniel is he is scholar.

Horgus noticeably puffs up as Lariel start paying attention to him. 'Why yes, as a noble I definitely and a leader, I can get us of of here.

Aravashniel jumps in 'Nobility means means nothing. I am better suited to lead because I am..well am used tot.. I am well read.'

'He means he is part of an organisation call the rift wardens that proclaim loudly about competence but don't do anything;' Anevia cuts in as she leans on Elias.. 'Also I thank you for your offer but if there is something like a staff I can leave you free, instead of needing your support.

'that was not for you to say' The elf cuts in. 'But yes I have studied the demons and as long as someone is my eyes I can lead us out of here.'

Anevia manages a smile at Elais That sounds agreeable. And if you continue with your ways I am sue Iomedae will bless you with such. You hope to be a paladin?'

Horguses bravado immeadiatly dissapears as Grimoire appears, and he yelps before trying to hid before Lariel. 'What...what is that thing. You are working with the demons?!'

Anevia also seems on guard, gripping her bow, but recognising the creature is making no move towards them. Aravashniel also looks alert, though has no idea where to look

'Well err..' Horgus already seems to fumble, before puffing his chest up and pointing to the left tunnel. This one..

There's some huffing noise from Arvashinel, but the group follows. Only 10 feet doen the tunnel it begins to open up into a smaller cavern. This smaller cavern appears to have once served as a campsite or temporary lair. A torn bedroll lies next to the cold remains of a fire. A pile of bones, broken equipment, and rubble lies just past the campsite.

As Elias pokes around he starts to spot some things that could be useful. Out of the rubble his digs up 3 candle stubs that you could still burn for a small bit, a torn bedroll, a bent fishook, 10 feet of very frayed rope, and a copper brooch depicting a bat perched on a mushroom. On closer inspection the bats eyes are small amethysts.

Quaji, the path continues on for anoth 10 of so feet, then you can see it opens up into a much larger cavern.