May 1, 2021 2:25 am
Leth's knowledge of dragons isn't as abundant as his knowledge of small woodland creatures, but he tries to recall what he can.
Rolls
Arcana - (1d20+2)
(7) + 2 = 9
Chapter Eight: The Virid Coronation
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May 2, 2021 12:34 am
"Gods teeth..." Felor mutters to himself. Did Gorham summon this beast from another dimension or just call it from elsewhere in the Werld? Suddenly feeling the sting of his wounds, Felor also takes a swig of healing potion.
Rolls
Healing - (2d4+2)
(42) + 2 = 8
May 2, 2021 4:04 pm
Leth recalls that white dragons can be dim and vile-tempered, but that's about it.
As Zangua advances toward the dragon, he hears a thin, piercing cry from behind him: "Dragon!"
He and the others turn to see the burnt carcass of the Hierophant lurching to its feet, leaning precariously against his cypress staff. He lifts his head. Nearly all of the flesh is gone, but green flames still burn at his brow and temples.
"Aitas preserves me!" the Hierophant cries. "I am the power and authority in Hazard! Begone, dragon! Your ally is dead, you see this yourself! His designs are foiled, this too you can see! Return to your mountain! Return to your cave and your hoard!"
The dragon rears and snorts. Leth glances around. The fighting has stopped, the Hierophant's remnant and the cultists stand terrified and still. The Pharate has melted into a thick black clot on the ground, now utterly devoid of the alien life force that seemed to be radiating from within it just moments ago.
The Hierophant stands up to his full height and raises his staff. Two long tongues of bright green flame flare from its tip as he bellows with an unearthly voice: "BEGONE, DRAGON!"
The dragon lets out a deafening, wrathful screech and lunges forward, taking wing. Among the people gathered, some scream and cower and throw themselves to the ground, but Felor stands and watches as the dragon passes overhead, beats its wings, and wheels in a wide ascending circle to the north. Screeching once more as it climbs into the night sky, the white shadow departs Hazard.
Party members, you may speak or take an action if you like.
As Zangua advances toward the dragon, he hears a thin, piercing cry from behind him: "Dragon!"
He and the others turn to see the burnt carcass of the Hierophant lurching to its feet, leaning precariously against his cypress staff. He lifts his head. Nearly all of the flesh is gone, but green flames still burn at his brow and temples.
"Aitas preserves me!" the Hierophant cries. "I am the power and authority in Hazard! Begone, dragon! Your ally is dead, you see this yourself! His designs are foiled, this too you can see! Return to your mountain! Return to your cave and your hoard!"
The dragon rears and snorts. Leth glances around. The fighting has stopped, the Hierophant's remnant and the cultists stand terrified and still. The Pharate has melted into a thick black clot on the ground, now utterly devoid of the alien life force that seemed to be radiating from within it just moments ago.
The Hierophant stands up to his full height and raises his staff. Two long tongues of bright green flame flare from its tip as he bellows with an unearthly voice: "BEGONE, DRAGON!"
The dragon lets out a deafening, wrathful screech and lunges forward, taking wing. Among the people gathered, some scream and cower and throw themselves to the ground, but Felor stands and watches as the dragon passes overhead, beats its wings, and wheels in a wide ascending circle to the north. Screeching once more as it climbs into the night sky, the white shadow departs Hazard.
Party members, you may speak or take an action if you like.
May 3, 2021 4:29 pm
Zangua regards the Hierophant suspiciously. "That ain't natural, right?" he asks of Felor. Zangua himself seems uncertain whether to destroy the flame-touched carcass or thank them for their help.
May 5, 2021 4:29 am
Leth glances at Zangua and shakes his head, with a hand on his bowstring, but he doesn't make any aggressive movements. The Hierophant did seem to send the dragon away, which he is grateful for.
He glances around to see if he can spot Lendras.
He glances around to see if he can spot Lendras.
May 5, 2021 5:04 pm
Leth finds no sign of Lendras. From what he was able to see, it didn't look like she escaped the meltdown of the Pharate.
May 10, 2021 8:00 pm
Zangua approaches the Hierophant, or what's left of him. He is guarded, with his glaive held defensively. "What are you?" he asks.
May 10, 2021 9:35 pm
"I have given all and everything that I am to the service of this city," the Hierophant replies, turning his skull slightly toward Zangua. "And Aitas has given back what is needed."
May 10, 2021 9:53 pm
"Gorham is dead," Zangua announces to the Hierophant. "The dragon is gone, though I'm not sure how you did that.
"What happens now?"
"What happens now?"
May 11, 2021 8:30 pm
Last call before we move forward, everybody. Felor, any thoughts or observations?
May 15, 2021 6:28 pm
"I will see to the affairs of the city, and of the land," the Hierophant replies.
Zangua glances back at Felor. The mountain man seems lost in prayer.
The moments and hours that follow pass strangely. Your last sight of the Hierophant is of him leading a procession of sorts to the Broken Tower, accompanied by many of the witnesses and participants of the battle on the Isle. For whatever reason, each of you feels adverse to joining in.
The next morning you all awaken at an inn in the Commercial District with little recollection of how or when you got there. Already, however, there is news. Word has quickly spread that the Cron family was found by a gang of rustics outside the city walls, in full disguise, the Innocent among them. The rustics had seen the conflagrations and the descent of the dragon, and when they realized the House of Cron was attempting to abandon the city and break their sacred oaths, they tore them apart, sparing no mercy for the Innocent nor any other.
By noontime talk abounds that two tall pillars have been erected in the Trigon: one bearing the head of the wizard Gavrel Gorham, the other bearing the head of the last Innocent of Hazard.
On the south side of the city there is wreckage to clean, damage to mend, wounds to heal and bodies to bury. The city gates and waterways are sealed; no-one is allowed to enter or leave. By sunset, the word on the street is that the patriarchs of the Houses of Gahmez and Ibetbal, among others, have arrived at the Temple of Aitas to offer sacrifice and acknowledge Frater Equamo Cola, the former Hierophant of Hazard, as city's one and true King.
For the Hazardites, there is little to be said of Gavrel Gorham and the Six-Pronged Crown: just another mad wizard who brought deviltry and ruin upon innocents for his own glory. On the other hand, fulsome praise is given to the Hierophant who turned back the devils with the force of his faith and intimidated a mighty dragon into retreating.
A story also takes quick hold regarding the sword-maiden Lendras, companion to the Hierophant, who destroyed the Black Egg brought by the devils from beyond the stars to devour all the souls in Hazard, heroically giving her life in the effort and thus fulfilling the last prophecy of Mirza Horgul and justifying the city's transition back to kingship.
That night, as a pair of laborers set to work putting to rights the destruction of the Old Temple District, one shared with the other the rumor that a remnant of the band of mercenaries known as the Companions of Edvers Kells had been present for the battle on the Isle. As he told his workmate of the doughty warrior who had taken to the air with an incredible flying leap to strike off the wizard's head, he picked up another shard of iron and set it in his wheelbarrow. It was an unusual piece, curved and knotted. He was curious where it had come from -- the Shrine of Culsu nearby, or what was left of it, had no significant ironworks that he could recall.
"It wasn't the leaping axeman, it was the archer. All who were there saw it. Shot him right out of the sky."
"It was not, I have it direct from one who was there. Now she said it was the northman's goddess who aided him, carried him aloft so he could strike the mortal blow. Of course that's fanciful, but the leaping part is true. Many saw it."
"Some say he flew like a bird, same as the wizard," the other workman scoffs. He watches the other pick up another chunk of iron. "That's a strange metal," he observes. "Looks like iron, but -- something different about it."
"Temples get offerings of strange metal all the time. It's scrap now."
"You think it'll melt proper?"
"It's just iron," says the other, tossing it into the wheelbarrow. "It'll melt."
THE END.
This concludes The Secret History of Bload. If you would like to share any questions, observations, or updates on what your character would want to do with the rest of their lives, please join me in the Postgame thread. Thank you all so much for participating in this campaign.
Zangua glances back at Felor. The mountain man seems lost in prayer.
The moments and hours that follow pass strangely. Your last sight of the Hierophant is of him leading a procession of sorts to the Broken Tower, accompanied by many of the witnesses and participants of the battle on the Isle. For whatever reason, each of you feels adverse to joining in.
The next morning you all awaken at an inn in the Commercial District with little recollection of how or when you got there. Already, however, there is news. Word has quickly spread that the Cron family was found by a gang of rustics outside the city walls, in full disguise, the Innocent among them. The rustics had seen the conflagrations and the descent of the dragon, and when they realized the House of Cron was attempting to abandon the city and break their sacred oaths, they tore them apart, sparing no mercy for the Innocent nor any other.
By noontime talk abounds that two tall pillars have been erected in the Trigon: one bearing the head of the wizard Gavrel Gorham, the other bearing the head of the last Innocent of Hazard.
On the south side of the city there is wreckage to clean, damage to mend, wounds to heal and bodies to bury. The city gates and waterways are sealed; no-one is allowed to enter or leave. By sunset, the word on the street is that the patriarchs of the Houses of Gahmez and Ibetbal, among others, have arrived at the Temple of Aitas to offer sacrifice and acknowledge Frater Equamo Cola, the former Hierophant of Hazard, as city's one and true King.
For the Hazardites, there is little to be said of Gavrel Gorham and the Six-Pronged Crown: just another mad wizard who brought deviltry and ruin upon innocents for his own glory. On the other hand, fulsome praise is given to the Hierophant who turned back the devils with the force of his faith and intimidated a mighty dragon into retreating.
A story also takes quick hold regarding the sword-maiden Lendras, companion to the Hierophant, who destroyed the Black Egg brought by the devils from beyond the stars to devour all the souls in Hazard, heroically giving her life in the effort and thus fulfilling the last prophecy of Mirza Horgul and justifying the city's transition back to kingship.
That night, as a pair of laborers set to work putting to rights the destruction of the Old Temple District, one shared with the other the rumor that a remnant of the band of mercenaries known as the Companions of Edvers Kells had been present for the battle on the Isle. As he told his workmate of the doughty warrior who had taken to the air with an incredible flying leap to strike off the wizard's head, he picked up another shard of iron and set it in his wheelbarrow. It was an unusual piece, curved and knotted. He was curious where it had come from -- the Shrine of Culsu nearby, or what was left of it, had no significant ironworks that he could recall.
"It wasn't the leaping axeman, it was the archer. All who were there saw it. Shot him right out of the sky."
"It was not, I have it direct from one who was there. Now she said it was the northman's goddess who aided him, carried him aloft so he could strike the mortal blow. Of course that's fanciful, but the leaping part is true. Many saw it."
"Some say he flew like a bird, same as the wizard," the other workman scoffs. He watches the other pick up another chunk of iron. "That's a strange metal," he observes. "Looks like iron, but -- something different about it."
"Temples get offerings of strange metal all the time. It's scrap now."
"You think it'll melt proper?"
"It's just iron," says the other, tossing it into the wheelbarrow. "It'll melt."
THE END.
This concludes The Secret History of Bload. If you would like to share any questions, observations, or updates on what your character would want to do with the rest of their lives, please join me in the Postgame thread. Thank you all so much for participating in this campaign.