Trail of the Broken Spear

Breaking the Seige

The battle rages just outside the walls of Malakh, with skirmishes going on inside the walls and above the battlements. Massive battle golems crush Lemures by the dozens outside the gates, the pathetic devilkin unable to harm them, the golems preventing them from breaching the aging wall. Regothdeszeld, the Guardian of Khalass, a huge silver dragon, flew in from overhead, bolstered by an arcane shield, protecting him from the rays of fire extending from the Hamatulas’ hands as his freezing breath strafed across the abyssal skirmish lines, Lemures and Barbazus fell easily to his freezing cone of ice. Erinyes and Osyluths took to the air, evading his breath, or blinking out of existence as walls of ice hemmed in the devilish horde. Many hours later, the light of the sun had long since dwindled, the dragon landed within the city walls, the exhausted paladin that had ridden astride it, healing it’s wounds for hours, slumped and fell from the makeshift harness, exhausted and unconscious. She was caught by her friends and carried to the inn to rest up from the day’s battle. There were still many more devils outside the gate, but now a huge portion had been cleared, allowing the Companions of Westcrown a chance at attacking the commander of the infernal army. The guild they had acquired the services of Celeste from was hard at work, a diviner trying to determine the location of the devilish commander while the Companions rested for the upcoming battle. The next morning the Inn was quiet as the Companions awoke, as they filed downstairs they found the dwarven king seated with a tall, frothy mug of Rumblekeg Ale, eating breakfast. A scroll laying neatly beside his plate as he jammed a forkful of quail eggs mixed with spiced potatoes past his neatly kept beard. “Ye’ve done a lot for our folk, an’ we aint forgetting no time soon. I s’pose today ye be decidin’ if yer movin’ on or giving us one last help. They commander of this section of their army has been found by a diviner, an’ there’s no time better t’hit him.” He gestures to two pieces from his battle map that he brought with him, “Now I just need t’know which piece I be playin’ agin’ him.” One piece was a smaller piece, the dwarven rune for “Friend” inscribed upon it, the other larger, with “Crown” etched in it the beard of the small, stone worked dwarf.

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The Walls of Malakh

As the companions of Westcrown near the embattled city, it is clear the majority of the fighting lay outside the massive walls. Thousands of lesser devilkin battling Dwarf, human and golem alike. The golems, familiar from the approach into the city from their previous travels, no longer lined the marketway, cutting a swath through the least devils, some are overwhelmed by the advances of lesser devils and their commanders. Teams of devils pop in and out of existence on the walls, harrying the defenders, wearing them out while receiving few losses of their own. The horde outside seems to continue to grow, the mass expanding further than previously seen. The party is invited to a busy war room and taken before the King.

“Ye see what we have afore us. Back in th’ day this’d be nuthing to the earthen folk, We had allies, more guardians and help from even the blasted blade-eared elves… No offense, lasses.” He puffs from his pipe, the table an intricate map of the city and battlefield. “Now, I kin tell ye be wanting to be friends of the dwarves yet again. If ye can awaken an old friend o’ me Great Grand-pappy’s, it’d turn the tide of this battle. We’re makin’ ‘em pay dearly, but it ain’t goin’ well. We’re still few from our slumber, all able bodied, and not-so-able bodied, but cantankerous folk are fightin’ in turns, restin’ when able.” He pauses, sizing you all up, “I see ye’ve got yerself the Fair Lady, if’n ye could part from the priestess fer awhile te help heal our hurt lads an’ take the fight te the devils, it’d be greatly appreciated. I don’t intend ye to wake up Ragothdeszeld without a full crew, so if ye’d like, there be a guild of adventurers down Torag’s way, they’ve been helpin’ out a might and have a few as of yet un-injured folk who seem to be able to fight almost as well as a dwarf.”

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Tales of Tera

The Companions of Westcrown found the plane of Terah to be a disturbing place, large machines filled with gas lumbered slowly through the sky. The cities were loud and smelled of machinery, worse even than the dwarven nation of Caer Droghuun. In the short span of their time there on their journey to cure Meriss of the Bleaching, they’ve been attacked by Sky Pirates and have even been forcibly requested in the presence of Baron Wulfenbach. Will they find the Aeternity Orb that Meriss seeks? Will their portal home last long enough for them to return? Will they stop finding expendable lackeys to come and go willy nilly?

Find out all that and more on the next exciting adventure of:

The Companions of Westcrown!

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Tales of Elsewhere

The petite sorceress pounded her staff upon the rune-laden floor in her tower. Power arced through her and the floor gave way to an open portal, dumping the Companions and their old mentor onto the soft grass of a clearing with tall trees surrounding it. The air was warm, almost tropical and the wounds of the wilderness soon came back from it’s silence at your less then gentle deposit onto this plane. The gnome turns around, waving her staff, closing the portal to a tiny pinprick of light, barely discernible to the naked eye. She turns to you all, “This plane should have what I need to reverse the Bleaching.” She beams up at you.

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Summons

Healing up from the close victory, finally stopping the madness of Lady Vaermina, the Companions of Westcrown receive a summons, back to Cammen, to appear before the court of His Grace, King Barius Kil’Cammen, First of his name, Lord of the Cammen Reach, Ruler of Man. The summons leaves the Companions two weeks with which to present themselves.

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Fall of the Necromancer Part 1

Lady Vaermina Magnusson, famed dilettante, Philanthropist, Necromancer… has fallen…

Even before the Companions of Westcrown stopped her insidious plots the heavens foretold her doom. A powerful man, one of pure heart and purpose had ridden bravely to face her. Such was the might of the battle that the night sky was torn asunder, a bright beam of golden, holy light shredded the blackness, a pillar of hope seen for many miles. The companions were still a day out when they saw the beam at night, not knowing that all the while a lone champion faced the worst of the darkness Vaermina had at her disposal in the City of Canals. After nearly half an hour of being a blazing beacon in the sky, the light suddenly faltered and collapsed. Joelle, watching the light from the group’s campfire, felt the night close in around her like an unwelcome stranger, cold, intruding… She slept fitfully when her watch was over, certain something terrible had happened.

Elsewhere, a lone gypsy had seen the man, advising him of the dangers he faced, but was not able to sway nor delay his departure for the city. She drew three cards from her tarot deck, the Lion, showing a great hero, then the hanged man, seeing that he would face a great struggle. She pulled another to try to determine the fate, but two cards stuck together, the ten of swords and the death card, the ten of swords indicating the man would die, while the death card indicated he would undergo a great change. The next day, the man was gone, his holy light snuffed out in the night, as she was pulled out of her home and caged like a beast in cold iron by a milling group of undead under the command of an armored man who said nothing. The cage was carried slowly out of her swamp, back to the road to the city.

The Companions moved purposefully towards town, encountering the odd procession of skeletons, finding them to be rather powerful, not collapsing easily under their blows. Joelle quickly found herself surrounded by the undead, taking hits even through her enchanted armor. The silent man took advantage of her dilemma and charged, striking a powerful blow before one of Boran’s arrows took him in the neck, destroying an odd collar he wore, black arcane energies sparking off the now useless device. The fight quickly finished and the man remained unconscious, but without his helmet knocked askew, Boran realized he recognized the man.
Xander, or a shell of his former self. His hair had gone white, and what was visible of his skin was covered with a myriad of scars. Dev, investigated the device, and quickly realized it was a control collar of sorts, having been ensorcelled with many enchantments for domination of the psyche.

When Xander awoke, they continued on and found themselves led by the lady of mysteries to the cemetery, away from the manor house they thought contained Lady Vilhelm. Within they found the bones of many a thousand if not more undead. Torn, rotting flesh lay strewn as if a sharp force of nature ripped it’s way through, and in the center, atop a small hillock, at the feet of a cracked statue of a celestial they found a dull, cold iron blade. Dev detected minor magicks within it, and they passed it around to see, but when Joelle grasped the handle, it flared a brilliant gold color. A warm presence in her mind told her, “I am Amoracchius. Prepare yourself, your foe approaches.”

Almost in response to the drawing of the Sword of Faith, a form grew visible in the sky, a large, burning skeletal dragon bearing a rider swooped in as the Companions scattered to avoid Dragon’s Breath. Joelle leapt onto Caelius’ back as he leapt into the sky, but the foe, filled with dark energies was the faster, lowering a lance and piercing her breastplate easily, striking a mortal blow. The paladin was filled with holy energy, keeping her from falling as the dragon swooped past, the lance broken and the rider jumped off, landing beside her.

The Companions worked in unison, fighting the two powerful opponents. Paladin and the undead champion, a former paladin of Iomedae traded blows. Again Joelle was dealt a mortal blow, the dark knight’s frostbrand carving a deep, cruel line through her torso, but the gods refused to let her die, gasping, her eyes once again opened before she fell. Sybilla, the witch tried fighting the burning dragon in her dragon form, but was nearly slain, and lay on the ground feigning death until it turned on Xander, lashing out repeatedly at the armored fighter. She stood, offering what aid she could, exhausting her complement of spells, striving vainly, with Joelle, to keep him standing as he was struck unconscious repeatedly by the dragon. Boran, seeing his arrows do nothing to either foe, charged, drawing the Sunblade, swinging it at the dark knight, clanging it off his dirty armor, which still hinted at it’s former glory. Joelle staggered, the fight taking it’s toll on her, unable to bring herself back once more if she were to be slain again, striking at the skeleton’s side with Amoracchius, giving Boran an opening to slide the Sunblade through his chest, the two swords meant for slaying undead’s combined strength overwhelmed Vaermina’s newest and mightiest champion, light pouring through every crack and joint in the armor, leaving the skeleton within dust. Ironically it was the witch’s tiny psuedodragon familiar which finished off the burning dragon skeleton, hitting it with the pure magic of healing, disrupting the negative energies sustaining it. The dragon exploded in a fiery release of energies… once again knocking Xander out.

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Into The Apprentice's Tomb

On the Apprentice from the last battle.

Spellbook

6th — Create Undead, Eyebite

5th — Baleful Polymorph, Magic Jar, Teleport, Waves of Fatigue

4th — Animate Dead, Enervation, Fear, Solid Fog, Wall of Fire

3rd — Blink, Fireball, Fly, Ray of Exhaustion, Vampiric Touch

2nd — Blindness/Deafness, False Life, Resist Energy, See Invisibility, Scare, Scorching Ray

1st — Alarm, Burning Hands, Cause Fear, Detect Undead, Expeditious Retreat, Mage Armor, Magic Missile

Combat Gear:

Potions of Cure Moderate Wounds (2), Potion of Displacement, Potion of Invisibility, Robe of Bones

Other Gear:

Masterwork Dagger, Amulet of Natural Armor +1, Belt of Mighty Constitution +2, Cloak of Resistance +2, Goggles of Night, Headband of Vast Intelligence +2, crystal for magic jar (worth 100 gp), onyx gems (worth 300 gp), 623 gp


All this equipment dissemenated…(passed out)

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Party in Sirilion

The Companions of Westcrown plan on making a gift of a case of Onyx gems to Lord Airk Magnusson, Baron of Sirilion and surrounding lands. Accepting the gift will be his wife. Many nobles will be in attendance and there will be a dinner party afterwards.

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Above the Colossus along the Spine

The Companions made their way up into the head of the Colossus, which was, in fact, a Griffon Aerie, long abandoned by the dwarves, the griffons turned wild. It was here where Joelle found a new friend, the strongest of the griffons took her offering of meat and after hours of working, the two seemed to bond. She named him Caelius, with an attitude as strong as his name. In the stairwell, they discovered a secret doorway that Xander attempted to open, it did open, firing a multitude of crossbow bolts at everyone nearby. Boran quickly disabled the crossbows before they reset. In the room they removed the crossbows, unloaded the bolts and found several sets of dwarven mithril chainmail. Also within the room they discovered another door, this one with the handle set within a lion’s maw. Xander again tried opening the door, but stopped halfway through when Joelle stopped him, the delay worked against them as the trap was unavoidable if the door was not opened immediately after the handle was turned. Xander nearly lost his hand and would have if his bracer handled stopped the fine blade. After the door was opened and Xander healed, they decided they would explore it in the morning, leaving most of their gear. It led into a long, narrow tunnel which, after many miles, split, one branch going up, the other down. The upward branch was not long and led to the surface, somewhere along the Spine of the mountain range they were in, the other led deeper, eventually taking them into the underdark. They had barely entered the underdark when they came across a well fed, subterranean plant that did its best to make a meal of them, several members fell to the maddening effect of the plant’s spores, acting quite insanely, gaining the attention of a giant scorpion even as they fought the plant. Their light dwindling after the fight, it was decided the underdark was a bit too dangerous to try to find the dwarven city in and they’d try following the spine instead. The rest of the day was spent retracing their path to the split, going up it and breaching to the surface through the hidden door, making good headway before stumbling upon an old dwarven encampment, devoid of life, but having a few necessities to make camping easier, and more secure.

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Shadow of the Colossus

Resupplied and their resolve strengthened, the Companions left the lonely city of Melakh with a Mage from University Arcanum in Cammen they found in browsing the marketplace of Melakh, seeking clues on the ancient curse as well, and followed the old stone causeway that would lead them to Caer Droghuun, the Capital city of the Dwarven Kingdom. They were assailed along their journey by a trio of ettins, hurling javelins down a rocky slope as the Companions attempted to pass. The fight was brief, and the three giant-kin lay dead, one slain with a single arrow through it’s jaw, buried fletching deep in it’s tiny brain. From the rise where the ettins had camped, they saw a darkening silhouette of a humanoid figured carved into the rocks many miles away in the Stonehaven Mountains, closer to their destination. They made camp and continued along the road, confident it would lead them to the stone behemoth. The next night, partway to the behemoth, they were waylaid in the middle of the night by an orcish hunting party. The companions fended them off, but at great cost, nearly losing a member to the hidden shafts of arrows flying through the blackened night. The next day they traveled the last distance to the foot of the dwarven behemoth, attacked by starving griffons that had once been apart of the dwarves defense of the region. Boran’s pony was the first to be felled, though the griffons in the initial strike fared no better. They camped and struck out, finding a secret entrance in the statue’s foot with a long, widening spiral staircase going up, and up and up, finally reaching a top near the waist of the statue, opening up into a small workshop filled with tools and scraps of decayed leather for creating griffon saddles.

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