Lord of Autumn - At the snap of your fingers, the flames vanish into thin air, and the statue seems to come alive, filling the temple with new light. Its pure white marble, once dull and lifeless, now shines like a beacon of hope for any who enter the holy place. As you gaze around the temple, thoughts of a bygone era flood your mind, when this space would have been abuzz with activity and bustling with community life, a hub of social and spiritual nourishment for the people of Cendriane. But alas, now it stands as a solemn reminder of the tragic events that befell this once-resplendent city.
You stand transfixed, watching as the twisted growths and taint recede from the statue, undone by a simple snap of your fingers. The years of stagnation seem to fall away, replaced by a sense of life and renewal. But beneath the surface, something stirs. You can feel the power shifting, forces long dormant now awakened by your intervention. Waves of trepidation tinged with excitement wash over you as you realise that you have set in motion a chain of events that will bring about great change within this place.
Now the choice falls to you. Shall you seek out and face the unknown forces that stir beneath your feet, or turn away and leave the temple to its stagnation, preparing to return at a later date?
Visage enlightened by the now resplendent statue, the Lord of Autumn closes his eyes and breathes in deeply. Only a moment passes before he clasps his hands and exclaims "HOOOOO!!! BeholdNikita Tantsora of the Faerie Kingdom of Celene on Oerth, for there is but one secret in addition to those you have described that laid slumbering underneath." The firbolg laughs with gusto, his bellowing guffaw filling the spacious temple once more with newfound life and energy. The leaves strewn across his back similarly rustle excitedly, rippling as if caught in their own tide of enjoyment at what is to come.
The Lord of Autumn rushes back to the rest of the group, still cackling to himself.
*Clang Clang Swish* *Clang Clang Swish*
He stops in front of the group with a bright smile, his previously solemn and upright demeanor now replaced with something more jovial and warm. His stance no longer erect, but rather now loose, as if ready for something to spring upon him from all about.
"Forsooth, the trapdoor must wait. The Lord of Autumn recommends you all ready yourselves and, should there be no clouds of doubt still present in your hearts, to strike the accord in true. Verily, the investigation beckons our attention."
Boyd shields his eyes as the ashen darkness is dispelled by the bright light of the corruption going up in flames. "Cor, but that's better." He mutters, taking his hand away from his brow as his eyes adjust again to the light. "I reckon that we ought to help." He says to everyone. Turning to the Lord of Autumn, he asks "What did you find?"
Why didn't I think of burning away the filth?Nikita feels abashed at having had her Flaming Sphere burning away in the background for thirty odd seconds doing nothing at the start of the conversation with the Firbolg. Still, Titania's statue and what it represents are enough to make her smile, albeit sheepishly.
She is not sure how an accord with a Firbolg in the Feyrealm should be sealed, so she looks for cues, ready to shake hands or any other such gesture.
"I believe we are all ready to strike an accord, my Lord of Autumn. Lead on. How shall we investigate?"
Faila leaps to her feet to stare at the brilliant statue, her reptilian eyes riveted on its illuminated form. Her feathered hackles raise up on her head and neck, curling at the tips, their brilliant colors reflecting the light.
Like a creature transfixed, she runs to the jubilant firbolg as he returns to the group, the laugh filling his face and frame, the feathers on her limbs and tail seeming to dance and swish in time to the leaf cloak. Something primal and otherworldly seems to connect the feathered beast with one who stewards such things. Any sense of Faila, if one was ever recognizable in the creature she became, seems to have become even more distant.
She opens her jaws looking up at the Lord of Autumn, all her crest feathers slicking back as she makes an imploring sort of squeak, like a baby bird coming to life as its parent returns to the nest.
Afternoon - Day 1 - The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.
A tumultuous wind sweeps throughout the temple as if a great being were drawing in a vast breath. The leaves and blossoms that adorn the Lord of Autumn sway and rustle, as they are taken into the temple's lungs, which are the subterranean passages. Faila's feathers bristle, for she senses that this wind bears ill tidings.
The hall groans and creaks, and roots and stems crack with a deafening noise. The stagnant pools that line the central aisle recede unnaturally, as the corruption that once tainted them retreats from the party. Even the foul stench that pervaded the temple seems to dissipate. The massive vines that obscured the ceiling slither away, like serpents retreating to the room with the trapdoor.
For the first time in ages, sunlight pours into the chamber. The corpses of the yeth hounds sizzle in the light as though aflame, revealing that the fiery orb they truly feared was not conjured by Nikita, but was instead the fey sun. Where the light shines, the darkness recedes. The corruption withdraws to the trapdoor, to the place where the sun holds no sway.
"Lords of Golds, you have dids it!"Aruum exclaims, prostrating himself before the Lord of Autumn. "Blessingses be upon thee, Lord of Golds!"
Aruum's proclamation is interrupted by a resounding clang as the trapdoor slams shut with a violent force. "BEGONE!"a low whisper hisses malevolently. "Thou sssshalt not persssisst. If thou dossst, then thine life ssshall be forfeit. Ye tressspassss!" The ground trembles and shifts before settling into heavy stillness.
Scratching and scrambling resounds through the walls of the temple, as if a multitude of tiny feet were scurrying and positioning themselves, preparing for some imminent action. One could swear they were within the walls, for the sounds of weeping and gnashing of teeth can be distinctly heard.
"No, no, no, no, no," Aruum wails in terror, his small goblin form turning pallid with fright. "Flee, flee, friendses! No hope remainses, only deaths awaits us!"
At the deeply threatening whisper, for a brief moment, Nikita's fears come rushing back. The flight south through the forest from Iuz's lackeys and demons. Watching as her companions were slashed down or captured one by one until she alone fled further still. Through Furyondy, and Veluna, through mountains and forest past Ulek and Keoland to arrive finally at the tiny flyspeck of a fishing village where her retreat met the sea. Saltmarsh.
But Nikita is done running. She draws her rapier once more and takes a defensive stance well away from any wall or hiding place.
"Lord of Autumn, I stand with you. We have a choice to make. You know this place in ways we do not. The decision is yours."
"Indeed," Meresaa intones. Her resolve belies her current status as she continues to struggle to overcome her poisoning.
"We are with you," she reaffirms as she leans on a nearby brazier to support herself. "I don't know what that voice is, but our group is able and willing."
A leg gives out slightly and she quickly catches herself.
"That said... We've seen better days." She smiles uncomfortably.
As the chamber transforms, the firbolg's expression swells with both excitement and determination. His cloak too bristled with equal enthusiasm, seemly cheering through fevered rustling for every inch of stagnation reclaimed by the light. The fey sun now entering the chamber fully, his massive frame stands out amongst the companions in the hall. The ornate, bronze-colored splint mail adorning the Lord of Autumn casts a warm reflection all about, whilst his glaive catches the sun and swings it about from his back.
Nodding to Boyd in a subtle answer regarding the fact that the findings now make themselves apparent all around them, he gives a warm nod as he did the others. As Falia too shifts in her stance and demeanor towards the firbolg, the Lord of Autumn respectfully takes to a knee in front of the lizard-like creature. Looking directly now into the eyes of Falia, he nods similarly in warm, grateful approval, keeping his gaze fixed on her eyes in order to convey some sort of meaning beyond that which could be expressed through words alone.
Rising now, he continues to bask in the glory now returning to the halls. He looks upon Boyd, Falia, Nikita, Meresaa and Aruum with the same gaze of authority and calmness from before. Nodding towards thumbtack in recognition of the bird's previous request, he speaks in clear, deep tones, "... The accord is struck."He smiles a massive grin.
As the transformation completes, he gives a look of approval towards Aruum. Though the interruption did deter the meek creature, the Lord of Autumn seem unmoved by the threat. Instead, he calms leads the crew towards the trapdoor from where the shadows receded to. "Verily, the time to take the offensive is upon us."Drawing his glaive from its holster across his back, the firbolg delivers one last declaration, "Swiftly, cast aside the doubt and fears from your hearts. They will serve you no purpose in that is which to come."
Giving Aruum a sly wink and turning a grin to the others in defiance of the challenge from the trapdoor, the Lord of Autumn grips the weapon towards the bladed end and points it in front of him. As if caught in an invisible breeze yet again, a moddest bunch of leaves flies forth from the ends of his cloak [Mage Hand]. Dancing about, the leaves settle upon the handle and begin to nudge it upright. Heaving now like some imaginary fist, the leaves make effort to open the portal, giving the firbolg the signal to return the threat in kind.
"HOOOOO!!" the firbolg calls out in a proud taunt, "What unfortunate truth has come to be realized in that the Lord of Autumn and associates be compelled to leave these sacred grounds. What authority does this cowardly entity possess when it is known that this temple, in its glorious transformation now houses the Autumnal Court itself. Forsooth, it thinks not to challenge the sovereignty of the Falltide itself. Or does it, with knowledge the foul harvest of stagnation and darkness it has sown now inevitably must be reaped."
The Lord of Autumn's proclamation sends tremors through the temple, dislodging chunks of earth and stone. Responding to his call, the party strides towards the trapdoor with unflinching determination. Dread and unease grip their hearts, yet the Lord of Autumn remains resolute. Poor Aruum fidgets nervously, toying with the baubles and curios adorning his attire, humming an anxious tune under his breath, it is clear he fears the worst.
As they near the trapdoor, the Lord of Autumn attempt to use his cloak of leaves to push it open. But before the foliage can make contact, a noxious wind blasts it aside, unleashing a putrid stench into the newly cleansed great hall. It is clear that the taint and desecration have not been removed entirely. In response to the blasting of the trapdoor, Aruum lets out a piercing shriek and cowers behind his companions, quivering with fear. Beyond the trapdoor lies an abyss of darkness, with rusty rungs clinging to the walls leading downwards, oozing with damp filth.
Descending into the bowels of the temple, the party discovers a labyrinthine corridor branching out from their location. Dim torches flicker feebly from their sconces, casting an eerie glow upon the surroundings, and causing shadows to dance. Though the area appears ancient, the torches themselves seem freshly lit, barely consumed. Underfoot, the ground is slick with a disgusting mire of rotting vegetation, moss, and slime. Malicious black vines with thorny barbs entwine the walls.
Dark chanting rises, foul words borne on a foul wind. Its cadence undulates rhythmically, seeming to emanate from the north, though this could be a deception. The words are foul and twisted, spoken in a language that is barely recognisable as anything spoken by mortals. The voices blend together in an eerie chorus, their intonation shifting in and out of coherence with the melody. The sound is unnerving as if it is emanating from a place beyond the realm of the living. It seems to echo through the temple's subterranean passages, reverberating off the walls and causing the very air to tremble with its intensity. Despite its alien quality, there is a sense of purpose and conviction behind the chanting, as if the chanters truly believe that their words will reach the ears of their dark queen and bring about her terrible power.
"Carefuls!" Aruum warns, pointing to the ground where fresh footprints and strange slither marks are squelched into the mud and muck. "Whatever mades this ain't goods, no sir! Ain't no goods at all."
"Northward, I sense movement,"Thumbtack hisses to the group. "Are we certain we desire to confront the current inhabitants of this place with such a direct approach?"
Courage friend. Stay tight to me, quick forays only if it comes to battle, returning always to safety. (Nikita thinks to Thumbtack telepathically) Are you able to identify what type of creatures we face and how many?
Still, with quiet conviction to the party, she urges: "Stay strong, friends. We did not strike an accord with the Lord of Autumn nor descend into this corrupted pit just to turn tail now. Stay well clear of the vines on the walls and do not give in to their attempts to frighten us."
Strangely, she cuts 7-8' of rope from her pack and ties it about her waist. (In preparation to cast Rope Trick as an emergency means of temporary escape for the entire party, but she does not yet suggest this as a possible or necessary eventual course of action to the others).
She looks to the feathered reptile that Faila beside her. "You, I and the Lord of Autumn with his glaive should take the brunt of the attack and protect the others so they can fight from the rear. You and he seem tough and I can be hard to hit." (Voice low, hoping Faila understands).
Suiting her own words, Nikita steps northward (or whatever direction helps shield the rest of the party). She balances on the balls of her feet, ready to start her bladesong and cast a spell even before battle starts. Which spell may depend on Thumbtack's answer as to the number and nature of the enemy.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
The Lord of Autumn listens to Nikita as she gives the report and nods in agreement. Taking care, he kneels down next to the footprints, trying too to discern in the nature of the foes. His hand quivers slightly as he studies the tracks lit by torchlight. [Guidance]
Survival Check to get an understand of bearing and insight about the footprints: 23
After taking some time to study the prints, he stands up and provides words of comfort to the crew, "Verily, fear not the darkness, for its reckoning is due by Falltide's hand. Its stranglehold o'er this domain shall not persist whilst the Lord of Autumn and his associates take watch." As he speaks, he gives another snap of his fingers, creating a bonfire in the middle of the chamber to better illuminate the chamber. [Create Bonfire]
"The shadows are alive with dread, Nikita," Thumbtack's voice trembles with fear. "There are shapes, like flying pixies, but something wicked emanates from them, an abomination to the living. They cling to the darkness, exuding malice and hatred from their very being."
The grotesque image of Thumbtack's description sends shivers down your spine. Though you have not encountered such creatures before, you know that the feyrealm is not limited to the living. Dark, malevolent beings lurking in the shadows, embodying hatred and wickedness, can often be counted among the fey, including the undead. Surely, such creatures are the subject of nightmares rather than fairytales. The tracks left behind by these creatures suggest they are not the culprits responsible for the footprints.
"It appears our arrival has yet to be noticed,"Thumbtack remarks, her tone laced with relief. "Their presence has vanished from my view."
The footprints, fresh and discernible, trace a route that mimics a patrol's path. They run from the west, heading eastward in a circular motion, marking the path of the watchful eye. You realise that any delay on your part could lead to an encounter with the patrolling entity. Though risky, you perceive an opportunity in the patrol's predictable route. By analyzing the pattern of the footprints, you discern a chance to lay an ambush for the patrol. It could prove perilous, but the reward for success might be worth the risk.
The tracks before you bear the telltale signs of serpent folk, their unmistakable slither marks coiling alongside fresh footprints. These vile creatures are known to possess a venomous bite and an arsenal of deadly darts at their disposal, capable of rendering their prey helpless. Moreover, they are reputed for their uncanny ability to assume any humanoid form they choose, making them formidable foes indeed.
Arcana check to try and discern what kind of foliage we're seeing growing over everything, whether it's from the planar leak or just regular old evil magic fey plants spurred by even more evil fey magic. Also, whether or not it appears dangerous: 26 (rolled with Avrae)
Stay strong and stay close, friend. Our terror avails us not.Nikita tries to overcome Thumbtack's fear as much as her own. She whispers to everyone:
"Thumbtack sensed shadowy creatures, perhaps fey like pixies, perhaps undead, certainly evil. In the darkness and now out of sight again, not having noticed us. Likely not what left the footprints." She looks to the others, especially the Lord of Autumn and Meresaa to check their opinion.
(Attempting be as quiet and keep as low a profile as possible to avoid notice).
The atmosphere in this place reeks of decay and putrefaction. The dark, damp foliage drips with an unmistakable aura of malevolence. There's nothing natural about the leaves or vines that enshroud this ancient temple. Yet, there's something more insidious going on here. You are not well-versed in the intricacies of this plane of existence, but you can tell that many of the plants that adorn this place are not of this world.
As you reflect on your journey from Fey Prospect, you realise that much of the entropy that supposedly defines this plane has been receding. The stagnant vegetation around you is a testament to that. A thought occurs to you, a hypothesis that could explain what's happening - If the barrier between the Feyrealm and Oerth was eroding and causing radical changes in the latter, could a similar process be occurring here? Could the merging of planes be happening on a much grander scale? What would be the outcome if a realm that thrived on constant flux and mutability suddenly became static and motionless?
Now bathed in the bonfire's light, the Lord of Autumn takes another sharp look at the footprints before gazing back upon Nikita and Thumbtack. He nods and speaks in hushed tones as well, acknowledging the tact she's displayed in keeping to a quiet profile, "Behold, the warning from Nikita Tantsora of the Faerie Kingdom of Celene on Oerth rings true. The fresh tracks across this bourne speaks to that of a patrol though this chamber and beyond into darkness."
He points to a set of muddled tracks where footprints seem to drag upon the cold, damp floor, "Worse, yet, the adversary that lay in wait appears to be that of serpentine birth."A rare grin stretches upon his face, "Admirable for their shapeshifting though rarely of benevolent demeanor, there is high chance we face an adversary dealing in venomous arsenals, by both tooth and tool. Forsooth, expect wicked and vile poisons that may render one helpless should their fortitude not prove to be infallible."
Quickly scanning about the chamber, the firbolg begins to pace about the tracks. Stopping suddenly, he points to two separate locations along the path of the patrol and continues, "Hark, for advantageous positions can be attained should the Lord of Autumn and associates wish to engage. Given that the foe would seek combat with the preset advantages described, it would be wise to tip the odds in the favor of this company."He looks upon the group, "The Lord of Autumn will hear to council for this motion."
"Ambush." Nikita breathes, her livid facial scar and dark blue eyes looking almost feral in the light of the bonfire as she responds.
"I agree, my Lord of Autumn. Yet I feel it is important to choose but a single spot and stay close to each other so the enemy cannot separate us. While this may leave us all subject to adverse effects that target an area, it allows us to support one another, and for Lady Meresaa's device to help bolster the health of all allies in its immediate proximity as it has already."
She moves quietly to whichever of the spots the Firbolg indicates that looks most advantageous, standing in a position of frontline defense.
From Nikita's shoulder, she asks Thumbtack to continue to scanning for the approach of any adversaries using her keen hearing and sight.
Mist and murk cloak Thumbtack's sight, adding an eerie ambience to the already sinister atmosphere. She peers down the dimly lit corridors, scanning for any signs of evil lurking in the shadows.
"I'm not certain, Nikita,"she whispers, her voice barely audible. "There's faint candlelight up ahead, but no discernible figures...wait!"
A wet slithering sound echoes from the west, drawing closer with each passing moment. The candlelights flicker, casting ominous shadows along the walls. "Something approaches," she hisses urgently. "We have mere seconds to flee or hide!"
As Thumbtack relays the urgent message warning of creatures coming near, Nikita whispers as she quickly ushers her allies into an ambush spot:
"No time to waste. Slithering creatures approach, likely Lord of Autumn's serpentine adversaries. Quickly, into the corner there! Quiet and still, everyone, then ambush." Nikita hopes they all understand, but then she thinks of the dinosaur, unsure whether she understands speech. Frantically, she tries to pantomime a waiting, then pouncing all together gesture to sauro-avian Faila, hoping that such a mode of attack might even be instinctive!
She urges her allies into position in the northwest corner, hoping to set up an ambush as the oncoming creatures enter the room. Lord of Autumn, Faila and Nikita (with Thumbtack on her shoulder) in the frontline with Meresaa, Boyd and Aruum behind (north of) them.
If she has time, Nikita also casts Protection from Evil and Good on herself, hoping to save her final bladesong for a later foe.
Lord of Autumn - At the snap of your fingers, the flames vanish into thin air, and the statue seems to come alive, filling the temple with new light. Its pure white marble, once dull and lifeless, now shines like a beacon of hope for any who enter the holy place. As you gaze around the temple, thoughts of a bygone era flood your mind, when this space would have been abuzz with activity and bustling with community life, a hub of social and spiritual nourishment for the people of Cendriane. But alas, now it stands as a solemn reminder of the tragic events that befell this once-resplendent city.
Lord of Autumn's Investigation check:
You stand transfixed, watching as the twisted growths and taint recede from the statue, undone by a simple snap of your fingers. The years of stagnation seem to fall away, replaced by a sense of life and renewal. But beneath the surface, something stirs. You can feel the power shifting, forces long dormant now awakened by your intervention. Waves of trepidation tinged with excitement wash over you as you realise that you have set in motion a chain of events that will bring about great change within this place.
Now the choice falls to you. Shall you seek out and face the unknown forces that stir beneath your feet, or turn away and leave the temple to its stagnation, preparing to return at a later date?
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
Visage enlightened by the now resplendent statue, the Lord of Autumn closes his eyes and breathes in deeply. Only a moment passes before he clasps his hands and exclaims "HOOOOO!!! Behold Nikita Tantsora of the Faerie Kingdom of Celene on Oerth, for there is but one secret in addition to those you have described that laid slumbering underneath." The firbolg laughs with gusto, his bellowing guffaw filling the spacious temple once more with newfound life and energy. The leaves strewn across his back similarly rustle excitedly, rippling as if caught in their own tide of enjoyment at what is to come.
The Lord of Autumn rushes back to the rest of the group, still cackling to himself.
*Clang Clang Swish* *Clang Clang Swish*
He stops in front of the group with a bright smile, his previously solemn and upright demeanor now replaced with something more jovial and warm. His stance no longer erect, but rather now loose, as if ready for something to spring upon him from all about.
"Forsooth, the trapdoor must wait. The Lord of Autumn recommends you all ready yourselves and, should there be no clouds of doubt still present in your hearts, to strike the accord in true. Verily, the investigation beckons our attention."
Boyd shields his eyes as the ashen darkness is dispelled by the bright light of the corruption going up in flames. "Cor, but that's better." He mutters, taking his hand away from his brow as his eyes adjust again to the light. "I reckon that we ought to help." He says to everyone. Turning to the Lord of Autumn, he asks "What did you find?"
Why didn't I think of burning away the filth? Nikita feels abashed at having had her Flaming Sphere burning away in the background for thirty odd seconds doing nothing at the start of the conversation with the Firbolg. Still, Titania's statue and what it represents are enough to make her smile, albeit sheepishly.
She is not sure how an accord with a Firbolg in the Feyrealm should be sealed, so she looks for cues, ready to shake hands or any other such gesture.
"I believe we are all ready to strike an accord, my Lord of Autumn. Lead on. How shall we investigate?"
Tanis(Ranger1): Shiverquill's Tempest City | Xarian(Fighter2): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(TwilightCleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(ShepherdDruid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Ophelia(WildMagicSorcerer4): Ashen_Age's Risen from the Sands
Joren(EchoKnightFighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Sabetha(MercyMonk3): Bedlymn's Murder Court | Seri(NatureCleric3/DivineSoulSorcerer1): Bartjeebus' Greyhawk
Faila leaps to her feet to stare at the brilliant statue, her reptilian eyes riveted on its illuminated form. Her feathered hackles raise up on her head and neck, curling at the tips, their brilliant colors reflecting the light.
Like a creature transfixed, she runs to the jubilant firbolg as he returns to the group, the laugh filling his face and frame, the feathers on her limbs and tail seeming to dance and swish in time to the leaf cloak. Something primal and otherworldly seems to connect the feathered beast with one who stewards such things. Any sense of Faila, if one was ever recognizable in the creature she became, seems to have become even more distant.
She opens her jaws looking up at the Lord of Autumn, all her crest feathers slicking back as she makes an imploring sort of squeak, like a baby bird coming to life as its parent returns to the nest.
Afternoon - Day 1 - The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.
A tumultuous wind sweeps throughout the temple as if a great being were drawing in a vast breath. The leaves and blossoms that adorn the Lord of Autumn sway and rustle, as they are taken into the temple's lungs, which are the subterranean passages. Faila's feathers bristle, for she senses that this wind bears ill tidings.
The hall groans and creaks, and roots and stems crack with a deafening noise. The stagnant pools that line the central aisle recede unnaturally, as the corruption that once tainted them retreats from the party. Even the foul stench that pervaded the temple seems to dissipate. The massive vines that obscured the ceiling slither away, like serpents retreating to the room with the trapdoor.
For the first time in ages, sunlight pours into the chamber. The corpses of the yeth hounds sizzle in the light as though aflame, revealing that the fiery orb they truly feared was not conjured by Nikita, but was instead the fey sun. Where the light shines, the darkness recedes. The corruption withdraws to the trapdoor, to the place where the sun holds no sway.
"Lords of Golds, you have dids it!" Aruum exclaims, prostrating himself before the Lord of Autumn. "Blessingses be upon thee, Lord of Golds!"
Aruum's proclamation is interrupted by a resounding clang as the trapdoor slams shut with a violent force. "BEGONE!" a low whisper hisses malevolently. "Thou sssshalt not persssisst. If thou dossst, then thine life ssshall be forfeit. Ye tressspassss!" The ground trembles and shifts before settling into heavy stillness.
Scratching and scrambling resounds through the walls of the temple, as if a multitude of tiny feet were scurrying and positioning themselves, preparing for some imminent action. One could swear they were within the walls, for the sounds of weeping and gnashing of teeth can be distinctly heard.
"No, no, no, no, no," Aruum wails in terror, his small goblin form turning pallid with fright. "Flee, flee, friendses! No hope remainses, only deaths awaits us!"
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
At the deeply threatening whisper, for a brief moment, Nikita's fears come rushing back. The flight south through the forest from Iuz's lackeys and demons. Watching as her companions were slashed down or captured one by one until she alone fled further still. Through Furyondy, and Veluna, through mountains and forest past Ulek and Keoland to arrive finally at the tiny flyspeck of a fishing village where her retreat met the sea. Saltmarsh.
But Nikita is done running. She draws her rapier once more and takes a defensive stance well away from any wall or hiding place.
"Lord of Autumn, I stand with you. We have a choice to make. You know this place in ways we do not. The decision is yours."
Tanis(Ranger1): Shiverquill's Tempest City | Xarian(Fighter2): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(TwilightCleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(ShepherdDruid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Ophelia(WildMagicSorcerer4): Ashen_Age's Risen from the Sands
Joren(EchoKnightFighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Sabetha(MercyMonk3): Bedlymn's Murder Court | Seri(NatureCleric3/DivineSoulSorcerer1): Bartjeebus' Greyhawk
"Indeed," Meresaa intones. Her resolve belies her current status as she continues to struggle to overcome her poisoning.
"We are with you," she reaffirms as she leans on a nearby brazier to support herself. "I don't know what that voice is, but our group is able and willing."
A leg gives out slightly and she quickly catches herself.
"That said... We've seen better days." She smiles uncomfortably.
Characters currently being ruined on this forum:
Neria Tallfellow (Halfling Rogue) - Curse of the Crimson Throne with Ashen_Age
As the chamber transforms, the firbolg's expression swells with both excitement and determination. His cloak too bristled with equal enthusiasm, seemly cheering through fevered rustling for every inch of stagnation reclaimed by the light. The fey sun now entering the chamber fully, his massive frame stands out amongst the companions in the hall. The ornate, bronze-colored splint mail adorning the Lord of Autumn casts a warm reflection all about, whilst his glaive catches the sun and swings it about from his back.
Nodding to Boyd in a subtle answer regarding the fact that the findings now make themselves apparent all around them, he gives a warm nod as he did the others. As Falia too shifts in her stance and demeanor towards the firbolg, the Lord of Autumn respectfully takes to a knee in front of the lizard-like creature. Looking directly now into the eyes of Falia, he nods similarly in warm, grateful approval, keeping his gaze fixed on her eyes in order to convey some sort of meaning beyond that which could be expressed through words alone.
Rising now, he continues to bask in the glory now returning to the halls. He looks upon Boyd, Falia, Nikita, Meresaa and Aruum with the same gaze of authority and calmness from before. Nodding towards thumbtack in recognition of the bird's previous request, he speaks in clear, deep tones, "... The accord is struck." He smiles a massive grin.
As the transformation completes, he gives a look of approval towards Aruum. Though the interruption did deter the meek creature, the Lord of Autumn seem unmoved by the threat. Instead, he calms leads the crew towards the trapdoor from where the shadows receded to. "Verily, the time to take the offensive is upon us." Drawing his glaive from its holster across his back, the firbolg delivers one last declaration, "Swiftly, cast aside the doubt and fears from your hearts. They will serve you no purpose in that is which to come."
Giving Aruum a sly wink and turning a grin to the others in defiance of the challenge from the trapdoor, the Lord of Autumn grips the weapon towards the bladed end and points it in front of him. As if caught in an invisible breeze yet again, a moddest bunch of leaves flies forth from the ends of his cloak [Mage Hand]. Dancing about, the leaves settle upon the handle and begin to nudge it upright. Heaving now like some imaginary fist, the leaves make effort to open the portal, giving the firbolg the signal to return the threat in kind.
"HOOOOO!!" the firbolg calls out in a proud taunt, "What unfortunate truth has come to be realized in that the Lord of Autumn and associates be compelled to leave these sacred grounds. What authority does this cowardly entity possess when it is known that this temple, in its glorious transformation now houses the Autumnal Court itself. Forsooth, it thinks not to challenge the sovereignty of the Falltide itself. Or does it, with knowledge the foul harvest of stagnation and darkness it has sown now inevitably must be reaped."
Afternoon - Day 1 - Deeper Underground
The Lord of Autumn's proclamation sends tremors through the temple, dislodging chunks of earth and stone. Responding to his call, the party strides towards the trapdoor with unflinching determination. Dread and unease grip their hearts, yet the Lord of Autumn remains resolute. Poor Aruum fidgets nervously, toying with the baubles and curios adorning his attire, humming an anxious tune under his breath, it is clear he fears the worst.
As they near the trapdoor, the Lord of Autumn attempt to use his cloak of leaves to push it open. But before the foliage can make contact, a noxious wind blasts it aside, unleashing a putrid stench into the newly cleansed great hall. It is clear that the taint and desecration have not been removed entirely. In response to the blasting of the trapdoor, Aruum lets out a piercing shriek and cowers behind his companions, quivering with fear. Beyond the trapdoor lies an abyss of darkness, with rusty rungs clinging to the walls leading downwards, oozing with damp filth.
Descending into the bowels of the temple, the party discovers a labyrinthine corridor branching out from their location. Dim torches flicker feebly from their sconces, casting an eerie glow upon the surroundings, and causing shadows to dance. Though the area appears ancient, the torches themselves seem freshly lit, barely consumed. Underfoot, the ground is slick with a disgusting mire of rotting vegetation, moss, and slime. Malicious black vines with thorny barbs entwine the walls.
Dark chanting rises, foul words borne on a foul wind. Its cadence undulates rhythmically, seeming to emanate from the north, though this could be a deception. The words are foul and twisted, spoken in a language that is barely recognisable as anything spoken by mortals. The voices blend together in an eerie chorus, their intonation shifting in and out of coherence with the melody. The sound is unnerving as if it is emanating from a place beyond the realm of the living. It seems to echo through the temple's subterranean passages, reverberating off the walls and causing the very air to tremble with its intensity. Despite its alien quality, there is a sense of purpose and conviction behind the chanting, as if the chanters truly believe that their words will reach the ears of their dark queen and bring about her terrible power.
"Carefuls!" Aruum warns, pointing to the ground where fresh footprints and strange slither marks are squelched into the mud and muck. "Whatever mades this ain't goods, no sir! Ain't no goods at all."
"Northward, I sense movement," Thumbtack hisses to the group. "Are we certain we desire to confront the current inhabitants of this place with such a direct approach?"
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
Courage friend. Stay tight to me, quick forays only if it comes to battle, returning always to safety. (Nikita thinks to Thumbtack telepathically) Are you able to identify what type of creatures we face and how many?
She herself is unsure of the enemy's Nature: 11
Still, with quiet conviction to the party, she urges: "Stay strong, friends. We did not strike an accord with the Lord of Autumn nor descend into this corrupted pit just to turn tail now. Stay well clear of the vines on the walls and do not give in to their attempts to frighten us."
Strangely, she cuts 7-8' of rope from her pack and ties it about her waist. (In preparation to cast Rope Trick as an emergency means of temporary escape for the entire party, but she does not yet suggest this as a possible or necessary eventual course of action to the others).
She looks to the feathered reptile that Faila beside her. "You, I and the Lord of Autumn with his glaive should take the brunt of the attack and protect the others so they can fight from the rear. You and he seem tough and I can be hard to hit." (Voice low, hoping Faila understands).
Suiting her own words, Nikita steps northward (or whatever direction helps shield the rest of the party). She balances on the balls of her feet, ready to start her bladesong and cast a spell even before battle starts. Which spell may depend on Thumbtack's answer as to the number and nature of the enemy.
Tanis(Ranger1): Shiverquill's Tempest City | Xarian(Fighter2): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(TwilightCleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(ShepherdDruid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Ophelia(WildMagicSorcerer4): Ashen_Age's Risen from the Sands
Joren(EchoKnightFighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Sabetha(MercyMonk3): Bedlymn's Murder Court | Seri(NatureCleric3/DivineSoulSorcerer1): Bartjeebus' Greyhawk
The Lord of Autumn listens to Nikita as she gives the report and nods in agreement. Taking care, he kneels down next to the footprints, trying too to discern in the nature of the foes. His hand quivers slightly as he studies the tracks lit by torchlight. [Guidance]
Survival Check to get an understand of bearing and insight about the footprints: 23
After taking some time to study the prints, he stands up and provides words of comfort to the crew, "Verily, fear not the darkness, for its reckoning is due by Falltide's hand. Its stranglehold o'er this domain shall not persist whilst the Lord of Autumn and his associates take watch." As he speaks, he gives another snap of his fingers, creating a bonfire in the middle of the chamber to better illuminate the chamber. [Create Bonfire]
Nikita's Nature check:
"The shadows are alive with dread, Nikita," Thumbtack's voice trembles with fear. "There are shapes, like flying pixies, but something wicked emanates from them, an abomination to the living. They cling to the darkness, exuding malice and hatred from their very being."
The grotesque image of Thumbtack's description sends shivers down your spine. Though you have not encountered such creatures before, you know that the feyrealm is not limited to the living. Dark, malevolent beings lurking in the shadows, embodying hatred and wickedness, can often be counted among the fey, including the undead. Surely, such creatures are the subject of nightmares rather than fairytales. The tracks left behind by these creatures suggest they are not the culprits responsible for the footprints.
"It appears our arrival has yet to be noticed," Thumbtack remarks, her tone laced with relief. "Their presence has vanished from my view."
Lord of Autumn's Survival check:
Holy Crit!
The footprints, fresh and discernible, trace a route that mimics a patrol's path. They run from the west, heading eastward in a circular motion, marking the path of the watchful eye. You realise that any delay on your part could lead to an encounter with the patrolling entity. Though risky, you perceive an opportunity in the patrol's predictable route. By analyzing the pattern of the footprints, you discern a chance to lay an ambush for the patrol. It could prove perilous, but the reward for success might be worth the risk.
The tracks before you bear the telltale signs of serpent folk, their unmistakable slither marks coiling alongside fresh footprints. These vile creatures are known to possess a venomous bite and an arsenal of deadly darts at their disposal, capable of rendering their prey helpless. Moreover, they are reputed for their uncanny ability to assume any humanoid form they choose, making them formidable foes indeed.
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
Arcana check to try and discern what kind of foliage we're seeing growing over everything, whether it's from the planar leak or just regular old evil magic fey plants spurred by even more evil fey magic. Also, whether or not it appears dangerous: 26 (rolled with Avrae)
Characters currently being ruined on this forum:
Neria Tallfellow (Halfling Rogue) - Curse of the Crimson Throne with Ashen_Age
Stay strong and stay close, friend. Our terror avails us not. Nikita tries to overcome Thumbtack's fear as much as her own. She whispers to everyone:
"Thumbtack sensed shadowy creatures, perhaps fey like pixies, perhaps undead, certainly evil. In the darkness and now out of sight again, not having noticed us. Likely not what left the footprints." She looks to the others, especially the Lord of Autumn and Meresaa to check their opinion.
(Attempting be as quiet and keep as low a profile as possible to avoid notice).
Tanis(Ranger1): Shiverquill's Tempest City | Xarian(Fighter2): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(TwilightCleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(ShepherdDruid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Ophelia(WildMagicSorcerer4): Ashen_Age's Risen from the Sands
Joren(EchoKnightFighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Sabetha(MercyMonk3): Bedlymn's Murder Court | Seri(NatureCleric3/DivineSoulSorcerer1): Bartjeebus' Greyhawk
Meresaa's Arcana check:
The atmosphere in this place reeks of decay and putrefaction. The dark, damp foliage drips with an unmistakable aura of malevolence. There's nothing natural about the leaves or vines that enshroud this ancient temple. Yet, there's something more insidious going on here. You are not well-versed in the intricacies of this plane of existence, but you can tell that many of the plants that adorn this place are not of this world.
As you reflect on your journey from Fey Prospect, you realise that much of the entropy that supposedly defines this plane has been receding. The stagnant vegetation around you is a testament to that. A thought occurs to you, a hypothesis that could explain what's happening - If the barrier between the Feyrealm and Oerth was eroding and causing radical changes in the latter, could a similar process be occurring here? Could the merging of planes be happening on a much grander scale? What would be the outcome if a realm that thrived on constant flux and mutability suddenly became static and motionless?
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
Now bathed in the bonfire's light, the Lord of Autumn takes another sharp look at the footprints before gazing back upon Nikita and Thumbtack. He nods and speaks in hushed tones as well, acknowledging the tact she's displayed in keeping to a quiet profile, "Behold, the warning from Nikita Tantsora of the Faerie Kingdom of Celene on Oerth rings true. The fresh tracks across this bourne speaks to that of a patrol though this chamber and beyond into darkness."
He points to a set of muddled tracks where footprints seem to drag upon the cold, damp floor, "Worse, yet, the adversary that lay in wait appears to be that of serpentine birth." A rare grin stretches upon his face, "Admirable for their shapeshifting though rarely of benevolent demeanor, there is high chance we face an adversary dealing in venomous arsenals, by both tooth and tool. Forsooth, expect wicked and vile poisons that may render one helpless should their fortitude not prove to be infallible."
Quickly scanning about the chamber, the firbolg begins to pace about the tracks. Stopping suddenly, he points to two separate locations along the path of the patrol and continues, "Hark, for advantageous positions can be attained should the Lord of Autumn and associates wish to engage. Given that the foe would seek combat with the preset advantages described, it would be wise to tip the odds in the favor of this company." He looks upon the group, "The Lord of Autumn will hear to council for this motion."
"Ambush." Nikita breathes, her livid facial scar and dark blue eyes looking almost feral in the light of the bonfire as she responds.
"I agree, my Lord of Autumn. Yet I feel it is important to choose but a single spot and stay close to each other so the enemy cannot separate us. While this may leave us all subject to adverse effects that target an area, it allows us to support one another, and for Lady Meresaa's device to help bolster the health of all allies in its immediate proximity as it has already."
She moves quietly to whichever of the spots the Firbolg indicates that looks most advantageous, standing in a position of frontline defense.
From Nikita's shoulder, she asks Thumbtack to continue to scanning for the approach of any adversaries using her keen hearing and sight.
Thumbtack Perception: 18
Tanis(Ranger1): Shiverquill's Tempest City | Xarian(Fighter2): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(TwilightCleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(ShepherdDruid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Ophelia(WildMagicSorcerer4): Ashen_Age's Risen from the Sands
Joren(EchoKnightFighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Sabetha(MercyMonk3): Bedlymn's Murder Court | Seri(NatureCleric3/DivineSoulSorcerer1): Bartjeebus' Greyhawk
Nikita's Perception Check:
Mist and murk cloak Thumbtack's sight, adding an eerie ambience to the already sinister atmosphere. She peers down the dimly lit corridors, scanning for any signs of evil lurking in the shadows.
"I'm not certain, Nikita," she whispers, her voice barely audible. "There's faint candlelight up ahead, but no discernible figures...wait!"
A wet slithering sound echoes from the west, drawing closer with each passing moment. The candlelights flicker, casting ominous shadows along the walls. "Something approaches," she hisses urgently. "We have mere seconds to flee or hide!"
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
As Thumbtack relays the urgent message warning of creatures coming near, Nikita whispers as she quickly ushers her allies into an ambush spot:
"No time to waste. Slithering creatures approach, likely Lord of Autumn's serpentine adversaries. Quickly, into the corner there! Quiet and still, everyone, then ambush." Nikita hopes they all understand, but then she thinks of the dinosaur, unsure whether she understands speech. Frantically, she tries to pantomime a waiting, then pouncing all together gesture to sauro-avian Faila, hoping that such a mode of attack might even be instinctive!
She urges her allies into position in the northwest corner, hoping to set up an ambush as the oncoming creatures enter the room. Lord of Autumn, Faila and Nikita (with Thumbtack on her shoulder) in the frontline with Meresaa, Boyd and Aruum behind (north of) them.
If she has time, Nikita also casts Protection from Evil and Good on herself, hoping to save her final bladesong for a later foe.
Tanis(Ranger1): Shiverquill's Tempest City | Xarian(Fighter2): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(TwilightCleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(ShepherdDruid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Ophelia(WildMagicSorcerer4): Ashen_Age's Risen from the Sands
Joren(EchoKnightFighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Sabetha(MercyMonk3): Bedlymn's Murder Court | Seri(NatureCleric3/DivineSoulSorcerer1): Bartjeebus' Greyhawk