Bridgette clarifies that vast majorityof the 'wild' undead won't be a problem, her warning is mostly just so you don't let your guard down on the off-chance something unpleasant rears its head.
"They aren't his 'subjects,'" Bridgette sighs. "They have no loyalty to him, or anything else. They are, to quote my Lord, 'echoes of the Calamity,' whatever that means... If we are forced to slay any in self-defense, my Lord will not hold it against us."
She scratches her head when Korba mentions that maybe it would be a good idea to let Lord Akkron know that you're coming. Apparently, the thought hadn't even occurred to her...
"Ummm... yes, we could actually... I guess I didn't really think 'bout it since I tend to wander in and out whenever I feel like it and deal with the undead if I have to..."
You suddenly realize why the mayor said Bridgette isn't the sharpest tool in the shed.
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Unhappy that the market got rid of individual purchases for one-off subclasses, magic items, and monsters?
Bridgette clarifies that vast majorityof the 'wild' undead won't be a problem, her warning is mostly just so you don't let your guard down on the off-chance something unpleasant rears its head.
"They aren't his 'subjects,'" Bridgette sighs. "They have no loyalty to him, or anything else. They are, to quote my Lord, 'echoes of the Calamity,' whatever that means... If we are forced to slay any in self-defense, my Lord will not hold it against us."
That explanation mollifies Hewelathan. He is curious about 'the Calamity,' but he waits until they're on their way before asking her more about it or what it could refer to.
"Ummm... yes, we could actually... I guess I didn't really think 'bout it since I tend to wander in and out whenever I feel like it and deal with the undead if I have to..."
You suddenly realize why the mayor said Bridgette isn't the sharpest tool in the shed.
Hewlathan says, "Good idea, Korba." As he looks Korba, he gives him a look, raised eyebrows but with a carefully neutral mouth, expressing a mixture of surprise and disbelief and concern that this is their guide through the dangerous ruins teeming with undead. 😮🙄🤯
Hewelathan finally takes some time to prepare spells for the day, choosing Protection from Evil and Good (just in case), Moonbeam (for the radiant damage), and Lesser Restoration (in case they face a creature or hazard that paralyzes or poisons someone). He's now ready to head to the meeting with Lord Akkron.
Rhaenysstiffles a laugh when she sees Hewelathanand Korbainterchanging looks after what Bridgette has said, and then simply adds:
- Well, if any undead other than Lord Akkron tries to come and greet us we'll be more than ready to deal with them, right, guys? Though I wonder about that temple of Boccob. If there are wizards there, there's bound to be some teleport circle, don't you think? You know wizards, why would they even lift a finger having the possibility to do everything with magic?
"Look who's talking....", Stafford whispers.
At this Rhaenys, who was drinking her morning tea holding the steaming cup with a spectral hand instead of using her own hand, looks towards her staff, sticks her tongue at it and then says:
- This doesn't count! Anyway, let's get going, yes... - This time she does her hand to chill the cup of tea and finish it quicker. Then she stands up and says - ...pretty sure those wizards wouldn't let us use a teleportation circle even if they had one leading directly to Lord Akkron's. Ready when you are. - she finishes.
Regarding a teleportation circle directly into Lord Akkron's citadel... no, there isn't one. That would be a serious liability if an enemy figured out the sigil to teleport in.
If you wish to contact Lord Akkron before you depart, Bridgette pulls out a tome and scribbles some notes in it in some kind of arcane script that you cannot read. The writing disappears within moments of her writing it... and then a new message in a similar arcane script appears on the page. Bridgette takes a moment to read it.
"My Lord is willing to meet us here if you would prefer not to traverse the ruins," she says after a moment. "Since he doesn't drink ale... or anything else... he suggested that the temple of Boccob would be a suitable meeting place... huh, guess that just goes to show you never know until you ask..."
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“That is a very handy book you have there,” Korba says as Bridgette explains. He then adds, “And it is very generous of him to be willing to meet us. I’m sure that would be preferable than having to deal with hordes of undead, regardless of how ‘tame’ they may, or may not, be.”
Rhaenysmakes a sad face when Bridgette says that Lord Akkron doesn't drink anything ale nor anything else. "How can anyone live... or *unlive* ... like that !?", the changeling wonders. Then she giggles at her own pun.
"......Thank goodness I'm the only one here that can hear your thoughts."
The still human-looking changeling rolls her eyes, and then addresses the rest.
- Clerics and wizards instead of wild undead? Sounds good to me! It's very thoughtful of your Lord - From what they've heard of Lord Akkron so far, he certainly sounds nicer than the average lord. And extermely nicer than the average lich.
Hewelathan returns from preparing spells for a trek across the undead-infested ruins only to learn that they're instead going to the temple of Boccob. 😑 He has all of his gear with him, and he's ready to depart.
(OOC: I don't remember whether the temple is inside the town walls.)
If the Temple of Boccob is inside of the town walls, Hewelathan says, "I thought that Bridgette said that it's uncomfortable for Lord Akkron to come into the the town. I mean, I'll be happy not to cross the ruins, but we do plan to seek Lord Akkron's assistance. Maybe it's not a good idea to start off by inconveniencing him? " But if it's already decided, then he's happy to head to the temple. He recommends that everyone bring all of their gear: "Based on our recent experience, the cultists could show up at any moment. We should always be ready to fight or flee. There's no guarantee that we'll be able to come back here after the meeting."
"Uhhh... yeah, it is," Bridgette says. "I guess whatever is going on with you folks is pretty important... for the most part if someone needs to pay him a visit we just offer them some additional security on the off-chance that something dead sets its sights on them, which is the other reason I really didn't think to send him a message about the fact that you were here since there normally wouldn't be too much for him to do on his end..."
(Regarding the temple's location, it's near the edge of the town, but it is within the walls and, presumably, the protective barrier that keeps the undead out. Sorry about letting Hewelathan prep all his anti-undead spells for nothing)
The party arrives at the Temple of Boccob without incident.
The temple itself looks incredibly ancient, but also well maintained by the dutiful priests of this deity that most of you have never heard of. It must have been quite grand in its glory days.
The priests and scholars pay you little mind as you file into the library, most of them absorbed in various ancient tomes. One of the Clerics shows you to a cozy corner of the library where you can await the arrival of the island's Lord.
For about two hours you wait (you're free to browse the library's tomes if you wish). Then, the temple's doors creak open, revealing a figure...
There is little left of the ancient being now but dusty bones, draped in a gray robe that billows around him in an unearthly breeze that no one else can feel. He leans heavily on a black staff that appears to be made of polished stone as his empty eye sockets observe the library. Several of the scholars look up in surprise to see the Broken Lord of the Shaded Isle; after all, he doesn't leave his keep very often. Still, they don't seem particularly terrified as he walks past them towards your corner of the temple.
I see you have arrived, he says as he steps up to you, his gaze travelling from one Accursed to the next slowly. I bid you welcome... and offer you my condolences. It seems that a great burden has been thrust upon you that was never yours to bear.
His voice is quiet, almost a whisper, with a slight echo as he speaks. There is a distinct hint of sorrow in the ancient creature's voice as he addresses you.
- Uhm, he is taking a little too long, don't you think? - Rhaenys asks her companions when they've been waiting for about ... twenty two minutes, which is the time she's managed to stay focused on skeeming through a few books, trying to appear as scholarly as the temple accolites. She has selected those books following the careful and studied method of selecting the most colorful covers with the flashier letters and runes. Also, the higher the book in the shelf, the better. That way she can use her spectral hand, which she simply finds funny.
In the minute twenty three, she sits in the most comfortable spot she can find, looking curiously at anyone passing by and following them with her gaze, wondering if they never grow tired of working in the same place for long.
By minute fifty six if nothing interesting has happened she'd probably have already dozed off. That is why, when the temple's doors creaks open, Rhaenys springs to her feet, feeling a bit bad with herself. She should have probably asked for...
"... coffee instead of tea? As if that would have changed anything, sleepyhead!"
"Shhhh. Not now. Lord Akkron is here".
As she's having this little conversation in her mind, she doesn't say anything for a few seconds after the lich has addressed them. Then she gasps loudly, remembers it is polite to present oneself, bows to the Lord of the Shaded Isle and says:
- It is an honor to finally meet you, Lord Akkron. My name is Rhaenys Ilesere. - When Stafford coughs in her mind, she glances at the staff in her hands and says to him - Oh, sorry. - The sorceress then looks again at the lich and adds - And he's Stafford. Yes, I gave "my burden" a name. Though, well, if he could speak aloud he would probably say I'm-
" ... as a burden to me, as I am to you... "
- as a burden to him as he is to me. There! He's just said it as I was speaking! I promise I'm not lying. Anyway. We are in better terms now, though we would like to know if there is a way to end Stafford's curse so I can regain my innate shapeshifting abilities instead of depending on him.
As Rhaenys finishes speaking, the staff turns her from current human form into her changeling form. She smiles a little and continues:
- It may not look like the most terrible of curses, I know! But my Lord, you don't know what he's put me through, at times. Bugbear, kenku, leonin... - Stafford shapeshifts the sorceress into all the races she's mentioned, but ends up leaving her in her natural form - Not that I have any problem with those races! I just prefer less hair and feathers. And to shapeshift at my own will. That's all. I could even do with not being able to separate from him. I've ... actually grown to like him, to be perfectly honest.
I see you have arrived, he says as he steps up to you, his gaze travelling from one Accursed to the next slowly. I bid you welcome... and offer you my condolences. It seems that a great burden has been thrust upon you that was never yours to bear.
Though doing his best to hide his discomfort and speaking with a lich, even if not wholy successful, Korba does manage to remember his manners of dealing with some of the heads of houses back in the Underdark, and replies, "We are grateful for your time and being willing to meet with us. It seems you already know quite a bit of our struggles... so I'll not bore you with the details, as I'm sure you're quite busy. I must ask though," no longer feeling the need to hide details of his curse, "the curse that has been put upon me, and my sword," which has not been seen since they rested and it dissapeared in a cloud of dust in Korba's hands, "was done so by a... shall we say, jealous, relative. How is this something that was not mine to bear? Or is it another burden of which you speak?"
Though the curses you bear are dire... I was primarily referring to the fate of the world which has been imperiled by the mad cultists... who happen to be under the mistaken impression that I do not know they are listening to us right now...
As he says that, he reaches out and points a finger at a seemingly random Cleric and casts dispel magic... the illusory form of a priest disappears, revealing instead another one of the Dragon Cult's black-robed devotees. The man stares in shocked horror as the realization dawns on him that he has just been discovered...
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The priests and scholars pay you little mind as you file into the library, most of them absorbed in various ancient tomes. One of the Clerics shows you to a cozy corner of the library where you can await the arrival of the island's Lord.
For about two hours you wait (you're free to browse the library's tomes if you wish).
Hewelathan is more accustomed to a life out-of-doors, but he smiles while looking around and the shelves of books and scrolls. The library reminds him of the place where he first stumbled upon the journal that eventually led him to finding his belt. The half-elf is clever and a quick reader, and he has always been lucky. He scans the shelves, looking for anything that might help them with training the dragonnels. Finding some appropriate texts, he gets absorbed in reading, and he can hardly believe that 2 hours of passed when the Broken Lord arrives
There is little left of the ancient being now but dusty bones, draped in a gray robe that billows around him in an unearthly breeze that no one else can feel.
Hewelathan looks surprised and a bit horror-stricken. He has always thought of the undead as an offense against Nature, but the sight of a lich -- in person! -- strikes Hewelathan like a blow. Here, embodied before him, is the height of arcane power but also a twisted, egotistical drive to preserve the "self" through vile rites of necromancy. Necromancy should be used to study the cycles of life and death, to protect the living, to hurry death, or to restore life to those who are killed before their time. But this!
At the same time, Hewelathan feels afraid. Afraid of the palpable arcane power at Lord Akkron's command, represented by his mere continued existence. Afraid of what the lich could do to them. Afraid of what the lich will ask in exchange for his help. But most of all, afraid of what vile things Lord Akkron knows and has done in his pursuit of lichdom.
Hewelathan stands up, mouth agape, one hand on his moon sickle. His mouth feels dry and unable to utter a word. He simply offers a slight bow to Lord Akkron. When he finally closes his mouth, his face settles into an unhappy scowl. He has difficulty hiding his distaste for the lich. Hewelathan is amazed that his companions can speak to this thing like it is a living being.
As a matter of fact, you do come across an advanced guide to dragons, including a lengthy chapter on dragonnels, which details both their behavior in the wild and gives detailed instructions on handelling dragonnels in captivity.
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Though the curses you bear are dire... I was primarily referring to the fate of the world which has been imperiled by the mad cultists... who happen to be under the mistaken impression that I do not know they are listening to us right now...
As he says that, he reaches out and points a finger at a seemingly random Cleric and casts dispel magic... the illusory form of a priest disappears, revealing instead another one of the Dragon Cult's black-robed devotees. The man stares in shocked horror as the realization dawns on him that he has just been discovered...
Rhaenys watches, mouth agape, as Lord Akkron actually catches a cultist red handed with impressive ease! It takes her a couple of seconds to actually react, but then readies a psychic spike in her hand, aiming it towards terrified man. Before she does anything, she looks at how the rest of the clerics react, then at her friends and finally at Lord Akkron himself, waiting for any sign on how to act. Perhaps the other clerics or wizards will apprehend the man?
- ...Uhmmm, do you sense more of them, Lord Akkron? Or are we free from prying eyes?
As he says that, he reaches out and points a finger at a seemingly random Cleric and casts dispel magic... the illusory form of a priest disappears, revealing instead another one of the Dragon Cult's black-robed devotees. The man stares in shocked horror as the realization dawns on him that he has just been discovered...
Hewelathan exclaims, "What?! Here?", in surprise at the revelation. He may abhor the lich, but he recognizes the cultist as an immediate threat to the party. Hewelathan springs forward, transforming into a dire wolf again like he did when the dragonnels attacked. The horse-sized wolf is wearing the belt of storm giant strength as a collar, and the cloak of protection is still draped across his back. Hewelathan races forward toward the cultist, trying to stay between the party and the cultist.
If the cultist is within 50 ft., Hewelathan plans to rush over to bite him and attempt to knock him down.
Jodie spends her time waiting for Lord Akron looking through the various tomes. Jodie is curious is there is any music inscribed in any of the dusty books. After being largely disappointed, she looks through different sources on the Dragon cult that might prove useful. Investigation18
When Lord Akron arrives and reveals the spy, Jodie smiles at Lord Akron's shrewdness. "Perhaps we can learn something from our 'friend' here."
Jodie plucks a hypnotic tune on the harp to charm the cultist. DC 14 Wis
Init 17
Disadvantage on the save if we not yet "fighting", otherwise it'll be a standard roll.
Bridgette clarifies that vast majority of the 'wild' undead won't be a problem, her warning is mostly just so you don't let your guard down on the off-chance something unpleasant rears its head.
"They aren't his 'subjects,'" Bridgette sighs. "They have no loyalty to him, or anything else. They are, to quote my Lord, 'echoes of the Calamity,' whatever that means... If we are forced to slay any in self-defense, my Lord will not hold it against us."
She scratches her head when Korba mentions that maybe it would be a good idea to let Lord Akkron know that you're coming. Apparently, the thought hadn't even occurred to her...
"Ummm... yes, we could actually... I guess I didn't really think 'bout it since I tend to wander in and out whenever I feel like it and deal with the undead if I have to..."
You suddenly realize why the mayor said Bridgette isn't the sharpest tool in the shed.
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That explanation mollifies Hewelathan. He is curious about 'the Calamity,' but he waits until they're on their way before asking her more about it or what it could refer to.
Hewlathan says, "Good idea, Korba." As he looks Korba, he gives him a look, raised eyebrows but with a carefully neutral mouth, expressing a mixture of surprise and disbelief and concern that this is their guide through the dangerous ruins teeming with undead. 😮🙄🤯
Hewelathan finally takes some time to prepare spells for the day, choosing Protection from Evil and Good (just in case), Moonbeam (for the radiant damage), and Lesser Restoration (in case they face a creature or hazard that paralyzes or poisons someone). He's now ready to head to the meeting with Lord Akkron.
Rhaenys stiffles a laugh when she sees Hewelathan and Korba interchanging looks after what Bridgette has said, and then simply adds:
- Well, if any undead other than Lord Akkron tries to come and greet us we'll be more than ready to deal with them, right, guys? Though I wonder about that temple of Boccob. If there are wizards there, there's bound to be some teleport circle, don't you think? You know wizards, why would they even lift a finger having the possibility to do everything with magic?
"Look who's talking....", Stafford whispers.
At this Rhaenys, who was drinking her morning tea holding the steaming cup with a spectral hand instead of using her own hand, looks towards her staff, sticks her tongue at it and then says:
- This doesn't count! Anyway, let's get going, yes... - This time she does her hand to chill the cup of tea and finish it quicker. Then she stands up and says - ...pretty sure those wizards wouldn't let us use a teleportation circle even if they had one leading directly to Lord Akkron's. Ready when you are. - she finishes.
Diving deep to the surface ♫ Nessa | Saxa | Auriel | Chase | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
Regarding a teleportation circle directly into Lord Akkron's citadel... no, there isn't one. That would be a serious liability if an enemy figured out the sigil to teleport in.
If you wish to contact Lord Akkron before you depart, Bridgette pulls out a tome and scribbles some notes in it in some kind of arcane script that you cannot read. The writing disappears within moments of her writing it... and then a new message in a similar arcane script appears on the page. Bridgette takes a moment to read it.
"My Lord is willing to meet us here if you would prefer not to traverse the ruins," she says after a moment. "Since he doesn't drink ale... or anything else... he suggested that the temple of Boccob would be a suitable meeting place... huh, guess that just goes to show you never know until you ask..."
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“That is a very handy book you have there,” Korba says as Bridgette explains. He then adds, “And it is very generous of him to be willing to meet us. I’m sure that would be preferable than having to deal with hordes of undead, regardless of how ‘tame’ they may, or may not, be.”
PbP 🎲: Tyekanik; Moneo Noree; Korba Muris; & occasional DM:
Jodie nods approvingly to Kobra's remarks. "Yes, for as much as I find this Isle fascinating a more academic approach might be safer."
Jodie bites her lip and smiles when a thought comes to mind. "Why is Boccob unlikely to compromise? He's all-knowing."
Fargen Hill Dwarf Cleric/Barbarian - Hoard of the Dragon Queen, Jodie Olwen Half-Elf Bard- Chronicles of the Accursed
Bridgette scratches her head... she isn't sure whether Jodie was asking an earnest question or telling a joke.
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Rhaenys makes a sad face when Bridgette says that Lord Akkron doesn't drink anything ale nor anything else. "How can anyone live... or *unlive* ... like that !?", the changeling wonders. Then she giggles at her own pun.
"......Thank goodness I'm the only one here that can hear your thoughts."
The still human-looking changeling rolls her eyes, and then addresses the rest.
- Clerics and wizards instead of wild undead? Sounds good to me! It's very thoughtful of your Lord - From what they've heard of Lord Akkron so far, he certainly sounds nicer than the average lord. And extermely nicer than the average lich.
Diving deep to the surface ♫ Nessa | Saxa | Auriel | Chase | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
Hewelathan returns from preparing spells for a trek across the undead-infested ruins only to learn that they're instead going to the temple of Boccob. 😑 He has all of his gear with him, and he's ready to depart.
(OOC: I don't remember whether the temple is inside the town walls.)
If the Temple of Boccob is inside of the town walls, Hewelathan says, "I thought that Bridgette said that it's uncomfortable for Lord Akkron to come into the the town. I mean, I'll be happy not to cross the ruins, but we do plan to seek Lord Akkron's assistance. Maybe it's not a good idea to start off by inconveniencing him? " But if it's already decided, then he's happy to head to the temple. He recommends that everyone bring all of their gear: "Based on our recent experience, the cultists could show up at any moment. We should always be ready to fight or flee. There's no guarantee that we'll be able to come back here after the meeting."
"Uhhh... yeah, it is," Bridgette says. "I guess whatever is going on with you folks is pretty important... for the most part if someone needs to pay him a visit we just offer them some additional security on the off-chance that something dead sets its sights on them, which is the other reason I really didn't think to send him a message about the fact that you were here since there normally wouldn't be too much for him to do on his end..."
(Regarding the temple's location, it's near the edge of the town, but it is within the walls and, presumably, the protective barrier that keeps the undead out. Sorry about letting Hewelathan prep all his anti-undead spells for nothing)
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(Going ahead and moving us along now)


The party arrives at the Temple of Boccob without incident.
The temple itself looks incredibly ancient, but also well maintained by the dutiful priests of this deity that most of you have never heard of. It must have been quite grand in its glory days.
The priests and scholars pay you little mind as you file into the library, most of them absorbed in various ancient tomes. One of the Clerics shows you to a cozy corner of the library where you can await the arrival of the island's Lord.
For about two hours you wait (you're free to browse the library's tomes if you wish). Then, the temple's doors creak open, revealing a figure...
There is little left of the ancient being now but dusty bones, draped in a gray robe that billows around him in an unearthly breeze that no one else can feel. He leans heavily on a black staff that appears to be made of polished stone as his empty eye sockets observe the library. Several of the scholars look up in surprise to see the Broken Lord of the Shaded Isle; after all, he doesn't leave his keep very often. Still, they don't seem particularly terrified as he walks past them towards your corner of the temple.
I see you have arrived, he says as he steps up to you, his gaze travelling from one Accursed to the next slowly. I bid you welcome... and offer you my condolences. It seems that a great burden has been thrust upon you that was never yours to bear.
His voice is quiet, almost a whisper, with a slight echo as he speaks. There is a distinct hint of sorrow in the ancient creature's voice as he addresses you.
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- Uhm, he is taking a little too long, don't you think? - Rhaenys asks her companions when they've been waiting for about ... twenty two minutes, which is the time she's managed to stay focused on skeeming through a few books, trying to appear as scholarly as the temple accolites. She has selected those books following the careful and studied method of selecting the most colorful covers with the flashier letters and runes. Also, the higher the book in the shelf, the better. That way she can use her spectral hand, which she simply finds funny.
In the minute twenty three, she sits in the most comfortable spot she can find, looking curiously at anyone passing by and following them with her gaze, wondering if they never grow tired of working in the same place for long.
By minute fifty six if nothing interesting has happened she'd probably have already dozed off. That is why, when the temple's doors creaks open, Rhaenys springs to her feet, feeling a bit bad with herself. She should have probably asked for...
"... coffee instead of tea? As if that would have changed anything, sleepyhead!"
"Shhhh. Not now. Lord Akkron is here".
As she's having this little conversation in her mind, she doesn't say anything for a few seconds after the lich has addressed them. Then she gasps loudly, remembers it is polite to present oneself, bows to the Lord of the Shaded Isle and says:
- It is an honor to finally meet you, Lord Akkron. My name is Rhaenys Ilesere. - When Stafford coughs in her mind, she glances at the staff in her hands and says to him - Oh, sorry. - The sorceress then looks again at the lich and adds - And he's Stafford. Yes, I gave "my burden" a name. Though, well, if he could speak aloud he would probably say I'm -
" ... as a burden to me, as I am to you... "
- as a burden to him as he is to me. There! He's just said it as I was speaking! I promise I'm not lying. Anyway. We are in better terms now, though we would like to know if there is a way to end Stafford's curse so I can regain my innate shapeshifting abilities instead of depending on him.
As Rhaenys finishes speaking, the staff turns her from current human form into her changeling form. She smiles a little and continues:
- It may not look like the most terrible of curses, I know! But my Lord, you don't know what he's put me through, at times. Bugbear, kenku, leonin... - Stafford shapeshifts the sorceress into all the races she's mentioned, but ends up leaving her in her natural form - Not that I have any problem with those races! I just prefer less hair and feathers. And to shapeshift at my own will. That's all. I could even do with not being able to separate from him. I've ... actually grown to like him, to be perfectly honest.
"Awww. I never tire of hearing that, my dear."
Diving deep to the surface ♫ Nessa | Saxa | Auriel | Chase | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
Though doing his best to hide his discomfort and speaking with a lich, even if not wholy successful, Korba does manage to remember his manners of dealing with some of the heads of houses back in the Underdark, and replies, "We are grateful for your time and being willing to meet with us. It seems you already know quite a bit of our struggles... so I'll not bore you with the details, as I'm sure you're quite busy. I must ask though," no longer feeling the need to hide details of his curse, "the curse that has been put upon me, and my sword," which has not been seen since they rested and it dissapeared in a cloud of dust in Korba's hands, "was done so by a... shall we say, jealous, relative. How is this something that was not mine to bear? Or is it another burden of which you speak?"
PbP 🎲: Tyekanik; Moneo Noree; Korba Muris; & occasional DM:
(OOC: Forgot to leave an investigation roll for Rhaenys's super deep and careful 22 minute study: 19).
Diving deep to the surface ♫ Nessa | Saxa | Auriel | Chase | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
Though the curses you bear are dire... I was primarily referring to the fate of the world which has been imperiled by the mad cultists... who happen to be under the mistaken impression that I do not know they are listening to us right now...
As he says that, he reaches out and points a finger at a seemingly random Cleric and casts dispel magic... the illusory form of a priest disappears, revealing instead another one of the Dragon Cult's black-robed devotees. The man stares in shocked horror as the realization dawns on him that he has just been discovered...
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Hewelathan is more accustomed to a life out-of-doors, but he smiles while looking around and the shelves of books and scrolls. The library reminds him of the place where he first stumbled upon the journal that eventually led him to finding his belt. The half-elf is clever and a quick reader, and he has always been lucky. He scans the shelves, looking for anything that might help them with training the dragonnels. Finding some appropriate texts, he gets absorbed in reading, and he can hardly believe that 2 hours of passed when the Broken Lord arrives
Investigation 24 (in game log) (OMG. Did he just find a detailed guide on How to Train Your Dragon? 😉)
Hewelathan looks surprised and a bit horror-stricken. He has always thought of the undead as an offense against Nature, but the sight of a lich -- in person! -- strikes Hewelathan like a blow. Here, embodied before him, is the height of arcane power but also a twisted, egotistical drive to preserve the "self" through vile rites of necromancy. Necromancy should be used to study the cycles of life and death, to protect the living, to hurry death, or to restore life to those who are killed before their time. But this!
At the same time, Hewelathan feels afraid. Afraid of the palpable arcane power at Lord Akkron's command, represented by his mere continued existence. Afraid of what the lich could do to them. Afraid of what the lich will ask in exchange for his help. But most of all, afraid of what vile things Lord Akkron knows and has done in his pursuit of lichdom.
Hewelathan stands up, mouth agape, one hand on his moon sickle. His mouth feels dry and unable to utter a word. He simply offers a slight bow to Lord Akkron. When he finally closes his mouth, his face settles into an unhappy scowl. He has difficulty hiding his distaste for the lich. Hewelathan is amazed that his companions can speak to this thing like it is a living being.
As a matter of fact, you do come across an advanced guide to dragons, including a lengthy chapter on dragonnels, which details both their behavior in the wild and gives detailed instructions on handelling dragonnels in captivity.
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Rhaenys watches, mouth agape, as Lord Akkron actually catches a cultist red handed with impressive ease! It takes her a couple of seconds to actually react, but then readies a psychic spike in her hand, aiming it towards terrified man. Before she does anything, she looks at how the rest of the clerics react, then at her friends and finally at Lord Akkron himself, waiting for any sign on how to act. Perhaps the other clerics or wizards will apprehend the man?
- ...Uhmmm, do you sense more of them, Lord Akkron? Or are we free from prying eyes?
Diving deep to the surface ♫ Nessa | Saxa | Auriel | Chase | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
Hewelathan exclaims, "What?! Here?", in surprise at the revelation. He may abhor the lich, but he recognizes the cultist as an immediate threat to the party. Hewelathan springs forward, transforming into a dire wolf again like he did when the dragonnels attacked. The horse-sized wolf is wearing the belt of storm giant strength as a collar, and the cloak of protection is still draped across his back. Hewelathan races forward toward the cultist, trying to stay between the party and the cultist.
If the cultist is within 50 ft., Hewelathan plans to rush over to bite him and attempt to knock him down.
Jodie spends her time waiting for Lord Akron looking through the various tomes. Jodie is curious is there is any music inscribed in any of the dusty books. After being largely disappointed, she looks through different sources on the Dragon cult that might prove useful. Investigation 18
When Lord Akron arrives and reveals the spy, Jodie smiles at Lord Akron's shrewdness. "Perhaps we can learn something from our 'friend' here."
Jodie plucks a hypnotic tune on the harp to charm the cultist. DC 14 Wis
Init 17
Disadvantage on the save if we not yet "fighting", otherwise it'll be a standard roll.
Fargen Hill Dwarf Cleric/Barbarian - Hoard of the Dragon Queen, Jodie Olwen Half-Elf Bard- Chronicles of the Accursed