"A gift, from a secret benefactor who I will tell you more about in due time." Rasziel calmly turns and answers his companionas his deed is finished. "Now, shall we?" He continues, motioning for the massive bearded warrior to lead the way into the mountain.
The massive bearded warrior nods to Raszielwith approval as the way forward opens. He takes note of the sinister scarred man's disheveled appearance and thoroughly soaked attire, but says nothing. Zephyros knows there are things in this world best left unsaid. He knows the burdens one must carry alone all too well. "We shall." The warrior says in response as he places his fingers between the doors and pulls (or pushes) them open and enters into Axeholm.
"I await with bated breath. That was hardly the cantrip of some lowly hedge wizard." Lady Alisande looks far from satisfied by Rasziel's explanation, inwardly rueing the incineration of such a powerful incantation, when it might have made a fine addition to her deplorably barren spellbook. "What other marvels are you hiding up your sleeves, merchant?"
As Zephyros pushes open the fractionally parted gates to Axeholm, the mage's ears catch the plaintive wail reverberating through the breach. She freezes on the spot, one hand instinctively going to her blade. "Another point in favour of Tragedy of Fates, then. The rumours of stirrings within the forsaken bastion are true."
She follows the muscular warrior and the sinister scarred man into the gloom, with Ozymandias skipping behind in her wake.
"Is that how you view me, a lowly hedge wizard?" The young purple-robed dark-haired man with the sinister-looking scar says with a brief grin. "And you are welcome to check my sleeves at any time, but rest assured that I will share what is needed to accomplish our goals. If you are truly interested in knowing all about me and what is up my sleeves I suggest we take care of that over a bottle of good red wine once we are back in civilization." He adds with something of a playful tease to the young red-haired lady, then turning his attention to what is up ahead.
As the group enters the fortress, they quickly realize that there is no light within. Pitch-black darkness shrouds the ancient dwarven home. Just past the double doors, the fortress opens into a large room, its walls disappearing into darkness, including above you.
Recognizing the need, Gareth pulls a torch from his pack, illuminating the space after setting it aflame.
This great hall has a 40-foot-high ceiling supported by four thick stone pillars. A thick layer of dust covers the flagstone floor. In the middle of each wall past the entrance is a double door. Arrow slits are set high up in the north and south walls, and a small stone balcony protrudes from the wall above the east exit, 20 feet above the floor.
Once inside, the eerie song heard when the doors cracked open is more prominent. You can make out the words to the song as you get your bearings.
Silver fades and starlight dies, The mountain dreams beneath the stone. Once I danced ‘neath crystal skies, Now I sing, forever alone.
Dwarves of pride and hammers bright, Your laughter echoes still in vain. You sealed the gates to flee the blight, And left me to my song of pain.
Lyracocks her head as she watches Raszielcast the spell that unlocks the great doors, a puzzled look flickering across her face. How curious that he's been holding onto such a spell all this time ... after first suggesting they break the doors down and then letting Meirawork with her tools!
The halfling raises an index finger toward the purple-robed man, clearly about to point this out. But then, seeing the exchange between him and Alisande—ending with his playful suggestion that they further discuss over a bottle of red wine—she blinks, pauses… and lowers the finger again. Even she knows better than to meddle in someone else's flirtation!
The cleric of Tymorafollows everyone inside, thanking Garethfor bringing a little light into the eerie hall. As the haunting song grows clearer, she slows, head tilted, trying to pinpoint where the voice is coming from. Does it seem to come from any particular direction? She can’t help but feel surprised that the hall is otherwise empty—she had almost expected to find bodies lying around! (Perception: 18)
Then leans toward Meiraand whispers, "Not that I want to criticize this particular singer, but honestly ... I like your music best!" Her tone is light, almost teasing—an new effort to try sound cheerful, even as a shiver runs down her spine. This place is a bit scary, and they've only just stepped into the hall!
Meira had given Rasziel a questioning look when he returned out of the rain with the scroll. And she had given Alisande a small grin as she teasingly apologized about not having the key.
She watched, a bit surprised as the man's magic scrolls just opened up the gates. "Huh, you made that look simple. Does being soaked and disheveled fuel your magic? Or does rain just bring you trinkets?"
Keeping close to Lyra, Meira also heads inside. She laughs lightly at the halfling's whisper. "Perhaps I could provide some accompaniment. Or maybe even sing harmony. Though that may not help." She does smile at the compliment though.
Moving into the dark place, she also pulls her goggles over her eyes. Glancing around, she suggests continuing on forward.
"A hedge wizard? No, not when you can pluck feats like that from the aether." Alisande scoffs dismissively, though an enigmatic smile alights on her face nonetheless. "I will hold you to that, Rasziel, but know that my inquisitiveness only ripens under the influence of a fine vintage."
The noblewoman steps deeper into the darkness, shooting Gareth a grateful look when he lights a torch. "That song... " She wonders aloud, one hand gripping her unsheathed sword, as a shiver runs up her spine. "A lament for what was lost. A remembrance of dwarven splendour at its apex, for the singer's freedom to frolic beneath moon and stars. A dirge for the loneliness that followed, and the bitterness they still feel."
The mage sends her familiar up to the balcony, to investigate the upper floor. Alisande herself turns in a circle, attempting to pinpoint the direction from which the song seems to emerge, or glean some other clue as to the best path forward.
Zephyros takes in the room with a scrutinizing gaze. The Banshee's lament causes the hairs on his neck to stand up as he steps forward. He tries to listen for the sounds inside the fortress but finds it difficult over his companions talking. The bearded warrior states, "It's not safe here. We should be cautious." He grabs his trident with both hands as he cautiously moves forward towards the southern door to listen closer for sounds of movement, before opening the door. Telepathically, Ironheart asks Felagi to fly up to the arrow slits on the southern wall and peak inside.
Azazel moves to the western double door where he finds the door unlatched and cracked open. Your accountant reports to you that it hears a low guttural growl coming from beyond the door. It sounds as if several creatures are moving closer to the door.
Lyra,
While the banshee's lament seems to be coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. You believe the song originates from somewhere on the upper floor to the south.
Meira,
You move forward with Zephyros towards the southern double door.
Your goggles giving you dark vision, you notice Felagi fly up to the arrow slit overlooking the southern double door and you see a figure just past the bird grab it with spectral hands.
Alisande,
You have no idea where the Banshee's lament is coming from. It sounds as if the very walls around you sing the lament.
Ozymandias flies up to the balcony. He reports back that there is a double door partially opened. Your Tressym informs you via your telepathic link, that in the thick dust that covers the ground their are recent footprints leading into the corridor beyond.
Zephyros,
You step forward, trident at the ready. You don't hear anything from beyond the door aside from the Banshee's lament. You open the double door and see a narrow corridor with arrow slits on both sides. Another defensive passageway it seems.
Felagi flies up and perches inside the narrow arrow slit above you. Your red tailed hawk begins to report the space beyond is too dark for him to see anything, but is cut off mid report. Unusual for Felagi to go silent mid sentence.
Gareth continues to hold the torch for the group and waits for direction from his allies.
The Banshee's lament continues:
Moonlight weeps through cracks of shale, Its glow a ghost upon the wall. Hear my heart within the wail— The last elf voice in Axeholm’s hall.
Do not wake the dwarven dead, Their dreams are chains, their grief a blade. For those who enter, moonlight red, Will paint their souls, and never fade.
Meiragasps. "Something grabbed Felagi!" She looks at Zephyros. "Spectral hands. Up there." She points up to the arrow slit above the southern door, more for others' benefit than the warrior. Quickly she has her shortbow in hand, though with no target she only holds it for now.
"A gift, from a secret benefactor who I will tell you more about in due time." Rasziel calmly turns and answers his companion as his deed is finished. "Now, shall we?" He continues, motioning for the massive bearded warrior to lead the way into the mountain.
The massive bearded warrior nods to Rasziel with approval as the way forward opens. He takes note of the sinister scarred man's disheveled appearance and thoroughly soaked attire, but says nothing. Zephyros knows there are things in this world best left unsaid. He knows the burdens one must carry alone all too well. "We shall." The warrior says in response as he places his fingers between the doors and pulls (or pushes) them open and enters into Axeholm.
"I await with bated breath. That was hardly the cantrip of some lowly hedge wizard." Lady Alisande looks far from satisfied by Rasziel's explanation, inwardly rueing the incineration of such a powerful incantation, when it might have made a fine addition to her deplorably barren spellbook. "What other marvels are you hiding up your sleeves, merchant?"
As Zephyros pushes open the fractionally parted gates to Axeholm, the mage's ears catch the plaintive wail reverberating through the breach. She freezes on the spot, one hand instinctively going to her blade. "Another point in favour of Tragedy of Fates, then. The rumours of stirrings within the forsaken bastion are true."
She follows the muscular warrior and the sinister scarred man into the gloom, with Ozymandias skipping behind in her wake.
"Is that how you view me, a lowly hedge wizard?" The young purple-robed dark-haired man with the sinister-looking scar says with a brief grin. "And you are welcome to check my sleeves at any time, but rest assured that I will share what is needed to accomplish our goals. If you are truly interested in knowing all about me and what is up my sleeves I suggest we take care of that over a bottle of good red wine once we are back in civilization." He adds with something of a playful tease to the young red-haired lady, then turning his attention to what is up ahead.
As the group enters the fortress, they quickly realize that there is no light within. Pitch-black darkness shrouds the ancient dwarven home. Just past the double doors, the fortress opens into a large room, its walls disappearing into darkness, including above you.
Recognizing the need, Gareth pulls a torch from his pack, illuminating the space after setting it aflame.
This great hall has a 40-foot-high ceiling supported by four thick stone pillars. A thick layer of dust covers the flagstone floor. In the middle of each wall past the entrance is a double door. Arrow slits are set high up in the north and south walls, and a small stone balcony protrudes from the wall above the east exit, 20 feet above the floor.
Once inside, the eerie song heard when the doors cracked open is more prominent. You can make out the words to the song as you get your bearings.
Silver fades and starlight dies,
The mountain dreams beneath the stone.
Once I danced ‘neath crystal skies,
Now I sing, forever alone.
Dwarves of pride and hammers bright,
Your laughter echoes still in vain.
You sealed the gates to flee the blight,
And left me to my song of pain.
DM for Tyranny of Dragons and Phandelver and Below, two in-person campaigns that meet weekly on Friday and Saturday nights. DM for Dragons of Icespire Peak Pbp
Lyra cocks her head as she watches Rasziel cast the spell that unlocks the great doors, a puzzled look flickering across her face. How curious that he's been holding onto such a spell all this time ... after first suggesting they break the doors down and then letting Meira work with her tools!
The halfling raises an index finger toward the purple-robed man, clearly about to point this out. But then, seeing the exchange between him and Alisande—ending with his playful suggestion that they further discuss over a bottle of red wine—she blinks, pauses… and lowers the finger again. Even she knows better than to meddle in someone else's flirtation!
The cleric of Tymora follows everyone inside, thanking Gareth for bringing a little light into the eerie hall. As the haunting song grows clearer, she slows, head tilted, trying to pinpoint where the voice is coming from. Does it seem to come from any particular direction? She can’t help but feel surprised that the hall is otherwise empty—she had almost expected to find bodies lying around! (Perception: 18)
Then leans toward Meira and whispers, "Not that I want to criticize this particular singer, but honestly ... I like your music best!" Her tone is light, almost teasing—an new effort to try sound cheerful, even as a shiver runs down her spine. This place is a bit scary, and they've only just stepped into the hall!
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
DM for Tyranny of Dragons and Phandelver and Below, two in-person campaigns that meet weekly on Friday and Saturday nights. DM for Dragons of Icespire Peak Pbp
DM for Tyranny of Dragons and Phandelver and Below, two in-person campaigns that meet weekly on Friday and Saturday nights. DM for Dragons of Icespire Peak Pbp
Meira had given Rasziel a questioning look when he returned out of the rain with the scroll. And she had given Alisande a small grin as she teasingly apologized about not having the key.
She watched, a bit surprised as the man's magic scrolls just opened up the gates. "Huh, you made that look simple. Does being soaked and disheveled fuel your magic? Or does rain just bring you trinkets?"
Keeping close to Lyra, Meira also heads inside. She laughs lightly at the halfling's whisper. "Perhaps I could provide some accompaniment. Or maybe even sing harmony. Though that may not help." She does smile at the compliment though.
Moving into the dark place, she also pulls her goggles over her eyes. Glancing around, she suggests continuing on forward.
Rabbit Sebrica, Sorcerer || Skarai, Monk || Lokilia Vaelphin, Druid || Vanizi, Warlock || Britari / Halila Talgeta / Jesa Gumovi || Neital Rhessil, Wizard ||
Iromae Quinaea, Cleric || Meira Dheran, Rogue || Qirynna Thadri, Wizard || Crisaryn Melkial, Sorcerer || Bronnryn Hethgar, Cleric
"A hedge wizard? No, not when you can pluck feats like that from the aether." Alisande scoffs dismissively, though an enigmatic smile alights on her face nonetheless. "I will hold you to that, Rasziel, but know that my inquisitiveness only ripens under the influence of a fine vintage."
The noblewoman steps deeper into the darkness, shooting Gareth a grateful look when he lights a torch. "That song... " She wonders aloud, one hand gripping her unsheathed sword, as a shiver runs up her spine. "A lament for what was lost. A remembrance of dwarven splendour at its apex, for the singer's freedom to frolic beneath moon and stars. A dirge for the loneliness that followed, and the bitterness they still feel."
The mage sends her familiar up to the balcony, to investigate the upper floor. Alisande herself turns in a circle, attempting to pinpoint the direction from which the song seems to emerge, or glean some other clue as to the best path forward.
Perception: 6
Ozymandias' Perception: 13
Zephyros takes in the room with a scrutinizing gaze. The Banshee's lament causes the hairs on his neck to stand up as he steps forward. He tries to listen for the sounds inside the fortress but finds it difficult over his companions talking. The bearded warrior states, "It's not safe here. We should be cautious." He grabs his trident with both hands as he cautiously moves forward towards the southern door to listen closer for sounds of movement, before opening the door. Telepathically, Ironheart asks Felagi to fly up to the arrow slits on the southern wall and peak inside.
Perception: 12
Felagi's perception: 20
Rasziel,
Azazel moves to the western double door where he finds the door unlatched and cracked open. Your accountant reports to you that it hears a low guttural growl coming from beyond the door. It sounds as if several creatures are moving closer to the door.
Lyra,
While the banshee's lament seems to be coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. You believe the song originates from somewhere on the upper floor to the south.
Meira,
You move forward with Zephyros towards the southern double door.
Your goggles giving you dark vision, you notice Felagi fly up to the arrow slit overlooking the southern double door and you see a figure just past the bird grab it with spectral hands.
Alisande,
You have no idea where the Banshee's lament is coming from. It sounds as if the very walls around you sing the lament.
Ozymandias flies up to the balcony. He reports back that there is a double door partially opened. Your Tressym informs you via your telepathic link, that in the thick dust that covers the ground their are recent footprints leading into the corridor beyond.
Zephyros,
You step forward, trident at the ready. You don't hear anything from beyond the door aside from the Banshee's lament. You open the double door and see a narrow corridor with arrow slits on both sides. Another defensive passageway it seems.
Felagi flies up and perches inside the narrow arrow slit above you. Your red tailed hawk begins to report the space beyond is too dark for him to see anything, but is cut off mid report. Unusual for Felagi to go silent mid sentence.
Gareth continues to hold the torch for the group and waits for direction from his allies.
The Banshee's lament continues:
Moonlight weeps through cracks of shale,
Its glow a ghost upon the wall.
Hear my heart within the wail—
The last elf voice in Axeholm’s hall.
Do not wake the dwarven dead,
Their dreams are chains, their grief a blade.
For those who enter, moonlight red,
Will paint their souls, and never fade.
DM for Tyranny of Dragons and Phandelver and Below, two in-person campaigns that meet weekly on Friday and Saturday nights. DM for Dragons of Icespire Peak Pbp
Meira gasps. "Something grabbed Felagi!" She looks at Zephyros. "Spectral hands. Up there." She points up to the arrow slit above the southern door, more for others' benefit than the warrior. Quickly she has her shortbow in hand, though with no target she only holds it for now.
Rabbit Sebrica, Sorcerer || Skarai, Monk || Lokilia Vaelphin, Druid || Vanizi, Warlock || Britari / Halila Talgeta / Jesa Gumovi || Neital Rhessil, Wizard ||
Iromae Quinaea, Cleric || Meira Dheran, Rogue || Qirynna Thadri, Wizard || Crisaryn Melkial, Sorcerer || Bronnryn Hethgar, Cleric