Umber

The search for a dead king to replace a dead king comes to a suprising conclusion; the adventurers’ path crosses Xaod’s again.

Unexpectedly back in Spinecastle to deliver an equally unexpected cargo, the adventurers took the time to rest, resupply, and sharpen their skills in a more formal setting. Brin vanished into the bowels of the fortress, occupied almost exclusively with none other than the Inquisitor from Trela. He was in Spinecastle on different business but, on hearing that she had arrived, requested that Clement temporarily relieve her of any secular duties to Dunthrane so that she could focus on a crucial aspect of her religious responsibilities. She spent hours closeted with the Jasian, reviewing the nature of death and resurrection, the unsalutary side effects of recent attempts, what agencies might have been responsible for the strange twinning effect and why the totem staff would enable its wielder to avoid them. She asked for a moment’s recess only once, during which she scribbled a hasty note and, calling for Clement’s personal aide, a knight named Sir Jotan who looked none too happy at being summoned to the dim, silent recesses of the mausoleum, asked him to make certain it reached the king without delay. Then she returned to her training.
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The recently awakened heir apparent to the throne of Nyrond has her first training session with the knights of Spinecastle. (sab)

“Sir? I hate to interrupt, but how much longer will you be watching? The Baron of Widmer has an audience scheduled for this time. Shall I tell him to wait?”

Clement half-turns to the knight, obviously unwilling to take his eyes off the spectacle below. “Jotan – watch this – ” he says, pointing down to the training arena below, in which a stout, heavily armored soldier, longsword and shield in hand, squares off against his polar opposite – a dark-haired woman wearing only simple clothing. The woman, a newcomer to Spinecastle named Ardel, uses both hands to lightly, almost negligently, grasp a wooden training sword – albeit one nearly six feet long with edges carved onto both tips. “Look at her left shoulder – see how it’s angled back, but just barely exposed? I mean, just barely. That poor sod in the suit thinks he’s spotted a weakness in her defense. In a second he’s going to…”
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The adventurers spend a night enjoying the mage Ischabeble’s 600-year-old amenities before tackling entry to the tomb of Llywelyn.

The forest glimmered with the silver light of a nearly full moon as Hadrack and Erenil made their way back to the Three Feathers Inn from an evening’s hunting. Ide soared silently overhead but Aprepti, once the hunt was done, returned to Hadrack’s shoulder and with soft, irritable cheeping conveyed her feelings about all of this nighttime activity. Erenil gave her a sympathetic glance. “Maybe we should do this during the day once in a while.”
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Dampf discovers that the power of Cuthbert has been subverted; the party gains and loses items of value. (tad)

The air is unusually cold tonight.  Betrayal and anger hang in the air, warming souls like an open forge.  The recovery of the missing bag of holding has done little to calm the emotions running through the camp.  The lies of the doppelganger Daniel still echo hollowly in your heads, and the loss of Fendifensor has left a grim feeling of doom over the camp.
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Using his new, uneasy alliance with the elements, Klavicus begins to penetrate the mysteries of the amphorae.

In a remote area of the Gamboge Forest, there is a rock formation known to certain elves as The Arm of Ehlonna. While not precisely of sacred significance, it is a place of some reverence for them, and they do not encourage casual visitors. They would therefore have been less than ecstatic at the sight of an invisible balor who, late one morning, quietly hammered pitons in its steepest face and climbed up to a moderately narrow shelf. The wind whistled through a small cave at its back, and a spring bubbled along its surface and trickled in a narrow stream through a cleft onto the rocks below. The demon slipped a pack off his back and removed from it a bundle of wood, twigs and a flint and steel. Once a small fire was kindled, he stared at it with some minor irritation. ”I don’t understand why you have to make this so difficult,” he grumbled, apparently to the empty air.

To perhaps anyone’s surprise but his, the air responded in a breathy whisper, It is not difficult.
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The party dispatches a succubus as the battle between githyanki and githzerai rages outside. (tad)

As the body of the succubus soundlessly drops to the floor, the feeling of darkness that has persisted over the past few days intensifies.  The sounds of her falling sword shatters the silence, as the area around her body flashes white momentarily.  As the bright spot on your retinas fade, everything is as it should be.  The darkness has even retreated slightly.  Valen, in his typical laid back style, says, “That was easy.  Oh well, let’s see what this creature has on her person.”  Carmen begins to snicker in the hallway.  Daniel, more on edge than you’ve noticed before, mutters to himself, “That was far too easy… and that light…”.  Seeing he has an audience, he smiles warmly and says, “Do you not think it odd?   A creature like this would not normally be alone and unattended.  Where are her handmaidens and what was that bright flash?  There was something vaguely familiar about it.  Valen my friend, that was TOO easy.”
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To gain insight into the mysteries of the severed Oerth, Klavicus plays a dangerous game.

Klavicus Starton the Third hummed through the city of Irongate in the form of a tiny fly until he reached the vicinity of the Lord High Mayor’s compound. Then, out of sight of prying eyes, he transformed into a well-dressed human of distinguished and imposing late middle age, strode purposefully to the gates and announced his arrival. The guard on duty scanned the sheet of paper tacked to a nearby wall, then eyed him haughtily. “Is His Honor expecting you?”

“Of course not,” Klavicus snapped. “That’s what you’re here for – to announce unexpected visitors.”
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The temple of Cuthbert in the city of Ogburg endures attack by an unknown assailant. (tad)

Elsewhere in the cosmos…
 
Much has changed at the site devoted to the temple of St. Cuthbert in the city of Ogburg.  In the day that has passed, little work has progressed on the temple itself, but the site is now strong with magic.  Under the cover of darkness, gone are the fatigues of work, replaced by strong steel and leather.  Members of the church move in groups of four, all wearing full battle regalia.  Maces and swords are much in evidence.
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An organized band of psions enters the game for control of Oerth and its souls.

Hadrack and Erenil were dining late in Hadrack’s rooms, reviewing a fresh batch of intelligence reports over bread and stew. Erenil had been dragged into the political situation of Dunthrane and its mounds of paperwork with the greatest reluctance, but Hadrack and Clement agreed that with the peculiar state of the Heironian ranger’s psyche a second pair of eyes was more useful on maps and dispatches than in the forest. The elf agreed with only mild protest, and was dismayed to find that he had some talent for analysis and strategy. “I’d hoped you’d see the wisdom of excusing me from this task,” he sighed.

The Heironian ranger laughed. “What can I say? You’re a victim of your own aptitude.”
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In which Ludan is killed by a meteor swarm and returns a crankier and less accommodating gnome. (tad)

Silence fills the room as you stand over the body of your fallen friend.  Thoughts of mortality and general vulnerability to the perils of the Universe flow through your minds.  Valen finally breaks the silence, “She doesn’t look very happy.  I doubt she’ll be very happy when she wakes up either.”  With nothing more to be said, he turns away and begins to search the bodies of Skrag and Ragnar.
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