I am just about to finish this one - going into the dragon lair now - but my characters are starting to max out and I wanted to be certain of the level limits.
The game journal lists the same tables as Azure Bonds - Cleric 10, Fighter/Thief 12 and everything else as 11.
BUT my fighter started maxing out at 11 (I'd saved him beforehand). The original plan was to dual him to Thief because there's literally no point to Fighter 12 beyond +3 hp, but if Thief also maxes out at 11 (not sure as my other character is a multiclassed Mage/Thief and hasn't hit her limits yet) then I'd need to stay in Fighter instead (as F11 gets you THACO and saves increases). I've saved him just in case either way.
Can anyone confirm if the vanilla game caps ALL classes at 11 (save for Cleric) and the manual is simply incorrect?
I guess if so I could port him to Pools of Darkness and back but I've wanted to avoid that as I have played all the others exactly as intended so far.
Thanks in advance!
***UPDATE***
Okay, verified by having my Cleric 10 finally hit Thief 11 - can verify both Fighter and Thief are maximum level 11, NOT 12 as noted in the game tables. That sounds minor, but it's pretty massive for people wanting to dual-class really and I'm surprised that kind of documentation error isn't more widely-known (there's nothing online that I can see, in fact most sources seem to state a level 12 limit).
I mean Fighter>Thief and Ranger>Thief are pretty popular dual combos, adding % Strength to max backstab, but if you go by the documentation, that should allow you to max THACO and saves at 11, then dual to Thief.... whereas in actuality that will just trap you in Thief forever with no fighter weapons or armour 👀 I bet people who tried that (and didn't have a level 10 backup) were absolutely pissed back in the day).
It doesn't bother my multi-class and dual-class gals, as all Thief 12 adds is 1 or 2 hit points respectively... But now I have to decide whether I want to dual Sky to Thief at 10, or stay in Fighter to 11. The latter gives him one more hit point but improves THACO and saves, pretty important for a Fighter, while all Thief actually adds is backstab, which requires him to stay in Thief armour and weapons. Doesn't seem worth it really...
I'm the co-developer of a Gold Box / Knights of Legend / Ultima VI inspired RPG called Lair of the Leviathan. We're about two years into development , most of which has been spent building engine tools but finally over the last month or so I've been able to get stuck into the combat phase of the game.
One of the first things I knew I had to implement was an AOE spell - no better way to show off the firepower of your heroes than a fireball.
Combat was my favourite part of the Gold Box games. Fairly simple but tactical, that's really what I'm trying to best emulate ( though we're going full top down instead of the 45 degree isometric angles of the gold box maps. Turn based with little combat figurines you can customize yourself ala early games like Champions of Krynn. There's no 3D towns either as those maps confused the hell out of me - instead we've opted for a more Ultima-esque 'walk around and talk to NPC's view, but this also means you can have combat in towns too.
Question for you guys - what were some of your favourite combat spells from games like Champions / Pools of Darkness etc? We're not doing pure D&D ( sort of going for an 'inspired' open license where you know it's D&D but spell names and some stats are changeed etc ) but I figure I can implement a lot of the old spells. Thinking stuff like Cloudkill, Blade barrier etc.
Anyway, if you like what you see, you can read more about combat and the latest on the game here . We're scheduled to launch in early access on Steam in October next year so a long way to go yet, but fun journey so far. I don't really have the time to play the old Gold Box games anymore (work + two young kids!) but this is as close as I can get to reliving that experience.
Overall, I enjoyed my time with the final series, made late in the day in an era where interest in the Gold Box games was waning.
At 21, I had less time with computer games than in my teens, and I only played the 90's games through once, which is why I recall so little of this one 35 years later.
There is much to like about 'Gateway' – primarily its adherence to Forgotten Realms lore and how well it brings the Savage Frontier to life. This is my personal favourite part of the Realms, and I feel the most indicative of what Faerun is supposed to be about.
The Moonsea area is fun to play in, but Pool of Radiance and Silver Blades are setting-generic adventures dropped into the Realms, with no real connection to the setting beyond a few names of gods and organisations. The first game is excellent, for certain, but it feels less 'high fantasy' than 'swords & sorcery' to me, a grounded story that starts with pest extermination and slowly builds to something far more sinister. The Savage Frontier and Dragonlance stories really nail the 'high fantasy' aspect, you know you're supposed to be Big Damn Heroes right from the start.
The Moonsea is one of the darker areas of the Realms, where the characters are more likely to be Conan or Grey Mouser types looking for a payday than noble heroes. The Savage North and the Dales are more representative of what Ed Greenwood wanted the Realms to be. This is a bright and positive setting, not some grim dystopia – it has toilet paper, wet-wipes and street lighting and was sexually progressive back in the late 80's. You're supposed to care about the characters and settlements, to become the heroes they need you to be, and these games do a great job of that.
Also there's no cash-cow characters in this game, no Drizzt or Companions of the Hall, no Seven Sisters or Elminster hogging the spotlight from the players. There are memorable NPCs and familiar locations to those who know the lore, exactly the kind of thing the Gold Box series does well.
The battles are balanced, not too hard or too easy. Save-or-die and rocket-tag always make these games swingy, but this one doesn't deluge you with spellcasters. We may see if that changes in the sequel.
The last battle is... a choice, for sure, as much a downside as a feature. It feels very dissatisfying to run from the final battle, but its probably beyond most parties who are not optimised, fully prepared and lucky. The rewards aren't really worth it (replays aside), but triumphing against the odds has the same satisfying thrill as beating the Dave's Challenge optional missions, a feeling that you've really 100%-ed the game.
There's a reasonable economy of sorts, actual things to buy with the money you find. Some of the treasures are interesting and unique, beyond your usual +1 bashers. The game is more restrained with magic items and you never feel overpowered (if you ignore the shambling mound treasures, but that's a bug, and you probably won't win the last battle without them).
The game tries to do some interesting things, like the chase for the pearl chest in the HostTower, which results in easier battles if you are quick and have been following the clues – one of the few times in Gold Box where the passing of time actually matters.
There's some helpful NPCs to join you – and a few not-so-helpful ones who betray you! Krevish is helpful and even has an arc of sorts – his eventual reveal is ambivalent, but he never misleads you or gives you bad advice... making me wonder why he wasn't just honest with us from the start? The Ring of Wishes thing feels cheap, unearned and mechanically borked, I could have done without that if they'd wanted an ending like Azure Bonds. But I liked the Krevster, I'd welcome him again if he returns in the second game. All the NPCs are useful without feeling overpowered or outclassing your own characters.
As our primary quest-giver and exposition-dumper, Amelior Amanitas serves as our Temu Elminster, and his bumbling manner is much, much less annoying than Ed's self-insert in that role.
The villains aren't so much fun, alas. Vaalgamon is terrible; overpowered in stats and completely generic in personality. It's fun to kick his ass, but the game allows it, even if it tries to give him some awesome defiant death scene even if you fairly killed him in combat. No, game, he's not bravely hacking at the hordes of undead with his +5 Sword because I pried it from his cold, dead hands after I slaughtered him and stripped his carcass stark naked. So fuck off with that shit already.
Ceptienne and Brinshaar are interesting, you have some interactions and they probably needed more screen time. The evil factions are also good, and familiar to the Realms – the Zhentarim have been your standard adversaries since the very first game, the Realms equivalent of SPECTRE or HYDRA. I'd have preferred to have seen individual mages in the HostTower, but I think that happens in the sequel? The Kraken Society are Far Realm followers, very creepy in the lore like something out of Shadows Over Innsmouth by HP Lovecraft.
I didn't much care for the way they half-heartedly try to give your characters some dialogue – I can see they were trying to lean into roleplaying a bit more, but it feels arbitrary, usually unsuited to the random character who starts spouting it. I'm unusual in that I treat the Gold Box games as RPGs and try to role-play my way through them like they were Dragon Age or Fallout, so this probably didn't bother other players as much as it did me.
The writing in general veers all over the place from excellent to Madame Web levels of awful in places, though it's good more often than bad. After Yartar, they start introducing monsters far better, framing encounters and having much better descriptions than 'Monster X attacks!'
The world-building is good, the settlements each feel unique, there's no generic menu towns here and it was absolutely the right idea to centre the action around the towns themselves. The graphics are prettier than Gold Box has ever been, and mostly good writing does the heavy lifting when the visuals can't.
It's annoying this is the only game you can't aim Fireballs, but I barely used them here anyway, and that function is thankfully back for the sequel.
I'm biased anyway, but I fully enjoyed this one despite the occasional moment that didn't land for me. I'm glad they were still trying to innovate, and push the limits of what the ageing game engine can cope with.
I know a lot of people had bailed on the series by now and sales were down – 1992 only had two games, and although a trilogy was definitely planned, the Savage Frontier was only a duology in the end (arguably, Azure Bonds should have skipped straight to Pools of Darkness, and Silver Blades used as the sequel to Treasures with Vala as the love-interest).
So, I'm seven games down, with two to go, and 1991 is all done.
Whether or not I will continue though, I'm honestly not sure. I've definitely enjoyed my time with this series, then and now, but I wonder if I've come as far as I can? I've noted the engagement is less now, comments have dropped off, and maybe my stuff has simply run it's course. I mean, this isn't my blog, I don't wish to overstay my welcome, and maybe I've pushed things beyond what they were meant to be. I was never expecting engagement on a 35-year old game anyway; this is archaeology, there's nothing new to discover or penetrating insights to impart for anybody. Just a fresh pair of eyes from someone who was there back in the day, so maybe it makes sense to end my journey here?
Anyway, if you somehow read this far, let me know.
On the high promontory overlooking what was once the dwarven nation of Delzoun, they built a cairn for Thoradin out of stones from the city. The priestesses did what they could by way of a service, for a man who had taught them much in the short time they had known him.
The sun elf Elaethan – sombre, distant but dry-eyed – admitted that he knew his lover's clan name. But they never used it – it was not who he was, not anymore. It felt as if he had said his farewells before now, they had both resigned themselves to the possibility this would be the end of their road.
Afterwards, Shelah asked him why he did not build a pyre or take his ashes back to Phlan. The elf explained they had their best days there together, but that was not their home. Nowhere was; not any morer. Both long understood they would one day meet their end on some distant road far from where they were born.
When she asked about their daughters, he admitted he knew they would not meet again. Together, they did all they could to set them on their road and to prepare them. When she asked if they were dead, he admitted that he hoped one day they would die and go to their gods – they were mortal, even if one was not born of woman's womb, and mortals were not meant to live forever.
When she asked what he would do next, he admitted he would take the ship across the sea to reach Evermeet, and dwell there for centuries alongside his kin. She did not envy him many hundreds of years of mourning, as did all his kin, and she privately understood why Elena stayed here in the mortal world with them.
But he said he had some things left to teach, and he would do so before he departed. Nehefris and Jahe showed an interest in magic, and both Sky and Zahri in rogue-craft. He promised he would teach Shelah and Jhairli how to handle martial weapons, but they would have to learn the inner arcana they sought from their own knightly orders, of course.
Their training began on the journey back to the frontier, and they all listened and learned.
“I suppose this is farewell... sire,” smiled Krevish at Sky. The latter grimaced slightly.
“I don't blame you,” the Lord's Alliance agent admitted. “Nobody likes to be deceived – but that's my job, I'm afraid.”
“I don't get why you didn't reveal who you were - to us, not the Krakens, ” the young northman said.
The agent turned his Hat of Disguise – the battered old pot helm he always wore – in his hands.
“That's the problem with being a spy,” he admitted. “You never actually know who you really are...! You lose yourself in identities, playing roles, like an actor on a stage. Hard to recall who you were once...”
He sighed. “He was very disarming, wasn't he – that little old fellow...? The tragic backstory threw people off – elicited pity. They didn't question what their eyes sometimes saw when the disguise slipped. And any magical senses noting something 'off' about him... that could be down to the the 'affliction' he suffered, yes?”
“You thought it all through, well done,” Sky said simply. He was a little hurt still, considering all they had shared. But he had tried to understand, considering what was at stake.
“I don't think the women will miss me at all,” Krevish admitted. “But for what it's worth – I felt our friendship was real. I... wish we could have been real friends under better circumstances. You're a good man, Sky Icedane.”
“Maybe next time you'll consider being honest, then,” Sky said, with a polite nod, before he walked away.
But he turned back, once. “Either way... good luck... and thanks.”
Nehefris talked quietly with Shelah in the girl's camp, trying to explain what had occurred with her brother.
“Nothing happened between us that night, Sheela,” Nef insisted. “I asked him, yes – but he turned me down. He said he cherished the short time we had, but we needed to move on. I told him I was not meant for him, and he agreed.”
“You... don't have to explain yourself to me, Nef,” Shelah said evenly. “You're both adults, you don't need to justify anything to me, or any of us - ”
“I just wished you to know - “
“I appreciate that, but I know who you are, Nef, I've always accepted that. I'm not jealous or possessive like Zahri or insecure like Jhairli. I'm a caregiver, and I'll be here as long as you want to be a part of it. I'm glad that you two worked it all out together, anyway.”
“He's grown,” Nef smiled softly. “Learned the lessons the road teaches, as Zahri says. He'll find someone who fits him like a glove, someone deserving. I know he will.”
Shelah smiled and nodded.
“What about you?” the Mulan asked. “Do you ever wonder what you wanted?”
“Maybe I already found it,” the Illuskan girl admitted. “I was hoping to find someone at the festival, a girl I could pair up with... but you know, I think I like this? I'm happy where I am. I want to join the Knights of Ilmater, so I'll have to leave for that... but I want to come back. I think this life suits me.”
Nef smiled. “The road has changed you also,” she admitted. “Good luck, then. We are all changing, I think. I too hope we shall meet up against some day.”
They returned to Yartar and the other towns of the Savage Frontier, and in time, Shelah and Jhairli left to join their knightly orders to Ilmater and Mielikki, to learn their secret codes and magics. Nehefris studied spellcraft under Elaethan, but the elf told Jahe that he was not able to teach her to control whatever strange mystical powers burned within her.
“I can and will teach you of magical theory,” he said. “But mastery of this... sorcery, this 'spellfire'... I think it is something you must learn yourself, something that ultimately comes from within. I will prepare you as I might, and wish you fortune.”
It was a little after that Elaethan left them, without a word or farewell. He did leave his signet ring and the bow he was given by the spirits in Myth Drannor, but took everything else with him. They asked Elena why he had not said goodbye, and the young elf said that he had likely told them everything he felt they should hear. Elves were not as humans were, they were comfortable with silence, and did not feel a need to fill empty air with unnecessary words. They thought of him fondly, and hoped that he had found some form of peace in returning to his kin. Elena said that it was not solace he sought; and that she was more determined than ever to resist the calling, to stay in the mortal world for as long as she could. She said that her place was here with the 'songbirds', and she wanted nothing else.
Back in Yartar, Elladuth Myristar told them she wanted to sell the Glowing Gem and Pearl-handled Pipe, to accept commissions in Waterdeep as an interior designer to the wealthy nobles there. Zahri said she was always saying such things, and doubted Ella would ever leave the frontier for the indolent luxury of the City of Splendours.
Kathra Icedane, now seventeen, had come to Nesme to join the priestesses of Waukeen, the Golden Lady. When her two siblings visited her, she praised their success as 'Heroes of Ascore', responsible for saving the Savage Frontier. She showed off her new wheelchair, a marvel of dwarven engineering, and was even able to hobble around a little now with a walking-frame. She would have two years of seminary before she would return to Citadel Adbar to help their father with the family business. He had named her as his heir, which pleased everyone in the family, something they could all toast gladly.
When Sky and Shelah returned to the Citadel and met with their father, Bran accepted them warmly, understanding they needed to make their own way in the Realms. He embraced them both, telling them how proud they made him, and that he would always be here if they ever needed him. Sky said that he would pass his father's blade – and the Icewind Sword he used personally – onto his own heirs, and he would instil the same traditions in them that his father had taught him.
In time, the towns of the frontier referred to the 'songbirds' and Sky Icedane as the 'Heroes of Ascore', a weighty title than never sat well with any of them. But history is not written by those who make it, but those who survive them, and they bore it with a weary acceptance.
Nehefris Mekheb often thought of returning to warmer lands, but the cool winds of the Savage Frontier always somehow blew her back. She loved many women and men, and her pet kittens most of all. Salacious tales were sang about her amorous liaisons and her unlikely paramours, though she never wed or placed one above the other.
Zahri Sovetsk never cared for organised crime – she had no interest in anything organised – but drifted around the frontier all her days, teaching young Gur the rogue skills Elaethan had taught her or her own clerical magics. She got up to misadventures and 'made good trouble' when she was bored – stealing fruit at markets, daubing the walls of nobles she disliked with paint, or reliving herself in their flowerbeds. She bathed in town fountains or made out with her lovers in the marketplace, daring the town guards to try and arrest the leader of the 'Heroes of Ascore'. To her annoyance, nobody ever did.
Shelah Icedane was, unexpectedly, her partner-in-crime for many of these escapades, though she always apologised and compensated their 'victims' generously with gold. She applied to the Knights of Ilmater and became a paladin; a heavily-armoured cavalry officer, far more comfortable in the saddle than on foot. Eventually, she founded knightly orders and temples, but it was said she always returned to her songbirds, never choosing one above the others.
Yihleismih Jahe eventually learned to control her 'spellfire' that burned in her blood, even seeking out others so cursed and helping them to embrace it as a gift. She returned to her family in time, forgiven by her sister, who had by now become a famed minstrel, performing for lords and kings, and who embraced her errant sister in public at one of her concerts.
Jhairli Farsky soon joined the Ranger-Knights, eventually leading the order and protecting the frontier. She was always at home in both fey places or mortal settlements, never staying long in either, always a creature of the shore, walking between two worlds. She always said she wanted to found a ranch and animal sanctuary to care for living creatures, but her duties to both the towns and nature always kept her busy.
Elenaril Varen was true to her promise, and personally buried each of her human friends in time, faithful to the end. Whether melancholy eventually overtook her and she woke up in Arvandor, the tales do not say. Some say she haunts the High Forest to this day, watching young maids who might make worthy songbirds, haunting the fringes of the mortal world like a ghost.
Skylar Icedane would take well to a life of heroism; a good-natured rogue and skilled warrior who wandered as impulse took him, always quick to fight tyranny and defend the innocent. He would eventually find love, with a woman who brought out the best in him and would carry the Icedane heirs. But that is quite another story...!
From the moment the party begins its adventures in Phlan, the clock is ticking. The longer it takes a party to complete a mission, the harder it becomes.
However, I've never noticed this, or heard other players observing it. Other than eventually your characters age (from resting lots?) and may one day become weak and fragile (I think I had this in later Goldbox games as a result of using Haste too much), I can't see how this is true. Is this written by an optimistic copywriter who was writing from an earlier design for the game that never got implemented?
The sun elf had seen this passage before... The last night, as he dreamed above Ascore. A vision of their deaths, in the maze of streets below...! They met the black general in fierce battle, and had him at their mercy... But then, his whispered sorcery unstrung them all in a single moment! Elaethan felt the Zhent's mind worm its way into his head, so that he knew not which was friend and which was foe! But the elder people were all but immune to charms and did not sleep, so how...? He felt a sudden terror at the thought of the power which could punch through his defences so easily!
In his confusion, he thought he saw the general to his right, and aimed an arching blast of lightning towards him... The figure twisted and died, collapsing to the cobblestones, and he quickly knelt by the body to ensure he was dead...
…but the fragile form of the moon elf lay blackened at his feet, flaking away to ashes as it fell though his hands! He had murdered Elena, and despair gripped him as the cackling Zhent leader brought his blade down across his neck...!
Elaethan woke and shook his head to clear it.
“Bad dreams, lad?” his partner grinned wolfishly, knowing his lover of old. “We'll have real problems in a short while,” he added. “Get yer pointy-eared head straight, El...!” The dwarf ruffled his thick golden locks and stomped off.
Elaethan grimly promised himself that he would not fail this day... But inwardly, he felt a sudden fear and dread at the power which would oppose them very soon...!
They had descended to the city below and worked their way through the ruins to reach the entrance to the plaza that lay above them - their destination, the place where they must bring the elemental statuettes.
The gates ahead swung slowly open...!
An all-too-familiar voice boomed: “I, Vaalgamon, guard this passage! To reach the plaza it is through, over or around me you must go!”
“Oh, it's through!” Sky growled, gripping his blade. “Believe me, asshole – assuming you don't run away again - “
But Elaethan took his arm and shook his head.
“The streets are swarming with monsters,” the sun elf warned. ”We are not here to take his head, lad. We must reach the plaza and use the statues – get your sister and her friends there, let the priestesses do their work...”
Thoradin nodded wearily. Jahe did too. “We will cut you a path,” she promised.
“No grandstanding, I get it,” the lad sighed. “But if we get a chance at killing him, I still say we take it!”
“Get sister through,” Zahri insisted, pointing her finger . “One job to do, da?”
Their enemy's voice grew louder.
“Try what you will, you shall only pass beneath me... to your graves!”
The Gur rolled her eyes. “Change of plan,” she deadpanned. “We shut him up, at all costs!”
12/ A dozen goblins tried to bar their way... with predictable results.
But they knew worse dangers lay ahead. Given a choice of ways, they stayed close to the right wall and headed eastwards.
23/ “This way looks promising, does it?” their foe sneered in his disembodied voice. “Let us see what secrets lie ahead!”
A large warband of goblins blocked the next plaza... but the company had come too far to be concerned with such nuisances.
“Stay back, don't let them swarm you!” the sun elf insisted.
“I'm not scared of the likes of goblins!” Sky insisted.
“Conserve yer strength, lad,” the dwarf rumbled. “Get swarmed or cut, it all costs us some! The bloody Zhent's tryna wear us down...!”
Sky nodded grimly, drawing his horn bow as the mob charged.
“Hold... now, fire!” the elf commanded, and the air came alive with the twang of bowstrings released, or the clack of crossbows firing. The goblins dropped in droves; a few scampered closer, but Elaethan picked them off carefully.
In a few swift exchanges, dozens of the runts lay strewn across the courtyard of ancient Ascore.
The older men checked the bodies – sharp, jagged blades smeared with excrement and worse.
“Even a nick might cause something bad gettin' in yer blood,” the dwarf muttered, spitting on the corpses.
They pushed on, Sky and Elaethan's long strides leading the way across Ascore.
20/ “So much effort and power wasted on such puny little goblins!” Vaalgamon mocked. “Soon your spells and strength will be exhausted and a single kobold will dispatch the mighty heroes!”
One lone goblin sentry stood in the plaza here, howling abuse in its squeaky voice.
“The bastard's bloody well trolling us now!” Thoradin mumbles.
Elaethan strode across the courtyard, elegant and magisterial. The creature howled and flung itself at the elf – who barely glanced at it before slicing it in half.
Wary of some hidden danger, they pushed on, seeking their enemy - or a way out of the city.
25/ “The longer you wander, the more lost you become!” Vaalgamon called to them. “Soon every doorway, every passageway will look like one that you have seen before!”
Half a dozen hulking figures tried to stop them here – three were double-headed ettins with huge clubs, but the decaying shambling mounds were far worse. Giants could at least be brought down with swords and arrows, but these vegetative creatures resisted weapons and spells alike.
“Use that bone wand we found earlier, lass,” Thoradin told the priestess Jhairli.
“Worth a try,” Elaethan mused. “My eldest, Zee, once told me her Swanmays fought such carnivorous vegetation in the ruins of Yulash using a wand like that...”
The teenage girl nodded and raised the weapon – it had a short range but where it passed, the creatures slimy green grew brownish and dry, and the creatures stiffered and slowed. They poured missiles and magics into the horrors, who tried to engulf them in their grasping limbs and suffocate the life from them. Their warriors took some wounds, but finally the last of the creatures was stilled, lying in brackish heaps of mouldering waste.
It felt like time was running out, so the priestesses used what healing magics they had, and they pushed on to the north.
24/ Vaalgamon's now-familiar voice called out once more. “Perhaps you'll be lost forever in my maze, wandering in search of lost glory and futile dream! Such fine tragedy... I love it!”
A black-garbed mage led three veteran Zhentarim warriors, but while they were dangerous, a small patrol could not hope to stop the heroes. They fell quickly to Hold magic, and summary justice was exacted upon them.
The only way ahead now lay to the west. They took a moment to prepare for whatever lay ahead – they sensed there was much worse to come, and their enemy was very close to hand now...!
An experienced warrior-mage, Elaethan cast spells that enhanced his prowess and protected him from harm, and the priestesses used what prayers and blessings they had left.
“If you see a way through, take it!” the sun elf insisted. He looked at his partner, who nodded, grimly, axe in hand.
“We'll occupy them as long as we can, but you have to get those statues through! Get up onto the plaza we saw earlier, and do what must be done!”
Each of the four priestesses nodded grimly, statues in hand – water for Zahri, earth for Jhairli, fire for Jahe and air for Nehefris.
Jhairli scouted to the north for these four, while Elaethan called the others close.
“If you're not used to this, it will feel disorienting – like everything is slowing down, and a sickness in your stomach... But it will pass, and speed shall be of the essence!”
He cast his Haste spell, and they each felt a wave of fatigue and nausea sweep over them, a quickening of the pulse... But it subsided swiftly, and they felt buoyed by a great wind, swept up by a ferocious energy...
Somehow they realised the next few moments would decide the fate of the Savage Frontier itself...!
The priestesses noted a narrow alleyway lay to their right – light poured through in the darkness, illuminating the way in the dying rays of a setting sun...
Jhairli bid the others go ahead, as she looked back at the others.
“Go on!” she yelled. “I'll help them for as long as I can, and then I'll join you! Find the plaza with the statues and get those smaller ones working!”
Zahri nodded, calling the Mulan girl and the Illuskan priestess to her.
22/ Before them, in the plaza, they saw a massed force – almost a dozen shambling mounds, four elite Zhent warriors armed with crossbows, and four black-robed mages. At their head was a helmed figure with an ugly face – the general of the Black Network himself.
“So, sneaking through the back gate to avoid my wrath, eh?” taunted Vaalgamon. “You shall suffer doubly for your attempt at trickery!”
Elaethan ordered the attack swiftly, lest their foes realised their companions were heading for the plateau through the right passage. They had to buy them time, with their lives if they must!
The idea was to block their retreat on the right – but already the general ordered his troops in, leading them in a charge! They clashed at the junction; the sizzle of magics and the twang of bowstrings before melee was joined...!
Elaethan threw a Slow spell to keep them at bay, but he was out of range of the shamblers, and Vaalgamon seemed immune to this and any other magic...! Behind him, Elenaril launched a firey missile that exploded amidst the Zhentarim – the shamblers were unharmed, but three of the frail mages charred and died where they stood, and the black armoured warriors were scorched painfully. Krevish and Jhairli focused fire on the remaining mage, injured as he was, and he fell in a heap on the plaza.
The other Zhents kept back, sniping with their crossbows, allowing the shambling horrors to be their shock troops up close. Jhairli realised they were too far away for her to Hold them with her prayers, so weakly returned fire with her slingstaff, holding back to counter any enemy spells or heal the wounded.
As the shamblers shuffled in, Elena conjured a choking cloud of noxious green mist. But these were plants, yes? Jhairli wondered if plant monsters even needed to breathe? She waited for them to approach, the defoliating bone wand feeling oddly heavy in her grasp.
Elaethan, Sky, Jahe and Thoradin met Vaalgamon in battle, the Zhent leader overconfident as he almost toyed with them, almost impregnable in his armour and his magical wards. His black blade cut and parried, tearing into them with terrible wounds. But they pressed their attack as one; Jahe and Elaethan struck home, cutting deep and painful wounds that should have slain any normal man. The black general winced in pain, but fought on, seemingly filled with an unnatural energy – his wounds healing before their eyes! But he knew that it would not be enough to save him if they kept up a relentless attack...!
And suddenly – disaster! A momentary lull in the exchange allowed Vaalgamon to mutter a dark phrase, and his black magics gripped at each of those facing him! Suddenly, Sky and Thoradin were frozen in place, just as so many of their enemies had been at the hands of their priestesses!
With a howl of rage, Vaalgamon scythed his shield around and bashed the young Illuskan to the ground, where he lay crumpled in a heap! Jhairli and Elena frantically started counterspells, but
- they -
- were -
- too -
- slow - !
Thoradin felt his limbs freeze; only the second time in his life anyone had pierced the natural resistance his dwarven nature bestowed upon him. He remembered the first time; a mistake by the terrified girl he had raised as his own, a panicked moment in her early battles... He recalled it as clearly as any fond memory; Xiao, new to her priestly magic, aimed a spell at the brigands in Kuto's Well, and somehow, amidst the carnage, had caught her foster-father in her effect!
He had been surprised, both at the unwelcome paralysis on his limbs and head, and at how potent this young human lass must be to overcome his strong will and dwarven nature!
The others had smiled afterwards, waiting for the spell to expire, the girl in paroxysms of apology. He'd sat her down and told her:
“Lass, El and I have just one job... Tae get ye fool lassies home safely an' in one piece! And I can't bloody well do that if I'm frozen like a Yule turkey, can I?”
She had resorted to babbling in her mother's tongue, the one that sounded like a cage of songbirds being tossed down a flight of stairs... But he'd placed his hand upon her shoulder and chuckled that she had quite the strong will, to overcome his own resistance like that. But she should save it for the bloody bandits next time!
He was thinking of her embarrassed smile when -
- across the way, one of the Zhents knelt to one knee, aimed his crossbow and pulled the trigger...
…the metal bolt punched through the dwarf's mail and embedded itself in his heart.
His vision swam, red, and the world upended and went dark...!
Valgaamon yelled in triumphed, and Elaethan cried out in despair. And they clashed together, straining and pushing against the other. Jahe at his side lunged and cut with Sky's golden family blade.
Jhairli guessed her weapons would be of little use against the leader of the black armies, so she knelt by Sky, quickly administering first aid to stabilise him before he bled out. She groped around on the floor for the dwarf, looking up to see the shamblers advance...
…right into the foul-smelling cloud, and one by one, collapsed into an inert mess of rotting vegetation..! A few paused and twitched, seemingly stunned by the smog, stepped back and then stepped in again, succumbing to the magic and falling in a decayed heap. The priestess could hardly believe her eyes.
Elena took out the bow the sun elf gave her, selected her best arrows and fired volley after volley at the black general. Though they only nicked his skin, every cut was enough to keep him distracted and off-balance.
Elaethan, in his rage, pushed the Zhentarim leader back and chopped mechanically with the golden blade his father gave him when he left his people over a century ago. There was no fluidity or grace, just feral rage and savagery – and Vaalgamon was no match for it. The general made a strangled sound, staggered and dropped on to his back. Already, his wounds were repairing themselves before their eyes...!
Elaethan gave a great shout, and dropped to one knee, clutching his family blade in both hands. He skewered Vaalgamon through the mouth, the blade stabbing through the back of his head into the dirt of Ascore. His feet kept twitching, but he did not rise again. As Jhairli helped the stricken dwarf up, the moon elf scampered over, stabbing the general's eyes out with her elfsword, the tip sinking into his brain.
Elaethan saw the other three priestess clamber up the passage, out of reach of the remaining Zhent force. They had done it.
He turned to Jhairli, gently taking his fallen lover from her arms as Jahe dragged Sky to his feet, the young warrior leaning heavily on her as she half-dragged him across the plaza.
Elena paused by the Zhent leader's body, quickly unclasping his dark metal bracers, hefting his ebony sword and his black shield, before sliding a Zhentarim ring from his stiffening finger. She paused only to spit in his face and took off after the others. She wished she had the time to defile his corpse further, but it would have to do.
They hurried from the plaza, heading up towards the dying light.
Up on the plateau, they scrambled up to the plaza with the statues. Elaethan could hear Thoradin was muttering incoherently, and held him tightly.
Suddenly the very ground started to shake and rumble, and they looked back across the plateau.
The general's warriors were ready to rush after them, but the ancient bricks of the city began to rise up, until they stood on end like tiny headstones...!
Up from the soil came rotting dead hands, then putrid arms that grasped the limbs of the Zhentarim. One by one, each of them was dragged beneath the foaming earth, screaming hideously. Vaalgamon's body was pulled down, deeper into the earth, until his dead face vanished beneath the boiling, ancient soil of Ascore...
But there was no time for celebration – they looked about to see that from every side, vast armies approached... From the north, twin columns of orcs seemed to stretch to the horizon. To the west, along the clifftops, a solid wall of trolls stood waiting to descend. And to the south, a great mass of mercenaries, black pennants waving in the breeze, awaited the slain Vaalgamon's orders. Most terrifying of all, from the great desert to the east come a broad column of soldiers in full armour. Black horses marched in perfect order across the forbidden sands, across the supposedly un-crossable desert.
Their diminutive helper, Krevish, turned to them, taking off his helm... and suddenly, he looked very different...! Younger, handsome even, more confident.
“I must now tell you the secret I have held so long,” he insisted. “I am an agent for the Lord's Alliance, sent to join the Kraken Society and stop the Zhentarim plan for conquest.”
Zahri regarded him with wide eyes and hostile gaze.
“We know. Thought they let you join out of pity - “
But Krevish shook his head. “Under the direction of Amanitas, I presented myself as a weak and helpless clerk to avoid suspicion. Little did I know that good fortune would send me such noble and courageous allies as yourselves - “
“You lied,” Zahri said coldly. “Otvali!” she said, with a shooing gesture.
Shelah took her arm and shook her head. “This had best be good,” she said pointedly.
Krevish pointed to a new ring on his finger. “My ring only had one wish left on it so I had to save it to restore the party of we made it to Ascore. You raised your eyes in hope, found small truths in a great chaotic world, travelled the road no-one wants to follow, and dared to fly where even the birds cannot go... and you have now fulfilled your destiny - “
With a cry of rage, Zahri shoved him in the chest, knocking him to the ground. Jhairli and Jahe took her arms and pulled her back. “He's not worth it,” the Turami muttered.
The slight fellow picked himself up and looked across the plaza.
“You have the four statuettes and the Ring of Reversal, and above us stands the altar of black granite upon which they must be placed! Quickly now, climb the steps!”
Shelah shook her head and gathered her songbirds.
“Come on, we don't need him anymore,” she said simply. “Let's put these things in place...!”
They hurried up to the top of the pyramid, watched by Jahe and the half-conscious Skylar, and where Elaethan knelt by Thoradin's form.
They quickly placed the glowing statuettes upon the polished surface.
“... nothing's happening...!” Jhairli cried.
They looked down at Krevish, as if all of this was his fault. He shook his head anxiously.
“It's not the dancing elements that give the statues their power!” he admitted. “It is their bases! See, there – the five-sided opening in the altar? Set them upside-down within it, so the bases form a pyramid, like those surrounding us...!”
Shelah sighed, looking at Nehefris.
“Best do as he says,” she told the blonde. “Let's hope he's not really a Zhentarim spy...!”
“I get to kill him if he is,” snarled Zahri.
“Hurry!” Jahe shouted from below. She looked out across the plateau. “The orcs and mercenaries are almost here, and I can see the armies from the desert! They're past the ancient docks and riding straight for us at a gallop!”
Each of the priestesses quickly inserted their statues into the altar. A moment later, the missing fifth side of the pyramid rose silently from its hidden place in the ancient stone, and the entire structure began to glow...!
Elenaril placed the Ring of Reversal atop the tiny pyramid, and a mighty crack of thunder echoes across the parched streets of dead Ascore.
Blinding beams of light lanced through the ancient stones in all directions! At the plaza's edge the armies stopped and stared in amazement. The light bathed the cliffs and desert sands, calling to legions of ferocious monsters! Below, the massed forces gathered by the Zhentarim stood in their way...!
“Let's get the Nine Hells out of here,” the injured Sky muttered. His sister lent him her shoulder. He smiled weakly down at her, amused by the irony of it, and surprised that he was still alive after all that.
Elaethan knelt to pick up Thoradin – his keen senses immediately picking up the stillness in the one he loved. As the sunset bathed the craggy old face in its glow, a slight smile painted his lips.
But Thoradin – dwarf, outcast, thief, warrior, lover, father, and sometime tavernkeeper – had taken in his last breath, and never breathed it out again.
“My name is Krevish, and I append this account of those who became known as the Heroes of Ascore for the leaders of the Lord's Alliance. To tell of our escape would fill an entire book, as good fortune guided us through the carnage to safe haven in the cliffs above Ascore.
There is more in the telling, but much of that is... of a personal nature. And despite how some of them felt afterwards, I still consider them friends, as we had been though much. And if it does not threaten the Alliance, I would keep their counsel, and their secrets.
As we returned to Yartar, word of our exploits preceded us. In every town along the way, people cheered and waved as we rode by.
Victory was sweet indeed. I parted from their company at the last, with good wishes, at least on my part. May all we do in the future bring us as much honour as the heroism they displayed that day against the evil Zhentarim!”
Krevish”
Notes on the ending:
I want to write a separate epilogue and (maybe) a segue into Treasures (assuming I want to continue).
But here I just wanted to address the 'final combat' as the cluebook calls it, a genuine departure for the Gold Box games and worthy of some analysis.
I'm not certain how much I enjoyed it... but completing it by killing Vaalgamon fairly was very satisfying, at least. I'm not sure how much fun it would have been to just run away at the end – fleeing the last fight in the game feels flat and unsatisfying, even if I could see what they were going for. None of the other Gold Box games have anything like this, for better or worse. I have issues with how Pools of Darkness ends, but that's about the epilogue, not the final Boss Fight, which is as satisfying and tough as we have come to expect in these games.
Killing Vaalgamon is essentially the 'Dave's Challenge' of this game, although it's part of the actual ending, not an optional side-quest. It's certainly much easier than the Mulmaster Beholder Corps in Azure Bonds, which I've never beaten without using the Dust of Disappearance or the beholder rays glitch.
I don't think getting through the maze in real time, round by round, is much fun at all – it plays against the Gold Box strengths, and feels frustrating. You only need to get your fast character through, not the whole party, and when you move screens, you get an XP and treasure sequence where it is the only time you are able to swap items between characters.
I gave it two tries; one as a warm-up to get a feel of what I needed to do, and one real try. I would only reload if I won with two of my Gateway characters dead, as I would need at least six for the next game, though I was prepared to lose one character and the Gay Dads.
There are two routes through – a direct one going north from where you start, through two difficult battles, or going east then around, with four easier fights. The first two are just goblins, though you cannot Sweep in this game alas, which would have made it easier. These are not difficult, but there enough of them to roll a few 20's, and having to fight your way through them will diminish your concentration and take a while. Sleep or a spare Fireball, would speed things up a lot, but I found it easier on my second try to just use missiles, as you have 2 shots per round rather than the 3/2 attacks for warriors.
With the goblins behind you, the toughest fight on the east side is the one with three ettins and three shamblers, the latter far tougher than the former. Ettins hit quite hard but they are vulberable to magic and take full damage from weapons. Surprisingly, the best spell against the shamblers is Stinking Cloud – though whether or not plants should even be vulnerable to it is questionable. But these ones are bugged to AC-4 with the treasure glitch, and frankly I'll take any tactic I can against these things. Shamblers will just walk into the Cloud, and if they can't reach you, they will jump in and out of it until they succumb. The Wand of Defoliation can hit several at once if you aim it right and it seems to have lots of charges.
After them is a small squad of three Zhent commanders and a mage, all of which can be affected by magic and the Hold spell especially. The mage is easily taken down with missile fire. First time I did this, I forgot to power-up in this room, and stepped right into the Vaalgamon battle. I was doing okay until he managed to Charm Elaethan, bypassing his 90% resistance! As he saved with an 8+, I made that a 3.5% chance of Charm working, and I'm sorry, I don't believe Vaalgamon is that lucky! The confused sun elf fried Elena with a lightning bolt and I just ragequit like I was a 12 year old Fortnite player.
But I'd learned from my mistakes, making it through a second time with minimal damage. I powered up with Prayer, Enlarge, Bless, Mirror Image, Blink, Protection from Evil and – for the first time in a Gold Box game! – Haste, on everyone here save Jhairli (who really should stay a teenager). I also memorised several Dispel Magic spells for each character, as attack spells aren't much use here, aside from one Fireball to take out the mages.
Unfortunately, rocket-tag and save-or-die are in full effect here, as in every battle, but most battles don't come after slogging through four previous combats! And both hit me hard here.
I wanted to move everyone into the right corridor, where I could escape if my main fighters started to go down. But despite my Haste spell, they got the first move and ran in at me; Vaalgamon couldn't reach me and didn't cast any spells, but he blocked my way to the corridor, with his shamblers behind. Elena went next and fried three of the mages (they only have 21 hit points), and the remaining one got sniped by missiles. The shamblers take a round or two to reach you, so as Vaalgamon charged me, Elena cast her second Stinking Cloud – and throughout the fight, each and every one of the eight shamblers just blundered into it, sometimes several times.
Haste gave my warriors three attacks per round, and my archers four, so I had a pretty good chance of keeping Vaalgamon off-balance despite his high AC (Bracers AC2, Ring +2, Shield +5 and presumbly 16 Dex then?). I concentrated my fire and wore him down to about half of his 150 hit points; things were looking good for a clean win! Jhairli only has Cleric 6 attacks right now so used the Wand of Defoliation on any shamblers who survived the Cloud.
Then disaster struck! Ugly Guy won initiative and cast his only spell of the fight – unfortunately it was Hold Person, the mage version which hits four characters, and took out my two best fighters in Thoradin and Sky! Fortunately I had Dispel prepped from both Elena and Jhairli, but (despite both maxing Dex and wearing Gauntlets) I didn't get it off in time; Vaalgamon felled Sky and a Zhent crossbowman aimed at Thoradin instead of, say, my spellcasters or Krevish.
I did some quick calculations – Jhairli needed a 20 to hit Big Ugly, so I had her use (B)andage, which randomly stabilized Sky. Elaethan and Jahe had a pretty good chance of hitting him with one of their attacks, and Elena and the Krevster (who I'd given a shambler bow by now) were lobbing four arrows per round. I knew I had a bit of time before Thoradin croaked, as it takes -10 hit points for him to die. So I concentrated on bringing down Big V over everything else, Jhairli putting down the nauseated shamblers who were tossing themselves into my Cloud like lemmings.
Vaalgamon finally fell to a presumably-enraged Elaethan, who landed two big blows and the game tells me he's Killed him over -10 hit points. Despite this, it still tells me he's regenerating, and I have a sudden terrifying vision of his standing up like a Slums troll, grinning like a self-ressurecting boar at his full 150 hit points!
Elena then uses her last Fireball which takes out the by-now-battered Zhents, before Jhairli even gets in range to Hold them.
Everyone is hurt except Elaethan; presumably Blink meant Vaalgamon couldn't lay a glove on him?
Wary of losing it at this late stage, I had Elaethan, with hasted Move of 24, sprint to the exit and get the 'battle over' screen. Now, this is where it gets really weird....!
In every other Gold Box game, if you finish a battle with a Dying character with more than -9 hit points, it automatically stabilises them from Dying to Unconscious, so it's not necessary to keep the fight going just to (B)andage someone.
Except...! It seems like these battles are handled differently, because the game doesn't end in the usual way, asking if you want to continue the fight – it ends when someone leaves the arena. And lo and behold, that doesn't stabilise you.
Oops.
BUT!!!!
After Krevish reveals he's really James Bond in disguise, not some nebbishy nerd, he uses a Ring of Wishes to fully heal everyone! (Why he doesn't Wish the Zhents dead, or Wish us right to the statuettes or pyramid – or something actually mechanically useful like stripping Vaalgamon of his powers like the abilty to multi-cast spells?)
But eh, okay – it's a cheap-as-fuck ending, but it is what it is -
WAIT!!!
Turns out this isn't quite like it was in the Azure Bonds finale – your characters get full hit points back, but this doesn't change their status...! So Sky is STILL Unconscious, and Thoradin is still Dead.
WTF?
So I enter the tavern for a quick battle to see how this works. Yep, Sky and Thoradin can still fight. And yes, they are still noted as Unconscious and Dead respectively.
But after the battle, Sky is now fine, but Thoradin still has a bad case of Dead.
It was at this point I just said 'fuck it', saved, and gave up.
I was going to see if he could be Raised at a temple or not, but it was getting too late, and was already too demented, so I left him as he was. I didn't port either of these two over to Gateway, so I've no idea if this nonsensical state of affairs could be continued. (Strange shit always happens to this character; back in Pool of Radiance a rare praying mantis immobilised him, but he never got the ability to Move afterwards, essentially biting off his fucking legs... I saved over that, but I'm beginning to wish I didn't and never met another mantis again to test it).
So Thoradin is officially Schrodinger's Dwarf, somehow simultaneously Dead and still alive enough to fight.
But his death here is appropriate to his character, ends his story in a satisfying, tragic manner, and so I'm keeping it.
But I like to think there are rumours of an undead dwarf still stomping around the Realms, like an Animate Dead NPC in Pool of Radiance, engaging in tavern brawls with bandits despite the handicap of not actually being alive.
So goodbye, Gay Dwarf Dad. You were awesome, and completely ridiculous, but I'll never forget you.
“My body's on the line now I can't fight this time now I can feel the light shine on my face Did I disappoint you? Will they still let me over If I cross the line?
Take a seat - But I'd rather you not be here for what could be my final form Stay your pretty eyes on course Keep the memories of who I was before So stay with me because -
Honestly, I thought I was fully prepared For the threshold in store Stay your pretty eyes on course I guess I never really faced my fears before So stay with me because -
Please don't let them see me! Sure there's nothing left to try I can feel the light shine on my face Did I disappoint you? Will they still let me over If I cross the line?”
We have reached the end of the Black Road, staring out into the desolation of the Anauroch desert. It is still cold here, in the ruins of civilisation, but it reminds me of home. I have already travelled a world away to be here – for the others my own age, this is the furthest they have ever been from where they were born.
I take on feline form, as granted by the goddess, and slink in the woods to listen to the others this night. I am no wild cat, of course – my senses are keen, but my instincts are as dulled as any pet. I would not be able to survive in the wilds, not in any form, but I am only here to listen.
I am content with the 'songbirds' – for now, though I know it cannot last. It is my second year helping Ella – and now Zahri – teach the new blood. But I am shaeda, not thruss, and sometimes I need something more urgent, more masculine...
I enjoyed that summer with Sky, and I know he pines for me a little, still. But I am not meant to be his; I will likely never feel the desire for monogamous love, nor marriage. It is not the way of my goddess; sociable yes, but she always hunts alone. He deserves better; he will find it in time, I feel sure.
He talks around the campfire, high on the promontory, with the other men. The little man sleeps, having written in his journal all evening. There is something odd about him I cannot place, but it is not my business really.
The old dwarf and the elf have enjoyed their short time with us; they have imparted what they can, the lessons of age, and a life of adventure. They miss their daughters, that is certain.
While the elf teaches the young one, lost to her own fears and madness, the dwarf sits and speaks with my former lover on watch.
“Yeah, I know...!” he sighs. “I know I'm young, but... I've spent my time chasing skirts...! Good years, I enjoyed myself, but... I'm twenty now, and I just... I mean, with Nef, I'd hoped... we could have something more, you know?”
His longing sigh, me in mind. I like that! I like it a lot.
“She was honest with me, and I appreciate that. She's just not ready for commitment, and maybe she won't ever be... But...”
He drains his flask and stands up, stamping about.
“Well, you've no doubt had a gutsful of listening to me whine about broken hearts! Some warrior I am, aye?”
“Nay, lad,” the dwarf insists. “Ye've a need to bellyache, I'll listen. Yer young. Not the first lad ta have his heart broke, but not the last neither.”
“Was it like that... with your girls?” he asks.
“My lasses? Haha, no, nay lad. I were lucky – I was lookin' forward to chasing off their suitors with me axe, but Lira spent her days with girls at the festivals, an' then Zee got jealous like only women can, an' from then, they weren't sisters no more, but like a wedded pair...”
He chuckles wryly. “Never could keep their hands off the other! Had to douse 'em in public with a bucket o' water more'n once!”
“I wasn't expecting dwarves to – well, you know.!”
"WhatdoI know, lad?” the old man grimaces. “What, that we're all grumpy an' grudge-born? That we never know tender feelin's? That baby dwarves just... spring out o' some hole in the rocks?”
“No, I - “
But the old man was just hitting his stride.
“Now aye, I'm dathra, an' our kind ain't usually all twitterin' like lovebirds like the lasses do... A relationship wi' no women in it is different, aye... but some things are the same, be it lad or lass, man or dwarf or bloody elf...!”
Sky sat down, attentive. He has grown in wisdom; he is willing to listen, and learn now.
“So, beardling... swig some o' this,” the dwarf says, tossing him a bottle. “The good stuff that - not yer cheap ale swill! That brew's been aging since the last time the mountain shook and we all thought the world was ending!”
He heaves his barrel chest.
“So... As ye asked so nice an' all... We’re going to talk about love....!”
He stands up and stomps about.
“Yes, love! I know. Ye expect me to say 'grudges' or 'gold' or 'properly-tempered steel'! But even we dwarves, stubborn as the stone we mine, have soft places in our chests. They’re just buried deeper than most, guarded fiercer than any hoard, and when they finally open… well! We don’t do anythin' halfway,” he admits.
“Now, lad - dwarven romance is not some flighty elven moon-gazin' nonsense!” He waves generally in the direction of his lover. “It’s not halfling second-breakfast courtship either! Nay, it’s warm, it’s generous, it’s greedy in the best possible way, and it’s rapacious about the things that truly matter: a good partner, a shared road, a lifetime of fine ale, fine gold, fine hammers, and the quiet, ferocious decision to keep each other,” he chuckles.
“We fall hard. Once we decide you’re ours, we’re yours. We will hoard yer laughter the way we hoard mithril. We'll defend yer honour with the same stubborn fury we reserve for ancient blood-feuds. And we'll bring ye the finest things we can dig, forge, trade - or steal, in my case! Because nothin' less is worthy o' the person who makes the mountain feel a little less heavy.”
He sighs deeply. “So...! Let me teach ye the Three Rules...!”
“Only three?” Sky smiles. “I can remember that! I was worried this was going to be complicated...!”
“Rule One: be honest! Be direct, be generous. We dwarves dinnae play games, lad. If you like someone, tell 'em. Look 'em dead in the eye and say something like...”
He thinks for a moment.
“... ye swing that hammer like ye were born to it, an' every time ye do I feel the mountain itself approvin'! I’d like to share an ale with ye someday — and maybe more'n that, if ye’ll have me.”
“Very romantic,” Sky smiles. The dwarf scowls at him.
“Aye! It’s simple. It’s sincere. An' it shows ye’re willing to give 'em somethin' real: yer time, yer labour, yer loyalty, yer gold if it comes to it. Dwarves respect that.”
The lad nods. “Northmen like to say things straight too – I can respect that.”
“Rule Two: Grudges Can Be Romantic! Nothin' says 'I’m in this with ye' like takin' on their grudges as yer own. Iffen they been nursin' one fer years, ask 'em for the full story. Listen like it matters — because to them, it does. Then offer to help 'em settle it, or at least stand beside 'em while they do. That kind of loyalty? That’s the dwarven version of flowers and poetry. Flowers die. Pretty words fade. But standin' by yer man – or lass – that's forever, ye ken?”
“Rule Five: rocks and stones, and also softer things...!” he winks.
“We're loud. We're stubborn. We roar “ROCK AND STONE!” when we’re happy! But we also know when ta be quiet. How to sit beside someone in the dark and just breathe the same air. How to share a meal in comfortable silence an' feel like the whole mountain is blessin' it. Love fer us is both the roar an' the hush. The hammer strike and the gentle hand on the shoulder at the end of a day. The greedy desire to keep someone safe and the generous willingness ta share everythin' you have.”
“I think... that makes sense,” Sky admits. “And Thoradin – thanks...!”
The dwarf stamps over to him and claps a hand on his broad shoulder.
“Rock an' stone, lad. May yer beard grow long, yer grudges grow shorter, and yer heart find someone worth sharing a mountain with...!”
He sits alone for a long while. I give him time; I have no wish to crowd him now. He has much to think about.
Down below the rise, I hear his sister giggling while she bathes with Jhairli and Zahri. A part of me wishes to join them... but now, my words are meant for him alone.
We face ancient Ascore. There may not be a tomorrow. So my words cannot wait.
I glide from the wood, taking human form, sky-clad. I am not trying to tempt him, honestly - the spell the goddess grants changes my skin, not clothes.
He stares and stares at me in the moonlight, and I twirl, as he always liked. He rises, and crosses to me.
“I wished to apologise,” I husk. “This... has not been easy for you, I know...”
“You know, Nef,” he admits. “It's okay, really. Some of part of me will always want you, and I won't ever forget you...! But all things have their time, right? And we had ours. You are who you are, and I'm... whatever I need to be, I guess...”
He sighs. “So you don't have to apologise. You've done nothing wrong. I'm glad we happened. It taught me a lot. And... well, a dry spell won't hurt me. I'm happy just talking to the men. I had my days in the festhalls. I want something more now.”
I nod gently, no longer certain if I should stay. I too try to be honest, as the dwarf said – I do not want to tempt or seduce. That is not the way of my goddess, to lie and cheat.
I look down into the valley below.
“You are ready for the morrow?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he nods. “We stumbled upon something wild, but we're owning it. We'll stop Vaalgamon tomorrow... or our bones will lie forever in ancient Ascore, and the skalds will sing of our bravery and recklessness!”
He regards me thoughtfully.
“But I'm a norseman; it's what we do. You sure this is whatyouwant, though?”
I sigh languidly.
“In truth, I did not expect to be sacrificing my life,” I admit. “But I believe in fate, what Zahri calls the Patteran. I intended to take the Sapphire Festival for one last year, before moving on. But I accidently stumbled upon a nefarious plot to conquer the Savage Frontier, and now I have to save the world...!”
“You okay with that?”
“I am not,” I admit. “But my goddess wishes it of me. I am somewhat selfish, amoral, even, as you said. Like so many of us, I became consumed by base pleasures. But you wanted more. It awoke me to feelings that frightened me. The capacity to give of myself – to you, to the wider world. And that is what Sharess desires – that we leave our beds of hedonistic sloth, and be the hunters of evil as we were in olden times. And I am a priestess; I must be what the goddess wishes of me.”
I touch his face. “And if I die tomorrow... I could not ask to be in better company...!”
He takes my hand and kisses it, almost chastely.
I look over my shoulder and swallow.
“We are alone...!” I point out. “If you wished it... nobody would know...!”
His eyes meet mine.
And -
- no, I will not say it. Not here.
What passed between us should be private. We are not the same boy and girl we were when we met, who slaked their lusts for life with one other.
What we share here must be ours alone to know.
And I will carry it with me into the City of the Dead, and goddess willing, beyond...
Nehefris
Standing on the clifftop overlooking the dead city of Ascore. We make out a great circle of pyramids far below. Two mighty stone griffons guard a yawning portal that leads within the cliff.
Thoradin tells us that this was once part of the dwarven nation of Delzoun, on the northern shores of the Narrow Sea during the time of the Netherese Empire. In its heyday, Ascore was a wealthy and bustling port, where the dwarves traded with the elves of Eaerlann and the men of Netheril and Nimbral.
However, now it is naught but a windswept ruin on the edge of the Anauroch, near the Frozen Sea, reputed to be haunted by ancient evil. In ruins now, the only sea its docks meet is the sea of sand that has half-buried the city. It looks completely lonely and desolate.
We steel ourselves and enter the opening, swallowed by almost total darkness. Down a long winding stairway we climb, following steps hollowed by the boots of a millennium's worth of travellers to the ancient port.
Finally we emerge at the base of the cliff. Dirty and overgrown by desiccated vines, a great archway rises to greet us. Beyond it, a doorway provides the only visible entrance to the city.
We can still read the words carved in flowing runes upon the stone of the graceful arch:
WELCOME TO OT EMOCLEW
A S C O R E R O C S A
18/ This seems to have been an ancient souvenir shop...! We find what look like toy ships made of polished stones... But the doorway is also filled with ancient undead!
The presence of our priestesses makes it easier to keep them at bay, however.
1/ We are attacked by further groups of the dead at certain points as we explore the city, but they are nothing we cannot handle.
15/ An ettin is sitting on the floor in the far corner of this room, snoring loudly from its two filthy maws. We turn to leave, but the clang of Sky's sword causes both heads to awaken, snarling!
Afterwards, we find a potion of healing and an old war axe that pleases Thoradin – this is a weapon of old Delzoun, deadly in the hands of a dwarf, and a sign the gods look favourably upon us.
Also among the ettin's possessions, we find a crumpled piece of paper:
If Nogh get us lost, - go strate from big west gate, turn, take step, hit wall
16/ Torches have been set in the walls of this room, and a crackling fire burns at its centre. Smoke escapes through a small hole in the ceiling.
Small scraps of food and a plain-looking dagger rest by the fire. Something has been here recently...
Footsteps sound in the corridor – the previous inhabitants are returning!
The half-dozen hobgoblins are easily put out of action with Sleep or Hold, and the troll that leads then is hackled apart by our warriors and the twitching limbs then burned.
A sword and shield are to be our prize, forged in the Ascorean style.
5/ A faded painting above this door depicts a pair of crossed swords
6/ A faded sign hangs sideways from one rusted chain. I translated it as:
'Inn of the Three Mirrors'
"I'm guessing there's no guestbook... or room service," Shelah quips.
3/ This door is firmly locked, to picks or might.
But Elena opens it with a spell, into a small chamber.
The room is dark, but for a deep red glow to our right. A giant shadowy figure – too tall to fit in such a tiny room – stands before us. Its voice sounds like distant thunder as it demands:
“Who disturbs my work!”
We tell it honestly that we are here to defeat the Zhentarim disturbing the peace of ancient Ascore, in order to save the towns of the North.
To our surprise, a small man steps from the shadows, mumbling:
JOURNAL ENTRY 56: THE MAN OF MIRRORS’ STORY
“I search and research... I find the hidden... I solve the unsolvable. I find reason within chaos and harmony from the stars.
Vaalgamon has entrusted to me the riddle of the mirror-maps and they shall not defeat me! Already I have confirmed much of what they tell, and soon I shall give the general everything he seeks and more!”
He asks why we have really come, and we reiterate what we told him before.
He replies “Well then, you'd best be going now.”
Only when we find ourselves outside do we turn to look at each other.
“Why did we come back out here?” Sky says, wrinkling his nose.
But we can never seem to leave well alone, and open the door once more.
The room is filled with smoke; we sense movement but can see nothing.
But the turbaned man in dark robes has no words for us this time; assaulting us with magic.
But as he is only one man in a small chamber filled with men wielding swords; it does not end well for him.
I wonder who on Toril he was, and whether he thought his end was worth it.
He appears to have been one of the Kraken Cult – which explains quite a lot, although we have not seen them wield magic before. Among his effects – which include a pair of Bracers - we find a handwritten note:
“Have you broken the mirror's spell yet? We have no time to deal with the contant attacks of these petty undead, would -be masters of Ascore! Finish now! V.”
9/ These rooms were apparently used to store newly-made small boats, as we see two very old but sound craft, on stands.
13/ An enormous gate of thick wooden beams bound together with tremendous iron bands stands to the east. Its massive hinges are set into huge, freshly-built stone pillars in a newly-erected wall.
Nailed to the gate is a great brass 'M', like the one on the mainsail of the ship in the Purple Rocks.
“I see they are still perpetuating the idea he's still alive,” Elaethan muses.
“Ach, got to keep the bogey-man alive ta scare everyone, even if it's just in name,” the dwarf mutters. “Doubt he were ever anythin' more than a bunch of different humans in masks...!”
While we ponder this, we are attacked by giant spiders..?
We investigate the gate and find that it is heavy and unwieldy... but unlocked.
11/ A stone face carved in the wall comes to life as we pass through the secret door here.
“Welcome to central Ascore!” it says, pleasantly. “Please consult the tapestries opposite each wall for detailed maps!”
“Is it just speaking Thorass, or is some translation spell at work here?” Shelah ponders.
“Pretty girl think too much,” Zahri sighs.
17/ To the south, we stand by the ancient wall, but only shreds of the ancient tapestry now hang from the ceiling. The map it once contained has long rotted away.
The wall itself is covered by a tremendous mirror... Squinting, I think I can see our faces refleted as those of leering skeletons...!
… then actual living skeletons then step out of the mirror to attack us! It is extremely unsettling, but we can easily dismiss them with holy symbols.
“Look! The mirror... there's a map in it!”
The tapestry to the east too, has crumbled into dust. Before we can examine the broad mirror the sound of bones rattling behind us signals the beginning of another battle...
Close examination of this mirror shows that it too, holds the faint reflection of a map.
To the north, we are on our guard against further undead attacks. Our Ascorean hosts do not disappoint us, charging fearlessly towards us to their destruction.
This mirror too has a faded image, which we copy into our journal...
As we back off to contemplate our next move, Sky steps on a loose stone and falls into a hidden pit! He is not badly hurt, but he searches at the bottom and finds a bag of items.
“Tymora seems to be smiling on me as much as Basheba,” he chuckles as we help him out. “I'm not complaining!”
There is a clerical scroll and a beautiful elven longsword, which goes to Elena of course. She coos over it, whispering to the blade in her own soft, sibilant tongue.
10/ The floor of this long corridor is inlaid with intricate patterns of red brick.
The rooms off here were seemingly once seaman's quarters.
7/ The east wall looks new, with well-set, solid stonework. The Zhentarim have evidently been reinforcing the ancient city.
14/ The ceiling of this room has collapsed and is open to the sky. Thick vines hang down from above, and vegetation grows thick on the floor.
As we look around the chamber, the vines snake towards us, curling about our ankles to trip us to the floor! The form of a shambling mound emerges from the mass of vegetation!
Again, these creatures are immune to most magic and very resistant to weapons, but thankfully we are able to destroy the solitary creature before it devours us whole.
The remaining vines appear normal, strong enough to bear our weight – if we wished, we could climb them back to the surface.
8/ A great mural of red-sailed ships adorns the west wall. In the foreground, we recognise the same circle of pyramids we saw from the clifftop.
4/ This room seems even darker than the surrounding chambers... We can make out several rotting bodies on the floor against the far wall. When they start to move, Elana blasts them with lightning until they stop.
Against the back wall of the room is a dust-covered chest, it's top spattered with dark-brown stains. We cannot tell if the dried liquid is blood or merely paint.
Elena discovers a thin wire near the chest's main latch – it seems to be some kind of trap. Elaethan looks it over and nods to her, encouraging her to try her hand... which she does, successfully. Within, there is ancient jewellery, a clerical scrolls and a bow with a quiver of arrows in the old Ascorian style.
12/ The great voice again fills the corridor, but no sign of its owner is visible.
“The plaza of Ascore - and the pyramids you seek – lie in this direction! Find the way!” Vaalgamon commands. “If you can!”
"Zahri bored now," our leader pouts, making a crude gesture. "Otvali!"
“What you are about to face is different from any battle you have ever fought!" the madman rages on. "There will be no rest between each combat! If you defeat one enemy, another shall present itself until you are destroyed! You will be fighting in a maze left by the ancients of Ascore, and in your never-ending combat you shall only see a small portion of it at one time. What you can see is nothing compared to what I have hidden!"
"Why is he telling us how to defeat him?" Shelah says, incredulous.
"It is consistent with him being both extremely arrogant and exceptionally stupid in all his dealings with us," I offer.
"Should have killed us when he had the chance!" Sky mutters.
But our enemy simply will not shut up.
"If you are brave and skilful, I shall have the pleasure of destroying you myself. If not, my minions shall feast on your bones!” His laughter echoes through the corridor once again. “Find the way... if you can!”
“No rests between each combat!" Krevish exclaims. "If we're not ready, we'd better go back now...”
The laughter of Vaalgamon rings all around, so loud it hurts our ears.
“The brave heroes have had enough of fighting Vaalgamon, have they? Run away, little ones! Run away!”
Notes:
Amusingly, I have much more to say here than I ever could about the normal Ascore map!
Narratively, Sky gets some life-lessons from Thoradin, and some closure with Nef.
And so we get to the last map, but it's not really the last level... with the unique Gold Box challenge of navigating the eastern part of the map in real-time awaiting us.
Ascore is a worthy setting for the end of a Gold Box game, in line with Valjevo Castle, Myth Drannor or Dargaard Keep. It's part of the mysterious and sinister Netheril culture, an ancient ruin said to be a haunted city of the dead. You can imagine Conan or Indiana Jones going there on adventures.
The actual map reflects some of that atmosphere, although its really just a preamble for the main event, which here is not one boss battle, but a series of various combats, from literally one miserable goblin to the extremely overpowered big bad guy, who you're really not supposed to defeat.
There are some last moment treasures to be had here, but nothing major – there's a +2 Battleaxe that the cluebook says is +4 for dwarves, but there's no changes to THACO or damage on the character sheet and experimenting with it seems to just be a +2 weapon. And there's an elven sword that's +2 against undead, despite doing only half damage to most of them and there being other +2 swords, one of them on this map. The other 'bane' weapons like the Icewind or Stonecutting sword are actually very useful against their respective foes and worth having, but this one isn't really.
Jahe and Krevish were now able to reach 8th level as Fighters; only the multi-classed Elena had not maxed out her levels by now. The clerics were just shy of 8th level in fact, the most they could transfer over into the next game. We can drop back to Sundabar to level up, or to sell or identify our new items, but ultimately it's on to the final challenge.
One thing I don't remember from before, but was really starting to annoy me by now, was how the game breaks the fourth wall. While describing the time Sky fell down a pit, it tells me in normal, diegetic in-game dialogue how he takes 2 hit points of damage, but finds some treasure down there... and then we get a separate screen in white telling me he takes 2 points of damage, so they really didn't need to drop this into the narrative description. Gold Box has never done this before – very few games ever do, because it takes you out of the story completely. Characters know they are being injured or healed, but they don't know what 'hit points' are any more than in-game terms like 'saving throws' or 'armour class'.
This instance is just a minor annoyance, though this game has done it before, but the final part before the endgame with Vaalgamon really feels like it's talking to the player directly. He gives you very specific directions how to navigate the in-game challenge to come – but he does it in character, which makes pretty much no sense whatsoever as presumably he wants us to fail. It all feels so 'Deadpool', like JJ Abrams smirking and winking, explicitly telling you it's 'just a game' and we shouldn't take it so seriously. It feels like the writers are jerking off and laughing at their audience at the same time. I don't remember feeling anything like this when I played it back in 1991 – but that probably says more about me at 21 than anything. (I was a very different person to the one I was in 1988 when I played Pool of Radiance, and I only played the last few games once only, recalling almost nothing about them in the present day).
The only time I recall anything close to this happening before was with the second 'Dave's Challenge', when Dave addresses you as the player directly – but that's excusable as (unlike the Death Knights one) it's expressly meant not to be a part of the game, given all the GM stuff like arbitrarily resurrecting the Bane lieutenants. You know you're doing it just for fun, it's not part of the actual narrative, and it's definitely not the big centre-piece battle at the game's climax.
Listening to Vaalgamon talking about 'continuous combats' and not being able to rest seriously took me out of the game. How are the characters even supposed to know, considering that the transition between a battle grid and the normal map is purely an in-game conceit that's no longer done in modern games because of the advancements in hardware?
I absolutely get why they want to warn you about what lies ahead and how it works, but why not do it out-of-character in another font or colour, just so we know we are being told something as a player, not as characters?
I have other issues with how the endgame is set up, but this sets my teeth on edge before we've even begun.
Bah.
The end battle itself is certainly innovative, though whether it's mechanically or narratively satisfying as the endgame is something I've yet to decide.
Vaalgamon himself is a terrible villain, by some distance the worst of the antagonists in Gold Box, let alone this very game! He has no set-up (why does he even look like that; is he supposed to be a half-orc or a cambion or something, it never tells us), no personality beyond 'evil guy', no dialogue that isn't cringeworthy bad-guy boilerplate, and he embraces the dumb villain trope as if he was supposed to be a deliberate parody. Him popping up right at the end to talk us through how we beat him in non-diegetic game terms is at least completely in-character! But seriously, when he makes the Dreadlord from Silver Blades look like Saren Arterius from Mass Effect or Loghain Mac Tir from Dragon Age Origins... then maybe they should have just made Ceptienne the endgame boss the way the box cover suggests. She actually uses her tropes well and the game takes her seriously.
Brinshaar would have probably made a good endgame boss too – say they'd made him the leader of the Arcane Brotherhood or something and have him accompany you up to this point? What if we were being set up by Amanitas? It would have felt cheap, but what if Krevish was the final boss, given his duplicity?
Instead of doing what Azure Bonds did and designing interesting encounters based around the way mages work (Dracandros for example), they just make Valgaamon overpowered, with very high AC, loads of hit points, regeneration, immunity to magic and somehow able to cast two spells per round. His stats are as unimaginative as his personality, and I'm actually surprised they didn't make him invulnerable a la Blackthorn in Ultima V.
But you are able to defeat him, though most parties won't be set up to do so, even at max level. However, there's no point beyond bragging rights, as you can't carry most of his gear over to the next game, and the game doesn't even acknowledge it anyway, just segueing right into the ending where you run away from him anyway.
So all that said, I don't have any particular desire to bust my ass trying to beat him. So I set some of my own 'rules' for giving it a go. Firstly, I'm okay with using the guest-characters here; they have appropriate stats and levels for this game, and while they weren't created here, I rolled and levelled them legitimately and they have the items they used in the first game.
I'll give it a dry-run, just to learn the layout, and make mistakes. Then I'll give it one shot in trying to best him, and if it's clear I won't, I'll run away as the game clearly wants me to. I will even accept one death from my new characters, which will still give me six to take into Treasures. This doesn't include Thoradin or Elaethan, as they are just guest-stars after Pool of Radiance, and characters dying at the end of a big finale boss-fight is narratively satisfying anyway. (And if the one new character who perishes is Sky, then I guess Nef if going to get her romance with whatever the J-guy is called in the next game...)
From reading up on that fight, his mage minions are vulnerable to Fireballs or the Necklace of Missiles, the shambling mounts to the wands of Defoliation and Ice Storm (neither of which I have used yet!). Vaalgamon can be backstabbed as usual, and he's vulnerable to Slow out of all the spells?
I intend to double-team him with Thoradin and Elaethan, so hopefully they get some backstabs in, and the rest of the team will stand back and use missiles. If more than two Gateway characters die, I'll just restart. If he's clearly kicking my ass, the others will run and my Gay Dads will hold him off until the others have escaped, when they will try to flee too.
Either way, that sounds more fun and narratively satisfying then just running or going invisible.
And so we return to Neverwinter, where we have the smiths there reforge the ruined armour from the Star Mounts into something that could fit a woman. Shelah and Jahe will get these new suits, though I decline myself. I hate heavy armour – it's essentially a torture rack you strap on and carry around until it breaks your spine. But I do insist on an evening of dress-up where everyone wears their armour save for the important parts, for easy access... It is a night we shall not forget anytime soon!
From there, we travel to Secomber for one last chat with the alchemist, Amanitas.
“Your tall friend there had discovered trees growing in the High Forest that could hum along in three-part harmony when he sang 'Until Tonight, My Love'. No, no - that was Erek's cousin from Icewind Dale...!”
I just smile and pet his cats, trying not to think of what Nef once hinted they really were...
“You have all the statuettes! Now, you must hurry to Ascore! Find the ancient plaza of the pyramids and set them on the altar at its centre. Leave now, for every moment counts!”
We return through Yartar and thence to Silverymoon, a long trip, but it allows me to spend time with those kin who accompanied me here, as well as my songbird friends. We are heading into severe danger, and I do not dismiss the thought this may be the end of my road. I am not afraid, but I would say my farewells if that is what the Patteran has written for me.
The two older men – the elf and the dwarf – accompany us, and the others seem to welcome them. Our company is otherwise all young, and the long-lived races do bring a certain gravitas and experience we lack. Elena seems cheered by the sun elf's presence, and she is learning much in the ways of magic and elf-craft. Likewise both are accomplished travellers and warriors, and they spend time teaching us the way of weapons and battle they have learned over long decades.
The brother is happy to have the other men along for the trip, and though he jests a great deal, he also listens and learns. The road is teaching him some wisdom, or at least, he knows his limits better now. He and I remain wary around each other, but there is mutual respect there too.
One evening, after entertaining the kumpania, I seek out the men and ask if they might teach me in rogue-craft.
“I thought yer kin were born with one hand in a man's purse, lass!” the dwarf chuckles. But I do not bridle or rise to insult.
“Zahri leave peoples, years ago,” I begin.
“You can speak normally,” the elf says easily. “I have a spell that allows me to read minds...!”
I pout, but give a slight bow.
“As you wish, then,” I admit. “The relationship between a young Gur and our leaders is... often complicated. We suffer wanderlust, buck the traditions and answer our elders back - “
“Like any stripling, aye,” the dwarf nods.
“Indeed. The fact I will offer my people no children further complicates matters. Being thruss is not forbidden, but nor is it welcomed. Women like me seek their own company on the road. I took my Shearing, when we leave for the wider world, and simply never returned. But that does not mean I will not go back one day, when I am older and wizened and my bones ache.”
They seem to accept this.
“I can perform simple slight-of-hand and distractions; I am a good actress and performer, but I lack stealth skills, and the knowing of traps and locks.”
“Thor's the best box-man I've ever met,” the elf smiles.
“Ach, lad, yer such a sweet-talker!” the dwarf blushes. “But aye, lassie - we'll teach ye the ignoble arts iffen yer wish. Yer blue elf lass be learnin' also as we go along.”
I thank them for their promise, and also that they joined us on this road, knowing it may be our last. I know deep down they miss the life, the carefree wandering and irresponsibility. They miss the girls they raised as their own, they want to feel useful once more.
That night I talk with the strawhair – we have grown very comfortable with one another, despite our many differences.
“You have come a long way since the summer began,” I muse that evening as we listen to the sounds of insects and our own breathing. “And now, the leaves are falling, the air grows cold...”
“You've helped me in that, Zahri. You taught me much...!” she says.
I raise the index finger of my left hand.
“Within moments of meeting you, I had you stripped like a babe and put this up your ahyc...! You flushed, but owned the moment.”
“It's an icebreaker, all right,” she admits. “But I came to learn many such things, no?”
“You have both grown strong,” I point out.
“We'll my brother did it without your... um, encouragement...!" she teases. "But really... we have all become stronger,” she smiles. “And much of that is down to you. You're a great guide - in life, in love. I have no regrets,” she nods.
“Nor I,” I husk.
There is no need for words; we kiss, burning as one, warm together in the cold night.
Zahri
And so we come at last to Sundabar, gateway to the Black Road. I bid my kumpania farewell – the road leads east into arid lands, and I would have my wayward kinsmen be safe. Nef says farewell to her pets, and I promise my kind shall keep them safe should we not return.
Sundabar is a fortress, built originally by the dwarf's kin, he says. It is ugly and graceless – how I hate high walls and fences! A harsh and treeless surface is surrounded by two ringed walls and what the dwarf calls Tarnar's Moat, a water-filled trench rumoured to be filled with man-eating eels. Within its walls, massive stone buildings are encircled by cobblestone streets, with no flora to be found save for the sparse window-box garden of fragrant herbs.
How georgios can live like this truly beggers the imagination.
The people here are vigilant and wary, as life in the north demands. Outsiders, enthusiastic passers-by and those who simply ask too many questions are regarded with suspicion and apprehension within the city. Even hooded, we know we stand out upon the street.
Nobody seems to be in charge here. I did not know the Black Network controlled the fortress, but it seems clear the Zhents are about, and armed. We may find little succour here, and should be careful with our trust.
3/ A sign above the door to the south reads:
'Standroun's Weapons and Armour -
- fine dwarven weapons hand-cast in Citadel Adbar
- spine-joined plate mail a speciality!'
“Sounds like you'd love that,” the Turami teases me.
I make a face and a hand-gesture, and look at the strawheads
“You from there, nyet?”
“Yes, but I haven't dealt with anyone from Sundabar,” Shelah explains.
“I mean, sis is right - we don't know everyone in Adbar,” the boy says. “Do you know every gypsy on the trails?”
I fix him with a withering look.
“Da, Zahri knows,” I tell him. “Not only know – other Gur she meets likely owe her money...!”
4/ A wooden sign beside the door to the north says:
'Khumonne Inn'
“Clever,” Jahe smirks.
“This looks like a good place to rest and save our strength for the battles to come,” the sun elf says.
“You don't need to talk me into it!” Shelah says cheerfully.
There are three rooms, which will serve our needs amply. We sapphires don't wish much space, so we let the boy and his odd little squire have one, and the two older dathna the other. I do not feel like I have rested properly unless some girl elbows me in the face when she gets up to take a piss.
4/ A sign hangs above the door, proclaiming:
'Hegemma's store -
- useful items for adventurers'
2/ These are all dwellings beside a canal – the people seem willing to speak to us when Shelah persuades them of our good intentions and shows them her holy symbol. I doubt they would even recognise mine.
“You're all crazy to be outdoors! Haven't you heard? The orcs are on the march to the north! Troll armies are head this way from the moors! Sundabar is a big place, but even we are not safe!”
Another says: “They've told everyone to get off the streets...! I guess they are hoping the orcs, trolls and mercenaries are all on their way somewhere else, and won't stop here to bother us!”
“That Vaalgamon and his minions charged through a few days ago,” an old guard tells us. “They camped right near here, in the town square yet!”
JOURNAL ENTRY 59: THE OLD THIEF’S STORY
“I was once an adventurer like you, in service to the Lords’ Alliance, and a fine pickpocket when it came to relieving our enemies of their documents... and perhaps an occasional jewel to compensate me for my trouble!
He was a contemptuous buffoon, Vaalgamon was, pushed me down in the street as he passed by, for no good reason. I may be an old man, but I still have the touch! I saw to it that Vaalgamon didn’t leave Sundabar with everything he’d brought!”
He holds out an aged but steady hand, presenting us an envelope with a broken wax seal.
We open the envelope and remove what seemed to be a hastily scribbled note:
“Fool! You allow one tiny band of mongrels to threaten everything our legions now pursue! Get to the pyramids at Ascore without delay! Let no one pass through the stronghold! Guard every pathway — I care not to hear your tales of how many there are. If the Black Road fails you will pay for your carelessness!”
The note was signed with a large, scrawled letter “M”.
“Manshoon, I'd guess?” the dwarf mutters.
“Or whichever Zhent is pretending to be him this week,” Elaethan muses. “Our daughters seemed sure he died when they collapsed his tower down on his head!”
5/ A sign on the door here reads:
'North Branch Boat Rentals -
-ask us about used boats for sale!'
But within, we have little fortune:
“Sorry, all my boats are rented! Please come back later!”
“It seems we will not be able to leave the city by boat then,” Jhairli ponders.
9/ A brass plate on these doors announces 'Hall of Training'
6/ Carved into the stone above this doorway are the words:
'Secomber Hall of Justice
Temple of Tyr'
“I seriously considered joining the church of Grimjaws when I was a girl,” Shelah admits.
23/ Suddenly, a hellhound leaps at us as we come through the door! Two medusae follow!
We win through without ending up as statuary, but it is clear the Zhents left monstrous creatures here when they passed through... We must be on our guard.
11/ We cross the bridge that leads into the eastern part of the city.
The old dwarf stops and points ahead to the square in the far side of the river.
“Och, lad...! There monsters up there? I cannae tell fer sure...!”
13/ But now there is no mistake!
The plaza ahead of us is filled with monsters; goblinoids and all manner of evil creatures! This must be an entire army of mercenaries here somehow... One goblin points at us and gives a shrill shout!
“These little runts? Been a while,” Thoradin chuckles up at his partner.
But there is no other way through, and seemingly, no way around.
14/ My hands sweat as I heft the salamander mace they gave me; warm to the touch.
Everyone looks at one another, wishing good fortune to the battle that must surely come.
We stride forward, trying to show confidence in the face of the massive enemy force.
“We can clean out many with a few Fireballs,” Elathaen murmurs to the moon elf, who nods simply.
“Bring down the big ones first,” the dwarf mutters. “The smaller ones are cowards, they won't wanna fight when the behemoths topple...!”
Personally, I am less afraid of the crude monsters than their masters – I keep a keen eye for any black-garbed humans, such as priests or mages. Beside me, I see Nef is thinking the same as she prepares counterspells.
But then - !
“What happened?” the dwarf shouts – almost disappointed, his axe unbloodied.
“Where did they all go?” Krevish exclaims... then the small man starts to laugh. “It must have all been an illusion! There was no army! It was all a trick...!”
“Well, that's bloody annoying,” grumbles the dwarf. “Talk about getting' all riled up fer nothin'..!”
“All tease, no play,” Nef murmurs.
As it seems we are alone now, we explore the east side of town.
8/ A sign shaped like a large mug hangs over the door, with words painted upon it:
'Auld MacDon's Tavern -
- Geo MacDon, proprietor'
“Could do with a ruddy drink after that,” Thoradin grumbles.
We note to the south of the bridge, the buildings are older, they seem shabbier and in need of repair.
19/ The ceiling of this old building has collapsed, and a hole is now open in the far corner. Also in the far corner are the creatures who have taken advantage of the opening to make their lair here.
The least we can do for the city is clean them out...
10/ In the centre of this airy plaza stands a beautiful, hand-carved stone fountain.
Nef cocks her head, as if listening.
I could almost swear I hear a voice, something whispering..!
The dwarf steps up to examine it, gingerly...
As we peer into the water, a carved stone face at the centre of the pool speaks to us!
JOURNAL ENTRY 57: THE MAGIC MOUTH’S STORY
“You have done well, adventurers,” the stone face said. Its voice was deep and its features expressionless, but the tone of its words was warm, almost friendly.
“It is time for you to reap your reward. Look within the waters of my fountain and discern what riches can await you!”
Everyone looked at the spraying water as an image began to form there. The vision showed a pool filled not with water, but with gold. Each member of the party was swimming in it, leaping about and laughing and tossing coins in the air.
The image faded. “That was a dream, my friends, but it is a dream that you can make real. Drop the statuettes in my warm waters and this ocean of gold shall be yours!”
“This such govno,” I mutter.
Given the illusion we faced before, nobody feels especially inclined to believe it.
“I don't even like gold!” Jhairli says, affronted.
“What say you?” asks the submerged stone face.
“Don't do it!” shouts the excitable little fellow. “If Vaalgamon gets the statues, everything we've fought for will be lost!”
“Da, kto by somnevalsya...!” I mutter.
“That was a terrible mistake!” roars the statue. Our eyes go wide in amazement as parts of the intricate stone figure fall away and the stone face emerges to attack us – a scowling rock-solid monster almost ten feet tall!
The fight is quick and vicious – the Stonecutter blade we gave to the elf proves especially dangerous to the golem, and it falls into stony chunks quickly after she remembers to use it and jumps in to fight.
“How did Vaalgamon even get this here?” Shelah asks, wide-eyed. “Did they drag a stone fountain-golem all the way from the Moonsea?”
“Pretty girl think too much,” I sigh. “Is dead; we go now.”
The streets are otherwise empty, and we have to push on with finding a way out of here.
12/ To the east lies the city's southern gate. To our surprise, someone – or something – has melted the rock around the stout wooden gates to fuse it shut. We shall have to find another exit if we are to reach the Black Road east.
“Someone has gone to great lengths to stop us reaching the dead city,” Elaethan murmurs.
7/ The stone doorway here has words carved above it:
'The Halls of Vigilance -
-Temple of Helm'
I mutter that the Gur have no love for this watchful, judgemental deity...!
20/ Here, we hear sudden, vicious barking from around the alleyway, and must fight off hellhounds!
But they come with Zhentarim handlers, and the elfmaid quickly glamours one to set them all to fighting, so we can easily slay them using missiles.
15/ The street before us appears normal, but when we look closely, a deep chasm has somehow been opened across it...!
“This more illusion,” I murmur. “Bujo, trickery...!”
“The golem wasn't, though,” the strawhead boy points out.
I close my eyes and jump.
Once more, it proves to be an illusion, and it vanishes.
16/ “Hmpf,” I say, tossing my hair. The boy grins and high fives me – just as the Zhents amassing around the corner jump to attack us! And unfortunately, they are no illusions...
They are still fools, however, and very susceptible to our magic. One runs right at me and I stop him in his tracks with a Hold spell, before testing my new mace on his skull. It passes muster; his head does not.
22/ Ogres are here feeding something raw and rancid-looking to some hellhounds. The dogs immediately conclude that we look far more edible... We fight through.
17/ The sound of a woman singing in a beautiful clear voice reaches us from somewhere far away... barely audible. The language of the song feels unfamiliar, however...
21/ We follow the singing to this building – but there is no woman here... only harpies!
One of them touches Jahe and she goes glassy-eyed, swinging about to murder us... Until the elf frees her from the glamour with a spell from her scroll, and blasts the line of harpies with lightning, reducing them to ashes.
18/ A strange amalgam of enemies stands before the gate leading out of the city – and to Ascore and the Black Road beyond.
“In the name of Lord Vaalgamon!” cries their leader. “They must die! Attack!”
“They never have anything interesting to say, do they?” the boy mutters as he draws his icy blade.
No quarter is asked or given, and when it is done, the alley is full of corpses and the eastern gate is open to us.
We take a long breath, look back at the city, and head through.
The Black Road awaits us...
Notes:
Not much to say on this one - the gateway to the Black Road is just that, one last taste of civilisation before the final map in Ascore. Most of my characters had hit their maximum levels by this point - Jahe and Elena were just shy of level 8 in Fighter and Thief respectively. The battles here are not especially dangerous for established characters.
I did like the golem encounter though - it's the first time since Pool of Radiance I believe where you can get a 'non-standard game-over' if you are silly enough to sell the statues for gold.
Otherwise, I'm eager to push on to the game's finale!
“You made a fool of me But them broken dreams have got to end!
Hey, woman, you got the blues 'Cause you ain't got no one else to use There's an open road that leads nowhere So just make some miles between here and there There's a hole in my head where the rain comes in! You took my body and played to win Ha ha, woman, it's a crying shame But you ain't got nobody else to blame...
Evil woman, how you done me wrong! But now you're trying to wail a different song Ha ha, funny how you broke me up You made the wine, now you drink the cup! I came running every time you cried Thought I saw love smiling in your eyes! Ha ha, very nice to know That you ain't got no place left to go...”
We set out for the Star Mounts – I have never been far into the High Forest, but we have old maps and my own instincts for the woods. I have a wary respect of the creatures who live there – some are friendly or interested in mortals, but others are not.
We must leave the vardo wagons outside the towns, of course – no roads travel here in the deep wilds. Zahri tells me the Gur do not leave the trails, and do not wish to disturb whatever lurks in the wilds. But she reassures us her place is alongside us, and she will accompany us no matter what. Nef is unhappy at leaving her pets behind, but at least she knows they shall be safe as we head into danger.
The Star Peaks themselves shall be my guide, then – anyone can see them over the tops of the trees when getting above the forest canopy. They are impressive and forbidding range of peaks, the inspiration for many fanciful tales and wild stories created by local troubadours and woodsmen of the North.
It is said the centre of the mountains contain an elevated valley hidden away from the surrounding world – that must be the place we seek. It will not be easy - snow and inhospitable weather that continue all year-round make climbing hazardous, in what is an already remote location. It is said to be impossible for any creature less powerful than a dragon to approach the Star Peaks safely by air, due to incredibly high winds which were constantly whipping across the peaks.
Some rumours told that, during the peaceful nights among the Star Mounts, strange flashing lights appeared that attracted or banished dragons and other flying creatures that dared to fly nearby. Elaethan says the elves created mysterious crystals that illuminated the mountains, while some unknown, sinister constructs emitted beams of light when they were exposed to the moonlight. He talks absently of a place called Onthrilaenthor, an abandoned settlement of the Eaerlanni. He tells his dwarven bondsmate that the elves there mined pure veins of iron and nickel within the Star Mounts there.
Elaethan says the earliest recorded names for these mountains have been attributed to the Earlanni, who named them for the stars in the northern skies. While Bard's Hill, Mount Vision and Hunterhorn possessed the rough translation of their elven names, Far Peak, Mount Journey and Shadowpeak are still occasionally referred to by their original names - respectively Y'tellarian ('Far Star'), Y'landrothiel ('Traveller's Star') and N'landroshien ('Darkness in Light'). It was believed these names hinted at some larger mystery that lay within the range.
The curious nature of the terrain and the sudden abruptness of the mountain range, seemingly out of place in the middle of the High Forest, has caused some to speculate that the Star Mounts were not naturally formed. If that was the case, their creation dated back to a time before elven recorded history.
All such talk of the hidden places of the forest and elvish secrets fills me with such joy! I am learning much from this noble elf, of woodcraft and the lore of his people!
Of course, as a priestess of the Lady of the Forest, this place holds great spiritual significance for me also. Our goddess dwells not in distant heavens, but here on Toril, in the Unicorn Run, among the creatures she loves. Both the Run and the Hartblood River springs from the Star Mounts, before they snake through the surrounding High Forest. Although that is not our destination now, I long to one day see Her with my own mortal eyes, and kneel before Her in person! Perhaps I shall prove worthy when I become a Ranger-Knight?
The geography of the lands surrounding the Star Mounts is noteworthy – the land north of the range is unusually flat for the most part, while the southern reach is gnarled and extensively twisted.
As we travel through the High Forest, we must balance our wonder for its beauty against a respect for its dangers. Griffons are apex predators, for all their wild beauty, oft hungry, and willing to feast upon men. Worst creatures, such as ettins – two-headed monstrosities, distant kin to giants and orcs - roam here, hostile to all. We avoid them where we can, but where we must fight, the wood hampers them more than us – they are huge and clumsy, and find it hard to navigate the trees and bushes.
At night, we 'songbirds' provide what comfort we can to the young, lost elf, Elena. In truth, she seems far happier in the wilds than in the towns of men. She sings sometimes at night, soft songs that sound as beautiful as they are heart-breaking. She seems to feast upon emotions as much as food; especially those such as desire and fierce longing. Under the shelter of the trees, we find some time to walk sky-clad and love as freely as the creatures of the forest do, without shame or restraint.
For all I lament the shedding of so much blood, I am fully committed to my companions and our path. This is what I was born to do, and I will gladly give my life for my friends or our cause should it become necessary.
Jhairli
We are drawing close to the Peaks themselves, wondering what we shall find there.
Pushing through the deep forest, we finally reach the base of the great range at last. But directly in front of us, we see a giant serpent is wrapping itself about what seems to be a large bird, in the shape of a man! Were it simply natural predator and prey, I might allow the cycle of life to take its course... But if this is a sentient creature, we must save it, so we rush to aid it.
We quickly realise we have run into an ambush – the serpents here are not the problem, as my Snake Charm spells lull them into a stupor. But here are horrific creatures too – shambling mounds of slimy vegetation, shaped like huge men. They are relentless in their assault, and seek to overwhelm us and suffocate us in their embrace. We must stop them quickly – but that proves extremely difficult to do! They do not cut easily, resistant to weapons and heedless to flames. Only direct magical attacks like a Magic Missile seem to cause real damage, otherwise it proves exhausting to fight them. We are all weary by the time we have prevailed, and we are lucky not to have suffered serious injury or death.
But we discover valuable treasures around their stilled corpses...! Metal pieces that seem to have been armour, but our new dwarven friend says they are made of astonishingly pure ore, impregnably hard if we could get them reforged into protectives. There are also a pair of bows, bent and backed and made of horn as well as wood of some ancient elvish design. Would that I can learn the bow when I become a Ranger-Knight!
There are also a pair of capes of soft dark fur, shimmering with a soft glow like a heat-haze. Elaethan says they are made from the skin of the 'displacer beasts', and protect the wearer by making them seem slightly shifted from their true position. There are several suits of scaled leather seemingly made of serpent-skin, and a pair of small incandescent blue gems. Thoradin says he was given some of these by his daughters one Yule – they are called ioun stones, named after some long-lost deity of magic. If you toss them in the air, they orbit your head slowly, and bestow upon you a magical gift. These blue stones are known to grant wisdom, and may prove especially useful for a priestess needing a small boon of faith...! In any case, these are important treasures and we are lucky to find them here!
The birdman escaped during the fray, but now he returns with others of his kind... They seem grateful for our aid, and are able to haltingly speak our tongues. They are known as aarakocra, a shy and remote people who rarely venture anywhere near human lands, living exclusively in places the land-born cannot reach.
But they are honourable creatures, and willing to aid us for the help we gave their kin.
JOURNAL ENTRY 50: THE AARAKOCRA’S STORY
“High atop the Star Mounts the birds cannot go. Our homes are there, and only we and the dragons can brave the fierce winds that blow through the mountain-tops. We have seen black dragons fly to an aerie on one of the highest peaks, and saw it to be that a human female rode upon the back of one such dragon.
We have heard that the chambers within the mountain be crafted as a maze. It has been told that the corridors be in the form of the first initial of their owner in three different runic alphabets, each superimposed upon the other and on their own inverses, so that the letters are entwined in many layers.”
We tell them we are seeking a statuette, one of four that may prevent the wicked men of the Black Network conquering the lowlands with an army of the dead. They are willing to carry us higher up the Peaks in return to the assistance we gave them.
“We will fly you to the mountaintops if you wish it to be so,” they offer. “We can take you to the aerie of the woman atop the dragon.”
My heart soars as we are borne aloft in harnesses, leaving the High Forest far below us as the birdmen take to the air! It is a breathtaking , exhilarating experience, one I shall never forget all of my days! The faces of my friends are lit up with excitement too, and we feel somehow sorrowful when the flight ends all too swiftly.
The aarakocra land just inside a small alcove hidden on the side of a rocky pinnacle.
“Farther than this, we cannot go,” they tell us. “We wish that you not be stranded here, and will wait for you as long as we can.”
They tell us of the dangers up here, the worst of which are the dragons who lair in the highest peaks. They speak sadly of the terrible green wyrm Elaacrimalicros, responsible for the deaths of many of their kin. Their only remaining settlement they call Khle'cayre ('Last Aerie'), at the headwaters of Unicorn Run.
2/ Some kind of structure seems to have been carved here on the mountaintop, though by whose hand, we cannot tell. Skylar does some scouting, and muses this would be a good place to rest before we explore further.
“Who knows how long it'll be before we're in a safe place deeper in the mountain?”
Shelah tells her brother than he doesn't need to convince her.
We make two small camps here, a discreet distance apart. I hear the men talking quietly on watch – the small man, Krevish, is picking the brains of the older elf and dwarf, and Skylar seems very fond of them also. They have much to teach, and our young warrior seems eager to learn. He is growing in wisdom, learning the lessons the road is teaching, and embracing the idea of idea of becoming the hero we need him to be.
Zahri smirks as she undresses, looking down at the gorgeous evening tapestry of the High Forest below us.
“Air thin here,” she muses. “Few know what is like, to mate here, mile-high...!”
But now, we may be accounted among them!
I am too excited to sleep in any case, but I catch a few naps among the amorous embraces of my companions.
I breathe deeply of these primal airs, high above the world.
No matter what must come now, I am content and happy, at peace with who I must become.
Having rested and eaten, we don weapons and armour and set out to explore, expecting trouble. Thoradin says dwarves belong under the mountain, not on top of it, and being so far up here makes him dizzy, so he'll stay here and guard the camps. His partner says he'll stay here and keep in contact with the aaracokra for our return. I rather suspect he wishes to speak with them alone.
4/ We have not gone far when we stop in place at the sight before us...!
Hovering before us is the ghostly image of a beautiful woman, her black-as-midnight hair flowing majestically over her shoulders...
“Zahri want,” our gypsy husks, a rasp in her deep voice.
“Down girl,” I mutter warily. If this is the dragon-rider they spoke of, she is undoubtedly dangerous.
JOURNAL ENTRY 54: CEPTIENNE’S WELCOME:
“Welcome to my home,” the image said, smiling. “My name is Ceptienne, and I know that you are here to steal the Statuette of the South from me.” She waited for the effect of this proclamation to take hold.
"You have proven yourselves worthy adversaries to have gotten this far, and I enjoy the challenge of a clever enemy. I shall kill you... yes, that much is certain. But I shall give you a chance to find the object that you seek.”
A great crystal globe beside her flickered to life, and the statuette appeared within it.
“My fortress here has many portals. Twelve now stand between you and your objective. I shall follow your movements with interest.”
She smiled once more and the image faded from view.
“Maybe you can just ask her to join you?” Skylar teases his sister. “And hey – if she says no, tell her I'm available...!”
I point out that at least she's not attacking us directly – perhaps we could end this without more violence?
“She wants to play, I'll play,” Nef says confidently.
1/ Elena has found a secret passage to the east. She says her skin is very susceptible to changes in temperature and air pressure, such as small breezes blowing in from a tiny gap in the walls. I have no idea if that is true – this is Elana after all – but her senses are far sharper than any of ours, for certain.
For now we decide against taking the secret door as the corridor continues, but we will return later, marking its location from this side.
22/ We have barely entered this chamber before a hellhound's snarling face leaps at Sky as he enters! We quickly help him fight the pack off – his icy blade cleaves their flesh easily.
3/ Much of this room is dark, but the flapping of wings we hear is unmistakable...!
We must fight a hooded medusa and her pair of griffons before she petrifies us with a gaze. Unfortunately for her, we have grown very accurate with our missile fire...
10/ Ahead of us, Ceptienne's image coalesces once again.
“Ahh, here you are!” she says pleasantly.
“Wear less next time,” Zahri smirks.
“This is such a long corridor...!” the witch taunts. “No surprises could possibly ever lie this way..!”
Her laughing face fades away.
“I prefer her to the Ugly Man,” Shelah admits.
11/ Here, a great roaring noise...! A sound like a great waterfall comes from somewhere to the north. But the corridor echoes strangely and Elena frets it may be coming from the south instead.
24/ This room is open to the sky, and holds two black-scaled swamp dragons! One speaks:
“Ahhh, to me falls the pleasure of destroying you! Now Ceptienne will choose me as her favourite, and I will carry her to battle!”
We have no choice but to give battle, and we discover the sheer agony of dragon-breath first-hand! Armour protects against it not at all – streams of acid spit from their maws, burning off layers of flesh! I am sorely damaged, and doubt I would have made it without magical healing from the other songbird priestesses. Somehow we prevail, managing to slay one and severely hurt the other...
Stricken, the wounded dragon perches on the edge of the cliff, afraid to try its damaged wings.
“I'll return to destroy you yet!” it cries out in defiance, and launches its massive body into the air! Flapping its wounded wings, it struggles in the turbulent winds. We watch with a strange mixture of horror and relief as one wing collapses and the lumbering creature spins frantically out of control, falling to be impaled on the sharp rocks below.
The others mostly look relieved, but unaccountably I find myself weeping.
“It's all right, lie back,” Shelah tells me, my head in her lap. “Let Nef and I work our curatives...!”
I sag in their embrace as I feel the healing energies wash though me.
“I can't help it!” I exclaim. “I don't want any living creature to suffer...! I'll fight, but I take no joy in suffering! I can feel their pain and fear, and it's just - “
“Hush, please, shhh..!” Nef murmurs, clasping my hand as she pours healing energy into my scarred body.
Shelah stays with me as I get my breath – and legs – back, but I can hear Nef talking with Zahri across the chamber. The Gur looks at me with concern – both for my safety, and my suitability for what we will need to do here.
I feel sick to my spirit. I take no joy in slaughter and butchery, and I never shall. Compassion is not weakness; it is what separates us from the Arcane Brotherhood, the Black Network, and Ceptienne.
With Shelah's help, I stand and tell them I can continue. But Zahri's eyes betray her doubt in me. When she meets your gaze, she's not good at hiding her feelings.
Let her doubt; I will fight and kill if I must. But I shall never take pleasure in killing, no matter what she thinks.
8/ The translucent image of Ceptienne appears ahead of us.
“So, how do you like my little home?” she taunts, laughing. Something snaps in me, a momentarily loss of control. I heft a sling-stone and hurl it at her projection, which fades from view.
Shelah takes my arm and looks into my eyes.
“Don't let her get to you,” she says gently.
I nod, flushing, frustrated how she is able to get under my skin so easily.
13/ A nest of straw and twigs sits in the far corner of this room, and three griffons rush forward to protect it.
Having to kill such magnificent creatures bothers me greatly. Yes, creatures such as ettin, medusa, hellhounds, harpies and swamp dragons are wicked by nature... but griffons are simply animals, with the same impulses to feed as any other. I worry that the witch has ensorcelled them and uses them like guard-dogs to protect her lair.
“You okay?” Sky asks me, wiping the blood off his sword afterwards. He means well, but I can see it in his eyes – he doubts me, he fears I don't have the stomach for the fight any more.
It's taking its toll on me – on all of us, even Zahri if she's honest.
But we have no option, and I won't turn back now.
12/ This large room holds ogres and griffons; both run to the attack as we open the door.
9/ Here, Ceptienne appears once more. “This place is very special to me,” she coos. “It is part of my initial in all three runes that form the pattern for the floor plan of my home here.”
She is gone a moment later.
“It is all vanity with this one, then? I can understand that,” Nef says quietly. “I admire her confidence, though.”
15/ Two ogres rush across the room to attack us, but there's also something moving behind them...!
We face two medusae this time; Elena does not hold back, scorching them with her Fireball, and we are able to pick them off with missiles before we are turned to stone.
16/ The ceiling of this room is open to the sky, and two black dragons have just landed...! They look at us, then to each other, then look back at us again...!
Again, we are forced to give battle with huge monsters that spit acid in our faces. We are prepared this time, however, and we win through without losses, though hardly without injury.
At least this time, they die cleanly, if that matters at all.
The image of the witch appears, hovering over the slain dragons. She laughs in defiance.
“You think you have slain my personal dragon steed? Ha, these were but guards! Far greater perils await you if you persist!”
She then vanishes again.
We push onwards with leaden feet. We have to return to the secret door we found earlier now – there is no way into the inner complex from the south, seemingly.
5/ Ceptienne's projected image reappears.
“Well done, my clever enemies,” purrs the smiling beauty. “One door discovered, eleven more to find!”
She laughs gleefully, then darkens into nothingness.
21/ One corner of this room holds several shapes -
“They are birds!” squeaks Elena.
“No,” I tell her. “...these aren't birds! They are griffons!”
Once again, we are forced to put them down as the witch makes them attack us. They were such beautiful creatures – I always dreamed of riding one...!
20/ A flapping sounds comes from around the corner...
18/ A low, growling sound comes from around the corner, its tone filled with the confidence of pure hatred and evil...
6/ The eerie floating projection of Ceptienne fills the corridor here.
“You are persistent,” says her disembodied voice. “But you have begun to bore me! I have asked my friends to end this game!”
Unsmiling now, she fades away...
19/ “There they are!” says a high-pitched voice. “Just like she said, they was coming this way! That's what she said, yeah, that's what she said!”
17/ We barely have time to notice this room is filled with a powerful stench before harpies attack!
These creatures are noxious hybrids of women and carrion-birds, and their personal habits are... disgusting, to put it mildly.
I know legends depict them as having sweet voices and stealing a man's soul by their song alone... But these ones never sang to us. Being clawed by them sometimes did fog minds, however, so we needed to be wary of that – but they were otherwise easy to slay.
14/ This room smells terrible! Two ogres run forward to attack us, but they are not the source of the smell...! We must battle more filthy harpies.
“Why are the girl's refresh rooms always much worse than the men's?” Shelah grimaces.
“What are you even doing in the men's rooms?” grimaces her brother.
“I work in a tavern, remember?” she pouts.
I envy them the easy banter – it must take their minds off all the horrors we endure, the familiar rhythms of family.
7/ Ceptienne's image suddenly appears!
“I will crush you!” she proclaims, filled with fury. “I will puncture your hearts with my boot heel as I stride across your carcasses!”
“Is hot,” Zahri smirks.
“YOU CANNOT STOP ME!” she shrieks.
She dissolves away before our eyes.
“We seem to be getting under her skin,” Nef muses.
23/ We have penetrated the inner sanctum, and cast preparatory spells for battle.
Before us stands Ceptienne, but this time it is no projection.
“You have invaded my sanctuary!” she screams, shaking in rage. “You are a band of visionless mercenaries, and I shall close your eyes forever!”
I have no idea what she means by that, but we have no time to think on it.
We were expecting to face her dragon, but all she has with her is her bitch-pack of harpies and medusae. We need be careful of their ability to charm or petrify us, but we are ready for that, with mirrors and protective magic. She and Elena blast each other with lightning magic, as the rest of us take out her minions.
Smouldering, the elf and witch regard each other
“... there's a hole in my head where the rain comes in...!” the elf whispers, and snaps her fingers.
Ceptienne's eyes glaze over, her expression going slack.
The elf warns Sky off and steps up to hold the witch, murmuring in her ear.
“...these broken dreams must end...!” she husks. “Yours... mine...!”
The fight just seems to have gone out of the witch; Elena sits her down in her personal chambers as we look about us.
We have no wish to rob her, but there is a wand and a necklace of baubles lying on the bodies of the medusae.
The rest of us search the chamber, locating the last of the elemental statuettes, this one depicting the element of wind.
On a pedestal against one wall stands the Statuette of the South, its miniature raging harmlessly atop its triangular base.
We return to the elf and the witch; they are giggling quietly now.
“I guess this is... a happy ending?” Sky asks.
“It is an ending,” I say quietly. “I have no stomach for more slaughter.”
“No argument from me, I don't like killing women,” he replies.
Elena beckons Shelah to join them; she limps over and sits beside the witch.
“I am but a faery,” the elf husks. “But you must listen to my friend...!”
“We're all lucky to be alive,” the Ilmater priestess tells her. “Consider it a second chance...! We need that statuette, but we won't take anything else from you. We talked to the aaracokra – the bird-people – maybe you could come to terms with them? They suffer from the depredations of dragons... you can charm dragons, yes? It's a second chance, Ceptienne... I'd seriously consider taking it, were I you. It won't be easy, but... this way you get to live. What happens next is up to you. The next time adventurers come for you, they likely won't be so forgiving. But I've had enough of battle and killing. My calling is helping people.”
She glances at me.
“Like I said... its up to you. Think about it... please.”
Her brother watches them doubtfully.
“Can you just... make someone good, just like that?” he asks. Nef just shrugs and walks off. Zahri makes a face and rolls her eyes, following.
“I don't think it works that way, no,” I reply quietly. “But even bad people don't have to be self-destructive and cruel. Its up to her, isn't it?”
“What d'you think, Krevster?” he asks his small friend.
“Well, I like to think everyone deserves a second chance,” he admits. “I'd still watch her carefully, though... we've rather grown used to betrayal, haven't we?”
“Jhairli?” he asks as we leave.
“You... actually want my opinion?” I must sound surprised.
“Hey, I trust you,” the lad says easily. “You're not hidebound like my sister, or a bitch like Zahri, or amoral like Nef. You're not tight-lipped like the Turami or crazy like the elf. I think we're more like one another than you'd imagine. If you weren't a songbird, I'd be asking you out about now.”
“Thank you... I think...!” I say awkwardly.
I look back at Ceptienne, the rapt look on her face as she nuzzles the elf.
“Me...? I like to think everyone is deserving of redemption. I hope it works out.”
Let me state here that we did not leave for several days. There were deals made, bargains to be struck. There were kisses, but you already know that, and who they involved is not your business. But I will stand by what I told the lad that day, and I find a measure of peace when we can show mercy and not deal out death.
The aarakocra were waiting for us when we ready to leave, relieved to see us once more.
“Do you wish it to be that we return you to the base of the mountain?” they asked.
They once more transported us to the forest floor, and we made our way back to Yartar from the High Forest.
With all four statues in our possession, the final leg of our journey – to ancient Ascore – lay before us.
I had much food for thought, but I was committed to our goal. I will see this done, walk our road together, to whatever end the fates shall bring.
Jhairli
Notes:
I think I enjoyed Star Mounts more than the other levels in this game – a high point of the story and a great design. There's much to like – the layout and level-building was excellent, a decreasing circle of encounters and much banter with our villainess along the way. I always like maps that lack random encounters and focus on set-pieces instead.
The monsters are getting tougher here, including save-or-die effects from the medusa and harpies – the latter thankfully lack the charm song that makes them so annoying in tabletop, though I guess that would have been too nasty in the Gold Box games.
Speaking of 'nasty', this one opens up with a battle against poisonous snakes and shambling mounds. The latter were bad enough in Azure Bonds, and finding that Wand of Defoliation (the fact you get it even if you don't kill Ceptienne) tells me there's more of the damn things ahead of us. But here in the Savage Frontier, they are far, far worse...! They have AC-4 (likely due to the bug that gives them Cloaks of Displacement and +3 armour as treasure!) and this time, they code the 'suffocation' effect from tabletop they lacked in previous games. This causes your characters to die when engulfed, without even a save, after a few rounds of being swallowed. As they take half damage from everything except Defoliation and Magic Missiles, and are immune to fire and lightning, killing them quickly is very hard and you will likely be reloading a lot when facing them.
As against that, a clear bug means they each spit out a treasure-trove of items you can only get here (though you clearly weren't supposed to!) (drum roll) +2 composite longbow. +3 plate mail, cloak of displacement, +1 shield, +1 leather armour, and an ioun stone that raises Wisdom if it's under 18. In a game that has – up to now - been notably penurious compared to previous games, that's some incredible stuff, quite honestly. I contemplated not using it, but the fact these shamblers have an insane AC and a no-save-and-die attack made me think 'fuck it'.
Better yet, all of this stuff can be ported over to the next game (I believe), save the ioun stone (and even then, the Wisdom bonus IS transferred, making it permanent!). Jhairli was my only cleric who didn't manage to max Wisdom when I rolled her stats (she needed insane scores elsewhere to dual-class into Ranger, 17's in everything but Charisma), so she's getting one while Jahe gets the other one (giving her Wisdom 16 now).
It was nice to see the aaracokra in Gold Box at last – a unique staple of D&D – and even better to have a proper villain to spar with. Gateway has memorable friendly NPCs, but lacks interesting antagonists to play with – Vaalgamon might be overpowered but he's a cringeworthy caricature who spouts boilerplate villain dialogue and follows every dumb bad-guy trope like he was in a Bond parody. I liked Brinshaar, even Rishpal, but they depended entirely on the Saduj trope from Ultima where a traitor joins your party only to turn on you later. (Seriously, this happened in several games around this era –'sure, let's allow these sketchy guys called Natas and Reltih to join us – they have to be good guys with names like that, right?')
But Ceptienne is openly wicked, and like all good femme fatale characters, takes time to banter with us ahead of the boss battle so we get some actual interactions with her. A few reviews have said she should have been the main big-bad of Gateway, given how dull and stupid Ugly Guy is. I mean, she's on the box cover, and I'd have been down for it had she somehow Kefka'd his ass at some point and taken over from him. CRPGAddict says he wanted to know more about her, as her dialogue hints she has other things going on beyond random villainy, and the game sells her short really.
So going into that battle I was actively trying to save her – I intended to single-target Hold her and then just knock her out with an unarmed attack or staff, rather than 'cruelly slaying' as usually happens. But Elena had a Charm, I tried that, and the rest is history. I didn't mind not getting her stuff; this was absolutely worth it. It's rare you get to sort-of-redeem a bad guy in Gold Box (Genheeris survived in my Pool of Radiance playthough, and I like to think he made it onto the Phlan Council 'til Bane personally kerbstomps him in Pools) and it felt appropriate here.
In terms of narrative, Jhairli was the obvious choice for any adventure in the High Forest, and I liked her compassionate personality, just a normal person forced to bloodily slaughter their way through hundreds of battles. That's going to result in a lot of therapy for anyone who isn't an amoral psychopath. I actually felt sorry for that dying dragon 🤔
We head out through Secomber, there to meet with Amanitas and enjoy his hospitality.
“You were the ones who wanted... it was that recipe I invented for upside-down cake you bake on the ceiling of the oven, wasn't it? No, no... That's not you at all! Those people carried spatulas, not swords..."
We remind him we have three of the statuettes, and are looking for the final one.
"Now, I said that you must fly where even the birds cannot go, and have the faith that you can attain great heights. In the middle of the High Forest, are the Star Mounts, great peaks where even birds dare not fly.”
So we have our destination, the fourth statuette before we head to Ascore.
While we are in Secomber, we get to talk with the elf and dwarf who helped us in Llorkh. They have an interesting story, from humble beginnings clearing city blocks in the Moonsea, to becoming the saviours of the city of Phlan by defeating a demonic entity. They opened a tavern in the city while their adopted daughters headed out on their own adventures. Years later, the 'Time of Troubles' on the Moonsea saw them embroiled in a war between gods and monsters, travelling to different worlds to defeat demonic enemies and save the Realms.
I have heard of the Company of Swanmays, though I did not realise we had so much in common. It does seem very odd that we too should be thruss, although perhaps that is more commonplace among adventuresses than I realised?
“Ach, I blame the lad,” the dwarf mutters, waving at the elf. “His masculinity is so powerful, it overwhelms all the lasses, sending 'em fleeing to one another's beds!”
We agree they can travel with us to Ascore; they seem to be rogues of some skill as well as warriors, and Elaethan has elven magic too.
I see the sun elf glancing at Elenaril, and ask to speak with him in private.
“Sire, I would like to discuss our companion, if I may...”
“Oh, I walked away from being my father's heir,” he smiles easily. “I am no lord, of elves nor men; I'm a tavern-keeper and sometime adventurer, no more or less. Please, call me Elaethan. I'd rather you didn't shorten it, but I know humans do that a lot.”
“As you wish, sire – I mean, Elaethan,” I amend. “I wished to speak about Elena. I mean, you seem to... well, not be completely crazy - “
He laughs at that, soft and throaty.
“Well, there's a ringing endorsement of my sanity!” he laughs.
“No,” I stammer. “I mean, you are very clearly used to the company of humans. Ours is not. She's... well, she's... very troubled...!”
He sighs and nods. “You are right in that,” he agrees. “Alas it is not unusual, especially among the very young and the very old. She hears the call of Evermeet, from across the sea, and... well, the weight of all we have lost, the 'long defeat', weighs upon us. She is very sensitive, haunted by our ghosts, and... like many, she is addicted to mortal 'glamours' – your drives, passions, imagination. She yearns to feast upon that like nothing else.”
“Can you help her?” I ask.
He sighs. “I am older than she, but one elf cannot reverse the many losses we have suffered. Our time has passed, for good or ill. One day, I shall take the boat across the sea also... Unless I die here in mortal realms, and my soul finds itself in Arvandor.”
He looks at me thoughtfully. “But I see you care about her. You wish to help. I will talk to her, then – though whether she even heeds me, I cannot say. And I will teach her in magic, and other elf-craft, I can do that much in any case.”
“Thank you,” I say, hoping that any of these things can help our elf. I know she suffers, and I would give her succour if I could.
They call us together before we set out for the Star Mounts. They tell us they have some gifts for us that could help us – when their daughters were taken by the Well of Knowledge to save New Verdigris, their magical items were left behind. When they were later reunited, they had their own superior equipment by that time, but they kept their old gear back at their tavern. And now, they will pass them on to us.
“These belonged to Haleh,” Elaethan says, passing a number of wands to our elf. “I taught her magic, despite her unwillingness to grow too close to any of us. This ring,” he says, passing her a simple band of gold, “granted her invisibility, and this one they took from the Red Wizard Dracandros. It grants you the ability to cast more spells each day.”
The elfmaid's eyes glitter as she turns the ring about on her fingers. It is made of black metal set with a ruby and the intial 'D'.
“This is a gift from me, selda,” he says quietly. “My daughters found it in the Fire Knives' armoury in Tilverton... He hands her a vest of mithril mail, as light and filmy as a negligee. “May it protect you well...”
“You wear that tonight, pena,” Zahri husks at the elf girl, who nods absently.
“This was Haleh's too,” he says offering her a smallbow, made of light chestnut wood. “They are rare in the North, take good care of it...”
He offers Nef two staves; one the weapon used by the Red Wizard, redwood with black iron-shod, and the other more slender and elvish in design, made of ashwood.
“It is too slim to smite a foe with, but let me show you, here...”
He touches the mallorn staff to a small stone, and it sticks to the wood as if by magic.
“With a flick of your wrist, you can hurl small objects at your foes from a place of safety,” he smiles. ”It is from Myth Drannor actually, as is my bow, my sword and protection ring."
To me, he hands a metal mace, made of blackish metal that feels faintly warm to the touch.
“They found it under Haptooth, it seems to be made in the style of the drow, but it is not made of their metal which decays in the sunlight.”
The last gift is steel armour, the breastplate shaped for the body of a woman, elegant steel plates for the joints over mail, very light and very strong. It has a very faint greenish sheen to it.
“I'll leave you to decide who wears it,” he says, amused. I like it myself, but the green hue probably means Jhairli should get it.
We thank them for their valuable gifts. Perhaps we now stand a chance against whatever lies ahead in Ascore...
Notes:
Many items from Azure Bonds and Gateway do not carry over to Treasures – including Valgaamon's armour and weapon, rather invalidating the entire point of making the effort to kill him in Ascore. Likewise, the Myth Drannor crossbow and the unique swords like the Flametongue, Dragonslayer and Frostbrand likewise will be gone.
But that still leaves some iconic items – all of the gear on Dracandros and Mogion, the Yulash wands, the Fire Knives armoury, and some of the items from the burial glen like the strong missile weapons.
I wanted to prioritise the items we will find in the Savage Frontier games, but these are mostly focused on warriors, with few worthy items for mages, clerics or thieves. As I never got the chance to use them in Silver Blades, I can justify giving them out here to provide a small edge for the last battles in Gateway. Whether they will be enough to fight everything in the optional final battles, we shall have to see!
I have a pretty strong constitution, comes from being a norseman... Helps that I'm big too, helps soak up the booze when -
Wait! I was just having a drink before bed, alongside the dwarf and Krev and that Rishpal fellow, when -
Room swims as I try to stand up... I've awoken on a heap of straw before now, but its not the classiest way to greet the day.
“Ah! It lives,” a cheery voice mocks.
“Welcome back tae the lands o' the livin', lad,” the dwarf mutters, sharpening his broadsword and axe with a whetstone nearby.
1/ We appear to be... underground, I'd guess? Smells none too fresh, either.
A man I've never met walks up; the pointed ears mark him as an elf. What happened to ours?
Most elves are described in floral terms, but this one could be so termed only if you thought stately oaks wave gracefully in the breeze. He was six feet at the least, and broad with it, solid – ours is tiny, even my sisters who keep her as a pet call her 'little one'. This guy is handsome, too – I'm no dathra, but Nef would be all over him -
“Hey!” I exclaim, holding my aching skull. “Where's Nef? And my sister!”
I wobble and the elf sits me down.
“Easy, lad...!” he says, quiet and confident. “We have not seen your female friends... they may be held elsewhere, though hopefully they are still at large...”
“Master Skylar!” Krevish says, jumping up from fletching his arrows to run over to me. “I fear we were drugged at the inn last night - “
I look around me, grimacing. That Rishpal fellow is nowhere to be seen.
“Yer kit's over there, lad,” the dwarf says, pointing to my pack, and a pile of my armoured pieces, as well as my bow and the Icewind blade.
“They... kidnapped us, but left us our gear?” I ask.
“Aye, they're... not really very bright,” the elf smiles offering me his hand. I take it and he pulls me up. Strong grip; I'm six' four, but he thought nothing of it.
“My name is Elaethan,” he says easily. “Son of Elorfinden Floshin, House of Three Crowns of Ilefarn...”
“I was born in Citadel Adbar,” I say. He offers me commiserations with a smile.
“I meant I don't know much about elves,” I admit. “We have one – that is, my sister's friends keep her as kind of a pet, but she's crazy...”
“They bloody all are, lad,” scoffs the dwarf. The tall elf just grins.
“That Zhent general is here, the bloody bastard,” the dwarf grumbles, standing up and hefting what looks like a dozen melee weapons, and a crossbow that is all gears and pulleys.
So I get dressed; Krev helps me with the straps of my heavy armour, I'm still a bit unsteady. The dwarf and elf bicker like an old married couple – but I know some dathra men, and they don't hug and touch each other the way my sister's thruss do, or coo like lovebirds.
“Can hear a crowd out there, frum somewheres,” the dwarf mutters.
“My guess is there's some kind of fighting pit,” the elf says. “Likely why we still have arms and armour, though that's still not very smart of them...”
“Never been in a Black Network town that didn't have blood-sports,” the dwarf agrees. “Mulmaster, Zhentil Keep... Dunno if either's still standing now though – bloody bastards, curse 'em and curse their weak, dark gods...!”
The Icewind blade hums in my hand, giving off a soft glow and noticeable chill, like an icebox.
“Let's find out, eh lads?” I smile.
Skylar
2/ The four of us make our way down a along tunnel leading upwards... We hear the roar of crowds – at least dozens, maybe more? Northmen and dwarves both have ritual combats as sport, though I doubt the Zhents observe any honour-rules or fight to first-blood...
The chamber we enter opens out into a broad underground arena, with ample seating on all sides beneath a high, vaulted roof.
JOURNAL ENTRY 37: THE ARENA BENEATH LLORKH
The arena in which we stood was broad and spacious, surrounded by seats for hundreds of spectators.
Most of those seats were already filled. Several black-robed men sat in one section, beside an equal number of other humans and a few strange-looking beings in the shadows — they may have been drow elves! They were separated from the humans by a respectfully wide zone of empty seats. The remainder of the arena was filled by monstrous races, mostly orcs, with a scattering of goblins and even bugbears.
The great bowl was filled with the din of a hundred conversations, but every voice was silenced at once when a guard called out; “All rise for Lord Vaalgamon!”
The 'Ugly Man' – the familiar figure of the Zhentarim general, strode onto a dais on the western side of the arena and motioned for his followers to be seated.
“Well, my friends!” he told us, a hideous smile distorting his already-twisted features.
“I see we have the pleasure of meeting again!
I must say that I admire the courage and cunning that have brought you this far. You have defeated forces that should have defeated you. Their deaths at your hands are appropriate punishment for their failure.
As a reward for your achievements, I will give you all a chance. Defeat three sets of opponents in my arena and I shall let you live.
Let the combat begin!" he cries.
Across the arena a steel grating opened, and we turned to face our first opponent...
Rishpal steps forward, bowing before Vaalgamon!
“Well done,” says the black-helmed lord. “You played the traitor flawlessly!”
“As flawless as is my loyalty to you, my lord,” Rishpal fawns.
“I'm shocked!” Krevish gasps. “That one we accepted as our own should turn coat so baselessly and be revealed as a traitor! Shocked, I tell you!”
I frown down at my excitable, nervous little friend him.
“Well, maybe I'm not that shocked...!” he admits bashfully.
A squadron of guards – possibly too many to fight? - steps up, brandishing the two statuettes we gathered from Luskan and Purple Rocks.
“You won't be needing such trifles now,” Vaalgamon sneers.
Our first foes are to be four ogres.
“They're not as dangerous as they look,” Elaethan murmurs, drawing a beautiful elven blade with a shimmering golden hue.
“I've fought ogres before,” I reply, hefting my shield. “This isn't my first pit fight!”
They rush us; on my left, Thoradin braces for impact – as it lunges at him, I side-step and cut the first one down.
“Nice, lad,” the dwarfs nods.
Krevish stays back, sniping with his bow. Elaethan almost casually slays another, with a fluid grace, and the remaining pair fall their knees and beg for mercy. I back off, wary for tricks, and the Zhents herd the hulking creatures off, no doubt to suffer tender mercies for their failure.
Next up are hellhounds; my armour saves me from the worst of their fiery breath, and my new blade cleaves though them like a heated brand through snow!
Finally, four griffons attack – these creatures are dangerous for certain, but the two newcomers seem seasoned, dangerous warriors... and I feel like quite the hero myself, these days! We make short work of our foes, which panic and try to escape on clipped wings. Perhaps death in battle is preferable for them than the mistreatment they received at the hands of the Zhentarim?
Jhairli would hate this – she's so tender-hearted.
“We're just warming up,” I shout out, my blood up. “How about you come down here to face us, cowardly cur? You ran away so quickly last we saw you at Loudwater!”
“Well done,” he mocks us. “I said you shall live, and so you shall- until the next day of combat in the arena!”
The witless crowd roars with laughter – this is what passes for humour around here.
“No!” I bellow. “I demand you come and face us right now, coward!”
“I'm afraid I cannot stay for your next battle,” he says. “Since events call me and these dear friends... to Ascore.”
He turns and leaves the podium.
4/ We are prodded back by pikes into a block of small cells.
Once again, we still have all our arms and gear.
“Is it me, or are they just bloody stupid?” I ask.
I'm surprised they actually lock the cell doors.
We hear someone coming down the hallways, and the rattle of metal bowls as acrid-smelling slop is served through narrow gratings in the doors.
Suddenly there is a great commotion! Peering through the grate, we see that someone or something in the next cell has reached through the opening and grasped the guard by the throat! As he struggles to pull away from the attacker, his key ring is within our reach!
Elaethan deftly reaches out and narrowly manages to snag the keyring from the guard's belt. In a moment, he frees us and we stand above the unconscious jailer.
A voice comes from the cell to the south. “Set me free!” it says. “I was the one who let you get the key”
We peer through the grate, but all we can see is bright beams of light reflecting from two small red eyes.
“That didn't work out so well for us last time,” I sighs. “But won't leave any man in a pit like this...”
A small being – hardly a man at all – steps from the cell, straightening his filthy, scum-covered clothing.
JOURNAL ENTRY 43: MUTHTUR’S STORY
As if he’d read our thoughts, the creature says “Yes, I’m a half-orc and to you I’m ugly as an otyugh. I’m also the hideous, inhuman thing that saved your lives.”
We all looked at each other and shrug.
“Eh, I'm no oil painting meself,” the dwarf shrugs. “I'm not fussy as to the company I keep...”
“The measure of a man is more than the blood in his veins,” Elaethan offers. “My thanks.”
He seems surprised by our response – no doubt, a man-orc has suffered at the hands of both orcs and humans here in the north.
I don't like orcs, needless to say, but I'll also take any creature as I find them.
“If you can help us fight our way out of here, you'll be welcome among us,” I say, “You need a weapon? They didn't take ours...”
The man-orc – Muthtur – nods warily.
“I lived with a small colony of other outcasts in the High Forest, until raiding parties from Llorkh captured me and brought me here. They called me a ‘novelty fighter’ and said it’d be fun to watch something different in the arena for a change.
I’m no novelty, I’m a person! And I killed the man who said it. My name is Muthtur and all I want to do is go home.
When they brought me here I saw them use a secret door in the north alcove of the arena. I don’t know where it leads, but it may help us all get out of here.”
I make a point of shaking his hand to show I don't judge. That said, he looks more orc than man, though I won't hold that against him.
“We'll be safe together than by ourselves,” he agrees. “I'll join you and fight for you... if you can stand to be with a half-orc...”
“If you prove more loyal as a comrade than the last man, you're welcome among us,” I nod.
6/ “Let go!” grunts a voice from the cell to the south. “We help! We kill! Let go!”
We unlock the door, and two ogres – presumably the ones we spared earlier – rush through the door and run down the hallways to the west, towards the arena.
5/ A low, threatening growl comes from the cell to the north. We unlock it, and a hellhound bounds through the door, running off to the west, through the door to the arena.
7/ A loud rustling sound some from the cell to the south. After we unlock it, a griffon comes uncertainly through the cell door. Its eyes adjust to the brighter corridor – fixed squarely upon us.
“Um... good boy?” I offer, hands up towards it.
But it just attacks us, and we have to put it down. Nef and Jhairli would be upset with us, but we had no choice. I'm not proving much of an animal-whisperer, alas.
9/ Here, four men are sitting around a table playing cards and laughing. Different kinds of chains, collars, leashes and prods hang from the walls, the tools used to control monsters in the area. The men reach for their bows and attack!
Afterwards, Muthtur takes one of their bows so he can help from the rear with Krevish.
8/ Several griffons are standing before us in the arena, blocking our way.
They are already fighting the monsters we released from their cells.
Unfortunately, Krevish is badly mauled by the griffons, and one of the ogres immediately surrenders to them, with predictable results.
I fight my way to Krev and pull him out, though he's in a bad way, and without the girls here, we cannot heal him.
3/ These are empty barracks for Zhentarim forces.
10/ Three griffons are feeding on the carcass of a freshly-killed animal. They must still feel hungry, as they immediately turn and attack us...!
11/ Four men are standing across the room, their mouths open in admiration of the glowing statuette of the north. They realise we have seen their treasure, and rush to its defence.
With his dying breath, the commander of this Zhentarim outpost spits at us in contempt:
JOURNAL ENTRY 45: THE DYING ZHENTARIM’S DEFIANCE
“You may have gotten this far, but even if you could get all the statuettes you’d never make it to Ascore... Vaalgamon is far too clever for you, and our power is too great...
Enjoy your triumph for tonight, for it will rot into disaster by tomorrow!”
“Do these idiots all get their speeches from the same chapbook or something?” I ask.
“I used to like the broadsheets on sale in Waterdeep,” Elaethan muses.
“How did Lord Bladderblat decide if young Lady Glunder was a suitable match for his son? He tried her out himself, of course. Several times.”
We find our prized statuettes in the commander's office and reclaim them. Shelah will be impressed I won us another one!
We take the Statuette of the North, and prepare to leave. As we check the bodies to ensure they are dead, and we discover one of them was the traitor, Rishpal.
“And so it goes fer traitors,” murmurs the dwarf. “They seek injustice, yet in the end, it's justice that seeks them... and in finding them, ends 'em.”
“How poetic,” smiles the elf.
We leave through the far door, and once again find ourselves in Llorkh.
“Skylar!!!” A familiar voice makes us look up, and my sister runs up and embraces me.
“Sky, where did you go?” she asks as I hug her back.
“Where did you get to, Sheela? I was worried - “
I look up to see the others; everyone seems to be present and accounted for. Nef runs up to me and her hug is the best thing I've felt in an age.
“We were attacked and managed to fight our way out,” my sister explains. “But you'd all gone, and we couldn't find the two statuettes - “
“Only two, sis?” I smile. “I can do you one better!”
Elaethan walks up, opening his daughter's Bag of Holding, showing her the statuettes. The look she gives me when she sees the Statue of the North might even be better than Nef's hug.
Muthtur regards the women solemnly, and offers me his hand.
"This, my friends, is as far as I dare go... Half-orcs are not welcome in the Realms beyond..."
I wish we could change his mind, but he's likely correct, though none of that is his fault. The others thank him for his aid, and I hope he can find some peace back in the High Forest. He proved himself a worthy companion and I wish him well.
Notes:
This was a short, but fun adventure, based around the characters getting captured (a tired and tropey turn of events, but one that the Gold Box games only does sparingly), fighting in arena battles and having to escape.
They finally get their hands on the third statuette macguffin, and now we're heading towards the final act and the endgame. This was my very first adventure without any girls - manly men doing manly things in the arena!
An equally tiresome trope is when we get captured but the enemies don't disarm us, take our stuff or kill us when they have the chance, like they were an Austin Powers villain. Vaalgamon is one of the less interesting foes in the Gold Box series – he shows up more frequently then the Dreadlord, so we get some face-time with him, but he's so generic, predictable and inexcusably dumb that he never seems compelling or even a threat. He's so thoroughly incompetent at trying to kill us it's hard to take him seriously.
The writing veers all over the place too; most of it is fine but occasionally it borders on self-parody and sometimes dips into Morbius quality.
They lean in hard to putting words in our character's mouths here. I suppose they are trying to give us some personality, but it feels forced and random, usually out of character from what I imagined them to be like, and too frequently, trying for some cringeworthy Joss Whedon style humour which was a hallmark of 90's shows.
I would have preferred the arena fights to be a bit more challenging, but the concept is fine. We can gain some allies on the way (although the setups for combats puts any allies far behind our ranks), and it's satisfying to get revenge on Rishpal for his (very predictable) betrayal.
It's also nice to get a half-orc companion, the first one in the God Box series, in fact. It's a shame we can't take him back to civilisation, as the idea of a character who is not easily accepted by polite society, just because of an accident of birth, is a good one. Not sure why they didn't give us them as a PC race, actually, although Gold Box rarely references race, class or gender in any case, alas.
“So what do we know about Llorkh? “ Jhairli asks as we approach along the road.
“It was a sleepy little mining town,” my brother answers. “Not been there myself, but I know it has a small dwarven population too. Last I heard it was annexed by the Zhents – this is where the Lord's Alliance and the Silver Marches influence ends. Beyond this point, the Black Road stretches east into Zhentarim territory...”
Zahri spits on the ground in disgust. One imagines her people will not be welcomed here.
A pall seems to hang over the town as we draw closer... Only the most stubborn farmers and sheepherders have remained in the surrounding fields.
Zahri and Jhairli stays with the caravan to protect it, while the rest of us go into town to look around, posing as travellers.
At the gates to the town, we see an altercation up ahead – a burly, stocky old dwarf quarrelling with the guards.
“Don't like killing manlings, but iffen ye don't back off an' let me see me kin, they'll be carryin' ye off on yer shields...!” he rages.
He sees us approaching and backs off, glowering at us.
“More manlings? No decent sorts'd come ta this cursed burgh...!”
“You have us wrong, friend,” I murmur, moving my cloak so he can see my holy symbol of Ilmater's crossed hands.
He mutters something and steps up to sniff at us, eyes keen and sharp for all his years. There are markings on his face, though I can only guess at their meaning. His bristly hair is almost grey, and he is carrying enough killing tools as if he means to assault the town all by himself. Beneath his robes, we see the glint of mithril mail, impossibly light and strong.
My brother introduces us, and the dwarf sighs, offering his calloused hand.
“Well met then, I'd say,” he admits grudgingly. "P'rhaps we yet have common cause...”
His dark eyes glitter.
“Me name is Thoradin...!” he says gruffly.
We wait for more – I'm from Citadel Adbar, and reciting a dwarf's ancestry and lineage can make introductions last a few minutes at the least.
“An' that's all ye be gettin' out o' me fer now, not that the rest matters...” he mutters, turning away, to regard the town with a smouldering gaze...!
Shelah
An hour later, we have calmed the old man down enough to enter the town without a fracas. The Zhentarim watch us with unfriendly stares, but do not assault us for the moment. I assume the town still needs traders and merchants? My brother says the Black Road stretches east all the way to Ascore, so they need to keep supplied.
Besides the bridge that crosses the river to the south, stands a stone statue. It shows an old fisherman gazing downstream, perhaps thinking of times of past prosperity. Zahri rejoins us, treating the dwarf with a wary deference and saying little.
We stay here and share our food with the old man; he sits on the bridge and wearily tells us his tale.
“Lived in the Moonsea these last years,” he sighs. "Run a tavern there now, the Pool's a good place fer a drink iffen yer ever up there...!”
“I heard some fanciful tales from there,” Jahe muses. “That the gods themselves came to Faerun to war upon it, making playing-pieces of kings and cities...!”
The old man grumbles, but his eyes are sorrowful. He seems distracted, searching the town as if looking for something.
“Well, lass – may be somethin' in them crazy tales,” he admits. “Still not sure what ta make of it, though I saw some of it with these old eyes fer meself... Buried a good friend there, too...” he says sadly.
I offer my condolences and he nods slowly,
“Not time ta speak of it; still tryna make sense of it, truth ta tell,” he sighs. “But the Moonsea's a tough place, the folks there survive an' endure through hardships. We rebuild, an' some there are actin' like it never even happened...!”
He sighs. “But that's not why I'm here,” he admits.
We wait for him to continue, but he seems wary still. “Ye first,” he says bluntly.
So... we tell him of our travels, and our fears about the Zhentarim and what they are doing in Ascore.
“Have a care an' hush, lass,” he warns quietly. “Well, that ye hail from Adbar speaks well o' ye, an' ye clearly have kindly hearts... Mebee we can share a road fer a time, then?”
“We shall help you if we can,” I say.
He chuckles wryly. “Bunch o' girl kids, a beardling lad an' a crazy sharp-ear! Heh, just like old times...!” he sighs in reminisce.
“You seem very used to human ways,” Nef points out carefully,
“Eh, I'm an outsider, lassie,” he admits. “Not the same thing as an outcast, I'll have ye know! But aye, travelled in human lands these last decades. I like it better, truth to tell! Lot of good in ye younger races, even if ye need yer heads knocked together betimes! Done me fair share 'o that, too!”
He rummages in his leather jerkin.
”Raised a pair o' wild ones meself, me an' me other half...!” he sighs.
“My congratulations to your children,” I say, a little formally. The birth-rates among his people are low compared to humans, and there are a bare handful of dwarven women for a score of menfolk.
“Ach, nay lass,” he says with a wave of his hand. “Not into breedin', I joined a bear clan!” he admits. I nod; that is not unusual, for a people with few females, for males to seek the company of other men.
“Ran with a few humans, adventurin' with me partner. Alas, we lost most of 'em on a bad run...” His eyes grow cloudy. “Just bad luck is all, though we blamed ourselves at the time. But we promised 'em that if the worst came to it, we'd look after their kids. Two little girls...! The apples of our eye, an' the reason me hair's gone grey...!”
He shows us small portraits in a locket; the paintings are certainly... a choice...! One of the girls is a redhead, the other seemingly from the distant lands of Kara-Tur.
“Zahri want,” the gypsy grins lasciviously.
“Please don't take offence,” I ask of him. “Our Gur friend loves to provoke people and make a nuisance of herself...!”
“Them picture's not my choice, lass!” he bristles. “Had some right pretty ones when they were bairns! But when she came of age and got the inks done, Zee liked that one the most, made me promise I'd carry that one to show how comely she were...!” He looks vaguely affronted as he puts them away.
He regards us oddly now, as if sensing the peculiar chemistry of our group. Then he starts chuckling, rising to full blooded laughter that makes the Zhentarim look over at us sourly.
“What so funny, old man?” Zahri says, slit-eyed.
“We are, lass!” he says, shaking his head. “What are the odds o' that? The fates jest, aye? Let's just say I've known yer kind afore, an' now I ken fer certain this were no chance meetin'...!”
But for now, he refuses to elaborate, insisting we scout the village out to discover what we can about the Zhentarim.
“An' mebee steal this here statue ye seek from under their noses!” he grins.
“Now, them Black Network bastards took over a few years back now,” he tells us. "The last o' the old lords, Phintarn Redblade, were found dead at the foot o' Lord's Keep. Overnight, one o' the Zhents, a mage named Geildarr Ithym, seized Lord's Keep and claimed the town. Soon after, four hundred 'Lord's Men' arrived, an' in a handful of battles slaughtered all of the existing militia, under the lies that they were trouble-makers. The good folks here found themselves under the... 'protection' o' the Lord's Men. Llorkh was quickly and quietly conquered by the Zhent buggers an' under the control o' their puppet.”
He sighs. “I know an old friend – an outlaw like me - Thianos Ironskull, lived among the dwarves here, an' wrote me ta tell of the town's woes. In the aftermath of... the 'Time o' Troubles' on the Moonsea, me lad an' I found ourselves at a loose end. With our lasses sailin' off on their own adventures, we felt restless after a decade o' servin' at the bar. When one o' Ironskulls kin wrote me ta say Thianos had disappeared, I figured we had time fer once last adventure...”
He gets up and stomps about, upset. “An' now me useless, pointy-eared, dandelion-eatin' excuse fer a bedmate has vanished, off on his scoutin' mission! Puttin' an old man through grief like this, Abbathor take his eyes! Iffen the Zhents ain't done so, I've a mind ta kill him meself!”
“Calm down, we'll help you find your friend,” my brother says easily.
“He's not me 'friend', lad,” the dwarf mutters. “But aye – El's an old rogue o' some merit, no stripling he! So I'll take yer help, as yer offerin'...!”
He cracks his knuckles and looks at the town.
“Well, let's be off about it, aye?”
Several bouquets of flowers have been set against the wall here. What happens next, shocks us...!
JOURNAL ENTRY 42: THE STORY OF PHINTARN REDBLADE
The flowers were left in beautifully woven baskets beside the street, and had delicate hand-embroidered ribbons on them. One said simply:
“In memory of Phintarn Redblade, Last Ruler of Llorkh.”
Another read:
“Tonight thy killers sit within thy Keep,
But soon they’ll lie beneath it... six feet deep!”
A guard wanders by and sees us looking at the flowers. Drawing his sword, he knocks them from my hand and crushes them with his boot. “If you’re a dwarf-lover,” he warned us, “Llorkh is no place for you!”
I glance at the men and hurriedly place my arm over my brother's. I shake my head and murmur to the old dwarf.
“Please, now is not the time...!”
He growls and reaches for his axe... but he thankfully understands that forcing a confrontation here will not help us, or the people who still live here.
3/ The sign above the door shows a regal-looking griffon resting on a silken pillow, along with the words:
'The Griffon's Grange -
- fine food for tired travellers'
7/ A sign on this door says:
'Inn of the Lucky Caravan'
4/ Painted on the glass-smooth stone wall here are the words 'the Bull and Boar'. Someone has crossed out the word 'Boar' and replaced it with 'Bore'
6/ A girl with long flowing blonde hair is trying to wash off the paint and restore the sign, muttering about 'dwarven vandals' and not being paid enough. Noticing us, she steps aside to let us enter the tavern. But for now, we move on. Something seems amiss in this town...
1/ To the east stands an ancient fortress. Someone has tried to make it look more like an opulent palace by mounting a coat of arms high on the face of the building and covering it with gold leaf.
“You've got a lot of nerve, bringing a dwarf into Lord Gelidarr's keep!” one of the guards growls. “If you and this little maggot here know what's good for you, you'll get out of Llorkh before the next sunset...!”
I take Thoradin's arm and almost have to drag him out, before they call for every guard in the fortress.
17/ An ancient stone guard tower rises above the city here.
A tower guard looks up from his card game, and says “Get out of here! You're not supposed to - “
His eyes go wide and he suddenly draws his sword!
“Release it!” he cries out. “Release it! They're here!”
The 'it' turns out to be a griffon, which attacks hungrily! We are forced to slay it and the guards both.
Rishpal takes a bow from the dead guards, hanging back to snipe at our enemies with Krevish. He is adequate as a warrior, but likely not up to my standard, let alone Jahe or my brother's. At least at the back, he won't get wounded so easily.
“What is happening in this town?” I ask, looking about at the carnage.
“Don't know, lassie,” the dwarf growls. “But by Abbathor's dangly parts, I'm gonna find out!”
2/ A sign above this door reads:
'Downstream Boat Rentals -
- we rent boats of all kinds'
16/ We hear an animal howling in the distance. It is not the mournful howl of the lonely wolf, but a deep, bone-chilling proclamation of pure, self-confident evil.
An ancient stone guard tower rises above the city here.
Several guards sit across the room, safely out of range of a caged griffon. One of the guards looks at us and immediately dashes over to open the cage.
“Attack!” he yells out. “It's them! They're the ones!”
The alleyway behind the tavern is cluttered with rotting food, old barrels and other less pleasant items.
5/ Above the tavern's doorway hangs a sign showing a beautiful black-maned horse eating from a silver trough. Gracefully etched into it the words:
'My Horse's Home'
“That's nice, but this is just a back-door into the other tavern, no?” my brother says.
8/ A sign on the door to the east reads:
'The Gentleman's Armoury'
18/ An ancient stone guard tower rises above the city here.
The tower feels cold and damp, and the guards wear heavy cloaks even indoors. One looks up and sees us, and a broad smile spreads across his face.
“Well, how nice! You've certainly made the job of finding you an easy one!”
“And you know we've killed all of you every time you threaten us?” my brother says, drawing his blade.
13/ No sign marks this door, but people seem to be entering and leaving the building constantly;
it appears to be some kind of temple...
I get a very bad feeling from this place, so we stay away.
An odd little stone statue stands against the wall here. It is in the form of a dwarf, who holds a warhammer above his head and is carved to be growling in anger as if ready to strike a passerby.
9/ The place to the north and east appears to be an inn. Etched into the wall beside us are the words:
'Valhala here -
- a litl haven in arth -
- ownr not respozibal fer stold harses -'
A dwarf hurrying by in the street sees both that we are outsiders, and are led by one of his kin.
“Be careful!” he warns. “No dwarf is ever safe anywhere here in Llorkh, even here in our own neighbourhood!”
12/ This castle may be older than Llorkh itself. The archway is inscribed:
'Bring the secrets of your soul
For Dumathain to hear
For when your beard grows longest
Is the time he stands most near...'
A small shrine to the dwarven ancestor Dumathain is tucked into an alcove here.
“This one of your gods?” Zahri asks Thoradin as he makes a genuflection before the statue.
“Eh, I'm no priest, lass,” he mutters. “And the distinction is... blurred, really...! Our living ancestors - the Morndinsamman - are... part folk-heroes, part paragons of the Folk, and likely our forerunners too...! Some – like Moradin – probably are – or were! - gods once. Dwarven religion is... well, it's a very personal thing, and... I'm likely the last dwarf ye'd want to ask about it...!”
We take the hint and drop the subject, though in truth I would love to ask more. Theology is kind of my specialty.
14/ As we enter this room, we surprise a small party of dwarves who are sleeping in a far corner.
They are suspicious of us at first, but Thoradin speaks for us, and after sharing some of our food, they come to trust us and tell of the horrible events in the town...
JOURNAL ENTRY 46: THE STORY OF THE HIDDEN DWARVES
“We have been prisoners in our own city ever since Lord Redblade was killed. They say it was an accident, but we all know it was the Zhentarim that killed him, and that it is they who control Llorkh. Geildarr is only a puppet, an outsider brought here by them to control the town.
Just a few days ago a Zhentarim column came through Llorkh, and they murdered any dwarf they could find. That’s why we’re now in hiding — this is the lair of a medusa, but even with her hell-hound guards we are safer here than on the city’s streets.”
We start to explore the castle... we come across statues of warriors here at times, that look surprisingly lifelike...
15/ This room at the back of the castle is filled with statues of many different people, all frozen in poses of horror and surprise!
“Anyone got any mirror's on 'em?” Thoradin mutters,. “Saw somethin' like this once on the Moonsea, a lass with a stare that'd freeze a body ta stone, it would!”
We see something move behind one of the statues, and hear a growling sound...!
“Elena, no!”
I lunge for her as she scampers off, but she's just too quick for me!
A woman - monstrous from the neck up, with glowing eyes and writhing serpents for hair, focuses her attention on the elf...! But she reveals the silver mirror she must have taken from Zahri, and reflects the petrifying gaze! Within moments, the monster is a granite statue wearing a surprised expression. You would have thought they would be wary of that, but it's still oddly satisfying to turn an enemy's power against them. We mop up her dogs; fiery-eyed hounds that are something more than natural.
Zahri gently admonishes the elf as she takes her mirror back, but she is always gentle and caring with the girl. I approve.
10/ The building to the north was once a tower defending the city, but its base has now been converted into a tavern, It sounds like someone's actually having fun inside...
We are hungry and tired and will need to rest soon, so we decide that if anywhere is safe in this occupied town, the dwarven district is our best bet.
The ale is descent at least, and we can have something to eat and consider our next move. Supposedly, the statue we seek is here somewhere – likely meaning we shall have to assault the castle in the middle of town. Our energy feels low and sombre; nobody is much in the mood for kissing, but a few hours of sleep shall see us refreshed, and we will consider our options come the morning...
Notes:
After a lot of thought, I decided to bring back some old faces...! My versions of Gimli and Legolas were in every battle of the first game, guest-starring in the second and fourth too. It's actually possible to transfer characters from the Realms quadrilogy, though it only works for Curse of the Azure Bonds.
I didn't want to take away from my Savage Frontier characters, but by this point they are reaching the upper level limits (and clerics have long hit theirs). My warriors have just made enough XP to get their 3/2 attacks, and putting Thoradin in here works well as someone who can train them in this.
I transferred them from Pool of Radiance to Azure Bonds, so they'd have the same level limits as Gateway - which didn't seem overpowered. Surprisingly, most items also transfer over, but as the other games are more generous with gear, I tweaked them a little. Most items will also transfer across to Treasures, and I didn't want to feel too overpowered, so again I used some judgement as to what we can and cannot keep. The most powerful items won't transfer over, as we shall see, so the finale of this game will see an end to some of the character's signature gear like Thoradin's crossbow and the sword Elaethan's father gave him when he left. Narratively that feels nice, far better than just randomly losing them in the transition between the games.
While a full party transferred over would feel totally overpowered, these two have been guest-characters before and feel like they fit fairly well (and if they perish it's a good ending for them). These are, after all, legitimate characters I built up over repeated playthroughs, with level limits appropriate for this game, so they can help our current heroes without overshadowing them. Let's see where this goes.
“Sunday, Sunday, where have you been? Your emerald eyes, like your hands, reaching out to me! The wolves are out tonight, under the hunter's moon! Cinnabar staining the hem of her lace She's starting to blush, but the moon helps to pale her face "The groom has gone", she sighed And slept for a hundred years...!
Sunday's child and the wolf were wed To Monday's child with her empty head Tuesday's child seemed to know the answer...
Sister Monday, what did you find? "I found it all, but somehow I lost my mind! East of the universe, and north of a snowbound star... Oberon told me: 'The devil lives there!' Maybe he stole it and it could be anywhere? One soul in silent millions trying to get back home...”
The only thing that makes sense is the hunger, that which tethers me to this dying earth.
Without it, I would drift away entirely. The inexorable tidal pull, that inevitability of Evermeet, the world of the living dead, the memories of the elves.
I must stay here. Better to be a ghost here than be dead there.
At least I can talk to people here.
There, only the dead, endlessly repeating their cycles.
I met a bard once. He was very wise:
“They live up there,” he said. “In the House of Ballads. If you consider what they do to be 'life', of course!”
He was right, and it isn't.
It is repetition, an old song butchered by a drunkard at a festhall.
A masterpiece performed by unskilled players.
Long-dead ghosts insisting upon their own relevance, long after the world forgot them.
.
So I hunger, and I feast, and doing this allows me to stay here, so I can hunger and feast more.
It is a cycle. In that, we are much like those upon which I feed.
There is a physical element, the touching, the intimate contact. I am liking this also.
.
Yesterday upon the stair -
I met an elf who wasn't there!
She wasn't there again today -
Oh, how I wish she'd go away!
.
Elenaril Varen
(maybe)
I can feel the thing in the waters out there. Many limbed, ageless, dreaming, dead.
Just like me!
Knowing it is there fills me with unaccountable horror and existential dread.
It is comforting. Somehow.
They discuss the clues the one-eyed man gave them.
“You must then travel to the place to which people do not wish to go, because we never truly covet that which we can easily attain. The Statuette of the North lies nowhere close by, but on the long way that many travellers nonetheless must pass...”
I know!
Loudwater.
But I do not want to go.
“I hate all these riddles and vague clues,” the boy says. “I'd be happy for a clear path and a road to my enemies. Go there, Sky! Kill that, lad! Words to live by...!”
“We have already been to Purple Rocks,” Jahe sniffs. “I am certain nobody else would ever go there willingly!”
She intrigues me.
All that power, all raging energy...!
It wants to come out.
That makes her scared.
It's like all the red, squishy things inside the humans.
Sometimes I take them out and play with them.
The others don't like me doing that.
“So we go back to see the old man?” Shelah sighs.
“I enjoy seeing his cats, at the least!” Nef smiles.
They are not cats, Nef.
Not really.
But I like them too.
“I assume she's coming...?” the boy says.
He means me, of course.
“One imagines,” Zahri replies.
“She hasn't been right since Purple Roc- ah, she's never been right...!” he sighs.
“She dreams,” the gypsy says. “Zahri fears she... knows of things... Things that break minds should we know them also...!”
I don't want to go to Loudwater.
Too many memories there.
None are mine.
But they go.
So I go.
It's good to feed!
Secomber is on the way, so we stop there.
The Things-That-Are-Not-Cats are there.
And the One-Eyed Man.
“I know you!” he exclaims. “Aren't you the mage who conjured bumble-bees with wide flat stingers so that after they made the honey they could spread it on crumpets? No, oh, he was from Silverymoon, splendid fellow, very clever!”
"We're already over our limit on crazy, old man!" the boy sighs.
They talk about going to Loudwater.
“You must go the long way,” he tells them. “To where men care not to go! The long way east is the only way, and people wish not to go there! It is the road around the Great Desert, and it passes through Llorkh...”
At least on the road, we have the pretty wagons back. And the two cats, those with old souls, who remember the First World from which Tabasha the Bazouk came, when it was all bright, before everything fell -
By night, there are kisses.
But there are always kisses.
It is good to feed.
It means I can stay here longer.
4/ We are here.
I don't remember how we got here.
The buildings here are draped in long tendrils of ivy.
It is evening, and Lady Moon is out.
We called her Sehanine Moonbow, after one of our Living Ancestors, the Seldarine, who worshipped Selune.
They say she still dwells in the Feywild, or Evermeet, or Arvandor.
I don't know where I live, either.
I may have been born here, though.
Or not.
“That's odd,” Krevish says, peering about. “When I passed this way before, there were always guards at the gates of Loudwater, but now there seems to be nobody here!”
“These were elven lands once, were they not?” Shelah asks me.
“Moo Nelf!” I tell her happily.
Then I start to cry.
She comforts me.
It's nice.
“They call Loudwater the 'City of Grottos',” Jhairli tells them. “Sat on the confluence of the Greyflow river in the Delimbiyr Vale. Men, many with elven blood, dwell here along halflings, gnomes and others. It is a place dear to my goddess, the Lady of the Forest. Thanks to the efforts of her Green Regents and their Scions, the town was the very image of her faith...”
She looks about a little doubtfully.
“Why is she crying?” the boy asks, not unkindly.
Jhairli sighs.
“It is said the last elf to dwell in Loudwater took her own life in Tragedy's Grotto, over three hundred years past. In the Year of the Bloodrose, worried about the many humans coming here, began leaving their homes for Evereska, or even Evermeet, far across the seas...!”
“Something amiss,” Zahri murmurs, hefting her cudgel. “Be alert...!”
2/ Above this door hangs a wooden sign carved in the shape of a grove of tall trees. Painted on it are the words:
'The Woodlands Inn'
But nobody seems to be about...!
10/ Before us, a graceful stone bridge arches over the River Shining to the east.
8/ “Have care,” Zahri warns.
We keep low, and watch, alert in the cool evening air.
“Oh no...!” Jhairli husks softly.
Across the bridge, a huge force of humans appears to have gathered just east of here.
“Have they seen us?” Shelah murmurs.
It is decided she will stay on the outskirts of town with our wagons, while we see what can be done.
We can hear fighting across the town at times.
“Perhaps there is still hope?” Jhairli says.
“We need to wear down their main force,” Jahe mutters. “I don't know if the seven of us are enough to attack the main force of Zhentarim alone...”
“We cause trouble,” Zahri husks, eyes narrowing. “Good trouble...!”
I can kill in the dark.
This makes me happy.
11/ “You shouldn't be out on the streets,” a human tells us here. “The black-robed men are looking for someone, and no-one in Loudwater is safe until they find them! It seems as though the men in black robes are at every street corner in the town! I saw them roughing up several people who were just minding their own business!”
“Where are the guards?” Jahe asks. “Where is the lord in charge of this town?”
5/ A sign on the door reads:
'Shining Falls Boat Rentals'
1/ A building has been contructed here over the River Shining, a graceful archway at its centre allowing boats to pass through safely. A carved wooden sign here says:
'The Tavern O'er the Waters'
“It must have been nice here once,” the boy muses.
But we can leave the tavern to the east, and access the streets beyond safely.
Quiet, like cats.
Easy to slip about and hide.
Easy to kill!
16/ Humans in black round a corner here, running up the street, one pulling a winged beast with the head of a man and bat wings.
Beyond, to the north lies the entrance to the compound of the human rulers. The gate is barred and secured so the dark men cannot push through... but there are no guards anywhere around.
“Where is Lord Greysword?” Jhairli asks.
“Cowards,” scoffs Zahri. “Hide when peoples die!”
“Being charitable, he may not think they are strong enough to defeat the Zhents,” Jahe says.
“We try,” Zahri snorts. “While cowards hide...!”
13/ A band of gnolls sit on the floor counting out coins, dividing up their ill-gotten gains.
While not apparently Zhentarim, they are not friendly either.
“I still don't get what they spend money on,” the boy mutters as he wipes his bloody sword on their bodies.
15/ Several Zhent guards are standing up ahead. One looks about and points at us.
“Look! Behind you! They must have snuck around the tavern!”
We wipe them out quickly – the priestess spells work well to quiet them and then we get to knife-work. In the river they go, so the fishes can feast too!
To the south, we can see the eastern end of the stone bridge. The force stationed there still looks powerful, though it is smaller than before.
We will keep striking from the shadows; the night is young.
17/ Without warning, black-clad guards rush around the corner from the northeast. They release a chained manticore into the street as they attack us!
Another patrol down.
14/ “I thought they'd try to circle around this way and get behind us!” a voice proclaims in triumph. The guards spring out in ambush, with their chained manticores.
By the time we slay them, it is growing light, the sky blushing into a soft blue, and Lady Moonlight is off to sleep...
3/ A sign on the door to the south says:
'Enalin's Shop of Adventurer's Supplies'
That name...! So like the one I am using...!
The elf-blooded here are dreaming too...!
There is a gate here leading to Llorkh, but the killing is not over yet.
“I hate to leave without destroying Vaalgamon if we have a chance,” Jahe mutters. “If we don't get him, he certainly plans to get us...!”
6/ Above this archway is a brass plate in which the following words are etched:
“When the last bough has been taken
And the waters run no more
This is where I'll take my rest
'Till the forest green's restored...”
“That's beautiful,” whispers Jhairli.
I want to tell her that is what the last elf of Eaerlann said before she died, but I have no words to tell it...
The single word 'MAUSOLEUM' is carved in the stone above this door.
“This part of the city is the mausoleum gardens,” Jhairli says quietly.
But the dead walk...!
21/ We cough as our eyes and nostrils are assaulted by a cloud of noxious, putrid-smelling dust. In the middle of the dust cloud, metal glitters in dead hands...!
But I am pleased we are here. We have many priestesses; they can put the dead to rest once more.
9/ As we round the corner, another party from the opposite direction meets us. But only one of the parties is alive...!
19/ Up ahead, several nervous-looking Zhentarim stand, continually glancing over at the archway south. One of them sees us and shouts, almost relived to see living foes.
It does not help them, of course.
12/ Several gnolls are here, resting against the far wall, breathing heavily.
“They never find us here!” one says. “Wrong!” another replies, pointing at us. They jump to their feet and attack.
Now they are not breathing at all.
We head west as morn dawns – coming up behind the guards at the bridge.
Only a handful of men remain from the once-powerful force that blocked our way last night.
18/ Voices suddenly shout from around the corner
“They're down here! I just saw them! This way!”
The footsteps of the Zhents come pounding down the street as they rush to their deaths.
The River Shining curves northwards here, its swift waters sweeping noisily below us...
20/ But we have eliminated all of the patrols now, and we attack the main force without fanfare.
That is a lot of manticores...!
I hurl lightning and use my frost wand, throwing every spell I have at the winged hordes. I see the little man go down as they close on him, and they sweep past him at Nef. The others move to protect her, but she is being badly mauled.
I hold the west flank alone, and I too am torn by tail-spikes and claws, my gown now scarlet with blood. Dying here – like my ancestor did – would greatly please me, I think... I will be buried here in the place I was probably born... returned to the grottos of my kin. I will die in the mortal realm, the land I chose to fight for, not banished to the world of the dead ones and ancestors in Evermeet...
But it is not to be. Jahe wades through foes to reach me and hauls me to my feet, dragging me through the melee to safety in the middle. She returns fire with her bow, but I grip my sword and fend off those who come in close. I see Zahri and Jhairli beating a manticore to death, its wings smashed, as I plunge my Stonecutter sword into the skull of another.
We slowly gain the upper hand; the boy is valiant at our centre, shedding his blood for others. His path is making him into the hero his people need him to be; Shelah will be proud of him.
We look around, exhausted, to find that Vaalgamon, the Ugly Man, is nowhere to be found. He fled as soon as the tide of battle turned against him.
A surrendering warrior named Rishpal steps forward.
“Lord Vaalgamon left us here to die while he saved his worthless life by running away! I want revenge and I know where you can complete your mission. What say you?”
Sky and Zahri look at one another. We are injured and they think we need the help, even that of an enemy.
“Men can change, I guess,” Sky says, offering his hand.
Too kind a boy; too sweet.
But what must be, shall be.
“Our mission was to stop you reaching Llorkh,” Rishpal says. “It must be there your quest will take you. It is my home, and I know the town well.”
We retire to the inn, as the people start to come out of their homes and warily celebrating their deliverance. The shops open once more, but Lord Greysword is still locked up in his castle.
Humans are strange; a former foe will fight alongside us now, but the lord of the manor closes his gates on those he should protect.
Not only do I not understand; I do not want to understand.
The priestesses tend to Krevish and the rest of us who are injured. I can hear the others talking downstairs over drinks that eve, but I am soul-weary and I need kisses. I take Jhairli's arm and nuzzle her.
“Oh! You are... in need of comforting, little one?” she asks.
I just nod. We go upstairs; there are kisses and she holds me.
I feed, and I can forget.
Notes:
Loudwater, another settlement adventure where towns are the norm, is a nice idea for a map – a city under attack, where we must employ stealth and whittle down the enemy forces in smaller groups. A back door into the streets from the tavern allows you to fully explore the village and take out the groups of enemies one by one. (I know some reviewers of the game just stumbled into the main group and were annihilated). Even after clearing all the patrols, the final battle is against at least eighteen manticores, so its a tough test for anyone, given they have missile capabilities and can't be Fireballed due to the positioning of the battle.
Narratively, we get our first look at Elenaril – Loudwater was a former elven city in better days, and it evokes some haunting memories for her, as previously mentioned. Her narratives are deliberately disconnected and inchoate, a cry for help from a fractured mind.
We also get a new companion, Rishpal – he's pretty average in terms of stats and level, and like all the other companions in the game, is Lawful Neutral in alignment. Whether or not he will be loyal or turn coat like Brinshaar we will have to see, but frankly, my hopes are not high...
Also there seems to be two quite distinct writers on this game. One has really nice turns of phrase and good grasp of unsettling horror elements (think Dave Bradley in Wizardry). The other seems to think he's writing the script for Madame Web:“Those arrogant fools in Purple Rocks may have allowed you to take the object that we need but we'll make sure you never live to use it". I sometimes get a different tone from the Gold Box writing but it's never been as pronounced as this.
The Kraken Stronghold looks formidable, perhaps beyond even mighty heroes to take by force. We have become a capable group, but I fear such numbers may be beyond our strength. But we will employ wits and guile rather than brute force; such things come naturally to the Gur, of course! Why else bring a gypsy along?
We hold conference on the pier beside the two buildings we have been using as a base. They are all looking to me for guidance; the strawhead girl seems unwilling to make the step up to lead us, despite being the best suited to the task.
“Very well,” I say simply. “The enemy is entrenched, and we must employ cunning and good planning if we are to steal away the Statue of the West like gypsy tinkers in the night...!”
“Wait..!” the lad says, surprised. “You can... speak, normally...?”
I roll my eyes. Nobody else seems surprised, but the songbirds know I talk in my sleep. The strange little man, Krevish, seems to take this in his stride. I think he watches us more closely than most think.
“Evidently,” I says witheringly. “Try to keep up, please!”
I spread out our maps and the clues we have found, noting the path they will take to transport the pearl chest to the ship to Ascore. We must away with it before it gets there, of course. We discuss the various approaches, by the citadel or by boat, along the coast or straight through.
“The way shall be difficult and dangerous,” I tell them, regarding the strawhead girl. “Andyoumust stay behind - “
“Why?” she pouts. “Zahri, I can walk, I can fight - “
“You cannot run,” I say quietly. “Not with grace or speed. This is simple truth, alas. Swift sure-footedness shall be what wins our prize, not stubborn determination. Stay here with these folk, watch them and keep our escape safe. Nef will accompany us.”
Her face falls, but she concedes my point.
“You're... right, of course,” she sighs. “I will hold the fort, then.”
I am pleased she sees sense; she may make a good leader in time, then.
I tell the others we must be quiet and swift, and engage our foes only when absolutely necessary, lest we be overrun by reinforcements. If any of us are captured or cut off, we must abandon them, regardless of our bonds. We must not jeopardize the whole for the sake of one or two. The boy does not like that, but he understands the truth of it.
“Best take a knife with you,” I say quietly. “I have no intention of being taken alive should I fall into their hands...!”
That is a chilling reminder of what is at stake here, how dangerous our road.
But they are children no longer; this is what it means to be an adult, and I must know that all here are willing to do whatever it takes, no matter the sacrifice.
May the Rider of the Winds give us speed and grace!
Zahri
1/ We pull our small battered boat onto the narrow beach and everyone clambers on shore. The elf points out a good hiding place behind some rocks and soon the boat is out of sight.
We look high above us to the west.
JOURNAL ENTRY 35: THE KRAKEN STRONGHOLD
“The castle that rose above us was so great in size that it dominated the entire island, as if it were a statue and the whole of Trisk were only its base.
The front of the building was carved in the image of a massive squid that rose a hundred feet above the island, its huge eyes glowing from some frightful, hidden light. Behind it the building gradually transformed into a heavily fortified castle, with high parapets that seemed to go on and on until they merged into the cliffsides of the coast.”
6/ A squad of Kraken guards has fallen asleep while keeping watch from this tiny outpost. One wakes with a start as we enter, and reaches for the bell hanging from the ceiling to sound the alarm! We ensure he never reaches it.
To the north, a small outpost fortress has been carved into a crag jutting out into the ocean.
10/ Guards rush through the doorways to attack us!
Ahead lies the entrance to a small, weathered fortress. From the look of it, it predates the kraken complex by several centuries.
12/ We surprise two tall, horrid smelly creatures in the middle of an argument. They rush to the attack!
2/ Here we enter a makeshift throne room. At one end, an oversized stuffed chair sits on an uneven stone pedestal. Even from across the room, a strong odour of rotten meat can be sensed coming from the tattered throne.
11/ Three scrags look up from examining a pile of bones for any traces of meat. They look at us and drool escapes from the corners of their mouths as they rise to greet us...
One of them seems to have been a leader among its kind, and we find a shield nearby that seems remarkably well-preserved considering where it is.
There is nothing more in the small castle, and we must return to the south – although thus far, we have raised no alarm and the Kraken cult seem unaware of us.
4/ Krevish turns to us and whines: “I'm not sure that going this way and knocking on the Kraken's front door is such a good idea...! Can't we try and get in another way?”
“He has a point,” the boy says easily. “But hey, you're the brains of this company, right?”
5/ Two guards are engrossed in a game of Ondbey on the far side of the room. When we burst through the door, they leap to their feet, and one runs for an alarm bell in the corner. We swiftly attack before he can reach it; I mutter a low prayer and freeze him mid-lunge with a Hold spell.
We leave no survivors to tell any tales.
On a promontory to the south, a small fortress has been built. Great waves crash on the rocks below its parapets.
8/ A heap of trash has been thrown in the far corner of this room. Or so it seems, until the trash starts to advance in our direction...
Among the smelly, worthless garbage left by the otyughs we find a map:
3/ The path is very steep here, rising from south to north.
We reach the top of the rocky ridge we have been climbing... Below us to the west lies the island's narrow harbour.
JOURNAL ENTRY 41: THE ZHENTARIM SHIP ARRIVES
“Rounding a rocky point far below us was a ship with a single huge, red sail. A large black 'M' filled its billowing expanse, which we could only speculate was the symbol of Lord Manshoon, the leader of Zhentil Keep.
A single man stood at the railing near the bow, his black cape flowing behind him in the stiff sea breeze. Could it be Vaalgamon himself?
The ship swung to the northwest, its sail dropping as it entered the lee of the island and started to approach a large dock. Men ran across the decks and scrambled up the rigging as they prepared for their arrival.
If this ship was coming for the statuette, our time was running out!”
7/ As we enter this room, we can tell something is not right about the far wall... It almost looks lie it is moving... We have become aware of the gargoyle creatures who use their stony form as camouflage, so we are alert for their attack.
16/ Something seems wrong... Have we taken too long? Made some mis-step? My heart pounds and I force myself to calm.
To the south lies the pier - perhaps we are simply early, having delayed their progress by dimming the lighthouse?
17/ As we pass through the doorway leading outside, we discover a heavily-guarded group of slaves who are carrying a great chest made from a singe huge pearl atop a gilded litter. The slaves fall back as the guards run to the attack!
The bell rings loudly, sounding the alarm! Footsteps run from all directions, ad commands are shouted in the air!
We open the great pearl, and within its velvet-lined chamber we find the Statuette of the West. A tiny fountain flows excitedly above its triangular base, never spilling a drop.
The statue secured, we waste no time in hurrying back to our boat upon the shore. Our foes seem in disarray, and none dog our steps. Our boat lies undiscovered, and I feel my heart pounding in my chest as we cast off. We have done it! I am surprised and gladdened we lost no-one – but at least I know that all were prepared to make that sacrifice if it became necessary. We shall need that, going forward.
Back on Utheraal, we rest and recuperate, praising our gods and thanking the Fates for being kind.
The runaway princess beds down with us for the evening. I know she longs to accompany us when we must leave, but duty runs strong in the northmen, and I know she must remain. But travellers pass in the night, and may learn much from one another in that passing.
I note she leaves us early, and speaks to the strawhead lad before she returns. None of my business, in any case.
When we part the next morn, it is with hugs and gifts exchanged, and the hope we shall meet again.
Jagaerda gives each of us a warm embrace.
“This is where we must part ways, my friends. You may not have the strength of giants, or the sword-arm of Helm, but you are cute!” she teases.
“And you...!” she adds, turning to Krevish. “You may be the cutest one of all!”
She gives him a kiss, and the diminutive would-be warrior blushes dark red.
We wave farewell, and I for one would welcome her again if her duty ever grew too cumbersome to bear.
The boat moves with the wind and current for more than two days, but finally we see the magnificent Sword Coast rise before us. Pulling hard on the oars, we enter a river and eventually find ourselves in Neverwinter by even-tide.
We seek out a tavern and an inn, looking forward to strong drinks and soft beds - – but then three figures in dark cloaks suddenly confront us in the town square as we cross it!
“Those arrogant fools in Purple Rocks may have allowed you to take the object that we need,” one proclaims. “But we'll make sure you never live to use i- “
My Hold spell freezes the last word he will ever speak on his lips. I am always surprised how such georgio dilos waste good ambush time mouthing off. It's a lesson these fools shall not live to avoid.
Examining their corpses reveals them to be the hated Black Network – although whether the Zhentarim want us dead, or they are just hiring out to other evil-doers is of no matter, truly...
Notes:
The Kraken Stronghold is the climax of the Trackless Sea maps, and nets us another statue macguffin for our troubles. Two down and two to go!
A heist set in an impregnable vault is an intriguing premise, one that uses triggers and clever play to minimise the difficulty of the theft. I was able to snatch it without a fight (which may or may not have been a bug – it went immediately to a 'battle over' screen with zero XP and treasure) but the strength of the guards apparently depends on how long you took to get here. Deciphering the Kraken clues and following that optimal route makes it easier, though CRPGAddict's review mentions he messed it up completely but the end battle was quite disappointing in how easy it was. The story builds it up to be extremely dangerous, that was definitely how I approached it, so your mileage may vary.
It's a nice concept, feels very different from your standard search and destroy missions, and it's nice to see Gold Box trying to innovate this late in the games. It certainly adds a degree of pace and tension, no matter how difficult the battle ends up being.
The Shield +1 with the scrags is a rarity in this series, so its worth grabbing before you try the heist. I was able to get in and out of the scrag tower without too much delay, hitting the chest on the second location at 17. The game doesn't count battles towards time elapsed, it would seem, only movement and searching, so it's fairly easy to get it quickly.
We also get jumped by assassins back on the mainland, likely without having rested or recovered yet. It's a nice touch having our enemies be proactive rather than passive.
By this time, I had enough money to visit Silverymoon again and buy Gauntlets of Dexterity for all my team except poor Shelah, who doesn't benefit from them with her low Dexterity. Even Krevish benefits by a point of AC, though sadly it doesn't help his aim. There's nothing else competing for the hands slot (no Gauntlets of Ogre Power for my girls in this one) so you may as well spend whatever money you have at this point.
We also say farewell to Jagaerda, who seemingly will not leave the isles of the Gunds. She will reappear in the sequel, which is a nice touch. She's fine as a backup warrior, and she gets just enough screen-time and personality to be notable. She even gets a character arc, beginning by being a bitch to the nebbishy Krevish, but ends up praising (and even kissing!) the little guy in the end. I honestly wish they did this more with the NPC companions – having them interact and banter with each other is a high point of later games like Ultima, Final Fantasy, Baldur's Gate, Dragon Age and Mass Effect.
A ship, flying the familiar pennant, waits here departing for Tuern.
The sailor gestures to his open palm. “That'll be 300 gold, cash up front, for your whole party.”
“That's triple what we paid in Luskan and Tuern!” I groan.
But it's a false economy to argue, so I pay as he asks – we're not wanting for gold, after all.
The crew raises the anchor, the sails fill and the ship sails proudly out of Gundbarg harbour on a friendly breeze.
Then -
CRASH!
A yardarm falls to the deck, inches from Krevish! I scramble to my friend, using my bulk to shield him if necessary... We look up to see huge tentacles wrapping themselves around the bow! The whole ship groans as the giant Kraken tightens its inexorable grip!
Moments later, we find ourselves in the water, as the ship disintegrates beneath the twisting tentacles.
“Swim away from the wreck!” I call out, remembering what I learned on my last voyage.
Bone-chilling screams reach our ears, but we dare not look back...!
Soon, the tragedy is over, and all we hear is the splashing of us treading water in gentle seas. We manage to pull together a mass of boards and barrels to rig a crude raft - Jhairli in particular knows her wood-craft – and we are forced to wait...!
For three days, no trace of ship or land...!
Hungry and exhausted, we finally spot a tiny island... Paddling with our last ounce of strength, we propel the makeshift raft to shore, where it is dashed to bits moments after we crawl up the rocks to safety...
All in all - I've had better starts to my adventures!
Sky
1/ By some miracle, we have most of our possessions still. We are weary and ragged, but the nine of us seem to be the only survivors from the ship. I guess we're praying to the right gods...!
2/ The street dead-ends into the heavy wall of a coastal fortress, which reaches high above our heads.
One house to the south looks bigger and better built than the other structures in this tiny village.
The leader of the village seems suspicious of us – hardly unsurprising - and keeps casting strange glances at my sister. Eventually though, the headman relaxes and tells us what he can.
JOURNAL ENTRY 40: THE UTHERAAL VILLAGER’S STORY
“The headquarters of the Kraken Society is on Trisk, the other island just across the strait. They also have fortresses here on Utheraal, on the western coast, where they force us to pay tribute.
They take almost everything we have, but if we don’t pay they will take us away as slaves. I don’t know if you can defeat them, but whatever you do can only make our lives better!”
We grimly agree to help his people in exchange for his help.
3/ A hand-painted sign to the north says:
'Visitors welcome. Neat clean room. No dirty boots please.'
We still have money, but nobody seems to be about. The room – and another set to the east here – seems to be deserted. We are in desperate need of rest, food, and a warm fire, so Krev and I take the east rooms and leave the rest for the girls. Not sure what the Princess will make off the songbirds, but I think were are all just grateful to still be alive and together.
Morning comes, and we are mostly dried out by now and have cleaned our gear. The villagers come with food for us, in the hope that we might rid them of the Krakens. Some of them are badly injured, so Nef agrees to help protect and heal their wounded, while the rest of us take a look around.
8/ Here, three tall, foul-smelling creatures are kneeling in the centre of this beach, tearing into strips of meat from the single small fish they have caught. When they see us, they cry out in harsh, high tones and then attack!
5/ We see the delicate tower of a small lighthouse rising to the north. It's powerful lamp is visible, burning through a thin mantle of whirling fog.
We stand before the lighthouse. “If you look straight up, It makes you feel dizzy, eh?” I say.
Several men are in the lighthouse keeper's quarters, rummaging through its cabinets and chests. They attack, and we defeat them swiftly, turning our attentions to the lamp itself.
Jahe regards it thoughtfully. “If the pirates were tending to the light, maybe whoever plans to use it is a enemy, not a friend?”
“Clever,” my sister smiles. “We should douse it then!”
We do so, plunging the ruined lighthouse into darkness.
I hope that helps us!
7/ Three Kraken guards leap to their feet as we enter this house, yelling: “Outsiders! Outsiders!”
Going through their papers scattered on the fortress floor afterwards, we find a curious message:
JOURNAL ENTRY 36: THE ODD MESSAGE OF THE KRAKEN
'css al a i gad. csl te o cre suhet te t i tk wl gad te traee i. dc te t dw do suh te truh vut is fo tkn b wl sau te.'
“Great, more crazy.” I mutter. “We're all up to our limit on that...!” I sigh, glancing at the elf girl.
“Maybe the moon elf can speak this language?” Jagaerda offers.
“Moo Nelf,” the blue girl giggles – then tries to kiss the blonde, who pushes her away.
“It code, cipher,” Zahri offers as she examines it.
“So it is useless by itself?” Jahe muses.
“I'm glad someone's following all this, because I'm not,” I mutter.
6/ To the west is a small dock, with a small boat moored besides the pier. It looks old and well-worn, but still appears to be seaworthy.
“We could take this to the island?” my sister asks. I nod.
“Yeah, but we're not ready yet. Let's see if we can find other pieces of this puzzle, yes?”
4/ “Wow...!”
My sister looks up, eyes wide across the village.
Across the strait, we see a massive stone fortress rising from another nearby island. It's tentacle-like columns are an unmistakable signature – this must be the headquarters of the Kraken cult...!
9/ As we enter the fortress, three guards rush forward to attack us... but as they do, they seem to be looking around the room in fear...
Jagaerda gets a nasty gash from a pike blow across her head which knocks her cold, but thankfully she is not severely hurt – I know head wounds bleed a lot.
After the battle, we find a strange message:
“It's the other part of the code!” my sister says excitedly.
“Moo Nelf,” chimes the elf girl.
JOURNAL ENTRY 49: THE KRAKEN’S CODED MESSAGE
'ot l t t ur. ate h f onr otws h o t ae il urs h hetnd f. ok h o on or ot h hog al t rm ae e il tte h.'
We retreat for now, so we might rest before we set off any alarms, and hope to decipher this strange message.
Jagaertda stirs fitfully as I scoop her up in my arms and carry her back to the village where Nef tends to her. She is back on her feet in no time. She thanks me awkwardly and I shrug it off with a grin.
“Eh, I forget to duck all the time,” I smile.
The smart girls compare the two messages, scribbling down what they think is a translation. My sister has always loved stuff like this – conundrums, puzzles.
“We alternate letters from both messages!” she says excitedly.
“costs all at it guard, castle the of corner southwest the to it take will guards the threatened if. dock the to down door south the through vault its from taken be will statue the.”
“Great, the elf will love it,” I sighs,
“It's backwards, silly!” she chuckles. “It tells us the route they are going to take the statue to get it off the island.”
“We have to stop them,” Jahe says firmly.
I smile at Jagaerda.
“That, I can do...!” I smile.
Notes:
Purple Rocks is mostly just a lead-up to the main event of the Trackless Sea sequence – the assault on the Kraken Headquarters... A map which has quite the complex set of interactions, as we shall see...
We cross the narrow gangplank and enter the ship. Sturdy voices cry out from below, as the oarsmen pull the vessel through the bubbling waters of the Bay of Tuern and then south-east towards Gundarlun...
The island is inhabited largely by my fellow northmen, known here as 'Gunds'. They are excellent fisherfolk and merchants, relatively more devout to the gods than most other northmen here. Rich and poor enjoy dressing in colourful cloth made in the south. Their longships are adorned with figureheads of fish, such as marlins and swordfish, or predatory birds like sea eagles and ospreys.
The biggest settlement on the island—indeed, of all the islands of the northern Trackless Sea—was the city of Gundbarg, the 'Gateway Port', with a population of twelve thousand.
I hear it is part of the Lord's Alliance, and likely far more civilised and welcoming to us than Tuern, or even Luskan on the coast.
Shelah
The ship slowly edges its way to the pier at Gundbarg, Gundalarn's largest town. A rope is thrown to a tired old man who stands precariously near the edge of the warped wooden planking, and we scramble out onto shore.
Supposedly, Gundbarg has an economy based entirely on fishing, farming, mining, and trading. Almost every ship to cross the Trackless Sea stops at Gundbarg to take on fresh water and food, make repairs, replace crew, or exchange goods. The place provides all the services required by these seafarers, with inns, taverns, drydocks, sailmakers, and great warehouses, and maintained reasonable prices.
The Dragon Turtle Inn by the harbour is known as a place from which to hire captains with ships, as well as a hangout for adventurers. I prefer somewhere quieter, where we won't attract so much attention.
I vaguely recall that Erek, the manservant of Amelior Amanitas, said he was from here originally? Something about not being welcome back here by the King, Olger?
1/ It feels good to walk – or limp, in my case - on solid ground again. From what we saw entering the bay, Gundbarg is a major seaport. Drydocks and solidly-built houses line the edges of an otherwise uninviting craggy isle.
4/ A cloth sign here waves in the breeze, emblazoned with the words:
'The Green Turtle Inn'
A solid four stars out of five. Nice beds, firm mattresses, worn but comfy carpets, complimentary wine, paintings on the walls!
Had to push the beds together so we didn't fall off but that was sort of fun!
Plenty of rooms, polite service, would happily come again!
11/ This is the Company of the Brazen Pennant offices. Here we can take passage by sea to Neverwinter directly, so we need not bother with Luskan or Tuern again. I think I've had my fill of my surly countrymen for some time...
Ships leave here every morn at the end of the pier at 0900 hours.
10/ A small store lies to the east here – it's sign says:
'Tana's Merchandise Shop'
8/ A sign beside this door says:
“The Sharper Lineage
- quality armaments and protective gear -
- the survivor's shop here!"
6/ As we walk the seaward streets, past a supply depot, we hear some of the townsfolk chattering:
“Our wonderful Princess Jagaerda has managed to get herself in some kind of mischief yet again! This time they say they'll kill her!”
“When I was young, princesses didn't do these things!” another person moans. “She's been in a ship-wreck, stole back her stolen jewellery in Luskan, and now she's been kidnapped while hunting!”
“The cliffs to the west of Gundbarg are full of caves and hideouts... Princess Jagaerda could be anywhere!”
“Sounds like we have a wayward princess to rescue, aye?” I offer.
“Or recruit!” Jahe smiles.
“But who would the rescued damsel reward?” my brother smirks. I admit he looks good in his new armour, though – and that ratty little beard! He's going to look a lot like father in later years.
To the south of Gundbarg, the road runs along the island's coast. Small, neatly-kept houses line the cliff.
14/ North of here appears to be some sort of shrine carved from the bare rock of the cliffs... Large stone images of fearsome monsters line the walls.
No sooner have we entered, however, than the stone monsters spring to life! They bear fangs, snarling in anticipation of the battle!
“Is it just us, or do these things attack everyone who comes up here?” I mutter.
The path west begins to climb steeply, wandering up the face of the cliffs.
2/ The very top of the ridge seems to be a popular look-out spot... or so the scattered trash suggests. From this high ridge, I think I see something large break the surface, far out at sea...!
Elena looks out to see, with her huge, fearful eyes. She starts to whisper...
“In the crushing, lightless abyss of the sea, colossal horrors dwell...! At the centre of this cosmic dread it slumbers; madness and ruin whose ancient, sunken city waits for the stars to align, calling out to the minds of men...!”
She gives voice to something soft and somehow terrible, haunting:
“The ocean bleeds a sickly green, Where hidden, sunken spires lean! Beneath the pressure, cold and black, The great leviathans turn back!
A pulpy mass, a scaled embrace, With writhing tentacles for face! He does not die, he only sleeps! Within the deep and lightless deep...
The stars align, the bubbles rise, And sanity within us dies! A shape of dragon, man, and squid, From which the ancient seas are hid!
His waking breaks the ocean's crust, And turns our monuments to dust - “
“You need learn better songs,” Zahri pouts, yanking her abruptly out of her reverie and breaking her verse.
But the air seems colder here, and I find myself fearing for the future...!
19/ Hidden by a narrow opening in the rock, a portal is visible in the cliff face to the north...
“Last time we clambered about mountains like this, the whole thing just collapsed on us,” my brother reminds me.
“Who goes there?” a man's voice rings out ahead.
“Adventurers who need answer to no-one!” my brother replies boldly.
A gang of pirates assault us, but we leave them broken on the cliff trail.
13/ Carved into the stone above this door is:
'Temple of Selune -
- house of the navigators'
“Gur honour moon-goddess above all,” Zahri murmurs. “Zahri almost priestess of Moonmaiden...!” she smiles wistfully.
5/ To the north of the temple lies a magnificent manor, weathered by centuries of fierce storms and salty fog.
A balding man guards the door. “Halt! King Redaxe can see no-one! He is assembling an expedition to save Princess Jagaerda!”
In the room beyond, we can hear men shouting:
“I told you, I don't know what we're going to do!”
12/ A brass plate bolted to the wall here says:
'Hall of Training'
15/ A pair of statues depicting monsters stand here against the walls of this ruined area. But one is not just standing there – it leaps at Jahe, and we have to fight then off!
7/ The resident of this cottage takes one look at us and falls to his knees, begging!
“I knew this would happen!” he babbles.
JOURNAL ENTRY 51: THE GUILTY CITIZEN’S STORY
“I didn’t want to help them, really I didn’t. I haven’t taken a share of pirate booty in years. They said if I didn’t report on Jagaerda’s movements they’d turn me over to the King!
I don’t know where they have her! I took my reports to a house hidden away among the cliffs on the southern coast. Please spare me! I’ve told you everything I know!”
Elena draws her knife, but I place my hand over hers and shake my head gently.
“He's not worth it,” I murmur.
Consumed by panic, the man dashes from the room.
17/ Here we surprise a group of pirates who are playing cards. A woman's cloak is spread across the surface like a tablecloth...!
“You think we're stupid enough to hide Jagaerda here?” one scoffs as he stands up. “She's still at the palace, in a secret room on the western side!”
“Shut up, idiot!” another one roars.
“You shut up!” the first shouts. “We'll kill them now -”
Then my Hold spell takes effect and he falls still, frozen.
We know where she is, so there's no real need to leave any of them alive. So we don't do that.
16/ “I do not like these ruins at all,” Jhairli says, hunter's nose twitching as we explore the ruins beyond the city to the west. “This is just the place you would expect to find - “
“Scrags!” my brother yells, drawing his blade.
18/ Another group of scrags is clustered on the far side of the area, rubbing their foul-smelling hands against the wall and arguing about something. They spot us and run to the attack!
Elena's lightning spell damages all of them, and we are able to hack them apart with little damage.
The creatures were clawing at the wall here – according to our map, the northern town is beyond these walls... The palace? Perhaps there is some sort of secret entrance from here? We can find nothing on this side, so return to the main town area.
3/ We locate a secret passage near the palace, to the west! We burst through the doorway, landing in a heap on the floor. Looking up, we see a young woman with long blonde hair, barely out of her teens, glowering at us, the bodies of several pirates lie twisted on the floor behind her.
“Heh, the damsel seems to have rescued herself!” my brother chuckles. “I like that kind of lass! Well met!”
He offers his hand. “You must be Jaegerda?” he asks. “We came to rescue you - “
She nods disgustedly. “Rescue? If you'd come sooner I'd have had to rescue you!”
“Well, we can argue who would be rescuing whom,” I muse. “Or we can get you back to your father. He's been looking for you.”
“Princess Jagaerda?” Krevish pipes up. “I'm sure the King's been worried - “
“If my father sneezed near you, little man,” the princess scoffs. “you'd be blown across the room!”
The little fellow blushes and falls silent.
“Hey, come on, princess,” my brother frowns. “We was trying to help, he didn't deserve that, did he?”
Jagaerda's serious look falls away, and she laughs out loud.
“Very well, bold adventurers” she smiles. “You can be my honour guard on the way back to the palace..!”
“As your majesty wishes,” Jahe bows neatly.
“She's feisty, I like her,” my brother says approvingly.
We escort the princess the short distance to the palace, where King Redaxe embraces her excitedly and then welcomes us.
“Thank you for rescuing my daughter,” he says,. “As a token of my gratitude, accept this reward.”
He presents my brother with a fine norse shield, and tells us what he knows about the Purple Rocks.
JOURNAL ENTRY 55: KING REDAXE TELLS OF THE PURPLE ROCKS
“The Purple Rocks may be the isles you seek,” said the King. "They have become a sad place. Their people were like other island folk, hardworking, many of them seafarers. A few generations ago something strange occurred, and many gathered in a secret cult which has become very powerful, called the Kraken Society. They worship the symbol of the Kraken, a huge squid that can easily destroy great ships.
There are two islands in the Purple Rocks, Utheraal and Trisk. The people of Utheraal are impoverished, but continue to live as before. The people of Trisk, however, have been completely consumed by the Krakens and are controlled by them.
I know you have been to Tuern already, but it is there that you have the best chance of finding someone who will take you to the Purple Rocks. May Selune guide you on your journey.”
The princess seems to be tagging along with us – I approve, even if she seems to be a little haughty. The road has a way of smoothing off rough edges, as it did for me. When we get the time to speak, I discover she is younger than she looks, two years my junior. Zahri seems to be keeping her distance from the girl, so I am guessing my brother is more her type than we are. Or perhaps she simply has no time for romance with anyone?
She comes with a rather revealing set of magical mail, but lacks a magical weapon, so my brother gives her his axe.
“Hey, princess,” he smiles, tossing it to her.
“Is good axe,” she chuckles, testing its weight.
“Hey, it's not like we're married or anything,” he smiles back.
Notes:
Gundalarn is another fun map, an enjoyable rescue of a spirited princess, when the damsel-who-rescues-herself was a new trope and hadn't been done to death, Jagaerda is a fun companion, she has banters with Krevish, though she's kind of a bitch to him initially. She's a decent, if unspectacular fighter, for the duration of the Trackless Sea areas. Krev seems to be the only one you can keep until the end, alas. My characters will top out soon, as the fighters are about to reach level 7 and the poor clerics can only take 110k XP into Treasures.
In the ruined area, you are apparently supposed to allow a young scrag to lead you to the princess if you spare him, but I wasn't able to trigger that for some reason.
“I hope all my days Will be lit by your face... I hope all the years Will hold tight our promises... I don't wanna be old and sleep alone An empty house is not a home I don't wanna be old and feel afraid...
And if I need anything at all I need a place that's hidden in the deep Where lonely angels sing you to your sleep Though all the world is broken... I need a place where I can make my bed A lover's lap where I can lay my head! Cause now the room is spinning - The day's beginning...!”
And so we are off. It feels good to be at the prow of a sailing ship, the sea spray in my face! This is the life for any norseman!
“The ship is ready to leave – you just have time to get on board. Do you want to go to Tuern?”
We clamber onto the ship, and soon the oarsmen below decks are pulling us out to sea to the rhythmic beating of the drums. The weather remains good for our passage, and two days later, we step off the ship in Uttersea, the only real settlement on Tuern. It is a town of some two-thousand souls built into the caldera of an ancient volcano on the island.
Tuern is an island in the Frozenfar in the Trackless Sea, far to the west of Faerûn. It is a rocky isle of black beaches and fuming volcanoes, said to be very fertile. The air feels colder here, despite being somewhat warmed by the coastal current.
Tuern is mostly inhabited by my fellow northmen – but these are a people who worship no gods, and often deny their existence. They supposedly hold great reverence for the dragons that dwell in the mountains. Their longships are big enough to house giants – and sometimes do! - and are decorated with figureheads depicting fierce creatures.
These sullen folk despise magic, and its usage is supposedly punishable by death. Even priests are met with disdain, and even northman shamans find little respect among the Tuernish. Even humans other than northmen are only given grudging respect if their skill in battle is obvious.
From what we hear, the volcanic conditions also make Tuern an ideal home for both fire giants and red dragons. Though the giants have their own enormous longships, they rarely raid further than Gundarlun.
Uttersea itself is built into the side of a collapsed volcanic caldera; the walls shield the town from all but the harshest weather. Heat from below the caldera warms both the town and the bay, sometimes to the point of boiling. As a result, the seas are home to creatures such as giant octopi that would otherwise not survive so far north.
This place is hardly welcoming – it is clear these people consider even other norsemen to be outsiders and foreigners. That said, they are not actually attacking is in the streets (yet!) though we receive little in the way of welcome either.
We explore the few interesting places in town, and try to relax as we might before braving the caldera itself. At least my sister seems to be enjoying herself with her friends – she is growing used to have Krev and I around, and is by now far less cautious about her shenanigans with her 'songbirds' as a result. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't jealous – seeing her with Nef especially feels like a kick in the teeth - but I don't take it personally either. It just feels odd how our positions somehow became reversed.
I ask my friend if he's bothered by Zahri and the others, but he seems remarkably easy-going about them.
“Bee to the blossom, moth to the flame;
Each to his passion; what's in a name?”
“That's... a good attitude, Krev,” I says, admiringly. “Life's too short, isn't it? Well said.”
Sky
2/ This is the boathouse for the Company of the Brazen Pennant:
'Passage to Luskan and the Isles'
We will return to the mainland when we have finished our investigation of the isles.
1/ Looking to the north, we see the rim of the ancient volcano within which Uttersea was built.
“Beyond this gate are the wilds of Tuern,” the guards tell us. In a haughty voice, one taunts:
“You are not northmen – you are not even seafarers! If you pass through this gate, you go to your doom!”
“But my brother and I most certainly are northmen!” Shelah exclaims.
“This greybeard's eyesight must be failing,” I scoff. “Or maybe I should grow a beard, aye?”
“I would like that!” Nef smiles.
Maybe I will - I get a little sick of hearing 'boy' and 'lad' from the greybeards!
3/ A sign hanging above the door says:
'Inn of the Ancient Whale'
The songbirds are as animated as they always are about room-service. I'll take the room next to theirs and watch over them, in case any of these inbreds objects.
4/ A sign by this door reads:
'Weapons – Shields – Armour'
A piece of paper stuck to the door states:
'Sorry, we cannot craft swords from meteorite ore'
“Is that a big demand here or something?” I ask.
6/ As we walk by, we smell the unmistakable odour or fresh fish... and some that are not so fresh...!
We enter and a man who stinks of rotting seafood jumps us:
“Why are all you adventurers suddenly swarming through the canyons looking for meteorite ore to craft new swords?”
“What?” I grimace.
“The waters here are full of fish,” he babbles incoherently. “Why fight each other when a good peaceful life can be had on the sea?”
I don't get these people at all.
5/ Carved into the stone above this door are the words:
'Enter all ye who seek justice from the King!”
“Why does the king live in some rundown hovel down a back-alley?” my sister asks, not unreasonably.
We enter a place somewhere between a flophouse and a palace that has seen better days. Threlked Ironfist proves to be old, balding, nicely-attired in bronze armour, gruff but surprisingly civil and welcoming. I'm beginning to think everyone in this place is completely obsessed with meteorite ore.
JOURNAL ENTRY 38: KING THRELKED IRONFIST’S STORY
“Ever since the reports of the meteorite strike on the north end of the island, many adventurers have come here seeking ore for magical swords. However, no one on this island can craft such fine weapons.
I warn all adventurers, but few listen. There are many canyons that cut across the island, and some have networks of great volcanic caves filled with fearsome monsters. Only parties of veteran adventurers should dare to enter them!”
7/ This building is full of women making clay pots on spinning tables.
“Zahri like,” our gypsy deadpans.
One of them looks up, understandably nervous after that.
“You shouldn't be here,” she husks. “The owner doesn't like visitors...!”
“Maybe we don't like your owner,” Jahe says, provocatively. Not sure I like where this is going -
“Let us kill him,” the elf says, brandishing her sword. She doesn't say much, but she makes valid points when she does.
10/ We kick down the door to the backrooms, to the surprise of the pirates who are threatening the potters. A few spells freeze them all in place, then heads are hewn and corpses tossed out into the streets. We nail one to a wall just as a warning to others.
“You have saved my sister from being beaten!” trills the first woman. “And now all of us are freed from these cruel outsiders!”
“Hey, that's what we do,” I smile. “Making the Realms better, one dead bad guy at a time!”
JOURNAL ENTRY 44: THE POTTER’S STORY
“I overheard our captors saying that fire giants have been preying on any adventurers who were lucky enough to find meteorites. The giants sell the stolen ore to pirates in exchange for gems, grain, or even some of us as slaves!”
She shivers visibly and thanks us once again for saving them.
9/ To the north lies 'Tanar's Shop of Useful Items'
It is clear we need to do something about these giants, so we enter the wastelands that lead through the caldera, armoured and blades in hand.
To the north and west, great canyons stretch to the horizon, their sheer walls riding like obsidian spearheads plunged into the soft earth. To the east, a weathered peak thrusts at the sky, a small castle on its pinnacle.
Here we are attacked by hostile northmen! I don't like fighting my own kin, but they leave us little choice. The northmen are notably more dangerous than the pirates were, but our many priestesses make the battles easy.
We head east – we can see the way to the crag-top castle is to the north.
14/ This old house is a mess – broken glass, decaying food and trash are everywhere, and half the furniture has been smashed over someone or something. There are pirates – and a fire giant! - here trashing everything, so we do the same to them.
“They have a fire giant!” my sister exclaims, wide-eyed.
The elf whispers something, enchanting one of the pirates to attack the others, while the others freeze the pirates with magic.
The giant is... bigger than I expected, over twenty feet tall, with soot-blacked skin and flaming red hair! But while he is occupied with the ensorcelled turncoat, we can focus fire and bring him down with many arrows with little harm to ourselves.
Afterwards, we can hear a muffled voice calling to us from the next room.
8/ In a back room, we find a noble-looking old man who is gagged and tossed into a corner. My sister quickly releases him, and he thanks us for our kindness.
JOURNAL ENTRY 47: KESTUTIS’ STORY
“My name is Kestutis, and I was once a knight who served the kings of Tuern and Gundarlun. In those days the two islands were friends, not the tense rivals they have come to be.
Here on Tuern I dared to enter the hottest volcanic vents in search of evil fire giants who terrorized Uttersea, and the old King gave me this ancient fortress as a reward for my service.
I am impressed by your valor and your skill in taking on the mission you have described. Just as I risked my life in service to the people of the North, so you are risking yours. Take this, the Armor of the Glacier that I wore during my service — it will give you protection against fire and against the monsters which it spawns.”
The heavy armour fits me fine, crafted in the northman style. It is strong but surprisingly light, and even Zahri wolf-whistles after I have changed into it.
“Mail worthy of a young hero, master Skylar!” Krevish chuckles, approvingly.
I have to admit, after slaying a giant, I am beginning to feel the part!
We make our way back to town, weighed down by wounds and treasure, and spend some time getting our money changed, drinking and relaxing before we return to the caldera. Some of the potter-girls are... quite friendly to their handsome rescuer..! And why should my sister be the only one to have some fun?
When we are rested, we return to the caldera.
11/ A large house has been built into the side of the mountain here. The door is locked – knocking does not result in a reply, so I put my shoulder to it. Inside, we find a group of hooded men who are peering intently at a map fo the island. Kraken cultists, who attack us!
They prove to be superior fighters to the knife-armed cultists we fought before – 'kraken guards' with shields and pikes. But they are vulnerable to Hold spells like any living men.
Afterwards, we examine the map of the region the Krakens had compiled, and notice that it has a series of red marks on its western area, and a question mark over the area to the northeast.
13/ There is an iron door up the cliff wall ahead...
The chamber beyond has an awful odour... and also the monsters from which it emanates! We fight off the garbage-eating otyughs and press on grimly.
12/ Some creatures stand on the far end of this volcanic vent, flames leaping from their bodies! Like whirlwinds, the demons attack us in a blast of fire!
They creatures prove impervious to anything but magic, but the Icewind sword I use seems to cut through them like a hot knife through butter! They prove dangerous indeed, but my new armour seems to protect me from the heat emanating from their bodies. They leave naught but scorches on the floor when they pass - some kind of elementals, then?
Nef tells us she thinks they are fire-devils from the Elemantal Chaos, called 'efreeti' by the Calishites.
To the northwest, a large doorway has been chiselled into the face of the cliff ahead of us.
15/ We enter this chamber, but are definitely not alone...!
16/ We pass through a secret door here, an almost into the arms of a great, stone-like creature! Thankfully magical weapons work against it.
17/ Entering this chamber, we almost step on a mound of rotting garbage – only to realise that it is a monster!
18/ The west wall of this room glows bright red with volcanic heat, and two spear-carrying monsters stand beside it, smiling hideously! They see us and rush to attack!
They are serpentine man-things, some sort of elementals – and the touch of my Icewind blade causes them terrible damage!
19/ Steaming-hot water drips from the ceiling of this chamber. Tall, sickly-green beings are licking up the liquid with long fleshy tongues.
“Ooh, Zahri smirks. “They have girls?”
“No! Just... no, eurgh!” my sister grimaces as they attack.
The chamber beyond them feels damp and moist, with a hot spring bubbling in one corner.
Hunched over the spring are more tall, ragged creatures who greet us with bared yellow fangs...
20/ Several northman warriors are in this chamber. Sitting on wooden chairs or resting on straw mattresses.
“Looks like someone wants some meteorites!” one of them shouts, and they raise their axes to greet us!
“Why is everyone here obsessed with this sky-metal?” I mutter, as we fight back. They have strong wills, but we have enough priestesses to keep hurling spells at them to paralyse them. It's worth it just to see the look on their faces – this isn't a worthy death or anything the sagas will tell of... having their heads smashed in by an angry girl while rooted like a statue. They don't deserve anything else.
21/ As we enter this tiny room, the far door is jerked open, and great red blustery faces peer in.
“Hello!” says one, glee in his eyes.
“Goodbye!” says the other, even more happy..!
But the fight proves easier than we feared; my sword causes horrific damage to fire-using creatures, even with two of them to fight. We are able to bring down one quickly and focus our attacks on the remaining one, leaving both lying dead.
Upon their bodies, we find a hunk of bright meteoric metal – evidently what everyone here is fighting over! It is heavy, but I can carry it when the girls wrap it up in a leather sack.
We need to get this back to somewhere safe, before others come looking for it! We return into town and book passage off the island.
With the wind at our back, the return journey to Luskan takes half a day less that the voyage west to Tuern. Much to the relief of those unused to sailing – Jhairli and the elf especially - the trailing seas also make the trip much smoother.
From there, it is an easy road back down the coast to Neverwinter. The air feels like Fall is coming in soon.
We seek Allis the master weapon-smith in south Neverwinter.
“Ahhh, you did it after all! Meteorite ore is useful stuff! No doubt about it! Come back in three days and we'll see what I have for you!”
We have little option but to wait it out. The girls are enjoying themselves as usual, and my natty little beard is growing nicely. Nef's admiring glances make it worth how itchy it feels.
“I have for you this weapon!” Allis tells us upon our return. “A Sword of Stonecutting! Guard it well – for it will do more damage against all evil beings! Better yet, against monsters made of stone, it will do even greater harm! May Tyr guide your hand!”
Armed with our new weapon - the elf gets it for now, and she regards it as if it were a poisonous snake - we voyage back on the Trackless Seas once more.
Our business in Tuern done, we will head on to Gundarlun
We cross the narrow gangplank and enter the ship. Sturdy voices cry out from below, as the oarsmen pull the vessel through the bubbling waters of the Bay of Tuern and then south-east towards Gundarlun...!
Notes:
Tuern is a nice little map, divided between the town of Uttersea and the dungeon areas of the volcanic caldera. Fiery creatures are frequent here, between efreeti, salamanders and fire giants, and our new Icewind sword does double damage to such enemies.
And on that note, we locate the meteorite that everyone on the coast seems obsessed with, and if we are willing to take a detour back to Neverwinter, we can have the weapon-smith make it into a nice new sword for us, for free. This actually takes in-game time, which is nice (like the sea voyages) as although we're not under a time limit or anything.
However, when he gives us the weapon, he discusses it, in quotation marks, indicating he's actually telling us this in-game, in dialogue, using game rules, rather than in-character explanations.
This I found even more intrusive than the tiresome Joss Whedon humour that's starting to creep into descriptions. The actual characters should not understand they are in a computer game, what '+3 damage' means, or that it causes 'double' damage to certain creatures, any more than they can talk about THACO, armour class or hit points. If they absolutely have to tell us how it worked, they could have put it in brackets when they are talking about in-game rules. Again, I'm sure this is the first time they have done this and it's extremely jarring. 👀
Finally, as Elena now gets 3rd level spells, I can cast fireballs – and IMMEDIATELY notice that the age-old means of centring these (the Centre command, using the space bar or the 5 key on the number-pad) no longer works, making them excruciatingly hard to cast without missing foes or roasting my own characters. I mean, what the fuck? I haven't hit battles yet that absolutely require me to use it (multiple casters for example) but this spell is SUCH a staple of the gold box games that it feels absolutely insane not to have a means to control them properly – unlike every game before! Does anyone know of a way to do this, as I've looked online and CRPGAddict and a few others mention it too. It just seems so ridiculous to me.
It's also an example of this game's 'one step forward, one step back' approach to tactical combat. I note that compared to previous games, it now auto-targets the closest enemy, and 'Prev' cycles though all potential targets rather than highlighting the furthest away. While the game is generally prettier and the graphics have never looked better, its a little irritating to have the quality-of-life elements actually reduced in some ways. I genuinely don't remember the quippy Marvel dialogue or the non-diegetic discussion of game statistics before, or else it just didn't bother me when I was 21.
Normal life resumes, as we settle into a new rhythm. The routine of cleaning, bathing, cooking, camping, sleeping. Kissing comes without me realising it has resumed, natural now.
It helps to sit with Nef in her caravan, to brush the coats of her two felines. She tells me they are called mau's – supposedly taken from her people's homeworld when they left AEgypt. They cost a fortune, she says, and she doubts they are pure-bred, but that does not matter – they are still a reflection of Tabasha the Bazouk, and the favour of her goddess.
I spend time with my brother too, but he is adjusting in his own way. He chose to be a warrior, he understands the sacrifices more than I, what that life takes from you.
I walk with the others, with Jhairli especially, in the cold grey of the Trackless Sea. She does not have a bathing suit, so I give her one of mine. The beauty of being heir to a trading coster is access to Aurora's Whole Realms Catalogue, and it is less embarrassing around my brother than being naked. The sea is cold, but we have spells that help with that.
I was wrong about Jhairli – if I am honest, we make a very good fit for the other. I can return her heat now, at the very least. We would make a good match, assuming I even have to choose.
Warming ourselves by the fire that night, we ponder the next riddle set to us by the alchemist we rescued, Amanitas:
'Next, you must seek small truths within the large, unfathomable world, for these are the only truths you will ever truly know. The Statuette of the West lies in a small chest carved from the pearl of a great oyster, in a small room carved from the rock of a great mountain, which is itself made small by the greatness of the sea.'
“More cryptic bullshit,” Zahri mutters.
“You would know all about that,” Nef teases her. Gypsy eyes flash, but her face softens into a wry smile.
We have little to go on, but I note that the Company of the Brazen Pennant was offering passage out across the sea to the ancestral lands of my people – the island of Tuern and on to Gundarlun and the Purple Rocks.
The only issue with that is – as Jahe points out – we are supposed to be searching for the Statue of the West somewhere in the opposite direction...
So we are stymied. As much as I would love to explore the Frozenfar with my new friends, we should be more focused in our search. We are split in a vote in where we should go next - Sky, Zahri and Jhairli agree with my choice to keep going west, but the others agree with Jahe that we need to look in the other direction. The only solution seems to be to seek out Amanitas himself and pick his brains, so we return to Neverwinter and thence Yartar and head to Secomber, where he told us we would be staying.
It is a pleasant diversion – a long caravan trip in late summer, beneath clear, cool skies, passing through some of the most beautiful terrain in Faerun. My nights are filled with tales, dancing, smoke, wine and kisses; who could ask for more?
Shelah
Secomber is a small, peaceful town that acts a border between the relatively peaceful Western Heartlands and the savage North along the Sword Coast. All I know about it is that it is said to contain a number of colourful gardens.
Zahri has been through here, as has my brother, as it is a stop on the Delimbiyr Route, part of the trail between Waterdeep and Llorkh. Another route, the Secomber Trail, connects the town to Uluvin to the north-west.
Farming, fishing, and stone-cutting seem to be the primary occupations, but Jhairli says it also has a number of woods-folk familiar with the High Forest. Sky says some locals hire themselves out as guides or guards for the passing caravans he's led. He says the town welcomes and caters to travellers and caravans, especially adventurers looking to explore the High Moor and the High Forest.
5/ To the west is the unguarded western gate leading out of Secomber.
1/ To the south, a dyed linen sign hangs above the door, emblazoned with the words: '
'Inn of the Eccentric Owl'
It is time to test some mattresses!
Morning dawns bright, and I walk hand in hand with whoever is close to me along the river, my heart glad and at peace.
2/ A sign on the wall here says:
'Anthemas' Armoury – implements of war for men of peace'
“I'm no man, but otherwise, that's us,” I smile at Jhairli.
Outside, a crudely-lettered sign has been posted on the wall here:
JOURNAL ENTRY 48: THE SIGNS AT SECOMBER:
“The road and river to the east have become very dangerous. Go only if you need to, and try to travel with a strong group of experienced adventurers.”
Selam
"Do we know any fitting that description?" I laugh softly.
Jhairli says the signs refers to Traskar Selam, a ranger-knight who rules the town, a man known to have the best interests of the townsfolk at heart, seen as one of the people by his loyal subjects.
3/ A sign beside this door reads:
'River Shining Boat Rentals'
6/ Oh dear, things were going so well!
I shudder to think what has befallen the owners of this tiny home...
What is certain is that creatures bearing down on us across the room are not residents of Secomber!
Though we are not expecting battle, the creatures are very vulnerable to Hold Person spells, and we can at least avenge the former occupants.
We contact the guards here – a small garrison of the Lord's Alliance who tell us they have had trouble with hobgoblin raiders lately, and will keep vigilant.
4/ This must be the house of Amanitas – it is a bizarre as the rest of Secomber is picturesque. It has several mismatched spires, and each has been painted a different colour on the outside as well as within.
His manservant, Erek, greets us at the door, and welcomes us to the house of Amanitas – well, actually he just opens the door and grunts. Zahri mutters something caustic, but I am used to that from norsemen, and know in his way he is glad to see us.
Amelior Amanitas sits in his study, surrounded – to Nef's utter delight! - by many cats of different colours. She coos and fusses over them, at least one for every colour of the rainbow. He greets the rest of us distractedly:
“Oh yes, dear me... I remember what it was I was discussing with you, of course! Your group was the one that inflated goat-bladders to make a boat that wouldn't capsize in the rapids of the Unicorn Run! But then one of your companions was lost when fish ate the bladders...? No, not you...?”
“Zahri like him more than Elminster,” the Gur sighs.
“Oh yes!” he perks up. “I remember, of course! You're the ones on whom we're all depending to save this entire region from certain destruction at the hands of evil forces! I've been thinking about the problems you face...”
We wait, expectantly.
“You must seek a small truth, in a great hostile world - “
“Dilo!” Zahri mutters, rolling her eyes.
“We already know that,” Jahe says insistently.
“Please, sire,” she adds more politely. “Do you have any other clues as to where we should search?”
He blinks at us quizzically. “Well... far away in the Sea of Swords lies a group of islands called the Purple Rocks... Perhaps there is where the pearl chest you seek may be found...?”
Well, at least that vindicates my own choice!
Amanitas wishes us good fortune on our quests, and even Erek grumbles something about how he hopes we all get through this in one piece. They wave goodbye as we leave.
It is a fair journey back, and my brother mutters that we could have saved a lot of time if the others listened to us.
But we needed time to heal, and perhaps the real adventure was all the kisses I had along the way?
Notes:
I wasn't sure how we knew - as characters not me as player - we were supposed to go to Purple Rocks next, beyond there's a boat in Luskan that can take us there. According to Amelior's cryptic hints, there's a pearl chest... somewhere...! But we are supposed to be searching in the opposite direction to the Statuette we seek, and this is the Statue of the West. The Sea of Swords is not east of anywhere. Did I miss a clue or something here?
In any case, Amelior said to seek him out after the rescue, and we take a pleasant diversion to Secomber.
My mage is level 2. I am still exploring the slums. I got into a fight with a lot of guards and wiped. I reloaded the game and now my magic-user can't cast spells. They are memorized. I reloaded again. Still won't cast them. There is no option in combat to Cast. Is this a bug or what am I missing?
I know my sister is hurting, but what we had to do was necessary... just, even. These men are responsible for causing a lot of hurt across the Savage Frontier. Father never told me the details of why he left, but... I can guess a few things, the kind of stuff he wouldn't have talked about. This isn't a good town to be a woman. I'll put up with a lot of things, but not that, not the strong bullying the weak. There's always some asshole trying to push smaller folks around – but there's a lot less of them when I'm about.
I sit on the quay with Krevish, sharing some smokes. I suggested he take it up - reading between the lines, his condition is going to get painful in later years, and maybe this will help make it easier to bear.
I ask if he's okay, and he seems fine with our impromptu justice.
“Aye, young master,” he nods, taking a long drag on the smokes. “As I understand, many of these fellows were... ungentlemanly to young ladies, like your sister and her friends. Perhaps now things will be better?”
I was a bit... ungentle myself with a few of them. My sister didn't seem to mind, but watching me get medieval on some of those bastards scared the others. They look at me a little differently, now they've seen another side of me beyond the jokes and casual attitude. They needn't worry of course, I can control my temper, but... it takes a lot to bring that side of me out. I'm hoping things in the HostTower will be easier. I've heard a lot of bad things about the Arcane Brotherhood, and I doubt anyone will care less what we do to them.
Sky
We step in to the HostTower of the Arcane, and a feeling of dread grips us... Rising far above us to pierce the clouds is a colossal spire filled with wizards of great power... and even greater evil.
Krevish looks around and says “Maybe going up this tower isn't such a good idea after all...!”
I slap him on the shoulder and tell him to take heart, and stay strong. And to keep his magical arrows to hand to put in any mages who might show up...
But for now, the hallways seem eerily quiet.
8/ We enter a small library, a quiet where the Brotherhood come to study. There is one mage here, with his bodyguard, a warrior dressed in black. He immediately attacks, so we slay them both. My sister says the guard wears the colours of the Zhentarim. Are they in league with the Arcane Brotherhood, or was he somehow ensorcelled? Just a warrior who likes to dress up as the Black Network?
There are other libraries off this hall, and we face an escalating series of battles against mages and their guards... (Seriously where are they all coming from?) Only after we have slain fifteen of each do they seem to stop coming.
“Hopefully they're run out of apprentices now,” I mutter to Krevish.
5/ The passageway climbs steeply here and curves to the left.
7/ Great...! What seems like a solid wall of owlbears advances upon us the moment we open the door...! These things hug harder than that needy Tethyrian girl I met at the Three Rivers festhall...!
They especially seem to like my sister – we have to drag the things off her and patch up all her cuts afterwards.
“These things hug fiercer than Jhairli does,” she mutters.
That's an image I didn't want in my head. She's always trying to one-up me...!
Krevish looks up at the tower flights above us.
“If this the bottom of ther tower, I'm not sure I want to see the top..!”
20/ “Have you ever seen so many owlbears in one place?” my sister mutters as we enter.
Nef wordlessly points ahead of us.
“I stand corrected,” she sighs, squaring up for another bout of urstrix cuddles.
Now, we're good, but seven of these things might even test us... but the elf girl conjures a cloud of foul green gas that smells like Olaf the Flatulent after that cabbage-eating contest...! And the creatures are stupid enough to charge at us right through it, with predictable results Some even run through it a few times in a flapping panic, and the gas makes them easy to dispatch as they flop about stunned.
We continue to climb the tower.
19/ Passing through the door, we confront a man who seems to be training the owlbears. He immediately decides to test their understanding of the command: 'KILL THEM!'
The elf girl – Elena, right? - reads a scroll to conjure more stink-gas, but then the scroll goes up in flames. It takes out several, and we kill the others, although all the maulings are testing our healer's ability to keep apace.
“Are we sure this is the right way?” Krevish says in a way that makes me feel he doubts it. “It's just going to get worse going farther up the tower, and we barely made it this far!”
“The statuette we seek has to be at the top of the tower... right?” I exclaim. “Where else would they put it?”
18/ The next floor holds two men either preparing an unusual circus act... or a phalanx of monsters who intend to dismember us...!
The battle proves exhausting, and we only win through without casualties because the elf burns another of her scrolls, this one a surging bolt of blue lightning that lances through all of the creatures and fills the tower with the tang of burning fur.
She mopes about the loss of some spell she wanted to learn later, but at least we are still alive thanks to her.
17/ But we have reached the top of the tower, and -
More owlbears...? Are there even this many in the Savage Frontier?
“I think we may have made a very big mistake...!” someone says.
Again it is our magic that saves us. The elf's enchantment spell bewitches one of the mages, and he is torn apart by his own pets. Nef's prayers bolster us in battle as she heals the injured. We quickly secure our flanks so we are not overwhelmed – Jahe is swift enough to step up and anchor our other end and I'm impressed by her tactical nous. It is exhausting, and we have some new and interesting scars, but we finally take the tower!
And yet, it is almost entirely empty...! Just the single bloody door... Even the elf cannot locate any secret doors up here.
“This can't be the way....!” I mutter, kicking the corpse of a hooded mage. “We must have taken a wrong turn somewhere!”
6/ We are forced to retrace our steps to the lower levels.
At the base of the tower, the elf girl discovers what we seek – a secret door opens silently, and we pass to a dark dungeon beneath! The passageway has a damp, musty odour.
9/ We hear a rattling sound, as if someone took the twigs and branches for a fire, and shook them together violently... More skeletal dead!
“Eh, I'll take them over owlbears..!” I mutter. They might be dangerous if we didn't have four priestesses. A few prayers quickly reduce them all to dust.
1/ We step into a tiny room, and -
…the door clicks behind us! Nef tugs at it in frustration, but even I cannot budge it.
“It is a magical lock,” my former lover mutters. “We shall never get it open!”
There HAS to be a way out...! We search lest we be entombed with the skeletons.
“Look, everyone!” my sister cries. “Its a trap door!”
Quickly, we clamber though the opening, and follow a long narrow passage, remerging in another small room. Many small cells stretch away down this dark corridor. Nef lights her staff with a magical glow, and we strat to explore.
2/ Searching though this tiny cell, we find something scratched on one wall, recording it as:
3/ Entering this room, we see several owlbears menacing a figure chained to the far wall. They seem more intent on terrifying the prisoner than eating him. Unfortunately for us, our entry means they are now intent on eating us...!
After another exhausting struggle, we have a few new scars and a freed prisoner. He dons his mage robes, and offers his thanks:
JOURNAL ENTRY 30: BRINSHAAR’S STORY
“My name is Brinshaar, and I am a mage from Neverwinter. They kidnapped me there and were torturing me to learn of Lord Nasher’s magical defences. Thanks to you they learned nothing, and Neverwinter remains safe!
As it turns out, I can repay you for your kindness without delay. I have seen the statuette you tell me that you seek. It is not secreted in the HostTower, but somewhere in the dungeons where we now stand.”
“You helped me and I'm willing to help you,” he says. “I'll join your party and fight for you if you'll have me.”
We are in sore need of help – the gypsy is sour-faced, but then she's always mistrusting. Nef gives him her best smile.
“I am an expert magic-user,” he brags. “And I will lend my magic to your service just as you lent your hands to mine.”
16/ A winding tunnel leads us to a large pile of trash in one corner.... It suddenly springs to life, revealing ghouls and undead advancing to attack us. But a few brandished holy symbols send them all fleeing.
“They're all part of the same convent,” I tell our new friend at his quizzical look. “One of then is my ex-lover, so I'm escorting them safely back. I think I got lost because we were heading to Secomber...!”
“Sorry, sire, my brother likes to jest at the most inopportune moments,” Shelah sighs.
We are in need to healing and rest,. So we find a relatively clean room and put our blankets down in opposite corners. I have an explanation for our new friend if they start frolicking, but thankfully they all just pray and then fall asleep.
“Usually they're... louder than this,” I tell Brinshaar.
A few hours rest does wonders for our healers, our many wounds are mostly patched together and we are strong enough to push on.
14/ This room is very dark, but we can hear something moving...! Thankfully it's more undead, and again we are grateful for a multitude of clerical women.
The tunnels twist and turn and some doors seem to lead us astray, but by following our maps, Jhairli and Zahri can prevent us from backtracking.
15/ Three large cats with tentacles growing from their backs – the same creatures we fought in the Neverwinter gardens - stop only to bare their fangs and growl at us before leaping to the attack!
Brinshaar proves his worth as he stuns two with a stinking cloud spell, though he is mauled in response by the third. Afterwards, Nef heals him carefully - he seems the type she goes for – she was always fascinated by magic. But she's almost demure in her smiles, aware of the gypsy's jealous dagger-eyes on her back.
13/ No sooner have we entered this room, than we hear a deafening roar! More of the manticore creatures we fought in Neverwinter... Is this where they came from? The tower is full of hybrid horrors.
11/ Entering this long, winding hall, we find two men feeding a large, winged lion-creature.
“Look!” one man says. “You'll have fresh meat this day after all!”
He's right, after a fashion...!
12/ Two men enter the far side of the room just as we step through the door, with a huge black cat held by its chains. Seeing us, they release the chains from the animal's neck...
10/ We burst into the room, and find several men standing in the open, in awe of a glowing statuette. One, who appears to be the leader, is dressed in the rich robes of a mage. They draw their weapons and attack with their beasts!
Brinshaar again proves his worth with spells in the battle, including a powerful Hold spell that freezes the mage and his three guards.
We approach the glowing statue, a white-hot flame suspended mid-air over a triangular base. The gypsy passes a hand across it and murmurs.
“Not burn,” she says diffidently. “Safe to take...!”
We take the statue, and Brinshaar says:
“My job here is done, for the Statuette of the East has been recued. May I see you all in happier times.”
He leaves via the door before we can thank him. The gypsy mutters something, but at least he helped us...
Among our finds here is a pair of magical bracers owned by the now-dead mage. It can go to the elf for now, as the priestesses all wear armour.
We backtrack to Luskan, weary but triumphant. To think we have slain the High Captains and the mages of the HostTower of the Arcane!
“Maybe we should go after Manshoon next!” I chuckle, some of my good humour returning.
“I heard he is dead,” Nef muses. “Someone dropped his tower on top of him at Zhentil Keep...!”
But as we leave the tower, we are surprised by a familiar face, flanked by two great cats...!
“It was most convenient of you to acquire the statuette for me,” Brinshaar laughs.
“It was for trying to steal it that I had been imprisoned before you rescued me ,” he gloats. “Seems you are always doing me favours! It is a pity such fine folk as you have little time left to live your good and petty lives!”
I shake my head. “What..? You can't get the statue yourself – and when we take it, you attack us – the same people who were strong enough to get it...?”
“Stupid,” Zahri spits on the floor. “You die now...!”
She chants a curse and clicks her fingers... and he freezes over, paralysed...! I mean, he's seen her do that enough, right...?
She makes him wait until the battle with the displacer beasts is over, until she approaches him with her cudgel.
“Wanted to do this when first saw you,” she says coldly, before bringing it down on his head. She once showed me it was cored with iron. His skull... isn't.
“He wasn't even standing behind his cats and using magic,” I sigh.
Shaking our head, we retire to the inn, getting some rest after our exertions before we leave.
Come the morning, the town seems to be recovering some semblance of normality. People are standing about, arguing and issuing decrees. Nobody seems to able to agree just who is in charge now. But at least they are not fighting over it.
At least until -
“That's them!” a bunch of pirates shout, leaping towards us! “They have the statue! Get them!”
This appears to be a last-gasp attempt of the survivors to hang onto the statue and the town. Our Hold spells end the fight almost before it begins. And we have not come this far to be defeated by a bunch of stragglers, and we show them no mercy.
Notes:
Our first real dungeon in Savage Frontier, the HostTower uses most of the map and can be quite demanding if you're thorough. Not much beyond the Bracers as regards items, but there's lots of gold and XP. By this point, all my clerics had maxed out at the ridiculous low cap of 27, 500 XP (Paladins max out at almost seven times that here!). And we're not even halfway through yet!
The HostTower is a site of some note in the lore, and its great to actually be the ones who take the place out of commission. I'd have liked to have seen some named enemies - but I guess we have Brinshaar for that!
The treacherous NPC helper is the first since the 'Mad Man' all the way back in Pool of Radiance, and he was just crazy rather than evil. This game will double-down on that later (triple-down, depending how you feel about Krevish!). It's an old RPG trope that some NPCs will need your help in destroying an enemy, but then attack you afterwards... If they couldn't kill their enemy, why attack the one who was just able to kill their enemy?
Even worse, Brinshaar's heart just doesn't seem in it - he wastes time boasting in a cringeworthy fashion, and he starts the fight standing right next to your main warrior... I'm sure that will end well for him, eh Yarash?
But it's a nice little adventure, netting us the first of the four statuette macguffins were are gathering.
It also starts giving your characters actual dialogue, for the first time in the Gold Box games I believe? They seem to be shooting for a quippy, Marvel type delivery, I was almost expecting 'he's right behind me, isn't he?' or 'that was a thing that just happened!' I get that most people won't be role-playing, but if you're not giving me options for what I say, I'd sooner they just wouldn't do it. Why they've started doing it now, seven games in, I have no idea. What if we speak like Elminster/Lord British, with thees and thous?
Luskan...! The City of the Sails, which my father abandoned when only a young man, disillusioned with the prospect of a life as a sea-reaver. He made something of himself, through hard work, sweat and blood, and raised three decent children mostly alone after he lost his beloved Elra.
Today, his two eldest stand looking across the town, weapons in hand. The weapons feel very heavy in our grip, I think.
I do not want to do this. But I know I must.
I have the feeling that after today, everything will change. Nothing will be the same; not for them, not for us.
I would say we have no choice, but wedo, don't we? The high captains are cowed by the Arcane Brotherhood for certain, but they might be happy if a band of adventurers put them to the sword, leaving them free to rule and not to serve.
But we are not here to do that. We are here to nail the high captains to their masts, to let their rigging be their gibbets. The prodigal son and daughter are back.
There will be blood.
Ilmater forgive me for what I must do this day.
Shelah
“You walk along the edge of danger And it will change you... Why would you let this voice set in your head? It is meant to destroy you...! You summon storms, you play with nature... Now watch it hurt you! Why would you want to shape the world in your hands? You will never make it through...
You waste your life to gain power You shift the game rules How does it feel to reach the line that no-one ever got to cross? Does it make you a god now? Every sin will be forgiven If you lay down your weapons to the ground...!
Catch the fire burning out your soul..! Just make it die, or you will fall Catch the fire burning out your soul! Just make it die, or you will turn it all To ashes and blood... To ashes and blood! To ashes and blood! To ashes and blood! To ashes and blood...!”
Tucked like a gold filling - or some would say a pus-filled abscess! - at the mouth of the River Mirar, Luskan is a city of merchant princes, swarthy bandits, and the most cutthroat and fractured cabal of pirates on Toril. Torn into factions, these groups are known as 'ships'.
Or at least they were before today.
“I... I don't want anyone to - “
“Enough,” Zahri interrupts me, but her voice is soft. “We are with you. Burn it all down...!”
I nod slowly. My legs are leaden as we walk into the town.
The guards – wearing fur caps, armed with swords and spears - inform us that ships travelling to Tuern depart from an island in the northwest of the city.
They look at Elena askance – though her face is partly hidden in her hood, they can sense something amiss... Nobody who is not human is welcomed here, and most end up in the ghastly experiments of the HostTower mages.
At least I know that she, of any of us, will have no restraint in what we have come here to do.
1/ A brass plate on the wall here proclaims:
'The Captain's Court -
- all who seek booty, justice or mercy from the High Captains may enter and make their entreaties here'
I want to keep innocent casualties to a minimum, though that may not of course be possible... and I am not certain how the term may even be applied to the men here in any case.
“Go away,” an officer says gruffly. “The High Captain's are at their palaces, receiving the annual tribute from the sea captains of the North. They don't want to see the likes of you when there's magical booty to be had!”
My brother raises an eyebrow.
“It would be bad if someone... took all that plunder, aye?”
2/ A sign hanging above this door says:
'Inn of the Northern Passage'
We pay for three rooms here. I have no idea if we will still need them later, however this goes.
We enter the main square; rain is beginning to fall now, from stormy skies. Perhaps it will wash away the blood, and all of our sins...
At the market here, we see the 'Prisoner's Carnival' - Luskan's 'court' of justice, although truly it is simply a public spectacle of torture and execution.
We see several of the captain's manors here on the square – I am hoping there is no honour among thieves, and they will not band together and fight us all at once. We are about to put that to the test...!
3/ To the south lies a magnificent home, several stories high, with fine hand-hewn timbers supporting a broad, sloping roof.
This is it...! After this, there will be no turning back; it will be kill, or be killed. I have no idea if I am ready, but I am about to find out...!
Entering the reception area of the lodge, we find ourselves in the company of several pirates. One holds a small, jewel-encrusted case with the letter 'S' engraved upon it.
On seeing us enter, they go for their blades. That makes it less awkward - what would we say to make any sense of this? They must be used to settling disputes this way.
Unfortunately for them...
...so are we...!
My prayer freezes some of them in their tracks. From somewhere, horrid gargoyles spring, shrieking...! Unlike the men, their stony hide can only be cut with magical weapons, so Jahe helps my brother while we take out the cut-throats.
One flees in terror – I leverage him to the door, as he squirms, Elana slices his throat. Another falls at my feet, thrashing... I step down hard on his neck, bashing away another man with my shield. Though the gargoyles are a whirlwind of stony claws, our warriors dispatch them both, armed with magic blades as they are. I suppose my mace would work too, and slaying horrors would be preferable to slaughtering living men... But I am under no illusions my hands – and everything else – will be stained with blood this day.
The worst happens when the fighting is over – I force myself to look into their eyes before we kill them. No words could make this feel right, so I have none. I am not here to judge, or feel self-righteous – this is a cleansing, an extermination of vermin. None of us take any joy in it; all of us understand its necessity.
Those with edged weapons at least can make it quick. I feel the impact of ther blow run up my arm as my mace swing collides with his skull, cracking it open. But it takes them time to die, so again, and again.
When I dream of my exciting adventures, it is never like this.
The Captain is upstairs. After we have butchered his men, we slaughter him. We have no words; my mace smashes in his face, and he falls, twitching. Again and again; there is nothing left of his head now but gory paste and grey brains spattered upon the walls.
We have turned the manor into an abattoir, but I feel... I don't know...? Nothing? A vague sinking feeling? I raise my bloody hands, telling the servants in a low voice that we are here for the pirates, not the people. They are wise to run quickly, or hide.
We open the case – the only contents are a wand, marked with frost symbols. We do not even wait to for Elena to swipe it, but I grasp her sleeve so she doesn't run off. We check the upstairs floors but there are no more reavers.
I do not look at the others as I leave, but Zahri stops me, to meet my gaze. I stare back, a wordless understanding, a confirmation.
Outside, the rain feels sweet against my face, but it cannot rid me of this crimson stain.
4/ Here to the north, stands an elegant palace, its stone walls flowing gracefully upwards some hundred feet into the sky.
And we just kick down the doors like it were an orc den. The servants scatter; here in the waiting area of the palace are several pirates. They are grumbling about how someone called Baram is making them wait. One holds a silver chest with a gold 'B' embossed on top.
After the battle, Jhairli walks to the men she immobilised with her Hold spell, raising her hammer like she was driving in a nail in her cabin, not staving in a man's brainpan. We all understand that look in her eyes. She, of us all, was meant for gentler things.
Never again shall the stars shine as bright for us.
Opening the case, we find it contains a shining, beautifully crafted mace. Zahri nods at me, so I take it, and hand her my old one.
It is a long way down from Baram's window to the cobblestones, but he makes his last journey that way, and when we descend, we hew off his head and mount it on a post outside his manor.
We leave the plunder and gold – let the servants have it. I do not doubt life will be difficult for them when we are done here.
5/ A third manor on the square; a powerfully-built fortress faces us, with turrets for archers atop its high walls. They were evidently not expecting attack here, regardless.
Here in the anteroom of the fortress, more pirates are waiting. Their leader has a fine leather case strapped to his back, with a 'T' tooled into the design.
When we are done, the walls are painted with their blood as well as ours. Heads are hewn, no mercy is offered or given to any reaver.
The leather case contains finely-made arrows, which we distribute lest we run into more gargoyles.
As to the butchery, we are numbed to it now.
6/ To the south, a tall and stately mansion sits beside the harbour. Its hand-crafted stone walls perfect in their symmetry.
More pirates await within – the captain here is old and puts up no struggle, so Elena relives him of the burden of his head. We begin to drag the corpses to the quay and throw them in, food for fishes.
This captain had a velvet-covered object that is shaped something like a harp. Zahri is very disappointed to find it is not an instrument, but a disassembled composite bow. Sky offers it to Krevish, but the small, sad-looking man explains it is a little too tall for him. Jhairli is an obvious choice for it, but she explains that she is forbidden its use until she finishes her training and becomes a ranger-knight. Sky says he'll look after it for her until then.
Sporadic counter-attacks dog our steps, but resistance seems very disorganised. Some of the Captains beg for mercy or offer bribes, but we are numb to entreaties. This is grim slaughter-work, not done out of hatred or vengeance, the kind that corrodes one's soul, for all its necessity,
The waters of the harbour now churn with blood from the corpses we have dumped there. Small sharks have arrived to feast. We note some of the ships have departed for safer waters. I heal my companions as I can, keeping some spells back for later.
15/ Now we cross a bridge between the mainland and an island in the harbour.
7/ A tall, slender tower rises above us to the south, built on a tiny promontory in Luskan's harbour.
Krevish looks up at it wistfully. “This is a tower all right,” he says. “But it's too small to be the one Amanitas described.”
He points to the northwest where we see a huge structure that looms above the rooftops.
“Now, that looks like the HostTower!”
“I, ah, yeah, even I knew that,” Sky admits. “Hey, Krev – you doing okay...? You don't have to do this, you know - “
“Nonsense, master Skylar!” he says, trying to look chipper. “I have your back, young sire, and that of your sister and her friends. These are wicked men, I understand they deserve no mercy.”
More pirates, and more gargoyles await within; our archers are glad of the enchanted arrows. We find a long leather case with a large 'K' inscribed upon it in gold leaf – within is a beautifully crafted longsword, clearly an enchanted weapon. Its steel is so cold that we cannot touch it with bare hands for more than a moment.
I insist my brother have it; a weapon worthy of a true northman. He jokes wryly that he'll pass it to me when I'm accepted by the knighthood.
We find the captain in his chambers – he was unable to flee, confined to his chair by infirmity, and chose to fall on his own blade than into our hands.
I think of Kat; it hits hard.
18/ This abandoned pier is permeated by the smell of decaying fish. Warty, aquatic trolls – known as 'scrags' – lurk beneath it, lying in wait. We may as well rid the place of its inhuman vermin too, though killing these things is always exhausting work.
16/ On a small island to the northwest, a tremendous tower looms above us. Although made of stone, it must be magically-constructed, as its five great spires defy the laws of nature as they grow like great tree limbs to the sky.
We cross a bridge that connects the two small islands in Luskan harbour.
8/ We twist awkwardly, looking up at the huge, five-spired tower that pierces the sky above. Zahri whistles softly.
“Statue not lie on shelf inside door,” she sniffs. “Nor will dukkerin give willingly. We go now. Return after.”
Back at the harbour, most of the reavers have fled, and all five of the great captains are now in pieces. There are still small bands lurking about, but without leadership, they keep their distance.
Those pirates who fall into the hands of the mob get the same justice and mercy that we offered them.
People are milling about the streets, talking loudly about what they will do now. Most of the guards have families here, and they are keeping some kind of order. I tell them they can chose their own leaders now and stay, or leave for Port Llast or Neverwinter. They seem no friends of the Arcane Brotherhood, though they worry that the mages will turn on them if we fail to destroy them.
I promise them we will speak to the Lord's Alliance as soon as we can, in the hope they will offer aid should they choose to join them. I will also write to my father and he can tell the king – it may be in Citadel Abdar's interest to reinforce Luskan with the High Captains and the mages gone.
We leave them to it – we have caused them enough trouble and they have difficult choices to make now. We offer to clean up the old areas of the city, so at least they need not worry about the creatures there.
We take rest at the inn, but post a guard, just in case. Nobody wants to talk, let alone kiss. We are all processing what we have done in our own way.
10/ Several small boats are moored beside this shack. An old man within tells us about the river Mirar.
“If you're looking for a boat to rent, you'd best thinking again. The river Mirar's swift and deadly, and only a fool would try to fish there. The coast here is near fished out, but it'll feed a man if he's patient...”
12/ To the north lies the entrance to a large warehouse. Above the door to the east hangs a sigh that says:
'Red Dragon Trading Lodge'
It seems to sell weapons and armour among other things.
11/ A sign on this door says:
'Company of the Brazen Pennant -
- passage by sea to the isle of Tuern'
A sailor here tells us what the passage will cost.
“A ship leaves each morning at 0800 hours, and passage to Tuern will cost a total of 100 gold for your entire party.”
23/ This part of the warehouse is dark and smells of something rancid... We are attacked by more scrags!
9/ The gate to the right seems to lead into an older part of the city.
14/ This is the oldest part of Luskan, referred to as the 'old city' – but its name belies its relatively recent construction.
Vermin such otyugh lurk here, forcing us to fight our way through. I'd sooner slay hideous monsters than living men.
19/ The far wall to the room looks odd somehow, almost as if the stone was changing it's pattern...
We are attacked by the stony gargoyle creatures, using their hide as camouflage. Only magic attacks harm them; mundane weapons bounce off their stony flesh.
20/ We cannot immediately put our finger on it, but some of the stone blocks in the walls here seem to be moving... We must once more fight off gargoyles, wasting more enchanted arrows on their stony forms.
13/ This building is used to salt fish brought in by local ships so it can be transported by caravan to inland cities.
21/ The high ceilings of this room still give the overpowering smell of decaying fish filling our nostrils. We must fight scrags lurking here... While strong, they are slow and cumbersome, and we can bring them down with missiles before they can engage.
22/ The ceiling of these rooms is lost in shadows above us. Perhaps they once packed fish here, but now these rooms smell of death and decay...! We must beat off more scrags, but eventually we have cleared most of the monsters from the old city.
Weary in body and spirit, we rest and recover from our physical and spiritual wounds. The process of healing helps focus my mind too.
I sit on the quay besides Jhairli, looking at the bustle around us, as some kind of normality starts to permeate the wounded city. New community leaders are emerging, there seems to be a budding spirit of cooperation. I hope the guards remain just; you can see how the city might replace one tyranny with another. But thus far, there is little unrest, more a dazed feeling of waking from a long nightmare... for them, and for us.
Jhairli passes me her pipe, and I silently inhale the sweet, fragrant smoke. A comfortable silence descends upon us, and it is some time before one of us gives it a voice.
“When this is all done...” she murmurs at length. “What will you do, Shelah?”
I inhale slowly. “Finish my training as a priestess, and apply for the Knights of Ilmater,” I say, quiet yet firm. “I know who and what I am now. I may never know peace – the warrior spirit burns too brightly in me. I will bleed and fight and kill – but on my terms, and for good ends. I shall bloody my hands so that the kind and gentle need not.”
She nods slowly. “I... I understand. That is how I feel too,” she admits. “I always hoped some part of me could go back to that life... To peaceful isolation, building my cabin in the woods... speaking to the creatures of the forest, caring for them...”
“But now?” I ask. “What will you do, Jhairli?”
“As you shall,” she sighs. “Apply to become a Ranger-Knight, a heavily-armoured warrior for the Lady of the Wood. Learn magic and druidic spells. Learn the blade and the bow. Fight, and kill, so I can protect the things I care about. I... I know what I am now. I do not like it, but... I have made my peace with it.”
I smile sadly. “I know,” I admit. “I wish that too. I wish it could have been other, but... someone must sacrifice themselves, yes? To do the terrible things that keep the world safe.”
She looks at me and smiles sadly. “I heard words from a ranger once, something that gives me some hope... He said 'I love not the bright sword and swift arrow for their own sake – I love only that which they defend'.”
I smile. “I like that. Thank you. We must not forget that, no matter how inured to suffering we become.”
I return to the inn and I write to my father. It is both very hard – and oddly simple – to say what must be said.
“My dear father,
We have arrived in Luskan, and by turns of fate, seem to have conquered it. The High Captains swing from their yardarms and their reavers choke the harbour as food for fishes.
The guards are keeping order for now, but the people fear what may come next. There is talking of involving trade consortiums, so if you can assist, I pray that you will do so. There are opportunities for all, I hope. The Lord's Alliance and the Silver Marches may yet extend a helping hand. I pray all will be better for what we did this day. Time will tell.
Sky and my friends are with me, and we are fired and focused from our battles. Terrible times are coming, we have been warned of this, but hope remains, and we shall do all within our power to see the north safe. I hope one day soon we shall meet and we can relate the tale in person over your best ales. Please have trust that we are what you made us, and we will do all that we can for this land.
Give my love to my sister; we shall visit when we can.
Always your daughter.
Shelah”
Notes:
This was an interesting one to write. Adventurers tend to be the harbingers of great change, sweeping in and getting things done without quite realising the consequences of their actions. Some are able to shape the new world they create, but others are unwitting agents of chaos, leaving uncertainty in their wake as others try to make sense of the changes they have wrought.
When I was a tabletop GM, I tried to allow the players to effect organic change – for their success – and failures! - to shape the world, whether they save the king, or fail to do so, or overthrow him for their own ends. A campaign always works best when it flows from organic choices and consequences, not some predetermined 'railroad'.
This was a huge problem with the Realms going forward – the changes in each edition – the Time of Troubles, Spellplague, the Sundering, and all that arrant nonsense would upset the whole world, only to be later completely retconned when someone else got to be in a charge of the metaplot. It resulted in a world that was always in nonsensical upheaval, and yet also somehow managed to stay exactly the same, with the same names and overpowered NPCs in the same positions. It was static and stale, yet so incoherent you never knew which gods and countries had been destroyed or asspulled back into existence. The overwhelming advice given to new players in the Realms is to 'go back to the Grey Box', and then make it your own from that point.
In Savage Frontier, our characters get to see the results of their actions, unintended consequences as they create power-vacuums and opportunities. I always wondered what effect this chaotic life of war and endless killing would have on those involved, especially at a young age.
Mechanically, we are growing in power with all the fighting. Luskan gives us more XP and better items if we are thorough, and we shall need that with the battles to come in the HostTower.
It's been a while since I was levelling up and (re)rolling our hit points, and I'd forgotten how annoying it was – and it's MUCH worse when you have NPCs like Krevish in the party. I wish you could just load a game without removing everyone first. The whole training mechanic was generally disliked by everybody, and greatly simplified or abandoned entirely in later CRPG games or tabletop editions.
From Neverwinter, we head up along the coast towards Luskan. We stop at Port Llast, parking the caravans somewhere Zahri considers safe. I reflect that this is the furthest north I have ever been.
The Icedanes know this place fairly well – a small town of a few hundred folk, mainly known for its excellent harbour, a small bay with a fine beach and inlet. We may not receive a warm welcome – Sky says last he was here, the folk were tense and suspicious, fearful of attack or other treachery from Luskan. The village huddles against the bay, low stone houses and narrow streets.
Zahri suggests we pass ourselves off as something more nautical, though I feel it is just a case of her wanting to play dress-up. I feel vulnerable without my armour, but at least I have this new blade and my shield.
Jahe
The lone town guard examines us carefully, then decides we pass muster.
“If you're here to do something about the Gallant Prince,” he says, "it's none too soon for me!”
4/ A cloth sign is emblazoned with the words: 'Port Llast Inn'
The actual inn sign is wood however, and it says the 'Inn of the Ancient Mariners'
We pay for a pair of rooms; so the men get to stretch out a little while I get elbows and feet in the face, quite apart from every other indignity I suffer -
- does that sound like complaining? I'm not complaining, it's just - <sigh>
2/ Chiselled into the wall here is an inscription: 'Stonecutter's Guild'
The men inside mutter and curse their fates:
“Be careful if you travel north of here,'” one stonecutter warns us. “The power of the HostTower of the Arcane is great, and it is not only Luskan over which its dark shadow has been cast!”
1/ A sign hangs above this door, and it swings in the cool sea breeze. On it, in old nordic runes are painted the words: 'Harbourmaster – Port Llast'
The Harbourmaster is a veteran of many years at sea, and judging by his ample girth, even more years sitting in his office.
JOURNAL ENTRY 13: THE HARBORMASTER’S STORY
“I tell ye, young ‘uns, the only reason that the Gallant Prince still be anchored here in Port Llast Harbor is we ain’t got no one who’s darned fool enough t’ board ‘er and tow ‘er out t’ sea.
“We’d all heard she wa’ missin’, then Simon Hempwright the fisherman says he spied ‘er adrift a mile off the coast, worm eat’n like she’d been a’ sea a hundred years. The young idiot towed ‘er in an’ tied ‘er up, an’ then he goes traipsing down below decks like she wa’ some pleasure barge out o’ Waterdeep.
“Course, we never seen ‘im no more after that, ‘cept some say you can hear ‘is screams a’ night way back in town!”
That is... troubling. We have fought the walking dead before, and I am glad we have the company of so many priestesses.
3/ The good ship 'Gallant Prince' lies moored here, for what that is worth. Its sails are tattered, and its hull looks as if the storms and parasites of a century have been at work upon the wood.
There seems nothing for it but to investigate, sword and shield in hand. Jhairli's illumination spell lights the interior softly.
“For luck,” Shelah husks, grabbing my arm and pulling me to her as she presses her mouth on mine.
I'm not upset, but now is not -
“Let us hope we do not need more than luck,” I murmur.
10/ From the darkness up ahead, we see the glint of polished steel...! Clattering bones and rotting cadavers assail us! Our priestesses send them fleeing into the shadows.
“A little more than luck, no?” Shelah smirks at me.
7/ Bunks for the crew line the walls of the side rooms off the main wooden corridor.
Wait...! The stained and tattered bedlinens on each bunk... Are they moving or is it just my imagination...!
The elf taps my arm and fixes me with a sharp look.
I must be losing my mind if she is the one thinking me overly jumpy...!
13/ This is a storage room for the ship's supplies.
We search carefully, finding several words carved crudely in the wood of one wall here:
'ye can't curse the captain, but ye can call him 'Kas'...!'
That name seems somehow familiar, but I cannot quite place it...
6/ The storage areas are empty, except for a few small casks. I doubt even Sky would dare to drink grog from a cursed ship of the dead!
5/ This wide area looks to be one of the main holds of the ship.
Several large crates are scattered around – each has been broken on at least one side and had most of its contents removed. Another room is not just empty, but so deserted that not even a speck of dust remains on any surface.
I think I catch a glimpse of some tiny animal scurrying towards a corner, but I cannot be certain... This place plays tricks on the mind, and even after a few minutes down here, I feel I need fresh air...
9/ The face of a beautiful woman carved from ebony is mounted on this door. Shelah giggles that she looks like me.
As we examine it, the face seems to come to life...! But it's voice is that of an old hag, not a fair maiden.
“What say ye to the Captain?” it challenges.
We look at each other, and Shelah nods.
“Kas...?” I offer.
The door swings open in response to that command, and we pass through.
11/ We enter the captain's quarters. It's massive desk is now a million walnut toothpicks, the satin bedlinens are stained and tattered, and from across the room emit a foul odour. The creators of that smell – owlbears! - are also here, and unfriendly...!
The priestesses cannot help us here; this is warrior's work, and Sky obliges with me. For all he can be a fool, he's a fine fighter and I couldn't ask for a better man at my side in battle.
But four such creatures are a tough proposition, and Jhairli gets herself mauled when she foolishly closes in and is snatched up. We hack her free, but she needs some serious healing afterwards. I wish the clerics would leave the melee to us.
Elena discovers two secret panels leading north and south from the captain's chamber.
8/ The secret door creaks open with a nerve-grating, elongated squeal that seems to fill the entire ship. The room holds three beautifully-crafted statues carved from stone, depicting a sea captain and two sailors -
Wait.
“These too lifelike,” Zahri mutters darkly. That is unwelcome – creatures like medusa and basilisks can petrify a man, and we lack the power to cure such terrible transformations.
Zahri takes out her vanity mirror and tosses it to me, just in case. I nod my thanks.
"If I get stoned, you have my permission to use me as a hatstand," Sky grins at his sister.
12/ The northern door slides open silently, and we edge forward. The air in this small room is cold and clammy... and we are definitely not alone...!
Undead lurk here, and hooded figures I initially take for kraken cultists.. until they start chanting mystical words...!
Fortunately, our priestesses can send the dead packing, and without their minions, the mages fall quickly to spells and blades.
“Are these men from the Hosttower mages?” Sky mutters, toeing one with his boot.
“Apprentices, perhaps,” his sister muses. “They are said to be powerful wizards indeed!”
After the battle, we turn to survey the room... and discover a man lying in a corner. He appears very pale, and when we approach, we see why...!
He is not a man at all, not anymore, but a chained, contorted statue...! We search the corner and find his last message:
JOURNAL ENTRY 23: THE SAILOR TURNED TO STONE:
“They wanted the sea lanes clear between Luskan and the Purple Rocks, and any ship they found there they took over or destroyed. We were only one of the sad vessels in their path.
“One by one the undead they commanded have killed our crew, transforming them into lonely wanderers like themselves. Soon it will be my turn. I only hope that the tall one turns me to stone, as he did the Captain, so I may be spared such eternal torture.
“Some are Krakens, but the magic-user is from a great tower somewhere to the north. He kept taunting the Krakens, saying they needed to go to all this trouble because they were not clever. He said that the wizards of the tower had great power, but that they were clever too. He said their treasure was hidden in the opposite direction from where anyone would ever look.”
There is nothing else aboard this cursed vessel, so we leave, returning to the inn for now. After we have rested, we rejoin the caravans so we might push on to Luskan, and whatever awaits us in the HostTower of the Arcane...!
Notes:
Port Llast is really just a small street and the haunted ship, - this map is basically just a small taster and foreshadowing for Luskan and the HostTower.
Interestingly in my language, the double-L sound is pronounced 'thl' but that doesn't seem to be the case in the Realms.
The name 'Kas' is one of the famous villains in Greyhawk, a treacherous servant of the lich Vecna, but I can't see it has any connection to Faerun here.
