Adventurers Present:

Balasar the Paladin
Naivara the hot Wizard
Joreb the Paladin
And in spirit Jonn Redgar.
Also present was DC, the DM, may the light of a thousand dawns shine upon him.

The adventurers began their evening with a quick discussion on themselves, their levels and various new powers. Some new loot was also found on the bodies of the dead cultists. A beautiful golden skeletal ramhead amulet worth 250 gp was taken by Naivara to accentuate her plunging neckline and 150 gp found its way into the group’s coffers. As Naivara put on the necklace she joked with the apprentice wizard, “you played your part well, we shall return the favour some time, jokes aside, your abilities were not as bad as we jested”. Joreb cut the apprentice Tobolar Quickfoot deeply with a cutting remark, “he’s not interested… wizards don’t go in for that sort of thing because magic is so much more thrilling”

A long discussion followed with Tobolar’s master, Nimozaran. The group managed to convince the master about their worth and good intentions through the diplomatic skills of Joreb and the other party members. Joreb went into details of his understandings of the pyramid of Shadows, its energies and obvious extra-dimensional purpose. The paladin uses his insights and understandings and the elderly mage is convinced of the groups merits.

Nimozaran then slowly reveals his knowledge on the pyramid in his gravely voice…a very long winded account recorded here:
Pyramid of Shadows
“When first the pyramid appeared I stood utterly confounded, just as astounded as the rest of the town. What was this dire black pyramid floating over our small community? But instead of leaving as many have chosen to do, I decided to find out the truth to this mystery. I went into the oldest part of the Mages’ Guild’s library and started dusting of tomes I haven’t even opened before. It has taken me weeks to go through all the material, but finally I found the answer in an old tome dating back to the founding of Fallcrest three hundred years ago.
Nearly five hundred years ago, a mighty tiefling wizard named Karavakos made a fatal bargain. The twin threats of minotaurs of the wild and rebellion from within threatened his iron grip over the lands of his petty kingdom. In desperation, Karavakos summoned a demon, a servant of the mighty demon prince Orcus and asked for aid. The demon whispered dark secrets to Karavakos, guiding him into building an unholy cult of the demon prince Orcus in his kingdom. In return the demon showed him a ritual and an artifact that would create a gap between the worlds, connecting one of Orcus’s unholy Shadowfell sites to the world. Karavakos, already a skilled magician, created the Rod of Ruin and the necessary ritual to bridge the gap to the Shadowfell. Skeletons, zombies, and demons flooded through the rift into the light of day. A legion of abyssal warriors came to march under his command, and he stepped up his efforts to restore his tyranny over his domain and subjects.
The hordes of demons came at what at the time seemed to be a very reasonable price. They would fight on Karavakos behalf and obey his orders. If he ever led them to defeat, however, they would abandon him and feed on his dark soul for all eternity. All the souls of his subjects would be damned to an eternity of pain in the depths of Abyss. Only an error made by the wizard could result in the demons’ defeat—no army in the world could defeat them on the field of battle. Karavakos led his hordes on one conquest after another. His first target was the neighboring minotaur tribes, which were almost driven to extinction by Karavakos undead and demon infested hordes. One tribe took refuge in the depths below Thunderspire Mountain, where they founded the city of Saruun Khel and hid from Karavakos wrath. What had been a small kingdom ruled by Karavakos grew into a mighty nation to rival the great human empire of Nerath that held sway over much of the land at this time. With winter’s arrival, Karavakos called a halt to his campaign of expansion. He returned to his palace with the eladrin princess, Vyrellis, who was to be his bride. Together, he proclaimed, they would rule a new empire, and with spring’s dawning his armies would march into the Feywild, extending their rule across two worlds.
When spring came, the demon hordes marched through the thin border between worlds. In the Feywild, though, the demons met their match. Invincible on the battlefields of the natural world, the demons had no such protection once they stepped into the Feywild. Fey spears and arrows felled the hordes, putting an end to Karavakos’s dreams of conquest— and severing his demonic bargain. At the same time, the empire of Nerath had dispatched legionnaires to eliminate the threat of the rift to the Shadowfell. The empire’s soldiers destroyed the remaining undead, sealed the opening, and built a keep to watch over the location and contain the threat. This is the site known as the Keep on the Shadowfell.
At the same time, the empire of Nerath had dispatched legionnaires to eliminate the threat of the rift to the Shadowfell. The empire’s soldiers destroyed the remaining undead, sealed the opening, and built a keep to watch over the location and contain the threat. This is the site known as the Keep on the Shadowfell. Karavakos nation died on that day, all his subjects killed and their souls brought back to the Abyss with the returning demons. At the end of the war the greatest wizards of the Neratch Empire and the Seelie Court in the Feywild created something they referred to as ‘The Pyramid of Shadow’, its purpose lost in the sand of time. This very tower, the Septarch’s Tower was build as a foci for the ritual, as it is all made up of Feystone to make sure it would never fall. Aranda Markelhay was one of the Nerathan wizards who constructed the tower. Who was later given the task to guard the Septarch’s Tower. The Markelhay family soon established the town which later would become Fallcrest and the Moonstone Keep as their residence. Generations later I guess the knowledge of their true past has been lost and none of the Markehay family today knows anything about their grand past, except that they have inherited the governance of Fallcrest for generations.
Why the pyramid has suddenly appeared over Fallcrest again is not mentioned anywhere in the tomes, but that I want you to find out. At the top of the tower there has been a teleportation circle that has been dead as long as I can remember. Two weeks ago it started to shine as a shooting star…”
As the aged mage finishes his amazing speech the group take in their situation. Balasar openly admits to his desire to throw Merry onto it and Joreb seconds the idea, adding we should tie a rope around his foot so we can drag him back.
As the group examines their surrounding more carefully they notice strange silver symbols inscribed in the floor of the top level of the Septarch’s Tower. They seem almost alive, shining bright and flowing before your eyes. Nobody can be sure were they lead, but you have your guesses.
With this new development the group discuss their future plans. Together they agree to rest up and replenish supplies before making their valiant assault on the pyramid.
They head back into Fallcrest to visit Naerumar’s Imports, Considered the finest of Fallcrest’s retail establishments, Naerumar’s Imports deals in gemstones, jewelry, art, and magic trinkets. The owner is Orest Naerumar, a tiefling who displays impeccable manners and discretion.
6 potions of healing are purchased as emergency supplies. The adventurers share these out equally amongst those here: Balasar, Mikal, Naivara nd Joreb. Then Naivara holds the spares for her other companions. A +2 magic dagger is sold and Joreb purchases a delightful +1 cloak of walking wounded (level 4) for 840 gp and that leaves the group with 860 gp. The cloak looks good on the ruggered paladin, but not as fetching as the new Orb Naivara is now wielding.
Orb of Radiance (standard)
A pinpoint of light dances on the tip of the wand.
Human Ruffian 59: 18 vs. Fort, 5 radiant damage
Hit: If the target moves nearer to you on its next turn, it takes an extra 1d6 + Constitution modifier damage.
Not to be the only one without some new loot Balasar purchases an avalanche hammer +1, enchanted with the essence of the elemental earth, this hammer strikes foes like an avalanche, a bargain at 840 gp. The level 4 item allows him to charge an enemy and hit with a melee basic attack using this weapon, the attack deals 1W extra damage.
The adventurers take an extended rest, then watch as Joreb clicks his heels together three times…
It is now time for the daring group to enter the pyramid!
As they are magically teleported into an unknown area A stench of death and blood assails you as you appear suddenly atop a pile of bodies. Humans, dwarves, elves, halflings, and others, all apparently recently killed but all wearing clothing and armor of an earlier age. The pile of bodies seems to shift, as though something might be moving beneath it. Above you, at the top of the pit, you see a hideous, two-headed giant—he’s rubbing two blades together with an eager gleam in the eyes of both its horrifying heads.

As their surroundings dawn on the party and the battle ahead looms, the astute adventurers notice Mikal, he has undergone an interesting transformation…

This was the session on the 3/5 when the PCs were attacked by Orcus Cultists before they reached the bridge to the Septarch’s Tower.

Please add detail.

This was the session on the 20/4 when the PCs were attacked by the Shadowraven Swarm on their way to the Nentir Inn.

Please add detail.

This was the session on 12/4 when the PCs returned to Fallcrest to investigate the Pyramid and were attacked in Lowtown.

Please add details.

Characters Present:
Jonn Redgar , Joreb Innitu , Glorien Ethalron , Merry Merric , Mikal Hanre, Naivara Immeral , Balasar Torrin
Writeup: Luohghcra

To be continued

Characters Present:
Jonn Redgar , Joreb Innitu , Glorien Ethalron , Merry Merric , Mikal Hanre, Naivara Immeral , Balasar Torrin
Writeup: lolvenom

Jonn Redgar , Joreb Innitu , Glorien Ethalron , Merry Merric , Mikal Hanre, Naivara Immeral
Writeup: Luohghcra

Well met once more, dear readers! Come, join me again as we follow the tales of derring-do (but mostly don’t), of our beloved adventurers…

Recall well that the party did battle mightly against stone and narrowly avoid a watery death; watch now, as they progress through another doorway, into a shambling horde of the restless dead!

I weep with joy to inform you of the daring and dynamic way in which our heroes burst through the door, and swiftly dispatch numerous shambling corpses before they had even had time to lift a decaying limb! Glorien, for once able put arrow to bow with some efficacy, slaying two zombies; Mikal, coolly stepping forward to curse and blast a corpse into oblivion before strategically (some might say cowardly), returning to the shadows.

Merry and Jonn, eager to match the efforts of their comrades, rush forward and dispatch yet more of the walking dead. Unfortunately though, this is but a mere prelude, and the two (yes, once again…) find themselves surrounded.

Naivara, our newest recruit, steps forward with ethereal grace and stabs crackling bolt of magic towards another of the undead…
…no shambling minion, this one. As the magical missile strikes, it breifly illuminates a malevolent visage – glowing green eyes narrow, and with a spiteful hiss, the Ghoul leaps to the attack, bounding in with unnatural agility and guile.

As if this were some form of command, suddenly our hapless heroes find themselves beset from all sides! Ghouls leap in to the attack, striking with stunning ferocity. First Merry, then Glorien find themselves at the mercy of the painful claws and teeth of the evil beings.

But in all this, where is our tame paladin? Surely this is his element, fighting the cursed undead?
Ah, there he is… calling upon the power of mighty Pelor to bless his blade – and if ever a blade needed blessing!
This done, Joreb steels himself, and with a cry to Pelor, marches into the melee! With poise and righteous fury, he swings his blessed blade in a glittering arc at a ghoul attempting to gnaw at Glorien..!

A ghoul who, at the very last moment, skitters deftly aside, avoiding what would surely have been a telling blow!
Joreb, aghast at his failure to perform at a critical juncture can do little but watch as the rest of the party does what it must to survive.

Yet more of the ghoul’s fellows join him in the attack, and Glorien is forced to yeild under their onslaught, but maintains his composure (and more importantly, his accuracy.) Merry and Jonn, back to back again, bravely withstand the hordes assailing them, but are ill-prepared for a new threat. From the shadows in the farthest corner of the room appears a perplexing phenomenon – a statue of some kind, appearing to be made of clay, floating some inches above the flagstones!
There is little time to investigate however, and Jonn soon bears witness to this constructs abilities – a mental blast that sends him staggering.

On the other side of the room, Glorien is left stunned and helpless under the claws of the ferocious ghouls. Naivara steps forth, her robes already billowing out as arcane energies fill her lithe form. As the eldritch tempest reaches a crescendo, the enchantress reaches out a hand, and directs the energy through a prismatic orb in her hand – brilliant, blinding flashes of coloured energy stab out at the zombie minions, extinguishing them in violent explosions of decaying matter.

Now with some room to move, Joreb finally dispels his early failure, and wades into the thick of things, righeously smiting the ghouls when they come into range of his blade. Glorien remains helpless under the stunning attacks of the Ghouls, depite Jorebs efforts.
Mikal, stymied by the adroit reflexes of the ghouls, changes his tactics – using his fey abilities, he slips around behind the hordes, and assails the Clay construct.

Jonn and Merry, despite some near misses, are still upright (though barely), and finally depleting the horde before them.
The construct finally shatters into so much broken pottery under the dual magical assault of Mikal and Naivara, with Glorien adding a helping hand, despite his transfixed state.
Joreb, still making up for his embarrasing entrance, is able to finally come to the aid of Merry and Jonn, just in time for the last of the undead to meet its final (final) rest…

And with that, our heroes are able to breath a sigh of relief, clean their weapons, and take stock. Clearly they drew ever closer to the penultimate encounter. What can lay before them?
Stay with us, dear readers! Glorien..sorry.. GLORY, awaits!

Treasure: 176 GP, Bag of Holding.
XP: 1431@238.5 each

Jonn Redgar , Joreb Innitu , Glorien Ethalron , Merry Merric , Mikal Hanre, Balasar Torrin
Writeup: lolvenom

The brawl continued unabated, Hobgoblin and Human, Elf and Halfling, carnage abound on every side. Well aimed blows caused injuries to both parties before a deafening roar interrupted proceedings, weapons were momentarily stayed until the source of the noise could be ascertained. It didn’t take long to make itself clear; the hulking form of Balasar Torrin came charging down the corridor from the north, crashing into the nearest Hobgoblin warrior. The sight of the Dragonborn revived the spirits of the party and finally the tide was turned. Joreb and Jonn landed devastating blows, Glorien finally hit something, whilst Merry and Mikal both did their best to avoid engagement by running away.

Eventually the game was up for the Hobgoblins. Merry, seeing the fight was over, lept onto the table to stab the final weakened and surrounded beast in the back. Everyone paused momentarily in the silence that followed; breath was catught and weapons wiped of blood and ichor. The party then seperated in order to explore the surrounding rooms. Four bottles of red wine were found in the crates in the main room, whilst in the Warlocks quarters a chest was found to contain a stash of gold, a shortsword which looked decidedly magical, and a number of leather bound books.

After pocketing the finds and taking a rest, the party decided it was time to resume its exploration of the dungeon. Mikal however, was captivated by some of the volumes found, and promised to catch up to the rest of the explorers shortly. Now a member short the party proceded back to the previously unexplored corridor to the west, exporing down to a set of south facing double doors.

Given the blunders of previous hours it was felt that some stealth might not go amiss. A sensitive Elven ear was put to the doors to see if any noises could be heard. A small, feminie Halfling half checked the lock to ensure it was open. Having found out nothing more from their fumbling, the party assumed the position and pushed the doors open. The doors opened into pitch blackness. Even in the time it took Glorien to retrieve his sun rod from his pack the sheer space of the room could be felt. Once light was struck, the room was revealed to be just as large as it had seemed, spanning tens of meters into the air and easily twice that in diameter. However what struck the party most was not the cavernous size of the room but its contents.

In the middle stood a stone statue of a knight many times the size of a man. His pose spoke of a brave and wily fellow, honourable and loyal. Joreb, Jonn and Balasar stepped forward, eyes raised skyward to observe the glory of the statue infront of them. Without warning the heavy doors slammed shut behind them with a bang, narrowly missing Glorien and trapping Merry out in the corridor where he had tarried. A sense of alarm began to settle over the group, now minus two of their members, trapped in an uncertain situation. Joreb stepped forward to examin the statue up close when suddenly its solid looking arm articulated and swung around in an arc with blazing speed, catching him hard on the upper body and throwing him to the floor.

Wary now, Balasar advanced around the side of the statue to the east towards a smaller statue of a dragon. As he approached the statue blasted out a ball of energy, throwing the Dragonbord from his feet and into the reach of the knights blade. Glorien’s rushed to the back of the daises, where his sharp eyes had picked up the outline of a panel. Prying it open he found the mechanism that allowed the freedom of movement for the otherwise inanimate statue; however the complexity of it baffled any attempts to disable further movement. The party backed away briefly to assess the situation, whilst Jonn and Merry tried in turn to open the door.

To the far south of the room the party spotted seveal smaller statues, resembling cherubs with amphora raised above their heads, nestled back into an alcove. Balasar and Jonn began to work their way cautiously round the western side of the knight, keeping out of its range of motion. Meanwhile Glorien took a more pragmatic approach to the danger it posed and began peppering it with arrows. Balasar finally got close enough to the nearest cherub, and unable to discern a purpose for it, decided the best course of action was to smash it to bits with a mighty blow of his mace.

As this happened, Merry finally managed to slip the bolt holding the heavy doors closed and finally joined the rest of the party in the main chamber. Incensed at what he saw, and at having missed most of the action, he sped across the floor and lept onto the back of the knight, clambering high onto its shoulders to avoid the swinging of its arms. He plunged his dagger into the narrow gaps between plates of armour several times before the statue ground to a halt; apparently too damaged to continue its swing.

The party was all but ready to breathe a sigh of relief until Jonn unwittingly triggered the final trap by stepping across the threshold into the alcove. With a crackle of energy a forcefield appeared behind him, ensuring he was trapped and alone, whilst the innocent looking statues tipped their amphora over. Out gushed a continual torrent of water which began rapidly pooling around his feet. Taking his inspiration from Balasars earlier action, and under pressure to avoid a fate worse than death (that of being an even worse swimmer than Joreb), he took to each of the statues in turn with his hammer. Several heavy blows later, with the water around his knees, the final cherubic face was reduced to rubble. With a pop of inrushing air and outrushing water, the forcefield dissappeared and the party was again reunited.

XP = 1126/6 = 187.6xp each
XP part b = 500/5 = 100xp each
Treasure = 380gp, 4 bottles of red wine, magic weapon (+1 vicious shortsword @520gp)

PCs present: Jonn Redgar , Joreb Innitu , Glorien Ethalron , Mikal Hanre , Merry Merric
Writeup: Luohghcra

Greetings, fellow lovers of adventure! Prepare yourselves for another retelling of the hapless wanderings of our intrepid band. There shall be murder and mayhem aplenty, and possibly even the buckling of a swash or two…

We rejoin our heroes mere moments after they had kicked yet another hornets nest of the hobgoblin kind. Do they this a-purpose, or is it yet more evidence of careless wandering? Time will tell.

This time, the usual festering horde of minions and soldiers was joined by a dabbler in the arcane. A hobgoblin warcaster it was, steeped in the filthy secrets of the darker side of the arcane-coin. Swiftly he made his presence known; levelling a staff of power, and snarling a cantrip, he let loose with a crackling bolt, which staggered the stalwart Jonn. The remainder of the ragged lot (by this I mean the hobgoblins, children, and not our heroes – though I must admit, the distinction is fine..), bouyed by this display of might, surged forward in a motley tide, hacking and screaming in their foul gibberish. Merry was next to feel the brunt of the attack, and only his sneaking, ill-bred talents and agility kept him in the fight.

The party was ill-set, and with Glorien apparently falling afoul of the vagaries of fate (that whimsical puppet-mistress), it fell to the noble Joreb once again. Drawing himself even more uptight…ah, upright, that is… he thunderingly shouted a Name of Might! As one, the ragtag horde visibly shuddered, and as the shockwaves dissipated, many of the grunting hobgoblins fell to the floor, cranial orifices bleeding!
Not content with this display, Joreb proceeded to come to the aid of Jonn, hefting him to his feet, and sending a wave of healing through his still-tingling frame. Back to back now, the two set about them, hacking and hammering at the filthy foe.

The remainder of the party finally found their feet, and started to dismantle the hobgoblins with almost casual ease. Even Merry took a moment to stop ducking flailing flails, typically just in time to put a dagger in the back of the warcaster, who had stumbled backwards under a ringing blow from Jonn Redgar.

Without leadership, the rest of the horde quickly crumbled, like so many soggy cookies. Before they could appreciate a good simile, however, the party was off, looking for more foes to fight!

Were they in for an interesting time…

Advancing stealthily now, our band of merry men nevertheless manage to stumble into yet another den of Hobgoblins. This lot appeared more than ready for them; one of the filthy humanoids – better armed and armoured than his fellows, but possibly even smellier – stepped towards the party and called for his fellows to attempt to capture our intrepid heroes!

After getting over their shock that the Warchief could speak a civilised language, our lads piled in. Things started to look dire from the off, however, with Glorien still unable to put an arrow to good use. Worse was to come. Even though the warchief was swiftly beset, and soon bleeding from numerous wounds, his calls had brought reinforcements.

Merry was once again found to have advanced too swiftly and was soon surrounded. Jonn did his best to come to his diminutive companions aid, but it fell to Mikal, that darkly silent member of the party. Stepping from a cloud of fey mist, he unleashed a maelstrom of energy, which caught numerous foes in its eldritch wake – but also Merry! Staggering back, and almost faltering, it fell to Jonn to once again make an heroic rescue, dodging the blows of the horde and standing over the fallen form of the halfling.

Mikal, meanwhile, had left as callously and mysteriously as he had appeared, attempting to blast the Warchief in the back with arcane energy. So intent was he, however, that he didn’t notice yet more grunting hobgoblins creeping forward to surround him, and he soon had no time for the warchief…

As Jonn helped Merry back to his feet, Joreb struck another foe down, but still they seemed to come on. A dull roar seemed to echo from a distance, the clang of steel was almost drowned out by the nigh-exhausted panting of both parties, and STILL they seemed to come on!

Will our heroes survive this latest encounter?
Stay tuned, dear readers, stay tuned…

PCs present: Jonn Redgar , Joreb Innitu , Glorien Ethalron , Mikal Hanre , Merry Merric
Writeup: lolvenom

Having rested over night under Lord Padrigs care in Winterhaven, a diminished party retraced its steps towards the keep atop the hill. Merry had been left behind to nurse a hangover that felt like it had been bestowed upon him by the Asmodeus himself. The party crept carefully through the gates, down the stairs to the first level. Their caution turned out to be unfounded as it was as deserted as they had left it. A few lingering moments were spent at the top of the stairs down to level two before descending into the unknown.

The scene that greeted the party at the bottom of the stairwell was not what they expected. The stairwell had lead them into a large square room with a deep pit in the center, two hobgolblin guards standing infront of it. Two more Hobgoblins were positioned near the entrance to a hallway behind them, talking distractedly in their gutteral dialect. The two nearest the well snapped to attention at the arrival of the party, eyeing them with mistrust. The left most Hobgoblin took a half step forward, snarling out a comment in Common. Joreb replied in turn, answering their mistrustful stares with the pass phrase they required and eloquent explanation their purpose in the dungeon. Eventually one of the pair departed to confirm details of the yarn that had been strung.

After a few minutes had passed the party tired of the charade and, convinced that all would not end well, decided that words would not be enough to win the day alone. With a cry weapons were drawn and they barreled into the room, cutting down the first startled Hobgoblin before he could reciprocate. Alerted to the commotion, a door to the left of the party crashed open and admitted several more beasts. In the midst of the fray Glorien noticed several Hobgoblins making for the passageway towards the rear of the room, intent on unchaining some iron bars, behind which he could make out the hulking form of a giant spider. With slow yet impeccable accuracy he pincushioned one after another, until even his great talent couldn’t quell the weight of numbers and finally the lock was sprung.

With a deft movement the spider lept forward, seeking to sink its fangs into any member of the party rash enough to get close. Some quick action by the adventurers deflected its attention until they could deploy their decoy, Merry, who’s bleary eye’d enterance caused a commotion. However, even in his disoriented state, he managed to avoid the angry fangs, using his speed to unbalance the spider and push it into the well.

The fight up top continued with relentless intensity, Hobgoblin corpses forming a thick carpet across the stone floor. Before Merry could join the clean up he was met with the uncomfortable sight of his nemesis, the spider, using its mighty legs to propel itself back out of the hole and into his path. With his companions still occupied by the Hobgoblins and unable to come to his aid, he was ravaged relentlessly until he collapsed to the floor.

Seeing the sight of his fallen companion, Jonn roared in dismay and leapt forward to lay a healing hand on Merry’s small shoulder. With a last thrust of his dagger, Marry put paid to any further thoughts the spider might have of harming him, jamming it hard into the glistening cluster of eyes. As one the fighting across the floor subsided. Wounds and egos were attended to and the area was searched, revealing a smattering of coins.

Once done, they set off further into the darkness, searching once again for Kal Arel(?). They followed the corridors through several twists and turns until encountering a set of doors. The party gathered in formation, and with a gentle shove, opened to the sight of another Hobgoblin. For a breathless moment looks were exchanged before a shrill shreik eminated from the monsters mouth…

“We’re under attack!”

XP = 1091/5 = 218.2xp each
Treasure = 10gp 27sp