Eberron Adventure: Session Forty-Nine

So there they were…

…Flying towards the Mournland; the dead, devastated land formerly known as the great artisan nation of Cyre.

The magnificent Captain Rhogar was at the helm since dawn; longcoat over his armor and a tricorn hat atop his black scaled head. The lizardman looked every bit a captain… though his fear of heights continued to peek through. At the helm, his jaws were clenched, and could only give the briefest of answers.

The lizardman was curtly answering all the piloting and navigation questions of Ruth, recent competitor in the Race of the Eight Winds, former lover to former party member Shadowale, and roguish niece to the aged archmage and friend of the party known as Winnefred.

A quartet of yet-to-be-officially-named, red-shirted goblins from the Cogs scrambled about checking things throughout the airship, assisted from time to time by the tinkering kobold manservant known as Kaz. A dwarf named Montgomery Dwarf and Kaz worked in the engineering room below deck, keeping an eye on the intricate workings of this experimental, fire-powered airship. Lastly, the warforged known as Chef was preparing a pleasant traveler’s lunch of scrumptious, meaty kebabs and flat bread for the PCs.

The tiefling sorceress Comfort, the half-orc barbarian Ula, the dwarf cleric Francis, the human wizard Kylar, the human monk Turnin, and the gnome barbarian Gnofulk all lunched after a blessing of sorts from the cleric.

The ate as leisurely as the ship moved. Referred to as the Burning Inquiry by its builders by never actually christened, an intrepid gnome had painted over the name in the night, dubbing the airship The Jackalope’s Folly.

The party ate and drank and discussed a small detour desired by Kylar, back towards a shadow-themed community from very early on in their adventures. The wizard brought the rest of the party up to speed on their little adventure with this reclusive community…

The short of it, was that a group of people were terrified by the world around them. The devastating Mourning event was particularly unsettling, and they banded together near a long-forgotten tower. A shadow demon had made a secret pact with the group’s leaders; protection and safety, in exchange for their shadows. A magical bargain. The party had snuck in, killed the leaders, and fought the shadow demon, setting fire to the tower in the process, as he was hard to see.

As it turned out, the accidental cultists were actually pretty relieved to be free of the pact, and after putting out the fire and shattering a magic crystal, they got their shadows back, though many members of the community – Shades – had gained/retained the ability to warp shadows around them. Kylar had given the fledgling community mundane weapons scrounged from their earlier adventures, and they had all parted ways pleasantly. It had been a year or so (time is hard to track for an adventurer), and the wizard was wondering how the group was getting along.

Soon, the ship paused at the edge of the forest; the community was only a few miles away. For better or for worse, the airship could get no closer without igniting the canopy; it could only hover a maximum of few hundred feet above the ground, not nearly high enough to get over the forest and get closer. It was time for the party to disembark.

Turnin used his staff catapulted himself off the side of the shup, using his monk skills to land safely. Comfort also jumped off, casting Feather Fall to slow her descent. Gnofulk had harnessed Nutasha, and the flying squirrel sprung off, gliding into the forest. Ula had donned a pair of the “wingies” from one of the numerous railing compartments, and was also floating down towards the ground, massive tower shield at her back.

Kylar and Francis look upon their showboaty companions, unlatch a skiff, and fly down to join their compatriots. On the ground, all but Gnofulk and Nutasha hop about the skiff, and with Francis at the tiller, begin slowly picking their way through the forest. Rhogar will keep the ship here, waiting.

It isn’t long before the party is greeted by two familiar bearded human faces – the Steve’s are waiting for them, and they brought a nice chocolate cake! They heard the party was coming, and just could wait to meet them. Ula and Francis dig into the cake with their hands, and the Steve’s chad and guide the party back to the community, and they pass a small sign, declaring the place as the Shady Tower Township.

The community has done well for itself in the last year. The forest is not particularly dense, but some trees has been felled and replaced with small farms. Travel is frequent enough that distinct paths becomes visable as the parts nears the tower, which now has a roof and looks to have been repaired. All the hovels seem to have been upgraded too, and approach what most would term as houses.

Several members of the community recognize Gnofulk, Turnin, and Kylar from before, and wave, or give simple nods or salutes as they go about their business, acknowledging their freedom as a result of the party’s actions. The group disembarks outside of the palisade, and is brought inside the wall.

Naris, greets them, his shadow still swirling around him. Previously a missionary or sorts, drawing people to the community, he now leads it as the elected mayor. He and the Steve’s invite the party to sit, drink, and finish off the cake.

The party will learn that the community has been busy. They’ve already seen the upgrades around the township, and naris will relate that they’ve been making progress reintegrating into the greater society of Breland. The world is still scary, but they’re trading with nearby towns, and the Shades – former missionaries of the cult – have been repurposed into a bit of spy network, slowly spreading throughout the continent of Khorvaire.

The township has heard all about the dramatic Race of the Eight Winds, the party’s acquisition of the experimental airship, and their departure from Sharn. They’ve also heard of warforged traveling to the Mournland, though do not know the goals of the Perpetual Legion. Still, the warforged are most adept at surviving that intolerable place; their repairs are unaffected by the magical upheavals in the region that prevents all other kinds of healing or natural processes.

Unfortunately, the spies are more concerned with the living than the dead – and have sent no agents into the Mournland. They know arguably less than the party here. Also unfortunately, the party is disinterested in anything besides information on the Mournland. They say misfortune comes in threes, and lastly, unfortunately, Turnin makes an unconvincing argument to the Steve’s to join them, so the crew loses out on two stealthy best friends and their baking and guarding skillsets.

Naris gives the party a final tour of the tower; the bottom floors for community activities and spy networking; the uppermost floor his private little room. The repairs have been great, and there is no sign of the destructive fire!

The party soon decides that it is time to leave, and after the pleasant afternoon of wine, cake, and catching up, again part on good terms with the community. The majority pile back into the skiff, while Gnofulk remounts Nutasha, climbs to the top of the tower and jumps off, gliding back into the forest.

They soon find their way back to the airship, and ascends with the skiff. With Ruth at the helm, they depart, and the party retires for the evening, save for a brief bout of insomnia from Francis, who after a few words with one of the goblin deckhands, decides sleep is definitely preferable to conversation with a goblin.

The morning comes, and the airship is gracefully traveling parallel with the lightning rail. A few trains have passed along the trip, moving far faster than the airship. In the late morning, another train zips by. From his Titanic-like perch near the front of the airship, Francis can see, that about a mile ahead, stones and rocks start battering the train; a trio of giants of some sort seem to be tossing rocks.

The cleric alerts the rest of the party, and weapons are readied. While damaged, the train has not been derailed. The party decides they don’t want to risk damaging the airship and decide at the last minute to give the giants a wider berth. When the giants do see them, rocks still fly, but fall short, and the airship continues on its way. Getting a better look at the giants as they pass, Francis thinks they are rather young hill giants, and the party congratulates themselves on not murdering children.

They continue, following the conductor stones of the lightning rail further and further east, towards the Mournland. As the afternoon wanes, they spot a massive fortification in the distance that should be no more than a tower.

As they approach, they see that the tower is there, with a bustling market surrounding it. The unexpected fortification nearby, is actually a massive, grounded airship, the elementals and presumed energy wings all encased within, protected by thick armor and numerous weapons.

A few party members have heard of these massive ships; of the half dozen or so built by Breland in the Last War, several were lost in the war. The status of several more are unknown, presumably on missions. Only the location of the Argonth is roughly known; it’s mission to patrol Breland’s boarders.

After a brief conference, the party decides this is not worth their time, and continue on. A final evening comes and goes, and at dawn, the party stands on the main deck, watching the border of the Mournland, a dense and supernatural fog, get closer and closer…

Eberron Adventure: Session Forty-Eight

So there they were…

…Flying towards the Mournland; the dead, devastated land formerly known as the great artisan nation of Cyre.

The magnificent Captain Rhogar was at the helm since dawn; longcoat over his armor and a tricorn hat atop his black scaled head. The lizardman looked every bit a captain… though his fear of heights continued to peek through. At the helm, his jaws were clenched, and could only give the briefest of answers.

The lizardman was curtly answering all the piloting and navigation questions of Ruth, recent competitor in the Race of the Eight Winds, former lover to former party member Shadowale, and roguish niece to the aged archmage and friend of the party known as Winnefred.

A quartet of yet-to-be-officially-named, red-shirted goblins from the Cogs scrambled about checking things throughout the airship, assisted from time to time by the tinkering kobold manservant known as Kaz. A dwarf named Montgomery Dwarf and Kaz worked in the engineering room below deck, keeping an eye on the intricate workings of this experimental, fire-powered airship. Lastly, the warforged known as Chef was preparing a pleasant traveler’s lunch of scrumptious, meaty kebabs and flat bread for the PCs.

The tiefling sorceress Comfort, the half-orc barbarian Ula, the dwarf cleric Francis, the human wizard Kylar, the human monk Turnin, and the gnome barbarian Gnofulk all lunched after a blessing of sorts from the cleric.

The ate as leisurely as the ship moved. Referred to as the Burning Inquiry by its builders by never actually christened, an intrepid gnome had painted over the name in the night, dubbing the airship The Jackalope’s Folly.

The party ate and drank and discussed a small detour desired by Kylar, back towards a shadow-themed community from very early on in their adventures. The wizard brought the rest of the party up to speed on their little adventure with this reclusive community…

The short of it, was that a group of people were terrified by the world around them. The devastating Mourning event was particularly unsettling, and they banded together near a long-forgotten tower. A shadow demon had made a secret pact with the group’s leaders; protection and safety, in exchange for their shadows. A magical bargain. The party had snuck in, killed the leaders, and fought the shadow demon, setting fire to the tower in the process, as he was hard to see.

As it turned out, the accidental cultists were actually pretty relieved to be free of the pact, and after putting out the fire and shattering a magic crystal, they got their shadows back, though many members of the community – Shades – had gained/retained the ability to warp shadows around them. Kylar had given the fledgling community mundane weapons scrounged from their earlier adventures, and they had all parted ways pleasantly. It had been a year or so (time is hard to track for an adventurer), and the wizard was wondering how the group was getting along.

Soon, the ship paused at the edge of the forest; the community was only a few miles away. For better or for worse, the airship could get no closer without igniting the canopy; it could only hover a maximum of few hundred feet above the ground, not nearly high enough to get over the forest and get closer. It was time for the party to disembark.

Turnin used his staff catapulted himself off the side of the shup, using his monk skills to land safely. Comfort also jumped off, casting Feather Fall to slow her descent. Gnofulk had harnessed Nutasha, and the flying squirrel sprung off, gliding into the forest. Ula had donned a pair of the “wingies” from one of the numerous railing compartments, and was also floating down towards the ground, massive tower shield at her back.

Kylar and Francis look upon their showboaty companions, unlatch a skiff, and fly down to join their compatriots. On the ground, all but Gnofulk and Nutasha hop about the skiff, and with Francis at the tiller, begin slowly picking their way through the forest. Rhogar will keep the ship here, waiting.

It isn’t long before the party is greeted by two familiar bearded human faces – the Steve’s are waiting for them, and they brought a nice chocolate cake! They heard the party was coming, and just could wait to meet them. Ula and Francis dig into the cake with their hands, and the Steve’s chad and guide the party back to the community, and they pass a small sign, declaring the place as the Shady Tower Township.

The community has done well for itself in the last year. The forest is not particularly dense, but some trees has been felled and replaced with small farms. Travel is frequent enough that distinct paths becomes visable as the parts nears the tower, which now has a roof and looks to have been repaired. All the hovels seem to have been upgraded too, and approach what most would term as houses.

Several members of the community recognize Gnofulk, Turnin, and Kylar from before, and wave, or give simple nods or salutes as they go about their business, acknowledging their freedom as a result of the party’s actions. The group disembarks outside of the palisade, and is brought inside the wall.

Naris, greets them, his shadow still swirling around him. Previously a missionary or sorts, drawing people to the community, he now leads it as the elected mayor. He and the Steve’s invite the party to sit, drink, and finish off the cake.

The party will learn that the community has been busy. They’ve already seen the upgrades around the township, and naris will relate that they’ve been making progress reintegrating into the greater society of Breland. The world is still scary, but they’re trading with nearby towns, and the Shades – former missionaries of the cult – have been repurposed into a bit of spy network, slowly spreading throughout the continent of Khorvaire.

The township has heard all about the dramatic Race of the Eight Winds, the party’s acquisition of the experimental airship, and their departure from Sharn. They’ve also heard of warforged traveling to the Mournland, though do not know the goals of the Perpetual Legion. Still, the warforged are most adept at surviving that intolerable place; their repairs are unaffected by the magical upheavals in the region that prevents all other kinds of healing or natural processes.

Unfortunately, the spies are more concerned with the living than the dead – and have sent no agents into the Mournland. They know arguably less than the party here. Also unfortunately, the party is disinterested in anything besides information on the Mournland. They say misfortune comes in threes, and lastly, unfortunately, Turnin makes an unconvincing argument to the Steve’s to join them, so the crew loses out on two stealthy best friends and their baking and guarding skillsets.

Naris gives the party a final tour of the tower; the bottom floors for community activities and spy networking; the uppermost floor his private little room. The repairs have been great, and there is no sign of the destructive fire!

The party soon decides that it is time to leave, and after the pleasant afternoon of wine, cake, and catching up, again part on good terms with the community. The majority pile back into the skiff, while Gnofulk remounts Nutasha, climbs to the top of the tower and jumps off, gliding back into the forest.

They soon find their way back to the airship, and ascends with the skiff. With Ruth at the helm, they depart, and the party retires for the evening, save for a brief bout of insomnia from Francis, who after a few words with one of the goblin deckhands, decides sleep is definitely preferable to conversation with a goblin.

The morning comes, and the airship is gracefully traveling parallel with the lightning rail. A few trains have passed along the trip, moving far faster than the airship. In the late morning, another train zips by. From his Titanic-like perch near the front of the airship, Francis can see, that about a mile ahead, stones and rocks start battering the train; a trio of giants of some sort seem to be tossing rocks.

The cleric alerts the rest of the party, and weapons are readied. While damaged, the train has not been derailed. The party decides they don’t want to risk damaging the airship and decide at the last minute to give the giants a wider berth. When the giants do see them, rocks still fly, but fall short, and the airship continues on its way. Getting a better look at the giants as they pass, Francis thinks they are rather young hill giants, and the party congratulates themselves on not murdering children.

They continue, following the conductor stones of the lightning rail further and further east, towards the Mournland. As the afternoon wanes, they spot a massive fortification in the distance that should be no more than a tower.

As they approach, they see that the tower is there, with a bustling market surrounding it. The unexpected fortification nearby, is actually a massive, grounded airship, the elementals and presumed energy wings all encased within, protected by thick armor and numerous weapons.

A few party members have heard of these massive ships; of the half dozen or so built by Breland in the Last War, several were lost in the war. The status of several more are unknown, presumably on missions. Only the location of the Argonth is roughly known; it’s mission to patrol Breland’s boarders.

After a brief conference, the party decides this is not worth their time, and continue on. A final evening comes and goes, and at dawn, the party stands on the main deck, watching the border of the Mournland, a dense and supernatural fog, get closer and closer…

Eberron Adventure: Session Forty-Seven

So there most of them were…

….gabbing away with a few new members.

Since the dramatic conclusion of Race of the Eight Winds, in which Gnofulk technically won while the Daask stole an experimental airship, rampaged through Sharn, and were ultimately stopped by the rest of the party, a few months had passed.

The gnome barbarian (now barbarian/ranger) and race-winner Gnofulk had won a heap of gold, and had left the ceremonial magic Rod of the Eight Winds in the care of Zeke, the aldergoblin of the Cogs and friend of the gnome. The gnome also left the posh apartment won in the race to the goblin, and their mutual friend, the Orc Rhaaal. The gnome had also sweet-talked the wizard Winnifred into letting him keep his mount from the race, a flying squirrel named Nutasha, and was working hard to become a Beastmaster.

The tiefling sorceress and madam Comfort, had decided that her excursions with the party around Sharn had been so much fun, that she’d join them on their Mournland expedition. Arrangements were made for Bathomet’s Bath House to be run by comfort’s number 2; a gnome by the name of Robyn while the madam was out adventuring. The tiefling had traded in the elegant dresses of Sharn, for more appropriate adventure-wear.

The human wizard Kylar had also streamlined his wardrobe; exchanging cumbersome robes for adventuring tunics. In the time since the race’s conclusion, he had hit the books, and as an initiate, had scribed over a lot of lower magic spells from the Guild of Starlight and Shadows into his spellbook. The kobold manservant Kaz had been hard at work arranging his small artificer workshop on the airship,

The human monk Turnin had also been hitting the books; taking classes at fantasy night school with

House Kundarak, trying to get an accounting degree in order to better manage the party finances.

The Halfling rogue Shadowale had left the party. Wary of reprisals from any leftovers of the Sharn cell of House Tarkanan, the Halfling had convinced the party to fake his death, and the rogue absconded away to start a brewery and artesian delicatessen.

In addition to the old crew, two new people had signed up for the Mournland expedition.

The first was a pious dwarf named Francis, cleric of the Silver Flame. The dwarf was aware of the party’s run-in with Steve Carlsberg von Brighthammer Jr, and the general zealotry of many of the followers of the Silver Flame. His dissent in these matters led his superiors to push him towards adventuring, and the aged elf Blume nudged him in the direction of the party.

The second was a half-orc barbarian names Ula, who had found herself the recipient of a few rounds celebrating Gnofulk’s win, and was herself found napping in one of the skiffs acquired by the party for use with their airship. Considering it all sorts of fate, the half-orc decided to join up, lending the party another strong arm and a massive magical tower shield, with the face of a demon.

The experimental airship had ended up in possession of the party. Airships are usually powered by air elementals, and are strictly run by House Lyrandar. However, this experimental airship, powered by a fiery elemental, was built with the help of House Orien. Found to be encroaching on the ___ of another House, both agreed to turn the ship over to the party (they saved it after all). Adventures aren’t known for their gentle use of items… perhaps House Lyrandar thinks this slight will solve itself?

Since the Race of the Eight Winds, the party had worked to repair and improve the airship, the Burning Inquiry to their desired specifications. A magical cannon had been mounted in the bow; two small skiffs had been acquired (one came with a bonus Ula); a lightning cannon had been mounted beneath the ship (and charged); and numerous Wingies of Freefall had been stowed along the railings to ease descent if needed.

The dragonborn battlemaster Rhogar (now an NPC), had spent the time with the Clifftop Adventurer’s Guild and House Orien, learning the ins and outs of the experimental airship, and a small crew to help man the ship:

• Kaz, Kylar’s kobold manservant, tinkerer.
• Montgomery Punchitfixit – engineer and a member of the Clifftop Adventurer’s Guild
• Chef, the rotund warforged uh.. chef.
• Ruth, co-racer in the Race of the Eight Winds, former one-time lover to Shadowale, and niece to the powerful wizard and friend-to-the-party Winnifred, as a pilot for the airship.
• Four goblins from the Cogs, to serves as deckhands.

The party had been busy!

Comfort, Gnofulk, Ula, Kylar, and Francis were all enjoying their last rounds in Ghallanda Hall. Their longstanding tab had been settled, and final favors called in. The plan was to drink, retire to their moored airship, and then depart in the morning after a final check. One drink lacked a person though; Turnin the monk was absent.

Halfway through the round, the monk arrived. Comfort had noticed the monk’s absence of late, and Turnin fessed up to studying. First he focused inward, and learned how to run on walls. Then he had started studying accounting. Numbers weren’t big at the monastery where he grew up, and he really wanted to do a good job of handling the party finances. The monk had taken some night classes, and had recently taken an exam.

Turnin told the group that he had passed with flying colors – but then immediately fessed up to the fib. He had failed, but just barely. He could get some extra credit and pass though, if the party helped him.

House Kundarak handles virtually all banking in the civilized continent of Khorvaire, with magically-connected vaults scattered throughout the major cities, including Sharn. To access a local vault, two keys are needed, and recently, Sharn’s vault had a key stolen.

This isn’t a grave concern for the House (the thief would still need the second key to access anything); and they could reforge/rekey the compromised vault, but that would be a headache. Turnin’s professor offers to pass the monk if he can save the House some trouble, and recover the key by 11:59 tonight, when grades are due.

Turnin had agreed, and had rushed off to enlist the party.

The cleric Francis immediately took up a liking to the monk, and pledged to help “Angel Wings” in his endeavor to pass his fantasy night school class.

Turnin sat down, and related what the professor had told him about the robbery. Everyone got a good look at the leader of the heist, a rougish, baby-faced gnome known as “Junior,” who is rumored to be in line to inherit the operations of a well-established crime company in Sharn known as the Burning Hands Band, dabbling in much, but specializing mainly in “protection services.”

The minds of the party are set ablaze. They’ve spent considerable time in Sharn, and each has something to contribute. (Except for Francis; due to poor DMing. Had I been on the ball, Francis should have made a check to possibly reveal that the Twins were known as being fiend-aligned warlocks. My bad.)

In her time running the bath house, Comfort has sussed out a lot of information. While she has never used them herself, she knows the Burning Hands Band run an establishment near Sharn’s literal, physical black market, which is known as the Twilight Shoppe. She also knows the current leaders of the band; a dwarf duo (Bazlor the Stout and Nazra the Wrathful) known as the Twins.

Ula has had some bar brawls with members of the Band, and knows that they are generally dumber, stronger brutes. She doesn’t know the exact location of their headquarters, but has heard that it is very low in Sharn; where the foundations of the mighty towers meet the hobgoblin ruins and the Cogs in the most ancient parts of the city.

Kylar has picked up a few special reagents in the Twilight Shoppe, and knows the Burning Hands Band is based near the outskirts of the black market. The market is dangerous; everyone is shady and everyone is armed, and an unspoken rule of visiting is to keep it brief.

Gnofulk eyes his drink as the party talks, and recalls a few drunken excursions with his orc buddy Rhaaal. They drunkenly left the Cogs, and found themselves in a few gladiatorial bouts run by the Burning Hands Band. Gnofulk is juuust drunk enough to remember the path he took.

As each party member relates their information, a plan begins to form, and eventually the party decides to go with the path of the drunkard. Turnin’s drink is untouched, and the gnome downs it to try and hit that sweet spot with his memory…

The strong quintet departs Ghallanda Hall, and begins the track to the Cogs. They work their way between and through Sharn’s innumerable imposing stone towers, winding down and down, eventually trekking past the foundations of the towers and into the hot caverns known as the Cogs; home to Sharn’s major iron works, foundaries, and a large population of “undesirable” races like goblins, orcs and the like.

The party reaches the area they know so well; the main residential neighborhood of the Cogs, nestled between two foundries and in the proverbial shadow of the lava damn that helps channel the molten power. They’ve found secrets here; sampled soup; allegedly suplexed a paladin, glittering gear and all, into lava. Through his deeds Gnofulk had come to be renowned as a local hero; by winning the Race of the Eight Winds he was exalted as a champion for them.

Unfortunately, the path of the drunkard leads away from the Cogsfolk. The handful of locals that do see them pass do not hesitate to let out a whoop and cheers of encouragement, but quickly the gnome is out of sight, leading the way through the connected caverns down here in the Cogs, avoiding the soft red glow rising from lava fissures and small molten pools.

Major dangers (open lava pits, fissures) are easily avoided as Gnofulk leads the hot caverns. After taking a turn, something catches the gnome’s eye, and he realizes that the heat shimmers in this particular cavern are actually lava snakes! Their nest threatened, they start to slighter towards the party…

…but Gnofulk points them out and the party hurries on, leaving the slithering threats behind them. A quick turn, and the party finds themselves in a large cavern, several stories high and probably over 300 feet in diameter. In every major nook, rocky debris is packed; supporting the foundations of Sharn’s massive towers above ground.

The cavern is a bizarre mismatch of architecture. Some areas look completely natural; in other areas, distinct hard geometries can be seen poking out, and the ceiling looks to be supported by stone arches in places. A stone bridge spans a long fissure on the floor of the cavern, connecting a the paths to few archways to the main area.

Several arched entrances can be seen around the cavern, and small groups of people are walking around. While not the hub in the foot traffic for the Cogs, this is a hub, likely leading to smaller neighborhoods and more foundries.

The most striking thing about this cavern though, is the buried ziggurat, a relic of the long deceased hobgoblin empire based here long, long before the first humans set foot here. Opposite the bridge, and off to the left of the party, the step pyramid sits. Several stories rise up, and disappear into the sloping walls and ceiling of the cavern. The ziggurat is obscured enough, that the party isn’t sure just how wide this buried ruin even is, or how high it might go.

Gnofulk nods towards the ruin. He remembers passing it while drunk with Rhaaal, and thinks he took the archway nearest to it to get to the fights hosted by the Burning Hands Band. The party passes a handful of other travelers, and as they approach the ziggurat, they notice a small portcullis blocking the only visible entrance to the step-pyramid, and two well-armed orcs standing guard. Gnofulk’s eagle eyes notice stylized flames on the backs of each orc’s hands… this is likely an entrance to the Band’s base.

The party briefly confers. They aren’t looking for a fight… but need to be speedy about this. Should they maybe check out the black market, so see if that would be easier to infiltrate?

Comfort decides no. With an air of superiority, she approaches the portcullis and guards with purpose, towing the rest of the party along.

The tiefling insists that she has an appointment with Junior, and while that may be, she isn’t nearly convincing enough to enter this way. No one comes in this way for an appointment. The orcs gesture to the nearby archway (about 60 feet away), and tell the tiefling to take those stairs up and enter that way – like normal people with appointments do.

In a huff, the tiefling spins purposefully on her heal, taking Gnofulk, Francis and Ula with her.

Inexplicably, Turn and Kylar remain, standing by the gate and the orcs, investigating. Turnin makes small talk, which in turn makes the guards uncomfortable, while Kylar looks around. Beyond the gate is a 10’ hallway, which intersects another hallway inside the ziggurat. There is a lever in the wall…

As Comfort and the cohort beckon the monk and wizard to join them, Kylar decides to act, but his timing is off. First he points, shouting for the guards to look over at the lava monster over there, and then he conjures the menacing illusion. “Angel Wings” lets go a full-bodied womanly battle cry, and charges the illusion, swinging wildly as he advances. Kylar decides to Mage Hand the lever, and the portcullis begins to recede.

The guards ready their weapons, and demand the wizard steps back; something is obviously wrong here. The situation is deteriorating rapidly. Kylar conjures an illusion of the still-closed portcullis, and for his lack trick, he benignly transpositions himself with the monk.

From 60 feet away, at the archway leading up to the entrance folks normally use for meetings.. Comfort and the rest of the party hear the kerfuffle. Trying not to spill blood today, Comfort turns, jogging back towards the gate and imploring everyone to calm down.

Even she knows she’s not being convincing.

She decides to twin a Witch Bolt and flying the magic at the orcs.

The tiefling misses.

Technically, no one has been injured yet, but the situation is beyond the hope of a peaceful resolution. The wizard is being tricksy; the sorceress flinging magic around; and the monk is acting just plain weird, running full tilt at obvious illusions. The orcs are simple-minded guards with simple instructions: keep people out. While the portcullis looks secure behind them, they can still hear it moving, and slash at the monk, each one landing a blow against him while yelling inside for someone named Kang to alert everyone of this attack.

Kyllar tries to throw his voice and pretend to be Kang… but Kang is not an orc, and the wizard is not too convincing in this bluff.

Turnin rebuttals. His cool staff hits the orc to his left, slowing it, and he continues on with a flurry of blows, dealing about half of what was done to him. He sweeps the leg, knocking the orc prone, and then pivots to punch the second orc. The monks hand connects, but smarts. He hit the hurty metal bit on the orc’s pauldron, and it was super ineffective.

Seeing the exchange, Ula decides she needs to get into the thick of things, and use that big protective tower shield of hers. She dashes over, past Comfort and onto Turnin, standing over the prone orc, menacingly.

Gnofulk grabs his sling and loads it with the special fear-causing whistling ammo he got from Felmore’s Emporium. The gnome starts jogging over, spinning the sling, and launches it when he gets about even with Comfort. The vile bullet whistles… but misses.

Francis is the last to join in the scuffle, and he turns, casting Shield of Faith on his buddy “Angel Wings”, aiding in the monk’s defense, then casts Sacred Flame on the prone orc. Blinding light coalesces near the top of the cavern, and then streaks down, blasting the orc.

Ula, Turnin and Kylar see a quartet of hobgoblins scurry into view at the end of the hallyway near the lever. One, presumably Kang, calls out the three party members he can see (Ula, Turnin and Kylar), and shoves one of his compatriots off down the hall to the left with instructions to tell the Twins. Confused by the situation (portcullis sounds; lowered portcullis; scuffle “outside”, the remaining trio post up in the end of the hall, watching events unfold.

From afar, Kylar casts Haste on Turnin. The monk is getting all sorts of support today! Comfort casts and misses another Witch Bolt, but fortunately the spell doesn’t hit any of her companions.

The prone orc stands up, and seeing Ula before him, swings in anger at the half breed. The second orc hits Turnin again.

Boosted in ways the monk had never even conceived of, he opts to be absolutely brazen. Reinforced by the arrival of the rest of the party, he decides to try and chase down that hobgoblin. The monk expertly disengages from the orcs, and sprints down the wall of the hallway, flipping over the heads of the trio of surprised hobgoblins, and easily chasing down the fourth. Turnin swings strongly with his cool staff, and knocks out the poor guy with one strike.

The monk doesn’t stop there though, and ends up juggling the limp body with a series of kicks and punches. The monk is just too powerful I guess! After this flurry, the hobgoblin hits the ground, and plops against a door.

The weight of the halfing presses against the door… and it swings open. The monk sees two dwarves standing on either side of and shouting at a baby-faced gnome, rhetorically asking him if he thought the Band needed this kind of heat brought down on them.

With the door swinging open, everyone locks eyes with everyone else.

Still blessed and buffed, the monk impulsively rushes in, overhand smashes the gnome on the noggin, and then stuns him with a series of debilitating punches. Turnin grapples and headlocks the gnome, his little feet swinging and dangling in the air. The monk cautiously backs up with his new hostage.

The dwarf duo is flummoxed. The male is in armor, weaponless for now, but his hands are ready. The female holds a staff, and she demands to know what is going on.

Still hasted, the monk talks fast. Turnin threatens the gnome, but the crime lords are unmoved. Turnin demands the key – wherever it is and uh… whatever it may look like – and the duo acquiesce with a condition, gesturing to a large key on the long table nearby.

Turnin snags the comically large key with his staff, and slides it down towards his grip while Nazra explains. Junior was a moron, acting out of turn and stealing only one of the two required keys no less. This was his idea, not theirs. The Twin’s condition of letting Turnin take and return this vault key, is that the monk convinces the House that this was not a legit act of the Band, and that they get to deal with Junior.

The monk agrees, edging towards the door, and dropping the gnome at the room’s threshold. The dwarves follow him out, gingerly stepping over the unconscious hobgoblin, and calling for an end to the hostilities.

Slowly, everyone stands down, and amazingly, no one has died. Turnin keeps backing up until he reaches the rest of the party, key in hand. The Twins keep advancing, gaining the trio of hobgoblins, and walking all the way to the gate, regarding each member of the party in turn.

Nazra reiterates the condition of giving the monk the key, and replies that they can absolutely trust the word of this monk… Alan Greenspan. Yessir, there was never a monk more honest that Alan Greenspan here. This wonderful and trustworthy Alan Greenspan will tell House Kundarak about this whole mess and square it all right up…

The Twins tentatively thank Alan Greenspan, and cautiously watch the party pack up and retreat from the ziggurat.

Turnin and the party hurry back to fantasy night school and to the monks’ professor, and with a few minutes to spare, he returns the vault key and is passed. As a perk of passing, the House had agreed to issue a small proprietary safe to the newly certified accountant; in this particular case, a magical piggy bank with adjustable coin deposit aperture, allowing for easy access to the pocket dimension within. Additionally, it has a few magical security features too… so it should serve the monk well in the days and years to come.

Very surprisingly, all worked out well for the monk tonight! The party eventually retire to the airship and their new berths, intent on departing Sharn in the morning as planned. As previously decided, the party will follow the lightning rail line, and take the same route their quarry – the warforged group known as the perpetual Legion – took into the dangerous Mournland…