Eberron Adventure: Twenty-Fourth Session

So there they were, resting briefly in the charred remains of the Daask bunk room, deep below Sharn, exploring a network of secret tunnels near the Cogs: Kyllar the human wizard and his kobold manservant Kaz, Gnofulk the gnome barbarian, Shadowale the halfling rogue, Rhogar the dragonborn fighter, and Turnin the human monk, now sporting a very academic-looking bandana, which keeps slipping down to cover one of his eyes. No, not that eye. His other one.

A little over an hour passes without incident or interruption and resting in the dark, the party regains a little of their strength and courage, but soon, a distant cacophonous sound like rolling thunder breaks their calm respite; the rumbling reverberating down the corridor. After a brief pause, another, closer rumble is heard, and then another, the third being very close indeed.

Turnin’s keen ears let him know that the sounds are not from an animal, and were three distinct events. As the party rearms themselves, Kyllar, every-wary of physical harm, cracks open the door out of the charred bunk room, and releases his familiar down the tunnel, while Shadowale and Gnofulk exit to stalk the hallways as well.

The familiar and the two shortest members of the party soon discover that the corridor has collapsed; dust motes float through the air, and masonry is broken around the edge of the collapse. A pile of dirt and rubble blocks the path ahead. As the familiar returns to Kyllar, the halfling Shadowale kicks at the rubble – ignoring the possibility of further caving in the corridor.

Fortunately, the tunnel collapse was an illusion, and Shadowale’s foot passes through harmlessly. The short, deadly duo are surprised by but a moment, and immediately charge through the conjuration, with Shadowale passing through and coming face to face with a small, very surprised satyr; his furry face quickly passing from scrunched concentration to surprise to utter terror to inert lolling slack as the halfling and his new, poisoned blades gleefully eviscerated the satyr, staining the furry beast’s tiny robes with blood as Gnofulk looked on. The satyr expired before the gnome could swing.

The rest of the party arrived, with Rhogar and Kaz the kobold guiding the two humans through the dark. Shadowale proudly and confidently announces to Turnin that the halfling just slew, like, a legit army Daask. Unable to see in the dark, the monk absolutely believes his fellow party member. Shadowale boastfully suggests that he could probably handle everything all on his own, and might not even need the rest of the party, particularly “can’t-even-see-in-the-dark-Turnin.” The boast is delivered with a little wavering in the voice however, and while Turnin knows that the halfling can’t possibly do everything with no help at all, he does start to consider whether he himself is needed. For a monk used to and looking for a community, it is an unsettling thought.

The rest of the party ignores the tormenting of monk by the rogue, and they slowly press on down the corridor, Kyllar’s owl-like familiar scouting the way for the party with its night-vision. They soon hear voices ahead, and Kyllar casts Comprehend Languages, and sends his own trotting up to peek around the corner.

In the darkness, Kyllar, via his owl familiar, sees an orc and two satyr brutes moving barrels and crates in a partially obscured room, and hears them discussing moving “the goods” and “the stash” other locations for the time being. The owl retreats.

Kyllar whispers about the three Daask he saw, and the party quickly decides to charge in for a surprise attack.

Unfortunately, Turnin is still fumbling around in the darkness. The party sets up around the final corner, and charges. A little speedier than the rest of the party, Turnin, still a human, and still blind in the dark, manages to get ahead of his peers. Hearing a surprised grunt ahead of him, he skids to a halt and lights a torch with a strike.

The room is larger than Kyllar thought; and far more populated. In addition to the three gangsters Kyllar saw, the room also has two of the smaller satyr bowmen struggling with a crate, and a veritable air force consisting of two gargoyles and a harpy, all in process of shouldering burdens in crates and barrels.

Turnin, lit torch now in hand, decides to play it safe, and simply readies himself to dodge any incoming attacks, while Gnofulk, surly but too cautious to give into his rage, charges around the monk the take some swings at the nearest satyr brute. Kyllar casts a resounding Shatter spell near the back corner of the room, catching a gargoyle, satyr bowman and the harpy, though oddly enough, the stony gargoyle weathers the blast best.

Loot in hand, the gargoyles take flight, gaining altitude with ascending circles, one holding a barrel; one with a crate. One brute charges Turnin, and lands a blow against the monk. Apparently his eyes were still getting used to the light. The other, along with the orc and the grievously wounded (and enraged) harpy counter attack Gnofulk, landing a number of blows against the still-cautious gnome barbarian.

Rhogar comes to aid Gnofulk, and fells the wounded harpy. Shadowale comes to assist too, but is evidently too busy yelling for someone to attack the fleeing gargoyles to land a blow himself. Kaz the kobold, wary of fighting, takes up position behind the party, on the watch for any attacks from behind.

Turnin, torch held high, retaliates against his bestial assailant, as does Gnofulk against his mob of adversaries. Kyllar eyes the fleeing  gargoyles and launches a Magic Missile up into the darkness at them; one bolt apiece for the fliers, and one for… the barrel, which is grazed. Caught off guard, the barrel is also dropped by the gargoyle porter, and it begins tumbling back down towards the party.

Rhogar again swings to aid Gnofulk, as the barrel, leaking potent alcohols, crashes between Shadowale, Gnofulk and Turnin; the monks torch momentarily igniting the liquid, injuring the halfling, the gnome, and several of the Daask, though the monk is miraculously able to avoid the damage.

As the flames burn themselves out, Shadowale readies his bow and takes a shot at the still fleeing, crate-porting gargoyle, and lands a near impossible hit, startling this porter to drop his cargo as well, and start it tumbling down toward the party now as well…

The scrum continues as the crate lands with a crash, exploring coins and items everywhere. Turnin, Shadowale and Gnofulk start to focus on the orc leader, and Rhogar runs off to deal with the satyr bowmen, who have been ineffectually firing at the party.

Turnin lans a few blows against the orc, and is able to knock him prone. Gnofulk take the opportunity to embed his enchanted axe into the orc’s chest, ending him, as Rhogar smashes the skull of the last bowman.

The party breathes a sigh of relief. Kyllar’s familiar tries to track the gargoyles, and seeing through high owl familiar’s eyes, finds and relates to the party that the room is actually a large shaft, stretching up into Sharn itself; likely into a part of one of the cities innumerable towers far above the party. A few ledges are seen far above, via the owl familiar, and they are deduced by the party to be either resting spots or possibly starts to exits from the main shaft. As Kyllar is relaying this revelation, the rest of the party sets to examining the other whisky barrels and doing some quality control, picking up some of the coins that exploded around the room, busting open the other crate, and in general, just reveling in the loot they found.

The party doesn’t think they can safely fit the barrels of Ghallanda Hall whisky in their bag of holding, so they leave it for now, mentally retracing their steps. This dead-end to those stuck on the ground was one of three main avenues stemming from the entrance. A second had taken them beneath the Dagger River, and to several hidden entrances around its steep, rocky banks. The third had been partially explored, and contained the amphitheater with what sounded like a “boss lady” issuing commands that the party had... tactfully chosen to avoid previously. They steeled themselves, and set out down this path.

They soon found their way blocked by a second cave in. Having realized that the first was a trick, Kyllar assumes that this one is an illusion as well, and shoves an unsuspecting Turnin towards the rubble pile.

Stumbling, Turnin disappears into the conjuration of rubble, and moment later it disappears, revealing Turnin holding a pint-sized goblin dressed in robes in a headlock, the small green-skinned feet dangling in the air.

Turnin attempts to scare the goblin wizard into talking, but he isn’t able to get much out of the small green man. Opting to play the “good cop” Turnin turns the goblin to face the party, and insists that the goblin would like the monk’s approach better than the rogue’s. Unfortunately, Shadowale sneezes a dainty, almost elf-maiden-like sneeze mid-threat. Attempting to cover for his diminutive brother-in-arms, Gnofulk, mostly fluent in Gobbledygook but lacking some of the hurtful specifics, flubs an insult at the goblin’s mother.

Sick of the bumbling, Rhogar leans over the two short stacks and shows the party how it’s done. Sharp fangs illuminated by the fiery breath building in the back of his throat, and tendrils of smoke rising from his nostrils, he hungrily eyes the goblin, who, much to Turnin’s dismay, appears to pee himself a little bit. Turnin uncomfortable squirms a bit as the goblin begins spilling his secrets.

The party learns that the Daask here are taking orders from one Feral Fawcett, a medusa with a very distinctive haircut, even for medusas. The gangsters have been using these tunnels for some time to smuggle fellow gangsters and all manners of loot in and out of Sharn. The party thinks on this, and then begins to consider what to do with the goblin. When asked directly what he will do if let go, the goblin, oblivious to the unstated implications of the question, recites a Daask slogan and tries to spit at the feet of Kyllar. In a headlock though, the spittle doesn’t go far, and it drips down onto Turnin’s arm, who is officially grossed out and done with this goblin, and drops him to the floor.

Shadowale is immediately on the unfortunate goblin, viciously skewering him. The party eyes each other with a bit of unease, but says nothing.

As they walk back towards the amphitheater, Turnin, his powers of reasoning boosted by the bandana starts to piece things together, deducing that Feral probably had a hand in “creating” the statues found by the party near the entrance to this tunnel network, and that she’s probably dangerous. This deduction is supported by Rhogar’s experience, who has heard reports of medusas turning people to stone, and knows that they generally call the shots, and Kyllar, who recalls that eye contact with a medusa is generally encouraged to be avoided, if one values longevity.

The party makes their way down this avenue, past the dead ends, into the cavern room, over the bridge spanning the lava floe, and back to the entrance to the amphitheater. They pause, and hearing nothing but eerie quiet, Kyllar commands his familiar to scout ahead. Nothing threatening is found, and Turnin, trying to prove his worth to the party, ventures forth.

He scrambles up a column to a ledge of the second level, and cautiously pulls himself up, keeping his eyes closed or downward.

The amphitheater seems abandoned.

The party cautiously investigate, and find a noticeable-chiseled statue of a goblin on a thrown with a crown on the second level. Kyllar casts Detect Magic, and discovers a pile of dusty gray rubble, twisted up with a long raggedy-looking piece of cloth – the latter of which is tripping the detection spell.

Kyllar conjures his Mage Hand, and attempts to extricate the cloth from the rubble. As he does so, it is discovered that the cloth is a cloak, and the party notices that some of the rubble looks humanoid…

The cloak is dusted off as best the Mage Hand can do, and Kyllar starts to pat it down in preparation to identify the source of the item’s magic. In the folds of the cloak, a scrap of paper is discovered. It’s a message written in a cipher that Kyllar doesn’t know, and the party begins to pass it around as the wizard prepares the ritual spellcasting.

Always eager for new duds, Shadowale dons the cloak, which is about twice the size of the halfling, and pools around his feet, though he doesn’t feel any different. Eventually the cipher is passed to Shadowale, who declares that it is in a code used by the group of assassins under House Tarkanan, and informs the party that cloak was a gift to one Sonya (presumably the rubble intertwined with the cloak), from the House, which was meant to aid her in assassinating one Feral Fawcett. He tosses the note aside, and declares that it was super easy to translate. He’s kind of “in” with that group of assassins – but don’t tell anyone.

Shadowale takes a sip from a flask and continues to regard himself in the new cloak. Meanwhile, the rest of the party, eye each other warily once again. Should they ask about this Falco Burrows guy?

As the spell finishes, the rest of the party, shooting furtive glances towards Shadowale, realizes that he’s a little harder to focus on… and Kyllar declares that the cloak magical properties allow the wearer to become stealthier and better at hiding.

Feral Fawcett has eluded the party, but this return to the Cogs had gained them a good deal of insight on the Daask operations, some sweet loot, and more information about the secret spaces in Sharn.

The party departed the tunnel network back into the Cogs neighborhood, where they found Grrrrrrra and the kids still romping around. Kyllar reached into his bags and procured the small goblin axe he had been saving for her. Grinning wildly, the orc child thanked the wizard and scampered off, chasing the other kids (playfully). Still, the party made an expedited departure from the Cogs towards Ghallanda Hall.

Along the way, Turnin heard his name mentioned by a bystander on one of the ubiquitous walkways spanning the towers, and inquiring after who said it, turned to face Agor, a scruffy-looking, hunchbacked “arms dealer” the monk had contracted with earlier for “cool monk fighting gear” and “some good strong arms.”

Agor declared that he had both types of items, but acquiring more arms would take some time. He procured the “odd requests” first: a wad of arm wraps and a new staff, both with a slight blue hue to them. While Turnin was examining the cool monk gear, the party looked on in confusion, then disgust as Agor got to the “more usual stuff,” and pulled open his cloak to reveal several arms dangling from the interior of the hunchback’s cloak.

The rest of the party quickly surrounded Turnin and Agor, their bodies hopefully blocking the transaction from the view of any passersby.

The party realizes the grotesque misunderstanding that lead to this deal, and also learn that because Turnin had paid so generously and up front for the merchandise, Agor had snubbed one of his new regular buyers; probably some kind of necromancer, he thinks.

Kyllar is quick to offer a generous new deal. He wants to scope out this other buyer more than he wants these arms, and convinces Agor to sell this…. Merchandise to this alleged necromancer, and let the party observe the transaction. After a good amount of gold changes hands, Agor agrees.

The party continues their upward trek back to Ghallanda Hall, with Turnin itching at his bandana, finally understanding homophones, and suddenly a little worried about his dealings with that shaggy-looking hedge fund manager… after some more scratching at his bandana, and some mental math, the monk figured that mistake could probably be written off as a “charitable donation” come tax time and the party’s finances would come out strong. Where would the party be without him?

Eberron Adventure: Twenty-Third Session

The party, consisting of Gnofulk the gnome barbarian, Kyllar the human wizard (with his kobold manservant Kaz), Shadowale the halfling rogue, and Rhogar the dragonborn fighter, had been exploring a secret network of tunnels in the ancient foundations of Sharn, hoping to find some clue to the activities of the Daask gangsters.

Up ahead, the party heard voices. Kyllar cast Comprehend Languages, and through the ears of his familiar, carried by the stealthy rogue, was able to discern that a woman of authority was making preparations. Not liking their odds against this unknown boss lady on her home turf, the party beat a hasty retreat, abandoning their exploration of this branch of the tunnels entirely.

So, party withdrew, back through the small cavern and the bridge over the lava, and back through the winding tunnels, to the original four path intersection. The had originally entered from the eastern path, and had just come from the southern path, so the party continued their plan of “going left” and took the tunnel path to the west, opposite the original entrance.

The party caught a brief waft of cool air as they entered the tunnel – this deep in the lava-filled Cogs, that was unusual. The party decided to advance at a cautious, steady pace; with a torch-wielding Turnin as rear guard, and with the stealthy Shadowale as vanguard, attempting to scout.

Unfortunately, the halfling had a wandering mind. Although he was excelling at remaining quiet and unnoticed, he wasn’t paying much attention to his surroundings, and accidently bumped into two somethings, and quickly discerned it was an orc male and a tiefling female, leading a patrol. Battle was joined between these two equally surprised groups.

A bit startled, Gnofulk didn’t even have time to get angry before he started swinging the orc, and Kyllar supported the gnome’s efforts with a Firebolt.

Turnin, however, entirely misread the situation, and holding his staff in the crook of his arm while brandishing the torch, ran towards the female tiefling, who had drawn her blades. Turnin’s other arm was outstretched, and as he approached, he started declaring that he would save her from these hairy brutes and carry her away to saftey.

As his fingers brushed her arm, Turnin found himself hellishly rebuked, and jumped back from the tiefling’s burning flames. Realizing that she may actually be part of the Daask and not a prisoner, he quickly armed his staff and took a swing at her.

She took the hit, and again rebuffed Turnin, this time with a multitude of slashes from her poisoned blades, which laid low the doltish but well-intentioned monk. The orc likewise rebuffed the gnome, countering with swings of his own massive axe.

Shadowale, caught in the middle of the action but still unnoticed, slashed viciously at the orc, and Rhogar lept into the fray, swinging mightily to protect the downed monk.

By now, the rest of the Daask patrol had wizened up to the fact that they were under attack. Two satyr brutes moved up to slash viciously at the gnome; one waded into the melee to swing at the newly-noticed Shadowale and the last one bolted for Kyllar, landing a wicked blow against the wizard, despite some reactionary magical protection.

Bleeding, Gnofulk began to properly rage, swinging again and again at the orc and felling him; also bleeding, Kyllar shrieked in pain and amazement, completely unused to physical harm and not liking this experience at all. Kaz the kobold, scurried into the fray behind Rhogar, and taking one of Kyllar’s homebrewed healing potions, poured it down Turnin’s throat before scurrying away. Coming to, but still weak, the monk retreated, following the kobold out of the melee.

The tiefling stabbed at Rhogar, her poisoned blades finding purchase on the dragonborn’s scaly hide, but failing to truly affect the hulking fighter. Noticing her distraction, Shadowale lashed out with his blades, and slew her. Hearing the panicked cries of the feeble wizard, and having no noteworthy enemies before him, Rhogar turned and roared, running at the satyr attacking Kyllar.

The satyrs hack back at the party in a blind bloodlust, oblivious to their lack of commanders, and blows are landed upon Gnofulk, Shadowale and Kyllar’s savior, Rhogar.

Turnin, huddling near Kaz, opens his infrequently used book of clerical verses from the Sealers of the Stone Maw, and heals himself with a chant from a bookmarked page. After this quick breather, he returns to the fight.

The party outlasts the satyrs, weathering their strikes and responding in kind, including several critically-struck dagger stabs with Shadowale’s off-hand. The halfling seemed to be using the beasts for simple practice and showing off his knife skills to the party…

Having dispatched this patrol, the party pats down the bodies, while Kyllar loudly complains at being physically drawn into the fight, and injured. Not finding a good shield among the corpses, he tries bartering with Rhogar for his… but to no avail. All the Daask weapons are mundane, uninteresting, and in ill repair… save for the poisoned blades of the tiefling, which along with a small vial of the poison, are appropriated by Shadowale.

The party decides to press on, and they soon find the tunnel pathway curving and winding down.. soon the tunnel branches off, and the party cautiously explores the detour, from which the sounds of running water and a cooler breeze is emanating. Gnofulk creeps forward, and discovers an exit. He beckons the rest of the party closer, and unusually, Turnin is the one to start piecing things together, noticing that there are watermarks on the rocks nearby, and that at certain times, this path and tunnel could easily be used to enter Sharn secretly from the Dagger River.

Without mountaineering gear, this exit means nothing to the party, and they return to the tunnel complex, and continue their journey down…

They soon find another branching section, and Kyllar’s conjured owl familiar scouts it; and finds it to be another secret entrance, this time right at the current level of the Dagger River. Recent tracks are noticed by Kyllar, some small, some medium, some large, and some with webbed feet.
The party thinks on this, but cannot deduce what races the tracks belong to, or whether they were coming or going, and return to the descending path.

After a few more winding spirals, they reach the bottom, and the tunnel opens to a larger tunnel. A small cart sits at the entrance to this larger tunnel on a simple metal track, while a second empty track lays nearby. Both slope down, and off into the distance. Gnofulk, outlander extraordinaire deduces that this tunnel would appear to span directly under the Dagger River itself… and notices that they’ve spent nearly the entire day exploring.

The party hesitate for a moment, then pile into the cart, with Kyllar conjuring a series of magical crash belts for each party member. Realizing they have no way to propel themselves, the party begins to scoot and shift in unison, and eventually, the cart inches forward, and gravity soon takes over.

The ride, illuminated by Turnin’s still burning torch, is uneventful. After a few hundred feet, the tunnel bottoms out, and begins to rise. The party’s momentum carries them forward though, and over to the other side of the “chunnel.”  They pile out of the cart, and begin to work their way up through a new, rising passageway. After a few sweeping turns, they emerge to fresh air; the path has taken them somewhat above ground. This larger exit is also obscured; surrounded by similar rocky cliffs, but also shrubbery, and a few trees.

Kyllar and Gnofulk put their heads together, and think they could deduce where this place is later on. Turnin wonders aloud if this is the kind of secret passages that House Ghallanda might have interest in… and the party quickly reflects that the answer should be a resounding YES, as the party had to break through a wall to find this network of secret tunnels and spaces. This knowledge of secret spaces will be in high demand.

Satisfied with their find, but unable to depart this way, the party returns to the tunnels, and uneventfully starts backtracking, eventually finding themselves again at that first intersection. Now, even more injured, the party pass on returning to face the boss lady in the south, and instead opt to take the last available tunnel passage, heading north.

After a few twists and turns, they find themselves at a locked door. Eager to redeem himself, Shadowale ambles forth, and hiding his work from the party, eventually manages to unlock the door after only breaking a handful of lock picks.

Gnofulk offers himself up to scout the room, pushing open the door and sticking his head in. Fortunately, the room is empty, and not trapped. It contains a large cache of weapons, which the party gleefully descend upon.

At Turnin’s insistence, Kyllar readies a Detect Magic spell… and discovers a small, magical article of clothing hanging on a peg on the wall, hidden among a number of cloaks. Kyllar casts another spell, determining that this special bandana will boost a wearer’s intelligence. After toying with the idea of adorning his kobold with it, Kyllar decides that Turnin could make better use of it. A sentiment Turnin is unoffended by-

-until he puts on the bandana, at which point the inferences of the gift dawn on the monk. With his (slightly) boosted reasoning abilities, however, Turnin’s proverbial feathers are quickly unruffled, as the bandana, while simple in design… is pretty awesome. The monk can’t decide how to wear it though. And the monk also starts to get a sinking feeling that his investment in “arms dealing” may not be what he thought it was…

As Turnin tries out the bandana as a headband, a kind of skullcap, a scarf, a blind… the rest of the party rearms. Better-than-average looking items start finding their way into the Bag of Holding, and Kyllar finds a well-balanced goblin axe for Grrrrrrra, the orc child who had answered the questions of the party prior back in the Cogs. Gnofulk picks up a few more javelins, and Rhogar obtains some goblin short swords to use as throwing daggers, over his two hand axes.

With Turnin dressed to the nines, and the rest of the party rearmed, the party exits, with Gnofulk loudly appreciating and commenting on all the sharp new things the party has acquired. A short ways ahead, a door opens, and an orc’s head peers out into the hallway to see what the commotion is.

With a surprised grunt, the orc starts growling orders and shuts the door, and the party surrounds the doorway.

Shadowale grabs the doorknob, hanging off it. Rhogar knocks, and the door swings inward, as a quartet of arrows fly out of the room, one narrowly missing Shadowale, and only one striking Rhogar due to his magical arrow-catching shield. A loud curse bursts from Shadowale, who drops from the doorknob to the floor and scampers away to safety. As Rhogar and Gnofulk move to secure the door, more arrows are loosed. The orc is rallying the Daask here with small satyr archers along the far wall, himself by the door, and a group of satyr brutes waiting eagerly to slice anyone foolish enough to enter the room.

Turnin, again remembering the invocations from the tome of the Sealers of the Stone Maw, approaches Rhogar from behind, and with a hand on Rhogar’s shoulder and a word of encouragement, blesses the fighter with a prayer of Rocky Resilience, which will weaken the blows struck against fighter. Shadowale, unable to enter the fray without extreme hazard to himself, decides to forego this fight and entertain himself. Following Turnin’s example, Shadowale places a hand on Rhogar’s thigh, and recites a dirty halfling limerick. Rhogar isn’t fooled, and understands perfectly well that the halfling is not helping.

Kyllar approaches Gnofulk from behind, and launches a fireball over the gnome’s head into the center of the room. Such a strike was apparently unexpected, a momentary conflagration erupts. When the flames die down a few seconds later, the archers lay dead; the brutes are badly burned, and the orc’s armor is ruined with scorch marks.

Realizing their trap will not be sprung, the burned satyr brutes and their orc commander move to shut the door, in a last ditch effort at a modicum of safety from the rampaging party…

Gnofulk is quick to act though, and literally gets his foot in the door. Shadowale too, seeing a moment to help, fires an arrow with a hefty head into the doorframe in an attempt to prevent it from closing.

Rhogar pushes forward, forcing the door open against the feeble resistance offered by the burned Daask gangsters, and the party begins to flood in. Gnofulk follows the dragonborn in, swinging with his magical axe and ending the life of one satyr brute, and Turnin is close behind, the monk bounding into the thick of the brutes. Turnin chants and channels Ki as he jumps into a whirling tornado kick, the deadly feet breaking through the skulls of both remaining brutes, and denting the orc’s scorched armor before the monk lands.

Kyllar, still angry about bleeding his own blood, storms into the room behind Turnin, and as the monk lands, throws a Fire Bolt into the orc’s surprised stupid face, ending him.

The party surveys the room, and notices a number of now charred bunk beds. Being quite late in the evening now, the party long for a respite from adventuring and fighting. Even slightly smoldering, the remains of the beds are calling to the explorers… but will they be able to sneak in a moment of rest??

Eberron Adventure: Twenty-Second Session

Turnin, the human monk, awoke to a vile, almost Sulphur-like smell in his room in Ghallanda Hall. The smell was emanating from a nearby puddle, and the Kaz the Kobold was chattering softly pacing about the room. Grumbling, Turnin shooed the scaly companion out for a moment, got dressed, and went to find someone from whom he could request a thorough scrubbing for his room.

Groggily, the monk grabbed a pastry as he departed the inn with the ornery kobold – the honest party banker was tired after a few days of running around Sharn looking for things called “investments” on which to spend the party’s hard-earned coin. Despite it being almost noon, the duo sleepily wandered aimlessly for a while before Turnin noticed a note tied around the kobold’s neck. Opening the note, he discovered that the rest of the party had headed back down to the Cogs for some investigative business, and that he should be wary around Kazgaroth, who has been acting out lately. Signed, Kyllar. The duo turns a corner and starts making their way down towards the foundations of the City of Towers.

They wind their way through the Cogs, which over the last few days, has returned to some semblance of normalcy. The two are a peculiar sight, and are quickly recognized, and many of the Cogsfolk thank them and point them in the direction the party traveled.

Several resounding booms are heard as Turnin and Kaz wind their way through the Daask neighborhood. They walk through the grubby cafeteria, and into the “art gallery” just in time for Kyllar’s last “Shatter” spell to uh… shatter the false wall behind the spacious desk.

As the dust motes drift down, cooler air wafts out from the corridor, cutting through some of the oppressive heat from all the lava down in the Cogs. The party, consisting of Rhogar the dragonborn paladin, Shadowale the halfling rogue, Gnofulk the gnome barbarian and Kyllar the human wizard, start discussing their next move. Without announcing his arrival and without breaking pace, Turnin walks past the party and down into the corridor.

However it is far too dark to go far, and he quickly rejoins the party in the gallery and is brought up to speed as torches are readied. Turnin isn’t sure that the statues are real people, but concedes that it is odd that one would wear the insignia of a member of the city watch. Or that someone would take the time to shape the body of a beaten gnome or cowering orcling. But what do they know? They’re not artists or art critics, they are adventurers! The readied torches are lit, and the party is off; eagle-eyed Gnofulk leading the way down the winding corridor.

The party notices (and is surprised to see) that the corridor is rather wide and stout, and supported with actual brickwork – this is no haphazardly dug network. The main tunnel is very long, and minutes pass as the party makes their way down it, taking time to try and methodically explore other tunnels as paths start branching off from the main line. Several dead ends are discovered, and Shadowale, wary of “impediments” as the party destroyed a false wall to find these tunnels, investigates each one with a swift kick from a hairy halfling foot… but finds that these are very solid obstructions; cave-ins from long ago.

One of these branching tunnels doesn’t lead to a dead end, but to an old looming door. Most of the party stumbles into a halt around the corner, but Kyllar approaches and brazenly twists the knob and declares that is open and not trapped. Dark stares are thrown in the wizard’s direction.

The rest of the party approaches, the door, extinguishes their torches, and Gnofulk throws open the door… and finds naught but a treasure chest before him. Torches are re-lit, and Gnofulk reaches to throw open the lid-

-but quickly opens on its own, showing a glimpse of jewels and teeth. Startled, Gnofulk snatches his hand back as the chest snaps, narrowly missing the first bite, but getting a good scratch in with a second lunge. The party dispatches the treasure chest before Turnin can even approach, and the monk, who was bringing up the rear of the formation, wonders what all the fuss is about.

Kyllar is befuddled by the scene and can only mutter something in amazement about how aggressive the treasure chests was. If this is the norm, Kyllar may be gaining a newfound respect for pirates. A Mage Hand is conjured, but despite poking around the innards, the treasure that had gleamed a few moments before is nowhere to be found in the guts.

Undaunted, the party regroups and makes their way back to the main corridor. After a few more kinks and twists… they discover that it has suffered a cave in too. However.. there is something different about this obstruction. Whereas the other obstructions were dense and dusty, with the ends of the walkable spaces contorted under an immense weight, the corridor walls seem intact. The deft halfling foot lashes out again, and discovers that dirt here is indeed fresh.

The party pokes around the dirt and rubble pile blocking their path, which appears to be transplanted into the corridor. Kyllar conjures a shovel, and hands it to his kobold manservant, gesturing towards the dirt pile. The kobold literally digs in as the party loiters – I mean strategizes.

The pleasant chat is disrupted by a resounding, thunderous boom, which blasts most of the dirt obstruction away, but also bloodies and throws the unsuspecting kobold over 20 feet behind the party. On instinct, the party tries to take cover in the corridor, pressing themselves against walls, readying their weapons and looking quickly and intently about them. As the echoes bouncing deeper within the tunnel network slowly lose their force, the party relaxes, and the kobold is tended to. Kyllar finds him dazed, but alright. The party regroups, and cautiously delves further.

They soon reached an intersection of sorts, where their tunnel met three others. The party opts to go left, and travel down another long, winding corridor, and pass two stubby dead end corridors, as they start to realize that it is getting warmer. Up ahead the corridor is lit with faint red glow from magma, and the party decide to extinguish their torches and creep up.

They find a dimly lit cavernous room; their tunnel becoming a path, then descending down and becoming a bridge to span the lava flow before boring back into the rocky walls as a tunnel. Marching out of this other tunnel is an 8-strong patrol of assorted Daask thugs. The party retreat, and opt to hide in the nearest dead-end corridor.

Kyllar conjures a new pile of rubble a few feet out from the obstruction and the party hides. Poking two fingers into his illusionary wall, he makes some peep holes… but realizes he cannot see in the dark, and leads them down to gnome eye-level.

Holding their breath, the party anxiously waits until Gnofulk gives the all clear. A small flame is conjured behind the illusionary wall, and in pantomime, the party argue about what to do: either avoid the patrol and press on, or circle back and try to take the patrol by surprise.

Rhogar, pounding his fist into his palm, convinces the party to try and take out the patrol. The conjured flame is snuffed out, and the party stealthy moves out to stalk their prey, led by the gnome and halfling.

The floors are clear of obstructions, and those with darkvision lead the two human members through the dark without incident, and they begin to close the gap. Before they can strike, however, Gnofulk absentmindedly fumbled his axe, and clatters to the ground. Not the “GO!” signal he was expecting, Shadowale hesitates, and the patrol – all with darkvision – are able to react to the presence of the party.

The two small satyr bowmen fire their shots; one of them pricking Gnofulk, who is just seething with rage. The four satyr-like brutes in the rear scramble up towards the party, spreading across the hall while the two orcs take up position behind the hairy, bestial wall, while growling orders and readying their weapons.

The party begins to charge in the darkness, closing the gap. Gnofulk is first, charging along the right side of the wall, but he is apparently still rattled by his buttery fingers, and misses both his mighty swings. Shadowale decides he doesn’t want to get into the fray, and haphazardly draws and fires his crossbow, narrowly missing Gnofulk, but endangering no one else. Rhogar and Kyllar charge up to the hairy wall, Rhogar breathing fire and burning the two satyr brutes in the middle of the line as well as the two orcs behind them; and Kyllar casts Thunderwave, tossing one brute back and off against the orc, and ending up prone. Poor Turnin, still blind in the darkness, ignites his torch and run up to assess the situation.

The battle now joined, the brutes slash with simple, sharp blades while the orcs move up to plug the gap and press the attack against Rhogar with their axes and maces. The satyr bowmen fire again, only managing to injure the brute fighting Gnofulk, who after scoring a hit against the raging gnome, takes a brutal hack in return. Shadowale abandons his crossbow and scurries over to the far left of the hall, drawing his blades and viciously slaying the brute. Having took the brunt of the Daask counter attack, Rhogar growls and strikes back, finding a much needed second wind to focus his mind. Dangerously close but not actually engaged in the fighting, Kyllar is able to weave a Firebolt through the ranks, injuring one of the brutes, while Turnin, having assessed the situation with a discerning eye, wades into the fighting and lands a critical killing blow with his staff while waving the torch menacingly at the hairy brutes.

Losing ground, the orcs growl an order incomprehensible and the satyr bowmen make an expeditious retreat while the rest of the Daask hack against the party, spilling blood from everyone but Kyllar, who was hiding behind Turnin, and Kaz the kobold, who was hiding behind Kyllar.

Gnofulk and Shadowale slay another brute each, with Gnofulk swinging normally while Shadowale attempted to use his smaller stature to slice at the femoral artery and… while he never quite found it, did manage to his a few other things south of the belt. Ever the talkative one, Turnin stepped forth to interrogate an orc, but received an unintelligible snarl in reply. In his own rebuttal, Turnin swings, but misses the orc’s head twice.. then resorts to Shadowale-inspired “dirty fighting.” (…Or, if you remember back to session one, “uh.. just saying hello”.)

Having the advantage in numbers, now the fight began to grind down. Blood continued to be spilled on both sides, though the Daask were getting the worse of it now. The enemy line broken, Shadowale springs off a wall to land near the last orc’s feet and land more ignoble strikes while Gnofulk circled around and struck from behind. At death’s door, the orc looked upon Rhogar with pleading eyes, and the dragonborn mercifully smote the armored, green-skinned gangster.

The party staunches their wounds, and catches their breath. The party hears nothing in response to the scuffle, and considers chasing after the bowmen… however don’t think they’ve explored the tunnels well enough yet to even guess where they might be retreating to. They decide to press on. Leaving the bodies, they make their way back to the cavernous room, down to and over the bridge, and into the other tunnel. A few winds in, the distinct sounds on conversation can be heard up ahead.

Kyllar signals for the party to stop, conjuring his familiar and casting Comprehend Languages. Shadowale grabs the familiar and stealthily moves up and around the corner.

Via the senses of the familiar, Kyllar hears a slightly raspy woman’s voice speak of “securing the goods” and “preparing to withdraw for now if the patrols cannot secure the tunnels or find what set off the Thunderwave trap.” Deeper, more growly, masculine voices reply curtly, assuring her that everything will be seen to.

Shadowale creeps back, and Kyllar relates the words to the party. Shadowale relates the path ahead; the tunnel opens up into a pit-like hole, with another tunnel across the way. A second level appears to circle the pit, and it is from here that the voices came.

Injured and uncertain, the party withdraw to discuss their options….

Eberron Adventure: Twenty-First Session

So there they were: Shadowale the halfling rogue, Rhogar the dragonborn, Kyllar the human wizard, and Gnofulk the gnome barbarian, walking yet again down to the Cogs and catching up after a hearty breakfast and a few days apart.

Kyllar was brought up to speed on the failed crusade of Steven Brighthammer von Carlsburg Jr, and his molten fate… and the wizard is duly outraged, because guys he probably had a ton of magic swag. The party bickers arguing that it was probably paladin-only gear, and that selling it would have been a hassle. Not once do they think of donating it back to the Silver Flame (for the moment, commanded by Blume, Asmund’s mentor).

The party soon finds they have wandered to the dam, still being repaired by House Cannith workers. Shadowale does his best inspector impersonation and nods approvingly as the party passes. As they make their way down the switchback into one of the residential areas of the Cogs, Kyllar relates to the party how he found his kobold manservant, in an alleyway in Sharn, surrounded by a few plump orphan children. Kyllar was originally pleased that the kobold was so protective of others.. until the kolbold licked its lips and procured some pilfered spices. Kyllar was mortified, woke the sleeping street urchins and forcefully took his kobold back towards Ghallanda, lecturing the reptile all the way, though Kyllar new the fault lay with himself. The kobold was just hungry, and Kyllar should have kept a better eye on his scaled ward. So of course, Kyllar locked the kobold in the room today when he went off adventuring.

The party starts traversing the neighborhood, and cheers are raised as they pass, particularly for Gnofulk, as he was a familiar face in the Cogs previously, and the actions of the party in halting the crusade (and the actions of Gnofulk in introducing Steve to lava) and protecting the Cogsfolk have turned the gnome into a recognizable local hero of sorts.

Children scamper up around the party, trying to compare their heights to Gnofulk, and (occasionally to) Shadowale, though the halfling seems to have far too many blades to be truly approachable. Not to be outdone, Kyllar starts conjuring toys for the children… which dutifully wink out of existence every time a new one is created. Brief wails of disbelief are created in the wake of the passing party.

As they turn to the east, towards the efficient foundry (that refused to summon a fire elemental for the party), they notice two things. The first is that the foundry is back in business, and busy. They’ll need to go around it. The second is that some signage is being changed to “Rhaaal’s Way.” The party investigates, questioning the locals as they go.

As it turns out, Rhaaal, the orc fighter and his cornergoblin Zeke, are also local heroes. When the party failed to convince the orc to team up, and sent him out to warn the rest of the Cogs while the party dealt with the problem on the dam, he went on a bit of a rampage, cleaving his way through a few Silver Flame patrols. Terrified locals inspired by Rhaaal’s brutality, and encouraged by Zeke, who was shouting his little goblin lungs out calling for the locals to follow the green pair to safety, ended up doing just that. The Cogsfolk eventually made it to Blume, the City Watch, and safety.

The party learns that Rhaaal was injured while rampaging, and is recovering nearby, so the party take a quick detour to visit. Outside the little huts, a statue has sprung up. …at least the party thinks it’s a statue. Rubble and debris look to have been glued together to form what appears to be a goblin, pointing forward, riding atop an orc with a huge axe. With a flick of his fingers, Kyllar the ever meddling, gestures towards the statue, which starts to emit a soft, golden glow.

Zeke greets the party and informs them Rhaaal is resting. They chat, and Zeke is eager to tell them that their local hero status will probably catapult them into being on a Sharn city council, or maybe alderpersons or something? He’s not quite sure what’s what of how Sharn government works, or if there are even elections, but he’s excited about it. The party grumble that they’d like to have something named after them, and the goblin’s pointy ears perk up. Perhaps, whenever he figures out what Rhaaal and/or Zeke are doing, they could name something after the party… which is called, what? Exactly?

The party departs, bickering again. Gnofulks Folk is quickly shouted down, as is every other “Person & Friends” style name. The foundry is sidestepped, and the party, while still debating, makes their way, for the third time as a group, into a well populated neighborhood in the Cogs, where they are singled out for special, personal thanks from the populous, despite still debating names. Kyllar continues to conjure toys, and little squeals of delight as they receive the gift, followed closely by wails of disbelief as it disappears when a new is handed out by Kyllar, continue to burst from Cogsfolk children as the party travels.

They make their way onto the bridge, still debating, and agree they should visit the goblin Zoop, whose Soup Shop is nearby. They find it bustling. The original shop is entirely kitchen now, and some neighboring hovels have been turned into seating, and everything is being renovated and connected. The party wander into the kitchen, and Zoop, who has acquired a second-hand poofy chef hat, excitedly greets them, and offers free soup, clearing off spots for them at the counter. Business is booming, and all he has ready right now is Soup #1, which the party admits, has improved drastically from Zoops other, meatier soup endeavors.

In between slurps and sips, the party inquires after the Daask, who had been ensconced to the west. Zoop replies that the gangsters packed up and left – the party even saw them packing. And no, nobody has moved in yet. It’s been like, 3 days guys. It was a bad neighborhood before, they trashed it before they left, and there are no big land developers on the Cogs eager to buy it up. It’s terrible set of properties – an entire “fixer-upper” neighborhood over there.

The party finishes their soup, and go to pay, when Zoop reminds them that they get free soup here, for their work on the train. Still, a going coin stealthily makes its way into Zoops pocket, deposited by Shadowale. As the party leaves, Zoop calls after them, saying if they ever need a goblin – he’s the goblin to call.

The party walk over to the still-collapsed bridge, peering over into the sealed foundry owned by that warforged society. They cannot come up with a good way to all traverse the river of lava, and decide investigation there would not be worth the effort, and travel towards the neighborhood previously held by the Daask gangsters.

The Cogs were sparsely populated here, and the ramshackle abodes acquired by the Daask are a ways apart from the next nearest group of ramshackle abodes. It would have taken some serious strong arming to acquire the next nearest cluster of shanties, which as the party discovers as thy approach, has some children playing “kick the rock.”

Kyllar conjures an actual ball for the children to use, and the oldest, a young orc girl steps up to claim it, and asks her about the Daask. Her attention is elsewhere though, and still clutching the ball, she wanders over to Gnofolk, reaching out to touch his magical axe, pausing at the last moment to ask permission. It is given with a nod, and she reverently places her hand on it, amazing that she touched the “axe that saved the Cogs,” and wishing that she’ll get her own axe someday. Every orc needs an axe, apparently. Her brain catches up to her, and she stutters, asking Kyllar to repeat his question.

The party is soon brought up to speed. The orc child, and the other children, and their families were caught unaware by the crusading paladins. The “ignoble-looking” Cogsfolk were chases back towards their homes by the advancing Silver Flame zealots. Then, the Daask charged the paladins, a fight ensued, and the normal Cogsfolk were able to flee and hide. The paladins fought hard but were slaughtered to a man; the numerous Daask went back to packing, and then they themselves fled, taking all sorts of neat-looking axe-like weapons and kegs with them. She tells the party that she peeked into a few of their huts the other day, but didn’t see anything. She thinks they are truly gone.

The party remembers their manners, and ask her name before they depart. She replies that she’s called “Grrrrrrra!” tossing her hands up at the end. She says she doesn’t need to do that when she says her name, but it’s more fun that way. The party chuckles, and wonders if that’s a traditional orc name, as they turn their attention to investigating the former Daask strongholds…

The Daask.. arrangement, is split roughly into four clusters of buildings. Two groupings of “outposts” stood apart on flat ground, and two other groupings of buildings abutted the bedrock walls of the cavernous Cogs beneath Sharn. The party opted to investigate the outposts first, starting with the northernmost cluster, with Kyllar reaching out with ritual castings of Detect Magic. 

Peeking quickly around the buildings, the party confirms they appear to be abandoned. Two of the buildings are longer and stouter; four are taller and thinner, and look like makeshift towers. Choosing one at random, Gnofulk pushes against the door, but finds it a bit jammed. With a grunt, he swings his axe at the door, and it gives way a bit before slamming back shut. A crossbow bolt bursts out of the door above Gnofulk’s head – it was trapped! Shadowale and Kyllar move back, and Rhogar takes up a position by the doorframe. He extends extending his magical arrow-catching shield to protect against any more bolts as Gnofulk takes another chop at the door, breaking it down.

Inside they find the "abandoned" crossbow, and the trip-wire mechanism that triggered the shot. Gnofulk breaks them. They traverse a rickety ladder to the roof… and don’t find too much. The party splits up, and jumps, spider climbs, and walks to the other “towers.” Another crossbow trap is found and easily smashed/disarmed, as well as a rock trap on a trapdoor, both before they can do any damage.

The barracks are abandoned as well, but not trapped. A few rusted, broken blades and some broken arrows and crossbow bolts are found… along with some very dirty sleeping pallets. Everything is incredibly grubby, and everything of remote value seems to have been carted off.

The second cluster of outposts are similarly grubby and similarly trapped, though the party avoids triggering any traps. Still nothing of value is found.

The next nearest cluster of buildings appears to be arranged around a large T-shaped building attached to the cavern wall. Investigating the surrounding buildings reveals them to be largely supply huts - now empty, save for a few broken, dry casks of Ghallanda Hall's "Bour-bon Voyage".

The T building appears to be mostly a cafeteria, of sorts... though much of the tables and stools and benches have been smashed. A lone door is slightly ajar at the halfway point of the cafeteria. Finding little use in picking through the splinters and debris, the party opts for the door.

The room can only be described as a kind of abandoned art gallery. While the party is in the Cogs, the usual muggy warmth seems to dissipate, and the room is damper and cooler. Opposite the door hangs a tall faded tapestry, depicting some unnamed nobleman hunting with his entourage. In front of the tapestry stands a cleared, simple desk. On the walls, color disparities show where things had been hanging until recently. A number of pedestals sit about the floor. Four pedestals are larger, and and have life-sized stone statues atop them.

Detect Magic hasn't triggered yet, though the party is quite wary of possibly being attacked by the statues. They very hesitantly approach each in turn an examine it.

The first is a reclining gnome, his stony face lumpy and his fingers mangled from some unknown violence. Though battered, he appears defiant, and is making a rude gesture as best he can.

The second is a female elf warrior, blade bared in a downward stroke.

The third is a human male, preparing to thrust with a spear from behind his shield.

The fourth statue is a recline orc child, folded in on itself, its eyes with with terror.

As Rhogar examines each, something catches his eye about the third statue. The party huddles close and realizes that the man has the insignia of a member of Sharn's City Watch, though they do not recognize him. They quickly re-examine the other statues, and while they do not recognize any of them, the party has a suspicion that these were real people turned into stone.

Curious, but stumped, the party decide to leave the statues alone for now. Shadowale moves to investigate the tapestry, and with a grin, jumps, and rips it off the wall. While the halfling is buried in cloth, the rest of the party see that it was hiding a bricked over archway. Gnofulk and Rhogar examine it, knocking on it. The sounds are muffled, Gnofulk is able to determine that the is no bedrock on the other side of the wall, though the party is uncertain if they could break through. They decide to return, as there is yet one more group of buildings to investigate.

As they approach the last grouping, Detect Magic trips, alerting Kyllar of something in the farthest hut, which is built up against the cavern wall. They sweep the surrounding building first, and find that they are somewhat nicer than the other huts they have seen. Most have a few pieces of furniture, and look to house only a few Daask members in each. However, these too are picked over, and the party can find nothing of value or interest.

Eager for any scraps of loot or information, the party eagerly descends on the last building. Like the ones searched just now, it is nicer. Or.. was. The roof has collapsed, and rubble is everywhere. Detect Magic tells Kyllar that the object of his search is in the rubble, a ways back. Kyllar and Rhogar groan at the thought of excavation.. but Shadowale and Gnofulk can see under the desk, and think they can crawl under the desk and avoid any heavy lifting. The short stack duo depart, while Kyllar and Rhogar gingerly begin moving rubble off the desk - this room doesn't look to have been stripped clean like all the others...

The gnome and halfling deftly traversed the rubble, and found themselves in a secret room. Gnofulk is able to determine that this room has been hewn into the bedrock, it's existence kept secret by the actual building. They locate a safe, though Shadowale's lockpick attempt fails, and the broken tool is jammed inside the mechanism. They also find a full cask each of Ghallanda Hall's Bour-bon Voyage and Rye Not. They immediately start a quality control effort.

The short stack duo manhandle the safe out into the other building. In between tipsy hiccups, Shadowale tells Kyllar that the safe is unpickable, and the safe finds its way into the Bag of Holding. The liquor recovered while Kyllar and Rhogar examine the missives they recovered.

Most are torn, or illegible. But they are able to recover two missives. One is in common, and is an update on the experimental airship being developed by House Cannith and House Orien. After a few rereads, the party recalls that when they first traveled to the Cogs, it was to find a fiery elemental for a new airship to use. It probably is the same airship. The report notes where the flight tests have been taking place in Sharn.

The second missive is in orcish. Gnofulk, despite knowing the more goblin-centric language of Gobbledygook, can't discern the note's significance, and the party pockets the note, hoping to find someone that speaks orcish before time passes and the note's information becomes out of date.

Their spirits buoyed by their finds here, the party decide to return to the gallery and investigate that archway.

Gnofulk procures a bottle of frost giant strength from one of his squirrel-skin pouches, but the party decides to use the pedestals as battering rams.

Given the varied height of the party members, the first several attempts mostly result in shattered pedestals. Kyllar then remembers he has a spell called Shatter, which, after a few attempts, sunder the brick and mortar barricade.

Dust flies, and the party feels a damp chill from the air beyond the arch. They peer inside, and see a long stonework corridor stretching and winding deep into the dark...

Eberron Adventure: Twentieth Session

So there they were…

The party, consisting of Gnofulk the gnome barbarian, Turnin the human monk, Shadowale the halfling rogue, and Rhogar the dragonborn fighter, sat on the roof of a small building. Joining the party was Flappy, the dumb-looking familiar of a certain missing wizard was gesturing off into the distance at a dam holding back lava, and four goblins: three scared and one, named Zoop, hell-bent on defending his neighborhood and “soupin’ some guys!”

The party has a bad feeling about the dam. Gnofulk, having honed his skills enough to vastly improve his eyesight, could see the dam, but due to perspective, and the dam edge being way taller than the building, all he could discern was the gleaming of the occasional, very polished, metal helmet as it popped just into view. The party deduces that the Silver Flame must be trying to break the dam. They interrupt Zoop, who is still rambling about how much he wants to soup somebody for trying to kill his friends, with questions about the dam, but the simple soup peddler doesn’t know much. The goblin speculates that if the dam were to break, it would probably be bad? He cooks soup. He’s not an engineer.

Gnofulk is hoisted up in the air by Rhogar to survey the rest of the area. Several Silver Flame patrols are seen to the west – dead. Those are Daask neighborhoods, and while they appear to be in the process of leaving, they are still abundant in the area.

The party decides Zoop can’t stay; he is not on good terms with the Daask should they come this way, and his shop is not far from the ‘downriver’ lava flow, and if the dam were to break, the goblin would be undulated with lava. Unfortunately, the vats of hot soup are quite heavy, and the party insists that they must leave the soup behind if they are to make good time to the dam. Zoop relents, but insists that each goblin take a ladle of hot soup with them, you know, just in case.

The group descends from the group via a ladder, and mere steps into the trip, the three scared goblins immediately drop their ladles. On the ground Zoop sighs, and readies his improvised weapon.

The party determines that they will need to traverse the foundry to the north to reach the dam quickly, and set out, backtracking towards the bridge they “promised” to guard, and leaving the Daask in the neighborhoods to their immediate northwest unbothered.

As they approach the bridge, some of the Silver Flame soldiers, whom the party had originally duped into wandering off, returned. They did not look pleased, and spread themselves out over their entire side of the bridge, regarding the party coldly.

Turnin tries to bluff, asserting that the party has dutifully been guarding the bridge the whole time, but the zealots draw their blades, gesture to Zoop and the goblins, and accuse the party of lying and consorting with the evil the Silver Flame has pledged to destroy.

Zoop springs into action, sprinting out from the safety of the party, and hurtles his ladle of piping hot soup towards the accusative paladin, splattering him in the face. Souped! The paladins are too far to totally close with, Rhogar advances, stopping a little short of the line of battle, and flings a hand axe, striking the paladin wiping soup from is eyes. He then turns to face the two paladins on the flank, trying to draw them in. Shadowale, following behind Rhogar, is more fleet of foot, and as Rhogar’s thrown axe strikes, so does the halfling, his quick blades winding weak spots in the zealot’s armor.

The paladins find their footing and retort. The duo close on Rhogar, and through pure religious fervor, start raining critical blows and smites upon the dragonborn, though his tough hide and combat training manage seem to be blunting at least some of the damage, and allow him to keep his cool. The leader recovers enough to notice the halfling before him, and while he lands a blow, the rogue is able to uncannily position himself to mitigate some of the force of the strike. The final paladin advances, blade drawn, and readies himself for an attack from the monk closest to him.

Turnin obligies, skipping forward with his staff twirling in an attempt to distract the paladin, but the zealot sees through the feint. Blows are quickly traded, but with a powerful unarmed strike to the paladin’s chest, he is thrown to the edge of the bridge, where he slams into the rocky protective lip, and teeters, arms flailing. Gnofulk joins the fight, his small legs propelling him forward into the action. He gives the teetering paladin a shove, which pushes him over the edge into lava, and then moves to help Rhogar. Zoop shouts encouragement to the party, but is not a master tactician. Despite the distraction, in short order, the leader of the patrol is slain, and while bloodied himself, Rhogar, is able to accidentally skewer one of his two assailants while the other is merely knocked out by Turnin.

An unintelligible magical scroll is looted from the corpse of the patrol leader by Shadowale. The party prepares to move north, through the foundry, but want to update Blume, the turncoat with a conscious second-in-command of the crusade with their worries about the dam. The party gives Zoop and the goblin troop a long list of things to tell the elf paladin guarding an exit for the fleeing Cogsfolk, to which the goblins blink, their tiny jaws agape. Rhogar the poet gives them a rhyming couplet to convery instead: “Tell elf Blume; Dam go boom.” The goblins nod and grin, scampering and skipping towards the protected exit, singing the rhyme to themselves, the song interspersed with Zoop asking the others if they saw how well he souped that one guy.

The party enters the foundry, but find it abandoned; littered with work discarded carelessly by fleeing workers. They rapidly traverse the walkways and catwalks, and exit, arriving in the northern, more populated side of the Cogs here.

Gnofulk is familiar the most with the area, and outlines the quickest path towards the dam, keeping the lava stream relatively close to the left of the party. This section of the Cogs is in an uproar. The party advance as quickly as they can, hurrying all manner of orc and goblin civilians back towards Blume and safety.

As they pick their way through streets and crowds alike, they happen upon a Silver Flame patrol. This trio of paladins brandishing blades and menacing nearly two dozen Cogs folk in a back alley. Turnin extends his staff out horizontally to his side, and brings the party to a halt.

After the briefest of conferences, the party draws their ranged weapons, and swiftly swing into the alleyway, close to within 15 feet of the paladins and attack. The paladins, unaware of the new challengers behind them, are devastated, and fortunately the party doesn’t have any errant shots into the Cogsfolk behind them. The paladins stagger, and try to turn to face the party, but are quickly overwhelmed. One is slain by Shadowale, another incapacitated by Turnin, and the third is spared by Rhogar, who bellowed the foot soldier into submission. The soldier knows only his orders – to keep the foul beasts disorganized and down in the Cogs – and cannot enlighten the party any about the dam. Rhogar snarls in disgust, and the soldier begins tearing off his Silver Flame regalia as he tries to outpace the Cogsfolk, who are being urged out of the area by the party.

The party continues on, and as they near the last cluster of hovels that pass as houses down here in the cogs, they hear two familiar voices (one deep; one not) arguing.

They discover Rhaaal, the orc pit fighter, arguing with his manager, trainer and corner goblin, Zeki. Gnofulk approaches, and the party is able to learn that Rhaaal wants to fight the shiny intruders in the Cogs, and Zeki thinks it’s time to flee. Gnofulk tries to convince Rhaaal and Zeki to join the fight, and help the party reach the dam, but despite every possible advantage, fails to do so, and Zeki’s position of discretion holds more sway over the orc. The party then takes a different track, and suggests that the greenskin duo take a long, meandering way out, and that they try to bring any Cogsfolk they find down towards Blume and the safe exit. Should they find any Silver Flame patrols though, Rhaaal shouldn’t hold back. The duo agrees to the plan, and stealthily depart.

Peeking out from the safety of this last cluster of hovels, the party sees their path to the upper part of the dam, a switchback carved into the little cliff side, blocked. Two well armored paladins guard the footpath on the ground, and two Silver Flame crossbowmen and entrenching themselves at the top.

The party bursts from the hovels, overrunning the paladins on the ground and catching them off guard. Rhogar lands a brutal hack and offers his apologies while the rest of the party closes in. A vicious blow is lined up against Turnin, but Rhogar manages to intercept it, knocking the assailant out. His fellow guard is also quickly incapacitated. The crossbowmen have established themselves above, and begin to shoot down into the party. Rhogar and his magical shield negates the first volley, and then the gnome and dragonborn begin moving up the switchback, Rhogar pausing to raise his shield as the crossbows are readied and raised again.

Shadowale and Turnin, being the most agile of the party, attempt a more difficult but more direct route, and attempt to climb the cliff wall, though Turnin misses a toehold, and only Shadowale makes any progress to start. The murderous halfling is just shy of the top, and will soon be on the crossbowmen.

Turnin gives up the climbing idea, and sprints up the switchback, joining the rest of the party as they overwhelm the crossbowmen. One is again mercifully knocked out, but a second is pushed viciously off the cliff by Gnofulk. As they establish themselves on the high ground, the sharp-eyed gnome spies a showdown on the dam.

Asmund, the half giant paladin towers over  Steve von Carlsburg Jr, grumpy, de-facto leader of the Silver Flame in Sharn, and leader of this violent endeavor. Steve’s three Silver Flame attendants form a circle, and single combat is joined-

-then abruptly cancelled, and two paladin attendants cut down Asmund’s legs and strip him of his weapon.

The party quickly approaches close enough to hear Steve deride the disobedient half ogre. They advance onto the dam’s walkway together and Steve shouts at them, in an attempt to dissuade them from obstructing his holy work. The party tries to comprehend the fanatic’s course of action, and while Steve denies being behind the massacre of the clerics, promising that the true perpetrators will be dealt with once the Daask are cleansed from the city, the party cannot believe him.

With an exultation to the Silver Flame, Steve commands his paladins to intercept the newcomers, and swings his hammer, striking an enchanted looking spike that has been driven into the center of the dam, which shakes violently with the blow.

Gnofulk charges toward Steven in a blind rage, but is stopped by a paladin attendant. After a few failed attempts, Gnofulk manages to catch the paladin off balance, and push him off the edge. The attendant skids down the side of the dam, and sloshes into the lava below, too shocked to utter a sound.

Turnin runs up, and launches himself over the gnome to engage Steve with a few probing blows. Shadowale also wades into the thick of things, stabbing wildly at the commander of the Sharn’s Silver Flame. The two remaining paladins slash at the party, and attempt to protect their commander, while Rhogar rallies Asmund, who blesses the party, and then moves to flank the attendants.

Steve abandons the spike for now, and swings his large blessed hammer at Shadowale landing a telling blow. Gnofulk tries to manhandle Steve, but fails, and finds himself handing one handed from the ledge instead, though Turnin is able to stand his ground and still help Gnofulk get the arm clutching his precious battle-axe up onto the ledge as well. Shadowale disengages from Steve, only to appear behind the paladins, ready to strike again. The paladins and Steve reply, landing blows and magical smites upon their foes, which manage to frighten Turnin and Rhogar.

Succumbing to fear, Rhogar abandons his training and relies on reptilian instinct, squatting down and belching at Steve and one of his attendants, momentarily engulfing them in a cone of devastating flame. Gnofulk scrambles back onto the ledge, and “squirrel-hugs” the dwarf before shifting weight and pitching him over the edge of the dam in an unwise but successful suplex attack. A Wilhelm Scream bursts from Steve’s lips as he, his blessed hammer, his shiny armor, and all his glittering (and probably magical) talismans and trinkets land in the lava below with a resounding, onomatopoeic *ploop*.

Asmund has found his blade, and shouts “Orders?” at the party, who sheepishly shrug at the towering paladin, as they had declined to take any of Blume’s sealed “time to call off the crusade” orders from earlier. Without the orders, the zealots cannot be swayed to surrender or stand down, and set about avenging their commander against impossible odds. One quickly falls to sharp blades, and the other is knocked off the dam by Asmund with a hearty kick.

Turnin asks what should be done about the spike, but Asmund replies that is not the concern of the party. It will soon be removed and the dam repaired. Without Steve to strike and activate it, the danger has passed for now.