Murder Hobos of the Apocalypse

Off to Red Larch
  • Back in the Dessaryn Valley, Bort and Alvyn are SAADDDD.

    • Alvyn lost his mother….AGAIN.
    • Bort never got to tell Devyn how much he meant to him
    • Also……Aethazar died.
  • Back at Connie’s Mansion, we discover the following:

    • Connie is unconscious! (sad)
    • Devyn’s mother’s gem is now the only thing protecting the Manor from the harsh living conditions of the Valley
  • Bort grieves silently…..until he encounters a new player in town – <u>Lucien (A Bard)</u>
  • Alvyn meets (and is seriously creeped out by) <u>Justin (Disfigured Druid)</u>
  • Fehraz attempts to assert his power, but is (hopefully?) quelled by Bort and Alvyn
  • A plan of action forms between all parties – someone must travel to Red Larch and retrieve information about just HOW Tiarbasil is floating there (Alvyn, Bort, and Justin volunteer)

    • Bort bargains with Julien about something……reviving Devyn???


  • God damn is it hot out there
  • Justin and Julien prove their worth to the party while our heroes encounter some brutal enemies:

    • #$%^&ing Umber Hulks
    • Some lousy Water Deep Guards who just don’t want to rescue an old lady
    • A deranged Fire cultists with 2 Meffits
    • “The Mighty” from WaterDeep

      • Who are they?
      • How are they so mighty?
      • What are they doing here?

All good questions which will have to be answered in our next session….for we retire in Leoman’s Tiny Hut!

Bort's Plea
....bring him back

The evening sky illuminated the manor as the haggard crowd of gawking survivors shuffled through the portal, the grounds brought to life by the clamor of delirious squawking birds and the curses of the manor inhabitants struggling to sort them. As the menagerie of Aarakoa filtered through the portal, a towering silver mass covered in more viscera than clothing broke away from the group. Accompanying the mass was a figure no bigger than a child, both of them pausing as soon as enough distance had been put between them and the cacophony. The smaller figure collapsed to his knees, the discipline so carefully holding his emotions at bay finally crumbling, exhaustion and grief and loss dragging him to the earth. The silver mass stopped as if to console the small figure but then shuffled away, its own face haunted, it's gaze unfocused.

It wandered through the manor grounds seemingly drawn somewhere, the inhabitants giving wide berth to the creature as it found its way to the hedge garden, a place accommodating the activities of varied types of residents seeking shelter. There, in a lit section of the garden, the waning light shown upon a surprisingly large collection of makeshift shrines that had been laid out between the trees and hedges to many of the good and justly gods, a well lit place of worship where those of faith could come to give thanks or seek guidance and comfort from the deity of their choosing.

There were a few the creature recognized from his time with his parents, devout druids themselves although he had never thought much of the higher powers: A bronze medal depicting a unicorn, Mielekki, a carved oak leaf for Silvanus, several other small trinkets to lesser forest and nature deities. But for every trinket he recognized there were somehow two he did not: An old left handed gauntlet with what looked like a staring glass eye, a doll bound at the wrists with red cord, an intricate wire triangle of six pointed stars. He made his way through the makeshift temples to gods and demigods until he found it, more instinct than memory letting him know that this was the one: an old hammer with a small brass scale on top, perfectly balanced in the shade of a large fruit bearing tree. It was near the end of the manor grounds, the plants and earth just a few feet away shriveling and dying, devoid of any of the life the delicate tree nearby seemed to flourish in.

He hid his bulk in the shadow of the tree, unsheathing his great axe, the stained silvered blade's appearance a reflection of his gore splattered scales. He gently lowered the blade to the ground and allowed the haft of the weapon to lean against his shoulder as he had when he first began preparation for his oath. Alone in the field of shrines, he sank to his knees in front of the symbol and remained there, staring at it, quietly balancing his thoughts in the scale. Then he did something he had not done earnestly since before he had left his home as a child. His eyes became unfocused, looking into the past as he tried to speak to the gods.

"…Until I entered this valley I had never picked a fight I couldn't win," he paused before correcting, "That I didn't 'think' I couldn't win…But, then I came here, and met him. And began the fight for this valley. And I realized that, win or lose, there was no reason to fight unless after it there was something to look forward to."

He struggled for a moment with his next words before allowing himself to emit them.

"…I…have not been perfect since I've been here," he began, the mumbled words each picked with care. "I've fought for the wrong reasons, but always for what I thought was the right cause," he looked up over the shrines, his eyes focused and accusing, "For your cause. Like he does. Like he did."

He brought his gaze back to the shrine closest to him. "My mother told me to never ask more of the gods than what you need, and the gods will never take more than you can give." His eyes focused and narrowed.

"Ever since I left them I have asked you for nothing and our arrangement has been sound. Even as we do your work here, I ask you for nothing, and I have NEVER worked for anyone, god or mortal, for free."

His eyes hardened and his scaled lips peeled into a snarl. "But now, you take him, from us? From me? Someone you sent to do your job?" He was leaning forward now, the last words spat with such fervor that frothing ice began to form at the corners of his maw, his eyes wild. Before his fury consumed him his eyes slowly closed, his face becoming blank, passive; the rage not gone but tightly controlled as he had done a hundred times before. He opened his eyes, no longer wild, and his next words he spoke as if to a gathered crowd, his eyes scanning the scattered shrines before him.

"I do not know which of you took him, or why, and I do not ask for this in payment, as my actions have been mine and mine alone. But if one of you can return him, I will swear whatever oath you need. I will give my life for your cause, bring glory to your name, gather followers, banish evil, perform ritual sacrifice, organize song and dance competitions, whatever it is you ask of me. As long as you bring him back to me. As long as you allow me to do it beside him."

"Because if we are truly sent to fulfill your will, we will need him back," his eyes closing.

"…I need him back," he whispered.He grudgingly bowed his head in a gesture of subservience and, in a voice barely even a whisper, uttered


His will broken, his pride laid low, his soul bared before the gods, he remained bowed like that for a time. Perhaps considering his next words, perhaps to underline the desperation of his plea, and perhaps waiting for a reply. But as the shadows stretched across the garden, no answers came to him.

The sun setting, he unbowed his head, and slowly got to his feet, eyes still closed in thought. He grabbed his axe, sheathed it, and with a weary sigh, set off back toward the manor. As he began to walk away, he opened his eyes revealing them to be harder than silvered scales and colder than the ice at his lips, a slight gleam of madness and desperation flickering in them. His next words were prepared in a fashion more suited to his demeanor and though he spoke them with vigor he did so quietly to himself and away from the shrines, not willing to jeopardize his request by mocking gods.

"I realize you gods work in mysterious ways, that your will here is not always predictable, that you limit to your involvement in the lives of us mere mortals." He sneered, "But if any of you do care, if for some reason you cannot or will not fulfill this request," his frozen gaze left the shrines of the manor and looked out over the landscape desecrated by beings of evil and power.

"I will find gods who can."

Devyn's Final Breath
Arakoa Battle - Plane of Air

Devyn’s Final Breath

Devyn coughed as he inhaled the dust and debris that permeated the air from the battle that raged all around him. He lay prone on the battlefield, too weak to move and slowly bleeding out from the multiple wounds that peppered his body. He knew this was the end for him. He could feel the life slowly draining from his body, and while he did not necessarily fear death, he had never imagined that he would find his end on this cold and desolate plane. His greatest regret was failing his friends, and his final wish was that they and the fleeing arakkoa would reach safety before the line of defense was broken. Tears fell from Devyn’s eyes, rolling down his cheek and settling in the dry dirt beneath his face. With the last of his quickly fading energy, Devyn attempted to turn his face to assess the progress of the migration through the portal, but impending death had made even this simple act impossible. His strength had failed and his time had come; however, the magic and energy that smoldered within him continued to churn and resonate, oscillating to an almost fevered pitch.

Devyn’s vision began to blur and fade. He was no longer able to form any coherent thoughts; however, memories of his life raced through his dying mind like a stampede. And in the background, like the rhythmic crashing of waves, the magic within him thrummed, growing more intense with each cycle.

He felt the joy and excitement from the day he first met Jaydon; he reveled in love when they had shared their first kiss, and he wallowed in overwhelming sorrow upon learning that his father had arranged his murder.

Thrum, Thrum

He also saw his new friends, the friends that had taught him to move passed his despair and desire for vengeance, teaching him to live again. He saw tiny Alvyn whose gentle kindness and genuine compassion had taught Devyn to protect those who needed it most.

Thrum, Thrum

He saw eccentric Robbie whose unpredictable nature had solved many problems through ingenuity and instinct, and whose death had left a lasting scar on Devyn that had never truly healed.

Thrum, Thrum

And, he saw Bort. The gruff dragonborn had interfered with many of Devyn’s romantic attempts; however, despite the adversarial way that Bort had interacted with Devyn, there had been a subtle underlying tenderness in his actions that Devyn had always cherished.

Thrum, Thrum

And, finally, there was a memory that had been the single most important event of Devyn’s life. Devyn saw the day that he had sought vengeance on his father, and his powers had awakened, exploding in a conflagration of light and fire that had almost incinerated his father’s study.

Thrum, Thrum

Devyn’s breath began to grow ragged under the auspices of his most important memories. As his chest stilled and his eyes glazed to the sightless gaze of death, the magic within him continued to burn more intensely as though it wailed in despair that the culmination of Devyn’s full potential had never been realized.

Devyn wandered alone in the darkness, confused and uncertain. He felt as though he needed to go somewhere, but he could not find his way in the darkness. He knew he was dead, and he could feel his spirit being beckoned by a warm familiar presence. But the cold and lonely nothingness that engulfed everything prevented him from finding that harbor of safety that called to him. Furthermore, the magic within him continued to beg for release, growing more intense with each moment. But something about this plane was holding it back, as though he was cut off from his natural state. As he continued to wander, he became increasingly panicked and frantic, terrified that he would spend eternity trapped in this formless abyss. Suddenly, when it appeared that all hope was lost, he felt a warm and loving hand grasp his and lead him gently forward. Looking down, he could see that he was grasping nothing, but he could feel it. The touch of this hand was enough to quell Devyn’s fear and anxiety, and he allowed himself to be led unquestioningly to a portal of glowing light.

As he entered the portal, he felt as though his spirit began to race through a streaming tunnel of glowing energy. The magic of the portal seemed to tear at him, exciting and accelerating the magic already singing loudly within his soul. Finally, as the fire within him reached its long awaited crescendo, radiant light burst forth from him, searing him to his core. The dull shell had finally been burned away, and his true self now shone like the sun, an embodiment of light and fire. As he approached the light that signaled the exit to the magical corridor between worlds, he was surprised to see that his path was about to intersect with another. As the two streams crossed, time seemed to slow, and Bort floated before him. Devyn did not understand how this was possible; perhaps the hand leading him had brought him to Bort, or perhaps it was a gift from the gods. Regardless, it gave him an opportunity to say a final farewell to his friends.

Devyn locked eyes with Bort. Given his recent transformation, Devyn had no idea how he appeared to the dragonborn, and he was unable to determine if there was any recognition on his scaly face. Devyn said, “Bort, it’s me, Devyn.” To his surprise, he was speaking in Celestial. Perhaps due to the trauma of death or his recent transformation, he was a bit disoriented and speaking in Celestial just seemed more natural. Despite his best efforts, he could not form words in the Common tongue. Undeterred, he pressed on, hoping that somehow Bort would understand him.

“I get it now, and I’m ok. I let my anger and hate rule me for so long, and it was destroying me. But, because of you…and Alvyn and Robbie…you saved me. You showed me how to live again. I think without you, my hate would have consumed me. But now, because of the good you brought out in me, I think I’m finally who I was meant to be.”

He continued to study Bort’s face, but there was still no indication that he understood anything he said. To be fair, though, a look of incomprehension was not a look foreign to Bort. Devyn pressed on, as he could feel that his time was waning.

“Don’t be sad for me. I think I’ll finally be able to find the happiness and peace I’ve wanted for so long. Tell Alvyn…that I’ll miss him…and that I know he’ll do great things. He’s stronger then he knows. I’ve always seen it, and I hope that one day he’ll see it too. And you, Bort…”

Devyn reached out his hand and placed it on Bort’s cheek, the light radiating from it bathing his face in a warm glow. “I’ll miss you too, perhaps more than I should admit. As much as you fight it, I see a goodness in you, a desire to help others that you try to suppress. Let it out, Bort. Allow yourself to do the good I know you are meant to.”

He suddenly felt a huge pang of sadness and regret. “I’m sorry…sorry that I failed you and Alvyn…Sorry that I’m leaving so much for you to do. But…but even if I’m not there with you…physically, I mean…know that I’m still with you…I’ll always be with you…”

Suddenly, time began to return to normal, and slowly, he felt a force pulling at him, drawing his hand away from Bort’s cheek. As he and Bort were drawn away from each other, he said, “Good bye, Bort. I’ll tell Robbie you said hi.” Devyn began to accelerate again through the magical conduit, but he knew that, unlike Bort, he would not arrive back in the Dessarin Valley. He began to see a light at the end of the tunnel; however, he had no idea where this path was leading him. He felt a sense of joy and relief as he saw a figure waiting to greet him, an elegantly dressed elven woman. As he emerged from the portal to stand before her, he suddenly realized that he could now see as well as feel the hand that had been guiding him. Jaydon stood before him, squeezing his hand a bit tighter now that he realized Devyn could see him. Devyn embraced them both, feeling a joy and peace he had not felt his whole life. He was finally home.


with...Galen? Devyn? I forget

- Connie transports us to Summit Hall. 
- Arrive just in time for battle to start. 
- Devastation Orb causes massive earthquake, which decimates Summit Hall
- Alvyn strikes final blow to Earth Mage wielding Devastation Orb; 
- Party stays the night (Knights of Samular are crippled, but alive; forever in party's debt). 
- Galen reaches PC status (level 6!)  
- Devyn un-petrified! 
- Party convinces Knights of Samular to move to Connie's mansion. 

- A harsh cold winter seems to have fallen over the Dessarin Valley.


- "Bruldenthar" (dwarf woman!) informs party of Caravan's mission and party: 
    - Desseyna (human) a HARSH 
    - Teresiel (Elf woman) 
    - Bruldenthar (dwarf)
    - Rhundorth (??) 
    – Caravan party formed when Salakk (aarkocra) emerged from hiding and asked for help at Waterdeep of all parties: Harpers, Lords' Alliance, Emerald Enclave. 
    – Caravan party discovered an excavation in the middle of the valley that led to Tyar-Besil (Lost City); party was captured. 
    – No idea why Samular's grave is at the Earth Monastery. 
- Suddenly – Connie, Kiana, and all magic users feel an unbalance in "the force" – we see two giant shining forces of light emerge from the Earth & Fire Temples. 

HERE IS THE DIFFICULT DECISION: Connie scrys & tells us earth monastery is going to destroy Summit Hall, Fire Temple is going to destroy the High Forest Druids. 
- We vote to go to Summit Hall.

Earth Temple first

- Spoke to Connie from HR. She gave us 8 silence scrolls to help us on our quest + teleportation scrolls + scroll of sending
- According to Connie, the elemental cults are taking up residents in the ancient, underground city of Tyar-Besil (sp?? [FTFY. —DM]), serving their respective elemental prince.
- Each Elemental prince requires a tether to the remain in this world. Destroy tether and eliminate their ability to remain in this world

- Quickly discovered by Earth Monks (Natural 1)
- Managed to sneak up through a garden balcony – defeated gargoyles and guards alike. 
- Fought & defeated blind Monk woman  

- Found casket that once held body of Samular (Tanner), now empty – fought Ghouls
   In life, Tanner was Samular Caradoon, brother of Renwick and founder of the knights of Samular
- Discovered dwarven delegate of Caravan + Galen 
- Devin's father (Anton – <s>half-elf</s> human Cleric) + Devin's half-brothers are in cahoots with Qarbo. 
    - Devin is petrified; party without a primary caster (Robbie standing in)
    - Galen joined party (5th level Fighter) 
- Fought Grylls [Grylls? -DM], Basilisks, Umberhulks (of the Underdark – why are they here?) 
- Rescued seventeen prisoners from Earth Monastery -
found a teleportation circle & transported everyone back to the Mansion. 

pretty sure this was more than one session, but whatevs

- BORT RETURNS – AS A DRAGON! (costs us $100,000 GP)

……..also Robbie becomes a Druid. 

- As payment for teaching Robbie to be a druid / saving Bort's life, party was asked to investigate "The Tower of the Scarlet Moon". Rumor has it there are druids there. 
- Lots of people are camped out at the base of the tower, heard great things about the Fire Druid (he can restore balance!) 
- Conjured Water Elemental ("Shelly from Benefits")
    - This enraged a lot of the guards at the Tower
    - shouted "Shatterkeel! 
- Rite of the Wiccar Giant: establish balance, bring back those who are lost
- Vision seen in fire with druids outside tower, “Broad shoulders, skin the color of a dying sun, hands holding back the door.”
- Stated at entrance to Fire Tower, “Water Elemental! Shatterkeel is done waiting! To arms!”
- Met Imex, senile / crazy Fire mage – who charmed Alvyn & made him descend into the tunnels below the tower (was this why so many ppl camped out there?) 

- After freeing Alvyn of Imex's charms, fire tower explodes. 

BACK TO SUMMIT HILL (Birthplace of Samular) 
- Party recuperates. 
- Bort becomes a Paladin! 
- Robbie's sword becomes uncursed!

Bort AND Tanner died....!

- We got lost in this forest for two weeks 
- Encountered human loggers 
- Tanner died saving us from a Regenerating Troll. :-(    :-(    :'-( 
- Enountered & rescued a Trent (captured by the human loggers we met earlier….who had turned mad!).  We named him "Trent". 
        In thanks, he gave us two mini-Trents. 
- Finally encountered Nuvreem (Dragon) & slayed her (with Connie from HR's help) 
    - Robbie got a cursed blade 
    - Bort died. :-( 
    - Connie from HR / mini-Trent directed us to the High Forest, where we begged the Druids to revive him.  Came back as a SILVER DRAGON

Fighting a little Elf-girl and her Dragon Nanny

- Connie's Mansion was pretty deserted; we couldn't even find out way in until we solved the puzzle/riddle about the Ravens (anyone remember what it was?) to discover the hidden entrance. 
- We met & "fought" Kiana after uncovering another secret door (which Mollie managed to find before us!) 
- Pretty sure Kiana would've beat us if not for Umsharyyath (aka "Connie from HR") 

- We learned that Thurl & Kiana are brother / sister; descendants of the Avariel (winged Elves). 
    -"Connie" explained that Thurl turned to evil prince of Air to regain that power; said she could help us if we completed a task for her (destroy the dragon who rules Kryptgarden Forrest)

- Random Encounter! Tanner (magical suit of armor who could fight / talk)

Back...with a vengeance

- Recuperated. 
- Alvyn stored his Hippogryph egg for safekeeping with a nice old man…..and a giant Ogre. 
- For some reason (we were attacked?), Bort destroyed part of the gate protecting Red Larch; the citizens deemed us 'not safe' and banished us. #ThanksBort

- The Spire was suspiciously empty by the time we got back to it - until we discovered that it was part of a trap that they set for us. 
- Thanks to Devyn, we TALKED our way out of being slaughtered by the Spire. Met Thurl & his general, Savra (human female) 
- One of Thurl's mages (& Robbie) cured Bort of Qarbo's tracking spell / curse… PUSHING HIM OFF THE LEDGE OF THE SPIRE TO FALL TO HIS DEATH. (I guess that's the only way to cure a tracking spell?) 
- Thurl's last "helpful" piece of advice was to tell our heroes to seek the aid of "someone who might be able to help" at a Mansion owned by his family. #ConniefromHR!


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