Kelwyn’s expeditions uncovered many nefarious secrets around Thanhal. One such secret is a magical device that can slay diabolical fiends. Does this weapon exist? The infamous Righteous Defenders, who helped in its supposed creation, never used it. Discreet officials wish to acquire that weapon and use it to destroy the last remnants of the rising goblin forces. Do the Dungeon Knights dare to search for this dangerous device? (Part Four of the Kelwyn’s Keys series)
The town of Thanhal looms ahead as the Dungeon Knights travel the long road towards its gates. There’s a brisk breeze in the air and the clouds sail gently across the sky. The final hill gives way to a long gentle descent into the fertile fields around the town. At the town’s gates, there is a winding line of people, sheep, goats and food-laden wagons. Out of the other far gate is a line of dung-filled wagons leaving for distant fields. Getting into town is going to take a few minutes.
Gûltar’s mouth is dry from the dusty road and he longs for the welcome comforts of a tavern. He rushes the others to assume a better position in the line to pass through the front gate’s inspection. The locals know this gate as Wagon Gate, popular with incoming merchants and farmers. “How much longer is this gonna take?” mutters Gûltar.
After several minutes of idle waiting, the heroes are in reach the guard towers bracketing the town’s almost massive gates. A tired looking human in tarnished armor motions to the pair of peasants in front of the heroes. “C’mon you, move ahead.”
As Bandric reaches the front of the line, the guard lifts his writing tablet and quill. With a dreadful sigh, he orders, “What is thy name and business in Thanhal.”
The guardsman sergeant, called Saulo by his friends, waits for Bandric’s answer. “Well? I don’t have all day.”
“I am called Bandric, leader of the Dungeon Knights.” He motions to his friends. Kotyka sinks deeper into her heavy cloak and veil. Then she nuzzles further behind Chalándril. “We’re returning from a short trip across the river and a bit further that way.”
“Why do you have such a big weapon?” Sergeant Saulo asks looking at Gûltar’s weapon and motioning towards Bandric’s bow. “Are you doing any hunting or killing in town? Before you get cocky, the answer better be, no.”
“Well, uh.”
“You, dwarf fellow, why isn’t thine ax peace bonded?” snaps Saulo.
Gûltar’s face snarls. “I didn’t realize thou hast got rid of all thy criminals and…”
“Thou art a smart-ass? We don’t need those here. We’re all full.” He looks askance at his guardsmen. “…even in the watch. Why are you wearing all that armor? You expecting a war? This is a town, not a tournament or some battlefield.”
Chalándril speaks up. “Sir, we are highly trained warriors previously in the service of the Kelwyn Merchant House. Without these weapons, we would not be able to ply our trade nor defeat the monstrous goblins that plague the area.”
Sgt. Saulo rolls his eyes and again sighs. “All right. You’re good…” His sentence is cut short by the alarm horn above. A guard on the tower yells down to Saulo.
“Sergeant Saulo, several mounted units are heading this way. There are a lot of them. We’re under attack!” He continues to sound the alarm. Other horns sound from other towers along the wall. The peasant folk in line begin to panic.
Gûltar elbows Bandric, “And he wonders why I wear my armor.”
The folk in line begin to rush the gate, forcing their way into Thanhal. The guards start pulling people behind the gates. Sergeant Saulo yells, “All you scum! Now listen up. Make an orderly line. Hurry up. Ya’ll be coming in just do it orderly. You there, forget about yer cow. Leave it! Just get in here, now!”
The gates begin to close as the guards hurriedly prepare for combat. Dust from the arriving forces looms close. Indistinct yells and barking get closer and closer.
“By the gods!” Saulo exclaims, “We’re not going to get the gates closed in time. Can anyone help hold the line?” He looks over at Bandric’s well-armed group. “Time to earn another reference and prove you are caravan guards. Stall the riders a bit while we get these people behind the gates. For the good of Thanhal, they need your help.”
Saulo turns away to help the line of panicked commoners and peasants enter the city. “Orderly line! Orderly line! By the gods, are you daft? I said orderly line!”
Arrows from the battlements fly through the air, hitting several of the riders and their mounts as they come into view. Small, leather-armored green and yellow-skinned creatures atop savage looking wolves bolt towards the walls. They continue their advance, running in zig-zag formations to elude the arrows. Still, the arrows put down several riders and mounts.
Now that the invaders are closer, the heroes see the goblins are arranged in small units – spread out over the field. One squad of goblins is headed straight for the Wagon Gate. The largest of three goblins headed towards the gate dismounts and yells from the top of his lungs, “My name is Nashtuk Fen, you humans killed my brother. Prepare to die.”
“Gods how I hate goblins!” yells Gûltar as he drops the backpack and readies his ax. “The whole goblins riding wolves thing is getting really old.”
The goblin cleric Feleru Nhol, an obvious priest to the goblin gods, casts a spell to bless and empower his fellows. Tolok notifies his friends, “I believe that fellow yonder is a priest of some sort. We should disrupt his ability to heal and help our foes.”
With a nod, Tolok throws a fireball centered on Feleru and the other goblin forces. Just as the smoke clears, Merimonwë throws her own fireball onto the crowd of goblins. The charred remains of several goblins and their mounts fall to the ground, smoky steam rising from their ashen remains. However, a wounded Feleru remains standing atop a dead mount. The goblin yells something profane in his language.
About this time, Nashtuk Fen arrives at Gûltar’s position. His lance digs deep into the dwarf’s flesh. Undeterred, Gûltar grabs the lance with his left hand and strikes with his ax from the right. He, in turn, leaves a grave wound on Nashtuk. “This isn’t my first dance with you wolf riders.”
Nashtuk dismounts and draws another weapon. The dwarf and goblin warriors engage in a long melee, exchanging blows. Feleru is able to cast a spell and takes flight into the air. Bandric takes aim and unleashes a volley of arrows upon the goblin cleric. A bit out of her element, Kotyka locates her short bow and fires off a few shots. Finally, Feleru succumbs to the wounds and falls dead.
Chalándril continues to provide cover and protection to the last remaining peasants caught outside the town’s gates. The half-human spots Gûltar engaged with an agile goblin. Before she can render aid, Gûltar drives the pick end deep into the goblin’s skull. The dwarf lets out a rage-fueled scream, his eyes wild with fury.
As Bandric surveys the battlefield outside the town walls, he sees the goblin forces retreating by foot and paw. The skill and luck of the town’s archers won the safety of Thanhal from the marauding goblin horde. And Wagon Gate is well defended by the bravery of the Dungeon Knights. The Far Gate didn’t fare so well. A thick black plume of smoke rises from the burning gatehouse. A team of guards is pouring water and sand on the gate in hopes of dousing the flames.
Several guardsmen from atop the nearby walls cheer the success. “Huzzah! You beat back that goblin general. Thanks for your help adventurers. You stalled the goblins long enough for us to get the innocents to safety.” Sgt. Saulo says, “I owe each of you a drink.”
Gûltar wipes the blood off his ax. ‟Now that’s payment I will enjoy.”
The town gate opens once again. Some guards flood into the field to loot…er…capture any surviving enemy. Several other guards pat the Dungeon Knights on their backs as they walk into Thanhal. “Just tell the Bartender at the Dancing Dog I owe you a drink. He’ll put it on my tab.”
Thanhal’s main road is filled with screaming children and weeping women, the threat of death still looming close in their minds. Many of Thanhal’s citizens wander out of their homes and businesses to learn about the excitement and horn blowing. The side streets and merchant stalls are filled with the frantic murmuring of gossip.
A small gnome wearing black traveling clothes approaches. Standing to his right is a large “man” with an umbrella. The large man patiently holds the umbrella over the smaller man – keeping the sunlight from hitting his dark clothes. Both men are dressed smartly and wear wide-rimmed black hats. The gnome and his giant-like assistant both sport dark glasses. The two sulk up to the Dungeon Knights, looking around nervously for eavesdroppers.
When all appears safe, the small man leans forward pushing the glasses forward on his nose. He looks at Chalandril with a serious glare. “Yah, we saw yah. Real heroic type stuff, yah see. We like that. Don’t we Gurlg?” The gnome elbows the hulking Gurlg in the leg.
“We sure do, Boss. Really heroic stuff they did. Kill a lot’a goblins they did. One, five, two, uh ten. No? Hey Gamalek, what’s after one?”
Gamalek elbows Gurlg’s leg harder. “Never thee mind. Now, back to why we’z here. Yah see, we need someone to perform a dangerous mission. All covert like, yah see. We contacted this sage, yah see, who will explain all the details, see.”
Gamalek motions the heroes towards the Dancing Dog Tavern. They enter the building; the bustling energy of the lively drinks feels like a shockwave to the nervous emotions outside. A large man with disheveled robes and lots of books under his arm approaches. His goatee and mustache show signs of graying, but otherwise, he is in good spirits. “You there. Hello! My very good friends, it’s me, Professor Muskegum, recently transferred to the Guild out of Weirdlingspire.”
Awkwardly balancing his books on one raised knee, he reaches in his robe pocket with his now free hand. Pulling out a bit of jerky, he takes a bite. The books begin to wobble and he jerks to keep them in his arms. “Whew, that was close. Anyway, I am in need of your services. Actually, the Guild is in need of your services.” Tol looks over at Gamalek briefly. “Your reputation and recent gallantry have proved you to be of excellent quality…and resourcefulness.”
“Get to the mission, Professor. Ya see, we’re under a deadline. See.”
“Huh? Oh yes, the mission! My research in the dealings with Kelwyn has uncovered some startling news. It seems those Righteous Defenders, his father was their primary fighter-type, developed some sort of devil slaying weapon – or perhaps a devil debilitating device. The good news—I think it’s here in Thanhal!”
He takes a deep breath, “Their wizard, Fyodor, lived here in a house over in the High Quarter. A nice house and all but I can’t very well enter into a potentially trapped or magically protected building. Oh that wouldn’t do. I am ill prepared to defend myself – against doctrinal thesis yes, against potential magical traps no. The Guild would like to get that device and study it. The Wizards of Weirdlingspire may be able to replicate the device once they study it. That would make fighting fiends a whole lot easier for you adventuring types. Wouldn’t it?”
The professor straightens up. “I’m authorized to reward you 100 guilder pieces each for your efforts in securing this device.”
The little man butts in, “You’ll be saving lots of people, see, hero type stuff and getting paid. The professor forgot to mention, half up front and half upon delivery of the item.”
Chalándril thinks for a moment. “That sounds sufficient. Some way of developing a weapon against extra-planar fiends is good in my book.” The others in her team nod in agreement.
-
Following the directions to Fyodor’s house is no problem. In the nicer part of town, it is easy to find homes in the clean, well laid out blocks. The house is a three-story dwelling with a fine, yet dirty exterior. The windows look as if they haven’t been cleaned in years. A curious paper is posted on his front door. Tolok approaches, “The note is written in the local language. It says:”
“House for Sale. To be auctioned off at Potopinka’s Auction House. Next Moonday at Noon. All proceeds towards back taxes. Inquiries taken at Potopinka’s Auction House.”
The door is locked with a stout lock box. It has the official heraldry of Barony of Thanhal. The note is signed by Musulak Griffinhollow, Realtor.
Bandric thinks for a moment. “Maybe we can have Kotyka pick the lock and we can look for the magic device.
“Bandric!” reprimands Chalándril. “We’re in an urban location with laws and rules of conduct. This isn’t some dungeon. We’ll just visit Master Musulak and explain our purpose. I’m sure he’ll oblige us the opportunity to enter the house briefly.”
Gûltar’s eyebrow raises but he doesn’t say anything.
-
The well-dressed gnome is called Musulak Griffinhollow, of the Griffinhollows in the Tin Hills. He is a consummate professional and is highly regarded by the townsfolk for his fair dealings and good demeanor. When asked about the house, Musulak says, “The old Fyodor Estate. Hmm, sadly that is in arrears for back taxes and the owner hasn’t been seen in seven years…at least. According to Royal law, the estate can be sold by auction to pay taxes and fees.”
Merimonwë flutters her eyes and asks, “Could we have a quick look around the house? We need to pick something up from Fyodor for our client. Please.”
Musulak says, “That is not possible. Last week was the last time for potential buyers to do a walkthrough. You’d need an official order by the Town Council to gain access, or buy the house at the auction. There is absolutely no way to get inside otherwise.” Musulak smiles, “Would you like to register to become bidders for the auction? I can give you discount for being good friends of the previous owner.”
Chalándril breaks in, “Maybe speaking with the auctioneer would be a good idea. Where can we find this gentleman?”
-
A rather portly and rosy-cheeked man approaches dressed in a rabbit-fur vest and other poorly selected items of clothing. The fashion-challenged proprietor hails you. “Hello, my good friends, I am Potopinka, chief auctioneer, and merchant excellanté!”
“We’re here in regards to the Fyodor Estate. Is there any way you can delay or cancel the auction?”
“Oh, the Fyodor Estate. I see. That is scheduled for auction this coming Moonday. At noon I believe. We can not take it out of auction at this time because it has become an official matter due to the taxes and such.”
“Tolok suggests, “What if we offer to pay the outstanding taxes and other fees? Could you cancel the auction then?”
“The time to pay the taxes has long since passed. The town council has put it to auction. There is no way to take it out of auction now.” Potopinka feigns sympathy. Then he smiles. “Would you like to enter your name for the auction? You could pay the taxes and take possession of the property all at once.”
“We will think about it. We’ll keep in touch.”
-
Sitting together at a table in the quieter section of the tavern, the Dungeon Knights ponder their next move.
“Do we have enough money to buy the house?”
“Not with the pay we’re getting from the Guild.”
“What about talking the bidders into letting us loot the place before they take ownership of it. Or we could talk with them. Hmm.”
“We could convince the local watch to let us investigate the house for possible squatters or theft or something.”
“Or we could request a permit to bless the house and remove any maligned spirits. We just need to get in good with the local Temple.”
They all take a deep gulp from their mugs. Bandric off-handedly says, “My idea about breaking in seems the best idea so far.”
“No, we can’t do it. Not where other citizens can see us.”
Kotyka’s eyes light up. “Can’t break in? Let’s enter through the sewers. All these fancy houses have a personal line to the sewers.”
-
Bandric says to himself, “This seems really familiar. Like I’ve been here doing this before.”
Gûltar snaps, “Dungeon, sewers, it’s all the same after awhile. Now focus on what you’re doing.”
Kotyka quips, ‟We have done this before in these sewers.”
Bandric stops suddenly. “I hear something.”
Merimonwë’s ears perk up. “I hear it too.”
The ranger redirects the lantern light down the sewer tunnel. A float crocodile glides towards their location. “I didn’t think there really was a crocodile in the sewers. At least not since our last encounter.” Scoffs Bandric. [Issue 004]
Merimonwë says, “We don’t have time for this!” She casts a sleep spell on the crocodile. The scaled body begins to drift deeper into the water until it finally disappears.
The Dungeon Knights continue down the sewer until they reach the approximate location of Fyodor’s estate. Gûltar looks around. “Aye, this should be the place.”
Kotyka lowers her goggles and looks around. She finds a well-concealed door in a recessed alcove. Looking around for traps, she fails to locate any. “The door appears to be locked.” The half-orc retrieves her lock pick set and begins work in earnest.
The door suddenly slams into her and quickly closes. “What the…” yells Bandric.
Kotyka gets up, slightly stunned by the sudden hit. “I don’t know what…” The door quickly opens again and slams into Kotyka. She falls unconscious.
Before anyone can grab the door handle, the door slams shut. A mouth on the door appears and says, “Do not enter. This house is protected by the great and powerful Fyodor. This is your last warning.”
Merimonwë and Bandric reach over and grab the limp body of Kotyka. They pull her to safety. Tolok says, “I could cast a spell to unlock the door but I think something else is at work here.”
“Aye, I know what it is!” retorts Gûltar. “This is a magical door and I have a dwarven key for wooden doors.”
The dwarf spins his ax around and drives the pick end deep into the door. The metal pick digs deep into the wood. Pinned, the door begins to shake attempting to open itself. Gûltar wiggles the pick creating cracks in the wood. Finally, he pulls the pick out. The door opens suddenly and then begins to close. Gûltar turns his ax around and swings the ax head through the door. The wooden door splits in two and stops moving.
“Steel trumps magic. It’s an old Dwarven saying.”
As the Dungeon Knights make their way into the house, the musty air and thick dust rise with every step. They reach the main hall and enter into the house from the cellar stairway. Looking around, they see table and chairs fallen over. Progressing further into the house, they spot small, decayed bodies of rats and other vermin littered all over the floor. Some are tucked into little makeshift nests while the bodies seem to leave a trail into other rooms.
The thick, cloth curtains are closed. Chalándril opens one of the curtains. Beams of light pierce the darkness like dusty knives. The old furniture looks nice but neglected. The colors are red velvet, brightly colored tapestries, and darkly stained wood tables. Overall, this is a respectable house for a wizard.
In the study, the room seems more in shambles than usual. It also has more than its fair share of rat and vermin skeletons. There are also old piles of excrement near the walls and next to overturned wardrobes. Bandric kicks one of the tiny mouse skeletons. It hits the far wall, landing with a thud. It rights itself and starts scurrying towards the group.
“Oh no it didn’t!” screams Bandric. “These stupid mice aren’t dead, they’re undead.”
As the others turn to see what Bandric is screaming about, a flood of decayed skeletal mice swarm in from the next room. Like a dark wave of death, they scamper on the walls, floor, and ceiling.
Without waiting for an invitation, Chalándril acts. “By the sacred names of the Goddess and the God, begone ye vermin of undeath, ye mockery of nature.”
A bright wave of light bursts from her body; passing over the skeletons like a tide. The dead bodies once again fall lifeless to the ground. Gûltar crushes one under his boot.
“We should go upstairs.”
As Kotyaka opens the door, she sees tables with glass beakers and jars filled with viscous goo. An ornate bookcase leans against the far wall. The room houses many books and scrolls. An odd assortment of bestial skulls and preserved monster parts sit in sorted bins and cupboards. This looks like some sort of mystic library or arcane laboratory. A large bluish-green blanket covers a very tall, thin piece of furniture. Everything here is coated with a thick layer of dust. The air in this room is stale and musty. It seems no one has used this room in years.
Kotyka removes the blanket to expose a large object, a full-length mirror. The base is ornately crafted of fine brass. The mirror is large and well polished. Inside the mirror, a figure of a man covers his face from the sudden exposure to light.
“Ahhgg! What’s that?” He stammers. “You thieves get out of here or I will smite you with my magic!”
Merimonwë walks up to the mirror. “What and who art thou?”
“I’m warning thee. Begone thieves!”
“We’re not thieves. We’re adventurers and where here to retrieve a weapon to fight fiends.”
“Oh, I am quite grateful for that fact. Whew. I’m actually trapped in this mirror. I don’t see Master Fyodor. Is he with thee? Did he send thee?
Tolok approaches, “Sir, Master Fyodor is presumed dead. He has not been here for over seven years.”
“What? He’s dead? Oh dear no. Who will get me out of here?” He cries.
Soon the Mirror Man regains his composure and says, “My name is Varush, chief apprentice to Master Fyodor. How may I help you?”
Chalándril replies, “Well met Varush. Perhaps we can help each other. How did you get into the mirror?”
“That was an accident. While waiting for Fyodor to return, I was toying with some new spells and didn’t understand the arcane force I activated. The spell’s failure sucked me into this mirror.”
“How do we get you out of the mirror?”
“I really don’t know. I hoped my master would be able to help.”
Chalándril looks over at Tolok. “We’ll pool our resources and figure out a way to release you. Give us a little while to determine possible solutions. What is Fyodor’s secret weapon?”
“The Crystal Heart. It’s an astral diamond cut into a multifaceted heart-shaped gemstone. It is masterfully crafted to be a magical focus, a weapon against devils. You must pour a devil’s blood onto the crystal. The evil blood is absorbed into the center of the crystal. At that point, it is ready for use. Simply being in the area of the Crystal Heart will weaken devils. It saps some of their natural planar traits making them easier to kill. However, getting the blood in the first place has proved to be the devices weakness.”
“I see,” replies Chalándril. “Who are the Righteous Defenders?”
“The Righteous Defenders are five seasoned warriors, Kralis of Chulon, the party’s warrior, Aron Thul the Devilslayer, a man who hates devils and was the group’s leader, Beromand the Pious, their priest and healer, Tythis Truthteller, the party’s paladin, and Fyodor, the party’s wizard and arcane specialist. They were quite good at what they did. Sadly, most of them died during a fight with a tricky devil and his goblin associates.”
“Do you know Kelwyn?”
“No. Oh wait, I think Kralis had a young son named Kelwyn. Is that who you’re talking about?”
“Yes, we met him a few months ago.” Chalándril looks at her companions. “Now at least we know what to look for, this crystal heart. Do you know where Fyodor hid the crystal heart?”
Varush answers, “No, I do not.”
Chalándril and Tolok discuss their options. Finally, they approach the magic mirror and inform the apprentice how they’ll remove him from the mirror. After a long incantation and ritualistic procedures, the young man is drawn from the mirror and stands next to his rescuers.
“Thank you so much.”
Gûltar nudges him, “Now just stay out of trouble and don’t play with alchemy or spells unless you know what you’re doing.”
‟Yes sir, master Dwarf. Yes, sir.” replies Varush.
-
The top floor of the house is a greenhouse for Fyodor’s garden. Large, glass windows allow light into the greenhouse. An automatic, clockwork watering system keeps them watered. The flowers and plants seem unusually large for such a small, rooftop garden. The heroes and Varush walk out of the stairwell onto the roof.
The overgrown planters and containers are ripe with verdant vegetation. Their approach causes an ear-piercing sound. The heroes all cover their ears and move away from the sound. Bandric points towards Varush, “Varush, that big fungus plant. I think it’s emitting the sound. Smash it!” yells Bandric.
Varush moves into the vegetation with a big stick. “Ow, I pricked my leg on these other pointy fungi. It really hurts…” The young human collapses into the fungus patch.
“Damn!”
Gûltar and Kotyka run over to retrieve Varush. Merimonwë yells, “Look out!”
A long vine reaches down and snatches the completely robed figure of Kotyka, pulling her up into the rafters. Gûltar yells, “I can’t reach her. I’ll finish off these blaring toadstools, the rest of you kill that plant thing.”
The dwarf commences with weeding the garden using his mighty ax. Tolok exclaims, “If I use a spell, Kotyka will be caught in the area of effect.”
“It’s hard for me to aim too. She keeps struggling and moving around. We need to find the base stalk or trunk. Then we can attack that.”
With a wriggle, Kotyka cuts herself out of her robes. Her black-skinned form drops to the ground. “I’m free.”
Merimonwë and Tolok smile at each other. Two fireballs explode at the far end of the greenhouse sending scorching flames up to the edge of the garden. Bandric fires his arrows but is picked up by another vine. Merimonwë and Kotyka grab his legs trying to keep him on the ground.
“Do I have to kill everything myself?” grumbles Gûltar. He races over to a soot-covered trunk and hews a large chunk out of the vine’s body. A few more strikes and the assassin vine goes limp.
“Where’s Varush?”
They find his lifeless body strangled and poisoned among the hacked up fungi. “I think he was safer in the mirror.” chimes Bandric.
In the far corner of the penthouse garden is a tool shed. Inside there are racks of gardening equipment, broken chairs from the dining room, a crystal mobile wind chime, sacks of soil and pruning shears. Tolok concentrates and detects for magic. Within seconds, he determines where the magical crystal heart is located. With great care, Kotyka removes the Crystal Heart from the crystal mobile wind chime.
The Dungeon Knights return the Crystal Heart to Gamalek and Professor Tol. At least now this potent weapon can be used by people more powerful and capable than the Dungeon Knights.
-
A decade or so ago:
A goblin lord meets with Yuughathroth Nefkar in a large shrine. They discuss things at great length. A female goblin sentry interrupts their meeting. She points over to an area beyond the open where noise is brewing. Both the goblin lord and devil look over to where she points. A large explosion erupts from that location sending goblin bodies raining down near Lagoch and Yuughathroth. Other goblins including the robed Ithayek arrive from the depths of the shrine to lend aid.
The Righteous Defenders, a band of humans, appear from the dispersing smoke, enter the shrine and begin to fight Lagoch and Yuughathroth. Lagoch opens a portal on the wall using his magic. Ithayek and the other goblin mystics help force the humans into the undulating portal. Yuughathroth is caught in the assault and is pushed into the portal. The wizard Fyodor is left outside the wall portal. He casts a spell causing the gateway to shut. The portal winks out of existence.
The remaining goblin mystics are enraged. They scream, yell and gnash their teeth in anger. Their beady little eyes turn to Fyodor. The eyes are filled with malice and hate. Before they can kill the human, Fyodor casts his teleport spell.
Later that day, Lagoch and Ithayek are talking in the breeding hutch. Lagoch says in the goblin tongue, “Enough of the women are pregnant. It’s not a total loss. Our plans may still work out.”
Lagoch looks at Ithayek sternly. “I have another project for you. You need to locate and recover a monster with unusual properties, the Harbinger of Doom.” He hands Ithayek a whistle to control the unique monster. “The beast is not of this world but it is just a beast. Use great care when releasing it from its prison; it may not distinguish friends from foes. It will, however, provide us with a great advantage. Use this whistle to control it.”
Ithayek takes the whistle. Though his hood hangs low over his face, a toothy smile is visible.
-
Who will use the powerful Heart against the foul enemies? What will the Dungeon Knights do now? Find out next issue.
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Location: Thanhal, a walled town along the river
Dungeon Knight Roster:
Bandric (Human Ranger 6)
Chalándril (Half-human Cleric 6)
Gûltar (Dwarf Fighter 6)
Kotyka (Half-orc Rogue 6)
Merimonwë (Elf Sorcerer 6)
Tolok (Gnome Wizard/Conjurist 6)
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“This guy needs a new housekeeper…and an exterminator.”– Bandric
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This adventure is based on one I was writing for Living Greyhawk, but this module was canceled so I could write the final installment before the campaign ended. Sadly, no one officially played in this adventure.
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