D&D Act Two Scene I - Places to go
Long ago two empires fought a magical war, destroying eachother. In the changed world that followed arose the city of Soetrard.
A group of adventurers has set out from Soetrard on a mission from Askit, a Cleric of the city's patron god Soet, to retrieve the blood of a god from an ancient tower. Journeying first to Thurmunton they mingled with the local townsfolk before unearthing the tomb of Tumuz and a temple to Soet beneath.
The temple, it turned out, in fact housed an aspect of Soet. The group eventually thwarted the god and escaped with some goods, but not before one of them died only to rise again as a vampire.
They then found their way to Dwarrowtown, a dwarven city beneath the massive Sanderjarn mountain. Here they learned of an ancient cult atop the mountain and hiked the slopes to stop it. They faced many hardships, including an avalanche on their ascent.
Reaching the top, they found a hunting lodge for all the villages that used to exist along the mountain's slopes. The hunting lodge sat over the cult's headquarters. The cult itself turned out to be an older form of Askit's cult. The Cleric was there in person, eager to make another being like himself, for the other Clerics of Soet had long turned mindless, mere puppets of the god. He attempted to use a homegrown lesser god, the Mother, for this task, but was killed by the party. This caused the dead to rise, killing and zombifying a former team mate.
Later the party delved deeper and found within the tombs of the rulers of Kyrtin, one of the Ancient Empires, but the kings of Kyrtin are not forgiving, two of their number fell. They escaped with treasures, back to Dwarrowtown. The tower with the blood would have to wait and the wrecklands in which it is located. They remain in Dwarrowtown, which is where we find them now.....
A few days pass in Dwarrowtown at the base of Sanderjarn.
Ekbard spends the while teaching the dwarfs how to handle a sword during the day and drinking ale by night. The stay-at-home dwarves are fascinated and frightened by his tales of the sea and his recent adventures.
Moy the Cleric spreads the good word of Nír, manages a few converts among the notoriously stubborn dwarves. More than a few are impressed by his Clerical knowledge of evil creatures and how to deal with them. Handy for the deeper dwarven tunnels.
Goodie managed to come down the mountain after a day, speeding into Dwarrowtown so fast the guards barely got a look. At the local tavern the dwarves wheel out an aiming board for him each night, he hits the bullseye every time.
Othegre has learned to control her vampirism better and discovers deeper talents given to her by her undead state.
BandyLegs the dwarf, now a hulking contruction representing the pinnacle of the dwarf race's mastery of steel and flesh, spent the early days getting used to his new body. Arms and Legs outfitted once more and his ears replaced, the new form is not as subtle as flesh, but stronger.
BandyLegs is called before the Master's council:
"Cleric McGillicuddy, I believe you know our guest?"
BandyLegs turns to see Citra in human form.
"Hello dwarf, can you explain this?"
She hands him a later from far beyond Zassan. A letter detailing a civil war in the kingdom of Osinzir. Somehow word has reached them of their princess's death and rival factions have used this to seize upon the royal family. They have turned to Citra to find them aid in this pressing time.
"Xanthea and her family have been good to me. You help them out of this situation or I will burn you alive within that tin can of a body!!"
The masters gulp.
"Further more, I think you are a bit more aware of Soet now, perhaps some comprehension of the danger the city and my children are in, eh? We need to get into that tower. Ursula, the former owner, is buried in Osinzir. I suggest you get to her tomb."
BandyLegs's head reels at the implications. They'll have to journey to Zassan and then beyond to Osinzir.
"A member of her family is coming here to meet you. I've arranged it"
Citra leaves, with a message for another.
Othegre is practicing wall walking when Citra enters her tavern room:
"Cleric, a letter, I am an arachnophile myself. I am aware of their 'deeper' connection to the world and I know of your Simon and the truth of what he is. I came across this."
She hands Othegre an issue of a crypto-archnology journal, specialising in magic or supernatural eight-legged creatures. A female of Simon's species has been found. They would form the last mating pair of Arachnus Urnoosis in the world. She is to be auctioned in the beast pits of Zassan.
Moy the Cleric:
Moy is telling the dwarven children about Nír when he receives a vision. The temple at Zassan under attack. Brother Tyrs in grave peril. He thanks the children for listening to him and rushes to a herald to hear any news from Zassan.
Ekbard the Nerosian:
Ekbard is impressing the locals by lifting a dwarven man aloft with but an arm. He nearly drops the man when he sees a stern looking man walking toward him. Even stranger when he speaks Nerosian.
"Ravenseye, it's been too long. Kuldur has risen again! The elders sent me here for you."
The man rolls back his sleeve revealing the sun within a wheel symbol of Pulstan, his home isle.
Goodie the Vetern Halfling:
Goodie practices his bowman-ship. No need, he's near flawless, but this is a halfling who accepts only perfection. He wonders where the party will go next. He hopes not the road to Zassan. He has stayed away from the Shire for as long as he could. The wrecklands would be preferable to that road. The charming bucolic scenery found within his homeland belies a hypocritical truth that Goodie does not want to deal with.
BandyLegs
"A terrible journey to undertake Cleric" says one of the masters. "To Zassan, no to even Osinzir. However in a way it is a boon, possibly Vergadain's work, for our cousins, the fire dwarves, have reported a riot at Dwacatra. They need our help, it lies a mile off the shore of Zassan. On the way to the Nerosian archipelago, but I am sure you know this, son of Brandywine.
We keep within our dungeons here in Dwarrowtown a thief, the only ever to escape the rock. Human of course, scoundrals always are, he goes by Kalgay Sharpshard. I think you'll need him."
Osinzir emissary's caravan:
Theophylaktos, Flak to friends, hurries for his life to fulfill an order. Why do these nobels have to travel with so many bloody retainers and why bring a mobile tavern?
Who knows? He's just glad to sneak a look at his spellbook instead of a cookbook when he has the chance. It's bloody freezing here up North. Still though, a dwarven city, should be interesting. No magical talent though, what a dull race.
He sees the doors of Dwarrowtown before the caravan, what awaits him he wonders. A chance to escape this humdrum nonsense? Adventures? Treasure? Nah, he's just dreaming. However it's a dream that feels all the more real as the Osinzir banners march beneath the gates...
