A Tale of Courage and Horror

Sit back and listen and I'll tell you a tale. It won't be the tale of how King Thaddeus and his inner circle saved the world... or how the Wayfarer Vanguard rose from the destruction of Magnimar and defeated the Runelord Xin... Oh no, this is a different kind of tale. A tale less believable and even more horrifying. A tale that began before our heroes even knew it had begun.

Our cast consisted of a most unusual band. Gilrainel Lorebinder and his kin Ciaren and Caeleigh Spellsingers. An elf explorer who had traveled most of this continent with plans to go even farther while the twins were the half-elven children of his brother Beinion. Entertainers and masters of song and story were their claim to fame. With them is the Nirmathian cleric of twilight Solorio Revenmar and Blundergrim Brawnanvil both veterans of amazing and terrible wars.  

To tell an extraordinary tale one must start in ordinary places. This tale starts as many do with our intrepid heroes on the road to Faldamont in the outskirts of Taldor on a brisk afternoon in the middle of Lamashan. The place was most famous for its association with a great Red Dragon named Ashardalon who destroyed the fortifications. Still a tale worth hearing for another time and one Lorebinder was intent on writing in his book.
Fate had a different tale though, Many things were moving and our heroes were caught in the middle of the web. Gilrainel heard about the Sunless Citadel a place he was eager to dredge for secrets of this mysterious cult of a Dragon. Perhaps tied to Ashardalon... perhaps not, Patience listener is a virtue. Solorio found humanitarian work in town as an old orchard keeper was dying of a strange malady and the mighty dwarf Blundergrim Brawnanvil was charged with tracking down some children who had run off with a ranger and a paladin.

Three choices, but which would take priority? It was a question the band debated over for some time, but saving children if children they truly were would always win out. The orchard farmer was on short time left, so he came a close second. To Gilrainel's dismay the Sunless Citadel was a distant third. It had lain abandoned this long, it could wait a while more.

Elves have a different view of time as humans do, and as he had been found in a similar position as questionable Sir Brayford of Saranrae and his ranger companion Karakas, he was very curious about how old these children were and if they were considered adults in their culture. After all his niece and nephew were still babes in the eyes of elves... but here they were. Turns out Gilrainel was closer than he thought. The boy was sixteen this year and his sister just a little younger. Young enough for a parent to worry about but old enough to get that wanderlust the young know so well. Still a worried mother is nothing to scoff at, They had been gone a month to hunt goblins and the band had not been heard from since.

On the way out of town, they stopped by the orchard to investigate. The sick man had a wound on his heel that no less than two clerics were at a loss to explain. He seemed to be drained of blood but none could explain why. When they arrived at the orchard it took little time to find peculiar hardened thorns sticking up from the ground. Caeleigh dug the spike up and found it attached to a root like appendage that spread between the sickened and dying trees. The bark seemed to crumple in Gilrainel's hands as the tree was devoid of any sap much like the old man.

None knew what to make of these roots, but the tiny footprints scattered about cried out that the goblins had been there. So they returned to their primary objective. Find the children or at least their rings to show their fate. On the way out of town, the tracks led to a cliff or what seemed to once been a bridge that had long since been destroyed. Using a combination of ropes both brought and already attached, our heroes descended carefully. Caution was not enough though, for as soon as they hit the landing below and the abandoned campsite they were attacked by gigantic monstrous rat creatures. The wounds were deep and grievous but the wizard was able to cast a spell that dropped every last one. They killed them at their leisure.

What they saw amazed them all. A fortress of sorts that seemed to have sunken into the cliff face. Gilrainel was beaming as he declared it must be the Sunless Citadel. All their paths had led to his goal anyway. That said if the Goblin hunters had come this way, they probably didn't survive the whole month.

As our heroes traveled down stairs fashioned into the rock face.. the keen eyed Solorio saw a trapdoor carved into the floor. That was when the Creepies attacked. Little did they know that this would be the first of many of the abominations to attack. Blue skinned almost lizard like, but with legs like a scorpion and two stabbing claws out front... the mere description does not convey the repulsion you would feel should you meet one. Unfortunately they don't travel singularly. Surprise may have been their greatest weapon, surprise and claws, but once the battle was joined in full, the injuries were minor. Caeleigh healed her brother who had taken a massive slash, but they were victorious.

The following room presented more questions than answers. Corpses of Goblins were scattered about, and who doesn't love goblin corpses, but their deaths were peculiar. The torso's had large holes in them, and their insides were hollowed out. Now some would think that could lead our intrepid band to include goblin puppets... but the idea was quickly shot down. The creatures left no treasure behind them so the heroes moved to the next room. Of the two choices they the twins decided on left. After much debate on who should go first, the eager Gilrainel leapt to the front of the line and was nearly attacked by another couple creepies. They died fast, but every cut hurt. the door leading out of this room had a large lock which they could not pick and had no key. The lock was shaped in the form of a Dragon head and Gilrainel was excited about any clues toward the mysterious dragon cult. Unfortunately the door refused to yield to their talents.

Caeleigh saved the day though. Finding a small tunnel that she could squeeze through she shimmied through to the room beyond. Unfortunately the door wouldn't yield from that side either... and there was a strange music and tiny prints that seemed cyclonic for lack of a better word. When she returned to inform the others, Gilrainel was quick to dive into the hole himself and they went back to the locked room. The Lorebinder recognized the mysterious glowing orb as a warding device. A thing that would steal the will of those nearby and send them running in fear. Providing they didn't have elvish blood running through them that is. Even on the other side of the door Solorio felt the effects and fled for the exit only to trigger the trap door he had spotted coming in. Ciaren claimed to be unaffected by the ward, but followed the cleric to the pit and helped him back to ground level. Solorio however claimed a goblin sized shield as his own that he found down there.

Once the spell had worn off the others joined back together through the tunnel onto the other side of the dragon room. From there Caeleigh had discovered another tunnel that led deeper into the citadel, while Gilrainel found the only door out of there to be unlocked. But sadly not untrapped. Even the keenest eyes can miss a well disguised traps of course and he barely dodged an arrow out of nowhere. Convinced the trap was sprung he continued forward and took another arrow took him in the side. That was the last for him... but the trap was still active.

Solorio was able to spot where the triggers were and while Caeleigh chose to crawl through the tunnel to the next room, the cleric and the rest were able to jump past to join Gilrainel in the room. The next room contained a large white marble statue of a vicious looking dragon. Odds are the red veins in the marble was meant to represent the red dragon Ashardalon... but it still looked white to our heroes.

Before any of this was able to be conveyed though, the dragon actually spoke. In a guttural growl it said the following... "I appear at night without being fetched. I disappear at dawn without being stolen... what am I'. A riddle, the right answer could produce riches, the wrong sudden death. Fortunately Gilrainel Lorebinder had heard various riddles from one end of the continent to the other. This one was popular in Taldar and as such was heard in many of its' lost empire. The answer was 'stars' and as soon as the words were out of his mouth a secret door revealed itself.

What they found inside nearly killed them all. Nearly I say or this story wouldn't be worth telling. The room was full of statues of ancient elves in plate mail with a hundred shattered head sized eggs at their feet. and dozens of Creepies.. they poured out of the pit at the far end and did all they could to destroy the heroes. Only the combined efforts of magic and steel kept them alive and more than one were dropped unconscious till healing magic restored them

After that... well, the spells were all exhausted, there was still at least half the citadel to explore, so they chose the better part of valor and returned to where stone staircase outside the citadel to rest and regain their strength. Little  did they know just how much they were going to need it.

Spells restored they returned to the secret room. The door was once again hidden, but the riddle didn't change and they regained entry. There was a large pit with spikes under it that the creepies had come from, There was concern voiced that the eggs were the size of a human head... but the creepies they fought didn't seem large enough to have laid them... and there were MUCH more eggs than creepies they had killed. Not one to be turned back by fear or common sense, Gilrainel leapt across the gorge to fine a magical burning sconce and a dragon headed sarcophagus. Ironically he also found Big Mamma Creepy. This one was twice the size of the others and fast. With two solid swipes of it claws the elf was unconscious. The others tried in vain to get an angle.

Solorio was the first to make the jump to his friends rescue with the twins following close behind. Big Momma Creepy put up one heck of a fight, and by the time it was over, Gilrainel had been healed to consciousness and their spells were mostly depleted again. Unfortunately another rest was not in their near future.

Much to Ciaren's dismay, his uncle was always the first to disregard caution. Giving only the most cursory of looks, the elf was quick to insist that they opened the sarcophagus and reveal its ancient secrets. Sadly it wasn't so easy a task. The stone lid was firmly secure with Iron latches rusted shut with age, that it took nearly all of them too open. The dwarf was instrumental in moving the heavy latches, but even the twins were able to loosen a couple.

Inside was a wealth of treasure. Four scrolls glowing with magic, Divine scrolls to the elf's disappointment, though they would save his life before the day was out. Jewelry in the shape of dragons carved from silver and coins galore.  Most of all the corpse itself caught their attention.

It was a large body, dressed in robes, and based on the scrolls a priest or cleric of some kind. No armor or weapons of any kind... but its form was like nothing even Lorebinder had ever seen. It seemed to be a cross between dragon and man. Scales covered its body, the horns and maw were still well preserved. There seemed to be no sign of violent death, but there also seemed to be no way to awaken it. It's death was assured, but it's mystery had only begun.

Following a larger tunnel that Big Momma Creepy had made they found themselves in what could only be called an altar room? An Albino Kobold was curled up on a throne in front of the altar.. appearing quite dead. Nearby there was a bat winged monstrosity staring most intently at the kobold, ignoring everything else around it, including our heroes. After multiple attempts to communicate Gilrainel commenced inspecting the altar and its offerings. Amongst a flask and some tokens... there were three Arcane scrolls, things the wizard could add to his book... or so he thought at the time.
As the items were stored for safekeeping, the dead spoke. "Kobolds are heirs to Dragons," the albino corpse growled. It spoke again about how the Mighty had lead a few to the holy site where dragons were worshipped. Naturally this was the Citadel with the dragon cult... but then he went on about how there was an Outcast who controlled goblins and came to take the treasure. Apparently they were in the middle of a Kobold and Goblin war, which too many would seem fairly mundane or boring... but you forget about the Dragon man... There were still mysteries to solve and to our band of heroes mysteries were entrancing. Finally it something that would interest anyone in the town above. It claimed that the Goblins had taken the fruit and planted them in the world above...  Vague and unnerving to be sure, but after they had found that peculiar killer root destroying the Orchard and of course it's owner, that struck a chord they wanted to hear more of.

However there was no more. They never did really learn for sure why it spoke in the first place... perhaps the bat shaped monster was compelling it with a Speak with Dead'...albeit telepathically... perhaps it was like the wardings they found earlier... but it had no more to speak.

The monster still no interest in them, so they scooted around to safety and continued further down. Coming to multiple a long dark hallway with doors on each side, they tried the first door.  It both was and wasn't trapped. The trap was still there, but it was old and feeble and inoperative. However it served as a warning to any other doors they may try later. Inside were three skeletons chained to the floor, They were small and unlike the stories you may have heard, they were not the animating type. The bodies were of goblins, the scattered weapons were dogslicers. The bodies were even apparently children... but our heroes did not notice that right away... no they didn't. For out of the darkness above them, strong arms reached down to attack. Caeleigh and Gilrainel were the first to be attacked and once a strong arm reached around your neck... darkness would come swiftly to you. These creatures were identified as Chokers. Known to squeeze the life out of a full grown man with one hand and devour them till nothing remained but the skeleton, as our goblin corpses could attest to.

This battle was the worst they had found yet... Gilrainel was unconscious immediately, others were grabbed and lifted from the ground. Magic and weapons seemed to clatter around the creatures harmlessly... until it didn't. With groans of pain and weariness they killed the Chokers to death and barely staved it off themselves.

Crossing the hall they found a butchers room and room with worthless hunting gear. Whether for Kobolds  or Goblins was tough to tell, neither are known for their craftsmanship.  As they approached the end of the hall there were another pile of goblin skeletons... still nothing that animated. Gilrainel was almost disappointed that he had been in so many ruins, but never seen a skeleton animate on its own... but that thought left his mind as tragedy struck. The hall was quiet, and he searched the door for traps and the others searched the ceiling for Chokers.. the attack came from an unexpected place. The pillars... A slight chittering sound gave the creepies away, but not in time to react.

What made this fight different? Who can say? Perhaps after the chokers nearly killed them all, the creepies didn't seem as big a threat... maybe they were just naturally overconfident. It happens sometimes even to the best of adventuring groups.  Triumph without tragedy of course makes for a boring story...  The entertainers knew that better than anyone. Gilrainel was again the first to fall. The twins both shortly after. Solorio was hard tasked to keep anyone alive, but deserves credit for what he did. Gilrainel was restored with that scroll from the sarcophagus, and Caeleigh was able to be stabilized. Gilrainel tried every trick he knew .. . but it wasn't enough. Ciaren did not stabilize that day. Our heroic team had suffered its first loss.
Friends and family alike were heartbroken, but not willing to give up just yet. They live in a world of magic after all, and magic can sometimes even cure death itself. With heavy but hopeful hearts they carried the limp bodies of Ciaren and Caeleigh back to town and the cleric Corky. Now resurrection is a tricky thing... and it requires both power and money. Our party had neither. Solorio inventoried all their remaining treasure and funds and they were woefully short of what a traditional cleric would charge. Gnomes are a peculiar and unpredictable lot so there was still a chance. Unfortunately as low as they were on money, Corky was low on power. As eager as he was to try and raise the young half-elf, it was beyond him.

Gilrainel poured over the numbers in his head and didn't like his chances. They had previously been in Novastasia in the River Kingdoms and knew of a Paladin-King who would raise the dead frequently with no thought to cost... however it had taken them over a month to make the journey here... and even without stops they wouldn't make it in the 10 days or so needed before the spell was ineffective. If Corky could cast a lesser version to preserve the corpse... it would only add another ten days. No matter how he looked at them, the numbers were not in their favor.

Corky could not cast the spell, but he could still help it turned out. He knew of a scroll in town that Consul Vanorius kept. With that Scroll he would be able to save Ciaren. With that Scroll, Solorio could do it himself... but the question was how to get that scroll. Gilrainel had already decided that he'd beg, steal or kill to get it... but first they'd try the legitimate way. They would try to leverage what they knew about the Goblin attacks, the orchard, and their treasure to see if they could strike a deal. Not at midnight however, when asking for favors of such magnitude it was always best to let the favoree have a good night sleep. First there was another detail to deal with.

Having taken all their gold to the pile, they all slept by the fireplace that night. It took longer than it should have, but Caeleigh finally awoke there, and her uncle had to explain what had happened to her brother. She did not take it well. She too would have done anything in her power, and some things that may not have been to restore her family. But first they would try the easy way. The entertainers played softly into the long night with only their music speaking between them.

The next morning things went as well as they could. It took no time at all to reach an audience with the Consul, and while he seemed annoyed and suspicious when they told him they knew about the scroll... he was open to their bargaining. The one thing that he insisted on however, was finishing the quest. He required oaths and contracts that they wouldn't just raise the dead and run away... even if it may have been going through at least some of their minds. Whether honestly or not, they all signed the contracts, and the precious scroll was handed over to Solorio.

With little time wasted, they returned to the Saranrae shrine and Ciaren's body... and Solorio proceeded. With a flash of light the scroll crumbled in his hand... but the half-elf shuddered and began to breathe....

Death is the most simple thing in the world, and yet the most complicated as well. Like ripples in a pool one man's passing can touch many others. Ciaren handled better than most. Some might be tempted to withhold the information that he had died... but where's the glory in that? How do you tell other's stories when you don't know your own.... how do you learn from mistakes if no one lets you know them? So Ciaren was told of his passing and the price that his friends were willing to pay to bring him back. The half-elf needed a day or two to regain his composure for death is not so easily shook off and he was still physically drained The others were more than willing to accomodate him for they were equally drained emotionally. 

The day was spent on their own pursuits.  Solario helped as many people as needed it in the small community, the twins played for the crowds and themselves, Like so many before him, Blundergrim heard the siren call of the forge calling to his blood and Gilrainel tried to earn back some of their money playing at dice. But their respite was a short one. Soon they had to fulfill their contract. 
As they entered the Sunless Citadel for what they each hoped would be the final time, they chose the 'second' door out of the entrance. After all, the original led to the tomb of the dragon man... but all other exits had required crawling through burrow holes... and that couldn't have been the architect's design could it? 

As they entered the Sunless Citadel for what they each hoped would be the final time, they chose the 'second' door out of the entrance. After all, the original led to the tomb of the dragon man... but all other exits had required crawling through burrow holes... and that couldn't have been the architect's design could it? 
Certainly not my friends, and that line of thinking was indeed correct. The door led to a hallway that was obviously well used and well traveled. This was the route that the current occupants chose to use. Various doors were scattered on the hallway with one that seemed especially promising. It was carved of heavy stone and had dragon motifs all over it. Trying the key they found by the altar... it didn't work. Trying to break it down... didn't work either. Sadly since our heroes were of the more law-abiding type compared to many other groups... none there knew how to pick the lock and the door frustratingly remained locked it's mysteries denied our heroes. 

The other doors not so much. A more typical wooden door and not bothered to be locked. Mostly because nothing was inside them. At the end of the hall though, things got interesting. There was an old firepit and a broken cage. Blundergrim was able to determine that a young dragon had been held in it for some time... and based on the condition of the cage, even a young dragon is nothing to scoff at... but the signs seemed old. 

Caeligh could barely reach to boost Gilrainel and Blundergrim's attack, and before any real damage was done to it, it vanished. They backed out of the closet and Caeleigh was determined to explore the room full of rat guts and other remains. Gilrainel of course was content to encourage her from a distance in an effort to keep his lunch down. Despite her enthusiasm, there was nothing of note in the abattoir and certainly no meenlock. Apparently the hideous creature had an ability to 'shadow teleport'... and there was no shortage of shadows in the Sunless Citadel, let me tell you that!

The heroes expanded their search to some side rooms... but they were mostly empty except for a few scattered and disused fire pits and shattered stone statues. In a fit of irony, Gilrainel discovered a nauseating pot of offal that shattered all over him. Much to the hilarity of his companions... but the elf is known as a good sport and no real harm was done. Though if they found enough treasure, he made a vow to burn his current clothes. Three rooms later, and they stumbled across the accursed Meenlock. With a little more room to manuever it didn't last long under Blundergrim's heavy boots. 

They traveled deeper into the Citadel and the rooms began to seem familiar to some. They were traveling down a hall on the opposite side of the room they first fought the chokers, and just down the hall from what had become known to Caeleigh's chagrin 'The Death Hall' which still sported her brother's blood stains. Ciaren however found the title rather appropriate. 

They had entered the Citadel from a different path, but they had now made actual progress. Didn't take long for that to become annoying though as the floor gave away and Blundergrim and Gilrainel fell through the pit trap. No real damage, but the others jumped across to the opposite side and Solorio produced a rope to get them out of the hole. 

The stench of the dungeon was getting worse. As sure a sign they were getting close to the goblin's lair as any. The next door proved  that theory correct as a trio of goblins were waiting for them. Two died quickly, but the third fled into the nest hall for reinforcements. Gilrainel took chase, but it was Caeligh's arrow that ended him. 

This room was much larger and much more impressive. It was a similar pillared hall as the 'Death Hall' was, but this felt 'bigger' and the pillars were carved with epic dragon sculptures. 

Two choices to go, so the heroes chose to go forward. The other direction felt more 'back the way they came', and that didn't feel like progress. So forward they went. Blundergrim pushed open the heavy door and found pure chaos. It appeared to be some kind of refugee camp made of ramshackle garbage.... or possibly luxury living depending on the goblin tribe. Dozens of goblins... young, old, male, female all bolted upward and most started to flee them... some did not. With a sickening glee they drew their swords and bows and attacked, putting two arrows directly into the healer. 

Ciaren however drew second blood. With a mighty Thunderclap he sent many goblins scattering... and dying. Gilrainel's whip sent another to whatever god they worshiped. Solario tried a different tactic. He did his best to intimidate them, claiming he was a representative of the Outcast and to lower their weapons. To his credit, some did... but not all. 

The battle reached a fevered pitch with goblins dying left and right and the heroes own blood mingling on the floor with theirs. Gilrainel created an illusion of a dragon coming through the door to provide a slight respite, though it didn't work as planned. Apparently if given the choice between a dragon and an elf, the goblins will work even harder to kill the elf. Live and learn... 

When they had successfully finished the goblins who fought, they took to the impressive task of searching through the piles in the camp... disorganized as it may be... there was just about anything mundane you could think of... While Ciaren was performing a ritual to detect magic amongst the junk... the door next to him opened and multiple hobgoblins came out. Bigger and meaner than regular goblins, the heroes knew they were getting closer to the leader then. 

Ciaren however took the brunt of their attacks before his allies could aid them. Some were put to sleep and killed, while the others backtracked and locked the door behind them.  As injured as everyone was... they decided this may be a good time to take a rest and replenish their abilities.
An hour later, they were ready to go and when they burst through the doors that the two hobgoblins went through... they found what they were looking for.  An evil looking pit with plant's growing out of it, bathed in a violet glow.... a goblin witch, and what appeared to be a hobgoblin king in armor along with a weird little plant creature that popped out of a pot next to the throne when commanded. 

It was a furious battle to be sure, some of our heroes fell, but all of their enemies did. When at last the dust was settled, only Durnn the Hobgoblin king was left to answer questions, and as soon as the healing was administered... the heroes were back to full strength. 

Sometimes concessions need to be made, and that's what separates heroes from villains. I know many of you want to hear about how the Hobgoblin king was humiliated and murdered for his crimes.. but such would not be the truth. The truth in this case was much more mundane. The king lived... He lost his army and his stuff and a healthy dose of pride... but he still wanders the world somewhere, hoping he never runs across his enemies again. 

Before he was freed, Information was learned. First that he was not the 'big bad' of this tale. He had occupied the Sunless Citadel for six years in relative peace before the one called the 'outcast' Belak arrived. Some kind of nature freak ... twisted in appearance and mind. He was forced to send him tribute in the way of invaders. Much like the Party with the Paladin. 

The armor that he wore belonged to they young man they had been tasked to find. The boy he had killed, the paladin and the girl were sent 'below'. 

What the Outcast wanted was still a mystery, but he had forced the goblins to distribute seeds from the 'Twilight Grove'. Knowing this, they released the king and whatever weak and old goblins that had fled and forced him to flee and never come back. 

Having claimed the boys signet ring from him, they decided to return to town and keep them appraised.

The trip to town was uneventful as usual, but the trip to see the grieving mother was difficult. She took the news well that her daughter may yet be saved, but her son was not.. and true to her word paid the heroes for the ring they returned. 

One more comfortable night's sleep in town, and they returned to explore... the Twilight Grove. 
The keep seemed deserted as they entered. The hobgoblin king was true to his word and had left. When they found the pit with the glowing branches... they started down into the dark. 

At the bottom of the pit was a skeleton with a shovel working the dirt and mushrooms aplenty. Also a bugbear and another of those little plant monster things. A short fight later and the room was cleared. 

The tunnels were peculiar. Some seemed rough cut, while others seemed to be part of the original design of the Sunless Citadel. Following as they could, they came across rift with a large snake made of fire... which Blundergrim brought forth the full power of his smite and... smote it. 
Not all the goblins seemed to have fled with their king. Some were already down the hole and were abandoned. That said, none are left now. There was a laboratory setting with goblins experimenting on rats, and an armory and sleeping quarters all entering a giant room. The heroes planned and planned on the best way to divide and conquer... and sometimes, just sometimes... their enemies drop pretty easily and it wasn't necessary. 

This was one of those times. 
As the rooms came more frequently, the enemies were more varied. Now it appeared the Outcast had Gnolls working for him. Goblins, hobgoblins, skeletons, Gnolls, Bugbears... it was an eclectic army to say the least. 

Room after room they explored. They left no stone unturned and none could even slow them down. Except the Shadow...  Exploring one room with the statue of a red dragon with an eerie glow... Solorio was attacked by an undead monstrosity that could leap from shadow to shadow striking fast and sapping strength and vitality. 

That was an enemy they had never seen before and hoped to never see the like again. How little did they know... 
Soon they found yet another stairway leading them deeper underground and finally what had to be the 'twilight grove.' 

Purple glowing bushes dotted the giant tunnel as plant creatures hid to attack and goblins with bows tried to keep our heroes away... and failed. Although one got a nasty bite in on Ciaren... Gilrainel was able to determine that the bushes were in fact dangerous and poison. A fact he learned the hard way. It definitely made it harder to navigate their way through the corridor. 
But at the end, they saw what they were looking for. It was a giant, ugly, black tree manned by three people. One a druidy looking man with a twisted branch for a staff was obviously the leader. The two were a young woman and a knight of some sort whose skin looked like rough bark and  could only be the daughter and missing paladin. 

Belak explained that they were enthralled to the Gothias Tree. That once upon a time a vampire was staked to death on this very spot... and from that stake grew the Gothias tree. A fascinating concept that distracted our resident Lorebinder... and put a whole new spin on the 'Sunless Citadel' as a concept.

It's times like these that Gilrainel found himself getting used to disappointment. There was so much history and a fascinating story to hear, but Belak wasn't so talkative. He seemed intent that our heroes had to join him on his glorious task of evil... and thus battle was quickly commenced. It was a thing that happened more and more frequently since joining up with the mighty Blundergrim Brawnanvil. Is today the day they discovered a new story? Or was it the day they wrote their own? As is often the case, today was apparently a day to add a new verse.

The Paladin's sword glowed blue as he struck down, shattering Ciaren's blade with a wicked grin. Caeleigh counted the young lady with a spell that held her tight. Solorio charged toward Belak and his giant toad while Gilrainel went to work on the tree. If the tree was destroyed before it's prisoners were... perhaps they would gain a few allies. Either way, that tree was the source of the enthrallment, the wicked seeds, and the Twilight Grove... it had to go fast. Casting a spell enroute he was able to belch forth a cone of dragon fire that started to scorch the bark and branches.

Without his trusted rapier Ciaren was at a distinct disadvantage, but the bard wasn't completely helpless, With a massive thunderwave he sent both the paladin and the druid slamming across the room. The paladin sadly never rose again. Ciaren however was quick to claim the knight's stronger sword and aid Solorio.

The battle was heated and wounds were striking on both sides, when Caeleigh focused her attention away from the young caster and toward the main threat. Belak succumbed to her spell and found himself held fast.

While Gilrainel continued to burn the tree, most eyes focused on Belak and with a flourish of spell, hammer, and arrow the evil druid died. As the heroes examined the corpse and claimed his loot, a thunderous crack was heard throughout the grove as the flaming Gothias tree split open.

What should have been a victory cry however was anything but. As soon as the tree died a sickening, sticky, and moist fog spilled forth from the tree. Gilrainel believed it to be the vampire's mist returning from the dead. The tree was after all the stake... and he had heard legends about what happens if you remove a stake. However, this was so much more fog than that could explain. In mere moments everyone had lost track of everyone else. Any distance greater than 5' away was completely hidden from view and the combat had everyone turned around. Gilrainel and Solario were the closest at the time and were calling out to the others. The wizard used his whip as a guide as he spun it in wide circles hoping to connect with his friends and family.

With little difficulty he was able to snag first Ciaren and a few moments later Caeleigh and Blundergrim were close enough to snag. They brought with them Sharwyn, now free from the spell of Gothias tree, but still suffering from Bark Face.

She was as eager to flee that place as the rest of them were, so as a group they slowly tried to work their way back the way they came. Certain features and walls were familiar and should have taken them back to where they had recently fought the goblins and plant creatures... but that's not how this story goes. The story of the Sunless Citadel was merely a prequel. Setup for the true story you all came to hear.

What should have led them to safety did anything but. Still fumbling blindly in the mist they started to feel a breeze... and branches where there was none before. It's true the Gothias tree was somehow growing deep underground in ways that made no natural sense... but now all their senses told them that they were in the midst of a forest.

Their senses were true as they ever so slowly seemed to escape the mist and did indeed find themselves in a forest. Outside. At night when it should have still been before noon.

Now, before we go much farther... There's  a little known fact about elves that you should know. Elves are a part of the world in a way that the other mortal races aren't. The longer they stay in one place the more they bond with it. This is why the northern snow elf people tend to be more fair skin and hair bordering on the white of the snow that surrounds them. Same as why the more southern desert elves are more tan and dark complexion. It is known amongst the elves, but rarely dwelt on. After all, most elves tend to stay in one place if they can help it. However it has occasionally been seen for an elf to migrate and after a hundred years or so start to adapt to his new surroundings. A truly fascinating aspect of biology I tell you.  And as we find out, reserved for the trueblood elves. Our half-elven twins do not seem to have this ability... or perhaps they're still too young. A question for the scholars perhaps. 

Gilrainel however was not a typical elf. He wandered around so much that if you asked him, he'd likely tell you that he'd never found a homeland. He truly believed that till he left that mist. As they walked through the woods trying to find some kind of bearings or any idea where they were, the elf knew something had happened. He felt nauseous, like a piece of his soul had been torn away or a limb had been removed. It took some time before he was able to put a name to his discomfort. They were somewhere far from home... Farther than he had ever traveled before. Perhaps not even the same world. A dangerous world
It did not take long before they faced their first threat in this new land. The distant howling of wolves seemed less and less distant, till they could hear the howling and growling all around them. The dark and the fog had dissipated to the point where they could only see about fifteen in front of them, which made the sounds even more unnerving. When the wolves struck, they struck savagely. There were at least eight of the beasts and one much larger than the rest. Sharwyn was one of the few to escape their jaws, and the big one shrugged off more attacks than it should. though Solario seemed to draw some blood from it. Some wolves died but not all. and the big one seemed to sound a retreat that sent the survivors scampering off leaving the heroes to tend to their many many wounds. 

It was here that Gilrainel voiced his concern that they were not on their world... and proof that it was affecting him in some unseen way, suggested they return the way they came. He could justify it by the wolf attack, wanting to return Sharwyn home and being utterly lost... but truth was he was scared and lost in both body and soul. So when they returned to the wall of mist... He was first to volunteer to go through. Tying a rope around his waist, he fumbled back into the fog. This was a terrible mistake. 

Whatever this mist is, it brought them here, and had no intention of letting them leave. In mere moments the elf was more exhausted then he had ever remembered. He pushed till he thought he might not make it out and then with stubborn determination, pushed further still.. all the while feeling the mist leech any energy from his body. Knowing how far they traveled from the Gothias tree... he knew he couldn't make it back, and with a heavy heart and eyelids to match, stumbled back out to the rest of the group. 

Without the ability to move back, they moved forward, though Gilrainel was still suffering an exhaustion that coupled with the empty feeling in his soul made him less than stellar company 
They passed a dark pool of inky black water that none wanted to drink from and after two hours came to a road. The first sight of civilization to be found since they arrived. The debate came up which way to take the road, but the mist made that decision for them. It seemed to be following them, and after Lorebinder's experience they were all convinced that death waited inside. So they kept going. down the non-misted side of the road till they came to a massive wall with an equally impressive gate embedded in it. On each side of the gate was a Giant statue, with the head broken away and lying by its feet. The wall stretched as far as the eyes could but the gate... the gate began to open automatically when they approached. 

As they entered the gate, They realized it was time to rest. The wolves had cost most of the magic and healing the party had available and Gilrainel was passed out the moment he sat down. The mist was stil there, but didn't seem to object to them resting... as long as they didn't try to go back where they had come... 

The next morning they were again left with the burden of deciding which way to go. The exhaustion that the elf felt was lessened, but not gone. The others were back to full strength though so they tried to come to decisions. The decision seemed to be 'Follow the road' for who knows how long'... or 'Follow the wall and see if it comes to a city or merely circles the kingdom. '  Solario tried to climb to the top of the gate to see what he could, but didn't make it very far. Fortunately when last back in town the wizard was able to replace the components to summon his familiar Fizzle. Taking the shape of a hawk, Fizzle was able to scout from the top of the gate and share his sight with Gilrainel. Trees stretched north and south, the mist was still to the east... but in the distance they could now see a settlement to the west. The decision was made. 
As they traveled they found a hidden bundle of clothing in a tree. The clothes were completely foriegn to their sensibilities. It meant they were going to stand out when they arrived in town. However since there was only one set of clothes, there wasn't much they could do about it. And our little band of entertainers tended to like standing out in a new place anyway.  They left the bundle for whatever runaway or eloping youngster may have left it and continued onward. 

I wonder sometimes if 'Standing out' would be the right description for what they found when they arrived in the settlement. They were the only ones seen at all. The  town was completely deserted... but not necessarily in ruins. It could be habitable... it just showed no signs of life in it.. By common consensus it was agreed that a town like this should have around seventy or so people at any given time... but the streets were abandoned. 

Until they saw the children. 

The childrens' names were Rose and Thorn. Rose being the older of the two and neither appeared to be ten years of age. They were scared, and Caeleigh's heart went out to them both. The details were sketchy at best, but what they were able to reveal was that their parents were gone... and there was a monster in their basement. Now those more suspicious amongst you may have heard some warning bells at this, and that's not to say our heroes didn't hear them as well. But sometimes heroes are the ones to help even if it may be a trap. Especially if scared children are involved. 

The house they were led to was four stories high with buildings on either side boarded up. Before they entered there was something that Gilrainel wanted to clarify. The Paladin's sword that Ciaren had traded him for his short sword was useful in his own hands. However it was more useful in Blundergrim's. After some debate on who should wield the magic blade, the honor fell to Blundergrim. The magic would attune to him in time, but even at its minimum power it was better with him. The dwarf's strength was unrivaled in the party and that was definitely a strength weapon. . 

When they entered the foyer they saw their first glimpse of the family home. Dust was everywhere and the home seemed abandoned. Yes, more warning bells, but their curiosity was piqued. The closets were full of strange clothes. Similar in weirdness to what was out in the tree, but if the house was a basis, these were of a higher class. They also had a coat of arms for the Durst family hanging proudly. A Golden Windmill on a red field was a sight they would see quite frequently in this home. 

On the ground floor there was a hunter's den that Gilrainel hoped would give some hint to what the monster they were hunting would be. Animal heads like wolves filled the room, and there was a crossbow in a locked cabinet, but lacking any magical properties it was left where it was found. 

The Kitchen and the dining room were also on the ground floor. The cooking instruments seemed more futuristic then they were used to and made some of them uneasy about their current place in the world, but no monsters, and no stairs going below. All they could find were stairs going up. Hardly productive to fighting a monster in the basement, but when you can't find secret doors, you go up. 

The second floor was dominated by a family portrait of the Dursts. If there were any doubts sown because of the lack of a basement, seeing the familiar faces of Rose and Thorn in the portrait dispelled them. There was a third child apparently, a small baby being held by Lady Durst who she seemed to regard with scorn. A music room full of harps and strange unfamiliar instruments was determined to be creepy when they found a shelf of alabaster figurines, many of which were skeletons. 

Across the hall was an office of some sort. There was yet another windmill on the desk and a portrait that nobody could recognize stated as 'Valley of Barovia'. Whether this was where the Dursts were from originally.. or where our heroes were currently, was beyond their understanding. 

In this office they were able to find a secret room. Unfortunately that merely created more questions than answers. Whoever this Mr. Durst was, he was obviously into something bad. The room had an evil looking altar to some foriegn necromantic god that our heroes had no way of knowing named Osybus. There was a chest in there as well with a skeleton shoved to the side. Upon inspection he seemed to have been killed by a poison dart. Obviously he had been there for years and years, which even more so put the children's story into question. In his bony grip was a scroll.


My most pathetic servant, 

I am not a messiah sent to you by the Dark Powers of this land. I have not come to lead you on a path to immortality. However many souls you have bled on your hidden altar, however many visitors you have tortured in your dungeon, know that you are not the ones who brought me to this beautiful land. You are but worms writhing in my earth. 
You say that you are cursed, your fortunes spent. You abandoned love for madness, took solace in the bosom of antoher woman and sired a stillborn son. Cursed by darkness? Of that I have no doubt. Save you from your wretchedness? I think not. I much prefer you as you are. 

Your dread lord and master, 
Strahd von Zarovicvh.

Everyone's blood ran cold when this was read out loud. The evil of this Gustaov Durst was ever present... but the coldness of this Zarovich fellow may have been worse. Many clues in this note, but clues to what they still weren't sure. What were these Dark Powers that deserve capitalization? Where is this dungeon? Is it the hidden basement the heroes were searching for? Having a mistress would explain the wife's disdain for the child, but the stillborn comment negates that. So many questions. 
The only thing left on the 2nd floor was the servants' room consisting of two beds and some chests... then more stairs going up, at the top of which they found some black plate mail waiting inertly for them. It was covered in dust, and they were curious if it could be fitted to Blundergrim. The very act of inspecting it caused it to attack. Solario shoved it and Caeliegh tackled it to the ground and the dwarf led the pounding on it till it stopped moving. The downside however was that no, the armor wasn't usable after that. 

The next room was obviously designed for an adult. They would later decide this was the nanny's room after they found a secret staircase leading to the children's floor, or more notably when they found the nursery attached and the nanny materialized in front of them to attack. Gilrainel was the unlucky soul to have opened the door to see the abandoned crib there, and that infuriated the spectre... ghost... Spirit? The answer to what she was was not revealed to the heroes, but she was something that none of them had even heard of before. The Holy warriors tag-team of Blundergrim and Solorio raced forward to destroy the undead,but she seemed to not be bound the material plane and immediately bypassed them and appeared in front of the bladesinger striking him down. 

 Gilrainel was wounded badly, the most he'd ever felt and he couldn't put words to why. Though the wound wasn't terrible, his skin had become emaciated and shriveled and he was hungrier than he ever remembered. His mist induced exhaustion didn't help and he knew his only option was to flee. His minor spells wouldn't win this fight. As quick as he could he fled back toward the stairs where Sharwyn was waiting and within moments the ghost had been smited to death. None of that helped the elf though. He wasn't dead... but he was as near as he could be and still function. 
Now there were tough choices to make. Rest in the haunted house? Abandon the haunted house for whatever had seemed to kill the village? What about the children and the monster? Gilrainel was never one to shy away from adventure, and they hoped that they could solve this mystery without any further difficulty. That was not the case though. 

The first door they opened in the hallway involved Ciaren being attacked by a broom. The room was too small for anyone to aid him in that fight... and soon the half-elf was chased out of the room. Then it was Solario's turn. He also lost the fight to the broom. Honestly it was most dangerous broom any of them had ever seen, but between Caeleigh and Blundergrim the broom was finally destroyed. 
The bladesinger was relegated to the back of the group as they finished the last room on the third floor. It was the master bedroom. There bets being taken as to whether the tiger skin rug was going to attack them, and Gilrainel lost when it remained inert.  

When you explore enough ruins you start to get a feeling about the layout of the places. In each room there was the same five foot area that was unaccounted for. Either it was a chimney (though not any fireplace they could see) or some kind of secret compartment, though for the life of them, none could find a way to open it. Some thought it must be the secret of the missing basement, and now dungeon, but the farther they went up, the less likely that seemed. 

Finally they returned to the nanny's room and went up the secret staircase. This indeed led to the children's level. Not knowing what to suspect, they were still surprised and horrified when they found in the small bedroom two tiny skeletons that matched the Rose and Thorn that had led them here.  Almost as horrified as when the two children suddenly appeared. 

Ciaren was inspecting the dollhouse that matched the real house, hoping to find out what that missing five foot section was... when the familiar voices told him to leave it alone, it was theirs! The following conversation was peculiar. They didn't seem to realize they were dead... they never left the attic room... They have zero knowledge of meeting the heroes in the street.... so once again more questions. At first they wanted them to leave, but then suddenly seemed very invested in keeping everyone around. they wanted to play. Not in that horrifying tear you apart and revel in your blood kind of play... but just like lonely kids they wanted to have a tea party. They offered the use of the beds to still weak looking Gilrainel but he politely refused.  Caeleigh and Ciaren agreed to play with them for a short time while the others took a short rest (outside the room of the ghost children), but then it was time to go. 

They weren't happy when the time finally came and when they disappeared, the bards got a strange look in their eyes. The normally brave Ciaren was suddenly scared and acting like he was about five years old, and Caeleigh became increasingly bossy and mean. It didn't take much to realize they were now possessed by the spirits of the children. Solorio had no means to excise the spirits and Gilrainel knew of no arcane ways to do it either. The only thing that occured to him that may work, would be to complete their tasks. Kill the monster, put the ghosts to rest. It was a long shot. Even more so now that their group of five was now only an effective two.

The children had pointed out that the mystery space was indeed a secret staircase to the basement that you had to enter from the attic. Without further wasting time, They started down the stairs. Rose insisted on being in charge, though her uncle still tried to steer her in ways that would protect the host she wore. Thorn was a bit easier and Gilrainel hoped they could defeat this new threat before he or his kin were lost.