Campaign Epilogue

Drew's summer campaign that ended up taking more than summer.

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Campaign Epilogue

Postby Mr_Praetorian » Sun Jan 06, 2008 5:04 am

The fall of the Red Hand - Epilogue

After roughly a month of investigation and conflict, all that Azarr Kul, leader of the Red Hand Horde, and Tiamat, Queen of Evil Dragonkind, had been scheming for was brought crashing to the ground. The culprits? A rather unassuming group of heroic adventurers that had been merely passing though to investigate attacks on Dwarven Caravans throughout the southern portion of Elsir Vale.

What began as a simple inquiry, would turn into a quest to halt the advance of a massive dragon-aided horde, lead by the enigmatic hobgoblin, Azarr Kul, a leader with direct draconic heritage. Azarr, as they soon learned, has succeeded in uniting all of the monstrous denizens of the Wyrmsmoke Mountains under a single purpose, to crush all civilization in the Vale, and rebuild and Empire in Tiamats Glory.

Though the forces of Azarr Kul were both mighty and numerous, the Heroes swiftly proved to far outwit even their best strategists. The next few weeks would meet the Red Hand Horde with defeat and defeat, as the heroes did everything in their power to delay, hinder, and diminish the monstrous collective in their power. The loss of Skull Gorge Bridge would force the horde to spend nearly week trudging through the swamps near the Witchwood; all the while being harried by elvish scouts. To make matters worse, the heroes also managed to rob control of the Ghostlord, a terrible and ancient druid who had a penchant for breeding ghostly lions. Though it pained them to spare the creature, the assurance his withdrawal from Azarr’s forces was what they sought. Whether they planned to return and slay him, remains unknown, to this day.

For all that the heroes did to delay the Red Hand’s approach, however, it was not enough to keep Brindol from its reach forever. Inevitably, the horde brought war to Brindol, and though they outmatched the Brindolian’s in both training and numbers, the heroes, even here would soon undo them. They surged over the walls, smashed the gate, and even called dragonfire from the sky. Yet, in the end, it was at the Cathedral of Pelor where the Red Hand’s most prized strategist and personal guard would be slain by the heroes; thus, breaking the enemies momentum, and lifting the siege. Brindol was cleansed, and the horde shattered and faded into the west.

Just as the defenders of Brindol were reestablishing their positions, the heroes were on already fighting their way through the fleeing horde, cutting the survivors down, and they traveled back up the Dawn Way, though the Wyrmsmoke Mountains, and directly into the Fane of Tiamat itself. Within the Fane, and Azarr’s Mountain Stronghold, the heroes faced both hellish abishai and priests devout of Tiamat. Eventually facing even Azarr Kul himself, in a truly epic struggle to end his reign, and Tiamat’s influence, once and for all. The battle was quick, yet brutal, and ended with Azarr slain and the heroes all but spent.

Unfortunately, the war did not end there. For, no sooner had they put down Azarr, did, Tiamat, in all of her rage send a very aspect of herself end their existence. The exact details of the battle are unknown, but the aftermath is well known throughout the Vale. It is said that a great storm of blackened clouds gathered as they battled the abominations. As the fighting continued, red lightning was hurled down from the heavens all across the mountains. In the end, whether by divine intention or otherwise, the Fane came crashing down upon itself.

The fate of the Defenders is debated to this day. Some say that the mountain simply crashed down upon them, others argue that Tiamat pulled them down to Avernus herself. Yet, others argue, that the heroes are not dead at all, and continue to wander the realms of this world and others to this day.

Whatever their fate was, their memory shall be both cherished by good, feared by evil, even as those who remember the events surrounding them begin to fade away…

(If you're interested to know the fates of your characters, roll me 1 fortitude, 4 reflex, and 1 will saves).
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Postby littleangryman » Sun Jan 06, 2008 9:48 pm

LeScott- Half-elf rogue 4/fighter 6
fort- 25 (roll: 15)
reflex- 25, 29, 21, 19 (rolls: 15, 19, 11, 9; evasion)
will- 22 (roll: 18)
Last edited by littleangryman on Mon Jan 07, 2008 5:46 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"Nothing is foolproof to a sufficiently determined fool."-someone

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"ERROR!!!!!" -warforged barabrian

"Me, I'm dishonest. And a dishonest man you can always trust to be dishonest. Honestly." - Captain Jack Sparrow

"And now... let us step out into the night and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure." -Albus Dumbledore

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Postby Mr_Praetorian » Mon Jan 07, 2008 2:07 am

Important: Post your characters name and class levels. It's been a long time guys.
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Postby Sajuuk » Mon Jan 07, 2008 4:54 am

Taur Runetotem, Cleric 8/Dragonslayer 1

(assuming you want the unbuffed saves)

Fort: 29 (rolled a 16)
Ref 1: 26 (nat 20)
Ref 2: 12 (rolled a 6)
Ref 3: 24 (rolled an 18)
Ref 4: 13 (rolled a 7)
Will: 36 (nat 20)
[PCs Currently At - Sailing The High Seas]
TODAY: Arodus 28, 4711
PARTY BUFFS ACTIVE: None










"No matter how difficult or absurd you make a puzzle, your players will find an even more impossible and preposterous way of solving it." - http://www.shamusyoung.com/twentysidedtale/?p=680
Titles: He Whose Hand Shapes What Is, Epic Destroyer of Loot, Creator of the Elemental Plane of Bishoujos.

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Postby Mr_Praetorian » Mon Jan 07, 2008 5:53 am

The Fate of Taur...

Throughout the battle with Azarr, you found yourself, as a cleric of natural order and purity, fighting extra hard against the vile servant of Tiamit, one who welcomed her unnatural dragon-spawn into this world. Though the battle with him, and his abishai protectors was tiring, you found a sense of accomplishment in personally smashing Azarr skull under your massive totem, once and for all. But, as you and your friends would soon learn, the battle was far from over.

Whereas the battle with the Red hand master had been rather quick (albeit brutal), the fight with Tiamats "messenger" was mercilessly long. The saving the grace of the last battle was that it had left you with most of your healing capacity intact, allowing you to preserve yourself and your allies against a relentless assault of claws, poisonous bites, and breath weapons.

The battle was fierce, but eventually you were able to put the beast down. Unfortunately, Tiamat, in her spiteful wrath, refused to let you go so easily, and proceeded to use the death of her aspect as a catalyst for tearing a portal between the inner chamber and Avernus itself. Needless to say, things became chaotic, and you quickly lost site of your friends. Though shocked, your divine-wrought resolve remained and you were able to begin heading for the exit.

The portal, however, lacked such resolve, and proceeded to lash out, several times, against the inner chamber, causing a cave-in to commence. Though were able to dodge more of the planar energy, you were unable to make it across the floor to the exit, and began to fall into Hell itself. Certain that your fate was sealed, you were quite surprised (and pleased) when a silver-skinned, draconic-knight, clad in armor of the purest mithral cut through the weakened portal, and snatched you from your fall.

When you nest gained consciousness, the draconic knight revealed that she had been sent to save you by the will of the Platinum Scale, an elite organization of dragon-blooded and dragon-devoted individuals that strived to fight off the forces of Tiamat, all across the planes. Though shaken from the ordeal, and saddened by the loss of your comrades, you accepted the invitation that she presented to you.

For the next fifty-seven years, you proudly served the order, earning the honorary title of Taur Wing-Bearer, for your distinctive style of wearing the wings of defeated evil dragons on your armor. But, as much you came to enjoy planes-hopping, visits to strange, alien worlds, caused you to miss your homeland even more. Thus, before the start of your 58th year of service, you successfully petitioned to leave the order, and returned home.

Your return to the Rune-Totem Tribe of the Battlebroke Planes was a surprise to all, who had lost all word of you after you left the planes. What a sight is was, to those who had watched a young, animal hide-clad tauren leave all those years ago, to return fully grown (and a bit larger than normal do to dragon patronage), sporting the a totem with a dragon-head carving on either side, wearing armor of the purest mithral that was wrapped in dragon wings.

For several years after that, you lived and watched over your tribe, eventually being named Chieftan of the Rune-Totem Tribe. Four decades later, you received notice that that Brindol was under besieged yet again, this time by the giant-tribes to the north. Without hesitation, you gathered the finest warriors and allies (including a Copper Dragon) of your tribe, and hurried to save Brindol once again.

You arrived in Elsir Vale to see Dennovar sacked, and Brindol half-taken. With a mighty roar, you unleashed your forces on the enemy, taking them completely by surprise. The fighting was intense, and it quickly became clear that giants had demonic allies with them, who proceeded to take a deadly toll on your forces. Nonetheless, you willingly and selflessly threw yourself upon the enemy, personally taking down dozens of giants, five vrocks, 2 nalfeshnee, and the Balor General himself, before being felled by a cheap-shot from a demonic elf wizard.

Your sacrifice proved to be the turning point, however. No sooner had the balor fallen did the giant-army's attack turn into a full rout. Enraged by the death of their leader, the remaining Tauren cried bloody havoc, and vowed to hunt down every last one of the attackers. They chased the giants back to their tribes. Neither them, the giants, nor the demons were ever seen again. The only ally of yours to return to the planes was the Copper Dragon, who, saddened by the grief of not being able to save you, vowed to watch over your tribe until the end of her days.
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Postby Mr_Praetorian » Tue Jan 08, 2008 5:11 pm

The Fate of Naruil...

Thunder sounded outside as you and your allies battled first Azarr Kul, and the hideous Tiamat spawn. Even from the opening in the Inner Sanctum, you could see the storm clouds unleashing terrible bolts of red electricity and the fight continued. You wouldn’t have needed your natural elven sense s to tell you that this would end badly, for both sides.

Nonetheless, you were determined to see the Red Hand fall, and thus persevered through both fights. You managed to bring down one of Azarr’s abishai with a single shot, and several times distracted the heads of Tiamat from potential head-severing blows with your arrows. The fighting was not only intense, but both physically and mentally draining. Not to mention the grevious wound you suffered one the heads managed to catch you in tumble, crushing some of your ribs and giving you a, nigh lethal, dose of poison.

However, no one in that room, including the ill-fated aspect herself could have expected what would happen next. The Queen of Evil Dragons was clearly not pleased with the events that had unfolded in her material Fane, and proceeded to destabilize the very portal that called forth her spawn, causing a collapse of the entire complex.

Though utterly shocked by the latest turn of events, you managed to call out to your allies “Everyone out!” before turning to flee yourself. The floor began to crumble as you made your way for the exit. You hear you friend Taur call out as he slipped and began his decent into Hell. You had just made it towards the exit, when suddenly, from behind, you heard the loudest, most terrifying roar. It was the stuff of nightmares, and it stopped you dead in your tracks, stunned in your tracks. Left to watch in paralyzed horror, your vision turning sideways as you also began your decent.

You recovered bodily control, just as you passed over into Avernus, the first layer of the Nine Hells of Baator. You came to as a blast of hearted air washed over you. You barely had time to panic before a fiendish red dragon swooped by and caught you in mid-air, digging its claws into your already damaged torso. The pain was so intense, that you fainted from shock. However, as you would soon learn, that moment of darkness was to be the most peaceful moment you would have for a very, very long time.

Torture, was the only word that could be used to describe the next chapter of your life, as you were subjected to week-long (sometimes month-long) bouts of vile instrumentation. You have no idea how long the Bone Devils of Tiamat “experimented” on you, but it seemed like an eternity. The ultimate price that you paid, however, for meddling with Tiamat, would be the loss of something more precious and important to you that any material item.

After the pinnacle of your eternity of pain, the vile devils under Tiamat harvested your very soul, for Tiamats own use. Now, they said, your torture was complete, as they could toy with your very existence on their whims. However, not long after that, a demonic incursion across all of Avernus distracted your masters from your fate. In the havoc of the attack, you were able to escape Tiamat’s clutches, but, unfortunately, your soul was captured during the attack by a maralith.

Since that day, you have been ruthlessly, and mercilessly tracking down your soul, which seems to pass from fiend to fiend just as you are close to the former. Nairuil the Fiend-Hunter is a well-known, and rightly-feared name throughout the Lower Planes. Some especially amongst the Higher Planes, have taken to offering their prayers to you, and looking upon you as a symbol of perseverance and inner strength. A symbol you are willing to be, for you can feel the power of their praise beginning to fill you with divine power. With each fallen arch-fiend, your prowess seems to grow.

You are not blind, however. You have come to understand that trading of your soul is but a game being played by otherworldly tyrants. Yet, for all of the undeserved suffering you have endured, you have realized (or convinced yourself) that the end is near, and that you will soon recover what is rightly yours.
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Postby littleangryman » Tue Jan 08, 2008 6:44 pm

((?? Who's this, Will's guy? I did update my post with class levels...))
"Nothing is foolproof to a sufficiently determined fool."-someone

"Man up or I'll beat you with my Peace Prize!" - Switzerland (Hetalia)

"ERROR!!!!!" -warforged barabrian

"Me, I'm dishonest. And a dishonest man you can always trust to be dishonest. Honestly." - Captain Jack Sparrow

"And now... let us step out into the night and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure." -Albus Dumbledore

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Postby Mr_Praetorian » Tue Jan 08, 2008 7:33 pm

That's Squall's character. By the way, Scott, I'll also need your character's alignment.
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Postby littleangryman » Wed Jan 09, 2008 5:53 pm

((Listed as Chaotic Good))
"Nothing is foolproof to a sufficiently determined fool."-someone

"Man up or I'll beat you with my Peace Prize!" - Switzerland (Hetalia)

"ERROR!!!!!" -warforged barabrian

"Me, I'm dishonest. And a dishonest man you can always trust to be dishonest. Honestly." - Captain Jack Sparrow

"And now... let us step out into the night and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure." -Albus Dumbledore

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Postby Mr_Praetorian » Sun Feb 03, 2008 8:04 pm

The Fate of LeScott

The fighting with Azarr Kul tested you to the limit of your abilities. Your skill as a rogue aided you in dodging the foul breath of the abishai, and your prowess as a fighter allowed you to stand toe-to-toe with the half-dragon chieftain himself. It was perhaps, a blessing that you were able bring him down rather quickly, as what was about to commence afterwards was unpredictable.

Tiamat, in her spiteful rage, had sent an image of herself to slay you for disrupting her conquest of Elsir Vale. What followed was the most horrifying and difficult battle of your life (thus far). The horrid aspect had not only great power, but also almost unconceivable endurance. For most of the fight, it seemed as though the blasted thing would never fall.

Yet, both skill and an unnatural dose of luck prevailed, and the abomination was finally put down. Regrettably, Tiamat was not deterred, an proceeded to tear a hole between the material plane and her own hellish realm in an attempt to drag your team into her grasp. A fierce and bone chilling roar was issued from what could have been the dark dragon goddess herself, as the floor began to give way.

Regardless, you had been through far too much to give in now. As Naruil called for everyone to leave the chamber, you began to jump from platform to platform, skillfully dodging a fall into hell itself. As you dodged and tumbled your way out of the room, you turned to see the Tauren misstep and fall into the flames. Naruil, who was right next to you stop dead in his tracks at the sound of the roar, and drop, paralyzed in fear, along with Taur. Keravel, who had been flying behind the abomination during the fight, was out of site, and you were out of time.

Despite your skill, the mountain itself was coming down upon you. To dodge such a thing would be a task for even the mightiest of hero. So, as the path before began to come down, you resigned yourself to defeat (hey, you’d had a good run). Yet, it appeared that fate had other plans. No sooner had the ceiling above you begun to come down did the floor beneath you give way, plunging you into the realm known as the Underdark.

You regained consciousness several hours later in a pile of rocks. Your body was broken, but your luck was obviously not. Several humanoids mostly dressed in patchwork or clothe suits; much like those of slaves, found you while looking for gems in the new rockslide. As you regained your senses, they carried you to their barrow and explained to you their situation. They were slaves to a somewhat petty and mostly unimportant drow priestess. In return for the healing and treatment they provided to you, you vowed to see them free of their enslavement, and so began to plan their uprising.

While the cave-in had been highly destructive, it also had sealed off the priestess’s holdings from her allies. Leaving her relatively small force stranded behind thousands of tons of adamantine (the cavern was, quite literally, a fortune waiting to be mined. Also of note, was that her guard captain, a male drow who a penchant for tactics, who, under her rule had been used primarily as a consort, was more than willing to work to the ends of seeing her dead.

The plan unfolded brilliantly and successfully. The priestess’s remaining loyal forces were no match for the guard captain’s strategic wit, and were simply too meager after the cave-in to put up a decent fight. Four hours after it began, the priestess was slain, the slaves were free, and her holdings (including a magically worded keep) were yours.

It didn’t take long for male drow and the slaves to realize that they were in a very awkward and very dangerous position. Non-drow without protection would always be considered slaves, and the renegade male drow would be slain once word got out of their betrayal. The end decision was to ally with you and stay in the keep and its surrounding areas. Thus, the city of Blackstone was founded in the ruins of the priestess’s holdings.

Years went by as your city worked the surrounding area to make it defendable against the retaliation from the drow that the guard-captain insisted was inevitable. Around year 5 of the renovation/refortification process, a tribe of dwarves broke through the adamantine wall on the east side of the cavern. The Brass-Hammer dwarves had been chased from their original holdings by drow forces into the cavern. Drow-dwarf tensions ran high, and it looked as though the two would go at it in a matter of days. But years of bridging the gap between drow and non-drow had given you an edge in diplomacy needed, and, in time, you convinced them to join forces against the greater enemy. After all, a war was coming.

By the time war came to Blackstone it was far more than a simple rabble of escaped slaves and renegade males. The Drow had presumed that by waiting long enough, the rebellion would run out of resources and be easier to take. They presumed wrong. When they finally infiltrated the cavern proper, they found Blackstone to be a stone’s throw away from a metropolis. In the time given, you had used the dwarves tunneling to network with other tribes and cities that stood against the drow. Four months before the attacks began, the Ashen Compact, a loose organization dedicated to destroying drow dominance had reformed after hundreds of years and formally declared Blackstone their base of operations. Furthermore, over time, word of Blackstone had spread throughout the Underdark, and other escaped slaves and renegade male drow had been flowing into its territory, seeking to forge a new existence. With help from the Brass-Hammers, the four primary entrances to the cavern had been fortified, and, at the insistence of the guard-captain, all citizens of Blackstone were trained as soldiers.

The Siege of Blackstone lasted for 13 months with heavy casualties on the side of the attackers compared to almost nonexistent losses on the side of the defenders. Blackstone’s ability to effectively rotate forces into and out of combat, coupled with a solid defense network was too much. The drow, who were trained for subtle and swift attacks were not prepared for the task of cracking Blackstone’s solid adamantine gates, and then fighting through sea of after unrelenting sea of citizen soldiers. In the end, the siege was turned, and the houses that participated in the attack nearly drained of resources. Blackstone, in turn, was now in a position to expand its territory and presence.

You served as high lord of the city from its meager beginnings, to initial rise, to siege, and long into its age of expansion. In your time you saw the people of Blackstone transform from a couple hundred slaves and renegade male drow to a vast metropolis of thousands of members of all the races of the Underdark. When you died many decades later, the Blackstone’s population had risen to nearly 100,000 and was still bastion of protection from the evils of the realm below.

(Ending ECL 29 (if you feel like rebuilding))
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Postby Mr_Praetorian » Mon Feb 04, 2008 5:59 am

The fate of Keravel…

The life of the elven wizard Keravel is, at once, both a dark and hideous fragment that floats in your mind, and a great mystery. The remaining shards of memories from that light continue to haunt you, yet; you cannot grasp fully what they mean. However, it was whatever atrocities he committed that have damned you to you existence as a Hellbred.

The name that all have called you in your current manifestation is Voltarix the Forsaken Crusader. Since the day that you stepped from the Hellish flames that forged you, you have strived to fight off the forces of evil wherever they have so chosen to arise. Fighting, striving to save your soul from its nigh-irreversible course to the Nine Hells. Yet, you cannot clear from your mind the fragments of your life as Keravel. Some are better than others, almost comforting.

You remember being an elven student in a magnificent Wizard Academy in a city made of living wood. You recall casting your first cantrips under the guide of your instructors. You had a knack for evocations; they always said you would make a great battle mage. But you did not pursue training as such an arcanist. Instead, you chose the live of an adventurer, and left the comfort of your home city to see the world.

Several years of adventuring and exploring followed. Over the course of your journeys, you befriended many different creatures. Of note were the adventurers that traveled with you to a place Elsir Vale. Their names, and those you fought alongside during your time are lost to antiquity.

The details you can make of your adventures in the Vale are quite glorious. Everything from dragon slaying to fighting off a horde of goblinoids occurred during this part of your travels. You know that you were a hero to these people at some point; revered by many and rightly feared by those who stood against you.

You recall breaking an army, slaying a king, and challenging the might of a goddess; after that, a deluge and a decent into pure, irredeemable evil. Whatever it was that they found sleeping within your soul, it changed you. It made you into a walking manifestation of the stuff of nightmares. It made you a monster.

The devils opened the door, but it was the demons that awoke within you a power that had slept in your soul for all your life. You awoke after months of their vile experimentation as a tool of evil, and would be so used to wreak havoc and chaos upon the whims of your demonic masters. These fragments are particularly torturous to you, for they remind of you of how you ended up with the plight of a Hellbred.

Most horrific of all, are the memories of a great battle fought at a city that you once vowed your life to defend. You remember being called through a great portal with your Balor master. You recall marshaling a force of demons and giants, and throwing them upon the denizens of the veil. You can still hear the pained and terrified screams of citizens of a city called Dennovar that you helped sack before moving on to Brindol.

But, Brindol had allies. From the great forests elves flew in upon great owls, and from the South marched a great, steel-clad column of dwarves. Though your forces were great, the defenses of Brindol had been greatly improved upon since the last siege. The demon-giant host was met by a strong and courageous alliance of dwarves, elves, and humans; some old enough to remember the last time war came to the city.

These allies, while potent, seemed trivial when compared to a force of bull-men that arrived with a copper dragon on the fourth day of the siege, however. Their leader in particular haunts you to this day. Not because of his prowess, nor the fact that you once knew each other, but that on that day you betrayed your friend.

Taur had become strong during the years in between: strong enough to slay dozens of giants, and almost half of the greater demons, including your master, before you fired a ray of hellish flame through his skull.

Yet, it was in the moment that you slew him, that you were awakened to what you were doing. As Taur’s lifeless body hit the ground, you awoke, and the century of demonic influence that had dominated your life simply faded away. As the copper dragon flew by, dragging her claws through your chest cavity, your final thoughts were feelings of remorse and shame.

By those final thoughts, however, your accursed fate to serve in the legions of soul shells was delayed. Because you had realized the error of your ways before you began your drift upon the Shelves of Despond, you were given a choice: resign yourself to an eternity of torture, or be reborn as a Hellbred. You chose the latter, and, to this day, you continue on your quest for redemption.

(Ending ECL: 23)
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