SESSION XI
Catastrophe of Arcanix
January 9, 2015
Embedded Files
Ethelred (Dan), Korth (Eddie), Gedar (Obaid), Grapé (Owen), Derek (Shane)
he heroes had just learned that the military received wind of the invasion thanks to Caoven, that the mayor Rumolf the Life-Giver is actually a red dragon, and the town has a sizeable Kobold population. Korth, Ethelred, Gedar, and Grapé visited the marketplace to buy various weapons and musical instruments (Grapé bought a set of bagpipes, a flute and a drum). M.C. perused the market but decided to talk to the villagers instead. She was specifically interested in Rumolf the Life-Giver and how he had become the mayor. From what she could gather he used to be a terror to the surrounding countryside doing normal dragon things like hoarding wealth and taking tributes. When the mayor died of old age, Rumolf was given the mayor’s position through odd dealings with the Queen herself. Now a huge following of kobolds who worshiped him as a god lived here much happier than ever before.
Gedar left the market early to visit the eastern front of the town where construction was underway for the coming battle. Past the sharp wooden barricades were a group of five wizards writing in small booklets and mixing alchemical concoctions. They were balancing and placing magical landmines that changed the fireball and lightning bolt spells to require the pressing of a plate as a somatic component. With his help they were able to scatter them throughout the area where the armies would clash, to be activated later. Ethelred took a thick sheet of bulette skin to a leatherworker to be made into a bespoke cape. When everyone came back together at 6:00–7:00 p.m. they ate dinner together and looked toward the local delicacies. One was a rock lizard slow roasted with mustard sauce on a kebab, and the other was a special bread bowl using sourdough bread made with cinnamon and salt. After a hearty dinner they all went to bed.
Gedar was an elf so he only needed to truly sleep for eight hours. The night before he had spent time turning a trident that he had bought from the market into a new spell focus. He spilled some oil that stained the wood but otherwise it worked fine.
As the sun rose and he was outside training with the trident he saw Malthar the half-orc militiaman running towards him. “It’s time, it’s time! The horns of war are about to be blown, help me rouse your friends!”
Malthar’s meaty fist pounded on the door as loud horns could be heard from the front line a few miles away. Everyone jumped out of bed and dressed as quickly as possible. Malthar led them to a point a few hundred meters away from the front line they had defended earlier, to the sound of pounding Aundarian war drums and Thrane bagpipes. At the top of a hill was a large fifteen-by-fifteen-foot arbalest firing magical bolts of energy at the sky. As the armies clashed, streaks of purple arcane energy and white divine fire shot down the air-support of Thrane wingwyrds, keeping the air in a stalemate.
The party’s job was to keep the arbalest safe in case the line broke and soldiers rushed forward. They all spread out, keeping an eye on the wooden barricades and trenches where archers shot arrows and hurled spells. M.C. and Gedar stood next to the arbalest and smelled a pungent whiff of ozone. A portal opened up ten feet from the arbalest and four people stepped out; Patrick Dariznu (whom the heroes just escaped), two clerics of the Silver Flame (Korth recognized one as Nigel) and Gargy the gargoyle.
Patrick grabbed green flask from his belt and threw it at the arbalest, causing it to catch on fire. M.C. guessed that three more sources of damage like that would cause it to stop working. Everyone besides M.C. and Gedar were far away, so they fell back from the hill until their melee friends could get in the way.
As Korth, Grapé and Ethelred (in the form of an Allosaurus) began to melee with the clerics, Gedar retreated backwards to stand on a tall rock formation to see everyone clearly. Another portal opened, this time three clerics poured out and rushed at the wizard, seeing him on his tower of rocks. He managed to dispel the portal so that no more could come through. M.C. used the spell Command to make Patrick give up his two remaining flasks of alchemical fire to Grapé, who had just climbed up the rock formation instead of walking around. Being handed the flasks of deadly green flame he simply threw it back at him, hurting Patrick.
Gargy lifted his hands to the heavens and said, “Hey man, pimp my ride… and by ride, I mean healing spells… if you want…” A beam shot down from the sky and suffused all of his allies with warm white light. All of the healing spells that were cast gave the maximum amount of healing.
As Patrick locked blades with Grapé all of the soldiers near them went slack, dropping whatever they were doing and looking off into the distance. Their eyes went charcoal black and their heads began to spin 360-degrees around, bones snapping and flesh tearing. Looking towards the clashing army a number of the Thrane soldiers were doing the same thing. Strangely the shape of the soldiers looked like a pentagram in the rectangular phalanx of the Thrane infantry. Every single one of them chanted a name none of them had ever heard before: “Sul Katesh! Sul Katesh! Sul Katesh! Sul Katesh! Sul Katesh!” They could hear Patrick say “Gods help us all… the Flame… the Host… oh gods!” as he and all of the afflicted soldiers exploded in a burst of bloody gore and liquified bone. Standing in most of the clerics place were a lesser form of demon called a dretch which tore into Aundairan and Thrane soldier alike. In Patrick’s place in particular stood a barlgura, a demon spellcaster. Everyone could telepathically hear the thoughts of this abomination: “Foolish mortals, our king will rise once again thanks to your petty squabbles!”
The demons fought with extreme strength and vitality, not easily being damaged by normal weapons and having resistance to most forms of fire, cold, and lightning. All around great fissures in the earth opened up, pouring the scent of fire and brimstone along with thousands of demons. Dretches made up most of that number but dozens of mosquito-like demons known as chasme flew out to attack the dragonhawk riders and wingwyrds. As the dretches tore at their heels they released a pungent gas out of their skin that made them retch, Ethelred felt immediately sick to his stomach when (in dinosaur form) he took a bite out of one. The barlgura cast a spell that caused the majority of the group to be entangled in thick black vines that spewed out of the ground and kept hold of their legs. Then the barlgura jumped the entire fourty-feet and landed next to Gedar.
“Mortal spellcasters know nothing of the power of Sul Katesh!” The demon’s words could telepathically be heard by all in the surrounding area. Gedar flew away from the ape-like demon but took a huge blow to the ribs while escaping, knocking the wind out of his lungs. Everyone felt that deep beneath the earth something was stirring, causing minor earthquakes every couple of seconds; powerful roaring like a combination between a gurgling brook and a large reptile sounded from deep beneath the ground, apparently loud enough despite the stone between itself and the surface. Unable to escape from the bludgeoning vines they were helpless but to watch the barlgura throw a huge ball of black sparkling fire at them, singing their clothes and catching some of them on fire. It seemed hopeless for the party as even the dretches laughed and smiled at the pain they caused.
Suddenly the open crevasses stopped spewing demons and sulphuric smelling gas. Black smoke, colder than anything they had ever experienced, spewed outwards and upwards, cresting in a tidal-like wave fifty-feet tall. Everything over which it swept turned black and necrotic, dying almost immediately. It did not matter whether Aundarian soldier, a Thrane soldier, innocent bystander caught in the battle, or even demons. They all withered and decayed to lifeless husks that cried out in pain and fright. All at once the wave crashed over the party… and they went unconscious.
***
When they awoke, they found themselves standing in a field of nightmares. Everything in this part of the forest had died along with the soldiers, and even though the sky shone bright with the evening sun it was depressing to look at. Near where their bodies had fallen the grass and any spare objects mysteriously were untouched. Korth realized that the mark on his chest tingled with sharp needles of pain, and the chainmail he wore had grown so hot that the mark had basically been burned into the metal, just hot enough to change the color. Everyone else got a look at the mark before he covered himself, mysteriously embarrassed by what his party had seen.
From the death and decay a halfling appeared. He wore a white cassock with a big red plus symbol on it. Shocked at having found any survivors he did his best to mend their wounds and guided them back to a healer’s tent beyond the field of slaughter. Unfortunately, there were almost no survivors of the giant death wave, it had killed the entire Aundarian and Thrane army. But that was the extent, as the town and surrounding lands were unharmed. In walked Rumolf the Life-Giver, astonished to hear news of any survivors. According to him the sages of the College were calling this the Catastrophe of Arcanix. Lifting his left hand, he showed them that he had been on the very edge of the wave, chasing after a strike team trying to sneak into town. His left hand barely touched the wispy smoke and the tips of his fingers looked like they needed to be chopped off. The Queen had just arrived at the College and would want to speak with them.
He took them outside and stood in a clearing. They heard the same sound of air being sucked into a vacuum and watched him transform into his true dragon from. It looked like his entire body was shining light until you could only see the outline of his body, then the outline grew and shifted to that of a dragon. When the light stopped, instead of a handsome man in his thirties a gargantuan red dragon stood. “Get on!” he boomed.
It was simultaneously the coolest and most dangerous thing they had ever done. He catapulted himself into the air with his powerful claws, flying at speeds faster than any of them had expected with his great red wings. They arrived in a sort of psuedo-hangar where dragonhawk riders and other magical flying vehicles were stored by those visiting the college. Normal people use college sanctioned dragonhawk shuttles, but they made an exception for the mayor. The same white light and border shifting occured but this time he became a man. The College of Arcanix was a beautiful place full of open classrooms, gargantuan libraries and magical resevoirs. He led the adventurers up a long flight of stairs. There were so many that those who were not prepared needed to breathe heavily for a few minutes to regain their breath, though Rumolf was fine. He opened a set of doors into a large chamber room where a semicircle of tall chairs sat around a raised pedestal. Standing on the pedestal was a tall human woman they guessed was the queen. She was a gorgeous woman with long flowing brown hair and a golden diadem in the shape of an eagle’s wings. Her bronze and purple dress resembled armor, with gleaming golden metal on her chest and shoulders. Surprisingly to the adventurers, their friend Caoven was visible discoursing with the queen.
“My lady, Queen Aurala,” said the mayor, bowing deeply before straightening. “I am sorry to interrupt you, but I believe these individuals are of extreme importance to current events. They seem to be the only ones to have survived the catastrophe of Arcanix, as the sages are calling it.”
She turned from frowning at Caoven to look at the group of adventurers.
“Ah, you must be the people Caoven speaks of. I have heard a lot about you from him — how you are key players in this “prophecy” of his. Tell me, was it you who stopped House Cannith from creating a new generation of Warforged? Was it you that allowed him to alert us of the impending assault from Thrane?”
“Indeed, your majesty,” responds Ethelred. “Though such efforts were not perhaps as linearly planned as our friend may have said. Nonetheless, they are done.”
“That is also interesting. Thanks to your efforts my country has not lost any territory. I will have to reward you handsomely for protecting my interests and that of the Aundairian people as a whole — even if it was not your intention. Now… off to the topic of our friend here,” she motioned a hand to the prostrate and concealed Caoven. “If my recollection is correct, you have had dealings with this… prophet before. Would you consider him a bad person? Even evil?”
Everyone thinks for a moment, but they all agree that he doesn not seem like a bad person.
“An interesting take on the situation, I will admit. I ask you this because I am considering dragging him to Thronehold myself and charging him with war crimes.”
A murmur of confusion rings out from the party, but she simply motioned towards Caoven and said, “Tell them, prophet.”
Caoven stood to face the party, robes completely covering his body except for his head, arms underneath. “I’m so sorry. When great evils begin to arrive on the scope of time, those who can pierce the veil and predict the future begin to… lose their vision. A week before the Day of Mourning occurred — the destruction of an entire kingdom — the same thing happened. So, when I lost my vision, I suspected something truly devastating was going to happen. Something evil was stirring beneath our world and hungered for release.
“Like the Day of Mourning, I had no idea how severe the situation would be. I wanted to stop the Last War from starting anew, but I never suspected that demons had possessed half of the Thrane military force. Not only were they demons, but they were also servants of someone called… called… Sul Khatesh.
“When the world was young and the Progenitor Dragons had only just settled into what we call Eberron, demons ruled the world. Their leaders were called Overlords, and they committed acts so heinous it took dragons thousands of years to rebel against them. Using ancient magic lost to time they sealed away these demonic tyrants deep beneath the ground. Khyber, the Dragon Below. The last time an Overlord rose from his eldritch binding, a whole new religion was formed to bind it back to that realm of madness. Somehow, without knowing, the wizards built the Arcane Congress and Arcanix above the resting place of an Overlord. I was able to decipher all of this only minutes before his chains would be broken.
Something had to be done to stop his rise. If not, demons would rage across Khorvaire and do more damage than a puny war could ever hope to accomplish. So, I released something lesser — yet still powerful enough to prevent the Overlord’s rise… resulting in all that death.”
Caoven dropped the robe off of his shoulder, revealing that the shirt of his leather tunic was gone, and the inside of his robe was heavily stained with blood. On his chest was a large mark of Death that glowed with dark energy. Carved into his chest was an open wound in the shape of a pentagram above the magical birthmark.
“I haven’t been truthful about who I am. My name is Caoven, but my family name is almost four thousand years old. I am Caoven Vol, the Bearer of Minara’s Burden. We were once a dragonmarked house, like House Cannith or Orien, but only of elves. Our powers were over the forces of life, death, and undeath and we were once formidable.
“In an attempt to bring together the long-hated elves and dragons, my sister and I were created. Half elf — half dragon. Our birth brought the elves and dragons together, but only to exterminate us. They feared what we might become.
“Their fear was well placed, because both me and my sister, Erandis Vol, were turned into undead that couldn’t be killed. Our very souls were linked to the Prophecy, and thus we can never truly die. When all of the House Vol elves were wiped away in genocide the prophecy had no way to express its message regarding Death. Thus, it chose a new race to bear the mark of death. Dragonborn. You might not be the only one, Korth, but you’re the first I’ve found.”
Korth was stunned by this revelation, everyone else realizing that the mark Korth was trying to hide is some kind of dragonmark.
“That’s why I killed her body myself and stored her soul in my body through foul sorcery. It was the only way to lock her away all these millenia and prevent her from achieving her goals. When I knew that the end of the world might come soon, I carved into myself to release her back to this world. She stopped the rise of Sul Khatesh—”
“—by killing over seven hundred people, most of which were of my kingdom,” interrupted the Queen.
“I could not risk all of creation to the monster that is the Whisper of the Void, the Raja of Rakshasha, the Harvester of Souls. Instead, I chose the lesser evil… releasing an unkillable monster who seeks to become the Avatar of Death.”
After a few seconds of silence, Caoven collapses from the bleeding. Aurala makes a stop motion with her hand and says that, “leave him be. I must still decide what to do about this… man.”
She resumes speaking again.
“Regardless of what that man says is a ‘lesser evil,’ he still caused the deaths of over seven hundred people. I would not be surprised if all this prophecy is a bunch of crazed ramblings. Damn my husband for believing in these prophecies… no matter. You all deserve some closure. If there really is an immortal necromancer on the loose, I will need your assistance in protecting the people of Aundair from another tragedy such as this, since it seems that you are somehow connected to her.
“What I offer is not to be taken lightly. Working for the Aundairan Crown can be dangerous, more than anything you may have every seen before in your travels. You could wake up one day with adventure and gold lining your pockets, the next a knife in your back.
“It also comes with rewards. Lands. Titles. A place in history as servants of the people. Access to all the medical, magical, and military facilities to arm yourself with steel and knowledge.”
They took a minute to consider their options. They didn not have to, as they were not beholden to Caoven beyond the money promised to them. Eventually they decided that they were okay with working for the Aundairan Crown.
She drew the sword belted at her hip, which seemed to be the original for all the replica swords Aundarian military officials wore. They each took a knee, and she placed the sword on each shoulder, repeating the same strange incantation. When she was done the blade flared with purple magic, and each party member felt a strange warmth and familiarity in their hearts (as a boon for becoming full Eldritch Knights, they each received a permanent +2 bonus to Arcana checks).
“This mission will involve teleporting you to Trolanport until a suitable vessel can be charted to the southern continent. Xen’Drik is very dangerous, full of xenophobic natives, powerful giants and venomous… well, seemingly everything is venomous in that place. You cannot just teleport there because there is no infrastructure for it, the continent is so unexplored that only one major city exists.”
In exchange for joining the crown she the party 250 gp, and each of them 100 gp from the cash that Caoven promised them — but which he was unable to deliver, having had his assets seized by the Crown.
Original campaign diary
Original campaign diary
We left last session with the arrival of the party in Arcanix, a town soon to be invaded by an army from Thrane. They had just learned that the military had received wind of the invasion thanks to Caoven and the party in general, the mayor Rumolf the Life-Giver is actually a red dragon, and the town has a sizeable Kobold population. Korth, Ethelred, Gedar and Grapé visited the marketplace to buy various weapons and musical instruments (Grapé bought a set of bagpipes, a flute and a drum). MC perused the market but decided instead to talk to the people around them about the town. She was specifically interested in Rumolf the Life-Giver and how he had become the mayor. From what she could gather he used to be a terror to the surrounding countryside doing normal dragon things like hoarding wealth and taking tributes. When the mayor died of old age he was given the mayor's position through strange dealings with the Queen herself. Now the huge following of kobolds that worshiped him as a god live here much happier than before.
Gedar left the market early to visit the eastern front of the town where construction was underway for the coming battle. Past the sharp wooden barricades were a group of five wizards writing in small booklets and mixing alchemical concoctions. They were balancing and placing magical landmines that changed the fireball and lightning bolt spells to require the pressing of a plate as a somatic component. With his help they were able to scatter them throughout the area where the armies would clash to be activated later. Ethelred took a thick sheet of Bulette skin to a leather-worker to be made into a special cape to improve his Armor class. When everyone came back together at 6-7 PM they ate dinner together and looked toward the local delicacies. One was a rock lizard slow roasted with mustard sauce on a kebab, and the other was a special bread bowl using sourdough bread made with cinnamon and salt. After their hearty dinner they all headed to bed.
Gedar was an elf so he only needed to truly sleep for 8 hours. The night before he had spent time turning a trident he bought from the market into a new spell implement. He spilled some oil that stained the wood but otherwise it worked fine. As the sun rose and he was outside training with the trident he saw Melthar the half-orc militiaman running towards him. "It's time, it's time! The horns of war are about to be blown, help me rouse your friends!". Melthar's meaty fist pounded on the door as loud horns could be heard from the front line a few miles away. Every jumped out of bed and got dressed as quickly as possible. Melthar led them to a point a few hundred meters away from the front line they had defended earlier to the sound of pounding Aundarian war-drums and Thrane bagpipes. At the top of a hill was a large 15 by 15 foot arbalest firing magical bolts of energy at the sky. As the armies clashed, streaks of purple arcane spells and white divine fire all across the battlefield it shot down the air-support of Wingwyrds that Thrane had, keeping the air in a stalemate.
The party's job was to keep the arbalest safe in case the line broke and soldiers rushed forward. They all spread out, keeping an eye on the wooden barricades and trenches where archers shot arrows and hurled spells. MC and Gedar stood next to the arbalest and smelled a pungent whiff of ozone. A portal opened up 10 feet from the arbalest and four people stepped out; Patrick Dariznu (formerly second in command of the army), two clerics of the Silver Flame (Korth recognized one as Nigel) and Gargy the gargoyle. Patrick grabbed green flask from his belt and threw it at the arbalest, causing it to catch on fire. MC guessed that three more sources of damage like that would cause it to stop working. Everyone besides MC and Gedar were far away, so they fell back from the hill until their melee friends could get in the way.
As Korth, Grapé and Ethelred (in the form of an Allosaurus) began to melee with the clerics Gedar retreated backwards to stand on a tall rock formation to see everyone clearly. Another portal opened, this time three clerics poured out and rushed at the wizard, seeing him on his ivory tower of rocks. He managed to dispel the portal so no more came through to assist their leader. MC used the spellCommand to make Patrick give up his two remaining flasks of Alchemical Fire to Grapé who had just climbed up the rock formation instead of walking around. Being handed the flasks of deadly green flame he simply just threw it back at him, dealing a good amount of damage. Gargy lifted his hands to the heavens and said "Hey man, pimp my ride...and by ride I mean healing spells...if you want...". A beam of white light shot down from the sky and suffused all of his friends with warm white light. All of the healing spells that were cast on them gave the maximum amount of healing.
As Patrick locked blades with Grapé all of the soldiers near them went slack, dropping whatever they were doing and looking off into the distance. Their eyes went charcoal black and their heads began to spin 360 degrees around, bones snapping and flesh tearing. Looking towards the clashing army a number of the Thrane soldiers were also doing the same thing. Strangely the shape of the soldiers looked like a pentagram in the recntagular phalanx of the Thrane infantry. Eveyr single one of them chanted a name none of them had ever heard before: "Sul Katesh! Sul Katesh! Sul Katesh! Sul Katesh! Sul Katesh!". They could all hear Patrick say "Gods help us all...the Flame...the Host...oh GODS" as he and all of the afflicted soldiers exploded in a burst of bloody gore and liquified bone. Standing in most of the clerics place were a lesser form of demon called a dretch that tore into Aundair and Thrane soldier alike. In Patrick's place in particular stood a Barlgura, a demon spellcaster. Everyone could telepathically hear the thoughts of this abomination:
"Foolish mortals, our king will rise once again thanks to your petty squabbles!"
The demons fought with extreme strength and vitality, not being damaged by normal weapons very easily and being resistance to most forms of fire, cold and lightning. All around them great fissures in the earth opened up, pouring the smell of fire and brimstone along with thousands of demons. Dretches made up most of that number but dozens of chasme flew out to attack the Dragonhawk Riders and Wingwyrds. As the dretches tore at their heels they released a pungent gas out of their skin that made them retch, and Ethelred felt immediately sick to his stomach when he took a bite out of one. The Barlgura cast a spell that caused the majority of the party to be entangled in thick black vines that spewed out of the ground and kept around their legs. Then, he jumped the entire 40 feet and landed right next to Gedar.
"Mortal spellcasters know nothing of the POWER of SUL KATESH!" The demon's words could telepathically be heard by all in the surrounding area. Gedar flew away from the ape-like demon but took a huge blow to the ribs while escaping, knocking the wind out of his lungs. Everyone felt that deep beneath the earth something was stirring, causing minor earthquakes every couple of seconds Powerful roaring like a combination between a gurgling brook and a large reptile sounded from deep beneath the ground, apparently loud enough however much stone was between the surface and itself. Unable to escape from the bludgeoning vines they were helpless to watch the Barlgura throw a huge ball of black sparkling fire at them, singing their clothes and catching some of them on fire. It seemed hopeless for the party as even the dretches laughed and smiled at the revelry they caused.
Suddenly the open crevasses stopped spewing demons and sulphuric smelling gas. Black smoke colder than anything they had ever experienced spewed outwards and upwards, cresting in a tidal-like wave fifty feet tall. Everything it swept over turned black and necrotic, dying almost immediately. It didn't matter whether it was an Aundarian soldier, a Thrane soldier, innocent bystanders who were caught in the battle or even demons. They all withered and decayed to lifeless husks that cried out in pain and fright. All at once the wave crashed over the party...and they went unconscious.
When they woke up they found themselves standing in a field of nightmares. Everything in this part of the forest had died along with the soldiers, even though the sky shone bright with the evening sun it was depressing to look at. In a foot direction of where their bodies had fallen the grass and any spare objects mysteriously were untouched. Korth realized that the mark on his chest tingled with sharp needles of pain, and the chainmail he wore had grown so hot that the mark had basically been burned into the metal, just hot enough to change the color. Everyone else got a look at the mark before he covered himself, mysteriously embarrassed by what his party had seen. (It's the bottom left of this picture)
From the death and decay a halfling appeared. He wore a white cassock with a big red plus symbol on it. Shocked that he had found any survivors he did his best to mend their wounds in the field, and guided them back to a healers tent beyond the zone where everything had died. Unfortunately there were almost no survivors of the giant death wave, it had killed the entire Aundarian and Thrane army but that was truly the extent, the town and most surrounding lands were unharmed. In walked Rumolf the Life-Giver, astonished to hear news of any survivors. According to him the sages of the College were calling this the Catastrophe of Arcanix. Lifting his left hand he showed them that he had been on the very edge of the wave, chasing after a strike team trying to sneak into town. His left hand barely touched the wispy smoke and the tips of his fingers looked like they needed to be chopped off. The Queen had just arrived at the College and would want to speak with them.
He took them outside and stood in a clearing. They heard the same sound of air being sucked into a vacuum and watched him transform into his true dragon from. It looked like his entire body was shining light until you could only see the outline of his body, then the outline grew and shifted to that of a dragon. When the light stopped instead of a handsome man in his 30s a gargantuan red dragon stood. "Get on!"
It was simultaneously the coolest and most dangerous thing they had ever done. He catapulted himself into the air with his powerful claws, flying at speeds faster than any of them had expected with his great red wings. They arrived in a sort of psuedo-hangar where dragonhawk riders and other magical flying vehicles were stored by those visiting the college. Normal people use College-sanctioned dragonhawk-shuttles but they made an exception for the mayor. The same white light and border shifting occured but this time he became a man. The College of Arcanix was a beautiful place full of open classrooms, gargantuan libraries and magical resevoirs. He lead them up a long series of flights of stairs. There were so many that those who weren't prepared needed to breathe heavily for a few minutes to regain their breath, all the while Rumolf was fine. He opened a set of doors into a large chamber room where a semicircle of tall chairs sat around a raised pedestal. Standing on the pedestal was a tall human woman they guessed was the queen. She was a gorgeous woman with long flowing brown hair and a golden diadem in the shape of eagle's wings. Her bronze and purple dress showed the semblance of armor in gleaming golden metal on her chest and shoulders.
"My lady, Queen Aurala-" The mayor bows deeply then stands strait "I am sorry to interrupt you, but I believe that these individuals are of extreme importance to current events. They seem to be the only ones to survive the Catastrophe of Arcanix, as the sages are calling it."
She turns from frowning at the deeply bowed Caoven to look at the PCs.
"Ah, you must be the people Caoven speaks of. I've heard a lot about you from him...how you are key players in this "prophecy" of his. Tell me: was it you who stopped House Cannith from creating a new generation of Warforged? Was it you that allowed him to alert us of the impending assault from Thrane?"
"That is also interesting. Thanks to your efforts I've not lost any of my country's territory. I will have to reward you handsomely for protecting my interests and that of the Aundairian people as a whole; even if it wasn't your intention. Now...off to the topic of our friend here." She motions a hand to the still bent over and concealed Caoven.
"Now, if my recollection of events are correct, you've had dealings with this...prophet before. Would you consider him a bad person? Even evil?"
Everyone thinks for a moment but they all agree that he doesn't seem like a bad person.
"An interesting take on the situation, I'll admit. I ask you this because I''m considering dragging him to Thronehold myself, and charging him with war crimes."
A murmur of confusion rang out from the party but she simply motioned towards Caoven and said: "Tell them, prophet."
Caoven stands and faces the party, robes completely covering his body except for his head, arms underneath.
"I'm so sorry. When great evils begin to arrive on the scope of time, those who can pierce the veil and predict the future begin to...lose their vision. A week before the Day of Mourning occured, the destruction of an entire kingdom the same thing happened. So, when I lost my vision I suspected something truly devastating was going to happen. Something evil was stirring beneath our world, andhungered for release.
Like the Day of Mourning, I had no idea how severe the situation would be. I wanted to stop the Last War from starting anew, but I never suspected that demons had possessed half of this Thranemilitary force. Not only were they demons, they were servants of someone called...Sul Khatesh.
When the world was young and the Progenitor Dragons had only just settled into what we call Eberron, demons ruled the world. Their leaders were called Overlords, and they committed acts so heinous it took dragons thousands of years to rebel against them. Using ancient magic lost to time they sealed away these demonic tyrants deep beneath the ground.
Khyber, the Dragon Below.
The last time an Overlord rose from his eldritch binding, a whole new religion was formed to bind it back to that realm of madness. Somehow, without knowing, the wizards built the Arcane Congress and Arcanix above the resting place of an overlord. I was able to decipher all of this only minutes before his chains would be broken. Something had to be done to stop his rise. If not - demons would rage across Khorvaire and do more damage than a puny war could ever hope to accomplish.
So I released something lesser - yet still powerful enough to prevent the Overlord's rise...resulting in all that death."
Caoven drops the robe off of his shoulder, revealing that the shirt of his leather tunic is gone, and that the inside of the robe is heavily stained with blood. On his chest is a large Mark of Death (bottom right of this picture) that glows with black energy. Carved into his chest is an open wound in the shape of a pentagram above the magical birthmark.
"I...haven't been truthful about who I am. My name is Caoven, but my family name is almost 4000 years old. In full I am Caoven Vol...the Bearer of Minara's Burden. We were once a dragonmarkedhouse, like House Cannith or Orien, but only of elves. Our powers were over the forces of life, death and undeath and we were once formidable. In an attempt to bring together the long hated elves and dragons, me and my sister were created.
Half elf...half dragon.
Our birth brought the elves and dragons together...to exterminate us. They feared what we might become.
Their fear was well placed, because both me and my sister Erandis Vol, were turned into undead that couldn't be killed. Our very souls were linked to the Prophecy, and thus...can never truly die. When all of the House Vol elves were wiped away in genocide the prophecy had no way to express its message in regards to Death. Thus, it chose a new race to bear the mark of death. Dragonborn. You might not be the only one, Korth, but you're the first I've found. Korth is stunned by this revelation, everyone else realizing that the mark Korth keeps trying to hide is some kind of Dragonmark. "That's why I killed her body myself and stored her soul in my body through foul sorcery. It was the only way to lock her away all these millenia, and prevent her from achieving her goals. When I knew that the end of the world might soon come, I carved into myself to release her back to this world. She stopped the rise of Sul Khatesh-"
He is interrupted by Queen Aurala: "-by killing almost 750 people, 200-300 of which were people of my kingdom." she said sternly
"I could not risk all of creation to the monster that is the Whisper of the Void, the Raja of Rakshasha, the Harvester of Souls. Instead I chose the lesser evil...releasing an unkillable monster who seeks to become the Avatar of Death."
After a few seconds of silence, Caoven collapses from the bleeding. Aurala makes a stop motion with her hand, and says that "leave him be. I must still decide what to do about this...man."
She resumes speaking again:
"Regardless of what that man says is a lesser evil, he still caused the deaths of over 700 people. I wouldn't be surprised if all this prophecy is a bunch of crazed ramblings. Damn my husband for believing in these prophecies...no matter. You all deserve some closure. If there really is an immortal necromancer on the loose, I will need your assistance in protecting the people of Aundair from another tragedy such as this, since it seems that you are somehow connected to her."
What I offer is not to be taken lightly. Working for the Aundairian Crown can be dangerous, more than anything you may have every seen before in your travels. You could wake up one day with adventure and gold lining your pockets, the next a knife in your back.
It also comes with rewards. Lands. Titles. A place in history as servitor of the people. Access to all the medical, magical and military facilities to arm yourself with steel and knowledge."
They all took a minute to consider their options. They didn't have to, they weren't beholden to Caoven other than by the money he promised them. Eventually they decided that they were okay with working for the Aundarian Crown. She drew the sword belted at her hip, which seemed to be the originator for all the replica swords Aundarian military officials wore. They each took a knee and she placed the sword on each shoulder, repeating the same strange incantation. When she was done the blade flared with purple magic, and each party member felt a strange warmth and familiarity in their hearts. As a boon for becoming full Eldritch Knights they each received a permanent +2 bonus to Arcana checks.
"This mission will involve teleporting to Trolanport until a suitable vessel can be charted to the southern continent. Xen'Drik is very dangerous, full of xenophobic natives, powerful giants and venomous...well, seemingly everything's venomous in that place. You can't just teleport there because there is no infrastructure for it, the continent is so unexplored that only 1 city exists."
In exchange for joining the crown she the party 250 GP, and each of them 100 GP from the money that Caoven promised them but is unable to deliver because she seized his assets.
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