Mikl posted:

achtungnight posted:

Use Kai-Alchemy!

Mikl posted:

Slavic Crime Yacht posted:

It says it's weak. CHARGE

anakha posted:

Make with the magic. It hasn't failed us so far in this rescue.

Mikl posted:

The Captives of Kaag posted:

You utter the words of Counterspell and instantly the wall of crackling energy is dispelled. Moments later the Liganim wands explode with a tremendous flash, killing their wielders. Unfortunately for them, your Counterspell reversed the latent energy of their wands, causing them to overload and self-destruct.

The noise of the dual explosions freezes the escaping Ligan dead in his tracks. He spins around in the archway, his ugly face transfixed into a mask of sheer terror as he watches you come racing towards him with your weapon poised to strike. The sight is too much for his weak heart which ceases to beat moments before you land your blow.

Curing: +1 EP (34/35).

You return to collect Banedon; then, once he is safely across your shoulders, you climb the stairs and hurry through the archway. A tunnel lined with rich wood panelling leads to a chamber where eight smaller passages disappear off in all directions. You scan these exits and a familiar fear returns to haunt you, a fear that you will never find your way out of Kaag alive.

Using your innate healing skills, you try once more to revive Banedon. You remember once, during a tutorial at the Kai Monastery, that Banedon conjured up a vision of the monastery and its surrounding estates. You were able to see yourself in miniature, standing in your chambers as if you were a tiny animated doll in a doll’s house. If he were well enough to perform that spell here in Kaag, you might be able to locate your position and plan a route of escape.

Mustering your skills, you place your hands on Banedon’s chest and transmit your power directly into his heart. (Reduce your ENDURANCE by 3 points.) Gradually Banedon stirs to consciousness and, as his strength returns, rekindled by your healing power, he is able to grant your request. On the floor of the chamber he calls forth a living, three-dimensional vision of Kaag. Gradually this vision expands until you are looking at yourselves, kneeling on the floor of a chamber on one of the upper levels of the central citadel. The vision blurs and fades, but not before you are able to trace the quickest way out of this dreadful place.

The passage which heads due south from this chamber leads directly to the Zlanbeast pens and landing platforms situated on the exterior wall of the citadel, high above the great South Gate. It is from here that you plan to escape, leaving the citadel by the same way you entered it: by air.

Confident that the success of your quest is now within your grasp, you help Banedon to his feet and support him as you make your way along the south passage.

Endurance: 31/35.

With trepidation you follow the passage, praying all the while that Banedon’s vision proves to be correct. Then at last your prayers are answered when, in the distance, you catch your first glimpse of the Zlanbeast pens.

You soon arrive at the entrance to the pens, where, from the safety of the shadows, you stop to observe the activity taking place inside. Lining the walls of the chamber you count more than a dozen cages, each holding a Zlanbeast or several smaller Kraan. Most are feeding, but there are some saddled ready for flight. One of these saddled Zlanbeast is perched nearby on a landing platform from where it casts its idle gaze upon the city far below.

You are contemplating how long it will take you and Banedon to reach the platform and climb aboard the waiting Zlanbeast, when suddenly you notice something strange that arouses your suspicions: there are no handlers or guards on duty in the pen.

Curing: +1 EP (32/35).

You draw your weapon and hold it in your right hand whilst supporting your friend with your left. Then, with a nod of your head, you indicate the Zlanbeast that is perched outside on the platform and whisper to Banedon that it will soon be your transport out of Kaag. He nods his approval and cautiously you take your first few steps into the pen.

An unexpected sound makes you look up and, to your horror, you see a weighted net falling from the ceiling directly onto your heads.

Curing: +1 EP (33/35).
We roll: 4 + 3 (rank) = 7.

Hastily you push Banedon aside then dive to avoid the falling net, the sheer speed with which you react saving you both from becoming trapped like two foxes in a snare. Quickly you spring to your feet and rush to help your fallen companion. As you stoop to lift him, you hear a deep voice cursing you quietly in the shadows. You turn to face the voice, weapon in hand, ready to cut him down. But you are shocked to the core when you see who it is who emerges into the grey light of the pen.

Curing: +1 EP (34/35).

‘So we meet again, Lone Wolf.’

The words, full of hatred, are spoken by a tall, ancient figure, whose gaunt face is framed by a shock of platinum hair. It is Arch Druid Cadak, ruler of Mogaruith, the leader of the Cener Druids of Ruel.

‘What is your purpose here, Cadak?’ you growl in reply, your weapon raised in case he or his minions should attempt to rush you.

‘I am ruler of this city now. After all, is it not fitting that I should inherit the legacy of the Darklords?’ Cadak’s whimsical mood seems to change for the worse, a change reflected in his voice.

‘Your meddlesome intrusions have cost me dear, Kai Lord,’ he hisses. ‘We have a debt to settle and I intend to make you pay what you owe. I brought you here. It was my purpose. I have no interest in the inferior magic of this fool you call friend,’ he says, sneering at Banedon, ‘yet I knew he would be bait enough to lure you.’

Slowly he steps towards the shadows and you tense yourself, fearing an imminent attack.

‘Now you will settle your debt … ’ he says, almost in a whisper, ‘once and for all!’

He snaps his fingers and you hear the creak of a heavy iron door slowly opening. Then a low, snorting noise echoes through the pen, stirring the caged Kraan and Zlanbeast to sudden frenzy. You steel yourself and cast your eyes around in a desperate attempt to see what it is that is responsible for this sudden uproar. Then the cause emerges into the light and your blood runs ice cold in your veins when you look upon its terrible face.

Curing: +1 EP (35/35).

Emerging from the shadows with slow purposeful steps comes a huge rodent-like creature. Its mustard-coloured body and its six claw-tipped legs are thick and powerful, corded with muscle that ripples as it moves. Its head is monstrous, the jaw seeming too large for the skull. This entire bony structure extends beyond the lips and is studded with large spade-like teeth.



It turns its great head to look at you with cruel deep-set eyes and an eerie cry breaks from its maw. Cadak laughs with undisguised glee and, upon his command, the creature gathers speed and attacks.

moosecow333 posted:

I was actually thinking of putting some of them into my campaign as well. Which ones worked the best for you?

Mikl posted:

Use the bow and loving shoot Cadak, not the beast. Cadak!

Guy Fawkes posted:

Bow.

The Captives of Kaag posted:

You draw your Arrow and let fire at the creature’s head, aiming for its eyes, but it twists its powerful neck as the shaft approaches and it lodges harmlessly between its teeth. The great jaw chomps down, pulping the Arrow which it spits back at you with contempt. Hastily you drop your Bow and draw a hand weapon as the shadow of the beast falls upon you.

With a manic cry, the creature lunges at your head in an attempt to impale you upon its shovel-like teeth. You sidestep the attack and lash out at its throat before it can dodge your blow. You strike and open a gash in the leathery hide, but it is shallow and does not deter the beast from launching a second attack.

The Captives of Kaag posted:

Aching with battle fatigue and the pain of your wounds, you stumble and fall to your knees before the mighty Zavaghar. Cadak laughs like a madman and screams for his creature to finish you off quickly. The beast rises up on its hind legs in readiness to strike you a killing blow, but suddenly, as it reaches its full height, its limbs and torso become stiff and its movements jerky.

Slay the beast, Lone Wolf! whispers Banedon, the words forming in your mind. I cannot hold it for long.

You glance to where your friend is lying and see that his trembling hand is stretched out towards the towering Zavaghar. Inspired by his courageousness, you shake off your fatigue and rush forwards to plunge your weapon deep into the exposed belly of the beast, striking it a mortal wound barely moments before Banedon’s spell of Holding fails.

Curing: +1 EP (11/35).
Laumspur: +4 EP (15/35).

The Zavaghar shrieks in agony and comes crashing to the floor, its limbs flailing and its jaw chattering wildly as it ekes out the last throes of death.

‘No! No! No!’ screams Arch Druid Cadak, his voice filled with anger and bitter frustration. ‘It cannot be! It cannot be!’

Madly he rushes across the pen and stares with open-mouthed incredulity at the carcass of the huge Zavaghar, his eyes wide with disbelief. Meanwhile, you have helped Banedon to his feet and the two of you have begun to hurry towards your means of escape which is still perched on the landing platform.

Suddenly, Cadak recovers from his shock and, seeing the two of you escaping, screams an order to his remaining Drakkarim to prevent you from getting away.

You reach the winged creature and, using your Magnakai skills, you manage to subdue it to your command. Arrows and crossbow bolts fly past, dangerously close, fired by those Drakkarim who have responded to Cadak’s order. You try to ignore these missiles as you mount the Zlanbeast and heave Banedon roughly across its great scaly neck.

With a sharp kick, you urge the Zlanbeast into the air and, as it soars away from the platform, you glance back to see Cadak shaking his fist and screaming vile curses.



You laugh at his displeasure, but your laughter chokes in your throat when you notice a battery of heavy bolt-throwers lining the battlements above the pens. They are manned by Giak soldiers, and, as you fly past them, they discharge a cloud of deadly missiles.

Curing: +1 EP (16/35).
We roll: 3

You push down on the Zlanbeast’s head and send it into a steep dive, a swift action which saves you from being knocked out of the sky by the cloud of deadly bolts. The streets of Kaag come rushing towards you with unnerving speed, but you control the winged creature skilfully, reining it in to level off in time to clear the ramparts of the South Gate. As you pass over this gate you catch sight of something strange yet wondrous to behold.

Curing: +1 EP (17/35).

Below you is the South Gate of Kaag. Its surface is covered by the hide of Nyxator, preserved by the Darklords as a trophy of Naar’s evil power. Nyxator was the first servant of the God Kai to appear on Magnamund and the form he chose to adopt was that of a great dragon. He was the first recipient of Kai’s wisdom, a wisdom he encapsulated in the Lorestones for the future good of all who follow the way of Kai.



You stare down at the face of your ancient ancestor and, for a fleeting moment, you detect the trace of a smile upon its fossilized lips. Then, in the next instant, you plunge into a bank of stormy grey cloud and the dread city of Kaag is lost to view.

By the time you find your way back to the Skyrider, the storm has blown itself out. Your return is met with cheers and joyous celebration for your quest has been a great success. Lord Rimoah is especially pleased and he praises you warmly:

‘Against all odds,’ he says, his voice filled with pride, ‘you have rescued our friend from the nightmare fortress of Kaag and delivered him safely into the arms of his loyal crew.’

Congratulations, Grand Master Lone Wolf. You have triumphed once again, proving beyond doubt that you embody the ideals of the Kai. You have saved your closest friend from the clutches of the evil druid Cadak and confounded his plans.

Yet the fight against Evil goes ever on. Soon your courage and skills will be put to the test again, this time in a far distant realm of Magnamund. The nature of the quest and the perils that await you can be found in the next Grand Master adventure entitled:

The Darke Crusade

Curing: +1 EP (18/35).

Tiggum posted:

Use Psi-surge whenever the Combat Ratio is below 3.

nelson posted:

Use Alether whenever we are at negative CR and the enemy has more EP than us.

ShadowWraith posted:

Automatically use a Potion of Alether for any fight with a Combat Ratio -7 or worse.

Maugrim posted:

Use Laumspur as soon as possible after EP drops below 20

The Darke Crusade posted:

The Story So Far … 

You are Grand Master Lone Wolf, last of the Kai Lords of Sommerlund and sole survivor of a massacre that wiped out the First Order of your élite warrior caste.

It is the year MS 5076 and twenty-six years have passed since your brave kinsmen perished at the hands of the Darklords of Helgedad. These champions of evil, who were sent forth by Naar, the King of the Darkness, to destroy the fertile world of Magnamund, have themselves since been destroyed. You vowed to avenge the murder of the Kai and you kept your pledge, for it was you who brought about their downfall when alone you infiltrated their foul domain—the Darklands—and caused the destruction of their leader, Archlord Gnaag, and the seat of his power that was the infernal city of Helgedad.

In the wake of their destruction, chaos befell the Darkland armies who, until then, had been poised to conquer all of Northern Magnamund. Some factions which were part of this huge army, most notably the barbaric Drakkarim, began to fight with the others for control. This disorder quickly escalated into an all-out civil war, which allowed the Freeland armies of Magnamund time in which to recover and launch a counter-offensive. Skilfully their commanders exploited the chaos and secured a swift and total victory over an enemy far superior in numbers.

For six years now peace has reigned in Sommerlund. Under your direction, the once-ruined Monastery of the Kai has been thoroughly rebuilt and restored to its former glory, and the task of teaching a Second Order of Kai warriors the skills and proud traditions of your ancestors is also well under way. The new generation of Kai recruits, all of whom were born during the era of war against the Darklords, possess latent Kai skills and all show exceptional promise. These skills will be nurtured and honed to perfection during their time at the monastery so that they may teach and inspire future generations, thereby ensuring the continued security of your homeland in future years.

Your attainment of the rank of Kai Grand Master brought with it great rewards. Some, such as the restoration of the Kai and the undying gratitude of your fellow Sommlending, could have been anticipated. Yet there have also been rewards which you could not possibly have foreseen. The discovery that within you lay the potential to develop Kai Disciplines beyond those of the Magnakai, which, until now, were thought to be the ultimate that a Kai Master could aspire to, was truly a revelation. Your discovery has inspired you to set out upon a new and previously unknown path in search of the wisdom and power that no Kai Lord before you has ever possessed. In the name of your creator, the God Kai, and for the greater glory of Sommerlund and the Goddess Ishir, you have vowed to reach the very pinnacle of Kai perfection—to attain all of the Grand Master Disciplines and become the first Kai Supreme Master.

With diligence and determination you set about the restoration of the Kai Monastery and organized the training of the Second Order recruits. Your efforts were soon rewarded and, within the space of two short years, the first raw recruits had graduated to become a cadre of gifted Kai Masters who, in turn, were able to commence the teaching of their skills to subsequent intakes of Kai novices. Readily the Kai Masters rose to their newfound responsibilities, leaving you free to devote more of your time to the pursuit and perfection of the Grand Master Disciplines. During this period you also received expert tutelage in the ways of magic from two of your most trusted friends and advisors: Guildmaster Banedon, leader of the Brotherhood of the Crystal Star, and Lord Rimoah, speaker for the High Council of the Elder Magi.

In the deepest subterranean level of the monastery, one hundred feet below the Tower of the Sun, you ordered the excavation and construction of a special vault. In this magnificent chamber wrought of granite and gold, you placed the seven Lorestones of Nyxator, the gems of Kai power that you had rediscovered during your quest for the Magnakai. It was here, bathed in the golden light of those radiant gems, that you spent countless hours in pursuit of perfection. Sometimes alone, sometimes in the company of your two most able advisors—Banedon and Rimoah—you worked hard to develop your innate Grand Master Disciplines, and grasp the fundamental secrets of Left-handed and Old Kingdom magic. During this time you noticed many remarkable changes taking place within your body: you became physically and mentally stronger, your five primary senses sharpened beyond all that you had experienced before, and, perhaps most remarkably, your body began to age at a much slower rate. Now for every five years that elapse you age but one year.

At this time many changes were occurring beyond the borders of Sommerlund. In the regions to the northeast of Magador and the Maakengorge, the Elder Magi of Dessi and the Herbwardens of Bautar were working together in an effort to restore the dusty volcanic wasteland to its former fertile state. It was the first tentative step towards the reclamation of all the Darklands. However, their progress was painfully slow, and both parties were resigned to the fact that their efforts to undo the damage caused by the Darklords would take not years but centuries to complete.

In the far west, the Drakkarim had retreated to their homelands and were engaged in a bloody war against the Lencians. Much of southern Nyras1 had been reclaimed by the armies of King Sarnac, the Lencian commander, and his flag now flew over territory which, two thousand years ago, had once been part of Lencia.

Following the destruction of the Darklords of Helgedad, the Giaks, the most prolific in number of all of Gnaag’s troops, fled into the Darklands and sought refuge in the gigantic city-fortresses of Nadgazad, Aarnak, Gournen, Akagazad, and Kaag. Within each of these hellish strongholds fierce fighting broke out as remnants of the Xaghash (lesser Darklords) and the Nadziranim (evil practitioners of Right-handed magic who once aided individual Darklord masters) fought for control. It is widely believed that by the time the Elder Magi and the Herbwardens reach the walls of these strongholds they will encounter no resistance; the occupants will have long since brought about their own extinction.

Elsewhere, throughout Northern Magnamund, peace reigns victorious and the peoples of the Free Kingdoms rejoice in the knowledge that the age of the Darklords has finally come to an end. Readily men have exchanged their swords for hoes and their shields for ploughs, and now the only marching they do is along the ruts of their freshly furrowed fields. Few are the watchful eyes that scan the distant horizon in fear of what may appear, although there are still those who maintain their vigilance, for the agents of Naar come in many guises and there are those upon Magnamund who wait quietly in the shadows for the chance to do his evil bidding.

Only a year ago the evil Cener Druids of Ruel attempted to enact Naar’s revenge. Secretly, in the laboratories of their foul stronghold of Mogaruith, they had laboured to create a virulent plague virus capable of killing every living creature upon Magnamund, save their own kind. Word of their terrible plan reached Lord Rimoah who immediately urged the rulers of the Freelands to raise armies and invade Ruel. Hurriedly they complied, but the invasion ended in disaster. Seven thousand fighting men entered Ruel intent on storming the fortress of Mogaruith and razing it to the ground. Seven thousand marched into the dark realm; only seventy emerged alive. The Ceners were within days of perfecting their ultimate weapon when you took up the challenge and ventured alone into Mogaruith.

Despite overwhelming odds you thwarted their evil plan by destroying the virus and the means by which it was created.

After emerging from Ruel triumphant, your quest fulfilled, you returned home to Sommerlund and the Kai Monastery where you resumed your duties as Grand Master. Three months later, on the day that saw the first fall of winter snow, you were visited by Lord Rimoah. Once again he found himself the reluctant bearer of ill news. Your friend Guildmaster Banedon, whilst helping with the reclamation of wastelands close to the Maakengorge, had been abducted by a war-band of Giaks under the command of Nadziranim sorcerers. A rescue was attempted, but ruthlessly the Nadziranim obliterated those who tried to follow their escape into the Darklands. It was feared that the Nadziranim would try to extract from Banedon the secrets of Left-handed magic, so that they might marry it to their own foul sorcery. Such an outcome would have given them extraordinary power, power enough to revive the Darklands. A previous attempt to unite the two paths of magic had resulted in catastrophe for Sommerlund. In the year MS 5050, Vonotar the Traitor, a magician from the same guild as Banedon, had betrayed his homeland in exchange for the promise of Nadziranim power. It was his act of treachery which brought about the invasion of Sommerlund and the destruction of the First Order of the Kai.

Banedon’s survival depended upon a swift rescue from Kaag. Mindful of all that was at stake, courageously you volunteered to enter the city-fortress alone in an attempt to save your friend.

Despite fierce odds you gained entry to Kaag, located Banedon, and then snatched him from the foul denizens of that city by way of a daring aerial escape from the upper levels of their great citadel. Banedon was severely weakened by his ordeal at the hands of the Nadziranim and, had it not been for your timely intervention, he would certainly have perished in that grim city-fortress.

The rescue of Guildmaster Banedon and his safe return to Sommerlund was cause for much celebration, especially in the streets and guildhalls of his native city of Toran. For several days you allowed yourself to be fêted by the Brotherhood of the Crystal Star before returning to your monastery where, with a feeling of quiet satisfaction, you gladly resumed your duties as Kai Grand Master.

So the year ended and another began, yet even before the snows of winter had begun to thaw, once again your unique skills were being sought in the relentless struggle against Evil. This time the plea for help arrived by way of a foreign ambassador, a special envoy who had travelled thousands of miles from the court of King Sarnac of Lencia. Their war against the Drakkarim, who were under the command of Magnaarn, the High Warlord of Darke, had stagnated ever since the onset of winter and recently the whole campaign had taken a turn for the worse. The Lencians learned that Magnaarn had undertaken a quest for the Doomstone of Darke, an artefact of legendary evil. It was said that this gem was the most powerful of all the Doomstones created by Agarash the Damned during the Age of Eternal Night. Before the demise of the Darklords, this Doomstone had rested in the head of the Nyras Sceptre, a magical weapon wielded by Darklord Dakushna, Lord of Kagorst. In the chaos that followed the wake of Dakushna’s destruction, the Nyras Sceptre was lost, though many secretly believed it to have been stolen by one of Dakushna’s Nadziranim sorcerers. Some months later during the war in Nyras the sceptre reappeared, but the Doomstone was missing from its setting atop the sceptre’s platinum haft.

‘We fear that Magnaarn is close to finding the Doomstone of Darke,’ said the Lencian envoy. ‘Already he possesses the sceptre’s haft. My liege, King Sarnac, beseeches you, Grand Master Lone Wolf, to come to our aid. Help us find the Doomstone and thwart Magnaarn’s plan, for if he successfully reunites the Doomstone and the Nyras sceptre he will command a power capable of our undoing.’

‘With respect, my lord, surely this one weapon, however evil it may be, is no match when pitted against all the armoured might of Lencia?’ you replied diplomatically, as yet unconvinced by the envoy’s plea.

‘Perhaps so, Grand Master,’ he replied, ‘were the nature of the threat merely the weapon alone. Sadly this is not the only issue here. Until now, the Nadziranim sorcerers who control the strongholds of Kagorst and Akagazad have refused to aid Magnaarn in his war against us. Many times he has begged them for help, for within those fortress walls are thousands of Giaks and other breeds who sought sanctuary there after the defeat of the Darklords. They still possess their weapons and they would make a formidable enemy if ever they were mustered against us. Magnaarn’s possession of the Doomstone of Darke will most certainly influence the Nadziranim. Its power is such that Magnaarn could simply force them to obey his every command. Their refusal would result in their immediate destruction.’

Politely you dismissed the envoy whilst you considered your response to his plea. In the solitude of your chamber you pondered the problem, weighing the plight of Lencia against your duties and responsibilities there at the Kai Monastery. At length, after careful deliberation, you reached your decision.

‘Well my lord?’ enquired the envoy, nervously, upon re-entering your chamber. ‘Will you help us thwart Magnaarn?’

‘Once, not so very long ago, your King and his army aided me during my quest for the Magnakai,’ you replied. ‘Perhaps now the time has come for me to repay my debt of gratitude. Yes, I shall help you. I shall return with you to Lencia and champion your cause. I vow that I shall do all in my power to thwart Magnaarn’s quest.’

Tiggum posted:

1. Grand Master Discipline
   
2. Weaponmastery (potentially)
   
3. Items into storage
   
4. Items from storage
   
5. New equipment

Book 14 posted:

‘No! No! No!’ screams Arch Druid Cadak, his voice filled with anger and bitter frustration. ‘It cannot be! It cannot be!’

Madly he rushes across the pen and stares with open-mouthed incredulity at the carcass of the huge Zavaghar, his eyes wide with disbelief. Meanwhile, you have helped Banedon to his feet and the two of you have begun to hurry towards your means of escape which is still perched on the landing platform.

Tiggum posted:

Time to make some more choices!

nelson posted:

1. Grand Master Discipline - Grand Pathsmanship Insect repellent sounds useless at first but it's listed as a Grand Master skill, which means we're probably going to meet some gnarly insects.
   
2. Weaponmastery (potentially) - Sword, Bow Because I want to see Lonewolf use a bow one-handed.
   
3. Items into storage - Keys, Previous Map, any gold crowns over 40
   
4. Items from storage - Potion of Sabito, Potion of Alether
   
5. New equipment - Restock arrows (obviously), Potion of Laumspur
   

nelson posted:

Grand Master Discipline - Grand Pathsmanship Insect repellent sounds useless at first but it's listed as a Grand Master skill, which means we're probably going to meet some gnarly insects.

ShadowWraith posted:

Put both keys into storage.

achtungnight posted:

1 Alether

Guy Fawkes posted:

Replenish Arrows and Meals.

The Darke Crusade posted:

Having pledged your help, you commence preparations for your long journey to Lencia. You have many things you wish to attend to before you depart and so you invite Lord Floras, the Lencian envoy, to enjoy the hospitality of the monastery for a few days in order that you can settle your most pressing obligations. To your surprise he declines your invitation and insists that you leave at once, for he is anxious to return immediately to his distant homeland. Respectfully he reminds you that time does not favour your quest. By ship and by horse his journey to the monastery took more than a month to complete, and with Magnaarn already so near to finding the Doomstone of Darke, he fears that further delays could prove disastrous.



Mindful of the great distance which needs to be traversed you hurriedly dispatch a journeyman to Toran. He carries your request for help which is addressed to Lord Rimoah, your most trusted friend and advisor, who is presently attending to Guildmaster Banedon in his convalescence. Early next morning Lord Rimoah arrives at the monastery in person, aboard the vessel that is to be the answer to your dilemma: Skyrider—Banedon’s flying ship.

Warmly you greet your old friend, and then you introduce him formally to Lord Floras. The two talk at length about the war in the west, and Rimoah concludes the discussion by voicing his approval of your decision to go to King Sarnac’s aid. Then he offers some words of warning.

‘Be in no doubt, Grand Master,’ he says, ‘this mission you have chosen to fulfil will be as perilous as any you have undertaken in the past. Magnaarn is a cunning adversary and this stone he seeks is possessed of a deadly evil. Do not underestimate your enemy. If he should succeed in his quest then I fear the lands of the Western Tentarias will never be at peace.’

Within the hour the final preparations for your airborne voyage to Lencia are completed, and Lord Floras and you are piped aboard the Skyrider by Bo’sun Nolrim and his cheerful crew of dwarves. You exchange a few reminiscences with each of the jovial crewmen and cannot help but smile when they tell you how proud they feel to have been given the chance to serve you once more.

Nolrim takes the helm and you sense a vibration run down the length of the deck as he coaxes the craft’s powerful engine to life. Lord Floras joins you at the prow and together you wave a farewell to Rimoah and your fellow Kai as, steadily, the Skyrider ascends into the crisp, wintry sky. Then, with a sudden surge of power, the keel clears the battlements of the Tower of the Sun and swiftly the monastery and its inhabitants recede into the distance.

You and your companion are escorted to a warm cabin at the bow which has been prepared especially for your passage. It is well stocked with provisions and, spread out across a grand oak table, you find several maps of Northern Magnamund. Aided by Lord Floras, you study these maps and use them to chart your course to the Lencian city-port of Vadera. Bo’sun Nolrim is informed of your chosen route and, as he sets about implementing your course, you settle back to enjoy what will be a long voyage. By your calculations, it will take thirty hours for the Skyrider to reach its destination.

During your voyage, Lord Floras recounts the dramatic events which have taken place in the Western Tentarias since the demise of the Darklords. Prior to their fall, the Drakkarim nations had for many centuries kept the Lencians at bay. Countless crusades had been undertaken to recapture their former lands but all had ended in costly defeat for the House of Sarnac. Then, two years ago, the tide finally turned when the King launched an invasion across the Gulf of Lencia into the lands of Zaldir and Nyras. The boldness of his strategy and the unpreparedness of his enemies combined to win for him many victories in the early months of the war. Much of Zaldir and all of southern Nyras were taken and held by his conquering knights, and now the lines of battle are drawn diagonally across the centre of Nyras, from Lake Lenag in the north to the marshland fortress of Lozonzee in the east. However, King Sarnac cannot lay claim to total victory in the south, for the cities of Shpyder and Darke have defied all his attempts at capture. Their Drakkarim garrisons have steadfastly held on to these important strongholds and, although they have been surrounded and besieged for more than a year, still they refuse to surrender.



‘At present, the war is focused around the towns of Hokidat and Konozod,’ says Lord Floras, tracing a circle around their location on the map with the tip of his index finger. ‘Many battles have been fought here but victory has, as yet, eluded us. Now, with the onset of a cruel winter, our advance has ground to a halt. Maintaining the sieges at Shpyder and Darke has drained us of troops and resources that would have been put to better use in the north. To compensate for this shortage, the King has employed many companies of foreign mercenaries to reinforce his armies in the field, but their services are expensive and the campaign has already proved costly, both in revenue and lives. The King is hard-pressed to pay for their continued loyalty and already several regiments have deserted. If Magnaarn were to complete his quest and strike now, whilst our battle lines are weakened, his counterattack could push us all the way back to the sea.’

Lord Floras’ report is sobering, yet it serves to strengthen your determination to thwart Magnaarn’s quest. Later, shortly before nightfall, you leave the cabin and go up to the stern deck for a breath of fresh air. In quiet solitude you see the great expanse of the Slovarian Plain passing by more than a mile beneath the craft and, as you watch, you lose yourself in thoughts of what may await your arrival in Lencia. The night sky is clear and laced with twinkling stars. As you return to the cabin to sleep, you draw comfort from the thought that the weather and the stars have seen fit to help speed your night passage to Vadera.

You rise at dawn and peer out of the cabin porthole to be greeted by a wondrous sight, for the Skyrider is now flying west along the Tentarias, the great divide that parts the two continents of Magnamund. You are soaring more than a mile above blue-green waters which shimmer in the early morning sun. Sunlight is also reflecting from the snow-capped mountain peaks of the Great Bor and Boradon Mountains which rise up on either side to form a gigantic corridor of unyielding stone. Fondly the crew cast their eyes across the northern landscape, for this is the magnificent realm of Bor, the place of their birth, and many years have elapsed since they last visited their native land.

The weather remains clear and swift progress is made as the Skyrider follows its course along the Tentarias towards the Gulf of Lencia. By mid-morning you pass within a few miles of Humbold, capital of Eru; then emerge from the mountain corridor to a less enchanting sight. To the north, as far as the eye can see, stretches a dull and sickly mire. It is the infamous Hellswamp, an infernal morass of twisted vegetation and treacherous, shifting mudflats. Slowly the hours pass and the anticipation of your arrival at Vadera steadily grows. Then, at two hours past noon, the lookout catches first sight of the city-port nestling in its protected bay along the Lencian coast. You join Nolrim at the prow as skilfully he begins a descent towards the main square, the only place large enough to accommodate the craft in the closely packed quarters of this populous city.

At first, the sight of the Skyrider gliding towards their city causes a wave of panic among the Vaderans, who mistake it for a Drakkarim machine of war. But this initial fear is soon assuaged when the tower lookouts pass word that your mast bears a Sommlending flag. Upon landing, masses of curious citizens surge from out of the surrounding streets to form a ring of bodies around the airship’s keel. Then a troop of armoured guardsmen push through the crowds and the air is filled with the buzz of their excited speculation. After a brief consultation with Lord Floras, they escort you both to the Vadera Citadel for an immediate audience with King Sarnac.

You are ushered into a lavish chamber that is hung with Lencian flags and decorated with exotic fineries from the far-flung corners of Magnamund. All around guardsmen stand rigidly to attention, their eyes watchful and unblinking behind their silver visors as you approach the high-backed throne which dominates the centre of the room. There before you sits King Sarnac, his silver-grey hair framing a benign face that is still lean and firm despite advancing years.

‘Welcome, Grand Master,’ he says, as he rises from his throne and offers his hand in friendship. ‘I prayed that you would come to Lencia, to help in the defeat of that cur, Magnaarn, but I did not imagine that you would arrive so soon. You are most welcome.’

Gladly you acknowledge the King’s greeting and, after he has commended and dismissed Lord Floras, you adjourn with him to an antechamber where he tells you about the mission ahead.

‘Latest reports from my spies and scouts in the north say that Magnaarn is presently at his army headquarters in Shugkona. Drakkarim have been seen combing a region of the Tozaz Forest fifty miles to the north of his headquarters. We think that this is where he believes he’ll find the Doomstone of Darke. There are many ancient temples in this area … perhaps one is harbouring that evil gem.’



The King pauses for a few moments to take some refreshment. From a jewel-encrusted pitcher, he pours two glasses of wine and proffers one to you before continuing. Gratefully you accept and politely you sip the rare vintage whilst listening to the King’s plan of action.

‘Grand Master,’ he says, fixing you with his powerful gaze, ‘if you are to thwart Magnaarn you must travel to Shugkona and seek him out. He must be killed, or failing this, the infernal Doomstone must be destroyed before he can use it against us. Secrecy is paramount if your mission is to succeed; therefore no attempt to approach Shugkona directly can be made. The lines of battle are drawn up to within fifty miles of that stronghold and the region is alive with Drakkarim. Yet there is still one means of approach that the enemy will not be guarding. I have made provision for a boat to take you to a place we call “Bear Rock”. It lies on the River Gourneni and is only thirty miles from Magnaarn’s headquarters. However, there is one complication … to reach the river you must first enter the Hellswamp.’

The thought of venturing into that terrible mire fills you with a cold dread, for the Hellswamp is notoriously perilous. King Sarnac recognizes your apprehension and quickly he tries to assuage your fears.

‘I understand your anxiety, Grand Master, but rest assured that you will not be entering alone. One of my finest officers will be your guide throughout this mission. He has scouted this route before and he knows how to avoid its many dangers. Once you reach Bear Rock he will guide you through the forest to Shugkona. There you must find out where Magnaarn is and do whatever is necessary to foil his quest. Once your mission has been accomplished, my officer will bring you through our battle lines and see you safely back here to Vadera.’

The king reaches for a cord which hangs from a hole in the domed ceiling. He tugs it and a bell tinkles in a distant part of the citadel.

‘Now, Grand Master,’ he says, turning to face the door of the antechamber, ‘the time has come for me to introduce your guide.’

You hear approaching footsteps; then through the open archway comes a Lencian soldier attired in the parade tunic and breeches of a Court Captain. He is unusually tall, but his most striking feature is his close-set eyes which are bright above his thin, hawk-like nose and bushy black moustache.

‘May I introduce you to Captain Prarg,’ says King Sarnac. ‘He will be your guide.’

The captain shakes your hand and bows his head respectfully.

‘ ’It's an honour to have been the one chosen to accompany you, Grand Master Lone Wolf, on such a noble quest.’

‘You will commence your mission at midnight,’ says the King, motioning you towards a small window which overlooks the busy harbour of Vadera. He points to a ship, one of several moored at the quayside, but one that is readily identifiable for it is the only vessel not in military service.

‘That trading sloop will carry you and the captain to the small island you can see in the distance. That is Battle Isle. There you will find a sailing boat with enough provisions for your mission. The captain knows where it is hidden and he will be responsible for your safe passage once you set sail for the Hellswamp. Remember, secrecy is vital to the success of your mission. Trust nobody save Captain Prarg.’

The King voices his fear that Drakkarim spies are operating in the harbour and he expresses his concern that your unexpected arrival by air may have already alerted them to your presence here in Vadera. However, it is too late to change the plan; it is a risk you must accept.

Having concluded your briefing, King Sarnac sends for an escort to take you to a private chamber where you can rest and reflect upon the mission ahead. Later that evening, you and Captain Prarg are smuggled out of the citadel via a secret passage which leads directly to the harbour. Quietly you board the sloop and hide yourselves amongst its cargo of supplies which are destined for the garrison on Battle Isle. The ship sets sail on the first strike of midnight and, after a smooth and uneventful voyage it moors at a jetty on the southern coast of Battle Isle, three hours later.

The crew of the sloop are unaware that you are aboard and, in order to safeguard your secrecy, you await your chance to disembark without being seen. Soon the opportunity presents itself. As the crew go in search of help to unload the cargo, the two of you leave the sloop and hurry off along the beach, heading north towards the place where your sailing boat awaits. There is no cloud and a near-full moon illuminates the rocky beach, making it easy for you to progress despite the difficult terrain.

Your super-keen senses, enhanced by your mastery of Grand Pathsmanship, alert you to something on the brow of a hill which overlooks this stretch of beach. You detect the faint glint of moonlight on steel and at once you whisper a warning to Prarg. Instantly he takes cover among the rocks and together you watch with bated breath as two inquisitive Lencian lookouts leave their post and come down to the sea’s edge. They scan the beach; then, shaking their heads, they turn and retrace their steps, pausing to skewer a few clumps of seaweed with their spears as they trek back to their post.

As the lookouts climb the hill, you and Prarg hurry away whilst they have their backs turned.

Shortly you reach a small secluded cove where Captain Prarg discovers a rusty anchor. It is a landmark, left on purpose by agents of King Sarnac to point the way to the cave where they have left your boat and provisions. You find the cave and together you haul the boat down the beach and raise its coal-black sail before pushing it out into the icy waters of the Tentarias.

Once aboard, you trim the sail whilst Prarg takes charge of the rudder. There is a good wind and within minutes your tiny craft is bobbing towards the far western channel of the Hellswamp, twenty miles distant. You ask Prarg if this dark estuary has a name, and he replies, ‘Yes. The Drakkarim call it “Dakushna’s Channel” after the Darklord who once commanded the city-fortress of Kagorst. They say it is a fitting dedication, for the waterway is as deadly and as treacherous as the being after whom it is named.’

Dawn breaks as you sail into the estuary of Dakushna’s Channel. Prarg keeps the boat in the centre of the wide waterway, where the slimy water is deepest and the ever-present risk of grounding upon submerged debris is less likely to befall you.

Soon you are enveloped by the chaotic wilderness of the Hellswamp and you feel your spirits drop, as if they are being leeched by some unseen vampire. The monotonous view of slime-laden mudflats extends seemingly forever on every side, broken only occasionally by a dead, vine-strangled tree. You both take some comfort in the fact that there is a wind and it is blowing in a favourable direction. Despite the depressing scenery you make good progress until, late in the afternoon, you are forced to lower your sail when you reach a point where unexpectedly the channel splits in two. Prarg says that this split must have occurred recently, for it was not present the last time he sailed this way. Reluctantly he admits that he is not sure which way to go.

Upon the edge of the left bank, in the middle distance, you see a circle of mud huts perched close to the channel’s edge. You magnify your vision, but you are unable to discern any signs of life.

achtungnight posted:

Lotta text, few decisions. Whoa. Let’s go right.

Maugrim posted:

But what if there's an important clue or a seer who will give us vital information? We should go left just to make sure.

Maugrim posted:

But what if there's an important clue or a seer who will give us vital information? We should go left just to make sure.

The Darke Crusade posted:

Without a rigged sail, the stinking marsh wind propels your boat along the channel at a far slower rate. Gradually you approach the cluster of huts and, as you pass before them, you see eight dwellings, each built of mud-daubed roots and thatched with rotting vegetation. They are empty but they have not been deserted. The shoreline is littered with bones, the remnants of past meals, and nearby is a crude wooden frame on which the skins of a snake and a lizard have been stretched out to dry.

‘It’s a Ciquali camp,’ whispers Prarg nervously, his eyes scouring the surrounding waters for the slightest sign of movement. During your travels you have heard tales about the Ciquali, none of which were favourable. They are the bane of the Hellswamp—a breed of vicious amphibians, intelligent and cunning, with a taste for human flesh that makes them especially dangerous.

‘Our luck’s good, Lone Wolf,’ says Prarg, as gradually the wind carries you beyond the huts. ‘The camp’s empty—they must be away hunting. Truly we’re fortunate to have come this way this time.’

As soon as you lose sight of the settlement, you hoist the sail and catch the prevailing wind which propels you northwards along Dakushna’s Channel. You are hungry, and unless you possess Grand Huntmastery, you must now eat a Meal or lose 3 ENDURANCE points.

Gradually, over the next few hours, the level of the water rises until it covers most of the surrounding mud flats. Here and there, clumps of wire-hard briar stand isolated on tiny islands which are almost flush with the surface. They are the only features to break the dreary landscape.

As sunset approaches, so the wind dies until there is barely enough breeze to ruffle the canvas. Stoically Prarg gathers in the mainsail and you ship the oars; then together you pull back against the scum-darkened water and continue on your way. You are watchful of the current, for this will indicate your approach to the River Gourneni, but the water is so thick with silt and slime that neither of you can be certain of its direction, or even of its existence.

It is almost dark when finally you reach the outflow of the Gourneni. It is a sluggish confluence, jammed with deadwood and silt-banks which obstruct most of its fifty-yard width. You both realize that an attempt to navigate this river at night would be foolish, and so you decide to set up camp at the river’s edge and wait until first light before continuing.

Using your Kai skills of detection, you scan the two river banks to determine which would be a safer place to set up camp. Unfortunately you sense little difference between the two; neither east nor west looks very inviting.

Helios Grime posted:

Of to a good start with 2 choices where you have nothing to go on...

west

Runcible Cat posted:

East.

The Darke Crusade posted:

You are some distance from the east bank when the boat stops abruptly; it has run aground in the shallows.

‘Curse our luck,’ grumbles Prarg, peering over the side. ‘I was a’hoping we’d be fortunate enough t’keep our feet dry.’ Wearily he searches through the provisions and produces a heavy rope, one end of which he proceeds to tie around the stem while you stow away the oars. Then, together, you slip into the cold knee-deep mud and begin the laborious task of hauling the boat towards dry ground.

Eventually you reach dry ground where you set up camp on a promontory which offers the best view of the surrounding swamp. The upturned boat becomes your shelter from the elements, but you both are sorely aware that it will not protect you from the creatures that inhabit this morass. Prarg volunteers to sit the first watch, and hungry for sleep, you bow to his request. But it seems as if you have only just closed your eyes when you are awoken by his hushed and fearful voice:

‘Awake Sire, I think we’ve visitors!’

You rise in an instant, your hand reaching in reflex for your weapons as your senses try to locate the threat. In the middle-distance, emerging from a bed of tall, frost-heavy rushes, you catch sight of three large and scaly reptilians. From horn-tipped snout to barbed tail they are twenty feet or more, and, despite their enormous weight, they move with impressive lizard-like grace.

‘Gorodons!’ says Prarg, his voice full of horror. ‘Quickly, Sire, we must get away while we still can!’

Hurriedly you right the boat and drag it through the cloying mud towards the river. Your escape is painfully slow and your mounting fear rapidly approaches sheer terror when, in unison, the pursuing Gorodons give vent to a chorus of croaking growls At once you sense that these huge carnivores are ravenously hungry, and the prospect of a feast upon warm-blooded prey is driving them into a frenzy.

We roll: 9.

The moment you feel the icy cold waters of the Gourneni lapping about your legs, you press your shoulders to the stern timbers and launch the boat into the shallows. Prarg scrambles over the side, and then turns with his arms outstretched to pull you aboard.

‘Quickly, Lone Wolf!’ he screams, ‘they’re nearly upon us!’

With Prarg’s help you clamber over the gunwale, narrowly avoiding the horns of a Gorodon as you tumble head-over-heels into the bottom of the boat. Unaided, the boat drifts towards the middle of the river and is soon beyond reach of the Gorodons who, despite their hunger, have decided not to pursue.

‘That was too close for comfort,’ says Prarg, as he struggles to free the oars and set them in place. ‘We can count ourselves lucky to have escaped with our lives and limbs intact. The first time I navigated these channels I lost three good men in a Gorodon attack. These beasts are the bane of this accursed place … yet, ’it's true to say, there are other creatures here that are far worse. Far worse.’

Using the oars you soon reach the west bank where, once safely ashore, you encamp on a strip of frozen loam that overlooks a bleak expanse of marsh. Night has fallen and so too has the temperature. From the shelter of your upturned boat you cast your experienced eye across the darkening skies and see banks of cloud, heavy with snow, scudding the distant horizon. They are an unwelcome sight, the precursors to a winter storm.

Prarg volunteers to continue the first watch but, mindful that his need for rest is greater than yours, you insist that he gets some sleep. For four hours you sit and scan the bleak horizon, your mind filled with unanswered questions about the mission and the dangers you have yet to face. While you ponder what awaits you in the near future, you remain watchful and alert, your encounter on the east bank still vivid in your mind. Fortunately, the increasing cold dissuades the Hellswamp’s inhabitants from leaving their lairs this night and your watch passes without incident.

Then the time comes for you to awaken Prarg. With a noticeable lack of enthusiasm he takes his turn while you settle yourself down to catch a few hours of much needed sleep.

Prarg awakens you shortly before dawn. It has been snowing during the night and the boat is covered with a thin layer of crisp white flakes. As you open your eyes, the cold air brings you swiftly to your senses, its sudden unexpected chill making you shiver violently. However, this discomfort is momentary; your Magnakai skill of Nexus rights the imbalance and a comfortable warmth returns to your frozen limbs.

Carefully you step from beneath the boat and cast your eyes across the marsh which borders the river, now completely white. Tracks in the snow betray the nocturnal passage of several swamp creatures, but none are too large as to cause you undue concern. Prarg unpacks some provisions and, after a breakfast of dried meat, potatoes, ale, and blue cheese, you prepare the boat for your long voyage north up the Gourneni river to Bear Rock.

By mid-morning the snow has returned and your progress is soon hampered by a whipping wind that blows persistently in your faces. Shielded by your innate skills, the sub-zero temperatures cause you little concern as tirelessly you work the oars. But Prarg is not so fortunate and, as the hours pass, the cold saps his strength until he is unable to continue rowing. Single-handedly you take over the oars whilst your guide, swathed in blankets, mans the rudder and acts as your pilot through the narrower sections of the Gourneni.

You reach Bear Rock shortly before dusk. The landmark is a massive granite boulder, weather-worn into the shape of a huge bear standing upright with its forepaws extended. It is positioned on the west side of the Gourneni and overshadows a sheltered cove formed where, over the centuries, the river has undercut the bank. Here you bring the boat ashore and make camp for the night.

Over your evening meal you discuss the next leg of your mission. In the morning you will hide the boat before setting off cross-country towards Magnaarn’s headquarters at Shugkona. Fifty miles of dense timberland separate you from this town and, in current conditions, you estimate it will take at least two days to reach.

After your meal, you leave Prarg and climb to the top of the river bank. Here, using your Animal Mastery, you send forth a mental command into the surrounding forest, summoning creatures to your aid. At first there is no response; then a pair of white Nyras timber wolves appear at the forest’s edge and, upon your command, they approach you. Normally these wolves are wild and feral creatures, slave to nothing save their natural instincts, yet your mastery over them is total; they are utterly compliant to your will.

You command the two wolves to guard your camp while you and Prarg are sleeping. With a blink of their eyes they acknowledge your order and settle themselves on their haunches. You return to the boat and tell Prarg what you have done. At first he is sceptical, but having already witnessed some of your powers in action, he does not protest too hard, especially as he can now look forward to a long sleep without having to stand watch. Unfortunately for Prarg, his hopes for an uninterrupted night’s rest are soon shattered.

Shortly after midnight you are awoken by the sound of wolves howling. Within a few moments you are on your feet, your weapon in hand as you race up the bank towards the place where you stationed your timber wolf guards. As you crest the bank you see them pacing back and forth, their eyes fixed on the forest’s edge, their thick white fur standing on end with anxiety and fear. You scour the tree-line and at once you see the cause of their concern: Akataz. A dozen of the leathery black war-dogs are slinking in the shadows, waiting for the chance to attack. These ferocious wild dogs are often used by the Drakkarim and you have encountered them before on several occasions. Mindful of past experiences, you recall a weakness of the breed: they are particularly susceptible to psychic attacks.

Armed with this knowledge, you focus your Magnakai skill of Psi-surge upon the pack and launch a sharp blast of psychic energy in their direction. The effect is immediate: the Akataz are traumatized by this sudden assault. Shrieking with fright, the dogs flee from the bank and seek refuge in the dark safety of the Tozaz Forest. Confident that they will not be back, affectionately you pat your two loyal guards then return to the boat to resume your night’s rest.

You wake with the dawn and fix a hasty breakfast before breaking camp. Within the hour you are ready to begin your trek towards Magnaarn’s stronghold at Shugkona, but first you must dispose of your boat. Prarg takes what provisions he needs; then, with his sword, he pierces several holes in the keel. You launch the boat towards the centre of the river and watch as slowly it sinks beneath the surface. The moment it disappears, you leave the river’s edge and set off into the trees.

Deep in the forest the snowfall is light underfoot, because of the thick canopy of branches overhead, and you find the going much easier than expected. You are struck by the unexpected beauty of this dense timberland in winter, by the intricate webs of frost that trail between its blue-green branches, and by its frozen streams and waterfalls. But even as you admire it, you remain ever conscious of its dangers. Prarg leads the way, and swiftly you progress from one concealed marker to another, all having been placed by him on previous missions behind enemy lines. By using his system of hidden signposts he is able to guide you safely through a maze of Drakkarim outposts and patrol routes that riddle this timberland.

It is nearing noon and you have covered more than twenty miles when Prarg motions you to halt: he has found something unexpected. Nailed to a trunk is a small rectangle of orange-coloured metal.

‘This is a Drakkarim marker,’ he says, after closer examination. ‘They use them to mark the perimeter boundaries of their forest camps. It wasn’t here the last time I came this way which means there must be a new outpost here, somewhere close.’

‘How close?’ you ask.

‘Within half a mile at most.’

For a few moments you stop and listen to the silence of the forest. You close your eyes and concentrate, and through the use of your aural skills, you detect noises away to the north. The sounds are mixed and many, and you are unable to discern their exact cause.