Fire Season 1613-Fire Season 1614
The campaign started in late Fire Season 1613st, shortly after the siege of Jonstown by General Fazzur Wideread and the Lunar Army. Cleombrotus, Grant McKielson and Darkos Warkannon were all military personnel in the Lunar Army, serving in the Tarsh regiments. Just weeks after the city was successfully assaulted the Lunar Provincial Army disbanded some of its Tarsh units, thus rendering the adventurers unemployed. Quite naturally they each decided to make their way north out of the hostile lands of the Sartarite Orlanthi and to their homeland of Tarsh.
During a hot summer day of Fire Season the characters took shade beneath a large cedar tree. One by one they marched north along a dusty road, seeking shelter from the fierce might of Yelm who beat down gloriously and ferociously in the sky above them. Darkos still rode the jet-black sable antelope gifted to him by his father – a wealthy nobleman and sable breeder along the Oslir river valley. He also shone with the magic that had been cast on him some weeks earlier by the priests on his father’s estate.
Along this same road trudged Cleombrotus, a Dara Happan hoplite who had joined the Provincial army shortly after the debacle at Hofstaring’s Flood. Not far behind him came Grant McKielson, a native of the Tarsh highlands and an earth worshipper who still held to the old ways of the Tarshite clansmen. United in their common weal, they each broke bread with their fellows, laughing at the half-pound of bread and cheese given to them by the Lunar authorities during their demobilisation.
Resting beneath the tree they decided to journey together. (for there is safety in numbers). Before this was done they found themselves joined by a Lunar scholar, an initiate of Irripi Ontor called Cletus Adolus, and his bodyguards. Cletus carefully kept hold of a scroll case, and the adventurers duly noted this as they shared food and wine. After a while Cletus gave his thanks and took to the road once more. Thankful for their offer of protection, Cletus gladly allowed Darkos, Grant and Cleombrotus to journey with him. But then bandits! A flurry of arrows and javelins and from out the hills charged a band of baboons led by a vicious duck and his minotaur henchman. A melee ensued with Darkos showing his value as a trained cavalryman and archer. A worthy clash of arms followed, as befitted a band of trained military men. Grant exchanged blow for blow with the duck leader (a wily fellow who nearly bested the grisly and dependable Tarshite warrior). Daringly, Cleombrotus challenged the minotaur, correctly evaluating him as the greater threat. Magic was exchanged and wounds sorely taken, and in the end the bandits were sent running.
But at a cost.
The characters had all taken wounds and Cletus and his guards lay dead – the deadly accuracy of Darkos’ bowfire coming too late to save them. Cunning as they would prove themselves to be, they remembered the scroll case Cletus had so guardedly protected. Cleombrotus and Grant, neither acquainted sufficiently with written language, passed the documents to Darkos (who had been privileged with a literate education) who explained the documents referred to the history of a dragon and alluded to the prospect of dragon gold and a figure known as ‘Forang Farosh’ who may know the location of this dragon’s lair.
The road was hot. Hot and dusty. Northern Sartar had been at war for ten years, a recent rebellion still fresh in everyone’s memory. Refugees and the dispossessed littered the land. Opportunists and vagabonds tried to scrounge what living and wealth they could. Cleombrotus showed himself more than willing to partake in this mercenary way of living when the party met a bounty-hunter with a collection of duck beaks. Though Darkos’ reasoned words held sway. The heat of Fire Season filled everyone’s soul.
Into the rough grass fields and pastures between the borders of Sartar and Tarsh they found the shanty-town of Tink – an ex-mining town now past its best and home to the enigmatic figure of Forang Farosh. They took billet in the only inn in town and enjoyed drinks with O’ Mallard (a duck regular) and Bolgbiter (the troll bouncer). Edgily they made contact with Forang, who took his evening meal in the tavern with his servants (a beautiful human woman, a pygmy called ‘Three Foot’ and a scout dragonewt called ‘Emissary to Forang’). Negotiations meant that Forang wanted mementoes and a sculpture from a nearby ruin before he would yield the location of the dragon and so the three of them set off for the Skull Ruins, but not before a run-in with a visiting troop of Pol Joni braves and the theft of their horses!
The skull ruins were haunted. Haunted by the ghosts of dragons and the many humans slain during the Dragonkill War. Wasps and troll hunters were found and at all times each had to have his wits carefully about him. But using the guile and stealth gained during their recent military experience they found the items required by Forang and fled the ruins to make their way back to wretched Tink, the one-inn town. Though northern Sartar was no safe place. They kept a safe distance from the dragonewt city of the Dragons Eye, but were close enough to see strange lights and noises on the midnight horizon. Sweeping across the dried grass plains a bush fire brought a convoy of plague-ridden Chalana Arroy worshippers. Cleombrotus showed his usual self-serving nature and voiced the opinion that the diseased should take their chances with the fire. It seemed to be going that way. Suddenly Darkos’ noble nature took hold and he turned his mount to save the pilgrims, disease be damned! Once more Darkos showed the nobility of his upbringing. Taking his lead, Cleombrotus and Grant took the needy under their wing.
And so once again to Tink. Forang Farosh was true to his word. Though not meeting them personally, he gave his dragonewt servant, ‘Emissary’, permission to show them the way to the dragon’s lair. Emissary took them once more across the northern bush. He took them to one of the many strange standing stones that litter that land and, saying words of dragon magic, they found themselves transported along one of the fabled dragon roads.
Whether it was a day that passed, or a moment or possibly even a lifetime they will never know, but at the journey’s end they found themselves in the hills of deepest Sartar with instructions on how to get into the valley where the dragon lived! Down they went, carefully and wary, dreadful of the might of the True Dragon who lived in the Jarn Valley. Its cave lay in the valley wall and the three of them – Cleombrotus, Grant and Darkos – took themselves into the dark.
There they found the guardians of the Brown Dragon. Eastern mystics, marked with the eye of the dragon, alive with the Path of Immanent Mastery. The treasure was not to be seen. ‘The knowledge of the dragon’s lair is your reward,’ they were told. ‘Keep this information secret until it is time – you will know when.’ As a gift they were each given a crystallised portion of the dragon’s blood – magical crystals. Grant was particularly lucky and received a very powerful healing crystal that would serve him and his friends well in the future.
Leaving the cave they turned around to look once more at the lair. Only now it was gone! In its stead was the gaping maw of a mighty dragon. Its snout was the length of a great river, its body and tail curled around the whole range of hills. The beast had brown and golden scales and as they looked they saw its eyes wink and with a single thought they found themselves blown out of the valley and they fell among the trees of the surrounding lands.
A few weeks later and they were once more in the city of Jonstown – a city they had stormed only the previous season. They had all changed. Markedly so. Upon their foreheads the three of them carried the mark of the brown dragon – a henna-tint scaring upon their foreheads in the form of a dragon’s eye! N
What money they possessed was soon gone – the taverns, inns and brothels of the city making good with their coin. Employment was sought. A rumour about town spread that a local vintner’s wife wanted scouts to find her missing husband. The wine merchant had gone missing trading between southern Tarsh and northern Sartar. His route took him by the infamous Snakepipe Hollow, an area rife with chaos worshipping ogres and other filth. Expecting the worst, the woman asked the party to find him, or find his remains.
With autumn coming on the three ex-Lunar soldiers rode north for the city of Alda-Chur that stands above the wretched cliffs surrounding the Hollow. Storms began to blow in and they all decided to take shelter in a road-side travelling inn called ‘The Goblin’s Bogey’. In the middle of the night, as the storm fell about the midnight sky, a woman’s scream was heard. Piqued with interest they dashed across the courtyard, the heavy rain soaking them through. In the barn they found a trapdoor that led beneath the inn! Magic and arrows came out of the darkness, and Cleombrotus gave in to his fear and fled. With renewed resolve they continued down the passageway into a chamber marked with chaos runes and there before them was the slaughtered corpse of a woman.
Back in the tavern they questioned the innkeeper who initially denied knowledge of the hidden temple. Then tempers flared and the innkeeper, with the aid of his fellows, attacked the party and sent them packing!
Revenge was soon. In Alda-Chur they told the worshippers of Urox about the temple and the followers of the fierce Storm Bull took off to investigate and burn the place down. Raising a warband of more Bull worshippers the party descended into Snakepipe Hollow using one of the many treacherous paths that led down the cliff-edge. Ambushed by scorpion men, Darkos used his deadly accurate bow-fire to send the beastmen packing and earned the respect and admiration of the Uroxi for his feat of arms and the way he fearlessly slew the chaos filth.
On a clear, rain-free day, the party yomped through the tall grasses deep down in the Hollow. To get their bearings they ascended a low hill and reaching the top they fell into an ambush sprung by a large band of ogres! No weapons were drawn. There was no need. The ogres greatly outnumbered the party and offered them the chance to surrender. The Uroxi wanted to fight, determined not to surrender to chaos scum. And then a counter-ambush! Trolls came out of the tall grass and hacked down the ogres. There was a great melee, but the cause of the ogres was a lost one and soon they fell. The relief was short lived. A dark troll Death Lord of Zorak Zoran led the trolls and glumly told the adventurers they were now his prisoners!
Their cell was to be a pitch-black cave deep within troll lands to the east of the Hollow. Kept in confinement without any light they were troll prisoners, lower than the trollkin guards who kept them. The troll chieftain was a grey haired beast called Kergen Sourtooth, an ancient priest of Kyger Lytor, and upon his forehead he carried a mark similar to that of Grant, Darkos and Cleombrotus – a tattooed dragon eye. Though Kergen’s was black. This endeared him to his captives and he questioned them extensively about how they received their markings.
Earning the troll’s trust the party were sent on several tasks for the trolls – to rescue a Xiola Umbar priestess from a band of renegade trollkin hiding out in the rotting corpse of a dinosaur, to carry an embassy to an Argan Argar priest who farmed giant insects for royal jelly. It was during this time of captivity they were joined by Kirwin Drae, who was also captured by the trolls. Like the others, Kirwin was a Tarshite soldier in the Lunar Army. He had also been demobilised and decided to make his way back home. And all the time Kergen kept asking questions on who they were and how they received the tattoos on their foreheads.
Then one day Kergen announced that he was taking the prisoners with him to the human city of Alda-Chur. The Zorak Zoran Death Lord was not happy, but the old troll priest had his way and they all set off. Kergen knew something of the mark on the adventurer’s foreheads. He had, after all, a similar mark. He gave them their freedom and told them to seek out Forang Farosh once more and bring him to Alda-Chur. It was at this time that Darkos sought the blessing of the Storm Bull and became a worshipper at their respected temple and Grant also sought the protection of the Storm god Orlanth since he knew that his destiny would blow across the hills and plains like the lonely winds.
Forang Farosh told them their lives and destiny were no longer their own. The shrouded scholar said no more but talked cryptically to them of wars and dragons and told them they must travel to the land of Esrolia and find an elf named Lurid Mossbrow, who also bore the mark of the dragon, and bring him back to Alda-Chur when all would be made clear. Forang generously gave them a vast purse of moneys to help in equipping themselves for the journey and to pay any transit costs. At Jonstown they bought new arms and armour as well as camping goods. Kirwin, realising that a dangerous future was in front of him, approached the dread Sword-Priests of Humakt and they duly initiated him into the secrets of the Death God.
So off they went across the hills of Sartar. The road ahead of them was a long one and a difficult journey in the growing storms of Dark Season. In the hills they met Orlanthi tribesmen, and they took part in their contests and rituals and bestowed honour on themselves for their actions. They met Lunar scouts who patrolled the lands to the south between Sartar and Heortland.
And they also met the sun worshippers of Yelmalio. Staying at a village on the outskirts of sun lands they tried to follow the puritan customs of the dirt-farmers. Tried. Only Darkos and Kirwin allowed themselves to be dazzled by the beauty of two young village girls and spent the night with them. In the morning there was outrage. Having offered their maidenhood to the young Lunar soldiers the girls expected marriage. Although Darkos and Kirwin had not seen it that way. To them it had been a night’s simple entertainment. Kirwin, being a man of honour, agreed that he would return and marry the girl – and he took an oath on Humakt to do this. This satisfied the village elders. Darkos ran. Maybe it was loyalty to a greater cause, maybe it was the selfish arrogance of a young nobleman. Maybe it was something else. But he fled the town without the girl.
At the great Sun Temple they were berated for their actions by a resident Sun Lord-Priest called Jimril. Darkos and the girl were found guilty of fornication. The girl was to be executed and Darkos was made to witness the sentence. Earth priestesses – representatives of the Earth crone Ty Kora Tek, the bloody earth Babeester Gor and the gentle goddess Ernalda, took them into the hills. What took place in the hills Darkos never spoke of, though the event clearly upset him.
Crossing Beast Valley they came across a Lunar ambassador on his way to Seapolis in the Mirrorsea Bay. Since their journey followed the same path the adventurers agreed to accompany the ambassador as far as Karse where they planned to make for the city of Nochet. They stayed beneath the Shadow Plateau in the city of Blackwall, once a city of the Kingdom of Night. And it was here that Cleombrotus presented himself to the priests of Argan Argar and took his prayers in their fashion. From Blackwall they rode south where a band of broo let the party scout (Darkos) slip by before ambushing the main group. The chaos goatmen launched themselves at the party. Kirwin fell to their chaos magic and became fixed with dread and apprehension. The Lunar ambassador let his Moon elemental free to attack the broo and there followed a difficult battle. All gave good credit to themselves and the drill instructor who had taught them how to fight on the parade-grounds of their barracks back in Tarsh.
There was bad news – the broo had been diseased and Kirwin fell sick with a terrible distemper. Darkos led them to an old campsite so the party could rest. But things got worse. This ‘old’ camp had been the lair of the broo and the already weak and sickened Kirwin found himself exposed to more illness.
The next day they arrived in Karse. The first thing they needed to do was take Kirwin to the hospital of Chalana Arroy. The battle with the broo had long-reaching effects – Kirwin had succumbed to bouts of both Soul Waste and Brain Fever! After pleading with the priestesses it was agreed that he would receive attention to cure him of his afflictions but what damage had already been done could not be reversed. While Kirwin convalesced the party tried to arrange passage to Nochet to be told that all traffic across Mirrorsea Bay had to go through Seapolis. At this they agreed to accompany the ambassador – the extra money would prove useful.
Seapolis was the capital of Mirrorsea and ruled by the Ludoch and mermen beneath the waves through a human officer called the Admiral. The city, which was built on many small islands in the middle of the bay, showed signs of a recent attack by Wolf Pirates. The Admiral put on a banquet in honour of his guests and gifts were exchanged, including a conch shell containing a bound undine that was gifted to Darkos as officer of the ambassador’s bodyguard. The best seafood was presented with martial displays by the fishguard. The culmination of the feast though was a ritual dance by the Ulerians from a nearby island.
It was that night the ambassador went missing. A cry for help was heard from his room and Cleombrotus burst in to see a small boat disappearing into the dark. They tried to follow but a seatroll sunk their boat and they were forced on to the marshes where lived the shrimp fishers. Investigations led them further into the marshes and back to the city. All the time the rains came down and the city celebrated, for this was the Sacred Time, and all these things made travelling around the city difficult. The ambassador was found trussed up in an old warehouse above one of the docks. The kidnappers were ne’er do wells from the city of Refuge, and represented disgruntled unknowns who resented the Lunar attack on Iron Fort, further out in Mirrorsea Bay. The ambassador was rescued just in time for him to take his role in the final ceremony to mark the end of the year. As way of thanks, the Admiral offered the party free transit to anywhere they travelled.
And so to Nochet. The first thing was rest. Grant and Cleombrotus spent their afternoons at the grand temple of Lhankor Mhy, trying to find out what they could about Lurid Mossbrow and the aldryami of the Arstola forest. Darkos, meanwhile, spent his days standing guard at the temple to Dormal, who agreed to teach him clever magics that would allow him to control the bound undine he now possessed in exchange for standing guard for the week. The vast city of Nochet, with its huge temples and plazas, and minarets above the skyline, became their home for the time being. And then something occurred.
They received a letter of introduction to meet Scholar Wyrm at the Lhankor Mhy temple. It transpired that this wizened wyrm was a friend of Forang Farosh and had been trying to find them for some time. He was to help them find Lurid. It was Scholar Wyrm’s suggestion that they make the acquaintance of Ahmed Sebulba – a merchant of unique character with contacts among the aldryami community. Ahmed was indeed a character. With a penchant for young boys and a slimy disposition he told the party he would introduce them to the elves if they could offer him a suitable gift – a gift such as a magical crystal to be found in the tower of Khafre Danzig.
To help them around the city Ahmed offered them the services of one of his cronies – a young thief and street-gang member called Amhotep Th’arka. Amhotep told them the stories of the tower. It was thought it was guarded by a cockatrice! Khafre Danzig was a known collector of animals. Amhotep managed to get a map of the city’s sewer system that was explored late one night by him and Grant. That route of approach was quickly discounted.
Darkos, meanwhile, had been scouting out the tower itself and found that a narrow alley ran alongside one of the walls. This was the way they would get in. The five of them approached the tower in the still of the night. Kirwin (sceptical about the dishonest nature of their task in the way only a True Humakti could be) kept sentry outside. The others went over the walls into the gardens surrounding the tower.
A pair of lions patrolled the grounds and were taken down by Cleombrotus and Grant. Amhotep stayed guard by the door of the tower and Darkos, Cleombrotus and Grant broke in to search for the crystal. Carefully making their way down the stairs they entered the tower’s catacombs. Cleombrotus entered a large colonnaded chamber. With his senses keenly tuned to any sight or sound he heard a faint scratching and scurrying sound deep within the hall’s shadows. With rumours of basilisks and cockatrices in his mind he hurriedly left the room alone and closed the door behind him. Then Grant had a clever idea. Nearby was a well shaft. He suggested that Darkos summon the spirit of his undine to take form in the waters of the well and then enter the room with the columns and drown all it found within. And that it was they did and they were lucky enough to be presented with the soaked and drowned carcass of a dead basilisk!
It seemed that Khafre Danzig had been a collector of strange beasts. In one chamber was found a chained up Jack O Bear (a nasty surprise that very nearly sealed the fate of them all). And in one chamber was found a horde of ugly creatures – that looked like human heads with large fangs and huge ears so large they acted like wings. These odd beasts were locked firmly behind a solid metal portcullis. Then greed and haste took hold. A large chest was seen and the thiefly trio made for it. Flinging the lid open they heard a grating sound and saw the large eared creatures flapping toward them! Where before they had been cautious enough to check for traps this time, alas, their haste let them down.
But there in the chest was the crystal they sought. With it was a finely wrought sword, which Grant took for his own. All that Ahmed wanted was the crystal though. And when he was given it he kept to his word and made arrangements for the party to meet the elves in a temple grove that lay just outside the city walls.
The elves told them that Lurid no longer lived in the Arstola forest, that some time ago he left the sanctuary of the woods to live in the Skyreach Mountains – an impassable and very steep, very inaccessible range of mountains to the north. Seeking Scholar Wyrm for more advice, they were told that Lurid probably resided with the Green Dragon that was known to live in the mountains. Fortunately Scholar Wyrm knew of the location. One by one, Cleombrotus, Kirwin, Grant, Amhotep and Darkos sat on the wyrm’s back and with a huge flap of his wings they were airborne and on their way to the Skyreach Mountains, the grey and purple mountains just visible on the northern horizon.
The journey took three days. When they came down in the ice-capped mountains the weather was cold and the frigid winds of the god Valind curled and whipped around them. Though down in the dragon’s valley it was warm. And there they met with the same group of mystics they had first met nearly a year before in the Jarn Valley. Again they received visions. And with them also was Lurid Mossbrow, who bore a green dragon eye on his forehead. For finding the lair of the Green Dragon they were given another crystallised piece of the dragon’s blood and when they left, accompanied by Lurid, they turned to see the material form of the True Green Dragon and its centuries old form curled around the whole range of mountains.
All that was left was to make their way back to Forang Farosh and Kergen Sourtooth faraway in Alda-Chur. Only this time they had the help of Scholar Wyrm, who called upon the aid of his wyrmish allies to help lift them all and fly overland to Alda-Chur, a journey that would take two weeks flight to complete. Halfway through they stopped at Boldhome, the capital city of Sartar. A great ceremony was clearly underway. It transpired that a new king was to be crowned. The seat had lain vacant for some years and an ancestor of Sartar’s called Temertain was to be crowned king by the invading Lunar authorities. The culmination of the ceremony was for the new king to light the flame of Sartar, a task, said by some, which could only be done by the true king of Sartar. Temertain failed. He tried, several times, but with each attempt he failed. Despite this the Lunars still crowned him King of Sartar.
It was under this mood that Scholar Wyrm suggested they leave the city and finish their journey.
And so, almost a year after they had left the army, they arrived back in the city of Alda-Chur. Grant, Cleombrotus, Kirwin, Darkos, Amhotep and Lurid listened intently as Forang Farosh told of his prophesies and how the world progressed…