Session 76
Intrigue in Raam II
Intrigue in Raam II
The group made their way down the bustling streets of Raam, the air thick with the sounds of vendors hawking their wares and the hurried footsteps of people of all races scurrying through the oppressive heat. The sun, relentless in its fury, beat down upon them, its sweltering rays adding to the sense of urgency. They moved with purpose, following the directions Nora had given them back in Altaruk, her instructions leading them to a narrow, sand-swept alley. As they turned down the alley’s winding path, a white, plastered adobe building came into view. Its thin wooden door stood at the end, weathered and unassuming. This, they knew, was the place where Kindar was to meet them, though a quiet unease lingered in the air.
After delivering the appropriate knock, the wooden door swung outward on its nearly shattered hinges, revealing a figure in the doorway. Behind him, only darkness loomed. Clad in scale mail, the man had the unmistakable build of a gladiator—chiseled muscles carved from countless battles. In his right hand, he casually hefted a steel great axe, the sheer amount of metal in it more than any of them had ever seen. It radiated power, both in its craftsmanship and the ease with which he wielded it. The man gave them a slow, assessing look before grunting, "Greetings, my friends. I am Dor, the guardian of this place. I am pleased that you could make it." His voice, though gruff, carried a trace of kindness.
Dor then motioned for them to follow him, leading the group down a short, twisting staircase. Darkness swallowed the narrow path, leaving no time for their infravision to adjust. As they descended, Dor spoke in clipped, simple phrases, his disinterest in conversation palpable. At the bottom, they entered a short, pitch-black corridor. Without warning, Dor stopped, opening another door that sent a stream of light flooding into the hall. T’rank scurried away, their light green scales glinting in the sudden brightness, red eyes gleaming. The clicking sound from their mouths echoed, a territorial warning. Dor stepped aside, gesturing for them to enter.
They filed into a small, musty room, the walls made of a dark stone that seemed to devour the faint light. The air was thick with the smell of lamp oil. In the center of the room stood a desk cluttered with parchments, a single lamp flickering upon it. Behind the desk sat an elf—tall, even for one of his kind. His beard and long hair, streaked with white, added to the weariness etched into his features. Deep circles framed his tired eyes. As the elf looked up, Dor quietly closed the door behind them, sealing them in the shadowed room.
Kindar greeted the party with warmth, clearly relieved at their arrival. His initial demeanor was lighthearted, engaging them in small talk about the weather, a local bar, and even a compliment about how Nora looked as radiant as ever. But after a few minutes, his expression grew serious, and he shifted to the pressing matters at hand. He described the dire situation in Raam, its descent into chaos since the fall of Abalach-Re, and the need for their help.
He explained that various factions were now vying for control of the city, and the Veiled Alliance—his group—was one of them. They aimed to restore order and guide Raam toward much-needed change. Kindar urgently asked for their aid, suggesting they start by investigating the Sunbathing Inix Bar, a nearby establishment where the ex-gladiator Toranthis was rumored to frequent.
"Raam has fallen into turmoil," he said grimly. "The merchants, an ex-gladiator leading the slaves, the nobles, and of course, the templars—all competing for power. The templars are the real threat, with their growing connections and warriors who are learning elemental powers. If we can break them, we can bring the other factions under control." He paused, his voice heavy with concern. "Unfortunately, we don’t know where they’re organizing or who leads them."
He dismissed the merchants as largely powerless, focused only on transforming Raam into a vast trade hub but too frightened to oppose the templars openly. Toranthis, the ex-gladiator, was a different matter. "Toranthis is a formidable figure," Kindar said. "He’s driven by his desire to free the slaves, and he has the support of ex-slaves, their families, and fighters for freedom. Though he is a fighter, he strikes me as kind and reasonable."
As for the nobles, Kindar scoffed. "They’re no threat. They just want to sit in luxury, have their slaves do the work, and grow rich. We need not concern ourselves with them." His gaze then turned back to the party, his plea unmistakable: Raam’s future was in their hands.
After leaving the musty room, the party followed Dor down the tight, dark corridor, back to the outside world. Dor wished them well as he gently closed the door behind them. Stepping into the night, they were surprised to find that darkness had fallen, with only the pale glow of Ral and Guthay casting a bluish light over the now-cool desert streets of Raam. The bustling vendors had long since gone, leaving the streets quiet and deserted.
As they walked, the alleyways grew narrower, until they found themselves at a dead end—a solid wall of adobe brick before them, high and covered in desert sand. Realizing they had made a wrong turn, they spun around, only to be confronted by a massive, fifteen-foot-long centipede. But panic seized them when they recognized the creature for what it truly was: a cilops, a relentless hunter employed by the templars.
Suddenly, a shriek cut through the night. Two tall, muscular men appeared out of nowhere. One, dressed in a tight black outfit that allowed full freedom of movement, and the other adorned with snake-like metal bands on his arms and wielding a trikal. The man in black sneered, “Veiled Alliance scum! I’ve looked forward to this. In the name of Ckladish, you shall die!”
Cornered between towering walls, the party sprang into action. Safi transformed into a smaller cilops, attacking the enemy with a bite before climbing the wall to gain an advantage. The enemy cilops retaliated but missed. Shank, raging, exchanged brutal blows with Wiendar, landing a critical strike, only for it to be deflected. Wiendar retaliated with deadly precision, landing multiple hits, two of them critical. Shiv, enraged, struck back with his javelin, unleashing a flurry of attacks, while Orkak, the bard, taunted him with vicious mockery and attacked with his poisoned dagger, though Shiv resisted the venom.
Gidewei called on Dregoth to bless his companions, while Anvar hastened Fazanna with his wand. Fazanna missed with her firebolt but managed to strike Wiendar with a dart. Karnos used his psionic ability to push Shiv and Shank into more attacks, while Shank fought recklessly, landing several blows on his enemy. Weindar, wounded but relentless, twisted a ring on his finger and teleported away.
Karnos attempted to seize Orkak’s mind, but the bard laughed off the attempt, mocking Karnos before also teleporting away. The fight against the cilops raged on, with Safi’s attacks missing but his antenna finally stunning the beast. The cilops shook off the stun shortly after but was met with further attacks from Gidewei, Fazanna, and Shiv. Finally, Fazanna invoked her fiery powers, striking twice with her green flame blade, slaying the cilops.
With a magical pop, the walls of the dead-end alley vanished, revealing the illusion that had trapped them. The battle was won, but the templars’ threat loomed ever closer.
The group made their way down the nearly empty street of Raam, shadows cast by the light of Ral and Guthay, both nearly at their zenith. Beggars lined the edges, while the rest of the city had retired for the night. On their left stood the Sunbathing Inix Bar, its wooden sign depicting an inix holding a foaming tankard under the blazing sun.
Entering the bar, they were immediately hit by the stench of sweat, bodies, and strong drink. The place was alive with nocturnal activity. Behind the bar, a tall elven woman served drinks, exchanged coins, and chatted with patrons. A massive half-giant guard stood watch by the door to the back room, eyes scanning the chaos. Tables were scattered haphazardly, with creatures of various races laughing, talking, and making deals over food and drink.
The group dispersed, seeking information. Shiv approached an old, drunken dwarf who reeked of alcohol. The dwarf snapped at him, “What do ye want? Can’t ye see I’m busy getting drunk?” After a brief and gruff argument, Shiv left him alone.
Meanwhile, Shank and Gidewei encountered a beautiful half-elven woman wearing very little. She flirted with them, “Looking for a good time, boys? I’ve got a place just down the street…” but lost interest when Shank admitted he had no coins.
Safi, on the other hand, found himself speaking with a depressed gladiator, who sighed, “It’s been a hard day. You look like you’re after information about the templars. Well, you might want to ask Toranthis. He knows about that sort of thing.”
Fazanna had a more tense encounter, bumping into the carapace of a thri-kreen who was in the midst of a heated argument with another patron. The thri-kreen spat insults, threateningly asking if she had a “becoming dinner” wish. Fazanna, wisely choosing discretion, walked away before things escalated further.
They wove through the crowded tavern, dodging tables and patrons, until they reached the corner booth where their target sat. Toranthis, a hulking human gladiator, was unmistakable. His muscled frame was barely concealed by a cloak that hung back, exposing the whip scars crisscrossing his powerful arms, chest, and face—a clear sign of a former slave. A jagged scar stretched from his ear to his chin, giving him a hardened, dangerous look. His cold, scrutinizing eyes scanned the room, seeming to read the thoughts of each patron, his expression revealing nothing of what he felt.
As the group approached, Toranthis’s eyes locked on them, and after a tense conversation, they convinced him they were allies. His voice low and grim, he spoke of the threat they faced. "Their leader is a man named Ckladish," he revealed, "a powerful defiler and one of Abalach-Re’s favored. Ruthless and determined, he'll stop at nothing to claim Raam’s empty throne. He uses assassins and pawns to do his dirty work, and I fear he may succeed, plunging Raam deeper into chaos, ensuring the slaves never see freedom."
Toranthis explained that Ckladish and his followers were hiding under a building near the Trade Court, lying low to avoid being torn apart by the city's citizens. They awaited the perfect moment to strike. Rumor had it that access to their hideout required solving a riddle, a test of wit that guarded a magical doorway. "But beware," he warned gravely. "Even if you pass the riddle, facing Ckladish is another matter entirely. He will destroy you without hesitation."
When he asked the group about their intentions, they answered without hesitation—they planned to kill the templars.
The group set off for the Shimmering Sands Inn, following the distant clamor of the Trade Court. The sounds of bartering grew louder as they approached, and when they reached the bustling plaza, it was a chaotic hive of activity. Elves swindled their latest customers, thieves moved swiftly among the crowds, and creatures of all races—gith, half-giants, thri-kreen, and even a pterran—scurried through the market like ants. Amidst the madness, they spotted their destination on the far side of the square.
Weaving through the throng of merchants, stalls, and pedestrians, they finally reached the inn. The musty establishment was packed with demihuman bodies, the air thick with noise as patrons shouted cheers and curses at one another. Ignoring the raucous crowd, the group made their way toward the back of the room, unnoticed in the chaos. A door waited for them, as expected.
Stepping into the well-lit corridor beyond, they quickly noticed it was only the length of a mekillot. At the far end stood a stairwell, presumably leading to the upper rooms. Fazanna wasted no time, quickly locating the hidden door they sought. With a quiet click, a stone slab slid aside, revealing a spiral staircase. Once they passed through, the door sealed behind them, leaving no trace of their passage.
Once the door slid shut behind them, the group descended a spiral staircase for about twenty feet, emerging into a pitch-black corridor. Those with infravision saw the swirling heat signatures of the stone walls and their companions as they moved forward. The corridor led them into a large, unexpectedly bright chamber. At the far end stood two massive statues, towering guardians made of gleaming obsidian, with what appeared to be a door nestled between them.
Fazanna and Shiv ventured ahead, inadvertently triggering a trap, but quickly took to the air using their boots of flying to avoid the barrage of darts that followed. Shank, always quick on his feet, rolled forward, activating more pressure plates, though the darts sailed harmlessly over his head. The rest of the group followed suit, dodging the trap’s deadly projectiles before Fazanna expertly disabled it.
Now standing before the two statues, each towering fifteen feet tall, they marveled at the masterful craftsmanship. The light danced across the polished obsidian surfaces, and between the statues was a six-foot-high door. Above the door, carved in stone, was a riddle:
“To pass beyond these guardians, tell me one thing. Our mighty, but unfortunately deceased sorcerer-queen Abalach-Re was a child of a far greater power. This power spawned, to do his handiwork during the Cleansing Wars, the Thirteen Champions. She was one of these. Pray tell, who was that higher power?”
Beneath the riddle was an ominous warning: “Beware – if you enter unbidden, then be prepared to perish.”
After five failed answers, a suffocating silence gripped the chamber. For a moment, it seemed they might have succeeded—until a deep crack split the air. The towering obsidian golems flanking the door twitched to life, their black forms shuddering as crimson light flared in their eyes. Slowly, their heads creaked toward the group, the grinding of stone filling the air, heralding the awakening of ancient magic. Dust and shards fell as their jagged limbs broke free from dormancy. The room trembled as the massive golems rose to their full height, casting ominous shadows. Without warning, they struck, fists swinging with terrifying speed, fueled by the group’s wrong answer.
One golem clapped its massive fists together, sending shards of obsidian flying through the air with a thunderous boom, stunning Fazanna and Gidewei. It struck Fazanna again as she reeled from the blow, while Gidewei shook off the stun. The second golem mirrored the attack, its shards piercing the group, though none were stunned this time. Shank, filled with rage, recklessly attacked, his greatsword carving into the golem, chipping away its obsidian form.
Fazanna recovered from her stun, while Shiv, tapping into his reserves, struck with a javelin and ineffectively punched the golem. Anvar pulled Fazanna to safety, healing her with a burst of vitality. Karnos, using his psionics, urged Shiv and Shank to strike again—both landing solid hits. Safi’s thorn whip spell missed, but he handed enchanted stones to Gidewei. The golem retaliated, its crushing fists again sending shards flying, before pounding Shank twice.
Strategically, Fazanna cast Wall of Force between the group and the golems, buying time to regroup. Safi healed Fazanna while Anvar used his wand to cast haste on Shank. As the wall dropped, the golems struck with their crushing fists again, stunning Gidewei. Karnos missed with his crystal blast, while Safi’s thorn whip spell continued to fizzle against the golems' magic resistance. Fazanna struck with a dart before retreating. Karnos attempted a psionic stunt, but to no avail, as the golems resisted all psionics.
The battle raged on. Shiv grappled one golem while Shank, empowered by haste, delivered a barrage of powerful sword strikes. Karnos used his psionics to give Shiv the upper hand, allowing Shiv to land a critical hit that shattered one golem. Shank smashed the remaining pieces for good measure. The second golem lashed out again, its crushing fists scattering more obsidian shards, injuring Shiv and stunning both Shank and Gidewei.
Despite the relentless onslaught, the group fought back fiercely. Shank shook off his stun and struck with deadly precision, while Shiv grappled the remaining golem, holding it in place as the others attacked. The golem continued to pummel the group, stunning Safi and hitting hard, but they refused to falter.
Fazanna unleashed an upcast lightning bolt, but the magic fizzled upon impact. As the battle drew to a close, Shank, still raging, delivered four powerful blows, finally shattering the last golem into a cloud of obsidian dust.
As the final blow struck the towering obsidian golem, it shattered with a deafening crash, crumbling into jagged shards that scattered across the floor. The room fell into an eerie silence, broken only by the slow settling of black stone fragments. Dust swirled in the heavy air, thick with the aftermath of the fierce battle. Then, with a deep, earth-shaking rumble, the colossal doors began to move. Without the golems guarding it, the ancient mechanism groaned to life, the black stone slabs trembling as they cracked open. A thin, pale line of light appeared between them, growing brighter and wider as the doors slid apart with a thunderous grinding sound.
Cool, stagnant air rushed out, revealing a massive, well-lit chamber beyond. The room was furnished with overturned tables and empty tankards scattered about, as though recently abandoned. A weapons rack stood to the left, and a small bookshelf rested beside it. Despite the absence of those who had used the tankards, the chamber was far from empty.
At the center of the room, only ten feet away, stood several figures—templars, a hulking half-giant, and the two assassins who had tried to kill them in the alleyway. Behind them loomed an old man in a swirling black cassock.
Ckladish, his eyes filled with contempt, spat on the floor—a grave insult, wasting precious water. "So, you are the ones aiding my most wretched enemies, the Veiled Alliance. You will no longer stand in my way to the throne of Raam." His voice was cold and ruthless as he signaled to his followers, "Kill them. Kill them all."