Session 84
Black Sand Raiders
Black Sand Raiders
Fazanna sought an audience with Sadira, but the sorceress was away. A messenger informed her that Sadira would return in five days and suggested contacting her at the Golden Tower. When Fazanna arrived, the guards allowed her entry, and she was led to Sadira.
Fazanna explained that she needed gold to aid an ally who had been harmed by a tembo. She offered staves and spellbooks in exchange. Sadira admired the items but was unable to purchase them herself. She recommended Nobleman Verranasi, known for his obsession with arcane artifacts, though she warned of his exploitative nature.
Fazanna, hoping the items would go to someone more deserving, asked if land could be offered instead. Sadira explained that land had already been allocated to the newly freed citizens of Tyr, and the beastmaster had already rejected the offer.
Fazanna requested that Sadira help appraise the items and arrange a meeting with Verranasi. Sadira, unable to directly intervene, offered a letter of introduction to ensure Fazanna was treated with respect. In gratitude, Fazanna entrusted Sadira with a spellbook for safekeeping.
With the letter in hand, Fazanna gave it to Zahraan, who arranged a meeting with Verranasi. The nobleman agreed to buy the staves but demanded reparations for damage done to his farm by the party, along with a guarantee of no future harm. The group consented.
The adventurers were enjoying a rare moment of relaxation at a tavern in the Merchant’s Quarter, unwinding after a long day. As they sipped wine and listened to the music, a tall elf entered and made his way directly to their table. He was recognized as Thalid, a servant of the City Council, who delivered a message requesting their presence at a meeting that evening, one hour after sunset.
On their way to the Council Chambers, they passed a square where porters unloaded a massive armored wagon. Hulking half-giants and muls moved grain and wine while animal handlers freed colossal mekillots from their yokes. Suddenly, the mekillots broke free in a frenzy, trampling everything in their path. A strange, low hum vibrated through the adventurers’ minds, causing a moment of disorientation. Most people around them recovered quickly, but several, including the party's psionicists, collapsed in the chaos.
Despite the confusion, the adventurers recognized the immediate danger—the berserk mekillots were charging straight toward them. Reacting swiftly, Fazanna cast a Wall of Force, trapping the mekillots until their handlers could regain control.
The adventurers hurried toward the Council Chambers, feeling that something was wrong in Tyr. The psionicists in the group were still disoriented, and as they passed through the streets, they witnessed scenes of destruction caused by berserk mekillots, inix, and crodlus. Some animals had been quickly subdued or killed, but one disturbing scene involved a thri-kreen lying in its own ichor, surrounded by templars and citizens. Witnesses claimed the thri-kreen had gone mad at the same time the animals began rampaging. Despite the damage, things seemed to be returning to normal.
At the Council Chambers, the adventurers found the atmosphere tense and crowded with aides and retainers engaged in heated debate. A sudden shout announced the arrival of Sadira of Tyr, who presented several reports to the Council. The reports included warnings of a dragon approaching Tyr, halfling raiders in the Ringing Mountains, and a united thri-kreen horde planning to invade. There were also reports of sabotaged trade routes and growing internal tensions among the merchant guilds.
The Councilors were divided in their opinions. Rikus, the army commander, believed Tyr was under attack, while Senator Turax threatened to withdraw his troops if Sadira couldn't protect the city. Others, like Verranasi, focused on the interference with mental powers caused by the animal rampage. Despite the debate, no clear plans of action were decided.
As the meeting ended, the adventurers were approached by Sadira, who looked tired and pained. She explained that she had sensed a powerful psionic interference suppressing abilities throughout Tyr and believed a great threat loomed over the city. She asked the adventurers to investigate the source of the disruption, particularly in the western regions where rumors of disturbances were spreading. She offered supplies, equipment, and a reward of 100 silver pieces each upon discovering the source of the interference. Sadira asked them to meet her at her estate the following morning to prepare for the mission.
Sadira's estate was small and humble, reflecting her practical, down-to-earth nature. Located in the heart of the city, it lacked the grand farms of the nobility but was well-kept. When the adventurers arrived, Sadira greeted them warmly at the door, thanking them for coming and offering supplies and mounts for their journey. Without warning, a shimmering blue light appeared in the middle of the room, startling them. Through the portal stepped Mahlanda, the magical avangion, who reassured them with a calm smile.
Mahlanda explained that the psionic interference they had been experiencing had spread through Tyr and was a dire threat that could drive thousands insane or cause death if not stopped. She asked for their help in investigating the cause of the interference, warning that it could destroy Athas. She mentioned her plan to investigate some sources of information and requested their assistance in obtaining an ancient scroll on the relationship between psionics and magic. The scroll was said to be in the library of Othand, located in the ruins of an ancient town in the Tablelands, near a camp of Black Sand Raiders and their defiler. Mahlanda explained that the library had likely not been pillaged, but the defiler may have removed the scroll. She asked the adventurers to retrieve it and bring it to her at Desverendi's Valley in 15 days.
Mahlanda provided details on the location and warned the adventurers to be cautious of the Black Sand Raiders. After a final wave, Mahlanda vanished through the portal.
Sadira then provided the adventurers with supplies for the journey, including riding kanks, a pack kank for additional supplies, rations, water, bedrolls, and other necessary items. She wished them a safe journey as they mounted their kanks and left for the wastes of Athas. As they departed, the city of Tyr seemed eerily silent, and Sadira called out a final farewell, wishing them good luck on their mission.
Anvar led the group through the harsh landscape, his determination clear as he kept a steady pace despite the oppressive heat of the wastes. Karnos walked by his side, offering quiet counsel and aiding where needed. Zahraan, ever vigilant, took the role of outrider, his keen eyes scanning the horizon as he rode ahead, prepared to scout any danger that might appear on the barren horizon. Shank, now appointed quartermaster, took charge of the supplies, keeping a careful tally of their dwindling resources. His brother Shiv, eager to contribute, worked beside him, organizing and ensuring everything was packed for the journey ahead.
Safely ensconced in their roles, Safi and Fazanna took their shifts as sentries, ever-watchful against the dangers that might lurk in the wastelands. Anvar, feeling the weight of the group's journey, brewed tonics to ease the weary travelers, his hands steady as he worked. Zahraan, though he tried, struggled to inspire the group with his solemn words, his voice carrying little weight in the face of the arduous trek. Meanwhile, Shank spent the night before indulging in some carousing, attempting to drown the tension with a bit of levity. Safi, always practical, studied the weather, attempting to predict any coming storms. Fazanna, too, consulted the occult, seeking answers in the unseen forces that might influence their path, while Shiv meticulously packed their belongings.
Karnos, ever the scholar, researched their destination with a focused mind, pouring over maps and notes. Despite his determination, Anvar struggled to harness his inward resolve, unable to push the group forward with the strength he wished he had. Zahraan, unfazed, blazed the trail, his steps sure as he navigated the harsh terrain. Shank, ever the pragmatist, shared the load, ensuring no one was overwhelmed. Safi, sharp-eyed and alert, took the first watch, her gaze sweeping the horizon as the others rested.
In the distance, the horizon shimmered as if aflame, revealing a range of jagged peaks that appeared carved from pure glass. The sunlight danced across their crystalline faces, casting brilliant rainbows that shifted and pulsed with the wind. Even from afar, the mountains exuded an otherworldly presence, their sheer beauty a stark contrast to the harsh desert surrounding them.
Something about the sight stirred their spirits—a quiet determination, as though the peaks called out with a silent promise of resilience. Yet, even at this distance, they could see the treacherous paths winding through the glittering range, and the occasional glint of falling debris warned of the dangers that awaited should they approach. The mountains beckoned, both inspiring and foreboding, their allure impossible to ignore. As they drew closer, the shimmering peaks loomed larger, their crystalline faces refracting the sunlight into shifting patterns that danced across the ground around them. The air grew cooler, carrying a faint, otherworldly hum that resonated in their chests. With each step, the mountains' beauty became more overwhelming, as if the peaks themselves pulsed with a quiet, magical vitality.
After six days of travel, a small compound appeared through the dust and haze of the Athasian day. It was Silver Spring, a foul oasis controlled by a band of ruthless elven rogues. The group halted a bowshot from the walls and waited. An elven sentry appeared, bow at the ready, shouting, "A silver piece to water here, travelers!" The group knew well that the toll was just the beginning of their expenses in Silver Spring and decided to move on.
A strong, searing wind had been blasting them all day, and as they pushed through the heat and dust, the barren, rocky plains gave way to a vast, black sandy waste. They squinted in disbelief at the legendary black sands of the Tablelands and prepared to search for the ancient ruins rumored to lie in the area. As the wind drove the dark sands, they almost missed the dust plumes of riders approaching. Looking up, they noticed their own passage was marked by a dark plume of dust.
Fazanna cast haste on Shank and activated her bladesong ability. One of the raiders on his kank closed the distance and struck Anvar with two javelins. Safi cast detect defiler but sensed none. Another raider and kank closed in, throwing javelins at Anvar; he deflected one but was hit by another. Shank dashed in, striking a raider three times and dropping him, then moved to another raider, landing a hit. A third raider charged at Shank, striking with his lance.
Zahraan used his step of the wind ability to close the gap with Shiv, then activated his flamebite sword, landing two hits. Another raider charged at Shank, hitting him with a lance. Shiv used bait and switch with Zahraan, then unleashed his breaker of minds ability from his maul, followed by an action surge, landing two blows. Karnos attempted to use his blasting crystal but missed. A group of raiders surrounded Safi, throwing javelins, many of which struck their mark.
Zahraan used step of the wind again, pulling Anvar and Shiv away from Shank, who seemed close to losing control. Shank used his coffin of the iron mountain ability, trapping himself and several raiders under a miniature volcano. Safi stepped back and cast ice storm on the raiders near him, while one raider charged him, landing a hit with his lance.
Fazanna moved away from Shank's volcano and cast fireball twice, killing all but two of the raiders. Shiv quickly finished off the remaining two. Inside the volcanic dome, Shank finished off three raiders before magma erupted. The last raider slit his throat, promising Shank's death by the Black Sand Raiders before passing.
The sand was fine and black beneath their feet, still cooling from the day's heat. As they crested a high dune, they found themselves overlooking the ruins of an ancient city, its crumbling buildings scattered across the floor of a shallow valley. Most structures were reduced to piles of wind-sculpted rubble, but a few buildings in the center remained intact. Several tents dotted the central area, with cooking fires burning and people moving about. At the heart of the camp stood a dark stone tower, its roof mostly collapsed, but the lower floors seemed habitable. The group noticed two guards in black, hooded robes—likely the Black Sand Raiders.
Fazanna cast Arcane Eye to explore. The tower at the center of the camp was once grand, rising 80 to 90 feet into the air, but now its upper levels had fallen. Narrow windows could be seen on the second floor, and the only entrance appeared to be a stout door on the northern side. The stone felt cold and sweaty to the touch.
Approaching a nearby tent, they saw game animals drying on racks outside, indicating it was a kitchen. Two guards stood vigilantly at the only door, the flap tightly secured by complex knots. The tent’s floor was made of wood, and the sides were sewn to the flooring for extra security. The door flap was tightly knotted down.
Another tent had a door flap open, though secured with knots, and featured slats made from mekiliot ribs sewn with sturdy leather thongs.
One of the ancient buildings was crowned with winged horrors, and through the high windows, they glimpsed dim candlelight, indicating it was still inhabited. Two guards stood outside, and the interior was lavishly appointed, with grotesque trophies such as goblets made from human skulls and necklaces of teeth and mummified ears. Several chests were visible, and the building housed a large gladiator and a slight woman.
An extravagant tent was nearby, and another structure, partially buried by a sand dune, featured round minarets rising from jagged corners. The original archway was covered by a leather-bound mekillot rib door with a rare copper lock. Much of the interior was filled with sand, but a cleared space near the door held saddles, blankets, reins, and bridles for kanks, as well as waterskins, casks, and other miscellaneous gear.
Two more guards stood watch over a secured tent, with a floor made of wood and extra security in the form of sewn slats. Karnos used Clairvoyance to peer inside another tent, revealing treasure—trade goods such as silk, cotton, grain, amber, mekillot bone, hides, and dyes, along with numerous chests and a human-sized suit of Rasclinn Hide Armor.
Safi, with a glint of determination in his eyes, cast Pass Without Trace, shrouding himself in an invisible aura of secrecy. With a swift motion, he wildshaped into a small rodent, his form shrinking as his instincts sharpened. He scurried silently across the sands, his tiny paws barely making a sound as he neared the treasure tent. There, with precision and care, he nibbled a small hole into the canvas, the fabric giving way quietly under his tiny teeth.
Inside, the flickering shadows of the camp provided little cover, but Safi was undeterred. He released his wildshape, his form shifting back into his familiar elven self. His hands moved quickly, slipping the exquisite Rasclinn Hide Armor into a bag of holding, the weight of the treasure seeming to pulse with the promise of power. Just as swiftly, he wildshaped once more into a rodent and, with the stolen prize safely stowed, scurried back toward the group. His heart raced with each quiet movement, the tension in the air thick as he slipped past the guards and back into the shadows, the treasure now in his possession.
Fazanna, her eyes gleaming with arcane power, cast Polymorph on Safi, transforming him into a small, flying kank, his new insect form buzzing with energy. He took to the air, wings beating with a soft hum, as he darted toward the towering structure looming in the distance. The ancient tower called to him, its secrets beckoning from above.
With agile precision, Safi flew up to the upper floor, slipping through the gaps in the crumbling stone. Inside, a defiler sat hunched over a parchment, his eyes fixed on the dark script as though it whispered forbidden knowledge. The room was a bizarre mix of opulence and decay, with ancient desks and chairs carefully restored, their polished surfaces reflecting the glimmer of fine carpets and tapestries that adorned the walls—evidence of the loot from countless caravan raids. The scent of old wealth lingered in the air, mingling with the oppressive aura of the defiler’s presence.
Safi moved on, his insect form fluttering silently through the rest of the tower. In one room, a decaying pile of furniture lay haphazardly in the corner, with rotting tapestries barely clinging to the walls. The air was thick with dust and the stench of neglect. The next room, a storeroom, housed three chests—cracked and faded—and two giant scorpions, their menacing forms coiled and waiting, their pincers twitching in the dim light. Moving quickly, Safi slipped through a door into another chamber, this one littered with ruined tapestries and banners, the remnants of a once grand space. Broken chairs and the shattered remains of a large table were scattered across the floor, which was covered in a thin layer of black sand. The remnants of a forgotten age seemed to whisper their stories as Safi surveyed the ruin, the weight of history pressing down on him.
At Shank's quiet suggestion, the group moved like shadows through the ruins, their steps deliberate and silent. They slipped past the patrolling guards, avoiding the meager security with ease, their movements seamless and sure. When they reached the tower, they paused, hearts thumping in their chests. With a collective breath, they pushed open the heavy door.
The moment they stepped inside, the air hit them—stale and thick with the scent of decay. The hall before them was a forgotten place, abandoned to time and ruin. Tattered tapestries hung limply from the walls, their once-vibrant colors faded and drained of life. Banners, now nothing more than sad remnants of a past age, swayed faintly in the stagnant air. Scattered across the floor were the broken remains of a massive table and shattered chairs, their wooden frames cracked and splintered, lost to decay. The floor beneath their feet was covered in a thin layer of black sand, which crunched with each cautious step, adding an eerie soundtrack to the oppressive silence.
The shadows seemed to press in around them, unnervingly still, as though the room itself was holding its breath. As their eyes swept across the ruin, a faint, almost imperceptible movement caught their gaze. Behind the sagging tapestries, six hulking b’rohg zombies lurked, their rotting forms coiled with the promise of violence. They were poised, waiting—silent, monstrous, and ready to strike at any moment. The air in the room grew heavier, the threat of danger palpable as the group prepared for the looming confrontation.