Session Preface:
As the melted, charred form of the blue dragon smolders in the cold desert sand, the healing prayer of Zeus' faithfulness wafts through the air, restoring King Hekaton and Imperator Uthor to consciousness. As the king stirs, he lets out an agonizing groan and surveys the wounds he and his compatriot received.
Uthor stands to his feet with a notable exertion of energy and struggling to put weight on one of his legs, helping the King to his feet as he does. Soon after, three of the giant guards enter into the room as well. "My King, Imperator, our sincerest apologies for being waylaid. Shortly after your descent, several children of the dragon returned and we were caught between them and the onslaught of stone nuicelnses. Moments ago, however, the storm overhead dissipated, the gargoyles collapsed back into ruined statues, and the dragons began fighting amongst themselves before flying off. I'm sorry to report Orlekto, husband of Princess Mirran, did not survive the onslaught. He fought valiantly, but was caught unaware when the dragons ambushed us."
"Thank you, Vaasha. The three of you search the southern corridors and ensure no other waiting traps or surprises lay in place for us."
As the giants begin their search, you realize there is now an unsettling quiet which has fallen over the chamber. The abyssal chanting of the yuan-ti no longer pulses through the room like a cadence of the concluded conflict. The soft shifting of sand interrupts the quiet as the three remaining yuan-ti move towards Emmyth.
"Thank you for freeing usss. The dragon captured many of our brood and killed them when ssshe did not like the anssswer ssshe received from the Night Ssserpent. We are all that'sss left of our brood. We know not where thisss throne you ssseek is held, but many of the dragon's treasssuresss were buried beneath the sssand in the chamber behind thisss wall. Thank your large reptilian friend for sssparing sssome of usss." Bowing their heads, the three remaining yuan-ti mystics slither away through the sand.
As the hall falls quiet once more, the King surveys the chamber. Looking each of you in the eye in turn, the king proclaims through still bated breaths "Thank you for your valor this day. We have served justice against the sower of chaos in my court and the cause of my dear queen's death. Now, let us search these ruins for the Korolnor Scepter and Wyrmskull Throne."
Session Summary:
After a moment's respite, the party continues exploring the ruins, eventually finding the hidden treasure trove. A brief battle against waiting air elementals breaks out, but soon after the party is gathering gold coins and powerful magical artifacts discovered buried in the sand. After hours of thorough searching, the throne and scepter are nowhere to be found and the storm giants return to Maelstrom to convene with Stromnaus as to their next actions.
Back in the storm giant's court, Serissa thanks the party and explains that the re-establishment of the Ordning has occurred with Storm Giants still atop the other races, but she knows there is still much work and reparations to be made. She asks the heroes to reach out to the Lord's Alliance on giant's behalf and to keep an eye out for the throne and scepter for while they are no longer what secures her authority, they are still powerful and sentimental relics better kept out of the hands of Imyrith's allies.
After saying farewell and promising a future favor to the party should need arise, Serissa teleports Hawk, Thaust, and Emmyth back to Durindale. The party members scatter to find food and friends and rest as Durindale makes preparations for a celebratory feast in their honor.
During the festivities, Emmyth hires Ivan, Zephyros, and Barakas, now calling themselves the Skeazy Three, to find his mother, who left Waterdeep when he was only a child, in exchange for a good bit of gold and goes to prepare the contract for their agreement.
Session Conclusion:
Warmth from the hearth radiates from the center of the chamber as laughter and the clanging of mugs against wooden tables ring out across the festhall. Across the dozen long wooden tables, the entire community gathers in celebration. In addition to the consistent presence of the dwarf leader of the bustling community and the half-elf bartender furiously keeping up with the excitement of the evening, many of the heroes of Durindale have returned for this momentous occasion.
A wolf and her ranger companion sit alongside a pair of blue dragonborn and a beautiful red tiefling who flicks her knife between her fingers while Gil and Davan bicker to themselves and the ranger laughs quietly to himself. Another red tiefling sits alongside a genasi and a monster hunter as they knock back their numerous tankards and begin singing songs to themselves along with the craftsmen of the city.
Even as Winter gives way to Spring across the Sword Coast, the snow continues to fall around the central hill of Durindale, a strange spell resulting from an equally strange fellow, a companion from the earliest days of this unexpected journey. Amarin sits, thankfully clothed, with several student sorcerers as he recounts yet again his involvement in saving Goldenfields from hill giants by derobing and calling down fire from the skies while standing on the tavern rooftop.
Further down the table is a small band of half-orcs, their faces adorned with dark painted markings resembling that of a bear. Among them, one wears a large bear fur as a cloak wrapped around his otherwise bare and scarred chest. Bobo, the cloaked half-orc and now chieftain watches Amarin, who still seems to believe in his peculiar magics, and laughs, roughly translating Amarin's antics for his fellow tribesmen and explaining his own involvement in the events in which he singlehandedly chased down giants and destroyed them with only his club and might.
At the next table, a weary yet smiling Knight of Holy Judgement, clad in his polished armor and the hammer and scale symbol of Tyr, sits across from a large construct with an open cabinet in his chest which he is quickly filling with food. The construct laughs nervously as he recounts his own unintentional involvement in the knight's death as well as his resolute focus in recovering the components necessary for her resurrection. The two nod in understanding, bonded by the unique experience of finding oneself living after death and how it changes a person in unexpected ways.
The three heroes of the day sit together at the central table, surrounded by friends and family. "Tell it again! Tell it again!" a small half-elf girl squeaks out jubilantly as the table shares a collective laugh and the story obligingly picks up once again. Gerard and Lorelei listen intently to the recounting of the adventure while Gwynnestri bounces joyfully on her uncle's lap, holding her Waterdhavian nobleman doll. Mya listens in as well, her gaze unwavering from Hawk's face, her infectious smile glowing radiantly in the warm torchlight. Across from Mya, Theirastra sits next to her son, her heart bursting with pride, her eyes watering picturing her dear Thamior looking on his son with joy and honor. She places a supportive hand on Thaust's shoulder as Hawk recounts her son's heroics in saving his friends against the onslaught of the vampiric undead. Mya wraps her arm around Hawk as he recounts the bittersweet return to Waterdeep, the deal struck for their transport, and the drow attack beneath the mines of a historic dwarven stronghold. Lorelei nods approvingly to her brother as the story recounts his cunning and wit saving the party on not a few occasions.
As the story eventually concludes, Mya leans her shoulder into Hawk's chest while looking around the festive chamber. "There's so many of the characters you've told me about here tonight. It must be really rare to see everyone all together, huh?" Her eyes then move to Lorelei, who exchanges a smile, thankful for this new, adopted member of her family. "We can entertain ourselves for a moment. You heroes go say hello to everyone who's here to see you, I'm sure you have a lot of catching up to do." Lorelei says. She winks to Emmyth before turning to smile at Thaust and Hawk in turn as well. "Plus you know Second's not gonna let you get out of here without him making some toast," Mya continues, "so it's best to get your conversations in now before he starts."
As the evening quiets for a moment, Second rises to his feet, clanging his mug for the room's attention.
"Friends, we gather on this festive occasion to celebrate the heroes of Durindale who have not only restored order to the world of giants, but saved the Sword Coast from certain decimation in the process. Many of us here played a small role in this noble quest, but it is these three individuals who held fast against the harrowing journey and dangerous threats at every turn. These individuals traversed the Sword Coast all the way from Daggerford to the Spine of the World to deep below the Sea of Swords to the eastern desert beyond Ascore. These heroes survived bouts with not only giants of all kinds, but vampires, orcs, mummified warriors from another realm, run-ins with the seven snakes of the Zhentarim, countless nightmarish creatures of the underdark, powerful drow mages, more than one company of cultists, psychic zombie rats and their mindflayer puppet master, and of course, several dragons. These heroes returned a father to his family and restored order in the midst of unprecedented upheaval.
All of these monstrosities and threats fell before the collective strength and determination of the men we gather to celebrate this evening. Rydan Hawkwinter, noble by blood but more so by deed and courage. Emmyth Qizorwyn, wise and skilled beyond his years with a heart of gold for those he loves. And last but not least, Thaust, the firbolg friend to all who only requires a first name.
I first met Hawk and Thaust when we served together in Goldenfield, a story I know Amarin and Bobo have shared at least once this evening already. It was during this inciting incident did I first truly saw the valor of these two individuals willing to stand between a giant four times their size and their goal and say "No, you will not have your way here."
Though individually, these two are capable and strong, I would argue it is their deep friendship which sustains them and makes their pairing more than the sum of its parts. Much like me, for I am made of many parts, but am more than the sum of them. This is all the more true of the party since Emmyth joined our ranks. We are all aware of the numerous occasions in which his wit or casting prowess prevented catastrophe for our heroes. We likely would be mourning rather than celebrating if it were not for his involvement in this quest.
With that, I would like to propose a toast. To Hawk, Emmyth, and Thaust. To their courage. To their determination. And to their friendship. May they be an example to each of us as we go from this place back into a world in need of all of these things, but especially friendship. To the heroes of Durindale!
As tankards clang together and roaring cheers and applause breakout across the festhall, each of you in turn are pulled from the moment as a strange sensation courses through your nerves. Starting from the tip of your fingers and running like electric pulses racing through your arms, a sharp burning needle of pain cuts through your palm. In unison, each of you turn your hands over and feel your stomachs drop as your own signature traces the scars on your palm, glowing in a sickly crimson hue. "Ten days" a piercing voice speaks into your minds, "and counting."
Comments