Aftermath

Session 146

Characters: Tulgar, Anthony, Grim, Samael.

NPCs: 27 Grey Wolf Uthgardt barbarian scouts, 60 Acolytes of the Cleansing Flame, Baron Thomdor the Warden of the Eastern Marches, Oversword Dutharr the Sheriff of Arabel, Lady Myrmeen Lhal of Arabel, Lionar Dakulbel.

M 19 Mirtul 1374 – L 19 Mirtul 1374

3620 XP

In the wake of the epic spell battle, the party returned to Arabel to hear the victory horns blasting triumphantly from every battlement. Grim remained at the cratered battleground in shock at the dead magic zone he had helped create.

Tulgar ran quickly through the streets of Arabel and found the Uthgart barbarians at the southwest tradeway stacking the dead Red Ravens like lumber into nearby wagons. The great son of Gar addressed the Uthgardt scouts and was greeted with a boisterous welcome. Many of the tribesmen had not yet had the opportunity to look upon Tulgar’s great frame and icy aura. Tulgar spoke with their Sharptooth about the possibility of calling the remaining Greywolves from the King’s forest to Arabel. The Grey wolves agreed at once, saying that their brethren could be at Arabel after the next sunset. After they are finished cleaning the bloody street outside Wellstar’s Tower and the Temple of Tymora Tulgar and his entourage of Grey Wolve scouts headed north to Castle Arabel.

Samael walked into the north gate and was greeted heartily by Sheriff Dutharr whom was busy giving cleanup orders to the nearby militia. The Sheriff thanked the brave elf and his fellow adventurers for their incredible deeds. Dutharr also asked about their investigation, the whereabouts of the Cult of the Dragon, and if they have heard any news on where the Eye Rippers currently were. Samael could not answer Dutharr’s overriding questions, which sapped much of the glory of their recent battle from his spirit. There was still so much to be done.

Anthony Manton arrived at Castle Arabel to find the remaining 16 Acolytes of the Cleansing Flame preparing their 44 fallen brethren for burial. They stopped at once and knelt before Anthony, whom thanked the brave acolytes for their service in the name of Tyr. Heart wrenched by the great number of casualties, Anthony Manton led the remaining 3 squads in prayer. He called out to Tyr and asked that these noble warriors be returned to the living. The Acolytes watched on, awestruck by the Miracle which took place before their eyes as the 44 dead Acolytes began to heal as if still alive and took their first new breaths of air. After the ceremony, the 60 Acolytes of the Cleansing Flame prayed along with Saint Manton.

Soon after the last of the holy rites were spoken, Lionar Dakulbel of Calantar Keep Teleported into the Castle grounds. He immediately notified Constal Manton that Calantar Keep had recently come under siege by the army of Giorgi Wyvernspur. The two Parliamentarian strikes had been executed simultaneously in an effort to gain control of the middle of Cormyr before the orcs could descend upon them.

Tulgar approached Castle Arabel with his 27 grizzled Uthgardt scouts and spoke with Anthony Manton about the most recent events. Just then, the ground shook as Baron Thomdor rode into the front gate mounted atop his heavy warhorse, 10 Purple Dragon cavalrymen at his side. Soon after, Samael and Sherriff Dutharr arrived from the north gate as well. Thomdor told the party that Arabel would indeed be the Royalist’s last stand. The towns of Eveningstar, Bospir, and Yeoman Bridge had all evacuated already into Arabel over the previous few days. With Giorgi Wyvernspur’s Army and the Parliamentarian city of Immersea to the south, there would be nowhere else to retreat. Tulgar pointed out that since the remaining Parliamentarian brigade had quickly retreated back to Castle Crag they had left behind the vast array of heavy artillery on the field of battle. Thomdor was impressed by the forward thinking of such a barbarous son of Uthgardt and asked that they arrange for the artillery to be taken back within Arabel and positioned to the north if the orcs should descend upon them again.

Thomdor then stated that he thought it was likely that the Parliamentarians could still make it back to Castle Crag in time before the orcs could catch them in the open fields of the Stonelands. This he thought was a good thing, as the defenders of Castle Crag would be able to exact great numbers of casualties into the orc forces before they reached Arabel. Thus, the Royalist victory at Arabel had brought with it the pleasant surprise that the Parliamentarians were now forced into the position of fighting a last stand against the orcish horde at Castle Crag.

Meanwhile, Grim was still kneeling just outside the crater of devastation north of Arabel. He stared at the torn Weave fibers as they waved gently into the dead magic zone as if blown by some cosmic wind. Grim had repaired a great number of wild and dead magic zones in his time, but none had been his own doing. Reaching out with his missing hand, Grim called out to Mystra begging her forgiveness for this event. He stated that not all had been his fault, that his two enemies, Bladeweaver and Fianche had recklessly weakened the Weave prior to his Disjunction. Still, he admitted fault to her and again begged for her mercy. Grim asked Mystra that she allow him to repair the damage he had wrought open the Weave, and promised he would forever act as a defender of the Weave; to protect and repair it for as long as he lived. His Wish was answered.

Grim looked out into the dead magic zone and saw the sparkling white fibers lengthen at the edges and wind together. The strands whirled in and out, suturing the Weave back together gradually. Grim smiled with great relief as he knew the Weave would once again return, but that is when he realized where the extra fibers where coming from; his body. The Weave sewed faster and faster still, and for every strand which returned Grim felt as if he was being drained. He felt a sudden urge to fight against it, but relented knowing that this was the will of the Goddess. As the last of the fibers linked together, Grim collapsed on the ground anemic and powerless. The last rays of fading red Arabel sunlight swirled in his vision as he lost consciousness.

Later that night, a squad of Arabel militiamen rode out in search for Grim. The soldiers cautiously approached the great wizard, dragged his upon their horses and rode back into Arabel. Grim awoke gradually as the horse began to gallop ahead through the north gate and over the mound of rubble. Later, he laid in bed in Castle Arabel Grim and focused with all his concentration upon himself in search of any remaining glimmer of arcana. Finally, after moments of terror and the thought that he had entirely exchanged his gift of Mystra for redemption he felt an arcane ember resonate within him still. It was feint, and weak, and reminded him of the first moment when he discovered his talent as a child; but it was there.

Meanwhile, with the help of Lady Myrmeen Lhal, Samael had organized a great victory rally in the large Temple of Tymora. After a great feast, many games were held throughout the temple. The residents of Arabel including Lady Lhal were devout followers of the Luck Goddess, for she had come to them in the Time of Troubles and walked upon this very ground. To the Arabellens it was no coincidence they had yet again survived another fearsome threat. At the end of the feast, Samael performed a number of incredible death defying acts of acrobatics, balance, and skill as the Arabellens and refugees looked on in wonder.

Arabel had been saved yet again; the glory of battle was alive in the hearts of all its citizens and defenders. But its victory came at a great cost for many, and the threat of 2 Corps of Obold’s orcs still loomed over the northern horizon.

The Seige of the City of Crossroads

Session 145

Characters: Nomin, Tulgar, Anthony, Grim, Julian, Terus, Samael.

NPCs: 60 Grey Wolf Uthgardt barbarian scouts, 120 Purple Dragon Knights, 240 Arabel Militiamen, 60 Acolytes of the Cleansing Flame, 1 brigade of parliamentarian soldiers (3000), 1 brigade of Red Raven mercenaries (3000), Isidar Fianche, Blastum Bladeweaver, Sage Mellomir, Baron Thomdor the Warden of the Eastern Marches, Oversword Dutharr the Sheriff of Arabel.

E 19 Mirtul 1374 – M 19 Mirtul 1374

4000 XP

Hours earlier, the soldiers of Arabel watched from the city’s battlements as Isidar Fianche ordered the large parliamentarian force into battle groups. To the north of Arabel was stationed a brigade of roughly 3000 parliamentarian soldiers whom Isidar had set in reserve. By dawn, Flankmaster Fianche had already stationed a full battalion of 1000 red raven mercenaries near each of Arabel’s three city gates, but just out of reach of the battlement artillery. The total attacking force was estimated at 3000, with another 3000 in reserve should the Parliamentarians choose to commit fully to the assault.

The Great Sage Mellomir had awaited the attackers with patience, and great preparations. He had ensured the city walls were secure, reinforced his tower with additional magical defenses, and informed Baron Thomdor and Sheriff Dutharr of the likely tactics of the attackers during the upcoming battle. Mellomir had only utilized his most basic of spells to reinforce the city and bolster the morale of its defenders. With his help, the half ruined stone buildings adjacent to the northern gate were rigged to fall upon the attackers if they were to break through. The parliamentarians had brought with them a devastating array of artillery from Castle Crag. It was obvious to Mellomir that Fianche planned to sack Arabel quickly without the artillery, and then use the city’s walls to hold back the Corp of Obold’s orcs as his artillery annihilated them. The great artillery batteries lie still and lifeless, behind Fianche’s brigade of reserves.

Baron Thomdor prepared according to Mellomir’s words, arranging his much smaller force into raiding parties of guerilla fighters throughout the tightly winding streets of Arabel. In the days prior, Thomdor and Dutharr had spent their time teleporting between Suzail and Arabel. In Arabel they had gathered together the city’s maximum fighting force. It was comprised of Arabel’s remaining 120 Purple Dragon Knights, 120 trapped caravan guardsmen, and 240 Arabel militiamen. Tulgar had alerted his Grey Wolf barbarians whom had been roaming the northeastern portion of the King’s Forest to come to Arabel’s aid. With the help of Lionar Dakubel, a fighting force of 60 Acolytes of the Cleansing Flame were Gated to Arabel.

Herald Wellstar of Arabel also made a few contributions to the city’s defense. Although he was a skilled magician, Wellstar’s interests mostly lied in the far more occult area of science. While many were aware of Wellstar’s study of the stars and weather, it was his knowledge of the dwarven and gnomish instruments that led him in creating a large supply of 7 kegs filled with a strange black explosive powder. Although Baron Thomdor accepted this gift with a crooked brow, he instilled a great deal of confidence in the Arabel militiamen ordered to position the kegs. The militia placed the kegs along the main tradeway streets of the city, just behind each of the city gates, and in front the gates of Castle Arabel itself. Hopefully, they would not have to make a last stand, but if they did, the last powder keg would provide an unforgettable signal to the end.

The morning sun was still rising, illuminating a vast field of destruction beyond Arabel’s north gate where the first Corp of Obold’s orcs had been defeated. Red flags bearing unusual symbols were beginning to rise from the command units to the north; their counterparts signaled back from the readied battalions positioned beyond each city gate. None of the three battalions carried with them siege towers or battering rams, yet they began to charge. Just as Oversword Dutharr set the long range artillery to fire at will; great fiery meteors streaked down from the orange atmosphere and crashed into the wooden gates with surgical precision. Shards of burning wood and meteor stones exploded only inward toward the city as if their destructive power was shunted by some great magical force. The archers upon the city’s battlements struggled to regain their positions as the Red Raven mercenaries charged into the city gates.

Mellomir had surely seen Fianche’s plans to break through the city walls, the battle’s aftermath, both its heartbreak and its heroics; and yet he had chosen not to spend his epic spellcasting prowess on its defense. Whether it was the fact he felt magically outmatched by both Bladeweaver and Fianche, or some other more pressing matter calling his presence was unknown. The fact of the matter was however, that Mellomir had not made his presence known as of yet. He was either still in waiting preparing to strike, or was simply gone!

The Red Raven shock troopers charged into the city maintaining their battle formations with fierce speed despite their full plate armor and steel shields. Purple Dragon Knights and militiamen manned the battlements, bathing many of the Red Ravens in burning oil. Reserve troops stationed outside the gates unleashed deadly hails of arrows into the battlements above exposed archers. The defenders of Arabel awaited the charging shock troops, hidden in the many alleys and abandoned buildings along the main tradeway. Just before the defenders launched their ambushes, the powder kegs hidden in dead horses, broken wagons, and crumbled rocks were set off. Thomdor nearly laughed out loud at the tremendous concussive blasts on the far reaches of the city as Red Ravens were thrown in all directions. The defenders on the battlements continued to fire their bows and drop oil into the murder holes along the gate.

Although they exacted a great deal of casualties the Red Ravens rallied quickly and continued to charge in knowing that beyond the deadly gates was the glory of battle. As the next company of mercenaries flooded through the north gate, the defenders collapsed Mellomir’s deceptively stable stone buildings. The crash of stones killed the entire company of mercenaries, throwing up a massive cloud of stone dust in its wake. Now just beyond the north gate sat a great stone levy 3 men tall at its peak which the Red Ravens would have to charge over. As the next company behind slowly made their way over the brick mound the third company was stuck in the murder zone between the north gate’s walls. Burning oil and hails of arrows struck nearly all of the attackers as they concentrated in the kill zone.

The battle at the east and south gates was not going nearly as well however. Already a number of ambush teams had been discovered and assaulted by the Red Raven mercenaries. Still, many of the defenders were able to launch deadly surprise attacks into the Red Raven mercenaries as they bore their way through the main tradeways. Once all out melee was joined with the Red Ravens, the militiamen of Arabel found themselves outmatched. Even the well-trained Purple Dragons were challenged by the skill of the Red Ravens who began to organize and re-group with surprising calmness despite the calamity of the explosions, incoming arrow fire, and ambushes. The Red Ravens grouped themselves into shield walls and pushed forward through the main tradeways in the eastern and southern city limits.

As the Red Ravens marched forward, a second explosive keg was detonated at the eastern city limit sending the Red Raven into disarray and adding to their already substantial casualties. A third company of Red Ravens charged quickly forward and assaulted into a number of militiamen and Purple Dragons. The Acolytes of the Cleansing Flame ambushed from the northern city street and began to hold off the growing front of Red Raven soldiers. By this time, the Red Ravens had also exacted a great number of casualties from the defenders. A number of militia units were already completely destroyed, and the Purple Dragons were continuing to take on wounded soldiers as they fell back towards Mellomir’s tower.

At the southern gate, the Red Ravens continued to push forward. For every ambush into their ranks, the Red Ravens launched a counter-assault from within their ranks exacting a near equal number of casualties. The southern gate militiamen also set off an explosive powder keg lying in the city streets, killing nearly the entire forward company of Red Ravens. As the Red Ravens re-grouped once more, the fever of battle overwhelmed the Grey Wolf barbarians. The fierce Uthgardt tribesmen charged out from their hidden positions, smashing into the re-grouping Red Ravens and breaking apart a partial shield wall. Formal melee again broke out in the streets as militiamen charged in to join the Grey Wolves. Purple Dragons continued to rain burning oil down upon the incoming companies of Red Ravens.

The battle beyond the eastern gate had now reached Mellomir’s tower seated in the middle of Arabel just blocks southeast of Castle Arabel itself. Purple Dragons and Arabel militia rallied around the tower as the Red Ravens marched into a deadly melee for both sides. Mellomir’s apprentices did not merely watch from above. They threw down arcane blasts into the Red Raven platoons from the balconies and windows of the ancient stone tower. At the eastern gate the last of the Red Raven battalion charged through deciding instead to move north first down the northeastern city tradeway. The only remaining Purple Dragons, militiamen charged down from the eastern gate’s battlements to help the Acolytes of the Cleansing Flame battle back the Red Raven company. Despite their initial efforts, the Red Ravens were able to sustain the attacks with few casualties. The defenders of the eastern gate fell back as they became overwhelmed toward the Purple Dragon barracks of Arabel on the northeast corner of the city.

The battle at the northern gate still was going well, although the defenders were starting to run out of oil and arrows. The casualties wrought upon the north battalion of soldiers were far greater due to the levy of fallen stones. Red Raven mercenaries now had to charge over the mounting bodies of their own comrades in order to escape beyond the deadly northern gate. Unfortunately, nearly half of the Purple Dragon and militia squads ready to ambush the surviving soldiers were discovered. The Red Ravens rallied from beyond the wall of wreckage and entered a melee with the hidden units, forcing the remaining units to charge from their ambush points losing the element of surprise. The Red Raven shield walls and counter-assaults went off with clockwork efficiency despite the many wounded soldiers in their ranks. For the defenders of the north gate, it seemed they would have a good fight after all.

At the southern gate the Grey Wolves, Purple Dragons, and militia continued to fall back and made a stand at Wellstar’s tower. There, they battled bravely against an overwhelming number of Red Raven mercenaries. Without assistance it was obvious they could not sustain this level of engagement, and so they called out for the assistance of the Acolytes of the Cleansing Flame to bring a poorly positioned powder keg back to the southwestern tradeway. The available Acolytes mobilized to the call, falling back from their melees and moving quickly through the smaller streets and alleyways toward the last powder keg. Within minutes the Acolytes had arrived, displaced the keg carefully, and then moved west through the cramped city streets. As they moved, the Acolytes knew they were in grave danger of being ambushed by Red Ravens if they were found. However, the Acolytes arrived successful at the southwestern tradeway and hid the powder keg in a pile of rubble.

The Red Ravens moved around Wellstar’s tower and overflowed north along the southwestern tradeway. The Acolytes of the Cleansing Flame detonated Wellstar’s powder keg and destroyed the 3rd company at the southern gate. The blast revitalized the raging Grey Wolf barbarians who continued their sundering blows into the Red Raven ranks. Meanwhile at the battle for Mellomir’s tower continued to turn worse, as more Red Raven companies were reinforcing the position and overflowing toward Castle Arabel. The Red Ravens killed tens of militiamen as they pushed forward to capture the Mellomir’s tower. Just north of the eastern gate, the remaining Acolytes of the Cleansing Flame were engaged in a desperate fighting retreat toward the Purple Dragon Barracks. Purple Dragons and Arabel militiamen assaulted the Red Raven company from behind, but soon were also falling back toward the barracks as well.

The last Red Raven company charged through the deadly north gate whose own battlements were now dripping with blood and burning oil. The Purple Dragons and militia at the north gate engaged in a fighting retreat as well. The occupied Red Ravens were more susceptible to the remaining ambushes awaiting them just blocks south toward Castle Arabel. Eventually, the defenders were forced back together, as the front of battle moved slowly south. While there now remained only a handful of companies at the northern city limits, they were mostly unwounded, and well-prepared for the ambushes and explosive blasts. They marched forward checking for hidden traps and ambushes, counter-assaulting as they went.

The companies from the eastern and northern gate were now within a good arrow’s shot from Castle Arabel. The defenders from the eastern gate were nearly all destroyed, except for a number of squads which took refuge within Mellomir’s tower. At the northern gate the Purple Dragons set up a great shield wall before the gate. The Arabel militia climbed the castle’s battlements and began to launch more arrows and burning oil into the Red Raven companies. Wellstar’s last keg sat idle underfoot of the Red Ravens outside the Castle Arabel’s gate. The militia set off the last keg signaling their last stand with a thundering explosion. More Purple Dragons reinforced the shield wall, and a number of Acolytes of the Cleansing Flame moved behind to heal them as they were wounded. The Red Ravens quickly re-grouped as they had been trained and launched a second assault upon the Purple Dragon shield wall.

To the east, the Acolytes of the Cleansing Flame, and Purple Dragon Knights had made their way to the barracks. They rushed in as the gates closed, and began to climb the undermanned battlements. The Red Raven mercenaries charged forward with ferocious speed and managed to reach the gates before they were fully shut. The remaining Purple Dragons and Acolytes made a shield wall behind the barrack’s gate as a number of squads of militia manned the battlements.

Back at Castle Arabel, the Purple Dragon shield wall was holding strong. The wounded were being healed and replaced by Acolytes of the Cleansing flame as militia rained arrows down into the Red Ravens from the castle walls. Just as it seemed as if Tempest’s favor could be bestowed upon either side, the Sheriff Dutharr rallied the Purple Dragons for a final charge. They drew down the shield wall and caught the Red Ravens by surprise, fragmenting the remaining battalion. Then suddenly, the fierce melee was splintered by a thunderous blast as the sky north of Arabel erupted in fire and crashed down into the ground beyond the city. The epic spell battle shook the forces apart for seconds as the Weave rippled uncontrollably. The Purple Dragons rallied once again and soon the Red Ravens at the north gate were fighting for their lives and fleeing toward the city’s eastern gate. Great victory cheers erupted from Castle Arabel’s battlements.

Meanwhile however, a far more desperate melee was still well underway at Wellstar’s tower and the Purple Dragon barracks. The Grey Wolf barbarians and remaining militiamen continued to fight as the last of the Purple Dragons were killed around them. The battle fatigue was beginning to set in for the raging barbarians and the undertrained militia, yet the seasoned Red Ravens fought on voraciously. It was the sounds of Cormyrian victory horns which blasted from Castle Arabel just a half a mile north which bolstered the brave Arabel militia’s morale, and sent them surging back into the ranks of the Red Ravens. The Grey Wolves let out one final howl as the last of the mercenaries at the southern gate were cut down.

A second explosion knocked nearly every soldier at the north end of Arabel to his knees as a searing red light flashed over the city. The defenders of Arabel could not help but wonder whether this meant the fearsome Mages Fianche and Bladeweaver would descend upon them and whither them with their occult powers, or if the terrible generals had been challenged by something equally potent. What good would it be Baron Thomdor thought, if they won the battle within the city, but lost it against Fianche and Bladeweaver? In these troubled times it was painfully clear to the battle-hardened Warden that one could win the favor of Tempest, but it would mean almost nothing without winning Mystra’s as well.

At the barracks, the Purple Dragons, and Acolytes were able to make short work of the remaining Red Raven fighting force. The remaining mercenaries attempted to flee for their lives through the empty eastern city gate. Soon after it was clear the Red Ravens had relinquished victory, the defenders of Arabel climbed the city’s battlements and tallest buildings to look out at the northern wasteland for signs of Bladeweaver and Fianche. To their great surprise however, they saw in the midst of a magical wasteland, the outlines of the Heroes of the Forgotten Forest. The day had been won!

With their two epic generals gone, defeated by the Heroes of the Forgotten Forest, and an entire brigade of Red Ravens destroyed; the reserve Parliamentarian and Red Raven Brigades to retreated to the west toward Castle Crag. The result had been a great Royalist victory, but came at an equally great cost. Of the 60 Grey Wolf Uthgardt barbarians only 27 remained, however they had killed nearly 200 Red Raven mercenaries. The Acolytes of the Cleansing Flame took even greater casualties, losing 44 of their 60 holy warriors. Only 21 of the 120 Purple Dragon Knights of Arabel survived the battle, along with 98 of the 240 Arabel Militiamen. The high noon sun was already aging, casting jagged shadows throughout the blood-filled streets of Arabel. Baron Thomdor looked north as the remaining Parliamentarian Brigade fell back toward Castle Crag. His eyes did not follow the brigade however; they were fixed on the Storm Horn Mountains.

Fire Fight

Session 144

Characters: Cael, Nomin, Tulgar, Anthony, Grim, Julian.

NPCs: Isidar Fianche, Paragon Juvenile Red Dragon, Blastum Bladeweaver.

E 19 Mirtul 1374 – E 19 Mirtul 1374

11,600 XP

With the news that the Parliamentarians had assaulted Arabel, the party readied themselves immediately for battle with powerful enchantments and abjurations. Arcane Sendings sent by the War Wizards of Arabel informed the War Room that the gates were broken; the fierce Red Raven mercenaries were already charging in. Knowing they would have to square-off against Flankmaster Fianche and Bladeweaver the party did not hesitate.

The party Teleported into the charred badland which lay just outside the north gate of Arabel. Ahead stood two figures clad in shining red amour, in the middle a man-sized red dragon stood smiling on its haunches. Isidar Fianche addressed the party, stating his pleasure to duel against enemies as experienced and brave as they. The large reserve force of parliamentarian soldiers waited well beyond the badland but still within viewing distance. Battle was joined.

Julian charged forward without hesitation and cast a Force Cage around Blastum. Tulgar out-paced the sly rouge and unleashed a great attack against the waiting Flankmaster, but missed as he had underestimated Fianche’s speed. Nomin charged forth fully mounted and landed a powerful blow into Fianche’s pauldron, knocking him to his knees. Grim followed in suit and cast one of his signature Orbs of Force into Fianche. The party had made their plan known with quickness and efficiency that the Red Knight was their priority.

Blastum flashed out of the Force Cage with ease while he simultaneously evoked a Fireball upon the party with devastating power. The explosion sent the heroes flying in all directions leaving them disoriented and choking for air. Fianche rose quickly to his feet and invoked an epically powerful abjuration which Grim recognized as a Peripety. There would now be no use in targeting the Red Knight with ranged attacks, for they would simply deflect back upon the attacker. The fierce Red Dragon leapt upon Tulgar, ripped through his hardened skin, and thrashed his blood soaked claws through the air. Anthony Manton cast a Knight’s Move, kneeled beside Grim and Healed him of his horrible burns.

Cael had gathered his arcane strength and charged toward Fianche as a frosty haze built up around Calinus Brumalis. He struck into the Red Knight and unleashed a great blast of freezing weave; however Isidar’s epic armour protected him from much of the deadly energy. Tulgar continued to assault Fianche with a flurry of attacks, but again failed to penetrate the shining red plates adorned with divine golden runes. Nomin pulled his horse around for a second pass against Fianche, and made another unstoppable charge, this time missing. Grim pulled himself to his feet and cast Duel Ward upon himself in preparation for the next magical onslaught. Just as he predicted Blastum had begun to cast again. This time however, the intricacy of Blastum’s incantation was too complicated to even counter. His hands writhed and shook with the speed of a possessed conductor of destruction. After his epic incantation, Grim felt the Weave cry in pain as it began to tear. Through a portal of time space appeared a second Blastum, who was already about to finish a second evocation.

Fianche turned to face the two icy warriors of the north that stood before him. His eyes darkened to the blackness of an endless void, and Tulgar began to shake as he felt every part of him collapsing in at once. Tulgar resisted with all his might, and weaved around to leave the Red Knight’s immediate field of vision. As Tulgar turned the Red Dragon continued its blood-letting attacks into the barbarian’s flesh, exacting an incredible amount of blood with each strike. Anthony Manton did not hesitate to rejuvenate the group with a burst of healing energy.

Cael maneuvered himself as best he could around Fianche and took the full offensive Raumathari battle-mage stance against the twin pyromaniac evokers. He chose his target, the first Bladeweaver, and felt a surge of power unlike any he had felt before as he leveled Calinus Brumalis’ icy edge into the fire mage. Julian watched with dismay as he knew Cael had chosen the incorrect form. Already, as the first Blastum reeled downward his half-frozen form was being sewn back into the Weave. Julian called out a Wish that Cael’s misfortune of choice was reversed, and the Weave responded to recall his strike. Cael landed the correct hit and Blastum fell back; the frost sizzled off his pale skin.

Bladeweaver’s eyes darted chaotically as he stumbled from his knees to meet Cael. The fire mage laughed hysterically; his writhing hands then burst into white hot cones of fire. The party looked on with horror as he immolated Cael’s form with fire so intense it seemed to have sprung from Brass City itself. Julian sprung to action and a second time reverse Cael’s unfortunate fate, stopping his soul from separating from his badly charred flesh. Cael’s charcoal covered armour was quickly restored to a freezing glow by the Frost King’s crown.

Meanwhile, Nomin had made a second roundabout and made his third unstoppable charge into the battlefield landing a lance into Fianche’s cuirass. Tulgar, badly wounded from the fierce dragons bloody claws, Dimension Doored away and landed a number of attacks into Fianche’s back; bloody snow burst from the Red Knight’s armour. That very moment a divine flash burst from Fianche’s form consuming him in red energy. Grim realized first that he was healed by a number of Contingent spells. Fianche retreated a few steps away from the flank realizing that further strikes wound be fatal. Both Bladeweaver and his called future self were still absent as the Weave attempted to repair itself. The extreme force which both Bladeweaver and Fianche pulled upon the Weave disturbed Grim greatly.

With Tulgar out of immediate reach, the Red Dragon pounced upon Anthony Manton, eviscerating him with its vorpal-like claws. Anthony Manton raised his shield against the scaly beast and cast Mass Heal to rejuvenate the party once again. Running low on spells and weary to draw from the seemingly fragile Weave, Grim casted Mordkainen’s Lucribration to restore his spell power.

Cael meanwhile, had risen to one knee and began channeling his bitter cold spell power into Calinus Brumalis. The arcane runes glowed with icy blue light as he completed his casting. After testing the hands of time twice already, Julian’s head was spinning. He fell to one knee in an attempt to gain composure unaware of the surrounding battle. Tulgar and Nomin continued to focus their attacks upon the Flankmaster as he shifted toward the tearing Weave around Bladeweaver’s return for assistance.

Bladeweaver had now returned. Grim recognized Blastum’s next incantation as the invincible aura Time Buttress. Fianche disappeared for a brief second after casting a spell which Julian and Grim recognize as Time Stop. The next Fianche re-appeared starting again with a blast of divine power which surged into Tulgar like a hungry dog from a broken leash. Tulgar again felt the power of death wash over him, but rather than submit he let out a stentorian roar and charged toward the Red Knight. The Red Dragon continued its blood-splattering flurry of attacks into Anthony Manton dealing a near lethal blow. Rather than back down, Anthony set his shield against the rakish attacker and raised his gauntlet into silhouette with the morning sun. The Blade of Cosmas erupted from fist sending golden white light to wash over the raging red serpent. Anthony called out the holy word of Tyr as he smote the creature with a divinely inspired blast of positive energy.

With Blastum still invulnerable to all attacks, Nomin, Tulgar, and Cael closed in on Fianche now more eager than ever to finish him. Fianche took a number of palpable hits and bled continuously from his dented and scored red armour. In the midst of the combat, Blastum and Isidar turned back to back and began the incantation of their most powerful spell yet. Grim had seen this one before; the same one which had destroyed the remaining Corp of Obold’s orcs at the first Battle of Arabel. Before Grim or Julian could intervene, the spell went off sending the Weave into a screaming torrent of raw fibers which burst into the material plane as explosions of arcane fire. In the wake of the blast the two epic casters had pulled the remaining Weave around them in a glowing red abjurative aura.

The party was again thrown to all corners of the badland outside Arabel’s northern gate. The fiery explosion had cratered the area for hundreds of feet in every direction and nearly shook the weakened northern wall to pieces. Anthony Manton rose from the burning embers of the explosion’s wake and cast another burst of positive energy to Heal the party nearby. Julian somehow had managed to remain unscathed from the great blast. A curious testament to Lady Luck’s off fascination with the spell-thief.

Grim could barely stand. His knees shook as he arose from both physical exhaustion and the mental agony of seeing the Weave be nearly torn apart by his irreverent enemies. As Grim pulled himself together he felt his arcane hand born of the very Weave itself, a gift from lady Mystra, flickering to remain present. This was now not just simply a fight of survival, not a fight for the preservation of the Crown of Cormyr, it was a religious battle to protect the Weave itself against those which would rape and destroy it in their own zealous search for unlimited power. Grim invoked his most powerful spell, Mordenkainen’s Disjunction, and shaped it around his two epic enemies.

The Disjunction cleanly sliced through the Weave around Bladeweaver and Fianche threatening to annihilate every magical connection to the Weave they possessed and thus end their powerful force upon it. As the fibers were surgically sliced nearly instantaneously, all but Bladeweaver and Fianche’s most powerful connections were severed. However, in the process, the Disjunction took one powerful connection with it, Insanity’s Last Defense, Blastum’s artifact spell dagger. The instant the artifact’s connection was severed the incredible magical energy normally pouring into the dagger burst into the material plane like blood from a great artery. The arcane blast erupted outward even more deadly and powerful than the explosion created by Blastum before. The sonic boom dropped the battling armies within Arabel to the ground, and in its wake all but Bladeweaver remained. Grim had not seen the forces which impacted into Blastum during the explosion, but could only imagine the Wizard to be dead.

After the explosion, the party stumbled again to their feet and looked upon the cratered battlefield for signs of Bladeweaver and Fianche. The Red Knight remained, but what was even more pressing was the new weight of their equipment, and mundane weapons. Grim looked down to his hand and found it gone. He realized at once that had had created a dead magic zone from the artifact’s destruction. Far away from him to the south towards Arabel he thought he could make out what was the shimmer of the Weave. While it was ripped and torn before, now it was gone. Every fiber had been burned itself out in the magical explosion. Grim’s soul wept with grief.

Fianche knew at once he had been defeated, and did not hesitate to run to the north toward his awaiting army. Nomin and Tulgar chased him down and reached him just outside the dead magic zone where the shimmering Weave fibers reached out and flowed into their magical items. The rest of the party followed suit and found Fianche battling Nomin and Tulgar in a fierce melee. Fianche realized this could no longer continue and used a Word of Recall. However, Grim stricken by the dead magic zone, reacted with fury and Wished that he could counterspell the attempt. Fianche’s spell died out as Grim felt a second toll upon his heart. Then with the stern face of a prepared tactician, Fianche repeated the commands and escaped in a flash of red light.