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.
