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.

The Call of War

Session 143

Characters: Nomin, Tulgar, Anthony, Balin, Samael, Randal, Julian

NPCs: Kynwras Firsul the Watcher of Suzail, Princess Alusair Obarskyr the Steel Regent, Baron Thomdor, Warden of the Eastern Marches, Oversword Dutharr: the sheriff of Arabel, Duke Bhereu Obarskyr, Caladnei the Royal Magician of Cormyr, Lord Winter of Eveningstar, Tsharlura Blackshorne of Eveningstar, Constal Faril Laheralson of Thunderstone, Lord Thond the Mad, Constal Amsden Culver, Lord Partic Thistle the Registrant General of Cormyr, Father Akkul (Ilmater), Daneus Bloodgrace, Father Peter (Tyr), Lionar Dakulbel, Oversword Giorgi Wyvernspur.

L 17 Mirtul 1374 – E 19 Mirtul 1374

4000 XP

Back in Suzail the news of High Horn Keep falling to the orcs ravaged through the Royal Court sending the previously awe-shocked crowd back into commotion. Aluzair screamed for order, but the parliamentarians had already begun to disassemble. Minutes later, the Parliamentarian nobles were riding away from Suzail in their war caravans toward the relative safety of Marsember. The remaining Royalist nobles retreated to the bustling War Room to update their battle plans appropriately. The party was urged to attend.

With the Parliamentarians heading out, the Royalists moving down into the lower levels of Castle Obarskyr, and the news of a large orc Corp now stationed at High Horn; the party began to discuss their next moves. Nearly all of them clamored inside with anticipation to descend furiously upon the amassed orcish force and lay it to waste with their epic spell power. They however, also realized that it had been since the 16th of Mirtul that they had slept, they had run low on spells since then, and were exhausted. Even with their low resources the party figured they could deal a devastating blow to Obold. This was until the realization that they had not seen the Eye Rippers since the Battle of Arabel, when they had been struck by surprise by the waiting epic orcs. Shuttering at the thought of another Arabel incident, the party reluctantly turned towards the War Room to at least see of what use they could be there.

Gathered in a great dark hall, beneath the gilded halls of Obarskyr Castle, were a number of familiar Cormyrian military commanders. Kynwras Firsul, Alusair Obarskyr, Baron Thomdor, Oversword Dutharr the sheriff of Arabel, Lady Lord Myrmeen Lhal of Arabel, Lord Winter of Eveningstar, War Wizard Tsharlura Blackshorne, Faril Laheralson of Thunderstone, Lord Partic Thistle the Registrant General of Cormyr, Duke Bhereu Obarskyr, Lord Thond the Mad, and a host of other military leaders were gathered. As the party entered all those in attendance paused briefly, acknowledging their presence, before returning immediately to their conversations around the Grand War Table.

The party focused intently as they had finally made their way to the edge of a great table with a modeled scale replica of Cormyr. Magical overlays hovered over the wood carved structures with detailed information. A number of low ranking officers were busy moving orc units across the Storm Horn Mountains, updating Obold’s most recent move. Heavy smoke billowed from the general’s pipes and cigars and became multicolored emulsions as they drifted over the war table. Duke Bhereu Obarskyr puffed away at his pipe as he led the discussion. Obold had moved his orcish forces over the Storm Horn Mountains, crushing High Horn Keep, and butchering countless mountain villages including Hornshield and Skull Crag as he advanced. His armies were now standing on the foothills of the Storm Horns ready to advance again into the King’s Forest and across the western plain into Suzail.

Lord Winter of Eveningstar made it known that he had already begun evacuating his city towards Dhedluk to the south since Arabel was still surrounded by the Red Raven army. War Wizard Tsharlura Blackshorne of Eveningstar also made it clear that they should likewise evacuate the foothill towns of Minroe, Espar, and Tyrluk toward Dhedluk as well. There they could organize a much larger collective resistance and use the protection of the King’s Forest to their advantage. Other military advisors present argued to collect at Dhedluk was foolish because with Lord Woodbrand assassinated; Dhedluk was still without an adequate leader.

The question of then whether to also evacuate Waymoot and Gray Oak within the King’s Forest was also raised. Should they be sent to Dhedluk as well or to Suzail being that they were further south and could most likely make it before Obold inevitably arrived at Suzail. Dhedluk would need all the military help it could get however, and the extra soldiers from the south and eastern King’s Forest towns was vital to its success. Still, others in the room thought that to make a stand a Dhedluk first would be suicide. Why not continue to pull back and make one great stand at Suzail?

The parliamentarians had already evacuated the town of Stag’s Stead within the King’s Forest to Immersea, the western-most parliamentarian holding. It was now clear that the parliamentarians planned to sack Arabel quickly, reinforce it before Obold’s armies arrived, and battle back the orcs to the north with reinforcements from Castle Crag, Hullmarch, Bospir, and Yeoman Bridge. To the west it seemed the parliamentarians planned to pull back their towns to Immersea and make a stand there. Finally, to the south, the Parliamentarians were busy reinforcing Marsember, just some 150 miles east of Suzail. This would give the parliamentarians a clean battle front against the orcs stretching from Arabel, through Immersea, and down into Marsember.

There was but one catch however; they must take Calantar Keep. Without it, they would be unable to reinforce Marsember from the north as the Hermit’s Wood swamp would block all attempts from the eastern holdings. Anthony Manton smiled, it was clear why Oversword Wyvernspur was so intent now on capturing Calantar Keep. Even with the hopes of holding Calantar Keep from the Parliamentarians, it was clear that Obold would first ravage through the Royalist holdings to the west. The royalists would have to first fight off preemptive parliamentarian attacks to capture key holdings. Then they would need to deal with Obold’s 6 Corp of orcs and monstrous creatures which were estimated to be nearly half a million soldiers strong. Finally, if any of them were left, they would need to once again outlast the Parliamentarian counterattack to recapture the western lands.

With the Cormyrian military divided in half, the royalists were outnumbered at roughly 100:1 by Obold’s forces. Even with the greatest tactics, courage, and luck it seemed nearly impossible to win this fight. Nomin, who had just hours earlier killed James Cormaeril upon the Court floor, realized how important a union would be. The party listened intently, unfazed by the waning hopes of victory, thinking of the many devoted followers whom had sworn service to them through their epic travels across Ferun.

Before they could speak however, Lord Partic Thistle the Registrant General of Cormyr rose and asked the room that the Heroes of the Forgotten Forest be given honorary commissions as officers in the Purple Dragon army for the upcoming battle. Despite their reflexive thoughts that Lord Thistle would be battered down by a host of traditionalist generals, the room warmly welcomed the request. One by one, each member of the party was commissioned as Lionars in a brief ceremony by Lord Thistle and Duke Bhereu. After their commission the party addressed those in attendance, swearing their loyalty to the crown once again and stating their current plans to assist in the fight.

Tulgar stated that his Black Ravens, and Gray wolves would make haste for the King’s Forest, assist in the evacuations, and engage in guerilla strikes against the orcs as they marched through the King’s Forest. He also planned to bring the Uthgart Tree Ghost tribesmen of the Hullack Forest to their aid. Anthony Manton announced his plan to defend Calantar Keep with the Knights of the Cleansing Flame. In addition, he would pray to Tyr and ask assistance from the Fortress of the Faithful. Balin quietly let it be know that he had already been working for days on and off; awakening the great Tree Spirits of the King’s Forest. Samael promised he would return to the High Forest, and speak with the elders there whom had already been victorious in shunting Obold’s army away and to the south. He would ask for additional allied troops from the North to descend upon Obold’s army. Randal announced that he would bring all of the available acolyte monks and clerics of the Ilmaterian faith whom had been building and training at his Mountain Monastary in Tethyr. He would also pray to Ilmater to alleviate the suffering from the royalist defenders in the upcoming war.


The Duke of the Eastern Marches then turned the floor over to Constal Amsden Culver, the current leader of the Royalist Navy since the departure of Hector Dauntinghorn and Admiril Ayesunder Truesilver. Constal Amsden Culver spoke gravely of the situation currently underway in the Lake of Dragons. Admiril Truesilver was sending nearly the entire parliamentarian fleet, some 20 ships strong, toward Suzail from Marsember. Included in the attacking force were a number of notable vessels: The Sea Snake, Thomdor’s Fist, and Ansiber’s Wrath.

The Sea Snake and Thomdor’s Fist were two large, well-armed war caravels; and Ansiber’s Wrath the most feared ship in the Sea of Fallen Stars, even among pirates. Large and fast, Ansiber’s Wrath was known for its great ramming capability and has capsized quite a number of ships. In Suzail’s defence were a total of 10 ships including Constal Culver’s own, The Dragon: the largest and most sophisticated vessel and flagship of the royalist fleet. In addition, the royalists had The Blade of Espar, and the Lance of Wheloon, two small but fast anti-pirating ships.

Nomin suggested chaining off the waters such that even in the event of a complete victory the Parliamentarians would be unable to dock at Suzail. Constal Culver was unable to reassure the other military leaders of Truesilver’s threat that he would lay the guns of his fleet against Suzail and lay it to waste. Just as the naval efforts seemed not worth their time in planning Lord Thond the Mad spoke up from a corner of the room, the heavy smoke obscuring the detail in his figure. “But what of Galaghard’s Harpoon?” he exclaimed, sending a splash of red wine into a lieutenant’s coat. There was a pause in the war room for seconds as those in attendance realized the ridiculousness of his recent outburst. For the others such as the party, Constal Culver responded by stating the history of the Harpoon.

Galaghard’s Harpoon is a 100 year old Cormyrian corvette currently stationed in Suzail’s illustrious Museum of History. Originally commissioned by King Galaghard III Obarskyr for the Cormyian navy in 1232 DR., it was specifically designed to run down the fastest pirate ship in the Sea of Shining Stars, the Devil’s Cutlass; captained by none other than the feared pirate lord Marco Quintero. While its first captain never had luck capturing the Devil’s Cutlass, Galaghard’s Harpoon did manage to run down a record 11 pirate ships in its life, and still holds the record for the fastest run between Suzail and Marsember. Currently however, Galaghard’s Harpoon is more museum piece than warship. Its boards are dusty and splintered, the mast saggy, and the cannons rusted.

At that point a second not so loony member of the navy stated “But it still remains the best chance we have of fielding another ship on the Dragon Lake. If Galaghard’s Harpoon can draw fire and survive it will lessen the firepower the Parliamentarians can muster against the royalist’s other ships.” Constal Culver agreed to the wine stained lieutenant stating however that the captain and crew of such a ship would have to be more psychotic as Lord Thond himself. Julian rose as if Tymora’s hand had just swept him from his seat. “I am that mad man sir!” The room shifted about to the wily rouge whom was now standing with one foot upon the war table. “Very well then Lionar Bailer, you shall captain the Harpoon. Given of course that you can get her sea–worthy within the day” responded Constal Culver with a smirk.

Julian bolted out of the room as if shot from a cannon and headed off towards the Museum of Suzail. He arrived to find the Museum closed and locked until the recent turmoil had resolved. Julian barged in through the great door and made his way to the Galaghard’s Harpoon. It stood strong and tall, the center piece of Cormyr’s naval history section, but before Julian examined it he smashed open the glass case containing the original captain’s uniform, donned the dusty purple cap and coat and flew up to the deck. As he set the first of his weight down into the deck an ancient wood board below him shattered. Every inch of the ship was dust bitten, its cannons sealed, and the wood weak and cracked. Purple Dragon Knights rushed into the naval history room where Julian now sat as alarms from all over the Museum were still going off. Julian however announced his presence boldy and displayed his new Lionar badge. The Purple Dragon Knights stood down recognizing the adventurer. Julian then ordered them to find the finest wood, cloth, steel, and other building provisions at once. As the Purple Dragons ran off Julian drew his Liar of Building.

Back at the War Room, the tactical meetings were drawing to a close. Baron Thomdor, Oversword Dutharr and Lord Myrmeen Lhal Teleported back to Arabel to ready the city against an almost certain Parliamentarian strike. Lionar Nomin Ohtar was offered the command of the Calvary of Suzail, roughly 300 highly trained and well-equipped heavy horsemen. Nomin gladly accepted the commission and went off at once to visit them as they arose for morning formations in Suzail Arena. As Nomin arrived he found that the Arena had been turned into a practice ground for large-scale military operations: shield walls, counter-charged, archer formations, cavalry charges, and many other operations were being practiced around the clock. Nomin watched with approval as his horsemen went through their daily maneuvers.

Tulgar left the War Room as well and with the assistance of a War Wizard was Teleported to the Hullack Forest; he intended to meet again with the Tree Ghost Uthgart barbarians as win their help in the upcoming fight. Far from the early down light above, Tulgar appeared underneath the boggy dark tree-line of the Hullack Forest. He then met with the Ghostfather Tree, a petrified hollow infested with the stirring pale spirits of hundreds of owls. It was clear the Ghostfather tree wished that the Hullack Forest be extended back north to reconnect with the King’s Wood. He wished the destruction of the towns of Nesmyth and Gladehap which the tribe frequently raided.

While the Ghostfather tree questioned Tulgar’s loyalty to the Crown of Cormyr, he could not doubt Tulgar’s favor within the eyes of Tempest. He was truly the greatest Uthgart warrior there had been in ages. Tulgar swore that he would make the Tree Ghosts strong again, and with that the Ghostfather Tree reached out a spirit arm into Tulgar’s soul. For a second Tulgar felt his connection to the living plane slip as if he would die. But he held on and pulled strongly back with the spirit of Gar helping him and pulled the Ghostfather Tree Spirit inside of him. The owls stormed about within the hollows of the tree and then were finally released. The pale petrified wood of many ages lost its dull glow as the Ghostfather’s energy was now one with Tulgar. The Treeghost tribe was now his command.

Tulgar ordered them at once to make their way to the King’s Forest at help in the defense of Dhedluk, there were too many orcs to kill to waste but a seconds time more here in Hullack. The Tree Ghost Tribesmen were unique in that they were more than just fierce barbarians contained for too long within a forest turned swamp; they were spellcasters. The Tree Ghosts though brute, were far wiser and patient than their Uthgart brethren. Their spellpower would be much needed and quite well-suited for the upcoming King’s Forest battle. Tulgar felt the voices of Gar his Sky Pony ancestor, Ratharg the Werewolf Chieftain, Grezalgog the Black, and the Ghostfather Tree swarming within his mind as he returned to the gardens of Suzail. The War Wizard whom had come with him noticed a change in Tulgar’s skin as it had hardened and become tinted with a pale-gray hue; but he did not speak of it.

As the meeting adjourned, Balin returned to the King’s Forest and resumed The Awakening. Obold had what he thought was a nearly endless tide of orcs, and many powerful magicians to protect them. Balin remembered back to his many years within the High Forest and knew why Obold had not made any fierce attempts to destroy it before descending upon Cormyr. In times of great trouble, the elders would Awaken the forest, and aside from dealing with the many elven defenders, the attackers would find themselves battling the forest itself. Balin intended on making this a fight Obold would have never expected the Cormyrians could muster.

Samael chose to return to the High Forest to ask his noble family if there was any assistance the elves could give to Cormyr. With the help of a War Wizard, Samael was back in the High Forest under the great Moonbark treeline. He was warmly welcomed into the house of his youth and after much catching-up wit his family and elders he spoke of Cormyr’s need. The High Elves, whom had dealt with Obold already and considered themselves lucky not to have been tested by the full might of Obold Manyarrows, agreed to give Samael assistance. He had returned a powerful swordsman, with many epic deeds in his name already. Furthermore, the High Elves realized the importance of defeating Obold early before he could settle the southern lands and launch attacks north and west. Samael’s family commissioned him with their House Wing Fleet, a large group of highly skilled hippogriff riders (mages and bowmen). Further, they promised Samael they would relay the message to the Elven Court with the possibility of even larger forces from the north at a later date. Samael returned to Cormyr later that night with the help of the War Wizard.

Randal left the War Room and made his way to the temple of Ilmater in Suzail just outside the Garden District. His body ached with the pain of his recent battles and lack of sleep. More however, was the ache in his soul from having been away from formal prayer for that period. He rested his bruised knees upon the stone altar of Ilmater and prayed. During his ritual cleansing he prayed that Ilmater assist the people of Cormyr during this time of strife. Further, he asked for strength, and assistance from the heavens in the Great War ahead. Some time during his prayers the exhaustion overtook Randal and he lost consciousness.

When Randal woke up he was attended to by the gracious servants of the temple. Randal spoke with the head priest of Ilmater whom opened a divine communication with the Fortress of the Faithful on his behalf. Randal spoke with Father Akkul of the Fortress whom promised he would do all he could in contacting the Heavens for assistance. Finally, Randal spoke with his loyal cohort Daneus Bloodgrace whom began to immediately ready his acolytes for war. Later that evening Bloodgrace opened a Gate into the Cormyr according to Randal’s request and led many of the newly trained monks and clerics through.

Anthony Manton also contacted the Fortress of the Faithful, speaking to Father Peter of Tyr whom promised he would also do his best in contacting the Heavens on Anthony’s behalf. After much prayer at the Academy of the Consecrated Sword, where Anthony first learned the holy word, he returned with a newfound vigor to Calantar Keep. Lionar Dakulbel updated Constol Manton on the situation regarding Wyvernspur’s northern Parliamentarian army. Wyvernspur’s force had remained north, however it was far from idle. In the meantime, they had begun logging operations in the King’s Forest just 1 mile west. They were using the lumber to build great siege engines, and reinforce their position to the south, west, and north in the event the orcs broke through the King’s Forest before they could overtake Calantar Keep. Oversword Wyvernspur was a crafty seigemaster and had proved it yet again by creating a fortress all his own from the nearby landscape. Many of the siege weapons were now aimed directly at Calantar Keep. Lionar Dakulbel dryly joked that with one snap of his finger, Wyvernspur could topple Calantar Keep.

During their conversation, the two commanders noticed a familiar figure appear on the northern shore of the Wyvernwater River, Nomin Ohtar. Mounted on his epic horse, Nomin galloped toward Wyvernspur’s battlements unarmed and flying the heraldry of a diplomat. Anthony blinked down in an instant to investigate this unusual circumstance and after speaking with Nomin about his plans to befriend Wyvernspur and unite Cormyr in the face of the orcish onslaught; Anthony decided to also attend. The two were met by a number of well-armed Red Dragon Knights whom didn’t find any humor in Nomin’s attempts at diplomacy. Nonetheless, Nomin was allowed a council with Oversword Wyvernspur and the two made their way into the well-organized encampment.

They entered into Wyvernspur’s noble war tent finding him partaking in a large lunch of mutton, puddings and some of Cormyr’s famous black bottom ale. Nomin cut through the pleasantries and asked bluntly that Oversword Wyvernspur re-assess his desires for separation from the Crown. He stated that divided Cormyr would certainly be crushed; first the royalists, and then inevitably the parliamentarians. They could only succeed if united against the common foe.

Wyvernspur explained that he did not at all take pleasure in the thought of killing fellow Cormyrians with the orcs so close. However, it had been too long a time with a corrupt royalist lineage controlling the country. He asked that the royalists evacuate their citizens east of the river and make a stand with them under the Parliamentarian flags at Immersea. After much debate it was clear that Wyvernspur would not back down from his challenge. Nomin boiled with anger, but contained himself as he stormed out of the tent and rode away toward Calantar Keep. Later that day Nomin and Anthony would Teleport back to Suzail to seek shelter and sleep in Lord Thond’s dusty mansion.

The rest of the party also gradually returned to Lord Thond’s manor as the 3rd moon began to rise since they had last slept. They slept deeply, collapsed upon the white canvas sheets covering Thond’s old furniture. At midnight none of the party awoke to the calamity of ringing bells as Lord Thond’s large collection of grandfather clocks went off in unison. The next morning of the 18th, the party gradually awoke and took breakfast before returning to the War Room to update the generals as to the additional assistance they had all found. Unfortunately, when they arrived, the party found the War Room in a new state of panic. A lieutenant informed the party that the Parliamentarian force led by Roseanna Rosehelm, Blastum Bladeweaver, and Isidar Fianche had assaulted Arabel.

Highhorn's Last Stand

Session 142

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

NPCs: Kynwras Firsul the Watcher of Suzail, Princess Alusair Obarskyr the Steel Regent, Alaphondar the Sage of Cormyr, Queen Filfaeril, Princess Tanalasta Obarskyr, King Azoun V Obarskyr, Baron Thomdor, Warden of the Eastern Marches, Duke Bhereu Obarskyr, Lord Kimba Crownsilver, Lord Gruen Bleth, Alaphondar’s son Lord Dier Emmarsk, Shael Rowanmantle, Caladnei the Royal Magician of Cormyr, Mendryll Belarod the Herald of Suzail, Lord James Cormaeril, Lamiril Cormaeril, Lord Narlan Silversword, Lady Silversword, Lord Fletcher Hawksongs, Lord Samtavan Sudacar of Immersea, Lord Sarp Redbeard of Wheloon, Royal Paige, Oversword Thursk Dembarron the Lord Commander of High Horn, Dhag Greybeard the Herald of High Horn, 100 Cormyrian archers, 300 Cormyrian blades, 10 Warwizards, 2 Mountain Giants, 1 Corp of Obold Manyarrows' Army (~75,000 orcs).

M 17 Mirtul 1374 – L 17 Mirtul 1374

5820 XP

Once the party had gathered again in the halls of Elfhold they discussed what to do with the remains of Avazgourl the Gold Dragon. Anthony Manton and Nomin lead a brief ceremony to bless the noble guardian. Thereafter, Grim disintegrated the corpse so that it should never be raised again as a weapon of the Cult of the Dragon. Grim could feel that the Weave within Elfhold had been warped once again by the terrible act. This foul act however, had twisted the Weave in a different and but more familiar way. Anthony knew they must consecrate the grounds once again, but it would take a day they did not have.

Julian and Terus’ attentions returned to why they had re-visited Elfhold, to speak with Avazgourl and ask that he grant them entrance to the ancient library of the Amartharr Elves so that they could learn more about their true enemy, Gorut. With Avazgourl now dead, they asked that Grim commune with the artificial consciousness of the Twin Sorceresses so that perhaps they could lead them to their answer. Grim attempted to re-connect with the Mythal once again but found its consciousness dormant once more due to its defiled state. Nomin became frustrated and began to search across the great marble floor of Elfhold to find a secrete entrance into the temple’s inner halls. The vast space needed to search however, would again threaten their short time.

In just 1 hour Anthony estimated the Royal court would meet with the Parliament to decide the future of Cormyr’s impending civil war. They party agreed to return to the Gardens of Suzail, but did not want to leave Elfhold in its current state without its former guardians intact. Balin informed the party that the Knightswood Nine had agreed to watch over the flooded grounds of Myth Tarna in their absence, and would contact them if any threats were seen. With that, Terus Teleported the party to the luscious Gardens of Suzail, which were filling with nobles and court guardsmen.

Unlike the normal Court sessions which were often more royal carnival than diplomatic event; this meeting was ungarnished, and Spartan-like. The usual assortment of exotic animals, extravagant food, and half-drunk fops had been replaced with stern noble faces, battle-ready guardsmen and great caravans being filled as the last of the parliamentarian nobles emptied their mansions heading for Marsember. Nomin activated his Rod of Splendor giving himself a keen purple colored noble’s garb as he entered the Gardens. The rest of the party followed suit, except for Julian whom expended a charge of his Greater Rod of Wonder adorning himself with sapphire encrusted moonspider silk pantaloons, a rare three-headed winter wolf pelt cloak, and a number of rings, bracers, and necklaces which would make even the Prince of Sembia jealous.

The party was greeted by Kynwras Firsul the Watcher of Suzail, Alusair Obarskyr, and of course Alaphondar before they were escorted to the balcony of the King’s Court. The very same place Nomin had been re-honored as a Cormyrian subject, and where the party had made a number of rousing speeches to stir faith in the Royal cause. The party hoped this evening would be as favorable.

Court was struck into order as Alusair Obasrkyr began with the usual bureaucratic introductions and motions whose irony settled upon the courtroom of guarded faces absent of humor. Of note in attendance was the Royal family Queen Filfaeril, Tanalasta Obarskyr, Alusair Obarskyr, and the young King Azoun V Obarskyr. Seated next to the Obarskyrs was Kynwras Firsul, whom watched over those seated in attendance with piercing wizardly eyes. A handful of High Knight Purple Dragons, and Warwizards stood about the room as well.

The nature of this occasion in the King’s Court resulted in a previously unseen event. The parliamentarian and royalist leaders had all abandoned their rightful chairs amongst the Court’s floor and instead sat on opposite sides of the room; red on the left, purple on the right. Powerful Royalist nobles present included Baron Thomdor, Warden of the Eastern Marches, Duke Bhereu Obarskyr, Lord Kimba Crownsilver, Lord Gruen Bleth, Alaphondar’s son Lord Dier Emmarsk, Shael Rowanmantle, Caladnei the Royal Magician of Cormyr, and Mendryll Belarod the Herald of Suzail.

Lord James Crownsilver, the fiery figurehead of the Parliamentarian movement had ensured however, that they also come with a powerful showing of noble houses. Wearing crimson suits and seated to the left of the auditorium were a number of powerful nobles including: Lord James Cormaeril, Lamiril Cormaeril, Lord Narlan Silversword, Lady Silversword, Lord Fletcher Hawksongs, Lord Samtavan Sudacar, and the bold Lord Sarp Redbeard of Wheloon.

After Alusair had forced up the last obligatory opening statements in her quivering voice, the floor was opened to the nobles for discussion. A long dragon-shedding silence followed as no noble would dare state the first obvious remark. The brash Lord Sarp Redbeard rose from his seat, glaring across the courtroom, and spoke the first word on everyone’s mind, War. After a brief, controversial speech, the floor exploded into a shouting match unlike anything which had occurred in the King’s Court before. The party listened, at times nearly clawing at themselves to hold their tongues; the hours dragged on.

Finally, there reached a point where each noble had stated his/her opinions into the thick futile air of the King’s Courtroom. With a majority of the nobles nearly about to walk out, James Cormaeril finally rose to speak.

He stated that the Parliament now controlled the majority of the Cormyrian lands east of the Starwater River, Marsember, Thunderstone, Wheloon, Castle Crag, and soon to be Arabel, and Calantar Keep. Obold’s endless black tide of orcs however, was positioned just north and west of the Stormhorn Mountains to the west threatening nearly all of the royalist landholdings. He stated that if Cormyr could not root out its corruption from within, then the enemies of Cormyr would have to purge it out through the destruction of the western lands of Cormyr. He continued saying that after Obold was through slaughtering the royalist armies, the Parliamentarian armies of the East would ride across the Starwater river with the Red Raven Mercenary army, and Sembian allies and defeat Obold’s scattered celebrating forces.

The Lords of the Kings Court held their tongues as James Cormaeril continued. But then he became too bold and casted a number of sleights into the Royal Court for their obvious incompetency, stubbornness, and most of all, for being led by a coven of housemaids and an infant (Queen Filfaeril, Princess Tanalasta, Princess Alusair). Nomin Ohtar rose to his feet as Lord Cormaeril’s words had set him on fire, this was enough. Nomin stormed down to the main level of the King’s Court with visions of his former lover laying dead in his hands; the work of Francis Cormaeril just 3 years ago. Although he had been hastily reinstated by Alusair in the King’s Courtroom just over a week prior; Nomin’s desire for revenge still burned in his heart.

Nomin approached James Cormaeril and challenged the Lord to a duel to hold him accountable for his words against Cormyr’s nobility and defend the crown’s honor. James Cormaeril, a former soldier himself, stood stiff at the challenge like hound to a hunter’s whistle. Both figures were physically equally well-matched, strong and tall; their blood boiling, their hands deathly still. James Cormaeril shouted to the court that he would silence the words of the Princess’s lapdog forever. Cormaeril continued by saying that Nomin would always die an exile after the false throne was unseated. The terms of the duel were then set as any duel to the death would be in the King’s Court. Two willing combatants, wearing only mundane clothing would each wield an identical blade, the Royal Obarskyr Vorpals.

Tables were drawn apart on the floor as Nomin and Lord Cormaeril armed themselves with the vorpal blades. The nobles in the court, Parliamentarian and Royalist alike, looked onward with excitement and horror as they all knew the same two things. First, at least one man would die. Second, regardless of the victor, it would be a brutally short duel. The two men took their stances, Alusair struck her mallet to begin, both men charged. Nomin swung first, striking too high, but slicing so fast it seemed the air was guiding his blade forward. Cormaeril glanced upward with excitement knowing that now Nomin’s life was held tightly in his grasp. Cormaeril cut four times, each one narrowly missing Nomin as he weaved through backward and sideways away from the soaring blade. It seemed as if the edge of Cormaeril’s sword was seeking his flesh closer with each stroke.

Nomin was now backed up against a large wooden table marking the edge of the combatant circle, but poised defensively for a courter-strike. He lounged forward, aiming to slash into Cormaeril’s chest, but the vorpal seemed to will itself upward and into his neck. Seconds later Cormaeril’s body crashed to the marble floor, his head rolling in the opposite direction. The courtroom stood in complete silence for what could have been minutes, with shock, elation, and dismay riding across the faces of the nobles present. Then, before an uproar of cheers could break out in Royalist nobles present in the court, a paige ran in from the west entrance.

The paige turned at first as if to leave, thinking he must have entered the wrong room by the lack of shouting. Then he simply stood idle in the same type of shock the rest of the Court hand been in, staring at James Cormaeril’s decapitated head on the bloody Court floor. The rest of the Court now had their eyes trained on the paige, and finally Lord Sarp Redbeard shouted out, “Well boy, out with it!” The paige sprung to life and stated “Sir, orcs have laid siege to Highhorn Castle.”

Hours earlier, 100 miles away from the well groomed Gardens of Suzail, High Horn Castle sat in the rocky crags of the Stormhorn Mountains surrounded on all sides by a Corp of Obold Manyarrow’s black army, 75,000 orcs strong. For those at High Horn is was not a matter of whether they would live; but simply how long it would be before the orcs could overwhelm the continuous hail of arrows, stones, and fire with sheer numbers. High Horn Castle’s pale gray windswept walls stood upon a nearly endless landscape of rocks, white topped mountain peaks, and black armored orcs. The monochrome colors of the landscape darkened as shadows grew all around the castle with the setting sun. The only color that could be seen for miles around were the purple flags flying in the mountain sky above High Horn’s castle walls.

High Horn Castle was originally ordered to be built by King Byntarth II Obarskyr some 300 years ago to be a bastion of military power positioned at the furthest point along Cormyr’s northwestern border. Currently, Oversword Thursk Dembarron the Lord Commander of High Horn, oversaw the defensive force of 100 well-trained archers, 300 blades, 10 Warwizards, and 4 trebuchet crews. Dhag Greybeard the Herald of High Horn, had seen this coming for more than a week. But with little help available from the already stretched thin Royalist army, there was nothing more they cold do. They did however, receive the aid of 5 Black Raven Barbarians whom had been following Obold’s force through the Storm Horn mountains for the past week. Each was a half-giant, wearing black leather armor, and rode Giant Black Ravens through the sky as if they had shared each other’s spirit. Oversword Thursk was normally not a man to take the help of barbarians, (whom normally gave the Purple Dragon Knights outright trouble), but these were desperate times and both forces now shared a common enemy.

The orc war drums which had been slowly beating for some time suddenly picked up a marching pace as the defenders of High Horn saw two companies of orcs advancing up the south and eastern trails; the battle had begun. The orcs moved slowly forward up the steep mountain passes pushing great siege towers, battering rams, and catapults as they went. Behind the orc company in the southern pass was a massive force of goblin worg riders. The company marching up the eastern trail was backed by a large unit of hobgoblin warriors.

Just as the archers along the eastern and southern walls unleashed their first volleys into the sky towards the advancing orcs, High Horn’s walls shook with the sound of crashing rocks as a boulder smashed through a section of the outer wall and destroyed a unit of 20 Cormyrian blades. Looking to the west and north there were now enemy units occupying two mountain tops whose peaks jutted within a few hundred feet of the peak High Horn had been built upon. Occupying the two sister peaks to the west and north were 2 units of Obold’s orc sorcerers, 3 units of orc archers, and a mountain giant. Before the War Wizards, Blades, and Archers could re-position themselves to fire upon these strategic points, the orc and giants let loose a series of boulders, fireballs, and arrow volleys into High Horn Castle killing 20 Archers, 20 more blades, and heavily wounding a number of War Wizards.

The remaining Cormyrian forces occupying the north and west walls attempted to return fire with arrows, and fireballs of their own, while the rest pulled themselves from the wreckage and fled down the battlements. The firepower from the north and west peaks was simply too much for the Cormyrian defenders to handle and the Lionar commanders chose to retreat toward the south and east portions of the castle. This way they could stay out of range of the boulders, fireballs, and arrows, and at the same time send their own artillery attacks into the vulnerable orcs advancing up the south and eastern trails. The archers and War Wizards along the southern and Eastern walls were exacting tremendous casualties on the orcs below, yet the black tide behind them seemed nearly endless.

The Black Raven Uthgart barbarians took to the skies armed with great canisters of explosive oil and began to make bombing runs along the southern pass. As the oil spread it ignited countless orcs, scorching them, and sending some to jump off the pass and fall 1000 feet rather than be burned alive on the trail ahead. Despite the fact they had killed hundreds of orcs already, Oversword Thursk knew that abandoning the north and western walls meant trouble later when they would attempt to fall back behind the inner wall. Without the human defenders in range now, the Mountain giants and orc sorcerers at the north and western peaks unleashed their attacks into the outer wall, southern gate, and portions of the inner wall to the west. Oversword Thursk cursed with dismay knowing that despite the fact they had destroyed many orc siege engines on the southern trail, the orcs would not need them to gain access through the damaged southern gate once it finally fell.

The Cormyrian forces continued to send volleys of arrows, fireballs, trebuchet blasts, and explosive canisters into the advancing orc forces. Hundreds more orcs would die in their attacks, but they simply continued to advance to the beat of the war drums beyond. The orcs piled up at the southern gate just as a massive boulder hurled from a mountain giant crashed into it, splintering it to pieces. The Cormyrian blades readied themselves to counter charge at the Lionar’s signal, and seconds later the orcs poured through. Despite their courageous attempts to hold the southern gate, the overwhelming orcish numbers began to take their toll upon the fatigued Cormyrian blades. A tactical fallback to the inner wall was ordered of all the outer ring troops including those still manning the battlements at the intact western gate. With the Cormyrian blades falling back, the orcs managed to make short work of the western gate and minutes later the entire outer ring belonged to Obold Manyarrows.

Unfortunately, the eastern gate of the inner wall had also been breached by the boulders and fireballs hurled from the northern peak. A second stand of blades was ordered to hold off the orcs as long as possible from this position as men from the inner wall’s battlements retreated toward High Horn Keep’s last stand, the ring wall. The Warwizards running low on spells had switched to the emergency scrolls they had written just for this purpose. Breaking the seal upon the first scroll meant almost certain death awaited. Obold’s orcs reorganized their ranks with surprising efficiency from within High Horn Keep’s outer and inner walls. The remaining Cormyrian force, some 200 men strong, held off the orcs for a couple more hours, as they dropped the last supplied of their burning oil, shot off their final quivers, and ran out of scrolls to cast. The Black Tide would breach High Horn’s walls, but not before its 420 defenders had killed an estimated 5280 of Obold’s soldiers.