(Because the DM is a slacker, the record of the past several months of game nights will be condensed into one entry.)
The party battled an orc warband in the ruins of the dwarven village. The combat raged through streets, alleyways, and buildings. During the course of the fight, the party discovered a warlock named Alexis, who allied with them. Her deadly invocations proved useful against the greater number of enemies they faced.
After defeating the warband, the party made their way to the entrance of the Malachite Fortress. A number of orcs stood guard here, backed by archers who commanded a view of the entire entryway. As the party attacked the guards, the archers rained volleys of arrows down upon them, causing much damage and confusion. After a long, grueling battle, the party was victorious, and they took a moment to think and lick their wounds.
The doorways to the mines, and the audience chamber was much as Stravo remembered. But there was a new tunnel available, once collapsed, now newly excavated. If the orcs had gone through all this trouble to clear out this passageway, the party reasoned, then surely they must be after something important? The party’s wizards conjured some light, and the adventurers carefully made their way into the depths of the fortress.
As the group made their way down the hallway, they encountered a disembodied voice, that mocked them and encouraged them to destroy their allies. In return, it promised them great power. The party noticed that their emotions had become heightened and amplified as well. They did their best to ignore it, though the voice did stir up feelings of doubt and confusion.
The once-collapsed tunnel eventually led to a massive cavern that held the dwarven undercity. A few sputtering torches lit what was once the main street, the points of light indicating the street continued for nearly half a mile. Some of the stone buildings were damaged and crumbling, and much of the wood they saw was rotting, but the rest of the buildings they saw looked intact.
The more alert party members could here whispered conversation coming from a nearby building. As they moved to investigate, the wall of the edifice exploded outward, and out rumbled what could only be described as a powerfully muscled, two-headed ogre. As it rushed to attack, it was joined by its orc allies, and the ambush was begun.
The party proved victorious in its combat, but the cost was great. Brathis had fallen, and the party made a quick exit to travel to Hawksbridge and restore their comrade to life. They made their way south and crossed the river. Coming into view of the village, they saw that the bridge had been destroyed, and signs of destruction marred both sides of the riverbank. The palisade surrounding Hawksbridge looked to have been scorched by fire, and the gates were closed. Much of the land surrounding the village had been either trampled or burned to the ground. Across the river, the many campfires from a makeshift encampment of orcs, minotaurs, and their brutish allies lit the evening sky.
The party moved to enter the city, the name Stravo still carrying enough influence to persuade the guards to let them in. After gaining entrance and making their way to Threecoins Chapel, they were dismayed to discover that Serida Bonhart had been killed. It seems she sacrificed herself during the orcs’ attack on the village, channeling enough energy to destroy the bridge and halt the assault.
The party still carried the favor of Barristan Hark, the town magistrate and a cleric of Bahamut. Indebted to the party for saving his life, he settles the debt by giving them a scroll imbued with the ritual to restore the recently dead to life. The party successfully resurrects Brathis, but also angers the Raven Queen, who sends a handful of wrathful shades to punish the party for stealing a soul back from the realms beyond. The party manages to defeat the attack, but it is clear that restoring the dead is no longer a safe, easy endeavor.
(More to come soon)