Session 23: What Dreams May Come

Game Date: 12/22/2007
In-Game Date: Godsday, Disander 12, midafternoon – Mansday, Disander 13, morning.
The week of Horfang.

Nialia tracks the trail of the grimlocks through the back alleys of the West Hill to a door leading down into a dark stairwell at the rear of an old stone building. Rowan, staring down into the inky darkness, remembers her father talking about fighting grimlocks once. During one battle, their sorcerer cast silence around the party, while the druid’s skunk animal companion kept spraying the area. It smelled horrible, but the grimlocks couldn’t smell or hear the party, and turned a hard fight into a one-sided slaughter. When Rowan informs the rest of the party of the grimlocks’ weaknesses, Audric gets an idea.
He dashes to the closest confectionary shop, to the great confusion of the following party. There he procures several flasks of pure peppermint oil with a smirk on his face. The smell taken care of, the party breaks out the skull charms taken from the orc tribe, and Nialia takes out the skull staff.
Thus prepared, the party returns to the stairs leading down beneath the streets. The stairs, however, are merely a way to travel under the wide street that separates the West Hill area from the Eastgate area. The trail continues to wind around in the back alleys, finally terminating at the rear of an abandoned warehouse.
The party enters the warehouse through the only available means: a single window that has been broken. They have activated the staff, so they make no sound. They enter to find an inky blackness that no light seems to penetrate. They can barely see each other, even standing inches away from each other. Even Grumble’s darkvision does not seem to help him. Listening hard, they can hear stealthy noises, as though several somethings were creeping towards them. Audric hurls his vial of peppermint oil to the ground, and the still warehouse air is quickly filled with overpowering odor. After some fumbling about (on the part of both friends and foes), the party literally runs into the grimlocks, who can neither see nor hear them. Unfortunately, the party can’t see the grimlocks in the magical darkness. Still, things definitely took a turn for the "oops" as Grumble yells, breaking the silence charm of the skull staff.
The grimlocks, now able to pinpoint their foes through keen hearing, attack at once. Audric casts a light spell, dispelling the magical darkness around them. But the grimlocks' sense of smell is still hampered by the peppermint oil; the fight is still very one-sided in the party's favor. The grimlock female leader turns invisible and attempts a death attack on Grumble, but the hardy dwarf shakes off the effect. The party quickly surrounds her and cuts her down, with Audric stabilizing her before she dies.
They question her, and it turns out that she led her tribe into the city under orders. She was to kill and cause havoc in the city. She was ordered by someone who spoke in her dreams. Someone even a grimlock feared greatly. There was another, she said, who gave her orders. This was a human female who smelled like paper.
When she runs out of answers for the party, they finish her cleanly. On her corpse is a veritable alchemist shop of poisons, and Grumble is very happy that she didn’t have time to apply them all to her blade. All abou them are corpses of abducted citizens, most of which have been partially or completely devoured. There must be nearly thirty bodies in this lair/ larder. Suddenly even Nialia's sensitive nose is extremely grateful for the overwhelming aroma of peppermint.
Returning to the scene of the first grimlock attack, the party meets the city guards and direct them to the warehouse. The party overhears citizens wondering why someone named Alaine wasn’t here to prevent this, or at least aid in the killing of the grimlocks.
Questioning a nearby onlooker, they learn that Alaine is a paladin of Heironeous who keeps a small shrine nearby. He patrols the area of the city, helping to keep the peace and always ready to help the neighborhood citizens. He is well-liked, and there is concern in the citizen’s expression as he wonders why no-one has seen him since a day or so ago.
Tired and sore from the multiple encounters of the day, everyone trudges back to the inn and finally gets a chance to compare notes. Over supper, Grumble, Audric and Badger share what they learned about the house of Bel at the library, and Rowan tells of the rangers.
Afterwards, Grumble leaves to get his javelins from Shooma’s smithy. Nialia excuses herself to head to the grove and find Amrauthlen. Audric and Badger, the party decides, are to go and investigate the shrine where the paladin disappeared from.
Grumble finds his enchanted javelins to be everything he hoped for, and even tries a few casts at some archery butts Shooma keeps in the adjoining alley. He hasn't been this happy since he found the bottle of ha'ak.
Nialia finds Amrauthlin in his grove, where he thanks her for her aid in killing the aberration that slew Grelleck. After some small talk, both elf and lythari climb into the sturdy branches of the ancient oak tree and watch the sun set over the walls of the city.
At the shrine of Heironeous, Audric and Badger find the small chapel to be well-lit and tidy, but currently empty. A closed door leads off the chapel into a small room where the paladin and his squire live. Audric keeps watch outside while Badger searches the room. Unlocking a trunk, Badger forgets to check for traps, and narrowly evades taking the full force of the resulting fireball that bursts out at her. She does get singed, but is surprised that she and Audric cry out in pain at the same time.
Finally the truth comes out that Audric has been casting a spell on her that transfers some of the damage dealt to Badger to himself using the platimun ring he gave her. Still in the chapel, the two argue, unaware that an angry paladin’s squire is standing in the entranceway to the shrine.
A hasty explanation is necessary to prevent violence, but Badger and Audric finally convince the suspicious young woman named Toreal that they meant no harm, and wanted to help find the missing paladin. Toreal tells them that Alaine went to investigate a disturbance reported by a nearby neighbor who feared to investigate it for himself. Alaine never returned, and no trace of him was found at the scene the next morning. Audric and Badger fear the work of Grimlocks, and tell Toreal so. She thanks them and promises to investigate the warehouse (where the grisly remains of the grimlocks’ night-time forays were kept). As the two gnomes leave, Toreal smacks Badger hard on the rear with the flat of her blade, warning her not to meddle with the possessions of others.
As the two head back towards the inn, Audric accidentally lets slip that he can detect thoughts of others. Badger is momentarily dismayed, but Audric reassures her that firstly, he doesn’t do it to the party members (anymore), and secondly, it was the beauty and innocence of Badger’s mind that attracted him to her. “Physical beauty isn’t something really prized by shapeshifters,” he tells her. “But you can’t hide your mind, and the beauty I see there is what made it impossible for me to harm you.”
As Badger accepts this, they hear a cry from behind them. In the dim light (now that night has fallen across the city), they can see a cloud of fog around the small shrine. The two race back, searching through the fog for Toreal.
Badger spies two hunched figures carrying an unmoving Toreal between them. She yells for Audric and charges in, sword swinging. The two men turn out to be magic users, but Audric and Badger are more than a match for them.
Toreal, regaining consciousness (even after being spelled to sleep, then dropped on her head), and identifies one of the men as someone who works in a bookstore called the Reality Wrinkle. Apparently there was a suspicious death there last week that she and Alaine investigated for the city. Lacking any other evidence, they accepted the story that the man fell down the stairs and broke his neck, but the man did have many strange marks on him, almost like small bite wounds.
The gnomes decide to take Toreal back to the inn with them, as it obviously isn’t safe for her here.
Rowan and Grumble are waiting when they get back, and the gnomes tell their story, along with Toreal. They put Toreal in Rowan’s room, though the ranger isn’t thrilled about it. Rowan heads off to bed shortly thereafter, as does Grumble.
Audric takes Badger atop the city walls, where tells her that he wants to end the day with a good surprise and holds her tightly to him. After a leap from the wall, Badger realizes that Audric has grown a pair of large, feathery wings and they are flying!
The rest of the party, it seems, is not having such a great night. Rowan dreams of Potter. He rushes up to her, exclaiming that although he dreams of her all the time, this dream feels oddly real. He kisses her, but as he does, the sky around them grows dark, and out of the trees, a shadowy, cloaked form approaches. Although Rowan cannot see his face, she gets the impression of large, pale eyes, full of inhuman malice and an evil older than men.
Potter and Rowan scream as they feel a wave of battering hate in their minds. Another hits them, and another, driving them to their knees. The robed figure stoops over Potter and draws his head towards the opening of the hood almost lovingly. Potter screams, and above the screams Rowan can hear a sickening snapping and crunch, followed by a nauseatingly wet, organic noise. She rushes forward, but there are branches in her way now. She pushes through them to find Sellim sobbing over the corpse of his slain brother, Grelleck.
To her horror, Grelleck turns his head towards her, and his mouth begins to move, still oozing blood. “When hellfire burns the holy sanctuary, the empire below shall rise above. The outcast shall gather to him all evil, and the speaker in dreams shall become god of this world and the next.”
Grumble’s dream is even worse, if possible. His dream, too, seems more like reality. He lies naked on a stone table, heavy iron manacles binding his hands, legs and neck. His hair is gone, and his left eye has been ripped out. He rmembers that for the past two days, he has been tortured by evil orc clerics. All the clerics have no left eye; the mark of the worshippers of Grummush.
Grumble’s body is a ruin. Each of his fingers has been broken. Hot stones have been applied to his joints, leaving him crippled. Around him, he can barely make out other stone tables. With an anguished croak, his parched mouth trembles as he remembers he has watched as his entire family was tortured as well, then ultimately slain.
A form approaches his table. The head priest. In a metal box the priest carries Grumble’s sacred weapon. In the center of the axe is a large topaz: his family’s jewel. The priest takes several stone tools, and with dark incantations removes the gem from the axe. Laughing demonically, the priest sets the gem against the flat end of something that looks like an icicle. More priests appear , chanting, out of the foul mist and smoke of the chamber. With the same stone tools, the head priest carves runes and symbols into Grumbles helpless flesh: on his forehead, above his heart, his belly, his groin, and on each hand and foot. Grumble tries not to scream, but the pain is unbearable. Even so, all that escapes his ragged lungs is a croak barely recognizable as something that could come from a dwarven throat. The head priest howls a few final words, and all the others fall silent. For a moment, all the marks carved into him seem to burn as if aflame, then the priest slams the icicle down into Grumble’s forehead and everything goes black.
Grumble awakes, soaked in sweat. Auger sits across from him, staring with something almost akin to compassion in his eyes.
“You had to know,” says Auger, as Grumble continues to draw deep, gasping breaths. “There is no training today. Follow me.” Grumble pulls on his armor, takes his axe and heads out of his room into the hallway of the inn. The hallway seems longer than it was last night. At the end of the hallway is a low stone door, the lintels of which are carved with dwarvish runes Grumble cannot read.
Auger stands beside it, looking at Grumble, his face expressionless. “You must go through this door. At the end there will be a fight. Afterwards, you will know what to do. Remember your forms.”
Heaving the heavy door open, Grumble sees a lightless stone corridor descending at a steady slope down as far as his eyes can see. With a deep breath, he begins walking.
The tunnel seems to go down and on forever. Grumble has the curious sensation that he is traveling not only through space, but perhaps time itself. Finally, the hallway ends in another stone door exactly like the first. Opening it, Grumble emerges into a small chapel room. The only decoration, aside from a few ornate stained glass windows, is a low stone altar. Before that altar kneels a dwarf clad in royal armor. At the sound of the intrusion, the dwarf turns to looks at Grumble. Around his head is a metal circlet set with a large topaz… the topaz from Grumble’s dream!
The two stare at each other for a long moment. Finally the dwarf smiles. “Well,” says he, “I didn’t know what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t this.” He eyes Grumble’s axe with a hungry look.
“I think we’re supposed to fight,” says Grumble. The other dwarf nods, as if Grumble was commenting about the weather, taking his own dwarven waraxe from the stone table. The dwarf salutes Grumble, reciting a formal, ritual opening to a duel. Grumble says a few words he doesn’t remember ever having learned, but he knows that they are the words that must be said.
Then they close in, weapons ready. Grumble and the other dwarf quickly find the measure of each other. For the first several strokes, the two seem evenly matched. The other dwarf is a good fighter, but Grumble’s experience and ferocity begin to wear down the other dwarf’s defenses as the two continue to trade heavy blows in silence.
Finally, Grumble catches and locks the dwarf’s axe blade together with his own, and with a quick flick of the wrist sends it spinning across the floor of the chapel. Before the other dwarf can react, Grumble has his blade against the dwarf’s throat.
“I am defeated,” says the dwarf formally, breathing hard.
“Then may your first defeat be your only defeat,” intones Grumble, the words coming to his lips without his conscious control, “arise the Goldenaxe, with all favor of the gods, and rule your people wisely and well.”
The other dwarf bows, then fetches his axe. Grumble feels a tug from his own axe. He knows that he should give his axe to the dwarf. Reluctantly, he does so. The dwarf’s eyes light up as there is a flash. The topaz from the circlet has vanished, and now rests in the center of the axeblade. He holds Grumble’s axe aloft, the topaz winking as if aglow from some inner fire.
“By this Goldenaxe I rule,” he intones. Then he lowers it, clutching at his ribs with a wince.
“You are an exceptional warrior, master dwarf. If it is allowed, may I have the honor of knowing your name.”
Grumble looks away. “I have no name, nor clan. It was taken from me.”
The Goldenaxe purses his lips. “I know not what may have befallen you, but the gods obviously have honored you, else you would not be here to bestow the Goldenaxze with his sacred weapon. Therefore, with the gods permission, I shall give you a new name. “I, Arkraugrimmer, Goldenaxe that is, son of Arkrauthammer, Goldenaxe that was, son of Kronthammer, Goldenaxe that was, name you Morkalek, King’s Guardian, with all honor due to that name. This shall be my first decree as Goldenaxe that is.”
Here Arkraugrimmer pauses, and looks at Grumble. “I do not think we shall see each other again,” he says slowly. “But my heart tells me that you shall serve me again ere I am done with this world. Go in honor and valor, noble Morkalek. May Moradin keep you and Kron’nock guide your steps.”
With that, he bows one last time to Grumble and walks out the stone door that Grumble entered through. Grumble is silent and still for a long time. Finally, he picks up the waraxe left by the Goldenaxe and opens the door again. Nothing greets his eyes but the same long hallway that now slopes upwards. He wearily begins his ascent.
Auger is waiting outside the second door. “It had to be done thusly,” he says. Something bothers Grumble. The look on Auger’s face. Grumble stares. If Auger was many years younger, his hair dark instead of shock white, he would look just like…
“Arkraugrimmer,” breathes Grumble. “ArkrAUGRimmer! You’re him!”
Auger shakes his head sadly. “I am his shadow,” he says. “Not the dwarf himself.” Grumble looks confused. “I am just an echo, trapped in your weapon.”
Grumble looks down at the axe in his hands. It is his magical axe, the same he has had these past months. “What happened to you, then?”
Auger looks pained. “You dreamt it. You felt it. But I do not know what actually happened. That is for you to discover. My recollection is… clouded.”
“However,” Auger continues, “you passed your test, and are now a member of the ancient order of the Dwarven Axemaster. Hail and welcome, Morkalek, Master of the Axe!” Auger grips Grumble’s right bicep firmly, and Grumble feels like someone just pressed an ice cube to his skin on his upper arm.
“You now bear the mark of the Axemaster. No one can remove that mark save by taking your arm first. Do not let them!” He looks deadly serious for a moment, and then breaks into a wintery smile. Releasing Grumble’s arm, he turns and walks away down the hall.
“Your friends will have sore need of your strength in the days to come, Morkalek,” says Auger without turning, “but you will need theirs as well. Trust in them as you would your axe arm, and you may prevail.”
With that, he turns the corner and is gone.