Campaign of the Month: October 2010

Wyrmshadow Campaign Setting

War is Hell - Wrath

Paul Vilbig as Shaden “Leech” Liixe
Derek Romano as Cade “Blindsight” Haarkoth
Greg Mann as Khulvos Hooftorn
Michael Graziano as Daegys Sahii
Christine Scott as T’Saira Behntrilo
Vincent Pecoraro as Elosian Sylvres

The First Six Hours
    I spent the first six hours of silence we could muster as a chance for meditation. There was much to consider. Primarily, I had to come to terms with the loss of my former Sankatte, Crossel. Before I descended into my Inner Sanctum to find and center my thoughts, Adon left me with a few thoughts of his own…
  • Adon said that had Crossel been left to languish in his newfound state of mind, he would only fulfill his own sad, tragic prophecy and become the monster he so feared that he was destined to become. In ending his downward cycle, Laurence saved Crossel from destroying everything good that his soul was capable of. In using Crossel’s soul to grant Daegys more time of his own, he ensured that whatever remains of Crossel will be focused on the fight to which he had always been devoted. Adon said that his only regret was that it was neither I nor he that ended Crossel’s life. It was tragic that it had to be Laurence, but not that it had to be.
  • In my meditations, I realized that I agreed with Adon’s sentinents, but for my own reasons. Crossel’s loss would always be tragic in my eyes, but it did not occur a few hours ago. It occurred the moment he looked into that mirrored pool within himself and found that his destiny lie in becoming a monster. I don’t think Crossel was irredeemable. I don’t think his life was at its end. I do, however, believe that Crossel, the man I knew, would have leapt at the opportunity to sacrifice his own life for the sake of a companion. Daegys needed that sacrifice, and I truly believe that Crossel would have wanted to do whatever was necessary to ensure Daegys’s survival.
  • I was also struggling with something I had just done, something which seemed to be contrary to my every ethical standard. Since I left the Horns of Agony and became a monk, I have forsworn the use of violence as a device for satisfying a personal vendetta, based entirely on anger or hatred. I had just violated this philosophy in striking Darien Vale. I don’t know if anyone noticed that I had done so, but since acting on this impulse, I have felt crowded, invaded, by the idea that my hard-earned shell of dignity and serene confidence was cracking; I felt as if this was a sign that, like so many others around me, perhaps even like Crossel, I was losing myself to this blasted realm and its horrid injustices. In my meditations, I fought to overcome these fears. In that one instance, striking a bound prisoner was not an injustice, and in the doing, I had not displayed a vulnerability. If it was not a humane reaction to the situation, it was at the very least a human reaction. If Ryss would not approve of my act, then I feel Draconius certainly would. It is not ideal, but it will do. I cannot focus on this right now. I’ve too much else on my mind, and my allies need me to be in the fight, focused and confident.
  • Finally, my thoughts lingered to a bit of a crisis of faith I was currently facing. I have been a loyal servant of the ideals of Ryss since my earliest days as a monk, and I have had enormous respect for Draconius, even becoming a member of an order named in his honor. However, in sending his only begotten son to perform this horrid task, the God of Death has become my enemy. I now feel naught but disgust and revulsion for Veil, just as I do for his son, Darien. In my meditations, I could not compromise these feelings. One of my worst enemies was now a god. It was only fitting, then, that one of my best friends was becoming one…
As I returned from my Inner Sanctum, I heard the sound of a nearby conversation taking place. It seemed that the rest of my allies had been using this time in a similar fashion, reflecting on our recent trials and trying to parse our new scenario into our preexisting goals. I sat against a wall, Adon perched immediately to my right in similar fashion, and Leech to my left, at the doorway leading into the bedchamber where Laurence now rested to recover his strength.

Leech had been busy molding chits of obsidian into small, removable pieces of darksteel which would wrap around the outer edges of his existing blade like a segmented shell, increasing its length, breadth, and heft. In his short time with S’zeves V’destrii, he had learned how to focus on his sword and draw the blade back into his hand when it has found itself separated from him. He intended to create a belt of these darksteel shards which would, in similar fashion, spring forth from the belt and attach themselves unerringly to the surface of his sword. It seemed as if at least a portion of his work had been accomplished, though there was a bit of refining to be done. It had to be said, that blade was a bit unwieldy, now. Not being a swordsman myself, I had no place to advice the lad, but I think he needs to add another ten inches to the handle in order to grasp and heave the edge more efficiently.

Across the room from me, Elosian, in his Lord Niska guise, sat and heard a recounting of our adventures in coming to Glyph, through the dubious, often erroneous strains of the minstrel band, Rageferno. He acted delighted, but I could see something else in his body language. Adon, whose concentration broke due to a wailing note on Amducias’s guitar, saw the same thing in Elosian that I did. It was shame. As he heard all that we endured to reach him, with some… factually flawed artistic license by Amducias and his bandmates, we could see that beneath his false bravado (part of his Niska act, no doubt), Elosian felt humbled by the great lengths and sacrifices we had to overcome on the way here, and indeed, for every moment since crossing the threshold of the Hellryft five months ago.

Five months… that’s a decade in our world. We have been gone from Materia for ten years…

Moving Forward
    Within the bedchamber behind me lay the slumbering form of Sir Laurence Van Drake. I could not fathom the ravages of these newfound powers upon him. As he collapsed in the stairwell, after quite nearly killing Darien Vale, he looked as terrible as when Niska had him branded when we were captured within the bowels of the Cauldron. T’saira had spent the majority of the past six hours at his side, trying to make him as comfortable as possible. It was not mere admiration or concern that drove her. In fact, her growing affection for Laurence is palpable. When the demons and devils began to make their entrances into the room with offerings for Laurence, T’saira was, at first, hesitant to let any of them near him.
  • Those who were in attendance in the banquet hall, beings who up until that moment would have been considered our mortal foes, now lined up at the door bearing gifts for Laurence Van Drake, a Kao. Kao are the lowest social order of the Infernian caste system. Well, perhaps not anymore. Cackle delighted in ‘blinking’ in and out of the bedchamber, always returning with a piece of food from the growing pile of offerings laid out before Laurence.
  • When Laurence awoke, he looked in the eye one of the demons bringing him a hot meal, and said “Why don’t you give that to some of those you made suffer before this day? Devote the rest of your life to making amends for the horrible atrocities you’re responsible for, or to die in such effort, and then, you shall have my respect.” Laurence then turned to Daegys, who was amid conversing with Cylia up until Sir Laurence awoke. “Where is Darien Vale?”
  • Laurence asked for my presence, and Leech came out of the doorway to tap me on the shoulder and rouse me from my meditations. I dutifully went to Laurence’s side, noticing that the looks on everyone’s faces betrayed not happiness, but concern, at his consciousness. Laurence was obviously still weak. His movements were disjointed and his speech slow, yet deliberate. He told me that he needed me to invade Darien Vale’s Inner Sanctum and scour his mind for information. We need to know how it was that this whole zombie mess was started, and how it could be ended without the wholesale destruction of the entire city and it’s inhabitants. He asked if I had any ethical hangups in delving into an unwilling mind. I had none. This was to undo a wrong Darien and his father had visited upon us. He was entitled to no such consideration.
  • Leech volunteered almost immediately to accompany me into Darien’s Inner Sanctum. Adon offered to be our tether beyond the Inner Sanctum, able to advice us and, in an emergency, tear us back out of Darien’s sanctum. Adon had several important points to make. Primarily, Darien’s mind had obviously been god-touched. Veil may have placed some protections in Darien’s subconscious mind that would be as traps for anyone delving too deeply within. It was thus possible that Leech and I were going into some very real danger. Leech sniffed. I blinked. Adon smiled and continued his advice. This was the first time I had ever descended into the Inner Sanctum of a dragon’s mind. It is all too easy to forget, upon looking at his very ‘human’ form, that Darien Vale is a Black Dragon King. The… architecture… of a dragon’s mind is quite different from that of a Weren, Human, or Elf. It was not an experience I was necessarily equipped to face. Still, we were determined to go forward with our plan… even if only to sate Laurence’s desire to save this city.
  • I informed Darien, whose flippancy and arrogance continued unabated despite his current situation, that if he didn’t struggle, there would be little if any pain in this ritual. Laurence told him to struggle, because he wanted him to feel every instance of pain he could fathom. I noticed right away that Laurence’s propensity for meting out punishment had grown substantially, and that his attitude was, at the moment, nigh sadistic. I couldn’t blame him in this case, but I was concerned for the future. How far would my friend descend into this dark abyss before I had to make the same choice he made with Crossel? How far was too far to let Laurence fall

To Read The Next Chapter of Wyrmshadow Adventures: War is Hell, Click Here!

To Read The Previous Chapter of Wyrmshadow Adventures: War is Hell, Click Here!

To learn more about the Dreamers, click here

Chapter 1: The Dreamers in… Hellbound
Chapter 2: The Dreamers in… Life In The Cauldron
Chapter 3: The Dreamers in… The Waking Nightmare
Chapter 4: The Dreamers
Chapter 5: The Dreamers in… Escaping The Cauldron
Chapter 6: The Dreamers in… Wrath of the Beholder
Chapter 7: The Dreamers in… Hounds of Hell
Chapter 8: The Dreamers in… Hideous Laughter
Chapter 9: The Dreamers in… The Tomb of Caenus Graymane
Chapter 10: The Dreamers in… Allure of the Wispwaters
Chapter 11: The Dreamers in… Goodbye, Impy
Chapter 12: The Dreamers in… Sole Survivor
Chapter 13: The Dreamers in… The Iron Fist
Chapter 14: The Dreamers in… Battle at the Ancient Wall
Chapter 15: The Dreamers in… The Long, Hard Road
Chapter 16: The Dreamers in… Hunted
Chapter 17: The Dreamers in… On Fields of Ancient Dead
Chapter 18: The Dreamers in… The Woods of Woe
Chapter 19: The Dreamers in… Divine Intervention
Chapter 20: The Dreamers in… The Standing Stones
Chapter 21: The Dreamers in… Cherished Memories
Chapter 22: The Dreamers in… Hero of the Night Sword
Chapter 23: The Dreamers in… Well of Slivered Souls
Chapter 24: The Dreamers in… Dreams of a Lost World
Chapter 25: The Dreamers in… What Might Have Been (Part 1 of 2)
Chapter 26: The Dreamers in… What Might Have Been (Part 2 of 2)
Chapter 27: The Dreamers in… Shimekiri Sankatte (Part 1 of 2)
Chapter 28: The Dreamers in… Shimekiri Sankatte (Part 2 of 2)
Chapter 29: The Dreamers in… A Long Black Day
Chapter 30: The Dreamers in… No Justice In Hell
Chapter 31: The Dreamers in… The Soothsayer’s Tower
Chapter 32: The Dreamers in… Harrowing Revelations
Chapter 33: The Dreamers in… Tonight We Dine In Hell
Chapter 34: The Dreamers in… The Dead Rise To Claim Us
Chapter 35: The Dreamers in… Wrath
Chapter 36: The Dreamers in… Shadows in the Distance


This session’s logs are truncated for the purpose of cohesion. The next session will, as in the previous one, be told through several voices and not just Khulvos’s. This is because the heroes are separating into smaller teams and taking on several tasks at once. My plan is for everyone to have someone to control, something to do, as the other teams are performing their tasks.

War is Hell - Wrath

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