08 March 2009

Back to the City That Waits

Tower of Test
The warhorns of the Exalted sounded and then keened their deathknell as the party entered the Tower of Test. Here they found the grisly trophies of the brave who had dueled for the rank of the Lord High Exalted, greatest warrior of the Moilian Empire, their silent heads a grim tribute to the prowess of this office. At the entrance to the test they found the still animated head of Gustarath. After being made subject to Boris' diabolic will Gustarath explained that he had seen both the accursed Azerack and and the poncey mage Desato pass by. Gustarath further indicated that the way through the tower was beset with several tests, hence the name of the tower.
The first test was one of agility, might iron pillars adorned with skulls were propped willy nilly through the chamber. Using Warrick's fire walls they smelt the pillars together and the party slowly made its way through the jack straws of the titans. Goldune blundered into one column and slipped causing the mass of metal beams to fall on him. Fortunately his great might and the necromantic helpers of Boris were enough to free him from the dastardly chamber.
The party then found itself blocked by a mighty silver door with single, ice encased handle at its base. Calling upon all his feral might Dorun hoisted the door allowing the party to pass the test of might. They entered a chamber adorned with orbs emitting a discordant hum. Still maddened the brothers charged through the room, triggering a debilitating tone which made Warrick collapse to the floor. The rest of the party rushed across the room to escape as the Warbreed fetched their fallen comrade.
In the next chamber a progressively difficult puzzle lock was eventually stymied by Boris' wit and the party passed though to a chamber of pendulous blades, slicing the air. Using 10' poles and Lextra's rogue skills to disable the blades, they gained admission to the chambers of the Lord High Exalted.
The leathery corpse of the bane warrior strode from a diabolic purple mist. Boris and Warrick identified it as a death ward and protected Dorun, who entered a murderous rage and engaged this undead champion. The two locked blades with homicidal happiness and Dorun's dwaven axe, Deathkeeper, cleaved great wounds in his opponents mummified flesh. The Lord High Exalted's wounding blade made many great wounds in the doughty Warbreed, but in the end the mettle of the dwarf hybrid was stronger and the Lord High Exalted fell, his head smote from his shoulders. The party claimed the spoils of the fallen trophy heads in the chambers below.

Tower of Dream
The party traversed the span to the next tower, a drug den used by the ancient Moilian's to expand their conscious. Here they found the Lucidium used by these decadent mystic race to gain more powers of spell and mind. Goldune spotted a great vaporous head as they entered the tower, but it vanished into the mists of negative energy swirling about the towers. The Tower of Dream held a Moilian zombie disposed of by Boris. They found the tower to be nearly split in two, this chasm held a platform inlaid with red stone bearing an inscription. Following the directions on the stone, they rotated the hour glass above the red stone. This summoned the great vaporous skull known as the Vestige, composed of thousands of insane consciousness from Moil. The brothers Warbreed backed by Boris and Warrick engaged the creature's searing tentacles. The Vestige began absorbing Goldune's consciousness but on they fought. The brothers magical axes, Deathkeeper and Tempest, and Warrick's eldritch might slew the beast. After slaying the beast and restoring Goldune they reset the hour glass, freeing more energy toward the Black Spire.

The Black Spire
This dark, ugly, block of ice disappeared into the mists of the Negative Plane. Wound tightly to its contour was a narrow walkway. Boris used windwalk to transport the party safely to the base of the tower where a small precipice marked the entrance to the Black Spire. Guarding the door were a pair of mighty jackal headed statues and a central peering eye. Inside a dark corridor of ice with many twisted figures trapped within its walls stretched menacingly. As the party entered the figures began to writhe, straining to break the confines of their frozen prison. Warrick made short work of this lot with his eldritch flame. The Moilian zombies were no more and the flames revealed a pit trap that would have claimed the adventurers if they had rushed past the encased undead.
At the end of the hall a chute ringed the stone serpents awaited. Given their experience with the tricks of Azerack, Warrick used his mystic powers to destroy the snakes at range. The brothers Warbreed then climbed through the opening, not realizing the steepness or slipperiness of the chute. As they slid, cursing, down the chute the remainder the party attempted a more elegant egress. At the bottom of the slide a yawning dark cliff awaited and the brothers drove their axes deep into the ice to slow their descent.
From the dark mists sprang a winter wight, an undead spawn of the black fire. Dorun and Goldune wasted no time and grappled with the creature, who spread its dark flames to their flesh. As the brothers Warbreed wrestled with the creature its flames, succored by their life force, grew higher. The remainder of the party emerged safely from the chute while the Warbreed threw the wight into the brink. Boris struck them with a bolt of flame, vanquishing the foul blaze.
The party then proceed along the edge of the cliff to the stable of the Phantom, a great winged monstrosity, an obscene creature of tentacles and wings. Their numerous previous objectives had opened the its arcane stable doors and using the silver key they had found many days before they freed it from its manacles. The abomination knelt before them and the party climbed aboard. With nary a sound the Phantom lifted into the air on its bat-like wings. As they left the city of Moil, Cindia the medical madron became lifeless.
The Phantom flew with the speed of madness, plunging through frigid, stygian darkness until finally alighting at a portal, sculpted in the shape of the yawning maw of the Devourer, the brink to the Fortress of Conclusion...