INTO THE FIRE

January 14, 1999 GM: Kenneth Newquist

During its 'expulsion' from the city, the guild’s property & half-built guildhall in Greyhawk was confiscated and the guild was ordered to pay a 40,000 gold piece fine for inciting a riot among other greater and lessser crimes in the city.

Mayor Nerof ordered Malphas never to return to Greyhawk, and that if it did return, he would be executed. The Blackrazors were ordered to leave, and encouraged never to return as a guild  of any kind – although, technically, they could do so as individuals.

The Blackrazors reluctantly accepted these conditions and punshments and withdrew to the basement of their uncompleted manor house via the teleportation door from Greyhawk. The officials in Greyhawk – having been alerted to this portal – promptly destroyed it. It is now the 7th of Wealsun, CY 588.

The remaining four teleportation doors were not an option -- the portals to Rel Mord and the other distant destinations wouldn’t be available for weeks or months.

The only direction they could go was up.

They sent Gaiseric up to the second level of the never-completed manor house’s basement and he quickly ran back after seeing several guards there -- specifically, several Blackrazor guards.

Guildmaster Tanevir Calywyn, Trithereon priest Kalib Ironfist, the elf mage Malaclypse, and the others shook their heads in amazement. They’d though the basement had been safe -- clearly they had been wrong. They weighed their options: they could hide down here, they could attack the guards above, or they could find out what in the Hells was going on.

Amazingly, they decided on the last option.

Acting as though they owned the place, they moved to the second level. The guards -- young ones that they didn’t recognize -- whirled around as Kalib walked forward. Instead of reaching for a weapon, or shouting an alarm, the guards smiled. "Kalib Ironfist! Sven Kildare! Everyone -- you have returned! Wait until guildmaster Windstalker learns of this! Please, follow me!"

The Blackrazors just stared at each other in disbelief -- this was getting stranger and stranger.

* * *

The Aaron Windstalker standing before them in the first-level banquet hall was not the Aaron Windstalker they had known. He couldn’t be. The Aaron they knew had been lost with the rest of the senior members in the Twisted Forest nearly a year ago. Their minds had been trapped there, as their bodies were possessed by the souls of long-lost, long-mad Suel mages.

This could not be Aaron. It had to be one of the Suel wearing his body.

He stood at the opposite end of the long table and motioned to them to sit at the giant dinner table. He was dressed in Aaron’s elven chainmail, and his sword, Amberlyn, hung at his side.

"My friends -- welcome back!" he said. Kalib rested his hand on Justiceseeker’s hilt. Is that Aaron? he mentally asked.

No -- it is another, the sword responded.

"We have so looked forward to your return. Please, do sit."

"We’ll stand." Kalib growled.

Aaron sat.  "As you will. I must tell you, much has changed since your departure last summer during the city’s liberation."

"Liberation?" Kalib asked.

"Yes, the joyous liberation of Obsidian Bay from the genocidal rule of its adventurers-turned-tyrant leaders . Our wise Brotherhood friends drove those madmen -- who had been bent on exterminating the humanoid natives of this land -- from the city and helped to establish a new government in its place. Now the villians have been forced from the city. We -- specifically, you -- are heroes for helping to bring about the city’s true freedom," Windstalker said.

"Our former guildmaster, Damaculas, helped to coordinate the liberation on the cityside. Of course, he was tragically killed in the fighting."

Kalib let out a snort -- he’d been the one who’d "tragically" slain the murderous traitor.

"As Damculas helped the Brotherhood from within, the senior Blackrazors razed the city’s magical defenses and destroyed the vile Obsidian Tower. And then there was your part -- you managed to distract the city’s leaders from the true invasion threat to the city, allowing our naval forces a surprise landing. Bravo!"

The Blackrazors were stunned. This was bad. And getting worse.

"We are now the most powerful, respected and famous guild in the city. With the funds we’ve accumulated under my reign as guild master, we were able to complete the manor house above us. Falgar and my fellow senior members are on missions of their own right now, but our good friend Ragnar is still in the city -- he is the new Lord Mayor’s counselor of war.

"And finally -- and most importantly -- our roster now stands at over 150 men. It is truly a great day for the Blackrazors".

Kalib stared at the man who claimed to Aaron. Was that an evil little glint he saw in the half-elf’s eye?

"Of course, you are free to do whatever you want in the city -- you are heroes here remember -- but I advise you not to act against our Brotherhood friends and their allies in the city. It would be -- unfortunate -- if anything happened to threaten the city’s new peace."

* * *

When the Blackrazors left the basement they found that Aaron’s word had been true -- they were heroes. Cheers followed them as they left the Blackrazor compound and as they entered the Mudsitters District a huge crowd of its inhabitants let out a bellow of support.

They had achieved everything they had ever wanted, for exactly all the wrong reasons.

They had to leave the city and soon. Kalib had been granted a vision of the Lost Crypt of Krovis -- the one individual who could possibly free the city and drive evil from the Pomarj.

They headed to a local stable to buy horses for their exodus. The folks running the business -- called Erst and Co. Livery -- were very friendly and offered them the standard ‘hero’ discount of 10 percent. As they waited for their new steeds, some of the Blackrazors began talking about overthrowing the city government. Erst was infuriated by this talk and immediately ordered them to leave, in spite of their reputation.

Having been kicked out of one livery, they headed down to another in the Strange Quarter. The individuals at Talamer’s were clearly intimidated by the Blackrazors.

"I-I-I can’t afford to give you the standard discount," the owner said.

"That’s alright," Kalib said.

The owner looked stunned and confused "Ah, ah, I understand sir -- look, the best I can do is 20 percent. I can’t go any higher."

"I said it wasn’t a problem."

The man looked more agitated. "Honestly sir, 20 percent is as high as I can go."

Kalib groaned. This was ridiculous. "Fine. 20 percent is fine. We just want the horses."

The man stumbled away from the counter. "Y-y-yes sir -- I’ll get them. I don’t w-w-want any trouble…"

It took them another two hours to get out of the city, but they finally made it and headed for the hills.

* * *

They weren’t expecting the attack, nor were they expecting the attackers.

It was the 9th of Wealsun, CY 588. They had been out of the city for two days and were camping in the foothills of the Drachensgrabs. They had stopped by the guild’s brewery and discovered that it a contingent of the ‘new’ city guard had been stationed there, along with about 30 Blackrazors. They had continued on, ignoring Mogelsville and the re-located Obsidian Tower (which Kalib said was somewhere in the Drachensgrabs) in favor of a direct path to the lost crypt.

And then, as they were resting from a long day's ride, the attack came.

D’klar and Kalib were on guard when the first volley of arrows hit them. The dwarven cleric and the human priest shouted the alarm -- but their words never made it out of their mouths. Everything around them was silent.

As D’klar immediately ran into into the night, seeking battle, Kalib used Justiceseeker to rally his like-minded friends with a telepathic shout. Then he charged right after the furious dwarf..

* * *

When D’klar got close enough to his opponents to pick them up with his night vision, he suddenly realized that he was being shot at by elves. And what kind of elves attack in the dark of night? "Drow", he grumbled soundlessly. "Why are they here?" Half a moment later, D'klar shrugged to himself, "Why not?" and kept swinging.   Kalib ran up along side him, and the two clerics were soon landing serious blows against their opponents.

Elsewhere, things were going badly. Luc and the Blackrazor’s magically animated iron dog were trapped in deep shafts evacuated by dig spells cast by their unseen opponents. Then Tanevir and the cavalier Demetry Hawkins were held by spells.

Kalib was finally able to rip the silenced arrow from his armor and threw it away. He called out to his opponents. "Who are you? Who dares attack us while we rest?"

The voice that came back had a high edge to it -- an elven edge. "We are the Orcslayers -- and you are traitors."

Oh no, Kalib thought.

* * *

The Blackrazors and their opponents stood opposite each other. Both sides had stood down -- or at least they weren’t actively fighting any more.

"What do you mean … traitors?"

"You know exactly what I mean," the half-elf before Kalib said. The man was wearing dark leather armor and had weapon-black on his long sword. "You -- and your fellow ‘Blackrazors’ -- single-handedly orchastrated the fall of our city. Our city!" the man said.

"What is your name?" Kalib asked.

"You don’t need to know that. What you need to do is wait for my commander to arrive. Cutter will enjoy having words with you."

Kalib nodded. He recognized the name -- Cutter was a human ranger and one of the three leaders of the Orcslayers Guild..

* * *

Three hours later, Cutter arrived with another detachment of Orcslayers. "Kalib Ironfist." he said simply.

"Yes," Kalib answered.

"You should not be here. I have standing orders from the Lord Mayor to capture any Blackrazor in the area and return them to Blue for trial on charges of high treason."

"Should I ask…"

"Why?" Cutter said. "You and yours misled the Lord Mayor, your ‘guildmaster’ helped coordinate the invasion, and your senior members destroyed the Obsidian Tower. And you ask why?"

"No, no I don’t need to ask. But you must understand that we are not traitors," Kalib said. He fingered his rune of pursuit. "I am a priest of Trithereon. I wield the sword Justiceseeker -- which holds the soul of my murdered teacher."

Cutter gasped. "We suspected that Justiceseeker had been killed but we never dreamed…"

"We--" Kalib said, motioning to his fellow Blackrazors "-- are here to avenge the city’s fall, and to free it if we can. I have been granted a vision by Trithereon -- he has shown me the location the Sleeper.  We are on our way to the Crypt of Krovis."

Cutter looked at him -- his initial skepticism was rapidly dissolving away. "The Sleeper?"

"The very one. The hero-god that could save us all."

"And you swear on your god’s name that this is true?"

"Yes," Kalib said, utterly serious.

Cutter stared at him for a moment. "We will let you go." He waved to his troops. "Don’t make me regret this."

"You won’t. Can you get to the Lord Mayor, and explain to him what we’re trying to do?"

"Yes. Now go," he said, motioning for his horse. "And may all our gods be with you.

This page was last edited on 11/05/99 -- The Griffin's Crier