Helkey 33 — The Battle of Sunken Crag, Dark Web Revelations

My moment of blackout flickers away. Urgency fills my body like a thunderbolt. “Gotta move!” I groan, thinking of Overseer and the killer devils still left to fight. My eyes open, breaking through a cake of crud, sand, dried tears. Overhead, the Hell-sky is turning from green-black to puke-green. Weird crap the devils hurled up there forms its thin, black net above the sky of this baking hole of a world festering in its own stink and ruin. To my right, the horizon is a bruise over a red-eye sunrise. Featherstar’s tongue rasps over my belly. Each lick draws away some pain. Layers of healing spittle ooze into my wound. A mesh forms — knitting flesh, stopping the outward flow of blood. Mottle quivers as I fight back to consciousness. His fangs are in my neck — injecting restoring fluid through my veins. Another Mottle, Zephyr, drapes over my right arm. He’s also injecting his fluids — this time into my wrist. Zaya’s crouched beside me. She’s got her hand on my name curse. Her touch is warm, soft, electric. She must’ve flown back to me when she saw my fight with the devil leader. Keeps putting herself at too much risk. Like I’m one to effing talk.

I lever myself up. Glance around. Dead devils are strewn across the gully’s edge. Plumacats prowl among the bodies, devouring their chosen prey. Vortexes, their pained soul-warbles silent, lay derelict. Overhead, light streaks. Urdrake, still on the gully’s other side, fire their beams toward a handful of fleeing devils. Running away from them and toward me are Zel and Theri. Theri’s waving her arms. Zel’s shouting some words of concern. They’re both obviously freaked out by me laying on the ground. “I’m OK!” I try to shout toward them. My hoarse voice comes out like the croak of some giant effing frog. I’m pretty sure they can’t hear me. I turn my head, tracing the streaks of light emitting from the Urdrake’s fucking heads. Lumionous lances follow the running devils. An explosion blooms as a Vortex ruptures, hurling its devil rider about eighty feet as it careers across the Wisp Fields. I lever myself up to a sitting position. I look down, see a stain of black upon the ground beneath me. I’m sitting in a pool of my own fucking blood. “How long was I out?” I croak again.

Grimjaw, squatting on his haunches beside me, eyes scanning the destruction surrounding us, lets out a rumbling purr of assurance. “Only moments, father,” he says. “You took down the devil streak’s leader. But his treacherous spine nicked you.” He blinks his large eyes. It’s effing weird being reassured by the big predator. His tiger-like jaws drip with gore. His last devil kill. Maybe some of his last meal.

I shove myself off the ground. Zephyr releases, then flaps off to his Plumacat. The vibration he sends behind him — an exultation at my rising to my feet. I waver, grab for Perry-Fucin-A, take an orange-flavored chug of the fizzy water that keeps replenishing in my Jesus-curse bottle. I’m crazy-thirsty. The hot water isn’t as refreshing as it could be. But this is Hell. I’ll take what I can get. A moment before the flask empties, I pull it away from my lips, letting the fizzy water refill. My waist tinges with pain. I look down. My white fiery phoenix T-shirt is now covered in multi-colored crud — yellow sulfur crap, brown and purple dirt, black and red blood, the off-white mesh of Plumacat spittle. I guess I could’ve picked a color other than white for Hell. But what this fuck, this isn’t a fashion show. My wound is clearly visible through a hole in my shirt. The stuff Featherstar spat-licked over it covers and fills the broken skin and what must be a deep gash. I poke it. It’s rough on the outside, squishy and wet on the inside. It throbs with my heartbeat. As I look, I can kinda see it drawing my flesh together.

“Fucking gross! Cool!” I exclaim. I can’t help myself. Body stuff is always weird. But spit that can heal you is also pretty goddamn cool. I take a breath, drag a somewhat clean patch of my shirt across my eyes to clear them of crud, then look out across the battlefield. Five feet away from me is the devil leader’s dead body. His nasty axe is embedded in the ground ten feet away. His Vortex careened past us and now rests at the gully’s bottom. I draw my moonshadow blade from the air. It never went away. Even after I lost consciousness. My energetic vessel, continuously filling with a deluge of wisp energy, keeps it powered up. Slicing down, I rupture the devil leader’s worb. Wisps flood up the blade in a bright wash of light then shift into my name curse or shadow. A fucking hundred and forty four all come from this one devil’s worb. Sixty three bright wisps, eighty one dark. My shadow swarms. My name curse spits out a second roman candle. Three hundred and fucking nine wisps and I’m responsible for every frigging one. Eighty bright wisps, two hundred and twenty nine dark. I feel like I’m standing on a volcano of magical potential. My energetic vessel surges. I’m gonna need fucking all of it.

I turn. Dead devils are all around. This devil leader’s force of about fifty — destroyed. Its scattered remnants are falling to a nearby barrage of Urdrake light flashes. Further off, I can see more lights lancing through the dawn. Zorfang’s force is still raining his laser-like volleys on the scorpions. One is derelict, burning. The others are wandering, hurling their massive Hell balls in random directions. The small force of about ten Vortexes that surrounded these scorpions are further off, fleeing back toward Overseer Tower. I pump my fist in the air. “Fuckin A! Zorfang did it!”

My eyes follow the retreating Vortexes. In the new light of Hell’s dawn, I can see them making toward a bridge overwatched by wicked towers. The bridge crosses a wide and gaping chasm. Its dark inside — full of creeping shadows. Sunken Crag is what Theri and Zel called it. Looks crazy-nasty. On the bridge’s far side, the faint outlines of more lumbering scorpions waver through a pollution haze of Vortex exhaust. The rest of Overseer’s might on its way to crush us. Dropping my eyes, I shift focus back to my immediate surroundings. A few prone bodies of Plumacats and Mottles are scattered among the dead clusters of devils. My heart makes this jarring lurch as I absorb the losses. They call me father. I feel like a father. In a way I am. My magic and Zaya’s gave them this desperate new life.

I turn to Featherstar, lay a hand on her heavily-muscled shoulder. Her feathers rustle beneath my touch. They’re both tough and soft. A mix of down and armor. “Featherstar,” My voice chokes despite my efforts to keep it clear. “Gather the wounded and dead. Tell the wounded to shelter in this gully.” I point down and behind me. “Leave two Plumacats and a Mottle to help them. Have these three also set aside our dead. Separate from the devils. I also want them to collect the devils’ worbs. We’ll free those wisps and honor our lost when we win this.” I’m trying to convey confidence. I’m pretty fucking certain we’re unlikely to win. But there’s no way we’ll win if we don’t believe. Zephyr lands on Featherstar, they leap-fly off, gather with a cluster of joined Mottles and Plumacats, then disperse to get it done.

Positions of Resister and Devil forces during the Battle of Sunken Crag, Dark Web Revelations

By the time Featherstar’s returned, I’ve made a rough assessment of our present state. Looks like we have seven dead and six wounded. Minus the three I’m leaving to take care of our casualties, that leaves us with sixty three Mottles, Plumacats, and Urdrakes, including me, Zaya, Theri and Zel. Zorfang’s thirteen still seem to be going strong. So our total effective force is seventy six. Peering out beyond Sunken Crag, the movement I’m glimpsing hints as hundreds.

Zel and Theri clamber up the gully to me. “You all right?” Zel asks. “We saw you go down. Looked pretty bad.”

“I’ll live,” I reply with a half-smile. “For now.”

“That’s a relief,” Theri says, then reaches a hand out to pat my shoulder. She seems to be assuring herself I’m still live and in the flesh.

“Thanks for the worry.” I say, grabbing her hand and giving it a squeeze. I motion to the apparent horde of devils in the distance. “When we decided to start a rebellion against Overseer, I didn’t realize we’d be taking it all on in just one day.”

Zel laughs nervously and scratches a horn. Theri simply shrugs. “They’re pretty militarized. Plus they probably sensed your magic. That got them really riled. Then, well, we did this.” She motions around her at the carnage. “You linked up with a Vila and raised an army of forbidden forms. Not only is that incredible. It’s something that’s not happened in Minos for hundreds of years. Yeah. They’re riled.”

“Indeed they are,” I say.

“You got a plan?” Zel asks. “You gotta have a plan.”

“I’m pretty sure you asked me this before.”

“That was like minutes ago. Things change quick.”

This makes me laugh. “I always have a plan,” I say as I continue to scan the devil force. It’s mostly true. Mostly. What’s more true is I’m always coming up with hair brained ideas. But I gotta project confidence. I look down at the fucking Vortexes. I’m concocting another right about now. Yeah. We’re probably gonna need those awful things again. At least for a hot minute. “Speaking of… Do you know how many devils that fucking tower can throw at us?”

Theri turns back toward Overseer. “Maybe five hundred or so. Though I bet they’ll keep back a tower guard of about a hundred.”

“So you’re saying we’ve got like three hundred of those fuckers coming at us now? Complete with more scorpions and Vortex riders?”

Theri shrugs. “Probably. That’s the more or less of it.”

Holy Jesus fuck! I grit my teeth, biting back my curse. “Right. Well that makes my decision easy then. Featherstar!” I shout hoarsely to my Plumacat leader. She pads over. The other Plumacats have finished their victory feasting. The Mottles on their backs are quiet. My team of nine Urdrake scrabble up from the gully. “Good, I see I’ve got everyone’s attention.” I motion to the derelict Vortexes. “It looks like we’ve managed to capture about thirty five of these working nasties. I want everyone to grab one. Pair off. Mottle — I want you to share my learning about Vortex riding with the other Mottles. Then have them share that thinkum with everyone. Do it all in five minutes!” The Plumacats and Urdrake pad off to collect the bikes. I’m concerned about the Urdrake’s hulking forms, ungainly hands, and stubby legs. But with the Mottles helping, maybe my Urdrake can ride.

It takes them about three minutes to gather the thirty three working bikes. If we all pair off with a Mottle, that still leaves four behind. I turn to Grimjaw. “We don’t have quite enough. That’s OK. Your scouts are quick when teamed with Mottles. I want your six to follow us. But be fast!” I glance over to the scouts. They’d been fortunate and not suffered any losses.

“Yes father!” Grimjaw growls, then turns to his group of hunters. They line up. Ready. His response is pretty enthusiastic. Where he seemed to look down on me about an hour before, he now appears to have cemented his trust in my leadership. I’m guessing him watching me kill that devil leader in single combat might’ve clenched it.

I walk up to my chosen Vortex. It’s got devil’s blood splattered all over. My headache starts up again the moment I hear those poor souls wailing in the foul machine’s worb combustion chamber. I’m not happy about the damned stinking thing. But we need to move fast and this is all I can come up with. We’ll have to learn to do something else in future. I hate these machines fucking fierce. I jump on, turn to my company. “Mount up! We ride to those scorpions!” I shout, pointing to the machines careening back and forth about four miles away.

My company clambers onto the Vortexes. They’re awkward at first. The Urdrakes stumble. A few topple off, remount. Their Mottles stretch bodies wide to help them balance. If things weren’t so urgent, it’d be comical. Kinda like a bunch of mini Godzillas trying to ride a kid’s bike. At last, after about a minute of scuffling around, we’re off. The worb’s howls rip at my ears. I grit my teeth. We’re maybe six, seven minutes away at this pace. As I ride, I drag my hand through omnis scientia. Zorfang’s no longer huffing. He’s stationary just north of the Razor Hills and about five miles south of those scorps in the Wisp Fields. I guess he needed to take a breather. “Zorfang!” I shout through the sensor.

“Yes father!” He harooms.

“Stop shooting at those scorpions! Looks like you got ’em! More nasties are coming at us from Overseer! I want you to move northwest! Get back into some hills and keep an eye on the bridge crossing Sunken Crag! It’s that big bridge to the north crossing that massive canyon! I might send someone to help you in a bit! Now get going!”

“We move!” Zorfang shouts.

Four victories against the devils so far. But the big fight’s still ahead. I focus on keeping my motley crew together as we angle in toward the scorpions. Glancing over at the horde of devils boiling out of Overseer in the hot Hell dawn, I crack a half-grin. The bastards must be really freaking out about now. Let them.

********

New day falls hot on an Overseer Tower trembling with the force of Regina Rouge’s rage. The two Dark Psychics, one balled on the floor, flayed and burned by the lash of her scourge, the other quivering in fear, are useless. Too blinded by religious zeal to give her an accurate report on this impossible mage. The pair of doltish guards at the door, casting their emotionless stares out and past her, only annoy her further. A simpering Uktena — Trandix — whirls its red serpent body through the air about twenty feet off, too cowardly to face her. She wheels on Reiza, the second Dark Psychic. Her Holocaust Scourge roars with heat, withers the air, her worb crackles as it grinds down scores of souls to power it. She drinks in the wisps’ pain, revels in Reiza’s terror. Paltry balm.

“Now, Reiza…” she says as she caresses the Dark Psychic’s long, thin horn. It is delicate. Like an antenna. So easy to break. And yet sensitive, capable of channeling wisp energy, of projecting senses far, of seeing through the eyes of other Dark Psychics. “… Show me how this mage defeated my Lavross. Your vision will not flinch. You will supply better answers. Or…” she looks down at Orloxx.

On the ground, in a pool of his own blood, Orloxx whimpers. His pained convulsions cause scorched skin to crackle. The sweet smell of his half-cooked flesh rises to Reiza’s nostrils. He doesn’t dare look down at Orloxx. There’s no help for him. Whether Reiza shares his fate hangs on the whims of the enraged Regina. Reiza takes a breath, extends a hand to Regina. “As my Lady directs. Take my hand and embrace the Web’s darkness. Travel to see what Asmodeus’s threads have witnessed,” the ancient ritual provides comfort. Its words, spoken countless times throughout his order, provide a brief illusion of normal. His horns buzz as his worb grinds out the soul energy needed to power his diabolical magic.

Regina flicks her scourge at him. Flames tease over his skin. His worb’s innate defenses bend back. He lets out a whimper as pain shoots through him. He knows there’s nothing he can do to prevent Regina from lashing him down into a smoldering lump. His order will petition Asmodeus to punish her for mistreating Orloxx. But it will do him no good if she also turns her scourge on him. So he ignores the pain, then grinds down his captured wisps again. In their outcry, he begins to conjure the Asmodeus-blessed vision of the Web.

Regina, at last satisfied Reiza will try to act as commanded, accepts the vision. But instead of taking his hand, she tightens her grip around his frail horn. Reiza gasps at this personal violation, glances down at Orloxx, says nothing. “Now show me!” Regina commands.

The Dark Psychic’s worb wails. Cries of captive souls and a flood of devil-magic washes over them, casting their senses into the great Minosian Web. A filigree of connections spreading between thousands of Dark Psychics scattered over Minos, this Web carries the sight of Asmodeus and his Hell Lords out across Hell’s lands, over waters, through its skies, even crossing time. The strands of energy running between each Psychic drink up surrounding events like a world-spanning eye. The Web is also the heart of the Dark Psychics’ faith. In which their made-Web and its informant-devout grants Asmodeus god-like omniscience — placing them both as his priests and as arbiters of reality on Minos.

Regina, guided by such a Dark Psychic, allows her senses to be pulled back in time along the Web. Lets this fanatical devotee of Asmodeus bring her sight to the pre-dawn Wisp Fields. They stare down on a gully. Watch the flashes of magical sparks shooting out from the mage, glowing brightly, blinding Talith’s Lance.

“Closer,” Regina commands. “I want to see that mage up close and personal. I want to breathe his breath. Smell his air. See his magic flow! Now do it!” Orloxx had brought her back to this point. Then, for some reason, the fanatic turned into a blithering fool. Refusing her commands, he backed out. The punishment she gave for defying her orders was the least that he deserved. He’d cost her precious time as moments bled by. She turns her furious spectral gaze, cast out through the Web’s structure, onto Reiza.

The Dark Psychic feels the heavy force of her anger through the Web. He rushes to obey. Reiza begins to focus the Web to bring their view closer. Flinches as he sees the mage, then freezes. “It is not possible! This is Blasphemy!” He cries.

Regina tightens down on the Dark Psychic’s horn. “Stop your limp-brained bleating. Now, show me what Orloxx would not. Show me what he was too weak and fanatical to reveal, or so help me I will burn you to a cinder,” Regina commands.

The pain in Reiza’s horn as Regina grips and twists jars his connection with the Great Web. The spirit of Asmodeus flowing through its strands around him flickers. In front of him, the impossible stares him directly in the face. It spits at him — defiling everything he thinks he knows. Yet unlike Orloxx, Reiza isn’t willing to die for his dogma. He grits his teeth, lifts his hand, then allows the Web to carry Regina’s sight closer.

Regina gasps as she sees the little mage. A girl! Her mage energy not even yet fully formed. Sparks fly from a sigil on her arm. An impossibly large wave of magic bursts out. It washes through the Web. Leaving her stunned for a moment. Again, Regina cannot understand how the mage is displaying so much power. Again, she feels a great, gnawing hunger to possess this grand wisp. She focuses her sight on that wisp and… RECOILS. The girl’s wisp is certainly large and powerful. But it does not account for all the magical energy she’s emitting. Not even a fraction. As Regina pushes forward, she can see that wisp interlaced with a great internal structure running out from an illegible sigil in her arm. It creates, inside her, something like a full-body worb. But this worb is just a vessel. It contains none of the grinding structures devils use to milk wisp energy. Within this worb are numerous wisps. They are prey spirits from Earth. Regina’s eyes shift and she sees the girl’s shadow. Inside are various prey wisps and then she sees them — devils’ wisps! The girl has captured both prey wisps and devils’ wisps together. Their energy is feeding a massive vessel of energy shaped like a great chalice beneath the girl’s own larger wisp. From this, she flings the powerful explosions of magic Regina is now watching.

Regina doesn’t know how to process what she’s seeing. “That girl is a devil and a mage? She uses something like a worb?” She asks Reiza. “Is this what Orloxx couldn’t show me?”

Reiza foams at the mouth. His spectral body along the Web twitches. “It is not POSSIBLE,” Reiza proclaims, his eyes rolling in madness. “This sight is a blasphemy!”

Regina’s gut churns. She feels an unexpected tinge of sympathy for the Dark Psychic. All in Hell were devoted to Asmodeus, fanatical in the belief that devil-kind are exceptional due to their worbs. That worbs grant them the special privilege of preying on and profiting from the souls of lesser beings. Yet this mage — supposed to be the most desirable of devils’ prey — used something like a worb not for predation but for protection.

“Show me more!” Regina commands. The sight is gut-churning. Sets off a cascade of fear that runs through her in a novel jolt.

“You do not want to see. The wrongness!” Reiza is arching back, rebelling against what he senses further down the Web. Regina’s flick of her Holocaust Scourge in response is almost half-hearted. Reiza, propelled by another wave of pain, at last relents and pushes their Web-meshed senses forward in time. Regina watches the mad play of the girl’s wisp magic combine with the assault of forbidden forms — Plumacats, Mottles — and a pair of Blue Devils to slay Talith’s Lance. The display is brutal, stunning. Plumacats devouring dead devils on the lands they rule, the mage defiling worbs with her obscenly powered sword of light and shadow. An excess of wisps flooding back out, free. Then, Regina flinches as a Vila flies up to the mage, touches her hand in what looks like a lover’s caress, then draws deep from the mage’s housed wisp energy.

“That Vila is using wisps!!” Reiza rants as the sending from the Web freezes yet again.

“I can see that you moron! Now shut your mewling mouth and show me the rest!” Regina doesn’t have to flick her scourge again. Reiza’s flesh is already raw and pained from the first gentle lash. She can smell the fear rising off him. For once, she praises Asmodeus for the cowardice of her subject. With hands balled and eyes closed, Reiza pushes the vision forward. The Vila drinks deep from the mage’s magic. Thunderbolts rise around them as the Vila shapes more than forty forbidden forms from the wisps ripped out of the devils’ and Vortexes’ worbs. All in an instant! Some wisps still remain. Ten of these are from the dead devils themselves. With a shout and another flash of lightning, the Vila transfers these wisps into the worb-like structures within the mage’s shadow.

The vision continues, as devastation orbs from Regina’s scorpions begin to rain down and the mage gathers her force to flee.

“Enough!” Regina says. “I have seen enough!”

Reiza whimpers in relief as he backs them out from the Great Web. She lets go of him. He crumbles to the floor, simpering. “Thank you Lady. You are merciful.” He doesn’t sound at all sincere. Regina doesn’t care. Her thoughts are whirling.

“That mage. So young. Not even ripe for the plucking. Her wisp, still not full-grown. And yet she possesses a thing like a worb that lets her take wisps,” Regina whispers.

“Blasphemy! Great Asmodeus, it is Blasphemy!” Reiza shouts as his body lurches back and forth on the balcony floor. The guards’ gaze, which was set far off, now falls directly on Regina. Their faces display naked horror at her words.

Regina ignores them. To keep control of the situation, she must know the actual facts. Succumbing to the comforts of belief right now could be lethal. Letting her subjects steep in their shock and denial, she paces back toward the balcony as she speaks. “Some of these wisps are devils. So she even captures us.” The words sound so odd, so foreign, spilling from her mouth. But she can’t stop herself from talking. This discovery compels her with its awfulness to continue. “The mage holds wisps without hurting them. The wisps give energy freely to help her. A Vila uses the mage’s wisp energy to make forbidden forms — en masse.”

Those on the balcony with her are stunned into silence.

Regina looks out over the Wisp Fields. Beneath her, Dressler’s three Centuries have formed and are moving out toward Sunken Crag. Beyond, Lavross’s force lays ruined and defeated. A Lance of Vortexes fleeing back toward Dressler and four defunct scorpions — all that remains. “Now I know how she beat them.”

Trandix flies down to her cautiously. “My lady, if I may suggest, perhaps we should send word to Lanthver?”

Regina whirls on Trandix. “Why would we ask for aid from our chief rival? He’ll only exploit our weakness.”

“He is closest. The most likely to reach us should we…” The Uktena trails off. Surprisingly, his hint at a possible defeat doesn’t anger her. Regina considers.

“Ready my carriage,” she says at last. “If Dressler fails, we shall not throw ourselves on the mercy of Lanthver. We will instead retire to our estates in Mechanum where we will petition Asmodeus himself. This mage is…” She chooses her words carefully. “She represents a threat to all devil-kind. Hell’s High Lord must know of this. In the meantime, we shall ensure that we do not need to withdraw. That we…” she pauses again. “That we capture her and take her to Asmodeus ourselves for a gift. A prize.”

Those on the balcony continue to stare at her silence. The relinquishing of a mage wisp to another, even to Asmodeus, is a rare event. Yet Regina knew what they yet did not. This mage is too young to be taken. An unformed wisp like hers would not yield the same power in a worb. And the power she commanded was mostly not her own. The mage had stolen it from its rightful overseers — the devils.

“No. We shall cow this interloper. She shall bring her to heel. We shall present her to Asmodeus as our gift. When we do, we shall be celebrated as heroes across Minos!”

“It shall be so, great Lady,” Trandix hisses.

“Then go. Prepare my carriage.” Regina turns to Reiza. He’s finally standing again. Only lightly burned, he seems to have gathered himself well enough. “And you — send to Dressler. Tell him that our mage is a girl whose wisp is only aged seventeen years. Still unripe by its scent. Tell him to slay all her companions, then to bring her to me in chains. Tell him also that she has a Vila and the ability to rapidly increase her numbers. That she will assault him with a large group of forbidden forms. About eighty now. Possibly double that if she uses the wisps she finds.”

Reiza grits his teeth and closes his eyes against these uttered blasphemies. “And shall I tell him how the mage does this?”

“No. No need to disturb Dressler in his work. If he asks, just say that she uses a novel form of curse magic.”

“Thank you, Lady,” Reiza says in relief.

“Very well. Then do it.”

Reiza begins to close his eyes to access Asmodeus’s great web. It seems somehow defiled to him now after the horror it just bore witness to.

“Oh, and Reiza. Tell Dressler not to fail me.” She motions to the prone form of Orloxx, now still in death. “I will not take failure of any kind against this mage lightly.”

********

Dressler rides his gilded Vortex amidst the great gathering of Overseers forces. Its twin worbs wail with an excess of gathered power. His own worb swells with inky tendrils of dark power. In his hand, a spear of Hell glass. An obsidian colored metal mined directly from the heart of Infernian volcanoes.

Around him mass three Centuries. Each devil under his command torn from their frantic wisp harvesting efforts and shifted suddenly to an equally frantic response to a mage’s attack. The notion of a mage attacking a stronghold like Overseer Tower rankles. Mages are hunted. They are prey. Certainly strong prey capable of resisting. Yet they were unable to stand against the might of Hell. Made to flee when faced with the overwhelming force of Asmodeus’s power — his Curse Riders, his mighty millions upon millions of devils — each commanding the diabolical magic of multiple enslaved souls housed and bound within their worbs.

Not this mage. This mage. This girl, if the servile Dark Psychic, Slevelth, riding beside him were to be believed. Somehow, she’d gathered together a large force of forbidden forms. Somehow, she’d managed to use them in a coordinated series of attacks and ambushes to annihilate Lavross’s Century in a rampage through the Wisp Fields. Dressler knew well the dangers presented by forbidden forms. He was old enough to remember their attacks and the rebellions that spanned Minos for hundreds of years following Asmodeus’s first rise to Hell’s throne nearly three thousand years ago. Their attacks were brutal. Dressler blinks as he remembers the devils slain by the thousands. Consumed as Plumacats, Urdrake, Mottles, Vila, Bowflits and other, rarer forms lashed out against Asmodeus’s new dominion. Back then, there were no mages. Now, a mage had somehow taken command of these ancient enemies.

“Regina and Reiza touched the great Web,” Slevelth drawls. “They say the mage commands around eighty forbidden forms. They say she has a Vila and that somehow she can make more of them. Regina says to expect up to a hundred and sixty or more by the time we engage.”

Dressler scoffs. Slevelth has been blithering on like this for about five minutes. Half of what he says sounds like raving. “She says there is only one Vila?” He asks the cleric evenly.

Slevelth blinks his toad-like eyes, smacks his fat lips, seems incredulous. “Indeed. That’s what I’ve been telling you. It defies everything we know to be true.”

Dressler nods. “Perhaps our dear lady has taken some leave of her senses in the face of this unprecedented catastrophe.”

Slevelth extends a hoary finger covered in golden rings to his mouth as he considers. “Reiza wouldn’t intentionally misrepresent…”

“Yes. But this is battle. First reports are often confused.” Dressler snaps. He runs a hand through his blonde crop of hair sprouting up from glossy red-black skin, then tips his horns toward Slevelth indicating a deference to this cleric’s station that is lacking in any sincerity. “Your great Web may be perfectly accurate. But what others see through it is still subject to interpretation.” Dressler had been on the wrong end of the moronic clerics’ ‘interpretations’ numerous times in the past. He often found what the Dark Psychics saw and shared simply reflected their own biases.

“True,” Slevelth answers, scoops a bit of meat from between his teeth, considers it, then flicks it away. “Though I do not understand what would make Regina or Reiza give such reports. If inaccurate, they are vile blasphemies.”

Dressler pauses. “Yes. But fear of death in battle is often fodder for insane utterances. We shall work with what we know. If a scout can confirm these reports of sudden mass generation of forbidden forms, then we will act accordingly. Until then, let us not be paralyzed by fear of a phantom force that does not exist.”

Slevelth licks his lips, smacks them, draws a living squibble from the vat sloshing about on a chain hanging from his bulbous waist, shoves it into his mouth, bites down on the delicacy. “You are the battle commander…” CRUNCH, “…for a reason. I defer to your…” CRUNCH, “…illustrious experience.” Slevelth has made speaking with his mouth full a kind of grotesque performance art. Dressler had long-since grown used to averting his gaze from the spectacle of masticated bits of various creatures swirling around Slevelth’s words.

Dressler gives a stiff nod. “We shall take the Wisp Fields,” he says to Slevelth. “Send Gormak’s Century out ahead toward the rebels’ main group to the south. Only Vortexes. Keep his scorpions with the command base here. Tell Gormak to fix those rebels in place. Ready all our scorpions to destroy Lavross’s derelict scorpions once we get in range. Then have them hurl a suppression spread against the Urdrake near the Razor Hills. I want a flight of Uktena to ride ahead with Gormak. When he closes, I want them to jump in and use their poison bites to incapacitate the mage and her Vila. Then do the same with any others in the rebel command. Keep them alive for questioning. Kill the rest. Forward!” He says the last with a salute.

Slevelth rolls his bulbous eyes back into his toad head as he dutifully relays Dressler’s orders. Gormak’s Century roars off toward the bridge crossing at Sunken Crag. Dressler keeps his command center in the cluster of twelve scorpions. Around him swirl two Vortex Centuries held in reserve. Once they cross Sunken Crag, he’ll deploy these on the mage’s flanks. Dressler grudgingly admits this girl mage had surprised them so far. But now that her hand is revealed, her forces visible and counted, there is no escape for her. No way out.

“And Slevelth…”

“Yes, Overseer Dressler,” Slevelth hisses around the slobber in his mouth.

“If you will consult your Web to confirm the mage’s numbers. To make sure she doesn’t have any more hidden surprises, that would be most helpful.” Dressler doubted there was much truth to Regina and Reiza’s fearful ravings. But the mage had somehow concealed a sizeable force in the Wisp Fields and Razor Hills. Perhaps Slevelth could provide him with more reliable information instead of these rumors and ravings coming from Overseer. Not that he blamed Regina. Forbidden forms were well outside the context of such a young Hell Lord. Even the older devils, like him, retained only faded memories of those earlier, troubled years of Asmodeus’s first reign.

“Indeed, consider it done. All for the glory of Asmodeus.”

“For the glory of Asmodeus,” Dressler says evenly.

********

Corviss crawls, mostly blind, through the hot sands. Minutes before, he heard the loud Vortexes rush by. Saw Lavross out of the corner of one eye. Tried to jump. Landed in a nearby mound of scree. Now, with Lavross nowhere his Urdrake-ruptured senses can detect, he curses as he scrabbles toward the scorpions.

“Lavross!” He hisses despondently. At least the great machines are still lumbering toward him. He pops up onto a rise, spins his head to bring the great machines into his peripheral vision, then quivers in fear. No longer moving toward him, they lurch under a barrage of flashes coming from the Urdrake. The beasts must be closer now to effectively bring their heating and blinding rays down on the machines and their devil operators. Corviss can barely make out a smaller group of Vortexes beneath the scorpions. He’s gathering himself to scrabble toward them when they turn tail and flee.

“No!” Corviss hisses in despair. Then, in the distance, he hears the sound of approaching Vortexes. Glancing again at the scorpions, Corviss sees that Urdrake barrage has stopped. Did Lavross defeat the mage? Corviss spins toward the approaching Vortexes. They are loud. Numerous. It must be Lavross. Who else could it be?

********

I drive my stinking, wailing Vortex at the head of my motley formation. We shoot away from the gully and its carnage. The Wisp Fields surround us. Zaya, sitting in my lap, is drawing in what wisps we come across. They trail behind in a swarm of lights. About thirteen. But more join with each passing minute. My energetic vessel’s again past half full. I’ve got a big jolt coming in from all the extra wisps now huddled in the protective magic provided by my name curse from my battles along the gully. The three hundred and nine blaze like a liquid sun within me. There’s gonna be literal fucking Hell to pay for those devils at Overseer once I figure out what the fuck I’m gonna do with all this extra magic.

Our company of awful, wailing, headache producing, lung wrecking Vortexes steadily closes in on the scorpions. They stumble about like confused monsters who’ve suddenly lost whatever terrible will impelled them. One lays smoldering on the ground. I can see their crews now. They scramble back and forth, doing this weird, blind man’s bluff, series of movements as they fumble at controls or turn in disoriented circles. Some lay still, shot down by the Urdrake lights even at extreme range.

We’re running in toward the scorpions from about two miles off when I hear a yowl from a Plumacat as it angles off from our company.

“What the fuck?” I say to myself, then shouting louder after the Plumacat, I yell — “Stick together!”

The Plumacat ignores me. I recognize it as the ornery Rarhquick. Go figure. It’s a fucking cat… velociraptor… bird… thing… You get the picture. Shooting out to the left about three hundred yards, the errant Plumacat stops, leans down, then picks up something that looks like a flailing red ribbon. I don’t know what I’m looking at for a second and then I realize it’s the fucking flying red snake I had the Urdrakes shoot at earlier. It must be. It’s covered all over in scorch marks. With a giant, fang-filled, grin and what I imagine must be a gigantic purr, the Plumacat mounts back onto its Vortex, then races toward me with his prize held high.

“What’s going on?” Zaya says to me from where she’s crouched between my arms as she peers out to look at the Plumacat.

“Goddamn,” I reply. “I think we just captured our first effing prisoner.”

(New to the Helkey multiverse? Haven’t yet read the first chapter? You can find it here: Helkey 1 — The Memory Draught.)

(Looking for another chapter? Find it in the Helkey Table of Contents.)

(Enjoying the story? Want to help support the continuance of this tale? Please like, share and subscribe.)

Gish Optimized 5 — The Draconic Battle Sorcerer, Glede of Gloaming

Wow! It’s already time for another Gish Optimized episode. The time when we take a break from all our creative projects for a bit of D&D character optimization fun!

During our last three episodes, the Hexblade-Fighter, the classic Fighter-Mage, and the Cleric-Sorcerer, we explored three builds that each took a 1-3 level dip in a second class. For our newest bit of 5e Dungeons and Dragons character construction fun, we’re harkening back to a pure single-classed gish build. But unlike the stab and smite dexadin, this new draconic sorceress build is pretty heavy on the blast.

Glede of Gloaming

As a model for the draconic battle sorceress, I’m drawing heavily on Glede of Gloaming in the Rime of the Frostmaiden campaign series DM’d by Ted Burgess (YouTube list of live play episodes here). Storywise, Glede’s a punker street girl from the subdivision of Gloaming in Waterdeep. Her mother Aethelhorne, a golden dragon, married a Paladin of Bahamut named Rydan Redcrest. She lived her life with Rydan in human form and produced Glede as their only child. Aethelhorne met tragedy at the hands of Zhentarim dragon slayers and treasure hunters. They gained no profit from this murder as Aethelhorne had already donated her treasures to benefit the poor of Waterdeep. Aethelhorne’s loss drove Rydan into depression. Seeking drink as his only solace, he soon became an invalid and unfit guardian for Glede. Glede, still a child, turned to the streets of Waterdeep as a member of the Good Rats gang. Retaining the draconic blood of her mother and exhibiting its power as sorcery, Glede scraped out a living for herself and her father on the rough streets of Waterdeep.

Though human, Glede is covered in a thin patina of barely visible white-golden scales. Her hair is also-white-gold. Twin draconic horns sprout from her head. Her draconic eyes hint of the powerful flames she is able to conjure.

Glede’s Token from Rime of the Frostmaiden

Of course, you will probably wish to devise your own story for your battle sorcerer/sorceress. I simply provide Glede here as an example and to showcase how I’m setting up this character build in RP.

As an overview, our battle sorceress gish will have relatively high armor class values, she’ll possess cleric-range hit points, and she’ll wield some martial weapons to provide her with various melee opportunities in addition to possessing a powerful suite of blast spells. Though her primary strength is blast magic and area of effect, she’ll combine feats with sorcerer features and spells to enhance her abilities as a melee combatant.

Level 1 — Charisma, Dexterity, Constitution, Weapon Master, Variant Human, Draconic Sorcerer

OK! So let’s jump right in to our character build starting with ability scores! We’ll be taking Sorcerer all the way to level 20 so there’s little surprise regarding our starting stat. You guessed it, we’ll be going ahead and dumping 9 points, using the point buy system, into Charisma. This gives us a 15 in our primary spellcasting stat right from jump and before applying any racial modifiers. That’s pretty key as we’ll be throwing down a lot spells. These will primarily be blast spells, powerful single target attacks, and powerful defensive buffs. Charisma’s a cornerstone to all this magical might. It also helps us make friends and build alliances through our battle sorceress’s winning personality. We can also be a bit tricksy, given our high Deception skill.

Moving quickly on to our other main stat, we go ahead and dump 9 more points into Dexterity. This gives us a 15 Dex before we add any ability bonuses from Human. And we’re going to need it as we look to the rapier for most of our melee attacks barring access to some potent belts of strength or gauntlets of ogre power. It’s worth noting that Dexterity is also pretty key for us as we attempt to gain higher AC values — helping us wade into melee with confidence.

For our third stat, we pick Constitution. We’re going to want to be tough enough to stand near the front and take some heat in battle. Con also helps us with those crucial concentration checks. And we’re going to be concentrating on spells rather often. For starters, we dump 5 points into Constitution, giving us a 13.

After spending most of our points on Cha, Dex, and Con, we only have 4 points left for Str, Int, and Wis. I’m partial to having higher Intelligence and Wisdom. So I’m putting two points in each for 10 Intelligence and 10 Wisdom. Our Strength becomes a dump stat at 8.

We’ve got our base ability scores for our battle sorceress set. So now we move onto race. Though we could go elf or half-elf, I’m relatively partial to human for this build. For me, it provides the flavor I’m looking for. Elf or Half Elf will give similar options — particularly by gaining access to Elfin Weapon Training. So if you prefer to go fey for your battle sorceress — have at!

Human grants us a number of key benefits. As a variant, we gain an extra skill proficiency. We also gain a feat. For this feat, I’m taking the half-feat Weapon Master. This feat allows us to increase our Dexterity or Strength by 1. With Str as a dump stat, we go ahead and bump Dexterity up to 16. The feat also gives us proficiency in four martial weapons of our choice. I’m choosing the rapier, the longsword, and the greatsword for melee weapons and the longbow for a ranged option. These choices give us a good mix. We’ll primarily focus on the rapier. But longsword and greatsword grant us access to strength-based weapons should we find a belt or a set of magical gauntlets to bump our strength up. Depending on campaign, you may want to ask you DM for a switch. For example, Glede has a laser rifle in Frostmaiden. That’s a nice thing to have, particularly when combined with Haste and Quicken Spellcasting (see below).

Human Variant also gives us two +1s to add to any of our starting abilities. We go ahead and assign these to Constitution and Charisma. Now our full starting array is Str 8, Con 14, Dex 16, Int 10, Wis 10, Cha 16. Solid! We’re tough, fast, and we’ve got Charisma!

Class… What can we say about it??? What we say is we’re going Draconic Sorcerer and never looking back! From jump, this class and subclass combo gives us some amazing abilities. We pick golden dragon subtype because it fits our RP flavor and it’s just made up of frigging awesome. Starting with our draconic features, we gain a scaley skin that grants us a 13 base AC plus our Dexterity modifier for a total of 16 AC unarmored. Nice! For cantrips, we take Firebolt, Greenflame Blade, Light and Booming Blade. For level 1 spells we pick Shield and Magic Missile. We’re light on AOE right now. But that changes pretty fast as we level up. Draconic also gives us +1 to hit points so we start out with 9. The combination of 16 AC, 9 HP, and the ability to cast Shield makes us surprisingly tough at level 1 for a caster. Once we gain access to a rapier, we’re pretty happy to wade into melee and spam Greenflame Blade attacks all over the place. But be careful. We’re not a barbarian. So don’t get over zealous.

For starting equipment, we take a dagger or two, pick up an arcane focus, and get a kit with a hammer and some pitons. We’ll want to buy a rapier as soon as possible. If we can swing a rapier purchase with starting resources, even better.

Greenflame Blade is a very effective melee attack in the hands of a draconic sorcerer with fire affinity and quicken spell. Image by WoldyBoldy.

For our battle sorceress, I’m moving away from Strixhaven backgrounds. I understand there’s some controversy in the community over balance RE Strixhaven. So I’m going to steer clear for this build. I went ahead and picked up Urchin for my Glede RP persona — which provides cool flavor and some nice features. But that’s not core to the build so feel free to pick what you like.

Level 2 — Thunderwave, Sorcery Points

We were pretty tough at level 1. We get a bit tougher by level 2 even as we add some blast to our sorcerer mojo. Our HP jumps to 16 — which is just 2 behind a cleric with the same attributes. We now also have 3 first level spell slots to our name. Picking up Thunderwave gives us some much-needed blasts. Between Shield, Magic Missile, and Thunderwave we have a spell option for most battle occasions at level 2. Sorcery Points also give us the ability to effectively cast 4 level 1 spells each day. Not too shabby. By level 2 we’ve probably picked up a rapier and possibly even a longbow. It’s worth noting that this build is as fun to play as it is simple and compact. And there’s a kind of elegance in that simplicity.

Level 3 — Metamagic, Shatter, Retraining Thunderwave to Absorb Elements

By level 3, we’re starting to really access our battle sorcerer mojo. We got 2 Sorcery Points at level 2. By level 3, these increase to 3. We also now gain the wonderful thing that is Metamagic. For our battle sorceress we’re looking for two things — added power to our blasts and action economy. So as our Metamagic options we pick Quicken Spell and Empower Spell. A lot of folks pick Twin Spell in addition to Quicken. This is also an amazing option. However, we’re looking to boost damage from our blasts so we’re taking Empower instead. It’s worth noting that empower is also low-cost compared to Twin — which can really burn through your Sorcery points quick. Now with Quicken Spell we gain access to a mini NOVA comparable to the Fighter’s Action Surge. At this point, we’re only able to use Quicken once per day. But with it we can do things like cast Shatter for 13.5 damage as a bonus action, then cast Greenflame Blade for 1d8+3 or 7.5 damage with our rapier. That totals 21 or 25.5 on a crit against a single target, 13.5 for the Shatter +3 for the splash damage from Greenflame Blade for 16.5 on a second target, and another 13.5 damage on maybe one or two other targets. In addition, we can empower Shatter to boost that damage even further. Not too shabby! We already mentioned Shatter — which we take for our level 2 spell slot. Now we have big blasts, some of the best defensive spells in the game at low level, action economy, the ability to boost our blast damage, and a little focus fire. We’re sitting pretty.

Level 4 — Misty Step and 18 Dexterity

At level 4 we boost our Dexterity to 18. This bumps our base armor class to 17 even as we jump to +4 to hit and damage with our rapier attacks. When we trigger the Shield spell our AC boosts all the way to 22. Our defenses aren’t as high as a bladesinger, for example. But our hit points are now 30 — four ahead of the bladesinger base at this level of 26. To this point, we may have also used Sorcerous Versatility to retrain Magic Missile to False Life — granting us access to temporary hit points for increased durability. Regardless, we also trade out Thunderwave for Absorb Elements. For our spell choice, we pick Misty Step for the added mobility. We’re going to want to save our 3 level 2 spell slots for Shatters. But if we need to teleport out of the maw of some nasty beast, across a deadly obstacle course, or out of a trap, the option is open to us.

Level 5 — Fireball!

As we reach level 5, we gain access to some substantial benefits. First, Greenflame Blade boosts our melee attacks to 2d8+4 damage together with a potential 1d8+3 splash damage. With Quicken Spell, we can make this attack again using our bonus action. Our hit points are now 37 — so we continue to be a rather tough caster. But the big boost for this level comes with our access to Fireball. With two spell slots and our sorcery points, we can now cast this powerful spell three times. It’s worth noting that some campaigns will feature monsters with fire resistance at this level. So your mileage may vary. But for most campaigns, when you combine sorcery points, Empower Spell metamagic, and Fireball, you’re one of the most potent blasters in the game at this level. Meanwhile, your melee capability is a solid backup to your blasting specialty.

Level 6 — Haste and Elemental Affinity

At level 6, we pick up Haste. This spell provides another powerful boost to our melee capability. Particularly if we’ve picked up a magical rapier or various strength items together with a magical greatsword. We also gain Elemental Affinity — which now adds 3 fire damage from our Charisma modifier to our fire attacks thanks to our gold dragon ancestry. Now our Fireball and Greenflame Blade attacks are even more potent. Together with Haste and Quicken Spell, we’ve also gained access to a spell+melee NOVA combination. To achieve this NOVA, we cast Haste on round 1. Then on round 2, we cast Fireball using Quicken Spell, with our attack action we cast Greenflame Blade, and then with our Hasted action we attack with our rapier. Against a single target failing its Fireball save, we do 8d6+3+2d8+7+1d8+4 damage for a total average of 54.5. If Greenflame Blade crits, this average boosts to 63.5. On a second target, we do 8d6+3+1d8+3 from Fireball and then from the splash damage applied by Greenflame Blade for a total average of 37.5 damage if the target fails its Fireball save. Not to mention the other targets you just did 30.5 average damage to from Fireball. A rather potent NOVA round that we can further enhance through Empower Spell. Elemental Affinity also gives us resistance to fire damage for a sorcery point — which is a nice added rider to all the wonderful benefits we’ve gained thus far.

Level 7 — Sickening Radiance

By level 7, we now access more choices. Thus far, we’ve relied on elemental damage — particularly fire damage — for our blast effects. For fall-back, we’ve taken Shatter, Booming Blade and, to a lesser extent, Magic Missile (if we didn’t retrain Magic Missile to False Life). Now, with access to 4th level spells, we choose the long-lasting Sickening Radiance. Accessing radiant damage through this spell is a key enabler for us against various resistant foes. It also gives us a large area denial effect. For the most part, though, we continue to rely on Haste and Fireball. But if faced with a horde of fire resistant foes or an immune big bad, we now have a fall-back that we can maintain over multiple combat rounds.

Level 8 — Fireshield, 18 Charisma, Counterspell

Level 8 gives another ASI. We immediately use it to dump 2 points into Charisma — boosting our key spellcasting stat to 18. Now we deal +4 damage with our fire spells and our spell save DCs boost to 15. This ability bump grants both our Fireball and Greenflame Blade attacks some extra juice. We also pick up Fireshield both for its long duration reactive 2d8 fire or cold damage and for fire or cold resistance. Combined with Shield, Elemental Affinity, and Absorb Elements, Fire Shield adds to significant suite of defensive magic. We can also now concurrently deploy three energy resistance options. Our hit points are also a cleric-range 58 without magical supports. Last of all, we’re going to retrain Magic Missile or False Life for Counterspell — keeping the ability to shut down enemy magic in our back pocket.

Level 9 — Summon Draconic Spirit

Accessing 5th level spells as we reach our 9th character level, we choose the amazing Summon Draconic Spirit. This spell grants us the ability to summon a powerful spirit dragon. It has 50 hit points, it’s large, possesses a fly speed of 60, has blindsight, is capable of delivering two melee attacks and a breath weapon attack, and it has a 19 AC when cast at 5th level. We must concentrate on this spell. However, so long as we concentrate, it lasts for a full hour. For my Glede RP persona, this draconic spirit will emulate her mother — Aethelhorne. Our draconic spirit grants us some pretty amazing consistent damage in the form of 2d6+18 from its dual rend attacks plus 2d6 from its 30 foot cone breath weapon. If we attack with Greenflame Blade, we’re adding 2d8+8 and 1d8+4 splash damage to a second target. It’s a potent combo that delivers 49 damage to a single target, 15.5 damage to a secondary target and 7 points of damage to numerous creatures in a zone. If we quicken a level 4 fireball into this set, we deal 83.5 damage to a single target (92.5 damage on a crit), 50 damage to a secondary target and 41.5 damage to multiple additional targets caught in the overlapping zones from fireball and dragon breath.

Summon Draconic Spirit conjures the mighty spirit of a dragon to join you in battle. Image source: Spell Rankings for Fizban’s Treasury of Dragons.

Level 10 — Transmuted Spell, Cone of Cold

With level 10 comes another Metamagic choice. And boy do we love Transmuted Spell which allows us to change our non-fire spells into devastating flaming conflagrations. On our present list, we can now change Shatter to a 3d8+4 (17.5 average on a failed save) 10 foot radius blast of flame. Transmuted Spell also allows us to switch our Fireballs for balls of Thunder, Lightning, Cold or Acid if we run into one of the many enemies resistant or immune to fire damage. Transmuted Spell comes at the perfect level for us to pick Cone of Cold for our spell list. This huge, 60-foot cone deals 8d8 cold damage to creatures caught in its freezing blast wave. Transmuted to fire, our draconic battle sorceress deals an extra +4 fire damage for an average of 40.5 fire damage to foes in this cone of devastation.

Level 11 — Chain Lightning, Increased Cantrip Damage

By level 11 our cantrips again bump up in power. Now, our Greenflame Blade rapier attacks deal 3d8+8 damage to a single target (21.5) and splash 2d8+4 (13) damage to a secondary target. With Quicken Spell, we can double that. Level 11 also gives us level 6 spells. We pick up Chain Lightning for 12d6 lightning damage (40.5) against up to five targets. Transmuting this to fire bumps the multi-target damage on a failed save to 44.5. Of course, we might just want to up-cast Summon Draconic Spirit to level 6. Doing that, we gain a 60 HP, 20 AC dragon with three rend attacks that each average 13.5 damage on a hit (40.5) and the ability to breathe for an additional 7 average damage to multiple targets. Quickening a transmuted Cone of Cold on top of these dragon attacks and casting Greenflame Blade with our action deals 81+21.5+7 for 110 damage to a single target target that fails all three saves, 123 damage on a crit. A secondary target takes 40.5+7+13 or 60.5 damage from the two AOEs and the splash damage from Greenflame Blade. Other targets in the overlapping Cone of Cold (fire) and dragon breath take 47.5 damage on a failed save. A notably strong single target NOVA overlapping a pretty devastating blast.

Level 12 — Elemental Adept

We waited a long time to ignore resistance to fire damage. As level 12 rolls around, we finally address this chink in our AOE devastation by picking up Elemental Adept — Fire as a feat. Now all 1’s count as 2’s on spells’ fire damage dice. In addition, yep, you guessed it, we ignore fire resistance when casting Fireball, transmuted Cones of Cold, Shatters, and Chain Lightnings. Even our humble Greenflame Blade attacks now ignore fire resistance. Rolls of 1s counting as 2s also increases our average damage. The aforementioned Greenflame Blade now averages 22.5 damage netting +1. Fireballs cast at level 3 do 36 rather than 32. A fire-transmuted Cone of Cold does 44 average damage instead of 40. The mighty fire-transmuted Chain Lightning averages 52 instead of 46. If our dragon spirit breathes fire, it now adds an overlapping AOE to these blasts that increases damage by 8 (12 on the first shot due to the sorcerer Elemental Affinity ability) on a failed save (instead of 7). We can further bump these high averages by using Empower Spell metamagic. Our suite of blasts now deliver consistent devastation against foes. Meanwhile, Transmuted Spell and Elemental Adept allows us to circumvent or overcome most enemy resistances.

Level 13 — Draconic Transformation

Our AOEs just got a big boost at level 12. They’re taking another jump now as we pick up Draconic Transformation at Level 13. Another concentration spell, this powerful magical buff grants us aspects of a dragon overlapping our present physical form. We gain blindsight. We sprout wings and gain a fly speed of 60 feet. Even better, though, we can now use a bonus action to breathe a 60 foot cone of magical force that deals 6d8 damage. On the round we use a bonus action to cast this spell, we breathe our cone for 27 average damage, then we use our action to attack with Greenflame Blade for 22.5 average damage for 49.5 damage to a single target, 40 damage to a secondary target, and 27 damage to multiple targets if they fail their save. A concentration spell, this effect primarily enables our blasts, however. On a subsequent round, we might cast a fire-transmuted Cone of Cold (44 average) on top of the force blast as a bonus action (27 average) for a total of 71 average on two failed saves within these overlapping 60 foot cones. Dropping an fire-transmuted Chain Lightning nets 79 damage. Even casting the now somewhat ‘humble’ Fireball into such an over-lapping zone averages 63 damage on a failed save. Draconic Transformation thus gives us a means to provide a major consistent boost to our larger AOEs. On the flip side, Summon Draconic Spirit is still the king of focus fire for our battle sorceress.

Level 14, 15, 16 — Dragon Wings, Sun Burst, 20 Charisma

Between Draconic Transformation and Summon Draconic Spirit, we have multiple means of accessing flight. Now, at level 14, we can sprout Dragon Wings for non-spell source flying at our base movement speed. This innate feature is welcome as we remove concentration-based dependence on flying. Plus we don’t need to worry about armor restrictions as we continue to rely on our Dexterity and draconic scales for our AC.

Level 15 grants us access 8th level spells. We pick up Sun Burst for its huge radius and ability to blind our enemies. However, we’ve got some competition for our 8th level spell slot as Summon Draconic Spirit gives us an 80 HP, 22 AC dragon capable of making four melee attacks at 15.5 damage each for a total of 70 damage when adding in its breath weapon. With Greenflame Blade active, we deal 92.5 damage to a single target, 22 damage to a secondary target and 8 damage to multiple targets on a failed save. Quickening a fire-transmuted Chain Lightning into this mix and critting with the Greenflame Blade nets us 107 + 52 for 159 against a single target, 74 damage against a secondary target, and 60 against multiple targets if saves fail. Brutal!

At level 16 we bump our Charisma to 20. This further increases our save DCs, adds more damage to our fire-based spell attacks, and helps us with our RP mojo even more. Greenflame Blade now does 14.5+9 for 23.5 damage without magic item support and all our fiery bursts just got that much more potent.

Level 17-20 Meteor Swarm, Distant Spell, Draconic Presence, 20 Dexterity, and Sorcerous Restoration

Hitting level 17, we access Meteor Swarm. This is an extraordinarly powerful AOE. In our hands, it’s even more devastating — doing an average of 155 damage on a failed save (vs 140 for a ‘normal’ casting). If we Empower Meteor Swarm, we might average 160 or more on a failed save. We also pick up another meta magic ability. I’m partial to Distant Spell at this level. Distant Counterspell, for example, is a clutch way to shut down enemy spellcasters at 65 to 90 feet away while outranging their own Counterspell options. In addition, we’re keeping to our theme of low cost meta-magic so we can continue to throw down powerful enhancements to our spells over longer periods of time.

Level 18 gives us Draconic Presence. Mass fear or charm can be extremely useful given the situation. But it costs us 5 sorcery points and our concentration, which makes it less useful. At level 19 we max out our Dexterity at 20. Our Greenflame Blade attacks now do an average of 29.5 and splashes for 20 damage without magic item support. Finally, level 20 brings us Sorcerous Restoration — which means we get 4 sorcery points back on a short rest. Now we’re gonna have to work pretty hard to burn all those meta-magic points!

Though our battle sorceress is a capable melee combatant, her main strength is laying down powerful fiery blasts. Image source: Pintrest.

For a final tally, let’s provide some examples of focus fire and AOE NOVAs. For focus fire, we Summon Draconic Spirit at level 8 for a total of 70 average damage from rend and breath weapon. We quicken and empower Meteor Swarm for 160. Then we use our regular action to cast Greenflame Blade for 29.5. This nets us 259.5 average damage assuming failed saves and 279 on a crit — without magic item support. For our AOE NOVA, we simply apply our Draconic Transformation on round 1, then cast an empowered Meteor Swarm on round 2. Now we do 187 average damage to multiple targets on a failed save. Though it’s worth noting that with Draconic Spirit, and the above focus fire NOVA we’re still doing 168 to multiple targets. So not a huge difference.

Turning to mostly melee, Glede is a pretty simple striker at high levels. For most optimal, long duration melee fights, Glede will conjure her mother’s Draconic Spirit Aethelhorne. Riding this large summons into battle, Glede will attack with Greenflame Blade for 29.5 damage — often twice with Quicken Spell for 29.5-59 average damage. Her Draconic spirit summons will deal an additional 62 damage if all attacks land plus 8 from breath weapon. This combination does 99.5-129 damage to a single target if all attacks land. Very solid.

We’ve talked a lot about damage — and well we should considering that this build focuses heavily on blasting the enemy to smithereens while laying waste with our Greenflame Blade — but let’s finish off by looking a bit at our battle sorceress’s survivability. By level 20, without magic item support, we have a solid 142 Hit Points, a base AC of 18 which jumps to 23 with Shield, and the ability to access numerous resistances. For mobility we have access to three forms of flight, one form comes from our very own set of dragon wings which we can unfurl without the use of a spell. We keep Misty Step for teleporting. But at level 19, for added versatility, we likely retrain one of our spells for Wish and another for Teleport. Our core, though, is blasting with a hefty side of Greenflame Blade bashing. And for consistent blasts, this build is probably our best so far.

Our Battle Sorceress Build is Now Complete!

So that finalizes our battle sorceress. For my part, the Glede of Gloaming build is one of my favorites. It might not have the options and higher pure power potential of our classic Fighter-Mage — Gaelya the Ghost. It’s not as tough as our Hexblade-Fighter — Beatrice Lushael. And Glede isn’t so single target NOVA-focused as our Dexadin — Morgen Schnee. But for consistently throwing down powerful blasts while also retaining the ability to melee like a champ, it’s tough to beat good ol’ Glede. I’ve played her through three different campaign series now and she never disappoints. Plus, her happy-go-lucky nature despite a tragic background makes her a very enjoyable character to play. I hope you get as much enjoyment out of this build as I have! If you want to watch Glede in action, you can join me on Twitch Saturdays about once every three weeks for our Rime of the Frostmaiden game. Or you can check out our livestream archive here.

Helkey 32 — Battle of Sunken Crag, Thunderbolts Rise

The Vortex’s warbling quiets as I pull up to the scattering of Hell-bikes. Moonshadow blade in hand, I leap from the Vortex. “Good riddance! Nasty thing!” I shout as I kick it over, slashing its worb in half. Two handfuls of wisps flow out in a viscous gush of fossil fuel crap. The wisps lift. Finally liberated from the worb. It lays broken on the ground. A dark sphere whose insides remind me of razors, geodes and reaction chambers. The wisps rise up. Sluggish. Beleaguered. Relieved. I run to another Vortex, cut its wisps free, then pivot to smash a devil’s worb, move on to the next. In a half minute of flurried activity, all twenty-odd worbs are broken. About a hundred wisps drift around me. I’m swimming in a soup of souls.

Plumacats pause in their devouring rampage. Their raptor gaze tracks me. I’m doing my best to ignore their feast. It sickens. A fierce justice. What did Grimjaw say? Something about preying on predators. I turn to Zaya, she’s right behind me, a hopeful expression overlays the desperation on her face. Her eyes reflect fire blazing from the meteor-like orbs rising from the distant scorpions, arcing toward my poor Urdrakes. They’re running flat out again. I can hear Zorfang’s raspy breathing through omnis scientia. All as out on the Wisp Fields, the distant Vortex-wail from the main group of devils grows louder. Though it’s still faint, I figure they’ll be on top of us in less than ten minutes.

I reach my hand out to Zaya. “Are you ready?”

Zaya takes a breath, sings a brief note to draw the collection of wisps in closer. “Yes.” The word is soft. Like telling a secret. She grabs my hand. Hers is so tiny. Fragile as a flower. I fold it into mine, focus on my energetic vessel. It’s nearly doubled in size since I last focused my mage sight upon it. Despite my excessive use of magic, it’s still three quarters full. More energy than I know what to do with. Except for this — liberating souls from goddamn devils. Gifting them with a second life and the ability to fight back. I feel the spark run between myself and Zaya as our energies merge. Mottle quivers on my back. He senses the energy too.

“Ready. Let’s make it right.”

Zaya smiles, sings words like the wind, the rain. Words I cannot understand, but in my mind I see them as the vital songs of glaciers. Of deep fjords. Of cold, teeming oceans. Zaya’s is the song of a living world. Not this tortured place — choking on its own poisoned spew and vomit. The sparks between us lift. My energetic vessel forms a wave of magical force. It explodes outward in streaks of lightning rising into the green Hell sky. Painting the pre-dawn night in an instant of white. Wisps around us are taken in by the flashes. They elongate, forming translucent glowing sacks that bulge into flesh. Feathers sprout. Horns and shells elongate or harden. Bat-like tapestries spread. The light fades. I’m momentarily blind. When my eyes adjust, ten new Urdrake, fifteen Mottles and eighteen Plumacats stand, flop, or crouch before me. Our force of thirty-seven has now grown to eighty. I shift my magical sight back to my energetic vessel. It’s still about a quarter full.

Zaya’s song continues. She took more than last time. I now have far more to give. She’s not using any of her own reserves. She’s alert, her bright eyes lighting up with the sparks of our magical embrace. Her song shifts, swirling in the dark wisps passed over by her music. They bleed into my shadow in a flood. It bulges, spouts tendrils, forms wicked shapes that would make for great Halloween costume fodder back home. Here in Hell, it’s more than a little freaky. Like my shadow’s about to eat me up. Maybe it wants to. One hundred and forty eight dark wisps now lurk behind me. Seventeen bright wisps dance in my name curse. My energetic vessel, now nearly empty after Zaya’s final use of my magic, begins to rapidly fill. I sway in the heat. Magic’s outrush has left me light-headed. The in-rush — buzzing.

I scan the gradual land depression where we stand. We’re somewhat hidden. Though I don’t think the oncoming devils got a direct view of what Zaya and I just did, they sure as Hell saw that light show. Shit’s going to be coming at us fast and hard now. I look at the new-formed as they stare back at Zaya and me with eyes filled with love and wonder. We don’t have time to talk it all out with them. I’ve got maybe a minute before I need to get everyone moving again. Suddenly, the scorpions light up, flinging four more Hell balls. These rise along a new path. I don’t have to glance for more than a moment to see they’re heading directly toward us. Yeah. They saw our magical lights all right. I’d hoped Zorfang would get into position in time to start attacking the scorpions by now. But he’s still running flat out from under the second volley of Hell balls.

I touch Mottle as I lurch back from my magical embrace with Zaya. I need you to get the other Mottles. Tell them to fly over to the new-formed. Give them as much of what we know as they can in about a minute. Do it on the run!

Mottle hesitates. You are weak, he thinks in his matter-of-fact way.

“Yes,” I reply out loud. “No help for it. Now go so you can get back to me fast.”

Mottle flits off. His leaving sets me reeling. I didn’t realize how much he was supporting me physically. Now I feel like I weigh about a thousand pounds. I can barely stand without him. Mottle lands on Zephyr. They both vibrate, calling in the other Mottles. All from our thirty seven fly over. The new-formed Mottles hesitate a moment and then respond to the vibration. Soon there’s a huge pile of Mottles all sharing their thought-touch. I turn to the non-Mottles.

“We gotta run.” I point to the sky at the meteors gradually rising. “That is our destruction. Featherstar! You gather the new-formed Plumacats, run to the end of that gully.” I point to the crevice from which our ambushing scouts emerged. “Wait for the rest of us to catch up. It’ll provide enough cover.” I hope it’ll provide enough damn cover. The crevice’s deeper portion is about a quarter mile away. Featherstar doesn’t hesitate, she nods acknowledgement, meow-talks a few commands to her group, then pairs up to guide the newformed and wounded as they run off together. The new-formed lope out on shaky legs, slowing them down. The two wounded Plumacats, now off their bikes, limp but manage to keep pace as healthy cats help them along. Their movement is still faster than I could run flat out. They’re Plumacats after all.

I shoo Theri and Zel along after them. They don’t have their nasty Vortex bikes anymore. So they’re going to have to haul ass to keep up with the Plumacats. They seem to realize this. After a quick glance between them, they’re off — trailing behind the sleek, quick predators. Zaya hovers near me. She’s blinking in confusion. I can tell she’s afraid but wants to hang back with me.

“What are you looking at?” I ask her. “Why aren’t you gone yet?”

Zaya approaches, touches my head. “But…” she trails off. She can see I’m swaying on my feet. She’s clearly worried about me and is terrified at the same time as the giant Hell balls gradually close in.

I grab her hand, touched by her concern despite myself. “I’ll be OK, Zaya. I’m a tough girl. Now go on. I want you with those Plumacats!” I motion to the swiftly receding black-feathered forms of the velociraptor-tigers. Zaya at last relents. With a sigh, she flies off, her iridescent wings forming a rainbow blur around her in the growing orange glow.

“You’d better be there!” she shouts over her shoulder as she flies off.

I blow out a sigh. What’s it about Zaya that makes me feel so… here? She’s got this unique ability to connect. To show care and concern. I shake my head, forcing my thoughts back to the present emergency. The Mottles have all finished their thought-transfer thing. As one, they flap off like a swarm of bats from their roost at eventide. Mottle returns to me. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Yeah. Hell is too goddamn hot without Mottle to keep me cool. I don’t even think I can breathe this foul air without him. I’ll need to work up some kind of magic to keep me standing at some point. I’m no friggin’ expert on healing magic like auntie Sadie, though. So I’ll be blundering around in the magical darkness. First things first. Don’t get burned up by the devils’ weaponized versions of soul meteors.

The Mottles are chasing around some fearful Urdrakes. I lift my hand. “It’s OK,” I shout to the Urdrakes. “They won’t hurt you!” The ten Urdrakes stop to blink at me. I’m not sure they’re cluing in on what I’m saying. But they slow down enough for the Mottles to land. The words cost me. My head swims again. I bend at the waist, grab my knees. My heart’s racing. I feel like I’m having some kind of heat-induced asthma attack. Goddamn, I’m so fucking lagging right now.

“Ouch! Wow! That feels so much better!” Mottle just landed on my back and bit-fed the effing daylights out of me. Headrush! Whew! Do I feel stronger! Mottle is like a goddamn flying medic and food source combined. His bite IV injections nourish, rejuvenate, stimulate. “Thanks,” I say to him. He says you’re welcome by quivering. In the time it’s taken me to absorb the nutrition and energy Mottle’s injecting into me, the other Mottles have filled the Urdrakes in enough on present events to have scared the living daylights out of them.

Three point toward the sky. One haroooms out the word “Death!”

“Yes! Good! We’re going to run like all get-out! Follow me!” I shout, then hop-glide about a hundred feet down into the gully. Its rough terrain blurs by below me. I land on a boulder. My breath’s still rasping, my heart’s still hammering. But Mottle’s taken the edge off. The other Mottles flap in beside me. They start to land. “Go! Go!” I shout to them, motioning to the Plumacats running away up ahead. The Mottles land, give me a vibrational quiver conveying reassurance and acknowledgement, then flap off fast toward the Plumacats. It takes about ten seconds for the Urdrake to catch up. When they do, I flap off about another hundred feet as Mottle turns me into the Myra version of a flying squirrel.

Overhead, the orange light of the Hell balls grows brighter. I look up and no longer see burnt up marshmallows. I’m now reminded of effing planet-bombs from that old anime Dad loves to watch — Starblazers. Yeah. The frigging devil “Gamilons” are raining down fucking planet bombs on my head. I shout at the Urdrake to move faster. They are running as flat-out as their stubby turtle legs will carry them. I’ve made about six of my flying squirrel jumps. We’re still about halfway from the gully’s end. I can feel the heat from the falling Hell balls on the back of my neck. I can feel it on Mottle too. He’s kind enough to share his heat feeling. I’m grateful-not-grateful. We’re not going to make it.

“Find cover!” I shout as the Urdrake rush up. The giant orange balls fall toward the broken wreckage of devil bodies and Vortexes some seven hundred feet away. I motion for them to jump behind rocks. They get it — flopping down behind boulders and into low spots. Doing the turtle thing, they draw their heads and legs into their shells. Cool. Wish I could do that. I jump down behind a rock. Mottle flops over me like a big, fleshy blanket. It makes me feel safe for a second. I push my senses out through omnis scientia. Hell if I’m gonna die, I might as well enjoy the show, right?

Four gigantic fireballs explode in the air about fifty feet above the wreckage from our last battle. A blast wave as a visible fucking wall of air and debris rips the place apart — flinging earth, bodies, the broken bikes in every frigging direction. A rapidly expanding ball of fire follows. I literally see rocks the size of cars disintegrate into bits as that fireball rips through them. With a roar that causes me to yell and grab my ears, the shockwave and fireball rushes toward us. It destroys every fracking thing in about the radius of a city block. Beyond that, it hurls a rain of debris. By the time the shockwave hits us, it’s slowed down to like category four hurricane force. Rocks the size and shape of knives fly over us. Sand and dirt blast around us. Mottle quivers from the force. It lasts a moment that seems like forever. Then a second blast wave hits us — sucking back toward the center of the goddamn explosion. Jesus fucking Christ! These things are goddamn nuclear! Once the second blast wave is gone, with my ears ringing in the tinnitus aftermath, I gather myself. I stand up. My limbs are all there. Mottle’s got some bad scratches. But he’s good too. We chose our boulder well. Its front face has literal shards of frigging red-hot rock embedded into it.

Positions of Myra’s Rebels and Devils of Overseer Tower during the Battle of Sunken Crag, Thunderbolts Rise

Now I know why Zorfang was so frigging distressed.

I motion to the Urdrake. “Better move!” I shout. My voice sounds quiet to me. Lucky if I didn’t get my eardrums blown clean out. Nine Urdrake stand, sprouting legs, arms, tails, head from out of shells. One doesn’t get up. Still laying face down on the ground. Too far out in the open, it got shredded by three large bits of shrapnel. Busted right through his shell and now he’s bleeding out. Oh fuck! I hop-glide over to the place where the turtle-monster lays. Arrive in time to hear his death rattle. My magical sight pierces his dying flesh, sees the wisp fading beneath. With a quick motion, I draw my moonshadow blade from the air. I’d never halted the magic feeding it. It leaps into my hand. I lay it flatwise across the Urdrake, extending its light and shadow to his wisp.

“Come on. Take it. There’s shelter here.” I lift my name-curse over him. It’s constantly shedding sparks now. Can’t be helped. Too much magical energy’s flowing through me to not be bleeding off major excess. Ignarus is mostly an after-thought. So pretty much everyone sees me for what I am. A mage blazing with magical energy.

The Urdrake’s wisp flickers, almost goes out, then lifts. Drawn by the moonshadow blade’s pull, it rides up the magic-formed sword and passes into my name curse. A bright wisp, if somewhat small and shrunken. The other bright wisps within my name curse cluster around it protectively, granting some of their energy to support it. I breathe out a sign. “I almost lost ya there. That’s good. Now take a rest. You’ve earned it.”

The other Urdrake are staring at me. Their mood is one of combined wonder and relief. I stand, dust some of the crud off. “Alright! We’re all safe or accounted for! Let’s move!” The Urdrake haroom acknowledgement. Then, together, we start running like Hell again. In about a minute, we’ve linked up with the Plumacats and Mottles. Our group of seventy-nine devil slayers is again mostly unscathed after the ambush and incoming fire. One loss — a new Urdrake, not five minutes alive, whose wisp I managed to make safe. It’s a loss I’m feeling pretty hard. And there are bound to be more. I blow out frustration. Despite my jangled feelings, I’m still having another “I’m alive!” wave of euphoria. It’s about the third tonight. No time for it. I’ve got to use this force before we’re all blown off the face of ever-hating-Minos. Hell. Minos is Hell. Yeah. That’s what devils call it. I’m a bit rattled and my emotions are all over the fracking place. That’s OK, it’s understandable. I got planet bombed and we just had our first death.

**********

Ranthvar drives in front of his Lance as it roars alongside four scorpions. Just minutes ago, the monstrous wisp harvesters had unleashed a barrage of devastation orbs. They were targeting Urdrakes along a ridge-line in the Razor Hills who’d given their position away by lighting up the sky. Ranthvar still doesn’t know what they were shooting at. Nor does he care. They’d been foolish enough to give themselves away. Now it’s their turn to feel the sting. The devastation orbs fall to impact. A series of explosions, impossibly bright and large even at this distance, blossoms over the ridge-line.

“If the Urdrakes are still on that ridge, they’re dead,” His second, Svelthre, speculates.

Ranthvar grunts affirmation, then shouts up to the scorpion crews. “Eyes front! Keep a watch for any of those tell-tale white lights. Ready another barrage!” The crews spring into action, pulling levers, they activate the wisp vats to harvest raw energy. Though not traditional worbs, the vats contain a fluid that sucks energy from the wisps. Hellish machinery attached to the vats transfers this power into a chamber in the massive scorpions’ tales. The orange globes of devastation orbs begin to form at the scorpion tail-tips. Growing as they fill with destructive force. Even from high up on the scorpion tails, Ranthvar can feel the orbs’ heat, hear the hum of their rising power.

They continue their steady advance. The distance between the scorpions and the ridge-line shrinks to seven miles. Lavross, is two miles ahead and moving swiftly now. Talith is already running up some of the smaller hills about six miles away. Ranthvar sees no sign of Amagash. No word’s come back from his Lance. He scratches his left horn-tip, wondering if the hot-head got himself into trouble. Won’t be the first time. The Urdrake on that ridge may number ten or more. If he engaged such a powerful group by himself, he might’ve suffered defeat. The longer contact with Amagash is broken, the more likely things went bad for him.

“Ol’ Amagash might be in trouble.” Ranthvar chuckles. The notion of Amagash defeated and sent limping back, humbled, triggers a warm glow of self-satisfaction in Ranthvar’s chest. Often, other devils thought of him as slow and plodding. He liked to think things through before acting. If others mis-interpreted his calculations for stupidity, so be it. Amagash had been one of those most ready to label Ranthvar ‘slow.’ Now who’s out there in the wind? Now who’s lost contact with the main Century as an unexpected large number of hostiles run rampant in the field. “Stupid hot-head,” Ranthvar mutters to himself in satisfaction. “Now maybe the glory will fall to Talith.”

Svelthre remains silent.

Then, up ahead, fire erupts. Talith has passed into a depression out of Ranthvar’s sight. Rifle reports loudly echo. Sparks rise, blossom into flares as bright as small suns, then fall down. Ranthvar’s breath catches. Even he, not yet an Overseer, can sense this magecraft. His nostrils flare as its saltpeter scent wafts out toward him. Strong. Very strong. Its presence calls to him. His inborn lust for power ignites. The wisp that produced such force is mighty, indeed. “Regina stands to gain much once she possess it,” Ranthvar mutters to himself. He can’t help but feel jealousy. “Such a soul…”

Then, from the hills and along a closer ridge, more white lights erupt. Urdrake are shooting their beams down on Talith! They’d moved, quick for Urdrake, to a new rise and are now firing their bright beams at Talith’s Lance. Ranthvar counts the lights before they fade. Thirteen! “Asmodeus’s Might!” Ranthvar curses despite himself. He points to the Urdrake’s new position. “See those lights!?” He shouts up to the scorpion commander.

The commander acknowledges with a thumbs up.

“Target and launch!”

In about ten heartbeats, the scorpion tails swing back, then lift in graceful arcs. Wom! Wom! Wom! Wom! The devastation orbs launch — growing in size even as they fly toward their targets. Closer now. The Urdrake will have less time to react. Ranthvar grins, reveling in the four blasts of outbound death and torment. This was battle. Not just some invigorating mage hunt. But a glorious fight against Asmodeus’s most ancient and hated foes. Ranthvar’s momentary elation is equal parts greed for the inevitable profit and glory of taking a mage wisp and religious zeal for the invincible might of Asmodeus.

“Ready!” He shouts up to the scorpion crew leader. The scorpions once more begin to hum as wisp vats churn out the energy needed to form devastation orbs. Ranthvar shifts his gaze back toward Talith. A second set of bright sparks shoots out, falls down. More rifle reports. Beneath that sound, Ranthvar guesses he hears a chorus of yowls — faint at this extreme distance. The Urdrake’s white lights blast through it all. His mind slowly churns through the incoming details. Thirteen Urdrake on the ridge. A mage and some other things fighting Talith in the depression. “How many of those bastards are out there?” He mutters to Svelthre.

“Enemies?” Svelthre asks with a sidelong glance to Ranthvar. “I’d guess at least twenty. Plus the mage.”

“I wonder if Amagash’s even still out there,” Ranthvar is careful to keep the relish out of his voice. But an unfamiliar feeling, a quiver of fearful uncertainty causes his horn tips to tingle. “I suppose there could be more.”

“No good information’s coming back,” Svelthre replies. “Regina’s freaking out. Sending in Dressler. Lavross is charging off to beat down a still unknown enemy.” Svelthre pauses. Tests her words. “This could be… challenging.”

Ranthvar grunts. In the back of his mind, a dark shadow begins to unfold. He imagines those hills swarming with Urdrake and other forbidden forms. Just waiting to pounce. He shakes his head. “You watch. Talith has them.” His assertion, though, belies his uncertainty.

In the depression, all is now quiet. He can’t see what’s happening over the land rise. It’s infuriating. Then, Asmodeus-be-damned white lightning shoots up into the sky. For an instant, all of the Wisp Fields are illuminated. Then, a second smaller flash silhouettes the depression’s rim.

“The fuck!?” Svelthre exclaims.

Ranthvar feels the same way. “That’s form maker-lightning.”

“We don’t have form makers,” Svelthre says.

“No way that mage has form makers. Unless…” Ranthvar’s slow-moving yet meticulous mind runs through the possibilities. Urdrakes on the ridge in large numbers. A mage. Form maker lightning. Forbidden forms come from… “It’s got to be a Vila. Asmodeus-damned Vila! And a mage! Fuck!”

Svelthre looks at him, aghast. Ranthvar is not known to descend into cursing or to fall prey to wild speculation. “A Vila? Isn’t that unlikely? Aren’t they all dead? Extinct?”

“Not all. Every now and then a Poacher finds one. There were rumors that a group of Poachers discovered a Vila out closer to the shore. They’d sent word to Regina, asking for quite the bounty. Regina demanded proof. They said they’d bring it along with other prizes. They were supposed to arrive at Overseer in a day or two.”

“Sounds dubious.”

“Listen. Look. Urdrake on the ridge. Talith now offers no resistance after getting hit by Urdrake, Plumacats and a mage. Then there is form-maker lightning. Forbidden forms!” Ranthvar tilts his head back to the scorpion crews. “All fire on Talith’s position in that depression!” Ranthvar points as he shouts.

The scorpion crew commander looks over his beast and down at Ranthvar. “Sir? Did I hear that right?”

“Do it!” Ranthvar shouts. “Don’t make me say it again!”

“But Talith!” Svelthre objects.

“Talith is dead!” Ranthvar exclaims, his words punctuated by the Wom! Wom! Wom! Wom! of scorpions releasing their devastation orbs.

**********

Lavross seethes with rage.

The firefight over Talith’s Lance was a fucking disaster. The mage conjured so much magic that it set half his force of Vortex riders to slavering at its delicious stench. Then, the mage hurled some kind of long-range accurate missile and blinding flare combined. The Urdrake blazed away at Talith’s Lance from the Razor Hills. The yowls of at least ten fucking Plumacats sounded through the cacophony. It was about that time when Lavross realized both Amagash’s and Talith’s Lances were both total losses. Then the fucking thunderbolts of form-making shot up into the sky amidst another wave of deliciously powerful magic. Lavross knew that probably meant only one thing. A Vila had linked up with the mage. They were turning wisps into fucking forbidden forms!

Lavross did not at all blame Ranthvar for hurling devastation orbs down on his prize. The mage thus-far had proven more wily and resourceful than anyone expected. The orbs would force the mage to scramble, would degrade his force of rebels. And this new form-making presented a serious threat. Mages could help Vila craft forbidden forms. Forms like Urdrake and Plumacats are deadly predators to devils if left to gather and hunt. But the process of making them is draining. By themselves, Vila could only shape one or two at a time. With a powerful mage to assist, they might shape ten, fifteen… Lavross considers the prodigious magical force he just witnessed… maybe twenty per day. Between the Urdrake and the Plumacats, Lavross is pretty certain they’re dealing with twenty-to-thirty. Plus whatever the mage just conjured up. So thirty-to-fifty.

“That’s a lot of fucking forbidden forms,” Lavross growls to himself, his toothy maw chomping out each word in vicious bites.

Lavross glances side-long at his five Lances. He has fifty Drivers on Vortexes here along with the support of Ranthvar and the scorpion crews. Against even fifty forbidden forms that still gives him the advantage of numbers and firepower. The Asmodeus-damned mage is the wild card. He must be running out of magic after such prodigious expenditures. What a prize! Lavross hasn’t heard of such a strong mage in Hell in centuries. Perhaps ever. He wonders if Asmodeus will step in to claim the wisp for himself. And the glory of this mage’s capture is his to take. Lavross is heady with all the possibilities. Yet, if this night had revealed one thing — it was that capturing this mage was a deadly gambit. Amagash, Talith and both their Lances — likely gone. This was war. Lavross needed to treat it as such.

“Vorthis!” Lavross shouts to the Lance leader on his immediate left.

“Overseer!” The clever devil says as he snaps a casual salute.

“I want to you take your Lance around to the left of that gully! Attack any hostiles you see there! Expect heavy resistance! Go now!” The ten Drivers break off, their Vortexes spewing dirt, rocks and pollution.

“Exantha!” Lavross pivots to the Lance leader on his right.

“Ready Overseer!” Exantha, a newly minted Lance leader, exclaims with her own stiff salute.

“Good! Now you run down and take the right flank! Heavy attack! Numerous hostiles in that gully!” Lavross points at the land-fall that’s now just four miles away and is closing fast. Exantha’s Lance roars off, taking an arching sweep toward the gully.

“Everyone spread out!” He shouts to his remaining three Lances. “Skirmish formation! Encirclement! Expect incoming fire! Urdrakes! Plumacats! A powerful mage! We shall take them! For the glory of Asmodeus!” His Lances let out a loud cheer. They brandish weapons — rifles, swords, axes — as they increase the spacing between each Vortex to about a hundred feet. They form an inverted bow a half mile across. The open end faces the gully. Exantha and Vorthis keep their own Lances in tight wedges. These shoot like spears toward the mage and his group of rebels. Lavross’s hand itches to lift his rifle, to swing his Night Axe. He taps his worb, froms his signature black shell of deadly spirit energy around his Vortex. This action of diabolical magic draws another cheer. Lavross lifts his fist — pumping the air in expectation of violence.

“Tonight! We conquer!” His shout echoes through the night.

**********

My force is huddled at low spot in a gully snaking out into the Wisp Fields. There are seventy-nine of us. We’re mostly Plumacats and Mottles. But now I’ve got this badass force of nine laser artillery Urdrakes. That means I can seriously reach out and touch someone. We’re just going to have to shoot and run like Hell. But first, I’ve got to make sure Zorfang’s ready. I drag my hand through omnis scientia. Tapping my link with Zorfang, I sense his position about three-quarters of a mile to my west.

“Zorfang! You still there!?” I shout through the sensor.

“Yes father!” He sounds even more out of breath than before. He’s had to out run two of those Hell ball volleys. Having just escaped one by the skin of my effing teeth, I don’t envy him.

“Are you ready?”

He harooms loudly. Omnis scientia jumps from his loud exclamation. Almost jolts my hand out. Yeah. I’d say he’s ready.

“Fucking great! Now I want you to light up those scorpions. The bastards have been hurling Hell balls down on us for long enough. Now it’s their turn to taste some pain!”

“They shall no longer see!” Zorfang shouts. “I swear it!”

“Fanfriggingtastic! Do it!” I pull my hand out of the link. Everyone’s staring at me again. They’re all huffing from exertion. But they’re ready.

“OK, everyone listen up! I’m going to make some changes so I need you to execute quick!” I turn to Featherstar, the scouts, and the veteran Mottles. “You old Mottles! I’m going to need nine of you to switch out with the new Mottles. Five for Grimjaw’s scouts. Grimjaw, you keep Shade.” Grimjaw and Shade made one Hell of a lethal team. I’d be a moron to break that up. “Four from your Plumacats, Featherstar. Do it now!”

There’s a rustling as the Mottles fly off. Featherstar starts to protest, but sees the Mottles already in motion. My Mottle’s got the rest of the Mottles pretty much toeing my line. Which is damn good. I don’t have fucking time to explain everything right now. These veteran Mottles gather to do their wall hanging thing beside me along the gully’s slope. “OK. I want you Mottles to team up with these Urdrake. I know you won’t be able to glide-fly with them. This is more for sharing knowledge. Ride with them and show them what the other Urdrake do. Because I’m going to need their beam crystals in about sixty seconds. Go! Do it now!”

The Mottles fly over to the Urdrake. Mottles have more trouble attaching to the Urdrake than a squishy hooman like me or the sleek Plumacats. But they manage. They look kinda comical — like rumpled bags hanging over the spikey and squat Urdrake.

“Now! You new Mottles — link up with the veteran Plumacats. I want you to share what you’ve learned so far with these Mottles. I expect you guys to be up to speed quick. Then pair up in buddy teams with the new Plumacats. So a vet Plumacat plus a new Mottle each to a new Plumacat. If there’s a odd cat out, send them to me. They’ll come with us.” I point to Zaya, Zel, Theri, Mottle, myself and the nine Urdrakes. The Mottles and Plumacats team up.

As they do this, I move to my next concern. “Wounded Plumacats! You’re with me as well. Slow for you is fast for us and the Urdrake. So hurt Plumas are with us.” In total, I end up with four Plumacats. One of the new Plumacats who didn’t have a buddy and three wounded. I somehow missed wounded number three. But this battle’s been fucking crazy. So it’s understandable I’d miss something. Battles usually are, I imagine. Like I’ve ever been in a fucking war like this before! Jesus H!

I look over my force. They’re as reorganized as they’re gonna get. It’s taken me about two minutes to do this. I loft omnis scientia to get a better view of what the fuck is going on. Up close and personal, about fifty devils on Vortexes are breathing down my neck from like two miles out. Four more Hell balls are flying toward Zorfang. But two of these are off-kilter — hurtling into frigging nowhere. I can tell why when I see the scorpions, now about six miles distant, lit up in white as the Urdrakes lay those awesome laser beams down. Looks like some of the devils operating those damned things are dazzled or otherwise fucked up. Fuckin A! That said, two Hell balls are heading straight toward Zorfang. He and the Urdrake are running over the Wisp Fields fast as their stubby legs can carry them even as they bombard the scorpions with white flashes. A plume of smoke begins to trail from one of the scorpions. I let out a cheer. Everyone on my side pauses to stare at me, puzzled over what I’m suddenly so happy about.

It’s all good. Time to get their attention anyway. “Now we’re going to do a little bait and switch! We’ve got fifty devils on Vortexes heading our way. What they don’t know is that we outnumber them. So we,” I point to my force of Urdrakes and crew, “are going to be the bait. And you,” I point to the rest of the Mottles and Plumacats, “are going to be the switch.”

“My bait group is going to run up out of the other side of this gully here. We’re going to shoot at those Vortexes with our Urdrake as we run like there’s no tomorrow. At this range, we should be able to get a decent number of them. The devils are already after us. So they’ll try to chase us down.

“That’s where the switch group comes in. I want you to spread out in a line along this gully. When those Vortexes chase us, when they get close enough, then you pounce!”

The Plumacats have really gotten into my description of them pouncing. This elicits a chorus of excited yowls.

“Just make sure you keep eyes on the devils so you can position yourself to attack them. They’ll have to come at us or get picked off by the Urdrake. So your positioning’s gonna be key.”

Grimjaw and Featherstar exchange a look. “We shall hunt them,” Featherstar says as she licks her jowls hungrily. The casual predatory gesture kinda freaks me out. But I don’t have time to pause.

“OK! We are off!” I gather my bait group and lead them to the other side of the gully. Featherstar and Grimjaw are already having their switch group spread out along the low ground. I pop up, springing into the air as Mottle does his flap, then glide thing. I allow myself to trail sparks, fly about fifty feet, then land on a boulder. I’m deliberately creating a spectacle. As I land, I see the Vortexes are less than a mile off and closing fast. We’re still of their weapons range.

The new-formed Urdrake are rushing up to me. “Mottle, I want you to transfer my orders to the Urdrake through the other Mottles.”

Mottle quivers his affirmative response.

As the Urdrakes cross my position, I shout “Turn! Target the Vortexes! Fire!”

Nine Urdrake ponderously spin their turtle bodies around. Nine Mottles balloon up like parachutes to reveal rows of crystals ridging along jagged shells beneath. Nine beams of white light streak out. In that flash, four Vortexes blow up. They spin and cartwheel — throwing riders through the air. Debris rains down. In response, the Vortexes increase speed. They’ve hit their damned red and golden buttons. I can hear the high-pitched wail of tortured wisps ground down in terrible worbs. Pollution and trails of dirt rain in nasty rooster tails behind.

“We run!” I shout, then do two fly-hops. Covering another hundred feet, I find a mound to stand on as I wait for the Urdrake to catch up. Those powerful flashes of light take about ten seconds to recharge. I’m guessing we’ve got two more shots before those devils get into rifle and fireball range. Then shit’s gonna get hot. I check my energetic vessel. It’s already about a quarter full again. I’m not sure I know how to burn it off fast enough to go negative. Good thing. I’m probably going to need it all.

The Urdrake arrive at my mound. “Fire!” I shout again. They spin, shoot. This time, three bikes are destroyed. The devils are weaving from side to side. Makes it tougher for the Urdrakes to zero in even though the range is shorter. Still, we’ve already more than decimated them. That’s gotta hurt! I jump down. I’m fracking so damn exhausted. But I run with them anyway. I slap hard shells. I slap fleshy Mottle bats. I shout words of encouragement. I’m fucking hoarse. I don’t even know if they really understand me. That’s OK. My tone of encouragement seems to be helping them along.

After another hundred feet, I call a stop. “Fire!” I shout again. Beams streak out toward bikes that are about half a mile off. Damn! They’re moving crazy-fast! I focus on the left group and unleash my own magical blasts. “Vexare Verberare! Una! Lux!Five intensely glowing missiles streak out, causing this group to slow down as they’re suddenly flash-blind. My volley rips through a front rider who takes two shots through the torso. My other three missiles fly off. The Urdrake down three more. Then the devils’ rifles are up. It’s long range. But I hear bullets start to snap through the air near my fucking head. The mass volume of fire making up for loss of accuracy.

“Get down!” I shout, slamming into ground. Rolling. Taking cover behind a rock. Well shit! I’d hoped to get another volley off. Then I see a mass of fireball rounds shoot out from the devils. Holy Hell! The whole of the Wisp Fields to my north flower in blossoms of fire like a Hell version of the Fourth of Frigging July. Again long range. But some of those balls will reach us. “Up again! Run!” We make it about fifty feet before the flames are on top of us. I spin, draw in about a third of my present magic, do a Mottle-jump into the air above my scrambling buddies. Confractus! I incant as I hurl an arc of incandescent blue magic into the onrushing inferno. Five fireball rounds made it to our position. Confractus unravels four. The last, though weakened, explodes around us. Praesidia! Clypeus! Protective magic envelops me, then forms a dome above my allies. I draw hard from my energetic vessel, desperate to save my friends.

The gouts of flame push clypeus into my chest, blast holes through praesidia. I breathe in sulfur stench and extreme heat. But the bubble holds. I fall back, landing in my blue protective bubble with a loud ‘thunk!’ When the flames clear, I see the smoldering forms of my company rise. Praesdia absorbed the brunt of the explosion. Most of us are still standing. Though my gut drops as an Urdrake and a Plumacat lay still. Spinning, I see the first devils are almost to the gully. Ten of them led by this nasty big guy riding his Vortex in a jagged field of darkness. He’s brandishing a wicked axe that slings spines from his dark aura as he swings it about.

“Shoot what you can from here!” I shout. “I’m going back in!” Time to pivot. I lift my hand. “Vexare! Verbarare!” The missiles of magical force streak toward the big guy with the axe. He’s clearly the leader. With my other hand, I draw my moonshadow blade from the air. My exhaustion forgotten, battle elation threading fire through my veins, I charge.

As I fly forward, as my missiles converge on the hulking devil surrounded by his field of darkness, Featherstar, Grimjaw and the Plumacats pounce. The ones paired with Mottles leap into the air. They take a single enormous flying bound. In a moment, twelve Plumacats and twelve Mottles are ripping through this leading force. My missiles impact on the big devil’s black aura. Four are snuffed out in darkness. One streaks through, blasting his shoulder in a spray of blood. Though his arm falls limp. He seems unrelenting. He lifts his dark axe and cleaves clean through a Mottle-Plumacat pair. They fall to the ground. Instantly dead.

“No!” I shout as I see two of my companions — two creatures I had a part in making — instantly reduced to dead material by the devil’s vicious strike. I land on the gully’s lip opposite the fight. I’m still about a hundred and fifty feet off. My eyes are only on this devil now. Mottle and I glide-fly over the gully. From behind me, the lights of Urdrake flash. Up ahead, there are explosions as Vortex are shorn by the laser-like blasts. More devils are converging. Some shoot up as I descend toward the fray. My shout of clypeus! to deflect their rounds is an afterthought. Though wounded, the lead devil fights like a titan. He makes a gesture with his axe, three spikes of darkness shoot out from his aura. One of the spikes fells another Plumacat.

At last, I land beside this terror. My shell of clypeus sparks as it contacts his own dark field. “Finished!” I shout as I hurl my moonshadow blade. It slams through the black shell, but is deflected. Its trailing edge catches the Vortex wheel — sheering a chunk of it off. The devil is hurled toward me. He tumbles through the air, axe spinning.

“I see you mage!” The devil howls in Minosian. “A mere girl! Surrender to Asmodeus!”

I snap my fingers, conjuring my moonshadow blade back. The dark axe falls. Spikes of darkness claw at my protective bubble of clypeus. Parrying with my blade of light and shadow, I spin beneath the axe, tumble past a spine of darkness that pierces my shield. Pushing beneath his arm I thrust the moonshadow blade upward. It buries deep in devil’s flesh.

The devil howls in pain, opens his maw — filled with teeth the size of my thumb — then lunges down to bite me. “Amplio! Macto!” I shout, channeling my massive flood of magical energy into my sword in the form of a devil-smiting curse. White-blue energy blasts through the devil, shoots out the other side. His form splits in half. Topples. Mouth still agape.

I feel wet on my belly. Look down. There’s a deep cut where one of the dark shards from his weird devil magic shell got me. I put my hand over it to stop the bleeding. Spinning, I look around. The last devils are trying to run away. Getting blasted to pieces by Urdrake fire. Ripped apart by Plumacats. The predators are feasting. Their Vortexes — destroyed or on the ground idle. Off to my left about a half mile off, two massive Hell balls explode. I sit down. A touch to omnis scientia tells me Zorfang’s not there. He’s OK. He’s still shooting and moving.

“Good!” I say. Then more weakly. “Gooooood…” Whew. Why do I feel so light-headed? I look down. There’s a big pool of blood. “Woah. That’s a lot of red,” I say. Mottle quivers in upset. Does his bite thing. It revives me a little. But I’m getting weak quick. He’s freaking out. Calling for help. Shouldn’t I be the one freaking out? Why does everything seem so distant? Then Featherstar is standing over me. With one giant paw she pushes me back.

“Hey! I didn’t say you could do that…”

“Shush,” She says, then begins licking my belly with her big raspy tongue. I musta just passed out. Because everything just went black there for a second.

(New to the Helkey multiverse? Haven’t yet read the first chapter? You can find it here: Helkey 1 — The Memory Draught.)

(Looking for another chapter? Find it in the Helkey Table of Contents.)

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BSO Ragnarok 1.30: Troubles Rise From Yggdrasil’s Roots Part 1 — Goblin Town, The Hollow of Horrors, and Shadow Maw

Welcome to Part 3 of the Deep Dark of Svartalfheim — an unofficial, unaffiliated OGL Dungeons and Dragons adventure designed to take characters from level 1 all the way to level 5-7! This is the third module provided for the larger BSO Ragnarök campaign. Here, the PCs continue their journey as unlikely heroes in the BSO Ragnarök setting. It is also part 1 of the adventure — Troubles Rise from Yggdrasil’s Roots.

Toubles Rise — provides players with a choice of two paths. They can decide to enter Goblin Town — a new gathering of monsters led by Shadow Maw in the hills near Yggdrasil. Or they can decide to investigate the Ramshackle House — which is occupied by PKers in service to Svartalfheim’s lord King Doomshallow. Each opens to a dungeon that characters can explore — providing monsters and/or PKers to defeat, mysteries to uncover, and treasure to be won. These adventures are designed for a party of 4-6 level 2 adventurers and will take the players to level 3-4 when completed. Which path the characters choose will determine the events of the next chapter in the Deep Dark of Svartalfheim series — Safe Zones Lost, Midgard Invaded.

Updated Midgard Campaign Map Including Recent Key Locations. Original map made by Ted Burgess.

To make Troubles Rise… less cumbersome as a blog post, it has been broken into two parts. Part 1 — describing Goblin Town, The Hollow of Horrors, and Shadow Maw is provided below. Part 2 will publish about a week or two after Part 1.

I am running Battlestorm Ragnarök as a live campaign. Play is live-streamed on Twitch Saturday Nights about once every three weeks at Ted Burgess’s Twitch page. Afterward, videos of these live games along with character profiles are provided here in the Battlestorm Ragnarök Campaign Archive. In addition, I’m providing walk-throughs of these published modules about once every two weeks every Sunday or Monday Night on my Twitch page.

Below is the Goblin Town, Hollow of Horrors and Shadow Maw section of the Dungeons and Dragons adventure module Troubles Rise From Yddgrasil’s Roots. Enjoy it here for free.

Because we love WOTC and want to promote their original gaming products — the books and electronic guides we use to play our games — I’m listing some links here. Please check them out if you haven’t already: The Monster Manual, The Player’s Handbook, The Dungeon Master’s Guide, Volo’s Guide to Monsters, Xanathar’s Guide to Everything, Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything, Sword Coast Adventurer’s Guide.

(Warning: if you are a player in the Battlestorm Online Ragnarok campaign setting STOP READING NOW.)

Walkthrough of Trouble’s Rise — Goblin Town, The Hollow of Horrors and Shadow Maw

INVESTIGATION OF OMINOUS SIGNS REVEAL TWO CHOICES FOR OUR PLAYERS — TAKE ON GOBLIN TOWN OR INVESTIGATE THE RAMSHACKLE HUT

The players have now begun to learn quite a lot about the new troubles besetting Midgard. Following the rescue of Raven and the bittersweet reunion with her daughter Thalia, our heroes went on to uncover up to two new threats facing Midgard. The first is a town of monsters forming in the hills to the East of Yggdrasil. The second is a PKer guild that preys on adventurers in the weakening safe zones of Mio Elysse while hiding out in a Ramshackle House that has been cast into darkness by Yggdrasil’s roots. Depending on the course of your campaign, the players may have completed one or both of these quests before reaching level 2. If they have completed both, give them the Quest Alert below and the Quest Alert from Troubles Rise Part 2.

If the players decide to Slay Shadow Maw, read the following recap and introduction below. If the players decide to Investigate the Ramshackle House and Apprehend the Leaders of Kills4LULZ, skip this section and go on to Troubles Rise Part 2 (Publishing on this blog site in about 1-2 weeks).

Venturing into Midgard beneath the new star’s blue light — a star Astrid’s prophecy reveled to you is the very Eye of Odin come to gaze upon the void — you discovered dark shadows and odd happenings among Yggdrasil’s Roots. At Hobgoblin Hill, you found monsters spawning among an old tower’s ruins wandering away from their lair. These hobgoblins had been freed by Yggdrasil’s roots — which unbound them from their typical range near the Hill’s ruins and allowed them to wander through Midgard. You also learned that these roots brought with them the cold, deep shadows of Ginnungagap. Appearing to devour lands in darkness, these pools of void spawned living shades who emerged to strike you with ghostly hands. Each ethereal touch brought with it a weakening chill — pulling you down into the void to fill ranks of shadows. Luckily, you survived your encounter with these undead.

You learned that the hobgoblins weren’t simply wandering about aimlessly. The hobgoblins instead traveled directly to a hidden destination. About a half mile away from Hobgoblin Hill was a hollow mouth in a valley wall spewing out the swirling waters of a subterranean stream. This cave mouth was guarded by two watch towers and a wooden gate. Within the cave, lights from oily fires gleamed and wicked laughter could be heard.

As you approached the cave, a new feature appeared on your player map — labeling the opening as an entrance to Goblin Town. You were unable to venture too close to Goblin Town, though, as you were spotted by goblin scouts hiding within a wooded area leading up to the cave mouth’s opening. These scouts attacked you even as they raised the alarm at Goblin Town’s gates. As Goblins and Hobgoblins swarmed out, you were forced to flee.

You returned to your home town with crucial new information. Yggdrasil’s roots dredged up shadows of void. These shadows somehow freed monsters to roam about in Midgard. Even worse, the monsters freed in this way were gathering together — filling up a macabre new town in Midgard’s hills. The goblins and hobgoblins in this town now pose a major threat to every adventurer in Midgard. For from its gates issue war bands. One day it may belch forth an army of monsters!

Disturbed by this knowledge, your rest is troubled. You realize your Inn is just an ephemeral haven within a safe zone beset by myriad troubles. Yggdrasil’s Roots are dredging up the void’s very substance. Their darkness brings undead, creates bridges between Midgard and entire dungeon realms like Svartalfheim, and perhaps worst of all, allows monsters to wander freely in Midgard, to gather, and to even form armies. Following your unsettled rest, you receive a notification from RubyNight — NEW QUEST AVAILABLE!! SLAY SHADOW MAW OF GOBLIN TOWN!! URGENT NEED TO COMPLETE!! MEET WITH QUEST-GIVER RUBYNIGHT TO RECIEVE!! After all you’ve been through over the past couple of days, you understand Ruby’s fears all-too-well.

Helpful Hints from RubyNight — Goblins Fleeing Shadow Maw’s Devouring Jaws

Ruby, as usual, is available to meet at the Guild Hall during the day or at Thunderale Tavern during night-time (see Ominous Signs Part 1). At their meeting, Ruby expresses her relief that the players returned safely after nearly having to face a horde of monsters issuing from the gates of Goblin Town. Ruby seems sheepish about asking them return to danger so soon. But she believes she may be able to provide them with helpful hints on how to approach Goblin Town. While the players were away, another adventuring group scouted the lands surrounding Goblin Town on a Quest for RubyNight. They discovered some of the goblins within the Town were trying to escape into the surrounding lands. When approached, the goblins at first cowered in fear — begging for their lives. They gladly gave information in return. The reason why they fled was to escape to devouring jaws of Shadow Maw — a fiendish hound-like creature that can turn into a goblin but is also said to eat them. The adventurers found that Shadow Maw is the organizing force behind Goblin Town. RubyNight believes that letting such a powerful and dangerous leader of monsters — able to organize forces on such a massive scale — could result in terror reigning across Midgard. So, even though she knows the risks are high, she asks the players to sneak into Goblin Town and take down Shadow Maw.

New Quest From RubyNight — Slay Shadow Maw the Boss of Goblin Town

A new darkness has emerged in Midgard. It is a fiendish hound of King Doomshallow who is now swelling the might of this dark lord by building him armies both in Midgard and in Svartalfheim. If the players undertake this quest, they will directly confront the horrific creature that is Shadow Maw — Queen of Goblin Town and huntress in the Hollows of Horror that open behind it. What follows is the story of how Shadow Maw came to rule Goblin Town. It is essential reading for the Dungeon Master as the players will either confront Shadow Maw now or later. If the players instead decide to investigate the Ramshackle House, they’ll be faced with Shadow Maw in the next chapter of this adventure series — Safe Zones Lost, Midgard Invaded.

Quest Background: Shadow Maw, the Terrible Barghest Queen of Goblin Town

Shadow Maw is indeed the organizing terror behind Goblin Town. A Barghest with some modifications, Shadow Maw is a fiendish ‘hound’ of King Doomshallow of Svartalfheim. Given free reign to hunt, one day Shadow Maw discovered a root of Yggdrasil emerging from a tunnel floor within Svartalfheim. Shadow Maw found that the shadows around the root created a pathway to a cave within Midgard. Confined to the shadows and unable to venture further into this tantalizing new realm, Shadow Maw was about to stalk back to her home when she saw the flickering of torchlight. A lone adventurer had found the cave and was searching it for monsters. Shadow Maw slunk back into the darkness, transformed into her goblin form, and made a stumbling noise to attract the adventurer. Upon seeing the goblin, the adventurer charged only to find himself facing against a horrific fiendish predator. Shadow Maw made short work of the adventurer who died — leaving a fragment of Deep Shard as remains. Shadow Maw then devoured the Deep Shard. Finding its darkly rich taste to her liking, Shadow Maw decided to lair in the cave.

After killing two more adventurers and devouring their remnant Deep Shards as well, Shadow Maw discovered she could now roam freely about Midgard. Venturing out, she found a wandering group of goblins. After killing their leader, she brought the goblins back to the cave as her servants and protectors. By talking with her new servants, she learned of other goblins and hobgoblins wandering the lands after Yggdrasil’s roots had freed them. She sent out her dark power to these goblinkin — drawing them to her. Soon after, Goblin Town was founded.

Shadow Maw continued to devour goblins, adventurers, and deep shard remnants as her tastes dictated. But she found her hunger increased even as a darkness began to spill from her mouth. She thought little of her cravings. After a time, two emissaries of King Doomshallow — one Duergar and one Drow — arrived. They brought with them a message which read — “Your gifts of servants have made you the greatest of my hounds. We shall use them in our coming war against Midgard. Continue. Gather your forces and send me more of these servants. I find them both wonderous and dark.”

Each time Shadow Maw devoured a goblin or a hobgoblin, they were transformed into a Skeleton, Zombie, or a Shadow and sent to serve King Doomshallow. Each time she destroyed an adventurer, another Deep Shard added to the might of the darkness gathering within her. Now she rules Goblin Town from her dark throne at the end of her Hollow of Horrors — her tunneled hunting grounds where she takes goblins, hobgoblins, and adventurers alike for sport and to swell the ranks of King Doomshallow’s armies. Goblins and Hobgoblins in Goblin Town have fractured under Shadow Maw into three rough groups. The first are fanatical devotees who believe that serving Shadow Maw will grant them preferential treatment (sometimes she does, but Shadow Maw is fickle). The second are those whose AIs haven’t yet developed a sense of self preservation. They follow Shadow Maw automatically and in an uncaring fashion, although they sometimes display confusion over their present circumstances. The third group are those who’ve realized Shadow Maw presents a terrible danger to them. Some of this group fled and asked for help from adventurers. The rest live in a constant state of terror in Goblin Town and may give adventurers subtle aid as they move to confront the Barghest.

Quest Alert: Infiltrate Goblin Town and Slay Shadow Maw

Make a copy of the following green highlighted text to give to the players when they receive this Quest from RubyNight:

Situation: Monsters are gathering in Goblin Town in large numbers. They represent a threat to all who travel across the central lands of Midgard. They are mostly Goblins and Hobgoblins organized and led by Shadow Maw — a creature that can take either the form of fiendish hound or a goblin. Shadow Maw rules over goblin town through terror. She hunts and devours her own subjects. She has also killed a number of adventurers.

Objective: Infiltrate Goblin Town and slay Shadow Maw.

Objective: Disrupt and disperse the monsters gathered in Goblin Town.

Objective: Some goblins live in fear of being devoured by Shadow Maw. If possible, find these goblins and seek their aid in your attack on Shadow Maw.

Objective: Learn more about Shadow Maw, its origins, and the gathering of monsters in Goblin Town.

Reward: 750 gold (250 gold awarded by each of the major guilds).

Hobgoblin Raiders and Sneaking into Goblin Town

After the players accept this quest, they must then journey to Goblin Town and plan their entry into its dungeon environment. Goblin Town is to the east of Yggdrasil in a hilly region of land that spills down into plains. Nestled in a valley, the town features only one entrance which is guarded by a wooden wall, a simple gate, and two wooden watch towers. Use the Midgard campaign map (updated above) for the players’ overland journey. You may wish to include a random encounter appropriate for level 2 characters along the way. The lands away from towns and safe zones should begin to feel more dangerous. You can add to this tensions by making the monsters seem more bold and aggressive. For example, an ambush by a roving Giant Spider or a group of two Giant Frogs might help to set the tone.

Hobgoblin Raiders

Once the players reach Goblin Town’s environs, they may begin to notice some changes. So long as at least one party member has a passive Perception of 10, read the following description.

The woods ahead are now a familiar outlier which you know screens Goblin Town’s ugly entrance. Lurking within is a group of four heavily armed hobgoblins. They move outward swiftly, finger weapons, and seem ready for a fight.

Regardless, when the players arrive in the vicinity of Goblin Town, they encounter a band of four Hobgoblin (Monster Manual, 186) raiders who immediately attack once they see the party. They are one of four groups sent out by Shadow Maw to raid travelers passing near Goblin Town and should be positioned in the woods leading up to the gate. If the party is stealthy, they may avoid the raiders who have a passive perception of 10.

Map of Goblin Town’s Entrance and its surrounding lands. Battle map is sized for 37×40 5 foot grid squares.

Treasure: The hobgoblin raiders drop 4 gold, 12 silver, and 10 copper. They each wear chainmail and a shield, carry a longsword and a longbow and have quivers with ten arrows (40 total). Their gear can be sold for half value in a Home Town. In addition, their clothes and equipment can be donned by players attempting to disguise themselves to enter Goblin Town (see below).

Entering Goblin Town

Loud shrieks, wicked lights, and oily smoke spills from the cave entrance to Goblin Town. A river of polluted water flows out between two rickety towers and through an opening in a wooden palisade wall. Two hobgoblins guard a gate in the wall. You see four pairs of goblin eyes peering out from fighting platforms on the towers.

After dealing with the hobgoblin raiders, the party must then devise a way to enter Goblin Town. The gate is presently guarded by two Hobgoblins. In addition, four Goblins man the towers — with two in each tower. If the party engaged with the hobgoblin raiders in the woods, those manning the gates and the towers are on heightened alert. Players attempting to sneak into Goblin Tower make stealth checks at disadvantage as a result.

Treasure: These goblins and hobgoblins drop 6 gold, 15 silver, 8 copper and one topaz worth 5 gold. The only gear that’s retrievable after the fight is 20 arrows, one suit of chainmail (half value), and one longsword (half value).

A Tough Fight

Fighting the guards is a rather bad idea as it will result in eight goblins and four hobgoblins arriving two rounds after combat begins (from area 1 in Goblin Town below) so long as one of the goblins in the towers rings one of the alarm bells hanging inside the towers. If these bells are rung, residents of Goblin Town are also on put on high alert (see below). If both groups of guards are defeated at the gate, the PCs may continue into Goblin Town, but are likely to face further combat against large groups of monsters.

Sneaking Into Goblin Town

For those attempting to sneak in, there is little cover or concealment on land. Hiding in the hills behind the gate is possible for those making successful athletics checks to climb into the hills (DC 10), Stealth checks to avoid being seen by the guards while climbing the hills (DC 10), and final Stealth checks to drop down behind the gate and into the cave entrance from above without being noticed (DC 15). Jumping down from the hills into the cave also requires a DC 13 Athletics check to avoid taking 1d6 damage from the fall.

The river provides another means of possible stealth entrance for the players. Those making successful Athletics checks (DC 13) may swim against the current. They must stay beneath the water, holding their breath, and make successful DC 10 Stealth checks to avoid detection. They must then scale the waterfall from beneath the flow of water — requiring a DC 15 Athletics check. Once scaling the waterfall, they must again swim underwater for another twenty feet into the cave to avoid detection (DC 10 Stealth and DC 13 Athletics).

Bluffing Your Way into Goblin Town

Bluffing the hobgoblin guards is also possible so long as the players have secured hobgoblin gear from the raiders or have devised some other way to come up with a reasonable disguise. Though without a Disguise Kit or some kind of illusion magic, the hobgoblin guards will almost surely discover them. In addition, if the deceiving player cannot speak goblin, any Deception checks are made at disadvantage as they attempt to use non-verbal signals to bluff their way in. Just wearing the hobgoblin gear and bringing along any extra players as prisoners requires a successful DC 23 Deception check. A successful Disguise Kit check of 13 and a following Deception check of 13 would also allow entry. If illusion is used on at least 1-2 players, the above Deception checks are made with advantage. If illusion is used on all players wearing hobgoblin gear, the difficulty of all deception checks is also reduced by 5. Last of all, if there are more PCs than hobgoblin gear, the players may try to persuade the guards that these players are captives by succeeding on a DC 13 Persuasion skill check.

Facilitating Challenges For Creative Players

Of course, players may use other creative magics (charms, animal friends, animal forms etc) to attempt to gain entry. Be open to players thinking outside the box and allow them to attempt to execute various creative, non-combat means of entry if they’re so inclined. Use your discretion to adjudicate these unforeseen challenges.

A Dungeon Town of Goblins and Hobgoblins

To navigate Goblin Town’s dangers, players will likely need to balance cunning, diplomacy and use of force. Three factions of goblins and hobgoblins inhabit the town (see The Three Monster Factions below). Each goblin faction has different motivations, perceptions, and levels of alertness. Astute players can leverage the factions’ differences to gain advantage, allies, and even temporary safety.

General Features

Goblin Town occupies a large central cavern with various chambers that off-shoot from the main area. A river that is eight feet deep at its center runs through the town. The central cavern’s ceiling is 15 feet high near the walls and increases to 30 feet high at the cavern’s center. Lighting is bright within twenty feet of light sources indicated on the map. Otherwise, lighting in the central cavern and area 6 is dim. Area 7 is dimly lit by glowing crystals. Area 8 is dark. Staircases leading down into The Hollow of Horrors are cut out of living rock. The bridge in area 3 was constructed by dwarves long ago. The cavern’s one ogre — Smash Face — demands tribute from any who cross the bridge. His loud, bellowed demands can be heard throughout Goblin Town. These bellows mix with the wicked laughter and chanting of the goblin fanatics in areas 2 and 6.

Dungeon Maps

Below are two larger dungeon maps covering all of Goblin Town, The Hollow of Horrors and Shadow Maw’s Throne (Area 25). One is gridded to provide the proper scale. Another is un-gridded if you need a non gridded option. Areas 23, 24 and 25 along with 15 and 16 also provide high resolution versions of Shadow Maw’s Throne (gridded and non gridded) and Ghoul Spider Ambush for use as battle maps.

Gridded version of Goblin Town and the Hollow of Horrors

This large gridded dungeon map for Troubles Rise Part 1 is made for virtual tabletop use at moderate resolution and 1.8 MB.

Clean version of Goblin Town and the Hollow of Horrors. Both maps are originally made by me using Inkarnate.

A non-gridded map of Goblin Town and the Hollow of Horrors is also provided for your ease of use on virtual table tops. Also at 1.8 MB resolution.

The Three Monster Factions

One group are fanatical devotees of Shadow Maw. These goblins and hobgoblins control areas 2 and 6 of Goblin Town. They are also the ruling force within the town. This group believes that if they give Shadow Maw what she wants, she will devour them last, or not at all. There is some truth to this assumption — as Shadow Maw favors devouring her least effective or most rebellious servants. However, Shadow Maw is both fickle and hungry. So even fanatical devotion is no guarantee. The PCs, though, will be unable to negotiate with this set of goblins and hobgoblins. In fact, if this group notices the adventurers, they’ll try to mount a large force to capture them and present them as prizes to Shadow Maw.

The second group involves typical goblin and hobgoblin AIs. They occupy area of 4 of Goblin Town. The guards to the Hollow of Horrors at areas 10 are also typical goblins and hobgoblins. These goblins and hobgoblins are set up to fight adventurers and do so without thinking even as they act like typical monsters. They do not relish attacking adventurers as Shadow Maw’s devotees do, however. And, recently, some among this group have begun to question their existence as well as the wisdom of serving a vicious monster like Shadow Maw who will ultimately devour them in the end. If a rare opportunity arises for a PC to converse with one of these goblins or hobgoblins outside of combat, they can persuade these monsters to behave non-aggressively with a successful DC 20 Persuasion check. The monsters will not, however, directly help the players. But they may help tilt odds in the players’ favor. Such typical goblins and hobgoblins may be asked to look the other way as PCs pass, for example.

Group three are composed of goblins and hobgoblins who’ve fully realized that Shadow Maw will ultimately kill them. These monsters occupy area 5. In addition, a hobgoblin alchemist hermit with similar views lives in a hovel concocting various potions in area 9. Members of this group feel compelled to obey Shadow Maw and her servants only under terror of death. They will fight the PCs if pressed by the fanatics. However, if given an opportunity, they will provide subtle aid to the players in exchange for assurances from the players that they will try to save them. Fear prevents them from fighting at the players’ side except in self-defense. But they can be persuaded to hide players in their huts (DC 12 Persuasion), allowing players to rest and gain the benefits of an Inn (Long Rest) after staying there for one hour. This may trigger a coordinated battle if goblins and hobgoblins from group three are found to be hiding the players by group one’s fanatics. In this case, the goblins, hobgoblins and shamans in areas 2 and 6 gather to assault and kill the goblins in area 5 — triggering an exciting battle for the control of Goblin Town.

1. The Entrance to Goblin Town

Smoke, flickering firelight, loud bellows and wicked laughter issue from the wide cave entrance in front of you. The polluted river flows through it. On its oily waters floats various wastes and refuse. Beyond, the cave opens up into a much larger chamber.

Four hobgoblins and eight goblins also occupy this area ready to reinforce the gate should the alarm bell ring. If the players are disguised, this group lets them pass. However, adventurers who snuck in will then be confronted by these guards unless they can also sneak past them — most likely be continuing to hide in the foul water (Stealth 10), swimming up stream (Athletics 13), and climbing up out of the river in the dim light before they reach the bridge (Stealth 15).

Treasure: If defeated, these monsters drop 22 gold, 25 silver, and 45 copper. 44 arrows, one longsword, and one longbow are retrievable (half value).

2. Goblin Fanatics Camp

This cluster of five tents to the northwest of Goblin Town is painted with a symbol of open black jaws. Figures wearing similar signs dance around an open fire. At their lead is a fat goblin waving a banner painted with a black mountain whose cave entrance opens like a red mouth.

These tents are occupied by twelve Goblins, four Hobgoblins, and one Goblin Boss. The Goblin Boss, Snarloc Crutke, is a fantastical devotee of Doomshallow’s hound Shadow Maw. He has seen the (to him) wonderfully dark land of Svartalfheim and glimpsed Doomshallow’s mountain kingdom of Soria. His banner is painted as a symbol of Soria. Those trained in History can recognize the symbol as related to the world of Svartalfheim on a successful check (DC 20). The black painted maws are obvious symbols of the Barghest Shadow Maw.

If approached, the fanatics immediately recognize the players as intruders and attack. They shout to raise an alarm. This brings the other fanatics from area 6 with the two wolf riders arriving by round 2 and the rest from area 6 arriving by round 3. By round 5, the regular goblins from area 4 arrive. The bridge ogre in area 3 is too self-interested to be bothered unless directly ordered by one of the goblin fanatics to engage. If things are going badly after the first round of combat, Snarloc Crutke orders two goblins to run off and roust the ogre. If these goblins reach the ogre, they return with it on round 4. In combat, Snarloc wields a major Deep Shard Scimitar (See Ominous Signs Before the Breach)– granting him an additional +1 to hit, +1 to damage and +1 necrotic damage on a critical hit. He commands his goblins to incapacitate the PCs if possible — he intends to bring them to Shadow Maw for execution and collection of their death remains as Deep Shard Crystals.

The fearful goblins in area 5 stay put if the fanatics are attacked, hoping that this new event can somehow aid in their escape. The gate guards in areas 10 and 1 stay at their posts. Though if things go badly for Snarloc, one of the gate guards in area 10 to the south will alert a wolf rider in area 11 to send a message to Shadow Maw that her goblins are under attack. This rider, however, never makes it to Shadow Maw and is instead trapped and eaten by the Undead Giant Spiders in areas 15 and 16.

Treasure: If the fanatical goblins and hobgoblins are defeated, players searching the bodies and the tents find Snarloc’s major Deep Shard Scimitar, 57 gold, 10 electrum, 107 silver, 43 copper, and a black opal worth 50 gold along with 72 arrows, two longswords, three scimitars, and one suit of serviceable chain mail (all normal items re-sellable for half value).

3. Ogre’s Bridge

Polluted water flows under a finely constructed bridge lit by two oily torches. A fat ogre holding a gigantic spiked club leers at you as you approach. He thrusts a hand the size of a dinner plate out toward you, the wicked light of greed glinting in his eyes. In garbled common, he says “Want cross? Pay Smash. No pay? Then swim in nasty water.” He gives a wicked chuckle, seeming to relish the thought of you struggling through filthy water.

Smash Face is a greedy Ogre who’s planted himself beside this bridge to demand tribute for anyone crossing. Smash Face isn’t discerning. He’ll accept food, coppers, even pieces of gear or clothing (he uses any clothes gifted as a napkin to wipe his filthy face). If the party gives him gold, he’ll offer to carry the person giving him the gold across the bridge on his shoulders.

Smash Face doesn’t much care for the fate of the goblins. He’s got his bridge and that’s what makes him happy. Though he’s obliged to fight at the command of the goblin boss Snarloc, he does so reluctantly. If he loses more than 50 percent of his hit points in any fight, he’ll return to his bridge, roll himself into a ball, and hide under it while crying big ogre tears over the cruelness of the world. If attacked at his bridge, Smash Face will fight to the death to defend his precious home and source of income.

Treasure: Snarloc hides his loot in a sack underneath his bridge. His sack contains — one half eaten goat, one cooked chicken, one pot of potato stew, 531 copper pieces, 223 silver pieces, 15 gold, a golden ring worth 25 gold, and a platinum brooch worth 100 gold. The potato stew will provide three rations — each granting a short rest. The goat and the chicken are too old and rotten to provide proper sustenance for the players. If they attempt to eat either, describe their rotted state. If they persist, any player consuming either must succeed in a DC 12 Constitution save or be poisoned for one hour.

4. Regular Goblin and Hobgoblin Camp

Goblins and hobgoblins gather around the fire, eat food, and sharpen weapons. They peer out into the darkness, clutch at their swords or bows, and otherwise seem ready for a fight.

Twelve goblins and four hobgoblins occupy this cluster of tents. If approached, they send a hobgoblin and two goblins to intercept the party. If party members are in disguise as hobgoblins, they ask the party “what you want?” If they recognize the party members as adventurers, they attack.

Noise from any combat will draw the attention of the two guards in area 10 on round 2. By round 3, the alerted fanatics from area 2 arrive to join the fray. Once engaged in combat, all monsters involved will fight to the death.

Treasure: 20 gold, 15 silver, 32 copper, two suits of chainmail, two shields, one longsword, one longbow, four scimitars (all re-sellable at half value).

5. Mila Gloomflower and the Fearful Goblins

A cluster of seven tents occupies the southern section of Goblin Town. Their residents appear to hide, cowering in the shadows, or peaking through tent openings as you approach. A lone goblin, her spikey blue hair glinting in the firelight cautiously draws near to you as she clutches a ragged doll to her chest with one hand, apparently for comfort. A short sword of Deep Shard glints darkly in the other. She appears to be the only goblin brave enough to confront you. Though she holds a weapon, she does not appear to threaten.

Mila Gloomflower is a goblin AI who was swallowed by Shadow Maw when she was sent into the Hollow of Horrors to serve as hunt fodder by Snarloc. Mila used her Major Deep Shard Short Sword (stolen from a goblin fanatic before she was cast into the Hollow) to stab the inside of Shadow Maw’s throat as she tumbled down into the darkness of Shadow Maw’s gullet. Shadow Maw spat her out into a crevice of void beneath a tangle of Yggdrasil’s roots. Mila was swirled off by a cold current into Ginnungagap only to be sloshed about in an eddy of darkness and then emerge among another tangle of Yggdrasil roots nearby. At last free, she was able to make her way back to her goblin family in area 5.

After surviving this ordeal, Mila discovered the emergence of strange powers. She is now a level 1 Shadow Magic Sorcerer / level 1 Arcane Cleric (See Appendix below). Though young, she’s now a driving force among the fearful goblins. Her words have already inspired some to take the risk to escape. She’s sticking around to see if the other goblins in her little community are willing to also give it a try. But if they delay too long, she’ll soon strike out on her own.

Mila speaks both Common and Goblin. She’s curious about the adventurers and is willing to talk. She first asks if the adventurers are here to defeat Shadow Maw. She appears hopeful. If they tell Mila about their quest she reveals the following.

  1. The goblins in area 5 are fearful and want to escape Shadow Maw.
  2. Rayvol the goblin alchemist in area has healing potions that he may be willing to sell or give the adventurers if they tell him they’re here to deal with Shadow Maw.
  3. The goblin tents here can be used for hiding and rest. The player will just have to convince the community elder Wimbler Crobix to take them in.
  4. Mila is willing to cast Healing Word on one player who is wounded.
  5. If the players ask Mila to accompany them, she agrees if they succeed on a DC 14 Persuasion check. She is otherwise willing to help them if they return to area 5.
  6. If asked about Shadow Maw, Mila says: “She hungers to consume all who live here. Even I was swallowed by her. But I was lucky and escaped. She says she eats us to send us to serve her Lord. A dwarf called Doomshallow. Though she eats her followers, she lusts for adventurers even more. She came from a darkness in some roots behind her throne in the Hollow. The fanatics say she came from a place called Soria in Svartalfheim. Two from Soria — a dark elf and a dwarf are always near her.”

Twelve goblins and three hobgoblins reside in the seven tents scattered throughout area 5. Their numbers were reduced after one hobgoblin and seven goblins took an opportunity to flee about a day ago. Wimbler Crobix, an old hobgoblin is their present leader. He at first seems suspicious of the adventurers. But if they succeed in a DC 15 Persuasion Check after telling him about their mission to defeat Shadow Maw, Wimbler will offer the players rest in one of the goblin tents.

Other than Mila, the fearful goblins cannot be convinced to fight Shadow Maw, the fanatics, or the other goblins. However, the fight may come to them. The first time the players use a tent to spend an hour to receive a long rest, nothing happens. However, the second time the players rest in area 5, fanatics from area 2 spying on the fearful goblin camp discover them and organize an assault. They gather all the goblins in area 2, 6, and 4 along with two guards from area 10 and the two wolf riders from area 11 to attack. The players find their rest interrupted as battle commences. However, their new goblin allies immediately cast off restraint and join the fight. If the fanatics have already been defeated, then the players may rest undisturbed. But if the players rest a third time, Shadow Maw spits out a force of 10 skeletons, 8 zombies, and 6 shadows from Svartalfheim, led by a hobgoblin to march to Goblin Town. If they discover the fanatics have been defeated, they surmise the cause and attack the goblins and the PCs in area 5.

Treasure: 25 gold, 22 silver, 11 copper, Mila’s Deep Shard Shortsword, and one garnet pendant worth 50 gold.

6. Shrine to Shadow Maw

Each entrance to this cave is guarded by a goblin riding a wolf. Flickering fire light spills out from a cave bordered by dark, crystalline pillars. Beyond, you can see three goblins and a hobgoblin chanting and prostrating themselves before an idol atop an alter. The idol is made of carved granite and worked with silver. It depicts a fiendish hound that holds an orb of obsidian in its mouth. The entire wicked assemblage is presided over by a goblin wearing a robe with the sign of black open jaws blazoned on its front. This goblin carries a staff which it waves about as it preaches its unholy screed.

This room is guarded by two goblins — each riding a darkling wolf (A darkling wolf is a wolf bred by goblins for cave fighting. Darkling wolf stats are the same as those of a regular wolf from the Monster Manual, page 341, except that these wolves possess darkvision of 60 feet.). Inside is the goblin shaman (see appendix below) Nard Ulpa. He babbles wild prayers to Shadow Maw, singing her praises and spewing garbled nonsense words as he is overtaken by fanatical fervor. Three goblins and one hobgoblin join in with this mad idolatry prostrating themselves before the carved image of Shadow Maw.

In this room, goblin fantatics indoctrinate and brain-wash their followers. If approached by the players, the goblins immediately recognize them as invaders and attack. If the PCs haven’t yet confronted the fanatics in area 2, Nard sends one wolf and rider off to alert Snarloc. If this alert is raised, Snarloc arrives on round 3 followed by the goblin regulars from area 4 by round 5. If things get desperate, Snarloc then sends two goblins for the ogre at the bridge who arrives by round 6.

Treasure: The idol of Shadow Maw is worth 250 gold. Nard carries a fat purse filled with 40 gold pieces, 3 platinum pieces, and 72 silver pieces. The goblins have 14 gold, 12 silver, and 22 copper between them. They also have one sellable scimitar and one sellable suit of chainmail (half value).

7. Pristine Middens

A natural stone stair leads down to this softly luminous chamber. Large blue crystals provide cool lighting. The area is surprisingly clean and free of debris. The only refuse is a goblin skeleton that appears to hang from the wall to your right as you descend.

The hanging goblin remains to the right is actually suspended in a gelatinous cube (Monster Manual, 242). A DC 15 Perception check from the PCs reveals the cube for what it is. If the players descend the stairs without recognizing the cube, it lunges toward them as it attacks. It is otherwise content to stay in this room and allow goblins to dump their trash which it eats, along with the occasional goblin.

This room is one of the goblin’s garbage dumps. It is empty, however, because the cube eats everything the goblins cast here. The other garbage dump is the river — which is nonsensical as the goblins have an easy means of getting rid of trash in the form of the cube. Instead, they use carrying trash to the cube room as a punishment that may result in the trash carriers being eaten. The goblins and hobgoblins are also too lazy to devise a safe way for their fellows to drop trash into the cube’s lair. Often, goblins sent on trash duty just sneakily dump trash into the river instead. So the goblins are forced to subsist on nasty, polluted water.

8. Waterfall and Ooze

The lights fade as you approach a waterfall at the far end of Goblin Town. Deposits of metal paint the walls in veins of red and copper. Water from the fall swirls into a polluted pool — dark and foreboding.

This dark end is where the goblins mine their metal for weapon forging. Veins of iron and copper are plainly visible in the walls. However, a gray ooze lurks in the pool. This monster occasionally devours a goblin even as it nibbles on the tailings from the goblins’ mining. The predator ooze spits out any gold, however, which it cannot devour. This gold has accumulated in the bottom of its pool. Any adventurer carrying a torch will see it glistening beneath the polluted waters.

The pool is 10 feet deep. So adventurers trying to retrieve gold from the pool’s bottom will have to dive in. Swimming will alert the ooze who lurks under an out-cropping in the waterfall above the pool. It need only fall down on adventurers removing coins from. It is very well hidden and can only be discerned with a successful DC 20 Perception check.

Treasure: The pool contains 134 gold pieces. It takes about twenty minutes of diving to retrieve these scattered coins from the pool’s bottom.

9. Rayvol the Goblin Alchemist

An elderly goblin wearing goggles, a heavy leather apron, and work gloves fiddles with various potions and materials in a ragged lean-to against the cavern wall. A weak fire smolders in front of his humble home which is lit from the inside by various jars of glowing liquid.

This goblin is the alchemist Rayvol. He developed his skill at alchemy weeks before and has been practicing here ever since. When Shadow Maw and her goblin fanatics moved in, he couldn’t be bothered. However, her threats have now interfered with Rayvol’s work. Unlike the fearful goblins, Rayvol doesn’t want to leave. He just wants to be left alone to conduct his research. Because he sees Shadow Maw as a threat to his efforts, he is willing to help PCs who are polite to him.

  1. Rayvol will give the PCs up to three healing potions so long as they pledge to ‘deal with Shadow Maw and those damned fanatics.’
  2. Rayvol has four more healing potions which he will sell to the PCs for cost (half price).
  3. Rayvol has the following items for sale — 3 +1 arrows (30 gold), a Potion of Enlarge (150 gold), and a Potion of Darkvision (50 gold).

Rayvol also possesses a Teleportation Crystal which he crafted after examining a player’s crystal in exchange for alchemical aid. If Rayvol is attacked, he uses his reaction to activate his crystal and teleport to a local safe zone in Nidavellir where he works a small shop front as an NPC. He cultivated this persona through an system exploit and has been living a double life ever since. Though he is loathe to abandon the cave and its numerous alchemical resources, he will not risk his life by remaining here. If Rayvol is forced to teleport away by aggressive PCs, he uses his exploits to bring his valuables along with him. The PCs who drove him off are then left with various bits of junk.

10. Hollow of Horrors Guard Posts

Two hobgoblins guard an opening that plunges down into darkness. Even the monsters appear uneasy in their positions, often glancing behind them as if expecting something terrible to creep up from the depths.

There are two entrances to the Hollow of Horrors. Both are guarded by two hobgoblin regulars. They are instructed to keep those living in the cavern out of the Hollow. However, at times, various residents of Goblin Town are seized and forced into the Hollow as fodder for Shadow Maw or for various other predatory denizens. If approached by players, the guards ready to fight when they recognize them as adventurers. They do not start combat against the players, though they will defend themselves. If the players communicate that they wish to enter the Hollow, the guards laugh, ask for one gold piece for each player, and allow them to pass. The guards believe they are sending the PCs to their death — allowing the monsters of the Hollow to do their dirty work for them. They will, however, not allow the players to return to Goblin Town without a fight.

Treasure: Each set of guards has 10 gold and drops one suit of useable chainmail (resellable for half value) if defeated by the players.

The Hollow of Horrors

This deadly warren of caverns serves as Shadow Maw’s main hunting ground. Deep caves collect pools of unlight. Yggdrasil’s roots pierce sections of floor and wall, spilling out the pitch darkness of Ginnungagap and causing light sources to dim. It is these roots that provided Shadow Maw’s first pathways to Midgard from Svartalfheim. The shadows of Ginnungagap, like the mouth of Shadow Maw, have a life-sapping influence on the creatures inhabiting the Hollow. Over time, those venturing there take on undead qualities. Mad goblins, crazed hobgoblins, their darkling wolves, various undead, and hunted prey all inhabit these dark and twisted caverns.

Lighting

There are no sources of light in the Hollow. In addition, pools of darkness around Yggdrasil’s roots reduce any light source provided by the players by one level. For example, a light spell would only produce dim light in a 20 foot radius while within an area of shadow near Yggdrasil’s roots.

Ceilings

Unless otherwise noted, ceilings are 10 feet high in passages, 15 feet high in open areas.

No Teleportation Crystals

Teleportation Crystals are deactivated within the Hollow of Horrors. Players wishing to teleport out must first at least return to Goblin Town which may require fighting the hobgoblins in area 10 in order to escape.

Reaching Level 3

It is possible that the players gain enough experience points to reach level 3 while in the Hollow. Unless they can return to Goblin Town and rest in area 5 or use their Teleportation Crystals to return to a Safe Zone and rest in an Inn, the players will be unable to gain their next level. Players who gain their level by resting in Goblin Town still need to visit a Home Town to receive training before the next long rest. Otherwise, they lose the benefits of their level up as their skill become perishable. If players rest at an Inn, they return to find that Shadow Maw has reinforced Goblin Town with 10 skeletons, 8 zombies, 6 shadows and 1 hobgoblin.

11. Cavorting Wolf Riders

Loud yips, howls and cries issue from this dark cavern as two vicious goblins riding their dark cave wolf mounts circle this chamber in search of prey.

Two goblins riding two darkling wolves roam about this area hunting for prey. They’ve inhabited the Hollow long enough to be afflicted by its madness. So they are neither quiet nor cunning. Instead they howl in wicked and vicious delight as animalistic urges consume them. They are also ravenous, attacking any creatures that enter this area without hesitation.

These creatures have not yet succumbed to the undeath brough about by Ginnungagap spilling out from the roots in this chamber’s western portion. However, they can now communicate with the undead in areas 12 and 13. Upon seeing any intruders and initiating combat, they give loud, barking cries which bring the goblin skeletons from area 12 on round 2 and the zombie ogre from area 13 on round 3.

Treasure: Each goblin wields a serviceable shortbow and scimitar which can be resold for half price.

12. Goblin Skeletons

This chamber is scattered with bones and coins. The bones appear gnawed on, splintered, but not consumed.

Four goblin skeletons inhabit this dark chamber. Though they no longer need to eat, they still hunger and often crouch here gnawing the bones cast aside by the goblins and wolves in area 11. These skeletons are aggressive and will attack any creature they encounter other than the goblins in area 11, hobgoblin patrols, or other undead. They may also be summoned by the goblins in area 11.

Treasure: 13 gold, 22 silver and 5 coppers are scattered throughout this room.

13. Ogre Zombie

This foul chamber is smeared with gore and grime. The stench wafting out from it is unbearable. Various roots pierce its walls, dredging up the darkness of Ginnungagap.

Smash Face’s brother Mij Norjda, known as an incoherent babbler of obscenities, was sent to the Hollow to serve as monster fodder. His continuous mad ravings have infected the minds of the two goblins occupying area 11.

Mij Norjda is an ogre zombie. He has formed a rudimentary pact with the goblins in area 11 and will respond to their summons.

Treasure: Mij Norjda’s single treasure is a piece of sapphire jewelry cut in the shape of a blue cornflower set in gold. He keeps it in a red and black box in a cleaner corner of his filth-infested room. This piece of jewelry is worth 150 gold.

14. Roper Bait

The passageway widens into a chamber ahead. Shadows of Ginnungagap spill from its northwest wall through a break produced by a tangle of Yggdrasil roots.

Two goblin skeletons occupy this larger chamber. They position themselves to ambush any travelers in the Hollow. One hides behind the pillar, the other in the hallway to the southeast. Once they see anyone other than undead, goblins, or hobgoblins traveling in this passage, they pop out from around the corner to each shoot an arrow. They then flee toward area 17 — hoping to bait victims into the waiting tentacles of the Roper there.

15. & 16. Ghoul and Ghast Giant Spiders

The area up ahead exudes an air of heavy menace. Foulness and stench waft toward you even as the darker shadows there seem to twitch.

Area 16 is occupied by three Ghoul Giant Spiders, Area 15 is occupied by a Ghast Giant Spider. These predators predated both Shadow Maw and the invasion of Yggdrasil’s roots. They were a cluster of monsters never cleared away by earlier forays of adventurers — effectively slaying many such travelers through use of their lethal ambush tactics.

Each ghoul giant spider uses the Giant Spider stat block with the following exceptions. Each spider’s bite does 2d6+3 piercing damage and a bitten creature must make a DC 11 Constitution save or be paralyzed for one minute. The target can repeat this saving throw at the end of each of its turns.

Undead Spiders battle map

The ghast giant spider also uses the Giant Spider stat block. However, its hit points are increased to 36. It gains resistance to necrotic damage. It exudes a stench such that creatures within 5 feet of it must make a DC 10 Constitution save or be poisoned until the start of their next turn. On a successful save creatures are immune to this stench for 24 hours. The ghast giant spider’s bite does 2d8+3 damage. Creatures bitten by the ghast giant spider must also make a DC 10 Constitution save or be paralyzed for one minute, repeating the save at the end of each of its turns.

The ghoul giant spiders are CR 1 Undead. The ghast giant spider is a CR 2 undead with turn resistance.

Across each entrance, and before the visible webbing, the spiders have laid alert lines. These lines are low and well hidden — requiring a DC 17 Perception check to notice. If the PCs do not notice them, all spiders are simultaneously alerted to the player’s presence. Once alert, the spiders pop out to fling webs at their foes, then withdraw back into shadow. This tactics are meant to break up the movement and momentum of anyone entering the spiders’ lair. If the characters move in, the spiders then surround players while trying to bite them — trying to set up situations where two spiders can focus on one adventurer until down or paralyzed. Then, the spiders circle back to dispatch any foes still stuck in their webs.

If players avoid the trip lines, they still much succeed in a party Stealth Check (DC 15) to approach without alerting the spiders. However, if the players enter the visible webs on the map, the spiders are alerted. Visible webs are difficult terrain. They may be burned away at the rate of 5 feet per round as an action by players holding a source of fire. In any case, the spiders have blindsight 10 and will see anything within range of their darkvision 60. The spiders stick to their own Yggdrasil root (one for each root in area 16 and for the one root in area 15).

If the players defeat the spiders, read the following.

This foul chamber’s walls are covered in spider webs enmeshing the long-dead remains of victims. The entire place is filled with the shadow and chill of Ginnungagap, it reeks of death.

Searching the chamber reveals various treasures that must be cut from the layers of webbing and decayed flesh from the spiders’ past victims.

Treasure: 1 Suit of Splint Mail sized for a human (or like), a bag containing 200 gold pieces, a Helm rimmed in platinum and set with zircon (200 gold), and a Wand of Magic Missiles.

17. Roper

This chamber is filled with rock formations that give the impression of a giant maw filled with teeth.

A Roper (Monster Manual, 261) inhabits this chamber. It has formed a macabre pact with the goblin skeletons in area 14. In exchange for luring prey into its reach, it allows the goblin skeletons to gnaw the bones of its victims. As with other skeletal goblins, these undead gain no sustenance from the bones. Although they find seem to find the gnawing action somehow satisfying.

The terrain in this chamber is broken by numerous rock formation and is considered difficult. The Roper occupies the southwestern wall near a cluster of Yggdrasil roots and Ginnungagap shadows. By keeping to these shadows, it is difficult to see for those without darkvision. It keeps alert to the sounds of the goblin skeletons’ arrows — which are notched so that they make a shrieking sound when they fly. If the Roper hears this sound, add it to the initiative count with a readied action to use a tendril on the first creature that passes in front of its lair entrance. It has advantage on this first attack unless the player has some unexpected means of sensing the Roper.

Once the goblin skeletons have lured prey to the Roper, they turn to harass the party with arrow fire.

Treasure: Near the roper in a pile of regurgitated remains are 3 gems. One is a garnet with 75 gold. One an emerald worth 100 gold. One a ruby worth 250 gold.

18. Captain Chumrod & Zombie Hobgoblins

This barracks once contained an organized force of hobgoblins under the command of Captain Chumrod. It is now a shambles filled with milling undead barely contained by the will of their Captain whom they still hold a vestige of loyalty to.

The hobgoblins have now all been transformed into zombies and skeletons by the dark nature of the Hollow. That said, these undead hobgoblins both still listen to their commander even as they tend to move with an otherworldly celerity. Captain Chumrod is a Hobgoblin Captain. He rides a Worg. He command four zombies and four skeletons. Both of these undead use typical stat blocks with the exception that their speed has been increased by 5 feet, their armor class is increased by 1, and the skeletons use longbows (1d8+2 damage). Captain Chumrod can also use his commanding presence feature to increase the likelihood that zombies will succeed on their fortitude saves to remain standing.

Treasure: Captain Chumrod wears chaimail, a longsword, and a longbow. All are in good repair and can be sold at half price in the marketplace. In addition, his purse contains 50 gold.

19. Giant Ghoulish Rats

Within the shadowy confines of this side-chamber dwell eight undead Giant Rats. They live in the tangle of Yggdrasil roots and shadows at the northern end of this chamber. These rats use the same stat block as regular giant rats with the exception that their bites cause paralysis to those who fail a DC 8 Constitution save. This paralysis lasts for one minute unless the creature succeeds on this save at the end of each of their turns. It otherwise acts as ghoul paralysis.

The giant ghoulish rats are both hungry and aggressive. They will attack anyone entering the chamber or any non-undead, non-goblin passing outside the chamber.

20. Cowering Victim

To the left, the shadows deepen even as the passage widens into a larger room. You can hear a soft whimpering coming from a dark area overtaken by Yggdrasil’s roots.

A level 2 High Elf Circle of the Moon Druid OPC named WhiteCat69 (see Appendix) huddles in this empty room alone and afraid. She was captured by hobgoblins and thrown into the Hollow as fodder for one of Shadow Maw’s hunts. Not allowed food and deprived of a means to rest, she is out of leveled spells, has only half her hit points remaining and only has one use of wild shape left. She still has her equipment, though, and is relieved to the point of near-hysteria if the PCs offer to let her join their party. If asked about her name, she says — “Oh that. Yeah, my brother dared me to use the number 69 in my name. For some reason, he finds this hilarious.” An Insight 12 Check by the players reveals that WhiteCat69 doesn’t get the joke.

21. & 22. Captain Shraevok and the Shadows

A deathly quiet hangs about these open caverns.

Four shadows cluster near the Yggdrasil roots in area 21. They immediately move to attack any living thing that enters this chamber, making loud shrieks to alert Captain Shraevok in area 22. Shraevok is a hobgoblin turned wight who has made a bed of sorts out of a cluster of Yggdrasil roots. He wields a Major Deep Shard Longsword (granting him +1 to hit and damage while dealing 1 additional necrotic damage on a critical strike) and is accompanied by two zombies who lurch about near the corners of his chamber — the result of him slaying two adventurers with his life drain ability during recent hunts.

Treasure: Major Deep Shard Longsword, a small chest containing 30 platinum, 100 gold, and a Tiger Eye worth 50 gold.

Doomshallow’s Hound — The Barghest Shadow Maw

Shadow Maw’s throne chamber is divided into three sections — the entry (area 23), the throne room (area 24), and the shadow gate (area 25). The ceiling of the entry and throne room are 20 feet high. Near the shadow gate, the ceiling dips down to 15 feet. Lighting in the entry is dark. Lighting in the throne room is dim, dark within 10 feet of the Yggdrasil root, and bright within 10 feet of a braziers.

Shadow Maw’s Throne

23. 24. & 25. Throne Entry

Before you is an area covered in shadow. Your eyes catch lurching movement, ears pick up the clink of readied weapons. Beyond the darkness is an open chamber. Its center is dominated by a sprout of Yggdrasil roots which spill a flood of shadow. Orange light erupts from braziers — illuminating a dwarf-crafted throne on a dais of obsidian. Behind the throne — a yawning portal. A gate in a massive swirl of Yggdrasil roots. In the room, goblin skeletons ready weapons. A drow and a duergar stand coiled on the dais. The shadows in front of you seem to swarm. On the throne sits a female goblin holding a flail of Deep Shard. From her mouth spills tendrils of shadow like smoke. When she opens her mouth, you gaze into nothing. “Welcome, prey,” she says to you, “How polite of you to present yourselves to me.”

Within area 23 are six zombie hobgoblins they use the same stat block as zombies except they move at a rate of 30. They are commanded by the hobgoblin captain Nit Thayn — who immediately activates his leadership trait to keep his cohort in the fight by assisting their zombie fortitude saves. Captain Nit rides a worg.

The throne room (area 24) is guarded by six hobgoblin and goblin skeletons. Two shadows lurk in the darkness surrounding the Yggdrasil root. Upon the dais is a drow named Thes Ornga and a squat old Duergar emissary from Doomshallow named Clasher Hocke wearing a necklace of glittering jewels.

Shadow Maw is presently in her goblin boss form. In this form, Shadow Maw possesses the following additional traits and items:

  1. Maximum hit points (36).
  2. 16 strength.
  3. A Major Deep Shard Flail (which has a reach of 10, does 1d8+6 damage, adds +1 to hit and damage, and adds 1 necrotic damage on a crit).
  4. She can use her redirect attack reaction on any ally in area 23, 24, or 25.

When her goblin form reaches zero hit points, Shadow Maw transforms into a Barghest. In this form she appears as a large fiendish hound with elongated black fangs and a mouth dripping darkness.

  1. The horrid bites from Shadow Maw in her Barghest form do an additional 1d6 points of necrotic damage.
  2. If Shadow Maw ends her turn in a pool of darkness near a Yggdrasil root, she regains 10 hit points.
  3. PCs slain by Shadow Maw’s bites instantly have their remnants transformed into Deep Shard regardless of whether they are standing in the areas affected by the Ginnungagap’s shadows.
  4. Shadow Maw can spend an action to devour a Deep Shard remnant to regain 15 hit points.
  5. Shadow Maw can spend an action to belch forth an undead ally from Svartalfheim. Roll a d3. On a roll of 1 the ally is a skeleton, 2 a zombie, and 3 a shadow. This ability recharges on a 5 or 6 on a D6.

Flanking the throne are two braziers. In addition to emitting light, a creature stepping or forced into a brazier’s space takes 1d6 fire damage.

Behind the throne is an open gateway to Svartalfheim. This is the root path Shadow Maw originally took to enter these chambers. The players cannot yet enter Svartalfheim unless they have possessed a Deep Shard item for 10 days or are standing within five feet of a such a player while touching them. Within this chamber is a shadow. If combat begins in the throne room, the shadow phases through the dais to stand beside Shadowmaw.

Treasure: Shadow Maw possesses a Major Deep Shard Flail. A locked chest behind her throne contains 1,000 gold, 300 silver, and 250 copper.

Within the chest is a message to Shadow Maw bearing the seal of King Doomshallow (A black mountain with a gaping red entrance opening like a mouth.)

“Your gifts of servants have made you the greatest of my hounds. We shall use them in our coming war against Midgard. Continue. Gather your forces and send me more of these servants. I find them both wonderous and dark.”

Shadow Maw’s crown is made of obsidian and is worth 150 gold.

Clasher Hocke’s necklace is made of gold which encrusts three bloodstones. This piece of jewelry is worth 250 gold.

Hidden in a secret compartment (DC 15 Perception) under the obsidian dais is Phoenix Tear (see Appendix).

APPENDIX

This module includes one new magic item in the form of Phoenix Tear. In addition, the stats for a key O(PCs) — Mila Gloomflower and WhiteCat69 — are included below.

Magic Items

Phoenix Tear (Legendary, Weapon, Dormant)

This item appears to be a glove made of a crystalline mesh in the shapes of hundreds of tiny teardrops. While wearing the glove, you may use a bonus action to summon a blade of pure radiance into your hand. So long as the blade exists, it acts as a magical longsword with the finesse and versatile properties. If you are proficient with shortswords or longswords, you are proficient with Phoenix Tear. You may use a bonus action to dismiss any blade summoned in this way. If the blade leaves your hand, it disappears after one round.

In its present, dormant state, Phoenix Tear can be used to summon a +1 weapon that does radiant damage. It may be awakened and its powers thus increased by certain events throughout this adventure series.

Phoenix Tear is the sister glove to Star Rain — which may be found elsewhere in the world of Battlestorm Online.

OPC and Monster Stats

Stats for Mila Gloomflower, Goblin Shamans, and WhiteCat69 are found below.

Mila Gloomflower — 5e stats

Small Goblin, neutral

Armor Class 12 (15) (mage armor)
Hit Points 15
Speed 30 ft.

STRDEXCONINTWISCHA
8 (-1)14 (+2)14 (+2)11 (0)16 (+3)13 (+1)

Saving Throws Con +4, Cha +3
Skills Insight +5, Arcana +2, Perception +5, Religion +2, Stealth +4
Senses passive Perception 15, darkvision 120
Languages Common, Goblin

Magic Weapon. Mila Gloomflower has a Major Deep Shard Short Sword (attack stats adjusted).

Arcane Initiate. Mila Gloomflower has training in the Arcana Skill. In addition, she gains two cantrips from the wizard spell list. These are cleric spells for her.

Eyes of the Dark. Mila Gloomflower has darkvision of 120 feet.

Strength of the Grave. Mila Gloomflower exists in a twilight state between life and death that makes her difficult to defeat. When damage reduces her to 0 hit points, she can make a Charisma saving throw (DC 5 + the damage taken). On a success, she instead drops to 1 hit point. She can’t use this feature if she is reduced to 0 hit points by radiant damage or by a critical hit.

After the saving throw succeeds, she can’t use this feature again until she finishes a long rest.

Spellcasting. Mila Gloomflower is a 2nd-level spellcaster. His spellcasting ability is Wisdom and Charisma (spell save DC 13, +5 to hit with spell attacks, and spell save DC 11, +3 to hit with spell attacks). She has the following spells prepared:

ACTIONS

  • Firebolt. Spell Attack: +5 to hit, range 120 feet, one target. Hit: 6 (1d10) fire damage.
  • Greenflame Blade. Melee Weapon Attack: +5 to hit, range 5 feet, one target. Hit: 7 (1d6+3) fire damage. Second target within 5 takes 3 fire damage. Critical: +1 necrotic damage.
  • Magic Missile. Ranged Spell Attack: Auto hit. Range 120 feet. 3d4+3 force damage.
  • Inflict Wounds. Melee Spell Attack: +5 to hit, range 5 feet, one target. Hit: 3d10 (18) necrotic damage.
  • Guiding Bolt. Ranged Spell Attack: +5 to hit, range 120 feet, one target. Hit: 4d6 (16) radiant damage and target grants advantage to next attack roll against it.

DESCRIPTION

MiIa Gloomflower is a Goblin with cold gray skin and blue hair. She clutches an old raggedy doll in one hand and wields a deep shard short sword in the other.

**********

Goblin Shaman

Small humanoid (goblinoid), neutral evil

  • Armor Class 15 (Leather Armor, Shield)
  • Hit Points 17 (5d6)
  • Speed 30 ft.
  • STR 10 (+0), DEX 14 (+2), CON 10 (+0), INT 10 (+0), WIS 14 (+2), CHA 10 (+0)
  • Skills Perception +4, Stealth +6, Medicine +4
  • Senses Darkvision 60 Ft., passive Perception 14
  • Languages Common, Goblin
  • Challenge 1 (200 XP)
  • Nimble Escape. The goblin can take the Disengage or Hide action as a bonus action on each of its turns.
  • Staff. Melee Weapon Attack: +2 to hit, reach 5 ft., one target. Hit: 4 (1d6) bludgeoning damage.
  • Spellcasting. The goblin is a 3rd-level spellcaster. Its spellcasting ability is Wisdom (spell save DC 12, +4 to hit with spell attacks). It has the following Druid spells prepared:
  • Cantrips (at will): Druidcraft, Poison Spray, Thorn Whip
  • 1st Level (4 slots): Entangle, Cure Wounds, Thunderwave
  • 2nd Level (2 slots): Heat Metal, Spike Growth

************

WhiteCat69 — 5e stats

Medium Elf, neutral good

Armor Class 13 (leather armor
Hit Points 17 (presently 9)
Speed 30 ft.

STRDEXCONINTWISCHA
8 (-1)14 (+2)14 (+2)12 (+1)16 (+3)12 (+1)

Saving Throws Wis +5, Cha +3
Skills Insight +5, Nature +2, Perception +5, Animal Handling +5
Senses passive Perception 15, darkvision 60
Languages Common, Elfish

Circle Forms. WhiteCat69 has the ability to transform into more dangerous animal forms. She can use her Wild Shape to transform into a beast with a challenge rating as high as 1. She uses this ability to shape change into a white lion during combat.

Combat Wild Shape. WhiteCat69 can use Wild Shape on her turn as a bonus action, rather than as an action. Additionally, while she is transformed by Wild Shape, she may use a bonus action to expend one spell slot to regain 1d8 hit points per level of the spell slot expended (when found in area 20, WhiteCat69 no longer has any spell slots remaining).

Spellcasting. WhiteCat69is a 2nd-level spellcaster. His spellcasting ability is Wisdom (spell save DC 13, +5 to hit with spell attacks). She has the following spells prepared:

ACTIONS

  • Create Bonfire. Spell: One five foot cube of fire on the ground within 60 feet. DC 13 Dexterity save or take 5 (1d8) fire damage. Repeat save if creature enters fire or ends turn there.
  • Scimitar. Melee Weapon Attack: +4 to hit, range 5 feet, one target. Hit: 6 (1d6+2) slashing damage.

DESCRIPTION

WhiteCat69 is a female elf with white hair and cat-like tabby paint marking on her face and neck. She is battered from her capture and numerous scrapes with monsters in the Hollow.

Helkey 31 — Battle of Sunken Crag, Desperate Moves

My little ragtag army of Mottles, Urdrakes, and Plumacats is ready to go. Sure, they’re scared witless. Who wouldn’t be facing down the worst Hell has to offer in the form of scores of heavily armed devils?? Fiendish Drivers who want to nothing more than to kill your corpus, rip out your wisp, then force it to serve as a slave in a torturous worb. All led by terrible Overseers profiting from the horrible wisp trade. But our little force is fresh from two big victories against the devils of Overseer Tower. They’re also serious badasses. It’s starting to dawn on me that the Urdrakes and Plumacats are both some kind of uber predator. The Urdrakes are mini godzillas as giant snapping turtles — with the ability to shoot beams of killing light out of their frigging heads. Plumacats remind me of some tiger-velociraptor hybrid. Mottles, though not carnivorous, are like a badass mash-up of a giant bat with a cloaker from D&D. Yeah, after all the fighting, I’ve got D&D on my mind today. Deal.

I ride the nasty Vortex up to the canyon wall, my company of uber predators and other misfits following along in the Hell machine’s stinking wake. Its banshee-wail engine rips at my ears. Poor, tortured wisps churning inside a ring of spiritual teeth — spitting out soul-juice to spike the fossil-fuel crud devils burn in their engines. Clouds of noxious smoke rise around me.

I climb over the canyon’s lip, stare out across hills spilling into the Wisp Fields. Mists from earlier are now clear. Lights and shadows play together beneath a fractured night sky. At first, it’s tough to make out what I’m seeing. Though I’m pretty sure most of the lights are wisps, there’s a huge group of devils tooling about down there.

Grimjaw pads up beside me, points with a clawed hand into the lands below. “See them,” he growls. I follow the tip of his claw to a large force of devils churning across stinking lands. They’re still many miles away. A plume of back-lit smoke rises from their Vortexes which swarm around hulking scorpions — tail tips blazing in red-orange orbs from stolen wisp energy. They’re tough to miss once I know where to look. Still far off, so it’s understandable I overlooked them in omnis scientia. Grimjaw shifts his claw lower. “There too,” he says again in more of a whisper. I have to focus. After a few seconds, I catch a smoke plume against the night. Following it down, I see a cluster of flickering worbs. They’re close enough for me to hear the faint sound of Vortex engines wailing now that I’ve briefly throttled down my own nasty machine.

“I see them,” I reply. Mottle quivers as he shares in my senses. He’s excited, afraid, anticipating what’s to come.

Grimjaw shifts his hand a final time. He points above the wisps fields. I focus my sight. I can’t see shit. Closing my eyes, I shift to omnis scientia, then use its enhanced sight to follow Grimjaw’s claw to the point he’s indicating. At last I see the Uktena — its red-ribbon form threading through the night sky.

“Fuck!” I say as I recognize the devil-snake. I’d heard Grimjaw’s earlier report of the sighting. But I hoped the big Plumacat was somehow mistaken. The Uktena’s flying right for that big force of devils. It’s a rather slow flyer. But judging from its path and speed, it’ll meet with the larger devil force in about a half hour. I stare as Plumacats and Urdrake climb up onto the ridge beside me. Mottles glide overhead. Our scouts are already on the next ridge about a half mile away.

Theri and Zel pull up beside me on their own stinking Vortexes. Zaya’s flying overhead. The two wounded Plumacats wail in on their Vortexes behind us. “I want all of you to stay close to me,” I say to them. “Zaya, I’m going to need you again soon. Do you think you’ll be ready to change more wisps in about an hour?”

The Hell faerie hovers close, she has to shout over the wail of the stupid Vortexes. “I’ll have to rely on you more! But yes!”

“Fanfriggingtastic!” I turn to Zel and Theri. “What can you tell me about the scorpions? We took that one out really quick. But I don’t think I got a chance to see what it was fully capable of.”

Zel looks at Theri who replies. “The scorps are great machine monsters. Close in, they can shred about anything with their burning claws. The tails, are the bigger threat, though. They can steal raw wisp energy to throw glowing balls of destruction. Much larger than the fireball rounds. But slow. You’ll see them coming if they do. Better get out of the way.”

Fucking great. I was worried about something like this. Zel took out the tail of the first scorp we ambushed quick. So I didn’t get to see it in action. “How far can it throw its hell balls?”

“About ten miles. But like I said, they’re slow. You can see them coming. If you move, you can get out of their path.” This creates a new complication. The scorps are about eight miles out. Within range if the devils spot us. That’ll probably happen soon. Although one thing’s certain. I don’t intent to sit still.

“Frigging Great! Now follow me!” I gun my Vortex over to Zorfang. He’s got a cluster of Urdrakes near him. They’re walking in a shambling line along the ridge. Their pace is slow but steady. The measured movement is something I’ve thought about as we climb up to the ridge line. Soon, the larger devil force will see us. I’m going to need to move quick. But I’ve got to make sure I employ these Urdrake effectively or we’re all pretty much effed.

“I need to know what you’ve got, Zorfang,” I say to the massive godzilla turtle thing.

He tilts his giant reptile head down toward me giving a quizzical expression. It’s cute, even on a beast I know could bite my friggin arm off with one great snap of his serrated beak.

I point to the crystal formation at the top of his head. “How far do those shoot? Can you run out?”

Zorfang scratches at the crystal formation with a large claw. “Shoots as far as I see. But gets weak with distance. Up close, it cuts. Further, it heats. Further still, it will blind.”

I point down to the large group of devils in the Wisp Fields’ center. “What can you do to that?”

“If some look this way, we can blind them, perhaps.”

I point to the Uktena. “That?” I ask. I’m using omnis scientia to see it. I can’t fracking see it with my own eyes. I’m wondering if Zorfang can.

Zorfang looks in the direction I’m pointing. He casts about for a moment. Then, he closes his eyes. He tilts the crystal structure a little, then a small beam shoots out. In omnis scientia, I see the Uktena momentarily light up. Neat trick.

“Ahhh…” Zorfang hums. “Though closer, it is small and bobs around.” He seems to consider a moment more before replying. “Blind it. Three, maybe four of us can heat it.”

This is new information. “You can combine your beams?”

Zorfang nods.

I’m impressed. This is a hell of a capability. The Urdrakes may be slow, but they could lay down the literal heat over long distances. I felt like a commander of a laser artillery battery. Last of all, I point at the scouts closing in on their Vortexes. “And those?”

Zorfang doesn’t even hesitate. “Small cuts. We can heat the machines to explode.”

Amazing. “OK, Zorfang. That’s really helpful. So I’m going to take these Vortexes, the Mottles and the Plumacats out into the wisp fields. We’re going to be moving crazy fast. I want you to get your Urdrakes to hit that Uktena now. If you can, get him out of the air. But try not to make too much light, if you can.” I point to the next ridge line. “Then I want you to run to that ridge as fast as you can. You might have some fire hurled your way from those giant scorps.” I motion down to the larger force of devils. “So I want you guys to shoot, then move, shoot again, then move again. Keep ’em guessing. Get all the Urdrakes up there and be ready.”

Zorfang nods. “Yes father,” he says in his deep, musical tones, then begins to shuffle off.

“Wait a sec. I’m not quite finished.”

Zorfang pauses. I reach out a hand to touch his forehead. Casting my curse magic out, I connect him to omnis scientia. “Una!” I incant. Now he can see and hear through the sensor. I direct it to hover down next to me. “This is omnis scientia. It’s a sensor I’ve crafted out of magic. I’m taking it with me. I’ve just set it up so you can see me through it when you concentrate on me. Close your eyes. Try it out.”

Zorfang closes his eyes. “I can see Myra,” he says. “It is clearer than crystal sight.”

“Fantastic! Now, when I touch the sensor, you will also be able to hear me.” I reach out, drag my hand through the sensor’s curse-shaped body. “Like this,” I say as I touch it.

Zorfang shuffles in surprise as my voice is transmitted to him twice — once through regular sound and once through the sensor. “Yes! I hear!”

“OK. So you know what your first mission is, right?”

“The red snake in the sky. We try to heat or blind it. Then, on to that rise! Shoot, then move!” He sings the last bit loudly. He seems to be getting riled up.

“Excellent! After that, we’ll be in touch.” I tap my ear. I pause, look behind me at Rookfang. For a moment, I muse about their names. Neither actually has any real fangs. Just serrated beaks. I shake off my moment of bemusement. Grabbing Rookfang’s, arm, I slide him gently off the bike. Takes a lot of effort. The guy is huge. Weighs hundreds of pounds. He plunks down to the ground beside Zorfang. “One more thing. I’ll need you to take him with you. Get two of your stronger Urdrakes to carry him.”

Positions of Forces and Recent Events During the Battle of Sunken Crag

Zorfang looks down at Rookfang, then harrooms and affirmation. With a smile and a thumbs up, I ride off in the direction of Featherstar. She’s got ten Plumacats lined up. Eight of them have finally teamed with the remaining Mottles. Grimjaw, Shade, and his scout team flow into them. Theri, Zel, and the two wounded Plumacats on Vortexes ride up. Zaya hovers overhead. My stomach tightens as I take in this motley assortment. Together we number a mere thirty-seven. Including the scouts running out ahead, that’s forty-nine. Pretty thin. But I’m counting on the twenty-three frigging laser artillery Urdrakes I’m leaving behind to give us some heavy support. As I look over my force, I feel like I’m about to take a big drop on a huge roller coaster. But this rollercoaster is diving me straight into heavy combat. Stuff is about to get real brutal.

“The chips are down. It’s time for some desperate moves,” I say to them. “We’re heading out together. Our first objective is to take out that scout company.” I point in the direction of the ten devils on Vortexes heading toward us fast. “Next, we circle back to eliminate their main force. I’m counting on you to be swift and fierce. We’re going to punch ’em in the nose, then draw them into a fight they won’t make it out of.” I sound a lot more confident than I feel. But I’ve got to make them believe it’s possible. Otherwise, it won’t be. “The Urdrakes will set up in these hills to rain barrages of blinding and heating lights down on them. Don’t look back toward the hills.” I point to my eyes, then point back at them. “Eyes to the enemy.”

I ride to the downslope, summon my moonshadow blade, then point it at the leading force of devils. “Now charge!”

***********

Corviss flies through the air as swift as he can. It’s infuriatingly slow.

He’s not a fast flier — more a swimmer of air currents. While near the Vortexes, he can catch a slipstream and glide along. Carried forward by the bike’s motion.

His teleports are crazy-quick, but short distance. At most, his jumps cover about five hundred feet. Making such swift jumps is highly exerting. He’d panicked when the fireball blossomed around him above the canyon. The sudden expense of energy needed to escape its blast drained him. He might be able to jump once or twice more before succumbing to exhaustion. So he’s stuck coiling slowly through the air toward Lavross’s lumbering force. It’s frustrating. Lavross must know about the mage’s large and deadly gathering of Plumacats, Mottles, and Urdrakes.

“Lavross, Lavross… See me Lavross!” He laments, hoping the Overseer will spot him and send out his Vortex riders to scoop him up.

He rides toward a current of falling air he hopes will carry him to Lavross when his skin suddenly becomes blazing hot. He shrieks, JUMPS!, then spins to see where the fireball round came from. There is no fireball round! Just a painful burning sensation all over his body that lets him know the heat he felt was real. He spins in a spiral. His teleport brought him lower, but he still has the advantage of height for perspective. He looks toward the Razor Hills. It takes him a moment to make out the distant forms of Urdrakes in a line along a ridge. Then, a barrage of brilliant flashes shoots out from the Urdrakes. He feels another searing pain — this time over his face, his eyes. Darkness and burning swallow him. He JUMPS! again. Falls through a well of black. Slams into the ground.

All goes dark.

When Corviss wakes, he finds he’s lost all sight except his peripheral vision. A great black hole eats up his gaze. He tries to fly, but can’t gain perspective and slams into the ground again. Popping up, he tips his head to try to see the land around. There’s a nearby rise. He scrabbles atop it, tilts his head. The rim of sight is maddening in its illusiveness. He coils and spins as he tries to see. At last, he makes out the blurry form of a scorpion lumbering about five miles away in the corner of his gaze. Hissing in pain, frustration, and not a little fear, he begins to slither across the Wisp Fields, hoping some land predator doesn’t spot him in his damaged state. Now exhausted, his body aching, battered, stinging all over from burns, he wants nothing more than to sleep. To heal from the terrible damage done to him by the Urdrakes. Each twist of his body feels like it’s doing more damage. Regina did value him enough to grant him a healing infusion of wisp energy. Should he survive. A tickle of fear runs up his spine. Did she? Corviss crawls faster.

**********

Lavross snarls at the stupid psychic. “What the fuck are you telling me, then??” He yells. His fanged mouth bites off each word. He imagines they are chunks of this spineless wretch’s flesh.

The psychic, its long horns more like antennae than regular devils’ horns, wilts — its flesh turning from red to a light pink shade. Myzlic the psychic rides behind a hoary, burly Driver atop a Vortex. Though the machine’s wailing is enough to make Myzlic’s ears ring, somehow Lavross’s yelling seems even louder. “It’s a sending from one of Dressler’s psychics! Nymkat!” Myzlic shouts back. “She says the mage has Urdrake! You need to be careful! Regina’s sending a second group to reinforce yours!’

“I know about the fucking Urdrake! I saw their fucking lights! You think I’m a lemure? I’ve been an Overseer in these parts for a fucking hundred and twenty years!” Lavross shouts back. Stupid psychics and that bitch Regina pointing out the fucking obvious. And she’s sending a damned follow-on-force… That means one thing. Regina’s lost confidence in his ability to take down the mage. “Reinforce?? Felldust!! Who the fuck are they sending?”

“Nymkat says it’s Dressler himself!” Myzlic replies, trying to keep his voice neutral. He knew all too well what it meant, sometimes, to be the bearer of bad news. And Lavross looks furious.

“Look! You tell Regina and Dressler to sit fucking tight. A couple of Urdrake aren’t going to change that damned mage’s fate one notch. His wisp is good as taken!”

“I’ll tell them you received their message!” Myzlic says evenly, then thumps his Driver, motioning for him to slow down. The Dark Psychic drops back, but is treated to a parting barrage of curses coming from Lavross.

Lavross turns away from the cowardly Myzlic. Damned psychic. One of Asmodeus’s supposed all-knowing faithful. Worthless and weak! He should’ve sent him forward with Amagash or Talith. Now he has to suffer Regina’s insistent mewlings. He blows out a frustrated breath from between his jagged teeth. “Fucking Dressler.” Regina’s favorite Overseer is a tall devil with skin so dark red it borders on black. He has a snide, self-assured air that Lavross finds both insulting and effete. Yet Regina had chosen Dressler as her high commander for military situations just like this one. If she’s moving Dressler onto the field, that meant this wouldn’t be his shit-show for very much longer. Lavross looks at the lumbering scorpions in frustration one more time. If he plays a strong hand now, maybe he can keep ahead of Dressler’s meddling and still take credit for taking the mage’s wisp.

He just needed an opportunity.

Then, a ridge-line to his right erupts in bright flashes of light. Lines of white streak out from the Razor Hills and illuminate a region of sky to his front-right. There’s a second flash. The light allows him to zero in on its source. Then he sees them! A row of Urdrake on a hillside about eight miles away. At least five of them are emitting light. He looks for a moment toward Talith. But her Vortexes are well below the beams. He scans the sky. “What in blazes are they aiming at?” He shakes his head. No matter. They’d just given away their position. And none-too-soon with Dressler and Regina breathing down his neck.

“Ranthvar!” he shouts back to his fourth in command.

“Overseer!” Ranthvar shouts as he drives up beside Lavross and gives a sharp salute.

“Take your Lance and stick with the scorpion crews. Make for those hills! There are Urdrake atop that ridge. Put some fire on them now!” Lavross points toward where he glimpsed the Urdrakes’ light beams.

“Yes Overseer!”

Lavross always appreciated Ranthvar’s ease with taking orders. A bit thick. But intelligence is often over-rated. “I’m taking the remaining five Lances! We’re going ahead to charge those hills! If you see any more targets. Don’t hesitate to bring devastation down on them with our scorpions.”

“Very good, Overseer!”

“For the glory of Asmodeus!” Lavross says, giving the customary send off.

“For the victory of Minos!” Ranthvar replies.

Lavross spins off to shout to his other Lances. It takes only a minute for the command to run through the ranks. With a shout of “Forward!” Lavross presses the red and golden button on his Vortex. The worb-engine wails as wisps are ground down — injecting their spirit juice into fiery combustion within the engines. The vehicle leaps forward — shooting out and away from the collection of towering scorpions. The five Lances line up on Lavross, forming a great sweeping V with him at the center. His hand itches to reach for his weapon. His rifle. His Night Axe. “Soon now,” he growls to his axe. “Soon you will taste blood. Soon.”

As he speaks these words of violence-intended, behind him the Scorpions each fling an enormous ball of black and orange into the Hell-night. Casting a dark and fiery light, they rise ponderously toward the hills where he sighted the Urdrakes.

**********

The stupid Vortex is rattling my brain with its banshee wail. I shoot down the slope. On either side of me stretched out in a line are my thirty seven — Mottles, Plumacats, Theri, Zel, Zaya, my Mottle and last of all me. The Plumacats eat up ground in long bounds. The ones teamed up with Mottles can lope as fast as my Vortex so long as I don’t press the evil, spikey red-gold button. They can also frigging fly for short bursts. I’m counting on that mobility to save our bacon. We’re going to run out toward the enemy scouts fast and make ourselves a frigging target. If being a target doesn’t sound bacon-saving, wait around a while, clue? I’ve got tricks. Speaking of targets, I look up at Zaya. The luminous, green-skinned Hell-faerie’s born aloft on translucent wings like those of a giant dragonfly. Illuminated by lux, they become iridescent — casting little rainbows around her. As we reach the valley and start up toward the next ridge, I extend a hand to Zaya.

“I want you to ride with me!” I shout up to her. “Sit here!” I pat a spot on the Vortex’s seat in front of me.

Zaya looks with distaste down at the Vortex. “Must I?”

The Vortex bounces over some rocks, then shoots up the slope. It spits rocks and spews out more of its foul smoke. “Yes! If those devils see you, it might give away my plan! Worse, they could try to snipe you! Then we’d all be screwed!”

Zaya keeps flying near me but makes no move to land. She turns her face forward. I know she’s still listening, though.

“Look! You’re going to like what I’ve got planned! Just hang in there with me for an hour! Maybe less!”

“What’ve you got planned?” Zaya asks, drifting a bit closer.

I grin despite myself. Yeah, she’s hooked. “‘Keep your plans dark and impenetrable as night! And when you move — strike like a thunderbolt!'” I’m quoting Tsu Su here. It’s something Mori — Dad — used to say all the time. He’s fucking right.

“Oh, the secret thunderbolt plan!” Zaya replies. “OK, I’m in.” With one last disgusted look at the Vortex, the Hell Faerie flits down to enfold herself between my arms and behind the Vortex’s handlebars. Mottle quivers pleasantly at the faerie’s arrival. Yeah, Mottle, I like her too.

With Zaya safe, I focus on the slope. The Vortex pounds up toward the second ridge line. Atop it are my scouts. They see us coming, then leap forward, ghosting out ahead of our larger group. I keep the Vortex throttled back a bit to allow all the Plumacats to stay with me. It’s still a pretty stiff pace. I don’t have time to spare.

Before we hit the rise, I see the sky light up with the Urdrake’s frigging white laser beams. There’s a red flying snake with horns on the other end of those beams whose day just got a Hell of a lot worse. I grin wickedly. I shouldn’t be happy. But this is war after all. And that bastard is part of team ‘I’m going to kill you and enslave your effing soul.’ Yeah, count me happy the little bastard’s taking some serious heat right about now. I draw up short of the rise, allow all the Plumacats and Mottles to catch up. I look back to the Urdrakes, pushing my senses to omnis scientia. Through it, I clearly hear his deep, song-like commands. They’ve finished their barrage. Zorfang is moving them down the hill now. Good. They’ll take about two minutes to reach this ridge. Should work out just fine.

Then the night lights up as huge black-orange balls loft toward us from the Wisp Fields. They remind me of giant charred and flaming marshmallows tumbling through the sky. What a weird time to start thinking about smores. They move lazily. They’ll cover the distance to us in about two minutes. I don’t intend for him to be there when they effing land.

I reach out to omnis scientia. “OK, Zorfang, can you hear me?”

“Yes, father, we are moving as you asked. Shoot them move.” His voice is labored, huffing with exertion. Around him, I hear similar noises along with the sound of scrabbling. From what I’m hearing, those Urdrake are seriously halling ass for things so large and typically slow.

“Good. Get the Hell out of there. You’ve got effing meteors heading your way. Did you get the Uktena?”

“It fell from sky. Burned. Probably blind.”

“Perfect! Now, I have another instruction. When you reach the ridge where I am now, I want you to focus all your fire on the group of scouts heading toward us. It’s the small group of about ten devils on Vortexes. By the time you do, we should be engaged with them. Hurry! We’re going to need you!”

“I shall do this!” Zorfang roar-sings.

“Fantastic!” I say, then I shift my senses back to myself and the thirty-six other souls with me. Without another pause, I shout “Forward!” In a great spray of dirt, noxious smoke, flapping of Mottles and scrabble of claws we are shooting up over the rise. I glance at my horologium watch. It’s 4:41 AM, Hell time.

Above me, the giant blazing marshmallows begin to fall toward the ridge Zorfang just vacated. Below, the flat expanse of Wisp Fields opens up, illuminated by deadly lights passing overhead. About a mile and a half off, I can clearly see the ten devils on their Vortexes. They’re coming straight for us. Must’ve seen the Urdrake’s laser beams. They’re following the giant orange balls in toward us. Noise of their screaming engines mixes with my own. Yeah, they’re fucking close and coming in hot.

I turn toward the second, larger group of devils. What I see makes me grin despite the tormented screams of souls being ground up by devils’ engines for fuel tearing out my ever-loving ears. It’s a massive group of about fifty devils riding their Vortexes in my direction at full speed. They’re about seven miles away and running flat out. Must’ve pushed the evil spikey red and golden button. Time to put some heavy fire on these bastards. It’s also time to test the power of all the scores and scores of wisps filling up my energetic vessel.

I point my Vortex toward the scouts and gun the engine. They’re opposite the larger group. If I head toward the scouts, I buy myself a little time. So I race toward them. Plumacats teamed with Mottles fly down the slope beside me. The remaining Plumacats race behind. They lag a bit. But that’s OK. I want a follow-on force. My own scouts are up ahead. I see they found a gully to run and fly through on their way toward the ten devils on Vortexes. If I’m lucky, they’ll come at the bads from the left at about the same time I’m ready to hit them from the front.

My immediate worry is the fact that the goddamn devils have me outgunned. Only Theri, Zel, and I have firearms that can be used with any real skill. Sure, there are two Plumacats with rifles that got about five minutes of training. Enough to give away their positions, but little else. The ten devils rushing toward me are all armed with rifles. I can see them lifting their weapons from saddle holsters on their Vortexes, aiming toward us as our groups converge. These rifles probably have a maximum range of about a quarter mile. Fireball rounds — about the same. Given our closing speed, they’ll be coming into range really damn quick. I don’t want to give them a chance to use those weapons effectively.

I’m lifting my hand when all Hell breaks loose behind me. The giant burning marshmallows are finally landing. WHUP! WHUP! WHUP! WHUP! Four massive explosions tear the air. I don’t see any strike points. I’m blocked by the ridge. But burning material flies high and shrieking rocks rain down hundreds of yards away. I hope Zorfang’s long gone. I can’t afford any delay despite the frigging cataclysm practically coming down on my effing head. “Vexare! Verberare!” I incant, bleeding a crap-ton of energy from my rapidly refilling vessel to increase my missiles’ range. Five bright sparks shoot toward my enemies. As they rocket out, I shout “Una! Lux!” and bleed another excessive plug of energy into my incantation. The missiles swell with brilliant light. Each blazing like a sun, five five huge lights converge on the devil scouts. Range is excessive. Three miss altogether. But two strike a Vortex — causing its spiked tire to unfold like a ripped soda can. Its rider is flung about fifty feet before landing with a thump I can hear a mile off. Lux continues to spill out brilliant light. The devils hold up hands to shield their eyes as they skid to a halt.

They’re shouting in confusion. One is pointing at the larger force of Vortexes closing fast. The others recover as the blinding lights fade. They rev their engines. In a spray of dirt and rocks they rush forward again. More cautious, this time. I’ve bought us about thirty seconds. Pushing my focus back toward omnis scientia, I shout to Zorfang — “How soon ’til you get in place?”

For a moment, I don’t hear anything from Zorfang. Oh fuck! What if the giant marshmallows took him out!? Then, I hear the reassuring rasp of his labored breathing. “Thirty heartbeats!” he shouts through omnis scientia.

“Good!” I pour on speed and hurl another volley of over-juiced and lux-enhanced “Vexare Verberare!” at the scouts. This time, I intentionally aim short, lighting up the land to the riders’ front. One missile strikes a lead devil who’d broken away from the pack — blasting off an arm. He slams into the ground and is swallowed by churning spikes from a following Vortex. The nasty machine grinds the devil into hamburger before it skids to a halt in front of my blinding displays of lux.

“We are here, father!” Zorfang sings to me through omnis scientia. As the lights from my barrages fade, Urdrake lasers begin to rain down on the scouts. We’re still rushing them. By now we are in rifle range. Theri and Zel lift their weapons.

“No fireballs!” I shout.

Zel drops his weapon, exchanges the fireball round he was about to use. Theri shoots with her weapon, misses. Then I see shadows flying up from the crevice to my left. Six Mottles and six Plumacats crash into the devil’s flank. They tear two devils from their Vortexes. I don’t see everything that happens. But I hear the sounds of screaming, of chaotic rifle reports, of bones crunching, of flesh ripping. A Plumacat falls to the side, bleeding from a bullet wound. Its Mottle flaps off to engulf yet another devil. By now, lights from the Urdrake are raining down on the devils. One manages to get off a fireball round. It streaks toward us. I lift my hand. Sparks shoot out of my name curse as I shout — Confractus! The fireball round dissolves in mid-formation. Ten Plumacats and Mottles pounce on the remaining devils — many of which are now blind or surrounded by glows of raging air as they burn.

In a moment, all is silent. We’ve crushed another scout force. This time head-on. But with fifty more devils breathing down my neck, I’ve got zero time to celebrate. Out in the wisp fields, four more massive balls blossom from the scorpions’ tails. Four more burning marshmallows rise up. I reach out to omnis scientia. “Zorfang! Get the Hell out of there! Down the rise this time!”

“Shoot and move!” I hear Zorfang sing out again.

“Good! Stay alive! And when you get to the bottom, I want you to shoot at those scorpions. Try to blind those fuckers. We can’t continue to have this crap raining down on us.”

“Yes Myra!” Zorfang sings out. His voice is strained, his breathing labored. But there is no complaint in his tone. I plow on toward the downed devils. I see some Plumacats actually devouring their frigging corpses. I can’t take time to deal with that now. Besides, Plumacats gotta eat. Pulling up to a cluster of idle Vortexes, I shout “Lunen! Svert Umbra!” My moonshadow blade leaps out. A darkness in my hand. Soft light spreads all around. I turn to Zaya. “Are you ready?” I ask.

Her eyes twinkle. Her iridescent wings flutter. I think she’s guessed what I have planned next. “Oh yes! Very much yes! It’s thunderbolt time!”

(New to the Helkey multiverse? Haven’t yet read the first chapter? You can find it here: Helkey 1 — The Memory Draught.)

(Looking for another chapter? Find it in the Helkey Table of Contents.)

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Helkey 30 — Battle of Sunken Crag, Predators’ Games

Elation pumps through my body. Heartbeat pounds in my ears. All nerves jolt in celebration. I’m still alive! Our rag-tag force lets out another cheer. I take a breath. No time to celebrate, not now. Maybe not ever. This is Hell after all. I let my moonshadow blade flicker out. The sight of all the dead devils, their gore strewn across the canyon floor, makes me reel. The smell of death — extraordinary. It’s the coolest part of the day. Heat pounds down on me like a hammer. I lean to one side. Catch myself on a boulder, pop out Perry fuckin A, take a long drink.

Mottle must sense that I’m swooning from heat and exertion. He shakes himself, flicks off bits of crushed devil, then returns to cover me. The cool is welcome. The blood coating the inside of him sticks to me. I stumble again, look up. Urdrake and Plumacats are casting about. One walks around with long ropes of drool dripping from its jowls. Are they fucking hungry? Do they want to eat the devils? What do Plumacats and Urdrake eat anyway? I stare at them, taking in the Plumacats’ fangs and claws, the Urdrake’s serrated beaks. A Plumacat licks its jowls, glances at me, then actually frigging meows like it wants to eat the devil carcass and is asking me for permission.

This is too much for me to process. I suddenly feel really damn sick. Then I’m barfing the empty contents of my stomach all over the ground. Mostly just bile and water now. Last real food I had was at Starbucks in Berlin. A whole fucking world ago. A yesterday and a half ago. Frail fucking human who’s now surviving on Mottle injections. I wipe my mouth, make myself stand. I can’t afford a moment of weakness. Not now when everyone is fucking counting on me. Not when Zaya’s conjured up a pack of uber-predators for our allies that I now have to somehow appear strong enough to lead. Mom. Dad. All the souls here — in my name curse, in my shadow, I’m guessing maybe a whole Hell of a lot more than just that — they’re counting on me to get this right.

I glance at my horologium watch. It’s 3:47 Hell time. Goddamn dawn’s gonna break in a few hours. That won’t be pretty. I’ve got a full-on fucking war on my hands. I’m gonna be fighting it in the fucking heat pretty damn soon. I’m already fighting in the heat. It’s like a hundred and five out here. Day’s gonna kick that up to like one-thirty plus. I take another breath, let it out. Everyone’s quiet now. The victory elation has settled down. Some are picking through the devils’ equipment, poking at those weird unicycles, or nosing the corpses. Most are staring at me again. Waiting. Some watched on as I barfed. Great!

I wipe my mouth off, pull myself together, then jump up on top of the boulder I’m standing next to. Hell, if Plumacats can do it, why not me? “We just scored another major success. Here, in this canyon, we plant our second victory flag!” I scan them as I talk loudly. I’m basically imitating my Dad’s impression of a drill sergeant from basic fucking training. I never went to basic — I’m just a frigging seventeen-year-old. But I think I got most of it through osmosis from early childhood. My manner seems to be working. I’ve got their attention at least. “So patting ourselves on the back is in order! But we can’t rest for too long! We just made a shit-ton of light and noise! Plus those were likely just a group of scouts! For now, we need to take stock. If there are wounded, I want to know. If any of you know how to help wounded, I want to know.” I point at Featherstar. “You’re in charge of setting up a detail to manage those who’ve been hurt! If there are casualties, I need to know about it fast!” If there are dead, I’m not sure what I’ll do. Featherstar gives me a speculative look, then bounds off.

I turn to Zorfang. He’s one of the Urdrake who shot beams of light out of their fucking heads. “I didn’t know you could…” I think of the right words for a moment. Oh Hell, it doesn’t matter. “…shoot beams of lethal light out of your heads! That’s crazy useful. Will have to keep that in mind for future. For now, I want you to get a group of Urdrakes to collect all the useful gear here. A lot’s broke. Some’s not. Find out what’s not. Collect it and distribute it. Also — put the weird bikes that still work to one side.”

Forces and Major Events in the Wisp Fields and Razor Hills

Zorfang growl-hums his agreement. I nod. He rumbles off, thick tail swishing back and forth. I lift my voice again. “You both have ten minutes! When you’re done report back!” I’m not sure if they know what minutes is. Doesn’t matter. They can tell from my tone that I want them to effing hurry.

“OK Mottle,” I whisper over my shoulder. “While they’re doing that, can you have the team of six Mottles and Plumacats head up to the canyon wall and fan out? I don’t hear any more of those weird devil bikes nearby. But if they’re coming I want to know.” Omnis scientia’s still floating high above the canyon. I can use that too. But more eyes are always better. I take a breath. This next part is a big risk. But it’s gotta be done. “Also, if any devils got away from our engagement, I want our scouts to hunt them down and take them out. Go for stragglers and small follow-on forces. Take down anyone who can run back and rat us out. Tell them to make a circuit of the ridge-line facing the Wisp Fields, get some eyes on both the fields and the scorpion we destroyed, then report back.”

Yes, Mottle thinks back to me simply, then flies off. He goes to the small group of scouts we organized back in the cave, touches a Mottle named Shade. There’s a brief pause as the two share thoughts. Shade’s Plumacat partner — Grimjaw — growls a couple commands. Then our scout squad bounds off. Our company watches them go. A few Plumacats give yowls of encouragement. Everyone seems to know they’re taking a huge risk for us.

With Mottle off my back, the heat hits me again like a hammer. I’m never going to get used to it. It’s way beyond human physiology to deal with this crazy inferno, the stifling sulfur air. My folks said a good chunk of devil magic’s set up just to keep them going through Hell’s nasty environment. Sure, they’re better adapted to it than humans. But adaptation can only do so much. Worbs and the magic they produce became a kind of Faustian bargain for most devils — enslave souls to survive in Hell. It all happened in the deep long ago when Hell’s environment took a nose-dive for the worst. There’s a reason most creatures left alive in Hell are devils. Many blue devils don’t have worbs. They tend not to live long. Maybe to age 35. When you’re dying off that quick, it’s hard to raise children to keep a species going.

Zaya flies up to me, tipping me out of my momentary reverie. Maybe I’m finally starting to get tired after two fights and hours of slogging through Hell’s crazy environment. “You wouldn’t let me fight,” she says with a cross look on her face.

“Yeah. Not this time. But don’t be too upset. There’s a lot of fighting left. So you’d best get ready for some more action.”

Zaya gives me one last frown. “What’s next, then?”

“Next we get ready to take the fight to them. But smart-like.”

“You have a plan?”

“I always have a plan.” I didn’t have shit. Well, not yet at least. I look at my watch. It’s 3:59 Hell time. I spring up, clap my hands together. I’m still standing on my boulder so I can see everyone. “OK! Time’s up! Zorfang! Featherstar! Mottle! Come back here and report!”

My newfangled commanders shuffle back. Theri and Zel return beside them together with a Plumacat and two Urdrakes. They’re carrying armfuls of weapons which they lay down in front of me. I told them to distribute these weapons. Guess I’ll have to tell them who gets what. Another five Urdrakes wheel the giant spikey unicycles toward us. Wow. Looks like five of their nasties still work.

I wait another minute for them to gather, then speak up, again adopting Dad’s drill sergeant tone. I admit, this part of my new ‘job’ would be kinda fun if the subject of it all weren’t so goddamn grim. “OK! First tell me about casualties.”

Featherstar leaps forward with a proud yowl. “Only three wounded. We lick their wounds now.” I think this is just a figure of speech. But when I follow Featherstar’s lashing tail, I see two prone Plumacats and an Urdrake being minstered to by a third Plumacat who’s actually licking them. I’m too much at a loss to say anything. Which is good. Because I stare on for another moment which is enough for me to notice some kind of white film spreading out with each lick of the Plumacat’s tongue. The film covers wounds, creating a natural binding.

Zaya’s still hovering nearby. I turn to her. “Care to explain that?” I point to the film. I’ve got a lot more questions for Zaya about the Urdrakes and Plumacats. But I’ve got like no frigging time — so I stick to essentials.

“Oh. It’s a kind of natural healing salve they produce through glands in their mouth. It stops bleeding, aids the healing process, can even be used to re-attach limbs.”

Re-attach limbs? That’s pretty potent healing. I file this information for later and carry on. “Fanfriggintastic!” The next question is one I dread to ask. “Any dead?”

Featherstar gives a proud if dismissive flick of her tail. “No dead,” she says simply. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. There are probably going to be dead by the end of today. Still not something I want on my conscience. When a creature dies in Hell, its wisp might reform after a time, if it is strong. Otherwise, second death in Hell means annihilation.

“Good! Excellent!” I say to Featherstar, trying to keep some kind of command presence. I’ve gotta project confidence to keep ’em all together and believing they’re going to live and such. Turning to Zorfang, I ask my next question. “So what’ve we got for spoils?”

“Five of these,” he points to the weird unicycles. His words, though still sonorous, are now much more articulate. “Six of those,” he points to a pile of rifles. “Seven of those,” he points to a cluster of handguns. “Eleven close-fighting weapons. Plus this –” he points to the bag of ammo hanging from Zel’s shoulder. I think for a moment. None of them but Zel, Theri and me know a damn thing about firearms. They’re going to need to learn quick. “Zel — you and Theri pick some Plumacats that you think might train up quick with the pistols and rifles.” Looking at the Urdrakes, I’m not sure if their hands will fit the firearms’ grips. I look at the pile of serrated swords and axes. “Distribute the heavier melee weapons to the Urdrakes. Give the lighter ones to the Plumacats.” There’s nothing here for the Mottles. From what I’d seen, the Mottles are badass enough. Hell, they’re all badass enough.

Theri and Zel start moving to distribute the weapons. They each pick a Plumacat, then immediately start giving it a basic instruction on firearms use. I give them a couple minutes to talk. The Plumacats aren’t going to be very effective with those weapons anytime soon. But it’s a start.

“OK. I hate to say it,” I say, raising my voice to address everyone, “but we’re going to need to get a move-on fast. So gather ’round!” I glance at horologium as the Plumacats, Urdrake, and Mottles cluster in the canyon’s center around me. “It’s already 4:06 AM Hell time. About twenty minutes ago we ambushed a squad of scouts.” I don’t know if this is the right technical term. But the devils on the Vortexes were about the size of a squad. “These scouts are almost certainly part of a larger force that’s coming out of Overseer Tower. We don’t know how big it is. But I’m guessing it’s not too large given the fact that we weren’t a fucking army when we hit the scorpion. So as I said before, we’re going to start moving toward Overseer. That’s our ultimate objective. We’ll stick to this canyon for now. But I want another group of six Mottles and Plumacats to form a …” What did Dad call it?? Oh yeah. “To form some pickets. We don’t want anyone surprising us as we move. So fan out about two hundred yards from us and report back if you see or contact any enemy. Got it?” Everyone is silent. “Good! Now let’s be ready to move in ten minutes.”

I plop down from my rock, gather Theri and Zel, then angle over to the wounded. The Plumacat and the Urdrake both have bullet wounds that the ‘medic’ Plumacat, Velestra, has bound up with her magical spit. The bullets were somehow neatly plucked out and are on the ground in a bloody pile. Both are conscious. They crane their heads to look at me as I approach. The other wounded Plumacat is unconscious with a large gash on his forehead. This gash is also bound up by the magical healing spit. I kneel by the two conscious wounded. “Can you move?” I ask them.

“They can. But no hard work.” Velestra speaks for them before they can answer.

I look at Zel and Theri, then point to the weird unicycles. “I know those are devil machines. I can see their worbs, sense the wisps within their jagged traps. But we’re going to need them now. We’ll free those wisps once we win this battle. If we win. Now I want you to figure out how to use them. I want you each to drive one and then to teach these two here how to drive them.” I motion down to the wounded Plumacats.

“What about the last one?” Zaya asks from her hovering position over my shoulder. She looks at the Vortex, various shades of disgust playing on her green face.

“I’m driving that one. I’ll be carrying the unconsious…” I turn to Velestra, “…what is his name?”

“Rookfang,” Velestra replies.

“I’ll be carrying Rookfang. Now let’s get to Hell’s version of driver’s ed. We only have five minutes.”

It takes more like ten minutes to get everyone moving. Jobs are assigned. Scout groups arranged and deployed. Looted weapons distributed. Rudimentary instruction on firearms use given. Everyone looks confused. ‘Clear as mud,’ is what Dad would say. Sounds about right. The bikes are thankfully simple to use — throttle, breaks, and turning all managed with the handlebars. The fat tires are surprisingly easy to balance on. The seats that rest atop them, if not comfortable, are functional. The machines, Theri and Zel call them Vortexes, are large, powerful, and covered in lethal spines. So using them takes caution. Like everything else in Hell, they burn some kind of nasty fossil fuel spiked with worb energy. All worbs are terrible — grinding down and torturing wisps to access their energy. But the Vortexes have a second setting that activates the worb to get more from the wisps. I tell everyone not to use that button unless they absolutely have to.

We finally start rolling out at 4:23 AM Hell time. More than three quarters of an hour after our fight with the scouts. I’m getting real damn anxious about follow-on forces that haven’t arrived. I’m conjuring up things to be paranoid about. I loft omnis scientia, sending it out toward Sunken Crag even as we move north among the hills. The Mottle-Plumacat teams of scouts fan out to our right and in front of us — venturing as close to the Wisp Fields as they dare while still keeping cover. The Vortex roars and spews stinking clouds of pollution beneath me as our main force continues down the canyon. The wisps within it moan in pain. The noise makes me cringe. It reminds me of a banshee wail. I’ve never heard a banshee wail. But this is what I imagine it would sound like. I take a breath. Ignore the horrible stink and sound. I’ve gotta think about next moves. But I really need to figure out where the bads are before I commit.

**********

Corviss plunges toward the ground, barely rights himself, then skips and skids to a stop. His last minute teleport saved his life. Above and to the left, a fireball blooms in the air five hundred feet away. It consumes the space where he flew just moments before. Hissing in terrified frustration, he threads his way back up into the air. Careful to stay low, he flees as fast as he can fly back down toward the wisp fields.

“Amagash you fool!” Corviss spits. But he can’t entirely blame Lavross’s lieutenant. No one expected the mage to have an army backing him. Her! He reminds himself. “Her,” he hisses out loud. He can still see her clearly — dripping an extraordinary excess of magic, sparks flying about her like the fireworks of some victory celebration held by Asmodeus on the battlefield of Avernum, a blade made of pure curse magic held in one hand, a shield like a spectral rosette blooming in front of her. He’d only ever seen two mages. Three now. This one was by far the most potent. The most brazen in her use of magic. He was certain Regina, high in Overseer, would’ve tasted the flood of power, seen the lights and explosions blooming over the Razor Hills. Lavross would’ve noticed as well. But both could only guess what they meant.

“I’m the last survivor. I must let them know.” Corviss didn’t see all his companions die. But he might as well have. The ambush was as sudden as it was fierce. No-one could survive that. The Mottles, Urdrakes, and Plumacats numbered three or four score at least. Other rebels — two blue devils stood with the mage. This was worse than any mere machination of Regina’s regional rival — Lanvfer. This was a rebellion of the old sort. Of the kind that hadn’t happened for hundreds of years. Corviss spits in disgust. There were still only seventy, eighty perhaps. “But how did so many hunted gather together? How did they organize?”

Corvis realizes he’s talking to himself as he flies, swift as his battered body will carry him toward Lavross. He can just make out the large scorpions lumbering across the Wisp Fields. Too slow for his liking. “All is well. I know her whereabouts. Once I report, Lavross will know what to do.”

**********

Out across the Wisp Fields, riding his Vortex, Lavross scratches his chin and frowns at the explosions flowering above the Razor Hills. The fireball rounds are familiar. Those lines of light are energy beams from at least ten Urdrake or he is a fool. It seems he was wise to send Amagash out ahead rather than lead the scout force himself. Looks like Amagash is getting more than he bargained for. This thought draws a chuckle from Lavross as he signals to Talith, his third in command and the remaining Overseer in his Century.

“Take another Lance and head into those hills. If Amagash needs help, back him up. And, get me a fucking report on the enemy’s number and location!”

Talith gives a smart salute, then drives off with her Lance. That’s two Lances deployed, violent contact made, and he still didn’t know squat. He sends out a command, adjusting the movement of his dwindling Century toward the explosions, and glances angrily at the scorpions. If he needs to pour on the speed, he’ll have to leave the beastly machines behind. He had the sinking feeling this night was about to turn into a shit-fest real quick.

***********

Qlul and Landrax are startled from their investigation of the scorpion’s wreckage by a loud series of explosions above the Razor Hills. Qlul’s just picked up a bit of glossy green membrane before he’s distracted by the loud rumble. About four miles off, the thunder of fireball rounds tear through the air. Sharp rifle reports crack. Then lines of light shoot up into the sky. “What the fuck?” Qlul exclaims as another explosion roars out of the hills. “It sounds like Amagash is getting his ass kicked over there,” he says to Landrax.

Landrax isn’t looking at the explosions. Instead he’s staring at the bit of insect-like membrane Qlul is holding in his hand. “Oh fuck,” Landrax says as he stares at the wing.

“What?” Qlul says.

“Well, you know I used to be a Poacher right?”

“Yeah, get to the fucking point.”

“That’s a Vila wing shedding. They’re really damn rare. But I’d bet my horns on it.”

“Vila?” Qlul asks, stunned for a moment more. Then, he looks back to the rent wisp vats on the scorpion. “Fuck? You think?”

“Whoever hit this scorpion, opened up those wisp vats. Maybe they we’re just looting the wisps. Maybe they took them for another reason.”

Qlul’s mind is catching up quick. “If there’s a mage and a Vila they could…”

“… shape a lot of fucking wisps into forbidden forms. Those lights look a lot like something the Urdrake can do. They’re not so rare as Vila these days. Tough buggers. I captured one once. Near blasted my face off with lights like that.”

“Oh fuck! We have to report back to Lavross and quick!” Ignoring the plight of their companions in the Hills, Qlul and Landrax mount their Vortexes and rush swiftly back toward Lavross.

**********

High up in Overseer Tower, Regina Rouge continues to scan the Wisp Fields for her new prize. Unable to rest, she instead revels in the imagined hunt, anticipates the taking of a great mage wisp. Her body lights up with energy. Like some primordial leviathan swimming through ancient waters, she tastes the air for her prey. Every now and then, she detects a tantalizing hint. The air is full of rumor of him.

Then, after hours, her patience is rewarded. A flood of magic rushes up from the Razor Hills. She feels it before she sees it. The outrush heats her face like Hell’s sun. Her sensitive eyes detect the broad arc of powerful curse-magic shining up from the Hills in a rain of sparks. It is a stunning display. For a moment, she’s taken aback at how much power the mage expends in what must be merely one or two magical castings. Then the air above the Razor Hills lights up with explosions and white rays of energy.

“What?” Regina is seldom at a loss for words. But, for a moment, she’s mystified by what she’s watching. “Urdrake?” she says as understanding begins to dawn. “How?”

Regina will puzzle this mystery out in due course. What is clear now, though, is the mage isn’t some cat’s paw in one of Lanvfer’s games. What’s happening on her lands is something else entirely. If multiple Urdrake and a mage are hiding out in her Razor Hills… it means a rebellion of the old kind may be underway. And Asmodeus hates nothing more than vile organizations of old kind on Minos, much less reports of them striking at any of his resources. These are Wisp Fields. One of the most precious land commodities in all the Hells. Regina cracks her Holocaust Scourge at her attendant. “Get me Dressler and a Dark Psychic. We may need to deploy the other Centuries.” Startled by her sudden mood-shift, her attendant skitters away.

************

Grimjaw’s powerful form springs across a deadfall. Above and behind him, the Mottle — Shade — billows out, forming a wing. Together, they fly fifty feet then land on a precipice over-looking the Wisp fields. His streak lands beside him. Five companions for his hunt. Just hours before, he was a frail wisp captured in a scorpion’s vat. It felt like being in the stomach of a great monster as it prepared him for digestion. Its horrible Hell magics stunned him, then began to taint his very being. Terror didn’t even begin to describe what he’d felt. But now the meaother Zaya and the feaother Myra had gifted him with a vicious and powerful body. A Plumacat form possessed of raptor eyes, feather-like fur and armor combined, deadly fangs and claws, sacks of healing salve at the back of his mouth, and a muscular form as powerful as that of a moderate-sized tiger. They’d made him into a hunter of hunters, a predator who preys on the slaver race. They’d partnered him with this majestic Mottle that granted him flight, camouflage, and a vibrational sense of everything around him. He rejoices in his new form, at his helpful allies, at the opportunity to do vengeance on those who sought to enslave him in the worst way imaginable.

It’d taken perhaps two hundred hearbeats for the swift Plumacat and Mottle streak to free themselves of the canyon, to leap over the ridge line, and to peer from this high hilltop down onto the Wisp Fields below. Grimjaw scans the land about. His eyes, keen as any bird of prey, make out minute details. He immediately sees the larger force of devils out among the drifting wisps. They’re in the middle of the fields. Four scorpions, eighty riders. Another ten riders breaking off to head in his direction. Grimjaw shifts his gaze, carefully scanning for any other movement. Then he sees it. Below him and moving in the direction of the larger devil force is the red thread of a flying serpent. An Uktena — as meaother and feaother had called it. Grimjaw growls in frustration. The Uktena is too high up. Too distant to strike. But it is slow-moving and doesn’t seem to notice the smaller force of ten riders. It will take another hour or so to reach the large group of devils.

Map of Recent Events

Shade tenses. Something comes, the Mottle’s words form in Grimjaw’s head even as its senses merge with his. He can now feel a vibration off to his right. He turns his head in time to see two of the spiked, one wheel bikes roar out toward the Wisp Fields’ center. They’re heading out from the ring of debris marking the destroyed scorpion. In about a minute, they’ll pass a hundred yards in front of Grimjaw’s position. He growl-signals to his team. His Mottle touches the others. His intent for them to strike spreads through them as emotion and thought. Careful to use a ridge-line jutting out from the hills to mask their movement, Grimjaw leads his streak closer in. They fly-run-fly down to a low rise about twenty feet above where the Hellish unicycles will pass. Grimjaw tenses, his streak-mates smile in anticipation. The bikes arrive. Grimjaw pounces, Shade unfurls. The combined force of his jump and the Mottle’s flap propels him thirty feet up. At the top of his flight’s arc he extends his claws, locks his eyes on a prey. It is the front biker.

“Qlul!!!” the rear biker bleats in terror is at sees Grimjaw descend. Too late!

Claws catch in the devil’s flesh. The Plumacat’s jaws close over the devil’s head. There is a satisfying crunch. Wet blood floods his mouth. He turns, with flesh in his mouth, to his streak-mates. They have dispatched the other rider. No more screams of warning from that one.

Grimshaw swallows the delicious-tasting devils’ flesh. “Good! It is good!” he growls. For a minute, he and his streak are taken in by the devouring. Shade ultimately shakes him out of the frenzy. “Yes,” he snarls at last. Shaking his fur a second time he snaps at his streak to drag the carcasses and bikes into a depression. He does not have time to revel in his hunt’s success. He must return to Myra. Must report the prey’s position. Satisfied these prey won’t be telling their fellows another word, Grimjaw, Shade and his streak leap-fly back toward the canyon. Grimjaw licks his fangs. The hunting tonight has been excellent.

**********

The nasty Vortex is giving me a fracking headache already. The fucking thing stinks. The wailing worb is a thousand times worse than a crying baby. You know, the kind that sticks burs of pain through your ever-loving ears and all the way into your effing brain. Yeah. Imagine that but ten times worse. It’s not just the sound. It’s the fucking fact that I know I’m torturing those souls just by riding this fucking infernal machine. That’s what it’s like riding a fossil fueled, soul-sucking Vortex. And I’ve only been at it for like five minutes. Feels like a fucking million years. According to horologium, it’s 4:28, Hell time.

The canyon cuts deeper into the hills. The land grows more jagged and threatening. I check on Rookfang. The big guy’s sprawled across the Vortex behind me. Still unconscious. Lucky to be him. I turn to look back up at the green-black puke of the late-night, early-morning Hell sky, stars barely visible, the moon Charon squatting down on the horizon like a frog when I see the silhouette of a Mottle and Plumacat fly overhead. They land with barely a sound beside me. Then five more pairs ghost down. It’s creepy and slick at the same time. Makes me jump just a little. They’re all covered tail-to-nose in blood. For a second I freak out. Then I realize the blood’s not theirs. I throttle down the Vortex and enjoy the blessed ever-loving silence of my ringing ears. Damn things should carry like five hundred warning labels.

Jumping off the Vortex, Mottle and I land lightly beside the scout team. It’s clearly the scouts. I’d recognize Grimjaw’s elongated fangs from a hundred feet off. I look the scouts over for a moment. Yeah. They are covered in gore. It was real bad for whoever or whatever it was they took down. “OK. Tell me what just happened.”

Grimjaw pads forward, dark eyes taking me in. His black feathers remind me a bit of what I learned about velociraptors. Feathered dinosaurs. Although I’m pretty sure velociraptor feathers were colorful and this Plumacat looks like some crazy mash-up between a black tiger and an eagle of some sort. Like seventy percent black tiger thirty percent eagle, but who’s counting. He flops down comfortably next to me and begins washing the gore off with his tongue. Maybe that’s eighty percent tiger?

“We scouted as you requested.”

I ordered it. But who’s splitting hairs. “Report what you saw.”

“There is a large force of about eighty Drivers in the Wisp Fields. They’re about halfway down from Overseer Tower. The Uktena escaped and is flying toward them. It’ll take about an hour to reach the force. There’s a smaller group of scouts out ahead and heading toward us. Perhaps another ten. We also ran into a couple of stragglers from the last group. We pounced them. They were heading back from the scorpion’s wreckage. Seemed to be in a hurry.” He continues to lick himself.

I give him a pat. “Good work. Damn good work.”

The Plumacat gives a rumble that sounds like a purr. “It is a pleasure. I delight in turning predator into prey.” His dark eyes twinkle with relish and something else. Perhaps satisfaction.

Grimjaw’s information is key. His taking out the two scouts probably saved us some time. Maybe the element of surprise too. I’m worried about that Uktena. It saw us. Probably got a decent account of our numbers. I don’t know if it’s figured out how we gained those numbers. I look to Zaya. The Vila’s flying a little bit off to my left. She’s hung back ever since we started using the Vortexes. She’s frowning and has a disgusted look on her face. I totally feel the same way about these disgusting machines. But each of them houses like ten wisps. And that might prove to be crucial to our next effort. They’re too heavy to drag. So we’ve gotta ride them.

Everyone has stopped. They’re staring at me. Waiting for orders. I’m in a kinda crucial moment. It’s go big or go home time. Go home’s not an option. I step back from Grimjaw, turn to my company of the transformed. They cluster around, large, feeling eyes stare down. The Plumacats and Urdrakes are predators. They kinda terrify me. But I remind myself that they’re a part of Hell’s order. Maybe they’re even a last-ditch reaction by nature here to throw off the destructive, world-wasting devils. The Mottles are a comfort. Though they too possess the capacity for great violence. It’s how you survive in this broken world. The way of the sword, the tooth, the claw. And now is the time to walk that path or be destroyed.

“Grimjaw and his scouts just discovered the enemy’s position. There’s about ninety bads down there in the Wisp Fields. Ten more scouts are headed toward us. The larger group’s also out there. But they’re moving slower on account of the four scorpions they’re bringing with them. They only outnumber us slightly now. But they still have a major advantage in organization and hitting power.” I’m kinda impressed with myself. Dad really beat tactics into my head with all the war gaming as a kid. Plus, you know, D&D can actually teach you up on tactics pretty quick if you’ve got a good game master. Dad was the best — always throwing me into the shit. Since like age seven or so. “We can’t let them survive this night. Overseer has much greater numbers to command. If they find us here, they’ll use that force as a base, then send out more fast-moving reinforcements to hem us in, pin us down, and annihilate us. So now is the time for us to strike a blow and take down those devils!”

The Plumacats yowl in support of my suggestion. The Urdrakes, inspired, raise their voices in a growling song. Even the usually chill Mottles seem taken in by the predators’ bloodlust.

“So we are going over that rise. We are heading out into the Wisp Fields. And we are going to take down those devils. Are you ready!?”

Their uplifted roar of response is deafening.

(New to the Helkey multiverse? Haven’t yet read the first chapter? You can find it here: Helkey 1 — The Memory Draught.)

(Looking for another chapter? Find it in the Helkey Table of Contents.)

(Enjoying the story? Want to help support the continuance of this tale? Please like, share and subscribe.)

Icewind Dale — Livestream Dungeons and Dragons Campaign Play, Character Profiles, Original Art, and Video Archive

Below is an archive of live-streaming games from the Icewind Dale campaign GM’d by Ted Burgess and originally streamed on Twitch. It’s also an introduction to the Heroes of Icewind Dale — Alinar, Gaelya, Immeral, Roderick, Reugar, and Veris.

This game is a 5e fan-conversion of the 2e Dungeons and Dragons classic — Icewind Dale. Now managed by Beamdog, Icewind Dale is available for ePRG play on Steam. If you’re a lover of classic-style D&D, we recommend you check out the video game Ted’s epic campaign draws inspiration from.

Icewind Dale campaign art by Lady Blue Wolf

Ted has a long-running love affair with Icewind Dale as an eRPG and as a Dungeons and Dragons adventure setting. His game takes a deep dive into the old-school Icewind Dale setting and series of adventures — expanding on its original gritty flavor and deadly style of adventuring. Icewind Dale live-streams on Twitch about every three weeks Saturday Nights starting at 9 PM EST. As the player of Gaelya, I’ll be streaming these games so that viewers can have an RPer’s perspective. Archived games will post on YouTube and are featured below.

Adventure Story

Our heroes came, by various means, to the frigid town of Easthaven where they were quickly conscripted by a local warlord named Hrothgar to undertake various quests. After dealing with troubles near Easthaven, the adventurers set out to confront a band of orc raiders hiding in a nearby cave. The party (only level 2 at the time) entered the cave to face a deadly fight as thirty five orcs, five wolves and an ogre swarmed to attack. After a vicious but heroic battle that left only two orcs alive, the party was defeated and killed (yep, a TPK!). This defeat would’ve been the end for our poor heroes had Hrothgar not sent a follow-on group from Easthaven to bring back our corpses and slay the remaining two orcs. Inspired by our heroism, Hrothgar decided to splurge and have the party returned to life.

Icewind Dale campaign art by Lady Blue Wolf.

After resurrection (generous or unfortunate is up for debate), the party was hired as caravan guards on the road to Kuldahar. An avalanche then wiped out the caravan leaving our party as its only survivors (yep, we’re cursed). After ridding the mountain pass and its settlements of goblin attackers in a glorious series of murder-hobo-type skirmishes, the adventurers journeyed to Kuldahar. There they learned of an evil occupying a nearby valley called The Vale of Shadows. They journeyed to the Vale to confront fearsome Yeti and hordes of terrible undead. Within the Vale is Kresslak’s Tomb. Our video archive picks up as the party explores this tomb and faces off against its swarms of evil undead.

Character Profiles

What follows are the character profiles for Alinar, Gaelya, Immeral, Roderick, Ruegar, and Veris. Presently these heroes (we use the term liberally) are all level five. The party is a bit further along than the video archive would indicate — as before starting our livestream, we completed about 8 campaign sessions. For your continuity, I’ve provided a brief synopsis of the campaign’s events above. It’s also worth noting that this group developed a strong sense of PC camaraderie as most of the present party members played through Ted’s Lords of Darkwell campaign prior to Icewind Dale over the course of about five years.

Alinar Caskshaper is an Elf Paladin of the Ancients. Played by J.D., Alinar is well known for running pretty much straight at the enemy with his dwarven maul ‘Punt’ swinging. One of the main front-liners for the party, Alinar has turned many a skeleton to tiny bone fragments with his mighty swings of Punt. Facing other foes, he switches out to the renowned Blade of Aihonen — a magical sword and a family heirloom.

Alinar’s Token

Backstory — Goldrid, Alinar’s foster father and a dwarf, always told Al that Larrel and Delsanra retired from adventuring when Alinar was born. He’d wax on about Alinar’s great lineage — suggesting Alinar was destined to become a famed adventurer like Delsanra, her mother Chalia of the Aerie, and her father Aihonen before her. Goldrid never mentioned just how his parents died, though. All Goldrid would say about them was — “Ah, lad, they were the best. One day, you may be half the hero yer da was and about a quarter the hero yer ma was. That’d make you three times the hero anyone in Icewind Dale has e’er seen!”

Aihonen, it turns out, married a sea elf named Elisia. Apparently, there has also been some business regarding dragons. Though the details are still somewhat unclear.

All this talk of adventuring seemed pretty dangerous to Alinar. Goldrid’s silence over his missing parents didn’t help. Alinar had other, more appealing and less lethal, ideas about life and livelihood. Pushing a boat around Maer Dualdon seemed like a better notion than risking one’s life as an adventurer. The closest Al got to adventuring before the present business was leading wealthy hunters out on expeditions to Kelvin’s Cairn. Of course, ever since becoming involved with that damned Hrothgar in Easthaven, Alinar’s been making good ol’ Goldrid proud.

Gaelya the Ghost is an Elf Bladesinger Wizard. Played by yours truly, Gaelya is a cheese-obsessive who provides much of the party’s explosive magical support. The recent acquisition of Fireball has kicked Gaelya’s blasts up a notch (yes, flaming cheese blob can substitute for bat guano as a material component). A Bladesinger who’s run a lot like the old-school fighter-mage, Gaelya’s also not afraid to mix it up in melee combat with the front liners. Though she’s small and physically fragile, her magical defenses are quite formidable (over-consumption of cheese can result in delusions of invulnerability). Her magically-enabled toughness is aided by her Belt of Beatification and Wand of Armory. In melee, she either wields her magical rapier or casts a spell to summon a Shadow Blade.

Gaelya’s Token

Backstory — “Blasted magistrate’s house to the ground with primeval thunder because he exiled me sister. Got exiled meself real quick. Was forced onto ship sent from Evermeet. Big swan-like thing. It was beauteous and pretentious-like. Came to Waterdeep. Fell in love with cheese. Quickly ate self into a bellyache full of debt. Worked as cheese guard and got paid next to nothing. Never could afford cheese again. Now I’m a beggar — errrr — adventurer! Why is it so cold here? Icewind… Ya think that has somethin to do with it?”

Immeral Galanodel is an Elven Long Death Monk. Played by Mike, Immeral is a mobile front liner with surprising resilience. Assaulting the enemy with devastating flurries of blows, Immeral draws life energy from defeated foes to further buffer him from harm. Equipped with Glimglam’s Cloak, a magical longsword, magical bow, growing stocks of fire arrows, Bracers of Defense and a Robe of Cold Resistance, Immeral posesses a diverse array of offensive and defensive enablement beyond what even his considerable skills and ki provide.

Immeral Galanodel’s Token

Backstory — pending…

Reugar is a Goliath Rune Knight Fighter. Played by Wade, Reugar redefines the concept of rushing toward the enemy. A main front liner like Alinar, Reugar manages to draw a lot of aggro in combat while laying waste to his foes. Reugar’s penchant for attracting enemy fire is due to his huge presence and tendency to get in the enemy’s face. His ability to channel the might of his giant ancestors by triggering runes that increase his size to that of the frigging hulk fills out his role as an enemy magnet even further. Reugar possesses the Black Wolf Talisman, The Ring of the Warrior, and a magical warhammer.

Reugar’s Token

Backstory — pending…

Roderick Visport is a Human Trickery Domain Cleric/Rogue. Played by Lauren, Roderick puts a pretty face on a party of misfits, scoundrels and ruffians. Not to say that Roderick isn’t without his own rough edges. It’s just that he’s too much of a pretty boy for one to suspect much drama, at first. Or perhaps it’s just Tymora smiling on one of her main devotees. In combat, Roderick exploits openings for his deadly sneak attacks, uses healing to help his allies, and lays waste to his foes with powerful divine magic. Roderick is armed with a Static Dagger, a magic sling, and wears The Ring of Shadows. Lauren, Roderick’s player, is armed with a magical paint brush.

Roderick’s Token

Backstory — pending…

Veris Bremein is a Custom Lineage Circle of the Shepherd Druid. Played by Dave, Veris packs a potent combination of summoning, shapechanging, attack, and healing magic. Veris can be counted on to lay down powerful heals while summoning a variety of creatures. In addition, his Circle of the Shepherd feature allows him call forth a Hawk, Bear, or Unicorn Spirit to aid himself and his allies. Veris often becomes the turning point on which a battle pivots — ensuring his allies stay standing, calling potent reinforments, or shifting into his ape form and throwing himself into the fray. Veris is equipped with a Wand of Magic Missiles capable of expelling a devastating barrage of magical projectiles, stunning Hammer Darts, a magic sling and a magic scimitar.

Veris’s Token

Backstory — pending…

Campaign Art by Lady Blue Wolf

Our Icewind Dale campaign is blessed with the most beauteous artwork of Roderick’s player — Lauren. As each campaign episode progresses, Lauren creates her own storyboard of key events — vividly portraying our various follies and victories in colorful and humorous form. Examples are sprinkled throughout this campaign archive. I’ll be posting more of these amazing, fun, and colorful bits of campaign art to each episode log’s cover page.

You can find more of Lauren’s fantastic artwork here.

Episodes

Episode 8 — Narrowed down to only four members, the party continues to delve into the dangerous tomb.

Episode 9 — Alinar and Reugar reinforce the beleaguered party in an epic battle against hordes of undead.

Episode 10 — Alinar and Gaelya suffer second death as the party confronts hordes of skeletons, specters, phantoms and a skeletal mage.

Episode 11 — After death (again), the party returns to The Vale of Shadows to hunt down a priestess of Auril.

Episode 12 — The party ventures to The Temple of the Forgotten God in search of the fabled Heart Stone.

Last Notes

For now, we conclude our gaming archive and related character profiles for Icewind Dale. Return for updates and new video archives occurring about 1-2 times a month. Also, I’ll be updating our character profiles when the situation warrants.

Thank you for joining us!

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