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D&D 3.5 One on One: Rise of Buried Secrets Game

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XavierZeherisHarper

XavierZeherisHarper

Supernova
Joined
Oct 17, 2012
Location
USA
Fendor Campaign, Starting Level 15, Gestalt engaged.
Rise of Buried Secrets

Illiaca is a small, out of the way town, in a valley with a dormant volcano to the south. The only easy way in or out is at the northern side of the valley. Sheer cliffs protect the sides, 300 feet high at their lowest, while the dormant volcano is both higher, and covered in sharp pillars of rock that seem to stab the sky. The main attraction to this town is a settled mage, and her school of magic. Magic being the rare talent it is, those that know her quietly spread the school's location to those who have the aptitude. So, with the aid acquaintances and friends, she's been kept quietly busy the past few years. Unfortunately, an old rival and enemy has set their sights on her, and has begun a plot that may end up destroying all that she has gained, in the name of both jealousy and vengeance.
 
The bright rays of the morning sun shining in through the man high arched windows danced over Aralu’s delicate face, teasing and caressing her until her eyelids finally, slowly fluttered open, ending her night’s rest with the return to wakefulness.

A few more moments she lay still, basking in the warmth, before her bare limbs finally stirred under the white silken sheets. Eventually she rose, shedding those same sheets from her naked form as she stood next to the large double bed dominating the center of the circular room. Practiced hands grabbed the deep red silken robe, lithe arms slipped inside and nimble fingers tied the cloth belt around her slim waist while she approached one of the window doors, opened it and stepped outside onto the small balcony.

Wicket pundits might claim that the affinity to reside in high towers was an unavoidable trait that came with the gift for the arcane. Aralu did not care, the view over the Illiacan valley that greeted her every morning was just too breathtaking.

She had founded her little academy in the small vacated and at the time run down castle that overlooked Illiaca from the hill to the north, guarding the entry to the valley, and it had come as a natural choice to erect her quarters in the top levels of the keep tower, slightly modified at allow for a more comfortable residence.

In the beginning it had seemed quite the risky undertaking, those years ago when she arrived, her entourage only consisting of Gerrul the hunch backed half orc who still served her to this day. A large chunk of her previous earnings had gone into this endeavor. The spot had been ideal, a small out of the way community that would allow her to settle down. Initially the dignitaries of the town had been quite suspicious about their new neighbor, but over time the mistrust had morphed into gratefulness for the subtle ways a small group of mages could aid the growth and flourishing of the community, consisting mostly of farmers and craftsmen. Nowadays the academy was funded completely by Illiaca, and she even had a seat on the city council. Head Magister Aralu Griesen, she liked the sound of that title.

The castle provided ample room for the dozen students she had, the servants, and even the small squad of city guards also stationed here. By now they even had a well equipped and constantly growing library.

Lectures would not start for another hour, and so Aralu was in no hurry. Her feet slipped into a pair of sandals, and she began to descend the spiral staircase towards the dining hall for breakfast. Now a wizard of her station and skill surely had more spectacular ways of bridging the multiple stories of the stair case, but she enjoyed to exercise some restraint in the application of her magic and the early morning walk usually did her some good.
 
It had been years since he'd last seen her, and he wondered how she had been. He had never truly settled down, and it was obvious that he still adventured, still dove into old ruins, and mysterious citadels, partly to find history, and partly to satisfy the urge for the meaningful, the epic. Unfortunately, he did not come to Illiaca just to talk, to catch up and to reminisce. An old enemy of theirs was starting a hunt to kill them, and he'd come to warn her. Stephen had already been killed, and he had been ambushed, their enemy underestimating him and overestimating the assassins. Aralu deserved better than to be gutted in front her home. Irvine Aelfdane planned on making sure it didn't happen to his comrade. He was 55, with a worn and scarred face that spoke of many battles. His silver hair was worn in a loose ponytail to mid back, and he was homely. Not the best looker, but not the worst. He rode into the valley that day intending to warn Aralu, and now that he had arrived in town, he began looking for her.
 
Eventually Aralu entered the dining hall. Those already present seem so used to see the mistress of the house wrapped in nothing but a flimsy robe that she does not draw any special attention – beyond the sort of attention a gorgeous woman always is bound to draw once she steps into a room that is not entirely vacated.

As she heads over to the large comfortably padded seat at the head of the table, carved of dark wood with a high backrest, her eyes habitually survey who else is present. Somewhere along the table there sits Elrune, the young elf girl with the uncanny knack for animals and an inkling for druidic magic. Aralu knew not how much longer she would be able to teach her something meaningful, already the young one was starting to explore her gift on her own. Opposite her sat Olaf, at 22 years one of the elder students and a talented diviner. His slightly expanded short frame had not helped him to overcome his genuinely shy nature, and even now he only dared to shoot her a brief glance before focusing entirely on the platter before him once more. She would have to help him one of these days, before he would resort to scrying on her while she was bathing.

“Good Morning Everyone” her melodious voice resonated throughout the hall as her buttocks descended on the seat. Already Edna, the aged haggard maid and wife of the cook Edward, came scurrying out of the kitchen door, carrying the plate with her breakfast. Milk, fresh bread, some butter and cheese, and some fruit. “Good Morning, mistress” she replied as she set the dish onto the heavy wooden table right in front of Aralu before returning to the kitchen.

She had not eaten for more than five minutes when suddenly one of the doors flung open, and a brown haired boy of maybe ten years rushed in. “Mistress Aralu …” he blurted out, finally coming to a halt no more than two yards away from her, wringing his hands embarrassedly in the presence of the prestigious woman. “My father sent me. He says there is a stranger in town, and he is asking all sorts of questions about you and where he can find you …”

“Oh …” Aralu thought for a moment, before she smiled back at the boy “… tell me more. What do you know about that strange man?”
 
"Well, he was tall, taller than anyone else here. And he was wearing some kind of silvery armor, while this massive purple blade hung on his back. His face... it was scarred repeatedly. He wore a amulet around his neck, and there was something about it that give my dad the chills. So I'm guessing it was magic. He's got silver hair in a ponytail, and looks old. The man was asking about you, like what you have been doing here, how you've coped with the 'quiet life', and some other things, Lady." The boy replied. "Oh, and he said his name was Irvine Aelfdane."

Irvine was currently in the local tavern, the Brass Unicorn. It was nice enough, but the locals seemed to view him with slight suspicion and concern. He didn't care too much though. He'd dealt with worse. He was unknowing that they were afraid he was some soldier or mercenary scouting the town out, thinking about settling here. He was unaware that most visitors were either folk wanting to get away from wars, or hopeful to become Aralu's student. He fit neither category, and so worried them. They also hadn't been forthcoming on Aralu's whereabouts, or where her magic school was at. He knew she'd set one up and where, but they hadn't exchanged letters a several weeks. First he'd had that excavation to explore and 'sanitize', then he'd been dealing with assassins.
 
At the mention of the name Aralu's eyebrows shot up and her smile widened. "Irvine Aelfdane you say ..." to which the boy eagerly nodded. The description also fitted her memory of the old warrior to the point. "Elrune, Olaf" she called out to her students as she rose from her seat "tell the others that I might be a bit late for class today. Until I come have them practice the low temperature exercise from yesterday. And you, young man" now her attention was back on the messenger "please wait a moment for me. I will be right back, and then I need someone to lead me to that mysterious Mr. Aelfdane." With that she began to rush out of the room.

~*~​

"Irvine Aelfdane, have you missed me that much?" The melodious voice livened up the near empty taproom. At this time of the day most citizens of Illiaca were busy in their workshops or on the fields, making the exotic stranger stand out even more at the lonely table he sat at.

The voice came from the doorway where Aralu stood and gave him a welcoming smile. She had dressed now, wearing a deep red garment, the same color as her robe. The rich color a well matching contrast to her eerie skin and hair. It tightly hugged her curves but otherwise was of a modest cut compared to what Irvine had seen her wear in their previous adventures. It was short sleeved, the cleavage only moderate, and except for a slit along her right leg it went down beneath her knees.

And with that she slowly came closer, her hips sensually swaying with every step. He had been a trusted comrade in arms for many years, and she was glad to see him again. Finally coming to a halt across the table from him, her hands lightly resting on the chairs backrest, she continued "So tell, what brings you to Illiaca?"
 
Irvine turned his head at the sound of her voice. It had been over a year since he'd heard it, but he wouldn't mistake that melody anywhere. Not after it chanted a song that blasted clear a path for them in the depths of the Raven's Spire. Taking her beauty in, he returned her smile with a slight lopsided one of his own. "It has been quite awhile, and I try to keep in touch with everyone, despite the businesses I'm in." Treasure hunting and monster fighting were his businesses, but left unsaid and understood. "So, I don't think a yearly visit is too much of bother on you all, even if I'm just a 'short-lived creature of change'." Tokoli had once called him and every human that, the one time she had gotten drunk. It had been after they'd explored the Wyvern's Aerie, when the priestess of Moradin had been nearly pushed off the cliff onto the sharp rocks below. The dwarf had drunk so much even her tolerance stood no chance, in an attempt to forget that height. "As for why I'm here, let's stick with the friendly visit part. I'll get to the bad news later. How have you been?"
 
“Oh, I have been fine.” Aralu’s eyes had gone up at the mention of bad news. Usually she preferred to get such out of the way as soon as possible, but she would honor Irvine’s request. Pulling the chair backwards she gracefully slid around it and down, placing herself right opposite her former comrade.

“Look around” she spread her arms in an inviting gesture “this is really what I have wanted to be doing. The town is flourishing, and I feel like I am contributing to it. Creating something worth being created. This feels much more … fulfilling that endless hopping from one dungeon or tomb to another …”

“Plus …” she casually leaned back in her char, hands folded in her lap now, and she once again smiled “… I get to sleep in a comfortable bed every night.” She had always been a creature of comfort, her complaints after yet another night spent in a sleeping bag on the rocky floor of a forlorn cavern the source of the group’s amusement more than once.
 
"Suppose that would be a plus." He said, a slight smirk on his face in remembrance. "It would be better on your 'soft, delicate skin, dearie'." He said, quoting Stephen. A minuscule flinch at the unconscious reminder he'd just brought up. "As for endless tomb-hopping... It's not so bad, even if the company isn't what it was. Can't tell you the number of nobles out for an 'adventure' I've had to save when they realize that yes, there is a reason the place has been left alone, and yes, you should listen when I say don't touch it." Irvine shakes his head in annoyance. "Some of them are far worse than Ninnia ever was." He'd thought the elven bard had been bad, sticking her hand and head wherever she could put them in search of knowledge. But she'd at least never been outright stupid. "Some of them... Ah, forget it. I didn't come to complain. It looks like you're doing well. Guess that magic school idea of yours worked out after all. Last I heard, about seven months ago, Ninnia was in some king's court, playing court minstrel. She probably has moved though. As for Tokoli, she was doing well with her temple in her homeland, at least eleven months before that. I don't suppose you've heard of them recently?" To most, the last question would have seemed normal, just an old friend asking about other old friends. But there was on edge to it, quiet enough that Aralu would barely catch it, of fear and worry.
 
"Ahh Ninnia ..." The name brought back very fond memories of her favorite companion. Her curiosity had not been limited to lore and a good tale, but also extended to men in all their variety, her hunger almost insatiable. If anything she had been even more promiscuous than Aralu, and the two had formed quite the team. Two drop dead gorgeous women on the prowl, light Aralu and tanned black haired Ninnia. Countless had been the times they had teamed up to find two or more men for some intimate play, or helped themselves to orgies of varying size.

"Well, whether she still is at that court could depend on a variety of factors" like average penis size of the occupants, though a king's palace should provide enough opportunity to keep even her busy for a while.

"But no, sadly I haven't heard from any of them in a while. I've been quite busy here the last years, so much so that the needs of the present have overshadowed the memories of the past. But now that you mention it, maybe I should indeed take a few days off and pay them a visit." Ninnia in particular. "It's not fair to let them drift into obscurity like that, after what we went through together." And the mention of that court had woken other memories as well...
 
Irvine nods his head. "Yeah, we did wander apart, after Hazahn." Hazahn... It had been their last adventure together. A city that had vanished off the map over a century ago in a massive war, and they had found it. Along with what had caused it to vanish. An earthquake had sunken it, caused by a duergar mage who had enslaved the entire city. It had not been a pleasant experience, going through that wretched place, and the people who had been slaves for generations. The battle with the duergar and his personal guard had not been pleasant either, as the scar on his left cheek reminded him. "But I've tried to keep some kind of contact with everyone. Letters, mostly. Ninnia had this magic message thing for a little bit, but that faded after awhile. I haven't..." Here Irvine sighs. "I think I'll have to start covering the bad news. I haven't received a letter from the other women for over a month. I was in easy contact with Stephen. Until he died."
 
“Died?”

Aralu’s face froze. Memories surfaced violently of the human soldier turned mercenary, almost always wrapped in some kind of heavy metal armoring. And while he had lost his employ due to his baron ending up on the losing side of a war, he never got that disciplined lifestyle out of his system. Neither did he seem to want to. She also remembered their first meeting, how protective he had been of her – until she had let loose against that band of bandits. Fond memories indeed. And now he was no more …

In his vocation – all of their vocation, until most recently – death was a constant companion, but …

“The way you say that sounds as if something with Stephen’s death is … not quite right.”
 
"Considering he was found dead, with his guts wrapped around his neck in a very familiar knot, then yes. Not quite right fits it." Irvine was not sure what to think. It had been years since he'd last seen that knot. Ever since they'd caught the serial killer that had almost killed Aralu. They'd been hunting for the serial killer in the city of Corsag for over a month when Aralu had stumbled upon the killer's latest attempt. The rest of the group managed to catch up with Aralu shortly, and had then attacked killer. After blasting the killer into a building that then collapsed on the killer, they waited for the city guards to show. After describing everything that had happen, Aralu had handed the necklace she'd managed to tear off the killer before the fight got serious. The guard had politely asked them to leave, before they caused more collateral damage. Irvine wasn't sure how Stephen had died, but his body was left the same way every victim of the serial killer's had been. With their guts tied around their necks in a (Windsor necktie style) knot. "I don't know if somehow that killer survived, or if Stephen's killer just knew (s/he), but it was the same knot, Aralu. Stephen was left on his own front porch with that damn knot around his neck."

(If you don't mind, I'm leaving the exact identity, not abilities, up to you. But s/he was a mage then.)
 
“Lord Fredwig of Darnholm. The Gut Wrapper. …” Aralu’s voice trailed off as she remembered their first encounter. It was the day she had learned to truly love the Contingency spell.

At first he had seemed like the usual horny, somewhat elderly noble miscreant trying to show off with the young girls, to get them into bed and hump them to his heart’s content. Exactly the type of old horndog she liked to get ploughed and used by once in a while to satisfy her more wicked desires. He had researched her weakness well. Lured her into his palace without a single witness, got her naked and ready for action … and then paralyzed her. Catching her completely off guard. That was the moment she had learned he was a mage. He did prefer to do the actual coupe de grace with his bare hands, though, and maybe that saved her. Since as his fingers closed around her neck and life began to drain out of her that most welcome force bubble materialized around her and pushed him away, leaving only the torn necklace in her grip. Still ringing for breath, and at that time unsure about his further abilities, she had used the short break given to her for a quick exit via Dimension Door. The peasants in the street were somewhat surprised at the naked woman appearing between them, but at that moment she did not care. Instead she returned with reinforcements …

Her focus returning to the present she shook her head. “This does not sound good. I just don’t believe it is a coincidence. Which means…” Hadn’t Irvine mentioned he had not heard from the others for tooo long?
 
"That someone with a connection to him, perhaps the man himself, is after us in vengeance. And whoever it is knows at least a little about our abilities, Aralu. I've had to fight off two sets of assassins, both having detailed instructions on what to do with my corpse, and they knew about my powers." Irvine replied. "I'm just fortunate that Psionics are poorly understood, and that they didn't know all of my powers. That they try to make up for it with numbers instead of skill helps."
 
Aralu's thoughts were racing already, processing the additional input Irvine provided. Her facial expression reflected it as well, pure focus by now.

"They already got Stephen, and they tried to get you. I think it's safe to assume the other three of us are also in danger. If they are still alive. Judging by what you told me so far you have not yet been able to warn Ninnia or Tokoli?"
 
Irvine shakes his head, worry and concern clear on his face. "I've sent letters, but I haven't had replies for over awhile. Ninnia might have moved on and just missed it, or something similar. Tokoli is the one that worries me. I should have gotten a reply by now. Either she's busy with some sealed Dwarven protocol, the letter or it's reply was intercepted, or..." Left unsaid was his fear that Tokoli was dead. Ninnia could be as well, but there were lots of reasons why Ninnia might not have replied. "I came here first, since your said location was the closest. The fact that it's out of the way, and rather hidden from the outside world meant I had high hopes you were well. It is nice to see you as alive and beautiful as always. I just wish it was under better circumstances." A look of annoyed frustration crosses his face. "Also, I'm afraid I may have brought trouble with me. I don't believe there were any trackers after me, but I have no divination ability, so I can't promise that. Plus, any such spells following or looking for me, may have leads to here as well. I'm afraid I may have brought trouble to your doorstep, Aralu. Sorry." Irvine said, a look of contrition on his face.
 
"Don't beat yourself up over it" Aralu straightened herself up as she continued to speak. "At least I am warned now, which robs whoever might find me of the element of surprise. And I now have a reinforcement at my side. Just like in the old days." With that she even manages to smile.

"But we better get moving soon. Letters are a tad slow for the problem at hand. It seems that awfully boring week Tokoli more or less forced us to spend in her home city on 'vacation' brings some good after all. Since it means I know the place. ..." And now the smile turned into a knowing grin. "As a side benefit whoever might have been following us won't come here."
 
"I'll assume you mean to teleport us then?" Irvine asks, remembering that week. The drinks and late night parties had been good, but the dwarves seemed to be real stuffy there most of the time. It had made him curious, since they hadn't seemed that way individually and outside of that city. Tradition, was his best guess. The dwarves had been very big on tradition. "And how would they not find out about here?" Irvine asks, curious. Maybe she had some strong magical protections around this place. He had no idea though.
 
"Teleportation was the plan, yes." Aralu nods. "The quickest way to find out what happened that I can think of at the moment. And if we are lucky and Tokoli still lives we can bring her with us, at least until this assassin issue is dealt with. There IS strength in numbers." As their time together had shown. Aralu has to smile and the fonder memories.

"Oh, they might find this place, not much to prevent that if they have some link to scry on you. Only if we are no longer here, why should they come here?"
 
"Good point." Irvine nods. "So, do we leave immediately, or do you have some business to take care of here, before we leave?" He asks.
 
"No time like the present... Fortunately I have some teleportation spells currently prepared, for trips to the city... " Aralu replies immediately, not detailing further which escapades lead her from her home and to the larger and more lively settlements further south.

Already her palms are planted on the table surface while she starts to push herself to her feet. "Also, if I understood you correctly time might be of the essence." Turning to the barkeep, she adds "Ogreg, can you please send a messenger to the academy and inform them that I had to leave on urgent business on very short notice? The time of my return is as of yet ... uncertain."
 
Ogreg nods. "Very well, Head Magister. I'll send Santos immediately." He leaves the room a moment to speak with Santos. Irvine stands up, a wry grin on his face. "Let's see what Tokoli has been up to, shall we?" He says, hope and sorry in his voice. "I wonder how the dwarves will react when we show up at their front gates." It had been a mood that Stephen took every now and then, wanting to play a joke on the stuffy and hidebound. The dwarves had been that way the whole week, and Stephen had constantly talked to the other party members about playing jokes on the dwarves, including Tokoli, after the third day. One of those jokes had involved randomly showing up on the dwarves 'doorstep', usually with some kind of festive fanfare. The idea of fulfilling Stephen's prankster mood after Stephen's death left Irvine slightly melancholy, but also amusement, since Stephen would approve. Stephen had been a soldier, but he had liked to cut loose every now and then. He'd also been stealthier than anyone in metal armor had a right to be.
 
"Front gates is not as good" Aralu replies with a mischievous grin "the better I know a place the easier it is to port there. Good targets would either be the center of that big market cave, with that overly pompous fountain ..."

Indeed, it had been more of a monument than a fountain, five stories of stern and somber looking statuesque depictions of the greatest dwarf heroes of the last centuries, almost reaching the ceiling of that cave, with water flowing out between them. The dwarves just were not creative or loose enough to let that water appear out of more funny locations, like various bodily orifices. Stephen once had changed that with a stone shape scroll, and their hosts were not amused to have one of their heroic statues publicly urinate in one great arc.

"... or the quarters where we stayed." That one was less spectacular, just a series of small caves connected by a tunnel that forced every non dwarf to bow, the subterranean equivalent of an inn. "My pick would be the fountain."

Pausing for a moment, Aralu finally starts to resolutely stride across the room, gesturing Irvine to follow her. "We better use the back room to depart, it should be vacated at this time of day. Oh, and I hope you have some coin with you in case we need it, else I will have to go fetch my purse first."
 
"No need for your purse then. I have coin to spare." Irvine said, a slight wistful grin on his face in remembrance of that and other pranks Stephen had done. "To the back room then. The sooner we see Tokoli's stern face, the better." For it would mean that she was alive. Wait... "Just curious... but you wouldn't happen to still have that necklace you ripped off the Gut Wrapper, would you?" Irvine asked.
 
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