In the aftermath of the war for Caldraza, a mysterious messenger brings news that the drow threat has by no means been wiped out and a retaliatory strike could come at any time. Meanwhile, powerful friends await the call to arms in the city of Crom Calamar, the unconquered capital of Jehannum, Nation of Warriors. But when Crom Calamar’s battlements fall and her streets are plunged into darkness, the whole of Ashfar is thrown into turmoil and the heroes of Caldraza are thrown centre stage, as the fate of the entire world falls upon their shoulders.
In distant Xoth Sarandi, the Crossroads of the World, Ashfar’s diplomats convene and it is there that the heroes of Caldraza must make their stand against the combined might of kings to unite the free nations against the drow.
First, though, there is an ocean to cross, and strange secrets brood in its depths. The menace of the maelstrom is not the mere ocean hazard that it appears and the pirate tribe called the Sea Harriers prove to be more than just a band of opportunistic brigands. Legends tell of sunken cities far to the south, but not all such cities remain submerged when there are deals to be made with ancient creatures from times before mankind arose.
Despite the danger of the ocean passage, Xoth Sarandi must be reached, for only there, amid the politicians and assassins, can new friends provide welcome help. Tired of their government’s endless neutrality, a conclave of powerful elven mages reveals the secret to breaking the drow’s dark spell, directing the heroes into the most icy and remote corners of Ashfar and from there, on to worlds darker and more sinister.
The long journey towards a final confrontation with the drow takes the heroes of Caldraza from embattled cities of the free world to distant peaks where only dragons dwell, in their quest to hold counsel with kings and lead armies to death. Whether the heroes or their enemies prevail remains to be seen; nothing is predestined and no answers are certain. Failure is always a possibility, for without the threat of failure, there can be no true reward in victory.
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Chapter 11 - De Profundis
30th day of The Spectre - A Home At Last and A Message Arrives
15th day of The Watchman - What's Happening In Crom Calamar?
17th day of The Watchman - Are There Drow Down In Them There Sewers?
Down the Drains
Four of the regular city guards are assigned to take the Starborn down into the sewers in order to search them for any possible drow. They travel down a set of stairs behind a locked door on the south side of the center of the city, entering the access way for the sewers and start a long circuit examining things. They proceed to their left upon entering and run across nothing more than a nasty smell and an occasional rat until Kihashi hears a very faint rumbling sound from deep underfoot. They stop and carefully listen, but no one else hears anything and when the guards are asked what they think it might be, they respond that it is probably just the echo of cartwheels going by overhead.
The group continues on heading east past the first slight jug in the walkway and reach a corner where it turns north. As they turn the corner, they hear and rising and falling moan. Just as they are about to move on, a group of three spectres rises slowly through the floor, heading for the surface. They are hissing to one another about 'many deaths', the fact that 'out time comes again' and their expectations that 'blood like spring rivers will run'. Marcus says something out loud and the three of them turn to see the group there. 'Fresh meat' they say and combat ensues. Koneko manages to turn two of them away and they disappear down the corridor to the north. The third comes up to Marcus and attacks, hitting him twice but Marcus's great Fortitude shrugs off its energy Drain ability. Marcus and the rest of them make very short work of the remaining spectre and it is destroyed.
The Starborn and guards continue heading north, reaching a point where there is a stairwell to the west leading up and a huge archway leading east. The guards tell them that the archway leads to the Halls of Groaning and warn them that they are not to go in as the Halls of Groaning are forbidden to the citizens of Crom Calamar because some of the honored ancestors do not rest peacefully as the citizens would like and those who enter the Halls of Groaning do not return. Aldanon calls for daylight from the Orb of Azurite and the group can see that the corridor extends almost 120 feet before it ends and two side passges exit to the north and south. They group continues on.
All along the way, the group is passing over grates in the floor that allow access to the chutes below that carry off the refuse through the sewers. They observe nothing out of the ordinary in them and reach the end of the current passage where it turned to the east. They travel down the passage, past another stairwell that leads out. A short distance beyond that they discover a tunnel bored through the walls to the north and south. They send two of the guards back to the stairwell to warn someone that something is possibly down here and then follow the ten foot wide tunnel to the south.
They enter a chamber that is about 60 feet by 40 feet in size with a pool taking up about a quarter of the room in the southwest corner. This are is supposed to contain a deep pool of noisome slurry, the run-off from the sewers, as a form of overflow control in the event of a flood. But a Koneko approaches the pool of water bordered by a stone ridge, he finds that it is clear water. As marcus approaches to take a look, a tentacle comes out of the pool and attacks him. The group begin to fight whatever is in the pool when a scream is heard from behind them.
Some other creature has slammed one of the guards and Ba'Holder, who are now both covered with some sort of slime that burns like acid. Fortunately for the group, they managed to get the first strikes in on the Aboleth in the pool, killing it before it can do anything else. Unfortunately during that time, Kihashi attacked the Devler in the tunnel and to her horror, her signature weapon dissolved before her eyes after she struck the creature. It is then that Aldanon, Ophis and Kihashi here, in undercommon, a voice saying, 'Please stop, I was being forced to harm you' and the creature in the tunnel backs up a little. In the meantime, Ophis has taken the decanter of endless water from Aldanon and activiated it on its highest setting, trying to hose Ba'Holder down but only succeeding in having himself knock over and the guard that was slimed has turned into a pile of goo.
The Delver, by the name of Aza Yog, explains that the Aboleth, Spa-Tront, was controlling its mind and forced it to attack. Spa-Tront was trying to begin enslaving the occupants of the city and was using Aza Yog to create tunnels that would enable it to move around more easily. When Aza Yog is asked about information, he informas them that he has not burrowed under this area very often, as all the good minerals are gone, the little dark ones have taken them and are magin a big metal thing. He also agrees to the groups request to do a little scouting for them as a reward for freeing him from the Aboleth and will meet them back here tomorrow evening as the sun sets. Marcus also tries to fish the Aboleth out of the pool, but its 6500 pounds is far too heavy for the group to ull up. The remaining guard informs marcus that he will be bringing a crew back to pull then nasty thing up for examination once he reports back to his superiors. Marcus asks if he wants to return now but he responds that the group should finish the search of the sewers first.
The group resumes their walk through the sewers without any further interruptions or revelations. Upon leaving from the stariway entrance they arrived at, the guard agrees to meet with them late tomorrow morning to fill them in on any details of what they find with the Aboleth. The group heads back to the stable area where they left their horses, to go to the Inn of the Green Embers, but night has fallen and the city gates are closed. They stay overnight in a nearby tavern/inn.
After sepnding the evening at the tavern/inn where they put their horses up, the group spends some time finding out a bit about the city, before going to meet up with the guards from the day before. They find out the following information:
- The iron masks that the dukes wear have magical powers.
- The drow used to hold land right here in Jehannum but were driven off.
- The upper city, Crom Crythni, is much older than the lower part.
- The tomb district has many underground chambers, which are called the Halls of Groaning and are forbidden to all. One is allowed to enter the graveyards but may not descend below, as it insults the ancestors.
- If anyone asks one to fight, it is bad manners to refuse.
- The drow who used to live here were not only driven away, they were massacred by the hundreds. They were the descendents of non-combatants left fatherless by the last war. Humans used to collect drow scalps and claim bounties for them.
- Bomber Haggon is more than just a merchant; he effectively runs the lower city, since he owns so much of it. Fortunately, he counts himself an ally of the Iron Dukes.
The group then heads out in mid to late morning to meet up with the guard from the day before, but...
The Rise of the Darkspear
The usual sounds of the morning suddenly give way to a distant rumble. Vibrations quiver through the ground beneath your feet. People who were going about their business stop to listen. It sounds as if something huge is rolling through the city’s sewers.
The Starborn turn to each other and can be heard saying "Oh, no, this does not sound good".
The rumbling sound is growing louder and louder. Now the ground is actually shaking visibly. The cobbles in the streets are cracking out of the cement. A single window in a nearby shop shatters.
The rumble becomes a roar, then the sound of an avalanche, deafening you. The citizens are yelling in alarm; the guards do not seem to know what to do. The yells become screams as an immense shape, a spire of black steel the size of a cathedral tower, breaks through the city streets. The spire rises and rises as buildings around its widening base crumble and collapse. At last it stops, higher than any of the buildings in the city, dwarfing even Burgenstoch Castle. It must be hundreds of feet across at the base. With a sound like a great bell chiming doom, metal doorways open in its sides. For a moment, the only sound is of loose stones falling.
From the top of the spire, living darkness seethes in a cloud, spraying out from a mass of jet-black crystal as large as a giant’s head. The darkness floods into the streets, like ink filling a bowl, turning a scene of day into one of midnight. The citizens scream and cower, fearing the end of the world.
A dome of darkness steadily rises over the city’s roofs. Those few citizens who have managed to keep their wits about them hurriedly spark torches and lanterns alight, only to find that they shed a sickly green glow instead of their usual comforting rays.
While the citizens and soldiery alike struggle to cope with the sudden darkness, crowds gather at the foot of the spire, terrified but wondering what will come next. From the openings at the base of the spire emerge rank upon rank of drow warriors, dressed in fine dark mail and purple cloaks, led by war-priestesses and cowled wizards. They take up defensive positions around the spire, training crossbows upon the citizenry, but not firing. From within the spire, the words ring out:
‘We, the armies of the Ennead, have taken back what was ours. The land that you stole from us is once again under our control, after too many bitter years. We have doomed the five proudest cities of Jehannum – Crom Calamar, Vorgsbund, Nebelkir, Dun Brondel and Esveltarn – to eternal night. You will submit to us, or you will be destroyed.’
Immediately, voices begin to shout defiance.
The Starborn break off into two groups. Koneko calls for his warhorse and starts heading for the Shardill Stair to warn the Iron Dukes. Everyone else starts to try and rally the guards they see in order to mount a defense. Aldanon calls forth daylight from the Orb of Azure, but it also glows in a sickly green light.
The people of Jehannum are not inclined to accept defeat, even when a terrible new phenomenon has ravaged their city without warning and an army stands ready to begin slaughtering them. A few arrows whiz into the ranks of the drow. The people cheer.
The cheers become screams as the whole of the black spire pulses, once, like a huge heart beating. A shockwave rips outwards from it, flailing the streets and buildings like a whip. Yawning cracks grind open in the roads; people stagger back from the edge and some tumble in, their shrieks fading as they fall. A cart rocks on the edge of the chasm and the next moment is gone, horse and all, flailing down into the dark. Houses fall with crash after crash, toppling as easily as dominoes, sending choking clouds of dust into the dark air. Church steeples buckle and collapse.
As the dust settles, the cracks in the ground close up with a groaning sound, swallowing the victims. The screams begin afresh, but this slaughter is not the cause. People in the crowds are pointing upwards to where the air above the spire is shimmering.
A titanic shape comes slowly into view, clinging to the spire like a serpent twined around a tree. It is pitch black from the plates of its scales to the leathery sails of its wings; though it is half-invisible against the darkness of the dome, there is no mistaking the fierce green glow of its eyes or the whiteness of its teeth.
‘As we have said,’ the voice gloats, ‘you will submit to us.’
Retreat
Both Koneko Arean and the rest of the Starborn realize that anything they might do will be futile. They turn and head in a circuitous route south and then west, to get to their horses, the west gate and out of the city. Kihashi sprints ahead in order to get to the horses first and get them ready for the group. Koneko, on horseback already, manages to catch up with the group as it nears the wharf district and they can see, when they look back into the city that the drow are now starting to climb up the Shardill Stair.
They continue on, reaching Kihashi who has the horses ready. Mounted, they ride to the west gate, which is closed. The guards are refusing to open them, claiming that the Iron Dukes have ordered all citizens to stand and fight. Aldanon and two others teleport to the outside of the gate while Marcus Ironwill attempts to convince the guards to open the gate. With a little bit of intimidation and one hell of a convincing argument, he convinces the guards and the gate is opened.
Meeting the Contact
Once out the now open gates of the city, the Starborn ride forth down the road and find the Inn of the Green Embers. The dome of darkness covers the entire city of Crom Calamar but does not extend too much further than that, and the people they see fleeing the city on their way to the inn are slightly relieved by that, but still running on in panic. The Starborn pull up in front of the inn, dismount their horses, tied them up and enter.
The inn is all but abandoned, only the barkeep and a single fiure in a hooded cloak are in attendance. Thehooded figure beckons them over and withdraws his hood, revealing the pointed ears and almond eyes of a pure-blood elf. He introduces himself:
‘You can only be the Starborn. I am Nimian Archimandrus, one of the mages of Xoth Sarandi. I am sorry that your efforts to warn the Iron Dukes were in vain. In truth, there was little they could have done to defend against this assault. We learned of the Darkspear too late. Perhaps, had they listened, more lives could have been saved… but it is futile to dwell on that now.
‘As you are no doubt aware, the enemies you faced in Chillhame and Caldraza were not the same drow that have captured unfortunate Crom Calamar. House Arakh, your former adversaries, were a disgraced and exiled house, raised temporarily to prominence when the force that opposes you – the force we call the Dark – incarnated itself in one of their priestesses. While House Arakh held the favour of the Dark, the other drow houses held back from action, not fully understanding the will of their master and not wishing to pre-empt it. Now that House Arakh is shattered and fallen once more, the nine houses of the Ennead have returned to their original plan. They have taken not only Crom Calamar but four other cities of Jehannum, all in one stroke. This nation is now lost. Once the drow have enslaved the populace and exterminated the rebels, they will turn their eyes upon other nations.
‘Peace in this part of the world depended upon Jehannum’s strong dominion. It will not be difficult for the drow to set nations against one another, sapping their strength, flattering their pride and steadily encroaching upon them, establishing embassies and power bases. That is how they work, through insidious manipulation and the degradation of will.
‘Hear me now. The elf-lords of Xoth Sarandi know more than any mortal alive about the drow, their sources of power and how to combat them. We have remained aloof from the battles of men for centuries, but now that our old enemies have returned, we can no longer remain wholly disinterested. I ask you to accompany me to Xoth Sarandi, where the High Council will speak with you about what is to be done. Although it may seem impossible now, the drow can be beaten. From Xoth Sarandi, one can access all the lands of the world. If you act now, then you may be able to garner the help we need and rally the nations against the Dark before it is too late.’
Setting Sail
27th day of The Great Wolf - The Search For Azbeth
The contents of a journal, found by Kihashi, translated by Nimian Archimandrus:
Entry One
Objective: Devise and execute a solution to the problem of the blasted sea-portal. My people command an immense army but are lacking in naval power and are likely to remain so until the day that oak trees grow in the Sunless World.
Even if we take Crom Calamar at a stroke, which Rannirak assures us can be done (and I believe him), it will not remain ours for long. The tactician Maskuz Vellin, writing in the time of the old Equinox, reminds us that principalities are either easily taken and hard kept, or taken with great effort and then kept more easily. Crom Calamar shall be a victory of the former kind.
Without some upper-world power base, there is no way we can assemble a fleet and prevent reinforcements arriving through the sea-portal. The likelihood of us acquiring one is slim to nil. Where would we build ships? Come to that, where would we board them? There are no harbours in the Sunless World.
Conclusion: Make an alliance with a force that is capable of executing the kind of blockade we need for long enough for us to slash the heart out of Crom Calamar. No land-based kingdoms but Visk and Kandang have shown any willingness to consider an alliance. Visk cares only for itself and Kandang is too thick with webs of corruption and intrigue. It must be the neutrals, then, the pirates of the Shard or the Sea Harriers.
Entry Two
The Pirates of the Shard have proved useless, though I seem to have fathered a brat on one of them, which added some spice to the trip. They are simply too fond of chaos. One can sustain their interest only with gold or the promise of gold and even that is no guarantee that they will keep to a bargain. They have no ‘fleet’ to speak of; it is only a shabby gathering of brigand vessels, working on the principle of each man for himself, united by nothing more than terror of capture and punishment.
The Sea Harriers have proved far more worthy of my time. The problem is that they do not think me worthy of theirs. They call me ‘grubbesh’ and think me, a noble of the Crevasse of Concatenate Lanterns, to be a mere hedge-wizard. My anger is so great that I must discharge it in private with small acts of torture, which at least grant me sleep.
My only recourse is to make myself indispensable to them. Let me, then, climb this arduous ladder. For Tzummu and the Ennead! For Arkady!
Entry Three
One is now an honoured navigator. One is satisfied.
Even so, my privileges are limited. The amma hadrak sees all, controls all. Without her word, the Harriers will not lift a finger to aid us. As yet, she has baulked at any suggestion that they might take sides in a war. It is not their way, she says. She quipped a saying at me: the fisherman does not choose sides in a battle of fish.
Some days the insularity and hauteur of these people infuriates me. On others it seems that they are more like us than any other race of the upper world. I have dealt with the rage in the usual manner. Part of me wonders, in an alarmingly disconnected and abstract fashion, what would become of me if the remains were found. Perhaps this life of eternal seas and open skies is driving me mad. I have been compelled to huddle in the cupboard to remind myself what it is like to be enclosed by stone.
Entry Four
Disaster. The amma hadrak has forbidden any further discussion of the blockade plan. She feels that the Celebration would be in too much danger of discovery. Their way is to strike fast and vanish fast, not to sit like… what was the phrase?… a whale with his mouth open, waiting for prey to swim in. Damn her greasy hide. Damn all of them. Damn this cat’s water I am obliged to drink to quieten my head. This demands something more. Yes, I know what will settle my seething brains.
Entry Five
I am filled with joy, as if the sun had all of a sudden vanished behind a mighty thundercloud.
The tales speak of three artefacts, resembling standing stones in their outward appearance, that have the power to lift entire masses of land into the air. The Stone of Caradeth was one such; Bruin the Abjurer transported it to the island of Chillhame, according to legend, though what became of it then is not known. Another was the Stone of Zaul, which the formidable but mad Shura Krai of Kandang employed to hoist off the mountain peak beneath which his enemies were hiding, exposing their stronghold of tunnels as if it were a smashed termite mound. The third, the Stone of Melvek, is now in our secure hold. How this has come about, I shall not say.
Taking a small ship and crew with me (for it would not do to endanger the flagship), I have spoken to one of the former masters of Lost Athul. In future, let no man speak to me of ‘terror’ who has not gone out alone in a rowing boat and spoken with a creature whose eye was four times his own height. The beast has consented to my proposal. We shall use the Stone of Melvek to raise Lost Athul from the sea bed, so that the Harriers can retrieve what the kraken wants.
Ever since it sank, Lost Athul has been guarded by weird sea-beasts, set there by the same archmagi that condemned the city to drown. Omorogg confirmed that no kraken has ever eluded these beasts, nor have the krakens’ lesser agents prevailed. But how shall the seabeasts stand in our way when the city itself is no longer submerged? It is a brilliant plan. My brain is the same rare crystal of intellect that it always was.
So, three steps there are. The Harriers fetch the krakens’ stone eggs from Lost Athul; my kinsmen reward the Sea Harriers with gems from the Sunless World; the kraken blockades Crom Calamar in exchange for its stone eggs.
Entry Six
Word has come from Rannirak. The Darkspear is in readiness and he is mad to begin the invasion. So, I am obliged to do my part before the eggs are secure. The kraken has reluctantly agreed to begin the blockade early, though it insisted on some guarantee of our good faith. With no other way to provide this, I have given it my crystal ball, so that it can monitor our progress. I can feel the thing scrying on us, almost every day. Its cold, clammy presence is unmistakable. I do not wish to write of the bitter fury I feel at having to give up an item on which I had become so dependent. It is not as if I can simply purchase another one out here in this miserable dereliction of waters.
I believe the kraken will wait patiently for its property to be delivered. Nothing could disguise the greed in those vast eyes. It wants the eggs desperately, though for what, I cannot tell. Nor do I especially care to know.
Greedy though the beast is, we cannot expect it to wait forever by the portal on a mere promise. As soon as this business of the elf spy is concluded, we will make for Lost Athul. The kraken will be able to watch as we raise the dead city, which should please it. Damn the elf grubbesh for delaying us. If I only knew the spell, I would sequester the wench.
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