The Rime of Infinite Winter: Session 19 — Legends & Demons

SESSION NINETEEN
LEGENDS AND DEMONS

The Lionshields arrived through the magical portal, hot on the trail of Tanatar Daranthain and his Tabaxi ally, the assassin Cardoc Thongar, finding themselves in a long, imposing hall with two sets of doors to investigate.

Kari and Nammosi headed north, discovering another portal chamber beyond, when the east doors opened and a well-groomed human entered, proclaiming himself The Herald. After some banter, with tensions increasing, Elrian wisely cast Charm Person, enthralling the servitor, and having him lead them to his master.

Beyond the towering doors was a spectacular and imposing chamber, with eerily translucent floors revealing the expanse of deep space beneath their feet. North were a set of impressive double doors, before which stood Tanatar and Cardoc, flanked by beholderkin. South, however, beyond a bloodied summoning circle, raged a balor demon, trapped within a conjurer’s trap. Taking caution not to disrupt the arcane magics, the Lionshields concentrated on their prey.

After some biting banter, with Tanatar impressing upon them that he would find allies among the Summer Court, the ruling faction of this temple complex, Peron had had enough. He let loose a barrage of arrows, crippling his foe. Cardoc retaliated, wounding Kari, as the rest of the party maneuvered into action. Nammosi leveled some serious magic against them, twinning a spell that nearly felled both adversaries.

Sensing victory close at hand, Elrian called for The Herald to render them unconscious, but, not being a fighter, the enthralled servant instead thrust open the towering doors and called for aid against the Lionshields’ opponents. Tanatar and Cardoc retreated, following The Herald into the chamber beyond, with Nodnal hot on their tail.

Nod came to a screeching halt. Before him were towering statues of twin mages with an altar between them. About the large temple space were a number of red robed acolytes working at tables covered in ancient tomes and arcane apparatuses. But those things barely registered with the Tabaxi. Instead his focus was on a group of ten individuals in a sort of lounge area before the altar. When one of them spoke, Nodnal knew that things had taken a decidedly ominous turn.

“Nodnal Cymric?” The voice spoke, deep and resonant. “What the bloody hell brings you here?”

The voice belonged to none other than Righ Leomahnn, a wealthy Tabaxi merchant whom Nod had been in service to, until he had a romantic encounter with Righ’s wife that is. Nod had been running from bounty hunters ever since.

In Righ’s company was a veritable ‘who’s who’ of Enochia’s most elite spellcasters: Moloquin Gray, former Headmaster of Crowhaven’s College of Faith, Heart, & Steel. Varja Safarh, former Blackstaff of Waterdeep. Dalv Lucard, High Mage of Etrustivale. Gaston Delacourt, First Wizard of Ferrant and member of the Black Spire. Abraxas, the current Blackstaff of Waterdeep. Jone Constance, Hellblazer and Crime Lord of Undermountain. Jace ibn Alhazared, infamous merchant of the macabre. Delarious , the spectral remains of the wizard who put the “High” in High Magic. And lastly, Salazar Redmon, occult detective and Lord of the Tower of High Sorcery in Bloodhaven.

And in the center of them all, the wounded Tanatar Daranthain.

The rest of the Lionshields entered, each taken aback by the assemblage of magical might all under one roof. All but Peron, whose blazing hatred was leveled at Daranthain.

Abraxas Blackstaff asked for an explanation and Peron shared how his House was dishonored and that Tanatar needed to pay with his life. Upon hearing the sorted tale of betrayal, the Blackstaff drummed his fingers together and called the ranger forward. “Let’s have it then,” he said. “Let us see this end rightly in a Trial by Combat. Swords, if you please.”

Peron wasted no time. Casting Misty Step, the elven ranger appeared behind his adversary and, with a single stroke of his magical blade, relieved Tanatar’s neck of the burden of supporting the betrayer’s head.

From deeper into the temple, a resonating clap echoed throughout the great room. Turning, the Lionshields and collective mages saw a lone figure descend the western stair. Clad in a long surcoat adorned with archaic embroidery, the figure struck a commanding image. While somewhat elvish in appearance, his beauty was marred by twin mouths and a third eye.

“That…was… glorious,” he said. He approached slowly, but with arrogance and confidence to spare. “Please, allow me to introduce myself, I am… Choronzon.”

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