A Whole New World

When he stepped through the gate he could see what the old dragon had meant. There really was a battle going on, but compared to the battles he had fought as a centurion of the Hell's armies, this looked like a mere skirmish. He looked around. He was in a room filled with dead bodies and surrounded only by a few mortals who seem to have defended the gate. Thereanthor had already taken care of the attackers within the room and was on his way outside.
He moved to the door and had a look. His new empire. Without fire. Without rivers of magma and the ash hills. His new home!
He saw the dragon engulfed in magic attacks and foot soldiers. What a puny attempt to stop his entry to this world. He summoned Drogoth, his loyal cornugon, into the area that his meteor swarm had just cleared. The opponents fell like flies and his minion liked that sort of unfair battle. Another two erinyes should be enough to take care of the flying druids and help Thereanthor by keeping the spellcasters busy.

His plan had worked. After a few unsuccessful attempts to create a bridgehead, he finally stepped into this world. He never should have sent his minions to seduce and deceive mortals. Sometimes you have to do a job yourself if you want it to be done. Here in the mountains he had space and time to build up a power base. The dragon had accumulated much treasure which should help in finding new underlings quickly and the weakness of the mortals to deception and promised riches should do the rest. The only thing he had to promise the dragon was to increase his wealth and to rid the world of some old enemies. What a tiny price for a whole new world. They were all thinking too small. After he has conquered this realm he will have enough power to go back and demand his rightful place as an archduke of hell.

The messages he had received before leaving Phlegethos showed that the dragon's idea of a second gate near the main city was a full success. The gate was opened from Hades and had diverted Berials attention away from the gate they had used. By the time they finish searching for him on the battlegrounds of the Blood War his grip on this world will be strong enough to hide him.
If only his attempt to move up to the rank of one of the Dark Eight would have worked 200 years ago. It had been a carefully worked out assassination plan on Zaebos, the 7th of the generals of the Blood War. He had worked himself up in Zaebos ranks and would have been his legal successor. But the attempt had failed and Zaebos had escaped unharmed. And although assassinations were a often used instrument for promotion in Baator, they were also punished by life sentence. Belial had tortured him for 200 years, but revenge is a meal best served cold. After he has taken this world, he will return and punish those who dared to keep him from his rightful place!

He looked around. The noise of the battle had almost died down. Thereanthor had returned and turned his attention to what seemed to be his followers. He had mentioned that he had created a dragon cult over the years. First out of boredom, but later he had realised that having an army worshiping him could have benefits. There were about 30 mortals in black cloaks bowing in front of him.
Another group of mortals approached him. He could feel good auras amongst them. He wondered how the dragon had deceived them into helping him. Perhaps he had underestimated the abilities of the old bat!

New Banner: Shut that door!

Who opened that door?!

I can't believe we fell into Sven's carefully laid trap.

All the time I was thinking, "What's the worst that could happen? We might let a dragon into this world. Fine, no big deal." No-one expected a pit-fiend for chrisakes!!

The most annoying thing about the whole setup is clearly shown in Kirk's succinct banner. That is the Grey Elves and the Orcs acting in unison, as one. I just can't see how they would have come to collaborate let alone communicate via something other than arrows and swords. They certainly wouldn't talk to us!

Finally, I hope that this is not the final banner showing our fave characters alive. This one isn't finished just yet, let's see what those beings from the underworld have to say about our fate ...

Three Brothers

Mendosa enters his brother’s mansion.
‘Estaban, your boy Sancho has finished his morning lesson, but he’ll never be half the swordsman Mendez has become. Why do you persist in making all your sons practice with the bow and sword? You never had a use for them yourself.’
Estaban looks up at his thickly set brother.
“I didn’t need a bow or sword because I had your steel and Duban’s arrows to protect me. I only wish that Duban had us to stand with him when he died.”
Mendosa looks down as he speaks, “He left because we wouldn’t stand with him. Despite our disagreement, I would have it that he’d never left.”
Estaban pulls himself to his feet. “He was always too headstrong. He couldn’t see that my way was always the best way.”
Mendosa looks back up. “At least he taught all the boys how to use a bow.”

Baator out of Hell

Mendez steels himself and strides towards the gigantic Dragon and the merely enormous Devil.
“Welcome to Fissa my Lords. We have managed to protect your Sorcerers and keep the Chaotic Elves and Orcs from disrupting your journey. Now that you are both safe, our work here is finished. I would be grateful for the payment promised by your agent. ‘All the gold and jewels we could want’ is what was offered, but magic is what I truly crave.”
Trying not to flinch under these demi-gods stares, Mendez holds his ground.

For Evil to Triumph…

Mendez stares in awe at the enormous blue dragon that strides through the magical portal. He’d seen a much smaller black one before and even assisted the fearless Durin in killing it…
But this terrifying creature is so much more.
Dragging his eyes away from the massive lizard, Mendez’ heart turns to ice. The creature that follows it can only be a Prince of Baator.
Twelve feet tall and wreathed in flames, it keeps its leathery wings curled around itself like a cloak.
Mendez curses himself under his breath. Why didn’t he take the shot he’d been yearning to?
Why hadn’t he disrupted the summoning spell?

... and then all hell broke loose

Actually, more helped out rather than broke loose.

First off I'd like to say sorry to Durin for not playing his character last night. Sven decreed that he'd get no experience anyway and I thought it best not to put him in the way of danger for the sake of no XP.

Secondly, thanks to Sven for a fun, if somewhat confusing and frustrating adventure.

For all our complicity with the black-cloaks I maintain that we were rather duped into ushering forth the next dark age. Sven pointed out that we could have avoided all this if we had gone with Lady Bennissa alone in the first session, but I would counter that it was the sensible decision to keep the BC's near as we would learn more of their plans that way.

And that touches on my main problem with how things turned out - despite always being open for information during game-time, none was forthcoming. I, speaking draconic, was able to learn nothing from the BCs, the Elves never so much as spoke to us and there was never any explaination why evil orcs would be fighting evil (despite the lawful/chaotic opposition).

In fact, it seems the only real information cam in the form of a DT posting the afternoon before the final battle, which we might be forgiven for not following.


So, now I await to hear our fate. Was it not always thus?

Because Everyone likes a little Head

I recently sent everyone a little headshot avatar of their character.
Some of you won't use them so I thought I'd just post them up.