Author's Notes:
This story follows our adventures through the 3.5 supplement The Red Hand of Doom. The PDF is available open source if you want to have a look for it (it's already quite well-known). It is the third story in this series: please see The Sleeping Cleric, and Eisenmond first if you haven't yet read them. This story will be much longer than the other two, probably weighing in at around fifty chapters by the end. The chapters themselves will mostly be longer as well (probably by about a thousand words each, on average).
We had all levelled to 5 before starting this campaign, without any major deviations from the norm. I made one permitted change to Elantar, swapping out proficiency with Hand Crossbows for proficiency with Shuriken. I didn't really like the HCb, and having to carry around ammo for it was a bit of a pain. With all the Alchemist's Fire, Flasks of Acid and Thunderstones that we found in the previous adventure, I decided to go more for thrown weapons at range with her. Shuriken may only be D2 damage, but I'd only be looking for a Sneak Attack Damage delivery system anyway.
James wanted to make more of Boshley's connection to Badgers; he had been riding a Pony called Gerald to get to our first adventure, but switched this out in favour of a Dire Badger, which he would later take mounted-combat related feats for. As Gerald hadn't been specifically mentioned in the first story (nor anyone else's mounts for that matter), there wasn't any going back over that needed doing; I'll simply begin to drop reference to any significant creatures like this, and Taldir's familiar, as they become important.
Kim (Coralyn) had a crack at D&D, but didn't enjoy it all that much – she stuck around for a session or two into this story arc (probably up until we actually reached Drellin's Ferry) before calling it a day. We kept Coralyn around for a while until we could take her out of the story at a suitable point. It was very useful to still have a walking first aid kit around…
Here begins 'The Red Hand'…
The Red Hand
Prologue
"This village is not the power it once was…" The Cleric stated, wincing, as if he hated to admit the fact. He stood hastily, knocking his stool over in the process. "We're running out of time!" he exclaimed with panic.
Sellyria Starsinger closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She knew that Illian's observation was correct, and that her community was isolated and in desperate need of help. She also knew Illian well enough to know that letting him finish would make it easier in the long run.
"Jaarmath has always been so short-sighted," he continued to vent as he paced the room. "Brindol will fall just as easily!" The Mayor's letter – a response to their warning and request for aid – swung from his clenched fist. He assumed a mocking voice, and read an extract aloud again.
"We cannot, in all conscience, provide aid to your constant imagined threats. Regiarix is long defeated and knows that any attempts to enter the Vale will result in his doom. His fear of me outstrips all ambition or notions of greatness. Let him rot in the ruins of Rhest!"
"Fool!" Illian bellowed, and hurled the note into the flames of his hearth. He continued to pace the hut, snarling and balling his fists. Sellyria waited. When the Cleric returned to his seat, she finally spoke up.
"There are others; Brindol is not the only home of fighters in the Vale."
"You know that Dennovar have already refused aid!" he snapped. "Would you have us beg the Dwarfs?"
"Never!" she responded, with genuine conviction. "But still, there are others: less official; less professional… but still others who'd get the job done."
"Go on…"
"Kerden Jaarmath was young when he chased the Wyrm off first time, and was rightly hailed as a hero. He's past it now, of course, but he's still an inspiration. There are hundreds in the Vale looking to make a name for themselves. We find some, and bring them here." Illian nodded in agreement.
"That won't be easy… But it could work, Sellyria." He paused, and eyed her sternly.
"What is it?" she asked. He nodded, and poked out his tongue slightly. It was an odd quirk, but she knew he did this when he was concentrating hard and piecing fate-lines together.
"There are several possibilities opening up, "he ventured. "I've seen a few paths that could converge here. I never related them to the Dragon before…"
"The girl who's dreams you keep toying with?"
"She's one," he answered. "The Vale will need her when the invasion comes, whatever happens with the Wyrm."
"So why have you been pushing her north?"
"It's unclear as yet… but the invasion is still a few months off, and she's stubborn. Or perhaps too timid to venture out yet… She's young, foolish and only
Human, after all."
"Who else?"
"I don't know," he answered bitterly. "Not all of them. Not specifically." He eyed her sternly and weighed his next words. "But I know who you need to send."
"Send? Where? For what?"
"To Dennovar. For recruitment."
"You're right," she nodded slowly. "It'll be risky to be without him for a time, but Fibônir is perfectly suited to this task."
"Not Fibônir…"
"Ceraléth?" Sellyria guessed. "She's too valuable to risk like this… and the town may need her!" The Cleric shook his head.
"No… there's one we can afford to let go; he needs to redeem himself…"
She knew exactly who Illian was describing.
"I really don't think that's a good idea… He's not ready to re-enter the wider world. And he's the last person we need to be sending to broker an alliance. You know he doesn't relate well to outsiders since his last experience… and you've heard the rumours."
"He wouldn't be the first from this village to father and then abandon a child… I don't believe it anyway…" Illian stated dismissively. "And it's irrelevant in any case. You know how resourceful he claims to be; he'll have to improvise… We need him again." She shook her head.
"We need him." The Cleric fixed her gaze firmly.
Sellyria sat in silence. She said nothing for a few minutes and considered her options.
"Sellyria? This needs to be done," Illain finally said.
"I know." She stood and breathed heavily. "I'll go and speak to him now. He's been hinting at wanting to leave again. I imagine he'll be happy to set out tomorrow… That might be too soon even… My point is, I don't think he'll take much convincing."
She left the Cleric's tent and strolled slowly across the public space. The nightly fire was lit, and the citizens were beginning to gather; there would be songs late into the night to accompany the annual feast to Elhonna, and the town had been preparing for weeks. The night would be a fitting send off for him.
Sellyria found her son with the few friends he kept close, taking in wine at the Tavern.
"Eldarion? We need to talk…"
* I *
Elsir Vale, three months later.
Buttercup was looking very pleased with herself. She rose majestically from the rock where she had been sitting and cleared her throat. As she watched her from the cover of the trees, Elantar reflected that, were she to compile a list of things that she was expecting Buttercup to do next, this would never have been one of them.
"Flowrs R purty
Sunshyn is nice
Downt kill juss fir killin
Bean nice is nice."
She giggled as she finished and broke into a huge grin that stretched across her face. Elantar, confused, and looked on in stunned silence.
"Buttercup?" Gravak called as he approached the clearing. "We're moving on now." He spoke Orcish, but Elantar had improved her use of the language in recent weeks and, with Gravak's assistance, was learning fast. The Barbarian gathered her pack and made ready to leave.
"Have you seen Elantar?" he continued. "She came this way looking for you." Buttercup shook her head and took a final glance around the clearing. Elantar retreated from her position, slipping silently back through the undergrowth to take a more direct route back to their campsite.
The party had been travelling west for three days now, heading for the remote town of Drellin's Ferry, the last settlement before the ruins of Vraath Keep. They had left Brindol that morning in good spirits; settlements along the Dawn Way were spaced more-or-less a day's travel apart and they were able to sleep securely in warm, comfortable inns each night, and begin and end each day with a good meal.
The Vale was opening up around them as they travelled. The Dawn Way ran through the southern valley side of the Elsir and the river itself came close to the road where they had stopped for the midday rest; several of the party had made towards it for refreshment. It was Taldir who was usually most impatient during these halts, and Boshley who seemed to enjoy them the most, taking the opportunity to bond more closely with Boaz, his Dire Badger. The creature was the Gnome's mount, but it seemed to Elantar as if it was also his closest friend.
Buttercup had been spending as much time alone as she could, and Elantar was determined to find out why. When her and Gravak split up to look for her before they moved on, she'd snuck up on the Half-Orc and eavesdropped. "Poetry?" she whispered aloud to herself incredulously before she approached the waiting party.
"Why are you alone?" Taldir demanded. "If she doesn't come back within the next five minutes, you can all wait for her without me!"
"Take it easy Taldir…" Taran announced. "There's really no rush; we're not going any further than Talar today, and that's only another couple of hours or so further. We've got plenty of time."
"Time!" he growled in response. "He speaks of time…" the Wizard muttered to himself as he turned away in disgust. Taldir had taken a Raven Familiar in Brindol, and the bird descended to perch on his outstretched arm. Elantar watched him walk away with it.
"Don't mind him Taran," Arden offered. "It's a Tuesday. He's never really got the hang of those. Wednesdays are bad too. Have you seen him on a Sunday yet? Come to think of it, just don't talk to him. Unless of course, you start to feel concerned that you're getting a bit arrogant, and want reassurance."
"Such a way with words!" Coralyn laughed with her. "If that made any sense, I'd probably agree…" she added. Her and Arden had become good friends over the past few days. Arden was pleased to have around what she referred to as 'decent female company' when she thought Elantar couldn't hear.
"Poetry?" she whispered again.
"Poetry?" Boshley asked, as Elantar snapped to sudden attention. "What about it?"
"Erm… never mind," she responded. "Here they come," she announced as the Orcs returned. Buttercup was still looking very chirpy, but Gravak wore a dumb-struck look of confusion.
Dennovar, four days earlier.
"You'd never know it had ever been missing!" Arden exclaimed excitedly. Taran brandished his new hand and grinned.
"I'd been trying to tell you how powerful Nethril was. I don't know why I didn't think of it before; all those weeks spent trying to accept being without it, and he grows it back in seconds."
Taran joined them at the table. Apart from Boshley, who was busy getting to know some of the locals at the bar, the whole party had assembled to hear what Taran Goldstar had to say. They had spent the last couple of weeks in Dennovar after an uneventful journey back from Torlynn in the north, where they had gone originally to find and rescue the Apprentice Wizard. They had returned with Taran, and a decent fortune besides.
"So…" Taran began, pausing to sip from his wine cup. "I'm coming to you with this because I've learned not to go off exploring old ruins by myself, and I know that you can handle yourselves. I feel like there can be some trust between us. Besides, this undertaking could benefit us all." They all waited expectantly for him to continue, but instead he said: "shouldn't the Gnome be over here too?"
"He'll toe the line," Taldir declared. "He cares little for discussions like this. He'd be much happier if we left him to drink and filled him in tomorrow."
"Still," Taran responded, "If he's to be a part of this, I want him to know where we're going and what we could be heading for. I don't want another repeat of what happened with that… What was his name?"
"Eldarion…" Arden answered, screwing her face up as if the name bought an uncomfortable taste.
"That's right. I for one could be risking a lot going on this journey; I don't want any gains snatched away by the greed of one... I want everyone in on this discussion; anyone not at this table doesn't come, as far as I'm concerned."
"Bosh!" Arden called. A few voices fell quiet as they turned to see what the disturbance was.
"Bosh!" she repeated a little louder. The Gnome remained undisrupted and continued talking to a couple at the bar who were laughing along to what he was saying.
"Bosh!" she tried again, even louder; Coralyn joining her this time. By now, the whole room had fallen silent, and the Gnome heard the call.
"What?" he shouted back. Arden beckoned him over, and he dropped from his stall and stomped across the room.
"You need to be here," Arden said as he reached the table and the background chatter started up again. "Taran has a job offer for us."
"Ugh…" he gestured, taking a seat. "More historical scrolls? I'm not really interested…"
"No, not at all," the Wizard answered. "Well… a bit." He paused as he sipped from his wine cup and cleared his throat.
"The ancient family of Vraath," he began, "abandoned their fortress on the western borders of the Wychwood several decades ago."
"Why?" Arden asked.
"They had some problems with Forest Giants, I believe. The details are uncertain… anyway, that's not important."
"Not important? It'd be good to know what we're heading towards, Apprentice," Taldir countered.
"Whatever chased them from their home is long gone; dead or otherwise departed," Taran continued. "The strongest evidence does seem to support the Forest Giant theory."
"Where is all this leading?" Arden pressed. "It is leading somewhere, isn't it?"
"Indeed," the Wizard said with a grin. He dropped his voice and leant closer into the table. "The Vraath family had considerable fortune; a fortune which has never been found. My research seems to suggest a secret room beneath the keep, where they locked away their treasures. It is claimed that nobody has ever found this room."
"Where did you learn all of this?" Gravak demanded.
"There was much interesting information amongst the scrolls we liberated from Demara's Fortress. Eldrann and I have spent considerable time extracting what we could, cross-referencing everything we could find on the Vraath. All evidence suggests that their fortune lies unclaimed in this hidden room.
"Now, as you all know, my last attempts at uncovering a secret hoard did not go at all well, and that's where you all come in. I'm not going to hide the fact that I can't do this without help and I'd rather work with a group that I know I can work with. Nethril has people, of course… But they're his people."
"And we're your people, are we?" Elantar asked threateningly. Taran shook his head with a frown.
"It's not like that… I'm proposing a mutually beneficial arrangement; I do not wish to employ you or lead you, simply to offer you the opportunity to go and explore a ruined fortress that should contain a considerable fortune. The only catch is that I want to come along and share in the spoils."
"The only catch? Are you sure?" Arden asked.
"Well, OK…" he responded, "one more, but I'm convinced you'll agree to it."
"Let's hear it then," Arden added.
"My terms are very generous; I lay claim to any and all documents of historical interest, and an equal share in any treasure found. You all claim an equal share in the treasure, and I'll come along with you as a guide and companion. I know the whereabouts of the keep, and have contacts in all of the towns along the Dawn Way; the local knowledge will benefit us all."
"Sounds very reasonable to me," Arden answered. "Any objections?" Nobody had any.
"Good!" Taran exclaimed. "We can expect to be gone no more than three weeks or so; probably not as long as that. It's a seven-day ride to Drellin's Ferry, the last settlement westward-bound on the Dawn Way, and another day or so to Vraath Keep. When can you be ready to leave?"
"The day after tomorrow?" Gravak suggested. Everybody assented, and the departure was set.
"Be ready to leave at sunrise," Taran said. "I need to report back to my Master, tell him that you're on board and how long we should be gone. Enjoy the rest of your evening!" he exclaimed with a wave and was gone.
"Well…" Arden began, "should be fun. The open road, a rumoured ancient treasure hoard… What could go wrong?"