10 January 2021
The party
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Kisandra Starlight – Half-Elf Sorceress (Heather)
·
Barendil Dawnwood – Elf Ranger (Robert)
·
Guillerme don d’Lyonne – Human Paladin (Martin)
·
Friar Buck Norris – Human Cleric (Silas)
·
Nobby Nobbs – Human (probably) Rogue (Tom)
A Christmas Reward
The adventurers stepped through Santa’s portal and into the
warm glow of sunlight, back in the mortal plane at White Willow Farm. A
scattering of snowflakes and a faint voice on the wind followed them as the
portal closed behind them with a tinkle.
“Thank you again, brave adventurers,” they heard. “You
displayed kindness when first you entered the Christmas Realm, freely giving to
a blind man you did not know. I now repay that kindness as you leave my realm.
We shall meet again, I am sure.”
Placed neatly beside the farmhouse gate were five finely
wrapped presents, each addressed to one of the party. They eagerly ripped open
the wrapping paper and examined the contents Santa had gifted to them…
 |
| Each member of the party received a personalised gift from Santa |
Return to Phandalin
Feeling exhausted from their adventures in the snowy
landscape of Santa’s Christmas Realm, the adventurers chose to remain at White
Willow farm for the night. The farmer was more than happy to provide them with
a sumptuous dinner and lodging, feeling that the arcane energies that had been
plaguing his farm were dissipating now that their quest was complete.
Bidding goodbye to the farm in the morning, the party left
the wagon with its rightful owner and walked the trail back to Phandalin. They
passed the time by recounting what they had learned so far in their travels and
discussing the paths that lay open before them. Nobby, having a calculating
mind that was good at remembering strategies and plans, recalled their quests:
- Discover the location of Cragmaw Castle
- Identify the Black Spider and put a stop to their scheming
- Find the wizard Iarno Albrek, a missing member of the Lord’s Alliance
- Investigate the surrounding wilderness to find the location of the Rockseeker Brothers’ camp
- Visit a banshee named Agatha, near the ruins of Conyberry Town, and ascertain the location of Bowgentle’s spellbook for Sister Garaele at the Shrine of Luck
- Deal with Orc raiders on the Triboar Trail
- Clean up the town of Phandalin by dismantling the Redbrand Ruffian gang
- Enquire at the Miner’s Exchange as to why they had not been subjected to attacks by the Redbrands
All agreed that saving the town from the predations of the
Redbrands was a high priority, but Kisandra in particular was keen to take the
fine silver comb to the banshee, as Garaele had tasked her. The opportunity to
discover something was too good to pass up, and she reasoned that they may
discover something that would aid them in their other tasks.
The group agreed on the plan but stopped in at Barthen’s provisions as they passed through the town, enquiring after the Rockseeker brothers – they had not yet returned to Phandalin for restocking, and were now a few days overdue. Barthen figured the dwarves could look after themselves, but he did admit that he was a little worried for their safety.
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| Sildar Halwinter, after a good shave and change of clothes, catches up to the party to discuss their progress |
Making a House Call
The adventurers travelled along the Triboar Trail, heading
east as they had been directed. As they walked, they could see the snow-capped tip
of Icespire Peak in the distance of the Sword Mountains to the southeast, the
enormous mountain unmistakable even at this distance. Further along, and closer
to the trail, a large rocky promontory rose out of the foothills that were
overlooked by the majestic mountains. The tor was still some distance from the
trail though, the best part of a day’s march through wild and hilly ground, but
it was a clear landmark in the wilderness.
Presently, the group arrived in Conyberry, or what was left
of it. The village had been largely reclaimed by the surrounding vegetation,
with few structures remaining. A clear trail led to the north, into the forest,
and the adventurers followed this towards where they expected to find the
banshee’s lair. As they walked through the forest, the trail wound back and
forth, deeper into the trees, while wines and moss were draped more heavily on
the branches. The air was noticeably colder than it had been in the ruined
village and, as the party rounded a final bend in the trail, they saw a screen
of warped branches ahead which were woven into a domelike shelter in the shadows.
A low doorway led inside.
Before entering the dwelling, Guillerme distributed sealing wax from his pack as Nobby had heard of the dangerous and deafening wails that banshees were known for. Kisandra was less keen to block up her ears for fear it would hamper her ability to converse with the spirit… Still, after examining the entrance for traps and finding none, Kisandra stepped through into the dome with Guillerme beside her for protection. The remaining adventurers shuffled in behind.
Within, the structure was sparsely but tastefully furnished. Both Kisandra and Barendil recognised fine elven handiwork in the furniture. As they examined their surroundings, they all felt a chill in the air and a powerful feeling of dread before the banshee herself materialised before them. She appeared as a pale elf, her hair and robes waving in a spectral wind. She might have been beautiful once…
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| Agatha the banshee |
“Foolish mortals,” she snarled. “What do you want here? Do
you not know it is death to seek me out?”
Holding her nerve, Kisandra followed the instructions from
Sister Garaele, complimenting the evil spirit and speaking to her vanity. Upon
the production of the wondrous silver comb, the banshee’s face became far less fierce
and she almost smiled.
“Very well,” said Agatha, “I know that you seek many things.
Ask me one question and I shall give you one answer.”
Carefully keeping to task, Kisandra boldly asked the
location of Bowgentle’s spell book. Agatha thought for a moment and told them
that she had not seen that particular book for nigh on 100 years, but she
remembered trading it to a necromancer named Tsernoth from the city of
Iriaebor. She didn’t know what had happened to it in the intervening years.
With their question answered, the banshee vanished from
sight. Nobby suggested poking around the contents of the dwelling, which was
not a popular suggestion with the rest of the group. Barendil was particularly
vocal about not angering the ancient spirit and stalked outside without a backward
glance. Kisandra stayed behind while the others left, in a futile attempt to
convince the rogue to leave well enough alone. It was only when Nobby felt icy
fingers encircling his neck that he realised the banshee was still present and
capable of guarding her possessions – no matter how much he enjoyed the
thrilling sensation, he was well aware that Agatha was not playing and would gladly
kill him should he disturb her sanctuary further. Finally, he relented and left
the banshee lair with the others, beginning the two-day march back to Phandalin
to inform Garaele of the information they had acquired.
Adventurers About Town
Sister Garaele was more than pleased to hear the information
gleaned from Agatha about the possible location of the spell book. She revealed
to the party that she was an agent of the Harpers, a secretive society that
prizes balance and fairness for all and has an appreciation for the natural
order of things. The Harpers work in the shadows to thwart tyrants and any
leader or group that becomes too powerful – as everyone knows, power corrupts.
Working in individual cells, the agents of the Harpers aid the weak, the poor
and the oppressed. Thanks to the information the party has gleaned, Garaele
will be able to pass on a solid lead to her counterparts in the Iriaebor region,
who will be able to continue the search for the powerful spell book.
Pleased with their efforts to help the young elf, the
adventurers walked over to the townmaster’s hall to discuss plans with Sildar
on how to tackle the Redbrand threat. Sildar explained to them that the last
couple of days had seen excessive displays of force by the ruffians across the
entire town, though the Miner’s Exchange remained unharmed. He was unsure how
the Exchange had remained safe, and suggested that the Mining Guild leader
needed investigating.
Sildar was still very concerned about the wellbeing of Iarno
Albrek, having not heard anything from the man. He gave the adventurers a more
full description of Iarno – a slight wizard with a short black beard, in his
thirties so not old for a wizard. He was beginning to fear the worst.
Additionally, Sildar reminded the adventurers about the
necessity of finding Cragmaw Castle. He offered a 500 GP reward for finding the
goblin base of operations and removing the threat, reassuring the party that he
would continue to investigate the best he could but that they should keep their
eyes open for any clues during their adventures.
Finally, the group discussed their plans for attacking
Tresander Manor, suggesting that they go and reconnoitre the Redbrand base that
afternoon and return at night to deal with the ruffians. Barendil asked Sildar
if he would lend his aid to the party, to which he confirmed that he would join
them and watch their flanks to make sure nobody followed them into the manor
once they had completed their reconnaissance.
With that, the group left Sildar to continue his work and
stepped next door to the office of the townmaster, Harbin Wester. As they
entered the room, they saw a wanted poster on the wall that was seeking
adventurers to deal with Orc trouble at Wyvern Tor, located just to the
southeast of the Triboar Trail, not far from Conyberry. A 100 GP reward was
offered for the Orcs’ heads.
Harbin himself was interested in the snatches of
conversation he had heard through the walls regarding the assault on Tresander
Manor, though he counselled against it.
“Don’t stir up trouble!” said the townmaster. “They’re just
a mercenary company, that’s all…”
As they talked to Harbin, the adventurers quickly realised
he was entirely blinkered to what was going on in his town. Whether he was
complicit in the activity or simply incompetent was less clear, but either way
they did not want him to know the details of their plan lest the Redbrands
caught wind of it and were able to prepare their defences. Friar Buck therefore
distracted the man by talking about the wanted poster; Harbin was much more
vocal about wanting the clear and obvious threat of the Orcs to be resolved.
“Consider your Orc threat resolved,” declared Buck, snatching
the wanted poster from the wall. “We leave tonight for Wyvern Tor.”
Of course, this was a lie. The adventurers had every
intention of dealing with the Orc threat, but not until the Redbrands had been
defeated and the town was a safe haven. The lie was unconvincing, but Harbin
had believed the lies he told himself about the Redbrands for so long that he
readily accepted this new deception. He seemed pleased as the party strode from
his office and, once they were gone, busied himself with the mountain of
paperwork on his desk with some degree of contentment.
Tresander Manor
Continuing their narrative of chasing down the Orcs at
Wyvern Tor for the benefit of any potential spies, the party decided to leave
Phandalin by the Triboar Trail to the north and swing round in the countryside
to arrive back at the foot of the hill on which Tresander Manor stood. Looking
up, they could see that the large manor was largely in ruins, with the main
entrance on the western side largely collapsed. A clear set of wide steps on the
east led down into cellars under the ruined building, which presumably was
where the Redbrands were hiding.
Barendil decided to get a better look, moving the party
around to the south side of the hill and within the cover of a copse of trees.
His keen elf eyes spotted a number of footprints going in and out of a small
door at the base of the hill – some sort of side entrance to the cellars. The rest
of the party bravely remained in the treeline while they allowed Barendil to
move forwards to investigate further, Kisandra whispering an incantation and sending
a glowing mage hand forward to open the door for her companion just in case there
was a trap. Nothing happened as the door creaked inwards and the adventurers
assumed that the Redbrands simply relied on the door remaining hidden to avoid
trespassers – something that was clearly ineffective when an experienced wood
elf tracker like Barendil was seeking entry.
Peering into the open doorway, Barendil saw a rough-hewn passage
extending beyond the range of his darkvision. Everything appeared to be quiet,
so he motioned for the others to join him and they began walking in through the
secret entrance. Soon, the passage opened up into a natural cavern. There was a
cold breeze, and the scent of decaying flesh filled the air. The large cavern
was bisected by a crevasse that cut through from north to south and was spanned
by two wooden bridges, one to the north and one to the south. Two large stone
columns supported the roof of the cavern some 20 feet above the adventurers’
heads.
As they entered the cavern, each member of the party felt a
tugging sensation in the back of their mind, as if they had walked into a room
to find something but forgotten what it was they were looking for. The
sensation heightened as they spread out from the passageway, with some thoughts
forming in their minds, completely unbidden.
“Oh Barendil, why do you always have to rush into battle
without thinking of the consequences?”
“Orphaned Kisandra, nobody wanted you, how sad.”
Feeling more than a little uneasy, the adventurers spotted a
rangy and pale creature crawling up the opposite wall, looking at them with
interest but keeping its distance and ensuring one of the large pillars was between
it and the party to partially obscure it. Barendil thought it resembled a
vampire, but there was something strange about this creature and it acted like
no vampire he had ever heard of.
 |
| A gangling creature could be seen crawling up the wall |
“Nobby, Nobby, Nobby, you filthy boy, you enjoyed that banshee’s grip didn’t you…”
It seemed as if the creature was able to pluck the most
miserable thoughts from the adventurer’s subconscious and shine a light on
them. Why it was doing this, they couldn’t say, but Kisandra decided to try and
communicate with the beast.
“What are you doing here? What do you want?” she called out
across the cavern.
“Food…” came the telepathic reply.
Buck opened up some of his rations and threw some food at
the creature, which it gobbled with obvious glee.
“Mmmmmm, more nicer than from that Glasstaff,” thought
the beast.
“Who is Glasstaff?” Kisandra asked, “Is he your master?”
“He in charge, him give food. More food!”
After throwing more rations to the creature, it told them
that Glasstaff was located in the western end of the basement complex. Looking
around the cavern, the adventurers could see four exits – two on the western
side of the crevasse (where they stood) and two on the east. Each of the exits
showed the rough, natural stone walls giving way to more regular masonry and
well laid paving stones. Three of the exits were corridors leading away, while
the exit ahead on the northern wall of the east side of the cavern was a larger
opening and they could see numerous sacks and crates in what looked to be a
storeroom.
While the creature was eating the rations that Buck had
thrown to it, Barendil began moving towards the closest bridge to get across to
where it was. Kisandra had a magic missile spell prepared as she was feeling
more and more uncomfortable about this fell looking creature that could apparently
read their minds, but before she could decide whether to loose the arcane bolts
there was a loud crack as the bridge collapsed under Barendil’s weight. The elf
attempted to leap to safety but he fell down into the crevasse, landing hard on
the ground among piles of bones and half-eaten corpses.
From his new vantage point, Barendil could see a chest
located at the far end of the crevasse, under the northern bridge, invisible to
onlookers from above. He picked himself up off the ground and walked towards
the potential treasure, but just as he reached his hand out to open it he was
stopped by a telepathic screech.
“Mine!” came the head-splitting thought, causing
Barendil to retract his hand momentarily.
But, as the creature skittered towards the lip of the crevasse
looking agitated, the party decided to take matters into their own hands and
sprung into action – whether to protect Barendil or the treasure chest was a
little unclear.
Nobby held his rapier aloft and charged along the western
side of the room, crossing the northern bridge without incident and attacking
the creature from behind. Meanwhile, Buck and Guillerme both leapt across the
crevasse, just making the other side without incident, and moving in to
surround the creature. Barendil began to climb the crevasse to assist his
companions but Buck called down that he should at least investigate the chest
first. Within the unlocked box was a selection of coins, two healing potions
and a scroll. But the thing that took the elf’s eye was the fine longsword,
with a hilt wrought into the shape of a bird of prey with its wings
outstretched. He grabbed the loot and moved to help the rest of the party.
Kisandra’s magic had severely weakened the creature while
Barendil was climbing the rock wall, and with the rest of the group surrounding
it they mercilessly cut the wretched beast to pieces.
Glasstaff
After being told by the creature that Glasstaff, the leader
of the Redbrands, was located in the western end of the complex, the party
decided to investigate the eastern passages. They began by walking through the
opening in the northern wall, into the apparent storeroom, to investigate the
crates and sacks that were there. Most of the goods were standard supplies, so
the adventurers replenished their rations, but they did spot a collection of
beaver pelts that Nobby mentioned were relatively valuable to the right person.
There appeared to be no exits from this storeroom so the
party turned to leave, but something caught Barendil’s sharp eyes. Slight
inconsistencies in the brickwork made him take a closer look, and upon
inspection he discerned two secret doors, one heading west and one east.
Neither appeared to be locked and so they opened the western door, finding a
small passage leading down some steps to the north. At the bottom of the steps
was another secret door leading onwards to the west, which the elf gently
pushed open.
This door opened onto a plush bed chamber. Somehow, the
adventurers had stumbled their way directly to Glasstaff’s private quarters! A
comfortable bed sat in one corner with a large chest at its foot, while a mage
with a wide-brimmed red hat and a long grey robe with a black beard poking out
of a high collar sat at a writing desk against the wall. He looked up in
surprise at the intrusion, snatching up his staff which looked like it was made
of smoky glass and jumping to his feet, knocking the chair backwards onto the
ground.
Glasstaff, in a haughty and condescending voice, managed to
ask, “What are you doing here?” before the adventurers leapt to the attack.
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| Iarno Albrek, AKA Glasstaff, in his private chambers beneath Tresander Manor |
Buck and Nobby moved forward to engage the wizard at close
combat, but as their weapons got close a bright light emanated from his staff
and rebounded one of the attacks away, though one managed to draw blood. The
mage drew energies into himself and teleported across the room, out of reach of
the warriors, while he prepared another spell to try and hold them in place. That
spell fizzled into nothing, however, while Kisandra’s retaliatory Witch Bolt
made use of the weaknesses she had detected in his defences and crackled
through the bed chamber, arcing into the mage’s chest and dropping him to his
knees.
“Stop, stop!” he cried out in pain. “I surrender!”
The adventurers moved quickly to bind the mage’s hands
behind his back with strong shackles, sitting him on the bed before questioning
him.
“I am Iarno Albrek,” the mage began, “and, yes, I have been
running these Redbrands for some time now… The Lord’s Alliance pay is so dismal,
and the Black Spider offered so much… a man of my talents deserves far more
than the tight-fisted lords of the lands were willing to pay!”
Surprised at this revelation, the party realised the value
of bringing this man back to SIldar Halwinter alive, despite Friar Buck voicing
his opinion that they should mete out swift justice in the form of a hammer to
the head there and then. Kisandra and Guillerme wanted justice as well but,
thinking with cooler heads, they managed to calm the cleric.
Barendil, after his find in the crevasse, was thinking of
the potential fortune that could be lying elsewhere in the basement of the
manor house. When he demanded Albrek draw a map of the complex, the mage
laughed at him.
“Really, my dear elf, you stand in my bed chambers, me who
is Lord of this Manor, and you ask me that? You are almost touching the finest
wooden chest one can acquire in the city of Neverwinter, and you ask me where
the treasure is? Really, I thought elves wiser than that.”
With a scowl, Barendil threw open the chest and discovered a
cache of some of the finest jewels and trinkets that the Redbrands had stolen
over the months of their terrorisation of the town. Two scrolls caught his eye,
but he could not make sense of the words scrawled on the page. He moved to hand
them to Kisandra, expecting that they needed a magical eye to read properly,
but the sorceress was preoccupied with the smoked glass staff that had given
Albrek his moniker. She hefted the weight of the staff and could feel the
power emanating from it and, based on Albrek’s use of the staff during their
brief fight, she could tell there were hidden secrets to be unlocked.
 |
| Correspondence from the Black Spider to Glasstaff |
Looking around the rest of the bed chamber, the party spotted a letter on the writing desk, addressed to Iarno. It appeared to be from this elusive Black Spider that they had been hearing about – a malevolent figure in the background who had been weaving a web of intrigue that they had been stumbling into time and again as they adventured around Phandalin. The letter made it clear that the Black Spider was aware of the adventurers and their quest to help Gundren Rockseeker and find the Lost Mine of Phandelver.
Crumpling the note in his hand, Buck turned to the mage
sitting calmly on the bed and asked, “Who is this Black Spider then? What does
he want?”
“He is a Drow,” Albrek replied, raising his eyes to stare
back at the cleric. “A Dark Elf. I agree, it’s odd that one of his kin would
operate alone here in the surface world, but he has been driven to find Wave Echo
Cave and explore the Phandelver Mine. Perhaps he wants to use the magical artefacts
contained there for some schemes back in the Underdark… I don’t know, he never
told me. All he wanted was for me to keep the local population under control
while he searched for the mine.”
“So where is this mine?” demanded the Friar. “And what do
you mean, ‘control’?!”
“Ah, now, what I wouldn’t give to know the location myself!”
chuckled Iarno, with a lustful look in his eyes. “Imagine the wonders that one
could find in that mine… But myself and my associates have been well paid for
our part, so I can’t really grumble. The Black Spider did send a few Bugbears of
the Cragmaw Tribe to assist, but we didn’t need them. They should still be here
somewhere…”
Having had enough of the wizard’s pretentious rambling, and
realising that the hour was drawing late, the party decided to extract him and
return to SIldar Halwinter with their captive. They carefully retraced their
steps, avoiding any remaining enemies in the manor basement, and emerged back
into the forest to the south of the manor.
They delivered Iarno Albrek to Sildar at the townmaster’s
hall, with the Lord’s Alliance agent being more than a little surprised that
his colleague had been the one causing the trouble in the town. He locked Albrek
in a jail cell in the cellar of the hall and suggested the adventurers get some
rest.
“We can interrogate him more tomorrow if need be, but
ultimately he will be taken to Neverwinter to answer for his crimes,” he
assured them. “But our main concern now is to end the threat to the town once
and for all, and like with a den of rats I imagine another of those bandits
will simply rise to fill the void of power with their leader gone. But if we
deal with them before the break of dawn, we might be able to surprise them
before they realise Iarno is gone. Get some rest now and let’s reconvene early
in the morning.”
With that, the adventurers returned to the tavern for a
quick rest, satisfied with their night’s work.
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