Wrath of the Righteous

Hosilla's Note
Raze the Cult Safehouses


You will remain, for the time being, in Kenebres, but know this; the city's days are numbered. Seek a place of safety – the underground den of your mongrel lackeys should suffice to keep you safe from the devastation to come. I shall assume command of Drezen shortly, and once Vorlesh has finished with the wardstone and Kenebres is no longer of interest to us, you are to return to my side.

Excellent news regarding the salvage of Yaniel's Sword from the museum as well – bring it with you, for I believe this weapon could be quite useful once we corrupt it. Before you leave for Drezen, stop by the three safe houses (Nyserian Manor, Topaz Solutions and the Tower of Estrod – the passphrase remains "I've new material for the archives," for now.) to ensure no evidence remains behind. May Lord Deskari and Lord Baphomet watch over you!


Below the Fall of Kenabres
The Unforeseen Uplanders

The three humanoids crept along quietly through the darkened tunnels. The one with a single horn raised his hand in a gesture to halt further movement. The two trailing him, a female so disfigured she could only hoot to communicate and the other sporting serpentine features, stopped. They waited and sniffed the air. The serpentine male stuck his tongue out as if tasting the air, flicking it several times.

The leader pointed to Crel, the snake featured male, and directed him to explore a small tunnel. Lann and Dyra would wait for his exploration to be complete before they moved on. Crel moved into the tunnel and again tasted the air with his tongue. He tilted his head from side to side as if doglike. Turned to Lann, the leader, and his eyes got wide in panic. 

Suddenly the caverns began to shake violently. The ceiling was dropping small stones on them. Lann instinctively shoved Dyra to the ground and he covered her up with his body. The tremors increased their intensity and small stones became large rocks. Should one strike Lann that would be his end.

With his charge hooting nervously, Lann didn't move and used his weight to insure Dyra didn't move either. She wiggled trying to get to free from Lann's protection and to a safer place. Lann shouted into her ear just above the rumble from the earthquake to stay still. Eventually she stopped moving.

The cave was filled with the dust from recent cave in. Lann felt for Dyra and tapped her shoulder. Her movement told him she still lived. Luck be told neither was struck by a falling rock. Once the dust settled the search for Crel would begin. 

It was Dyra that found Crel's location. He was buried underneath a pile of rubble and resting on top of the pile was a boulder capable of crushing the hapless mongrelman. Crel had trouble breathing and his time was limited. There was not enough time to send one of them back to Neathholm for help. Time was running out for Crel…

It was at that time the Five had appeared. Hoping they meant no harm Lann said, "If your intentions are ill, we ask you to move on and leave us in peace. If they are good, then perhaps you can help. As you can see, misfortune has befallen us."

Dellak took some measurements and determined the best way to roll the boulder off the pile and save Crel. It took all of the Five's strength but they managed to roll the boulder off without hurting Crel further. 

Lann then decided to take the Five to Neathholm and meet his Chief Sull. 

The Fall of Kenabres
The decapitation of the Guardian

Long had the city of Kenabres been protected from the nearby Worldwound by Terendelev, the mighty silver dragon. She had mainly left the governing of the city to the humans. When it came to defending the city she was always nearby. In fact, once before, the great Terendelev had fought off the Storm King when he attempted to destroy the wardstone with his vorpal blade. 

On this day of Armasse, Terendelev was in her human form. She was mingling in with the large number of revelers, crusaders, citizens of Kenabres. Upon noticing five humanoids she peered into their very souls. She liked what she saw, well maybe one was questionable. Nevertheless, these five had something indescribable about them. She would need to look deeper into them. 

Suddenly Lord Hulrun opened the great doors to the Cathedral of St Clydwell and walked slowly out to the podium. Shappock Hulrun had a way of controlling a crowd such as what now filled the beautiful Clydwell Plaza with the smallest of gestures or gazes. Slowly he made his way to the front steps. He cleared his voice and…

His shadow was cast on the door behind him but the noon sun was high in the sky. The impossibility of the shadow seemed strange to Terendelev. If he was casting a shadow on the west facing door of the Cathedral of St. Clydwell something was amiss in the Worldwound. She quickly turned to look west and saw the Kite was engulfed in Abyssal energy. Energy created by none other than Khorramzadeh, himself. 

The Storm King was flying above the Kite after having teleported into the warded city of Kenabres. He destroyed the Kite with a pillar of evil energy and probably the wardstone as well. Terendelev jumped into the air not wasting any time and started to shape shift into her true form, that of a huge silver dragon. She had to be airborne far enough so as not to hurt any of the good citizens of Kenabres. Once she was far enough away she flapped her wings and took to the sky hoping to draw the Storm King away from the huge crowd. She roared out a challenge to the Storm King.

Upon reaching her desired altitude she circled around and then descended upon the vorpal sword wielding balor lord. During her descent she noticed several things. There was a planar gate on the northwestern side of Clydwell Plaza and through it poured denizens of the Abyss. As the brave crusaders turned to face the abyssal horde many of them were being felled by humanoids wielding scythes and glaives. Khorramzadeh was performing some sort of ritual no doubt to create a permanent gate through the warded area. The group of five were holding their own versus some minor demons. For the tiniest of seconds she had wondered why she had noticed them. Certainly the Storm King was the only threat she need concern herself with. 

As she descended upon the Storm King she spared another split second to insure the five were safe. Why had she done that? She opened her mouth wide and readied her claws to rip the Balor lord apart once and for all. It was to the point of no return when she realized it had all been a trap, carefully laid out by Khorramzadeh. She plunged down and couldn't adjust to the Balor lord's swiftness. He lashed her with the flaming whip and grabbed her by the neck and mounted her back while he held onto her neck. With his vorpal sword he slashed her several times in the neck. Chopping deeper with each swing. 

The Storm King had won. Her life force was leaving her body. She looked over and saw an Ulkreth slamming its four fists into the ground causing the entire plaza directly in front of the Cathedral to collapse. It would have been easy to pass into the next world and visit Iomedae. Just let go. She knew she had one more thing to do before the Storm King's blade finished its job. She cast Feather Fall upon the five fighting the demonic horde as they fell into the darkness. With a nod and the briefest of gestures she followed that up with a quickened healing spell. That was the final act of the guardian of Kenabres as the Storm King's blade struck true once again, cleaving the great wyrm's head off its body.



Armasse is Finally Here!
The Beginning of the End

The raucous, week-long festival known as Armasse is held each year at the end of summer. This celebration dedicated to the god Aroden is still important to the faithful of Iomedae, whi use it to train commoners in combat, ordain apprentice clergy, pick squires for knights, and tech military history, hoping to prevent the mistakes of the past from being repeated. Over time, Armasse has grown to encompass jousting competitions, mock duels, battle reenactments, and other festival events.

Among those not dedicated to the Last Azlanti the holiday has lost most of its religious significance since Aroden's death, tending now only toward wild partying, a fact that has precluded the diabolist authorities of Cheliax from prohibiting Armasse outright.


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