Greensboro Tyranny of Dragons 07/11/2015
Epilogue from the Nentir Vale Campaign
Prince Drisdhaun Deathshadow, Paladin of Avandra and Wielder of the Holy Avenger, mans the wheel aboard Dumas’s sky ship. His father, King Drakmhar the Unbagged, looks out from the stern bidding the Nentir Vale a farewell. Drisdhaun’s newly beloved bride, Shala, stands beside him looking down at the majestic trees of Harkenwold. Soon they will reach the Lands Down South where Nera, the ancient capitol city of the Nerath Empire, awaits. He ponders the strategies needed to oust the Iron Circle from the takeover of Nera. His father probably already has something figured out. Maybe the Skullbreakers will help out now that the Demi-Lich Acererak’s schemes for godhood has been thwarted. They mentioned it before. Of course, he knows if things get harry, then he can call upon the Silver Cloaks. He will also need to free his sister from the slave ring under Saruun-Khel. Mabye the K’Lora siblings can help with that. Now that he has found his ‘lost time’ and is free of his life debt to the Swiftwater Clan, Drisdhaun basks in the realization of finally being able to look ahead.
Noble Elysienne K’Lora, Troubador and Lady Marksman from the Feywild and Wielder of Deadly Crossbows, brushes her hair back with one hand while tapping her chin with the other. She walks this way and that way on the streets of Hammerfast, going in no partcilar direction. She thinks about the future. Being a hero of the Nentir Vale and a Silver Cloak are just two of many accomplishments she will have in her long life (as compared to the other races). What’s next? Return home to House K’Lora and stand against the elders? Return to Fallcrest where she’ll have the Tower of Waiting all to herself? Fallcrest needs a lot of reconstruction. Return to Nera to help out Drisdhaun with the Iron Circle? Or buy Drisdhaun’s sister to save her from the clutches of slavery in the Underdark? Eh, would be more of a challenge to just sneak in there and free her without notice. Not to mention that the Swiftwater Clan has offered her future contract work. One thing is for certain: she now leads her brother, Sir Berrian K’Lora and his knights; not the other way around. Just like Jixin the Philosophical Doppleganger, Elyesienne will have many roles to play.
Werebear Helja Goldspinner, High Priest of Moradin and Wielder of Moradin’s Universal Apparatus (not to mention his personalized-hammer and personalized-axe), sits at a café in the Temple District of Hammerfast, enjoying a stout ale with his friend and rival, Baldreg the High Priest of Gruumsh. Both continue to lead and honor the pact where dwarves and orcs and ghosts and everyone else should live here in peace and harmony. He wonders if Baldreg runs into similar problems when it comes to the role of spiritual advisor for the orcs. It was not long ago when the Temple of Moradin fell apart. Traevus turned necromancer and follower of Kalarel, together chasing the Skulls of Power. Kurik turned worshipper of Tiamat and joined the Rival Heroes. Krond turned bigot here in the city and tired to start a civil war. At least he was able to save the later two. Now both serve the temple once again. And so does Helja. Part time, anyway. Other times he needs to run with the bears. Up and over the snow-capped mountains and weaving through the blanketed-pines. It is even more invigorating now that he and the rest of the werebears are free from Queen Stravalla’s service. His mom and brother are now ‘back to busy’, administering the affairs of the city. The temple forge burns brightly, chasing out the taint of Piranoth the World Mover. He sees his good friend and mentee, Kriv, enjoying a tea several tables away. Kriv sits with his mother where both tower over four halflings who also sit at the table. He wonders how the new Temple of the Raven Queen will pan out and what influence the Swiftwater Clan will have on the city council. Probably not too much. Hammerfast remains a fiercely independent city.
Kriv of the Swiftwater Clan, Paladin of the Raven Queen and Wielder of the Blessed Great Axe, sits with his mother in the Temple District of Hammerfast, enjoying tea outside a café. Having reunited after so much family turmoil brings peace to him. He silently thanks the late Sir Oakley, Paladin of Bahamut, for bringing her to him. However, every once in a while a passerby gives a wide berth mistaking him for his evil deceased brother, Khar. There also sits his foster parents from Fallcrest and the leaders of the Swiftwater Clan: Obmar, ever so quiet, and Babs, ever so vocal. The latter two collaborated with the Silver Cloaks to free the Nentir Vale from the elemental and giant forces of Piranoth the World Mover. Not far away construction begins on the Temple of the Raven Queen. The awakened altar from Winterhaven will arrive soon. Already a flock has gathered, including the Raven Princess (who will serve as the High Priestess) to help with the construction and the preparation and the services. Communion with the Raven Queen is a mysterious, philosophical thing. At least the goddess is finally free of the Demi-Lich Acererak and Orcus, the Demon Prince of Undead. Nonetheless, toying with death and un-death is a serious thing. Souls, too. Kriv continues to wrestle with his newfound faith.
First Guardian Wil Fawkes of the Silver Cloaks, Head Practitioner of the Nentir Vale and Wielder of Many Rods, leans back in his chair and puts his feet on his desk. He looks out from the tallest window of the First Guardian’s Tower and his eyes take in the vista of the grand courtyard of Argent where the lion-like humanoids, the torrians, continue to toil around the grand castle proper in order to bring things back to splendor. Wil’s come along way since surviving the streets of Nera as a boy, leaving his vast extended family behind. Wow, he thinks, his servant mother is now married to King Drakmhar the Unbagged! Lately, he resists the temptation of drawing power from the Far Realm, thus reducing the denizen visits to nil. He reads. He studies. So un-warlock! Yet he knows that chaos and evil may return. He’ll have no choice but to taste that ichor again. Like that paladin guard captain at Gardmore Abbey who drew from the Deck of Many Things in desperation to defend the gates from the orc armies of the Bloodspear. Or the minotaur, Dumas the Shaman-Warlock, who summoned evil to best evil in Saruun Khel in hopes of saving his family, culture, and people. Or the human, Obanar the former First Guardian, who magically prolonged his life to recruit and guide heroes to thwart Piranoth the World Mover. The lure is always there. Wil leans forward and plants his feet and slides a desk drawer. There lays the Deck of Many Things. It calls out to him. Another temptation.