Jaela Daran Fan Club
Khyber’s Harvest Epilogue
Congratulations for winning, guys. You all level up from the Prelude: Khyber’s Harvest. You beat the cultist bad guys and prevented some hellish ritual from taking place.
You have won reputation, as First-Tower Squad. Doria Veledaar and her family, all who are still alive, thank you, as well as the village. Subsequently, you have reputation with House Tharashk, as well. Returning to Sharn, in Breland, the Coat of Eyes manages back to Kenta, and subsequently, to your mysterious patron. The mysterious patron rewards you, by paying for gear upgrades.
- 500 GP per character
- Either a +1 Weapon Rune, or a +1 Armor Rune (Upgrades weapon or armor to +1, respectively), or an Amulet of Protection +1
Note: Residuum is not readily available
- Bardan: Level 4
- Brin of Chi’vax: Level 4
- Crowe: Level 4
- Ignatius: Level 3.5 (3+0.5)
- Novakri: Level 3 (4-1)
- Volantus: Level 3
- Yuriel: Level 3 (4-1)
Original calculations according to preset guidelines are
I’ll remind you that this is a rather hefty reward. For a job well done, this mysterious patron is sure to call on you in the future.
Seeing that the First-Tower squad is in good hands, Rhodok Twoscar is re-assigned back to Bravo Squad. With a hefty Orcish pat on Ignatius’ adamantine back, he wishes him good health. With him, as well, is the strange RESEMBLE warforged, Silver. Saying not a word, she hands Ignatius a mithril-plate rune about the size of a fist, inscribed with runes with a gemstone set in the center.
Disk of Energy Resistance +1, Magic Item Level 4 (840 GP) Item Slot: Neck; Enhancement: Fortitude, Reflex, and Will Power (Daily): Immediate Reaction. Trigger: You are hit by a fire, force, lightning, psychic, radiant, or thunder attack. Effect: You gain resist 5 against one of the attack's triggering damage types until the end of the encounter. EPG114 (You gain this instead of the normal magic item reward)
The blood of Khyber has taken its toll upon the Kalashtar named Novakri. His skin grows tight, fading into an ashen grey, and his eyes sink deep about his face, turning his once gentle visage into a caricature mask. The pupils of his eyes grow deep black, his hair a demonic red, and his grin, feral and animalistic, not detracting from his appearance, but twisting his image to suggest a dark power within. Rage and turmoil take over his mind and soul, cutting him off from his divine power source, and his heritage. Still, a part of him seeks to walk the path of shadows, even though his mind is now like stained-glass, shattered by devils. He does not despair, instead, developing his martial prowess, in the process, naturally embracing the shadows he once sought to exterminate.
Bardan, you win something cool playing cards in the local tavern. You gain an Elixir of Love. If it works, it will last for 1d3 hours and can be used on a humanoid of Medium or smaller size. You become vicious enemies with a female Miner Elf named Maria d’Kundarak, who you won the elixir from. Though many weeks have passed, you only realize on the day you nearly get your face hit with an iron hammer that, first, Maria is in the Grey Company, and second, she’s actually in the First-Tower squad.
Crowe also wins something. It’s a magic item called the Everfull mug. The command phrase is “stop looking at me, tiny penis man”. The mug can be activated up to three times per day, and will either fill with water, cheap ale, watery wine, or kool-aid, depending on what the user wishes for most. If the phrase is said wrong, you won’t know what you get until you try it. Crowe may trade this item away. The mug was originally owned by Pilatrius. He doesn’t remember where he got it, but he found activating it absolutely hilarious. Crowe isn’t sure if he lost on purpose, just to give him this item. Crowe better get Pilatrius a Winter Solstice present.
Yuriel, over the months-break, you master a wizard cantrip! You may choose to add Mage Hand, Prestidigitation, or Ghost Sound to your at-will spell list. Alice would be proud. Also, you become more acquainted with squad member Cairo.
Frena Atrum d’Phiarlan, mother of Voluntas, arrives in Sharn to speak with him, along with several members of her sisterhood, Paladins of Dol Arrah, the shining goddess of honorable combat, selflessness, and the sun. Voluntas hasn’t seen her in nearly a year, since she told him her father had died, and he left the family enclave. She does not approve of his actions, nor does she approve of the danger he placed himself in. She leaves, glaring the icy eyes of an icy queen at Kenta Darkmoon, for daring to put her son in danger.
Keeping his calm, during and after the ordeal, Kenta says to Voluntas, “You have survived in this harsh world, without your mother keeping you from danger. Your blade has tasted blood, and your instincts have not failed you. You reject your family, what most of our kind hold so sacred… If you wish to know of the things your father has done… I have one clue…” Kenta’s grimace tells you much of the story. “I will follow that clue. And you will continue to follow your fathers footsteps for now.”
“I hope your heart and blade find a just answer that keeps both… ‘free’.” Kenta’s mixing of Elven and Common are almost artistic, the word for ‘free’ meaning both “free of sin and vices” and “beautiful.” Almost as a magical compulsion, Voluntas found himself outside the door of Kenta’s office, before he was able to ask any questions… Thoughts ring in his head, hearing his father’s voice in his head, that he thought he’d long forgotten, ‘This is the path I also took… Voluntas, what is the color of your heart? What is the weight of sins upon your blade?’
Brin of the Chi’vax
Soon after the fight against Toraash, the spirits speak to you, while the Night of the plane of Mabar stays strong. You can see its form, clearer than your muddled dreams… the abyssal spines of a shadow dragon’s head, atop an elongated neck. Its eyes glow clear, a cold and silvery chilling color. The whispers are as clear as the black-blooded obsidian blades against the pink flesh floor.
Voice – “It’s been a few years, my dear, Rin’aliah…”
The voice is deep, almost booming, stirring your insides. Though you do not recognize the voice, it’s somehow familiar to you. Feet against flesh thump down the hallway ahead of you, your party moving, eager to exist the strange caverns of madness. The draconic spirit now hovers over a fallen cultist, its dark shadow form seeping upward from the orc’s lifeless eyes. Brin bows to the spirit, with well-practiced form and practice, as she was taught.
Brin – “I thank you for speaking with me personally, great dragon spirit. But why do you call me by a different name?”
Voice – “Your grasp of magic has grown weaker, ‘she who forgets’. Though I expect it to regrow quickly.”
The dragon speaks in difficult and archaic Draconic. It takes you several seconds to fully grasp the meanings.
Brin – ”’She who forgets’? If that is so, I hope to understand the full meaning of your words when the time comes.”
Voice – “I will need a vessel.”
The order comes hard and clear, taking you by surprise. The word the voice uses for vessel is vague. Is it a host to possess? A slave? A mate?
Brin – “A vessel? You may exert your will through me, if you wish.”
The dragon’s eyes shift in colors, expressing its disapproval.
Voice – “An item of power to further solidify my form.”
Gathering your thoughts, and scolding yourself for your foolishness, you react in deference.
Brin – “Oh… I apologize. My comprehension of the language isn’t as developed as I’d thought it was.”
His eyes flare. Your voice unintentionally trails off, going silent. Was apologizing the wrong choice? Why does this dragon spirit not revel in its power over a mere mortal, as you. You think for a moment, then bringing out the Khyber dragonshard that was found in the caverns.
Brin – “Will this be alright?”
The pristine dragonshard dims and cracks as soon as you offer it.
Voice – “The enthusiasm of your human nature is commendable. But I will need a relic, an old weapon instilled with power of something that is both strong and dead.”
Several minutes have passed. A nearby wall pulsates, spitting pus and slime. The walls are dying.
Voice – “You may leave, ‘soul child who forgets’… We and I shall continue to watch over you.”
Brin – “Thank you, great dragon spirit.”
You bow and leave the cavern, hurrying after your party. The spirits protect you from the dangers the flesh caverns present… And they will continue to protect you. You hold the voice’s quest close to your heart, eager to give back to your benefactors.