11.04.2005
Home
Cinder, the white swords look similar, and the smith rejects them. The smith will enchant your dagger though. The construct intones again, asking for a weapon; looks like it has enough juice left for one more try. (You can try once more, or leave it be... we'll retroactively update as necessary when I return.)
Perhaps there are other things you wish to accomplish here, in which case we will also retroactively modify the chronology. However, your work here is essentially done for now. You have no way to open the final door, and besides, the Oracle has warned you that you'd better hurry back to your world.
You bid him goodbye, and maybe thanks, and enter the glass cottage next door. Applying the oil to the mirror, the pane of glass shimmers and ripples. You step through, preparing yourselves for a fight if Vrill has remained in his basement; if, indeed, that is where you will be returning.
...
It is. You seem to have blacked out again, and when you come to, you realize that you're in what appears to be the same stone cellar in which you found Gregory Vrill. You snap to attention, draw weapons, and look around.
There is nothing. It is silent. Strangely enough, everything seems to have been removed from this place, and there are signs of disuse here. Your light is provided from the light coin. It is cold. The thought occurs that perhaps you're not back in Greyhelm at all- merely a facsimile of the place, but with all the trappings of the strange mirror world you just left.
Tentatively, you explore. You leave the cellar, and return to the warehouse above. There is a growing sense that something has gone tragically wrong. It is dark, quiet, and colder above.
Pushing the front door open reveals daylight, thankfully. Your prayers of thanks catch in your throat as you look around and survey the destruction around you. Greyhelm has been destroyed.
It looks like a warzone. Buildings have been demolished, and lay in ruins. Char and rubble fills the streets. Even worse, this seems to have happened some time ago. Snow and ice cover the remains of buildings. There is no life here, neither human nor animal.
It is Greyhelm, destroyed, in the winter. You step out into the street and begin to move through the city. The entire dock section has been laid to waste, and Greyhelm Lake is also covered with a blanket of ice and snow. The rest of the city, also, is ruined.
Then you hear something. Something metallic and awful, an oddly familiar sound. You hide in the remains of what was once an inn, and peer out through a broken window at what is coming down the street.
It's the armored warrior, from the junklands. A short knight in full plate. He's carrying the same weapon as before; you can even make out the same script on the helm. You quietly discuss whether or not to attack him, when you hear more sounds. More warriors. What looks like a patrol of six moving through the city street, carrying large pieces of metal. They wield a complement of different weapons... some chainswords, others just elaborate metal crossbows, one enormous bladed staff. All wearing identical armor, moving faster than the injured warrior you defeated, but all with the same purposeful, mechanical precision.
They pass on; you are undetected. Conferring, you decide to head quickly back to Grito, to make sure your friends are alright, and hopefully to find out what in the hell has happened here.
Moving through the city requires stealth and speed. You find many more patrols of these strange warriors, all the same except for the weapons they carry and the jobs they are doing. Cinder and Marivhon work to scout safe trails, and a Silence spell or two helps. There are no animals to Speak With. As you head towards the gates, you see that Castle Greyhelm largely is destroyed, with the exception of the legendary haunted Black Tower, standing intact, a tattered flag limply hanging from the top. Just before the great keep, however, is an enormous metal tower, several stories tall, misshapen and made from all manner of metal implements. It is currently under construction by these invaders. A few dozen warriors work to build it.
It is dawn by the time you finally escape. You move for several more hours away from town, witnessing that the outlying villages and farms surrounding Greyhelm are abandoned. Again, it is strange- the desertion and destruction of Greyhelm seems to have happened some time ago. And it certainly wasn't winter when you first left.
You rest for a few hours, keeping careful watch, before resuming your trek towards Grito. Finally, you arrive, and discover what happened to the citizens of Greyhelm.
Grito is surrounded by a huge tent city of refugees. The despair and poverty is depressing. Hundreds or thousands of people from Greyhelm have come here. One other odd thing you notice as you come into the city is the Tower of Illusion. It's completed. And it's insanely, impossibly high, stretching up into the clouds. How much time has passed?
You rush through the village towards Shady Orchards. At least the farm seems intact. Although, there are a couple odd- no, downright horribly bizarre changes since you were last here.
No zombies roam or til the snowy fields. Rather, you see ten or twenty furry border collies playing outside.
Even worse, you hear a familiar voice behind you. It's- it's Marivhon's voice. You turn to see Marivhon, another Marivhon, talking to a younger man who don't recognize, saying "Well, Burghermeister Vrill will be happy to hear about that. Good ol' Greggy, it's about time those owlbears came out right. He..." You stare in utter surprise, and Marivhon, walking down the street, sees you. His eyes widen in sheer terror- of meeting himself, perhaps- and he breaks into a full-on monk-style sprint past you, towards the front gate of the farm.
Welcome home. (We now take a two week intermission.)
Perhaps there are other things you wish to accomplish here, in which case we will also retroactively modify the chronology. However, your work here is essentially done for now. You have no way to open the final door, and besides, the Oracle has warned you that you'd better hurry back to your world.
You bid him goodbye, and maybe thanks, and enter the glass cottage next door. Applying the oil to the mirror, the pane of glass shimmers and ripples. You step through, preparing yourselves for a fight if Vrill has remained in his basement; if, indeed, that is where you will be returning.
...
It is. You seem to have blacked out again, and when you come to, you realize that you're in what appears to be the same stone cellar in which you found Gregory Vrill. You snap to attention, draw weapons, and look around.
There is nothing. It is silent. Strangely enough, everything seems to have been removed from this place, and there are signs of disuse here. Your light is provided from the light coin. It is cold. The thought occurs that perhaps you're not back in Greyhelm at all- merely a facsimile of the place, but with all the trappings of the strange mirror world you just left.
Tentatively, you explore. You leave the cellar, and return to the warehouse above. There is a growing sense that something has gone tragically wrong. It is dark, quiet, and colder above.
Pushing the front door open reveals daylight, thankfully. Your prayers of thanks catch in your throat as you look around and survey the destruction around you. Greyhelm has been destroyed.
It looks like a warzone. Buildings have been demolished, and lay in ruins. Char and rubble fills the streets. Even worse, this seems to have happened some time ago. Snow and ice cover the remains of buildings. There is no life here, neither human nor animal.
It is Greyhelm, destroyed, in the winter. You step out into the street and begin to move through the city. The entire dock section has been laid to waste, and Greyhelm Lake is also covered with a blanket of ice and snow. The rest of the city, also, is ruined.
Then you hear something. Something metallic and awful, an oddly familiar sound. You hide in the remains of what was once an inn, and peer out through a broken window at what is coming down the street.
It's the armored warrior, from the junklands. A short knight in full plate. He's carrying the same weapon as before; you can even make out the same script on the helm. You quietly discuss whether or not to attack him, when you hear more sounds. More warriors. What looks like a patrol of six moving through the city street, carrying large pieces of metal. They wield a complement of different weapons... some chainswords, others just elaborate metal crossbows, one enormous bladed staff. All wearing identical armor, moving faster than the injured warrior you defeated, but all with the same purposeful, mechanical precision.
They pass on; you are undetected. Conferring, you decide to head quickly back to Grito, to make sure your friends are alright, and hopefully to find out what in the hell has happened here.
Moving through the city requires stealth and speed. You find many more patrols of these strange warriors, all the same except for the weapons they carry and the jobs they are doing. Cinder and Marivhon work to scout safe trails, and a Silence spell or two helps. There are no animals to Speak With. As you head towards the gates, you see that Castle Greyhelm largely is destroyed, with the exception of the legendary haunted Black Tower, standing intact, a tattered flag limply hanging from the top. Just before the great keep, however, is an enormous metal tower, several stories tall, misshapen and made from all manner of metal implements. It is currently under construction by these invaders. A few dozen warriors work to build it.
It is dawn by the time you finally escape. You move for several more hours away from town, witnessing that the outlying villages and farms surrounding Greyhelm are abandoned. Again, it is strange- the desertion and destruction of Greyhelm seems to have happened some time ago. And it certainly wasn't winter when you first left.
You rest for a few hours, keeping careful watch, before resuming your trek towards Grito. Finally, you arrive, and discover what happened to the citizens of Greyhelm.
Grito is surrounded by a huge tent city of refugees. The despair and poverty is depressing. Hundreds or thousands of people from Greyhelm have come here. One other odd thing you notice as you come into the city is the Tower of Illusion. It's completed. And it's insanely, impossibly high, stretching up into the clouds. How much time has passed?
You rush through the village towards Shady Orchards. At least the farm seems intact. Although, there are a couple odd- no, downright horribly bizarre changes since you were last here.
No zombies roam or til the snowy fields. Rather, you see ten or twenty furry border collies playing outside.
Even worse, you hear a familiar voice behind you. It's- it's Marivhon's voice. You turn to see Marivhon, another Marivhon, talking to a younger man who don't recognize, saying "Well, Burghermeister Vrill will be happy to hear about that. Good ol' Greggy, it's about time those owlbears came out right. He..." You stare in utter surprise, and Marivhon, walking down the street, sees you. His eyes widen in sheer terror- of meeting himself, perhaps- and he breaks into a full-on monk-style sprint past you, towards the front gate of the farm.
Welcome home. (We now take a two week intermission.)
