The Garden of Delights

Eralevia's Lair, Ruins of Amberlan, Tarlanor, June 9th 1655, morning

The party was battered and weary, and magic was running low, so they elected to rest overnight in the 'throne room's double - which still had a door - to regain their strength.

They took it in turn to stand watch, and it was while Lynien was leaning quietly against a wall in the deeps of the night that the sound came. Faint almost beyond hearing, and yet conveying an impression of immense volume at a great distance; one impact, and then another, and then silence. She pondered this, and told the others when they awoke. The most likely cause seemed to be the dragon, but what he was doing to make enough noise to be audible down here they couldn't imagine.

Refreshed, the party made ready to move on. Méabh remembered this time to cast her protective magics, and added a Greater Mage Armour for each of her companions. Then they returned to the rot room, to consider the problem of the secret door below the slime.

The horrible stuff seemed to have receded slightly, and was drier-looking. Eloy used Bereloth to confirm the location of the entrance. The sword's empathic responses seemed gleeful, almost giddy; after so long failing to find secret doors for him, finally it had! Méabh carefully poured one of their last flasks of oil over the slime covering the secret door and ignited it. It burned smokily for a few minutes, and left a scorched and dead-looking area. With scrapers made of various rubble, they cleared it away to reveal a circular stone plug hatch around three feet across. A stone ring set into the top seemed intended to pull it up with, and Gorfang braced himself and heaved. At first the thing didn't move; it was very tightly set into the floor. He brought his strength to bear, massive muscles bulging and shifting under his green skin. With a grinding noise the plug - slightly tapered for a firm fit - came up and he set it to one side. From below, warm amber light shone, illuminating the orc as he straddled the hole. If it hadn't been impossible, he'd have said it looked like sunlight...

Eloy, kneeling closest to the hole, tipped his head... he'd heard a sound from below. He listened carefully, and a bewildered expression crossed his face as, for a moment, he wondered if he'd gone quietly insane. He could hear birdsong.

Peering down the hole, as their eyes adjusted to the unexpected light, they could see a stone shaft descending twenty feet or so, then perhaps the same distance of space before ... grass? bushes? Dappled sunlight in slightly-moving patterns as it would be from passing through trees? a glimpse of a rabbit lolloping off out of sight? ... They looked at each other, puzzled and suspicious. Gorfang stepped off to retrieve a slab of gravestone to drop into the hole, while Méabh began to cast a True Seeing. As the orc reached the hole with the heavy stone, the rush of blood to his head from the weight boosted his perception just a bit and the illusion collapsed - for him - and he saw what was really there.

He and Méabh could now see ... grey, dead grass, dry, crumbling bushes and twisted, gangrel trees illuminated by an eldritch were-light. The shadow patterns were the same but the light was the unclean phosphorescence of the tomb. Gorfang shrugged and dropped his block. It plunged down the hole to crash into the undead grass below, raising a cloud of grey dust and flying fragments of ash. Lynien and Eloy saw it differently; the block thudded softly into rich green grass, dinting the rich loam below and flattening a few daisies. A vole dashed for cover. The other two explained what they'd seen, and Lynien and Eloy strained to see through the glamour without success.

Méabh cast another Stone Shape and wove the rock of the shaft to form steps and handholds down its length, then an extrusion below it to form a rough ladder to the ground below. Then she cast an Arcane Eye to scout ahead.

The flying eyeball soared down the shaft and out at the bottom, into a bewildering place indeed. The spell of True Seeing Méabh had cast on herself meant that she could see both views; the illusion with the reality underlying it superimposed. So, she saw sunlight, singing birds, cute bunnies, elegant trees, cool pools, buses of fruit... and ashen grass, slow-coiling undead trees suffering, and zombie animals lurching slowly around.

The eye flew through the forest for three hundred yards or so, and then reached the edge. A hundred feet ahead of it was the back wall of the giant room - store room, or oubliette, or grain silo perhaps originally. Against the back wall was a large stone boulder-like extrusion, sixty feet across and flat-topped. At this point the two views diverged.

Ostensibly, the boulder was appealingly carpeted in green moss and yellow stonecrop. Reclining atop it was a scantily-clad nymph of incredible yet earthy and accessible beauty, smiling invitingly. Standing next to her was a kindly-looking elven wizard, and ranged around the boulder like courtiers were a mixture of sprites, leprechauns and pixies, dressed in bright colours.

Superimposed on this was -by contrast - a scene from a nightmare. The boulder was stained with dried blood, and the figures ranged around it were wights... the larger, tougher ones from the graveyard by the look of it. The 'elven wizard' was actually a massive bugbear champion, heavily armoured and clutching a morning star. Something about him made Méabh look twice. Yes, she'd been right. He bore the unmistakable signs of vampirisim. Standing atop the rock was no nymph, but a female Fae Mhor, dressed in the robes of a priestess of Lolth with scale armour over the top and with a rapier slung at her hip. She was clearly dead - her body and face bore damage that squared quite well with the sort of wounds received when trapped in a collapsing stone tower. Despite this, she was upright, and active, clearly aware of an oncoming challenge, and a dull red light glowed in her eyes. They'd found the lich Eralevia.

Carefully, Méabh backed the eye into the cover of the trees and parked it, then described her findings to the others. Méabh cast a Tenser's Transformation on Lynien, but delayed doing the same for herself in order to remain able to cast spells a bit longer.

Slowly they crept forward. Gorfang stopped some way back, as his ability to sneak was about as great as his ability to fly, and the rest carried on to the forest's edge, where they fanned out. The agreed signal was Méabh's Fireball, and when they were all ready she released it.

The blast of flame erupted at the top of the mound, enveloping Eralevia and the bugbear in flames. The vampire dodged, leaping from the rock to the safety of the ground below, but the lich stood contemptuously still as the flames guttered and died around her.

The next moment, everything seemed to happen at once. Méabh adjusted her aim and launched another fireball, this time catching the vampire as well as two of the wights. Much of the vampire bugbear's equipment - including his weapon - was destroyed, but he rolled away out of the worst of the flames, coming to his feet next to Méabh and kicking her. On the right of the battle, Lynien pulled one of the rubies from her Necklace of Fireballs and flung it, badly toasting another slaughterwight. Suddenly, their view of the lich Eralevia was lost as a 60' sphere of magical darkness enveloped her.

Ignoring the wights charging at him, Eloy drew Varlan and fired across the front of the combat, aiming at the wights attacking Méabh. All three arrows missed, although one smacked into the vampire as it got in the way, which was better than nothing. Gorfang had started his run as Méabh launched the first Fireball, and at this moment he arrived next to her, in time to engage the vampire bugbear and allow her to get another spell off. His first blow was shattering, staggering the undead monster visibly. The orc followed up ferociously, blades hammering the undead, unbleeding flesh, and the vampire exploded into his vapourous form. Spinning on the spot, the weapon master struck one of the slaughter wights and slew that as well.

Eloy dropped his bow and drew Bereloth and his shortsword. Wading in, he exchanged blows with the slaughterwight, but discovered that it took all he could produce to make a mark on it. Next to him, Lynien was doing the same, Balacalantar and Treytas slashing slabs off her foe. Both danced through the combat, evading all harm. Surreal touch, both of them were still slaying leprechauns in bright warm sunshine as far as they could see.

From within the darkness atop the boulder the sound of casting came again, and everyone braced themselves. Nothing appeared to happen at the end though. Méabh cast another Tenser's Transformation on herself and drew Rilliantorin with a ringing scrape and hammered it into the side of one of the wights attacking Gorfang. The silver blade shimmered with relish as the undead monster screamed.

At that moment, a faint sound was heard from the vicinity of Eralevia - a sound Lynien recognized as the firing of a Fae Mhor hand crossbow, and a vast globe of darkness erupted out of the first one and rushed across the clearing. A faint chuk marked where the tiny bolt struck one of the undead trees, and utter blackness enveloped all the combatants. Even Lynien, capable of casting magical darkness as were Fae Mhor, was blinded, and from this Méabh deduced that the spell used was Deeper Darkness.

DM Note: When I looked at the init grid from the last round of combat I realized Eralevia hadn't acted in the last round of this session (R5).. she took a Delay action, then, to see what would happen before casting her next spell.

Lynien, Méabh and Eloy fought on, despite being unable to see their opponents. Each managed to wound their foes again, by pure luck if nothing else, but only the fact that the slaughterwights couldn't see them either saved them from instant death in that moment. As it was Méabh was torn by a flying claw, and stepped back, trying to disengage.

Gorfang, disregarding the wights he knew were around him somewhere, put his head down and dashed forwards between them, heading for the lich. A moment later, a slope told him he was ascending the boulder, and the sound of casting betrayed the lich's location. Lunging towards that point, he struck powerfully and was rewarded by the crunch of bone as his blades bit into the lich. Tilting his head in the dark, he tried to track her, bracing himself for her next spell...