Dragongold and Distrust

(Vorsand, 11th November, 1600)

Blinking, the companions looked around. To the west, beyond the massive corpse, they could see more and more daylight as the collapse of the far end of the Palace continued. Occasionally, house-sized slabs would crash into the golden heaps of treasure. From behind them, the sound of shouts and running feet announced that some, at least, had heard the fearsome racket of the short battle.

As they turned to see, Hildraft noticed a strange taste in his mnouth. Spitting to clear it, he realized that, while the others were all stained with the dark blood so liberally shed by the Dragon, he, having been directly underneath when the fatal blow was struck, was covered in the stuff. He was feeling almost beatific at this point, the approval and favour of his God washing over him in honour of his deed, and he paid it no mind.

Through the cloister arches and into the palace came around a dozen armoured figures at a run. A glance was enough to identify them as Kin; but a second glance revealed something very strange.

Every Kin they'd encountered so far had been in some way different from the others. The genetic dice for Kin seemed wildly unstable to say the least. But these - there were fifteen of them - were all very similar. Their reptilian eyes widened as they took in the slain form of Varkar Barduric. Then they moved.

Six of them took on thoughtful expressions, and melted quickly back out into the shadows. The remaining nine stood their ground until one flourished his weapon in the air and shouted "Revenge!"

The others all hefted their arms and moved to attack the companions. Each was equipped with a strange double-ended-two-bladed sword, and the adventurers realized that they were confronting the Kin Scales, the elite "bodyguard" of Varkar himself.

Surya, Kobort and Hildraft leaped to meet them, Kobort entangling one in a Web as he came. A short, nasty fight ensued, wherein Hildraft took a head wound which would have killed him were it not for the enhancement magics still operating. For a short while, as he fought with the Dyvka, Kobort felt he was somehow moving faster than he had been; everyone else in slow motion. The Scales died, all but one, who the adventurers kept to interrogate.

While Kobort grilled the half-dragon about the whereabouts of Varkar's famed stores of magical weapons - which it occurred to Hildraft must be elsehere as nothing they'd seen so far matched his vision - Surya and Doronond Elvenking began talking.

The High King of the Eldar was waxing almost lyrical about what could be achieved with the riches in the Palace. He painted glorious pictures of rebuilding the lost nations of the North, planning how the Elves could help in the reconstruction and...

Surya stopped him. Coldly, the Tellaran told the Elvenking that he regarded the treasure, the palace, and the city of Vorsand, as something he - and his comrades - had won, not something for the Elves to grandly hand out here and there as they chose. The King laughed, a little uncertainly. "You couldn't carry a seventh share of this out of here if you worked the rest of your life!" he protested, "and you could never spend it. Surely you see that it represents the lifeblood of the lost lands - the human lands - the Dragon has conquered, and the chance to restore them, to rebuild them?"

"If you want to take and hold this city, that would be very good," he continued. "To have a strong base to the north while we clear out the remaining Dragonarmies would be a good thing."

Surya glared at him for a moment. Then he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving the King unsure what was happening. He shrugged, and called after the retreating human, "I will return with the Elvenhost to clear out the remaining Dragontroops here. If the gates can be open, so much the better." He, Eladriel and Thraldor left, heading back west to the army waiting at the border.

Having gleaned from his prisoner the most likely route to Varkar's weapon vault, Kobort gathered the others and plunged into the dark corridors of the inner palace. It was a nerve-wracking place, every so often the walls would shake, and dust and rubble sift down from the ceiling. As they got closer, however, the structure became stabler.

Finally, at the top of a flight of stairs, they found themselves facing a massive set of metal doors. Magic radiated from the locks, and Surya's very careful probes with his tools revealed the high probability of traps.

Hildraft, gazing up at the wall, realized that the strange, angular markings around the arch were letters in a script. Startling his companions, he read them off in a quiet voice. "The Weaponvault of Varkar Barduric, Lord of Lords. Death take those who enter against my will."

The others looked at him oddly, but he was already on a different tack. His standing with Kord was so much improved, and he felt he could call on some of the higher powers the God sometimes granted his followers. Muttering a prayer, he shifted himself onto the Ethereal Plane. In this state, of course, the massive metal doors were no obstacle, and he passed through them like smoke.

Inside, he found the racks he had seen in his vision when Mergil was found. Three walls of the room he was in were lined with display cases, packed with weapons of all sorts and sizes; swords, axes, bows, all sorts. The dwarf's arcane senses discerned a strong enchantment radiating from every one. His priestly senses detected a powerful taint of evil from the items grouped in one corner. And on one rack, he recogised a short blade, clearly the partner of the one Kobort carried - the Anakha.

The room itself was massively buttressed and constructed. The dwarf knew, after a single glance, that even if the main palace fell, this place would remain intact. He also observed that strong steel wires were laced back and forth across the room; a trap to deter teleportation.

Returning to the others, he resumed his normal form and they took stock. There had to be a key, and only one person was likely to have it. They went back to the main chamber, and Kobort, straining his wand's shapechange magic to the limit, transformed the Dragon's body to something considerably smaller. Then the three set to searching.

As they searched, Hildraft noticed something rather unsettling. Mixed in among the vast treasure were many scrolls and books; all the coins had writing of one sort or another on; many of the lesser weapons were engraved. And he could read it all. Even where the markings were such that he would yesterday have been unsure that they were even writing at all, he could read them easily. It was worrying.

Although they searched for a specific thing, each of the companions would from time to time stop, and sigh, and run rivers of good red gold through his fingers, or strum a silver harp gently, or test the heft of a mighty sword, or shake a string of diamonds and watch them shimmer. The siren song of that mighty hoard was upon them, whether they admitted it or not. Of them all, Kobort was the least affected; the lust for the Anakha drove him on.

Finally, where the Dragon had lain, they found a chest. Made of beautifully inlaid woods, it was actually a tall, thin chest, for though it protruded through the top of the golden heap, it was standing on the stone floor of the chamber.

It was not locked, and its' lid lifted easily to reveal a small, oddly shaped key. Reaching in without hesitation, Kobort picked it up. As he did so, a jolt ran right through his body, a short, sharp, but by no means painful shock, a shimmering feeling of change that permeated to his fingertips - and then was gone.

His heart sinking, he paused and waited, then got Hildraft to scan his magical aura, but there seemed to be no change. Surya, however, was deeply worried; both his friends were changing before his eyes since they'd secured the hoard. Was Hildraft turning into something? A dragon perhaps? Was Kobort cursed, would he doom them all?

As the sorcerer held the key, Hildraft noticed tiny scratches along its' length. He realized these were words; "Wrong way in" they said, and that was all. Returning to the vault doors, the adventurers gingerly inserted the key by what looked like the "handle" end. It moved the rest of the way in by itself, and the doors opened. Inside, the web-work of wires unraveled themselves, leaving the room open.

But no-one dared go in. What had happened to Kobort had unnerved them. Belatedly remembering his spells, Kobort used a Mage Hand to retrieve the Anakha, and to complete his dream of the matched set. Then the three set to work and transported as much gold and treasure up to the Vault as they could, before closing the doors and taking the Key that emerged as they did so.

Then the three left the vault, and returned to the Palace, from where they could already hear the fighting from outside as the Dragon's city erupted into factional warfare as each surviving Kin gathered support to him and prepared to carve out his own kingdom; the Age of the Warlords had come.


What will happen next?

Some, or all of these questions may be answered one day in a future Alair campaign...