1.7.1 Rethra kael
The heroes endure a single, brutal, layered encounter: an endless demonic and Blood Elf assault upon the council chambers in Upper Hammerfall. Timed events fracture the battlefield, trusted figures fall, secrets are revealed, and the city survives only by enduring until dawn.
Opening Monologue¶
_Your cheek still throbs from the strike. His rage flows as quickly as the wine of late. Your father. Though you cannot see why mother would have chosen this hateful man. The throbs of sadness and worry come again in a rush as you think of her being dragged off screaming by these beasts. You remember it vividly. Can't forget it even, its there every time your eyes close. Hearing but not seeing. Mother had hurried you to a trapdoor under the false floor of their lodgings in Hammerfall. There had not been time to fetch the guards when they had come. And where was Ivar the Terrible while they snatched her. Your father. Whoring or drinking or both you supposed. Your father. Seated now he was atop that lofty pedestal. He said the council chairs were uncomfortable. Said they were built for lither men, not warriors. Harald thinks that was once true. Now, he simply does not fit in them anymore. Ivar the Terrible. That was his name once. A terror of shield walls and shield breaks. Now he sways as he sits, shuffling from buttcheek to buttcheek uncomfortably. The smell of ale clings to him even from here where you sit among the stairs, beneath this elven chambers. His eyes are heavy. His belly rests against his belt. His hands shake when he reaches for his cup. Your father.
Nearly falling from his seat, he laughs — loud, ugly, and hollow.
You watch the Speaker finally taking his place. He talks of long made plans and horrible things. You hear something of demons and someone called Hannah. For a moment you forget bout everything else as fear grips you and his terrible voice washes over you.
"She fed us at her blood altar you hear him say. Told us to drink if we wanted to see the world made right. I did. The pain was holy and beautiful. My skin burned, split, and healed stronger. My heart stopped for a moment—and when it beat again, I could hear him. The voice in the deep. Now, centuries have turned, and still we serve. Her blood flows through us. Her will drives us. And soon Hannah the Forsaken will rise again. Now that a new host has been found. You see him pointedly stare. At your father... Now we have all we need."
Things move quickly then as people draw weapons and the doors to the chambers are pushed open by clawed hands.. creatures some crawling on all fours like insects others festering and swollen with blotched bodies. Their elven features still visible despite horrific alterations. These creatures. Your fingers grip the hilt of your blade. Given to you by Your Father. You will make these creatures pay for taking mother.
Scene 1¶
The First Breach¶
The council chamber erupts into chaos as doors burst open, windows shatter, and Blood Elves flood in like a living tide. Screams echo across stone as steel is drawn and torches topple, casting wild shadows across rune-carved walls.
Session Notes¶
Horde of Blood Elves with Blood Painter's. All the factions fought their own mini battles. Humans in trouble, Ivar not the fighter he once was he is wounded in the fighting and calls out for aid. Balder despite his hatred of the man leads the party to their assistance. Finally with a mighty blow from Gunnar the beast is slain but Ivar lies wounded on his back, bleeding from a wound from the stomach drenched in his own piss. With the fiend dealt with, Balder strides towards Ivar and puts his blade to his throat.
"I should put you down for everything you've done" - Balder Ivar begs for his life "But I am not a strong enough man. I won't hold you guilty for my own weakness." Balder turns away as Ivar fearfully gets to his feet. The sound of metal ringing and it being cleared of its scabbard. Before a blade emerges from the middle of Ivar's chest. Strong and forceful it is pulled out with precision, an expert finishing strike. Ivar clutches at his chest and falls to the ground dead. Behind him, Harald wipes his blade on his trousers. "You', his voice trembles. "Are NOT my father" his voice firms, and his gaze and hatred turns quickly towards the Speaker.