Session 9: "The One with All the Exposition."
(September 9)
Using Sunrise's climbing skills and Dara's climbing kit, the party easily scales the innermost wall of the Gray King's Keep and regroup in the "street" on the other side. Before they can make another move, a phalanx of duergar stone guards phase out of invisibility 40 feet away. Their commander, who has burn scars on the left side of her face and head, sealing off her left eye and leaving that half of her scalp bare, identifies herself as Janth Flintskin. She calls out to the party, "Halt. The Gray King offers a truce and a parlay. Come with us and you will come to no harm." When Ward asks if they can keep their weapons, Janth scoffs, "The Grey King doesn't fear your weapons," and the party keeps them.
Janth and her phalanx march beside the party along one of the streets that radiates outward from the Keep's central square. In the center of the square rises the Keep itself: a mighty stone column, formed from the union of a stalactite and stalagmite, some 200 feet in diameter. It stretches away into the darkness, lit here and there by small windows pierced through the stone.The column is wider at its base, which has been carved into five sets of grand stairs leading inward from the five radiating streets of the inner town. More stone guards phase out of invisibility in order to open the doors to Janth and her retinue.
Inside the column has been hollowed out into a single vast chamber, some 150 feet high. Spider strands hang from the ceiling, nearly to the ground, and the scuttle and chitter of numerous invisible steeder-spiders drifts down to the party's ears from above. No obvious way of going up into the higher levels of the Keep can be seen. In the center a slender column has been left, which rises into the darkness. At its base it has been carved into a throne.
Gralkhar Fellgren, the Gray King, sits atop the throne—a being half duergar and half construct, nearly 8 feet tall, his limbs replaced with powerful mechanical ones. His left arm steams from a nozzle where his hand should be. His gray eyes gleam with manic energy. His teeth have been replaced by metal points, and his gray scalp has a plate of steel bolted atop it. His beard is twisted into two braids that reach nearly to his heavy iron feet. An iron chain around his neck disappears under his armor.
As soon as the party enters, two stone guards appear from another door, dragging two dwarf scouts (captured from the diversionary battle at the front gates). The two captives have been roughed up; the woman's right eye is swollen shut and she is missing teeth, and the man walks with a limp. The Gray King seems to forget that the party is there, turning toward the dwarves with obvious hatred.
"What are your names?" he demands of the dwarves.
The two scouts stand up bravely, despite their injuries, and announce them: the woman is Vistra Eversharp, and the man is Forlond Ungrunn.
Gralkhar goes on a rant: "Dwarves are the falsest traitors the world has ever known," he rasps at them, loud enough for his voice to echo across the chamber. "Dwarves and their false gods abandoned the duergar to their suffering in the depths of the earth. Where was Moradin when the mind-flayers enslaved us?" Gralkhar spits in disgust. "Where was wise Berronar when our homes were invaded and our clans destroyed?" He spits again. "It was Deep Duerra who came to our aid, and gave us the power of psionics to rid Quol’ of the mind-flayers. It was Laduguer who delved down into Hell and won the legions of Asmodeus to our side. These, and these alone, are the rightful gods of dwarvenkind. All others are soft, and weak, and faithless, just like you upper dwarves, who have never known the true darkness." He stands and lurches down his throne toward the scouts, who stand bravely and don’t even flinch.
At this moment, Ward steps forward and intervenes, attempting to reason with the Gray King's unreasonable hatred. He turns away from the two dwarves and stomps toward the party, the stone under their feet shaking as he moves. He towers over Ward, but seems more amused by her than anything else. "But you, my dears, are no mere surface trash. Come. We have matters of importance to discuss." In Undercommon, he says to the guards, "Take them to the lowest cells and await my orders." Snadwick quietly translates his words for the party. Ward intervenes again, insisting that the dwarves be left with the party. His eyes hardening, the Gray King agrees, and returns to his throne to present his case to the party.
Meanwhile, Dara's detect magic invocation has permitted her to see what hangs from the end of the King's iron chain: something the size and shape of an amulet, radiating powerful conjuration magic, matching the description Sunrise was given of the artifact that was stolen from his monastery.
Gralkhar praises the party for their resourcefulness. "You thwarted nearly all of my oblex bombs. Only one has escaped you! Who knows where it might be?" (The party does, in fact, know where it is: In the capital of Rajgan, having been sent to Sashi, a bandit leader.) Gralkhar needs leaders and governors for when he rules the surface world. "My people have grown too accustomed to the darkness. We neither enjoy nor desire the sun. We need loyal, capable servants to rule our new realms for us. I offer you the surface, my dears! In return, you must serve me and only me."
Gralkhar is in an alliance with the Lich Queen Gwydieth to unite Quol' against a coming invasion of the mind-flayers, who are returning after many millennia. His oblex bombs were part of a long-term scheme to destabilize Rajgan and other mighty surface empires to make conquest easier for the Lich Queen and her undead armies. But he is blunt and forthright in telling the party his ultimate goals:
* Unite the surface and the Underdark against the invasion of the mind-flayers.
* Turn all surface peoples who are not already subjects of the Lich Queen into servants of the duergar, who by virtue of their superiority ("forged in suffering") are entitled to the servitude of the softer peoples.
* Continue to build and perfect his body until he has the power to overthrow the Lich Queen, overthrow Asmodeus himself, and take the fight to the stars, where he will exterminate every single mind-flayer in all the worlds.
What he offers the party:
* Positions as proxy governors of suitable surface realms. "You, scholar, would you not be eager to possess the Scriptorium as your very own? You, monk, would you not yearn to be the head of your monastery? You, knight, surely you would prove a fine head for your Order." Dara would be his ambassador to the fey realms, "enlisting their help" in the coming fight. Ward and Lan could have all the treasure and ships they could desire.
* Substantial shares in the riches and power of the surface.
* A life of luxury and safety, free of the harsh labor fated for the rest of the surface peoples.
In return he expects from them:
* Absolute, unquestioning loyalty to him and his conquest. No questions. Only obedience.
* Use their opening with the Golden Empress Sulana to destabilize her rule. Feed her misinformation, cause her to make tactical errors, stir up strife with Malimpel.
* Seek out and ally with certain other surface-dwellers who have joined his cause.
* Aid in conquering the surface realms when the Lich Queen makes her move.
When the charismatic bard shit-talks back to him, he grows visibly irritated, and gives them 24 hours to make their decision. He already seems bored with them.
Spider strands are extended downward, and the party (with their new dwarf scout friends) are escorted into a lift woven from spider silk, which is pulled up through a hole in a ceiling, into a guard ready-room. Janth and another guard escort them up several more floors via conventional stairs, finally showing them to a suite of rooms furnished with what, to duergar sensibilities, counts as luxury: hard, square, blocky furniture of iron and stone, draped with the skins of strange Underdark creatures.
While the party debates what to do—basically agreeing to somehow nab the amulet and get the hell out so they can live to report to Sulana—a soft but persistent knock sounds at the door. It turns out to be Sorndax Aj'jorndar, a drow elite commander in service to House Captain Nyrul O'rd. Sorndax courteously extends an invitation to come have a drink and a chat with his mistress Nyrul.
The party finds Nyrul in her own suite of chambers, seated at a table with chairs arranged for the party to join her. She drinks mushroom wine, freshly poured, and offers some to her guests. When the party balks, she laughs sardonically. "I see our reputation has made its way to the surface. Drow only poison each other in squabbles for power. I have no cause to poison you. Unlike Gralkhar, I'm not stupid enough to believe you will consent to his offer. We have business to discuss." At Sunrise's request, she sends Sorndax to the other room to fetch tea.
If the party merely wishes to escape, she will not stop them—and in fact she assists them, telling them of a secret means of escape that drow spies have carved across the spire, a series of hand- and footholds leading from her suite's window across the outside wall of the Keep, leading up to secret and hazardous tunnels away from Darjheim. "There is no shame in survival. Be warned, however, that Gralkhar is not the one you need to fear. The rest of your lives will be spent looking over your shoulders for a man with backwards hands."
When Ward tells her that they intend to face Trinilane the rakshasa head-on, Nyrul smiles grimly. "I admire you. You have more courage than sense."
She tells the party, with complete honesty, that she is here on behalf of her Queen to negotiate a possible alliance between the drow kingdom of Zimthirol and Gralkhar's realm of Darjheim. Nyrul has been entrusted with the authority to decide for or against the alliance. She, her Queen, and the rest of the drow have been convinced of the coming mind-flayer invasion, and will act to preserve their survival, first and foremost. As of right now, joining the alliance between the Lich Queen, the duergar, and the fire giants seems to be the most promising path to survival. However, the drow have no wish to be ruled by an immortal Lich Queen forever. "The Lich Queen's hand will not rest lightly, nor will it be easily removed once the mind-flayer threat has passed."
She asks the party what they know of the history of the Lich Queen. They don't know much, just old stories from childhood.
"Once upon a time," Nyrul says, "the lich-queen Gwydieth was a wise and powerful elf archmage. She befriended the equally wise and benevolent gold dragon Ulringall, and together they ruled a vast kingdom named Kullankul. With their arcane knowledge and wisdom, the two were able to defend their land from a variety of threats from this and other planes. As the two aged, they grew concerned with who could follow their footsteps and protect the world of Quol’.
"Their initial abhorrence of necromantic magic faded over the course of a terrible war with the demon lord Graz’zt, whose cult had summoned him in a concerted effort to overthrow Gwydieth and Ulringall. With Ulringall grievously wounded and the war turning against them, the two agreed to collaborate on a great secret work: the creation of two phylacteries to contain their respective souls.
"Under the guise of an abdication ceremony, to which the cult leader, a human named Zanzha Jillay, was invited, Gwydieth and Ulringall betrayed the truce they had declared and murdered Zanzha to create the first phylactery, that of the mighty Ulringall. Thus spared from death, the newly made dracolich challenged the molydeus of Graz’zt, the very voice and representative of the demon lord, and defeated it. The blood of this demon was used to create Gwydieth’s own phylactery. Together, the two used their new powers and invulnerability to drive out their enemies and impose peace upon their realm—a peace they enforced with ever growing severity. Their famed just and kind rule was gradually abandoned, in favor of making Kullankul’s armies the most powerful in the world. Alliances were forged with the fire giants, the duergar, and the great oozes of the Underworld, as well as certain lords and ladies of Shadowfell and the Feywild, planes whose boundaries permeate the plane of Quol’.
"Gwydieth and Ulringall were preparing, it is said, for the greatest threat of all to strike the world: an approaching conflict that spans many planes and will soon spill into that of Quol’. It is a vast war between the forces of the Gith and the Illithids, the mind-flayers, a conflict that has left numberless worlds nothing more than burnt out cinders—or worse, nursery worlds for the mind-flayers. Gwydieth and Ulringall came to believe that only in their immortal undeath could they forge from Quol’ a world strong enough to resist the inexorable chaos and destruction of this endless war.
"But they have been stymied, thus far, by the efforts of Ulringall’s niece, the gold dragon Sulana, who has (with the aid of her Golden Table, which is far more pervasive and powerful than those in Rajgan might suspect) united much of the world against Kullankul over the centuries. Kullankul’s harsh methods of expansion have only helped Sulana press her case of unity against them. Sulana believes her uncle to be hopelessly lost to the evil of his lichdom, betraying her and all golden dragons, according to her strongly-held sense of good and evil, right and wrong. Sulana believes that the tale of the mind-flayer invasion is just an excuse her uncle made up to justify his tyranny and lust for power.
"The peace with Malimpel was a major victory for her, countering the liches' influence on the Thrall, the sorcerous rulers of Malimpel. The Gray King's oblex bombs were a means of subverting that peace, and of reasserting the liches' foothold on Sulana's doorstep.
"Among the drow, nothing is free," Nyrul says. "As a House Captain of high rank, my advice would fetch a substantial sum of gold in Zimthirol. I already have one payment from you: I know you have no intention of allying with Gralkhar. I can hold that over your heads, should that ever be required. I ask of you only one further thing: When you return to the surface, convince Empress Sulana of the coming threat." The drow would rather ally with a united surface world to overthrow the Lich Queen, so long as Quol' could in fact survive the Gith-Illithid war in the Lich Queen's absence.
Ward asks if the duergar have any proof of the coming threat. Nyrul says that the Lich Queen knows of the coming war thanks to divination magic of exceptional power. She does say that the duergar have a relic from the first age of mind-flayer occupation: an Illithid artifact, currently locked away in the Gray King's treasury. Nyrul also tells the party of secret drow passageways into the throne room, climbing down the hollow center of the central spire that forms his throne.
Nyrul warns the party that Gralkhar will be a formidable foe. She doesn't know what the nozzle that has replaced his left hand does, but she does know that he is immune to poison damage, and he cannot be poisoned, charmed, exhausted, frightened, or paralyzed. His favored fighting strategy is to slam an opponent prone with his fist, then stomp on them with his iron feet. It is a deadly combination.
The party makes a plan: They will make a quick raid of the treasury, utilizing secret passages the drow have created, and obtain the mind-flayer relic as evidence for Sulana. The two dwarf scouts, Vistra and Forlond, will take a long rest and heal up while this is happening, and be ready to carry the mind-flayer artifact into the drow escape tunnels, to get it safely away from Darjheim. There the dwarves will wait for the party in a defensible rendezvous spot before the tunnel nears the dangers of the Underdark, approximately an hour's travel away from Darjheim. The party, meanwhile, will attempt to steal the monastery's conjuration amulet from the Gray King—assassinating him if at all possible, or simply getting away with their lives if not. Or so they hope.
Following the drow tunnels, the party emerges within striking distance of the treasury. They enter combat with a duergar warlord commander, who wields a psionic-enhanced hammer, and two xarrorn guards, who attack with psionic flamethrowers. Ward gets knocked out once again by the psionic hammer, but Sunrise stuns the commander, and the party quickly mops up resistance. Lan disarms a pressure plate trap at the entrance to the treasury, and the party make their way inside, where they take a short rest to recuperate and assess the treasure. (They also drag the bodies of the guards inside, looting the corpses.)
In the treasury, the party finds:
* an Illithid breastplate, fashioned of some metal unknown on Quol', which makes anyone who touches it feel unsettled, and slightly queasy in the pit of their stomach
* a bag of holding containing 13 four-sided crystal prisms, which are covered in a strange design of interlocking blocks, which can be felt more easily than seen; anyone who touches the prisms gets a slight headache
* 6600 gp
* 12360 sp
* 13 gemstones worth 50 gp, a mix of bloodstones, chalcedonies, sardonyx, and moonstone
* 2 amber stones worth 100 gp
* 7 transparent bottles, covered in dust, which have dried powdery residue of old potions inside: one bottle has yellowish powder and the dried husk of an eyeball, one has pale strands that appear sticky, one has white powder containing what appears to be a large dried fingernail inside it, three have dark red powder, and one has a mix of yellow and black residue
* a small sphere of thick glass that exudes an aura of evocation magic
* a fearsome steel helm that appears to have no effect other than making its wearer's eyes glow red while wearing it
* a +1 greatsword
* a +1 longsword
* a +1 shortsword
* a +1 war pick
Using Sunrise's climbing skills and Dara's climbing kit, the party easily scales the innermost wall of the Gray King's Keep and regroup in the "street" on the other side. Before they can make another move, a phalanx of duergar stone guards phase out of invisibility 40 feet away. Their commander, who has burn scars on the left side of her face and head, sealing off her left eye and leaving that half of her scalp bare, identifies herself as Janth Flintskin. She calls out to the party, "Halt. The Gray King offers a truce and a parlay. Come with us and you will come to no harm." When Ward asks if they can keep their weapons, Janth scoffs, "The Grey King doesn't fear your weapons," and the party keeps them.
Janth and her phalanx march beside the party along one of the streets that radiates outward from the Keep's central square. In the center of the square rises the Keep itself: a mighty stone column, formed from the union of a stalactite and stalagmite, some 200 feet in diameter. It stretches away into the darkness, lit here and there by small windows pierced through the stone.The column is wider at its base, which has been carved into five sets of grand stairs leading inward from the five radiating streets of the inner town. More stone guards phase out of invisibility in order to open the doors to Janth and her retinue.
Inside the column has been hollowed out into a single vast chamber, some 150 feet high. Spider strands hang from the ceiling, nearly to the ground, and the scuttle and chitter of numerous invisible steeder-spiders drifts down to the party's ears from above. No obvious way of going up into the higher levels of the Keep can be seen. In the center a slender column has been left, which rises into the darkness. At its base it has been carved into a throne.
Gralkhar Fellgren, the Gray King, sits atop the throne—a being half duergar and half construct, nearly 8 feet tall, his limbs replaced with powerful mechanical ones. His left arm steams from a nozzle where his hand should be. His gray eyes gleam with manic energy. His teeth have been replaced by metal points, and his gray scalp has a plate of steel bolted atop it. His beard is twisted into two braids that reach nearly to his heavy iron feet. An iron chain around his neck disappears under his armor.
As soon as the party enters, two stone guards appear from another door, dragging two dwarf scouts (captured from the diversionary battle at the front gates). The two captives have been roughed up; the woman's right eye is swollen shut and she is missing teeth, and the man walks with a limp. The Gray King seems to forget that the party is there, turning toward the dwarves with obvious hatred.
"What are your names?" he demands of the dwarves.
The two scouts stand up bravely, despite their injuries, and announce them: the woman is Vistra Eversharp, and the man is Forlond Ungrunn.
Gralkhar goes on a rant: "Dwarves are the falsest traitors the world has ever known," he rasps at them, loud enough for his voice to echo across the chamber. "Dwarves and their false gods abandoned the duergar to their suffering in the depths of the earth. Where was Moradin when the mind-flayers enslaved us?" Gralkhar spits in disgust. "Where was wise Berronar when our homes were invaded and our clans destroyed?" He spits again. "It was Deep Duerra who came to our aid, and gave us the power of psionics to rid Quol’ of the mind-flayers. It was Laduguer who delved down into Hell and won the legions of Asmodeus to our side. These, and these alone, are the rightful gods of dwarvenkind. All others are soft, and weak, and faithless, just like you upper dwarves, who have never known the true darkness." He stands and lurches down his throne toward the scouts, who stand bravely and don’t even flinch.
At this moment, Ward steps forward and intervenes, attempting to reason with the Gray King's unreasonable hatred. He turns away from the two dwarves and stomps toward the party, the stone under their feet shaking as he moves. He towers over Ward, but seems more amused by her than anything else. "But you, my dears, are no mere surface trash. Come. We have matters of importance to discuss." In Undercommon, he says to the guards, "Take them to the lowest cells and await my orders." Snadwick quietly translates his words for the party. Ward intervenes again, insisting that the dwarves be left with the party. His eyes hardening, the Gray King agrees, and returns to his throne to present his case to the party.
Meanwhile, Dara's detect magic invocation has permitted her to see what hangs from the end of the King's iron chain: something the size and shape of an amulet, radiating powerful conjuration magic, matching the description Sunrise was given of the artifact that was stolen from his monastery.
Gralkhar praises the party for their resourcefulness. "You thwarted nearly all of my oblex bombs. Only one has escaped you! Who knows where it might be?" (The party does, in fact, know where it is: In the capital of Rajgan, having been sent to Sashi, a bandit leader.) Gralkhar needs leaders and governors for when he rules the surface world. "My people have grown too accustomed to the darkness. We neither enjoy nor desire the sun. We need loyal, capable servants to rule our new realms for us. I offer you the surface, my dears! In return, you must serve me and only me."
Gralkhar is in an alliance with the Lich Queen Gwydieth to unite Quol' against a coming invasion of the mind-flayers, who are returning after many millennia. His oblex bombs were part of a long-term scheme to destabilize Rajgan and other mighty surface empires to make conquest easier for the Lich Queen and her undead armies. But he is blunt and forthright in telling the party his ultimate goals:
* Unite the surface and the Underdark against the invasion of the mind-flayers.
* Turn all surface peoples who are not already subjects of the Lich Queen into servants of the duergar, who by virtue of their superiority ("forged in suffering") are entitled to the servitude of the softer peoples.
* Continue to build and perfect his body until he has the power to overthrow the Lich Queen, overthrow Asmodeus himself, and take the fight to the stars, where he will exterminate every single mind-flayer in all the worlds.
What he offers the party:
* Positions as proxy governors of suitable surface realms. "You, scholar, would you not be eager to possess the Scriptorium as your very own? You, monk, would you not yearn to be the head of your monastery? You, knight, surely you would prove a fine head for your Order." Dara would be his ambassador to the fey realms, "enlisting their help" in the coming fight. Ward and Lan could have all the treasure and ships they could desire.
* Substantial shares in the riches and power of the surface.
* A life of luxury and safety, free of the harsh labor fated for the rest of the surface peoples.
In return he expects from them:
* Absolute, unquestioning loyalty to him and his conquest. No questions. Only obedience.
* Use their opening with the Golden Empress Sulana to destabilize her rule. Feed her misinformation, cause her to make tactical errors, stir up strife with Malimpel.
* Seek out and ally with certain other surface-dwellers who have joined his cause.
* Aid in conquering the surface realms when the Lich Queen makes her move.
When the charismatic bard shit-talks back to him, he grows visibly irritated, and gives them 24 hours to make their decision. He already seems bored with them.
Spider strands are extended downward, and the party (with their new dwarf scout friends) are escorted into a lift woven from spider silk, which is pulled up through a hole in a ceiling, into a guard ready-room. Janth and another guard escort them up several more floors via conventional stairs, finally showing them to a suite of rooms furnished with what, to duergar sensibilities, counts as luxury: hard, square, blocky furniture of iron and stone, draped with the skins of strange Underdark creatures.
While the party debates what to do—basically agreeing to somehow nab the amulet and get the hell out so they can live to report to Sulana—a soft but persistent knock sounds at the door. It turns out to be Sorndax Aj'jorndar, a drow elite commander in service to House Captain Nyrul O'rd. Sorndax courteously extends an invitation to come have a drink and a chat with his mistress Nyrul.
The party finds Nyrul in her own suite of chambers, seated at a table with chairs arranged for the party to join her. She drinks mushroom wine, freshly poured, and offers some to her guests. When the party balks, she laughs sardonically. "I see our reputation has made its way to the surface. Drow only poison each other in squabbles for power. I have no cause to poison you. Unlike Gralkhar, I'm not stupid enough to believe you will consent to his offer. We have business to discuss." At Sunrise's request, she sends Sorndax to the other room to fetch tea.
If the party merely wishes to escape, she will not stop them—and in fact she assists them, telling them of a secret means of escape that drow spies have carved across the spire, a series of hand- and footholds leading from her suite's window across the outside wall of the Keep, leading up to secret and hazardous tunnels away from Darjheim. "There is no shame in survival. Be warned, however, that Gralkhar is not the one you need to fear. The rest of your lives will be spent looking over your shoulders for a man with backwards hands."
When Ward tells her that they intend to face Trinilane the rakshasa head-on, Nyrul smiles grimly. "I admire you. You have more courage than sense."
She tells the party, with complete honesty, that she is here on behalf of her Queen to negotiate a possible alliance between the drow kingdom of Zimthirol and Gralkhar's realm of Darjheim. Nyrul has been entrusted with the authority to decide for or against the alliance. She, her Queen, and the rest of the drow have been convinced of the coming mind-flayer invasion, and will act to preserve their survival, first and foremost. As of right now, joining the alliance between the Lich Queen, the duergar, and the fire giants seems to be the most promising path to survival. However, the drow have no wish to be ruled by an immortal Lich Queen forever. "The Lich Queen's hand will not rest lightly, nor will it be easily removed once the mind-flayer threat has passed."
She asks the party what they know of the history of the Lich Queen. They don't know much, just old stories from childhood.
"Once upon a time," Nyrul says, "the lich-queen Gwydieth was a wise and powerful elf archmage. She befriended the equally wise and benevolent gold dragon Ulringall, and together they ruled a vast kingdom named Kullankul. With their arcane knowledge and wisdom, the two were able to defend their land from a variety of threats from this and other planes. As the two aged, they grew concerned with who could follow their footsteps and protect the world of Quol’.
"Their initial abhorrence of necromantic magic faded over the course of a terrible war with the demon lord Graz’zt, whose cult had summoned him in a concerted effort to overthrow Gwydieth and Ulringall. With Ulringall grievously wounded and the war turning against them, the two agreed to collaborate on a great secret work: the creation of two phylacteries to contain their respective souls.
"Under the guise of an abdication ceremony, to which the cult leader, a human named Zanzha Jillay, was invited, Gwydieth and Ulringall betrayed the truce they had declared and murdered Zanzha to create the first phylactery, that of the mighty Ulringall. Thus spared from death, the newly made dracolich challenged the molydeus of Graz’zt, the very voice and representative of the demon lord, and defeated it. The blood of this demon was used to create Gwydieth’s own phylactery. Together, the two used their new powers and invulnerability to drive out their enemies and impose peace upon their realm—a peace they enforced with ever growing severity. Their famed just and kind rule was gradually abandoned, in favor of making Kullankul’s armies the most powerful in the world. Alliances were forged with the fire giants, the duergar, and the great oozes of the Underworld, as well as certain lords and ladies of Shadowfell and the Feywild, planes whose boundaries permeate the plane of Quol’.
"Gwydieth and Ulringall were preparing, it is said, for the greatest threat of all to strike the world: an approaching conflict that spans many planes and will soon spill into that of Quol’. It is a vast war between the forces of the Gith and the Illithids, the mind-flayers, a conflict that has left numberless worlds nothing more than burnt out cinders—or worse, nursery worlds for the mind-flayers. Gwydieth and Ulringall came to believe that only in their immortal undeath could they forge from Quol’ a world strong enough to resist the inexorable chaos and destruction of this endless war.
"But they have been stymied, thus far, by the efforts of Ulringall’s niece, the gold dragon Sulana, who has (with the aid of her Golden Table, which is far more pervasive and powerful than those in Rajgan might suspect) united much of the world against Kullankul over the centuries. Kullankul’s harsh methods of expansion have only helped Sulana press her case of unity against them. Sulana believes her uncle to be hopelessly lost to the evil of his lichdom, betraying her and all golden dragons, according to her strongly-held sense of good and evil, right and wrong. Sulana believes that the tale of the mind-flayer invasion is just an excuse her uncle made up to justify his tyranny and lust for power.
"The peace with Malimpel was a major victory for her, countering the liches' influence on the Thrall, the sorcerous rulers of Malimpel. The Gray King's oblex bombs were a means of subverting that peace, and of reasserting the liches' foothold on Sulana's doorstep.
"Among the drow, nothing is free," Nyrul says. "As a House Captain of high rank, my advice would fetch a substantial sum of gold in Zimthirol. I already have one payment from you: I know you have no intention of allying with Gralkhar. I can hold that over your heads, should that ever be required. I ask of you only one further thing: When you return to the surface, convince Empress Sulana of the coming threat." The drow would rather ally with a united surface world to overthrow the Lich Queen, so long as Quol' could in fact survive the Gith-Illithid war in the Lich Queen's absence.
Ward asks if the duergar have any proof of the coming threat. Nyrul says that the Lich Queen knows of the coming war thanks to divination magic of exceptional power. She does say that the duergar have a relic from the first age of mind-flayer occupation: an Illithid artifact, currently locked away in the Gray King's treasury. Nyrul also tells the party of secret drow passageways into the throne room, climbing down the hollow center of the central spire that forms his throne.
Nyrul warns the party that Gralkhar will be a formidable foe. She doesn't know what the nozzle that has replaced his left hand does, but she does know that he is immune to poison damage, and he cannot be poisoned, charmed, exhausted, frightened, or paralyzed. His favored fighting strategy is to slam an opponent prone with his fist, then stomp on them with his iron feet. It is a deadly combination.
The party makes a plan: They will make a quick raid of the treasury, utilizing secret passages the drow have created, and obtain the mind-flayer relic as evidence for Sulana. The two dwarf scouts, Vistra and Forlond, will take a long rest and heal up while this is happening, and be ready to carry the mind-flayer artifact into the drow escape tunnels, to get it safely away from Darjheim. There the dwarves will wait for the party in a defensible rendezvous spot before the tunnel nears the dangers of the Underdark, approximately an hour's travel away from Darjheim. The party, meanwhile, will attempt to steal the monastery's conjuration amulet from the Gray King—assassinating him if at all possible, or simply getting away with their lives if not. Or so they hope.
Following the drow tunnels, the party emerges within striking distance of the treasury. They enter combat with a duergar warlord commander, who wields a psionic-enhanced hammer, and two xarrorn guards, who attack with psionic flamethrowers. Ward gets knocked out once again by the psionic hammer, but Sunrise stuns the commander, and the party quickly mops up resistance. Lan disarms a pressure plate trap at the entrance to the treasury, and the party make their way inside, where they take a short rest to recuperate and assess the treasure. (They also drag the bodies of the guards inside, looting the corpses.)
In the treasury, the party finds:
* an Illithid breastplate, fashioned of some metal unknown on Quol', which makes anyone who touches it feel unsettled, and slightly queasy in the pit of their stomach
* a bag of holding containing 13 four-sided crystal prisms, which are covered in a strange design of interlocking blocks, which can be felt more easily than seen; anyone who touches the prisms gets a slight headache
* 6600 gp
* 12360 sp
* 13 gemstones worth 50 gp, a mix of bloodstones, chalcedonies, sardonyx, and moonstone
* 2 amber stones worth 100 gp
* 7 transparent bottles, covered in dust, which have dried powdery residue of old potions inside: one bottle has yellowish powder and the dried husk of an eyeball, one has pale strands that appear sticky, one has white powder containing what appears to be a large dried fingernail inside it, three have dark red powder, and one has a mix of yellow and black residue
* a small sphere of thick glass that exudes an aura of evocation magic
* a fearsome steel helm that appears to have no effect other than making its wearer's eyes glow red while wearing it
* a +1 greatsword
* a +1 longsword
* a +1 shortsword
* a +1 war pick
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