Agents of the Storm

Quori lore

Rhaan 17, 998YK, night.

Thormark History skill check into Quori lore:


While most Quori who opposed the Dreaming Dark fled Dal Quor thousands of years ago, new traitors are occasionally discovered. To punish these rebels, the Quori devised an eternal torture: immortal imprisonment in the limited mind of a human. Unlike the willing possession attained by the Inspired or the shared symbiosis of the kalashtar, elan hosts are not influenced by the spirits they hold. The Quori spirits inside elans are incapacitated and helpless to do anything but observe. When a few of the first elans unexpectedly manifested powerful psionic abilities, the Inspired reported the problem and the Dreaming Dark ceased to use it as a punishment.

Heirs of Ohr Kaluun

Having reached the end of my poor sinner’s life, my hair now white, I prepare to leave on this parchment my testimony as to the wondrous and terrible events that I witnessed in my youth, towards the end of the year of our Lords 90. May the Inspired grant me the wisdom and grace to be the faithful chronicler of the happenings that took place near my remote village in the dark north of Riedra. A village whose name it seems, even now, pious and prudent to omit.

“In Sarlona everybody fears the Inspired, but even the Inspired fear the Heirs of Ohr Kluun”

“They seek to free an overlord Rakshasa Rajah – a demon of the first age known as ‘The Rage of War’ which was trapped in the ice by the storm dragons.”

Sahuagin Cave

The Reality Storm hits the coast line area, the party takes shelter in a hidden Sahuagin Cave – following a group of mysteries figures that came flying in.

A reality which is a dream

A Dream which is reality, a reality which is a dream…

You’re bodies are already awake but you’re minds have been seeded. It has taken you’re thoughts into the outer rhyme of the Dal Quor, A place so remote that the il-Lashtavar pulse rarely reach it, Trapped in a bubble in a sea of bubbles,

You are not alone, there are four others: strangers but very similar, four brave souls – trained in fighting out worldly threats. They are as confused as you are, they did not see you as you do not see them as each group only see thorough the others eyes as filtered by the liquid glass wall of the bubble.

-Stealgur’s Quori, 90Unity (-212YK)

Somewhere over the rainbow
Way up high,
There's a land that I heard of
Once in a lullaby.

Somewhere over the rainbow
Skies are blue,
And the dreams that you dare to dream
Really do come true.

A new day has begun. you have done well, people of Kintam Rhlash. Lord Maurakhal watches from above and is pleased with your work.” - a soft fatherly voice echos in Chandi, Severin and Thorn’s mind.

Edgewalkers, I give you a powerful weapon of the past to aid you.” Stealgur steps out of the monolith

Bag of Holding will be assigned to Steelgar

SEVERIN: The Bag of Holding will be assigned to Steelgar.

DM: You all do realize that hes the only member in the group that doesn’t have a ‘home address’ / papers (his social security number have been filed off ). Some may call him a refugee most will call him a vagrant/hobo/bum – not to his face probably. Every night when the rest of you go to sleep – he reads “My Struggle” by some Warforged author named the Lord of Blades, then he plays ‘catch the Maul’ as he throws it in the air above Severin’s sleeping head.

When Thorn first found him in Graywall it was in a “wireheads” den, rusted and high on electric stimulation to the head.

Graywall mountains

“The rain and wind where comin’ down like all the Gods of the Dark Six decided to take a piss at the same time. When you’re in a situation like mine, you can only think in metaphors.” – Severin Kirin

Start campaign date: Rhaan 4, 998YK Current date: Rhaan 14, 998YK, sunset. somewhere on the north peak of the Graywall mountains.

The six Ogres where at there back, Severin looked to the other party members, they all had the some thought in mind: should they stay and fight or make a run for it. The javelin whistled through the air, hitting Severin at the side of the head, everything went black.

The Ogres where relentless in there attacks, there clubs slamming into Thormark taking the wind of of his lungs. he maneuvered the Ram to the side and out of their reach, he pulls a small flask of dark ale from the Ram’s saddle drink most of it and pours the rest on the open wound in his shoulder, feeling better he turns his focus back to the fight.

The Ogre was taking cover behind a large boulder, joking about the “Heavy Tin man”, mocking him and trying to lure him closer. Stilgar’s armbow locked into place and fired a bolt striking the Ogre in center forehead killing him instantly – Warfored don’t have a sense of humor.

Two strings of wire come out of the old rusted sword jammed all the way to its hilt in the rough mountain soil. Thorn gets her knife close to the green wire. Thormark is standing at her back his fingers are twitching like hes trying to count invisible coins, cold sweat drips from his brow “cut the red string” he whispers. Thorn’s knife come down on the string – she cut the green one, they both look up the ridge the pile of stones above them is still and unmoving – the trap is disabled. Thorn stands up and dust herself off with a smug look on her face, she walks on whistling some Brelandish folk song. The ground suddenly disappear below her feet a second trap a pit with spikes at his bottom! but Thormark is there holding her belt stooping her fall. They walk silently on , later Thormark remembers: changelings are color blind.

The strong white light emanating from the cave’s entrance awakes Severin. He looks around and only see the Rams at first, then he notice Lerold coming back from the nearby cliff’s edge. There is a shout from inside the cave, Thron is suddenly near him, running into the cave. Severin looks to the right he see a two floor wooden house which seem at odds with its surroundings, some big balloons are tied with a net to its roof. Two hobgoblins seem to be pushing a floating disc with strange white orbs of lights into the house’s second floor and closing its double doors. a Giant with red hair is smoking a pipe while walking around the hobgoblin’s house.The Giant hears the shout from the cave, he retrieves a giant black Maul from his back and heads toward them, the house begins to float up the air.

“There is a large group of Ogres coming up the trail, they will be here shortly, they others are still in the cave” said Lerold with a distant tone, his hands at his sides, his eyes fixed on the approaching Giant. Severin can see the dragonmark lines on his body shift, and then a gal of strong wind washes over them, the wind speed and strength increase as it moves away from them to create a tornado, fog and rain follow. Severin can see the Giant get pushed back surprised by the force of the wind, the hobgoblin’s house is caught in the storm and whirl around a few feet above there heads all the way to the cliff edge and back.

“You may want to run!” says Lerold “That wind will not hold that Giant for long, fog goes all the way down the cliff now..” his voice can hardly be heard over the wind “Argonth will come now…”. The Giant sprints through the storm and emerge from the fog just a few steps from where Lerold and Severin are standing, his huge Maul is raised. Lerold turns around and run, he reaches the edge of the cliff and jumps. The Giant face seem puzzled for a second, but then he turns his attention to Severin he makes one more step but the half-elf disappears.

Severin is standing on the porch of the hobgoblin’s house looking down on the Giant a few feet below him as the house makes another fast swirl pass the cave entrance towards the mountain’s wall, “Caiphon help me”.

Welcome to the Argonth

The Warforged – sergeant Wand pulls a down a heavy rope which is barely visible through some niche near the door. A few seconds pass and the huge iron door slides and closes. the sounds of metallic heavy bolts snapping into place echo in the corridor.

The building you have entered into looks like a windowless four floor warehouse connected by a long sloped crest to the lower part of the Argonth’s bow. Dim magical lights set into the walls show a featureless first floor with two gradient wooden beams on the far sides leading to an upper floor.

Capt. Berta apparently didn’t wait, along with the ‘Rookie’ she lead the three Bear mounts up, you can still hear them somewhere above you.

Standing in the long corridor are fourteen individuals:

The five of you.

Kalarel the human Blood of Vol priest which looks somewhat exhausted.

Nina the longbow carrying Khorvaire-Elf with her usual indifferent look.

Carlos d’Kundarak the dwarf seem to be interested in the door behind you more then anything else.

Mary a gnome reporter from the Korranberg Chronicle.

A half-naked Breland human (the freed Gnoll’s slave, which haven’t really given a name yet), he ignores Mary’s questions while his eyes madly gaze his surroundings.

Dorin d’Deneith seem calm and detached while he helps the caravan driver handle the two mage-breed horses from the Orien coach.

Larold d’Lyrandar (aka “the pilot”) is walking on his own two feet looking well for a change, his linen shirt top buttons are lose proudly revealing more of the line patterns of his greater mark of the Storm, he seem to be glued to Tricksi shadowing her every move, yet he also gives curious amused looks toward Chandi and Kalarel.

Wand faces all of you and say: “Welcome to the Argonth, my name is ” you feel the building shakes, and a feeling in your stomach tell you that its going up ...


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