---

When Darius returned to the capital, his teams were still desperately tracking leads on the ancient Tomb of Armag.

The first, was a Devil. Literally. Calling himself the “Forefather” and claiming to be the father of Kanerah and Kalikke! He said that the ancient soul eater which had been tracking Kanerah was growing near, and in the interests of “protecting his investments” he wished to assist in eliminating it. He insisted that Darius would be unlikely to either find or defeat it without his aid, and as this matched what the sisters had told him he wasn’t inclined to entirely discount it – despite the source. He wished to meet in the hills, and said to bring Kallike, but by no means whatsoever bring Kanerah – as they could not risk actually handing the creature its prey. Darius was sure there was more to this. There’s not such thing as an honest deal with a Devil. But choices were limited.

Upon arriving at the sight Kalikke sullenly “greeted” the Devil. She had not appreciated their prior dealings. But when he revealed his plan, she was shocked. He pointed ahead to a small camp in the distance, where she could see the forms of her three tiefling friends, the Sweet Teeth. He explained that he had magically disguised one of them to “smell” like Kanerah to the Soul Eater. So once it had killed them it would believe her dead and the problem would be resolved!

Naturally, this was unacceptable to any but the “Forefather”. He suggested that Kalikke could switch to her sister to bait the beast away from her friends so they could fight it. But she couldn’t do that to her sister either. So it would have to be the hard way!

And eventually they managed to slay the foul being without loosing any of the Sweet Teeth, The Forefather congratulated them on their victory, but suggested they should ask Kanerah what she thought of the solution. As Kalikke morphed back to Kanerah she rejoiced at the news. But the Forefather merely smiled. Disappearing with the cryptic comment that his plans were now back on track….

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The second visitor was a dishevelled, weary dwarven warrior petitioning aid. It would seem that a patrol of dwarves had attempted to reclaim on old dwarven keep near the Narlmarches, and had found themselves trapped by a guardian golem. Several others had given their lives distracting it so that she could get away and run for aid. Harrim could not decide how he felt about all this, except that he wanted to come along if Darius saw fit to help.

When they arrived, they discovered the patrol was trapped by no ordinary golem, but by an Admantine Golem! Darius was not sure they even had any weapon or spell capable of harming such a construct!

But Harrim merely scoffed. Seemingly angered beyond reason and oblivious to the danger. He strode up to the golem and angrily shook his fist at it – cursing it as a flawed product of a flawed god. And as it moved to strike him down – it instead began to break apart. Bursting into shards as Harrim ranted and raved at it.

The trapped dwarves cheered as the rushed out to thank him, lead by Jarmuld – a paladin of Torag. Harrim scoffed at the symbol and seemed to desperately want to push the paladin into a religious argument, but Jarmuld was uninterested in taking the bait. He already knew who Harrim was, he knew of his God, and he knew of his feelings towards Torag. Instead he thoughtfully asked Harrim if he knew how he had done what he had just done. That gave him pause. When Harrim was ready to listen, Jarmuld told him there was an exceedingly rare dwarven “gift” called “the Touch of the Unmaker”. It was a gift which allowed one to release the spirits of old dwarven artifacts which had outlived or been perverted from their purpose. Jarmuld said none knew from where the power was granted, but it was a rare blessing indeed. Harrim scoffed, but his heart wasn’t in it.

And as they turned to leave, when he though no-one was looking, Harrim looked particularly…. thoughtful… as he stared up at a worn statue of Torag.

---

Upon their return to the capital, they received word from Ekundayo. They had managed to narrow the search area significantly by studying where Aramag’s forces had been searching, and Jubilost and Storyteller had turned up some clues of their own. It was time to return to the western plains and search in earnest.

Armed with new leads and new information, they eventually found the entrance to the Tomb – hidden away in gully almost invisible from any distance. There were Kellid warriors encamped inside, eager for word of the battle. They cursed when told Armag had abandoned his army in battle, and bitterly complained about being made to wait and do nothing here for weeks while their brethern were either in battle or in the Tomb and a Defaced Sister would not allow them to leave. Darius cooly asked them what sort of Kellid warriors they were that a single Sister – whatever she may be – could hold them under her thumb..

A few sharp looks, angry hisses, and the Kellids turned and rushed the Sister en-masse! She may have been able to defeat them even still – had not Darius had other plans. He and Angelique countered her every spell, and allowed her to fight the Kellid “fairly”. She didn’t last long.

The inside of the tomb was old, dusty, and with signs of recent passage. It was also chock full of traps… And dead Kellid littered the tomb – warning of the price of relaxing one’s guard. They all kept a sharp lookout, and Maha’s skills were put to the test determining how to circumvent or disable each new contraption.

There’s was no shortage of undead guardians to keep things interesting, if the death traps grew a little to predictable.

Eventually they came upon a chamber with a single barbarian standing quietly in the center. A barbarian made entirely of bronze. He claimed to be Zorek – priest of Gorum and keeper of the tomb. He required that they prove their worthiness before being allowed to pass. Darius asked him where Armag was now, and he responded “The same place he has been for ages – his body in his burial chamber and his soul bound to his blade. Or were you referring to the bold boy who took his name? He proved his worth in combat and was allowed to enter”.

Darius was no stranger to legends and stories, and he wove the tales of his battles against the Stag Lord, Vordekai, the Trolls, and the Fey until Zorek could not deny his great accomplishments. He welcomed him with flourish!

Before long they came to Armag’s tomb itself – and it was a chilling sight. The room was scattered with the dead bodies of Kellid barbarians – what remained of Armag’s loyal squadron. Armag himself stood in the middle of the room, looking crazed and clutching a large, bloodstained sword. He was shouting at a Defaced Sister.

“Armag’s entire life is lies! Armag is not Arma! Sword says sword is Armag! Who is Armag?” The sister tried to calm him. Telling him that the sword had merely slept to long and no longer recognized him. But Armag boomed “STOP LYING” and ran her through.

Then a burst of energy shone from his blade, the dead began to rise, and he turned his attention to Darius…

Kwon kept the big guy busy.

Darius was no priest, but he understood how priestly magic worked. And he knew just the sort to pull out to deal with massed undead…

While Angelique had her own methods for preventing the walking dead from moving around.

At which point Armag made the fatal mistake of focusing so hard on Kwon that he lost track of Maha…

When Armag was defeated and exhausted on his knees, he looked around and appeared to come to his senses. “Be merciful.” he asked simply. Darius asked him to rise and speak.

Armag told him that the Defaced Sisters had raised him since birth – telling him of his glorious past and how he would forge a new future. “And every word was a lie!” He said he had learned from the sword that even ancient Armag was a lie. Armag had not been a hero, but a bloodthirsty ghoul leading his tribesmen into hopeless battles and dedicating their deaths to Gorum. He looked at Darius, and said he saw clearly now. The sword could no longer control him, and neither did the Sisters. He wasn’t sure what his new path should be, but he wanted the opportunity to find one. Darius watched him for a long time, and then declared “You’re free. Go, Make your own destiny”.

Armag was shocked, but elated. He declared Darius a “Blood Brother”, and then left to find his fate

When they left the tomb, they found large numbers of Kellid elders and shaman gathering outside – including Dugath and Gwart. The Kellied were attempting to select a new chief and a new path, and felt that as Darius had both defeated them in battle and defeated Armag in the tomb he would be the best to make the choice. One faction still supported Armag, but Armag looked uninterested in reclaiming his old position. Others supported Dugath or Gwart. A few even put forth Amiri – who snorted at the suggestion. After careful thought, Darius chose Dugath. Dugath seemed wise, experienced, and had repeatedly demonstrated an ability to see and think beyond the obvious – siding with Darius early when the Sisters were sowing division and being skeptical of Armag’s ambitions from the start. It seemed a worthy choice.

Returning to Tuskdale, there was one final matter at hand. A coronation! Now that the threat of the Kellid invasion was over, and in light of his service in defending Rostov – Lady Jamandi was proposing to crown Darius King of the Stolen Lands. He already effectively ruled most of the area. No longer would he be a Baron under Rostov’s protection. He would be an Ally on her border.

And so it was. There was still much to do, much to build, and much to plan. And Nyrissa was still lurking out there, somewhere, planning further trouble. But Darius was growing weary of waiting to respond to her provocations. He set Storyteller and Jhod to the task of researching all the various fey curses they had seen since arriving. From the Stag Lord, to Tarttuk, to Trisitian. He wanted to understand how they worked. What were the common threads? And more importantly, how could they be anticipated, countered… or even turned in other directions…

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Author’s Notes:

I almost laughed at loud at the test to enter the lower tomb. Challenging a *skald* to proclaim his deeds and exploits?

I had forgotten how many of the adversaries you meet over the course of this campaign turn out in ways other than “kill the big boss”. There’s always the ones like Vordekai and the Stag Lord that are just just beyond making peace. But many of the others can be handled in a variety of ways – not just “kill” or “not”. And you’re not really given any indication that there’s a “right” or “wrong” answer. Just what your character would do.