SESSION 1
New Safeton
Patchwall, 568 CY.
New Safeton, nearly overrun by the hosts of Pomarj during the Greyhawk Wars, now lures tourists and adventurers with the boast, “Still Standing.” On arrival, my colleague and I assisted at the docks with offloading cargo and weapons imported from Greyhawk foundries and made some honest coin in a day’s labor.
The respectable mayor of this ramshackle is one Thelra Brey, an old battlewagon adventuress who doubtlessly holds her office thanks to the influence of the gynarchy of nearby Hardby where women conduct the governance for the amusement of capricious gods.
By trick of fate (I blame my half-orc colleague and business partner, Phillipa the Long-Fingered, who continues to follow me around in vain hope that I am her means to wealth and respectability), I have either volunteered or been volunteered (I forget exactly how it transpired) for a mission to investigate a nearby farmstead from which three children vanished in a fire.
You might suppose nothing unusual in three children vanishing in a barn fire, but one of the vanished, a small daughter named Sera, did return most mysteriously, clutching some arcane and eldritch artifact, a shard of black stone with uncanny properties which is now safely in my own possession.
In the company of a sullen warrior elf (Kaz) from district unknown who only wants a backpack to carry his who-knows-what, and also a pious dwur father and devotee of Pelor (yes, I know, a sun-loving dwarf!), we conducted an interview of the child and the mother of the child where they shelter in a local hostel. Not sure if there was a husband, and I forgot to ask.
This woman, Ellia Holloway, presented her daughter to us. The child suffers under some devilshine and, with a scribbet in hand, draws out arcane runes and patterns of a summoner’s art. A nasty business that! Bit of a fire hazard, if you ask me.
She speaks only of a “flame creature in the barn” and moans of “the flames below,” “the sleeper in the ash,” “the cinder lord,” “the forgotten fire,” and other devilish gibberish and nonsense, but this much was enough to inspire Father Dwur the Bright Hearted to connect the matter with the ancient Cinder Cult, which was apparently a local thing some generations ago. I suspect some relationship with Elemental Evil, and perhaps even the cult that once flourished out of the temple by that name near the village of Homlet.
Father Dwur acquired for us a fragmentary text that, among other matters of tedium, records history and worship of the Cinder Swarm cult and the adoration of what I supposed to be a djinn or flame elemental or perhaps a demon of similar flamboyance. I ascertained from my perusal of arcane text that, like so many of these doomsday cults (by Boccob, I cannot imagine why anyone would want to join such a cheerless fraternity) that the Cinder Swarm looked forward to that future happy day when “all things must be refined in blaze.” There was also some scribble about a Helm of Selnor (no doubt a powerful magical helmet destined to grant me the power to command and control fire elementals) and how certain broken shards of an artifact must be reunited to release the flame. Everyone needs a goal, I suppose.
That last item explains the shard already in my possession. It’s evocative of the legend of the three theoparts that, if reunited, release the slumbering one who must not be named (Tharizdun! Come and get me!) so that he can undo all time and space, which may or many not be advantageous, depending on one’s current predicament. The tome also contained various Suel incantations (Ash Mouths, Kindlers, various binding spells) and formulas for releasing or summoning or commanding the Cinder Swarm or what-have-you. These spells (I hardly need tell you), I have carefully copied into my spellbook—even if they are beyond my reading level, they might prove useful one day.
At the end of the day, a very good day! Sold some swords, which makes me a sell-sword after all! Made some coin. Acquired some cursed culty artifact and some evil spells. Now with the prospect of earning a significant reward. New Safeton has treated us well today.
Greyhawk Stories 