The Night of a Hundred Swords: Taking the Temple of Bane

[Maecius]

The elves of Doron Amar gathered in battle formation, faces painted up with camouflage and bows and swords ready for blood. On one flank of the elven war party stood a contingent of paladins, resplendent in their gleaming armor, swords sharpened and readied for the day they thought might never come. They were to attack the Wood of Sharp Teeth's Temple of Bane.

Siomir Danneren commanded the elven war party, while Sir Jonas Rokranon and Aethor Siger led the Order of the Radiant Heart. Additional reinforcements were supplied by the Harpers and the local druidic circle -- there was also a representative from the Istari Tower. It was a massive party, but a massive party was precisely what was needed to challenge the power of the Lord of Darkness.

Meanwhile, at the Temple of Bane, largely unaware of the gathering army, the Zhentarim and their Banite associates were in a meeting, discussing matters both dark and mundane, as they planned for the days to come.

It was midway through this meeting when a Temple Guard interrupted the proceedings. "We're under attack! They've taken the gate!"

And outside, the fighting was indeed fierce. Both Temple Guard and undead summons were doing battle with the forces of good, the two sides smashing into each other with hateful enmity.

The Zhentarim's local leader sent forces to reinforce the Temple's defense; but knew immediately that it was bound to be a lost cause. Working with his associates, he took a drum -- a powerful artifact -- and began to activate it atop the altar of Bane. As Harpers and elves broke through the defenses, the Zhentarim agents and Banite priests worked together to defend their altar and their lives, while they set up the artifact. Suddenly, a portal to the Nine Hells flared open, and the Zhentarim, smiling, retreat to their dungeons, where they had a secret escape route for just this eventuality.

Just as the Banite cadre's core leaders slipped into the dungeons, the heroic forces of light pierced the temple's exterior wards and fought their way inside. Almost immediately they were beset upon by devils, of all shapes and sizes.

"WE MUST DESTROY THE PORTAL!" One of the heroes surmised, as it became clear that the devils would not stop, and that they would be overwhelmed.

Cassia Panima, an elven arcanist with the Istari Tower, swept in and cast a disjunction spell upon the artifact. It shouldn't have worked. Artifacts are not simply destroyed like that. But by luck or by skill, it did work. There was a thunderous CRACK!, and then the Temple nave filled with fire and ice and electrical energy, as the artifact exploded into a thousand shards.

Bloodied, but victorious, the heroes regrouped, then smashed the altar of Bane.

Downstairs, the Banite leadership was not idle. They laid dozens of traps to stall their pursuers, and then set up stacks of fused explosives. They charged their allies, many-eyed aberrations called "beholders," to cover their escape and then join them once they were clear of the cave. Then, with a push off the shore, they sailed away on an underground river, into a complicated series of caves and caverns.

Upstairs, the heroes were ambushed from behind by the arrival of two Zhentarim Black Cloaks and their coterie, and the fighting was as surprised and unexpected (on both sides) as it was fierce and ferocious. When the spell clouds cleared, the heroes were the only ones left standing. Healing their wounded, they set off after the escaped villains.

In the dungeons, explosions rocked the forces of good, throwing them against walls and floors, and filling the halls with fire and smoke. They fought valiantly against the many-eyed beholders, and cursed when they realized their true foes had escape. Searching the dungeons for prisoners, they found none. But even though they had wards protecting them from the gradually spreading flames, the acrid smoke was beginning to choke them out.

Pulling out of the temple, the forces of good celebrated their victory and tended their injured. The triumphal elation was short-lived, unfortunately, when one of the rangers of Doron Amar approached, seeking out Siomir. He informed the Lord Mayor in hushed tones that Doron Amar was under attack.

Siomir needed to hear no more, and with a rallying call, the forces of good rushed as fast as they could to the defense of their home.

There, in Doron Amar, a small defense party of elves and paladins had been doing battle against duergar soldiers and priests, as well as drow, for the entire duration of the Temple's siege. They were flagging, but under the leadership of Councilor Auriel Elenviel and her lieutenant, Sari'mil Danneren, they were able to continue the fighting and hold the bridge they'd set up upon.

Covered in blood and sweat, the forces of good came just in time to help the Doron Amar defense force fight off one final push of duergar soldiers. Finally, the battle was ended, and the duergar pulled off their attack. Their golden opportunity had passed, now that the war party had returned.

Elven scouts, including Captain Siveyn Silverarrow, and a non-elven wizard called Valerius, would later explain the duergar and their presence to the Councilors and Lord Mayor alike; but that is a story for another time. For now, the battle was ended: The forces of good had prevailed, finally taking the Temple of Bane, that dark bastion of evil. Moreover, the heroic efforts of the Doron Amar defense forces under Auriel Elenviel and Sari'mil Danneren managed to ensure the safety of the elven village and outpost, even when their enemies sought to take advantage of their vulnerability. It was a good day, and celebration followed the victory.

As for the Banites, and their Zhentarim allies? Well, they may have lost their temple, but their story was far from over ...

Oh, no, new opportunities presented themselves to those who had survived the siege. New opportunities and new patrons alike ...

So ends the story of "The Night of a Hundred Swords," with the Temple of Bane smoldering and abandoned, and a new morn dawning upon the Wood of Sharp Teeth.

[ OOC: Everyone who participated, on both sides, is welcome to add their own stories and reactions to this thread. I may have missed some details, and I've certainly missed some names, as there were just so many of you! ]

[ It was a blast to DM for you all -- with Mulciber and Hydrocarbonated -- and I'm sure we'd love to hear your IC responses to the event! Thanks again to everyone involved for making it an enjoyable night. ]

[rokranon]

The tall, silver-haired aasimar stood near the back of the assembled grouping after having spoken with the leader of this assault, Aethor Siger. Jonas had been through something similar before, and knew words would not be what led to success or failure this day. Although he had helped hatch the idea of this attack, the veteran knight had little desire to lead it. Some of his dearest friends had mirrored his own thoughts that he was in no shape mentally to take command of the gathered force. "A good leader knows when it is time to follow," he had told them only a few days prior. The hawk-like gaze of the paladin now followed Siomir as he took Auriel aside to speak to her. Odd.

Aethor made a speech, but Jonas was too preoccupied with the mission at hand to hear much of it. The inner rage that sometimes welled up inside him threatened to consume him now, but as was his way, Jonas kept it controlled just beneath the surface. "Righteous fury!" Rith'alaria called it before. This day he'd need every bit of the anger. This day, they were to march upon a bastion of the Lord of Darkness himself.

Some of the assembled were called upon to defend Doron Amar in case a counterattack was launched. Sari'mil, Lance, Vanira, Taric, a male elf Jonas didn't recognize, and, unknown to Jonas, Auriel. This left a fighting force comprised of Kald, Aethor, Siomir, Rith'alaria, Cassia, Madison, Thiago II, Vilith, Bre'teas, Rhys, Catam, Renec, Beatrix, Eldunir, Elisuna, Rai, Lanaya, Thedran, and Jonas to march upon the dark temple in the Wood of Sharp Teeth. The assault group methodically traveled from Doron Amar to areas of the wood infested with orcs. It was around here that Jonas realized Auriel wasn't with them. He'd promised Valerius to keep an eye on her. . .

From his position at the rearguard, Jonas moved back and forth between the flanks of the small army of Light, helping as needed. They were beset by a mixed group of undead abominations and temple guards. The fighting was fierce, but this was one of the most deadly group of allies Jonas had ever seen assembled. Without thinking, the knight brought his gold and silver accented warhorn and let out a bellowing blast as the group pushed through the front door.

The fighting inside was fierce against baatezu from the Nine Hells themselves. Spells flew from the center as the mages worked the Weave. The devils seemed to be pouring out of a portal in the middle of the room. At shouted instructions over the din of combat to bring the portal down, Cassia's disjunction collided with an artifact, a drum it appeared to Jonas. The thing blew apart, and the group quickly searched surrounding rooms. Finding only a few guardians to fight, the entire force came back to the central chamber and were ambushed by powerful Zhentarim forces. They were dispatched without much adieu by many blades, and then Thedran and Jonas watched the room warily as the frontline set to destroying the altar.

Moving downstairs, the group found the beholders. They had been expecting these from the intelligence gathered. Kald and the scout group made short work of them. At the end of the hallway, Kald yelled for the group to run as an explosion shook the structure and flames erupted around everyone. Contrarily, Thedran ran into the room ahead. A ridiculous amount of explosive barrels had been left. A trap. The Banite leaders had escaped. Jonas' anger seethed, but now wasn't the time to worry about that. The lives of everyone assembled were at stake.

The entire cache of barrels blew asunder. In Thedran's face. Although many were protected by fire wards, many were not, and Jonas and Renec healed quickly as the group pushed forward. The group fanned out to search the dungeon, but Jonas knew there was nothing to search for. People were looking close to passing out from smoke inhalation. Jonas' own chest was searing with every breath, but he ignored it. "Aethor, get them out." His fellow knight signaled a retreat, and the party retreated upstairs as quickly as possible. Jonas tossed Eli over his shoulder as the elven bard seemed unable to go on. Renec was barely able to stagger on himself. Upstairs, near the entrance to the temple, there was some argument about who would be last out. "I'm last. Move. Your. Arse." Despite this, Thedran and Kald were last out.

Outside, everyone was trying to recover, but word from Doron Amar proved dire. The community was under attack. Despite their fatigue, the entire group ran through the woods back to the settlement. They collided with Duergar at the bridge into Doron Amar, providing some relief for the taxed defenders who had remained under the leadership of Auriel and Sari'mil. The day was a victory, but as Jonas' eyes turned upon his old friend Auriel, who had expended too much of herself healing and looked close to collapse, he remembered those who had escaped, and realized he'd just have to settle for a stalemate. Pushing that out of his mind, the knight scooped up the elven knight who was among his best friends, and carried her quickly to the chapel for medical aid, struggling to hide how much his burned lungs were bothering him.

[Oarthias]

Before the time arrived for everyone to gather to Doron Amar her mentor appeared out of the shadows telling her to follow him. Her feet followed him now as they always did when he instructed. It puzzled her why this gruff elf had taken her under his wing but she was thankful; he was tough and expected much of her pushing her to fine tune her skills and tactics. Today was no exception; today he was pushing her just as hard if not harder so that she might survive the battle in the coming hours. For this she respected him even more then she did already.

The elf made her practice again and again rushing at trolls; waiting for the moment they blink to slip into the shadows. As their ugly faces turned to what one could interpret as a look of confusion she moved out of the shadow with her blades cutting hard into the trolls hide. Her next move was to make it think she was going to one thing but then turn her body and strike at it again with a completely different attack taking it by surprise before slipping back into the shadows. Again and again he had her repeat the maneuvers until it was time for them to make their way to the others. When she sheathed her blades he thrust a bag into her arms; telling her she was to use the items the bag contained without hesitation and ordered her to try not to die. She assured him that her intentions were to live through the battle. He slipped back into the shadows but her feet let her know that they got the very distinct impression that if she didn't do as instructed they were sure he'd likely stab them. She had to agree with her feet on that matter... neither of them wanted any toes lopped off.

..........

She looked at those gathered to head off to siege and destroy the tower or bane and her heart ached for them. It was true, being newer to these lands, that she did not know most of them. There were a few faces though that in this short time she had grown rather fond of. Events like that which was about to occur always meant that some of those going in would not return. She listened to them speak quietly to each other, some were nervous but those were few and far between most of the others viewed this event to be no more like any other adventure. It seemed here in this moment very few feared or even worried about the hovering presence of death. To this elf though.. death was a very real possibility lurking and ready to grab any who did not take care.

While she read the look of disappointment on a few faces of those that would remain behind in the city to keep watch for any of those that might take advantage of a city that was empty of most of it's defenders... she was in part relieved. She did not know if she was ready to face such a battle. Not because she felt she lacked confidence in her combat abilities but mentally she wasn't sure if she would be able to drown out the screams of the past and keep focused when others would be depending on her. A century had past since that battle and the torturous events that happened after; those were scars that would be with her till her own death. Very few survive such an elven bond being broken to begin with and to have to feel what they did to him before his life finally gave out was madding... it was only the voice of her feet that kept her moving for a very long time.

She listened to those that remained speak of strategies of where to hold and fall back to if it came to that. Some of these she knew and took comfort in their presence while others she had never met before. They instructed her to fall in line as an archer. She filled her quiver with enchanted arrows that would rival a farmers basket during wheat harvest... and still more arrows she lightly placed into the ground in front of her ready to grab if the quiver was to fall empty. Archery was not her true strength but it was what was asked of her, what she was needed to do to protect the place she now called home.

The elf stood ready covered in the protective enchantments that her mentor had given her earlier and her bow in hand with an arrow already notched. Ranger scouts came and left with reports and warnings that they would not be able to keep all that came from reaching our position on the bridge. Time moved rapidly and slowly all at once. The enemies hollered and charged thinking the city would be an easy prey. The group stood firm and ready for the impact of the clashing of swords. Her arrows flew in a blur, the closer they got the deeper the arrows sank into them causing a few to fall before any blades could bite. The bodies of the dead began to pile up while many tumbled into the river below as well; has she been able to stop and think she would have been repulsed but such a gruesome scene.

Swarms of all kinds of enemies came at them in what seemed to be unending waves. There was little time to rest but they did take advantage of they could to heal up. Everyone of them worked together and followed orders save for the one elf who kept rushing off alone into the thick of enemy. She hoped that it would not be one of her arrows that killed him or a fireballs from the wand she used at her hip at those enemies that stayed just out of reach of her arrows. The foolishness of his actions would not stop her from doing her task as she must though even if it did come at that cost of his life. Her focus must remain on scanning for the best tactical targets and taking them out so those who were fighting with blades could keep focused on their part of the battle; there was simply no time to be wasted watching for a single foolish elf.

She held her own and when others fell she made sure she dropped her bow and unsheathed her blades for a short time so that the healer could aid them enough to get them back up and fighting. Surprising to her a few words escaped her lips shouting out a few orders to those around her; words that were once shouted out from another time and place. Her feet screamed at her to keep focused on the now and she rushed back to her bow as those with steal rushed back to their places. Her mentor now joined them with news from those that fought in the forest just outside our home. She handed him back the bag so that he could recover himself with the enchantments from the wands within before the next attacking wave reached them.

Silent again she focused and was terrified to see what came out of the trees next. The twisted beings that were supposedly once elves long ago. They were the monsters of her nightmares; those that she feared the most above anything else... Dhaerow. She swore oaths that would likely shock even the most seadest scoundrel. Her feet at the same time screamed for her to keep focused and helped guide her arrows to wear they needed sink in between their protective armor. The elf did not run like she wanted to... she stood firm not so others would notice or to make a name for herself but to simply protect her home and her people.

The dhaerow fell and soon were buried under the bodies of the other creatures that came rushing in after them. The attack continued, but not for long, after the others returned from their own battle at the tower. Horns blew in the distance and the enemy retreated back to their cowardly homes. This battle was over but her mentor whispered close to her ear that it was part of something bigger and that they would speak of it later.

Everyone stayed alert for a time and then slowly people began to slip off in twos. Not an uncommon sight for those that have seen battles or rough adventures in the past. It was something she once took part in herself but she had no desire for such tonight. To her own surprise her mentor was eager to leave the coupling occurrence far behind as well and told her that they should make sure she had the proper supplies for such events in the future. Uncomfortably quiet they both walked as he guided her to the places in which where the best supplies could be bought. He instructed her on what items would lend the most aid and where they could be had for the best prices. After he made sure she was resupplied he slipped off into the shadows.

She returned home to Doron Amar and put on her well practiced composed face conversing with those that still lingered about. She only did so long enough to remain polite and to check on news of the other battle as well as those she was fond of. It was only then when she slipped into her makeshift tent on the outskirt edges of their home that she allowed herself to release all the fear she had felt and cry. The tears not just for the days battle but those that she had held in for a century for a battle fought so long ago. Those tears went uninterrupted till there were no more as even her feet remained silent and still for this much needed release.