The birth of Dirty Jack
Session 3 March 2024
Inside the wizard tower, we carefully examine the mud-stairs that Urm created. However, there are no traces left in the mud, leaving us with more questions than answers. Urm, ever the optimist, remarks on the quality of his mud, a small moment of levity amidst our investigations.
With the area yielding no further clues, we decide to vacate it and return to the base. Morph, appearing more like his usual self, is deep in thought, pondering the enigmatic responses from the question mark voice.
Back at the base, we settle in for some downtime. The dark mage retreats to his room to study, while Morph ambles around the base, lost in contemplation. Farryn begins tinkering with some contraption, his mind seemingly occupied with his own thoughts.
I take the opportunity to unload the contents of the party stash from my bag into Daylee’s room, ensuring its safety. Lost in my own musings about how to navigate my reduced wealth and still achieve my goals, I eventually retreat to my room for some solitude.
As evening falls, we gather for dinner, the atmosphere relaxed despite the lingering mysteries. I notice a small snake coiled around Morph’s arm, affectionately dubbed “Noodle.”
After dinner, we retreat into my rope trick. Nestled within the magical sanctuary, we discuss our plans to return to the Zhentarim, motivated by both the desire for loot and vengeance.
We contemplate the Braveheart plan, a strategy proposed by Morph. He suggests giving the Zhentarim a warning before launching a full-scale attack, aiming to minimize casualties and avoid descending into evil ourselves.
The idea is to approach from the air and cast a fireball spell as a warning shot. Then, we’ll create a message threatening consequences if they don’t evacuate, followed by a genuine attack.
The morality of this plan weighs heavily on us. While I struggle with the notion of sacrificing lives, especially innocent ones, the atrocities committed by the Zhentarim and their imprisonment of Farryn Flamel leave me torn.
Ultimately, I agree to the plan, recognizing the necessity of holding the Zhentarim accountable for their actions. We decide to prioritize neutralizing the elite army and leaders while allowing the lesser Zhentarim members to escape.
Farryn ponders our next steps as we continue our discussion. Amidst the planning, the dark mage reveals a tantalizing possibility—he may be able to transform into a dragon at some point in the future, sparking excitement among us.
As we prepare for the infiltration tomorrow, I express concern for Morph’s well-being, urging him to rest and regain his strength. He assures us that he can sleep in the base, readying himself for the challenging task ahead.
As tensions rise between Morph and Farryn, Morph asserts his importance in the mission, refusing to be belittled. With a swift transformation into a formidable goliath, he emphasizes the significance of his role, leaving Farryn slightly taken aback.
As Morph prepares to depart, he adopts a series of disguises, first as a Zhentarim agent named Jack, then as a woman with exaggerated features. The dark mage interjects, suggesting a more inconspicuous disguise, prompting Morph to adopt the persona of a man with a dirty voice and unkempt appearance.
With his pet snake Noodle also renamed, Morph sets off, his determination evident in his actions. However, the discrepancy in Noodle’s appearance prompts a reminder of Morph’s connection to the pet, a detail that cannot be easily concealed. So, Noodle is not coming with Morph, now Dirty Jack.
As we go over the plan once more, I prepare to provide aerial cover from above. There’s extensive deliberation on how to deal with the Zhentarim leaders, with suggestions ranging from a delayed fireball to employing spells like sickening radiance and anti-sympathy.
Morph relays a message about Zhentarim activity near the vault, indicating heightened security. Despite this, he has disabled the ballista and sabotaged another one. The dark mage proposes additional strategies, including the use of the rod of rulership to evacuate non-hostile Zhentarim members.
After ensuring everyone is well-prepared, we settle in for a long rest. Before sleeping, I distribute goodberries to Farryn, Patience, and the dark mage, ensuring they have sustenance for the coming day.
The next morning, we rise early, ready to execute our plan. Patience, displaying a disciplined demeanor, leads a concise review of the plan. With determination in our hearts, we embark on our journey, flying via the Sargoth level towards Skull Island, the stronghold of the Zhentarim.
As chaos erupts below, I maintain my position in the air, providing cover for the party while keeping a vigilant eye on the unfolding events. Patience’s preparation of the delayed fireball proceeds smoothly, and I use minor illusion to create a warning message for the Zhentarim, urging them to flee for their lives.
Suddenly, a figure approaches the site of the delayed fireball, seemingly unaware of the impending danger. I watch in horror as the fireball detonates, unleashing a massive explosion of fire and electricity, causing widespread devastation and destruction.
In the midst of the chaos, I spot bright purple blasts directed towards a ballista in the east, I know it’s a clear sign of Farryn’s involvement. The buildings caught in the explosion crumble into rubble, sending shockwaves through the Zhentarim base.
As panic grips the occupants of the base, with bells ringing and people shouting in alarm, I use my illusion to amplify the sense of urgency, urging them to flee to safety through the north and across the bridge. Amidst the confusion, everyone still tries to get to the explosion to help, but also parts of the crowd tries to flee.
From my vantage point in the sky, I observe Patience casting Hunger of Hadar on the rubble and collapsed buildings, likely aiming to eliminate any surviving elite Zhentarim forces trapped within.
“There are survivors, target them!” he shouts via the mind link, his voice urgent and determined.
Suddenly, from the midst of the rubble, a massive red creature emerges, effortlessly pushing aside the stones obstructing its path. My breath catches in my throat as I recognize the formidable figure as an Efreeti.
“It’s MORGATH,” Patience declares, his voice tinged with a mixture of apprehension and resolve. Another person stands up from beneath the rubble – the one who called the Efreeti.
As the tension mounts, the arbiter emerges from a nearby building, his presence adding an additional layer of gravity to the situation. With the arbiter’s appearance, it becomes evident that the Zhentarim leadership is actively monitoring the unfolding events in the south
No responses yet