Iron Flask Dragon vs Dracolich
Session 2 June 2024
Farryn’s voice cuts through the tense atmosphere. “Are there ways to keep ourselves sane from the influences of the far realm?”
Melissara considers the question. “Well, we live at the edge of the far realm, so we are still able to cope. But inside it, there are no ways to keep sane. The only advice I have is to hold on to what makes you… you.”
Farryn nods thoughtfully, then asks, “What about Halaster’s castle? Some creature there eats adventurers alive?”
“Oh dear, I wouldn’t know,” Melissara replies. “I only know there is a portal to Halaster’s tower deep in the far realm. The tower itself is not in the far realm. Halaster finds it interesting that we’re housed here. Everyone he allows here is played mind games with.”
Morph chimes in, “Does Halaster want to take over Waterdeep?”
Melissara nods. “Yes, Mecha Halaster—with Arcturia and Trobirant. Arcturia is often near Halaster in his tower.”
Farryn inquires about the location of Melissara’s pendant. “It’s in the treasury downstairs. Desmir and the others are very paranoid, and they control the treasury.”
“And a safe route to get there?” Farryn asks.
“Nothing is safe,” Melissara warns.
Morph grins and asks, “Can I impersonate you and borrow a dress?”
Melissara hesitates but then concedes. “It could be an option, but my cousins see through all disguises. They have true sight.”
Morph waves a hand dismissively. “These are real transformations, not mere disguises.” He pulls up a cloth, transforming into Melissara and undresses. “Where is the dress?” he asks.
Melissara walks to her closet and returns with a dress. “Here,” she says, handing it over.
Morph, now looking exactly like Melissara, asks me to hold up the cloth as he changes. I fly up, holding the cloth aloft, feeling a bit awkward but knowing it’s necessary.
“Thank you,” Morph (as Melissara) says, smoothing the dress. “I’ll take us to the Shadowdusks downstairs.”
The real Melissara wishes us luck. “Be careful.”
“We will,” I promise, feeling a surge of determination. We thank Melissara and Darion and exit the room.
As we move deeper into the stronghold, I can’t shake the feeling of being watched. The whispers and unsettling aura intensify with each step. Morph, leading the way as Melissara, strides confidently. Farryn, the dark mage, and the rest of us follow closely.
Every torch we pass flares to life, casting flickering shadows on the marble walls. The tension in the air is palpable. I can’t help but think of the far realm’s influence seeping into everything here. I grip my weapons tighter, ready for whatever might come next.
Farryn glances at me, concern etched on his face. “Do you need any more healing or strength?” he asks.
I blink in surprise. “No, I’m okay for now,” I reply, grateful for his concern but determined to push forward.
We head downstairs, with Morph (disguised as Melissara) leading the way. The descent feels endless, and I can feel a mental pressure building in my head, the far realm’s influence gnawing at my mind. To stay strong, I ask Farryn to join Grond, our steadfast companion. Morph takes the lead, followed by me and Farryn on Grond, with the dark mage closing our ranks. The dark mage’s pendant, his manifest mind, flies ahead of us, scouting the way.
In the next room, we spot Will-o-Wisps, their eerie glow casting unsettling shadows on the walls. The dark mage informs us that these Wisps are talking to his manifest mind, likely the spirits of past adventurers killed by the death knights. I hear the echoing of Morph’s heels and the heavy steps of Grond.
One of the Will-o-Wisps floats toward Morph, its light flickering. “Melissara, who are you bringing here? New sacrifices for Arcturia?” it asks.
Morph, quick on his feet, responds, “Yes, yes. I’m a bit hazy; can you tell me where I need to be?”
The Wisp whispers, “Yes, go downstairs. The more the merrier…”
We descend further, sticking to our plan: avoid conflict and head for Halaster’s tower. Morph, as Melissara, serves as our distraction. We decide to pretend to be supporters of taking over Waterdeep. I quietly tell Farryn to remove his golden cauldron ring, a symbol of his true allegiance. I remove my pin as well.
Morph then casts a spell to locate the dracolich rumored to be on this level. We deduce that the dracolich is in the southwest, likely protecting a hoard. Knowing that liches have phylacteries, we agree to find and destroy the dracolich and then locate its phylactery.
As we walk down the corridor, the Will-o-Wisps tell their tragic stories, revealing they truly are the spirits of fallen adventurers. The dark mage’s pendant moves with them, heading toward their master, Vertrand.
Finally, we step into a gigantic hall. The grandeur of the space is overwhelming. In the center of the hall, a bronze plate embedded in the ground bears the symbol of the Shadowdusks. The air is thick with the weight of history and danger.
The dark mage halts just before entering the room, his manifest mind having drifted too far away. “My manifest mind is in another room,” he explains. “The distance between us is too great. He’s fetching someone to meet him now.”
As we wait, the dark mage relays that his manifest mind showed Vertrand an image of the original Halaster, from before he went mad. At the moment, the manifest mind is pretending to be a Will-o-Wisp. Soon, the dark mage recalls his manifest mind back to us, ready to proceed.
We approach the door across the hall. “The blue dracolich is likely behind this door,” the dark mage warns. “Expect lightning damage in a straight line from its breath weapon.”
Farryn suddenly grows to an imposing size, a spell enhancing his stature. I dip an arrow in drow poison, ready for anything.
Morph takes a deep breath and opens the door.
We step into a large, round room supported by four pillars. Bones lie scattered around one pillar, ominously resembling a dragon. As Morph crosses the threshold, the bones begin to move, coalescing into the terrifying form of a dracolich.
The dracolich’s eyes glow with malevolent intelligence. “Melissara,” it growls, addressing Morph in his disguise. “What are you doing here?”
Morph, quick on his feet, responds, “I brought guests.”
“Guests?” the dracolich hisses.
“These people are here to make your life easier,” Morph adds, a sly tone in his voice.
“I think you must say that your guests are back THERE, and not HERE,” the dracolich retorts, its voice dripping with suspicion.
Morph improvises, “Oh… it has been a while since you’ve played games with me…”
“Well, I got some new friends to play with,” Morph continues, producing a flask from his pocket.
It’s the iron flask containing the ancient red skeletal shadow dragon. For the next hour, this dragon will be our ally.
Morph, still in his Melissara guise, mounts the skeletal shadow dragon. “What is this? IN MY OWN LAIR?!” the dracolich roars, furious.
In a flash, the dracolich attacks. A single devastating blast of its lightning breath weapon sears the air. The door slams shut, leaving the dark mage, Farryn, and me trapped in the hallway. Inside, Morph, riding the skeletal shadow dragon, faces the dracolich alone.
The dark mage grabs my shoulder and uses Dimension Door to teleport us into the room. “Prepare, Gwen!” he commands, and I ready my arrow of dragon slaying. The moment we reappear, I let my arrow fly, but it narrowly misses the dracolich. “CRAP!” I mutter as my other arrows also miss their mark.
“DESTROY THE PILLARS!” the dark mage shouts before diving for cover. I’m momentarily frozen, awestruck by the dracolich’s terrifying majesty. “HOLY SMOKES,” I breathe, shaking off the paralysis.
Morph commands the shadow dragon, which envelops the dracolich in swirling shadows. The two dragons clash fiercely, tails lashing and wings flapping. Morph, still disguised as Melissara, draws his sword and fires four beams at different pillars.
Regaining my focus, I aim at a pillar already weakened by Morph’s attack and release an arrow. It hits, causing the pillar to crumble and the glyphs to dim. The dragons continue their battle, tails slamming into each other.
The dark mage conjures a massive BANG, and moments later, Farryn appears. The dracolich unleashes its lightning breath, hitting both the shadow dragon and Morph, who is knocked out of his disguise and slides down the dragon’s back. I shoot another pillar, destroying it.
The shadow dragon’s tail and the dracolich’s bones clash violently. The dark mage casts Healing Word on Morph, who groans and gets back into the fight. “Okay, guys, going great with the pillars!” the dark mage encourages us.
The dracolich notices him and swings its tail in a furious arc. Our red shadow dragon smashes the last pillar to bits and then breathes shadows at the dracolich, inflicting visible damage for the first time.
Farryn joins the fray, his dwarven thrower hammering the dracolich. The dragons’ tails strike again. “Holy smokes, these dragons are capable of destroying us all, but they are so awesome!!” I think, my heart pounding.
The dracolich strikes back several times, scratching the shadow dragon, but it could’ve been worse. Cracks appear in the dracolich’s bones. Morph, bloodied, leans on Corvax across the room from me. Suddenly, a rainbow of light erupts from the dracolich in a Prismatic Spray, but it doesn’t hurt us. The dracolich laughs, flapping its wings and causing some of my party to fall prone.
I shoot twice more, planting my hunter’s mark first. My arrows strike true, dealing significant damage. The red shadow dragon finishes off the dracolich with a final, powerful attack.
With the dracolich defeated, we open the next door to reveal piles and piles of gold. Before we can celebrate, Farryn insists on retrieving Grond. He opens another door and sees two wraiths attacking Grond.
We barely have time to react before the wraiths turn their malevolent gaze towards us, ready for another battle.
No responses yet