I fully agree, there are no switches to fix a brain.  Physical wounds are one thing; mental and emotional are quite another.  You get the scarring, you get the coping, the blockign away, and so on.

But take Kithran, who has been brainwashed a couple of months now.  What if there were some way to give her true clarity, absolute truth that she had been tortured and broken and filled with lies that she had grabbed onto in order to survive?  If she could reject the new reality (D'hurgen is my pal, this is the right thing to do, etc), could she get on the road to recovery? 

So sorry to disappoint you with SURVIVAL, Brom! 

Somebody needs to enlighten me.

How is Aranwen classless?  I don't see that she has done anything to lose her class abilities.  Her blade was dishonored by surrendering it... she did not retrieve it.  She's done nothing but fight gallantly, putting everyone else ahead of herself.  Yes, she broke her vow to always protect Kith, but no one in Audalis would hold her to that (except, obviously, herself)... there was literally nothing she could have done. 

It seems to me that rescuing/redeeming Kith - or killing her to save the world - would be the appropriate pennance. 

then again, I'm a selfish DM. 

I really, really hurt for Aranwen.  I really do. 

Bree and I have had all sorts of conversations about healing in a fantasy world.  If wounds can be healed without a thought, if the dead can be brought back to life, if magic can be used to break minds in a way not possible in the real world... is there no magic to help heal minds?  Not a snap of the fingers, but no way to help show a litle truth, help find the path to redemption?

I find Aranwen to be one of the most compelling characters I have ever read.  I hate to lose her.

I don't want to step on any toes.  But as soon as Bree brought up the idea of brainwashing, the idea of turning this into a campaign has been screaming in my head. 

You have your big plot already - save the world, durr. 

But what a COMPELLING story it would be to see how Aranwen and Ch'dau go forward from here with their family broken by this. 

The betrayal is real to everyone, obviously.  It just seems so obvious that the surviving party members would stick together and try to find Kith.  Though... how does that go?  "Hi Kith, we brought you a coat hanger!"  Eeesh.

Maybe recruit another player or two.  Obviously, Bree needs a new character to warp me with...

So, funny you should mention "what is to come". 

This game was always, always intended to be a stand alone adventure.  A one shot deal, the party stops the death cult and saves the world - or dies trying.

And then, Bree came along and wrecked it all by taking the twisted darkness and ramping it up exponentially. 

The party failed to stop the death god from being conceived.  Can they stop him from being born?

If there is interest, I will post a recruitment thread for Hidden Corruption 2: Electric Boogaloo.

Okay, the title is still in review. 

Reralae, I didn't mean to ninja you.  I can delete my post, let you post, add mine back.

There you go, folks. 

A story ten years in the making.  A game itself than ran for fourteen and a half months (with a chunk of that blank due to my flaking). 

A tale that ended up in places I had never imagined it would - let alone COULD - go. 

Thank you all so very much for your fantastic play here. 

22nd Pfier (Merday), 453 E.R.
Gates of the village of Crandel

"Tha's tha, then," Captain Malk stated flatly.  "Gods protec' us,"  The captain made a sign to ward off evil as as spoke, "and ye as well.  Wilf 'ere 'as some provisions fer yer trip; Mort winnae 'ear of takin' a single falchon fer tha lot.  Safe travels to ya."

The "monkey" Ch'dau had placed in command of the remnants of the town guard had done an altogether fine job overseeing improvements in the defenses of Crandel, and appeared to have grown to fit the role of Captain just fine.  They had apparently beaten back another incursion of undead while the party was underground, but in the weeks since, the roads had cleared.

As had the sky; the accursed mist was gone.  The sun was shining (quite brightly in late summer, as a matter of fact), the birds were singing.  All seemed well with the world.

Indeed, it all seemed like it could have been a bad dream, had the companions not lived it together.

Some might have considered Ch'dau lucky, as the big kazari had missed the collapse of the temple in his unconscious state.  Any hope of pursuing Davena had died when the ceiling collapse blocked the door she had escaped through... and then, things got truly bad. 

The shades released from the shattered repository had run amuck through the temple, slaying the living and undead alike in an utterly indiscriminate manner, with their touch melting the very flesh away while the victim died in agony.  The horrible wailing as they did so was the stuff to stand out in nightmares about that nightmare place; it is quite possible that no one would ever have been able to forget them.  By Shinara's fortune (or perhaps Solanis' favor, or Therassor's grace, or simple dumb luck), the shades ignored the party altogether, seemingly intent on - or content with - killing every cultist in the cave.

Of course, the earthquake itself had been terrifying enough; as the shades killed, the temple shook itself apart.  Some were spared death from the shades only to be crushed by tons of rock and stone.

Again, it was as if the party were held in the palm of a benevolent hand; no stone struck them, though they fell all around.  In the end, all exits to the temple had been blocked, the entire place had been plunged into utter darkness.  It took the better part of two weeks to dig fully out, though at least the clerics were able to obtain sustenance from their deities for the party while the work went on. 

Eventually, they emerged to the sunlight, but no trace of Davena or Kithran was to be found. 

One surviving cultist had almost gleefully told the tale during the digging, explaining the plan to bring the dark god into the world through the abomination of a baby created by a melding of life and death.  If Kithran had indeed conceived that night, the risk to the very world was very real... and very grave, indeed. 

It was unclear how many cultists died that night, or how many might have escaped; save the one survivor happy to tell his tale, the party encountered no other living (or undead) from the cave.

Unless, of course, some had escaped to Crandel and resumed normal lives.

********************************************

Kithran lounged, naked, in the afterglow of the special connection she shared with Davena while the dying sunlight filtered through the curtains.  The soft bed and fine sheets were just part of the perfection of this day.  The beautiful blonde woman, full healed from her injuries received that fateful night, smiled tenderly at her younger partner. 

Davena smiled, slipped her necklace off, and placed it onto Kithran's belly. Her crooked grin stretched into a wide smile as her eyes danced with delight.  Enthusiastically, she kissed Kithran in celebration.

The stone glowed a vibrant gold.

THE END

Wasn't there a breebles post here? 

Fine, be that way. 

I do have a "the end, part two" post to put up.  I'd like to allow everyone else the existential terror of reading this one as well, though, if you don't mind. 

You guys want an unambiguous ending or something now? 

Ya'll are so needy, you know that? 

How had it all gone so wrong?

The companions had come to this place of horror to end the threat of the death cult.  Two of the party were literally channels of the power of righteous gods.  Two of them were skilled, powerful warriors.  The enemy had taken their friend captive, but fate had intervened, given them a chance to free her from the clutches of evil.  Surely, righteousness would prevail, especially in the face of discord between factions of the evil.

Yet here they stood, bloodied and battered, struggling desperately just to survive.  And their friend, their very family, casually wiped the blood of her betrayal off of her blade as she helped the leader of all the evil to safety. 

Ever true to his vows to life and to his own nature, Cedric passed on the chance to deal a killing blow to Davena, instead rushing to Ch'dau's side.  The mighty kazari lay in a huge pool of his own lifeblood, his eyes open and fixed, his form utterly motionless.  Despair squeezed the priest's heart with an icy grip as Cedric knelt in his friend's blood, praying desperately to Solanis for the boon of healing from the god of light and life.  The utter stillness of the furry form indicated that Cedric was too late, even as the young man placed his hands on the warrior's side, praying desperately as he had never prayed before.  Cedric knew that he could channel the power of his god to knit back torn flesh, to mend broken bones... but if life itself had fled, there was nothing he could do.

Then, he saw it - two shallow, rapid breaths.  Fish breathing, he had once heard it called.  The final, shallow gasps made by the dying, once the soul had come to peace with the end of life, but the body had not yet realized that fact. 

Cedric didn't know if the healing would matter, but he had to try.

The wound beneath the young priest's fingers responded to the god's influence and closed, the bleeding stopped.  For several long moments, Ch'dau lay perfectly still. 

And then, the furry chest began a rhythmic rise and fall.  Cedric looked to the face, and Ch'dau's eyes were closed.  The big warrior was unconscious... but alive.

*****************************************

The drama on the dais does not interrupt the fighting, which rages on all across the temple.  Davena's removal from the fight seems to turn the tides, and Garrack's followers begin to win the day.  The death priest has assembled a group of his most loyal followers and is pressing the dais. 

"Davena!" he cries as they advance.  "Your time has arrived!"

Kithran has helped the blonde priestess to her feet, but the older woman is having difficulty moving quickly.  One of Garrack's acolytes rushes in, only to be run through by the rogue. 

The cultist wizard shakes free of his hold, chants, and a curved wall of dark energy springs forth between them and the rest of the temple. 

"Mistress," he implores, "this will hold them for a few moments, but I have little more I can do to prevent their advance.  We must flee!"

The priestess nods, a thoughtful look on her face.  "Above all else, Ledon, I must ensure that the Vessel is safe.  She glances at Kithran, then to the crystalline container standing between the two bodies on the ground.  She then looks back to the mage.

"The two of us will flee," Davena explains in a tone that brooks no discussion.  "You will shatter the soul repository."

A look of terror passes across the mage's features, but a serene mask slips into place as he replies.  "It will be my honor, Mistress."

*****************************************

Gib slays the last of the cultists preventing his path, reaches his companions.  Aranwen slowly shakes off the funk.  Ch'dau still lies on the ground, with Cedric by his side. 

The cultists loyal to Garrack pound upon the wall of energy.  At first, it seems pointless to do so, but visible cracks begin to form, and they redouble their efforts.

The spell fails, the energy wall falls away to reveal the black-robed mage, staff in hand.  Kithran and Devena are nowhere to be seen, though a door stands open in the wall behind the mage. 

The mage swings his staff with all of his might at the crystalline container; as he does, Garrack screams "Noooooo!"

A crack sounds out as the stave strikes the skull on the repository.  A bolt of purplish energy flashes along the staff, into the wizard; in moments, his flesh literally melts from his body, with him somehow scraeming long after the physical ability to do so should have been ended.

The ground begins to shake, the altar splits in half as if struck by an unseen axe.  Huge pieces of the ceiling, of solid rock, begin to fall as keening, howling wails erupt from the broken repository... followed by dark shades of human forms that streak in all directions.  Everywhere they go, bodies fall to the ground.

In the chaos of death and destruction, the world comes to an end.

The "until the birth of the death god, who manifested and destroyed the world as we know it" does make that a longer sentence.

Monday has been tough, but a post is in the works...

I do this every year, am doing it again this year... though today is the last day to get a letter and have it routed through Santa Calus, IN for the postmark. 

If you have kids or know someone who does, please check this out (or send them the link)!

Presactly.  And truth be told, it was better for him to not give details, anyway.  Let them believe they are rushing to save their suffering comrade.

Think about it; evil cultist mentality probably just leaves an ally behind if said ally had gone to the other side.  Why would he risk the party doing the same, when he needed the muscle to help overthrow Davena?

All correct points. 

And to be fair, he'd have confirmed she was alive, little more.  It wouldn't have helped his cause to let you guys know she was broken.

I expected somebody to say somthing.  Never happened. 

You guys keep trying to expand my musical horizons!

I personally think that a Bladesinger who dies honorably in battle has not dishonored thier blade, even though it hits the ground.  To the contrary, I could see these blades beig held as relics, perhaps passed down to those worthy enough to bear them. 

To me, that's the exception to the rule.  If the blade touches the ground through your lack of skill, your lack of strength, your lack of fortune... then it is dishonored, and that is that.  If it touches the ground due to your death - particularly if you died well, for a good cause - then you have honored it with every fiber of your being, have you not?

What a good girl Kithran is. 

Someone is angling for extra priviledges!

I completely understand why Gib is thinking/hoping there is some spell to be broken to free Kith. 

As you can see, it's not remotely that simple. 

It does help explain WHY Kithran was chosen, if that helps ease any of your minds.