Skip to content

Dunmari Frontier - Session 129

Desperate Pleas: in which grave danger threatens Aurbez

Featuring: Delwath, Kenzo, Wellby, Seeker
In Taelgar: Jul 05, 1749 DR to Aug 07, 1749 DR
On Earth: Monday Aug 11, 2025
Location: Chardon, Aurbez Plateau, and the Plaguelands

After reshaping Chardon’s chalyte order, the party receives a desperate plea for aid from Marcella, teleports to the Aurbez Plateau, scouts an ash‑shrouded hobgoblin host, and learns of the Empress of Chaos’s plan to spear the plateau’s secret heart.

Session Info

Summary

  • News of Dhrukmir’s death and the opening of a new chalyte source triggered sweeping reforms in Chardon: the Magistros chartered the Imperial Chalyte Mining Company, seized refineries, and created the Chalyte Refining Corporation.
  • Kenzo and Delwath engaged in tense negotiations to ensure rights for chalyte workers and fair positions in the leadership of the Chalyte Refining Corporation, while Seeker researched information about the Elemental Plane of Fire and Wellby got back in touch with his halfling roots.
  • Weeks later, Sura’s urgent message drew the party east; they teleported to the marshes of the upper Aursen to aid Marcella.
  • Night recon as great eagles led to an ash cloud masking a 400‑foot-long, shifting‑metal centipede behemoth venting ash and carrying thousands of Hobgoblins; a silver‑clad commander radiated a reality‑warping aura.
  • An invisible ambush at the column’s tail dropped two riders; the party seized one with telekinesis and escaped via teleport before the commander could pinpoint them.
  • Magical interrogation of the captured hobgoblin, Szoltár, revealed the Empress of Chaos’s design: a Chaos Spear to pierce the plateau’s secret heart, harness Isingue’s magic and control the ooze titan, and then break the March of Andonne and consume the lands to the north and west.

Timeline

Narrative

Our session begins among the shattered remains of Dhrukmir’s lair, the dead body of the massive titan and his discarded, chalyte-studded club scattered across ruined buildings, as ogres flee and chaos reigns. In a circle of calm around the Dunmar Fellowship, Brunnar of the stone giants speaks for those now free of Dhrukmir’s rule: his people would disperse, some heading east across the Myraeni Gap and others finding into solitary holds in Ulgrathar. They only asked only to be left alone. Seeker gathered chalyte shards, and the party retreated to Vindristjarna, where Octavia Antussus was preparing to depart for Argento to bring the Chardonian Legion to secure the chalyte mines, while Tristan Brighteyes prepared to travel across the mountains and make contact with the Chardonian Navy in Darba.

That evening, Kenzo spoke to the Magistros by dream-message, seeking guarantees that the power of the Chalyte Oligarchs of Chardon would be broken and their land turned over to him, as promised. The Magistros answered with his gambit against the Curia of 42, claiming the monopoly rights over chalyte refining for the new Chalyte Refining Corporation, to be jointly controlled by the chalyte worker’s guilds and the Windcallers. It would take time, he said, for plans to be settled, but he was eager to begin. The next morning, the party set off for Chardon in Vindristjarna, to lend their weight to the work.

Vindristjarna arrived in Chardon a few days later to find a city in flux. The Magistros had already proclaimed the formation of the Imperial Chalyte Mining Company with monopoly rights in the Chataan Mountains. Soon after, the Patelios and Veldari families were convicted of bribery, all their properties seized, while the scions of the families fled north to Voltara. The Auratan and Caloren refineries were confiscated as punishment for allowing Fausto to gain control of the chalyte market. The Magistros, now holding significant fractions of the land in the Basin and some land in the Riverside Quarter, concluded his deal with Kenzo, leaving Kenzo the owner of a large swath of mostly-ruined land in the Ragwater Basin, and several large blocks of falling-down slums along the Chasa River in the Riverside Quarter.

Weeks of work followed. Kenzo shuttled between Windcallers, guild workers, and the Magistros, insisting the workers gain real footing. The settlement set equal seats for Windcallers and the new worker’s guilds on the corporation’s board, with the Magistros appointing members following Kenzo’s advice, and holding the tie-breaking vote, but agreeing to abstain from any decisions concerning profit-sharing. The Chalyte Refining Corporation took control of three of the safest and highest quality chalyte refineries, to continue chalyte production in the city, with the board controlling how profits would be reinvested. Kenzo, now owner and landlord of vast swaths of ruined territory, began planning how to reinvigorate the community of his youth, while also helping establish and cement the power of the Guild of Chalyte Workers.

Elsewhere, Delwath lent a silver tongue to talks and quietly chased rumors of the vanished Elves. Seeker studied refinery craft and the Plane of Fire. Wellby mapped dangers of the Plane of Fire and set the Saga of Apollyon to verse with halfling storytellers. In late July, news came of the settlement of a peace treaty with Dunmar: Darba ceded as a free port, with the Chardonian Empire paying a transfer fee to aid in reconstruction; the realm itself split in two between Sura and Karnas. Also in late July, the Chataan Mountains, the Imperial Chalyte Mining Company readied its first exploratory expeditions, Dhrukmir’s ogres having been quelled by the legions. By early August, Chardon steadied, though negotiations continued apace, a sense of normalcy returned to the city after months of turmoil and chaos.

On Vindristjarna, Hektor, recovered enough to emerge from the Mirror of Soul Trapping, found himself work on Vindristjarna, joining the crew. Vola, still troubled by being betrayed into magical bondage, left the city for Apporia to try to gain a new perspective and clear her mind.

In early August, in the midst of tying up these loose ends, Wellby’s sending stone stirred with Sura’s voice. Marcella, who had settled on the Aurbez Plateau after being freed by the party from Kadmos, begged for help. Scouts in the Refounded Alliance of Arbez had seen a hobgoblin host moving out of the Plaguelands beneath a drifting shroud of ash. Numbers were unclear; more scouts had not returned. Militias were mustering, riders calling aid to every neighbor. The message was already eight days old.

Leaping immediately into action, the party returned to Vindristjarna and set out east, for the Aurbez Plateau. That evening, Delwath entered Marcella’s dreams. After a brief, urgent conversation, the party decided that speed was of the essence, and, using Marcella’s description of the Aursen Marshes, trusted to Seeker’s unfailing ability to teleport anywhere to bring them to her immediately. Meanwhile, the crew kept Vindristjarna flying east.

Seeker’s spell brought them to a high plateau on a moonless night, through which a meandering river flowed around marshes and peat in a boggy basin. A few small houses clustered on dry ground, in a willow grove; a moment later, Marcella emerged from the houses and led the party away, up a stream to a small hillock, away from the children sleeping in the houses. She told them what she knew: the rapid approach of the hobgoblin army, the few paths that led up to the plateau, worry over the walled town of Aursenbourg guarding the crossing of the Aursen, the stream of refugees already making their way to what safety they could find.

The party immediately set off to scout, taking the shapes of great eagles to reach the ash cloud by dawn, and promising Marcella to find her the next day at the council meeting upriver at Three Wells. They flew as eagles through the night, following the river past a walled town and then over abandoned farmsteads. By dawn they were over the Plaguelands, the land turned ashen and broken: torn hills, gray pools ringed with thorn-trees, and a limping seven‑legged beast that paid them no mind. Ahead lay an undulating ash cloud, wide and long, moving with arrhythmic booms like metal crushing stone.

They set down five miles ahead and hid among the rocks. Kenzo and Wellby scouted. The air stung with grit; ash spilled from the top of something, leaving a trail on the stone. Wellby sent his senses into a bat and guided it into the ash cloud. Inside, the ash broke to reveal massive centipede-like behemoth, at least 400 feet long, made of some strange shifting metallic flesh, its back split by gaping vents that breathed ash, seeming to glide across the ground and even up steep cliffs, passing over all obstacles in its way. Along its flanks, ringed platforms bore ranks of hobgoblins, numbering in the thousands. On the head of the creature a captain stood, armored in the same strange metal. A rider spotted the bat, killed it, and ate it. Kenzo felt only hobgoblin souls; the engine itself was empty. The ground beneath the thing seemed unstable, reality thinned.

The party let the column pass, hoping to seize a prisoner, or at least a corpse for questioning, from the end of the column. Hidden by a low blind of stacked rocks, Delwath breathed Sleep across the rear ranks. Two riders slipped and tumbled into the grit. Seeker’s unseen force hooked one and dragged him toward the blind while Delwath rewrapped allies and prisoner alike in invisibility.

The silver-clad commander lifted from the centipede’s prow, metal streaming and reknitting over her skin as she circled in flight. Finding one fallen hobgoblin, she landed to rouse him, and then began to spiral outward, searching carefully for his companion. Meanwhile, still hidden in their rock blind, the party examined their captive. He was tall, muscular hobgoblin, armored in mismatched but well-maintained armor, bearing a sigil: three jagged shards of a shattered crown, with three curling blades dripping beneath.

With the search drawing close, Delwath woke the prisoner and whispered a bent desire: come with us, step through. As the commander banked toward their cover, Seeker quickly unleashed his Teleport spell before they were spotted, the rocks and ash vanishing from around them as they reappeared on the hillock, now in the morning sun, from which they set flight hours ago. As the party prepared to interrogate their prisoner, Delwath laid careful magic upon him, making enthusiastic storytelling his favorite activity.

The prisoner named himself Szoltár. He strutted, boastful, but admitted he merely followed the Iron Fang clan, under the Empress of Chaos. He spoke of a chaos spear carried by the Empress, meant to pierce a place he called the secret heart. Doing so, the Empress of Chaos boasted, would corrupt the land and give her control over the magic of Isingue, and the ooze titan that now dwelt there. The armies of the Iron Fang would ride forth with the leashed ooze creature, sweeping across all who stood in their path, and claiming all the land to the north and west for themselves.

Szoltár boasted of a newly found chaos metal, discovered recently. The party concluded that somehow the unraveling of Apollyon’s prison caused strange chaos power to surge through the Plaguelands. With it, the Empress would take control of Isingue, command the ooze, and take her revenge for past slights: the slaughter of Cha’mutte, the betrayal of the Shattered Ice Clan, and their long isolation in the Plaguelands at the hands of the humans. Our session ends as Szoltár sang the praises of the Empress of Chaos and the long-awaited salvation of the Iron Fang clan, while the party contemplated what, if anything, they could still learn from this creature.

Transcript of the Interrogation of Szoltár of the Iron Fang

The hobgoblin stirs under enchantment, groggy, then sits upright. His eyes dart around the plateau before fixing on his captors. Standing, he draws his sword with a flourish, and begins to speak in Goblin.

Szoltár: A proper story must intimidate its listeners. Yes. Yes. I am Szoltár the Warrior. I have led armies… though I must speak the truth. I follow in armies. Yet we will win! The Empress of Chaos leads us, and she will bring victory. (He drives his sword into the ground with force.) The Chaos Spear will pierce this fine earth, and our power will spread! (He points his blade at Wellby, who cowers theatrically.) Yes, that’s right - cower. All of you are not scared enough by what is going to happen.

Kenzo: What’s going to happen?

Szoltár: The Empress of Chaos has been planning this, telling us stories of this moment for a decade. When she would breach the strongholds, corrupt the heart of the land, and take control of the magic of Isingue. How we could ride a monster to sweep across the lands! Then the March of Andonne, whatever they call it, those stupid castles to the north, would fall, and we could claim all the good farmland that should have been ours. All we need do is ride to victory atop the plateau. The Empress tells us she knows where the Secret Heart is!

Wellby: Huh.

Szoltár: She will fly there, take her spear— (he gestures, switching his sword to grip it like a spear) —and stab it through! And chaos will spread. Since she discovered the chaos metal just… months ago, everything has fallen into place. And now our plan is unstoppable! The puny humans, elves, dwarves, halflings—the pathetic creatures who live on this plateau—

Delwath: What about the tall Stoneborn, who are not puny?

Szoltár: They too shall be consumed by the chaos metal of the Empress. None will survive.

Kenzo (aside): Nobody tell Seeker about this Chaos metal.

Wellby: Do all of our problems go back to emperors?

Szoltár: Empresses are not the cause of problems—they are the solution! We have dwelt in the scraplands east of the Istros for generations. But soon—when we control the ooze—we will not be living in the scraplands anymore!

Kenzo: What’s the—

Szoltár: You dare ask questions of the great Szoltár?

Kenzo: Oh, I do not dare, I do not dare, I do not dare. I only wish to learn about the ooze and the chaos metal—and is there a connection between the ooze and the chaos?

Wellby: I do not dare, I do not dare. And if we found out, we’d be even more intimidated than we already are.

Kenzo: So intimidated by these stories.

Wellby: The truthfulness intimidates us—as do the many fine details that explain the sequence of events that led to the present moment. That’s the most intimidating part of all.

Szoltár: You’re intimidated by history? What weaklings! Our history is grand! We have lived for many years, since the sad death of the great Cha’mutte, in hiding. Those foolish humans thought they could kill us. Those foolish Shattered Ice hobgoblins thought they could drive us out. No! Even when we helped them, they betrayed us—left us to rot in the Plaguelands. And now… we finally have our chance! The Iron Fang will rule under the banner of the Empress of Chaos, and it’s all thanks to the magic that surged through our land just… three months ago. Two months ago. Some number of months ago.

Wellby: Huh.

Kenzo: What happened, then?

Delwath: That was a few days after Apollyon died, when his prison unraveled.

Kenzo: I think we’d be really scared to learn more about that ooze. It sounds terrifying.

Delwath: We do need to know… where?

Szoltár: Near Isingue, fools! But once the Empress of Chaos takes control of the magic, all will fall to her dominion. She will control everything. We are but her humble servants—and soon, so will you be.