Off the Sword Coast...

"Adventurers you say? Such things still exist in a world crawling with humans?", asked the eladrin of his soft nonchalent voice.

Puzzled, but too respectful to show it, the Shadar'Kai responded simply with "Yes, Lord".

"No matter. It was but one of the entrance. According to what you say, it was still too early to tell if the tunnels to the underworld still existed. Correct?"

"Much too early, Lord".

"Very well. We shall concentrate on the other one for now. Let these... adventurers meddle with the goblins. If really they can best my agents there, then they deserve to plunder the keep. They will be gone soon enough.".

Quel'Danas turned toward the sea of swords as the wind started blowing harder. A storm was approaching, a large one. But never as strong or dark as the one he was preparing.

"As for you, mercenary from the Shadowfell, as the only survivor of your group, you shall receive the whole payment, as promised.". The wizard opened a threw him a pouch. The Shadar'kai opened it, recognized the bag of holding for what it was, and accepted the content and the pouch as payment.

"But now, we have a problem. I see in your heart that you are preoccupied with one of the adventurers. Something about allies of your home land. Also, alone you are of little use to me. Your whole group could not best a band of adventuers, what good are you now?", Quel'Danas finished with a smile, turning to face the Shadar'Kai, who had frozen completely. Fear was not part of his life, as death is a glorious event in the eyes of the Raven Queen, but he knew the wizard would offer him much worse than death...

"Worry not, pawn. You played your part and your role is over, but not your existence. Go now, I care not for what happens of you.", then he turned back to the sea.

Adventurers? The idea amused him. Just like these Flaming Fist fools to the south near Baldur's Gate, or the guards of Waterdeep. They could play with his minions all they wanted, no one would connect the dots and understand what was to happen in time.

As lightning cut accross the horizon, so did his smile accross his face.

On the trails of the Heroes

Our Heroes spent the following day spying on the Keep, trying to figure out their numbers, who are the leaders, what are they up to? Acane and Fylikiel, again the best suited for the task, went forward using the trees and hills as cover from the keep. They spent that day counting the bugbears working at digging trenches or cutting trees, the goblins guards watching over the workers, and the hobgoblins commanding from the keep and walls. They could see a few week spots, like the fact that the gates' doors  were not up yet, but it wouldn't be long as they were collecting a large amount of timber. During their patrol, they were also seen by a group of goblins, and they barely escaped them after a few minutes of running through the hills.

That evening, they went back to set their camp close to where they had first met a clan of wood elves from Trollbark Forest. During this second meeting, our heroes described the situation, which alarmed the wood elves and prompted them into acting. If the weather was on their side, they would attack the keep from the East using fog, rain and the woods as cover. The signal would be their eagles circling the keep.

Our Heroes woke up to a cold foggy morning, soon followed with glacial northern rain as they made their way back to the keep. But after a few hours of raining lightly, the rain stopped and gave place to warm breeze, rising a light mist in the foothills. Soon after they had their signal: Eagles.

On they went, going for the western walls. They waited for the elves to start the attack and attract groups of bugbears out of the keep. After a few minutes they lost track of the bugbears and goblins in the eastern woods. Then the wolves started howling, dozens of them. To that dreadful sound, the Hobgoblins sent most of the remaining bugbears to fight. The heroes picked that time to move. Entering through the western gate, they decided to make their way to the tower up the hill, but on their way, they had to face the last few Bugbears guards with goblins slingers manning the eastern wall.

That skirmish almost turned to disaster as our heroes experienced with much surprise the strenght and violence of the bugbears. Thinking them fools and believing the bugbears would make quick work of them, the Hobgoblin commander kept the goblins shooting in the woods at hidden elves. Sheer perseverence and a few healing potions saved our heroes as Aishar and Auburn nearly lost their lives. But the bugbears were eventually overwhelmed, and with Fylikiel's bold magical prowesses along with Acane's fine bow, they easily dispatched the goblins, and almost killed all their opponents. A bugbear, nearly dead, made it to the mine entrance, and closed the gates behind him.

Taking cover from the tower's hobgoblin archers, the heroes rested a few minutes and counted their potions, sharing between them what little they had left. Then they made it to the tower. Covered from two archers by Acane and Fylikiel, Auburn and Aishar broke the door open, and they were met with hobgoblins in phalanx formation, supported by a Warcaster.

Not losing a second, they charged their ranks and made quick work of the few untrained hobgoblins, killed the elite soliders and survived the warcaster's nasty magical tricks. The rest of the tower showed little resistance. At the top, the heroes were surprised to meet a surrendering hobgoblin, and even more surprised when Acane met his surrender with 2 arrows at point blank. "Don't let these wicked creatures deceive you. Goblins can not be endured.", she explained as Auburn washed the blood off his warhammer.

The shook what little they could from the bodies of the Hobgoblins and waved their War Banner at the top of the tower, to signal the elves that the walls and keep were taken. An eagle seemed to understand and set off.

Then they gathered their wits and set down into the tower, down the spiraling stairs and in the hills. At the bottem, after Aishar opened silently a locked door, they ended into a brick antechamber. The next door led them into a much larger room.

And there, fighting amongs them, a pack of bugbears were busy bashing at the wounded bugbear who had fled the battle earlier.

Will our heroes be able to surprise these fierce opponents. One thing is almost certain, in this complex under the tower lurk the leaders of this keep of goblins.

Domain of the scarred mage

Faint fluctuations in the magical weave brought More Claym back to consciousness from a deep trance he had been in for nearly a tenday. The bodily sensations flooding back reminded him again of how weak flesh was, even empowered like his was. Starved, dehydrated and with every limbs numbed from not moving for days, the wizard worked his mind back into his body slowly. 

Looking up to the stone statue in the middle of his courtyard, More Claym stood and stretched his back, standing straight in the bright sunlight. Glistening along his body like surface veins, coursed bluish lines resonating with dormant magical energies.One of his eyes was a deep blue light, his whole hair were tendrils of magical flame flowing about like snakes, and his right arm was gone, but with a thought, the wizard recreated it from the wild magic inside him. Spellscarred beyond understanding, More Claym's whole body had been claimed by the plague, making him one with the magic of Faerun. Only his mastery of the arcane and determination had allowed him to survive the spellplague, and learn to control the damages it had done this his body.  Unfortunately, the damages to his mind were not so easily repaired, and More Claym's unstable nature had scared away everything he had left, which was not much to start with.

The last century had been hard on More Claym....

His constant struggle against the Dark Minded Council, and his nemesis, the sorcerer Blade, had ended with the death of his daughter, killed in the evil rituals of devils and dark magic. Of his companions, only Mugnorr Kenesis had survived. Then the Archwizards of Shade had come and started a war on Cormyr. They had helped, and fierce had been their battles, from which tales had been made.

But that had all faded into memories, and into legends as men died.

Then the Spellplague had struck, twisting his mind and body. If not for Mugnorr Kenesi, he would have lost his mind much sooner., but the powers of his friend were great as well. Unfortunately, as the decades passed and the plague raged, they finally lost the battle and when More Claym's mind was irreversably plagued, nothing else was the same.

From conflict to experiment, with rages, torpors, comas and strange dreams, More Claym's life crumbled slowly into chaos. Becoming a danger for the world around them, Mugnorr Kenesi, getting old but still strong, tried to put a end to it. Stop his own friend before he became a threat to Faerun.

Mugnorr Kenesi was not victorious. As the battle raged, the Mind Master was not prepared for the strange powers the Spellplague had bestowed upon More Claym.

Now, years later, and having regained some control over his own mind, More Claym was looking the statue of his old companion with regret. 

Then he felt it again. A fluctuation, ever so subtle yet unmistakable.

"You feel it my friend?", he said to the effigy of his lost friend. "Elven High Magic... very powerful yet very distant. ", he concentrated a second, reaching out with his scar rather than his eyes, "Very ancient, and very evil. Necrotic energies, yes... coming from the west... Yes, The west."

"Very interesting".

Too soon to know where the exact source was, More Claym prepared his domain. His castle was floating freely around the Plagueland, amongs the other pockets of changing weather and landscape, hiding its true nature. He would ready the old rituals to have it turn invisible and start its progress toward the Sword Coast. 

He bowed to the statue of his lost companion, then went inside.

Unexpected reunion

At the slightest change in the air, his hand went to the hilt of his blade. At this subtle movement, his men stopped. They all become immobile, stones statues amongs the trees, listening. Waiting.

Galarnok motioned to one of his men to start forward. Nouraha Awkeye did so without a sound and vanished amongs the trees like a shadow.

Minutes went on and the rogue came back with good news: Goblins. The Blood Raven nodded and they went on, cutting after Nouraha, to ambush the little rascals. They killed countless varmints in this forest hoping for a few clues concerning a strange Hobgoblin clan, with very little results. But his real trip in the Trollbark Woods was to meet with a clan of shaman he had met before. Nevertheless, splilling goblin blood would be a welcome pause during their tedious walk.

They slowed down. The goblins were in sight. Galarnok unhook his disproportionate blade from its back hilt, holding it beside him and readying his charge... but the sun glinting off an armor off to his right, between the trees, alerted him that the goblins were not the only opponents. 

This new opponent was coming at them, silent even in platemail. Not liking a surprise, the Blood Raven welcomed the challenge and ran straight at the new comer. Coming into full few, Galarnok could see the man better; white steel full plate armor with purple filigrees, full face helmet shaped as the head of a dragon, and brandishing two-handed sword. The BloodRaven could have stayed his blade, but decided otherwise, as the memories of his opponent swam back from a time long pass. He could not quite recognize him, but knew this armor was familiar.

The enormous blade sliced through air and smaller trees to come hit the armored man with full force. A normal blade could not have parried that powerful strike, but this one did, barely avoiding a deadly blow. The force of Galarnok's charge sent the man backward, but he kept his balance. The Blood Raven lunged forward for another assault, but his opponent had other plans for him.

The man came forward switfly and swung an angled strike at Galarnok. A bright flash of light blinded him and he couldn't avoid the blade completely, his armor deflecting a heavy blow and numbing his side. As it struck, strands of energy erupted from the weapon wrapping themselves around him, rooting him to the ground. 

Unable to move, Galarnok took his last chance to catch the man within reach. He angled his blade and struck as fast as his athletic arms could, pushing his weapon deeper than he normally would. The man could'nt move out of reach fast enough and the mighty blade struck him, and through him, riping a legplate right off and digging into his flesh, pinning the man to the ground. 

Both opponent were now face to face, barely inches apart, immobilized, as Galarnok's friends catched up.

"Hey Galarnok. Age clouds your memory. Don't you recognize your foe" , came the voice of Nouraha behind him.

The flash of light, the purple filigree... Yes. He knew that man.

"Galarnok Partack. The BloodRaven himself, is that really you?", asked his foe, almost painlessly. Taking his helmet off, spilling his brownish blood hair, framing the face of...

"Stuh Ryback, Paladin of Torm".

The white tendrils holding on Galarnok vanished. The mercenary let his weapon go and the paladin ripped his leg free of it with not so much as a groan. He reached into his satchel and quaffed the content of a small vial. Immediately, the open wound, bleeding freely, started to close magically, leaving not so much as a scar.

" I dare say I am not surprised to see the Blood Raven walk these lands at such a dark hour. But what brings your to Toril, Galarnok.", inquired the paladin.

" Pay attention to the symbol on my chest and you will notice that these lands have been my home for quite some time already, old friend. ", responded Galarnok.

" I see. And if I am to indeed believe your decorations, you are force commander of Baldur's Gate. Is that so? " , asked Stuh suspiciously. 

" Yes, Paladin. Very true indeed. And what a Paladin of Torm, also a purple dragon commander, is doing in Trollbark Woods, hunting goblins ? ", replied Galarnok.

" If I am to believe the signs I have seen... probably the same you were doing ", suggested Stuh.

" Trying to figure out why clans of lizardfolks and hobgoblins would war under a similar banner, miles apart from each other, and how ... ", Galarnok let his voice trail...

" ... how this would be connected to strange necrotic contagions along the sword coast. ", finished the paladin.

The two men looked at each other a moment longer, coming to an understanding. Reunited after what felt, and could probably be, centuries, the old friend let the unease slowly fade. They might have been adventurers long ago, but Paladins and Mercenaries often have different opinions concerning most things. Thus Galarnok and Stuh met anew, in the Trollbark Woods, along the sword coast of Faerun.

For Stuh Ryback, that such powerful individuals as the Blood Raven took interest in this matter was very bad news. For nothing short of world shattering cataclysms ever brought The Blood Raven out of his lair.

Hollow Hill Keep

As everything built by man's hand, Hollow Hill Keep was not always there. Decades ago, the region was bare except for the presence of a strange cult of troglodytes harassing the region. In search of fame and glory, a valiant group of adventurers decided to go and put a stop to these intrusions of troglodytes into the woods and lands around.

Along the hills where now stand the keep was their camp and tunnels. The adventurers bravely faced the clan of troglodytes and discovered they were in fact a cult, following masters that lived deep underground. They decided to establish a camp at the surface where they had destroyed the troglodytes. Once the crude wood walls were made, they started adventuring in the caves below, to make a big discovery: below the surface were gigantic caves and a spiderweb of tunnels linking them. There they hunted the remnants of the troglodytes and faced their Aboleth masters. The leader of these Aboleth was venerated as a god by the cult, and the battles to erradicate the cult completely took several months. 

Pillaging the resources of the cult, the adventurers did gain enough riches to build a keep and stone walls around the cave entrances. They hired men to watch the surface when they went adventuring down.

According to history, they had succesfully disbanded the cult and were hunting the last Aboleths in the depts of the world, reaching into the Underdark, far below the keep. But one day, the guards at the keep felt tremors shaking the hills, creating ravines in the area, leveling some hills. It is rumored that the heroes were trapped in the Underdark, or crushed to death in the cavein. Either way, they were never seen again.

After a while, the guards separated the gold left behind between them and left the keep. Soon, goblins and other varmints took over. New adventurers came in search of the rumored riches of the Aboleth King, which was never found. Pillaged for a few years, the keep became ruins and was left to the goblins and bugbears finally.

And it was this way until the coming of a Clan of Hobgoblins, bearing a strange mark ressembling a skull. The goblins and bugbears, soon enslaved, were put to work on the walls and caves below, fortifying the keep anew. More goblins were rallied everyday, and sent in war parties across the sword coast to find materials and pillage villages.

Thus was rebuilt the Keep of Hollow Hill.