[this session recap written by Erin, the player of Janeva Arbor]
Tonight the group learned that the shadow world, called the Shadowfell, can shift into the real world with the aid of a powerful curse. Sometimes the shift is permanent and sometimes it’s temporary. The Shadowfell is most certainly intruding. It’s a place though which the souls of the dead travel on their path beyond death, but undead and other shadow creatures can also utilize the Shadowfell for travel. These creatures are not inherently evil and driven to do evil things, they are just morally ambiguous.
Grimbold, the dwarven guard, asked the party for assistance with the monsters roaming the street. The armory has been taken over by creatures that are killing the militia that is trying to rally. The north gate guard Eddin was found injured claiming to have been stabbed when he tried to stop the servant from feeling the city. He said the man ran as though a thousand demons were licking at his heels.
The party decided that before they could leave the town to pursue the servant in an attempt to get some answers, they had to take back the armory and arm the people to protect themselves. The stepped out of the inn and all immediately felt a bone-chilling shiver go up their spines. The place had a dark, cloudy, eerie gloom to it. Light only reached half as far as usual and the city was a different layout than before. The pine houses were now made of a dark oak. The light granite cobbles that had been shipped from the northern cliffs to line the streets were a deep, brown slate, cracked and barely functioning as more than gravel. The party skill-checked their way to the armory, trying to avoid an ambush by creatures with glowing red eyes. Through the keen eyes of Fargrim the dwarf, they managed to make the short trip without incident.
Upon arrival at the armory the group sees it is surrounded by shadow fiends. Janeva shot a burst of ice towards on and one shattered into a million shadowy pieces and the other foes quickly retreated through the walls into the building. Kalak charged in and threw the door open, finding several members of the militia laying unconscious and half-armored, weapons scattered across the room. Wattain sprinted up behind Kalak in time for three mastiff-sized spiders to leap from the roof. Kalak teleported backwards behind Wattain and the poor Paladin took the hits from all targets. As the rest of the party converged on the armory, Janeva leapt onto a statue to get a better vantage of the battlefield and unobscured views of enemies. The shadows returned and latched onto Janeva and Fargrim. The two adventurers felt a burning, sapping, leeching, necrotic energy as the shadows melded with them physically and both missed their next attacks. Kalak summoned a mighty fireball and took out two of the shadows. With one spider now on fire, Wattain severed one of its legs and dying with a shriek, it summoned the other two spiders to jump away from the Paladin and engage other targets.
As the battle raged on, a swarm of spiders appeared from inside the armory and another from the riverfront. One of the spiders decided to attack Janeva, in what would be the last bad idea of its life. Janeva skewered the spider, plunging her blade into its head and dropping it to the ground, twitching and dead. She then leapt from her perch and landed on the back of another spider as her icy blade removed its head from its body. She channeled the power of its death to fuel her Fey magic and teleported to assist her allied. The tide had turned and the party surged on, invigorated. One of the spider swarms drops Wattain unconscious and Wrath healed him back to his feet. The Paladin felt tainted by the touch of the undead and attempted to shake it off and clear his head, unsuccessfully.
Across the battlefield, Fargrim turns his enormous axe to the side and uses the flat of the large blade to squash one of the balls of spiders. In his fury of adrenaline at having seen his comrade fall, he sprinted as fast as his short legs could carry him across the field and unleashed the same treatment on the last ball of spiders.
Foes vanquished, the party regrouped. Wrath looked to the militia, healing those he could. It was time to find the servant. Hopefully he would lead them to the young scribe, the prime suspect for casting the curse that opened the Shadowfell.