The party was bored.
It had been a month since they joined up with Maxwell Short's Railroad Company and not a lot had happened. MSRC was moving forward with the construction of their compound in Regalport. All the old buildings had been demolished, a barbed wire fence erected, the factory and R&D building up and running, and workers hired.
Maxwell had the party fly to Sharn to pick up some sensitive supplies and personal and had promised high flying swashbuckling antics with their cross continent trip. Sadly, there were no sky pirates nor roc attacks. In fact, nothing happened at all.
It was a Tuesday night and the party was in their clubhouse chatting and drinking and playing cards. They decided to wander down to their friendly diner, Mama Dana's, for some pizza and more beer. As they gathered their things, they heard a knock on the door.
It was one of the workers. A woman named Rosa. She was a riveter or a steeplejack or something like that. They had seen her around but didn't know much of her story. She told them that her husband had died in the Last War and she was alone raising her only son Damien. Damien was about 16 and had fallen into the wrong crowd, an ostensibly charitable organization that called themselves The Fellowship.
The Fellowship had recently bought an abandoned warehouse across the street from Mama Dana's. They had people walking around in white linen shirts and shorts talking to the denizens of Little Cyre. They offered food and a place to sleep and work at their plantation somewhere north called The Fellowship House. Most people thought they were just some weird cult. It is Khorvaire after all. Strange worshippers of stranger gods weren't exactly uncommon.
The party set off to Mama Dana's for some pizza, beer, information, and hopefully some adventure.
They met there a man named Guiseppe. Guiseppe was a veteran of The Last War, fighting in the 122nd Cyran Infantry, 1st Fussilliers. He had lost his left arm just below the elbow in the fighting but still kept his spirit. He and three Cyran veterans spent most of their days drinking away their pensions on the patio at Mama Dana's.
The party asked Guiseppe and his crew about The Fellowship and he told them little more than they had already guessed. The Fellowship were recruiting from the homeless and unemployed people of Little Cyre. Guiseppe said that those that those that went into the Fellowship’s warehouse rarely came out, though he was first to admit Mama Dana kicked them out at 11 when she closed, so maybe they left at night.
The party had the gleam of action in their eyes and set out to learn more. Thaddeus went into the Fellowship’s warehouse and found more people with linen shirts and shorts. He set up an appointment for a few hours later for the party to hear their recruitment seminar.
The warforged Xeevius went into the receptionist area and pretended to shut down. The Fellowship workers hadn’t had much experience with warforged, so they picked up the apparently dormant warforged and put him in a broom closet. In the broom closet, Xeevius found a mop, some brooms, a little bit of cleaning supplies, and a six foot long thing wrapped in tarp with three locked buckles around it.
Xeevius unlocked the buckles and found inside of it a Greatsword. It had a blue blade with long streaks of white lightning. He immediately passed out when he touched the sword.
The rest of the party attended The Fellowship’s recruitment seminar. There were two presenters, a man and a woman. The woman seemed to be charge. It was held in a room with rows of folding chairs and table on the back with stale donuts and coffee. The dwarf cleric (Terden? Tarsus? Grand Moff Tarkin?) inspected the donuts, and using the power of our lord and savior Stan Makita, determined that the donuts were not made with any ingredients readily available in Regalport. Something was fishy and not just of a confectionary nature.
The seminar was boring and they didn’t say much more than “join our cult, its super fun!” The party went along with it. They went into the next room and were told to change into the white linen shorts and shirts. In the next room were four enormous men who looked very similar and had orange skin. They all had name tags that said Chad. The Chads made it very clear that there was no turning back.
Xeevius woke up in the broom closet. He was holding the sword in front of him and he heard a voice sternly say: “Deliver Me”. He did not have the will to go against it. He fumbled with the lock on the broom closet. In the changing room, one of the male presenter went to the closet door and unlocked it. Xeevius reached out and attempted to subdue the man. The voice said “Kill Him”. This was not a hard sell for Xeevius.
Shit then popped off. The party began to fight the four Chads and the two seminar presenters. When The Fellowship members were wounded, their skin peeled off revealing a layer of carapace not unlike a lizards. The bled black. This did not seem normal. When they were killed, their human skilled sizzled away revealing that they were covered in this carapace and they had two small horns on their foreheads.
The voice made it very clear to Xeevius that the sword was to be delivered to Jaxon. When Jaxon held onto the sword, he immediately dropped Evette and heard a voice. The voiced talked in a loud and menacing tone in some language he did not understand for a while. It then spoke words in the same language this time more calmly. Jaxon somehow now understood the meaning of every word even without speaking whatever language it spoke. It said: “I am the Blade of Michael, Knight of the Chalice, Slayer of Tharazidun. I will be your instrument.”
Things quickly became the Jaxon show. With the blade in his hand, Jaxon carved a bloody path through the remaining Chads. The party found on the female presenter a date book that was written in Infernal. It was very complicated and seemed to be the date book of a very busy person in a large organization. There were many meetings and due dates. Just reading it was stressful. This person clearly had a poor work-life balance. Also there were a lot of performance reviews and she always seemed to do poorly.
The next room was the rest of the warehouse. It was pretty bare except for a ten by ten area of swirling black water. There were also two hellhounds. They didn’t last ten seconds.
The party dunked Burt’s head into the water and he came out into what appeared to be a forge. There were ten more of the lizard-carapace-horned dudes making weapons. They also saw about two dozen people in rags walking around bringing tools and sweeping away the refuse. Damien was one of them. These people were obviously those poor Cyrans who had gone to The Fellowship House.
The party stormed the forge and killed the dudes. There was also a bearded devil. He tried to rub his beard on people but never landed it before Jaxon cut him up. They found a large cache of Cold Iron weapons and a huge file cabinet. The files in the cabinet were written in Infernal and seemed to be every piece of documentation that a small forge could imaginably create. The Fellowship, or whoever they were, clearly had a hard on for bureaucracy.
The party saved the Cyran, got the loot, and the portal closed behind them. It was the most fun they had had in a month.