SATURDAY, JUNE 13TH - MASTER AND APPRENTICE CAMPAIGN 1 : SESSION 17 RECAP
Aldor’s Journal : Entry 17
I told you all the false king would fall soon, but not even I knew how quickly…
We began our search for clues about the supposed “fake heir” at the Beached Leviathan, hoping the tavern might yield some insight. Instead, we found Harig—tired, irritated, and clearly worn down by constant talk of heirs and politics. After some light prodding (and a bit of joking about all these nobles needing real jobs), it became clear the tavern had little to offer beyond rumors. The patrons themselves were divided, arguing among each other, and Harig looked like he’d had enough—likely after another visit from Len Jes, who apparently hadn’t been kind.
That tension boiled over when city guards stormed in and began roughing Harig up. I stepped in, feigning drunkenness to defuse the situation, and managed to break things up before it escalated. Grateful, Harig offered us drinks on the house. I leaned into the moment, calling him a friend and attempting to win his trust, but even then he had nothing useful to share about the heir. Before leaving, I slipped him a gold piece and some encouragement—he deserved at least that much (more so, to hopefully win his trust to use at a later date, he wasn’t inherently bad in my opinion after all).
With no new leads, we headed back into the streets—until a scream cut through the night. Moments later, two people sprinted past us, and behind them came a full horde of undead…
The attack hit fast and hard. Cade unleashed a barrage from his repeating crossbow, dropping a couple of zombies, though they were quickly trampled under the mass. I sent my familiar ahead to warn the Hall and cast a web to slow the oncoming tide while urging everyone nearby to flee. That’s when we noticed something worse moving among them—a towering flesh golem with glowing green eyes.
Then it spoke.
Through the creature, we heard the unmistakable voice of Therhan, the necromancer. This was no random outbreak—this was deliberate. His first real move against us.
The horde surged forward with unnatural force, crushing itself against my web just to push through. Entire chunks of buildings began tearing loose under the strain. We fought desperately, falling back toward a nearby guard post, warning civilians as we went. Wyvern riders soared overhead toward the chaos as we signaled for backup.
The fighting became frantic and close. Cade charged in, nearly slipping on my ball bearings, while Ukalis’s magic missiles and firebolts carved through the undead. I slipped through shadows, striking where I could. Even when we destroyed them, some of the zombies clawed their way back up—relentless. At one point, I used mage hand to literally tear a zombie’s head free when it rose again.
As the pressure mounted, reinforcements finally arrived. Melania appeared with Hlam, Haluth, and a group of paladins. Soon after, Cullen led a larger force into the fray. He slammed his shield, igniting radiant energy that burst outward like sunlight, incinerating the front lines of the undead.
But the golem—and Therhan’s influence—held the rest together. The horde pressed in again.
Cade disappeared into their midst as we continued to fight. Ukalis landed a powerful guiding bolt on the golem, but it retaliated, nearly killing me before the horde overwhelmed us. I fell, unconscious, as Cullen’s spirit guardians swept the battlefield—burning through the undead in waves of radiant light.
In the end, the tide turned. The golem collapsed into a lifeless heap, its controlling force broken. The paladins surged forward and finished what remained. Cullen revived me, and together we pushed through until the horde was no more.
Victory came at a cost—two dozen citizens dead—but it could have been far worse.
In the aftermath, the city mobilized. Paladins and guards cleared the streets, burning the undead and honoring the fallen. Back at the Hall of Justice, we learned more about Therhan: a disgraced follower of Myrkul, expelled from magical circles and driven into the wilds years ago. Now he had returned, and his ambitions clearly tied into the growing struggle for control of Neverwinter.
Tensions only escalated the following morning.
Dagult Neverember himself arrived, accompanied by Sabine. He treated us with open contempt, dismissing us as insignificant—even as Cullen wore the crown. Sabine deferred to Cullen, but Neverember refused to acknowledge what was in front of him. It was clear he would not back down peacefully.
So we forced the truth.
As he ranted to me, Ukalis used mage hand to place the crown on his head. The effect was immediate. He froze mid-sentence. I stepped close, whispering, “That answers that…good riddance.” A moment later, he erupted into flame—his deception revealed and ended in an instant.
The man, Dagult himself, in front of us was a shell of who he was, and could’ve been, if it wasnt for years of paranoia and court espionage. I don’t normally condone murder over a fair death, but he would never give us the chance, and was the single largest threat to everyone we knew, and everything at stake.
The court was divided on what we had done. But one truth remained: we had just prevented another civil war before it could begin.
One thing to remember…We aren’t heroes—not really.
It is as I said, one obstacle removed from my path of revenge, I will never be stopped.
But for now, at least, we were on the right side of things in…The Maze.