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    Laioric slides into the Harper house under cover of darkness and pulls the file on the baneblades of Demron. Sitting down at the table and pulling an old beaten quill and a bottle of ink with chips missing around the lip he begins to pen.

    Written in slanting common

    It is done. The baneblades have been returned to whom they were crafted for and the darkness that plagued the City of Song was vanquished.

    Allow me some indulgence here as I shall pen this in my native tongue as to take less time.

    Written in fluid Elven

    Our journey began with the assembling of those that were picked to make the journey assembling at the Nightwolf Inn. A group consisting of War Wizard Xavien, War Wizard Kain, halfling scout Miyara, dwarf and priestess to her people Kili, the Tyrran Jacane Tyrane, Pathfinder Baba, Aur'En Zar warrior of the people, Dawnbringer Minna Hawkwinter, Valas Kenafin mage of the people, Rith Ma'Fer scout, Aliya Serahym Priestess of Shevarash and myself. I began by distributing all six of the baneblades to those that could wield them and we set out on our journey.

    The trip to the sacred boughs was largely uneventful. Once inside the sacred forrest however we were met with a good number of drow. Our group was of course the victor in a number of conflicts. A number of odd beasts were also in our path as we attempted to enter the City of Song, including but not limited to a manticore.

    When we entered what was once the grandest city in all the realms, I cannot put accurately into words the feeling of awe and wonderment that washes over you. While there is indeed much lost to the destruction brought forth by the dark forces that plagued and destroyed the city, the beauty and art that pervade the place are even still apparent. Before the foul days that befell the city, it must truly have been a marvel that could steal the breath from your chest with its harmoniously intermixed works of art on even the simplest of columns.

    Much to our dismay, patrols of drow walked the city streets of Myth Drannor with regular frequency as well as other nefarious beasts of their summoning or creation. For hours we fought our way through, plagued at all sides by their minotaur thralls, their abhorrant levitating eyeballs and other creatures. Our group, while experienced in the way of the road proved to be much more cohesive than one would expect in a band that has never walked a road together. The spells of the wizards raining down destruction, the arrows of the scouts, the blades of the warriors, and the divine might of our priestesses raining down upon their heads with satisfactory efficacy.

    We fought our way through the streets until we came upon what appeared to be an old grate down into the areas below the city. Attaching a rope and leading the group down after first scouting the area were myself and Pathfinder Baba. What greeted us was indeed a fiercesome sight. A gorgon, as well as a number of drow were locked within a struggle against an ancient Guardian of the people, a baelnorn. Our group although slightly disorganized at first quickly regrouped and began tearing through the enemies of the City of Song. In the confusion of battle, Pathfinder Baba was turned to stone by the gorgon. Fortunately the baelnorn recognized the blades we carried and agreed to help us in our endeavor. The pathfinder was restored and the guardian began his tale of how we could help to end the darkness that plagued the once great city.

    The guardian detailed for us the spirits of the former wielders of the baneblades and their unrest since the loss of the blades. Housed within the very crypt we were now standing, the spirits could once again make whole the blades thats power diminished over the years away from the mythal that aided Demron in their enchantment. He bade us to go to the spirits and see them restored. With these weapons, our chances would be greatly increased in defeating what it was the drow were seeking to unleash further upon the land. He told us of a great darkness that the drow have summoned forth and also detailed for us the wards that prevented him from seeking battle with the fiend.

    With the blades on our belts, we assured the guardian that we would return once the deed was indeed done. We progressed slowly, Pathfinder Baba and myself leading the group through the many trap laden chambers. Fighting many groups of drow and their foul priestesses as well as their undead creations, eventually we came to the chamber that housed the spirits.

    Passing a ward that kept the drow at bay, we came upon the spirits of the fallen defenders. Pirphal, once the wielder of Dragathil, took the blades from us and saw that they were restored. With the weapons with which to defeat the drow and the darkness beyond, we made our way toward the chamber Pirphal explained as the source for the rumblings that occasionally took our feet from under us. With a renewed vigor bestowed on our spirits by the blades, we made our way toward the chambers.

    Drow resistance grew heavier and more fiercesome. Mages threw foul spells at us and sought to halt us in our tracks. Through persistence of will alone our group was the greater in the fray. Pathfinder Baba and myself still leading the others forward saw a grouping of drow ahead in a dimly lit chamber. Moving into positions of the most advantageous tactical advantage the rest of our group made their way forward.

    Tyrane attempted parlay with what looked to be the head priestess within the catacombs. Her defiance and certainty of our failure did nothing to dissuade our hearts. With dialogue rapidly becoming nothing more than insults, we struck. A hard fought battle that saw all of their numbers vanquished while not losing a single member of our own was the result.

    Stronger rumblings that drove us all to our knees told us that we were indeed nearing whatever fiend it was that the drow were in league with. Cautiously we made our way to a chamber emanating enormous amounts of heat. Standing there, in all of its unholiness stood the most massive fiend that the hells can spit forth. Surrounded by its minions, the disgusting thing turned its head toward us and began casting fell magics that slew the War Wizard Kain as well as nearly killing Tyrane among others. A fiercesome battle erupted, with Pathfinder Baba wielding the might of Morvian against the fiend and landing the killing blow that vanquished it back to the foul pits from whence it came.

    With the fiend vanquished, we turned our eyes to our fallen and to closing the gate that still remained open. Using the power of the baneblades, we consecrated the area and sealed the gate, insuring that no further fiend would again walk the lower halls in the City of Song.

    With the blades returned to the unresting spirits and our weariness heavy upon us, we travelled back again to the chamber with the guardian. We told him of our successes and he thanked us. He rewarded us for our efforts and spoke highly of all of our members. There are yet stragglers of drow left behind, however in large number they have either fled or been killed. Their numbers still are too numerous in Cormanthyr however and this is something that we should see to as well.

    Laioric T'Laeren

  • I heard of the blades of Demron that were forged in ancient times by elves around Cormanthor. They were called the bane of Flame, of Plague, of Darkness, of Hate, of Battle and of Foe. They were lost to the wheels of time but i am certain they are scattered around somewhere.
    I will start investigating potential locations where those blades could be. I am further planing to have a look into the libraries in Eveningstar, I got a good contact there.


    I found some details about Evaelathil, the Flamebane which seems to have lost all its sharpness but the enchantments are still strong on it. The entire hilt is shaped like a miniature shadowtop tree with the leafy crown as the seat of the blade. Its blade flames are coold to the touch and give off a green light. It seems that dwarves forged and shaped the blade, elves crafted the ornate and elegante hilts, halflings created the finely tooled leather and metal scabbards and the human Demron laid the enchantments on it. The shortsword seems to grant the wielder some resistance to fire and i felt that some sort of charm enchantment has been put on it. I bet the blade could charm a person or perhaps even a animal. And yes, it has been found and is in good hands.

  • *The first few chapters deal with the history of Demron's early life in the paradise of Myth Drannor, deep in the heart of the forest of Cormanthyr.

    However, the later chapters begin to discuss his works, specifically the enchantment and creation of the Baneblades for which his name is famous for*

    The baneblades of Demron encompass three hundred years of enchanting by this human mage that resided in Myth Drannor.

    They are a masterful set of blades, each with it's own set of special properties.

    The first three were created at the behest of Arms-Major Pirphal Faerondaryl for his newest lieutenants. The Major wanted a blade for each of his non-elven officers, and as such, Demron set about the creation of Evaelathil, Mhaorathil and Morvian in the Year of the Battle Talons.

    More than a century later, in the Year of the Empty Helm, Faervian was created for the use of the seniror officers of the Akh'Faer.

    In the Year of the Gored Griffon, Demron completed his enchantments on Dragathil for Major Pirphal, but the sword was lost a mere 16 years later in a battle against the black dragon Crinabnahor.

    Fifty-nine years later, Demron completed a three-year long process of enchanting the sixth and final baneblae, Keryvian. It was to be the new symbol of the Arms-Major after the loss of Dragathil, and the undoing of Demron, who was found slumped over his work table dead, the magic of the newely laid enchantment still flickering on the blade.

    Known as the most powerful of the baneblades, Keryvian's edge struck the final blow to the Grand Commander of the Army of Darkness.

    While the blades bare Demron's name, they are a result of a collaborative effort of dwarven forgers and elven and halfling crafters.

    Below is an appendix of the six blades:

    The Flamebane
    Assigned wielders: Halfling
    Type: Short sword

    The Plaguebane
    Assigned wielders: Dwarf
    Type: Short sword

    The Darkbane
    Assigned wielder: Warrior
    Type: Two-handed sword

    The Battlebane
    Assigned wielder: Wizard
    Type: Long sword

    The Hatebane
    Assigned wielder: Warrior
    Type: Long sword

    The Foebane
    Assigned wielder: Warrior
    Type: Bastard Sword

    While speculation abounds as to the fate of these blades no one knows their true location. Most believe that the ones taken by the defenders of Myth Drannor before it's fall were spread among the countryside, hidden from the oncoming foes.

    Those that fell to the Army of Darkness are thought to have been lost to toll of time and war, or destroyed altogether.

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