Session 203, Part Two - Founding the Rebellion
Unharnessed energy pulsed through the atmosphere long before it could be seen. It was disorienting, almost nauseating. The mountainous, forested terrain meant that, until they entered the central valley, they could only see the cause at the very last moment: tendrils and arcs of planar energy trailing high into the air, from the centre of a dry lake bed. Half a mile away they could see the broken form of Borne, pinned under a vast golden disc – hundreds of feet wide, and dozens of feet thick. The Axis Seal.
Pemberton halted the roadcars at the lakes edge and they disembarked to investigate. Uriel strode out onto the lake as far as he could safely do so, until static energy caused his shock of white hair to writhe, and – following an instinct by which he understood what he needed to do – entered a kind of communion with the site. His principal concern was to learn if this ritual could be repeated.
Before doing so Uriel had asked Gupta if she could focus her mind on the site, but she was evidently dealing with a personal crisis of sorts. She sat slumped in the car, staring at the broken golem, watching the deadly planar arcs trace patterns across it. Back in Methia she had learned that the souls of her family had been drawn into the golem when it had crushed their home. What had happened to them now? Uriel would have to handle the esoteric matters alone.
What he later told the group was this:
The ritual actually involved the entire island, but it was centered on the Axis Seal – a hundred-foot diameter disk of gold. That seal lay atop bedrock, the centre of which was a twenty-foot diameter hemispherical depression, ten feet deep. It was from this depression that intense blasts of energy from across the multiverse now flared out. If the seal were properly fixed atop this bedrock, it would focus that energy and create a sun.
Around that depression, carvings of primitive orcish runes formed seven rings, each ten feet farther out. Spaced somewhat irregularly around these rings were vertical pits. The rings represented, in order outward:
- The plane of fire.
- The plane of air.
- The world itself, which had no pit, but was surrounded by a smaller ring that did, representing the plane of life.
- The plane of water.
- The plane of earth.
- The plane of space, which was surrounded by a smaller ring that had its own pit, representing the plane of time.
- The plane of death.
Each pit was about five feet in diameter and contained the fifty foot long white stone shaft of a petrified tree. Halfway down that shaft, a small alcove held a golden icon that represents a particular plane – those icons were marked with symbols representing a constellation associated with each plane, and were enchanted with powers linked to that plane’s energy.
(The Ob had bent the rules a bit, and in the alcove of the shaft for the plane of space they shoved a second small icon representing Baden, the ghost moon with a Flight trait.)
Uriel also established that it was not possible to get close enough to the ritual to actually interact with it and even long-distance magical attempts to use telekinesis or scrying were dangerous, acting as a conduit that would channel the destructive energy from the seal directly into the caster if he or she maintained the spell for more than a minute or so.
Most importantly, however, the answer to his primary question was, yes – the ritual could be redone, in theory.
Meanwhile, the others focused on a cluster of bunkers to the right of the roadway which had all been ripped apart from within. Hidden among the rubble of the bunker by the road, they found that the burn marks from the explosion had a strange arcane pattern, one which they recognised. It didn’t take long for them to confirm that, yes, the power of the explosion was provided by the Voice of Rot, who transmuted the flames to not just burn flesh, but to consume life force and dispel magical defences.
Pemberton let them look at the site for themselves, then he began to talk about what he and Brakken had in mind: “ A new conspiracy, one to fight against the Ob now they’ve stepped out into the open. You may want to teleport back to Risur to bring in other allies, but for now I think we should keep the foundations of our conspiracy as secret as possible. Only me, Brakken, Pardo, and you.”
Brakken stepped in to emphasise how firm global support for the Obscurati’s seemed to be. “Most people are just naturally loyal to them, and only a few who had dealt with the group before were able to resist being so swayed. Risur is, simply put, outnumbered. A direct fight won’t succeed.”
“We have to work,” Pemberton said, “like a conspiracy. Our mission is to figure out how the Ob pulled it off, and then put it back on. That might not be the right metaphor, but nevermind. They’re sucking the life and fun out of the chaotic mess I liked living in. I don’t want to turn into a cog in their machine, but they basically rule the world now. Fortunately for us, I have experience with fighting authority and concealing my intentions. We have to be discreet, be brilliant, and then be gone before they catch us.”
Pardo interjected: “Given the name of the Obscurati, if we’re opposed to them, I think we should call ourselves the Illuminati.” (Great minds think alike!) Pemberton scoffed, then asked Pardo to explain what they learned from ‘that dying mage’. Pardo said they were able to interrogate a mage who survived, and learned that the original plans for the ritual were stored in a vault somewhere in Alais Primos, the capital of Crisillyir. The mage then died of his injuries. Uriel, whose communion with the site was over, asked to be shown to the man’s body, to converse with his spirit, if possible. Pardo shifted somewhat uneasily and confessed to having eaten it. “I didn’t realise it would come in handy,” he said.
“This is really where we need your help,” said Pemberton. “If we want to redo the ritual themselves and fix the world, someone needs to break into that vault. The specific incantation to perform the ritual would need to be recovered.”
Uriel then revealed that the larger hurdle would be that of the golden icons: each infused with energy from a specific world. The spirit of Toteth Topec had already said that the orcs travelled to other worlds in order to attune the icons with them. Pardo nodded in agreement: this is where the gnolls had come unstuck. The Obscurati had used an eldritch telescope on this island to aim at planes. But now the night sky was starless. Even if Pemberton Industries could create a colossus of its own – a machine strong enough to withstand the energy coming out of the open seal – it would be useless without the appropriate icons. And they didn’t know how to get those. (The unit already had the Golden Icons of Apet, Avilona, Nem, and Urim, and the island already had an icon of Jiese. But Av, Mavisha, and Reida’s icons were unaccounted for.) Kai tugged at his father’s coat-sleeve and said, “That’s why we need to go up there.” He pointed into the sky, towards the Gyre.
Brakken then revealed another part of their plan: not getting caught and killed. He reiterated that the Obscurati was now no longer hidden. In Crisillyir, Danor, Drakr, and even the states of the Malice Lands, the Obscurati openly worked side-by-side with the local governments to establish new laws set forth by the Ob’s leadership. Most governments seemed to be cooperating with the Obscurati, and Nicodemus had called a conference in a few weeks in the Danoran capital of Cherage to decide the future of the world.
Brakken’s plan was to infiltrate the conference, learn the Ob’s plans, and possibly delay hostile actions against Risur, Pemberton, and anyone else involved in this rebellion. Pemberton lamented that the Obscurati had caught on to his use of duplicants, so that option was off the table.
Attacking the conference was mooted, but Pemberton and Brakken both warned against that. Trying to stop ‘an open discourse’ would make it easier for the Ob to paint Risur as enemies. Brakken thought it might be better to work to dissuade other nations from hostility.
Up to the point when the unit arrived, Brakken had been planning to go to the conference as a diplomat from Ber, ‘with Pemberton as my only passenger’. Now he hoped they would all agree to come along. Since the Great Eclipse, Brakken had expanded his psionic abilities. Among other things, he had found that he could now form a minor ‘gestalt consciousness’ with other willing creatures. While others inhabited his mind, Brakken could even channel their abilities and skills as an extension of himself. Brakken was confident he could house several minds in his body, effectively allowing members of the unit to accompany him to conference, along with Pemberton. Brakken assured them that there was no sharing of actual thoughts; people had to intentionally communicate within the gestalt, so it wasn’t like anyone was going to be controlling anyone else’s mind, much less reading them. (Although he could do that too, of course, even without gestalt.)
Pemberton summed things up: First they would focus on infiltrating the Forward Symposium and hopefully get information to help this new conspiracy avoid being tracked down by the Ob. Second they would need to retrieve the details of the Axis Seal Ritual from Alais Primos. Third, they would need to find a way to relink the lost planes, or to find new planes to link to. Fourth would be redoing the ritual. Somewhere in there, they needed to figure out how to destroy the Obscurati and Nicodemus himself once and for all.
While they talked, Rumdoom’s entourage had carried on poking around in the rubble, and were able to find something the gnolls had missed. They called the others over to look at it, and when they saw the intricately made duplicant (a refinement of Pemberton’s duplicant technology) Uriel immediately put two-and-two together and recognised the lingering presence he had felt hiding from him (rendered difficult to perceive by the crackling ambient energy). In a stern, commanding voice, he called out, “Xambria! Come here.”
Xambria was compelled to do so – Uriel had mastery over all disembodied entities, be they psychic or spiritual, but she may have done so anyway, desperate to leave this lonely place: “A lot of good people died here,” she said sadly.
There ensued a halting conversation, difficult and full of disappointment. Xambria was keen to stress her regret at the way things had turned out back on Mutravir. She did not want to harm her friends, and had hoped that they would be persuaded of the Ob’s cause, given time. Time in captivity, yes, but better that than forestalling the next step in the evolution of mankind out of sheer superstition or ignorance.
Concerned, Uriel asked if she still agreed with what the Ob had done here. Xambria answered, without wavering: “Yes.”
He had to admire her for that, but her stubborn response – her refusal to give him anything he could work with, even under these circumstances – stirred something like anger in him. He threatened to leave her, bound to the ritual site, then relented. Perhaps it was the years she spent bound to Malthusius that caused him to sympathise, but he could not bring himself to give up on her. She had been through so much – lost her own body; lost Malthsuius; lost Conquo. Uriel felt that he ought to give her one last chance and so he resisted Gupta’s suggestion that she wipe Xambria’s mind completely and insisted he be allowed to take her into custody (where he hoped to talk her round). Korrigan extracted his promise that she would not, could not escape. Uriel confirmed this, and bound her psyche to the head of the duplicant she once inhabited, before pulling it off to take with them.
They were suddenly interrupted by the sounding of a car horn. Sitting in one of the road-cars was El Extraño. “I am here to save you, despite this dragon’s attempt to conquer my Homeland,” he said. “We, of course, defeated our overlords long before you even considered defeating this Obscurati. The noble line of El Extraño can keep a secret, and just like the enlightened people of Ber, we shall cooperate with those who are unlike us, no matter their flaws.”
The kobold pointed at Pemberton and snapped, “Do not interrupt! My operatives traversed the ocean by hiding inside of undead whales, which your kraken could not detect. I am amazed you did not consider this option. They then spread across northern Lanjyr and have reported to me critical intelligence. They have already prepared a location near this Forward Symposium where you will be able to hide. It is large enough.”
Again he pointed at Pemberton, his face severe, and cut the man off just as he was about to speak. “Failed usurpers will hold their tongue! The Obscurati have placed a divination beacon that disrupts information in a factory complex in Cherage, where they are slowly constructing a second colossus. My people discovered it by granting hivemind consciousness to the rats of the city and establishing two competing spy guilds, which we reward with pepper cheese. These rats have excellent taste. We regrettably have not refined their fashion sense. Without being detected they have inscribed the names of Pemberton and Brakken into the beacon’s stone obelisk. Even as we speak, they are adding the names of the Risuri constables known collectively as ‘the Unit’. Now you shall be protected by the same anti-divination wards the Obscruati ringbearers had. Their preparations for the symposium will likely keep them from detecting our sabotage, but do not rely on it in the long term. My eyes will handle the mundanities of your mission to this symposium, and will report any information they discover in the city.”
El Extraño glared at Pemberton and twitched the scaled tendrils of his moustache. “You will want to remove the pyrotechnics I hid inside your bedchamber. That was not an assassination attempt. I had a better surprise appearance planned, but I had to abandon it because a fleet of Danorans is about to attack the island, and it is in our mutual interest for you to evacuate at once. You should get to the fortress now, but not to defend it. The facility was never designed to resist an attack with the current nature of magic.”
He threw leather bag out of the car, to land at their feet, then shifted the vehicle into gear and drove off. “Do not be impressed,” he called over the roar of the engine, as he drove away into the jungle.
Now they were one car short for their journey back, but looking inside the bag they discovered that El Extraño had left them with teleportation scrolls.
“We should all just retire and leave the Ob to him,” said Korrigan.
DM's Note: Apologies to the original author of 99% of the above. I use the text of the original adventure in my session reports when our campaign doesn't diverge much, or when there is a lot of exposition. When I post here, all I'm doing is reposting those reports, which I write so my players have an ongoing record of this very complex campaign. There are a few additions here - most notably Xambria's reappearance - but not many.
On Xambria: She joined our party for a time (many years, in fact), but became enamored of the Ob on Mutravir and exposed the unit, hoping to capture and persuade them. Things did not go according to plan. Left behind with the Ghost Council, I figured the Ob would soon realise she was an asset. As an expert on all things Ancient, and inhabiting a mechanical body that might better resist the energies of the Axis Seal, I thought now would be an appropriate and fun moment to reintroduce her - not as a 'monster' to be fought, but as a defeated foe, for them to make a moral decision over.
