This is the introduction I am working on for a campaign I am planning to run, basically a Planescape d20 Modern, starting with information for the players on where PS left off. Just looking for a little feedback, thanks.
"My constellation (is like an animal which) reclines in its den in heaven; some men call me the Great Bear, but others the Offspring of a Dragon. Moreover, a smaller constellation accompanies my constellation, for the high position and throne of my father is always in the sky. So do not ask me so many things, Solomon, for eventually your kingdom will be divided. This glory of yours is temporary. You have us to torture for a little while; then we shall disperse among human beings again with the result that we shall be worshipped as gods because men do not know the names of the angels who rule over us."
- Testament of Solomon 5:4-5
Prologue to the history of the Great Planar Revolution by the chronicler Kamal Puri, Master of the Library, Historian of the Planes, written in 506, AR*:
The following is a summary of the events that led up to our current times and my current observations. When I left the great library many centuries ago never did I imagine the events that would unfold before my eyes. My time there had come to a close and I left my work in the capable hands of my ascetics to pursue a higher calling, a calling so great that neither I nor my lord had any knowledge of its implications or ramifications. It all began, oddly enough, with the Great Modron March. As has been described by many others, the Modron every 17 Grand Cycles (one Grand Cycle is 17 Cycles, and one Cycle is roughly one prime year) would embark on a great journey across the planes. Counted on like clockwork, at this regular interval an army of Modrons would erupt from Mechanus through the Portal of Automata and head toward Fortitude. From there they would travel to Arcadia and on through that pleasant land to Mount Celestia, passing though the portal that leads to Excelsior. This process is continued as the March travels clockwise around the Great Wheel, surveying and taking stock of any changes to the planes since the last journey nearly 300 years earlier. No one but the great Primus himself had any inkling why these marches occurred, but many had guesses. The only thing that anyone knew for certain was that every 17 Grand Cycles, and 17 Grand Cycles to the second, the Great March would occur; however this time that was not the case. This time, and unknown why, the march began about 100 years early. This event needed to be seen in person, it was something so grand in the history of the cosmos that my lord felt the only way to do it justice was for me to be there personally. It was with a heavy heart, and heavier tome, that I left the library to follow the Modron and record the events for all sentient beings.
Having not been a witness to previous marches, I can only comment on my observations of this one. The Modrons proceeded across the plane in chaotic fury, spreading out and observing, entering, and cataloging everything on every plane at a fervent pace. From all I have read of the Modrons this seems slightly out of their nature, even though on the marches they generally acted strangely. They moved from plane to plane gathering steam seemingly racing against some unseen clock. Any Modrons that could not keep up with the March’s progress were left behind to fend for themselves and find their own path back to Mechanus. The March followed the ageless route, however while the route had not changed, the contents in its path had. Modrons crashed through town and field alike not slowing for proxy or petitioner. Each of their encounters and progress I have recorded in a separate tome, but suffice to say that no stone was left unturned and no back alley left unexplored. All in the path of the Modron felt their touch and watchful eye, each weighed and judged, recorded in some grand catalog hidden away from all but Modronkind. Then suddenly, at a point deep on the plane of Pandemonium, they simply stopped. The Modrons dispersed and returned to Mechanus. Puzzled, I attempted to ask one of them what had happened, and he responded “The March has ended, I am to return to Mechanus.”
Not satisfied with this I followed the Modrons back to Mechanus to try to get some answers to what had happened. The Clockwork Nirvana of Mechanus – never a more ordered and straightforward realm - here I would certainly get the answers I sought. I followed my Modron friends to Regulus and the sixty four cogs that made up the home realm of the Modrons. I petitioned for, and to my surprise received, an audience with Primus himself. It was here I learned the gravity of what had happened, and why the Modrons had been acting so strangely. Orcus, one of the Princes of the Abyss, had returned from death as the undead god Tenebrous (he was slain by Kiaransalee, the Drow God of Undeath who overthrew Orcus and stole his realm). Tenebrous learned the power of the Last Word, a spell that could undue the Gods themselves. Upon his return he was without his rod, and in order to use this power he needed it in his possession. Orcus came to Primus to ask where his rod was, and Primus responded truthfully that he did not know. Orcus, unsatisfied with this answer, slayed Primus and took his place. He sent the Modrons out on the march early to search for his rod, buried unknown to him on the deepest layer of Pandemonium by Kiaransalee. Before Orcus could discover this, a group of adventurers found the rod and waited for Orcus to come. When The March discovered its whereabouts the march ended and as the modrons returned to Mechanus Orcus came and revealed himself. In an epic battle he was slain by the adventures and his rod was destroyed, hopefully never to be seen again. But as always with great power, “That is not dead which can eternally lie...” After the death of Orcus, a Secundus was elected Primus by the Modrons, and it is he who revealed all of this to me. He then informed me that the March would continue as planned on the 17th Grand Cycle, and I was more than welcome to follow and chronicle the event for the rest of the multiverse. For now however, the walls of Regulus were to be closed as the Modrons recovered from the great turmoil.
And like clockwork the 17th Grand Cycle began and the March launched forward. I recorded this March the same as the last, although this one lacked the same chaotic intensity of the first. If I knew then what I now know, I would have studied much more carefully the Modron as they walked the planes, for after this March the multiverse would never be the same. The last march had left off in Pandemonium, but we continued through that realm and on towards Baator. Marches from the past continued through the outer planes and then back to Mechanus, completing a path around the wheel. This one however did not return to Mechanus. Instead, the march proceeded from Archeron through to the Astral Plane, and from there down to the Ethereal. From what I know, never in the history of any of the Marches has this occurred. The Modrons continued on relentlessly (we had now been traveling for over 20 years) down through the elemental planes and all of their associated meta-planes. Once all of these were recorded, they began the long march home. I returned with the Modrons to Regulus, and was there as they presented the final report to Primus. He was unsatisfied with the results. He said the planes had fallen out of balance, that many primes had lost touch with the astral. He thought that since the events of the last march, and since his recent ascension, it was time for a “Reconnection.” The way he described this was as a reestablishment of the laws of the multiverse; a reordering of everything in time and space. In addition, many of the laws would be changed to ensure that this would never need to happen again. Mechanus would need to be halted, and in doing so time would stop across all realms. Preparations were made and as the Modrons busied themselves I watched in awe. Primus descended from his throne as a large pedestal arose from the center of the chamber. From the surrounding ante chambers four Sucondi came forward to surround Primus. Beyond them I could see movement and in my minds eye I saw ring after ring of Modron proceeding outward from this center. Primus approached the pedestal and raised his arms. As he did so a loud trumpet sounded out throughout the hall and rang across what seemed like all of Mechanus. Slowly he lowered his arms to touch the pedestal. The weight of time pressed down upon my brow as his hands approached the stand, his arms slowing while at the same time rushing to touch the stone, my insides coming apart as I felt them coming together. Closing his arms to the pedestal I was confused by my senses as if all things were becoming one, hot becoming cold, light becoming dark, heavy becoming light, and so on. And then in an instant it was gone. His hands were on the pedestal and everything continued on as if nothing had happened.
“There…” said Primus, “it is done.” He did not seem to notice my presence as he continued past me to retake his seat on his throne.
"My constellation (is like an animal which) reclines in its den in heaven; some men call me the Great Bear, but others the Offspring of a Dragon. Moreover, a smaller constellation accompanies my constellation, for the high position and throne of my father is always in the sky. So do not ask me so many things, Solomon, for eventually your kingdom will be divided. This glory of yours is temporary. You have us to torture for a little while; then we shall disperse among human beings again with the result that we shall be worshipped as gods because men do not know the names of the angels who rule over us."
- Testament of Solomon 5:4-5
Prologue to the history of the Great Planar Revolution by the chronicler Kamal Puri, Master of the Library, Historian of the Planes, written in 506, AR*:
The following is a summary of the events that led up to our current times and my current observations. When I left the great library many centuries ago never did I imagine the events that would unfold before my eyes. My time there had come to a close and I left my work in the capable hands of my ascetics to pursue a higher calling, a calling so great that neither I nor my lord had any knowledge of its implications or ramifications. It all began, oddly enough, with the Great Modron March. As has been described by many others, the Modron every 17 Grand Cycles (one Grand Cycle is 17 Cycles, and one Cycle is roughly one prime year) would embark on a great journey across the planes. Counted on like clockwork, at this regular interval an army of Modrons would erupt from Mechanus through the Portal of Automata and head toward Fortitude. From there they would travel to Arcadia and on through that pleasant land to Mount Celestia, passing though the portal that leads to Excelsior. This process is continued as the March travels clockwise around the Great Wheel, surveying and taking stock of any changes to the planes since the last journey nearly 300 years earlier. No one but the great Primus himself had any inkling why these marches occurred, but many had guesses. The only thing that anyone knew for certain was that every 17 Grand Cycles, and 17 Grand Cycles to the second, the Great March would occur; however this time that was not the case. This time, and unknown why, the march began about 100 years early. This event needed to be seen in person, it was something so grand in the history of the cosmos that my lord felt the only way to do it justice was for me to be there personally. It was with a heavy heart, and heavier tome, that I left the library to follow the Modron and record the events for all sentient beings.
Having not been a witness to previous marches, I can only comment on my observations of this one. The Modrons proceeded across the plane in chaotic fury, spreading out and observing, entering, and cataloging everything on every plane at a fervent pace. From all I have read of the Modrons this seems slightly out of their nature, even though on the marches they generally acted strangely. They moved from plane to plane gathering steam seemingly racing against some unseen clock. Any Modrons that could not keep up with the March’s progress were left behind to fend for themselves and find their own path back to Mechanus. The March followed the ageless route, however while the route had not changed, the contents in its path had. Modrons crashed through town and field alike not slowing for proxy or petitioner. Each of their encounters and progress I have recorded in a separate tome, but suffice to say that no stone was left unturned and no back alley left unexplored. All in the path of the Modron felt their touch and watchful eye, each weighed and judged, recorded in some grand catalog hidden away from all but Modronkind. Then suddenly, at a point deep on the plane of Pandemonium, they simply stopped. The Modrons dispersed and returned to Mechanus. Puzzled, I attempted to ask one of them what had happened, and he responded “The March has ended, I am to return to Mechanus.”
Not satisfied with this I followed the Modrons back to Mechanus to try to get some answers to what had happened. The Clockwork Nirvana of Mechanus – never a more ordered and straightforward realm - here I would certainly get the answers I sought. I followed my Modron friends to Regulus and the sixty four cogs that made up the home realm of the Modrons. I petitioned for, and to my surprise received, an audience with Primus himself. It was here I learned the gravity of what had happened, and why the Modrons had been acting so strangely. Orcus, one of the Princes of the Abyss, had returned from death as the undead god Tenebrous (he was slain by Kiaransalee, the Drow God of Undeath who overthrew Orcus and stole his realm). Tenebrous learned the power of the Last Word, a spell that could undue the Gods themselves. Upon his return he was without his rod, and in order to use this power he needed it in his possession. Orcus came to Primus to ask where his rod was, and Primus responded truthfully that he did not know. Orcus, unsatisfied with this answer, slayed Primus and took his place. He sent the Modrons out on the march early to search for his rod, buried unknown to him on the deepest layer of Pandemonium by Kiaransalee. Before Orcus could discover this, a group of adventurers found the rod and waited for Orcus to come. When The March discovered its whereabouts the march ended and as the modrons returned to Mechanus Orcus came and revealed himself. In an epic battle he was slain by the adventures and his rod was destroyed, hopefully never to be seen again. But as always with great power, “That is not dead which can eternally lie...” After the death of Orcus, a Secundus was elected Primus by the Modrons, and it is he who revealed all of this to me. He then informed me that the March would continue as planned on the 17th Grand Cycle, and I was more than welcome to follow and chronicle the event for the rest of the multiverse. For now however, the walls of Regulus were to be closed as the Modrons recovered from the great turmoil.
And like clockwork the 17th Grand Cycle began and the March launched forward. I recorded this March the same as the last, although this one lacked the same chaotic intensity of the first. If I knew then what I now know, I would have studied much more carefully the Modron as they walked the planes, for after this March the multiverse would never be the same. The last march had left off in Pandemonium, but we continued through that realm and on towards Baator. Marches from the past continued through the outer planes and then back to Mechanus, completing a path around the wheel. This one however did not return to Mechanus. Instead, the march proceeded from Archeron through to the Astral Plane, and from there down to the Ethereal. From what I know, never in the history of any of the Marches has this occurred. The Modrons continued on relentlessly (we had now been traveling for over 20 years) down through the elemental planes and all of their associated meta-planes. Once all of these were recorded, they began the long march home. I returned with the Modrons to Regulus, and was there as they presented the final report to Primus. He was unsatisfied with the results. He said the planes had fallen out of balance, that many primes had lost touch with the astral. He thought that since the events of the last march, and since his recent ascension, it was time for a “Reconnection.” The way he described this was as a reestablishment of the laws of the multiverse; a reordering of everything in time and space. In addition, many of the laws would be changed to ensure that this would never need to happen again. Mechanus would need to be halted, and in doing so time would stop across all realms. Preparations were made and as the Modrons busied themselves I watched in awe. Primus descended from his throne as a large pedestal arose from the center of the chamber. From the surrounding ante chambers four Sucondi came forward to surround Primus. Beyond them I could see movement and in my minds eye I saw ring after ring of Modron proceeding outward from this center. Primus approached the pedestal and raised his arms. As he did so a loud trumpet sounded out throughout the hall and rang across what seemed like all of Mechanus. Slowly he lowered his arms to touch the pedestal. The weight of time pressed down upon my brow as his hands approached the stand, his arms slowing while at the same time rushing to touch the stone, my insides coming apart as I felt them coming together. Closing his arms to the pedestal I was confused by my senses as if all things were becoming one, hot becoming cold, light becoming dark, heavy becoming light, and so on. And then in an instant it was gone. His hands were on the pedestal and everything continued on as if nothing had happened.
“There…” said Primus, “it is done.” He did not seem to notice my presence as he continued past me to retake his seat on his throne.
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