Piratecat said:
...You. Have. No. Idea. The scene you're about to see is one of the most memorable in the campaign for me. Man, Sagiro is a big jerk!
You're not
quite about to see it; the Company managed to dawdle an awful lot before heading over to see their old pal Shreen. Soon, though.
Sagiro’s Story Hour, Part 281
Preparations
Dinner at the Golden Goblet is appropriately sumptuous: six courses, all expertly prepared; more excellent wine; delicious desserts. A cadre of discrete servants attends them at all times. The Company shares the main dining room with about a dozen other guests, all in traditional formal Djawish attire.
No one attacks. No one poisons them. The furniture doesn’t animate. It’s simply lovely.
After the meal, Aravis finds something on the floor outside the door of his room. It’s a tiny little altar of stones, on which is balanced a tiny cup of milk – that Pewter immediately drinks. Aravis looks around curiously but there’s no sign of who might have left it there.
Inside his (locked) room is another altar, this one atop the wardrobe, and with a dead mouse instead of milk. Pewter leaps up and gives it a sniff.
“I usually like to kill them myself, but it’s still reasonably fresh.”
“It’s all yours,” says Aravis. He has a strong suspicion as to how it got there. “I’m going to bed.”
That night Morningstar visits each of her friends’ dreams – there is no taint of Dralla in any of them. In fact, the Company seems more relaxed than they have been in quite some time. Feather beds will do that.
* *
The next morning the entire Company is blissfully free of rash. Dranko opines that, since they’re actively moving towards fulfilling their promise to Shreen, the Curse of Dralla has temporarily abated.
“We should consider the possibility that we’ll just have to hand the Maze over,” he says.
“And how do we go about doing that?” asks Morningstar.
“I don’t know,” Dranko confesses.
“How would we even get it out of Aravis’s head?” asks Grey Wolf.
“I don’t know that either,” says Dranko. “I’m just saying it’s a possibility.”
“I’d say ‘last resort,’” says Grey Wolf.
“And technically we didn’t promise to
give the Maze to Shreen,” says Ernie. “We only said we’d
bring it to him.”
It remains to be seen if Dralla will acknowledge the distinction.
A servant knocks on the door, asking if the Company would like breakfast in their room, or in the commons. They decide on a private meal, since the topic of discussion will be Shreen the Fair and how to deal with him.
Aravis, wondering if the Crosser’s Maze can be used to increase the accuracy of
teleportation to locations only seen in another time line, decides he wants to have a talk with King Vhadish XXIII. When he enters the Maze, the first thing he notices is that something is wrong with it. It’s not disastrous, or even particularly alarming, but the whole thing seems to be – well, vibrating, for want of a better word, and it gives him a headache. Aravis finds Vhadish in his fortress, still guarded by steel-handed golems.
King Vhadish appears before him, looking peevish.
“Young Aravis,” he says.
“Master Vhadish,” Aravis bows.
“I am quite busy,” says Vhadish. “But I can spare a moment or two.”
“I have two questions for you,” says Aravis. “Have you noticed that there is something wrong with the Maze?
“Yes,” agrees Vhadish. “There is. I assume it’s your fault.”
“Probably, yes,” admits Aravis.
“What did you do?” asks Vhadish.
Aravis explains his recent time-travels, as well as the Curse of Dralla. Vhadish has little interest in Shreen the Fair, but listens intently to the Aravis’s accounts of temporal journeys.
“Time travel,” Vhadish says to himself when Aravis is finished. “Interesting that such a thing is possible. I imagine that the Maze is reacting to that in some fashion. Can you fix it?”
“I will try,” promises Aravis.
“Please do. It's annoying.”
“The second question I have,” says Aravis, “is: can I use the Maze to correct teleportation?”
“I doubt the Maze was designed for that,” says Vhadish. “Perhaps you could bend it to your will if you were mighty enough. But I doubt you are. Maybe with sufficient training, you could be elevated to a sufficient level of mental prowess. I could take the time to train you again, though you are already in my debt.”
“Right now I don’t have the time,” says Aravis.
“Very well,” says Vhadish, looking bored. “As it stands, I haven’t even thought of a task for you in regards to your existing debt. Every time I think of some job I want done, I come to the conclusion that it would be easier simply to do it myself. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have many things to attend to. Good day, young Aravis.”
* *
Before their appointment with One Shining Mirror that afternoon, the Company discusses the Guild of Chains. Dranko decides he’ll spend the morning collecting information about them. He uses his
robe of blending to disguise himself (as Turlus, of all people) and presents himself at one of the Guild’s own offices as a bard and historian. He is writing a book about the Guild of Chains and its many glorious contributions to the Djawish society and economy. He desires to know how the Guild of Chains came into being.
He is handed off to a minor functionary who is happy to sit and talk with such an illustrious author, especially since there is no particular secret about the Guild’s origins. What Dranko is told is this:
The Guild of Chains, before it was called that, was actually a branch of the Djawish government, as slavery has been an acceptable punishment for criminals since the city’s founding. Certain humanitarian factions in the noble court eventually became uncomfortable with the close connection, and the government office in charge of administering sentences of slavery was calved off as a separate organization, which named itself the Guild of Chains.
As a separate entity seeking to increase its financial means, the Guild of Chains sent a prospecting team into the mountains east of Djaw. There they discovered a small and scattered tribe of dwarves, who themselves had recently fled from the mountains’ interior from encroaching ogres. The story is that, of the small number of dwarves who actually escaped, many had been inmates in a dwarfish prison. That was making it difficult for the dwarven tribal elders to maintain basic order, let along establish a new dwarvish nation. The Guild of Chains struck a bargain with the dwarves: they would provide the dwarves with the supplies needed to bootstrap their society,
and purchase the worst of their criminals to boost their inventory. In return the dwarves would grant limited mining rights to the Guild. So it was that over the course of many decades, the dwarves managed to establish the Kingdom of Gurund.
Eventually, however, there arose a faction within Gurund that felt it was immoral to sell criminals to the Guild, especially since over time the severity of the crimes required for such sales had grown small. Even petty thieves and vandals were being sold into slavery. This schism grew more and more intractable until it led to a civil war. The Guild, of course, threw their weight behind the pro-slavery faction, and that assistance made the difference in the outcome. But the new ruling government of Gurund was now further indebted to the Guild of Chains, and so things began (from the Dwarves’ point of view) to spiral out of control. The dwarves grew ever more surly and resentful, but the Guild had grown so strong that there was nothing they could do about the all-pervasive institution of slavery.
Technically, Dranko is assured, the dwarves sold into slavery are still all criminals and debtors, and the Guild has the full cooperation of the Gurundian government. It’s a shame, truly, that so many dwarves cannot accept the status quo.
* *
In the early afternoon the Company visits One Shining Mirror, High Priest of the Sun Goddess Kemma in Djaw. Mirror doesn’t have much to offer regarding Shreen the Fair or the temple of Dralla – it seems that Shreen has laid low ever since the party’s previous visit, and there has been little activity from the poor Drallan presence in the city.
On the other hand, the party has much information to provide. One Shining Mirror listens to every word they have to say about One Certain Step, as they recount in full his role in their adventures. They make sure to emphasize his honor and sacrifice but don’t gloss over his spiritual wavering and subsequent atonement. Dranko tells of Step’s defiance of the Demon Lord Tapheon, and they finish with his final words and deeds as they entered the Lightless Room. A scribe busily records the entire tale.
Before the Company leaves, an underpriest shows them to the stables, where Thunder’s glowing stall is kept clean and empty. It has been designated a holy site by the church, and a few pilgrims have already prayed at the stall of One Certain Step’s horse.
* *
Back at the Golden Goblet the Company continues to discuss strategy – should they be looking to negotiate? Subdue? Annihilate? Could Shreen be swayed with gifts? Maybe the curse will be lifted in Shreen is killed? And what spells should they prepare, or cast ahead of time? One thing they all agree on: they should ask to meet him on neutral ground, and not at the Plaza of Glory.
One thing is for sure: more information is never a bad thing. Morningstar attempts to scout the Plaza of Glory (site of Shreen’s temple) in Ava Dormo, but finds it protected there by an impenetrable darkness that extends several blocks in each direction.
“Shreen’s subscribed to the Mokad School of Dream Warding,” she tells the others.
Aravis decides to cast
vision, with Shreen the Fair as his subject, and this provides an interesting vignette. His vision goes black as he casts, and his feels submerged in darkness. A small glow forms out of the black, a circular pattern on a floor, coruscating with red and gray light. Then Aravis sees the silhouette of a humpbacked humanoid creature, pacing back and forth in front of the circle. There’s no way for Aravis to place the scene, or even tell if it’s indoors or out.
The red light of the circle flashes brightly; Shreen turns to look. A tall beastly humanoid has appeared standing in the circle, a vile creature with snakes coming out of its midsection. The two beings regard each other for a moment, and then Shreen starts to chuckle in his distinctive broken-glass voice.
“This way, this way,” urges Shreen, and the monster steps from the circle, following.
The
vision ends.
Whatever else the vision might indicate, it leaves Aravis and the others with an even stronger sense that Shreen would use the Maze to evil ends.
“If it looks like an abomination,” says Morningstar, “it’s an abomination. I think the Vree are the only exception we’ve ever run across.”
The others agree. It looks like the encounter will entail more ass-kicking than calm discussion.
A servant comes by asking if they need any laundry done. The Company politely declines, and Dranko asks if the Goblet could stop sending servants for a while, as they wish more privacy.
“Maybe we should invite Shreen to meet us here,” suggests Grey Wolf, mostly kidding.
“That would make this the most expensive inn we’d have ever destroyed,” says Ernie,
“No!” objects Kibi. “This is the only place in Djaw I actually
like.”
A thought comes to Dranko then, and he smiles to himself. He excuses himself from the room for a moment, and once outside he uses his
robe of blending to look exactly like Kibi. He sticks his finger in his nose and goes in search of a servant.
“Excuse me,” he says in his best imitation of Kibi’s voice. “My name is Kibilhathur Bimson. As a dwarf, I don’t have very good personal hygiene. And I need a snot rag, because my finger is holding a giant booger inside. If you could get me one please, I would appreciate it. And perhaps one for my bottom as well. Just have it brought up to my room.”
The servant is unflappable. “Of course, sir. Will you require any medical assistance?”
“No, no! It’s actually rather fun. Thank you, though.”
He returns to the rooms and changes back, uttering “Kibi is a genius” to dislodge his finger while savoring the irony. Inside, he approaches the dwarf.
“Kibi, I want you to know: no hard feelings about the gloves. I don’t think we really need to worry about removing the side-effect. They do the job I need them to. Thank you for making them.”
Kibi wonders how suspicious he should be of this change in attitude, but he bows graciously and answers: “I’m glad you like them.”
* *
Ernie casts a
sending to Shreen the Fair, requesting a meeting the next afternoon on neutral ground. But the answer is implacable:
You will bring it to me here, after sundown tomorrow. You will hand over my prizes, as requested.
Ernie repeats this to the others, adding: “You will be a big old jerk!”
“We made an offer that would have spared his shrine considerable damage,” says Grey Wolf. “He can hardly blame us now.”
There’s a knock at the door.
“Didn’t we ask for privacy?” asks Morningstar.
Dranko opens the door. “Hi there,” he says.
“Delivery for Master Bimson.”
The servant hands Kibi two clean and folded linens. “As you requested, sir.”
“As I requested?” asks Kibi, but the servant is already leaving.
Kibi gives Dranko a funny look “Does this have anything to do with your recent change of heart?
“Yes. I think it might,” says Dranko. He turns and walks whistling to the other side of the room, where he plucks a grape from a table and pops it into his mouth.
The only additional action of import the Company executes that day is a
divination spell, cast by Ernie.
“Will we do well, if we go to the Temple of Dralla to meet Shreen the Fair?”
The answer comes to him:
“They will take what is not given. The darkness presses close, and does not lift.”
“So negotiation isn’t likely,” Morningstar opines.
“I think we should open negotiations by burning the whole place to the ground,” offers Grey Wolf.
* *
Heedless of Shreen’s preferred schedule the Company heads to the Plaza of Glory at noon the following day, having foregone the Golden Goblet’s excessive breakfast for a
heroes’ feast. The sun is dim behind a thick cloud layer; drizzle starts to fall soon after they depart. Their trip through Djaw shows them every strata of the city’s social structure – they leave from the wealthiest neighborhoods and travel through genteel residential blocks, marketplaces and parks, then poorer areas, and finally the squalor of a forgotten corner of the city wherein they find the Plaza of Glory.
The rain grows steady as they walk. The Plaza of Glory is as they remember: a little courtyard of broken flagstones and abandoned tenements, far from any thoroughfare and watched by a cracked statue of an angel in the center of a dried-up fountain. Beyond one of the boarded up walls of empty homes lies the Shrine of Dralla, and its Night Master, Shreen the Fair.
In the spattering rain, the angel weeps.
...to be continued...