Sagiro’s Story Hour, Part 323
Dead in the Water
The Archmage Salk leans forward on the couch. “Does the Black Circle know how to activate this gartine arch?”
“The details were not included in Cor Kek’s journal,” says Rosetta, “but that doesn’t meant they don’t know how. I think we have to assume that they do know, given the other details I read. Please, allow me to continue. There’s more.
“As I said, there’s an army of undead guarding the portal. It’s called the Sworn Legion, and is nigh-undefeatable by mortals. The Legion is warded against positive energy, and they cannot be turned while in a place so holy – or unholy, if you will – to Drosh, God of Death. But as you know – and I understand that Ozilinsh’s Company is at least partially responsible for this – apparently Drosh is no longer exerting any influence on Abernia. Therefore, a weakness Drosh never thought he’d have to worry about when setting his defenses, is now being exploited.”
Dranko groans. “Uh oh…”
Rosetta smiles grimly. “The Black Circle has sent their strongest necromancer, and its own army of undead to defeat the Sworn Legion and activate the skysteel ring. For while the Sworn Legion could thwart any assault by living men, it is entirely ill-suited to fight other undead. And while I don’t know where this army of undead came from, or how they propose to get it over there, it’s certain that they have one.”
“We know where it came from,” says Aravis. “The huge army of undead that vanished, last seen walking into the river near Kai Kin…”
Ernie nods. “And undead don’t breathe, and don’t care how long they walk.”
More clues fall into place. The Company recalls that the necromancer Zeg had notes on keeping undead preserved while under water for long stretches, and on the topic of improving their ability to fight other undead. And one of Aravis’s visions from the Maze was of some large skeletal creature striding under water.
Rosetta frowns when she hears all this, but does have one piece of good news. “They wanted to have their two most potent necromancers involved in the attack – Zeg and Ten Old Bones – but Zeg could not be contacted, so they proceeded without him. Their timetable was important to them. And that’s the most troubling thing about all of this. As far as I can tell, the army may already be there, in the ravines. At least, because of the restriction on divinations, the Black Circle has no better plan than to get their undead army into the ravines, and march them around until they find the place.”
Ernie smiles. “That must be particularly frustrating for them!”
“Oh, I hope so,” Rosetta agrees. “Unfortunately, I’m hard pressed to think about how you could do better. And they have a head start, and can split up into multiple scouting parties, and here you are, listening to me talk. They could be finding it and opening that gate right now. Given that they have some means of communicating with Naradawk on Volpos, he’s probably waiting on the other side of the Skysteel ring, ready the moment it opens.”
She turns to the Company. “I am told that you are the likeliest members of the Spire Guard to take this job.”
Over the mind-link, the party decides that they’ve heard enough, and it’s time to share their good news with the assemblage.
“We’re going to make your afternoon,” says Ernie.
“I hope so,” says Rosetta, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.
Ernie holds up the bag of holding. “Inside this bag is the body of Cor Kek.”
“And all of their other leaders are dead as well,” says Aravis.
“The reason you saw them leave,” says Kibi, “is that they left to find us. Which they did, though that didn’t go very well for them.”
“I saw you this morning,” says Dranko to an increasingly wide-eyed Rosetta. “I walked right past you while you were sitting on a bench, reading a book.”
“And you ignored me?”
“It seemed like the thing to do.”
Rosetta nods her head. “It was the thing to do. That was exceptionally good judgment on your part.”
“Thanks.”
Dranko then explains briefly about Mokad and Praska, how he infiltrated the temple at Kai Kin, used a gem of soul trapping, and then how they performed their ritual back in Kallor.
“Wait,” Rosetta interrupts. “You performed the Ritual of Seven Stars? On your own? Are you aware of the danger to your souls – to your inherent goodness – from performing Black Circle rituals?"
Dranko shrugs. “I was aware that my friend’s body was possessed by a big jerk. Anyway, they showed up about half way through, and we killed them all.”
“Was Tel Mek with them?” asks Rosetta, leaning forward eagerly. “Tai-En?” She describes the members of the Black Circle leadership.
“We think so,” says Aravis. “We killed twelve altogether. Only a single guard fled. After killing them all, we performed the ritual. Mokad’s soul is gone forever.”
“Hmm,” says Rosetta. “There might be someone left who could resurrect Cor Kek. There’s not much you can do about that, though it would take them a great deal of time. My goodness. Cor Kek, Mokad, Tai En and Tel Mek, all in one day. Most impressive!”
“Someone should check out Praska quite thoroughly,” Aravis suggests. “Just to be sure. It turns out Califax was right all along.”
Rosetta turns to Duke Nigel. “I think that these members of the Spire Guard should be taken off of the suspect list. Because, while I would believe in large amounts of subterfuge and deception on the part of the Black Circle, a plan that involves slaying their High Priest, and their strongest warrior, and their most accomplished wizard, AND Mokad… well, that stretches even my imagination beyond credulity.”
Ernie blinks. “We were on a suspect list?”
“Of course you were! Based on your constant interactions with the Black Circle, it was only prudent. But either way, I don’t have the time to investigate you further; you’re needed to save the world a fourth, or maybe fifth time. I’ve lost track.”
Aravis smiles at her. “Well, it’s nice to be off your suspect list. And so you know, you’re off of ours too.”
“You have a suspect list? What did you suspect me of?"
Dranko grins. “When Pewter saw you in the Black Circle temple, we thought ‘either she’s a horrible turncoat, or she’s really clever.’”
“I’m glad it’s the latter. Understand that my mistrust of you has never been borne of personal dislike.”
Over the mind-link, the Company all agree that this statement does not apply in the other direction.
/*/
The Company spreads out their map of Kivia on the table of the Greenhouse living room. Where once it represented thousands of square miles of mystery and adventure, now it's mostly familiar.
To the far northwest, the bellicose kingdom of Delfir is separated from its neighbors by the Gorkandi mountain range, though there is an egress into Tev (not far from the Delfirian Arch) via “hookbat pass.” Due east of Delfir lies Bederen, a sparse and Spartan country that is also home to Evenstar and her cadre of Ellish devotees. To the south are the sprawling farmlands and green hills of Tev.
Moving south-eastward, the simple country of Dir-Tolia borders Tev; the two are strong trading partners, and the bustling free city of Trev-Lyndyn stands watch by the Tev-Bilin river that forms the border between the two countries.
The center of Kivia is dominated by the Endless Wood, a vast and dense forest nearly five hundred miles on a side. To the north of the forest is Anlakis, a warlike country of loosely-allied nomadic tribes, all of whom revere Tiria, Goddess of Chaos. Bederen has built a stout stone wall along its border with Anlakis, stretching in a 250-mile diagonal across barren rocks and hills.
Moving clockwise from Anlakis, one finds the halfling kingdom of Appleseed abutting the Endless Wood on its eastern border. South of the forest are the hot grassy Plains of the White Sun, where sit the five Jewels of the Plains: Mirj, Djerreth, Djaw, Fanaam and (technically) Levenmud. This last city rests on the shore of the Sea of Snakes, and is considered by travelers no more of a “jewel” than Mirj is considered hospitable. The majestic metropolis of Djaw occupies both the geographical and cultural centers of Kivia, boasting not only the largest population of any city in the known world, but also an abundance of art, science, magic, fine cuisine, cutting-edge architecture and sport. The White Sun Cartel is the most powerful economic force on Kivia, the Guild of Chains operates a thriving slave trade, and the Jewels are said to be capable of fielding an army the better of any on the continent.
To the south of the White Plains are the secluded and xenophobic kingdoms of Seresef and Ocir, the former being famous for its exquisite gemstones, the latter for its position as the Black Circle’s base of operations. The city of Kai Kin, second only to Djaw in size and influence, lies along Kivia’s southern coast, where the 1500 mile Eternal River empties into the Sea of Strife.
The lands to the southeast of the Eternal River, while comprising approximately 35% of Kivia’s landmass, are largely desolate and unpopulated. (The only country marked on the map east of the river is Gurund, the dwarvish state largely in thrall to the Guild of Chains. The Stoneguard Mountains run parallel to the Eternal River, and Gurund is sandwiched between the two.) To the far southeast of Kivia is the Jungle of Dreams, wherein still sits, in all likelihood, the bottle containing the magical City of Zhamir. To the far northeast are the blasted rocky plains of Surgoil, home to giants, beholders and blood foxes, and the beholder tower hiding Het Branoi’s modest exterior.
And across all of those lands, from Delfir to the jungle, from Appleseed to Kai Kin, the Company has ventured in these last few years. Only one area of the map remains unexplored: the farthest east, labeled “Il Drosh” by a single runic letter. It lies to the north of the tremendous Black Bay that separates it from the Jungle of Dreams. The cartographer who drew this map – someone named One Far Wanderer – has warned that this region’s depiction is “…largely based on rumor and myth – let the traveler beware.” In particular there are two features on this part of the map that invite curiosity and dread: a series of long gashes haphazardly drawn, and a spot of blackness in the center of rough concentric rings.
The gashes are probably the ravines mentioned in Cor Kek’s journal. (The black spot is something else entirely; the Company will learn its nature in time, and won’t like it one bit.) Ernie traces an idle finger over the jagged marks.
“The moment we found out that no one had ever been there to map it, we knew we’d have to go there some day.”
Dranko scratches his stubble. “How will we know which necromantic army is which?”
Aravis thinks about the skeletal army they encountered in the wastes west of Djaw. “The one that has the huge, multi-legged skeletal things on its side is the bad one. But I’m far more worried about how we’re going to seal the portal permanently.”
“It’s just gartine,” says Grey Wolf. “Can’t we disintegrate it?”
No one knows.
/*/
With the meeting of the Spire adjourned, the Company spends some time identifying and divvying up the loot from their battle with Cor Kek. Eddings, exhausted, looks exasperatedly at the crumbs on the couch where Salk had been sitting, as well as the general disorder all around the Greenhouse. Ernie orders him to sleep, and the party cleans up the mess with cantrips and unseen servants.
A few of the items are slated for unquestioned destruction: an unholy mace, a wand of mantle of evil, and a bird skull that can cast a commune once per week, with a human sacrifice taking the place of the usual cost of life-force. There’s also a token of unholy aura that ought to be destroyed.
The majority of the loot is standard-issue stuff: amulets of health, rings of protection, cloaks of resistance, periapts of wisdom, various armor and weaponry with low-level enchantments, and a pile of healing potions. These will be distributed to the Ellish Daywalkers, with a few set aside for the Undermen’s adventuring party.
A few items are more interesting: a heavy mace that drains strength from those it damages; a ring of darkvision; some wands and scrolls imbued with mid-level spells.
Finally the wizards get to the top-tier stuff:
- A stone (with 8 charges remaining) that automatically heals you 5d6 if you start your turn at half health or lower.
- A suit of +5 plate mail that drains life from anyone standing next to the wearer.
- A holy ring of Delioch that allows the wearer to transfer healing done to himself, to another wounded person within 120’.
- A small green weapon gem that can change the damage type done by any weapon, to any type the wielder desires.
- A large silver coin that allows a re-reroll of any d20, once per day.
And finally there is a smooth gray stone sphere, about the size of an orange, that is identified only as “Cayyat.” The wizards have no idea what it does, though it radiates strong transmutation magic and is activated by someone holding it and concentrating upon it. Also, fortunately, it’s not inherently evil. Flicker thinks he removed it from the body of Cor Kek.
Aravis wants to test it out right then and there, though Grey Wolf convinces him to at least take it outside the Greenhouse first. Aravis sighs, but grudgingly admits that activating a powerful and mysterious item, one last in the possession of a Black Circle priest, should be done in a less risky venue. He takes it to the Greenhouse roof.
The gray stone is slickly smooth in his hand, polished to a nearly reflective sheen. Gripping it in one hand, he activates it by mere concentration, and feels it compress slightly in his grip. Before him a rift opens in space, a rectangular doorway filled with opaque gray light, pulsing slowly. The ball floats up and out of his hand, stopping to hover before the doorway at the height of his eyebrows. It slowly spins in place.
Aravis reaches out and touches the surface of the rift and finds it solid but slightly yielding, like a flexible wall of force. Kibi, whose curiosity has brought him to the roof on Aravis’s heels, casts greater arcane sight and is nigh certain it’s a portal. Aravis walks to the “back” of the gray doorway and finds it as impermeable as the front.
After five minutes, both wizards note that the portal’s pulsing is quickening, as is the jerky and random rotation of the hovering sphere. Dranko, also present, casts moment of peril to see if something bad will happen within the hour. He gets no result. Aravis reaches up to grip the sphere, but it’s as fixed as an immovable rod, and its rotations nearly break his wrist before he is obliged to let go. Willing the portal to close causes no discernable change.
“Great,” says Grey Wolf. “We’ve opened a portal, and we can’t stop it, and it’s on our roof.”
Kibi casts limited wish. “I wish I knew what this was going to do!” he exclaims. The answer comes to him immediately. In forty-eight more minutes, the portal to Cayyat will open.
“That was pretty limited,” grumbles the dwarf.
Dranko calls Ozilinsh on the crystal ball, but the ex-archmagi has never heard of Cayyat either. “The planes aren’t really my area of expertise,” he says apologetically.
“Who’s the expert among you?” asks Aravis.
“Semek,” says Ozilinsh. “Trouble is, he’s dead.”
For the next 45 minutes or so, the portal pulses ever faster, and the sphere’s rotation reaches such speeds that it would burn the skin from the fingers of anyone willing to grip it barehanded. Then, without fanfare, the ball stops spinning and the portal brightens noticeably.
Aravis reaches out and plucks the gray stone sphere from the air. With a shrug he puts it in his pocket, then rubs his chin for a second, staring at the portal. Unable to contain his curiosity, he steps through.
He is standing on the wooden deck of a large cabin, high on a hill, overlooking a lake and surrounded by high snow-capped mountains some miles off. In the middle of the deck, behind him now, is a freestanding gray rectangle. For a ten-count he gazes upon this bucolic sight, mutters “Oh, to hell with Castle Blackhope,” and steps back through. As he hoped, he emerges onto the roof of the Greenhouse.
“So, what?” says Dranko. “It doesn’t actually go anywhere, then?”
When Aravis raises a quizzical eyebrow, Dranko adds: “You stepped in and came right out the other side.”
“Time would appear to move differently in there,” says Aravis. “I was there for at least ten seconds.”
Kibi joins Aravis on his next attempt. The sky in Cayyat is blue and clear, though not quite the same shade of blue as what they’re used to, and the clouds are a soft orange, perhaps reflecting the light from the half-sized orange sun. Turning around they see that the deck is attached to a large log cabin, and through large glass windows they can see that the inside is beautifully appointed, with paintings and fine furniture and thick carpets.
A large black circle is set into the north(?) facing wall.
After giving a count of 60 this time, Aravis and Kibi step back onto the Greenhouse roof, and again the others report that they appeared to have spent no time inside.
For their third foray, the entire Company goes in except for Morningstar and Grey Wolf. This time, standing on the deck and squinting into the sunshine, they hear footsteps approaching from inside the cabin. A door opens, and standing before them is a small goblinoid creature, just under four feet high, with gnarly green skin. He wears servant garb.
“Hello,” says Aravis, as the goblin steps slowly out into the deck.
“You’re not Cor Kek,” the goblin observes. “Who are you?”
“He’s dead,” says Dranko.
“Dead? Did you kill him?”
“He attacked us,” says Kibi quickly.
“Well, kind of,” adds Dranko.
“Oh,” says the goblin, a smile spreading across his face. “Pleased to make your acquaintance! My name’s Gibbil. Welcome to Cayyat!”
“What was your arrangement with Cor Kek?” asks Aravis.
“I didn’t have an arrangement with him as such, sir. I just maintain the place.”
“It’s beautiful,” says Kibi.
“Thank you, thank you.”
“Are you happy here?” asks Ernie.
“The work’s not so bad,” says Gibbil. “Cor Kek was kind of jerk, though.”
“He sure was!” Ernie agrees.
The rest of the Company introduce themselves, after which Gibbil asks if he can get them refreshments. “And there’s a staircase off to your left,” he adds, “if you want to head down to the lake for a swim.”
“You’ll find the new management here is less jerky,” says Aravis with a smile.
“Would you like a salary?” adds Ernie.
Gibbil looks at Ernie curiously. “Now what would I do with money? I’ve got everything I need right here!”
“Is there anything you’d like?” Ernie asks.
Gibbil thinks for a second. “Yes. I’d like to be treated with respect! And not be bossed around so much.”
“Done,” says Ernie, and they both smile broadly.
“Time works differently here than it does back home,” says Dranko, looking expectantly at Gibbil.
“That’s what Cor Kek told me,” answers the goblin servant. “Far as I understood, there’s no time passing wherever you come from. Don’t pretend to understand these things. They’re well beyond me. I’m just a humble goblin.”
“How long have you been here?” asks Kibi.
“I’ve been here forever. I come with Cayyat!”
Gibbil shows them around the interior of the cabin. “Over there’s the library. We’ve got some laboratories too, and an observatory, though Cork Kek said it was worthless to him. Bedrooms are down that hall; eight of ‘em, not large, but large enough for folks your size. And of course, you have a ritual room, through that door there, for all of your mumbo jumbo thaumaturgy.”
The Company assures him they won’t be using it, recent history notwithstanding.
A thought pops into Dranko’s head. “Who owned the place before Cor Kek?”
“That was a long time ago,” says Gibbil. “It was a devil.”
“Did he treat you with respect?”
“Oh, no, he was worse than Cor Kek. I mean ‘devil’ quite literally. My understanding is, Cayyat got created by some wizard a long long time ago, and I was created too, at that very moment. I’d say Cayyat’s about four miles on a side, with the lodge here at the eastern-most edge.”
“Now this is a major rope trick,” says Aravis.
“When was the last time Cor Kek was here?” asks Dranko.
“When there’s no one here for five minutes, from my point of view, the place shuts down. I don’t even exist. I think Cor Kek said he could only use it every month or so. And you can only stay for two months at a time – our time, I mean. Mostly Cor Kek came here to read, and make stuff in the laboratory.”
“That’s what we’ll do, too,” says Aravis. “That, and take nice vacations.”
“There are some hiking trails through the foothills, and around the lake,” says Gibbil. “They’re very nice.”
Dranko nods at Ernie. “Ernie here’s an excellent cook, if you’d like us to make you anything.”
“I’m an excellent cook, thank you very much,” says Gibbil, standing up a bit straighter. “Don’t need any help, if you please.”
Dranko fishes a torch out of his pack and hands it to Gibbil. “Could you just hold this for a second?”
“Hm,” says the goblin, turning it in his hands. “Pine. Pitch. Looks about 3 years old. You should get a new one.”
Ernie throws up his hands. “Dranko, Gibbil is not going to be our torchbearer!”
“Oh, I couldn’t leave here,” says Gibbil, handing the torch back to Dranko. “I’m part of this place. It just wouldn’t be right. Plus, I’d probably just disappear if I tried. Cor Kek told me never to try it. So did the devil, for that matter.”
“Ever meet the wizard who made this place?” asks Dranko.
“Nope. The devil killed him before he had a chance to use it.”
“It’s almost like new,” Dranko exclaims. “We’re just the 3rd owners!”
“Cor Kek redecorated the lodge,” says Gibbil. “My understanding is that the Black Circle is some kind of church of knowledge. All about learning stuff.”
“And evil,” says Dranko.
“Mostly evil,” adds Ernie.
“Really?” says Gibbil. “Cor Kek was standoffish and rude, but mostly he just read, and made his trinkets.”
After a lull in the conversation, Gibbil rises on his toes. “Well, stay as long as you want, as long it’s no longer than two months. And I should mention, your grace period’s almost up. For a little while after you open Cayyat, you can come and go as you please, but soon no one will be able to come in until the whole thing resets. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going back to my nap. If you need anything, just wake me up, last bedroom on the right.”
The Company had briefly debated whether or not to set out that very day for Il-Drosh, despite their somewhat depleted spell reserves. Now the question is moot; not only will they have time to rest, but they’ll be able to spend sixty-odd days crafting magic items ahead of their mission to stop Naradawk’s arrival.
…to be continued…
)
