bluegodjanus
Explorer
Shemeska said:
That's not all, tricky fox. It also seems highly relevant to me what he did to that marraenoloth. Among other things.
Shemeska's Planescape Storyhour (Updated 29 Jan 2014)
That's not all, tricky fox. It also seems highly relevant to me what he did to that marraenoloth. Among other things.
bluegodjanus
Explorer
Shemeska said:
That's not all, tricky fox. It also seems highly relevant to me what he did to that marraenoloth. Among other things.
Shemeska
Adventurer
In lieu of a Storyhour update
Since I've been busy writing a thesis proposal this week, which is currently topping somewhere between 30 and 40 pages at the moment, I havn't been able to write an update to the storyhour yet. I'll make up for it next week if I can with either a small update midweek and the normal update on friday/saturday.
However in the meantime here's a picture of Vorkannis and Shylara (now that you've met her in the story). Drawn by a friend of mine who has, frighteningly enough, gotten better since she painted this. I don't think this will get on the nerves of anyone's grandma, but it's borderline perhaps. Nobody snitch to anyone's grandma, 'k?
Since I've been busy writing a thesis proposal this week, which is currently topping somewhere between 30 and 40 pages at the moment, I havn't been able to write an update to the storyhour yet. I'll make up for it next week if I can with either a small update midweek and the normal update on friday/saturday.
However in the meantime here's a picture of Vorkannis and Shylara (now that you've met her in the story). Drawn by a friend of mine who has, frighteningly enough, gotten better since she painted this. I don't think this will get on the nerves of anyone's grandma, but it's borderline perhaps. Nobody snitch to anyone's grandma, 'k?
![:]](http://www.enworld.org/forum/images/smilies/devious.png "Devious :]")
Frist off; Great stroy Shemeska and Co. 
I have say that Tristol is my Fav. Char. (only for the reason he is the only other person I herd of using/used a Fox like Aasmar besides me. ) I feel a bit sorry for the Succubus; But I've alway love the good evil guy consept... (unless they are drow rangers)
Now to spec.
I think the Smiling Feind is A'kin... I have no bases for this just a gut feeling it's not the Ebon...
yeah I know I'm most likely way off.
I have say that Tristol is my Fav. Char. (only for the reason he is the only other person I herd of using/used a Fox like Aasmar besides me.
) I feel a bit sorry for the Succubus; But I've alway love the good evil guy consept... (unless they are drow rangers) Now to spec.
I think the Smiling Feind is A'kin... I have no bases for this just a gut feeling it's not the Ebon...
yeah I know I'm most likely way off.![Joker[ZW]](/data/avatars/m/9/9151.jpg?1565264842){kind=avatar}
Joker[ZW]
First Post
Nah, the smiling fiend is a leonal! (so he isn't really a fiend)
He's not fallen either, he's just messing with his greatest enemies acting as one of them and making sure they keep as far away from his home plane as possible. That would mean he had to find a reason to fool his fiendish "allies" who think he is a fiend, so that they do not get curious for why he wants our heros to get rid of the fiends in Elysium!
I mean, those leonals really are sneaky little buggers, just look at Simba! Outside all sweet and friendly, but you can see in his eyes what a cold and dizzing brain is working in this fluffy head.
Alas, he doesn't know one thing: one of his closest allies and of the few people who know his real identity, a Guardinal with the name Pumbaa, really is a shapechanged Slaad spy!
Wheels within wheels.
He's not fallen either, he's just messing with his greatest enemies acting as one of them and making sure they keep as far away from his home plane as possible. That would mean he had to find a reason to fool his fiendish "allies" who think he is a fiend, so that they do not get curious for why he wants our heros to get rid of the fiends in Elysium!
I mean, those leonals really are sneaky little buggers, just look at Simba! Outside all sweet and friendly, but you can see in his eyes what a cold and dizzing brain is working in this fluffy head.
Alas, he doesn't know one thing: one of his closest allies and of the few people who know his real identity, a Guardinal with the name Pumbaa, really is a shapechanged Slaad spy!
Wheels within wheels.
Shemeska
Adventurer
Joker[ZW] said:
Sorry to burst your bubble, but he's not a leonal at least. I answer on his/her/its identity slightly in this next update. Much to some of my player's surprise I think since he/she/it is still around in the current campaign and still dealing with them, oddly enough.
Shemeska
Adventurer
Nisha and Clueless pressed through the crowd of mercenaries and merchants as they headed towards the Pluton district of Center. The bladesinger glanced over to the tiefling, “Well since she's about to head off to another camp tomorrow or so I figure we should start looking right now. For the moment she's likely near the Oinos side - outside the walls, or wandering the Pluton side, selling larvae. We'll try Pluton first since there’s no quarantine on the way back."
Nisha chuckled, “Thank you... disease is bad.”
"That too... I'm not in the mood to rescue the cleric, turn around and go 'oh and by the way....'"
As the two of them approached the entrance to the Pluton side of the city after a few more blocks of walking they found the streets less crowded, though it seemed that there were a larger number of spellcasters and highups wandering the streets. Rather than iron, the buildings all seemed to have been cut from one huge block of marble.
Strolling through the black marble gateway that marked the boundary of the Pluton sector of Center they passed a group of possibly drunk half-orc and tiefling mercenaries. They red-faced, laughing and staggering men were also pulling along a shabbily dressed woman along with them and one of them audibly boasted about the price that “That withered old hag charged us for a nights worth of free whoring!”
Clueless stopped in midstep and turned to approach the gang of sellswords, "Hold! Which hag was this?"
The men stopped and two of them drew swords before their leader held his hand up to stop them.
Clueless smirked a little, falling into the mood of things, "I already got one of those - she needs a birthday present."
The mercenary leader chuckled, “Sorry berk, but we got the last fairer sex from her. But if you're into anything else, she's got a cripple left. Down the street and past the potion peddler.”
Clueless nodded while Nisha stared daggers into his back before the merc captain laughed at them both, goosed his new property and walked off down the street with his gang in tow. As a few of the drunkards moved off they tossed a couple insults after them as the group moved away to enjoy their purchase.
“Which one of you two’s the woman?”
“Hope you didn’t pay much for him sweety!”
“He ‘aint interested in you honey, not by the looks of him. Prissy elf.”
Clueless muttered, “Thanks.” As the band moved off and then he turned to face Nisha who looked none too happy.
“You couldn’t come up with a better story than you’d bought me and wanted to get me a ‘present’? Oh please. I’d love for anyone to try. They’d be missing more than their purse by the end of it.” Nisha said pointedly, “I grew up in the Hive, believe me that could have been a career option. Same if you’d grown up there too… prissy elf boy.”
Nisha winked at the last comment, obviously enjoying passing along one of the drunkards insults to Clueless who didn’t have a drop of actual elven blood in him at all. Most simply had never seen one of his kind.
“Anyways, a bit of words aside, let’s go and we’ll yammer more about that later? Come on.”
“Sorry about that, I was looking for some way to find exactly where they’d seen that hag. Truly I’m sorry Nisha…” Clueless said as he walked alongside the tiefling who had dropped any irritation and was then simply verbally jabbing her companion for the sake of jabbing.
“Let's scoot before someone buys him up. That cripple sounds like our target.” The bladesinger said as he and Nisha quickly walked to the end of the street. There they could see a cluster of fiends and a single tall and crooked night hag standing in front of a number of larvae, and a bound, hobbling elf.
One of the five imps hanging around the hag turned around and took notice of the pair as they approached, “In the market for a slave sir? Good eating, good killing, and claims to be trained in healing. Buy ‘em and fight off the diseases of Oinos for you and your fellow swordsman.”
Clueless looked at the crippled elf dispassionately, "Oddly enough - yes I am in the market."
Nisha noted that the elf’s leg was heavily bandaged and soaked through with blood. As well, the man was dressed in tattered clerical vestments and seemed to favor his other leg heavily. In truth it seemed like the man they had come to find.
All five imps turned around then along with a robed Amnizu and the Night Hag who had a Wastrel familiar perched on her shoulder, its reddish eyes glowing dimly.
The Hag smiled a grin of broken, crooked and yellowed teeth at her two potential customers, “Now just what can Marian do for you today child?”
Clueless pointed down at the elf, "That one... he's injured... but elves live long, if they're in the right spot. What's your asking price for him?"
The elf was shoved by one of the imps and he slowly began to turn around, a wretched and despondent look on his face while the hag continued to grace the world with her own grimy yellow and mottled brown grin.
As the elf saw Clueless, at first he didn't make much of a response, then he wrinkled his face and just seemed to be confused or thinking heavily. Clueless noticed and muttered to himself and the elf in elven, “Stillness” an old codeword they had used in the past that they had used to mean that one of them had a plan and to run with it.
The Hag looked over both Clueless and then Nisha. “You can use him, so twenty thousand.”
Both of them winced at the highball cost but gathered that she was simply tossing out an obscene sum to see if he would bite. Nisha continued to scoff at the cost and looked at the hag while she pointed down at the elf’s bundled leg, “What’s wrong with his leg? And can I at least take a look at it?”
Clueless nodded to the tiefling, "... see if it can be fixed..."
Marian nodded and grumbled, “Go ahead. It festered, but it'll heal, he can walk.”
Nisha wandered over and looked at the cleric’s bad leg. Looking under the bandages she got a wide-eyed look and almost touched the gaping wound in his ankle. Her expression of shock wasn’t put on for dramatic purpose.
“Bad is hardly a word for it.” Nisha said as she looked to Clueless and then to the hag. “It’ll end up costing us a cleric to heal it properly.”
Marian chuckled and as she grinned again so did all the imps, almost on cue. The Amnizu rolled his eyes.
Clueless nodded to Nisha then looked at the hag with a raised eyebrow, "I've got the feeling there’s a reason he's the last of your merchandise. Would you like to make a different offer, ma'am?"
“10,000 then dear…” The hag said.
Clueless nodded, "That's doable."
At the bladesinger’s acceptance of the price, Marian’s smile actually became legit. “How about I throw in a larvae too, tell your friends who you bought him from?”
"Um, sure... I'm sure they'll ask." Clueless said, taken back and befuddled by the offer somewhat.
Marian smiled again and gestured to the gaggle of imps, “Or an Imp. I'll give you one of them if that'd be better for you.”
As the hag made mention of the imps they all turned to her, eyes buggy. The Amnizu chuckled at their expense but said nothing.
"I think they would miss your presence..." Clueless said with a chuckle.
“Yeah, sure they would...” said the Amnizu with another roll of its eyes which garnered it Ravelsdotter’s familiar shooting it ‘the look’.
Clueless inwardly could only think that the rest of his party would end up freaking if he walked back with either of those two freebies. Nisha imagined chasing Toras around the inn with a wriggling larva.
As Clueless shook his head in the negative towards the imps the hag held out a bag to take her payment. After she counted the coins with a cantrip she then handed the chain attached to the elf to Nisha.
“And yer larva… take ‘em out whenever ye want. ‘Ol Marian only sells the best of them.” The hag said as she took out a small gem, spokes a command word and one of the larvae disappeared from the group in front of her while the gem began to glow.
"Thank you..." Clueless said as he took the gem and smiled. "Well wishes to your business..."
She handed the gem to the bladesinger, smiled a gap toothed smile and walked off down the street, chatting with the Amnizu as the imps ushered the larvae to follow.
“…Damn but this has been a chase after you, you know?” Clueless said in elven as he knelt down to examine his companion’s leg while Nisha unlocked the shackles around his wrists and ankles.
The cleric looked up at them both and whispered, “I know you, one of you, but I can't remember your name, or even my own.”
Clueless reached out to brush the elf’s hair back gently, "That's ok. I don't know my name either... I've still got the thing in my leg that they took from yours."
The elf shuddered at the mention of the gem from his leg, “They put something in my leg, made me do things, like I was a spectator in my own head.”
Clueless nodded back, "Trust me, I know the feeling."
Looking down at the elf’s leg there was a gaping, bleeding hole where the gem had been and it was clearly infected. The gem appeared to have been ripped out, but removed by surgery. Nisha wrinkled her nose at the hole "And we're gonna have to get you someplace to tend to this thing."
"I've got *lots* of questions for you, but I also have an idea where you're supposed to be. Will you trust me to get you there?" The half-fey said to his former adventuring partner.
The cleric looked up, on the verge of tears, “Yes. Please just get me away from this place though, it’s been eating away at my soul since I came here…”
Clueless nodded and supported him as they began to move again. He looked over to Nisha and motioned to the elf, "Hey Nisha, meet well - one of the other guys who used to have a rock in their ankle."
Nisha looked at them both, “It does that, and nice to meet you. Can we leave?” She pranced back and forth nervously on her hooves. “No teleports left, no planeshifts either. I'd like to leave the lower planes though.”
"Rightio. Well..." Clueless paused to think for a moment, "I doubt we want to ask for portals out of here."
“Umm... no.” The tiefling quipped as they passed a group of cambions.
"Let's see what my next trick of the day is..." The bladesinger muttered as he tapped the bubble of golden liquid in the choker at his neck. He recalled the basic idea of a Planeshift and brought to mind the vague image of the outlands and the city of Tradegate.
Nisha winced as Clueless took her hand and they all abruptly vanished from the streets. Clueless felt a burning in his veins as he used the liquid magic, whatever it was, and it staggered him for a moment as they blinked back into existence. It had never done that before, but neither had he attempted to use the liquid to extend himself so far beyond his own normal ability to cast spells.
As the feeling left his head he released the button with a cough and a wince before he was doubled over by a spasm of pain that felt like his blood had been ignited. “Oh that f*ing hurt…ow.”
“Wow, you got us back!” Nisha said almost incredulously as the cleric knelt down on his knees, kissing the ground and praying.
“Don’t sound too surprised there Nisha…” Clueless said, as the pain receded, though not entirely.
The air was cold and they had reappeared on a flat, nearly featureless plane. The sky was hazy and with no sun, only a soft and washed out glow from no particular source, while off in the distance the spire rose up into the clouds.
Nisha looked at Clueless, “Tradegate? Faunal? Fortitude?”
"I was aiming for Tradegate..." Clueless answered back.
“Well planeshift isn't aimed, that'd be a gate.”
The bladesinger laughed sharply, "I think a gate would have taken my head off… Do you have any teleports left?"
Nisha squirmed a bit before answering, “Yeah. Kinda. You?”
Clueless raised an eyebrow at her, "...Not really. I kind of pushed my luck already. On the other hand - I'll buy ya a new set of scrolls..."
The tiefling shrugged as she took out a scroll case made of some sort of hide, inscribed with a holy symbol of Talona. She whistled innocently as she took it out before mentioning, “Drunken spellcasters and tight crowds are my friend.”
An eyebrow went up on Clueless’s face in reply, "Fun fun fun."
Nisha popped it open and began jury-rigging the spell. As it went off after only a few attempts to trigger it they found themselves standing on the edge of the gatetown of Faunel.
“Inn & healer? Or can you cast that yourself now that we got the chains off you? They had stuff written on them that looked like curses to prevent you from casting…” Nisha asked the elf.
He nodded back slowly, “Food and water please.”
Clueless looked to Nisha, "He may not even be *aware* of the ability to do that. But,” he said, then looking over and nodding, "Food and water it is. I could use breakfast myself."
A half hour later, the three of them sat in a private room in an inn in the gatetown, Nisha having paid for it with the jink of the same drunken caster whose scroll had gotten them to the town in the first place. Clueless had cleaned the elf’s wounded leg out and changed the dressings on it while Nisha had paid for food and extra blankets to be brought up to the room.
The elf had already begun to recite a litany of prayers, and slowly but surely some color returned to his flesh and the hole in his ankle began to seal. While it would likely leave a permanent scar it would heal and he would walk again without difficulty in all likelihood. By the end of his prayers there was no lingering trace of the gem or anything else in the wound aside from the livid scar across his ankle where it had once been embedded down to the bone.
Nearly an hour later he looked up from his devotions and whispered something, “They sent me to the mazes…”
Tristol looked at the rest of his fellows as they stood around him just outside Tradegate where they had arrived by way of its portal from Sigil. It had been several hours since they had met with the Cheshire Fiend in the depths of Sigil’s Great Below, and they were collectively worried about what they would find when they investigated the second layer of the plane of ultimate good.
“Everyone ready?” The aasimar mage said as he twitched his tail steadily behind himself.
There was a smattering of ‘yes’ answers from the group before Fyrehowl asked a question to them all.
“So we’re agreed once we get there to travel to Rubicon and find out if they have any knowledge of this all, or anything else they can tell us before we go running in? I think it best to let them at least know what we know, and what the …fiend… told us before we get ourselves into trouble. After all, if we die in the process without telling them what’s going on then it’s all for naught.”
“I can’t find a problem with that.” Florian said with a nod.
“Same here, it’s a reasonable idea and they can at least tell us a bit about the layer we’ll be on once we arrive there.” Toras replied.
Skalliska nodded and asked another question, “Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but for a plane of pure good I’ve heard some rather strange things about that second layer, Belarian.”
Fyrehowl looked slightly amiss, but Tristol picked up the question. “How so, I’m not super familiar with it myself. Sure I’m a few generations descended from someone on the plane, but I’ve never actually been there or read much about it.”
The kobold flashed a grin before she started lecturing. “Like I said, for a plane of pure good the second layer is pretty nasty and has the tendency to belch out evil creatures, usually corrupted animals and such but every so often a fiend will blunder out of the swamp.”
Skalliska glanced to the lupinal who again could only shrug.
“Of course they can’t leave the plane or get off the layer because it’s sealed off from the rest of the planes and even the rest of Elysium. How, nobody really knows, and the Guardinals won’t talk about it, or seem to not know the dark of it themselves. But the only way in or out of the plane is by the river Oceanus.”
Toras interjected, “And anything evil that tries to get out that way gets roasted by the river pretty much.”
“Exactly, it’s a river of holy water more or less. Anything there on Belarian that’s evil is trapped there. Just don’t ask me how they could have gotten in in the first place, or why they’d even be there. It’s a contradiction for the place to be like that really, and it’s confusing to say the least.”
Again, Fyrehowl shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you honestly. I’ve never actually been to that layer in all my years, only the other three layers. Very few people actually travel to Belarian. But,” she said, “We will soon and we’ll answer whatever questions you have I figure.”
And with that, Tristol completed his spell and they all felt an immediate tug on their beings as the world dissolved around them in a flash of brilliant light. The transition between planes felt much more different than their previous travels to Acheron, the ethereal, or even the Outlands. After a brief burst of cold as their essence tunneled through the Astral they felt a warmth and sense of joy as the world once again took form around them when they reappeared on a mountainside in Elysium’s second layer of Eronia.
Fyrehowl smiled, closed her eyes and slowly breathed as she once again took in the feel of the plane of her origin. As she basked in the essence of the plane the others could only stare and wonder at the plane surrounding them all. Brilliant sunlight shimmered down from a perfect blue sky that rained down sunlight upon a land of tall, majestic mountains and sheltered verdant valleys of pure, untouched natural beauty. And above it all was the sense of unquestioning belonging extending from the very air itself they breathed.
“Don’t stare and wonder too long, it’ll make it harder to leave when we have to eventually.” The lupinal said to her friends as they shook their heads and followed her down the mountainside towards one of the forested vales below. At the edge of the vale ran the shimmering, sun-touched ribbon of blue that marked the edge of the great river Oceanus.
“What was that?” Tristol asked he blinked. A single tear ran down his face as he turned away from the sky above.
“Don’t become too attached or you won’t be able to leave. It’s the mirror of Hades. That plane takes away your free will, your feelings, your beliefs and your spirit and leaves you apathetic, drained and unable to leave by your own actions. Elysium though makes you unwilling to leave. Having seen the face of perfection, how could you abide to separate yourself from it? We have something to do though, come.”
Together and resolute they moved steadily to the river on the horizon that would eventually bring them to Belarian and the fortress of Rubicon. With the sun shining down warmly and the wind at their backs they proceeded steadfast and smiling, the plane itself rewarding the will and intent to do good.
The Keeper of the Tower was smiling as he gazed down at a series of reports that lay scattered across his desk in an organized chaos of paper, petitioners and sensory stones. Helekanalaith reached up and adjusted the gold rimmed spectacles perched on his snout as habit, though in truth neither he nor any other of his kind needed them, it simply happened to be an affectation to imply greater wisdom or knowledge.
“And I trust that you’ve sent the Elysian bastards a fine little present of well meaning deceit?” The Keeper never looked up at his current guest as he spoke.
“Everyone involved with me gets what they want, more or less, I aim to please all. Anyone involved in this who hasn’t been dealing with me… well… let’s just say they’ll have what’s been coming to them. No?”
Helekanalaith glanced up into the shimmering blue grin that hovered in the air in front of his desk. This time the smiling icon had affected a pair of spectacles like his own and sprouted fangs. But still, the Cheshire Fiend seemed entirely too chipper at times.
“Everything will happen as The Ebon has planned down to the last drop of blood spilt on planes as far removed as Celestia and the Abyss. A pity I won’t be directly involved in it before it’s all reached a climax. But when is our kind ever directly involved? Let the Mezzoloths fight while we push paper and pull strings. After all, it’s how we’ve always done things.” The Keeper said as he smiled back at his representative who flashed cobalt fangs in reply.
“But we do get to enjoy the benefits of being on a winning side, something which not everyone in this conflict will be a part of. Assuming of course that all goes as planned.”
“It had better. I’ve already had to give up a toy of mine in this all and if things don’t work according to our plans then I’m second in line to face the consequences when the dust settles and the blood dries. The Ebon would of course be directly held accountable, not that I see any flaw in his plans in the slightest.” Helekanalaith said, hastily adding the final conditional to his last statement as he felt an unsettling chill pass over him. The same occurred whenever he had spoken his co-conspirator’s name aloud in anything but high esteem.
“In any event my lord, do you have any further instructions for me to carryout before I return to my duties? I have to go send two more to Elysium to meet up with their fellows. They’ll be needed for what we’ve sent them to do.” The Cheshire Fiend said as it looked at the Keeper.
Helekanalaith thought for a moment before replying. “Yes. Continue to ensure that the Marauder has little use of her own toy for the moment. Being as how I’m to be denied the use of my own to further The Ebon’s designs I feel it only equitable that she and I at least be equal partners in this all. I believe that you can accomplish that, and again, make sure that they carry out what needs to be done in Elysium. Mydianchlarus’s followers must be butchered to the last and make certain that the rogue lupinal dies quickly. I have no wish for him to be questioned, not that he knows much more than he’s been told or deludes himself into believing.”
The Cheshire Fiend nodded back, “She won’t have access to him for several more days at the very least; more if I can help it. As for the rest of it, trust in me my lord. It’s not an entirely alien concept to us all, and you know me better than most I should think.”
The Keeper sighed and removed his glasses before looking pointedly at his servant, “I know the meaning of trust among our kind more so than most. I know just what it means for us to express it and the logical ends to which it proceeds. I have learned through that that pragmatism is the best I should aim for in all cases, and I am ultimately pragmatic in all things including this current endeavor. As for trusting you? You’ve never failed me in anything where blame could be placed upon you, but do keep in mind that I have more offspring than just yourself…”
The cleric’s voice was soft and shaken as he repeated himself and looked up at Clueless, “They sent me to the mazes…”
Clueless nodded to his friend, “They sent me to one too. How’d you get out?”
“They sent one of the Mercykillers after me, find out what I saw… They sent me to one of The Lady’s mazes…” He was shaking at the memory and starting to weep.
Clueless walked over and wrapped an arm around his shoulder to console him. The man seemed seconds away from a panic attack as he seemed to be recalling his memories of the events he had been a silent witness to now as the lingering touch of the Waste had lost its grip on his mind and spirit.
“Do you know where they sent me?” The cleric asked softly.
“The Lady’s mazes, that’s all you’ve said.”
“No… which one?” He clarified.
Clueless shook his head, “No, where did they send you?”
He took a deep breath and replied with a single word, “Terrance.”
Clueless inhaled deeply as well. Terrance had been the Factol of the Athar. “...F*ck.”
The elf continued with a harrowed voice, “Me, I had my faith tested for 8 days, and I can't even remember what it was that I spoke to him about in there. It was only he and I… and the maze. It was like She'd taken a part of Sigil and spun it off into somewhere else, but changed it, altered it to how it once was. And how it never was.”
“In there,” He continued, “In the maze with Terrance, was the Shattered Temple, only it wasn't shattered. It was there, all of it, in the height of its glory. Thrown in Terrance’s face, telling him he was wrong. But it was also telling him he was right in a way. Every symbol of Aoskar in that temple was broken, torn asunder, pierced through with blades. It was a monument to every power in the multiverse and an epithet for one at the same time. She's teaching him a lesson, but I can't remember what it was. They took my memories from me…”
Clueless nodded as he listened, occasionally brushing his hair back gently and nodded. Nisha placed some food and drink before them both and let the exchange between old comrades continue without her interference otherwise. The man had been through an experience she didn’t envy, and Clueless had shared in a similar one that she could not, nor would she care to, claim.
"He might learn it eventually. There's a man that may help your memories if you wish..." Clueless said, bringing to mind the Githzerai with the Bleakers who had helped him originally.
“I’m not certain I wish to remember. Whatever happened in there I do know that Terrance refused to answer some of the questions I heard myself asking him repeatedly. He said that he would rot in there for eternity before he told me those answers. He was frightened I think of whatever it was that I asked him, and even more afraid of answering. There was terror in his eyes…”
Nisha chuckled, “Thank you... disease is bad.”
"That too... I'm not in the mood to rescue the cleric, turn around and go 'oh and by the way....'"
As the two of them approached the entrance to the Pluton side of the city after a few more blocks of walking they found the streets less crowded, though it seemed that there were a larger number of spellcasters and highups wandering the streets. Rather than iron, the buildings all seemed to have been cut from one huge block of marble.
Strolling through the black marble gateway that marked the boundary of the Pluton sector of Center they passed a group of possibly drunk half-orc and tiefling mercenaries. They red-faced, laughing and staggering men were also pulling along a shabbily dressed woman along with them and one of them audibly boasted about the price that “That withered old hag charged us for a nights worth of free whoring!”
Clueless stopped in midstep and turned to approach the gang of sellswords, "Hold! Which hag was this?"
The men stopped and two of them drew swords before their leader held his hand up to stop them.
Clueless smirked a little, falling into the mood of things, "I already got one of those - she needs a birthday present."
The mercenary leader chuckled, “Sorry berk, but we got the last fairer sex from her. But if you're into anything else, she's got a cripple left. Down the street and past the potion peddler.”
Clueless nodded while Nisha stared daggers into his back before the merc captain laughed at them both, goosed his new property and walked off down the street with his gang in tow. As a few of the drunkards moved off they tossed a couple insults after them as the group moved away to enjoy their purchase.
“Which one of you two’s the woman?”
“Hope you didn’t pay much for him sweety!”
“He ‘aint interested in you honey, not by the looks of him. Prissy elf.”
Clueless muttered, “Thanks.” As the band moved off and then he turned to face Nisha who looked none too happy.
“You couldn’t come up with a better story than you’d bought me and wanted to get me a ‘present’? Oh please. I’d love for anyone to try. They’d be missing more than their purse by the end of it.” Nisha said pointedly, “I grew up in the Hive, believe me that could have been a career option. Same if you’d grown up there too… prissy elf boy.”
Nisha winked at the last comment, obviously enjoying passing along one of the drunkards insults to Clueless who didn’t have a drop of actual elven blood in him at all. Most simply had never seen one of his kind.
“Anyways, a bit of words aside, let’s go and we’ll yammer more about that later? Come on.”
“Sorry about that, I was looking for some way to find exactly where they’d seen that hag. Truly I’m sorry Nisha…” Clueless said as he walked alongside the tiefling who had dropped any irritation and was then simply verbally jabbing her companion for the sake of jabbing.
“Let's scoot before someone buys him up. That cripple sounds like our target.” The bladesinger said as he and Nisha quickly walked to the end of the street. There they could see a cluster of fiends and a single tall and crooked night hag standing in front of a number of larvae, and a bound, hobbling elf.
One of the five imps hanging around the hag turned around and took notice of the pair as they approached, “In the market for a slave sir? Good eating, good killing, and claims to be trained in healing. Buy ‘em and fight off the diseases of Oinos for you and your fellow swordsman.”
Clueless looked at the crippled elf dispassionately, "Oddly enough - yes I am in the market."
Nisha noted that the elf’s leg was heavily bandaged and soaked through with blood. As well, the man was dressed in tattered clerical vestments and seemed to favor his other leg heavily. In truth it seemed like the man they had come to find.
All five imps turned around then along with a robed Amnizu and the Night Hag who had a Wastrel familiar perched on her shoulder, its reddish eyes glowing dimly.
The Hag smiled a grin of broken, crooked and yellowed teeth at her two potential customers, “Now just what can Marian do for you today child?”
Clueless pointed down at the elf, "That one... he's injured... but elves live long, if they're in the right spot. What's your asking price for him?"
The elf was shoved by one of the imps and he slowly began to turn around, a wretched and despondent look on his face while the hag continued to grace the world with her own grimy yellow and mottled brown grin.
As the elf saw Clueless, at first he didn't make much of a response, then he wrinkled his face and just seemed to be confused or thinking heavily. Clueless noticed and muttered to himself and the elf in elven, “Stillness” an old codeword they had used in the past that they had used to mean that one of them had a plan and to run with it.
The Hag looked over both Clueless and then Nisha. “You can use him, so twenty thousand.”
Both of them winced at the highball cost but gathered that she was simply tossing out an obscene sum to see if he would bite. Nisha continued to scoff at the cost and looked at the hag while she pointed down at the elf’s bundled leg, “What’s wrong with his leg? And can I at least take a look at it?”
Clueless nodded to the tiefling, "... see if it can be fixed..."
Marian nodded and grumbled, “Go ahead. It festered, but it'll heal, he can walk.”
Nisha wandered over and looked at the cleric’s bad leg. Looking under the bandages she got a wide-eyed look and almost touched the gaping wound in his ankle. Her expression of shock wasn’t put on for dramatic purpose.
“Bad is hardly a word for it.” Nisha said as she looked to Clueless and then to the hag. “It’ll end up costing us a cleric to heal it properly.”
Marian chuckled and as she grinned again so did all the imps, almost on cue. The Amnizu rolled his eyes.
Clueless nodded to Nisha then looked at the hag with a raised eyebrow, "I've got the feeling there’s a reason he's the last of your merchandise. Would you like to make a different offer, ma'am?"
“10,000 then dear…” The hag said.
Clueless nodded, "That's doable."
At the bladesinger’s acceptance of the price, Marian’s smile actually became legit. “How about I throw in a larvae too, tell your friends who you bought him from?”
"Um, sure... I'm sure they'll ask." Clueless said, taken back and befuddled by the offer somewhat.
Marian smiled again and gestured to the gaggle of imps, “Or an Imp. I'll give you one of them if that'd be better for you.”
As the hag made mention of the imps they all turned to her, eyes buggy. The Amnizu chuckled at their expense but said nothing.
"I think they would miss your presence..." Clueless said with a chuckle.
“Yeah, sure they would...” said the Amnizu with another roll of its eyes which garnered it Ravelsdotter’s familiar shooting it ‘the look’.
Clueless inwardly could only think that the rest of his party would end up freaking if he walked back with either of those two freebies. Nisha imagined chasing Toras around the inn with a wriggling larva.
As Clueless shook his head in the negative towards the imps the hag held out a bag to take her payment. After she counted the coins with a cantrip she then handed the chain attached to the elf to Nisha.
“And yer larva… take ‘em out whenever ye want. ‘Ol Marian only sells the best of them.” The hag said as she took out a small gem, spokes a command word and one of the larvae disappeared from the group in front of her while the gem began to glow.
"Thank you..." Clueless said as he took the gem and smiled. "Well wishes to your business..."
She handed the gem to the bladesinger, smiled a gap toothed smile and walked off down the street, chatting with the Amnizu as the imps ushered the larvae to follow.
“…Damn but this has been a chase after you, you know?” Clueless said in elven as he knelt down to examine his companion’s leg while Nisha unlocked the shackles around his wrists and ankles.
The cleric looked up at them both and whispered, “I know you, one of you, but I can't remember your name, or even my own.”
Clueless reached out to brush the elf’s hair back gently, "That's ok. I don't know my name either... I've still got the thing in my leg that they took from yours."
The elf shuddered at the mention of the gem from his leg, “They put something in my leg, made me do things, like I was a spectator in my own head.”
Clueless nodded back, "Trust me, I know the feeling."
Looking down at the elf’s leg there was a gaping, bleeding hole where the gem had been and it was clearly infected. The gem appeared to have been ripped out, but removed by surgery. Nisha wrinkled her nose at the hole "And we're gonna have to get you someplace to tend to this thing."
"I've got *lots* of questions for you, but I also have an idea where you're supposed to be. Will you trust me to get you there?" The half-fey said to his former adventuring partner.
The cleric looked up, on the verge of tears, “Yes. Please just get me away from this place though, it’s been eating away at my soul since I came here…”
Clueless nodded and supported him as they began to move again. He looked over to Nisha and motioned to the elf, "Hey Nisha, meet well - one of the other guys who used to have a rock in their ankle."
Nisha looked at them both, “It does that, and nice to meet you. Can we leave?” She pranced back and forth nervously on her hooves. “No teleports left, no planeshifts either. I'd like to leave the lower planes though.”
"Rightio. Well..." Clueless paused to think for a moment, "I doubt we want to ask for portals out of here."
“Umm... no.” The tiefling quipped as they passed a group of cambions.
"Let's see what my next trick of the day is..." The bladesinger muttered as he tapped the bubble of golden liquid in the choker at his neck. He recalled the basic idea of a Planeshift and brought to mind the vague image of the outlands and the city of Tradegate.
Nisha winced as Clueless took her hand and they all abruptly vanished from the streets. Clueless felt a burning in his veins as he used the liquid magic, whatever it was, and it staggered him for a moment as they blinked back into existence. It had never done that before, but neither had he attempted to use the liquid to extend himself so far beyond his own normal ability to cast spells.
As the feeling left his head he released the button with a cough and a wince before he was doubled over by a spasm of pain that felt like his blood had been ignited. “Oh that f*ing hurt…ow.”
“Wow, you got us back!” Nisha said almost incredulously as the cleric knelt down on his knees, kissing the ground and praying.
“Don’t sound too surprised there Nisha…” Clueless said, as the pain receded, though not entirely.
The air was cold and they had reappeared on a flat, nearly featureless plane. The sky was hazy and with no sun, only a soft and washed out glow from no particular source, while off in the distance the spire rose up into the clouds.
Nisha looked at Clueless, “Tradegate? Faunal? Fortitude?”
"I was aiming for Tradegate..." Clueless answered back.
“Well planeshift isn't aimed, that'd be a gate.”
The bladesinger laughed sharply, "I think a gate would have taken my head off… Do you have any teleports left?"
Nisha squirmed a bit before answering, “Yeah. Kinda. You?”
Clueless raised an eyebrow at her, "...Not really. I kind of pushed my luck already. On the other hand - I'll buy ya a new set of scrolls..."
The tiefling shrugged as she took out a scroll case made of some sort of hide, inscribed with a holy symbol of Talona. She whistled innocently as she took it out before mentioning, “Drunken spellcasters and tight crowds are my friend.”
An eyebrow went up on Clueless’s face in reply, "Fun fun fun."
Nisha popped it open and began jury-rigging the spell. As it went off after only a few attempts to trigger it they found themselves standing on the edge of the gatetown of Faunel.
“Inn & healer? Or can you cast that yourself now that we got the chains off you? They had stuff written on them that looked like curses to prevent you from casting…” Nisha asked the elf.
He nodded back slowly, “Food and water please.”
Clueless looked to Nisha, "He may not even be *aware* of the ability to do that. But,” he said, then looking over and nodding, "Food and water it is. I could use breakfast myself."
A half hour later, the three of them sat in a private room in an inn in the gatetown, Nisha having paid for it with the jink of the same drunken caster whose scroll had gotten them to the town in the first place. Clueless had cleaned the elf’s wounded leg out and changed the dressings on it while Nisha had paid for food and extra blankets to be brought up to the room.
The elf had already begun to recite a litany of prayers, and slowly but surely some color returned to his flesh and the hole in his ankle began to seal. While it would likely leave a permanent scar it would heal and he would walk again without difficulty in all likelihood. By the end of his prayers there was no lingering trace of the gem or anything else in the wound aside from the livid scar across his ankle where it had once been embedded down to the bone.
Nearly an hour later he looked up from his devotions and whispered something, “They sent me to the mazes…”
****
Tristol looked at the rest of his fellows as they stood around him just outside Tradegate where they had arrived by way of its portal from Sigil. It had been several hours since they had met with the Cheshire Fiend in the depths of Sigil’s Great Below, and they were collectively worried about what they would find when they investigated the second layer of the plane of ultimate good.
“Everyone ready?” The aasimar mage said as he twitched his tail steadily behind himself.
There was a smattering of ‘yes’ answers from the group before Fyrehowl asked a question to them all.
“So we’re agreed once we get there to travel to Rubicon and find out if they have any knowledge of this all, or anything else they can tell us before we go running in? I think it best to let them at least know what we know, and what the …fiend… told us before we get ourselves into trouble. After all, if we die in the process without telling them what’s going on then it’s all for naught.”
“I can’t find a problem with that.” Florian said with a nod.
“Same here, it’s a reasonable idea and they can at least tell us a bit about the layer we’ll be on once we arrive there.” Toras replied.
Skalliska nodded and asked another question, “Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but for a plane of pure good I’ve heard some rather strange things about that second layer, Belarian.”
Fyrehowl looked slightly amiss, but Tristol picked up the question. “How so, I’m not super familiar with it myself. Sure I’m a few generations descended from someone on the plane, but I’ve never actually been there or read much about it.”
The kobold flashed a grin before she started lecturing. “Like I said, for a plane of pure good the second layer is pretty nasty and has the tendency to belch out evil creatures, usually corrupted animals and such but every so often a fiend will blunder out of the swamp.”
Skalliska glanced to the lupinal who again could only shrug.
“Of course they can’t leave the plane or get off the layer because it’s sealed off from the rest of the planes and even the rest of Elysium. How, nobody really knows, and the Guardinals won’t talk about it, or seem to not know the dark of it themselves. But the only way in or out of the plane is by the river Oceanus.”
Toras interjected, “And anything evil that tries to get out that way gets roasted by the river pretty much.”
“Exactly, it’s a river of holy water more or less. Anything there on Belarian that’s evil is trapped there. Just don’t ask me how they could have gotten in in the first place, or why they’d even be there. It’s a contradiction for the place to be like that really, and it’s confusing to say the least.”
Again, Fyrehowl shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you honestly. I’ve never actually been to that layer in all my years, only the other three layers. Very few people actually travel to Belarian. But,” she said, “We will soon and we’ll answer whatever questions you have I figure.”
And with that, Tristol completed his spell and they all felt an immediate tug on their beings as the world dissolved around them in a flash of brilliant light. The transition between planes felt much more different than their previous travels to Acheron, the ethereal, or even the Outlands. After a brief burst of cold as their essence tunneled through the Astral they felt a warmth and sense of joy as the world once again took form around them when they reappeared on a mountainside in Elysium’s second layer of Eronia.
Fyrehowl smiled, closed her eyes and slowly breathed as she once again took in the feel of the plane of her origin. As she basked in the essence of the plane the others could only stare and wonder at the plane surrounding them all. Brilliant sunlight shimmered down from a perfect blue sky that rained down sunlight upon a land of tall, majestic mountains and sheltered verdant valleys of pure, untouched natural beauty. And above it all was the sense of unquestioning belonging extending from the very air itself they breathed.
“Don’t stare and wonder too long, it’ll make it harder to leave when we have to eventually.” The lupinal said to her friends as they shook their heads and followed her down the mountainside towards one of the forested vales below. At the edge of the vale ran the shimmering, sun-touched ribbon of blue that marked the edge of the great river Oceanus.
“What was that?” Tristol asked he blinked. A single tear ran down his face as he turned away from the sky above.
“Don’t become too attached or you won’t be able to leave. It’s the mirror of Hades. That plane takes away your free will, your feelings, your beliefs and your spirit and leaves you apathetic, drained and unable to leave by your own actions. Elysium though makes you unwilling to leave. Having seen the face of perfection, how could you abide to separate yourself from it? We have something to do though, come.”
Together and resolute they moved steadily to the river on the horizon that would eventually bring them to Belarian and the fortress of Rubicon. With the sun shining down warmly and the wind at their backs they proceeded steadfast and smiling, the plane itself rewarding the will and intent to do good.
****
The Keeper of the Tower was smiling as he gazed down at a series of reports that lay scattered across his desk in an organized chaos of paper, petitioners and sensory stones. Helekanalaith reached up and adjusted the gold rimmed spectacles perched on his snout as habit, though in truth neither he nor any other of his kind needed them, it simply happened to be an affectation to imply greater wisdom or knowledge.
“And I trust that you’ve sent the Elysian bastards a fine little present of well meaning deceit?” The Keeper never looked up at his current guest as he spoke.
“Everyone involved with me gets what they want, more or less, I aim to please all. Anyone involved in this who hasn’t been dealing with me… well… let’s just say they’ll have what’s been coming to them. No?”
Helekanalaith glanced up into the shimmering blue grin that hovered in the air in front of his desk. This time the smiling icon had affected a pair of spectacles like his own and sprouted fangs. But still, the Cheshire Fiend seemed entirely too chipper at times.
“Everything will happen as The Ebon has planned down to the last drop of blood spilt on planes as far removed as Celestia and the Abyss. A pity I won’t be directly involved in it before it’s all reached a climax. But when is our kind ever directly involved? Let the Mezzoloths fight while we push paper and pull strings. After all, it’s how we’ve always done things.” The Keeper said as he smiled back at his representative who flashed cobalt fangs in reply.
“But we do get to enjoy the benefits of being on a winning side, something which not everyone in this conflict will be a part of. Assuming of course that all goes as planned.”
“It had better. I’ve already had to give up a toy of mine in this all and if things don’t work according to our plans then I’m second in line to face the consequences when the dust settles and the blood dries. The Ebon would of course be directly held accountable, not that I see any flaw in his plans in the slightest.” Helekanalaith said, hastily adding the final conditional to his last statement as he felt an unsettling chill pass over him. The same occurred whenever he had spoken his co-conspirator’s name aloud in anything but high esteem.
“In any event my lord, do you have any further instructions for me to carryout before I return to my duties? I have to go send two more to Elysium to meet up with their fellows. They’ll be needed for what we’ve sent them to do.” The Cheshire Fiend said as it looked at the Keeper.
Helekanalaith thought for a moment before replying. “Yes. Continue to ensure that the Marauder has little use of her own toy for the moment. Being as how I’m to be denied the use of my own to further The Ebon’s designs I feel it only equitable that she and I at least be equal partners in this all. I believe that you can accomplish that, and again, make sure that they carry out what needs to be done in Elysium. Mydianchlarus’s followers must be butchered to the last and make certain that the rogue lupinal dies quickly. I have no wish for him to be questioned, not that he knows much more than he’s been told or deludes himself into believing.”
The Cheshire Fiend nodded back, “She won’t have access to him for several more days at the very least; more if I can help it. As for the rest of it, trust in me my lord. It’s not an entirely alien concept to us all, and you know me better than most I should think.”
The Keeper sighed and removed his glasses before looking pointedly at his servant, “I know the meaning of trust among our kind more so than most. I know just what it means for us to express it and the logical ends to which it proceeds. I have learned through that that pragmatism is the best I should aim for in all cases, and I am ultimately pragmatic in all things including this current endeavor. As for trusting you? You’ve never failed me in anything where blame could be placed upon you, but do keep in mind that I have more offspring than just yourself…”
****
The cleric’s voice was soft and shaken as he repeated himself and looked up at Clueless, “They sent me to the mazes…”
Clueless nodded to his friend, “They sent me to one too. How’d you get out?”
“They sent one of the Mercykillers after me, find out what I saw… They sent me to one of The Lady’s mazes…” He was shaking at the memory and starting to weep.
Clueless walked over and wrapped an arm around his shoulder to console him. The man seemed seconds away from a panic attack as he seemed to be recalling his memories of the events he had been a silent witness to now as the lingering touch of the Waste had lost its grip on his mind and spirit.
“Do you know where they sent me?” The cleric asked softly.
“The Lady’s mazes, that’s all you’ve said.”
“No… which one?” He clarified.
Clueless shook his head, “No, where did they send you?”
He took a deep breath and replied with a single word, “Terrance.”
Clueless inhaled deeply as well. Terrance had been the Factol of the Athar. “...F*ck.”
The elf continued with a harrowed voice, “Me, I had my faith tested for 8 days, and I can't even remember what it was that I spoke to him about in there. It was only he and I… and the maze. It was like She'd taken a part of Sigil and spun it off into somewhere else, but changed it, altered it to how it once was. And how it never was.”
“In there,” He continued, “In the maze with Terrance, was the Shattered Temple, only it wasn't shattered. It was there, all of it, in the height of its glory. Thrown in Terrance’s face, telling him he was wrong. But it was also telling him he was right in a way. Every symbol of Aoskar in that temple was broken, torn asunder, pierced through with blades. It was a monument to every power in the multiverse and an epithet for one at the same time. She's teaching him a lesson, but I can't remember what it was. They took my memories from me…”
Clueless nodded as he listened, occasionally brushing his hair back gently and nodded. Nisha placed some food and drink before them both and let the exchange between old comrades continue without her interference otherwise. The man had been through an experience she didn’t envy, and Clueless had shared in a similar one that she could not, nor would she care to, claim.
"He might learn it eventually. There's a man that may help your memories if you wish..." Clueless said, bringing to mind the Githzerai with the Bleakers who had helped him originally.
“I’m not certain I wish to remember. Whatever happened in there I do know that Terrance refused to answer some of the questions I heard myself asking him repeatedly. He said that he would rot in there for eternity before he told me those answers. He was frightened I think of whatever it was that I asked him, and even more afraid of answering. There was terror in his eyes…”
****
