The Province of Pillsnarth Campaign

[Daldolin15]

Hello, my PCs are drawing to a close in the current D&D campaign I am running and I've begun to commerate their adventures into a written epic. This is just the prelude to the story.

I should warn that there are spoilers from the
Dungeon magazine Adventure Path contained within.

The Province of Pillsnarth: Prelude

The wizard stared intently at the flaming phantasms rolling across the barren sky. He absently mindedly reached out to stroke his long beard before realizing that it was no longer there. He pulled his loose robes tighter around his body as a shivered moved through him. This barren layer disturbed something deep within him. Once a portion of the Seven Mounting Heavens of Celestia it had plummeted into the Abyss over 3000 years ago. The deep conflict between its lawful good origin and current chaotic evil state caused a deep feeling of wrongness in the wizard’s core. He turned westwards to survey the valley that lay before him. Roughly fifty feet down the steep incline before him the fleshy barren land became dotted by shallow pits of smoking caustic smelling fluid. Further across the plains a huge rock formation resembling a half-buried skull spewed more fires plasms into the air. “Humph, so this is the Plain of Ulcers…” the man muttered to himself.

“That place is not meant for you mortal, you should return to your home plane before you get hurt.” a cold voice suddenly spoke up behind the wizard. He cursed his negligence at not noticing the creatures approach. He whirled around to face the owner of the voice and was surprised of all things to see a deva. Its time on this abysmal layer seemed to have taken its toll as its wings had turned a dark sooty black and its body was covered with foul tattoos and scars.

“I could say the same thing about you angel,” the wizard began, “Its rare to see one of your kind wandering Occipitus.”

“My presence in this place has always been, and always will be human. I can handle the beasts that call this place home, but you may find yourself vastly outmatched by the wards left by this layers former prince.” the dour celestial replied.

The wizard laughed as a hot blast of caustic air from the plains below blew his dark brown hair into disarray. “I am hardly what I appear to be outsider! Soon ownership of this layer may belong to a new prince!” With these words the man finished an incantation within his head and with only a small flicker of light vanished from the celestial’s presence.

Moments later he reappeared next to one of the pools of bubbling acid completing the dimension door spell. Speaking another incantation he threw a small black stone into the fluid causing it suddenly bubble and foam before completely evaporating. Quickly working his way through a series of underground tunnels he finally found himself standing before the source of the fiery plasms spilling through what appeared to be a rip in the very material of the plane.

“Hmm, so this is it.” the wizard began to mumble again as he began to move around the geyser of energy studying it carefully. As he stared into the flames he swore he saw an almost humanoid shape moving beneath the ripples of flame. As he stood transfixed attempting to make out the image he swore he saw of pair of deep red eyes starring back out into his own…

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Master Adrian Beleth of the Arcane Order slowly moved his hands through his graying beard as he stared at the others across the small obsidian table. The garishly dressed noble woman from Cauldron covered her mouth with a small white cloth as she giggled, having apparently found the man’s attempt at compromise rather funny. The beholder floating above her, however, seemed to still be intently listening.

Having pushed the cloth square into a small pocket on her hideously bright gown the woman began twirling one of her many rings as she spoke. “What you are suggesting is quite a heinous little act. What makes you possibly think we would go for such a thing?”

“Lady Rhiavadi, has a point,” the beholder began to speak, “we both already seem to be in an excellent position. All our needs are provided for by the good citizens of the city, and none are the wiser.”

Beleth reached his hand our and began to pet a large black crow perched on the arm of his plush chair. “Ah, but I can only answer that question with another question my friend. The most important question that needs to be asked…”

With these words the crow began to twist and reshape itself before their eyes. After only a matter of moments the bird had formed into what appeared to be figure wrapped in a deep black cloak its face shielded save for two small pinpoints of red light that resembled eyes. Beleth couldn’t help be think that it resembled those strange undead known as wraiths. As the figure looked up at the people in the room it uttered its question in a rasping voice, “What desire burns in your heart?”

 

[Daldolin15]

Introduction to Shade

Fosse moved quickly down the city street dodging between the few remaining people still walking about this late in the day. As he moved he rubbed his ink stained hands against his dark black tunic. As he collided with a small winger child he mumbled a curse and hurried onward. “I hate cities…” he kept repeating to himself as he turned another corner quickly.

“It’s all those damn people, right?” an all too familiar voice whispered in his head. He quickly shook the whispering off and continued his trek through the winding streets. It was only as he moved his hand down to his hand down to pat his gray carrying bag that he realized it was suspiciously light. As he opened it his mind began to quickly inventory everything in it and in a matter of seconds he had determined what was missing. Two of the three scrolls he had just finished scribing were gone along with his money pouch.

“Be the silver lady’s light, I hate cities!” he muttered as he instantly recalled his momentary collision with the winger boy. Almost as if looking for guidance he turned his head skyward only to see a dark empty sky…a new moon. “Typical!” he shouted skyward before slamming the pack shut. His original destination was one of the many inns of Mondar, the imperial city he had found himself in after almost a year of travels, but with his money gone along with his only source of income he would no longer even be able to afford the seediest lodgings.

“Well, well, little Fosse, you seem to be in quite a bind!” the man seemed to come out of nowhere and hit the boy’s back hard twice. “So you have no money and nothing to sell. How is that big brain of yours going to get us out of this one, eh?”

Fosse turned his back to his unwanted travel companion and began to walk away. “Go away old man. I’ll make due on my own.” With that he began to run down the street as fast as he could knowing full well that the man would already be wherever he ended up.

His mind quickly analyzed the situation and immediately came to a conclusion. In a few more minutes he found himself in front of a series of stables meant for the steeds of the cities many occupants and visitors. The calm of night had settled over the city and currently no guards were patrolling this area. Quietly he worked his way into one of the building pushing the somewhat pungent odor of assorted animals out of his mind. Several of the horses snorted and whinnied as he snuck his way past several of the occupied stalls. Eventually he found an unoccupied one that was clean enough to suit his purposes, arranged the straw into a make-shift bed and nodded off into a troubled sleep.

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When the light washed over his face Fosse thought for a moment that sun had risen on a new day, but quickly he noted that the rustling sounds around him did not sound like those made by the horses. With a start he opened eyes and sat up to see a large man dressed in dirt covered garb carrying a lantern and a shovel. “What are ya doin’ in ma stables boy!” the man exclaimed from under a thick oily mustache.

“Well, um uh, hmmm.” Fosse stuttered for a moment before falling silent. He knew there was no suitable explanation for being found here and so he decided not even to attempt an explanation.

The boy’s silence seemed to enraged the dirty man even more and he began to move toward him brandishing the shovel even more menacing. “Ya little urchin! I’m gonna give ya a beatin ya wo--” the man was cut off in mid-sentence as the right side of his face collapsed inward with a sickening crunching sound and a spattering of blood hit the stable wall behind Fosse’s head. The man collapsed onto the straw sending his lantern spinning onto the floor. The light came to a stop and illuminated his travel companion holding a bloody war hammer smiling. In the dim illumination the lantern provided his wide toothed grin and pale skin looked even more malevolent.

“What in the hells did you just do?!” Fosse shouted at his companion. “Yo-You killed him! Why?”

“I thought now was a good time for a little lesson boy. Lets take this hammer for example.” The man spun the huge instrument effortlessly in his hands as he spoke. “You see, this hammer killed that man, but can it really be called evil?”

“What are you talking about?! You just murdered him for no good reason!” Fosse continued to shout in a panicked voice. Nearby the horses were beginning to become more agitated moving loudly about in their stalls.

“Oh bother, you’re totally missing the point.” The man uttered shaking his head. He quickly took two steps and swung the war hammer at Fosse’s head.

The boy immediately awoke screaming and flailing sending straw flying in all directions. He quickly took his bearing as he rubbed the side of this face that he thought the war hammer had slammed into. He was still in the stable, dawn had not yet come, it had been another damn dream. “Bad dreams?” Fosse’s companion shot up next to him surprising the boy. “They say that nightmares are signs of a tortured soul.” he continued smiling at his own little joke.

“Get the hell away from me old man.” Fosse quickly stood and began making his way out of the stable and out into the night air. He ran down a few of the empty streets and turned a corned only to run headlong into a group of rather burly men. He immediately noted the smell of alcohol emanating from the men.

“What’s this now?” one of the men said with a slightly slurred speech. “Didncha mother tell you not to be wanderin the streets boy?” The man grabbed Fosse’s tunic and shoved him into a nearby alley. “What are ya boy, some kind of scribe?”

Fosse began backing farther into the alley before realizing that it was putting him farther away from any chance of help. “Hah, he might be some kind of prentice wizzer’d or something boss.” One of the other men said sarcastically as all four began moving toward the boy.

“That’s right,” Fosse tried to sound confident as he spoke, “I’m a great and powerful wizard!” From the men’s ensuing laughter he figured that they probably did not believe him.

“Oh another fine mess you’ve gotten us into now!” His companion appeared from under a pile of trash. “I think a lightning bolt would be appropriate about now. Well, what are you waiting for? Blast these thugs into tomorrow Fosse!” the companion exclaimed.

“I-I-I don’t know how t-to cast that.” Fosse stammered as the men continued to bear down on him.

“What's dis now? The boy’s talking to himself!” one of the thugs shouted. “What doncha know how to cast?”

“Oh fine! I’ll do it myself!” the companion shouted as he stood up and lunged at the boy. As their bodies made contact Fosse inhaled sharply as he felt a cold sensation move throughout his body. Suddenly it seemed as if he was watching everything from a different point of view as if he was a spectator. He began to utter strange phrases in a deep booming voice as his hands began tracing the air lightning crackling between his fingertips.

Suddenly the men’s breaths began to fog as the temperature in the alley sharply dropped. This sudden display of magical ability paused the men as Fosse continued to gather more and more electrical energy between his two outstretched hands. As quickly as they entered the alley the men turned and ran. Fosse stopped speaking his incantation and collapsed onto the ground suddenly covered in a thick sweat and totally out of breath. “What the hell did you do to me?” he gasped as he looked up at his travel companion looming over him.

“Nevermind that my little Fosse, you beat them! Let us celebrate!” the man began dancing around in the alley stopping to pick up random pieces of trash and throw it into the air.

“I’ve told you a thousand times not call me Fosse.” The boy said, starting to regain his breath. “Fosse died a year ago, I’m known as Shade now.”

His companion stopped his dancing and stared directly into Shade’s eyes, his smile fading. As the two stared at each other the boy marveled at how every aspect of his companion from the thin brown hair, to the pasty white skin was identical to his own save for the fact that Shade never smiled….ever. “Fine.” his companion finally replied breaking off his stare. “If we are throwing away our old names I might as well come up with one of my own.” The man began to pace for a moment before suddenly grinning broadly. “Well Foss-, ahem, I mean Shade, you can now call me Night. Now can we move along? The sun is rising and all those people you so love will begin crowding the streets again soon.”

Shade stood up and straightened his clothing before exiting the alley. The old man was right; the sun had already risen casting its golden light into the young wizard’s face. As the boy walked down the streets behind every step his companion followed.

End Introduction to Shade