Session 13 (136) Part One - Teaser
Bit of an odd one this. I ran the teaser for Schism knowing that it would go down well with my group. I also knew that it was unlikely they would jump into role and start interacting with the story, so the whole thing ran as written in the text, with just one major alteration from me.
So this part of the session report is more-or-less verbatim (because it saved me typing out my own version). I include it here, for completeness' sake, but would be happy to delete it and simply write ran the teaser at the start of session 13:
TEASER
Your ship passes close to the scrub-brushed shore, weaving between looming stones that jut from the sea, some of them even higher than the vessel’s sails. Hazy clouds and sea spray fade the island into a foggy gray, but somehow the crew navigates to a small pier.
The ride inland from the dock is brief and surprising. As you and the other passengers look out from your two carriages, the island looks wholly abandoned, and it’s hardly an auspicious gathering place for a group as powerful as the Obscurati.
You look around at the other guests: three clergy priests, a flamboyant Danoran opera singer, a dour Drakren dwarf, even a half-elf from Risur, plus a few whose nationality you can’t place. Most remain unsure of each other. But you all know Leone Quital, the steelshaper, who arranged your travel. It’s been a convoluted route, but the precautions are necessary.
The drivers bring you down an overgrown dirt road, along a weed-choked reflecting pool, and finally pull to a stop just outside a run-down mansion. Cracked and empty windows leer down at you, and even the plants that have taken over the estate are tattered and bug-eaten.
You spot two figures at the front door, and though the entry behind them is rotted, they are resplendent. A distinguished old tiefling, dressed like a head of state in a black silk suit and golden jewelry, is attended by a human in a loose coat. He whispers something to the tiefling, then lifts off the ground an ornate glass lantern the size of a small pumpkin.
“My apologies,” says the tiefling. “One drawback of secrecy is that we have to carry our own luggage.” As you exit the two carriages, your drivers hand you each a heavy iron amulet on a cord, and once you’ve retrieved your luggage they drive off.
The human with the lamp talks as he reaches into his coat and pulls out a small vial of oil.
“Lady, gentlemen, may I introduce Han Jierre, sovereign of Danor and one of the people you’ve been working for, whether you knew it or not.”
The tiefling gives a slight smile to you, then works his way down the line of visitors, greeting you each with a handshake or a bow or a subtle blessed gesture, always appropriate to your culture, always comfortable and with the practiced ease of a seventeenth generation politician.
“Leone, an honor to finally shake your hand. Monsignior Dexlano, Patre Hevny, Bishop Vigilio your grace. Monsignior Don. Oscan how’s it going? Monsieur Guiscard, Herr Hetman, Miss Hatsfield, thank you for coming so far. Mister McDruid, Sir Sangria. It’s a pleasure to meet you all.” He goes on in self-deprecating fashion to explain his presence at the entry way to the mansion. “I wanted to assure all new comers that they have not been engaged in a secret Danoran military project all this time. I am not the leader of this grand conspiracy of ours, merely a facilitator.”
Then he nods to his assistant. “Bert, if you would?”
The human – who you will later learn is Bert Facie, close aide to the sovereign – has finished loading the lantern oil, and now he lights it with a quick strike of a match. A purple glow covers you, and your surroundings are spontaneously transformed: The cracked dusty ground is now also smooth and swept clean. The façade of the mansion is somehow both decayed and coated with pristine white plaster. And your small gathering has been joined by dimly visible figures on the periphery of the light’s radius: armed men.
Han Jierre asks everyone to put on their amulets, explaining that they are currently coterminous to the Bleak Gate, and the amulet will pull them through to the other side over the course of five minutes. When their business here is over, they’ll be returned to the real world via the same method. He’d prefer to hold off any questions until they were safely in the other world.
As each person puts on their amulet (including Han and Bert), they transfer into the Bleak Gate, and can now see a predominately dark world with a cloudless black sky. Only a small area is illuminated by lights from the mansion windows and lamps beside the flower bushes that grow along the reflecting pool. A dozen bookpin guards – distinguished by silver pins on their lapels that look like open books – stand just at the edge of the lantern’s light radius.
Han says, “Please pardon us as we perform a bit of security.” From outside the light radius a massive snake slithers in, at first inky black. The moment it gets into an area of bright light its scales turn a brilliant iridescent in reds, greens, and purples. It grasps the ground with short, stubby forelimbs, and its eyes glow like pale yellow suns. In this light those who have disguised themselves with shapechanging or illusions have their true forms revealed.
The guards start to level their weapons, for one of the newly-arrived guests looks like someone completely different: Monsignior Dexlano, originally a heavy-set pale priest, is now revealed as a poised, muscular dark-skinned man. As he realizes his disguise has been pierced he reaches to tear off his amulet, but the serpent moves first. Its eyes flash with blinding light, and the man’s body starts to blacken and peel away while his shadow is slowly burned into the manor wall behind him.
The rest of your group – particularly the priests – are panicked and confused. Bert Facie starts shouting for people to stay away from the shadowlisk. Han calmly taps a nearby guard on the shoulder and tells him to fetch Vicemi, and the guard runs indoors.
Ten seconds later, the intruder has been disintegrated, leaving behind only a silhouette on the manor wall. That silhouette twitches slightly, as if it is somehow still alive. The shadowlisk slithers up to the wall and starts licking the silhouette’s fingers.
The other priests nervously demand answers, asking why the snake just murdered one of their bethren. The answer comes from the door as four spectral figures glide through. Three of the ghosts hang back, while the one in front takes control of the situation: this is Vicemi Terio, leader of the Ghost Council and head of Lantern Cell. Even in ghost form he appears to be rotting and cadaverous, and he speaks with a raspy voice that reverberates unnaturally and chills all those who hear it.
“That man was a spy,” he says. “Your fellow priest was replaced and likely died long ago. You should be more careful in keeping your secrets. But we will find out how you were compromised. Macbannin.”
One of the three other ghosts walks forward. While Vicemi’s face is withered and decayed, and the other two ghosts’ features are faded like they don’t remember what they looked like in life, Reed Macbannin retains his original appearance and, having not yet become accustomed to his spirit form, still mostly walks rather than floats. He stops next to the still-twitching shadow of the intruder, casually shoos the shadowlisk aside, and draws a very solid vial of blood out of his spectral cloak.
“Really,” Macbannin laughs, “it’d worry me more if we didn’t have any spies trying to come here.”
With that he coats his hands in blood, then reaches into the wall and grabs the shadows. He yanks, and Vitus falls to the ground shivering and burnt, barely alive. The guards swarm him, search him, and manacle him. Macbannin casts another quick spell to fully hold Vitus in the Bleak Gate, then pulls off his amulet.
“I’ll take him to the dungeon,” Macbannin says. Then he grins and winks to the new arrivals. “Welcome to the Obscurati.”
As Macbannin and the guards drag the intruder away, Han introduces the you all to Vicemi Terio, and then asks the two remaining Clergy priests to stay and answer a few questions. He then enters the mansion and guides the newcomers inside and upstairs.
The interior is as opulent as the exterior, clearly designed to make an impression and express the power and wealth of the Obscurati. While you walk you overhear Han talking with Leone: “I heard about your difficulties in Mirsk earlier this month. Is it true they dragged you as far north as Knutpara?” Leone, sociable as ever, merely growls with displeasure at the memory. “Well, you are safe now, that’s the main thing. Congratulations on ridding us of that persistent threat. And my heartfelt thanks for avenging the death of my niece.”
“It was my absolute pleasure,” sneers Leone. “Ten long years of work, undone. That’s what they cost me.”
“Take heart,” says Han. “Divinations point to Methia, and there is news of Kasvarina’s whereabouts too. We will regain control of the colossus, do not fear. Go on inside. Bring your guests to the council room.”
Many visitors are already at the palace, and as you pass through the lounges on the ground floor, you see dozens of officers smoking cigars, swapping stories, or simply browsing the numerous bookshelves that are dotted about. As the group passes through a lounge, a dragonborn bard named Praesidia de Vaca does a double-take and calls out “Mr. Guiscard!” She gushes with fan-girl glee at seeing the famous opera star, and she’s gobsmacked that Gran is involved in the same conspiracy. She asks if maybe, before the gathering is over, the two of them be able to sing “The Marriage of Achaea and Hibiscus.” Gran happens to have that very piece on him, a signed copy no less, and he hands it to her for careful study, obliging her request on the condition that she pay close attention to the particularly difficult harmonies towards the end of the duet.
So far, apart from the alarming welcome, the convocation seems to be lively and convivial. Once you head upstairs and down the west wing’s second floor hallway, though, the mansion appears nearly empty. None of the hall lamps are lit, lights are visible from under only a few doors. But there is a dim red glow at the end of the three hundred foot long hallway.
In the vast room at the end of the hallway, a central fireplace roars warmly, but out the glass windows on the north, south, and west walls the whole landscape is nearly black. Together it creates the effect of light disappearing, and darkness encroaching.
A set of luxurious leather chairs are arrayed near the west windows, and one man sits smoking. His hands are gloved, and a bright silver necklace is visible around his neck, but tucked into his shirt. At first he seems alone, but as he stands to greet you, it becomes clear that a dozen or more ghosts are floating outside the windows, watching.
He says, “Call me Nicodemus. I’m glad you came. Come on. Let’s have a drink and talk. Together we’re going to change the world.”
I messed around with the timeline a bit more, jumping back to a glimpse of the party trudging through snowy wastes, then next to the point where Korrigan finds out his team has been successful in tracking down Leone:
