Sagiro's Story Hour: The FINAL Adventures of Abernathy's Company (FINISHED 7/3/14)

Sagiro

Rodent of Uncertain Parentage
Thanks Sagiro, this story hour is great! :) But I have to warn you, if you continue making frequent updates I'm going to start EXPECTING them! ;)

I guess I'd better slow down, then. ;) (In all likelihood they will slow down; I've had more free time than usual the past week or so, but the upcoming week or two will be on the busy side.)

Regarding Ernie discovery of Tava's Righteous Fury, I call the reader's attention to the halfling's stay at the Inn Between, following his long-ago-now death in the golem city of Repose. From the Story Hour c.10 years ago:

"Before he returned to the living, Ernie was made to promise two things as payment for being brought back to life. One was that some time after the party’s current quest, they’d have to come back and help the halflings of Appleseed, whose people will be in a great peril from which only the party can save them..."
 

log in or register to remove this ad

Everett

First Post
The Far Realm is outside time and space, so I'm not sure asking questions about quantity have any meaning in regards to it.

Hmm. That's rather Kantian, now that I think about it.

And yet, there must be space and distance, or the act of throwing a bottle would have no meaning either. What the Far Realms ARE can't just be philosophical detrius, or you couldn't tell a story about them.
 

Piratecat

Sesquipedalian
And yet, there must be space and distance, or the act of throwing a bottle would have no meaning either. What the Far Realms ARE can't just be philosophical detritus, or you couldn't tell a story about them.
This is a good example of something that the DM doesn't need to define. If H.P. Lovecraft wrote D&D, the Far Realms are where the Great Old Ones would dwell. They epitomize insanity and wisdom draining; angles are non-euclidean, hideous tentacular monstrosities that Should Not Exist (tm) rule, normal emotions such as hope and pity don't exist, and the dimension is both bounded and eternal. I think of it as a plane full of contradictions.

There may be infinite "cleaners," but they simply don't care about us. Even though they serve a tremendously important purpose in the campaign (details forthcoming), they're mostly a plot device that has certain rules for when we interact with it. Sagiro will never need to decide how big the Far Realms is (assuming that phrase actually has any meaning for such an odd plane) because we're never going to need to know. I hope.

That brings me to something kind of remarkable about this game. For all that we're almost epic level, we are terribly aware of our own fragility and inconsequence in the multiverse. Yeah, there aren't a lot of mortal combatants who can match us on Charagan or Kivia, but the Emperor's machinations are vast and subtle enough that we often feel we're playing catch-up. It's sort of humbling, and it's remarkable that this power scaling has never once felt strained.
 
Last edited:

StevenAC

Explorer
Yeah, there aren't a lot of mortal combatants who can match us on Spira ...
Ahem... some leakage coming through from elsewhere in the multiverse there? :D

Never mind; I've used Dranko's little mishap as the ending point for the latest chapter of the Collected Story Hour, now available at the usual place... Enjoy! :)
 

Siuis

Explorer
That brings me to something kind of remarkable about this game. For all that we're almost epic level, we are terribly aware of our own fragility and inconsequence in the multiverse. Yeah, there aren't a lot of mortal combatants who can match us on Charagan or Kivia, but the Emperor's machinations are vast and subtle enough that we often feel we're playing catch-up. It's sort of humbling, and it's remarkable that this power scaling has never once felt strained.

I find this awesome as well. Do you think it has to do with the slower hand-out of experience (or whatever else you folks use to slow down the leveling process)? I've noticed (and been told, actually) that the character's in this particular game go up in experience at about half the normal rate, which would give ample time to both explore the new level of power each of you has attained upon reaching a new level, and even more time to explore your place in the world(s). There has been a definite lack of the usual "these 15th level people have been around all along, and you're just now hearing about them because you've never asked before" that I've seen... Almost everywhere. I can only hope to emulate this sort of thing in my own games.

As a side note, does anyone remember what chapter reference to the "slave Primes" appears? I actually could use the explanation (since it was much more concise than anything I could come up with) to cut out a lot of rule-mongering going on at me own table, but don't have the time to find it right now...

Well, I guess I could work backwards and use a copy+find+paste, but that would be agonizing.
 

Piratecat

Sesquipedalian
As a side note, does anyone remember what chapter reference to the "slave Primes" appears? I actually could use the explanation (since it was much more concise than anything I could come up with) to cut out a lot of rule-mongering going on at me own table, but don't have the time to find it right now...
All praise StevenAC!

[sblock=Talking to Cranchus]Cranchus shakes his head. “It happens,” he whispers hoarsely. “It happens. But it will only set me back a day or two, and
I’ve already learned something about the Eyes. I have a theory, anyhow. These Eyes, they work with Condor’s Plinths to
allow time travel. They would need to draw on a huge amount of Earth Magic to work, but by mathematical necessity they
couldn’t draw power from this earth – from Abernia. It would lead to some paradoxes and… well, planetary ruin. So the
Eyes, the first time they were called upon, must have found another nearby Prime, and used that one. I’m guessing that they
created a Slave Prime in the process.”

Aha! That would be Volpos, the world that the Black Circle tried to cause to overlap Abernia in order to transfer the Emperor
and his armies. The world on which the Emperor is, thankfully, still trapped.

“That’s a phenomenon found sporadically throughout the cosmos,” explains Cranchus. “Slave Primes. Sometimes two Primes
get caught up together, and one gets cut off entirely from all the coterminous planes – you know, the Astral, the Ethereal, et
cetera. The Slave Prime is cut off from all other planes save its ‘master.’ They are perfect places for a prison, if you want to
stop someone from escaping via planar travel. I’ve always wondered how such places come into being. I guess it must be
unique in each case.”

Aravis asks, “If the connection between Prime and Slave is severed, would that cause the Slave to be cut off entirely, or freed
to the rest of the universe?”

“I’d guess cut off entirely,” says Cranchus. “But that would be extremely hard to do, assuming it’s possible at all. I doubt
Condor intended that to happen in this case. I think the Eyes did it on their own – they needed a world to power Moirel’s time
travel, and there was Volpos, and wham – Slave Prime.”

Ernie smiles. “So the Emperor was indirectly responsible for creating his own eventual prison, and probably has no idea?”

Cranchus chuckles. Dranko lets out a loud guffaw. “Now that’s comedy!”[/sblock]

I'm a huge fan of the slower advancement; I did the same thing in my last campaign, with everyone leveling once per 10-12 sessions. The story is so good we don't care about leveling much, and we know our capabilities and teamwork down pat. There has never been a case I can think of where a really powerful bad guy pops out of nowhere. Pretty much everyone we've fought is someone who we've heard of for a long time, or someone whose presence has caused ripples in the world already.

Friggin' rat.
 

Thanks for the rash of recent updates Sagiro. I guess they'll have to hold us for the next few weeks. Although, it's been a while since I've gone back and re-read the story from the beginning. Ahh, the days of pits and rats :)
 

Sagiro

Rodent of Uncertain Parentage
Sagiro’s Story Hour, Part 311
Dranko's Bargain

Everyone is mightily impressed by Ernie's new weapon, though perhaps a bit put out by the timing. It's one more thing on the pile, since even if the time to help Appleseed is merely 'drawing near,' they ought to give this High Priestess Sunblade a heads-up. Their new itinerary: leave West Greydust, stop off to visit Evenstar in the mountains, then hop to Appleseed to warn the halflings, and finally pop down to Kai Kin to scout out the Black Circle temple.

Dranko doesn't say what all of them are thinking, though: somewhere in there the Cleaner could come back. It makes him sick just to think about.

He takes his mind off it by helping Flicker dig in the dead ooze for loot. They find a few magical goodies, including a highly-polished shield that can cast spell turning. Ernie flies up to the ceiling of the Dustwine cave and finds it riddled with holes and crevices. The smell is bad but not overwhelming, and he hears no sound of other jellies.

Grey Wolf flicks of piece of slime from his shoulder. “So we can tell the town we got rid of one horrible creature, but not necessarily all of them.”

Speaking of loot, Aravis decided to blow a wish, right then and there, to turn Zeg's Robe of the Archmagi from evil to good. Then, in a magnanimous gesture, he gives it to Kibi. While the dwarf tries it on, Dranko picks up a magical sack that looks empty and reaches inside. He pulls out a fuzzy sphere like a plush brown tennis ball.

“Great,” he mutters, tossing it aside. With a comical popping sound, the ball transforms into a mountain lion which immediately lets loose with a ear-splitting roar.

Dranko takes a step back. “Er.... nice kitty? Would you, um, like to go back in the bag?” He is equally surprised to see the lion obey his orders. It shrinks as it leaps, and vanishes into the sack.

“I have a bag full of mountain lions!” Dranko announces. He turns to Grey Wolf's monkey familiar, Edghar. “If you poop in my shoes one more time...”

While this is going on, Morningstar is steeping a dozen moontears in the basin full of dustwine. After they have soaked for an hour the Company hikes back down Mt. Temun and returns to Seppet's hut. He listens wide-eyed to their tale.

Dranko loves this part of his job. Leaning back in a chair and exuding a casual flippancy, he sums up the encounter. “So, yeah, basically, there was giant blob of intelligent slime about the size of your barn.”

“Oh my goodness!” Seppet exclaims. “So that was the terrible monster of legend.”

“It's dead,” says Ernie, “but there may be more.”

“If anyone goes back,” Dranko suggests, “bring a goat and send it along first. If there are more blobs, they'll drop down on the goat.”

“And are the stories about Dustwine true? Does it drive out evil spirits?”

“We don't know,” Aravis admits.

As the Company prepares to leave, Seppet bows low. “You have certainly given a good impression of people from Charagan. Are so many of you great warriors who can defeat enormous slime monsters?”

Dranko acts casual. “Nah, we're totally famous there. They have parades for us.” No one notices that his eyes take on a faraway look as he boasts.

“Just one parade,” Aravis corrects.

“What did you do to deserve a parade?”

Dranko pulls a huge tooth from his haversack. “We fought a huge dragon and saved the world.”


* *

The Company teleports back to Tal Hae and spends the rest of the day on logistics. As the Seven Stars Ritual will require some complex stonework and general retrofitting of their Black Circle ritual room in Kallor, Kibi arranges to have dwarven artisans sent to do the work. (In fact, he uses the same team that's been repairing Longtooth Keep for them.) And while they're recruiting experts, they contact Ozilinsh and set him to some of the thornier mathematical equations that need to be worked out. He eagerly accepts the challenge.

Dranko slips away from his friends and heads to the Manse of the Undermen. He invites Lucas Blackwell into his office.

“Lucas, how do you think you would do at my job?”

Lucas peers closely at Dranko. “Given that I've done your job for many months at a time, I'd say I could perform passably well as the Oracle.”

“Fantastic,” says Dranko.

“Are you going on another extended leave?”

“No. However, I have a little problem. That problem is, a hideous tentacled monstrosity from another dimension is going to take from me that which is most important.”

Lucas blinks. “Your money?

Dranko laughs. “You'd think so. I do have lots of money. But, no. In order to get what I need, I'm going to offer... something else. I think that when I make this bargain, everything is going to change. And I think that I won't be the leader of the Undermen, and will never have been. What I think will happen, is that you will be the leader of the Undermen, and I will be your highly able adviser from the shadows.”

“This is similar to what happened to you the last time?”

“Different in specifics, but yeah, similar.”

Lucas sighs. “Might I advise you to stay out of the sorts of trouble you keep getting yourself into?”

Dranko throws up his hands. “It's not my fault! I threw a bottle into the void when giant tentacles were ripping apart a pocket universe, and...”

“Stop,” Lucas interrupts. “Say that one more time slowly.”

“I threw a bottle into the void...”

“What is the void?”

Dranko makes a face. “The void is the space left over when sanity dies. It's a giant black place of whirling and gibbering.”

Lucas winces. “You are not making yourself very clear, but I'll take it as a given that this Void is a bad place.”

“Yes,” says Dranko. “And now I'm going to have to give up something that I love.”

“And one day when I wake up, I will be the leader of the Undermen,” says Lucas. “Are you sure it will be me?”

“No,” Dranko admits, “but it seems very likely. And if you do get the job, I'll make it as easy as possible for you.”

Lucas scratches his chin. “Can I leave myself a note about this?”

“You can try. I don't really know what will happen. Either way, I want you to know that I'm honored to have you as a friend, and that I think you do good work.”

Lucas bows his head. “Thank you.”

Dranko laughs grimly. “Also, in case the monster doesn't accept my bargain, and drags me screaming into the madness...”

“Then I suppose I'll still become the leader of the Undermen,” Lucas finishes. “Though I promise I won't enjoy it as much.”


* *


Satisfied that things are moving forward, they teleport back to West Greydust the next morning and issue a sending to Evenstar, that they're in the neighborhood and would like to stop by. The reply is enthusiastically positive, so they wind walk for a few hours eastward toward the mountains.

The one Ellish shrine in Kivia is extremely well hidden, and for good reason. For one thing, the Delfirians do occasionally send scouts into the high mountain passes, looking for signs of Bederen incursion. For another, on this side of the Uncrossable Sea, the night belongs to Dralla. Doubtless the Mother of Monsters would be displeased to find a pocket of Ellish worshipers.

On foot it would be difficult to discover, but Morningstar enters Ava Dormo and scouts the mountains from the air while the others hover. Knowing more-or-less where to look, it only takes her an hour to spot the temple nestled in a high canyon. The Company descends, solidifies, and approaches on foot up a narrow trail. It's well masked, with false tracks leading to precipices and the real one hidden by brush and boulders. Only Morningstar's dream reconnaissance keeps them on the true path. In the middle of a steep scramble they are challenged by an unseen guard high above them.

“Stop! Who is passing?”

“Morningstar of Ell. Evenstar should be expecting me.”

There is a moment of expectant quiet, and then the voice calls down, “You may pass! Continue on your present path.”

The trail continues to meander upward for another half an hour, and they don't meet up again with the sentinel. Finally, in the heat of a cloudless late afternoon, they emerge into a U-shaped canyon. The walls of this mountain enclosure are dotted with beautifully detailed facades, as all of the buildings are built into the canyon walls. The party spots numerous sniping holes and high balconies; this little shrine is extraordinarily defensible.

Evenstar strides out of a nearby building and approaches. Beside her walks a younger woman in full armor, extremely tall and muscular, a triangle shield on one arm and a huge mace in the opposite hand.

Morningstar bows low. “Sister, greetings! Thank you for receiving us.”

Evenstar laughs. “How could we not? We are extremely honored. Allow me to introduce Scola, my bodyguard.”

The tall woman gives a perfunctory nod and eyes the Company with ill-hidden suspicion.

“How long will you be staying?” Evenstar asks.

Morningstar can't help looking around as she answers. “Just for the evening. This place is wonderful!”

Evenstar smiles. “Sisters of Ell have been here for hundreds of years. We are truly blessed to have this sanctuary.”

“How many sisters are here?” asks Morningstar.

“Sixty-five, and every one of us a Daywalker.”

Refreshments are brought to the guests inside a dining hall built into the west wall of the canyon.

“We have a large store of goods,” Evenstar explains, as the Company sups and asks questions. “We have a reasonable trade with Bederen now that we've made contact. They sometimes bring wounded soldiers here. We tend to their needs, and they leave us with supplies.”

She flashes a smile as she adds, “They are thumping the Delfirians, by all accounts.”

After the Company has been fed, Evenstar takes them on a tour of the grounds, showing off the chapels, dormitories, scriptorium and library.

“So you were all called to be Daywalkers?” asks Morningstar, gazing at the large black triangle hanging over the altar of the largest chapel.

“Yes,” Evenstar confirms. “And all on the same day – the first day that there was such an official designation. We assume that we are meant to prepare for an upcoming trial. Do you know what it's nature will be?”

Morningstar looks somber as she answers. “We suspect that Octesian is out there, looking for us in Ava Dormo. He seems to have perhaps gone insane, and is calling for me personally.”

“Would you like us to send out scouts?” asks Evenstar.

“Anything you can do, yes,” says Morningstar, “but don't engage with him! Remember, he can kill your waking bodies.”

“But you can do the same thing to him now,” says Evenstar. “I hope I can be at your side when that day comes.”

“I would feel a lot better if you were there,” says Morningstar.


* *

Before going to sleep, the wizards identify the magic items from their most recent haul. It includes a +4 shield that casts spell turning once per day, a tan bag of tricks, an ear-cuff of perfect balance (+20 to balance checks), a lens (with 12 remaining charges) that doubles the damage from magic missile, and a coin* that improves saving throws

After breakfast the next day, Ernie casts a sending to High Priestess Sunblade.

Ernie sends ahead: I'm Ernest Roundhill. The blade “Tava's Righteous Fury” told me to find you. The Crimson Maw must be closed. How can I find you?

The reply: Ernest? I am Maple Sunblade. I am in the Cathedral at Victory. I look forward to meeting you, and seeing Tava's Righteous Fury for myself.

Aravis teleports the Company into the wastelands far to the east, to one of their campsites from their long sojourn to Het Branoi. From there it will only a few hours wind-walking to the halfling country of Appleseed, and their capital city of Victory. But before they can leave, Dranko feels a wave of nausea wash over him, and his head begins to pound.

“I think the Cleaner's coming back,” he says, turning green. The others watch him nervously.

“If worse comes to worst,” says Morningstar, “I will always love you.”

Twelve tentacles rip through space around Dranko – not through him this time, thank Goodness. Through the ragged holes in the fabric of Abernia, the others glimpse the sickening star-field of that place of other, the realm of madness.

Greenish brown and rife with slimy suckers, the tentacles wrap Dranko in a revolting embrace. One is across his nose and mouth, stifling his breath, though Dranko manages a wry thought that it beats a tentacle through the eye. The Voice – that timeless, gurgling voice – speaks into his mind.

I have returned. What will you surrender to me?

Dranko makes a great effort to compose himself before answering. Look. All my life, the only thing I ever wanted was for people to know who I was. I'd be sitting there as a little kid, with some bully beating me up, but I knew that someday I'd be riding in a parade, and all the people who were being mean to me would have to suck it up, because I would be important. I want statues, and I want books written about me, and I want people to know who I am. The day we actually had a parade was the best day of my life.

And that's what I'm going to give up. Not the wanting... but I'll give away any hope that I'll ever be famous.


The Voice grinds in his mind. So. You are giving up your fame. Yes. Your desire for it is great. It tastes strong. It pleases me. The tentacles will sing to you. You have upheld your part of the bargain. Now, prepare yourself.

The universe ripples, adjusting to a new reality.

A tip of a tentacle slides sickeningly into the middle of Dranko's head. Something is placed in his mind. It's incomprehensible; is it a word? A picture? A concept? A set of instructions? He can't wrap his mind around it, though it's hideously awful, terrible, powerful...

He blacks out. His friends watch the tentacle retract from his head, leaving a bloody streak. The remaining tentacles unwind from Dranko's body and vanish back into their holes, leaving Dranko to fall face-first to the ground, insensate. Morningstar leaps forward to cast heal.

Dranko's eyes flutter open, and the first thing he sees is his wife, glowing. He squints.

“I'm like Eddings,” he says hoarsely. “I can see magic.” And it's true – it seems that he can now detect magic at will.

“Your eyes look okay,” says Morningstar, cradling her husband's head. “What about the rest of you? You... you still love me, right?”

Dranko smiles, though his head pounds. “I still love you. I couldn't have given that away. No, I... I gave up any possibility of me ever becoming famous.” Dranko climbs to his feet, clutching his head. “I guess I won't get my statue now,” he says sadly. “But at least I had my parade.”

The others look at him, puzzled.

“You weren't at the parade,” says Flicker. “You said you had something else important to do. We all thought it was weird at the time...”

Dranko stares. Then, in a moment of panic, he digs through his pack for the letter declaring all of the Company as Knights of the Spire Guard. He scans the paper frantically.

His name is not included.

“Dammit!” he yells. Then he writes in his name again, after the others. 'Sir Dranko Brightmirror.”

He sits down suddenly, grasping his throbbing temples. There's that something lodged in his mind. He wants desperately to know what it is, but he also knows instinctively that if he were to concentrate upon it, it would drive him irrevocably insane.

But there are other things in his head, smaller gifts left by the Cleaner. He realizes that he can open a tiny window onto his memory of the Far Realms, and use the alien insight to see things.

He tries it. His eyes bulge and his sanity loses its edge, but he sees.

“I can see everything!” he says hysterically. “I can see it all!”

And he feels like there are other things he could do, by glimpsing that hideous memory. “I feel a little odd, things are clearer now, but I can feel something squirming in my brain, I can see so much, the air moving, and I can see the colors come from magic, and I can do more! I can show you what's in my brain and push you away, and expand my perceptions of things, and there's something more, but I think I'm not ready to think about that yet, and it gave me something else, in my brain, which would destroy anyone who looked at it, so don't do it, because it's there, in my brain.”

Aravis frowns. “And it will give us some aid against our enemy?”

“Yes!” Dranko exclaims. “Maybe! Maybe yes!”

Grey Wolf casts restoration on Dranko but to no effect.

Dranko looks at Grey Wolf, a crazed look in his eyes. “You know what I think I'll do? I'll try sleeping tonight, and then I'll forget, and then I'll be better, because they say that sleep is a healing thing, and I need a healing thing. My brain hurts. Maybe from all the seeing of things.”

Morningstar is unwilling to wait that long. She bestows her protective sleep upon Dranko, and he sleeps, and for a time he forgets. And while he sleeps, she cries.

...to be continued...


* A stalwart's coin, that allows one's STR mod to be applied to Fort saves, one's CHA mod to be applied to Will saves, and one's INT mod to be applied to Reflex saves, instead of the normal ability score mods. And, yes, it has a 4-sided star on one side.
 
Last edited:

EroGaki

First Post
Wow, poor Dranko. No statues for him. :.-(

Still, I am mighty curious as to what happened to him? Some weird template? A prestige class? Spell-like abilities? I must know!!!

:eek:
 


Remove ads

Top