WotBS Bonus Time's Burning Sky

[VicsHacienda]

I spit blood onto the snow. The cold blasts froze my teeth and I'd bitten my tongue. We grab some valuables, leave the rogue Elves to their fate, and travel on.

Forty-One and the Souls of the Lost​

The next day we arrive at a low hill with a palisade. The Temple of Echoed Souls. Two stairways rise forty feet to a shelf. Iron bells line the stairs. I scan the ground for signs of traffic. Old tracks, nothing recent. I look up at the cliff at the temple built along its sides. Osnald looks for traps on the stairs.

The iron bells have religious icons etched onto them, but no apparent language. Signs of Lugh, god of arts, travel and commerce?

As we ascend, the bells begin to ring on their own. Fafnir continues tramping up the stairs, as I hop onto Osnald's broom. From up in the air I think the Lugh iconography is covering something else, something older. More bells ring.

We alight on the shelf before two great doors of wood and brass. I listen with the help of owl's wisdom from Fafnir. We pull the doors open.

Within is a building, ringed by a circular passage stretching to the west and east. Doors line either side. A mirror stands before us, reflecting everything before it as with true seeing. As we enter, five faintly glowing circles are seen, and a man in robes appears in the mirror. He speaks slowly, his voice echoing strangely.

"I cannot hold his power back for long, but you stand at the edge of peril. Forty One controls the temple now, and will destroy you if you enter."

"And who are you, then?" I ask.

"I am Haathon. I was the Keeper of this place until Forty One came."

"So he is your enemy," Fafnir says. "What is his weakness? We will stop him."

"You should know he is cruel, and will turn his wildness upon you. But the ritual of the Trial is older than he, so I and my masters will make it happen. Should you pass the Trials and defeat him, you can craft your soul to your desires. First is the Trial of the Bell. Not all dangers can be defeated with physical might. Second is the Trial of the Offering: a sinister and righteous path awaits you. Third is the Self: your past will return to you, and you must find within you what you seek. Your companions' strength is your own.

"Forty One will seek to taint it. The Temple gives you the power to tap its souls, and you may try it, but beware: you may become entangled. Face the mirror and will yourself through the glass. Be true to yourselves. What you bring with you is all you will have."

So we need to practice soul tapping? Face ourselves? Damned mystical dung. Apparently we can communicate silently with each other and temporarily use each others' strengths to bolster what we need, perhaps even cast spells.

We decide to explore the leftward doors first.

One: a simple cot and desk, upon which sits a candle, flint, and steel. Two contains the same, except the desk holds an empty clay flower vase. The third has a folded game mat with a grid. The fourth has a golden nugget on the desk. We take these items, expecting a meaning to emerge.

To the right, the first room has a pomegranate. The second has nothing on the desk except a bowl. The third has a recorder or flute. The last has a bottom half of an hourglass without sand.

Monk meditation junk. It doesn't seem like we combine the items, and we don't recognize any symbolism. I recall that pomegranates can represent life.

Mystical Trials Three​

The old monk's image flickers and fades. The doors to the temple slam shut with a boom, and in the meager light coming through the cracks under the doors, we see a new figure reflected in the mirror: strong and muscular, his expression violently annoyed, someone who will commit the basest crime merely to end the noise.

"You expect something dramatic, but I will merely kill you. Your souls are not even of interest to me. Come inside already."

“Oh, ye can expect something dramatic when we come in there,” I mutter.

We gather on the five glowing points and face the mirror. Among us we sense a unity of purpose, and we will the trials to begin. The world vanishes, replaced with a long-gone past.

Our contemplation of the items has granted us insight. Fafnir's gold nugget is earth, and gives him resistance to damage. The flower vase represents death: I have advantage against magic and 41's attempts to tap into me. I think that’s appropriate given my recent fears. The candle is of course fire, making Trevor immune to fire. Viggo took the game, which is the symbol for space, granting him the ability to innately cast misty step… which he can already do. Osnald's flute is air, and it lets him fly… which he can already do.

We enter the mirror. We are in the icy streets of Gate Pass, the sky lit with the horrible glare of magical fire. Trevor, Fafnir, Osnald, and I recognize them, this day. We flee blindly as buildings collapse. Looking up we see the source of this primal dread: a red dragon that opens its maw. White-hot fire emanates from its maw.

A bright tone sounds and the illusion vanishes. We find ourselves in a small room with a vaulted ceiling, a door opposite. An iron bell hangs above us. Mirrors cluster the walls. The eastern wall looks bricked up with a keyhole in its center.

I stride forward and listen. My footsteps reverberate loudly, overly so, enough to cause pain in our ears. I see the lines of a pressure plate before the door.

Viggo shakes his head of the pain, and misty steps across. Osnald flies over to see about disarming the pressure plate, and does so with silent panache.

Fafnir grunts and looks at the bricked wall and stays put. Trevor soul-taps Viggo's misty step and appears next to the wizard. "Lords of light! Praise the gods! This is incredible naughty word!"

 

[VicsHacienda]

Chambers of Destiny, Fire and Water, Monk and Wizard Shite

Osnald tiptoes to the door, making no noise. The door slides silently into the wall. Beyond stand two oval mirrors, one tinted blue, one red. A message is carved into the wall: Speak your name and be divided / To paths sinister and righteous. A sacrifice of blood / is the key to your salvation.

Fafnir borrows a misty step and moves to the mirrors. He considers his trinket, the gold nugget, states his name, and the rightward mirror glows. He steps in and vanishes.

Trevor advances with the candle. "Trevor fuckin' Strathmore." The rightward way leads him through.

I motion Viggo and Osnald to go before me. Viggo likewise goes to the right, after brandishing the game.

Osnald brings forth the flute, and the left way glows. He swallows and enters.

I grimace, and hold the flower pot, representing death. "Avenisti Nock." The right mirror glows. I try to enter the left, so as not to leave Osnald alone, but it won't let me through. "naughty word."

Stepping through, the silver glass does not reflect our weapons and armor. Instead, it shatters, revealing a warm afternoon with the scent of baking bread and countryside. A grand sprawling city lies before us. We have no physical bodies, but are observers, watching a tiny halfling boy. He dances, playing a charming street tune for wealthy merchants passing. The halfling glances to the side where the thieves' guild, his found family, sneaks through the crowd, lifting purses. An ugly note sounds, and a hand descends on the smallest girl in the crew. A huge guard has grabbed her, and a club descends. But a shadow appears: a man in black points at the halfling and whispers: "Sing." Desperate to protect his sister, magic courses from the halfling boy's throat. The guard's sneer melts into empathy, and he lets the girl slip safely away. The man in black steps to the boy and places a hand on his shoulder. Then his features warp and run like paint: blue on one side, red on the other. "A sacrifice of blood is the key to your salvation." The stones beneath our feet give way, and we enter a new place.

Finding myself alongside my other companions, we stand in a fiery place. Huge pillars of stone spiral upward, each consecutive pillar rising higher. In the floor's center is the top hemisphere of a red orb, inside which lies a silver sword. A misshapen creature floats above, a horrible combination of faces and limbs and parts, moaning in a strangely beautiful chorus.

Fafnir casts his telekinetic mage hand to try to grab the sword. It becomes stuck in the orb. He then leaps from the starting stone onto mine, then onto the one beyond. I leap past him onto step four and look up at the hideous creature suspended above. Its chorus wails, and necromantic energy in the form of a blight washes across me, staggering me.

Trevor gazes to the left and sees more, as if able to see through dimensions: where Osnald seems to be, in a watery place. Floating overhead is a willow tree with amber on its trunk. A celestial being, the same we'd encountered in the tree within the Fire Forest, is present. The water rises, quickly, and Osnald keeps above it on his broom. Apparently the chambers overlap, and those close enough can see the other side.

Trevor turns back. He taps misty step and leaps upward to the second highest pillar, near the creature. He then draws forth the wrath of the wild with its unnerving aura. The twisted creature writhes, but ignores the effect.

Viggo gazes almost longingly up at the creature. "I love it. I want that. I want to name it Cronenberg." He hurls a mind sliver at it, testing its abilities.

In the other room, Osnald sees us, but must deal with his own environment. He approaches the deva, who looks confused and asks him his name.

"Osnald of the Quell, and to be honest, I have no idea where we are. But if I can get to that amber in the center, I can perhaps fit it into that hole, and we can escape." He moves forward, his dancing lights following.

Fafnir leaps upward to the pillar I stand upon, and casts guiding bolt at the creature, lighting it up.

"Thanks, brother," I say, and raise my bow. I send a bursting arrow that detonates in its hide, and follow with another, which Trevor turns to fire.

One of its five bodies dies. Bloodied, the monster suddenly flies closer. Trevor reacts with a whip crack that tears at the creature's flesh. Each of the heads wails, rippling the air between us. Trevor, Fafnir, and I are all buffeted by sound. "You will lose the trial and join us!" it howls.

Back in Osnald's sphere, the deva says, "I don't see how to get in."

"We need to make a blood sacrifice, I believe," Osnald says. The deva looks suspicious. "I'm not saying someone needs to die on an altar! Let's start with a finger."

Trevor moves to the smallest pillar with his unnerving aura, and this time the creature recoils from him. He follows with hunter's mark and a whip strike. He saps its strength. Another body dies. Trevor surges and whips again with a distracting strike. The entire creature shudders and looks back, screaming at the dark stag-shaped creature that has tormented it. The voices die, and the entire mass plummets. The globe surrounding the sword vanishes, and the blade hovers above the lava. Great splashes of fire erupt as the creature dissolves in the molten stone.

Fafnir lunges the mage hand forward and grabs the sword. Viggo misty steps forward, desperately examining the creature before it disappears entirely.

Trevor reels, having suddenly gained the ability to innately cast harm in the next room.

Osnald sees the monster's death and Viggo appear next to it, but keeps his attention on the rising water. He slices his finger and places it on the amber. No effect. "Any ideas?" he asks the deva.

"I see that you have cut yourself. I hope no one needs to die, but if you died, you could not go through the door," says Angel Obvious.

"Would you be willing to do the same?"

The deva hesitates. Osnald throws his most charming grin. The celestial smiles, and cuts his finger, but also to no avail.

"Oh!" Osnald plays his lute with his bloodied hand and sings, seeing if that works.

On our side, Fafnir brings the sword closer to the next pillar, and leaps across to it. I misty step to Viggo's pillar and can now see Osnald's scene.

The wizard mutters, suspecting that if two heroes touch, they could both use their reactions to switch rooms. "Someone could go over there and kill the deva," he says. "If that would even work."

"What if we switched with the deva?" I ask. "If that guardian is removed, would its key work?"

"No," is the answer. "The deva can't even see us."

The deva says to Osnald, "If your theory is correct, and your objective is to get through the door, I will slay you, get the amber, and take you through it. Perhaps this will free both of us, and your friends can bring you back."

Osnald relays this to us, and agrees, not wanting to hurt a deva and doubtful that he even could.

"But only you can cast revivify," Fafnir points out. "What if I switch with you, the deva kills me, and you bring me back? I do have a scroll, though."

"Can I kill you and revivify you?" Osnald asks the deva. It shakes its head. "Then I say yes," the bard says, suppressing a shudder.
Osnald Dies So That Osnald Can Live

Fafnir places the sword into the keyhole, and our portal opens. He leaps through. Trevor misty steps to my pillar and exits.

"Viggo, yer not gonna make one of these, are ye?" I ask, looking at the bubbling remains of the creature.

"Yep," he says. "You should go first so you can misty step through." I do so.

In Osnald's scene, he inhales, waiting for death.

“So someone does need to die on an altar. You are brave, small one.” The deva picks him up and embraces him, and quickly snaps the halfling's neck.

The deva enters with the halfling in its arms, and Osnald gasps awake, already returned to life. "You have a friend for life, now," it says and vanishes.

Having sacrificed himself, Osnald gains the ability to heal once.

 

[VicsHacienda]

Some Real Foes That Aren't Illusions​

We enter a huge spare vault, tall and wide with a door opposite. The cold air smells of ozone and old stone. The walls blur, softening into golden light, and we see ourselves, not as strangers who meet under the skies of Gate Pass, but fully realized as The Quell. Fafnir stands as an unyielding icon of Nuada. Osnald, weaving charismatic words to charm the impossible. Viggo weaves mighty magics. Trevor, whip and blade in hand like a whirlwind. We are not just a squad, but a fellowship of

heroes.

The light turns a bruised iron. Standing before us is another fellowship, a dark mirror to our own. Inquisitor Etienna stands in dark jointed armor, her face concealed by an alabaster mask. Karedan the Red Knight grips a jagged greatsword, eyes darting in mistrust. A towering ironclad inquisitorial null-golem stands behind, humming with anti-magic power. Above flies Princess Shalosha, her cloak billowing as her eyes gleam with a hidden agenda. There is no trust in their ranks: divided loyalties.

She glares at her cohorts. "Light is law. Law is obedient. Slay the traitors and claim the Torch!"

The vision shatters. The empty room returns. The heavy bronze door opens with a boom, and the very quartet we saw appears, accompanied by another inquisitor, a warrior, a mage, a skeleton, and a massive white bear.

Well, at least we're not fighting ourselves exactly, but I wonder if the odds could be better.

Osnald suddenly drops a synaptic static spell over most of the enemies. Etienna and the other inquisitor react with some ability, attempting to suppress the spell, but Osnald's arcane power is too strong. They reel from his spell. The golem is unaffected by psychic energy and doesn't even move. The skeleton shatters. The mage and the warror wince. The bear roars, bloodied. The halfling then grants bardic inspiration to Trevor.

Nice work, Osnald.

I step forward before Viggo and cause an arrow shaft to sprout from the chest of the mage. With the help of Nuada, another appears in his gut, and he slumps.

Trevor dashes forward and slays the bear with a heavy stroke of the Aquiline Heart across its legs. It topples hard. His shortsword and scimitar slash at the inquisitor. The whip snaps again, holding the inquisitor in place.

Viggo casts booster shot on me, my bow glows, and I grin.

The null-golem launches a fiery burst at Osnald and Fafnir, which they dodge, then lumbers across the room to Fafnir.

Inquisitor Etienna gathers herself and summons a fire storm around each of us, which Viggo barely counters. The other inquisitor brings forth a wall of fire, searing across the room, even through the null-golem. It flares right before my face, though my dragonscale armor protects me from the worst of it.

Fafnir runs right through the wall, letting the flames wash over him. The null-golem slams him as he passes, almost knocking the half-orc off his feet. But Fafnir casts celestial fanfare, bringing a blaring chorus of trumpets. The sound throughout the vault is deafening. The Red Knight grunts. Etienna, being evil, is struck by the full brunt of it, and casts her rebuke magic ability, redirecting the spell away from her. The other inquisitor raises a hand to his face, blinded and deafened, as is the warrior.

Shalosha floats above, staring at Trevor. She winks at him, then lets fall with longsword attacks... all against the Red Knight, who glances at her in surprise.

Thank goodness! I was worried I would have to strike her down.

Karedan responds with his battleaxe against the elven princess, his wounds healing as we watch. The warrior runs across to strike at Trevor with his greatsword.

Osnald, staying low, cannot see past the wall of fire but can see the golem. He flies upward and over the wall, his Bigby's hand appearing and grasping.

I vanish from sight under the nature's veil and dash to the end of the fiery wall. Taking in the scene and figuring out who's a threat, I settle on the inquisitor who cast the wall of fire and send an arrow deeply into his torso, the booster shot slamming him backward to crack against the wall. The wall of fire winks out. I turn to Inquisitor Etienna, wrapped up tightly in Bigby's grasping hand, and send a shaft into her forehead. She sags in death, only the Hand holding her upright.

We aren't very good at capturing people. But they appeared here during the temple trials, and it feels almost as if they weren't really here. Still bothers me a bit, though.

A moment later, the room begins to dissolve, replaced with the towering trees of the Fire Forest, by the lake. The trees are physical obstacles to the Song. From the treeline bursts a flaming stag, its antlers swiping at Anariel. The two enemies fade, but our foes are here with us, as is Shalosha, but we remain immersed in a fiery wood. Great waves of flame sweep across the room. They wash over me, the dragonscale armor protecting me, but I worry about the unprotected.

Riding the moment despite its strangeness, Trevor whips at the greatsword-wielding warrior, then the Living Blade and Balisiong strike down the man, driving through his breastplate and bringing forth his innards.

Viggo steps away from a burning tree and hurls a ray of frost at the golem.

And Then There Were Archons​

Suddenly the temple's magic reacts to the violence. Blinding light and brimstone reveal a bevy of angelic figures, two with blades dripping with poison, two with golden wings and their blades humming. Their eyes all lock on us.

One of the golden ones gazes on Shalosha, its menacing aura washing over the room. "Traitor! You shall die for your treachery!" And it strikes at the princess with its radiant blade.

Traitor? Against what?

An injustice archon appears above me, glowering, then rushes down and swings its venomous greatsword twice. I duck.

A justice archon next to Fafnir says, "Surrender the Torch and you may live!" Its own menacing aura throbs. It too misses its strikes.

We get told that a lot: surrender the Torch. We never seem to respond positively to it.

The second injustice archon (I'm going to call it IJA Two) floats down from the top of the room to attack me, this time hitting twice, sending ugly ripples of necrotic pain through me. "Surrender the Torch!"

"Ye think I have it, ye daft bird?" I grunt, bleeding. I'm not far from death. My hunter's mark vanishes.

The golem extends its arm across the room to punch Trevor, and yanks him over the floor to it, slamming a burning tree trunk on the way.

Fafnir resists the two menacing auras and booming blades the nearest justice archon, JA Two, slamming it hard, and hits it again on the backswing for good measure. He then steps up nearer to Shalosha, letting the opportunity attack miss.

Viggo takes advantage of the bleeding archon and casts red bloom, ripping open its wounds. Its body twists from agony.

Shalosha hits JA One, crying out, "I will not betray my friends!" Its menacing aura has made her frightened but she remains resolute. Good girl. The Red Knight takes advantage and stabs her in the back viciously, striking three times. What a dick.

The Song of the fey continues to float in the air, but as we are now in a different forest, the clashing foes are Shahalesti and Taranesti. The burning trees are replaced with cold firest. A dark woman raises her hand and many Taranesti are disintegrated. Shards rake past us. The Battle of Ycengled rages around us, and we witness the fall of the Taranesti.

Osnald releases the dead inquisitor from his Hand and sweeps it across the room to grasp the golem. Its shadowy form grips the construct. He then delivers barbed words to hammer at it.

Angered by the archon’s strikes, I vanish into the nature's veil and reposition. Appearing, I shoot a bursting arrow into IJA Two that stuns it with psychic damage. I should move and turn my attention to the other, and I can feel Fafnir’s annoyed glance at my lack of tactics, but I am blinded by fury, and send another arrow, this time blasting the archon with a cone of cold. Its wings frost over and it drops to the floor with a clang. I turn to IJA One, bleeding. "Don't naughty word touch me."

Trevor engages the grappled golem and manages to trip it, then batters it with blades. He then heals himself.

Viggo sees archons exploding and golems being abused, and, grinning at the chaos, sends a psychic bolt to strike the golem, knowing it will be ineffective but also knowing it is close enough to ricochet to every foe. IJA One is struck and stunned above me. JA One is stunned. Karedan the Red Knight is stunned.

The golem struggles, but fires an arcane cannon up at Osnald floating above, sending energy crackling over him. The Bigby's Hand vanishes as the bard shudders.

Fafnir lines up the room, closes one eye, and hurls his javelin of lightning, crossing JA One, Shalosha, Karedan, IJA One, and me. I grunt as the lightning seizes my muscles. He made a hard decision to affect friends but one, I want this to happen, and two, he’s probably mad at me. The archons are damaged and Karedan is bloodied. Fafnir then brings forth a battle cattle skull to gore at the justice archon.

Shalosha throws an irritated look down at the cleric, but puts her blade to good use, slaying the justice archon. The menacing aura is gone.

The room shifts. Half the hall changes to a huge assault on a Shahalesti city, buildings thrusting from the floor and elves warring in every space. A woman in a monk's robe nods to an inquisitor.

Viggo eyes the scene. "Tell me spirit, are these the shadows of things that must be, or are they the shadows of things that might be?"

Then a huge armored bear warrior appears in the room.