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NOW LIVE! Into the Woods--new character species, eerie monsters, and haunting villains to populate the woodlands of your D&D games.
(Cydra) Great Conflicts
- Thread starter the Jester
- Start date
the Jester
Legend
The Undead God
Beneath a crimson sky spiked with violet coruscations of lightning, the collective twelve arms of a pair of powerful marilith demons lift off the lid of a great sarcophagus. A puff of stale air hisses out as the seal is broken for the first time in- how long? A cloud of dust disperses out from the coffin, and a scent of old, dried herbs drifts up into the Abyssal air.
All around is bedlam, as our heroes engage the demonic force assembled around them. The mariliths slither forward, blades slashes and cutting. Two of them have spiked chains with which they deliver shattering blows. Inoke, Veil, Alcar and Gerontius engage them in melee while Sybele fires at the succubus who issued the command a moment ago. That command- ”Release the undead god!”- worries her a great deal.
Indeed it should. The succubi summon a small troop of vrocks, who immediately attack the party; but then the succubi themselves then begin to greater teleport away, leaving the vrocks to do the work.
Sternly, Horbin casts a destruction upon the lead succubus. She laughs deprecatingly, but Horbin notices that his spell penetrates her innate resistance and harms her somewhat, even if he does not slay her outright. This much, at least, he finds reassuring; she is not completely beyond them. She must be their target, he reasons.
Then he thinks of Asmodeus and smiles inwardly.
Lillamere hits Seclaidra- Surely that’s her, if she’s bossing mariliths around, the elf reasons- with a puncture, and he is pleased when it affects her. Though it doesn’t blow off a limb, it does inflict significant damage to her. An arrow from Sybele’s new quiver flies out and sinks into the flesh of Seclaidra’s pale shoulder. She gives a mocking smile and arches an eyebrow at the party as she vanishes. Horbin curses, realizing that he should have dimensionally anchored her immediately.
It is at that moment that something claws its way up from the sarcophagus- a horribly desiccated form, 13’ high, wrapped in tattered bandages. Hateful light burns in its eyes. With a contemptuous gesture, it unleashes a chain lightning that blasts throughout the party. Then it makes another gesture and Horbin feels himself shaken by a powerful spell that almost slays him outright.
The demons (other than the mariliths and vrocks) have pretty much teleported away and left the field to our heroes, the remaining demons and the undead god. Just as well, thinks Horbin wryly.
The demons are being cut down left and right. Our heroes overmatch them. But the undead god- that’s an unknown quantity. It roars out, ”I AM A GOD- BOW DOWN AND WORSHIP ME!”
Our heroes are less willing to do that than to try to defeat it. Alcar blasts it with sunbeams while Inoke rushes into melee with it. The undead god roars and smashes Alcar with a mighty fist. The Angel of Food falls back a moment, shaking his head; the blow was formidable! Sybele, Veil and Gerontius finish the last of the demons that remain in combat, and Lillamere and Horbin turn their attentions to the undead god. Inoke pounds it with all his might, knocking it down in the sarcophagus again. It starts to twitch immediately and scrabbles at the walls of its sarcophagus, trying to drag itself back out. “It’s regenerating!” Inoke cries. “Someone got some fire?”
But alas, fire does not keep it down. Alcar tries channeling a greater turning attempt, but it doesn’t seem to affect the undead deity. Our heroes hit it with a little of everything, but the undead god shows a tenacious level of regeneration. Finally, grunting with frantic effort, Inoke and Sybele muscle the lid back onto the sarcophagus, and then our heroes sit on the lid for a moment, wondering what to do about it. The sounds of pounding begin to come incessantly from within as the undead god hammers at the lid from within, but it soon becomes clear that it is sealed within, at least for now.
While Gerontius and Veil strip the valuables from the fallen mariliths, Horbin examines the sarcophagus for any indication of the nature of the power. The inscriptions on it are worn almost smooth by time, but Horbin notes a few images that he can barely make out. “I think this is some kind of god of hunger or famine,” he remarks.
“That’s awful!” cries Gerontius, appalled.
Baron Lillamere frowns. “Does anyone else see a pattern emerging here?”
“Huh?” asks Sybele.
He sighs. “This old dead god... the stuff at the Bottom of the Multiverse, with the Void Masters and Orcus... Na’Rat’s relatively recent return from obscurity... it seems like there’s something bringing a lot of old powers back to prevalence.”*
“Regardless, what are we going to do with it?” demands Horbin. “We certainly can’t just leave it here- the potential for misuse is... staggering.”
“True enough,” agrees Lillamere.
“There’s the sphere of annihilation,” suggests Inoke.
“No there isn’t,” replies Baron Lillamere. “He destroyed it.”
”Then what?” wonders Inoke.
“We could put it into the Positive Energy Plane- that’s supposed to be really bad for undead,” suggests Alcar.
“Hsst!” Inoke gestures. Over the mental link, he warns his friends, There’s an invisible succubus over there! He gestures.
“Show yourself!” cries Baron Lillamere aloud.
”Peace!” comes a voice, and a succubus fades into visibility. “I come to speak! Please, I implore you- do not blast me!”
Horbin rants, “We should blast you, demon! What do you want?”
Nervously, the demoness replies, “I come at my mistress’ bidding. She... she wishes no conflict with you. She respects your... noteworthy power and accomplishments.”
Alcar scowls at her.
“She wishes to know why you have targeted her. If you will give your guarantee of safe-conduct, she will come speak to you herself.”
Our heroes burst into an angry babble as they discuss whether to speak to the demoness they are seeking. Chakar scowls and points out that, as a demon, they can hardly expect Seclaidra to keep her side of the bargain. On the other hand, if they don’t parlay with her, she might be extremely difficult to locate again. Alcar grunts. After a few moments, the group decides to accede to the succubus’ request.
”We promise not to attack her as long as she doesn’t start anything,” Inoke vows, a warning plain in his voice. “But if she, or any of her agents, starts anything, we will finish it.”
“No duplicity,” warns Horbin.
The succubus nods. “Of course.”
“And she comes alone,” Gerontius adds.
“Never,” the demonic envoy replies, shaking her head. “She is no fool. She will bring a troop of guards, but they will not lift a hand against you unless she commands it. And she will not do that unless you attack- she is no fool, I say again. She- we all- know what you have done.” Asmodeus. The implication is clear.
Our heroes are slowly beginning to realize that, to all appearances, they have the Abyss and the Nine Hells both... intimidated. Unbelievable, thinks Horbin the MFKG Holy. Who would have ever thought that the demons and devils would be running scared from us instead of the other way around!
The party again huddles in discussion. Inoke is uncomfortable with the whole idea of negotiating a solution with a demon. “I say we strike her down,” he urges. “Failing that, make your deal and let’s get out of here. I don’t want to be a part of any kind of negotiations.” The others agree that the more complicated any deal-making gets, the more likely they are to have loopholes and bad results. Dealing with demons is a notoriously bad idea in general. However, the party does seem to have the upper hand... and if they don’t let her come to them here, what’s to stop her from coming back to release the undead god again if they seek her elsewhere, especially if they can’t think of a good way to destroy or imprison the sarcophagus? Finally, after protracted arguments, they agree to allow Seclaidra to bring her bodyguard.
And a moment later they arrive- a crowd of succubi, vrocks and mariliths. And in the lead is the most beautiful woman ever, even more beautiful, perhaps, than Estelias the Enchantress. Her delicate horns and leathery wings are the only things that spoil the effect.
Next Time: Negotiations!
*Na’Rat is a god of the ancient Peshta culture, which is extinct and predates modern humans on Pesh. Archaeological digs unearthed the first obelisk of Na’Rat about a century and a half ago. The Orcus reference refers to the mysterious goings-on at the weird fortress in the Negative Energy Plane involving the creatures called the Void Masters, who asked our heroes to try to find the wand of Orcus for them. And, of course, there’s the undead god right in the casket there.
Beneath a crimson sky spiked with violet coruscations of lightning, the collective twelve arms of a pair of powerful marilith demons lift off the lid of a great sarcophagus. A puff of stale air hisses out as the seal is broken for the first time in- how long? A cloud of dust disperses out from the coffin, and a scent of old, dried herbs drifts up into the Abyssal air.
All around is bedlam, as our heroes engage the demonic force assembled around them. The mariliths slither forward, blades slashes and cutting. Two of them have spiked chains with which they deliver shattering blows. Inoke, Veil, Alcar and Gerontius engage them in melee while Sybele fires at the succubus who issued the command a moment ago. That command- ”Release the undead god!”- worries her a great deal.
Indeed it should. The succubi summon a small troop of vrocks, who immediately attack the party; but then the succubi themselves then begin to greater teleport away, leaving the vrocks to do the work.
Sternly, Horbin casts a destruction upon the lead succubus. She laughs deprecatingly, but Horbin notices that his spell penetrates her innate resistance and harms her somewhat, even if he does not slay her outright. This much, at least, he finds reassuring; she is not completely beyond them. She must be their target, he reasons.
Then he thinks of Asmodeus and smiles inwardly.
Lillamere hits Seclaidra- Surely that’s her, if she’s bossing mariliths around, the elf reasons- with a puncture, and he is pleased when it affects her. Though it doesn’t blow off a limb, it does inflict significant damage to her. An arrow from Sybele’s new quiver flies out and sinks into the flesh of Seclaidra’s pale shoulder. She gives a mocking smile and arches an eyebrow at the party as she vanishes. Horbin curses, realizing that he should have dimensionally anchored her immediately.
It is at that moment that something claws its way up from the sarcophagus- a horribly desiccated form, 13’ high, wrapped in tattered bandages. Hateful light burns in its eyes. With a contemptuous gesture, it unleashes a chain lightning that blasts throughout the party. Then it makes another gesture and Horbin feels himself shaken by a powerful spell that almost slays him outright.
The demons (other than the mariliths and vrocks) have pretty much teleported away and left the field to our heroes, the remaining demons and the undead god. Just as well, thinks Horbin wryly.
The demons are being cut down left and right. Our heroes overmatch them. But the undead god- that’s an unknown quantity. It roars out, ”I AM A GOD- BOW DOWN AND WORSHIP ME!”
Our heroes are less willing to do that than to try to defeat it. Alcar blasts it with sunbeams while Inoke rushes into melee with it. The undead god roars and smashes Alcar with a mighty fist. The Angel of Food falls back a moment, shaking his head; the blow was formidable! Sybele, Veil and Gerontius finish the last of the demons that remain in combat, and Lillamere and Horbin turn their attentions to the undead god. Inoke pounds it with all his might, knocking it down in the sarcophagus again. It starts to twitch immediately and scrabbles at the walls of its sarcophagus, trying to drag itself back out. “It’s regenerating!” Inoke cries. “Someone got some fire?”
But alas, fire does not keep it down. Alcar tries channeling a greater turning attempt, but it doesn’t seem to affect the undead deity. Our heroes hit it with a little of everything, but the undead god shows a tenacious level of regeneration. Finally, grunting with frantic effort, Inoke and Sybele muscle the lid back onto the sarcophagus, and then our heroes sit on the lid for a moment, wondering what to do about it. The sounds of pounding begin to come incessantly from within as the undead god hammers at the lid from within, but it soon becomes clear that it is sealed within, at least for now.
While Gerontius and Veil strip the valuables from the fallen mariliths, Horbin examines the sarcophagus for any indication of the nature of the power. The inscriptions on it are worn almost smooth by time, but Horbin notes a few images that he can barely make out. “I think this is some kind of god of hunger or famine,” he remarks.
“That’s awful!” cries Gerontius, appalled.
Baron Lillamere frowns. “Does anyone else see a pattern emerging here?”
“Huh?” asks Sybele.
He sighs. “This old dead god... the stuff at the Bottom of the Multiverse, with the Void Masters and Orcus... Na’Rat’s relatively recent return from obscurity... it seems like there’s something bringing a lot of old powers back to prevalence.”*
“Regardless, what are we going to do with it?” demands Horbin. “We certainly can’t just leave it here- the potential for misuse is... staggering.”
“True enough,” agrees Lillamere.
“There’s the sphere of annihilation,” suggests Inoke.
“No there isn’t,” replies Baron Lillamere. “He destroyed it.”
”Then what?” wonders Inoke.
“We could put it into the Positive Energy Plane- that’s supposed to be really bad for undead,” suggests Alcar.
“Hsst!” Inoke gestures. Over the mental link, he warns his friends, There’s an invisible succubus over there! He gestures.
“Show yourself!” cries Baron Lillamere aloud.
”Peace!” comes a voice, and a succubus fades into visibility. “I come to speak! Please, I implore you- do not blast me!”
Horbin rants, “We should blast you, demon! What do you want?”
Nervously, the demoness replies, “I come at my mistress’ bidding. She... she wishes no conflict with you. She respects your... noteworthy power and accomplishments.”
Alcar scowls at her.
“She wishes to know why you have targeted her. If you will give your guarantee of safe-conduct, she will come speak to you herself.”
Our heroes burst into an angry babble as they discuss whether to speak to the demoness they are seeking. Chakar scowls and points out that, as a demon, they can hardly expect Seclaidra to keep her side of the bargain. On the other hand, if they don’t parlay with her, she might be extremely difficult to locate again. Alcar grunts. After a few moments, the group decides to accede to the succubus’ request.
”We promise not to attack her as long as she doesn’t start anything,” Inoke vows, a warning plain in his voice. “But if she, or any of her agents, starts anything, we will finish it.”
“No duplicity,” warns Horbin.
The succubus nods. “Of course.”
“And she comes alone,” Gerontius adds.
“Never,” the demonic envoy replies, shaking her head. “She is no fool. She will bring a troop of guards, but they will not lift a hand against you unless she commands it. And she will not do that unless you attack- she is no fool, I say again. She- we all- know what you have done.” Asmodeus. The implication is clear.
Our heroes are slowly beginning to realize that, to all appearances, they have the Abyss and the Nine Hells both... intimidated. Unbelievable, thinks Horbin the MFKG Holy. Who would have ever thought that the demons and devils would be running scared from us instead of the other way around!
The party again huddles in discussion. Inoke is uncomfortable with the whole idea of negotiating a solution with a demon. “I say we strike her down,” he urges. “Failing that, make your deal and let’s get out of here. I don’t want to be a part of any kind of negotiations.” The others agree that the more complicated any deal-making gets, the more likely they are to have loopholes and bad results. Dealing with demons is a notoriously bad idea in general. However, the party does seem to have the upper hand... and if they don’t let her come to them here, what’s to stop her from coming back to release the undead god again if they seek her elsewhere, especially if they can’t think of a good way to destroy or imprison the sarcophagus? Finally, after protracted arguments, they agree to allow Seclaidra to bring her bodyguard.
And a moment later they arrive- a crowd of succubi, vrocks and mariliths. And in the lead is the most beautiful woman ever, even more beautiful, perhaps, than Estelias the Enchantress. Her delicate horns and leathery wings are the only things that spoil the effect.
Next Time: Negotiations!
*Na’Rat is a god of the ancient Peshta culture, which is extinct and predates modern humans on Pesh. Archaeological digs unearthed the first obelisk of Na’Rat about a century and a half ago. The Orcus reference refers to the mysterious goings-on at the weird fortress in the Negative Energy Plane involving the creatures called the Void Masters, who asked our heroes to try to find the wand of Orcus for them. And, of course, there’s the undead god right in the casket there.
the Jester
Legend
Negotiations with a Demon
The scene is surreal. Our heroes, including an angel, stand on the rocky ground of the Abyss, jagged violet lightning playing with a hiss in the sky. Opposite them are a small horde of demons, and leading them is the demoness our heroes have been seeking. At last: Seclaidra, known as the Perplexing Bitch.
And she has come to talk.
”What is it you want?” she asks politely.
“The only thing we want from you,” Alcar barks, and then he visibly asserts control over himself, “is for you to come back to the Light.” He smiles and adds, “Here- have some pie. Perhaps it will help you to find you way.” With a prayer, he creates food and drink, holding a slice of delicious berry pie out to Seclaidra.
”Why thank you,” she replies, and takes the pie. “I do not think I will walk in the Light, alas; but I appreciate the offer.” She takes a bite. “And the pie,” she adds with a twinkle. She chews, sighs, swallows. “Delicious,” she comments, and then: “Perhaps I can offer you something in return, Angel of Food.” She gestures and one of her succubi attendants walks forward and takes his arm. “This is Zythla,” she announces. “She is yours.”
“What!” cries Alcar. “I do not want a demon! Let loose of me!” he adds, as she begins running her fingers over his chest. He turns away sternly. “I refuse your gift!”
“Come now, Alcar,” Seclaidra purrs. “How better to turn her back to the Light? Is anyone really beyond hope, even a demon?” Zythla gives her best pout to Alcar.
“I don’t know about this,” cautions Lillamere. “I don’t know if we need-”
“All right,” Alcar states firmly. “I will try to turn her to the Light! And I will succeed!”
“You do have all the time you need, after all,” Seclaidra says gently.
Can we just please get this over with? Inoke pleads over the link. I don’t want to be a party to any deal with a demon.
“What do you want?” demands Chakar.
“What do you want?” counters the demoness. “It is because of you that I came here. You came to attack me. Why is that?”
“You have been tampering with Cydra,” Horbin states firmly. “You deceived Dexter himself. You have deceived us, if I’m not mistaken. You must be stopped.”
She considers him. “What if I offer to stay physically out of your region of Cydra for 200 years?”
“What do you mean by ‘region’?” demands Sybele.
“The Near-Forinthian Region,” Seclaidra meanwhile replies. “From Dorhaus to Bordis and from Dorla to Tirchond.”
“No. That’s not enough.” Inoke has let himself be drawn into the conversation against his better judgment. “She’ll just act through agents. Besides, whatever deal we make, she’s just going to break as soon as it’s expedient. She’s a demon. We can’t trust her.” He wants, very badly, to charge; but the party offered their guarantee of safety to the demon. We’re going to have to fight her anyway sooner or later, he predicts dourly through the telepathic bond. Let’s just get this over with and leave, or make your damn deal and let’s go.
“You must have no contact, direct or indirect, with anyone on Cydra,” demands Horbin.
Seclaidra snorts. “I will not abandon my followers,” she retorts. “Is not fidelity a virtue?” She studies the cleric’s face. “Would you force me to sin even more? How about this: I will not personally visit Cydra for 500 years; nor will I send any demons or agents to Dorhaus for that time.”
“That’s nothing,” scoffs Baron Lillamere. “How old are you, thousands of years? More?”
“Much more.” Seclaidra smiles and studies the angel Alcar. “I predate your Galador,” she says softly.
“What!” Alcar cries disbelievingly.
She chuckles. “Yes- I come from before. I know the Master of Darkhold.”
The reference is lost on none of our heroes. Though not all of them have been to Darkhold, they have all heard Lester’s tales of it. Though Lester’s telling is always somewhat inchoate, apparently Darkhold is its own plane (?) or demi-plane (?) or something, but it contains (or contained?) all of Cydra. Apparently the entirety of the multiverse was created as a sort of simulation by a powerful entity that had fled a previous universe that had been devoured by a dark and powerful entity called Tharizdun. It was this entity that empowered Felenga, the Dark One, and Fuligin, who destroyed all civilization and nearly all non-evil life on Dorhaus.
Lester has regaled the party many times with the story of going back in time via Darkhold, back to the ashes of the previous universe, and thence back further to acquire the necessary components to create a new Nature to replace the one devoured by Tharizdun and make Cydra real. It all seems bizarre and sort of ontological to our heroes, but they know enough to put a few things together.
For one, they have to wonder if she might be another agent of Tharizdun. This suddenly puts the negotiations in a different light.
“Is the Master of Darkhold your enemy?” asks Horbin, knowing the Master is opposed to the agents of the dark god that ate the previous multiverse.*
“No,” she replies. She seems genuinely surprised at the question.
“An ally, then?”
“At times.”
The party debates among themselves for a time, then renews the debate over terms with Seclaidra. They go back and forth, seeking terms agreeable to all of them. The whole time, Inoke is increasingly unhappy. Gerontius even suggests they sleep on it.
Finally, Seclaidra sighs. “It seems we cannot come to an agreement.” She raises a hand and indicates one direction. “My castle is called the Hall of the Back Silk. It is twelve miles in that direction.” She vanishes, and her entourage follows her a moment later.
“Does that mean that the deal is off?” Inoke grimaces.
The party debates an immediate assault on Seclaidra’s castle, but they have already expended a considerable number of spells. If they’re to fight a demon lord, it would be best to start off fresh. The party determines to rest a night first, the next day, the party has an intervention for the succubus. All day long they exhort goodness and morality at her, reciting passages from the Galadron and other holy writings. Alcar and Horbin argue theology with her, trying to demonstrate that it is in her best interest to turn to the Light, to soar above into the Heavens instead of plummeting back into the Abyss.
She is a demon, of course; but in a way that works to their advantage. Her innate sense of self-interest is pricked by the points the angel and the cleric make concerning her eventual fate. She laughs inwardly at first at their morality tales, but the tales ring true. In the end, being good is best for one’s own self.
Zythla the succubus has an epiphany. She sees the Light. She remains in Gorel, praying and meditating while the others move on.
Before they leave, the party discusses their next course of action. “We need to go attack her now,” insists Horbin. “I have to deal with her, one way or the other.”
“What about that undead god?” Inoke looks at the others steadily. “I think we have to do something about that thing.”
“Maybe we should go back to the Eyebrary and see what we can learn about places to imprison things,” suggests Gerontius.
“We should try Carceri,” suggests Wankerman.
“What?” Gerontius looks to his cohort.
”Carceri,” Wankerman repeats. “It’s a plane of imprisonment. It’s hard to find a way out of there- it doesn’t let go, it holds on to you pretty much forever.”
“Well, we wouldn’t want to go there, then,” Horbin replies.
“No, but maybe we could open a gate in and push the sarcophagus through,” suggests Inoke.
First they wind walk to the town of Shorult in order that Alcar can donate to the orphanage in town. Then they plane shift to Olympus where they superior teleport to the nearest portal to Sigil, seeking a new and different way in. They find themselves in the midst of a party of partying folk called the bacchae. It turns out that in order to go through the portal, they must first debauch themselves, as befits Olympus, and so by the time the portal will activate for them they are drunk.
Then they stagger through the portal to Sigil, Inoke leading the way.
Next Time: One of one angel vs. devil match!
*As a side note, this is how my old campaign world ended, after a good 10-12 years of intense gaming in it that covered thousands of years of game time. Never let it be said that I’m afraid to let things progress to their logical conclusion...
The scene is surreal. Our heroes, including an angel, stand on the rocky ground of the Abyss, jagged violet lightning playing with a hiss in the sky. Opposite them are a small horde of demons, and leading them is the demoness our heroes have been seeking. At last: Seclaidra, known as the Perplexing Bitch.
And she has come to talk.
”What is it you want?” she asks politely.
“The only thing we want from you,” Alcar barks, and then he visibly asserts control over himself, “is for you to come back to the Light.” He smiles and adds, “Here- have some pie. Perhaps it will help you to find you way.” With a prayer, he creates food and drink, holding a slice of delicious berry pie out to Seclaidra.
”Why thank you,” she replies, and takes the pie. “I do not think I will walk in the Light, alas; but I appreciate the offer.” She takes a bite. “And the pie,” she adds with a twinkle. She chews, sighs, swallows. “Delicious,” she comments, and then: “Perhaps I can offer you something in return, Angel of Food.” She gestures and one of her succubi attendants walks forward and takes his arm. “This is Zythla,” she announces. “She is yours.”
“What!” cries Alcar. “I do not want a demon! Let loose of me!” he adds, as she begins running her fingers over his chest. He turns away sternly. “I refuse your gift!”
“Come now, Alcar,” Seclaidra purrs. “How better to turn her back to the Light? Is anyone really beyond hope, even a demon?” Zythla gives her best pout to Alcar.
“I don’t know about this,” cautions Lillamere. “I don’t know if we need-”
“All right,” Alcar states firmly. “I will try to turn her to the Light! And I will succeed!”
“You do have all the time you need, after all,” Seclaidra says gently.
Can we just please get this over with? Inoke pleads over the link. I don’t want to be a party to any deal with a demon.
“What do you want?” demands Chakar.
“What do you want?” counters the demoness. “It is because of you that I came here. You came to attack me. Why is that?”
“You have been tampering with Cydra,” Horbin states firmly. “You deceived Dexter himself. You have deceived us, if I’m not mistaken. You must be stopped.”
She considers him. “What if I offer to stay physically out of your region of Cydra for 200 years?”
“What do you mean by ‘region’?” demands Sybele.
“The Near-Forinthian Region,” Seclaidra meanwhile replies. “From Dorhaus to Bordis and from Dorla to Tirchond.”
“No. That’s not enough.” Inoke has let himself be drawn into the conversation against his better judgment. “She’ll just act through agents. Besides, whatever deal we make, she’s just going to break as soon as it’s expedient. She’s a demon. We can’t trust her.” He wants, very badly, to charge; but the party offered their guarantee of safety to the demon. We’re going to have to fight her anyway sooner or later, he predicts dourly through the telepathic bond. Let’s just get this over with and leave, or make your damn deal and let’s go.
“You must have no contact, direct or indirect, with anyone on Cydra,” demands Horbin.
Seclaidra snorts. “I will not abandon my followers,” she retorts. “Is not fidelity a virtue?” She studies the cleric’s face. “Would you force me to sin even more? How about this: I will not personally visit Cydra for 500 years; nor will I send any demons or agents to Dorhaus for that time.”
“That’s nothing,” scoffs Baron Lillamere. “How old are you, thousands of years? More?”
“Much more.” Seclaidra smiles and studies the angel Alcar. “I predate your Galador,” she says softly.
“What!” Alcar cries disbelievingly.
She chuckles. “Yes- I come from before. I know the Master of Darkhold.”
The reference is lost on none of our heroes. Though not all of them have been to Darkhold, they have all heard Lester’s tales of it. Though Lester’s telling is always somewhat inchoate, apparently Darkhold is its own plane (?) or demi-plane (?) or something, but it contains (or contained?) all of Cydra. Apparently the entirety of the multiverse was created as a sort of simulation by a powerful entity that had fled a previous universe that had been devoured by a dark and powerful entity called Tharizdun. It was this entity that empowered Felenga, the Dark One, and Fuligin, who destroyed all civilization and nearly all non-evil life on Dorhaus.
Lester has regaled the party many times with the story of going back in time via Darkhold, back to the ashes of the previous universe, and thence back further to acquire the necessary components to create a new Nature to replace the one devoured by Tharizdun and make Cydra real. It all seems bizarre and sort of ontological to our heroes, but they know enough to put a few things together.
For one, they have to wonder if she might be another agent of Tharizdun. This suddenly puts the negotiations in a different light.
“Is the Master of Darkhold your enemy?” asks Horbin, knowing the Master is opposed to the agents of the dark god that ate the previous multiverse.*
“No,” she replies. She seems genuinely surprised at the question.
“An ally, then?”
“At times.”
The party debates among themselves for a time, then renews the debate over terms with Seclaidra. They go back and forth, seeking terms agreeable to all of them. The whole time, Inoke is increasingly unhappy. Gerontius even suggests they sleep on it.
Finally, Seclaidra sighs. “It seems we cannot come to an agreement.” She raises a hand and indicates one direction. “My castle is called the Hall of the Back Silk. It is twelve miles in that direction.” She vanishes, and her entourage follows her a moment later.
“Does that mean that the deal is off?” Inoke grimaces.
The party debates an immediate assault on Seclaidra’s castle, but they have already expended a considerable number of spells. If they’re to fight a demon lord, it would be best to start off fresh. The party determines to rest a night first, the next day, the party has an intervention for the succubus. All day long they exhort goodness and morality at her, reciting passages from the Galadron and other holy writings. Alcar and Horbin argue theology with her, trying to demonstrate that it is in her best interest to turn to the Light, to soar above into the Heavens instead of plummeting back into the Abyss.
She is a demon, of course; but in a way that works to their advantage. Her innate sense of self-interest is pricked by the points the angel and the cleric make concerning her eventual fate. She laughs inwardly at first at their morality tales, but the tales ring true. In the end, being good is best for one’s own self.
Zythla the succubus has an epiphany. She sees the Light. She remains in Gorel, praying and meditating while the others move on.
Before they leave, the party discusses their next course of action. “We need to go attack her now,” insists Horbin. “I have to deal with her, one way or the other.”
“What about that undead god?” Inoke looks at the others steadily. “I think we have to do something about that thing.”
“Maybe we should go back to the Eyebrary and see what we can learn about places to imprison things,” suggests Gerontius.
“We should try Carceri,” suggests Wankerman.
“What?” Gerontius looks to his cohort.
”Carceri,” Wankerman repeats. “It’s a plane of imprisonment. It’s hard to find a way out of there- it doesn’t let go, it holds on to you pretty much forever.”
“Well, we wouldn’t want to go there, then,” Horbin replies.
“No, but maybe we could open a gate in and push the sarcophagus through,” suggests Inoke.
First they wind walk to the town of Shorult in order that Alcar can donate to the orphanage in town. Then they plane shift to Olympus where they superior teleport to the nearest portal to Sigil, seeking a new and different way in. They find themselves in the midst of a party of partying folk called the bacchae. It turns out that in order to go through the portal, they must first debauch themselves, as befits Olympus, and so by the time the portal will activate for them they are drunk.
Then they stagger through the portal to Sigil, Inoke leading the way.
Next Time: One of one angel vs. devil match!
*As a side note, this is how my old campaign world ended, after a good 10-12 years of intense gaming in it that covered thousands of years of game time. Never let it be said that I’m afraid to let things progress to their logical conclusion...
Cheiromancer
Adventurer
Yay! Another update!
And what is it with succubi and conversion, anyways?
And what is it with succubi and conversion, anyways?
the Jester
Legend
I let them convert her by appealing to her better nature and showing her the theological consequences of staying evil (and by making something like a DC 50 or 60 Knowledge (religion) check).
I had originally dangled the succubus offer strictly for the sake of temptation. Needless to say I was more than surprised when Alcar took her. He's actually going to take her as his cohort now (!).
I had originally dangled the succubus offer strictly for the sake of temptation. Needless to say I was more than surprised when Alcar took her. He's actually going to take her as his cohort now (!).
Cheiromancer
Adventurer
Do you have a template for a "risen demon"? Or do you just change the alignment, but keep all the subtypes and abilities?
the Jester
Legend
Cheiromancer said:
I've always known that I would need a template eventually.
I figure, mostly, it will change the alignment-based abilities. I haven't yet created it. As to Zyltha, I haven't yet statted her up, I've been thinking pretty heavily about what to do with her. She needs to be prolly ECL 17 (per Alcar's leadership score), so she has room for a number of class levels on top of 'risen succubus'.
I was thinking that it would be interesting to give her levels in fiend of corruption, then apply the risen template and make her a 'temptress of good' kind of figure.
Any cool ideas?
Cheiromancer
Adventurer
This is what I would do for a "risen fiend:"
I think fiend of possession would also be a good choice for Zyltha. It makes sense for a succubus, and a redeemed succubus could be an "inspiring spirit" for someone; giving a bonus to items, or a +4 bonus to a soul they "ride." Charm and suggestion would aid the "inspiring spirit" role because the succubus can give evil beings the experience of doing good and avoiding evil. They wouldn't be fully responsible for these actions, since magical compulsion would be involved, but they could decide they like them (especially with some diplomacy checks to build on them).
A fiend of possession could inhabit evil items (or the items of evil creatures) and curse them; this will weaken them and make them more likely to see the error of their path.
Still, I don't think a redeemed succubus would be quite on the side of the angels, yet. She might be Chaotic Good, but she wouldn't yet have the [good] subtype. Some of her abilities and tactics might be a bit short of the purity of a true celestial. She might even lapse to CN actions at times.
Think of ex-vengeance demon Anya in Buffy: the Vampire Slayer. Not evil, but not quite an angel, either.
- Remove the [evil] subtype.
- Natural and wielded weapons no longer count as evil (this follows from the previous item)
- Remove /good from the DR. (The succubus now has DR 10/cold iron)
- Since this is an improvement to her DR, add iron vulnerability: Cold Iron does +50% damage.
- Change the home plane to the Astral (for purposes of Banishment and so on).
- Use of an evil racial ability imposes a 24 hour negative level (only the succubus energy drain feature is affected, I think)
[edit] Nope. Energy Drain is not evil! [/edit] - Cosmetic changes. I would think a fey/nymphlike form rather than an angelic one. Butterfly wings instead of her previous bat wings or feathered wings. Or maybe no wings at all.
I think fiend of possession would also be a good choice for Zyltha. It makes sense for a succubus, and a redeemed succubus could be an "inspiring spirit" for someone; giving a bonus to items, or a +4 bonus to a soul they "ride." Charm and suggestion would aid the "inspiring spirit" role because the succubus can give evil beings the experience of doing good and avoiding evil. They wouldn't be fully responsible for these actions, since magical compulsion would be involved, but they could decide they like them (especially with some diplomacy checks to build on them).
A fiend of possession could inhabit evil items (or the items of evil creatures) and curse them; this will weaken them and make them more likely to see the error of their path.
Still, I don't think a redeemed succubus would be quite on the side of the angels, yet. She might be Chaotic Good, but she wouldn't yet have the [good] subtype. Some of her abilities and tactics might be a bit short of the purity of a true celestial. She might even lapse to CN actions at times.
Think of ex-vengeance demon Anya in Buffy: the Vampire Slayer. Not evil, but not quite an angel, either.
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Greybar
No Trouble at All
I think keeping her only moved to CN also has good plot implications, particularly in the context of the War of Ethics. I like the negative level for using evil abilities - in fact I'd love to see the situation where the party *needs* her to use an evil racial ability to get something done. The party has a great moral-quandry nature already to work with, too.