Dust off the ancient Ahnks and dusty tomes, Egyptian afterlife

Greenfield

Adventurer
Well, there was a sudden turn in fortunes in our game. The Wiz/Cleric died, and the lone front line fighter died.

For those who didn't know (or care), we run a "Round robin" game, where the DM duties pass from person to person, and where several of the characters split class in highly inefficient ways.

Also, we dropped Raise Dead and it's relatives in favor of a different mechanic for bringing back characters. We use Plane Shift, or Shadow Walk or something similar to run a side adventure where characters make a trek to the land of the dead" to bring the characters back.

Well, the Wiz/Cleric was a Priestess of Isis, the Egyptian goddess of magic. The fighter "respected all religions" but didn't have a specific deity or pantheon he worshiped into. Which means, of course, that we don't have a clue where his soul would go.

The DM who presided over the deaths admitted that he isn't prepared to run such a side adventure, so now it falls to me.

I have two main options regarding the fallen fighter: We were adventuring in the lands of the Vikings, so he may have been claimed in a territorial fashion, or he may have held a base belief from his homeland, in which case we're dealing with North Africa.

I'm tempted by both prospects, actually. North Africa would pretty much default to Egyptian, since their influence spread all throughout the region. On the other hand, Valkyries are kinda cool.

Still, I could use some help and inspiration as to what to throw at them on such a trek to the underworld.

A little (very little) research on Egyptian mythos said that the sun god Ra was the one who actually collected the souls of the dead during the day, and escorted them to the underworld when he made his passage there every night.

He had to fight his way past Apophis, the guardian serpent of Set, then take them to the Hall of Two Truths, where they would be judged. Judges and deities, 42 in number, sat there, and the person's heart was weighed against an ostrich feather by Maat, goddess of truth/justice. Pass this test and you went to the good place. Fail and you were cast to The Devourer, the crocodile god of the Nile.

The palace itself belonged to Anubis, of course, and the way was lined and guarded by jackals, the guard dogs of the afterlife.

Now that's all well and good. In our world, however, the deities themselves are "missing", engaged in a long and protracted war against forces unknown.

That means that somebody who isn't the sun god is piloting that chariot across the sky and collecting the souls. It also means that Maat and a number of the other deities are unavailable for their duties in the Palace of Two Truths.

Presume a Solar filling in for Ra. It's kind of fitting. He'll need help against Apophis, since he really isn't a match for the god himself.

For story purposes, by the way, I think this Solar will not be the first to hold this duty. Others have perished doing it.

Now, the party will be using Shadow Walk to get there. The Bard who's casting the spell is my character, and had bargained with the gate guardians before (successfully I might add. +27 on Diplomacy will do that.) To keep my character's role to a minimum, the guardians will say something like, "We remember you. You may attend, sing your songs or cast your spells, but if you speak even one word...."

And now we come to the purpose of this request: I'm looking for challenges, inspiration, things to throw at the party to make the trek a challenge, but not an insurmountable one.

The party will consist of a Ranger5/Druid6, a Wiz3/Rogue7, a Monk10/Tattooed Monk1, and a Wiz1/Rogue9. The Bard9/Sand Shaper1/Sublime Chord1 will be available for some spell support, but mostly as an NPC guide/chauffer.

So, dazzle me with your brilliance, your deviousness, your depravity and your Machiavellian scheming!
 

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Okay, I have a little more, if anyone cares.

Apophis is the great serpent that sits coiled on a sandbar in the middle of the Nile as it passes from the land of the living to the land of the dead.

He/it is usually depicted as a huge coiled snake with its head hidden. It is not, however, a god. Nor does it actually belong to Set, though he's been known to make the claim.

Apophis is older than the gods, older than time, and legend says that he will be alive long after the gods have fallen and the world is dead. He is primordial, primal, who feeds on every lie told, every deception even attempted, and he desires to devour all things. Thus, in D&D terms, he has the Swallow Whole ability, without any size limit. Anyone or anything so consumed is gone, unrecoverable by any means, banished to total nonexistence.

The section of the Nile in question is a dividing line between day and night, light and darkness. The eastern shore is the land of light and life, the world of mortal men. The western bank belongs to the night and the creatures of the night, to Set and his servants.

It is uncertain whether Apophis can reach onto either bank, though he is often described as encircling the world, rather like the Norse Midgard Serpent. The legends may be related.

Anubis was the god of the dead, and was depicted with one half of his face in shimmering gold, and the other black as obsidian. This reflected (no pun intended) the fact that he sat in judgment between the lands of life and light, and of darkness and destruction.

Souls are collected by Ra as he travels, but not immediately after death. The dead must be mummified first, either by ritual preparation or by simple dessication as an effect of being exposed to the desert.

The Egyptian afterlife transition is one of the few where "you can't take it with you" simply didn't apply. You could and you should take it with you, in their view. Common folk were buried with meals and clothes, or depictions of them at a minimum, to aid and comfort them in the next life. The rich and powerful were buried with riches, and often with servants and wives as well, to ensure that they have every comfort in their new life.

BTW: The Norse is another tradition where you are supposed to take it with you. A warrior would be dressed in full battle gear, plus food and drink for their final journey. These would be burned, either in a funerary pyre or aboard a boat that was set afire before being cast to drift with the tides.

Now for Apophis itself, I'm thinking a Colossal snake (not sure if it should be a viper or a Cobra) with a corrosive toxin. It should be able to spit/spray the toxin every D4 rounds. The toxin should do straight acid damage to armor and shields, and both Con and Charisma damage to people. I'm thinking 3 D6 per shot. The Con damage will heal on its own, eventually, but the scarring that represents the Charisma damage can only be healed by Regeneration, or some similar effect specific to the removal of scars. Note that gold is specifically immune to the corrosive effects. (Tower shields are your friend facing this bastard).

In straight combat the toxin should do the same, with a ferocious Save DC. He swallows whole on a Crit, and his damage should be properly Epic even on a normal strike.

Yeah, it's an Epic monster, one capable of standing up to a greater god, and one which specifically can't be killed, no matter what. The best you can do is hold it off until the boat(s) pass by. It should have Save bonuses in the high 20s to mid 30s at a minimum, and an AC of around 60.

And yeah, being a creature of the primal darkness it has Blindfight and BlindSense.

Now I'm going to give it a weakness: Like Cerebrus and Fenris, and like snakes of legend, it can be charmed by music played with sufficient skill, and its Will save bonus is halved v musical effects. Now the charm isn't like Charm Monster type effects, in that it will never become your friend. But it can be Fascinated, if only for so long as the music plays and nobody is foolish enough to attack it.

Similarly I'm going to give it a strength, like the Midgard Serpent: The only place where it can be hurt at all is if you strike at the head. All other wounds, no matter how severe they seem, heal within a round. It sheds the wounded skin and is fresh and new underneath. This is why it usually hides its head, and this is why its AC is so high.

So next, the Jackals of Anubis, and the challenge they pose. I'll have to look up that critter in the Epic Level Handbook, the one described as the "Mother of Wolves". CR 23, if I recall correctly. That seems like a good place to start.

Again, ideas, criticisms, plots or plans, tricks or traps, they're all welcome.
 

The fighter "respected all religions" but didn't have a specific deity or pantheon he worshiped into. Which means, of course, that we don't have a clue where his soul would go.

...

I have two main options regarding the fallen fighter: We were adventuring in the lands of the Vikings, so he may have been claimed in a territorial fashion, or he may have held a base belief from his homeland, in which case we're dealing with North Africa.

I'm tempted by both prospects, actually. North Africa would pretty much default to Egyptian, since their influence spread all throughout the region. On the other hand, Valkyries are kinda cool.

Here are some obvious, traditional choices:

a) Was the fighter roleplayed according to a clear alignment? At least if he was clearly good you could just send him to a traditional Heaven (make up a fairly standard one, or use one from a D&D setting/book), and on the contrary if he had done some significant evil and didn't make up for it you can have it sent to hell.

A journey to Heaven is in my book much harder to design than one to Hell, which is pretty straightforward: the party will have to locate where the fighter is imprisoned and make their way through battles, ambushes and possibly some bargaining.

But to Heaven? First of all, the way I see it Heaven should be much harder to get into (Hell wouldn't mind visitors, they're just calling it upon themselves if the come visit) but OTOH a non-evil party should really not want to force their way into Heaven. So the challenges of the journey will be harder to define. Furthermore, the fighter himself may not necessarily want to be retrieved.

b) How about a traditional "warrior's afterlife"? There should be a lot of material available on the web about Asgard/Ysgard both from D&D and other sources. IIRC the 3ed version from Manual of the Planes had an interesting mechanic by which no one was permanently killed there but always resurrected the next day, so while the place clearly lends itself for battles, the challenge for retrieving the dead fighter could take some unsual twist.

c) If the place where the fighter died has a good reason/history to back up for this (or if the fighter himself has), you can consider turning him into a ghost instead of being in the afterlife. However having his continue adventuring with the rest of the party may be quite challenging.
 

Re. Apophis. (aka. Apep; Apepi)

My first thoughts when I read what you're planning there is that it sounds like the only character able to contribute anything to the encounter is your (GMPC) Bard. So I'd make it a bit of descriptive text rather than an actual encounter since none of your actual players can do anything. The fact that the bard can help the divine sun barge on its course this day could be the reason the gate guards allow them to enter. (He pays for their passage with labour.)

And make the hard work either before or after that. OK, your party has been to the gate between the worlds before. Maybe they already know the dangers and think it's a cake walk. But maybe things have changed since they last came this way.

The Epic of Gilgamesh has Scorpion people that guard the end of the world. Gilgmamesh encounters them on his search for immortality (a related theme.) SO maybe Scorpion People have been set to guard the Gate because the powers that be don't like the idea of a revolving door after life.

Anyway, gotta go. Best of luck.
 

Apophis strangely reminds me of Dendar, the Night Serpent, from Forgotten Realms. A nightmare-inducing toxin on each bite, swallow whole, colossal size, the works. Maybe just take those stats and modify them slightly?


To have the other PCs contribute: who says Apophis is alone? Maybe his deal is to annihilate creation, but I could imagine creatures not really part of creation (read: the former Solars guiding the Day Chariot, who have fallen to it), may be excluded, even help Apophis in his guard duty - as undead fallen angels, with diminished power, but still good enough to stop the PCs cold if they're not fought and destroyed. The Solar, meanwhile, would have his hands full guiding the chariot, or would have trouble attacking his former brethren. So your Bard fascinates Apophis (offscreen), the Solar stands by and weeps, and the other PCs have to take on some kind of undead, serpent-ified angels. All this is on a timer - if the Bard runs out of Bardic Music (maybe spend one use each round or something to keep Apophis charmed), the party is well and truly in trouble.



Another idea: I love the image of the PCs, after lots of trouble getting there, find themselves in an empty, deserted Anubis' palace. The Gauge of Hearts is unguarded, the Devourer gone, Maat has left his scribing utensils lying on the floor (nice loot for any Wizard or Cleric happening on them), and a huge ostrich feather weighing like a ton is held in suspension next to one scale. The dead companion they're seeking to rescue sits motionless, his chest cut open, his heart still beating slowly on the divine scale, high up and well out of reach.

The only method of getting the heart is doing what is usually done here: weigh it against the feather. Of course, it will sink... and suddenly, a bunch of unholy dire jackals (who fill in for the Devourer while it's gone) run in and try to rip the dead PC to pieces. After they're fought off, the PCs still have to leave the palace, whose architecture has suddenly become much more hostile (collapsing pillars, doors first opening then smashing in their faces, holes opening up in the floor right under their feet, parts of the ceiling crashing down, maybe some statuary awakening to golem-y unlife, or maybe some of the walking dead [mummies] coming to claim the condemned...).
 

Re. Apophis. (aka. Apep; Apepi)

My first thoughts when I read what you're planning there is that it sounds like the only character able to contribute anything to the encounter is your (GMPC) Bard. So I'd make it a bit of descriptive text rather than an actual encounter since none of your actual players can do anything. The fact that the bard can help the divine sun barge on its course this day could be the reason the gate guards allow them to enter. (He pays for their passage with labour.)

And make the hard work either before or after that. OK, your party has been to the gate between the worlds before. Maybe they already know the dangers and think it's a cake walk. But maybe things have changed since they last came this way.

The Epic of Gilgamesh has Scorpion people that guard the end of the world. Gilgmamesh encounters them on his search for immortality (a related theme.) SO maybe Scorpion People have been set to guard the Gate because the powers that be don't like the idea of a revolving door after life.

Anyway, gotta go. Best of luck.
Good observation. I guess my impartiality isn't as sound as I thought.

Scene wise, the Solar will ask for anyone, living or dead, who wants to help. Each will be given a golden shield (tower) and a spear. Even if you aren't Tower Shield proficient, you can hide behind one for 100% cover. The minimum asked will be to help protect the others on the barge.

And while the PCs really won't be able to directly affect the proto-deity, they can Aid Another to the Solar, both on offense and on defense, and affect the tide of battle that way. (The maneuver is uncommon enough that I don't expect them to think of it, to be fully honest.)

So yes, the battle is largely a set scene. The Bard will play and Inspire Courage and Inspire Greatness, as a matter of form, but the outcome is largely predetermined. He may try to Fascinate, but he'll roll very badly on the Perform check (aren't DM screens wonderful? Nobody can see when the DM fudges the dice. :) )

There will be other encounters, however. A flock of vultures will come and try to steal organs from the dead (Egyptian burial rituals involve the removal of several organs as part of the mummification process, and the dead will be carrying theirs in jars.) Area effect spells will work well there, as will straight melee combat.

And, depending on which side of the river they land on, they'll either have to face the guardian jackals of Anubis on the East bank, or minions of Set on the West. And those are not, by any means, set pieces, nor is the outcome predetermined. I'm considering a Vrock demon (vulture headed, just for style) who can call forth Creeping Doom for the west bank.

BTW: I looked in the Deities and Demigods book (I only had 3.0 available), and for some reason they had Apep/Apophis listed as a red dragon. I have no idea where they got that idea from. Listed as a minor deity, he supposedly stood up to (and posed an actual threat to) Re/Ra in combat. I tossed that writeup where it belongs.
 

Okay, I thought I'd post an epilogue here, just to let the interested parties know how it all worked out:

First, I didn't run my own character in NPCdom. We have a "spare" NPC rogue that works with the party, a sort of general cohort if you will who aids us when we need his special skills. We pay him party share when we call on him for help.

His other function is to be available for someone else to run as a PC, should their character be unavailable. As in "dead".

The problem was that we had two dead characters and only one handy NPC, so the other player opted to run my Bard, instead of me doing it as an NPC.

I, of course, had to accept that he might get my character killed, and that that was okay if it happened. As a side note, when he got a look at my character's AC and hit points, his first words were, "Damn. We need to fix this guy." He was feeling very vulnerable and very mortal.

The party made a short side trip to the grove of the Druids who sent us on our current mission, to report what we'd learned, in case we didn't come back. There, conveniently, the PC of our current DM was around and able to join.

I'm going to drop into "story teller" mode here.

Our game said:
The Druids looked at the group, a disapproving frown furrowing every brow.

"So, you plan to oppose the natural order of life and death, and try to pull your companions back from the other side?", asked Olwyn, the spokesman for the group.

"Well, when you put it like that...", Penn stammered. "The fact is, we need them to finish the job you set us on."

"We asked you to help preserve the natural order here, not violate it.", the old man almost snarled. "We've overlooked your love for fire magic in our wood, and your tendency to kill anything you don't know how to deal with. This isn't the way we do things here!"

Now it was the Bard's turn to be angry. "You didn't call us here because we did things your way. If 'your way' worked, you wouldn't have had to call us here at all. No, you brought us in specifically because we don't do things your way. You brought us here to be the blunt instrument of your plans. Well guess what? We're a blunt instrument, and we're going to do this our way!"

Sylus stepped in between the two angry beings. "Master Olwyn, I'll go with them. I won't let them even try to sneak anything past the gods. So if the creators of the natural order see fit, and only if they see fit, our friends will return."

The old Druid was still unhappy, and it showed, but he realized that that sort of confrontation wasn't going to get him anywhere. Instead, he tried a different tactic.

"Well, if you're going to go, at least go prepared. Rest here for the night, so you can begin will all your powers refreshed."

Trum, listened to the words, but also to the spirit in which they were said, and didn't like what he heard. Still, the Monk saw wisdom in playing along, at least for the moment.

"Where should we make camp?", he asked, simply.

"There's a good spot near the spring that we always reserve for guests.", the old Druid said, indicating a trail nearby. "Just follow that way. It isn't far. Just follow the sound of the water,"

The group shouldered their packs and took to the trail, with Trum in the lead. As soon as they had left the grove, he whispered to the Bard, "Penn, cast your spell and take the lead, now!"

The urgency in the Monk's voice hushed all questions and they linked hands.

The winding path down to the spring began to wind in unlikely ways as Penn began his song of travel, and the woods about them grew darker with each step. Finally the way turned back on itself and began to climb, and they found themselves climbing above the mountainous landscape, leaving the oak forest behind. The new trail lead up through a formation of rocks that hadn't been there before, and through a narrow pass that opened out onto a broad plain.

The world now carried an odd illumination, directionless, and subduing all colors to shades of gray and black.

"Okay, where are we?", Sylus asked, looking around.

"We're at the edge of reality, where the world we know meets the shadow realm.", Penn explained. "If we stay on this path, walking the edge, we can cover great distances very quickly. But if we turn this way", he said, shifting his path away from that stony ridge they had topped, "we fully enter the Plane of Shadows, and from there to other realities."

"Why didn't we rest up first?", Sylus asked. "To be honest, you guys look like Hell."

"Olwyn wanted to delay us for some reason.", Trum explained. "I don't know why, but it wasn't from concern for our well being."

The Wizard Liam thought about this for a moment, then his face lit up with understanding. "Of course. Imagina followed Isis, one of the Nile gods. Their god Ra collects the souls of the fallen each day, then takes them to the underworld each night. If we'd waited over night, we'd have been too late to save her."

"Well, then that's where we're going", declared Penn, "to the underworld of the Nile."

Walking with linked hands was harder than it sounds, but in a remarkably short time they found themselves looking down onto a broad river with a huge pack of jackals on the eastern bank and a river barge that would have done a king proud.

"The entrance to their underworld is actually pretty close. It's where the day ends, at the edge of our reality.", commented Penn as he paused his step. "Which side of the river should we land on?"

Iggy clambered up on some rocks in an effort to see, and immediately declared his preference. "The west side. Better place to get the lay of the land, and there isn't a pack of hounds to tear us apart."

The others agreed with the Gnome's assessment, and they descended the winding trail back to the edge of the world that they knew.

More to follow...
 

Our Game said:
The land they found themselves on was barren and lifeless. The sand beneath their feet was black and gave off an unpleasant feel.

"I guess we're on the night side of the river.", Trum said, stepping carefully.

"Yes you are, and you aren't supposed to be here", came another voice.

They group turned as one to see a tall figure walking towards them out of the darkness. He stood half again as tall as a man and was dressed in the robes of one of the desert nomads, but his head was that of a vulture.

"You are mortals, living beings.", the nomad said, stopping ten paces away. "There are only two reasons mortals come here: Either to rob the dead as they pass, or to steal one of them away. The guardians of the river will permit neither."

"Who or what is it you guard?", asked Penn.

"Oh, I'm not a river guardian. I am the shepherd of the night, and I don't care whether you take their riches or their souls. But whatever you plan to do, do it elsewhere, for the night is the time for the dead, and you have no place here. Leave now. I will not warn you again."

Iggy saw the gleam in Penn's eye, the one he got when he saw a challenge, and the Gnome didn't like it at all. "Let's just go.", he implored.

"We won't do anything, with either their riches or their souls, not from your territory.", the Bard began. "All we want is a place to rest and prepare. We mean you no harm."

The vulture-headed being leaned forward and glared down his hooked beak at the Bard. "I have heard of you, Son of Pan. The gatekeepers warned me of your oily tongue. I make no bargain with you because there is no bargain to make. If you wish to rest here, I can arrange for that. But know that those who rest here never rise from that rest."

Then the nomad shook back his robes and spread his arms. "I am called the Shepherd of the Night. I call my flocks to my aid."

In a timeless moment, the sands around the nomad began to move, as if the ground had come to life. A chittering sound arose, and the sand began to shift, black on black, the only visible sign being a sense of motion, and the occasional glitter of starlight on something glistening.

"Bugs!", cried Iggy, dancing back from the encroaching carpet that suddenly came in from the night.

Liam prepared for battle, flames dancing across his fingers, pooling in the palms of his hands.

"Go ahead and destroy them", exhulted the Shepherd, "for all destruction feeds my lord Set, strengthening him for the battle yet to come."

Penn tossed his magical cape to Trumm. "Take Iggy and get out of here!", he shouted.

"What about you?", asked the Monk, concerned for the overconfident Bard.

"I'm right behind you.", Penn replied, calling up the magic of change. In moments he had sprouted wings and was taking to the air.

Sylus shifted forms as well, falcon wings spreading in the night sky, bearing him across the river.

Liam shifted as well, and they fled to the relative safety of the jackal pack.

The jackals had been watching, and drew back to give the fliers clear ground to land on. Trum activated the magical cape and vanished in a puff of smoke, to re-appear with his friends on the eastern shore.

The group realized that the gesture of the jackals was a back handed sort of welcome, for the creatures now ringed them, eyes and teeth gleaming in readiness.

"What is your business here, mortals?", asked one of them.

"Our business is with Anubis.", Penn declared, hoping to buy time.

"You are foreign to these waters.", said a different jackal, though its voice was eerily similar. "Your business will be with your own death god, when the time comes. Do you come to rob the dead? Or do you hope to steal one away?"

"Well, two, actually.", Penn said in as placating a way as he could manage. "But we won't do anything without the permission of the gods, so it won't be stealing."

"The passage to the underworld is not one for the living.", came that same voice again, from yet a third jackal. "We will not stop you though. That privilege belongs to another."

The group stood tense, waiting for something to begin, but it never did. Finally, Iggy spoke up, his Londinium accent oddly out of place here. "So, if'n you don't mind me askin', where are the dearly departed?"

"They come with Ra, who will be here at sunset. You may wait until then. Stay away from the water, however. The Children of Sobek await there, and will devour anyone foolish enough to bathe here."

It seemed odd, to await the sunset while standing at night's edge, but despite all the things that had happened today, their stomachs told them that it wasn't yet time for the mid day meal. And so they waited, quietly.
As a note, the Creeping Doom spell is seriously toned down from earlier editions, but it can still be scary as hell when a kazillion centipedes are heading for you. Scenes from the Mummy and Indiana Jones came to everyone's mind when those swarms began closing in.

More to come...
 

Our Game said:
"I've never really watched the sun set from this perspective", Trum declared as he watched the golden glow approach. It moved with paradoxical speed, as swift as a god who can traverse the world in a single day, and yet with that aching slowness characteristic of a sunset.

Finally the great chariot landed, and the golden light about it began to fade somewhat.

A towering being emerged from the chariot, his skin the color of aged gold, his flowing hair like a river of silver, his ornate armor gleaming perfection. Behind him stepped the spirits of the dead, collected this day as the chariot traversed the sky.

Penn and Sylus had stood in the presence of a god before, and knew full well the sheer power of their presence, the feeling of awe that came from witnessing sheer perfection. And they both knew, at once, that they weren't feeling that same sensation from the charioteer.

"That isn't Ra.", Sylus declared flatly. "Apollo stood almost three times this one's size, and he made you want to fall on your face before him. I wouldn't give this one a knee."

As the golden glow faded more they could all see clearly that this most definitely wasn't the sun god of the Nile. The right side of his face was heavily scarred, his skin flowing like melted candle wax, and his right eye was glazed over and blind. The burns extended down to his right shoulder, which was visibly withered.

"Why are there mortals here?", the charioteer asked of the jackals. "There are only two reasons that mortals ever come here, and neither is allowed. Do I feed you so well that you refused so easy a meal?"

The lead jackal bowed low before speaking. "They seek passage to the underworld, to lay petition before the gods. We thought it best to let you decide if they would be permitted."

The charioteer nodded grudging agreement, then turned to face the interlopers.

"I have no time to argue or bargain with you.", he said flatly. If you wish to talk, then board the golden barge with the others. You can face judgment as readily as any others. And who knows, you might even be of some use."

Iggy dashed up to Trum, almost frantic. "I can't find them.", he said. "There are so many, I can't find Imagina or Lex."

"Well, we don't even know if Lex will be here. We don't know his religion."

But it was troubling, for they would have expected their friends to come to them. But the people flowed past by the hundreds to board the golden barge."

"You're not Ra.", Sylus declared, this time challenging the charioteer directly.

"No. My lord is engaged in battle to the south. I am Dawnwind, one of his champions, and I have the honor of fighting in his place." Suddenly the charioteer looked very tired. "I am the fifth of us to stand in this duty, and I will be the fifth to fall in it. Perhaps tonight. I am one of the mightiest warriors of heaven, but I am not a god. I am not a match of Apophis." Then he pulled himself straight and picked up his great spear. "But I will see you through safely, if I can. I can do no less for my lord."

Then he strode towards the barge, displaying a confidence it was obvious he didn't feel. "We have many hazards to face this night before reaching the Palace of Two Truths.", he declared to all. " Those who have the courage to join me in facing them, take up the spear and shield, and stand ready."

One well dressed man stepped forward. "MY guard will be honored to fight by your side.", he declared, gesturing towards the entourage that had followed him into death.

"No,", said Dawnwind. "Each man must make this decision for themselves, not at the orders of another, for to fall in this battle is the final death. It means non-existence. Any who would face that must do so of their own will. Do you take up the shield in this duty?"

The man raised his hands in a warding gesture and backed away, yet the guards he had been offering stepped forward and took up the shields that had lined the barge. A woman also stepped forward, struggling to lift the ornate golden armaments. "I've taken care of you for twenty years.", she said in open disgust. "Why should now be any different?"

"If you fall in this, you will never see the Fields of Concordance.", Dawnwind warned again. "But if you have the courage to defend another, and we pass safely, you have my word that those Fields will be waiting for you."

The group examined the shields and spears that were there, noting that they were of the "tower" variety, with a notch in one corner to rest a spear. They were elaborately worked with the golden circlet of the sun, crafted so that an incoming blow would be directed down the rays of light depicted, and away. The surface was hammered gold and flawless, and though they were heavy, they weren't as massive as one might expect.

"How would you hold this thing?", wondered Liam, who found he could carry it only if he used both hands.

"There's a trick to it.", Sylus admitted. "But if nothing else, you can cover up with it, just use it to hide behind."

The trained warriors among the host were busy showing the less experienced how to brace the shield on the deck, and how to hold the spear in place as they did so. Some ended up with the spear simply under an arm, its butt planted somewhere behind them, the shield as a supporting brace ahead of them.

When all were ready, Dawnwind gave the order and the barge began to move.

"We will pass to the right of Apophis' sandbar, do stand at the left bulwark.", he instructed. "Hold your ground and defend those behind you, and stand ready to duck on my command."

Penn looked at the huge shield and replaced it in its rack. Approaching Dawnwind he made an offer. The conversation was hurried and furtive, but ended with Penn holding up his lyre for inspection. The commander slowly nodded his assent, a look of wonder in his eyes.

The Half Satyr took a position behind the towering commander and drew out an odd horn. Holding it backwards, he aimed the narrow end towards the deck at his feet and traced the runes on it with a finger. They glowed for a moment then faded, but when they were gone everyone on the barge could hear every shuffle of the Bard's cloven feet on the deck. He mumbled a spell, then began to play.

"Stand easy, but ready", Dawnwind called, his voice also echoing across the water.

The music of the magic lyre lifted and swirled, taking the listener along with it as it danced. It went places that no mortal music should be able to go, giving even dreams a chance to take wing.

And ahead, Apophis raised his great head and watched the Golden Barge approach. But his eyes were unfocused, and his head weaved slightly with the music as the boat drifted by.

"I don't believe it.", whispered Dawnwind, his voice amplified by the Bard's magic and carrying the length of the barge. But the music carried on in it's fanciful flight, and the river carried the barge on to safety.

Finally the song ended, and behind them they heard a roar of frustration and rage.

"We're not there yet.", Dawnwind warned, his voice now reduced to normal volume. Stand ready."
The Fascinate wasn't my idea, but I couldn't forbid the effort. If it failed Apophis would have sought out the one who had tried to ensorelled him, and he would have killed him instantly. The Bard had no shield, and would have been flat-footed, and I would have had to make a new character.

But the player rolled well, and the serpent rolled a 3. When the player suggested it I made it clear that any threat against Apophis would end the effect, so that meant no Inspire Courage song in place to fire the blood for battle. He could sing one song or the other, but couldn't have both in effect at once.

The player tried a bit of cheese in gaining bonuses, and I pointed out that if I tried that when he was DM he'd cast an Empowered Dispel BS on it in a heartbeat. Even so, he managed to bump his bonus to a +31. Apophis was at +40 on his Save (yes, I removed his weakness for music, but I also toned down my original version of him because otherwise even the deity wouldn't have been able to fight him.)

More to follow...
 
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Our Game said:
Trum and Sylus stood at the lead edge of the barge, and Penn slung his lyre so he could hold a shield once more. His knees were shaking and he realized what he had just risked, and what he had just done.

Ahead, dark shapes could be seen circling in the night sky, and long, ominous forms trailed silently beside and behind the barge.

From beneath a heavy shield, a song began, struggling to fire the spirits of, well, the spirits who inhabited the barge.

And the vultures of the night dove from the sky.

They came in long streams, one after another, splitting off slightly as they neared their targets, so as to pass on either side of whoever they had chosen to take.

Dawnwind's mighty bow sang a song of its own, while Sylus' and Trumm's weapons played accompaniment. Blood and feathers came from the flock as the arrows found their marks, but there were so many that the losses were insignificant.

Then the sky raiders struck, and Sylus was nearly thrown from his feet by the sheer savagery of the attack. Trumm also found himself bleeding from a dozen shallow wounds, slashes inflicted so quickly they were almost imperceptible.

And then a moment of quiet as the birds began to regroup.

"Mass Heal!", intoned Dawnwind, flooding the area with divine power that eased pain and knitted torn flesh. "Stay down!", he then ordered everyone. "I can't do that again, so keep your spears up and your heads down!"

And then the birds were on them again, this time swooping and diving in a mad barrage that seemed to come from all directions.

Trum and Sylus again tried to fight them off with bows and arrows, and again they were effective in killing some, but it didn't seem to lessen the fury of their attack, and soon both were covered in blood again.

Behind there was a shriek as one man was lifted clear of the barge, kicking and screaming as he was carried off.

"Grease", came the cry from under a shield somewhere, and the hapless soul slipped free of the carrion bird's grasp, to plummet the short distance back to the deck.

But the nightmare of wings, beaks and talons continued unabated, striking so swiftly that it was impossible even begin to prepare.

"We're not going to make it.", Sylus warned as he and Trum fought and bled.

"Let me try something.", Penn called out. "Wind Wall", he chanted, calling forth a barrier of swirling winds along the left side of the barge. "It won't move with us, but until we sail clear it should give us cover, at least from that direction."

And suddenly the birds striking across the deck were being tossed about as they crossed that turbulent barrier. Some few lost control and landed in the water, an act that the great crocodiles of the river appreciated.

The birds continued their assault, but now they could only strike from fore and aft.

"Can you do that again?", Trum called.

"No.", came the reply. "I have a little magic left, but I'm saving it to get us back home."

"We may not live that long!", called Sylus, struggling to stay on his feet.

"Okay, here it comes. You might want to duck.", Penn called. Then he rose up from underneath the shield he'd been using like a roof, and raised his hand. "Flaywind Burst!", he cried. Wind blasted from his hand, carrying and spreading the sand he held, blasting across the sky above the barge.

A dozen birds were suddenly stripped of both feathers and flesh by the roaring winds, and cast tumbling into the river. A larger number that were within the blast area managed to wheel away to safety, taking but the moment to form up and regroup.

"You got anything else?"

"Nope. That was the last of it. Unless you want me to help them grow a beard or something."

And the birds came again. Sylus quiver was empty, and Trum had retreated to the cover of a shield.

Then Liam suddenly had a thought, and dug frantically into his bag. He emerged with an ornate horn with wrought pewter bindings, and he began to blow.

Fog billowed out, covering the area around him, then trailing back. As he continued to blow the fog thickened and spread, obscuring more and more of the people on the barge.

"Everyone, into the fog!", Dawnwind ordered, and the people didn't have to be told twice.

The birds cried in frustration, for without a visible target they couldn't continue their diving, swooping attack. And as fierce as they were in the air, then knew that if they landed to pursue their prey, they'd be cut to ribbons.

It was over. The cries of pain and shrieks of the diving birds faded to silence, leaving only the drone of the horn.

"Why didn't you do that earlier?", Dawnwind asked, but Liam didn't answer. He was busy blowing.
I was trying to create something out of a Hitchcock film. The birds were Fiendish Giant Vultures, which I essentially based on Giant Eagles. And while they, as individuals, were only a CR 6 critter, flights of 8 working as teams each combined to an EL 12 encounter. With Fly By done as a charge, and Aid Another, half of each flight could attack at +12, total, for a D6 + 4 per hit. One hit isn't a threat to 12th level PCs. When facing the prospect of each bird striking twice (two talons) per pass, however, the damage potential stacked up frighteningly fast.

I allowed the Wind Wall to give them flank protection for three rounds, because the barge is moving at 30, and his wall was 100 feet long. That cut the number of attacks they had to deal with each round.

To determine how many birds the Flaywind Burst could target in that mess, I simply had the Bard roll a Spot check, with the Distracted penalty. Whatever result he got, that's how many he was able to line up in a single 60 foot cone. Since the birds have Evasion, it was a moderate success.

The Horn of Fog was inspired. The whole charge/aid combo comes a cropper if you can't see your target. The assault was going to last another 4 rounds before they were "past it", and they would have lost characters in that time. The horn only puts out a 10 foot cube per round, and it moves away from you at 10 feet per round, but he faced forward on a barge moving at 30, so he ended up leaving a wide area of fog trailing behind , laying cover for much of the length of the barge. (The horn user wasn't right at the front, though he was well forward.)

More to follow...
 

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