el-remmen
Moderator Emeritus
Session #94 (part i)
The Keepers of the Gate enacted their plan. Kazrack moved as if to pass through the black portal into the Light Room, and as expected the triodrone stood threateningly moving towards him.
“None may leave with out Gilbart’s leave,” It said, in its flat voice. “No leave to leave.”
The dwarf turned suddenly and bullrushed the modron, driving back into the wall as the others hurried over and grabbed up their weapons. The thing stabbed at him with a spear drawing blood.
“You may not reclaim your weapons,” the tridrone said. “You do not have leave to take or leave to leave.”
“Just run past it,” Kazrack called to the others. “It cannot hurt us… much…”
Roland of Bast hurried through the portal and was followed by Martin the Green. Bastian stepped aside and let Sergio got through first, before following himself. Ratchis and Gunthar went through, and Kazrack went through last.
The dwarf heard Martin cry out in pain as another kind of modron they had not seen before stabbed at him with a spear. The modron had a long rectangular body. It had two arms forward on the body and two backward bending legs, all of which ended in clasping hoof-like claws. It had wings springing from its side as well, but only one large eye above a black swollen mouth. Its body was the pinkish-orange flesh of the rest of its kind. (1)
This chamber seemed to be the same width and length as the others, but much like the Hell room its ceiling was only about twenty feet above them, not the great height of the earthen Audience Chamber or the Air Room that held the guest quarters. The room was brightly lit and its walls were plated with polished brass depicting intertwining suns, stars, moons, trees and other objects of the heavens and of nature. Immediately in front of the portal was the back of a flat lacquered heavy wooden screen about fifteen feet long. The Keepers of the Gate spread out around it and Gunthar drove his the Left Blade of Arofel through the attacking modron and it farted out yellow pus-like blood and collapsed.
“We shouldn’t kill those unless we have to,” Bastian frowned, but his voice never rose.
”Gods forgive us this sacrilege!” Martin moaned.
“Oh, shaddap!” Gunthar bellowed. “You have a Set-lovin’ death-face and you say I’m causing sacrilege?”
“Bastian is right,” Kazrack said. “Do not kill them. If we must fight them, we will do as we did before. Grapple or bulrush them back through a portal. If we must use weapons, attack to subdue.”
Gunthar rolled his eyes.
Roland walked over and applied minor healing on the duodrone before it bled out.
The Keepers of the Gate spread out around the screen and saw more of the chamber. A wooden screen in three sections cordoned off each corner of the chamber. The rear of each one held a statue that faced into the center of the room. (2)
On the far end of the right side of the room was a statue of a bare-breasted cat-headed woman. It was mostly made of gold, but had beautiful amber and tiger-eye adornment. The statue was atop a two-foot tall pedestal and was nearly seven feet tall itself. This was Bast.
On the closer corner of the right side of the room was a statue carved of basalt adorned with onyx. It was the jackal-headed god, Anubis, his arms open as if in supplication. One hand held an ankh and the other a crook-like scepter.
On the far side of the left of the room was the solid gold statue nearly eight feet tall of a hawk-headed man bearing a crown. Ra’s arms were folded and he held a golden crook in one hand and a flail in the other. An ankh was carved upon his crown.
Lastly, the statue on the left side and closer to them was carved of basalt. It was of a tall stooped man without an animal head, but with a great misshapen bald head. He was tall and thin and stooped and did not look regal at all, but this statue was adorned with gold, silver, platinum, and diamonds. This was Ptah.
There was a similar screen as the one they walked around on the other side of the room, obscuring what they assumed was another black portal beyond. A painting hung on it and the turned to see a painting hung on this side of the first screen as well. Two more portals led out of the room to the left and right, not covered by screens.
In the very center of the room was the most amazing sight of all. There were four tall mithral pylons that formed the four corners of a cage made of bars of light that emerged from the marble tiled floor and stopped at the stone top of the enclosure the pylons held up. The whole thing was about fifteen feet to a side, and inside of it was a marble pedestal. Atop the pedestal lay a book with a thick gold cover.
“Wow… Agh!” Martin the Green cried out in astonishment as his eyes burned from the magic present in room the moment his detect magic spell came into effect.
Another duodrone stepped into the room from the portal on the left, and Kazrack hurried over and shoved it back through. It came back and he pushed it again.
“I could use some help,” Kazrack groaned.
“Whatever. Is that solid gold?” Gunthar reached out to touch the statue of Ra.
“Touch nothing!” Ratchis cried out, moving over to slam a shoulder into the modron, driving it back out of the room. It did not return.
“This is a sacred place,” Martin said, walking over to the Neergaardian. “We should not touch anything unless we have to, and even then only in reverent fashion.”
Roland nodded.
The watch-mage saw something flash across the top of the wall in one corner over where the screen behind the statue of Bast was. When he looked again, there was nothing there. He frowned and something in the rotting patch on his face popped and was forced to dab at the rotten smelling pus that came seeping out.
“You’re disgusting,” Gunthar muttered.
“I am sorry I left you to make such a horrible decision,” Ratchis said to Kazrack solemnly as he reached down to help the dwarf to his feet.
“You have nothing to be sorry about,” Kazrack replied, quietly. “You fell and were near death yourself. We have all fallen. I am only sorry that that decision needed to be made at all.”
“So,” the dwarf turned to the others. “There are portals to the Heavens here? Or we are closer to them or something?”
Martin the Green came around the screen that was behind the statue of Ra. On the center panel within the screen was a bright gold mirror in the shape of the sun. The watch-mage cried out again. The light of it had nearly blinded him.
“Yes, I assume behind each of these screens is an object or altar keyed to a particular plane,” Martin said. “I guess this one goes to the Heavens.”
“So the one marked by my goddess’ visage must lead to the Beastlands!” Roland said, happily.
“Yes, that must be this one,” Martin the Green replied as he went around the screen by the statue of Bast still rubbing his burning eyes. The Keepers of the Gate cried out as one as great writhing dun-colored tentacles with spots of pink and green came out of the upper wall to grab the watch-mage. Whatever the thing was, its body was beyond the wall, which seemed to just blink out existence where the tentacles emerged from it. “Help! The wall is eating me!”
“Finally! Something to kill!” Gunthar ran over, sword drawn, but in a moment one of the tentacles grabbed him about the leg and pulled him up as well. Roland roared as he transformed into his black panther shape. Bastian slammed his warhammer at a tentacle, but its rubbery consistency did not seem to give, but the thing yanked Gunthar higher up out of reach. As Ratchis and Kazrack hustled to come around the other side of the screen to help Martin, the watch-mage tried to cast alter self to slip out of the thing’s grip. But the tentacle squeezed and the Martin cried out, losing his concentration on the spell. However, in the next moment, the mantle of green and black flame that sometimes enveloped the watch-mage burst into being around him, a spasm went up the two tentacles that had grabbed him, and they let go. Martin the Green dropped the floor with a thud.
“Oh my!” Sergio pulled a handkerchief from his breast pocket and covered his mouth when he saw the vile tentacles writhing through the wall and the malevolent green and black flame licking around Martin. “I don’t know about this…” The self-professed diplomat withdrew.
Kazrack twisted past the fop and hacked at the tentacles with his halberd, Ratchis right beside him with his greatsword, as Martin crawled away from the melee.
“What kind of foul necromancy is it you are using, sir mage?” Sergio asked Martin as the watch-mage stood and turned to take in the tactical situation. “I cannot say that I condone such things.”
Sergio withdrew from Martin and made his way around the paneled screen behind the statue of Anubis towards the melee again.
“Bast! Though who art as graceful as thou art powerful! Your humble servant asks that you smite this aberration from beyond the planes!” Roland called in his human voice, though he was still in panther form. However, the holy energy seemed to dispense too quickly and he though perhaps the thing had resisted his spell.
Gunthar managed to push off one of the two tentacles that held him, but the two that had been holding Martin whipped onto him and he grunted with pain as the thing pulled him back towards the wall.
“Lentus!” Martin cast, but the thing resisted that spell as well. (3)
A song on his lips, Sergio leapt forward and touched Gunthar on his dangling foot. He withdrew again. (4)
Gunthar grunted again and finally was able to break free from the four tentacles that held him leaping to the floor with a curse and spitting blood. Kazrack was whipped across the face by one of the tentacles, but slapped it away with the blade of his pole-axe before it could grasp him.
“Pull back!” Ratchis called, withdrawing. “It may not be able to reach us in the center of the room.”
The Keepers of the Gate obeyed their companion and the tentacled-thing pulled itself back through the wall. There was a flash across that corner of the wall, as if the side of the room were disappearing, revealing a speckled blue darkness beyond that exuded a disorienting sensation. And then the wall was back.
“It seems the veils between the planes are deteriorating even here in Hurgun’s domain,” Martin said. He sat down, clutching at his ribs and grimacing as he coughed blood. The mantle of green and black flame around him disappeared leaving a sulfurous smell behind, and Roland walked over to heal him.
“That seems like a handy spell,” Bastian commented to the watch-mage.
“It is the work of the Book of Black Circles,” Martin replied.
“Well you used it at just the right time or else those tentacle things might have pulled you through to wherever in the Hells it comes from,” Bastian said.
“I did not use it,” Martin said. “It wants to be used. It wants to help and be convenient to use, but the cost for this convenience is my soul, or perhaps my very identity.”
“Oh, then you shouldn’t use it then,” Bastian replied quietly.
“What is that place?” Gunthar asked, point to one of the paintings on this side of the screen that by the portal the party came through. It was a shining silver city upon a cloud that sat on a mountain. The sky around it was starless and dark blue.
“I believe that is the heavens of the gods of the Northern Reaches,” Martin answered.
“What are we even doing here?” Ratchis complained, but before anyone could answer two more duodrones came through one of the black portals without a screen before it.
“Return to your quarters. You do not have leave to wander,” the two duodrones said, alternating syllables. They moved forward, spears in hand, but suddenly the tentactled monster came through the wall and snatched up the rear modron, crushing it easily and then ripping off limbs and wings with the other psuedopods.
“Can we kill these things yet?” Gunthar asked, looking around for his sword. He saw it on the floor under where the tentacles dragged the poor modron through the wall.
“No! We are not killing them, jack-ass!” Ratchis roared his reply. “Just push them away.”
“Well, the monster is killing them, so who’ll know the difference?” Gunthar asked. He saw the half-orc glare are at him again and tense up. “Fine. You take care of it, Snuffles. I am here to rescue my brother and find some neat stuff to bring out of here, not to push freaks around.”
Ratchis growled and drove his shoulder into the duodrone’s side, shoving it towards the black portal the party came through. Kazrack cam up along side his companion and slapped the flat of his halberd into the modron, but it seemed to do no good, even when he jabbed it repeatedly with the butt end of the haft. (5) The dudodrone stabbed at Ratchis with its spear, drawing blood, but finally the two priests were able to shove it through the portal. It tried to come back through and they shoved it again.
“Please ruh-ruh-ruh-ruh,” the modron’s voice seemed stuck somehow as it tried to come through once more, but once more it was pushed back.
Meanwhile, Bastian walked over to Sergio who was slowly bringing his hand between the bars of light in the center of the chamber. “Is it safe to pass through?”
Sergio jumped a little and drew back his hand quickly letting out a low breath and hanging his head back.
“I was planning on trying to not touch it and have to find out,” Sergio replied, a snide tone creeping into his voice.
“We should go back,” Ratchis announced, getting up from being crouched and ready to deal with the duodrone if it returned. He left Kazrack to stand there as he walked over to the others. “There is nothing to accomplish here and we are not ready to deal with the demoness or whatever else has to be dealt with. We should return to the Air Room and rest, just as the modrons insist.”
Kazrack nodded his agreement.
“We should not second guess our plans,” Roland said. “We should travel on through the gate to the Beastlands. Chochokpi said we would while we were here, and here we are…”
“I saw Chochokpi, or at least some kind of tree depicted in wood carving I saw before that thing grabbed hold of me,” Martin said, point to the screen by the statue of Bast. “I think if we did go through that gate the Tree would not be far.”
“And what are we going to do once we are there?” asked Kazrack.
“We could gain the aid of other servants of my goddess, powerful servants,” Roland replied. “Anyway, you need to go see Chochokpi.”
“We can’t go anywhere,” Ratchis said. “We have no assurances that the Beastlands will not be as dangerous, if not more so, than this place. I know little of Bast’s realm, but what I do know is that those who walk on two legs are not always welcome.”
“But as you can see, I have four legs,” Roland said. He was still in panther-form, so he rolled over onto his back playfully and stretched, waving his four paws in the air.
“You know we can see your tally-wacker when you do that, right?” Gunthar snickered.
“I will not go to the Beastlands unless we do not see Chochokpi,” Kazrack said, hefting his magical halberd, Beáth-agh. “We are not prepared to give up our gifts of yet. We will need this fine weapon to destroy the demoness.”
Roland rolled back up to his feet and let out a yelp of frustration. “I think you hold on too tightly to these gifts. They may have already served their purpose, or perhaps we are meant to sacrifice them and achieve our victory by our own means. Did not Chochokpi say that we had not yet accomplished our mission when we gave him the items to give back to us.” (6)
“If this place is dangerous to walk on two legs, and the rest of us are unwilling to part with our gifts as of yet, why don’t you go and find this aid on your own?” Kazrack suggested.
Everyone contemplated the suggestion silently for a moment.
“Roland,” Martin began. “I trust your instincts in this. If you think that going to the Beastlands will aid our cause, then perhaps you should go…alone…”
Roland pawed over to the statue of Bast and sat before it. “Great Queen Bast. I sit before your visage in thy favored form and beg your aid.” The Bastite laid down before the statue and bared his neck. “I come in proper obeisance and ask that you do not turn me away when I enter your realm and seek your aid directly…”
The Bastite continued to pray in quiet contemplation. Ratchis laid down on the ground and rested his head on his pack and tried to catch some winks while they waited. Kazrack kept his eyes open, watching the portals for more modrons, occasionally eyeing the corner of the room where the shimmer of non-existence would wash over it now and again.
“Hey! There something missing over here!” Gunthar’s voice came from behind the screen adorned with the statue of Anubis. “I think this is a clue. Stuff like this is always a clue of some kind in the stories…”
Martin walked around the screen and was awed by what he saw there. There was a black iron gate with nasty spines along the top behind which was a depth of utter blackness. It was cold behind this screen. Gunthar pointed to a peg on another panel of the screen and the outline of dust below it.
“Hmmm, it looks to have been a horn some sort,” Martin said. “And guessing from the amount of dust around it I’d say it was taken relatively recently. Then again, with the fluctuations in time that are occurring…”
“Fluctuations in time?” asked Bastian coming around the screen as well.
“Yes, well I was thinking about how from what Gilbart and the Lady Aureliana said, that time has flowed in two ways here in the Maze since whatever happened happened.”
“What do you mean time has flowed two ways?” Sergio asked, walking over as he slicked down his mustache with a wet finger.
“I mean, that if we assume that the ‘closing’ of Hurgun’s Maze of the legend coincides with his being trapped by the time elemental, which was soon after you were trapped in the Mirror,” Martin turned to the bard. “It means that you have been trapped in here for about one hundred and fifty years, but Lady Aureliana said it felt like perhaps four to her.”
”Could that not just be a feature of the outlook of her kind if they are long-lived?” Bastian asked. “I mean, yes it has been over a hundred years, but her description of what it felt like doesn’t mean that time is acting screwy. It could be that Hurgun was allowing guests from other realms into his Maze after closing the Maze from Aquerra.”
“One hundred and fifty years?” Sergio’s eyes were wide open as was his mouth.
“I am afraid so,” Martin replied. “Everyone you know is likely dead.”
Sergio Fontane stood up straight, his body becoming rigid for a moment, and then he slowly relaxed. “Well, I guess I won’t have to worry about that little incident in Zootsburg anymore!” He laughed and walked away.
Bastian and Martin looked at each other and shrugged.
“So this is the gate to the realm of Anubis?” Gunthar asked, point to the iron gate.
“Yes.”
“So, this is the way I need to go to rescue Jeremy,” Gunthar said.
“I don’t recommend it,” Martin said. “Anubis does not take kindly to living visitors in the realm of the dead.”
“But here we are and you all said you’d help me get Jeremy back if I helped you with this thing, and here I am helping,” Gunthar reasoned.
“We cannot afford to make a side trek into the realm of Anubis,” Martin said. “At least not until we have fixed the situation with the Maze.”
“Oh, but the pussycat can go traipsing off to La-la land, right?” Gunthar spat. “I see how it is. I guess I’ll have to go alone.”
“But… but we still need your help,” Martin stammered. “If you go through there you might never come back. You probably won’t ever come back…”
“Don’t worry your ugly rotten little head,” Gunthar smirked. “I am a man of virtue. I’ll keep my word and help your sorry asses, but when this thing is done, Hurgun or no Hurgun, I’m going through that gate, and any of you bleedin’ filth that has a conscience will come with me.”
The Neergaardian walked off.
“Wow, he really loved his brother, huh?” Bastian said.
“He never even knew him,” Martin replied.
”I am going,” Roland announced soon after.
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Notes:
(1) This is a duodrone. [sblock]
[/sblock]
(2) Look within the sblock to see the Light Room’s layout and how some of the action occurred: [sblock]
[/sblock]
(3) DM’s Note: This creature, a dharculus from the 3.0 Manual of the Planes has SR 20.
(4) Sergio cast Freedom of Movement.
(5) DM’s Note: Modrons are immune to subdual damage.
(6) See Session # 84
The Keepers of the Gate enacted their plan. Kazrack moved as if to pass through the black portal into the Light Room, and as expected the triodrone stood threateningly moving towards him.
“None may leave with out Gilbart’s leave,” It said, in its flat voice. “No leave to leave.”
The dwarf turned suddenly and bullrushed the modron, driving back into the wall as the others hurried over and grabbed up their weapons. The thing stabbed at him with a spear drawing blood.
“You may not reclaim your weapons,” the tridrone said. “You do not have leave to take or leave to leave.”
“Just run past it,” Kazrack called to the others. “It cannot hurt us… much…”
Roland of Bast hurried through the portal and was followed by Martin the Green. Bastian stepped aside and let Sergio got through first, before following himself. Ratchis and Gunthar went through, and Kazrack went through last.
The dwarf heard Martin cry out in pain as another kind of modron they had not seen before stabbed at him with a spear. The modron had a long rectangular body. It had two arms forward on the body and two backward bending legs, all of which ended in clasping hoof-like claws. It had wings springing from its side as well, but only one large eye above a black swollen mouth. Its body was the pinkish-orange flesh of the rest of its kind. (1)
This chamber seemed to be the same width and length as the others, but much like the Hell room its ceiling was only about twenty feet above them, not the great height of the earthen Audience Chamber or the Air Room that held the guest quarters. The room was brightly lit and its walls were plated with polished brass depicting intertwining suns, stars, moons, trees and other objects of the heavens and of nature. Immediately in front of the portal was the back of a flat lacquered heavy wooden screen about fifteen feet long. The Keepers of the Gate spread out around it and Gunthar drove his the Left Blade of Arofel through the attacking modron and it farted out yellow pus-like blood and collapsed.
“We shouldn’t kill those unless we have to,” Bastian frowned, but his voice never rose.
”Gods forgive us this sacrilege!” Martin moaned.
“Oh, shaddap!” Gunthar bellowed. “You have a Set-lovin’ death-face and you say I’m causing sacrilege?”
“Bastian is right,” Kazrack said. “Do not kill them. If we must fight them, we will do as we did before. Grapple or bulrush them back through a portal. If we must use weapons, attack to subdue.”
Gunthar rolled his eyes.
Roland walked over and applied minor healing on the duodrone before it bled out.
The Keepers of the Gate spread out around the screen and saw more of the chamber. A wooden screen in three sections cordoned off each corner of the chamber. The rear of each one held a statue that faced into the center of the room. (2)
On the far end of the right side of the room was a statue of a bare-breasted cat-headed woman. It was mostly made of gold, but had beautiful amber and tiger-eye adornment. The statue was atop a two-foot tall pedestal and was nearly seven feet tall itself. This was Bast.
On the closer corner of the right side of the room was a statue carved of basalt adorned with onyx. It was the jackal-headed god, Anubis, his arms open as if in supplication. One hand held an ankh and the other a crook-like scepter.
On the far side of the left of the room was the solid gold statue nearly eight feet tall of a hawk-headed man bearing a crown. Ra’s arms were folded and he held a golden crook in one hand and a flail in the other. An ankh was carved upon his crown.
Lastly, the statue on the left side and closer to them was carved of basalt. It was of a tall stooped man without an animal head, but with a great misshapen bald head. He was tall and thin and stooped and did not look regal at all, but this statue was adorned with gold, silver, platinum, and diamonds. This was Ptah.
There was a similar screen as the one they walked around on the other side of the room, obscuring what they assumed was another black portal beyond. A painting hung on it and the turned to see a painting hung on this side of the first screen as well. Two more portals led out of the room to the left and right, not covered by screens.
In the very center of the room was the most amazing sight of all. There were four tall mithral pylons that formed the four corners of a cage made of bars of light that emerged from the marble tiled floor and stopped at the stone top of the enclosure the pylons held up. The whole thing was about fifteen feet to a side, and inside of it was a marble pedestal. Atop the pedestal lay a book with a thick gold cover.
“Wow… Agh!” Martin the Green cried out in astonishment as his eyes burned from the magic present in room the moment his detect magic spell came into effect.
Another duodrone stepped into the room from the portal on the left, and Kazrack hurried over and shoved it back through. It came back and he pushed it again.
“I could use some help,” Kazrack groaned.
“Whatever. Is that solid gold?” Gunthar reached out to touch the statue of Ra.
“Touch nothing!” Ratchis cried out, moving over to slam a shoulder into the modron, driving it back out of the room. It did not return.
“This is a sacred place,” Martin said, walking over to the Neergaardian. “We should not touch anything unless we have to, and even then only in reverent fashion.”
Roland nodded.
The watch-mage saw something flash across the top of the wall in one corner over where the screen behind the statue of Bast was. When he looked again, there was nothing there. He frowned and something in the rotting patch on his face popped and was forced to dab at the rotten smelling pus that came seeping out.
“You’re disgusting,” Gunthar muttered.
“I am sorry I left you to make such a horrible decision,” Ratchis said to Kazrack solemnly as he reached down to help the dwarf to his feet.
“You have nothing to be sorry about,” Kazrack replied, quietly. “You fell and were near death yourself. We have all fallen. I am only sorry that that decision needed to be made at all.”
“So,” the dwarf turned to the others. “There are portals to the Heavens here? Or we are closer to them or something?”
Martin the Green came around the screen that was behind the statue of Ra. On the center panel within the screen was a bright gold mirror in the shape of the sun. The watch-mage cried out again. The light of it had nearly blinded him.
“Yes, I assume behind each of these screens is an object or altar keyed to a particular plane,” Martin said. “I guess this one goes to the Heavens.”
“So the one marked by my goddess’ visage must lead to the Beastlands!” Roland said, happily.
“Yes, that must be this one,” Martin the Green replied as he went around the screen by the statue of Bast still rubbing his burning eyes. The Keepers of the Gate cried out as one as great writhing dun-colored tentacles with spots of pink and green came out of the upper wall to grab the watch-mage. Whatever the thing was, its body was beyond the wall, which seemed to just blink out existence where the tentacles emerged from it. “Help! The wall is eating me!”
“Finally! Something to kill!” Gunthar ran over, sword drawn, but in a moment one of the tentacles grabbed him about the leg and pulled him up as well. Roland roared as he transformed into his black panther shape. Bastian slammed his warhammer at a tentacle, but its rubbery consistency did not seem to give, but the thing yanked Gunthar higher up out of reach. As Ratchis and Kazrack hustled to come around the other side of the screen to help Martin, the watch-mage tried to cast alter self to slip out of the thing’s grip. But the tentacle squeezed and the Martin cried out, losing his concentration on the spell. However, in the next moment, the mantle of green and black flame that sometimes enveloped the watch-mage burst into being around him, a spasm went up the two tentacles that had grabbed him, and they let go. Martin the Green dropped the floor with a thud.
“Oh my!” Sergio pulled a handkerchief from his breast pocket and covered his mouth when he saw the vile tentacles writhing through the wall and the malevolent green and black flame licking around Martin. “I don’t know about this…” The self-professed diplomat withdrew.
Kazrack twisted past the fop and hacked at the tentacles with his halberd, Ratchis right beside him with his greatsword, as Martin crawled away from the melee.
“What kind of foul necromancy is it you are using, sir mage?” Sergio asked Martin as the watch-mage stood and turned to take in the tactical situation. “I cannot say that I condone such things.”
Sergio withdrew from Martin and made his way around the paneled screen behind the statue of Anubis towards the melee again.
“Bast! Though who art as graceful as thou art powerful! Your humble servant asks that you smite this aberration from beyond the planes!” Roland called in his human voice, though he was still in panther form. However, the holy energy seemed to dispense too quickly and he though perhaps the thing had resisted his spell.
Gunthar managed to push off one of the two tentacles that held him, but the two that had been holding Martin whipped onto him and he grunted with pain as the thing pulled him back towards the wall.
“Lentus!” Martin cast, but the thing resisted that spell as well. (3)
A song on his lips, Sergio leapt forward and touched Gunthar on his dangling foot. He withdrew again. (4)
Gunthar grunted again and finally was able to break free from the four tentacles that held him leaping to the floor with a curse and spitting blood. Kazrack was whipped across the face by one of the tentacles, but slapped it away with the blade of his pole-axe before it could grasp him.
“Pull back!” Ratchis called, withdrawing. “It may not be able to reach us in the center of the room.”
The Keepers of the Gate obeyed their companion and the tentacled-thing pulled itself back through the wall. There was a flash across that corner of the wall, as if the side of the room were disappearing, revealing a speckled blue darkness beyond that exuded a disorienting sensation. And then the wall was back.
“It seems the veils between the planes are deteriorating even here in Hurgun’s domain,” Martin said. He sat down, clutching at his ribs and grimacing as he coughed blood. The mantle of green and black flame around him disappeared leaving a sulfurous smell behind, and Roland walked over to heal him.
“That seems like a handy spell,” Bastian commented to the watch-mage.
“It is the work of the Book of Black Circles,” Martin replied.
“Well you used it at just the right time or else those tentacle things might have pulled you through to wherever in the Hells it comes from,” Bastian said.
“I did not use it,” Martin said. “It wants to be used. It wants to help and be convenient to use, but the cost for this convenience is my soul, or perhaps my very identity.”
“Oh, then you shouldn’t use it then,” Bastian replied quietly.
“What is that place?” Gunthar asked, point to one of the paintings on this side of the screen that by the portal the party came through. It was a shining silver city upon a cloud that sat on a mountain. The sky around it was starless and dark blue.
“I believe that is the heavens of the gods of the Northern Reaches,” Martin answered.
“What are we even doing here?” Ratchis complained, but before anyone could answer two more duodrones came through one of the black portals without a screen before it.
“Return to your quarters. You do not have leave to wander,” the two duodrones said, alternating syllables. They moved forward, spears in hand, but suddenly the tentactled monster came through the wall and snatched up the rear modron, crushing it easily and then ripping off limbs and wings with the other psuedopods.
“Can we kill these things yet?” Gunthar asked, looking around for his sword. He saw it on the floor under where the tentacles dragged the poor modron through the wall.
“No! We are not killing them, jack-ass!” Ratchis roared his reply. “Just push them away.”
“Well, the monster is killing them, so who’ll know the difference?” Gunthar asked. He saw the half-orc glare are at him again and tense up. “Fine. You take care of it, Snuffles. I am here to rescue my brother and find some neat stuff to bring out of here, not to push freaks around.”
Ratchis growled and drove his shoulder into the duodrone’s side, shoving it towards the black portal the party came through. Kazrack cam up along side his companion and slapped the flat of his halberd into the modron, but it seemed to do no good, even when he jabbed it repeatedly with the butt end of the haft. (5) The dudodrone stabbed at Ratchis with its spear, drawing blood, but finally the two priests were able to shove it through the portal. It tried to come back through and they shoved it again.
“Please ruh-ruh-ruh-ruh,” the modron’s voice seemed stuck somehow as it tried to come through once more, but once more it was pushed back.
Meanwhile, Bastian walked over to Sergio who was slowly bringing his hand between the bars of light in the center of the chamber. “Is it safe to pass through?”
Sergio jumped a little and drew back his hand quickly letting out a low breath and hanging his head back.
“I was planning on trying to not touch it and have to find out,” Sergio replied, a snide tone creeping into his voice.
“We should go back,” Ratchis announced, getting up from being crouched and ready to deal with the duodrone if it returned. He left Kazrack to stand there as he walked over to the others. “There is nothing to accomplish here and we are not ready to deal with the demoness or whatever else has to be dealt with. We should return to the Air Room and rest, just as the modrons insist.”
Kazrack nodded his agreement.
“We should not second guess our plans,” Roland said. “We should travel on through the gate to the Beastlands. Chochokpi said we would while we were here, and here we are…”
“I saw Chochokpi, or at least some kind of tree depicted in wood carving I saw before that thing grabbed hold of me,” Martin said, point to the screen by the statue of Bast. “I think if we did go through that gate the Tree would not be far.”
“And what are we going to do once we are there?” asked Kazrack.
“We could gain the aid of other servants of my goddess, powerful servants,” Roland replied. “Anyway, you need to go see Chochokpi.”
“We can’t go anywhere,” Ratchis said. “We have no assurances that the Beastlands will not be as dangerous, if not more so, than this place. I know little of Bast’s realm, but what I do know is that those who walk on two legs are not always welcome.”
“But as you can see, I have four legs,” Roland said. He was still in panther-form, so he rolled over onto his back playfully and stretched, waving his four paws in the air.
“You know we can see your tally-wacker when you do that, right?” Gunthar snickered.
“I will not go to the Beastlands unless we do not see Chochokpi,” Kazrack said, hefting his magical halberd, Beáth-agh. “We are not prepared to give up our gifts of yet. We will need this fine weapon to destroy the demoness.”
Roland rolled back up to his feet and let out a yelp of frustration. “I think you hold on too tightly to these gifts. They may have already served their purpose, or perhaps we are meant to sacrifice them and achieve our victory by our own means. Did not Chochokpi say that we had not yet accomplished our mission when we gave him the items to give back to us.” (6)
“If this place is dangerous to walk on two legs, and the rest of us are unwilling to part with our gifts as of yet, why don’t you go and find this aid on your own?” Kazrack suggested.
Everyone contemplated the suggestion silently for a moment.
“Roland,” Martin began. “I trust your instincts in this. If you think that going to the Beastlands will aid our cause, then perhaps you should go…alone…”
Roland pawed over to the statue of Bast and sat before it. “Great Queen Bast. I sit before your visage in thy favored form and beg your aid.” The Bastite laid down before the statue and bared his neck. “I come in proper obeisance and ask that you do not turn me away when I enter your realm and seek your aid directly…”
The Bastite continued to pray in quiet contemplation. Ratchis laid down on the ground and rested his head on his pack and tried to catch some winks while they waited. Kazrack kept his eyes open, watching the portals for more modrons, occasionally eyeing the corner of the room where the shimmer of non-existence would wash over it now and again.
“Hey! There something missing over here!” Gunthar’s voice came from behind the screen adorned with the statue of Anubis. “I think this is a clue. Stuff like this is always a clue of some kind in the stories…”
Martin walked around the screen and was awed by what he saw there. There was a black iron gate with nasty spines along the top behind which was a depth of utter blackness. It was cold behind this screen. Gunthar pointed to a peg on another panel of the screen and the outline of dust below it.
“Hmmm, it looks to have been a horn some sort,” Martin said. “And guessing from the amount of dust around it I’d say it was taken relatively recently. Then again, with the fluctuations in time that are occurring…”
“Fluctuations in time?” asked Bastian coming around the screen as well.
“Yes, well I was thinking about how from what Gilbart and the Lady Aureliana said, that time has flowed in two ways here in the Maze since whatever happened happened.”
“What do you mean time has flowed two ways?” Sergio asked, walking over as he slicked down his mustache with a wet finger.
“I mean, that if we assume that the ‘closing’ of Hurgun’s Maze of the legend coincides with his being trapped by the time elemental, which was soon after you were trapped in the Mirror,” Martin turned to the bard. “It means that you have been trapped in here for about one hundred and fifty years, but Lady Aureliana said it felt like perhaps four to her.”
”Could that not just be a feature of the outlook of her kind if they are long-lived?” Bastian asked. “I mean, yes it has been over a hundred years, but her description of what it felt like doesn’t mean that time is acting screwy. It could be that Hurgun was allowing guests from other realms into his Maze after closing the Maze from Aquerra.”
“One hundred and fifty years?” Sergio’s eyes were wide open as was his mouth.
“I am afraid so,” Martin replied. “Everyone you know is likely dead.”
Sergio Fontane stood up straight, his body becoming rigid for a moment, and then he slowly relaxed. “Well, I guess I won’t have to worry about that little incident in Zootsburg anymore!” He laughed and walked away.
Bastian and Martin looked at each other and shrugged.
“So this is the gate to the realm of Anubis?” Gunthar asked, point to the iron gate.
“Yes.”
“So, this is the way I need to go to rescue Jeremy,” Gunthar said.
“I don’t recommend it,” Martin said. “Anubis does not take kindly to living visitors in the realm of the dead.”
“But here we are and you all said you’d help me get Jeremy back if I helped you with this thing, and here I am helping,” Gunthar reasoned.
“We cannot afford to make a side trek into the realm of Anubis,” Martin said. “At least not until we have fixed the situation with the Maze.”
“Oh, but the pussycat can go traipsing off to La-la land, right?” Gunthar spat. “I see how it is. I guess I’ll have to go alone.”
“But… but we still need your help,” Martin stammered. “If you go through there you might never come back. You probably won’t ever come back…”
“Don’t worry your ugly rotten little head,” Gunthar smirked. “I am a man of virtue. I’ll keep my word and help your sorry asses, but when this thing is done, Hurgun or no Hurgun, I’m going through that gate, and any of you bleedin’ filth that has a conscience will come with me.”
The Neergaardian walked off.
“Wow, he really loved his brother, huh?” Bastian said.
“He never even knew him,” Martin replied.
”I am going,” Roland announced soon after.
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Notes:
(1) This is a duodrone. [sblock]

(2) Look within the sblock to see the Light Room’s layout and how some of the action occurred: [sblock]

(3) DM’s Note: This creature, a dharculus from the 3.0 Manual of the Planes has SR 20.
(4) Sergio cast Freedom of Movement.
(5) DM’s Note: Modrons are immune to subdual damage.
(6) See Session # 84
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