Planescape: Chrysalis

[Cabe Zeree]

It continues…

A while ago, I asked if anyone wanted to play something like Planescape, but not exactly it. I’d read Beyond the Countless Doorways, and enjoyed the idea Monte Cook presented about the relationship of planes. Liberally pilfering ideas and planes from PS, I built my own Cosmos and set it spinning, or whatever planes do.

I got enough interested cutters to reply and we started a PBeM. Things happened, I moved across the country, went to Europe for a time, and other players had their own lives. The game suffered and struggled, but I always had one faithful cutter, Ashy. Ashy and I are still throwing the story about, and I’m enjoying it highly.

Recently I decided to move the games from e-mail to the boards, and this is my attempt to do so. Instead of just starting right into it, I decided to provide a little background for any interested readers out there.

This first post contains a quick run down of the characters, while the second will provide a synopsis of the story thus far. Afterward the real game will continue.

Just a heads up to Ashy and a note to others: originally, I used a lot of my own planes and names for the various basher groups. While I’m still going to use the Beyond Countless Doors organization, I’m trying to move back to a “truer” Planescape setting. That means Sigil and the Lady of Pain are back, and most of the planes you know and love are out there, they just might not be connected the same. ;-)

That said, on to the characters:

Barnabus
A quasit from one of the many layers of the Abyss, he came to Sigil after a disagreement with his former employers. Since then his best job has been working for Nikos, nicknamed "Blue-eyes" but never to his face. Nikos, a local blood with connections, hires Barnabus as a "go to" man, and any time someone owes Blue-eyes something, they always see Barnabus first. Hence Barnabus current job of running around the Outlands with the Old Man and Kort. Nikos had a friend that retired to a berg in the Outlands and he needed a favor, so Barnabus and the others were sent to pick up something from the mage.

Barnabus is a quasit, as such, he is two and a half feet tall, thin being of scale and bone with needle like claws and a large pair of bat-like wings. His scales are brown orange and his eyes are gray. Barnabus is a skilled intimidator, yes you read that right, a quait intimidator, and his size and natural abilities make him a decent thief like combatant.

Kort
Another Prime, first a former slave, he became a street thief, then servant, and now he's an apprentice. After receiving a prophetic vision, Kort's guardian Tei'lin brought him to the Cage. Tei'lin sought to take the young man off the street, but its tougher to take the street out of the man. He fell in with Blue-eyes and his toughs after chasing down one of their members that tried to bob him. The lure of side jink and adventure enticed him to head into the Outlands with Barnabus and the Old Man.

Kort is a mid-sized young human man standing five foot seven. He has brown hair and brown eyes, he is thin for his height and his face is round with a roman nose and defined chin. Trained on the street, Kort excels at light and quick combat, and is a talented shot with his magical crossbow.

Old Man (Noi’nu)
A ranger from a Prime, he came to Sigil in search of someone. He spent a lot of time learning the ins and outs of the planes and Sigil before his search led him to Blue-eyes. Nikos offered to help, if the Old Man performed a service for him first, in good faith. The Old Man knew the deal was a cony-catch, but he didn't have many options. Paired up with Barnabus and the young man Kort, he led the three into the Outlands to pick up something from Nikos' friend.

Old Man’s true name is Noi’nu, but he has never informed anyone in the party of it. His character is seeped in secrets, including his appearance, as Noni’nu always wears a full face mask that is completely featureless. The Old Man claims to have contracted the terrible flesh rot disease of leprosy, and hides his face for the comfort of others. Noi’nu is a handwidth over six feet and wears midnight-blue enameled hard leather. He is a consummate fighter and spend many years living “on the go” on his Prime plane before reaching Sigil.

Panaver (Panaver Trahlhorn)
The final Prime, he's spent years in the wilds of his Prime plane learning from his Uncle, a member of the Wanderer's Guild. One day his travels landed him in Sigil, without jink or direction, so he sought out the local Guild chapterhouse. He wanted to join the Guild himself, and Jaana Moonshadow, the Guild's Matriarch in Sigil, gave him the chance. Hints of minotaur ruins in the Hinterlands had gotten to her, and she wanted Panaver to make initial observations and then return to Sigil to see if a larger expedition is warranted. Jaana hired Zee to guide and help Panaver, "while the young man is a capable Guildman, he's an artist and mage, not a swordsman." When Panaver brought Rexx back to the Guild, Jaana was dubious but allowed the tiefling to join, and only if he accompanied Panaver into the field as the young man's assistant.

Panaver is two inches shy of six feet and he has light blonde hair and startlingly blue eyes, a blue so crisp many turn away from his gaze. He is a skinny young man, Panaver is sinew wrapped around bone. His true talent lies in his drawing, because if he concentrates he can make what he draws come to life.

Rexx (Rexx “Luckless” de La Roma)
A quick talking tiefling knife-fighter extraordinaire, Rexx was looking for a way out of Sigil. A very cross wizard placed a curse on him, for some reason or another, that kept him from using the city's numerous portals. Rexx stumbled upon Panaver and found out about the Wanderer's Guild, and the tiefling determined it was his best shot out of the Cage. Jaana accepted him into Guild, his curse was removed, and since has taken Panaver "under his wing," the young man is just too much of a quiet Prime for Rexx to take.

Rexx is a tiefling…he is just over six feet tall, and the two short horns protruding from his head make him slightly taller. He keeps his raven black hair pulled back and his brown eyes always contain a mischievous glimmer. Rexx’s pointed teeth are possibly his most starling aspect to other humanoid planewalkers. A skilled Tarteran Knifefighter, Rexx’s two favorite blades are never far from his hands, beside his martial talent, Rexx is a very smooth talker, and is quite nimble on his feet.

Zee (Zanlinden Trilith)
A githzerai merc, Zee has seen numerous planes over the many years. Jaana hired him to provide Panaver an escort into the Hinterlands and protect him while he's out there. Zee takes his job seriously and will make sure the young man returns to Sigil, it's just Rexx he's not as keen about. The spirited tiefling has a habit of getting into trouble, and the two have only known each other for a moon.

As a githzerai, Zee shares many of the common traits of his race: tall and thin he and the Old Man, see eye to eye. He keeps his coarse red-brown hair short and pulled back and his amber eyes are always watching the world around him. Zee is a traned mercenary, and skilled at many weapons but enjoys using his longsword and crossbow the most.

 

[Cabe Zeree]

The story thus far

The two groups met up separately in Sigil, pretty much how I described in their brief descriptions. To keep them straight, I’ll call Barnabus, the Old Man, and Kort the Sigial Triad, they seek the berg of Lornhall in the Outlands and Blue-eys’ friend Azim Rheedmance. Panaver, Zee, and Rexx will be the Wanderin Three, and for them the Outlands are only a temporary stop, their goal lies somewhere in the Hinterlands, a lost minotaur city awaits.

The Sigil Triad set out from the Cage through a portal in the basement of a dilapidated merchant’s house that rested in the Hive like the jumbled bones of an exposed skeleton. From the Hive to a swamp in the middle of the Outlands, the portal didn’t improve the Triad’s surroundings much. Luckily, they had a floating bridge they kept the out of the worst of the fetid mire.

Things didn’t start off as planned, and they were quickly surrounded by a multitude of snakes. A great telepathic anaconda uncoiled from the nearest tree and addressed the Triad. “The way is closed,” it hissed in their minds. Intrigued by the Old Man the two spoke further, but their conversation ended abruptly when the snake warned if they didn’t leave soon, the Triad would be going to where the snakes and the swamp belong. As the three watched, the swamp began to shimmer and fade before their eyes. The Old Man ordered a dead run and the Sigil Triad burst into the surrounding grasslands in time to see the great willows and clumps of mangroves shimmer and fade away like heat waves rising from the parched earth on a hot day.

The way was definitely closed, and like true planewalkers they chose to press on for Lornhall, where Blue-eyes’ friend had retired. Again things weren’t as simple as Nikos promised, and the Old Man’s fears of a cony-catch were near the mark. The Sigil Triad found Lornhall, but they found it the morning after a band of mercenaries nearly burnt it to the ground. And the mage they came to met, Azim Rheedmance, had stood up to the mercs and got a shiv through the gut for his trouble.

Luckily, another group of planewalkers had found Lornhall earlier in the day, and one of them proved to have a knack for healing…

The Wandering Three left Sigil through temple gate portal in the Guildhall Ward which led them to the ruins of another temple somewhere in the Outlands. Ready to head for Hinterlands, they encountered a minor delay when Rexx wandered off and encountered an irate spinagon. Once the party came to Rexx’s aid, the spinagon spared the tiefling, her first assumption was that Rexx was a “flame-blood baatezu dog,” and in turn the party spared the spinagon. She revealed the dark that she was AWOL from a baatezu army bound for the Blood War, and the Three further earned her friendship as they promised not to reveal her presence to any other baatezu.

The party was reorganized some, and Rexx was placed at point while Zee took up the read, the githzerai wanted to watch their backs, and make sure the tiefling didn’t wander off again. The Three began again, and the Outlands proved to be an easy march, a trail marked the path Zee roughly wanted to take anti-spireward. Eventually the trail led to a town that looked like it had just barely survived a siege, which wasn’t far from the case. A band of mercenaries had just ridden from the town and put a torch to many of the buildings and fields. They quickly learned the mercs had been plaguing the town for days, and a local wizard stood against them, he turned a few into human torches, being a fire mage by trade, but there were too many mercs against him. The merc captain ran the wizard through for his defiance, and then set fire to the town on his way out.

The town was none other than Lornhall, and the wizard was Azim Rheedmance.

The altruistic soul, Panaver, offered to use his magical ability to try to heal the wounded of Lornhall, and even Rexx was able to help some with the little magic he had gleaned from a wizard’s necromantic tome he had somehow acquired. Azim was the worst off and demanded all of Panaver’s attention, but with his sketchbook, Panaver achieved amazing results and closed all of the wizard’s wounds.

After their day helping the wounded, Rexx and Panaver were in need of a place to recover, so Rabian, Lornhall’s spokesman, led the Wandering Three to Nara’s Gambit, Lornhall’s only inn. When the Sigil Triad arrives in town later in the day, Rabian brings them to the Gambit as well, and the two groups meet for the first time.

Both groups are also invited to minor celebration that will take place that evening, it’s a celebration of being alive and the rebuilding of the town, but in the mean time it was suggested they rest and clean up. The Old Man showed interest in helping Nara repair her inn, and spent most of the afternoon doing so, a guarded friendship formed. Within the Gambit, Panaver and Kort, nearly the same age, also started to form the first bonds of friendship.

At the festivities, which felt more like a funeral party than a true celebration, some of the six learned the truth about the mercenaries and the blow they dealt Lornhall. The mercs had come to town and initially they were good business, but the longer they stayed the ruder, crasser, and more destructive they became, and the more they wore on the nerve of the town. Then the mercenary leader, a blood named Cedric, made very aggressive advances towards one of Lornhall’s beautiful young women. She had been spurning him throughout his stay in Lornhall because her heart belonged to another, and Cedric had grown tired of not having her. Unfortunately for Cedric, her heart belonged Azim, the two were deeply in love, and Azim didn’t stand for Cedric’s actions.

Azim rose up against the mercs, and he’d hoped the village would stand behind him, but they aren’t made of the sterner stuff that makes up a planewalker. Cedric sneered at the flame mage and demonstrated fair play was part of his vocabulary, he and a handful of his henchmen went after the wizard. Things had already gone horribly wrong, so Azim pulled out all the stops and fried a handful of mercs with his fire magic. Enraged, Cedric eventually cut Azim down, and then set flame to Lornhall using the fire that still engulfed his fallen men. Still not satisfied, Cedric and his mercs kidnapped a few of Lornhall’s young adults and then rode out of town.

After working and talking with the Old Man for an afternoon, Nara decided to approach him at the festival. Calling it her “second gambit,” she was nervous but hopeful the Old Man would hear her out. She and a few others from the village were riding out the following morning to track down the mercs and get back Lornhall’s “children.” Nara, Rabian, the village spokesman, and their ranger were past planewalkers, but no one else had the experience to take on a band of mercenaries. That left three against eleven, poor odds all around.

Slightly enamored with Nara, the Old Man quickly agreed. Zee, who had been talking with the Old Man when Nara approached, knew Cedric, they’d “worked” together in the past, and he had score to settle, but he said he had to ask Panaver first. It was the young man’s decision, as it was his mission that would be disrupted. Panaver quickly agreed himself, and Rexx was always up for a little danger, as long as Zee and the Old man were leading the charge of course. Kort also agreed to help, a former slave himself, he knew the pains it brought and would help any in a similar condition. Barnabus said they were all fools for risking their hide, and vowed to leave town as soon as Azim woke up and he got the goods for Nikos.

So the game continues…

 

[Cabe Zeree]

A bit gloomy isn't he?

Noi'nu tosses the coin purse to the quasit. "If I am able to return with you, I shall, but I cannot stand idly by while folk need aid."

He then looks to the others, "We meet at the Inn at first light and set out from there. Make ready to go before you sleep - enough time has slipped past us and every moment we tary adds miles to our quarry's feet." The Old Man turns on a heel and heads to the stables.

Once he is out of earshot, Rexx waves the rib-bone in his hand imperiously, "Well, if th' Lord an' Master's not gone off to be in a huff then I'd be a three-legged quadron..." He shoots the others a sly grin and then turns his face down in a dramatic frown, "A bit gloomy, isn't he? That cutter'd make a Dustman look cheery and a Hardhead seem loose-in-the- britches!"

A few chuckles erupt here and there, but there is a frown in Zee's eyes. He slips off silently to the Inn and makes preparations for tomorrow.

 

[Cabe Zeree]

Nara's Second Gambit

The sky climbs slowly shifts from its blue-purple to the gray of the first sun's rays. Noi'nu has been watching it most of the night, sleep a thing often foreign to him. The golden dragon hasn't even peaked over the horizon yet but the hunter has his pack shouldered and strides into the Gambit's Courtyard. The sight actually causes him to pause, everyone, his eyes scan the assembled group, yes everyone is present with their packs nearby.

"You're not the only one who didn't get much sleep," Kort says with a nod of his head.

What surprises Noi'nu more is Barnabus' presence. The quasit is reclining on the eave of the Gambit, and leisurely picking his teeth with his nails. He notes the Old Man's mask turned towards him, "well even mister call the shots can be surprised can't he? Old Firestarter woke up in the night. Debt to Blue Eyes or not, he's not playin till he hears word bout his tart."

Nara scowled up at him for the comment, but Barnabus ignored her. "Looks like I'm part of this fool's errand a bit longer. An I can see you're as pleased as a Baatezu in the Silver Sea," he finished and offered a toothy smile.

"Friendliness aside," Nara said as she provided the quasit with another glare, "we do seem to have a transportation problem." As she said this, she patted the neck of the horse beside her. It was a shorter chestnut brown horse with sleek lines. Two other horses, each white with brown spots, stood nearby, but that was it. "Didn't quite expect the turn out, not that I'm not pleased as a drunk centaur about it," she offered. "But it leaves us with no clear solution. Had to beg to get those two. There just aren't that many horses in Lornhall. Mules, ox, and cattle, yea, but not decent horses."

"Just give me a few more seconds," Panaver said. The young man sat beneath the lantern in the courtyard, with his back propped against the post. He was hard at work sketching in the book always at his side.

"What'cha up to lad?" Rexx asked as he took a few steps closer. The blond headed man shooed him away with his left hand.

"You'll see in a second, just stay out of my light."

"Well if the good lad didn't wake up snuggling with a bladeling," Rexx said, but Panaver didn't bother answering. His hand and pencil danced across the paper.

Noi'nu could feel the wax dripping from the candles, but when it almost became too much for him, the young man laid down his pencil with a satisfied sigh. He ripped out the piece of paper from his book and stood. Panaver studied his work for a few breaths longer before he simply tossed it in the air. It danced for a few more breaths on the soft morning breeze before it landed picture up near the center of the courtyard.

Maybe the young man hadn't gotten enough sleep. The hair on Noi'nu's neck jumped, he felt a tingle sizzle up and down his spine, before it washed out to his hands and feet. Noi'nu focused on Panaver, his blue eyes were shut tight and a trickle of sweat wandered down his brow. He was whispering a language that Noi'nu only heart bits of, but it was strangely familiar.

Panaver's drawing began to ripple on the earth. The horses pawed the stones and whinnied. Noi'nu looked to Pananver's drawing for the first time; it depicted three steeds with muscles like taught chords bearing three riders.

"By my father's ghost!" Nara breathed. She did her best to calm her horse and the others. Panaver continued his whispered chant. The rippling of the picture grew stronger, and things began to push out of the paper.

The muzzle of a horse? Part of a leg with a hoof? The horses in miniature leapt from the page, their riders left behind. Before everyone's unblinking eyes the horses quickly grew to full sizes, and as they did so their color shifted from parchment yellow to a deep wet earth brown, nearly black.

Panaver fell silent as he slumped back against the lantern post. The horse closest to Noi'nu, obviously the lead stallion of this small herd, stomped earth, reared its head, and let out a whiney.

 

[Cabe Zeree]

We've got some coney-catchers to shiv!

Noi'nu pats the steed on the neck and looks to the exhausted mage. "Well done, cutter", he says, nodding slowly. He then walks over and extends the man a hand, helping him up.

As Noi'nu takes Panaver's hand a bolt races up his arm, bringing every nerve to tingling life. His constant companions, the voices murmur, no sing, in his mind. "You'll have to show me that little trick later..."

"Thanks, can't always say my talent works, but sometimes," Panaver says with a smile as he removes his hand. The voices go queit, and the sensation dies so quickly, Noi'nu is left wondering if he just imagined the sensation.

Noi'nu shakes his head once.

He then walks over to Barnabus and holds out his hand - there is no need for him to speak his request, as Noi'nu knows that the quasit will know what he wants.

Once he retrieves his coins, the masked man then mounts his steed. "Mount up, bashers - we've got some coney-catchers to shiv!" With that, Noi'nu spurs his own mount into the direction that the bandits were last seen...

 

[Cabe Zeree]

It's a Lornhall problem

The group races through the small streets of Lornhall heading "out" towards the Hinterlands, away from the Spire. On the road out of the small town, Noi'nu spies four other hourses bearing riders. If he's not mistaken Rabian's one of the riders in front of him.

Nara pushes her horse closer towards Noi'nu's. "Behold Lornhall's rescue party. All of our brave men." She pauses, and the gap closes. "I might not have told 'em you and the rest were joing me."

The six horses come thundering to a stop before the four.

"Nara what in the hells is this?" Rabian barkes, reigning in his horse to keep it calm.

Nara looks from Noi'nu and the others behind them, to the four men before her. "To me it looks like a merc dog bashin posse," she replies, her eyes glittering.

"Line 'em up, we'll knock em down!" Kort shouts. Nara smiles and nods.

"It's a Lornhall problem," Rabian growls.

 

[Cabe Zeree]

Re: Lornhall problem

"Perhaps it is a Lornhall problem-", Nio'nu speaks, tipping his chin in the direction of Rabian, "-if you consider the lives of innocents solely under the purview of Lornhall." The masked man pauses for a moment, letting his words sink in and then continues speaking, "But I do not. Nor will I abide useless wig-wagging whilst the lives of innocents hang in the balance. Any man who would should consider his motives."

Noi'nu lets his words fall to the ground like stones...

At Noi'nu's words, Zee nods grimly, his lips tight and face blank. Rexx merely lets out a long, low whistle and then takes to cleaning his long,black fingernails with one of his many daggers...

 

[Cabe Zeree]

The time 's at hand

"My motives are savin our own. That means ridin fast and far, not watchin after a bunch a would be cutters come ta be heroes," Rabian growls. "Ya fall behind, ya stay there," he declares and turns his horse. "Garret! Forward!" he shouts.

Looking to the head of the four, Noi'nu sees a weathered dark-skinned man with pockmarked cheeks astride a light tan horse. A magnificent dog stands beside the horse, sleek furred and long of limb, Noi'nu guesses its back would come up to his waist. Garret seems to say a few words to the dog. It gives one drawn out bay as a response and then takes of down the path. Garret kicks his horse to follow, and soon the entire party is racing through the grasslands beyond Lornhall.

The breakneck paces isn't one the horses can keep up for long. Before the golden dragon climbs very high in the sky, they have to reign them in. The alternate between a walk, a quick trot, and a gallop throughout the day, always following Garret's hound. They don't pass through any more towns or villages, but every so often there are wells and a couple taverns along the road.

Many times they come to junctions in the road. Sometimes the junctions are small trails, other times they are maintained roads. At each intersection the group slows, allowing the hound to explore all avenues, but it invariably continues along their same heading. One that will lead them hinterlands if they travel long enough.

As the gold dragon is a couple bells away from setting, they talk with an innkeep that had a run in with ten to twelve bashers not two days ago. They had a few others with them that kept quiet and look pretty worn. The 'keep would have turned them away normaly, but their leader didn't look like the kind of tough to mess with.

This news pleased Rabian and Nara greatly. The description of the five "others" matched the descriptions of the missing Lornhall children. All were at least alive. It also meant the mercs had to ride slower because of their charges, and if the Lorhall party kept their pace, they could catch them in about two days.

The next two days passed with a lot of tension among the party, and it intensified as the days wore on. Everyone had the mercs and the captives on their mind in some manner. Even Barnabus, who wouldn't stop complaining about riding double with Kort. Of course he wanted them alive so the mage would cough up the goods, but he was thinking about them. And their hope was kept alive by inn owners along the trail, "yep 10-12 with 5 others, so many days ago."

The trail lead out pushing closer and closer to the hinterlands. Both Zee and Noi'nu could feel the chaotic lands nearby, thrumming in their veins. Before the feeling got too intense though, the trail turned "clockwise" along another road.

"Where in the pits these bastards headin," Rabian scowled on the sixth morning.

Zee knew though, "They're lost," he said with a humorless smile. "Cedric knows there's a gate around here somewhere, but 'e's not sure. 'E'll find is soon enough though. The nature a the Outlands."

"Where's he headed?"

"A cheery spot. Crag, in Gahenna.” No one asked Zee how he knew.

Still the true question some were pondering was, what would come pass when they finally caught up with the mercs? As the blades fell, they found their answer that evening. Everyone knew the horses simply couldn't keep the pace any longer, but still a little more needed to be asked of them.

With the setting sun the ten horses immerged from a forest they'd been in most of the day. Rabian was looking for a decent place to call it another day when everyone saw a group of riders in the field before them. Eleven horses by Noi'nu's count and five bore two riders.

"The time 's at hand. You've ridden well," Rabian said turning towards Noi'nu, Zee, and Nara who had drawn close without knowing it. "You've m'thanks. We need ta keep our five charges safe, and I'd have your council before we bring our vengance to the curs!"

 

[Cabe Zeree]

We shall wait til nightfall

Noi'nu nods slowly. "We shall wait til nightfall, til the bub flows. Then, I will walk into their camp and provide a distraction. While I keep them busy, the rest of you get the children out, quickly..."

Zee, normally unreadable, drops his jaw at the masked man's words. Rexx merely giggles, "Barmy, barmy, barmy! I like this basher!", he says with a smile clapping Old Man on the back.

Noi'nu says nothing, but does not appear pleased...

 

[Cabe Zeree]

Cedric always was a tough and codgy basher

The group keeps well back and watches the party. Luckily the terrain is flat allowing them to keep out of site.

Its very late dusk when mercs decide to stop and set up camp. The Lornhall group's proximity to the mercs forces them to go without no fire, and the night’s chill begins to bite.

Sneaking up with Garret who took up watching the mercs, Noi'nu believes there are probably cheerier camps in the Red Prison. They cook up meat they caught on the trail, and serve it out without ceremony, even the captives get some. If there is any drink, its taken in small quantities and doesn't do much to change the mercs' attitudes. They stay somber and quiet, so quiet not even a useful bit of conversation drifts their way.

If asked, Zee nods with a frown. "Cedric always was a tough and codgy basher. Ran a tight camp, and even worse when he feels the blade a' hoverin."

Info: There are eleven mercs including Cedric. And there are five captives.
The captives are kept closest to the fire, with their hands and feet bound.
The 11 mercs are arrayed around the captives in a rough circle.