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Rocket your D&D 5E and Level Up: Advanced 5E games into space! Alpha Star Magazine Is Launching... Right Now!

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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 1963215" data-attributes="member: 143">Ah, for that matter, 305's an even better cliffhanger (TRIPLE post!). Much of what's related in this post comes right from the module. * * * * * Chapter 305Lady Thifirane Rhavati was not a beautiful woman by contemporary measure, but on this troubled night in Cauldron, a tangible aura of power hung about her, drawing the attention of everyone in the room to her like a magnet.  She wore an elegant black gown decorated with glyphs stitched in silver thread, forming a pattern that managed to draw the eye and seem strangely disturbing at the same time.  Her golden-brown hair was trapped in an intricate construction of thin wire, rising in a pyramid above her head, and a tiny silver cage glimmered across her chest, a pendant that dangled right above her breasts.  But most disturbing was the third eye set in the center of her forehead; it seemed to track the gathered men and women in the room independently of her normal eyes, as if possessed of its own distinct thoughts. The noblewoman let the wine goblet she held drift from her hand, suspended in mid air by some invisible magic.  A golden weasel slunk across the floor to her leg, and in a smooth motion she drew it up into her hands, stroking its furry hide.  She held the moment for a second longer, reveling in the attention fixed on her by those that had gathered here tonight for a revelation.  ”More than five centuries ago,” she began, “the demodands sent a few of their kind to our reality.  Disguised as humans, they mated with humans and other denizens of this plane.  Most of their spawn were stillborn, but a few survived.  They mated and produced the next generation, with demodand blood.  As the generations passed, all obvious traces of their demodand ancestry faded away.  Today, we recognize this sacred lineage by an invisible birthmark: the sign of Carceri!”  She turned and lifted her hand to highlight the symbol on the tapestry behind her, a slanted arrow with an empty circle in the center.  At her gesture, the sigil began to writhe, as if seeking release from the cloth.  “We call these honored descendents ‘the Shackleborn,’ and their sacrifice is the key to unlocking a portal to Othyrs, the first layer of Carceri.  Here, demodands and countless other fiends have languished for near-eternity.  In Cauldron, we have found more Shackleborn than anywhere else in the realm, and in Cauldron, we have the perfect conditions for the Ritual of Planar Junction.”The rune upon the tapestry suddenly grew and shifted, taking on the form of a twisted black tree adorned with metal cages suspended from its iron branches.  “For the past five years, the Cagewrights have labored in secret to build thirteen soulcages to drain the life energy from the Shackleborn.  These soulcages hang from an artifact called the Tree of Shackled Souls—the device that gathered the life energy needed to unlock the prison doors of Carceri.  Our preparations are nearly complete.  We have assembled the Shackleborn and have prepared them to give their lives to change the world forever.  All that remains is the final key, and once it is in our hands, the ritual will commence.”The image of the black tree burst into silken flames, melting away into nothingness, leaving only the unadorned golden cloth.  “Once the ritual is complete, Cauldron won’t be the same quiet little burg it is today.  It will be the unholy font from which darkness gushes forth, a roiling pit filled with doom and despair for our enemies.  Almost immediately, fiendish armies will sweep across the land and lay waste to surrounding territories, enslaving the weak and carving out new dominions.  Naturally, we expect resistance on all sides, and that’s where you come in.”A grotesque tiefling with boarlike tusks chuckled.  “All eyes will be on Cauldron.  We’ll have their worst fears to toy with.”“Precisely,” Rhiavati returned.  “As kings raise armies to confront the legions of Carceri, your slavers, merchants, mercenaries, spies, and assassins will methodically search for weaknesses from within, soften their resolve, and convince them that their only true choices are to yield or die.”Rhiavati held them all captivated with the vivid picture, but the moment was interrupted as the double doors behind them burst open suddenly, revealing a muscled, eight foot tall dwarf woman clutching a brilliant holy sword. “Party’s over!” Beorna cried, followed an instant later by an exploding fireball that filled the center of the room.</blockquote>

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