Soneillon. Part 1 (Updated 6/15)
- Thread starter Sepulchrave II
- Start date
Devils vs Demons vs Celestials vs Mortals...
... infighting present in all of the groups (ok, maybe not celestials)...
... mortals not altogether on anyone's side, least of all their own ...
... demiplanes whose creatures had a template party ...
... tension between Married-Man and Wife-Woman ...
... the paladin philosiphizing with the Duke ...
I don't think I could say Source Book if I knew everything of what was going on. Great googly moogly.
Darthor: You've been reading Rise of Endymion, eh? Choose again, indeed.
... infighting present in all of the groups (ok, maybe not celestials)...
... mortals not altogether on anyone's side, least of all their own ...
... demiplanes whose creatures had a template party ...
... tension between Married-Man and Wife-Woman ...
... the paladin philosiphizing with the Duke ...
I don't think I could say Source Book if I knew everything of what was going on. Great googly moogly.
Darthor: You've been reading Rise of Endymion, eh? Choose again, indeed.
Ancalagon
Dusty Dragon
Wow.
Complicated ineed
Narzugon are scary... they don't get more HD, they get character levels...
So a narzugon might be a 10 hd creature, or a 20th level something WITH 10 HD on top of it
. That could be level 5/5/10 fighter/rogue/blackgard, or level 20 sorcerer
Ancalagon
Complicated ineed
Narzugon are scary... they don't get more HD, they get character levels...
So a narzugon might be a 10 hd creature, or a 20th level something WITH 10 HD on top of it
. That could be level 5/5/10 fighter/rogue/blackgard, or level 20 sorcerer Ancalagon
grodog
Hero
Q1 worlds vs. Shomei's planes
I dug up Q1 this weekend, to see how similar the various web worlds were detailed therein vs. the worlds Shomei showed Mostin and the rest of the gang.
The worlds visually displayed by Shomei were, in order:
All-in-all, Sep has certainly breathed much more life into Afqithan than Q1 detailed (which is not much of a surprise, really
).
A further difference is that the at least some of the worlds in Sep's version are demiplanes (Afqithan is explicitly named as such), whereas the worlds of Q1 were alternate Prime Material Planes. Perhaps in Wyre's planar cosmology other alternate PMPs don't exist?
Another interesting feature of Afqithan is its planar curvature, as related by Shomei:
I'd also be curious to hear about the planar mechanics behind this effect. It sounds like Afqithan has definite boundaries which are self-reflexive; I wonder if the inhabitants don't know that their world is so small and has such explicit boundaries and edges? Some of these concepts are similar to those from the Manual of the Planes, though they more strongly remind me of _The Primal Order_ and the TPO planar supplement _Chessboards_ (both publised by WotC in the pre-MtG days). Are you familiar with them Sep?
That's all for now!
EDIT: grammar, typos, TPO added
I dug up Q1 this weekend, to see how similar the various web worlds were detailed therein vs. the worlds Shomei showed Mostin and the rest of the gang.
The worlds visually displayed by Shomei were, in order:
- Afqithan (this world mirrors Q1's The Kingdom of Caer Sidi; Sep's version is far richer than the one detailed by Sutherland, and only seems inspired by the Caer Sidi world vs. actually being based on it)
- Saraf (this seems to mirror The Frozen Lands of Q1, in particular its level of conquest; we don't really have a enough info on it yet, though, to determine how similar the two worlds are )
- the unnamed molten smithy realm (which has no analogue in Q1)
- Throile, the jungle-like region contested by Graz'zt and Soneillon (this matches the vague conception of the extra Q1 world as "a sweltering, steamy world of thick towering vegetation and huge insects and reptiles" though we didn't even learn that much about Sep's version yet)
All-in-all, Sep has certainly breathed much more life into Afqithan than Q1 detailed (which is not much of a surprise, really
). A further difference is that the at least some of the worlds in Sep's version are demiplanes (Afqithan is explicitly named as such), whereas the worlds of Q1 were alternate Prime Material Planes. Perhaps in Wyre's planar cosmology other alternate PMPs don't exist?
Another interesting feature of Afqithan is its planar curvature, as related by Shomei:
I'd also be curious to hear about the planar mechanics behind this effect. It sounds like Afqithan has definite boundaries which are self-reflexive; I wonder if the inhabitants don't know that their world is so small and has such explicit boundaries and edges? Some of these concepts are similar to those from the Manual of the Planes, though they more strongly remind me of _The Primal Order_ and the TPO planar supplement _Chessboards_ (both publised by WotC in the pre-MtG days). Are you familiar with them Sep?
That's all for now!
EDIT: grammar, typos, TPO added
Last edited:
Sepulchrave II
Legend
Time for a mini-update.
I'm on vacation next week, so its likely to be a fortnight before I can update again. Grodog - I'll answer your (growing backlog of) outstanding questions when I get back - you'll have to excuse a slight delay until then.
Wrt. Caer Sidi in Q1 (and I remember it well) - the name, and the 'Pharisees,' the ruling caste, were both taken from "Three Hearts and Three Lions" by Poul Anderson - mentioned at the back of the 1e DMG "recommended reading" IIRC. A very charming story indeed.
Anyway...
Short Update
Iua had sat largely quiet during the discussions, her emotions churning rapidly, but conscious of the inappropriateness of an untimely confrontation with Ortwin, who evinced his usual swagger and nonchalance.
When the Bard had recounted his encounter with the nereids – speaking no falsehood, but leaving sufficient room for all kinds of inference – she had sighed inwardly, aware of his capacity for gross insensitivity. Mostin had fidgeted uncomfortably, and Nwm had kept his eyes diplomatically lowered. Eadric, as always, had retained an open and accommodating expression which did not suit his current sidhe features. The duelist was glad that he would be wearing a helm – subterfuge was not one of the Paladin’s strong points. Subtlety, and reading others’ moods, however, could be.
"You should be cautious of roaming too far afield," Eadric said vaguely to Ortwin. "It may have unforeseen consequences."
Ortwin squinted, unsure of the Paladin’s meaning.
"It is important to maintain the group’s cohesion and unity of purpose," Eadric continued obliquely. "And one of us alone is too easy a target – invisibility is no protection against the sidhe, or a passing dragon, for that matter. Forays should be made in pairs – preferably in the company of a spellcaster – in case a speedy retreat is necessary."
"Good idea," Ortwin nodded. "Perhaps Nwm should come next time. You like nereids, don’t you Nwm?"
"I am reluctant to categorize my feelings towards an entire race of creatures in such simple terms," Nwm replied evasively.
"Nonsense," Ortwin said archly. "When you were younger, Nwm…"
"Alas, I am no longer young," the Druid interrupted.
"But when you were," Ortwin persisted blithely, "you frolicked with nymphs and dryads and nereids and sirines with the best of them. You were never stuffy, like Ed is."
"Nor was I as selfish and hedonistic as you," Nwm snapped. "Just because I don’t have Eadric’s…"
"Hang-ups?" Ortwin suggested.
"Perspective," Nwm continued. "Bah! What’s the use? You wouldn’t know what sacred meant if the Goddess pissed in your face."
Shomei shot Mostin an inquiring look.
Yes, it’s usually like this, was the Alienist’s unvoiced reply.
The Infernalist clicked her fingers. "Tactics," she said.
**
Mostin’s intellect was amplified to a level he had never before experienced, and his mind was awash with powerful spells. They seemed to compete for space, and threatened to spill over. Almost every one of his higher valences was occupied – four more castings of mind blank had actually relieved the pressure on his consciousness.*
Every spell – arcane and divine – that the party possessed would be deployed to maximum effect. They had spent over an hour discussing strategy in an attempt to coordinate their resources. Eadric would be contributing death wards, and even Ortwin’s paltry collection of spells would be used in order to free up some of Shomei’s lower valences.
The Alienist had prepared gate, prismatic sphere, Mordenkainen’s disjunction, time stop, reality maelstrom; a chained phantasmal killer, a chained polymorph other, five disintegrates, and four sonically substituted fire orbs – he was intent on not having the targets slide out of the way again, as the chimera had done. He had prepared a pair of dimensional anchors in case they ran into anything that they didn’t want to get away, and two banishments in case they encountered anything that they did want to go away. He had prepared an insanity spell, his usual utility spells and divinations, and for his summoning he favoured pseudoimmoths – the idea being to conjure six or seven of them, and then ordering them to begin a magical barrage of their own. He had also prepared a chained flesh to stone spell – a tactic he had never before employed. He held a plane shift in reserve in case a speedy retreat was necessary.
Aside from two squamous pulses and a finger of death in the event that they met the dragon, Nwm would be acting primarily in a support role and providing a variety of wards, augmentations, and healing spells. Shomei was split between offense, defense and general utility, and would be deploying extended stoneskins and doubly empowered endurances – further augmented by the ambient magic – and two effulgent epurations, to limit the power of the initial assault if it came. She had a host of minor buffs, numerous abjurations and several powerful conjurations prepared – power word stun, maze and gate. She boasted a horrid wilting which would be empowered through her rod and further magnified – to truly stellar proportions – by the enhanced magic of the plane.
"If you thought that the chimera’s attack was bad," she said to Mostin, "you should wait until you see this one – if I have a chance to get it off."
"What is an effulgent epuration?" Eadric asked.
"You will see," Shomei half-smiled.
Mostin turned greedily to the Infernalist. "Perhaps that spell is tradeable?"
Shomei shrugged. "Maybe. Hopefully, it will not come to blows in any case – one of my highest valences will be invested in Ortwin. His charm is what stands between us and an unpleasant situation."
"And I assume that your gate would be to bring devils here?" Eadric sighed.
"Not necessarily," Shomei replied. "I am not above calling on other entities if required."
"And yours, Mostin?" The Paladin inquired.
"It’s a surprise," Mostin said, displaying a demonic grin.
Shomei shot him a glance filled with trepidation, before summoning a succubus and dispatching it to Irknaan’s fortress.
In its hand, it held a cordial invitation to hunt, from Duke Rhalid and his consort, the Auran Princess, Iua.
The screen which protected the encampment was lifted, and the hilltop – with its collection of tents – suddenly became visible.
**
Irknaan inwardly scowled, although his face betrayed no expression of his irritation. He stared from atop his tallest tower, a hundred fathoms above the base of the rock pinnacle upon which his castle was built.
The edifice, which had appeared at some stage in the past few hours, was less than a mile from his gates. Needle-sharp, black, lusterless and seemingly unpierced by any door or window, it vied for dominion of the sky with his own fortress.
Irknaan briefly considered whether allowing the devils into his own court may have been wiser than forcing them to ‘make camp’ outside of the walls. The infernal tower was, predictably, impervious to divinations of all kinds. Irknaan brooded about what was transpiring inside: they had opened at least one gate, as testified by the presence of sharp-eyed spined devils, in tireless flight about the place. And spinugons were the least of his concerns.
The three Dukes – technically one Duke, one Count and a Nuncio – who were, presumably, still closeted within the tower somewhere, had not shown themselves since Irknaan’s denial of an audience. Their actions, whilst provocative, were not entirely unexpected, and a good deal of posturing could be expected on both sides before any real communication of intent or purpose occurred.
Duke Murmuur, Irknaan knew, was the senior member of the diabolic envoy, although in guile and subtlety both Furcas and Titivilus no doubt outshone him. Whilst Murmuur was a relatively straightforward opponent – albeit a fierce and capable warrior – the others, both vassals of Dispater, were intellectuals without peer amongst the middle-ranking aristocracy. The Narzugons – Knights of the Order of the Fly – were Murmuur’s retainers, and were potentially dangerous opponents, although Irknaan’s own bodyguards were likely a match for them.
In any case, Irknaan considered ironically, if the Lords of Dis or Malbolge really want this place, what can I do to stop them?
Abruptly, Lehurze appeared behind him. Her words were a gamble.
"Will you petition Rhyxali for aid? Or Graz’zt?"
The King’s face remained emotionless. "You presume a great deal for one who has been here less than a day."
"I sometimes favour speed and efficiency of purpose over diplomacy," the Succubus replied.
Irknaan gestured briefly, and Lehurze was held with a look of astonishment upon her face. Suddenly, pain more intense than she had experienced in a aeon overwhelmed her. Her skin began to peel off in strips from body and her spirit screamed, but her mouth – clenched and unmoving – was incapable of vocalizing.
Irknaan waited until she was almost dead before he released her. Lehurze collapsed upon the marble flags of the rooftop, ichor pouring from her ruptured form. She lashed out at him with a power word, but space rippled around him and the syllables evaporated impotently.
He held her again. "You’ll have to do better than that," he said. "You’re one of Soneillon’s whores, aren’t you?"
I was.
"And whom do you serve now?"
Myself.
"But you still remain in communication with your former mistress?"
Amongst others. I have many contacts.
"I think that it is time that you were honest with me," King Irknaan smiled thinly.
There are a number of demons whom I can sue for help.
But at what cost? Irknaan mused. His grip on Afqithan, although relatively solid, would rapidly become tenuous if powerful demons with unknown agendas began appearing. More powerful demons with unknown agendas, he considered, as he observed Lehurze.
"What do you suggest, Lehurze?" He released her again, and her form became limp. She coughed dark bile.
"An alliance, whilst it remains to our mutual benefit."
"If you seek to supplant Nhura, then I would warn you: she is deadly. Do you have designs on Afqithan?"
"Every succubus desires to be a queen, Irknaan."
He had read her accurately – perhaps more accurately than she had read herself. Arcanists who came to Afqithan always reacted the same way. Whatever their initial view of the little demiplane – a parochial backwater, inward-looking and insignificant – they rapidly became enamoured.
The exhilaration of spellcasting was too much to resist. The magical power which coursed through everything. The effortless joy of manifesting. The dark, brooding beauty of the place.
A feeling of enormous poignancy threatened to overcome Irknaan. He would rather die a thousand times than surrender his kingdom to any other.
"I do not trust you one iota," he said to her.
"That is wise," she replied.
So he laid a geas on her, and bound her to him, which suited Lehurze well enough. Passivity was her oldest friend, and her greatest ally.
*Mostin rarely, if ever, fills every spell slot in the morning, preferring the flexibility of a quick fifteen or thirty minutes to cram another spell if required. He is usually at around two-thirds capacity. That morning, he was fully primed, and had an intelligence of 40 (he was under the effect of a trebly empowered fox’s cunning, further empowered and maximized by the magical trait of the plane): save DCs against his spells were as high as he could get them. He had just reached 20th level, and was relishing the power that it afforded: if it came to blows, the general tactic was to deploy fortitude-targeting spells, negating the evasion ability of the umbral feys and simultaneously forcing their weakest save.
I'm on vacation next week, so its likely to be a fortnight before I can update again. Grodog - I'll answer your (growing backlog of) outstanding questions when I get back - you'll have to excuse a slight delay until then.
Wrt. Caer Sidi in Q1 (and I remember it well) - the name, and the 'Pharisees,' the ruling caste, were both taken from "Three Hearts and Three Lions" by Poul Anderson - mentioned at the back of the 1e DMG "recommended reading" IIRC. A very charming story indeed.
Anyway...
Short Update
Iua had sat largely quiet during the discussions, her emotions churning rapidly, but conscious of the inappropriateness of an untimely confrontation with Ortwin, who evinced his usual swagger and nonchalance.
When the Bard had recounted his encounter with the nereids – speaking no falsehood, but leaving sufficient room for all kinds of inference – she had sighed inwardly, aware of his capacity for gross insensitivity. Mostin had fidgeted uncomfortably, and Nwm had kept his eyes diplomatically lowered. Eadric, as always, had retained an open and accommodating expression which did not suit his current sidhe features. The duelist was glad that he would be wearing a helm – subterfuge was not one of the Paladin’s strong points. Subtlety, and reading others’ moods, however, could be.
"You should be cautious of roaming too far afield," Eadric said vaguely to Ortwin. "It may have unforeseen consequences."
Ortwin squinted, unsure of the Paladin’s meaning.
"It is important to maintain the group’s cohesion and unity of purpose," Eadric continued obliquely. "And one of us alone is too easy a target – invisibility is no protection against the sidhe, or a passing dragon, for that matter. Forays should be made in pairs – preferably in the company of a spellcaster – in case a speedy retreat is necessary."
"Good idea," Ortwin nodded. "Perhaps Nwm should come next time. You like nereids, don’t you Nwm?"
"I am reluctant to categorize my feelings towards an entire race of creatures in such simple terms," Nwm replied evasively.
"Nonsense," Ortwin said archly. "When you were younger, Nwm…"
"Alas, I am no longer young," the Druid interrupted.
"But when you were," Ortwin persisted blithely, "you frolicked with nymphs and dryads and nereids and sirines with the best of them. You were never stuffy, like Ed is."
"Nor was I as selfish and hedonistic as you," Nwm snapped. "Just because I don’t have Eadric’s…"
"Hang-ups?" Ortwin suggested.
"Perspective," Nwm continued. "Bah! What’s the use? You wouldn’t know what sacred meant if the Goddess pissed in your face."
Shomei shot Mostin an inquiring look.
Yes, it’s usually like this, was the Alienist’s unvoiced reply.
The Infernalist clicked her fingers. "Tactics," she said.
**
Mostin’s intellect was amplified to a level he had never before experienced, and his mind was awash with powerful spells. They seemed to compete for space, and threatened to spill over. Almost every one of his higher valences was occupied – four more castings of mind blank had actually relieved the pressure on his consciousness.*
Every spell – arcane and divine – that the party possessed would be deployed to maximum effect. They had spent over an hour discussing strategy in an attempt to coordinate their resources. Eadric would be contributing death wards, and even Ortwin’s paltry collection of spells would be used in order to free up some of Shomei’s lower valences.
The Alienist had prepared gate, prismatic sphere, Mordenkainen’s disjunction, time stop, reality maelstrom; a chained phantasmal killer, a chained polymorph other, five disintegrates, and four sonically substituted fire orbs – he was intent on not having the targets slide out of the way again, as the chimera had done. He had prepared a pair of dimensional anchors in case they ran into anything that they didn’t want to get away, and two banishments in case they encountered anything that they did want to go away. He had prepared an insanity spell, his usual utility spells and divinations, and for his summoning he favoured pseudoimmoths – the idea being to conjure six or seven of them, and then ordering them to begin a magical barrage of their own. He had also prepared a chained flesh to stone spell – a tactic he had never before employed. He held a plane shift in reserve in case a speedy retreat was necessary.
Aside from two squamous pulses and a finger of death in the event that they met the dragon, Nwm would be acting primarily in a support role and providing a variety of wards, augmentations, and healing spells. Shomei was split between offense, defense and general utility, and would be deploying extended stoneskins and doubly empowered endurances – further augmented by the ambient magic – and two effulgent epurations, to limit the power of the initial assault if it came. She had a host of minor buffs, numerous abjurations and several powerful conjurations prepared – power word stun, maze and gate. She boasted a horrid wilting which would be empowered through her rod and further magnified – to truly stellar proportions – by the enhanced magic of the plane.
"If you thought that the chimera’s attack was bad," she said to Mostin, "you should wait until you see this one – if I have a chance to get it off."
"What is an effulgent epuration?" Eadric asked.
"You will see," Shomei half-smiled.
Mostin turned greedily to the Infernalist. "Perhaps that spell is tradeable?"
Shomei shrugged. "Maybe. Hopefully, it will not come to blows in any case – one of my highest valences will be invested in Ortwin. His charm is what stands between us and an unpleasant situation."
"And I assume that your gate would be to bring devils here?" Eadric sighed.
"Not necessarily," Shomei replied. "I am not above calling on other entities if required."
"And yours, Mostin?" The Paladin inquired.
"It’s a surprise," Mostin said, displaying a demonic grin.
Shomei shot him a glance filled with trepidation, before summoning a succubus and dispatching it to Irknaan’s fortress.
In its hand, it held a cordial invitation to hunt, from Duke Rhalid and his consort, the Auran Princess, Iua.
The screen which protected the encampment was lifted, and the hilltop – with its collection of tents – suddenly became visible.
**
Irknaan inwardly scowled, although his face betrayed no expression of his irritation. He stared from atop his tallest tower, a hundred fathoms above the base of the rock pinnacle upon which his castle was built.
The edifice, which had appeared at some stage in the past few hours, was less than a mile from his gates. Needle-sharp, black, lusterless and seemingly unpierced by any door or window, it vied for dominion of the sky with his own fortress.
Irknaan briefly considered whether allowing the devils into his own court may have been wiser than forcing them to ‘make camp’ outside of the walls. The infernal tower was, predictably, impervious to divinations of all kinds. Irknaan brooded about what was transpiring inside: they had opened at least one gate, as testified by the presence of sharp-eyed spined devils, in tireless flight about the place. And spinugons were the least of his concerns.
The three Dukes – technically one Duke, one Count and a Nuncio – who were, presumably, still closeted within the tower somewhere, had not shown themselves since Irknaan’s denial of an audience. Their actions, whilst provocative, were not entirely unexpected, and a good deal of posturing could be expected on both sides before any real communication of intent or purpose occurred.
Duke Murmuur, Irknaan knew, was the senior member of the diabolic envoy, although in guile and subtlety both Furcas and Titivilus no doubt outshone him. Whilst Murmuur was a relatively straightforward opponent – albeit a fierce and capable warrior – the others, both vassals of Dispater, were intellectuals without peer amongst the middle-ranking aristocracy. The Narzugons – Knights of the Order of the Fly – were Murmuur’s retainers, and were potentially dangerous opponents, although Irknaan’s own bodyguards were likely a match for them.
In any case, Irknaan considered ironically, if the Lords of Dis or Malbolge really want this place, what can I do to stop them?
Abruptly, Lehurze appeared behind him. Her words were a gamble.
"Will you petition Rhyxali for aid? Or Graz’zt?"
The King’s face remained emotionless. "You presume a great deal for one who has been here less than a day."
"I sometimes favour speed and efficiency of purpose over diplomacy," the Succubus replied.
Irknaan gestured briefly, and Lehurze was held with a look of astonishment upon her face. Suddenly, pain more intense than she had experienced in a aeon overwhelmed her. Her skin began to peel off in strips from body and her spirit screamed, but her mouth – clenched and unmoving – was incapable of vocalizing.
Irknaan waited until she was almost dead before he released her. Lehurze collapsed upon the marble flags of the rooftop, ichor pouring from her ruptured form. She lashed out at him with a power word, but space rippled around him and the syllables evaporated impotently.
He held her again. "You’ll have to do better than that," he said. "You’re one of Soneillon’s whores, aren’t you?"
I was.
"And whom do you serve now?"
Myself.
"But you still remain in communication with your former mistress?"
Amongst others. I have many contacts.
"I think that it is time that you were honest with me," King Irknaan smiled thinly.
There are a number of demons whom I can sue for help.
But at what cost? Irknaan mused. His grip on Afqithan, although relatively solid, would rapidly become tenuous if powerful demons with unknown agendas began appearing. More powerful demons with unknown agendas, he considered, as he observed Lehurze.
"What do you suggest, Lehurze?" He released her again, and her form became limp. She coughed dark bile.
"An alliance, whilst it remains to our mutual benefit."
"If you seek to supplant Nhura, then I would warn you: she is deadly. Do you have designs on Afqithan?"
"Every succubus desires to be a queen, Irknaan."
He had read her accurately – perhaps more accurately than she had read herself. Arcanists who came to Afqithan always reacted the same way. Whatever their initial view of the little demiplane – a parochial backwater, inward-looking and insignificant – they rapidly became enamoured.
The exhilaration of spellcasting was too much to resist. The magical power which coursed through everything. The effortless joy of manifesting. The dark, brooding beauty of the place.
A feeling of enormous poignancy threatened to overcome Irknaan. He would rather die a thousand times than surrender his kingdom to any other.
"I do not trust you one iota," he said to her.
"That is wise," she replied.
So he laid a geas on her, and bound her to him, which suited Lehurze well enough. Passivity was her oldest friend, and her greatest ally.
*Mostin rarely, if ever, fills every spell slot in the morning, preferring the flexibility of a quick fifteen or thirty minutes to cram another spell if required. He is usually at around two-thirds capacity. That morning, he was fully primed, and had an intelligence of 40 (he was under the effect of a trebly empowered fox’s cunning, further empowered and maximized by the magical trait of the plane): save DCs against his spells were as high as he could get them. He had just reached 20th level, and was relishing the power that it afforded: if it came to blows, the general tactic was to deploy fortitude-targeting spells, negating the evasion ability of the umbral feys and simultaneously forcing their weakest save.
