D&D 5E Tales From The Awning Pothole

[BoldItalic]

So. do we roll initiative then or what..............................

"You want the entire city to roll for initiative? Do you have any idea how long that would take?"

"You could do groups?"

"Still no good. The Guild of Bakers would want to bake their own rolls for a start. You have no idea how hard it is to run a city sometimes."

"You seem to manage."

"Exactly. That's what I do. I'm senior management."

"We could suddenly attack you without rolling intiative. There are precedents," said Tahsa darkly.

"I know what you did to Mirzak. That was uncalled-for. Your DM shouldn't have allowed it."

"There is no DM. There is only me."

For the first time, Ming Vahz looked unsure of herself. "What do you mean, there is no DM? That is not possible. It would be anarchy."

"Works for us."

"But, but, who runs all my courtiers and guards and ... who is running me?"

"No-one."

"No-one? No-one??? But ... But ...

At this point, Footnote, who hadn't met Ming before and didn't know how dangerous she was, played a little melody on his pan-pipes and suggested with his most charming smile that perhaps the beautiful lady would care to dance? Ming was taken aback slightly but if there was one thing she was good at, it was footwork and she'd never danced with a half-satyr before. She laughed and graciously accepted. After all, she could have them all killed later.

Footnote played a tricky melody with a complex rhythm that went ti-ti-TUM-ti-TUM-ti, ti-ti-TUM-ti-TUM-ti, and he tapped his hoof on every "TUM". Ming quickly adapted to the odd six-step and she whirled around with Footnote, matching his every move expertly. As they went faster and faster, to the applause of the onlookers, some sort of resonance happened in the air between them. Something mystical happened. A part of Footnote's mind, the part that Tasha and Goatee had 'seen' beneath the surface, burst forth like a flower from its bud. Footnote transcended. There is no other word for it. He multiclassed and gained one level of UA Mystic3, Order of the Avatar, with the Mystic Charm talent and with Mantle of Awe, Mantle of Courage, and Mantle of Joy as his Disciplines. He was going places in the charm stakes. Ming failed saving throw afer saving throw and was captivated. She was putty in his hands. She dropped her guard, her eyes dancing with delight.

Tasha Detached and checked with Goatee.

Now?

Now. Strike swiftly. Sever that nerve bundle, under there.

Tasha's halberd nodded and, with a deft 'movement', it sliced there.

Ming felt something happen in her mind but shrugged it off. She was too bound up in the dance. The scent of satyr filled her nostrils like a drug. Gradually, Footnote slowed the pace. His music quietened. The dance ended and he released Ming. She knew she had been charmed but she didn't care. She felt young again.

The frolic over, Ming returned to her role as Sorcerer King. She ruled a city. Her old adversaries were a reminder of a time when she was weaker and easily defeated. They could not be allowed to live. She must show no weakness before the under-lords of the city. She raised her Orb and unleashed a mighty spell that would instantly annihilate the five adventurers. She intoned the Word of Death and ...

... nothing happened. She tried a lesser spell, and again nothing happened. She tried to summon a Mage Hand and ... nothing happened.

"Something wrong?" enquired Tasha, "Sorcery not working any more for you? Never mind, eh? You've put lots of levels into Monk, I expect? We're only level 7 or 8 and there are only the five of us ..."

With a scream of fury, Ming rained a flurry of blows onto Tasha's armour. But Tasha had the Heavy Armour Master feat and many of the blows were absorbed harmlessly. Thwarted, Ming fled with blinding speed to the safety of her palace, leaving our friends free to enter the city.

"How about, the first thing we do is, we find a tavern?" suggested Footnote.

"Good idea," agreed Albert, pocketing Ming's Orb.

It had been an ordinary morning in the Skull's Head Tavern ...

 

[rgoodbb]

It had been an ordinary morning in the Skull's Head Tavern ...

...On the menu was Mekillot Pie, Mekillot Stew, Mekillot Soup and fermented Mekillot Ale. When a Mekillot dies nearby, everyone profits. However, it is not the nicest taste in this world. Rubbery meat with a cardboard flavour was getting very boring, but Trik-Chit had to serve it until it went sour. She could not afford not to. Trik-Chit was the best Woman of the Bar in Tyr. The way her four arms (not forearms) made cocktails was simply amazing to watch.

She looked around. It wasn't much. A Sleeping Half-Giant and a Smelly Human, a Belching Mul and a Growling Dwarf. These were her four favourite cocktails to make and yet no-one ever came in for a cocktail anymore. It was a dying trade but that was actually quite useful, for Trik-Chit was not only a Woman of the bar, she was also a.......

....The door to the tavern swung open, the sun blinded to top half of the room leaving the bottom in shadows. Dust particles were immediately obvious everywhere as the light drew attention to them all. In walked six figures. One with the head of a goat, another with cloven hoof, one more with tenticled arm. Were these poor souls the victims of corruption? were they some of the New Beasts that Athas was seeing?

She saw an opportunity here. A chance to revisit the old days. "This is a cocktail lounge ladies and gentlemen. What are your pleasures?

Rikus - Uh Just water for my master.
Tasha - Oh, um, I'll have a..............
Goatee - A....................................
Albert - D'you know I might try a.....
Footnote - Same as........................
Adeliva - What do you suggest?.......

 

[BoldItalic]

Tasha ordered a Bladeswinger, Goatee ordered a Magic Roundabout, Albert ordered a Sleight of Hand, Adeliva settled for a Mountain Ash and Footnote sighed and got out his pan-pipes because nobody had any Tyrrian money and he was going to have to earn it for them by performing in bars.

Suddenly, the doors swung open again with a swing and a troop of city guards trooped in. Their shields were emblazoned with the city blazon, their tabards were sparkling white and they wore mind-shielding helmets that looked the same as ordinary helmets but with extra horns. The captain of the guard pointed an accusing finger at Footnote. "Arrest that man!" he cried.

Footnote was taken aback. He had barely started to perform and surely it wasn't that bad. "On what charge?" he demanded, because that's what people always say when they are told they are being arrested.

"Dancing without a licence is a capital offence, and doing it with the Sorcerer King is high treason for which the penalty is a week in gaol, so we'll keep you in prison for a week and then execute you." Turning to his men, he ordered "Put him in irons."

Tasha wasn't having this. She squared up to the Captain and growled "Over my dead body," in best melodramatic fashion. She flourished her halberd to show she meant business. Meanwhile, Albert was unobtrusively stealing the Captain's sword from its scabbard and Goatee was conjuring a replica of his helmet, which meant, of course, that because of the Law of Conjurservation, the Captain's actual helmet vanished from his head.

"Oh no," cried Adeliva, for she had seen what was going to happen next. "Not the fireball! I'm vulnerable to fire!" and in a panic she quickly cast Create Water, causing it to start raining inside the tavern.

This had a remarkable effect on the troop of troops. To a man, they took off their helmets and started catching the precious raindrops in them. They didn't catch much, about half a pint each, but it was enough to ruin the mind-shielding circuits that had been cunningly wrought into their linings.

"Stop this madness"! shouted the Captain, "You are all under arrest! Put them all in irons!"

"Er, Captain?"

"What is it, Sergeant?"

"We don't seem to have any."

 

[rgoodbb]

"We don't seem to have any."

"Any what?"

"Any old irons? Any old irons?
Any, any, any, old irons?
You look neat. Talk about a treat!
You look so dapper from your napper to your feet.…"

"What the blazes is going on here!" Demanded the Captain who hadn't yet realised that he was shimmying from side to side jazz-waving his hat."

"Footnooooote?" asked Tasha.

The Bard was both smirking and smoking a bong at the same time. My he thought, this tobacco is making me feel a little hazy.

With the guard finally danced into a stupor, Trik-Chit banged the side of the bar and then hit a part of the wall. A secret door slid open. "Come with me if you wish to live" Her antennas seemed to say. Everyone understood and followed the barkeep who was clearly more than a waitress in a cocktail bar.

The passageway curled down into the under-tunnels of Tyr. After a time, Trik-Chit stopped, turned to the group and in a very serious voice stated. "I have a message for you..........................."

 

[BoldItalic]

"I have a message for you..........................."

Meet me in the ringing cave at midday. Borys returns.

"Who is the message from?"

"I cannot say."

"Where is the ringing cave?"

"I will lead you there. It is not safe to linger on the way."

"Who is Borys?"

"All will be explained."

They followed in silence through a maze of twisty passages all alike. Albert memorised the route and noted that in places there were chalk marks on the walls, mostly saying "not this way". Eventually, they came to a heavy stone slab that acted as a door. Trik-Chit did something subtle, pressing four places at once, and the door swung aside. Beyond was a cavern dimly-lit with a radiance that seemed to spring from a pedestal in the centre but, strangely, it cast no shadows.

"Wait in the light. It is ten minutes to midday," signalled Trik-Chit. "I must leave quickly before my absence is noticed."

"Well," began Tasha, "What do we make of this?"

"Some sort of clandestine meeting. Perhaps someone who can help us."

"Or someone who seeks our help."

"If this is supposed to be the singing cave, why can't we hear any singing?"

"Perhaps we are supposed to do the singing. Maybe it's a cave for singing in?

"Someone's coming!"

A half-man stepped into the light. "Who returns?" he asked.

Tasha had a sudden insight. "Borys returns," she replied.

The half-man seemed satisfied. "We have been watching you since you arrived. You five have survived everything that our enemies have thrown at you. You could be useful to us in our struggle."

"What struggle is that? And what do you offer in return?"

"We seek to overthrow the tyranny of Ming Vahz and her consort Bar-De-Door. They and their templars oppress the people cruelly and the city is close to economic collapse. We have the support of ... some of the guilds. If you will join us, after we seize power you will each be rewarded with as much gold as you can carry and plane-shifted back to your home world."

"And if we refuse?"

"You will die. Here. In this cave."

"Who is Borys?"

"A legendary ruler who transformed into a dragon to guard his enemy but was slain thousands of years ago. Some say that he will return in the city's hour of need. We use the slogan Borys Returns to give our followers courage."

"A dragon, you say? We have passing knowledge of dragons."

"You are full of surprises. Can I take it that you will join us?"

Tasha consulted the others. It didn't take long.

"We'll start after lunch. What's the plan?"

"We need you to assassinate one of the templars. A man called Forlam. You will be given directions to his quarters."

"After we kill him, can we take his stuff?"

"If you wish. He is utterly corrupt and surrounds himself with the finest works of art, looted from the homes of the citizens whom he falsely imprisons and murders."

"Alright, give us his address."

"All in good time. I must warn you ..."

 

[rgoodbb]

"All in good time. I must warn you ..."

".........We don't like to be disappointed. I must also warn you that Forlam's mansion-house has the squeakiest floorboards that you did ever tread which will make your stealth mission all the more precarious. Forlam surrounds himself with security. His house and grounds are full of many varied tricks and traps. He has more locked doors and windows and gates than half of Tyr.

He has Templars, Half-Giants, Psion Mind-readers, Hounds, Gladiator Slaves and Magic. So much Magic. His sewer tunnels are grilled, alarmed and guarded. His spiked and greeced walls are 40 feet high and 30 feet under and 10 feet thick. His rooftops are smattered with poisoned tipped savage halfling archers that love the night, His mind is even active when he is sleeping, He is a skilled master in the Way, in Magic, in armed and unarmed combat and he has never been beaten in a fight.......But mostly, watch out for those damned squeaky floorboards.

"I think I have the beginnings of a plan." Stated Tasha, with a slowly curling smile. "Rikus. It involves you and your Potted Geranium. At Twelve Bells when lunch is being served at the mansion, I need you to............"

 

[BoldItalic]

I need you to............

" ....... wait here as our anchorman. It is very important that we have somewhere to come back to." As she said this, Tasha noticed Albert listening intently. More intently than people usually listen. She tried to read his mind and - it wasn't there. Just like the geranium. To her telepathic senses, Albert wasn't there. All the others were there, just not him. Was he mentally stealthed?

"Albert, have you gone stealthy?" she wondered out loud.

"Er ... sorry, I was just practising. How did you know? Wasn't it working?"

"Oh yes, it was working. But I just noticed a complete absence of Alberts. That's how I knew."

"Hmm. I must work on that."

"What's going on?" asked Adeliva. "Albert is right there. We can see him."

"We can't see his mind. He's gone psionically stealthy."

"Oh, wow! I didn't see that coming."

"So it works, then."

"Pity we can't all do it," Goatee suggested. "Be great for scouting out the templar's place."

"I can project my mind," suggested Tasha, "but I can't make it hidden. Albert can hide his mind but he would have to walk around with it. Adeliva can expect the unexpected. Footnote can control people. Goat can make stuff happen. What we need is ... a way to ... mind meld ... five ways ... into one ... awesome entity ... that can do ... all the things ..."

"... ?"

"Can we do it?"

YES !

Budge over a bit, it's crowded in here.

Watch where you're putting your feet!

I can't see much. Is it always dark in here?

Keep still, I'm trying to move Us around.

Whee! Not so fast!

Is that what we are called? Us?

Sounds good to me.

There is movement. Where is Us going?

Shields up. The mansion is just ahead.

There are archers on the roof.

They are of no concern.

There are slaves in the hall. Behind that curtain.

They are of no concern.

How do we find the templar?

He is radiating power. There

His mind is shielded. Like a helmet of silver.

He keeps his mind guarded at all times.

But not his body.

He relies on magic for that.

There is a weakness. There.

Where?

See those thoughts, running up and down in his chest? They are the unconscious thoughts of his autonomic nervous system. He is not aware of them and has not shielded them.

They do not say anything.

No, but they are keeping him alive.

What happens if we make them stop?

Let's find out. Halberd, slice there and there.

In his study, surrounded by the treasures he had looted and guarded against every form of magic, physical intrusion and psionic forces known to the templars, Forlam cried out once, collapsed and died of a heart attack. All attempts to revive him failed. They put it down to old age.

So, that's done, How do we get back to our bodies?

We return to where Rikus is waiting with the geranium. He is our anchor. There.

"That was amazing," said Goatee. "Did we really do that, or did we imagine it?"

"We'll soon find out," murmured Albert. "Here comes that Borys Returns fellow."

"I'm sorry," said the mysterious revolutionary, "the mission is off. It seems that Forlam has just died of old age so there's no need for you to bother. We'll find something else for you to do."

"Not so fast," said Tasha. "It wasn't old age. We know. We were there. We cut through the nerves going to his heart, inside his chest. We killed him for you, fair and square."

"Why should I believe this absurd claim?"

"Show him, Footnote."

And Footnote did ...

 

[rgoodbb]

And Footnote did ...

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh! OK, Ok, Ok I believe you. Us. We. All of you. Melded as one. I believe it. I Just, Just.............Don't do that to me again. Ever. You are truly more powerful together than, than, than even.....A Sorcerer King! You, you you.....are dangerous. A power like this is too monstrous to think of. Too powerful for such a small group to control. You, You will lay waste to the whole world. You must be stopped. You must be stopped!" And with that, he ran off.

"Strange fellow that."

"Hmm. Indeed."

"He is right though. We were badass there. How did that happen anyway?"

"Not any way but the Way."

"How did we get so powerful so fast?"

"We had a teacher. A mentor called Will."

"I thought you were being funny like, you know, your will."

"No I actully know a guy called Will who is actually helping us."

"How do you know they're not evil Tasha?"

Yes how do you know I'm not evil Tasha?

"Well.............Oh . I don't. OK who are you? ....Your name's not Will is it?"

No it most certainly is not. I am Raj........

 

[BoldItalic]

I am Rajaat ........

Goatee hastily consulted the 5e Dark Sun Campaign Guide. "Rajaat, the first sorcerer king, imprisoned in The Hollow by Borys, who became a dragon but was eventually slain by the magic sword Scourge, that was crafted by Rajaat himself. There's irony for you."

"It wasn't quite like that," interjected Rikus, who was still holding the geranium. "I didn't actually use Scourge."

"Er ... is there something you want to tell us, Rikus?" asked Adeliva tactfully.

"I didn't really kill Borys. We just made it look like that, so he could get away for a bit. He needed a holiday."

"So, Borys could actually return?"

"He will, when the time is right. That will probably be quite soon if you people carry on the way you have been."

There was a psychic howl of rage from Rajaat, when he heard these words. "It cannot be! My plans are laid! My puppet king Ming Vahz and her consort Bar-de-Door have only to enact the Ritual of Unbinding and I shall be free to take back the entire land that was mine! Nothing shall stand in my way! You must slay Borys! I command it!"

"Looks like it's time to pick sides," mused Tasha.

"As I see it," ventured Albert, "Ming Vahz and Bar-De-Door are our enemies already and if Rajaat is in league with them, he is our enemy too. Plus, I don't like the way he's trying to order us about."

"I agree," said Goatee. "If Borys is Rajaat's enemy, we should ally with him if we can. And Rikus seems to be a friend of Borys too."

"Any views on this?" Tasha asked Footnote and Adeliva.

"I've no axe to grind regarding the Bar-De-Door character," offered Footnote, "but we have already fought Ming Vahz and rendered her harmless. We should finish the job. Besides, it makes a better story that way. Our fight with Ming will have presaged what is yet to come."

Sensing the mood, Adeliva added her voice. "I do not know Bar-De-Door either but if he is oppressing the people of this city, I will fight him too."

"We are all agreed, then. I shall summon Borys and we, Us, shall do battle with Bar-De-Door and Ming Vahz. I wonder what became of their henchman Char-Ging? Or shall we find her in control of the city treasury?"

"Er .." began Goatee, "When I last saw her, she was on the Isle of Luin in, er, a flock. Yes, it was a flock."

"What, seagulls?"

"Not exactly. More, er, quadrupedal. Somewhat. Apparently, the King of Luin, whose name was Ballnard, took a dislike to her demands and turned her into a goat. He was a sorcerer, you see, so he knew the right spells. I suppose you could say he was a Sorcerer King. Funny how things come around, isn't it?"

"Thank you, Goat, that's one less thing to worry about. Bar-De-Door is our real enemy. Let's hope the Norns have dumped him." So saying, Tasha twirled her magic halberd and there was a rushing of wings as a dragon arrived. Except it wasn't Borys ...

 

[BoldItalic]

It was Mušḫuššu and he some messages to deliver. One was from Tippy, to say that he was still looking for The Slaven of Estramos and if they came across any clues, to please let him know. The other was from Marduk, the god of Babylon, to the effect that they needed to get a move on with the Bar-De-Door thing because the fate of the worlds rested on their shoulders and things were getting a bit iffy.

Tasha explained the situation and what they were planning to do. "So, let me get this right," repeated Mušḫuššu, "You're going to combine into a five-fold entity of pure thought that can move freely around, is undetectable, can foresee the future, and has the power to destroy the minds of whoever you take a dislike to?"

"Since you put it like that, yes."

"And you're just going to wander into the palace of the sorcerer king and take out Ming Vahz and Bar-De-Door, just like that?"

"Yes ..."

"You don't think they might have seers who might be expecting you, and send soldiers to slay your unguarded bodies?

"Well, we ..."

"Amateurs," snorted Mušḫuššu. "Haven't any of you thought about using the Rope Trick spell?

"Er, I think I have a scroll somewhere ..." offered Goatee, rummaging in his Bag of Book Holding. "I found it in the library in Castle Feece."

Mušḫuššu said "I suggest you use it, then," and left as abruptly as he had arrived.

Goatee cast the Rope Trick spell and, as reaction, all the cacti in Mirzak's tower suddenly stopped glowing. Then everyone, including Rikus, climbed up the rope and they shut the trapdoor to seal themselves off from the mundane world. "We will be safe here, but only for one hour," Goatee warned them.

Here we are again. It seemed easier that time.

Have we got a passenger?

I brought Coda along. In case of trouble.

"Hi," said Coda. "Are we famous yet?"

Not yet. Are we ready?

Stealthy Let's go!

There's the palace, there.

Grand, isn't it?

That's Bar-De-Door. There.

Oh-Oh. He knows we're here ...

We meet again, thought Bar-De-Door. Or, in some cases, for the first time. I believe you know my consort, Ming Vahz?