INTERLUDE: A MEETING WITH HIREK
PC Roster:
Game Session Date: 27 February 2019
- - -
Syngaard was throwing out a client from Kat's establishment - he was drunk and becoming abusive to the girls who worked there, and Kat wasn't about to put up with any of that nonsense - when a message from Skevros came to the scarred fighter over his iron ring. "Hirek wishes to speak to all of us," was all the king's adviser said.
"Well, that sucks," grumbled Syngaard. First of all, if Hirek - one of the heroes who adventured with Zehkar the paladin several centuries back and who still walked among the living as a ghost - just wanted to talk, that didn't sound like no paying mission. But equally as important, Syngaard was busy at his other job and didn't want to have to cut short the beating this drunken idiot had earned himself. But still, Syngaard knew his place: when both of his bosses - Madame Katarina and King Leornic the Third - required his attention, the king always won out.
"Sorry, Kat," he said, throwing the drunken lout to the ground outside Kat's building and giving him a swift kick in the side for good measure. "I gotta go." Then he turned his attention back to the drunk. "And if I find out you tried comin' back in here and botherin' the girls, well then me and Mister Pokey are going to have some further words with you." He hefted his morningstar in front of the drunk's face to drive his point home. The point was apparently well made, for the drunk crawled rapidly away, staggering to his feet once he was out of Syngaard's immediate reach. He favored the bald fighter with a look of hatred but opted not to make an issue of it, at least sober enough to realize that wasn't a fight he was likely to walk away from alive. Syngaard stepped back into the building and went to his room to gear up - maybe he'd get lucky and this would be a paying mission after all. A guy could hope, couldn't he?
Sadly, any hopes Syngaard might have had along the lines of incoming financial transactions were not to be. He arrived at the Enchanted Flagon - the last to do so, as usual - to find the other conscripts already sitting around the round table looking over at Skevros and Hirek. Syngaard gave the ghost a good look-over; this was, after all, some sort of grandfather (there were likely a bunch of "greats" in there, but Syngaard had no idea just how many) of his dead wife, Messalina. But try as he might, Syngaard didn't see much of Mezz in the ghost of Hirek. Probably too many generations between the two.
"I have found out some interesting things about the Mithral Mage's phylactery," Hirek began as Syngaard took a seat at the table. Unasked, Karen placed a mug of strong ale in front of the bald fighter. Syngaard took a sip and winked his appreciation at the barmaid, despite knowing she was nothing more than a permanent spell effect created by Skevros. Still, the wizard had talent, Syngaard had to give him that: Karen could easily pass for a human woman - and a particularly good-looking one at that, even if she couldn't speak a word. But then, Syngaard reasoned, it's not like a silent woman was any kind of a drawback or anything....
He drew his attention back to what the ghost was saying, even though it was unlikely any of it would matter much to the scarred fighter. "...Just as powerful wizards can scry upon their familiars," Hirek was saying, "powerful liches can scry upon their phylacteries. The Mithral Mage's phylactery is unusual, in that it isn't a physical object as most are; rather it is made up of the souls of all of those who are aware of his true name."
"But we know his true name!" exclaimed Orion, a worried look upon her face. "We all do!"
"I am well aware," commiserated Hirek. "And as such, your souls are bound into his phylactery. As a result, when you die, you will be prevented from passing on to your hallowed rest, but will instead be subsumed into his osteovox, or forced to remain as a ghost, as is the case with both Tenryu and myself." Tenryu was the dragon who had adventured with Hirek and Zehkar in human form; she was the one who passed her own tenryutsume to Kaspar.
"Wait a minute," Syngaard sputtered, nearly choking on his ale as the ramifications of what Hirek had just said finally hit home. "We ain't goin' on to Heaven when we die? 'Cause of this Mithral Ass-Clown?"
"That is correct. However, the situation is potentially fluid. We have reason to believe..." But Syngaard had stopped listening - and stopped drinking the ale sitting right there in front of him, a sure sign that his mind was racing and he was channeling all of his concentration into thinking things through. No Heaven when he died? That meant no reuniting with Mezz! It was bad enough being left behind to live out the rest of his normal lifespan after she had died, but now to have her kept from him after he'd died, too? That was too much!
"I'm gonna kill him!" Syngaard roared, standing up with enough force that his chair went scooting back several feet behind him. Somehow, in the motion of standing up, his morningstar had found its place in his hand and he was breathing hard, as if already in the throes of combat. Kaspar put a restraining hand upon the fighter's shoulder, gently pulling him back down as his other hand brought the chair back behind him. "We will all see to his eventual, permanent death," the monk reassured Syngaard. "Hirek will tell us how best we can achieve that goal." Syngaard allowed himself to be reseated and turned his head to face Hirek's ghost, giving him his full attention. The ale sat unnoticed on the table before him.
"Although drained of power, the spirits of those dead souls burdened with the knowledge of Alexandros's name can combine their wills and it may be possible, in time, to overpower the Mithral Mage's will, destroy the phylactery, and thus free themselves to their normal afterlives," Hirek said. "In that respect, it's actually a good thing that more people know his true name; I had at one point thought obscuring his name from history would remove his power, but it seems the opposite is true."
"Maybe we should start putting up signs," smirked Galen. "'The Mithral Mage is really named Alexandros'."
"But in the meantime, he can scry on any of us at will?" Orion asked, apparently not liking that idea given the way she shivered when she said it. Syngaard was puzzled at that bit; apparently he'd missed out on some discussion when his mind was off thinking about Mezz.
"He can - and there doesn't seem to be anything we can do about that. We must therefore press forward with the understanding that he will be privy to all of our plans." Galen frowned at the word "privy," thinking of a different type of privy entirely and realizing that at any moment, the Mithral Mage could be watching over him and everything he did. That was a disturbing thought indeed!
Hirek continued his briefing. "As for the osteovox rituals that the Mithral Mage employs, it is tied into his phylactery as well. Originally, the purpose of osteovox was to draw information from the subconscious minds of those who knew his true name - and recall, originally these were people still alive at that point. As they died and were prevented from reaching their intended afterlives, the effects of osteovox changed. The skeletal animation effect - caused by ingesting osteovox - is likely the dead souls of his phylactery trying desperately to escape. I doubt the Mithral Mage intended for others to know about osteovox or how to make it - it was a discovery he made on his own, and one he intended to keep to himself."
"And yet you knew of it," said Daleth, looking over at Skevros.
"I did," admitted Skevros. "However, I am still uncertain as to how I learned of it. This was back when I was evil, the result of the magical helm, and was actively a Seeker of Eternity myself. My memories of that time are still unclear."
"That's something else worth mentioning," Hirek cut in. "The original Seekers of Eternity died out a couple of years after the imprisonment of the Mithral Mage in Dwarven Hell. The current organization bearing the name was likely founded by someone who stumbled across one of the Mithral Mage's lairs. This is also likely how they learned of osteovox and its uses. Its use as a conduit for Alexandros's own soul is probably why he has allowed its use; with this new group performing osteovox rituals, it allows Alexandros to inhabit a willing ritual participant, and thus his spirit can inhabit a body here on the Material Plane while his lich body remains in Dwarven Hell."
"And why is his body there again?" asked Galen.
"Because we - Osleth, Tenryu, and I, after Zehkar had been turned to solid mithral after slaying Alexandros - finally made a deal with the Hope-Ender to trap him there, thinking that would put an end to his depredations. We were unaware of the 'escape clause' provided by osteovox rituals."
"What can you tell us of Alexandros himself?" asked Skevros. "The more we know of him, the better informed we'll be about methods of fighting him." As he spoke, the king's adviser realized the Mithral Mage could easily be listening in to everything being said and would know exactly what they were learning about him - but it couldn't be helped.
"As you know, Alexandros was Zehkar's younger brother," Hirek replied. "He was a sickly lad, one who saw the world divided into two types of people - those he knew and cared about and those who were beneath him - but we allowed him to adventure with us anyway. And he was originally a good sort; he nearly died once saving his brother's life. But then Zehkar, fearful of his little brother's declining health, forbade him from adventuring with us any further. That was likely a mistake; isolation from the rest of us led to his obsession with immortality, thinking it would allow him to be with his brother again. After all, he was too frail to go out on adventures with his beloved brother, but if he could become immortal, incapable of being killed? How could we say no to him then?"
Hirek eyed Syngaard's ignored mug of ale, as if recalling the pleasures of being able to eat and drink back when he was alive. He continued, "Alexandros achieved lichdom upon being slain - that hadn't been his original path to immortality - and then from that point on we were determined to slay the undead menace he had become. But despite our numerous attempts to destroy him, Alexandros never really tried to kill us. In his mind, he seemed to think it was all just a game. He knew we couldn't permanently destroy him so he focused on humiliating us. Osleth, in particular, grew very tired of being constantly polymorphed into a chicken...." Syngaard snarled to himself at the memory of Alexandros shrinking him down to halfling size the last time they'd fought him, and his grip tightened unconsciously on his morningstar.
"His imprisonment in Dwarven Hell has likely driven him a little mad," Hirek continued, "as he seems to be treating your group of adventurers as if you were my own group - the one Zehkar was a part of. However, he'll likely start taking your group more seriously once he realizes you know how his phylactery works."
"I'm still a little fuzzy on that," admitted Galen sheepishly.
"I'll explain it again later," Daleth promised, mentally dismissing the ability of humans to understand higher-level concepts.
"In any case, Alexandros will no doubt elevate your group from 'surrogate friends' to 'a dangerous threat' very soon, if he hasn't done so already. You can expect a change in his tactics accordingly. In short, he's done playing with you - now he's going to be going for blood."
"Well, let him!" snarled Syngaard. "'Cause we're gonna be doin' the same!"
"Liches don't bleed," Daleth pointed out condescendingly. The elf studiously ignored the glare Syngaard turned in his direction.
"In any case, I thought it best that you were all forewarned," Hirek said, pulling the gray hood up back over his head as he stood up and prepared to depart. As a ghost, "depart" often meant "shift to the Ethereal Plane and do your traveling there" - a concept Orion was becoming rather familiar with herself, now that she rode a ghost-dog into battle.
"Thank you," Skevros said on the group's behalf. "We will do what we can to protect ourselves from the Mithral Mage in the meantime, while we try to find a way to end him permanently." Hirek nodded his agreement and faded away.
"That was interesting," Daleth said, pondering the implications.
"And horrifying!" Orion added. "I don't like the thought of my soul being part of the Mithral Mage's phylactery!"
At that, Syngaard allowed himself a slight smile and started to become his old self again - if only a bit. "Well, you don't gotta worry," he said, smirking down at Orion. "Halflings don't have no souls."
- - -
Logan scripted this bit of info-dump at our request; we were starting to get a bit fuzzy on some of the back story of the Seekers of Eternity. I knew the Hope-Ender was the one who had imprisoned the Mithral Mage in Dwarven Hell, for example, but I had forgotten why he wanted to wipe out Hirek's blood-line - which includes Syngaard's infant daughter Hope. (It's because once that's done he'll be able to open permanent gates from the Nine Hells to the Material Plane. I'm still a little fuzzy on how that works; magic, I guess, which is all the explanation Syngaard ever needs. He understands that magic is just weird.) After role-playing through Hirek's briefing, which included a question-and-answer session which allowed us to help cement what all was going on in this campaign, we advanced the campaign clock by a week and went through the actual adventure Logan had prepared for us for that session. I'll do that up as a separate entry.
PC Roster:
Daleth Stormsea, elf wizard 11
Galen Thorne, human paladin 12
Kaspar Hardstrike, elf monk 12
Orion Nightsky, halfling rogue 12
Syngaard, human fighter 12
Galen Thorne, human paladin 12
Kaspar Hardstrike, elf monk 12
Orion Nightsky, halfling rogue 12
Syngaard, human fighter 12
Game Session Date: 27 February 2019
- - -
Syngaard was throwing out a client from Kat's establishment - he was drunk and becoming abusive to the girls who worked there, and Kat wasn't about to put up with any of that nonsense - when a message from Skevros came to the scarred fighter over his iron ring. "Hirek wishes to speak to all of us," was all the king's adviser said.
"Well, that sucks," grumbled Syngaard. First of all, if Hirek - one of the heroes who adventured with Zehkar the paladin several centuries back and who still walked among the living as a ghost - just wanted to talk, that didn't sound like no paying mission. But equally as important, Syngaard was busy at his other job and didn't want to have to cut short the beating this drunken idiot had earned himself. But still, Syngaard knew his place: when both of his bosses - Madame Katarina and King Leornic the Third - required his attention, the king always won out.
"Sorry, Kat," he said, throwing the drunken lout to the ground outside Kat's building and giving him a swift kick in the side for good measure. "I gotta go." Then he turned his attention back to the drunk. "And if I find out you tried comin' back in here and botherin' the girls, well then me and Mister Pokey are going to have some further words with you." He hefted his morningstar in front of the drunk's face to drive his point home. The point was apparently well made, for the drunk crawled rapidly away, staggering to his feet once he was out of Syngaard's immediate reach. He favored the bald fighter with a look of hatred but opted not to make an issue of it, at least sober enough to realize that wasn't a fight he was likely to walk away from alive. Syngaard stepped back into the building and went to his room to gear up - maybe he'd get lucky and this would be a paying mission after all. A guy could hope, couldn't he?
Sadly, any hopes Syngaard might have had along the lines of incoming financial transactions were not to be. He arrived at the Enchanted Flagon - the last to do so, as usual - to find the other conscripts already sitting around the round table looking over at Skevros and Hirek. Syngaard gave the ghost a good look-over; this was, after all, some sort of grandfather (there were likely a bunch of "greats" in there, but Syngaard had no idea just how many) of his dead wife, Messalina. But try as he might, Syngaard didn't see much of Mezz in the ghost of Hirek. Probably too many generations between the two.
"I have found out some interesting things about the Mithral Mage's phylactery," Hirek began as Syngaard took a seat at the table. Unasked, Karen placed a mug of strong ale in front of the bald fighter. Syngaard took a sip and winked his appreciation at the barmaid, despite knowing she was nothing more than a permanent spell effect created by Skevros. Still, the wizard had talent, Syngaard had to give him that: Karen could easily pass for a human woman - and a particularly good-looking one at that, even if she couldn't speak a word. But then, Syngaard reasoned, it's not like a silent woman was any kind of a drawback or anything....
He drew his attention back to what the ghost was saying, even though it was unlikely any of it would matter much to the scarred fighter. "...Just as powerful wizards can scry upon their familiars," Hirek was saying, "powerful liches can scry upon their phylacteries. The Mithral Mage's phylactery is unusual, in that it isn't a physical object as most are; rather it is made up of the souls of all of those who are aware of his true name."
"But we know his true name!" exclaimed Orion, a worried look upon her face. "We all do!"
"I am well aware," commiserated Hirek. "And as such, your souls are bound into his phylactery. As a result, when you die, you will be prevented from passing on to your hallowed rest, but will instead be subsumed into his osteovox, or forced to remain as a ghost, as is the case with both Tenryu and myself." Tenryu was the dragon who had adventured with Hirek and Zehkar in human form; she was the one who passed her own tenryutsume to Kaspar.
"Wait a minute," Syngaard sputtered, nearly choking on his ale as the ramifications of what Hirek had just said finally hit home. "We ain't goin' on to Heaven when we die? 'Cause of this Mithral Ass-Clown?"
"That is correct. However, the situation is potentially fluid. We have reason to believe..." But Syngaard had stopped listening - and stopped drinking the ale sitting right there in front of him, a sure sign that his mind was racing and he was channeling all of his concentration into thinking things through. No Heaven when he died? That meant no reuniting with Mezz! It was bad enough being left behind to live out the rest of his normal lifespan after she had died, but now to have her kept from him after he'd died, too? That was too much!
"I'm gonna kill him!" Syngaard roared, standing up with enough force that his chair went scooting back several feet behind him. Somehow, in the motion of standing up, his morningstar had found its place in his hand and he was breathing hard, as if already in the throes of combat. Kaspar put a restraining hand upon the fighter's shoulder, gently pulling him back down as his other hand brought the chair back behind him. "We will all see to his eventual, permanent death," the monk reassured Syngaard. "Hirek will tell us how best we can achieve that goal." Syngaard allowed himself to be reseated and turned his head to face Hirek's ghost, giving him his full attention. The ale sat unnoticed on the table before him.
"Although drained of power, the spirits of those dead souls burdened with the knowledge of Alexandros's name can combine their wills and it may be possible, in time, to overpower the Mithral Mage's will, destroy the phylactery, and thus free themselves to their normal afterlives," Hirek said. "In that respect, it's actually a good thing that more people know his true name; I had at one point thought obscuring his name from history would remove his power, but it seems the opposite is true."
"Maybe we should start putting up signs," smirked Galen. "'The Mithral Mage is really named Alexandros'."
"But in the meantime, he can scry on any of us at will?" Orion asked, apparently not liking that idea given the way she shivered when she said it. Syngaard was puzzled at that bit; apparently he'd missed out on some discussion when his mind was off thinking about Mezz.
"He can - and there doesn't seem to be anything we can do about that. We must therefore press forward with the understanding that he will be privy to all of our plans." Galen frowned at the word "privy," thinking of a different type of privy entirely and realizing that at any moment, the Mithral Mage could be watching over him and everything he did. That was a disturbing thought indeed!
Hirek continued his briefing. "As for the osteovox rituals that the Mithral Mage employs, it is tied into his phylactery as well. Originally, the purpose of osteovox was to draw information from the subconscious minds of those who knew his true name - and recall, originally these were people still alive at that point. As they died and were prevented from reaching their intended afterlives, the effects of osteovox changed. The skeletal animation effect - caused by ingesting osteovox - is likely the dead souls of his phylactery trying desperately to escape. I doubt the Mithral Mage intended for others to know about osteovox or how to make it - it was a discovery he made on his own, and one he intended to keep to himself."
"And yet you knew of it," said Daleth, looking over at Skevros.
"I did," admitted Skevros. "However, I am still uncertain as to how I learned of it. This was back when I was evil, the result of the magical helm, and was actively a Seeker of Eternity myself. My memories of that time are still unclear."
"That's something else worth mentioning," Hirek cut in. "The original Seekers of Eternity died out a couple of years after the imprisonment of the Mithral Mage in Dwarven Hell. The current organization bearing the name was likely founded by someone who stumbled across one of the Mithral Mage's lairs. This is also likely how they learned of osteovox and its uses. Its use as a conduit for Alexandros's own soul is probably why he has allowed its use; with this new group performing osteovox rituals, it allows Alexandros to inhabit a willing ritual participant, and thus his spirit can inhabit a body here on the Material Plane while his lich body remains in Dwarven Hell."
"And why is his body there again?" asked Galen.
"Because we - Osleth, Tenryu, and I, after Zehkar had been turned to solid mithral after slaying Alexandros - finally made a deal with the Hope-Ender to trap him there, thinking that would put an end to his depredations. We were unaware of the 'escape clause' provided by osteovox rituals."
"What can you tell us of Alexandros himself?" asked Skevros. "The more we know of him, the better informed we'll be about methods of fighting him." As he spoke, the king's adviser realized the Mithral Mage could easily be listening in to everything being said and would know exactly what they were learning about him - but it couldn't be helped.
"As you know, Alexandros was Zehkar's younger brother," Hirek replied. "He was a sickly lad, one who saw the world divided into two types of people - those he knew and cared about and those who were beneath him - but we allowed him to adventure with us anyway. And he was originally a good sort; he nearly died once saving his brother's life. But then Zehkar, fearful of his little brother's declining health, forbade him from adventuring with us any further. That was likely a mistake; isolation from the rest of us led to his obsession with immortality, thinking it would allow him to be with his brother again. After all, he was too frail to go out on adventures with his beloved brother, but if he could become immortal, incapable of being killed? How could we say no to him then?"
Hirek eyed Syngaard's ignored mug of ale, as if recalling the pleasures of being able to eat and drink back when he was alive. He continued, "Alexandros achieved lichdom upon being slain - that hadn't been his original path to immortality - and then from that point on we were determined to slay the undead menace he had become. But despite our numerous attempts to destroy him, Alexandros never really tried to kill us. In his mind, he seemed to think it was all just a game. He knew we couldn't permanently destroy him so he focused on humiliating us. Osleth, in particular, grew very tired of being constantly polymorphed into a chicken...." Syngaard snarled to himself at the memory of Alexandros shrinking him down to halfling size the last time they'd fought him, and his grip tightened unconsciously on his morningstar.
"His imprisonment in Dwarven Hell has likely driven him a little mad," Hirek continued, "as he seems to be treating your group of adventurers as if you were my own group - the one Zehkar was a part of. However, he'll likely start taking your group more seriously once he realizes you know how his phylactery works."
"I'm still a little fuzzy on that," admitted Galen sheepishly.
"I'll explain it again later," Daleth promised, mentally dismissing the ability of humans to understand higher-level concepts.
"In any case, Alexandros will no doubt elevate your group from 'surrogate friends' to 'a dangerous threat' very soon, if he hasn't done so already. You can expect a change in his tactics accordingly. In short, he's done playing with you - now he's going to be going for blood."
"Well, let him!" snarled Syngaard. "'Cause we're gonna be doin' the same!"
"Liches don't bleed," Daleth pointed out condescendingly. The elf studiously ignored the glare Syngaard turned in his direction.
"In any case, I thought it best that you were all forewarned," Hirek said, pulling the gray hood up back over his head as he stood up and prepared to depart. As a ghost, "depart" often meant "shift to the Ethereal Plane and do your traveling there" - a concept Orion was becoming rather familiar with herself, now that she rode a ghost-dog into battle.
"Thank you," Skevros said on the group's behalf. "We will do what we can to protect ourselves from the Mithral Mage in the meantime, while we try to find a way to end him permanently." Hirek nodded his agreement and faded away.
"That was interesting," Daleth said, pondering the implications.
"And horrifying!" Orion added. "I don't like the thought of my soul being part of the Mithral Mage's phylactery!"
At that, Syngaard allowed himself a slight smile and started to become his old self again - if only a bit. "Well, you don't gotta worry," he said, smirking down at Orion. "Halflings don't have no souls."
- - -
Logan scripted this bit of info-dump at our request; we were starting to get a bit fuzzy on some of the back story of the Seekers of Eternity. I knew the Hope-Ender was the one who had imprisoned the Mithral Mage in Dwarven Hell, for example, but I had forgotten why he wanted to wipe out Hirek's blood-line - which includes Syngaard's infant daughter Hope. (It's because once that's done he'll be able to open permanent gates from the Nine Hells to the Material Plane. I'm still a little fuzzy on how that works; magic, I guess, which is all the explanation Syngaard ever needs. He understands that magic is just weird.) After role-playing through Hirek's briefing, which included a question-and-answer session which allowed us to help cement what all was going on in this campaign, we advanced the campaign clock by a week and went through the actual adventure Logan had prepared for us for that session. I'll do that up as a separate entry.