Reply to thread

Message: <blockquote data-quote="Sepulchrave II" data-source="post: 266319" data-attributes="member: 4303">Nope, although I've had vague aspirations in that direction in the past. I also agree that 90% of fantasy novels are utter crap.Cheiromancer:I've never had my writing analyzed for allegorical content before, and its quite enlightening. Given the group (Zen Humanist, Neo-Pagan, Lapsed Catholic, Party Animal and ex-Hippie), it's not surprising that some weird stuff sort of 'spontaneously arises.' I won't say who's who, but you can probably guess.[Is it ever really possible to play anyone other than yourself in an RPG?]Anyway, all comments are welcome. Especially nice ones<img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f642.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":)" title="Smile    :)"  data-smilie="1"data-shortname=":)" /> As this post reveals, things may be starting to unravel...  I haven't got the ELH yet, although I imagine I might need it pretty soon. Is the template any different from the one in 'Tome and Blood?'Anyway, 'Detect Magic' is a damn useful spell if used with a bit of inventiveness...**"What happened?" The Bishop of Hethio asked Lord Rede of Dramore."We are still unsure," Rede confessed. "I detailed Asser with scrying the events as they unfolded at Deorham. It appears that a powerful mage intervened and, later, a Celestial of great potency.""Mostin the Diabolist?""That seems likely," Rede concurred. "Devils were present. But why the Celestial? This is a terrible omen.""It is conceivable that it was bound to Mostin’s service unwillingly…" Hethio began."It was a Planetar for Heaven’s sake," Rede responded. "That hardly seems possible.""He has uncanny powers," Hethio said, "but I agree. More likely is that the scrying was somehow foiled. Powerful wizards can cause any image they desire to appear to an observer. Hence, we may never know the true course of events as they unfolded, or even if our sensor is revealing accurate information now.""In which case," Rede said, "Mostin – if it was him – would have kept his own presence secret. This hardly seems consistent.""Was he positively identified?""No. The wizard appeared in the guise of a Thalassine swordsman."Hethio thought for a moment. "No matter. In any case, we should begin circulating the rumour that Mostin the Diabolist has violated their precious Injunction. If nothing else, it will serve to smoke the real culprit out if it is not Mostin – which I doubt.""There is something else," Rede said slowly. "Tramst is gone.""He is on retreat," Hethio explained."No, he is gone." The knot of doubt in Rede’s stomach was quickly growing.**The next morning, Eadric sat in judgement at Deorham. Eleven Templars stood before him. Three more sat upon the floor, mumbling incomprehensibly in their madness."It’s hard to know exactly what to do," he said with disarming honesty. "I suppose I could return you to Morne, to tell the others at the Temple what happened.  I somehow doubt that any of you would be given the chance to speak, however. You would be considered ‘enchanted’ or ‘seduced’ at best, or maybe branded as heretics and anathematized - or worse."I had considered having you put to death: as feudal master of Deorham, let alone in light of my religious authority – which, hopefully, you now acknowledge – it would be well within my rights. You have committed murder. You illegally seized my estate. You have willingly closed your ears and eyes because it is the most expedient, convenient and easiest thing to do. Worst, you lack the courage to question your own convictions – which I don’t expect you to understand."If I show leniency and mercy, there is a danger that it will be considered a political act, designed to elicit popular support, and you will be regarded with suspicion. If I am stern, you will become martyrs to the cause."The Paladin sighed."I have decided that Urqual and the others who were rendered insensible in their efforts to open a ‘Gate’ will be taken to the Abbey of Osfrith – with the consent of the sisters, of course. They will be well cared for, and may, hopefully, come to peace with themselves in time. Whatever judgement was exacted upon them is beyond my remit, and I will not interfere."The rest of you are free to do exactly as you please. There are no constraints upon you. You may return to Morne, enter monasteries, become farmers, leave Wyre, or remain in my service. I leave the choice to you. If you choose the last, then Tahl will intercede for you, and you may atone. How you expiate your sins is a matter for him, yourselves and Oronthon."The Eleven Penants, who from that day dressed in unblazoned sable, became Eadric’s fiercest proponents.**Nwm, who had no stomach for the judgement – whichever course Eadric chose to follow – wandered with Nehael and Tostig in the trees near his glade. Three hundred acres were burned – although not all irretrievably. The largest oaks near his own sanctum were untouched, but he grieved the loss of many old friends as much or more than the Paladin’s servants.Determining through the medium of his torc exactly which trees were beyond his help, and would die despite any efforts he might make to save them, Nwm used ‘Plant Growth’ to cause saplings to shoot forth in their vicinity, and then enriched them with seeds of fertility."Now we just have to wait for two hundred years," he said to the Demoness."That’s not long," she smiled."The Planetar laid its hands on me when it ‘Restored’ me," Nwm said."Yes. I hope it doesn’t cause some kind of religious experience, and preempt your conversion to Oronthonianism. That would leave me looking rather stupid.""That will not happen," Nwm grinned. "Did you speak with Eniin?""There was no need." Nehael said."What exactly is your relationship with the Celestials, Nehael?" Nwm asked archly."We are on amicable enough terms," she replied. "Rintrah invited me to return to Oronthon’s Heaven, but I declined the offer.""You have spoken with the messenger?" Nwm asked."Several times, since this began.""Are you a double agent?" Nwm asked, half humourously."I am a free agent, Nwm. I am a contemplative, remember? Mysticism is mysticism at the end of the day. I care little for form.""Then why Uedii?""She is kind," Nehael answered. "And gentle, and forgiving. And ruthless and violent and uncompromising. I appreciate the paradox – it leads to realization. It is interesting to me that you find the same dichotomy in Oronthon difficult to accept.""I know Uedii. I do not know Oronthon.""Mostin would say that ‘gnosis’ is not enough.""Mostin is insane," Nwm said."Mostly," Nehael agreed. "But he is beyond all religious concerns. In that respect he is completely liberated.""And you?" Nwm inquired."I am the voice of moderation," she replied. "I represent the ‘Middle Way.’""And if there is no ‘Middle Way?’""Then you make one," she answered.**"She has conjured demons," Mostin said. "A goristro, a succubus, dretch, quasits, maybe others.""And what, exactly, do you propose we do about it Mostin?" Eadric asked. "She is nearly two thousand miles away. If I were to hunt down every diabolist and demon summoner within two thousand miles, I’d have a very busy – and probably brief – life.""Might I remind you that this particular demonist is the one responsible for Cynric’s dea…" Mostin began."We don’t know that," Eadric interrupted. "She may have no recollection of the events. I can hardly pass judgement on her for something that she would have done, had events transpired differently.""In any case," Mostin continued, "she is afflicting the local populace with necromancy, child sacrifice and other unspeakable rites. Do you feel no compunction to help?""I cannot be everywhere, and do everything. I’m sure that there are agencies in Shûth which can deal with her, if they choose to mobilize themselves."Mostin snorted. "I thought that you were supposed to fight wherever ‘evil presents itself.’ Two thousand miles is no excuse – with the mirror, distance is irrelevant."Eadric sighed. "Perhaps you should open a gate to the Abyss, and I should go through and start a campaign. After all, there is plenty of evil there, and distance is irrelevant.""Don’t be absurd. There is a difference," Mostin said. "We cannot conquer the Abyss, and we can end Feezuu’s threat. It would be doing a lot of people a big favour. The local community would appreciate it. The wider magical community would benefit from it.""And you would get to keep your ‘Robe of Eyes’ without fear of reprisals," Eadric said sardonically. Mostin fumed. "I’ve just violated…""…the Great Injunction to save my sorry ass," Eadric finished for him. "I know, Mostin, and I really appreciate it. And I appreciate the way that you dealt with Eniin, as well. But it doesn’t change anything. I cannot simply drop my responsibilities here and go romping off to some necropolis in pursuit of someone who may or may not pose a threat at some point in the future. At least give me time until things have quietened down a little – we are in the middle of a war, in case you hadn’t noticed."Ortwin sighed. Times had certainly changed.**Feezuu wondered who had sent the ‘Prying Eyes’ into her abode, and fear almost overcame her. Her assassin? An agent of Graz’zt? One of a hundred others that she had, at some time in the past, affronted or enraged? Or, perhaps, merely a curious local mage of some ability. Her divinations had come too late – whoever the culprit was, they were undetectable, or had vanished.The Succubus Kalkja, who had spied one of the eyes, had continued to act as if she was unaware, and for that Feezuu was grateful. Hopefully, whoever sent them didn’t know that she knew she had been observed.The Cambion had waited for an hour, during which time she prepared a number of minor divinations, and then exited the mausoleum. She had paced around the sand-worn tombs in the blazing heat of the afternoon sun, her magical sight inspecting the area for any lingering auras.She soon found a melange of every conceivable variety of magic, lingering signatures in the air which marked the passage of a number of powerful dweomered items. There were two ‘streaks’ of residual energy, each testifying to potent magic, both of which ended abruptly at the same point in space. Not a ‘Teleport,’ she thought to herself. The residual signature appeared as some kind of conjuration, not a transmutation. A ‘Gate’ or portal? But from where? Feezuu returned to her crypt and waited six hours, before venturing forth again. All of the signatures had disappeared.Whoever they were – and the dispersion of residual magic had indicated at least two of them – they possessed powerful magical adjuncts (but of less than artifact status). Their means of arrival and departure had utilized an unconventional kind of magic.The Cambion considered her options. She could relocate – either to another portion of the Prime, or to another Plane entirely. This was drastic, but might be warranted. She could fortify her position as best she could, and use what wards she had available to her. She could compact with a creature who could determine the source of the threat – maybe even the identity of her assassin. She could attempt to engage more allies – although she was rapidly running out of ways to pay them. She loathed the prospect of moving, especially as her higher spell valences were within sight again.In the end, she decided to take a risk. Feezuu summoned one of her Quasits."You will ‘Commune’ for me," she said."‘Communing,’ is not covered in our compact," the tiny Demon said slyly. "Do you wish to renegotiate?""No. This is a one-time exercise. I will give you one larva.""I require five," the Quasit demanded greedily. It was an outrageous sum, but Demons are seldom slow to seize a perceived advantage.Feezuu hissed. "You would do well to remember that your kind are easily come by. I will give you one larva, or I will engage the services of another who is more tractable.""Very well," it agreed grudgingly. "Which Lord do you wish me to contact?""Not a Lord or Prince," Feezuu smiled. "Demogorgon."The Quasit shuddered.</blockquote>

Verification