Jon Potter
First Post
Hairy Minotaur said:
Wow! A milestone! And I didn't even notice.
I think it's gonna call for another update when I get home.
Almost immediately, actually. They're very paranoid.
I can't imagine why...
-
NOW LIVE! Into the Woods--new character species, eerie monsters, and haunting villains to populate the woodlands of your D&D games.
The Realms of Enlightenment: The Grey Companions
- Thread starter Jon Potter
- Start date
Wow! A milestone! And I didn't even notice.
I think it's gonna call for another update when I get home.
Almost immediately, actually. They're very paranoid.
I can't imagine why...
recentcoin
Explorer
At least they managed to put it out of it's misery.
Jon Potter
First Post
[Realms #351] What's For Dinner?
They opted to ignore the portal for the time being and proceed as they had been - following Karak's methodical approach to dungeoneering. The next right-hand turn along the corridor was a shadowy passage that sloped downward to an enormous set of black iron doors. An almost palpable sense of dread hung about the area and, after some consideration, they again opted to press on rather than explore this new option. None of them was too eager to leave potential enemies at their backs as they continued on.
The next room was a bit further along the hallway, guarded by a door like those they had seen previously - grotesquely decorated with leering skulls, probing tentacles and rotting bodies entwined in horrible manners. It proved untrapped and opened onto a massive, vaulted chamber lit by three great chandeliers of black iron, within which burned red-veined, creamy candles that looked disturbingly like frozen flesh. In the center of the room was a long, heavy oaken table covered with white linen, upon which were settings of iron; plates, platters, chalices, rows of knives, forks and spoons, serving bowls and saltcellars. A large dome-covered platter and a huge soup tureen dominated the center of the table, surrounded by trays of glistening sweetmeats.
The chamber was filled with a not unpleasant spicy odor, but beneath it lingered a faint whiff of decay.
"Oi," Karak muttered from where they were all gathered in a cluster at the door. "Seems even the evil need to eat now and then."
Shamalin's gaze swept the room, coming to rest on the display at the center of the table. Her stomach gave in involuntary lurch. "So it would appear," she said with a grimace. "But I for one have no interest in finding out what's on the menu." She turned away from the room and stood quietly in the hallway.
"Something of the magnitude of the keys we're looking for don't seem like they would be kept in the dining room next to the silverware," Morier nodded moving the join the priestess.
"At least give me time to Detect Magic!" Huzair groused. "Sheesh! This feels like the shortsword thing all over again." No one took his bait and so he cast his spell and studied the room, keeping up a more or less steady stream of complaint as he did so. "You know, I think that creature kicked my ass because I did not have that short sword. And since you big strong fighters can't keep me safe, I think I need to be able to fend for myself."
Again nobody took up the other side of the argument and with a irritated snort, Huzair announced, "Some bad mojo under the serving dome. But nothing else is magical."
Karak harrumphed. "I do nae like the look o' those candles. They look like flesh," he said tramping away from the doorway with Lela riding easily on his shoulder. "I agree with Morier; I do nae think the key be here. Let us continue."
Ayremac looked into the room and scowled before turning away as well. "I agree, this room does not seem to be of great importance," he said. As they walked away he added, "Karak, do you think that was human flesh?"
As Huzair had noted on his earlier reconnaissance, the corridor soon bent around on itself, apparently forming a loop, with the chamber at the end of the hall forming the link. The door was like the others, but it was cold to the touch and slick with moisture as water condensed out of the air onto the chill black surface. The overall effect was unpleasant, making it seems that the door was oozing sweat. Still, it opened like any other door to reveal a dark chamber that seemed more than a bit like a donjon.
Fourteen small "cells" lined the walls, but they were of a sort that none of them had ever seen. For one thing they had no doors, and for another they were filled with a swirling mass of ebon mist that was somehow confined to the alcoves and did not spill into the room. It was this mist that was the source of the unnatural cold, and it caused The Orders' breath to gather into short-lived clouds as they went. The black mist was largely opaque, so it wasn't until they'd moved some way into the room that they could see the emaciated, hairless, sexless, figures suspended within. Each hovered unmoving inside its cloud, head thrown back and arms hanging limply at its sides.
Unsurprisingly, each had its eyes and all other orifices sewn shut with red thread, and mystic runes were tattooed over every visible inch of its body.
"Oh dear," Ayremac whispered nervously.
They opted to ignore the portal for the time being and proceed as they had been - following Karak's methodical approach to dungeoneering. The next right-hand turn along the corridor was a shadowy passage that sloped downward to an enormous set of black iron doors. An almost palpable sense of dread hung about the area and, after some consideration, they again opted to press on rather than explore this new option. None of them was too eager to leave potential enemies at their backs as they continued on.
The next room was a bit further along the hallway, guarded by a door like those they had seen previously - grotesquely decorated with leering skulls, probing tentacles and rotting bodies entwined in horrible manners. It proved untrapped and opened onto a massive, vaulted chamber lit by three great chandeliers of black iron, within which burned red-veined, creamy candles that looked disturbingly like frozen flesh. In the center of the room was a long, heavy oaken table covered with white linen, upon which were settings of iron; plates, platters, chalices, rows of knives, forks and spoons, serving bowls and saltcellars. A large dome-covered platter and a huge soup tureen dominated the center of the table, surrounded by trays of glistening sweetmeats.
The chamber was filled with a not unpleasant spicy odor, but beneath it lingered a faint whiff of decay.
"Oi," Karak muttered from where they were all gathered in a cluster at the door. "Seems even the evil need to eat now and then."
Shamalin's gaze swept the room, coming to rest on the display at the center of the table. Her stomach gave in involuntary lurch. "So it would appear," she said with a grimace. "But I for one have no interest in finding out what's on the menu." She turned away from the room and stood quietly in the hallway.
"Something of the magnitude of the keys we're looking for don't seem like they would be kept in the dining room next to the silverware," Morier nodded moving the join the priestess.
"At least give me time to Detect Magic!" Huzair groused. "Sheesh! This feels like the shortsword thing all over again." No one took his bait and so he cast his spell and studied the room, keeping up a more or less steady stream of complaint as he did so. "You know, I think that creature kicked my ass because I did not have that short sword. And since you big strong fighters can't keep me safe, I think I need to be able to fend for myself."
Again nobody took up the other side of the argument and with a irritated snort, Huzair announced, "Some bad mojo under the serving dome. But nothing else is magical."
Karak harrumphed. "I do nae like the look o' those candles. They look like flesh," he said tramping away from the doorway with Lela riding easily on his shoulder. "I agree with Morier; I do nae think the key be here. Let us continue."
Ayremac looked into the room and scowled before turning away as well. "I agree, this room does not seem to be of great importance," he said. As they walked away he added, "Karak, do you think that was human flesh?"
As Huzair had noted on his earlier reconnaissance, the corridor soon bent around on itself, apparently forming a loop, with the chamber at the end of the hall forming the link. The door was like the others, but it was cold to the touch and slick with moisture as water condensed out of the air onto the chill black surface. The overall effect was unpleasant, making it seems that the door was oozing sweat. Still, it opened like any other door to reveal a dark chamber that seemed more than a bit like a donjon.
Fourteen small "cells" lined the walls, but they were of a sort that none of them had ever seen. For one thing they had no doors, and for another they were filled with a swirling mass of ebon mist that was somehow confined to the alcoves and did not spill into the room. It was this mist that was the source of the unnatural cold, and it caused The Orders' breath to gather into short-lived clouds as they went. The black mist was largely opaque, so it wasn't until they'd moved some way into the room that they could see the emaciated, hairless, sexless, figures suspended within. Each hovered unmoving inside its cloud, head thrown back and arms hanging limply at its sides.
Unsurprisingly, each had its eyes and all other orifices sewn shut with red thread, and mystic runes were tattooed over every visible inch of its body.
"Oh dear," Ayremac whispered nervously.
Last edited:
Jon Potter
First Post
[Realms #352] Wasn't This Supposed to be a Pit?
"By the gods' beards! It seems like it's an evil incubation center. In what manner does chaos intend to use these?" Karak wondered aloud.
"Not a good one, I'd wager," Ayremac told him, running a hand across his jaw. Huzair shot him a look.
"Thank you, Sir Obvious," he sneered in Morier's ear.
"I say this, let's investigate in here," Karak said as he strode across to the other set of double doors in the room. "I be willing to watch the doors and I'll be over here to other door which looks, if my dwarven senses be right, to be where we started. Then I say the rest of you poke around a bit. Do nae touch anything, use your eyes, ears and knowledge to learn what ye may."
"I've never seen anything like this," Ayremac admitted. He thrust the glowing head of his morningstar into the black mist and it came out crusted with frost.
"We have seen those tattoos and the red sewn mouths before," the dwarf told him as he looked from one suspended figure to another. "What are they called? Mendicants or vectors or some such thing?"
"Vectors," Morier hissed as he moved forward, surveying his surroundings as he went. He held Ravager loosely in one hand, the point of the enormous blade skimming along an inch or two above the stone floor.
"Do we know that for sure, or are we just assuming that these creatures are vectors?" Huzair countered. "Vectors may be something else, entirely. Maybe vectors are those who make these things, for instance."
"Whate'er these things are, I wish I could know the use o' them. I mean why grow 'em like this?" Karak continued. He was stroking his beard with one hand as he stared intently into the nearest cell. His flinty eyes studied the chalk-white figure within intently as if he might spontaneously read some explanation in the small red sigils tattooed into its flesh. "Why not just enslave a group of people like was done before? Do they have spell powers?"
"Huzair, why not try Detect Magic again and see what you get?" Lela suggested and the wizard shrugged in reply.
"I think it's pretty obvious that there's magic here," he told the Sprite but he began to cast just the same. Lela augmented her own vision with the Hawkeye spell and took to the air.
"These clouds contain strong magic," Huzair announced as he studied the manifestation. "Conjuration... Abjuration... and Necromancy. The bodies... The vectors or whatever they are... are also full of Necromantic magic." Ayremac's teeth clenched at the mage's announcement.
"Shamalin, does Flor grant you any ability to sense what they be about?" Karak asked the cleric, gesturing meaningfully at the nearest mist-cloaked figure. "I sure do nae know."
Looking from one body to the next, Shamalin became increasingly uneasy as she searched her memory for references to such acts in the prophesies of her sisterhood. She closed her eyes and purposefully tried to recall Blackheart's rantings. Briefly she thought of The Speckled Band. Had they been fortunate to avoid an end such as this? But she scoffed at the thought - how could any aspect of their fate have been fortunate? Unbidden, the face of the dead elf girl from the chamber down the hall came to mind. The Order had managed to steal her from this dark path. That, at least, was a small comfort. Should they try as much for the bodies suspended here?
"This is as foreign to me as it is to Ayremac," the priestess sighed at last. "They're not dead exactly, but they're not truly alive either."
"Undead then," the holy warrior surmised but Shamalin shook her head. "I don't think so," she said. "I think that the mist is holding them in suspension, somehow. But I can't be certain."
"Whate'er they are, it seems 'ere we have a good chance to foil whatever evil is planning to be done with 'em. I say we destroy 'em," Karak announced, stamping the haft of his axe on the floor once for emphasis. "But how?"
"Stabbing them usually works," Morier said, looking pointedly at Huzair. The albino's expression seemed to challenge the wizard to argue with him, but Karak went on before he had a chance to.
"Aye, white one. I can certainly do it one at a time, and yer blade ain't too shabby," the dwarf said. "Zounds, even Shamalin could practice with that long poker o' hers. I am a might concerned about that mist, though. Why it could freeze us or be a silent alarm to the other planes."
"I could try to Dispel the Magic," Shamalin suggested but Huzair didn't think that would work.
"That mist is strong magic, Shamalin," he told her. "I think an archmage would have trouble dispelling it."
"I noticed some feint runes carved into the floor in front of each cell." Lela revealed the tiny detail that her augmented vision had allowed her to spot. "It seemed to form a bounding area for the mist. We could mar the runes and maybe dissipate the mist."
"Yeah, or release it into the room to freeze us all," Huzair countered. "Bad idea."
"Like usual, Huzair, you're quick to poke holes in everybody else's plan but slow to offer any useful ideas of your own," Morier snapped. "We don't even know that the mist is dangerous." Ayremac cleared his throat and sheepishly admitted to testing the mist with his morningstar.
"It's cold, but it didn't hurt me to touch my weapon to it," the holy warrior said. "And if it's an alarm, then it's already been triggered." Huzair patted the man derisively on the back.
"Nice one, there, Ayremac," he chuckled, shaking his head.
"Sorry," the Officer said. "You told us to poke around..."
"What's done is done," Karak snorted, stroking his beard thoughtfully once more. "I do nae know how I feel about such a thing, but we could try to wake one o' this lot and see what it has to say or offer us information?"
"They're not going to say much with their mouths sewn shut," Huzair observed and Karak fixed him with one eye.
"What say the rest of you?" the dwarf asked, looking around at his companions.
------------------------------
DM's Note: We're coming up to one of the moments in the campaign where I just had to bang my head against the table in disbelief. Proof positive that you just never know what your PCs are gonna do.
"By the gods' beards! It seems like it's an evil incubation center. In what manner does chaos intend to use these?" Karak wondered aloud.
"Not a good one, I'd wager," Ayremac told him, running a hand across his jaw. Huzair shot him a look.
"Thank you, Sir Obvious," he sneered in Morier's ear.
"I say this, let's investigate in here," Karak said as he strode across to the other set of double doors in the room. "I be willing to watch the doors and I'll be over here to other door which looks, if my dwarven senses be right, to be where we started. Then I say the rest of you poke around a bit. Do nae touch anything, use your eyes, ears and knowledge to learn what ye may."
"I've never seen anything like this," Ayremac admitted. He thrust the glowing head of his morningstar into the black mist and it came out crusted with frost.
"We have seen those tattoos and the red sewn mouths before," the dwarf told him as he looked from one suspended figure to another. "What are they called? Mendicants or vectors or some such thing?"
"Vectors," Morier hissed as he moved forward, surveying his surroundings as he went. He held Ravager loosely in one hand, the point of the enormous blade skimming along an inch or two above the stone floor.
"Do we know that for sure, or are we just assuming that these creatures are vectors?" Huzair countered. "Vectors may be something else, entirely. Maybe vectors are those who make these things, for instance."
"Whate'er these things are, I wish I could know the use o' them. I mean why grow 'em like this?" Karak continued. He was stroking his beard with one hand as he stared intently into the nearest cell. His flinty eyes studied the chalk-white figure within intently as if he might spontaneously read some explanation in the small red sigils tattooed into its flesh. "Why not just enslave a group of people like was done before? Do they have spell powers?"
"Huzair, why not try Detect Magic again and see what you get?" Lela suggested and the wizard shrugged in reply.
"I think it's pretty obvious that there's magic here," he told the Sprite but he began to cast just the same. Lela augmented her own vision with the Hawkeye spell and took to the air.
"These clouds contain strong magic," Huzair announced as he studied the manifestation. "Conjuration... Abjuration... and Necromancy. The bodies... The vectors or whatever they are... are also full of Necromantic magic." Ayremac's teeth clenched at the mage's announcement.
"Shamalin, does Flor grant you any ability to sense what they be about?" Karak asked the cleric, gesturing meaningfully at the nearest mist-cloaked figure. "I sure do nae know."
Looking from one body to the next, Shamalin became increasingly uneasy as she searched her memory for references to such acts in the prophesies of her sisterhood. She closed her eyes and purposefully tried to recall Blackheart's rantings. Briefly she thought of The Speckled Band. Had they been fortunate to avoid an end such as this? But she scoffed at the thought - how could any aspect of their fate have been fortunate? Unbidden, the face of the dead elf girl from the chamber down the hall came to mind. The Order had managed to steal her from this dark path. That, at least, was a small comfort. Should they try as much for the bodies suspended here?
"This is as foreign to me as it is to Ayremac," the priestess sighed at last. "They're not dead exactly, but they're not truly alive either."
"Undead then," the holy warrior surmised but Shamalin shook her head. "I don't think so," she said. "I think that the mist is holding them in suspension, somehow. But I can't be certain."
"Whate'er they are, it seems 'ere we have a good chance to foil whatever evil is planning to be done with 'em. I say we destroy 'em," Karak announced, stamping the haft of his axe on the floor once for emphasis. "But how?"
"Stabbing them usually works," Morier said, looking pointedly at Huzair. The albino's expression seemed to challenge the wizard to argue with him, but Karak went on before he had a chance to.
"Aye, white one. I can certainly do it one at a time, and yer blade ain't too shabby," the dwarf said. "Zounds, even Shamalin could practice with that long poker o' hers. I am a might concerned about that mist, though. Why it could freeze us or be a silent alarm to the other planes."
"I could try to Dispel the Magic," Shamalin suggested but Huzair didn't think that would work.
"That mist is strong magic, Shamalin," he told her. "I think an archmage would have trouble dispelling it."
"I noticed some feint runes carved into the floor in front of each cell." Lela revealed the tiny detail that her augmented vision had allowed her to spot. "It seemed to form a bounding area for the mist. We could mar the runes and maybe dissipate the mist."
"Yeah, or release it into the room to freeze us all," Huzair countered. "Bad idea."
"Like usual, Huzair, you're quick to poke holes in everybody else's plan but slow to offer any useful ideas of your own," Morier snapped. "We don't even know that the mist is dangerous." Ayremac cleared his throat and sheepishly admitted to testing the mist with his morningstar.
"It's cold, but it didn't hurt me to touch my weapon to it," the holy warrior said. "And if it's an alarm, then it's already been triggered." Huzair patted the man derisively on the back.
"Nice one, there, Ayremac," he chuckled, shaking his head.
"Sorry," the Officer said. "You told us to poke around..."
"What's done is done," Karak snorted, stroking his beard thoughtfully once more. "I do nae know how I feel about such a thing, but we could try to wake one o' this lot and see what it has to say or offer us information?"
"They're not going to say much with their mouths sewn shut," Huzair observed and Karak fixed him with one eye.
"What say the rest of you?" the dwarf asked, looking around at his companions.
------------------------------
DM's Note: We're coming up to one of the moments in the campaign where I just had to bang my head against the table in disbelief. Proof positive that you just never know what your PCs are gonna do.
Hairy Minotaur
Explorer
Are these the things that attacked them in post #472? The slavering corpses?
Jon Potter
First Post
Hairy Minotaur said:
Nope, those were just some anthropophagi I whipped up using a template for d20 Modern by The Game Mechanics. You can take a look at it here:
http://www.thegamemechanics.com/freebies/TGM_Anthropophagi.asp
The players made short work of those guys, if you remember. The vectors are different; for one thing they're spell-stitched, which is always fun.
![:]](http://www.enworld.org/forum/images/smilies/devious.png "Devious :]")
Jon Potter
First Post
[Realms #352a] The Opposite of Life
The general consensus among loremasters and sages regarding planer theory was that the numerous planes of the multiverse formed a great wheel. The Outer Planes - from the Seven Mounting Heavens of Celestia to the 666 Layers of the Abyss - orbited the Inner separated by the expanse of the Astral Plane like the rim of a wheel around its axis. In 462 AE Mageholme's Department of Thaumaturgy in Barnacus commissioned a vast and complex orrery in order to depict for students the interaction of the Outer Planes with the Prime. Since then such devices had become the accepted representation of the cosmos as it was understood on Oerune.
An unfolded tesseract, however, was the typical method of representing the Inner Planes. Each cube of the tesseract's face was generally color-coded to correspond to one of the six Inner planes - four Elemental, the Positive Energy, and the Negative Energy Planes. If it were physically possible to fold this hypercube into a standard three dimensional object, then all of the Inner Planes would overlap in the center forming a representation of the Prime Material Plane.
It was an accepted truism that despite the fact that the Inner Planes were the building blocks of all existence on the Prime, taken individually, they were inimical to those from the Prime. The most dangerous of these was the Negative Energy Plane. It was Death and Undeath; the Void; the End of All Things. It was Destruction and Unmaking, the polar opposite of life. It killed life because it was its nature to kill; it was what caused death. It was what made living beings age and die; what made wood rot and grass wither.
If either Huzair or Morier had spent more time on planer studies they might have protested more vehemently when Ayremac volunteered to break the binding runes.
Shamalin sighed, having thought it might come to this. She didn't know if the spell would work, considering the strange state the suspended beings were in. But for their own sake, whatever they were, she knew she had to try. As disturbing as the thought of trying to rouse these creatures from their transfixion was, the idea of stabbing one with her sword seemed worse.
"Shall I try to Speak with the Dead?" she asked, her reluctance to do so plainly audible in her voice.
"I say we mar the runes on one first and see if that wakes it up before Shamalin tries to talk with the dead," Lela suggested and the dwarf nodded.
"Aye lass you have the right of it, I think," Karak told the sprite. "Good work, Lela, spottin' those runes. I say, we mar the runes on one o' them, and hold it still. Then ask it our questions. Of course takin' the mist away may wake it up, do you think we do it thru the mist?"
"I don't think we should do it at all," Morier stated flatly. "Waking up the dead has too much potential to go wrong." Huzair nodded over his shoulder.
"We're messing with some powerful magic here," the mage added and Ayremac looked up gravely.
"Why don't you all stand near the door there, ready to leave if things go bad," the Holy Warrior suggested, gesturing with his glowing morningstar. "I've been able to build up a bit of resistance to cold over the years so it might be best for me to take the brunt of it. I'll mar the rune and step back, waiting to see what happens. If the room clears and the vector is reachable, I will grab it and bring it you."
"Good thinking, Ayremac," Shamalin agreed. "I have an Endure Elements spell that I could cast and remain close." Huzair snorted.
"Good luck... An archmage would have trouble dispelling this," he muttered sarcastically. "I am sure that rubbing away the symbol will work." Shamalin shot him a disapproving look and leaned in close to his ear.
"Your sarcasm lends power to an already sinister place," she whispered. "Have faith in our efforts." And then she began to cast, calling on her goddess for intervention.
Ayremac made relatively short work of the runes. It was loud, work, however. His morningstar clanged again and again on the stone floor, and although both Karak and Morier stood ready at the door, no one came in response to the noise. After a half dozen double-handed blows from the glowing weapon, he had sufficiently marred one of the runes to have an effect. It just wasn't an effect he was hoping for.
The mist that swirled within the small cell, began to spill out from an invisible crack in whatever force was keeping it contained. It blossomed like a roiling, bubbling cloud of smoke squeezing through a door left ajar in a burning building. Ayemac backed up, slamming bodily into Shamalin and almost knocking her to the ground in the process. Neither one of them was fast enough to avoid the soul-freezing touch of the cloud and they both screamed as the smoke caressed their flesh, deadening their life force as it came.
The general consensus among loremasters and sages regarding planer theory was that the numerous planes of the multiverse formed a great wheel. The Outer Planes - from the Seven Mounting Heavens of Celestia to the 666 Layers of the Abyss - orbited the Inner separated by the expanse of the Astral Plane like the rim of a wheel around its axis. In 462 AE Mageholme's Department of Thaumaturgy in Barnacus commissioned a vast and complex orrery in order to depict for students the interaction of the Outer Planes with the Prime. Since then such devices had become the accepted representation of the cosmos as it was understood on Oerune.
An unfolded tesseract, however, was the typical method of representing the Inner Planes. Each cube of the tesseract's face was generally color-coded to correspond to one of the six Inner planes - four Elemental, the Positive Energy, and the Negative Energy Planes. If it were physically possible to fold this hypercube into a standard three dimensional object, then all of the Inner Planes would overlap in the center forming a representation of the Prime Material Plane.
It was an accepted truism that despite the fact that the Inner Planes were the building blocks of all existence on the Prime, taken individually, they were inimical to those from the Prime. The most dangerous of these was the Negative Energy Plane. It was Death and Undeath; the Void; the End of All Things. It was Destruction and Unmaking, the polar opposite of life. It killed life because it was its nature to kill; it was what caused death. It was what made living beings age and die; what made wood rot and grass wither.
If either Huzair or Morier had spent more time on planer studies they might have protested more vehemently when Ayremac volunteered to break the binding runes.
Shamalin sighed, having thought it might come to this. She didn't know if the spell would work, considering the strange state the suspended beings were in. But for their own sake, whatever they were, she knew she had to try. As disturbing as the thought of trying to rouse these creatures from their transfixion was, the idea of stabbing one with her sword seemed worse.
"Shall I try to Speak with the Dead?" she asked, her reluctance to do so plainly audible in her voice.
"I say we mar the runes on one first and see if that wakes it up before Shamalin tries to talk with the dead," Lela suggested and the dwarf nodded.
"Aye lass you have the right of it, I think," Karak told the sprite. "Good work, Lela, spottin' those runes. I say, we mar the runes on one o' them, and hold it still. Then ask it our questions. Of course takin' the mist away may wake it up, do you think we do it thru the mist?"
"I don't think we should do it at all," Morier stated flatly. "Waking up the dead has too much potential to go wrong." Huzair nodded over his shoulder.
"We're messing with some powerful magic here," the mage added and Ayremac looked up gravely.
"Why don't you all stand near the door there, ready to leave if things go bad," the Holy Warrior suggested, gesturing with his glowing morningstar. "I've been able to build up a bit of resistance to cold over the years so it might be best for me to take the brunt of it. I'll mar the rune and step back, waiting to see what happens. If the room clears and the vector is reachable, I will grab it and bring it you."
"Good thinking, Ayremac," Shamalin agreed. "I have an Endure Elements spell that I could cast and remain close." Huzair snorted.
"Good luck... An archmage would have trouble dispelling this," he muttered sarcastically. "I am sure that rubbing away the symbol will work." Shamalin shot him a disapproving look and leaned in close to his ear.
"Your sarcasm lends power to an already sinister place," she whispered. "Have faith in our efforts." And then she began to cast, calling on her goddess for intervention.
Ayremac made relatively short work of the runes. It was loud, work, however. His morningstar clanged again and again on the stone floor, and although both Karak and Morier stood ready at the door, no one came in response to the noise. After a half dozen double-handed blows from the glowing weapon, he had sufficiently marred one of the runes to have an effect. It just wasn't an effect he was hoping for.
The mist that swirled within the small cell, began to spill out from an invisible crack in whatever force was keeping it contained. It blossomed like a roiling, bubbling cloud of smoke squeezing through a door left ajar in a burning building. Ayemac backed up, slamming bodily into Shamalin and almost knocking her to the ground in the process. Neither one of them was fast enough to avoid the soul-freezing touch of the cloud and they both screamed as the smoke caressed their flesh, deadening their life force as it came.
recentcoin
Explorer
So what kind of a saving roll do you need for that?
2 cents,
RC
2 cents,
RC
Jon Potter
First Post
recentcoin said:
Good question, and unfortunatly I don't remember if there was a Reflex save to avoid this initial brush with Negative Energy. I do know that there was a Fort save to avoid negative levels. DC 25 maybe? I can't seem to find my notes for that bit, although it was mostly straight out of the Manual of the Planes. I did use some rules for negative energy bleed from Behemoth3's "Swarm of Stirges" book, mostly the negative energy taint and eruption mechanic. Onto that I grafted some "fire-fighting" rules presented in the "Welcome to the Halmae" storyhour and some other rules I clipped from the free adventure "Dead Man's Party".
They looked something like this:
Each round, an Erupted square would Taint adjacent squares. Those adjacent squares got a DC 15 save. If they failed, they became Tainted areas, just starting to corrupt with Negative Energy. The next round, Tainted squares would become full on Erupted squares. The round after that, they would taint their neighbors.
Any priest or paladin attempting to turn the rift can close it, if they succeed in a check as if to turn an 8 HD undead. The PCs can attempt to dispel the magic that holds the rift open. A dispel magic check against a DC 17 closes the rift.
Any vial of holy water thrown at the gate has a 5% chance of closing the gate. Throwing multiple vials simultaneously increases the chance (e.g. 4 vials gives a 20% chance), but they must all hit the gate at the exact same instant (the PCs may have to devise something clever to make this work).
Rake's power is part of what is keeping the gates open. If he is destroyed, the gates close on their own.
I'm not sure that's a very satisfying answer to your question, but I hope it goes some way toward satisfying your curiousity. And thanks for asking!
Jon Potter
First Post
[Realms #353] Negative Energy Eruption
"AARRGGGHHH!" Ayremac wailed as he felt a bit of his life energy snuffed out by the brief contact with the cloud. "Run!" he added as he scrambled toward the door urging Shamalin along beside him. In her heavy armor she was far slower than he, and his urging amounted more to bodily dragging her toward the door.
The cleric felt an icy cold settle against her heart and gasped for a breath that seemed never to come as she was pulled along in Ayremac's wake.
"Shaharizod's toes, what be that!" Karak bellowed. He looked toward his left where Huzair had been standing, but the mage was gone, having activated his Ring of Invisibility as soon as he saw what the cloud had done to Ayremac and Shamalin. Karak turned to look at Morier instead.
"Negative Energy," Morier said, although it wasn't clear whether the eldritch warrior was answering the dwarf or talking to himself. "That would explain the cold and the black mist." Karak harrumphed at the albino's words and turned his attention to getting everyone out of the room in one piece.
"Let's MOVE out! Go! Go! Go! Out this door!" the dwarf commanded, pinwheeling his waraxe wildly to marshal everyone out into the corridor. "Lela! Fly, girl! Fly! Come on all! We've all surivived worse than this."
Lela did as the dwarf commanded and fluttered out into the ruddy hallway. Huzair clearly didn't need any encouragement since he was already gone, having now activated his Ring of Blinking as well. Ayremac was struggling for the door dragging Shamalin behind him like a humanoid anchor. Gritting his teeth in frustraton, Karak chugged forward, slipping one meaty arm around Shamalin's waist and dragging her onward. The dwarf spared an angry grimace at Morier, yelling , "Run, you white fool! What in the nine hells will a sword do for you now?"
"I doubt very much we could outrun a negative energy eruption," Morier replied, still studying the cloud. It seemed to have quadrupled in size as the area immediately surrounding the planer tear became tainted by Negative Energy. The leading edge was now only five feet away. "It seems we've two choices... and maybe only time for one."
"We can discuss options when we're safely away from this... cloud!" Karak cursed dragging Shamalin along with him. Under different circumstances, had the dwarf not been already fatigued by his attempt to call on divine aid, he would have simply slung the cleric over his shoulder and marched down the hallway with her. But as it was, he had all he could do to pull her along. He couldn't even manage that once she started fighting him.
"Wait!" she protested. "Let's hear what he has to say."
"We cannot abandon these caves until we find the keys," Ayremac agreed, regaining some of his composure now that the initial shock of energy drain was passed. "I feel obligated to remain here as I released this."
"Someone can try to Dispel Magic... or we can try to channel positive energy into this thing," the albino told them. "Either one may disrupt the negative energy eruption... but we've got to try something PRODUCTIVE!!" At this last statement, Morier glared pointedly at Ayremac as if to say, 'Next time I tell you something's a bad idea, listen to me'.
"Umba, please guide my heart and hand. Allow me to hold at bay this seeping, life draining energy," Ayremac intoned, displaying the holy symbol etched into the breastplate of his armor as if he expected it to fire a beam of holy light into the cloud of unlife. There was no flashy visual display, but he felt his deity's power flow through him and saw the cloud before him react as if it were hit with a strong gust of wind. It blew back, losing most of the advances it had made in the process.
Shamalin gawked at Ayremac's success and wrested herself free of Karak's grip. She produced her silver holy symbol - appropriated off a dead janissary what seemed like half a lifetime ago - and held it forcefully at arm's length. "Flor, aid me in this dark hour," she pleaded and felt the touch of divinity pass through her and into the negative energy eruption. It seemed to have no visible effect and doubt clamped down on her heart like a frost giant's fist. "I can't..." her voice creaked.
"Have faith, Shamalin," Ayremac encouraged. He reached out and put a bolstering arm around the priestess. His vambrace squealed jarringly against her pauldron. (1)
"Morier, you know I do nae run from a battle, but this is a battle we can nae win," Karak confided in Morier, his voice hushed but edged with worry none the less. "I say retreat and live to fight another day, lad!"
"I never said we should stick around to try fighting this, Karak," the eldritch warrior agreed with a nod. He took a step back into the hall. "I just thought we should give these two a chance to counter the eruption. But it doesn't seem to be going well."
They were unable to duplicate Ayremac's initial success against the cloud - even working together. The eruption was simply too powerful for them to negate and it quickly reclaimed what the Officer of Umba had taken with his first attempt to channel positive energy into the cloud. Shamalin tried again to call on Lady Mercy, but it seemed that Flor had her eye elsewhere and the cloud advanced. It was very close to engulfing her in its life-quenching embrace when Ayremac jerked her backward.
"It's no good!" he told her, his face animated by an emotion that Shamalin took for despair and she wondered how closely his expression mirrored her own. "This cause is lost! We must flee!" She allowed herself to be led back toward the hallway, her eyes fixed on the welling darkness.
"No!" she said, jerking her arm away from Ayremac as she had done with Karak. Even as she freed herself, her hands were moving tin the intricate somatics necessary to Dispel Magic. "Resolvo veneficus!" she commanded, willing the magical matrix holding open the planer tear to collapse. She'd never attempted the miracle before - and truthfully, she thought it to be beyond her ability to invoke - but she felt the power fill her and manifest as she wished it to. A wave of anti-magic slammed directly into the heart of the cloud.
It had absolutely no effect.
-------------------------------------
(1) I wrote that little bit as a joke - riffing on the absurdity of these two steel-jacketted characters offering one another comfort. But when my players read that they all said: WTF? so I guess my attempt at humor failed. I left it in as a reminder to myself to stay closer to the story and to stay away from things I think might be funny.
"AARRGGGHHH!" Ayremac wailed as he felt a bit of his life energy snuffed out by the brief contact with the cloud. "Run!" he added as he scrambled toward the door urging Shamalin along beside him. In her heavy armor she was far slower than he, and his urging amounted more to bodily dragging her toward the door.
The cleric felt an icy cold settle against her heart and gasped for a breath that seemed never to come as she was pulled along in Ayremac's wake.
"Shaharizod's toes, what be that!" Karak bellowed. He looked toward his left where Huzair had been standing, but the mage was gone, having activated his Ring of Invisibility as soon as he saw what the cloud had done to Ayremac and Shamalin. Karak turned to look at Morier instead.
"Negative Energy," Morier said, although it wasn't clear whether the eldritch warrior was answering the dwarf or talking to himself. "That would explain the cold and the black mist." Karak harrumphed at the albino's words and turned his attention to getting everyone out of the room in one piece.
"Let's MOVE out! Go! Go! Go! Out this door!" the dwarf commanded, pinwheeling his waraxe wildly to marshal everyone out into the corridor. "Lela! Fly, girl! Fly! Come on all! We've all surivived worse than this."
Lela did as the dwarf commanded and fluttered out into the ruddy hallway. Huzair clearly didn't need any encouragement since he was already gone, having now activated his Ring of Blinking as well. Ayremac was struggling for the door dragging Shamalin behind him like a humanoid anchor. Gritting his teeth in frustraton, Karak chugged forward, slipping one meaty arm around Shamalin's waist and dragging her onward. The dwarf spared an angry grimace at Morier, yelling , "Run, you white fool! What in the nine hells will a sword do for you now?"
"I doubt very much we could outrun a negative energy eruption," Morier replied, still studying the cloud. It seemed to have quadrupled in size as the area immediately surrounding the planer tear became tainted by Negative Energy. The leading edge was now only five feet away. "It seems we've two choices... and maybe only time for one."
"We can discuss options when we're safely away from this... cloud!" Karak cursed dragging Shamalin along with him. Under different circumstances, had the dwarf not been already fatigued by his attempt to call on divine aid, he would have simply slung the cleric over his shoulder and marched down the hallway with her. But as it was, he had all he could do to pull her along. He couldn't even manage that once she started fighting him.
"Wait!" she protested. "Let's hear what he has to say."
"We cannot abandon these caves until we find the keys," Ayremac agreed, regaining some of his composure now that the initial shock of energy drain was passed. "I feel obligated to remain here as I released this."
"Someone can try to Dispel Magic... or we can try to channel positive energy into this thing," the albino told them. "Either one may disrupt the negative energy eruption... but we've got to try something PRODUCTIVE!!" At this last statement, Morier glared pointedly at Ayremac as if to say, 'Next time I tell you something's a bad idea, listen to me'.
"Umba, please guide my heart and hand. Allow me to hold at bay this seeping, life draining energy," Ayremac intoned, displaying the holy symbol etched into the breastplate of his armor as if he expected it to fire a beam of holy light into the cloud of unlife. There was no flashy visual display, but he felt his deity's power flow through him and saw the cloud before him react as if it were hit with a strong gust of wind. It blew back, losing most of the advances it had made in the process.
Shamalin gawked at Ayremac's success and wrested herself free of Karak's grip. She produced her silver holy symbol - appropriated off a dead janissary what seemed like half a lifetime ago - and held it forcefully at arm's length. "Flor, aid me in this dark hour," she pleaded and felt the touch of divinity pass through her and into the negative energy eruption. It seemed to have no visible effect and doubt clamped down on her heart like a frost giant's fist. "I can't..." her voice creaked.
"Have faith, Shamalin," Ayremac encouraged. He reached out and put a bolstering arm around the priestess. His vambrace squealed jarringly against her pauldron. (1)
"Morier, you know I do nae run from a battle, but this is a battle we can nae win," Karak confided in Morier, his voice hushed but edged with worry none the less. "I say retreat and live to fight another day, lad!"
"I never said we should stick around to try fighting this, Karak," the eldritch warrior agreed with a nod. He took a step back into the hall. "I just thought we should give these two a chance to counter the eruption. But it doesn't seem to be going well."
They were unable to duplicate Ayremac's initial success against the cloud - even working together. The eruption was simply too powerful for them to negate and it quickly reclaimed what the Officer of Umba had taken with his first attempt to channel positive energy into the cloud. Shamalin tried again to call on Lady Mercy, but it seemed that Flor had her eye elsewhere and the cloud advanced. It was very close to engulfing her in its life-quenching embrace when Ayremac jerked her backward.
"It's no good!" he told her, his face animated by an emotion that Shamalin took for despair and she wondered how closely his expression mirrored her own. "This cause is lost! We must flee!" She allowed herself to be led back toward the hallway, her eyes fixed on the welling darkness.
"No!" she said, jerking her arm away from Ayremac as she had done with Karak. Even as she freed herself, her hands were moving tin the intricate somatics necessary to Dispel Magic. "Resolvo veneficus!" she commanded, willing the magical matrix holding open the planer tear to collapse. She'd never attempted the miracle before - and truthfully, she thought it to be beyond her ability to invoke - but she felt the power fill her and manifest as she wished it to. A wave of anti-magic slammed directly into the heart of the cloud.
It had absolutely no effect.
-------------------------------------
(1) I wrote that little bit as a joke - riffing on the absurdity of these two steel-jacketted characters offering one another comfort. But when my players read that they all said: WTF? so I guess my attempt at humor failed. I left it in as a reminder to myself to stay closer to the story and to stay away from things I think might be funny.
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