Session 3, part 2
The dead Governor’s name is Mad Stone Tumbles. It was, we shall soon see, an apt name for the man.
As we walk through the expensive neighborhood of Silver Hill, we are astounded at what we see. Even in this Black and White Season, the silver trees are astounding in the spring. The leaves are silver. Real silver! More extravagantly, so are the bulb-shaped domes on the spires of the beautiful buildings in the neighborhood. It is simply amazing.
DM note: I kind of thought that the players might try to take some leaves with them, but to their credit (or discredit?), they did not.
It is no surprise to me, when we enter the Governor's bedchamber, that Chameleon is the first to step near to the expansive window and study the strand like substance remaining in the open frame. The rest of us have found a more interesting puzzle: the Governor’s diary. As we read the tome aloud, Swift examines the body of the late Governor in great detail. The body is bloated, lacerated. Quite clearly there was some struggle, here. The wounds are more swollen than the remainder of the body, so we conclude that the assassin was using poisoned blades. The halfling is pacing the room back and forth in front of the body, his pacing dizzyingly quick. Swift opens a vial to see if there may be some connection between its contents and the overpoweringly evil smell in the room. The diary exhibits his incredible paranoia. It is filled with grandiose schemes of power-mad conspirators. It is filled with imagined plots of every kind against the Governor. He fears for his life. And has for years. Is it the wench occupying his bed who will snuff out his existence? Is it the matron of House Dragon ("that manipulative wench" is the actual reference)? Is it the rival for his position as Governor, Laughing Monkey Rules (the new Governor, as it turns out)? His mind is a room full of doors opening out upon a landscape of fear and delusion that only restless sleep could wrestle with.
The servant who discovered the body, is questioned. She heard sounds of struggle in the Governor’s room, and screams. When she entered (immediately, she claims), she discovered the awful truth. Oddly, there was no noticeable reality shift when the Governor passed from the mortal world.
DM note: I was hoping that the PCs would bite on some of these hooks, but, unfortunately, they got right to the point.
Chameleon is bothered by the window. He asks the guards for permission to cast a minor spell, which will allow him to climb the wall outside the window as if he was a spider. The guards assent. When we hear the palace echo with trumpets, the Dream’s response to the magic spell, we look up, aware that Chameleon has cast his spell and is crawling outside of the window. He is brave to do so at such a height, even with the magic. He sees more strands above the window, and goes up. As he nears the top of the building, Chameleon sees an opening in the wall. A very large opening, that is clearly not part of the architecture. He casts his light spell upon a dagger and throws it into the large crevice between the dome and the marble wall. When the Dream reacts, the air wavers as it does when heat bears down upon a stone street. I glance around the room and I see that the monkey and his constant companion, the little tiger have fled. I know not how they had the sense to do so, but I can only admire their wisdom. The halfling is deliberating pursuit of the animals. Swift and I are looking up, out the window, at the exact moment the heel of Chameleon's boot rushes toward us, as he leaps through the window in the shadow of a creature that I will be able to describe on my deathbed, moving with such speed and superhuman agility that his many legs and furry abdomen are but a blur below the hideous head with its scissoring mouth now closing and multiple eyes devoid of soul; the black, hairy legs have drawn in the Chameleon. And there is no sound in the room but the rending of flesh and the slight whish of the venom entering his exposed neck. The guards have run.
DM note: man, did this come as a surprise to the players. I had been telling them for a week that the next session would be primarily political intrigue. They didn't see this coming. (Well, to be honest, Chameleon's player had his suspicions, which is why he climbed the wall. When he saw the 15 FOOT HOLE I would have thought he would back off. But noooo, he had toss a dagger in...
The Beast
Incredibly, Chameleon still stands, but not for long. He makes a feeble attempt to defend himself, but the huge spider strikes again. Chameleon is dead before his body has crumpled to the ground. In response to the death, the ceiling begins to rain down small chunks of marble. Swift is struck a glancing blow. I am struck more critically, but it is a mere annoyance, compared to the monster that faces us.
DM note: this is the first time that the PCs received damage from a reality shift, albeit indirectly.
I think for just a second; I do not feel fear yet, but my surprise is strong, as if a great wall of water or rain of stone has come from out of nowhere and is sweeping us all away toward death. I will not leave the body of our fallen companion. The others obviously come to the same conclusion.
The spider is near enough that I feel his breath upon me. I am bitten and, along with the terrible pain, I feel...weakened. My weapons are bound, all but the knives in my sash and I ready the knife, which will only be like a stone dropped in a vast raging river, and make my strike. A great leg throttles me and I fall, fangs scraping across my leather armor. Swift unties his naganata (how, I forget) and strikes, but he has failed, and is swept under by the grinding maw. Somehow, he shrugs off the poison, for a moment, but it soon catches up to him. The halfling casts a magical spell on himself, and later, on me. It provides me with a magical defense against the bite of the spider, and I am grateful. In the thick of battle, the reality shifts go unnoticed.
The spider-creature is quickly moving to block our escape.
DM note: the player of Fighting Man Dances immediately picked up on the fact that the spider was using intelligent tactics. Very interesting...
We try to fend off the creature with our blades, but it is much quicker than we are and is so much larger than we, that any advantage of reach gained from our weapons is lost. There is something primeval, something that comes from the cave and creeps into our eyes as we hear the ghostly shout, "Fire" and the halfling, in the only second we have, summons forth some force to retrieve a lamp from beside the bed or on a wall. Unfortunately, the Dream’s reaction is very noticeable, this time. A gust of wind blows out the flames of every single lamp in the room. We are in total darkness. And the spider can see us.
DM note: this is the point that the players really hated me. Hey, they handed it to me...
This is the darkness of the known enemy breathing away our lives. This is the darkness of the enemy now not on one side, but on many. Swift makes a lucky blow with his naganata and slices deep into the furry creature. He is rewarded with only anger. The halfling reaches for the flint in his pocket and brings into existence a glimmer of a fire that takes its breath upon the pages of the madman's diary.
DM note: and here, the tide begins to turn.
He has thrown fuel upon the fire, and Swift has pulled a curtain from the casement and washed it in fire and we are running forward. We throw the flaming curtain on the nightmare, and it is burned badly. It retreats.
We grab another curtain and attempt the same attack, but the spider has run to the far corner of the enormous room, and the sheet has been burned away by the time we get to the spider. It does cower from the flame, however.
The halfling is throwing small, burning objects at the spider. In an act of self-preservation, the spider rushes past us, attacking Swift as it passes. Swift swings out feebly, but can not manage a successful blow. He is brought to the brink of death by the spider's attack. I attempt desperately to stop his bleeding, to heal him, while the halfling continues his assault on the monster.
Chameleon dead, Swift dying. I am injured and weakened and, it seems, no weapon made by humanity can offer protection from this unworldly thing. Do I see the image in my mind, do I hear Chameleon's voice calling out to us from the dead?
Swift joins Chameleon in death. My healing has proven futile. The Dream reacts; a column of fire rises from inches above him into the ceiling, burning me.
The spider is heading for the window, but stops at the body of Chameleon, clearly intending to take it with him in retreat. In desperation, Fighting Man Dances throws one last bundle of burning cloth at it, and the flame flickers as if it will burn out. But the bundle explodes into flame a second later, and the spider’s life is spent.
DM note: that is karma in action. The halfling rolled (on 1d6) a 1 for damage against the spider, which (although he didn't know it) had 2 hp left. I marked off the karma point he had received in the burning forest, and he rerolled...a 6! There was much rejoicing.
The air is choking with the smell of its putrid, smoking fur. With the death of the spider, night turns to day, and again, to night, and a great wind sweeps through the city. The beast is dead. The guard returns and take the bodies of Swift and Chameleon to the Shugenja temple in the North Crossing neighborhood. The halfling and I are escorted out of the palace and soon have received an invitation to the House Dragon. We accept an escort and go.
DM note: the House Dragon is possibly the most influential force in the city, politically. The Dragon family is a very powerful family within the empire, and the Silver City is its home, so in a sense, the Silver City is House Dragon's.
House Dragon
Our two dead companions, having been taken to the temple, weigh upon our minds as we enter the opulent palace of Dragon Silently Hunts. We should, she is certain, be rewarded for our valor in battle. We are, after all, heroes. Would 100 Rice Months for each of us be sufficient?
"While it would be a great wealth," the halfling replies, "what we seek is something for our companions who can have no reward in death. Can the Shugenja bring them back?"
"We shall see."
Dragon sweeps from the room to send a message. Our eyes cast upward toward the heroic paintings which line the wall. In this season of black and white, the colors of the paintings stand out like flames along the polished alabaster walls, for, indeed, they do not lack color. One painting, in particular, captures our interest: a deep forest scene with a figure at the center, abstractly like a hooded monk with eyes of fire and body of ghostly white surrounded by what may be flames of blue, bears a staff, or rod, or sword down upon the black figure of some person kneeling at his feet. The forest is vast, awash with towering shafts of hemlock. The author's name is not known, but the title rests below, embossed in gold. "Undeath in the Silver Forest."
DM note: this was a cool moment, I painted the picture, myself. It was very abstract and the players could make little of it.
I remember the Chameleon's final words, "What do we see in death? Do we meet the dreamer?"
I fear that what we have not understood in life will escape us, also, in the hour of our death.
All our hopes now lie with our companions where they lie without breath on the marble slabs in the temple. Will our request be honored?
Dragon returns, but before she can speak, a young nobleman strides into the chamber, wakazashi and katana at his side.
"Mother, the preparations are..." But his voice trails off as he takes us in. He glares balefully at us, and at his mother, before storming from the room. The halfling and I exchange a glance.
It is Grinning Tiger Rules.
--Ocean Deeply Sleeps
DM note: notable moments--right after the Spider attacked Chameleon the first time, and dealt some horrendous amount of damage on 2d6+6, I said, "Hmmm. Maybe I underestimated the difficulty on this one." That really set the mood for the entire battle. I do not, by the way, pull punches, and I did not fudge the stats of the creature. It was an advanced huge monstrous spider going into the battle, and it remained one until its death. I figured that it was around CR 5, and I ended up giving the PCs xp for a CR 6 creature. Half of them survived, though. I don't know what they are complaining about.
Intelligent Chameleon Survives was a charismatic and insightful man and he died a hero's death. He will be missed.
Swift Serpent Strikes was a devout companion and an honorable man. He died a hero's death and he will be missed.
Ocean Deeply Sleeps is often quiet during the game, because her player is busy writing copious notes. 10 letter-sized pages is not uncommon for her. Nevertheless, the player brings an element of the emotional to the game, where the other players might otherwise wax analytical. Not that any of the players lacks in either area, however.
Fighting Man Dances is once again the hero of the hour. Just goes to show that the little people can do big things. They still won't be noticed, however...