Knightfall
World of Kulan DM
Another excellent update!
Dang, those Mari are everywhere.
Dang, those Mari are everywhere.
To War Against Felenga (FINAL UPDATE POSTED!)
- Thread starter the Jester
- Start date
the Jester
Legend
Knightfall1972 said:Another excellent update!
Dang, those Mari are everywhere.
Actually, all that bit is news to the players.
Knightfall
World of Kulan DM
the Jester said:Actually, all that bit is news to the players.
So did they groan in pain?
BTW Jester, check out this thread, if you haven't already. More World of Kulan goodness. Heh.
the Jester
Legend
A Fateful Decision
“So the mouth doesn’t just disintegrate you,” Lester muses.
“Apparently not,” Thrush says. “But I wouldn’t count on it.”
“There must be some sort of key, but what?” wonders Orbius.
“Well, look- I’ll try to commune,” Lester offers. “I’ve been learning some meditative and oracular techniques from the Eye and I’d like to try them out.”*
And so, the L sends his mind into a state of communion. He does not follow a specific god; he worships the powerful elements that underpin the material world. Thus, his first question is not unexpected.
Who am I communing with?
The answer, really, is not unexpected either: Yes or no.
Oh yeah, thinks a disgruntled Lester.
Am I communing with Malford? No.
Will Thrush and Sybele’s kids turn out good if they are raised by a retired Thrush and Sybele? Probably.
Can the ill effects of the Deleter on Angelfire be removed while it’s on her? Yes and no.
Will Angelfire most likely resist if we try to take or persuade her to give up the Deleter? Yes.
Will a shatter spell work against the demilich? Unknown.
Are there any priests in Var other than Horbin who can fix Patyn’s jaw? Yes.
Can Ulla turn herself into something that will protect her from the hostile effects of the plane Rex was on after going through the mouth? Unknown.
Will an airboat work there? Unknown.
Will the demilich return to its crypt within a week? Unknown.
Has Ferranifer already rebuilt the part of the Academy we destroyed? Yes.
“Crap,” mutters the L.
Have they rescued the assassin we petrified? No.
He pauses and scratches at his beard for a moment, thinking.
Will garlic really keep vampires away? Sometimes.
Does Ferranifer keep her coffin within the Academy grounds? Yes and no.
Have the angels in Heaven noticed and accepted me as Malford’s angel of adventure? No.
“Aw, man,” he whines.
Are the forces of Heaven making headway in locating Prayzose? None of your business.
“Hmph,” the L snorts.
Would they accept my aid if I offered it freely? Possibly.
Can anyone in Var restore Angelfire’s full power while the Deleter is on? No.
If I cast a stone to flesh on the hand carrying the vampire assassin’s sword, will it be restored? Yes.
“Hey, all right!” Lester brightens. “Well, you guys, I found out a few things about a few things- mostly that nobody knows much about the demilich or that plane Rex went to, but the important thing is, I think I can restore the sword from that vampire!”
***
The Eye casts a vision on the Tomb of Horrors itself, and when he emerges shaking from his spell, he tells them that he saw the party pass through the mouth and die. “Just like Azekia,” Horbin mutters.
“Well, look, we already know that we can pass through, right?” says Lester. “So here’s what we’ll do. We’ll buff up, I’ll summon some elementals and we’ll go through. We’ll use some protections from cold, maybe have Horbin death ward us- Patyn, can you help with that too?- and then Orbius will use a trump to keep in touch while I go through the mouth and lead the way.”
Rex cries, “You want to go back through there? Are you insane?”
“We should definitely rest first,” Ulla offers. “Rex and Patyn need a lot more healing before they can go on.”
“All right,” grumbles the L, “good point. But we need to get going.” He keeps mumbling to himself, something about a geas...
Soon, in a little better shape, our bruised and battered heroes approach the great green face. Ulla and Rex glance at each other uneasily.
“Okay,” Lester says brightly, “buff up, everyone!” There are a few moments of spellcasting, and then everyone is covered by a dramatic array of mystical protections and a group of air elementals has been summoned forth. Orbius shuffles out Lester’s trump and concentrates on it until both card and elementalist shimmer with a rainbow aura.
“All right, guys,” Lester says to the elementals, “Let’s go!” And he leaps bravely into the face of the fiend.
“Uh-oh,” says Orbius.
“What?” asks Drelvin.
“I just lost trump contact with him.”
*Lester has taken a level in divine oracle.
Next Time: Clearly, what the party needs is... the Advice of an Imp!
“So the mouth doesn’t just disintegrate you,” Lester muses.
“Apparently not,” Thrush says. “But I wouldn’t count on it.”
“There must be some sort of key, but what?” wonders Orbius.
“Well, look- I’ll try to commune,” Lester offers. “I’ve been learning some meditative and oracular techniques from the Eye and I’d like to try them out.”*
And so, the L sends his mind into a state of communion. He does not follow a specific god; he worships the powerful elements that underpin the material world. Thus, his first question is not unexpected.
Who am I communing with?
The answer, really, is not unexpected either: Yes or no.
Oh yeah, thinks a disgruntled Lester.
Am I communing with Malford? No.
Will Thrush and Sybele’s kids turn out good if they are raised by a retired Thrush and Sybele? Probably.
Can the ill effects of the Deleter on Angelfire be removed while it’s on her? Yes and no.
Will Angelfire most likely resist if we try to take or persuade her to give up the Deleter? Yes.
Will a shatter spell work against the demilich? Unknown.
Are there any priests in Var other than Horbin who can fix Patyn’s jaw? Yes.
Can Ulla turn herself into something that will protect her from the hostile effects of the plane Rex was on after going through the mouth? Unknown.
Will an airboat work there? Unknown.
Will the demilich return to its crypt within a week? Unknown.
Has Ferranifer already rebuilt the part of the Academy we destroyed? Yes.
“Crap,” mutters the L.
Have they rescued the assassin we petrified? No.
He pauses and scratches at his beard for a moment, thinking.
Will garlic really keep vampires away? Sometimes.
Does Ferranifer keep her coffin within the Academy grounds? Yes and no.
Have the angels in Heaven noticed and accepted me as Malford’s angel of adventure? No.
“Aw, man,” he whines.
Are the forces of Heaven making headway in locating Prayzose? None of your business.
“Hmph,” the L snorts.
Would they accept my aid if I offered it freely? Possibly.
Can anyone in Var restore Angelfire’s full power while the Deleter is on? No.
If I cast a stone to flesh on the hand carrying the vampire assassin’s sword, will it be restored? Yes.
“Hey, all right!” Lester brightens. “Well, you guys, I found out a few things about a few things- mostly that nobody knows much about the demilich or that plane Rex went to, but the important thing is, I think I can restore the sword from that vampire!”
***
The Eye casts a vision on the Tomb of Horrors itself, and when he emerges shaking from his spell, he tells them that he saw the party pass through the mouth and die. “Just like Azekia,” Horbin mutters.
“Well, look, we already know that we can pass through, right?” says Lester. “So here’s what we’ll do. We’ll buff up, I’ll summon some elementals and we’ll go through. We’ll use some protections from cold, maybe have Horbin death ward us- Patyn, can you help with that too?- and then Orbius will use a trump to keep in touch while I go through the mouth and lead the way.”
Rex cries, “You want to go back through there? Are you insane?”
“We should definitely rest first,” Ulla offers. “Rex and Patyn need a lot more healing before they can go on.”
“All right,” grumbles the L, “good point. But we need to get going.” He keeps mumbling to himself, something about a geas...
Soon, in a little better shape, our bruised and battered heroes approach the great green face. Ulla and Rex glance at each other uneasily.
“Okay,” Lester says brightly, “buff up, everyone!” There are a few moments of spellcasting, and then everyone is covered by a dramatic array of mystical protections and a group of air elementals has been summoned forth. Orbius shuffles out Lester’s trump and concentrates on it until both card and elementalist shimmer with a rainbow aura.
“All right, guys,” Lester says to the elementals, “Let’s go!” And he leaps bravely into the face of the fiend.
“Uh-oh,” says Orbius.
“What?” asks Drelvin.
“I just lost trump contact with him.”
*Lester has taken a level in divine oracle.
Next Time: Clearly, what the party needs is... the Advice of an Imp!
the Jester
Legend
Advice from an Imp
“I don’t know,” Thrush says hesitantly. “I’m not sure we should just charge on through it...”
“No kidding,” Rex says.
“Well, Lester-“ Orbius starts.
”We don’t know what happened to Lester,” Thrush says.
“But Rex-“
“Maybe there was something special about Rex,” Thrush suggests.
“You’re crazy if you want to go through that mouth,” Rex adds.
“I know,” says Angelfire. “Let’s get some advice!” And she promptly sets out to call forth a lesser planar ally. In less time than it takes to tell, there’s a puff of foul-smelling vapor and a bright red imp appears. A quick bargaining session later, the imp has been persuaded to help them solve the mystery of the face.
”Well, what clues do you have?” the little fiend asks. (He gives his name as Balthazar the bookkeeper.)
The party recites for him the riddle of the tomb- The face of the fiend does more than devour; with the least of my form tis the gap to power. The imp purses his lips and asks for the whole story, and the party relates a fair share of the details of their adventures so far since coming to the Tomb of Horrors. He commiserates with them about their losses and pains, then asks if they’ve found any other clues.
“Well,” Ulla tells him, “there was the dust in the demilich’s chamber.”
“What do you mean?” Balthazar asks.
“We found- the demilich’s little cushioned pedestal, it had lots of dust from his bones. But there was an area where it looked liked someone had gathered some up.”
“That’s why some of us gathered it up,” Patyn throws in.
“Aha,” the imp says, rubbing his hands together, breaking out into a grin. “That’s the secret, then. And I’ll wager the two of you that ventured through and returned had some of the dust, too, eh?”
“I did,” Rex answers, and Patyn nods slowly too.
“There it is!” Balthazar cries. “Well, what do you think ‘the least of my form’ is?” The imp licks his lips, little wings flapping as his pudgy body lifts into the air and he hoots gleefully. “Dust of the demilich! With the dust, you can pass through the mouth!”
“Did Lester have any of the dust?” Sybele asks.
Orbius frowns darkly. “No.”
Silence.
“Well,” the Eye says briskly, “no time for that now. When we can arrange for Horbin to do it, maybe he can true resurrect him or something.” His face is set stoically.
The group pools their resources. Those who took the dust took enough to pass some around the rest of the party, ensuring that everyone has a pinch. But our heroes are nervous.
“What if you’re wrong?” Angel demands.
“I’m not,” Balthazar assures her. “Look, we’re about done here, so why don’t you pay me and I’ll be on my way.”
“We aren’t done yet. We don’t know that you’re right. Why don’t you come with us and make sure?” Angelfire’s grinning.
“No, that’s not part of our agreement,” Balthazar argues. “You wanted advice, I gave it to you. We’re done. Pay up.”
“How about this,” Angelfire offers smoothly. “I’ll pay you for what you’ve done, throw it a tip, and give you... hmm... an extra 5000 gold... if you’ll come through with us and advise us on what we see there.”
The imp licks his lips. His barbed tail lashes like an agitated cat’s. Finally, he says, “Okay, I’ll step through with you but if there’s danger, that’s it, I’m gone.”
“You come through in a safe place. At least, I did.” Rex shakes his head. “But you’re all crazy to want to go back there. That place sucks.” There’s a touch of fright in his voice.
“And you pay now,” the imp adds.
Angelfire hands over the money gladly, then gives the imp a pinch of the dust.
And they all go through the mouth.
Next Time: The Vestige!
“I don’t know,” Thrush says hesitantly. “I’m not sure we should just charge on through it...”
“No kidding,” Rex says.
“Well, Lester-“ Orbius starts.
”We don’t know what happened to Lester,” Thrush says.
“But Rex-“
“Maybe there was something special about Rex,” Thrush suggests.
“You’re crazy if you want to go through that mouth,” Rex adds.
“I know,” says Angelfire. “Let’s get some advice!” And she promptly sets out to call forth a lesser planar ally. In less time than it takes to tell, there’s a puff of foul-smelling vapor and a bright red imp appears. A quick bargaining session later, the imp has been persuaded to help them solve the mystery of the face.
”Well, what clues do you have?” the little fiend asks. (He gives his name as Balthazar the bookkeeper.)
The party recites for him the riddle of the tomb- The face of the fiend does more than devour; with the least of my form tis the gap to power. The imp purses his lips and asks for the whole story, and the party relates a fair share of the details of their adventures so far since coming to the Tomb of Horrors. He commiserates with them about their losses and pains, then asks if they’ve found any other clues.
“Well,” Ulla tells him, “there was the dust in the demilich’s chamber.”
“What do you mean?” Balthazar asks.
“We found- the demilich’s little cushioned pedestal, it had lots of dust from his bones. But there was an area where it looked liked someone had gathered some up.”
“That’s why some of us gathered it up,” Patyn throws in.
“Aha,” the imp says, rubbing his hands together, breaking out into a grin. “That’s the secret, then. And I’ll wager the two of you that ventured through and returned had some of the dust, too, eh?”
“I did,” Rex answers, and Patyn nods slowly too.
“There it is!” Balthazar cries. “Well, what do you think ‘the least of my form’ is?” The imp licks his lips, little wings flapping as his pudgy body lifts into the air and he hoots gleefully. “Dust of the demilich! With the dust, you can pass through the mouth!”
“Did Lester have any of the dust?” Sybele asks.
Orbius frowns darkly. “No.”
Silence.
“Well,” the Eye says briskly, “no time for that now. When we can arrange for Horbin to do it, maybe he can true resurrect him or something.” His face is set stoically.
The group pools their resources. Those who took the dust took enough to pass some around the rest of the party, ensuring that everyone has a pinch. But our heroes are nervous.
“What if you’re wrong?” Angel demands.
“I’m not,” Balthazar assures her. “Look, we’re about done here, so why don’t you pay me and I’ll be on my way.”
“We aren’t done yet. We don’t know that you’re right. Why don’t you come with us and make sure?” Angelfire’s grinning.
“No, that’s not part of our agreement,” Balthazar argues. “You wanted advice, I gave it to you. We’re done. Pay up.”
“How about this,” Angelfire offers smoothly. “I’ll pay you for what you’ve done, throw it a tip, and give you... hmm... an extra 5000 gold... if you’ll come through with us and advise us on what we see there.”
The imp licks his lips. His barbed tail lashes like an agitated cat’s. Finally, he says, “Okay, I’ll step through with you but if there’s danger, that’s it, I’m gone.”
“You come through in a safe place. At least, I did.” Rex shakes his head. “But you’re all crazy to want to go back there. That place sucks.” There’s a touch of fright in his voice.
“And you pay now,” the imp adds.
Angelfire hands over the money gladly, then gives the imp a pinch of the dust.
And they all go through the mouth.
Next Time: The Vestige!
Mathew_Freeman
Adventurer
These players are crazy! Looking forward to what happens next...
Looking forward to what happens next...
Knightfall
World of Kulan DM
Another great update, Jester. Too bad about Lester.
the Jester
Legend
Long ago, there was a city that worshiped Orcus, Demon Prince of the Undead. Orcus was a cruel and unforgiving master, but the people of his city were fervent in their devotion to him and were blessed with his favor.
Moil was the name of this city.
One day, a new god came in secret to some of Moil’s people. This god was almost the antithesis of Orcus; he was a god of the sun, of the light, of goodness. Surely once Orcus discovered the new followers of this god he would crush them utterly; but they worked in secret, converting others to hope in secret hallowed areas where the name of the Prince of the Undead had never been spoken. The following grew for several years before Orcus became aware of its existence, and then it was too late to crush it in one fell swoop. He destroyed those he found and set hunters loose to find the rest, but they made more converts, secret cells of light-followers.
The sun god’s following grew.
Eventually, they became powerful enough to oppose Orcus’ priests openly, and much street warfare ensued. In the end, the city of Moil turned from its dark god and cast down the powerful cleric who ruled the city (he was called the Wand, in honor of Orcus’ dread talisman of power).
And Orcus was wroth.
As the citizens of Moil slept the night after their victory over Orcus’ Wand, the demon prince laid a terrible curse upon it: that its citizens should sleep until they see the light of the sunrise.
Then, horrible in his rage and power, Orcus tore Moil from its native world of Ranais and pushed it to the very border of the Plane of Negative Energy. Much of the city broke away and tumbled into the Void as Moil balanced precariously above utter destruction.
“HERE YOU SHALL STAY!!” Orcus boomed, bluish flames burning all across his body in his wrath. “FOR HERE THERE IS NO SUNRISE!! YOU SHALL REMAIN AS A TESTAMENT TO THE WRATH OF ORCUS!!!”
And with that, Orcus left the City That Waits to its terrible fate.
The Moilians froze over. Negative energy seeped in to their forms, filling many of them with a terrible version of undeath, hungry for life force to feed upon. Worse still, their trapped, dreaming souls, unable to escape, were bound up by Orcus’ curse into a terrible, terrible thing.
Icy cold, dark save for the strobing of lightning, utterly silent. The hoar frost came, covering everything. And Moil lay undisturbed for hundreds of years, until its discovery by Acererak.
Orcus, meanwhile, ceased to be; for he was tricked and murdered by Kiaranselee, a dark Drow goddess. Alas, Orcus! The balance of power in the eternal wars of the Abyss shifted as Demogorgon and Graz’zt turned their focuses on each other, leaving the goddess to pluck the pieces of Orcus’ estate like a vulture.
All of which, of course, is a tale for another time. Our heroes find themselves atop a dark bridge. Before them is a huge stone scrawled with seemingly chaotic runes. There is no sign of the L.
“Abyssal,” comments the imp with a glance at the stone. “I’ll translate for you for an additional 2500 gp...” He smiles wickedly at Angelfire.
She asks, “How much to stick around and help us out?”
“Hells, no,” the imp chuckles. “I’m going to advise you and get out of here. But, as I said, I’ll also translate for a small additional fee...”
Angelfire forks it over good naturedly.
“It’s in Abyssal,” the imp declares. “There’s a poem- no! A song! Here, I’ll sing it!” He clears his throat and begins in a mocking sing-song voice-
”This City That Waits-“
He stops. “Actually, there’s an intro first. Here, this is what that says- ‘Acererak is impressed; you now stand under the darkling sky that most never dreamt of. Your only path is forward through this crumbling demiplane of broken piety.’ Oh, broken piety- good one. This guy’s good! Anyway, it goes on, ‘The journey shall task you to your mortal limits. However, this verse may help you on your way to me within the Void, where you shall receive a fitting prize for your persistence.’”
Then, resuming his sing-song voice, the imp mockingly sings,
”This City That Waits was the city of Moil,
Where dreams truly died, but bodies yet toil,
In slumber unrelenting they lie yet in wait
Biding their time to seal your fate.
Discovery of the Void- that’s capitalized, and so it the first bit, about the City That Waits- anyway,
Demands exploration through peril again.
Find amid towers degenerate the single key
And resolve the dilemma of problems three.
Beard the brine dragon in its frozen hollow;
Remove the key, avoid its starved swallow.
Beneath webs of glowing emerald
Hangs a riddle-box, ripe to be solved. Man, this guy’s great! I wonder if he’s done any more songs!
The darkweaver endures the cold in her lair;
Grasp your fate with consummate care.
The lifeless dream that marks the crime
Is the Vestige that guards the sand of time.
Each resolution removes one obstacle
For those who pursue this written oracle;
The Phantom released flies you in fashion
To my inevitable Fortress of Conclusion. Fortress of Conclusion, wow, what a cool name! This guy’s great! I’d like to meet him, you know?”
“Great,” says Horbin. “You know-“
“As to my advice,” Balthazar interrupts, “this looks to me like a demiplane. It could have its own weird rules or characteristics, but that looks nasty down there.” He gestures down at the blackness below the bridges. “I’d stay out of it if I were you. This place sounds gloomy- I think the name Moil had something to do with Orcus once.”
“Like that currency we found,” Drelvin comments.
“Maybe it’s from here?” Horbin wonders.
Grinning, the imp adds, “Gotta go,” and he vanishes.
“You know,” Horbin comments, “We didn’t need him for that. I have my helm- it shows me subtitles under writing. I could’ve translated that for us.”
Angelfire shrugs cheerfully. She liked that little fellow. He was pretty darn helpful.
The party turns to regard the City That Waits before them. In a flash of lightning, Angelfire thinks she catches a glimpse of something moving in the distance, but it’s gone when she looks again. Shrugging to herself, she winces momentarily as the Deleter suddenly provokes sharp pains in her hands. Still, she knows it’s for the best; the Deleter will make her so powerful, powerful beyond measure. She knows it! She merely must unlock its hidden powers.
“Well, let’s get to it,” says Thrush, looking all around. There are towers piercing the blackness around them; storm clouds roil above. Silent flashes of lightning punctuate the darkness. The party carries a number of lights; they can see near at hand three bridges.
In the distance, a terrible, terrible thing sees them.
Next Time: Attack of the Vestige!
Moil was the name of this city.
One day, a new god came in secret to some of Moil’s people. This god was almost the antithesis of Orcus; he was a god of the sun, of the light, of goodness. Surely once Orcus discovered the new followers of this god he would crush them utterly; but they worked in secret, converting others to hope in secret hallowed areas where the name of the Prince of the Undead had never been spoken. The following grew for several years before Orcus became aware of its existence, and then it was too late to crush it in one fell swoop. He destroyed those he found and set hunters loose to find the rest, but they made more converts, secret cells of light-followers.
The sun god’s following grew.
Eventually, they became powerful enough to oppose Orcus’ priests openly, and much street warfare ensued. In the end, the city of Moil turned from its dark god and cast down the powerful cleric who ruled the city (he was called the Wand, in honor of Orcus’ dread talisman of power).
And Orcus was wroth.
As the citizens of Moil slept the night after their victory over Orcus’ Wand, the demon prince laid a terrible curse upon it: that its citizens should sleep until they see the light of the sunrise.
Then, horrible in his rage and power, Orcus tore Moil from its native world of Ranais and pushed it to the very border of the Plane of Negative Energy. Much of the city broke away and tumbled into the Void as Moil balanced precariously above utter destruction.
“HERE YOU SHALL STAY!!” Orcus boomed, bluish flames burning all across his body in his wrath. “FOR HERE THERE IS NO SUNRISE!! YOU SHALL REMAIN AS A TESTAMENT TO THE WRATH OF ORCUS!!!”
And with that, Orcus left the City That Waits to its terrible fate.
The Moilians froze over. Negative energy seeped in to their forms, filling many of them with a terrible version of undeath, hungry for life force to feed upon. Worse still, their trapped, dreaming souls, unable to escape, were bound up by Orcus’ curse into a terrible, terrible thing.
Icy cold, dark save for the strobing of lightning, utterly silent. The hoar frost came, covering everything. And Moil lay undisturbed for hundreds of years, until its discovery by Acererak.
Orcus, meanwhile, ceased to be; for he was tricked and murdered by Kiaranselee, a dark Drow goddess. Alas, Orcus! The balance of power in the eternal wars of the Abyss shifted as Demogorgon and Graz’zt turned their focuses on each other, leaving the goddess to pluck the pieces of Orcus’ estate like a vulture.
All of which, of course, is a tale for another time. Our heroes find themselves atop a dark bridge. Before them is a huge stone scrawled with seemingly chaotic runes. There is no sign of the L.
“Abyssal,” comments the imp with a glance at the stone. “I’ll translate for you for an additional 2500 gp...” He smiles wickedly at Angelfire.
She asks, “How much to stick around and help us out?”
“Hells, no,” the imp chuckles. “I’m going to advise you and get out of here. But, as I said, I’ll also translate for a small additional fee...”
Angelfire forks it over good naturedly.
“It’s in Abyssal,” the imp declares. “There’s a poem- no! A song! Here, I’ll sing it!” He clears his throat and begins in a mocking sing-song voice-
”This City That Waits-“
He stops. “Actually, there’s an intro first. Here, this is what that says- ‘Acererak is impressed; you now stand under the darkling sky that most never dreamt of. Your only path is forward through this crumbling demiplane of broken piety.’ Oh, broken piety- good one. This guy’s good! Anyway, it goes on, ‘The journey shall task you to your mortal limits. However, this verse may help you on your way to me within the Void, where you shall receive a fitting prize for your persistence.’”
Then, resuming his sing-song voice, the imp mockingly sings,
”This City That Waits was the city of Moil,
Where dreams truly died, but bodies yet toil,
In slumber unrelenting they lie yet in wait
Biding their time to seal your fate.
Discovery of the Void- that’s capitalized, and so it the first bit, about the City That Waits- anyway,
Demands exploration through peril again.
Find amid towers degenerate the single key
And resolve the dilemma of problems three.
Beard the brine dragon in its frozen hollow;
Remove the key, avoid its starved swallow.
Beneath webs of glowing emerald
Hangs a riddle-box, ripe to be solved. Man, this guy’s great! I wonder if he’s done any more songs!
The darkweaver endures the cold in her lair;
Grasp your fate with consummate care.
The lifeless dream that marks the crime
Is the Vestige that guards the sand of time.
Each resolution removes one obstacle
For those who pursue this written oracle;
The Phantom released flies you in fashion
To my inevitable Fortress of Conclusion. Fortress of Conclusion, wow, what a cool name! This guy’s great! I’d like to meet him, you know?”
“Great,” says Horbin. “You know-“
“As to my advice,” Balthazar interrupts, “this looks to me like a demiplane. It could have its own weird rules or characteristics, but that looks nasty down there.” He gestures down at the blackness below the bridges. “I’d stay out of it if I were you. This place sounds gloomy- I think the name Moil had something to do with Orcus once.”
“Like that currency we found,” Drelvin comments.
“Maybe it’s from here?” Horbin wonders.
Grinning, the imp adds, “Gotta go,” and he vanishes.
“You know,” Horbin comments, “We didn’t need him for that. I have my helm- it shows me subtitles under writing. I could’ve translated that for us.”
Angelfire shrugs cheerfully. She liked that little fellow. He was pretty darn helpful.
The party turns to regard the City That Waits before them. In a flash of lightning, Angelfire thinks she catches a glimpse of something moving in the distance, but it’s gone when she looks again. Shrugging to herself, she winces momentarily as the Deleter suddenly provokes sharp pains in her hands. Still, she knows it’s for the best; the Deleter will make her so powerful, powerful beyond measure. She knows it! She merely must unlock its hidden powers.
“Well, let’s get to it,” says Thrush, looking all around. There are towers piercing the blackness around them; storm clouds roil above. Silent flashes of lightning punctuate the darkness. The party carries a number of lights; they can see near at hand three bridges.
In the distance, a terrible, terrible thing sees them.
Next Time: Attack of the Vestige!
Knightfall
World of Kulan DM
Awsone update, Jester. So did you get up, prance around, and sing as the imp. Heh. 
BTW, I've added Cat Races, Avian Races, and Dragon Races to my World of Kulan Thread in the Rogues Gallery.
Cheers!
KF72
BTW, I've added Cat Races, Avian Races, and Dragon Races to my World of Kulan Thread in the Rogues Gallery.
Cheers!
KF72
