the Jester
Legend
Cheiromancer said:
What, you mean other than talk smack?
Wait til they meet the Doctor- then you'll see!
-
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To War Against Felenga (FINAL UPDATE POSTED!)
- Thread starter the Jester
- Start date
What, you mean other than talk smack?
Wait til they meet the Doctor- then you'll see!
the Jester
Legend
The Riddle-Box
Our heroes nervously free the large cube from its emerald tether. Sybele and Thrush (both of whom are larger than a normal member of their race through one form of magic or another)* fly up beneath it and catch it before it plunges into the Void.
“Let’s take it back to Var to mess with it,” Orbius suggests, and the others agree. A short trump contact later, the party has returned to the town that has become- more or less- their base.
The box is big and heavy, and with a grunt the two oversized adventurers deposit it on the ground. A close examination while it was still hanging had revealed three panels and some runes, and now our heroes examine the thing more closely. Horbin, with his helm of subtitles, translates the runes: “Many tails have I,/ or many a beginning;/ If I fail people sigh;/ Wails mark their passing.”
The three panels bear images of a mighty oak tree with many branching roots reaching into loamy soil, a cat with many hissing snake-headed tails, and a rope with one end frayed and partially unraveled.
“It’s the rope,” says Sybele instantly.
“Hold on,” Orbius cries. “We should be careful- it might be some kind of trap!”
Sybele shrugs and subsides as the party renders up its customary flurry of divinations. A pair of auguries are cast to determine whether weal or woe will result from pressing the cat or the rope panel; but the answer in ‘neither.’ Orbius casts a vision and sees them touching one of the panels, but on Moil. “We have to take it back to the City That Waits to use it,” he tells the others.
“Tomorrow,” says Angel.
***
That night, Sybele continues to expand her power of metamorphosis by changing into many different forms for Thrush’s enjoyment, starting with that of Queen Moira.
***
In the morning, Horbin issues a sending to Till. Don’t give up! I haven’t forgotten you- are you being treated well? I’m coming for you!
There is no reply.
Near the end of breakfast, the group is summoned by King Malford. “I’ve got to deal with a giant insurrection in the mountains,” he announces. “Don’t burn the place down while I’m gone, all right?” He glares at the L.
“Of course not,” Lester agrees easily.
“No more turning the hall to magma, or mud, or whatever!”
“Er, right,” Lester nods.
“And I’m sending you a bill for the repairs you’ve required.”
“No problem, no problem.” Inwardly, the L thinks, Damn- I’ll have to go adventuring some more. I don’t have any money.
Malford grunts and dismisses them, and our heroes once more take themselves away to the Demiplane of Moil, rooted at the edge of the Negative Energy Plane.
***
Lester auguries on the subject of touching the rope face of the cube, and the result is ‘weal.’
“That’s the bad one, I think,” the L comments. “No, wait a sec-“
Orbius, ignoring him, casts an augury regarding touching the tree. The answer is ‘neither.’ Nodding his head, he touches the rope panel. Nothing visible happens, so he scries the phantom flyer. With a grin, he declares, “The red bars are gone!”
***
”What do you suppose the sands of time that the Vestige guarded were?” Horbin asks. “We probably need them, right?”
“Good point,” Sybele says. “Maybe Orbius or Lester can divine where they are.”
Lester’s already done so. “The Dreaming Tower,” he announces.
“That sounds familiar,” Angelfire muses.
“Yeah,” says Horbin, “remember that Faericles guy?” Drelvin shudders. “He said something about that! He was guarding it or something, right?”
“Hey, now that I think about it,” Angel answers slowly, “wasn’t there a bridge that led out of the room he guarded?” She’s gazing at his tower. “I see the one we went in on- when we worked our way up through the rooms of the tower of test- but not the one we saw from inside.”
“You’re right,” says Drelvin. “It’s only visible from within!”
“Don’t tell me we have to work our way back up through there,” Patyn groans.
“I don’t think so- maybe we can fly up and find the bridge.”
It’s about time for another mass fly, so after that our heroes take flight. Indeed, they find the bridge- including a small opening in the side of the tower that leads back into Faericles’ chamber. They enter; from within, the bridge outside is plainly visible. And so is the tower it terminates in.
Our heroes take to the bridge.
Soon they have entered the next tower. A short hall has doors at either side; it ends at the central pillar that supports the shaft of the tower. A gaping hole in the floor leads to a dizzy fall to the Void churning below.
On a jutting platform affixed to the central pillar is a red stone dais, on which is an hourglass filled with blue sand. A message is engraved into the stone next to the hourglass in the same red stone as the platform itself. Horbin reads, “When the sand run out bring the glass about.” He turns to the others. “Pretty self-explanatory.”
He flips the hourglass and the sands start to run. Orbius sends his mobile scry to check the phantom flyer, but the situation is the same.
“I think we have to run the glass out and flip it again,” he states, and when they do- after an hour- his scrying eye shows the truth of the matter. “It worked! Two sets of bars down...”
Also in the tower the group finds a large store of vials of something that Horbin tells them is labeled ‘lucidaphen.’
“What’s that?” wonders Sybele.
“I’ve heard of it before,” Ten Buck Tom states. “It’s supposed to induce dreams of prophetic power!”
“It looks a little messed up, though,” Thrush says. “Look- these are kinda amber, but this one’s dark brown- yuck, it looks like it’s starting to congeal.”
The group again breaks into a debate on the merits of trying the lucidaphen when they rest. “After all, we don’t really know what to do next at this point,” points out Thrush.
“We should go after Acererak and destroy him!” exclaims Patyn. For once, Angelfire agrees with him. They exchange a frank look.
Everyone else, however, agrees that Felenga has to be their target. “He’s the key to everything we’ve been involved in for months,” says Horbin. “Let’s finish him off! That takes care of the Temple of Elemental Evil, it clears up half our problems in one fell swoop.”
“What else does Acererak’s riddle tell us? We killed the dragon and the dark weaver with her glowing webs-“
“What if the emerald webs and the dark weaver are separate challenges?” suggests Thrush suddenly.
“That might free up the last set of bars holding the phantom flyer,” answers Sybele.
“Okay- well, I’ve burned up most of my divinations for the day,” says Orbius. “Plus we’re out of flying and stuff. So let’s rest-“
“And try this lucidaphen stuff,” Angelfire interjects.
“-and tomorrow, we’ll try to figure out our next move.”
*One of Sybele’s warrior of chaos abilities was a size increase, with all the impressive stuff that entailed. Thrush was subject to enlarge and permanency by Orbius. Both of these things were in the story hour, but for those of you who either missed it or don’t go back that far, there’s the scoop.
Next Time: Our heroes take drugs and have weird dreams, then talk about it! Much information is divined! And our heroes find a real live Moilian! (Yes, live as in living!)
Our heroes nervously free the large cube from its emerald tether. Sybele and Thrush (both of whom are larger than a normal member of their race through one form of magic or another)* fly up beneath it and catch it before it plunges into the Void.
“Let’s take it back to Var to mess with it,” Orbius suggests, and the others agree. A short trump contact later, the party has returned to the town that has become- more or less- their base.
The box is big and heavy, and with a grunt the two oversized adventurers deposit it on the ground. A close examination while it was still hanging had revealed three panels and some runes, and now our heroes examine the thing more closely. Horbin, with his helm of subtitles, translates the runes: “Many tails have I,/ or many a beginning;/ If I fail people sigh;/ Wails mark their passing.”
The three panels bear images of a mighty oak tree with many branching roots reaching into loamy soil, a cat with many hissing snake-headed tails, and a rope with one end frayed and partially unraveled.
“It’s the rope,” says Sybele instantly.
“Hold on,” Orbius cries. “We should be careful- it might be some kind of trap!”
Sybele shrugs and subsides as the party renders up its customary flurry of divinations. A pair of auguries are cast to determine whether weal or woe will result from pressing the cat or the rope panel; but the answer in ‘neither.’ Orbius casts a vision and sees them touching one of the panels, but on Moil. “We have to take it back to the City That Waits to use it,” he tells the others.
“Tomorrow,” says Angel.
***
That night, Sybele continues to expand her power of metamorphosis by changing into many different forms for Thrush’s enjoyment, starting with that of Queen Moira.
***
In the morning, Horbin issues a sending to Till. Don’t give up! I haven’t forgotten you- are you being treated well? I’m coming for you!
There is no reply.
Near the end of breakfast, the group is summoned by King Malford. “I’ve got to deal with a giant insurrection in the mountains,” he announces. “Don’t burn the place down while I’m gone, all right?” He glares at the L.
“Of course not,” Lester agrees easily.
“No more turning the hall to magma, or mud, or whatever!”
“Er, right,” Lester nods.
“And I’m sending you a bill for the repairs you’ve required.”
“No problem, no problem.” Inwardly, the L thinks, Damn- I’ll have to go adventuring some more. I don’t have any money.
Malford grunts and dismisses them, and our heroes once more take themselves away to the Demiplane of Moil, rooted at the edge of the Negative Energy Plane.
***
Lester auguries on the subject of touching the rope face of the cube, and the result is ‘weal.’
“That’s the bad one, I think,” the L comments. “No, wait a sec-“
Orbius, ignoring him, casts an augury regarding touching the tree. The answer is ‘neither.’ Nodding his head, he touches the rope panel. Nothing visible happens, so he scries the phantom flyer. With a grin, he declares, “The red bars are gone!”
***
”What do you suppose the sands of time that the Vestige guarded were?” Horbin asks. “We probably need them, right?”
“Good point,” Sybele says. “Maybe Orbius or Lester can divine where they are.”
Lester’s already done so. “The Dreaming Tower,” he announces.
“That sounds familiar,” Angelfire muses.
“Yeah,” says Horbin, “remember that Faericles guy?” Drelvin shudders. “He said something about that! He was guarding it or something, right?”
“Hey, now that I think about it,” Angel answers slowly, “wasn’t there a bridge that led out of the room he guarded?” She’s gazing at his tower. “I see the one we went in on- when we worked our way up through the rooms of the tower of test- but not the one we saw from inside.”
“You’re right,” says Drelvin. “It’s only visible from within!”
“Don’t tell me we have to work our way back up through there,” Patyn groans.
“I don’t think so- maybe we can fly up and find the bridge.”
It’s about time for another mass fly, so after that our heroes take flight. Indeed, they find the bridge- including a small opening in the side of the tower that leads back into Faericles’ chamber. They enter; from within, the bridge outside is plainly visible. And so is the tower it terminates in.
Our heroes take to the bridge.
Soon they have entered the next tower. A short hall has doors at either side; it ends at the central pillar that supports the shaft of the tower. A gaping hole in the floor leads to a dizzy fall to the Void churning below.
On a jutting platform affixed to the central pillar is a red stone dais, on which is an hourglass filled with blue sand. A message is engraved into the stone next to the hourglass in the same red stone as the platform itself. Horbin reads, “When the sand run out bring the glass about.” He turns to the others. “Pretty self-explanatory.”
He flips the hourglass and the sands start to run. Orbius sends his mobile scry to check the phantom flyer, but the situation is the same.
“I think we have to run the glass out and flip it again,” he states, and when they do- after an hour- his scrying eye shows the truth of the matter. “It worked! Two sets of bars down...”
Also in the tower the group finds a large store of vials of something that Horbin tells them is labeled ‘lucidaphen.’
“What’s that?” wonders Sybele.
“I’ve heard of it before,” Ten Buck Tom states. “It’s supposed to induce dreams of prophetic power!”
“It looks a little messed up, though,” Thrush says. “Look- these are kinda amber, but this one’s dark brown- yuck, it looks like it’s starting to congeal.”
The group again breaks into a debate on the merits of trying the lucidaphen when they rest. “After all, we don’t really know what to do next at this point,” points out Thrush.
“We should go after Acererak and destroy him!” exclaims Patyn. For once, Angelfire agrees with him. They exchange a frank look.
Everyone else, however, agrees that Felenga has to be their target. “He’s the key to everything we’ve been involved in for months,” says Horbin. “Let’s finish him off! That takes care of the Temple of Elemental Evil, it clears up half our problems in one fell swoop.”
“What else does Acererak’s riddle tell us? We killed the dragon and the dark weaver with her glowing webs-“
“What if the emerald webs and the dark weaver are separate challenges?” suggests Thrush suddenly.
“That might free up the last set of bars holding the phantom flyer,” answers Sybele.
“Okay- well, I’ve burned up most of my divinations for the day,” says Orbius. “Plus we’re out of flying and stuff. So let’s rest-“
“And try this lucidaphen stuff,” Angelfire interjects.
“-and tomorrow, we’ll try to figure out our next move.”
*One of Sybele’s warrior of chaos abilities was a size increase, with all the impressive stuff that entailed. Thrush was subject to enlarge and permanency by Orbius. Both of these things were in the story hour, but for those of you who either missed it or don’t go back that far, there’s the scoop.
Next Time: Our heroes take drugs and have weird dreams, then talk about it! Much information is divined! And our heroes find a real live Moilian! (Yes, live as in living!)
the Jester
Legend
The lucidaphen tastes awful, like eating Lester’s shoes after he’s been on the road for a year or two and never taken them off. But several of out heroes sink into an easy sleep before too long, thanks to Angelfire’s nap spell, and several of them are plunged into vivid dreams.
Horbin dreams of their last encounter with Felenga. He dreams of the group retrieving the familiar and then leaving, but his dream’s eye stays focused on the ice tower. It wanders up, up... and somehow Horbin knows that time has passed, a full day by now... and Felenga returns to the area, entering an icy cave. He lays a symbol of death almost casually within the passage, then blasts something free from the ice.
Slowly it stands. Set in its chest is a great glaring gem. It is stitched together like a flesh golem, made of pieces of different creatures joined in an unholy fusion.
Somehow, Horbin realizes that this is Felenga’s phylactery. And he realizes just how close they were to the phylactery when last they encountered Felenga himself.
We were within a hundred feet, maybe even more like forty, Horbin the Holy realizes sickly. We could have done it- finished him right there!
He wakes up, blinking, and sits up. “Rargh!” he cries, “We almost had him!!” Quickly, he relates what he has learned to the others, and they all shake their heads in disgust at how near they came to ending this and destroying their foe.
“Well, I found out that the hourglass flipping only deactivates the bars for an hour,” Sybele tells the group. “So we have to bring down the last set before we flip the glass a second time.”
“I don’t feel well,” Angelfire mumbles. “I didn’t learn anything, but I think I got a bad dose.”
“Hah!” cries the Mask of the Devourer. “Of course you didn’t learn anything! You’re a fool!” Horbin and Patyn exchange a glance.
Clearly, it’s time for some divinations.
***
Orbius sends his mind out to a far plane, trying to glean information from an immense consciousness of unbearable power.
Where is Felenga’s phylacter? Uncertain, probably near him.
Where does Felenga spend the majority of his time these days? The Negative Energy Plane.
Is Felenga’s base of operations on a planar border? No.
What is Felenga’s most like course of action? He must wait.
What is he waiting for? Freedom.
Freedom from what? Acererak the demilich.
What the hell? thinks the Eye.
How many days until Felenga gains his freedom? Impossible to predict.
Are the Elemental Princes of Evil still in the Temple of Elemental Evil? Yes and no.
Are they in the nodes? No.
Where can we find Ogremoch? The Walking Mountain.
Orbius relates what he’s learned, and boy oh boy but our heroes are puzzled. They chew the situation over at length. Acererak’s imprisoned Felenga? How? For that matter, why? At least, points out Patyn, they aren’t working together. Finally, Thrush asks, “Can we do more stuff to find out more stuff?” and Lester grins and casts commune.
If we kill Acererak will Felenga be eternally imprisoned? Possibly.
Will we set Felenga free if we kill Acererak? Possibly.
Will Acererak seek to free Felenga if we attack him? Very unlikely.
Is there a tower left in Moil that we haven’t explored with some good action and treasure in it? Yes.
Is Acererak pleased with our progress through his gauntlet? Yes.
Is Felenga beyond our reach right now? No.
Do we have the power to set Felenga free? Yes.
Is the ride to the Fortress of Conclusion on the phantom flyer more than a day long? Yes.
More than two days long? Yes.
Three days? Yes.
Four? Yes.
Five? Yes.
Is it more than a week? No.
Is Felenga imprisoned within Acererak’s Fortress of Conclusion? Yes.
Envisioning the layout of the towers of Moil that he’s seen, Lester asks, Is the ‘action’ within the red tower to the south of our initial arrival point here? Yes.
Is the Devourer’s Mask likely to take over Angelfire within a day? No.
Will the Mask turn on us if we fight Acererak? Yes.
Is it within our means to remove the mask without killing Angelfire? Yes.
Will we be able to remove the Mask easily by conventional means if she’s subdued? No.
“Hmm, sounds like a long ride!” Lester exclaims, and gives the party a summary of what he learned- leaving out all questions regarding the mask until he can speak to those not wearing it without Angelfire overhearing. Maybe Londo could help, he thinks hopefully. He’s the one who got the Deleter off her, which reminds me- where the hell is it? For now, he puts the question out of mind; he’s still got a divination to cast.
A moment later, Lester declares, “Next we must overcome the darkweaver! But I thought we just did.”
“It must be a different creature, in a different tower,” nods Horbin.
“Of course it is, you fools!” the Mask cries.
“Well, you’re very helpful,” snaps Horbin.
“Maybe you could help us out,” Sybele suggests. “Can you do anything to help? Do you know your way around this place. Surely a great and powerful item such as yourself has seen much.”
”Oh, I have indeed! It’s good that you recognize my powers, perhaps I’ll spare you! But trifle with me and I shall devour you all!”
“Right, very helpful,” Horbin grumbles.
“Well, what next?” asks Thrush. “Where’s the darkweaver?”
“Hum, that’s a good question! Shoulda thought to ask that.” Lester ponders for a minute, then brightens. “Hey, but we know where the action is!”
“Well, then, sounds like a good place to go,” Thrush smiles.
“And tomorrow- when we have more divinations- we can track down the darkweaver- and free the phantom flyer,” Patyn says dramatically.
Next Time: Our heroes find some action- though probably not exactly what they were looking for!
Horbin dreams of their last encounter with Felenga. He dreams of the group retrieving the familiar and then leaving, but his dream’s eye stays focused on the ice tower. It wanders up, up... and somehow Horbin knows that time has passed, a full day by now... and Felenga returns to the area, entering an icy cave. He lays a symbol of death almost casually within the passage, then blasts something free from the ice.
Slowly it stands. Set in its chest is a great glaring gem. It is stitched together like a flesh golem, made of pieces of different creatures joined in an unholy fusion.
Somehow, Horbin realizes that this is Felenga’s phylactery. And he realizes just how close they were to the phylactery when last they encountered Felenga himself.
We were within a hundred feet, maybe even more like forty, Horbin the Holy realizes sickly. We could have done it- finished him right there!
He wakes up, blinking, and sits up. “Rargh!” he cries, “We almost had him!!” Quickly, he relates what he has learned to the others, and they all shake their heads in disgust at how near they came to ending this and destroying their foe.
“Well, I found out that the hourglass flipping only deactivates the bars for an hour,” Sybele tells the group. “So we have to bring down the last set before we flip the glass a second time.”
“I don’t feel well,” Angelfire mumbles. “I didn’t learn anything, but I think I got a bad dose.”
“Hah!” cries the Mask of the Devourer. “Of course you didn’t learn anything! You’re a fool!” Horbin and Patyn exchange a glance.
Clearly, it’s time for some divinations.
***
Orbius sends his mind out to a far plane, trying to glean information from an immense consciousness of unbearable power.
Where is Felenga’s phylacter? Uncertain, probably near him.
Where does Felenga spend the majority of his time these days? The Negative Energy Plane.
Is Felenga’s base of operations on a planar border? No.
What is Felenga’s most like course of action? He must wait.
What is he waiting for? Freedom.
Freedom from what? Acererak the demilich.
What the hell? thinks the Eye.
How many days until Felenga gains his freedom? Impossible to predict.
Are the Elemental Princes of Evil still in the Temple of Elemental Evil? Yes and no.
Are they in the nodes? No.
Where can we find Ogremoch? The Walking Mountain.
Orbius relates what he’s learned, and boy oh boy but our heroes are puzzled. They chew the situation over at length. Acererak’s imprisoned Felenga? How? For that matter, why? At least, points out Patyn, they aren’t working together. Finally, Thrush asks, “Can we do more stuff to find out more stuff?” and Lester grins and casts commune.
If we kill Acererak will Felenga be eternally imprisoned? Possibly.
Will we set Felenga free if we kill Acererak? Possibly.
Will Acererak seek to free Felenga if we attack him? Very unlikely.
Is there a tower left in Moil that we haven’t explored with some good action and treasure in it? Yes.
Is Acererak pleased with our progress through his gauntlet? Yes.
Is Felenga beyond our reach right now? No.
Do we have the power to set Felenga free? Yes.
Is the ride to the Fortress of Conclusion on the phantom flyer more than a day long? Yes.
More than two days long? Yes.
Three days? Yes.
Four? Yes.
Five? Yes.
Is it more than a week? No.
Is Felenga imprisoned within Acererak’s Fortress of Conclusion? Yes.
Envisioning the layout of the towers of Moil that he’s seen, Lester asks, Is the ‘action’ within the red tower to the south of our initial arrival point here? Yes.
Is the Devourer’s Mask likely to take over Angelfire within a day? No.
Will the Mask turn on us if we fight Acererak? Yes.
Is it within our means to remove the mask without killing Angelfire? Yes.
Will we be able to remove the Mask easily by conventional means if she’s subdued? No.
“Hmm, sounds like a long ride!” Lester exclaims, and gives the party a summary of what he learned- leaving out all questions regarding the mask until he can speak to those not wearing it without Angelfire overhearing. Maybe Londo could help, he thinks hopefully. He’s the one who got the Deleter off her, which reminds me- where the hell is it? For now, he puts the question out of mind; he’s still got a divination to cast.
A moment later, Lester declares, “Next we must overcome the darkweaver! But I thought we just did.”
“It must be a different creature, in a different tower,” nods Horbin.
“Of course it is, you fools!” the Mask cries.
“Well, you’re very helpful,” snaps Horbin.
“Maybe you could help us out,” Sybele suggests. “Can you do anything to help? Do you know your way around this place. Surely a great and powerful item such as yourself has seen much.”
”Oh, I have indeed! It’s good that you recognize my powers, perhaps I’ll spare you! But trifle with me and I shall devour you all!”
“Right, very helpful,” Horbin grumbles.
“Well, what next?” asks Thrush. “Where’s the darkweaver?”
“Hum, that’s a good question! Shoulda thought to ask that.” Lester ponders for a minute, then brightens. “Hey, but we know where the action is!”
“Well, then, sounds like a good place to go,” Thrush smiles.
“And tomorrow- when we have more divinations- we can track down the darkweaver- and free the phantom flyer,” Patyn says dramatically.
Next Time: Our heroes find some action- though probably not exactly what they were looking for!
the Jester
Legend
Mirror, Mirror
As usual, Orbius scouts the way ahead with his scrying sensor and arcane eye. The tower where the ‘action’ is reputed to be is mostly strewn with debris. Frost is everywhere, but here and there humanoid silhouettes are torn out of the ice that has formed everywhere. There are no immediate signs of danger, so our heroes move in and start searching around.
But, as Angelfire moves up a spiraling staircase tiled in green and blue, they find something interesting: a small satchel. Within it are a bunch of spell components of varied dubious nature: bones, scraps of leathery flesh, pickled eyes, and so forth. The interesting part isn’t the contents; it’s the labels.
“There are written in Forinthian!” exclaims Horbin.
There are no clues as to the satchel’s owner or his (?) fate, and nobody really wants the satchel so they leave it behind.
Then, as our heroes move into another chamber full of debris and ice, Angel and Patyn glance up to note a mirror on the ceiling.
Next thing they know, each of them is trapped in a white, shapeless void.
***
“Watch out!” Orbius cries. “It’s a mirror of life trapping! Don’t look up!”
“I’ve heard lots of stories about this kinda thing,” Ten Buck Tom says. “If we break it, they should be freed.”
“Let’s hope so,” says Horbin.
They Eye blasts the mirror of life trapping on the ceiling with a lightning bolt, and the sound of shattering glass is easy to discern; and with a ‘whoof’ both Angelfire and Patyn crash to the ground.
But so do two other forms, and suddenly everyone feels themselves starting to lose their life energy as it’s sucked into at least one of the creatures that just arrived.
Next Time: Who’s the chick??
As usual, Orbius scouts the way ahead with his scrying sensor and arcane eye. The tower where the ‘action’ is reputed to be is mostly strewn with debris. Frost is everywhere, but here and there humanoid silhouettes are torn out of the ice that has formed everywhere. There are no immediate signs of danger, so our heroes move in and start searching around.
But, as Angelfire moves up a spiraling staircase tiled in green and blue, they find something interesting: a small satchel. Within it are a bunch of spell components of varied dubious nature: bones, scraps of leathery flesh, pickled eyes, and so forth. The interesting part isn’t the contents; it’s the labels.
“There are written in Forinthian!” exclaims Horbin.
There are no clues as to the satchel’s owner or his (?) fate, and nobody really wants the satchel so they leave it behind.
Then, as our heroes move into another chamber full of debris and ice, Angel and Patyn glance up to note a mirror on the ceiling.
Next thing they know, each of them is trapped in a white, shapeless void.
***
“Watch out!” Orbius cries. “It’s a mirror of life trapping! Don’t look up!”
“I’ve heard lots of stories about this kinda thing,” Ten Buck Tom says. “If we break it, they should be freed.”
“Let’s hope so,” says Horbin.
They Eye blasts the mirror of life trapping on the ceiling with a lightning bolt, and the sound of shattering glass is easy to discern; and with a ‘whoof’ both Angelfire and Patyn crash to the ground.
But so do two other forms, and suddenly everyone feels themselves starting to lose their life energy as it’s sucked into at least one of the creatures that just arrived.
Next Time: Who’s the chick??
the Jester
Legend
A Real Live Moilian!
Waves of cold, life-sucking negative energy roll from the stiff corpse that’s even now pulling itself to its frozen feet. Someone- a female voice- is screaming in fear and pain in a language that a few of our more religiously learned heroes recognize as Abyssal.
Angelfire and Lester both move to attack the Moilian zombie as the screaming woman moves aside, pulling a shortsword out and backing away. Falchion and longsword crash into the grey flesh of the undead Moilian, knocking it back a few feet to where Londo has taking a stance with his flail; and he swings like a baseball batter, connecting with the small of the zombie’s back with a bone-shattering crunch.
Patyn smiles as he levers himself up. He swings his deadly sun blade and the zombie’s head flies from its shoulders. Unlike their previous experiences with the Moilian undead, the life-draining aura stops instantly.
“Like I told you,” Patyn says in his gravelly voice, “I kill ‘em dead.” And he sheathes his sword.
“Who’s the chick?” wonders Thrush.
Meanwhile, Orbius- with his permanent tongues- is trying to calm the woman. “It’s okay, we killed it,” he reassures her.
“Who are you people? What- what happened to the Tower of Chance?” She shivers. “It’s so cold... where are the attendants? What’s happened?!?”
“Uh, I think we’d better show you your city,” Orbius says slowly.
***
“No,” she whispers.
The woman- whose name is Lerxst- is a Moilian of old. She was imprisoned in the mirror as a result of losing a game of chance. How long ago? Who can say. Long enough, certainly, that she did not know of Moil’s terrible fate.
But she does now.
She is visibly crushed as she looks out the arch that leads out of the tower. The strobing lightning is the only illumination; the dark, numbing cold has a firm grip on Moil. “My people,” Lerxst whispers to herself. Her tears start turning to ice on her cheeks.
“Right, well, nothing to be done now,” says Lester cheerfully. “Listen, when we go back to our plane you can come with us. Just stick close to us and we’ll protect you. How’s that sound?”
“Do I have a choice?” Lerxst snaps bitterly.
“Not really,” answers Angelfire.
Our heroes keep exploring the Tower of Chance, searching for anything intact- a cashbox, anything. In a room that is obviously the remains of a bar, they find a hidden drawer containing some coins, minted with Orcus’ visage upon them.
Then, as our heroes enter a large room with three huge windows open to the black sky of Moil, a blast of freezing air runs over them. There are cries of pain as the chill soaks into them and a winter-wight steps into view. Instantly, Orbius casts lower resistance at it, and Lester follows with a quickened fire dagger and a maximized flame strike. The winter-wight, taken aback by this sudden onslaught of terrible holy flames, hisses in anger, but then a pale ray of green light shoots from Orbius’ finger- and the winter-wight disintegrates!
“Well done!” cries Thrush. “I hate those things.”
“They aren’t fun,” agrees Patyn.
***
Continuing their explorations, our heroes find a room with a bizarre, haphazard shape. There is more debris, like everywhere else here, and of course the omnipresent ice; but here there is a table still upright, with a wheel of sorts set upon it. All along the edge of the wheel are little slots, in one of which is a small black ball. Next to it on the wall is a plaque.
“In games of chance there are risks to be taken; the winner is rewarded but the loser forsaken.” Horbin purses his lips, reading the Abyssal inscription with his helm of subtitles. “Interesting.”
“I wonder what the wheel’s for,” Angel muses. As she speaks, it abruptly starts to spin. The little black ball bounces from its slot and dances merrily across the spinning wheel, until finally the wheel slows and stops and the ball lands in a slot.
Angelfire gives a terrible cry.
“What happened?” exclaims Sybele.
“I- I don’t know,” Angel winces. “Something... I feel like a piece of my life energy has been stolen!”* She groans in consternation. “What just happened??”
”Fool!” cries the Mask. ”That’s what you get for trifling with things beyond you!”
Horbin tries a number of powerful healing and restorative spells, but none seem to allow Angelfire to recoup her loss. “Wow, that sucks,” Horbin states glumly. “Maybe tomorrow I can come up with something...”
“This is terrible!” Lerxst says, speaking Abyssal, which, of course, only a few of our heroes can comprehend. “Terribly dangerous... we should go!”
“Hey, we’ve got things to do, but we’ll go back to a safe place before too long, and then you’ll be safe. Meantime, just stick with us- we’ll keep you safe.” Orbius smiles in what he hopes is a reassuring way.
“Either way, let’s get out of here so we don’t activate that thing again by accident,” Angel groans. The party assents and they all move into a nearby room.
“Maybe you said something that triggered it,” suggests Sybele.
“It’s obviously some sort of chaotic gambling device,” Lester opines, “where you can win or lose big. So if you feel lucky and you can figure out how to do it, you should go play. But if you mess up, well it might hurt. So it really just depends on how lucky you feel. Do you feel lucky?”
After some debate- Horbin strongly urges against it- Angel goes back into the room with the wheel and fiddles around with it some more. She can’t find a mechanism, so she talks aloud at it for a while. Then Thrush comes in to join her. “Hey, come on- you don’t know what might happen with this thing.”
“I obviously lost when it activated before. I want to know what would have happened if I won!”
At that moment the wheel reactivates.
”Ah, crap,” says Thrush.
Tink tink tink! goes the little black ball, bouncing, bouncing, and finally coming to rest.
Angelfire tries to shriek but can’t. She tries to raise her hands to her face but can’t- her hands are gone.
And even if she could- beneath the mask, her face is gone, too.
”Idiot! I warned you!” the Mask of the Devourer cackles gleefully.
*She just lost ten hit points permanently. Oops, how’d that happen??
Next Time: Horbin does some divining, Sybele gets an idea, and Lerxst finds out just how safe our heroes can keep her!
Waves of cold, life-sucking negative energy roll from the stiff corpse that’s even now pulling itself to its frozen feet. Someone- a female voice- is screaming in fear and pain in a language that a few of our more religiously learned heroes recognize as Abyssal.
Angelfire and Lester both move to attack the Moilian zombie as the screaming woman moves aside, pulling a shortsword out and backing away. Falchion and longsword crash into the grey flesh of the undead Moilian, knocking it back a few feet to where Londo has taking a stance with his flail; and he swings like a baseball batter, connecting with the small of the zombie’s back with a bone-shattering crunch.
Patyn smiles as he levers himself up. He swings his deadly sun blade and the zombie’s head flies from its shoulders. Unlike their previous experiences with the Moilian undead, the life-draining aura stops instantly.
“Like I told you,” Patyn says in his gravelly voice, “I kill ‘em dead.” And he sheathes his sword.
“Who’s the chick?” wonders Thrush.
Meanwhile, Orbius- with his permanent tongues- is trying to calm the woman. “It’s okay, we killed it,” he reassures her.
“Who are you people? What- what happened to the Tower of Chance?” She shivers. “It’s so cold... where are the attendants? What’s happened?!?”
“Uh, I think we’d better show you your city,” Orbius says slowly.
***
“No,” she whispers.
The woman- whose name is Lerxst- is a Moilian of old. She was imprisoned in the mirror as a result of losing a game of chance. How long ago? Who can say. Long enough, certainly, that she did not know of Moil’s terrible fate.
But she does now.
She is visibly crushed as she looks out the arch that leads out of the tower. The strobing lightning is the only illumination; the dark, numbing cold has a firm grip on Moil. “My people,” Lerxst whispers to herself. Her tears start turning to ice on her cheeks.
“Right, well, nothing to be done now,” says Lester cheerfully. “Listen, when we go back to our plane you can come with us. Just stick close to us and we’ll protect you. How’s that sound?”
“Do I have a choice?” Lerxst snaps bitterly.
“Not really,” answers Angelfire.
Our heroes keep exploring the Tower of Chance, searching for anything intact- a cashbox, anything. In a room that is obviously the remains of a bar, they find a hidden drawer containing some coins, minted with Orcus’ visage upon them.
Then, as our heroes enter a large room with three huge windows open to the black sky of Moil, a blast of freezing air runs over them. There are cries of pain as the chill soaks into them and a winter-wight steps into view. Instantly, Orbius casts lower resistance at it, and Lester follows with a quickened fire dagger and a maximized flame strike. The winter-wight, taken aback by this sudden onslaught of terrible holy flames, hisses in anger, but then a pale ray of green light shoots from Orbius’ finger- and the winter-wight disintegrates!
“Well done!” cries Thrush. “I hate those things.”
“They aren’t fun,” agrees Patyn.
***
Continuing their explorations, our heroes find a room with a bizarre, haphazard shape. There is more debris, like everywhere else here, and of course the omnipresent ice; but here there is a table still upright, with a wheel of sorts set upon it. All along the edge of the wheel are little slots, in one of which is a small black ball. Next to it on the wall is a plaque.
“In games of chance there are risks to be taken; the winner is rewarded but the loser forsaken.” Horbin purses his lips, reading the Abyssal inscription with his helm of subtitles. “Interesting.”
“I wonder what the wheel’s for,” Angel muses. As she speaks, it abruptly starts to spin. The little black ball bounces from its slot and dances merrily across the spinning wheel, until finally the wheel slows and stops and the ball lands in a slot.
Angelfire gives a terrible cry.
“What happened?” exclaims Sybele.
“I- I don’t know,” Angel winces. “Something... I feel like a piece of my life energy has been stolen!”* She groans in consternation. “What just happened??”
”Fool!” cries the Mask. ”That’s what you get for trifling with things beyond you!”
Horbin tries a number of powerful healing and restorative spells, but none seem to allow Angelfire to recoup her loss. “Wow, that sucks,” Horbin states glumly. “Maybe tomorrow I can come up with something...”
“This is terrible!” Lerxst says, speaking Abyssal, which, of course, only a few of our heroes can comprehend. “Terribly dangerous... we should go!”
“Hey, we’ve got things to do, but we’ll go back to a safe place before too long, and then you’ll be safe. Meantime, just stick with us- we’ll keep you safe.” Orbius smiles in what he hopes is a reassuring way.
“Either way, let’s get out of here so we don’t activate that thing again by accident,” Angel groans. The party assents and they all move into a nearby room.
“Maybe you said something that triggered it,” suggests Sybele.
“It’s obviously some sort of chaotic gambling device,” Lester opines, “where you can win or lose big. So if you feel lucky and you can figure out how to do it, you should go play. But if you mess up, well it might hurt. So it really just depends on how lucky you feel. Do you feel lucky?”
After some debate- Horbin strongly urges against it- Angel goes back into the room with the wheel and fiddles around with it some more. She can’t find a mechanism, so she talks aloud at it for a while. Then Thrush comes in to join her. “Hey, come on- you don’t know what might happen with this thing.”
“I obviously lost when it activated before. I want to know what would have happened if I won!”
At that moment the wheel reactivates.
”Ah, crap,” says Thrush.
Tink tink tink! goes the little black ball, bouncing, bouncing, and finally coming to rest.
Angelfire tries to shriek but can’t. She tries to raise her hands to her face but can’t- her hands are gone.
And even if she could- beneath the mask, her face is gone, too.
”Idiot! I warned you!” the Mask of the Devourer cackles gleefully.
*She just lost ten hit points permanently. Oops, how’d that happen??
Next Time: Horbin does some divining, Sybele gets an idea, and Lerxst finds out just how safe our heroes can keep her!
Knightfall
World of Kulan DM
Damn, Angel's luck has been real bad lately. She should learn to leave well enough alone. No face, ,no hands, that's not good... for her and for Londo.
the Jester
Legend
No Face Angel
“This is probably not our most shining moment,” comments Horbin dryly.
“Angelfire!” Londo groans.
No hands, no face...
”You’re useless,” the Mask of the Devourer sneers to Angelfire. “I should devour you now and put you out of your stinking misery!”
“No!” barks Londo. “Surely it will better if you simply move to a new host- someone more capable of fulfilling your needs.” A grim smile traces his face.
”Are you volunteering?” The Mask’s voice is jovial, but tinged with threat.
“Oh yes,” Londo answers, never blinking, and the Mask flows from Angel’s featureless head to his, pulling itself eerily up his arm and over his face until he bears the Devourer’s visage.
”Much better! Fool! Now I can see!”
“I’m not sure if I like this,” Horbin whispers to Lester.
***
With the Mask off of her, our heroes determine to use the strongest magicks at their disposals to try to repair her- after they regain their spells. For Horbin, that’s only a few more hours. So they explore a little further, Londo leading Angel along and the voice of the Mask, always sneering, echoing behind.
As they walk along the frosty crust above the floor, Sybele says to Thrush, “This place gives me an idea!”
“What’s that?”
“We should open a casino! With all the money we’re gonna make from the demilich, and Felenga, we’ll be rich!”
Thrush smiles. “Yes- once we’ve dealt with our enemies. And then we should retire, and raise our children.”
That word makes Sybele shiver inside.
They don’t find much trouble, but our heroes do find a magical cloak. The entire party has magical cloaks that they don’t want to give up, so they give it the Lerxst. She puts it on gratefully, and then gurgles in displeasure and sinks to the floor drooling.
“Oh no!” Horbin exclaims. He whips the cloak off of her, but it has no effect. He groans. “Didn’t we just tell her how safe she was with us?”
“You can fix her,” Lester smiles. “I have faith in you.”
***
That evening, after regaining his spells, Horbin the Holy communes with his god. Orbius pesters him to check the loyalty of his simulacrum, but Horbin refuses to commit. “Only if I run out of better questions to ask,” he finally half-agrees.
Is the girl’s intelligence drained? No.
Is her wisdom drained? No.
Is her charisma drained? No.
Will a greater restoration fix her? No.
Will a heal or mass heal fix her? Yes and no.
It must be a curse, Horbin thinks.
Is the darkweaver in this tower? No.
Is there treasure above us in this tower? No.
Is Till conscious most of the time? No.
Is he is some kind of suspended form? No.
Do we still have to face the darkweaver to kill Felenga? Probably.
Will completing our quest here weaken the Temple of Elemental Evil? Yes.
Will the Temple of Elemental Evil attempt major military campaigns in the spring or summer?* Yes.
Before the summer? Yes.
This month? No.
Do the uprisings Malford is putting down have anything to do with this? No.
Are there spies for the Temple of Elemental Evil within Malford’s court? Yes.
Are any of these spies in his bodyguard? No.
Are any regular attendees at court? Yes.
Are any noblemen of Dorhaus? No.
What the hell, he sighs.
Is Orbius’ simulacrum still loyal to him? Yes.
Well, that’s something, anyway, the cleric thinks.
Horbin relates the gist of what he’s learned. “We need to warn Malford,” he says grimly.
“No problem,” reassures Lester. Shortly, Orbius trumps to Var, then back to Lester.
“Those are my only two trumps left,” groans the L. “Oh well, easy come, easy go.”
And he sighs, thinking of all the rest of his old friends whose cards he had- Thimbleton, the illusionist; Stone D. Mason, dwarf and lord of Platinum Peak; Hobbes, the tabaxi psion/thief, and Mary Nine, the fur golem; Malford himself (until the King took it away); so many others... some of them people he hasn’t seen or spoken to in a long, long time, like... hell, probably even Malador! Whatever happened to that half-voadkyn, anyway? Traveling, probably... adventuring somewhere. Or secluded in the woods...
Some of them were dead, of course, like Alcar; others of unknown fate- what was the name of that one poor soul that Felenga turned into a chicken-legged, cursed freak?
What ever happened to her?
Questions for another day.**
While Lester ruminates on his old friends, Horbin pulls out all the stops in trying to fix poor Angel, and after a combination of heal, remove curse, miracle, greater restoration, break enchantment and regenerate***, he succeeds.
“Thank Coila!” Angel exclaims.
Time for a new tower. There’s no more mass flying available today, so Horbin utilizes a wind walk, and soon our heroes have arrived at the next one they’re going to investigate. Entering, they find it to be another tower full of smashed and jumbled furnishings, but it takes them less than two minutes to come upon an inhabitant.
In a room that looks like a bedroom that had been kicked by a giant, a young, white-skinned woman sits wearing a grey robe. A white smock covers it. As the party tromps in, she lifts her head and speaks in that creepy-sounding dialect of Abyssal that we might just as well call Moilian. To those that can understand her- mostly Orbius, with his permanent tongues- she says, “Hello- are you hurt?” She sounds almost hopeful. “Are you feeling poorly? I am a fully functional medron! I can help you with your wounds or hurts. It has been so very long since I have laid eyes upon a living being!”
*Before asking this question, Horbin asked what season it was. It’s spring- the date in game is 3/10/368 O.L.G.
**And, eventually, potentially, the Early Years thread.
***Or something like that.
Next Time: Meet Dr. Tarr! And Dr. Tarr, meet... the Mask of the Devourer!
“This is probably not our most shining moment,” comments Horbin dryly.
“Angelfire!” Londo groans.
No hands, no face...
”You’re useless,” the Mask of the Devourer sneers to Angelfire. “I should devour you now and put you out of your stinking misery!”
“No!” barks Londo. “Surely it will better if you simply move to a new host- someone more capable of fulfilling your needs.” A grim smile traces his face.
”Are you volunteering?” The Mask’s voice is jovial, but tinged with threat.
“Oh yes,” Londo answers, never blinking, and the Mask flows from Angel’s featureless head to his, pulling itself eerily up his arm and over his face until he bears the Devourer’s visage.
”Much better! Fool! Now I can see!”
“I’m not sure if I like this,” Horbin whispers to Lester.
***
With the Mask off of her, our heroes determine to use the strongest magicks at their disposals to try to repair her- after they regain their spells. For Horbin, that’s only a few more hours. So they explore a little further, Londo leading Angel along and the voice of the Mask, always sneering, echoing behind.
As they walk along the frosty crust above the floor, Sybele says to Thrush, “This place gives me an idea!”
“What’s that?”
“We should open a casino! With all the money we’re gonna make from the demilich, and Felenga, we’ll be rich!”
Thrush smiles. “Yes- once we’ve dealt with our enemies. And then we should retire, and raise our children.”
That word makes Sybele shiver inside.
They don’t find much trouble, but our heroes do find a magical cloak. The entire party has magical cloaks that they don’t want to give up, so they give it the Lerxst. She puts it on gratefully, and then gurgles in displeasure and sinks to the floor drooling.
“Oh no!” Horbin exclaims. He whips the cloak off of her, but it has no effect. He groans. “Didn’t we just tell her how safe she was with us?”
“You can fix her,” Lester smiles. “I have faith in you.”
***
That evening, after regaining his spells, Horbin the Holy communes with his god. Orbius pesters him to check the loyalty of his simulacrum, but Horbin refuses to commit. “Only if I run out of better questions to ask,” he finally half-agrees.
Is the girl’s intelligence drained? No.
Is her wisdom drained? No.
Is her charisma drained? No.
Will a greater restoration fix her? No.
Will a heal or mass heal fix her? Yes and no.
It must be a curse, Horbin thinks.
Is the darkweaver in this tower? No.
Is there treasure above us in this tower? No.
Is Till conscious most of the time? No.
Is he is some kind of suspended form? No.
Do we still have to face the darkweaver to kill Felenga? Probably.
Will completing our quest here weaken the Temple of Elemental Evil? Yes.
Will the Temple of Elemental Evil attempt major military campaigns in the spring or summer?* Yes.
Before the summer? Yes.
This month? No.
Do the uprisings Malford is putting down have anything to do with this? No.
Are there spies for the Temple of Elemental Evil within Malford’s court? Yes.
Are any of these spies in his bodyguard? No.
Are any regular attendees at court? Yes.
Are any noblemen of Dorhaus? No.
What the hell, he sighs.
Is Orbius’ simulacrum still loyal to him? Yes.
Well, that’s something, anyway, the cleric thinks.
Horbin relates the gist of what he’s learned. “We need to warn Malford,” he says grimly.
“No problem,” reassures Lester. Shortly, Orbius trumps to Var, then back to Lester.
“Those are my only two trumps left,” groans the L. “Oh well, easy come, easy go.”
And he sighs, thinking of all the rest of his old friends whose cards he had- Thimbleton, the illusionist; Stone D. Mason, dwarf and lord of Platinum Peak; Hobbes, the tabaxi psion/thief, and Mary Nine, the fur golem; Malford himself (until the King took it away); so many others... some of them people he hasn’t seen or spoken to in a long, long time, like... hell, probably even Malador! Whatever happened to that half-voadkyn, anyway? Traveling, probably... adventuring somewhere. Or secluded in the woods...
Some of them were dead, of course, like Alcar; others of unknown fate- what was the name of that one poor soul that Felenga turned into a chicken-legged, cursed freak?
What ever happened to her?
Questions for another day.**
While Lester ruminates on his old friends, Horbin pulls out all the stops in trying to fix poor Angel, and after a combination of heal, remove curse, miracle, greater restoration, break enchantment and regenerate***, he succeeds.
“Thank Coila!” Angel exclaims.
Time for a new tower. There’s no more mass flying available today, so Horbin utilizes a wind walk, and soon our heroes have arrived at the next one they’re going to investigate. Entering, they find it to be another tower full of smashed and jumbled furnishings, but it takes them less than two minutes to come upon an inhabitant.
In a room that looks like a bedroom that had been kicked by a giant, a young, white-skinned woman sits wearing a grey robe. A white smock covers it. As the party tromps in, she lifts her head and speaks in that creepy-sounding dialect of Abyssal that we might just as well call Moilian. To those that can understand her- mostly Orbius, with his permanent tongues- she says, “Hello- are you hurt?” She sounds almost hopeful. “Are you feeling poorly? I am a fully functional medron! I can help you with your wounds or hurts. It has been so very long since I have laid eyes upon a living being!”
*Before asking this question, Horbin asked what season it was. It’s spring- the date in game is 3/10/368 O.L.G.
**And, eventually, potentially, the Early Years thread.
***Or something like that.
Next Time: Meet Dr. Tarr! And Dr. Tarr, meet... the Mask of the Devourer!
the Jester
Legend
Quick character update
As of this point in the story hour, our heroes consist of:
Horbin the Holy (cleric 20, CG)
Angelfire (psychic warrior 14/cleric 4/templar of Coila 4, LE)
Sybele (Large fighter 8/egoist 10/warrior of Chaos 2, CN)
Lester (elementalist 14/warrior of Chaos 4/divine oracle 1/contemplative 1/paraelementalist 1, CG)
Orbius (diviner 7/divine oracle 10/archmage 2, CG)
Londo (fighter 6/cleric 1/blackguard 10, LE)
Patyn (paladin 8/hunter of the dead 10, LG)
Rex (dragon disciple 10/ranger 1/sorcerer 1/fighter 1/monk 5, LN)
Ulla (druid 7/shifter 10/warshifter 1, N)
Drelvin (fighter 6/order of the bow initiate 10/rogue 2, CG)
As of this point in the story hour, our heroes consist of:
Horbin the Holy (cleric 20, CG)
Angelfire (psychic warrior 14/cleric 4/templar of Coila 4, LE)
Sybele (Large fighter 8/egoist 10/warrior of Chaos 2, CN)
Lester (elementalist 14/warrior of Chaos 4/divine oracle 1/contemplative 1/paraelementalist 1, CG)
Orbius (diviner 7/divine oracle 10/archmage 2, CG)
Londo (fighter 6/cleric 1/blackguard 10, LE)
Patyn (paladin 8/hunter of the dead 10, LG)
Rex (dragon disciple 10/ranger 1/sorcerer 1/fighter 1/monk 5, LN)
Ulla (druid 7/shifter 10/warshifter 1, N)
Drelvin (fighter 6/order of the bow initiate 10/rogue 2, CG)
the Jester
Legend
The Mask Gives a Demonstration of its Power
For quite some time, our heroes have found that one of the best spells for them as a team is Rary’s telepathic bond. They usually have one going between the majority of the party, at least while they’re adventuring; and now is no exception.
Over the bond, Angelfire comments, I don’t trust this woman.
She said she’s a medron, Orbius reminds her.
Patyn: She’s neither evil nor undead- but that doesn’t mean we should trust her.
The group follows Cyndea the medron (whatever in the Nine Hells that is) as she leads them deeper into the tower (which she tells them is the Tower of Health). Their breath puffs in the cold air; she does not appear to breathe.
Cyndea leads them to a room shaped like a pie slice with the tip chopped off. The room is full of beds, and the ceiling is shrouded in shadows over thirty feet above. “Doctor?” she calls. “We have a patient...”
Suddenly a shape detaches itself from the darkness above, folding downward on a thick tether like some mechanical serpent. “Ah, Cyndea!” a fatherly voice calls, and our heroes find themselves facing a bizarre meld of humanoid head, torso and arms, and strange mechanical limbs that look designed for surgery, including circular saws that look capable of cutting through bone.
I don’t know about this, Lester hesitantly sends over the telepathic bond.
“Well, let me examine the patient!” the weird doctor says, all business.
“Friends, this is Dr. Tarr. He is expertly trained by the best of Moil’s great physicians.”
The group reluctantly pulls the drooling Lerxst forward for the doctor. Strong metal arms pull her gently up to a platform near the ceiling.
”Hey, wait a sec...” says Horbin.
“Just doing some tests!” the doctor affirms happily. The party can see him lay Lerxst’s form on a bed. Dr. Tarr then looks in her mouth, eyes and ear, listens to her heart, performs a few magical tests, and frowns.
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to perform a few more tests,” he announces regretfully. “I need to keep the patient under observation for a while.”
“How much of a while?” Horbin demands, obviously getting irritated.
Angelfire is nervous about this ‘doctor’ as well, but he has a great deal of faith. Coila will lead him in the right direction. So comforted, he casts augury.
Will it be beneficial or baneful to let this doctor keep Lerxst any longer?
BANEFUL.
Attack! Angelfire shouts through the mental link.
Thrush is a blur, and suddenly the doctor has a great rent in his side, from which oils and lubricants begin to flow.
Patyn draws his blade and cries, “Prepare yourself, Doctor! You threaten our friend and our mission. Defend yourself!” And he casts a furious glance at Thrush for attacking without warning. Horbin nods sagely, fully understanding Patyn’s little speech. Sybele moves in as well; with both her and Thrush in the way, Angel can’t reach Dr. Tarr; however-
Angel turns and rushes forward at Cyndea, turning partway through the charge to avoid some beds.* Her falchion slices out, dealing a tremendous wound to the medron, who cries out in pain as her fluids begin leaking as well.
“Why?” Dr. Tarr cries out as a hail of spells from the L and the Eye blast him. He swings down on his thick tether and fires a cloud of gas out, which rolls over a few of our heroes.
Ten Buck Tom inhales some gas, coughing heavily, and falls over, unconscious.
“Tom!” cries Horbin.
Londo has been hanging back, talking to the Mask he’s wearing. “What can you do to help us?”
”Why should I help you fools? You’re weak!”
“And you’re powerful, right? Or so you say. But so far it’s all talk. If you don’t show some signs of your power soon, nobody’ll believe you anymore.”
Cyndea backs away from Angelfire, screaming, “Don’t hurt me!” She touches herself and some of the damage knits up; but Dr. Tarr is not so lucky. He shrugs off a Marius’ deconstruction cast by Orbius, but then something terrible happens.
In the corner, the Mask says to Londo, ”Fine! You want to see my power? Step forward, towards the fool from the roof!” Londo obeys instantly; he wants to know what’s he’s gotten himself into.
The doctor glares as Londo strides forward, but then the Mask cries, ”Now, you fool- I WILL DEVOUR YOU!!!” And its terrible black maw opens wider, wider, impossibly wide, and in one terrible instant the mouth snaps shut over Dr. Tarr.
And then the tether dangles uselessly from the ceiling. The Mask is humming, making chomping noises. A few pieces of metal fall to the ground.
Shocked, our heroes stare at the Mask for a moment.
Cyndea screams again.
“Oh yeah!” Angelfire beams, and turns to finish the medron off.
“No!” Patyn cries, stepping in front of Angelfire. “She’s done nothing! I shall protect you, maiden!”
“She’s a machine,” Angel points out, amused.
“Nonetheless.”
Angel shrugs.
“Yeah, we should save her,” says Sybele. “She’s just trying to help.” And over the mindlink, And maybe she knows something. Maybe the doctor had some tools we can use to help Lerxst...
*This via the Psionic Charge feat.
Next Time: The doctor’s tools!
For quite some time, our heroes have found that one of the best spells for them as a team is Rary’s telepathic bond. They usually have one going between the majority of the party, at least while they’re adventuring; and now is no exception.
Over the bond, Angelfire comments, I don’t trust this woman.
She said she’s a medron, Orbius reminds her.
Patyn: She’s neither evil nor undead- but that doesn’t mean we should trust her.
The group follows Cyndea the medron (whatever in the Nine Hells that is) as she leads them deeper into the tower (which she tells them is the Tower of Health). Their breath puffs in the cold air; she does not appear to breathe.
Cyndea leads them to a room shaped like a pie slice with the tip chopped off. The room is full of beds, and the ceiling is shrouded in shadows over thirty feet above. “Doctor?” she calls. “We have a patient...”
Suddenly a shape detaches itself from the darkness above, folding downward on a thick tether like some mechanical serpent. “Ah, Cyndea!” a fatherly voice calls, and our heroes find themselves facing a bizarre meld of humanoid head, torso and arms, and strange mechanical limbs that look designed for surgery, including circular saws that look capable of cutting through bone.
I don’t know about this, Lester hesitantly sends over the telepathic bond.
“Well, let me examine the patient!” the weird doctor says, all business.
“Friends, this is Dr. Tarr. He is expertly trained by the best of Moil’s great physicians.”
The group reluctantly pulls the drooling Lerxst forward for the doctor. Strong metal arms pull her gently up to a platform near the ceiling.
”Hey, wait a sec...” says Horbin.
“Just doing some tests!” the doctor affirms happily. The party can see him lay Lerxst’s form on a bed. Dr. Tarr then looks in her mouth, eyes and ear, listens to her heart, performs a few magical tests, and frowns.
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to perform a few more tests,” he announces regretfully. “I need to keep the patient under observation for a while.”
“How much of a while?” Horbin demands, obviously getting irritated.
Angelfire is nervous about this ‘doctor’ as well, but he has a great deal of faith. Coila will lead him in the right direction. So comforted, he casts augury.
Will it be beneficial or baneful to let this doctor keep Lerxst any longer?
BANEFUL.
Attack! Angelfire shouts through the mental link.
Thrush is a blur, and suddenly the doctor has a great rent in his side, from which oils and lubricants begin to flow.
Patyn draws his blade and cries, “Prepare yourself, Doctor! You threaten our friend and our mission. Defend yourself!” And he casts a furious glance at Thrush for attacking without warning. Horbin nods sagely, fully understanding Patyn’s little speech. Sybele moves in as well; with both her and Thrush in the way, Angel can’t reach Dr. Tarr; however-
Angel turns and rushes forward at Cyndea, turning partway through the charge to avoid some beds.* Her falchion slices out, dealing a tremendous wound to the medron, who cries out in pain as her fluids begin leaking as well.
“Why?” Dr. Tarr cries out as a hail of spells from the L and the Eye blast him. He swings down on his thick tether and fires a cloud of gas out, which rolls over a few of our heroes.
Ten Buck Tom inhales some gas, coughing heavily, and falls over, unconscious.
“Tom!” cries Horbin.
Londo has been hanging back, talking to the Mask he’s wearing. “What can you do to help us?”
”Why should I help you fools? You’re weak!”
“And you’re powerful, right? Or so you say. But so far it’s all talk. If you don’t show some signs of your power soon, nobody’ll believe you anymore.”
Cyndea backs away from Angelfire, screaming, “Don’t hurt me!” She touches herself and some of the damage knits up; but Dr. Tarr is not so lucky. He shrugs off a Marius’ deconstruction cast by Orbius, but then something terrible happens.
In the corner, the Mask says to Londo, ”Fine! You want to see my power? Step forward, towards the fool from the roof!” Londo obeys instantly; he wants to know what’s he’s gotten himself into.
The doctor glares as Londo strides forward, but then the Mask cries, ”Now, you fool- I WILL DEVOUR YOU!!!” And its terrible black maw opens wider, wider, impossibly wide, and in one terrible instant the mouth snaps shut over Dr. Tarr.
And then the tether dangles uselessly from the ceiling. The Mask is humming, making chomping noises. A few pieces of metal fall to the ground.
Shocked, our heroes stare at the Mask for a moment.
Cyndea screams again.
“Oh yeah!” Angelfire beams, and turns to finish the medron off.
“No!” Patyn cries, stepping in front of Angelfire. “She’s done nothing! I shall protect you, maiden!”
“She’s a machine,” Angel points out, amused.
“Nonetheless.”
Angel shrugs.
“Yeah, we should save her,” says Sybele. “She’s just trying to help.” And over the mindlink, And maybe she knows something. Maybe the doctor had some tools we can use to help Lerxst...
*This via the Psionic Charge feat.
Next Time: The doctor’s tools!
Cheiromancer
Adventurer
I found this update disturbing. Can you tell us what would have happened if Lerxst had been left in the doctor's care?
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