To War Against Felenga (FINAL UPDATE POSTED!)

[the Jester]

CONCLUSION (pt. 1)

Sybele moans around the stitches keeping her lips together. She jerks once, in horrible agony, but is so exhausted that that is all she can muster.

If only her eyes were not sewn shut, she would see the sudden slash of silver-blue light that appears in the air next to her, then tears open to form a gate. On the other side, she would see the warm sun over the atrium in Lester’s new girlfriend’s house. As it is, she scents a fresh breeze and she hears Thrush’s choked voice.

“Sybele,” he groans, his heart as heavy as lead.

“Come on,” Orbius says softly, laying a hand on the fighter’s arm. “We can’t do anything for her here. Our best hope is to destroy the demilich.”

Thrush knows the Eye is right, but he lingers a moment longer, regarding his woman with aching heart. He hasn’t felt so helpless since his former party and he were trapped inside Bile Mountain, with no escape.

She saved me, I’ll save her, he tells himself firmly, and hurries after the others.

Angelfire glances at Patyn bemusedly. This may be their last fight on the same side; she wonders whether, when all is said and done, Patyn will stay with them or leave, or whether he will demand she face him in a challenge. Well, if it comes to that, so be it- but she’ll kill him without any remorse.

After they do for Felenga and Acererak. Until then, Patyn’s vital. I don’t want to face them again after this, Angel thinks. This will be the last time.

Quickly, the group makes their way back down to the chamber from which the demons emerged. “There’s a lot of art here,” Orbius muses. “This might be the place we can teleport to the phylactery from.”

“What if you’re wrong?” Ulla asks.

“Let’s find out.” Orbius smiles and casts a divination.

Moments later, they all gather round as Orbius employs the helm of knowing movement he obtained long ago from Felenga in order to greater teleport.* He’s seen the place in a vision, and though it might not be quite accurate in terms of the environment and features, it’s enough.

Suddenly they’re there.

The room is a 50’ hemisphere. Dominating it, glowing with a scarlet radiance like blood, is a huge crystal, multifaceted and gleaming with sullen incarnadine radiance. The facets pulse and shimmer, but clearly within almost all of the facets are features- faces, contorted in silent agony.

All the souls that Acererak has sucked into it. All those that have gotten this far before our heroes.

A great tripod of black iron holds the chamber above the floor. Below it- no floor at all, but merely a hole in the floor that opens to absolute blackness. The Void. The Negative Energy Plane.

There is no sign of the demilich.

“That’s it!” cries Orbius. “That’s the phylactery!” The party moves into action instantly.

The simulacrum of Orbius points the wand of days at the great red crystal and cries out, “Kindle!” There is a tremendous flare of light, like the rising sun, and the crystal is bathed in a glare of solar energy unlike anything our heroes have seen before. Lester fires a sunray at it, and the two blasts of energy leave the crystal marred and cracked. Scorch marks trail over it.

Thrush attacks, screaming in his rage and frustration. He hacks mightily at the phylactery, gritting his teeth as slivers of crystal shatter off and explode about him. He sees Angelfire casting a spell from the corner of his eye, but whatever she’s doing doesn’t seem to work (and she frowns).

The real Orbius slinks back into the shadows and pulls out a trump. Almost immediately, however, he realizes that something’s wrong. The contact won’t come; it’s like trying to see clearly through a cloudy glass window four feet thick. I can’t make contact. If I have time, I might be able to do so...

And then, as our heroes begin their assault, a terrible mocking laughter comes echoing down from above, and they realize that there is some sort of ledge above them. And floating down comes a terrible sight: the skull of the demilich.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!”

Our heroes pause in their assault as the dreadful knowledge that they face Acererak himself comes crashing in on them. Acererak, the ancient demilich so terrible that even the hunters of the dead denied his existence. Acererak, builder of the Tomb of Horrors and center of the Black Academy. Acererak, the Devourer.

“Through hazard and danger you have made your way here,” crows the bejeweled skull, “surpassing challenges both martial and cerebral! The journey was a hard one, but with each test you bested, your souls were further purified, until you stand before me now with empowered, shining souls visible to those with the eyes to see.” The rasping voice of the demilich pauses for an instant, then goes on gloatingly. “I have use for such souls. You will provide the final catalyst for my union with the Negative Energy Plane itself! Let the Apotheosis begin!!!”


Next Time: I think I’ll take a few months off from story hour writing. Seeya around, guys.


*This is a lot like the 1e/2e version of a helm of teleportation- instead of letting you teleport a couple times a day, it lets you cast all your prepared teleportation spells an extra three times.

 

[omrob]

"Through hazard and danger you have made your way here,” crows the bejeweled skull, “surpassing challenges both martial and cerebral! The journey was a hard one, but with each test you bested, your souls were further purified, until you stand before me now with empowered, shining souls visible to those with the eyes to see.” The rasping voice of the demilich pauses for an instant, then goes on gloatingly. “I have use for such souls. You will provide the final catalyst for my union with the Negative Energy Plane itself! Let the Apotheosis begin!!!”

Y'all knew it had to talk teh smack. Personally, I was expecting a lot more

BTW I believe this climactic session was attended by only 2 of up to 7-8 players. Albeit the most powerful ones.

 

[Knightfall]

Next Time: I think I’ll take a few months off from story hour writing. Seeya around, guys.

DON'T YOU DARE!!!

 

[Mathew_Freeman]

DON'T YOU DARE!!!

I'm with him.

Although I can imagine that The Jester is just funning with us. Remember, mate, I think I know people who know where you live!

(not a great threat, but it's all I can come up with right now!)

 

[the Jester]

CONCLUSION (pt. 2)

The Phylactery of the Apotheosis, dominating the chamber above the hole to the Negative Energy Plane, gives off a sullen blood-red radiance that casts everyone in the chamber into ghastly relief as the demilich, gems in its teeth and eyes gleaming, descends towards the party.

Then a flash of brilliant pure energy emanates from Patyn with a high crackling sound! Smoke rises from the many small cracks on the great crimson gemstone phylactery. The demilich himself gives off a cry of displeasure. Patyn is frowning fiercely and sweating- it’s difficult to channel his burst here, but by focusing all his concentration it seem he can make it work!

Acererak ignores the hunter of the dead. The yellowed skull pivots in the air to regard Angelfire, who is watching it grimly, and then the gem in the right eye socket gives off a flash of dizzying brightness. Angel cries out and reels, shaking as her very soul starts tearing loose from her body! Visibly, her soul stretches away from her body, desperately trying to retain its connection- and then, with an almost audible snap, Angel staggers back as Acererak’s attempt to trap her soul fails. Staggering, Angel hesitates. Her hair has gone white, her skin pale as a cave fish. She’s shaking and cold to her very bones, but she’s alive.

Dragging her falchion from its scabbard, she wobbles towards Acererak.

Thrush springs forward at the demilich as well. To ignore the demilich now would be to allow it to kill them all. He’s filled with a cold determination as he approaches it; and he cries, ”FREE MY WOMAN, DEMILICH!!!” His sword cracks down, actually inflicting some damage on Acererak!

The L’s great bat wings carry him forward as he casts another sunray at the phylactery. He sees one Orbius firing another brilliant blast from the wand of days and another still desperately focusing on the trump, and there’s no shimmer around him; no contact. We’re stuck here, Lester realizes. He grins fiercely. This guy’s tough, but I’ve faced bad guys as tough as him before! Fuligin, Mezzoloch, E-Krektor, Master Control- this guy is gonna be just another name on my list soon!

The demilich shrieks with anger as the wand of days fires another pulse of shattering sunlight into his Phylactery of the Apotheosis. Gnashing his gem-adorned teeth, the demilich fires off a quickened cone of cold that shatters the simulacrum-Orbius into a thousand bits of snow as well as catching and damaging Lester. Then one of Acererak’s teeth flashes with light, and Lester screams as the most horrible pain he’s ever experienced grips him and tears him. “AH!!! GNAARGH!!!” he shrieks as his spirit is drawn towards the glinting tooth. “NOOOOO!!!!” Setting his feet, the L struggles with all the considerable might of the elements within his body lending him weight, and slowly he manages to fend off the soul-ripping power of Acererak. Collapsing onto one knee, wheezing, his afro now sports a white streak down the middle. Shaking, feeling frozen, he tries to stagger back up to his feet, but falters. His clothing looks as though it has been bleached for a thousand years. His swarthy skin, normally dark, looks pasty and wasted. He barely notices as Patyn triggers another sizzling energy burst.

Orbius curses to himself as his simulacrum falls. The trump contact- too hard, can’t make it work! And there’s no more time, now...

Time stop it is, then. As everything slows down he teleports to a good position, then uses a limited wish to bring the wand of days to him. Drawing a deep breath, he readies himself, and as things speed up around him again, he firings another blast of effulgent sunlight at the phylactery. The brilliant golden-white light sends shards of the scarlet gem cascading through the chamber and tumbling down through the gap into the Void.

Orbius knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he’s next. Holding the wand of days makes him the demilich’s primary target. He prays that he can withstand the soul trapping of Acererak’s gems, but in his heart he knows how unlikely it is.

Thrush and Angelfire are flanking the demilich in the air, and Thrush hits it again, making Acererak’s form wobble in the air. Angel’s falchion hisses through the air but deflects away from the skull as if pushed away. Acererak’s left eye gem begins gleaming as it stares implacably at Orbius.

Lester never hesitates. He has one big sunlight spell left, and he casts it right between the hovering skull and the Phylactery of the Apotheosis. A sunburst explodes, and for a moment no one can see. There’s a loud crack! and a spray of jagged shrapnel smashes into everyone; and then, when their eyes clear (although Orbius is blinded) they can see that the Phylactery of the Apotheosis has shattered into a million fragments, with many of the largest portions falling into the darkness of the Negative Energy Plane below.

“NOOO!” screams the demilich, but before anyone else can move, the L fires a quickened shatter at the skull. Acererak gives a terrible, high-pitched wail- and the skull explodes in a flare of violet-black energy.

The only sound, for a moment, is the panting of our heroes’ breath.

Then they’re cheering, congratulating each other, hugging, high-fiving! Could it be that they’ve destroyed Acererak for good? Is it possible??

“Wait a second,” the blind Orbius says grimly. “Let’s make sure.” And he casts a mighty divination.

And then grins. And then whoops!

”We did it!” he cries.

“But it’s not over,” interrupts Thrush balefully. “We still need to free Sybele.”

“Hey, what about Felenga?” the L puts in suddenly.


Next Time: Strange pilgrims! And Felenga! It’s not over yet!!!

 

[Mathew_Freeman]

Short but nasty, as such fights tend to be!

Any in-game information for us? What was the DC for the soul trapping effect, for example, and just how much damage did Thrush have to do to hurt him?

 

[the Jester]

Short but nasty, as such fights tend to be!

Any in-game information for us? What was the DC for the soul trapping effect, for example, and just how much damage did Thrush have to do to hurt him?

Soul trapping DC was 36.

The demilich had DR 20 which I don't think anyone was bypassing, though Angelfire's Falchion could knock off the first 5 points of it (being made of coal steel, which has certain properties similar to adamantine- it's a partial bypass, sort of).

The phylactery itself was huge and resistant to harm; it had an AC of 20, hardness 12, hp 350 and SR 50. Each leg of the tripod on which it rested has AC 9, hardness 10, hp 144.

Touching the phylactery- which nobody did- required a Fort save, DC 48, to avoid soul trapping. Once Acererak had soul trapped the three most worthy victims he would have moved to directly above the phylactery and initiated the Apotheosis. Once this had begun, only the destruction of the phylactery would have had any effect on the Apotheosis. The pcs would have had only ten rounds to destroy it or the Apotheosis would have been completed and Acererak would have joined with the negative energy plane, thereby enabling him to shift into any undead anywhere, at will, and rendering him truly invincible (unless all undead could somehow be destroyed).

 

[Mathew_Freeman]

OK, now I'm even more impressed with the victory!

 

[the Jester]

CONCLUSION (pt. 3)

Our heroes stand amongst the ruins of Acererak’s plans. The shards of the Phylactery of the Apotheosis glimmer a fading red all around them. The chamber is now dominated by the gaping hole in the floor opening into the Void.

“I wonder if he had any treasure?” Rex says aloud.

“Hmm, good idea,” says Angelfire. “We should search.”

The group looks around. There is another door out of the chamber, and above them they can see a ledge of some sort- no doubt it was there that the demilich had floated down at them from. Rex spreads his wings and flies up, followed by Ulla (who shifts into the form of an eagle for the ascent before fluidly changing into an air elemental). Indeed, the ledge has some treasure. Quite a bit of treasure. “Holy crap!” exclaims Rex.

The group hauls it down to the floor and counts it up. It’s an impressive haul, resplendent with gems and magic. Grinning, the group puts it away for later division.

That’s when the door opens and a silent troupe of figures enters. The leader is one of those mysterious blue-skinned beings called ethros, and he is followed by a quartet of strange ram-headed humanoid beings. Without a word, moving with a strange air of reverence, they begin spreading slowly into the chamber. There is an almost ritualistic quality to their motions; each of the ram-headed beings carries some sort of small, diaphanous net-like thing.

“Hey!” exclaims Ulla.

Thrush’s blade is naked in his hand. Angel’s falchion scrapes free of its scabbard. “Who are you?” cries Sir Maxwell, pulling his silver hammer out.

The ethros slowly turns to face the party. His deep azure eyes seem to drink them in for a moment. His expression never changes from one of great solemnity. “We are but simple pilgrims,” he declares softly.

“Pilgrims!” exclaim Patyn and Sir Maxwell together. Then, Maxwell: “Pilgrims of who?”

The ethros shakes his head. “We serve no god or power. We merely study.”

“Study what?” Rex demands suspiciously. Thrush glowers at the ethros balefully.

“Death,” the blue-skinned figure intones.

Sir Maxwell checks for evil, and Patyn for undeath. Maxwell frowns- the ram-headed things are very evil- but Patyn ascertains that none of the strange pilgrims are undead.

“What is it that you want?” asks Angel. “Did you serve the demilich?”

“We wish to study,” repeats the ethros. “As I said, we serve no one. Something happened here moments ago that caused ripples throughout the entire Negative Energy Plane. It was strong with death. We wish to study the phenomenon.” Holding Angelfire’s eyes for a moment, the ethros’ face remains in its same aspect of solemnity.

“What’s your name?”

“Remilino,” the ethros answers after a flicker of hesitation.

Angelfire nods. “Are you a wizard or sorcerer? Or a cleric? We have a friend in trouble...”

“Sybele!” groans Thrush.

“If you can help her,” Angel continues, “we won’t interfere with your studies here as long as you don’t interfere with us.”

“I am unwilling to go on some adventure for you,” the ethros answers, distaste evident in his voice.

“She’s here, in the demilich’s fortress,” Sir Maxwell says. “She’s caught in a magical trap.” And the group relates the tale of Sybele’s Folly. After a moment’s contemplation, the ethros offers to try, but warns that his best may not be enough.

“Try anything you can,” Thrush demands harshly. He grinds his teeth.

“Let’s get moving,” Rex says. “We still have to deal with Felenga- and find and destroy his phylactery.” He pauses, then adds grimly, “I hope he’s not active in a new body...” The group forms up and begins to ready to go out the door and explore.

Angel has a shard of the demilich’s skull. She quickly casts know age on it.

Acererak was 46,973 years old. Damn.

Stuffing the piece of bone in her trophy pouch, she hurries towards the front of the party. The group files out of the hemispherical room, finding themselves in a wide hallway with a number of openings along the left wall. Strange devices surrounded by sheaves of paper scribbled with magical notation, a room full of books- they move quickly.

And, quickly, Orbius’ prediction that they would find the phylactery within a short distance of Acererak’s is bourn out. It’s Rex who spots it first- a disgusting, composite undead, made of bits of many different creatures sewn together like a flesh golem and then animated. “There!” he cries, pointing, and activates his boots of speed, trying to get within striking distance of it. Unfortunately for him, not only is the room it’s in is full of bookshelves, making it crowded and cramped and difficult for him to get through, but Thrush, Patyn, Jezebel and Angelfire are all closer than he is to it, and block several of his approaches! He finds himself frustrated and stuck between shelves a short distance away after zigzagging all around the room. Thrush and Angelfire both manage to unload major damage on it, but then it dimension doors away before they can do more.

Rex looks around for it, but though he doesn’t see it, through an opening into another hallway on the far side of the room he sees something horrible. The hallway is literally piled with a bunch of writhing forms, but they aren’t alive- they’re parts. Heads gibber, torsos with legs but no arms or heads, humanoid bodies missing components- but all still somehow maintaining animation. Rex grimaces, and then he opens his mouth and breathes out a blast of force. The force tears into the pile of writhing undead bodies, destroying multiple ones and sending putrescent matter spraying over the area.

Thrush, enraged and frustrated and tormented by thoughts of Sybele, rushes forward- made greater invisible by Jezebel- and hacks wildly, sending up a spray of reject undead parts and gore. He screams.

Angelfire, seeing no sign of the phylactery where the others have gone, moves back into the first hallway. I seem to recall that it made a left turn... if it goes far enough, it probably intersects with that one... As she rounds the corner, though, she has a sudden surprise. Something slams into her with bone-jarring force, knocking her prone and almost lighting her very soul on fire! “Winter-wight!” she shouts, then shakes her head to clear her eyes and looks at it.

“Winter-toad!!” she screams, correcting herself.

Londo, a few dozen feet behind his mistress, rushes forward, flail at the ready, pulse pounding.

Ulla turns into a stone golem. Then she moves up next to Rex, and halts briefly when she sees the rejects. Gulping, she keeps moving forward and starts pounding at them. They’re undead, right? They’re bound to be dangerous, right? And they’re certainly unnatural. And besides, that phylactery-undead composite thing is nowhere in sight. Still, just touching the rejects is almost enough to leave her nauseous. They’re... profane.

The party spreads out, looking for any sign of the phylactery. If they can find it... if they can destroy it...! Felenga will be destroyed!

Angelfire screams as the black flame catches on her soul. The skeletal toad, encased in ice, its skull blazing with blightfire, presses its vicious attack on her. It’s the size of a normal human but it hits as hard as a giant. She cries out as it tears into her. She can feel herself weakening. Desperately, she casts timeslip on the defensive, and vanishes out from under it.

Rex, meanwhile, throws open a door, cries, “HERE!” and springs into the room.

Too slow.

The phylactery steps through another dimension door, vanishing only to reappear next to Londo, who immediately turns on it, leaving the winter-toad unopposed for the moment. The toad takes advantage, moving to flank him, and both it and the phylactery pound on Londo heavily.

Confusion is rampant. People are running this way and that; Rex is shouting something about here and there; the horrendous rejects are impeding progress. Londo is bracketed by bad guys, caught in a cone of cold; suddenly Rex bursts out another door, and he spots the phylactery again, and he’s shouting again for everyone.

Thrush rounds the corner- the two hallways actually wrap around the rooms in a blocky “C” shape- and finds himself with the winter-toad before him. A death grin comes over his face and he begins to hack savagely. The undead creature whirls, clawing and biting at the fighter, and Thrush’s soul catches fire.

Where the hell is everyone? wonders Londo. Little does he know that, thanks to the efforts of Jezebel and her pseudodragon familiar Smacky, Thrush, Payton and Rex are now greater invisible. He groans as the phylactery strikes him again, and he falls senseless and bleeding to the floor. The composite undead turns and swings a meaty fist into Patyn, smashing his jaw and nose badly.

But our heroes have not been idle. Rex swings, smashes, headbutts and kicks the composite undead, sending it staggering. Ulla casts call lightning and zaps it with a bolt; and then Rex tears into it again. And the phylactery falls to the floor, unable to sustain any more damage! Ulla then casts cure light wounds on Londo, stopping him from bleeding out. With a groan, the blackguard heals himself.

The winter-toad is still a threat, however. Patyn unleashes a positive energy burst, but it almost completely ignores the blast and tears into Thrush. The fighter sucks it up and then returns the favor. He’s still on blightfire, but it’s flickering lower with every passing moment. Sir Maxwell moves up and lays hands upon him, trying to keep Thrush from falling, while Patyn grimly moves in, channeling and smiting and flanking, and lands a serious blow to the toad.

Suddenly Angel returns. The flame on her has gone out, she’s mostly healed and she’s ready. Her falchion sings as she slices into it with deadly ability. But it’s still going, and it tears into her in return!

This is ridiculous, thinks Ulla as her call lightning blast sluices off the winter-toad like water. It’s a toad! She wants to laugh; she wants to cry. This ‘toad’ is tearing them up.

Londo, meanwhile, staggers to his feet. He glances at the felled phylactery nearby, glances at the battle with the toad further off. They can take care of it, he thinks of the winter-toad, and sets to searching the phylactery. He wants to be sure. After a few moments, his probing fingers find something hard in its chest. He pulls forth a dagger and after a little work he extracts a heart-sized gem.

“Oho,” he says cheerfully, and lays the gem on the floor. With a rare smile, Londo pulls forth his flail again.

Meanwhile, the winter-toad is surrounded, flanked on all sides, and severely assailed. Finally, Patyn gives it a final smite and it shatters into chunks of ice and bone. Breathing hard, our heroes look around in time to see Londo pounding on the heart stone. Immediately realizing that this must be the true phylactery, the others join in. It is Rex who actually smashes the stone; and from it, a weird shade seems to rise, an image of a tall human before he became undead; a mere man, at one point, before he gave over to madness and the following of Tharizdun; and as if an image in smoke torn by the wind, Felenga tears and shreds. There is the faint suggestion of an echoing voice crying out, pleading for mercy, and a last, fading, gibbering, Nooooooooo.......

And then Felenga is gone forever, just like Acererak.


Next Time: Thread’s almost over, folks. Next time is the epilogue! After that- a new story hour thread for the epic party!

 

[Knightfall]

Awsome!