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Message: <blockquote data-quote="the Jester" data-source="post: 1473957" data-attributes="member: 1210">Look- the InquisitionThe morning of Windmonth 18, year 368 of Our Lord Galador, dawns over Var with a beautiful orange sky.  The wind scatters twigs and dust as it sweeps through the ruins of the portions of the city still in ruins from Fuligin’s era.  It enters town from the west, as if it were fleeing from some monster tromping inland from the distant coast, and sweeps past an old druid’s grove long spoiled by the evil that Malford and his motleys had overthrown.  The wind makes its way through the ruins of old houses and buildings, then skates across the surface of the Heroes’ Canal before it finds new homes and thriving businesses, the early risers already hard at work.  It passes through neighborhoods rebuilt, torn down and built anew as it winds eastward.  Finally it passes over a great cathedral whose tall, gothic spires stab at the sky, catching the light on gold leafed points.  Many small mirrors, designed to reflect the sunny glory of Galador, catch the rising light and flare into brilliance.  A few columns of smoke rise from the kitchens and several of the colder rooms, but the cathedral is well-designed to keep its warmth (despite its profoundly vaulted ceilings and high archways).  This is the Cathedral to Dexter, built by the King to commemorate the best friend he ever had, who sacrificed himself not once- but twice- to save others. The front of the building is a beautiful thing, with stained glass windows glowing with gold and crimson as the beams of the morning sun catch on them.  The entire cathedral is built to impress.  The doors that enter the main front chamber are large and chased with gold.  Statues of white marble flank it; they depict a pair of fierce angels (Michael and Gabriel, to those with the background to recognize them).  The wind sweeps away across the rooftops to the east as two men, garbed in well-trimmed robes of red and violet, are approaching the entrance.These men are dressed in the robes of the Inquisition.They let themselves into the cathedral. The acolyte, upon catching sight of them, pales.  He does not know why they are here, but whatever it is, it frightens him.Our friend the wind, meanwhile, has left the town of Var.  It sweeps over the plains towards the Bendrock Mountains.  It travels fast, and by the time the sun is directly overhead it has reached the rugged hills that cling to their feet.  But we must leave the wind behind for the moment; we’re ready to return to our heroes.  At the castle, our heroes have spent a night of celebration and whooping it up that broke a few glasses.  Sybele is overjoyed to have Thrush back and the two spend hours alone together, doing- well, we can all assume that they’re doing what adventuring couples do when one of them has his soul restored after having it sucked away, which is have lots frantic sex.  Nothing like almost losing your lover to really make you appreciate him.  Angel and Londo emulate them.Eventually- about now, at noon- Angel approaches Orbius and gets him to teleport her to the Shining City in Tirchond.  She goes there pretty much to check in, and she ends up, among other things, donating 5000 gold pieces each to the Silver University and the to a food drive, for there is a near-famine in the city.  She’s not happy about it- she wants her city to be okay.  She smiles to herself; she hasn’t spent enough time here in quite a while.  Oddly enough to one who knew of her Lawful Evil predilections but not of her background, Angelfire is in fact a Tirchondian patriot.  Upon her return she vows to check in again soon.  When she relates the news from home to Sybele, Sybele frowns as well.  Horbin, meanwhile, has walked down the King’s Hill (formerly known as the Baron’s Hill, but hey, times change) that Malford’s castle perches at the top of, and he now strides across the broad Aspen Bridge.  It’s said that the bridge’s construction was considerably aided by the fey; knowing that Malford has many connections, Horbin doesn’t doubt it for a second.  After the bridge he passes through a series of new-cobbled roads surrounded by living town rather than dead city, and finally up to the Cathedral of Dexter.  It is about time that he checked up on Metron; the man’s not stable, and Horbin worries about him fairly often.When he enters the nave of the Cathedral, an adept seats him and informs him that Metron has been in conference with some authorities of the Church all day.  Horbin heaves a sigh and waits.  After an hour, he decides he’s about had enough; he’ll wait another half hour, but then he’s got stuff to do.Fortunately, about twenty minutes later, Metron’s chamber’s door swings open and the two Inquisitors emerge.  They walk past Horbin, glance at him, and do a small double take.  Clearly they recognize him.Now, Horbin the Holy is well-regarded in ecclesiastic circles as a powerful healer and a strong warrior for Good; however, he’s also known as a rather extreme liberal reformist, which is not the kind of cleric that the Inquisition has traditionally counted as among its friends.  The Inquisitors breeze on past, but Horbin’s presence here probably adds to whatever situation they’re here about.  He groans inwardly.”Metron will see you now,” says the adept, and leads Horbin in.  Metron is sitting behind his desk, looking shaken and despondent. “Inquisitors?” Horbin asks.Metron groans.  “They know things... they know I see things.”Metron, Horbin knows, has been seeing some sort of weird things swimming through the air around him for months.  Hallucinations?  Perhaps.  But Horbin the Holy has been around enough curses, illusions, monsters, spells and weird phenomena to discount nothing.  Maybe there is something there.  Maybe Metron is on to something.  But whatever the case, he seems reasonably harmless and he is one of Var’s leading Dexterites.Horbin counsels discretion.  There isn’t much else that he can do.  So he leaves, telling Metron to be careful what he says and to whom.  On the way out, he looks curiously at the minor laypeople around, wondering who among them is a spy for the Inquisition.  It’s said that every important temple has at least one.The sun’s passage across the sky continues.  By the time Horbin’s heading back to the castle it has crossed its zenith and started swinging down towards the sea in the west, into which it will plunge at dusk.  What would it be like to see that? Horbin wonders idly.  When it finally passes out of sight that evening, our heroes have just finished a nice dinner courtesy of the King and Queen yet again, and Orbius is scribbling on a piece of parchment while the others watch.  “All right,” the Eye is saying, “we this is the riddle at the entrance to Moil.  This tells us what we have to do.  I’m going to figure out how with a contact other plane.”When he’s done writing the riddle out from his prodigious memory he reads it aloud.“This City That Waits was the city of Moil,Where dreams truly died, but bodies yet toil,In slumber unrelenting they lie yet in waitBiding their time to seal your fate.Discovery of the Void and my Fortress withinDemands exploration through peril again.Find amid towers degenerate the single keyAnd 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. 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 obstacleFor those who pursue this written oracle; The Phantom released flies you in fashionTo my inevitable Fortress of Conclusion.”He hums and haws for a minute, then says, “Well, it’s obvious what we’ve got to do.  There’s a dragon, this darkweaver, whoever she is, and the webs of glowing emerald.”“Let’s do the dragon first,” Drelvin says eagerly.  “I like killing dragons.”Orbius casts his spell.Which tower houses the lair of the brine dragon?  The Aqueous Tower.What kind of breath weapon does the brine dragon have? Acid.What type of energy attack will be most effective against the brine dragon?  Don’t know.Which tower holds the emerald webs?  Don’t know.Is the key to the portcullis that holds the phantom flyer in the lair of the brine dragon?  Yes and no.We probably need something from each of these locations, Orbius reasons.Will a Mordenkainen’s disjunction destroy the bars holding the phantom flyer?  No.Will protection from negative energy protect us from the starved swallow of the key?  You misunderstand.Hm, I guess the starved swallow belongs to the dragon, he thinks.Has anyone taken possession of the L’s soul since he’s been in the Void?  No.Is he in likely danger of this happening in the next week?  Yes.What is our best means of transporting into the Void and being able to save Lester? The phantom flyer.“Well, then,” Orbius says cheerfully, “I think we need to figure out which one is the Aqueous Tower.”Next Time: Our heroes return to Moil!</blockquote>

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