The War of the Burning Sky
The Indomitable Fire Forest of Innenotdar
Cast of Characters
Agatha
Ambar
B’Roos
Caryk
Gribron
Jonathan Farrier
Solsus (and Jaws)
Crystin
Haddin (her father)
Act 1 – The Elfroad
Flashback – Caryk
Temple of Dol Dorn, Free City of Gate Pass
November 22nd, 11 am
Torrent stood on the temple steps and looked at the scaly figure before her. Never before had she seen such an impressive collection of axes and javelins.
“Who are you, and what do you want?” she asked.
“My name is Caryk, Madam,” came the reply. “I’m a tortle. I have a letter of introduction to priestess Torrent of the Temple of Dol Dorn. In the Free City of Gate Pass,” he added, unnecessarily.
“That’s me,” said Torrent. “A letter from who?”
“Ambassador Ornaldo, Madam. He’s also a tortle. Like me.”
“Okay, I get the whole tortle thing. Come inside and give me the letter.” She strode off into the temple, and slow moving Caryk struggled to keep up.
“The thing is,” said Caryk, “most people say things like ‘what the heck are you’ when they first meet me. I like to get it out of the way early on.”
Once inside her small office, Torrent opened the letter. She didn’t recognise the seal, but there were only a handful of tortles in Gate Pass.
The letter read :-
“Temporary Tortle Embassy
Free City of Gate Pass
November 22nd
Dear Priestess Torrent,
I hope this letter finds you in good health. You may remember that we met last summer at the Lyceum, in Seaquen, on which occasion we had a very interesting discussion on the subject of politics.
Since then, I have had the honour of being appointed as ambassador for my people in your fine city of Gate Pass. The purpose of my embassy was to try and broker a treaty between the Ragesian Empire, the Shining Land of Shahalesti and the Free City of Gate Pass.
We tortles, whilst being nominally subject to Shahalesti, are often asked to act as intermediaries in such matters. Alas, my embassy has been a failure, largely due to the turmoil caused by the unfortunate death of Emperor Coaltongue, and I will shortly be heading east to the tortle lands in Shahalesti.
However, my nephew Caryk, who previously served as one of my retinue, will be remaining in the city and, if it would not presume too much on our acquaintance, I would like to recommend him to your service.
He is hardy and resilient, and has a good heart. However, he can be somewhat naïve and impetuous, and I feel he has reached a crossroads in his life.
In his youth, he showed great promise in the field of religious knowledge, and he was accepted as a student at the Monastery of the Two Winds by the Master of the West Wind himself, Longinus.
It was hoped that his time at the monastery would enable him to overcome his one vice, that of greed. Unfortunately, this was not the case. He also suffered a crisis of religious faith. Our family has long revered Aureon, God of Sages, and Caryk followed us in that faith. However, for whatever reason, his time at the monastery has caused him to doubt the teachings of the Sovereign of Law and Lore.
Longinus himself sent Caryk home to his people. He sent a kind letter, explaining he saw great potential in Caryk, but that until he was in better spiritual health there was nothing further he could learn there.
When I was given the honour of the post of ambassador, I took Caryk with me in the hope that, if religion was no longer appropriate, perhaps he could find a vocation in politics. However, his naiveté has proved a serious handicap, and now I am forced to return home in failure.
I recommend Caryk to you in the hope that you can find a place for him in your organisation, and that under your guidance, whilst experiencing the unique mixture of religious and political activity you undertake, Caryk can finally achieve his potential.
Your sincerely,
Ornaldo
Sometime ambassador to the Free City of Gate Pass”
Torrent turned to Caryk.
“So, you want a job?”
“Yes, Madam,” replied Caryk.
“Why didn’t you just say so? We can always use an extra pair of hands, especially at the moment. Now, what do you know about the Resistance?”
Scene 1
The Indomitable Fire Forest of Innenotdar
January 5th, 10 am
The nine figures follow the road as it enters the Fire Forest. The potions they have taken protect them from the worst effects of the heat, but they can still feel its withering touch. They are covered by the acrid smoke, which reduces visibility to a few feet.
Occasional gusts of wind clear the smoke, allowing the party to see the charred and blackened road as it runs ahead of them, but also fanning the flames into greater fury.
Haddin is the worst affected, coughing and spluttering almost constantly, but it is not a pleasant experience for anyone.
There is something strange about the flames. The fires burning in the undergrowth alongside the road seem strangely subdued in comparison to those above and behind. As the party moves along the road, the area of relative calm seems to be moving with them.
Suddenly Crystin stops.
“Eyes! A pair of dragon eyes. Looking at us from the flames. Looking at me.” She starts to sway.
“More eyes. Eyes in the fire! Eyes everywhere. Thousands of eyes.” She faints.
Whilst Caryk helps her back to her feet, the others scan the surroundings. There is no sign of any eyes watching them, draconic or otherwise.
“Is she mad?” asks Agatha.
“Possibly,” replies Jonathan, “but I think she’s had a premonition.”
There’s no sign of what may have triggered her fit, so they continue onwards. Solsus tries to scout ahead, but the flames seem to intensify the further he gets from the others, so in the end he keeps close to the rest of the party.
He is the first to spot three charred, smouldering bundles in the road. Jonathan identifies them as humanoid remains, possibly human. They are basically a collection of bones, with scraps of blackened flesh hanging off them. Various metal items surround the bodies – the clasp from a large book, some daggers, some coins and a spiked chain.
Carefully, Jonathan pokes around with his quarterstaff. The party know better than to touch the metal items, which must be blisteringly hot, and as there does not seem to be anything else of interest they start to move on.
At that moment, one of the bodies moves. How this flaming, agonised creature can manage to move is a mystery, and one Jonathan does not intend to investigate, He whips out his crossbow and shoots the creature in the head. “Thaaank youuu,” it whispers, and slumps back into a heap.
[Session ends]
A couple of miles into the forest, the party hears chittering and swooping in the branches overhead. A small, winged figure falls from the trees, and bumps into the surprised Gribron. The creature recovers quickly, and moves behind Gribron, making sure the man is between it and whatever has been chasing it through the forest.
Hard on its heels is a massive, fiery bat. The bat tries to gulp up its victim, but connects with Gribron instead. In keeping with his recent run of bad luck, Gribron takes the full force of the bat’s fiery bite, and collapses to the ground. The creature sheltering behind him curses in common.
“Why are you lying down? Get up! Get up!” it squeaks, before giving up on Gribron and taking cover behind Ambar. The bat hurtles past the party, and then swings back after its target. This time its bite hits its intended victim – but unlike the hapless Gribron its target is not bothered by the flames, and seems able to resist some of the force of the blow.
Ambar, Gribron and B’Roos move to engage the bat, which proves surprisingly agile for a creature of its size. Solsus tends to Gribron; a quick use of the healing wand has the man back on his feet.
Jonathan studies the bat’s target. “Hmm, a fire mephit. I wonder what its doing here? Anyway, better deal with that fiery dire bat first.” He unleashes a bolt of mental energy at the bat, which reels from the impact but does not go down.
Gribron, seeking to protect the mephit, creates an illusionary double of the creature in the hope of confusing the bat. City boy that he is, he doesn’t realise that bats don’t rely on sight when hunting their prey, so he is somewhat surprised when the bat ignores the silent illusion. Fortunately, the rest of the party were not depending on him to save the day, and the bat falls under a flurry of blows.
Solsus eyes the still-smouldering corpse, then turns his attention to the mephit. The creature has plucked a burning branch from a nearby tree, and is applying it to its injuries. The wounds start to slowly close up where the heat touches them.
“How long have you been in the forest?” asks Solsus.
“Are you trying to chat me up?” replies the mephit.
“Of course not,” replies Solsus huffily. “That would be far too frivolous.”
“I’m here on holiday. Been here a week, the forest is a great place.”
“Why was the bat chasing you?”
“It was hungry. Thanks for rescuing me guys. Much appre… uh oh …”
The smouldering corpse of the dire bat suddenly re-kindles, and the bat bursts back into life. Single-mindedly, it heads once more for the mephit, who darts behind Solsus. However, the reborn bat’s maiden flight comes to an abrupt end on the blade of B’Roos’s sword.
This time its remains turn to ash, and stay that way.
“Right, I’ll be off,” says the mephit. “Be careful of the burning animals, and don’t annoy the forest. Its like its alive in some weird way.” The little creature flies off into the undergrowth.
Ahead, the road arrives at a gorge some fifty feet wide and sixty feet deep. A charred stone bridge crosses the gorge. Its sides are guarded by stone railings, but at one point in the centre of the bridge the railings on the right hand side are missing. The surface of the bridge is heavily cracked in this area, and looks none too safe.
Solsus takes a look at the bottom of the bridge. It appears there are dozens of tiny fires burning underneath it. He turns himself invisible and flies off to investigate.
The tiny fires turn out to be a colony of fiery bats which are nesting on the underside of the bridge. Individually they are all much smaller than the monster bat the party has just defeated, but they more than make up for it by weight of numbers. The bats swarm out and engulf Solsus before he can react. His burning body drifts down into the gorge, but fortunately his fall is broken by a gorse bush.
Agatha winces.
“What’s happening?” asks Gribron.
“The fiery bats just hurt Solsus. He’s landed in a gorse bush, which must be doubly painful. He’s lucky he was wearing his trousers.”
“How could the bats see him?” asks Gribron. “He was invisible.”
“There’s no time for a nature lesson at the moment,” says Agatha, and walks down the side of the gorge to retrieve Solsus’s body.
Meanwhile the host of bats has headed towards the rest of the party. B’Roos and Caryk stand their ground, whilst the rest beat a hasty retreat. The bats head for B’Roos. He slices through their ranks with his mighty sword, killing many bats, but the rest swarm over him, biting and burning as they go.
Disorientated, B’Roos can only try and stagger out from underneath them. Caryk comes to his aid, assisted by missile fire from Jonathan, Ambar and Gribron. Their combined efforts turn the bats into smouldering corpses, drifting on the breeze.
Agatha carries Solsus’s limp body up the cliff, and gives the healing wand to Caryk. The tortle can’t see Solsus, but pokes the wand hopefully where he thinks the pixie’s torso is. Agatha winces again as the wand makes contact with a tender spot, but the healing magic does its trick and the pixie recovers consciousness.
“While I was down there, I saw a wagon at the bottom of the gorge,” says Agatha. It must have gone off the side of the bridge where the railing is broken.”
Agatha and the irrepressible Solsus head back down into the gorge, and return with a metal chest. Inside there are a number of potions, a wand which could be the twin of Torrent’s healing wand, and a small amount of gold and gems.
“I’ll have a go at identifying the potions,” says Solsus, “although its not really my area of expertise.”
“Oh give them here,” says Haddin irritably. He casually inspects the potions. “A dozen potions of Stand the Heat,” he announces.
Solsus flies across the gorge and then back again, inspecting the bridge as he goes.
“The area in the middle doesn’t look safe, but the rest seems fine,” he says. “I suggest we cut up planks from the wagon and use them to distribute your weight evenly across the shaky sections.”
The party quickly puts the plan into action, and soon has a supply of crude but serviceable planks.
B’Roos strolls across the bridge towards the weakened section, carrying an armful of planks. In order to cut down on his weight he has removed his armour. Caryk trails behind, carrying it.
It appears Solsus isn’t much of an engineer. One of the “safe” sections gives way beneath B’Roos’s feet, and he narrowly manages to save himself from a sixty foot plummet into the gorge below.
This leaves B’Roos in an awkward position, hanging onto the bridge by his fingers, with his legs dangling through a large hole in the floor.
“Stop clowning around,” says Haddin. “I don’t want to spend all week over a simple bridge crossing.”
B’Roos struggles to pull himself back onto the bridge, but with the help of Caryk pulling from above and Solsus pushing from below he eventually manages it.
“I probably should have thought of this earlier,” says Solsus, “but how about if I go ahead of you to test the bridge?” No sooner said than done, he sets off across the bridge.
“Solsus,” says Agatha, “it would probably be more use if you walked on the bridge, instead of flying just above it ….”
B’Roos makes it to the cracked section and lays down the planks. The group makes it across the bridge without further incident.
Some time later, Caryk and Solsus spot a small explosion ahead of the party. Solsus flies off to investigate, and returns with the news that a bearded figure is hiding in the undergrowth ahead of them. It has horns, a glaive and a certain devilish aspect to its countenance.
“Sounds like a bearded devil,” says Jonathan. “They are immune to fire, so would be right at home here in the forest.”
“He’s probably waiting to ambush us,” says Caryk. “Let’s move casually on the road until we are alongside him, then rush him.”
The party follow his plan, but as soon as they head towards the devil it vanishes in a pillar of fire.
“Probably teleported away,” suggests Jonathan. “We know that there’s some sort of fire effect burning up people who use teleportation magic, but that wouldn’t bother a devil. He could be anywhere.”
The party look around, but can’t see the elusive devil. Shrugging, they continue along the road.
Half an hour later, a large red dog steps out of the undergrowth ahead of them. It is carrying something in its mouth, which it then drops. The dog backs up and regards them expectantly.
“Looks like a hellhound,” says Jonathan. “Another creature that is not bothered by fire. I wonder what it dropped.”
“Only one way to find out,” replies Caryk, and heads towards the hellhound. Somewhat to his surprise, he realises it has dropped a bone. He picks it up, and reads aloud what has been inscribed on the bone in the Common tongue.
“Leave the case. Cooperate, and we might find an arrangement to spare your lives. Carry this with you if you wish to bargain.”
“What case?” asks Gribron.
“The case we got from Gate Pass, which we are carrying to Seaquen,” says Caryk impatiently. Arriving at decision, he hurls the bone over the hellhound’s head. “Fetch!”
The hellhound continues to stand and regard Caryk, but some party members think they detect a certain quizzical aspect to its gaze.
“Oh well, he might have fallen for it,” thinks Caryk, and charges the hellhound. The beast opens its jaws wide, and breathes out a cone of fire. Moving at full speed, Caryk nimbly manages to avoid the flames completely, and strikes the hellhound with his staff.
Its not clear whether the rest of the group are miffed by Caryk’s unilateral decision to attack the creature, but they wade into the fray with gusto. The beast quickly falls to a combination of sword blows, arrows and blasts of energy.
The party carry along the road, and some time later the clouds of smoke part in the wind and they spot the figure of the bearded devil standing in the road ahead of them.
“Greetings,” it says. “I see you are not carrying the femur. It appears you are not yet ready to listen to my terms. In that case, allow me to test your mettle.”
Five weird, pinkish blobs of matter rise from the ash on the side of the road, forming into vaguely humanoid shapes.
“That creature is the weakest,” declares the devil, pointing at Gribron with his glaive. “Kill him.” The creatures move forward in a line. Three of them swing blows at Gribron. The other two cannot reach him, so attack Ambar instead.
Gribron had readied a potion as soon as the devil appeared, and now he drinks it down. Uttering words of power, he summons a thick mist which shrouds and conceals the party but does not protect the devil’s minions. Then, calling upon the magical energies granted to him by the potion, he leaves the mist behind and takes to the air.
Ambar calls upon her own magical powers, and a shimmering shield of force appears in front of her, protecting her from attacks.
Cary steps into the spot vacated by Gribron, and strikes one of the creatures with his staff. It is not particularly nimble, and the modicum of protection provided by its tough skin is not enough to deflect the blow. However, mere wood proves not to be very effective against the creature’s fiendish flesh.
B’Roos, disdaining the lesser foes, charges towards the devil. Prudently, he has opted to use his shield in this encounter rather than swinging his sword two handed. However, in his enthusiasm he misjudges his blow and his sword thrust goes wide.
Jonathan Farrier, now shrouded in mist, cannot see any targets. The brief glimpse he was afforded of the devil’s minions was enough for him to identify them as lemures – pitiful creatures whose mindless nature means they will be immune to his mental attacks.
Instead, Jonathan heads down the road until he is out of the mist, then sends a bolt of mental energy towards the devil. It strikes home, and the devil acknowledges the hit by saluting him briefly with his glaive.
Smoothly, the devil then reverses the blade and with blinding speed slashes twice at B’Roos. The barbarian is knocked back by the force of the first blow, causing the second to miss. However, that one hit is enough to fell B’Roos.
Solsus, spotting B’Roos’s plight (and hoping the devil can’t detect invisible opponents) flies over to heal the barbarian. For once, however, his trusty wand of healing lets him down. There is a foul quality to the wounds which resists the magic; worse, the wounds are continuing to bleed. B’Roos will quickly bleed to death unless Solsus can do something.
“I guess I’ll have to do this the old fashioned way,” thinks Solsus. He pulls out his healing kit, and extracts some bandages and herbs. He carefully applies the herbs to the wound, and then bandages it up to stop the bleeding.
The immediate danger has now passed, but it will take more than bandages to get B’Roos back on his feet. Solsus uses the wand once more. Charge after charge fizzles with no effect, but a few manage to overcome whatever foul force is in the wound, and slowly B’Roos is returned to health.
Gribron, flying safely above the fray, is momentarily at a loss as to how to combat the devil. Then he recalls the lantern archon they encountered in the depository in Gate Pass. He seems to remember that devils and archons don’t get along.
“So I’m the weakest, am I? Let’s see how you handle my archons, Beardy!” he yells at the devil. He then creates an illusion of three lantern archons behind the devil. They impudently pulsate with light in a way the devil finds particularly offensive. Snarling in rage it moves over to the nearest “archon” and slices it in two with his glaive. It is somewhat surprised by the ease with which its blow passes through the archon’s body, but its light dims in a particularly pleasing manner and the devil decides it was simply due to its own martial prowess.
Jonathan Farrier continues to aim mental blasts at the devil. The creature is better prepared now, but most of them still penetrate its defences. Despite this, the damage seems little more than an irritation.
Meanwhile, Ambar and Caryk are skirmishing with the lemures. Most of them have advanced into the mist, so are now benefiting from its concealment. The lemures are fairly easy to hit, but resistant to both longsword and quarterstaff. On the other hand, the lemures are finding it well nigh impossible to hit Caryk and Ambar.
This stalemate is broken by Agatha, whose eldritch blasts seem to have little difficulty harming fiendish flesh, but even so it takes two or three strikes to finish one off.
The devil finishes off the second “archon”, and now seems to realise it has been tricked. It fixes its gaze on Jonathan Farrier, exposed at the edge of the mist, and gives an evil smile.
Desperately, Jonathan concentrates his remaining mental energy into one last blow. It penetrates the devil’s defences, but instead of dissipating to little effect like the previous attacks instead it penetrates deep into the devil’s psyche. The creature is visibly shocked by the mental onslaught, and its devilish life force has been substantially diminished.
“My compliments,” it says, and salutes Jonathan once more. “Until we meet again …” It vanishes in a plume of flame.
The departure of their master has not weakened the lemures. Ambar and Caryk continue to flail away ineffectually, until finally the spell which summoned them runs out and the lemures collapse into piles of ash once more.
Gribron dismisses his mist, and lands next to his comrades. “I don’t know about you guys, but I could really do with a rest now.”
Jonathan, exhausted by his heroic efforts, can only nod in agreement.
