ZEITGEIST [ZEITGEIST] The Continuing Adventures of Korrigan & Co.

[gideonpepys]

Session 220, Part Two - The Old Cairns

A quick call to Uriel confirmed that the message used an old method of timekeeping based on the constellations. The Volgir Valley was home to several ancient rings of stones—the Old Cairns. Centuries ago giants crafted these hundred foot megaliths as an astronomical clock. Later, dwarves and humans buried their dead among the massive stones. All they needed to do was find the nearest circle. Korrigan used his roving eye and, after several attempts, spotted them higher in the mountains, about an hour away. They travelled there and waited. (Kvarti took up a hidden position, to draw a bead on whatever approached.)

Their patience was rewarded by the breath-taking sight of a flame-bearded vsadni arriving on horseback. This was Tzertze the war-drummer. He dismissed his steed and greeted them in ancient dwarven – old-fashioned in tenor but polite, despite his booming voice.

Rumdoom said he had a score to settle with the ‘Speaker of Ice and Snow’, a topic that Tzerzte warmed to at once: “I do not believe that she is a true speaker of the End Times, and I do not wish to serve her. Her plan is to use her mighty weapon to destroy every city in Drakr, and then order her army to kill itself. I see no challenge, no glory, no great battle. But Nebo follows her at the behest of our master, as do the others.” Then he detailed his grievances with the rest of the vsadni, as an invitation to persuasion.

Korrigan gave Rumdoom a few telepathic suggestions and he replied, “I am the Avatar of the Icy End and the Stone of Not she wields is mine. I seek to retrieve it and revenge many wrongs. But that is just for now. Our goals are bigger than that.”

“How?” asked the vsadni. Rumdoom told him about the Ob, and about the changes they had made to the world; that they sought to control it, and decide on the end for everyone. Tzertze grunted, and was clearly offended by such arrogance. Gupta spoke up in Ancient Dwarven, and wove a spell into her words, to impart an ideal to Tzertze: the Ob were a worthy foe. Rumdoom then made an eschatological pronouncement, to the effect that they should ally with Tzertze, handing the reins of negotiation over to Korrigan with this powerful edict ringing in all of their ears.

Before they could go any further, however, Tzerzte had a few demands: he wanted a harem (the practicalities of which he would work out later); and he wanted the tower of Bhad Ryzhavdut; and he wanted the weapons of any of his fallen brethren. Korrigan would not countenance the first two. Tzerzte was indignant. “What use are the weapons with nowhere to put them? I’m not going to cart them all about with me!” Korrigan would not budge, though he knew what it would make it much harder to win Tzertze over. In some strange way, his intransigence seemed to resonate with the vsadni, who suddenly declared, much to their surprise, that he would fight for them, even against his own brothers, if it came to it.

Tzerzte went on to share with them the powers and personalities of his warlord brethren and the array of the army. The most interesting bit of information was that the giants were only mercenaries. Unable to speak dwarven or common, the dictats of the Grandis meant nothing to them. They followed her for a share of the spoils, and certainly had no idea that Komanov meant to sacrifice them! Korrigan determined that he would find their leader and speak with her, to which end, Tzertze painted them all with a symbol – a bloody-eyed skull with a green forked tongue – visible only to them and the frost giants, indicating they were not to be harmed. This done, he said he must return to camp before his absence grew long enough to be questioned. They told him to be ready and he said he was looking forward to it.

When Tzertze was gone, Kvarti emerged from hiding and told the others that the vsadni had a weakness: a chunk of ice imbedded in their chests, just beneath their stony ribcage. “Vulnerable to fire,” he said.

Then Korrigan unveiled yet another mind trick he had been practising – inspired by the multiple ‘selves’ Sijhen had been able to manifest. Taking the group down to the lower slopes, he found a comfortable spot some distance away from the group, and meditated. After a time, he was able to manifest a mental projection of himself and send it forth into the frost giant camp – flying down into the valley and then walking casually in. Suspicious warriors gathered around him, but his demeanour flummoxed them. He demanded to be taken to their leader: Jarl Klar Pyaar of Clan Thunder. She was disdainful at first, and demanded to know why he had not come to her in person. Korrigan said that he did not have time for that, and that he had come to her with a warning: Grandis Komanov was a zealot, and planned to betray her clan.

The Jarl tossed her head back and laughed. “Why should I take the word of a wisp?”

“I have brought you the truth. Do what you want with it. There are others who have already chosen to side with us, as you can see.” He gestured at the symbol Tzertze had marked him with. After a suitable pause, he added, “Soon we will bring fire and destruction to this camp. If you stand aside, it will not fall upon you.” After another pause, he said: “To compensate you for the loot you will not earn, and to demonstrate my good will, I will bring you 10000gp from Risuri coffers.”

“Very well,” said the Jarl. “When I see the gold, I will believe you.”

Horns blared – the signal to decamp. The Five Lost Riders summoned their huge ice sleds and the army packed up around Korrigan. He dismissed his projection and awoke in the woods.

Uriel, he said telepathically, I have a few logistical issues for you to deal with.

Uriel had done all he could to help Leon for the time being. Leaving the tiefling to continue his exploration of the closest planes, he did as he was bid and brought 10000gp to the Coaltongue, now in the air above Mirsk. Leaving the gold behind, he took the form of an albatross, and flew along the valley, over the approaching army, on the lookout for a clockwork carriage, clattering along the ice. When he found it, he landed and hailed his friends. They disembarked, and Uriel used a teleportation ritual to take them back to the Coaltongue. They arrived two or three hours ahead of the Doomsday Army.

Korrigan flew down to the city. He did not have time to locate the city leaders, he simply used his macrophone to address the populace from the largest central square and warn them of the approaching force. They had heard rumours and seen signs, this was not completely out of the blue, but one sceptical dwarf shouted, “Who are you?”

“I am King Baldrey of Risur,” he replied, as the Coaltongue soared over the rooftops above them, and sky-writing augmented his words.

 

[gideonpepys]

Session 220, Part Three - The Carnage Parade

Mirsk was not heavily fortified, but there were sufficient defences to stave off a simple assault by small bands of raiders, or hostiles from the far north. Such things had not happened for centuries. The worst violence experienced by Mirsk had been the destruction of the railyard just over a year ago, an incident that was squarely blamed on the new king of Risur and his accomplices.

Nevertheless, the dwarves appeared to take Korrigan’s words at face value – not least because it didn’t take long for them to be confirmed by advanced sightings, but also because traffic along the icy Volgir had ceased for the last few days, and here was a singular explanation. Without panic – dwarves never panic – the inhabitants withdrew behind their fortifications.

A few hours later, the doomsday army arrived. The ice sleds fanned out, and the occupants disembarked chaotically. The giants took up the left flank. Nebo guarded Komanov at the centre, but now it was far easier to get to them, with the army strung out on either side. This is why the unit had waited for the army to lay a second siege, and why the news that Komanov needed to attune the Cyclopean Revelation had been so important, otherwise they would have needed to strike sooner.

When the army had taken up its initial positions, Betel and Yarost blew on their horns and the camp grew still. Groups of Komanov’s most loyal cultists weaved through the army, handing out alcohol rations while loudly proclaiming their ideology:

“All must end. The world is all we know. The world must end. Let us witness that end. A serpent wraps its white coils around our destiny. Let our strength bolster his. Let our souls feed him. Let our glory be the last image seen by his cyclopean gaze. The battle is nigh.”

Uriel alone saw all of this from the frost giant camp. The others were on the Coaltongue, but during the chaos of disembarkation, Uriel had used one of the gith’s flying discs to transport the chest of Risuri gold he had brought to the feet of the frost giant Jarl. She was suitably impressed and agreed that they would not fight for Komanov.

Uriel prepared to depart, but what happened next gave him pause: The leader of the vsadni, Nebo, came into view, mounted on a colossal white wyrm – a creature almost as breath-taking as one of the fey titans. Nebo himself was equally imposing, clad in black adamantine (his vulnerable ice-chunk concealed). Together they drew a huge sled of ice, upon which Grandis Komanov sat enthroned. She stood, and thousands of dwarves grew silent. Various braziers and bonfires around the camp were snuffed, their flames replaced by a wavering blue light in the shape of Grandis Komanov’s face so that each of her followers could see and hear her.

She addressed them with a long speech, slow and intimate at first, reinforcing the bonds they shared through recent suffering, and a shared history of conflicts that never could bring peace. Slowly, though, she built up the intensity of her rhetoric, elucidating a condensed list of that painted the leaders of Drakr in the darkest terms possible – as oathbreakers and cowards. She named the great cities of Drakr, landmarks in each, and with proclaimed that the monuments crafted by these corrupt leaders must be torn down.

As she spoke, the strands that linked each warrior with the hivemind grew more solid, and some even glowed. Before now, it had been nothing but a background hum, now it was visible, as an audible, roiling, angry cloud. Tellingly, though, no such strand linked Grandis to the hivemind. Perhaps, thought Uriel, that is what prevents it from building? Their focus was not connected.

Komanov finished her speech with these words: “Warriors of the Final Army, the world’s end is nigh. Its eyes? Dark! Its heart? Like a frozen river! Its breath? Crushed from it like a goat trapped in the coils of a serpent. None of us can be saved. All that remains is for us not to shrink in fear from the icy end of the earth, but to be brave, to stand like giants until the final light. The song of our people, the tale of our families, has lasted centuries, and now we shall give that song the grand finale it deserves. We shall sweep across this land like a scythe, and our march shall leave no life behind to suffer a pathetic, whimpering death. Glory! That is what we bring! For if this world is to die, let it be in battle! Let it be in passion! Let it be at our hands!”

To thunderous cheers, the five Vsadni galloped through the entire camp as they sang a rousing war song to whip up frenzied adulation of Komanov. More chaos: dozens of people died, either trampled by the beasts or pulled up onto the sleds for gruesome sacrifice. Uriel left this appalling seen behind, and – flying low until he was out of sight – took his stone disc back up on to the Coaltongue.

Then the unit held a carnage parade of their own:

They took the Coaltongue down fast. As it swept over the unsuspecting army, the bomb-bay doors were opened. Dozens of incendiary bombs and high explosives were dropped and the Tyrant’s Eye cut a continual swathe through whatever was beneath it. The hivemind thickened and roiled in response. It was difficult to see anything, save for the heads of the vsadni, but thanks to the Third Blade of Srasma, Gupta knew exactly where to find Komanov. Judging things as best they could, they leaped overboard at her command.

As they floated downward, they witnessed the summoning of a great blizzard. Brought into being by the hivemind, possessed of zealous belief in the icy end, the blizzard was a living thing that now sought to embroil the Coaltongue as she completed her bombing run and banked away. Three of the Vsadni took to the air on their fimbulwinter steeds and joined the pursuit.

“We are at war,” shouted Korrigan, acknowledging the possibility of casualties. Fortunately, they were few – Admiral Smith had drilled his crew for what happened next, as they lured the blizzard and vsadni away as fast and as far as they could. As soon as the storm hit, Smith engaged the fey portal pad, and Coaltongue jumped to deep space.

Squads of dwarven fanatics and a great skeletal phalanx stood between the unit and Komanov. Gupta stalked towards her with the single-mindedness of a Vekeshi excoriant, shrugging off bullets and blows. Uriel used his deathly gaze to bring the dwarves to a halt – all those that could see him. Others opened fire, doing more damage to their brethren than to their foes. Then Rumdoom cleared some serious space, with a magical burst of frost that hurt friend and foe alike. Fortunately, his heroic friends could withstand the onslaught. Komanov’s army could not.

Nebo and the Frostwyrm Distemper now loomed over them, but above the chaos, Komanov’s magical voice could be heard, bringing their foes to a standstill.

“Let them pass!” she commanded.

End of Session

 

[gideonpepys]

Session 221, Part One - The Madness of Grandis

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SYnVYJDxu2Q

Dear Reader, as you listen to the chorus, kindly change the lyrics of this song to: "Grandis Komanov, Servant of the Voice of Rot..." etc.

Komanov’s command caused a path to open through her troops. They advanced cautiously. As they went, Korrigan weighed up their odds. They were bad. While the steps they had taken – negotiating with Tzertze, turning the giants, the aerial bombardment – had certainly had an impact, they were insufficient to tip the balance in their favour. Gupta, meanwhile, realised that the army was divided along multiple lines, but the most obvious division was this: diehard, fanatic Komanov loyalists formed a substantial minority, distinguished by their habiliments and mien; the majority of the force consisted of recent recruits, caught up in the snowball hysteria as the army rolled through Drakr. This latter group looked like farmers, guildsman, militiamen who had been dragged away from their former lives and were ill-equipped and ragged, after weeks on the road.

Ahead, they could see Nebo, mounted on the frostwyrm Distemper (and armoured in adamantine, Quratulain realised), forming a mountainous backdrop behind the Grandis. She still sat atop her throne, though the ice chariot had been dismissed. She held the twelve-foot Cyclopean Revelation casually at her hip. To one side of her stood her deranged lackey; on the other a blindfolded half-giant wielding a maul of ice. Its head was the Stone of Not – the ice formed and reformed around it, constantly destroyed and recreated. (Rumdoom could not help but think that this was an undignified use for the Kum Ruk Nazar. Unimaginative.) At the foot of her throne sat Vlendham Heid, still in his tweed suit, though somewhat dishevelled. Just behind it, forming a cruel standard, the crucified Bhalu, groaning in constant pain. A cultist periodically healed him to stop him from dying of his injuries. It was better that they did not establish their connection with these two, and so they were careful not to acknowledge them.

Two doomsday priests stepped forward and gestured for them to hold some fifty feet or so from Komanov. A circumference of warriors and skeletons formed, eager to resume hostilities and elite doomsday riflemen kept a close eye on them. (All except for Uru, who had disappeared into the crowd.) The unit communicated telepathically. Rumdoom wanted to attack at once; Hildegard gave his hand a supportive squeeze. Korrigan noted the unfavourable odds, but wondered if it wouldn’t be better just to take out the head and hope the army crumbled. Still, that was a risk. Gupta said that the mass of troops was driven by the hivemind – a hivemind formed by their devotion to Grandis Komanov and their belief in her doctrines.

Komanov began to speak:

“I should be angry, but I am not. Your approach gives me chance to share with you my philosophy, which had impressed all of these brave dwarves, and I daresay, the esteemed Vlendham Heid.” Heid’s wide-eyed stare sought to silently distance himself from that assertion. “I hate warmth. I adore ice. It’s what brought me my prosperity – you could ask my lackey, but he lacks the tongue to tell the tale. I was a caravan guide, and he and many other fat, chatty merchants were with me when a weeks-long blizzard trapped us in the mountains. It was my magic alone that protected them from freezing to death. Believe that, my magic, keeping those arrogant dragon-minded misers alive while I was being paid a pittance.

“My family always claimed we were descended from those who now serve me.” She gestured to Nebo and the other riders. “We had the blood of warlords. But modern temperance had led us into poverty. I spent long evenings reading a book of philosophy – old man Heid’s famous treatise – and I got to thinking of how my life might end. I would be damned if I would leave this world a failure. Well I say, I demanded my fair payment, and one of the merchants did not much appreciate that. I think it was when I ate his tongue that the others changed their minds.

“As I say, I adore ice. That blizzard made me rich, and killed everyone who could testify upon my sins. …”

This was just the beginning. On and on she went. Was she playing for time? She went on talking even as the unit began to ignore her and talk telepathically among themselves – trying to decide on a course of action. Rumdoom still wanted to attack. But the odds! He might be immortal, but what about his friends? Uriel had quietly invoked Tadeo, the Cardinal. Would this be the right moment to call upon Triegenes?

Komanov had moved into a phase of taunting Rumdoom and his rival cult. For a time it had seemed like a threat, but now? “I have the Stone, the Eye, a Doomsday Army, and what does ‘Rumschatology’ have?”

Gupta responded, aloud, “Rumdoom, Komanov has brought you a new congregation to be converted.”

The challenge was implicit, and Komanov was arrogant enough to accept, but not without adding a counter-challenge of her own. “I will give you leave to speak to my followers if you can defeat my champion!” She gestured at the half-giant wielding the Kum Ruk Nazar. Rumdoom nodded. “Be careful,” whispered Hildegaard as he stepped forward.

The half-giant strode towards him, clumsily, seemingly unimpeded by the blindfold. It stopped a few feet away, gave a massive bellow of rage, raised the maul aloft, and stomped on the ice. Its shinbone shattered with the impact, and its right forearm snapped like matchwood. The half-giant collapsed onto its face, dropping the maul, which shattered and pitched the Stone of Not towards Rumdoom. Shocked silence.

“We take that to be an omen!” Korrigan declared.

Though clearly infuriated and a trifle chagrined, Komanov waved an airy hand as if completely unconcerned by this disaster. “I will speak first. Our words and yours will reach my army through the cold fires!”

The necessary arrangements were made, and while they waited the four vsadni returned, taking their places in a distant semi-circle around the unit. Quratulain analysed them; Uriel weaved their fate.

Komanov was more of a rhetorical speaker than a scholar, and so she crafted her arguments in a way to capture the emotions of her followers. The key points in her speech were:

“The world is going to end, so personal consequences are immaterial. People should do what they want.” Uriel realised that the world was not assured to end. While planar mechanics were complicated, it was possible to explain what happened and how they, the unit, intended to fix it. He suggested this counter-argument to Rumdoom, telepathically.

“The history and traditions of the world are personal and worthy of respect. I want everyone to fulfill a great destiny to give the world a fine ending!” Korrigan suggested a nihilist tack. Rumdoom could recount the stories of other once-great leaders or heroes (details of which Korrigan would supply), figures who fell from power and were nearly forgotten by history. This would emphasise that there is never a single narrative in world affairs, just a constant roil of different elements rising and falling.

“The best way to end this world is to tear down all the corrupt and weak who kept the world from achieving its highest greatness. We will start with the political leaders of Drakr and their followers.” Rumdoom realised that every religion, nation, and family had stories of martyrs who, when faced with an unavoidable death, chose to maintain their ideals rather than seek revenge. Comparing Grandis to historical traitors would show that her path is the wrong one.

To rile up her army, Komanov again detailed a half-dozen high profile actions by those in power, which offended the masses, some ancient, some recent. Korrigan would help Rumdoom counter with a variety of positive influences in modern Drakr, as well as neutral groups who would suffer at the army’s hand.

Komanov ended by comparing her army to various mighty heroes from myth and legend, and comparing Rumdoom and his allies to cowards, tricksters, and the same politicians who she was out to destroy. High drama, which, as a prelude to Rumdoom’s response, Gupta challenged directly: sounding a beat on Mother’s Rabana, she sang a song of the destruction of the deep ones, who last sought to wield the Stone of Not. They perished at the coming of the new, at the coming of the gidim. She gestured aloft, at the hivemind, hoping to make the army aware of it. Now they saw the blizzard elemental had returned, having lost the Coaltongue. It swept to and fro overhead, ready to be unleashed.

Now it was Rumdoom’s turn. Taking each point in turn, he traduced his rival cult-leader. The effort was great, the chances slim, and yet, somehow, his dogged arguments began to prevail. As he countered each of her irrational arguments, her hold began to slip. First the hivemind sputtered out, as sufficient numbers of ‘believers’ shook themselves free – the blizzard, in turn, dissipated. Then many in the army began to rail against Komanov, and internecine fights broke out.

As a finisher, Rumdoom added, “Call yourself a prophet of the endtimes? You couldn’t even foresee the death of your champion, and the return of the Stone of Not to its rightful owner!”

The scattered scraps turned into a wave of defiance as the unwitting recruits turned against the loyalists. Komanov scowled. “Enough!” she cried, and levelled the Cyclopean Revelation.

 

[RangerWickett]

I am amused by the champion just falling apart. What's up with that?

 

[gideonpepys]

I am amused by the champion just falling apart. What's up with that?

Bit of bathos to lighten the mood. And extended proximity to the Stone of Not caused the champion to collapse. Just a warning to my players not to weaponise it without caution.

 

[gideonpepys]

Session 221, Part Two - Overwhelming Odds?

Uriel blessed his allies with the Staff of the Hierophant. Heid ducked behind Komanov’s throne. Quratulain took steady aim at the chest cavity of the vsadbni, Hamul. She realised her lantern blaster and pistol would not be of that much use here, and that the angle was all wrong for a good shot. Korrigan swigged a potion of giant strength from the Borenbog’s Gourd. Uru appeared from hiding behind Komanov and hit her with a shot that would have felled an elephant. She grimaced, but did not spare him a glance, relying on her allies to defend her, and on her dancing frostblade. It missed, as did her lackey, who tried to cast a horrid spell on Uru to no avail. Uncomfortable with such exposure, Uru hid in the shadows of the Grim Candle and took to the air on Little Jack.

Komanov fired her death weapon. No one was expecting that the necrotic beam it issued would be so broad or so long. Most of the unit leapt out of the way, except Rumdoom, who was hit full force. He was still standing when the beam subsided, though it had carved a path of death through everyone else it hit, mowing a two-hundred foot swathe through Komanov’s army, killing loyalist and rebel alike. Rumdoom then began to loudly list all the other things that hadn’t killed him – two krakens, a behir, the Family, a bomb that almost killed the Bruse of Ber, the fall from the Lance of Triegenes in pursuit of the Ob’s colossus. What chance did she have?

Nebo began to sing. The vsadni joined in one by one – two horns, a harp and… no drums. Nebo turned his head to look at Tzertze, who was holding his picks the wrong way round. Wordlessly, the fiery drummer declared his defiance, taking a single stride towards Betel and striking his chest cavity with first one pick, then the other. Slain, Betel toppled backwards, crushing all beneath him. The vsadni’s music did not seem quite so fearful now. Rumdoom uttered a fiat, and none of the unit faltered.

Rumdoom ran forward to square off against Komanov then, sufficiently wounded, unleashed the fury of the Icy End of the World. Even she could not stand cold that extreme. To stop the blizzard, she struck at Rumdoom with her frostblade. The blow landed, but he soldiered on, and courtesy of Gupta, radiant Vekeshi fire punished the Grandis. She cried out, her frostblade shattered, and an aura of forgetfulness caused all around to lose their sense of purpose. Most quickly shook off the charm, but Korrigan succumbed. Badly injured, Komanov sought to drain the life-force of a dying ally (of which there were many all around), but she could not do so, thanks to the power of the Icy End.

Kvarti checked out the icy heart of Yarost, but couldn’t draw a bead on it from this angle, so he knelt and took careful aim at Komanov’s lackey.

Gupta asked Nebo a question: “Nebo, can’t you see we're all turning on you?” This perplexed the vsadni, and he stood dumbfounded.

Uriel now called down a radiant beam that forced Yarost to his knees. Sweat springing from his blue brow, he maintained it. Yarost could do nothing, not even defend himself. Tzertze crowed with delight at this opportunity, stomped towards Yarost and killed him too.

Quraulain took out the enormous Nok Gun from her magical cloak, and used her rocket boots to leap into the chest cavity of Hamul. She braced for kickback, and opened fire with all nine barrels. The foul vsadni gave a terrible moan. The gun had all but shattered his icy heart. Within, Quratulain could see the frozen form of an ancient dwarven corpse.

Korrigan shook off the pall of forgetfulness and took command of himself. It was not like him to succumb to such trickery!

Komanov took another swing at Rumdoom. With a sweep of her hand, an invisible force crashed against him like a titanic hammer. The ground beneath his feet blackened and decayed. Then she stepped away, to win clear of the Icy End and the necrotic blight she had invoked, and raised a huge wall of ice in a horseshoe around her. (Kvarti cursed. His target was again denied! He instead drew a bead on the frostwyrm Distemper, studying it for weaknesses.) Rumdoom shrugged and simply stepped through the wall – it wouldn’t be there at the end of time! Both Komanov and her lackey attacked him again, but their blows did not land.

Gupta focused her mind and tried to ask another question of Nebo – a very difficult thing to do. She asked, “Is even your steed afraid?” (The stupid creature had done nothing without instruction from its rider.) Again, she baffled Nebo, who was kept out of the fight.

Loyalists on the fringes of the army had been herding remorhaz towards their position, seeking to support Komanov. Now they were intercepted by the frost giants of Clan Thunder, who were smart enough to know which way the wind was blowing. Boar cavalry from Mirsk was also riding out to join the fray. These unexpected allies would sow even more confusion in the ranks of the doomsday army, unable to distinguish between loyalist and mutineer. Likewise, Tzerzte, who had not responded to any attempts the unit made to co-ordinate with him and – having slain both axemen – now stomped off to enjoy his freedom by killing as many dwarves as possible.

Uriel took the form of a small bird and flew high into the air – to avoid the multiple, overlapping and deadly auras on the battlefield. Quratulain stowed the Nok Gun, took out her lantern blaster and fired. Now the icy core was cracked, a single force blast was all it took to finish the job. She jumped out before Hamul took her down with him.

Uru took another shot at Grandis Komanov. This time, she gave an anguished cry, before her form dissipated into snowflakes.

Korrigan flew towards Nebo’s steed, and led the attack on the creature, cutting into it with the Sword of Maur Granatha. Even without Nebo’s command, the beast knew to respond to a direct attack. The ground cracked beneath the weight of the plated white worm as it reared back to lunge for him, maw open and spraying dried black pus. It took more fiery, radiant revenge from Gupta. Then Gupta asked yet another question of Nebo – more than she had ever asked before, with each attempt more difficult that the last. “Is your false leader watching?” Nebo was bamboozled yet again!

Komanov reformed atop her own twenty-foot-high wall. She fired the Cyclopean Revelation again, but Kvarti and Gupta threw themselves clear. (The same could not be said for scores of infighting dwarves…) To protect her from further attack, her lackey struck at Rumdoom with his gravestone staff. Rumdoom deflected the blow, then crushed the lackey’s head with his hammer.

At once Komanov intoned, “Lackey! How dare you die before my grand victory?” Her fallen minion struggled to his feet. But Komanov herself was forced to her knees, by a beam of light called down from on high by Uriel. Then Quratulain shot her with a magical beam from her lantern blaster, shrinking her down to tiny size. An insult!

Kvarti finally made a shot, and his bullet tore into the frostwyrm. Its turgid flesh tore open and rotten black innards sprayed across the battlefield as it died, creating a choking miasma. Nebo fell into this mess and struggled to stand up again.

Korrigan flew down to challenge the lackey, enabling Rumdoom to break away and dash up the ice wall with Asrabey’s slippers. Once there he hollered at Grandis Komanov in triumph and, without mercy, for she was unable to defend herself, brought his craghammer down upon her shrunken form. She fell back, close to death. The power of the Voice of Rot empowered all those who defended her, and she was surrounded by a foul necrotic cloud. Nebo stood and drew his Morningstar.

“Finish her!” said Korrigan.

Rumdoom rooted in his pack for his Icy End Grenade, but the rest of the unit urged him telepathically, and he opted for simplicity by stepping on her. Though her body was entirely crushed, she began to scream.

At once, a great rift appeared beneath them, causing the ice wall to crumble and fall away. Uriel recognised it as planar in nature: not a physical scar in the earth itself, but a hole in reality leading who-knows-where. Grandis and Nebo – and the massive bodies of the three other, fallen vsadni – were slowly torn to pieces and drawn into it. Komanov’s screams rose above the cacophony and formed her final words: “Devour me, Voice of Rot, and take this world with me!”

The rift widened and intense winds pulled creatures and corpses towards the it.

Uru had hidden himself close to Komanov. As soon as she fell, he grabbed the Cyclopean Revelation in many ghostly hands, and flew away.

Korrigan shouted at the rest of his team to run. They needed no further encouragement.

Fearful of contact with the Stone, Uriel took it up telekinetically and, still in bird form, flew off as best he could. Rumdoom grabbed Heid and dragged him along with him. Korrigan grabbed poor Bhalu – crucifix and all – and bore him away, healing him as he went. The eladrin warrior cried out as his wounds were jostled.

But the intense winds were such that they grabbed those unable to resist their pull and dragged them back towards the rift. Many of Komanov’s army and all of her close coterie were dragged in. If the rift had remained open, it is unlikely that every member of the unit would have escape. But just as things were looking desperate, the planar breach was sealed, closing up as if it had never existed.

End of Session

 

[RangerWickett]

I think of the several groups who've gotten this far, yours had the best scenes with Komanov.

So, how ARE you planning to kill Rumdoom?

 

[gideonpepys]

I think of the several groups who've gotten this far, yours had the best scenes with Komanov.

Maybe it was the personal connection - making Rumdoom's friends part of her cult way back when, and having her steal the Stone of Not. Also, having to shift the venue from Bhad Ryzhavdut to Mirsk shook things up a bit and raised the stakes. I really enjoyed this part of the adventure. After the labyrinthine marathon of Ursalina, this really did feel like a nice, simple, frosty breath of fresh air.

So, how ARE you planning to kill Rumdoom?

DM fiat. Heart attack on the toilet perhaps. Just before the final showdown. "Sorry, but you'll have to stat up a new character."

 

[gideonpepys]

Session 222, Part One - After the Rift

Soon after the rift closed, Tzertze stomped over, clutching the vsadni weapons he had managed to save. “I will fight for you when the time comes, against this ‘Obscurati’. Now I will go back to that tower and claim it.” He turned and strode away, back up the valley. They decided not to stop him. They had refused to bargain for possession of Bhad Ryzhavdut. The problem was now Drakr’s.

Uriel healed Bhalu, with a spell powerful enough to fix his broken bones and mend him entirely, though he lapsed into unconsciousness due to exhaustion and mental strain. Heid and Kvarti offered to ensure he was looked after, but Korrigan said he would be offered a place on board the Coaltongue, having demonstrated his devotion to Rumdoom’s cause. (When he regained consciousness some time later, Bhalu accepted, as Drakr was not the safest place for him to stay.)

The Coaltongue returned from outer space. She had been badly damaged by the blizzard elemental, and once again needed patching up. Alden Wondermaker was summoned and inspected the damage. He determined that the vessel could be fixed on the fly.

Kvarti and Heid made up their differences. Heid said he would travel to Trekhom and spread the news of the unit's involvement in saving Mirsk. Korrigan spoke to the authorities in Mirsk, who said that they were put in a difficult position. They had received orders to arrest any Risuri intruders. They had no intention of doing so (nor did they have the means), and offered to give testimony in support of Vlendham Heid. Korrigan wondered if it was worth going to Trekhom himself, but decided to wait. If Heid thought it was worth it, he would go.

Gupta wondered if the Cyclopean Revelation had survived. Uru confessed that he had it. They wondered what to do with it, and the Stone of Not, which Uriel was still holding with telekinesis. Leon arrived, bringing Morgan Cippiano with him. Leon had important news, but his first job was to analyse these two items. The Cyclopean Revelation, he said, could not be used without drawing power from the Voice of Rot. For now it was useless. They decided to keep it in the ‘Dream Palace’ (the expanded Chamber of Dreams – now with multiple rooms; for comfort, the unit could repair to it as the Coaltongue travelled, freeing space for the crew). But the Stone of Not was more problematic, as it could destroy anything it touched. Now Rumdoom had it, he didn’t know what to do with it, and Leon could provide no further answers. So Uriel conferred with Harkover Lee, who said he would find a safe place to store it.

Leon then shared his findings. He had travelled to all of the planes connected to Lanjyr, save for Av. Av was too far away to reach with his magic. In studying this phenomenon, Asher Henton had spent much energy and effort and had come to the following conclusion: that the Gyre, where Av had gone, was a kind of graveyard for the multiverse. Sooner or later, all of the planes that ended up there would be sucked in and destroyed by the great gear-shaped nebula. If they could find a way to reach Av, or the Gyre itself, they would have more planes to choose from should they attempt to undo the Ob’s ritual.

The Axis Seal Ritual could be found in the Grand Librarium of Alais Primos. They told Morgan Cippiano they would be ready to travel there the following morning and rested up.

 

[gideonpepys]

Session 222, Part Two - Welcome to Alais Primos

NB: Much of this, and several subsequent entries, is taken verbatim from the adventure text.

Cippiano arranged for them to use a teleportation circle that led from an innocuous building onto one of the city’s central plazas. The unit had been here before, but Kai had not, so Korrigan brought him along to see the great capital of the clergy. It was a city best viewed in sunlight, however. In the permanent darkness of the new age, there was something sepulchral about the grandiose architecture.

When they arrived, they witnessed an unusually perfervid town crier declaim the following from a makeshift pulpit:

“Open your eyes, citizens! The gods protect us no longer. Bear witness to their failures, for they are all around you. Behold the theft of our sun. Taste the bitter fruit of wilted vines. Smell the soot of the hells themselves, rising up to claim us!

“Bring these false gods to face the people’s judgment for their crimes, and bring their snake-tongued priests to Plaza Hyperion. A generous bounty awaits champions of the people. The Prime Cardinal has fled justice, but every other bishop and hierophant must be brought forth to face their accusers.

“Even the Arch Secula, hidden away in the library, shall reap what she has sown. Though she claims distance from the governance of our religion, her hands reek of the same filth as the hierarchs. The greatest bounty of all shall go to those who bring her in.

“And if you cannot hunt the gods, fear not! You can still levy judgment. At the twelfth hour, join our march to the crown of Enzyo Mons, where all present can help decide the fate of the prophets who lied to us. Testify to their crimes, and we shall cast their evil forms into the maw of the mountain!”

Korrigan had already communicated with Ken Don. He had returned to the quiet life of a librifer, but confirmed that Arch Secula Degaspare had sought sanctuary in the Jenevah Grand Librarium since the chaos of the god trials had begun.

Cippiano advised that they meet with the heads of his Family before they tried to negotiate their own way through the complexities of Alais Primos. He took them to a restaurant, the Lamplano Pescatario. The three-story stone restaurant had a wide lawn on three sides and a canal on the fourth. Guards patrolled the grounds, several of them divine spellcasters. Warm lanterns sought to maintain a pleasing ambience, but the mood was oppressive nonetheless. Eyes watched the nearby cemetery for disturbed graves. Approaching strangers were ordered to stop so a priest could detect any evil forces. They passed this checkpoint (Uru was hidden) and went inside.

A half-dozen heads of different Family households worked out of the restaurant, but they deferred to Donna Aneenya. A burly woman in her sixties, the Donna wore her white wedding dress and had adorned herself with silver chains and pendants devoted to various gods. Foremost among them was a malachite violin, holy symbol of the god of musicians (“My late husband played the violin at our wedding”).

Cippiano introduced the King Of Risur to the gathered Dons, stressing how long they had known each other, and how many favours they had done for one another. He added a few impressive tales of the mighty foes the unit had defeated, when one wiry old Don, Don Stoyan, muttered that these tales sounded as preposterous as stories about Triegenes pulling the sea a thousand miles inland so his navy could attack a demon’s tower. Donna Aneenya shushed him, and she pointed out that her grandson could teleport now; “it’s a damned hassle since he’d only just started toddling before the great eclipse. Now he keeps bursting into the kitchen and bothering me when I’ms cooking. If a wee bambino can do that, I’ll believe whatever Morgan says of the King of Risur.”