Andrew Moreton
Adventurer
That settles it unless I forget before I get this far , they are not halfings but sentient anphopormorthic Meerkats. Simples! There will be a way of comparing them somewhere as well
ZEITGEIST [ZEITGEIST] The Continuing Adventures of Korrigan & Co.
- Thread starter gideonpepys
- Start date
SanjMerchant
Explorer
I guess my question is, does the scene go on long enough for the players to actually pick up on it in a live-and-in-person setting. If, for example, you only end up saying his name once, it doesn't read.
RangerWickett
Legend
SanjMerchant
Explorer
@RangerWickett , now you've got me rereading that name trying to see if it's a pun that I've been missing this whole time.
RangerWickett
Legend
No, it's just fun to say.
Over.
And over.
Again.
Over.
And over.
Again.
gideonpepys
Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain.
I feel like this thread has turned into an existential version of that joke. Let’s put it this way: the scene went on long enough, and so has this line of questioning. 
gideonpepys
Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain.
And, yes, it was.
gideonpepys
Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain.
Session 238, Part Three
The Fermented Peaks
And so to Dunkelweiss, where the rivers flowed with beer. Here on Dunkelweiss (and therefore on any world to which it was linked) alcohol was good for you. It produced the same intoxicating effect as usual, but did no damage to long-term health. Indeed, hangovers were easily held at bay with a brisk workout, meaning the heaviest drinkers would tend to be the most fit. A night of intense carousing could even remove terrible afflictions.
The dwarven all-king known as Ron the Grand ruled his people nobly for a century. Upon his death, the dwarves did not merely craft him a tomb, but petitioned their gods to create a demiplane that would encapsulate all that made Ron so damned Grand. Alas, the high priests got too drunk celebrating after the funeral, and they accidentally left the key that opened a portal to the world inside the world itself. King Ron was at peace, and his planar tomb drifted through the cosmos, like a burial at sea. Centuries ago Dunkelweiss, a thirty-mile mountain range of soaring snow-capped peaks, majestic forests, and brisk mountain lakes, crashed into the Gyre. Such was the dwarven craftsmanship that it was barely jostled by the impact, and the borders of the world are quite sturdy. Celestial goats frolic on its grassy hills, and bearded eagles soar over the mausoleum, keeping watch of the king’s rest.
But woe now gripped those eagles, and each day they shed a single tear, for they failed at their duty. Decades ago, pirates from Hunlow had snuck onto Dunkelweiss and plundered the tomb, carrying away King Ron’s two radiant axes.
All of this was related to them by one of the eagles, who invited them to drink from the rivers, but warned them to stay away from the tomb. “No one will be allowed there except to return what was stolen.” When it turned out that they already had the axes, the eagle was overjoyed.
Even on Dunkelweiss, Rumdoom had refused to join them, so they had to send back to the Coaltongue and politely entreat him to come. He arrived with his retinue and went into the tomb of King Ron alone. When he returned, without the axes, he said “We should choose this plane for our world.” Then he went back to the ship.
Uru suggested shore leave for the crew of the Coaltongue. Korrigan agreed and they spent the rest of the day here.
During the carousal, Uriel asked the eagles about the key to their home plane – if they knew where it was. Their response was guarded. Uriel suggested that if they were to link this plane to their own – rescuing it from certain doom – then the ability to travel here easily would be valuable.
The eagles said, “If such is within your power, then do so, and we will discuss the matter of the key at that time. A one-off trip to retrieve the key must certainly be possible, if you are able to realign whole planes. …”
While the crew enjoyed themselves, Korrigan decided to deal with a matter he never seemed to have time for. Together with Leon, he entered the Dream Palace and visited the bedchamber where they had laid Linia to rest ever since she had been freed from the Vault of Heresies. Korrigan used every ounce of his power to heal her of the maladies that afflicted her, hoping that her mind would become whole as a result.
After the ritual, Linia remained unconscious, though she was no longer deep in a coma, as she had been before. Korrigan was loath to leave her to wake up alone and suggested that they transport her to the Coaltongue, but Leon told him this was impossible: Just as they could not travel from the Dream Palace to Lanjyr, so Linia could not travel to the Gyre, having not travelled there with them. They would take it in turns to visit her, it was decided.
Perhaps, when she awakened, they could ask her to relay a message back home for them?
The Fermented Peaks
And so to Dunkelweiss, where the rivers flowed with beer. Here on Dunkelweiss (and therefore on any world to which it was linked) alcohol was good for you. It produced the same intoxicating effect as usual, but did no damage to long-term health. Indeed, hangovers were easily held at bay with a brisk workout, meaning the heaviest drinkers would tend to be the most fit. A night of intense carousing could even remove terrible afflictions.
The dwarven all-king known as Ron the Grand ruled his people nobly for a century. Upon his death, the dwarves did not merely craft him a tomb, but petitioned their gods to create a demiplane that would encapsulate all that made Ron so damned Grand. Alas, the high priests got too drunk celebrating after the funeral, and they accidentally left the key that opened a portal to the world inside the world itself. King Ron was at peace, and his planar tomb drifted through the cosmos, like a burial at sea. Centuries ago Dunkelweiss, a thirty-mile mountain range of soaring snow-capped peaks, majestic forests, and brisk mountain lakes, crashed into the Gyre. Such was the dwarven craftsmanship that it was barely jostled by the impact, and the borders of the world are quite sturdy. Celestial goats frolic on its grassy hills, and bearded eagles soar over the mausoleum, keeping watch of the king’s rest.
But woe now gripped those eagles, and each day they shed a single tear, for they failed at their duty. Decades ago, pirates from Hunlow had snuck onto Dunkelweiss and plundered the tomb, carrying away King Ron’s two radiant axes.
All of this was related to them by one of the eagles, who invited them to drink from the rivers, but warned them to stay away from the tomb. “No one will be allowed there except to return what was stolen.” When it turned out that they already had the axes, the eagle was overjoyed.
Even on Dunkelweiss, Rumdoom had refused to join them, so they had to send back to the Coaltongue and politely entreat him to come. He arrived with his retinue and went into the tomb of King Ron alone. When he returned, without the axes, he said “We should choose this plane for our world.” Then he went back to the ship.
Uru suggested shore leave for the crew of the Coaltongue. Korrigan agreed and they spent the rest of the day here.
During the carousal, Uriel asked the eagles about the key to their home plane – if they knew where it was. Their response was guarded. Uriel suggested that if they were to link this plane to their own – rescuing it from certain doom – then the ability to travel here easily would be valuable.
The eagles said, “If such is within your power, then do so, and we will discuss the matter of the key at that time. A one-off trip to retrieve the key must certainly be possible, if you are able to realign whole planes. …”
While the crew enjoyed themselves, Korrigan decided to deal with a matter he never seemed to have time for. Together with Leon, he entered the Dream Palace and visited the bedchamber where they had laid Linia to rest ever since she had been freed from the Vault of Heresies. Korrigan used every ounce of his power to heal her of the maladies that afflicted her, hoping that her mind would become whole as a result.
After the ritual, Linia remained unconscious, though she was no longer deep in a coma, as she had been before. Korrigan was loath to leave her to wake up alone and suggested that they transport her to the Coaltongue, but Leon told him this was impossible: Just as they could not travel from the Dream Palace to Lanjyr, so Linia could not travel to the Gyre, having not travelled there with them. They would take it in turns to visit her, it was decided.
Perhaps, when she awakened, they could ask her to relay a message back home for them?
gideonpepys
Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain.
Session 238, Part Four
Party Boat
It was now time to cross the vast empty space between the southern and northern half of the Gyre. Gupta was gratified to hear that their first port of call would be Ascetia. She had waited a long time since the sweeping beam of the lighthouse caught her eye and inspired a fascination that she could not fully explain. While they traversed the empty void, she stood at the prow, slightly nervous with anticipation. As well as the regular sweep of the lighthouse, another source of light attracted her attention: smaller, irregular pulses in the darkness to the north-west. When they persisted, she dutifully reported the occurrence, despite knowing that doing so would cause them to divert from Ascetia.
What they saw though a spyglass (and confirmed with Korrigan’s clairvoyant eye) was a Golden Legion warship, very much like – no, identical to – the Aurum Treasure, moving at a sedate pace across the void, busy with activity (indistinct at this distance) and emitting prismatic beams in all directions.
They pointed the Coaltongue at the newcomer, but jumped ahead to take the crew by surprise. (If they couldn’t handle what they found there without back-up, they would jump back to the Coaltongue and engage them ship-to-ship.)
When they arrived, battle-ready, they were overwhelmed by pulsating noise. But instead of finding themselves in the midst of demonic legionnaires, they were surrounded by frolicking fey, who – though surprised by their arrival – were used to such strangeness and soon welcomed them aboard and enjoined them to dance along to the beat – a beat provided by the repurposed alarm system they had been subjected to on Av. The lights were faeries fire glancing off a round, golden globe suspended from a high vantage. It had been worked to provide multiple facets from which the faerie fires could dance.
This was indeed the Aurum Treasure, and these were refugees from Av, rescued by none other than Rock Rackus who now stood at the helm. He saluted them and beckoned them over. Shouting over the din of the music, they asked why he hadn’t responded to Korrigan’s telepathic messages. Rock lifted his skullcap and showed them a tin-foil lining inside: “You guys put me on to the works of the Grumbler, don’t you remember? The tin-foil hat was his idea. Stops all kinds of mind-control naughty word in its tracks!” He told them he had salvaged the ship and renamed it the Aural Pleasure. They misunderstood and laughed heartily. “You guys have dirty minds. I mean aural – for the ears!”
All of their fey friends were here: Sly Marbo, Rambylon, even Mista Knyves, whom Uru had been so fond of. He was overjoyed to see the cantankerous ettercap and greeted him enthusiastically.
Rock told them he was headed to Egalitrix to rescue Thisraldion. This presented them with a quandary. They figured out his current trajectory and realised it would bring him to Elofasp, home of the terrifying supplicants and ravants! They couldn’t allow him to press on alone, but they didn’t want to have him tag along with them either. He lacked subtlety and was a terrible glory-hog. At first they suggested that he back-track and wait for them: “We have business on Ascetia, but after that we can move on Egalitrix together. Why don’t you head back that way towards Dunkelweiss. It’s a plane where beer is good for you.”
“We’ve already been there!” shouted Rock. “Stayed there for days!”
It was no good; they would have to come along. It wouldn’t be long before they struck at Egalitrix now anyway, and they would need all the help they could get.
While this was being arranged, Uru was made aware of some tensions aboard the ship – the enmity between Rambylon and Mista Knyves persisted. Rambylon sidled up alongside Uru and told him he had seen Mista Knyves captured by the Golden Legion as they rampaged through Clover. “That’s not the real Mista Knyves, it can’t be!” he said.
There was a simple way to resolves this: Uru asked Korrigan to train the power of the Humble Hook on his ettercap friends and establish his real name. Korrigan obliged, without alerting the target, and told Uru that ‘Mista Knyves’ was in fact Copperhat the Headless! Leon squinted at him. His truesight did not penetrate the disguise, so it was no illusion. “Must be a polymorph spell,” he said.
Uru glowered and stalked away. Korrigan watched him as he sidled up to the ettercap, whispered something in his ear and then cut his throat!
The partying fey gasped and formed a wide, wary circle.
Wind whistled out of the slit throat. As the life drained from Copperhat’s polymorphed eyes, he was able to utter, in a mysterious, sibilant, sing-song whisper: “They’re he-ere!”
Baffled, Uru almost wished he’d kept him alive long enough to ask him some questions, until Uriel stepped up and proved that such caution was unnecessary: he summoned Copperhat’s spirit, firstly to prove that he was really, finally dead, and then to quiz the angry little creature.
“What did you mean by that?” he demanded.
Compelled to answer, Copperhat said: “Look behind you.”
They did so and at first could see nothing. Then they noticed a blackness against the blackness – two different shades of black, one looming out of the other – a vast shape, growing gradually lighter and more distinct, until they realised that what they were looking at was a gaping mouth of immense proportions, dwarfing both of their ships. In seconds it engulfed them and as it began to close, they recognised it as an undead whale, grown to an impossible size.
Weary Enid’s leviathan had swallowed them whole!
End of Session
Party Boat
It was now time to cross the vast empty space between the southern and northern half of the Gyre. Gupta was gratified to hear that their first port of call would be Ascetia. She had waited a long time since the sweeping beam of the lighthouse caught her eye and inspired a fascination that she could not fully explain. While they traversed the empty void, she stood at the prow, slightly nervous with anticipation. As well as the regular sweep of the lighthouse, another source of light attracted her attention: smaller, irregular pulses in the darkness to the north-west. When they persisted, she dutifully reported the occurrence, despite knowing that doing so would cause them to divert from Ascetia.
What they saw though a spyglass (and confirmed with Korrigan’s clairvoyant eye) was a Golden Legion warship, very much like – no, identical to – the Aurum Treasure, moving at a sedate pace across the void, busy with activity (indistinct at this distance) and emitting prismatic beams in all directions.
They pointed the Coaltongue at the newcomer, but jumped ahead to take the crew by surprise. (If they couldn’t handle what they found there without back-up, they would jump back to the Coaltongue and engage them ship-to-ship.)
When they arrived, battle-ready, they were overwhelmed by pulsating noise. But instead of finding themselves in the midst of demonic legionnaires, they were surrounded by frolicking fey, who – though surprised by their arrival – were used to such strangeness and soon welcomed them aboard and enjoined them to dance along to the beat – a beat provided by the repurposed alarm system they had been subjected to on Av. The lights were faeries fire glancing off a round, golden globe suspended from a high vantage. It had been worked to provide multiple facets from which the faerie fires could dance.
This was indeed the Aurum Treasure, and these were refugees from Av, rescued by none other than Rock Rackus who now stood at the helm. He saluted them and beckoned them over. Shouting over the din of the music, they asked why he hadn’t responded to Korrigan’s telepathic messages. Rock lifted his skullcap and showed them a tin-foil lining inside: “You guys put me on to the works of the Grumbler, don’t you remember? The tin-foil hat was his idea. Stops all kinds of mind-control naughty word in its tracks!” He told them he had salvaged the ship and renamed it the Aural Pleasure. They misunderstood and laughed heartily. “You guys have dirty minds. I mean aural – for the ears!”
All of their fey friends were here: Sly Marbo, Rambylon, even Mista Knyves, whom Uru had been so fond of. He was overjoyed to see the cantankerous ettercap and greeted him enthusiastically.
Rock told them he was headed to Egalitrix to rescue Thisraldion. This presented them with a quandary. They figured out his current trajectory and realised it would bring him to Elofasp, home of the terrifying supplicants and ravants! They couldn’t allow him to press on alone, but they didn’t want to have him tag along with them either. He lacked subtlety and was a terrible glory-hog. At first they suggested that he back-track and wait for them: “We have business on Ascetia, but after that we can move on Egalitrix together. Why don’t you head back that way towards Dunkelweiss. It’s a plane where beer is good for you.”
“We’ve already been there!” shouted Rock. “Stayed there for days!”
It was no good; they would have to come along. It wouldn’t be long before they struck at Egalitrix now anyway, and they would need all the help they could get.
While this was being arranged, Uru was made aware of some tensions aboard the ship – the enmity between Rambylon and Mista Knyves persisted. Rambylon sidled up alongside Uru and told him he had seen Mista Knyves captured by the Golden Legion as they rampaged through Clover. “That’s not the real Mista Knyves, it can’t be!” he said.
There was a simple way to resolves this: Uru asked Korrigan to train the power of the Humble Hook on his ettercap friends and establish his real name. Korrigan obliged, without alerting the target, and told Uru that ‘Mista Knyves’ was in fact Copperhat the Headless! Leon squinted at him. His truesight did not penetrate the disguise, so it was no illusion. “Must be a polymorph spell,” he said.
Uru glowered and stalked away. Korrigan watched him as he sidled up to the ettercap, whispered something in his ear and then cut his throat!
The partying fey gasped and formed a wide, wary circle.
Wind whistled out of the slit throat. As the life drained from Copperhat’s polymorphed eyes, he was able to utter, in a mysterious, sibilant, sing-song whisper: “They’re he-ere!”
Baffled, Uru almost wished he’d kept him alive long enough to ask him some questions, until Uriel stepped up and proved that such caution was unnecessary: he summoned Copperhat’s spirit, firstly to prove that he was really, finally dead, and then to quiz the angry little creature.
“What did you mean by that?” he demanded.
Compelled to answer, Copperhat said: “Look behind you.”
They did so and at first could see nothing. Then they noticed a blackness against the blackness – two different shades of black, one looming out of the other – a vast shape, growing gradually lighter and more distinct, until they realised that what they were looking at was a gaping mouth of immense proportions, dwarfing both of their ships. In seconds it engulfed them and as it began to close, they recognised it as an undead whale, grown to an impossible size.
Weary Enid’s leviathan had swallowed them whole!
End of Session
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