From here … http://www.dragonlanceforums.com/showthread.php?24138-Wrath-of-the-Righteous-Maps-No-Posting-Please&p=552329#post552329 … I traced out the route that the Torch Bearers took through the city, with green representing the first day and cyan representing the second day. I didn’t include Bliks’ solo trip through the underground.
Bliks knew the space was too small for her to use her hardest hitting spells, but instead reached out to end the conflict quickly. Greater Possession pressed her mind against Areelu’s and for a moment time seemed to freeze, their wills striving for dominance. She felt the mental walls crumble only to find herself slipping past her target and snapping back to her own vision, her spell resisted.
Then the air seemed to be squeezed out of her chest. Her ribs cried out and she saw her companions similarly convulsing in pain. Radiance dimmed as it tumbled out of Irabeth’s hands, clattering to the stone followed shortly by the sharp crack of the paladin’s armour clad knees as she clutched at her throat.
The retort of Hex’s revolvers ended the pain as they tore through Areelu’s wings, bringing her down on the dais just in front of the cage. Irabeth remained curled on the ground. With a snap of finely manicured fingers the air before the demon rippled and screeched open. From this maw stepped a great pig faced giant, ridiculously small wings sprouting from its back countered by a roar and heavily muscled limbs ending in stubby fingers and toes. A Nalfeshnee, one of the guardians of the Abyss itself.
With a cry, Eryno dashed forward, cutting into the great monster’s flank, ichor staining the floor. A sickly glow spread across the creature’s body as it clumsily swung at the warrior it dwarfed.
Again Bliks felt the air around her change, but this time instead of crushing her lungs, it felt like great webs were trying to hold her limbs in place. She knew this to be a deception, that Hold spells played with the mind, and she threw off its influence much to the screams of frustration from Areelu.
The Nalfeshnee snorted as its eyes flashed for a moment and Bliks could see Eryno clearly fighting against some new force in the air. Still with a sharp stroke he brought his blade up and caught the giant’s wrist, its hand landing beside Irabeth’s inert form.
A ray arced between Areelu and Hex and he began firing wild, sending ‘Blinded’ Seeing the battle beginning to turn, Bliks brought her wrists together, her cupped fingers firing sphere after sphere of fire that engulfed both demons. Then the glow on the Nalfeshnee’s skin bloomed across the room, almost blinding her as well but leaving her stomach churning as her vision distorted.
Shaking her head clear, Bliks saw Areelu and the Nalfeshnee barely singed by her Meteor Swarm. Grinding her teeth she drew a deep breath, letting it out in a blast of sound, sending the Nalfeshnee reeling while Areelu covered her ears, her own scream lost in Bliks’ thundering Greater Shout. Over the link she heard ‘Up up. Stop. Right. Stop,’ as Eryno sent the blinded Hex directions on where to continue his fusillade.
Those bullets impacted the Nalfeshnee as it steadied itself, throwing its focus off as it tried to bring another of its spells to bear on Bliks. “You have earned my wrath, mortals!” Areelu screamed, brandishing a fist sized gem at Eryno.
In a eyeblink Eryno was gone. His equipment collapsed in on themselves.
Her eyes widening, Bliks stepped back, leaving Hex in the fore as he continued to fire blindly into the bulk of the giant demon. She stammered, fumbling with her components, and then felt the wall behind her stop her unconscious retreat. Then she saw Areelu bringing together a powerful spell and tried to throw up a shield to protect herself and Hex.
But he was in front of the Wall of Suppression. His skin sucked around his bones as his muscles lost mass. Parched lips tried to speak, but with a tongue a solid mass, nothing but a wheeze came out. Jerkily he continued to reflexively pull the trigger on his revolver, empty clicking replacing its usual roar, the reloads in the other hand scattering at his feet. Then the Nalfeshnee reached out a meaty paw of a hand and lightning arced from the ceiling through Hex’s body.
The corpse of the Black Sovereign crumpled in a smoking pile of scorched, dehydrated flesh and bones.
Crisscrossing her legs as she walked, Areelu sashayed through the intangible wall Bliks had thrown up. With a seductive smile, she reached out and held a hand over the wizard’s mouth. Regaining her senses, Bliks pawed at the muzzling hand but floundered against the succubus’ grip.
“Don’t worry, I’ve done this dozens of times before,” Areelu soothed before she snapped Bliks’ neck.
The struggling hands lost their life and fell to numb sides. Areelu leaned in, kissing the tears rolling down Bliks’ cheeks.
“Your friends, they were the true threat. You? Too full of doubt. Too distracted by the future. You could have prepared for this fight properly, but you didn’t. Deep down, you really didn’t want to. Don’t worry love, once I learn your secrets, you’ll come to my embrace on your own.”
Effortlessly Areelu carried Bliks by the neck to where Eryno’s gear was piled. Her tail snaked through the jumble, pulling out the Rod of Cancellation, its green gem still glinting atop its silver length. “You were going to destroy the wardstone? Clever wizard! I knew you’d at least try to steal it back, but destroy it? How positively refreshing to see someone embrace the path of the Abyss.”
“And what a waste it would have been. I have spent years searching for just the right Nahyndrian crystal. That brute Khorramzadeh thought the sliver I gave him could destroy it. So many forget the Abyss isn’t about simple annihilation, that’s the point of the Void. Oh no, it is about all kinds of destruction, including the destruction of rebirth. All those arrogant Crusaders? They’re about to start a new campaign, this time in Deskari’s service.”
“This is why I spared you … who else could appreciate my work?”
‘Technician Volegling, this is-‘
‘Broken Arrow, immediate suppression, danger close, authorization Salometa, out.’
The twin engines of the Myrmidons blazed as they shot ahead of the lumbering Annihilator as it too lifted into the sky on a plume of white fire. Rockets breached the air, detonating on the stone tower.
Dropping Bliks’ limp body, Areelu spat as the room shook around her. Broken masonry showered down on them. “Damned Ulkreth, there is little left in this city to smash, this is my hour!”
A Vrock Teleported beside one of the robots, a screeching vulture with human arms, only to be deftly sidestepped. Another volley of rockets again smashed the tower.
The Nalfeshnee shouted something, throwing itself over the succubus as a massive chunk of ceiling crashed on its back.
The other robot fell, caught in the grip of a four armed Vrolikai, frantic demonic stabs met with quantum lashes. Behind them, the ponderous Annihilator cleared its path with the relentless growl of its chain guns. The demonic screams were joined by an ever increasing hum.
For a moment the Annihilator and the Grey Garrison’s tower were linked by an iridescent light.
Then the weakened roof and the walls of the tower crumbled and blew away like ash.
From where Bliks’s head lolled she could see the hulking body of the Nalfeshnee still shielding Areelu. Under that tangle a silver rod topped with a green gem rolled free, coming to rest between the wizard and the wardstone’s cage.
A gentle breeze stirred the debris in the room. At its centre lay the immobile body of Bliksemani Volgeling, her eyes focused intensely on the Rod of Cancellation. The breeze stiffened, howling into a gale, into the indescribable roar of a tornado. Shards of rock tore at the flesh of the demons and lightning crackled between the blinding winds and the remains of the tower.
The rod rattled under this force, then lifted like a spear being hefted by unseen hands. With wild eyes, Areelu reached past her summoned demon, cloth and skin ripping as she strained forward, her screams lost to the storm.
Then in a sudden rush the winds threw the rod forward into Kenabres’ wardstone.
Light.
Brilliant and soothing.
A voice, then a duet, then a choir, singing a timeless hymn.
The air filled with golden razors, billowing out against the storm, each seemingly moving slowly until Bliks saw pebbles lazily falling all about her, barely touched by gravity’s pull. She felt energy piercing through her face in a glorious rush, saw it slashing through her clothes, riddling her body with glowing scars. Then the wounds sowed themselves shut, leaving behind no trace of their passage, and she could feel her legs again.
She stood, seeing the remains of the wardstone continue their outwards path. Each was a tiny comet of holy light, streaking out from the now ruined cage. Areelu was pinned by the Nalfeshnee, their bodies now tied together by long, brilliant nails. As Bliks watched the two seemed less and less separate, until there was a seamless whole. The body was then limbed in an arcing black and red fire, and was gone.
“My most humble apology that that hadst to befall thee. Thither wast nay other way.” The voice was powerful. Booming. Everywhere. The dialect was an ancient form of Taldane.
“Our interference hath dire consequences. But knoweth yond thee doth not travel high-lone, for we art with thee.”
Within the blaze of light that had been the wardstone, Bliks could see figures coming into focus. Most prominent was a scarred woman clad in polished plate. To her left was a powerfully built dwarf leaning on a massive warhammer. To her right was a bronze angel, her hair a flowing flame. Others crowded in until all she saw was a great host, stretching back into infinity.
“Thy companions wilt not share thy burden, they shall see only light and life.”
The voice was coming from the scarred woman, Bliks was sure of that now. Iomedae, Aroden’s herald, The Inheritor. Goddess of righteous valour.
“But if it be true that thou can carryeth it, the reward shall beest most wondrous.”
Rays of light splayed across the room, first focusing on Irabeth’s suffocated form, then on Hex’s desicated body, and finally on the gem that trapped Eryno’s soul. Each began to glow and heal and finally stand as if untouched by the combat that had just finished. Their chests puffed, their backs straight, Bliks saw in them a new resolve, their eyes filled with understanding. Yet they stood as still and solid as statues.
“Knoweth yond thee hast did save many from a horrible fate. And while thy descent into darkness shall beest long, thither shall beest redemption.”
“Finally doth not taketh the paths hath given, but findeth thy own. While your enemies are many, your allies are greater. Farewell!”
Only then did the broken stones and dust of the tower fall, the world no longer paused.
“Are you guys alright?” she said tentatively testing the silence.
Hex quickly inspected his body, shrugged and nodded. “What a rush!” Eryno exclaimed, drawing their attention. “Where’d those demons go? Did we win?”
“I’m not sure and yes, we won. The wardstone has been destroyed.”
“Attend friends,” Irabeth interrupted, “to the north.”
On the horizon a memory seemed to replay. For a moment Bliks was back there, standing on the highest peak of Silvermount, somewhere above the Divinity’s Primary Engineering deck. Again she saw a golden spike drive down from the heavens, but then she saw another, and yet another. She swung around and saw the same to the south. All along the border holy light was breaking through the darkness and corruption.
“By the Whisperer …” Bliks gasped.
“What’s going on?” Eryno asked.
“The wardstones.” Hex said. “All of them.”
This time when the darkness recoiled, it did not return. A wave of blistering gold rolled towards Kenabres from north and south, and where they could spot the silhouettes of demons, the fiends were caught up in it and torn asunder. Bliks features twitched and her hung mouth agape, while the wave stormed up the terraces of the city, converging on the Gray Garrison.
Its power was grand and terrible, molten silver and gold reaching out. Bliks looked to where the wardstone had exploded expecting the streams to meet there, wishing to see this grand act of pure creation.
Then she looked down and found herself skewered by them.
Every muscle clenched, her fingers splaying open, her artificial hair stretching in all directions, as she lifted off the ground. Painlessly it burnt through her. Silently she cried out. Looking down, her skin was not her own, as her tattoo like markings darkened into sharp contrast against her blinding flesh. And all around her, her breeze was a river of stars.
Then her mind was elsewhere. Mists and clouds of the purest pearl. The air was clean and clear, and she took it in deeply, and even though she knew her body was still floating above the ruined tower of the Gray Garrison, it was a refreshing breath. The beat of wings made her turn.
Beside her stood a figure that was hauntingly familiar but unlike any she had ever met. The woman had great multicoloured wings like those of a tropical bird sprouting from her back, but skin like molten rock. A crown of flowing black hair trailed down her back over finely woven silver armour festooned with blue butterflies. Even from behind, Bliks could see that her physique was finely toned with powerful muscles alongside alluring curves. The figure started, turning. Impossibly Bliks felt her throat constrict.
Two kind brown eyes glittered under long black bangs. Her cheeks each sported the glittering outline of a blue butterfly wing.
“Dreams in the Dark?”
The beauty smiled, “Yes, my Little Breeze.”
“I’m not really here, am I?”
“No. Nor am I. This,” Dreams gestured to herself with a curtsey, “is not my body as it is, but as I wish it could be. Desna has blessed me, letting me see again and again the possibility of redemption. But you. You’ve grown.” She shook her head, smiling, “not this dream self, I know you as you are. Your body is a wonder, you dance so well. Until now, I wasn’t sure it was truly you.”
“That … was you? Last night? You wrote that note?”
“Yes.”
“Your note implied you were trapped in the Worldwound … it’s been years, Dreams, why …”
“… can’t I leave? This is the body I wish I had, but not the body I have. My soul …” she began to weep, “… my body reflects my soul, and my soul is not pure enough.” As the tears slid down her face a pair of horns grew from her forehead. The lava that was her skin hardened into alabaster as the feathers fell from her wings, revealing the crimson leather of bat wings. Her hair fell out in clumps until it was the short almost military cut that Bliks remembered from years ago. And what started as bloodshot eyes from tears spread until the orbs became a solid red.
Bliks paused for a moment to take in Dreams’ new form, then took the weeping succubus into her arms. When their foreheads touched, she could feel the horns press into her skin. A strength rose in Bliks. A clear sense of purpose. Of direction. It flowed between the women, and Bliks could feel the horns melt as Dreams’ skin became molten once again.
“Yes,” Dreams breathed, “of course. Hope. Hope freed me from Vhane’s prison. As I am in you, you are in me. Thank you. Thank you for everything.”
In a blink the mist was gone, replaced by the cool open air of Kenabres. There she floated, her skin still glowing like a torch, when the cheers from the city rose. The demons were gone. Blasted in a moment of holy energy.
But one demon could not leave Bliks. To the north. There. There was a demon that wished to be an angel.
“You mean murdered.”
“She begged me. There were demons everywhere, flaying or desecrating the living bodies of her neighbours. Better at my hands than theirs.”
“Didn’t want another demon to have her soul?”
“Clever wizard! Alright, better to kill her myself than give anyone leverage.”
“I’m sure it was quick, painless.”
“Come now, even you don’t believe that. Vial after vial of bottled Agony. Sometimes they come to me in dreams, those rending screams; I haven’t found anything quite like it. And I’ve looked for a long time.”
Bliks dug her fingers into the stone of the tower, her eyes watering as she stared into the setting of the Worldwound bloated sun. It was the same feminine voice from before, from Irabeth’s house, nestling in beside her ear like a reclining lover. The thought made her retch.
Still she stood away from her travelling companions, mindful not to let any Scrying see more than just her, and far enough that their exchanged whispers were not overheard. The sagging of her mood lingered on, keeping her from summoning the winds that kept her company, that held her aloft.
“Areelu Vorlesh.”
“Please, call me Areelu. Bliks is it?”
“Bliksemani Volgeling, witch.”
“Don’t they call you that too? The Androffan Witch of Numeria? Besides I’m far more than just a witch now.”
“What do you want?”
“To talk my dear! It’s refreshing to talk to an esteemed colleague.”
“You tried to Dominate me.” Bliks gritted her teeth at the memory.
“And you resisted, so no harm done! How could I truly know I was in such company without an incy, wincy, little test? But you didn’t pass on your own, did you? That Shadow Demon was right, wasn’t it?”
“My mind, my soul is my own.”
“Surely you jest!”
“I am not in the habit of trading gibes with the likes of you.”
“Such hostility! But I suppose it’s understandable, as I succeeded where you failed.”
“What?!”
“I defeated my enemies. Destroyed them. Them and the nation that birthed them. Ground it into a gruel and fed it to Lord Deskari’s horde. Sadly, too few knew it was me.” The voice seemed to pout.
“You haven’t defeated the Crusade.”
“The Crusade? They oppose me, but I have no enmity towards them. Oh no, my enemies died with Sarkoris. You, all arcane spellcasters come to think of it, should thank me.”
“Thank you … thank you? You’re a monster who allies herself with demons!”
“Come now, be reasonable! How long did that prison, Threshold, stand? Where was Cayden Cailean? Arshea? Taraksun? Even Desna? Gods all, and yet none raised a finger at our imprisonment. Only Lord Deskari heard my pleas for freedom. Only he had the strength to break my bonds. And for what was I imprisoned? Not magic alone, as those snide druids would flaunt their powers to awe those Kellid simpletons, but arcane magic, magic they couldn’t use, didn’t trust, but wanted to yoke like any beast of the field.”
“You say I have not defeated my enemies, but the Technic League has been crushed, the tribes that opposed us in the Sovereignty Succession have been driven back, and I didn’t need to destroy Numeria to do it!”
“I suppose you think I should have focused on the Acolytes of the Green Faith? A weed does not die if you cut off its bloom. Tear the root from the ground. Scour the earth. That is why I rest easy at night when you toss and turn. Mark my words, the Kelllids will turn on you, abandon your reforms, smash your slaves. They are an obstinate people whose base nature sullies everything they touch.”
“Is this the fate you wished to have? For your name to be cursed, for the blood of millions on your hands?”
“Better to be cursed and remembered then thanked and forgotten. When you drove your mechanical Androffan slaves along the Dagger and Seven Tears rivers, wiping out encampment after encampment of Blood Gars, did you not create fanatics who still curse your name? When word got back to Starfall, were not the whispers behind your back now tinged with respect born of your power?”
“They are not my slaves Areelu! The League may have treated them as such, but under our rule, they are free.”
The voice chuckled, “thank you for being so familiar, Bliks.”
Beneath newly formed threatening clouds a light bloomed. The signal. Somewhere in the Gate District Marilictor Volso was discarding the now useless flare gun and locking his horrific helm in place. Seconds later a rising shout announced the start of the assault. Bliks grinned and waved to the air, casting Mind Blank, cutting Areelu’ Scrying off.
Eryno, still pointing to the drifting red flare, turned towards the hatch that would lead them down the tower and out into Old Kenabres when Hex caught his shoulder. “Wait.” Looking first to his Sovereign’s hand and then face, Eryno wrinkled his brow then looked down.
“But Hex, the longer we wait, the more will die. Wasn’t surprise the plan?”
“My Crusaders will do their duty, even if it means death friend. The plan was to clear a path to the Gray Garrison. So they must be drawn out and there’s nothing better to draw out the demons than moral deaths,” Irabeth explained. “If you wish, you can join me in prayer, for those who have fallen and those who will.”
Bliks walked to the others, returning Hex’s nod. About her companions she set the components she would need, marked out the space with a wide circle of runes, focusing her thoughts on the spells she had prepared hours earlier, drawing them out so only a word would finish their incantation. All the while Irabeth and Eryno knelt, hands clasped over the hilt of Radiance, its golden blade shimmering in the failing light of day.
“I will have faith in the Inheritor. I will channel her strength through my body.”
“I will shine in her legion. I am the first into battle, and the last to leave it.”
“I will never abandon a companion, though I will honor sacrifice freely given.
“I will not be taken prisoner by my free will. I will suffer death before dishonor.”
Hex slipped on a pair of Green keyed VeeMod Goggles his back to the two praying warriors. From their tower they had a clear line of sight to what remained of Clydwell plaza and the Gray Garrison on its western edge. A great rift had consumed not just the Cathedral but also many of the buildings bordering the plaza and those that it had not, demons had torn to pieces. Little was intact in Old Kenabres.
The Gray Garrison itself was a small building that could have been mistaken for a manor house in any other setting. It also had the look of a church with an offset nave poking through the roof, all stone construction and not a window in sight. Even the roof was stone, mostly flat but where the third floor rose, peaked across its length. No demons were visible.
And so they waited.
The injured sun dipped below the horizon and the brightest lights in the sky started to appear. Bliks hesitated in calling these points of lights stars, as she did not recognize the shifting constellations and smears. The stagnant air reminded her more of being inside than standing on the tallest remaining tower in the city.
“Movement.”
Hex’s word broke Irabeth and Eryno’s repeated affirmations. Irabeth drew out a telescope while Eryno took the VeeMod Goggles and worked quickly. “I count … five dozen humans? And a dozen dogs and demons.”
“Probably tiefling and human cultists,” Irabeth added.
“There’s a squabble and … one less cultist. I’d guess half the group is heading out?”
Hex turned to Bliks, “Cylex?”
She held up a finger, casting off the spells she had prepared and then said “Cylex. Eryno, are you ready to have some fun?”
Outside the disgusting human building the guards milled about as one of them continued to rifle through the belongings of the one who had questioned Faxon’s orders. Their bodies moved jerkily, as if they had forgotten how to walk properly, while their bloated limbs strained their clothes, skin taut like a drum. Telepathically they shared lewd humour or complaints about being forced outside. Between them they wore no armour but carried primitive, wicked pole arms.
From the shattered road their cultist allies had marshalled out came a wisp of a figure. One of their number barked something in Abyssal at the figure that could be interpreted in half a dozen ways but was then silenced when it got jabbed with a scythe. Waddling to the fore was a man with thinning hair and a heavy horseshoe moustache, both silver but speckled with blood. A single boot was crammed on a bulging foot, while he wore a red and gold cape over torn matching finery.
“Prelate Hulrun!” the waif called out.
“Yes my child? Have you come to unburden your sins?” the obese man replied, his voice thick like his cheeks were packed with food.
“I worry for your health, you seem to have gained a few inches.”
“Fear not! I have longed for this day, when I could grow fat on the gifts of Desakri. Perhaps you have come instead to turn yourself over to him as well?”
“First I need to know something.”
“What is it my child?”
“Of all the elemental powers, which do you fear the most?”
“Rovagug’s bolts from the sky, with their peals and crashing.”
Bliks nodded and from her fingertip a bolt of lightning jumped the space between them, cutting through the man and a handful of his compatriots behind him. He just laughed as his scorched skin cracked and split, shedding to the ground in strips. Freeing itself from those remains the four tailed worm like creature continued to deeply chortle like a frog.
“Only a fool tries to use that on a child of the Outer Rifts. Now I will wear your skin!”
Tilting her head Bliks fired off a second spell and now lightning stretched along the front lines of the assembled Vermleks which was matched again by uproarious laughter by unharmed demons. The blocks of Cylex secreted into their lines by an Invisible Eryno, felt the charge pass and added their roars to the laughter. As the Androffan explosives detonated sending bodies and parts of bodies flying in every direction.
From the shell of a nearby building the other three travellers rushed down the street to join their wizard. Eryno carried the critical Rod of Cancellation strapped to the inside edge of his shield, letting Irabeth take the lead to the door. From a side pouch Bliks pulled a pair of Androffan Grippers and slipped the head into the gap between the doors after confirming they were locked.
“Sorry, I know it’s a museum,” she said as she reversed their action, snapping the lock free.
As they charged in, they quickly surveyed the foyer. Its mural had been defaced with blood and feces, but the clattering of arms and raised voices in Abyssal from a side room was quickly silenced after Eryno loosed a pair of Concussion Grenades. The debris from the room was caught up in the travellers’ Fickle Winds spell.
“Here, through the shrine,” Irabeth led.
As they raced through the next room, she staggered at the sight of the altar covered in blood, but quickly recovered, “Iomedae will be avenged for this insult.” With a snarl she slammed her heel against the door to the stairwell and it cracked open. The spindly and pathetic Dretches stationed there looked up from their game in time for Radiance to end their lives.
A red skinned horned man blocked the top of the stairs, shouting. Bliks grabbed Irabeth’s shoulder before she stormed up, leaving Eryno and Hex to their bloody work. The retort of Hex’s revolvers added to the ringing from the earlier grenades but body after body tumbled down the stairs, Eryno shoving them out of the way as he steadily made his own ascent. Mounting the blood slick stairs after them, Irabeth crossed the hall and tried kicking the door there. Following her and then peering around a corner, Bliks saw a handful of cultists hastily stuffing sheaves of parchment into a small chest. Spreading her fingers, Magic Missiles struck them dead.
A crash signalled Irabeth’s success and as they entered the room Bliks was thankful for the Fickle Winds in place of her usual breeze, as she was sure the smell would have otherwise made her gag. A handful of bloodstained white robed zombies stood in a circle, the poor men having had their bellies cut open to fill the basin they surrounded. Again Radiance blazed in Irabeth’s hand, ending their defilement.
Sealing the door behind them with a Hold Portal, Bliks quickly followed the others mounting the final set of stairs. This vestibule had mirrored alcoves housing bent and broken armour, previously held in pristine honour. The room stank of unwashed bodies and the fine carpet was scuffed and burnt in places.
Ahead was the reliquary room, where captured cultists had revealed under Charm Person that entry was punished by death. In council this, combined with the concentration of demonic forces at the Gray Garrison, was the agreed upon hiding place of what might remain of the Kenabres wardstone.
Its door swung open and a bitterly sultry voice called out, “come in my honoured guests!”
‘Areelu Vorlesh’ Bliks sent to the others who caught her eye and nodded. Irabeth again led the group in, all eyes scanning for traps or concealed opponents.
Sitting across from the door was a ravishing beauty. She lounged in a chair, one of her finely painted nails playing with a tassel that drooped between her nearly exposed breasts while the other waved cordially. Her red dress clung to her form with a wide cut out exposing much of her chest, blending from a near sheen at her shoulders to a black flame pattern at her bare feet. When a sinuous tail wrapped itself around her tattooed legs, her other alien features suddenly became clear. Horns curved back from her forehead and behind the chair rustled a pair of leathery wings.
Her form silhouetted a great egg shaped cage, in which floated a lightly glowing spire of cracked stone. Above the cage floated a foot long perfectly smooth purple cone of crystal, it’s point down towards the remnants of the wardstone behind the bars.
Standing, the succubus bowed, her eyes not straying from the drawn weapons of the travellers. “Your majesty! Had I known I would be welcoming such a prestigious guest, I would have prepared a better welcome.” She fixed her gaze on Bliks, “your Magister failed to announce your presence.”
After a silent beat she smiled, tilting her head and continued, “well Bliks? Will you not introduce us?”
“I am not your servant, Areelu.”
“But those in my service do find it ever so … pleasurable. And I would say I too would find pleasure in you, Eryno. Your … physique is remarkable.”
Irabeth stepped forward, levelling Radiance at the woman, “step aside, foul demon, and you may be spared this day. Refuse and you will be sent screaming to your just reward.”
“Tut tut Irabeth. I speak with those beyond your station.” Languidly she reached out a finger, resting it atop Radiance’s golden blade, her flesh searing under its holy power. Another broad smile without a twitch of pain spread across the demon’s face. “You are also beyond your depth.”
“Submit Areelu.” Hex said, his voice level and hard.
Bringing her seared fingertip up to her mouth, she licked the already regenerating wound then tapped her lips. “I think not,” and in a flurry of motion, flew up and away from the travellers.
From here … https://rpg.rem.uz/Pathfinder/Adventure%20Paths/PF73-78%20Wrath%20of%20the%20Righteous/Wrath%20of%20the%20Righteous%20-%2001%20-%20The%20Worldwound%20Incursion.pdf … on page 45 (43 at the bottom) I took a screenshot of the Gray Garrison and then did a trace of the various levels.
Already I had a concern that there was a problem with the design, as the bottom level’s southern curve doesn’t match up with the 2nd floor, and the 3rd floor seems to just be a random attachment. My first draft render confirmed these problems.
As you can see the three levels don’t seem to be well related to one another and there are sections of the 1st floor that aren’t overhung by sections of the 2nd (structural walls not going all the way through to ground level). So I matched the 1st floor up with the 2nd and moved the 3rd floor until the ‘corner’ where the straight wall opens into the arc was above the South East corner of the 2nd floor.
Here I found an interesting result: the alcoves on the 3rd level match up fairly well with the arc on the 1st and 2nd levels. I adjusted the 3rd floor’s large arced wall so it was a proper circle rather and put in a roof on the 2nd and 3rd floors and got this result.
As there are no windows save for the grating on the 2nd floor (a design that I know was made so players couldn’t simply bypass the other encounters inside but makes little sense, even if argued on a ‘demons can teleport anywhere they see’ level, as this is a building behind the protective barrier of the wardstones).
Initially I tried increasing the height of the 3rd floor to 20 feet rather than 10 feet, but I felt that broke with the description of the Gray Garrison as ‘squat’.
Properly redesigned I can imagine the arced sections to have multiple bay windows in them like the apse of a church, providing panoramic views to the north (2nd floor), east (3rd floor), and south (1st and 2nd floors). If the module designers are concerned about these windows being used to bypass the adventure, have them barred and shuttered (on the inside) so they can neither use them for entry (the bars) nor to snipe targets inside (the shutters). Further it would give a refreshing reversal once they’ve cleared out the cultists, letting the light and sun back in.
Sergeant Janom squeezed the bridge of his nose, trying to get himself to concentrate. Monitoring the radio communications on the middle, opperations deck of the cohort headquarter’s VAU-4-UN Super Heavy Transport robot was an unenviable job. The almost constant stream of tweets and whistles might have sounded like something out of the vast jungles of the Mwangi Expanse, but to Janom it could be painful. Volumes and tones would shift depending on the relative importance and sender, but it was all robot to robot communication. In training he asked the VAU-4-UN what the substance they were sharing and it broke it down as to the precise location, size, flammability, and opacity of a seemingly never ending list of trees within weapons range, interspersed with reports on terrain conditions, rocks, birds, even clouds. He thought it was appropriate that the radio bursts sounded like birds chattering in a bush, talking about everything and nothing at the same time.
The silence cut through to his attention. A blue light flickered on his console, with the same chirp being repeated after each flash.
“This is Arqueros Black Pronto. I have not understood your message, please say again, over.”
The system chirped again in his ears.
“This is Arqueros Black Pronto. Speak slower, over.”
“Arqueros Black Pronto this is Arqueros Black Ironside. How do you copy, over?”
“Arqueros Black Ironside this is Arqueros Black Pronto. Copy 5 of 5, over.” Janom sighed. The robots always seemed to want to know they’re being heard before they actually transmitted anything. That and their insistence on using this overly formal communication; one of the researchers from the Numerian Institute of Technology had told him it was how the Androffan military communicated and that they just had to get used to it.
“Arqueros Black Pronto this is Arqueros Black Ironside. Request contact Arqueros Black Sunray, over.”
‘Major Danug?’ Janom thought.
“Arqueros Black Ironside this is Arqueros Black Pronto. Wait, out. Major?”
Across the deck Major Danug sat reviewing some reports on an Androffan tablet. It seemed to be an odd combination to Janom, this hulking Kellid barbarian holding a glowing sheet of glass; the man even wore a pair of eyeglasses. “Sergent?” The large man replied, setting the tablet aside.
“Sir, Four Un Seven wants to talk to you sir.”
“Did he say why?”
“Sir, no sir.”
Clipping a field commset in place, Major Danug said, “Arqueros Black Ironside this is Arqueros Black Sunray, over.”
“Arqueros Black Sunray this is Arqueros Black Ironside. Request cancellation of escort. Request assignment of two Ex Ah You Two units. Request immediately deployment to Kenabres, over.”
“Arqueros Black Ironside this is Arqueros Black Sunray. Requests acknowledged. Wait, out.” He tapped a key on the commset and continued, “Captain, has our situation changed?”
“No Major. Aside from the local militia we spotted an hour ago, there’s nothing on the board. Why?”
“Four Un Seven wants to break formation.”
“What? I’ll be right down.”
Captain Elka slid down the ladder from the upper, tactical deck. She, like Janom, was from the city of Chesed and lacked the scarring and weathering her commander sported as a typical Kellid.
“Did it give a reason why?”
“No he didn’t, but he has shown considerable initiative. We’re riding heavy with both him and Four Un Three.”
“Yes sir, but we’re both in foreign territory and shouldn’t give those things too much leeway. It needs to know we’re in charge.”
“Well he did ask for permission Captain, he’s respecting the chain of command. Many of my tribesmates would ask for forgiveness after the fact.”
“I still advise against it.”
“I’ll put that in the record. Thank you Captain. Arqueros Black Ironside this is Arqueros Black Sunray. Request justification for your requests, over.”
“Arqueros Black Sunray this is Arqueros Black Ironside. I believe the Black Sovereign to be in danger. We have not had radio contact since initiation of Iron March protocol, over.”
“Arqueros Black Ironside this is Arqueros Black Sunray. The Black Sovereign has been in radio silence before. I will not approve requests without justification, over.”
“Arqueros Black Sunray this is Arqueros Black Ironside. Arqueros Alpha Starlight said to be receptive to Lady Luck’s signs. Last night The Rose was brighter than usual for approximately seven minutes. Ex Ah You Two reports have included observations of many unexpectedly wilted flowers. I believe she is warning us of the loss of hope, over.”
“Arqueros Black Ironside this is Arqueros Black Sunray. Requests approved. For Numeria, over.”
“Arqueros Black Sunray this is Arqueros Black Ironside. WILCO. For Numeria, out.”
“It wants to go running off because it saw some wilted flowers? Why do you give it such leeway?”
“He Captain, he.”
“Yes sir.”
“All my life I’ve only ever seen those gearsmen round up my countrymen, impassively but stupidly following the literal orders of the blasphemous Technic League. But Four Un Seven? He broke ranks to take a collapsing building on his hull … spared the lives of several civilians. I asked him why … his interpretation to ‘save Starfall’ meant not just to save the place, but the people in it. All of them have been acting differently since the Black Sovereign came to power. You and I need to recognize that.”
******
Bliks ran a finger across the bubbled remains of the Powered Armour’s visor. ‘What happened to your fields?’ she sent.
‘The gargoyles took them down, little buggers,’ he replied, looking over from some reading on a still intact screen, ‘you think if they were up, I could’ve gone through that Wall?’
‘I doubt it. Prismatic Walls do more than just damage, it probably would have sent you … elsewhere. And no, I don’t want to try it out when we get back to Starfall.’
‘You’re no fun!’
In the middle of the cul-de-sac Hex turned on his heel, eyes scanning doors, windows, and rooftops. It always amazed Bliks how he kept active, never seemed to tire or get bored. Her momentary reverie was broken by Eryno curse, ‘it’s saying I can’t use it if I want it to fix itself! I was looking forward to cutting loose tonight.’
‘Do without.’ Hex sent monotonously to which Eryno rolled his eyes.
For a moment Bliks considered then sent, ‘this might work to our advantage. We’ll look just like any other group of crusaders.’
“Hey paladin!” Eryno said over the Powered Armour’s speakers, his voice tinny but much louder, “Mind if I stash my suit in your house?”
Soon after his breakdown, Irabeth had taken Horgus inside while the Torch Bearers recovered from their battle. A faint voice called out, “Of course friend!” Bliks waved for Eryno to head inside, a gesture he mirrored which only made her eyes narrow. Between them stepped Hex, his head shaking as the half elf broke into laughter.
With the shutters and curtains closed, the front room was dim, but Bliks could make out its humble furnishings. Easily the largest room in the house, it was a simple kitchen with a table for meals at which Horgus sat. His eyes still seemed puffy from his earlier outburst, but he otherwise had regained his composure as he drank from a tankard.
“Safest might be to conceal your suit in our pantry,” Irabeth said gesturing, “and please, make yourself comfortable.”
Hex sat at a small desk near the door, his back to a wall while Eryno muscled his suit around the table and into the small pantry. Irabeth was nervously pacing, adding “we don’t often have guests.”
With a smile Bliks said, “for the captain of the Eagle’s Watch, your home is quite modest. When you told me it was in the Gate District I was surprised, most others at your station would demand at least something in New Kenabres.”
“We wish to set an example, that others might focus on the Worldwound, not on material comforts.”
Horgus looked up from his drink, “you’re naïve paladin. If you want respect, you can’t just have good intentions, you need to put on airs.” Irabeth looked at him agape. “You may not like it, but not everyone is as high minded as you.”
“Let’s not quibble over politics,” Bliks said soothingly. She shot the half orc a sharp look then said, “besides, I have something that you might appreciate. Come, sit.”
She immediately winced at a crash from the pantry followed by a muffled “sorry!” The two women then joined Horgus at the table, only to hear the clatter of metal and another “sorry!” Rolling her eyes Bliks shook her head in disbelief at her companion’s inexplicable clumsiness. Smiling she lifted her pack on to the table.
“When I was under Kenabres, in exchange for their assistance in finding your wife, the Descendants of the First tasked me with wiping out an enclave of demon worshipers. Amongst their treasures I found this.” From her pack’s extradimensional space she drew out a long darkwood case. “Seeing as you recently lost your sword, I thought this might make an appropriate replacement.”
Irabeth slid the case in front of her and snapped open its clasps. As it opened, and the golden brilliance of the longsword Radiance spilled into the room, all but Hex drew in a breath. It glowed of its own accord now, illuminating the kitchen with the warm touch of sunlight. “This … is precious,” the paladin stammered, “I am surely not worthy of it.”
“Who would you say would be?” Bliks replied.
Irabeth looked to the pantry door where Eryno was standing, “you’re a great swordsman, are you not? A champion of good and purity?”
“Well, yeah, but I’ve got my bases covered,” the half elf said, several scabbards hanging off his waist.
“Who better to wield Yaniel’s famous blade than one resisting the taint of the Worldwound? Even if she is gone, her blade remains … and it did not glow in my presence alone … it calls to you Irabeth Tirablade. Take it and carry on her legacy.”
With renewed confidence, the paladin slipped her hand into the mithril crossguard, her green fingers tightening around the cold iron wire that covered the weapon’s hilt. For a moment, the blade blazed with light, blinding Bliks, before the aura seemed to spread over Irabeth herself. The half orc stood, her shoulders back, a new gleam in her eyes, as she held the sword before her.
Then Bliks doubled over in pain, her hands snapping to her temples as her head suddenly felt like it was being crushed, a thousand eyes suddenly upon her. Tossing a handful of coal dust and finishing an incantation, Bliks centered a Darkness spell on herself, but heard a taunting whisper, “pathetic wizard, do you think your mere spells will block my sight?”
In a flurry, she threw her chair back and bolted out the door, her head pounding in time to the laughter in her ears. Outside she shot into the sickly sky. “Clever, clever indeed, to separate yourself from your … friends … so you would not betray them further” the feminine voice cooed, “but I still see you. I can’t wait to see what’s wrong with you, to peel back your skin, your mind’s eye … Bath’tanath said so much before I finished with him. I wonder … how many times will I have to flay your soul before I find out what he meant?”
Somewhere far away she could hear Eryno or Hex sending her messages, or Irabeth shouting, but the coursing howl in her ears, a screeching laughter, an indomitable will pressing against the vault of her thoughts, suffocated every other sense. “Where are you?” the voice whispered in one ear, her breath hot and the slight tingle of the flick of a tongue, “you can trust me, lover” her other ear registered, the feel of sharp teeth pressing against her skin, “we can be together, as you always wanted”, from lips pressed close to her own, “no more fears, no more doubts.”
Then, through the hurricane, a single bell tolled.
It was distant, forlorn, but clear.
Again it rang, quiet but insistent. The wind snarled but began to die. Something wet stained her lips and she reached out for the ringing surety. Her hands felt weighed down by chains, her legs stuck in amber, yet she strained against her restraints.
Something cracked. She was sure it was one of her ribs. The voice was a panting howl, teeth tearing at her, like a beast fending off a scavenger. Then something else cracked. Another bone? Her jaw felt numb.
Then a golden light broke through the storm, parted the clouds in her mind, and it was done.
Around her, her clothes were in disarray, their edges frayed. Laying on the ground, a figure in gold gleaming above her, its sword a sun. She could taste the metal, her blood, as lip dripped and then all went dark.
“What in Avernus was that?” she heard Eryno say. He was somewhere nearby, holding her? Carrying her? She felt a wet cloth against her brow, another dabbing at her bleeding mouth. With significant effort, she opened her eyes, finding them strained as if she had squeezed them tight.
Irabeth stood above her, chanting one of Iomedae’s liturgies, Radiance held high creating a glowing dome of light and protection. Eryno’s face was near, as he administered some ointment to her skin. The handsome half elf caught her open eyes and smirked, “at least you’re not dead. Again.”
Her side ached, her head thundered, her lips were sore, her brow strained, and her jaw felt like she had been punched. “Dominate … Person,” she said at last, her mouth painfully forming the words, “unlike … I’ve ever … felt.”
“Well it looked bad. You were floating up there, flailing about, then slammed into a streetlamp and came tumbling down,” Eryno said, his hands doing much of the talking. “You kept flopping there until she,” he thumbed towards Irabeth, “came out and did that thing with her sword.”
Bliks pressed the wet cloth against her pained forehead, letting her head roll back realizing she lay on a table. “We tested ourselves against Unity, but this was beyond its power. I fear that Areelu must be in Kenabres already … that or I am being plagued by the gods.”
The glow in the kitchen dimmed as the Paladin finished her hymn, lowering Radiance to one side. “I thought you had reacted to the blade, to my claiming ownership of it, but Iomedae consoled me, sent me to your side.”
“It was rather disturbing,” Horgus added noncommittally.
“We should not tarry,” Hex said, repeating himself from earlier.
Struggling to sit, Bliks said “yes, Sovereign, our duty is even more pressing I feel.” With a deep breath she felt the breezes stir up about her once again and she was lifted upright. “I am able to travel, but I must travel apart from you, if only to not give our adversary any clues as to our intent.”
Heading outside, Hex, Bliks, and Horgus waited for Eryno to slip into his well worn suit of heavily enchanted studded leather armour while Irabeth tested the weight and balance of her new sword. Floating at least a story above ground, Bliks felt exposed, shivering slightly. She curled her legs up under her so she seemed to be sitting in mid air, folding her arms across her chest, trying to become as small as she could.
“Alright, let’s go!” Eryno said almost too cheerfully, bounding out the Tirablade residence.
The most direct path to Gwerm Manor meant they had to cut back and forth, using several alleys along the way. That bothered Bliks the most as she had to fly high above the rooftops so as to have nothing identifiable within Scrying distance of her. This she did as quickly as possible, hanging back from the rest of the group until they had made their passage.
Still as they progressed south, the city started to again show signs of destruction accompanied by the occasional body in the street or more often a mere smear. Bliks saw the gouge they would have to cross before the others and quickened ahead of them to scout for an easy route down. The path of descent was forgiving but on the far side Eryno had to scramble up a steep incline to secure a rope for the less capable of the group.
Once they had cleared the gouge, Horgus started to show greater spirit, making commentary about the abandoned shops and boarded up homes, which ones had particular good products or how much they had borrowed from him. No business venture or renovation seemed to be below his interest as he remarked on everything from loans for a new stove to a handful of silver for a stout pair of boots. The businesses lining Old Cornmarket were of particular pride, as he proudly pointed out the initial G painted somewhere near their entrances, a discount he offered to increase his local notoriety.
As they turned off that thoroughfare Gwerm Manor came into view. It was a considerable building, wide with circular turrets dominating either end. At her altitude, Bliks guessed it had at least three, perhaps four functional floors, with steeply pitched metal roofing above that. The ground floor had only small windows set high in their walls, while the upper floor windows were all tightly shuttered. Neither light nor sound came from the building.
Horgus scowled, “these are not the instructions I left. Where are my guards, my groom? I will have words with Sofila.” He tried the door, a smile breaking the scowl as he found it locked. An intricate key opened their way into the darkened manor.
Shaking her head, Bliks came to a stop short of the entrance. “Your home could easily be recognized, could it not Lord Gwerm?”
Almost absentmindedly Horgus said, “but of course, I pride myself on …”
Bliks held up a hand and interrupted, “then I cannot enter.”
The contorted look on Horgus’ face suggested he was about to angrily protest then he tapped his forehead, nodded, and led Hex inside, “after you, Sovereign!” Eryno and Irabeth hung back. Horgus paused, adding “you are all welcome, of course!”
“I’ll keep Bliks company, you guys go ahead,” Eryno replied, tipping his head to Irabeth whose exaggerated sigh Hogus didn’t seem to notice.
Even before they were out of sight Eryno said “so what’re you doing after this?”
‘After this we still have to navigate…’ she sent in reply
“No, no, I mean after we’re done in Kenabres. I get it, you were curious, and it just happens to help Numeria if you give Mendev a hand. But what’s next? A diplomatic mission to Ustalav or Brevoy? More robot reclaimation sweeps of the Felldales?”
‘Surely the task at hand …’
“Can wait. Humour me Magister.”
Bliks balked. “Magister? What’s become of you?”
He smiled his lopsided grin, “when we’re out like this you forget my day job. I’m not dumb, I know how Scrying works. People can read lips.”
Bliks grinned in response, “well, I do hope to increase the ranks of robots in our military. That and convince more of the tribes to sign up. Numeria really does need a strong central-“
Shouting from inside the manor broke her train of thought. ‘His house has been burgled,’ Hex sent.
“A man flouts his wealth then is surprised when it is taken from him?” Bliks asked Eryno sarcastically. She shook her head and then continued to give a breakdown on her plans to bolster Numeria’s military, carefully avoiding discussing the Helige Cohort or either of her initiatives along the Egelsee and West Sellen rivers.
Still the half elf’s smile didn’t match his drooping eyelids or lolling head. Bliks persisted, floating several yards away from anything, partaking in the spymaster’s gambit. After what she considered was half an hour, he stifled a yawn, but then gestured for the sylph to continue. She couldn’t help but laugh.
An animated voice from the manor was accompanied but an occasional brief reply or interjection, which heralded Irabeth and Hex’s return. The Black Sovereign nodded to his two chief advisors, “Lord Gwerm has many surprises.”
“I can’t imagine how he’s managed to maintain such a ruse!” the paladin exclaimed, obviously in a good mood, “his staff, to the lowest hand, holed up in his safe room. They refused to abandon the house to looters but secured his valuables with them! All I’ve ever seen is their distain in public, even then hiding their love for that man.”
“His mistresses were unexpected.”
“Mistresses?” Eryno laughed, “that insufferable bore has more than one?”
“And they knew one another!” Irabeth continued, “what a scandal that would be if it got out.” She then paused, her tone dropping, “not that there are many nobles left to gossip.”
The travellers nodded to one another and set off again. The skirted the edge of Horgus’ property, noting the destroyed woodlot that served as his back yard. From her vantage, Bliks could see another chasm cutting into a muddy depression that might have previously been a pond. Sections of the wall between the Gate district and the next plateau of New Kenabres even now broke and tumbled into this dark rift, the sound of their ruin not being matched by a crash at its unseen bottom.
Turning to the west, the wounded sky was in full view with threatening clouds ready to unleash anything but water. “I had hoped we could climb that tower,” Bliks said, pointing to a mostly intact square redoubt, “to investigate another of the cultist’s safe houses. But these rifts … I will go alone.”
“Be swift,” Hex said.
The tower was considerable in scale, with unmanned ballistae dotting its flat roof. A stain and a destroyed emplacement suggested to Bliks that not all had fled their posts. More disturbing was the disturbing glow she could see, even midday, coming from the rift that ran parallel to this curtain wall. ‘Go out, have a look, get back,’ she reminded herself from one of Eryno’s training sessions as she turned from the rift to the devastation of New Kenabres.
Another one of the inexorably wide gouges leading to or from the central cathedral had torn through this entire neighbourhood, with rubble of collapsed buildings in its path. Nyserian Manor lay amid the debris somewhere, another sign of the Abyss’ lack of direction, as the demons destroyed allies alongside victims in their blind urges. ‘It’s gone’ she sent over the link, ‘likely destroyed by one of those Vermeraks. I doubt this city will be rebuilt with fervour that established it during the First Crusade. There are even lights from the deepest rifts … whether they are a result of the demonic attack or something else, I can’t say. Even if we destroy the wardstone, foil Vorlesh’s plan, I have difficulty seeing a bright future for Kenabres. Continue along our planned path, I’ll catch up.’
Bliks dropped down, keeping what remained of New Kenabres’ wall between her and the oppressive sky. As she passed over the deep rift, she could see their next destination ahead. While the others would have to cross one of the trench like gouges, she took a more direct path to the Librarium of the Broken Black Wing.
When she had lived here fifteen years ago, she occasionally went to study at the Librarium; the Tower of Estrod was dedicated to historical records, a place for sages not an aspiring wizard like herself. Each time she entered, she’d pass under the pitch Vrock wing, preserved and tacked there, giving the place its name. She also preferred the view. From its roof she could see into the gated community of retired crusaders who had braved the Worldwound to secure questionable wealth from the remnants of Sarkoris. It was rumoured that they had walled themselves as much to protect their wealth as to stifle the screams of their night terrors.
Black Wing’s tower was now absent from Kenabres’ skyline. While the trench her companions were traversing passed close, the destruction of the Librarium seemed to be of a different sort entirely. There were precise cuts in the stone, slicing through walls and floors, making upper floors slide off the building to shatter on the ground below. What remained of the great hall had been pounded by either multiple Fireball spells or a Meteor Swarm, the wooden parts of the façade being turned to ash. It was an unnatural mixture of fury and precision.
Amid the ruins was a ghastly circle. Arrayed in a crude star were five corpses amid a pile of books, all burned. What made it particularly disturbing to Bliks was the scorch marks streaming away from the circle, as if something had exploded amid the conflagration. As the other travellers made their way through the broken skeleton of a building, she carefully scanned the area with Detect Magic.
“That Warped One you fought yesterday?” she said to Eryno, “I believe it was born here. This ring stinks of the kind of magic that would create one of those things.” Turning to Irabeth she explained, “we fought a demon partially encased in a suit of plate mail dedicated to Iomedae. Where a crusader fell to corruption, it rose.”
The paladin grimly nodded, kneeling at the edge of the circle. She began to intone Iomedae’s ritual of last rites before she stopped, snatching something off the ground. Holding the leathery grey strip of flesh out for Bliks inspection she asked, “is this from that Warped One? I would know the fate of those who fall from her light.”
“That,” Bliks said cautiously, “is from something else. Eryno do you recognize that?” Looking over from a collapsed bookshelf, the half elf shook his head. “Hex?”
“Nargin Haruvex, the Choking Tower’s basement.”
“That’s what I thought too. Maybe not him, I mean he didn’t seem to have either an interest in the Worldwound nor the power to do this, but something like him. A Worm that Walks.”
“Hey Bliks?” Eryno said as he pulled a chunk of shelf from under the rubble, “isn’t this the same mark on your pack?” He held up the scorched piece of wood, a spiral engraved in its surface.
“The symbol of the Riftwardens. That might explain the ferocity of the damage! If this was a Riftwarden enclave,” she pointed to the clean cut through the stone, “then that would have been caused by blackfire. Perhaps one of the Adepts took the assault on the city as a chance to strike. But perhaps this was coordinated with the demons … I had always thought they sought to harness the power of Worldwound, not become its minions.”
“Are you not a Riftwarden?” Irabeth asked.
Bliks blinked, saying “no … I know of them, but I am not a member.”
“Whence did you get that pack? The Riftwardens do not idly sell their wares.”
“It was my mother’s. My father gave it to me years ago … after she failed to return from Eagle’s Rock.”
Irabeth’s eyes widened, “your mother died at the Eagle’s Rock Massacre?”
“No,” Bliks sighed, “she died when Eagle Rock fell in 4693.”
“Ghowiaya?”
The winds around Bliks petered out as she settled to the ground. Her world became mute. “How do you know her name?”
“My parents died trying to retake that fortress. I have spent many nights studying it, in the hopes of one day leading the vanguard of the host that will do what they died trying. There have been few ousiders like her in the crusade. But your last name is Kelshite, is it not? Neither they nor Abasheen are known for skin as pale as yours.”
“She was an outcast, a renegade from her kin. She had more in common with Djini, so she fled to Golarion at the first opportunity.”
“Sorry to break up the Society of Eagle Rock Reclamation, but I can’t tell how much time we’ve got to get into position,” Eryno broke in, gesturing towards the unkind sky.
Hex nodded, “Let’s go.”
Through her socks and boots Bliks felt the cobblestones of Kenabres. They walked west, past Southgate Market that, while deserted, hadn’t been scorched from the land as Northgate Market had. What merchants hadn’t taken must have been looted, but the stalls were intact. Bliks mumbled that their planned path to the New Kenabres district would trap them between two rifts, so they steered parallel to the wall, aiming for a gouge that had broken through that curtain wall.
She slipped while they were climbing down, scraping her hands through her gloves. Biting her lip, she ignored the pain, folding her hands into her pockets as they hurried north along the trench that led towards where the Cathedral of Saint Clydwell had stood. Not wanting to attract more demonic attention they turned towards a tower similar to the one Bliks had scouted earlier. Eryno took the lead, securing an Autograpnel at it’s ragged top so the others could take turns ascending. From the pile of rubble that had been its upper floors, they found a stair and made their way into the Ring district.
Truestone Park had been fouled by the demons, its pond now glistening with oil or worse. ‘Hezrou demons’ Bliks thought but tried to hold her breath against its stench. Those trees that hadn’t been torn down were even now twisting and writhing slowly in an unfelt wind. Furhter in, Alodae Amphitheatre looked intact but a row of ravaged corpses impaled on crude spikes suggested it was providing a new kind of entertainment.
Under Eryno’s direction they bypassed the few demons they spied, who seemed more intent on systematically smashing windows or defecating on any open surface. Irabeth produced a set of keys that let them cut through another tower into the highest plateau, the district of Old Kenabres. While the tower’s twin had been utterly consumed by a rift, they found each floor intact until they reached the roof, so they could see when their allies signalled the attack had begun.
Then it would be a short scramble to the Grey Garrison and the wardstone.
“Alone at last. Such a sad story, your mother. I killed mine.”
From here … http://www.dragonlanceforums.com/showthread.php?24138-Wrath-of-the-Righteous-Maps-No-Posting-Please&p=552329#post552329 … I zoomed in on Gwerm Manor at J and then using this … https://wrath-of-the-righteous-59.obsidianportal.com/wikis/kenabres-locations … I did a trace.
You might be able to see the very light pink line. I assumed that there were turrets in the North West and South East corners, with patios, of a sort, on the North East corner. Also based on the shading, I assumed there was a peaked roof structure over most of the building.
This is my approximation of the building, with lines highlighting the roof edges. There is a fairly large flat roof section in the middle of the building as a result. The overall building is about 200 feet by 200 feet.
My draft render:
I have the two foyers (Southern and Northern walls) with their own peaked roof. Overall the main building has two floors with attic (and assumed basement), with each of the towers having three floors (with attic and assumed basements).
“Who are you again?” Eryno asked, turning to the moneylender who was still fidgeting with the buckles on his recently purchased and ill fitting leather armour.
Glaring at the glowing slit that concealed the half elf’s eyes, “I am Lord Horgus Gwerm, you walking iron door.” Turning to Bliks he added, “I thought the help would be more burly and less talkative.”
“My apologies, Lord Gwerm, my companion is fresh to Kenabres, so is not aware of your esteem,” Bliks soothed, turning Horgus away from the towering Powered Armour. ‘Sorry, let me handle this,’ she sent to Eryno while pressing her lips into a thin smile.
He continued to squirm in the armour, trying to find a way to let it settle properly on his out of shape frame before giving up with a frustrated huff. “I suppose that as he is the personal bodyguard of the Black Sovereign that must count for something, but I would have thought such company would bring out better manners. Hirelings need to know their place. And at least he seems to know his way around a blade,” he cotinued, resting a hand on his own newly purchased cold iron rapier, “I just hope that Androffan coffin he’s in doesn’t get him and the rest of us killed.”
“Is there a problem?” Hex asked curtly, holstering one of his revolvers as he calmly walked over to the trio. He had opted for multiple holsters around his waist, giving him fast access to the diverse set of arms he had recovered from the various crashed starships across Numeria.
“Of course not, your majesty!” Horgus effused, “I was just telling your chancellor here how impressed I was with your bodyguard’s equipment. Very fine, excellent manufacture, something you should be proud of.”
Eryno shook his head in disbelief but said nothing. The midday sun glinted off of the Powered Armour’s force field like oil on water and he absentmindedly tried to scratch his neck only to find the plating in his way. Following in Hex’s example, he had secured several different rapiers to the Powered Armour’s shell with magnetic clasps.
The four of them had long since been prepared to leave the square outside of Defender’s Heart, but they busied themselves with double checking the gear and, under Horgus’ direction, reviewed the map of Kenabres. “The shortest route to my manor would be to cut through to Brasenose Lane and then take Old Cornmarket. But if we insist on detouring to the Tirablade … residence … we’ll have to go via Kybald Street before going back to Brasenose. Certainly, miss Irabeth can manage a jaunt to her own house from here?”
“I do not doubt your assessment of her abilities, Lord Gwerm,” Bliks had replied, “but this city is far from the safe refuge it was merely a few days ago. Our paths lie close enough together that it would be unwise for either of us to travel without the other.”
Horgus seemed to barely accept her explanation, only adding, “well, the longer it takes for you to escort me to my manor, the later the hour will be when I can show you true hospitality, not the meagre food and watered down wine of this … establishment. My servants will treat the Black Sovereign as is fit for his title!”
But that conversation was at least a half an hour in the past, as they waited for Irabeth to finalize the preparations for this evening’s coordinated attack. For the first time since Kenabres fell, the Eagle’s Watch would sally from Defender’s Heart and strike at the various demonic and cultist strongholds.
Her arrival was heralded by the inn’s door being unbarred and swinging open. “… to ensure that every crusader knows their duty. We can have neither flagging of confidence nor a breach in our secrecy.”
“If your fellows are not sufficiently motivated by your example, Captain Tirablade, I will ensure their duty!” Marilictor Volso heartily laughed. Bliks had yet to see the man wear his demon inspired helm, which was always at his side, but she was convinced he was well aware of his armour’s intimidating nature, balancing his duty against a desire not to unnecessarily disturb his allies. Here his Ulfen heritage shone through, as he always seemed quick to laugh or offer praise for deeds competently done. Even his braided blond hair stood in contrast to the matte black plate and blades of his office.
Flashing a tusked grin, the half orc nodded to Hex, “my apologies, Black Sovereign. As you must be well aware, the preparations for battle are not things to be left to chance.”
Bowing slightly in response Hex simply said, “indeed.”
She looked to Bliks, a question in the form of a raised eyebrow, who merely smiled broadly. Irabeth shrugged her shoulders under her fine plate mail, a gestured for them to head out. Just before they turned down an alley and out of sight of the inn she turned back, shouting “for the crusade!”
“For the crusade!” Volso shouted back, his bladed gauntlet held up in a fist as salute.
The neighbourhood looked no worse for wear than the day before, having avoided much of the destruction that had struck Kenabres, but the streets remained deserted. As they walked, Bliks could see a few eyes peering out from behind curtains or shutters, and not a few windows had furniture pushed up against them. She hoped that these survivors were still managing to get food and water.
The road they took had a gentle arc to it until they reached a sudden jog in the street. Spying a pair of crows watching them from a nearby sign, Eryno lined up one with the integrated laser in the Powered Armour’s forearm. It vanished in a flash of heat and light, sending feathers billowing across the street.
‘Uh … guys?’ Eryno sent, now pointing at the remaining crow. It looked impassively at where its companion had recently sat then looked back at them, cawing. A handful of pigeons settled down across the street, silently watching the travelers.
Bliks let the wand of Magic Missile drop into her hand from its wrist sheath while one of Hex’s revolvers seemed to jump into his hand. Seeing this activity, Irabeth also drew her longsword and tapped on Horgus’ shoulder. The surprised nobleman had been reciting something under his breath and turned on the paladin with an irritated expression. He was about to say something when, with her own eyes, she guided his to the accumulation of silent avians now lining the street.
Out of the corner of her eye, Bliks saw sudden movement on the ground, only to see a handful of rats scurrying around the corner. They travelled in a line, evenly spaced out, running along the boardwalk, parallel the dry gutter. Neither they nor the birds registered as magical, nor did they have the characteristic of dangerous swarms she had previously encountered, but their behaviour was disturbingly abnormal.
‘Be right back.’ His boosters humming to life, Eryno bounded off in near silence, slipping around the jog in the street. Waiting for his return, the remaining travellers held their weapons of choice at the ready, pressed up against each other and the siding of what Bliks guessed was an upscale flophouse.
Overhead not a cloud blotted out the red hue, one that would have been expected at dusk but the sun hung languidly amid the sky, its disk bloated and scarred with spots and scars. Across the street from where they cowered, one of the rats stopped to sniff some piece of garbage. In challenge, three pigeons landed around it and started growling and cooing. The rat backed off from the most aggressive of the three only to be pecked ferociously by the other two as it scampered away. Eyeing the travellers, the pigeons flew back up to their perches, silent as before.
‘It’s clear, but you won’t like it,’ Eryno sent, breaking the silence in Hex and Bliks’ heads. The android nodded to the others and they cautiously moved around the corner.
Eryno was at a crossroads several houses down, standing in the middle of the street. Just in front of him hung a limp body from an overhead rope. Once it was clear he wore the insignia of the Eagle’s Watch Irabeth shook her head, “several of the scouts I sent out at first light had not yet returned. I had hoped that they were merely delayed. Alas.” As they got closer, the wounds on the young man were evident; he had been severely mauled by talons that scorched and rent both armour and flesh. His legs were tied together and only one full arm remained, the other torn off at the elbow.
“I’m … not sure,” Bliks said to the unasked question, “no demon that I know of could cause these kinds of wounds. Too small for a Balor … too precise for either an Ooze or Omox Demon … maybe a variant Shadow Demon, that strikes with flame instead of frost … and Lilitus brand with a touch, but not with their claws.” Her shoulders fell slightly, “of course, the Abyss is constantly spitting up new monstrosities. Wait.” She looked around quickly, “with his arm torn off like this, the street should be awash with his blood.”
“They used a bucket,” Eryno said, pointing to a barely noticeable circle of blood spatter around a clear patch of ground. Still the air was thick with the metallic smell of the man’s vital fluid.
Horgus unexpectedly added, “does no one else notice there are no flies?
“Even as Deskari is the Lord of the Locust Host, such are the unnatural horrors of the Worldwound, Horgus,” Irabeth icily replied, “I’ve seen corpses rot to ichor before we could even cast Gentle Repose and others showing new wounds long after their death. This … this is why the Eagle’s Watch has been forever at your door.”
Horgus seemed about to angrily reply when Hex interjected, “we should not tarry.”
“My home is on the other side of this block, through this alley,” Irabeth directed, leading the travellers away from the macabre scene.
Eryno boosted himself up to a roof, vanishing over its lip, shortly sending ‘street’s clear. Well … mostly clear.’ Hex grabbed Irabeth’s shoulder and brought the rest of the group to a halt. ‘I think I found our scout’s arm,’ Eryno clarified.
Leading with his favoured revolver, Hex exited the alley first. Near the middle of the small cull de sac was a forearm with a still attached blood soaked hand. Turning to wave the group forward, he instead levelled his firearm at the building just down from the alley. As he circled towards the buildings furthest from the alley Irabeth led the group out.
The Tirablade residence’s single story was uncommon in Kenabres, but seemed to be free from overt damage. What maintenance had kept it in good order was marred by the fresh writing on its front façade.
WELCOME
HC
Dripping in crimson, the C was clearly incomplete, and the wood slats of the building had been broken where it should have finished the O. The snapped bone of the scout’s hand showed the ferocity that it had been used to pummel the wall after it failed as a brush. Nearby the discarded bucket was still slick with blood.
“My … home!” Irabeth finally exclaimed in horror, then again, “our home” in a barely concealed rage. Stomping across the street she reached for the door’s handle.
Her shield clanged against Eryno’s breastplate as he interposed his armour’s bulk between her and the door. Baring her tusks, she growled at him before giving him a shove, “out of my way, outsider! Whoever did this clearly waits within and will meet my blade!”
“A champion on the field of battle you may be, Irabeth, but listen to my friend’s silent council,” Bliks said where she stood with the others. “His caution has saved my life on many a day.”
“And clearly, paladin, this is a trap,” Horgus added contemptuously, “any fool should have seen that. This writing, killing your man? All a setup.”
“How are you so well versed in the ways of the Worldwound, moneylender?” Irabeth shot back, “despite the evidence, perhaps Aravshnial was onto something with his accusations!”
“Yes … yes!” a voice chortled from the open air between them all, “home at last and with sensible company.” A crack seemed to open in that space, spewing forth a tendril of intestine, followed by ribs snapping the crack yet wider as it vomited out more internal organs. Over these muscle was knitted, themselves covered in a mottled green skin, as yet more bones and muscles painfully broke through the rift, forming limbs. Even as the torso was clad in parallel rows of small leather plates, the head swam into existence, its tongue worming up from the open throat and tusks bursting from raw gums. Finally an ornate helm feathered into place, giving its wearer the appearance of a twisted insect.
Irabeth spat then spoke, “your parlour tricks still don’t fool me Vagorg” finishing by swinging her blade through the phantasm.
“Oh they aren’t meant to fool you, but I doubt those weak minded crusaders at Defender’s Heart have your insights. That’s where she is, isn’t it?”
In a flurry of leather, blood, and skin the image rearranged itself into a striking duplicate of Anevia before again shifting in a revolting fashion to mirror the paladin’s appearance from the frizzle of her black hair to the bronzed plate armour.
“They surely wouldn’t turn away their captain, now would they?”
The half orc turned back to face the impassive faceplate of Eryno’s armour, her face filled with pleading, “please, let me pass. I cannot, I will not let him touch my wife.”
“I intend to do more than touch her … I’ve always wanted to see Deskari’s children slowly feast on a living host. It is beautiful I am told.”
“Bliks?” Hex asked.
“As you wish Sovereign,” she replied, dismissing the still laughing Fearsome Duplicate with a casting of Dispel Magic, “but I do have to say, he made quite an appearance. Fine technique.”
Giving the mage a sickened look, Irabeth turned to Hex, “now what is our course? Walk into this trap or leave him to strike my fellows as they rest for tonight’s assault? You seem intent on not doing the former yet I do not think you a fool as to allow the latter.”
“Caution is not inaction,” Hex replied, nodding to Eryno, who turned and began examining the door. Without touching it, he ran his gauntleted hands swiftly and steadily over its frame and then across its entire surface. He then paused and traced a finger in a spiral pattern over one of the door’s quadrants until he tapped the air above a point near the frame.
With a sudden thrust he stabbed that point with a short blade in his other hand then stepped back as the blade arced and a spiderweb of glowing lines spread out from its centre. Irabeth tentatively reached out as the lines faded and then looked to the ranger.
Eryno’s voice was slightly tinny through the suit’s speakers, “Bliks could explain it, I guess. Magic traps have these weak points. Jab ‘em in the right place and they break.”
“Now that unpleasantness is resolved, this problem is not my concern,” Horgus said, straightening his back, “may I suggest, your majesty, that we let the crusader have her revenge while your companions escort me to my manor?”
“Lord Gwerm. During the recent Sovereignty Succession, there were three paths. Support, oppose, flight. Those nobles who supported me had my loyalty. Those nobles who opposed me had my respect. Those nobles who flew had my contempt.” Hex said flatly to the air before turning to look at Horgus, “The other nobles of Kenabres have either died or fled. You have not. Yet.”
Horgus wilted slightly under Hex’s gaze, even though it bore no particular malice or threat; the android was as impassive as ever. “But of course, your majesty, it was only a suggestion.”
Trying the handle, Eryno opened the door, “Whoa.”
Looking past his suit, Bliks could see a strange sight. Instead of the expected humble front hall, for all she could imagine she was looking down the throat of some massive beast, its lips gaping and pressed up against the doorframe. Eryno’s adamantine blade tested the lips and they came away uncut. “Hard. I’d say some kind of force barrier.”
“It’s a demiplane!” Bliks exclaimed, her eyes dimming from a Detect Magic, “I’ve been planning to create one of my own … this is fascinating!”
Hex rested a hand on the floating mage’s shoulder, “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m certain, Sovereign,” she replied, trying to calm her voice, “a temporary one by my guess. There’s a Gate between us and it’s location, but normal Gates last at most a few minutes. In any case, powerful magic was used to make this, as powerful as I have seen.”
“This is madness!” Irabeth added, “Vagorg was a mercenary sorcerer, I bested him with ease years ago, and yet you speak of him as an equal!”
Bliks pursed her lips, “perhaps he had help or found some font of power.”
Having backed away from this abnormal sight, Horgus said, “how can we even be certain he is in there? Would it not be unwise to step into this trap?”
“A demiplane is not idly made, Lord Gwerm,” Bliks explained, reaching a hand beyond the door’s threshold, “and any kind of environment or layout could be inside. He’d have the ultimate home ground. As Irabeth said, our choices seem to be that we either face him on his terms or he faces our allies; either way he has the advantage.”
“Proceed Spymaster,” Hex said to which Eryno gave a thumbs up and elbowed his way into the glistening tunnel. Bliks floated in after him and then paused, turning to look at Horgus. The nobleman began to throw his hands up, and then steeled himself, following Bliks. Hex took the next place in line while the half orc paladin brought up the rear.
Once the last of the party had entered, Bliks looked back, half expecting the mouth to close and the tunnel to convulse like some great beast swallowing them down, but the ruddy light of the Worldwound seeped in through the open Gate. Then she winced as a droplet of some kind of fluid fell on her face from the tunnel’s ceiling. Inside was considerably warmer and more humid than Kenabres, while the walls themselves seemed to glow dimly like light seeping through a hand held up to the sun. The air also reminded Bliks of the breath of a victim of some wasting plague; she was glad for her ever present breeze to keep the foulness from overcoming her. Behind her she could hear Horgus cough as he breathed through his mouth.
Pausing for a moment, Bliks opened her pack withdrawing a bulky Signal Booster, attaching it with its built in clamps to one of the walls. Its outer plates opened like a metal flower, sprouting spines and arrays. “Just in case he’s not actually here,” Bliks said to Irabeth, “I left a commset with your inquisitor.”
The tunnel seemed to spiral gently downwards and despite the slime was not overly slippery. Eryno made no attempt at stealth, his suit’s massive frame brushing wall as well as ceiling leaving behind clear streaks as the fluid sloughed off. Then the tunnel opened up into a small chamber, a few feet drop down to its floor. Landing in several inches of liquid Eryno swept his blade around the space before Bliks floated down after him.
When a heavy weight fell on her back, she was initially brought to curse Horgus’ clumsiness but then felt teeth digging into her neck and screamed. Eryno spun, stabbing right past her head. Another scream filled her ears, this time not her own. She fell into the fluid on the floor of the room. The weight suddenly vanished, the pain of the bite became burning.
“Babau!” Irabeth shouted.
The chamber was empty again. Clasping a hand to the back of her neck, Bliks looked around as the others jumped down into the shallow pool. Then from the other exit a skeletal figure pounced on Eryno, it’s claws sparking off his force field. He ignited his boosters but the flame coursed around the demon barely pushing it back. Then he jumped back, slamming it between the wall and his suit. The creature screamed again, an inhuman howl, then vanished again.
“Inheritor, that thing’s fast,” Eryno said.
“Demons with Quickened Teleport? That’s not good,” Bliks replied, holding a Wand of Magic Missile at the ready.
The roar of Hex’s revolver announced its next appearance, shot as it dropped down from the curved ceiling. It merely snarled and disappeared without attacking.
Flicking her wrist, the wand withdrew on a thin wire and Bliks fumbled with one of her packs’ side pockets. Her other hand now burned with the acid that the demon was covered in.
Her arm lancing out, Irabeth speared the creature when it next appeared, her blade sliding between its ribs. Lining up her arm, Bliks fired off the newly retrieved wand, a pale green aura surrounding the demon. Claws raked across the paladin’s plate, marring its polished surface.
It looked all the part of a victim of starvation, every bone protruding painfully, its arms and legs thin as rails, each limb ending in claws. Just above its sunken eyes protruded a pair of horns and it was devoid of hair, yellow slime dripping off its taut grey skin.
“Who sent you?”, Bliks said in Celestial, “answer and you will not suffer.”
In her mind she heard its response, even as it gnashed its teeth and tried pulling itself along Irabeth’s blade, ‘I care not who brought me!’ Its progress was reversed as Eryno slammed a gauntleted fist against its chest.
“Kill it, it …” Bliks began before she was drowned out by Hex emptying his revolver into its head. As she had suspected, the Summoned creature dissipated back to the Abyss. “It knew nothing,” she finished, “sent to test our reactions I’d reckon. Barely a scout.” The pain of her wound subsided and she looked at the minor burns her hand now sported. As she had the night before, she sent her internal nanites to her wounds. Immediately she could feel a flush pass over her.
“Magister?” Hex asked.
Bliks shook her uncomfortably warm head, “it’s all right, I’ve just pushed my nanite reserve beyond its recommended levels. Just a little uncomfortable, I’m still good to proceed.” Her stomach growled and her tongue felt sticky as the little machines drew on her body’s resources to fuel their repair operations.
Looking across the group, Hex said “we invite more if we tarry,” and once again Eryno led the group through the tunnels. As he strode, he shifted his shield back as he attached one end of a manacle to his wrist, idly tossing the loose end. The slope now mostly levelled off, but soon enough the liquid on the floor rose so they waded knee deep. Bliks robes dripped from the viscous fluid even as she floated herself, crosslegged, above its surface. The light was also dimming, which did not impede the Torch Bearers, but Horgus began to stumble. Hex released a brightly glowing Ioun stone around the nobleman’s head.
As they sloshed through the dark tunnel, Horgus said “tell us, Captain, how do you know this sorcerer?”
“It was many years ago,” Irabeth began, her voice sounding hollow behind her visor, “when I was working as a marshal for the city-state of Tymon, he was a member of a cult to Xoveron, demon lord to gargoyles. They had been too free with their coin in buying large quantities of Alchemist’s Fire, so I was given the task of determining their true intentions. In an attempt to create a sacred ruin for their master, they conspired to burn down a neighbourhood.”
“With the help of several of the blooded gladiators, we foiled their plan. Guile let him strike at my companions, driving fear into their hearts. Only by Iomadae’s grace was I able to overcome his foul magics and end his mad scheme. He had a silvered tongue, even trying to convince me that it was a foul mistake of our shared heritage, to let him flee from humans who would only kill him. Last I knew, he worked gagged in the arenas.”
“Tunnel’s opening up,” Eryno reported, cutting Irabeth’s story short.
The walls of the chamber ahead were beyond Bliks’ darkvision, but curved away to either side. Grinning to either side of their tunnel were crouched four headed gargoyles, crude approximations of Xoveron. A path led out of the sludge, winding up a rise in the terrain, cutting through tumbled down stone walls and collapsed arches. The stench of decay was overpowering, but the air was otherwise still.
“Welcome!” a voice cut through the darkness, its source uncertain, “I’m so pleased my dear Irabeth told you of our last congress.”
“Face us, coward!” the paladin shouted in challenge.
“Mind Lord Gwerm,” Hex commanded Irabeth, who stared at him in defiance, then huffed agreement. With inhuman speed, Eryno dashed to the remnants of the nearest wall, his armour seemingly taking on its appearance, even though Bliks knew that that could only be a trick of her mind. She stood from her seated position, still floating above the liquid, cautiously moving about the perimeter of the chamber. From his belt the gunslinger swapped in different shells, firing them off into the darkness only to have them explode harmlessly in balls of brilliant illumination.
The centre of the chamber was a massive mound, with crumbling perimeter walls and a smashed cairn at its summit. Splintered remains of great timbers lay under toppled cyclopean boulders. Encircled by a natural moat, the whole looked all the part of a ruined outpost in some forgotten swamp, somehow transported into this place. Everywhere perched gargoyles.
‘Can’t see any half-orc sorcerers here,’ Eryno sent over the link from somewhere in the ruins.
Bliks swept the area with Detect Magic, ‘this whole place radiates, I can’t see any magic standing out from the background’
“It is a wonderful tribute, you and these Deskarans give to my lord. All these cities left in ruin between your squabbles. Each sanctified in his name. The Horned Prince need not send a single follower from Ghahazi and yet that realm grows. All thanks to you. Your failure to protect Kenabres is another welcomed gift.”
Bliks heard, almost felt the grunt over the link that Eryno sent out. Turning to scan the mound, she saw one of the many gargoyles swing up after dealing some telling blow to the ranger. Magic Missiles stabbed from her wand, joined by bullets from Hex’s gun, shredding the stone creature mid flight. She flew towards where Eryno stood, one hand with his favoured rapier at the ready while the other swinging the loose end of the manacle. Another gargoyle animated, this time trying to grapple with him. It sprawled to one side after he backhanded it with his shield, again shattering under repeated gunfire. The next tore through his flickering force field, getting purchase on his suit. This one he drove back with a slash which Bliks dispatched as Hex reloaded. The gunslinger then peppered another enough that Eryno could finish it off with his forearm Laser Pistol.
“Come on, I’m hardly breaking a sweat here,” Eryno taunted with a laugh.
The trio stood at the mound’s apex, waiting for the next gargoyle to animate.
Bliks looked around. Her heartbeat slowed. ‘Do you see anything?’ she sent to the others, the nervous energy of battle gone but without conclusion.
‘No,’ Eryno replied.
‘Same,’ Hex agreed.
Around the entrance to the large chamber a shimmering wall of light sprang into existence. “Father, Master, secure your faithful!” Horgus yelled from its far side. His yell was joined by an animalistic howl and a righteous shout. Through the Prismatic Wall’s oscillating colours, Bliks could make out Irabeth fending off one of the two gargoyles that had stood near them.
It was hardly fair. It towered over her, its claws catching her blade and twisting it out of her grip. With a casual toss the creature flung the blade through the Wall to its annihilation. Horgus’ jab into its side evoked only a howled spell casting that had him curled in a ball. It then snatched Irabeth by the neck, ignoring the blows she delivered with her morningstar.
“Hex, I know your plan was to ration our resources for tonight,” Bliks said, finishing her explanation by casting Friendly Transposition, resting a hand on the back of Eryno’s Powered Armour.
A heartbeat later and her hand was instead against Irabeth’s plate and the gargoyle creature had its hands around the stiff neck of the Androffan suit. It merely sneered and spat a stream of acid onto his helm.
It then turned its attention away from his grappling partner to see where Irabeth had appeared screeching, “I will furnish your marital bed with your entrails, paladin! And you!” it continued, turning to address Eryno through the hole it had melted, “you cannot contain my power!” It grinned a mouth full of fangs and tusks, and then looked down at the green aura that now surrounded them both.
The other manacle of the Dimensional Shackle now bound them together. The beast wrenched at the links, but found the Powered Armour’s other hand tightened around its stone like wrist, leaving the links slack.
Soundlessly, the weapons and equipment attached to the Powered Armour fell, their magnetic clasps disengaging. Emergency seals popped and the chest of the suit blasted away, smashing into the monster’s chest. Momentarily thrown off balance, it stabbed a claw into the cavity where Eryno had just been.
Free of his suit, the ranger was as spry as any snake, dodging and rolling away from the creature as he grabbed his rapier and shield. He may not have been an Aldori swordlord, but his spiked shield could strike true just as easily as his rapier could deflect attacks.
A laser blast passed through the Prismatic Wall, harmlessly burning the beast. It screamed in frustration and exaltation, “I am a scion of the Abyss! Blessed with the elixir of Death and Life! You are no match for me, little things.”
Its movements were hampered by the unyielding grip the suit still had on it, but it still lashed out at Eryno and he could feel the heat of its claws sear his bare skin where the claws barely grazed. Seeing his blade glance off its rock like hide, he stepped back and dropped the blade.
The thrusters flared to light on the suit, jerking the two linked giants to one side. Grabbing his other forearm, Eryno held his shield in front of him. Then in a blur, his exposed cybernetics glowing in overdrive, he ran forward, slamming into the gargoyle.
For a moment as it staggered, it seemed unconcerned by this attack. Then one of its wings touched the Wall and shattered as it was simultaneously burnt, melted, and electrocuted. The Wall then seemed to draw the beast into it, with an unbearable suction.
“My Prince, why?!” it screamed as it was inexorably ripped apart, “I was using them! For your glory!” Its howls of protest ended as its head was sucked through and the Wall winked out, its forearms and a part of a leg falling inert to the ground.
The chamber then rocked, throwing the survivors around. Then, with surprising speed it contracted, squeezing its contents through the entrance. Only fluid seemed to be carried alongside their bodies, the shattered gargoyles, the ruins, all left behind. Around the twisting tunnels they were hurled, riding the crest of the collapsing demiplane.
When they were ejected out into Kenabres, the liquid stayed behind, even shedding from their clothes as they were forced through the Gate.
Bliks was the first to regain her feet and she looked to the others, “is everyone alright?”
Hex nodded while Eryno gave a thumbs up, the burns on his chest already healing under nanite administrations. Horgus wouldn’t meet her gaze while Irabeth stared into space, seemingly still in shock.
“That. That was Vagorg,” Irabeth said, not speaking to anyone, “he was twisted, powerful, but it was him. I saw it in his eyes, in his tusks.”
“The power of the Abyss,” Bliks replied, “he must have somehow given himself over to it and it remade him in his master’s image.” She then paused, pondering, “then why did Xoveron turn on him? I had thought that your charge would remove the Prismatic Wall as a barrier to Hex’s bullets … and who was he using?”
Horgus began to weep. It was a painful thing to hear, like many sorrows rising at once, no longer contained. “You, you, you judged me w w wrong Sovereign,” he began to babble, “I w w wanted to flee. It showed me w what I am, a coward.”
Brought back to focus, Irabeth crouched before the man, resting her head against his chest, and holding him close despite his feeble attempts to push her away. “I heard you call out to Abadar, the Wealthy Father, the Master of the First Vault. You struck at Vagorg despite his terrifying visage.” She looked up at the man through her visor, “his spell put fear into your heart, fear that was not there on its own accord.”
Outside her blood stained home, the moneylender returned her embrace.
‘Did anyone else feel that pulse?’ Eryno sent silently over the link as he crawled back into the shell of the Powered Armour, damaged beyond immediate usefulness but not destroyed.
Hex looked over at Bliks and nodded, ‘Yes. Same as Hellion and Unity.’
 | David Thomas Devine on Diskworlds |
 | David K on Elder Evils |
 | Michael W Fowler on Elder Evils |
