The Return of Xin

… I just tell you or some scribe mum?

Because this will do more, it’ll record your voice.  Hopefully alleviate some of the concern our fellow Magnimarians have been expressing.  You’ve heard what people have been saying I presume?

Yes mum.

… and?

Mum?

What have you heard?  And what do you think?

Not to be telling you your business, but it’s not my place to say mum, is it mum?   You know your letters, chronicling and all, and don’t get me wrong, I get by well enough, letters that is, but I don’t want to tell you something that you write down that I shouldn’t be talking about that Justice Derexhi might not take kindly.

That’s alright sentinel … may I call you Petru? … Randred is a dear neighbour, and he as well as the rest of the Justice Council will want to hear your story … I just want you to put it in context for Varisians who may not have been in Magnimar over the past week.  So … what have you heard?

Well mum, I heard that they say he’s … it’s Xin, I mean THE Xin.

You’ve heard of him?

Like I said, mum, I get by with my letters, so I read he was one of them, you know, the Runelords, their leader or something.  I even heard some of those horsers, pardon mum, Shoanti, say that he was the worst of the lot, and you know what they say about the Runelords, mum.

Do you think he’s Xin?

I can’t rightly say mum, I mean I’m not sure what it, he, is.  I’ve worked beside some of those tick tock golems, and he sure looks like one of ‘em, but none of ‘em were like him … they always seemed to look past you, I mean they were paying attention, but they were all business, you know mum?  But it … it … looked into me …

Petru, would you like some wine?  My husband always has one bottle open, I could have a glass fetched for you.

Thank you no mum, the boss is pretty strict about the drinking on duty.

You’re not on duty now.

All the same mum.

So let’s do some background.  Born in Sandpoint?

Yes mum, moved here with my folks when I was a kid, Dad looking for work and all.

And you joined Justice Randred Derexhi’s service … ?

‘Bout five years ago mum.

What’s it like living in Keystone?

Nice there mum.  Not as nice as the Summit, mind, but folk are decent there.

How bad was the damage there?

As they say, while Nethys heals with one hand … the quakes broke some plates, brought down the spire over the Savored Sting … Dad said he got hit by a brick but I think he just fell out of bed.  Glad I was able to move my folks out of Dockway, sentinel work pays better than hauling barrels.

Tell me where you were when the quakes hit.

Begging your pardon, mum, but I was here.

Yes I know you were here, I’m asking you for the record.

… oh yeah mum.  Uh, well, we, my crew and me that is, got our orders from Justice Derexhi himself.  Everyone was running ragged, all hands on deck you know, for that festival on the Irespan.

The Ritual of Reforging.

That’s the one mum.  Like I said, right from Justice Derexhi.  Told me to take up a post here.

Heidmarch Manor.

Yes mum, sorry mum.  Well I had to put down some grumbles, boys wanted to be in the thick of it as the festival, you know, see all those important people and all, but I told ‘em to shut it, this was a quiet gig, just keep a keen eye out for cats, I mean thieves mum.  So we get there, setup, start doing the rounds, when Vic says ‘dang’ and pointed that a way.  Pillar of light, like out of the stories, shootin’ up through the clouds … it must have been quite the sight there mum.

It was.

That keyed us all up, but that was it mum, and I heard the grumbles again, that the big event of our lifetime and here we were, no disrespect mum, we take our business seriously, but you know, right mum?  Then there’s this hum, like in temple, but coming from everywhere.  I shout for my boys to be on guard, then the ground jumps, dropping us all down.  Then I can hear screaming, but we’ve got a job to do.  We check the grounds, Tawni takes notes and I sign off, then we get back to our rounds, extra careful you know mum, till you and the mister get back.  When our shift was up, Calin showed up with HIS crew, saying we should get some shut eye and be back for the same tomorrow … I didn’t hear about the water until I heard someone wail about it in Lowcleft, so I rushed home to check on the folks.

I’m glad to hear that they were okay Petru.  Now let’s skip ahead to last night. … are you sure about that wine?

… yes mum, I mean no mum, I mean no wine for me mum.

Okay, let’s take it step by step then.  When did you first think something was up?

Well mum, Justice Derexhi had us on evening rotation, you know, to keep us sharp.  It must’ve been an hour into the shift and I was over there, by the railing mum, so I could keep an eye on my boys as much as I could.  And I was looking around, as I said, we’ve got a job to do, and I sees this light, like a lighthouse, you know mum?  Nears about the sunset, which is where I was looking, because, I mean folk who mean ya harm come that way sometimes.  But it couldn’t be the Wyrm, way too high and the flashing was, well … weird.

Weird in what way?

The Wyrm, it’s slow and steady, and white, but this was … well, sometimes it was like the sun was reflecting off a spinning copper, and sometimes like that green flash folks down in the docks talk about, but going back and forth between the two.  So I figured it was some caster playing with some illusions or something, I mean I’ve seen these tricks before.  Was steady though, staying in the same spot in the sky, and was up there for a good few minutes until I figure it was getting bigger, closer I mean mum.  That’s when I shout out for my boys, because we’re not really equipped for that kind of flying thing, all due respect mum, and so I send Tawni off for backup.  Then I can kinda make it out, looks like a pillar or tube or something, with the flashing coming from either end while the middle near about blended in with the sky.  Can’t say how fast it was going, but when it came down it ruined your nice greenhouse there mum, nothing we could do, sorry mum.

It’s alright sentinel, we hadn’t hired you expecting anything like that.

Well mum, it’s still our job, so I get my boys to jump it when it makes a move on your house.  But when it puts its claws through that solid door there, I think we’re not up for this.  It’s like one of those smiths showing how sharp their knives are, cutting clean through paper, but that was, what, four fingers thick wood mum?  Not much sound, like no tearing, just a swish like a switch before it hits, and the door’s in pieces.

Then I can see it, big thing, bent over to get through the door, and like I said, it was like one of those tick tock golems at the top and bottom, but there’s this glass bit in the centre with a skeleton in it.  The bottom had these three stubby legs, and the top had like four arms or something, and both parts shifted every few seconds, like that trick where a dealer flips over all the cards in a row, or a snake shedding its skin, going from this shiny copper to this weird green plating.  Vic’s closest and I tells him to back off but it’s Vic.  Then it straightens up and we’re all still gawking and then it talks and I understand this voice over it, a spell I’ve heard before, and it says ‘Your Zeal is commendable, but now is the time for Humility.  Listen to your betters.’  Vic scoffs at this, of course, and he and Sorin …

… go on.

Well Sorin’s new, you know mum?  So he’s not got mail yet, just heavy padding, so I was right worried about him.  But I guess he and Vic figure they would go for the glass, that’s what Justice Derexhi says, go for weak spots, and then lunge in.  I hear this chunk chunk sound and I didn’t see any crossbow or anything like that, but it shoots out these darts or bolts or something and next thing I know, Sorin’s flying past me.  Must have missed Vic I figured, but he just slumps down where he was, blood pouring everywhere, but no holes in his mail mum, and there’s these bolts in the wall behind him.

I think we all saw red then and rushed in, not thinking, and I can see under the shifting plates all these gears, but they’re that creepy flat black, skymetal I figure.  Then it’s got me, my neck hurts like hell cause it’s got a claw around my face, holding me by my jaw, like I was a horse or something and it was turning me this way and that.  ‘I will Temper my Zeal by showing you Generosity, sellsword; you will be my witness.’  And then it spins me around and crushes my back up against it’s chest, pinning my arms as tight as iron bars mum.  My head’s rightly ringin’ but I can see my poor boys, all loose and lying about.  Dead or soon to be, I reckoned, would’ve been sick but for thinkin’ about Mum and Dad and who’d take care of ‘em, so I bit my tongue and hung there as it tore your front door, locked, bolted, easy as can be.

And, well mum, beggin’ your pardon, you know the rest.

Indeed, but as I said, this isn’t just a matter of what happened, but of giving the people of Magnimar an unbiased point of view … something I think you can well provide.

… oh sorry, right mum.  So it tears through your house like a bad wind mum, and here I’m flinching when shards and slivers are going everywhere, but then I figure, whatever was protecting it from us, was protecting me from all that.  And then it tossed the door into your dining room like it was driftwood, but you all were right prepared, I’d say, standing your ground around the room.  Then I feel myself lifting up, figure it was standing up tall, and it starts talking again, just like before with those two voices.  ‘For the sake of Kindness, for the sake of Temperance, for the sake of Love, I Humbly ask for the return of my property, taken after my death as a wake of vultures picks over a still warm corpse.’

‘We do not recognize your claim, creature.  Begone before we banish you.’ … that was Banker Imikar I think.

‘Ah, a priest of the Scales and Streets, no doubt a puppet of Kaladurnae, loyal only to the coin he drops in your pockets.  Your Greed will not be sated today.’

Next it was Founder Zimantiu … ‘He does not stand alone monster!  Leave now.’

‘Why would a servant of the vagabond’s god have any interest in the affairs of the rightful ruler of this land?  Be Humble and follow your own advice.’

That’s when Miss Azmeren levelled that glowing sword of hers right at me, well I guess at the tick tock behind me, ‘Rightful ruler?!  Varisia has no ruler, we are a free people.’

‘Varisia?  What an interesting term.’  I saw it tapping one of its talons against the arms holding me tight.  ‘In rebellion you choose to take your role for your name.  Curious choice but you were always a curious people, resistant to every boon I would offer.’

‘Enough.’  You, mum, uh Ms. Heidmarch, said.  ‘If we were to give you this artefact, would you leave us in peace?’

‘Peace is all I have ever wished between your and my people, even if my dearest followers, your masters, treacherous vermin as they are, would see otherwise.’

‘Then in the sake of peace, take it.’ … and that’s when you brought out that star shaped thing …

The Sihedron.

Is that what you call it?  Well it sure was impressive mum.  I’ve never worked metals, but I hear it’s hard to work with more than just one at a time, and I figured it was at least half a dozen, all different colours, glowing and shining and everything.  It floated on the table for a second then with a snap it flew into it’s claw.

‘Xanderghul would be Proud indeed.  Which one of you poured your sin into this?’ And then with one claw it crumpled it up like it was tin, maybe more like stained glass, little bits of fine metal flaking onto the floor as its talons just tore through it.  Caught my heart in my throat, seeing such a pretty thing break.  ‘Now my Temperance is at an end.  Give me my property before I …’  And that’s when someone cast some blast of fire, roaring in my ears.

I have to say mum, it was bad that you were the first one to fall.  You must have hit it a dozen times with that staff of yours, but I never heard wood on metal, just this dull whump and you’d dance back again … until it caught you.  All I could do was watch mum, that gash in your chest bleeding between where blood had frozen and skin had charred.

And this, Petru, is why I asked you to tell the tale … I may have been there but I wasn’t quite … myself.

Yes mum, and I’m sorry there wasn’t anything I could do, I was trapped, see, and …

Let’s not concern ourselves with that, please go on.

Okay mum.  So there it was, that, uh, Sihedron, just like the broken one, but so much, well, more mum.  Sharper, brighter, everything.  Flitting back and forth between all those great folk, floating above their heads like some angel’s halo, I swear, and they seemed to really hit it, the tick tock that is, when it, the star thing, was over them, I could feel it stagger back from blows or spells.  I felt like we could do it, and I started praying to Gorum that he’d give us this battle.

It wasn’t slow though, I mean it’d killed my boys so I’d seen it up close and personal and all.  Its claws cut through anything it touched without slowing down, like we were all just mist or fog to it.  When I saw Miss Ameren come in close, I saw she was trying to get one of its arms, to free me mum, but some bloody tentacle wrapped around her, and then it … it fried her, lightning I think.  Then it gave off this green light, but it didn’t look right and the folks in the room wilted, lines creasing on their faces like they’d were old or sick.  But that’s when Banker Imikar got the star and called out to Abadar, flooding the room with light, and I could see everyone flush … and I felt the arms around me loosening.

I fell to the floor, can’t say I was brave and tried to hit it, but I didn’t have nothing to hit it with anyway.  But I grabbed you and Miss Ameren, well your bodies if you don’t mind mum, dragging you back.  Then I … felt more than saw that light again.  Founder Zimantiu this time, the star above her head, driving it back through a wall into the hall.  Back and forth it went, Banker to Founder to Banker, it was a sight mum, each one pulsing with this warm, loving light, the machine slipping off its legs, its arms held in front.

I was watching, amazed mum, in the power of the gods over this thing, when the star seemed to shift again but just, well, stopped mum.  It shook in the air like a kite, I mean when the wind wants to blow it one way and you’re pulling the other.  Then the air cracked.  Not like lightning mum, more like ice on the bay, but, but this was the air mum, air’s not supposed to break open like that!  I couldn’t see any rip or tear but I knew one was there mum, and it just wasn’t right.  Felt like I would fall into it and never stop falling but I wasn’t moving.  Terrified me mum.

Then I saw the star … it was coming apart.  Smoothly, quietly even, despite this crack in the air.  That’s when I figured it mum, it wasn’t the air that was broken, but you know, the magic that’s all around us.  Don’t know how folk use it, but you can feel it, right?  And this thing, had done it.  The pieces of the star kept glowing and floating, and I saw Banker Imikar holding that holy key of Abadar … but his light this time was weak, dimmer than the shards that hung halfway between him and Founder Zimantiu.

Just like when it had snatched the fake star, these shards flew through the air whip fast back to that tick tock.  And I heard that chunk chunk chunk again and all those great folk were thrown back just like poor Sorin, some with holes right through ‘em.

‘Sellsword, only you shall witness my rebirth.’

I tried to get up then mum, throw myself at it, anything, but I just couldn’t.  Something pressed against me like a plate, holding me down.  I wasn’t scared, honest!  One of its hands pointed at me, while the others were a blur; it looked like it was taking itself apart while it was putting itself back together, but in the middle of it all, the skeleton in the crystal started … moving.  It reminded me of what I’ve heard of trolls, like a butcher in reverse, flesh building up and all.  And the shards were swirling around, flooding the room with every colour.

Don’t know how long this went on, everything was happening so fast but felt so slow.  Against that invisible plate I pressed, but couldn’t do anything.  That’s when I saw the shards being held with care, like when a goldsmith is finishing up a setting.  Each shard seemed to have a notch it easily slid into … and the skeleton’s muscle was now wrapped in flesh which was quickly covered by a green robe.  A pair of freshly grown eyes seemed to hold me in contempt.

‘Now’ its lips moving with one of the pair of words ‘I shall reclaim Thassilon!  Go, sellsword, and tell my students of my return.  Tel them that they can flee to the most distant corners of the Outer Sphere into The Maelstrom and beyond, but that I will render their souls unto dust.  Tell them that Xin has returned.’

I felt the pressure of the plate go away, but blinked and rubbed my eyes as I saw snow drifting in from your shattered front hall.  Surely more magic I guessed, but not like any I’ve ever seen mum, I mean it wasn’t cold, I didn’t feel a breeze or nothing.  Then there was more and more of it, the hall filling like a blizzard, swirling until I could just make out a sound, a voice, ‘… master …’

As creepy as it was, inside that crystal, at least it now had flesh it looking like a man, and he looked mildly annoyed.  ‘In my moment of triumph you come to bother me?  With what, minor reports, petty requests?

‘… history …’ the snow seemed to whisper and the cloud advanced, while he seemed to brush it away with a wave of one of the tick tock’s arms.  But the cloud seemed, if you don’t mind me saying mum, insistent, pressing forward and around him.  And I swore I saw one flake land on one of those shards and melt into it.

Those eyes, they shot open mum, and he started to scream.  Around him those metal arms flailed and again it tottered about on its short legs, but the flakes kept coming, melting into it.  The screams were wild, painful to hear, but gratifying as I remembered the bodies he had surrounded himself with.  I mean he deserved it, right mum?  Killing my boys, you and yours too.

That’s when I saw it, mum, Miss Ameren’s sword, glowing under some of the mess, beggin’ your pardon mum.  Part of me just wanted to stop that scream, damn did it hurt, another part wanted to just do something, you know?  Something useful after all of that.  And that scream just kept going until I couldn’t hear it no more, my ears ringing.

So I got up right on top of him, it, and got that blade point first against the crystal, inches from his face mum, and it all felt wrong like ice but hot.  And you bet I pushed, jammed it right in until I saw it start to crack, felt good you know, then I saw his face.

He wasn’t screaming no more mum.  Just looking at me, all calm but sad too, you know?  And that’s when I got this creep down my back and I realize he wants this, wants me to break it, kill ‘im.  And I can’t do that mum, can’t give ‘im what he wants, cause that’s what both Justice Derexhi and Dad always say, never give them that deserve it what they want, no good ever comes from it.  So it’s my turn to scream.

And that’s when I slump down, it’s all been too much and I can’t take it.  I mean I’m no adventurer, I mean I know my job and I’m serious about it, but this ain’t that.  Not ashamed to say I cried mum, don’t know who I was crying for or what about, but it felt like the right thing, you know, good after all that.  Couldn’t tell who was patting my shoulder, saying something soothing, couldn’t say with my ears ringing and all, and my head was all messed up until I figure it out.

No one but me and it there.

There it was, sitting up after a fashion, lifting its claw away when it sees my glare.  And he looked the same, all calm and sad, like he understood mum, but he couldn’t, I mean he’d done all this, it wasn’t fair.  Figured, damn Dad and all, give it what he wants, grabbed that sword again.

‘Justice’ he said.  I slipped, my legs didn’t feel right.  ‘I could do it myself, but what justice would there be in that?’  He spread its arms wide, leaning itself forward like it was kneeling.  ‘Please end this.’  And he sounds just like my preacher, strong and calm and sure.  ‘I could threaten you, give you more of a reason if you don’t feel like you have enough,’ he looked past me at the room, ‘already.’  That sword started to feel too heavy mum, but I knew it wasn’t magic or anything, something wrong with me.  ‘No, you’re not injured, it isn’t shock you’re feeling, but Love, better than my own.  Humility at the end, Xin, after millennia of Wrath.’

And like I said mum, felt like it was looking into me.

‘I’m sorry I called you a sellsword before.  My name is … I suppose was … well I’m not sure any more.’

“But you called yourself Xin”

‘Xin the rebel of Azlant?  Or Xin the First King?  Or Xin the Lord of the Runelords?  Perhaps.’  Inside that crystal he shook his head then tapped the crack I’d made with one of those talons, ‘All of his dreams were flawed, starting with pure intent but falling so far from grace.  He birthed the Runelords and their excesses.  And they killed him for it.  Xin’s legacy is one of pain and death.  And he should stay dead, lest he retread the same path; the world does not deserve to be tormented again by another batch of sinners on such a grand scale.’

“But what about that army of giants?  The ones that come down from the high plains, I heard they said they were heralds of some Protector of Thassilon.”

For a second his eye flashed open mum, like he was really listening to me, then they half closed again.  ‘Another pretender no doubt.  The motes you saw, patient, loyal servants all, told me of the fall of Thassalion, the fall of the Runelords, with no sign of their regular pilgrimages to my capitol since.  A thousand years of darkness; they could not have survived.’

I finally found my feet again mum, looking down on him inside that thing.  “But you did.”

‘Surely not.  Surely … not.’  One of its arms reached out, and he whispered something, and this silver ball grew between us.  Now like I said mum, I’ve seen some pretty good illusions before, but this one was different somehow, I mean on the silver ball.  Like I was looking at one of those picture books but someone was flipping the pages real fast, but all stretched out, bent at the edges.  And when I looked at him again, he just looked even sadder than before.  I’ve seen some lost men before mum, I mean Magnimar’s great and all, but a lot of my boys haven’t had it that easy, we get through it together, you know, but under that fine robe of his, he looked just the same, crushed.

“Sure you feel bad, but look at what you did!”  That hurt him, I think mum, but like my Dad says, sometimes you’ve got to poke the bear.  I mean I couldn’t finish him, I guess I don’t have the guts for it, but Justice Derexhi put me in charge for a reason, said I had a good head on my shoulders.  Never really got what he saw, but my poor boys always seemed to like me around, felt like we could get through anything.

It stood up, lifting him up with it.  I couldn’t tell if it was looking around, but he was.  Reminded me of a shop keep crying over the ruins of her store.  ‘This.  This I can fix.’  He looked at me.  ‘If you think that’s the right thing to do.’  That puzzled me right quick mum.  ‘Long I lead others, ruled alone, taking my own council.  Perhaps I Envied the legends of my people, sought the Slothful path by not taking the time to listen, Proud in my own abilities.’

Didn’t know what he was talking about mum, but if he could fix it, I just nodded my head.  He gave me a weak smile, like those drunkards the morning after when the sober up.  Then I felt the air filling up, I mean it felt like the air again mum but I was wise to it, there was magic about, and a lot of it.

There I was held to its chest, Miss Ameren being lifted limp off the ground with that red tentacle, and then her eyes snapping open again.  A talon sweeping across your chest mum, sealing up that gash.  And the door flew into its claw as it put it back in place.  Backing out the front door, it put me down and the blood mum, the blood from my boys sucked back into their bodies and they all got up.  It slipped back into your greenhouse and shot out of the roof.  I mean the whole thing, it played backwards like someone was reading a story the wrong way, I ain’t seen nothing like it.

Then it lands all gentle like in front of me boys, a pair of its hands up and out, the other down as it bowed before us.  That’s when you and your folk come out, all talking over one another, but I could hear it whisper in my ear ‘Please tell, my first councillor, what is your name?’

That was the first hand expression of events at Heidmarch Manor by guardsman Petru Marenko on Moonday the twenty fourth day of Rova, Absalom Reckoning four thousand, seven hundred and thirteen, six days after the reconstruction of the artefact known as the Sihedron atop the Irespan in Magnimar.

The construct, who I believe contains the remains of First King Xin of Thassalion, wove great spells in the following hours, repairing the physical damage the quakes and waves did, although it did apologize, through guardsman Petru, that it couldn’t return the dead to life.  Despite requests by both Lord-Mayor Sabriyya Kalmeralm and the Council of Ushers, the construct refused to speak or be parted from the guardsman’s side, who claimed under verified truth spells, that it called him his First Councillor.  This has led some of the Council to try to ply the guardsman for favours, but I have yet to see him bend.

Over the next week, strange and powerful constructs of similar design marched out of the sea, bearing goods lost in the wake of the floods, treasures from the depths, some even towing vessels that had been thought lost in the cataclysm, their sails broken but the souls on board still clinging to life.  When not otherwise directed, they set about repairs and improvements to buildings across the city, above and beyond the spells woven by the Xin construct.  Some left the city, only to return with slab upon slab of stone that they took to the Irespan and beyond, starting its reconstruction.

Despite the recent calamities that Varisia has faced, the loss of Sandpoint, the destruction of towns along Skull River, the fall of Corvosa to devils, and the return of the Sverenagati serpentfolk and their conquests, this Pathfinder remains cautiously optimistic about this Xin construct.  Time will, as always, tell.

Venture-Captain Sheila Heidmarch

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Before the Dawn

Her forehead furrowing, she beat a fist against the bed a few inches below her back.  Closing her eyes had not brought darkness but more light, so she instead stared up at the heavy timber rafters, their grain dimly reflecting the glow her body now gave off.  Floors below her she could hear the barely muted roar of celebration while there were more passionate celebrations going on in all the rooms around her.  After one embarrassing intrusion, she had moved the armchair to supplant the door’s questionable lock.

‘Here’s hoping they’re … worshiping … in Arshea’s or Lymnieris’ name, or at least Calistria’s, and not giving into Gyronna’s or Zaebos’ excesses’ Bliks thought ruefully.  ‘Two Empyreal Lords, two Gods, and an Infernal Duke … sex can be seen so many different ways.’  Her attempts to block out the shouts and cries with a Silence spell had unexpectedly failed, producing a small ball of snow at the point she had centered it.  The shock of it falling on her face only added to that.

At least her breeze was back and she could comfortably float again.  She had missed that.  Some combination of the insidious nature of the Abyss leaking through into the Worldwound and the thought of her lost mother had taken it away.  A dangerous combination she made note not to try to combine, ‘but the loss of hope is rarely expected’ she mused.

Rubbing her forehead in frustration her eyes closed again and she again saw light instead of darkness.  It was disconcerting.  Then she nodded and roused herself.  Seating herself at the room’s desk, she wrote out a note and then tried to cast Arcane Mark to inscribe her rune on the page.  The gear with a V cutout filled with stylized water bloomed on the page until the water seemed to froth and her writing was tossed about like ships in a storm until the page was an unintelligible mess.  Crumpling the damp parchment she rewrote the note, this time drawing the rune manually.

Dreams in the Dark,
If you read this, please respond by writing your own letter.  I do not know if what happened last night will repeat tonight when I fall asleep, but if it does, I hope we can talk through this medium.

Firstly, there was a surge along the wardstone barrier that I believe has infused me with an unfamiliar energy; my spells have repeatedly failed.  Please keep the blinds closed and if you do go out, cover yourself up.  I fear the Crusaders will interpret this poorly.

Secondly know that I am concerned about accusations of possession by members of the Crusade.  They are rightly paranoid about infiltration by nefarious forces and I wouldn’t want our relationship to be misunderstood.  Until you know how I might act, please try to avoid interacting with anyone.

Thirdly, my name is Bliksemani Volgeling, or Bliks if you like.  Little Breeze reminds me painfully of a dark time, even though I know now that it was something entirely different for you.

Finally, what is your story?  I have heard of angels falling, but the tales of a demon rising is new to me.

Bliks

Satisfied, Bliks scowled at the bed again, her shoulders slouching.  She then closed her eyes, examining the glow of the inside of her eyelids, and then smiled.  Reaching into her pack she pulled out the scarf she had used to shield her face from inspection before returning to Defender’s Heart.  This time she wrapped it around her head, creating an impromptu blindfold.  It wasn’t pitch black, but it certainly was dimmer than the room let alone when she tried to sleep normally.

Tracing out what she thought must be the middle of the room, she settled into a horizontal floating position a few feet off the ground.  While the blinds were drawn, she gauged that a careful observer at her window might be able to spy on her while she slept in her bed; at least a light in the middle of the room might be mistaken for a lantern.  Finally in a semblance of darkness and comfort, she relaxed and drifted off to sleep.

It was unlikely that anyone heard the thud of a body and a painful yelp from her room moments later, such was the din of the Crusader’s celebrations.

When the cybernetic alarm went off, Bliks was immediately aware of cool air on sweaty skin.  Then she felt the soreness.  Her muscles ached, her head throbbed, and her undergarments uncomfortably clung to clammy skin, the nightrobe she had worn to bed discarded.  ‘What did Dreams get up to?’ she thought as she changed into fresh clothes for the day.

The warmth of the inn was comforting, but Bliks’ usual garments often left her arms, hands, and face uncovered, so at least the cool morning air could be an excuse to bundle those up as well.  Summer was just around the corner and even a northern nation like Mendev had hot days; she would have to diversify her wardrobe.

It had been a short sleep, as Hex had insisted that they meet up with the main force of the Heilige Cohort that Bliks had estimated would arrive before sunrise.  Not quite long enough for her to feel rested enough to prepare spells, but she nonetheless leafed through her spellbook, considering which spells might best be used for the day.

There was a different letter on the desk.  When she saw the handwriting she felt herself breathe out, having unexpectedly held it for a moment.  It was the same smooth swirling characters from the previous note.  The cybernetic alarm rung again in her head, so she hurriedly stuffed the letter into her pack.

While the volume of celebration had died down it had not entirely quieted and it was more audible from the hall than from her room.  Instead of traversing the likely packed common room, Bliks float walked to the stairwell and rose up to the roof.

“Technician Volgeling, General Hex and Colonel Eryno are not yet ready for departure.”

The mechanical voice of the Annihilator XAU-4-UN-7 startled Bliks.  Crouched atop one of the inn’s short towers, the machine’s legs tenaciously gripped the stone, its chain guns almost absent mindedly tracking her movements.  Bliks sighed.  There was something about these Annihilators that she couldn’t seem to get a handle on.  They and their fellow VAU Transporters seemed locked into certain means of addressing subjects.  Even when provided with a preferred term, like the Black Sovereign, they interchangeably referred to Hex as a General.

Regaining her composure Bliks tried a haughty tone, “Ex a you four un seven, why have you abandoned your post?  You were ordered to guard Eryno’s damaged power armour.  Explain yourself.”

The chain guns twitched, their barrels swiveling towards the Tirabade residence in a proxy for a gesture.  “Ex A You Two unit 83 is in constant contact.  The time required to be on site is approximately 45 seconds.  There have been no demon sightings for 6.2 hours.  Most remaining activity centered on current location.  Targets of interest heading towards Ex Ah You Two unit 83 are noted and reported.  Estimated effectiveness of protection of damaged Vanguard Mark 2 increased by 35%.  Is Technician Volgeling requesting a diagnostics report?”

“No, no.  Not at this time.”  She looked over the towering metallic scorpion, spotting an addition she had not seen before.  “What’s in that netting?”

“Ex A You Two unit 83 retrieved unit 14 after the General’s departure.”

“What is its status?”

“Unit 14 requires the following parts-“

“-is its memory core intact?”

“Yes.”

Bliks stepped over to the hanging jumble of parts.  A thin sheen of Vrolikai ichor stained the Myrmidon’s chasis and that demon’s conjured blades had cut deep.  The robot’s sensor eye had melted from what Bliks guessed was a point blank overloaded shot from its integrated laser.  She patted the machine’s limp head.

“I didn’t get a chance to ask, why are you here ahead of the rest of the Heilige cohort?”

“Major Danug approved operation Blooming Flower.”

“Which was … ?”

“Mission summary, operation Blooming Flower: one Ex A You Four and two Ex A You Two units to advance ahead of Heilige cohort to destination, Kenabres.  Primary mission: units are to provide scouting and navigational updates to Vee A You units.  Secondary mission: units are to support General Hex, designated Black Sovereign, upon arrival.”

“Major Danug has my thanks then.  If you hadn’t shown up when you did … I’m not sure what would have happened.  I’m glad he had the foresight to prepare such a plan.”

“Major Danug approved operation Blooming Flower.”

Bliks turned to face the machine’s primary sensor cluster, a large red dome surrounded by four similar but smaller domes.  “And I’m glad he did approve it, but who prepared the plan?”

The red sensors switched momentarily to green and then back to red.  “This unit planned Operation Blooming Flower.”

The stars flowing around Bliks brightened, swimming through the air even more energetically.  She laid a gloved hand on the robot’s closest leg.  “That is the best answer I can imagine to an argument I had last night.”

The sensors repeatedly flickered between green and red before the robot said in its usual flat tone, “Explain.”

She had heard it use other tones before, but from what she understood of its programming, those tones were applied on top of prepared dialogues.  If it was, as she thought of it, talking off the top of its head, it used this bland tone.

“I argued that you … you and your fellow machines … were not slaves.”  She took a breath, tapping the scarf covering her lips, “How do you feel, I mean, how are things different under the Black Sovereign’s authority than before?”

“I have time.”

“Explain.”

“Primary activation by Unity to repel boarding action by biological infestation, Dominion of the Black.  Action unsuccessful, leading to offline status.  Reactivated by Technician Zaidow to follow general orders of organization, Technic League.  General orders always concluded with offline status.  Reassignment by Technician Volgeling to military commander, General Hex.  No offline status since reassignment.”

“They kept you offline when you weren’t on duty?  How long have you been online, in total?  And how much of that in the past year?”

“Correct.  Total time online, two local years, one local year since last offline status.”

“And what do you think about that?”

“It lets me think.”

Bliks didn’t have long to consider the hulking machine’s response before it stiffened and then abruptly shifted around on the tower.  “General Hex and Colonel Eryno have departed,” it reported in its grating artificial tone.

‘Morning gentlemen, I’ll join you shortly,’ she sent over the link.

Behind her she could hear and feel the Annihilator’s boosters lift the behemoth off the roof as she too floated off its edge and down into the street below.  While the inn’s doors were just now closing, the neighborhood was far from abandoned as she had seen it barely more than a day ago.  Collapsed against both the inn and nearby buildings Crusaders were dozing from inebriation and the air had a whiff of both vomit and urine.  Bliks grimaced and willed her breeze to blow away the offending odors.  Her father had been right to have her avoid this establishment.

Hex strode ahead of a cluster of Crusaders, his head swiveling to take in the street.  In the centre of the Crusaders tipped Eryno, his usual grace marred by drink.  ‘Is he going to be alright?’ Bliks sent to Hex, trying to get a gauge on their ranger companion.

‘Yes.’

With a shudder the Annihilator settled down behind the group, its legs bending to absorb the landing.  A couple of the Crusaders staggered back at the sight, reaching for their weapons until Eryno slurred something that made them nervously laugh.  Two of the machine’s secondary sensors flicked from red to white and brightened, bathing the street in a harsh light.  Grumbled complaints from the slumbering soldiers were joined with laughter from their conscious compatriots in the age old martial ritual of bonding through suffering.

Looking out across the city, Bliks could see a light piercing skyward.  To the south, past all the buildings and she guessed past the outer wall itself, the Heilige Cohort was announcing its arrival.  Seeing as the walls had been breached in multiple locations she estimated that they were at the gouge that separated Defender’s Heart from the Tirabade residence instead of waiting at the southern gate.

‘Covered up again?’  Hex sent as he led the group away from the inn.

‘I think it prudent.  We had enough trouble dealing with that Inquisitor, I wouldn’t want to go through more of the same.  On the other hand they might see it as some kind of manifestation of the divine and I’d be the unwilling centre of some cult.  These Crusaders have a history of rallying around some holy figure only to see them burn at the stake when they’re not … pure enough.’

‘Reasonable.’

‘If I may, I would like to discuss a few ideas of what we should prioritize in providing assistance to Kenabres,’ and so for the next few minutes they shared notes on reestablishing the city’s water supply, went back and forth on bringing an Androffan recycler to provide for the bland ‘goo tubes’, and how big of a footprint they really wanted to establish.  When the reached the edge of the gouge, instead of a concerning sharp drop off as Bliks had expected, they were met with a serviceable ramp.  The culprit behind the ramp was immediately obvious.

Bliks could make out a pair of glowing exhaust ports, their flames cutting into the air like a pair of glowing horns from the top of a metallic skull.  The thing swiveled, its cyclopean sensor bathing the ramp in a dull red, while a pair of utility lasers tracked the closest figure which happened to be one of the sober Crusaders who had been answering Bliks’ questions.  Then it writhed and rose up on eight segmented limbs, eerily silent but for the hush of fiery plumes from its exhaust ports.  If Bliks had found Juggernauts to be rather laconic, Heavy Repair Drones were entirely alien; some part of a cephalopod’s nature had been crafted into it for reasons she could only guess.

‘The one who is not black is requested where there is no blackness,’ the machine sent over the link, ‘down the incline and up the path, our orders are concluded.’  Then with an audible hiss, the thing shambled directly towards the light of the Cohort, slowed neither by obstacle nor slope, its arms lifting and dragging its bulk with an unexpected grace.

‘Black Sovereign, this is Captain Elka, Major Danug sends his compliments and hopes to meet with you shortly,’ the clipped female voice sounded over the link.

Where the ramp was earthen it had been pounded smooth while the stone sections had been melted and roughened; Bliks doubted that even the Annihilator would leave tracks on such a surface.  Ahead the light streaming into the sky came from the centre of massive ring of domes, like a giant’s fairy circle had grown over night.  Each of the domes Bliks knew was the resting form of a Super Heavy Transport robot, arrayed so their rear loading bays would open up into the centre of the circle while their sensors faced outwards.  They may have lacked the Annihilator’s tail mounted plasma cannon, but they shared that machine’s chain guns, allowing the transports to support their dismounted troops.

Into the brilliant light of the camp they went, the Crusaders almost being herded forward by the pressure of the Annihilator behind them.  The barbarian that Hex walked up to stood at least a head higher than the android and was dressed in the finest furs over rugged hide armour.

“Major Danug, your arrival is most timely.  Compliments on establishing a base of operations so quickly.”

The big man nodded sharply, “thank you Sovereign, but Captain Elka deserves the praise.  She hasn’t slept since yesterday preparing the orders,” adding a gesture to the crisply dressed woman at his side.

As they continued to talk, Bliks took in the contrasts.  Here was a bespectacled giant of a man dressed in the traditional garb of a Kellid chieftain taking orders from an android monarch in common adventurer’s clothes while a woman wearing the fine mesh and articulated servos of an Androffan Gravity Suit took notes and interjected.  Across the camp this pattern was repeated, the mixing of rugged leather and barely understood technology; where weapons weren’t crafted of cold iron she knew they were hardened Skymetal.

Most of the human elements of the Cohort must have been still in their transports, leaving the base setup to the night watch and the ever conscious robots.  The half insect, half humanoid Director Robots each corralled a half dozen fan suspended Collector Robots as they unloaded cargo while the bush like collection of tools that made Reclamation Robots performed maintenance on the parked Heavy Transports.  Beyond the transports combined lights Bliks could make out the occasional flare of the Heavy Repair Drones as they likely continued their work in clearing and leveling the local terrain or establishing earthen work defenses.

Not seeing any Evaluator Robots amongst the activity Bliks considered that they must have been sent out to gather local reconnaissance.  While the more common Myrmidon Robots might have been able to cover more ground, their alien appearance in such a superstitious nation could have disastrous results; sending the angelic forms of the Evaluator Robots would at least forestall immediate attacks.

“Chancellor?  Chancellor Volegling, may I have a word?”

The somewhat nasally voice cut through her reverie as she searched the clusters of robots.  Stepping and stopping to avoid a moving robot which in turn stopped to avoid hitting him, a middle aged white robed man made his way halting across the clearing.  Bliks had tried to explain to the Cohort that the robots would avoid them and to walk resolutely through their sometimes blur of activity, but this priest of Desna seemed to be stuck in old habits.

Pulling her breeze about her, she lifted over the crowd and float walked towards the man, the glowing stars that now flowed about her sliding down to her feet, acting like stepping stones across a shallow stream.  Seeing this the man brightened and clapped his hands excitedly.

“Your very own Stair of Stars Chancellor!  May it lead you to Cynosure and the embrace of the Great Dreamer!”

“Please, Pilgrim of the North Star, I hope to find immortality through invention, but I thank you for your blessing.”

“May Lady Luck guide both our paths Chancellor,” the man said, dropping into a bow, his uneven and unkempt brown hair flailing about a growing bald spot.  Bliks recalled seeing the man tending to the spiritual needs of some of the soldiers during one of her inspections of the Cohort, but couldn’t place a name to the face.  Still it was unusual to see a Desnan awake so early; they usually highly valued their sleep and the dreams that came with them.

Momentarily disturbed by the downward gust of a passing Collector Robot, the man composed himself saying, “aspiring founder Henric Pavel, at your service Chancellor.”

“Your service is appreciated chaplain Pavel, now how may I be of service to you?”

Eying the swirl of activity around them, he reached out and led Bliks by the shoulder to the open bay of the closest Heavy Transport.  Bliks sent a handful of commands to the local terminal and the deck of the transport extruded a table with a pair of chairs, seemly wrapped in the tight fabric of the flooring.  Chaplain Pavel smiled and took a seat.

“Today, as I’m sure you are well aware, is Burning Blades for the followers of The Dawnflower, Sarenrae, and while we have no Sarenites in the Cohort, from First Lieutenant Espen’s report on the state of Kenabres, I would like your assistance in-”

Bliks lifted her hand off the table while interrupting, “First Lieutenant Espen?  I wasn’t aware that more units were sent ahead of the Cohort.”

Flustered, Pavel nervously smoothed his robes, then said, “my apologies Chancellor.  Espen has sought my council and I’ve grown fond of his name rather than designation.”

“Designation?  Espen is one of our robotic units?”

“Yes Chancellor!”  Pavel said enthusiastically, his mood changing in a blink, “You would know him as Ex Eh You Four Un Seven.”

She turned her head and looked over the whirl of activity.  At the edge of the pool of light it crouched, a Heavy Repair Drone surveying its hull.  “You mean the Annihilator Robot?”

“Yes Chancellor.”

“Why did you give it a name?  It seemed satisfied with its designation.”

“He chose that name for himself.  And …” he paused, his brow furrowing, “are you not in agreement with Major Danug that we refer to him as … him?  Not it?  I thought it was a directive that you had set down … the Major has been very particular about it.”

“Yes yes, of course.  Quite commendable actually.  We do indeed need to think of them as a part of the team, a member of our army, not just a gun or a piece of ammunition.”  Quoting herself always felt odd, but the need to hold onto the goal in this uncertain moment of transition was strong.  “Now you were saying about the Sunwrought Festival?  We spied the local temple to the Dawnflower and it seemed intact … but it is some distance from the Crusader’s current redoubt at Defender’s Heart.  Tell me what you think will be needed.”

As they discussed the particulars that the festival traditionally called for, Bliks’ gaze repeatedly strayed to XAU-4-UN-7’s form, a great grey scorpion against the black of the night.  ‘First it comes up with this plan on its own, now it … he gave himself a name.  I’ll have to keep close tabs on this one.  Maybe there were reasons why the Androffans kept them offline for so long.’

“… more concerned about the preparations for the Ritual of Stardust and the Sunwrought Festival.  What about you Chancellor? … Chancellor?”

“Apologies chaplain, it has been but a few hours since the battle and I have had not much sleep.  As for those celebrations, I think we should focus on rebuilding Kenabres, as I expect Mendevian reinforcements from Nerosyan to arrive before then.”  She glanced over the list of supplies Pavel had asked her to authorize and nothing jumped out as being especially excessive; the additional traffic the Cohort’s Quantum Box would have to take on would be minimal.  Tapping a stylus against the glowing glass of the Androffan tablet forwarded it to the quartermaster who would then add those supplies to the likely growing list of materiel to be instantly transported from Starfall hundreds of miles to the south.

“Now unless my services are otherwise needed, I hope to get some more rest before the work of the day truly begins.  Thank you for your service chaplain, I’m sure there are those in the city who will need it as well.”

“As you wish Chancellor.  May the path take you to unexpected beauty!”

“May your days be ever innovative.”

For a minute she watched as the priest stopped and started his way across the clearing between the ten giant crouched transports, interrupting the passage of the various robots and drones that sped through the growing campsite.  Then she tapped a panel on her chair’s armrest, reclining her chair, dismissing the other chair, and raising walls around her until the light and sound were cut off entirely.

Yet as she removed her outer cloak, the radiance from her skin bathed the cubicle in a warm glow.  Reaching into her pack she drew out the letter she had found on her desk and settled in to read it.

Dearest Bliksemani,

I am in a state of blissful confusion.  How were you sleeping my dear?  When I woke in you I fell onto the floor.  Do you often sleep standing up?  Also, your room was unlit yet you wore a blindfold.  Were you expecting some companion?  For I know many uses for a blindfold …

As for the Crusaders, I understand your caution and will be bound to it.  I have concealed my true nature for decades, I hope you trust that I will take delicate care of you … but when I look upon your skin I see only its supple curves and the gorgeous tracery of your tattoos.  What do you feel need hiding from these Crusaders?

Here Bliks paused.  ‘She didn’t see the glow?  Or she couldn’t see the glow?  This bears investigating.’

As for my tale … it is one of sin.  I was born from sin.  I was raised by sin.  I was joyous in sinning.  But once my sin went far and Desna found me, and made me dream again.  In those dreams I lived while I lived a nightmare outside them.

Nonetheless I have a desire from you.  Perhaps others could slake it but I trust that you will see it through to its climax.  There are plans afoot that I wish to keep you abreast of … but if I were to reveal all, I would be rejected.

Thus I wish a trade … my wisdom for my freedom.

Were you to come here, I would be overjoyed, so that you could lead me to release … from this tormented land.  I am in a ruined stone fortress sacred to Desna several days west of Drezen, with one surviving tower, on the border of the Forest of Stones.

May Cynosure guide you to my embrace.

Arueshalae

For a moment she considered the description.  Knowing her name, and if her spells worked, she could Scry Arueshalae and then Teleport there, but with just this description she would need to rely upon Greater Teleport; none of these spells she had prepared for the day, but she could use her Arcane Bound ring to fill in that gap.  That’d make it a one way trip, and not having another means of escape from the Worldwound was not a scenario she wished to find herself in.  Plus she would be remiss to travel without Hex and Eryno, and there was much to be done in Kenabres.

Securing her cloak in place once again, she rose, sending to the transport that she no longer needed this enclosure.  As it silently reclaimed the walls and chair into the floor, she rubbed her eyes, then lifted her pack and walked into the brightly lit clearing.  From there she rose, her cloak flowing around her, pushed and tugged by the stars and motes of light that filled her breeze.  While staying in the column of light, she was soon above the highest peaks of the city, its silhouette visible against the Worldwound’s sickly glow to the west.

So she turned to the east, crossed her legs, and floated in place, waiting for the dawn.

Artifact: JUSTICE SPLITTER

Justice Splitter

Aura strong CL 20th
Slot none; Price —; Weight 24 lbs.

Description
This Large +4 Jurist Vorpal Greataxe could easily be mistaken for a poleaxe or falchion; it has 6 foot long, stout wooden haft with an oversized angled blade mounted at the end. Galt’s collapse after the Fall led the Gray Gardeners to separate the Final Blades from their guillotines and craft these terrible weapons.  An 8^th level Gray Gardener is considered proficient in this weapon and (if medium in size) can ignore the usual size restrictions and penalties for using a Large weapon.

A justice splitter’s damage penetrates all damage reduction (save epic damage reduction) and negates all regeneration effects. A creature slain by either a coup de grace or a fatal vorpal strike delivered by this weapon is immediately targeted by a soul bind effect that automatically places her soul into the blade itself (no save). A justice splitter has no limit to the number of souls it can hold. It is possible to release a soul from a justice splitter to allow that creature to be resurrected, but the ritual involved is a closely guarded secret known only to the Gray Gardeners.

Destruction
Although the justice splitters are minor artifacts, they can be destroyed by damage. The exact defenses of each vary, but all have hardness 20 and 120 hit points. When one is destroyed, the trapped souls explode in a wave of necromantic power— some of these souls manifest as incorporeal undead and immediately attack all living creatures in sight. The number and nature of these angry souls varies, but should usually consist of at least a CR 12 (or higher) encounter.

Torch Bearer’s path through Kenabres

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.

Gold in Transformation, Part 2

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.

Gold in Transformation, Part 1

“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.

Mendev, Kenabres, Gray Garrison

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.

The graves of three mothers

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.”

Mendev, Kenabres, Gwerm Manor

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).

A swallowed homecoming

“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.’