For the love of order

On the Battleground V

Party continues contemplating grim reaper.

Party heads to a library to do research on grim reapers, the city, etc. Plane shift and teleport successful to Sharn.

Victor, Vi, Syama, Bertram, Gilly, Thomas go to library. Rest stay behind in a mansion.

Research city, diety, grim reaper.

Victor finds someone to learn forcecage.
Vi: (religion, planes assist)
Syama: (religion, planes): finds popular religion books, not good research books
Bertram: (arcana) wall of “positive energy” has been researched, nothing that works well. Solid fog, wall of X will work well.
Gilly: (assist arcana, local)
Thomas: (history) church was not necro-focused

NIght passes.

Search: 40 hexes. 1 rd: DC 50, 2 rd DC 40, 3 rd DC 30

Find the gloves after grim repears go through forewall, three strone walls and iron wall and three moonlight bridges.
24-Mar-2016 (Thomas)
A Poem for Laraellien

Composition notes: new form, to call it… Intensification? Rhyming poetic, stanzas must relate similar theme, intensifying each time, with the last line strongly echoing but not identical. Known superlative on penultimate to indirectly praise the final stanza. Last line must rhyme across stanzas? Same last word? Stanza form (many cross-outs) A5i A5i B4i C5i C5i B4i D4i D4i

I find my smile whenever I alight
Beneath the blazing sun or starry night
From trammeled track to untilled land
Lush wild greenery grows rampant there
Above, leaves rustle, birdsong fills the air
There life is lived, not merely planned
So many miss it, thus I ween
This beauty is not always seen.

Brushing aside one graceful curving frond
One day my travels showed a hidden pond
Where trees bent gently down to trees
A deer drank there, relaxed within that place
Formed ripples spreading at a leisured pace
And all the world then seemed at ease
Such bliss to gaze upon that scene
True beauty that’s most rarely seen.

A voice! I turned, then felled by lightning bolt
A radiant goddess frowning, finding fault
That I intrude on sacred ground
Then vanished deer betwixt bush, shrubs and trees
Before this searing perfect form, I fell to knees
My heart I lost, but she I found.
This awesome radiating sheen
Such beauty I had never seen.

She spoke! and after lightning, thunder rolled
All she demanded, swiftly it was told
She knew my love for nature’s way.
She bid my words would freedom serve
Swear wilderness to cherish and preserve
Of plants and beasts we spoke all day
Her words of wisdom pearls to glean
Their beauty none had ever seen.

[Session note: Laraellien was given the choice that this poem would be performed far and wide, that many would know of her awesomeness; or that it would never be performed for any one, that it would be hers alone forever. She opted for the latter.]

24-Mar-2016 (Gilly)
Behind the Scenes -- Vignettes at Atur

Several Gilly vignettes that would be happening in our time in Atur, but are too little (and/or involve no other players) to want to happen in session. Apologies if I got your character’s voice wrong. :)

- – - – -

Gilly: Right, that was easy. Bards are crazy useful and he’s fine with a reduced share like Mimo’s. Thomas is in. Now, Aramus. Anyone want to start?
Syama: I would have found it very hard to trust him, except for the Star Chart.
Victor: Well, there is the standard employment contract…
Gilly: Which he’s smart enough to see through. Besides, leading with legal trickery isn’t the best way to earn trust? I think we either trust him, unless we want a simple ’don’t try to harm us or it’ll suck’ geas.
Maral: Ye kin hardly blame him for being from Kirkata and thinkin’ that’s how things work. (He glowers at Gilly.)
Gilly: And he’s rejected them, I suppose.
Maral: It’s like this, far as I see it. Right now, you got me and Mimo on the front line. Unless we ease up on who we’re facin’, that’s a lot more risk. We need someone good at the toe-to-toe, and we need ‘em quick. Atur’s great, but it ain’t got lots of bored high-end fighters just waiting on our invite.
Victor: I for one appreciate the idea, if I am near a brutal killer, that he be standing between me and my foes, keeping them from getting at me.
[Gilly glances at Maral. Maral does not react.]
Gilly: Wellll… sounds like we’re in agreement here too.

- – - – -

Sumner: And then there’s the matter of the stock, which is considerable…
Gilly: [incredulous] The stock? Might I remind you that this is a Deed of Remediation?
Sumner: We are still trying to locate his next of kin. And the inn in question is quite large.
Gilly: All the more reason for it not to fall to ruin, your Lordship.
Sumner: So I think you will understand if we delay action on your petition for a month. Unless you have a compelling reason otherwise…?
Gilly: I’m terribly sorry. I had thought you understood the situation here. I should elucidate. Syama Starseer and myself, Saviors of the City, no less, look to establish a principally charitable operation, a … [consults a paper] Class C3. Feeding those orphaned and ruined by the recent war, education, all good stuff. You have the authority to sign off on it right now. Moreover, Thomas Talespinner is in town, and has taken a very serious interest in the matter. If he were forced to spread the word that a certain lord was delaying the project unnecessarily, perhaps in pursuit of a bribe…
Sumner: What? I never!
Gilly: Of course not. But people draw their own conclusions, do they not? And I hesitate to think of how it would go for you. Were I in your position, I might be trying to paint the whole thing as something I’d inspired.
Sumner: I see. You … do make some excellent points, Miss Tealeaf. And the list of City Domain properties is long, and guarding them is expensive. You’ll have the inn.

- – - – -

Gilly: And so these Rune Giants…
Thomas: The ones we need to be super-secret about?
Gilly: Right. They’re all sorts of weird. They’ve got this entirely different way of approaching magic. They can make these rune things, like flat pictures on the wall that move and kill you. Some of their creations are immune to magic too. Oh, except sonic, they seem to be weak to that.
Thomas: Sonic, you say? A pity I didn’t meet you earlier. I happen to be excellent at causing sonic damage.
[Gilly’s expression twitches as she contemplates how Thomas would have viewed Gilly-of-last-week.]
Thomas: Well, as much as I am about causing damage at all. I usually find there’s a better way.
Gilly (recovering her usual demeanor): Yes, it will be excellent having another diplomat in the group. A fight avoided is often better than a fight won, especially if you now have an ally for the future. I suppose bards are good at sonic attacks.
Thomas: Some more than others. I really only have the Soliloquy that’s straight sonic damage, but it’s … quite strong.
Gilly: Do tell. We really should review your abilities with the group, before we are heading out to who-knows-where.

- – - – -

Gilly: So, Aramus…
Aramus: Yes?
Gilly: You seemed dissatisfied earlier, when my magic sight picked out that you had an invisible sword.
Aramus: Well, yes. The purpose of the sheath is undermined if it can be seen by what I understand is fairly simple magic.
Gilly: Fairly few have it on permanently, but it’s true that many could notice it with half a minute’s investigation. But have no worries, because you are about to experience one of the many benefits to joining our little group! [She brandishes a cloth.]
Aramus (raising an eyebrow): What is that?
Gilly: A solution to your difficulty. May I?
[She reaches out a hand. Aramus thinks a moment, then hands the sheath and blade over. Gilly murmurs something about impressive levels of power, then commences to polish both, using… erm… sensous and attentive strokes of the cloth. Aramus raises an eyebrow. After the polishing, Gilly returns them.]
Gilly: There you are.
Aramus: They seem the same as before?
Gilly: But now they can’t be seen with Detect Magic.
Aramus: Oh, really? As easily as that?
Gilly: Well, not entirely. Have to redo it every week or so. But that’s a small matter.
Aramus: Very nice. Very nice indeed.

- – - – -

A: We all got our own copies?
B: So it would seem. Gilly’s trying to make us move quickly. What’s her game?
C: Gilly is an assassin in good standing. If she can scoop up the idealists with her little commune and keep them out of our hair, it would be to our benefit.
D: Are you sure about her motives? These actions are entirely out of line for her.
B: She’s playing a game, as I said. The question is, whom is she playing against?
E: We got a clear line on her at lunch. True Neutral, or so it seemed.
B: You’re thinking Undetectable Alignment?
E: Naturally. Which would be well within her abilities.
A: I don’t like that she’s setting terms for us.
C: And would you have respected her if she came begging? Even with, what, sixty, seventy names? Wait, are that many in all the freedom splinters combined?
D: Some of them are unaffiliated, and they say they’ll pay dues and operate within the Guild if it’s under Gilly’s wing.
F: That’s … a lot. We could have a lot more standing in the city if we didn’t have many rogue rogues.
A: She wants power of writ. She wants to write indulgences, and answer to no one.
F: She’d have reason to behave. She writes too many, we get breathing down her neck, same as if we all together write too many, the city starts to object.
B: She didn’t mind a little civil war among the rogues once.
F: It’s different when it’s your own people. And if she thinks otherwise, she’ll learn when we cut some throats. Followers don’t appreciate it when you go getting them killed.
D: Most of these are novices. Still, that’s a lot of people in one wing.
C: So? This ain’t a democracy.
B: True. And if having another voice at the table could help, as she says, improve Guild cohesion and strengthen our standing, then… Hmm. Yes. I think she is playing against the structures of power within the city. If this works, the Guild will come out from under the shadow of the government. I vote in favor.
E: Heh. I’ll take that as a call for a vote, and second it. Any objections?

- – - – -

Thomas: Congratulations on the inn! The work looks like it’s going nicely.
Gilly: It really is. This’ll be ready in next to no time.
Thomas: So I’ll be leaving in the morning to pay a visit to my Lady before we leave.
Gilly: Ah, right. And you’ll be back… when?
Thomas: Should be just four days.
Gilly: Four… what? That doesn’t work.
Thomas: What do you mean it doesn’t work? You told me I could visit Laraellien, that it needed to be now before you might be whisked off on the next adventure, that-
Gilly: I did. I just… four days is a long time right now, and I’m trying to get to so many things done at once. And you’re kind of important to several of them.
Thomas: It’s good to be appreciated.
Gilly: I know! Well, I hope I know. We can talk to Syama. Hopefully, she doesn’t have plans for her vestments tomorrow. Cross fingers? Let me handle it.

18-Feb-2015 (Gilly)
Of Sacrifice

The mountain loomed before me, impossibly tall, all jagged crags and ragged peaks. < Meet me at the summit > she had said, < and show me what you have learned of Sacrifice and Willworking. > With wings spread, and golden scales flashing, I took to the air, ascended. Hours upon hours of flight, and still sight of the top eluded me. I spied a mountain goat, and dove for it, weary and hungry and thankful for a meal. With incredible dexterity it bounded, but proved no match for wits, speed, aerial maneuvers, and magic. Sated, I settled to rest briefly.

I awoke with a start, blood and flesh-gobbets coating halfling arms, willed myself True to no avail. Gazing upward, I steeled myself to the task, now the more difficult. For a while it was not too troublesome, my cloak kept the worst of the cold off but my hands were raw before I glimpsed the peak, and those soft leather shoes ruined. Inbupenita lay coiled there, sinuous and perfect. < Dear One > she spoke. My heart leapt at the sight, and I half-stumbled, half-ran to her side.

< I have come as you have asked. >
… < And what is Sacrifice? >
< I have many thoughts on Sacrifice, Beloved.>
… < And what is Sacrifice? >
< In part, when you risk what is precious to you for others. >
… < And what is Sacrifice? >
< When I am prepared to die for my companions, it shows Sacrifice. >
… < And what is Sacrifice? >
< Sacrifice is having the courage to bear loss that others may gain. >
… < And what is Sacrifice? >
< Sacrifice is the willingness to know cost. >
… < And what is Sacrifice? >
< Sacrifice is difficult, even for the tempered. My companions and I were hard-pressed to admit the need to spend our treasure, our favor with the universe, though our lives and more were at stake. >
… < And what is Sacrifice? >
< Sacrifice is when I am willing to give what I must, to climb this mountain, to come before you with lacerated feet and hands— >
… < And what is Sacrifice? >
< Sacrifice is my pursuing protection for my comrades, when I could be seeking power for myself. >
… < And what is Sacrifice? >
< Sacrifice… is a dream I had, where love and blood could fuel powerful workings, and— >
… < Enough. Point at the moon no more. Sight Of Possibilities. >

The magic washed over me, a spell I had never encountered before. I did not resist, and my vision altered, an overlay of glowing web strands across the barren landscape, reds predominant, silver and blue next, but every color of the rainbow in attendance. I paused to examine the knots in my possession. They were Workings, or metaphors of them, strands of Power I could tweak to achieve some effect.

< And What Is Sacrifice? >

In seeing, immediate recognition. It had to be, that impossibly orange nodule. Why orange, I could not say. I did not answer, but only stared, briefly wondering if all this was worth it. Sacrifice I might gain (or is it lose?), but I knew I did not have the mastery of Willworking necessary to perform the feats I saw in my dream. A moment only, then my resolve hardened, and I stretched out my… arm. My little halfling arm, not nearly long enough to reach. I took a step, but the web moved with me, the task as difficult now as before.

Gathering my Will, I mentally demanded that the web reshape to allow me to claim Sacrifice. At first, nothing happened, then slowly the topology morphed according to my command, bringing the nodule closer. Inbupenita watched intently. But as it approached, its movement slowed, and it came to a stop a mere inch from my grasp.

Physically and mentally, I strained to my utmost, but to no avail. Then the thought sprang into my head: the claws will extend your reach. I manifested them, but something was unexpected about the space. The claws collided with the nodule instead of grasping it, and sent it spinning it slowly away from me.

In an instant, I sized up the situation. The web held me as surely as I held it. Was there perhaps something keeping me from… and then I understood. That bright red strand, weak but beloved, my first memory of using the wondrous powers of a dragon. Flammae. It pulled in nearly the opposite direction. I found I could bring myself to cut that tie, in one swift motion of the claws, and lunge for the mind-bending orangeness. It was intensely hot and charred the skin touching it, but I held on.

Did I just undercut my connection to the Draconic? Or only my childish and incomplete understanding? Flammae was never a powerful Working, though it served me well many times. To know a dragon as one who breathes fire, is this the foundation, or the facade? Still the orange power seared my flesh, though quickly it was being brought into my sphere of influence. I knew I had passed the test, and I knew I had failed it as well, and the incongruence of these thoughts bore strangely on my mind.

I looked into Inbupenita’s eyes, but no answers were to be found in those limitless depths. < Dear One > she spoke as the web faded to colorful wisps of memory. < You spoke of protecting your friends. I will show you a power of Sacrifice for now, while you continue to study Willworking. It is an extension of Manifest Scales, fueled by Sacrifice and contained in a resonance field, like thus… >

21-Nov-2014 (Gilly)
The Larabay and the Hatchling or, The Thousand Dreams and the Dream

I had offered up before sleeping, in the prayer of a non-adherent, almost certain to go unheard, but perhaps in this place:

O Desna, great Tender of Dreams, thank you for this space of yours. Please guide us to dream what we need to dream.

I wonder sometimes, if I hadn’t seen what I have, if in some other life I might have followed Desna. But if I had lived differently, why would I love dreams as much as I do? Perhaps, perhaps not.

I had hoped to dream of Inbupenita. I do not know if my prayer was heard or not, but the next two hours were the longest any have ever been.

< Dreaming >, I curled among kings’ ransoms, the greatest treasure this egg, borne of my body, my message to the eons to come. Alert where I would sleep were I free, thought I on Inbupenita’s words. This my testing, my lesson? Simple enough. To guard, though weary, this I offered to my friends, no less to my own bloodline. My vigil stretched unbroken. But it was never so easy…

< Dreaming >, I watched my wyrmling climb awkwardly atop a heap of coins, crowing proudly at the summit. Foolish thing, coins make poor footing. No knowledge of tactics whatsoever. Without training, support, surely would he succumb to this biting world. Did I not have grander schemes to wage? But I understood, or thought so, knocking the heap, sending him tumbling to dust, judging his recovery, challenging him to learn. Would that it were so simple…

< Dreaming >, I spread homeward wings, jaws free to grip goat’s carcass, food enough for < Little One > and I for some time. Something felt wrong, a stirring in the air or perhaps in my mind, as I returned to the cave. My screams rent the night at the sight of the mauled corpse of my son. I sniffed the air, dropped the goat, and took to the air seeking vengeance.

< Dreaming >, … returned to the cave with good speed. My screams rent the night at the sight of the mauled corpse of my son. A pale humanoid with parrot wings spun around from his examination of my treasure, baring teeth like needles. < LARABAY > I roared, and dove to the attack. He fell, but the victory was cold.

< Dreaming >, I avoided hunting to keep Malikni safe. His plaintive hungered cries pierced the night.

< Dreaming >, I hunted nearby, finding little prey to sate the hunger of me and mine. I spotted a Larabay in the forest, it ran to ground quickly before my might.

< Dreaming >, … returned to the cave with all possible speed. A foreign scent alerted me to trouble, and I approached to see a humanoid creature threatening Malikni. I flung down the goat and attacked swiftly, wounding it and forcing it to flee.

< Dreaming >, … threatening Malikni. I attacked with stealth, hoping to pin it beneath my claws and rend, but it surprised me by casting a cone of cold at my son, killing him instantly. Raging, I slaughtered it, learning only after its death when it reverted form that it was a Larabay. < LIVE!> I demanded, cradling my hatchling’s corpse. < LIVE! > But it was no use.

< Dreaming >, … < LIVE! > I roared again. < BY MY WILL, LIVE! > The world shook and bent with the force of the working, but it was not nearly enough. The broken body gave no answer.

< Dreaming >, I arrived too late to save the wyrmling, but soon enough to avenge him. Again.

< Dreaming >, … with the force of the working, but power such as that requires sacrifice. Sacrifice? Wait. What Inbu-

< Dreaming >, I killed the Larabay, and held Malikni, his life in the balance. < Where is that healing wand? I need to find it NOW! > One claw scattered gems and coins in a desperate search, a struggle against time, as his life leaked from the wound and onto the stone. Life. I… see.

< Dreaming >, the battle waged hundreds of ways, Malikni uninjured, wounded, dead. The Larabay fleeing unharmed or damaged, or dead upon the stone, the path, the forest floor. Full fourteen times it was I who died, the Larabay crowing in triumph as it sank the rapier’s point in again and again. More than that the times it < suggested > I leave on another mission and bufuddled, I abandoned my son, or wrapped my thoughts in mazes that I killed Malikni myself. Those were the worst.

< Dreaming >, I killed the Larabay, and held Malikni, grievously injured. < You will live > I told him, but even a hatchling could see the wound was fatal. He looked up at me with beautiful wide eyes. < I love you > Then the eyes closed, his blood slicked scale and stone. < Love > my reply in words, and my blood replied to his as I jabbed my claw deep in my chest. Excruciating pain blossomed, a flower of love and sacrifice, and my strength ebbed. But I kept my WIll, and shaped it to the power I needed. < From my sacrifice >, and that power surged even as a red miasma crowded my vision, < By My Will, LIVE! > I collapsed on the floor, exhausted, my own blood crowding out both Malikni’s and the Larabay’s combined. < His eyes opened. >
I startled awake, Dolg’s hand on my shoulder. I was still True? No, wait. I was a halfling again. He asked if I was all right. My head swam with a thousand dreams of the same night, one overlaid on the next. I don’t even remember what I said, but I’m sure it was confused. My focus was solely on the lesson I’d learned — or hoped I’d learned — from those two hours.

Guiltspur Visions
Sights and sounds under the lava

Maral in the Library

Maral enters the room after passing through the layer of fog visible from above and has a startling vision. He sees the library as it was during the city’s height — a vast repository of knowledge stretching from floor to ceiling, its shelves holding thousands of books, scrolls, maps, and grimoires. Eager students and wizards mill about the floor below or float up to replace or retrieve books, when suddenly, the dozens of men and women stop and turn to stare hatefully at the Maral — and the closest face is Maral’s! The books in the room suddenly writhe and fly off the shelves, opening up and spilling forth foul black mists and coils of corrupt secrets that should never be known. The mist and coils engulf the wizards and students and crush them to pulp. An instant later, the vision passes and the room appears as it actually does.

Gilly and the Sphinx

As Gilly approaches the shelves, she suddenly feels as if the room were spinning around her while the sphinx statue grinds to life and turns to faces her. She feels the faceless gaze hold her motionless while the world crumbles away to be replaced by the vastness of space. The certainty of a singular malevolence looming behind the stars themselves, a darker dark amid the blackness, fills her mind, along with a myriad of strange and horrific secrets. An instant later, the room returns to normal, and she remembers only that she stood before an entity known as the Crawling Chaos.

Vi at the Altar

As Vi steps up onto the raised pulpit area, she suddenly feels dizzy. An instant later, the two faceless gargoyles suddenly animate and lurch forward. A low, rumbling chanting in an unknown language fills the room as the gargoyles move up to snatch Vi into the air between them. As they do, the room itself crumbles away, revealing that the other party members are held aloft by the two monsters several miles tall, over a strange frozen mountain plateau below. As the gargoyles drop their captive, she snaps out of the vision.

Syama and the Idyllic WIndow

As Syama approaches the foot of the illusory window, the scene depicted suddenly shifts from an idyllic noon-time hillside to a nightmare vista of frozen Dal Quor aglow under the gibbous light of a bloated moon. The landscape appears cracked and desolate, and in the medium distance a troop of pallid froglike monsters leads a line of chained captives. A jagged mountain range cuts the horizon, while beyond this range the head of an immense jackal-like leviathan slowly turns, as if to peer back through the window.

To be continued?

23-Sep-2014 (Gilly)
A Dream of Inbupenita

I < dreamed > again, Inbupenita and I exploring, soaring over crags and cliffs to snow-capped peaks beyond the realm of safety, where hidden riches lie guarded by uncounted weight on stone. Places neither had seen nor dreamed, limitless possibility. So glorious these times together, these dreams, and no drugs needed to know < her/myself >, my journey, my wings, my claws.

Did that contentment breed familiarity, presumption, hunger? Or warmth, closeness, togetherness? Was I trying to use Inbupenita to further selfish ends, or was I trying to know < her/myself > more, to < self-improve > and immanitize a higher unity? Even now, I cannot assuredly answer.

But I < know/remember > what happened then, when on rocky ledge we lay exhausted. Brushing travel’s dust from her < beautifully-shining > scales, < Beloved >, I spoke, < those others, the green, the black, whom I had burned to ash for my love of you, they proffered me gifts of magic to tempt my unlearned heart. Would not you do as much, who does love me far greater than ever they did? >

Inbupenita turned, full sinuous glory, fixing me with eyes of limitless depths. I could not know if this gaze was inquiring, damning, loving, testing; only inscrutable. I knew though, that if I averted my gaze I would < lose a great treasure >. I did not look away.

< Dear One >, Inbupenita spoke after what seemed ages, < My gifts are yours always, and never held back once you are ready for them. They are forever mightier than those others’. But you must first understand Sacrifice and Willworking. >

< Willworking I understand as much as any can, thanking our ally’s aid, and… Sacrifice, Beloved? I risk my life for my friends, for Syama’s cause even though she hates/fears me… I lay my very soul on the line, and you sp- >

< ENOUGH, Dear One. I will send dreams, when you are True but alone, to illumine the way when you are ready. Until then, do not speak of this to me again. >

< I… I will seek to understand, Beloved. >

< Now… we are rested enough. Let us descend to the East, I see waterfalls and interesting cave systems. >

Wings spread, we took to the air.

11-Apr-2014 (Maral)
Letters to Kirkata

“Yer lucky to be heading out now, and by the West Gate.”

‘No kidding, the demons were bad enough, but they say there’s an army attacking this evening? I’d rather be pretty much anywhere. Any last-minute mail?’

“Ayup, got one for Fenwick, one for Littleton, and two for Kirkata. Here you go.”

‘Right, thanks. Good luck tonight on the wall, you live through it and I’ll buy you beer when I’m back in town.’

“I’ll be holding you to that.”

’You’d better.’

In two sealed letters in the mail, in formal Dwarven:

From: Maral Glorgirn
To: Thosun Glorgirn, and To: Elric Glorgirn

Honored Elder, here do I, faithful member of the Glorgirn clan, send greeting.

As we share an interest in a certain shape, I have made certain discreet inquiries, and have found some information that I think you will find most edifying. The sigil on p. 2 should be of especial interest. I entreat you to study the enclosed at your earliest convenience, and await word of your opinion of the effect of this information on arrangements. If your reply is by post, I would suggest sending it to Atur. While we travel frequently, we visit there from time to time, and have arrangements that letters may be held with the post.

In other news, yesterday evening we managed to defeat, though at considerable cost and after much destruction, an attempted invasion of Atur by a powerful force of demons. We learned only after the final victory that they had the help of a substantial group of Drow. Garlek, a nearby town, was recently assaulted by a force of orcs and ogres, which our group was also intrumental in repelling. I am further given to understand that a large orcish army is en route from the east, and will be arriving this evening, at which point our services will again be required. Accordingly, I hope to still be alive when you receive this missive. Having secured the city walls, we expect to repulse the army, though we are likely to suffer numerous casualties. Accordingly, you may consider sending east with all due speed such materiel as medical supplies, arms and armor of ordinary quality, building supplies, and the like, which are likely to be needed or having been depleted, command a good price.

Maral Glorgirn

By my hand, Thomas Cooper, scribe to Lavinia Hilltopple, Sanctified of the Structured Light, Priestess of Abadar, a true copy attest: from Variations on a Theme: A History of Sects, Denominations, Heresies, and Orders of Abadar and related Minor Dieties, author Olga Andirsdottir, p. 244-247 thereof…

Planes of Alignment

It’s been a while since I wrote anything. I can’t claim that we’ve always been busy… but when we’re not, I’ve been so glad to relax into the quiet challenge of crafting. And I’m still not sure how I feel about trying to become vastly important in a way I don’t actually understand. But excuses don’t feed the sheep, so I’ll go way back to one of the important bits.

These trips to other planes have happened enough that they’ve become just another thing to deal with, like being watched by unknown forces in times of stress. So we weren’t enormously surprised when one of the mysterious hole-in-the-landscape portals appeared. And I insist, now, on going through more or less right away. I don’t want a repeat of whatever happened with that fire plane. So off we went, and found ourselves on a plane of Good. It seemed to be occupied entirely by herds of animals training for battle, which I suppose makes sense? It must make sense, but a herd of leopards doing small-unit tactics exercises was one of the stranger things Ive seen. At any rate, the animals didn’t help much, though one of the bison became oddly attached to Victor. But we eventually found a person, who was much more helpful, though he hadn’t any idea that there was a problem. It was from him we learned that there was a summoning altar in the area. As in, an altar which allowed creatures to mark themselves as available to be called by summoning spells to other planes.

Now this is a fascinating bit. The altar does not have a fixed position, you can get to it by traveling around searching for it. And when we found it, we found that it wasn’t even entirely in that plane. In fact it exists simultaneously in planes of Law, Chaos, Good, and Evil. And the shifting of the planes had pulled the various aspects of it out of alignment with each other, so that spellcasters were not always getting summons of the alignment they expected. Another fascinating bit was when it became clear that this partial staff we’re collecting is a Staff of the Planes… and I was suddenly able to charge it even though I didn’t have 5th-level slots to burn for it. That didn’t last, of course… but it did allow us to investigate the altar on each of the planes.

What we found was that on each plane, there was a physical altar (square, stone, with writing on the sides.) On each plane one could also see another altar overlaid, but slightly shifted from the one which was physically there. There were two separate texts, one giving power to the summoner to call a creature to himself, and the other allowing creatures to bind themselves as potential summons. On Danvi (the Lawful plane), there was a book on a stand close by, full of explanation. The explanations included mention of the altars going out of alignment from time to time, and a description of the ritual needed to pull them back into alignment. This ritual needed to take place on the plane of Evil (eep…) and required one good person, one evil, one lawful, and one chaotic. One of the people would lead the ritual, the others answered at certain times, and that would be that. (Right?) Well, we learned the ritual from the book, but still had a bit of a problem, as no one in the party was chaotic. So off we went to Kithri. We figured we ought to look at the altar in each plane before trying the ritual, and hoped we could recruit a willing chaotic creature to come help with the ceremony. That was a success, we were attacked by someone who had a lot of control over the local gravity, but when we won the battle and asked her along for an adventure, she was willing. Then we went on to visit the Evil plane.

Travel there was unpleasant. But when we found the altar, the spaces for the ritual participants to stand in were clear, and we had no trouble with the ritual. Until we got to the result of the ritual. This hadn’t really been specified in the text we found. On completion of the ritual, I (I’d been leading the ritual) was glowing brightly in that plane, and frozen in place. Meanwhile I’d been pulled out of time, and was listening to unknown gods discussing the situation. As if this wasn’t disturbing enough, the gods were agreed that we couldn’t possibly handle the situation, and had been called there too soon. One of them wanted to help us, and got agreement on that. He came to me and handed me a pitcher, telling me to drink as much as I could. It was… maybe pure magic? I don’t know what it was. It was not hard to drink it at first, and the more I drank, the more I knew. But it got harder and harder to drink it. I almost lost it once, but when I thought of how much we all needed this power to survive, I kept going. An oddly Gilly sort of thought, but it worked. Eventually I couldn’t drink any more, and then I found myself in a dilemma.

I was conscious of two worlds at once. In one, I was frozen out of time, my friends were gathered around the altar where they’d been last I’d seen them, and on the altar was an enormous Storm Giant, chained and angry. His chains, where they should have been held by my Staff, were loose, and he was quickly getting free. In the other, I was in a small room, with a table in it, and a stack of blocks on the table, which were out of alignment. I knew that fixing the altar was a simple matter of aligning the blocks, but that it would take time. I also knew, and had the power to cast, an impressive number of spells which were normally (and still are) well outside my ability. I could watch both worlds at once, but I could act only in the room with the blocks, until I chose to go back and help my friends.

I was lucky. We were all lucky really… but I was particularly lucky in that I didn’t need to choose between fixing the problem and saving someone’s life. I had enough time (though barely) to get all the blocks into alignment before I needed to go back and help with the battle. And we won, and no one died… but it was the most dangerous situation we’d ever been in, by far, and it was terrifying. When the giant died, he left behind another piece of the Staff. We took our chaotic helper back to her home, and took ourselves back to Atur.

There are open questions though. The gods are clearly involved, but we don’t know which ones. In particular, it would be nice to know which god it is who gave me that pitcher… and gave us all his ‘blessing’ after our visit to the Fulcrum. Are the other candidates being pulled to different planes to fix problems, or is that a result of us having the Star, or of something else? I should’ve asked those guys from the party of the last candidate we encountered. Next time, perhaps… since apparently all the candidates but one will die. I’m not happy about that either, but it wasn’t my choice. And now that I’m here, I’ll do my best to stay alive. Thank the heavens I’ve got friends.


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