GM Parrot's The Ferry and the Depths: Rappan Athuk (Inactive)

Game Master parrot familiar

Anzath ponders theft.

Bedlam drinks "tea."

Terapin chats with cops.

And all of you should check in with any remaining practical tasks or purchases you need to finish in Magnimar before you head back Aragnak's Island, where Anz will lay an egg. Then, all of you can proceed to the deepest depths of Rappan Athuk.

That morning, Bedlam does everything in his power to appropriate Kritfisher (+1 Scimitar) and Vael’s Blade (+1 Scimitar) from Anzath's rooms. The dwarf then takes them to an enchantment specialist for a rush job.
Me be in un hurray! She be married ta un dragon! Don't be want'n me nuts burnt off!

Later at the Sidewalk Café, across from The magic shop that seems to be advocating burglary, Bedlam sits with two wrapped present for the newlywed.
Kritfisher (+1 keen Scimitar), Vael’s Blade (+1 keen Scimitar).

Bedlam will present them to Anzath; once all the strangeness in the streets end peacefully.....

Bedlam writes a Note for 12, 000gp to upgrade them to +1 keen each. Congrats both in and out of game Anzath!

!!!

Anzath suddenly notices her scabbards are empty. She gasps, "I've been robbed!" and darts out the door, but not before shouting back at the gnome "I vill send my komrade de vizard. He iz better at negotiationz."

Arriving at the scene, she notices the rest of the party observing from across the way. She sees a glint of purple and gold light peeking from a bundle on Bedlam's lap and stomps over to him, "Vhat have you done!?"

Wow Bedlam, I mean, you really shouldn't have. That is super keen of you! Hahahahahah...oh. Well, I guess I gotta figure out what feat to take other than Improved Critical:Scimitar next level. But really, I don't think this is necessary, but thank you if it is sincere. But also, do you actually have the moneys to pay for it?

Bedlam has some trouble convincing the magic specialist to accept a note on the Bedlam First National as real currency, but the 8k in real gold and a few of the liberated Magnimarians vouching for the real existence of the Bedlam First get the job done. It still takes a week--there's no rushing magic. Probably due to a deft clue about the whereabouts of her gear from Trag or Aurora, Bedlam's roasted nuts are just a harmless cafe snack he's eating alongside his "tea" when he presents the handsome blades to the scaly newlywed.

Anzath hefts Kritfisher and feels an eagerness for blood and the hunt reverberating down the hilt of the fell violet blade. Vael's sword flashes obediently, but angrily, bucking against her touch while cutting the air with furious intention. The two have been perfectly reweighted for her hands, and their edges bear new-cut magic runes that thirst for explosive combat.

Bedlam, you have 8k in hard currency according to Trag (minus your crafting bucks--how much did you spend on your own gear?) and 5k stashed at the Bedlam First National. Your extravagant wedding gift will bring you down to (at most) 1k at the bank and clear your cash. I'm being generous letting you write a check from an unknown banking establishment in a major city, but hey, generosity breeds generosity. Does that all sound right to you? Also, what a wedding present! I really appreciate that I'm a nerd when I consider that the most impressive wedding gift I've heard about lately is entirely fictional.

Bedlam also has 5000gp in his bank? Huh!

Bedlam just smiles. He does not sniffle, cough a bit, or have water in his eyes.

Anzath thinks about testing the improved blades out on the nearest peasant, but, well those security guards are still right there pestering Terrapin, so she secures them for now.

"I owe you one, mad dwarf. Your next resurrektion iz on me."

She motions to the waitstaff and orders a round of Magnimar's finest for her komrades.

Bedlam raises his tea. The dwarf then frowns.
Say what now?

And all of you should check in with any remaining practical tasks or purchases you need to finish in Magnimar before you head back Aragnak's Island, where Anz will lay an egg. Then, all of you can proceed to the deepest depths of Rappan Athuk.

Trag wanted to do something with the magic school, right?

Also, if there are any magical craftsmen up at the magic school, Terapin was going to see if he could possibly exchange some ringwright commission work to get a custom staff made, if such a thing is possible without having to memorize a new sourcebook or anything. (If not, he'll probably still want to pick up a wand of cure wounds or two and either a wand of magic missile or a staff of minor arcana or some such if they're available up there, just to be more useful to the team. And possibly an immovable rod? For invisibly sleeping in hammocks 100 feet off the ground?)

Assuming Terapin manages to return from the magic store...

"The garden is this way. I hope to catch a glimpse of the oracle water spirit, but I suppose that's naive. They say it hasn't been seen since shortly after the city was founded."

Tragershen will want to walk to the garden and browse around, then go to the academy. If someone there is willing to talk to him, he'll want to chat for a while. He'll want to learn about good resources in the city, and is willing to exchange some of what they've experienced in the dungeon in exchange.

Terapin:

Immovable Rod: there isn't one currently available for sale, but Tragershen has the feats to craft you one for half price, and I don't think it would even take terribly long.

You may trade ring services for staff services, sure. There's no discount or anything, especially since staff crafting is rarer and more difficult than ring forging, but the ring skillz will get you in the door. Staves are complicated, so yeah, you might have to do some research.

Here are the clunky rules

First thing you'll notice is that they are effing expensive, but the work around that makes them viably affordable is splitting the cost of a casting by using multiple charges. For some reason, the Pathfinder-official staves almost never do this in a rational way, so they tend to be overpriced. Cut the most expensive and second most expensive spell by 5-10 charges and suddenly it ain't so bad.

Some examples I've made, including your old friend Hasta's tricked-out staff that she never got to use...

Tragershen: will send you stuff next!

As they walk away from the magic shop scene, Anzath shrugs at Terapin, "I guess you did not really vant it."

She then smiles and ruffles his hair, "Ve vill find a vay."

She’s happy to escort the vizards to the garden and check out the fountain or vhatever.

First thing you'll notice is that they are effing expensive, but the work around that makes them viably affordable is splitting the cost of a casting by using multiple charges. For some reason, the Pathfinder-official staves almost never do this in a rational way, so they tend to be overpriced. Cut the most expensive and second most expensive spell by 5-10 charges and suddenly it ain't so bad.

.

Oof, yeah, looks like 10k gold isn't as much cash as I'd thought it was when it comes to staves. Nevermind all that, then! He'll pick up those wands if they're common enough to be readily available, though; nevermind those too if they're not.

Terapin shrugs a little shamefacedly. "I didn't know they'd have a gnome. Very difficult to outsmart a gnome, you know. Very valuable asset for any team."

Bedlam walks with the others as they finalize their shopping trip in the big city.
We be go'n back ta da Ferry; den ta da Dungeon?

Re: wands--you should be able to get your hands on some. What are you shopping for?

Tragershen peers into the waters of the fountain for a long while. Occasionally, he senses a tug at his intuition, as if there was some presence in the water... but it is so faint. So far away. He turns from it in something that is not quite sadness when some students show up and boisterously throw coins into the water, asking the Lady for blessings for their young and transient loves.

At the academy, Tragershen is met at the door with an, "Ah, we've been expecting you. Come in, Doctor Tragershen." Trag's knowledge of Rappan Athuk and his advanced mastery of the arcane arts opens many doors, especially as he's an expert diviner. He's asked to attend tea with the faculty of divination, where several people in outlandish but tasteful wizardly garb pour a frothy, effervescent "tea" that warms the heart and sharpens the wits.

They and Tragershen warily exchange bits of information. The faculty is intrigued by the account of the demonic hospital under the Demon's Gullet and explain that they've long suspected some foul presence in the old subterranean wards. They show due respect when Tragershen discusses the party's dips into the main dungeon and their encounters with the Orcus priests--few return from such. And, eventually, they offer some information back to him.

The Dean of Divination, a grey and truly old elf, explains, "We aren't picky about alignments here, Dr. Tragershen, but you must understand that evil simply does not play well with others, and so the evil tend to weed themselves out. Dungeons are more fitting places for evil than academies."

He gives the elf a hard look, almost as if he can smell the draconic pozole on your breath.

"We had a man arrive long ago--a powerful transmuter and crafter of golems, he was. Banth was his name. After getting in trouble for dabbling in the anatomies of his undergraduates (a transmuter, you see), he absconded with a favorite apprentice and a great deal of university property. In his arrogance, he left a note saying he was heading for Rappan Athuk. You might find them there, as he's found it a more congenial home than the Seer's Stone. This was all long, long ago, but I occasionally scry on him to see what he's doing. When his powerful will can't buck my curiosity, I find he's still out there, tinkering in (and with) the darkness. Beware of him. Kill him, if you can."

Then he leans back in his chair and sips some "tea." He sighs and continues, "There's one legend that almost gets me, even at my age, down into that dungeon. There's a story of an oracle that knows everything about that fell place. Rumor has it that the creature is a floating, disembodied head. It is, apparently, a powerful diviner and oracle. I would like to meet such a creature and discuss the past, present, and future. If you should find such a being, be so kind as to inform me of its whereabouts, and I will find some way to compensate you..."

Tragershen enjoys the tea and the company. He tries to stay focused on the dungeon itself, to minimize any deep queries into the relationship with the dragon (his staff is safely tucked into his pack). He also will not reveal who Sylvester was, just a mysterious patron of another of the group.

He thanks them for the information on Banth and the oracle. He will ask "Do you know if the apprentice went willingly?" When they mention the note he left, he shakes his head. "Typical transmuter. He didn't understand the power of that bit of information, and what someone well versed could do with it."

He will still make it back to the inn for dinner with the rest. Trag will promise to visit the academy again, should he survive their next delve.

At dinner, he'll let the others know what he learned about Banth and the Oracle, as well as where they can shop for magical goods. He'll even suggest items that he could craft for anyone that would help fight transmuters or golems.

I can never tell if we are on script; or a bit off...lol. Great information either way!

Bedlam looks at the elf wizard.
Dem be guud items ta be hav'n. Git ta crafting elf! Har, har!

"Do you know if the apprentice went willingly?"

"I don't know. I guess it might depend on whether you think someone in their first decades of life is competent to make life decisions. Sometimes I think everyone younger than 80 should be kept in a safe and monitored environment with no real power or choice until they're properly seasoned. But I digress. I doubt she was dragged out there against her will, but I also suspect she had no idea what she was doing. Bring her back if you can--a promising student, it'd be good to try to reclaim her talent. Her name is Kupra."

Bedlam: there is no script! Or rather, I think the closest thing to a script would be to do a dungeon dive. And it's been months and months since y'all did one of those... but hopefully you'll be down the hole again soon!

"Soundz like ve have bounty to hunt."

Tragershen pages carefully through the three scorched spellbooks.

Bedlam joins him. One of Bedlam's pages sticks. Bedlam goes to lick his finger... thinks better of it, instead exercises patience, and lifts the stubborn leaf with his fingernails. Soon the two of them have the books indexed by spell level, ready for easy copying.

Bedlam studiously copies spell into his formula book.

1st: (10gp)
10. Expeditious Retreat
11. Jump
12. Obscure Poison

2nd (40gp)
6. Bear's Endurance
7. Bull's Strength
8. False Life
9. Resist Energy
10. Darkvision
11. Owl's Wisdom
12. Protection from Arrows

3rd (90gp)
3. Gaseous Form
4. Protection from Energy
5. Tongues

Bedlam nudges Trag.
Ye be gott'n 530gp fer me scribings. Me fergit 'bout dese.

Re: wands--you should be able to get your hands on some. What are you shopping for?

Just some Cure Wounds and Magic Missile ones. Terapin's figuring on making himself more useful while he scurries around the back row.

Cool--neither of those spells are on the Summoner list, so you'll need to use your very-high UMD skill to activate them, which shouldn't be too difficult (DC 20 to activate a wand). Each wand costs 750 GP (for level one CL 1 spells).

So--the party can stay in Magnimar for a while, or you can head back to 'Gnak's place until egg time. Trag can craft away and, unless he's starting something super ambitious, be finished with most things by then, I think. If everyone's ready, I'll fast forward to the laying and then whisk you off to the doors of the dungeon again. If not, let me know what chores remain in the big city!

After Bedlam's gift, I think I'll commission the boots, purchase some potions, and possibly a wand of clw if Aurora neds one.

Aurora enjoys herself during the group's stay in Magnimar, when she is not busy keeping Nico out of trouble. A great deal of window shopping is conducted with only a small amount of true commerce taking place with the cleric — and she indulges as well in a few visits to various cafés and Lowcleft theatres; the more outré the showings, the better.

The antediluvian pages of the Tome of Understanding are pored over at mornings and evenings, and whatever chapters of it remain will no doubt be utterly devoured by the Nethysian during the group's return voyage.

Anzath indulges in the local Magnimarian cousine, often times eating much more than her fill. She starts to put on some weight, and her belly quickly grows round. The maitre d' of many a fine establishment begin to fear her exotic demands for fried pickles and peanut butter ice cream.

Also, @Tragershen, if we're taking some magic item crafting months while Anzath's taking some baby dragon crafting months, any rings you're needing? I was thinking of trying to replace the ring of featherfall with a ring of flight if you've got fly and making such a thing is possible, but I can't find a ring of flight in the Items list and might be tripping over some kind of crafting rule that only lets them be boots or capes or sommat. But if it's possible, why would Terapin make one when he can make two for only twice the price, yeah? And if it's not, there's a bunch of other spells that could fit into a lovely Terapin Aragnakson original ring if a professional caster wanted. (He'd loop Aurora into this too if you could also Ringify divine magic, but I think you can't?)

Flying is indeed already handled by boots, capes, wands and potions of fly, and whatnot, and I don't quite see the point of adding a custom ring to the mix when Trag himself can handle the crafting of boots and capes and whatnot. But I guess I don't see the harm in this case, as long as the cost is proportional to the others.

As for ringifying the divine, that should be cool I think, with Aurora providing the godly spark... within reason. No Ring of Cure Light Wounds, and check to see how much similar effects cost in non-rings, and follow the erm following guidelines on the use of your feats:

And as someone who walked the long dark road of crafting magic items with Hasta, good luck! I'll try not to veto too many cool ideas!

And so, the adventurers wile away their days in the big little city of Magnimar, gathering information, friends, pickles, and peanut butter ice cream. Anzath is indeed eating at a prodigious rate, but all can see where it's going. While being pregnant is never easy, let's face it: an egg makes a heck of a lot more sense than a baby. It's smooth and well-balanced, doesn't kick, no muss, no fuss. As a parrot, I'm not sure why you mammals ever changed.

But you did, so Anzath is going to need a little help to get this thing out of her.

You return to Aragnak's Castle on Aragnak’s Island.

Feel free to add any forgotten bits and pieces from the city, but I think it's time to get back to the dungeon. Which means, baby time.

d100 for sea encounter: 1d100 ⇒ 24

Nothing interrupts your return journey. Captain Kolvio's misgivings seem to have been assuaged by his red-dragon-sized expense account and all the comforts that the wharves of Magnimar have to offer to a well-heeled seaman. He's not the only one who is looking a little more evil than he used to, and it's not just that he's now decked out in a red silk cape over a coordinating black wool greatcoat. His bushy bead has been shaved to a wicked goatee, and his mustache is waxed to a rapier's point. The crew is similarly looking much less like smugglers from the dregs of the coastline and more like smugglers from the dregs of the coastline trying to look elegant. Many an epaulette and shining button flashes from the remotest corners of the rigging, and who's to say but that there's a kind of stylishness in the overwrought chaos of their garb.

As night falls, you see a red light glowing above the Castle of Aragnak: a beacon guiding you home. Is it the dragon himself? Or is it a signal fire tended by his minions? You never find out: it fades into darkness once you’ve traversed the deadly reefs that surround his inner sanctum.

A boat comes out of the fortress to greet you: the hobgoblins are starting a little piracy on the side. They’ve captured a sleek coastal patrol vessel. The first ship in Aragnak’s Navy guides you in to the harbor, where an honor guard awaits you.

The dragon himself rises from his throne, simultaneously shrinking into his semi-human form and walking towards you. His fang shift into a grim, glad smile as he embraces Anzath and gives her a belly rub.

“I won’t let you from my sight again until the child is laid, Dark Crystal.”

After a glorious meal (the hobs are getting better at cooking, Bedlam notes, although they still have much to learn about garlic).

The dragon confers with his consort: “While it pains me to pain you with thoughts of pain: the egg will be ready in a moon’s time, or so, and I thought, since we are going to cut it from thy lovely self, that we should pick an auspicious laying-day for the child. The last day of the month of Octave is the full moon and the Night of All Hallows, the Witches Sabbath-of-Sabbaths, the Day of the Plunge into Darkness, and, according to Draconic Lore, the Demiurge’s Birthday. Shall we remove the child, staunch your blood, and lay the egg among my gold and my heat on that day, or do you prefer another festival, Matrix of the Apocalypse?”

The rest of you are free to disperse to the laboratories, training rooms, bedchambers, navy ship, whatever you’d like.

I wanted to consult with Anz about the Halloween egglaying, but if acceptable to the mother, we’ll spin the clock a bit to get to that most auspicious day (my IRL birthday), get the egg laid, and then get all of you back to the dungeon where you belong.

"It seemz, my love, de perfect day to velkome de Harbinger of Destruktion."

Happy Birthday. My wife’s is Nov 1st (Day of the Dead), and our anniversary is Oct. 30th. So, big Scorpio energy round these parts.

Uncle Bedlam passes out cigars to everyone in the Ferry. He manufactured them himself. He is an Alchemist. It's true!

Flying is indeed already handled by boots, capes, wands and potions of fly, and whatnot, and I don't quite see the point of adding a custom ring to the mix when Trag himself can handle the crafting of boots and capes and whatnot. But I guess I don't see the harm in this case, as long as the cost is proportional to the others.

Okay, by my math it would take two weeks and cost about 15,000gp of raw materials to forge a ring of flying, so I'll have to hold off on it for the time being unless Aragnak's got so much magical detritus lying around that he wouldn't mind Terapin gathering up 6,000gp of it and weaving it into a ring to carry off with him. (But whoa, let me know if he does!) But that'll be what he does the next time they have any downtime if he comes into 6,000gp in the meanwhile.

Terapin isn't being particularly helpful on his own, but as a Master Summoner, he's having the Eidolon provide a moving litter for Anzath if ever she's too tired or sore of foot to walk where she wants to, and he's been summoning pixies to fetch any foodstuffs she wants or provide various massaging or bathing assistance as required while he waits dutifully outside her door. Unless she asks to be alone, in which case he can usually be found hanging out with the Eidolon either in the library (does Aragnak have a library?) or drifting around and above the island and looking for picturesque spots for picnics (and making a mental map of the entire island and castle facility).

The Eidolon, for its part, has changed appearance ever so slightly, looking a little bit less like a silver Sea Turtle with wings instead of flippers and a little bit more like a silver Dragon Turtle with wings instead of flippers. Not like, completely, but a little bit. It's still mostly adorable.

Anzath very much appreciates being doted upon, and she shows her appreciation by pretty much treating Terrapin like a pet.

When the laying day nears, she requests that Aurora and Tragershen be in the room.

Okay, by my math it would take two weeks and cost about 15,000gp of raw materials to forge a ring of flying, so I'll have to hold off on it for the time being unless Aragnak's got so much magical detritus lying around that he wouldn't mind Terapin gathering up 6,000gp of it and weaving it into a ring to carry off with him. (But whoa, let me know if he does!) But that'll be what he does the next time they have any downtime if he comes into 6,000gp in the meanwhile.

Going by the rule that you should pay a similar price for similar effects, here are some comparisons. Winged Boots give 15 mins of Fly (60 ft) in three 5 minute chunks/day for 16k. Broom of Flying gives 9 hours of Overland Flight (40 ft) a day for 17k gold. I think your ring should have one or the other effect for the same price as the Wondrous Item, or it can cost more for something more powerful. Wings of Flying have no time limit, full 60ft fly speed, and cost 27k gold, for instance. Carpet of Flying comes in at 20k.

Big dragon egg laying post in the works! Should be able to get it here tomorrow!

Going by the rule that you should pay a similar price for similar effects, here are some comparisons. Winged Boots give 15 mins of Fly (60 ft) in three 5 minute chunks/day for 16k. Broom of Flying gives 9 hours of Overland Flight (40 ft) a day for 17k gold. I think your ring should have one or the other effect for the same price as the Wondrous Item, or it can cost more for something more powerful. Wings of Flying have no time limit, full 60ft fly speed, and cost 27k gold, for instance. Carpet of Flying comes in at 20k.

Up to you as GM! The magic item creation rules are super wonky; going by the formula in magic item creation, a ring of invisibility should be 8000 to make, but the item page lists 10000. But then, a Ring of Blinking (same spell and caster level as Fly) ought to be 15000 by the exact same formula, and the item page lists it as only 13500. And, I'd assume a Flying Carpet would be more expensive than the Wings because it can carry more people, but for some reason it's less, and neither seems to follow the formulas given for magic item creation in the first place. I'm quite content to give up entirely and go with whatever price you think it ought to be, if that's not dumping extra work on your plate. I get the feeling the magic item creation page was written before any of the magic equipment was finalized and then was never revisited after, you know?

But, I'm talking too much about rings. This is an Anzath chapter, I think!

It's ok to talk items ooc! Anz stuff will happen. The first paragraph in the magic iteam creation section on pricing a new magic item starts with this: "Many factors must be considered when determining the price of new magic items. The easiest way to come up with a price is to compare the new item to an item that is already priced, using that price as a guide. Otherwise, use the guidelines summarized on Table: Estimating Magic Item Gold Piece Values." Because we have like five different magic items to use as a guide, we'll follow the comparison method. Pick the item that is closest to the effect you want. Tell me what changes you'd like to make. Then, I'll set a price that is lower if your item is weaker, higher if it is stronger. And I agree, the basic 5x5 flying carpet is probably too cheap and incredibly useful for small characters (200lb weight limit is its major drawback)... but a 10x10 half-party-carrying 800lb carpet costs 60k, so there's that.

The month of Octave passes in the wicked festal atmosphere of Aragnak’s Island. All are free to wander as you wish, of course, but I’ll assume for now that the party… parties. Some of you have day jobs doing various crafts. Others have a chance to examine hobgoblin culture up close. The hobs split their time between goblin things (raiding, hunting, digging, looking at shiny objects, worshiping dark gods [Tiamat, mostly], castle repair, goatherding, drugs, fast courtships) and hobby things (woodcarving poorly, chanting because singing is hard, drum circle, hobjogging around the island, and games of dominance like rummy and croquet). They seem to love it here, and they express their love by multiplying and holding beachside barbeques of goats and/or captive humans from the raids.

As the moon wanes and then waxes again, the castle’s renovations near completion. The ancient fortification’s battlements are newly repaired and fortified against attack from land or air. The storerooms are stuffed with provisions. Zorzunar plans elaborate trap patterns that occasionally misfire on some unfortunate hobgob. But population growth trends are strongly positive.

And the full moon rises with all the spirits of the restless dead on Hallow’s Eve, casting its pale light upon yet another addition to the island’s burgeoning populace. Before proceeding to the laying, Aragnak reminds you all that he will be stuck on his nest for an unknown period of time—dragon eggs being magic, it might take days or years to hatch. He gathers the party and leads them deep into the depths of the castle, reaching the throne room through the labyrinth.

His gold has been heaped in a giant cone supported by piles of deftly arranged magic items with the instinctive and chaotic perfection of birds. A ring of bonfires burns around the nest, the smoke disappearing through near-invisible vents in the ceiling. The flames fan mighty gusts of wind that swirl up to the roof. The whole place radiates heat and fell ambition.

The Drake Lord of Rivenrake begins to change from his humanoid form to that of the red dragon, the awful and terrible might of his power swelling with his body. Zorzunar chants prayers to Tiamat, calling for her blessings upon this moment and the beginning of the Reconquista of the whole world, lost for 65 million years!

The dragon plucks Anzath off the ground, laying her down in the center of the nest. His eyes do not meet hers… he pants with excitement. His maw opens and flames flicker around his wicked teeth. Then, he bites through her belly, deftly, swiftly, without warning—his burning teeth impaling his dark queen, meeting just in front of her spine, just behind the egg. The dragon twists his neck, rending her flesh with his razor fangs without mercy or caution, all his attention concentrated on the egg’s safety. Anzath’s blood pours from her body so quickly that her screams weaken almost before they begin. The dragon lays the egg in the carefully prepared center of the nest, then he almost absently flings Anzath to Aurora and Zorzunar.

Aurora pours healing magic into the battered body of Anzath. She holds her staff and nearly casts Breath of Life, such is her concern over the slayer-queen’s survival. But Anzath’s shattered bone, brawn, and organs reknit, and her skin begins to sew itself together. Her eyes, for the nonce empty and cold, flutter and focus once more. The pain recedes, but the wickerwork scarring left after magical healing now tattoos her torso, tracing patterns under and among the crimson scales. She is left wan and weary, but breathing.

The party’s attention turns from the slayer to the dragon-lord, who curls himself over the incandescent, glowing egg. His eyes are half-closed in bliss and glory. He growls and groans and mutters obscurely in Draconic.

After some time, one eye opens and turns to Anzath. “My gratitude is beyond words. You live. Go hence. I will be watching.”

Then he falls back into his tail-twitching trance. It’s like his whole being is concentrated on that egg. He sees no other creatures. He cares for no other world but that contained in the arc of the shell torn from Anzath’s living flesh. What mere human mind can describe the feelings that a dragon must have upon its nest? Without human meaning, without human feeling, the dragon lurks. His fire-fangled features dangle down over its own precious will and flesh made manifest.

Lolly carefully carries Anzath up and out of the labyrinth, all the way up to her chamber in the central keep of the castle, the ever-present Tam close behind, eyes wide, but silent. The party follows closely and sees Anzath laid safely in bed. While the rest of the party disperses either to the hobgoblin festival in the great hall below or to their own rooms, Aurora pulls a cushioned chair to the bedside and settles in for long night’s vigil, with Nico quickly tucking herself to sleep in her wings. And Anzath also sleeps soundly. Her breath strengthens. Soon, the concern passes out of the eyes of the cleric. Soon, they close. She pulls her legs into the capacious chair, one built for a huge man, and curls up. All sleep.

Dawn rises on All-Souls Day. The dungeon beckons!

Ok, Aragnak is out for the foreseeable future! And you’re all free to use his castle and his boats as you see fit. While Zorzunar has orders to remain in the castle with most of the hobgoblins, you may also request assistance from the Army of the Red as you’d like—you might get an escort of hobbos, for instance. Is it time to return to RAPPAN ATHUK?!? Probably…

Before we go, let’s talk about alignment. I know that Anzath is embracing evil (literally… and incubating it!), but is it fair for me to run it so that everyone who has signed on to the dragon’s apocalyptic plot and eaten a teenage prisoner of war for supper and abetted a hobgoblin army’s takeover of an island fortress is, at best, Neutral? It’ll be important if someone tries to stop you by casting Protection from Good and the like.

The new Bedlam glances at those he calls friends. The dwarf relishes their newfound abilities, allies and altered outlook.
Let's go s'ploring!

NE; although the Evil is more gray than black.

Grey is fine! All the better, really. And you can work towards being Neutral or even Good again by helping the weak, slaying the evil, and doing it for reasons that are unselfish.

Terapin's still hovering around the CG mark; his situational awareness isn't great, but his going along with the dragon has been driven heavily by Aragnak's position thus far as a breaker of chains and an opponent of a demon. If there was some innocent settlement on the island before the dragon and the hobgoblins came and took over, he wasn't aware of it; thus far all he's seen from the dragon is slaves freed and demonic invasions opposed. If that changes, his relationship with his adopted father might change too, but there hasn't yet been a choice between free peoples and tyranny that Aragnak didn't come down on the right side of, from what he's seen. He views the dietary choices of dragons and hobgoblins with a naturalist's fascination; it's not something he'll mimic out in the world or anything, but he knows very few vegetarians, and talking with animals most consider non-intelligent has been a big part of his life, so a dragon doing to a slaver what the shopkeep at Zelkor's Ferry does to a chicken who's never wronged anybody never struck him as the moral event horizon it may be to others. Both are large carnivorous animals preying on smaller and weaker species, and in Aragnak's case, the small had at least acted in a way to justify capital punishment in most ethical societies, where as the shopkeep's chicken dinner has never been anything but a massacre.

He didn't much like that egg-laying technique, though, if he was in the room. He's seen a lot of farmers assist with other species' labor before, and his father's manner left a lot to be desired. It's been noted.

What? If Bedlam isn't chaotic, I don't know what is.

Anzath fights with all her strength and will to remain conscious while Aragnak tears into her, removing the egg. She chokes on her own blood, but still is able to behold the glorious egg before being tossed aside. She knew it wouldn't be pleasant, but the dejection is the last pain she feels before slipping unconscious.

When she awakes, she smiles to see Aurora at her bedside. The cleric has always been a reliable reassurance. "I vill alvayz protekt you, she vows, then passes out again.

It is difficult for her to leave the island, with her unhatched child there, but she knows Aragnak is a dedicated father, and he knows more about roosting than she, and the hobs have done well to fortify the island. When they leave, she seems less regal, more like her old self.

Agreed; but, I really thought going CE would be a bit unnerving to the rest of the party....lol.

Upon returning from Magnimar, Tragershen finds a quiet place to sit in the dragon’s lair. He leaned his flaming staff against the wall to provide abundant light. He spreads out his inking supplies and opens the last journal book he was working and continues his narrative.

With their travels documented and the questionable draconic activities segregated in their own tome, the elf stops and rubs his eyes. He considers for several long minutes the merits of sharing the tome with the dragon storyline with others such as Sylvester. He tries to justify it to himself by telling himself the journals are meant to document Rappan Athuk, so that others can use the knowledge to combat other demon lords, or finish the assault on Orcus should he and his friends fall. In truth, he knows that some of their choices are of questionable moral bends, and he’s concerned about how that will be received. He carefully cleans his inking equipment and stows it. He has time to decide, since it will be likely be a while before they return to civilization, if they return at all. Tragershen returns to his crafting as he waits for the time to return to the depths of Rappan Athuk.

Terapin's still hovering around the CG mark

Alignment is hard and notoriously clunky. I mean--is Terapin's assessment of morality and how he feels inside what makes him Good? Is it how he assesses the motivations of others (thinking that Aragnak is anything but Evil is a mistake [daddy did enslave every survivor of the battle on both sides--they were given to and then freed or massacred by Anzath]), but does the error or ignorance absolve our summoner of his complicity? Or is morality determined by the context of his actions: plotting to rob a law-abiding magic shop is one thing, but joining a monarcho-dracono-fascist irredentist (family) campaign to reclaim the homelands of the dinosaurs (namely, everywhere) through conquest (albeit one starting with a conquest of hell itself)--could a paladin sworn to destroying evil red dragons not smite thee for this? Or one sworn to ending cannibalism/humanoids eating humanoids, end stop, no nuance (the vegan paladin would be a terrifying character, but could she smite your GM, who tries sometimes to be Good over chicken dinner?). Not to mention the impossible question of how much flex Chaotic adds to Good.

Upshot: I'm not gonna legislate Pin's alignment when I don't know the right answers to the above questions myself, but I think "hovering CG, but getting mixed up with an Evil crowd and in need of some Goodness to maintain position" is a fair warning.

Tomorrow, I'm throwing you all back into the dungeon!!

If it helps, I think we'll probably head down the same hole we came out of into Level 2 Room 10 (the 'shroom room). Then we'll head over to Room 7 and go down those stairs. That should get us right into some fresh stuff!

Only Pharasma can judge.

Addendum for Terapin: I know I also gotta factor in how you took care of the freedfolk. That was Good.

Tragershen: Will get you there! Might be some stuff to attack you along the way.