"Oh, by the way, Tenser. I wanna have Carina and Farrukh make a tuning fork for the Elemental Plane of Fire, while we're there. Just in case we ever need to come back."
Carina swallows nervously. "I, uh... kinda forgot how to do that."
This is coming up more often than I ever believed it would.
"Huh, did you ever make one in the first place? Anyway, Farrukh seems like he could make it just fine. We'll just need a bit of metal."
"I remember we needed one back at Diamond Lake... it was for something in the Whispering Cairn, I think...?"
Astraden shrugs. "It's worth a try, anyways. Given that Manzorian probably has some advanced plane-shifting spell, we're going to have some extra time on the protection spell after we negotiate."
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Tenser grimaces, gesturing to the chest. "That thing is warded against fire with every enchantment I could muster. The Countess specifically asked for something wooden. One of you pick it up and do not scratch it up."
Once this is done, he raises his arms. In one hand is clutched a large transparent diamond. "Everyone join hands. Aaand...abracadabra!"
Without so much as a flourish or flash, the observatory and archmage vanish, and the group finds itself finds itself in a whole new world. Astraden immediately completes her spell as feet and shoes start to sizzle.
Everything is alight on the Plane of Fire. The ground is nothing more than great, ever-shifting plates of compressed flame. The air ripples with the heat of continual firestorms. Mountains in the distance ooze with liquid lava, and a nearby lake bubbles with spitting magma. The group is standing before a castle slightly larger than Tenser's—a building of very old-fashioned design. Almost too old-fashioned. One of the four towers on the walls has almost completely crumbled away, and many of the parapets have broken off. A pair of massive brass gates stand proud before the party, however, gleaming with recent use.
Up above, the party hears a shout in a blustering, spitting tongue. Two heavily muscled giants fly down from the top of the wall towards the party. Each has crimson skin, smoldering eyes, and small black horns. Smoke rises in curls from their flesh. They clutch massive finely-made falchions. The pair lands before the party. As they touch the ground, their forms grow larger still, until they both stand nearly twenty-five feet tall.
"State your business," commands the left giant.
"And names," commands the right.
"And relinquish all weapons," adds the left.
"Not necessarily in that order," they say together. They do not speak with any particular menace or rudeness, but there is an unfaltering confidence in their tones, even when outnumbered by plane shifting individuals, that they will be obeyed without question.
"I can give you two out of three."
"I'm Farrukh Al'Khatel, we're here to pay the Countess a ransom for one of our friends, and there's less than a snowball's chance in, well, here that you're getting my weapons."
Carina eyes the flaming giants with a mix of wariness and discomfort.
She quietly curses herself for not doing more research on them.
"It is as Farrukh has said--we're here to negotiate the release of the sorceress known as Zalamandra." She offers a curtsy, but she doesn't take her eyes off of the flaming giants. "I am Carina."
Tanith shrugs and offers up his poleaxe, a simple dagger, and several braces of tiny knives. "Tanith."
Before headed to another plane, Eben casts eagle's splendor upon himself, since there will probably be talking required at some point.
Upon the giants request, Eben steps forward, smiling. "Of course, of course. Permit me to introduce myself, my name is Eben McTeague, and as my friends here have stated, we're here to barter for the release of our friend. It's really quite the tale of how she came to be here in the first place you know... there was this lich, trapped for thousands of years in an ancient complex...." he goes on, spinning the story of the Spire.
"My name's Astraden. I'm with them. What are your names?"
She elbows Tenser. "How can we be sure our weapons won't burn up when they touch 'em?"
Cuetzpalli clutches Kelmarchen's hilt, clearly agreeing with Farrukh. He would say his name, but doesn't want to interrupt Eben's tale.
Astraden looks around with a bit of confusion, then elbows Cuetzpalli instead. Her jab's a lot softer than the one she just used on empty air.
Before headed to another plane, Eben casts eagle's splendor upon himself, since there will probably be talking required at some point.
Upon the giants request, Eben steps forward, smiling. "Of course, of course. Permit me to introduce myself, my name is Eben McTeague, and as my friends here have stated, we're here to barter for the release of our friend. It's really quite the tale of how she came to be here in the first place you know... there was this lich, trapped for thousands of years in an ancient complex...." he goes on, spinning the story of the Spire.
The efreet stare at Eben contemptuously. "Are you attempting some sort of trickery on us?" the left one grumbles.
"We are far beyond such chicanery," grumbles the right one. "And we don't care about your life story anyways."
In response to Astraden, they declare together, "Our names are Simbal and Song. Relinquish your weapons if you wish to pass."
"Unless you want to try and come take them, you need to step off. We've killed dozens of things stronger than you. If we wanted to kill you or the Countess, we would be doing it right now."
"Farrukh! That's enough!" Carina snaps at him before turning to the two giants.
"Gentlemen, in our line of work, disarming is at best a liability, and at worst a death sentence. One time, we had to deal with our bard being kidnapped and replaced by a doppelganger, and another we were ambushed by fiends while walking to another town." Her tone is a bit shaky, but she keeps going. "And knowing our luck, another adventuring group with significantly less restraint than us will teleport in and start raising havoc for reasons known only to them."
"Please, understand that when we've dealt with circumstances such as those in the past, that disarming for us simply isn't an option. We have no interest in causing trouble for the Countess--especially when there's nothing to gain from being so belligerent."
"I will also die before I put the gift of Kord in the hands of strangers," Cuetzpalli growls, ignoring Astraden's question as rhetorical. "If they choose to end their immortal existences on this day, it is their business."
"Look, you're pretty clearly going to melt our swords and burn our bows if we give them to you."
"We have a few weapons among us that we'd rather not leave in the hands of strangers. I'm sure your mistress would be satisfied if one or two of us stayed back here with all our weapons while you escorted the rest inside."
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Eben steps back as the giants mock his tale-spinning attempt, but he's far from abashed. Rather, a new scam is spinning in his head even as a general hubub ensues as Farrukh tries to get tough (in an aside to him, Eben comments, "You know, that kinda talk works better if your voice doesn't get all...squeaky partway through...") and Carina tries to be polite (with much greater success). But Eben tries his own diversionary tactic, just in case Carina's efforts are not enough.
"And the thing is... we were told to bring weapons. By the Countess herself. Y'see (as you'd know if you'd let me finish my story before), our sorceress friend recently managed to kill a very powerful water elemental. A duke or something. And now his court has sworn vengeance upon her.She got banished here by the duke's... y'know, death-curse, but as long as she's here this whole castle is a potential site for an... elemental incursion. And no offense, it looks like your defenses..." he gestures up at the ruined towers. "Aren't what they could be. Which is why the Countess asked us to come armed when we picked Zalamandra up, so we could help defend the castle, if need be." He lowers his voice conspiratorially. "I'm sure she didn't mention it to you because she doesn't want it to look like she's afraid of... water monsters and that kinda thing, and she'd be embarrassed, but seriously, she's going to be pissed if we show up without arms and an invasion comes through before we can get Zal out of here..."
"You wouldn't want your mistress to get killed because of your negligence, right?"
The two efreet just laugh at Farrukh, and are raising their weapons when Carina begins to speak, causing them to exchange looks. They continue to weigh these words as Eben "clarifies" the need for weapons.
"Very well," the left one says at last. "Come. We are wasting time."
The gate is raised, and the efreet—shrinking themselves down to human size—lead the party inward. The party passes through a strange courtyard "garden" of strange-colored fires, some of which seem to move with a strange agency, rolling across the green-and-azure tiles like meandering beasts.
Next to one of them, they see Zalamandra. The sorceress sits crosslegged on the ground, a curious obsidian crown fixed to her head. She seems a mixture of bored and irritated, evidently entertaining herself by examining the curious living flames. Standing over her is the Countess of Coalchester, an utterly alien creature of fire and magma with a vaguely serpentine shape. One distinct difference from last time, however, is the elegant (if oddly-designed) yellow silk robe that she wears, which is studded with countless little garnets.
She bows slightly—very slightly—as the party enters. Zalamandra turns, and her face registers surprise and relief, but she says nothing.
"It is a lovely day," the Countess says. "One thing has not changed in this world: The days remain arid and dry. We take what we can get, I suppose."
"Hey Zalamandra. She been treating you okay? What's with the crown?"
Carina is visibly nervous as the party approaches the Countess, escorted by her guard. Part of it is from the sheer, alien otherness of this plane--fire dancing about of its own accord was usually the fault of a priest's hand or a wizard's, not a basic fact of life--and part of it was from how the ransom for Zalamandra could go.
One wrong move, and Zalamandra might end up suffering for it...
She offers a curtsy. "Countess of Coalchester. We're here to negotiate the ransom of the sorceress Zalamandra."
Stay business-like. They might respect that more.
Eben returns the Countess's bow, going appropriately deeper as befits acknowledging nobility. "It must be a pleasant thing for you, to once again be on your home plane after so many years in Zosiel's Tomb," he says, in reply to her opening words.
Zalamandra shrugs, then taps the crown.
"A, ah, unfortunate necessity," the Countess says to Astraden. "While this one is in my care, it is important that she not be incinerated by my home's climate. It is also important that she remain quiet."
She turns to Eben. "It is a pleasant thing, but also unsettling. The world has changed." Even in her crackling tone, it is clear that she is bitter. "A corrupt metropolis has consumed my old estate. Everything is becoming hollow. My kind have forgotten the rule of law, and nobility falls by the wayside in favor of profits. The Sarvalzuulj Nas* has arrived at last. It is pleasant and it is not." She gestures to Zalamandra. "But she has told me something of that.
"So, what ransom did you bring me? I was quite taken with a few of you when we last met." She fixes Carina, Farrukh and Eben with particularly lingering stares. "You did not bring the O'Haranson man, I see. Do you plan to trade someone else? Or will you insist on a more crude exchange?"
Carina fidgets when the Countess' stare lingers on her.
She turns to the others and nods. "We've brought something in exchange, on the recommendation of a friend. Bring up the chest."
Astraden makes an awkward bow, and tries to be "sympathetic." "Hmm. It sure must be terrible to have the rule of law break down. Losing your prior privileges."
Eben takes an odd sort of pleasure in the fact that he was one the 'would trade for you as a slave' list. He still manages to get defensive, though, when the Countess's greedy gaze reveals just who else is on that list. Carina he has no problems with, but... "Wait, Farrukh? Really? But he's not pleasant to look at!"
"But I thought me and the Countess hit it off pretty well last time."
Carina turns and gives Eben an incredulous look.
She'd rather keep us as slaves and FARRUKH being on the list is what offends you? Not the list itself?!
Tanith is equal parts relieved and offended that he wasn't considering for enslavement.
Getting the nod from Carina he presents the coffer. Realizing she probably cannot see through the lid, he opens it.
"Oh, dear." The Countess sounds amused. "Is the honor of service to a Countess something you wish to fight amongst each other for? I will not intervene, if so, though I will mention that I do have an arena for such contests."
As Tanith opens the chest, though, her expression seems to dim somewhat. "...Oh, very well. The gems and box are pretty enough." She reaches forward, grazing her hands over the chest and its contents. "And warded against flame. Very good. The City of Brass is all about sapphires and emeralds and 'artful contrast' these days." She picks up the ruby-studded chains and drapes them elegantly over her upper body. "The New Money shows no appreciation for the thematic classics."
She nods to one of the efreeti, and it steps up and takes the box from Tanith. "Do you have a spell to cast upon your servant to protect her from the heat?" she asks Carina, apparently taking her to be the group's leader. "The crown is an important reli...birthright, and I do not wish to part with it if I don't have to."
Carina looks over at Astraden. "Do we?"
"I do, but it won't help her breathe. We will need to plane shift out of here within a minute of removing the crown."
Zalamandra shoots Astraden a glower.
"- Or within a few seconds, I suppose. She would probably rather not hold her breath for that long."
"Might we intrude on your hospitality for a few more minutes while Farrukh makes a tuning fork aligned to this plane? If one of us gets sent here in the future, it would be handy to not need to rely on an archmage to stage a rescue."
"...How do I do that?"
"Well, make something metal into a rod and then split it into two prongs, I think. You could use the lava lake outside to heat it up if there's nothing hot enough in here." Astraden pulls an old key out of her backpack. "You could use this, if you don't have any metal you're willing to part with."
Farrukh shifts his Ioun Stone a bit and bends some metal.
"No, I don't think that's quite right. Anybody else got some loose metal?"
"There we go. Thanks Astraden."
"Well, that concludes our business here, yes?" Cuetzpalli leaves it unsaid that he is uncomfortable on the plane of fire, his body language says it clear enough.
Carina gives the Countess another curtsy. "Well, I believe that our business here is at an end."
"Spiny's Six, let's go home." She offers Zalamandra her hand.
Astraden gathers the group together and pulls out the fork Carina made on the Material Plane. She casts the fire-resisting spell on Zalamandra. "I can't say it was a pleasure being in such a hostile environment, but I appreciate that you made this easy. Goodbye, Countess."
Astraden motions for Zalamandra to remove the crown, and once this is done knocks the fork against her shield and takes Cuetzpalli's hand. The pure note reminds of birdsong, a plucked lutestring, or an operatic diva. Astraden closes her eyes, muttering, "Mērō ghara kō duniyā mā pharkanuhōs." When she opens them, the party is standing in . . .