"Ah yes, mortals and your petty desires for power." The elf mutters under his breath as a cloud of algebra detaches itself from his throat makes two circulations around his forehead and returns. "Yes the power will be distributed evenly. And as the devil said there will be a noticeable change."
The angel looks at each of you its serene countenance twisted in terrible worry. "You can elect to increase your own personal power through great deeds and hard work. As time goes on you can make the power your own. There is no need for calculated murder!"
"I have no need of murder. I merely asked the inevitable question. Death is a fact of our existence, angel. Calm yourself." Tak's eyes betray a cold, reptilian outlook on life.
Oterisk chuckles a little at the impudence or the callousness of the elf. He couldn't be exactly sure. It was better to keep things impersonal. "It required the cooperation of gods to cage Rovagug in the first place. It took the cooperation of mortals to kill Asmodeus, and any of us thinking of accomplishing an undefined quest against unknown opposition using the untrained weapon of divinity is asinine. Even if Asmodeus picked a great fool as one of his heirs, hopefully the other three would balance it out."
He pounded the butt of his fauchard on the granite below with a sense of finality. "I suppose we should get on our way. Our enemies have had four hours to prepare while we listened to something that could be explained in five minutes. We are woefully behind schedule. Anyone else have any questions they would like to ask?" The orc looked at the other three with an intensity that betrayed his heart. He was definitely angry, but he wasn't going to take it out on anyone here.
"I merely need to retrieve my companion and I am ready to depart. I presume he will be awake now that this meeting is complete?" Tak asks the tribunal.
Lilia looks at the three strangers. "Get us there, and I am prepared to judge."
Thoughtfully rubbing his beard Kranoc nods in agreement with the Orc Well said. Now, as to the question of the tasks laid out before us. Once we enter through that door you stated that we will be transported to Boneyard were we must seek out the four souls that were responsible for The Hoofed One's death. Can you provide us with their names? Also once we have located and judged the four in question, does the will state in what order we must retrieve each half of the Dark Lords wings? Or method of transportation to Heaven or Abaddon? Quietly Kranoc waits for a response to his questions. Once they have been answered he hesitantly nods. I am ready then. The large man intones to the other Shards of Asmodeus.
The angel looks down frowning and answers Kranoc's question.
"The name of the heroes are as follows; Sir Quentin Bladesworn, Half Elf Paladin. Vikanya the Graceful, Oracle sworn to Desna and wife of Sir Quentin. Faestus Fargovo the clever rogue and Telfin Berrypeel the witty and powerful summoner."
The fiend scans the massive document carefully before answering. "No particular order as far as I can tell. The method of transportation to those realms appears to be left to you. Though the boneyard leads to most planes including those two."
"When you feel prepared to face the boneyard feel free to step through the door way. We are your legal advisers and may be called upon for aid for the duration of your tasks." The elf says "We can only advise and only in a limited sense. We mayy be able to provide more insight into those who are to be judged though the will limits that form of aid as well. More will be revealed once you find one or more of the souls to be judged."
Tak nods, then flips over the cube to retrieve Ushan.
"Hmmm. I think the rogue might be a bit easier to judge. Why don't we start with him?"
Oterisk takes the elf's cue and turns to head for the door. "We can go in any order you like, it matters not to me. As long as we get our business done."
Seeing that no one else seemed to have a problem just walking around the edges of the cube, that's what Oterisk decided to do as well. Learn and adapt, that he could do.
As all of you leave the table to retrieve or prepare in your own ways the figures seem to have disappeared from the table along with the massive document when you turn back around to see them.
The elf however appears to be standing, or perhaps floating it is hard to tell with the long robe he wears, next to the door. As you approach he opens the door to nowhere. Beyond the threshold is a thick gray fog making it impossible to see much of what lies beyond. A terrible chill comes from it and a cacophony of voices come from it. Some the laughter of angels, some the terrible cries of much worse things, and even the sickening sounds of crunching bones and ripping flesh.
Let us be about our business then. The stoic viking replies, hefting his spear as he makes his way towards the door. Just before he crosses the threshold of the archway he pauses for a moment in consideration. In my service to Gorum I have killed many men... and even more when I served the Aspis. I wonder if I shall meet them again in the boneyard. Shivering at the thought, Kranoc takes a deep breath and steps through the archway towards the fog, screams and darkness.
Oterisk nods in assent with Kranoc and follows him into the doorway. The strange noises that surround him as he enters unnerve him. Some of them he is used to, like the crunching of bones and ripping of flesh, but it was the laughter of angels that particularly disturbed him. Curse those angels, laughing and looking down on everyone like they have some sort of secret.
Lilia had never engaged in planar travel before. It's wasn't a pleasant feeling, or perhaps just this particular planar travel wasn't pleasant.
Her magical defenses still had plenty of time left, despite the droning explanation earlier, so she as ready as possible to approach the mission.
Stepping through the door seems just like that, stepping through. You never thought you'd know what it was like to be standing in the boneyard alive and the adventurous part of you feels slightly thrilled at this sudden invasion of life into death's own realm. Your feet come into contact with soft soil and the first of your senses beyond touch to come into focus is your sense of smell. The first smell that comes before you is that of freshly turned earth like the black rich stuff you find around graves or on the edges of fetid swamps.
You have to shield your eyes momentarily as you find that the boneyard is not the dim twilit place you might have expected but sunny and pleasant like an autumn day. Green grass grows all around you quite cheerfully and for an instant you suspect you were just the subject of an overly elaborate practical joke. But as your vision comes into focus and your senses come back you see more of the truth. There is no sun that you can see but a massive terrifying moon hovering over you staring balefully down wearing grim face of madness.
All around you are gravestones. Thousands upon thousands of gravestones. Lined up and neatly ordered some with flowers upon them, some brand new as if the stone was just hewn yesterday, and some so old and so ancient to be little more than irregularly shaped boulders with the scribblings of a dead language carved into them with a sharper harder stone. All of these stratch as far as the eye can see on all sides a poignant contrast to the green grass that waves in the cool gentle breeze.
To your right is a long stone spire that towers towards the heavens. It is bleach white but does not glow as you could imagine such a tower to. Instead it reminds you of the color of bones.
Above tracing the sky in thin graylines are thousands of shapes, ghostly and sometimes winged following in neat lines towards some ineffable destinations as they cross cross among one another.
The only sign of life is a single human man wearing a straw hat that covers a thick mane of red hair. He is some distance from you straight ahead. There is also what appears to be a town on the horizon or, given the nature of this place, a collection of tombs.
The sorcerer's stomach dropped as she reappeared on the other side of the door, not knowing what was waiting for her. She was taken aback by the pleasant weather of the new plane.
She immediately turned to look for signs of life, her eyes resting on the humanoid in front of her. She decided to add yet another layer of protection before the group engages the stranger, and she casts a spell, causing her cheeks to blush a healthy red for a moment.
"Who wants to ask him for directions," she asked the others, with a smirk on her lips.
Tak steps through the portal, followed by a young Tyrannosaur marked by an elven symbol painted on its head. He pauses as the planar travel seems to make his insides scramble, then steps forward and calmly vomits at the side of the path.
"I do not enjoy that form of travel."
Seeing the man on the horizon and hearing Lilia's question, he shrugs. He strides forward toward the man, his t-rex at his side. When he is within earshot, he calls out. "Hail stranger. We are travelers come to judge the dead. Can you offer directions?"
Quickly moving forward Kranoc marches past Tak'Vellos. In this land there is but one judge of the dead. I'm not sure the elf could have chosen a poor turn of phrase. As the Ulfen draws closer to the red haired man, Kranoc raises one hand in a sign of peace. Forgive the elf's words sir, He is new to this land and unfamiliar with the customs. I am Kranoc and I have come here seeking the final resting place of Sir Quentin Bladesworn. Can you help me, or direct me to someone who can?
As you make your way through the graveyard to the man certain details become more apparent to you. Firs the mans clothes appear ragged, little more than snatches of rags hanging off of dried dessicated flesh.
He appears to be digging a grave. And when you close he turns to you with a gaunt and skeletal face with skin scratching tightly over his skull. Where eyes should be are two empty eye sockets. His body bears no open wounds though the clear rope bruises wrapped around the mans neck give a fair indication that he was hanged at least once in his life.
He smiles a cracked grin of black and yellow teeth and cheerfully addresses you in a voice that sounds as if it should be coming from some ancient tomb. "G'day! A'hm sorry you moind repeatin that! Bit hard o'hearin since me ears done dropped off some months ago! You'll have to talk loudah!"
Oterisk seems irritated, but speaks loudly and clearly at the dead man as per his request. "We've come looking for some people. Can you direct us to where they might be found, or tell us who can?!"
Lilia looks around at the others, wondering if this is some ruse from the obviously long-dead human. She waited for the obviously honey tongued Kranoc to follow up the conversation.
"Lots of people here mate! More coming in all the time! You're going to have to be more specific!"
Yes of course sir. I suppose in your case the people are dieing to get helped Eh? Guffing the Ulfen man continues Im hoping you can help us locate several newly arrived souls. Their names are Sir Quentin Bladesworn, Half Elf Paladin. Vikanya the Graceful, Oracle sworn to Desna and wife of Sir Quentin. Faestus Fargovo the clever rogue and Telfin Berrypeel the witty and powerful summoner.
"Don't think I know the names! They do something worth notin!"
"These are the souls who slew Asmodeus." Tak's dry voice is flat, as he smacks Ushan's nose back as the t-rex leans forward to sniff the dead man, probably with the intention of a snack.
"Whoi didn't ya jes say so! Everyone knows them! Only bloke who was ever more famous than them was that one bloke who stole fire from the gods round here somewhere! Think he's still chained to a rock round here. Quite a decent chap when the rocs aren't tearing him limb from limb! But, roight roight gimme a minute ta think!"
The dead man leans on his shoulder a bit and stares deeply into nothing before a second before he clicks his tongue.
"Well, they moight be waitin in loine ta whatever afterlife they're goin to. Or they're going to the Lady's tower for a good and propah judgin. The only other place they moight be goin is toward ole' Manifest or one of it's outloiyin towns. Manifest is off ta the west of here. The spire, well the spire's not very hard to miss." The dead man points a withered thumb in the direction of the spire. "Jes be moindin yerself here. Lots o folks don be loiking the living round here. Most o' us dead folk got the protection of the Lady from the Daemons. Living folk? Ye s~~% out-o-luck."
"Thank you for your time." Oterisk said, but it seemed more like a threat than genuine thanks. He looks at the red haired dead man with a suspicious eye to see if he is actually as friendly as it seems.
The dead man grins. "Just you be careful mate. Lot's o' ruckus since ole Asmo died. Once was only astradaemons ta worry bout. Nows all sorts o trouble brewin. Whoda thunk the bastard was so important eh mate? But piss upon all the gods is all I have ta say! Ha ha ha haa!"
The dead man gives a dry chortle as he continues to commences with his digging.
Thank you groundskeeper. The priest-skald murmers. Do you know anyone that might be willing to direct us further at each of those locations? Also are there any specific threats you can think of that we might encounter in the area? Any advise from you would be appecieated.
Lilia is ready to head off to this Manifest, as talking to others isn't one of her strong points. She manages to hold her patience for a few more moments as the others attempt to glean whatever information they can.
The gravedigger shrugs. "Beats me mate. They mostly leave me alone. They don't allow they likes of me in the city. Something about an honest free man that bothers the sheep I'm thinking."
Well... The bearded man rumbles. Thank you for your time groundskeeper. Stepping away from the "man" Kranoc turns to his companions with a thoughtful expression on his face. I think we have enough to proceed. I could call upon the divine power we have been given to try to obtain further answers but seeing as how we are looking for four different spirits I think we will probably find at least one of them at the locations provided. Do any of you have a preference where we should head first?
"I think Manifest is the place to go, at least for information. The other two places don't sound like they would be where people who won't be judged by Pharisma would stay for long." He had noticed that the woman had stepped in that direction already, so he felt confident in his assessment for now.
"Let's go then. Perhaps we can judge all four souls and make it home in time for tea," she adds, walking in the direction of Manifest.
Traveling towards the city of manifest is, unsettling, neverminding the mad moon staring down upon you at all times (is the face actually following you?) the endless miles of tombstones (who carved all these things). After several hours of travel the terrain changes very little save the variety of these endless tombstones. For now you appears to be making your way through a field of bone white columns with various flowering vines. Carved into the columns are various names in a curly elven script. Those of you who can read elven recognize an ancient dialect older than humanity itself.
Tak stops occasionally to study the Elvish script. His tyrannosaurus companion heads off to nose at graves and sometimes comes back reeking of carrion. "Ushan smells naught but food here. His hunger is endless."
"So what are your stories," Lilia asks during the hike. "Looks like we have some time before we get to Manifest. I happen to be a descendent of a red dragon, as luck would have it. Don't worry...I'm relatively pleasant for such a a background."
Lilia shook her head at the strange script. "Languages aren't my strong point."
"Ushan smells naught but food here. His hunger is endless."
Then he is more like the occupants of this realm then most. Replies the shaggy barbarian. Trudging through the endless tombstones Kranoc quietly listens as the straw haired woman goes on about being decended from a dragon. Knowing your ancestors is good. Kranoc nods. But I have known young pups who died trying to follow in their ancestors footsteps before they were prepared. It is important to stand on your on strength. Not rely on the who your father or his father was. Ivory white teeth flashing in the gloom, Kranoc smiles to take some of the sting from his words. I am sure each of us could sing many songs of our deeds. But that is not the Lord in Irons way. You know my name and why I am here. Let us each be judged by our actions.
"I am descendant from a line of Orcish kings, but I am pleasant enough too." The large orc laughs a bit at his own poor joke. But then he gets a more serious look on his face. "Red Dragons are mightier beasts than Orcish kings, so I commend you for your blood."
"As for me, I joined the human's society to see what we lack. Orcs are stronger than humans, but the weak inherit the earth. I have determined that it is your laws. Your mightiest nations are the ones with the mightiest laws. Perhaps that is why the Prince of Laws chose me to be here. It is my goal to bring laws to the orcs." He took a pause to regard his fellow judges.
"I like killing and destruction as much as any orc though. I told you my goal so you won't get in my way. Surprisingly, humans generally tend to let me get my way as long as I don't oppose them and I have been living in Absalom for quite some time, working on my codex. So don't be concerned that I am plotting your destruction over here, I have smaller more reasonable goals."
"interesting," she nods at Oterisk. "With respect, most of orcish blood I have met have not been especially concerned with the law. You have a tough task ahead of you, Law Bringer."
"I like killing and destruction as much as any orc though. I told you my goal so you won't get in my way. Surprisingly, humans generally tend to let me get my way as long as I don't oppose them and I have been living in Absalom for quite some time, working on my codex. So don't be concerned that I am plotting your destruction over here, I have smaller more reasonable goals."
The Ulfen man shrugs at the orc's mention of violence. Some men need being killed, its the way of the world that the strong will dominate the weak and neither myself or my god would disagree with you. However, it can be a greater victory to turn an enemy into an ally. The mind is the most powerful weapon any warrior can possess. All I ask while we travel together is that we consider all of our options accordingly.