|
Mack paces the spartan guest room within the walls of Skyreach, anticipating another mission from the Grand Lodge. He catches a glimpse of himself in the polished brass mirror on the door.
Tall and wiry with the black hair and dark eyes of his Sczarni heritage, his mithral chain shirt reflects the light from his wayfinder. He checks his pair of kukris, the adamantine Prachanda and the mithral Baburam, named for two notorious fiends from another world, a pocket plane called the Mao-ntain Kingdom of Nepal.
It's been too long since he's heard from his network of agents, a skilled cadre of ladies all well-placed to keep him abreast of developments throughout the Inner Sea and beyond.
Perhaps it's time to extend my web beyond this world... If the archon Kelinahat, She of Ebon Wings, and Empyreal Lord of spies and stealth wills it.
|
A small, hooded creature slips in behind Mack, but doesn't speak or make any noticeable sounds.
Lots of nice weapons, fancy armor. He's the one to hide behind.
Or hide from? Knights don't need make-up and lockpicks, right?
You have each received an urgent summons to the archives beneath Skyreach from Zarta Dralneen, to which you have each dutifully and promptly responded. As you arrive, you find the atmosphere within the vaults taught with anxiety. Nervous acolytes, scholars, and guards are hastily inscribing warding runes on the walls while others work on a larger arcane ward around a scorched circle of melted stone and smashed shelves. Several guardsmen are assisting wizards in assembling golems at six points around the ward.
A gynosphinx is directing a trio of scholars in the containment of several sparkling crystal that have fallen from a smashed, Osirian urn.
Venture-Captain Ambrus-Valsin is present. He keeps his eyes fixed squarely at the center of the scorched stone while heatedly speaking to Zarta Dralnee, who stands beside him. His words become clearer as you approach.
Valsin continues, “…a needless risk of agents and resources. Your countermeasures worked. Just accept that success and let’s be rid of the thing.”
Zarta gives an acknowledging smile to you as you draw near and lightly places a hand to direct Valsin’s attention. “We aren’t sure of another way to safely close the portal permanently. And here we have some of the Society’s best, eager to assist.” Valsin frowns, but Zarta quickly stymies further argument. “This is a risk but also an opportunity. Think of what censored history we might uncover from a pre-war Thrune. And if we fail, you’ll still have the pleasure of smashing the talisman. I have the experience and… this is something I need to do, Ambrus.”
Valsin gives an exasperated sigh, “If you don’t return and leave me to clean up this mess, trust that I will find you and give you a dressing down to remember.”
As Valsin stalks off, Zarta smirks as though about to make a cheeky response. She quickly refocuses, producing a dark iron talisman set with a ruby and inscribed with Infernal script. “This, my friends, is a melancholic talisman, a device of diabolic manufacture that opens a portal to a specific point in Hell. It activated spontaneously yesterday, allowing a flight of imps access to Skyreach.” Zarta continues with pride. “The Dark Archive has prepared for such planar incursions after last year’s intrusions, and we quickly destroyed or captured the devils. With information gleaned from the imps, I carefully reopened the portal and ventured through. I found myself in the city of Dis in the Nine Hells. I learned through my contacts there of the talisman’s connection to Gellius Thrune, a scion of Cheliax’s ruling family from just after the Everwar about 300 years ago. Gellius sold his soul to a devil named Leventi. Another devil, the osyluth Vetrivides, noticed my investigation, as they too are investigating this Leventi for acting against the interests of Hell. If we can find proof of Leventi’s wrongdoing, Vetrivides will award us the soul of Gellius Thrune, who we can then question on how to permanently close the hellmouth. Vetrivides provided me with writs to act as their agent for the next 48 hours.”
She smiles impishly and concludes, “As you’ve no doubt heard your enemies shout, it’s time to go to Hell.”
|
|
Mack listens intently to Venture-Captains Ambrus Valsin and Zarta Dralneen. He retrieves a couple volumes of his Pathfinder Chronicles from his handy haversack, licks a thumb and flips through a few pages, doing a little quick research.
He clears his throat and, with the brevity and precision of an experienced intelligence agent, shares with the team all that he knows about House Thrune and the city of Dis.
"Here's what I can tell you about House Thrune... "
"And here's what I know about Dis... "
Mack turns to Zarta, "Cap'n, I've got a couple of questions."
"That talisman. What else can you tell us about it? Is it connected to this 'hellmouth', whatever that is? Why would it activate spontaneously?"
"You mentioned several persons of interest. Can you tell us more about Gellius Thrune, this devil Leventi, and the osyluth Vetrivedes?"
|
|
Rocky is interesting to look at. Like brown clay mostly molded into a humanoid shape then shined to a brilliance. It is a garish and unpleasant look. He wears no armor.
"What could someone do to act against the interests of Hell? Save pets? Offer good deals on contracts?"
As he talks he moves near the ward and looks at the scorched area says in a lower voice "Haven't been to hell yet. Not sure if I want to."
In a more normal voice "How should we prepare? I presume it is hot there."
|
|
A small gnome enters the room, looking around cautiously, a grumpy frown on his face, before he moves over to a shadowy corner, his eyes constantly scanning all the activity nearby nervously.
He has a shock of orange hair on his head, and the smell of soot and chemicals seems to waft in behind him. His clothes seem to back up the scent, as they are covered in small holes and chemical burns.
He listens with an increasingly deepening scowl as Zarta talks to them.
"Dis?" He finally says, his voice equal parts surprise and stifled anger."Have ta be sportin' a right barmy nut ta go on the books to Dis! "
"Whole lurk is a brimstone crimpin' shop. We go on the fly, we're knackered for truth."
"This toffer what's crowin'..." He adds, with a scowl. "Granny he's flashin' rum patter to vamp us all?"
You're not sure what he's talking about, his speech so thick with lower-class slang its almost like another language. He does not seem overly enthused by what Zarta just said though.
...The Thrice-Damned House of Thrune rules Cheliax under Her Infernal Majestrix Abrogail II. Abrogail I struck a bargain with Asmodeus during the Chelish Civil War, gaining an army of devils to secure her victory but selling the nation into Asmodeus’s service in the process. House Davian, under Duchess Lannavia Davian, challenged Thrune for control of Cheliax at the Battle of a Hundred Kings in 4639 AR. Thrune’s victory led to Queen Abrogail I’s coronation the following year," Mack says.
Zarta adds, "The Davian and Thrune families rose to prominence after the Everwar ended in 4410 AR, with Thrune’s ascendance largely thanks to the military exploits of Alivia Thrune."
Mack then goes on to academically relay the following regarding Dis:
The city of Dis occupies the second of the Nine Hells. The archfiend Dispater rules over it from an impossibly tall tower, the Iron Scepter. Legions of devils patrol the streets of Dis, enforcing Hell’s laws, and the city is home to millions of damned souls and other fiends. Its markets teem with merchants and exotic wares from across the multiverse, though simple food and drink is hard to locate.
Other high-ranking fiends carrying out Dispater's will. The archfiend’s wife is Erecura, a demigoddess who rules by his side and exerts a more benign influence. The Erinyes Queen, Eiseth, also claims a portion of the second layer from her aerie, Widow’s Cry.
The Oppidian Maze occupies most of Dis, its labyrinthine streets ever-shifting according to Dispater’s will. There is an ordered logic to the Maze’s design, known to few.
"The latter, most commonly," Zarta answers Rocky with a wry smile. "The former only if the proper paperwork had not been completed beforehand."
"The melancholic talisman would not have activated spontaneously. Gellius' soul must have activated it as it is bound to him. And as far as my knowledge of the man, it is limited to what I have already told you," she says. "Now, as to the devils, Leventi is a contract devil, authorized to offer and negotiate contracts for mortal souls, and Vetrivides is an osyluth--devils tasked with sniffing out disloyalty in Hell--but he lacks the authority to perform more than a cursory investigation of a higher ranking fiend such as Leventi."
She turns her gaze back to Rocky and says, "Hot, yes, but in ways far different than the elemental planes. If you have the means to adapt your body to the infernal energies of Hell, it would benefit you, but we have only two hours before we depart."
"Not if you are shrewd," Zarta answers Milo.
Mack shows you two chapters from his Pathfinder Chronicle.
Zarta raises an eyebrow at Mack and says, "Did you once work for me?"
|
|
At Macks introduction: "I'm Rocky. When not training I edit reports."
As all of the names and places get tossed out Rocky get's a glazed look on his face.
"I have a wand of Endure Elements that may help us. As to the rest, I will protect my more knowledgeable colleagues and follow their suggestions."
|
|
Keos arrives hurriedly and sees everyone assembled and asking questions "Greetings fellows I feel the delay but my friend wanted to go in and for the structural integrity of the building better to stay out", you look and see a huge wolf jumping and running around the next room.
Keos looks captain and said "Ambrus how long without seeing you, if you mordiskitos see you he want to go inside" Keos makes a fast check in the rest of the group "Demons, talismans pufff!!! i will go for more cold iron arrows"
|
|
Having shared what he knows about these devils, he considers ways to overcome their defenses.
"Weapons against evil or align weapon would be a very useful spells, if we have to fight these fiends. Either of those in your arsenal, Davina?"
Mack scans a catalogue of the supplies available at the Grand Lodge. "Weapons against evil is much less effective on a wand, but oil of align weapon is about 300gp."
The man looks around at the rest of the team. "Regarding comms, I'm fluent in Infernal. Anyone else know the devil tongue?"
"Well, gather what you need and meet me here in two hours," Zarta says before turning away to supervise the construction of the larger warding.
The archivist named Roger blinks stupidly at Mack for a moment before the pouch of coins slams into his chest. Apparently now responding to the moniker 'Jimmy,' he runs off to the Grand Lodge's quartermaster to retrieve the requested wand.
Once you have gathered the things you feel that you need, you return. At the previously mentioned time, the warding is now complete and the golems stand motionless but give you the eerie sense of being ready to spring into action at the first sign of infernal invasion.
"Ready?" Zarta asks, rhetorically. "Lovely."
Zarta directs the melancholic talisman at the middle of the room and speaks an arcane word. The talisman’s jagged engravings twist and spin as if alive, and a wide, fleshy maw of teeth and fire tears itself open within the room’s warded circle. Thin films that cover the interior of the portal snap open like layered eyelids, slowly swelling outward as if under some great pressure. As the last membrane retracts, a blast of heated air billows into the room.
Through the portal, you see jagged towers of iron spread in a circular maze. This is the city of Dis.
Zarta steps into the circle and through the portal. From the other side, she turns and beckons you to follow.
|
|
Milo looks at the portal nervously, as it opens, ignoring the ring pulsing just as nervously on his hand.
"Ya, like we're not totally carked." He observes with a scowl, glaring at the newly opened portal.
He does not lead the way, instead waiting for others to go first.
Eventually though, he will follow along, his hands balled into fists as he does so. "Pigeons on a rasher wagon." He mutters, cryptically.
|
|
"I had an unpleasant experience with a devil and thanks to his memories I learned his idiom, so I speak it quite fluid, that oil is not useful for my arrows but I can use magic to do my most harmful arrows" Once they cross the portal, which is something that they do not like very much, the city makes them nervous, Keos and mordiskitos prefer caverns and large plains.
As each of you cross the portal and enter the city of Dis, a distracting buzzing--louder for some than others--takes up residence in your ears. Davina, however, has the additional privilege of enjoying a migraine that begins as soon as she crosses the threshold into the infernal plane.
The odor of seared blood permeates the choking, hot, smoky air. A low scream resonates from countless writhing bodies impaled on spikes atop the surrounding structures. Fiendish sigils adorn banners hanging from palace walls that stretch across city blocks, while a river of fire wends its way through canals below the nearby courtyard. Flights of imps patrol the bloody skies, while the winged figures of erinyes perch atop buildings, always watching. At the center of it all, a tower of impossible height stretches endlessly upward, its walls covered with gargoyles.
Zarta checks a series of rods placed around the portal. “These should conceal the portal’s presence and keep anyone from accidentally wandering through,” she explains before looking around at the city and grimacing. “Ah Hell…being away for five years wasn’t long enough.” She gathers herself and continues. “We have two writs and, with only two days to search for clues across a very large city, I suggest we pursue separate leads. I have a good supply of sending scrolls, so we can reconnect.” She gestures along the canal. “In this direction lies the Fallen Fastness, a library of mortal sin. Vetrivides waits there and may have more information.” She gestures in the other direction, toward the river of fire. “Following the Andrimal this way leads to the floating Market of Breaths. Information and treasure flow there, and my contacts say Leventi’s associate Arenthea frequents the market. Leventi’s business dealings may offer some…” She smirks, “…damning evidence.”
She hands a scroll case each to Davina and to Milo. "There are three scrolls in each, you can use them to convey anything you feel would be important or to arrange a meeting to review what we have found," Zarta says. "Here is your writ. Stay together. If you are caught without the writ, it will be difficult to say the least to extract you from Hell's legal system. Now, remember, this is Hell, not the Abyss. Be on your best behavior."
"It is less about how distant a point is within the Oppidian Maze than it is about how well you can navigate it. It was built by creatures that can fly and teleport, after all," Zarta informs you. "And yes, I will investigate whichever lead you opt to not follow."
|
|
"Bloody hell." Milo mutters, at the sight of the place, ignoring the irony of that statement in their current situation.
"These bludgers gonna granny us for truth." He mutters, doing his best to try to disappear behind the bulk that is Rocky.
He shakes his head as Mack suggests starting in whatever Dis calls a Market. "Toolers in that gaff as like to nick more'n just coppers." He says. "All the flimps and wirers probably crowin' for gits like us."
He clearly does not like the idea of going to what will probably be a crowded market, in hell.
"Shakin' a bunch a readers sounds much more flush." He adds, pointing the other way. "Case a thing, 'fore ya tool it, right?"
Zarta nods and says, "Very well. I will head to the Fallen Fastness, then. Contact me if you find anything before I contact you."
With that, she leaves. You head into the streets of Dis.
The streets are relatively empty compared to the skies where erinyes patrol, flock of imps dance about, and the rare, bloated belier crosses above. Where you walk on the ground, you pass sections of walls where bodies have been folded painfully to serve in place of bricks. Their eyes follow you piteously while the few hands stick out of the wall grasp pleadingly at you. Other petitioners are herded down the street, whipped by a bearded devil. You steel yourself to bargain with a devil, but most of the bearded or barbed devils simply sneer at you and move along.
Eventually, you come across a lone imp lounging on an iron spike sticking out of the corner of a building. "You're looking for a guide through Hell?" he asks rhetorically in response to your own inquiry.
"I am between assignments," he concedes. "I suppose I could offer my services." He pushes himself into a sitting position, swinging his legs over the side of the spike where he swings them at the knees.
"For fifty gold coins--paid upfront--I, Artylget, most recently escort to Zarkimon the Omnipotent to Hell, will provide you with truthful information to the best of my ability to know and accurate directions to wherever you wish to go in the city of Dis for the duration of eight hours. Contract is renewable upon agreement by both parties."
He holds out a tiny, clawed hand. "Do we have a deal?"
”Well, you could ask him,” the imp says, ”But you’ll need to find your own way to the pit fiend that is currently flaying his skin off in thin strips.”
"I know my way around Dis and Hell in general, yes," he answers Davina with an insulted snort. "A fair shade better than you, I would bet my horns."
When Mack gets to dealing, the tiny devil turns his attention to him. He does not notice Fek slipping his talons into the tiny belt pouches hanging off of his belt. "What's this now? Hmm," Artylget says. "Very well. The terms of the previous offer amended to a duration of 48 hours for the fee of 750 gold coins or the equivalent in gemstones, jewelry, or fine art--and most specifically no portion of your soul as I do not have the authority to barter in souls directly for myself in Dispater's jurisdiction." He speaks louder and looks around as though the walls had ears, and, if you count the occasional mortal soul impaled on the iron spikes of the nearby buildings, they do. "However, I further amend the agreement to include the right to cancel my service as a result of abuse--abuse defined by whatever I say it is--with no refund."
He holds out his tiny hand and grips Mack's index finger.
Milo looks around and finds danger everywhere. From the flocks of imps and flights of erinyes regularly patrolling the skies to the odd eye affixed to a wall here and there for some inscrutable reason to the souls impaled along the street (they appear to be in too much anguish to pay any attention to you, but who knows!). The gnome is certain that this is the tightest, most dangerous police state that he has ever been to or heard about.
Milo indicates that he is ready to go and indicates the way that he believes would be the most direct.
"What? What does some mortal gnome know about navigating the streets of Dis?" Artylget snorts. "If you want to get to the Market of Breaths on foot, you've got to go this way."
He points in the exact same direction as Milo.
|
|
"I will lead. Just tell us where to go."
As we walk a thought occurs to Rocky.
"You of course meant abuse by us yes? This is a dangerous place and others may abuse you before we can stop them. I also wonder if in this twisted place we define abuse differently."
Rocky keeps his pace slow so that everyone can keep up.