DM Delmoth's Planescape

Game Master Delmoth

"Good thinking. Give him the pork jerky. I hear people are salty like pork."

Khikril's ebon eyes light up as the others suggest possible solutions for Derm's appetite. "Ooh! You know, if you're just hoping to eat something, you could always try autocannibalism! See, I'd cut you open and remove one of your ribs, then you could eat that without having to endure the hassle of going out and finding a human and going through all those obstructionist mobs and ethics committees and such."

Flipping open his tool satchel, he begins rummaging through his stock of dangerous and/or insane experiments. "While I'm in there, I could make some upgrades, if you'd like. Reroute your brain through your chest cavity, riveting steel plates to your bones, that sort of thing..." The mad itaraak holds up a humerus, looking expectantly at Derm as he gives a sideways blink. "Extra arm? Always fun at parties, I hear. Speaking of parties, I had this idea about converting a redundant lung into a mechano-organic distillery of sorts - whenever you want a drink, just ram a spigot into your lower abdomen and down the hatch, right? Look, you're in fairly good shape; your calculated chance of survival is very high - upper 'teens, even!"

Derm takes the rations eating one with a single bite. He responds to skee while chewing through the food, wrapping, and twine holding it together, "Uuuuh ok. Dat sounds good little guy."

Swallowing the ration Derm pops another into his mouth greedily.

Nik puts a hand on Khikril's shoulder.
"Hey Skee; as much as I enjoy stitching together shamblers, let's keep this addle-cove out of the dead book. I need to get some sparkles anyway."

Then he addresses everyone.
"Let's go see about spell keys this time. Maybe we go to- idunno- The Place of Wind next?"

"Wind. I like the sound of wind. You think that Guild might be able to figure out where Derm came from, maybe help him out? Derm, d'ya wanna go home? Wanna hang around with us for a bit? There's probably gonna be more sneaking and solving, but you betcha we're gonna get in a scrap sooner or later."

Jek meticulously searches his saddlebags. After a bit he produces two small clumps of dry Dothion barbed grass bits and dust. "Hey! I still have them!" he pops them in his mouth for a moment and withdraws a pair of vard gum earplugs as clean, glistening, and gummy as they ever were. "Oh... that's some flavor. Don't try that..." His face contorts and he tries to scrape the taste off his tongue with his teeth. "We may need more of these for the rest of you though... I for one DO NOT like the sound of that grumpy wind."

Derm pats Rinika on her head with a massive hand, ”Derm find better foods, then go krumpin’. Can smell half-man's blood.”

His head swivels taking in all of the stairs and platforms before him, ”Thankies fur-ball.”

With a stomp of heavy feet the hill giant leaves you, he dimly considers which stairs to take, finally resolving to take the largest set, and in the opposite direction of the Planewalker’s Guild.

Planewalker’s Guild

When you return to the guild Oriam greets you kindly, his pallor is much healthier, ”Hello! How did your trip out of touch go? Sorry about that incident before Nik. The clueless wander through here every now and then.”

He winks, ”Hopefully your minders weren’t too expensive.”

Oriam idly fidgets with an obsidian statue, looking for a place on his shelves. The statue is of a four-legged beast, almost oxen-like except for noticeable scales on its back, it has a simian face, and its forelegs don’t end in hooves but knotted fingers. Its back is low as it rears up in a pose you’d expect from a wolf howling at the moon.

Nik flinches.
"I liked the extra hands, but it's fine. Sarenrae's followers are gonna be pitchfork and torch wavers. It's what they do. Especially torches. Anyway, my minders have been keynapped before. Sort of. Even my first one. Even Horsington is probably not doing too well. But thanks to you I- Uh- made a new friend. Oh, that reminds me, I parked him a few flights of stairs away. We should fetch him on the way to the next place. Also I need a rest, I stayed up all night before the trip to Baator working on my new minder." Nik explains, rambling a bit and forgetting to ask about spell keys for the moment.

Oriam says, "Of course! Of course. Please rest, I'm sure I have extra blankets around here somewhere. And I'll need to get some cheese I think for dinner." The wizard begins to move about his tent making preparations for your stay.

You rest!

If noone else wants to ask about spellkeys, Nik can remember after doing/giving up on shopping xD

The next day, Nik pokes Jek.
"Think we can unload some of the loot here at the adventurer's guild? I need to pickup a Rod of Silent Metamagic, in case that windy place is the windy place."

Yes you can shop here. Bunch of rando adventurers you can find whatever you want.

Jek slowly paces about the stale, book-infested Planeswalker's Guild. He could sense that something like this would be the final showdown with boredom... but no one else could see it yet. Even Nik's shamblers were lively when compared to someone reading a book...

"Think we can unload some of the loot here at the adventurer's guild? I need to pickup a Rod of Silent Metamagic, in case that windy place is the windy place."

Jek snaps back to reality. "Out? Out! I would love to! Yes! Out! Out I go!"

If noone else wants to ask about spellkeys, Nik can remember after doing/giving up on shopping xD

The next day, Nik pokes Jek.
"Think we can unload some of the loot here at the adventurer's guild? I need to pickup a Rod of Silent Metamagic, in case that windy place is the windy place."

** spoiler omitted **...

"Ooh! Ooh! I need one too, it's not very Sneaky when I'm sneaking and have to say my spells out loud. Lemme know if you find any, Nyiiik."

When Jek appears to be staring into the void, she pokes his wrist with a claw. "Hey. We can go offload the loot and grab some nice food for the next trip, I'm pretty sure I saw at least two places hawking decorative shrubberies and one selling cross-dimensional sod varieties."

She glances at Xibalba. "And we can ask around for shadow spell keys for this windy place too, just in case
Wanna come too?"

The party finds someone in a nearly transparent tent surrounded by crystals that have been strung up by cords, chains, and thin leather strips. The aroma of the tent is slightly piney, and almost a mint tang, clearly coming from a number of potted shrubs bearing colorful flowers and green leaves. A woman sits with legs crossed in a lotus position, her skin is not one color but a multitude of bright stripes, almost like a repeating rainbow.

She opens her eyes, smiling warmly, and she bades you to enter in a light breathy voice, ”Welcome. I am Teala, Oriam has spoken of you at great length. It’s really nice to meet you all finally.”

"Oh hi Teala! Nice place you got here, I like it. Where are you from? Do you trade in spell keys? We got a lot a places to go and a lot of places we been to. And we're lookin for some rods of silence and some food to tide us over. When'd you join up with this ragtag bunch? You think it's worth it, joinin' up?"

Nik nods agreeably, opening and closing his mouth as he fails to get a word in edgewise as well as pointing at Rinika when she mentions "rod of silence" and "spell keys".

Teala smiles at the pair warmly, ”Oh darling I’m from a little burg called Free From Want, it’s not too far from Release From Care, if you’ve ever been to that little corner of Amoria.”

She laughs and winks at Nik, ”Guess I just wanted a little more spice to life so here I am. The chant is that you need a spell key for some shadow magic.” she holds up what looks like a quartz crystal with a black cloud whirling on the inside.

”This right here is a shadow fiend that got trapped in a gem, poor little thing, something something the Demise. When you sling your spell, hold this and concentrate on hurting it, that will draw a little bit of its essence out and will fuel your spell. It should work anywhere on the planes.”

She begins to hand the shadow crystal over to the party and says, ”You can have it honey, just promise to tell me first what you find behind all those doors you’re visiting first. ”

This is a bit of a unique spell key, it has 27 charges. If you use it on a plane where shadow magic is not normally allowed you can cast the spell normally. Some magical conditions will bar it from working even there, probably like the quasi-elemental plane of radiance or the realm of a power that dislikes you. If you use it on a plane that shadow magic is normally allowed you don’t spend the spell slot instead. Now that you have the item, if you have the craft wondrous item feat you can make your own vessels to trap your own shadow fiends in if you like. I’ll determine cost if we ever get to that particular bridge.

Finally she says, ”I think Oriam has the rod you want.” He’ll sell it to you for the standard price, you’re also able to sell all your treasures and magic items normally.

I'll move us onto windy place soooon!

After several different flavors of confusion and disbelief flash across Nik's face, he manages to reply.
"Thanks. Uh- you mean like how we found lots of chains in the Jingling - er- Jangling Hiter behind one of the doors? We can do that. Or maybe more like what's causing the iron shadow thingy?"

Xibalba was content inside her lamp. She'd squirreled herself away after their encounter with the chain plane and refused to exit until they'd returned. Safe from monstrous illusions and monstrous chain beasties. Somewhere in the miasma of her sleepy consciousnes, she heard her talking of gold and even her name.

She stirred, but refused to leave. No need to test her powers in here, just the warm embrace of brass. Whatever it was, it could wait.

But hearing speak of shadow magic, the djinn emerged from her lamp stretching her back and arms, careful not to knock over any sundries. Retreating from any hanging crystalss up against the tent wall, she nodded apologetically for interrupting and waited for the Technicolor shopkeep finish her friendly schpiel.

She stared intently at the entrapped demon, still deciding if it was in fact a 'poor little thing'. She remained unconvinced but decided her place was not to judge.

"Teala, tha shop is lovely! Likewise, this one is gratefulsome for thy gift. Tha's wish be for door-secrets? Tha's will be done." she punctuated her statement with a curt bow, their contract more social than magical.

Xibalba looked down to her allies, chagrined.

"This wish-wretch regrets her reagal absence. Gravesome thinking's have vexed Great Xibalba of late." The genie leaned forward and gestured her palms up in begging supplication to her companions. "Xibalba would be honored to share thum baddie-battery for shade-hexeries."

"This wish-wretch regrets her reagal absence. Gravesome thinking's have vexed Great Xibalba of late." The genie leaned forward and gestured her palms up in begging supplication to her companions.

Jek smiles warmly at Xibalba responding more to her tone and gestures than her perplexing vocabulary. "You're a wonderful friend and that's always enough." He tries to hug her, realizes it's not working, and gives the lamp a gentle pat. "As for this 'gravesome thinking,' perhaps Nik can lend some help?" He glances at Nik for confirmation.

As his friends start talking about keys and whatnot, Jek looks for some buyers for the treasures they'd found.

"I don't think she meant literally about graves, but I am good at thinking anyway." Nik shrugs.

Teala sounds like she’s tasting the words as she slowly pronounces them, ”Jangling Hiter.”

”Darling, the place, what the locals are like, maybe how’s their tea? It’s what the Planewalker’s Guild does, explore. While the Iron Shadow is a concern y’all are taking care of that, I’m sure it will be resolved sooner than later.”

Any other business before we move on?

"The place had chains. The people seemed vaguely criminal. We drank something with bits of rust in it, so I'd guess the tea has chains in it somehow." Nik says, scratching his cheek thoughtfully.

Nik shrugs.
"Anyway, like I said, we can do that. I'll just have to take notes for the next place. Thanks for the crystal and uh- we- uh- we'll be seein' ya." Nik says, excusing himself while trying not to look too suspicious of her.

The party climbs up and down stairs, narrow steep stairs, wide and deep stairs seemingly made for giants, strange spirals that curl in weird seemingly impossible directions.

Then you come near to your goal, what the lillend described as the Place of Wind. The platforms and stairs surrounding it are seemingly made of colored glass. Though it is darkened you can clearly see below you, making you feel as though you could fall through at any moment.

The door on the platform appears to also be made of glass but is completely black on the other side causing a dark reflection of yourself to appear on its surface.

When you approach the door it opens before you can touch it. You hear a high pitched sort of squawking, like a number of large birds lay beyond. Through the door steps a elven woman with a blue tint to her skin and deep green hair, she wears a simple brown robe, and carries a staff with runes burned into the wood. A white cat with a pair of feathered wings sits perched on her shoulders.

Startled at your presence she assesses you warily.

"Uh- don't mind- uh- my biggest friend here. He's not doing too well, but he's harmless. Except to bad guys." Nik explains, patting his zombie-glabrezu on the shin.
"Would it help if he had regular arms?" Nik asks.

As before, Khikril chatters almost nonstop as he descends the stairs, expounding on his current theory about the Iron Shadow (which he insists upon calling the Malaise) given its observed effects. In short, since it makes the worlds it touches boring, and since insects are boring, it follows in his deranged mind that the affliction must be due to the actions of some infinitesimally small insect that restructures what it comes in contact with to make it boring.

Fortunately, the group's investigation of the doorway coincides with his mind's perigee with sanity, and he steps forward to greet the elven woman warmly. "Greetings, unidentified Gatescape entity! I take it you are also here researching the Malaise?" His ebon eyes light up upon seeing the winged cat, and he grins, extending a hand in greeting. "Ah, I see you are another practitioner of the noble art of grafting. Skeessannak'khikril of the Vrr'kininr'wraak tribe, at your service. Tell me, have you had any recent urges to preen your antennae or drink sugar water of a sort that you do not usually have?"

Rinika spends her Stairs Time alternately sneaking on ahead when she feels like it, and hanging back and chatting with Khikril and Jek and whoever else wants to join in when she feels like it.

At the door, she's about to stick her nose at the door seam when it springs open, and she hops back, startled. She returns the wary gaze until her eyes light upon the winged cat, and Rinika's ears prick up with interest. This lady must be good people if one of her primitive winged cousins hangs out with her.

"Hi! Yeah, we're uh...well, travellers. This is the Windy Place, yeah? I'm Rinika. Who are you, and who's your friend?"

She addresses the cat directly. "That is, who are you, not to be rude! Do you vouch for this lady?

More generally to both of them, "Going somewhere? Or runnin from something, like the Malaise as this one calls it? The boring-ness? Didn't sound too boring in there, just loud. Don't worry none 'bout us, we don't mean harm 'less you bring some to us."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 20 ⇒ (16) + 20 = 36

Seeing the elf's eyes assessing the party members one by one, Jek quickly strikes a heroic pose with a serious face. It lasts for about a second before he cracks a smile and laughs. "Hi there! I'm Jek! Welcome to the stairs! Does this lead to a tavern? Oh! Look at your little wings! I've always wanted wings. They're the best. You two should be careful though... not everything is nice out here. It's better to travel together I think. You can walk with us if you like, but we're going in there first."

Aid Diplomacy DC 10: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18

The winged cat begins vocalizing in a series of prangs, yowls, and vibrating purrs,

The cat rubs up against the woman affectionately and she returns the gesture by rubbing the side of his face with her hand. She relaxes a little at the assurances provided by Rinika and Jek and says softly, ”I apologize, I won’t provide you our names. You can never be too careful with names spoken from your own lips, call me Azure and this is Stink-butt. Sugar water? Arms?”

The cat hisses at the woman before snorting,

The elf chuckles and pets the winged cat. She motions behind her ”Blurophil, the city beyond, yes it has fallen ill. It has no life, no breath, no energy. I would stay away if I were you. If you were coming for the Festival of Lights, I’m sorry, even the greatest artisan of the city has lost all their spark and vitality. The greater the creator, the greater the loss. And thank you for the concern, but we will be fine.”

Rinika's eyes go a bit wide at the yowling and she tries to keep up -
Linguistics: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23

and at least partially picks up the gist, enough to smile at the exchange. She mews out a rough "Pure intention" back, and makes a mental note to learn this language.

"That boringsness is why we're here - Blurophil isn't the only place it's happening, and we're going to stop it. The planes are too fun of a place to go dull."

"Safe travels, friends. Is anyone coherent enough beyond the door to, I don't know, point us to the source of this malaise? Do you know where it may have come from?"

The pair nods grimly and Azure answers before leaving, ”Not everyone is affected equally. And we don’t have an idea where it came from.”

When you pass through the doorway you’re deposited into an aviary or kennel, or some mix of the two. Within twenty or so cages is a strange mix of dog and bird, they possess a bird-like head with multifaceted eyes, and have feathery wings that sprout from their backs. When you enter they make a high-pitched sort of squawking and try to snap at you with their beaks, but the animals have no way to get to you through their cages.

When you exit the first thing you notice is the air is fresh, noticeably fresher than any plane or world you’ve visited, especially Sigil. The is ground made of some kind of dull metal. There are houses primarily made from stone and clay but scattered bits of wood exist. In the distance there is a 20 ft high wall obscuring your view further and in the other direction the city blocks suddenly end at a line of large windmills which churn lazily in a constant wind. Past the windmills and above is a boundless blue sky. The only thing marring the azure view is a single speck of some distant rock high above, levitating.

The city itself is or rather was set up for some sort of celebration, temporary outside dance floors go unused. Stalls set up for food or other goods are empty. All over are enclosed lanterns, unlit and some laying loose in the street. A few sullen people go about their business in a depressed fashion.

Xibalba squeezes past the cages careful not to get snipped. Taking up the rear, she pushes out of the door last and shield her eyes from the light change, staring up at the speck, trying to discern its secrets. She stares hard enough to feel the storm front of a headache peaking so she instead turns her focus on filling her lungs with the sweet open air. Years spent in a lamp had driven home the importance of fresh air to her, and now she was practiclaly a sommelier of breezes.

In and out. In and out.

She relishes the therapy the cycle provided, basking in the serene vista. She reaches upward , growing her form to really stretch her legs as they traveled. She stomps across the metal flooring feeling like she could roar at the bountiful boundless blue just past the spinning fan temples. She'd heard of them in books but had never seen one in all her years.

"A djinn begs pardon, but what purpose doth held by these monuments?" she points at the windmills leaning down to talk to the group, "Tributes to the realm's gods? Borely the people must finden this spinning nonsense. Is this what vexes thum all so?"

She finally reduces her height before entering the city, mindfully musing at the lackluster party that simply begs to be fleshed out with a little wishcraft. She cracks her in knuckles at the thought.

"The windmill looking things? On the planes, who ever really knows the dark of it? Where I grew up they used the wind to power mills. 'Windmills', just like it says on the tin. They turn grain into flour. Ever eat bread? Flour is for bread somehow. I was never much for baking." Nik explains with a shrug.

Should have included this in the description.

The sky has no sun or other celestial bodies and no apparent sources of light for the bight day here.

Rinika stares at the bird-dogs as she walks past them and her ears twitch as she takes in the vista. "Maybe they make the wind," she adds to the ongoing conversation.

She squints into the light, narrows her eyes and listens and sniffs to try to latch on to anything other than the dull quiet that pervades the town. If nothing is immediately obvious, she'll fly up until she's able to see over the wall.

Rinika flies high and gets a view of the entire city, it is twenty blocks by ten with the wall bisecting it so that five blocks are on each side. On the far side of the 20ft high wall is a long shadow cast over half of the city. Looking back she can see no specific light source that causes the wall to cast such a shadow. Flying a bit higher Rinika bumps her head on something invisible, feeling around above her she’s able to determine that it is some kind of invisible dome. She’s unsure how far it extends without following it for a while.

Rinika reports back. "That wall cuts the city in half, with a light side and a dark side. And there's a dome up top. Maybe some kind of experiment or something? And with a dome, I bet I was right - those windmills are probably making the breeze. So, interesting stuff, but not, like, fun stuff. Time to wander, then?"

She sniffs around for a few more moments and heads out into the city, all quiet-like. stealth: 1d20 + 35 ⇒ (1) + 35 = 36

There is a gather information check here but Rinika will accomplish it easily.

Rinika (and the party?) creep around the strange domed city and see that it is not abandoned, what inhabitants, universally humans, they observe are either in a stupor, clearly suffering from the Iron Shadow, or disgruntled at the failure of the festival. No one seems to know why. Some speculate that it's an illness while others think it's a curse. All the information is largely useless until she hears a woman complaining, ”I just don’t understand why the Oracle of Forgotten Night didn’t predict this!”

In addition to the normal gossip one finds, Rinika also overhears rumors about a serial killer nicknamed the Gasping Strangler. While it is a problem this development is seemingly unrelated to the Iron Shadow. The juicer bits of information:

Nik grumbles and tries to find tea to sample while Rinika does the important information gathering.

I'm guessing that twilight district is in the shadows, do we know that?
Also, anyone else inclined to damage the wall?

Jek greets the breeze with a smile and decides this couldn't possibly be the same wind he had been preparing for. He strolls around the dance floors and picks up an unlit lantern to inspect it, gives it a good shake, and sets it down. "Not much of a party... but it looks like they may have musicians hiding somewhere around here..."

"'Windmills', just like it says on the tin. They turn grain into flour.

Jek's ears perk up at the word 'grain.' He looks around for any signs of vegetation...

"And there's a dome up top."

He stares what is apparently a dome and then at the distant levitating speck of rock. "So is that little thing there outside the dome?" He looks at it a little longer and then at the extents of the town. "Fairly small place... That's not great news for a courier, then again they probably got a lot of this stuff from elsewhere..."

Rinika relates the rumors to the party. "Lots of info floating around. I dunno how much is true and how much is speculatin, but at least someone or something's takin advantage of the weirdness here. Feel like findin some fiendish killer ladies? Who...kill local guys? Sorry Nik, not sure we can use you as a honeypot. Well..." She looks at Nik appraisingly.

Then she looks at Jek.

Then she looks at Khikril and Xibalba and shakes her head with solemn disappointment.

"Maybe they're hiring...?"

"I just need a person sized shambler and a rat. I can make us a 'human' just fine." Nik explains.
"I have a few spare rats. Anyone offering a nice 50 gold piece gem to pay for corpse removal?" He wonders aloud, looking around the immediate area.

"Could go find this oracle of forgotten night too."

Xibalba nods sagely, absorbing the info dump on the city and Nik's side lesson regarding wind powered mills.

"A group should hunt said sequence killer! Or killers? Such a being serves only disruption of the half-light district's order. A djinn has readen no less than four investigaterly novels and solved two and half of thum before finishwise!"

She hangs her head somberly.

"Unfortunatewise, Xibalba lacks Oracle seeking skills..."

She turns to Nik stretching down, hand to her mouth to avoid any citizenry hearing.

"Query, Flame-kin-Nik, how convincing are tha's rats-in-a-flesh-coat? A dashen of illusion magic might aid the guise."

Nik likewise places a hand over one side of his mouth.
"Good idea, but can you just make an illusion without the shambler? That might be enough to just have a person looking figment instead of a glamour."

Map of the city is up, had to turn it sideways and censor some information which I will remove when relevant. You found out where the oracle lives during your investigations and you could visit them if you like.

Jek and Skee notice a ball of crumpled newspaper blow through the streets as you walk.

Gasping Strangler Chokes their Next Victim!" reads the headline.

The latest victim in the string of seven murders has been discovered in the Twilight district. Mearell, a local thug suspected in several muggings, has been found dead with heavy bruising on her throat. The Royal Guard has found no leads on the perpetrator but suspect the Gasping Strangler. Sorry I don't have the juice for a full newspaper article tonight.

Then she looks at Jek.

Jek smiles as Rinika considers him and nods knowingly as she moves on. He had his mojo back, but if his days years as a 'bar'-iaur had taught him anything, it was that the gods had thoroughly cursed bipeds from the waist down. It wasn't fair to them, but his being built correctly seemed to make them self-conscious. Tales of them being 'swept off their feet,' 'head-over-heels,' or 'falling for someone' were all not-so-subtle reminders that their romantic scene was inseparable from their disfigured tipsiness. She would need to find someone suitably impaired.

Jek picks up the suspiciously narrative-laden tumble-trash and flattens it out. "Oh... hey... 'Gasping Strangler Chokes their Next Victim!' Huh..." He passes it around.

"We should ask if we can use the latest victim as the decoy for the next attack." Nik suggests after skimming the article.

"I wonder how the night side works, is it just always night? Can we go hang out for a bit? Let's go see if we can check out where the latest attack was and find any clues, and if not we can go meet this oracle. And avoid whoever this Royal Guard is, I'm sure they'll just get in the way."