What could go wrong…
Yan holds his weapon at the ready, hoping there isn't a ghost inside.
Scarred One moves closer and smashes with his shield the blackened pillar
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Turns out to not be as easy as expected to break but far from impossible.
Yan chips away at the pillar for almost 30 minutes before it finally shatters. Nothing but ash and a few useful pieces of treasure here. It seems the creature of green flame was the room's designated guardian.
Inside you're able to recover a type I bracers of armor and a type II bag of holding containing a dozen cheap, broken clocks.
Huh. Yan takes a clock.
Sendoski, can you use the dream ruby to give us a bead on this Denizen of Leng?
”Sendoski, you gonna use those bracers?”
Yan now holds a cheap broken clock. Does this represent some secret weakness of Belcorra? Are they useful elsewhere on this level or are the just red hearings...?
Only time will tell.
The party decides not to break any of the other cases wisely.
Sendoski activates the ruby and finds that the Denizen of Leng is quite close by.
There Ysondkhelir (The Denizen) and a mummified crawling hand fight back.
Ysondkhelir is quickly overwhelmed and offers the party a bargain, if one of them accepts his Ruby, especially somebody with powerful psychic adjacent magic like Sendoki, he'll let the girl go.
Knowing that Denizens of Leng are not to be trusted and of the horrible curse that comes from willing accepting their Ruby the party prevails by force instead!
Dorianna swiftly recovers afterward. Mayor Oseph effusively thanks you and arranges for each of you to receive an item of 8th level or lower of their choice from Absalom at his expense. These items take 2 weeks to arrive.
With the most urgent problems dealt with the party takes some time to finish up the renovations of the Thirsty Alpaca.
While not immediately a financial success it does give the party their own home base for recovering and planning etc away from the prying eyes of the towns many interesting characters.
Devils and fleshwarps infest much of the rest of the level with numerous semi-functional connections to hell, and left over instructions from Belcorra regarding invasion plans for Absalom that most of the Devil's are doing their best to pay lip service to and instead go about their own foul infernal business.
4 pieces of Pentagram and a bit of short circuiting from Oorgatch gets the party past the large red doors and in to meet the phistophilus Urevain (Contract Devil).
He's got a large desk covered in reports, inventories, and maps that depict the surface world, Gauntlight, and the surrounding Darklands.
A pair of bearded devils seem to have nothing better to do than menace anybody nearby at all time but he is more interested in talking than fighting.
As the ruggedly handsome contract devil steps forward, the long rolls of parchment hanging from his horns curl up, then unroll again. “Friends, friends! Weapons away. Truly, I am happy to see you.”
The devil turns to the two bearded devil bodyguards, their glaives raised. “Stand down, you two. I doubt they are arrogant enough to fight us."
“I am Urevian, phistophilus and contracted agent of Belcorra, but I assure you I am no enemy of yours. You seek to vanquish her? Put an end to her murderous spirit, the threat she poses to mortal life, et cetera, et cetera? Then perhaps we can broker a deal—one that greatly benefits both of us with a minimal number of precious lives lost. ”
Continuing “Simply put, you are the third-party agents I need to get out of this dreadful place and return home. I've had a great deal of time to review the contract and in an effort to make sure I couldn't convince anybody else to fulfill the payment, I can't snatch the Rajani, neither can my minions or any ally of Belcorra. The intent was that only she could pay. A very technical reading does not prevent her enemies from paying me though, and from what I have seen, you are very much her enemies."
"You see, there is something I want but am not allowed to go and get myself, nor can I employ any infernal agents to retrieve it. No, the hands of a mortal foe of Belcorra must deliver me my prize. My devils are valueless in this regard, as are my fleshwarp soldiers.”
Eventually getting to the point "See... I simply require the soul of Carman Rajani. In his living body, if possible, though I can make do should he... perish. Anyway his soul is already damned for lying, cheating, theft, vandalism, destruction of property, arson, abuse of power, blackmail—even a murder. It is quite clear where he shall go in the afterlife. You would simply cut out the bureaucracy by giving him to me directly. I owe it to someone much more powerful than myself. It would be... unwise for me to leave the Material Plane without it. Carman is the last descendant of Vol Rajani you know..”
Seeing Yan certainly frown, if not others...
"I say it is a lesser evil to turn over the soul of one corrupted individual than to allow an entire town’s destruction. Far less bloodshed on all sides. I do not want to raze Otari, and I don’t want to kill you. However, the contract I have with Belcorra requires that as long as I remain within her employ, I must pursue the domination of the surface world and the destruction of her enemies. Once my contract ends, so does my obligation to her. All I need is the soul of Carman Rajani to fulfill the contract.”
Looking at Yan "I see the reflection of redemption in your eyes. Do you honestly believe that? Just recently he burned a library and stole a historical relic in some misguided ploy to win a political office, which he would just use to further abuse his power and increase his wealth. If I did not need his soul for this specific purpose, I would hire him.”
"So much about what I want... let me be specific on what I can give you. Peace for Otari. I will leave, taking all of my devils with me. And when I go, the barrier preventing you from getting to the lower level will disappear. If you would like, I can direct my remaining fleshwarp minions to clear away the blocked staircase, giving you a second way down. I can even broker further agreements between you my devils should any of you wish to increase the ferocity of your cutting potential or curse your enemies the the erinyes power of retribution”
Sighing a bit "Yes yes... I know you've already killed most of the devils on this level but I can conscript more after I kill you. The inconvenience is, at best, temporary."
Finishing "Do consider carefully, turning down my offer most likely means your death.” Urevian gestures meaningfully to his barbazu bodyguards.
Even you can be redeemed. Carman is already on the path. No deal.
|
Naught hisses at Yan. "Stuborn fool."
Sendoski says, "But Yan, it means peace for Otari and a way down to the lower levels. Sometimes you have to think of the greater good. Maybe we can even convince Carman to do the wise thing and come here of his own accord. A valiant self-sacrifice to save Otari and cement his martyrdom. What would you say to that?"
Scarred One simply growls revealing his tusks and observes the devil and their movement
"I am no expert but if we kill the devil the barrier will be lifted and we would be free to end Belcorra once and for all."
Despite Naught's bad influence the party decides to go for the combat option.
A battle is hard-fought but early healing helps keep the bleed from getting out of control while Yan manages to get much smitage in.
With the Devil defeated the barrier does indeed dissipate and
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allows you further into the depths.
Things seem less urgent for a time though. The Mayor's daughter is doing much better and finishing preparing for her journey to Absalom for higher education.
The Mites seem to be keeping themselves busy raising many legged critters for their own competitions.
Yanneract, Single Scar, Andgatch and Fishawk Spray-Spray seem to currently rule the Mites as some sort of elected council body. Of course elections seem to be who is willing to be crawled on the most by centipedes but they seem happy, and still not invading Otari so all seems well.
Whether adventurelust, the nagging claws of Naught reminding you that Belcorra is still down there, a sense of duty to Otari or the occasional reminder of the Mayor that Otari will not be safe while Belcorra still plans its demise a delve into the further depths is in order.
Descending behind the hellesh prison you encounter an overgrown farm. The primary denizens, other than feral monsters, are listless undead gnomes and addled caligni cultists. Glowing moss, creeping tendrils of mold, decaying wood, distant splashing, foul mists, muddy footprints, smells of earthy rot, and towering fungi leave you with a constant sense of unease.
Several wisps of increasing power an intensity are fought off, before the Ghost of Belcorra herself appears! Collapsing the walls around you and seperating you from each otehr like she did the Roseguard once long ago she quickly escapes, fleeing through solid rock, and leaving you to deal with what turns out to be an illusionary rockslide, although one quite dangerous.
After more exploring Belcorra appears again, this time better prepared, crippling Sendoski with a Feeblemind spell and nearly ending Oorgatch with a Phantasmal Killer. With her message delivered, she retreats after only a few rounds.
Eventually the party is able to clear out enough Bog Mummies, cultists and other feral monsters to safely delve deeper still.
---
On the 9th level you find things even wilder and stranger than before. Unlike the selfcontained Farm level, these caverns were truly wild.
Urdefhans, vampire-like humanoids who largely pursue lives of violence and slaughter. in service of Belcorra make this level extremely dangerous while mold, echoing roars, patches of slick slime, rough stone walls and strange tracks prevent you from ever getting into a comfortable rhythm here.
The numerous interconnecting caverns in the Hunting Grounds are mostly
dark, but patches of glowing fungus illuminates enough areas to provide a sense of the caverns’ great size. Ceiling height varies widely: large caverns are 40 feet high, smaller caverns are 20 feet high, and the several areas of stone worked for humanoid habitation.
While the Urdefhans here have no desire for anything except violence the drow you meet here are more receptive to parlay and eventually you're able to arange an audience with Quara, the Yldaris’s Drow's leader.
"You have the look of surface dwellers. I’ve never met any of your kind, but I’ve seen artwork. Strange, you are not nearly as ugly as our art makes you out to be. I am Quara Orshendiel, leader of this outpost. Let’s figure out whether or not we can help one another.”
Hearing your story:
“I believe you’ve been truthful with me, so I’m going to be truthful with you. Yldaris only exists at Belcorra’s pleasure. It was here when she first created her vast dungeons; at the time, my grandfather was its leader. Belcorra made allies of several groups, including drow, urdefhans to the west, and the deep gnomes above, who have embraced undeath. To each, she gave a large magical lens with strange powers. For safekeeping, I believe. Ours was the Ochre Fulcrum Lens, and it could manipulate emotions."
The Whispering Reeds speaks of slivers of Nhimbaloth’s essence existing in the fulcrum lenses, perhaps as a means to contact the Outer God. The fulcrum lenses possess different and powerful (but, in the text, unspecified) abilities. Yet the fulcrum lenses are dangerous in close proximity, and even Nhimbaloth’s worshippers fear to have more than two or three together at one time. Using their powers draws Nhimbaloth’s scrutiny and invites destruction.
The drow help you recover their Ochre Lens and provide ranged support in a pitched battle against the Urdefhan by the lake after which you've able to recover the Emerald Fulcrum Lens. Perhaps equally importantl they provide safe lodging and have quite a thriving market, much beyond what Otari has to offer including strange alchemical items, gear, and weapons you've never seen before.
Ambushing you after a dangerous battle is once again the Ghost of Belcorra. She attacks with her full might dropping Scarred One with a combomation of corrupting touch and a ghostly hand before retreating.
You find out later who also made an attempt on the life of Quara, the drow leader but was unsuccessful in her mission but did kill both of Quara's personal bodyguards.
With Belcorra's aggression increasing and defeat only being a very temporary setback you manage to get the 3rd Fulcrum Lens from the undead gnomes and prepare for a trip down to the final level.
---
Descending to the final level you find black stone, carvings of bones or mist, clammy air, eerie lights, fog, swamp plants. Ironically this level is in someway safer than the ones above it. Dangerous creatures do not roam its halls and carves, just the overwhelming and constant sense of death.
There are skeleton whom The Wispering Reeds refers to as Lady's Whisper
It whispers your names one by one as it points the way forward, towards a series of test to prove your worth and draw the attention of Nhimbaloth. It closes each door behind you, and only opens the next once you've defeated the deadly hazards, golems and incorporeal undead the block your progress.
At one point Naught finally speaks up "Why do you all keep following the Path to Nhimbaloth. Be the heroes and stop mucking around following the script."
Belcorra's ghost once again strikes with rage as you step off the path.
Breaking out of the Trial of Nhimbalth that can only lead to Empty Death you eventually make it to the Empty Vault, a generation pit for
the wisps who serve Nhimbaloth. A funnel of swamp, despair, and ghostly energies, it is mystically connected to the various swamp plant basins throughout the lower Abomination Vaults.
Despite having fought her only an hour ago, Belcorra's Ebon lens flares rejuvenating her ghost who attacks you with even more ferocity than before.
Despite the constantly spawning wisps and the level 12 ghostly sorceress Belcorra Haruvex who has learned much from your previous encounters you are eventually able to focus your 3 lenses onto her...
Suddenly the earth shakes. A tremendous and hideous wail emanates from somewhere beyond this chamber—indeed, it seems, from beyond the material plane. Paralyzing you all with fear. Then a terrible, blackish-gray mist seeps into the room. It stinks of a fetid bog and leaves a layer of cloying, slimy water upon everything it passes. The mist twists in shape and form, with seven-fingered tentacles appearing and disappearing in the fog.
It flows into Belcorra, who shrieks, “No! I deserve your power, not your attention! My death is full of rage and strength—it is not empty!” Naught hisses at Belcorra, seemingly not paralyzed and especially pleased to see her demise. Despite Belcorra's protestations, her form is pulled apart into the mist, and the mist vanishes.
An immense grinding noise comes from high above. Gauntlight, Belcorra’s greatest work, is collapsing, one level at a time. With each passing round, the artifact drops one dungeon level along the lighthouse’s footprint, obliterating anything directly beneath it. Your paralysis fades in time to make it from out from under the central chamber
Gauntlight is no more, and only the pit in the Fogfen and the Mite infested ruins marks the spot it once stood.
Back in town you get a warm welcome. The Mayor is thankful, the people are thankful. Business at the Thirsty Alpaca overflows as people come to hear your tales.
Days turn to weeks, weeks to months, months into a year.
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Yan sits at his desk in his room above the Crows Cask. He places Sendoskis battered old book on the windowsill. It now features a torn dust jacket and its waterlogged, ringed from teacups, smeared with the grease of old dinners and the ectoplasm of old ghosts, full burnt and bloodied and bleached pages. He can hardly believe its been a year and he still hasnt gotten it back to his friend.
He licks his fingers and picks up a quill. Then he puts it down again. He shuffles through the stacks of parchment on his desk… the novel hes writing.
Chapter One: A Light in the Fog
”And so the heroes crossed fields of pixie-mud and into the kingdom of SKRAWNG. They found tributaries too vast to leap in a single bound. They paused in consternation at a bone giant you’ve to guard the kingdom’s heart.
He turns the page.
Chapter Two: The Only Thing With More Lives Than a Cats is a lie
The black cat perched on Sendoski's shoulder like a devil from hell, staring at the noble Champion Yan. It whispered something into his friends ear. Soul gems or stolen books! It grinned back at Yan and licked its sable paws.
Another page.
Chapter Four: The Scythes that Scar
The old orc blinked. Worddancer? Ashava's healing light faded from Yan's hands as gruff druids most lethal wounds closed. He was still hurt badly, but no longer at deaths door. The war leader stood on shaky legs and turned away. He reached for his healing tools but left the sharpest blade hidden. "Right now I don't feel like adding any more scars."
Another.
Chapter Eight: Try and try Again and When You Fail…
Why was Oorgatch shouting? Of course. He was deafened. And also wounded. And also stunned. Because he was Oorgatch.
He tumbled face-first into the shoulder of the neolithid's pet dinosaur.
But Oorgatch was no so easily deterred.
At long last he tumbled through the creature's legs and, shouting with triumph, whirled his "branch" at its underbelly… whiffing by at least a foot.
The Duskwalker puts the page down, smiling to himself. Looking back it seems almost comical. Was that the right tone for this book?
Surely Oorgatch would read it after all. Perhaps he should characterize Oorgatch as a more dashing swashbuckler. No. That would be a disservice to the memory of his friend. Oorgatch played the fool but he was deeper than that. He had an intelligence about him. Yan saw it. And he had a way of rolling with the cruel whims of fate that Yan admired so much.
Oorgatch had wanted to read Sendoski's book, too. Yan knew it. He knew it since day one. He'd thought he should lend it to the young half-orc but like so many other things he just never got around to it. And anyway, arguably it wasn't even his to lend. Well Sendoski wouldn't mind. Was that a cat hissing somewhere? No, must be the wind. At any rate, he'd love to hear what Oorgatch thought of the book.
…Well, there's always tomorrow.
Yan leans back and plucks his wine off the book. He puts his feet up on the desk, crinkling the pages of his novel. He listens to the music thumping from the bar downstairs. Soon enough he's lost in the rhythm, daydreaming in memories of his friends and tapping along to the rhythm.
His foot nudges Sendoski's book off the sill. It falls into the neglected flowerbed down below where it rests among the rose blossoms that open that open in the moonlight, guarding it like angel's wings.
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The old one was limping down the streets of Otari. "Good morning!" he heard a loud voice from next to a market stall. Scarred One lifted his eyes and saw Keeleno Lathenar. "Mornin" he responded walking further towards Thirsty Alpaca.
They made quite and impact in the society, many wounds have healed, and many conflicts were resolved. He threw a glimpse towards where Gauntlight once stood in fear that it was still there, but it was not. He kept limping and finally got to the alpaca. He opened the door and went towards the bar there was the young orc, Scarred One looked at him, he was not that young anymore. His face and hands covered with many scars, some of them made by him.
"Pour me an ale, young one" he sit on the stool putting his shield next to him
"I don't think I ever said that, but it was a bloody honor to fight by your side. Yours, Worddancers and Ruindelver." He took a sip of the beer looking in the eyes of the Orc
"I must say, when I first saw you stabbing with that club of yours I was certain that you will be slayed in first serios skirmish, but you stood your ground. I must agree with Ruindelver, there is more to you than meets the eye."
He took another drink looking at the Orc
"We did something good here, kid. We did something good..."
Scarred One stayed in Otari, he helped Worliwynn take care of the stone rings, frequently hanged around Thirsty Alpaca wondering if this was his last adventure that he was part of? Or was there more awaiting for him?