Mirinde is startled by the trumpets and quickly glances back at Clancy wondering where they were coming from. As the monstrosity steps from behind it she reacts instinctively here stepping back and firing an arrow at it!
For the past month, the familiar has spoken non stop. The first few days were nearly unbearable. He thought more than once about squashing the scorpion, but suddenly the scorpion's droning became like a tinnitus ringing. The elf would need to concentrate on his rambling in order to 'hear' them.
...And then I poked him with my stinger. You know, He should have not tried to step on me. I waited for him to sleep, then I snuck up his leg. It was awful hairy. I don't mind hair. I don't have any, but...
The mage unfocused on the ramblings of his familiar and instead focuses on the new beasty.
"Looks like we'll be getting alot of head." Mister Wanderful says
...Ahhhh, you're soooo funny master. I love listening to you. I wish that I could joke like that. I can't laugh though. I suspect it feels good to...
The elf backs away from the multi-headed beast and fires his bow.
Clancy smiles grimly as the trumpets sound. Apparently Justicia isn't given to subtlety. He raises his shield in defense and steps forward to defend the party from the abomination, but instead of taking his warhammer into his right hand, he uses it to raise his holy symbol in defiance. "Back to whatever foul abyss spawned you!" He shouts in a clear voice.
Both elves’ arrows go wide of their target! The monster does not falter in the face of Clancy’s holy symbol.
Roscoe squeals like a startled pup at the appearance of the beast, but his resolve never falters.
Shortbow
Arrow
And in his exuberance to strike the beast with his bow forgets his own strength and pulls the bow too hard resulting in a broken bow string. He growls under his breath, throws down the faulty bow, and draws his hand-axes. (Or however much of this he can accomplish).
Artemis was not sure this was his place - everyone seemed swept up in the events which had transpired with the Blue Lady but… He was not so sure this was any sort of otherworldly inspiration. Yeah sure, someone was empowering them somehow, but there had to be a reason behind it.
They were being led by the nose, and he was not happy about it. But the pragmatic man was willing to play along - at least his pockets were fuller than they had ever been.
—————
”What the hell is that?” - he grunted as the monstrous mass of hands came at them, his thoughts interrupted. Then drew his blade, and went around it in a roundabout way, hoping for a surprise attack from behind the pillar.
As Artemis circles around the pillar, the handsy monster rushes for Clancy, trying to grab him! But the cleric raises his shield and holds it off!
”By Crom! Take your filthy hands off that man!” bellows a loud, resonant voice. A wildling woman appears on the scene, her muscular form clad in animal hides. She has short brown hair and a fine physique. She raises her polearm as she rushes at the monster.
Unfortunately, she misses! Several of the hands that make up the creature give the new arrival the middle finger!
...ooowh, It's hard to hit. It handily avoided the assault. Oh, Handily. I didn't even notice that I made a joke. Not as good as yours master, But not bad. Even if it was unintentional. I mean, I could work on being funny, squirrels seem funny. Never ate one, but I like that they're twitchy, Do you like squirrels? Cuz...
"Ew." Says Mister Wanderful disdainfully at another woman joining their group. He'd prefer seeing shirtless muscled men fighting. Not some dirty woman.
Clancy spares the wildling woman a glance but nothing more as he dodges away from the grabby monster and hefts his heavy warhammer, swinging it in a wide arc toward the... head? of the thing. "Your arrival is timely." He says to the stranger, as they square off against the monster.
As Mirinde nocks another arrow to fire at the beast she does spare a glance at Roscoe, "It seems you have suffered some misfortune here. I can help you to undo the damage...should you wish..."
She spares the newcomer a quick glance as well, "Your timing is impeccable indeed," but does not allow her to break her concentration here.
;
Without time to consider where the woman might have come from, Artemis tries to attack the creature from a surprise angle, though he doubts it will make a difference against such a foe.
And indeed it does not.
Reflex Save
Roscoe barely manages to keep his feet but rises and draws two of his hand axes. "Now you've done it"!
If there are any actions left, he'll take an aim action, or reposition himself for a better view.
As Roscoe readies his weapons and moves in, the elves open fire. Wandeful's aim is true, his arrow piercing numerous hands with a sickening squelch, but Mirinde misses. Artemis's stab doesn't connect, but Clancy strikes a solid blow with his hammer.
The hands around the creature's "mouth" spread their fingers, revealing nails sharpened to points! They "snap" at Clancy, but he holds off the attack.
The wildling woman attacks again, but misses once more. She growls in frustration.
Mirinde feels a burning sense of frustration and rage building here, but she manages to send another shot at the creature.
;
Though hardly a veteran of doing battle with demons and abominations like this one, Clancy has at least had more than his share of terrifying foes and he offers a bit of advice to the wilding woman. "You're pressing too hard, breathe and let the opening come." The thing tries to 'bite' him with its sharp nailed fingers, and the once-farmer wonders at what manner of creature this is. At least the cannibals he once faced had been human (and dwarf) and the titan was a gigantic version of a human. But this... He clenches his teeth and tries to follow his own advice, then seizes on a lapse in its defense and swings his warhammer again.
...Then I spun around and, Hey is that a bug?... The scorpion bounces in a dance on his shoulder. ...Oh boy. yum yum yum... It races down the elf's back. ...yum yum yum yum yum... It races down his pant leg, ...yum yum yum yum yum... It fights a beetle. ...gonna poke you. gonna poke you...
"We need to finish this hand job." Says Mister Wanderful.
Mirinde grazes the hand-monster with her arrow, but Wanderful and Clancy's attacks come up short.
Artemis continues his assault at the creature, trying to discern if it has a front and back, so he knows the best place to stick a dagger in.
Haha, funny critical :P
Artemis drives his dagger into the monster's "back." Blood flies from the deep wound as the monster trips on its fingers and falls down. The thief brings his blade down once more, finishing off the horrid amalgamation of hands.
The wild woman grunts as the monster falls. She places the hilt of her polearm on the ground and leans on it as she examines the corpse, then looks back up at Clancy.
"Sorry. I usually hit things better. Still getting used to everything. I am Zathra. Who are you?" She gestures to the dead monster. "What is that?" She then gestures to the stone pillar. "And what is that?"
Clancy notices a holy symbol on a chain around the woman's neck -- the All-Seeing Eye, sign of Amun Tor, god of mysteries and riddles.
"Artemis" - the man introduced himself, as he crouched down to retrieve the rings - "No one will ever believe we fought anything like this... Whatever 'this' is"
"I would take a trophy for our win, but... It is more likely to get us arrested than praised though" - he adds, poking the creature with his dagger, then cleaning and placing it back on the belt - "Seems dead"
"Sorry. I usually hit things better. Still getting used to everything. I am Zathra. Who are you?" She gestures to the dead monster. "What is that?" She then gestures to the stone pillar. "And what is that?"
Mister Wanderful sniffs the air disdainfully. "Are you carrying dead fish with you?"
...Gotya. Oh nummy... The scorpion rips the beetle open. ...Boo ya. Nummy, nummy, nummy...
Mirinde nods politely to the newcomer warrior who helped save the group. "I am Mirinde. Your assistance was most helpful."
Turning her attention to the pile of severed hands she frowns, "This is a work of Chaos certainly. Perhaps it is tied to this pillar in some way."
Roscoe places one of his hand axes back in its bandolier spot but keeps the other in hand... just in case.
"Well that was disturbing. I've got to HAND it to you that was a good shot. Now I don't have to get my axes dirty".
He then turns to the new arrival.
"Zathra is it? I'm Roscoe. As far as the rest of your questions I was hoping you knew".
Mirinde peers closer at the sigils on the pillar, but she doesn't know what they might represent. There seem to be little other clues about the purpose of the obelisk.
Clancy grins at the thief. "Well done, Artemis. In fact, well done to us all!" Then he turns to Zathra. "My name is Clancy, and thank you for your help. I was actually hoping you'd know what that thing was. We have traveled far together and ran across that... totem. Praise to Justicia that she warned us of that monster's presence before we approached too closely."
He kicks through the scattered hands, shaking his head at what manner of magic might have held this thing together. Chaos magic for certain. Clancy approaches the obelisk to inspect the carvings more closely. "Where are you from, Zathra? Do you live nearby? It has been a good while since we have seen a village or better yet a decent-sized town."
Zathra grunts a laugh. "Where am I from? Far from here. My story is a long one, and I will happily tell it to you in a safer place. Away from evil pillars and weird monsters."
She gestures to the east. "There is a town several miles in that direction. We can reach it before nightfall if we set out now. I will travel with you, if you will have me. There is safety in numbers."
Mirinde shrugs helplessly, "Perhaps someone in this town knows more of this pillar. In any event I do not wish to be caught out here after sundown, let's press on here." She nods in agreement with the wild female warrior, "Agreed and welcome."
Artemis cautiously moved away from the crumbling... Thing. And nodded his thanks at Clancy.
He also took his turn observing the symbols, trying to commit them to memory as best as possible - "We should copy these or something, but I don't have any paper" - he commented.
Mirinde shrugs helplessly, "Perhaps someone in this town knows more of this pillar. In any event I do not wish to be caught out here after sundown, let's press on here." She nods in agreement with the wild female warrior, "Agreed and welcome."
"I second that motion"
Artemis cautiously moved away from the crumbling... Thing. And nodded his thanks at Clancy.
He also took his turn observing the symbols, trying to commit them to memory as best as possible - "We should copy these or something, but I don't have any paper" - he commented.
"I second that motion"
"Grasp my scroll if you'd like." offers Mister Wanderful.
”Sure” - Artemis nodded, placing the scroll open over the symbols, and making a transcript by using the burnt tip of a branch as a pencil of sorts.
”Ready to go” - he grunts at the others once done.
Chapter 1: Intrigue at the Court of Chaos
As the sun begins to set, you arrive at the small town Zathra indicated. It seems a sleepy little burg, and you are eager to find a place to fill your bellies and rest your feet after walking all afternoon.
As you make your way through the market, you come upon a wooden puppet theater, its sides decorated with garishly colorful streaks of paint. A scrim of thin, pale cloth hangs behind the theatre’s proscenium, backlit by an unseen lantern. Standing before the theatre is a young, tow-headed lad dressed in ragged garb. Strips of faded, colored cloth are tied about his limbs and torso, giving him the appearance of a maypole left standing long into winter. An eager smile brightens his narrow face like a rising horned moon. In a voice surprisingly resonant for his thin frame, the youth addresses the audience.
“Lords and ladies, misses and sirrahs, gaze upon a tale seldom heard even in the courts and manors of your betters. I bring you the story of daring deeds in far-off places, of great treasures long forgotten, and of benevolent despots eager to reward hired heroes. A tale whose origins lie in a time before time.”
With a deep bow, the ragged youth steps to one side, granting you a clear view of the stage. Silhouetted figures appear against the scrim, brought to life by a mixture of light, shadow, and unseen puppeteers. The shadowy actors are grotesque in form, bearing misshapen torsos, and an overabundance of limbs, but nevertheless possessing a strange regality. The silhouettes appear to be holding an audience as a prelude to the story waiting to be told. As you gaze upon the shadow puppets, an odd disquiet afflicts you. Your eyes swim with disorientation. You find yourself growing light in body and then suddenly experience a falling sensation as if tumbling towards the theatre’s arch. A bright, mocking laughter rings in your ears before all goes black. The last words you hear are the youth’s as he concludes his introduction.
“My friends, I give you the Court of Chaos…”
***
As your vision returns, you find yourselves standing upon a great, misshapen six-pointed star formed of darkest obsidian. Above you, the sky spins in a kaleidoscope of nauseous color. Whirls of putrid green, sinister red, depressing blues, and dirty yellow twirl like scrapes of clouds caught in a cyclone. The platform beneath you forms an island adrift on a hellish ocean. Churning waters of blood topped with pink breakers stretch on for as far are your eyes dare gaze. Off in the distance, the ruined spires of antediluvian cities rise above the surface of the gory sea. From time to time, the wreckage of ancient galleys breaks the waves, thrown about by demonic eddies. Amongst the froth of the tide, you spy rotting faces, screaming with eternal agony.
At five of the star-shaped platform’s points are thrones fashioned from bone, skin, and less identifiable substances. Sitting in each is a nightmare made flesh. Titanic figures adorned with unholy finery and bearing horrible guises stare down at you with expressions that—amongst the more human of those faces—convey a witch’s brew of malice, curiosity, and amusement. Standing at the sixth point is a small humanoid figure. Dressed in courtly garb of ashen hue and standing a mere 15’ tall compared to the other giants, he observes you placidly. Scattered around the platform itself are groups of lesser creatures, some misshapen and monstrous, others almost painful in their beauty. The attire of both courtiers and slaves is seen amongst them.
Standing near you is the youth in tattered motley, his rags whipping about in the screams of the damned that is the wind in this place. He bows to you, one foot behind the other in courtly grandeur. “Sirrahs (and m’ladies),” he says with an endearing smile, “Welcome! Allow me to present my masters, the Host of Chaos. Noohl, the Prince of Ruins! Klarvgorok, the Merciless Gaze! Dzzhali, the Strangled Bride! Magog, the Beast! And Hekanhoda, Lord of Grotesques!"
A pregnant pause follows the herald's introduction as the mighty beings peer down at you...
Klarvgorok, The Merciless Gaze: Klarvgorok resembles nothing more than a tremendous blood-shot and dual-lobed eyeball perched almost comically on a pair of birdlike legs.
Dzzhali, The Strangled Bride: Dzzhali’s physical appearance is that of a beautiful humanoid female, two weeks dead. Her flesh is corrupting with decay, maggots play in her hair and empty eye sockets, and her fingernails are long claws. She is dressed in a rotting wedding dress and a hank of coarse rope is wrapped around her bruised and chaffed neck.
Magog, The Beast: Magog’s physical form is dressed in blood-stained sackcloth robes and his misshapen hands are wrapped in bloody rags. His head is covered by the cowl of his robes, showing a black pit where his face should be. The only hints at his physical appearance are a pair of rough and wrinkled trunks that emerge from his hood and end in seven-fingered hands.
Hekanhoda, Lord of Grotesques: Hekanhoda is afflicted with every deformity known to man (and some unknown). His limbs are ill-proportioned, his back is hunched, his eyes milky with cataracts. He bears too many fingers on one hand and too few on another, and drags a clubfoot when striding the planes. Hekanhoda dresses in courtly robes of red, purple, and yellow that accentuate rather than obscure his deformities.
"You little bastard..." - Artemis growled at the boy, drawing his dagger menacingly - "I oughta just..."
As Mirinde takes in the situation she is quiet here as she realizes the symbols on the stone pillar match each one of the Host of Chaos. Sadly despite her studies as a sage she had never run across any tales about these...demons? Angels? Gods?
When she glances at Artemis drawing his blade she hisses, "Put away your blade you fool! We were invited here for a reason!" Composing herself here she turns to face the youthful giant (all the while trying to avoid staring at the fascinating Dzzhali).
I am Mirinde the Wanderer. To what purpose have you gathered us to your court?"
The herald simply grins at Artemis in response to the thief's threats.
Noticing Mirinde's apparent fascination with her, Dzzhali speaks. Her voice echoes with the force of tectonic plates colliding, and a palpable aura of power and menace exudes from the titanic woman. "You have been summoned before the Court of Chaos, an honor given to few mortals. Circumstances in the multiverse require the participation of its lesser creatures and the Court has decided you will serve our aims to this end. You are charged with the recovery of a potent artifact of eld, known as the Yokeless Egg. Should you succeed in returning this object to the Court, know that your services will be well rewarded. The Host of Chaos offers a small boon in return and a token of our esteem suitable for small mortal hearts and minds. Do you accept this charge?"
When she glances at Artemis drawing his blade she hisses, "Put away your blade you fool! We were invited here for a reason!" Composing herself here she turns to face the youthful giant (all the while trying to avoid staring at the fascinating Dzzhali).
"Still wanna stab that bastard kid..." - Artemis grumbled, but his voice tailed off, as if only now he realized their surroundings - "What the...?"
Noticing Mirinde's apparent fascination with her, Dzzhali speaks. Her voice echoes with the force of tectonic plates colliding, and a palpable aura of power and menace exudes from the titanic woman. "You have been summoned before the Court of Chaos, an honor given to few mortals. Circumstances in the multiverse require the participation of its lesser creatures and the Court has decided you will serve our aims to this end. You are charged with the recovery of a potent artifact of eld, known as the Yokeless Egg. Should you succeed in returning this object to the Court, know that your services will be well rewarded. The Host of Chaos offers a small boon in return and a token of our esteem suitable for small mortal hearts and minds. Do you accept this charge?"
"Ask for an advancement" - the thief whispered to Mirinde.
Roscoe is very excited to see the puppet show. He's always loved puppets and had several gifted to him in his youth.
His excitement changes to fear as the scene before him develops. He rubs his eyes, then pinches himself, then rubs his eyes again. He starts when the other beings in his dream begin to speak on their own. He then sighs and accepts his fate. I guess if they were wanting to kill us we'd already be dead.
"Howdy! My name's Roscoe. How did you know about us? I guess we don't have much choice in this quest huh"?
Clancy smiles at the lad introducing the puppet show, and is already digging in his sack for a few coppers to reward the performers when he feels himself falling, and falling, and... He wakes in a nightmare vision, his eyes gazing everywhere - though not lingering on any one thing for more than the barest moment. The rotting, screaming faces floating among the waves is nearly bad enough, but the six figures seated all around them are nearly more than his mind can handle. Justicia protect me. I thought I'd seen nearly the worst that the forces of Chaos could summon forth in the Lady in Blue, but this... These... vile demons...
His first instinct is to die fighting, and he nearly goes for his warhammer, but then the terrible, rotting woman in the bridal gown is speaking and the cleric forces himself to relax and listen. As the horrid demon finishes, Clancy is already thinking that perhaps he could instead seek a way to get this Yokeless Egg - whatever in the Abyss that is - into the 'right' hands instead. Whatever reward these monsters are promising is nothing the warrior priest of Justicia would want.
He strives to keep these thoughts from his face and in the tone of his voice as he speaks. "Where can we find this egg of yours? Can you send us directly there? You and your court snatched us up before we could purchase supplies for a long journey. And what does it look like? How big is it?" He doesn't bother to ask why they want it. He doesn't really want to know and he has no intention of letting them have it in any case.
"Howdy! My name's Roscoe. How did you know about us? I guess we don't have much choice in this quest huh"?
"We know of your work for the one called the Lady in Blue. That you managed to free her ally, Drezzta. We observed you through our sigils as you battled the clutch-culus," Noohl says, voice booming.
"Should you refuse the quest, you will spend eternity as our guests." His third arm points to one of the screaming faces in the gory ocean. "The sea always has room for more. Threats aside, however, you’ll find the Host of Chaos is very generous when rendered service by lesser beings."
"Where can we find this egg of yours? Can you send us directly there? You and your court snatched us up before we could purchase supplies for a long journey. And what does it look like? How big is it?"
Klavgorok answers Clancy, huge eye bulging. “The Yokeless Egg is a spark of primordial Chaos left behind by the tempest of disorder that was the cosmos before life was less than a distant dream. It is our birthright and Chaos always claims its own. The Egg is housed in a repository known as the Cataphract, situated on the Plane of Law and undoubtedly defended by all manner of sentinels and safeguards. We have the power to transport you there directly, and will do so at the appropriate time."
"Ask for an advancement" - the thief whispered to Mirinde.
Mirinde doesn't deign to reply here but does spare him a venomous glare.
As the cleric spins his words she contemplate how her own patron would react to this quest. As the Host responds to his questions she contemplates she admittedly knew little of the Lady's ultimate goals (not to mention how she viewed the Host of Chaos), she did feel confident such an artifact would either prove to be helpful for her cause, or keeping it from the Host would also benefit her patron...and also her own ambitions.
"My boon companion speaks wisely and I echo his concerns. Any additional information you can provide would be most appreciated."
"Yes" - Artemis nods in agreement with Mirinde - "Like for example, what is our payment?" - he pondered for a second - "And what is a clutch... Culus..?"
Noohl chuckles at Artemis question. "A monster of my own design. A homunculus made of hands that clutch and grab. Thus, clutch-culus!" The Chaos being claps his own three hands together.
"As for your payment," Magog says, though no mouth is visible upon his body. "Firstly, we will consider ourselves owing you a small debt of gratitude. Should the time come that you require the assistance of the most powerful forces in the cosmos, we shall attend to that need and consider our debt repaid. Secondly, since the desires of mortals are little things to the minds of the Host, you shall each receive a small gesture of our thanks in the form of a stone that warps fortune in your favor, one of the few Chaos Stones remaining in the multiverse.”
"A lovely design..." Clancy mutters to himself as Noohl explains the term. Ignoring the explanation of their terms of 'payment' - he saw fortune being 'warped' for the urchin and the elf he traveled with, and though he knew not their fate he didn't believe it a happy one - the cleric of Justicia speaks another question. "What is this Cataphract? How will we recognize it? And how do we carry this... 'spark' you want us to claim on your behalf? It sounds dangerous." He tries hard not to think about how they are hearing Magog speak...
For some reason, the rainbow sky makes the elf want to wear a loin cloth and shake his butt at strangers.
...Strange place. Do you think they have bugs. Ohh what does demon bug taste like. Do you think it's spicy? I like...
Noohl chuckles at Artemis question. "A monster of my own design. A homunculus made of hands that clutch and grab. Thus, clutch-culus!" The Chaos being claps his own three hands together.
"If it wasn't for it's murderous attack, I'd find it funny. I have heard of no one who worships you. A being of chaos has no word of honor. You can change your mind..." He snaps his fingers. "...Just like that. Your offering rewards are meaningless. Those suffering in the sea might have done everything you ask. Threats from you aside, you must give an award in an offer of fidelity first."
Noohl, the Prince of Ruins might be worth worshipping; he thinks. ...I don't know master. He's kind of a jerk. Maybe you should think twice. Unless he gives you something cool, like a tasty bug. Or a...
"The Catphract is a bastion of Law. You will be unable to mistake it for anything else," Hekanhoda says disdainfully. "The Egg itself is safe to carry. It will not harm you."
The members of the Host of Chaos all share a laugh at Mister Wanderful's show of defiance. "“We understand discord and confusion like no other beings in the multiverse," Noohl says. "We know your mortal minds reel from the task set before you. As we are not wholly unkind in our affections, we generously grant you the opportunity to discuss among yourselves the offer we extend. You shall have time to debate the benefits of serving us and to contemplate the consequences of refusal."
He points to one of the smaller spires protruding from the ocean of blood around you. "You have until the waves cover the Tower of Ylleryn the Mad once more, a full night by your reckoning. After that time, we shall summon you once more to demand an answer. Until then, you are our guests and no harm shall come unto you. You have our pledge on that. Our Herald shall see you to your quarters. Decide wisely.”
With that, an oval of puce fire ignites on the platform. Beyond the burning portal is an opulent room equal to that of a fine inn. Thick rugs line the floor, the walls are polished mahogany, and a welcoming fire burns in a massive hearth. A large table surrounded by six chairs equal to occupies the middle of the room.
Clancy looks through the portal and around at the large room. He hesitates for only an instant, then steps through. If the Chaos Lords were going to kill him, they had already had ample opportunity to do so. If the room seems a safe place once he is there he finds himself glad that they are no longer forced to stare at the unholy sky and disturbing faces in the water - much less their horrifying hosts. He goes to warm his hands by the fire for a moment, glad for its warmth, then takes a seat at the table, waiting for the others to join him and for the portal to vanish before speaking. "I doubt very much that our hosts are not listening to us talk, but our course seems clear in any case. We must do as they ask, for our choices are none at all."
If Mirinde or Mister Wanderful are surprised at his words, he only meets their gaze placidly. If any of the others glance at him oddly, he only gives them a small smile and a quick wink. Just enough hint that there is more to his thoughts, but that he is not willing to share them just now. Turning to Zathra, the cleric continues. "We are far from the pillar, even if not so far from evil monsters. Though perhaps you will share your story with us now? If you would rather not, have you any idea what has happened to us here? I'm not familiar with any of those beings - though clearly they are evil beyond anything we've encountered." He leaves out the Lady in Blue and Drezzta, not willing to get into a philosophical debate with the elves right now. They are well aware of his attitude toward their former host, just as he is of theirs.