GM Neirikr's page

It's done. This was a beautiful game, and really is a swan's song for you, DM. Raveen's story was dark and personal, and this was also amazingly done, especially how you weaved everyone's story together. Bravo! I've had Viridel as a concept for almost 10 years now (first conjured in 2014), and this is the best adventure to start (and close) him with.

Thank you! It's always a joy to play with you, my friend.

As a side question, do we level up? xD

Sure, why not. :P

I assume that the souls that were releeased included Viridel's lost students, right?

That is an entirely logical conclusion. Lorthact could have had them secreted away somewhere, but that doesn't seem probable.

@Everyone: There. Our iteration of the Academy of Secrets is officially finished. I'll leave the game open until next Monday, in case someone wants to amend/expand their epilogue in the gameplay thread, or ask questions here in the discussion thread. After that I'll set the game as inactive.

Thank you again for sticking around! If anyone else here wants to keep on playing, as Grymwold suggested, you are of course free to plan your next steps here. Unfortunately, due to obvious reasons, I think it might be best that I take an extended break from play-by-post. You've all been excellent players, and I would absolutely love to game with any and all of you again in the future, but I can't really commit to anything long-term right now.

~ EPILOGUE ~

And then he turns to Toff "Ye owe me the Hammer as promised" which was the whole reason he got wrangled into this mess.

Grymwold's blunt reminder of practical matters brings the argument to a close, at least for the moment. In the bloody aftermath of the Breaching Festival, the outcome of the contest had nearly been forgotten. The planned award banquet and other less formal festivities around the city are unsurprisingly cancelled, but there are dues to be paid. As soon as Toff Ornelos is under lock and key and the crowd has been cleared off, Dean Vost escorts the victors—at least those that chose to remain—to the headmaster's study in Ornelos Hall. Using a key secured from the headmaster's person, as well as the intonation of a series of complex arcane formulas, she opens a magically concealed and heavily trapped extraplanar safe behind one of the bookshelves. Out spills a number of gold coins, a great deal of jewellery, and a number of precious gems—as well as the ancestral hammer of Grymwold's clan, wrapped neatly in a still-bloodied war-banner of ancient make.

Though outwardly impressive, a closer enumeration reveals that the treasure amounts to precisely 98,230 gold sails in value—much lower than the accumulated prize pool of 153,000 gold sails one would expect. After a few awkward hours of going through the headmaster's accounts, it becomes clear he had been funding personal projects from the cache for decades, under the irresponsible assumption that no one would ever win the contest. It seems he never intended to pay the group in full, even if they did succeed. Vost apologises profusely for Ornelos' mismanagement of funds, promising that the difference will be compensated in the form of whatever magic items or services the heroes deem fit. Of course, material rewards are only a part of the prize—the victors are now celebrities, in Korvosa and beyond.

~

Queen Ileosa—ruling on behalf of her ailing husband, King Eodred II—plainly cares little for the investigation that ensues, only wishing to see the Acadamae remain a status symbol for the city. She orders the whole affair handled swiftly and judiciously, leaving the city’s Arbiters free to investigate without too much royal meddling, as long as they produce quick results. While the process leads to relatively few executions, Bayard soon finds himself overseeing the arrests of—and serving as warden to—many a highborn prisoner, being one of the few people within the Korvosan judicial system that is considered to be above the petty politics of the nobility.

Eventually deemed guilty of a conspiracy to commit mass murder (as well as corruption, endangerment of the public, and other less serious charges), Toff Ornelos is forced to resign his post as headmaster and abdicate his noble titles, which are given to family members deemed loyal to the Crimson Throne. House Ornelos seethes at the loss of their prestige and, most importantly, their long institutional dominion over the Acadamae. In order to avoid more bad publicity, they comply with the Arbiters' investigation. Some cousins, nieces and nephews are thrown under the proverbial cart, being directly or indirectly tied to Toff's mismanagement.

However, it is Toff's eventual confession that produces the most controversy: he claims continuous contact with his great-uncle, Lord Volshyenek Ornelos, the founder of the Acadamae, who was thought to have been killed by devils a century prior. According to Toff's testimony, the Immortal Lord kept his survival a secret from everyone but the current head of the family—a post which has coincided with the leadership of the Acadamae more often than not. Ostensibly, he demanded to be consulted on school administration, contributing to the rise of diabolism—and most importantly, he insisted the continuation of the Breaching Festival. However, as shocking as this revelation proves to be, no physical evidence of the Ornelos' long-lived patriarch is ever uncovered: even under magical compulsion, no one but Toff himself ever admits to having seen Lord Volshyenek. Most of his kin brand Toff a madman, and for the most part, the public seems content with this conclusion.

Within the halls of the Acadamae, however, signs of infernal meddling are taken very seriously—as the Acting Headmistress, Messida Vost keeps a close eye on unusual happenings within the school walls, should Lorthact the Unraveller seek to reclaim his dominion. Certainly, House Ornelos is already seeking to regain control by applying economic and political pressure on the institution, but whether they act on behalf of an immortal puppet-master remains to be seen...

~

Vindicated by the Arbiters' probe (and thoroughly vetted by Viridel, personally) Dean Vost does not make it a secret that she is after the post of headmaster on a more permanent basis. However, while she is as power-hungry as one would expect from an Egorian-born diabolist, she makes conscious efforts to distance herself from the previous administration's open authoritarianism: she is willing to call for decanal votes on important matters and put into place various reforms limiting the headmaster's power. From here on, the headmaster is to be chosen by vote for a six-year term, with the possibility of being voted out if they overstep their bounds.

During the next few years, the Acadamae takes a couple of wary steps towards being more open and less cruel. While the taint of diabolism is hard to expunge completely—especially given its dominant position in the Chelish cultural sphere—Viridel's patient guidance does bear fruit: hidden Ornelos loyalists (both fiends and mortals) are weeded out, and the practice of general conjuration slowly becomes more prevalent. As a result, many die-hard diabolists and devil-worshippers relocate south to Cheliax. As a side effect of the elf's presence, the status of the Hall of Seeing is greatly improved, bringing the traditionalist wizards closer to abandoning the ways of Old Thassilon and accepting divination as a school of magic worthy of serious study, rather than a simple tool or the purvey of flighty universalists.

~

Back at the Everglow residence, a bittersweet reunion leads to an uneasy conciliation: filled with regret over his son's fate, Elasaril uses his considerable influence to hire the best healers in Varisia and beyond. The elf even turns down a discreet offer by Vost to take over as the Dean of Abjuration, instead choosing to focus on making amends with his children. While he never recovers fully from his hellish ordeal, Wolfe is eventually able to function more normally, and even continue his studies into magic. Understandably, he is quite reluctant to return to the Acadamae or travel too far elsewhere. Maganrad, keeping in touch with Laree, offers to home-tutor the younger wizard—of course, while his offer is genuine, the enchanter might have ulterior motives for wanting to regularly visit the household...

~

Upon his much-anticipated homecoming, Grymwold is hailed as a true hero, worthy of the tales of old. Clan-Friend Viridel, too, is toasted many times over as the Shieldstorm regales his kinsmen with stories of their exploits: the stone halls ring with cheers as he describes their various victories over vicious fiends, and with solemn murmurs as he tells of the Thrice-Cursed Chelaxians and the terrible price of their blasphemous folly. On the following morn, in a more sober ceremony, the Forgefather's Hammer is re-consecrated by the priests of Torag and enshrined in a place of honour within the High Fane. Long oaths are sworn upon beard-rings, each member of the clan bound together in one promise: to never let the sacred relic fall into the wrong hands again.

~

Anethra returns home to Cheliax, her contract fulfilled and the last mistakes of her youth eradicated. After all, a provincial backwater such as Korvosa has little to offer a priestess of her stature, and soon other schemes and responsibilities occupy her time—yet, more than once does she find her thoughts drawn back to Belzeragna. Some visions are too potent not to linger in the mind’s eye, and to have witnessed first-hand the powers of an Infernal Duke—the ability to bend reality, to twist space and time to one's will, to command whole legions of the damned, and to enslave of souls in the thousands—certainly leaves an impression, even if all these sublime wonders are merely a trifling fraction of the Dark Prince's own might. What could an enterprising mind accomplish with all that potential? Now that an advantageous position has been established, perhaps it might be enlightening to make contact and see what kind of deal a desperate, exiled Duke might be willing to strike...

Thank you, everyone! Wrap-up post coming up as soon as humanly possible.

Given his particular distaste for Arcane casters, Grymm is quite ready for Toff to try escaping via magic rather than face the consequences of his actions

As soon as Grym hears the hint of an arcane syllable pass through Toff's lips he smacks a beefy hand over the Mage's mouth No No NO! We're having a conversation here. Not polite to disappear while others are talking. Agreed?

Grym keeps an iron grip on the Mage's mouth waiting for him to nod yes. Absolutely expecting outrage and willing to withstand this test of wills with the patience and discipline instilled in him through long years of life and faith.

Ornelos can do little but struggle feebly in Grymwold's grasp. For all his magical might, the wizard is not very physically imposing.

"You are to be just as potentially guilty as the headmaster. In fact more so," she explains with raised voice toward Vost, hoping to bring to a stop the fear in Toff that makes him wish to flee. "You are the Dean of Conjuration, aren't you? And it is your responsibility to ensure that the students and challengers face the school of conjuration when designing and setting up traps for us. Did you cast any spells in the Hall of Summoning? Is not the very spell that would carry us to such a tormented place a conjuration spell of exceeding difficulty? When I lay blame on the headmaster, I see the horror in his eyes that he would be responsible for something like this. Fright is there, yes, but more like a cornered animal. I believe he is at fault for suspecting something and turning a blind eye, and for that alone I blame him, but I do not believe he is the one responsible for all of this. I wish to hear all of your testimony," she now directs her speech to the other school senior staff who helped set up the Hall of Summoning. "Did she or the headmaster cast any spells upon the door to the Hall of Summoning in preparation for this event? It is by touching that door, we were brought to that hellish plane."

The target of the Breaching is the Hall of Wards, which is the school of abjuration, but I'll run with it.

Vost maintains her composure admirably well, even in the face of personal accusations. "Of course, all staff members—myself included—must be thoroughly investigated before the inauguration of the next headmaster. However, as a daughter of one of our best instructors, you should know how the Acadamae operates. The participation of me and my colleagues was solely at the discretion of Headmaster Ornelos and the Dean of Abjuration—in practice, we consult on locks or traps requiring our particular field of expertise, and even then we worked under constant supervision. We had little room to improvise. The word of the headmaster is absolute, and to go against it is to court not just censure, but death itself. As for Dean Cangi..."

Vost glances at the swooning matron of the Hall of Wards, who has been sat down and is being fanned by her subordinate abjurers. "...I do not believe she had any foreknowledge of this conspiracy. Whether or not her gullibility makes her fit to serve in her post is another matter entirely."

She now directs her speech to the other school senior staff who helped set up the Hall of Summoning. "Did she or the headmaster cast any spells upon the door to the Hall of Summoning in preparation for this event? It is by touching that door, we were brought to that hellish plane."

The other deans and instructors, quickly falling in line with Vost's coup, also disavow any knowledge of the plot. For the most part, they seem truthful—many had vague suspicions of the headmaster abusing his position for personal gain, but nothing this ambitious. For the most part, no one has anything bad to say about the Dean of Conjuration, even staff members like the Dean of Enchantment Heresta Tarlan, who Maganrad can identify as being Vost's main rival.

The Dean of Transmutation, Elgin Remorri, steps forward to offer a more even-handed testimony. The eccentric old man is the most senior member of the staff, with years of service beyond even those of the already quite venerable Toff Ornelos. "Did both of them have opportunity to do as you insinuate? Certainly. Did either of them actually commit the deed? Not to my knowledge. However, I am inclined to believe that Ornelos acted to cover up the truth of the Breaching Festival, whether he was the mastermind or—as Master Viridel seemed to imply—inherited this conspiracy from his predecessors. I have seen many headmasters come and go. Most of them were his kin, after all, and they have always had a keen interest in maintaining the tradition..."

"She is right, it is not the fault of one man," Viridel says. "No matter how attractive, or convenient, it is to scapegoat him. This realm was timeless, yes, but the Breaching Festival has been here for longer than the Headmaster's tenure. We all here bear witness, that in the hellish realm we entered, it was the Immortal Lord, Volshyenek Ornelos, who made that pact with the hidden Devil of the Breaching Festival--not Archmagi Toff. This conspiracy runs deeper than you know."

This revelation sends waves of murmurs across the gathered crowd, carried to even those outside the soft-spoken diviner's vicinity. The legend of Lord Volshyenek is still well-known across the city, enshrined in the annals of Korvosan history alongside colonial heroes as Keyra Palin, Waydon Endrin, and Jakthion Korvosa himself.

"Very wolfish, Archmage Vost," Viridel said, an ancient calm setting over his elven face. "Yet, is it not you, after all, who wishes to expand the scope of the school's dominion from merely devils to all kinds of fiends? If Lawful Hell broke loose in the Academae, what would the Chaotic Abyss do? What would the denizens of the Unfettered Plains of Abbadon do? A mere promise of investigation is not sufficient enough response as the 'acting headmistress'."

Vost's answer is very concise and self-confident—she must have been prepared for such accusations, even if she did not expect them to come from Viridel. "I am quite capable of separating my personal interests from those of the school. My colleagues can attest that I have always sought to ensure the continuity of school tradition, even when it limited my own research, and used my position to curb Ornelos' worst excesses where possible."

The dean sighs. "If it must be put in plain terms: I have no intention of introducing demoniacism to the curriculum."

"Now, it is not unusual for an elf to advise the younger races, but this time it might be welcomed," Viridel adds. "Perhaps what you have is an institutional problem within the Academae--one that requires an institutional solution...perhaps from a body outside the Academae? Is it not time for the Academy of Secrets to be dragged into the light and brought before the people of Korvosa, and all things to be revealed?"

Vost dips her head in reverence—a calculated gesture, but not necessarily ingenuine. "There are secrets which are obscured for a reason—to protect the uninitiated from knowledge they are not prepared to receive. However, I am not opposed to accepting consultation from an expert such as yourself, Master Viridel. You are more than welcome to take part in faculty meetings and offer insight. Obviously, there is need for some... institutional reform."

The last two words are said with some hesitation, but not outright disgust. "For example, the method in which a headmaster is inducted and how they may be removed from power is deeply flawed. Ornelos should have been ousted years ago, but he and his family were far too entrenched in the system. The school will no doubt suffer for the loss of their financial contributions, but such is the price of scientific integrity."

Note: Viridel's voice doesn't usually carry far due to his Anxious drawback, but maybe the conditions allow him to speak.

Thankfully, the audience is quite motivated to listen closely.

spellbreaker would allow him an AOO vs Toffs teleport casting, but there's no way the Mage would be dumb enough to stand next to Grym in this tense situation. Looks like there's nothing Grym can do to prevent the teleport. He has options if he was prepared for the situation but not on the fly like this

Since this bit is more narrative than combat, I don't really mind if you describe this as Grymwold dashing over and smacking Ornelos as he starts panicking. Grymwold hasn't really been talking, so he's more than had the opportunity to inch closer and keep an eye on the jumpy wizard.

Does anyone want to contribute anything? I want to change my post to reflect this information.

@DM: Is there anything we already know in-character that I'm not including?

Well, there's a degree of interpretation involved here, but I don't think you've missed anything major or made any assumptions that are completely off base.

Go ahead and change your post if you'd like.

Toff is being set up as a scapegoat, and Vost is an opportunist who might just as easily sweep the whole affair under the rug. I doubt that Volshyenek is really dead; he was probably blessed with eternal life in return for this river of souls and ‘killed’ when his long life became too suspicious.

Vost is absolutely a power-hungry opportunist, but unlike Ornelos, she is generally quite competent and willing to compromise.

Viridel's Aid Another: 1d20 - 4 + 4 ⇒ (11) - 4 + 4 = 11
Laree's Diplomacy: 1d20 + 5 + 2 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 5 + 2 + 4 = 20

Laree and Viridel's account of the demiplane and its twisted purpose horrifies all who hear it, further stoking the smouldering embers of public outrage. Members of the faculty seem especially upset about what has been going on under their very noses—Dean of Abjuration Julaei Cangi is so horrified that she and her underlings have been party to such atrocities that she has to be bodily supported by her fellows, so as not to collapse from the shock.

Ornelos grows ever paler as his own hand-picked contestants lay down their testimony. His eyes dart to and fro in search of support, but he finds only furrowed brows and frowns, even amongst the faculty and his fellow nobles. It seems clear that the headmaster's will to fight is swiftly crumbling in the face of mounting degradation. "Belzeragna? Chyvvom? N-no, I had no idea... No, no, no... W-well, yes... Of course, you are incapable of willingly achieving such a feat. However, this would not be the first time a layman dabbles in the diabolic to their own, uh... detriment..."

It is at this moment of weakness that the Dean of Conjuration, Messida Vost, chooses to strike.

"Their competence is not in question," she proclaims loudly, stepping out from the ranks of her bemused peers. "I have witnessed their prowess in person, and will more than vouch for their profusive concern for their fellow man. There is simply no reason to cast doubt on their expertise or their motivations. Did you not recruit these individuals yourself, based on their accomplishments in their respective vocations?"

The dean points directly at the besieged headmaster, her every movement defined by carefully calculated outrage. "You, on the other hand, have proven yourself lacking. You are either willingly complicit in this plot, meaning you have betrayed Acadamae, or have unwittingly abetted in a conspiracy against our venerable institution, meaning that you—a supposed master diabolist—have grown lax in your duties and allowed yourself to be manipulated by infernal forces beyond your control. Either way, you are clearly unfit to hold your office. As Dean of Conjuration and designated Vice-Principal of the Acadamae, I call for your immediate resignation. Please relinquish your post, submit to an internal review and..."

Vost turns to address your group directly, offering an effusively humble bow. "...if it please those concerned, whatever investigation Korvosan authorities may choose to undertake on Lord Toff of House Ornelos as a private citizen. As the acting headmaster, I promise our school will cooperate with the Arbiters in whatever capacity they deem necessary..."

Hearing this, as well as the chorus of "ayes" from the other deans, Ornelos lets out a desperate cry—half wordless scream, half jumbled magical formulae—his fingers groping clumsily at the gestures needed for a spell of transportation.

Ornelos is plainly attempting to teleport away. Any reactions?"

"No! We will not be silent. Nor are we here to supplant you. While that may be your subordinates' desires, it is not ours. You didn't intend for this to happen, but it has. We wish for the truth! The whole truth! Everything you know, and it should be clear to all people both common and not here what has been going on in this city and with this school for many years. You tell them or we will! You owe my brother that much, of whom I rescued from utter torment!" she screams in anger as he cowers next to Elann, pawing at her robes in fear of the possibility of any lingering devils flying about. With bravery, Laree steps out in front and in front of any sight of her brother so that Toff must focus on her. If he is going to destroy anyone, she hopes it is her. Through her veil, there is a stern look upon her face and it can be seen in her eyes.

Maganrad steps up next to Laree—not without fear, but nevertheless defiant. "I must also urge transparency, headmaster. For the good of the school."

Maganrad's Aid Another: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (2) + 10 = 12
Laree's Intimidate: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 2 = 12

The crowd murmurs, their attention drawn to Wolfe's wretched form. The gathered deans shift nervously. However, Ornelos' confusion soon turns to rage. His face flushes red with anger, his eyes narrow, and his teeth clench tight—the prescence of the crowd seems to be the only thing keeping him from lashing out.

"Are you accusing me, you whelps?!" the old man hisses, shaking apoplectically. "I am the headmaster of Acadamae! I do not answer to you, girl, or any worldly power. Say whatever you wish—victors or not, your word carries no weight within these walls. After all, who is to say you are not behind this fiasco?! This havoc followed at your heels, not mine! It is you who should be questioned..."

Certainly not life-threatening, but not very pleasant, either.

Viridel's magicks, deployed with the uncanny acuity of a true clairvoyant, confound and disperse the extraplanar invaders. Bayard and Grymwold's combined martial prowess is likewise a sight to behold: dozens upon dozens of fiends lie broken in their wake, and the defenders rally around them wherever they go. Laree draws enemies to their path, allowing the Acadamae's tiefling guards to guide civilians and overwhelmed students away to safety. Anethra's prayers staunch bleeding, knit flesh, and mend bones as the crazed fiends are driven back and destroyed.

There are casualties, of course, but not nearly as many as there would have been if not for the presence of the most-recent victors of the Breaching Festival. In the aftermath, lesser priests scattered amongst the spectators set up a makeshift triage to care for the wounded, and wide-eyed survivors begin to emerge from their hiding places. Noble onlookers and city officials continue to sit sheepishly behind their guards, their privileged self-interest on full display.

The faculty and students of the Acadamae are astonished to see that the bodies of the various devils do not disappear—a clear indication that these were not summoned fiends, but rather actually present on the Material Plane. Conspiratorial whispers abound, and one by one all eyes turn to the stunned headmaster.

In an attempt to shake the grand mage from his stunning looks, she calls out, "Toff Ornelos! Do you intend to stand idly by while the hordes of Belzeragna and the corrupted souls of students within unleash havoc on your own? Can you not recognize the Dwimmerlaik's workmanship? Fight!"

Laree's words had barely registered until now—mutters spread across the gathered crowd, speculations of what the half-elf might have meant. Ornelos had managed to call a bound hamatula to protect himself as stragglers drew close to his pavilion, but only after the slaughter does he find his voice and the will to act.

"Silence!" he shrieks, repeatedly cracking his staff down on the wooden platform. "Hear me and obey! Civilians are ordered to disperse—the Breaching Festival is over, and your invitation to the Acadamae grounds is hereby rescinded. Students will immediately return to their dormitories and remain there until further notice. I shall investigate this... this outrage personally!"

As incapable as he might be as a school administrator, Ornelos is still one of the most powerful wizards in all of Varisia. This seems to be enough to give his underlings pause, even after his open dereliction—used to being bullied into silence, deans, instructors, and students alike cringe at the headmaster's sudden anger. Then again, no one is quick to follow his orders either: students drag their feet and spectators, both noble and ignoble, are far too shell-shocked to act cohesively.

Hopefully everyone is having a peaceful midwinter.

I'm still ill, unfortunately, but since it doesn't look like things will improve for a while, I'll just try to soldier through.

'What were you before you fell to evil?' Viridel thought to himself. He observed the destroyed and bleeding body, and noticed the contracts wrapped about the dying fiend, as well as the auras about the creature.

Spellcraft to ID + Foretelling: 10 + 27 + 3 = 40

Viridel retrieves the contracts from the devil and has Arcane Sight up and, aura identification up, identifies anything and everything including the skull staff.

Most of the contracts draped around Chyvvom's frame appear to be disintegrating alongside their scribe, save for one: the second copy of Illia Ean's contract with Nagxiv—the destruction of both copies should ensure the burglar is saved from unjust damnation and able to be returned to life, should you wish to resurrect her. Aside from these, the devil is bedecked with powerful enchanted jewellery, moulded from both precious metals and bones.

The devil's staff appears to have gone largely dormant, doing nothing untoward as it is handled and appraised—there is obviously a soul trapped within, cowed by decades of infernal torture. Only when brought near Anethra does it begin to moan pitifully, calling to the priestess by name.

In terms of equipment, Chyvvom carries an amulet of magecraft, a ring of protection +3, a ring of spell storing (containing mark of justice), and a spellbook consisting of one long scroll (containing multiple spells of all schools up to 5th level).

The staff is essentially a staff of necromancy which also functions as a +1 dancing quarterstaff that can cast spells autonomously for the duration that it is dancing (within the limits of how many charges it has). It is an intelligent magic item, though it's Ego is quite low—it will never attempt to assert itself over a Lawful Evil wielder. It also happens to be crafted from the mortal remains of Anethra's ex-fling, which she is contractually obliged to retrieve.

"The Duke of Hell has not revealed himself," Viridel states, observing the collapsing demiplane with strange detachment. "But I believe we can leave now. Maginrad, will retrieve Illa's corpse?"

"Then Desna smiles upon us." Maganrad bows respectfully. "As you wish, Master Viridel."

The enchanter leaves the cowering Wolfe in Elann's care, and soon returns with the Varisian's corpse in tow.

~

Stepping through the portal is something of a reversal: instead of a timeless, swirling void, there is bright flash of light as you catch up to the normal chronological order. You find yourselves standing at the front doors of the Hall of Wards, blinking at the early forenoon sun. From its position in the heavens, you realise that it has not even been an hour since you unwittingly entered Belzeragna. The crowd around the plaza erupts into a roar of applause. Acadamae staff on the edge of view begin scurrying about to implement procedures for crowning a victor that have not been employed in over a century.

Julaei Cangi calls out from her podium in her magically loudened voice: "Stupendous! For the first time in decades, not only does the Breaching Festival have a winner, but a whole group of enterprising paragons! What is more, in a show of true sportsmanship, they appear to have recovered the body of—"

The commentary is cut off by the roar of conflagration and the screams of the damned, as both entrances to the Hall of Wards begin to spew out gouts of hellfire: from the darkened flames emerge teeming swarms of fly-like zebubs, smaller flocks of magaav-led gaavs upon their leathery wings, troops of barbazus with their wicked glaives, and a phalanx of levalochs in mechanical lock-step. Singular hamatulas, osyluths, and even a mighty gelugon move amongst the rabble, laying into the crowd with their foul magicks. What was a cacophony of excited cheers only moments ago is now a chorus of panic, terror, and pain.

Noble bodyguards quickly form into shield-walls around their blue-blooded charges, while Queen Ileosa and her protectors are unceremoniously teleported away by her pet bloatmage, leaving the common folk to fend for themselves. Acadamae's faculty does not sit idly by, however: without hesitation, Julaei Cangi erects walls of magical force to protect both students and spectators; Messida Vost summons her own devils to do battle with the invaders; and the rest of the deans follow suit, confounding the fiends with crafty illusions, turning them into harmless songbirds, or simply devastating their number with fearsome shows of elemental power. Instructors and senior students also join the fray, leading their underclassmen in defence of the school and its guests as the tiefling guards attempt to evacuate.

Only headmaster Toff Ornelos appears to be unable to overcome his shock. The old man gets up shakily from his throne-like seat upon his pavilion-covered stand, but merely stands there gaping at the sudden attack, even as his attendants plead him for instructions.

There is supposed to be a series of combats here, but it is a bit anti-climactic and tedious after the boss fight (not to mention largely trivial for your power level). Instead of rolling initiative, give me a description of your characters' badassery as they help to fight back the devil invasion.

Sorry for the delay—I've been pretty ill for the last couple of weeks. I'll get a post in as soon as I'm not feeling quite so awful.

Just for me to get my sh*t together. Thanks for the nudge.

Viridel's word of power seems to halt the staff, which ceases its rotations and floats gently down to the ground, remaining in an upright position. With another incantation, Bayard is flung across the room at Chyvvom, who deflects the incoming axe-strike.

Bayard continues to lay down blow upon blow with his axe, managing—just once—to pierce the devil's formidable defences, wracking his form with another pulse of holy light. As Chyvvom is knocked out of balance by the paladin's attacks, Grymwold is free to send his shield into his wounded side. The devil is thrown back against the wall, sliding down to a still on the balcony, where he lies dying in a pool of black ichor.

With each weakening beat of what passes for a devil's heart, the central circle pulses with yellow radiance—wisps of half-concrete forms can be seen, like schools of fish in a pond. Chyvvom, as if experiencing some last-second epiphany, looks past Bayard and into the swirling lights. "That is... That... is not... right..."

And so the Exchequer of Contracts dies his second death. As the infernal seneschal's animus is extinguished, the realm begins to crumble: cracks begin to form in the ceiling, walls and floor of the chamber, pieces of masonry falling into a blackened void beyond. Meanwhile, the circle continues to grow brighter, until a crackling tear can be seen forming in the fabric of Belzeragna—the motes of light seem to be drawn to it, and droves of them are sucked in each moment.

Bayard and Grymwold land a blow each, which is enough to kill Chyvvom.

We are out of initiative. You have minutes to do whatever you might want to do in Belzeragna before it collapses.

Botting Anethra. Mostly just moving her closer so that she is in range is someone needs healing.

As Laree and Elann manoeuvre around the balcony, Viridel dismisses his magical barrier, allowing Bayard to dash forward. The paladin's axe is met with a pair of criss-crossing contracts, which deflect the blow as if they were made from steel. The wounded devil grunts with exertion—he makes no glib retorts at Viridel.

As the Axeman engages the devil from the front, Grymwold's shield batters his side. Most of the throws are deflected by infernal vellum, magical shields, or the fiend's very own hide, but one catches him square in the chest, crushing bone and pushing him back towards the wall. Instead of getting flustered, the Chyvvom takes advantage of the unexpected space between himself and the paladin. He floats away and casts a spell, attempting to lock his pursuers' muscles in place.

Meanwhile, the staff rotates once more, firing a black streak of malignant energy at Grymwold. The dwarf does not quite manage to raise his ray-deflecting shield in time, causing his life-force to be sapped by the hateful spell.

Bayard's attack misses.
Grymwold's attacks mostly miss, save for one, which successfully bull pushes Chyvvom five feet (which is not enough to bonk him against the wall, unfortunately).

Chyvvom moves along the balcony to float just over it near Grymwold (no line of sight). He then casts hold monster on Bayard (DC 24 Will save [please remember the penalties from being in Belzeragna, his negative levels, etc.]).
The staff casts enervation at Grymwold, which hits and causes 2 temporary negative levels.

You're up!

The staff is a magic item. Unless you are using a spell to identify it, there is little information I can give you (detect magic takes too long in combat).

Sorry about the bull rush plan! It would have made for a cool finisher, but the dice weren't in a favourable mood.

Heal: 12 + 18 - 2 = 28 Rough HP estimate of Chyvvom? How close to death?

Definitely under half health.

Grymwold's shield crashes into Chyvvom's back, eliciting a grunt of pain. However, the impact fails to budge him—the devil is seemingly held in place by something more than his already impressive physical bulk. Viridel weaves a spell to stop Bayard from being whisked away once more, as the entangled paladin is again forced to set aside his axe in favour of less powerful tools. Chyvvom proves resistant to such attempts, but glances at the encroaching heroes with some apprehension.

Maganrad rushes over to the shut double doors, opening them once more. With the obstruction removed, Anethra attempts to still the Exchequer's forked tongue, but his ancient will proves far too strong for such censorship.

Chyvvom, bruised and bleeding, lets go of Bayard and slinks backwards, disappearing in a puff of brimstone, only to reappear on the balcony behind Viridel's magical barrier. However, the devil—with apparent reluctance—lets go of his grisly staff moments before he teleports. Instead of falling, the osseous implement remains afloat, letting out a pale green glow from its hollow eyes-sockets. It turns in place, letting out a string of pained whispers, which then coalesce into the words of a spell: a wave of malignant energy washes over Bayard, Laree and Viridel, sapping their energy.

Grymwold hits Chyvvom (due to the devil having the grappled condition), but fails to bull rush him.
Since Bayard is still grappled and can't use his axe, I botted him dropping it and taking a full attack with his dagger and gauntlet, as before. He does not hit.
As the bull rush + telekinetic charge plan is currently on hold, I'll assume Viridel goes with his original plan and casts dimensional anchor.
Maganrad opens the door for Anethra.
Anethra casts silence on Chyvvom, who makes his save.

Chyvvom takes cover behind Viridel's wall of force and releases his staff.
Chyvvom's staff (marked with a skull) remains in the air and casts waves of fatigue on Bayard, Laree and Viridel, causing them to become fatigued (no save).

You're up! If one of you can bot Bayard, I would be most grateful.

@Bayard: Of course, real life always comes first. Good luck in all your endeavours! :)

@Everyone: Sorry, but I won't be able to post until Sunday. I'm travelling, and I have much less time and access to the internet than I anticipated. We're really, really close, so it shouldn't take too many posts after that to finish this. Thank you for your patience.

@DM: Sorry if I sent an unclear post, but Viridel dimension doors himself as well as Bayard when I posted "and both Viridel and Bayard get back into the fray quickly." because I can teleport both of us. He should be behind Bayard and near Chyvvom and thus Maginrad won't be able to speak to him.

There is no dimensional anchor on the circle, so you can absolutely put yourself in Chyvvom's reach if you'd like—I just assumed you didn't want to.

A couple of nitpicks: since haste doesn't actually give you extra actions, Elann can't do everything as described—I'm going to assume she prioritises throwing the axe and getting away over attacking (the contracts are a part of Chyvvom and wouldn't take fire damage, regardless). As for Bayard, he can't both grab the axe and take a full attack, which unfortunately precludes the crit (which wouldn't have confirmed anyway, so don't feel too bad about it).

Laree didn't roll her Will save against fear, so I rolled for her. She does pass and can act normally, though is still shaken for 1 round.

Elann throws—or perhaps more accurately pushes—the heavy axe into the central circle. The weapon disappears with a now-familiar flash, only to appear near Bayard, clattering on the floor without seeming to retain its sideways momentum. As the simulacrum attempts to flee, she is lashed by the writhing contracts, but somehow manages to dodge the inclosing net of parchment and slip free.

Laree dodges the last erinys' sword and disappears into a veil of smoke. Soon after, the hellish warrior is decimated by Grymwold's shield. She falls, bouncing off the balcony railing before hitting the floor of the rotunda below.

Viridel accepts Bayard's place in the circle, teleporting the paladin to freedom. Cast back into the fray, Bayard lays a fearsome blow upon Chyvvom. The devil roars in surprise and pain, immediately retaliating with his razor-sharp tangles of parchment. Though the contracts manage to cut and restrain Bayard once more, the fiend hardly seems triumphant: he is now without minions and—under the constant onslaught—has scarcely had the opportunity to call for reinforcements...

Back in the duelling arena, Maganrad steps closer to the circle, keeping one hand on Wolfe's shoulder. "Master Viridel, I do not belive I am strong enough to dispel the circle. With enough force, perhaps it can be marred. What should I do?"

Elann manages to avoid an AoO and flee.
Laree likewise avoids an AoO and hides.
Grymwold attacks Red Erinys, bringing her down in four throws. I'm going to assume he doesn't bull rush the enemy, since that would put her out of his line of sight.
Bayard, presumably, picks up his axe. Teleported by Viridel (who is now trapped himself), he can make a single attack against Chyvvom, which does hit. I added the damage for Vital Strike, because I assume that's what Bayard would use if he can't take a full attack.
Asniroth physically can't return to Viridel, who is behind a heavy iron door. You can have him move elsewhere, if you'd like.

Chyvvom attacka Bayard, hitting him twice 22 damage + reapplying the 2d6 bleed. This does, unfortunately, put Bayard back into a grapple.

You're up!

Not related to any current discussion, but I'd like to say I'm loving this combat encounter.

I'm glad to hear that! I didn't go as crazy as I originally planned while re-designing the encounter, so as not to stretch things out too much, but at least its not completely trivial.

It might be too early for this, but there are some specific 'scenes' that I feel would be great if drawn down.

1. Signing the compact of the hammer in the spooky wizard school
2. Viridel's vision of the 'void' in the Hall of Divination
3. Hall of Necromancy trap
4. Falling/plane-shifting into the Hall of Wards and 'we're not in Kansas anymore'

Anyone else got any highlights?

The negotiation with the headmaster was definitely my favourite scene, though possibly not the most exciting in terms of visuals. Then again, there are lots of paintings of important people signing pieces of paper, so I guess it works. :P

Laree's bombs shatter bone and tear muscle, bringing the erinys to her knees. All the way until the end her darkly angelic face set into a grim determination and seething anger, and with her last breath the Fury curses her killer—escape does not even seem to have crossed her mind.

Elann makes her way to Bayard's axe, looking up at the mass of writhing parchments binding its owner. He might be able to grasp the weapon in one hand, but there is no way for the paladin to swing his axe while so entangled.

Laree brings down Yellow Erinys, though it takes all her attacks.

Having the axe is not really advantageous until Bayard is freed, since he can't use two-handed weapons while grappled. Based on the fact that Bayard is currently using his hands to punch and stab, I assume Elann readies an action to throw the axe if/when he's free.

The remaining erinys rages at the demise of her sister-in-arms. She drops her bow, draws her sword, throws herself off the balcony and flies across towards Laree, who can feel her wrathful cries of vengeance chill her to the bone.

Chyvvom looks at the deaths of his minions with distaste. He also glances down at Elann, and seems to come to decision. With a flick of his snaking contracts, he throws Bayard into the middle circle. There is another blinding flash, during which the paladin has the sensation of being stretched across a distance, or falling sideways through darkness for an indeterminable amount of time, reappearing in the circle opposite to the one that entrapped Anethra.

The devil begins to float down towards Elann, his contracts menacing the simulacrum like a clutch of serpents. He makes a sweeping motion with his skeletal staff. Simultaneously, all of the doors—both those in the rotunda and further in the hallway—slam closed with a resounding peal.

Red Erinyes drops her bow, moves across the rotunda while drawing her longsword, and casts a single-target fear spell on Laree, who needs to make a DC 19 Will save or become panicked for 12 rounds (reduced to shaken for 1 round on a success). As it happens, Red Erinys ends her turn in the same square as Asniroth. She is not focusing on him, but this does make him susceptible to attacks of opportunity.

Chyvvom uses his successful grapple check to move Bayard into the circle and lets go, causing Bayard to be teleported into—and become trapped in—the southern magic circle. He then floats down to 10 feet above Elann, putting her in reach of his contracts.

Chyvvom also wills all the doors in Belzeragna to close, which requires no actions on his part. They are not locked, put require actions to open as usual.

You're up!

The bomb destroyed Blue Erinys' rope. On the following round, Yellow Erinys threw her rope to entangle Laree again.

Focused on grappling with Viridel, Nagxiv cannot avoid the oncoming Shieldstorm. The hamatula is thrown back and off balance, allowing Grymwold to finish him with another throw to the head. He wheels around from the strength of the blow and then crumples on the floor.

"Un... fair..." he gargles as his spirit is reabsorbed by Belzeragna.

Bayard is imbued with Viridel's prognostication and his bleeding wounds are mended by a commingling of Dammerich and Asmodeus' power. No longer bleeding, the paladin lays down attacks on the phistophilus. Most of them are far off the mark, mere glancing blows, but one stab of his dagger does penetrate deeper—a stroke of luck, or perhaps destiny. For a moment, the great fiend's eyes grow wide with surprise, but then narrow predatorily as a bright red glow burst out of his many wounds.

"I regret to inform you," he says mockingly, his voice growing in strength as his injuries fade away, "that my contract of servitude precludes me from dying while in pursuit of my duties."

Meanwhile, Asniroth flies over to Laree and claws at the erinys' rope with its talons, fraying the entangling strands of hair.

Grymwold finishes Nagxiv with two throws, but doesn't have any other targets for the rest of his attacks.
Anethra casts mass cure moderate wounds, though she can't target all the wounded at once, since they aren't within 30 feet of one another. I assume she centres the spell on Bayard, since he is most at risk.
Bayard manages to land one hit, which brings Chyvvom down to 0 hit points. This activates Chyvvom's contingency, a high-level heal which does not quite bring him up to full, but safely above half health.
Asniroth damages the rope entangling Laree. The rope has 2 hit points remaining.

I still need actions from Laree – I don't really have the wherewithal to bot her right now

Since Anethra isn't flying right now, she can't actually reach Bayard for healing. I don't think I ever mentioned an exact altitude, but Chyvvom's intention was to get safely out of melee range, so let's say 20 feet. Feel free to revise before taking your actions for the following round.

Grymwold bashes Nagxiv over the head with his shield, sending the him sprawling back. The nimble devil manages to avoid two of the following throws, but two others break away spines and fracture bones as they land. Laree's bombs take him by completely surprise, further battering his body with bursts of magical force.

As Viridel reads his first incantation, both the bow-wielding erinys on the balcony above and Nagxiv begin to move with noticeable sluggishness, though Chyvvom brushes off the spell without much effort. The diviner's conjured slivers of ice nearly bring down Nagxiv, who—despite bing slowed down by Viridel's magic—manages to avoid some of the flurry. Even so, only his fiendish endurance to cold temperatures keeps him standing.

His movement restricted by the slithering contracts, Bayard stabs at Chyvvom with his dagger. This proves much less effective than his primary weapon, his strikes failing to find purchase as they are pushed aside by supernaturally tough parchment or simply glance off the devil's hide or magical force-fields.

"What is a headsman without his axe?" he sneers through his bloodied fangs. "Just another mortal."

The phistophilus momentarily loosens his grip, only to strike again with his whip-like contracts and curving back-horns.

Slowed down by Viridel's magic, the bow-wielding erinys takes one cumbersome shot at Laree. The other fury tugs on the rope attaching her to Laree, attempting to herd the quarry into her longsword. However, the alchemist's many protections keep her safe from harm, even if the first swing is worryingly close.

With a desperate shriek, Nagxiv, even in his near-dead state, manages to launch himself at Viridel. Sluggish as he is, the devil is still faster than most mortals. He manages to catch the wizard with his claws, and Viridel finds himself drawn into a barbed embrace.

Grymwold manages to push Nagxiv back five feet on the first blow, and then hits two throws, one of which also pushes him back ones quare.
Laree hits all her attacks against Ngaxiv. (She was meant to be entangled last round, though I might not have made that clear. I won't retcon anything, but she is still entangled and tethered to Yellow Erinyes.)
Viridel's slow reaches all enemies save for Yellow Erinys. Nagxiv and Red Erinys are affected, but Chyvvom is not. Viridel got through his spell resistance, though.
To hit more than one opponent with cold ice strike, Viridel would need to move to the square directly south of Nagxiv and shoot at Red Erinys. He can't get Nagxiv and Chyvvom without hitting Bayard as well. I'll assume he just tries to finish off Nagxiv instead. Unfortunately, Nagxiv saves and stays up due to cold resistance.
Bayard fails to hit any of his attacks.

Bayard is hit thrice for 35 damage. He is still grappled and—since Anethra couldn't actually heal him—still bleeding (roll for yourself, please).
Red Erinyes is slowed and can only take one shot at Laree, which she misses.
Yellow Erinyes attack Laree twice, but fails to hit.
Nagxiv takes a partial charge at Viridel, hitting him for 20 damage and grappling him, which causes an additional 18 damage due to his barbs.

You're up! I'll try to weave in Anethra's revised actions from last round with minimal retconning.

Viridel's abjuration is successful: the yellow glow dims, but does not go away entirely—apparently, the magic is permanently fused into the carved sigils. Still, Anethra has a chance to exit the circle, returning to Grymwold his primary implement of warfare. With his trusty shield in hand, Grymwold brings down the erinys menacing Laree. The dwarf then flings a warning shot at the approaching Nagxiv, who nimbly dodges the attack.

Elann throws her bombs at the enemy, but fails to entrap them in the alchemical goo. Meanwhile, Laree pelts Chyvvom with multiple bombs, softening the contract devil for Bayard's charge. The last bomb falls at the half-elf's feet, disintegrating the magical rope still wrapped around her.

Aglow with empyreal power, Bayard circles towards Chyvvom and delivers unto the phistophilus Dammerich's divine judgment. Even afflicted with a life-sapping spell, the paladin nearly decapitates the fiend with one fell swoop, cutting through the various force fields and the creature's very own profanely tough hide. Incredibly, the Exchequer of Contracts yet stands, though he bears a grievous wound across his neck.

With a desperate hiss, Nagxiv dashes at Grymwold over the sticky floor. The hamatula launches itself at the dwarf, attempting to draw him into a barbed embrace, but the ever-growing spines scrape and snap harmlessly on the dwarf's armour and shield.

The remaining erinyes, seething at the demise of their sister-in-arms, nevertheless retain their centuries-trained discipline. One flies along a circuitous route, prudently landing near Laree in such a fashion that Grymwold cannot see it from below the balcony. Along the way it flings its rope and draws its sword, much like the previous assailant. Only when Laree is wrapped up does the other erinys—now also perched safely out of the Shieldstorm's way—starts launching arrows across the rotunda. However, even tangled up in a rope, the alchemist proves too slippery a target.

As holy radiance surges through Bayard's axe into Chyvvom's body, the devil's impeccable composure finally cracks—he reels and bellows in agony. Baring fangs spattered with black blood, the fiend strikes back, his many contracts whipping out to cut and constrict. Deceptively sharp-edged and durable, a few manage to slash into Bayard's skin, drawing an alarming amount of blood. Soon the paladin finds himself entangled in the long strips of parchments, drawn closer and impaled painfully into the long, curving horns that jut out of the fiend's back.

Viridel's dispel suppresses the northern magic circle for 1d4 ⇒ 4 rounds, allowing Anethra to exit.
Anethra delivers Grymwold his shield.
Grymwold kills Blue Erinys with four attacks, leaving the last for Nagxiv, but fails to hit the barbed devil.
Elann attacks Nagxiv and (I assume) the next closest erinys with her tanglefoot bombs, but both make their saves.
With the death of Blue Erinys, Laree is free to take her turn more or less as intended. Both of her attacks hit, but no crit.
Bayard lands a critical hit, very nearly bringing Chyvvom down.

Unable to charge in the difficult terrain, Nagxiv moves and attacks Grymwold, but fails to hit.
Yellow Erinys more or less repeats what Blue Erinyes did, but lands outside Grymwold's line of sight.
Red Erinys also lands in cover and full attacks the entangled Laree, but fails to hit.
Chyvvom five-foot steps so as to maximise his protection from the teleportation circle. He then attacks five times and hits twice, dealing Bayard a total of 27 damage (piercing the DR 10/evil from greater angelic aspect, but not Bayard's native DR/3) and 2d6 bleed damage (roll for yourself on your turn). In addition, Bayard is now grappled, the main drawback being that it makes him unable to use his two-handed axe.

You're up!

Okay, good! Just wanted to make sure.

I'm sorry for all these delays, but every time I sit down to write a post I notice some Pathfinder-y shenanigans. This one is sort of crucial...

@Bayard: Do you attacks rolls include the penalties from having 3 negative levels? I'm not sure if you noticed Chyvvom's enervation.

Well, I couldn't identify the circles' function, so I targeted the large one with the understanding that they are one effect. So the main circle is also our ticket out of the realm?

If they're not one effect, I might revise my action, because I think Anethra's Freedom of Movement can overcome the Magic Circle against Mortals. That course of action retains her intention of neutralness and frees up Viridel for different spell-casting, and doesn't tamper with the circle's ability to get us out.

The smaller ones are magic circles, meant to entrap. They are separate effects from the large teleportation circle, meant to transport.

I do not believe freedom of movement is going to work here, since its a barrier and not something affecting the creature's ability to move directly.

My question then would be if I'm anchored to him by the rope, do I have the slack to move 5ft? I'm sure I'm anchored by the length of the rope, but if there is some give to move, I should be able to post my action as is, right? I'd prefer to keep that as is since the rope will be destroyed anyway. I'd rather not write out a whole new post and actions.

Going by the wording of the entangled condition, I believe that being "anchored to an immobile object or tethered by an opposing force" does "entirely prevent" movement. I don't think that necessitates a re-write, if you're fine with the erinys giving Chyvvom some cover and possibly taking an attack of opportunity.

Sorry, but I need to clarify a few things before moving on.

5t step. I am not anchored, right?

The erinys can hold the other end of the rope, so I believe you are. Do you still want to take the same actions (sans the five-foot step) or revise?

@GM: Viridel will identify the central rune to determine if it is a teleportation effect.

Arcana/Spellcraft+ foretell: 4 + 25 = 29

The large central circle (along with its sigils) generally resembles a permanent teleportation circle, though it is way more complex. Specifically, there appear to be many additional symbols related to interplanar travel. Viridel can't see any obvious signs of a magical trap or other tampering.

Viridel motions a circle with his hand, targeting the magic circle to undo the trap formed against his allies.

Viridel casts Greater Dispel Magic with Foretelling.

Which circle, exactly? The small one trapping Anethra, or the big central one?

Argh. Vital Strike says "These extra weapon damage dice are not multiplied on a critical hit, but are added to the total." I didn't see that language in the descriptions for the weapon enhancements, so I thought it did. Alas.

So how much is the final damage? Please move yourself on the map, as well.

While Bayard and Viridel read their respective prayers and spells, Laree rushes up to the balcony to lob a bomb at Chyvvom. The great devil grimaces at the blast of magical energy, but does not take his eyes off Bayard. He reacts to the paladin's prayers much like they were grievous personal slights.

Anethra goes to fetch Grymwold's shield, picking it up from where it appeared within the circle. As she attempts to leave, however, she finds that some oppressive force is keeping her from crossing back over the glowing lines carved into the floor.

Maganrad studies the grooves and curses. "I cannot break the circle. There were not any spells in the grimoire that can mar stone..."

The enchanter pushes Wolfe behind him and tries to dismantle the circle's magical energies, causing its glow to flicker violently, but the abjuration proves too mighty.

With their movement restricted by Viridel's magical barrier, two of the erinyes teleport out to the middle of the room, avoiding the space above the great circle. Their unhindered sister focuses on Laree, throwing at the alchemist what appears to be a rope of raven-black hair, much like the strands on her very own scalp. The rope seems to have a life of its own, wrapping itself around its target even as the devil draws its sword and closes the distance between them.

Now reduced to expendable pawn himself, Nagxiv begins to approach just as reluctantly as his own erstwhile minions. He slinks to one side, casting rays of fire at both Bayard and Grymwold, clearly hesitant to get within arm's length. Yet, as if driven by an invisible scourge, the hamatula trudges slowly forward.

Chyvvom begins to float off the floor. He raises one arm, causing a gruesome staff to appear in his hand in a burst of dark fire: it looks to be constructed from all the bones of a singular humanoid and held together with sinew, topped with that poor unfortunate's rib-crowned skull. With the other hand the contract devil points at Bayard, intoning a spell which sends a lance of black energy towards the paladin. As the malevolent energy strikes him in the chest, Bayard can feel his life-force ebb.

Blue Erinys entangles Laree with her magical rope and moves into melee range. The rope has 4 hit points, AC 10, and requires a DC 24 Strength check to burst.
Red and Yellow Erinyes teleport out from behind the wall of force, but that's all they can do for now.
Nagxiv casts scorching ray at Bayard and Grymwold, hitting both. Both of them take 8 fire damage.
Chyvvom flies up to 30 feet and casts enervation at Bayard, who takes 3 temporary negative levels.

Anethra is trapped in an inverted magic circle, which has been modified to hold mortal creatures. To get out, she needs to pass a DC 32 Charisma check, or use any of the other methods listed in the spell descriptions of either magic circle or planar binding. The circle is carved into the floor and has a hardness of 8, though any amount of damage that overcomes this is enough to effectively break the circle.

Maganrad attempts to dispel the circle, but fails to do so.

You're up!

As soon as Grymwold's shield crosses over the crackling magical circle, there is a blinding flash. When the light dims, the armour-made-weapon has disappeared.

You can hear a crash from the room you just came through. Looking back, those in the rear can see the shield clattering to the floor within one of the smaller circles.

@Everyone: Sorry for the delay, busy week. I should have just rolled the initiative right way... :S

My opening move is either a haste for all or a wall of force to cut off two Erinys from pincushining us and to isolate them.

You can absolutely do that on your own turn, but there's no surprise round or anything.

@DM: I drew a line representing the wall of force. Will it block the two Erinys or am I not taking into account elevation or structure?

The dome is 60 feet high at the middle, and the elevated balcony is at 20 feet. As far as I understand, you cannot go under the elevated balcony (save for the tunnel at the doorway, as indicated by the dotted white lines). I'll rule that the balcony doesn't automatically block the wall, as long as you can fill up the remaining space.

As soon as it becomes clear that negotiations are off the table, Chyvvom sighs ruefully. "What a deplorable waste..."

You're up first.

For the sake of transparency: should you wish to negotiate with Chyvvom, it would be played out as a skill challenge. You would, as a group, have to accumulate a certain amount of successes before a certain amount of failures. The DCs would tough, but not so high as to be impossible, assuming you use your strongest skills. There would be some additional restrictions, but I would also be open to creative use of skills and other abilities.

Or you can just fight. Honestly, I would prefer not to run additional combat encounters, but the decision is entirely yours.

"Let us negotiate," asserts Anethra calmly. "It is as he says: if we do not like the terms when all is said and done, there is always the edge of the sword. What do you demand, Great One, in exchange for helping pass through this loop hole?"

Chyvvom nods magnanimously. "Nothing so priceless as your eternal souls. All I ask is that one day, sometime in the future, either myself—or the powers which I represent—shall receive absolute obedience from those undersigned for a designated period of time. Perhaps... a single Golarian year. Naturally, this will all have to be laid out in more detail at the drafting stage, but that is the crux of my offer: freedom at the price of future service."

Before anyone can protest, the devil raises his arms in a conciliatory manner. "Mind you, this is merely an opening bid, not an ultimatum. I welcome your attempts at bringing the price down to something less... disagreeable."

Sense Motive: 13 + 14 = 27 (Is he lying about mortal having never left? Also, does he not know of a loophole, or is he just toying with us and already knows of a loophole?)

Laree doesn't notice any signs of trickery. His reply might help clear up the situation...

"If it's never been done before, why would we expect it will be done this time? Unless...you already know of a loophole..." she calmly suggests.

"That will not be necessary, priestess. No one here needs any 'loophole'. The fiend lies," Viridel says coldly. He directs his words, sharp as a silver blade, at the devil. "We know that you can release whomever you desire whenever you desire; your consort revealed that much before we destroyed her. Starting off with a transparent lie is not a good opening move--" he says. He then follows acidly with, "O 'Great One'"."

Chyvvom stands up straight, every mote of his quintessence exuding a sense of immortal pride and otherworldly authority.

"I do not lie," he states plainly. "That is the purview of demons."

"Hear this, mortals. These are self-evident truths of this realm, as real as the rains and winds that scourge your home-world: I am the guardian of this gateway, the only being entrusted with the ability to open it. Yet no mortal soul has departed since I assumed my duties, for I am also the Exchequer of Contracts. The master of this realm wills that anyone who desires to leave must bargain for the privilege, and I am more than proficient at bargaining."

"To put this in plainer terms: I hold the key, but I may not—nay, cannot—use it without first asking for a toll. Of course there is a loophole—there is always a loop-hole. You have but to reach out and find it. However, my purpose is to negotiate terms which are favourable to my liege. Do you understand?"

"Speak quickly, then," Viridel spat. "What 'deal' do you offer?"

The devil bows his head slighly in gratitude, without taking his gleaming eyes off the group. "There is a multitude of things I could offer you: anything your hearts desire. The return of lost friends, lovers, pupils... But, as you request, I shall cut to the heart of the matter: exit from Belzeragna is forbidden to mortal souls; it has never been done before. However, working together, we might be able to find a... loophole... through which your valiant troupe could slip out. I simply ask you to negotiate for your release—what do you have to lose? Only time, and here in Belzeragna, time is an abundant resource. If the drafted contract is not to your liking, you can always leave it unsigned, and turn your blades on me then..."

The devil flashes a knowing grin. You do not think he is privy to your telepathic communication, but clearly he realises you are plotting something.

Ah, sorry. I forgot to answer.

Might be a stupid question, but Lorthact is not also Chyvvom, right?

As far as you know, those are two different entities.

The one Viridel sensed absorbing the souls was Lothact?

Maybe? Or just Belzeragna doing it's thing on auto-pilot. Depends on how hands-on Lorthact is being.

I'm going to fill my empty spell slots, I wasn't ready to move on yet. It will take a couple of minutes due to Fast Study.

Before Viridel proceeds, he casts Telepathic Bond (5 people, main party) before we proceed, Communal Protection from Energy (Fire), up to 120 hit points of fire damage, and Heightened Awareness on himself

Sure. Unless otherwise specified, I'll assume intra-party chatter is done through telepathy.

Anethra takes in the environs with an appreciative eye, and considers the devil with something akin to remorse.

"It is a true honor to meet such a being as yourself, Grand Phistophilus Chyvvom. Would that this were another occasion, and you and I had time to deliberate with decorum. Alas, the company that I keep is most adept at tearing obstacles apart with their bombs and weapons. This conversation shall be short lived."

"Your prowess is most impressive," admits Chyvvom, his confidence unshaken, "for mortals, at least. Do you seek to intimidate me? I do not fear obliteration. To fail in my duties, my very purpose, is a far greater terror."

Chyvvom suddenly points at Wolfe, who has crouched into a ball and pressed his hands overs his ears. The great fiend turns to address Bayard and Grymwold in particular. "This is what awaits you, should you slay me. An eternity of torment with no escape—nothing would be solved; no-one would be saved. Fortunately, I am here to offer you an alternative, should you prove cunning enough to seize it."

”Reveal to us the logic of this place, Dark One”, Viridel says. “Is this trap realm known by the Headmaster? For what end is this place for?”

"I am under no obligation to reveal anything," retorts the devil, somehow managing to sound both mockingly snide and apologetically contrite at the same time. "However, I shall answer your questions in the interest of demonstrating my... goodwill. You ask of the headmaster's complicity? Bah! Young Toff is a master of nothing. The wretch has no true knowledge as to what occurs here, though he must suspect. My lord alone mandates these games, and the headmaster obeys, sending his lambs to the slaughter out of blind fear. Nothing happens in the Acadamae without my lord willing it."

"As for the purpose of Belzeragna... Ah, what a question to ask a True Son of Hell! There is one end alone that holds any true meaning: the accumulation of quintessence through the methodical harvest of mortal souls."

Even if she could, Belzeragna might limit such communication to some extent. You are, effectively, in the private pocket dimension of a demigod, which appears to be purposefully closed off from the rest of the multiverse. It wouldn't be much of a hidey-hole if Eiseth could find it so easily!

They walk further into the room and are addressed, at first diplomatically by the booming voice, but then it turns to how feeble and mortal they are.

"Grand Phistophilus Chyvvom. You insult us. We are masters of our crafts. Do you think we cannot comprehend this realm or the machinations of your master?" she chuckles sarcastically.

The devil grins, revealing a row of gleaming white fangs. "Ah, I see! My apologies. Since you are so thoroughly informed and knowledgeable in many subjects, you shall have no issue reaching favourable terms in our upcoming negotiations. Surely you comprehend that is the only way forward?"

Wait, she's 'gone' gone? Was that a 'save the soul before it's forever gone' round we didn't act upon?

There isn't much you could have done. As long as her contract stays in effect, it would require a wish or a miracle to save her from damnation.

Also, who is that person in the room?

That is Illia's corpse.

Potion of Lesser Restoration (assuming he needs it or that it would be effective. She did roll a heal check but I as the player am not privy to the exact amount of his ability damage yet, so I'm not sure how much healing he needs). If he is significantly harmed, she will allow him the use of two, as rolled below. Regardless, unless Grymhold wishes to use his, she will heal Maganrad with a few charges from her wand, which is listed below that.

Since we are using the Unchained Poison Rules, poison doesn't cause ability damage and can't be cured with lesser restoration. It would require neutralize poison or heal (or simple bed rest + mundane healing) to get rid of the after-effects. Fortunately, the Strength poison doesn't really affect Maganrad too much.

Your character obviously knows this, so you don't need to spend the potion.

After the Ulfen is properly restored in ability, she will seek to heal his wounds. To be truthful, she's never really restored someone so good-looking and clearly into her. It's a new experience seeing her capabilities bring him back to his feet.

"There...all better?" she asks with a hand brushing some rogue hairs back in nervousness.

Maganrad drinks the proffered tonics with a grateful nod, watching with scientific curiosity as his wounds close at an accelerated rate. The poison clearly took quite a toll on the enchanter's body, but his condition is stable—nothing that a few days of bed rest cannot fix.

"I could sleep for a week or two," he murmurs drowsily, "but I could not ask for a more agreeable physician. Thank you."

"Do you see, brother dear? You thought it impossible to kill your possessor. He is splattered into the ceiling. You thought it impossible to escape the Devourer, and he was torn to shreds and bludgeoned to bits, and even now you huddle from fear of..." she points to the gooey stain that remains of the devil's body parts as it was vaulted down the hallway. "...that. We will overcome, and I need you to be brave and believe in me. Come. Give me your hand. Stand up..." She will wait until he is up and then will dust him off. "Now give thanks to Maganrad for saving you," she encourages.

Slowly and timidly, the scruffy half-elf emerges from his hiding place—for a moment it feels as if the two are children again, playing at hide-and-seek in the woods, jumping at some animal passing nearby. However, the gruesomeness of their surroundings quickly ruins such comforting illusions.

Wolfe dares only a glance at the slain devils. He does thank Maganrad, as instructed, though it is unclear whether he really understands what happened. The Ulfen smiles back sheepishly. "Ah, think nothing of it! To be quite honest, I am not entirely certain why I jumped in so brashly..."

~

As the group pushes through the intimidating doorway, they emerge into a domed rotunda. The chamber is ringed around its edge by a parapeted balcony, its architecture vaguely reminiscent of the grand Hall of Summoning. Three erinyes—Marijkal's former entourage—perch on the railing with their bows at the ready.

On the spanning dome, some eighty feet above the floor, are stylised images of a proud-looking human man with long black hair as well as a large, handsome devil draped in arcane robes, carrying a scroll-wrapped staff—there are five horns growing out of his forehead that resemble a crown, and he stands on stout cloven hooves. The painted images seem to glow as if burning, and move as if alive, playing out the scene over and over again: the man negotiates with the fiend, signs a contract, and finally kneels before his infernal master. Smaller scenes are spaced throughout the larger mural depicting Acadamae students and others partaking in the Breaching Festival, being drawn into a dark vortex, and themselves signing contracts with a horned devil covered in snaking layers of unfurled parchment.

One does not need to look far to behold said devil in the flesh. On the floor beneath the sweeping dome, a massive, luminescent summoning circle undulates and crackles with trapped arcane energy. Behind the circle, lit by its glow and looking expectantly in your direction, stands a muscular devil with rust-coloured skin and a jutting coronet of ridge-like horns on his brow. Further horn-like growths curve from the creature's back, draped in lengthy scrolls of written contracts. He smiles knowingly, exuding centuries of cultivated confidence and poise. Nagxiv the hamatula is crouched at his feet like a chastised hound.

"Welcome," speaks the imperious fiend, his voice a warm, thrilling baritone. "I am Chyvvom, the Exchequer of Contracts and Steward of Belzeragna. And you, my dear guests, are quite remarkable. It has been a good while since any mortal has managed to cause such a commotion in this realm. Perhaps I should commend you for slaying my treacherous consort. However, I am obligated to inform you that violence shall not avail you any further..."

The devil spread his arms in a sweeping motion. "See this circle? There exists no other egress from Belzeragna, and only I, Chyvvom, may authorise such a departure. Would you bargain for your freedom? Or would you prefer an eternity of feeble struggle against forces you can scarcely comprehend?"

The two spoilers below pertain to the same subject (one roll for both).

The following spoiler is separate from those above.

I'll get us through the western doors next week. There are two single doors up on the balcony as well, in case you want enter through there.

If she is able to recognize that he is indeed diseased/poisoned, she will seek to delay the effect with a swiftly provided vial.

"You are being afflicted. Take this infusion. It will stop the effect for the next...thirteen hours or so."

Elann, having seen that portion of the battle due to the thinning of the wall and it eventually falling, will then state for her master's sake, "He protected your brother with his body."

"Yes, thank you, Elann," she will reply and will seek to also heal his wounds fully.

How far down is he in health?.

Maganrad downs the vial without question. His condition quickly stabilises as the infusion halts the poison's spread. It does not undo the ravages his musculature has already suffered, however, leaving the tall Ulfen somewhat stooped and wobbly on his feet.

"Thirteen hours?" he says with dry amusement, wiping the sweat off his brow. "Never has such an inauspicious number sounded so very heartening."

For his part, Wolfe appears unharmed, though badly spooked. It takes some coaxing to lure him out from under the desk.

How far down is he in health?.

Maganrad is missing 19 hit points.

All the enemies are down? I don't see any left on the map. Assuming they are...

Yes, with Maganrad taken care of, we are now fully out of initiative.

Viridel settles on the ground, studying their surroundings.

What happened to Illia's soul, and are there any other threats, including scrying sensors, around us?

Perception: 14 + 23 = 37

No sensors. As far as Viridel can discern, Illia soul was claimed by the devil (assumably Nagxiv, to whom she is bound) and then absorbed by the demiplane.

Viridel's magical projectiles send the remaining devil reeling back with stars in its insectile eyes. As the osyluth loses its footing, Grymwold pummels it further, finally sending its lifeless body rolling down the hallway floor in pieces.

Yellow Osyluth is dead. Anethra, Bayard and Laree still have their turns before Maganrad needs to make his next save.

Ah, of course. In that case, Blue Osyluth is very dead.

Here's to hoping! I'll stick around in the meantime. I'll just say that I hope we are nearer the end if we are going to continue to be at this pace and it can't be helped. That said, I do want to finish the game.

We are quite close to the end—it's not a long module.

@Grymwold: Do you have something to get through DR/good? I couldn't find anything in your character sheet. It wouldn't have made a huge difference here, but it would have been enough to kill Blue Osyluth.