"If the black knight heard Ben, could he really be that far away? Could he just be in there?" Arthur motions to the hole.
"I'd rather not smoke Ben out, especially since he might be on guard for danger and we couldn't explain in time." Looking around, Arthur tries to survey the area. "Maybe we call out to him, and in set positions, so if it's Ben, we try to convince him it's actually us. If it's something else, we're ready for it if it charges out."
"Is there something that was shared with the Giant last we saw him?" the Assassin inquires, agreeing quietly with the Wizards assessment. "Something...a word, a tale...one of us left him with, that only he would know?"
Sorry it’s going slow but I won’t be able to update tonight and I’ve got stuff on tomorrow! Hang in there folks! This random hole will definitely be worth the wait!
You spend considerable time discuss how you approach this situation. The world itself seems to pause, offering you no insight. It’s as if days drift by as you stand there mulling it over.
“What you all looking at?” Ben says, peering over your shoulders.
He’s much older than you recall, and only has one arm. He takes on a lopsided grin as you notice.
“Lost it in a fight. Not much of a smith with one arm, eh?”, his face shifts suddenly, and he drops his latest kill, a deer, “Missed you.”
Together you enter the hole, Ben muttering that he keeps meaning to fix up the place as you go. Some distance in you see the hole give way to ancient architecture, angular patterns adorning flat granite, worn almost entirely away. At one end you see a partially broken frame with hits of silvery glass embedded in it. The area doesn’t branch away to other passages; makes you think of a stone coffin fit for dozens. There’s no furnishings here save a badly made forge, stone cold, never been lit.
“I made something for you all, long ago. But I lost it.”, he points vaguely westward.
After a moment, he says, “Have you heard? About the demons at the edge of the mist? Trying to get through. A little bird-thing told me some had. Won’t be long until, you know, the world outside.”
He claps his hand vertically against the granite floor.
Simon, who has been with you this whole time and was vital in the last battle, chooses to stay with Ben.
The Rogue almost chokes, then laughs as the Giant sneaks upon the crew. "Benjamin!" He says happily, showing his teeth and slapping the great lad on the side. The gangly youth takes in the Smith's missing arm, giving out a sound halfway between empathetic pain and personal apology at the sight. "Ooof. That looks like it must've stung, a bit. Well, we're happy to see most of you, at any rate!"
The ginger haired Assassin follows Ben into the cave first, helping (meagerly) to take up the back end of the deer. Quietly helping to dress the creature, the Rogue waits until the one-armed Giant finishes before quietly inquiring, "How long has it been for you, Ben, since you last saw the lot of us? And who took your arm? Do you...need for anything in here?"
The red headed killer hacks at the night's offering, his cleaned and sharpened daggers slicing through tendon and cartildge. He adds, "You said a bird told you of Demons at the edges...any idea what drew them? What yet contains them?"
"I'm grateful that you survived the attack on the Belfry, Ben, though I am saddened that we were not there to protect you all. It seems as if we were caught up in some strange magicks that kept us away longer than we intended, but I understand that does little to assuage your loss."
Does the holy symbol, the one for Arora that we got from the fortress, have any special properties? I was thinking of offering it to Ben since it's a memento of his people and I already have a basic symbol.
“The demons are pouring out from the depths below our world for it is surely the end times. As to the foggy border of these lands? I always thought it divine intervention—too much bad blood split here. I cannot say it will be enough, given time.”
He takes a look at Gruush’s mangled map, and rubs a bit of chalk around three of the edges. Seems the demons are on the verge of spilling out into the lands you came from.
He looks up from the map, “Winters upon winters. No matter. My arm was lost when my last home was took… it was… something terrible to behold. It came down from the heavens one starry night. At first I could not make out its shape… and then… I did not want to. I remember… that ringed hand… where a face should be. It took the gift I had made for you.”
He shudders and says no more.
Some time passes, but Ben does lament his lack of furnishings, and wishes he could smith again. Perhaps with help he could?
They’re both mostly the same holy symbol. Go for it! Where gods are real it might well be of great help.
Solomon offers up the holy symbol of Arora. "Ben, I wanted you to have this. I know not your relationship with the gods, but I thought, perhaps, you might want a keepsake of your people. This symbol has giant runes along it, and I pray it will keep you safe."
"Do you recall where this creature that stole your creation went? It might not be much, but we might perhaps be able to deliver some retribution upon it for what it has done to you."
Ben is taken aback. Gift giving is an integral part of giant culture. Every gift has dozens of meaning, as certain nations ascribe to flowers.
“I will cherish it always.”, he says evenly.
He squints at Solomon.
“I knew you’d want to fight it. You are heroes, after all. It soothes my soul, so know there are good little ones. I suppose I must help you there, for you’ll go regardless.”
He draws a pretty accurate dotted line from here to his last residence. He goes on to say it was a shrine built long, long before the belfry, but clearly of that culture. A place built into the valley’s side, with marvellous use of tiny tunnels built into stone to allow the wind to play holy melodies. There was a bell once, he is sure, perhaps even the very bell that swung at the belfry, moved by some group in the past.
Getting there won’t be a problem. When you leave, I’ll be rolling an encounter for fun, but there’s nothing to it.
Is there more to this little grotto? I’ll leave your next actions up to you.
With it being summer I haven’t posted as often and I don’t expect you to, but if this goes over a week I’ll call summer break!
Hello all! It’s no secret I don’t have much interest in Wizard of the Coast’s stuff these days, but I have enjoyed this adventure a lot despite that.
I’m wondering if some time in the near future you’d like to wrap this up? I’m easy. It’d start whenever the person with the latest proposed date says so.
I’m thinking you could answer some questions about what the party did next, maybe roll some bones to determine some outcomes, then skip to the finale.
I don’t know about you, but I’m in this now to see what choices the characters make when confronted with the Sovereign, and the chance to have infinite cosmic power!
I'm similarly done with the 5e system, but really want to see where Gruush and the others (and as a result, the rest of the Vastness) land at the end of it all- this has been a very fun campaign, glad to have been a part of it!
Most of my "big" summer stuff is done and I can usually check in, but I still probably won't be able to participate regularly until (very) early September when the kids head back to school
I'd also be stoked to have all my D&D characters properly retired, since I'm hoping to put together a long-form ICON campaign around that same time with two regular players from the forum and two new players still TBD ( @kime, I might reach out to see if you have any tips/hints for using the system, if that's alright with you!)
As far as D&D goes, my IRL doesn't use it currently, but I'm still overall fine with it and would happily play in a game if given the chance. I just take any opportunity to TTRPG, honestly.
I still have a few async D&D games going on, I haven't abandoned it yet . One day (hopefully with mrpaku!!??) I'll see what being a player in ICON is like.
It's just so much easier to find async D&D 5e games than anything else.
Edit: oh, and got the actual question, I don't think I have many schedule restraints now. Away most of August, but I should be able to play, just with weird hours.
Usurpers! O’ usurpers!
Bearers of the Shards of the Crown Eternal!
Will thou seek radiance or the void?
After many adventures our band of dogged heroes, minus the mysterious Alzav, have each gained a portion of a powerful artefact long ago shattered. They wish to face the Sovereign head on and save the world from the demons pouring in to purge it from the star-spawn set to spread from this world to the entire tree it rests upon. But to do that they must head to the Forge of Brilliance for answers and in doing so may well cross blades with the Sovereign’s last living child, Gladdinore.
Alzav saw a vision months ago of an island floating in the sky above the belfry, and that is where the Sovereign, imprisoned or in self imposed exile, observes the end of this world. It is hoped the Forge will grant the means to tread upon that accursed, lonely place. Win or lose, this tale will be through in a matter of weeks.
Big post today! If you skim until you find your username you’ll see the bit you need to read in particular.
—
Five weeks ago you secured Ben’s little cave home and helped carve out some rudimentary furnishing from the nearby beech trees. Witch-Knight Simon opted to stay with him. You fully recovered from your many injuries and further honed your skills. On the day you said goodbye a fierce wind shuck the sky and a vast shadow crossed over the billowing meadows—the dragon was still on the hunt for you. So far, it has not found you. @AustinP0027
What condition did the dragon look to be in as it flew off into the distance? What weakness do you now know dragon’s suffer?
Four weeks ago you delved into a collapsed ruin overhanging a great pit in search of the gift Ben forged for you. You fought a terrible creature there in the dark, gravely wounding it. It scuttled off further than you cared to tread, and you claimed the gift as your prize. @Zomro
What did Ben forge for the party? Who is currently making use of it? Choose a single rare magical item. It can be from any book you can get your hands on.
Three weeks ago you were well on your way to the so called Forge of Brilliance. You caught sight of huddled masses beyond the tree line, shrieking and moaning strange hymns. Upon a bonfire at the heart of those gathered was a headless stag. You moved on quickly. @mrpaku
To what were they praying to? What did they hope this power would ward against? Finally, what made these people dangerous?
Two weeks ago your march was halted as you came upon a massive canyon that dropped away an unfathomable distance. Deep below,in the dark of the world, the gnarled roots of the world tree could be seen in all their wonder. @kime
How did you cross the divide, and what was lost in the process? What unique feature did the demons crawling up from the canyon have?
One week ago you saw Gladdinore standing upon a leaning fortress half sunk into the red earth. A foul thing, a man-centipede abomination as large as a draft horse and three times as long, leapt to strike her down—you blinked, and she had cut it in twain and landed with a thunderous crash into a battlement some yards away. Another blink and she was gone. @fadingathedges
A chattering maggot the size of a dog slithered up to you that night and revealed to you a secret about Gladdinore. What did he say? How can this be used to your advantage?
Yesterday a sandstorm struck. The landscape had abruptly shifted to a lifeless desert of red sand. Mere hints of architecture dot the landscape, each one bent inwards like teeth in a sharks maw. You were forced to wait it out in the hollow remnants of a sand sunken spire, and it was here you truly rested for the first time in over a month. The battles with monsters have grown constant as of late. It’s become impossible to know, perhaps to even care, if the thing presently snapping at your life is a beast, demon or something worse from beyond the stars. Within the spire you found only one thing of note, a phrase cut into the floor, written in the Belfry Cant only Arthur can read. It said “BEWARE THE ART OF SEVERANCE — FEAR MORE THE RETURN OF THE ENTIRE”.
The dried up corpse, its elongated limbs and second pair of arms, the dull dagger eternally stuck in that final letter, was just another corpse now. You’ve seen stranger. No good equipment on it, Gruush checked.
Today you arrive at the Forge of Brilliance. You see no hint of black furnace smoke, no bellows fed fire. Whatever manner this land is a forge, it is not of iron armaments…
It is clear to you that the mighty rock foundations of each building were pulled up directly from the land beneath. The repetitious arrangement of chasms and silent, hovering stone tell a tale of arcane mastery and a disquieting isolation. The master of this place, whoever that might have been or may be, wanted to distance themselves from the wretched land below… and perhaps to keep whatever was up there from escaping…
Alright, let’s get back into this slowly. Take as many days as you like to answer your questions, feel free to do it a bit at a time. We can talk freely in and out of character until we’re up to speed.
Adventurers
Five weeks ago you secured Ben’s little cave home and helped carve out some rudimentary furnishing from the nearby beech trees. Witch-Knight Simon opted to stay with him. You fully recovered from your many injuries and further honed your skills. On the day you said goodbye a fierce wind shuck the sky and a vast shadow crossed over the billowing meadows—the dragon was still on the hunt for you. So far, it has not found you. @AustinP0027
What condition did the dragon look to be in as it flew off into the distance? What weakness do you now know dragon’s suffer?
The dragon was clearly injured, flying more slowly than normally able to. It's scales were struck with streaks of what looked like lightning. You see, Arthur had learned something, when grasping the powerful shard that was now embedded in his forehead. Dragons were weak to pure arcane energy. Protected from elements usually, the pure arcane energy itself, devoid of any elemental affliction, dove past their magical defenses.
And so, struck by the power the shard gave off when he touched it, the dragon had been battered about. It's wings bruised, it's scales left with a lasting reminder of the power it had been guarding.
After battling the vicious creature which had so gravely wounded Ben, the party discovered the item which he had forged for them. An ornate cube, forged from silvered steel, covered in intricate gilded designs of Giant runes. Each face of the cube capable of being pressed inwards. When a faced is pressed, the cube emits a field of force which, depending on which face was pressed, could prevent certain matter or energies from bypassing it. Ben knew the party would face numerous perils of unknown origin, and he hoped the cube's versatile nature would serve them well.
Ben gave us a Cube of Force (rules in the DMG). IIRC, Alzav has a connection to giants (descended from them, right?), so I think he'd be holding the item, having an instinctual ability to activate its magic
Three weeks ago you were well on your way to the so called Forge of Brilliance. You caught sight of huddled masses beyond the tree line, shrieking and moaning strange hymns. Upon a bonfire at the heart of those gathered was a headless stag. You moved on quickly. @mrpaku
To what were they praying to? What did they hope this power would ward against? Finally, what made these people dangerous?
We came upon them in the night while discretely marching up a hill overlooking their wood. The party nearly walked on without stopping, hoping to make time during the early evening hours and put off by a severe foul odor. But through the hoarse voices and insidious chants that rose up on the evening breeze, a familiar name was heard uttered: "Galilei". The group turned to see Arthur subconsciously clutch at his wrist. And so, after a brief discussion, we approached quietly, crawling towards the swaying trees on our bellies. The closer we came, the more the true horrors of that place revealed themself in the firelight...
The "stag" being cooked upon the fire was purple, with bulbous, mottled skin that flaked off like a rotten snake's. "A Carriaff," the Rogue whispered to the others. "Star-Spawn." Alzav and Arthur met eyes for a moment: how did the Thief happen to know such a thing? Nearby, the Cleric peered keenly into the clearing. Kirina almost gasped aloud, clasping hands to her mouth to catch the sound. The others turned to look at what she had just seen.
Around the bonfire, the figures swayed wildly and called out unintelligible gibberish, either heavily drunk or in religious ecstasy, it was impossible to say which. The hulking shapes varied from the size of large men to ogres, but all the proportions were very, very off somehow...something was incredibly wrong here.
We watched as one of the things stumbled into another nearby, and with a great SHLORP-ing sound (like water being sucked down a drain) the group witnessed the first creature became entangled in, part of the other, the pair pulling into each other like taffy. It was then the party realized what we were witnessing: these things were human, once. Consuming the flesh of the Star-Spawn had done something to their mortal shells, turned their flesh and bone and minds into wax and flowstone and jelly. The "ogres" were in actuality each a great mass of limbs and faces and torsos, a screeching cacophony of tortured, rapturous voices from half a dozen throats. Occasionally, one of the creatures would grow too large, and topple over in almost comical fashion, displacing a great mass of bemused "individuals" upon the floor of the wood in wet heaps, each with the wrong eyes, mismatched limbs, a mind broken across too-many peoples.
One of these wretched things, their face a twisted mockery of anything resembling humanity, pulled themself together near the fire and looked curiously towards where the party hides on the other side of the trees. Within an instant, Solomon had gotten the group's attention, and silently made the sign to beat a hasty retreat, back where we had come from, quick and quiet-like. By the time the creatures had coordinated enough to examine the tree-line, we were well on our way to the other side of the hill, breathing heavy but safe and unhindered.
Later, we recalled what little we had learned that night. Taken individually (and in the safe light of morning), the creatures seemed more pathetic than threats, but it was possible they could spread their corruption through touch alone. The chanting had been mostly unintelligible, but the group all agreed they had repeatedly heard the phrases "Star-Ascendant", "The Final Dark", and "By the Augur of Galilei". Finally, we weren't able to identify the corrupted by their kin (not anymore), but what few still wore scraps of clothing were each marked with a bloody handprint upon the chest, with a golden eye drawn upon the center of the palm
One week ago you saw Gladdinore standing upon a leaning fortress half sunk into the red earth. A foul thing, a man-centipede abomination as large as a draft horse and three times as long, leapt to strike her down—you blinked, and she had cut it in twain and landed with a thunderous crash into a battlement some yards away. Another blink and she was gone.
A chattering maggot the size of a dog slithered up to you that night and revealed to you a secret about Gladdinore. What did he say? How can this be used to your advantage?
"Gladinore's secret, a twist of fate,
Not just an observer, but a starspawn's mate.
Bound by love transcending all bounds,
A union forbidden, where destiny resounds.
Eldritch queen, now part of the scheme,
Her eyes reflecting an otherworldly gleam.
Starspawn's essence flows within her veins,
A twist of destiny, where eldritch power reigns.
She weaves the starspawn's fate and own,
A cosmic lineage, a seedling sown.
Her heart a bridge 'twixt realms unknown,
A twist that even she had never known.
In whispered tongues, she understands,
The otherworldly, the void's demands.
Her ambition: equilibrium intact,
Starspawn's purpose, a cryptic pact.
No longer separate, queen and spawn entwined,
A secret war in the depths of her mind.
Gladinore's yoke, a bond of dread and light,
A starspawn's love, a twist in the cosmic night."
Alzav blinks at the huge maggot. "What the fuck?" He tosses the otherworldly busker a coin.
Alzav has no thought on how any of this is advantageous, or how much of it is true. He will carry an illusory image of the words to the group.
* * * * * <This is a bit of a callback, if too far gone let me know. I think the most reasonable interpretation might be to bring the visions and conversation into the present?>
Alzav starts, as if from a reverie, withdrawing his hand. "I'll hold onto this, I think." Alzav steps on the throat of the broom, just above the where the twigs are bundled to the stave, and floats back and into the sky. His face is guarded. "Gruush. Tell us what it is that you seek."
Alzav has no thought on how any of this is advantageous, or how much of it is true. He will carry an illusory image of the words to the group.
Alzav starts, as if from a reverie, withdrawing his hand. "I'll hold onto this, I think." Alzav steps on the throat of the broom, just above the where the twigs are bundled to the stave, and floats back and into the sky. His face is guarded. "Gruush. Tell us what it is that you seek."
The Rogue's face falls strangely confused as Alzav relays the sonorous vision to the group. He at different points in the tale looks bewildered, entranced, euphoric. At the story's end, the red headed thief sits silent for a full ten seconds. Then, he bursts into uncontrollable laughter, holding his sides as though they were in pain, tears rolling down his cheeks. "Ahhh!..." he breathes. "Ahaha! So that's what became of Gladinore! Oh...hoho...a poet couldn't have crafted a more perfect wrinkle! The thing...the very thing..."
Wiping a single tear from his left yellow eye, the lanky man turns to face the party, his fanged jaw split into a grin of pure mirth, pure joy. He makes no further efforts to clear the vertical streaks from his dirty face, and doesn't seem to notice the Sorcerer keep his distance. "What I seek...yes... it's very simple, my friend Alzav. Nothing too out of the way, I can assure you."
"I seek the one responsible for this...all of this. The architect of every misfortune, every sickness in this broken, abandoned place. I aim to stand before the Sovereign. Face to face. And have a chat."
The sky above is a pale blue. The sun seems to provide no heat. It is mild, especially for the desert terrain.
With the wind at your backs you survey the landscape before you. Floating rock connected by bridges. Upon the rocks, tall towers. Thin slits of windows reveal nought but darkness within, and those windows are few indeed.
But not all the rocks, so lifted into the air by ancient magics, remain as they were intended to be. Some are tilted to the side. Others hang significantly, perilously lower than the others. Most bridges have been twisted and snapped where they once connected to a neighbouring isle.
—
Arthur
This all brings to mind the architecture of the pillar you recently saw that looked as if it fell from the sky, as well as, and much more frighteningly, the ruin within the mushroom forest. It raised from the earth when you clasped the black orb held in a pedestal at its top.
—
Gruush
You take it all in.
Gruush’s eyes only:
Hallo!
I’ll show everyone else the map later, but for now, you know the layout inexplicably.
a. That’s where the party is right now.
b. There’s a burial site near the cliff. Rock mounds. They’re dead, and there aren’t undead any more.
c. A gatehouse. You’d have to display your right to be here to get through. You just know. Go through here to get to the first bridge.
d. A big bridge. Derelict. Cracked off at the end, but adventurous types can clear the gap easily.
e. A barren rock and then another bridge. No problems.
f. Tall towers of knowledge and secrets kept away from the outside world.
g. A humongous tree the size of a castle. Its bark is white and its few leaves are deep purple. This was grown as part of a plan that was never finished. You just know that.
h. The bridge leading this way is broken beyond use. You see smoke rising from small homes. They don’t have the right to be here.
i. A rock that is turned sideways and far lower than the others. Roots from the tree reach down to it.
j. The forge. Here you’ll find what you need to arrive at the Sovereign’s door. Can’t be reached by a bridge.
k. Huge hives. Brings to mind termites.
l. Stairs built into the cliffs, ending at the mouth of a cave.
Ask me stuff all the time and I’ll give you an honest answer. You know your way around here.
—
We’ll push on whenever, I just wanted to post Gruush’s secret bit before I got too busy.
Two weeks ago your march was halted as you came upon a massive canyon that dropped away an unfathomable distance. Deep below,in the dark of the world, the gnarled roots of the world tree could be seen in all their wonder. @kime
How did you cross the divide, and what was lost in the process? What unique feature did the demons crawling up from the canyon have?
We crossed the divide with a great expenditure of magic and skills, weaving together a series of small bridges and platforms to gain height and a bit of distance with ice, ropes, and gathered wood. Eventually, the group fashioned together a sort of glider to make the rest of the distance, leaving behind their ramshackle structure (which collapsed soon after...)
It wasn't the worst, but on the glide over the pure vision of the World Tree's roots were visible by everyone, unobscured in all their raw power. The roots were not something meant to be seen by mortal eyes, even empowered by shards of the Crown Eternal as many of the group were. The memory of the World Tree's roots will never fade, never lose freshness. The party will always be able to recall it as though they just saw them, whether a day later or a hundred years. There will always be a space of the group's memories that cannot be filled with anything else, and the sheer presence of the tree's roots will be with them forever.
The strangest thing about the demons was that--touched by the life-giving roots of the World Tree--they looked beautiful. The demons brought with them a sense of hope and life, which touched everyone in the group who saw them in a deeper way than their outward appearances. It was bizarre and confusing.
Gruush! Make a Deception check, or simply be honest and speak plainly if you’ve nothing to hide.
I mean, "being incredibly, purposefully vague" isn't necessarily lying...but I wanna see how the dice play this one out, feel like its gonna be real interesting either way .
As Gruush and Alzav lock eyes, the rest of you survey what is before you.
To your immediate right is a burial mound. Nothing more than piled up rocks and a tattered flagpole planted at an angle.
Ahead, there is a dilapidated gatehouse at the edge of a cliff overlooking a cracked bridge. The bridge leads to the first of many floating islands. The gatehouse is broad, and there is no way to walk around it safely. It’s through it, or over it. However, it is not especially long—just one large, open room by the looks of things. The closest set of double doors are pushed inwards, while the ones leading out to the bridge are opened just a crack. Light spills in from the rooftop; must be missing tiles.
The architecture is exotic, but you note built to a human standard. You can practically smell old magic leaking from the masonry. Traps, probably.
You are vividly aware of an aura in the shape of a human, and trailing from that shape a second aura, that of a large beast, a lion perhaps, something feline. Abjuration and enchantment.
You focus. Yes, the light is playing across those shapes strangely. Not exactly invisible, but only there when you care to check.
“You may cross through this gatehouse if you have the right. Have you the right?”
Is all you get for a reply.
You feel whatever this thing is, it was put here at a time separate from the many wars. There’s no malice there, it’s just doing what it was put here for. For now at least you can back out of here to think it over, if you wish.
Arthur pauses, then turns back to the group. "Uh...do we?"
The Rogue, unnatural smirk still lingering upon his lower jaw, slowly breaks away from Alzav's gaze. He turns to Arthur with his signature toothy grin and nods along happily. Placing his disparate eyes into the peephole, he assures the keeper: "We have every right to be here, friend....in fact, we've been personally invited! If you'll just check the list..."
The shape becomes almost visible, veins of light and shadow appear only briefly as it bows before you. The upper body of a woman, the torso of a great beast, the point where they meet is not quite as clean as you’d expect.
Perhaps to your allies surprise, it heeds your voice willingly.
“Proceed.”
You’re in, you’re out, on to the bridge. The gatehouse causes you no trouble. Lead the way!
The Rogue nods politely as he passes by the sphinx-like creature. Turning back to the others, he announces, "Beast's Crossing, just ahead." The Thief notes the concerned looks on his companion's faces. With a kind smile, he adds, "Don't worry, s'just an old name! We'd need be more concerned about the masonry crumbling underfoot than anything crawling from out the rocks..."
Posts
"Is there something that was shared with the Giant last we saw him?" the Assassin inquires, agreeing quietly with the Wizards assessment. "Something...a word, a tale...one of us left him with, that only he would know?"
You spend considerable time discuss how you approach this situation. The world itself seems to pause, offering you no insight. It’s as if days drift by as you stand there mulling it over.
“What you all looking at?” Ben says, peering over your shoulders.
He’s much older than you recall, and only has one arm. He takes on a lopsided grin as you notice.
“Lost it in a fight. Not much of a smith with one arm, eh?”, his face shifts suddenly, and he drops his latest kill, a deer, “Missed you.”
Together you enter the hole, Ben muttering that he keeps meaning to fix up the place as you go. Some distance in you see the hole give way to ancient architecture, angular patterns adorning flat granite, worn almost entirely away. At one end you see a partially broken frame with hits of silvery glass embedded in it. The area doesn’t branch away to other passages; makes you think of a stone coffin fit for dozens. There’s no furnishings here save a badly made forge, stone cold, never been lit.
“I made something for you all, long ago. But I lost it.”, he points vaguely westward.
After a moment, he says, “Have you heard? About the demons at the edge of the mist? Trying to get through. A little bird-thing told me some had. Won’t be long until, you know, the world outside.”
He claps his hand vertically against the granite floor.
Simon, who has been with you this whole time and was vital in the last battle, chooses to stay with Ben.
The ginger haired Assassin follows Ben into the cave first, helping (meagerly) to take up the back end of the deer. Quietly helping to dress the creature, the Rogue waits until the one-armed Giant finishes before quietly inquiring, "How long has it been for you, Ben, since you last saw the lot of us? And who took your arm? Do you...need for anything in here?"
The red headed killer hacks at the night's offering, his cleaned and sharpened daggers slicing through tendon and cartildge. He adds, "You said a bird told you of Demons at the edges...any idea what drew them? What yet contains them?"
Does the holy symbol, the one for Arora that we got from the fortress, have any special properties? I was thinking of offering it to Ben since it's a memento of his people and I already have a basic symbol.
“The demons are pouring out from the depths below our world for it is surely the end times. As to the foggy border of these lands? I always thought it divine intervention—too much bad blood split here. I cannot say it will be enough, given time.”
He takes a look at Gruush’s mangled map, and rubs a bit of chalk around three of the edges. Seems the demons are on the verge of spilling out into the lands you came from.
He looks up from the map, “Winters upon winters. No matter. My arm was lost when my last home was took… it was… something terrible to behold. It came down from the heavens one starry night. At first I could not make out its shape… and then… I did not want to. I remember… that ringed hand… where a face should be. It took the gift I had made for you.”
He shudders and says no more.
Some time passes, but Ben does lament his lack of furnishings, and wishes he could smith again. Perhaps with help he could?
They’re both mostly the same holy symbol. Go for it! Where gods are real it might well be of great help.
"Do you recall where this creature that stole your creation went? It might not be much, but we might perhaps be able to deliver some retribution upon it for what it has done to you."
“I will cherish it always.”, he says evenly.
He squints at Solomon.
“I knew you’d want to fight it. You are heroes, after all. It soothes my soul, so know there are good little ones. I suppose I must help you there, for you’ll go regardless.”
He draws a pretty accurate dotted line from here to his last residence. He goes on to say it was a shrine built long, long before the belfry, but clearly of that culture. A place built into the valley’s side, with marvellous use of tiny tunnels built into stone to allow the wind to play holy melodies. There was a bell once, he is sure, perhaps even the very bell that swung at the belfry, moved by some group in the past.
Getting there won’t be a problem. When you leave, I’ll be rolling an encounter for fun, but there’s nothing to it.
Is there more to this little grotto? I’ll leave your next actions up to you.
With it being summer I haven’t posted as often and I don’t expect you to, but if this goes over a week I’ll call summer break!
Get in touch later this year and we’ll do a bit of a time skip and finish up.
Hello all! It’s no secret I don’t have much interest in Wizard of the Coast’s stuff these days, but I have enjoyed this adventure a lot despite that.
I’m wondering if some time in the near future you’d like to wrap this up? I’m easy. It’d start whenever the person with the latest proposed date says so.
I’m thinking you could answer some questions about what the party did next, maybe roll some bones to determine some outcomes, then skip to the finale.
I don’t know about you, but I’m in this now to see what choices the characters make when confronted with the Sovereign, and the chance to have infinite cosmic power!
Thoughts?
I'm pretty much good to go whenever, all my summer stuff has wrapped up, so now it's back to normal-ish.
Most of my "big" summer stuff is done and I can usually check in, but I still probably won't be able to participate regularly until (very) early September when the kids head back to school
I'd also be stoked to have all my D&D characters properly retired, since I'm hoping to put together a long-form ICON campaign around that same time with two regular players from the forum and two new players still TBD ( @kime, I might reach out to see if you have any tips/hints for using the system, if that's alright with you!)
As far as D&D goes, my IRL doesn't use it currently, but I'm still overall fine with it and would happily play in a game if given the chance. I just take any opportunity to TTRPG, honestly.
It's just so much easier to find async D&D 5e games than anything else.
Edit: oh, and got the actual question, I don't think I have many schedule restraints now. Away most of August, but I should be able to play, just with weird hours.
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Hello! We’ll hold off until 7th of August I reckon. August will just be answering questions to fill in the journey to the end.
After many adventures our band of dogged heroes, minus the mysterious Alzav, have each gained a portion of a powerful artefact long ago shattered. They wish to face the Sovereign head on and save the world from the demons pouring in to purge it from the star-spawn set to spread from this world to the entire tree it rests upon. But to do that they must head to the Forge of Brilliance for answers and in doing so may well cross blades with the Sovereign’s last living child, Gladdinore.
Alzav saw a vision months ago of an island floating in the sky above the belfry, and that is where the Sovereign, imprisoned or in self imposed exile, observes the end of this world. It is hoped the Forge will grant the means to tread upon that accursed, lonely place. Win or lose, this tale will be through in a matter of weeks.
Big post today! If you skim until you find your username you’ll see the bit you need to read in particular.
—
Five weeks ago you secured Ben’s little cave home and helped carve out some rudimentary furnishing from the nearby beech trees. Witch-Knight Simon opted to stay with him. You fully recovered from your many injuries and further honed your skills. On the day you said goodbye a fierce wind shuck the sky and a vast shadow crossed over the billowing meadows—the dragon was still on the hunt for you. So far, it has not found you.
@AustinP0027
What condition did the dragon look to be in as it flew off into the distance? What weakness do you now know dragon’s suffer?
Four weeks ago you delved into a collapsed ruin overhanging a great pit in search of the gift Ben forged for you. You fought a terrible creature there in the dark, gravely wounding it. It scuttled off further than you cared to tread, and you claimed the gift as your prize.
@Zomro
What did Ben forge for the party? Who is currently making use of it?
Choose a single rare magical item. It can be from any book you can get your hands on.
Three weeks ago you were well on your way to the so called Forge of Brilliance. You caught sight of huddled masses beyond the tree line, shrieking and moaning strange hymns. Upon a bonfire at the heart of those gathered was a headless stag. You moved on quickly.
@mrpaku
To what were they praying to? What did they hope this power would ward against? Finally, what made these people dangerous?
Two weeks ago your march was halted as you came upon a massive canyon that dropped away an unfathomable distance. Deep below,in the dark of the world, the gnarled roots of the world tree could be seen in all their wonder.
@kime
How did you cross the divide, and what was lost in the process? What unique feature did the demons crawling up from the canyon have?
One week ago you saw Gladdinore standing upon a leaning fortress half sunk into the red earth. A foul thing, a man-centipede abomination as large as a draft horse and three times as long, leapt to strike her down—you blinked, and she had cut it in twain and landed with a thunderous crash into a battlement some yards away. Another blink and she was gone.
@fadingathedges
A chattering maggot the size of a dog slithered up to you that night and revealed to you a secret about Gladdinore. What did he say? How can this be used to your advantage?
Yesterday a sandstorm struck. The landscape had abruptly shifted to a lifeless desert of red sand. Mere hints of architecture dot the landscape, each one bent inwards like teeth in a sharks maw. You were forced to wait it out in the hollow remnants of a sand sunken spire, and it was here you truly rested for the first time in over a month. The battles with monsters have grown constant as of late. It’s become impossible to know, perhaps to even care, if the thing presently snapping at your life is a beast, demon or something worse from beyond the stars. Within the spire you found only one thing of note, a phrase cut into the floor, written in the Belfry Cant only Arthur can read. It said “BEWARE THE ART OF SEVERANCE — FEAR MORE THE RETURN OF THE ENTIRE”.
The dried up corpse, its elongated limbs and second pair of arms, the dull dagger eternally stuck in that final letter, was just another corpse now. You’ve seen stranger. No good equipment on it, Gruush checked.
Today you arrive at the Forge of Brilliance. You see no hint of black furnace smoke, no bellows fed fire. Whatever manner this land is a forge, it is not of iron armaments…
It is clear to you that the mighty rock foundations of each building were pulled up directly from the land beneath. The repetitious arrangement of chasms and silent, hovering stone tell a tale of arcane mastery and a disquieting isolation. The master of this place, whoever that might have been or may be, wanted to distance themselves from the wretched land below… and perhaps to keep whatever was up there from escaping…
—
Alright, let’s get back into this slowly. Take as many days as you like to answer your questions, feel free to do it a bit at a time. We can talk freely in and out of character until we’re up to speed.
The dragon was clearly injured, flying more slowly than normally able to. It's scales were struck with streaks of what looked like lightning. You see, Arthur had learned something, when grasping the powerful shard that was now embedded in his forehead. Dragons were weak to pure arcane energy. Protected from elements usually, the pure arcane energy itself, devoid of any elemental affliction, dove past their magical defenses.
And so, struck by the power the shard gave off when he touched it, the dragon had been battered about. It's wings bruised, it's scales left with a lasting reminder of the power it had been guarding.
Ben gave us a Cube of Force (rules in the DMG). IIRC, Alzav has a connection to giants (descended from them, right?), so I think he'd be holding the item, having an instinctual ability to activate its magic
We came upon them in the night while discretely marching up a hill overlooking their wood. The party nearly walked on without stopping, hoping to make time during the early evening hours and put off by a severe foul odor. But through the hoarse voices and insidious chants that rose up on the evening breeze, a familiar name was heard uttered: "Galilei". The group turned to see Arthur subconsciously clutch at his wrist. And so, after a brief discussion, we approached quietly, crawling towards the swaying trees on our bellies. The closer we came, the more the true horrors of that place revealed themself in the firelight...
The "stag" being cooked upon the fire was purple, with bulbous, mottled skin that flaked off like a rotten snake's. "A Carriaff," the Rogue whispered to the others. "Star-Spawn." Alzav and Arthur met eyes for a moment: how did the Thief happen to know such a thing? Nearby, the Cleric peered keenly into the clearing. Kirina almost gasped aloud, clasping hands to her mouth to catch the sound. The others turned to look at what she had just seen.
Around the bonfire, the figures swayed wildly and called out unintelligible gibberish, either heavily drunk or in religious ecstasy, it was impossible to say which. The hulking shapes varied from the size of large men to ogres, but all the proportions were very, very off somehow...something was incredibly wrong here.
We watched as one of the things stumbled into another nearby, and with a great SHLORP-ing sound (like water being sucked down a drain) the group witnessed the first creature became entangled in, part of the other, the pair pulling into each other like taffy. It was then the party realized what we were witnessing: these things were human, once. Consuming the flesh of the Star-Spawn had done something to their mortal shells, turned their flesh and bone and minds into wax and flowstone and jelly. The "ogres" were in actuality each a great mass of limbs and faces and torsos, a screeching cacophony of tortured, rapturous voices from half a dozen throats. Occasionally, one of the creatures would grow too large, and topple over in almost comical fashion, displacing a great mass of bemused "individuals" upon the floor of the wood in wet heaps, each with the wrong eyes, mismatched limbs, a mind broken across too-many peoples.
One of these wretched things, their face a twisted mockery of anything resembling humanity, pulled themself together near the fire and looked curiously towards where the party hides on the other side of the trees. Within an instant, Solomon had gotten the group's attention, and silently made the sign to beat a hasty retreat, back where we had come from, quick and quiet-like. By the time the creatures had coordinated enough to examine the tree-line, we were well on our way to the other side of the hill, breathing heavy but safe and unhindered.
Later, we recalled what little we had learned that night. Taken individually (and in the safe light of morning), the creatures seemed more pathetic than threats, but it was possible they could spread their corruption through touch alone. The chanting had been mostly unintelligible, but the group all agreed they had repeatedly heard the phrases "Star-Ascendant", "The Final Dark", and "By the Augur of Galilei". Finally, we weren't able to identify the corrupted by their kin (not anymore), but what few still wore scraps of clothing were each marked with a bloody handprint upon the chest, with a golden eye drawn upon the center of the palm
"Gladinore's secret, a twist of fate,
Not just an observer, but a starspawn's mate.
Bound by love transcending all bounds,
A union forbidden, where destiny resounds.
Eldritch queen, now part of the scheme,
Her eyes reflecting an otherworldly gleam.
Starspawn's essence flows within her veins,
A twist of destiny, where eldritch power reigns.
She weaves the starspawn's fate and own,
A cosmic lineage, a seedling sown.
Her heart a bridge 'twixt realms unknown,
A twist that even she had never known.
In whispered tongues, she understands,
The otherworldly, the void's demands.
Her ambition: equilibrium intact,
Starspawn's purpose, a cryptic pact.
No longer separate, queen and spawn entwined,
A secret war in the depths of her mind.
Gladinore's yoke, a bond of dread and light,
A starspawn's love, a twist in the cosmic night."
Alzav blinks at the huge maggot. "What the fuck?" He tosses the otherworldly busker a coin.
Alzav has no thought on how any of this is advantageous, or how much of it is true. He will carry an illusory image of the words to the group.
* * * * * <This is a bit of a callback, if too far gone let me know. I think the most reasonable interpretation might be to bring the visions and conversation into the present?>
Alzav starts, as if from a reverie, withdrawing his hand. "I'll hold onto this, I think." Alzav steps on the throat of the broom, just above the where the twigs are bundled to the stave, and floats back and into the sky. His face is guarded. "Gruush. Tell us what it is that you seek."
The Rogue's face falls strangely confused as Alzav relays the sonorous vision to the group. He at different points in the tale looks bewildered, entranced, euphoric. At the story's end, the red headed thief sits silent for a full ten seconds. Then, he bursts into uncontrollable laughter, holding his sides as though they were in pain, tears rolling down his cheeks. "Ahhh!..." he breathes. "Ahaha! So that's what became of Gladinore! Oh...hoho...a poet couldn't have crafted a more perfect wrinkle! The thing...the very thing..."
Wiping a single tear from his left yellow eye, the lanky man turns to face the party, his fanged jaw split into a grin of pure mirth, pure joy. He makes no further efforts to clear the vertical streaks from his dirty face, and doesn't seem to notice the Sorcerer keep his distance. "What I seek...yes... it's very simple, my friend Alzav. Nothing too out of the way, I can assure you."
"I seek the one responsible for this...all of this. The architect of every misfortune, every sickness in this broken, abandoned place. I aim to stand before the Sovereign. Face to face. And have a chat."
Adventurers
The sky above is a pale blue. The sun seems to provide no heat. It is mild, especially for the desert terrain.
With the wind at your backs you survey the landscape before you. Floating rock connected by bridges. Upon the rocks, tall towers. Thin slits of windows reveal nought but darkness within, and those windows are few indeed.
But not all the rocks, so lifted into the air by ancient magics, remain as they were intended to be. Some are tilted to the side. Others hang significantly, perilously lower than the others. Most bridges have been twisted and snapped where they once connected to a neighbouring isle.
—
Arthur
This all brings to mind the architecture of the pillar you recently saw that looked as if it fell from the sky, as well as, and much more frighteningly, the ruin within the mushroom forest. It raised from the earth when you clasped the black orb held in a pedestal at its top.
—
Gruush
You take it all in.
Gruush’s eyes only:
I’ll show everyone else the map later, but for now, you know the layout inexplicably.
a. That’s where the party is right now.
b. There’s a burial site near the cliff. Rock mounds. They’re dead, and there aren’t undead any more.
c. A gatehouse. You’d have to display your right to be here to get through. You just know. Go through here to get to the first bridge.
d. A big bridge. Derelict. Cracked off at the end, but adventurous types can clear the gap easily.
e. A barren rock and then another bridge. No problems.
f. Tall towers of knowledge and secrets kept away from the outside world.
g. A humongous tree the size of a castle. Its bark is white and its few leaves are deep purple. This was grown as part of a plan that was never finished. You just know that.
h. The bridge leading this way is broken beyond use. You see smoke rising from small homes. They don’t have the right to be here.
i. A rock that is turned sideways and far lower than the others. Roots from the tree reach down to it.
j. The forge. Here you’ll find what you need to arrive at the Sovereign’s door. Can’t be reached by a bridge.
k. Huge hives. Brings to mind termites.
l. Stairs built into the cliffs, ending at the mouth of a cave.
Ask me stuff all the time and I’ll give you an honest answer. You know your way around here.
—
We’ll push on whenever, I just wanted to post Gruush’s secret bit before I got too busy.
So I’m taking it Alzav doesn’t believe Gruush, or find his comment about having a chat with the Sovereign not serious enough for the situation.
Alzav! Make an Insight check!
Gruush! Make a Deception check, or simply be honest and speak plainly if you’ve nothing to hide.
If Alzav’s Insight check is at least 10 you’ll learn good information about Gruush through your psychic power.
If Gruush wins the contested roll, in-character you’ll have to accept his word, for now. You can remain suspicious.
We crossed the divide with a great expenditure of magic and skills, weaving together a series of small bridges and platforms to gain height and a bit of distance with ice, ropes, and gathered wood. Eventually, the group fashioned together a sort of glider to make the rest of the distance, leaving behind their ramshackle structure (which collapsed soon after...)
It wasn't the worst, but on the glide over the pure vision of the World Tree's roots were visible by everyone, unobscured in all their raw power. The roots were not something meant to be seen by mortal eyes, even empowered by shards of the Crown Eternal as many of the group were. The memory of the World Tree's roots will never fade, never lose freshness. The party will always be able to recall it as though they just saw them, whether a day later or a hundred years. There will always be a space of the group's memories that cannot be filled with anything else, and the sheer presence of the tree's roots will be with them forever.
The strangest thing about the demons was that--touched by the life-giving roots of the World Tree--they looked beautiful. The demons brought with them a sense of hope and life, which touched everyone in the group who saw them in a deeper way than their outward appearances. It was bizarre and confusing.
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I mean, "being incredibly, purposefully vague" isn't necessarily lying...but I wanna see how the dice play this one out, feel like its gonna be real interesting either way .
Geth roll 1d20+1 for No, *You're* Acting Weird
As Gruush and Alzav lock eyes, the rest of you survey what is before you.
To your immediate right is a burial mound. Nothing more than piled up rocks and a tattered flagpole planted at an angle.
Ahead, there is a dilapidated gatehouse at the edge of a cliff overlooking a cracked bridge. The bridge leads to the first of many floating islands. The gatehouse is broad, and there is no way to walk around it safely. It’s through it, or over it. However, it is not especially long—just one large, open room by the looks of things. The closest set of double doors are pushed inwards, while the ones leading out to the bridge are opened just a crack. Light spills in from the rooftop; must be missing tiles.
The architecture is exotic, but you note built to a human standard. You can practically smell old magic leaking from the masonry. Traps, probably.
What do you do?
@mrpaku @kime @Zomro @fadingathedges @AustinP0027
We haven’t really used the owl for much, but I’d say they’re trained by now. Going forward they’ve got the classic owl stats—so Flyby is go.
He opens his book and starts chanting lightly, one hand holding his book as the other moves to draw symbols in the air in front of him.
Using my scribe skill to cast a ritual as a normal spell. Casting Detect Magic, which just takes an action so it's not even a full minute of waiting.
You are vividly aware of an aura in the shape of a human, and trailing from that shape a second aura, that of a large beast, a lion perhaps, something feline. Abjuration and enchantment.
You focus. Yes, the light is playing across those shapes strangely. Not exactly invisible, but only there when you care to check.
Taking a small step forward, he addressed them both. "Greetings. Are you here to assist? Or prevent entry?"
Guidance at the ready in case you need it!)
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“You may cross through this gatehouse if you have the right. Have you the right?”
Is all you get for a reply.
You feel whatever this thing is, it was put here at a time separate from the many wars. There’s no malice there, it’s just doing what it was put here for. For now at least you can back out of here to think it over, if you wish.
The Rogue, unnatural smirk still lingering upon his lower jaw, slowly breaks away from Alzav's gaze. He turns to Arthur with his signature toothy grin and nods along happily. Placing his disparate eyes into the peephole, he assures the keeper: "We have every right to be here, friend....in fact, we've been personally invited! If you'll just check the list..."
Geth roll 1d20+1 Deception
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The shape becomes almost visible, veins of light and shadow appear only briefly as it bows before you. The upper body of a woman, the torso of a great beast, the point where they meet is not quite as clean as you’d expect.
Perhaps to your allies surprise, it heeds your voice willingly.
“Proceed.”
You’re in, you’re out, on to the bridge. The gatehouse causes you no trouble. Lead the way!