Visit to the City of Light

Much has been achieved today


- You visited Methos’ treasure trove and learnt it had been plundered by adventurers. Then you managed to breach the inner chamber to find the real treasure trove (I will give out treasure just before next game, but if you want to send me five percentile rolls I can let you in on your big prize for the haul!) minus a staff of the psion. Will Methos hunt it down and wrest it from the hands of the God who thought it would better serve him? Perhaps he will invest in better defence and concealment of his cult artefacts… or perhaps… he did… perhaps… there is more in Methos tower than has currently been revealed…

- You visited the time shine and saved it from the assassin. Then you used the time chamber to get a vision of the arrival of the Tris (scholars for millennia will debate your account of this): a bright light like a shattering crystal streaks across a deserted land, and thousands of Tris arrive, battling aberrations. They quickly are victorious and set about building a civilisation. They have advanced crystallomancy (Methos was taking heavy notes here)

- You slew the assassin. Twice. But he’s not going to give up yet, and he seems to have a near endless supply of abyssal umberhulks, doesn’t he…

- You sent an embassy off to the beastmen, skylings and warlords to warn them off the future events, but have not yet had the chance to see them in person.

- Gerry finds out her pirates are bunkering down while the rest of the pirate lords begin a giant civil war. Things could get very much out of hand in a matter of only weeks.

- You met three of Lukats ‘daughters’ who offered her the first of seven pieces of a powerful artefact of the Mystic theurge. She may like to hunt it down or focus her attention on other options, it is up to her - such as a device to force the enemy to waste his attacks so you have a chance to cut him up. On the other hand, she may like to research the headband of the mystic theurge to see what it can do. ON the other hand, it may do just that…

- You, the first of your people EVER, have travelled and survived in the realm of light and seen the great City of Light when it once stood. Now you are legend.

- You met the current Emperor of the Tris as a young boy of extraordinary sorcerer talents.

- You learnt that if you can get a shrine of light set up somewhere in the time of the Tris, you can probably get Ikendri powered up to artefact level and pick him up 1000 years later in the present.

- You all receive one time smite attack (+cha to hit, +level to damage) as a blessing from being in the realm of light.

- There you met a being revered as a hero God – the mind flayer sorcerer Ka Sha Kahaknah. He blessed you with certain powers: Oma learnt how to speak with mind flayer larva, Methos gained the ability to imbdue weapons with psion bane ability (+2 hit, 2d6 extra damage) for a number of rounds equal to his charisma (these weapons can be taken from Methos and used against him). Others have yet to announce whether they have accepted the his gift – Ebon to have +2d6 v’s aberrations, Lukat to gain limited telepathy (can eavesdrop telepathic conversations, but cannot send or receive messages), and Gerry to become immune to mind blast. Karuch was not given any options, neither was the tiger or Scooby or C’ari. She’s still around.

- In three years time, Ka Sha Kahaknah will rise to lesser divinity by slaying the gods (and still no one tells you their names!) Yet he seems like a pretty good guy for now. (of course, that’s three years time in the far past, to you, it all happened a little under 10,000 years ago from your present time).

- Did I miss anything… what will you do now?



The place you enter in is perfectly bright, and yet your eyes can take in every detail with comfort. It seems you are in some kind of platform, surrounded by blue Sodalite pillars perfect for welcoming plane shifting travellers.


The majestic towers of gold and white light seem to stretch off infinitely into the distance. But at the centre of the city a pure while column of light pieces the city and extends unending above and below the city of light. It is the veil, through which only Gods may pass, and to pass though is to become a God - as did Great Enemy once, and may perhaps do again. The veil is as gossamer as a thin sheet of fabric, and feels just the same. Within, beings appear to be moving softly about, and occasionally their voices can be heard. It is a sacred place, an eternal place where all the past, present, and future is present as one eternal now. To dwell there would be to be able to travel to any moment in time in the universe, and thus to hold unimaginable power…


All around you in the City of light an overwhelming presence of peace, majesty and love overwhelms you. Never before have you felt more like you are in a place you belong – you are home. Whatever else happens to you, you know you will never be the same again…

The aincient Tris join the fight

It didn't take much convincing, not much at all. In essence, you simply told them the Enemy was comming from the future, not the Sultancy, and they said "Sit down while we check it out."

So in the meantime Gerry runs off with Horns to contine the Beastmen independance movement (or something), making herself a legend in the process, even speaking to the Emporer on their behalf. In the meantime, you manage to intercept a plot to seduce a young mother to demonic sorcery, and destroy the leader of the cult. With his charismatic leadership gone, sources say his lutenants will fight it out for years, possibly destroying themselves and their cult in the process. Another potential threat to the great Tris empire has been thwarted.

So after a week the Tris officals return with "Oh, yes, seems you were right. We'll sit down here while we get our armies nice and warmed up!" By try as you might, there seems to be no way the Tris can be saved - if not the Sultancy, or the sorcerers, or a Beastmen uprising, then by who? In three years they will no longer be a people. The Emporer knows this. Their Wizards know this. The people, however, do not, and though there are rumours, it is only mad men and prophets who speak of the impossibility of any force bringing the Tris low - they are mocked, and scorned. The Tris, who slew their own Gods! Destroyed? Bah!


Where will the Hero's travel to now?

The Sultancy joins the cause

Sunali is a changed man. The Sultancy went into great mourning for three weeks, their Sultan slain, their legendary general turned to madness, the supposed heir a three year old boy none would swear fealty to. The Sultancy, it seemed teetered on the brink of collapse.


Then, in a day, Sunali rises from the ashes like a phoenix to reclaim both throne and sword as the next Sultan. A repentant heart, he begs forgiveness of all he has wronged, refusing to wear the fine silks of the Sultan and instead becoming a King of leather and sackcloth.

In a day, faith in the empire is renewed. The mighty ballista’s are removed from the time portal at lights edge, but the work on the fleet of sky ships continues unabated. There are whispers that an unknown enemy, cunning in the extreme, awaits over the edge of the horizon – its diabolical tentacles reaching almost to the heart of the Sultans heir, till at last, a mysterious group of hero’s helped Sunali rediscover his purpose: to defend the Sultancy and it’s people to the last. If such rumours are true – that a new enemy is approaching – then it is surely time for all to wield a greater weight of responsibly in the New Sultancy, a time to put aside old grudges to concentrate on a greater threat… only time will tell…

The black gate opens

Never, not in your whole entire life, did you ever expect to see the inpenetrable black gate open.  Yet only now, for the first time since the city of light was destroyed thousands of year ago, does the black gate open.  Now, that you are the last of the shards of light (according to the words of the assassin), now that the Exile choose to make a last stand for their defence, now, with only two year until the Great Enemy arrives, does the Black gate open.

People can leave, and they do.  At first in timid groups shyly cringing between the black barbicians, now in great throngs.  They go to find allies, to find freedom, to find peace.

But it will all mean nothing if they don't prepare for the Great Enemy.  Three things must be done:

1- the warring nations must be convinced to join together for their own safety
2- powerful wepons must be found to defeat a God.
3- you, yourselves, myst be read to weild those weapons against a God.

Yet as you ponder your future, one thought fleets accross you mind.  It was not Palayon, the chair of the High council, that opened the gate.  It was not the ambitious Saphire lady, whose desire for that chair is well known.  But it was the voice of a single hero, one much younger than any who rule on the council.  The voice of Lukat, sorceress and priestess.

What has the city become?

The fallen city of light

Entering the room, it is filled with the most palpable sense of sadness you have ever encountered.  The room itself is desolate except for two things. First, a lone humanoid skeleton, clearly the last line of defence against the enemy, lies shattered on the floor, a small piece of parchment clasped in its hands.  And second, a once bright gem imprisoned in a dark miasma, floating high up in the ceiling.  The room here is split in half by the most oppressive dark curtain you have ever beheld.

...

First, there were no hero’s to champion our cause, we could not take the fight to his areas of crucial weaknesses. You left, you left not two years to the day before he arrived.

Second, even if we did have such heroes they would have no weapons that could slay a god. We would need to find weapons that can slay a god and typically, that requires artefact level magics.

Third, the nations were all divided. The sultancy and tris had spent their strength in war with each other, the beastmen were engulfed in civil strife, the skylings had just tried to ignore it and the pirates had fled cowardly. There were none to stand with us, and after he’d destroyed us, he destroyed them all as well, just out of spite it would seem. It was horrible…
...

Child, I am but a shadow of my soul, the last remaining memory that has clung to this tortured realm to give you this message! But I cannot last here… there is only one way to save me. Go back in time, make sure this never happened. Allow me to slip back into the time stream. Make me what I should be, by your success! That is all you can do to help me!

With that, the skeleton releases its grip on the parchment, and dark tendrils of evil reach out and draw the spirit shrieking away into the benighted realm.

Alternate reality and the near future

You had barely left the time chamber, when you are greeting by a mysterious gold and white floating light, which turns out to be a very confusing fairy of some sorts. She greets you all affectionately as though you were all best friends and she’s really impressed with something you just did – refusing to explain it because she cannot understand that you don’t already know, and seems to think your confusion is just part of an old joke on your part, again.


However, gladly and gratefully, she gives you a small silk bag containing six power stones. Your own are missing and appear now to be in the bag she holds - It is fortunate that the one creature entering your time with all six stones appears to have done so with the sole purpose of giving them to you.

With an affectionate hug and little explanation, she disappears gratefully into wherever she just came from, presumably, never to be seen again.

...

The future bears the unhealing scars of a plane wide apocalypse of unmeasurable proportions.  Nothing lives here now, not even in the soil, and every city is broken and destroyed.  Even the sun pillar, once a mountain, is broken to the ground.  The only inhabitants are the undead, mostly ghosts and a few skeletons, but even the ghosts are mere shades of their souls, splintered remains of their former existence.  They cannot abide the light of the lantern, and are broken apart by any attempt to turn them.  They crowd around you in the endless twilight, always on the edges of your consciousness, gazing at you piteously to end a miserable existence they no longer understand, brought on by a death they no longer remember.

Nothing, however, could prepare you for the devastation that surrounds what was once Lauresia. Her great wall is brought low, her children scattered around the ground. The trees are broken and burnt, and offer no protection any more.


But as you enter, an unexpected sight reaches your eyes. There is a light, an impossibly small beacon of hope, and it seems to be calling out to you from the top of the heavily damaged tower of white.

I have found you...

They are coming, from all directions… there will be no escape…


Suddenly, there is a loud crack. It sounds like a mighty stone splitting but it echoes in your soul like time itself was being rent asunder. You have never heard a sound like it before…

Suddenly there is a presence. A profoundly evil presence. A profoundly familiar presence. The area falls eerily silent, and the creatures stop as if confused…

A soft voice speaks, but not to your ears, and in that moment, there is pain. Pain like you have only known once before. The pain of a mortal brought into the presence of its immortal enemy.

“So, Exiles, you are here.” It states in quite, simple, and wholly evil voice.

Suddenly there is an explosion of fire that incinerates the creatures and leaves the edges of your clothes smouldering.

He is approaching…

A ribbon of red light twists in the air, and begins to uncurl as a portal is forged between two dimensions. People scream, and there is pandemonium in the area. Slowly, two massive clawed hands part the red ribbon and begin to tare a hole in space, a bloated creature of diabolical evil begins to emerge.

“I have found you!” The Enemy speaks, as his truly horrid umberhulk emerges into your world.

“Finally I have found you...”

Handout - The Mighty Empire of the Tris

Overview

The Mighty Empire of the Tris is at the height of its power. Ruled by the magnificent Archmage known as the Prime, supported with his council of Archmagi, and protected by legions of mythical beasts and manufactured automatons, no nation in the sphere may trade without the permission of this mighty Empire. Magic as common as butter knives, but until you can cast level 3 spells, you’re not considered a wizard at all. However, power is leading to arrogance, corruption and decadence - the Tris claimed to have slain or driven off all their gods, and blood sports are common among them. Wizards are treated in great honour, but few deserve it, and the rest of the citizens are not much better than serfs. Charisma based casters are hunted to death, wisdom based casters are tolerated but receive little public support.

Government

Prime is a level 30 archmage, and has held the position for a record almost 20 years.

The Emperor is always the most powerful mage aspiring to that position. Conflicts can simmer in their midst for years, until a new mage feels ready to make the challenge (about every 5 to seven years). This is settled by magical combat between the two alone, and is usually fatal. It can, however, be ended by the unconditional surrender of one of the mages (who stands to loose everything they own but life itself). It is rare, but not impossible, that a particularly powerful and charismatic mage can continue as Emperor till their deaths by natural causes. The Emperors power over his people is absolute. Theoretically, the emperor could order every citizen to burn their house to the ground and relocate to the elemental plane of fire. In practice this would probably involve a massive revolution and repeated assassination attempts, as well as numerous challenges to the emperors power – often at inconvenient times.

Actual day to day rulership in the empire is by the senate, which is full of aristocrats with smatterings of wizard levels. This is fortunate, since the archmagi are rarely concerned with the lives of their citizens, and the skill required for managing the vast empire and all its interests, as well as a diverse citizenry, not to mention the capricions of the archmagi, takes formidably skill. The chair of the senate is elected by the senate for 3 year terms. The senate at all times answers to and enacts the will of the Emperor (if they are unfortunate enough to have one who is interested in making edicts that will affect the citizens.) Having the full resources of the most powerful empire in the Sphere is a good way to get things done – such as gathering rare spell components or casting epic level spells. Senate officials are nominated by their lords and lieges – citizens have no voting rights.

Underneath the senate the system is stalwartly feudal. The people are ruled by lesser kings and queens, princes and princesses, or the landed knights, generically referred to as the Lord or Lady, who own and protect a portion of land and all those who live on it. Visitors enter, and receive treatment, at the local Lords whim. However, these local Lords and Ladies answer to successively higher kings and queens until the Emperor himself, who owns all the land, all its people, and theoretically, makes all the rules as well.

The Emperor does not tax the people directly; he taxes the provinces and realms, who tax their kings, who tax their Lords and Ladies, who tax the people. While citizens can own their own property, they cannot own land (only the emperor, technically, can). Citizens can usually buy their freedom from one Lord and purchase a new bond with a different Lord. It’s unfair, but at least they are not quite slaves. Most citizens earn enough to live and to prosper (the senate tries to make sure of that), and pay the around 10% tax the local Liege levies. Each successive level of management levies around 10% on the lords and ladies in their realm. The Emperor’s income is huge.

Sadly, while the empire is at its peek, it has risen so on the backs of exploitation – primarily the Beastmen who they claim to have saved from death many years ago. Beastmen and other servants can be traded like any other property, and children of slaves are treated as property of their masters. On the topic of decadence, the Tris also enjoy blood sports in their areas where people are punished with death, often on frivolous charges, for the entertainment of others. Clerical calls for a higher moral stance go as yet unheeded.

Needless to say, mages hold a special position in this culture as holders of a special and unique power. There are three kinds of mages.

1/ Those caster level 4 or below are granted no special treatment – just about everyone knows at least one prestidigitation or orison (schooling is compulsory till age 10).

2/ Those above level 4 usually serve as landed mages (or ‘house mages’) and answer exclusively to their liege (who is usually also a mage). They are also known as ‘marked mages’ according to the mark of the house they serve. Occasionally power battles for precedence among marked mages occur similar to battles for the empire.

3/ The final kind of mage is the unmarked mage who answers to no-one but the emperor (or a higher mage if he can kick their butt). Most bear their own mark, and are legally allowed to travel where they will (unless a more powerful mage says they cannot) and to gather even legions of followers (till someone strong enough says ‘enough’!). They usually do so until they can establish their own land and kingdom. In rare cases, this is actually a well planned event with a family sponsoring a chosen member as its mage (schooling is expensive) until they can settle a new area. Even the kings are expected to give honour to the unmarked (unless their house mages are more powerful, in which case they can run you off their land.) For example, unmarked magi can usually expect a day or two’s decent accommodation (for themselves, their companions are usually given bare minimum accommodation) from just about any Lord or Lady in the Empire in return for favours if need be.

Adventuring parties are expected to be led by their mage, and the companions are either mercenaries or property.

Geography

Lush, verdant, rolling hills almost everywhere. Magically altered to be so everywhere else.

Military

Mostly slaves – beastmen, automatons, summoned creatures. The living souls of the Tris are the last line of defence, and their wizards expected to flee to seek revenge if a people are bested.

Daily life

There is one law – never meddle in the affairs of wizards. People fear wizards, never look them in the eyes without permission, and are expected to answer any question a wizard puts to them. The only one legally and morally expected to punish a wayward and wanton wizard is another wizard, who may take the other wizards tower and lands for themselves. The citizens expect this, and somewhere in the empire, see it happen every day, roll their eyes, and get back to work knowing there is now a new wizard in charge who, hopefully, will ignore them just as long as they pay their taxes, just like the old wizard.

The serfs work extremely hard, while the nobility have an abundance of time on their hands. Most nobles need to know a little magic, as all their leaders are wizards and an unmarked mage can legally challenge a housed mage for his property and kingdom.

Religion

Long ago, the Tris claim to have slain, driven off or simply bored their gods from existence (depending on who you ask). While there are a scattering of the more traditional faiths, no one religion is a particularly influential driving force in society. The prevailing consensus among the masses is that divine and arcane magic are both, well, magic – and magic is something the mages (that run the place) can manage well enough. Gods are just powerful individuals much like mortals or stories to frighten children. Publicly, the Mighty Empire of the Tris is a very secular society, and the vast majority of those that are devoutly religious are rarely terribly public about it. The few that are are usually ignored, sometimes branded insane and occasionally even persecuted to death. The basic feeling of the Tris is that they know enough about magic and the Universe not to really need the Gods. They are more of an interest than passion, but this does not go for everyone.

Crime and punishment

For the Tris, might makes right. If you are upset with someone, they are in the wrong. You go to battle, and the winner is right. There is a law, buried deep down there somewhere, but it is generally felt that it can be twisted to mean anything so only the strong eventually survive. Upsetting the wrong person usually means getting thrown into the gladiatorial pits. For all their arcane powers, the Tris lack creativity when it comes to solving problems.

For lesser crimes, pain is the price. Particularly way ward individuals are scarred all over due to their many ‘lessons’. Occasionally property may be seized, or children sold into slavery.

With a Godless culture, Tris actually permit any behaviour as long as it’s ‘not hurting anybody’, including substance abuse, infidelity, and taring down old growth forests for profit.

Cultural oddities

* Schooling is compulsory for all children from 6 till they turn 11. During this time they are expected to learn to read and write, and to learn at least one 0 level spell from the wizard spell list which they can cast once per day. Most individuals pass this schooling. Prestidigitation is the most common choice. Due to this training, it is said a watched pot swiftly boils among the Tris! (Children start a lot of fires at around about this age as well.)

* the Tris hate any other caster that does not use intelligence as their prime attribute, especially sorcerers. They are legally shot on sight. Bards are barely tolerated as long as they stick to pretty lights and healing spells.

The watcher in Blue

Lukat – deep in meditation, receives the following vision;




The Sapphire lady was deep in prayer, but could not shake the tremor of fear, fear and annoyance at her daughter and her friends. The high council had been in an uproar all morning. Few things in the city were going well nowadays, but then she’d received the urgent missive from her daughter that morning – they were being chased by the heir apparent of the most powerful empire in the plane, and both were heading this way. It might have been a more subdued reaction at the council, as she had carefully planned, with a silent strengthening of defences and moving of the populace. But no sooner does the council session begin than the head of the rogues guild runs in broadcasting their imminent danger. Such a foolish daughter to have given the news to such an indiscrete source! Before another word is spoken, it is apparent that the news is spreading like wildfire though the streets. Naturally, the citizens panic and it was many hours before calm was restored once more.

The sapphire lady tried to put the annoyance and anxiety out of her soul. What a busy morning! A near riot, quelled only just in time! But it is a calm only made possible by the acquisition of a new, and within the hour fully charged, Orizon crystal. Once the sky shield was activated the citizens began to feel safe again. At least the adventurers did not fail them in this way.

But it was too late to warn the trading parties outside the wall - they would have to fair the best they could. It was the most hurtful blow – only just now had resources and food begun to flow into the city once more. They could not afford to loose this opportunity or order might break down completely.

The Sapphire lady called to her the guards and messengers. There would be much to prepare. Lukat and the others were head off to some unknown location, and they would need all the supplies they could carry – apparently they were leaving their boat, the Lightening here. But she still could not hide her anxiety. With all their combined wisdom, the high council of the wise had decided that this place – this world – was the safest from their Enemy. If the children had plans to plane shift into another dimension … they had not been warned properly of the dangers of that. He had eyes to see between the worlds… if they weren’t careful… they could loose more than everything.

It made her wonder what had happened to have caused such a political disaster with this Prince? Was it the wanton fetishes of the Halfling thief, so much like his predecessor the Shadowmaster? No, the stars told another story, and she had been given eyes to read them a long time ago. There was more to this... a terrifying figure, with a crown of flame…

Perhaps it was the child concealed at the shrine of time? No, surely it was not. They were an interesting lot of monks, the Sapphire lady mused. It had been herself, the Sapphire Lady chuckled, that had warned the monks of the Princes approach. He had some means of concealing his ships, and it was more than luck that had lead her look at just the most fortuitous moment, and saved the young ones lives.

She was always watching, the Sapphire lady confessed in a self congratulatory manner. Watching as the young ones reclaimed the fallen paladins lost blade. Watching as they wasted precious hours on guild maze, as if they could not tell the lustful pirate lord would never keep her promise! Watching as they rested at the time shrine for over two weeks, completely unaware of the approach of the Prince.

Her child did not know, and perhaps never would. But she herself was always watching. They would never know just how much she had gone through to save them, to protect them all from the very life they were now disastrously bringing upon themselves…

Visions were a great way to learn, but sometimes, when all you can do is watch while loved ones stumble heedlessly again and again into ever increasing danger … it is a terrible burden, even just to watch...

Story - Frangipania

The following story is narrated to you by Brinthesere – the purple amethyst that is actually responsible for making the Greased Lightening airbourne. She apparently has quite the flair for a narrative, and further investigation will reveal this story of a conversation that took place just before the next combat to be essentially accurate. Brinthesere has imbedded herself into the heart of the main sail, becoming one with the living tree that is the ship upon which you sail.





The twinkling stars stretched out forever against the inky blackness. The Greased lightening, a ship of living wood powered by sentient stone, rocked gently in the mysterious and invisible Everbreeze of the plane in which you now live. All around the ship, soldiers and sailors stare out in quiet reverence at the strange sight, quieted also by the incipient pursuit of an enraged cleric driven mad for his desire for pre-emptive revenge.

Gaston and Shahonrazae whisper quietly at the foredeck, as they often do, unveiling their lives to each other from the different worlds they come from. Jerry practices her swordplay alone on the aft deck, for none will challenge her and her frostblade any more. Lukat is again below decks, meditating or practicing her sorcery. She is becoming quite accomplished now. Oma might be conferring with his students, or the Lightening, but most often transforms into a great Kestrel to scout out the winds before the living ship that protects them all. Methos is not to be found, imprisoning himself in the cabins below while he strives continuously to unlock the secrets of time and magic.

Amid the silence, a small girl approaches a dark drow woman, toying idly with the tip of her oft poisoned blade.

“Excuse me.” The child suddenly asks.

The Ebon lady looks down at her in surprise.

“You, child. What do you want.” The dark woman says impatiently.

“I did not see you.” The child replies.

For a moment the Drow assassin looks like she might turn away. This is just a little child, and a trifling trouble at that. Whatever thoughts the drow was entertaining seem little served in discussion with this child right now, and she looks as though she wished the younger one would turn away.

“Whatever.” The drow replies, and returns to her staring out into the darkness.

But the child, undaunted, sits up beside her on the rails. For a long time, silence is the only companion between them.

“Is it like this were you are from?” The child finally asks. “I have always liked the stars.”

The drow rolls her eyes. Perhaps a few words of conversation will placate this annoying and persistent child.

“No. Not at all.”

“What was it like?” The child asks.

“It’s… too difficult to describe.” The drown replies.

“But the sky was grey. Wasn’t it?” The child says.

The drow looks down at her in disbelief. “And who told you that?” she demands.

But the child continues to look out, taking her time in answering.

“I saw it. When I will be there. The others, they showed me where you were. But it doesn’t happen yet, I don’t think. This was in the future.”

The drow looks at her sideways. “You make no sense.” She accused.

“I know.” The child sadly sighed. “I am not from here. I come from a time where it’s all now. You can’t imagine… this… this land is strange. Things all happen in a line. But they’re not, and I see them all now. I can look into what was and will be. But not always, because it’s changing. That’s what’s so hard about it. Where I am from, it’s all now. Just one place: Now.” She sighed. “It made much more sense.”

“So where are you from?” the drow asked.

“I don’t really remember much else. But I’m there still. Oma. He will see. Lukat too, I think. Methos maybe not. There’s another two too. But I can’t tell you about them because it messes the nows’ up. I’ve learnt that. I cannot tell too much. It makes a mess of all the nows. There is only one was, and only one now, but many to be’s. Do you understand?”

The drow was silent in replying.

After a moment, the child Frangipania, coveted of the pirates, continues “Coming here was hard at first. It took a long time to put everything into words that come out one at a time.”

Still the Ebon lady was silent. Was she too busy to be bothered by this child? Or too wise to ignore the idle prattle of such an arcane curiosity. The child did have skills that were quite… useful… or at the very least… profitable.

“No.” The child replied as if answering a question. “I have no memory of where I am from. I was taken to the orphanage when I was a girl.”

“What do you mean?” The ebon lady wondered, “Is that were you came from?”

The child looked at her quietly. “Oh. Did I answer the question before you asked it again? Yes. I do that sometimes. It’s the hardest part. Like waiting till tomorrow, but sometimes that’s very scary. At least I can always keep myself safe. Almost always.”

The drow and the child stared out at the stars.

“You make no sense.” The drow stated as if she would leave.

“I think they’ll be here soon.” The child then replied. “Meas does not stand up any more. And the main sail will burn. But we’ll chase them away. I think it will be the little boat this time.”

“What are you talking about!?” The drow stated as though loosing her temper. The child watches her with wide eyes fear, and stutters her reply as though lost in a world she cannot explain to a woman who cannot understand.

“I didn’t see you.” She said nervously. “You’re not in the now. Not this now. Not any nows. I don’t understand who you are or why you’re here. But you are here. I can touch you. What are you?” The child asks.

The drow smiles knowingly, and hides her thoughts. “You have no need to fear me, child.” She replies.

The child stared at her in silence, lost in the memories of a myriad of futures.

“Who.” The drow finally asks. “Who is coming in the little boat to burn the mail sail?”

The child looked up into the sky, and sighed.

“I can’t tell you.”

“But you did tell me.” The Ebon lady replied.

Frangipania just sighs.

“When I tell them, everything changes, and I don’t know which now is real anymore.”

“Perhaps it is better that you told me. Perhaps I’m here to change the ‘now’ that you don’t like? When I see the small ship, I will protect the mail sail first. And Meas, I will send below.

“That’s not how it works, “ the child protested.

“Do you see all things how they will be?” The drow asked.

“No.” the child replied. “Only what they were before they become. Oh, I know that doesn’t make any sense! You people are so strange!” she cries.

But the drow pated her comfortingly on the head.

“I know what it’s like to have secrets you cannot tell, not because you can’t, but because if you did, nobody would understand…”

“I thought so.” Frangipania smiled.

But then the smile faded. “But why is your skin so grey?” Frangipania asks the Ebon lady.

Ebon does not smile, and perhaps before she can stop the unconscious thought her hand is upon her dagger in an instant, her eyes wild in anger and fear. But before she can react, before the assassin can put into any action whatever mysterious thought lead her to reach for her weapon, Frangipania looks skyward and gasps.

“The small one.” She stated.

The Ebon lady looked up, there, emerging from the stars and cloaked by the darkness, is another flying vessel half the size of the Lightening. Upon its main deck, a huge cannon rests, arcane fire gathering in its maw.

“Incomming!” Shouted the Ebon lady. The lookout, so used to sailing on oceans, or too sleepy to be wise, did not see the enemy approaching.

There is panic on deck, and the child slips away from the Drow before she can gather her wits. In the ensuing panic, Ebon spots a lone character walking across the main deck, looking about for an enemy he has not yet seen.

Looking about, standing in a direct line between the mainsail, and the cannon.

“Meas!” Ebon screamed in desperation. “Get down! Look out!”

He paused then. He looked where she was pointing. He was only a druid, and had no idea of how to deal with danger, how to jump when he was told. He had to see the danger for himself.

Had he not paused to see what she was pointing at he might have even walked out of harms way, or at least turned it into a glancing blow.

The first blast from the fire cannon was its most deadly. It seared the mainsail of the Lightening with a terrible pain too exquisite to define, but she had no voice to scream with. She had never felt such pain before. In a moment of weakness, she almost wished for death rather than violence, and would have entirely surrendered if they had required it.

The battle went as follows;

Player handout : Pirates of the Eversea

Overview

The Eversea is a vast expanse of open space, littered with literally hundreds of thousands of little islands of earth floating effortlessly in the darkness. Most are sunless rocks about the size of a house, but occasionally one is large or magical enough to sponsor its own light. There is no need for air, it seems to be everywhere, and gravity almost always points down towards Profundum. Almost. Far too often strangers and enemies are made to walk the plank and find themselves eventually falling sideways in invisible currents of gravity and air to land in foreboding, and forbidden places.

The largest of the floating islands are the five continents, and the largest of those is claimed by the Sultancy. Legend tells that a thousand years ago every single island was visited and claimed by the ancient Tris, but no-one has heard of what happened to them in all that time.

To be fair, not all natives of the Eversea are pirates, and there is next to no sea in the Eversea.

Government

A pirate captain is the law on their own boat and makes all rules, fair and fowl, according to whim and circumstance. Often each pirate vessel will swears fealty to a pirate lord, who usually holds an island or two as a base of power, and can command other captains on their own vessel (as long as they have more soldiers and a bigger boat to back it up with). Only occasionally does a pirate gain enough land and ships to be called a great pirate lord, and only while they are alive - their holding tends to be divided up among heirs who must earn dominance on their own. There are seven great pirate lords at this time, of all kinds of races and genders. This changes every few years, as even immortal pirate lords (such as undead) are eventually brought down by the constant competition among them.

Once every hundred generations or so a particularly powerful pirate lord holds such influence over all the other pirate lords though cunning and persuasion as to be effectively an emperor. Twice in their history the pirate armada has taken sail to the terror of all. Usually, though, there is no strict alliance between factions and the largest unit of government is the boat they are sailing on. There is no honour among thieves.

Cressellia however, the largest city, is a neutral meeting ground for the pirates, and no one pirate lord risks claiming it as their own.



Char Blackthroat – Human. Rogue (polite, cunning, evil) gluttony

Lady Gwendelain – elven arcane trickster (beautiful fem fatales) envy

Hok – orc raider (wanton destroyer) greed

Barrum Stealhammer – dwarven rogue (tyrant) sloth

Sly – Halfling assassin (pragmatic) lust

Ming Wun Fu – githzeri monk (very evil.) wrath

Man Luck – gnome bard (comic relief, but wise, lucky, and kinda helpful. Generally treated as ‘harmless’ by other pirate lords who grudgingly appreciate his cunning and levelling influence.) pride

Geography

Pirates are actually very few in number, but several small towns of scum and villainy do exist. They live scattered on the (hundred) thousand floating islands of the Eversea. Some are no more that a building or two, hoping to go unnoticed and hidden far from trade routs.



Points of interest:

Scholars generally agree that the thousands islands of the Eversea were once a single world, blown apart by some enormous force and swept into this tiny pocket plane. While history records the Eversea was like this prior to the Tris, most blame the Tris anyway.

The whole area, for convenience, is divided into the great outer circle, and the much much smaller inner circle where the vast majority of the population live. The outer circle is essentially blank, except for some points of legend such hidden thrones of the Gods. The outer circle objects follow very erratic orbits, some none at all.

The thousand islands (actually hundreds of thousands, with countless millions of tiny rocks, chunks of dirt, and specks of dust) of the inner circle slowly rotate around the maelstrom, shepherded by the five great continents in a counter clockwise direction.

The maelstrom is an enormous storm of Everwinds at the base of the Eversea, spinning upwards. Some say to ride the maelstrom is to escape the pocket plane forever, if the trip doesn’t kill you.

The outer circle from above;





And from the side;



+ve and –ve planes lie on the north and south sides of the great circle respectively. Celestium (heaven) and Profundum (hell) are at the top and bottom, with a great ring of Aboretum (neutal) right in the middle. Needless to say, most of the space is considered profoundly empty. It is an eight year journey in the fastest skyships ever imagined to cross the Eversea, most ships aren’t 1/100th as fast.

The outer circle can be extremely difficult to navigate, using only the tiny specks of light from the inner circle the only obvious features. Special compasses for detecting Celestium, Arboretum, Profundum, the energy planes and Malestrom also exist, but are excruciatingly rare.





Top down map of the inner circle, including five governing continents, is displayed below;



Water is rare, except for the magically sustained ocean ring (not fit for drinking), and the beautiful by dangerous water continent Oceania where the abolyths currently hold rule. Getting a drink can be extremely dangerous, most mariners never return, and water is at times at a great expense. The demons of Accursed love fire, Iceland undead life on a land made of metal, and the Beastmen enjoy a forested land filled with dinosaurs.

Three month journey from side to side.

Military

Again, almost everyone, but a unified force is highly unlikely.

Daily life

With no strict time determined by sunlight, pirates live life to the schedule set by their captain and look out warily all the time. Families tend to live on the islands in towns or settle on the continents if they can break away from the tyranny of their pirate overlords. There is honest work on the islands, or dishonest work on the Everbreeze as the pirates take to plunder and searching for lost treasures (usually of the Tris) among the islands. They usually avoid the well organised and powerful Sultancy, and the other well defended governing continents.

Pirates believe themselves to be, mostly, descendants from ancient pirates who fled to the realm to escape persecution millennia ago, and then forgot how to get back. Some of them trace their bloodlines back to the Tris, but they are very very rare. Just as rare are adventurous and foolhardy souls who have left one of the governing continents to attempt a life out on the Everbreeze.

Religion

While not typically religious, deities of thieving or chance are common. A few honest but of necessity poor shrines do exist to benevolent deities in the hope of redeeming the people.

Crime and punishment

Whatever the person in charge decides is a crime, basically. It’s chaotic neutral at best.

Cultural oddities

• Pirates are very interested in gold, and can be persuaded quite easily by its lure.

• Pirates are also swayed by good speeches, expert dancing, and other charismatic performances.

• Above all, the pirates value skill – running on rope, balancing, tumbling, juggling etc, and are very impressed by feats of dexterity.

• Most of them are in debt to someone for something.

• Most pirates aren’t savage, allowing those plundered to live. Savage pirates are usually hunted down by alliances of other pirates, ironically.

• Also ironically, pirates value keeping ones word. Sadly, they don’t think anyone can actually keep up that high ideal and lie and betray each other quite often.

In character side quests part 2

Suddenly a shockwave of silver veins tremble across Dzerog-Mak’s usually jet black surface, and for a moment there is a stunned silence in the room. Just as fighting is about to resume Dzerog-Mak shouts “Stop!” and his remaining priests fall to the floor, weapons clattering to the ground. For a moment, there is silence.


“I must… contemplate this new wisdom.” Dzerog-mak explains.

The priests refuse to fight you now, and politely ask you to leave. Perhaps you do, perhaps you don’t, perhaps you are willing to wait the week it takes for Dzerog to contemplate the direction his life has taken these past 300 years. But in any event, on the seventh day, major changes take place.

Dzerog-Mak immediately makes full confession of all his attempts at insurrection, fully refunding thousands of coins forced from the hands of innocents in recent times. He betrays the confidences of dozens of spies he has placed to cause insurrection and contention as far as the offices in the white tower. The Shadow guild, only one of several major organisations that had fallen under his sway, is official disbanded, though few are fools enough to believe this is a permanent change.

The repercussions of this are immense as those formally supported in the corruption are brought to light. Criminals are returned to their sentencing, and thieving activities greatly curtailed. A new era has begun, where Dzerog-mak and his breakers serve the law in Lauresia instead of seeking to become the law, for none had suspected just how powerful the Mirror quartz had really become…

As for Jessica, none can escape the change she initiates as well. Healed by your gratitude, she is renewed with a sense of purpose. No longer taken for granted by her children, the banded haematite becomes forthright and assertive in overseeing that all fulfil their responsibilities to their community. She calls to account many who have fallen behind in their promised duties to their people, and initiates several new policies for seeing the city is properly cleansed, that people are polite, and that door are properly shut after use. Most of all, Jessica enshrines the use of gratitude among all citizens as a means of restoring hope and peace to a people recovering from their own fear, which expressed itself as the riots.

But there is still much work to be done.



Oma

Ebon is a great asset to the burgeoning ‘Oma’s revolution army’ with an inate sense of mistrust and deep understanding of the art of trechery. She exposes a novice spy in a single week, placed there by the druidic circle to oversee your activities and report on your teachings. Several new people have begun to attend your seminars, commoners such as coopers and scullery maids for the most part…



Gaston

Schazonraze turns up, asking to speak to you. She tells you that Sunali is bring driven to madness to find and slay you and your people, and that you all must flee before he finds Toronto’ and destroys it forever.



Lukat.

Hey, no family involvement today… how weird…



Gerry

The thief approaches you through the crowded tavern.

“I haves some information you might find… interesting. That hag whose got yr stuff? Seems she keeps an old warehouse down in brown town, I’ll give you the address. Seems there might be a whole covey of them, they do some kind of ritual, you’ll need to head there at night. Watch yr back though, lotsa folks going against them witches every few years or so… never heard anything from any of them ever since…”



PS Level up everyone! Welcome to level 8!

character quests part 1

Omah-

It has been another cold night in the gutter. There has been no sight or sound of pig-dog, thought you have searched incessantly the day before. You are suddenly awoken as Alhazred the mad begins to warn all of inevitable death by clams, when shadows flick unexpectantly across the rising sun.


“Ohma! I don’t’ believe it! Not the great Ohma!” A young adults voice exasperates in strained adulation, “Lima ! I’ve finally found him, it’s Ohma!”

“Ohma?” A young female replies, “not the gutter!” She states, “we heard what happened. Everyone in the lower echelons of the druidic circle are talking about it, though all the elders are hush hush. It’s a total conspiracy !”

They pull you to your feet, a young pair of half elves, barely neophytes in the druidic circle.

“I’m Meas,” the young man says, “And this is my sister Lima. We’ve been searching all over for you!”

“Yes!” Says Lima excitedly, “We’re leaving the druidic circle. We heard about the rubbish they put you though, and that you’d rebelled against their ancient and stuffy ways to create your own form of druidism, and we want in!”

“Absolutely!” Meas exclaims, “here, look at this. I rescued your most recent paper, 'Cross-bio-illogicality in a non-Tolkien-derivative’, from the recycle heap and have taped it all tighter, look, I even stayed up all night and wrote out a copy by hand. Master Ohma, it is a work of unparalled intellectual criticism! A timeless masterpiece! Those dinosaurs don’t know what they’re talking about.”

“It’s not like that and you know it!” Lima says emphatically

“Oh, not this…” Meas protests, but his sister cuts him off.

“It’s a conspiracy man!” She tells you, “Someone high up in the government of the city wants to discredit you and all your work, they’ve bought out all the high druids and are suppressing all your research! They even banned discussions of your treatise “Extra-Metropolitan Flora & Fauna”. In druid school, and it is a work of pure genious!”

“Well, at least It’s better than “Extra-Lauresian Canine du corps and their resistance to the Ancient Druidic technique for Universal Animal Calm” Meas says, and they both have to agree to that.

“But notice how it all started once you released the 'deleterious effects of mind-expanding substances on academic processes'. Maybe you ticked someone off?” Meas suggests.

“No, this goes right to the top, man!” Lima emphatically insists. “No master druid could seriously reject that level of scholarship.”

Meas brushes his sister aside. “Anyway, we’re here to help. Wendelmane from the junior limb of Experimental Druidism and Micro-fungus tipped us off that you’d finally had it with the system and were breaking free, and you can count us in!”

“Yeah dude!” Lima encourages, “Down with the system! Viva la revolution! I know this really great corner for getting the message to the people, what a rush!” And at this, Lima pulls a harp from her robes, “And I know these songs, and can play along to help get peoples attention! Look, I’ve made on up already;



How many times must we ask to know

While the druids keep knowledge from our hands?

Yes and how many times must we wait in ignorance,

While imprisoned in this stone walled land?

The answer my friend, is blowing in the wind,

The answer –



She is suddenly interrupted by yet another man, screaming you name. It is Anton, his hair wild and his clothes torn.

“Ohma, Ohma! That the Mother I found you! I’m sorry, I’m just so sorry! Pig dog, she was just… you just rewrote the book on what’s possible I had to try it for myself… now she’s dead… and… and…”

“What did you do!” Lima shouts.

“Daisy was his greatest work!” Meas shouts, “he even measured the vector of her tail-curve, the floppiness factor of her ears, and the concentration and bizarre variety of the so-called 'gross spots' under her chin. If you’ve harmed her, I’ll, I’ll – “

Suddenly, from far down the streets there is a mighty crash. People run terrified from the approaching commotion, and their screams are suddenly overpowered by a mighty, bestial roar.

rrrRRRRROOOOOOAAAARRRRR!!!!!!!!

“I’m so sorry.” Marcus begs, falling to the pavement. “It seemed like such a good idea at the time… Fufi… you remember Fufi? My childhood animal companion, the one I’ve had since before I could talk… well… it turns out that she might have been a little angrier at me than I anticipated for pulling on her ears and sticking things were I shouldn’t have… and when I combined her brain with the body of another beast, her repressed anger resurfaced and she’d gone on a blood thirsty rampage that can only be sated with my destruction!!!”

From much nearer now, a large cart full of apples is thrown high into the air and right through the front of some houses. With encroaching dread something huge rounds the corner, a hideous beast stairs right at the quartet of druids standing around in the street, and it lets out a final roar of terror and hate.

Fufi will have her revenge!


 
Lukat -

With the final, fatal blow, miraculously Zakaria does not die. You raise you weapon to deliver another finishing blow when suddenly a loud and noble voice rings out with such authority it immediately forces all in the room to comply;


“STOP!”

It is her husband, Maszalan.

He is not dressed as a cultist, nor even as a drow, but as a fighter in a simple yellow robe, armed with a mace.

“My husband!” Zakaria croons vengefully, struggling on the edge of death, “You will avenge my death, no? You will slay those who stood against our goddesses wishes?”

He walks up to her, looking at you all in sympathy. There is no hint of violence, jealously or even revenge written on his face.

“No Zakaria. This is the end. I will not.”

“What?” She states incredulously, cradling her wounds. “You swore undying love and servitude to me! You… you are my husband! You owe it to me as a drow…”

“I’m sorry Zakaria,” and here his voice does take on a hint of great sadness, “I really did try! I really did want you to be happy! When you were young, when I first heard your voice crying out to be free of the spider goddesses tyranny, to study magic and not her dark faith … I wanted so much to help you. We all wanted to help you – “

“What are you talking about madman!” Zakaria screams, vainly clutching at her wounds to stave off death a minute more, “I ORDER you to kill my grandchild and her friends immediately!”

But Maszalan does not move.

“She is my grandchild too.” He reminds her. “And you promised to protect your children, and your family, a long time ago. Do you remember that? Do you remember our wedding when we fled the Spider Queens tyranny long ago to elope? I remember Zakaria. I remember it all.” He says, tears pouring down his face. “We took you out of the spider queen’s web. I risked it all to help you. I risked heaven to help the Drow become free of the spider queen, and still when you heart fills with fear and you mind with pride you turn to her tyranny again – like a dog to she that whips her!”

“Maszalan,” She says, cunning to the last, “I’m sorry, yes, I will return to my people. I will deny my vows to the spider queen – “

“No, you will not.” He says. “I know you better than that Zakaria.”

She looks in his eyes then, but knows his words to be true, and then she can no longer hide the truth from herself. Suddenly, she collapses, and Maszalan runs to her side.

“Then this is how it will end?” She says weakly.

“This is how it ends.” He replies sadly.

“But why,” She pleads, “… why did you marry me? Why did you stay with me, even now, at the very end?”

For a moment, he pauses, then allows a hundred years of illusions to fade away. His skin turns from black to purest white, and hair from white to purest gold. The years fade instantly from his aged skin. A pair of feathery wings unfolds gently from his back and his body begins to glow with an inner power that makes it difficult to look at him.

“You…” Zakaria says, her voice failing her in wonder and understanding.

“Zakaria.” He states in a voice rich with love and devotion.

It is the last sound she ever hears…

Player handout: Creatures and culture: The Savage Warlords of the Shattered lands.

For the first time in 17 years, the hated assassins of the knife are once again rulers of the brutal warlords of the shattered lands. Gribkalla bloodshirt, kobold clad head, makes all the PC’s honoured of the knifes, which has the following benefits.

- you may bask in the light of the fallen star, Kucha haka, for a day, which grants you a temporary +2 inherent bonus to strength for the next week each time you bask.

- A special weapon or magical item (as determined in game)

- bards may take ‘intimidating song’ (similar to the Haka)

- you are given a tiny mote of Orizon crystal from the Kucha Haka, which can be used to;

o power up a new crystal (purple amethyst, like Scooby)

o overpower the Greased lightening (get it ready to be a bigger boat)

o bolster Lauresia’s defences (with Metho’s recent research, this will be used to greater effect than was previously possible)

o make another floating island for the inhabitants of the city

Overview

The shattered land is a broken and dusty wasteland that juts unexpectedly from the edge of the grasslands, cutting a huge crevice along what one might have been rolling hills of the skylings. Now it is filled with battle lusting orcs, grimlocks, and countless other savages everyone would much rather ignore, but are so dug into their dark abode that none yet have managed to tame their savage lands – though they have tried.

Government

Power is the first law of government – the strong rule.

Family age the second law – the older has right to rule (unless the younger can overpower or slay them)

Officially the Sultancy ignored the shattered lands, considering them cursed, and ignores the potential for a drawn out battle with a skilled and experienced force. The constant infighting is the only thing preventing the shattered lands from attacking the rest of the Sultancy. They would not do well, however, outside their cursed abode.



Visitors to the Shattered lands are persecuted till death until the subscribe to one of the thirteen clans, at which point they are allowed a little security when travelling for fear of starting a war, which happens several times a year anyway. Each clan has brutal initiation rituals, ridged hierarchy, and strict laws. Each clan wars for dominance and resources, and the ‘king’ (called the “Hak-cha”) is the clan leader of the dominant tribe.

Clan dominance is decided by how close the clan lands come to Kucha haka, the sacred site, where a meteorite crashed down millennia ago and still lies, imbuing locals with exceptional strength and revelatory visions. The clan head of the dominant tribe is Hak-cha, which is decided by the victor of three contests – physical strength, victory in battle and strategy in war.

The clans are (listed in order of power);



1. Bloodbrood. Chaotic evil. orcs

2. Veil. Ogre mages and slaves

3. Path. Beholders.

4. Scale. Chromatic Dragonspawn.

5. Sword. Humans

6. Shadow. drow

7. Axe. dwarves

8. Slime. hobgoblins and allies

9. Claw. lycanthropes

10. Shoal. The undead

11. Knifes. Assasins. Kobolds

12. Dread. Evil fey (pixies, satyrs, dryads etc)

13. Lost. Abberations. Gnarks, gricks and occasional umberhulk.





Geography

Cavernous. Lots of dragons.

Military

Everyone.

Daily life

Wake up, eat, fight, eat, fight, eat, argue, fight, sleep.

Religion

The people of the War lords worship battle, violence and war. There is no option for death but to die in war, as disease or old age are terrible dishonours. Various cults (they’re not like churches) grow up around weapons and the Gods who exemplify that weapon. Their training is legendary.

Their version of heaven is external war.

Crime and punishment

Whatever the person in charge decides is a crime, basically. It’s chaotic neutral at best.

Cultural oddities

• Politeness is considered very rude. All requests must be phrased in the future tense with a steady voice (not shouting) and without a please or thankyou.

• You are only considered to own what you can keep a hold of. If someone steal or takes something from you, they are considered to deserve it more than you.

• The local language (Shattered lands) has no word for ‘hello’, but instead use ‘success’. The word for ‘please’ is ‘I beg for my life and surrender unconditionally’. The word for ‘thankyou’ is ‘try that again and you will die.’

The nobel beastmen of the far wilderness

The Beastmen are livid. All brandish weapons, calling for your immediate death.


“STOP!” A commanding voice demands. Suddenly there is complete silence. There, descending the stairs into the area, is an old Elk Beastman with enormous antlers, still muscle-bound even after his many years. “You bring great dishonour to our people, my son. Why do you persecute these foreigners!”

“They are Tris, father! The ancient debt cannot be forgiven!”

The father looks at you in silence for a moment.

“I find no fault in them.” He firmly states.

“What? Don’t be a fool old man! They are Tris! We saw their city of wings! I have tested them on the totem of the Tris! You cannot turn you back on the old ways…”

“And you,” the father interrupts, “Cannot turn aside from what our people must become. The old debt grows wearisome and can no longer serve our people in their best interests. The Tris tyrants have been fallen a thousand years, how can their children be held responsible for their parents’ crimes any longer?”

The boy does not answer.

“You have dishonoured me by declaring these worthy of death without my or your mothers agreement. You have shamed us son. And you have shamed the earth mother, who does not support you in this murder, and has allowed Gorka Mornga to be wounded for your foolishness!”

Raining Day says no more, but suddenly flees his fathers’ chastisement in tear filled rage.

“Come,” Says Night Song calmly, King of the Beastmen, “We have much to apologise for.”

Tour caverns of the Tris, part 2: The inner sanctum

The sanctum




Foyer

The room you are teleported to is perfectly octagonal and perfectly exact in every measurement. It is not large, only about 30 feet across, with the large stone table you currently have your hands on in the centre.

Surrounding the room are eight walls, each with a strange symbol in the centre.

Near the north wall a trail of black dust leads into the wall, where a small glass key lies, seeming undisturbed in centuries… Finally, there is here an Umberhulk skeleton, 2 or 3 hundred years old...

Abjuration

This room is octagonal, inscribed with three concentric circles of protection. Cleverly cut into the walls are shelves, books, and a desk, but no sign of sleeping quarters. The upholstery is mostly silver and black. An open book sits on the desk with a silver goblet beside it.



Conjuration

This octagonal room is brown, with a light blue summoning circle permanently inscribed in the floor in turquoise stone. A bed, study desk, and a broken book shelf are all that remain.



Divination

This room is light blue, and smells delightfully like a fresh winter morning. Delicate white lace patterns line the top of the room. There is little here but an ornate bed, a well preserved rug, a magical painting depicting a forest scene, and a humainoid skeleton blasted against a heavily cracked and chared desk.



Enchantment

As soon as you enter, you hear the words “I cannot leave the room, I cannot leave… hello, what is this?” There, lying luxuriously on the bed, is the most otherworldly handsome man you’ve ever laid eyes on. With seductious glee he offers “Hello, wont you come sit by me?”



Evocation

This room is unnaturally cold. It might have been glorious once, but the red drapes and finery are all but discarded with age and disuse. All furniture has been destroyed by time. A desiccated skeleton lies on the floor, a key clutched in its hands, pawing at the door.



Illusion

This room is beautiful, built for a male human to enjoy a rich degree of luxury, the magical plate still forming delicious sweetmeats even after all these years. An illusionary harp and viol play soothing music to an empty room.



Necromancy

This room looks well attended to, and none of the dust and mould of a thousand years clutters the air. It is well arrayed with black drapes, and everburning candles light the desk where a skeleton sits as if writing.

Suddenly, the skeleton turns to face you, and in a cruel, hollow voice whispers.

“1000 years, and suddenly a visitor? I have long since surrendered to despair. Perhaps you have come to amuse me?”





“At first, it seemed like such fun. We were going to master the time portal ourselves, the Evoker and I, and slay the rest as soon as it began to function. Well, function it did, and as was my part of the bargain I set about slaying all the other wizards, beginning with the conjurer… I still remember his screams…. Then I raised him as an undead to continue my work. Well, the others had turned on each other already by then, so it was a simple matter of preventing their escapes, much simpler than we first envisioned. How the Transmuter bled!

“Even so, I always knew the Evoker would betray me. He wanted me to be his axe of execution… it was too tempting an offer to refuse… but then he planned to throw me aside. But I was too clever for him, and had a special spell designed just when he did, a little heart worm it was! Ha ha! … oh… oh I wish I could have seen that!

“But I see you have entered in now. So I must assume you have my key, or his. Well, I’ll be taking my key back now, or I will have the pleasure of watching you die…



Transmutation

This room is full of devices of wonder and merriment – all broken. Seemingly once magical toys for children fill a room, but no wizard has dwelt here for a long time. Even as you look about, the change in the air causes a rotten shelf to go crashing to the floor. There is what appears to be a form of bed, but it might have folded up to make a riding pony, a desk that might have also been a dress, and a mirror that looks like it was once used as a drink dispenser…



Riddle;



The one thing that is always constant.

After me, all things are different

Before me, they are not what they have become

Without me, no boy would become a man

No seed a flower, no

And whatever else you can say of me

I am the opposite of ‘constant’.



The inner sanctum.



You are standing on a circular platform in a strange, perfectly spherical room. In the centre of the room an enormous clear quartz looms, floating in mid air. A scintillating purple light glows from it’s heart, projecting through the cracks and pits in its surface, to cover the walls completely in strange lines, symbols, and starfields. It looks as though it might have been used in some kind of calculation, but whatever it was used for must have been immense. The patterns appear to shine right through people somehow to cover the walls of this strange, small room. The air is fresh, but filled with a tangible sense of arcane power and mystery.



Epilogue



It is a fortnight in the making; the great circle of honesty that will finally compel all who promise honesty to deliver it. Within that circle, even the lies one might tell themselves are revealed. And at the centre of the circle a great stone will be healed.

Mingla, the Turquoise, in the hallowed hall overlooking the sky market. Mingla is a massive crystal, covering most of the floor, rising up in irregular lumps that easily form comfortable seating, covering herself with all kinds of mosses and flowers. Patrons come here daily to gain insight into their own lives, and discuss how to make their desires a reality in this world.

At first silent, within a day the many projections of Mingla are chatting again, but no more are they confused and ill, but rather they are clear minded, honest and perceptive. One of those images now approach you, with long brown hair and dark turquoise eyes she bounces up to you, eagre to talk.

“Thankyou.” She says, “Thankyou. This will make such a difference… thankyou.” She says, and bounces off again on her endless quest to love well and always speak the truth.

Tour caverns of the Tris, part 1

Come hear my story,


A tale so true.

About eight mighty wizards,

The proud, and the few.



Who desired a kingdom,

To rule for all time.

But whose story is tragic,

And I’ve set it to rhyme.



The archmage, Evoker,

He ruled the lot.

And mastering time,

He hatched a plot.



To control all the future,

Was to capture the past.

To build up an empire,

Eternal to last.



So taking the seven,

Masters of each school.

The set forth a plot,

Both ambitious and cruel.



A cavern was needed,

Hid from emperors’ sight.

To forge a great portal,

To rule, as power makes right.



A key was then given,

Unto each mage.

And order assigned,

Depending on age.



They worked their great magics,

All day and all night.

But when the moment, at last,

Came, all was not right.



For a traitor there was,

In the heart of each mage.

And when they’d succeeded,

They turned on each other in rage.



Now I am alone,

For 1000 years now.

With nothing to do,

But make up this small rhyme.







Founding

This octagonal room depicts the founding of the Tris, though it is difficult to make out the story covered with a thousand years of neglect. In the beginning, it appears the Gods create themselves and claim a barren and empty land as their own. They use powerful magic to bring fourth food, flowers, and humans.


Early Progress

After a thousand years of peace and progress the first great noble and scholar wizard known as Tris leads a group of about a hundred wizards to ignite the sun pillar. This room depicts the early expansion of the empire under the strong and kind leadership of the wizard Tris. The building of roads and aqueducts are shown, as well as overcoming early plagues and famine.


Civil war.

This room depicts the noble wizard Tris in his late years ending the people’s first and only civil war though the enshrinement of the wizard’s only ones worthy to rule in knowledge and power.



First great war

After 200 years of further expansion, the Tris almost loose their first great war against the decadent and primitive beastment hoards. Led by a giant half dog man, the beastmen manage to capture and raise at least half the empires cities before the powerful magics of the Tris eventually prevail through inflicting them with a terrible disease. Only a few beastmen are permitted to survive as house servants and menial labourers. They are depicted as witless and brutal, and only the intelligence of the growing Tris empire prevents them from descending into complete anarchy and violence.


Second great war

After centuries of peace with the dragons in their realm, the ancient red wyrm Larax finally enacts a century old plot to betray and enslave the empire. At first concurred by his treachery, the Empire of the Tris manage to gather their forces for an attack on their own capital and eventually win. Enslavement of dragons is heavily depicted in the final victory.


Third great war

Known as “The great sorcerer uprising”. Evil sorcerers who made dark and evil covenants with elemental powers achieve sudden success, and declare war on the emperor. The war eventually ends as the Tris Wizards celebrated achieving elemental balance and eternal subjugation of the elements.



Battle of Gods

This room, incredibly, appears to depict the Tris’ recent defeat or expulsion of all their own Gods. Using magic and treachery, those that were deemed ‘more trouble than they were worth’ are slain in numerous battles in which so many are slain ‘they are not numbered’.


Current day

This room depicts the current prosperous state of the empire, unrivalled in power across the stars. Elemental, dragonic and magical powers are all harnessed to the whim of the mighty, and even scullery maids know a prestidigitations to make their work easier. The motifs clearly depict the belief that no previous empire in history has had as much magical mastery as they do, nor ever will…



(One of the cabinets is of particular interest, it is an Intricate cabinet with translucent lock of solid magic worth 2000gp, weighing 1600 lbs.)

* and in knowing the eight passwords, the heros have been teleported into 'the sanctum'

Ch 4 - the Sky Queens Malaise

DM blog:

It seems to have been a successful trade mission. The sky people are in your gratitude, the queen having knighted you Lords and Ladies of her realm, rewarding you generously for saving her people from their self induced malaise. Two of your group have chosen the sky peoples greatest blessing – to join them with wings.


Great success follows at your heels; you have imbued a sentient orange dodecahedron with the ability to fire sunbeams at enemies it chooses. You have chosen a successful crew for your floating skyship. You have increased the amount of land available to an overcrowded city – though people are confused whether it’s a blessing or a curse that the land has been claimed for (or perhaps by) the Drow family Hune lead by the scheming sorceress Zakaria. Finally, the gift of Prince Sunali Naphti has granted the ill citrine crystal the clarity of mind to govern the people of her suburb appropriately once more. There will be no more riots there hopefully (though the criminal responsible still remains at large…)

But perhaps the greatest success has been individual. Lukat is dating a prince, Gaston is staying true to his (almost) unattainable love, Gerald is back from the dead after ‘wresting’ a crocodile and gaining a shell fire dagger for her troubles, Oma is gaining valuable insights into avian species, and Methos is reading a greater diversity of books than any scholar of the city in a hundred years.

What more could you want…?

The Grand Sultancy Of Alan Ackman - part 2

After a day of dry and hot wind, the evening breeze is cool and welcome, and the quiet warbling of the night birds a stark contrast against a day of shouting and trading. You are resting your arms against the high balcony where you are permitted to cool yourselves, eating the sweet but strange gifts of fruit they have provided, no longer prisoners but guests of the Great Sultancy of Alan Akhman. A thousand million stars twinkle pleasantly in the early night sky, where a single streak of light crosses towards the north where you people wait eagerly to hear your news. It is a good omen.


Shakhonrazae sees to your comfort, permitted now to be your host and guide instead of guard and jailor. Yet as the evening draws on she politely excused herself and goes alone into the gardens below, sitting by a lilly pond, her hands toying lazily in the dark water as a blue moon timidly lights the sky where the sun once stood, as though waiting for someone.

…

She does not wait for long. For sure enough, within a moment a dark skinned human riding a magic carpet makes his way across the castle wall and joins her. He bows formally, and she curtsies, and he presents her with a flower, placing it gently behind her hair. The sit then, not touching, but talk a good, long time in whispered tones of whatever plans they have, perhaps of you, perhaps of their people, perhaps of their impending marriage. Perhaps this means little to you and you retire, perhaps you long to hear the whispered words of destined lovers. It matters not, not to the stars, not the wind, not to the two betrothed who speak long and softly into the night.

…

Not to the half dozen black clad figures that move suspiciously towards them, the glint of the moon reflecting in their long, drawn daggers…


[As soon as you return to the city there is great rejoycing:
- you have established a trade route that will be very profitable for the city and help stem the boredom and fatigue of so many years in isolation.  There are new raw materials, gems of great value, and interesting foods to sait a population bursting at the seams.
- You have earnt 1000 gp each, and locals sure hope you'll be spending it locally!!
- You bring in a curious Tris elixar:  a magic potion to stem the excess of intellect.  How will you put it to use?
- You bring seeds from another country, perhaps they can prove useful here too?
- You bring a book on crystalomancy written by the Aincient Tris.  This book alone will make a big difference in the technology of the city that it has lost for so many years.  Perhaps they will be able to get the towers fully functioning again?  Not that they've stopped working, but no one has seen them work for over three generations... so there are rumours...
- You bring in a high quality diamond of over 10,000 gp value.  once the citizens overcome their initial dissapointment over you not using it to feed Lauresia's children, thus giving them more space to live on, the news spreads that you intend to create a Skyship, for exploration and defence.  Immediately citizens all over the city spring into action, and in a few short weeks they have costructed a beautiful ship with a single white sale.  Now, if only it worked properly...

The dream

The wizard speaks to his small audience.


“Let us check up on their progress.”

The clouds swirled in the darkened crystal orb, until in a moment they coalesced into the form of a carriage, pulled by four horses. Around this carriage some humanoid forms took shape. Some were walking, heavily armed. Others, shackled.

“They have not done so well, have they!” The wizard laughed. “Though I must say, their exit from the city two weeks ago left much to be desired. First they set up camp right inside a place where some Umberhulk skeletons were found. Heavily preserved, I do not know how they got there. Umberhulk can claw their way through rock as a human through sand, so I can only suspect the walls of the cavern were too strong for the creatures, and the stone too permanent for they to have been brought there. Perhaps they were raised there as young till their keepers left them to starve, or perhaps they were teleported in, I am not sure.”

The little dragon, small enough to fit in a pocket, curled up at the wizard, listening like it understood.

“The events of the next day still puzzle me. A group of fellow adventures attacks on sight, their leader a Paladin of the Sun god. I have no explanation for this either, as I was expecting a far more congenial greeting from the locals. It is sad. Naturally, it led to the local population suspecting our hero’s, and they are in short order captured by that pretty young thing that leads the prison wagon.”

The dragon curled up towards the orb, as though to look at the woman the wizard spoke of.

“I must say, this is the most disturbing puzzle of all. Why a betrothed woman would so often risk the company of the Halfling rogue is beyond me, yet there they are, still speaking as she drives. A greater concern occurred the other night. Our hero’s were thrown in to battle with a terrible Alip - and a cult of madmen. I feared for their lives for they are beyond my reach, as well you know… but they triumphed.

The dragon begun to loose interest, and chose instead to gnaw at a scroll of the wizards desk.

“Hey, stop that!” Then he sighed. “Even so, their greatest challenge lies ahead… will they survive the trial, or will they be found guilty of a murder they did not instigate? I do not know the laws of these people well enough, perhaps it is my fault… and if they do survive, what will happen to our trade? Will we be able to get the necessary supplies to the people here before time runs out? Will the find what we need before it is all too late? I hope to all the Gods they do, or so many may perish, more than they can ever know …”

The dragon curled up, no wiser than a cat, and begun to nap happily around the rim of its masters hat.

“You are a poor audience.” The wizard affectionately complained. “But you listen well even though you are small – a small audience.” He said.

The Grand Sultancy Of Alan Ackman

Player handout 3 – the grand Sultancy

Overview

The grand Sultancy of Aman Akhaman.

To the South, in the centre of this floating continent, lies the current dominating world power: the Grand Sultancy. They have trading interests from the gladden falls to the white mounts, and as far south again as the burning sea. Their army is unrivalled in the world. Tan skinned for every race, and well educated by and large. Lead by the undisputed might of the Grand Sultan himself, undisputed ruler by right and virtue, this nation is eclectic in its makeup and aggressive in its desire to bless the rest of the world with its particular version of enlightenment. They build roads and aqueducts where- ever they conquer, I mean go. Seriously, civil strive dramatically decreases under the stern but fair hand of the Sultancy.

In spite of being a theocracy, the Sultancy is very eclectic, and values the contributions of other cultures, usually allowing concurred cultures to keep many of their own laws and traditions.

Geography

Circular. The burning sun pillar, a mountain with a sun mounted on top, is the focus of their daily life. They believe the gods made it, and their prayers help maintain it. Their enormous walled capital city of Ya-Kamah is set like a crescent moon around the burning desert that surrounds the pillar, living as close as possible to it without needing magical protection.

The further one moves from the capital, the cooler the land becomes. The Sultancy is surrounded by wide, fertile plains that turn into massive forests to the north, a great sea to the south, and enormous mountains to the west and east until the land drops away into the darkness that surrounds the floating islands and continents of this realm.

Military

Huge. Compulsory for all youths beginning their adult years. This highly eclectic and magical army is unmatched in this realm so far, and is still carrying on dozens of campaigns across the stars. They are very well trained and respected.

Daily life

Work hard. Four compulsory prayers each day.

Government

The Sultancy is a Theocracy, ruled autocratically by the inspired hand of the Grand Sultan who rules as prophet and king. Once in their life time, the Grand sultan will name a successor. This is usually done to give the successor many many years to prepare. While there is some precedent for father-son successors this is in no way expected, and some of the strangest individuals have been chosen, as diamonds in the rough, to become the next sultan. The decision is based on, supposedly, inspiration regarding who will be the best fo the job and not family preference.

Religion

The basic religion is based on a broad selection of readings from “The grand text” – which concerns itself predominantly with defining a ‘wise soul’. The ‘wise soul’ is kind to his enemies, speaks softly to children, keeps his promise etc. It includes numerous stories of good deeds, fables to illustrate ideals (‘a certain man was fallen among thieves… and there passed by that way a wise soul etc), and historical instances, including conundrums various wise souls of the past have had to face where all obvious options led to undesirable ends – until the ‘wise soul’ found a better way. Needless to say, wisdom is a big part of the culture. It is expected that the current High Sultan will add a page or two to the grand text, and only the highest Judges have the ability to formally add stories and saying to the text – the best of them might get to add a sentence or two.

The Sultancy also has a rich oral storytelling culture, and it is a highly valued skill. Three attributes are explicitly celebrated by the culture, Love, honour and beauty, and these virtues tend to triumph over all in various texts. To die for one of these virtues is highly respected.

Crime and punishment

The Judges form an important role in the culture, and are almost exclusively clerics and experts in the Grand Text. They are given special treatment while abroad, and expected to quote the grand text in small speeches whenever invited to meals. They are also not above the law, and a judge may only be tried by a higher judge or three lesser judges.

Punishment is based on ‘an eye for an eye’, with an emphasis on favouring the victims. Apologies are highly valued in the culture, and criminals, real or framed, can spend years in prison for refusing to apologise (which can be a problem since honour is highly valued in this culture). So a stolen cow must be replaced, blinding is met with blinding, incarceration with incarceration, false accusation with the punishment you attempted to extort from another, etc. The system tries to be fair.



Cultural oddities

* It is customary to allow your opponents, even in lethal combats, two or three rounds to buff up. Only the lowest of the low, such as highway robbers, attack in the surprise round.



* Females traditionally wear veils, but this is more to counter the ageing affects of being so near the burning sun than any thing else. Social rank is very important in this culture – peasant, merchant, royal, and one higher ranked than yourself has many privileges, including who speaks first and interruption rights – interrupting one higher than yourself is a terrible sign of disrespect.


* The Veil dancer - Veil dancers are exotic fighters from far away lands, clothed only in seven thin sheets of fabric. They learn magical techniques of turning their own clothing into dangerous weapons, their sheets acting as whips, blades and ropes.

The Enemy

Suddenly, you are filled with a sense of dread. About you, the world becomes shadowy and translucent, with a dark shadowy haze that conceals the details of a landscape that now appears flat all the way to the edges of the distant horizon. Your comrades are nowhere to be seen, and all is in shadow, except the watching stones that now appear made of translucent white quartz, glowing dimly. Suddenly, your feeling of uncertainly changes into pure dread as you sense the presence of unmitigated evil approaching.

Suddenly, your weapons are stuck from you hands, and any spells you had torn from your mind. You are filled head to toe with unspeakable pain. But it is not the pain of the body, but of the spirit; a spirit forced into the presence of its immortal enemy. For a moment the alien presence just watches your struggles with sadistic disinterest. Then you hear soft, unbooted footsteps. He is approaching…

Your pain intensifies with every step. It is almost impossible to see now through the wailing pain. How it is possible to cause such pain with a mere presence is incomprehensible. Then you find a thought worming its way into your consciousness; that you would give anything to die right now than face another second with this unending, unmeasured agony.

You hear a voice speak, and it is a simple, pleasant voice. But it still causes immense pain.

“Where are you?” It asks.

Again the pain intensifies, till you can almost stand it no longer, and from the mists you hear a voice in desperation reply, telling him where you are…

For a moment then, you see his face. It is an alien face with cold, red glowing eyes. A circular mouth of skull splitting teeth is surrounded by 4 long probing tentacles. He seems… pleased... and says to you all: “I will kill your children’s children, and then I will kill your children, and then I will kill you…”

The Choosing

“You see!” Palayon speaks up suddenly, as though to someone you cannot see. “I told you they were made of the right stuff!”


Immediately in a shimmer of dark blue light a radiant female figure appears. It is the Sapphire lady, smiling pleasantly at you. “Perhaps, but they’ve many more tests to face first.”

“One’s I’m sure you’re cunningness will concoct shortly!” a dark voice replies, and you turn to see the shadow master emerging from the darkness between the bookshelves.

“Indeed!” Palayon replies “But from what I’ve seen, these young ones are more than able of creating their own adventures without our help from us!”

“You remember, Old man” The Lady speaks. “We were the last ones, some 50 years ago, as I recall. We four braved the world outside to bring light and hope…

“And food!” The shadow master pipes in, she gives him her sternest scowl, but it is lost in his mischievous grin from ear to ear. Slowly, the patrician façade melts, but only slightly.

“And food, to all the people of the city. It has been a long time.” She agrees.

“Indeed!” Palayon replies. “But our time is long spent! It is time for us to hand the burden, and the blessings, to younger hands.”

“Ah, those were the good old days!” The shadow master sighs happily “When the four of us were out in the multiverse, causing trouble, hoarding treasure, felling foes! Sad the minotaur couldn’t come today eh?”

With a sudden gasp the shadow master is swept up from his feet, and you hear the minotaur speak as she leaves her invisibility.

“And miss a chance to torment you, child man?” Miraculously, he somehow wiggles free and huffs, feigning indignantly as he stands surefooted on the floor.

“But sorry I’m late” She says. “I had some… work to attend to.”

“We’ve all become busy nowadays, haven’t we? No time for heroics now.” The sapphire lady speaks, and were she not the picture of serenity you might think you hear the edge of sadness to her tale.

“Pah!” The shadow master retorts cheekily. “Speak for yourself, blue pants. My life is still an adventure!”

“Perhaps,” Palayon replies, a mischievous smile playing on his lips, “but not even you have been able to travel outside the walls in many years, have you, master of shadows?” Then he sighs reticently. “It is time, and long overdue, for… others… to take on the adventure.  We need trade.  We need food.  We need raw materials... "

He turns to face you all “Well young ones, do you accept your choosing? Are you ready to take the adventure outside the city walls and explore the wider world?”

The Birthing

You hold out the Orizon crystal to the white mote of sand on the Loremasters desk, and suddenly the shuddering in the city ceases, and is filled with instead with a profound silence, as though time itself would stand still in reverence for what you are about to witness…

Instantly, all the colours fade from the crystal and it crumbles to dust. A glowing fountain, the full spectrum of colours, leap from your hand to fill up the shard… black, brown, red, then all through the rainbow to purple, then silver and finally gold. They all fall into the little grain of sand which begins to glow a brilliant white.

And that glow gets brighter, and brighter. Within moments the room is filled with the most blindingly brilliant white light you have ever seen, and you suddenly sense you are surrounded by a vast multitude of other souls – you are not alone in the room.

Then, suddenly, completely, the light disappears.

For a moment you all stand there, wondering what happens next.

“Oh.” Says Palayon after a moment pause. “I wonder if that’s …”

He is cut short by an enormous explosion. You are all flung backwards as a kaleidoscope of colours burst form the room, shattering the windows. At first the light itself seems to be tugging at your clothes, threatening to tare you apart, but after a moment it begins to subside.

Daring to look up, you see bright star trails of light heading towards the outer walls, imbedding themselves like meteors into it. The citizens of the city look up in amazement.

“Quickly! To the scopes!” Palayon instructs, pulling you up to look out at magical telescopes which allow you to see the outside wall of the city.

And all over that outer wall, hundreds, no, thousands of bulges are now clearly visible. It is as though the stones are tearing themselves from the rock, and indeed they do. First one, then another, the city wall fusing back together where the clods of earth and stone emerge. Some are huge, larger than a three story house, while many, many dozens are no larger than your fist. Some are like polished stones, some are clumps of dirt, and some few are glowing crystals.

Gently, the offspring of the city silently float around her perimeter, some few emerging to ‘peer’ curiously over the wall. They float down among the citizens, greeting them with affection and faith, never straying far from the city they call mother.

The majority of the birthing is completed in an hour, yet still for many weeks stones are emerging from that wall.

Finally, Lauresia has given birth.

Chapter 1 part 1 - The Shard of Light

Your dreams are disturbing this night, tossing and turning in your beds you repeatedly hear a woman crying out with birthing pains, but her voice echoes in a silent wilderness. You call out to her, but she does not seem to hear you. Stumbling through the darkness you see a deep shadow that fills you with terror. Emerging from the blackness are huge tentacles that block out the sky and a single inhuman eye that does not, for now, seem to notice you. Straightaway you begin to flee – the shadow brings a solemn fear that you have only known once before, when you heard the name of the enemy. Whatever it is, it is seeking the woman. But you are the first to find her. You come across a beautiful woman dressed in grey, but there are none to assist her to give birth. She sits down on the earth, and looks up at you with pity and fear in her eyes. She looks tired. It seems she is in desperate need of help, but you do not know what you can do…