It is finished... for now...

He is dead. The great Enemy, the God Ka Sha K’hacknah, is finally slain by your combined efforts…

For a moment, there is silence. Suddenly the scene outside the windows, frozen in time, reanimates in an explosion of violence and fire, the sun pillar fading in its dyign heat. Yet the enemies unstoppable ship still careens towards the fleeing Lauresia. They are on a collision course…

You stare out of the windows, helpless to act.  Then the air itself is rent by a mighty explosion and you and thrown to the floor.  Fire is breaking out all along the Flagships length, and the gathering energies at the front of the vessel begin to whirl in a random kaleidoscope of tortured colours.  The scene tilts as the flagship begins to fall. Suddenly the entire front of the vessel explodes.  Without warning an enormous explosion of coloured light erupts from the front of flagship, a chaotic cacophony of uncontrolled colours and light, engulfing the entire broken lands and many of your allied forces: a hundred allied ships, stones from Lauresia, winged skylings, a smattering of aberrations … and Scooby.

All disappear.

 …

 Assention.

It does not take long for Methos to grasp the meaning of his new existence. For while all of you are now more powerful that you have ever imagined (level 21), Methos seems to have absorbed a disproportionate amount of the scattering divinity. He has become a hero God of time and psyonics.

If he was arrogant before…

He does not age, nor can he be slain by any normal means. Indeed, only by slaying him in his home plane can his death be considered final. And with that thought a nagging feeling remain – you task is incomplete.

For unless you destroy all the remains of the Enemy in the Benighted realm he will, one day, return to life and hunt you once more. It may take a thousand years, it may take only one…

Will you leave this task to others to complete?

The final council

The council is gathered. There are representatives from the seven great nations of the Sphere. The Wise Sultancy lead by Sultan Sunali Naphti, the learned Tris represented by keeper of the mahogany obsidian gate, the charismatic skylings and their beautiful Queen, the mighty Warlords by their Kobold chieftain, the salubrious Beastmen represented by the mighty ranger Raining day, the skilful Pirates and their Lady Ebon. And at the head of the table sits Palayon, chairperson of Lauresia. 

“The armies are ready, my Lord.” The Herald speaks. “And each are placed according to the councils arrangement. Each day brings news of our enemies advance forces, attacking in small numbers and at seemingly random.”

“They are trying to strike fear into our hearts, but it won’t work!” The Warlord chieftain roars, to scattered applause. “Besides, I am disappointed. The enemy sends his weakest against us, his pawns.”

“Perhaps, but I think it more likely they are testing our area’s of weakness, exploring our strategies.” Palayon advised, many nod at his sage advice.

“True also,” Sunali advises, “But I fear his stratagems are far more deviant. I alone here have tasted his bile. I know his cunning. By giving us weak adversaries he is convincing us that he is less of a threat than he really is. Then, look here, as he takes the northern and western mountains we think little of it. But he then gains direct access to the beastmen forest of the Sultancy, and riverside access towards Yakamman. Sending in his elite troops in these area’s while we consider the threat from his forward flank would be devastating to our defences.

Everyone is silent. No one can deny Sunali’s insight, and they are in shock at the Enemies tactics he has revealed.

“Then we best set the Warlord elite units 1 and 7 at Yakamman.” Palayon advises.

“They will like that as much as they will enjoy pulling their own mothers eyelashes.” The Kobold disagrees. “They will want to be in the front line, they all do.”

Palayon smiles. “Yes, but they will see action, and be critical to our war efforts. I promise!”

“I will send healers to attend them.” Raining day states.

“Assist, or placate?” the Kobold disagrees.

Raining day sneers at him, and the air in the room is tense.

The Skyqueen changes the topic. “The Tris have redeveloped high range cannonry since the intrusion by the future selves, who you reported attempted to assassinate your hero’s, correct Palayon?”

“Indeed, a troubling development. We can be sure whatever abomination latched onto them informed the enemy of our tactics in the alternative time stream. We must act as if our best strategies are watched.”

“And are they not?” Ebon interjects. “Need I remind you who we fight today? A GOD.”

“Let me assure you, reincarnate,” The Tris scholar interjects, “The Enemy you justly fear is far more blinded by our powerful Tris magics than you can even imagine. We have slain more Gods than you can count, this one will be little different.”

The room is silent at his confidence.

For all his bravado all know the Tris Empire did, eventually, fall.

“And what if we do overcome the Terror nimbus? What then? What power have we that can defeat this deity?” The Kobold asks.

“Patience.” Sunali councils. “He will not doubt guess that all our hopes ride on bringing down his nimbus, a tactical oversight I am counting he did not guess us to know. We must not bring all our forces to bear against him should the nimbus fall. Our best hope is to either send small groups, elite forces, into his flagship, or hope our salvation arises from another area to defeat him. Either way, any who face him personally can expect resistance of an unimaginable magnitude.”

“Then what?” Ebon shouts, “We take his ship, and his army, only to be defeated by the Enemy in person?!”

“No. not this time.” Palayon interjects, the hurt in his eyes only barely concealed at his anger in allowing a doopleganger into the city, even one that eventually turned against her God. “We must not forget the hero’s. They have shown more skill, faith and luck in these two short years than our entire culture in 100,000 in defeating the enemy and thwarting his plans. When the terror nimbus fails, you must each do what you feel is right. But my heart tells me that all our hopes, all our LIVES, rest on those still so young. It is up to them, or no-one.”

Once more, the room is silent with this truth. Soon conversation turns once more to how to best prepare the cities, armies and people of the Great Sphere.

The Obsidian blade

His voice is raspy, slightly mocking “I am Moonsong, lieutenant of the legions that first saw to the slaying to Hextors avatar, a slaying which lead to such arrogance it brought about the death of all the Tris and their Gods! Let only those that deem themselves most worthy to wield the Obsidian blade consider touching it, (don’t touch it unless you’re going to keep it) for it’s power is a curse: only those wishing to slay a God consider wielding it, and only a God feels threatened by those that do. Touch it, and you will be feared – not by mortals, but you will make enemies of those that never rest…. Mwa ha ha ha ha!

The Obsidian blade. +8 dagger, able to sneak attack gods each time it is used. Can be thrown an infinite number of times each round (depending on the throwers skill). Has permanent non detection and undetectable aura CL 27 on the dagger and holder. Can be used to cast non detection, protection from scrying, veil 1/ week at level 27 (all spells at once, last for 9 hours) on up to 9 individuals. Can cast Deeper darkness, Greater invisibility, summon shadows 5 at will. +4 to control orb of nothingness.

The future selves

1. The child of Methos
The Oracle has called you in. she is dying. “Beloved, oh my beloved. I am not long for this world. I will not live to see your Enemy arrive, if I live to see another day. But I have a gift for you. A gift none of your kind may ever hold. It is our child… it is our son… Ooodubranairanon."

2. The war lords

Gerry heaves, and heaves… first there is a crack, then a small fissure appears in one end. It slowly begins to re-heal, and Gerry heaves again. And again. Suddenly, with a crack like thunder, the meteorite is broken!

3. The future selves

When the Enemy came… it was not the straight forward honest fight I think we all expected. We fought hard, we fought long, and eventually we began to push his forces back on the northern flank. The Sultans forces were responsible for this. We were almost to his flag ship, an enormous squid like thing surrounded by an aura of shadow, a ‘terror nimbus’. We were about to mount an offensive against him personally.

Then, it was the strangest thing, it was as if it had never happened. There was a blinding flash of black light from the terror nimbus, greatly draining it, yet time changed. It was as if the Enemy had gone back in time and changed history without us. He knew our tactics, he knew which inspired leaders to target. And the only ones who knew it had happened were those with power stones. We had no chance, we were outstretched and outclassed. Lauresia fell within the hour, the Sultancy was next. He sent a great fleet to destroy the Tris but they closed their portal just in time, leaving us to our fate.

We continued to fight; horrible, terrifying guerrilla warfare. Living in trenches, each new day brought news of new atrocities happening to loved ones. We don’t know when this happened to us… but it did… and now we are sure he knows everything we know…

(Now, what where your three suggestions of what to do about that again?)

The God Who Remained - part 2

He looks at you his eyes such endless pools of darkness you fear they may draw you in and you would be lost forever. Then, for the first time his eyes are filled with a light of hope. “Yes… what I did, I had to do, though it was not pleasant. I broke no law, though perhaps I was a little harsh... I will forgive myself. I will move on. I am no longer a slave to my past!!”

With a tremendous roar, The God Who Remained stands up, ribbons of glory as living flame burst from the air to envelope him. All around you, the stone crumbles and dissolves to leave a glorious landscape paved in pure gold, pillars of resplendent Lapis Lazuli reaching up into the depths of a star scaped heaven.

The God Who Remained breathes once more, and it is the deep breath of a man returning from the dead. His voice is full, complete, and inspiring. “I am free. You have helped set me free!” The light about him grows and gathers till it is too bright to imagine, and you are forced to look away or be blinded.

Then, with a clap of thunder, he is gone, and you are back on ground, outside the temple. All around you, millions of Logarmayon souls are waiting, looking intently at you. You sense they are grateful - Completely and enraptured with gratitude. Slowly, they begin to fade, and the Gods voice speaks to your mind.

“I am grateful. These may now move on, and be completed. I am grateful…”

(included treasure, a +4 large keen scythe of slaying, a gem for Lukat, and a large sized treasure chest - about two by one meters - full of charged Orizon crystals...)

The God Who Remained, part 1

Legends long forgotten speak of an ancient race of powerful beings. A race who built the Great Sphere, a race whose broken world now makes up the millions of islands of the Eversea. Legends that, if they are to be believed, speak of weapons of immense power, weapons that could slay a God, weapons that could shatter a world. Those same legends also speak of a forgotten deity who might offer knowledge of such weapons. A single God, a God known only as “The God Who Remained…”



… The constructs waited.

They had waited for a million years. Unmoving, uncaring. They waited. Theirs was eternity to own. They had no passion, they felt no boredom. They knew only one thought: At any cost - Do not let any take the crystal from the stone circle.

They heard the intruders long before the intruders knew they existed. They read their thoughts even before they’d found the eternally warring spirits of the Logarmayon. But the intruders were not trying to take the crystal from the stone circle, so the constructs waited.

They watched passionless as the intruders circumvented the warring spirits to enter the hall of learning. There the intruders repaired the Encyclopaedia, and there they learnt about the destruction of the Logarmayon; how they’d offended their god, and plotted their own divinity at any cost.

But they did not try to move the crystal, so the constructs waited.

They watched without feeling as the intruders went to the people’s tower. There they set free the five rebellious leaders of the people, whose greed and lust for personal power had turned the citizens against each other. The constructs listened as the intruders wondered why the God who Remained had done nothing to prevent this tragedy. They listened without sorrow as the intruders learnt that it was the God himself who had done this. The God who had slain his own people rather than wait for them to destroy themselves. The God who now would not forgive himself, and who had torn off a part of his soul rather than risk allowing himself to receive his own compassion.

Still they waited, for none tried to remove their crystal from the stone circle. And they would wait for ever for…

…suddenly it was gone.

A pair of stone arms had risen from the floor, enveloped the crystal which had been the focus of the growing divinity which the people had coveted, and it was gone. Only one had managed to unleash her lightening, but had missed.

And in less than a moment, the crystal was gone.

…

Their purpose had ended. With no instructions left to fulfil, the light in their eyes slowly dimmed as they each fell into the requisite dreamless inactivity. There, they would wait for further instructions. And they could wait forever, for theirs was eternity to own…

Peace among the natives and the Messed up present

“It’s all true!” Raining day explains to the children, “I was an enemy to the Tris. I held on to the old ways. But my friends, our true allies of Lauresia, took me back in time when the Empire of the Tris once stood. And there I learnt a painful lesson – they had once saved our people, saved them all! And we were in debt to them, a debt which must not be forgotten!


The children cheer. He continues:

“However, they had forgotten. And they took us for granted. They treated us like slaves. This broke our people and theirs apart. This is what created the debt which cannot be forgiven.”

The children gasp. He continues:

“I went back, to destroy them. But I stopped once I learnt that what I thought could not be forgiven must not be forgotten!”

Silence. Oblivious to their confusion, he continues.

“But we made a mistake. Going back in time, we moved a noble cat. Time divided against itself, and a boy who was not hurt did not prevent his mother from speaking against a cruel law. Then, when the war that approaches overtook them, we fought by their side to our deaths! It was the death of our people. We returned to the present only to find there were no Beastmen, no Sultancy, no Light in Lauresia. Their city was dark, held prisoner by an almost irresistible force of evil, compelling all to join in the battle in the war that comes. We had to go back in time and make an enemy of an ally or all our people would perish!”

One child, overtaxed by the cognitive demands, bursts into tears. He continues:

“So we went back, back to the Tris I now love. And with all the respect and gratitude I could muster, laid the smack down on that helpful Tris senator. They voted down a kind law, and now I am confident that after the war that comes our people of the past will survive! And with the mightly Empire of the Tris as our allies in the war that comes, our people of the present will survive!!”

“But sir!” A child asks.

“Yes?” Raining day replies.

“What’s a Tris…?”

The Heart of Stone

The ritual is long, and complex. Hundreds of druids participate in the month long preparations as two life forms prepare to merge into one – the first, a human druid, the second, an aincient world tree with a living emerald at its heart. Even with both participants willing, it is a terribly dangerous operation.


At its culmination Oma takes on the living embodiment a plant, permanently transmorphed into a being of wood for flesh and sap for blood. The change in irreversible. At the same time, the World tree submits to have its emerald heart transplanted into living flesh. Then, the two must become one, a hundred druids chanting in rhythm, as Oma steps into the world tree. With great care and practiced precision, his most trusted assistant Lima then removes his wodden heart and replaces it with the living emerald. There is a brilliant flash of green light, and the tree closes around his body, crushing it, permanently making it a part of its own even as his spirit is merged forever with the Tree’s. For a moment, nothing happens. Everyone waits with bated breath for one minute, then two. Then fifteen.

“This isn’t going to happen till the next full moon people.” Lima explains.

Mumbles of disappointment and confusion ensue, and the witnesses depart, upset at the lack of fireworks.

Two days later the ritual naturally completes itself, as during the first full moon of it’s new life, the now Fey Lord Oma steps silently from the World Tree, finally perceiving itself as a living and moving humanoid, finally experiencing himself as the perfect union of sentient nature as the World Tree.

It is Oma – Fey Lord of the World Tree…

The Shrine

We were those who died so that others might be free, we were those whose sacrifice you promised not forget. No greater love is there than this, than to die for those you love. This is our sacrifice, this is our legacy. Remember, Remember. Do not forget.

- Ikendri is now an epic level artifact (+3, superior cold 3d6, superior holy 3d6, cold iron intelligent greatsword with immunity to fire and the special mission of defeating evil outsiders, at another +3 and 3d6 superior bane ability. that's a +12 sword, by my calculations worth over 1 million GP. Yep.)

- You are all now level 17. You'll need to make a plan for where to go next. The enemy is approaching, and time is compressing. You had two years. You don't have that much time now. You don't know how much time there is left at all...

The Quest of the Fey Queen (pre christmas special)

The emissary from the Sultancy is elated, “you did it! Not one of a dozen diplomatic missions to the Fey Queen was able to secure her allegiance in the upcoming war! They all returned insulted, defeated, or covered in confetti. But you! You are the true hero’s. You must tell me what happened?”


A thousand thoughts no doubt run though you mind. What do you tell him? About the finding of the needle in the haystack? About the Menagerie markets and their puzzle ridden store keep? Perhaps you can tell him about your heroic defeat of the dark wizard Grugamel, thus setting free the diminutive blue gnomes of the forest (even before he could say ‘hey, did someone just stab me in the back?”) Perhaps you can explain the particular qualities of the demiplane of levity, and how it almost trapped you there forever? (Scooby seemed lively today, didn’t he?) Perhaps you should tell him of your heroic defense of the toymaker, demigod of gifts, or of your brief but tasty stay in the paraelemental plane of candy? Perhaps you can tell him how you did all this just to acquire a hairpin from the Fey Queen, so that she can use the needle in the haystack: as a hairpin!

Was it really such a waste of time? Or was there some message in the adventure that will help you unravel the mystery of the Great Enemy?

Then again, perhaps it all seemed too unreal. Perhaps you should tell him it was just a dream…

Pirates, girlfriends, the the divinity sphere...

(the following was probably scried from Gerries spoon)


The pirates were on their second drink before the conversation became interesting.

“’ave ye ‘erd who the new Pirate Lady is?” Bootleg asked his companion, Ropelathe.

“Oo ‘asn’t!” He replied. “Everyone knows ‘bout that Ebon Lady! Comes out of nowhere and now she’s the first Lady since Wendelania! Apparently she’s with them heroes of Lauresnia, or something.”

“Yeah, so rumour has it. Strange bunch that lot. Eh! Heard what that Lady Gerry called her Bosun! Bobo! Musta hated him something right!”

“Yeah,” but Bootleg whisperers, “but heard what happens to him, I hear he tried to cross lady Gerry and he finds himself locked up in Cressellia’s cells. Reckon it’s only a matter of time before someone tries to poison him.”

“Man Luck too!” Ropelathe agrees. “You can bet if Great Lady Ebon’s with that Lauresia crew they won’t be missing him much. If not by their hand, by those that seek their favour.”

“Eye!” Bootleg agrees.

“So what you ‘ear about Ebon? She any good? Whose her bosun?”

“I know nothing” Bootleg protests. A single gold coin exchanges hands so quickly it cannot be seen.

“I ‘ear she’s pretty good,” Bootleg states, “there’s talk that she doesn’t have a bosun, runs it all herself. Say she’s quick, smart. Kinda pretty too, if humans are you style.”

They pause to look at each other.

“Naaa!” They both agree.

“So what ‘ave you ‘eard about them Lauresnian sorts?” Bootleg asks.

“I know nothing” Ropelathe argues.

Again the gold coin crosses the table.

“Everyone knows they’re trying to start a war.” Ropelathe begins,

“I ‘ear the wars going to start with or without us.” Bootleg argues, “there’s talk of some mad deity invading the sphere. They say not even the wizards can get out of the sphere any more. They say… not two years…”

“I ‘ear the same things.” Ropelathe agrees, and reluctantly slides the coin back. “Least it explains all the random aberrations turning up. Just last week uncle caught a pair of Gnarks sneaking around his deck. Now don’t go spreading rumours, but I reckon it’s those Laurensians who brought Enemy along with them. They say he’s after them, not us, but now we’re all caught up in it.”

“That’s good information….” Bootleg agrees. Ropelathe holds out his hand, and the coin moves back again. “Hey, wouldn’t it be weird if it was one of those temporial paladoxies, where they hadn’t turned up, there would be no enemy, but there’d be no us either!”

“Shut up!” Ropelathe scowls.

“Still,” Bootleg continues, “I hears those heroes’ of Lauresia were all over each others throats last week, that they found some sort of Divinity Sphere and went all nuts over it’s power. They say it almost turned violent.”

“Where you get your information!” Ropelathe scowls, “that’s rubbish.”

“Naw, way I reckons it, we pirates need to look after ourselves. And when that enemy comes, I’m running the other way.”

“And risk not fighting with Lady Ebon? I’d risk my mother for that chance. They say she’s rich…”

“Rich?”

“Rich, powerful.”

“How rich?”

“Why, her wealth would be… well, more wealth than you can imagine!” Rolling the coin along the table.

“I dunno,” Bootleg continues, watching its slow rolling, “I can imagine quite a …”

But his voice trailed off as a shadow crossed the tavern where they were drinking. A huge tower of stone, torn from the ground and held aloft by a sentient earthen crystal. While they were distracted, a small boy snatched up the coin before it could roll to its destination.

“I ‘ear he’s dating an abolyth.” Bootleg whispered.

“What!?” Ropelathe swore. “no ones going to take you seriously!”

“Just what I ‘eard.” Bootleg muttered. “Boats I get, but floating stone? That ain’t right.”

“Nothin’ right about all this. War. No one needs war...”

The Oracle...

Again, an old wizard watches his scrying bowl.


“So! There really is an oracle in the Eversea! And what an informative and engaging experience it was to observe its liaison with Methos first hand. Excellent!” He admitted to the little fairy dragon that kept him company. “I must admit, I envy them. They have all surpassed me and my companions for power! And now they seek the weapons to slay a god? How brave they are, and how unaware of the dangers. Let me see if I’ve got this list correct.” He muttered to himself, ticking off items on his fingers.

1. First, they must find the Divinity sphere which has been hidden in this dimension from the prime material world of Jinix. It contains the essence of a deity that can be used to defeat the enemy. Sounds simple enough.

2. The next item must be forged in the sun pillar, and left for 1000 years. Gerry hopes to give Ikendri the power of an artefact this way, I hope it will suffice.

3. Lukat has been told she does not need to seek out her artefact, it will seek her out. however, I suspect some work will be required on her part.

4. Methos must seek the blessing of the six great tribes that inhabit this sphere in order to create a great staff of the Magi. That will do the trick!

5. What Oma wants is a bit of a mystery, but he may be seeking to merge with a powerful life form. The oracle told him his answers lie in the outer planar dimension of Elysium.

6. Their turned spy Ebon should be able to take on her former deity with the One Knife from the “hall of evil”. This may or may not be a good thing.

7. Finally, the last artefact is in the hands of the “God who remained”. They must divine further answers from this.”

Again the wizard smiled. “That’s quite a list. I hope they’re up to it.” The he laughed, “Well, they defeated the Nightmare of the Leviathan, and an aspect of its dreams. They chased off a flock of abyssal dolphins, and prevented defeat from a narwhale. They are doing so very well, perhaps they are up to this as well? And what about the wish sword! What an amazing work! pity none can wield it yet, perhaps when they are of sufficient power? well, the oracle might not have answered many of their questions, but she has told them a lot about how to defeat a God...”

“Less than two years now. Two years, after 10,000 years of running. And yet it seems so little time…”

Submerging boats and a pirate lord

(written with the help of Imogen - enjoy!)

Bobo looks at you seriously, concern written all over his face.


“Of course I understand, my Dread Lady Gerry, but the cause of the Pirates must take precedence! Many are dying under this great civil war, and unless you take a strong stand…”
Gerry nodded thoughtfully and stared up at the low wooden beams of the ceiling. “Were you always a bloodthirsty pirate Bobo? No! Many years ago you probably had a childhood, a mother perhaps, and I'm sure you dreamed of being a fireman or a physician. You know I dreamed of being a cake decorator once. And for a short while, a fungi farmer. Well, there are sweet little children all over the Eversea who dream of being something when they grow up Bobo, but there won't be a future for them if we don't defeat the Enemy! And that means a trip to that nub-bitten Oracle ” Gerry said resolutely.

“Of course! But… well... this oracle isn’t going anywhere in a while is she? Surely you can delay your visit for at least a year till that Leviathan thing is asleep again? Or if not, the combined resources of the Pirate nation will surely allow you to travel unimpeded through this dark water?"

Gerry glared at him, thinking darkly about his probable illiterical upbringing, his fondness for strong ale and bouts of senseless brawling, and struggling not to point out to Bobo how all three combined did no favours for the working of his brain.
“At least this truce with Man Luck has bought us some time, and the war is somewhat abated." he continued nervously. "My Dread Lady, please, go to Cressellia, put an end to this insult. You must realize… there is talk among the crews…if you do not put on a show of force within the day they may begin to question your leadership.”
“None of them are sober enough to remember my name anyway” Gerry muttered. "But you speak truly Bobo! I need to stir them up. Need to whip those pink-bellied wusses into a respectable fighting force. No time for fancy cheeses and hardcover books! We need to be ready for war Bobo, but with the Enemy, not Man Luck. He will just have to wait."
At first surprised, Bobo then calmed down. “Of course, as my dread lady wishes. So much has changed, in such a short time, and with this enemy bearing down on us, if it is true and I have no doubt it is because you’ve told us, than perhaps that really should be our priority. Very well then, we will keep them waiting – who is Man Luck to summon you at his whim? None can hurry the decisions of the most honored pirate Lord in a thousand years! I mean, just look at what you’ve achieved! You slew a lich and took his secrets of the boat that can fly underwater, and none before you could do this. You added the Ming Wun Fu banner to your own, now you almost equal Man Lucks incredible success. What you lack in fortresses, you make up for in space – none control more of the Eversea than you now! Anyone can see that!”
He smiled, but he could not hide the concern in his eyes.
“Oh, and another thing, not that I would complain my dread lady, but the code name you’ve given me, Bobo… some of the men find it a bit… demeaning to be following a leader named after a childs’ toy. Not me, of course! I quite like it! But for the morale of the troops…”
"How about B... Wet Bobo? Bobo the Heartless? El Grande Bobo? Mr Bobo?"

The Seathern Oracle, part 1

The Eversea is an unusual site, a great ball of water, as though someone had sucked up the entire oceans of a planet and plastered them together in space. Unending sea stretches out in all direction… You spot a small black dot on the miles and miles of endless sea. It is well hidden, almost no light shines up from it. But as you approach you see it is not a dot at all, but a floating city, and fairly sizeable one at that. it appears to be made out of hundreds, if not thousands, of vessles stitched together.

Then it strikes you, you have found Wendholm, the secret hideout of Char Blackthroat, one of the most successful pirate lords to date. Wendholm is rumoured to be a place of extreme violence and debauchery, a veritable pirates paradise. But it is also the only place to go for rare and exotic spell components. Few know of its whereabouts, few trade here, even fewer ever leave.

Much has been achieved today:

- Gerry managed to slay another pirate lord, adding another banner to her own. New has now reached your new base of opperations, Wendholm, that Hok the barbaric has fallen to Barrum Steelhammer, dwarven pirate Lord. The civil war is intensifying, but Lady Gerry's forces are better secured with the addition of Blackthroats pirates. Bobo (a code name, we assume) is administring the details of the takeover, relaying your wishes to the sixteen new pirate vessels Gerry now owns, including an unusal and inexplicable desire among the populace of Wendholm for exotic cheeses.

- You saved the whales from an undead menage, helped Billy fix his aparatus of Kwalsh, captured Blackthroats diving bell. However, you haven't wrested the book of underwater flying from the Lich's undead fingers just yet.  And you even asked nicely! now you have three ways to get to the oracle, congratulations


- next step: the oracle. the Leviathan is supposed to sleep once a year, and in two days time is the optimal time to descend to the unfathomable depths of the Endless Ocean.
 
What was this adventure like for your PC's, and what will they do now?
Also, please jot down any questions for the Oracle, so i can be prepared!
 

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.