A Light in the Darkness

[Eldan]

Faces around you have been solemn, ever since you volunteered for what, in the timeless perspective of the celestials, may well be called a suicide mission. The ritual itself was short but complex, a solar aasimon, tulanni eladrin, ursinal guardinal and throne archon standing at the edges of a large and intricate magic circle, drawn from a dozen liquids and fine powders, sigils and runes intervowen in it's structure.
And then, while they were chanting, it all came crashing down on you: mortality. Your connection to the planes severed, the essential voice in the back of your minds that made you what you were: an exemplar, the embodiment of an alignment, the will of a plane and a higher power.
The ritual has given you new powers, a thin veil hiding you from most magical detection and obscuring your forms, making you appear as normal mortals if you choose so, but these are a poor substitute indeed for the peace of mind that one has when he knows with absolute certainty that he is fulfilling the will of absolute good.

After the ritual, you were lead to your new domicil: the Celestials have not spared the expense, purchasing the entire top floor of a large building in the market ward for you, an accomodation that, while not luxurious, was still more than sufficient for all your needs. The rooms, one for each of you and several to spare, were newly renovated and painted, temporarily freed from Sigil's ubiquitous grime and the traces left behind by dirty and sour rain over the ages.
For now, you've been given time to accomodate yourself with your new existence, spare time that will be rare and precious as soon as you are sent into the battles of the blood war.

And so you find yourself on a busy market street, not too far from Sigil's Great Bazaar itself. Even here, the city rarely rests, and beneath a grey sky, the thin air heavy with fog and rain, a dozen merchants praise their goods:

http://img4.imageshack.us/img4/3192/greatbazaar1.jpg


There is a night hag, tending to her stall all day, before retreating to whatever dark activities she persues at night, selling bundles of wriggling larvae to passing fiends and, in the guise of an old woman, spells to the passing clueless.
There is a djinn, offering flagons of scented air that he claims will never loose their fragrance when opened in a room. Every so often, he throws angry glances at an Efreet in the stall on the other side of the street, selling shining rocks from the elemental plane of fire that never loose their glow, bright as a torch or candle.
There is a gnome, clothed in a white fur cloak over expensive black vestments, selling what he claims is "spirit candy", rock-hard pieces of brown sugar that contain the spirits of rare animals from the prime, granting the purchaser some of their strenght and speed upon consumption.
A dark skinned black elf, clothed in chainmail sells head-sized mushrooms, black, slimy and foul-smelling, dug from the roots of Yggdrasil, containing the poison of the dragon Nidhöggr.
Right next to him, an Aasimar with a smile reaching from ear to ear and blond hair flowing around head in a kind of hovering cloud, the final merchant in sight, is selling "holy" artefacts: blessed water from the seas of Celestia, only looking like ordinary spring water thanks to the grey light of sigil, ambrosia from Elysium that only appears to be mead because of the intoxicating effect of the poor goodness and peaches from the gardens of immortality that are only brown and mouldy from the transport.

[Vox Clamantis]

Kalaziel's mind is at peace. Even the lifting of his spiritual connection to the Mounting Heavens does not shake his inner convictions. One does not live for countless thousands of years as a petitioner in Celestia without developing a moral sense of one's own. When one requires affirmation of truth, it is no truth at all.

He stands in the bazaar, undisguised for the time being. It is not unusual to see denizens from every plane here, but the presence of a throne archon is rare even in Celestia itself, and he expects to turn some heads. Let them see me. The light should never hide itself.

He navigates among the stalls carefully, holding his long, immaculate white cloak tightly around his platinum armor so as not to intrude overly much on the space of the smaller beings. Only his face is hidden, barely visible in the shadows of his hood. Drawing close to the Aasimar, he bends down to examine the goods. Blessed be, my brother. Is it commerce alone that brings you here?

[Eldan]

Chapter 1: The Sting

The Aasimar, rather busy staring at you in awe, stutters incoherently once or twice, before answering:
"Y-yes, my Lord. Business. I earn money this way."
Suddenly, something bumps into Sade from behind, and he feels a hand slipping into a pocket, emerging a second later with something heavy in it, her luckstone.
The hand belongs to a tiefling, dark-skinned, and with a single horn of pure white in the middle of his forehead, quickly running away through the crowd. He's running towards a small, dark alley between two brick-buildings, each several stories high, walls stained grey from sooth and green from rusting copper. Man-high curved blades, Sigil's one and only unifying architectural trait, adorn their roofs.

[Gorgondantess]

Ehem. Eldan, please go open my sheet. Then, look at the portrait. What gender do you see?
Sade sighs resignedly, closing her eyes and holding a hand forward. Even in her celestial form, she appeared to be a relatively normal human. The aasimar's wares explode into a violent burst of glass, water and mead. She then disappears into a ball of fog, after the thief with utmost speed.
Since the ritual allows me to hide my celestiality, in my ball of light form I'd like to appear as a ball of fog instead. Is that ok?

[Eldan]

That's actually not a gender fault, it's a typo: the "s" from *"she" got dropped. Note how I wrote "her" one sentence later.

And the ball of fog thing is okay.


Shooting behind the thief, the cloud of fog catches up with him mere moments after he managed to reach the entrance of the alley.
"Boys! I got this here frome some cony's pocket!", he annouces to the darkness, from which a metallic sound is audible:
It seems a total of four other tieflings, of various other shapes and colours, but all with a single white horn, are threatening a man. Even though there are four of them, all but one armed with heavy, metal-studded clubs, the last one with a rusty sword, he is holding them back, if barely: his sword glows with a golden light, and the tieflings shy back from it. Still, blood is dripping out of his chainmail suit, and the symbol on his breastplate, the light blue shield and glowing sword of the Harmonium, is smeared with red.

[Gorgondantess]

Wait, so the man they are threatening is the Harmonium? It seems like one of the tieflings is carrying the sword, but then you go on to say that it's the man...
Sade rematerializes right behind the tieflings, and she waves a hand; there is a loud crack, and the three of them are assailed by magical energy. She lets her sword speak for her, as she draws it accompanied by the unmistakeable sound of a blade. It glows with white light before her, and she advances on the men solemnly.
Quickened Sound burst, 1d8 damage, DC 25 fort save or stunned for one round.

[Vox Clamantis]

I didn't get a chance to say it, but Kalaziel also flies after the thief, and should be there to witness the goings-on.

By the Heavens! Kalaziel steps in front of the Aasimar, throwing his cloak over him to ensure that he doesn't get sprayed by the glass. Do not worry for your goods; I will arrange for your succor. Now, for the thief! Although he is wingless, Kalaziel lifts into the air with casual grace, as though borne aloft by a choir of invisible angels. He speeds after the tiefling with nothing more than a rush of wind through his cloak to indicate that he was moving at all.

--

Seeing the wounded man, he alights heavily alongside him and slaps a comforting hand on his shoulder. Be at peace, friend. Your peril has ended!

The man's wounds knit, he feels his weariness fall away, and blood ceases to leak from under his armor.

Casting Heal defensively, automatically pass the Concentration check. The man is healed for 150 hp.

[Eldan]

Sorry if my description was slightly unclear.

1. There's one guy in armor, he has a glowing sword.

2. Four tieflings are attacking him. Three are armed with clubs, one with a sword.

3. The armored man is holding the tieflings back with his glowing sword, but already bleeding.


As the discharge of magical energy hits the tieflings, two of them suddenly become stiff as logs of wood, while the other three flinch, but otherwise don't react.
Meanwhile the man, no longer wounded, steadies himself, barely looking at you, instead concentrating on his attackers.
Thank you for your help, but now, stand back!", he tells you.
"These attackers are no mere street muggers."
One of the tieflings giggles, surprisingly with a female voice, even though his shape is clearly male.
"Boys, we've been found out. Let's show our form."
Suddenly, the shapes of all five tieflings begin to blur, as if they were behind a waterfall, though just for a moment. Then, their shapes begin to distort:
The two that were stunned by Sade's blast of magical energy become blood-red and scaly, their features elongating, their faces changing into reptilian snouts. These are red abishai, the wardens and torturers of the nine hells and spawn of the Dragon Mother, Tiamat, clad in midnight-black chainmail.
The thief you chased earlier has it's facial features melt away, it's skin turning smooth and black. A longsword appears in it's hand, green steel reflecting the light of it's burning green eyes.
The next Tiefling grows a full three feet in height, skin vanishing in the bony white features of an osyluth, stinger raised threateningly.
Finally, the speaker changes her form, a raven's wings bursting out of the pearly-white skin of her shoulders. A mere moment later, the white skin is covered beneath a suit of spiked plate armour as she takes off with a jump. The erinnye draws a sword as long as a man, black as the night, covered in fiery runes that shift and dance as the sword moves.
"Retreat, Throne Archon, and take your lackeys with you. This is Dispater's business, not yours."

[Gorgondantess]

Sade chuckles once. "Your form makes no difference to me." She raises a hand, and the area around the devils explodes in white, screaming energy.
Casting righteous smite, for [roll0] damage, will save for 1/2, a second will save or blinded for [roll1] rounds (DC 27), followed by a second quickened sound burst, [roll2] damage and fort save DC 25 or stunned.

[Vox Clamantis]

Seeing his enemies for what they are, all thoughts of peaceable restraint leave Kalaziel's mind. Removing his hand from the man's shoulder, he steps forward and slowly draws his heavy sword from its sheath. The moment the blade becomes visible, it bursts into clear white flame and hums slightly at the presence of fiends. With his free hand, the archon throws back his hood. His skin is smooth, polished gold, his features are wise, stern, and perfect, and long, staight platinum locks spill out to lay across his chest and shoulders. His expression is impassive, but his voice rings with menace. Beast, I will not ask for your surrender, but I give you one chance to withdraw. This city may tolerate such filth as you, but I never will. Flee now, or be unmade!

With that last word he draws his hilt up to his lips and mutters an invocation. A magnificent chord sings in the air, and the souls of his allies are called to battle.

Casting Righteous Wrath of the Faithful.

[Kobold-Bard]

Radkiel

Anyone whos didn't know better would simply see a Pixie in yellow and green clothing, flitting between stalls mumbling to himself.

However this Pixie was in fact Radkiel in his Veiled form, and he was talking to his familiar Lawra via the Familiar Pocket spell he had cast, she was safely tucked within his illusionary robes.

He was taking care to stay clear of any of the especially dark creatures stalls, he didn't want to risk messing up so early on, he was still getting used to not having dozens of other Lanterns around him.

Suddenly there was a sound of glass breaking and shouting, and Radkiel saw his two companions rushing towards an alley.

"I wonder what's going on?" he said before darting off after them. "I hope they aren't fighting already."

Reaching the alley just as Kalaziel heals the man Radkiel panicced and retreated around the corner.

"They need your help Radkiel. This is no time for fear." The words come from his heart, Lawra's soothing (if a little stern) voice.

"But I've never seen anything like them before, what if they're too strong."

"That's the choice we made when we joined this mission, you will have to do things you don't want to. The others are scared, but they have mastered their fear, and they fight for goodness, and you must do the same, or we've come here for nothing."

"Yes, I will." And with that his veil falls away to reveal an orb of golden brilliance. "Take this!" And with his words he takes aim and fires a wave of rainbow energy at the creatures.

--------------------
Cast Prismatic Spray the enemies (all of them if I can, otherwise the 4 on the floor).
Abishai 1: [roll0] (Will DC28 or sent to another Plane)
Abishai 2: [roll1] (Will DC28 or sent to another Plane)
Thief: [roll2] (Fort DC28 or Turned to stone)
Osyluth: [roll3] (FortDC28 or die from Poison / 1d6 Con if makes Save)
(Erinnye: [roll4] (Will DC28 or Insanity))

[Eldan]

With a shriek, the Abishai are incinerated, these mere footsoldiers not able to withstand the awesome energy of the high celestials. For a moment, their blackened forms are visible against the burst of white, dissolving in an instant.
Even the skeletal osyluth seems affected, hissing angrily and covering his eyes with one arm, blinded by the blast. The one that stole from you and the Erinnye, however, seem almost unharmed by the attack.

As soon as the first wave of celestial energies is over, a second one, this time shining in all the colours of the rainbow hits the group of fiends, and this one is almost as effective as the first one: the one stealing from you is instantly turned to stone, while the black, spreading spots appear on the bone devils white skin.

The erinyes angrily swoops down upon the harmonium member they first assaulted and, with one quick strike, hacks of his hand at the wrist, including the sword he is holding. Triumphantly, and without slowing, she swoops down and grabs the weapon, while the man collapses, screaming and holding his arm. Suddenly, the shadows of the alley seem to come to life: a second figure, just like the thief you turned to stone, steps forth from them, takes the sword from the erinyes and vanishes again.

[Vox Clamantis]

Kalaziel steps in front of the wounded man and glowers darkly at the erinyes. Shifting his blade into his other hand, he aligns one gauntleted palm with the thieving fiend. His voice rings with authority and echoes around the alleyway, but the words are indistinct and impossible to understand. With a roar like a hurricane, a ball of white light gathers in his hand and then surges outward, engulfing the fiend.

That done, he turns slightly to comfort the wounded man. Do not worry, friend. I will restore your limb when the battle is won. Another archon might have questioned his priorities, but if there was one thing that Kalaziel had learned from Erathaol, it was a calm pragmatism. The man would not die before he could be healed, therefore the more immediate threat should be dealt with.

Casting Bolt of Glory (one of my favorites). Spell Compendium came out two years after BoED, so I assume the version in that book is the most up to date.

[roll0]
[roll1]

[Eldan]

The erinye screams as the light hits her, the white fire consuming her body, leaving only her suit of armor, which drops to the ground and explodes in a cloud of dust.

[Eldan]

Even though spells of location are immediately cast, there is no indication of where the sword might be. It must be far away, maybe even on another plane.

Meanwhile the Harmonium member drops to the ground. His sweaty, blonde hair sticks to his head, and his face has gone pale beneath his beard. Eyes closed, his breath is barely audible, while blood continues to flow from the stump of his hand.

[Vox Clamantis]

Kalaziel calmly steps next to him and murmurs to himself in that resonant voice, invoking the power to staunch the flow of blood. That done, he begins the longer spell that will regrow the lost limb.

Casting Heal, then sacrificing a 7th level spell (Dictum) to cast Regenerate spontaneously. It has a casting time of three rounds.

[Gorgondantess]

OhcrapsorryIthoughtIposted:smallredface:
Noting that the other is obviously attending to the man, Sade steps forwards and scans the area where the fiend disappeared to. When the man is whole, without looking up from her work she asks him "What was the importance of that sword and why would they want to steal it from you?"

[Eldan]

"It is Guardian. One of only three known True Avengers left in the multiverse. My sword."
Staring at his new wrist, the man flexes his fingers a few times.
"I was supposed to bring it to Expedition Leader Sarin before the Ascension. Who knows what those damned souls are doing with it now."
He nods at you, approvingly, then stands up straight.
"It seems I will have to hurry to retreive it before the ceremony. I thank you all for your help, and if you ever need mine in return, I will be there to assist.

[Vox Clamantis]

While the man is talking, Kalaziel brings his sword around and carefully slides it into its sheath. The light and sound die as the hilt taps against the scabbard. Perhaps our paths lie together. The Erinyes spoke in the name of the Lord of Dis. Doubtless the sword was taken to Dispater himself. If you seek the return of the blade, you will need steadfast help. He turns and beckons the lantern archon forward to join the group. Now, what use could Dispater make of that weapon?

[Gorgondantess]

Well, Eldan, you might be willing to let this thing crash and burn right out of the starting line but I'm not. Geez, do something about it man. It's your game, you should be the one taking responsibility for it, not me.:smallannoyed:
Sade glares at the man, almost snarling. "Well then, are we going to do something about it or not? Where have they taken it and how do we get there?"

[Kobold-Bard]

Radkiel

"Do we actually have to fight everyone we meet?" questioned the mote of light, hoping very much that the older beings didn't take offence. "What's going on?"