nersxe
2012-10-12, 01:07 AM
Not too long ago, I became enamored with the World's Largest Dungeon. I tried to run it with my party, but due to a laundry list of difficulties, that didn't work out well. So, instead, I figured I'd make myself a party and write up some fiction for it. Then, because of a (minor) obsession with the way MSPFA work (the artist/author gives the audience a situation, the audience suggests a course of action for one/multiple/all characters), I thought I would do it that way.
I started this on a smaller private forum, but I'm migrating it here because you guys are awesome, and I figured you would appreciate it just as much.
WLD Part I:
The room was in the near-twilight that many of the races using it preferred it. It was twice the size of a normal briefing room; the half farther from the door hosting the usual table-and-chairs setup, the nearer half hosting a curious array of storage items: a bookshelf, several armor and weapon stands, a crate, a cage of sufficient size for a single man-sized humanoid, an armoire, and a potion rack, all empty.
The sole occupant, a man of the usual size and weight, with an unusually pale skin tone, white hair, and piercing blue eyes, paced. He looked up at the door every few minutes, then ducked his head again. His armor, the light, mobile leather that his kind preferred, made not the sounds that thicker or metallic armor may have made, nor did the carefully-weighted sheath at his side tap against his thigh as so many warriors' weapons did. A person listening at the door could have heard neither his step nor his breathing, only knowing the room was occupied by the telltale lighting.
The door opened, and he turned gracefully, hands behind his back.
In strode a pair of armed and armored beings. They both wore studded leather, hers the utilitarian, bare style that so many adventurers preferred, his a more cultured armor that looked as though it could double as formalwear in more militaristic nations, both colored a deep black, his with cream-colored accents at the wrist and neck. At both of their left hips, they wore a weapon; his a morningstar with the symbol of The Fanged God, hers a plain rapier with a wrapped hilt. As one, they smiled at their host, hers a slightly predatory showing of teeth, his a more welcoming smile.
Their host held out his hand, but before he could welcome them, the man opposite him said, “I am Brother Robert, and this is my sister Sandra.”
Recognizing the ploy as one meant to catch him off-guard, their host smiled and said, “Geoffrey of Laundanin,” shaking first Robert's hand, then Sandra's. “If you'll please have a seat, our siblings should be arriving soon.”
“Why are we here?” Robert asked as he and Sandra seated themselves, taking off their backpacks to rest them at their feet.
“I prefer not to repeat myself,” Geoffrey demurred, maintaining his hospitable smile. Robert quirked an eyebrow in annoyance and reached for the knife at his belt, beginning to clean dirt from under his fingernails as if the delay didn't affect him.
Soon after Brother Robert and Sandra arrived, the door opened once more, this time to admit a tall man in scholar's robes. He carried no visible weapon, shield, or pack, only the slight bulging of his pockets suggesting he came with anything at all. “Am I late?”
“No, Brother Altamir,” Geoffrey stepped forward to offer his hand, guessing at the identity of the shaved-head monk, “you are, in fact, early.”
“Oh, excellent,” Altamir gave a relieved grin, taking Geoffrey's hand. His grip had none of the preternatural strength of their kind, but he looked far less pale than Geoffrey had come to expect from his siblings. If one could ignore the too-sharp teeth presented in his smile, Altamir could easily pass for one of the races closer to mortality.
Close on his heels came a man with a set of backward-curled horns on his head and a crossbow strapped to his back. He irritably shouldered Altamir out of the way, taking the seat farthest from Sandra and Robert and crossing his arms and legs. Geoffrey frowned. His build and facial features were enough to indicate he was one of them, but last he had heard, Niki of Highwatch (the last man on his list) had neither goat horns nor a surly disposition.
Altamir frowned after Niki, nodding to Geoffrey before taking a seat near Sandra.
As Geoffrey turned to the door, he watched it stretch, expand, and widen to accommodate the bulky figure who strode through it. The figure was easily seven feet tall, wider than two of of her smaller siblings, with an appropriately-sized suit of spiked scale mail and a spiked chain wrapped about her waist. She wore no helmet, her long white hair tumbling down across her shoulders and tangling with the rust-colored spikes.
While it had been easy for Geoffrey to find information on Altamir Dolcrindel (what little there was to the man), Brother Robert, and Sandra, Niki of Highwatch and the woman known only as The Ravager were more of a mystery. Altamir was a lay monk of a small temple devoted to The Mathemaster in Brandobia, Brother Robert and Sandra wandered Khorvaire spreading the word of their father, but all Geoffrey had been able to find about Niki was that he was a withdrawn scholar of the order of Highwatch, and of the Ravager, only her name. It had taken him the better part of a year to convince Highwatch to let Niki go, and he had stumbled upon the Ravager purely by accident.
“Since we've all arrived, I can start the briefing,” Geoffrey announced, moving to the head of the table.
The Ravager looked disdainfully down at the seats surrounding the table. “They'll expand to support you,” Geoffrey offered quickly, realizing how many human chairs she must have broken in her life. She snorted and crossed her arms, moving to stand at the table without seating herself.
“As I've told most of you, I am Geoffrey of Laundanin. Laundanin is a small section of the Guild that concerns themselves strictly with ancient mysteries. Of late, we discovered something far older than any of us had yet seen.” Geoffrey reached into his belt pouch to retrieve a rolled map, then unfurled it onto the table in front of him. “On the plane of Bolajo, we recently discovered a massive underground complex. We estimate it extends for miles, but for reasons I'll explain shortly, we haven't been able to confirm that.”
“Bah,” growled the Ravager, “what does this have to do with me? I was called in the name of our Father, and our Father has naught to do with dungeons on planes no one has heard of.”
“He does,” Geoffrey said calmly, as though the massive woman's objection were no more than the whining of a spoilt child, “surely you have heard the legend of how our Father was lain into a tomb no one but His children could hope to reach?”
She bared her teeth. She knew as well as he that the legends of their Father were whispered into all of His children's ears as they slept.
“We believe this structure is, or contains, his tomb.”
His siblings were quiet for a few moments, then the Ravager pounded her fist onto the plate of metal on her chest. “I will find the resting place of our Father and awaken Him with the blood of His enemies!”
Geoffrey nodded, humoring her. “Of course you will. All of you will.”
“How could they-” The Ravager swept her hand to indicate her smaller siblings. “-free our father? Only one respectable weapon among them, and this one-” she pointed directly to Altamir, “wears no armor nor carries a weapon!”
“Brother Altamir is a holy man, a scholar,” Geoffrey said soothingly, “Brother Robert is a priest of our Father, Niki of Highwatch is also a scholar of ancient lore-” Niki snorted and rolled his eyes, “-and Sandra has talents that will prove useful if you are to get past the traps and tricks our Father has left to deter those unworthy of calling him back.”
The Ravager made a deep rumbling noise in the back of her throat, then nodded, subsiding. “I will listen. Make it quick; I have no patience for petty details!”
As if he had never been interrupted, Geoffrey said, “when our Father walked the planes to sire His children, He left clues that would guide us to His resting place. It has taken us many years to piece these together, but all signs point toward Bolajo. There are two doors in the single chamber we have access to. We at first tried to send a scouting animal, but none have come back. The doors open into blackness, and anything that passes the doorway itself cannot be retrieved.”
“When do we leave?” Niki asked, bored.
“Tomorrow,” Geoffrey said, “after you've all had a chance to rest from your journeys. There are beds through that door-” he pointed to a door to the right of the one they entered through, “as well as a small altar to our Father.”
“One more thing. The Guild has asked that, in exchange for using this room as our base of operations, we test out a new item they have been working on. It is a small magic crystal that will allow transportation back and forth directly from the Guild to the crystal and back. They say it will require a week to recharge, but will last for twenty-four hours once activated.”
“What powers it?” Altamir asked, fascinated already.
“Spell power,” Geoffrey explained, watching as the Ravager rolled her eyes and shifted her weight. “Anyone with magical abilities can power it, whether arcane or divine. It must be in a secure, closed-off room. For some reason, if any of the doors or windows to the room are opened, it ceases to operate for another week.”
“Are we done here?” Robert asked, rising from his seat in one fluid motion, Sandra rising not a breath afterward. “Our journey was considerably longer than some of the others'.”
“We are,” Geoffrey nodded, stepping out from behind the table. “Tomorrow, I will provide the crystal and escort you to Bolajo.”
I didn't get any feedback on that one, so I just continued with Part II:
Brother Robert, follower of the Fanged God, found that he quite liked the planar city Geoffrey had invited them into.
After a messenger had brought them word that Geoffrey would be delayed until afternoon, Robert and Sandra had gone looking for their meal. The unspoken plan had been to play with their food until the time came, then slake their thirst in the throat of some poor, unsuspecting soul.
It was even easier than it had been back in the great cities of Eberron; it seemed that being in this city implied membership in the Multiversal Guild itself, and since members knew they had several methods of recourse against wrongs done them, it encouraged an amount of trust. All he and Sandra had needed to do was leave the door to their private bath open, then encourage the pretty young elf woman to stay when she walked in on them.
The resultant event had been satisfied more than one of his hungers, and Robert had walked away wondering if he had just sired one of his Father's grandchildren. That led to a brief contemplation of how many grandchildren his Father had now, and if they were anything like their sires or grandsire. He shook off the thoughts when they arrived back at the room Geoffrey had arranged for them; he would have plenty of time to address the issue of his children once his Father was returned to His full glory.
The first thing Sandra saw upon entering the room Geoffrey had invited them to was that Altamir had not left. In fact, he appeared to be in the exact same chair they had left him in, reading the same book as before, and Sandra sneered inwardly. If he hadn't left, he hadn't fed, and if he hadn't fed, he would be weak during their journey.
"Hello," Altamir greeted them without looking up from his book, turning a page.
Robert made nice, but Sandra rolled her eyes, looking into their sleeping quarters. Niki lay on his bed, seemingly asleep, as he had been when she and Robert had left. She narrowed her eyes. Their kind need only sleep a few hours a day, and even when Robert took his time consulting their Father it took him no more than just past an hour to recover his energy.
The goat horns on Niki's head from before had made her suspect his ancestry, though Robert seemed to accept that his other similarities to them made him kin. It was true that she could no more think about striking him than striking Robert (the very thought made her physically ill; an effect from their Father's mandate that His children stand as one), but there was something different about him, something wrong.
The door behind them opened, and Sandra turned to see the Ravager enter. She was closely followed by Geoffrey, whose hair and clothing were windblown.
"Are we all prepared?" He asked, face flushed with the health of recent feeding.
Sandra turned to yell for Niki, only to find him completely equipped and walking toward the door. She narrowed her eyes once more. Sandra had some of the sharpest ears known to man or beast, and somehow he had managed to move without her hearing. The more she learned of Niki of Hightower, the less she trusted him.
Niki stretched his arms over his head and scratched himself as he walked into the briefing room. He felt empty, and understood that his pact with Amon had expired over the course of the night. He would need to make another before they got into trouble, but that wouldn't take up much time, so he didn't worry about it.
Geoffrey blathered on something about the plane they were going to and how he had arranged for their transport, and gave the crystal to Altamir, explaining that it was a crystal of limited planeshift. It was shaped in that same over-complicated sigil he had seen when he had been planeshifted onto this pocket plane, the one that was all over the market stalls and corridors.
Unlike Altamir, who blushed (blushed) his way through explaining that he hadn't yet fed that day, Niki had paid a silver to a disapproving but cooperative priest of some god of healing to allow Niki to drink the small amount of blood he had required for the day. The scent of blood he picked up about his siblings told him they had as well- except for Altamir, of course.
After the Ravager (a scary woman by anyone's standards) had harrumphed her way through Geoffrey's explanation, they left the room and walked through the pocket plane.
The array of different skin colors, armours, weapons, and clothing found in the planar city wasn't particularly interesting to Niki. He hadn't seen such things during his time in Hightower, true, but they held no appeal for him all the same. The extraplanar beings he had seen and bargained with far surpassed a minotaur with an axe as big as Niki was, or a succubus sashaying her way into a bar.
The portal they arrived at, that caught his interest. The portalmaster, a plain man whose only distinctive trait was his thick accent, touched a set of runes on the wall, and Geoffrey ushered them through before Niki could study it more.
Heaving a sigh, he walked through.
The trip through the portal was too loud, too bright, and made her think too hard, so the Ravager ignored it.
The wizard who was to transport them to the resting place of their Father was a small, cowardly man who needed not even her imposing bulk to make him into a twitching mess, so the Ravager ignored him.
The woman who met them there had nothing useful to say and smelled as though her blood would not be nourishing, so the Ravager ignored her.
The walk through the caverns had no fighting, no useful explanations, and contained nothing but damp rock, so the Ravager daydreamed of blood and conquest, and ignored the journey.
Then they arrived at the first chamber, and she unsheathed her weapon and chuckled. The time for blood was at hand.
"We're here."
Geoffrey's voice cut into a rather fascinating discussion Altamir was having with Geoffrey's attache (a somewhat-plain woman called Katie something-or-other) about Cyrrian wine. He himself had never been to Eberron, but according to Katie, Cyrrian wine could not be bested throughout the planes.
He refocused to realize that yes, the caverns had given way to a rather spacious chamber made of worked stone and lit only by scattered torches. At either end of the chamber (which measured roughly seventy-five feet by seventy-five feet by his rough judgement) was a doorway that led into pure darkness.
"Take this, Altamir," Geoffrey held out a vial containing a crimson liquid Altamir could only assume contained blood. His mouth watered at the sight, and he held out his hand to accept the gift before he could consider whether or not he wanted to. "If you cannot find another meal before the time comes tomorrow, drink it. Elsewise, it will keep for one week before spoiling."
Geoffrey turned to regard all of them, his assistant standing just before him. "Once you pass these doors, I don't know what you'll find. Godspeed, siblings, and may you find what we all search for."
He turned on his heel, beckoning Katie to follow him. The lanky woman nodded to Altamir before following Geoffrey out.
The five turned to regard the two doors.
Feedback I got on Part II:
(the ">" means "command"; it tells the character in question [or scene in general] to do something.)
>Altamir: Attempt to discuss strategy and logistics.
>Ravager: Walk off.
Part III:
The Ravager gave the silence no time to stretch, walking toward the door to their left with purpose. Niki stepped forward, kneeling on the floor and pulling a piece of chalk from a belt pouch. Sandra watched him suspiciously, narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms over her chest. Brother Robert mirrored her movement, watching the Ravager inspect the seemingly solid wall of darkness just beyond the doorframe.
"Um," Altamir managed, clearing his throat. "I... I had a thought."
Only Robert seemed to notice or care, The Ravager staring into the door to their left, Niki continuing to draw a sigil onto the floor, Sandra watching him. Robert raised an eyebrow imperiously, and Altamir forced himself to continue.
"I... do not know our capabilities. I myself am a scholar, possessed of knowledge of many dark creatures' weaknesses and habits-"
The Ravager snorted and fished a silver from a side pocket of her backpack, throwing it into the doorway. It disappeared the second it crossed the threshold, and in the few seconds it took for Altamir to regain his composure, no sound of it hitting the ground could be heard.
"I know you, Brother Robert, are a priest of our Father," Altamir met Robert's eyes, one hand brushing the prayer books in his pocket to calm himself. "And... um... Ravager, I believe your talents speak for themselves."
She spared a look to glance over her shoulder, bouncing the masterfully crafted spiked chain in her hand and baring her teeth. "They do."
"But I must admit, I do not understand why we would need two scholars, nor what 'talents' you possess, sister." Altamir swallowed, suddenly very aware of a bead of sweat rolling down the side of his neck.
"You talk too much," The Ravager snorted dismissively, "let us move forward, to glory."
"A moment, sister," Niki spoke up, finishing the chalk symbol he had been drawing on the stone.
He stood, placing the chalk back into his pouch, and closed his eyes. Niki took a deep breath, and screamed, in a voice that pierced his siblings' beings to the core, "Amon, Void Before The Altar! Answer my call, if you wish to taste the forbidden fruit once more!"
The air above the seal exploded in a ball of black smoke. Altamir, Robert, and Sandra took a step backward, eyes fixed on the ball. Robert and Sandra's hands went to their weapons, while The Ravager charged forward, chain already spinning in her hands.
A ram-headed, serpent-tailed wolf, black as night, emerged from the smoke, teeth snapping mere inches in front of Niki's face. "Blasphemer! Son of a pig and a dog! You dare call upon Amon, He Who Defied The Long Sleep? Speak now, lest I cast you down!"
"I do so dare," Niki said cooly, bored already with Amon's antics. The Ravager's chain whipped through the figment's head, emerging on one side only to come back to her without seeming to make contact. "If you continue to act as a spoiled child, forgetting that I am the only person in hundreds of years to call upon you, I will banish you and call upon Leraje. Her tongue is less sharp, and her demands easily met."
"Speak not her name!" Amon growled, crouching threateningly. "I will have not that cowardly slut infesting my chosen!"
Niki raised an eyebrow. The Ravager grumbled, realizing at the same time as her siblings that whatever Niki was speaking with, it was illusory.
Amon paced for a few seconds, then snapped his head toward Niki. "Why have you left Hightower? Did they yet realize your heritage, and cast you forth?"
"My reasons are my own, Amon. Will you calm yourself long enough to be of use, or will I be calling on L-"
"Silence!" Amon snapped his teeth again, stamping a paw. "I will assist you for now, Niki of Highwatch, bane of the heavens, but only because your insolence pleases me."
"It always does." Niki fell to a knee, eyes still on Amon. "Come, let us bask in the scent of our enemies' roasted flesh."
Amon roared, then dissolved as quickly as he had appeared, the nebulous smoke drifting out of the seal to surround Niki completely. When it dissipated, Niki's eyes glowed forge-bright for a few seconds, then he stood, exhaling harshly. His breath came with the slightest hint of fire, smoke curling around his teeth only to drift upward and sink into the ram horns that grew from his scalp in a matter of seconds.
Altamir's jaw was hanging open, Sandra was glaring fit to make a lesser man cry, The Ravager looked disgruntled, and Brother Robert had a thoughtful expression. The silence lasted a few moments, while Niki unslung his crossbow from his back, loaded it, and then demanded, "well? Shall we move forward, or continue to stare?"
"Are you prepared?" The Ravager tapped one of the ends of her chain against her hand. Niki nodded, and she turned once more toward the door. "Then we leave."
"Wh-what was that?" Altamir stammered, reflexively tracing the Mathemaster's sign on the front of his robes. "That was no summoning spell I've read of!"
Niki snorted. "It wasn't a summoning, fool, it was pact magic. Clearly there are things enough in this world beyond your reading to warrant another scholar."
Robert chuckled behind them, and they stepped through the door.
The chamber beyond was larger than the one they left, extending only 35' in front of them, but extending past the edge of their vision to the right. There were two doors that they could see, one directly in front of them, and one thirty feet to the right of that. The wall was to their immediate left, the ceiling ten feet above them, and the stone was unmarked and smooth as far as their eyes could see.
The Ravager looked the room over, once, before striding forward to the first door with the clear intent of throwing it open. A cough, faint but audible, froze her in her tracks. It was followed by a few more, each sounding as though the afflicted was attempting to stifle the cough and failing.
The five turned toward the noise, listening intently.
Character sheets:
Brother Robert (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=449063)
Sandra (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=450883)
Altamir (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=449039)
Niki (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=449431)
The Ravager (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=450890)
Feel free to suggest commands, or comment, or ask questions. These characters aren't entirely optimized or 100% RAW; they've been given a few minor DM taps to make them more interesting characters, as opposed to killing machines.
I started this on a smaller private forum, but I'm migrating it here because you guys are awesome, and I figured you would appreciate it just as much.
WLD Part I:
The room was in the near-twilight that many of the races using it preferred it. It was twice the size of a normal briefing room; the half farther from the door hosting the usual table-and-chairs setup, the nearer half hosting a curious array of storage items: a bookshelf, several armor and weapon stands, a crate, a cage of sufficient size for a single man-sized humanoid, an armoire, and a potion rack, all empty.
The sole occupant, a man of the usual size and weight, with an unusually pale skin tone, white hair, and piercing blue eyes, paced. He looked up at the door every few minutes, then ducked his head again. His armor, the light, mobile leather that his kind preferred, made not the sounds that thicker or metallic armor may have made, nor did the carefully-weighted sheath at his side tap against his thigh as so many warriors' weapons did. A person listening at the door could have heard neither his step nor his breathing, only knowing the room was occupied by the telltale lighting.
The door opened, and he turned gracefully, hands behind his back.
In strode a pair of armed and armored beings. They both wore studded leather, hers the utilitarian, bare style that so many adventurers preferred, his a more cultured armor that looked as though it could double as formalwear in more militaristic nations, both colored a deep black, his with cream-colored accents at the wrist and neck. At both of their left hips, they wore a weapon; his a morningstar with the symbol of The Fanged God, hers a plain rapier with a wrapped hilt. As one, they smiled at their host, hers a slightly predatory showing of teeth, his a more welcoming smile.
Their host held out his hand, but before he could welcome them, the man opposite him said, “I am Brother Robert, and this is my sister Sandra.”
Recognizing the ploy as one meant to catch him off-guard, their host smiled and said, “Geoffrey of Laundanin,” shaking first Robert's hand, then Sandra's. “If you'll please have a seat, our siblings should be arriving soon.”
“Why are we here?” Robert asked as he and Sandra seated themselves, taking off their backpacks to rest them at their feet.
“I prefer not to repeat myself,” Geoffrey demurred, maintaining his hospitable smile. Robert quirked an eyebrow in annoyance and reached for the knife at his belt, beginning to clean dirt from under his fingernails as if the delay didn't affect him.
Soon after Brother Robert and Sandra arrived, the door opened once more, this time to admit a tall man in scholar's robes. He carried no visible weapon, shield, or pack, only the slight bulging of his pockets suggesting he came with anything at all. “Am I late?”
“No, Brother Altamir,” Geoffrey stepped forward to offer his hand, guessing at the identity of the shaved-head monk, “you are, in fact, early.”
“Oh, excellent,” Altamir gave a relieved grin, taking Geoffrey's hand. His grip had none of the preternatural strength of their kind, but he looked far less pale than Geoffrey had come to expect from his siblings. If one could ignore the too-sharp teeth presented in his smile, Altamir could easily pass for one of the races closer to mortality.
Close on his heels came a man with a set of backward-curled horns on his head and a crossbow strapped to his back. He irritably shouldered Altamir out of the way, taking the seat farthest from Sandra and Robert and crossing his arms and legs. Geoffrey frowned. His build and facial features were enough to indicate he was one of them, but last he had heard, Niki of Highwatch (the last man on his list) had neither goat horns nor a surly disposition.
Altamir frowned after Niki, nodding to Geoffrey before taking a seat near Sandra.
As Geoffrey turned to the door, he watched it stretch, expand, and widen to accommodate the bulky figure who strode through it. The figure was easily seven feet tall, wider than two of of her smaller siblings, with an appropriately-sized suit of spiked scale mail and a spiked chain wrapped about her waist. She wore no helmet, her long white hair tumbling down across her shoulders and tangling with the rust-colored spikes.
While it had been easy for Geoffrey to find information on Altamir Dolcrindel (what little there was to the man), Brother Robert, and Sandra, Niki of Highwatch and the woman known only as The Ravager were more of a mystery. Altamir was a lay monk of a small temple devoted to The Mathemaster in Brandobia, Brother Robert and Sandra wandered Khorvaire spreading the word of their father, but all Geoffrey had been able to find about Niki was that he was a withdrawn scholar of the order of Highwatch, and of the Ravager, only her name. It had taken him the better part of a year to convince Highwatch to let Niki go, and he had stumbled upon the Ravager purely by accident.
“Since we've all arrived, I can start the briefing,” Geoffrey announced, moving to the head of the table.
The Ravager looked disdainfully down at the seats surrounding the table. “They'll expand to support you,” Geoffrey offered quickly, realizing how many human chairs she must have broken in her life. She snorted and crossed her arms, moving to stand at the table without seating herself.
“As I've told most of you, I am Geoffrey of Laundanin. Laundanin is a small section of the Guild that concerns themselves strictly with ancient mysteries. Of late, we discovered something far older than any of us had yet seen.” Geoffrey reached into his belt pouch to retrieve a rolled map, then unfurled it onto the table in front of him. “On the plane of Bolajo, we recently discovered a massive underground complex. We estimate it extends for miles, but for reasons I'll explain shortly, we haven't been able to confirm that.”
“Bah,” growled the Ravager, “what does this have to do with me? I was called in the name of our Father, and our Father has naught to do with dungeons on planes no one has heard of.”
“He does,” Geoffrey said calmly, as though the massive woman's objection were no more than the whining of a spoilt child, “surely you have heard the legend of how our Father was lain into a tomb no one but His children could hope to reach?”
She bared her teeth. She knew as well as he that the legends of their Father were whispered into all of His children's ears as they slept.
“We believe this structure is, or contains, his tomb.”
His siblings were quiet for a few moments, then the Ravager pounded her fist onto the plate of metal on her chest. “I will find the resting place of our Father and awaken Him with the blood of His enemies!”
Geoffrey nodded, humoring her. “Of course you will. All of you will.”
“How could they-” The Ravager swept her hand to indicate her smaller siblings. “-free our father? Only one respectable weapon among them, and this one-” she pointed directly to Altamir, “wears no armor nor carries a weapon!”
“Brother Altamir is a holy man, a scholar,” Geoffrey said soothingly, “Brother Robert is a priest of our Father, Niki of Highwatch is also a scholar of ancient lore-” Niki snorted and rolled his eyes, “-and Sandra has talents that will prove useful if you are to get past the traps and tricks our Father has left to deter those unworthy of calling him back.”
The Ravager made a deep rumbling noise in the back of her throat, then nodded, subsiding. “I will listen. Make it quick; I have no patience for petty details!”
As if he had never been interrupted, Geoffrey said, “when our Father walked the planes to sire His children, He left clues that would guide us to His resting place. It has taken us many years to piece these together, but all signs point toward Bolajo. There are two doors in the single chamber we have access to. We at first tried to send a scouting animal, but none have come back. The doors open into blackness, and anything that passes the doorway itself cannot be retrieved.”
“When do we leave?” Niki asked, bored.
“Tomorrow,” Geoffrey said, “after you've all had a chance to rest from your journeys. There are beds through that door-” he pointed to a door to the right of the one they entered through, “as well as a small altar to our Father.”
“One more thing. The Guild has asked that, in exchange for using this room as our base of operations, we test out a new item they have been working on. It is a small magic crystal that will allow transportation back and forth directly from the Guild to the crystal and back. They say it will require a week to recharge, but will last for twenty-four hours once activated.”
“What powers it?” Altamir asked, fascinated already.
“Spell power,” Geoffrey explained, watching as the Ravager rolled her eyes and shifted her weight. “Anyone with magical abilities can power it, whether arcane or divine. It must be in a secure, closed-off room. For some reason, if any of the doors or windows to the room are opened, it ceases to operate for another week.”
“Are we done here?” Robert asked, rising from his seat in one fluid motion, Sandra rising not a breath afterward. “Our journey was considerably longer than some of the others'.”
“We are,” Geoffrey nodded, stepping out from behind the table. “Tomorrow, I will provide the crystal and escort you to Bolajo.”
I didn't get any feedback on that one, so I just continued with Part II:
Brother Robert, follower of the Fanged God, found that he quite liked the planar city Geoffrey had invited them into.
After a messenger had brought them word that Geoffrey would be delayed until afternoon, Robert and Sandra had gone looking for their meal. The unspoken plan had been to play with their food until the time came, then slake their thirst in the throat of some poor, unsuspecting soul.
It was even easier than it had been back in the great cities of Eberron; it seemed that being in this city implied membership in the Multiversal Guild itself, and since members knew they had several methods of recourse against wrongs done them, it encouraged an amount of trust. All he and Sandra had needed to do was leave the door to their private bath open, then encourage the pretty young elf woman to stay when she walked in on them.
The resultant event had been satisfied more than one of his hungers, and Robert had walked away wondering if he had just sired one of his Father's grandchildren. That led to a brief contemplation of how many grandchildren his Father had now, and if they were anything like their sires or grandsire. He shook off the thoughts when they arrived back at the room Geoffrey had arranged for them; he would have plenty of time to address the issue of his children once his Father was returned to His full glory.
The first thing Sandra saw upon entering the room Geoffrey had invited them to was that Altamir had not left. In fact, he appeared to be in the exact same chair they had left him in, reading the same book as before, and Sandra sneered inwardly. If he hadn't left, he hadn't fed, and if he hadn't fed, he would be weak during their journey.
"Hello," Altamir greeted them without looking up from his book, turning a page.
Robert made nice, but Sandra rolled her eyes, looking into their sleeping quarters. Niki lay on his bed, seemingly asleep, as he had been when she and Robert had left. She narrowed her eyes. Their kind need only sleep a few hours a day, and even when Robert took his time consulting their Father it took him no more than just past an hour to recover his energy.
The goat horns on Niki's head from before had made her suspect his ancestry, though Robert seemed to accept that his other similarities to them made him kin. It was true that she could no more think about striking him than striking Robert (the very thought made her physically ill; an effect from their Father's mandate that His children stand as one), but there was something different about him, something wrong.
The door behind them opened, and Sandra turned to see the Ravager enter. She was closely followed by Geoffrey, whose hair and clothing were windblown.
"Are we all prepared?" He asked, face flushed with the health of recent feeding.
Sandra turned to yell for Niki, only to find him completely equipped and walking toward the door. She narrowed her eyes once more. Sandra had some of the sharpest ears known to man or beast, and somehow he had managed to move without her hearing. The more she learned of Niki of Hightower, the less she trusted him.
Niki stretched his arms over his head and scratched himself as he walked into the briefing room. He felt empty, and understood that his pact with Amon had expired over the course of the night. He would need to make another before they got into trouble, but that wouldn't take up much time, so he didn't worry about it.
Geoffrey blathered on something about the plane they were going to and how he had arranged for their transport, and gave the crystal to Altamir, explaining that it was a crystal of limited planeshift. It was shaped in that same over-complicated sigil he had seen when he had been planeshifted onto this pocket plane, the one that was all over the market stalls and corridors.
Unlike Altamir, who blushed (blushed) his way through explaining that he hadn't yet fed that day, Niki had paid a silver to a disapproving but cooperative priest of some god of healing to allow Niki to drink the small amount of blood he had required for the day. The scent of blood he picked up about his siblings told him they had as well- except for Altamir, of course.
After the Ravager (a scary woman by anyone's standards) had harrumphed her way through Geoffrey's explanation, they left the room and walked through the pocket plane.
The array of different skin colors, armours, weapons, and clothing found in the planar city wasn't particularly interesting to Niki. He hadn't seen such things during his time in Hightower, true, but they held no appeal for him all the same. The extraplanar beings he had seen and bargained with far surpassed a minotaur with an axe as big as Niki was, or a succubus sashaying her way into a bar.
The portal they arrived at, that caught his interest. The portalmaster, a plain man whose only distinctive trait was his thick accent, touched a set of runes on the wall, and Geoffrey ushered them through before Niki could study it more.
Heaving a sigh, he walked through.
The trip through the portal was too loud, too bright, and made her think too hard, so the Ravager ignored it.
The wizard who was to transport them to the resting place of their Father was a small, cowardly man who needed not even her imposing bulk to make him into a twitching mess, so the Ravager ignored him.
The woman who met them there had nothing useful to say and smelled as though her blood would not be nourishing, so the Ravager ignored her.
The walk through the caverns had no fighting, no useful explanations, and contained nothing but damp rock, so the Ravager daydreamed of blood and conquest, and ignored the journey.
Then they arrived at the first chamber, and she unsheathed her weapon and chuckled. The time for blood was at hand.
"We're here."
Geoffrey's voice cut into a rather fascinating discussion Altamir was having with Geoffrey's attache (a somewhat-plain woman called Katie something-or-other) about Cyrrian wine. He himself had never been to Eberron, but according to Katie, Cyrrian wine could not be bested throughout the planes.
He refocused to realize that yes, the caverns had given way to a rather spacious chamber made of worked stone and lit only by scattered torches. At either end of the chamber (which measured roughly seventy-five feet by seventy-five feet by his rough judgement) was a doorway that led into pure darkness.
"Take this, Altamir," Geoffrey held out a vial containing a crimson liquid Altamir could only assume contained blood. His mouth watered at the sight, and he held out his hand to accept the gift before he could consider whether or not he wanted to. "If you cannot find another meal before the time comes tomorrow, drink it. Elsewise, it will keep for one week before spoiling."
Geoffrey turned to regard all of them, his assistant standing just before him. "Once you pass these doors, I don't know what you'll find. Godspeed, siblings, and may you find what we all search for."
He turned on his heel, beckoning Katie to follow him. The lanky woman nodded to Altamir before following Geoffrey out.
The five turned to regard the two doors.
Feedback I got on Part II:
(the ">" means "command"; it tells the character in question [or scene in general] to do something.)
>Altamir: Attempt to discuss strategy and logistics.
>Ravager: Walk off.
Part III:
The Ravager gave the silence no time to stretch, walking toward the door to their left with purpose. Niki stepped forward, kneeling on the floor and pulling a piece of chalk from a belt pouch. Sandra watched him suspiciously, narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms over her chest. Brother Robert mirrored her movement, watching the Ravager inspect the seemingly solid wall of darkness just beyond the doorframe.
"Um," Altamir managed, clearing his throat. "I... I had a thought."
Only Robert seemed to notice or care, The Ravager staring into the door to their left, Niki continuing to draw a sigil onto the floor, Sandra watching him. Robert raised an eyebrow imperiously, and Altamir forced himself to continue.
"I... do not know our capabilities. I myself am a scholar, possessed of knowledge of many dark creatures' weaknesses and habits-"
The Ravager snorted and fished a silver from a side pocket of her backpack, throwing it into the doorway. It disappeared the second it crossed the threshold, and in the few seconds it took for Altamir to regain his composure, no sound of it hitting the ground could be heard.
"I know you, Brother Robert, are a priest of our Father," Altamir met Robert's eyes, one hand brushing the prayer books in his pocket to calm himself. "And... um... Ravager, I believe your talents speak for themselves."
She spared a look to glance over her shoulder, bouncing the masterfully crafted spiked chain in her hand and baring her teeth. "They do."
"But I must admit, I do not understand why we would need two scholars, nor what 'talents' you possess, sister." Altamir swallowed, suddenly very aware of a bead of sweat rolling down the side of his neck.
"You talk too much," The Ravager snorted dismissively, "let us move forward, to glory."
"A moment, sister," Niki spoke up, finishing the chalk symbol he had been drawing on the stone.
He stood, placing the chalk back into his pouch, and closed his eyes. Niki took a deep breath, and screamed, in a voice that pierced his siblings' beings to the core, "Amon, Void Before The Altar! Answer my call, if you wish to taste the forbidden fruit once more!"
The air above the seal exploded in a ball of black smoke. Altamir, Robert, and Sandra took a step backward, eyes fixed on the ball. Robert and Sandra's hands went to their weapons, while The Ravager charged forward, chain already spinning in her hands.
A ram-headed, serpent-tailed wolf, black as night, emerged from the smoke, teeth snapping mere inches in front of Niki's face. "Blasphemer! Son of a pig and a dog! You dare call upon Amon, He Who Defied The Long Sleep? Speak now, lest I cast you down!"
"I do so dare," Niki said cooly, bored already with Amon's antics. The Ravager's chain whipped through the figment's head, emerging on one side only to come back to her without seeming to make contact. "If you continue to act as a spoiled child, forgetting that I am the only person in hundreds of years to call upon you, I will banish you and call upon Leraje. Her tongue is less sharp, and her demands easily met."
"Speak not her name!" Amon growled, crouching threateningly. "I will have not that cowardly slut infesting my chosen!"
Niki raised an eyebrow. The Ravager grumbled, realizing at the same time as her siblings that whatever Niki was speaking with, it was illusory.
Amon paced for a few seconds, then snapped his head toward Niki. "Why have you left Hightower? Did they yet realize your heritage, and cast you forth?"
"My reasons are my own, Amon. Will you calm yourself long enough to be of use, or will I be calling on L-"
"Silence!" Amon snapped his teeth again, stamping a paw. "I will assist you for now, Niki of Highwatch, bane of the heavens, but only because your insolence pleases me."
"It always does." Niki fell to a knee, eyes still on Amon. "Come, let us bask in the scent of our enemies' roasted flesh."
Amon roared, then dissolved as quickly as he had appeared, the nebulous smoke drifting out of the seal to surround Niki completely. When it dissipated, Niki's eyes glowed forge-bright for a few seconds, then he stood, exhaling harshly. His breath came with the slightest hint of fire, smoke curling around his teeth only to drift upward and sink into the ram horns that grew from his scalp in a matter of seconds.
Altamir's jaw was hanging open, Sandra was glaring fit to make a lesser man cry, The Ravager looked disgruntled, and Brother Robert had a thoughtful expression. The silence lasted a few moments, while Niki unslung his crossbow from his back, loaded it, and then demanded, "well? Shall we move forward, or continue to stare?"
"Are you prepared?" The Ravager tapped one of the ends of her chain against her hand. Niki nodded, and she turned once more toward the door. "Then we leave."
"Wh-what was that?" Altamir stammered, reflexively tracing the Mathemaster's sign on the front of his robes. "That was no summoning spell I've read of!"
Niki snorted. "It wasn't a summoning, fool, it was pact magic. Clearly there are things enough in this world beyond your reading to warrant another scholar."
Robert chuckled behind them, and they stepped through the door.
The chamber beyond was larger than the one they left, extending only 35' in front of them, but extending past the edge of their vision to the right. There were two doors that they could see, one directly in front of them, and one thirty feet to the right of that. The wall was to their immediate left, the ceiling ten feet above them, and the stone was unmarked and smooth as far as their eyes could see.
The Ravager looked the room over, once, before striding forward to the first door with the clear intent of throwing it open. A cough, faint but audible, froze her in her tracks. It was followed by a few more, each sounding as though the afflicted was attempting to stifle the cough and failing.
The five turned toward the noise, listening intently.
Character sheets:
Brother Robert (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=449063)
Sandra (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=450883)
Altamir (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=449039)
Niki (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=449431)
The Ravager (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=450890)
Feel free to suggest commands, or comment, or ask questions. These characters aren't entirely optimized or 100% RAW; they've been given a few minor DM taps to make them more interesting characters, as opposed to killing machines.