Dramatis Personae
Beltin (Aasimar Dirge Bard/Cleric 10).
Bradley Weatherby (Human Dervish Dancer 10/Knife Master Rogue 7/Duelist 3).
"Jake" aka Alex, the actual character name but I refuse to go back and edit the old entries (Human Wizard/Rogue 10).
Dorf Fortress IV - The Inevitable Conclusion, Session 14 - 9/19/14
The undead battle continues with the promise of shit getting unbelievably real.
Day 20, night
The lich hovers in the sky above the battlefield with his posse of two vampires and two crucifixion spirits. The vampire sorceress that dueled Jake is clearly agitated as she attempts to have a hurried conversation with the lich, but the other vampire and the spirits do not join in; the vampire is still perhaps dazed by the sudden reversal of his awesome tank driving fortunes and the spirits have no free will of their own.
The lich continues to stare down at the remains of his undead legion and at the swirling darkness further out that promises fresh reinforcements. He is thoughtful and remains silent, much to the chagrin of the sorceress who is waiting with much anticipation to know what the hell they are going to do now. And then he looks her in the face and seems to say something.
Whatever it was, she it was not what she wanted. Desperately she tries to flee the lich's side, but it is already too late. The gem set in one of his eye sockets flares into life, shedding a red glare over the battlefield. As it does, more swirling darkness arises around the head of his scepter and tendrils erupt from it and impale the vampires and crucifixion spirits. The spirits accept what is happening and the dazed vampire is still too dazed to react quick enough to what is happening, and those three seem to break apart as they near the scepter, and the sky is awash in a cloud of negative energy.
The sorceress tries to fight what is happening to her, to claw at the lich as she is pulled close by the tendril, but the lich is supremely unconcerned with both her attempts at violence and her desperate struggles to stay "alive." She too breaks down into nothing and her power joins the cloud of energy surrounding the lich.
As that petty drama unfolds in the sky, the coalescing darkness at the edges of the battlefield takes on a new form and flows across the ground and blazes red. From the sky the new shape is clear; it is in the form of a gigantic seal, formed with geometric runes of unknown arcane power. And then tendrils again erupt, but this time from the seal. The remaining undead, the bodies of all the fallen on the field and the freshly buried dwarves, and even the ancient bones from the battle of Tsar are all pulled together into a colossal swirling mass of carrion. The waves of bodies into the formless pile ceases and the area within the seal is undeniably blighted, the ground terraformed into a sheet of black volcanic glass.
Above, the lich moves until he hangs over the mass, visible to all even through the storm of negative energy around him. His eye and the seal send blinding crimson light into the darkness of the Desolation, but suddenly whatever force was holding him suspended in the air ceases and he falls into the shivering mound of corpses. As he is swallowed by it, the glowing seal suddenly goes out and the battlefield is again covered in darkness.
While that un-skippable cutscene was playing out, the party had about two rounds to prepare. Buffs are cast and Beltin commands his undead down to the wriggling pile of bodies. The corpses flow around the outside of the blob, but nothing else happens. And then Beltin commands his undead to attack.
As it is attacked, the pile suddenly begins to take the shape of a massive humanoid figure, but with great difficulty. Two massive arms made of untold dead try to push the mass up from the ground and two tendrils of corpses, nearly 40 feet long, begin to whip around into air. The mound is forming into a (nerf'd) Charnel Colossus! Initiative!
The assembled undead fight the wave of bodies and deal significant damage. Jake Damnation Strides around the mass, slashing as he goes. And then the mass strikes back! One massive arm slams down on both Jake and BW, but their magical defenses hold, Jake with his Mirror Images and BW with his 50% miss chance from Blink! From the mass a face suddenly seem to become clear and it stares into Jake's face with no effect due to a successful fort save. Undeterred, another face becomes clear in the pile and screams out a word of arcane power in a long dead language! BW and Jake roll saves versus Horrid Wilting, and to the DM's disappointment, both make it and the damage roll is sub-par anyway. Meh. And then BW counter attacks!... and fails. Low rolls plus his only hitting attack being countered by his own Blink makes him sad.
Beltin's undead menagerie hits again and the wave of bodies threatening to smash them suddenly withdraw and the mass pulls back into itself. A wave of negative energy ripples through it from within and suddenly it explodes upward into the fully formed shape of a by-the-book, (mostly) un-nerf'd Charnel Colossus. Shit just got real.
6 slams from the colossus obliterates Beltin's new pet t-rex skeleton and several of his other most power undead. Another face stares into Jake's eyes with such hatred that he goes blind, after failing a fort save of course. A lash of bodies slams into BW and his Blink does not protect him. One failed fort save later and he is cursed to have no actions 50% of the time.
Jake blasts a bolt of lightning at his now unseen attacker but the mass seems to open up around the bolt, giving it a clear line through, but now without taking some damage. BW considers acting on his turn, but his percentile dice decide that is not needed and so he does nothing. Beltin's undead continue to smash into the colossus with their diminished numbers and their damage is still significant. The colossus again focuses his energy on destroying the hated, diminished, but still much to effective undead menagerie. Pop, pop, pop, go the undead, but still the two weakest undead remain, and on their turn it is clear they are enough to seal the deal.
They again beat back the tide of rolling bodies, but this time instead of coming together to reform for a new attack, the necromantic glue, the negative energy ectoplasm holding the mass together begins to come undone. The massive humanoid figure of corpses begins to collapse and as it goes it lets out a scream with a thousand voices, the being of ever creature in its makeup, and the sound tears into the minds of the party. BW and Beltin are able hold back the overwhelming tide of thoughts and memories that aren't their own, but Jake is momentarily lost in the shock, unsure of which voice in the cacophony of gibbering voices in his head is actually his own.
In the giant pile of now still corpses there is movement. The lich pushes corpses off of himself and stands a top the mound. The red eye still glows, though much more dimly. Though undead do not tire, he looks about as exhausted as any man the party has ever met as he straightens himself. Yet he still holds the scepter and the gem still glows with its own kind of vitality. The party realizes that an end like this must have been what King Kroma has been waiting for in all his forced years of years to Orcus, yet his indoctrination and perhaps his pride wouldn't let him just roll over and die. He won't flee, but he will not hold back. It's not over yet.
Beltin sends his two remaining undead beasts to engage the King Kroma, who then effortlessly assumes control of them and commands them to stand down. Jake and BW, still blinded and cursed respectively, advance on him as best they can, and he is ready, though clearly weakened. The fight takes place almost in slow motion, with each combatant fundamentally wounded in some way besides Beltin, whose spells against the lich are effortlessly resisted. Finally BW is able to seize an opportunity to end it. He slashes deeply in an opening in the lich's armor, breaking both bones and the magic holding them together in place of muscle, and then swings his kukri up and stabs up from under King Kroma's jaw and into his skull.
With something akin to a sigh of relief the creature falls to a knee and then rolls over onto his back. His bones turn to dust before the party's eyes (though Jake doesn't see it), and then he is gone. All that remains are his treasures, a scepter, a gem, a suit of armor, and a crown.
While the battle was happening, the dwarves inside had been rallying and preparing to join the fray. Now they arrive in time to see their long dead king released from his torment, and they begin to muster as much of a cheer as they can after all that has happened, but Beltin tells them to stay back because the danger may not yet be over. Really it's a bluff check, because hey, loot.
Beltin immediately claims the scepter the lich held; it is obviously a tool of a master necromancer, though it will take time to unravel its mysteries (See the notes section). BW picks up the crown, a masterpiece of stone craftsman ship in laid with immensely valuable gems and metals. It is a crown worthy of the mightiest and wisest of dwarven kings. He places it upon his own head without a second thought and turns to look toward the dwarves. Out of game, the crown functions as a Staff of Revelations, except it must be worn for one hour before use and it automatically restores a charge if unused for a week.
He ignores the armor and picks up the gem, but is immediately scalded by the negative energy within it. Also without hesitation, as he correctly assumes this is a phylactery, he pulls out an alchemical explosive and throws both it and the slightly glowing gem away from him. The explosive goes off, but the gem is completely unharmed. Jake stands around being blind while this happens.
Beltin scolds BW and suggests they actually, you know, try to make a knowledge roll or something. He uses an ability to be unharmed by negative energy and picks it up to examine it more closely. It is clearly a Gem of Trueseeing, but with many runic symbols of power carved into it, and around the symbols in both Necril and Abyssal, are prayers to Orcus. It is clearly a phylactery. They decide to wait an hour for the bloody skeletons to revive themselves and then have Gurg break it.
To pass the time and to know what they have before speaking to the dwarves, Beltin and BW investigate the last piece of treasure, the armor. They realize why this is considered a relic for the Shalemace clan; it is fullplate with both the properties of mithril and adamantite and is magically enchanted to resist even the hottest flames (Greater Energy Resist Fire). Such construction was only ever known by the greatest of dwarven grandmaster smiths and that knowledge has since been lost. The party gets the feeling the dwarves are going to want this and the crown back.
Speaking of which, a dwarf again approaches now that it seems the danger truly has past. His name is Corin Shalemace and he was the man who got his soul crucified trying to rally the dwarves after the fall of Fenris and Gorrak. He looks lessened and wounded by his ordeal, but seems to be the defacto leader of the dwarves now both for his bravery and blood right. He hails the party and begins to announce how they are forever grateful for their aid in laying their wayward ancestor to rest and that once the ancient clan relics are returned to their clan all will again be well and the party will forever be revered friends of the Shalemace clan.
BW interrupts. Yeah, that's not going to happen, he says as he wears the dwarven crown. The thing is that they did all the work and the dwarves would be dead without them. He thinks they will hold onto these items and they can just be grateful for the whole lich destruction and curse lifting thing. Corin seems shocked for a second. He feels utterly betrayed, as do the dwarves, all of whom can hear this. They thought the party were heroes. They were wrong, they now realize.
So, continues BW, he sees it like this. They can be happy with what they got and go home relic-less, or they can all die by the party's hands. He says this knowing full well they are badly wounded, but he knows the party could probably still take all the dwarves. The dwarves know it too. Corin gives BW a look of utter contempt and the dwarves march back into the fort without a word. The party went from exalted to hated with the Shalemace clan!
The party is unconcerned. Beltin prepares the spells to lift the afflictions on Jake and BW and then once Gurg is revived, he smashes the phylactery. There is the sound of a distant scream as it shatters, but then nothing. King Kroma is defeated.
With that done, the party heads back into the fort and their magical cabin. They are exhausted after all and it's still only about 3 a.m.
Though utterly exhausted, Jake awakens before dawn and finds himself utterly restless. From outside the cabin he hears the sounds of squeaky wheels. The sound of a hand cart. He gets a feeling unreality. It must be a dream. So why not see what is happening?
Outside he sees a figure in shabby black robes pushing an ancient and battered cart filled with random items of low quality. From under the hood he can make out a jutting jaw with too many teeth. The Midnight Peddler has again arrived.
Jake approaches the Peddler and the creature pulls out a battered looking scrolls case.
"Buy?" it asks. "30 gold."
Jake does and holds the case, examining it. It is not magical as far as he can tell. The Peddler stares at him and then begins to speak. Jake is building an army, building power, but for what purpose, he wonders. Jake says he is unsure. The Peddler replies that he should beware the folly of short-sighted ambition and the search for power for its own sake; the Desolation is a monument to such ideals, and it is a place of utter ruin.
Jake ponders this advice for a moment and then seems to discard it. He tells the Peddler he will keep that in mind. Without another word the Peddler moves on and disappears into the darkness.
Day 21
The next morning (afternoon), the party awakens to find that the dwarves are already gone. Good, they think, one less thing to worry about.
Jake yawning and stretching, considers the whole encounter with the Peddler to be a strange dream. That is until he sees the battered scroll case laying on the floor near his bed. He shares his story with the party (they remember the strange "fish monger" BW met before they entered the Chaos Rift and share it) and then he picks up the case.
He cautiously opens the it and inside he finds sand and some sort of rolled canvas. He unrolls it and realizes it is a fragment of a large painting, perhaps a third or a fourth of a larger whole. He has the bottom right segment and he can see signature of an artist, though he can't quite make it out. He studies the artwork.
He sees a partial circle of geometric shapes, seemingly all variations of three letters. V O L. About a third of the circle is torn off. From within it he sees a bowl filled with incense and several strange things, all of which he recognizes as spell components. Perhaps summoning components. From the smoke of the incense there appears to be a translucent figure rising, in the process of taking solid form from the smoke. The true form of the figure it cut off, but by looking closely he can see the smokey lines are actually countless tiny scenes of suffering.
Outside the circle, he sees more symbols, but they appear to less magic symbols and more artistic symbolism. What they mean is beyond him and he doesn't care. The painting fragment is clearly the work of a master and by staring at it Jake feels as though he can almost see movement, hear what must be screams and chanting in the background of the scene depicted. He can almost smell the smoke and perhaps the blood. And then the moment is gone and it is only a painting again, though one of extraordinary quality. He examines it again for magic and finds nothing. Only canvas and paint.
Yet he is now sure the ritual is real and one that with a little bit of effort he may be able to reproduce. He doesn't know what it will do exactly, but he knows deep down it will lead to power. The Peddler's warning against such recklessness is already forgotten as he begins in his mind to reverse engineer the ritual in the painting. Why? Because power is its own reward.
To be continued...
Notes: Each player is going to get something special beyond their already formidable gestalt abilities at a certain point as decided by the DM; consider it a congratulations for surviving so long. The scepter from the King Kroma as well as the gained mastery over souls from his communion to Nerull is Beltin's reward.
Scepter of the Undead Legion
- Unholy, Conductive Heavy Mace.
- Counts as a holy symbol for any cleric able to channel negative energy.
- If held by an intelligent undead, the scepter confers +8 channel resistance and immunity versus undead controlling effects. Living wielders are instead harmed by positive energy and healed by negative and receive a +2 bonus on Will saves.
- As a full round action, the wielder may touch the scepter to a mindless undead he controls and store it in an extradimensional space to be called forth at a later time. Alternatively, the wielder may spend a minute and target all mindless undead under his control in a 60ft burst centered on the wielder.
- This extradimensional space seemingly has no limit, but stored undead still count toward the wielder’s HD limit for the number of undead he can control. Any duration for how long the undead remain under his control is suspended while they are in storage. If the wielder gains control of an amount of HD over his limit, the scepter automatically consumes any excess stored undead, starting with the lowest HD creature. Creatures consumed this way are permanently lost.
- As a full round action, the wielder may call forth a single undead creature of any size from the scepter’s extradimensional space. The wielder targets an area within 400 feet and a patch of writhing darkness appears on the ground from which the undead arises. Alternatively, the wielder may spend one minute of concentration to call forth up to 20 stored creatures. For this purpose small and medium undead count as 1, large as 2, huge as 3, gargantuan as 4, colossal as 5, and below small as 1/2. Most swarms count as large.
- By sacrificing some of his own essence or that of another to power the procedure, the wielder may instead call forth any number of stored undead rapidly. As a full round action the wielder and any willing or helpless living sentient creature within 30ft may receive any number of permanent negative levels to call forth the undead at a conversion rate of 5 undead per negative level bestowed, as per the size scale listed above. This ability otherwise functions as the standard calling ability.
