Heroes into Hell

[....]

A week has passed since the end of the siege of Ab'Esra. The land is burned and black, covered with corpses; some of which have been laying out for nearly two weeks.

Clerics and relatives pick through the remians, trying to find missing loved ones, to identify the hundereds, maybe thousands who died facing the great evil that attacked.

The whole area is dotted with camps of war. They range from small camps of a few tents, to several massive war-camps of elves, humans, orcs, and other, stranger things. Discipline is starting to break down as the soldiers begin to look at their comrades with old distrust. Continuing raids by surviving Beastlings does little to help keep the tenuous peace, as every group is certain they have done their part and shouldn't be called upon to defend the others.

Behind the walls of Ab'Esra, the leaders of the diverse and conflicting factions argue about what to do, how to proceed, and other pointless things.

You are camped in the field with your own army, be it a mercenary band, fellow countrymen or members of the same species. As a dirty rain begins to fall from the gloaming sky, a man who once may have been a herald but is now dirty and tired, approaches, asking about you. Once he finds you he presents you a letter of request from Akeon Wilrith, one of the Seven Lords of Ab'Esra, for your immediate presence at the Spire of Ab'Esra. The herald waits to escort you.

OOC: I know its sort of cheap to give everyone the same basic starting scenario, but I wanted to leave it rough so you can introduce your characters yourself.

[Neftren]

Gryfe Baghr

Gryfe OOC Crunch:

Spoiler

Show

Okay, since we don't have an OOC thread up yet, I'll go ahead and take Maroon for my PC's thoughts, speech and dialogue.

Here's what I expect from the other party members/players in the group:
•*Proper Grammar, Spelling and Punctuation
• Use of the correct Post Formatting Rules (See Spoiler)
• Appropriate Language. (No R or X rated Language. Seriously.)

Spoiler

Show

Post Formatting
This last section is for general appearance of the posts to the thread. There are basically two standard formatting variants - as a GM, you should select one for your game for everyone to use. You can create your own particular variation, but be aware this can be a bit confusing for players. Players should follow this selection, even if their preference is for another style – having everyone use a different format can rapidly become confusing.

Prose Format

Prose format is the one preferred on these boards, and 3rd person POV and past tense are preferred.

Script Format

Script format is called that because it looks a little like a TV show or play script, but doesn’t follow those conventions exactly. It’s generally in present tense, third person perspective.

General
Post formatting can be found in the Guide to Message Board Codes (NOTE: this thread is currently being updated to take into account the switch to vBulletin software). When picking a color, pick one different from the other players and stick to that specific color. If the GM reserves a color for her posts, don't use that one. You can use red for character speech, though it is preferred you do not - normally, red text is reserved for Mod posts, at least in theory.

Proper grammar and spelling (barring unusual speech patterns or accents as part of a character's defining traits) are a must, since confusion resulting from a run-on sentence could lead to mistakes, possibly even character death. Running a post through a spelling and grammar checker before posting is a good idea.

Combat, Saves, Checks
It's always a good idea to include the relevant statistics for any sort of skill check you're making in the OOC section. For example, in combat listing AC, attack bonuses, weapon damage, and current HP is a good idea. If you cast a spell, list caster level, save DC, etc. When making a skill check, list the relevant bonuses (for example, “Survival +6, +8 aboveground, +8 when tracking goblins, +10 when tracking goblins aboveground”). The GM does have access to the character sheets, but its good form to give quick reference information when possible.

Party OOC Crunch:

Spoiler

Show

Submitted Characters:
To dyslexicfaser and WhiteKnight777, please post your character sheet links to make it a lot easier on the rest of us to see what you have. To Zimmia, please finish and submit your sheet, hopefully before I go to bed. Now for a name to call that Druid of yours.

Gryfe merely nods at the messenger, grabs his glowing Elven Courtblade and walks off, apparently unhindered by the black Blindfold obscuring his eyes. Something strange appears about him, as if the shadows conform with him, and as you look closely, his sword seems to waver and flicker in the erratic light, and it's outline appears blurry and unfocused. His very movements seem lethal, yet he appears capable of restraining himself. Gryfe Baghr is not one to be reckoned with easily. Even a normal man can see to that.

[WhiteKnight777]

Melanthum

The group with which Melanthum sat was one of the smallest scattered across the entire battlefield, and also one of the most... eccentric. Every one gathered around the multicolored campfire was come through the Sigilian portal in the city proper. some came for pay, some to fight the Beast for glory, and some just to fight, period. The group chattered along happily in half a dozen languages. At the moment, Melanthum was swapping tales with a pair of Tiefling twins, one male, the other female. They were almost exactly alike, save for a few curves here or there. Their eyes were the greatest difference. The male's were a searing, ruby red, while the girl's were the deep azure of a Celestial sky. Across the campfire a trio of the massive stone-skinned creatures called Maug sat, each one boasting the number of Beastlings it had slain with its mighty double-edged axe. A little distance away, a Githzerai warrior sat, its eyes closed and its body perfectly at rest, the karach blade in its lap pulsing slowly, like a liquid metal heartbeat.

Melanthum was chuckling at one of the tiefling's tales involving a confused Prime visiting the infamous Brothel of Slaking Intellectual Lusts, when he heard the herald approaching from behind. He took the letter from the tired, dirty young man. He read it over briefly, then nodded to the herald and stood, bidding his erstwhile companions fond farewell as he rose, following the herald back towards the Spire, where the Lords awaited.

Spoiler

Show

Going for Gold

[Quxelopqr]

Nick

Nick is sitting with a decent sized group of humans, most of whom are coming from different bands. Nick's very presence seems to keep them together and away from each other's throats. After sharing a few inspiring stories of adventure by his group of companions and playing a few tunes on a very well kept trumpet, the young man is greeted by a dusty herald. Reading the summons, he bids his crowd farewell, reminding them of their obligations to each other and the world. I hope this letter means I won't be going in there by myself. The young man picks up his cloak, checks his weapons on his person, replaces his trumpet into his backpack, and follows the herald towards the spire.

Spoiler

Show

If no one cares, I'll take blue for my color.

[dyslexicfaser]

Sonny

The goblin warriors clustered around their fire drew back as the herald approached. "I have a message from one of the Lords of Ab'Esra; I'm to escort your leader there."

A goblin detached from the crowd and strode forward towards the herald. He moved with an un-goblin-like confidence, looking up at the much taller human fearlessly. You have message for Sonny?" The goblin leader managed to be even dirtier than the herald, if that were possible; his already dark skin was stained yet darker with dirt and other substances, and his armor was scuffed and unpolished. Ony his eyes seemed bright and new, gleaming gold.

"Take Sonny to Human Lord," he commanded the bemused herald. He went on, Goblin aid not come cheap!" ignoring the fact that no one had asked for their aid, and that the goblins had shown up unannounced and, by and large, unwanted.

[Dorizzit]

Korral is actually at the side of King Kromadier when he is called. The hobgoblin has a large, well made steel shield with a stylized vortex pattern on its surface resting on the ground, and has a simple but masterfully made Bastard Sword on his back. Out of place amongst these items is his delicately made Elven chainmail, which glitters brightly even in the rain. He is well muscled and tough, but moves with the grace and precision of a dancer. His face shows no emotion whatsoever. He seems totally out of place amongst his elven companions, and yet he also seems to fit in. His every action radiates control and discipline. He is exactly the kind of person that you could see claiming to have killed a man with his thumb...and actually getting you to believe it. When the Herald has come for him, he says: "No, I cannot go. My duty is here." One of his companions, apparently of higher rank, draws him back for a few seconds. They have a quick, heated discussion, before Korral turns back, his face still giving no clues to his thoughts, and wordlessly nods and follows the Herald.

[Tyrolin]

Feng is sitting on the ground, crafting another of his dolls when the messanger arrives.
"What you want?" he asks. The messanger explains and asks Feng to follow him. "You wait 'til doll done. Then Feng come, human"
He spends another few minutes finishing the doll, then places it on his belt. He hefts his gigantic greatsword and pushes the messanger forward "We go. Not have all day."

[Zimmia]

Mimosa

On the very far edge of the battlefield, Mimosa sat with two other druids and a ranger and the four animals. Their fire was very small and they were wrapped in blankets sharing amusing stories. As the herald approaches the group erupts into fits of what can only be called the giggles and Mimosa is flushing a rosy red. Wiping her eyes of the tears of mirth she is somewhat taken aback when the herald hands her the letter. She skims then reads it and then wobbles her head back and forth. "The world sure moves in mysterious ways," she said with a smile as she gathered her things and bids her companions goodbye. Pulling her cloak around her for warmth she climbs on her animal companion and she and the great leopard follow the herald. 'This might be interesting,' she thought.

[Cyrus112]

((Guess I'll go with green))

Connor is sitting by his lonesome by a cooking fire on top of a newly slain beastling. His pipe is between his teeth as he surveys the chaotic scene before him, lost in his thoughts.

"Heironneous, be with us in this dire hour. Be with those just souls that have fallen today. Give me the strength to vanquish the evils that have befallen this realm. Help me to restore order."

"What is it you want, herald?" he asks without even turning around. The herald gives him the message. Connor nods and stands, fanning his wings out as wide as they will go. He douses the fire and puts his cooking utensils and left over food in his bag. His wings fold around him like a cloak, and if one weren't paying attention, one may mistake it for a cloak. He silently turns around and nods at the herald to lead the way. He follows, still smoking his pipe.

[....]

The Spire of Ab'Esra is aptly named. It soars nearly three hundered feet into the air, a narrowing spike of black stone built years before the metropolis sprung up around it.

You are led through the streets of Ab'Esra, choked with refugees from all over the Known World. Women, children, and old men for the most part. The few young men you see are all horribly disfigured or maimed by combat with the Horror and it's Beastlings.

The hearld takes you past the guards of the Spire and into a large waiting room. Here you are left with seven other people. Before you have a chance to do more than glance at your fellow waiters, however, an ornate door opposite the one you entered through opens up.

An elf, quite tall for his race, strides into the room. He is armed with two exquisite longswords strapped to his back, all but the least magically inclined clearly feeling their power. His face is creased by a long and wicked scar running down from his hairline and across one eye to his chin and further down his throat. The eye on that side is gone, an empty socket stares blankly at you. You all recognize him as Akeon Wilrith, one of the Seven Lords, and the only one to have once been an adventurer.

He looks you all over apprasingly, nodding, then says, "Good. You've all come as desired. Sorry about the suddeness of the request, but time is short. I'll be brief.

"We didn't defeat the Beast. We simply trapped it. I realize there are all sorts of rumours about what happened two days ago, I've heard everything from divine lightning to tarrasque summoning. Let me be plain, with the aid of Emperor Kromadier and the finest mages in the Known World, we trapped the Beast is what is essentially a pocket dimention. Think of a bag of holding, only much, much larger.

Akeon motions for you to follow, and walks through the ornate doors, speaking as he walks, "This solution is... temporary at best. Already our allies from Sigil claim they can feel the very fabric of the Material plane bending and rippling as whatever that damn thing is tries to tear its way free."

He leads you down a long, upward spiraling walkway. It ends in a set of doors twenty feet high and carved of what looks like white granite. Two Imperial Guards flank it. Akeon nods to them and they push the doors open.

"The spellslingers suspect the only thing keeping the Beast in its prison for now is my old friend, and the Emperor of Whist, Kromadier."

He motions ahead of him. Sitting in the throne of this huge chamber is a smaller elf. He wears a robe clearly designed for battle. His long brown hair is shot with silver streaks that glow faintly. His eyes are open, but rather than showing an iris and pupil, they show only small suns of bright white light. His face is fixed. If it weren't for the slow rise and fall of his chest, he'd look like a statue.

Akeon pauses a moment, looking at the figure on the throne, then sighs and turns to face you all.

"He's been like this since the spell. We brought him here and told the other Lords that he was meditating on how to restore his Empire to the south. I don't know how long he can keep up his battle of wills, nor how long our ruse will hold. Even if he can keep the Beast at bay, its only a matter of time before one of the wizards blabs about it to someone, and with things as they are the word will spread like wildfire... and then who knows what could happen."

Akeon takes a final glance at the Emperor, and then leads you back outside the throne room.

"I show you this because I need you all to know how serious this situation is. All of you have proven yourselves in battle against the Beast. Your commanders and comrades all recomended you as the greatest fighters they could find. What I ask of you know is simple. We need you all to find a way to kill, or at least imprison this Beast. And find out who or what was responsible for its entrance into this plane."

[WhiteKnight777]

Melanthum

Melanthum nodded slowly, looking at the Emperor as he lay struggling to keep whatever that... thing was trapped. Dressed all in dark colors, Melanthum took off his wide-brimmed leather hat as he entered the Emperor's presence.

Indeed... I've felt the bloody thing tearing at the walls e'er since the Emperor here and his mages Mazed it. Whatever that thing was, it's not like anything I've heard tell of before. Lot of strange things accross the planes, though, so that's not particularly surprising. Damn thing was a right Athar at the Spire, though, and unless you can get the Lady to give you some pointers, I doubt it will hold for too much longer. That bit, though, you seem to already know.

His tone when he speaks of the Lady is respectful, almost reverent, a rare thing indeed for Melanthum, and his voice indicates that the idea of the Lady helping is intended in the same way that one might say a talking magical pig would suddenly appear and banish the Beast with its awesome porcine powers. Actually, Melanthum's tone seems to indicate that that might be a good deal more likely. After a moment, he continued.

So, do you have the chant on where we might start looking? I don't fancy jumping out the window into the Beast's prison to try to stop it or Styx it without knowing what we're going up against. If you've got no better leads than we, I'd suggest a jaunt into the Cage, see if we can't track down a Graybeard who can tell us a little more about the thing. And we might be able to pick up the dark on who unchained the damn thing on us in the first place... My first guess'd be Fiends, but you never know, and pointing the finger at the fellows from Below is always a bit obvious in these sorts of situations - though it's obvious because it's so often true.

[Tyrolin]

Feng grunts, "He keep thing there? You want us kill thing? Is good. I go. Thing killed mother."
He drops into a low rumble, so that no one can make out what he's saying, though it sounds painful, at best.

A moment later he says "Hurry. Is best go now. He not look good."

[Dorizzit]

Korral walks from the side of the throne to stand with the rest of the group, the cat-like grace in his steps apparent to even the least gifted in such things, his fist clenched at his side when he looks at Kromadier. He leans against a wall, although his controlled posture relaxes only slightly. He addresses his single, direct question to Akeon: "Do you have any knowledge of where we should begin?"

[Quxelopqr]

Nick

Nick listens patiently to all the explanations, then speaks up. "I feel it a little as well. I hope he can last long enough for us to finish this creature off." He scratches as his slight beard, then, looking to his new group, he asks "Does anyone know any form of magic that can ask the Gods about it? I've heard of powerful mages and clerics divining information that mortals would never understand." Nick's gaze wanders to each of the people in the room, but it always seems to end on the elf on the throne.

[Zimmia]

Mimosa

Mimosa has a hard time ripping her gaze from the elf. She could see in her head what his struggle must be, feeling just a glimpse of that struggle within her as well. "Lets get whatever information we quickly can then begin. Dealing with the Beast can happen none too soon."

[WhiteKnight777]

Melanthum

Melanthum shrugs at Nick's suggestion.

I could cast such a spell, if provided with a scroll... I'd guess these fine gentlemen have already seen fit to do so, though. Still, as I said, I'm always one for a grand ride, but I'm in no hurry to throw myself down the beast's gullet and accomplish nothing, either.

[Tyrolin]

Feng listens closely, though he misses most of the words. He still says his mind, though "Gods know much. Ask them. Cannot hurt, if done quickly."

He moves his massive bulk closer to the king, shocking everyone when he reaches out and touches him. "Lay him down. He not get better soon, and he still not look good"

[Neftren]

Nick

Nick listens patiently to all the explanations, then speaks up. "I feel it a little as well. I hope he can last long enough for us to finish this creature off." He scratches as his slight beard, then, looking to his new group, he asks "Does anyone know any form of magic that can ask the Gods about it? I've heard of powerful mages and clerics divining information that mortals would never understand." Nick's gaze wanders to each of the people in the room, but it always seems to end on the elf on the throne.

Gryfe

Gryfe turns towards Nick and adresses him "Divination would be a possibility. Consulting a Cleric to contact the gods would possibly work, although we have no idea which god here would be the best."

He turns towards the throne and the Emperor.
"Does he have any information that he left us before... he went comatose? Perhaps we should try and find out what plane this beast is from first. Then we can go about contacting the appropriate god."

Gryfe slowly approaches the throne. He examines the Emperor closely, as if there were all the time in the world. "He is not well. He is stalling the creature, but it is winning, ever so slowly... at least that is what I can see from this mortal perspective. I may be of smoke and shadow, but even the thin line he treads here may destroy him."

[....]

Feng cannot get closer than ten feet to the Emperor. His hand hits an invisible barrier.

"Sorry Feng," Akeon says, "we had the mages put up a few Walls of Force. We don't know what will happen if someone kills or harms, or hell, even distracts Kromadier right now, so we're keeping everyone well away."

Turning to the others, Akeon says, "We have asked the gods, but so far we haven't gotten any decent answers. The clerics think it might have something to do with this strange weather, that its weakening their connection... A few of us have another idea... that the gods don't know quite what this Beast is, and are just afraid to admit it."

Akeon shakes his head, "But we have a lead... of sorts. Someone contacted us and asked for representitives to meet them in Sigil. They wouldn't say where, for fear of retaliation. They said that they'd make themselves known to our representitives.

"Now, normally I'd go with a division of my rangers, and the whole of the Imperial Army, maybe a couple hundered wizards just to be sure... but the spellslingers are worried about the stability of our portal to Sigil. They closed it soon after the last of our mercenaries came through, and its been closed all throughout the siege.

"What we want from you eight, is to go to Sigil, and make contact with this person. Find out what they know. If it is some way to finish the Beast, get that information back to us. Once we know what to do, we can work from there."

Akeon motions again, and starts to lead you all back to the lobby of the Spire.

"This is not a mission to be taken lightly, but neither was facing the Beastlings in battle. If any of you do not wish to do this, I understand and won't think less of you; but if you refuse I do ask you not tell anyone of Kromadier's condition, as it could lead to outright combat rather than simple nudges. You have one hour to decide, and prepare. After that we'll be opening the portal to Sigil and sending whoever returns through. Once you're ready, meet me back here in the castle, ask for Lord Wilrith and you'll be shown to me."

Akeon finishes just as you all reach the main gate of the Spire. The guards here, humans, open the gate and nod reverently. Akeon smiles and says, "I hope to see you all back here soon."

[Neftren]

Gryfe

Gryfe bows low, arises and nods to the guards. "I am a scout and a rogue. I've learned to live on the fly, and am always ready. My meager belongings are already on me. Relics of an old friendship. Count me in. I feel it is my responsibility to track down and slay this beast. My brethren on the Plane of Shadow would approve. Count me in."

With that, he walks towards Lord Akeon and awaits the others.

[Dorizzit]

Korral moves slowly to Akeon's side, and slides cross legged to the ground, apparently unmindful of the dirt and rain. He reverently draws his blade and lays it across his lap, and all but the least observant can tell that there is great power and history contained within the blade. "You all have your decisions to make," he says softly. "But I have no need to prepare. My decision is made already."

[Quxelopqr]

Nick

"No questions here either. That thing hurt my friends and threatens the world. That's enough for me. I'm in."

Nick rises from his seat and joins the others.

[WhiteKnight777]

Melanthum

Melanthum couldn't help but laugh a little at Feng's speech. Once again, he speaks the name of the Lady with profound respect.

You realize that marching an army into Sigil would likely be the last thing you ever do, aye? The Lady of Pain doesn't take kindly to that sort of thing. If She let you in at all, you'd probably all find yourselves soon flayed or Mazed, neither of which would be pretty. In any case, I don't need any time to deliberate either. I've got nothin' better to do at the moment, and a little jaunt like this sounds like just the thing. Besides, someone has to show these berks around the Cage so they don't look like a bunch of sodding ringwalkers.

He grins playfully at the last bit, throwing a wink to the others and gesturing at them.

[dyslexicfaser]

Sonny

The dirty goblin remained silent, thinking it through. He was honestly tempted to forget the whole thing and go back to his mountains, but... But. The Terror was a danger to goblins just as much as anything else. It needed to be stopped.

Sonny sniffed and drew his ragged cloak around him like a kingly mantle. He offered generously, "Sonny go too. Goblin magic strong; help lots."

He frowned and added to the elf Lord, "And if Sonny's tribe not well when Sonny get back, Sonny kill you and do horrible things to your corpse." He was as threatening as a humanoid who didn't reach past the elf's belt could possibly be.

[Zimmia]

Mimosa

"Well lessee..." Mimosa says with a half smile, not so much trying to lighten the mood as a simple expression of her personality. "Track down a hideous Beast, save the Emperor who is fighting the holding action and restore the balance that it has tried to destroy? What are we waiting for? Let's go!"

[Cyrus112]

Connor has kept quiet, observing each person in turn, seemingly judging each person on the spot. He seems to be measuring each person against a nameless ideal he holds in his head. His golden eyes seem quite piercing as he briefly fixes his gaze on each person's face.

"It is not right that all of our actions and attempts should come to naught should this Horror once again break free," he says in a firm, yet soft voice. His voice seems too quiet to carry, but it reaches everyone's ears well enough, and the tone he uses carries the conviction and confidence of someone who believes what they are saying to be absolutely true and the best course of action.

"It is a sin against the Gods and the natural order of things. Everything I own is on my person. I am ready to go when everyone else is. I will fight this Horror to its death or my own, for I will not suffer it to live."

[Cyrus112]

((OOC: I will be gone tonight and most of tomorrow and there won't be Internet access (going to meet the girlfriends family in Jersey *gulp*). So, feel free to NPC me as you see fit. Connor tends to be the quiet type anyway, hehe. Today I work until four so I'll leave a final post when I get back. I would have left one now, but there hasn't been an update yet *shrug*))

[Tyrolin]

Feng cracks his neck and says "Feng has stuff. Sword, doll, need nothing else. We go soon?", though he keeps pressing at the wall of force, seemingly amazed by it.

[....]

Akeon cracks a lopsided grin.

"I see we picked the right people for the job. Very well then, we can take you right away." He sighs, "I wish I could go with you fellows. I've almost forgotten what its like to be on the road, on a quest." His one good eye fills with longing, "but those days are over for me, someone has to stay here and keep the other Lords in line. Anyway, c'mon, no need to listen to an old elf jabber."

He takes you back into the Spire, down a different path. Deep into the dungeons of the great castle and lower still, till at last you reach a large circular room carved of black stone. Against one wall is what appears to be a large mirror of obsidian. Akeon looks at his own reflection in it.

"You know, when me and Kromadier and our other companions first came to this place, this portal was a gate to a demiplane that housed a right nasty godling. Now we use it to get trinkets from a city ruled by a giant floating head. How strange time is." He shakes his head and turns to face you all.

"Well, now we-"

Akeon is inturupted by a high, nasal voice comming from behind you all. The voice comes from a haughty looking man in red and black robes. He's the first person you've seen in the city that isn't dirty or at least worn out looking.

"Lord Wilrith! What are you doing here with this rabble? You know that this chamber is off limits!"

Akeon rubs his face, "These are the adventurers we're sending to Sigil, Skather."

Skather walks past you all and narrows his eyes, "This is the best we could get? And I thought they wouldn't be here for another hour!"

The ranger shrugs, "They seem game to go. And there's no reason not to, Kromadier may not have an hour left."

Skather sighs huffily, his already high voice rasing another octave, "Oh very well. But you should have informed me. I suppose I'll open the gate." He takes a large white stone from a pouch at his belt, it is carved with ancient draconic runes of opening and unlocking. (Knowledge: Arcane for more info) He starts to raise it up, then pauses and chuckles.

"I almost forgot," he says, and puts the stone away. From another pouch he takes a silver ring set with a small green stone. "This is a special ring I helped to create." He says, showing it to you all, "It allows the wearer to send a message of fifty words or less once per day to the bearer of this rings twin. It works across planes and all known magical barriers. Took quite a long time to create."

He stares at the ring longingly, apparently loath to pass it up, "And now I place all of that work into your... brutish hands," he eyes Sonny, Feng, and Korral especially.

"You can use the ring to give us reports on your quest," Akeon says, then, to Skather, "Now hurry it up, mage, give them the thing and open the portal. We haven't got all day."

Skather holds out the ring, waiting for someone to take it.

[WhiteKnight777]

Melanthum

Melanthum holds out his hand, taking the ring, even as his eyes trace across the rune inscribed stone. He gives both of them another smile, nodding.

Aye, this should come in handy. So you say that our contact will be meetin' us once we step into Sigil, right?