Travelling to Vonsea
Tama traveled through the pestilence, seemingly cloaked by Hextor, as the misty creatures paid him no heed. “Stick to the road,” Karstan advises, noticing the crunch of grass beneath Tama's boots. Only able to see his lover’s silhouette, Tama hurries at Karstan's beckoning.For minutes, the tormented screams were a low drone, but now he sees their source: a massive dome of force encasing the metropolis, a deep violet miasma creating an opaque film over the mystical barrier. Countless pestilence-wrought creatures claw at the walls. “Hextor keeps us hidden,” Karstan whispers, his breath warm and steady. Moving closer to a familiar sigil like the one used in the Bastion for teleportation, Karstan touches the iron fist symbol around his neck, and the sigil lights up beneath their feet. The tang of metal and arcane magic fills Tama’s senses, and suddenly, they stand in a city of perpetual night, rivaling the grandeur of Epoch. The violet sky, swirling with magic and miasma, glitters like a sea of stars. Tama's gaze fixes on the central black tower. “The Ebony Citadel,” Karstan utters, recognizing his focus. “That’s where we will speak to Markon, the head priest of Hextor. He will grant you citizenship, and then we can bring the rest of your allies.”
Karstan leads you through the stone streets of Vonsea, his steps sure and confident, as if he's walked this path countless times. Despite the darkness overhead, the streets are illuminated by a blue-white light from the mystical flames of the street posts, creating an artificial daylight. The dissonance between the lit streets and the night sky above feels jarring to your druidic sensibilities. As you move through the marketplace, everything seems normal at first glance. However, the longer you observe, the more the mask of normality slips. The usual lively chatter is subdued, with clerks and patrons interacting in a straightforward manner. Scantily clad orcs, elves, and other non-humans, dressed in red fabric, accompany humans, their scarred backs and legs telling a tale of cruelty and pain.
“Come back here!” a gruff voice shouts, and you see a small boy running through the crowd, something tucked under his arm. A female patron grabs him and throws him to the ground, allowing the irate man, hand axe in tow, to catch up. As the boy struggles, you notice he only has one hand, the left severed at mid-forearm.
In Vonsea, there are three choices for theft. Death if the victim wills it, severing of the hands, or slave work till the debt is paid. Tama purchases the girl, who is warey of Tama's intentions. She goes with Tama but let's him know she is not a whore.
Tama ascends the towering Ebony Citadel, the heart of Hextor’s influence in Vonsea. As he approaches the dark, imposing structure, he feels the weight of his choice, the anticipation mingling with resolve. Inside, he is led through echoing halls adorned with ominous tapestries depicting battles and conquests, until he stands before Mahkon, the Knight-Tyrant of Hextor.
Mahkon, a formidable figure radiating authority, scrutinizes Tama with piercing eyes. “Why have you come, druid?” he asks, his voice a mixture of curiosity and challenge. Tama bows deeply, showing the utmost respect, and declares his devotion to Hextor, emphasizing his willingness to serve the citadel and further their cause.
To test his worthiness, Mahkon subjects Tama to a series of trials, assessing his strength, cunning, and faith. Each challenge pushes Tama to his limits, but he remains resolute, demonstrating not only his skills but also his unwavering loyalty. Impressed by his dedication, Mahkon acknowledges Tama's potential, granting him a place within the citadel's ranks.
The Knight-Tyrant, now satisfied with Tama’s devotion, outlines his first priority: the destruction of the Bastion. Mahkon has been here for 500 years waiting for his time. It has become a symbol of opposition, harboring those who would resist Hextor’s influence. Mahkon's eyes burn with ambition as he entrusts Tama with this crucial mission, emphasizing the need to eradicate the Bastion’s corruption and bring glory to Hextor. With a newfound purpose, Tama leaves the citadel, ready to prove his allegiance and carry out Mahkon’s command. He recieved an Iron Coin of Hextor that allows him to speak with the Ordained Champions as well as bestow pestilence immunity to others for 24 hours.
The Temple of Leyriora
Quinn and Otto embarked on a journey to Waveshire, heading to the Temple of Leyriora with a sense of urgency. Before setting out, Quinn used a messaging spell to reach out to Vann Van'zant, informing him of their imminent arrival. Vann's response was cryptic but clear: they were to ask for Evania Eventide and use the phrase "Banana Cream Pie." Upon arriving at the temple, Quinn and Otto found Evania, a priestess of Leyriora. The initial conversation was awkward and stilted, the priestess eyeing them with suspicion. However, the moment Quinn uttered the secret phrase, Evania's demeanor changed dramatically. She quickly ushered them to a secluded room, filled with the soft glow of numerous candles and scattered pillows that created an atmosphere of both mystery and comfort. Behind a folding screen, Evania revealed a door that struck Quinn and Otto as familiar—similar to one they had seen in Thunderstone.
Evania opened the door, revealing the extradimensional tavern that served as the secret home of the Plume. Inside, they found Vann and Dixon hard at work, repairing fire damage that had ravaged the area. Vann, heavily bandaged and bleeding, caught their attention immediately. His wounds were severe, and despite being a week old, they showed no signs of healing even with magical intervention. Otto quickly moved to examine Vann's injuries, while Vann began to recount the harrowing events that had led to this state.
Vann recounted how he had disguised himself as a day servant at the Bastion, overhearing a conversation in the temple to St. Cuthbert about dealing with the Kadrel Karad incident in Waveshire. Despite waiting, no one left the room, and when he checked, it was empty, but the air reeked of brimstone. Knowing Alden's involvement, Vann teleported from the Bastion and caught a ride on the Archtrain to Waveshire, only to find Alden already dead with his head crushed. As Vincent approached, Vann used a dimensional door to escape and watched from the rooftops as Alden's body was taken away. Suddenly, Vann smelled brimstone again and narrowly dodged Ceric's spiked chain. The ensuing fight was fierce, with Ceric displaying otherworldly stamina. Vann managed to plunge his rapier into Ceric's neck armor, but Ceric remained unfazed. Each time Vann tried to escape using a dimensional door, Ceric followed, guided by the persistent smell of brimstone. Vann cast darkness and mislead, creating a duplicate of himself, but Ceric saw through the ruse. Battered and barely escaping, Vann made his way back, but even after a week, his wounds from Ceric had not healed.
Otto, using his superior knowledge of medicine and healing, carefully examined Vann's wounds. With a combination of skillful hands and fervent prayers to Pelor, he was able to stem the blood flow and gradually mend the injuries that had resisted healing for so long. As Otto worked, the air filled with a warm, radiant glow, a testament to Pelor's grace aiding the healing process. Once Vann was stabilized, he and Quinn sat together in the quiet room. Vann listened intently as Quinn recounted the harrowing encounter with Ceric, detailing the danger and the cunning it took to survive. After hearing the tale, Vann turned to Quinn with a thoughtful expression. "I should have told you earlier," he began, his voice filled with warmth, "how proud I am of the bard you’ve become. You’ve shown courage and resilience beyond measure." He paused, a hint of emotion in his eyes. "It’s an honor to have been your mentor."
In Conclusion The party was given a small door that they can use to come back to the Plume, usable once per week for up to 8 hours. It will link to the master door. The party headed back to Bastion, ready to attend the ball in their honor for their trails against the Yuan-ti.