Session 6-28-09

 

"Dear Mr. Fantasy, play us a tune /

Something to make us all happy /

Do anything, take us out of this gloom /

Sing a song, play guitar, make it snappy /

You are the one who can make us all laugh /

But doing that, you break out in tears /

Please don't be sad, if it was a straight mind you'd had /

We wouldn't have known you all these years"

 

Maia 21, 23CR -- Realm of Azzagrat, City of Zelatar, Fogtown, the 45th Layer of the Abyss:

Foul breezes and a grey rain surround the party as they approach the the city walls of Fogtown.  Vrock droppings cake the vulture-demons' roosts on the walls, and all around the Oerthers and Gaians, a mass of demons churns and swarms, with frequent outbursts of horrible violence quickly put down by the armanite .  Their merchant charter as G.O.A.T. protects them for the moment, but a previous encounter with a hezrou slaver indicates that many demons may try to relieve them of the precious document.

 

Having reached the archway of the Viper Gate, the heroes find themselves flanked by two white, leafless trees whose bark resembles snake scales.  These viper trees' branches are prehensile and animated, and they are topped with snake heads.  As the six companions move cautiously past the viper trees, the branches reach out and nearly touch them, sensing for any presence of good auras or contraband.  A nearby armanite intones the many laws and regulations of Azzagrat, reading from the relief carvings in the city walls themselves.  "Alleigance to Celestial Powers is a capital crime in the realm of Lord Graz'zt..." is notable, due to the Mark of Bahamut which four of the heroes bear.  The Platinum Dragon is undoubtedly a Celestial power and a great sworn foe of evil.

 

Several tense seconds pass as the viper trees scan the party, but they are soon allowed to pass into Fogtown proper unmolested.  The grey and indeterminate layer is a bleak and hopeless cityscape, with scythe-topped roofs flickering with the silver light emitted constantly from Graz'zt's Argent Palace at the center of the city.  Known to exist across all three layers of Azzagrat, the Argent Palace is the seat of Graz'zt's power in the Abyss.  Here it casts a pale pallor over the squalid streets of Fogtown, which reveals itself as an insane tangle of slave gulags, harrowing brothels with sunken-eyed, frightened whores of myriad species, and rickety insane asylums.  The cackling and pleading of madmen seems a constant choir in Fogtown, and there appears to be a city ordinance requiring at least one asylum per block.  Acting the part of planar merchants, the six heroes cautiously display their wares as they move through the streets.  Ayotunde casts her seeds and stones forth to find the path, and as before in the Demonweb ghostly green footprints lead off towards one of the central districts of Fogtown.  A twisted manes pleads with the heroes, bowing and scraping.  "Merciful masters, deliver me from this place," it groans, clutching its long, sharp talons together.  A nearby armanite slams the manes up against a pile of rotting timbers.  "No harrassing the merchants!" says the enforcer, savagely tearing into the manes.  Leaving this violent and sad outburst behind, the heroes pass by a charnel pit of slaughterhouses run by the mutated, two-mawed butcher demons known as the carnevus.  The sights, sounds and smells of the slaughterhouse pit are indescribably horrible and cruel, and the six companions quickly press on, not stopping to gaze over-long at such nightmare visions.

 

As the party follows Ayotunde down a twisted alleyway with odd geometry, a tiefling thief makes off with a dose of Acacia's sassone leaf residue.  The mad tiefling cackles and uncorks the poison, drinking it like a man starving of thirst.  He falls over, choking and vomiting a green froth, going into seizure.  Acacia curses at the loss of her valuable poison, but there is little that can be done now.  Soon the alley opens up into a district known as the Queen's Causeway.  So named for Zuggtmoy, the Demon Queen of Fungi, the Causeway is a vast undermarket selling primarily a grey, chalky fungus.  The markets sell the fungi -- which is actually quite safe to eat, though tasteless -- in a staggering variety of exotic flavors.  Rats seem to have overrun the district, and swarms of them fearlessly crawl through the streets, occasionally growing bold enough to devour the occasional dretch.  A madman screeches at Ayotunde, bending his face against the bars of his asylum cell.  "It's all lies, lady!  You're going the wrong way... it's lying to you, I tell you!  It's lying!"  Not long after, as the companions pass by yet another dingy brothel of hopeless lice-infested whores of both sexes, an emaciated human woman wearing an iron slave-collar meets Ayo's eyes pleadingly, slowly shaking her head "no."

 

As they navigate the Queen's Causeway, the heroes feel the gloom and squalor of this hopeless place bearing down on them.  Yet another distraction appears before them.  This time, it is a mad fiendish degenerate dwarf -- a derro -- who approaches the party.  He has milky white eyes with slitted pupils, mottled gray skin and a shock of unkempt bright white hair with a pointed beard.  "Hi folks!  Boy, you sure look lost.  And the rats are starting to look at you in that 'hungry' way, too.  Hmm, that's not good.  Where might you be going?  Perhaps Raxivort can help!  That's me, by the way.  Raxivort, the Night Flutterer, they call me.  I can talk to the rats... but I don't do rats.  That's sick."  Despite his odd ways, which include loud and demonstrative nose-picking and a running smart-ass commentary on their mis-steps in the city, the derro seems to know his way around Zelatar, pointing out landmarks and showing his streetwise during the negotiation over his wages as a guide.  "So, it's the Sign of the Black Heart you're seeking?  Yep, I know the place.  Very posh, very exclusive... you guys must be made in the shade!"  Soon enough, the party agrees to accept his help, but none of them really trust the disgusting little derro.

 

Raxivort takes point, leading the six companions directly away from where Ayo's find the path spell indicates they should be headed.  Ayo moves to object, but Raxivort seems to know where he is going.  He leads them out of the Causeway proper and toward a series of massive black ovens glowing with odd green flames.  Demons step directly into these greenflame ovens, seemingly sucked into the flames and burned.  "But see," says Raxivort, "it's just a travelling portal.  They go all over the city, they do!  And I know most of the best pathways.  We're not far from the way down now."

 

With his fey sight, Jack notes the approach of a patrol of invisible bulezau demons.  To Jack, they appear as lithe and gaunt goat-demons with spiked venomous tails, skins festering with sores and pus.  The bulezau are another of the many hidden enforcers of order in Graz'zt's city, and they brazenly approach the party, brandishing their greatspears at the mortals.  "Pay the merchant's protection fee, and there will be no trouble," they sneer, noticing that Jack can see them.  After a few moments of tense negotiation, the bulezau finally relent, allowing Jack and the others to proceed on their way to the great ovens.

 

"Here we go now," announces Raxivort as the party approaches a set of great black-iron ovens, smoking and belching green-tinged filth into the skies of Fogtown.  The derro picks out a particular oven of green flame and dives inside head first.  "Follow meeee!" he cries, and each of the heroes steps into the green flames.  They are as hot as normal flame, and all are singed and lightly burned by the experience of traveling through the ovens.  Subsumed into flame and shot through a twisting channel of green fire, they soon emerge in the 46th layer of the Abyss, and the middle layer of Azzagrat: Ghallenghast.  During the trip, Altaer attempts to gain arcane insight regarding the precise functions of the greenflame oven network, but the experience is too overwhelming for him to glean anything useful.

 

Emerging from the oven, the six heroes and their guide find themselves standing in a wide street outside a vast gladiatorial pit.  It was perhaps once a foundry or forge, but now serves as an arena for the most brutal of bloodsports between demons, mortals and other combatants.  Across the layer, light shines up from the ground making all places seem strangely distorted, and shadows stretch like columns of light into the sky.  Because of the strange lighting effects, Acacia notes that hiding will be difficult here.  The walls of the Swordsmith's Pit rise high, topped with razor wire and spikes on which the dead victims of other gladiators have been impaled.  Rockbounder feels compelled to compete inside the Pit, but the others convince him that their mission is more important.  As they prepare to depart, following Raxivort, a shrill horn sounds and demons all over the streets scatter and scrape the ground, bowing low as a retinue of nobles approaches the party's position.

 

At the head of the procession, a half-drow demon who resembles a younger version of his father, strides forward.  Impossibly comely, with shining coal-black skin and lithe, rippling muscles across his tall, slender build, this six-fingered demon can only be the infamous Athux, one of the many sons of Graz'zt.  Athux is festooned with military regalia, indicating his position as the commander of his father's demonic legions.  His demeanor veritably drips with confidence and sexual prowess, a general of the Abyss in his home plane, surrounded by fawning sycophants and pleasure slaves.  Ayotunde recalls that Athux was thought to have been instrumental in Graz'zt recent overthrow of the demon lord Adimarchus, Lord of Madness and ruler of Occipitus (layer 507 of the Abyss).  Noting the mortals' presence immediately, Athux calls his retinue to a halt.

 

"Beautiful lady, you grace my father's city with your presence," he purrs smoothly to Ayotunde, piercing her with a seductive look that makes her swoon despite herself.  "Come, now... you must have important business here.  I see that you carry a merchant charter, so indulge me, beautiful souls, and show me your wares," he says, raising an eyebrow suggestively and undressing Ayo with his deep black eyes.  Jack steps forward, pulling his portfolio of drawn trading cards out of his haversack.  "My lord, these pieces might take your fancy.  They are mortal artwork from the world of Gaia, drawn by my own hand."  Athux looks over Jack's work, sniffing disdainfully.  "Yes, they are quite pathetic, actually.  I shall take them all and burn them for my amusement.  Does that sound a worthy fate for the expression of your soul?  Yes, I thought so."  The son of Graz'zt examines the rest of the party's wares with similar disdain.  "I will take the whole lot, and you may now call your expedition to my father's beautiful city a success.  I do believe I shall burn the whole lot.  It is an unworthy tribute indeed, but I offer you free and unfettered passage in exchange nonetheless."  Demon minions approach, relieving the party of their trade goods. Acacia shrinks back against Rockbounder, making herself smaller and less noticeable.

 

"One last thing, dear lady," Athux smiles at Ayotunde.  "I have heard many tales of the sacred whores of Gaia.  Would you perhaps be interested to indulge my idle curiosity about your... more advanced techniques?  I have heard that some of you carry marks of service to your decadent goddesses or other powers, and I wish to unclothe your flesh and explore your secrets.  You would not be... permanently damaged by my minstrations."  Ayo meets the eyes of Athux again, trembling with forbidden desire, but resists his call.  "As much as that would please me, lord, we yet have pressing business here in your father's city.  Perhaps another time."  With a small sigh of disappointment, Athux steps away and calls his retinue to heel, leaving the party and their guide alone in Ghallenghast.  Raxivort emerges from his own hiding place, calling forth a large dire bat mount with a whistle.  "Well, that was close!  We'd better head to the ovens double-quick, people."  He mounts the bat and flies ahead.

 

A short walk across the layer of long shadows finds the party at another set of massive greenflame ovens.  Again, they dive headfirst into one of the ovens (selected after some head-scratching and indecision by Raxivort, who assures them that he knows exactly where he is going).  The trip is similarly uncomfortable, burning and scorching the heroes' flesh, but this time Altaer achieves his goal while traveling through the liquid fire-tubes.  He gets a brief glimpse of the entire system, a tangled weave of greenflame in a twisting fractal pattern beneath each of the three layers of Zelatar, connecting and binding the whole transportation network.  This insight allows the flametouched sorcerer to avoid future damage while traveling through the greenflame network.

 

At the end of their second jaunt through the ovens, the party arrives at last in the 47th layer of the Abyss, and the third and deepest layer of Zelatar: Darkflame.  Here, a pale blue sun shines and all flames burn with a cold blue and purple flame, rather than the hot red-orange of natural fire.  Even magical weapons are thus affected, and Ayo's flaming longspear shines with a cold purple flame as she emerges from the ovens.  Darkflame is the most well-appointed and richest layer of Zelatar, home to countless lamias and shadow demons who watch the party's passage carefully from the shadows.  Known as a haven of assassins and agents of Graz'zt, Darkflame's air holds a constant chill and the shadows reach out to grasp at all hope, extinguishing it into utter darkness.  Raxivort leads the six companions through twisting alleyways and eventually to the Viper Boulevard, a posh district containing many inns, upscale taverns and exotic brothels.  Raxivort chirps excitedly.  "Ah, you see!  I have brought you here as promised.  The Sign of the Black Heart!"  Ayo notes that her find the path spell does not indicate this as a correct destination.

 

The inn is built in a square around a central courtyard, making access from the ground easy to control.  Acacia scouts out the area, noticing that all doors leading into the inn proper are built within the courtyard, beyond the common room and tavern where the offices of registration lie.  Infiltrating such a place will not be easy, she reports to the others, and all agree to take a more direct approach.  Tipping their derro guide generously, the heroes depart Raxivort's company and enter the common room of the Sign of the Black Heart.  The public room looks deceptively ordinary, though it is lushly decorated in black, purple and red silks and leather.  A well-stocked bar tended by a handsome tiefling in a black tabard with white embroidered hearts stands next to a wide grill, on which tasty meats sizzle under the care of another tiefling cook.  A third tiefling attends to the needs of a coiled, serpentine lamia noble in a dark corner. 

 

After Kaelin engages one of the tiefling porters in a hilarious punning contest -- which the tiefling gets the better of -- she and the others are ushered upstairs to "confirm their reservation" with the porter, Cloaca.  They step into a well furnished room of stone and dull metal, dimly lit by a single candle burning on the porter's desk.  The porter himself is roughly humanoid, but it drips green ooze from puckered skin, the slimy droppings hissing when they splatter on the floor.  Jack quietly warns the others that this porter is an alkilith demon -- strongly magical, and with speed to match, it is one of the most feared species of demons in the Abyss.  By the flickering candlelight, the porter opens a large ledger in front of it, and speaks into the heroes' minds: "I am called Cloaca.  Is this a delivery, or do you have a booking?  This inn is reserved, serving our most private and exclusive patrons."  The alkilith consults its ledger, flipping pages.  "I do not see a pre-booking for your party.  Inkheart and Sable must be summoned.  Perhaps an arrangement can be reached."

 

A moment later, two shadow demons emerge from the dark corners of the porter's room.  They speak in a hissing whisper.  "Greetings, honored guests.  We are Inkheart and Sable, proprietors of the Sign of the Black Heart.  You wish to obtain a room reservation?  Very well.  The sheet below lists our booking fee, courtesy charges, and room deposit.  We would be more than happy to have your business."  The party reluctantly pays the exorbitant fees, handing well over 3,000 gold pieces over to Inkheart and Sable.  "Very good, sires," whisper the two shadow demons.  "Your reservation slip, if you please, masters."  Inkheart, the male shadow demon, hands Kaelin the slip.  As she looks down at the reservation, Kaelin's eyes narrow, realizing she and the other have been fleeced!  The reservation is for four days in the future, Maia 25.  Yet Dawnat Sanp, the ambassador of Orcus whom the party travelled here to meet, is known to be leaving in a mere two days!

 

Knowing that they will only call attention to themselves by making trouble, the heroes politely depart the porter's room and return to the common area.  After bribing and conniving the demons therein, they eventually make the acquiantance of two succubus courtesans who create a small distraction, allowing them to slip into the private chambers near the inn's Garden Suite, where Dawnat Sanp is currently residing.  Approaching his door, they hear a thin, rattling voice dripping with sarcasm come from within.  "I told you -- no visitors!"  Jack speaks the passphrase given by Rule-of-Three: "Life is fleeting, but death endures."  The door swings open, revealing a large suite with an iron bed frame and leather bedding, on which sits a large bone snake: the bone naga ambassador Dawnat Sanp, of the realm of Thanatos.  "Yes, you have found me indeed."  The ambassador's body sways slowly and the bones of his cobra's hood flare out.  Deep within his eyesockets, two red motes of light glitter with malicious intelligence.  "So, I have heard from our mutual acquiantance Rule-of-Three that you intend to return to the Demonweb and work more mischief, yes?  Then I have information and a gift for you."  The bone naga draws out a golden silk invitation and hands it to Kaelin.

 

"This little slip of paper is nothing less than an invitation to the Demon Council from Lolth herself, mortals.  You should feel most privileged to even hold such a bauble, for it allows nearly unfettered access to the Demonweb for those who present it to Lolth's guardians.  Only a platinum key is a more valuable commodity, yes... In any case, my master Orcus does not wish to see the Abyssal Pact concluded according to Lolth's wishes, and therefore any disruption you might cause will only be of benefit to us.  The politics of the Abyss are complicated and ever-changing, yes?  I have heard rumors that even the Prince of Demons himself, Demogorgon, will be sending an aspect to attend.  He, Kostchtchie and many others have much to gain or lose with the completion of the Pact.  Too, I have heard that the cursed obyrith lord Obox-Ob, a former Prince of Demons, shall also be in attendance.  It is a most interesting time to be involved in such doings, yes?  So, you must also have the precise date of the Demon Council?  I see this is much desired information?  Then you should know the Council will begin a bit more than five weeks from today, on your Gaian date Nerida 24. I urge you to visit the Demonweb at that time and destroy all creatures of Lolth, and to disrupt her Pact."

 

The undead naga ambassador draws himself up to his full height, his bony cobra's hood flaring out again.  "Now, I believe the time has come for you to go away.  Do not draw excessive attention to my position, as I too have risked much in coming to this thrice-accursed city.  Graz'zt does not suffer the presence of servants of my great lord Orcus lightly.  Depart quietly as you came, and there will be no more trouble.  I assume you can find the door," he concludes sarcastically.  "Perhaps if you are skilled or lucky, I will see you again at the Demon Council."  Dawnat Sanp indicates the door with his bony tail, gesturing that their meeting is now concluded.  The party politely departs as requested, returning through the gardens and passing through the outer gates into the streets of Darkflame on Viper Boulevard.

 

As they emerge from the exclusive inn, the companions see Graz'zt's six-fingered son Athux waiting for them outside the Sign of the Black Heart with an even larger retinue than before.  His eyes are narrowed, and his black skin is slightly damp with perspiration.  He seems agitated and also somewhat unhappy, unlike the mockingly polite Athux the heroes met in Ghallenghast some hours ago.  The half-drow demon warrior draws his bastard sword, leveling it at the companions.  "Well now, gentle wanderers,  It seems we have a problem.  I have been informed by reliable sources loyal to my father that one or more of you bear the Mark of Bahamut upon your mortal flesh.  This is a capital offense in Zelatar, as you are no doubt aware.  Allegiance to celestial powers is punishable by a torturous death.  It is a shame, really, that you turned down my offer of sensual hospitality earlier.  It might have made your passage somewhat simpler.  In any case, I am now bound by the laws of my father and of this city to hunt you down and slay you all.  Yet, I am ever my father's child, and I do SO enjoy a good chase.  Now off with you!  Flee for your lives, as I cannot hold back my demons for long.  They, too, long for the hunt.  It would certainly be a terrible shame if you were to escape my clutches before I could carry out my father's orders."

 

Seeing their opportunity -- regardless of why Athux seems to be offering a fighting chance at life -- the six companions flee Darkflame under the influence of Altaer's haste spell.  Athux, true to his word, holds back his slavering hordes for several minutes while the party takes a head start.  However, before long the city of Zelatar itself seems to come alive in pursuit, and a massive wave of hundreds or thousands of demons of every shape, size and color chase the heroes through the streets.  Athux's mocking voice can be heard above the din: "Hunt them down, in the name of my father Graz'zt!  None must escape!"  Even as he screams these orders, Athux's voice maintains a tone of sarcasm and irony, as if he has no intention whatsoever of seeing the party captured on his father's orders.  

 

A gang of six lion-bodied male lamias soon catches up with the heroes, their feline limbs giving the lamias unnatural speed and agility.  Battle is quickly joined, and a serpent-like lamia noble joins the fray, tossing arcane spells across the streets of Darkflame.  Rockbounder, Jack and Kaelin charge ahead, their blades sweeping through the lamias' ranks, while Acacia fires piercing arrows from Thaas as her bowstring hums.  Ayotunde drops a flame strike upon one of the lamias, and Altaer burns their flesh with his own fiery magic.  The party bursts through the line of lamias, cutting the last down and rushing towards the great green ovens just as the lamia noble thinks better of her pursuit and flies away into the city to track down more demon pursuers.

 

Passing through the greenflame ovens, the heroes find themselves back in Ghallenghast, the layer which Athux is directly in charge of.  Unlike the demons of Darkflame, the legions of Athux's armies seem rather lethargic and reluctant to give chase, though they eventually do so in a half-hearted fashion.  As they dash through the long-shadowed streets of Ghallenghast, it becomes clear to the six companions that Athux truly has no intention of catching them, even though the wave of demonic pursuit behind them is growing ever larger.  Demons are demons, after all, and their chaotic and evil natures can only be held back by military order for so long.  Despite Athux's seeming discontent with his father Graz'zt's orders, many of the demon pursuers seem quite intent on savagely ripping the Gaians and Oerthers apart.  Yet Altaer's haste spells keep them just ahead of the main wave of pursuit, and soon the party passes by the Swordsmiths' Pit and through the greenflame ovens back to the upper layer of Fogtown.

 

With all speed, the party flees the ever-growing wave of demons in pursuit towards the Viper Gates which lead out of Zelatar and towards the banks of the River Styx.  There, some indeterminate distance from the city, they can plane shift away to safety, or else bargain with damned souls for a ride from the yugoloth barge-keepers.  However, standing between them and their goal lies a massive, teeming mob of demons: the army of Fogtown, also under the command of Athux.  Just as the heroes reach the inside edge of the Viper Gate, a drum-cadence begins along with the sounding of many horns: a mustering order for the Blood War!  The demon legions form ranks and march off across the muddy gray landscape, coincidentally (or perhaps not) drawing them away from the party's direct path towards the River Styx.  The companions dash through the Viper Gates, narrowly avoiding the snapping fangs of the viper trees, and find themselves on the main road leading away from Zelatar, towards the standing stones' hill and the Styx beyond. 

 

As they flee, a withering howl pierces the fog.  A charnel hound -- a huge hunting dog made of dead flesh and bones -- has caught up with the party and cut off their escape route.  It cries out in the Abyssal tongue, over and over: "They're here!  I found them!  Come kill them!"  Battle is soon joined, and the charnel hound proves to be a challenging foe indeed.  Jack, Kaelin and Rockbounder surround the undead beast, slicing it over and over as Acacia, Ayo and Altaer hang back and support their efforts with magic.  Rockbounder is savagely mauled by the hound, falling to death's door under its relentless claws and bites.  The hound attempts to absorb the goliath's body into its horribly amalgamated body, but even unconscious, his great fortitude is too strong to allow it.  The others finish off the beast and help Rockbounder back to his feet, but he is still somewhat disoriented by his near-death experience.  They look back to the walls of Fogtown to see an unbelievable number of swarming demons coming over the walls in pursuit.  Now trapped between the River Styx and a raging demonic horde, escape is their only option.

 

A few moments later, two powerful black-skinned giants carrying enormous swords emerge from the demon mob, sprinting ahead and casting spells of battle upon themselves.  Covered in Abyssal runes praising the demon lord Kostchtchie and the wizard Arbrozzar, the two giants take advantage of the charnel hound's demise to move into striking position.  From across the battlefield, near the banks of the River Styx, a single night hag with stringy hair and dark blue skin stands watching.  She pauses a moment.  "You know, those giants are the masters of that hound you just put down.  I can summon a ferry from the Styx, but it will cost you: the price is one soul, your own or someone else's.  Not really so much to pay to get out of the Abyss, is it dearies?"  Gathering their wits and courage, the heroes prepare the face the abyssal giant hunters and the oncoming horde, perhaps drawing steel together for the last time.

 

The Threefold Sundering