Session #07 - For Whom the Bell Tolls

After a rest the party worked on formulating a plan.  They considered using magic or holy water on the helm to see if they could nullify its evil powers, and even asked Reya if she wanted to try using it since she was a worshipper of Torm, an offer she firmly declined.  “I prefer my head remain attached, if you don’t mind.”

 

Time was still an important consideration and everyone was banged up from the fighting since arriving at the cemetery.  “Look, I know all of you, especially Reya and Almont, would love nothing more than to put an end to crazy Gideon upstairs,” Kent began, “but if gets tough we’re going to find ourselves seriously depleted.  I say we try to convince him to let us go on our way.”

 

Donyxn nodded at this.  “I sense that Gideon has been gifted with some kind of infernal magic.  We should be prepared to fight him, certainly, but if we can avoid doing so, we should.”

 

This made sense to Almont.  He looked at Reya, and the paladin nodded.  “Saving Elturel is our priority.  He’ll get his eventually, and hopefully at the end of my mace,” she said.  

 

“Well,” interjected Katla, everyone’s eyes turning to the elf.  “In that case, I have a plan.”

 

The details agreed upon, the party returned to the mortuary and the stairs leading up to the chapel.  Almont called out.  “Gideon, it’s us.  We return.  We’re coming up.”

 

“No tricks, priest,” came the reply, “lest you wish to incur our wrath.”

 

Almont rolled his eyes and proceeded up the stairs, followed by Katla and then the others.  

 

The mood was a bit tense as the party stood opposite Gideon and his two insect-like guardians.  It all had the potential to go wrong with just a few poorly chosen words.  Fortunately Katla was doing the talking.  She was incredibly calm and well spoken in the face of danger, a skill that had kept the group out of more than a few scraps.

 

“Gideon, we found the duke.  He managed to open some kind of portal down there, and that’s how the demons entered the ossuary.  We took his head, which caused the portal to close.  You shall have no more trouble with demons here.”

 

Gideon clapped his hands and rubbed them together.  “Good, good!  Though I am disappointed to not have one more batch to slay.”  

 

“Of course.  Aren’t we all?”  The elf smiled.

 

“But why should I believe you slew the duke?” Gideon asked, his own smile disappearing abruptly.  “Perhaps you are in league with him and here to stop me from raising my undead army.”  The pair of mezzoloths flanking him began to beat their wings even faster, causing them to bob up and down as they hovered.

 

Katla let the silence drag out for longer than anyone, including Gideon, was comfortable.  “We expected you to require proof, diabolist.  Donyxn, show him.”

 

With that Donyxn took a step forward and from under his cloak produced the duke’s sword.

 

“I’m sure you recognize this, Gideon.  You would have sensed its magical properties when you first encountered the duke.  And I’m sure know that he would not give up his sword willingly.”

 

Gideon considered this, stroking his chin absent-mindedly and drawing a thin cut along his cheek with one of his razor-sharp nails.  

 

“So the duke is dead.”  Gideon performed a mocking formal bow.  “Long live the duke.”

 

“Quite.  Though there is one thing we were hoping you might be able to help us with, Gideon.”

 

“Ask.”

 

“The duke appeared to control the portal by using a glowing helm that sat upon his head.  Do you know anything about this helm?”

 

Katla had clearly sparked Gideon’s interest, at the same time revealing that the evil priest didn’t know about the helm.  “I do not, I’m afraid.”  He thought for a moment and the disconcerting smile returned to his face.  “But I’m sure you didn’t leave it down there.  Show it to me and I’m sure I can help you determine how it works.”  

 

Gideon couldn’t conceal the avarice in his eyes.  “Alas,” Katla replied with mock disappointment, “when the tiefling took the duke’s head it fell into the portal, taking the helm with it.”

 

Gideon’s eyes flared bright purple with anger before he calmed himself.  “That is a great loss then.”

 

Another painful pause occurred as the two sides looked at one another warily.

 

“Well then, we best be off!”  Kent’s jovial proclamation actually started everyone in the room.  “Gideon, it was a pleasure meeting you.  Love to have a drink with you at some point, but for now we have other business to attend to.”

 

All eyes turned to the dwarf.  One of the mezzoloths spoke to Gideon in its buzzing infernal.  “We should eat them.”

 

As a tiefling Donyxn spoke infernal, so he wasn’t sure if the mezzoloth was so stupid it didn’t realize this, or if it simply didn’t care that he could understand what it was saying.  Given how dumb and fierce mezzoloths were known to be, there was an equal chance of it being either.  

 

Gideon locked eyes with Donyxn.  “Don’t be so rude to our guests,” Gideon said in infernal.  “We may have a use for them.”

 

“OK, yeah, so we have to go see a guy about a thing and all, so let’s go Donyxn.”  Kent smacked his friend in the back.

 

Gideon smiled and looked at the dwarf.  “Don’t be so hasty, my short friend.  I have a proposition for you.  You are clearly skilled warriors.  I’d like you to lead my undead army as we finish claiming Elturel for Zariel.”

 

Kent laughed heartily.  “Oh, I’m hardly the general type, marching around giving orders and such.  Besides, I wouldn’t exactly call that group bumbling around out there an army.”

 

Kent knew he’d chosen his words poorly even as they were emerging from his mouth.  Out of the corner of his eye he saw a thin vein pulse in Katla’s forehead as her jaw clenched.  Standing next to her Kent suddenly felt like the room was getting much warmer.  

 

“It’s true they are not yet an army.”  Fortunately Gideon seemed to have missed the jibe.  “But they will be soon enough.  And when they are, I shall need people such as you to lead them.”

 

“As the dwarf said,” cut in Almont before Kent could say anything else, “we have other business to attend to.  When will this army of yours be ready?  I’m sure we can come back to discuss it further.”

 

“A few days time is all.  I look forward to your return.  But don’t dally too long, or my army may kill you before we meet again.”

 

“Well, that’s just a chance we’ll have to take.”

 

With that the party left through the curtained entrance in the southeast corner of the room, emerging into a large area intended for worship.  An intact stained glass window along the west wall dominated the space.  It showed Torm placing a helm onto the head of a kneeling Lannish Fogel.

 

“I feel like we’re missing something here,” observed Almont, looking troubled.  “Some kind of clue as to how we can use the helm.”

 

“Maybe,” said Kent, “but I don’t feel like going back and telling Gideon ‘hey we forgot something downstairs, we need to head back down for a bit’.”

 

“No, nor do I.”

 

With that the party left the chapel via the main entrance.  Lola swooped down as soon as they emerged from the covered portico.  She looked pleased to see them, as she always did.  

 

“The three men climbed out of the hole around back,” she told them.  “They were alive, but yet dead at the same time.”  

 

“The purple mist…” Katla said quietly, clearly deep in thought.  She turned back to the group.  “If the mist is causing the dead to rise, and it has penetrated the ossuary…”

 

Almont finished her sentence.  “Then Gideon will have his undead army.”

 

They used Katla’s mage hand to remove the helm from the bag of holding and showed it to Lola.  “Do you know anything about this, Lola?” asked Katla.  

 

“I’ve never seen it before.  But I know of someone who might.”

 

This got everyone’s attention as it was the first time Lola appeared to have a useful piece of information.

 

“Mahdi.  He runs the Wandering Emporium.  He knows much about magic and artifacts.”

 

“Where can we find this Mahdi,” Katla asked softly.

 

Lola thought about this.  “I don’t remember.  But when I was here before, so was he.  Oh, and it moves.”

 

“Of course it does,” muttered Almont.  

 

Everyone was so caught up in the brief exchange with Lola that no one noticed the look that came over Donyxn’s face when the helm was removed from the magic bag.  It was a mix of longing, one that exceeded anything caused by an earthly desire.  It was something more.  Much, much more.  When the helm was returned to the oblivion that was the bag of holding Donyxn immediately snapped out of it, barely even recalling the yearning he felt for the helm.

 

With that the party journeyed to the Great Hall.  Lola provided aerial surveillance and guided them to the western approach to the hall.  As they traveled through the southwest portion of the city they were struck by the complete lack of living creatures.  Unlike the eastern and northwestern parts of Elturel, there were no cultists to be seen.  Nor were there any animals, birds, or insects for that matter.  They didn’t even encounter any undead or wandering devils.  

 

It was not, however, silent.  The straining of the rusted chains anchoring the city groaned as it was slowly, ceaselessly, pulled toward the plain of Avernus.  The giant spikes that anchored the city to the surface could be seen overhead, becoming more and more visible over time as Elturel descended.  

 

There was also the sound of distant fighting as the continuous battles between devils and demons played out on the plain below.  Metal clashed against metal, which melded with battle cries and death clamors.  Concentrating on the sounds was an invitation to madness.

 

Lola led the party to the collapsed west wall of the Great Hall, the forty-foot high walls reduced to twenty-foot piles of rubble.  The slope to the wall was also quite steep, making any approach by this route difficult at best and likely impossible for some party members given the strength that would be required. 

 

Fortunately they had magic.

 

In an effort to conserve resources, a simple plan was developed.  Katla, being the least able to climb, used her staff to give herself the same spider climbing ability Kent used so effectively at the cemetery.  Thus able to walk across any surface with ease she swiftly climbed the embankment and to the top of the rubble, Lola following her the entire way.  Once at the top she anchored a grappling hook attached to a length of rope that the others then used to follow her up.

 

Once atop the rubble pile they surveyed the situation.  What they were standing upon was at one time three closely arrayed turrets and the back end of the hall building itself.  It was clear there was no way inside the building from where they stood.  The most obvious option was the main northern gate, a route they had intentionally avoided thus far.  But the courtyard around the gate was devoid of life, and the gate itself wide open.

 

Kent sighed.  “Well, it was a good plan.  Time for plan B, I reckon.”  Everyone agreed and they moved down the rubble pile toward the gate.  

 

The main north entrance to the Great Hall was comprised of two twenty-foot high wooden gates.  The one to the left was still firmly closed, while the one to the right had been smashed inwards, opening into a multi-sided courtyard.  The gates faced the north wall of the hall, the main entrance to which was around the corner and out of view on the eastern façade.  

 

“Hellhound,” Donyxn whispered.

 

Everyone stopped just shy of the gate.  The beast was moving away from the gate, so it hadn’t seen the party.  They took advantage of the element of surprise, moving into the courtyard and attacking all at once.  The hellhound never knew what hit it as it absorbed a sacred flame from Almont, a pair of Donyxn’s arrows, and an Eldtritch blast from Katla in rapid succession, the last of which caused it to explode in a ball of gore.  

 

Just as they were feeling pleased with themselves the second hellhound came around the corner in a sprint.  Reya caught it with a crossbow bolt and Almont brought down a sacred flame upon it, but it was too fast to kill before it reached them.  It dove through the air at Reya, its mouth showing rows of sharp teeth and gullet glowing red-hot.  The paladin spun to the right like a bullfighter, the devil-dog flying past her with its head turned and jaws snapping.  It was dead before its feet reached the ground again, a pair of Donyxn’s arrows striking it in the heart.

 

“Easy work, that,” said Kent with a sense of satisfaction.

 

“We were fortunate there were only two,” observed Donyxn.  “They normally roam in packs of four or more.”

 

The dwarf looked at his friend incredulously.  “That would have been really good information to know before we attacked.”

 

“You never asked.”

 

With that they approached the front of the hall.  Leading up to the double doors of the main entrance was a massive rectangular granite staircase with a dozen steps on three of the four sides.  These ended at a sixty-foot wide landing.  Disconcertingly the front doors were wide open.

 

The opening was wide enough to allow the five warriors to enter abreast.  The entry hall was spectacular.  The main room was sixty feet square, with another pair of doors at the opposite end.  To the left and right the room opened into long halls with high vaulted ceilings.  Each hall was supported by four pillars standing in line.  

 

Four dead paladins lay in the entry, a combination of stab wounds and arrows signaling the cause of their demise.  Reya made a few gestures, bowed here head and whispered a prayer as the others spread out to explore the space.  There were no other bodies or obvious signs of battle.  

 

They did, however, make one very disturbing observation.  The eight supporting pillars were in the shape of arcs, two flat sides at ninety-degree angles and the rest a curved surface.  The eighteen flat surfaces were all engraved with scenes depicting Torm.  Or at least they were.  Because all eighteen were clearly warped so that while it was obvious they originally showed Torm, it was just as clear that the main figure was also Zariel.  To make it worse, they eyes of all the people shown in the engravings actively wept black ichor. 

 

 All of them could feel the weight of evil divinity within the space, smothering their minds like a heavy blanket of sorrow.  As they re-convened in front of the doors leading into the heart of the hall, Almont blessed them, which lightened the weight pushing down against their souls a little, but a hint of despair lingered.

 

They opened the next set of doors and entered the main part of the hall.  While everyone other than Reya expected the hall to be a secular building, it more resembled a cathedral. 

 

The room was expansive.  To the left and right a pair of freestanding spiral staircases led upwards to the choir.  Further along either side were small sub-chapels, spaces for individual reflection.  The light here was quite dim.  Some light entered from the open doors behind them, while a few torches cast muted magical glows. 

 

The opposite end of the room was a wall of floor-to-ceiling red velvet curtains, roughly twenty feet high.  The curtains were in three sections separated by two granite walls.  The stained glass windows were intact, though the faces seemed to follow the party as they moved through the space.  Everything about the building was unsettling.

 

The party dispersed to quickly and quietly reconnoiter the room.  When they came together again Kent indicated he heard some muffled voices along the north curtain.  They silently followed him back to that area and listened.

 

“What are we looking for?” whispered the first voice.  

 

“I don’t know, but keep looking,” the other replied, with more than a trace of fear.

 

As the footsteps faded away, the group headed to the north-most corner of the curtain.  Kent silently pulled it back and disappeared into the gloom.  The others followed, though Almont managed to catch the spiked end of his warhammer into the cloth, nearly pulling the entire thing down.  Kent simply stared at him and shook his head.

 

The end of the new room extended even further north than the nave.  Kent pointed to one of the small altars near the wall, and the others could just make out the dark shape of someone who appeared to be hiding there.  

 

As Kent took a step in the direction of the shape, the voice boomed through the hall.

 

“Welcome citizens of Elturel.”

 

While the acoustics of the room were designed to carry voices to the furthest corners, it was clear this one came from its center.  As the last syllable oozed its way into the room’s nooks and crannies, the magic torches increased somewhat in intensity making it possible to see across the length of the huge space.

 

They all turned as one to face the source of the voice.  In the center of the room was an eighty-foot oval dais of white marble, its circumference comprised of three steps leading to a raised platform.  On the east side of the platform, facing the central curtain connecting to the nave, was a large wooden pulpit fronted by the symbol of Torm.  Behind the pulpit was what appeared to be a huge bell.

 

But what stood upon the dais caught everyone’s eyes.

 

The creature had been squatting, but with the increased light it rose up on its hind legs.  It resembled a cross between a dragon and a devil, seven feet tall with bat-like wings and a long, languidly-moving tail.  The face was elongated and lined with sharp teeth, it’s alabaster skin taking on an almost mother of pearl quality in the faint magic light.  As if its clawed hands and feet weren’t enough, its right hand held a sword that was as long as the creature was tall.  Ringing it along the steps of the dais were a bearded devil and five purple-robed human cultists. 

 

“Donyxn, what in Avernus is that thing?” Kent asked out of the side of his mouth.

 

“No clue.”

 

“Albus Infernalus Draconius,” Katla said.  “A white abishai devil.”

 

They all turned to look at her.

 

“What?  You think Almont is the only one here who has studied the etymology and zoology of hell?”  She smiled slightly and raised both her eyebrows.  

 

The voice returned their attention to the devil.  “We are looking for the last of the paladins.  Have you seen them?”  It’s ‘s’ sounds had a quality about them like the sound of sizzling meat.

 

“You mean like this one?” Almont replied, pointing his thumb over his shoulder at Reya.  

 

“Yessss!”

 

“Too bad.  She’s with us.”

 

While this witty repartee was happening Katla was summoning her wild magic and before Almont’s last word stopped echoing throughout the room a ball of lightning flew from her hands and struck the abishai in the chest with a crackling sound, scaring its white torso with black streaks of burned flesh. 

 

The abishai lept up with amazing speed, its wings taking slowing its descent as it covered half the space between the dais and the party.  “Kill them, kill them all.”

 

With that bearded devil and four of the five cultists charged across the room.  The remaining cultist ran through a curtain at the back of the room. 

 

The abishai appeared to be the most dangerous of their foes.  Almont struck it with a blast of energy while Donyxn hit it with a pair of arrows as it charged towards them.  It attacked the tiefling with its sword, landing a glancing blow.  

 

“Why do you fight with these humans?” it asked in infernal.

 

It then tried to rake the ranger with its claws, but Donyxn seemed to move as if he knew precisely what the beast was going to do. 

 

“Only two of them are humans,” he corrected as he jumped backwards and struck the abishai with yet another arrow.  “And the flying one is a hollyphant.”

 

As it was distracted with Donyxn, Almont attacked the beast’s flank with his hammer and mace, landing a blow with the former and missing badly with the latter, taking him off-balance in the process.

 

Meanwhile Kent used the speed of his magic boots to circle around the left side of the fray and his pistol crossbow to fire bolts at the bearded devil.  Katla also turned her attention in this direction, blasting the abomination with ball of lightning.

 

Reya moved forward and waded into the cultists, swinging her mace with the surety of a lifetime of practice, caving in the skull of one and crushing the ribs and sternum of another.  

 

As the battle raged the fifth cultist emerged from behind the curtain and pointed in their direction.  With that a pair of hellhounds leapt into the room and charged towards the fray followed by a slowly ambling dark shape.  Things were about to get interesting.

 

The bearded devil reached the side of its abishai master and the duo battled at close quarters with Almont and Donyxn.  The cleric and ranger were holding their own and would likely come out victorious, but not without taking some significant damage.  

 

Kent reached under his cloak and removed one of his magic crossbow bolts, notching it as he dropped to one knee.  He cupped his left hand under the grip of the weapon to steady it as he slowly squeezed the trigger with his right.

 

Almont’s arms were raised above his head, his warhammer and mace crossed in an X which caught the downstroke of the abishai’s sword.  The contact made the bones in his arms vibrate painfully, only the magical properties of his weapons preventing the blow from cleaving him in half.  He was so focused on the sword that he failed to see the devil had ducked its head and was lunging toward his exposed left torso with its teeth.

 

It was both a perfect attack move and a fatal mistake.

 

Kent read the abishai’s intentions.  His bolt raced across the space in less than a second, flying under Almont’s left arm and striking the devil in its onyx-like right eye.  The bolt penetrated all the way into the abishai’s brain.  It froze for a moment, shuddered, and then fell dead.

 

Almont immediately turned to face the bearded devil, striking it with his warhammer at the same time Katla hit it from another angle with a bolt of Eldritch energy.  As it tried to recover and staggered towards Almont once again, Donyxn planted an arrow into the side of its skill to kill it.

 

The party was now split into two groups.  Kent and Katla advanced towards the dais while Almont, Katla, and Donyxn remained back near their original position.  The hellhounds split apart, one attacking each group.  The problem with hellhounds, other than their obvious size, strength, and speed, was that they also could spew flame, which they did much to the dismay of Katla, Donyxn, and Kent who all received burns from their scorching breath.  

 

The hellhounds were vicious but they were also outmanned.  One exploded after taking multiple Eldritch blasts courtesy of Katla, while the other suffered a series of wounds before succumbing to Almont’s warhammer.

 

Off to the right side of the dais Reya battled the remaining foe, a hunched-over merregon devil.  The creature had a reach advantage with its seven-foot-long glaive, but Reya was no stranger to these situations and the pair traded blows.  

 

With the hellhounds slain, Donyxn turned that direction and let fly an arrow that passed over Reya’s shoulder within inches of her ear.  It caused her hair move as if caught in a strong breeze.  In that moment her righteous expression and swept hair lit by the magic torchlight made here look angelic, like an avenging valkyrie sent from the heavens to destroy evil.  

 

The arrow finished it’s flight embedded in the merregon’s left shoulder, knocking it off balance and turning it slightly so that it failed to see Kent coming up behind it.  As the beast re-set itself and prepared to lunge forward in a new round of attacks Kent sliced open the side of its throat with his scimitar.  Black ichor shot out from the gash as it reached up with its right hand in a desperate attempt to close the wound.  The merregon fell to its knees, then onto its side as it expired.

 

The battle over, the room became quiet again.  

 

Kent turned to the north end of the room.  “You can come out now, whoever you are.  It’s over.”

 

With that a thin figure poked its head up from behind a small altar at the end of the room.  It surveyed the scene before standing slowly and limping towards the group.

 

The man was older, probably in his 60s.  “We came here looking for safety…”

 

“We who?”

 

“There were four of us.  The other three are… oh Torm… I can only hope they’re dead after the screaming I heard from them.  I was able to run, but I knew I wouldn’t get far…”

 

Reya strode to the man.  He fell to his knees when he saw the paladin.  “We thought you were all dead.”

 

With that she put her hand on his head and infused him with healing energy.  “Rise.”

 

“You’re on your own, friend.  Find a place to hide and stay there until we can return Elturel to where it belongs,” said Almont.

 

He looked to the cleric who was already turning away, then to Reya.  She nodded to him reassuringly.  He looked down, sighed, and headed toward the nave.

 

They turned their attention to the dais.  The heretics had defaced the front of the altar, but the bell looked pristine.  It was also the strangest looking bell any of them, other than Reya, had ever seen.

 

The bell was fifteen feet high and ten feet in diameter.  It was shaped like a simple tube closed at the top and open at the bottom, and it hung above the dais without obvious means of support.  It simply floated in the air, its bottom five feet above the top of the dais.  

 

As if that wasn’t enough, the bell appeared to be made out of impossibly thin porcelain.  It looked as if it would break if someone so much as looked at it, let alone struck it.  

 

“What’s this nonsense written along the bottom,” Kent asked. 

 

Donyxn came over to take a look.  “Agh, the words burn my eyes,” he said turning away.

 

The rest of the group converged around the bell.  “It’s celestial,” Almont said.  He walked around the bell.  “It’s a riddle.”

 

“Oh, I do love a riddle!”

 

“It fills the room, but takes up no space.  It can be seen, but never heard.”

 

A few guesses were made but quickly discarded.  It was Almont who came upon the answer.  He said something in celestial, and the words began to glow, followed by the bell itself.

 

“What did you say, Almont?” asked Katla.

 

“Light.”

 

The bell continued to glow with soothing light but remained silent.  Almont removed his warhammer, remembering it had been blessed by Illmater.  As Reya saw him step toward the bell with his hammer she shouted.  “NO!”

 

Almont turned to look at her, then back at the bell, which he very gently tapped with the warhammer.

 

With that, a soft humming sound echoed from the bell slowly filling the entire space and bathing them all with a sense of calm.  The sound continued at a steady pace and volume, soothing in its consistency and wiping away the sense of gloom they had experienced in the entry.  

 

After what seemed like minutes but was really seconds, there was a clicking sound under the altar.  A moment later it slid to the side, exposing a spiral staircase leading down.