Session #09 - Maggie I Wish I'd Never Seen Your Face, I'll Get Back Home One Of These Days
As they finished preparing to leave the Great Hall, Almont approached Pherria. “You seem to know some of relics. Do you know anything about the Shield of the Hidden Lord?”
“No, I cannot say to have heard of such a thing,” she replied. The expression on her fact told Almont that perhaps something was being left unsaid.
“Speak your mind, priestess. Our ability to save Elturel may depend on it.”
“To use a powerful artifact in Avernus could be highly dangerous, as we saw with the helm. It may not behave as it would on the material plane. Tread lightly, Almont Bonecrusher.”
Almont nodded. He hadn’t told Pherria they had the shield safely hidden away in the nullifying space inside the bag of holding, but she clearly surmised as much. And it wasn’t that Almont was in any hurry to remove the artifact from the bag – the last time it was exposed it began whispering evil thoughts in his mind. However, prior to their departure to hell the archmage Sylvira told them it contained a powerful pit fiend, and the cleric couldn’t help but wonder if a deal could be made with the infernal beast. The risk was existential. But these were hardly normal times.
Reya was already speaking to the rest of the party as he returned. “… foray out to the Shield Hall to connect with the paladins and refugees hiding there, and bring them back to the Great Hall. This is a more defensible space. Should you return to Elturel, you can look for us here.”
Everyone said their goodbyes to Reya and Pherria, then headed back up the stairs and walked out of the Great Hall and into the courtyard. Lola told them the chain attached to the northwest corner of Elturel would be the closest to their eventual destination of Fort Knucklebones. This didn’t make intuitive sense since she originally told them the fort was to the northeast.
“That’s because Elturel is turned ninety degrees. What is north with respect to the city is east with respect to the plains of Avernus,” she advised in her high-pitched voice.
“Of course it is, how silly of us to not know that,” deadpanned Kent.
Lola smiled, nodded, and fluttered her wings.
With Lola serving as a flying scout the party made it swiftly to the chain while avoiding any potential threats – they were sure to need all their strength for what was to come.
This was the first time they had seen the anchoring chains up close, and it was disturbing. A corroded metal shaft was embedded into the ground just outside the city wall. Ten feet in diameter and forty feet tall, it had a large loop at its top to which one of the chains connected. The chain itself was massive. Each rust-covered link was thirty feet long and twenty feet wide, each piece of metal five feet thick. Large barbs protruded from the links. The length emitted a sound that was a combination of metal-on-metal screech and tension, blending together in a way that eerily resembled a human scream.
The length of chain, like most of those around it, was pulled taut and led to a similar shaft down on the surface. If one could safely traverse the chain they would find themselves on the plain of Avernus.
Kent looked over the edge and looked back at the party. “Donyxn, remember that idea I had about parachuting to the surface?” The ranger nodded. “Well forget about it. I don’t want to land in that mess down there.”
When the rest of them looked over the edge they could see the battle raging below. It was difficult to pick out details, but one army appeared to be fending off wave after wave of the other. The din lacked the sharpness of close quarters combat, instead a cacophony of noises blended together into something even more disconcerting.
“That was your plan? A parachute?” Katla asked.
“I didn’t say it was a good plan,” he mumbled.
“Let’s do this the easy way, shall we?” With that the sorceress touched each of them with her spider staff. “No point in floating when you can just walk.”
The staff conferred on them the ability to walk on vertical surfaces as if they were on the ground, so traversing the chain was not difficult. Lola flew behind, easily keeping up and remaining close to Katla as she typically did.
The journey only required a few minutes thanks to the staff. As they got closer to the ground it became easier to pick out details, which did nothing to improve the situation. Below them the river Styx flowed from north to south. Eltruel was anchored above a bend in the river.
It also became hotter and more difficult to breathe, the combination of sulfurous fumes and fine grit in the air surrounding them in an irritating haze. Only Donyxn was unaffected, his infernal physiology perfectly adapted for this environment.
The battle unfolded below as they progressed. To the south a muscular devil stood upon a large flat stone holding a standard and barking orders at the other devils arrayed in front of her. Her voice was clearly female, but still quite painful to the ears of those who didn’t speak infernal. She commanded a group comprised of bearded and spined devils, as well as one of the much more frightening bone devils like the one that almost killed Kent at the Shield Hall.
They were making short work of a wave of demons spilling from the barge beached on the bank. Dretches, scorpions, and other unnamed monstrosities charged headlong into the waiting line of devils who grinned evilly as they ripped the attackers apart. A few devils fell under the sheer number of demons, but the residents of Avernus clearly had the upper hand. That being said, another barge was about to land alongside the first, and another could be seen coming around a bend in the river.
The fighting was near the bank and to the west of the party as they reached the bottom of the chain. Neither the devils nor the demons paid the small group any mind as the dropped down to the ground from the last link of the chain, their feet touching the sands of Avernus for the first time. Donyxn reached down and picked up a fistful of the grit, smelling it as it slipped through his fingers.
The Styx represented an eastern border to what they could see. To the south were elements of the devil army. Due north along the banks the land rose, appearing to crest a hundred or so feet above the water, or whatever it was that actually made up the Styx. There was a footpath that ran north-south a few hundred yards to their east. The plain beyond that was dominated by a volcano spewing smoke, and further out still were various hills and mountains.
“Inviting, isn’t it?” asked Kent.
“It is. It’s beautiful,” replied Donyxn, missing the sarcasm in his reverie. “And the smell is intoxicating.” He breathed deeply.
Kent shook his head. “Damn you tiefling, you and your infernal nostrils.”
Lola came down to eye level. “Fort Knucklebones is to the northeast. We should head there straight away.” Off in the distance to the north could be seen some kind of flying swarm, which clearly spooked the hollyphant.
“I say we head north first. Let’s get to that high ground above the river and see what we can see, then head to the fort,” Kent suggested.
Everyone agreed that this was a reasonable course of action. The trail was lined with what appeared to be dead trees made of dark metal, roughly twenty feet tall and spaced out every fifty feet or so. While that was unusual in and of itself, the disturbing part was that each tree appeared to have a body impaled upon it, and some of them were moving. As such it was decided to follow the riverbank and not use the somewhat easier-to-navigate trail. They still had their spider climb abilities, and no one wanted to deal with whatever was happening with those tree-like things.
Almont’s mace began glowing as soon as they reached the ground and didn’t dim at all as they walked north. There were clearly undead about.
About half way to the high ground Donyxn stopped, his eyes following one of the distant swarms. The tiefling had admirable eyesight, which was further enhanced by the magic goggles he wore.
“What do you see, Donyxn?” Katla asked. “What are they?” The elf’s voice betrayed her fear of flying things.
“They’re like giant wasps,” replied the ranger. “And they don’t look friendly.”
They watched as the swarm dove down at yet another demon barge, laying waste to perhaps half the passengers in their first pass as denizens of the Abyss screamed and fell into the cursed river.
As they came to the high ground they saw four of the metallic trees clustered there, each with one unfortunate soul impaled on it. Three of the four looked to have been paladins once, though how long ago that was remained unclear. All were helmetless and they still wore at least parts of their armor, though the metal was corroded and caked with blood, ichor, and the red sand of Avernus.
They were strung up in different fashions. One had a branch-like spike protruding from his throat and two others protruding from his outstretched arms. Another was wrapped up in what resembled thick cords of vines liberally festooned with six-inch spikes that pierced his armor and held him fast. The third hung upside down, his feet merged with the branch from which he hung. Each moved slightly, though none made eye contact or any attempt to communicate.
That is, none except for the fourth.
“Travelers, can you help me,” rasped the voice.
The speaker was an elf, his porcelain-white skin making his glowing red eyes stand out that much more. It was clear from his fine features that he had once been quite handsome, and even now with his matted hair and stained clothes he maintained a certain regal bearing about him.
The elf was impaled and held in place by a spike that emerged from the center of his chest. It was the thickness of a man’s arm and curved upwards, jutting out about two feet. His arms were held fast as well, each with a pair of smaller curved barbs penetrating the skin. Despite the savagery of the crucifixion, no blood wept from the wounds.
The party formed an arc around the elf hanging above them, his feet about three feet off the ground.
“My name is Jander,” he said, his jaw set with the effort. “I was placed here by a devil and by Zariel herself. If you will take me down, I will tell you my tale.”
The name he gave matched the one crudely etched in the tree below his feet.
“This is where the strung up the hellriders,” Lola said softly.
They all turned to look at the hollyphant, including Jander. “Your friend is right.”
“So how did you come to be here, elf? You don’t look like a paladin,” Almont said.
“Take me down, and I shall tell you.”
Almont pulled Lightbringer from the loop on his belt. He held it up in his right hand, its skull head glowing brightly. “My mace seems to think you are undead, Jander. What are you?”
Jander thought about this. “I think I am a vampire now, but it’s hard to be certain. What I do know is that so long as my body remains attached to this tree, my soul is stuck in Avernus and I cannot find peace.”
Almont considered Jander’s words. “Donyxn, help me take him down. Kent and Katla, be ready to destroy him if he does anything that makes you even remotely uneasy.”
Kent unsheathed his scimitar, holding the shining blade up to his face as he admired it. “Gladly.” Katla began to slowly weave shapes in the air with her hands.
Given Jander’s smaller size and emaciated state it wasn’t difficult for the human and tiefling to remove him from the tree. His wounds made wet sounds as the metal barbs passed through them, and the stench that emerged was sickening.
The laid Jander out upon the ground and he told them his story. Many years prior Zariel led an army of hellriders to Avernus with the goal of cleansing it of both demons and devils. Jander had good relations with the hellriders and felt their cause worthy, so he joined them. It quickly became apparent that Zariel underestimated the opposition and her army splintered. Jander was with a group of paladins who thought Zariel to be dead, so they returned to Elturel and told of her demise. When Zariel returned from Avernus she was clearly not the same being she had been previously. She made it a point of seeking out those who abandoned her, bringing them back to hell and impaling them on the trees of woe.
With that Jander’s body began to dissolve into the ground. “Thank you…” he whispered as he ceased to exist.
Almont began to say a brief prayer but it was interrupted by a booming voice from back the way they came.
“You have freed a hellrider. One of you will need to take his place.” The male voice spoke clearly in formal common and seemed to echo, which was strange given that there was nothing for the sound to bounce off of.
The party turned to look back down the slope. Three hundred feet away sat a black armor clad warrior on a massive warhorse. The warrior’s plate was covered with spikes and upon its head was an ornate helmet sporting a pair of curved ivory horns. He held a flaming lance in his right hand, its tip pointing to the sky in a ready position. The steed was also partially clad in armor, orange flames emerging from its eyes and nostrils. A metal bit was lodged in its mouth, attached to which were chains the rider used as reins. Dangling from the saddle and from the studded collar around the horse’s neck were an assortment of skulls from different races.
“I am Aruman, and you owe me a soul.” With that, the warrior spurred the horse. It reared up on its back legs, then charged forward as the rider lowered his lance.
Donyxn placed four arrows in the ground, setting up a cordon and infusing it with magic that would allow the arrows to launch themselves once the rider came within range. Kent rushed forward in front of Donyxn and set his immovable rod parallel to the ground and suspended about two feet in the air. The dwarf clearly had a plan, though its nature wasn’t obvious to the others.
The rider was still too far away for Almont to strike, so instead he reached into the bag of holding and withdrew the jar holding the small gelatinous cube. They still had not figured out the purpose of the device, but the cleric hoped that if he removed the cube from the container that it might revert to full size and give the hellish rider something additional to contend with. He stepped forward, removed the cap and while holding the jar made a throwing motion. The cube, which was about six inches on each side, flew forward about thirty feet and landed on the ground wetly where it sat and began to ingest sand.
“Really? That was your plan?” Kent asked incredulously as he tied a rope to the rod.
While the pair bickered Katla stepped forward and cast forth two Eldritch blasts. One went wide, but the second struck a glancing blow on the rider’s pauldron.
“Your soul will be the one I take, witch.”
With that a new metal tree emerged from the ground to their right, rapidly expanding to full size. On its trunk was a name. Katla.
The horse slightly changed directions and was now charging directly at the elf. Kent ran to the newly sprouted tree and tied the other end of the rope to it, setting up a sort of tripwire in front of the sorceress the horse would need to navigate.
As the warrior came within a hundred feet of the party, they all unleashed ranged attacks. Almont struck the rider with a guided bolt of radiant energy, and at almost exactly the same time one of Donyxn’s arrows struck true. Katla conjured up a bolt of chaotic thunder that blasted the devil, knocking it backwards in its saddle. The rider only remained mounted because of its vice-like grip on the chain rein.
His work with the rope and rod done, Kent withdrew his pistol crossbow. The dwarf was never one to pass up the opportunity to insult a foe. “I’m going to build a table of bones to hold the lamp I’m going to make from your skull,” he roared as fired. The bravado was muted by how badly he missed the shot, the bolt striking the ground a good twenty feet in front of the charging horse. Kent swore in dwarvish as he stowed the crossbow and drew his scimitar.
The hell knight was almost upon them now. Almont struck the rider with another bolt of divine energy while Donyxn put another arrow into it. Katla conjured a thunderous chromatic orb and once again blasted the rider, but he continued onward. The sorceress retreated to the backside of Jander’s tree while Kent and Almont, who had now drawn his warhammer and mace, positioned themselves on either side of the horse’s path intending to strike it as it passed.
“I’m going to make your horse grind grain for us,” Kent shouted, both hands on his scimitar as he prepared to strike.
As the horse easily jumped over the rope Kent set in front of them, two of the arrows Donyxn stuck in the ground launched themselves, one striking the rider and another the horse as they passed by.
The horse never slowed as it came upon Kent and Almont, and they were caught off guard by the speed of its attack. It should have been impossible for the rider to strike each of them with a single lance, yet it did, the flaming weapon seeming to be in both of the warrior’s hands at the same time. The rogue and cleric were both knocked backwards by the strikes, tendrils of flame dancing at the edges of their wounds.
With that the warrior leapt from the horse, which vanished before their eyes, and it continued to Jander’s tree. Almont recovered first, charging the creature from behind and landing heavy blows with both his hammer and mace. As he struck it a pair of Donyxn’s arrows passed just under Almont’s right arm, both finding their mark.
Katla peeked around the tree just long enough to hit the striding warrior with another Eldritch blast before retreating again.
“You cannot run from me elf,” its voice boomed as it reached the tree with single-minded determination.
Kent dashed forward and struck the creature on the left side with his scimitar. With that it stopped and turned to him with its eyes aflame. “Run away dwarf, run away,” it said, its eyes growing even brighter.
The color drained from the dwarf’s face as he staggered backwards, the scimitar dangling at the end of his fingers as he dropped his guard. Then it struck him, swinging its lance and easily landing a blow on the stunned dwarf, a gash opening across his chest. The momentum of the strike continued as the warrior circled, going down into a crouch and landing a similar strike on the onrushing Almont.
Almont roared as the lance burned him, the unexpected change in direction causing his warhammer to connect with nothing but air, the swing aimed at the head that had been there just a moment before. But by crouching low the warrior exposed itself to his second strike, and the skull head atop Lightbringer glowied brightly as the cleric brought it down on the abomination’s head, crushing its skull.
The body began to burn within its armor, unleashing a terrible stench as the infernal knight ceased to be.
A shriek from Lola startled the party. “I feel like there is power growing in me!” Katla looked concerned by this outburst. The others just shrugged it off. Lola had never shown any kind of power before, and she tended to say some crazy things, so her pronouncement seemed irrelevant.
Kent released the immovable rod and stowed it with his gear. He and Almont both imbibed in healing potions to partially restore them after the battle. Once again Donyxn escaped unscathed.
“You know, you do have a magic sword, Donyxn. You could join us one of these times,” Kent chided.
The tiefling grinned and continued retrieving his arrows.
The view from the high ground revealed more demon-filled barges floating down the Styx from some kind of base to the north on the river’s west bank. Definitely a place to avoid.
With that they headed east toward the mountain range where Fort Knucklebones was to be found. The walk was exhausting. How long did it take? They couldn’t tell, there being no night in Avernus. The wind, grit, and heat sapped their strength, with the exception of Donyxn who had a spring in his step the entire journey.
After a seemingly endless walk a dark shape appeared on the horizon at the base of the mountains. As they got closer they could see the shape resolve into a wall of sorts. It wasn’t made of stone, but instead comprised of piles of metal debris of all shapes and sizes. Shafts like those anchored to Elturel meshed with cogwheels the size of elephants, the gaps covered over by pieces of armor and lengths of chain. There were even some trees like those the party saw by the river thrown in for good measure. Three ramshackle towers dotted the wall facing the party, one on each corner and a third above the gate.
Lola became more animated, almost vibrating with anticipation. “This is it. This is the place where those bird-people were,” she sang.
Red shapes bobbed and moved within the towers.
When the party got to within a hundred feet of the gate a voice from the center tower hailed them. “Approach and state your business!”
Kent stepped forward. “Hello, friends! We’re on a mission to save Elturel and were told we could find some help here.”
With that four heads popped up over the tower wall. Each wore a red hat upon its head, which rose about a foot high before bending and limply hanging to one side, as if they were socks from a much larger creature. They then ducked back down and conversed with each other.
A few moments later all four heads reappeared. “What’s the password?”
The four adventurers looked at one another, and then at Lola who spun rapidly in a couple of circles but didn’t provide an answer.
“Um, knucklebones?” replied Kent.
The four heads disappeared again to commiserate before again popping into view. “Wrong. What’s the password?”
“Oh of course, my mistake. It’s Zariel, right?” Kent smiled.
Once again, the heads went down. The discussion was longer this time, but the result was the same. “Wrong. What’s the password?”
“This is ridiculous,” muttered Almont as he reached into the bag of holding. He rummaged around for a moment and when he withdrew his hand it was holding a bottle of elvish wine.
“That better not be one of my favorites,” Katla said quietly.
Almont ignored the comment. “Look, we don’t have the password. But we do have this bottle of elvish wine that you can have if you let us in. I’ll bet there isn’t another bottle of elvish wine to be found anywhere on Avernus.”
The heads disappeared once more, but this time the conversation in the tower became more intense and louder. Only one head emerged this time. “We’re opening the gate.”
Almont smiled.
The gate was comprised of two metal doors, each almost twenty feet high. Inset into one of them was a smaller opening, this one the size of a standard door in a human dwelling. This was this door that opened. Nothing emerged to greet them.
When the party entered they were met by what appeared to be four small old men. The tallest was perhaps four feet high, the other three half a head smaller. All were adorned in metal boots, leather pants and jerkins, and those ridiculous red hats. Unruly shocks of white hair stuck out from under their hats and all sported busy beards. They were armed with battered but still quite dangerous looking sickles.
The tall one stepped forward and held out its hand in what was obviously not a greeting but instead a demand. Almont stepped forward and handed it the bottle of wine. With that the four of them scampered away and immediately began pushing, shoving, and menacing one another with their sickles.
Donyxn thought it prudent to shut and bar the door behind them. They were in hell, after all.
Fort Knucklebones appeared to be roughly three hundred yards square, though its dimensions were far from regular. The walls meandered from tower to tower, forming seemingly random angles. The triangular spaces found along some sections showed varying efforts at construction, with some partial walls and lean-tos. Small groups of creatures similar to the four who originally greeted them (now three, as one of the smaller ones was killed during the debate about how the wine would be shared) moved in and around these spaces, occasionally engaging in shouting matches with groups from other parts of the wall.
In the middle of the open space stood one very large building and a handful of smaller ones. The large structure was constructed of a combination of stone and metal, its sheet metal roof a good thirty feet high. It was about a hundred yards square. Three of the walls were solid while the fourth had three openings, each fifty feet wide. A deafening cacophony of metal-on-metal emanated from the openings. The smaller buildings were similar in construction. Between the buildings and the outer walls were piles of metal debris of various size, each seemingly controlled by a band of the red caps who picked through it looking for useful pieces.
No one seemed even remotely interested in the newcomers.
They began walking towards the large building, forming a line four across with Lola flying alongside Katla. As they approached a red-capped creature raced out of the center opening. Initially they thought it was simply another of the beings they encountered at the wall, but this was obviously something different, deformed. This one was hunched over, its jaw distended outward like that of an animal, its mouth lined with fangs. The red cap it wore came down to cover much of its face with two holes cut out for the eyes. It held a piece of metal close to its chest with its left hand, a battered sickle in its right. In pursuit were three of the more human-like red caps. They raced past the party without a second glance.
The party continued to the large building and entered through the center opening. None of them had any prior experiences that helped them understand what was happening inside.
A dozen vehicle of various sizes were spread throughout the space. They were recognizable as vehicles because of the wheels, but these were of sizes and shapes that didn’t resemble anything they’d ever encountered before. The vehicles looked to be in various states of repair or, in many cases, disrepair, with small groups of red caps moving around purposefully.
Alongside the largest, a pair of humanoids with wings fluttered as they attached a piece of metal.
“Those are the bird people and that is the vehicle from my vision.” Almont instinctively pulled the warhammer from his belt.
The two bird-like creatures turned to look at them. They then swiftly flew off to a corner of the building where a separate walled off area stood.
“And now we wait.” With that Donyxn removed his pipe and tobacco pouch, putting a small amount of the brown leaf into the bowl. “Katla, got a light?”
Katla walked to the tiefling and extended her right index finger. A small flame emerged. Donyxn smiled, his silvery eyes reflecting the flickering flame as he lit his pipe.
Kent gave a chuckle while Almont continued to stare at the area to which the creatures had flown. “Lighten up Almont. I’m sure you’ll get to smite something soon enough.”
Almont didn’t take the jibe as an insult. He needed his friends to keep his worst impulses in check from time to time. Otherwise he’d have died a long time ago.
A group emerged from the far corner of the building and approached. The two bird-like creatures were there, as were seven of the red caps, their sickles out as they walked in front. Behind them came a pair of hellish oddities.
The larger of the two was a ten-foot tall monstrosity that, like the vehicles littered throughout the building, seemed to be made up of a random assortment of parts that didn’t go together. The legs looked to be like those of a bone devil. One arm ended in a clawed hand, the other a lobster-like pincer. Random patches of skin were sewn over parts of its frame, some looking to have been recently added judging but the redness around the crude stitching. Its head wasn’t from anything they’d ever seen before, generally round but it was hard to tell if there was skin covering it or if it was simply bone. Jet black eyes were deeply sunk in two sockets, and where eyebrows should have been were gazelle-like horns.
They all stared at the thing as it approached, its gait offset by a limp.
“This is Mickey.”
Everyone turned their attention to the speaker, the old hag standing next to Mickey. She held a thin chain in her hand attached to a metal ring embedded in Mickey’s hip. “And I’m Mad Maggie.”
She looked at each of them in turn, her eyes landing on Lola last. “My goodness, where did you find this little treasure?”
Katla’s hands started to glow as the hollyphant edged closer to her.
“Not yet,” Almont said quietly in elvish without averting his gaze from Maggie. Katla didn’t reply, and the cleric could still feel the heat coming from her.
“You don’t remember me, do you Lola?” Maggie smiled, then cackled, displaying a mouth missing a number of teeth, those remaining small black stubs. She appeared to be an older human, at least in her sixties if not older. Her build was stout and she was covered in layers of clothing. What looked to be the head of a massive ant hung at her waist, as did an assortment of vials and pouches.
The hollyphant shook her head.
Mad Maggie turned to Katla. “We found your friend wandering Avernus years ago. She stayed with us for a while, then we sold her to Madhi for 45 soul coins.”
The air temperature rose sharply.
“Sold. Her.”
“Of course. For 45 soul coins I’d sell just about anything. Anything except Mickey, of course.” She patted the creature on the thigh and it gurgled.
“And what is a soul coin?” Almont asked.
Maggie turned to the cleric. “What’s a soul coin? Clearly you haven’t been in Avernus for long.” She reached into one of her pouches and withdrew a coin-like object. It was roughly four inches in diameter. The outer ring was some kind of metal, while the inner portion was transparent crystal. There looked to be something black moving lazily about within the crystal. “We call ‘em soul coins because there’s a soul inside.”
Katla was appalled. “Can the soul be freed?”
Maggie looked at the elf as if she were the crazy one. “I suppose you could break it, but then it would lose its value and power.”
“We’re looking for the Sword of Zariel. Can you help us find it?” Donyxn asked in an effort to keep Katla from burning the building to the ground with them in it.
Maggie thought about this. “No, but I know someone who can. I can tell you where to find them. If, of course, you’ll do me a favor.”
“What kind of favor, witch?”
“The only kind that matters. The killing kind.”
Maggie explained that a swarm of hell wasps was hindering her efforts of the red caps to move material from place to place. The red caps didn’t use missile weapons, so they were easy pickings for the wasps. If the party were to return with four wasp heads as proof, Maggie would provide them with one of her smaller vehicles and a single soul coin, which apparently was used to power the contraption. Apparently their journey to the being that could help them locate the sword was too long to consider on foot.
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