Somewhere between the meta of the real and the unreal, a vision appeared of a purple stone. The Obsidian Bay gang have been hanging out in the VR laboratory of the Wizard’s guild lately. Ian is researching ways to restore Mordenkainen’s mind and has organized adventures based on items that hold memories of his amazing life. An old pair of socks have been used as objects for legend lore to work its deductive magic on. From this spell, Ian has organized a fantastic adventure for the gang to play out as if they were the legendary team of wizards, cleric and fighter. There are secrets to be found in this mystery. As the OC crew lift their heads out of the Helms of Virtual Reality and prepare to eat, they all see Ian joyful and triumphant.
“I’ve got it.”
He raises his fist triumphantly.
“You’ve happened upon the first warlock.”
He takes the helm from Cain and sets it down on the arm that holds it, allowing him to raise up from his resting position.
“That’s why this is important, this is much more than wizard training. You are all discovering something precious about the world that Mordenkainen created by his discoveries.”
He stands up and looks around the room.
“Don’t let what I am telling you interfere with your reactions in a meta way. Just try to survive the encounter. Mordenkainen already did. Your persistence has allowed me to arrive at an amazing revelation. You are witnessing the first of the Warlocks in the Faerun. In the time that this was created, there were no Warlocks. I can tell you that where you are going is leading you toward an amazing discovery of how the Warlock operates.”
“This might not mean anything to you, but when I was watching over your training, I realized that what is happening here is significant in more ways than you might care to understand. If you do, pay close attention to what you are seeing play out in front of you. The enemy that you are engaging does not know what it is that they are doing, but what they are doing has incredible implications for how we relate to the fiends that operate just outside our plane of existence.”
Ian motions to leave.
“I just wanted to see your faces when you stepped out. Live your experience as if it were the very first time. Someday, we might restore the mind of the mad mage. Thank you for your excellent work. I know how real it feels in there.”
Mordenkainen led his team into a beautiful dungeon. With one arcane move, doors opened that would not open for anyone else.
Somehow the friends all survived a few rooms in this adventure that was specifically meant for Mordenkainen.
Hopefully they remain as lucky.
Madame Eva was very mysterious. We heard about a wizard, who was charismatic, raised an army, but fell 1000 feet in battle with the devil Strahd. Every story that the gypsies told seemed to speak directly to our party. In the end, we found that we could not decide between friend and fiend. The lands of Barovia have been under the control of Strahd for too long.
Ari was amazed at this thing they called a comic book. He couldn’t believe the title when he read it. “How to level up your werewolf form in a super-meta way”. This comic book thing perfectly captured something he was totally worried about at the present moment. The leveling up stuff made no sense. It talked about hit points and things in a way that didn’t seem necessary at all. What he understood is that he had to fight. He had to fight with another werewolf. He had recently found out that he was sleeping in the same cell as a werewolf. Somehow this excited him because he realized that he didn’t have to feel shame about what he knew he was around this person.
He knew he knew more than he was admitting to himself for at least one murder more than he was letting on… to himself. At least in the backstory that he could remember. It is all easier to remember when he simplifies it.
All of a sudden, things became too meta and he found himself waking up into his cell, looking at Everard sleeping across the room. For as long as Ari was willing to remember, he feared the thought of leaving himself alone with another human being.
He knows his innocence is a lie woven in fey magic to protect him from the truth. He can fiercely fight as a creature from another part of reality as if it were an extension of him.
And he likes it.
He likes to know that he is alpha. Everything needs to know what alpha is, and He is it.
“Yes you are, Ari.” The Inquisitor says.
Ari looks up at the Inquisitor, and asks
“This is the part where I go to sleep, right?”
Mahaziya and Lostivius walked around the city. Mahaziya was looking for an interesting cult. Lostivius knew of a few cults and some rumors. The Cult of People who Give People Dirty Looks has terrible leadership and is especially vulnerable. It’s members are cult cultists, they hang out with cults that are new and jump from cult to cult with regularity.
The Cult of the Eternal Flame seemed interesting. They made their way there and met Murnau. He was interested in knowing more about Horus. He invited them to his next bonfire.
He also mentioned something about a wounded red dragon that they were interested in. She had recently laid eggs, and the cult was offering a reputation contract for anyone who could secure the eggs. Making new Dragon Knight hatchlings available for the cult would buy a lot of power.
The blade, the chain, and the book. Somehow, these mundane objects found incredible significance in Mahaziya’s life. She was closing a deal with an arcane antique shop. Myathethil, the shopkeeper, needed some silken textiles of a certain quality that Mahaziya was expert in providing.
A large dagger caught Mahaziya’s eye during their negotiation. Myathethil was quick to notice her interest and offered her a story about the fiend Mammon.
“A covetor of Mammon’s left these items with an incredible story of their value. I didn’t pay him what he was asking, because I know that Mammon has fallen out of favor ever since the reckoning. None of the archdevils trust him… But that doesn’t matter to someone like you, a master of the aesthetic. The blade is of rare quality, with a snake head carved into the haft of the weapon. There is a chain that connects the sheath to the wearer, and the sheath is shaped exactly like a small book. There are words in this book that I can’t decipher, I would have to find a covetee of Mammon, and I have yet to find one here in the underdark. Cult followers are fickle, even though they claim lifelong devotion with every other breath.”
“I would be happy to offer this to you as a sweetener to our arrangement. The sliken tapestries that you provide are second to none, and I think a woman like you would feel powerful with a blade like this at her side.”
Mahaziya couldn’t argue with her offer, and she had already gotten what she wanted in her negotiation. At this point in her life, she cared more about having a weapon at the ready than any story about a failed arch demon. Everything in Myathethil’s shop had an interesting story, but she didn’t care about them.
A man had recently left her life, in a most uncomfortable and awkward way. Elvish males are adolescents for 100 years, it would appear. He left making threats, while expecting her to need his protection. As her fingers wrapped around the snake head of her dagger, she felt safe and complete with this new found trinket from a collectibles shop.
She found a new fierce independence in her work after this point. She realized how a man had kept her from being completely focused on her work. Her outfits were never complete without the addition of her chain, book, and blade. She found a way to hide the weapon on her body, while wearing more and more revealing clothes. This was no small accomplishment with a tool that measured 13 inches from tip to haft. Hiding it gave her an advantage on anyone who might try something on a woman of her slim stature. Holding this instrument in moments of indecision balanced her mind and inspired her to remember that she was capable of deciding between life and death for anyone who crossed her. She gained muscle memory every time she designed her outfits, her hand could find the dagger in a heartbeat, and make an attack in another. If one hand could grapple, the other would have a blade against any man’s throat. Daily meditations, sitting silently became mental dojo’s, programming her body to be a weapon that held the dagger as the tip of someone else’s spear.
Somehow the thought of being someone else’s spear terrified her when she first happened upon it. It scared her and yet she did not want to reject the blade. Instead, she took the blade to bed. The thought of her taking one step away from her new found friend overwhelmed her with carnal desires. Instead of running from this new power, she wanted it closer. If this is hers, she also belongs to it. She had managed to keep her bed free for over three moons, and something had shifted inside of her. Now her relationship with the blade had become passionate. The snake head haft was more manly than any man she had ever experienced. The blade on the other end gave her more independence and power than any man had ever given her, and she wanted more. Somehow she knew that her momentary pause had hurt, damaged, wounded the snake that she had become so fond of having with her. A strange, arcane ritual had awoken in her mind, sexual in nature. She wanted to be bound by the chains, she wanted to know what was in the book, and she wanted that blade to be a part of her.
She took the chains and lashed her elbows together, the chain grew tighter. She placed the book within her mouth, and bindings wrapped around the back of her head. The haft of the dagger felt warm, soft and firm. She could feel the desire throbbing inside of it. For an hour she gave herself to fantasies and primal manifestations of sex that no man has ever given her.
She moaned Mammon, Mammon, Mammon. The blade orgasmed and her fantasies came to rest. It was clearly an orgasm. She could feel it. The chains released and the book fell out of her mouth, covered in her desire. She could see and smell juices that were not hers covering the snake’s head. Something was growing in her. A new power had awoken as well. After meditation, she realized that could cause force damage at range at will. And she was pregnant.
When Mahaziya awoke in the poorman’s guild, there were prayers made, meditation, and breakfast. All the conversation was about a new stranger in town, Horus. He made himself known to Master Gilbert as the god Ra in the flesh. He claimed to be the creator of the universe. Master Gilbert applauded his devotees for performing beautifully while accepting his incredible claims as factual. He spun the story into a warning against falling under the trappings of the ego. His story demonstrated how the spiritual practices that they follow are protection against the overwhelming power of the ego.
“He has chosen a path of suffering if he continues as he does. Beware that we do not fail this clearly enlightened being in this moment of decision that he has found himself in. He will continue to find rejection by those who are confused by his incredible claims. Hopefully we may serve him in some small way, just as we serve anyone who presents themselves to us. Even though he is arrogant, he is now a child of this city, just as needy as the orphans in the caring cudgel. Hopefully we can lead him to the path of service. It is the only way to avoid the trappings of the ego.”
Mahaziya heard something in this story that inspired her to seek out this man. A devotee of Gilbert’s was dispatched to lead this very pregnant woman to the glowing Aasimar in the Welcome Wench.
Horus didn’t find any new devotees while drinking in the Welcome Wench. He drank his fill of Goodberry Mead and was assisted to bed by Gundigoot.
The next morning, a beautiful moon elf presented herself during breakfast, recognized his brilliance and arranged to have him moved into a house that Gundigoot could provide.
Horus had finally found a real devotee. He was on the path of recognition that he deserved.
Chastity found herself in the Griffin District, playing her usual con. Unfortunately for her, the man she made didn’t need another woman as his beard. Her attempt to pick his pocket sent her sprawling across a busy intersection. She dashed away, ducking for cover multiple times until she found herself hiding in a trash can. The guards watching over the only exit to the city proper will be watching for a goblin girl, posing as a gnome. The future is looking bleak for this green, yellow eyed beauty.
In the Amble Theatre, Kendrick prepares himself for his performance as a goblin in tonight’s “Death of a Merchant”. Instead of applying makeup to make himself look more like a goblin, he applies makeup that looks flawed. He places a rubber nose exactly like his nose on his nose. He is nervously hoping that the audience or the other actors accept that he is a gnome, playing a goblin. The truth of his goblin self must remain a secret hidden within his performance within a performance on the stage of his life. At that moment, he wonders where Chastity is; she never misses the show.
Plirt is busy with his royal court. His kingdom requires attention at every waking moment. It is important that he maintain order and discipline, or dogs will become cats, cats will become dogs and nothing will mean anything anymore. He fantasizes deeply about the future of his kingdom while the single member of his court rubs his feet.
“We are worth 500GP, Beetlebum. This is only the beginning. Our kingdom will multiply. All I need is my queen.”
“Yes, master… but we are hiding out in ancient ruins, and you have a 500GP bounty on your head.”
“Don’t forget that any of them will be happy to turn you in for that bounty! Those light lovers can’t tell the difference between any of us. All they want is someone to blame for the fire that destroyed the Orc Hunter’s Guild. Someday, Beetlebum, you will understand my grand plan. Do you understand the power of fame?”
“Less talking, more rubbing, Beetlebum”
Somewhere on the docks, a human rogue considers his future. He has made some coin killing someone for a tough gang, and he thinks that finding a goblin hiding in Obsidian Bay might be the next big thing for his future. 500GP could buy him some respect….
We had a fun afternoon planned, training with the Kuo Toa. Instead, Giant Frogs and Giant Toads jumped out and attacked Ashen. Lazarus the Necromancer placed a bounty on Ashen’s head and the Banderhoob tried to collect. The Banderhoob thought the Kuo-Toa would help him in his nasty business, but they didn’t. They were not inclined to help him, especially after the archpriest scryed his intentions and discovered his truth.
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