28 - 5/2/22 : Headlong Flight

In-game Date: 27th-30th of Freyrmond, 3521     Faced with four days of preparation before the final act of Ambermantle's Enigma, the Red Spirits went about their business in what could very well be their last days alive. This sobering, tense feeling carried them through several tasks.   The party made an effort to inform Solauvaire that the true Fang of Aurinax was locked in the Vault of Dragons along with the stolen gold of Dagult Ambermantle. Solauvaire asked for them to retrieve it for him, so that the true power of the High Dragon of Revelmoore could be restored.   Yilani, planning for her possible demise, set aside a trust fund of several hundred gold for the Rat Catchers' future and entrusted it to Lif. Lif asked if it was better spent preparing for the trials ahead, but Yilani insisted that the children be taken care of no matter what. Lif acquiesced and agreed to keep the money safe.   Brooke decided to spend his time doing what he did best; throwing his cares away and partying as hard as possible. He went out in search of Erystian Demarne, a former classmate he had reconnected with during the gala after Zelem (in the guise of Captain Draen) had departed. After some time spent searching, Brooke ran into Erystian at the Balladeer's Eclipse. However, it soon became clear that it was once again a disguise worn by Zelem, and in fact had been on the day of the gala as well; Zelem had simply swapped personas after leaving the scene as Draen to observe the aftermath of it all, and had paid the original Erystian off to leave the area.   Brooke was hardly surprised and asked about Zelem's current activities. Zelem answered that he was observing the goings-on of the common folk of the city, who were unaware of the pandemonium about to descend upon the city during Fleetswake; he wanted to give himself a reminder of what he was fighting for, especially considering that the common folk never chose to be affected by noble struggles.   Offering an alternative to this dour observation, Brooke offered to let Zelem accompany him on his days-long bender before the final conflict. Zelem laughed and said that while he was not interested in inebriating himself into non-function, he would still be delighted to come along. The two departed into parts of the city unknown, intent on having whatever good time they could find.   Reilly decided to take care of an important task; speaking to Fala and coming to an understanding. Fala was initially reticent at Reilly's approach, but allowed her to help them tend to the plants for a time. Reilly told Fala that she had come to love the little section of Revelmoore that she found for herself, and that she was no longer afraid of the new world she lived in. She affirmed that she had to do what she could to keep it safe and help the friends she had made. In addition, she took the better part of an hour to give Fala the intimate details of the entire journey of the Red Spirits thus far, omitting only small details like her membership in the Masquerade.   Fala took a moment to process this information, and finally relented that they could not keep Reilly from doing what she did, because it was what she was meant for. They reluctantly accepted that Reilly would once again have to stare into the jaws of death, but insisted that she come back so that she could continue to keep Troll Skull Alley a safe and happy place. The two shared a moment of quiet before the storm, endeavoring to see each other once again.   A day later, Reilly gathered the owners and employees of Troll Skull Manor and made an announcement honoring the bravery of the Rat Catchers, but Jenks in particular. She commended him for remaining strong after his traumatic experience with the fireball and Renaer's injury while protecting him, and then offered him a gift; a custom-made, wide-brimmed hat of wizardry that was a suitable conduit for Jenks' growing magic talents. This gift was enough to restore Jenks' passion for magic when it allowed him to cast prestidigitation with a bit of effort.   On the 29th, a black letter imprinted with a golden 'V' arrived at Troll Skull Manor. When opened, it appeared blank until golden writing began to shine in the right light. The letter contained a short message...   "Remove the pin. We must speak. -V"   That night, the party did away with their magical protections from mind-contacting magic before going to bed, understanding that the message was sent by Veszaltyrr. As they awoke, they found themselves in the same dream; a vivid skyline view of a Dark Elven city built around a massive stalagmite. As they found their footing in the dream, they were indeed greeted by Veszaltyrr Oussndar, who greeted the party warmly.   The Red Spirits reacted coldly and demanded to know why Veszaltyrr had contacted them. The dark sorcerer replied that they would be shedding blood on the following eve, and that he wished for their to be no secrets between them; no uncompromising secrets, anyway. Veszaltyrr had come to respect the party even though their views were incompatible, and he merely wished to speak with them one last time before it all ended on the 30th.   Reilly took the lead and demanded that Veszaltyrr tell them why he was doing all he was; he began by cryptically looking into Reilly's eyes and remarking that he could see she was in love, and that it was a feeling not at all unfamiliar to him. Love, he said, was a powerful motivator, and that he doubted that Reilly would not do much different than he were love to push her into similar circumstances to those he had faced.   Veszaltyrr began by describing his early life in the city of Olath Luth'ol ("Dark Spear" in the Drow language) as a slave to a drow matron mother's second daughter, a position in which he was subjected to constant demeaning, abuse, and even abject torture in the fiercely matriarchal society dedicated to Lolth, the Spider Queen. After decades of living this way, Veszaltyrr seized an opportunity to run away when he was called upon to defend his city against illithid invaders. Taking his issued arms and armor, he fled into the depths of the Underdark with little survival knowledge to sustain him.   He spent weeks living on meager rations, fleeing horrific monsters of the Underdark and scouring the endless tunnels for meager foodstuffs like mushrooms and cave lichen. Soon he was on the brink of death, starving but free from his tormentors. It was then that he was chanced upon by a kind svirfneblin hermit named Zesala, who nursed him back to health in her home.   From Zesala, Veszaltyrr learned the basics of magic and Underdark survival. He discovered that he had a prodigal talent for magecraft that had gone un-nurtured, and progressed rapidly in his understanding of the art of magic over the next few years. Over this time, Veszaltyrr and Zesala grew close in their small mushroom farm out in the corners of the Underdark, eventually falling in love and committing to their simple existence.   Zesala taught Veszaltyrr to cherish the Underdark and its unique beauty, dangerous as it was. He learned to love not only her, but the crystal caves, the grand caverns full of glowing fungus, and even the vicious fauna that ruled the forbidden kingdom below the surface.   All would not last, however, and Veszaltyrr soon learned that the faithful of Lolth do not forgive those who abandon the cause of the Spider Queen. One evening after returning home, he found the small abode aflame, and within it Zesala, killed and butchered beyond any hope of resurrection. In a fit on unmatched rage, Veszaltyrr returned to Olath Luth'ol like a prodigal son, but instead of facing any judgment from his former masters, he retaliated against them with all the sorcerous might he could muster. Within hours, the city was ablaze, without a single living drow left within save Veszaltyrr himself.   The rest, Veszaltyrr explained, the party already knew. He departed deep into the Underdark to seek out a new life, hell bent on destroying all that Lolth had wrought. Eventually he discovered the Undermountain, a kingdom unto itself housing the most peculiar magics and creatures the Underdark had to offer. He endeavored to conquer it by gathering followers from the region and from Revelmoore, the city above, and starting his own organization dedicated to amassing power in and below Revelmoore; the beginnings of the Black Network. However, after considerable time as the Network's leader, Veszaltyrr disappeared.   Finding himself in Mechanus and daunted by yet another failure, Veszaltyrr embarked on a soul-searching journey. Soon he began to see the beauty in Mechanus just as he once had in the Underdark; its perfection rendered in brass, its order and law abound. He could see the two overlap in his mind, giving him a new crusade; to bring the law and order of Mechanus to the Underdark and transform it from Lolth's paradise of misery and pain into a citadel of perfection unmoving, unchanging. Only then, he thought, would Lolth's unending cycle of vengeance and death be broken.   Veszaltyrr committed the heinous act of stealing the core from Cygnus, a cog of Mechanus, causing it to stop spinning and throwing the entire plane into a brief state of disarray before Primus made the decision to eject Cygnus into the other outer planes, where it continues to sail as a rogue stellar body. The stolen core became known as the Heart of Cygnus.   Using his newfound power, Veszaltyrr returned to Revelmoore after centuries of absence to retake the Black Network and search for the Stone of Golorr, hoping to use it to uncover the lost gold of Dagult Ambermantle. The lost gold would be his ticket to buying, bribing, and blackmailing the nobles of the city into serving him, allowing him to turn Revelmoore's resources towards purging the Undermountain and giving Veszaltyrr the foundation of his new Brass Empire. However, the interference of the Red Spirits left him with only one option; following them into the Vault of Dragons and taking the treasure from them by force.   The party rebuked Veszaltyrr's motives, stating that even having lost all that he had, there was no reason to make Revelmoore suffer for his crusade against Lolth. Veszaltyrr swatted this aside, saying that he had come to explain, not to debate, and that his mind was already made up. One way or another, tomorrow would decide a victor, and Veszaltyrr merely wished to see the faces of his enemies before arranging their demise. With that, the image of Olath Luth'ol went up in a blaze, and the dream ended.   With the 30th of Freyrmond upon them, the party gathered their allies at the base level of Troll Skull Manor. Raeziel took charge of the meeting, stating that Xanathar Guild's scouts had already located the encroaching forces of the Black Network. The Red Spirits said their farewells to their allies and departed for the City of the Dead, leaving the defense of the manor and their route to the Vault in the hands of those they had come to call friends over the course of their journey.   Just outside of Troll Skull Manor, thugs of the Scions of Black Hearts approached the tavern, led by a pentadrone modron from Mechanus and a towering red dragonborn wielding a massive greataxe. Snarf, Zug-Zug, Vowyn Marblewander, Lily Conway, and Upstanding Gentleman held the line against the invaders, fighting their hardest to protect the place they now called home. As exhaustion began to creep in, a shout broke the din of battle; on the roof of a bathhouse overlooking the scene, Spite Maleficarius and Emmek Frewn emerged and proclaimed that no one would destroy Troll Skull Manor but them. Spite and Emmek joined the fray. Emmek mostly embarrassed himself, but Spite showed a surprising level of competency and incinerated several thugs with a single spell before the hulking dragonborn was slain by Zug-Zug.   Further down the route, a horde of modrons on a miniature Great Modron March descended upon a junction of several canals. In a central platform on the junction stood Vincent Trench, Embric, Esvele Rosznar (as the Black Viper), "Threestrings" Merreg, and Fala Lefaliir. The quintet defended themselves against Veszaltyrr's mechanical minions, but were pushed to the brink when a mage under Veszaltyrr's tutelage used a fire spell to incapacitate Fala and severely injure the others. Just as things looked their worst, Piece of the Puzzle himself leapt into the fray, accidentally attracting the attention of every modron in the alley while the trio of Davil Cedarfall, Yagra Stonefist, and Ziraj the Hunter charged the small army. The Last Charge of the Doom Raiders saw the alleyway protected, the mage slain, and Fala's life saved.   Further still into the city, Zephyr found herself surrounded by Clockwork Angels; deadly foes even for a young dragon like herself. Luckily for her, the Rat Catchers had taken cover nearby, coming up with a plan to save their friend while an exhausted Lif insisted the children retreat to the manor to keep themselves safe. The Rat Catchers ignored Lif's advice and charged into the fray, bringing their myriad unique talents to bear and somehow miraculously disabling two of the Clockwork Angels. However, they were truly saved when an unexpected duo emerged from the waters below; Kronk the Hill Giant riding atop Obliteros the Awakened Shark, who gobbled up the remaining angel that had not been incinerated by Zephyr's lightning breath. Kronk disembarked and happily addressed the children by saying "The Xanathar sends her regards".   The Rat Catchers' great victory would not be the end of things, however. As the Red Spirits clambored towards the walls of the City of the Dead, growing ever closer with each frenzied step, the ticking of the clock continued, and other figures converged upon the North Ward's temple of Thyr, God of Law and Justice.   It was all too quiet when Zelem stepped into the small courtyard, rapier drawn and mind on edge. The sudden rise in air pressure surrounding him and the raising hairs on his neck told him that this is it; this was where he felt that massive spike of magical energy that continued to reverberate throughout the North Ward to those sensitive enough to feel it.   Ruven crept into the courtyard as well, watching her boss' back with staff in hand. She felt more comfortable as it began to rain, more at home with the refreshing feel of falling water against her skin. Still, the anxiety was palpable.   Then, it happened; the conflagration. In a single moment, a confluence of flame and flying stone tore into the calm courtyard like a hammer to thin glass. The tranquil silence became a roaring inferno, an orchestra of crashing architecture and burning wood. Centuries of work in the name of Thyr, dozens of holy artifacts and sacred texts… gone in a moment, undone by a blazing meteor shot from the heavens.   Left in the center of the courtyard, now a blazing crater where congregants once gathered, was a drow man draped in white silks and sporting silvery hair past his shoulders. A brass helmet adorned his head, and his entire left arm has been replaced by a sleek, brass prosthetic. Flames circled around him with shielding intent, and the rain falling from above evaporated before it could do its work to extinguish pandemonium.   His red eyes seemed vacant, as if looking past the other inhabitants of the courtyard. Flames reflected upon his deadened orbs, this wizard now more a thing of Mechanus than a living being.   The stare-off between Veszaltyrr and Zelem, the silence as both contemplated their first words, was heavy and oppressive like a summer day… like a courtyard wreathed in flame and smoke. Just behind a nearby un-toppled wall, the city's newest guildmaster looked on with axe in hand. She was no stranger to what's going on; even not knowing the tiefling or the half-elf's name, she could tell that they were people of influence to stand before the Founder of the Black Network with such gall, such confidence.   The future of the city would hinge on this bout, and Raeziel would be damned if she wasn't going to have a hand in it. She was not just a Ramrider, or the Xanathar herself; before she rose to the top and redeemed her family name, she was a member of the Doom Raiders, a member of a found family, and the man before her represented the near fracturing of that family. This monster, this relic of the past that nearly destroyed everything. Remaining hidden, Raeziel loaded a bolt into her hand crossbow and exhaled slowly.   But there would not be just four. Just beyond the courtyard, another pair rushed to the now smoking ruin of the Temple of Thyr. A hand grasping a wrist gently but firmly stopped their flight just short of their arrival.   "Ember, I am sorry, but I can't leave them to that. I know I say I want nothing to do with this, and I don't, but I owe them everything. Without them, I never could have…"   Ember looked at Panic and held up a hand to stop her. "Panic. I know. I'm not stopping you. I just want you to remember… we have to come back. Above anything else, we have to survive for Valor's sake. When I think about what happened to me and my mother, and the possibility of it happening to her, I just… we need to be there for her, and we can't throw ourselves away."   Panic shuddered and clasped Ember's hand in three of her own, using the last to gently touch her shoulder. "Ember Vel, I swear to you here and now. Whatever crazed thing stands before us in that courtyard, it will not take us. Not today, not ever. But it cannot take them either. If there is to be any hint of goodness in this world, I cannot just let them throw their lives away for something as silly as gold. There is still time for them to find another way. They deserve that time, at least."   It took Ember a moment to swallow her reservations, and she finally chose to pull Panic into a long embrace. When she pulled away, the newly falling rain had begun to cause steam to rise from her burning mane of hair. "Alright. I guess I owe them too. And… I will never let you run into the fire by yourself ever again. No matter what the world throws at us, it will be against the two of us. Now… let's go before I change my mind."   Panic and Ember arrived in the courtyard just as another fiery explosion rocked the inside of the collapsing church. The new wound in the stone erupted with modrons and clockwork angels, which took to the sky to hold back the rapidly converging griffin cavalry. Zelem looked to the two Ladies of House Vel with alarm that he could not hold back, despite his insistence on maintaining composure. This brief pause prompted Veszaltyrr to speak.   "And so, we finally move from our spies tripping over each other to confronting each other directly. The grinning, devious idealist and the scourge from the Underdark, here to destroy all that the innocent surfacers hold dear." He pauseed for a moment to glare at Zelem, but continued quickly.   "I remember having the mind of an idealist, Jester of the South. When I escaped from my home of Olath Lu'thol and evaded the seeking eyes of the Matron Mothers, when I scrounged for cave fungus and narrowly avoided being torn apart by hook horrors, I would sleep soundly with the confidence that I could build a better tomorrow. Not necessarily through peace, but through hands that were ultimately kind. You remind me of myself during these times… before I burned Olath Lu'thol to the ground and saw the lights of the Matron Mothers' eyes burn out like dying sparks."   Veszaltyrr hoisted a brass orb into the air that floated gently above his metallic fingers. The object, so disturbingly perfect in its geometry and construction seemed to warp the very air around it, as if its flawlessness was incompatible with the natural chaos of reality.   "I sincerely wish there was a place for idealists in this world, Master Corvo. I long for a reality where the ends we work towards could coexist. Yet there is a universal truth; those unwilling to descend to the depths of their oppressors will find themselves at a grave disadvantage. To topple the tyrants of yesterday, one must become a tyrant of tomorrow, and forge a new truth with the power they gave everything to attain. Let this be your final lesson, Jester. Know that I take no pleasure in what I must do."   With his final word, Veszaltyrr stared down those who had gathered to stop him from reaching the Red Spirits. As our heroes delved into the Vault of Dragons, the future of Ambermantle's lost gold, and the futures of thousands of lives, would be decided by what would soon happen beneath the burning temple of Thyr...