The Ceremony Script
Victorio (ceremony):
“The contract, my Lord.” Victorio replies. “I have the payment to exercise the cancellation clause.”
“Indeed?” Asmodeus’ eyebrow rises in a challenging manner. “One short of a million dragons, and one short of a hundred souls, all within the space of a single hour?”
“Yes, it has all been arranged.” Lord Cassalanter assures the Archfiend.
“Then let us begin.” Asmodeus nods, his voice sounding almost… almost… impressed.
Lord Cassalanter nods to the robed figures standing around the edge of the circle, and they begin to gather those who are kneeling, bringing them to their feet and leading them toward the back of the room. After perhaps a minute, the line of cultists returns, each one holding a brown sack that appears to be quite heavy.
“Each of these bags holds a thousand dragons.” Victorio explains, to which Asmodeus merely nods. The first cultist steps forward, heaving the heavy bag into the greenish flames of the bowl. The flames flare, and the cultist steps away, even as the next one moves forward to repeat the process. The parade of cultists appears to be never-ending, a new one approaching with another bag even as the previous bag is thrown into the flames. You lose count of how many sacks of dragons have been sacrificed, yet it is evident that Asmodeus has not. His expression is calculating, and it is clear that he knows exactly how much has been paid.
Finally, after perhaps forty-five minutes, the last cultist approaches with the final bag. Lord Cassalanter holds up his hand, and the cultist stops. Victorio opens the bag, reaching into it, extracting a single dragon.
“A million dragons…. less one.” He intones, before nodding at the cultist to continue. The flames darken to a blood-red color as the final bag is consumed.
“An impressive feat, gathering this much coin.” the Archfiend acknowledges. “Yet that is not all that is required.”
From somewhere above you, a bell begins to toll. Once… twice… three times…
Ammalia (party):
Just before midnight, house servants begin moving through the crowd, offering goblets of a pale wine to the guests.
“Welcome, dear friends.” Lady Cassalanter says, standing on a footstool and lightly tapping her crystal goblet with a golden fork to garner everyone’s attention. “Victorio and I are so pleased that you could join us for our annual Founders’ Day gala ball. We have enjoyed seeing you all and spending time with you today, renewing bonds and forging new relationships for the year to come.”
Everyone smiles, clapping politely as Ammalia pauses in her speech.
“Founders’ Day commemorates the birth of Waterdeep, but even more, it commemorates we noble families who are the backbone of the city, funding its enterprises, providing its resources, and supporting those who wish to improve lives in our fair town. It is both a noble’s right, and responsibility, to rule, and you have all played your roles well. In Siamorphe’s name, I toast all of you, and the year to come. May all of your enterprises flourish and prosper!”
“Here, here!” The nobles raise their glasses, just as a bell begins to toll. Once… twice… three times…
“As the midnight bell tolls, the day ends.” Lady Cassalanter concludes. “As tradition demands, as the new day begins, I bid you all farewell.” She gracefully steps down off of the footstool to the floor, amidst polite claps and cheers. The house servants and guards begin slowly, but politely, moving everyone toward the front doors of the house.
CEREMONY - UNFINISHED
“Nice try, Victorio.” Asmodeus smirks, his tail whipping lazily behind him. “You haven’t completed the payment. And it looks like you’re just about out of time. The contract remains in place.”
“No!” Lord Cassalanter cries, his face stricken, his hand clutching at his heart. “But we had everything! It was all there…. It is all there!”
“I’m afraid that you’re short.” Asmodeus grins viciously. “You have delivered the gold, yet there are no souls…”
“But they were all supposed to die at midnight!” Victorio insists. “They all ate the food laced with midnight tears!”
“I can’t tell you what happened, only that their souls have not passed on, and are not mine. But there are two souls that will be mine…” The Archfiend leers, licking his lips.
“The sweet, innocent souls of your children will be mine for the feasting, in a matter of days.” Asmodeus laughs with pleasure, the sound echoing around the chamber. “And your pain shall make them taste all the sweeter.”
“But… my children…” Lord Cassalanter gasps, as if in pain.
“Come, now, you had no qualms regarding giving up your other son… Osvaldo, wasn’t it? Why is this any different?”
“Osvaldo was meant for you, my Lord.” Victorio attempts to explain. “He was cold, petulant, cruel. But Terenzio and Elzerina are innocent, trusting, good. They are a pure delight. I would do anything to save them.”
“Apparently not.” Asmodeus sighs in an exaggerated fashion. “After all, you couldn’t even complete the payment that would invalidate the contract, now could you?”
Lord Cassalanter can only hang his head in shame.
“But don’t worry, Victorio.” Asmodeus says magnanimously. “You and your wife are still my High Priests, and you shall rise to the position of Masked Lord, and later, Open Lord, just as was promised.”
“But…”
“I always live up to my end of a bargain.” the Archfiend laughs, his eyes sweeping those assembled before him. With a sly wink, he disappears in a flash of reddish light.
Lord Cassalanter falls to his knees, his expression devastated, his posture slumping nearly to the floor. Yet suddenly, he leaps to his feet, storming over toward you.
“No one here would betray us.” he snarls, waving his arm to indicate the cultists assembled there. “You! You’re the only outsiders here! What have you done?”
***Unless the party does something incredible, Victorio will attack, as will 6 bearded devil guards, the 30 cultists and the 4 tieflings (cult fanatics). Lady Cassalanter arrives at the start of the third round. (She is shadowed by the Black Viper? Jarlaxle?)***
CEREMONY - FINISHED
Asmodeus raises his face to the ceiling, his expression one of rapture and lust. His eyes close, and he moans with pleasure.
“Yes…” he hisses. “More!”
The Archfiend seems to stumble slightly, his fists clenching as he groans in satisfaction. “Ahhhhh….”
“Is the payment satisfactory, my Lord?” Victorio asks.
“Yes, most satisfactory.” Asmodeus smiles laviciously. “I quite enjoyed that. One short of a hundred souls, all at once… it almost makes up for what I have lost.”
“But the payment is complete?” Lord Cassalanter presses.
“Yes, the payment is complete.” the Archfiend agrees. “You have exercised the cancelation clause. The contract has now been voided.”
****The contract goes up in flames. If Victorio has it, he pulls it from his robes, so that it is visible to all, before this happens. If the PCs have it, then their robes show the flames (they do not hurt), giving them away. ****
Another figure in red robes enters the room, heading toward the standing figures at the back.
“Yet as this arrangement dissolves, so does your position of High Priest,” Asmodeus notes, “as well as that of your wife. Willifort Crowelle! Tissania Khyret! Come forward!”
One of the standing figures approaches, as does the late arrival. They remove their masks and throw back their hoods, revealing them to be the tieflings you know to be in the Cassalanters’ service.
“The two of you shall be my new High Priest and Priestess.” Asmodeus declares. “Sanctify this arrangement as you have been taught!”
Quickly and gracefully, Willifort and Tissania remove their robes, revealing their naked bodies underneath, save for the holy symbols around their necks. They descend to the floor, acting out the scenes depicted on the tapestries surrounding them.
Asmodeus laughs, the sound reverberating throughout the room, causing the stones to vibrate in unison with the movements of the new High Priests. The Archfiend slashes one claw across the inside of his forearm, causing blood to spurt out. The blood gushes over the entwined pair, yet they do not cease in their lustful actions.
“Wonderful…’ Asmodeus breathes, clearly taking pleasure in the sight.
When the ceremony is over, the pair rise to their feet, and Asmodeus places a clawed hand on each of their heads.
“Serve me well, and you shall be rewarded.” he instructs them.
“We shall!” they answer in unison.
“And with that settled, it is time for me to depart.” the Archfiend declares, his eyes sweeping those assembled before him. With a sly wink, he disappears in a flash of reddish light.
****AFTER THE CEREMONY****
Lady Cassalanter rushes into the hall, heedless of anyone else present. She throws herself into Lord Cassalanter’s arms.
“It is done?” she asks anxiously, her eyes searching her husband’s face.
“It is done.” Lord Cassalanter smiles happily, his hand reaching up to caress his wife’s face. “Terenzio and Elzerina are safe. Willifort and Tissania are now the High Priests of the temple.”
“Oh!” Ammalia’s knees buckle, and Victorio catches her before she falls.
“I’m so relieved…” she murmurs.
“As am I.” Victorio replies, kissing her.
“My Lord, we need to straighten up,” Willifort reminds him.
“Yes.” Lord Cassalanter seems to come to his senses, placing his wife back down on her feet.
Lady Cassalanter smiles at him, and then turns to you.
“None of this would have been possible without your assistance.” she says.
“And you witnessed the entire ceremony.” Lord Cassalanter adds. “While it is no longer my place to make such promises, I feel certain that should you wish it, Willifort and Tissania would welcome you into the Cult of Asmodeus.”
****If the party was revealed to have the infernal contract:****
“You had the contract.” Lord Cassalanter notes. This is not a question.
“And yet, you did not interfere, and allowed the ceremony to take place. You even witnessed the ceremony.” Victorio appears to be contemplating the issue. “I can see that you are devoted to my children. You did the right thing for them, regardless of the cost. It shall not be forgotten.”
****The party is asked to assist with the cleanup, which they quickly realize means picking up bodies from the lawn and dragging them down to the temple to be tossed into the flames.****
