Hook, Line and Anchor – 7.12.2021 – 'Tinuviel'
Dec 8, 2021 13:08:02 GMT
Grimes, Jamie J, and 2 more like this
Post by Delilah Daybreaker on Dec 8, 2021 13:08:02 GMT
Rolled into a hand sized tube is a piece of nondescript parchment written in a mix of common, symbols, elvish, and draconic, with a velvet pouch containing the remains of a mechanical bird.
ASSIGNMENT REPORT #18
People/Organisations of Note:
Oziah Daybreaker – holy(?) warrior, aasimar (fallen), female; mount: Deimos (skeletal, fiend)
Jaezred Vandree – mage (divine; Chosen of Lolth), noble, drow, male
Laurel Shortstride – nature holy warrior, halfling, nonbinary
Tazmuk – warrior, dragonborn (red), male
Pieni Sankari – nature walker, aarakocra, male
Sergeant Grimes – holy warrior, human, male
Alettranos – notary for the Lady of Pain, devil, male
Dabus – Lady of Pain’s interpreter(?)
Lady of Pain – ruler of Sigil
Langston Farstep – THE OUTLAW, versemaker, human, male (deceased)
Jack – THE FUGITIVE, hexadrone, male (deceased)
Locations:
Fort Ettin – Adventuer’s hub
Limbo – Location of the ‘Negotiations’ between the Outlaw, the Fugitive, and the Lady of Pain
Body:
FOR THE EYES OF QUEEN MIANDRA ONLY. DETAILS OF THE FINAL CONFRONTATION WITH THE OUTLAW AND THE FUGITIVE.
Our group – consisting of Vandree, Daybreaker, Shortstride, Tazmuk, Sankari, and Grimes – were those chosen to help the Lady of Pain at the “negotiations” table. Upon our arrival in Limbo we saw them in their time dilation, which afforded us only a small amount of time to decide what to do. The Lady’s Dabus sent out two symbols of a green arrow and an egg timer. Before we had fully decided on our plan of attack Tazmuk touched the green arrow and the time dilation the Lady, her aids, the Outlaw and the Fugitive were in, shattered.
The Fugitive knew right away what had happened, yet was very calm about it. The first clue that everything was not what it seemed. The Outlaw did what all versemakers are known to do – talk a lot. Sankari asked him why (NB: I thought everyone was up to speed with the information but perhaps the aarakora wasn’t paying attention when Vandree outlined everything before our departure. It is unclear.) and the Outlaw explained his motives as outlined in Assignment Report #17. The Orb of Souls was severely depleted at this point but without any previous knowledge on how full it had been before, there was no way to know how much power the Outlaw had left.
He then had the gall to offer us in on the deal – to become gods ourselves. Without knowing everyone in our group extensively, there was no doubt that all of us would have refused regardless – mostly for the coordinated effort of other groups of adventurers. One for each location for where the Fugitive’s machine was, plus an additional group dealing with Wild Magic surges in Daring Heights and Port Ffirst. If anyone had accepted they would have had to deal with not only those that refused but those two.
As ‘negotiations’ were breaking down, various people in the party either explaining or telling the Outlaw his plan was folly (NB: Vandree put it very well: “Power is a burden. You need the strength to carry it, or be crushed under its weight. You don’t have the strength.”), there was a last attempt to divide them. Mentioning Ceres, I asked “Are you so sure he won’t do the same to you, Jack?” The Fugitive, who had not joined the Outlaw in coming towards us with the intention to fight, merely winked at me – the second clue that everything was not as it seemed.
The Outlaw proceeded to use the ten remaining souls in the Orb to shield or block attacks, even negating such blows that would have been fatal. I would be lying if I did not say my blood singed with excitement at the dance we all did. But I couldn’t help but notice the Fugitive’s laissez faire attitude as his supposed ‘partner in crime’ was being killed in front of him.
I had always known on some instinctive level that Farstep, though a thorn in everyone’s side – and the murder of a most beloved person in this community in the Dawnlands – was not the real threat. Sure, he always wanted more, or to be more, and had proven he would be willing to use anyone and everyone to get what he wanted… but he has never been a prisoner. He was never truly at the mercy of those more powerful than him, and certainly not for centuries. Unlike Jack. It has always been Jack who was the true mastermind behind everything.
Interestingly, Sarkani admitted to having intentions to help the Fugitive escape all before his own plans had come to pass. Apparently the aarakocra also helped the hexadrone during the Amaranthine Games, though in what way I do not know. (NB: This was my first time meeting him, so I cannot say for sure if Sarkani’s too trusting, a ‘do gooder’, or not very bright. But someone with his level of power should be watched closely for such foolish actions which will be detailed further below.)
It was Vandree who got the final, killing blow on the Outlaw, thoroughly blasting his face into ash with a blot of divine magic. All of us heard the telltale clang of the deepest and unholiest bell of Farstep’s soul being claimed by the Hells.
But there was still the Mad Modron to deal with.
The Containment Seal I had seen the Fugitive steal from Primus Secondus had become the destabilizing switch he held like an executioner’s sword over the Lady of Pain. That was why the Lady did not move to act. The Fugitive proceeded to laugh at his now dead co-conspirator, surprising perhaps some in the party. It was when he laughed at Farstep’s foolishness in thinking it would take him a year to build the machine around the Anchor that I knew without a doubt what Jack had truly been building. And it turns out he recognized me, despite how I appeared. “I recognise those moves.” I was flattered and hoped he knew what it would mean then for him when the Final Dance started.
But it did not quite happen then. Instead, as the Fugitive revealed what he truly was – already a god – he brought out a mechanical effigy of the fallen versemaker, Faust Greyheart, whom Farstep had slain.
I am the very model of a deity mechanical
Superior to any archfiend or a lord elemental
I can recite most all lore arcane, divine or alchemical
To say my reach exceeds my grasp ignores all of my tentacles
I built machines to bind a quantum-planar anchor in a week
To rise above the rest, to be untouchable is what I seek
Your vain attempts to thwart me will leave you paddle-less up a creek
For I’m supreme in every way, a polymath god mecha-geek
My power cannot be described in newtons or in spell degrees
There’s none more cunning on the land, high in the air or ’neath the seas
Forever I shall reign on high creating new iniquities
There’s simply not a more destructive, deadly set of arms than these
So bow before your new god, I accept offerings ecumenical
I hardly need the gold, I invest heavily in all metal
Your fear is quite appropriate, I’m simply diabolical
I am the very model of a deity mechanical
The ensuing fight was brutal. It was the first time any of us had fought a god. It was thrilling seeing Tazmuk move at speeds that saw the gigantic body of Jack shudder, or to see Daybreaker’s fury manifest in radiant blows that tore open to the heart of him. All the while Shortstride and Sarkani healed us, making sure we could chip away slowly but surely. But no matter how much we attacked his body Jack was not phased. But the Containment Seal that had become the trigger for the machine around the Anchor… If we could get that away from Jack, then it would be over.
Proceeding to cut off the mechanical tentacle that held the switch worked, until Jack grabbed the dismembered arm with one still attached to his body. Vandree tried to assist with a powerful disintegration spell but Jack was too quick. Some things cannot be dodged though, including the righteous fury of Daybreaker. Her attacks, combined with Grimes and Tazmuk’s, finally saw the infant god Jack stumble.
The Lady of Pain did not miss a beat. In moments Jack was a heap of ruined, inanimate scrap metal. Then she left, taking the Containment Seal-turned-trigger with her. The day was saved.
Until we noticed Sankari with a small mechanical bird, made from pieces of one of Jack’s severed tentacle limbs, held in his hands.
There was no hesitation. The shadows carried me over and I wrestled the mechanical fiend from the aarakocra’s grip before stepping through shadows again to get away. He shouted, claiming he only wanted a souvenir of the Mad Modron. I could hardly believe what I was hearing, the foolishness of such a want. Vandree stepped forward, offering to detect whether it is magical or not. It was. The small mechanical bird let out a sigh and said in Jack’s voice, “And I was so close-” but my dagger ended his existence for good. One final word was said to Sankari and the matter was laid to rest.
They say the adventurers of the Dawnlands are powerful – and they are. There is no doubt about it. When brought together they are a force to be reckoned with. They have beaten back the Unseelie once already, slain gods, thwarted an Archdevil’s millennia long plans, and much more. But some, like Sankari – with their well intentions – could very well be their undoing.
Fool heartedness. Unchecked power. Sentimentality. Weaknesses, all.
Report passed on 7 day of the Drawing Down.
Neh diis lus’a, lus diis’a.
ASSIGNMENT REPORT #18
People/Organisations of Note:
Oziah Daybreaker – holy(?) warrior, aasimar (fallen), female; mount: Deimos (skeletal, fiend)
Jaezred Vandree – mage (divine; Chosen of Lolth), noble, drow, male
Laurel Shortstride – nature holy warrior, halfling, nonbinary
Tazmuk – warrior, dragonborn (red), male
Pieni Sankari – nature walker, aarakocra, male
Sergeant Grimes – holy warrior, human, male
Alettranos – notary for the Lady of Pain, devil, male
Dabus – Lady of Pain’s interpreter(?)
Lady of Pain – ruler of Sigil
Langston Farstep – THE OUTLAW, versemaker, human, male (deceased)
Jack – THE FUGITIVE, hexadrone, male (deceased)
Locations:
Fort Ettin – Adventuer’s hub
Limbo – Location of the ‘Negotiations’ between the Outlaw, the Fugitive, and the Lady of Pain
Body:
FOR THE EYES OF QUEEN MIANDRA ONLY. DETAILS OF THE FINAL CONFRONTATION WITH THE OUTLAW AND THE FUGITIVE.
Our group – consisting of Vandree, Daybreaker, Shortstride, Tazmuk, Sankari, and Grimes – were those chosen to help the Lady of Pain at the “negotiations” table. Upon our arrival in Limbo we saw them in their time dilation, which afforded us only a small amount of time to decide what to do. The Lady’s Dabus sent out two symbols of a green arrow and an egg timer. Before we had fully decided on our plan of attack Tazmuk touched the green arrow and the time dilation the Lady, her aids, the Outlaw and the Fugitive were in, shattered.
The Fugitive knew right away what had happened, yet was very calm about it. The first clue that everything was not what it seemed. The Outlaw did what all versemakers are known to do – talk a lot. Sankari asked him why (NB: I thought everyone was up to speed with the information but perhaps the aarakora wasn’t paying attention when Vandree outlined everything before our departure. It is unclear.) and the Outlaw explained his motives as outlined in Assignment Report #17. The Orb of Souls was severely depleted at this point but without any previous knowledge on how full it had been before, there was no way to know how much power the Outlaw had left.
He then had the gall to offer us in on the deal – to become gods ourselves. Without knowing everyone in our group extensively, there was no doubt that all of us would have refused regardless – mostly for the coordinated effort of other groups of adventurers. One for each location for where the Fugitive’s machine was, plus an additional group dealing with Wild Magic surges in Daring Heights and Port Ffirst. If anyone had accepted they would have had to deal with not only those that refused but those two.
As ‘negotiations’ were breaking down, various people in the party either explaining or telling the Outlaw his plan was folly (NB: Vandree put it very well: “Power is a burden. You need the strength to carry it, or be crushed under its weight. You don’t have the strength.”), there was a last attempt to divide them. Mentioning Ceres, I asked “Are you so sure he won’t do the same to you, Jack?” The Fugitive, who had not joined the Outlaw in coming towards us with the intention to fight, merely winked at me – the second clue that everything was not as it seemed.
The Outlaw proceeded to use the ten remaining souls in the Orb to shield or block attacks, even negating such blows that would have been fatal. I would be lying if I did not say my blood singed with excitement at the dance we all did. But I couldn’t help but notice the Fugitive’s laissez faire attitude as his supposed ‘partner in crime’ was being killed in front of him.
I had always known on some instinctive level that Farstep, though a thorn in everyone’s side – and the murder of a most beloved person in this community in the Dawnlands – was not the real threat. Sure, he always wanted more, or to be more, and had proven he would be willing to use anyone and everyone to get what he wanted… but he has never been a prisoner. He was never truly at the mercy of those more powerful than him, and certainly not for centuries. Unlike Jack. It has always been Jack who was the true mastermind behind everything.
Interestingly, Sarkani admitted to having intentions to help the Fugitive escape all before his own plans had come to pass. Apparently the aarakocra also helped the hexadrone during the Amaranthine Games, though in what way I do not know. (NB: This was my first time meeting him, so I cannot say for sure if Sarkani’s too trusting, a ‘do gooder’, or not very bright. But someone with his level of power should be watched closely for such foolish actions which will be detailed further below.)
It was Vandree who got the final, killing blow on the Outlaw, thoroughly blasting his face into ash with a blot of divine magic. All of us heard the telltale clang of the deepest and unholiest bell of Farstep’s soul being claimed by the Hells.
But there was still the Mad Modron to deal with.
The Containment Seal I had seen the Fugitive steal from Primus Secondus had become the destabilizing switch he held like an executioner’s sword over the Lady of Pain. That was why the Lady did not move to act. The Fugitive proceeded to laugh at his now dead co-conspirator, surprising perhaps some in the party. It was when he laughed at Farstep’s foolishness in thinking it would take him a year to build the machine around the Anchor that I knew without a doubt what Jack had truly been building. And it turns out he recognized me, despite how I appeared. “I recognise those moves.” I was flattered and hoped he knew what it would mean then for him when the Final Dance started.
But it did not quite happen then. Instead, as the Fugitive revealed what he truly was – already a god – he brought out a mechanical effigy of the fallen versemaker, Faust Greyheart, whom Farstep had slain.
I am the very model of a deity mechanical
Superior to any archfiend or a lord elemental
I can recite most all lore arcane, divine or alchemical
To say my reach exceeds my grasp ignores all of my tentacles
I built machines to bind a quantum-planar anchor in a week
To rise above the rest, to be untouchable is what I seek
Your vain attempts to thwart me will leave you paddle-less up a creek
For I’m supreme in every way, a polymath god mecha-geek
My power cannot be described in newtons or in spell degrees
There’s none more cunning on the land, high in the air or ’neath the seas
Forever I shall reign on high creating new iniquities
There’s simply not a more destructive, deadly set of arms than these
So bow before your new god, I accept offerings ecumenical
I hardly need the gold, I invest heavily in all metal
Your fear is quite appropriate, I’m simply diabolical
I am the very model of a deity mechanical
The ensuing fight was brutal. It was the first time any of us had fought a god. It was thrilling seeing Tazmuk move at speeds that saw the gigantic body of Jack shudder, or to see Daybreaker’s fury manifest in radiant blows that tore open to the heart of him. All the while Shortstride and Sarkani healed us, making sure we could chip away slowly but surely. But no matter how much we attacked his body Jack was not phased. But the Containment Seal that had become the trigger for the machine around the Anchor… If we could get that away from Jack, then it would be over.
Proceeding to cut off the mechanical tentacle that held the switch worked, until Jack grabbed the dismembered arm with one still attached to his body. Vandree tried to assist with a powerful disintegration spell but Jack was too quick. Some things cannot be dodged though, including the righteous fury of Daybreaker. Her attacks, combined with Grimes and Tazmuk’s, finally saw the infant god Jack stumble.
The Lady of Pain did not miss a beat. In moments Jack was a heap of ruined, inanimate scrap metal. Then she left, taking the Containment Seal-turned-trigger with her. The day was saved.
Until we noticed Sankari with a small mechanical bird, made from pieces of one of Jack’s severed tentacle limbs, held in his hands.
There was no hesitation. The shadows carried me over and I wrestled the mechanical fiend from the aarakocra’s grip before stepping through shadows again to get away. He shouted, claiming he only wanted a souvenir of the Mad Modron. I could hardly believe what I was hearing, the foolishness of such a want. Vandree stepped forward, offering to detect whether it is magical or not. It was. The small mechanical bird let out a sigh and said in Jack’s voice, “And I was so close-” but my dagger ended his existence for good. One final word was said to Sankari and the matter was laid to rest.
They say the adventurers of the Dawnlands are powerful – and they are. There is no doubt about it. When brought together they are a force to be reckoned with. They have beaten back the Unseelie once already, slain gods, thwarted an Archdevil’s millennia long plans, and much more. But some, like Sankari – with their well intentions – could very well be their undoing.
Fool heartedness. Unchecked power. Sentimentality. Weaknesses, all.
Report passed on 7 day of the Drawing Down.
Neh diis lus’a, lus diis’a.
