The River: Part 1 - 11/05/2022 - A Kavel Perspective

If You Like the Red Mountains of Kundar - Have You Tried Phlegethos?

I had come back from Kundar - just in time it turns out . No sooner did I leave Kundar, it was attacked by Githyanki riding adult red dragons. Very sad for the inhabitants of Kundar. On a personal level, though not comparable, I am a little sad that the masonry work my Iron Strong bros did may have been destroyed. Hopefully, if everything can be set right in Kundar, my bros can go back and once again help with repairs and upgrades.

So, I had news to tell Sorrel, but then my sister also had news for me - the High Diviner, Rholor, who she was spending so much time protecting had been kidnapped and taken to Phlegethos, the fourth level of Hell. The citizens around the temple, at the time of the kidnapping, were mind-controlled and started attacking each other. This distraction led to Rholor’s capture, and Sorrel was unfortunately occupied with related business elsewhere.

Obviously I volunteered to help bring Rholor back, since that’s what you do if you are a brother or even a comrade. Sorrel said to meet back at the temple of Selûne in two days.


Temple Bound

I feel I am at peak physical condition. I did non-combat related physical activity last week; masonry, and the week before; a race style competition. So, though I have been active, I have rested from combat and am not sore or fatigued from a recent fight. This is good! I’m very keen to try my new Stonehand Fighting Techniques. I peaked just right - I am a professional.

I was halfway between Portal Plaza and the Temple of Selûne when this very tall, older looking human man started eyeing me up. I did the same back. We stopped five feet away from each other. Maybe only four seconds went by, but it felt longer. The man wore full-plate, very well made from the looks of it, but not only that I couldn’t hear a single plate clang with another when he moved. You could see the combat experience on the old man’s gruff face, and it seemed that he saw something in me.

“You’ll do,” he said, breaking the silence between us, “you’re Kavel aren’t you? You’re going with Sorrel and the others?”

This man was the Jackal that Sorrel told me about. He questioned what weapons I had. I tapped at my handaxes and maul. He asked which was my primary weapon. I said my body. He tapped the plate below his breastplate, the plackart, and asked me to demonstrate. So, I planted my feet in an orthodox position, right hand chambered by my jaw, and left hand outstretched by the Jackal’s plackart marking the target. I breathed in through the nose, I turned my body, sank my left heel and the ball of my right foot into the ground, and pulled back my left hand towards my jaw and my right fist shot straight across my body towards the centre of the plakart. As I breathed out through the mouth and punched through the target, my fist landed squarely on target, just like the Metal Bros taught me. The Jackal did not flinch and his plate absorbed the full impact of my right cross. Well atleast my technique was good; no pain in my hand or anywhere.

“Yeah. You’ll do,” I still had his approval. He told me to go to Portal Plaza and wait there, and that he’d go get Sorrel. I accepted his request as if I was a soldier under his command, even though I wasn’t. The Jackal exuded authority.


Gather Here If You Are Going to Hell

Silvia brought stew. Nice! Also, as predicted - Silvia was joining us, which was also nice. But, for Sorrel, this must also be doubly concerning - her brother and her girlfriend are going to Hell with her.

Silvia and I had not had a chance to talk about the aftermath of our Kundar adventure, so we talked about that a little, and were soon joined by comrades Marto, Zola and Velania.

I had heard of the news that Githyanki tried to capture Coll during a picnic date with Velania. This was terrible news especially given the outcome for Coll who now, I am told, does not appear to be mentally present. I was sorry for comrade Velania too. It was, however, good to see Velania present and active.

I was not sure if Zola was also in sorrow. Last time I saw her was at her mothers’ house in the Witching Court. At this moment in time, she seemed quiet. But, I’m less familiar with her than I am with say Sorrel, or even Silvia or Marto.

Marto, I last saw with Velania at the Turning Fields - and now a possible reason why the nice lady Maddie was mothering him like a dejected child back then was forming in my head. Marto was the only other adventurer here who was there when Adhyël appeared in the Angelbark spouting nonsense about five heralds (and he was one of them). Marto slashed Adhyël up pretty good, which opened up Adhyël nice and wide for my poleaxe to swing and smash his head clean off. Even though I can’t fully remember it now - it’s still a great story. Unfortunately, now that I remember, Marto was a little upset afterward, because of the moment during the fight where Adhyël took control of his mind. I then guessed that Marto doesn’t like being on the receiving end of psychic spells more than even me. If Marto’s been dealing with Adhyël and the other heralds with Sorrel all this time; maybe he’s been caught in charm spells some more?

Sorrel gave everyone a potion of Greater Healing in thanks for their decision to join her today. I actually already had four of them on my person. I rarely take the bigger magical loot at the end of successful adventures, so I’ve ended up amassing quite a collection of Greater Healing potions from loot. I didn’t mention this though. My sister’s gift was thoughtful, so I just took it and thanked her.

The doors to Lady Aurelia Archselon home opened inviting us in.


Operation Rescue Rholor!

As we walked into the house, a figure from above slid down the roof and landed by the Jackal’s side. The others told me this was Khaös, a half-elf-like changeling who had been helping them.

In the living room, Lady Aurelia showed us a mechanical device that was responsible for magically making the citizens attack each other in front of the temple of Selûne. People reported that whilst they were under the spell, it was as if they were dreaming. It was a warning to us that our dreams in Hell weren’t to be trusted, and a solid blow should ‘wake’ us up from them. This mechanical construction was a powerful and destructive device, it was good to see it damaged by what looked like the slice of a blade.

Then there was a pause, as Lady Aurelia looked to the Jackal, who spoke next:

“We don’t have the magic to get you back from Phlegethos.”

This was not reassuring. But, the Jackal continued:

“But, Rholor can get you out, and we have reason to believe Rholor is still alive. If you can’t get to him, you’re all fucked, and trapped in Hell. You won’t be judged, if you want to bow out. If so, go now.”

There was a small argument from the couple, but Silvia insisted she was still going, and that’s where matters were left.

“I have a question,” I asked and got our hosts, Lady Aurelia and the Jackal’s attention, “I heard that if you kill a fiend in Hell, they stay dead. Proper dead. They don’t come back, they die permanently - dead. Is this correct?”

“Yes! That’s right,” the Jackal confirmed with a smile.

Silvia, perhaps anticipating a possible leap in logic from her Goliath comrade, pointed out that the reverse for us wasn’t true - if we die in Hell, we do not rematerialise back in the Dawnlands, as if we get a pass from death on different planes like fiends do.

Outside, at the portal, lady Aurelia held her teleportation spell as the Jackal struck his sword into the ground below us. Lady Aurelia let her spell out, and the ground below us ripped apart into a chasm below us, and we fell through the now empty ground. As I looked up, the ground above resealed itself, and we continued to fall.


Phlegethos - 4th Level of Hell - Worst Mountains Ever

It’s too hot here! We landed safely on our feet and were welcomed by an oppressive heat. My bare arms felt like they would blister at any second. I looked over at Zola, and Marto especially, and thought how much it must suck to be wearing mail or plate. My skin was coated in moisture, but the sweat wasn’t doing anything for me, it was far too humid here.

The terrain was mountainous, which I would otherwise enjoy, but the combination of the extreme humidity and dusty, dark red of the sky managed to make mountains less enjoyable for me.

We were instructed to look for the mouth of the river Azellah and use it to lead us to Rholor. So, we climbed a mountain to get a look around, and the climb almost did several of us in.

It should have only been a half hour climb, but we spent an hour and half reaching the summit. Marto and Zola were feeling the trade-off of armour for protection against comfort. Silvia and Velania were exhausted. Sorrel and I were doing fine. Corr’Vandor too - wait when did Zola’s large stag get here?

Looking out from our high vantage point, we could all see the mouth of the Azellah, which looked about three to four hours walk from here. But, Zola and I could see straight ahead of us the glint of a silver light further along the river, by a dip in the valley, where the river snaked around and into. If we went straight ahead, that looked like a four hour journey.

We were told to go to the mouth of the river, but some of us were keen to go straight to the dip.

At that moment, as if I was Derthaard or Glint, I had a really smart idea.


Party Unfamiliar!

I suggested, “why don’t we head to the dip straight ahead, but send a familiar to the mouth of the river? This way, whoever is seeing through the eyes of the familiar can tell us if we need to double back and go to the river’s mouth, if their familiar sees anything important. If we have to go back? Well too bad. But, if we don’t have to go back? We’ll be reassured that we made the right choice and have lost no time by going to the mouth of the river first!”

Silvia objected that it would still take ages for the familiar to get to the mouth of the river, so there would be a lot of doubling back, if we had to. It was a fair point. But, there was a more surprising point that emerged.

I waited for someone to volunteer their familiar, but no one was forthcoming with their magical scout. So, I asked, “Comrades, who here has a familiar?”

I was stunned - it turned out no one on the team had a familiar!

I protested, “No. Not possible. Everyone has a familiar.”

Of course, I didn’t, but everyone else seemed to. I based this on the fact that every other adventure I had been on, there was always a familiar. Actually, there was often more than one familiar in a team! Some adventurers even had two familiars. I’ve never had one, because it’s normally only magic-users who have them. But, even amongst the Thicc-Bois, we have familiars! Varga has a little statue that turns into a dog, and Ivan has a metal cube that turns into any animal he likes.

I always just assumed the magical adventurers coordinated amongst themselves to bring at least one familiar to every adventure. It was a disappointment to learn that I was mistaken.

It was inhospitably humid. We were in an unfamiliar location. We were not sure where we were going, and we were an adventuring team without a familiar. Unbelievable.


Executive Decision - Straight to the Dip

Khaös brought up an important point. We were advised to go to the mouth of the river to get our bearings, not because the mouth of the river was important in itself. We could see activity ahead of us at the river - the silver light, so we went straight ahead to the light.

I offered to give a piggyback to my exhausted comrades. Silvia said she had too much pride, and Velania said she would check in later.

Two hours later, our trek in this horrible climate was proving more arduous. Marto joined the list of my comrades who were exhausted, and Silvia and Velania got worse. We opted to take some rest, and replenish with as much water as we could afford. Some crows came to join us. A lot of crows came to join us.


Phlegethos - 4th Level of Hell - The Crows Are No Better

This murmuration of crows was huge and sweeping in closer and closer to us. They stopped for a split second, and then dived straight down at us.

I threw one of my hand axes into the mix of birds, while Sorrel loosed an arrow, and Silvia thrust with her trident. Whatever we hit turned to smoke. Success! And yet, the smoke was toxic. I managed to hold my breath as I waved away at the smoke to clear the air faster. I still felt like my lungs had been scratched.

Velania said she could feel something else in the smoke that she had to resist with all her might. When we looked at Marto and Sorrel’s now pitch black eyes, I remembered from my experience in the Angelbark with Marto, that this was likely Adhyël’s doing.


Comrades Controlled

Velania casted Lesser Restoration on Marto. A powerful curative spell, but Marto’s eyes remained black. Silvia, ever watchful for unseen magic called out, “enchantment spell!” She was not wrong.

Remembering Lady Aurelia’s advice, Zola went to slap Marto, but Marto had gallantly casted his Shield spell to protect him and Velania from the suicidal crows. The spell’s effect made Zola miss.

I saw Silvia reach for her manacles. I was behind Sorrel. I pounced and waist locked Sorrel with both her arms trapped, all the better to enable Silvia to restrain her with the manacles.

Sorrel was trying to struggle out of my grip. Over her shoulder, I saw Marto summon his battleaxe to his hand, and swing it at Velania, who turned in time to receive the blade of the axe across her back, drawing a crimson line from shoulder to side. The wound bled freely, and Marto, curiously, looked like he took some damage too at the base of his own back, as his face grimaced in pain.

Meanwhile, Sorrel was not behaving at all. She twisted side to side, and then lowered her base, turning enough to create a wedge with her shoulders against the seal of my hands and my body. Wedge in place, Sorrel dropped down out of my grip and spun away from me. Now facing me, she looked to Silvia who had her manacles in her hands. I’m not sure what goes on between these two lovers when they have their privacy, but something about Silvia with manacles helped snap Sorrel out of the enchantment spell, as the inky blackness faded from her eyes. This was a relief, but just like Marto, Sorrel grimaced a little as if something painful happened to her.

At the same time Sorrel was back in control, Zola had unsheathed her blades and landed one of her attacks smacking Marto with the flat of the weapon against his head. “Marto! Snap out of it!” I heard her shout at him. The black substance cleared from Marto’s eyes - he had shaken off the enchantment spell. Another relief!

However, Marto, free from the magical charm, could not so easily regain his composure. I watched him drop his axe and take a step back from his comrades. He then shook his head and dropped his shield, and began to break down. Zola sought to comfort him, “Marto it’s okay.”

But, Marto did not feel okay, and was not welcoming of support, which I guessed he felt he did not deserve, “don’t touch me!” Marto cried back.

Khaös was the one who managed to bring composure to Marto, although I’m not sure what Khaös said, because Khaös can speak telepathically. Whatever was said though, well done to them. Khaös is a good comrade. In addition, Khaös lifted Marto’s plackart from the rear and was able to reveal to Marto that the tattoo that enabled easier mind-control had gone. Khaös checked Sorrel and Velania too, and their tattoos were also gone, and it was confirmed that the grimace inducing pain they felt was the burning disappearance of those tattoos.

“This enchantment magic,” Khaös addressed us all, “it’s one of their defences. You’ve done well. You are the right team.”

“Go team!” Sorrel said. It’s good to see my sister is in good spirit.

Khaös advised that we rest for an hour, and we did. Velania had a magic potion of Vitality that reduced her level of exhaustion. Velania also casted the Light spell on a stone and rolled it towards Marto, fragile and still sat away from the rest of us. With this small gesture, Velania managed to communicate that she does not blame Marto for what was done whilst under the enchantment spell. This was not the first time I had seen comrade Velania show such thoughtfulness. If it was me, Marto would have received a friendly, big slap on the back, and my iron grip massaging his traps. But, Marto did not appear to want proximity right then, so I would have been lost with what to do for him. Maybe I would have sat a few feet away from him? But, Velania had achieved much with but a stone.

Silvia, pride about walking unassisted no longer a concern, asked to be carried.

“Not a problem,” I of course agreed that I would.

After another hour of walking, we had reached the edge of the bowl that marked the beginning of the dip in the valley where the orange light could be seen.

We stayed put while Khaös scouted ahead for us.

Twenty minutes passed before we heard Khaös’ voice in our minds. “They are waiting for you. They have him. Come.”

“Let’s go. It’s what we’re here for,” said Sorrel.


Phlegethos - 4th Level of Hell - Tourist Spots Are Also Unwelcoming

We walked on, with Khaös’ voice, but presence unseen, guiding us to a plateau. Below a narrow river of burning, much less viscous lava. Two bridges, a far distance apart, crossed the river. On the far side, were two features on the rocky ground. One was a large stone table with five chairs. One of the fiends was sitting there finishing a glass of wine. This was Ophanim - the one of the five who was a Drow rather than a devil. The second feature was another stone object, a platform where the High Diviner, Rholor lay. Next to this feature was a smaller platform with a white orb. There was a white, magical line between the orb and Rholor.

Amongst my comrades and I, a bunch of magical preparations happened quickly, as well as potions being consumed, and I entered a battlerage. Round one featuring Stonehand Fighting Techniques was on its way!

The herald, Ophanim finished his wine, stood up and looked up at the platform we were on, seemingly at Zola. Holding a sword out and pointing it at her. Zola did likewise and they exchanged words. Listening to what they said and looking at Zola’s face, I began to wonder if Marto wasn’t the only comrade of mine burdened with anguish.

For me, I was in some way happy. We had trekked across this oppressively humid terrain and finally came to our goal. I could see Rholor, our objective and now I could see all five of the heralds; our threat. Objective and threat now visible; I felt I could do something about that - of course this something would include Dwarven MMA.

Adhyël, the Stallion, was standing far away on the other side of the nearest bridge, somewhat near the circular stone table. Rahmiël, known as the Scorcher, was now sat close to where Ophanim, the Vain, was sat. An'Akhrim, the Silent - quite the unnatural thicc-boi, stood very close to where Rholor lay. Finally, Zah'Ranin, the Flesh-eater stood opposite Adhyël, north of us by another plateau, sort of protecting the way to the second bridge.

“Hammer and Ghost?” Sorrel asked me, flicking her eye towards the farthest bridge, which was nearest to where Rholor lay, and would involve colliding with Zah’Ranin. ‘Hammer and Ghost’ was an interesting play that involved Sorrel being sneaky and me smashing. When we train together, we have fun coming up with different ways of efficiently fighting together. I was a little torn though, I could see Marto had intention to fight Adhyël, and I wanted to join him and help set up Marto for the finish like he did for me months ago in the Angelbark.

Closest bridge with Marto, or furthest bridge with Sorrel. These were my choices.