"The snowglobe saga" was a little side trek that turned out to last about a year or so.  The snowglobe itself is significant in that it was the bridge between the high school and the college years of the Trond campaign, marking the end of one threat to the world and the introduction of another.  Following is a very fragmentary recounting of what happened to our party inside the snowglobe, using eyewitness accounts where possible, and with narration from myself where needed.

The Snowglobe Saga

Contents

The Ant Farm

Curunir and the Head that Couldn't Die

Duhr's Mission

Peasant Revolt

Assassins

The Black Gate

The Stories of Tucq and Leuth

Tharon's New Temple, and Duhr's New Pony

Finding Melvin

Saying Farewell

Picture, if you will, the "gate travel" scenes from the movie Stargate.  That's more or less how our heroes felt when Leuth completed his spell, and they were sucked into the crystal sphere known as "the snowglobe".  With an audible "pwumph," they landed on a dirt road in a largish town, where passersby gave them curious looks but kept walking.  After a bit of preliminary investigation, they found the world to be very much like theirs (right down to the languages), but with magic significantly more commonplace.

Fortunately, the party was narrowly able to defeat the queen without any more fatalities (in the process not only rescuing a local adventuring group that had bitten off more than they could chew, but ganking some VERY nice magical weapons from the formians' treasure hoard), but losing Duhr was difficult, since nobody among them had the ability to reconstitute a disintegrated cleric.  No big deal, the party figured, they'd be able to find a local temple with a powerful cleric and commission a Resurrection.  They encountered a major snag, though - not a single cleric in this world was able to cast that spell.

Further research indicated that the inhabitants of this world, although magic-rich, had very little notion of or contact with the outer planes of existence.  Naturally, all of the deities that grant Resurrection spells are major deities that reside on the outer planes (which is where the soul comes back from when a Resurrection is cast), so a lack of contact with the outer planes meant no Resurrections, or any other high-level cleric spells, for that matter.  Leuth was able to theorize that this was due to the relatavistic temporal differences between the snowglobe world and most of the rest of the multiverse, but theorizing the cause didn't do much to provide a solution.

The party agreed to the bargain, and Curunir requested to see Duhr's remains (which they furnished him, having preserved them in a scroll case).  Spilling the dust out onto the ground, Curunir intoned the words to a powerful spell, and then uttered, "I wish for this man to be restored to life!"  With a FOOM and a puff of blue rosemary-scented smoke, Duhr reappeared in front of them, completely intact, right down to the equipment he'd been carrying when he was blasted!  A bit stunned by his sudden return to the land of the living, Duhr got his bearings quickly and thanked Curunir profusely.  The mage looked a bit worn from the intensive spellcasting, but commented that it hadn't been nearly as draining as it should have been... almost as if the gods themselves favored the endeavor.

Their cleric restored to them, the party set out to fulfill their side of the bargain.  The swamps of Lerna were truly hazardous, home to perilous quicksand pits, jets of flaming natural gas that spurted from the ground with very little warning, and fearsome ROUSs (Rodents Of Unusual Size).  After a fair amount of wandering, though, they found the lair of the legendary Beast of Lerna.  It turned out to be a powerful hydra, and the pet of a fire giant, who promptly set about trying to turn the party into dinner.

The giant itself was fairly easy to dispatch, all things considered.  Its pet hydra, though, was a tough nut to crack.  Each time one of its heads was lopped off, new heads would slowly grow back.  Not only that, but the fewer heads the hydra had, the more resilient the remaining heads seemed to become, so it simply wasn't possible to chop all the heads off too quickly for them to regenerate.  All the while, of course, every single head was intent on trying to bite everyone's arm's off, and occasionally breathing fire.  Finally, the party hit on the solution of cauterizing the neck stumps when each head was removed, letting Crioth work on chopping off the remaining heads.  After a fierce fight, they were able to finally decapitate the hydra, and found that the final head did in fact remain alive; it seemed to contain the hydra's regenerative life essence within itself.  They put it in a bag and brought it back to Curunir, who was delighted to have such an unusual specimen.

While they were there, they were also able to get Curunir's help in identifying some of the items they had looted from the formian lair.  The shiny longsword that Crioth had found, they discovered, had the power to envelop itself in frost (doing extra cold damage) when a command word was spoken, and would also crackle with lightning whenever a telling blow (critical hit) was landed.  A mace from the same stash turned out to be "Lawful", giving an aggressive zap to any chaotic creature it touched.

Duhr set about his new mission by taking to the streets, preaching, and performing healing miracles.  He amassed a few followers, but also a few rival clerics who resented his intrusion on their territory.  One of them was particularly vicious in his heckling, accusing Duhr of being a charlatan using powerful arcane magic, rather than a true cleric.  He challenged Duhr to a trial by combat, and when Duhr accepted, the rival produced his "champion" to fight in the trial, a big strapping fellow by the name of Bruno.  Duhr in return roped Crioth into being his champion, and Crioth, with some trepidation, squared off against Bruno.

By the narrowest of margins, Crioth felled the mighty Bruno (when I say "narrowest," I mean with about 1 hit point to spare).  Duhr wasted no time in using powerful healing magic to restore both warriors to full health, to show that there were no hard feelings, and the rival cleric was forced to admit that there might be something to Duhr's preaching after all.  His popularity soared after that.

The heroes agreed to help the nobles, in the interests of keeping the peace and preventing bloodshed, but unbeknownst to the nobles, they didn't think "quelling" the rebellion was necessarily the way to go.  And so, when the war started (pitchforks, torches, a few hedge wizards slinging magic missiles, rioting in the town, fires), they were prepared for peace.

Durandle kicked things off by using a Control Weather spell to rain out the fires in town, and spells of Wind Wall and Wall of Stone to put a stop to most of the fighting.  He then more or less cowed the opposing forces into submission by becoming a manifestation of Tharon's might (it was a truly impressive cocktail of spells, including Wind Walk, Entropic Shield, and Righteous Might), and Leuth used Teleportation spells to grab one of the leaders of the revolt and put him in a room with one of the most powerful nobles, and have them work out a compromise.  Again, all of this divine magic being slung about was beyond the reach of the priests of this land, and everyone was suitably impressed.  When a compromise was reached, and Durandle used a Mass Healing spell to heal all those wounded in the fight, there was much rejoicing.  The feudal system in this land would move to the more enlightened "freedmen" paradigm, and the peasants would be able to use more civilized means to express grievances.

Not all of the casualties had been on the front lines, though.  A wealthy merchant had lost his daughter in a terrible fire - the rainstorm had put the fire out before it spread, but not in time to save the daughter from being burned to a crisp.  Tearfully, he asked Durandle for help, having heard that he could work mighty miracles.

The great cleric retrieved some of the daughter's remains, for that was all he required, and invoked the might of his deity, in the form of a True Resurrection spell.  And lo, the daughter was restored, and the merchant, in between tears of joy, bequeathed the site of the burned-out house, as well as a large chunk of change, to be used for the construction of a temple to the god who had returned his beloved daughter to him.  And again, there was much rejoicing.

Back at the inn, Durandle was able to revive Leuth, and the party searched through the dead assassin's belongings looking for clues.  They noted that the assassin had been carrying a very nice magical rapier, which Eni appropriated for his own use, and a vial of purple worm poison.  Purple worm poison being relatively rare, they had a lead, and were able to inquire about recent purchases of purple worm poison.  The trail led to the owner of a house in the rough part of town, and, accompanied by a monk who was on the trail of the same miscreant, our heroes decided to pay a visit.

Eni and the monk (Seriah) opted for the stealthy approach, climbing up the house's back wall and then breaking and entering through a window.  Meanwhile, the rest of the group tried the front door, where they were met by a group of guards that didn't feel like opening the door.  The two groups converged nicely as Crioth bashed in the front door while Eni and Seriah sprang from the shadows and started taking out guards.  The fight was over very quickly, and the heroes discovered a hidden trapdoor that led to a larger subterranean complex.

The subterranean passage was rigged with a wide variety of traps, all of which were negotiated either by skillful defusing by Eni or brute force from one of the spellcasters.  A far more difficult obstacle was the squad of assassins that ambushed them from behind a bunch of potted plants.  After the initial surprise assault, the party was able to engage them in honorable melee and prevent any disastrous sneak attacks by ensuring that each assassin was directly engaged by one person (it happened to work out well that there were six assassins and six party members to fight them).

Unfortunately, the mage became a bit skittish at this point, and decided to withdraw from the melee, shapeshifting to the form of a very small pixie and then flying to the ceiling, out of reach of the assassins.  This made Leuth quite safe, but it did present a nice opening for one of the assassins, who took advantage of his sudden freedom of movement to open a couple of Durandle's more important arteries.  Before anyone could blink, Durandle had crumpled to the floor, gushing profuse amounts of blood.  Fortunately for all concerned, Crioth was able to even the score with a few swipes of his sword, but there was still the matter of the felled cleric; they were able to quell the blood loss, but he wasn't getting up any time soon.  The monk took charge of the situation and, picking up Duhr's inert body, returned to the surface with supernatural speed, bringing the body to the temple of Tharon, still under construction, and being overseen by a few of Durandle's new followers.  Seeing their leader in grave condition, the clerics joined hands around the body and invoked powerful healing magic to restore him to consciousness.  Thanking and blessing the clerics, Durandle and Seriah hastened back to rejoin the party.

Having wiped the floor with the assassins, the group continued farther into the underground complex, again having to deal with a few devious traps (one particularly grim one combined a concealed pit trap, a hungry black pudding waiting to eat anyone who fell in the pit, and an antimagic field to thwart attempts to fly over the pit).  At the end of it all was a wizard's laboratory, and the wizard wasn't happy to have visitors.  A ferocious battle ensued.  Finally, on the verge of death, the wizard turned to a gigantic black wrought-iron gate that stood at one end of his laboratory, grabbed a charm of some sort from his workbench, and plunged through the gate, which flared with reddish light as it swallowed him.  The gate remained open and, after a brief pause, the party plunged through after him, determined to get some answers.

It was during this lovely tour that they heard cries of help coming from a nearby intersection, where a group of small thorny devils (spinagons) were attacking a golden-skinned, winged, angelic-looking creature.  The group rushed to her rescue, and, after expressing her thanks and hearing of the object of their pursuit, said that she had seen an individual by that description, and offered to lead the party to him.  They eagerly accepted, and followed her inside one of Dis's vast buildings.

It was here that their guide showed her true form - an erinyes, a devil that specializes in tempting mortal souls.  And it happened that she was in the employ of Tanetal, the pit fiend that the lich Riasz had summoned to kill the party (and whom they had instead dispatched back to Baator).  Pit fiends are not known for their forgiving natures, and hearing of the group's arrival in Baator, Tanetal had prepared a trap for them.  A group of cornugons (Baator's whip-wielding enforcers) sprang out from hiding, and a ferocious fight ensued.  Meanwhile, Tanetal vanished from sight and, invisible, started flinging offensive spells.  The fiend had not planned on the party having grown in power so much, though, and he was quickly vanquished by their superior magic and skill at arms, leaving the party with what remained of the mage they had pursued (the fiends, assuming he was a friend of theirs, had eviscerated him very slowly).  The group was able to recover the charm from the mage's body, and sure enough, returning to the archway that they had come through upon their arrival in Baator, arrived back at the subterranean laboratory.

Leuth decided to temporarily take up residence in the mage's quarters, in order to study the gate and figure out what the evil wizard had been planning with it.  Meanwhile, the rest of the party returned to life as normal.

*cough* *twitch* GET OUT OF MY HEAD AAAARRRGH *ahem*

 

Excuse me. Well, fellas, while you surface-dwellers were up top a couple of nights ago, I found quite a few interesting things in our new subterranean lair while I was reading the books of vile darkness. (I'm contemplating dying my skin black and bleaching my hair white, what do you think?) This book here, which I found nestled in between "Consorting with Evil Spirits for Fun and Profit" and "101 Fun Ways to Watch Someone Die", has an extradimensional compartment in it! Kind of like our Bags of Holding, but, you know, rectangular. Here's what evil-mage-boy was carrying in it:

 

Three thousand platinum pieces

Three brilliant emeralds (about 1k gp each)

Three small blue-white diamonds (about 1k gp each)

 

Gem of Seeing - This fist-sized chunk of polished rose quartz shows everything viewed through it as it truly is.

Hat of Diguise - This muddy green Robin-Hood-style hat allows its wearer to assume any disguise he wishes.

Gloves of Dexterity - These finely crafted, thin, black leather gloves bestow uncanny nimbleness on their wearer.

Amulet of Health - This wooden amulet, depicting a serpent tied into a complex knot and eating its tail, grants its wearer improved bodily health.

 

The more liquid assets, if split five ways evenly, divvy up to 7,200 gold pieces each.

 

The Gem of Seeing can be used by any of us (though probably not during combat). It's less useful to me than to the rest of you, since I can perceive invisible objects with my own eyes, and have a fair number of other divination spells at my disposal. Any takers for who'd like to hold on to it?

 

As much as I like the Hat of Disguise, it's pointless for me to wear it, since I can polymorph at will anyway. It should probably be on the head of someone who doesn't wear a helmet, since I doubt it'd be a good replacement for one. Tucq? Or Eni, do you think it'd be helpful in any of your covert operations?

 

The Gloves of Dexterity would benefit any of us who aren't weighed down by metal armor, but I think they lend themselves best to Eni's particular talents. Any other thoughts?

 

The Amulet of Health would benefit any of us, plain and simple. Crioth tends to take more of a beating than the rest of us when we get into combat, but Durandal and Eni also see their share of battle damage. I'll let the rest of you fight over it, since I'm working on an item that should increase my own lifespan by a wide margin...

 

Me, I'm going to keep the book, because it's cool.

 

But to continue with my story. I was Identifying all of this stuff in the lab, along with some of my own stuff, because I'd forgotten what it did. (Like that Scroll of Haste - I keep forgetting what spell is on it!) So just as I was finishing up, the planetary conjunction hit full intensity. I'll let Tucq talk more about that, since he was the one stargazing when it happened, but remember when all the streetlamps flared up like lightning had struck them? Yeah, that was it. Well, things flared up down there too, including the big scary iron gate to Baator.

 

So before I knew what was happening, ten little spiny devil things came whizzing out of the gate, giggling insanely, and started throwing poky things at me! I dispatched them with a Chain Lightning, but it was still pretty scary. A little bit of pee came out. I tell ya, it almost makes me question the wisdom of keeping an operational gate to the Nine Hells in the place where I sleep.

 

My colleague Tucq helped me out with this one. Together we created a huge stone plug in the gate that I'm hoping will hinder anything else trying to come through. Of course, we'll have to wait for the next planetary conjunction to know how well it works. *wry grin*

 

With that, I'll turn you over to Kiotucq himself so he can tell you what he was doing that night.

For his part, Kiotucq had this to say (again, with some external prompting):

*twitch* no *ahem* I was out on that very same night, looking at the night sky. Even in this land where the stars have different places in the sky, I find it comforting to look up at them and to hear the voices of the spirits that live in the spaces between.

 

In my wanderings away from the city, I came to a grassy hill, upon which an old man sat watching the same sky that I was, smoking a pipe. He greeted me, offered a lungful of his pipe, and I sat to talk with him a while.

 

He pointed out the bright spot in the sky that grew brighter even as we watched, and explained that it was a conjunction of three planets, a very rare event. When two planets align, they shine as brightly as a large star; when three align, they shine like a small sun. As they lined up, the little spot of light flared, creating a dim ray of light that shone from the heavens down to the earth, into the forest not far from where we sat.

 

The old man told me a story that the planets put him in mind of. A story about a great wizard who lived long ago. I'll go into the details of that story in a second, but it intrigued me enough that I went to find the place where the ray of light was shining. My search ended in a small rocky clearing, which I carefully made a note of so I could return to it later. As I stood there, the light from the distant planets dwindled, until nothing remained to distinguish it from any other clearing in the forest.

This concluded Tucq's speech.

at this point, a wandering loremaster interjects to read from an appendix to one of his favorite texts, entitled "The Origin of Wizardry", or "A Brief History of Magic"

 

Before civilization, there was the magic of the wild. Druids called upon the forces of nature to command the elements. Sorcerers called on strange forces in their own spirits to bend reality. And outside the settlements of man were the fey folk, weaving songs of enchantment that snared men's minds.

As man grew, so did his access to magic. Some of the more powerful spirits of the land saw value in the hearts and minds of men, and anointed the first clerics as their representatives in human cultures. In the east, the first of the monastic orders was founded, and the fighting monks soon emerged, harnessing their bodies' full potential to defend themselves in times of need. The more introspective mystics known as psions looked within their own minds and found great reserves of power that could affect the world around them. As civilzation grew, the wandering bard became commonplace, borrowing magic from the faerie and satyr and incorporating it into his own song and poetry.

The revolution came on the heels of the emergence of alchemy and paper. Sages delved into the secrets of the universe and were able to share their knowledge in written form, even across feudal borders. It was one brilliant young scholar during this time who pierced the veil that lay over magic and was able to bend it to his will as no man had before. His name was Melvin.

With the advent of written magicks, any scholar with the time and inclination could wield the spells of a sorcerer, draconic blood or no. The study of "book magic" or "wizardry" was limited only by the written word and the caster's intellect, and after decades of study, Melvin wielded energies undreamt of by any sorcerer before his time. With his support, the noble warrior-king Alfred united the feudal states into a kingdom, and the golden age began.

When Melvin had finished committing the majority of his knowledge to books and students, he left these lands for reasons unknown. He prophesied that a great holy man, along with a band of heroes from "beyond the skye", would split the ground and bring him forth from his enchanted slumber in a crystal cave. This event was to be heralded by a conjunction of planets.

Thus far, there has been no sign of Melvin, before, during, or after any planetary conjunctions, but the story is repeated among arcane spellcasters (and imaginative children) to this day...

Thus informed, the party began to make plans to locate this "Melvin" if in fact he existed...

News of a great gathering has been circulating all over the city for almost weeks now. For those of you with curious minds, the most you’ve been able to find out that it has to do with the nearly finished temple of Tharon – for good or bad, you don’t know.

 

Then on one day, no matter how scarce you have been [ehem], you are greeted by a young acolyte dressed in simple white and red vestments. She greets you warmly by full name and title. Not even introducing herself, she gives you a folded parchment with a wax seal and quickly takes her leave of you. You (hopefully) recognize the signet on the wax to be of the house of Bartholomew – Durandle’s. Those of you who can read open it… while the rest hold their heads in shame for the remainder of the day. Inside you find yourself to be rather formally invited to a dinner upon the upcoming summer solstice at the grand opening of the temple of Tharon, and you are informed that you are to be seated with the other guests of honor alongside your host.

 

You spend the next few days getting ready: picking your pointiest hat, sprucing your afro, practicing your smiles, and choosing your fanciest lock-picking kit. On the evening of the dinner, you find what seems like half the city to be going in the same direction. Word has it that for every peasant attending, so would a noble, and vise versa. Making your way through the hustle and bustle, you see how much the temple has progressed from a pile of ashes and cinder, and for the night, the entire main area has been accommodated with long tables and benches. There are no distinguishable areas, and people from all walks of life are sitting down together to enjoy a massive Heroes’ Feast.

 

Something catches your eye. Up at the altar, a rather large, slightly glowing, and translucent symbol of Tharon hovers about two feet over it. A little over to the right, you think you can make out Durandle waving you over. As you approach, you notice that you are to join the rest of your comrades at the only table set aside from the rest. At this table, you also find, seated side-by-side, the leaders of the nobility and peasants… including Wallace who’s brought with him to the table a poor, single mother of three young children with no father. Of course, the rich merchant who funded the building of the temple has come to the dinner with his daughter. Even good old Curunir Ilmaren is there.

 

You, and just about everyone else, eat to your fill and drink until you’re merry – some more than others. The festivities begin to pick up speed. There is plenty of music, and even Durandle himself leads a few dances. Every once in a while, someone among the mass of tables will stand up and try to say a thing or two, but chances are only the people immediately around can hear. Some of the fun even spills out into the streets, but everything remains fairly civil. And all this continues on into the night.

 

When the activities pass their peak, and the idea of calling it a night begins to seep into your mind, Durandle is somehow able to quiet the entire crowd and command all their attention. He raises his goblet and proposes a final toast. First, to Tharon: for his divine wisdom and kindness. Then he turns to the noble and peasant leaders before him: who are spearheading an enlightened world. He raises his goblet a little higher to the poor family Wallace brought and then motions to everyone else: for we are all alike. To Curunir: a personal thanks. To you: for years of unwavering friendship and brotherhood. And finally, to the rich merchant: who made such a place a place to congregate possible. Durandle takes a brief pause and then walks to the merchant’s daughter, takes a knee, and whispers something to her. She looks to her father and then back to Durandle… she nods. She gets up and walks over to the altar. Everyone is watching her. She climbs a small step-ladder that’s been placed by the altar. Durandle proclaims that through cherishing our future – our children – this temple will be a beacon from Tharon to all who would embrace his love. The girl reaches up and touches the hovering symbol of Tharon. At that very instant, the entire chamber is rushed by the light of day.

 

And there was much rejoicing.

Having finished his work consecrating the new temple of Tharon, Durandle and friends embarked on an epic quest to befriend a celestial horse whom he could then summon to his side and ride into battle.  I shall not detail said quest here.

When they landed, they were underground and it was quite dark, until they brought out magical light sources.  And then something moved near them, and it was dark again.  A tough fight ensued between the heroes and the family of beholders that inhabited this cavern, the beholders making strategic use of their anti-magic eyes to make life difficult for the party (dousing their magical lights, cancelling the effect of Fly spells at inopportune moments, thwarting offensive spells, that sort of thing).  In the end, the party was victorious, although many of them were bruised and battered, and they had free reign of the beholders' lair, which consisted of three vertically stacked chambers, carved out of solid rock via the beholders' Disintegration ability.

At the bottommost chamber there was a passage leading straight down, emerging above a vast subterranean lake.  After scouting it out via magical means, and determining that there was an artifical door (with some sort of puzzle lock) in the wall at one edge of the lake, the party used Durandle's flying carpet to descend down the passage and fly over the lake to try to open the door.

What happened next (Leuth's retelling of his quest to create his Precious, the party's harrowing fight with a group of aboleths, and their triumph over two of the "tests" that guarded Melvin's resting place) can be read here.

But to summarize (and segue into the story of the party's solution to the third puzzle):

Party crossed the subterranean lake on Duhr's magic carpet. Had a run-in with some evil psionic fishies. No casualties.

 

Ser solved the puzzle door through sheer monkish intuition. Go Ser! It opened.

 

Beyond that lay a trial by combat against an iron golem, which Crioth won handily, opening the way to another room.

 

The room you're in now has a puzzle known as the Weights of Authority and Responsibility. A statue stands beside ironbound double doors. In its outstretched hands are marble plates. On a dais in front of it are eight weights, ordered 1 thru 8. An inscription on the dais in Dwarven says (Duhr translates):

 

==========================

You face the weights of authority and responsibility.

Balance them well, lest you sow disaster.

Balance them perfectly and you shall open the way.

It will help you to know that the first is ten times the second.

Thrice the second is the third plus twice the eighth.

Twice the third is one more than the fifth plus half the eighth.

The fourth is the difference between the sixth and twice the seventh.

The fifth is one tenth of the sum of thrice the second and one fourth the fourth.

The sixth is the first minus twice the third plus twice the fifth.

The seventh is the difference between four times the fourth and the sum of the first and fifth.

Twice the eighth is one less than twice the second plus the third.

======================

 

Eni warns you that the room is crawling with traps, and to heed the warning about "balance them well lest you sow disaster". Leuth contributes that with eight unknown weights and eight known algebraic relationships between them, it should be very possible to determine how to balance them out.

Ultimately, Eni was able to solve the problem, balancing the eight equations as easily as he'd balance the tumblers in a tricky lock.  Of course, the rest of the party contributed as well.  The excerpts that weren't algebraic blind alleys follow.

(Seriah)

okay well i have totally forgotten how to do algebra as of switching majors... to save you guys some time.. heres what it looks like translated into ebil ebil maf terms...

It will help you to know that the first is ten times the second.
A = 10B
Thrice the second is the third plus twice the eighth.
3B = C 2H
Twice the third is one more than the fifth plus half the eighth.
2C = 1 E .5H
The fourth is the difference between the sixth and twice the seventh.
D = F - 2G
The fifth is one tenth of the sum of thrice the second and one fourth the fourth.
E = (1/10)(3B (1/4)D)
The sixth is the first minus twice the third plus twice the fifth.
F = A - 2C 2E
The seventh is the difference between four times the fourth and the sum of the first and fifth.
G = 4D - (A E)
Twice the eighth is one less than twice the second plus the third.
2H = (2B C) - 1

uhhmm... the most promising first step looks to be combining 3B = C 2H and 2H = (2B C)-1 but i cant for the life of me remember how to do this :P i'll hafta dig up notes or something later.

 

(Eni)

Yeah, I'm sure I'll get it right one of these days. Keep on transcribing the equations wrong. *mutter*

Okay, error in the scratchwork, so reworking everything past the first time I used it...

-3A +2C + 9D - 4E = 0

/* proper scratchwork.. heh! */
8C = 4E + 2H + 4
8C = 4E + (2B + C - 1 ) + 4
4E = -2B + 7C - 3
/* again, end scratchwork */

-3A + 2C + 9D -(-2B + 7C - 3) = 0
-3A + 2B - 5C + 9D + 3 = 0
-3A + 2B - 5C + 9(-12B +40E) = -3
-3A + 2B - 5C - 108B + 360E = -3
-3A - 106B - 5C + 360E = -3
-3A - 106B - 5C + 90(-2B + 7C - 3) = -3
-3A - 106B - 5C - 180B + 630C - 270 = -3
-316B + 625C = 267
-316B + 312.5B + 312.5 = 267
3.5B = 45.5

B = 13
A = 10B ; A = 130
C = (13)/2 + .5 ; C = 7
H = ((26 + 7)-1)/2 = 16
14 = E + (16/2) + 1 ; E = 5
40(5) = 12(13) + D ; D = 44
G = 4(44) - (130) - (5) ; G = 41
F = (130) - 2(7) + 2(5) = 126

Now to balance it...

Okay. Here goes.

A + B + C + G = (13 + 130 + 7 + 41) = 191

D + E + F + H = (44 + 5 + 126 + 16) = 191

We have an answer?

 

(And the result, when the party decided to trust in this result....)

It's showtime!

 

Eni and Duhr pick up their respective sets of weights, as the less confident members of the party nervously press themselves against the far wall ("if they'd bothered to ask where the blades come out they'd know that's the WORST place to stand" mutters Eni, shaking his head). Each stack of weights feels like it weighs around 12 pounds, but whether it's an exact match none can really tell without a jumbo-sized set of scales.

The rogue and the cleric, looking like the very embodiment of Balance in their clothes of black and white, hoist their weights over the marble plates, and look at each other. Durandle speaks.

"One... two..."
"Wait, wait, are we going on three?"
"YES!"
"Just checking."
"One... two... THREE!"
*click*

They set their weights down simultaneously... and imperceptibly, the marble hands holding the marble plates shift downward. Eni flinches involuntarily, knowing well the sound of a hidden mechanism being triggered.

There is a grinding, screeching sound, as of metal on stone, and you hear something moving behind the double doors. Then, a loud KA-CHUNG, and the doors fly open, revealing a room beyond them.

The room beyond was home to the final puzzle, which we refer to here as the "Riddle of the Nine".

The next room in the complex is 30 feet square, with about a 10 foot roof. The floor is polished stone, the walls a bit rougher hewn stone, with vaulted arches supporting the roof.

 

Standing in various places around the room are nine statues, whose forms will be detailed later. At the opposite end of the room is a stone archway that implies a doorway, but only marks an empty spot on the wall. Carved over the archway, in the Common tongue:

Sort the word from the nine. Speak and you may pass. Speak its reverse to seal the way.

As you (any of you) walk into the room to examine any of its contents more closely, you draw near one of the statues, and it speaks.

Each statue speaks a different riddle:

 

A human boy, perhaps 12 years old, wearing wizard’s robes and a dagger in his belt.

“An intermittent and irregular word, which on the left is healthy and sound, and on the right has no more room.”

 

A young man in his late teens, dressed in robes. One hand is to his chin in a thoughtful expression, the other holding a book.

“I knew a well-spoken verb, which first signaled a choice, then took its fill.”

 

A young man with a thin beard. His left hand holds a telescope, his right stretched out as if reaching for something.

“Fermented sugar cane followed by a short wizard makes for a disorderly search.”

 

A grown man with a feeling of seriousness about him. His face is clean-shaven and his hands clasped together in front of him. He wears full chain mail and has a sword belted at his side, with a shield resting against his leg. His eyes seem to peer downward as if studying something.

“It should be obvious what you get when three quarters of wickedness beat my shield into depression.”

 

A man approaching his middle years. His face is set in a domineering expression, though his nose is a little large. His right hand holds a thin wand and his left hand is curled into a fist.

“This override word should be clear; consider he who dines on an apple and buries what’s left.”

 

A middle-aged man, apparently in good health as he is depicted wearing full plate armor with a great sword on his back. His hands hold his helmet in front of him, while his eyes stare shrewdly from his otherwise calm face.

“It is vital you are aware of treasures brought from afar and followed by six-legged soldiers.”

 

A short man beginning to go bald, with lines around his eyes and mouth. His left hand holds his staff, while his right holds up a coin that he studies.

“The hand of reason is protected, first to be emaciated and last to allow.”

 

An old man wearing wizard’s robes and a heavy, lined cloak. His arms are crossed and he bears a defiant expression on his face.

“A word of freedom curtailed, for a great army of multitudes comes before the measure of a man’s time.”

 

An ancient wizard seated in a heavy chair and nevertheless clutching his cane in one hand. His other hand rests on the arm of his chair. Deep wrinkles crease his face and his bony hands make his joints seem overlarge.

“Betrayal is done by this traitor of a word; first it is to rotate around, then to layer its blade.”

The party figured these out in short order; this time it was the spellcasters who did all of the legwork.

(Leuth)

Upon seeing the less mathematical nature of the new puzzle, Leuth perks up considerably, and flits from one statue to another, listening intently as they recite their riddles. After some time, he nods thoughtfully and resumes normal-sized Leuth form in the middle of the room.

 

#1 - Young Human Lad: 'healthy and sound' ... fit + 'no more room' ... full = 'intermittent and irregular word' ... fitful

#3 - Young Man with Telescope: 'fermented sugar cane' ... rum + 'short wizard' ... mage = 'a disorderly search' ... rummage

#6 - Middle-Aged Knight: 'treasures brought from afar' ... imports + 'six-legged soldiers' ... ants = 'it is vital' ... important

#9 - Ancient Wizard Enthroned: 'to rotate around' ... turn + 'to layer its blade' ... coat = 'betrayal is done by this traitor of a word' ... turncoat

 

(Duhr)

Duradle grunts, "Hmph... fine... how about...

 

#8 An Old Man "a great army of multitudes"... host + "the measure of a man's time"... age = "freedom curtailed"... HOSTAGE

#7 A Short Man "to be emaciated"... gaunt + "to allow"... let = "hand...protected"... GAUNTLET

#5 A Man Approaching His Middle Years "dines"... sup + "an apple and buries what's left"... plant = "override"... SUPPLANT

#4 A Grown Man "wickedness"... evil / "three-quarters"... evi + "depression"... dent = "obvious"... EVIDENT

 

(Tucq)

Orate.

 

(Duhr again)

Durandle walks to the archway and gives it a questioning look, "Foresight?"

To this, the archway made a sort of a *SHOOM* noise, and allowed the party to pass.

As Durandle speaks the word "Foresight", the section of wall under the archway becomes insubstantial and vanishes, as if with a Passwall spell.

 

Beyond it you perceive, by flickering torchlight, a small room whose walls glisten as though made of crystal. And then, from within, an old man wearing greyish-blueish robes and a misshapen, wide-brimmed, pointed hat steps out. His hair is long and gray, as is his beard. As he emerges from the archway, rubbing sleep from his eyes, he stands tall, and you see that he's fairly fit for a man his age, standing roughly eye to eye with Crioth.

 

He looks around at all of you, squinting a bit in the torchlight, and pulls a staff seemingly from nowhere. Runes wind all down the side of it, and its top is carved into the likeness of some sort of claw that grasps a clear crystal. "Shirak," he says, and the crystal blazes into bright light, illuminating the room. "Better," he comments, smiling as he gets a better look at all of you.

 

"I am pleased to see that you've all arrived more or less in one piece," he says, looking around at the various bruised and bleeding members of the party. "And I must thank you for coming to wake me up. I trust the journey was not TOO difficult?"

 

(Duhr)

Bowing, "Greetings, good sir. Which the exception of the very first part, the journey was actually rather interesting." Motioning to the rest, "Please, allow me to introduce ourselves. I am Durandle of Bartholomew. These are my good companions: Eni, Leuthwinmar, Crioth, and Kiotucq. And I also present to you the lady Seriah."

 

"It was no easy task to come here, and I know not of how much time is on our side. Am I correct in assuming you are the prophesized Melvin?"

 

(Melvin) 

I have no reason to suspect otherwise. Time not on your side? Oh... of course. *looking at Leuth and Crioth* The fishies. And your protection spell must be about to wear off. I wrote a spell good for removing magical effects... Melvin's Disjunction... how did that one go? Hm. Well, bother. I suppose that wouldn't be entirely appropriate in any case, if you wanted those weapons to stay magical.

 

How about... *putting a hand on Crioth's forehead* Aveho Vomicam! That should clear things up.

 

And... stop flitting about like that, it's impolite to wear a false form when you meet someone for the first time. Perdo Magum! (A shower of magical sparks flies from Melvin's fingers, and with a POOF, Leuth is in normal elf form, looking scandalized.) There, much better. It's good to take pride in the form the gods gave you. *taps Leuth on the forehead* Aveho Vomicam!

 

There, no nasty magical effects left. We can all relax now. Hindsight. (at this, the archway seals up again) Very pleased to meet all of you! You all seem more or less as I'd pictured you.

 

(Duhr)

"You've... pictured... us?" putting the torch away seeing how unncessary it is to wave around.  "Well, I suppose it isn't too hard to believe considering all this," motioning to where the passway once was. "Oh, and thank you for them," looks to Crioth and then to Leuth -- shudders. Mutters something about pixies. "Not too sure about the pride in that."

 

"To be quite honest, we, or at least I, only had a vague idea about coming here. So if it isn't too much trouble, could you tell us a bit about yourself? Exactly what your destiny entail? And of course: how can we help?"

 

(Melvin)

*looks around absently* Chairs. I should have made chairs here. Wait, I know. Give me a second... *pulls a bit of clay out of a pocket* Formo silicem! (a series of stone chairs rise from the floor itself, one of them directly under Melvin, which he casually settles into) There.

 

My story isn't terribly interesting or even that relevant, but I'll give you the abridged version. Since childhood I have been gifted, and cursed, with insight beyond that of other men. My dreams have a habit of coming true. I see things others do not. And I was able to unravel the very secrets of magic in ways that none before me had. I'm sure you've heard the story.

 

Now, I ask you this rhetorical question. Have any of you, particularly the users of magic among you, noticed anything... unusual... about this world?

 

(Duhr)

"Hm," gets an impressed expression, nods, and takes a seat after Melvin. "Thank you, m'lord."

 

"Well, our resident expert is actually the one you've just... helped... take his original form. Leuthwinmar here," points. "But yes, you're precisely correct."

 

"You see, this world, and its reality as you understand it, is actually the direct result of us, four swords, and a staff of creation... many details excluded. This world, in relation to where we come from is about the size of," cups his hands to the approximate size of the snow-globe, "and is progressing a great deal faster than ours. From my own personal experience, I myself had to present this world with the knowledge of the awesomeness who is Tharon. Apparently the greatest powers were mear spirits and not gods."

 

"It took a bit of trouble for my friend Leuthwinmar to find out how just to be able to come here."

 

(Melvin)

Naturally. And a clever trick it was too, by the way. But what I'm driving at is this: why is it you suppose the gods had no perception of this sphere? And more importantly: have you considered the implications of prolonged contact between our relativistic frames?

 

(Duhr)

Looks to his companions, then back, and shrugs. "Never really thought about it. I guess I got too caught up in remedying that to ask why in the first place. And as for the implications, it was divined our coming here was worth the risk. But we don't exactly know what those implications may be."

 

(Melvin)

*sigh* If people these days paid more attention to magical theory and less attention to... well, never mind. I'll give you a concrete example. Not too long ago, you had a run-in with a dark wizard, correct? Something about opening a gateway to one of the Lower Planes? It's a bit foggy. The point is, you went through that gate, spent some time on the other side, and came back, and hundreds of years hadn't passed. Didn't that seem wrong to you?

 

Have you ever heard the cliched expression "there are some things man should not meddle with?" It's one of the chief reasons I didn't pass ALL my knowledge on to my apprentices.

 

(Duhr)

Scratches the side of his head then rubs the coif-hair out. "Well, I've only recently undertook to study the Planes. I just naively assumed that time meant an entirely different thing in the Planes. I imagine an eternity in heaven isn't the same as an eternity in hell to their residents. I thought that it wasn't just our worlds that differed in relativity, but everything else as well. Although, now that I think about it, when I opened a direct portal to the Planes -- upper, if you're wondering -- the affects of this reality still held. That is, everthing on the otherside looked frozen and enlarged. Hm... I just don't know."

 

"Now, what is it that you mean by that? What is it that man, or we, should not meddle with?"

 

(Melvin)

Imagine it this way. Somebody from your homeland goes to Baator, which is where you were, I believe. Around the same time, you pass through that infernal contraption and meet them there. You have afternoon tea there, and bid farewell. When you return here, an hour has passed. When your friend returns to his home, an hour has passed for him as well. But an hour there is many years here. How does that add up?

 

Well, it doesn't, unless you stretch the fabric of space and time to make the pieces line up. And that's what that power-crazed fool did when he built that gate. And to a lesser extent, you do the same thing every time you receive powers from extraplanar sources and manifest them here. The system isn't going to reach equilibrium until we're all in the same relativistic frame. And that would be a Bad Thing.

 

(Crioth)

finally snapping out of his own awe and noticing his jaw is wide open, crioth wipes off his drool hanging from his chin and slowly inching longer towards the floor, and then he manually closes his jaws. ...only to open them to ask "thank you, good sir." *bow* "hmm, since the equilibrium has been unbalanced, what can we do about this? it doesn't look like things will correct itself either. do u have any more foresight regarding this task? if u prefer, we can move to a more hospitable environment, such as durandle's newly erected temple, a resident wizard's humble villa, or a simple, newly converted warehouse-headquarters. well, we've also heard how u arrived here at this sealed-up cellar, but how did u indeed end up here? we've heard tales of your original works regarding magick, and so why were u sealed in here w/ all these traps and creatures? were they of your own choosing or did someone do this to u?"

 

(Duhr)

"I'm not sure how to follow. I have to admit my insight into the subject has been pretty blind. I don't understand how it all ties in together. Adding to my confusion, we made an astral projection into the planes, where time must have passed, but none at all did here."

 

"So why would an equilibrium be a Bad Thing? Did that wizard's and/or my actions contribute to this in any way? Or are they just examples?"

 

(Crioth)

*realizes his jaws are quite slack again, he manually closes his jaws ... again.* "sorry about that."

 

(Melvin)

(to Crioth)

You, my friend, are not unlike a volcano - dormant for a long time, and without warning, you erupt into questions! I'll answer them as well as I am able.

 

There is a way to stop the process before it is too late, but I foresaw that I would require the assistance of an extraordinarily powerful priest of an extraplanar god. It was also clear to me that such an individual would not be available until well after the end of my natural lifespan. Hence, a magical, ageless sleep, to be broken only by the individuals I foresaw would eventually arrive. Some of the very same that were present at the creation of this world.

 

Naturally, I had to be sure that I would not be disturbed prematurely, and so I sealed myself away deep within the bowels of the earth. Things have changed a bit over the centuries - for example, the family of beholders that carved a lair out for themselves above the lake - but not enough to disturb my rest.

 

Of course, even below the earth's surface there are treasure-seekers who tread places they ought not to, so I devised a series of tests that would require the combined efforts of heroes such as yourselves to bypass. The door of three dials was a simple enough test, one that others have been able to pass. The room of the golem's challenge, however, required a mighty and honorable hero - honorable enough not to seek unfair assistance (any attempting to do so would find themselves confronted with additional golems to even things up), but strong of arm enough to beat the golem fair and square - Lord Crioth succeeded where all others had failed. The weights of authority and balance required an analytical thinker experienced with mechanical devices, and Master Eni was more than up to the challenge. The Riddle of the Nine required the pooled efforts of all of you *gesturing around to the statues* but you solved it with no trouble at all. And here you are.

 

(to Duhr)

The astral journey you took is well known to me, for as I dreamt, the pathways of the mind were the easiest of all to see into. Yes, it worked, and seemingly with no ill effect; this is because astral travel is to some extent not "real". It is purely a mental projection, almost like a dream. And at the same time, it is real, because it can have effects in the real world. A difficult thing to wrap one's brain around. The power of your deity was able to make the mental journey line up with the time flow of both worlds, but again, at a price.

 

The word "equilibrium" is perhaps not suitable for what I am describing. For the fabric of reality to sort itself out (and sort itself out it will), your world and ours must be brought into the same relativistic frame. Only then will time and space no longer need to "stretch" in order to accomodate all of the stress being placed on it - and yes, that stress is a direct result of people in this world tampering with other relativistic frames. As I said, there is a reason I did not teach any of those magicks to any of my students; the consequences would have been disastrous.

 

And when I say that our worlds must be brought into the same relativistic frame, I mean that their obvious differences in time flow and size must be reconciled. Our sphere must grow to the size of yours, at the same time our time flow slows to match yours. The unfortunate side effect of that shift, of course, would be that everything on your home planet would be destroyed. Or possibly that our sphere itself would rupture while trying to expand. Or possibly both. Either way, it's bad.

 

(Duhr)

Remembering his temple in Seacrest, "Very bad indeed."

 

"You say our worlds much be brought into the same relativistic frame, but why are we to risk such dire consequences to their very existance? Or is it just unavoidable? Surely there must be something we can do to spare both sides."

 

Brushes off the dust accumulating on everyone but Crioth. Taps Crioth on the shoulder and nods his head towards a chair.

 

"And excuse me for overhearing. You mentioned the assistance of an extraordinarily powerful priest, of which I am not, yet I am a capable one nonetheless. The mighty Tharon is sure to be more than enough... even for what I lack. But what kind of assistance did you mean?"

 

(Melvin)

A course of events has been set in motion that cannot now be altered. This much is clear to me. You have brought the people here knowledge of the extraplanar gods, and in turn, the extraplanar gods now know of this world and how to reach it. Rest assured that although Tharon may be the first of these deities to make his presence felt on this world, he will not be the last. And as I said, every contact with these external powers brings this world closer to equilibrium with the rest of the cosmos.

 

The expansion of our sphere is therefore unavoidable, and the only course of action available to us now is to give it its proper place in the multiverse. One crystal sphere is simply not meant to hold another, but such inversions of the natural order are what happens when mortals meddle with powerful artifacts beyond their ken. Since one sphere shattering the other is clearly not desirable, we shall have to relocate this one to the empty phlogiston, and thus restore the natural order.

 

I believe it is possible for me to work a spell to transport this entire sphere to its rightful place. The key word is "possible." Nothing short of a miracle could ensure that I would succeed. And that, Durandle, is where you figure in all of this... and that is why I have been waiting these long centuries for you and your companions to arrive.

 

(Duhr)

"A miracle? Indeed the task is not light. But it is... possible. When do you wish to start, and what else would you have us do?"

 

(Melvin)

Assuming you ever wish to return to your homeland, I would recommend that Master Leuthwinmar be at the ready to reverse his spell that brought you here -- once my spell is complete, his will no longer be sufficient to bring you back, and I can't guarantee that he or I would be able to devise an alternate route in a timely fashion. I will require some time - perhaps a month - to make the spell ready. I doubt the world will implode before then.

 

(Duhr)

Nodding, "Is there anything else we should do in the mean time? That is aside from securing our return trip? And where will you be preparing this spell? Leuthwinmar has had the fortune of aquiring a successful lab, which I'm sure he'd be willing to share should you need its services."

 

"This is a long shot, but I was wondering if the name Cthulhu meant anything to you."

 

(Melvin)

*eyes grow wide* Speak not that name aloud! *looks around* This place is no longer safe. NOS PROPERO!

 

(You suddenly find yourself standing in the clearing you started in. The ground still bears the scars of the Earthquake spell, although it seems to be stable now that the spell has ended.)

 

Be careful when speaking of powerful elder beings, Durandle, even those who lie in deathlike sleep. You may get more attention from them than you bargained for.

 

I can tell you what I know of this individual. Let us begin walking, though. I have been cooped up in that cave for far too long, and my legs need to stretch. *begins walking toward town, using his staff as a walking stick*

 

(Duhr)

Instinctively ducks. "Pardon, for I did not know."

 

Keeping up with Melvin, hoping he'll continue. Casually points out the direction to the city.

 

(Melvin)

I have slept for many years, and in much of that time, I dreamt. In my dreams I have traveled far and wide, and I have more or less kept up with the goings on in the world above me, particularly your arrival and many of your doings. The instant of the creation of this sphere reverberates through the ether even now, which is how I came to know of some of you in the first place (though I confess to being a bit surprised when you arrived here without Sir Yzahak). I was not the only dreamer who roamed beyond the confines of his own mind, however. Nor by any means the most powerful. The one whose name you mentioned lies even now, imprisoned in his vault in R'lyeh. There he was sealed by the Great Old Ones, eons before human or elf walked the face of your world, and there he has waited for time unmarked, neither dead nor alive.

 

The shock of this world's sudden birth has made his sleep restless, and his followers now hasten to pave the way for the End Times, when the Elder Sign shall be broken, and he shall come forth in all his hideous might. Let the world weep then, for his hunger is an entity unto itself, and will not be slaked. Only his cultists will be spared, so that they may establish a new world order in his accursed name.

 

(Melvin has a faraway look in his eye. He shakes his head, looks at Duhr, and smiles ruefully.) But you knew all that already, if I'm not mistaken.

 

(Duhr)

Smirks and sucks on a tooth, "Unfortunately so."

 

"The thing is, we originally came here with the intentions of finding some means to defeat... the one I just mentioned... or at least prevent... the one I just mention... 's... return. At least I was instructed that our coming here would be helpful. Do you have any idea of what I could be talking about? Does what you propose to save our worlds have anything to do with it?"

 

(Melvin)

There is a chance that the End Times can be postponed and your world saved. The unholy book that you found may yet be of use.

 

There is no fighting an immortal being. This is simple fact. Were you to face your foe at the height of his power, your fate would be so grim as to cause madness in those witnessing it. The solution, then, should be as plain as the nose on your face. Make your foe mortal, nullify his divinity in some way, even temporarily, and you have a chance.

 

The cult shall assemble in R'lyeh at the appointed time, and they shall call their god back into the waking world by means of hideous rituals. If disrupted in just the right fashion, though, it may delay the return of the Old One's powers, and leave him as ordinary a mortal as he ever was. For a time, in any case. It is then a simple matter of destroying his corporeal form, entrapping his soul before it can reform his body, empowering the Elder Sign that will bind him to R'lyeh once again, and sinking R'lyeh below the waves lest any mortal stumble upon it and tamper once again with the powers there.

 

(Eni)

At this point, Eni speaks up, finally focused on the present, instead of haunting memories of a particularly annoying talking door, needing to say the name of Gods Who Mustn't Be Named. "Knowing what we need to do. Okay... But where is Ry'leh and when is this appointed time?"

 

He then mutters under his breath, "Gods help me if I need to do some information gathering 'round here about where and when..."

 

(Melvin)

R'lyeh and the dark cult lie in your own world, Master Eni, not here. In fact, I would not be surprised to find members of the cult closer to home than you might think - He Who Must Not Be Named has always found more worshippers among coastal folk than any other. Be ever vigilant. And remember that you hold the dread Necronomicon, a book of great knowledge and evil power. You will need the information in its pages if you are to triumph, but be aware that your enemies could surely put it to their own vile uses. They may even learn its location from their god, especially if you have spoken his name within sight of the book and drawn his attention thence. If they do discover that you hold it, they will risk much to gain its power.

 

(Crioth)

*snaps out of his daze and stops pretending to be a zombie walking w/ his arms straight out, wipes off some dust and leaves some cobwebs for fun...*

 

"hmm, i think we have a slight advantage defensively as the necronomicon lies safely in our hands in an entirely different plane than its pursuers. but my curiosity bids me to ask if you will be accompanying us on our mission to prevent He Who Shall Not Be Named's awakening after we have corrected this planar sphere with the natural, relativistic order?"

 

*pulls out his waterskin* "oh, and would you like to taste real, fresh water once again considering your long slumber?" :)

 

(Melvin)

(to Duhr)

But to get back to your previous questions, Revered Son of Tharon. I shall not require the use of your borrowed laboratory. In fact, I confess a slight aversion to working in a place where the infernal arts have been practiced, though I would be interested in seeing this place in person at some later time.

 

From you and your god, I shall require no more and no less than a miracle at the appropriate time. I trust you know well enough what I mean. *winks semi-solemnly*

 

(to Crioth)

*accepts the drink and glugs gratefully* Lord Crioth, I am in your debt. All of this deep intellectual discussion made me forget about practical matters.

 

I will need to remain here to ensure completion of the spell, and after the spell is finished, our spheres will be separated by unimaginable distances. In any case, my place is here - there are huge gaps in magical knowledge that I mean to fill once it is safe to do so. After that, perhaps I can spend my remaining days on a tropical beach with a brightly colored drink in my hand.

 

(Crioth)

ah, no prob, that's the least i can offer. i'm beginning to wonder how i may be able to figure into all this preparation and spellcasting, or is the best thing i can do is to be completely out of the way?

 

(Melvin)

(to Crioth)

Just be sure that you're hanging onto Master Leuthwinmar as he reverses his spell, or you'll be taking an extended leave of absence from your lordly duties back home.

 

(to Duhr)

After that refreshing draught, I feel more up to elaborating on your problem. *closes eyes in concentration while somehow avoiding tripping* He has envisioned the ritual and thus I have seen it. What I have seen, I have tried to forget, but a few details do stand out. "What made its home in water shall be released by water." That phrase repeats itself in my mind. The ritual involves a focus of some sort. Something containing water, the element that this deity feels the strongest kinship with. The cult brings it to R'lyeh, having prepared it beforehand, and somehow it is involved in awakening the dreamer.

 

This is where your god must interpose himself. If you could replace the water in the focus with holy water, it would allow Tharon to grapple the evil one on the divine plane whilst you do battle with him on the mortal plane. Of course, getting to the focus beforehand and filling it with holy water will be no mean task, especially since it would have to be done without a single cultist suspecting anything.

 

If you are able to defeat him in his mortal form, a spell of Soul Binding should serve to prevent him from resuming corporeal form. You will then need to use the magick of the Elder Sign to seal him within his vault in R'lyeh, and a spell of Imprisonment to sink the entire mess below the sea.

 

*exhales* The path set before you is not an easy one. I do not envy you.

 

Ah, the town approaches.

 

(You arrive in town. Melvin seems to have some destination in mind, though you can't figure out what it is.)

 

Much has changed here. And at the same time, very little. Now, where did I leave my laboratory...

 

*stops dead in the center of the road* This looks like it.

 

(Melvin takes his staff up and strikes twice at the air in front of him. The first time does nothing; the second strike lands on solid wood with a loud KNOCK. A door has materialized from nowhere. Melvin opens the door wide, and you see inside what looks like a large, comfortably-furnished room with a merrily crackling fire, rows of books, and a lab table.)

 

I will let you know when I have completed the preparations. Try not to get in too much trouble while I'm away. *solemn wink*

 

And a piece of advice - I would not sleep in the evil one's building tonight, especially the underground complex. It gives me a bad feeling for some reason. *waves* Thank you, and good day to you all!

 

(The door closes behind him. Its outline wavers, and then it and Melvin are suddenly gone.)

 

(Crioth)

hmm, so where are we going to stay at now? :P i'm still curious as to why it's not a good idea to sleep at the evil one's place, so should we hire someone to keep a night watch on it for any odd occurrences? *shrug* 

 

(Duhr)

An excellent point, my friend. Maybe we should patron an inn of this fine town. For the more reckless souls, we could disregard the warning and all sleep there and take watches ourselves instead of putting someone else in possible perril. Or we could at least take turns keeping an eye on the place at the risk of not having fellows nearby. I think our best bet is Crioth's idea and have a mounted watchman come get us at the first sign of a disturbance. Unfortunately, I do not have the power to ward the place sufficiently, or the means for something a little more effective. If something were to happen, Tharon help whomever's there.

 

(Leuth)

Leuth finally finds and retrieves his jaw from where it had fallen to the floor and left him speechless.

 

(Alternatively, he could have only just recovered from having been scandalized by his normal shape... or whatever. :-p )

 

"All I have to say is that anything which would give a mage of that power 'a bad feeling' could probably eat any one of us for breakfast (or a midnight snack). And as far as any civilians are concerned... heh." A grim smile.

 

Leuth shakes his head. "No, I don't think we'd better leave anybody anywhere near the site unless it's us. And I can't say that I'm exactly itching to get back there after what he said."

 

"Durandle, I don't suppose there's room for us in your temple or thereabouts?"

Melvin's premonition turned out to be correct.  That night, the underground complex collapsed in on itself as the "hell gate" released a burst of negative energy, releasing a swarm of eromakadi (shadowy negative-energy devils) in the process.  Naturally, our heroes trudged into the resulting wreckage to do battle with the fiends and clean up after themselves.

It was a tough fight, but Durandle was able to hold the party together and ultimately destroy the fiends.  The party then promptly destroyed the Baator gate, lest it cause any further trouble.

"However, Leuthwinmar's spell will no longer suffice for travel between our worlds, and so this shall be farewell, at least for a time.  Who knows what magicks might be developed in the future that might allow us to travel across the boundaries.  In any case, time shall now pass equally in both of our spheres, so if you should discover a means of such travel within my lifetime, perhaps we shall meet again.  Look for me on a sunny beach."

The mighty mage cleared his throat.  "Make ready your spells."

And so, waving farewells to the friends and acquaintances they had made during their stay (including Seriah, who stood back with the gathered crowd of onlookers), the heroes joined hands.  As Melvin intoned the words to the spell that would move his entire universe, Durandle prayed for Tharon's intercession to help him succeed, and Leuth reversed his relativistic shift spell.