12/1/2018 Live Session Notes for The Rift: Part 4
As we move through the gulf, we spy strange markings at the base of the mountains. Glyphs are painted on the cliff faces, and engravings are carved nearer where the water splashes against the rocks. Some seem to depict crude humanoid forms hunting and skinning prey, or what looks to be eating it alive. Others vary between swarms of fish-like creatures worshipping a great dragon, to scenes of mass torture and destruction. A common theme seems to be some unintelligible language; words manically scratched on the stone over and over again, always accompanied by a pair of frightening red eyes with a jagged toothy smile.
After many long and careful days of sailing through the gulf, the humid, warm air welcomes us entrance into the Southern hemisphere. The sun beats a hazy mirage against the ocean’s surface, making it more difficult to decipher the distance between your ship and the water. We travel carefully, the glyphs on the mountains growing more frequent. Even the white, slender mountains along the seam of the gulf, which have also become more frequent and closely packed together, seem etched and pockmarked with stories of some sort.
Thorin gazes down below, noticing dark figures swimming in the water. He squints his eyes to get a good look, but in the bright light it just looks like a large shoal of fish. He shrugs and continues onward.
After a few quiet minutes, a whistling fills the air and we feel the vessel shutter. A creaking and popping metal sound resonates through the ship and we feel it lurch downward.
Below, dozens of vile, amphibious humanoids breach the surface of the sea, grasping strong ropes and serrated spears. Their fish-like heads bulge with silver eyes, and sadistic, hungry expressions twisting their mottled green skin. More kuo-toa, it seems, eager for our death and treasure.
A cacophony of noise erupts as they launch another attack on the ship, flinging their spears with incredible strength and accuracy. The weapons pierce the hull and blimp, and countless more creatures below pull your vessel seaward.
As we lurch closer to the water, we can see more creatures standing among the rocks on the nearest shore. These appear larger and more robust, 6 feet tall, green skinned with dark stripes and spots. All carry fierce looking hooked spears and tridents in their webbed hands, their bodies and finned tails encased in piecemeal armor. A small handful of them seem to be holding twice the weaponry, as a second pair of arms protrudes from their midsection. These… are sahuagin.
One larger, flabby beast, about 7 feet tall and covered in beaded jewelry, holds a twisted staff with a large crystal in one claw. His fins are all crimson red in color, with teeth and rings pierced through them. He roars, chanting to his warriors. The kuo-toa heed his call, and climb up nimbly to the ship.
We scramble to fight on deck, Rodrick running for Firelord. Armella stands firm, watching the kuo-toa climb over the rails.
They hiss and jeer at her, rushing forward to attack as a group. She lifts her mace, ready. Their spears bend and break against her armor, and with a large sweeping motion she batters their skulls. They try again and again, without avail. Armella continues to dispatch them, one by one, until they dare not approach her further.
Thorin, unable to steer any further with the ropes pulling them down, exits the helm and lifts his omnistaff. Turning to the other railings where more kuo-toa swarm up the sides, he fires off a blast of energy in their direction. They screech loudly as they are blasted back. Some are knocked prone, others are flung from the ship.
Firelord, all charged and ready to go, grabs his large sword Infernus. As he climbs back to the deck to jump down to shore, Mutiger comes up and climbs on his back, eager to join the fray.
They leap down, slamming into the beach below. The tremor causes the sahuagin to stumble, but they rush toward the machine without pause.
The two fight through wave after wave of monsters, Mutiger going into a rage and, ignoring all slashes and strikes into his body, wastes the slimy, scaly creatures with an unshaken ferocity. Firelord slices through the hordes with his massive flaming sword, fuel erupting down the sides.
The lizard priest grumbles, turning toward the strange mechanical beast. He blasts it with a large bolt of energy from his staff, which shatters into pieces when it strikes the metal. Firelord just stumbles, dropping Infernus.
The lizard priest raises his staff, which glows with a terrifying, pulsating blue aura, and slams it to the ground. The crystal from the top of his staff snaps free. Water rushes towards him from the sea, swirling and growing into a massive, vaguely humanoid shape 10 feet tall, the crystal at its heart. It smoothly slides forward in the sea, beating against the ship and trying to suck up its enemies to drown them.
Turning toward the priest, Firelord and Mutiger look at one another. Firelord grabs him, rears back, and purges all of his fuel as he throws Mutiger toward the priest. The flaming plume of smoke and fire broil all the enemies surrounding them, and Mutiger rockets forward, his sword out and pointed in front of him.
The priest grits his teeth, firing another blast at Firelord. It strikes the metal and seeps inside to Rodrick, who has a rippling effect of magic wash over his body. From paralysis, to blindness, to deafness, to muteness, he thrashes about as they fade in and out, climbing from his cockpit. They disappear and leave him with a since of insanity, seeing his bones through his hands—unable to close his eyelids as he can see through them. He can see sound, he can hear atoms move and muscles tighten and relax. Completely caught up in these physical changes, he struggles to keep his mind intact.
Not a second after firing this magic, Mutiger slams into the priest in a fiery ball of fury. The sword slices through the fat beast, clear through to the hilt, and bludgeons them both against the rocky crags nearby. The priest is little more than a greasy smear against the surf, and Mutiger staggers away, almost collapsing on the shore with all of his injuries.
The massive form of the water elemental steps back as more water rushes from the sea to engorge it. We see it swell, growing into a gargantuan form 100 times larger than before. Squealing cries from the remaining monsters ring out in the air as they are crushed underfoot or drowned in the depths of the watery elemental beast. All those who can, immediately make their escape back to the sea. Towering above the ship, it begins to suck up broken spears, stones and even the dead. The forms of the lizard-folk spin wildly around the crystal as meaty husks of armor, raw energy building in the now brackish water. An area where its face would be extends down into a gaping maw, spearheads and rocks making up jagged teeth, and a roar like that of a typhoon erupts from its depths as it charges towards our ship.
From up above, atop one of the craggy mountain precipices, we catch the glint of metal, and a guttural cry. Down dives a figure in a red blur, slamming into the monstrosity’s head, breaking apart the bodies and spears and slicing through the elemental heart in an instant. It shatters with crackling lightning, and all at once, the water falls back whence it came.
The figure leaps from the expired beast and lands easily aboard your ship, the floorboards creaking. Tattered clothes decorate what looks to be a muscular old man, with a short gray beard and bald head, gleaming in the sun. His eyes flash red, at each of you, and return to a natural color as he stows his weapons, two ancient and tribal looking blades.
“What on this great earth are you doing here?”
* * *
We learn this is Balgor, one of the ancient beings from thousands of years ago. “I am Balgor, son of Elgarr, once the mighty God of Slaughter! Now I am no more.”
He finds our errand here to be one of intrigue and desperation, that things must truly be bad if we hoped to find safety in the Rift. “You are definitely a strange group of adventurers…”
Armella stands next to Thorin, "He's the second person to call our group strange. Granted the first was an odd beast, but still. Are we really that odd Thorin?"
“Well yes and no. We a strange gathered group. I mean you from the church and half our group is of magical descent.”
She shrugs, "I guess you're right, perhaps I'm just used to it now.”
“That be the truth, I guess we have all gotten accustomed to our group.” He shrugs as well, and starts back to the helm. He makes to bring the airship over to Firelord, Rodrick, and Mutiger.
Balgor jumps to the shore without a thought, and seeing Rodrick’s thrashing mental and physical anguish, sets all of his magic right again. “You are... shattered. You are like my crystal.” He leaves to survey the area.
Rodrick sighs with relief, but before he fully relaxes, he points his glove at Mutiger and use his nanite surge beam to heal him a bit. Mutiger stands and strumbles over, leaning on Firelord. He reaches into his belt and pulls out an axe. It has an intricate head of a wolf designed on it.
He hands it to Rodrick, “You are like the wolf. You fight. You protect those in your pack. This is for you.”
He takes it and a tear comes to his eye. “Thank you, Mutiger.” Rodrick looks at the axe in his hands, running his fingers across the engravings.
Rodrick leans on Mutiger's leg, looking at Balgor. "I'm glad he's reasonable, I don't think we'd fare too well against him in our state."
Thorin parked the ship, and came out to check on Rodrick and Mutiger. “Mutiger, are you okay? You look like you’re on your death bed.” The tiefling shrugs and leans heavily on his sword. Thorin touches him on the shoulder, and uses his medic kit to bandage him up.
They return to the ship, and continue to discuss important details. Thorin talks about his hunt for crystals and the hoard of Dragonicos, which Balgor takes interest in. “I too, have a crystal…” Upon showing the strange man his own, Thorin’s crystals magnetically snap into place on Balgor’s, which is now about the size of a football.
“Your parents were good keepers of my crystals… I used to use these to travel to and from my home, in the celestial plane. When magic broke…. my planar crystal that shattered the moment it happened. I’ve gathered as many pieces as I could, but it has never been enough to return me home to my friends.”
“The only other way back was through the portal we created together… in Dolor. The last bastion of magic in Terra. But that didn’t last long… disappeared over 3,000 years ago. I returned and the whole city was gone, obliterated! Carved out of the crust by war and destruction of you mortals. Never seen anything like it. Like... some giant just scooped it up and carried it away.”
He also noticed Thorin’s strange injury from the acrid breath of the undead dragon. Looking at his skin, he commented, “That looks like Obsidian Rot… I haven’t seen that in almost two thousand years…” With some unknown power, he causes it to flake away, and Thorin’s skin returns to normal.
Among the conversations we all have together, Balgor looks standoff-ish.
“This place is cursed. It’s a fitting place for someone like me. And my belongings are my own, and not for some fool-hearty pirates to plunder.”
He and Thorin continue to talk at length, and discuss some of the strange happenings in the world—including the floating island with a strange box on top. Balgor is surprised to hear of it, but shrugs it off. So many strange magical things exist in the Rift, it’s not too odd to hear of weird happenings.
Upon seeing Armella and her paladin armor, he seems to get a manic gleam in his eye and approaches her to attack her. The others stand in front of her, protecting her. Balgor stops and shakes his head. “Sorry… old tendencies.”
“Perhaps you mortals know me by another name… the curse that befell the city of Pertesh? Does that name ring any bells?” The others remember Pertesh from the writings of the church, the city that was doomed before Tarj first came to Terra, and saved all the people there.
“I liked mortals once. Until the madness that fell after the Rend. Even I, who delighted in the slaughter of my enemies, could see the doom that was being brought upon this accursed rock. I fought for good, for righteous people. I slew their enemies by the thousands. But everyone… was their neighbor’s enemy.”
“I thought Pertesh was different, one of a kind. But one night I woke to find madness had overtaken me. Their blood was on my hands, every single man, woman and child. By my hand I somehow destroyed the last good thing I’d ever seen in this world. 1,522 years ago. I count every day of this purgatory, since that night.”
“I’m trapped here… unable to return to my home in the cosmos. When the weave was lost, so too was our travel to other planes. Pah… You don’t think you’re the only ones to exist, do you?”
He grumbles. “Your ship’s a mess… I suppose you won’t survive the trip back. Come with me, and I’ll lead you to where some supplies are. The sooner you fix your ship, the sooner you stop bothering me.”