As G's group came around the last building on this section of the street, the sight of the converted dwarven structure that now served as the Queen's palace and gardens struck them. G marveled at the tranquil beauty of the gardens enveloping the palace. Stone pathways wound through clusters of mushroom gardens, with small streams of water gurgling through the landscape in a serene, zen-like manner. The bioluminescent glow cast a greenish-blue hue across the garden, enhancing the serene atmosphere.
To the right, wide ramps led up to the platform where the astral ship was berthed. Along the ramps, dark elvish sentries patrolled the area, clad in dark leather and metal armor. As the group moved closer, the details of the ship became clearer, revealing intricate octagonal designs carved into the metal structure. G could feel the energy emanating from the ship, a pulsing hum that made the air shimmer as if from a haze of heat.
The fresh scent of soil mixed with ozone and mushrooms. Water trickled, leaves rustled, and insects chirped softly. Approaching the ship, G noticed the intricate runes etched into the metal, glowing with a soft blue light. The elvish guards, their eyes darting nervously, barely glanced at them, too focused on the looming threat in the city to care about another fleeing group.
A gated entrance led to a work road that ran directly to the ship behind the gardens and palace. The scene was a stark contrast to the chaos and danger of the city they had just fled. G and Phan exchanged a quick nod and, with a shared sense of urgency, broke away from the group, their strides purposeful as they headed towards the main entrance of the grand dwarven building. This entrance was now adorned with purple banners and detailed stone carvings of dark elf royalty standing ten meters high, etched into the walls.
The mushroom garden was oddly quiet, with no guards patrolling the area. The absence of guards puzzled G. Were they fighting the murderous spirit, or had they abandoned their posts in fear?
They stuck to the road in front of the buildings, avoiding the garden to keep the palace out of sight. G reached into the bag he had bought at the goblin shop days earlier.
Goblin's Fireworks
Description: These small, handcrafted pouches are fashioned from a durable yet lightweight material, often made from the treated skin of subterranean creatures. Each pouch is meticulously filled with a vibrant mixture of alchemically treated powders and magic, the result of goblin ingenuity and their penchant for mischief. The powders are composed of various minerals and arcane reagents, ground to a fine consistency, which, when combined, create a dazzling reaction upon impact.
When hurled with enough force, a Goblin's Firework will erupt with a resounding BANG, releasing a dazzling display of colors and light. The explosion is accompanied by a shower of sparks, which cascade and dance through the air, creating intricate, mesmerizing patterns that can captivate an audience or cause confusion and disarray in a combat scenario.
While the Goblin's Fireworks are non-lethal by design, they can still be hazardous in close proximity, and users are advised to handle them with caution.
G had examined the pouch multiple times and was convinced he could improve it. But now, he just wanted more magic. A lot more.
"Tocai, are you ready to try this?" G asked, focusing intently on the pouch, his voice a mix of excitement and anxiety.
"Yes, touch it to my surface for a moment. You will have to throw it away from you once I do this. If it explodes in your hand, I'm not to blame. This was your idea," said Tocai with a bit of that 'I told you so' sarcasm that often follows the famous phrase, "Hey y'all, watch this."
"It's fine, it'll work. Let's do this," G said, taking a deep breath. He watched mana flow into the pouch, colorful flecks from the Elemental Storm Orb swirling. The bag vibrated and bulged as if alive.
He signaled to Phan with a hand wave, who nodded in silent agreement. G stood nervously on the side road near the lush royal gardens of Mirbor, the underground city's vast cavernous ceiling towering above as Tocai pushed mana into the magical goblin pouch. As the soft glow of bioluminescent flora illuminated the surroundings, G knew that the moment had come to initiate his daring and most likely foolish plan.
"Now!" Tocai commanded, his tone leaving no room for hesitation.
G held a goblin firework in his hands, wiggling as if alive and trying to break free of his grasp. He threw it hard down the roadway and moved quickly off into the darker part before the pouch even hit the street.
"How much mana did you put into it, Tocai?" G asked as he moved around a wall and into the edge of the garden, where he crouched low with Phan, using the large mushroom bloom around them as concealment. It was darker here, and he was certain their dark robes would be hard to spot.
"190 mana," said Tocai proudly.
"What! That's everything," G thought, panic surging through him just as it happened. There was a deafening boom, and G was blinded by the intense kaleidoscope of light. His goggles took a bit of the edge off the burst of light in the darkness, but it still hurt, and his eyes immediately started to water from the pain.
WHOOSH! The firework rocketed upward, the vibrant colors streaking through the subterranean air. As it reached the cavern's ceiling, it exploded into a mesmerizing display of brilliant lights and deafening booms, echoing throughout the entire city of Mirbor. G's goggles adjusted somewhat, letting him see a bit as his vision returned. Phan looked absolutely pissed and amazed at the same time. The small pouch, which he hoped would be a good roman candle-sized display, turned into a small mushroom cloud of magical lights and sounds. The explosion caused no damage, but the magical pulse and intense lights made him squint as he watched the column of color and light race up to the ceiling of the cavern, mushrooming out in all directions like a mad magical storm cloud.
Phan looked at him, half startled, then nodded, realizing she had also been mesmerized by the light show.
For several minutes, the magical fireworks continued to dazzle and astonish, bathing the cavern in a symphony of colors. Reds and blues danced alongside greens and yellows, each burst more magnificent than the last, holding the attention of all who witnessed it. One patrol came running down the boulevard, then turned down the street toward where the explosion had sounded, but G had expected guards and onlookers to gawk or at least come outside, but no one stirred, neither from the guard posts nor the palace.
G hunched over, feigning a bent back, while Kargan pretended to aid him, walking slowly and deliberately towards the doors Kargan indicated. As they approached the side entrance of the throne room, G and Phan found themselves under a shadowy portico that stretched along the building's facade. The covered walkway, supported by columns intricately carved with menacing dark elf figures, seemed to emanate an unsettling aura that sent shivers down their spines. The flickering torchlight cast eerie shadows, making the carved figures seem alive, watching their every move.
The portico's ceiling was adorned with deep crimson banners emblazoned with the dark, twisted heraldry of the ruling family. The banners hung heavily, barely stirring in the stale air, as if burdened by countless sinister secrets. The stone floor beneath their feet was cold and unforgiving, echoing their cautious footsteps and amplifying the sense of unease that filled the air.
As G and Phan stepped through the side entrance and into the throne room, they were greeted by an oppressive silence. The vast chamber, usually filled with the chatter of courtiers and the clatter of armor, was now eerily empty and devoid of life. Flickering red torches cast long, distorted shadows that seemed to slither and dance across the floor, creating an ominous atmosphere. The dark purple walls, lined with a gallery of statues depicting scenes of dismay and torture of other fantasy races, added to the sinister environment.
G and Phan exchanged a nervous glance, keenly aware of the disquieting emptiness that engulfed them. Despite no visible threat, they couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, as if the very walls themselves were alive with malevolent intent.
G's eyes were drawn to the throne at the end of the room. The dark elf throne was carved from black stone, adorned with sharp, menacing spikes and twisted designs. The armrests resembled grasping claws, and the high back was decorated with intricate carvings of suffering and torment. G couldn't help but think, The dark elves are worse than I imagined. This throne, these statues... they revel in the pain of others.
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They paused when they saw what was in the throne room near the giant doors. A massive sphere suspended in mid-air near the large entrance doors, which were wide open to the garden, caught their attention. The sphere slowly rotated, casting off mesmerizing sparks that illuminated the darkness with an eerie glow.
Through the open doors, G could see and hear the spectacular light display created by the firework, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the garden and the cavern ceiling above. The fireworks and the rotating sphere created a surreal and unsettling atmosphere.
G found it hard to look away from the mysterious sphere, its enchanting and ominous presence sending a shiver down his spine. The way it seemed to defy gravity and throw off sparks was both magical and frightening, as if it had the power to create or destroy at a whim.
G analyzed the sphere.
Artifact: Sphere of Containment
Description: The Sphere of Containment is a massive, translucent orb, around 2 meters in diameter, which slowly rotates in mid-air, casting off mesmerizing sparks that illuminate the darkness with an eerie glow. The sphere seems to defy gravity, hovering several feet above the ground. The enchantments woven into the sphere are ancient and powerful, imbued with divine energy that resonates with a spellcaster's arcane senses.
History: The Sphere of Containment was created by a god who once watched over the city of Mirbor but has since vanished from the pantheon. This god had crafted the sphere with the intention of capturing a dark spirit that plagued the city, harnessing it before it could destroy its followers. However, before the god could carry out his plan, he disappeared, leaving the sphere behind.
Effects:
Spirit Detection: You can sense the presence of powerful spirits, elementals, and aberrations within 1 mile of the sphere. You know the general direction and distance to each detected creature but not its specific location or identity.
Spirit Containment: As an action, you can attempt to trap a spirit, elemental, or aberration within the Sphere of Containment. The targeted creature must succeed on a DC 20 Charisma saving throw or be magically drawn into the sphere, where it remains imprisoned. The sphere can hold only one creature at a time. Releasing a trapped creature requires a command word known only to the attuned spellcaster.
Spirit Communication: While a creature is trapped within the sphere, you can communicate with it telepathically, regardless of whether you share a common language. You can attempt to extract information, bargain, or negotiate with the trapped creature, but it is not compelled to cooperate.
G stared at the giant sphere. The nobles of Mirbor must have placed it here, knowing that the dark spirit would eventually be drawn to it, using it as a means of protection. Was that why the room was now empty? G looked down at his ring again, willing the optimism up a notch. He knew something was off here, but he had set this all in motion. Or had he? Dr. Reamus kept turning up at the worst times for him. Was he truly the god of mischief? G took a deep breath, bringing his thoughts back into focus. Kargan motioned toward a stairway that led downward.
Despite his unease, G forced himself to focus on his mission. G, Phan, and Kargan descended the ancient stone staircase that led to the dungeon beneath the throne hall. The stairs were narrow and uneven, slick with moisture from the damp, oppressive air that seemed to close in around them. The lichen that grew along the walls casting long, twisted shadows that danced upon the walls, giving the dungeon a haunting, nightmarish quality.
As they ventured further into the darkness, they felt the weight of countless suffering souls bearing down upon them. The air was thick with despair and the lingering remnants of long-forgotten pain. Each of them felt the oppressive atmosphere settling upon their shoulders, a silent burden that threatened to crush their resolve.
In the large chamber at the bottom of the stairs, they discovered rows of suspended cages, each hanging from rusted chains that creaked eerily with the slightest movement. The cages contained the remains of some sort of sentient crustacean creatures that looked bipedal, all in the early stages of decay. There were five of them, their rotting flesh giving off the smell of old fish. Their lifeless eyes seemed to stare accusingly at the intruders.
G scanned the room, searching for any sign of Riclos. His heart pounded in his chest as the sense of urgency and desperation grew with each passing moment. Finally, he spotted Riclos slumped unconscious in one of the cages near the back of the room.
Phan whispered, "There is a human… is that him?."
Kargan nodded, gripping his weapon tightly. "Stay alert. We don't know what else might be lurking down here."
As they approached the cage, G noticed that the lock was of an unusual design, requiring a combination of physical manipulation and arcane energy to open. He called upon his knowledge of both mundane and magical mechanisms, working feverishly to decipher the lock.
Phan tapped his shoulder, "I can open this." G nodded to her and took up a position opposite Kargan, watching the stairs leading back to the throne room while Kargan watched the hallway that contained heavily locked doors.
G kept watch, his eyes darting around the chamber, searching for any signs of danger. Breamus, if you're watching, make this work out, he muttered under his breath. It took him a moment to realize he had spoken aloud, and the thought struck him like a lightning bolt: Am I praying to Breamus now? The idea was unsettling. Breamus, the god of mischief, could hardly be counted on for straightforward help.
But maybe, G mused, just maybe, there's a twisted sort of luck in that. He couldn't deny that Breamus had a knack for appearing at pivotal moments. This realization brought an unexpected calm over him. He felt a strange shift within himself, as if a spark of chaotic energy had ignited in his core. It was as if invoking Breamus had imbued him with a bit of the deity's unpredictable power, sharpening his senses and attuning him to the ebb and flow of the surrounding magic.
Alright, Breamus, G thought, let's see what kind of tricks you have up your sleeve. With renewed focus, he kept watch, his eyes darting around the chamber, searching for any signs of danger. Kargan, feeling the weight of the situation, muttered a silent prayer to his own patron deity, asking for protection and guidance.
After several tense minutes, Phan managed to unlock the cage, placing a small box she had used on the lock back in her belt pouch. The door creaked open, and G rushed in to support Riclos, carefully lifting him out of the cage. Riclos stirred, his eyes fluttering open as he weakly whispered, "This is a trap."
G nodded. He knew he had little choice in the matter. It was save Riclos now or don't save him ever. He had made a promise to return his items and accompany him to remove the ring, and G kept his promises.
All they had to do now was slip back out to the ship. Given that the place was deserted, it should be simple. G handed Riclos a bottle of water and watched as he drank the majority of it. The older man looked like he had lost some weight.
After being released from the hanging cage, Riclos was a mere shadow of his former self. The once imposing figure was now gaunt and haggard, his cheeks hollow and his eyes sunken from dehydration and the physical toll of captivity. The proud priest's fair complexion was marred by a sheen of sweat and grime, his silvered hair now matted and unkempt.
His thick leather coat hung limply from his emaciated frame. The fur trim seemed to offer little comfort as Riclos shivered involuntarily from some unfelt chill of the dungeon. His sturdy garments were stained and torn.
Riclos' ice-blue eyes, once bright with faith and determination, now held a haunting weariness. Once strong and authoritative, his voice was now barely a raspy whisper.
G waited for him to finish the bottle of water, taking it back empty. "Can you walk?"
Riclos pushed away the hands that were holding him up. "Yes. Why did you come? This is a trap."
"Dr. Reamus told me to take the ship. It's outside the throne hall, hanging above the center of the city. You were on the way," G said with a smile.
"Breamus sent you here?" Riclos coughed, hacking for a moment. "You would be wise not to follow his advice. He would just as soon get you all killed than help you."
G nodded slightly, agreeing. "Yeah, people keep telling me that. Let's hope this isn't one of those cases."
Riclos walked with a slight limp over to a small table where he gathered his fur-lined gloves, shoved them in his belt, and turned to follow G.
G kept watch, his eyes darting around the chamber, searching for any signs of danger. Breamus, if you're watching, make this work out, he muttered under his breath. It took him a moment to realize he had spoken aloud, and the thought struck him like a lightning bolt: Am I praying to Breamus now? The idea was unsettling. Breamus, the god of mischief, could hardly be counted on for straightforward help.
But maybe, G mused, just maybe, there's a twisted sort of luck in that. He couldn't deny that Breamus had a knack for appearing at pivotal moments. This realization brought an unexpected calm over him. He felt a strange shift within himself as if a spark of chaotic energy had ignited in his core. It was as if invoking Breamus had imbued him with a bit of the deity's unpredictable power, sharpening his senses and attuning him to the ebb and flow of the surrounding magic.
Upon emerging from the stairway into the throne room, G suddenly felt an intense, searing pain coursing through his body. His muscles seized, locking him in place as an invisible force gripped him tightly. He gritted his teeth, struggling to breathe as the G's pain intensified. Then, a section of the heavy curtains by the throne fell away, revealing Ryan and the Queen standing ominously. Now towering over two meters with a broad chest and a booming voice, Ryan stepped forward with a sinister grin. His transformation was striking, exuding power and menace, starkly contrasting his formerly thin, spindly software engineer physique.
"Going somewhere?" Ryan taunted, his eyes gleaming with malicious delight.
G's heart pounded as a troop of dark elven and hobgoblin guards pushed in through the main entrance in front of the giant containment orb. The scene turned more sinister by the second. Ryan's presence and the Queen's cold, calculating gaze made the air feel thick with impending doom.
Alright, Breamus, if ever there was a time for one of your tricks, it's now, G thought desperately, feeling the weight of the situation bearing down on him as he and the rest of the party froze in place, unable to move a muscle. Or was this one of those very moments when everyone kept warning him about the god of mischief getting everyone killed?