Links to other sites on the WebYet that which is gothic can be traced back even further than that dark style of art and literature....to a time when a group of so-called barbarians dared to oppose a seemingly-unstoppable Empire.
12. THE DUNGEON MASTER: Numerous very good questions run through the minds of those paralyzed, but as they are helpless to voice them, the first inquisition comes from Abadon:
"Are there any other things that we have to worry about?" he asks. "Undead or otherwise?"
"I am uncertain what lies within these ruins." replies the dark-clad damsel. "But the taint of undeath echoes and reverberates throughout. I know not how this came to pass, but this is a magical place, and always has been."
"Magical?" asks The White Wolf incredulously. "It seems far more technological, my dear. Or can you not tell one from the other?"
The midnight maiden takes visible offense at this remark. She replies:
"Technological it is, primarily. Yet greater beings than thee know how to merge the two." Despite the womyn's haughty mannerism, she seems rather pleased with the ArchMage's appearance; perhaps even impressed. Still, the lady in leather focuses her attention on the handsome Paladin Eno, telling him:
She leads the holy warrior over to one of the chamber's walls, stopping before an alcove containing a hemisphere approximately one foot in diameter. It is covered in layers of dust like the wake of a great snowfall save for where the dark damsel clearly placed her hand quite recently. She instructs Eno to place his own hand where hers was.
The Paladin turns and stares deeply into the maiden's ebon eyes for a moment and then, seeming satisfied, swiftly turns away and does as told.
A faint light is visible even through the dense dust deposits which cover the orb. Eno's back arches and his body becomes rigid as though electricity were coursing through it. In a moment's passage, the Paladin has collapsed upon the floor.
Life Force readies his long sword. "What have you done to Eno?" The fellow holy warrior demands.
"Hold." replies the dusk-clad damsel. "He's fine; wait for a minute."
You do so, and in a matter of moments the Paladin Eno regains consciousness and begins to rise. "What happened?" asks Life Force of him.
"I saw....a world being born." replies the holy knight. "Life was exploding everywhere....and yet it was not life....it was....pain....death....eternal." The Paladin seems quite distant as he describes this to you.
"That is a monitor...." explains the dark armoured maiden, indicating the device Eno just touched. "A scrying device used to gaze upon various regions of this city. Deep within its Stygian tanks and terrariums one may find specimens of various life forms dating steadily backward until....nigh the beginning of life on this planet. Yet now the vile magic that taints this land has turned them all into unliving fossils."
Farian stares at her incredulously. "Who are you?" the Ranger asks.
"My name is Daksoalsipha." answers the midnight maiden, although Wolverine can tell that she seems rather uncertain of this. "I can tell you much of this city and how it came to be as it is."
"Please do." requests the Paladin Eno. "I find this whole realm....intriguing. Especially now."
"Yeah." agrees Wolverine. "The Tech-User Empire is supposed to have only been this high tech for less than a hundred years. This city seems much older."
"This city was not built by the Kazdarian empire." states Daksoalsipha the dark damsel. "It was not even built by humyn hands."
"If they didn't build it," asks The White Wolf, a smirk upon his face, "who did?"
At the mention of the name of those legendary serpents so oft spoken of in tales of Harmageddon, your speech falls silent. It is thus in voiceless reverie that you stand in the nightscape, this surreal realm from which one could enter any reality. From within your dark tower, your scarred and silent rusted skyscraper, you hear a howling wraithwind scatter the scarlet sands in the endless desert without; it is as though it is your final breath. The dungeon and the desert: the domains of the dead have been keeping you safe all this time. Yet now two worlds have become one. Even if you return to hiding in your mountain caves, hunted by the empire, it will be far more dire, desperate, and hopeless.
Daksoalsipha's dusk-drenched countenance seems apologetic in its sorrow. You know not how, yet still you feel the pain. That which was can never be again. You all desperately want something back, even if it is as ephemeral, ethereal, and insubstantial as innocence.
After many moments have past, the Paladin Eno speaks:
"So this is like the technology present in the Wyrmroost Mountains?"
"Exactly." replies Daksoalsipha the midnight maiden. "In the ancient times, long before humyns or elves had any civilization to speak of, dragons had already begun to develop technology just as they did magic. It was a long, steady progression, for you see the universe is governed by a myriad of complex....rules. While magic is a modification of these rules, technology is merely a manipulation of them."
As the dark lady lectures, she leans against one of the elven tubes. She folds her arms, and you notice a half smile upon her face. "It is a seductive thing, technology. It does not require intense, concentrated acts of will as magic does. You merely know the rules, and you command the beast. It, as anything that bestows power easily, breeds decadence."
Those who have been paralyzed feel a trembling of their eyelids and a twitching of their fingertips: the effects of the paralytic poison are fading away. "Ugh." states Ozymandias, finally regaining control of his vocal chords. "Where are we?"
Tim lifts himself off the floor, pulls up his skirt, and examines his leg. Seeing that the wound is not very bad -more of a chilling pinch than anything else- he seconds Ozymandias' question: "Yes, where exactly are we? The country and continent would be nice."
"The country is named after this city," replies Daksoalsipha, "but you will be more interested in the continent. We are in Kazdar: the Imperial Continent; the home of Emperor Geltar, and the land by which he judges all peoples."
Ice the Necromancer finds that the eye of the Larval Soul seems to have completely vanished; though the fist which clutched it appears to have frozen shut. The wizard fears to open it, and instead returns the discussion to its roots.
"What happened to the dragons who built this city?"
"War." states Daksoalsipha simply. "There came....a realization; that technology could not continue on indefinitely without a terrible price being paid. While magic takes from the soul, technology takes from the surroundings. In a matter of mere centuries....the dragons would have poisoned the land, perhaps irreparably. So there was a war fought, between two sides: those who would reject the destructive, rampant growth of industry and concentrate upon magic, and those who would continue with technology unchecked, regardless of the consequences. It was a cataclysmic war....one that threatened the very planet. But it was a war won by the Magic-Users. Now, over a thousand years later...."
"For the world sings now for war." finishes Daksoalsipha.
Silence once again in this rusted realm beneath a bejeweled velvet night sky. This is quite a lot to take in, and it proves that your dreaming of late has been far more than mere fantasy. The circumstances of which she speaks seem to weigh heavily upon the midnight maiden's mind, so Tim the enchanter changes the subject somewhat.
"What purpose is served by these cylinders?" asks the Mage, walking over to a broken tube and peering at the emptiness within.
"That is difficult to explain." begins Daksoalsipha once more, fresh from her previous difficult explanation. "To understand, you must have an inkling of an idea as to just how powerful dragon technology was. I have studied it to some extent, and it turns out that they had discovered the very secret of life."
"And just what exactly is the secret of life?" asks Farian Shadowstorm, enthralled.
"Within the blood...." answers Daksoalsipha, "there lies a code; an alchemical scroll which reveals exactly what something is. Using this code....one can create, or alter, any life form they wish. This code is written in acid."
She lifts her ebon blade and lets its dark fluid drip upon the steel floor of the catacomb. As each of the black tears impacts, it rises in white mist with a serpentine hiss. "So you see," states the dark damsel, "the acid is the life."
She continues. "Of course, this code is very complex. To discover what makes a dragon the way it is is very complicated; so much so that the dragons first completed....the code....for....simpler beings. Eventually the humyn code was discovered, and it was combined with a tiny amount....less than half a percent....of dragon code. Thus were created....elves."
As realization hits him, a flicker of fury is found in the normally frigid eyes of Icewind the Necromancer. "You mean to say," he asks, "that the glorious elven race is nothing more than a technological construct?"
Daksoalsipha pauses, a clearly worried expression on her face. She continues to choose her words carefully:
"No....the elves are....enhancements. The dragons saw humyns, observed them, and used science to create what they believed to be the perfect humyns: androgynous, long-lived, and beautiful."
I award you each 290 Experience Points for learning the true origin of elves, and a further 906 Experience Points each for learning of the Dragons' Ancient Industrial Age.
The Necromancer's maximum hit points are now 4, and his maximum soul integrity increments are now 2. Furthermore, he can now learn and use 2 additional 1rst-level arcane magic spells, provided that at least one of the two is from the school of necromancy. He must remember that he cannot learn or cast spells from the illusion or enchantment/charm schools.
The Thief's maximum hit points are now 8, and her maximum soul integrity increments are now 2. Furthermore, she now possesses a total of 90 percentage points to distribute among her thieving skills Pick Pockets (currently at a 25% chance of success), Open Locks (5%), Find/Remove Traps (5%), Move Silently (25%), Hide in Shadows (20%), Detect Noise (20%), Climb Walls (70%), and Read Languages (0%). She must remember that no more than 45 of her percentage points may be added to a single skill, and that none of her skills may exceed a 95% chance of success.
The Evoker's maximum hit points are now 7, and his maximum soul integrity increments are now 2. Furthermore, he can now learn and use 2 additional 1rst-level arcane magic spells, provided that at least one of the two is from the school of invocation/evocation. He must remember that he cannot learn or cast spells from the enchantment/charm or conjuration/summoning schools.
{It is thus amusing that although Tim the Enchanter is actually a Mage, he is one of the few spellcasters in the party who has access to enchantment magic! -TDM.}
The silence which descends whenever you cease speaking envelops you once more, bringing with it the same aura of hopelessness. None in this realm shall break it if you do not. The circumstances are epically daunting; yet still, the knowledge you have just gained strengthens your valour somewhat.
"It is as the epic quest." states Eno the Paladin. "Vanquished by a dragon or some similar force of great power, the heroes descend to the Underworld, where they wander and journey for some time until they at last emerge, and prevail."
"What does this city's name mean?" he asks.
"The city's name is Kazdreem." her full black lips savour the word. "It is the dragon tongue, and it means 'Greater Vision'."
The dark maiden gazes heavenward, though the heavens have been replaced by the rusted steel of the tower. "Greater vision...." She looks back upon the party. "We have a number of options at our disposal. We can raid these ruins for whatever treasure the dragons left here, though we would have to brave whatever dangers remain here as well. We can leave the way I came: through a portal in the Serpent Spyre that should take us back to Talamar and the Wyrmroost Mountains. There we could continue to fight our guerrilla war against the infidel invaders. Or...."
Daksoalsipha stares directly at you, apparently attempting to appraise you and your willingness to die for your cause. "We could take the war to the Empire. We could remain on this continent, journey to the Imperial capital, and perhaps destroy the Emperor himself."
"We have only a choice of evils." responds Eno.
The dark damsel glares at him, then smiles. "Very well then, my so-called 'holy warrior'; we could always embark on a long and fruitless 'quest for meaning', if you really feel like wasting time."
She gazes upon the rest of the party. "I have nothing left to lose. The choice is yours. The universe is full of possible choices, and as we shall all be just dust some night anyway, we might as well make one."
Indeed. The stage is now at last set for the story of Serpents & Sorcery to become far less linear for you. The decision you make now will dramatically alter the course of The Scenario of All Souls....forever.
Decide thy destiny.
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