8. THE DUNGEON MASTER: You are alone on what for all you know could be a distant long-dead planet or the Seventh Circle of Hell. All around you there is naught but wasteland, and the only thing that remotely resembles a sign of civilization is the ruined metropolis in the distance. It is toward this city that you now begin a journey beneath a starry sky.
The silence is intense. No birds, no insects, no wind. Only the calm of patient death. Even your footfalls are noiseless against the scarlet sands.
In time, the void of sound is pierced by the voice of Anuril. "Where in Hell are we?" she inquires.
"Probably still in Avernus." answers Ice after some thought. "Just outside of Labyrinthus. We're lucky there aren't fiends crawling all over us by now."
Silence once again descends upon the party. Yet after a short while it is broken a second time, now by the man in black. "Alright, what in Hell is going on?"
"Here, I'm not sure." replies Eno. "Yet on the Prime....things are descending quite rapidly." The angelic knight appears intrigued by the possible connections between these two worlds.
"The evil empire across the sea has grown fat and complacent by raping the natural world....with technology." states the Ranger Farian Shadowstorm. "It thinks it can leech as much wealth and resources as it wants from any nation in the world, and that it can rule the world with an iron fist." His response seems to be that expected from a Wood Elf.
"The Tech-User Empire *does* have *some* good ideas," argues the Paladin meekly, "but it certainly didn't have to declare war on the world!"
"What Eno means to say," clarifies Life Force, another Paladin, "is that having been plagued by the fantastic and the inexplicable....generally anything they could not understand....for centuries...."
"And now having access to very powerful technology which they *do* understand...." adds the Samurai Manji.
"The Technology-Users have declared war on Magic itself." finishes Tim the Enchanter, who is actually a Mana Mage.
"But that's ridiculous!" exclaims Eno. "You can't declare war on something so nebulous as that! Such would give anyone the excuse to attack anything!"
"They are asking for some divine retribution." states Abadon the Despoiler, an Evoker. "When you torture the land by destroying its forests, it shall torture you by becoming desert. If you build great Ziggurats to reach the gods, they shall be smote from above."
"Things are changing so fast." adds Anuril the Mage. "These Tech-User realms....they're like entirely different worlds."
"I wonder...." mutters the Fighter/Paladin Logan (a.k.a. Wolverine). "I wonder....where this will all end."
You lift your gaze skyward, for you have reached the rotted city.
Standing at the outskirts of the wasteland metropolis, you can already see the decadent steel serpent quite clearly. Looming above you, it could easily be as long as four hundred feet: larger than any dragon that ever lived. Fortunately, such close examination reveals that it appears to be nothing more than an ancient statue.
Still, the Paladin Life Force stares in awe at the monumental fiend. This reminds him of another legend of his order, one of a fiend from the unspeakable realms who dwarfs the powers of the divine Bahamut. Dry-eyed and full of dread, Life Force attempts to put a name to the fiend, but cannot utter any from his lips. Instead, he turns very slowly from the horror above and suggests that everyone should back away from the vision before them.
The Necromancer Ice, too, seems concerned about the titanic dragon, yet he says nothing.
Tim, however, is not so silent. "I agree with Life Force." the Wizard states. "Let's get away from the demon-dragon-statue-thingy and find some shelter. This plane of Hell or whatever is just ruining my complexion." He then mumbles to noone in particular: "Great, out in the desert and me without my moisturizer... We go straight from Hell to a place about as hospitable as Hell."
Eventually you can avert your eyes from the dragon and look upon the ruined city lying all around you. It seems that it may once have encroached upon and covered far more of the desert, but that Mother Time has taken her Atropoic toll upon this place. The buildings skirting the city are almost completely destroyed, and you imagine that countless more ruins lie buried beneath the shifting scarlet sands.
The closest structure which still stands is a skyscraper that, while scarred, seems to be as tall now as the distant day it was constructed. The tower might provide you with protection from the elements and allow you to better chart your course through the cosmos. You start towards it.
Soon after you begin your short trek, Life Force speaks up: "I don't think we're in Avernus anymore, Eno."
"Hmmm...." replies Eno. "That is quite a possibility. This place does not feel entirely like a plane of Hell. It's not evil....just dead."
You keep walking. *I wonder how long we've been gone...* Tim thinks to himself. *Maybe we can find something helpful in this city, but I've got a bad feeling about it.*
When you reach the building, the Paladin Logan holds aloft the Sword of Fallen Frost and its brightness equals full torchlight. The blade sheds tiny snowflakelike crystals of pure light which dissipate into the air inches from its edge, heralding an early Canian winter for this rust-filled autumn.
The door of the tower has long ago fallen away, and the feral Paladin shines his sword into the darkened doorway. Squinting into the shadows there, Logan a.k.a. Wolverine can make out bits of what appear to be an ancient laboratory, including a number of large standing tubes filled with a strange green fluid and containing....what appear to be humynoid forms.
Wolverine turns from the doorway and tells the rest of the party of his findings.