Transcription of the Musings of Arcade Deltarion Regarding the Visit to the Academy of Flamecraft

Part 1.

I remember the flames.

The braziers flare like suns. The fire sweeps across the dais.

I did not expect the raw blast of heat, and at the last instant I doubt our wisdom in choosing this gate. Then I fear my own doubt, for in truth some gates are barred to those who are not without fear. A spiral then. The flames, too, swirl, and we are gone.

I expected a trap. The situation demanded one. The Academy of Flamecraft, lost for many centuries... even so it would never be undefended.

Expectations met. The derro must also have been surprised.

It was well that the Prismatic Walls guarded our flanks as we stood on the arrival platform, sheer drops on all sides and surrounded. Again the wand performs well.

We move with great speed; the shaman's lightning still faster. Another painful battle, completed with cost.

The scorched map from the shaman's belt proves nearly unreadable. We circle up the immense shaft on the wide stone ramps; scramble over the occasional gaps.

The silence, the heat, they are oppressive.

Finally the many-doored hallway. Alix (bumbling cretin) fawning over the cute, antennaed monster with a propeller on its tail. His belt buckle and nearly his weapons made sacrifice to its hunger. The thing prefers rich ore to coarse iron. Nolin tricks it into one of the few rooms with an intact stone door.

So little remains here that is whole. Empty corridors.

Cadrienne. It was not the lost library calling silently to her. Her holy book, ashes in dragonfire. She read my books for comfort, studying intently over my shoulder. Too intently? Should I have guessed the truth?

The deadly tapestry with teeth, and nearby the carapace and mandibles of a creature that once burrowed through solid rock. I shall remember its form for myself.

The lost chamber, it's walls, floor, ceiling covered in tiny precise runes. In the corner, the bones of the imprisoned genius. At the end scribing the runes with his blood and finger bones, too weak to effect his escape. With sufficient power and sanity, the walls might have become the impossible, a free-standing gate.

Another ambush. The derro, ready this time, still no match. Nine magic missiles? Kestellan? How did the pompous, conniving fool manage it? Still, I fail to guess. Cadrienne's smile... it was warm on my back.

The iron bottle stripped from Dargastal's ravaged corpse was occupied, but not by an innocent. Freed, the efreet thanks us and departs with promises of later service.

Kadraskus, genie edged in fire. Alix's eyes shine with greed. Who knows what deals he makes behind our backs?

Statues stare with flaming eyes, mesmerizing. Long-dead Masters of the Art, burning still.

A small scrap of burnt paper, forgotten. We are directed through the test of elements, to the chamber, the Room of Ceremony. With a "found" key, Cadrienne unlocks the door. Within, the Mirror stares back at us. Portals to Fire, Magma, Smoke, lurk beneath their tapestries, awaiting only the braziers' lash to disgorge hellish servants.

History plays across the Mirror, too fast to follow, as if obeying silent commands. An exit appears. The Mirror is also a portal. Home, crouching in the snowdrifts.

We depart. We relax, we eat, we drink. We are idiots. I am an idiot.

Too late, I finally comprehend and charge outside to effect rescue. The smoke spirals slowly up from the rune melted in the snow. Cadrienne is gone. She has been absent for some time, I think. The necklace gem, it seems, was also occupied. Mirata du Chemith has played us well.

Tao swears. Nolin despairs. Velendo berates God. We panic.

The note arrives. It is polite. The Headmistress of the Academy is nothing if not polite. Even her threats are polite.

She will return to power draped in our friend's flesh. We have been warned. It is time to be heroes.

 


Annotations

It was a deeply ambivalent set of Defenders that stepped onto the platform, lit the braziers, and teleported into the Academy of Flamecraft. They had just slain their first red dragon, Infernus, spawn of Tagachark. In so doing they had acquired a host of useful items: a Girdle of Giant Strength for Tao, a Blast Scepter for Tomtom, Boots of Striding and Springing for Alix, a Rod of Summoning for Arcade, a mysterious Iron Bottle with an unknown occupant, and three Ioun stones.

Now joining them was the cheerful Brother Caldicott of Celian, rescued from Chemia’s Mirror. He was small, round and pudgy, with a pink complexion and a shaven head. He was very excitable, and had laid into his high priest over something minor; for his transgression, he was sent on a solo quest to recover the Horrus Arkadanian. Instead, he had spent nearly 50 years in suspended animation. Arcade welcomed his company on the search for the legendary tome.

However, also coming along, largely against the party’s wishes, was Kestellan Soulcage, a weaselly apprentice fire mage. He had fled the Academy at the coming of the dragons, and been caught by the Mirror when he snuck back for his spellbooks. His demeanor made it clear that he was not to be trusted. It was also obvious that he did not intend to be of much assistance.

Cadrienne, cleric of Morphat, was morose and deeply depressed after losing her holy books to dragonfire. Worst of all, one of their stoutest allies, Grundo the dwarven battlerager, was gone forever, crushed to paste by the dragon.

As the flames cleared, the Defenders found themselves on a narrow platform, suspended over a chasm. They were surrounded by a huge, ring-shaped, stone gallery, carved into the shaft. They were also surrounded by a large number of derro, standing on the gallery. The derro opened fire from all sides. A few Prismatic Walls were thrown up to stop the flanking missile attacks. Tao leapt to the gallery and was mobbed. Though she fought her way clear, her long braid (a source of much pride), was callously hacked off and flung into the abyss. The derro shaman riddled the party with Lightning. After some tense moments, the tide turned the Defenders’ way, and the derro were eliminated. The shaman’s body yielded a wonderful find, a Rod of Cancellation.

Ramps led up and down to other ring-shaped galleries. Sadly, the exits from most of them were choked with rubble. The ramps themselves were in poor repair, leading to some near-falls. Cadrienne seemed distracted, and complained of hearing voices. She seemed certain that a lost library of marvelous books was calling to her. At the bottom of the ramps the Defenders discovered a long, narrow shaft with multi-colored light radiating up from below. Looking down blinded several people for nearly an hour each, as a Prismatic Sphere was plainly visible in the chamber at the bottom of the shaft.

After making their way up the ramps, the party found what appeared to be the only open passage off the ring. It led to a long hallway with side rooms. There they encountered a hungry rust monster, and several important items were nearly destroyed. The party rested. Cadrienne surprised Arcade by being very interested when he settled down to study, and asking if she could read over his shoulder. He knew that she could not read the magic script, but she insisted that looking at the symbols and the turning pages soothed her. Arcade also permitted Kestellan to study from the spellbooks, though not without grave misgivings.

On a large wall the Defenders discovered a tapestry that resembled a gaping, toothy maw. In front of it lay the hollow carapace and claws of a monster. Later, Arcade would identify the parts as those of an Umber Hulk, and use the shape when Polymorphed. Touching the tapestry nearly earned several party s nasty bites, but finally they managed to remove it from the wall.

Behind it, the Defenders discovered the doorway to a sealed room. Tomtom used his faerie ability, and created a working key. Within they found a lost reading room. The skeleton of a long-dead mage lay in the corner. The entire chamber was covered with formulas and magical writing. It appeared that the mage had been trying to escape by creating a free-standing gate using only his inscriptions. He had nearly succeeded before expiring. Many fascinating books were found scattered about, and Cadrienne cheered up immensely (see list below, attached).

Coming out of the chamber, the party was again ambushed by derro. The battle was over quickly, but a strange event occurred. When Kestellan launched a spell into the foe, nine Magic Missiles appeared. No one could explain how this could have happened, and it went un-noticed that Cadrienne had been standing close behind Kestellan as the combat raged. The effect was eventually chalked up to a mysterious magical Wild Surge induced by the Academy’s decaying protective charms.

While camping that evening, the party decided to open the Iron Bottle. With a fiery roar, an enraged efreet named Kadraskus emerged. He was not in a wish-granting mood, but did agree not to kill the Defenders on the spot, by way of thanks. Alix indicated that he wished to speak to the genie privately. Kadraskus agreed, and Alix then refused to tell the party what they had discussed. The efreet drew a flaming gate in mid-air, and departed. That night, Kestellan disappeared and could not be located.

Following a partially burnt map, the Defenders finally found the entrance to a hallway leading to the Room of Ceremony. The way was blocked by a permanent Wall of Force that was not dispellable. It fell before the Rod of Cancellation, and the party moved on.

The corridor, though itself inviolate and safe, appeared to curve through dimensions into the Elemental Plane of Fire. The City of Brass was visible in the distance. After a long walk, the hall ended abruptly in a pick-proof brass door.

Cadrienne produced a key that she said she found in the rubble, and the door opened with a clang. Stepping through the doorway, the Defenders found themselves in a huge stone room. Lining the walls were statues of the Academy Headmasters and Headmistresses, each with a sconce for a torch. Into three of the walls were built archways. Each archway contained an open gate to an elemental plane: Magma, Fire, and Smoke. Apparently the elemental denizens of these planes could not enter the room without the proper ceremonies being performed.

The fourth wall was covered with a large mirror, which the party had entered through. Seemingly without prompting, the mirror began to show scenes in rapid succession, a history of what had occurred in the Academy over the last several centuries, speeding too fast for any details to be picked out. The mirror then refocused, briefly acting as a true mirror once more. It then seemed to flex, and a night-scene appeared: the Flaming Manticore, home base of the Defenders. Light shone from the windows, and lit the snowdrifts piled around the walls. Some experimentation revealed that party members were able to exit and re-enter the Mirror Room without hindrance. The group decided to spend the night at home, and then return to investigate further in the morning.

While everyone was relaxing and having dinner, Cadrienne excused herself, saying she would be back shortly. She did not return for several minutes. Free from the stresses and oppressive atmosphere of the Academy, Arcade finally mentally assembled the pieces of the puzzle and realized that Cadrienne had, in all likelihood, been possessed by the spirit of a former master of Flamecraft. He rushed outside, only to find the sigil of Mirata du Chemith, second founder of the Academy, smoking in the snow. Cadrienne, and the Mirror Room entrance, were gone.

As the party panicked, a note arrived from Mirata, delivered by a Morphatian acolyte. It warned the Defenders not to interfere, and made it clear that she intended to resume her old position of power.

It was seven o’clock in the evening, and the Defenders had a national crisis and a kidnapped comrade on their hands.