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.
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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.
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