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acl.cool/site/draft/umbral6.dj

@@ -45,22 +45,49 @@ The Lantanese see the situation differently, as the party explains. _Of course_
 
 The task demands much skillful parley, but Rwntincer eventually seems to comprehend the natives' position, and some convincing calculus from the mouth of Gottlob persuades him that his time and effort could be more efficiently spent somewhere he needn't bother defending. An agreement is reached: the party will fetch representatives of Lantan and bring them to the Sky Forge to negotiate in good faith for the reclamation of the complex and relocation of its operator. Naturally skeptical of the party's intentions {%creativity%}, and eager to dissuade them from any thoughts of double-crossing, the beholder makes a show of force--- a lance of pure heat, the intensity of its light washing out all other qualities, makes a searing triangle between the crystals our heroes noticed earlier. Moisture abandons every exposed bit of skin as the beholder's laser punches a hole in ceiling directly above their heads; superheated metal forms little rivers and faintly glowing pools that cling in stringent tension to the boundary of the wound. Flashy--- if pointless--- posturing complete, Rwntincer binds two of his glass golems to the party's will; they will act as tokens of legitimacy and good faith in the party's communications with the Lantanese, and our heroes set off toward the populated city.
 
+As our heroes descend toward the ground-level door and its guards they so boldly skirted, they are careful to observe the layout and inner working of each level they pass through. If negotiations go poorly, they may have to fight their way through. The first level down, pipes of melted glass that poke through the ceiling from the level above join with machinery that cools and molds the tacky liquid into unidentifiable shapes. Below that, an army of little golems joins the pieces together with torches and knives to form recognizably humanoid fragments. Lower still, machines assemble whole golems, more of the same little workers putting the finishing touches before bringing them to life. The lowest level is a whole suite of security--- it was a good move not to fight through _that_--- and beneath opens onto the plaza and the forrest floor beyond.
+
 {.thematic}
 ***
 
-Almuth being finally finished the task Tasha foisted upon him--- the lucky first, as Warren labors still--- the witch presses him again into her service, this time to play the messenger. His party needs assistance, and he will carry the news of Tasha's plan to them. Unwilling to waste time away from her work faffing about with boats and arcane amulets, Tasha expends a substantial share of her power to deposit Almuth directly onto the silver sands of Lantan's gouged coast--- she leaves him with a message, repeated three-fold.
+Back on the Prime Material plane, as Almuth completes the work that kept him from accompanying his party to Lantan--- a novel countermeasure against the Umbral Tyrant known as "Necromaniac"--- Tasha gives him another set of instructions. Painting in broad strokes a picture of the party's situation, she requests that he join them and bring them news of her newly-formulated plan. Unwilling to waste time on the boat-in-fog method, Tasha expends a substantial share of her power to deposit Almuth directly onto the silver sands of Lantan's gouged coast, leaving him with a message repeated several-fold.
 
-> Trust in me and, even more, trust in yourselves. No matter how bad things may seem to get in the coming hours, know they they will never reach the terrible conclusion they might suggest.
+> Trust in me and, even more, trust in yourselves. No matter how bad things may seem to get in the coming hours, it's just smoke an mirrors; know that they will never reach the terrible conclusion circumstances might suggest.
 
-The cleric wanders inland in pursuit of his companions; vegetation closes densely around him, obstructing his view; with such limited perception, his search becomes one more of luck than of careful observation. Almuth finds the party beneath the treetop city, where a serpentine automaton prepares to help them ascend. They exchange quick words that bring everyone up to date. The snake, like the rest of Lantan's machines, is a dense beast of steel and copper filament glimpsed between armor plates welded to a body of springs, rods, and gears. It carries them on its back, ascending with a screw-like motion over the protrusions of a twisted tube extending from the forest's floor to the heights of its canopy{%something colorful%}.
+Unsure where precisely on Lantan his party members lie, the cleric wanders inland with only a vague sense of direction; vegetation closes densely around him, obstructing his view. Like a miracle, Almuth finds his companions beneath the treetop city, where a serpentine automaton prepares to help them ascend. They are glad--- if surprised--- to see him, and a quick exchange of words brings everyone up to date. The snake, like the rest of Lantan's machines, is a dense beast of steel and copper filament glimpsed between armor plates welded at spots to a sinuous body of interlocking metal parts. It gestures for the party to mount its back and, when they do, ascends with a screw-like motion over the protrusions of a twisted tube that extends to the heights of the forest's canopy{%something colorful%}.
 
-Having achieved the raised city once again, Gottlob finds a disused crate and, placing it in the middle of the street among automatons and pedestrians that zip by far too close, hops onto his makeshift stage. He shouts a desperate plea for a translator in the Common tongue--- the party must be able to communicate; this language barrier is intolerable.
+Disembarking in the raised city once again, Gottlob finds a disused crate and, placing it in the middle of the street among automatons and pedestrians that zip by far too close, hops onto his makeshift stage. He shouts a desperate plea for a translator in the Common tongue--- they _must_ be able to communicate with the Lantanese; this language barrier is intolerable.
 
-A passerby merchant, a squarish gnome, hears the satyr's cry; he makes himself known to the party. In the relative tranquility of the sreetside, the trader introduces himself; his is dressed in familiar garb that seems out of place among his fellows', and where the digits of one hand should be, the tools of a tinkerer protrude from his palm. Many times a sailor to the Sword Coast, he is willing to listen to our heroes' plight, both surprised and impressed that the beholder should be willing to negotiate.
+A passerby, a squarish gnome, hears the satyr's cry; he makes himself known to the party. In the relative tranquility of the streetside, the trader introduces himself; his garb is familiar to the party, but seems out of place among that of his fellows, and where the digits of one hand should be, the tools of a tinkerer protrude from his palm. Many times a sailor to the Sword Coast, he is willing to listen to our heroes' plight and to convey what they say to anyone who needs to hear it. Gottlob asks about dimensional travel[^transit], and Carmal begins to explain the situation, but a sudden stampede of all manner of beasts interrupts his speech. The beats and patters of a thousand wings and tiny feat make a maelstrom of sound that startles the bard into silence as the wildlife of the forest canopy depart in synchronized frenzy. Clementine shouts to a squirrel as it passes overhead. Why is it fleeing? What does it fear? It pauses just long enough to squeak its reply.
+
+> Something in the ground. Don't know; can't explain. Very bad. Gotta run, run.
+
+As the rodent vanishes between layers of foliage, before Clementine has even a chance to explain its words to her party members, the suspended platform of the street lurches beneath her hooves (and Gottlob's, and Louisa's, and everyone else's feet). Wooden cracks and metallic pings from the distance tell a story of falling trees and snapping cables, but the surface underfoot remains stable, at least for now. In the confusion of people scrambling through the streets for any semblance of shelter this high above the ground, the trader just has time to shout "the volcano!" before the current of his fellows sweeps him away. The party looks out toward the Sky Forge and the shield volcano behind; a plume of dark steam and ash rises ominously from the mountain's summit.
+
+This _must_ be part of Tasha's plan, the one that Almuth spoke of. Surely... it can't be coincidence that she would warn the party not to fear disaster mere minutes before the volcano roared to life? Our heroes can only presume as much. Hopes of negotiation dashed for the time, they turn on their heels; down the ropes, and back to Rwntincer they go--- they'll stop this eruption, and if they're clever, they'll use it to their advantage too.
+
+Arriving at the Sky Forge amidst aftershocks that send new waves of birds squawking into the air with every tremor, the party and their golems find Rwntincer at the base of the tower, where the guards that were at the door seem to have abandoned their posts. Whatever animosity might exist between he and the Lantanese, this disaster cannot be allowed to destroy the Sky Forge and the city that surrounds it, the party posits and Rwntincer agrees. The beholder shares a useful observation: when the first quake struck, he investigated the crater from on high. From that lofty vantage, he noticed a strange artifact resting on a newly raised platform of basalt in a lake of lava--- perhaps this item is to blame for the volcano's sudden change in attitude? Pressed for time, the group quickly forms a strategy. The party will head into the volcano to remove or destroy the artifact while Rwntincer uses his laser to carve channels that should carry lava away from the city and his golems cut firebreaks on the mountain's slope. Each cohort sets off to fulfil its respective duty; mortal danger hardens the party's hearts and wills against lava's heat.
+
+At the graded peak of the mountain's shallow slopes, the party peers into a chasm of liquid fire. A boulder rests on a raised platform at its center, just as Rwntincer conveyed, a hundred-fifty feet away by sure reckoning. Rivulets of lava climb the sides of the pillar like ferrofluid to an electromagnet. There is our heroes' target--- now they just need to get to it. Louisa first flies Carmal across. As he steps onto an island of relative safety nestled in an ocean of molten rock, nothing moves at all; there are no traps here, at least. Pulling a dagger from his belt, the bard prods at the boulder, and is surprised to find the tip come away white hot. He waves the weapon about, making sure it's just _red_ hot before sheathing it again. Unsure whether the rock itself constitutes the party's target, or if it is merely shielding the artifact from them, he casts "detect magic" and, peering intently through the several feet of stone, determines that magic suffuses the entire boulder; nothing hides at its core. The skein of the weave flows and bubbles within the rock in a strange, lively way, and leaves Carmal with no doubt that there is something of the animate there.
+
+Doubtful that either he or Louisa can break the stone apart, what seems the surest way to prevent the catastrophe it promises, the pair return to their comrades at the crater's edge. Gottlob hops aboard this time, the hardest hitter of the group by a good margin. Deposited before the boulder, he searches for a weak point, a crack or imperfection in the stone by which he might cleave it with a single blow. Finding nothing so promising, the paladin targets a narrow divot with all his strength--- perhaps it will be enough, anyway--- but the party's luck is not quite so unbounded: the boulder goes soft at the touch of Gottlob's clockwork rapier, its blade plunging in to the hilt and threatening to burn his gloved hand as he barely tugs it free. No sign appears as to the effectiveness of the strike, but a group of lava elementals that spring from the floor between the satyr and his target attest to the artifact's opinion of its attacker.
+
+The flurry of blows that follow singe the satyr's beard and the fabric of his gambeson; flecks of lava that fly from the spirits as they punch and stab leave tiny blisters on every exposed patch of skin. Even as the roiling creature's fall, more rise to take their places, and the outlook seems ever more grim if Gottlob remains where he his, fighting hand-to-hand on the cramped platform. The situation calls for a change of position; hopping aboard Louisa's back once again, he suggests that they remain just out of reach, darting around the edge of the pillar's face and hurling ranged spells from the safety of clear air while the elementals flail helplessly on their little island. Clementine also gets in on the action, firing arrow after arrow into the body of the boulder, an onslaught from which its minions can offer no protection. The elementals, for their part, are cleverer than Gottlob assumed. As he and Louisa flit overconfidently about the limit of their range, they climb on top of one another with frightening speed and agility, each securing to its shoulders the feet of the next until a tower stands four spirts tall at the edge of their domain. With a careful eye for timing, the tower tips itself over the edge toward its master's harassers, and the highest of the group takes a wild swing as he plunges by. The attack finds its mark, and Gottlob reels for a moment as pain and shock threaten to dislodge him from his place on Louisa's back. The elementals plummet toward the volcano's open mouth below, but lava holds no ill effects fo their kind; their sacrifice is a minor one.
+
+Returning to the fray, Carmal transmutes himself into a Quetzalcoatlus, the only sure way he has to cover the huge distance between the artifact's platform and the crater's edge. He returns to human form upon reaching the pillar, and joins Gottlob at once in hacking at the boulder and what few elementals remain. The artifact, golem, spirit, or whatever it may be, is clearly feeling the effects of the party's furious efforts. Cracks extend like spiderwebs from impact points; chunks of outermost stone slough off in handfuls. At last, with a surge of strength, Carmal strikes at the boulder's center, and the whole assemblage comes undone, a neat cleavage of the party's foe in two. A smooth gemstone of cherry red, pulsing weakly with the light of Abeir's mantle, lies where the center used to be. Louisa recognizes the little rock as a type of earth elemental, a creature that strengthens itself by gathering material from its surroundings, building its body larger and larger with time and effort. In its current, weakened state, it is no threat to anyone, but it would be wise to deliver the creature to one who can contain it before it recovers--- Tasha should be willing to fill that role.
+
+With the eruption's apparent instigator subdued, the mountain's fury begins to subside. Magma pools drain into the earth; vapor disperses on gusts of hot wind. Returning to the Sky Forge, the party sees great cuts in the mountainside where Rwntincer's laser bored channels away from the city, those that carried lava still glowing with the residual heat. The city-folk will have seen the beholder's efforts to save their city from miles off. At the volcano's base, glass and copper golems stand in silent solidarity with one another, the kilometer of firebreak behind them a testament to their cooperation.
+
+{.thematic}
+***
+
+In the city streets, Glass golems mingle with metal automata; the party locates their merchant friend again. The walk back from the Sky Forge afforded ample time to consider what favorable version of the day's events Laeral might most readily believe, and they ask of him a simple favor: to write a document, an official looking letter on behalf of all Lantanese, in which he thanks the party and their Waterdhavian patron for eliminating the beholder threat. The adventurers will present Lord Silverhand this document as proof of the story that Rwntincer perished in a lava flow during their furious battle atop a shield volcano. {% say something about how they think all about that interaction on the way back %}
 
 [^mantle]: This is basically a lightly homebrewed [Nature's Mantle](https://dnd5e.wikidot.com/wondrous-items:natures-mantle).
 [^lantan]: Torilians believe tsunamis, smoke powder, and spellplague destroyed [this island cluster](https://forgottenrealms.fandom.com/wiki/Lantan#History) _circa_ 1385 DR. In fact, it was transported to [Abeir](https://forgottenrealms.fandom.com/wiki/Abeir).
 
 [^plague]: The [Spellplague](https://forgottenrealms.fandom.com/wiki/Spellplague) was the calamitous result of Mystra's assassination at the hands of Cyric and Shar.
 
-[^vibe]: These "Clockwork Rapiers" are magic items that do an extra `d8` of thunder damage against creatures and objects made of glass.
+[^vibe]: These "Clockwork Rapiers" are magic items that do an extra `d8` of thunder damage against creatures and objects made of glass.
+
+[^transit]: The Lantanese get to the Sword Coast by simply sailing east into the mists. _Why_ this works is unknown even to them. To get back, they sail west, where a wizard of their people will be waiting to let any natives back across the planar threshold.