From 66bd5fb677eb61c62f1e81593907712e609d6f17 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: Alexander Date: Tue, 8 Jul 2025 10:28:56 -0400 Subject: [PATCH] fix some inaccuracies --- acl.cool/site/writings/umbral1.dj | 8 ++++---- 1 file changed, 4 insertions(+), 4 deletions(-) diff --git a/acl.cool/site/writings/umbral1.dj b/acl.cool/site/writings/umbral1.dj index 334a988..f776d61 100644 --- a/acl.cool/site/writings/umbral1.dj +++ b/acl.cool/site/writings/umbral1.dj @@ -20,16 +20,16 @@ Carmal Rumbar[^carmal] exchanges idle words as he looks about the courtyard. Beh As the party counts heads, they notice that one of their number is missing: the wizard, Louisa Whitlock[^louisa]. Sensing that what task lies before them will demand as much strength as they can muster, the present members hope that no ill-fortune has befallen her. Louisa will be around as soon as she can, no doubt, probably waylaid reassuring some hapless farmer that talking livestock is _not_ a phenomenon on-the-rise and that he needn't watch his pigs _too_ closely for indications of malcontent. -Before long, a guard emerges from from the house. It is clear from his uniform that he belongs to the service of Lord Silverhand. He swings the rightward door fully open, propping it against his heel, before conveying his message: the party's presence is requested inside. Taking up the rear, he sets a brisk pace down a long, arrow-straight hall hall, tailed closely by the echoes of a dozen boots against the slate-clad floor. On papered walls hang paintings of otherworldly scenes--- some of which Gottlob recognizes as belonging to other planes--- and scores of magical artifacts beyond a mean treasure hunter's wildest dreams. As they come to yet another set of doors, silver-inlaid slabs of oak reaching up to meet a joint in the vaulted ceiling above, a second guard, waiting in the corner, unstoppers the portal and ushers our heroes through. +Before long, a guard emerges from from the house. It is clear from his uniform that he belongs to the service of Lord Silverhand. He swings the rightward door fully open, propping it against his heel, before conveying his message: the party's presence is requested inside. Taking up the rear, he sets a brisk pace down a long, arrow-straight hall hall, tailed closely by the echoes of a dozen boots against the slate-clad floor. On papered walls hang paintings of otherworldly scenes--- some of which Gottlob recognizes as belonging to other planes--- and scores of magical artifacts beyond a mean treasure hunter's wildest dreams. They come to yet another set of doors, silver-inlaid slabs of oak reaching up to meet a joint in the vaulted ceiling above, which a second guard, waiting in the corner, heaves open, ushering our heroes through. -With trepidation, they glance around the war-chamber before them. Gottlob and Clementine, Waterdhavians of the group, recognize Laeral Silverhand, child of Mystra and Lord of Waterdeep, as she reposes on a shallow dais at the end of a long, low table in the center of the room. Her white robes and silver hair conspire in a stately cascade to convey the momentary impression of a calcite-hewn portrait gilded with a thousand-thousand pearls. Dozens of officials and functionaries fill rows of seats toward the periphery of the room, each behind their own small desk, and only as Lord Silverhand gestures to the new attendees do they stymie the frenzy of their conversations. Silverhand addresses the party, inviting them to approach her at the table. Doing so, they bow deeply, and she proceeds to explain the situation constituting the ultimate reason for their presence. +With trepidation, they glance around the war-chamber before them. Gottlob and Clementine, Waterdhavians of the group, recognize Laeral Silverhand, child of Mystra and Lord of Waterdeep, as she reposes on a shallow dais at the end of a long, low table in the center of the room. Her white robes and silver hair conspire in a stately cascade to convey the momentary impression of a calcite-hewn portrait gilded with a thousand-thousand pearls. A sparse smattering of representatives, sent by concerned parties, populate rows of seats toward the periphery of the room, each behind their own small desk, and only as Lord Silverhand gestures to the new attendees do they stymie the flurry of their conversations. Silverhand addresses the adventurers, inviting them to approach her at the table, and doing so, they bow deeply. She proceeds to explain the situation constituting the ultimate reason for their presence. {% This supposedly happened "within the last month". %} > I have received troubling reports of an otherworldly incursion in the Sword Coast's northern peak--- eyewitnesses verify what I am about to tell you. Less than a month ago, the region underwent a planar fissure, a tear in the fabric that separates one aspect of reality from the next. By great fortune, a powerful wizard was able to patch the hole, but was not quick enough to contain all that wished to cross over. My intelligence has determined that _nine_ beholders slipped into our realm and scatted themselves to the far reaches of Toril, where each wreaks something between havoc and irritation even as we speak. The Open Lord goes on to divulge details of the incursion, prompting Almuth--- summoned for his expertise on beholders--- to elucidate the species for his companions. He describes beholders' conventional behaviors and motivations, explaining their cunning paranoia, supreme arrogance, and their origin in the Far Realms, being descended from a deity that beholder-kind calls the "Great Mother". Producing an image, he goes on to detail the monsters' abilities: from their central eye, they project a cone that suppresses magic, and from the eye stalks that surround it, rays of devastating magical power. Though capable melee fighters, most beholders prefer to float just beyond the range of attackers' primitive physical weapons, raining curses and death on their playthings from above. -As Almuth finishes answering the questions that inevitably follow his lesson, Lord Silverhand makes the adventurers' task clear: they will vanquish the interlopers, or they will die in the attempt. As skepticism permeates the group, Laeral reveals that the party will have assistance from two consultants, who will be attending shortly. As if on queue, a lurid vortex of dust like fireflies fills the space beside her, and a raven-haired woman[^tasha], dressed to match, materializes with a rush of air and a crack like a gods's fumbled tankard tumbling from heaven to strike earth a mile off. +After Almuth finishes answering the questions that inevitably follow his lesson, Lord Silverhand makes the adventurers' task clear: they will vanquish the interlopers, or they will die in the attempt. As skepticism permeates the group, Laeral reveals that the party will have assistance from two consultants, who will be attending shortly. As if on queue, a lurid vortex of dust like fireflies fills the space beside her, and a raven-haired woman[^tasha], dressed to match, materializes with a rush of air and a crack like a gods's fumbled tankard tumbling from heaven to strike earth a mile off. She is introduced as "Tasha", but needs no introduction. It was she who sealed the planar fissure and tracked several of the nine beholders to their current locations. The demonologist and renowned planeswalker volunteers to serve as transportation for the party, shuttling them through dimensions to far flung corners of Toril unreachable by non-magical means. Alas, the witch's aid shall extend no further than this; other, more pressing issues demand the bulk of her attention elsewhere. @@ -41,7 +41,7 @@ Moving the proceedings along, Tasha produces eye-witness sketches of the nine so ![Sketches of the nine escaped beholders: "Candlehead", "Death Kiss", "Astral Conductor", "Deathrun", "Necromaniac", "The Omni-Viewer", "Cyclone", "The Witness", and "Monoeye".](/assets/umbral_sketches.jpg) -Our heroes must decide which is to be the object of their first foray into the business of beholder hunting. They ask for details and for recommendations; Tasha conveys what is known. Death Kiss evicted a sect of Red Wizards from their lair deep within a castle to the south of Waterdeep. The cultists discovered the fortress abandoned and, thinking it impregnable, were quick to settle in, but citadel walls are like lines in the sand to a beholder. Candlehead built _a mountain of cake_ in Neverwinter, preying on any traveler unfortunate or curious enough to wander through. Omni-Viewer, with bells like sirens' calls, lures peasants toward a looming Underdark portal from which none reappear. The Witness lurks in the Underdark itself, enacting its nefarious designs from chill and unglimpsed corners. +Our heroes must decide which is to be the object of their first foray into the business of beholder hunting. They ask for details and for recommendations; Tasha conveys what is known. Death Kiss laid waste to a group of explorers who thought to claim an abandoned castle, previously a Red Wizards' lair, to the south of Waterdeep. They discovered the fortress abandoned and, thinking it safe as it was rich with treasure and history, were quick to settle in, but citadel walls are like lines in the sand to a beholder. Candlehead built _a mountain of cake_ in Neverwinter, preying on any traveler unfortunate or curious enough to wander through. Omni-Viewer, with bells like sirens' calls, lures peasants toward a looming Underdark portal from which none reappear. The Witness lurks in the Underdark itself, enacting its nefarious designs from chill and unglimpsed corners. The party's decision is a difficult one--- agreeing on a choice, more difficult still--- but, after dozens of questions asked to their host and consultants, minutes of contention, and a ninefold palaver between Almuth and the goddess Eldath, a decision is reached: in the morning, they will set off underground, to take aim at the Witness in its lair. The Witness' relatively ordinary appearance and conventional behavior suggest a fight for which the party might effectively prepare, while the rest of the monsters defy preconception, wielding strange powers against which hostilities are best deferred. Or, so the reasoning goes.