The Gathering 1098

Saturday 29th August 1098

Got out of bed, had morning worship. The Harts were organising several things that were to happen about the same time.

Firstly, upon the instruction of s'Pika's spirit, they were to mount a mission to heal Elias's pattern. The details of this were unknown to me, and I would be unable to go in any case of two reasons. Firstly, Elias had insulted Dionysus, by claiming that he was not "worthy enough" to go. Dionysus had quite naturally taken offence at this and asked that no one of the Bacchus go on the mission, as we would then be claiming to be worthier that Dionysus. As it is patently untrue that any of us could excel over a son of Bacchus, none from our number went.

Secondly, the Harts had a ritual at noon, to create a number of Fae-killing weapons. This was to be performed by Rootvine, who would be using the late Lysandra's ritual group.

Finally, the mission to Scald would be taking place, at 12.30. The member of the Knights of Laen (two of them new) reported to me and asked if I was ready to go. I, lazing on a hay bale, said that it would be far too boring, and that they should go and say I sent them. Chuckling to myself I watched them leave. I would meet them at the Incantors guild later, if they were still motivated without being goading into it, and without support from their superior. The Harts organised to escort the ritual group down to the circle. I joined them, intending to support the ritual and then head off the Scald with the guild later. The ritual went quite smoothly as far as I could tell, with an initial hiccup as Rootvine (the self-proclaimed "Mushroom God"!?!) decided to change his style halfway through, after having been beaten up by an Ancestor spirit. Just as the ritual ended we were attacked by a horde of Fae (naturally enough). This was not altogether unexpected, so we were well prepared. After a short, but rough fight (during which I was downed from behind, again) we overcame them. In order to prevent further trouble the unconscious Fae were taken to sunny Syberia and left there. Unfortunately the battle had cost me half my spells, so I was heading off to Scald at less that full power.

Preparations for departure

Bidding my leave of the Bacchus I headed over to the Incantor's guild. Upon arrival I sat for a few minutes talking to Durith and watching the preparations for the mission (which seemed to be somewhat behind schedule). Finding out that the mission group would be forming up at the ritual circle, I wandered off. Just outside the guild I found my Knights of Laen also waiting. I told them that I would also be going (which they looked relieved at) and I led them over to the circle, where we spent a good hour and a half just sitting around.

During the wait several things of consequence happened. I saw the Elias rescue team set off, what appeared to be the whole Wolves faction arrived to support the mission, and several other small groups also joined us. Eventually Papewaio arrived, bearing the staff that I touched last night (The one that made me fall asleep, do pay attention!). He announced the plan to us. Those of us that had specifically volunteered for this mission (about 40-50 of us, me and my lads among them) would be heading to Scald and then actually through the rift to the plane of the unliving. "Great", I thought, "just what I was looking forward too".

The Plan

Once on the plane we would attempt to gain the ingredients to a potion that would allow us access to Maar's Mausoleum (It's getting better and better). Upon entering(?!?!) the Mausoleum Papewaio would step through some sort of curtain to the heart of the rift generating mechanism. Anyone else entering this would instantly die, their patterns shredded forever. Papewaio would be protected by the staff (apparently the staff of Schaedel), which he knew how to use having been possessed by him in the past. Papewaio would leave the staff there, and the group would withdraw, taking with them a book that we hoped to find in the mausoleum, the book that contain the knowledge on how to open the rift in the first place.

The ritual group would have a two-fold task. Firstly they would do a ritual to stabilise the area around the rift to make it safe for the assault group to go through. Secondly they would do a ritual to explode the staff that Papewaio would emplace within Maars mausoleum. The explosion would literally rip apart the portion of the plane of the unliving that corresponded to the area of Scald. All patterns within the explosion would be ripped torn to pieces, forever lost, and that area of the plane of unliving would cease to exist permanently. This would destroy the rift, and hopefully (with the theft of the book) prevent any attempt to re-open it.

The Wolves and other support troops would have to hold off the unliving from the ritual circle and the area around the rift, in order to distract the unliving from attacking the assault squad and leave an open avenue of escape, as well as defending the ritual group.

In summary then; myself and my companions would transport to Scald, enter the plane of the unliving, run about there making a nuisance of ourselves upon the plane of corruption itself, find some valuable artefacts. Break into Maars Mausoleum. Deal with whatever horrible guardians he had left there (and perhaps Maar himself), steal a book of dark magic, and get out of the plane before being ripped apart by a pattern destroying explosion. Easy.

The journey to Scald

We split into our three separate groups and marched towards the transport circle. The support group went through first, in order to secure the circle. Next went the ritual group, they would stabilise the area ready for us. Lastly we went through. There was a period of grey nothingness (the sure sigh of a sealed circle at the other end), followed by the momentary disorientation that accompanies circle travel. No sooner had we appeared then we were being urged onwards.

We broke into a trot, heading for the wavering curtain that loomed massively ahead of us, swirling in patterns of grey and black. As we approached the wavering ceased, and the swirling patterns merged into a fixed dark grey. I knew that the ritual had taken effect, and that it would now be safe to pass through. To our right, as we approached the rift, a squad of unliving noticed us and began pursuit. We speeded our pace, wanting to save our strength for the battles that lay ahead. One last glance behind as we passed through the rift showed the support forces being besieged by hordes of unliving.

Papewaio had warned us that healing and incantations would behave differently upon the plane of unliving and the area nearest the rift on Edreja. Healing would not work at all unless within the protective confines of the ritual circle. Incantor magic would not normally work, but the staff that Papewaio held served as a link to the planes where the Ancestors dwell, and I could still dimly sense Bacchus and our other Ancestors with me as long as I stayed close to it.

The first encounter

We headed off to the first location, a dour area in the flat grey wasteland that is the plane of unliving. Surrounded by a rough stone wall it bore a striking resemblance to a graveyard on the mortal planes, although no such thing could exist here. A few dead, grey trees poked from the lifeless soil here and there. We had to find six skulls here, before heading off to the next location. Before we could enter the graveyard we were attacked on two front by unliving. I called for a charge on the first group, hoping to scatter and destroy them before the second arrive. They were tougher than I expected however, with a combination of skeletons and zombies that caused me to keep changing weapons. The fight broke into two lines, one against each group of undead. Things were confused for a while, but eventually we defeated them.

We headed into the graveyard, some of us (myself included) taking up station at the single gap in the wall, to hold off any attacks. The rest of our party searched the area for the skulls. Some time passed, and then a large skeletal figure could be seen approaching in the distance. Several of our number ran out to face it, and I stayed at the gate. After a couple of minutes I could see that they were having problems, so I ran out to help. The creature seemed unaffected by normal weapons, and only the Ogre (Greg by name) had an enchanted mace. He and his companions were not faring well against the creature, so he handed the mace to me. Advancing towards the undead I parried almost all its blows with my trusty shield, its blows (when they landed) were powerful enough to strike a man to the ground, but my braced shield could withstand them. I laid into the creature with the mace, eventually striking a final blow that crushed in its rotting head.

Passing the mace back to Greg I returned to the graveyard. At this point they had succeeded in recovering all six skulls. This being the case we continued on to the next scenic location, a place much like the first where we had to find two bottles of potion. This was achieved without incident, and we continued onwards towards a squat, square building that lay ahead. This was the mausoleum.

Into the Mausoleum

Something was done with the skulls and potions that caused a minor explosion, blowing open the door to the mausoleum. Papewaio stepping through into the place and entered the curtain of darkness that was his destination. We could see him vaguely, kneeling beyond the curtain, holding the staff. Expecting him to withdraw shortly we ourselves entered, looking for the book. In the gloom we could see it, resting on a plinth. Unfortunately, blocking the way was a powerful unliving creature. As we cautiously approached him he called upon his dark powers and fatally wounded one of our comrades, from a distance! Shocked by this display of power we momentarily recoiled. Summoning up our courage we stormed once again towards the creature. Its blows caused fatal wounds (which on the plane of unlife none could heal) and it tossed around spells with abandon.

While we harassed it one brave soul ran past the creature and, grabbing up the book, left speedily for the rift. I picked up the body of a fatally wounded comrade and started to drag him towards the rift and safety. My pace was slow, but then someone came to help and we made better time. We exited from the rift and headed towards the ritual circle, which was under siege by a huge horde of unliving. At the side we were approaching from a skirmish had broken out, and we were able to pick our way through the fight and place our cargo safely within the circle. I called for someone to heal him or Sanctuary him. Eventually someone cast Sanctuary until a healer arrive. I then left him to help out defending the circle.

All around the circle we were surrounded by undead of all forms. Skeletal, zombie, ghouls and others I could not name. At first I stood at the very edge of the circle, fighting all that came within reach.

Going home

When I stepped back to a brief respite I noticed that the unliving didn't follow. It appeared that they could not enter the circle. From then on I just stood, getting in blows where possible but only attacking it missile, spell-using or polearm wielding unliving approached. My Knights joined me at this point, all in good health. The stand-off went on for sometime, while the ritual group assembled and the ritual was performed. Eventually the circle was sealed and all within were transported back to the Gathering.