Belladonna

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> > *"Chaos isn't a pit. Chaos is a ladder. Many who try to climb it fail and never get to try it again. The fall breaks them. And some are given a chance to climb. They refuse. They cling to the realm or the gods or love. Illusions. Only the ladder is real. The climb is all there is."* **~ Petyr Baelish | Game of Thrones ~ GRR Martin**
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## Description

### Physical

Standing five-foot-six and weighing 140 pounds, Belladonna is best described as mushroom-like, with dark red hair flowing down over mushroom-white skin and nicely framing void-black eyes. Her four-foot-long tail is often kept up and under a long cloak. Her horns are thick, twisted, and somewhat short – she is still able to wear hooded cloaks comfortably without the protrusions calling unnecessary attention to her lineage.

### Personality

Belladonna is a tempest in a teapot. Outwardly, she is no more polite or respectable than is necessary in any given situation. Inwardly, she is a seething entity of rage at the injustices of society. She keeps her cool mainly out of spite, knowing that – more often than not – her benign appearance is her best defense. She often accentuates this persona with nature-based hats (often styled like mushrooms and flowers) when in her more public-facing life.

## History/Background

From a young age, Belladonna reveled in her infernal heritage, embracing her dark essence and her perceived destiny as an agent of chaos. Growing up on the fringes of society, Belladonna witnessed the stifling order imposed by the gods: their structured systems only served to suffocate individuality and suppress the populace. The realization that the gods had removed any sort of free will from society fueled her rebellion and ignited an insatiable hunger to dismantle the shackles of their control. However, Belladonna is also a pragmatist and realizes that the gods will continue to rule the afterlife. (Take that for what it’s worth . . .)

With an affinity for deception and manipulation, Belladonna began honing her skills as a rogue, particularly stealth and agility. In the underbelly of society Belladonna discovered a clandestine organization known as The Ephemeral Apostates. Belladonna eagerly joined their ranks with the aim of becoming a harbinger of destruction, reveling in the havoc and panic she and her comrades unleashed upon their enemies. Belladonna seeks to bring about a world untamed by laws and restrictions and yearns to topple empires, plunge cities into anarchy, and dismantle the very fabric of society - - and let the people rise from the ruins to build a new order for themselves. To her, chaos is the truest expression of freedom and the path to ultimate liberation.

## Hilan: Calamity

### Session One

When last we left our intrepid adventurers, the pitch black sky was scorched by red lightning in the cosmos above for nearly twelve hours. Scores of dead - both mortals and gods - had been brought down dead in a seemingly endless battle with what could only be described as eldritch, otherworldly creatures. A half-eldritch knight slammed into a Druid; an artificer pulled up a wall of stone and was now wrecked against it; a Firbolg neatly stepped aside an arrow aimed directly for her throat only to be stabbed in the back by a rogue.

An army advanced: their strange armor made of thick, woven linen, their helms lacking eyeslits, and carrying enhanced firearms and wicked-bladed knives. Displacer beasts . . . and other things . . . stalked toward a group of individuals defending a certain section of the battlefield . . .

Madu (half-Orc fighter) smashed the beast with her greataxe; it ran away whimpering.

Crispin (high Elf bard) deftly weaved away from his attackers so that none could touch him. Trying to understand the battlefield, he came to the conclusion that the creatures were from Beyond and were totally alien. The name “Doastic Anxiety” came to mind, but as to what that might actually mean . . . He cast Banishment on a nearby eldritch knight, who seemed to shrug it off until its robe tore open, revealing a parasitic entity that briefly scrambled before being sucked into a vortex and banished to a plane of fire - the brightness shining briefly before being abruptly extinguished. He turned to Belladonna and, giving her finger guns, said “take it away, Bel” and gave her some bardic inspiration.

Belladonna (feral Tiefling trickster rogue) had squared off against a Night Hag. She imagined the hag thought her short statue and small frame made her an easy target. Others had thought the same in the past . . . Belladonna ran her hand over her rapier the way a pyromancer would set his blade afire. Bel’s blade glowed faintly with poison as she drove it home.

The Hag shrieked and Belladonna could tell she was holding on to whatever semblance of life she retained by a thread. She skittered away, spider-like, and began clawing at herself in agony.

Leana (Tortle fighter) looked on as something gargantuan came up out of a fissure in the ground - an aberration. She action-surged, hitting it with 6 attacks and sending it chittering away, likely mortally wounded.

Above them, a dragon exhaled a brine breath attack. Around them, the dead began to stir bad twitch and rise as Mind Flayers in service to the Elder Brain Dragon found new hosts - including Crispin, who knew he had minutes to do . . . something.

Quelle (Firbolg cleric) escaped the rogue that had stabbed her and ruched over to Crispin, who was obviously in distress. She quickly cast Greater Restoration on him and then she herself turned invisible.

A pale white woman walked out onto the battlefield, lifting up the hag and a nearby cart with telekinesis before pointing a thin-yet-deadly sword in the general direction of the defenders. Time slowed; Belladonna barely held on to her thoughts as she tried to look still as possible. The woman walked out from behind the dragon and spoke:

“Aren’t you tired of failing again and again?”

The world changed.

Belladonna blinked. She was in a wagon, chained to people she recognized but didn’t quite know. Her armor was gone and replaced with rough common clothes - the Tortle, Orc, High Elf, and Firbolg seemed to be in the same situation. There were two others Belladonna did not recognize in the least: there was a tall-ish human man and a - genasi? elf? chained on her right. Looking closer, Belladonna saw she was what appeared to be a Tiefling like herself, but not quite the same - - she was, in fact, an Aquan Tiefling.

From all appearances, they were being taken to a settlement in the Crownlands: the Dwarven city of Darsam’oradrukafaren - a city said to be made of diamond.

“I’d say we’re a long way from home,” Madu began before a guard attempted to cut her off brusquely: “No talking!”

Belladonna tried to focus her thoughts. The memory of the battle didn’t fade, but other memories now came rushing back . . .

There had been an uprising - well, not really an uprising, more like an incident - at a playhouse frequented by the Greek pantheon and Apollo in particular. Some Genasi had raided the theater looking for members of The Ephemeral Apostates, there had been a ruckus of sorts, and some of the gods’ balconies vandalized. “As they should have been,” Belladonna thought to herself.

She took another look at the man.  His appearance was rugged and weathered and even here in the cart varied himself with a stoic, almost noble presence. He had a long, flowing mane of dark brown hair, a strong jawline, and a few visible scared gave evidence to battle long past - as well as more recent. Finally she placed a name with him: Leighton Burgess.

Leighton was a former master-at-arms, a known supporter of mortal rights, and a visible member of the Ephemeral Apostates. Belladonna seemed to recall hearing that one of Vecna’s liches had caused a disturbance at an orphanage. Leighton may not have started the fight, but he certainly struck the last blow.

Gates opened, revealing the exquisitely boutique city. Where Belladonna thought they should turn right, they turned left toward the center of town. They were being carried along Pariah’s Way - the walled walk of shame many prisoners took on their way to . . . Well, there would be no mad breaks now . . .

“Don’t like this,” Leana said in Thieves ‘ Cant.

“What do we do about it?” Belladonna replied.

Leana started beating a foot against the floor of the wagon. A code of sorts. Belladonna heard the crowd begin to murmur. Some wondered what such a group of folks had done to deserve their ride. Others were members of the Guild who recognized Leana’s message.

Ignoring the guard’s admonitions to keep silent, they began talking - trying to piece together what had happened.

Crispin had been taken for pushing back against the Genasi; Madu and Leana had been hired for the evening as security; Quelle and Belladonna had been caught up in the sweep under “generally suspicious activity” - - whatever that might mean. Leighton was already a known “troublemaker” among the gods, and as for their other companion on this bumpy ride . . .

Well, she was struggling. Her name was Inkeri and she was very confused about what was going on. Belladonna could understand the words she was saying, but any actual meaning was lost on her. It wasn’t that Inkeri was speaking gibberish, it was just that Belladonna lacked the right frame of reference to know what was being said . . .

She looked around at the wagon. They were gained to each other as well as to the cart itself. Their personal belongings were likely locked in the chest the guard was sitting on - the chest protected by a Seal of Mordenkainen. Belladonna caught Madu’s eye and they seemed to have an understanding. She kept as much tension on the chain as possible as Madu timed her push with the bumps and rattles in the road - the bar broke free.

“The only difference between a chain gang and a gang with chains is attitude,” Belladonna said in Thieves’ Cant.

Meanwhile, Madu managed to pass a shawl from somewhere down to Inkeri.

And then they arrived a three main city green. there was a large wooden stage, an outdoor pen of sorts, and a low building off to one side. Six chairs had been set up on the stage, and Belladonna got a good look a the carvings on their backs:

* A white right gauntlet (Torm)

A pair of eyes surrounded by seven stars (Selene)

A six-pointed snowflake (Auril)

A quarter moon and starburst (Corellon)

An upright, flaming sword (Tempus)

An ice-blue greatsword (Frey)

They were unloaded off the cart and herded into the pen. It seemed to Belladonna that the wooden palisade had strong magic placed on it keeping anyone inside it from doing anything . . . unruly. But magic was often a two-way street, and in this case it probably meant that no one could use magic against them, either.

She listened at the fence. One gnome was speaking to another. “Master Shieldbreaker, we cannot find him, and so there has been a switch on the council. It is a delicate matter with her . . .”

A few moments later, Belladonna watched as Corellon’s chair was switched for one bearing the black raven - Hades’ sigil. Belladonna used the change in scenery to fill the others in on who they might expect to see on state. Crispin wondered if it would be the gods themselves, their representatives, or a partial avatar . . .

It was a beautiful, hot summer day, and Inkeri was not doing well. She seemed upset with the dirt and sand and when Quelle tried to offer some small amount of water or something Inkeri said it would not be big enough to help.

Quelle tried to convince a guard to giver her some water, but that was fruitless. Anyone who survived the gods’ judgment would be provided bread and water.

Then there was fanfare and the gods themselves showed up. Belladonna mentally took note of each one present.

Master Shieldbreaker was instructed to bring the prisoners out for judgment one at a time, and to being with Leighton Burgess. Mounting the scaffold and standing near a headman’s block, Burgess was officially charged with deificide and many other charges. The phrase “throwing the book at him” came to mind . . .

Torm made eye contact with each of them inside the pen. Belladonna stared right back, practicing for the day she hoped would come sooner rather than later. But today would not be that day.

And then Burgess was wallowed to speak on his own behalf. Belladonna groaned when he began to speak. The man had no sense of self-preservation. Belladonna may have considered herself an agent of chaos, but one also needed to have a sense of self-preservation. Otherwise, what was the point? If  an attack failed to harm an enemy, what was the point? And yet, there Leighton spoke.

He challenged the gods’ assertion that mortals held free will and that there would come a day when one would have hope for a live, a second chance, a time when humanity would not be born into servitude of the gods.

Inwardly, Belladonna cheered. But she also knew the time for that speech was when one had the upper hand. Outwardly, she tried looking ashamed of him, as if his every word went against every fiber of her being.

And then a voice spoke that didn’t come from the platform. The speaker was an elegant and regal figure, exuding sophistication and grace and carrying herself with poise and dignity. Impeccably styled silver hair accented expressive eyes and sharp features. She spoke directly to Burgess:

“So, you’re making them do this, then? Well. As  First Evoker of the Weave, Right Hand of Mystra, Marquess of the Vale, I can offer you a choice: me, or one of them? You’re still going with Hades after, but . . .”

Burgess stared back defiantly. The Marquess sighed and gestured at Tempus. He rose, reached behind him, and with a shadowy greatsword neatly bifurcated Burgess from shoulder to hip.

And then the Marquess seemed to berate the assembled deities, if such a thing were possible, pointing out each of them by name and making it seem as if hauling them here were an affront to common sense, decency, and justice. She convinced the council to let them go.

Well, almost all of them. She did not know Inkeri.

Quelle decided it would be a good idea to argue with the gods. Again, Belladonna admired her determination, but arguing with the gods without a weapon or a plan wasn’t ideal. All she would do is anger them.

Belladonna took the opportunity to literally distance herself from Quelle and made her way to the gate and wait for someone to let her out.

Inkeri tried speaking for herself, but her words caused looks of anger and confusion to cross the faces of the council. Belladonna wished they would all just shut up. It would be much easier to save Inkeri if they all weren’t in prison - or worse.

But Quelle either wouldn’t or couldn’t let things go and just when Belladonna was certain the council would once again change their minds, the tardy Corellon showed up with his long flowing hair, piercing blue eyes, and athletic frame commanding attention. He calmed the situation to the point that Belladonna felt out of danger, but then her heart leaped again when Torm cast Speak with Dead on Burgess.

The spell wasn’t true resurrection, it simply allowed the caster to ask a series of questions to the departed soul - and the soul could not lie. Belladonna was certain something would be given away that would doom them.

the questioning revealed that Inkeri was smuggled in to Burgess by order of the Apostates, that there were rumors of a package to be delivered to the Heart, and that the package was key to stopping what is to come.

Inkeri had been arrested simply for being in the presence of Burgess, and her answers indicated she was little more than a child - at least that’s what the Council perceived.

Belladonna stood a little more at ease, and now that she looked closer she realized that Inkeri was blind. And come to think of it, hadn’t she seen her in battle? Was she the one who cast time stop?

Someone vouched for Inkeri’s future honest actions and then they were all finally released and their property returned. They made their way to the Marquess’ residence  and were led into the ballroom, where the Marquess sank into a chair and sighed.

“Well, you couldn’t have buggered that more if you tried.”

Crispin, too, changed demeanor and he gently took Inkeri’s hand. “Please, tell my why it was so important you find me?

Inkeri spoke slowly, clearly, and deliberately.

“I’m here to stop The Reaping, which we have failed to do thirty-seven times by my count.” When last we left our intrepid adventurers, the pitch black sky was scorched by red lightning in the cosmos above for nearly twelve hours. Scores of dead - both mortals and gods - had been brought down dead in a seemingly endless battle with what could only be described as eldritch, otherworldly creatures. A half-eldritch knight slammed into a Druid; an artificer pulled up a wall of stone and was now wrecked against it; a Firbolg neatly stepped aside an arrow aimed directly for her throat only to be stabbed in the back by a rogue.

An army advanced: their strange armor made of thick, woven linen, their helms lacking eyeslits, and carrying enhanced firearms and wicked-bladed knives. Displacer beasts . . . and other things . . . stalked toward a group of individuals defending a certain section of the battlefield . . .

Madu (half-Orc fighter) smashed the beast with her greataxe; it ran away whimpering.

Crispin (high Elf bard) deftly weaved away from his attackers so that none could touch him. Trying to understand the battlefield, he came to the conclusion that the creatures were from Beyond and were totally alien. The name “Doastic Anxiety” came to mind, but as to what that might actually mean . . . He cast Banishment on a nearby eldritch knight, who seemed to shrug it off until its robe tore open, revealing a parasitic entity that briefly scrambled before being sucked into a vortex and banished to a plane of fire - the brightness shining briefly before being abruptly extinguished. He turned to Belladonna and, giving her finger guns, said “take it away, Bel” and gave her some bardic inspiration.

Belladonna (feral Tiefling trickster rogue) had squared off against a Night Hag. She imagined the hag thought her short statue and small frame made her an easy target. Others had thought the same in the past . . . Belladonna ran her hand over her rapier the way a pyromancer would set his blade afire. Bel’s blade glowed faintly with poison as she drove it home.

The Hag shrieked and Belladonna could tell she was holding on to whatever semblance of life she retained by a thread. She skittered away, spider-like, and began clawing at herself in agony.

Leana (Tortle fighter) looked on as something gargantuan came up out of a fissure in the ground - an aberration. She action-surged, hitting it with 6 attacks and sending it chittering away, likely mortally wounded.

Above them, a dragon exhaled a brine breath attack. Around them, the dead began to stir bad twitch and rise as Mind Flayers in service to the Elder Brain Dragon found new hosts - including Crispin, who knew he had minutes to do . . . something.

Quelle (Firbolg cleric) escaped the rogue that had stabbed her and ruched over to Crispin, who was obviously in distress. She quickly cast Greater Restoration on him and then she herself turned invisible.

A pale white woman walked out onto the battlefield, lifting up the hag and a nearby cart with telekinesis before pointing a thin-yet-deadly sword in the general direction of the defenders. Time slowed; Belladonna barely held on to her thoughts as she tried to look still as possible. The woman walked out from behind the dragon and spoke:

“Aren’t you tired of failing again and again?”

The world changed.

Belladonna blinked. She was in a wagon, chained to people she recognized but didn’t quite know. Her armor was gone and replaced with rough common clothes - the Tortle, Orc, High Elf, and Firbolg seemed to be in the same situation. There were two others Belladonna did not recognize in the least: there was a tall-ish human man and a - genasi? elf? chained on her right. Looking closer, Belladonna saw she was what appeared to be a Tiefling like herself, but not quite the same - - she was, in fact, an Aquan Tiefling.

From all appearances, they were being taken to a settlement in the Crownlands: the Dwarven city of Darsam’oradrukafaren - a city said to be made of diamond.

“I’d say we’re a long way from home,” Madu began before a guard attempted to cut her off brusquely: “No talking!”

Belladonna tried to focus her thoughts. The memory of the battle didn’t fade, but other memories now came rushing back . . .

There had been an uprising - well, not really an uprising, more like an incident - at a playhouse frequented by the Greek pantheon and Apollo in particular. Some Genasi had raided the theater looking for members of The Ephemeral Apostates, there had been a ruckus of sorts, and some of the gods’ balconies vandalized. “As they should have been,” Belladonna thought to herself.

She took another look at the man.  His appearance was rugged and weathered and even here in the cart varied himself with a stoic, almost noble presence. He had a long, flowing mane of dark brown hair, a strong jawline, and a few visible scared gave evidence to battle long past - as well as more recent. Finally she placed a name with him: Leighton Burgess.

Leighton was a former master-at-arms, a known supporter of mortal rights, and a visible member of the Ephemeral Apostates. Belladonna seemed to recall hearing that one of Vecna’s liches had caused a disturbance at an orphanage. Leighton may not have started the fight, but he certainly struck the last blow.

Gates opened, revealing the exquisitely boutique city. Where Belladonna thought they should turn right, they turned left toward the center of town. They were being carried along Pariah’s Way - the walled walk of shame many prisoners took on their way to . . . Well, there would be no mad breaks now . . .

“Don’t like this,” Leana said in Thieves ‘ Cant.

“What do we do about it?” Belladonna replied.

Leana started beating a foot against the floor of the wagon. A code of sorts. Belladonna heard the crowd begin to murmur. Some wondered what such a group of folks had done to deserve their ride. Others were members of the Guild who recognized Leana’s message.

Ignoring the guard’s admonitions to keep silent, they began talking - trying to piece together what had happened.

Crispin had been taken for pushing back against the Genasi; Madu and Leana had been hired for the evening as security; Quelle and Belladonna had been caught up in the sweep under “generally suspicious activity” - - whatever that might mean. Leighton was already a known “troublemaker” among the gods, and as for their other companion on this bumpy ride . . .

Well, she was struggling. Her name was Inkeri and she was very confused about what was going on. Belladonna could understand the words she was saying, but any actual meaning was lost on her. It wasn’t that Inkeri was speaking gibberish, it was just that Belladonna lacked the right frame of reference to know what was being said . . .

She looked around at the wagon. They were gained to each other as well as to the cart itself. Their personal belongings were likely locked in the chest the guard was sitting on - the chest protected by a Seal of Mordenkainen. Belladonna caught Madu’s eye and they seemed to have an understanding. She kept as much tension on the chain as possible as Madu timed her push with the bumps and rattles in the road - the bar broke free.

“The only difference between a chain gang and a gang with chains is attitude,” Belladonna said in Thieves’ Cant.

Meanwhile, Madu managed to pass a shawl from somewhere down to Inkeri.

And then they arrived a three main city green. there was a large wooden stage, an outdoor pen of sorts, and a low building off to one side. Six chairs had been set up on the stage, and Belladonna got a good look a the carvings on their backs:

* A white right gauntlet (Torm)
* A pair of eyes surrounded by seven stars (Selene)
* A six-pointed snowflake (Auril)
* A quarter moon and starburst (Corellon)
* An upright, flaming sword (Tempus)
* An ice-blue greatsword (Frey)

They were unloaded off the cart and herded into the pen. It seemed to Belladonna that the wooden palisade had strong magic placed on it keeping anyone inside it from doing anything . . . unruly. But magic was often a two-way street, and in this case it probably meant that no one could use magic against them, either.

She listened at the fence. One gnome was speaking to another. “Master Shieldbreaker, we cannot find him, and so there has been a switch on the council. It is a delicate matter with her . . .”

A few moments later, Belladonna watched as Corellon’s chair was switched for one bearing the black raven - Hades’ sigil. Belladonna used the change in scenery to fill the others in on who they might expect to see on state. Crispin wondered if it would be the gods themselves, their representatives, or a partial avatar . . .

It was a beautiful, hot summer day, and Inkeri was not doing well. She seemed upset with the dirt and sand and when Quelle tried to offer some small amount of water or something Inkeri said it would not be big enough to help.

Quelle tried to convince a guard to giver her some water, but that was fruitless. Anyone who survived the gods’ judgment would be provided bread and water.

Then there was fanfare and the gods themselves showed up. Belladonna mentally took note of each one present.

Master Shieldbreaker was instructed to bring the prisoners out for judgment one at a time, and to being with Leighton Burgess. Mounting the scaffold and standing near a headman’s block, Burgess was officially charged with deificide and many other charges. The phrase “throwing the book at him” came to mind . . .

Torm made eye contact with each of them inside the pen. Belladonna stared right back, practicing for the day she hoped would come sooner rather than later. But today would not be that day.

And then Burgess was wallowed to speak on his own behalf. Belladonna groaned when he began to speak. The man had no sense of self-preservation. Belladonna may have considered herself an agent of chaos, but one also needed to have a sense of self-preservation. Otherwise, what was the point? If  an attack failed to harm an enemy, what was the point? And yet, there Leighton spoke.

He challenged the gods’ assertion that mortals held free will and that there would come a day when one would have hope for a live, a second chance, a time when humanity would not be born into servitude of the gods.

Inwardly, Belladonna cheered. But she also knew the time for that speech was when one had the upper hand. Outwardly, she tried looking ashamed of him, as if his every word went against every fiber of her being.

And then a voice spoke that didn’t come from the platform. The speaker was an elegant and regal figure, exuding sophistication and grace and carrying herself with poise and dignity. Impeccably styled silver hair accented expressive eyes and sharp features. She spoke directly to Burgess:

“So, you’re making them do this, then? Well. As  First Evoker of the Weave, Right Hand of Mystra, Marquess of the Vale, I can offer you a choice: me, or one of them? You’re still going with Hades after, but . . .”

Burgess stared back defiantly. The Marquess sighed and gestured at Tempus. He rose, reached behind him, and with a shadowy greatsword neatly bifurcated Burgess from shoulder to hip.

And then the Marquess seemed to berate the assembled deities, if such a thing were possible, pointing out each of them by name and making it seem as if hauling them here were an affront to common sense, decency, and justice. She convinced the council to let them go.

Well, almost all of them. She did not know Inkeri.

Quelle decided it would be a good idea to argue with the gods. Again, Belladonna admired her determination, but arguing with the gods without a weapon or a plan wasn’t ideal. All she would do is anger them.

Belladonna took the opportunity to literally distance herself from Quelle and made her way to the gate and wait for someone to let her out.

Inkeri tried speaking for herself, but her words caused looks of anger and confusion to cross the faces of the council. Belladonna wished they would all just shut up. It would be much easier to save Inkeri if they all weren’t in prison - or worse.

But Quelle either wouldn’t or couldn’t let things go and just when Belladonna was certain the council would once again change their minds, the tardy Corellon showed up with his long flowing hair, piercing blue eyes, and athletic frame commanding attention. He calmed the situation to the point that Belladonna felt out of danger, but then her heart leaped again when Torm cast Speak with Dead on Burgess.

The spell wasn’t true resurrection, it simply allowed the caster to ask a series of questions to the departed soul - and the soul could not lie. Belladonna was certain something would be given away that would doom them.

the questioning revealed that Inkeri was smuggled in to Burgess by order of the Apostates, that there were rumors of a package to be delivered to the Heart, and that the package was key to stopping what is to come.

Inkeri had been arrested simply for being in the presence of Burgess, and her answers indicated she was little more than a child - at least that’s what the Council perceived.

Belladonna stood a little more at ease, and now that she looked closer she realized that Inkeri was blind. And come to think of it, hadn’t she seen her in battle? Was she the one who cast time stop?

Someone vouched for Inkeri’s future honest actions and then they were all finally released and their property returned. They made their way to the Marquess’ residence  and were led into the ballroom, where the Marquess sank into a chair and sighed.

“Well, you couldn’t have buggered that more if you tried.”

Crispin, too, changed demeanor and he gently took Inkeri’s hand. “Please, tell my why it was so important you find me?

Inkeri spoke slowly, clearly, and deliberately.

“I’m here to stop The Reaping, which we have failed to do thirty-seven times by my count.”

### Session Two

Of course, that comment set off a rather lengthy conversation, with the Marquess calling for food and drinks so that anyone observing the house would not think anything of their longer-than-expected stay.

Inkeri related how the place might have changed - sometimes it was at a theatre, or in damp underground tunnels, or during a ball of some kind - but the end result stayed the same: an apocalyptic battle resulting in their deaths. Inkeri explained that she was able to shift time (which, in one reality, Belladonna had described as a temporal shift) at eh exact moment the Pale Woman did . . . whatever it was she did . . . essentially moving our souls back into our bodies at some previous point in time. “Before the devil knows you’re dead, indeeed,” Belladonna thought.

Madu asked if there were any balls of note coming up soon, and while the Marquess recalled receiving an invitation some sort time ago, she couldn’t quite remember the woman hosting it and just couldn’t put her hands on it immediately and so she began shuffling among the papers on her desk.

While she looked, Quelle tried to make small talk with Inkeri, which turned to all of them sharing their favorite foods and someone ended up with Inkeri and Leana deciding that dolphin meatballs would probably taste somewhat fishy.

And then the invitation had been found. It bore a rose-sealed invitation they all recognized as the seal of House Amoureux. Madu and Belladonna also know that they had a house “in the country” and were considered lesser nobility, with the Head of House Amoureux, Eitenne Henri Amoureux, recently rising in rank from Baron to Vicomte. they were a well-to-do family of assumed demigods, though which god they claimed varied depending on the story one heard, but the most common was Timora, goddess of fun times, good fortune, and trickery. That may have also explained the somewhat-more-than-rumors that scandalous parties were said to be held at their home. All things considered, and from what Madu and Belladonna had heard, members of House Amoureux had hard-to-place vibes, but they seemed to be mostly good.

Vicomte Amoureux had a half-elf, half-Drow son named Laurent who favored the elf side of his heritage. There was also an older daughter who was mostly unseen. There was no wife in the picture.

With news of the party, Crispin determined to both keep up appearances with the gods and secure legitimate invitations for them all. Begging leave, Crispin left the party with the Marquess to determine their next steps, planning to meet up at a small clothing shop a little later on.

Belladonna suggested examine the tunnels and scouting an escape route from the Amoureux Manor should one be necessary. The others agreed, and the Marquess smiled as she said “If you would be so kind as to allow me to escort you to the wine cellar?”

Belladonna had been through the tunnels underneath this house several times on Apostate business, but allowed the Marquess to lead on - which she did, taking a more circuitous route than might have been expected. They visited rooms off the beaten path and lights were left on in empty rooms as they made their way to the wine cellar. Canny subterfuge was the name of the game, and the  Marquess played it skillfully.

They entered the cellar and passed racks of everyday and fine wines until they came to a door sealed with a Seal of Mordenkainen hidden in the woodwork. Inside were the exquisite wines one would expect of Marquess’ station and taste. Another waving of hands and the tasting table sank and swung away to reveal steps carved into the very rock itself.

Belladonna was back on more familiar ground (literally) and Leana seemed to show signs of recognition as they reached the bottom of the steps. She started to lead the way when Quelle asked if she should get out her torch. Belladonna had forgotten that perhaps not everyone had darkvision, though on the way down she noticed Inkeri handling herself quite well. She and Madu had simultaneously moved to offer assistance, and both had perceived Inkeri possessed blindsight. She might be a half-second slower as she moved, but her movements were sure and certain.

there was a brief hangup as Quelle tried to get Belladonna to take the torch and Belladonna tried to get Quelle to understand that she didn’t need it. Eventually, Belladonna said “I can see in the dark and I mostly know where I’m going. So you can walk behind me with the torch for everyone that needs it, and then if something happens ahead of us I have both hands free.”

They travelled through the abandoned mines with relative ease; nothing seemed out of the ordinary: the only sound other than themselves was the typical mine sounds of settling wooden structures and distant dripping water. They passed several broken mine carts and some parts of the passage got narrow. Belladonna was thankful she wasn’t claustrophobic.

She and Madu and Leana picked up on the fact that, about every forty feet or so, was a sundial with the “shadow” painting to 3:00 - - this was the sign they were following to their destination. They also got the feeling they were being watched, but none of them could tell if someone was actually watching them or if it was just normal underground feelings.

There were also other signs and sigils made of what seemed to be the very rock and earth and mineral veins - as if they’d been put there by nature. Almost without trying to, Belladonna recognized them as matching those on the ground around the Pale Woman . .  .

“Eldritch aberrations . . .” Madu said under her breath while Belladonna harvested some inky nightcaps and Quelle scraped some Devil’s Weed in test tubes. Belladonna made a note to herself to try not to get frustrated with Quelle. She seemed to have a good head on her shoulders; it was just that her speaking cadence made it seem like she was long getting to the point.

Moving on, the mine floor, which had been gradually yet steadily banking up and to the right, flattened out and they entered the sewers proper before entered more earthen tunnels. it was here the oppressive feelings left them as well. They passed houseless denizens bearing no religious symbol and, if Belladonna’s spatial awareness was correct, passed near the Cleric’s College.

The tunnel took on a rather strange smell. They were reminded that this was probably one of the plague tunnels. Some time in the past Vecna and Cyric and Wotan had a dispute that spilled over into the mortal populace. A abyssal plague swept though the city, killing many, many mortals. Those that survived and were of a curious nature found it odd that none of the gods involved in the argument were abyssal in nature.

The came out of the tunnel in a mausoleum. The name “Barakor” was carved into the stone. The large, sweeping necropolis of countless stones and statuary went on into the distance. A road of sorts ran through as well. The could see House Amoureux in the distance. By road it would likely be an hour; cutting through the city of the dead would be much faster, as well (as Leana pointed out) as acting as a maze that might potentially confuse any would-be pursuers. this was a place of rest and reflection; a place very much for mortals.

With lines of sight established, Belladonna suggested they make their way to the dress shop for outfitting. Leana tried to give Inkeri some armor, but it was obvious Inkeri struggled with it. However, it did provide some greater modesty that the ragged tunic she’d been afforded prior to the wagon ride.

To avoid undue notice, they stopped to pay respects to the dead. An honestly so, too. Just because they didn’t know an individual didn’t mean they couldn’t remember them.

Making their way by road toward the gate, they noticed a pair of ravens fly away.

“Hmm,” Quelle said aloud and then went to talk to a nearby willow tree. Where some folks could talk to animals, it seemed Quelle could talk to plants. Being one-sided from Bel’s perspective, the conversation was odd and convoluted. Eventually Quelle came around and said the birds were the eyes of the Raven Queen and they at the very least had avoided making a new enemy. What was more pressing was that the Willow indicated someone was buried alive about thirty feet away, and the tree helpfully pushed up a root to indicate the poor person’s location.

Madu wanted to leave them there, saying that if they were buried alive they had probably done something to deserve it, but Belladonna wanted to save them if they were mortal, pointing out that there were five of them and so if it came to it they could likely put things back they way they were if they made a mistake.

Using tools from their packs (and Inkeri using some magic) they unearthed a large stone sarcophagus. They could heard banging and scratching and then a voice asking to be let out. They called back that they were working on it, and Quelle tried to calm the person inside while Leana and Belladonna worked on picking the locks. Then Belladonna got out her crowbar, jammed it into the crack of the lid, and then stood on it while Madu and Leana got the lid off. A mist poured out that tried to mess with their heads.

Then there was more lockpicking as the elf himself was freed and Belladonna cut the last ropes away.

“You smell like the sea,” Inkeri observed.

The elf wore strange clothes and asked to be directed to the Tavern of Second Chances - a place none of them knew about. He insisted he had to get back home or his mother would notice, and when Quelle and Belladonna pressed for who imprisoned him (Quelle out of curiosity and Belladonna to offer revenge) he said it was his girlfriend (now ex-girlfriend) Aelene (Lene for short). He really had to be getting home or his mother would notice and then he’d really hear about it. Belladonna suggested she might not find out, but he replied that his mother was somewhat psychic, what with being Dread Lord of Paridon and all. And even if she was distracted, his Auntie T would certainly know something was up.

“I can tell by the looks on your faces that nothing I’ve said has made any sense,” he said. “Let me start again. I am a pirate, and my name is Barrin Lorhalien.”

### Session Three

“Nice to meet you, Baron,” Leana said, “but perhaps it will be better for us to talk about all this . . . somewhere else?”

“Speaking of, does anyone know where we were supposed to meet back up with Crispin?” Belladonna asked.

“I would guess the Marquess,” Quelle suggested.

“Okay, so now to find our way back,” Belladonna said half to herself and half to the others as she surveyed their surroundings beyond the necropolis and the nearby manor. “We’ve got the three main avenues: Kings’ Road, Man’s Road, Gods’ Road . . . Kings’ Road it is.”

They made their way back to the city proper with Belladonna in the lead and Leana bringing up the rear. Behind them they could her the sound of wheels and hooves and for a moment they thought they were being followed before the wagon turned off toward the manor. The markings on the side indicated it may have been part of the entertainment.

At the gates was an older man, today’s gatekeeper. Belladonna recognized his face as being familiar and recalled that he was a cleric and a healer, though the exact god he served escaped her at that moment. If anyone had asked, the best she could have answered was “the broken man”

Belladonna reached up her hand for her wrist to be inspected and she was waved through. Only after she had passed by him did she wonder what he would find in Inkeri and Baron.

Thinking Baron’s name jogged her memory further, and she recalled the man’s name was Brother Arton.

She looked back to see him holding Baron’s wrist. The look on the older man’s face was a mix of emotions: puzzled but not confused with a generous helping of curiosity and only a slight bit of concern.

“Huh” was all that Brother Arton had to say about Baron before waving him through.

Then Quelle came through and she picked up on things faster than Belladonna had and tried to make an excuse for Inkeri as Arton reached for her wrist.

Again, his response was even and measured.

“You are indeed a long way from home, though I suspect the citadel might be of use to you, if you feel the need to ask those there for help.”

Then Leana came through and she had a much better relationship with the gatekeeper and the two of them began a brief and friendly raconteur and brother Arton accused Leana and even Belladonna of playing pranks on him.

Entering the city, they made their way back to the Marquess’ and came in by the front door, where they were subsequently ushered into one of the parlors where Crispin was already waiting for them.

The servant was kindly let go of their current duties so they could talk in (mostly) private.

Madu also excused herself, saying she would have to catch up with them later, and both Belladonna and Quelle promised to keep her updated about their plans before they filled Crispin in on what had transpired. Inkeri also filled in some observations, noting that Baron smelled like the ocean.

Baron again told the same story he’d told the others in the cemetery. Crispin began deferring to him as nobility, but Baron cut him off. “No, Baron is my name, not my title. Though technically I am a prince? I mean, my mother is Dread Lord of Paridon. I was named for my uncle Fuego who went by Barrin (he spelled it out as well) for a time - he’s god of law and justice and architecture nowadays. And my Uncle Rylan is god of death and my Autie T is goddess of workers and stories. She’s the one that had the idea for the tavern I’m trying to get back to, and they’ve all got his book, you see. It’s kinda long and it’s quite important to their history together and I just wanted to make my own contributions . . .

From somewhere he pulled out a sheaf of bound paper and began flipping through it. Belladonna saw illustrations of a smiling Dragonborn couple with the woman holding a Dragonborn egg in a brazier over hot coals. There was an elvish woman with flaming red hair and stars in her eyes next to a quite handsome elvish man. There were two older men - one of them Belladonna recognized as a Night Elf - surrounded by several smiling children. There was a watercolor of a purple rabbit in front of a forge?

The names spoken by Baron were unfamiliar - and Paridon was a myth, wasn’t it? - but they still carried the weight of divine power.

Baron seemed almost just as concerned that he was out of a vital medication his Uncle Rylan had developed for him. “He spent a lot of time getting it right, and is always telling me ‘if you can’t make your own then store-bought is fine’” but unless you can read Thieves Cant . . . “ Baron’s voice trailed off.

“I’ve got you covered there,” said Belladona “and I suspect that between Quelle and myself, we’ll be able to recreate this for you.”

Quelle was excited to work with Belladonna, and the two quickly found that in terms of their interests they were opposite sides of the same coin. Together, who knows what they might come up with?

There was a brief moment of hilarity as Belladonna assumed Quelle (who told her to call her KK) could also read Thieves Cant and asked her option about a particular step. turns out KK had just been following along, so Bel began again, writing out the recipe in Common with Baron’s permission. If this was right, it was based on the properties outnumbered in the neurotoxin of a species of subterranean spiders?

There were still several hours until dark when they decided they needed to go out shopping.

Their first stop was with the Modist Honeysuckle, who was delighted to take on so many customers and even more exited when they told her to use her ‘cabbage’ to help create their inspirations.

They headed to the Marketplace of Waukeen and found - off the beaten path - an oddities shop called Twisted Tails Emporium.

Balla and Quelle and Lena went inside; Crispin and Inkeri went to a shop a little down the street.

Twisted Tails aesthetic was Dark Naturalism meeting Dark Academia. “Just say no to the Hand of Glory,” Belladonna thought to herself, “unless . . .”

They reached a counter with a small brass bell and a card reading “ring for service.” Belladonna reached up and wrang the bell and the shopkeeper, one Timir by name - appeared. Belladonna gave over her list and then KK asked if he had any bees.

He stated he had a hive of them about “so high” gesturing 6 feet in the air, but said it could be “cut down to size”. KK expressed interest in the bees and Timir opened a door not-so-subtly disguised as shelves and let them past A LOT of alcohol before arriving at the bees, which had made their hive in the corpse of a man.

“Looks like that honey’s to die form,” Belladonna quipped, and Timir laughed loudly.

“For such a good pun, I’ll be sure to give you a discount today,” he said. “I haven’t heard a good pun in quite some time.”

After discussing the needs of the bees, KK decided to take three bees and a queen along with a hand. They would need fresh meet often and it would probably be best to find a new corpse sooner rather than later.

Belladonna then asked if he had anything to make her less squishable, and bartered her first tear of True Grief in exchange for a certain pendant that would require a drop of blood every day. Before making the exchange, Belladonna did a quick insight check and determined that the fire genasi was not purposefully attempting to lie or omit facts; he just really wanted to make a sale.

They left with his business card - a feather which he said would call to him if cast into a fire.

They met up again with Crispin and Inkeri; Crispin had a look of wonder and concern on his face, and Belladonna wondered what could possibly have happened in a simple clothes shop.

[Out of Character, Inkeri had paid for her purchases with a large pearl with, though common where she was from, was incredibly rare and valuable in the city. Crispin had words with the shopkeep and then talked gently with Inkeri about keeping herself safe from robbers. In so doing, he discovered that Inkeri carried a string of shells with her, some large and some small, each with a spell engraved in Braille on it. Other spells lined various parts of her body via scarification. She was a wizard, and said that she left “payments” in each place they stopped.]

Then it was back to the Marquess’ for dinner and Crispin’s news, which was mostly the same as the others had derived earlier. What was curious was that no one knew the reason for the ball, or why a masquerade would be held outside of masquerade season. The whole affair was very curious, indeed.

Belladonna reminded them that Inkeri said bad things happened at most balls in her memories/visions, to which Inkeri described them like an angler fish - a kind of water-dwelling creature that lured prey in with a dangling light before chomping on it. She demonstrated with KK.

They rested and then it was time for the ball - the parade of carriages turned a ten minute drive into an hour or more. Quelle and Leana used motivational word and inspiring leader (respectively) to boost their hp just in case.

Inkeri said something in her langauge and the air turned cold and condensation formed a bead of magic which she then handed to Crispin. Belladonna wondered what it would do.

They arrived at the main house discussing what to do with their weapons; Lena decided to hide some in her shell and Belladonna thought she could make do with her dagger, though she would miss the comfort of her rapier.

The interior was set in gorgeous baroque style; the servants in domino and jet as if in mourning. The Marquess arrived and then left after about an hour. She had been seen to be there, and that’s what was needed. Father and Son Amoureux mingled, the elder dressed in black-on-black goldwork of polished black and the younger in a style modern audiences would recognize at late 17th century or House of the Dragon stylings.

A woman descended: white of hair and in features similar to the men. She was dressed as a Valkyrie in blackened steel armor with red lace mimicking wounds across her face, arms, and dress. Manon Delphine Amoureux descended the stairs and Belladonna recognized her: she had fought with them at the Apocalypse and had been thrown over a cart by that other woman . . .

She was received with pleasure by her father, but it was clear the party was not in her honor.

Now the fashionably late began to arrive and the party spilled out across the manor. Their invitations were good for the main ballroom whereas others may have been restricted to other minor rooms.

More time passed and then the doors burst open. Two women in full armor sauntered in, elves sweaty and bloody and obviously mother and daughter. Sister Caitriona Dagella and General Azura Dagella of the Army of Torm. they had been fighting at “the Front” and earned a reputation. Thought what any of that had to do with their strange attendance . . .

Cait grabbed a drink off a tray and walked straight towards the men of House Amoureux.

“I didn’t know you were on your way back.”

“Yes, well we weren’t exactly sending a raven.”

“Things are complicated?”

“There’s something that needs looking at.”

### **Session Four**

The marquess was not here, and Baron seemed confused. He’d gone for drinks and came back holding two of them; after looking around for a bit in consternation, he set one on a nearby statue and wandered off. People were branching off and braking into small dance groups, but as Belladonna stated making her way through the crowd - always on the lookout for something easy to steal - she noticed something was off. While they werent acting like a hive mind, most of the dancers were a half-beat behind the music. It was unnerving and annoying and it wasn’t the only thing wrong, but Bel couldn’t put a finger on it.

the Amoureaux family stayed near each other, with the elder Amoureaux trying to steer the interruption back into a party, his social graces seems just on the verge of working before the discordant dancing continued with a distinct change in the air.

The battle-weary General and Night Sister used tactical bawdiness to play to the crowd, still in their dirty, gore-covered armor. Bel thought she heard the Night Sister begin to ask what the purpose of their being here was, only to be cut off by a raised hand from the General.

Bel continued to have difficulty moving through the crowd and was somewhat glad to suddenly find Quelle in front of her and asking “would you like this dance?”

They made it work despite their foot height difference, and looking up, Bel thought she saw a look of confusion in KK’s eyes. And then she spoke to Bel, not in the soft, hesitant voice that Bel had become used to, but in a swift and decisive and urgent tone: “Something’s off. Look at their clothes.”

Bel looked closer and noticed the details in each of the dancer’s clothes bore strikingly similarities, almost as if they’d had the same designer. Still, there was something more niggling at Bel’s brain that she couldn’t quite place. There were no guards to speak of, though there were two doormen. There were no windows or mirrors but there were three exits: two sets of large double doors and a set of stairs leading the the second floor.

Over her head, Quelle had pulled out a small silver tinderbox and was apparently looking at the reflection of the room in it.

Across the dance floor, Crispin and Leana and Madu could’ve seen making their way towards the nobility; she and KK kept dancing and casing the floor - until in her head Bel got a message from Crispin:

Inkeri is already upstairs. Follow her and keep her safe and be careful. Love you.

Bel was momentarily thrown off by the “love you” but the tone indicated this was something Crispin was used to saying and was probably just a linguistic reflex.

“We’ve got her. Don’t worry” she sent back in reply.

Bel and Quelle whispered and quickly ruled out going back out toward the front door and up the relatively unguarded stairway there. They would not have the time. That left the stairway here, with the three Amoureaux standing at the bottom and greeting their guests.

“I could always say, “sir, may I go up your stairs?’” KK offered, but Bel shook her head.

“Distract them and I’ll follow Inkeri,” Belladonna said.

Dancing their way over to the bottom of the stairs, Quelle joined the others, and Bel used Crispin’s introduction of her to follow Inkeri’s footsteps up the outside of the banister, weaving rough the rails, and up to the softly-carpeted second floor. Inkeri left little damp footprints that Bel followed, realizing that the two of them were remarkably similar in size.

Down the hallway on the left a door stood ajar, through which more hallway could be seen. Off this hallway bedroom stood covered in dust and the walls were covered with paintings making up a hall of lineage equally covered in dust. Inkeri may be small, but she was not stealthy, and as Bel followed her footsteps she realized Inkeri was likely picking up small trinkets on the way.

As Bel approached the fourth bedroom, she heard a click from inside and going in she saw Inkeri digging though a chest of drawers and humming softly to herself, every so often shoving things into a bag Bel knew she hadn’t brought with her.

Then she stood upright and, without turning around said, “Oh. You’re here already. Hello, Belladonna.”

“Find anything good?”

“Oh yes. I found a book I could almost read.”

Bel thought about the raised bumps on the shells that made up Inkeri’s spellbook. “Really?”

“Mm-hmm” and Inkeri held out a thick book - clearly a journal of some type and as Bel took it from her hands she thought she saw a word she almost recognized before the shadows shifted and it was gone.

Inside the book were vellum pages with lots of writing in a variety of languages. Some of the more emphatic pages had layer of ink - Bel thought this was what Inkeri had felt. She continued to flip though the book, an uncomfortable feeling growing in her stomach. She only knew two languages fluently: common and infernal, and every so often a word caught her eye that unnerved her.

She had just found a page written mostly in infernal, a page describing something called the Convergence of Days and describing a kind of high ritual called The Ritual of Subjugation. She looked up at Inkeri.

“I can’t read all of this, but I’ve got this spell” she began before the look on Inkeri’s face stopped her. “We don’t have time, do we?” she aksed.

Inkeri shook her head. “I thought we had more time. Things have happened more quickly this time. Bad things are happening downstairs.”

“Time to go?”

“Time to go.”

Downstairs, Crispin had been talking to the Amoureaux, who seemed rather unhappy to be the hosts of an unknown guest of honor, but one did what the gods required, did they not?

Then the doors opened and the guest of honor herself, her clothes bearing similar details to the dancers and the musicians and recognized by Crispin and Madu and Quelle and Leana as the woman they had fought against before finding themselves in the cart . . .

The crowd parted for her, and as they did so, the awful math of the situation fell upon them: there were no servants in this room, and every dancer and musician seemed to bear similar markings. It was the three Amoureaux and the General and the Night Sister plus Baron and the four Apostates (or Apostate-adjacent) against . . . everyone.

“Now is this any way to treat a guest of honor?”

As she spoke, the ten against her reacted: some prepared to fight, some looked ready to run, and Baron had a look of “oh shit” and a careful observer might put two and two together and realize this was the ex that buried him alive.

“I’m glad you’re all showed up this time,” she continued, “though it seems we are missing a few. Congratulations - you made it!” She laughed as the guests closed off the exits and, forming a circle, advanced.

Quelle stepped forward and curtsied and asked for an introduction, saying the woman had an advantage in knowing them while they did not know her at all.

The woman continued to laugh and, rather than answering the question posed, offered a gift on their first true meeting. She usually gave this gift tomorrow, but felt this time they’d earned it early.

She threw down a large, heavy sack the size of a body and a half that landed with the thump like a wet melon. It was vile and dirty and sickening to look at.

“Let’s cut right to the heart of the situation. Here is a gift from me and my lord and master as the games begin.”

Quelle was hesitant to open the bag, thinking it may contain the Marquess. She opened it and saw instead two bodies. One belonged to a woman who had been 5’7” with strawberry-blonde hair and pointed ears. The other was small and toddler like.

“It was so upsetting when she decided not to take my invitation and instead stay at home with her children. Mothers will be mothers, I suppose, but some choices would make things so much easier - right, Crispin?”

She dropped Crispin’s wife’s wedding ring on the ground as the General pulled her steel and glared death at the Woman.

Crispin tried to maintain a steady voice tried mostly unsuccessfully to avoid the bag on the floor as he spoke “where. is. my. daughter?”

“Oh, so that’s your question. Interesting. Where were you when they died? Oh, that’s right. Playing revolutionary. Why don’t we just ask her what she thought of that.”

“Do it.” Crispin dared her as a title flitted through his mind: The Heart of Vecna. That meant they were surrounded by a sea of teeth and blood and spawn of Vecna.

He tried to cast Silence around the Woman, resulting in a series of spells and counterspells until the Woman overcame Crispin’s attempts and cast Danse Macabre.

Quelle tried to Banish her, and nearly succeeded. The Woman glared at her.

Leana had worked a dagger or two out of her shell and, throwing one towards Madu, waded into the fray as Crispin released a kind of bright energy behind him. The Amoureaux glared at him and backed away, the elder calling for folks to head up the stairs, Manon preparing to fight, and the younger going up to Crispin and, laying a hand on his shoulder growled as he pulled a greatsword.

“Turn when I say.”

Baron cast mirror image and suddenly there were three of them; the real one with Madu headed up the stairs while the others stayed down below.

Crispin cast Mischief to turn the floor into tout terrain as they all felt the beat of the somatic elements of a ritual click into place. Pounding a fist into a palm he gave Bardic Inspiration to Leana as he shouted “make it hurt!”

The Woman’s visage changed and she began to look more and more like a High Priestess. The ground erupted with black ichorous tentacles that reached out for Crispin, who neatly sidestepped them.

Quelle summoned her spiritual weapon: scales and a club and starting to smack the antagonists closest to her.

Leana tapped into her fighting spirit and swung mightily at the cultists, too.

Night Sister attacked the bodyguards closest to the Heart of Vecna while the General cut a one-woman path towards her.

Madu got Baron to the top of the stairs and then slid back down to join the fight, landing next to one of Baron’s mirror images and taking out a cultist.

From the top of the stairs, Baron tried to cast fire bolt.

This was the scene Belladonna and Inkeri came upon after running from the dusty bedroom. On the way, Bel had asked what kind of energy would hurt them.

“We never did find out, but I’d think anything would work right now.”

Bel came to a halt at the top of the stairs and, quickly surveying the scene, cast a chromatic orb at the Woman, dealing 19 points of acid damage to her tattooed eye. She gave an inhuman shriek as her attention was diverted upwards.

Bel waved at her.

Crispin tried to end the ritual, aided by Inkeri reversing time - at the cost of dealing damage to the rest of the party as well as to nearby cultists.

The Woman now struck both palms on the ground and a web of fire raced towards those that hurt her.

Belladonna’s natural resistance to fire and uncanny dodge kept her out of harm this time. Madu and Quelle each aided in deflecting and offering resistance to those that needed it.

And now a skeletal hand reach out out and grabbed Crispin by the throat, inflicting him with Chill of the Grave.

The ritual distrusted, the cultists now famed out in chaos. One of them, a fighter, stabbed the General deep in her stomach while two others attacked Laurent and Crispin.

Quelle summoned spirit guardians looking like plague doctors and tried to fight off the cultist attacking the General. He fell under their attack, but his sword left behind a gaping wound.

Leana hacked at cultists while Madu also tried to protect the General.

Baron unsuccessfully cast Witchbolt and, seeing cultists begin to come up the stairs, Bel cast Cause Fear. Some of them turned around.

Crispin tried to end things quickly. Bel wasn’t sure what he did, but the Woman responded with a shriek that attacked them all with psychic damage. Crispin started to go down but was propped up by Laurent as the Woman walked over the the General and ended her life with Power Word Kill.

Though wounded severely, here eyes glared at Crispin with anger mixed with sadistic joy as she deposited the body of Crispin’s mother on top of  those of her daughter-in-law and grandson.

Upstairs, the Viscount used a gem to open a gate and ferry the retreating party into gross and vile tunnels filled with coffins and crates of food - all surrounded by Apostate symbols.

Bel was the last one through, making sure everyone passed her by before turning herself.

Crispin did not look good. Laurent was speaking. He could help Crispin as he had helped his father. But he would need to act now. Hardly waiting for any kind of an answer, Laurent bared fangs and bent over Crispin and did some kind of blood magic that Belladonna couldn’t quite make out.

And then Crispin was back, but he was changed. Particularly his eyes, which were now red.

“Welcome to the Family, Cassian Amoureaux”

### **Episode Five**

Inkeri held the book in her hands and held it out to Belladonna.

“I suppose we need to read this?”

Inkeri nodded as Belladona began looking though the book. It was large and the writing looked complication. “This may take some time,” Belladonna began, when  Caitríona Dagella began speaking.

“I’m not sure how much time we have. Let me explain. I and my mother were at The Front, that part of the landscape where the gods play at the edge of civilization. And then . . . something happened. There was an edge, an end, a real, literal front to all this - a limit. Scouts were sent out and confirmed this was The End. And the fighting stopped. Instead, we sent out patrols along this . . . border. Day and Night - that’s what we started calling these new periods of light and dark - they came and went systematically and at even keel.

And then came a small thing of cataclysmic significance: something cracked. A small yet finite crack about 2 handsbreadth in size hung in the air and leaking a black ichor that seemed to glow as it turned to an angry vermillion, growing in size to about my height and an orc’s fist in diameter. The cartographers went out and examined it; one of them touched it and something reached through from the other side and pulled them into the dark with long, sharp talons.

Reality crumpled like ash as they started flooding out: squirming masses of limbs and tentacles and armored madness.

Our mother (she gestured at Crispin-now-Cassian) arrived with spellcasters. I think Corellon knows of the Apostates; at any rate it was his followers that came to help, pushing back at the thing trying to shape this world.

The crack is now over forty miles long and growing. I need to report on it . . . and my nightmares.”

“Have I been in these nightmares?” Cassian asked.

“Sometimes I see you”

“And now I can’t even see myself,” Cassian pointed out dryly. His humor was taken literally by Quelle and Baron, who started looking for a solution before being cut of kindly yet firmly by Cassian, who explained he was simply trying to figure out his new and rather conflicting emotions.

“A fixed point,” Inker said, and they all tuned to look at her. “We’ve made a fixed point. Whatever happens now, even if we find a way to return to a previous point, this will always happen, and it will always happen this way.”

By this point Belladonna had finished examining the book. It looked to be well over a thousand pages of rather interesting vellum, and the writing ourself was a cacophony of madness. She had the spell Comprehend Languages, but it would be useless here. This writing was meant for a different reality, it seemed.

But there was some Abyssal, and she was able to make out that they had not only interrupted the Ritual of Subjugation, but that it was such a complex rite that it would take a long time to attempt again.

Caitríona nodded. “I saw that in my nightmares as well. Usually it ended with the deaths of most of the Amoureaux. Or worse . . .”

So. There was that.

Quelle suggested scrying for Cassian’s daughter. She saw a dark room lit by green candles which cast interesting shadows on the stone floor. She was decidedly not at The Front. A dripping sound like water drew the attention to a large obsidian tub with dragon-claw feet. Looking up, a severed hand dripped blood into the tub, where she saw . . .

“Not so fast,” came a male voice, and Quelle’s censor was grabbed and a searing pain filled her right eye. She shut it quickly, but the damage was done. The entire sclera was red, but it could have been worse. After all, Quelle was still alive.

As she relayed her information, Baron dug out an eyepatch from his bag. “I am a pirate, after all. We use them to keep our eyesight when going from the bright above decks to the dark below decks.”

Something seemed to click with Baron as Quelle talked, and when she finished he started talking about things his Uncle Tiago had said about time and gods and how he thought he knew when he was - where they all were - but that he couldn’t say too much or he might change time and disappear.

Cassian pieced more of the pieces together, and talking it out with the others, they concluded that Vecna - who was now Cassian’s grand sire, come to find out - wanted to become a god. However, gods couldn’t simply be created, because you couldn’t create matter from nothing.

Baron demonstrated this principle by using a bean from Leana to cast a small magic spell, and they watched as it withered.

What Vecna wanted to do was unmake reality by using the introduction of chaos from somewhere else to become a god.

Belladonna had questions for Baron, who had before mentioned this several of his family had attained godhood, and how they had achieved it if he was from their future. Baron explained that it had started with his Uncle Rylan who had taken the divine spark out of a god named Cyric (the name felt powerful but had no meaning to any of the rest). Others had become hero deities or - as in the case of his Uncle Garrett - taken the spark of a creator deity that allowed him to create divine sparks for others to become gods. What other gods were killed or whose spark Garrett held (who also chose to be a purple bunny, or so Belladonna gathered) Baron refused to say. Again, he thought giving away too much information might alter things to the point he wouldn’t be born.

Caitríona suggested going to the Apostate’s meeting so she wouldn’t have to explain things multiple times, and off they went expeditiously.

Settling in to some chairs, Cassian used the opportunity to cast Identify on the book Belladonna now held, and using a pearl from Baron and an owl feather from Belladonna, the glint and glow of the spell shimmered and fell on the vile book and Cassian knew they now possessed the Book of Vile Darkness - one of three artifacts associated directly with Vecna.

Meanwhile Caitríona addressed the Apostates and asked them to go to war, to swing things in a new direction - though that direction was to preserve the status quo - along with the gods they opposed.

Something happened to Quelle. Perhaps she had been thinking as Baron spoke and answered Belladonna’s questions. But now she spoke to Cassian in particular but to everyone as a whole as well.

“Ummmm…guys…..there…was…someone…in…the….tub. It. was. a. woman I. was. looking. for. your. daughter. A woman. They had. to make a. wisdom save. A child. wouldn’t know.”

Cassian look at Baron.

“The Heart of Vecna is a sorcerer. Yes? And so is your ex-girlfriend? What was her name?

“Len”

“And was Len short for something?”

“Aelene”

“And she had a birthmark? Star shaped and right about here?” Cassian made a motion pointing behind a shoulder.

Baron nodded.

“But how . . . ?”

“The Heart of Vecna is Aelene Dagalla. My daughter.”

Inkeri had been thinking.

“Vecna wants to use the chaos coming into the world for himself. What if we were to dam or up  or funnel it so that he couldn’t use it?”

“How would we do that?”

“Who could use it?”

“It’s a complicated ritual called Reality Break.” She poured out the contents of her bag and made a sand table. “I would be here at the center (she placed a small pearl). Four other lodestones would be here . . .  and here . . . and here . . . and here.”

“Lodestones?” Cassian asked.

“Four living lodestones . . .”

“I volunteer”

“You are no longer living,” Inkeri answered Cassian as Belladonna immediately said “I’m in.”

“I cannot ask you to do this,”

Belladonna had come to a realization. Vecna wanted to use chaos to become a god and she wanted to use chaos to bring the gods down a notch or two and not only did this make them enemies, but it made them actual opposites . . .

“Who’s asking? I’m volunteering. You’re giving me the chance to give an eternal middle finger to Vecna and a bunch of gods and think I wouldn’t jump at that?”

“Exactly,” Leana agreed.

“Eternal?”

“The wall would last as long as possible . . .”

“But it would give the people a chance at free will.”

“If anything in my past has taught me,” Quelle said in her slow, deliberate speech. “Is that this world needs to change. I would use my eternity to give a future to those who are to come. I want Baron to have a future with his parents. I will do it. I have no one, I want others to have a chance to have what I didn’t. Let this magic cow help all the magic cows to come.”

Madu nodded in agreement and it was settled: Madu and Leana and Quelle and Belladonna wold become living lodestones for the ritual. Cassian and Caitríona would watch the Wall they created. Cassian, for his part, would be able to provide constant vigilance.

And then Cassian raised his lute and the world changed. The purpose of music changed from simple mindless entertainment to something with meaning, with purpose, with emotional intent. Something that would stir the hearts and minds and wills of the people into something more . . .

[OOC: with a combined roll of 100, this was a world-changing event]

The party had two options: to go and try to complete the ritual as soon as possible, or fight their way through Vecna’s ranks, taking out as many as possible before attempting the ritual.

Belladonna favored the fight, but Cassian said they needed to end this as quickly as possible.

Baron opened a gate and the party stepped through into a familiar scene: the battle at the end of the world, only a few minutes before. They stood on a moth peak and watched the armies of the dead advancing. Inkeri began setting up the ritual as Baron offered to take things for safekeeping.

Quelle asked him to take care of her bees.

Belladonna gave him her flowered hat.

And then they stepped into place. Belladonna stood next to Inkeri, the Tieflings sticking together as Inkeri set down a shell and Belladonna took off her cloak. Madu passed in front of them to take up a position on the other side, and Belladonna said to her “I told you in the tunnels I’d have your back.”

They bumped fists as Madu stood back up from placing her weapon on the ground.

Leana stood on the end next to Madu and put down a small piece of a very old Tortle shell.

Quelle stood next to Belladonna and put down her poison kit.

Belladonna was about to ask “would you have this dance” when the ritual started talking effect. Power coursed through them, and Belladonna felt her constitution and her strength being tested - her best and worst abilities, so it would seem.

The chaos flowing through them now wove itself into a wall stretching out and up and the storm that had been gathering now broke into a spring rain as above them the sky grew dark, resolving into an expanse of stars and a crescent moon.

### **Epilogue**

And so Quelle and Belladonna and Inkeri and Madu and Leana missed what happened next.

The armies of the dead clashed with the Apostates and the Heart of Vecna advanced on Cassian. She was no longer a toddler but a young adult, and yet her attitude was that of a child as she threw a tantrum and began complaining that he had cheated, that he was supposed to be beaten and broken and battered.

Cassian looked at the person that had once been his daughter.

“Then I have good news. I don’t love you any more”

He raised a fog as she cast collapsing star, which he failed to counterspell but responded to with Hellish Rebuke. Then he used sending to cast his voice around her as she swung wildly and randomly, attacking with Steel Wind Strike and a dancing rapier until she fell dying.

He used fleet of foot to run to her side.

“Don’t worry, daughter. You’ll always be with me,” he said as he used Shadow of Whispers to capture her soul.

He looked up. The five living lodestones had now transformed into 25-foot-tall statues, a wall that separated the new world of HIlan from the South.

Time began and the wheel of the cosmos began to turn on Day One when he heard a voice from behind him.

“Well I hop you aren’t expecting a thank you.”

He turned to see a man in brightly colored robes and with shells around him.

Baron steeped out from beside the statues where he had taken cover.

“That’s one way to avoid a paradox,” the man said to Baron before turning to Cassian and saying “And I can’t even be mad at you yet!”

There was some bickering and bantering between the Chronomancer and Baron before Baron said

“Yes, Uncle Tiago,” and went to leave with him.

- - - - -

In time, the shine of the Diamond City of  Darsam’oradrukafaren faded, though the city itself retained its importance as Morad, the capitol city of Hilan under the First Empress of Hilan - Cassian’s sister Caitríona.

The centuries echoed out and those who came to the wall understood it was important even as its significance was forgotten. Growing planst and moss and lichen grew up and over the statues as the Watchers kept back the rush of chaotic energy - the Wall that guarded the realm of men holding fast for the freedom of choice.

## Relationships

### The Party

**Crispin:** Belladonna is impressed with Crispin’s control of his emotions in a given situation; she never would have guessed he was The Hart of the Apostates during their brief detainment. She hopes to live up to expectations as an Apostate herself.

**Inkeri:** Belladonna has not had much direct interaction with Inkeri, to her own embarrassment. Perhaps it’s because she wants to keep from treating the aquan Tiefling as a tool - Inkeri’s knowledge of the future could be quite useful if it could be organized - but in any event Belladonna knows she will need to make some connection with her soon - if everyone is on the same team, they need to trust each other, and that won’t happen without communication.

**Leana:** Belladonna recognized Leana as an Apostate  from some other missions she’d been on. She and Leana seem to be on the same page when it comes to planning, and Belladonna is happy that someone else is planning exist strategies for the time being.

**Madu:** Belladonna is happy to have someone else recognize the worth of each person regardless of divine status. She is keen to see Madu put her physical strength to good use and is somewhat sad they didn’t get to make a spectacle with the metal bar on the cart. But in the grand scheme of things it all worked out as they all lived to fight another day.

**Quelle:** From what she has seen, Belladonna thinks Quelle has the overall right idea about things in general (even if she gives the gods a bit too much inherent respect). Arguing with them while penned up was quite the show, if slightly misguided. Discovering Quelle’s love of poisons has helped Belladonna find common ground with her.

### Other Characters

**Barrin Lorhalien:** Belladonna has formed no real opinion of Barrin as of yet, though she is more than willing to go on a quest of revenge for him just out of general principle.

**The First Evoker:** Belladonna respects the Marquess and has been to her home for several events, though her attendance at any given event was quite short. She hopes the Marquess believes in what she’s doing, but often reminds herself that they’re are indeed gods and their progeny and acolytes/followers and servants who would treat mortals better if given the chance. The trick is finding out which gods are bastards and which ones are . . . not.