Session 38

March 29th, 2015 - 25th of Harvester to the 2nd day of Brewfest (High Summer to Autumn Fest) 580 CY

   The efreeti laughs with delight at the words of Melath. He readily agrees to the elf's bargain - transportation to the Plane of Molten Skies for a wish home to the Flanaess and the safety of the Moat House. The Druid and the Pelorian express doubts while Aelfric remains stoic. It is agreed that they will attempt a Divination before accepting a genie's contract.

   Neirdre incants a spell to call upon the knowledge of his sun god. It is divined that they should use a different function of the Yellowskull to escape the nodes. Melath grasps the orb and, with his companions in tow, concentrates upon the quarters of the fungi queen. The group finds themselves teleported to the room of four gates in the quarters of Zuggtmoy. They see an opportunity to escape to the upper levels of the Temple and their eventual freedom. The old hag, however, has other ideas. She confronts the heroes before they are able to exit with demonic companions and a beseechment. She implores that Melath relinquish the Golden Orb or she will not be able "dissuade" her demonic kin from tearing Melath's companions limb from limb. Neirdre casts a spell which appears to keep the approaching demons at bay. Rivermist chants a spell of pure air, rightfully fearing a fungal spore attack. Melath directs his comrades to grasp his person, at which time he offers the artifact to the demoness. As she grasps for the orb, the party is swept away through the Ether and into the Plane of Elemental Fire, entering into contract with the efreeti.

   As they gain their wits they find that the luckless Cleric of St. Cuthbert, lacking proper protection, has burst into flames and died. Melath's hope that the hag-queen would accompany them to this hostile environment is dashed. He can only assume that the Queen remains trapped in her quarters in the Temple. The party quickly gathers Aelfric's undamaged possessions (and a finger bone) and follow Zaltar through the streets of the City of Brass.

   As the companions race across the sizzling cobblestones of the great city, they notice all manner of strange inhabitants - most of them in bondage to an efreeti overlord. There were hapless flame-haired dwarves, hissing Salamanders, giant fiery newts, man-scorpions, humans and elves - races unknown and unusual, all in bonds and sorrowfully left to their lot in life. Nevertheless, the occasional devil or Efreeti master would notice and look upon the company of "Primes" with curiosity and suspicion. Just as one of these fiends began to approach the party, Zaltar directs them to round a bend in the avenue and into a steaming alleyway. The genie presents a key and opens a great brass door through which the group enters, closing it behind them and escaping an unwanted inquest. They are taken to a room lined with books of many sorts in languages unknown. Zaltar indicates that they should wait here until he returns. With that, he leaves the room, locking the door behind him. The company is left with their thoughts and the finger bone of a dead companion.

   Just as Rivermist began to express her doubts that they would ever see the efreeti again, the sound of a key unlocking the door was heard. Zaltar beckoned for them to follow him through the citadel, which he explained, was owned by his master - the Illustrious Emir, Al-Zalahiri, Vizier and Bey of the Great Sultan, Etc... The company is taken up a great spiral stairwell, six to seven storeys high. With Neirdre puffing in the rear, the group enters a large open-air turret and beholds a vista like none other. 

   In the distance were great plains of molten earth; magma spouts springing into the air as if trying to escape their own furious bonds. Twirling vortexes miles in length reached into the red yellow atmosphere. The lapping waves of an enormous sea of oil, alight with great blue and fuchsia flames, settled with bluster upon the molten shores. Some native avian with wings of flame appeared to be floating overhead, plying the torrential winds of the plane. Upon the sea below could be viewed mighty basalt ships with the crest of the Sultan emblazoned upon their sails. One of the companions notices that the ships seem to disappear beneath the walls of the City of Brass. It is then that they get the uneasy feeling that the city is floating over and above the scene before them.

   Jarring them from their reverie, a deep basso voice is heard laughing from behind. "A mortal's first reaction to the great city is always amusing." The friends turn to see the hulking form of a noble efreeti Emir standing before them. "You have returned one of my most prized servants," said the crimson overlord. Raising a bushy brow, "I should pay you in the Wish he promised - if you will deign to relinquish title of Zaltar to me." Neirdre crinkles his face in wonderment, Rivermist shakes her head, and Melath gets that particular twinkle in his eye. One might think that the others would know how to avoid the dangers native to that shady countenance. Alas, his companions appear not to notice and Melath sets upon creating a one-sided bargain. The Emir wants none of it and holds fast to his original offer. The companions are forced to accept. It seems that Rivermist's pragmatism wins the day. Al-Zalahiri flamboyantly waves his hand and grants the wish of the Moat House Men who, find themselves standing before the welcome sight of the half-built keep -- and the leering faces of three vicious barbed devils.

   The fiends leap to attack. Their rending claws and gnashing teeth sink into flesh. The company gives as good as it gets, even slightly better as the monsters are forced to retreat and appear to blink out of existence. It is just at this moment that Prince Thrommel springs through the Moat House gate upon his trusty steed and accompanied by two companions. The look of disappointment upon Thrommel's face as the last devil gates out of existence is nearly heartbreaking. It seems that Al-Zalahiri's wish was tainted.