Meeting of Blood and Diplomacy

You sit around an ancient table of oiled wood polished to a fine shine over the centuries. In the main room outside, you hear the thump of music as business tries to return to normal in the Three Wishes, but business is far from normal.

You sit with Azonia, Gendar, and Kylie. Weston hovers like a shadow near the door, peeking outside to see if any trouble brews.

“The Mutual Trade Association is a very powerful band of merchants and commodity dealers running out of Sigil and into many of the known worlds,” speaks Azonia. “They are both politically powerful and very wealthy.”

“And two days ago you killed one of their own,” says Weston, his eyes not leaving the bar’s floor.

“This city is run by the Lady of Pain and her servants but they care very little for political squabblings of the people in the city. She cares about invasion or massive upheaval.”

Gendar clears his throat.

“This may seem important to you,” says the dark elf. “But not when compared to your primary quest. If Orcus’s plan takes place, the empty coffers of your bar will not matter one bit.”

“He’s right,” says Azonia. “We can help solve your problems in Sigil while you’re away. You must get to the Sheviathon and head to the White Kingdom where Doresain recovers the pieces of Timesus the Black Star.”

“You need only tell us how you want us to handle the situation,” says Azonia, her eyes flashing silver. “I have danced the political dance of the Trade Association for centuries. I might be able to divert some of the pressure. Kylie might be able to work the streets, find blackmail against those who know the truth and get them to speak it. Our new friend Weston might be valuable in this as well. He could…take care of…some of the more troublesome members of the Mutual Trade Association”

“Just tell us how you want us to handle it and then take care of your bigger problem.”

“Stop Doresain.”

The Pirate Captains and the Ghoul King

A bloated moon hangs over the blasted lands of the White Kingdom. Atop a bluff overseeing a sea of the crawling dead sits Doresain’s mausoleum. While the screams of the eternally damned fill the night air of this abyssal world, a low chanting from within a deep chamber of the mausoleum speaks to a far more sinister future.

“You have done well, Captains,” whispers the ghoul king. He crawls over a mound of black dust and ragged blood-lined stone. “You are to be commended.”

A being of stone and metal stands on one side of the chamber’s entryway. On the other stands a battle-scarred earth.

“You two have sailed chaos and the Astral Sea longer than most others ever have. You have survived battles against countless beasts and marauders who would see your ships crushed and your crews enslaved. You have taken part in a plan greater than any other ever conceived.”

The crawling Ghoul King looks up, affixing the two pirate captains with his dead eyes as he smiles.

“And your part is not over.”

A twisting line of fire wraps around the orc captain. He screams as it burns through his body. The Marut reaches for the wide-bladed axe on his side but a slash of white light sears past. His head falls from his body. Doresain catches his body as he falls, steering the oily black substance that pours out of his body into the carved grooves of a huge dark scripted circle that surrounds the mounds of black dust and blood-lined rock. Doresain stands with alarming speed and slashes open the burning orc captain’s throat. Soon his blood too fills the grooves of the enchanted circle.

The flow of blood begins to mix with the black dust and rock. It begins to coagulate and solidify into something else. It begins to form into a featureless humanoid form, massive in size.

“I will need more,” says Doresain. “Collect the crews.”

A huge red shape moves past the ghoul king as smiles again, drawing one clawed finger through the black sludge of a dead god.

Murder in Sigil

Murder in sigil


Imix wept.

Rivers of molten rock fell from his massive eyes. They rolled into the endless ocean below, an entire sphere of water floating in chaos. Upon his earthmote, he sat, head bowed low as his massive chest heaved in sobs.

He had waited so long for her. For so long he had imagined her return. She would return to him, a being of living fire, and they would embrace, encircle one another, and merge into one. They would rule over the remaining beings of the multi-verse, sealing off the Abyss, crushing the worlds of the planes above, and command every being in all mortal worlds to serve them.

For three hundred thousand years they had loved each other. For seven hundred thousand more, Ixis had waited to feel that love again. But when she returned. He felt it not. Instead, he felt something else. Something that made his heart burn ever hotter.

He could not deny it. He had seen the way she looked at the other insect- the golden-armored one who barked orders and ran from his Grue. Imix saw how she looked at him and knew how she felt. She loved him. Or she thought she might.

How could one as powerful as she care at all for a mortal? The thought made Imix sick.

Still, she had asked Imix to let her go and he did. She looked at him with that fire in her, a fire he had felt burning within him for just shy a million years. She had asked him to let her go and finish her quest. What could she mean? What quest did she have besides returning to him?

He would investigate this further. Though never the strongest mind in the pantheon of the Primordials, Imix was not without resources. He would find what she sought. He would seek what she sought.

And he would find a way to win her back.

Gaze of the Demon Queen

High above the Demonweb Pits, the Demon Queen of Spiders, Lolth, stands on her observation deck. Below her, her massive Chaos Ship, formed in the image of a huge spider, rumbled deep with its unending power.

It had been only a few minutes since her strike team had teleported below to the Pit of the Old Gods, but it was still a few minutes too long. Oh how she wanted that dagger. Oh how she wanted to know the secrets of the Dawn War chambers, lost so many thousands of years ago. When she saw the flash of red, signaling the teleportation of the Sheildbashers, she sighed. Her eyes narrowed.

“This isn’t over,” she whispered. Raising a hand she examined the ragged nail from where her Aspect had been spawned.



“I was a good man once,” Weston keeps his black eyes on the table in front of him. The thumping of the music in the Three Wishes vibrates through the table, but your attention is clearly on the man, if he can be called that, in front of you. His hands hold a cup filled with a warm red liquid Azonia had brought to him. You find how quickly she came to it a little alarming.

“I was a good man, once,” Weston repeats. “But not now.”

“I believed in what Zovelle was doing. I believe it even now. I could lie to you and tell you I didn’t know about the diabolical machine, but I did. He needed it to survive. A beast like him always hungers for blood. A beast as large as he requires so much of it. He served a purpose in Sigil. He got rid of those who needed to leave. We didn’t go after the workers. We didn’t go after those who produced things and who made Sigil a better place. We went after those who prayed on others. We went after those who grew fat from the sweat and torn bodies of others. So we tore their bodies as well.”

“He isn’t dead,” Weston looks to you and you see the tiny pinpoint of red light in the center of his black eyes. “Not really. Zovelle has been here a long time. His web of influence grows deep within Sigil. You may have cut apart his body, but his life lives on in the web of influence he created. His servants, though they do not think of themselves as such, will not stand for your actions. There will be repercussions for your actions. I can help you a small bit with this, but I was never a smart one. I was his master-at-arms, his enforcer. When he had a dirty job that needed to be done, and you can only imagine what dirty jobs existed that one such as himself would not do, I did them.”

“I want you to know this before you make your decision. I will serve you. I will not lie to you. I will ensure your bar is safe. I will act as your cooler.”

“But when I leave for an evening, do not ask where I go.”

Monster's Ball

After recovering two of the weapons of the Dawn War for Sinodel and Rosa, the party attended Zovelle’s party. There they found that Zovelle had been processing nobles in some huge terrible infernal machine. This machine grinded them up and chewed them out into a Blood Vault below Zovelle’s manor. There, the party battled Zovelle in his true form, that of a vampiric dragon.

After returning to their brothel, the party was addressed by Weston, Zovelle’s right hand man, who wished to work for them.


Sixty seven years ago…

The cabin door opened sending in the rushing hot winds of Chaos. Captain Irik narrowed his one remaining eye at the intruder, the young one – Vlaxx.

“You wanted to see me?” said the young Gith. Irik nodded and motioned for her to sit. In the center of his Fey-oak table sat a small orb no larger than an eye. It swamp with red and orange light, the same light of the massive Chaos engines of the ship in which they sat.

“Take hold of it with your mind, Vlaxx.” Said Irik. Vlaxx smiled at him and concentrated on the orb. It rose from the center of the table and spun in the air. “Difficult?” asked Irik.

“No,” said Vlaxx, with a smile. Irik stood and circled around her. From his belt he drew a curved knife of shining silver and put it to her to her throat. The orb wavered.

“If it drops, I will kill you where you sit.” said Irik.

He pressed the blade in. A small drop of green blood rolled down her slender neck.

“I will cut off your head right now. You will never see the skies of chaos again. You will never laugh with the crew. You will never get out of that chair. You will die staring at that orb laying on the desk. I will pick up your body and throw it out the back of the ship and not a single soul will ever mention your name again or spare you another thought. It will be as though you have never been.”

The orb wavered but held. Irik pressed the blade deeper, pulling it slightly. Her blood now flowed from the cut on her neck She held her breath but the orb remained steady in the air. A moment passed and Irik saw what he was looking for. She was not afraid. She expected to die here. Yet the orb remained in the air.

Irik removed the blade and draped a cloth over her shoulder. He reached out and clutched the orb in the air before walking back around to the front of the table. Irik held the cloth to the wound around her neck – a would that would follow her for the rest of her days.

“Holding the ship steady, even with death staring you down. That is a hard lesson to learn, young one.” He stared at her with his one eye, standing over her with the light of chaos behind him.

“Always hold the ship steady.”

The Sheviathon

You step through the tunnels underneath Sigil into a sight beyond mortal vision. “The Docks” does not do this place justice one single bit.

Above you swirls the entryway to the Astral Sea, an endless expanse of swirling mist dotted with the tiny points of a thousand thousand worlds. Below you is a vortex to chaos where the elements blend into streams of molten rock flowing from massive earthmotes and thousand-mile-wide funnels of storm.

Massive airships are anchored to huge stone docks. Some of them are as beautiful as the celestial servants of the Gods. Others are as hardened as a black iron blade. Huge iron statues stand upon massive blocks of stone from the surface of the docks. It would appear the entire complex floats on a giant earthmote itself sitting between the Astral Sea and the Elemental Chaos.

“The Shieldbashers, I was wondering if you’d make it here.” A thin being with yellow skin dotted with black smiles at you. His face is narrow and his red hair is pulled back into a topknot. “I’m Rake, an associate of Kylie.” says the Githzerai. “We’ve been keeping a quiet eye down here looking for your friends. The agents of the Ghoul King are definitely around.”

“We don’t know which of the ships here has hired out to the Ghoul King. That’s for you to find out. However, be subtle or his agents will become aware and they will know of your queries. You can try down at the [docks themselves], at the [warehouse district] to my left, or at the [Point of Light], the local warf bar. Be careful, however. Every beast that has sailed through the Seas above or the Chaos below flows through here and not all of them are friendly.”

The party battled the Githyanki on board the Sheviathon, a chaos ship hired by the Ghoul King to smuggle crates filled with pieces of Timesus the black Star. The party cut down the crew and defeated the captain, Captain Vlax. They then convinced her to join them and give over her ship.

The party is now in possession of the Sheviathon.

Zovelle's Letter

Zovelle letter


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