From: Malaggar
Date: Year 29, Day 122
RE: Status Report on Valas of the House Baenrae
The recently aquired student Valas has fully absorbed the Radiance of Lolth, and is now able to survive unimpeded in the Halls of Deepfire. Although the brittle form of his male body was damaged by the transformation, his intellect remained intact. He has passed his last test of Pattern Adaptablility, and we rank him in the top percentile. He will be watched closely, as per your request, to ensure that his father's notoriety hasn't been passed onto him. He has been told of the punishment House Baenrae received, including his father's transformation into the more malleable Drider form. It was also explained to him the only reason for his continuing survival is due to his strong mind, and eagerness to attempt the Magma transformation. He already has delved into his studies, and has taken an interest in the teaching of Gelroos.
I cannot state too many times the ecstasy I feel as being chosen to be the first to survive the Brilliance, and then being allowed to sit as the Patron of the House of Patterns. My life will be devoted to this latest of Lolth's genious. Already, the Pattern-Spirit (informally called "motes") Paradigm has advanced our understanding of the foundation of magic further than thought possible. We have taken the first true steps to discovering the Tenth Realm, the discovery of which will ensure Lolth's omnipotence.
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To: Mistress Akordia, Will-Power of Lolth
From: Malaggar
Date: Year 30, Day 32
RE: The student Valas
As per our discussion, Valas has been removed from his previous House. He told me to reiterate his apology for suggesting his father's opinions (delusions) about a Power greater than Lolth. The pain he caused his classmates for his foolish statements will ensure no such delusions will take root. His mentor, Gelroos, seems to have been able to show him the errors in his philosophy. It amazes me how such a brilliant boy can be so moronic in his understanding of Lolth.
However, other than his philosophical misunderstandings, he does exceedingly well in the Paradigm. He has already surpassed almost all of his fellow second-generation classmates. Only Sabrar can be considered his equal. The two of them could easily become active researchers within several decades.
Once again, I apologize for my impudence in infering that Lolth is not, in fact, omnipotent. I thank her and you for allowing me to mend my thoughts; the pain will remind me of the foolishness of my gender.
----
To: Mistress Akordia, Will-Power of Lolth
From: Malaggar
Date: Year 47, Day 99
RE: Misguided Cultists
Lolth's Priestesses were extremely efficient in rooting out the five members of the Pattern Cult. Performing their transformation into Driders was an excellent example to the assembled School Of Patterns. I assure you there will be no further studies done by anyone in the Schools into the foolish notion of the Greater Pattern. I was pleased to see that Valas and Sabrar were not involved in the cult, as their intellects will soon be ready to join their fellow researchers. Both of them have already mastered Minor Magic, and are learning the first part of Major Magic. They both show a great aptitude with Motes, sometimes rivaling their teachers. A couple more decades of training will see them to the status of Arch-Mage, at an unheard-of age. Lolth's risk in Valas's ancestry seems to be paying off. I believe that both will make Directors soon after ascension to Arch-Magi, although Valas has more of a penchant for pure research than Sabrar, although Sabrar will make a superb administrator, his natural charisma, and all.
I would like to humbly offer my gratitude in allowing me to remain where I am, and not join the Cultists in their transformations. The priestesses you sent will ensure the cult will not re-emerge. Although I'm confused as to why females can not withstand the Brilliance of Lolth. Nonetheless, the shielding created by our researchers guided by Her mind is functioning well enough to protect them from the ravages of Deepfire.
----
To: Mistress Akordia, Will-Power of Lolth
From: NeoMalaggar
Date: Year 53, Day 172
RE: Cleanup
Cleanup of Deepfire is in progress. All Masters have been destroyed except Gelroos. Remaining students are with him, including Valas and Sabrar. All Greater Items and Books have been carried back to Menzoberanzan. Gelroos has the Master Tome. We have the remaining Magma Drow contained until the Avatar of Lolth arrives.
NeoMalaggar thanks Lolth for the new form and mind.
**********
Date: Year 53, Day 179
Location: Deepfire Volatile Research Laboratory #1
"You must hold the lab for as long as possible. I need all the time you can give us to convince the Wild Motes to open a Portal for us."
That is what Master Gelroos told you and others an hour ago, but it seemed like longer. You have been fortified inside the lab for a week, fending off the forces that Lolth had sent to destroy you and your race-brothers. In that time, you had only lost two. But now, you were losing more. For instead of facing Driders that had been your race-brothers, or magically protected Priestess, you were now facing hordes of vile undead. And that which has no life to lose does not retreat in the face of powerful magic. And thus, the defenders are falling. You and Sabrar are the last line - you wait inside the lab itself, behind the sealed door. You can hear your companions fighting in the halls outside. You can hear them dying.
Behind you, Master Gelroos is speaking, pleading to the Spirit-Patterns to help in your escape. There is desperation in his voice; not just because of the limited time before the undead break through into the lab, but because he is bargaining with the Wild Motes - the unpredictable embodiments of Chaos Magic. He is using them because there is not enough time to research the Patterns for Travelling. And it is well-known that the Chaos Motes can do anything, when they want to. You hope he will succeed and you will be able to survive to see your destination. The Outer Planes.
There is a pounding at the door, and unliving shrieks as the Warding Patterns complete their bargain and inflict magical destruction on the invaders. Not long before you must talk to the Motes for help in battle.
The Outer Planes is where Master Gelroos said that the remaining Magma Drow could hide from Lolth's fury. While it is said that the Spider Queen herself lives there, so do many other gods. It should be a simple enough matter to find a realm where Lolth cannot reach. After all, there is all of multiple Infinities to hide in. Perhaps you could even find the place where the goddess of the renegade females lives. Or perhaps that story is just wishful thinking of the males.
The Master's voice rises in volume and picks up speed. The Wild Motes are cooperating - a sickly greenish glow begins to build in intensity behind you. A Portal - Gelroos is truly a Master. Sounds from the door draw your attention back to the matter at hand. The door is giving way. The undead are entering the lab. A quick speech, and they are brought low by a wave of cold.
Sabrar smirks at you. He knows he won your bet about them only being protected from the intense heat and not figuring that you would be able to conjure cold. You ignore him, knowing that you'll pay up if you live. More monsters; more magical death from your hands.
"Get ready!" calls Gelroos from the far side of the lab. You risk a glance back. The Master stands before a disk made of swirling mist that glows a brilliant green. His hands are still raised in supplication to the Spirit-Patterns and he returns to reading from the Master Tome. Not long now. A gasp of horror from Sabrar wrenches your attention back to the invaders. What you see shocks you as much as he.
Coming through the door, over the frozen bodies of the previous waves, comes your fellow students. But they are not running from the invaders towards you for salvation - they are coming to kill you. They have been Turned. The withered limbs and bared fangs are a mockery of what they once where. Regardless of your training or heritage, this sight, this violation of the Drow body and spirit still gives you pause. And in that crucial hesitation, they are upon you.
The chill bite of their unnaturalness reminds you that there are no friends left. Quickly, you and Sabrar call on Motes to destroy those before you. But the damage has been done. Besides the gashes on your arms, you feel drained. They have stolen some of your life. Your mind is heavy with fatigue - you seem to have forgotten the rites to call the larger Motes. But you must fight on. The Portal is nearly ready and you must escape.
A blast of lightning cuts through the ranks before you, flashing from behind you to reign death upon the heads of your enemies. It's the Master. The Portal is ready.
"Fall back! Quickly, before the Wilders lose interest!" You and Sabrar take advantage of his distraction to jump back from your position and run towards the portal. Arriving, both of you stop and turn back to send your last power at the oncoming hordes.
"Master! Go through, we will protect your escape!", Sabrar yells. "No! You have more life ahead of than I! Valas, you and Sabrar go first." is the Master's reply. You start to protest, but are cut off by Master Gelroos.
"Dammit, boy! Drow men always pay their debts of honor. Now go!" And he pushes you towards the Portal. Seeing the undead right behind him, you swallow your arguments and turn to jump through the Portal. You can see Sabrar just behind you, closely followed by Master Gelroos, who grips the Master Tome in his arms. Just as you leap into the Portal, you see it begin to waver and pulse. You only hope it is still open.
And then you are in and the magical energies course through you. And consciousness fades...
----------
Date: Year 53, Day 179?
Location: ??? (Through the Portal)
You awake to the sensations of being carried and set down on a hard surface. It is warm here - not the pleasant heat of Deepfire, but still comfortable if cooler. You hear snatches of conversation, spoken in an oddly accented surface common.
"...into the main steel vat..." "...Limbo-derived random doors..." "...alive? How by Silverbeard..." "...leather-headed tiefling!"
You feel a warm tingle spreading across your chest. Detached and clinically, you classify it as the action of Minor Healing Patterns. Then a deep, rumbling voice cuts through the chatter, silencing it. "The sod's still intact, still alive, and now conscious. Let's hear his tale before deciding what to do about him."
You open your eyes and stare into the face of a giant, male Drow. At least, that's your first impression. The face is black and elven, but the proportions are wrong. It is something other than an Enlarged Drow. The hair and eyes are the wrong color - no Drow alive has nut brown hair or green eyes. As you sit up, you can see your surroundings.
The small crowd surrounding you takes up most of your field of view. They are mostly men, and mostly human. You can see a dwarf or two, plus others that are not as readily recognizable. All are dressed as smiths - heavy leather gloves, aprons, and boots; with the arms and legs bare. Beyond them, you see an immense chamber filled with large metal buckets, mazes of chains and pulleys, vats set into the floor. This chamber echoes with the whoosh of massive bellows and the clang of hammers working metal. It is the largest foundry that you have ever heard of or seen. The deep voice draws your attention back to the giant beside you. "Can you stand?" You nod and he helps you to your feet.
You can see that he is nearly ten feet tall, with powerful limbs. His deep green and black robes make it hard to tell, but his build seems to be vaguely elven. While he seems friendly, you notice a mace about the size of your upper body hanging from his belt. Once you are on your feet, the giant addresses the crowd. "Alright, alright. Get back to work, Godsmen. I'll handle this from here." The smiths slowly back away and go back to their duties. The noise increases. The giant turns back to you. "Let's go into my office and talk. My name is Ombidias."
You can tell by his manner that you have no choice but to go with him, and that he expects a name. If he is the one who healed you, he does deserve that much. Leaving out all mention of House and Realm, you tell him, "Valas."
The "office" is merely a small chamber with a door that can cut out much of the noise from the great chamber beyond. The heat is still tolerable, but getting colder away from the vats of molten metal. As your skin is fading back to the silvery black, you know that the air is less than 500 degrees; much less than the 2000+ of Deepfire. Only the surface gets this cold. Did the Portal fail? Are you still only in the Realms?
"Now then. I see that you were in a fight of some kind before dropping into our steel vat. Based on the fact that you aren't part of our alloys, you have heat protection on you. Was it Gehenna?"
What to tell him? You must find out where you are, but you must also keep secrets until you, Sabrar and Master Gelroos figure out what to do. That prompts a question. "Where are my companions? Two others." And the others said that learning the tongue of the weak surface dwellers was pointless.
Ombidias briefly frowns. Apparently, he does not like your attitude. But he does answer your question. "I'm afraid they didn't make it through. You are our only 'guest' at the moment. I must know something of why you are here. Otherwise, I will have to turn you over to the Hardheads and let them question you."
You don't like the sound of 'the Hardheads'. It sounds as if that idea is distasteful even to this powerful being. You have to place some trust in this man if you are to find where the others went. But first you must know what you are dealing with. "What race are you?" then belatedly you add, "Please." The surface dwellers place more value on courtesy than your race.
He blinks in surprise. "I am voadkyn. This is important to you?"
You can speak now. Whatever a voadkyn is, it is not a Drow. "Yes. We were fighting some which looked similar to you. I had to be sure I was not still in enemy lands. What is this place, and where is it? Please."
The giant considers. "Ahh, I see now. You are a fellow Prime; a different world perhaps, but from the Prime as I was. You are standing on the central floor of the Great Foundry in the city of Sigil. You are in the greatest patch of neutral ground in the Outer Planes."
A brief flash of joy. It worked! The Portal took you to the Planes; you are free from Lolth's vengeance. At least, for a time. "I must leave to search the city. The Portal we used seemed to be unstable. If the others are not here, they may be elsewhere in... Sigil." You turn to leave, then back. "Ahh, where is the exit? Please."
A deep rumbling laugh is your reply. "Not so fast, Valas. There are some things you must know before I can in good conscience let you leave."
----------
Date: Year 53, Day 180
Location: Somewhere in Sigil
After spending a cold, uncomfortable night in a small room in the slag yard of the Foundry, you are now wandering the maze-like streets of this strange city. While you expected the temperature to be a problem (it seems the warmest it ever gets is 70), light is not the problem you expected it to be. While untested, you assumed that the Magma Drow were just as susceptible to light as the Drow which spawned them. However, it seems that is not the case. Of course, that may have more to due with the fact that there is no sun than any superiority of the Magma Drow race.
The sky of Sigil merely gets brighter, an increase in the ambient light level. Once you got out of the Lower Ward in which the Foundry sits, you could actually see the sky instead of ever-present soot and smog. Gazing up, you felt twinges of fear of heights, or falling, or something. For that was when you found that the city was built on the inside of a giant ring - you could see the other side far overhead.
Now, you are walking through what could be the rich part of the city. The buildings are large, and clean. The streets are wide and not packed like those of other areas. But there is still the mix of familiar and strange races. You have seen things that can only be demons walking the streets without being on a killing rampage. Everywhere you go, you have been amazed. but now, you are afraid once more.
Up ahead, you can see a party of Drow. Three men and two priestesses. They are walking towards you through the crowds - you don't know if they've seen you. Quickly turning to go back the way you came, you start to backtrack to find somewhere to turn off and wait for them to pass. On the left is an alley, which you duck into. You should be safe in here. Unless they saw you, in which case you'd better get inside. Moving further down the alley, you start looking for a door...
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