Mark of the Fool

“Oh that sounds bloody charmin’,” Cedric growled. “The hell’s a terror-field?”

“Yes, it most assuredly is since it does carry an aura of terror that hangs over the entire domain,” Isolde said. “This aura is concentrated within the hold of Ikarrash himself. It attacks the mind of all creatures foreign to the plane and stokes feelings of fight or flight within them that leaves them constantly on edge.”

“That sounds awful,” Drestra said. “Is there a way to overcome it?”

“Is there?” Baelin asked.

“Yes,” Alex said. “Strong will protects you against the worst effects of the terror-field…but it can still be a dangerous thing if it gets into your mind at a vulnerable moment. I read this nasty account about these adventurers who went into the domain, fighting the terror-field the entire time, and were beating it too. Right up until one of them got surprised by a demon springing from the shadows. It broke his concentration, his surprise turned to panic and next thing you know, he’s cutting down one of his own allies trying to get away, which caused the others to panic and…well, only one of them made it out alive.”

“But, we did find a spell…” Khalik flipped open his notes, squinting down at a line. “Called Adapt to Plane. It can protect from the worst effects of a domain’s hazards…and this one has many. The terror-field is one, but the air is also slimy and slightly corrosive. Not good for most life from our world. Magic and divinities are also affected by both the plane’s chaos alignment, and the terror-field, so miracles that inspire bravery in one’s heart are less effective in the domain of Cawarthin.”

“Yeah, and summoned monsters might be more inclined to lose their nerve,” Alex said. “Which is why it’s best to only use Subjugation type summoning magic. Those spells oblige the summoned creature to listen to the caster.”

“Aye…aye…is there any good news?” Cedric asked. “An’ can you cast this spell…Adapt to Plane?”

“No,” Alex admitted. “It’s a fifth-tier spell.”

“Which is where I come in,” Baelin said smoothly. “Since you have uncovered the solution, I shall provide it for you.”

Silence followed as the cabal nodded, while the Heroes glanced at each other.

“Wait…” Hart slowly raised his hand for the first time. “You weren’t going to cast it on us unless this lot figured out that it existed?”

“Precisely,” the ancient wizard said. “If I were to hold your hands for the entire exercise, it would teach you to relax and not fend for yourselves.”

Drestra raised her hand. “Um, but wouldn’t…everyone stand a good chance of dying if things went wrong?”

“No, since I will be placing spell-marks on one and all to guard your lives. But nothing more. If you cannot research the enemy properly to find solutions for their advantages, then you cannot overcome any opponent that approaches your own might. Not without incredible risk to yourself, and a reliance on random luck, and that is very unhealthy.”

“That’s…that’s cold,” Hart grunted. “True, but cold.”

“If warm is what you wanted, then I would suggest going to sit by the fireside of your grandparents. Rest assured, my young friends, your enemies will be much colder than me.”

“Aye, I don’t think the Ravener’d be givin’ us time to run back t’camp t’ask for advice,” Cedric said. “Makes sense gettin’ folk t’think’ for themselves.

“Indeed, I am glad you see it that way,” Baelin said. “Now, to my regular students, are there any other hazards that you’ve uncovered?”

“There is the chaos of the domain itself,” Isolde said. “It can affect one’s actions if one spends enough time within it, driving one to chaos eventually, but such an effect usually takes months of exposure to manifest.”

“Very good,” Baelin complimented her. “Now…is there anything else you discovered that might be helpful?”

“We compiled a catalogue of the most common demons noted in the domain,” Alex offered, flipping the pages of one of his notebooks to a series of drawings depicting ferocious denizens of Cawarthin. “Considering the terror-field, it’s not surprising that a lot of the demons associated with the place have ‘terror’ as their foundational need.”

He pointed to the image of a vulture-headed demon with the body of a long, lanky humanoid flanked by oily black wings on either side. Its talons looked like they could gut a bonecharger. “They’re called pazuzites, and wrath is their foundational concept. These things fly into states of rage as easily as they draw breath, they shoot lightning, are about as tall as Grimloch, yet they’re surprisingly strong, despite how skinny they are. They can fly, and it takes nothing to drive them into one of their rages since it’s their default status. Too much calm and peace, and they go nuts.”

Alex showed each Hero the image, before flipping to the next one. “Now this little bastard’s called an agwiagma.”

“Well, that things’s bloody ugly!” Cedric said emphatically, eyeing the drawing Alex was displaying with a frown.

It had the face of a really ugly fish, with wide, staring eyes, fangs poking from bulging lips, and bat-like wings emerging from its sides. Hanging from below its gut, dozens of thread-thin tentacles dangled, and extending from its forehead, a single tentacle glowed with a crimson light.

“Blech,” Grimloch growled. “That thing looks nasty: all the worst parts of anglerfish and jellyfish. Neither are too tasty.”

“Then I don’t think this demon would be any tastier,” Alex said. “Its tentacles are just brimming with deadly venom, its forehead tentacle can bewitch the mind if you look at it for too long…and it also shoots beams of heat. If it bites you, it carries diseases that it passes on through the bite. It’s not good. Their foundation is fear.”

“Makes sense,” Grimloch said. “It looks like what a lot of selachar nightmares are made of.”

“And speaking of things made of nightmares, B'alamxibas also have a foundation of fear.” Alex flipped to the image of a tall, muscular, skinless humanoid demon with barbed claws and the head of a spotted jaguar. “Watch out for these sneaky brutes, if they ambush you and clamp their jaws on you, it's not likely they’ll be letting go anytime soon.”

He flipped to another page, revealing a familiar three-eyed demon. “These are tiashivas, we’ve had dealings with them before. Nasty creatures. Strong. Fast.”

“I know them,” Drestra’s voice crackled. “Some were at the camp in the Crymlyn.”

“Yeah,” Alex said. “They’re demons of violence, so they’re going to be most comfortable…well, trying to kill us.”

“That fits,” Cedric said. “Oh! Question. Since a bunch oh these great, dirty demons want everyone around ‘em t’be cowerin’ an’ such…are they gonna be pissed if we ain’t scared of ‘em?”

“An astute observation,” Baelin said. “Your bravery and urge to seek a fight will drive them to vigorously try to destroy you as surely as we of the material plane would strive to stop a blight from destroying our food stores. Now, is there anything you learned of demonkind in general?”

“They’re resistant to diseases and immune to most common poisons,” Khalik said. “Because their nature is so different from ours. Some are resistant to spells, and tend to have tough hides, stout constitutions, and great resistance to the elements.”

“Indeed.” Baelin nodded. “I am pleased that you took your homework so seriously. And that leads us to your specific targets. What can you tell us about them?”

Alex flipped through his notebook, showing the Heroes a drawing of a massive, hyena-headed demon with the body of a corpulent, humanoid toad. Its belly was a distended sack wearing an enormous pair of plump, amphibian lips.

“Introducing Azzad, Zabai, and Osshar,” he said, “the three sons of Ikarrash, who Baelin’ll be killing while we look for these three bastards.”

“But there’s only one of ‘em there,” Cedric pointed out.

“That’s because they’re triplets! They’re the spitting image of each other,” Alex pointed out. “Each has the foundational concept of terror as their most basic need…after that, information gets a bit spotty. Not too many accounts anywhere of folk having fought them. They’re huge, we know that. About twenty feet tall, and really strong. Their mouths spit mucus and can swallow someone in an instant. …and that’s about it. Oh wait, one more thing. Their laughter hurts. I mean it literally physically hurts.”

“Yeah, they use some kinda wave of sound to break down flesh,” Thundar said. “Hurts the ears too, obviously. Now that’s it. It’s all we got.”

“That’s enough,” Drestra said, “I think we can work with that.”

“Excellent,” Baelin said, smiling at his students. “Excellent research done by all of you. You are far more prepared for the rigours of this journey than most are when they first venture into the hells. It will aid you quite nicely, and I suspect my spell-marks might not be necessary. And speaking of that…I would like all of you to collect your things then gather before me. We have a stop to make before reaching the hells itself.”

Alex was the first to materialise and a blast of sweltering heat stung his eyes.

He took in the area surrounding him, swearing. Laying all around, was a wasteland of dried out trees and sun-blasted earth. The ruined structures of what looked to be an ancient city extended skyward, with buildings in different states of collapse leaning at crooked angles, like hands reaching from the surface of the sea as their owner sank beneath its depths.

“This is not a nice place,” he said, his grip tightening on the aeld-staff as it emitted waves of curiosity and trepidation.

A moment later, the entire war-party—including Baelin—appeared, each eyeing their surroundings with the caution of experienced fighters. Theresa and Claygon stepped closer to Alex, flanking him protectively.

The Heroes scrutinised the ruins, muttering beneath their breaths.

“Where are we?” Drestra asked.

“Welcome to the lost city of Sallamora.” Baelin stepped forward, scanning their environment intensely. “We are roughly three thousand miles southwest of Generasi.”

“Three thou—” Cedric whirled on Baelin, his eyes bulging. “That’s bloody…that’s…”

“About two months travel by ship,” Hart murmured.

“Made in just a couple of teleport spells?” Drestra gasped.

“You get use to it,” Thundar said, straightening his chain shirt and eyeing his mace.

“Indeed.” Baelin turned to a partly-melted statue standing in the centre of a nearby square. “For you will be travelling much, much farther than this. Now, the reason why we are here is that the barrier between the planes is rather weak in this location. Weaker than in most places in our world, which is an advantage to us. Hmmmm…” His eyes narrowed, examining the ruins. “Just give me a brief moment.”

As Baelin fell into silence and the others checked over their supplies one final time, Alex opened his mana senses to their surroundings, trying to feel for any magic that might lay nearby.

And something did tingle in his senses.

Something that made that strange power stir within him.

He couldn’t quite grasp what he was feeling at first, but—as the heartbeats passed—he finally understood.

“It feels like…it feels a bit like my summoning magic here,” he said to Theresa. “I can feel how close the other planes are…no, wait, that’s not quite right.” He squinted, carefully examining the energies around him. “No, it’s only the hells. This place feels a bit like…oh how can I put this…like how it feels when I conjure demons.”

The huntress’ hands immediately dropped to her sword-hilts, and her eyes scanned the shadows between nearby ruins. Beside her, Brutus growled, following her gaze with his own, sniffing the air. “How’s that possible?Why would the hells be so close to our world?”

“It must be like it is in my homeland,” Isolde said, glancing at Cedric as the Chosen stepped closer to her. “In the Rhinean Empire—especially around the four elemental peaks—the barrier between our world and the elemental planes is thinner. That is the reason why elementals are so common there.”

“And there are also places within the Barrens where the barrier between the elemental plane of earth and the material world is weaker,” Baelin said, before nodding toward a rather large building nearby. “Here, that phenomenon is present with respect to the hells. The mortals that once lived here used this weakened barrier tocall armies of summoned demons and devils, conquering their enemies with the forces of chaos and tyranny.”

“It…doesn’t look like it worked out too good for them in the long run,” Thundar commented, his eyes falling on an ancient skeleton crushed beneath a pillar.

“That it did not,” Baelin said grimly. “In time, slaves broke free of chains and slaughtered masters, then went home. Now only ruins remain, but within these ruins lies something useful for us.”

With a single word of power, the ancient wizard waved his hand toward a doorway. There was a pulse of great power and the air space within the doorframe—which had led to nothing more than a tumbled pile of stone—rippled and shifted, until a jungle of otherworldly plantlife beneath a stormy sky appeared, it was criss-crossed with blood-red lightning.

“This is your doorway into the realm,” Baelin said. “It will also be your doorway out of it. Ensure that you know its location well, for if you lose track of it while you are in Cawarthin? Then even I will not be able to guarantee your safety.”