The Politics of the Beasts

From Lexicanum

A Poisonous Situation

 The Party spent the next six months primarily in Sigil, and the Outlands - working mostly for Sir Vaimish Craid and his sister Greir.

One morning a messenger arrived at their door with an urgent message for them from Greir asking them to come to their estate. On arrival they were informed by the lady that her brother had returned from a mission in the Beastlands but had been bitten by an aeserpent, a deadly snake. He had managed to crawl back to a portal, but  had had fallen into a coma. No healing spell had been able to awaken him from this unnatural sleep.
 
The party, tasked with finding a cure, set out into the City of Doors. Petherwick and Dronic made straight for the Great Library. Fiara headed for the Bazaar and Atreus, after stopping off to replenish his wine supply, began searching the zoos and various private collections in the city, all looking for information on aeserpents.

Dronic eventually located a Bestiary in the Library which Petherwick was able to read  with Comprehend Languages, which gave some basic information, but they found little else of significance other than aeserpents were native to the Beastlands. Atreus stopped off at The Burning Man on his way home and spread the word that they were in the market for chant on aeserpents and The Beastlands!

Later that evening an unsavoury looking tiefling gnome, called Figl t'Shiv, arrived at the house. For a small fee, he pointed Atreus towards Lil'z Rou a chant-broker who could be found at the Civic Festhall who was something of an expert on The Beastlands. Impressed by the Guide's honesty, Atreus put him on a retainer!
 
Early next day they headed to the Civic Festhall and met Rou, a misshapen githzerai, with  a bad eye and a twisted mouth. It cost them 50gp but the chant-broker was able to point them in the direction  of Alsiphone, a nymph, and the only one over to cure anyone from aeserpent venom poisoning.The githzerai gave them directions to find her lake and the party immediately headed to the Clerk's Ward, where Rou told them there was a portal to the Beastlands.
 
They arrived in the Beastlands from under a tree on the edge of a clearing on the lower slopes of a mountain. Atreus was first to arrive and found himself immediately confronted by a mountain lion drinking from the pool. the lion started turned to attack, but the fighter was able to defuse the situation using his bloodline ability. And by all the rest of the party had arrived, he had secured directions for getting to the river.
 
In the absence of any roads or even game trails, their route to the river -  following the stream down the mountain - was difficult and in places dangerous. Petherwick in particular found it hard going and had to take frequent rests, but eventually they came down through the forest to the foothills that surrounded the mountain range and decided to camp.
 
Their rest that "night" was disturbed by a couple of bears deciding they would make a nice snack, but the party rallied and the two bears were slain.
 

River of Death

Next “morning” the party moved forward, following the stream and it flowed across the grasslands; they had a brief peaceful encounter with a group of Githzerai before resting again. As they set off next morning, heading for the lake the stream emptied into, Petherwick extemporised at some length what they could expect from the nymph, and warned of the dangers – particularly to the male members of the party. They decided that Fiara, as a female, should lead negotiations. In preparation for the meeting Atreus, Dronic and Hothfin fixed blindfolds round their eyes while Petherwick pulled hit wizard’s hat so far down over his eyes he could only see his feet!Alsiphone's pool

When they arrived, rather than the crystal clear pool they had been expected, the lake was a sludgy polluted mess – something very obviously was wrong. Fiara called out a greeting to Alsiphone. For a few moments, nothing happened then somewhat tortuously the nymph appeared, pulling her essence together from the polluted waters, her appearance had more the look of a hag than the beauteous maiden they had been expecting from Petherwick’s lecture. The nymph was obviously in great pain  and seemed badly disoriented.  It was obvious that whatever was affecting the lake was directly affecting the Alsiphone herself. It was clear to Fiara that in her current state they were not going to get the antidote for Sir Vaimish. They would have to find the source of the pollution and stop it before they nymph could be returned to her normal state.

The source of the pollution was a river to the north that fed the lake, so they began trudging upstream. After about half a day’s trek, past pools of dead fish and dying riverside plants and animals, they found the source of the problem. The Modron March was trudging it’s way up the riverbank, hemmed in one side by an impenetrable wall of thorns and on the other by a massive pack of dogs. The massed ranks  of modrons were leaking oil and other fluids into the river polluting it. The party made their way through the ranks of modrons until they found a decaton who was prepared to speak to them. The decaton tod them the March had been diverted first by the intervention of a mortai and then by a pack of wemic and subsequently forced up the path of the river hemmed in by the dogs and a group of druids who had constructed the wall of thorns. Under the treaty that allowed the modrons to march through the Beastlands they were forbidden from causing any harm to natives of the plane, the March therefore had no choice but to divert. They would be unable to leave the river and return to their normal route unless one or other of the groups blocking them permitted them to pass.

Fiara and Dronic tried negotiating with the dogs on the western back, but to no avail. Petherwick tried negotiating with the druids on the western bank but it proved equally futile as they were busy clearing up a major incursion from the Bloodwar and had little time or patience to spare for modrons. Eventually the decided to back-track the March and see if the wemic proved more amenable.

Dronic led the way back downstream, ,tacking the modrons back from where they first entered the river’s course across the grasslands. They had to pause briefly to deal with an attack by some dretch – presumably stragglers from the demonic incursion referred to by the druids. Fiara was badly wounded in the fight, but a combination of Dronic and Atreus’ blade, Hothfin’s staff and Petherwick’s spells soon dispatched the pitiful creastures. They then found themselves surrounded by a pack of wemic hunters. The leader of the hunters thanked the for killing the dretch and saving them the trouble and asked what they were doing in their lands. After Petherwick explained the situation, the wemic leader seemed sympathetic but said they had herded the modrons out on behalf of Alarion, the prince of a nearby avariel city. In order to allow the modrons back, they would have to secure permission from him.  

With a heavy sigh the party set out across the grasslands – heading in the direction pointed out by the wemic. After a few hours, they spotted a huge tree rising out of the grasslands. As they moved towards it, they were met by a squad of winged elves, who invited them in to the city – contingent on relieving them of their weapons and any fire-making gear. The elves escorted them to guest quarters and informed them that Alarion would be available at the revel later. In the meantime they had the freedom of the city – so long as they abided by it’s laws.

 

Breath-of-Life

The party spent a pleasant day wandering round Illifar-in-the-Wind. Dronic and Fiara took the opportunity to avail themselves of the local healer’s care and the entire party reacquainted themselves with the concept of bathing. Suitably refreshed, and Atreus having arranged for their clothes to be laundered, they donned clean clothes provided by the avariel and headed off to the revel. The revel was a pleasant experience, finer elven wine flowed and exquisite food was provided. The party mingled with the guests, Dronic and Fiara being something of a curiosity to the winged elves. After plucking up his courage, Petherwick mingled freely failing to notice the slightly pained expressions behind the exquisitely polite facades as he expounded at great length on diverse matters to any group of avariel he could attach himself to! Eventually they were summoned before the prince, who listened attentively to their story. He seemed willing to help but advised that the Great March had originally been diverted by the actions of Breath-of-Life, a mortai, and he advised that before anything could be done they should seek sanction from he/she/it!

Next morning they set out early in search of the mortai which Alarion told them could be found in the mountains to the southwest. They crossed the grasslands and through the forested foothills of the mountains without incident, as they moved higher the trees changed from deciduous to coniferous (not carnivorous!) and almost with a single step the season seemed to change from late summer to winter as snow began to fall. They made camp that night in a clearing on the lower slopes of the mountain, noting as they pitched the tents a furious storm raging higher up the slope. Their rest that night was disturbed by the attentions of a pack of hungry wolves,  presumably disturbed by the great storm raging, but the party escaped with only minor wounds.

Next morning they set out again up the mountain, Dronic and Atreus with their mountaineering experience (not to mention the climbing gear they had thoughtfully packed in their backpacks just in case) leading the way. As they neared the snow-line, they paused and Petherwick called out the mortai’s name into the teeth of the raging storm. A thunderous voice asked them to wait, and about ten minutes later the storm abated and the mortai’s face appeared in the clouds above. When they explained their mission, the mortai advised that he had no real objection to allowing the modrons to return to their original course, but he had only diverted the March at the behest of a nymph named Alsiphone who had been afraid the march would disrupt the equilibrium of her pool! The party looked at each other in frustration and tried to explain to the mortai they had been sent by Alsiphone, however as they lacked a token proving that he/she/it said nothing could be done.

Petherwick, lamenting the stupidity of nymphs, and complaining bitterly about his sore feet the whole way, they trudged down the mountain heading back for towards the nymph’s pool. As they marched Petherwick, in-between complaints about his feet, kept muttering about the “butterfly effect” and other abstruse arcane matters to anyone who would listen, though he didn’t find many takers!

Arriving at the pool, Fiara went forward as the other strenuously avoiding looking on and managed to obtain a lock of hair from the nymph. She noted that the nymph was in much worse condition and appeared close to death. Given the apparent urgency, they turned immediate and without any rest, headed back to the mountain and began ascending, Petherwick still complaining about his sore feet! Reaching the mortai, after a brief diversion with some giant eagles, they presented the token. Breath-of Life accepted this and then instructed them to take it to Alarion with his blessing! For the second time that day they descended the mountain and headed back to Illifar-in-the-Wind, accompanied by Petherwick’s grumbling the whole way!

Arriving at Illifar-in-the Wind about half a day later, they secured an audience with Alarion and updated him on the situation. The prince gave them an arrow and a feather from his wing as a token to the wemic tribe. Footsore and weary they set off again across the grasslands to locate the Larkspur tribe! Eventually tacking them down hours later, they presented Alarion’s token to the herd-leader who readily agreed to allow the modrons to re-cross their territory. She did suggest that the party hurry to the river where the modrons were marching as her scouts had informed her something was happening. Once more without rest, and accompanied by Petherwick’s grumbling they set off at pace.

They found the modron march  assembled an the riverbank, above them the mortai was causing vast torrents of rain to fall cleansing the river of the pollutants. Weary, footsore and now wet, they contacted the decaton they had met earlier and gave him the good news. As the modron army began retracing the party headed downriver to Aliphone’s pool. As the pollutants were cleared by the fresh rainfall, the nymph began to recover quickly and was more than happy to give the party the antidote for the poison they sought.