Safe and sound in Barnaby’s Magnimarian townhouse, the party can finally relax. It’s been a harrowing journey to this point. From the sleepy town of Sandpoint, to the rocky foothills of Jorgenfist, to the time-trapped halls of the Runeforge, the party has experienced it all.
Barnaby’s housekeeper greets them. In his absence, the mail pile has only grown. Some of it is addressed to Aldern Foxglove, but there is a particular envelope that seems interesting. Barnaby opens and reads the letter, which is from an old friend he invested in. She is staying at the Blue Bunyip and requires some practical assistance in terms of her research.
The party agrees to head there in the morning.
While everyone begins to wind down for the evening, Trace heads off into the night for a quick bit of self-reflection. He heads down to the Underbridge, the home of the only shrine of Sarenrae. Although abandoned and crumbling, he can still make out the features in reverence to his goddess.
He repents for his actions, knowing that his choices have been questionable at times. It’s all been for the greater good, but Trace is only mortal. He will continue to make mistakes, and he can only ask for a sign that Sarenrae is still with him.
A man calls out to Trace from an upstairs window. Through a short conversation, the man, named Castille, turns out to be in a rough situation. Trace takes him under his wing and gives him ten gold pieces to get him back on his feet. It’s also an investment in what he hopes to be a lucrative shoe business. Shoe selling, shoe shining…nobody really knows.
Roses are Red, Bunyips are Blue
Xin-Shalast isn’t going anywhere, so it’s off to the Blue Bunyip for a pint and a conversation. The bar is…strange. even in the Naos district, there is a general feeling of uneasiness that permeates the air. Not to mention that the Half Moon Ale is served sour or sweet. Who does that? Seriously!
Despite Barnaby’s overwhelming stinginess, the bartender leads the party to one of the back rooms. Barnaby’s contact, Vestele, leans up against the wall. A weathered wooden box rests on the table in the middle of the room.
After introductions and pleasantries, Vestele explains the situation. Her research revolves around planar interactions and parallel dimensions. Over the past decade, she cultivated an entire world within a wooden box. It’s a close-copy of the ‘real world’, although some things were lost in translation so it’s not entirely the same.
However, the experimentation and research has left Vestele weak and drained. Her contact with the pocket dimension is incredibly limited. All she knows is that they’re facing some kind of drought. As is expected, Vestele feels responsible for all of the people living in this other world; if they die those souls are on her conscious.
She hands the party a magical decanter that seems to have an endless amount of water. After answering the party’s additional questions, she performs a planar binding spell to allow the party to travel back to their home world.
The box opens, showering the room in a cloud of dust. With a final breath of stale tavern air, the party steps into the box.
Dry As Dust
The party’s vision blacks out as they enter the new dimension. When they awake, they are mid-stride along an ornate granite pathway. The air is dusty and hot; they’re in Sedeq.
A man leads them around the winding hallways, eventually arriving at a magnificent set of double doors, which open into a wide chamber lavishly decorated with fine silks and expensive linens. A smooth granite dais punctuates the middle of the room, lower than the curved ring of stone benches around it.
Several figures stand in front of the benches arguing. The agitation in their voices is easily apparent. On the eastern end of the room, illuminated by a towering section of clear windows, a dark-haired woman coyly twirls her thick curls while a trio of lutungs scramble up her back. As they enter the chamber, the arguing dies down, and the members of the Fading Council resign themselves to their seats.
“Ah, yes. At last. Glad you could join us.” The monkeys leap off the woman’s back as she stands and gestures for the party to gather around the dais. With some mild chattering, the lutungs begin eating grapes and round leaves from a silver bowl at her feet.
“Eriza Piatzo. And you all,” she indicates to the party, “are here to assist the Fading Council with their little water problem. Which, in turn, will help me with my sudden overpopulation problem.”
Again, introductions are made and the party begins to gather information. As it turns out, there isn’t a drought at all. Instead, the water source in the city of Mihlaj just disappeared, leaving an entire population without life-saving water in the middle of the desert.
Here are the rumors that the Council shares with them:
- During the middle of the night there were sightings of a bright column of light that burst from the top of the cistern into the sky. This was accompanied by slight tremors that shook some of the structures closest to the cistern and partially destroyed part of the cistern’s foundation.
- The Palms of Charity have begun selling water in the bazaar. Although they’ve been around for awhile, their leader, Master Ryn Susolla, recently inherited his role. The timing is a bit suspect, and nobody knows where their supply of water is coming from.
- The Tenders of Sarenrae have been unusually quiet about the entire situation, not really commenting on what they think is going on. Instead, they’ve cloistered themselves on the cliff-side, working their farms in silence and retiring to their cave-homes at night. Clearly, they’ve reached the conclusion that Mihlaj will always be a greedy cesspool and have pleaded to Sarenrae to remove her gift from Mihlaj. They’ve even blocked off the cistern from everyone else and they’re the only ones with access.
- Djinn must be responsible. They have such arrogance and elitism, looking down upon Mihlaj from their mountaintop. With their power, it is easy to take anything they wish and hold it for ransom. Sedeq must always be on their mind and removing Mihlaj is a key step towards destabilizing the region
The party looks out across the flag-marked expanse of desert towards their destination, Mihlaj. The Zho Mountains rise up from the horizon, accentuated by a shimmering, hazy image of a city suspended above the ground.
Welcome to Mihlaj!
What happened to the water? What other things are different in this dimension? What is the best way to remove sand trapped underneath platemail?