Chains of Oppression

1. The Labor Camp

The stones are heavy and the days are long.
When you pause for a moment to catch your breath, you feel the sting of bailiff Jartheet’s whips. As a pattangan he can wield four of them at once.
“Back to work, insects!” he yells.
At the first hint of resistance, he is joined by redskulls, cursed legionnaires who are fanatically loyal to him and to Lady Pennark.
So, you bow your head and try to push another stone from the cart to the wall.
The only solace you have had these long months or years is the comradeship between your fellow prisoners. Some of you are nihteegri from nearby towns and villages, others ignisaurs or boryot from far away. There is even a xi-noq from their far-off island realm. At one time or another, there has been one of each people of Agemonia in the prison camp, toiling on the wall.
Some of you have tried to console others with talk of gods or mercy or destiny, but it has become very clear that your rulers are not strong because they are chosen by the stars or the spirits. They simply rule because they are strong, and they are strong because they rule.
Even working together, you would have no chance to take on even just one of the heavily armored redskulls. And Jartheet’s iron grip makes sure no-one escapes. It would take a miracle for you to get out.
As the moons are rising, and you struggle to pile stones on the drag, something unforeseen happens. The air tingles with lightning and magic, and a spherical portal appears behind you in the inner wall. One of your fellow prisoners is cut in half by the sphere.
A group of three xi-noq enters through the portal wielding strange weapons and powerful magic. Their black bug eyes mirror the horrors of the labor camp, but they pay no attention to the prisoner’s maimed corpse.
The redskulls attempt to stop them, but seem to suffocate before even reaching the intruders. They fall on the ground, gasping for breath.
“Back to work, insects!” cries bailiff Jartheet. “What is going on?”
At that the xi-noq prisoner, Woa, walks to him. “Who are you calling an insect?” Woa asks. “Woa will not help Lady Pennark build her nefarious machinery any longer.” Then, its powers somehow enhanced by the presence of other xi-noq, Woa hits him with a magical force that burns his face and fins.
You and the other prisoners look on in horror as bailiff Jartheet runs off screaming.
Woa looks at all of you, nods curtly, and then steps through the portal with its kin. After a brief flash the portal disappears and it is dark again. You blink, trying to regain your sight. Soon you realize their magical sphere destroyed the wall, a prisoner, and a togrel and its rider who happened to be on the other side. There is blood on the ground.
Slowly it dawns on you: The guards are nowhere to be seen and the portal has left a hole in the wall that separates the labor camp from the rest of Kyther Point. If you just step through, all of you have a chance to escape. You look at each other, pondering your next move. Clearly, this was the miracle you have been waiting for!

2. The Great Escape

Many Benemite cities are centuries or millennia old, having been built on top of structures of the Ancients. Kyther Point is not one of them. It is being built right now, with slaves and magic and workers and prisoners like yourselves.
There are no abandoned sewers to hide in, nor catacombs that lead down who knows how far, but as you run away from the work camp, you do your best to look for hiding spots. The harbor must have boats and warehouses. The construction yards are sure to have plenty of half-finished buildings to hide in. Perhaps you could even find your way out of town.
Bells are ringing in alarm because of your escape. You find temporary refuge behind a street corner as redskull troopers run past you to the work camp. Some of them make a point of it to stop ordinary townsfolk to demand money from them or to simply beat them up. None dare stand up to the redskulls.
Hiding on a roof, you spot a redskull officer giving orders to troopers. They are coming to look for you. Many of you are from somewhere else, captured for defending the people, or standing up to the Pennarks. But some of you are from Kyther Point, and manage to lead the rest through the roofs to the poor part of town where the streets are narrow and twisting. There are too many of you to comfortably fit in a cellar or a tavern, but you manage to find a secluded alley where you hope you will be safe for the night.
The notoriously cruel redskulls are maimed nihteegri whose tail has been cut in a hideous ritual where they swear unfaltering loyalty to Lord and Lady Pennark. Then they are dressed in the skull-masked scarlet helmets and armor. They never show their face to outsiders. Some say they are not living nihteegri at all, but are killed and then raised again in the ritual.
The light of the moons is reflected in their masks as they enter the alley.
Bailiff Jartheet, his face and fins burnt, cracks his whips in the air. “You’ll regret this, insects!” He nods to the officer who gives the redskulls an order to attack.
The redskulls march towards you, their poleaxes ready. They are heavily armored, you are unarmed and dressed in prisoners’ rags. This will be the shortest battle in the history of Agemonia.
You turn and run to the other end of the alley hoping some of you could still make it out alive. But towards you walks a group of colorfully shrouded figures wielding a wide array of weaponry ranging from sabers to bows, agurian mauls to ignisaur bardiches. They are the group of assassins known only as The Shroud.
Caught between the redskulls and The Shroud, you believe the battle just got even shorter. But the assassins walk past you, engaging the redskulls in battle. The crimson troopers might still be more powerful, but that is when they are attacked from behind by a different group, a ragtag band of warriors.
The redskulls, outnumbered and surrounded, flee the battle together with Bailiff Jartheet. “I will get you for this, insects!” he cries as he runs off into the small alleyways.
You are unharmed! What on Agemonia happened?
Two figures approach you. An assassin, wielding double dirks, whose beak pokes through the yellow and blue robes. The other, a scruffy looking nihteegri woman in a leather vest. They eye each other with derision.
The nihteegri outlaw is the first to speak to you. “Under the stars, any enemy of the redskulls is a friend of the Sable Crown. I am called Hinwiss the Loyal and I would welcome your companionship in our battle against tyranny. Follow us to our secret headquarters for a cup of wine and some bread.”
“Stolen crumbs,” crows the quothian assassin who is introduced as Kuolo. “If you truly wish to take on Lady Pennark, you need power far greater than these petty thieves can offer. By the world egg, with The Shroud by your side you could destroy the redskulls with ease. How about some fine drinks and a warm hall to sleep in?”
You look at each other. You are not thieves or assassins but political prisoners. Most of you have not broken any laws. At least, not any just laws. Would you ally yourselves with the likes of these?

3. The Shroud

A heavy mist rises from the shallow pools of water that lead to Durgane Bay. You confer with each other, trying to decide whether an alliance with criminals is preferable to no alliance at all. Even though opinions are starkly divided, you are determined to work together, come what may. At the end of the day, the only ones you can really trust are your fellow inmates.
That said, most of you agree you would not survive in Kyther Point alone. After an intense debate you reach a decision.
“We welcome the friendship of The Shroud,” you say to Kuolo the quothian. Before she veils her beaked face, you notice a smirk directed at Hinwiss the Loyal and the bandits of Sable Crown.
After that Kuolo disappears into the crowd of shrouded assassins. She is one of the smallest in the group, others are nihteegri sized, some as big as agurians or ignisaurs.
One of them steps forward, and from the tail and the claws you recognize him as nihteegri. A large vespir lizard follows its assassin master as he instructs you to follow.
You are taken from the small alleys of the poor quarters into a fine part of town. You assumed The Shroud would have their headquarters hidden away, but they lead you into a fancy stone house lavishly decorated with statues and windows of stained glass.

The inside of the house is equally splendorous, with heavy carpets of quothian silk, moonsilver candelabra, and several well-dressed nihteegri servants. The assassins remain shrouded even inside.
“How can you have a house right in the middle of town? Won’t the redskulls find you?” one of you asks the nihteegri with the vespir. He gives no answer.
You are taken upstairs to a common room, which is far from common. Elegant tapestries line the walls and the floors are covered with soft furs. A change of clothes and a fireplace help set a nice mood. A mood which is slightly marred by having to share the room with professional murderers who hide their faces.
The bar has something for everyone: ignisaurs are given cactus drinks, pattangans honey wine, and agurians goblets of clear water. You drink a toast to freedom. Since you escaped prison, this is the first chance you have had to catch your breath, and come up with some sort of plan.
While a strong bond unites you, many things also separate you. Some of you are noble nihteegri and accustomed to being in control here in the Republic of Benem. Others are pagans or serfs or pattangans or belong to some other less prosperous Benemite group. And many are not from Benem at all, but come from the Thalassocracy of Zheebul or even as far as the Megeian Empire.
Nor are you all of a like mind. Many sympathize with the locals and would like to use your newfound freedom to help the wretched rise up and strike against the redskulls and take vengeance on Bailiff Jartheet while you are at it. Some of them still think the Sable Crown would have made for better allies.
Others, especially those captured as foreign spies, feel it is paramount that you stop whatever massive operation Lady Pennark has been planning. They cannot say exactly what it is, but one of the most recent prisoners, a pattangan warrior, says she has knowledge about Lord Pennark’s fate. “I have seen into his very soul, and I believe his heart is rotten and his liver is full of deceit. He has had dealings with demons and he was pulled into the Breach. That’s where the demons live, and that’s a death sentence. Now is the time to strike against the Pennarks!”
“How could you possibly know all this?”
“I swear on my totem I saw it with my own eyes,” says the pattangan. “Just before the soldiers on one of Lord Pennark’s ships caught me and took me prisoner.”
Before you have a chance to continue your debate, a bell is rung. The Shroud wants your attention. Two assassins, the nihteegri with the vespir, and another one whom you think is Kuolo, take the floor. Kuolo has a letter in her hand with a broken seal.
“Heaven protect us all. The Shroud is not a charitable organization,” speaks the nihteegri, “and we have broken our truce with the Pennarks to bring you here. We understand you may not have much moonsilver on you, but we will ask for payment when the stars are right. For now, Kuolo will join your ranks, helping you in whatever you wish to do and reporting back to us. Do not think to double-cross us, for you have all drunk snakeroot tonight. The poison will kill you, even the agurians, lest you take the antidote every morning for three days. Kuolo will give it to you come dawn.”
With that the assassins depart, and you are left on your own. Poisoned! Some of you try to purge the snakeroot out of your system, others are ready to attack the hosts. In the end, all of you understand this is a part of what you bargained for.
Was it a mistake to trust the assassins? Perhaps, but on the other hand, they did promise to help you in your pursuits.
Some say you would be wiser to just flee the city come morning. That way you will have escaped both the Shroud and the redskulls. Antidote for snakeroot, crushed petal of star lotus, cannot be that hard to find.
Eventually, exhaustion takes its toll and you lay down on the soft furs. Even if your minds are full of worry, one by one you succumb to sleepless slumber.
When you wake up, you see Kuolo in the room with you. Still veiled, the quothian has a large pitcher and small cups, from which she serves the antidote. Breakfast also includes fruits, nuts, bread, cheese, tea, wine, and cakes.
“So, former prisoners,” Kuolo croaks, “what’s the plan?”

4. A Magicanism Most Mysterious

The Shroud has a vast collection of weaponry from all over Agemonia. Those of you who can wield them are given free rein of the armory. Others prepare their magic or simply reorient themselves with what is happening in the city.
Thus prepared, you devise a strategy to spy on Lady Pennark’s plans in the hope of disrupting them. You could have tried to raise the people against the redskulls or simply escaped town, but this seems like the most urgent task right now.
“Lady Pennark has a fenced area in the harbor, concealing something,” Kuolo says. “And we have good information they have a heavily guarded wagon coming to Kyther Point today. What’s in it, grandmothers only know, but I bet it will be interesting.”
Kyther Point is located on a peninsula, but the Pennarks’ fortress is on a small island in the Durgane Bay. For the wagon to get there, it would likely have to pass through the harbor.
Those of you who have been prisoners for more than a year actually built the fence around that part of the harbor. You know it is long and sturdy enough to prevent peeking through it. But from a high enough vantage point you might be able to see something.
You find a cosmographers’ spyglass in the common room, and make your way towards the harbor. There is a half-built tower next to it, covered in wooden scaffolding. Having climbed it, you get a nice view of the road leading to Kyther Point. Not long after, a wagon enters town, drawn by a huge lizard. It is heavily guarded by redskulls, mages, and flying vespirs. There are no coats of arms or other insignia on the wagon, but the redskulls are a dead giveaway that it is owned by Lady Pennark.
The strange caravan approaches the harbor and a gate is opened letting them through. The redskulls have a hard time keeping the aggressive lizard at bay. You make jokes about it being hungry enough to eat even redskulls.
Then you see Bailiff Jartheet commanding serfs or prisoners to operate a crane of sorts which is lowered into the wagon through a door in its roof. It lifts up a spiky sphere, bigger than the largest agurian, and radiating a faint glow. Some of you immediately recognize it as a magicanism of the Ancients. All of you recognize it as something very dangerous.
The magicanism is loaded onto a ship, which soon sets off towards Fort Pennark.
“Cracking Egg!” curses Kuolo. “How can we get to it in there?”
You ask if the Shroud does not have a ship.
“Sure we do, but they’ll see us coming from a mile away. And we’ve already angered the redskulls so we probably can’t even get you to the harbor. No, we need more people on our side. Magic perhaps, or guile. Or something.”
“If there are magical means of transporting or teleporting us to Fort Pennark, the Council of Eight would know about them,” speaks an elderly nihteegri who has a pagan symbol tattooed on his chest. “Felim Howell is a Warlock of the Inner Circle, and is no friend of the Pennarks.”
“Does the Council even exist anymore?” asks a melancholic agurian of red and gray stone. “I have only seen abandoned library towers as sad mementos to the power they once held. They are all but forgotten.”
“Much influence they hold not, but the warlocks in Kyther Point still know magic such that could rival the power of the Pennarks.”
“I have nothing against the Council of the Eight,” says the pattangan warrior who claims to have seen Lord Pennark disappear. She has painted her four sabers in bright colors. “But the Cult of the Fifth Eye worships the magicanisms left behind by the Ancients. Priestess Yamar must know what that was, and would surely have her ways for smuggling us into Fort Pennark.”
“No one knows to whom the priests of the Fifth Eye really owe their allegiance,” Kuolo remarks.
“That may be,” replies the mysterious pattangan, “but as a boryot, Yamar has no ties to the Pennarks!”
A gust of wind blows from the harbor and brings with it sea birds and small flying lizards who nest in the unfinished tower.
A noble nihteegri clears his throat and starts to speak in a voice used to command. “We should speak with the cosmographers. They are ever on the side of reason. I know Celestor Selenna personally, she would not stand for this.”
“As far as I understand you Benemites and your odd nocturnal customs,” speaks a self-important ignisaur with long curved horns, “these cosmographers are stargazers and physicians who serve at the pleasure of the local lord and lady. How can we be sure this Celestor is not Lady Pennark’s creature?”
“Aye, you speak the truth, but if you saw Celestor Selenna, you would know she takes orders from none but the stars.”
“Sun’s fire,” swears the ignisaur mockingly, “what did I say about your crazy interest in the night-sky.”
“Sun is only one of many stars, friend,” replies the nihteegri nobleman smiling pompously.
“Blasphemy!” The mocking tone is gone as the ignisaur rises indignantly. The other nihteegri get up to defend their compatriot. Others join the ignisaur. There is shouting and curses evoking several gods, spirits and heavenly bodies.
“Be quiet!” Kuolo hushes.
Too late.
You are discovered and a number of redskulls breach the scaffolding. They clumsily climb up in their armor. And a familiar voice cries: “Take those insects to Lady Pennark!”
Now properly armed, you manage to resist them long enough for Kuolo to show you a way out by means of various ladders and platforms. Amongst you there are politicians, diplomats, artists, cosmographers, and others who are of no use in battle, and are the first to leave. The knights, pyroblades, hunters, and spies put up some resistance to the redskulls, but no one fights as well as the pattangan. Her painted quadruple blades move in a whirlwind of death, as she jumps up, down, left, and right, dodging the clumsy blows of the redskulls’ poleaxes. It is like watching an elaborate dance.
But in the end, she, along with a few others, are captured by the redskulls. The rest of you run away from the tower construction yard, hoping to free your comrades and to strike against their captors some other day.
The harbor is full of redskulls. With Kuolo’s help, you find gutters to crawl in, but with the redskulls now on your tail, it will be difficult to get out of the harbor, let alone find an ally! But that is exactly what you must do.

5. The Miserable

The market square of Kyther Point is flanked by a Church of the Fifth Eye, the town house where Bailiff Jartheet has an office, the Amethyst Order’s chamber of commerce, town palaces of the nobility, and the Arena. Behind the Arena are the cosmographers’ observatory tower and a small library of the Council of Eight, which is your destination.
Kuolo is reluctant to go farther from the Shroud’s headquarters since the town is now crawling with redskulls who are intent on finding you. Moving is painstakingly slow and many of you lack the patience for it. Kuolo does not, at one point instructing you to lay in silence for two hours. During that time her concentration is interrupted just once, and she looks around as if waking from a dream. Then the waiting recommences, until suddenly she commands you to run fast across the street and into a cellar.
By dusk you reach the street which separates the Council of Eight’s library from the Arena. The red-and-gray agurian says he senses heavy footsteps hitting the ground in unison. He suspects it is a huge contingent of redskulls.
A row of wooden columns separates the Arena’s outer ring corridors from the street. When running to the corridors, you hear the sound of the redskulls’ boots. The columns and the shadows should conceal you a little, but if they come searching for you, you will be found. So, you rush towards the entrance of the Arena itself.
Kyther Point is famous for monster fighting, where hideous and outlandish beasts take on each other. They are kept in cages below the Arena, and you sneak downstairs before the troopers spot you.
Underground there is another circular corridor with archways to the Arena itself. The corridor apparently leads to the monsters’ pens. There are some empty pens, large wooden beams, and plenty of deep shadows to hide in, so you can observe the place in relative peace.
Each pen contains one or more monsters of various sizes. You see a scarred guivren, several fire-breathing ustrig snails, feral togrels, a variety of disgusting skitterers, and even a small demon. These are hungry and desperate creatures clearly meant for bloody battles in the Arena.
But you also see vespir lizards and many-headed benaethids that are well fed and even armored. They seem trained and in good shape. But what would the Pennarks do with an army of monsters? You can speculate, but it is difficult to know for sure.
Serfs feed and groom the monsters, and clearly many limbs have been lost in the process. The serfs are malnourished and downtrodden nihteegri and pattangans, draped in rags and with a forlorn expression in their eyes.
There are also some larger halls which are lined with pens. The stench is unbearable, but the serfs do not seem to mind. At the center of one of these halls, a strange magicanism hums and radiates an eerie sensation. It is the size of an agurian, but the glow is not the friendly light of agura crystals, but something much more menacing. It must be operated with blood crystals.
You are trying to observe the magicanism without being seen by the serfs when you hear noise in the corridor behind you.
“Did they come here? Speak, insects!” It is Bailiff Jartheet who is questioning the serfs. They say they know nothing, but he does not believe them. You hear his whips crack and a serf cringes quietly, as if he was expecting to be hit.
Then the sound of armored soldiers echoes in the corridor. Some of them are coming your way!
There is an unoccupied pen, used for storing hay and giant mushrooms. It looks large enough to hide all of you so you quickly and quietly move inside. Several vespirs and benaethids are in the pens next to you, grunting disapprovingly at you through the planks which separate the two pens.
Soon you see redskulls marching through the corridor, cursorily checking the hall for any sign of you.
They are followed by Bailiff Jartheet and a few more redskulls. The Bailiff walks much more deliberately, inspecting only very specific places. The serfs skulk out of his way, pretending to be preoccupied with their work.
Bailiff Jartheet stops one of them, a toothless nihteegri woman with a chewed tail.
“You, insect!” he says commandingly. The woman curtsies clumsily and keeps looking down. “You will look at me, insect.” She raises her eyes to meet his burnt face.
“Tell me, insect, has anyone been here? A motley band of traitors and foreign spies?”
“Nay, star.”
“Do I look like a man of noble birth to you? I was born with insects like you right here in these tunnels among these filthy creatures.”
“As you say.”
“You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?”
“Nay.”
“And you’ll send word if you see any trace of them. Plenty of redskulls will be stationed at the Arena and patrolling the streets.”
“Aye.”
“Good. Good. Should you fail so to do, I would have no choice but to activate the Punisher.” He taps the strange magicanism with one of his whips.
“Please, nay!” the woman cries. “By the stars, nay! I have children and grandchildren living in the tunnels. Please, they have done nothing to you! Do not take their life!”
“Good wife, you and your family have nothing to fear as long as you do not betray my trust. You will keep your head and tail.” Bailiff Jartheet picks a speck of dirt off the magicanism he called the Punisher, and then continues on his way. “But if you do betray me, the Punisher will kill you, no matter where you are.”
The woman breathes out and then looks around scared. She gathers the other serfs around her, men, women, and children, and instructs them to immediately report to the Bailiff if they see anyone suspicious down in the tunnels.
You wait in silence, hoping not to be noticed. The serfs take some of the large mushrooms and chop them for fodder which they feed to the hungry monsters.
Once the hall is deserted, Kuolo seems to again lose her concentration, staring into nothing for a while. When she snaps out of it, one of you, a korallian whispers silently.
“I have never trusted the Shroud so I thought it prudent to look into Kuolo’s mind.”
“You what?” asks Kuolo indignantly.
“You broke our trust when you poisoned us,” the korallian explains, his gills erect. “I have been wondering what motivates the Shroud. But now I know: they have a contract on Lady Pennark. That is why they wanted our help.”
“I thought the Shroud assassins are trained to withstand psionic attacks,” says the nihteegri nobleman.
“And we of the Shiver are trained to overcome such withstanding,” says the korallian. The Shiver are the psionic thought police employed in the underwater Thalassocracy of Zheebul, but feared all throughout Agemonia.
You remain motionless as you hear serfs approaching again. The toothless woman comes to your pen, fetching more mushrooms. You hold your breath and hope not to be seen. She picks a large mushroom and pushes it to the chopping block. Then, almost as an afterthought, she comes back into the pen. The woman pushes some hay aside, and sees a clawed foot. Then a tail. Then boots and capes.
She looks at all of you, trembling in fear.

6. The Blue Lantern of Revolution

Although your magical fortitude did not prevent you from being imprisoned, it may be enough to help you now. With a coordinated effort you direct your psionic, geomantic, pyromantic, and other magics into the Punisher.
The glass bulbs of the magicanism glow with a potent radiance, and emit a screeching sound which echoes in the cellars. The serfs fall to their knees, holding their ears. The light grows brighter until it is blinding and then dies out. You have a melancholy feeling for a moment, then it passes. It is now strangely silent.
One by one the serfs stand up. They look incredulously at the Punisher and realize there is nothing holding them there anymore. Some cheer, others run away immediately. A few of the most downtrodden try to calm the others and tell them to wait for Bailiff Jartheet. This advice is not taken.
The toothless woman turns to you. “By the stars, I thank you, gentlefolk. May I show you a way out?”
She promises to take you towards the Council of Eight’s library. You follow her out through a series of stairs to a doorway where a redskull soldier is standing.
“Halt!” he says and points his poleaxe at you.
Before you even have time to draw your weapons, he is overpowered by a group of freed serfs who trip him, disarm him, and start removing his armor piece by piece. Under the red skull mask you see the lifeless face that must have once belonged to a nihteegri. Lifeless but yet able to cry in anger through some evil magic of the Pennarks.
Once you are out on the street, the woman thanks you once again, and asks for the stars to protect you. She then grabs the redskull’s poleaxe and runs off to meet some pattangan porters further along the street.
“Arise, fellows! There are a hundred of us to every redskull. It is time we stopped taking orders from them! Let us light the blue lantern of revolution!”
The porters are suspicious at first, but seeing the beaten redskull trooper, they ask what they can do to help. The woman and the porters push their wagon to the crossing to form a barricade.
You hear cries of freedom and rebellion from the streets all around as you approach the library.
“Before you knock on that door,” crows Kuolo, the assassin of the Shroud, “I ask you not to divulge my affiliation.” She pulls down her shroud and packs all her silk veils in a small bag. She looks like any quothian merchant, her feathers black, but with white paint around her large eyes. “I promise, I have no contract on the warlocks of the Council.”
You agree to keep her secret and then knock on the door. A young pattangan maiden opens the door, and asks for your business. You ask to speak to Felim Howell, Warlock of the Inner Circle. She closes the door again and you are left to wait outside.
Around you, torches are lit and barricades built. Further off, there is the clash of metal on metal, probably redskulls trying to subdue the rebelling serfs.
Soon, the door is opened again, and the pattangan apprentice leads you inside. Flanking her are two large stone creatures, each with a bright crystal as an eye. They are much larger than agurians and are clearly mindless magicanisms.
You step into the hallway and feel the tingling sensation of magic all around you. It would clearly not be wise to try any funny stuff in here.
The maiden leads you into one of the library rooms where there are chairs, fruit, nuts, and water with herbs. Having spent most of the day on the run, you dig right in.
“Is there any wine?” asks one of you.
“We abstain from intoxicants of all kinds,” the maiden says, “and animal products, too. It helps the mind stay clear.”
You ask where Felim Howell is. The apprentice smiles mysteriously as the golems close the doors behind you. Then you realize the maiden does not have four hands but two. She is not a maiden at all but a handsome nihteegri man holding a chain of circles. Was she Felim Howell all along?
“So, you are the political prisoners who escaped,” he says. “I’m surprised you haven’t left town yet.”
You tell him what you saw of the magicanism in the harbor.
“That is alarming news. Describe it to me. The crystals in the magicanism, what color were they?” he asks.
You tell him they were crimson.
He nods. “Blood crystal. It must be a cursed Sphere of Restoration, a rare device of the Ancients. It’s supposed to have a very wide range, if activated. But what horrors it could cause if laden with blood crystals…”
The red-and-gray agurian speaks. “But why would Lady Pennark want such a magicanism inside Fort Pennark?”
“Because the fortress is built on the island which once housed a teleporter of the Ancients.”
“This is true,” agrees the korallian spy.
“Then she could send it to almost any old city in Agemonia and destroy it!” Kuolo says. It is difficult to know whether her voice contains fear or admiration.
“Or, at least destroy the inhabitants. The buildings would likely remain,” Felim Howell says. “I take it you want to leave for Fort Pennark at first light?”
You look at each other. It is not the most cautious plan, but for all you know, Lady Pennark could have targeted the home town of any one of you, and some of your fellows are likely imprisoned inside the fortress, and you owe them a debt of gratitude.
That night you sleep in the library. Outside, you hear the cries and songs of revolution. By the sound of it, the Sable Crown has joined the serfs you liberated, providing them with weapons, tactics, and magic.
As you break your fast, Kuolo again provides you with the antidote to the Shroud’s poison. In the window you can see unusual blue lanterns hitched to several flag posts and towers.
Felim Howell takes you to the first floor where there is a ritual space with several warlocks of various circles waiting for you. Candles are lit, agura crystals placed on pedestals, and runes drawn on the floor with chalk. The pattangan apprentice you saw earlier is here, holding a veiled object on a moonsilver tray.
“There is no teleporter in Kyther Point,” Felim Howell says. “But we can take you away from Agemonia and into the Breach. There we can move undetected and take the Pennarks by surprise.”
Many of you have your doubts. You have heard stories of the Breach, its demons, and of evil Aox magic.
“Surely it is a dangerous place,” says Kuolo.
“It is, indeed,” Howell admits, “but the danger we face will not be from the Pennarks. This is the best way to get there.”
You have no better ideas, so you go and stand inside the ritual circle. The warlocks start chanting and the light of the candles turns bright green. A pungent smell fills the room. Howell asks for the apprentice to bring him the Cube of Breaching. She hands him the tray and he unveils a magical cube which looks like a small cage holding something horrible inside. He carefully picks it up with both hands.
The chanting continues and the green flames of the candles are drawn to the cube. You stare at it, and the room feels more distant and unimportant. It is hard to stand on the floor because of the wind. Wait, what wind? You look around you, and you realize the floor is a large floating rock, and you are not inside the library anymore.
There are strange floating rocks, magical aurora, and odd tentacled creatures slowly floating through the heavy air. The smell is outlandish but not unpleasant, reminding you of dreams long forgotten. This must be the Breach!
“It’s like being underwater, but different,” gasps the korallian spy.
“I always wanted to know what it’s like,” Kuolo says in awe.
“I do not like it,” the agurian says. “Aox lives here.”
Felim Howell is still holding the cube, which seems to be melting in his hands, dissolving into the strange currents of the Breach.
The rock is large enough for all of you to stand on, but it swings unpredictably like a leaf on water. At the same time, it is moving steadily in a particular direction.
“What is moving this rock?” asks the agurian geomancer.
“I am,” the warlock replies curtly. He is intensely concentrated.
Once you get used to breathing the heavy air of the Breach and learn how to keep your balance on the rock, you have time to admire the sights. It seems as if you can see much farther than in Agemonia. Indeed, there are incredibly distant shadows of cities, floating crystal shapes, colorful tornadoes, and strange creatures of all shapes and sizes. This is a new experience for all of you!
Near the horizon behind you, there is a sea, and inside it, a golden circle. Someone comments that it looks a bit like the eponymous Amber Gate in Ambergate.
“Aye,” replies Felim Howell who is now slightly more relaxed and looking in wonder at the Breach. “Archaic texts say it exists in both dimensions at the same time. There are none who know how that is possible. We are going there…”
The warlock nods towards a stone ear which is rotating around itself. It should not take you more than ten minutes to reach it. Howell explains that Fort Pennark is located roughly on the other side of the rotating ear.
You observe a flock of reddish birds flying toward you. As they get closer, you realize they have leather wings. Might they be vespirs? Or guivrens? Or…
“Demons!”
Indeed, they are large and twisted creatures of Aox, with mismatched arms and spiky tails. Some of them are already shooting at you with magical bolts. A few of you try to protect the others with shields, or even just their own bodies, while others shoot back at the demons with bows or magic of their own.
The demons are getting closer all the time. Felim Howell tells you that all of his concentration is taken up by guiding the rock and operating the cube. He cannot help you in the combat.
You fight bravely, and kill some of the smaller demons. Swarms of even smaller Aox creatures immediately start devouring their floating corpses. A large lusar demon reaches your flying rock. The rock shakes, and Felim Howell loses his balance. He would have fallen had one of you not managed to grab his cape.
Instead, acting together, you grab the lusar and throw it off. But more are coming, and the operation is too delicate for this disturbance. You do not want to fall off the rock and spend the rest of your days floating in the Breach.
“We must return to Agemonia! Immediately!” you cry to Felim Howell.
He looks around nervously and then nods in agreement. The green flames seem to consume the cube entirely, and soon you realize you are in Agemonia again. Only you are not standing on anything, you are falling down.
You hit the sea near Fort Pennark. It is not too far to swim to the island, but Kyther Point is far behind you. The agurians are too heavy to float, but the korallians support them.
While swimming, you see a Pennark ship full of redskulls taking reinforcements into town. Bad news for the rebels, but good news for you. That means there will be less soldiers in the fortress.
The cliffs are tall and the waves are violent, but with skill and magic you manage to reach the shore. Now all you have to do is enter the keep, and stop Lady Pennark from teleporting the magicanism. But how?

7. Lady Pennark’s Plans

Two or three centuries ago, Benem was divided into three queendoms. The Pennark Empire and the two others were allied with the pagan priesthood and ruled over their lands with an iron grip. This led to the War of Liberation where liberal noble houses, the rising order of cosmographers, and the common people lit the blue lanterns of revolution and rose against their three queens.
The bloody civil war took a decisive turn when the Council of Eight chose the side of the rebels. Cities changed rulers, entire noble houses were slain, serfs were granted more rights, and large temples were converted into trade palaces.
Thus began the Republic of Benem, which is ruled by the Arch-Magus and the electoral college, and where the scholarly cosmographers have taken the place of the priestesses of the old religion.
Life is better for the serfs and the commoners, except here in Kyther Point, which is still ruled by the ruthless Pennarks.
Inside her keep, Lady Pennark continues her age-old war against Arch-Magus Hinwiss Highweld and Lady Selenna Bryndelion. Outside the keep, hiding behind the wet rocks on the shore, you raise blue lanterns and then bide your time.
You see serfs and servants come to the shore to look at the lanterns. One of them tries to lower it, while others start to argue with him. A fight breaks out, and the lantern stays up.
Later, you hear revolutionary songs from inside the walls of Fort Pennark. A blue lantern is hung from one of the windows directly above you. Then you hear sounds of fighting and the singing stops.
You realize that if you want to to penetrate the fortress, it is now or never. There are sewers and maintenance tunnels under the keep, and you have already examined enough of the area to know where to find entrances to them. Where they lead to, you do not know.
You enter a wide sewer and follow it to reach a gated door. Kuolo deftly picks the lock and you follow her inside before climbing up a ladder to reach the prison’s dungeon. There are torture chambers and pens for monsters, but also cages for prisoners. Perhaps this is a chance to free your fellow prisoners, too!
Blue light shines from the end of one of the corridors. Clearly the prisoners have also joined in the revolution! You rush over and see two of the cages have indeed been broken open from the inside. Next to them lie the corpses of your fellows, killed by the redskulls’ poleaxes. One pattangan has bled to death from several wounds, her four painted blades now dyed with blood.
“This pattangan was a mean warrior,” Kuolo speaks dismally. “Now she has joined those that came before us.”
“Her name was Suriyen,” says the agurian solemnly. “She confided in me she was a part of a secret order who are dedicated to fighting demons. May she be remembered.”
Each of you quickly performs your own ritual to honor your dead comrades. Now you must make sure they did not die in vain.
You climb the stairs and try to find your way towards the horrible magicanism. Felim Howell and some other magic-users in your group can sense its rough direction.
At one point a group of redskulls spot you and try to stop you, but a bunch of serfs attack them from behind, and the redskulls turn their backs on you. As they start to butcher the serfs, you rush in and kill them. You manage to heal the wounds of the only surviving serf before she runs away.
The keep is huge, but eventually you find a large dark chamber from where the feeling of magic emanates. You see a teleporter of Ancient design, and next to it, a huge spherical magicanism which glows with crimson light.
The teleporter is activated, and shows a doorway to somewhere else, but you see no sign of any warlock or demonologist. Did they, too, rebel against the redskulls? Or were they killed or driven out by the rebels?
“This teleporter is targeted for Runedale,” gasps Felim Howell. “If the magicanism goes off, everyone in the city will die! Why would the Pennarks do such a thing?”
“To bring back the Pennark Empire, of course.” The voice which speaks is powerful and alluring. Magical agura lights illuminate the chamber. You turn around to see a black-clad nihteegri noblewoman sitting on her throne, petting a lugat demon. You have found Lady Pennark!
Kuolo takes a step toward her, no doubt planning to assassinate her right there. She is stopped in her tracks by redskulls and three-headed benaethids who run between you and Lady Pennark.
“This is madness,” cries Felim Howell. “Every living thing in Runedale would die!”
“That is a price I and Lord Amon are willing to pay,” replies Lady Pennark gloating.
“Too bad Lord Amon is missing,” says the long-horned ignisaur, remembering well what Suriyen told you.
“Silence, foreigner!” Lady Pennark shouts. “Speak not of things you don’t understand!”
“We must shut down the teleporter,” whispers Felim Howell. “She is a powerful magus, but together we must be even more powerful.”
“No,” Kuolo whispers back, still looking intently at Lady Pennark. “We came here to kill her. Let’s finish the job.”
“So, you are from the Shroud,” says Howell to Kuolo. “I thought as much.”
You have already spent so much of your magical power that you cannot do both of these things. If you deactivate the teleporter, Lady Pennark and her troops will surely attack. And if you kill her, the magicanism will be sent to Runedale. Who knows when it will go off, killing all those people?
The redskulls and the benaethids march towards you.

8. The Struggle For Liberty

You concentrate your remaining magical energies on the teleporter. Ridding the world of Lady Pennark would certainly do some good, but you cannot risk the annihilation of all life in Runedale.
Runedale, a pyramid in Kruesol, the Moving City, Copperton, an underwater city, the enchanted treetops of Heartwood… Remote locations flash by faster and faster in the teleporter. Soon it’s just a blur of colors which turns into a bright light and the smell of burnt hair.
Then the teleporter sighs and collapses in on itself. You have broken it, permanently.
Meanwhile, the warriors, knights, pyroblades, and hunters in your group try to protect the magic-users from the redskulls and the benaethid. But every time you strike one of the monster’s heads off, two more grow in its place. It devours many of your brave fellows.
The destruction of the teleporter distracts the redskulls long enough for Kuolo to sneak around them. With a dagger in hand, she lunges at the unarmored Lady Pennark, but Lady Pennark spots her just in time, and points her palms towards the quothian assassin. A warm wave passes through the entire chamber, and a pile of ashes falls on the ground. Kuolo is dead.
The redskulls advance and start killing you one by one. Clearly Lady Pennark’s presence somehow strengthens these half-living warriors.
Having spent your magical energy to destroy the teleporter, you are heavily outmatched. You withdraw into a dark doorway that you hope will take you out of the fortress. The redskulls are sure of their victory as they chase after you.
Fortunately, some of the rebelling serfs are still alive, and direct your small band of survivors into the narrow servants’ staircases. The redskulls try to follow you, but are too bulky to keep up the pace.
The night is nearly over as you shamble out onto the slippery rocks near Fort Pennark’s foggy harbor. The serfs and their children join you in stealing a boat, which some of you can sail. Soon, the fog engulfs the fortress and the island, although you still hear the angry shouts of the redskulls.
You are exhausted, and many nod off in the boat. The escaped serfs share what little bread and wine they managed to steal. Some tend to their wounds, others lament the many dead you left behind.
You have not made plans for the future, but realize you must return to Kyther Point one last time: The Shroud must give you the third dose of the antidote for the poison.
Through the mist you see a four-oared pattangan boat going in the opposite direction. In the strange light of the setting moons filtering through the fog, it is difficult to see the rower properly. Have his dorsal fins been burned? Is it possible this is Bailiff Jartheet, fleeing town? Eventually the mist obscures him, and his destination remains a mystery.
You reach Kyther Point’s harbor and see blue lanterns raised into many a tower, flagpole, and spire. There seems to be a lull in the fighting, or perhaps the revolution is already over? Corpses line the streets and barricades make approach difficult.
The serfs you took with you from the island fortress thank you for everything and go to find rebels to join.
“The Pennark grasp on Kyther Point has loosened and the stars may be right for us to create a new government,” speaks Felim Howell. “Join me in the library, and we will rule the city with wisdom, ever protecting the common folk from tyranny, violence, and their own weaknesses.”
The wounded nihteegri nobleman thanks the warlock. “On this day under Heaven all-seeing, I would join your government. Rule themselves the common folk cannot. But we will confer come dawn, and decide together. Heaven protect, Warlock Felim.”
“Heaven protect you all,” says Felim Howell as he departs for the library of the Council of Eight.
You make your way to the Shroud’s headquarters, where you are welcomed by their leader, the shrouded nihteegri with the vespir pet. He then offers you good food and fine drinks. This time you are wise enough to refuse, even if you are hungry. After you have told him of what happened in Fort Pennark, he gives you the final dose of the antidote.
“I thank my stars you have survived to fight another day,” he says. “I am glad you joined us in fighting Lady Pennark. Even though she lives, she has left Kyther Point an empty goblet. But will it be filled with sweet wine or dirty water?”
“Or poison?” asks the red-and-gray agurian.
“Aye. Now you must join us in protecting the city from those who would conquer it for their own ends. There are riches here beyond what you can imagine, and you will be paid royally.”
“And where do we come in?” asks the korallian psionic spy.
“You would act as a liaison to the Thalassocracy. You, ignisaur, to the Megeian Empire. You, agurian, to your people. The nihteegri to the surrounding noble houses. What say you?”
“As Bekora is my witness, I will stand with you,” the korallian says. Then he turns to the rest of you. “I have read his mind, he speaks the truth.”
You promise to come up with an answer in an hour. Before that you want to see the city in the light of dawn.
The streets are not as desolate as you thought. Rebels and redskulls both control sections of the city. The mood is heavy with anticipation, as if the final confrontation is just about to happen.
You are let through a barricade into a rebel controlled street.
In a plaza, chains are attached to a large statue of Lady Pennark, and the rebels are whipping togrels to tear it down. It hits the ground with a crash and there is much rejoicing. The mood is exhilarating as flags are waved and songs sung. You also see warlocks and shrouded figures in the crowd. But behind the barricades you can hear the approaching footsteps of the redskulls and the monsters they control.
Hinwiss the Loyal spots you, and approaches you again.
“Three nights ago we helped you fight the redskulls. Will you fight with us on this day to give a voice to the silent and food for the hungry?”
“Do not mistake us for your wretched supporters,” the nobleman says. “You can barely govern yourselves, let alone a city.”
“Come now, friend,” the agurian replies, “I have not forgotten the help they gave us. I say we help them.”
“Burning Sun!” curses the ignisaur with the long, curved horns, “This is not our fight! We are foreigners in this land. Let the nihteegri settle their own matters. Our families and slaves and gods need us in our homelands. Let’s depart and be done with this shaded city.”
You are about to start debating the matter when you hear the crashing sounds of the redskulls bashing through the barricade with their monsters. You, few and weakened as you are, may be enough to swing the balance against the redskulls. But you must make up your mind fast!

9. Epilog

Swords and bardiches clash against shovels and axes as you help the citizens of Kyther Point fight for the control of their city. The Shroud, the Council of Eight, and the Sable Crown all fight the Pennark oppressors together, but when the enemy is gone, there is a risk they will turn against each other. That is when you make up your mind and go to speak to Hinwiss the Loyal. You tell him that he needs to let the people rule themselves.
Mere hours later, the Monster Arena’s seating area is packed full of people. Serfs, freed prisoners, peasants, fisherfolk, brigands, merchants, priests of the Fifth Eye, cosmographers, nihteegri, pattangans, korallians, and you.
At the center of the Monster Arena stands Hinwiss the Loyal with a pagan priestess and some commoners you are not familiar with.
“On this day, Kyther Point will suffer the yoke of the Pennarks no longer,” she speaks, her voice magically amplified. The crowd cheers. “Nor will we be ruled by any noble house.” More cheering, but not from everybody, you notice.
“We will form a People’s Assembly to govern the city. Every fifty citizens will get a representative in the assembly.”
The toothless woman from the monster pits stands up. “What about the serfs? We don’t have citizenship.”
“On that matter, all serfs are now free citizens of Kyther Point! A stipend will be granted to allow you to find homes and jobs for yourselves.”
A wealthy noblewoman hits the floor with her cane. “What about their masters? Should we not be compensated for this loss?” Some cheer for her, mainly the nobility, the merchants, and the estate owners.
“You may elect your own representative in the People’s Assembly, and bring it up there,” Hinwiss replies.
“Aye, trust your stars,” someone yells, and there is laughter in the crowd. The rich and the nobility are a small minority in Kyther Point, and clearly no longer in control. Many of them angrily leave the arena, followed by their retainers and entourages.
The sky is clouded but the day is warm. The meeting is often disrupted by laughter, yelling, angry disputes, drunken singing, and once, by a one-headed benaethid pup escaping its pen and running amok in the Arena.
Other issues are raised. Korallian and pattangan citizens are granted rights equal to the nihteegri. The wretched are relieved of taxes, but new taxes are introduced for the wealthy. Religious freedom is declared, which makes the pagans and the priests of the Fifth Eye satisfied, but the cosmographers frown upon allowing what they consider dangerous superstitions.
When the Shroud is declared illegal and their house confiscated, no one leaves. But you know for a fact that there are assassins among the people, following the proceedings. But they are unveiled, so they are impossible to recognize, and cannot risk open protest. In their hearts they must have also abandoned the People’s Assembly.
Hinwiss then declares the Shroud’s former headquarters will be turned into a temple of the goddesses: “On this day under Heaven all-seeing, will Lanimora once more be openly worshiped in Benem!”
A few cheer at this, many are indifferent. Most Benemites have forgotten their old goddesses and combined a trust in science with a vague belief in the power of the stars.
The afternoon has gone on for a while and the people grow restless and hungry. Some open their bread baskets, others go home to eat. Besides, there are still children and animals to feed, crops to tend, boats to mend, and a thousand other things that occupy the lives of the common folk.
You stay until the end. During recesses you discuss who will stand for the People’s Assembly, assisting them with your wisdom and experience, and who will journey home to act as liaisons in your hometowns. Some might lead the brigades that protect the city from redskulls and rogue knights.
Dealing with the nobles of the Republic of Benem’s electoral college will require diplomatic maneuvering far above Hinwiss the Loyal’s abilities. Even if the Pennarks were not universally loved, the nobles will not take the rebellion lightly. And who knows what pact Lord Pennark made with the demons?
As dusk is falling and even the most diligent delegates are packing their bags, a merchant clad in the purple-and-gray robes of the Amethyst Order steps forth.
“Heaven protect this city,” the merchant says. “The Amethyst Order would like to offer its help on two occasions. The monsters in the pens underneath us are no longer needed here. And you need plenty of gold stars to rebuild the city and pay for a standing army. We offer to buy all the monsters, and arrange for their secure transport out of the city. For this, we will grant the People’s Assembly one hundred thousand gold stars, to be used at their discretion.”
This proposition is new and exciting, it almost sounds too good to be true. After a brief consultation with the diminishing crowd, Hinwiss accepts it.
You are curious as to what a commercial organization means to do with an army of monsters, but their representative remains vague. Clearly, they see a profit in this.
The two moons rise over Kyther Point, and the meeting is finally over.
You have secured not only your own freedom, but the freedom of thousands of others as well.
Together, you walk the pacified and more or less cleaned up streets of the city, enjoying some mediocre nihteegri wine and a cool breeze. Unwittingly, your steps take you to where you spent all those years in chains. You step in through the hole in the wall and look at the broken chains and the abandoned tools which carry the memory of your imprisonment.
“Back to work, insects!” the agurian speaks in a surprisingly accurate impression of Bailiff Jartheet.
Some of you chuckle at that at first, but the laughter does not die down. It turns into wistful guffaws and then almost hysterical howling at the absurdity of life.
The sounds of your laughter fill the stone walls, dark streets, construction yards and ruined townhouses of Kyther Point. To think that tomorrow this could be a blossoming republic, or again, the seat of ruthless oppression. And what delicate choices and chances can change that.
The heavy weight of the stones is no longer your burden, but the days will still be long.

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