shading it in hues of things to come…
Solaruun peered deep into the reflecting pool of his top floor observatory. The pool of tranquil water was illuminated by a beam of light that was cast down like a mighty pillar from the strange contraption that whirred over head.
The device was a polished brass network of strange arms that held in them several lenses. Each lens moved independantly to align with the moonlight that peeked in to the dusty attic observatory. Each beam of moonlight seemed to grow in intensity with each lens that it passed though. Each perfectly polished lens shimmered as the light was focused through it. The light bent through the network of concave and convex discs, gradually focusing in the center of the reflecting pool.
The water began to shimmer, the lenses cast down a series of dots representing each of the visable moons in the sky. Solaruun’s aged fingers quickly guided a piece of graphite across a page, taking down measurements and flinging minute pieces of graphite on the page creating a starry pattern of black dots on the pages surface.
After several minutes of taking down notes on the arrangement of the lunar reflections, in the pool he rubbed his balding head with his hand, leaving a black smudge of graphite across his head. After a heavy sigh, Solaruun folded the sheet of parchment in half and tucked it in his belt. He moved to two heavy switches that he proceeded to flip in to their off position. The gears of the Occularum slowed and finally came to a halt. With the noise of the machine silenced, the sounds of the jungle outside crept in.
Solaruun clamored down the hatch way leading back in to his home. The short climb down left the old man winded and beaded with sweat. A large drop rolled down his forehead, streaking the smudge of graphite down the side of his face. Using his sleeve he proceeded to smear it further across his head. Even after the several months he had been in Xen’Drik, he had not yet adjusted to the unbearable heat that even permeated the deepest nights. The occasional rain gave temporary respite from the heat but, only meant that the morning would be hot and thick with humidity.
At his breakfast nook he took the notes from his pocket and placed them on the table. His table was covered with books stacked upon books. Some were opened to marked pages, others were filled with sheets of loose parchment through out. These were just the beginning of the dusty array of tomes that filled the whole of Solaruun’s ground floor. Tapestries, leather scroll cases, marble slabs with strange glyphs, and ancient looking maps were littered through out the mass of books. Solaruun found a small stack of books and begin to reference a series of charts. After some time he looked up, closed the books and got up to collect five sheets of parchment, a fresh quill, and an inkwell. He began to address the first of five letters that he would write that evening, five letters that would change the course of their recipients lives forever…
After an exhausting, yet lucrative, expedition to Xen’drik, the group returns to Sharn to settle some affairs before setting out on their next series of jumps. The group has now witnessed first hand the dire effects that their meddling across the plains can cause. They have had a lot to reflect upon as they try to make sense of what correlations let to the changes they brought about to this new “narrative”.
Their return to Stormreach revealed a whole new city. Order imposed via some strange form of sonic or psionic noise issued from the so-called “Reachforged”. These new machinations are strange abominations that are similar to warforged but lack any semblance of free will or personality. They are rather, a sort of hive-mind output of a foreboding machine controlled by none other than Stormlord Omaren.
Omaren has changed quite a bit in this new “narrative” of reality. She still has a penchant for causing the group trouble though. Before setting out on their jungle journey, Omaren had captured the party and removed a piece of Shim’s machinery. She now holds this piece hostage to ensure her place on the next jump. Glorian and Frost have thoughts about how they can help to deal with her before their exit into the multi-verse. They have already conspired with their respective contacts to form the foundations of a two prong attack on Omaren’s industrial complex.
For now though, those thoughts of the chaos south of Sharn are distant. The promise of collecting a handsome bounty from their haul has the group licking their lips in anticipation of their biggest payday to date. Any lingering doubts each individual had about the groups ability to function as a force are slowly beginning to fade.
There is much to accomplish before they return to the Occularum. Collecting their bounty from Vundry is priority but Frost still has business in Moonwatch. The knowledge of his uncle’s journey to Moonwatch has raised his suspicions and his blood lust.
Then there is the meeting with the Metatron. The thought of entering into Flamekeep proper does not sit well with any of the party. The hope of gaining some answers and guidance on how to accomplish their monumental goal requires that they enter into the keep to speak with The Keeper of the Flame.
Two Stories Intertwined…
Selenaphobia is just one part of a concurrent campaign. Its matching half is called Demand of Supply. Demand of Supply is an Evil themed campaign in which we formed a troupe of Villans for our world. Selenaphobia focuses on a group of generally good heroes working to obliquely oppose the villainy of the evil group.