Session 14

The angelic red-haired woman, with the missing wing and prosthetic leg, leaned against the rail of the broken ship. She picked at her fingernails while waiting for the Succulent Juices to emerge from Ebyn’s magically created shelter.

Seknafret stepped out first. "Are you the captain?" she said.

“I am,” the woman said. “Indra Malayuri, Captain of the Lambent Zenith. Who are you?”

“Seknafret,” she replied. “My companions and I are members of the Neverwinter City Watch, we travelled through a portal up above and saw your wreck down here and thought we might be able to lend a hand."

Ebyn emerged next, still wincing from partly healed injuries. “I am Ebyn, and this is Brabara, and Xalen,” the mage said as the magical shelter vanished around them. "We are on a mission of the gravest import to the multiverse.”

Indra’s eyes narrowed and she glanced between Ebyn and Seknafret. “So, which is it? A mission of grave importance or here to lend my stricken vessel a hand.”

Brabara shrugged. “Why not both?”

Indra snorted. “I know you haven’t come from that cursed tentacle ship, or I’d have called my crew across to eject you. So please, at least do me the courtesy of speaking plainly.”

Seknafret looked to Ebyn and motioned for him to explain.

“We came here seeking an artifact,” Ebyn began. “Well, a piece of one anyway. All we had was a location. We never expected to find you or your ship but now we have, we’d like to render aid to you and your crew."

“And the artifact you seek?” Indra asked. “What is it?”

“It is one of seven parts that combine to form an item once called the Rod of Law,” Ebyn said.

Indra nodded. “I have heard of it. Tell me, Ebyn, why do you seek such a thing?”

Ebyn’s tone grew serious. “The lich-god, Vecna, is enacting a terrible ritual, intent on remaking the multiverse, The Rod of Law is needed to stop him. Without it, everyone and everything will suffer a terrible fate.”

“A noble quest,” Indra said. “I will help you if I can. The artifact you seek has been fused to my ship’s spelljamming helm. Given the Zenith’s current state, I very much doubt I will have need of it again.”

“What’s a spelljamming helm?” Brabara asked. “Is it something you wear on your head?”

Indra chuckled. “No, not that kind of helm. It’s a kind of chair which I use to pilot the ship.”

“Where can we find it?” Ebyn asked.

“Below decks, here,” Indra said. “But the way is blocked. We will need to disable a number of protections before you can reach it.”

Ebyn nodded. “Yes, I read about those in your journal. Ingenious.”

“You have my journal?” Indra said. “How did you happen to come by that?”

Ebyn’s face reddened, as though he’d been caught with his pants down. “I … that is to say … we … ah … found it…”

“We found it in your study in the middle section of the wreck,” Xalen said over Ebyn’s sudden inability to speak. “We rescued the dog, Ikasa from some brain beaks and came across your journal as we searched the area for the rod.”

Indra blinked. “Did you say dog?”

Xalen nodded. “That’s right, he was being sheltered by Redbud, the treant. We drove the monsters away and got the dog out.”

“A treant, was protecting a dog from a pack of grell?” Indra said, her eyebrows arched.

“If grell is your name for those floating brains with tentacles and beaks, then yes,” Xalen confirmed.

Indra let out a long breath. “There have clearly been some developments during my absence.”

Seknafret shrugged. “Your first mate, Ilren, did say you’d been gone a while.”

"Ilren?" Indra's eyes widened. "I have no first mate with that name. Figaro has been my loyal and dear companion for many seasons. I have no idea who this, Ilren, is."

"Then you may have some bigger problems," Ebyn said, having regained his composure. "We met a good number of your crew, and they all referred to Ilren as the First Mate. In fact, we were told that Figaro was confined to quarters, on your orders."

"This is concerning," Indra said. "Can you tell me the names of the ones you have met?"

Ebyn listed the crew members they’d spoken to and described those he had no names for. 

"Those are my people," she said. "All except Ilren. I have clearly spent far too long out here trying to fix my wing. In the meantime, someone, or something, has come along to try and usurp my crew."

"Maybe we can help you fix it?" Seknafret offered.

Indra nodded. “It’s possible. Did you happen to find a vial of purple liquid alongside my Journal?”

“We did,” Xalen said and fished around one of his belt pouches to take it out. “Is this what you mean?”

Indra smiled, brightening the moment like sunlight breaking through clouds. “Yes, excellent. Follow me to the workshop. I will explain the specifics, but I’ll need your help to reach the necessary attachments on my back, and to apply that bonding agent."

The captain led the party below decks to a workshop. A large table stood at the centre of the room, atop which sat an intricate yet impressive looking prosthetic wing. 

"Why do you need this wing?" Ebyn queried. "We can fly with only our minds in the Astral Plane."

"That is true," Indra said. "But I've lived a very long life with two wings at my back, and without them both, I feel ... unbalanced. Somehow, incomplete. I hope you understand."

Ebyn nodded and bent to examine the marvel of artifice before him. With Indra's guidance, Ebyn's keen mind, and Xalen's nimble fingers, the three of them were able to repair and attach the prosthetic wing.

Once done, Indra stepped back and flared her wings to test their handiwork.

Ebyn felt a catch in his throat. Even with the mis-matched wings and prosthetic leg, never had he seen such a beautiful being.

"Thank you for this," Indra said, her face beaming. "Now, let's go save my crew."

"And the rod piece?" Ebyn stammered, still not fully free of the effect of Indra's beauty.

Indra turned to look at him. "You can have it. Help me save my crew and you can do whatever you want with it." She shook her head sadly. "In truth, it's been nothing but trouble lately."

Indra turned and began striding up the stairs.

"Just one more thing before we go," Ebyn said, causing Indra to pause partway up. "We've, that is to say, I’ve, taken quite a beating. Perhaps it would be prudent if we held off a time…" 

Brabara scoffed. "Here we go."

"…and I can cast some auguries before we rest up in preparation of the next challenge," Ebyn's voice cracked at the end, half cursing himself for even suggesting it.

Indra looked back and took note of Ebyn's injuries, the fire in her eyes dimming somewhat. "I suppose we can wait, if we must. You said they all seemed safe, a few more hours hopefully won't change anything."

Ebyn smiled weakly. "Thank you, I find preparation to be of the utmost importance before any risky venture."

"Screw that," Brabara said, hands clenched into fists. "Indra's crew are at risk, and you want to take a nap?"

"Technically," Ebyn began. "I don't actually sleep; it's more of a trance."

Brabara rolled her eyes. "Sleep, trance, what's the difference? It just means we all sit here twiddling our thumbs while we wait for you to grow some balls. We're supposed to be heroes - saving the multiverse and all that, remember? Well, we can start by saving a small handful of people first."

Ebyn looked to the others, Indra included, and he could see that they all shared Brabara's eagerness to proceed. "You're correct. In this particular case urgency might be prudent."

The group, with Indra out front, took flight from the ship's prow.

They kept low as they flew. Gliding only a few dozen yards above the dying god's rotting body, hoping to avoid the numerous predators that used the clouds for cover. Fortune favoured them and they made the flight without incident.

They spotted Ilren standing on the upper deck at the rear of the ship, spyglass trained on them as they approached. His wide mouth curled into a snarl as he saw Indra among them. Ilren snapped the spyglass closed and tucked it under his coat with one hand while retrieving another item - a whistle perhaps - from the bag at his side with the other.

He placed the whistle against his lips and blew.

If indeed it was a whistle, there was no sound to be heard, but Ilren seemed satisfied as he calmly replaced the item in the satchel, then stood at relaxed attention, arms crossed behind his back, waiting.

"Who are you?" Indra demanded as she landed on the deck, close to the seemingly unconcerned giff. "And what have you done with my crew?" 

"Captain," Ilren said with a smile. "It’s good to see you're alive. I worried you’d fallen prey to the many dangers of this place."

Indra's jaw clenched. "Your familiarity offends me, giff. As far as I can recall, you and I have never met."

The loud conversation drew the attention of Lysan and Zastra, the two Githyanki crewmembers the Juices had first met. The pair climbed the stairs and looked on as Indra and Ilren spoke, their confusion apparent in the way they scratched their heads.

Ebyn, who floated some distance away, listened in, taking note of the way Lysan and Zastra were behaving. “This isn’t right,” he muttered, floating close enough to bring the pair in range of his magic.

Ebyn touched the weave, plucking at its arcane threads to try and undo whatever effect was upon them. His spell washed over Zastra, cleansing her. He watched closely for any reaction, yet her demeanour didn’t change.

“Damn it,” he said and flew back up beside Xalen.

“What’s wrong,” Xalen said, seeing Ebyn’s frustrated expression.

“I believe the crew have been ensorcelled somehow,” he replied. “I attempted to dispel the effect on Zastra to no avail. Be wary, there are powerful magics at play here.”

"Captain," Ilren said with a smile and spread his arms wide. "I fear that these newcomers have misled you. Lysan and Zastra will both vouch for me, as will Kycera, and anyone in the crew. Why trust these ne'er-do-wells over your own crew?" 

Indra considered this for a moment. "And Figaro?" she said with a sneer. "Why is he not standing beside you?"

Ilren's expression grew momentarily troubled at mention of Figaro's name, and his eyes began to dart about, as if looking for something. He locked eyes with Xalen for a moment and then peered past him into the misty clouds. Ilren’s lips twisted into a cruel smile and Xalen turned around to see what the giff had spotted out there.

The tentacle ship was approaching.

Ilren turned back to Indra, all pretenses forgotten. "Well, it would seem my time playing here with you all is over." His mouth opened into a wide grin, a grin that grew wider as Ilren's body morphed from the red coated giff into a grey-skinned froglike creature.

“Death slaad,” Indra spat and attacked immediately.

She flew at the transformed giff with her sword, blade glowing with celestial fire, and struck him several blows.

The death slaad's grin grew wider despite the damage, and he raked the captain with his terrible claws.

Seknafret floated some distance away and encased herself in a cloud of sand obscuring her from the incoming tentacle ship as she sought to target its crew. As the terrible vessel drew closer, she realised that it was not a ship at all. It was, in fact, a living creature with wooden structures built onto the creature's back.

Long tentacles thrashed at the beast’s front, slamming hard into Brabara as she moved to engage Ilren. Wrapping itself around her leg and holding her fast.

Xalen flew to the opposite side of the Lambent Zenith and away from the arriving pirates to loose an arrow that sank deep into the slaad's flesh. The frog-like creature let out a growl of pain and Indra followed it up with another series of attacks.

Ebyn spun and sent a fireball down onto the "deck" of the pirate ship. The conflagration flashed brightly for a moment and the ship's massive eye swivelled to look at Ebyn. It blinked once and a duplicate explosion of fire burst out to cover him as the magic was reflected by the creature.

Ilren concentrated his attacks on Indra who fought with skill and determination. The pair exchanged several blows, she with her swords and he with his claws, and soon they both bled freely from numerous wounds.

Brabara cut herself free of the first tentacle only to become tangled with another. Soon it was all she could do to keep the relentless barrage of thick fleshy limbs at bay.

Xalen, Lysan, and Zastra peppered the crew of the pirate ship with shots of their own. The pirates had a spell caster among them who launched a blast of freezing air and ice down on them. The nimble warriors managed to avoid the worst of it, but the residual ice left the deck of the Lambent Zenith slippery.

Seknafret - hidden amid her cloud of swirling sand – called upon her pact to create a pillar of flame to strike the deck of the pirate ship. The flames killed several of the crew and caused the rest to scatter for a second time.

Once again, the huge eye swivelled. This time directing a duplicate flame strike down where Indra and Ilren battled. The damage was terrible, and Indra fell back, celestial blood and smoke pouring from her.

Ilren used the momentary reprieve to take flight. He launched off the deck of the Lambent Zenith and flew toward his own vessel. He landed on the structure affixed to the tentacled beast’s back, and upon seeing many of his crew dead, directed the ship to flee the area.

“Not so fast frog boy,” Brabara called, finally managing to free herself of the tentacles. She landed beside the death slaad and attacked with her glaive.

Ilren was quick, despite his wounds, and he dodged clear of the blows. With Brabara off balance, he used his impressive strength to shove the warrior woman off the side of his makeshift deck.

Brabara finally righted herself, but the tentacle ship had now moved far enough away that she would never be able to catch it.

Ilren stood at the rear of his rapidly accelerating ship glaring back at them as they flew to one another to help the injured.

Only Ebyn remained focused on the fight. He once again touched the weave, fingers pointing at the escaping death slaad’s body. Bolts of magical force burst from his finger and flew unerringly to strike Ilren in the chest. Each one thudding in with a satisfying crunch.

Ilren spun around from the force of the blow and flopped to the ground just as the tentacle ship disappeared into the mist.

“Did you get him?” Indra called up, one arm clutching her side as she leaned against the ship’s rail.

Ebyn nodded. “I did,” he said.

“Good,” Indra said, then slid to the wooden deck with a loud groan.

Seknafret landed on the deck beside the captain. “You’re hurt. Let me heal you.”

Indra shook her head. “No, not yet,” she managed. “Take care of my crew first. I’ll get through this.”

Seknafret nodded and used her healing magic to treat the wounds of all who were injured in the fight.

With the threat over, more of the crew came up on deck to see what happened, all of them glad to find their captain back among them.

“Where’s Figaro,” Indra asked once the welcomes had concluded.

“Locked in his quarters,” Lysan said, head lowered. “We’re sorry captain, but Ilren said it was under your orders.”

Indra placed a hand on Lysan’s shoulder. “Don’t feel bad, Lysan,” she said. “Ilren used some kind of magic to influence you. Don’t blame yourself, I should have come back sooner.”

She looked over the assembled crew, and then across to where Brabara, Xalen, Ebyn and Seknafret stood. “Though I doubt we’d have been able to defeat those pirates without the help of these brave souls. Thank you, friends.”

Brabara beamed. “The Succulent Juices stand ever ready to help those in need.”

“The what?” Indra asked.

“Succulent Juices,” Brabara repeated. “It’s what we call ourselves.”

Indra blinked. “I see, okay, well, thanks anyway. Now, let’s go find Figaro.”

Indra and the Juices went below deck to stand outside the door to Figaro’s quarters. She tried the handle but found it locked, so she knocked on the door with her hand. “Figaro, its Indra, are you in there?”

They all heard movement inside. “Captain? Is it really you?”

“It is, Figaro,” Indra said. “You’re safe. You can come out now.”

“How do I know it’s really you?” the voice said after a short pause.

Indra shook her head and placed a hand on the door. “Of course it’s me, Figaro. Remember when we docked at Crosswinds Keep and you locked yourself in your room because you thought I’d be leaving the ship behind?”

“Yes,” the voice said. “You said the Stalwart Lions offered you a place in their number.”

Indra smiled. “That’s right, Figaro. Do you remember what I said to you then?”

“I do,” came the reply. “Say it again now to prove it’s you.”

“Very good, Figaro,” Indra said. “I told you then that I would never leave you. You’re as much my brother as though we’d been born from the same mother. I told you then that this ship is my home, and no matter what, I’d always choose you over fame, glory, or riches.” Indra let out a long sigh. “The ship may no longer be what it was then, but my feelings haven’t changed.”

A faint muttering could be heard followed by the click of a lock before the door was flung open. A male tiefling stood in the doorway, eyes wide as he saw Indra standing there.

“It is you,” he said before running out the door to embrace the captain in a joyous hug of relief.  "I'm so glad you're safe. I was afraid you were lost in the crash."

Indra returned the hug warmly. "What happened here?" she asked, once Figaro – reluctantly – let her go.

"I'm not sure, really," he began. "The pirates attacked, and the tentacles broke the ship apart. I guess we got caught by the gravity of this dead god and we hit the thing hard." Figaro scratched his head as he struggled to make sense of his jumbled memories.

“I remember as much myself,” Indra said. “What happened after the crash?”

Figaro frowned. "Ilren tried to organise the repairs, but I could tell that something wasn't right. Soon, I found I couldn't think straight. In the end I didn't know what was right and I decided to lock myself in here to protect the guard ward."

Indra smiled warmly. "You did well, Figaro. I knew I could always rely on you to do the right thing."

Figaro's relief at Indra's praise was written plain on his face, but he gasped as he noticed Brabara, Seknafret, Ebyn, and Xalen for the first time. "Who are these people?"

"Relax, Figaro," Indra said as reassuringly as she could. "These four are friends. They helped drive the pirates away and freed us from Ilren's corrupt influence. You can trust them as you can trust anyone in our crew."

Figaro nodded. "Well met, friends."

Ebyn stepped forward and stuck his head in the stateroom, his eyes scanning trying to find the source of the magic Figaro used to lock himself inside. He noticed the residual effect of what seemed to be a forcecage of some kind. Powerful magic indeed and for the tiefling to have kept such an effect up for so long he must be a spellcaster of some skill. 

"How did you keep the barrier in place for so long?" Ebyn asked.

Figaro turned to regard Ebyn. "I know the captain says I should trust you, but we have only just been introduced so I hope you'll forgive me for not sharing all my secrets with you right now."

Ebyn nodded. "I get it. You aren’t the first spellcaster to hold his cards close to his chest."

Figaro smiled in response. "I am glad we understand each other."

“Figaro,” Indra said. “Would you mind disabling the ward rune in here?”

Figaro looked at the captain, eyes narrowed. “Why would you want me to do that?”

Indra smiled. “Don’t worry, Figaro. I am not under any kind of compulsion. I have agreed to let these travellers take the artifact. We have monopolized its power long enough and they are on an important quest that will do enormous good with it.”

Figaro eyed the captain for long moment. “You’re sure about this?”

“I am,” she said.

With that, Figaro turned and walked to the headboard of the bed and placed a hand on the carving of a two-masted ship at its centre. “The moon sings a song for the lost,” he said as he tapped three times with his fingers.

Nothing visible happened, but a low-pitched humming that had persisted at the edge of hearing ended and its absence left the room silent.

“It’s done,” Figaro said coming back toward the door.

Indra smiled. “Thank you, Figaro. Our new friends will shut down the other two wards. In the meantime, we have some packing to take care of.”

The group returned topside and settled in for another rest before beginning the search for the rod piece, while Indra toured the wreck of the back of her ship.

Brabara watched as crewmen brought mops up to wash the blood from the fight off the wooden deck. “Why bother with that?” she said to one of the cleaners as she adjusted her position to let them past.

The man shrugged. “Habit,” he said. “It gives us something to do while we’re down here.”

Brabara shook her head in disbelief. “Seems like a waste of effort given you’ll be leaving with us when we’re done.”

The man paused his work a moment. “You mean it? You’re going to take us all with you?”

“Of course,” Brabara said.

The man smiled and extended his hand. “I’m Yarrow. Nice to meet you.”

Brabara took the man’s hand and shook it. “Brabara.”

“Nice to know there are still good people in the world,” Yarrow said. “Now if you don’t mind, I got some work to finish up before we head out.”

Brabara shook her head as Yarrow went about his duties, “Sailors are a weird bunch.”

“You can say that again,” another man, an elf, said. “Never could figure out what motivates them.”

Brabara looked at the man. He was dressed simply, long dark hair hanging loosely over a stained white shirt and a patched pair of trousers tied with a length of rope. “Who are you?”

“My name is Daveras,” he said. “I’m told you’re the leader here.”

Brabara nodded. “The sergeant, yes.”

“I was hoping I might accompany you to the middle section of the ship,” Daveras said. “My two companions, Redbud and Ikasa are there. I believe you’ve met them.”

Xalen stood up and approached the pair. “Daveras, eh? Redbud did mention you. What kind of friend leaves his companions like that.”

Daveras lowered his eyes. “I know. I feel terrible. After we crashed, I came here hoping to get help for them but after then I just kinda … forgot?”

Xalen scoffed. “Forgot?”

“It’s not the right word but you get my meaning,” Daveras explained. “Now, with Ilren being gone, some things are coming back. Though I still can’t be sure what’s true. I don’t know what he did to us but thank you for making it stop.”

Xalen nodded. “Sorry, I guess I was being a bit harsh. Of course you can come with us. I reckon your friends will be glad to see you again.”

“Though Redbud did tell us he was thinking of coming here,” Brabara pointed out.

Devras shrugged. “If he’s not here already, he might be having trouble separating himself from our boat. I can help with that at least.”

“Sure,” Brabara said. “I think we’ll be leaving in about a quarter hour. You’re welcome to wait here until then.”

“Thank you,” Devras said, and took a seat against the base of one the Lambent Zenith’s masts.

---

With their short rest done, the Succulent Juices, and Daveras, flew across to the mid-section of the ship.

Ikasa had been running and playing amid the treant’s roots but stopped as soon as he saw Daveras.

“You came back,” the dog said happily and ran toward the elf.

Daveras spread his arms wide to catch the dog as it jumped. “It’s good to see you, Ikasa. I’m sorry it took me so long to get back.”

“It’s okay,” Ikasa said between licks.

“We are glad you’re safe,” Redbud’s deep earthen voice said.

“Thanks to these heroes,” Daveras said.

“They saved me as well,” Ikasa said.

Brabara stood at the edge of the hole in the deck peering down. “We need to go down there again. Anything we should know about?”

Redbud’s branches moved, causing his leaves to rustle. “The brain beaks have not returned,” he said. “All should be as you left it.”

Ebyn and Brabara dropped down and found the second ward on the wall of the study where Indra told them it would be. Ebyn disabled this using the passphrase and he and Brabara returned to the others.

“Let’s go,” Ebyn said, eager now that the second rod piece was within their grasp.

“Thank you, friends,” Redbud said. “Your help has been appreciated.”

“You should make your way to the rear section and join the others,” Seknafret said. “Once we secure the artifact we will return there and guide everyone to the portal.”

Daveras nodded. “We’ll see you there. Good luck.”

They flew to the prow again, keeping a wary eye out, and reached the ruined front section of the ship without attracting any predators. They took the stairs down to the vault and disabled the third rune. The barrier vanished and Brabara led the way in.

The interior of the vault was in ruins, and an overwhelmingly foul stench filled the air. The entire front section of the hull had been torn open from the outside and a disgusting rotting tunnel of flesh led out into the body of the dead or dying god.

“It’s not here,” Ebyn said. “There’s nothing magical here anymore.”

Brabara blanched. “Don’t tell me we have to go through that?”

Ebyn shrugged. “Where else can we go?”

Xalen examined the hole and used his rapier to poke at the putrid flesh. “Looks like something pretty big dug its way in here and took the rod piece.”

Brabara sighed. “Fine then. Follow me.”

“Wait,” Ebyn said. “Let me send the arcane eye in there first.”

For once, Brabara didn’t argue. “Have at it. I don’t want to spend one second longer in there than we must.”

Ebyn took up a bit of bat fur and rolled it into a ball while muttering arcane words. He released the spell and the fur formed into the shape of an eye before vanishing. Once cast, he directed the eye into the hole and guided it through several cavernous openings split by walls of rotting flesh.

As they waited for Ebyn to finish his exploration, a sudden gust of putrid air blew past them accompanied by a distinctive double beat.

“Tell me that’s not what I think it is,” Xalen said covering his mouth with his hand.

Seknafret gagged. “It can’t be, can it?”

Ebyn’s eyes regained focus and he looked up at the others. “I believe this tunnel leads to the god’s heart. I noted four chambers within and saw the walls contract to coincide with that beat we just heard.”

Brabara blanched again. “You mean that this god, thing, is still alive?”

Ebyn nodded. “Perhaps, though just barely it would seem.”

“I hate this place,” Brabara said. “Did you see the rod piece?”

“I did not,” Ebyn said. “The chambers were all empty, but I did notice what looked like a pool of blood in the last chamber. It’s possible the rod piece is submerged there.”

“Fucking great,” Brabara said. “So, we’re going in then.”

Brabara grabbed her weapon and ducked into the hole, stepping through to the first of the four chambers. She walked slowly, one arm up to cover her nose and mouth from the terrible stench of the place and moved into the second chamber, just as the others had entered the first.

“God damn, it stinks in here,” she said, pausing while the others drew up behind her.

A meaty splat sounded up ahead, as though someone had smacked two thick steaks together, followed by another strong waft of bad air.

“What was that?” Xalen hissed. “Another beat?”

Brabara’s eyes went wide when she spotted the source of the sound. “No. This is something much worse.”

Before them, rose a massive, long necked creature. Viscera dripped from its spike covered body, and gore drooled from its fang filled mouth. The terrible creature let out a loud bellow and moved with a speed that belied its great size toward them.

Brabara took a position between the monstrosity and the others, using her glaive to try and keep it at bay, but its sheer size and strength made that impossible. Brabara tapped into her own inner power and increased in size enough to block the path forward giving Xalen and Seknafret the opportunity to pepper its thick hide with arrow and spell.

The walls of the gods heart shuddered as another of its few remaining beats caused the organ to contract, and knocking everyone off their feet.

The beast seemed unaffected by the movement and used their momentary imbalance to bring its wide mouth down on Ebyn, swallowing the mage whole.

Brabara screamed. For the second time that day, Ebyn had become enveloped by a monster. This one at least appeared big enough that their attacks would not harm the wizard within.

Ebyn struggled vainly for an escape. He pushed and prodded in all directions, even going so far as to bring his dagger out to cut at the monster from within. He could feel his flesh burn as acids within the creature’s stomach did their slow work to digest him.

He tried to scream, but it sounded muffled even to him. Ebyn closed his eyes and forced the panic that threatened to overwhelm him to subside. Calm. He had to think his way through this. There was a way out, there had to be.

Outside, in the dead god’s heart, Brabara raged.

She swung her glaive like a woman possessed. The extra strength granted by her greater size cut swathes from the monster’s flesh. Blood flowed from numerous wounds, but still the beast attacked with all the ferocity it showed in the beginning.

Xalen and Seknafret continued to attack from range, every strike opening a new wound that added to the flow of blood pooling at Brabara’s feet. Yet none of it seemed to slow the creature down.

Ebyn appeared in a cloud of mist about a dozen paces away behind the beast. His entire body covered in a slick gelatinous ooze that he scooped away with his hands.

“What the fuck?” Brabara called. “How did you do that?”

“Arcane Eye,” Ebyn said. “It was still working so I could see a location to teleport to.”

Brabara struck the creature again. Thrusting upward with her glaive to open a wound underneath a leg that caused the beast to stumble. “Good thinking,” she said, as she stepped to the side to avoid the monster’s wickedly spiked tail. “Can we get the hell out of here yet?”

“I’m afraid not,” Ebyn said, while sending a firebolt into the creature’s side. “It has the rod piece in its gut. We need to kill it.”

Brabara grimaced. “Fucking wonderful.”

The group redoubled their efforts.

Their combination of steel and spell working to finally bring the creature down. By the time the beast finally fell, dissolving in a mass of blood and gore, they had little left to give. If a small band of wondering kobolds chose that moment to demand their surrender, it’s likely they’d give it without a second thought.

The rod piece, glowing a faint green, lay on the ground at the centre of the viscera where the beast fell.

Brabara crawled her way through the muck to collect the precious artifact and tucked it into her backpack.

The heart convulsed again. Another beat, but different this time. The meaty walls of the chambers pressed down on the four of them. The compression lasted longer than the others, vibrating almost as if straining, then released.

“That can’t be good,” Seknafret said between heaving breaths. “I think killing that thing has finally done the god in.”

A large chuck of meat above them tore away and plopped bloodily on the floor.

“We need to get out of here,” Xalen said.

The group picked their way through dropping chunks of flesh until they reached the hole in the ship’s prow, climbing through and into the fresh clean air of the outside. None of them were given a chance to savour the freshness though as the whole wreck shuddered.

They ran up the stairs and launched themselves into the sky as the mass of flesh that held the front part of the ship started to fall away, any remnant of cohesion coming apart.

The group watched in horror as the dead god’s flesh seemed to eat itself, and anything touching it, until there was nothing left of either.

“Quick,” Xalen said. “We need to warn the others.”

The Succulent Juices flew through the clouds, in a headlong rush, to the rear of the ship. They could hear the noise of the destruction fading the further they went but knew it would consume the whole eventually.

The predators living in the clouds must have sensed it too.

Looking around they could see dozens of creatures fleeing the concealment of the clouds and escape into the darkness of the void.

“We have to go,” Ebyn said. He flew faster than the others and reached the rear section of the ship first. “This whole place is about to disintegrate.”

“What did you do?” Indra said.

“I think we killed a god,” Ebyn replied. Not entirely sure what else to tell her.

Indra turned and started issuing orders.

By the time Brabara, who was slowest, reached them, most of her crew, including Redbud, Daveras, and Ikasa, had taken flight with whatever possessions they could carry.

Together, the rag-tag bunch of spelljammers, and astral travellers made their way up to the portal and spewed through in a rush with Ebyn at their head. All of them ready to leave the Astral Sea behind them.

“What is this?” Alustriel said when the crew of the Lambent Zenith began to pass through the portal.

“I’ll explain later,” Ebyn said, residual bits of gore still clinging to his clothes. “But they needed our help.”

Alustriel frowned but said nothing as fifteen people, a dog, and a treant came through the magical gate. Indra, and the remaining Juices stepping through last.

“That’s everyone,” Brabara said.

Alustriel eyed the four of them. “Well, you all look like you’ve been through something. Are you hurt?”

“The rod piece,” Mordenkainen said. “Do you have it?”

Brabara nodded and retrieved the artifact from her pack to hand it to the archmage.

Mordenkainen clapped Brabara on the back as he took the item, quite a forceful blow considering his slight build. "Well done. Well done, indeed. You four are proving quite useful.”

Alustriel watched the exchange and shook her head. “Can someone explain what is going on?”

“Forgive me,” Indra said approaching Alustriel. “I am Indra Malayuri, Captain of the Lambent Zenith, and this,” she indicated the others, “is my crew.”

Alustriel eyed the captain, taking note of her prosthetic wing and leg. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Indra,” she said finally. “I expect you have quite the story to tell.”

Indra nodded. “I do indeed. But I’d like first to thank you, and these four brave heroes for rescuing us, and for giving us a way off that mass of rotting god’s flesh.”

“I see,” Alustriel said. “Welcome to you Indra, and to your crew. We don’t have room here to house so many, but the city of Sigil has many such places. If you could get your people organized, I’ll have my wife, Malaina, take you to a reputable place nearby.” She then turned to look at the four adventurers. “The four of you look like hell. Go, get yourselves cleaned up and get some sleep. We can talk in the morning.”

Brabara nodded. “I could use a decent rest. That last fight hurt like a bitch.”

---

That night they all shared a dream: 

Vecna as a young boy being trained by his mother in the ancient Flan city of Fleeth on Oerth.

His mother was a strong magic-user, and their family was part of a wealthy caste of citizens, but arcane magic was forbidden to males in their society. Even so, she chose to teach her son in secret.

Vecna was a fast learner, but the more he learned the more he became interested in the dark arts of necromancy, demonology, and chaos magic. His mother refused to teach him such magic so he began to study on his own and developed quite a talent for it.

Soon their friends and neighbours would find that their pets and herd animals would go missing. Some would be found dead with strange glyphs carved into their flesh, while others would complain of strange or erratic behaviour and Vecna's mother was accused of witchcraft by her peers.

Guards forced their way into their home and found the secret room where Vecna had been practicing his necromancy. They promptly arrested and executed his mother for his crimes.

On the night of her death, she pleaded with her son to help her, but he refused and allowed her to be killed in his place.