I'm mostly hoping for some sort of crazy bullshit epic ritual to send the whole thing deep into the Far Realm or something. Sure it might make the Far Realm explicitly evil, but it should also weaken established powers and make it much harder for Abyss threats to act on other planes as well as for souls to go there when they die.
I'm mostly hoping for some sort of crazy bullshit epic ritual to send the whole thing deep into the Far Realm or something. Sure it might make the Far Realm explicitly evil, but it should also weaken established powers and make it much harder for Abyss threats to act on other planes as well as for souls to go there when they die.
That sounds... Like it will come back to bite us. No one wants to get access to the administration account that regulates the planes, or make a complaint to the manager*?
*A mad screaming monkey. Commonly referred to as Ao
So, you're saying we need, for a very short period, absolute control over time, so we can pause everything and do some work on the lower planes?
I'm joking, but I can see arguments for why there must be an Abyss, but not why it needs be a place that creates fiends out of souls. That's fucked up.
That sounds... Like it will come back to bite us. No one wants to get access to the administration account that regulates the planes, or make a complaint to the manager*?
*A mad screaming monkey. Commonly referred to as Ao
Oh, I'd forgotten about him. I wonder if he has stats for us to kill?
More seriously, we can deal with that when it happens. As long as we have an alternate solution ready for use and avoid too many other things breaking, then he sholdn't intervene much. He isn't against change - he mostly seems to intervene when things break so hard that they break the rest of reality with them. If we somehow found a way to fix the Abyss problem without the rest of reality breaking...
Well, that is a little crazy.
Yes, rewriting the universe is the objective. I don't know what kind of epic ritual DP will allow, but I will maintain hope for as long as the quest goes.
More reasonably, how about something like what the Necron (at Cadia) or Eldar (in their craftworlds) do in 40k to avoid dealing with the Warp?
EDIT: For non-40k fans, the Eldar have a sort of artificial heaven that captures the souls of the dead before they can vanish into the Warp, but only in a specific planet-sized area. And at Cadia the Necron have a network of giant magic pillars that somehow weakens the Warp and holds back even the Gods of Chaos, but only in a specific planet-sized area.
If Minecraft players can tame such a place and turn it into an automated slaughterhouse that funnels power and resources into the prime material, so can we.
"Do not attempt to play me for a fool, Yrten Sword-Sunder. Show me due respect if you wish me to reciprocate in full. Now what is your true goal in taking a prize of such value that doing so will forever after earn you the personal ire of the Brazen Throne?" you hiss, allowing a thread of black smoke to waft out of your jaws.
The stocky golden-skinned man looks you up and down, running his fingers through his flaming beard. The mummery is clear as day to your eyes, the decision obviously taken in an instant, but you let it play out.
"So the tales of a dragon's wisdom are as true as those of their strength, eh?" He leans on his hammer like a man using a stylish walking stick, the enormous weapon seemingly light as a reed in his grip as he does so. "They say that among the slaves there is one who has lain long in Hell unjustly... for myself I care little of such things." The pirate spits, searing the stone underfoot. "What matters most is that he holds some knowledge precious to the Grand Vizier, alchemy or poison-craft, it takes the shape of a winged snake. "
"Who is this 'they' you speak of?" you ask, moderating your tone, though allowing your curiosity to show through in full. "I'd not think the business of devils and the Brazen Throne would be found in the mouths of sailors and dockside rumormongers. "
"A man's got to keep some secrets, if he's expected to keep on hearing them," Yrten replies softly, but with an air of finality to it. You suspect he would have to trust you a great deal more than he does now to share more, not that you can blame the man. You certainly would not trust a red-scaled wyrm anymore than its greed stretched.
"A deal then, but I yet have business in these parts..." You carefully produce a stone of far speaking from one of the pouches still strapped your scaled form and mark upon it a seal of power. "Take this with you and call me once you are near our prey. I will come with more than my own strength to the battle at hand."
"Well now, what's this strength you speak of..." Yrten's question had not been a truly surprising, and so you offer to take him back to the others.
***
The flame-born raider is able to take Waymar and Ser Richard's measure easily enough, even offering a sincere compliment on Oathkeeper's forging, though the blade is not even drawn from its sheath as you speak. He glances over Dany and Tyene with the air of one familiar enough with mages to know their worth though with no great skill in the arcane, and onto Rina he gives much the same glance, with perhaps an edge of disdain on account of her nature. Baella on the other hand he has no notion what to make of.
"Heard of pods turning on the whalers when there's some big bull to lead them, but I'm not sure how...."
"Pretend I'm a boat, like the one you ride around on," the fire whale says sweetly.
"Boat?" Yrten's offense is so alike to that which any skipper in the Deep would show to have their vessel called boat, you are thankful a dragon's face cannot form a smile. The following lecture is no less familiar.
"You did that on purpose, didn't you?" Tyene asks Baella once the pirate captain had been delivered back to his ship.
"I don't like seeing my people being discounted like that, as mere beasts, that sometimes turn on the hunters," she admits a little wistfully. "I figured that if he heard someone discount something he loves in seeming ignorance then mayhap he will change his tune."
"People like that rarely change worth a damn," Rina sighs. From the edge of bitterness to the words you suspect she speaks from experience.
"Thankfully we have only to bear his company long enough to see the raid to its end," you note. "For now we've other prey to catch..."
***
For almost a full day you fly above waves alight with flame and strange sorcery catching not a glimpse of the supposed expedition against the Shaitans on the route they are supposed to have followed. Just as you begin to wonder if had been too slow or they too swift, Baella hears the song of her kin in the distance and calls back for news. It takes a while to get what you need across, for the pods rarely care for any ships save the whalers, but in the end they agree to send the message on.
The convoy had taken another route, one that drives you to ride the treacherous winds under Tyene's power for hours until at last you come upon the ships you sought. They have to them almost the likeness of turtles with spiked adamantium plates glowing in phantom flames of this otherworldly sky. Their prow seems ironically enough to have been wrought in the likenesses of a dragon with glowing brass eyes and teeth of blackened iron.
"How the hells do they know where they are going?" Waymar asks in confusion upon hearing the foe's description.
"Magic?" You shrug, the gesture still feeling slightly odd in a dragon's skin.
How do you attack the convoy?
[] Write in plan of attack
OOC: Sorry this is so late. I was very ridiculously busy today.
Epic level D&D is painfully stupid. I'm sure something could be cobbled together by an Epic spellcaster with a sufficiently nice GM...
Any reasonable GM would have the plan attract more enemies than could be dealt with, but what if we Diplomanced the Gods first? Who even likes the Abyss, really? Are they worth keeping?
More seriously, trapping the souls of the dead could be done with magic items. Give everyone a Contingent Trap the Soul + Word of Recall upon the object (and maybe with a Shaped Contingent Disjunction or something to counter effects that would trap the Soul Gem and block its Word of Recall). Then cast Genesis, make your Plane utterly impassable even to the souls of the dead, and release these souls upon that Plane.
[shrugs]
This is just a first draft. But if we do have enough wealth and time, things can change. Not perfectly - nothing is ever perfect - but we can strike a strong blow against the Abyss. Or at least feel better about existence itself.
The convoy had taken another route, one that drives you to ride the treacherous winds under Tyene's power for hours until at last you come upon the ships you sought. They have to them them almost the likeness of turtles with spiked admantium platesglowing the in phantom flames of this otherworldly sky. Their prow seems ironically enough to have been wrought in the likenesses of a dragon with glowing brass eyes and teeth of blackened iron.
What they need is altering how they work, greatly. A large enough alteration is similar to destruction
So. They need destruction, not, Mammon is dead, long live Mammon. As whatever elements of the conquerer of the plane in question that do not fit with the title of "Lord of plane x" are worn away untill the new guy is just the same as the old guy.
The day began for Norman Storm early in the morning with an order from a roll of parchment marked by the King's Seal. Mathis' Cookshop, meaning him as the baker, has been comissioned by the Royal Steward herself to create a new dish. One fit for a reminder for one of the king' sweet victory and wealth. One fit to serve beings not of this world, if need be. The only requirements are, it has to be gold colored, and has to be called mamon (muh-mon').
As such, being busy with the ovens and experimenting with recipes to fufill such order, his usual customers have gathered in a displeased throng around the kitchen.
"No meat pie? How can morning be good with no pie? Calves are weaning! Milk gone soon!" Colorful, the cow guard and porter of the dye shop across the street shook her blue and yellow head in sorrow, while white and red arms hold tight the "leash" she appeared to have tied her kids with. The almost a year old twins are at it again, slapping each other with force strong enough to break rocks.
"How about my carrot muffin?" complained Julienne, Spear Chief of the L'essarians(Little Essarians) as he idly played at a carrot with his spear, quickly chopping it to long thin slices that earned him his name. "You know I don't like to move it in the morning without a fresh muffin. God-Vanor knows I don't. Don't I, Morys?"
The Dream Chief and first steward of Malarys sighed, like as if he didn't earn his name from Lord Vanor himself just to be a complaints person. "We both want muffins, Julienne and Lord Vanor, his flatcakes. I'm annoyed as you also as to why we can't get our orders this morning."
"If you could all shut it and let us cook in peace, we'll be able to get to your orders sooner!" snapped Norman. "The King's request goes first, and I'm almost done with it." He says as he pull out three dozen golden cupcakes out of the oven for glazing. His idea for what a mamon is, is to stack glazed soft mini-cakes all together like a mound of gold. Like how prosperous the King is, and being generous to his subjects, the dessert can be shared.
Wong chuckled beside him while making his mien. "Drink some soup, dear friends. Apologies for the wait. Surely all can wait for King's request?" He said as he handed a bowl to Colorful's squabbling twins, and scooped the julienned vegetables for his own cooking.
"True..." Julienne replied. "But what are those cupca-" the Little Valyrian stopped as a shadow loomed over him.
Norman also started as he looked at a very large minotaur stranger. Which was odd, seeing as he might have met all of them in the Deep and he never recalled seeing this tall one before. Not to mention that apparently he's wearing a chain slung over his shoulder across his torso.
Colorful huffed and wheezed. "Oh, hi... who you be, big strong bull?"
The giant of a Minotaur took one look at her and rumbled, " When I appeared beside the damned feathered beasts and bunch of pirates, I thought was back on that accursed plane and was ready to torch this place until I saw your goblins ain't ugly enough. Then I saw all this beautiful ladies around, ya think I got to Valhalla. Too bad I'm married gal, and aren't you also?"
Norman almost dropped the cupcakes by surprise at the bull's odd speech. He doesn't speak like a minotaur.
"Mate's godswood keeper now. I'm free!" Came Colorful's eager reply.
The bull snorted. "Mine's dead too, but my daughters will knock me silly if I marry again, especially now my eldest is pregnant with my first grandchild." The cow dropped tilted her head in incomprehension. Norman did too. Like, aren't all minotaur kids less than a year old?
"Speaking of which, I need to get her a proper crib. Later, beautiful. I'm looking for a Wong Fan? I was told he would be here." the odd bull looked around.
Wong Fan looked up at the mention of his name, "I am him. What do you need of me, friend?"
The minotaur huffed. "I want your wok. It's mine but I'll even pay for it other than just taking it from you."
"Not for sale. Can't cook without wok." Wong said in surprise. "It's one of a kind."
"You can cook with other stuff. I need that wok as my granchild's crib." The minotaur dismissively waved him off. "That's my work anyway. Surely that your master's master, that prick Xuanzang told you about me? The great blacksmith Angrath?"
Wong reeled back, stunned. Then quickly took a fighting pose. "Niu Mo Wang! The scourge of Carcossa?!"
Angrath groaned. "I'm a bull, but certainly no demon or king, boy. Also, those yellow bastards had it coming. Sending the dead after me? Of course I sent them back, flaming." He stared at Wong's pose. "As my reputation seem to have preceeded me, I don't think you'll sell that to me then? I really want that wok though. It's tough, metal outside, but soft in the inside. One of a kind, even across in the eternities." His chain slid off from his body, lighting up red hot as it did so. So as his hands, face and eyes. "Shall we take this outside? Winner gets to keep the wok. No sense distressing this beautiful cow here."
Colorful huffed like a lady swooning.
They went outside and soon there were sounds of fighting. Norman can't let everything that happened distract him though. He just finished glazing the cupcakes and was stacking them when Wong came back in, looking worse for the wear. Angrath followed back, not a scratch on him.
The mien master gloomily transferred what he was cooking into a cauldron and handed his over to the minotaur. "Remember your promise, Niu Mo Wang."
The bull huffed back. "I'll be done in a day or two. A new wok for you. Just the mundane kind, not enchanted like this one. You have my word as a smith." He sniffed, then casually picked one of the cupcakes that Norman has been making and popped it in his mouth. "Tastes like victory. Make it a day, then. Cook, I want an order of this cupcakes too by tomorrow morning. Here's a downpayment." He casually dropped several coins on the kitchen table. Several gold coins... "What's these called anyway?" He says, as he takes another one and eats it.
Norman, too stunned to be outraged stammered. "Uh, m-mamon?"
Angrath beamed, as he took another one and said, "These are great." and another one. "Make it two orders." He causally hefted the wok behind his back, the chain threaded itself through it to lock it in place. "I'll be back." He said, as he took three more and stepped out.
When Norman finally recovered to run after him in protest, he stepped out to see a shocked crowd as the thieving ruiner of the King's order, vanish before their eyes, leaving behind a half seen symbol, a shimmer in the air, before it too vanished like a figment of a dream.
Notes: So with all the ruckus about Minotaurs in the previous canon omakes, inspiration came and here we go again. Obviously non-canon, but hopefully @DragonParadox would cosider some elements here. The star of this omake, is in my opinion one of the best MTG characters. He's a father, travelling the multiverse in search of gifts for his daughters. He got trapped for a time in a plane of dinosaurs, vampires, pirates and goblins that look like lemurs (sounds familiar?). SD has all the beautiful ladies though.
