320vas - Jinx In Hell 04 - Entering Dis

Jinx in Hell, Part 4 Entering Dis An AD&D Campaign Report Jim Vassilakos ([email protected]) & Kurt Olson (playing Jinx) Xi When last we left Jinx & Kyna, they had just reached the plane of Dis, its gale-force winds making them both crouch down against the small hillock where Malgrin’s blood gate had deposited them lest they be blown off their feet and into the murky green sky. Meanwhile, the city of Dis, the plane’s capital, rises in the distance from some poisonous lake, noxious steam fuming from the labyrinth of channels which surround the city and vanish into the distance, all of which adds a decidedly foul stench to the unruly air. As Jinx looks around to get her bearings, she makes out a number of chains which are embedded in the stone terrain, most of them terminating in blood-encrusted manacles. Likewise, there appears to be a small alter carved directly from the hill’s rocky summit, various eyehooks hammered into a bench-like slab, chains with more manacles clattering, barely audible, in the howling wind. In the distance, Jinx can vaguely hear Kyna shouting. Turning to look, she sees the erinye beside her, her words apparently stolen by the rushing air, although her arm is outstretched, her finger pointing. Jinx turns only to see a robed figure standing some thirty feet away. It is either hideously strong or magically immune to the windstorm, probably the latter, as even the individual’s long hooded robe doesn’t react to the gale. The figure motions for them to come forward, and not knowing what else to do, both Jinx and Kyna comply, allowing themselves to be led to a staircase which descends into the stone knoll. Once below, they are led to a dark lobby, torchlight filtering in from an adjoining corridor as well as the pained noise of someone moaning in the distance. At this point, the figure pulls down her hood exposing a perfectly bald head. “What message is so important that Malgrin must send two people to carry it?” “We’re not messengers,” Jinx replies. “We’re travelers from Malsheem passing through to Dis.”

“Why the scenic route?” “We have our reasons.” “Who do you serve?” Jinx pauses for a moment, not quite knowing if the truth would best serve her interests. Finally, she pulls out her amulet with the sigil of Adramalech. The robed woman stares at it for a long moment, her eyes registering either respect or fear, Jinx isn’t sure which. “You serve Adramalech?” “Obviously. We simply seek passage to the city of Dis.” “It would seem your master sent you ill-equipped.” “Yes, well we’ve never been to Dis before. I was told it would be windy. I didn’t know it would be this windy. Is it always like this?” “What you experienced on the surface was merely a light breeze. You should have been here during the high-wind. The air would have ripped the flesh from your bones.” “In that case, I’ll need to borrow one of your robes.” “If you should get caught in a storm, that wouldn’t help your steed. Now tell me, what are you doing here for the Lord Chancellor, and why does he send you by way of Malgrin?” Jinx pauses for a moment, thinking over her various alternatives as more moaning emanates from the corridor. “Isn’t there a more private place that we can discuss this?” “Follow me.” She leads them further into the complex, and as they pass the chamber with the moaning noise, Jinx sees that these devils appear to have captured an angel of some sort. His feathery wings are clearly broken, bones sticking out of them in various places, and as if that weren’t bad enough, a large insectoid creature1 is slowly pulling out his intestines while a dozen or so more studiously observe. “We have visitors from the blood gate,” the bald woman tells them. “Their nightmares will need to be washed. See to it. And you,” she says to the one holding a strand of angel

intestine, “make sure our friend here doesn’t die, or you shall fill in for him when we resume.” Then she motions for Jinx and Kyna to follow. “Stay back and watch our steeds,” Jinx tells Kyna. “Your nightmares are safe here,” the woman declares. “I’m sure they are,” Jinx replies, her tone as flat as it is deliberate. “As you wish,” she acquiesces, leading Jinx still deeper into the complex, until they reach a warm subterranean pool, stalactites hanging down from the roof and in several cases reaching the water’s surface. She proceeds to disrobe, and as she does, Jinx watches curiously as long spider legs uncurl from her back. Despite this strange mix of forms, the spider-woman dives gracefully into the water, motioning for Jinx to follow suit, but Jinx stands fast on the bank, rather uncertain about exposing herself to the plane’s waters. “Don’t worry. It’s safe. Unless, of course, you enjoy being encrusted with the blood of Avernus.” Jinx hesitantly removes her clothing,2 save for the amulet given her by Adramalech, and, of course, the ring forced upon her my Mephistopheles. Finally she wades into the pool, cleaning off the effects of Malgrin’s gate. As she soaks her hair, the bald she-devil offers her a vial of what appears to be plain water which Jinx accepts somewhat curiously. “What’s this? Something to drink?” The she-devil snorts at the query, putting her arms around Jinx’s neck to remove the amulet, but Jinx backs away, uneasy with the advance. “What are you doing?” “You did say you wanted privacy, didn’t you?” Jinx hesitates for a moment, then removes the necklace to which the amulet is fastened, unsure if her actions would be considered disloyal. “Is this want you want?” “I don’t think the Chancellor’s

1

2

A kocrachon, covered in the Monstrous Supplement in Planes of Law (AD&D2e)

Woo-hoo! I can’t wait until this gets made into a movie! -

minions really need to see us bathing, do you?” With that, she gently guides Jinx’s hands with her own and lowers the necklace into the vial, giving her a nod of approval as Jinx releases the necklace as well as her grip on the vial. Then she stoppers it shut and sets it beside a large stone on the pool’s bank. “What’s that all about?” “Fresh Styx water. Very hard to scry through. No disrespect to your master, but a little mystery is good for the soul.” Jinx can’t help but grin at the comment. “This isn’t Styx water that we bathe in, is it?” The she-devil casts Jinx a strange look. “You really haven’t been here before, have you?” “As you can see, I’ve only just arrived.” “It would seem you have much to learn. As do I, at least as pertains to you and your mission.” “I’m not sure how much I can tell you. It’s a private matter, and we are still strangers.” “My name is Xi. I am the chief instructress of the Knoll of Blades3. Now that we bathe together and know each others names, how less strange to one another would you have us become?” Jinx blinks for a moment, wondering if that was a come on. “You don’t know my name.” “It is Jinx, is it not?” Jinx stares at her, a bit perturbed, and quite certain that she never revealed her name. “How did you know that?” “How does one know anything? One senses it…through the eyes…through the ears…through the mind.” “So you could sense it? Or did somebody tell you I was coming?” Xi laughs, “You amuse me.” “So many questions, so few brains?” Jinx pokes fun at herself. “If you say so,” Xi shrugs agreeably. “I’ve never seen your kind, before. What are you?” “You jest.” “No. I am rather new to the Hells.” “That much I can plainly see. My kind are called Kere4.” “Wherein do you rank among devils?”

“That depends on what sort of devils you refer to.” “Erinye.” “Well, an erinye would not be running this school, so I think that should answer your question.” Jinx nods, “Then you were once an erinye?” “A long time ago, yes.” “What did you do then?” “I was a student of pain. Now I am a teacher.” “Where did you train?” “At Malsheem,” Xi replies. “Under Phongor?” “Perhaps.” “Then you’ve been his chair5…from time to time?” Xi stares at Jinx for a long moment. “Do chairs amuse you?” “Not at all. Quite honestly, I was somewhat revolted. But now, at least, I know who it was who told you I was coming. I suppose the fact that it was suggested to me that I travel this route, 5

3 4

A school of torture on Dis.

See Legions of Hell: Book of Fiends, Volume One, p31.

She is, of course, referring to how Phongor used one of his servants as a chair. If you need a refresher, see the 2nd installment of this campaign write-up.

and without a robe like the one you wore outside, ought to indicate that Phongor wanted us to meet. I suppose that he has his fingers in many places…other than his chairs, of course.” “Very good,” Xi appraises. “For your information, however, the point of being a chair, or any other pose for that matter, is that one cannot properly wield pain or discipline until one embraces them thoroughly. Phongor understands this as do I. But I’m sure…at your stage of knowledge into such matters…you would have no clue what I’m even talking about.” Jinx smiles, “You’re right. I’m not an interrogator. And given the rigors of the art, I doubt I would ever choose to become one. Nonetheless, you didn’t bring me here to talk about your profession. You want to know what I’m doing here. Doesn’t Phongor already know?” “Perhaps,” Xi replies. “But if he does, he didn’t tell me.” “So what did he tell you?” “That a she-devil servant of Adramalech might be passing through, and that I should show you how to use

Styx water to protect your privacy. It is a little gift he wanted you to have, something he said you were unwilling to accept from him at Malsheem.” “I hope I didn’t offend him.” “Not in the least. I rather think he was impressed.” Jinx nods, “Very interesting. What about my ring?” She takes it off, drops it into the pool, and watches as it reappears on her finger. “Does Styx water make it forget where it belongs?” “No such luck. Fortunately, your ring only tells them where you are. It’s through the medallion that they can see you.” “I see,” Jinx nods. “Still…they could scry the old-fashioned way.” “They could, but that is much more difficult. Generally, devils who are trained in such magery tend to focus on individuals who don’t wear one of Adramalech’s amulets. Of course, now that you have become difficult to see via your amulet,” she glances toward the vial at the pool’s edge, “one of the mages has probably been called upon to scry for you via your ring. Hence, we don’t have much longer to speak plainly.” “In that case, I’ll ask just one more question. Why has Phongor taken this interest in me?” “You’ll have to ask him that yourself.” “That isn’t very likely to happen. Is it because he wants something from me? Or is it simply that he wants to subvert whatever Adramalech has? Am I a toy to be played with, Xi? Is that how he sees me?” “Perhaps,” Xi shrugs. “Who can say what goes on in the minds of mandevils?” Jinx grins, swimming over to the edge of the pool to soak her clothing. “When I first met him I thought it was some sort of test. Then, after I left his labyrinth of horrors, I wondered if perhaps this is all a sport between the two of them. At Mephisto’s banquet, Adramalech simply let me walk outside, knowing that Phongor would follow, knowing that he would probably make some sort of play. If it was anything other than sport, then why would Adramalech do that?” “Perhaps he was preoccupied.” Jinx nods, remembering the plight of Bensozia and quietly surmising that Xi must have been to some of these banquets herself.

“I can only serve one master at a time,” Jinx finally states. “To attempt anything else would be foolish, and sooner of later, it would land me in Phongor’s lap, or…should I say, it could lead to me becoming one of his chairs. No disrespect to you.” “None taken.” “Perhaps that’s exactly what he wants. Perhaps that’s what both of them want, for I think that either would have me tortured before getting upset at one another. Fewer consequences that way, don’t you think?” “You seem to have this all figured out,” Xi replies. “So I take it you won’t be needing any Styx water for the road?” “That’s correct.” “As you wish. Although I should warn you now, while you have this moment of privacy, someday you will come to understand what it means to be watched tirelessly by eyes that you can never see.” “Perhaps. But so far, I’ve been treated pretty well, and I’m more than willing to pay my dues to earn their trust. Someday, I hope, this ring will prove unnecessary, and the amulet will be for my convenience, not theirs.” “You are quite naive,” Xi replies. “I wish you luck.”

Dis After the bath, Jinx and Kyna take a room at the Knoll, Xi informing them that the winds of Dis blow in regular cycles and that they are currently in the waning part of their cycle. Within ten or twelve hours, she says, the air will once again be still, and so it comes to pass that after several hours, Jinx & Kyna ride to the gates of Dis, unimpeded by the plane’s often ferocious gales. As it turns out, the winds of Dis may well be a blessing to the inhabitants of its capital city, for its tall, blackened iron walls smoke with a scorching heat while erinyes and other masked shedevils collect entrance tolls at each of the city’s eighteen gates. Even with so many gates, the traffic is still a bottleneck at each. Lined up are devils, tieflings, and a wide assortment of creatures most easily described as monsters: a bizarre throng representing a multitude of races from across the lower planes and even the prime material sphere. Many of them clearly bring merchandise for trade. Others

wear swords on their backs, as though their only means of sustenance is their skill with the blade. Jinx and Kyna fall in with this segment, both of the shedevils glancing about nervously among so many of their own kind who are so very different. Soon enough they are at the front of the line where Jinx pays a toll for them to have access to all the city’s wards for four lesser cycles of the wind, equivalent to a little over a week, and they are each given a brass armband with numbers and symbols etched in the language of mabrahoring. This is locked upon their forearms, and even their nightmares are outfitted with similar bands. Then they are ushered forward with several dozen other visitors into a sort of open air antechamber at least a hundred feet wide where they wait until the first set of gates closes behind them, the second set remaining locked. “Greetings, weary travelers!” a disembodied voice booms from the walls in a cacophony of different languages. “Welcome to the Iron City! We hope your stay is as profitable as it is enjoyable! And if you have an opportunity to commit any crimes, please do not hesitate, for our justice is as swift as the penalty endures! Visitors who break our laws become permanent residents! Now go, and remember this warning, for it shall be your last!” Jinx looks around to gauge the reaction of other people as the second set of gates open and everyone begins trudging forward again. Some look a bit anxious, but others seem almost bored, as though this is all part of a routine which they’ve been through a thousand times before. “Any unusual laws?” Jinx asks one of the bored looking ones, a huge reptilian man carrying a battle axe. He just looks at her and grins. Realizing that he doesn’t seem intent on answering, or that perhaps he didn’t understand the question, she simply turns away, mounting Laertes to get a good view of where everyone is heading. “You already breaks one,” a rather squeaky voice comes from in back of her. It belongs to a rather small frogman6, his eyes so far apart on his skull that he’s having trouble looking at her with both of them at the same time. 6

Actually, a Rhoode. See Mythic Races (published by Fantasy Flight Games), p115-120.

“Unless you is a city guard or a lord or a servant of palace, is bad-wrong to rides one of those that you has.” Jinx looks around to see if she’s been spotted and then quickly dismounts. “Who are you?” “Gopher,” he replies. “I goes for this, goes for that. I goes for lots of stuff.” “You work for somebody, Gopher?” “I always works for my master. I must goes now.” “Wait,” Jinx tells him. “We need a guide. Do you know of anyone?” “You goes to the lions. At the lions you finds anything you wants. I must goes now.” This time he scurries off before she can stop him, and Jinx and Kyna are left to follow the rest of the crowd. Soon they are among the actual buildings of the city, tall expanses of stone and iron which rise up from the narrow streets and often merge together high overhead, blocking out what little illumination falls from the green-grey sky. In such cases, the streets often turn into long dark tunnels, occasionally lit by everburning torches fastened to the walls. However, the brightest source of light comes from towers which are interspersed throughout the city. Fires bellow from them as though they are themselves giant torches, the flames rising up some 50’ above their top levels. These towers have no windows, so the two she-devils can only speculate as to their purpose. As they look around, however, they note that not all of them are lighted. In fact, only a few are, and as they continue walking, a few more “wink out” until there is only a ring of them around the grand palace which continue to burn. As for the streets themselves, they are hot and stinky, like some fetid gutter in a desert city at high noon. The peculiar black iron which forms the walls of Dis seems also to have been incorporated into many of the buildings within the city, and as Jinx and Kyna pass by them, they can sense the walls of various structures radiating fiercely, as though the metal were just pulled from a furnace and hammered into place only a few minutes ago. This hot iron is even used to form the bars of cells which line the streets, pathetic souls whimpering behind them, signs put up: “Don’t feed the rabble”.

Then, of course, there’s the noise. Jinx & Kyna soon pass a work crew of misshapen lemures a few hundred strong tearing up the street even while in the process of rebuilding it, several spinagons cracking whips and jabbing at them with pitchforks to keep them from slacking off. All of this is punctuated by agonized shrieks and mournful wails from various cells lining the streets where other devils are torturing the occupants, or from the lemures themselves when they must physically grab a beam of iron, their “arms” sizzling as they haul it from one end of the street to the other. The next work crew they come across is smaller and unusual insofar as it is composed of humanoids, many of which appear to be half zombified, but others which are quite alive. One human, in particular, stares at the newcomers as they pass, then calls out, “For mercy’s sake…please help me. I don’t belong here! I’ll do anything. Please!” He shuts up as soon as a whip crosses his back, the erinye holding it glancing toward the crowd of visitors to see what attracted his attention. “An extra hour

because of this idiot!” she declares. “And if there’s another outburst, we’ll start over again from the beginning!” Savage words, indeed. Jinx sees his various coworkers glaring at him with hateful eyes. By this point, the newcomers have blended sufficiently with the resident population that Jinx can no longer distinguish those who have just arrived from those who have dwelled in Dis for eons, and soon she is in another line at an internal checkpoint where residents and guests alike walk through a guard station and have their numbers written down by a table of scribes, their passage from one ward to the next recorded for all posterity. While Jinx is in line, beside one of the cells, she sees that the prisoner within is human. All it takes is momentary eyecontact to prompt him to crawl toward her, his fingers blistered by what was no doubt a painful encounter with the cell’s bars. “You’re new here, aren’t you?” “Is it obvious?” she replies. “I could tell from the way you’re looking around. You walk around like that, and you’re going to end up in one of these cages.” “I’m looking for a guide.” “I know all about the city. I’ve been here longer than I care to remember. Tell you what. You get me out of here, and I’ll be your slave.” “And how would I do that?” “Simple. You just offer to buy me from one of the guards.” “Is that legal?” “Not exactly, but as long as you pay a guard and the guard captain, it’s all good.” “Very interesting,” Jinx turns away. “Hey…I know lots of things about this city. You could use me. Heck…a woman like you…I’d let you use me any way you want.” “Don’t flatter yourself.” “I’m just putting it out there. No harm intended.” “Tell me, where are the lions?” “The Lions Quarter?” “Right,” Jinx nods, not sure if that’s what the frogman meant. “Sure thing. Get me out of here, and I’ll take you there.” “Give me directions now, and I might think about it.” “Um…okay…sure, what the hell,” he grins. “That was a pun by the way.” “Directions.” “All business, eh? That’s fine by me.

You just head a mile or two past this station, hang a left when you reach the gates to the estate of Countess Elistra. About five miles past that, you’ll see a bridge over a Black River. Go over it, and try not to breathe. Then, about a mile past that, hang a right at the Avenue of the Artathi. Go to the end of it, and you’ll be there.” “Thanks. By the way, what’s your name?” “Gareth. You gonna get me out of here now?” “No. But I did think about it.” About two hours later, they finally hear the jangle of music off in the distance as well as laughter punctuated with more screaming. “Sounds like a party ahead,” Kyna observes. “Think we’re invited?” “We are now,” Jinx returns while taking out the letter from Adramalech. “Before exploring,” Jinx says while opening the letter and folding it in a manner that exposes only the necessary information, “you should see this. It’s from Adramalech, Mephisto’s Chancellor.” Our Lord finds your peculiarities most pleasing and worthy of reward. Hence, we invite you to continue to occupy these palace accommodations for as long as you might require them. Likewise, the erinye which we have learned now occupies your chamber is to be considered a gift. You may do with her as you please. “‘Our Lord’ is Mephisto,” Jinx informs Kyna. “You may refer to me as Leana when we are alone or with our steeds, but it will be ‘my lady’ in the presence of others.” “I understand.” The temperature cools a bit as they enter a market square, large statues of horned lions cast in bronze standing guard at each of the various arched exits. To their right, wide stairs rise up to a massive mansion built on a hill overlooking the market. To their left, a number of barred pits sink into the ground, various humanoids wandering here and there inspecting the goods. In a way, it reminds Jinx of the slave market at Cheapside where she had purchased and stolen a number of servants prior to ever visiting the Hells. Behind the pits are rows of makeshift tents, and laying behind those is a long building, four floors in height, the first occupied by

shops, and the upper floors appearing to be residences. She can even see laundry hanging over most of the balconies. Up ahead, several bards are playing their instruments as a musical combo, two of them singing, a pot in front of the group with a note in mabrahoring written “donations” (or literally, “payment outside contract”). Past the bards are stalls where various goods are for sale: food, beer, clothing, weapons, trinkets and even artwork. As for the inhabitants, Jinx sees tieflings, humans, half-orcs, some duergar, as well as more unrecognizable sorts. There are also a number of erinyes as well as a larger group of ugly, cloven-hoofed brutes7, wingless, but with thick coarse hair and long horns. They appear drunk and rather boisterous, and most of the planars tend to give them a wide berth. In back of all this rests another four-story building with more laundry-adorned balconies, and beyond that Jinx can make out the edges of what appears to be the upper level of a huge, round structure, its long crescent dotted at intervals with red, glowing urns, each so large as to be visible even at this distance. Just to its left, several miles distant, she can make out what could only be the grand palace, rising upward above the city like a looming vulture and bathed in the crimson light of what must be dozens of fiery towers surrounding it at its feet. “You,” Jinx approaches one of the duergars. “I have worked with your race before; always have they kept their word. I need a guide for this city. One who knows it well.” “I’m merely an ironsmith,” the duergar bows. “If you need a guide, you would do far better to look elsewhere.” “Such as?” “Uh…several of my customers have passes to venture outside the Lion’s Quarter. I could make inquiries tomorrow. Or, if you are in a hurry, perhaps you would do better to visit the Blades of Fate.8 Many of their members 7

Herlekin (Legions of Hell: Book of Feinds, Volume One, p25) 8 I first got on the Internet around November 1989, and among the first articles I read on rec.games.frp were a pair of short stories by a student at the University of Illinois at UrbanaChampaign. The stories concerned Lumekki and her band of adventurers who called themselves the Blades of Fate, and

also have such passes.” “You mean like these?” Kyna shows him her armband. “Oh, I see you have one. Yes, if I were caught beyond the lions without one of those, I’d be pressed into a workgang in no time.” “What is this ‘Blades of Fate’ you speak of?” He points toward the mansion on the hill. “All mannish warriors who enter this quarter and seek work register there with Master Fej. Even if one doesn’t seek work, it is still wise to register and pay dues, as if someone is caught fighting here, and they haven’t paid their dues, bad things are liable to happen to him. No payment, no protection.” “Thank you for your information, ironsmith,” Jinx says while taking five latinum9 from her purse, “you’ve been very helpful.” She places the currency in his hand, and looks toward the mansion. “Looks like we have to register to avoid trouble…unless you think this is a bad idea,” Jinx says while looking at Kyna. “I just wonder if they’ve registered,” she replies, looking toward the drunk devils who are currently forcing one of the vendors to try on various articles of women’s clothing which he’s brought to market. “Let’s not ask.” As the she-devils and their steeds head up the wide stairs on the terraced hill, they first come to a locked gate. “Who goes there?” the gate queries. “We’re visitors.… Hello?” The gate finally opens, as though of its own accord, and Jinx and Kyna proceed up the hill until they hear a voice calling toward them from behind a long, manicured hedge. Straying from the path to investigate, they cut across although I didn’t save these stories at the time, I finally looked them up on google.com’s newsgroup archive a few months ago and was happy to finally be able to read them again. In any case, I thought about what might happen if a successful, plane-hopping adventuring group saw the need for a chain of hospices scattered throughout the planes and decided to fill that void. Would they create something like this? Comments and ideas are certainly welcome. 9 Rarer than gold or platinum, latinum is the most common currency of the outer planes. Of course, I got the name from Battlestar Galactica.

the lawn, finally reaching a shallow pool, protected by a low wall on one side and by the hedges on the other. It is probably big enough for twenty people, but at the moment, only two male tieflings are present, their clothing and scabbards hanging from a row of hooks. Beside the pool are several unlabeled pint bottles, some empty and others still corked with glass stoppers. Further up the hill is the mansion, a yellow banner hanging out front. Upon its surface, knit in black, are two swords crossed at their hilts, each leaning against the other, and between them, an eye. The mansion itself is three floors with a central tower rising up an additional floor. Torches light the balconies, but nobody is in view save for the two tieflings in the pool. “Ladies,” one of them cries out. “I don’t suppose that we could be of…service?” Jinx studies them for a bit. “It seems that bathing is a common practice on this plane.” “You bet your sweet ass it is. What do you want?” “Where is Master Fej?” “What do you want with him?” “We need to register, pay dues, and find a guide who is knowledgeable about this city and its inhabitants. If you can help us with that, then you will have done us a great service.” He makes a quizzical grin, “Let me get this straight. You’re both freewalkers?” “As free as can be.… Does that surprise you?” “Well, I don’t know about you, but your friend there looks like an erinye. I’ve never known erinyes to be freewalkers.” Jinx, realizing that her face is largely covered by her cloak, raises her eyes a bit higher so the inquisitor can see a bit more of her shadowed appearance. “You are correct with your assumption that I’m not an erinye. As far as your other concern, she isn’t necessarily a freewalker; she works for me. I work for someone else, the ‘someone else’ being irrelevant. Perhaps that is odd for Dis, but it’s not odd from where we are from, that also being irrelevant. With that known, is Fej available? We would like to expedite our registration.” “Fej isn’t here. Perhaps I can help you. Hand me that towel over there.” Jinx looks toward Kyna, then tilts her head towards the towel. The erinye

complies, sneaking a “peek” at this guy’s equipment as he climbs from the pool to accept the towel. Of course, he notices. “Yes, that’s my whatchamacallit10,” he smiles. “Being an erinye, one would think that you’ve seen a few.” “Never one so small.” “Very funny. I just came out of a cold pool. We were escaping the heat.” She rolls her eyes, “Whatever.” “I assure you, it is fully functional.” “I prefer man-sized entertainment, thank you.” He simply smiles for a pregnant moment. “I will enjoy having you…as a guest of the blades. Follow me.” He heads further up the stairs, Kyna pausing to let Jinx ascend ahead of her. Jinx can’t help but notice the smile on her lips, and Kyna gives her a quick wink as she passes by. Once at the mansion, the tiefling leads them into a lobby from which they can see two landings for the next two floors as well as a staircase which leads up as well as down to what must be the basement. There are also dogs inside the front door which start barking as soon as they enter, but he waves his hand at them, and they soon calm down. As for people, there is only a young lady and an old man on either side of a table. They appear to be playing some game which Jinx has never seen before, and from the look on the girl’s face, the old man appears to be winning. “Harvey, we have guests.” “Eh?” The old guy looks up. “Oh my,” he blinks once or twice when he sees Kyna’s leathery wings. “Are we being inspected again?” “No, they wish to register.” “You don’t say. Now do you know about our rules?” He looks at the blank expression on Kyna’s face, then shrugs. “Never mind, I’ll explain. Blades of Fate is basically a consortium of freewalkers. We set up outposts throughout the planes, nine others so far, but we’re growing, and we basically provide wanderers with a relatively safe place to catch some shuteye and maybe even some grub if they’re well disposed to what we serve. Now, in Dis, we’ve also been given authority to patrol this quarter and keep the bad elements under control. The erinye guard still supersede our authority, but they generally stay 10

Just a little something for the ladies. Remember who loves ya, baby. -

out of our business unless we need help. In return, we like to take a good, hard look at every basher who enters the quarter. Now, where did you say you ladies were from?” “Well…we didn’t,” Jinx returns. “However, I’ve seen a bit of the Abyss, and a few places in Baator other than Dis. I’ve been in fights, but not recently, and none of any significance. I’ve seen planes having a sun, planes completely black and cold, and planes like this, and even more, but I don’t wish to bore. I have no real home, so where I’m from is hard to answer. I have abodes, however, but that’s because I pay my rent, swing a good sword, and shake a nice ass11, which I’m assuming is what you meant when you said ‘we like to take a good, hard look at every basher who enters the quarter.’ At least, that’s what I hope ya meant.”

“Ah…precisely,” he smiles. “You must forgive us what with all these questions. It’s not too often that one meets a true wanderer. What of your names?” He reaches into a drawer and goes shuffling for some papers. “Oh, I see you wear guest passes. That’s always good,” he remarks, jotting down the symbols on each. “My name is Malina12, and this is Kyna,” Jinx says while putting her hand on Kyna’s shoulder. Usually we’re both 11

Yes, Jinx actually said this. I couldn’t believe it either. 12 For some odd reason, Jinx hates to introduce herself as Jinx. Touch of paranoia, if you ask me. Probably has something to do with having been watched by demons for a good chunk of her life. In any case, Malina’s a drow she initially met in Tartarus (a.k.a. Carceri).

addressed as princess or queen, but we plan to dispense with such nonsense formalities here. We’re on vacation.” “A long overdue vacation, and yes, tired of such formalities,” Kyna adds. “Absolutely,” Jinx echoes, “and your name is…” “Harvey…Harvey of Hookhill on Oerth. You see, that’s more or less what we’re trying to learn. I mean, after all, there are probably a triple score thousand Harveys wandering about, but how many are from Oerth, and how many from Hookhill in particular? Probably a few, but not terribly many. Now, you say that you’re vacationing royalty?” He bows slightly. “Where from?” Jinx removes her cloak’s hood, exposing the blackened veins that make a web of her face.13 “I am Malina of Malsheem on Nessus, as of recent, and this is Kyna from the same. We are here to explore Dis because we felt it would be a neat thing to do; the rest is irrelevant.” Harvey blinks for a moment as though trying to process the information. Finally, he shuffles from the drawer what look to be a pair of identical papers, “rules of conduct” according to their titles; however, the guy from the pool puts a hand on his shoulder. “Harv, do you think those are really necessary?” “If we’re being tested, they certainly are.” He smiles, handing Jinx the papers. Near the top is a phrase in Mabrahoring, “Diabolus Servio Irritus”14 which basically means “Does not apply to the Servants of Devils”. It occurs to Jinx that this is probably also another way of saying that the rules apply only to freewalkers. The rules, such as they are, 13

The reason behind the blackened veins is that Jinx recently visited one of the quasi-negative planes in order to acquire new abilities of her class, and every time she does this, in takes a fair amount of time for her to recuperate. Normally, she can just use a polymorph to mask her true appearance, but unfortunately the brass armband placed upon her at the city gates is retarding that magic. No doubt, the rulers of Dis don’t want visitors polymorphing into every sort of creature imaginable. 14 So the devil-tongue is based on Latin. I’d think you’d have seen enough bad horror movies that this shouldn’t come as a great surprise.

pertain to matters such as murder, assault, robbery, torture, non-contractual enslavement, unprovoked barbarity and the like, all occurring within the “Lion’s Quarter”. There is also a section on trade and commerce, establishing a 5% sales tax on goods and services sold in the quarter, as well as a 5% tax on “seized earnings” occurring throughout the plane of Dis. There is also a codicil which promises that the undersigned, while in the quarter, will come to the aid of the quarter guard when called upon to do so, as well as submit to punishment met out by the local authority. Down below it is a line for a signature along with that of a witness. There’s also a folded up newspaper sitting on the edge of the table (http://www.theonion.com/onion3734/ hijackers_surprised.htm).15 Harvey motions for Jinx and Kyna to sit down and read through the rules, chatting with the guy from the pool as they do. “So how are the blue stones working?” “Keeping it nice and cool, thank you. Although I still think having the pool out in front is a bit unseemly. We should have put it back behind the house and left the worm pond alone.” “It wasn’t my decision.” “Well, no. I know whose decision it was. Incidentally, these two mentioned that they’re looking for a guide.” “A guide?” “You know anyone who’s looking for some honest work?” Harvey turns toward the human woman sitting with him. She’s in her early 30’s with a long mane of red hair. “Well, Gwyr16…you did say something about being destitute.” “Oh,” she shakes her head, “I’m not sure I’d make a terrific guide.” “Why not? You’ve certainly been here long enough.” “Well, I s’pose it depends on what they want to see.”

“Nothing shy of everything worth seeing and not seeing,” Jinx says with a smile. “Show us where the locals frequent, both elite and common. Assist in keeping us out of trouble, but don’t keep us from those places that regularly enjoy trouble. Hopefully, we can protect ourselves as well as you, if need be.” “That’s always the problem,” Gwyr replies, picking up a double-headed axe which has been sitting propped up against a leg of the table, hoisting it over her back and donning a long gauntlet which comes complete with shoulder guard and a spiked bracer. Jinx also recognizes that the symbol on Gwyr’s shoulder guard places her as a member of Prince Tamlin’s army back on the world of the emerald serpent.17 Either that, or she scavenged her armor from someone who was. “Given your appearances,” Gwyr continues, “I don’t think anyone will be insane enough to try to pick a fight…aside from the occasional slumming nobility. No offense. Since you’re apparently privacy-conscious, how would you have me introduce you?” “Malina and Kyna will do.” “Malina and Kyna,” Harvey leans toward them, “would either or both of you be interested in a room?” “Do you take latinum?” “Oh…we most certainly do.” I recently released Rand, a random stuff generator to help GMs come up with ideas for their campaigns as well as their gaming worlds. The program is built for MS-DOS, but it also runs under Windows.

http://www.elektrasystems.net/ ~jimv/rand.htm Rand has tables for alien generation, fantasy realm generation, old-style AD&D dungeon generation, random dockside encounters, and a makeshift fantasy character background generator. And adding new tables is pretty easy once you get the hang of it. Sometimes the results it pops out are a bit odd, but that’s all part of the charm. It can’t write your adventures, but it can sure give you ideas.

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Thought this was classic. Hopefully the address still works. 16 Lee sold me some items once owned by the late A&Eer, Elizabeth Wolcott, and in the bottom of the box was one of her old character sheets, the character in question being Gwyr. Although I never met her, I thought that Elizabeth might have appreciated her character being recycled for use in this campaign.

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Which just so happens to be the world where Jinx was born and raised. Do let us know if you’d be interested in hearing the story of her early years.