Noon 16 Hammer

Plane of Fire

The sharp smell of sulfur and burning is overpowering, and immediately the sensation of pain from heat is all consuming.  All metal immediately becomes hot to the touch, increasing in intensity each round.  Parchment is wilting and beginning to smoke, and even the cloth of your non-magical vestments is parching under the elemental assault.

The air is a mix of smoke, and the dancing wisps of flame of every color.  What little oxygen there is for breathing hits your lips and mouths super heated, almost choking with each breath.

Only DonBrapp is immune to this, his ruff serving as protection.

Behind you, a fiery pool of lava bubbles beneath a flow that shimmers with a magical vaporous outline.  As the lava flows to the south, it appears to pour through the vaporous outline into an unseen location.

Although the soot and smoke-filled air is muffled with particulates, animated guttural voices can be heard to the east, and the sky is punctuated with the distant sounds of muffled explosions.

DonBrapp surveys the lava flow and is confident the forges of Hillsafar are lit.
“Ye all need know it twas Quilro’s fault who caused this!  Never should’ve let me deal with an infernal!”  The cleric mutters.

The area is bound by basalt canyon walls that rise above a coarse beach of ground coal and soot, almost a fiery beach.  Rounded volcanic boulders mark positions of cover near the valley walls, with paths to the north and east.

Kailute notices a set of demi-human footprints that head off to the east, shorn in a boot of some sort.

Durnkin is taking in the plane of fire, uncomfortable but not terrified.

“Where to, Coinfather?”  Durnkin asks.

“The best thing for you to do, Durnkin is return me hammer.”  The smith switches out his weapon for a magical smithy’s tool.

The thieves follow the tracks to the northeast in between two sloping boulders, behind which a crouched, brass-skinned dwarf creature with flame red hair looks at you with a mix of fear and disdain.

“Hail thee, Oriothar.”

“Hail cousins.  We approach in friendship.”  Durnkin steps forward to offer introductions, explaining that DonBrapp and his company have cleared the Halls, and used their magic with the favor of Vergadain to relight the forges, once again establishing a direct portal connection the plane of fire.

“Forgemaster, is it truly you?” The brass skinned dwarf speaks of the ice devil invasion, and how their common folk were slaughtered in an attempt by their lord effreeti Gaurgathar, who enjoys trickery and conniving within the prime material.

The azer beg assistance in overthrowing this efreeti, in exchange for releasing their ally Feglolos.

Quilro steps forward to negotiate a deal to ensure elemental fire magic is used to arm the citizens of the valley.

“So, if we get Frodo back;  apologies, my dwarf is terrible.” He slides a side eye toward Fyrnlocke to see if he gets it.  “…and overthrow this demon, I think we should speak actual terms here.”

He tilts his head at DonBrapp “I think I’ve learned a thing or two from his ledgering and counting.  Better to get the numbers settled ahead of time.”

“The gods of flame do not usually smile upon fey creatures such as you.  So easily do their temples and dwellings burn. Brother dwarves know the strength of rock and stone, even if they cannot taste the glory of the fire.  We are happy to assist.”

The elf turns to allow the dwarves to speak amongst themselves and whistles a happy hafling tune, although the superheated air burns at his lips like the last ember of pipeweed.

Durnkin advises DonBrapp that no better skilled smiths for fire magic or fire protection than the azer, and the cleric nods “Ye heed me at magical armor.”

The basalt tower of Gaurgathor lies in the valley to the northeast.  As a result of the ice devil invasion, Gaurgathor took power in the basalt tower and ruthlessly resisted them by sending the azer to their death.

The azer share their innate ability to travel through fires magically, with specific enthralled stones that can teleport in specific flame portals within the basalt tower.  A liquid bronze-like pouch is produced and eight marble sized rubies are handed to DonBrapp.
“Speak ‘AUFGAR!” and the ruby will take you through the fire.

DonBrapp affirms the previous agreements, and agrees to the azer’s offer of support.  He inquires about the liquid metal and is told it is a skill unique to the azer to smith with nonthar, a liquid bronze alloy that is yet almost as strong as mithril.

It is understood the azer are also capable of smithing and dwoemer weapons easier and faster than the dwarves native to the Realms.

The sounds of muffled shouts and screams of unpleasant activity is barely perceptible to the east.

DonBrapp invites the azer to offer anything they know of the attenuarium, and they look on with awe as it thrums and brightens the inner light of rubies of fire plane shifting.
“Looks like elvish work, given the light and small moving parts.  Work of a fey creature;  fragile but impressive.”  They recognize similar magic between it and the rubies.  They then depart to report their findings to the basalt tower.

The azer agree to provide a map that shows where the rubies possibly travel to in open fires within the tower.

The party conducts reconnaissance of the northern valley, observing another magma flow and a fire salamander bathing on the coal dust shore.

Basalt Tower

The tower itself rises directly from the smooth igneous rocks that make up the steep valley walls.  The only entrance appears to be enormous rectangular doors, towering 18’ into the air.  There are no windows inside, although hundreds of feet to the top crenellated battlements are backlit by random conflagrations in the smoke-filled sky.  The tower rises 150’ above the valley, flanked by nearly vertical glassy panes of rock.

DonBrapp instructs all to make a conga line, with Fyrnlocke gripping Kailute with some fear.  He holds the attenuarium aloft in front of him, and the gelatinous feeling of heat is all consuming before the party pushes through the lava and in front of the urn that feeds the forges of Hillsafar hall.

The forges all swell with red-hot magma, filling the forging tables.  Durnkin immediately sets the assembled dwarves to work gathering ore and setting to smithing the weapons and tools necessary to repair the halls.