3 AM 30 Hammer: Asus Solar of Celestia
DonBrapp calls forth a magical meal of sustenance for the dragon, who quickly falls into a nap after gorging.
The elves discuss the magical limitations of polymorph within the enchanted demonic rock. A quick inspection of the dragon’s library reveals a mix of rather ancient, mostly dwarven clerical spells. Some drow spells, but not as many. It looks like what you surmise is what the demons and. Great dwarfs put together as an assemblage of spell books that weren't really helpful for the Red Dragon because there are only a couple scrolls with draconic markings on them, and it doesn't have what it appears to be. Full access to what you would consider a draconic spellbook.
Polymorph other, but you don't see polymorph self. You suspect this Dragon's book is not here. It's just been given the bare minimum to keep its sanity and its wits about it.
The wyrm looks on with disdain as the party inspects the dragon’s hoveled hoard; a modicum of spellbooks and items to keep the wyrm from going insane underground but well below the amount of treasure a similar dragon might have.
Dextharos further shares that Zengyhi was once also the Thayvian Zulkir of Necromancy; “the first deep scholar of the field I only know what fever dreams are told to me by the elves who come through at the end of their lives and here, and they speak of the beauty of Pzarr and her enjoyment of malice and the pain of others, but she serves Zsass Tam, the current Zulkir. Zengyhi gave himself fully over hundreds of years ago, and his growing power makes the Red Wizards… uncomfortable.”
“Wow, you think you may not be doing that on the work of someone? Where is it? Where told you began your journeys? The elves, the High Elves. They speak and they know do they not? Who is it that feeds? Me my sumptuous heals it here as I wait. And assist. Open for salvation” The dragoness rambles on, a touch of insanity inflecting her reedy voice...
…and suddenly there And with that there's a warmth an powerful quiet that suddenly points everyone in the chamber at calm and ease. The attention is pulled to a glowing light surrounding the magical appearance of a humanoid, slightly larger than human and perfectly rippled with muscles and winged. A bluish tinge marks the creature’s flesh which also has tones of bronze. The hair of the creature is a metallic bronze, and its eyes are pools of pure cobalt blue.
“Ah, Dextharos. You have completed your tasks and it is clear. We now have a complement of heroes here. They have far exceeded what we could have expected, and it is our intent to solicit from them even more assistance.”
“It is our privilege.” Quilro turns and offers an informal half-curtsy.
“How can we free the wyrm? Will a polymorph magick suffice?” the thief mage asks.
“If that is within your capabilities, it should prove successful. The cursed stone is what mostly shields the weave within this unholy monstrosity.” The voice is pure, as if freshly struck tones from a bell and it speaks directly into the mind of each of the heroes in their native tongue, but all are aware of the communications with each other.
Quilro polymorphs Dex into a ravishing red-haired elven woman, who now has a smile on her lips and a twinkle in her green eyes.
“And I thank thee for it.”
“And who do I have the pleasure of entreating with?”
“You may call me Asus of Celestia. I know the hall where Clangeddin Bearded sleeps, as his forges remain silent because of his exhaustion. Vergadain hides and plots from below the mountain, but such indulgences are not for us. We have little use for the discordance born of the the hand of the father of tricks.”
DonBrapp steps forward with a mild air of defensiveness.
“I mean no discordance, I mean only to return the blood, the flow of Bloodstone. Out of out of these vines through the valley and back into Damara and the lands southwest beyond the Moonsea.”
“It is known as is your names. Throughout not only this area, but through the region of the realms, while the dark ones rise in the west, it is known now that there is a force not beholden to the elves, not beholden to the demons that once lay asunder the halls of Oriothar and Bloodstone. And those who have come forth and struck, perhaps? The rise of an undead Kingdom in the Northeastern Mountains. The Heroes of Waymeet are returning a balance to a virgin land that recently has only known the advance of darkness and most recently turned back. An unholy summons that would have rendered forth upon this plane. Things I can't and won't speak of.” Asus speaks.
“Yeah, we're pretty good. Well, what's the next? What do we have to do?”
The solar describes the overall situation in the region, and expresses their deep concern in the rise of an undead army lead by a lich seeking to enable Orcus to walk the prime. He indirectly affirms the interest of the elvish and gnomish pantheons, but acknowledges he cannot speak for either deities.
The power accrued by Zengyhi is a concern not only for those who walk the primes, but also all manner of good gods, while the pantheon of death; Bane, Myrkul, and Auril seek to further establish the primacy of their dark followers.
The marriage of a noble blooded human to the Prince of Undead was a machination of Grazz’t to lure Orcus away from the Abyss, enabling a powerful fight for the throne using the connection to the prime material strife as a hunting ground for souls in the blood war. Further, another unknown power group resides among the Galena mountains, observing and reporting the information to any who will pay in the Moonsea.
As Asus relays the details of the meta-planar impacts, DonBrapp remains focused on loot. “We can still get the tapestries.” He says to himself, brow furrowed.
“So what gifts does Asus of Celestia? Have to aid us in our quest?” The dwarf asks, snapping out of his concentration.
The solar is able to protect the heroes in a pocket opening to Celestia, one of the outer planes. Time will slow, but the group will be able to heal and rest.
The heroes step through a rift and onto a marble stone balcony that overlooks a breathtaking mountainside. Magical steeds of metallic fur appear to frolic and race amongst tall grass, while other humanoid workers appear to toil happily beneath a bright sky.
DonBrapp marvels at the near perfect stonework, while the elves take in a fair approximation of what heaven would look like if rules were viciously enforced. The half-orc is put off by the levitating nature of the structure, but also feels utterly comfortable. It is clear that this is a good, aligned place of law and order.
“You shall all be healed; can I offer the courtesy of a blessing or boon?”
DonBrapp can feel the attenuarium is thrumming mildly, as if pulling the positive energy of the plane into the backpack. The dwarf believes the relic is orienting itself and determining a cosmic planar location.
After basking in the view, a small squad of grey gnomes assemble and report on the contents of the treasury in the unholy temple. The party relaxes and discusses their plans.
