In his scant few hours of sleep Alias dreamed of a ruby shining from within a waterfall, he failed to decipher the meaning of this imagery but he recognized that it was prescient. The Prophet struggled to recall the fading remnants of his dream but it was like catching smoke – all he could remember were the words, “Seek for the source of the Liquid of Life, Delve into the dark for the secret of the light.”
Alias’ dream may well have been prescient, but the Prophet’s mind was still whirling with unanswered questions and he could make no sense of Shoshanna’s message. The three decided to seek out the Green Wizard of Yhakkoth, in the hope that he could shed any light on the riddles and help them to find the light that would drive back the darkness.
They retraced their steps once more through the dark temple and returned to a dark dawn on the streets of Yhakkoth. What remained of the cities’ population were gathered in the Market Square – or as close to it as they could get. The few desperate faces that they saw as they hurried toward the Green Tower were devoid of any hope.
The mist had encroached upon the city. The walls were lost and undefended. Lord Phalanx, the God-King was fighting a delaying action against the Fallen angels within the mist, but his men could not throw them back.
They arrived at the base of the Green Tower even as the black mist was brushing against it. Quickly they climbed the exterior steps that took them to the peak of the tower hundreds of feet above the city skyline. From that vantage the three could see the ink blot of evil that had swallowed the city of Yhakkoth.
Once inside the tower they found the Green Wizard, Zharr. He was a tall Fey man with red-silver hair and golden eyes. A scarlet jewel blazed from the crown on his forehead and a shifting radiance fell from his caballistic robes. Quickly Alias and Quin laid out everything that they knew about the darkness and the Fallen Angels.
Their discussion was disturbed frequently as the wizard continually entered a spell casting trance in order to defend the Green Tower from the angels attacking outside, but, despite the distractions, Zharr quickly reasoned through the riddle. The Liquid of Life is water – especially in the desert – and in the city the main place to draw water from is The Falls and Ruby Street well.
Their mind made up they quickly began to withdraw even as the darkness tried to take the wizard. Zharr stiffened as a black viscous oily fog began to drip from his eyes, ears, nose, from his mouth and to blacken the robes about his pelvis.
“It comes. Leave.” The wizard cried.
Alias did what he could to bolster the failing wizard with prayers, but there was nothing else that could be done and they fled. Once back on the streets they rushed with all haste to the well at the intersection of Falls and Ruby Streets.
The streets were deserted, the wall of mist and the Fallen Angels were almost upon the well. Quin was able to divine an area of strong protective magic part way down the well-shaft. They quickly climbed down the shaft and discovered a holy rune on the flagstones that threatened a wrathful destruction to any who disturbed it – but it opened at the touch of Alias, the Prophet.
Beyond the rune a white marble featureless passage stretched away to a distant point of light.
Above them the dark mist reached the well head and began to pour, like a thick oil into the well. The three hurried into the passage way, with tendrils of numbing blackness reaching for their ankles as they rushed along.
The Fallen Angels summoned shadows to block their passage, and then a pack of diseased hell hounds and a painshrieker demon emerged out of the darkness to behind them. The battles were fast and deadly and victorious.
Quin, Alias and Rhea found themselves in a circular arched chamber with the source of the Light. A blindingly bright, white light that hovered burning in the chamber. This was Heaven’s power, Shoshanna’s power. A gateway to the Heaven’s. Even Anwen’s witch was humbled, falling to her knees and begging for Anwen’s forgiveness as she was struck dumb by the power of Shoshanna.
Alias and Quin were likewise dumbfounded and as the urgency built, Rhea leaped into the white flames of Heaven. Anwen’s witch was instantly transformed into Shoshanna’s Lightchild, an Angel of Light. With Alias and Quin flanking her, Rhea marched back along the passage – the darkness repelled and retreating at her approach.
The hordes of evil within the darkness did everything in their dark power to prevent the Lightchild from returning to the city but they could not stop her. Once they had regained the streets they made their way quickly toward the Market Square where the City-Gods were fighting a futile final stand against the hellish invaders – the population cowering about their rulers and the burning pentacle of living flesh that still hovered above them.
The Lightchild emerged from Heroes Street, flanked by Alias the Prophet and Quinvera the Tall. The only light in the entire city came from the Lightchild as she made her way to the Temple of Yhakkoth where the darkness was at its blackest.
The Lightchild paused at the steps of the temple, bathing the citizenry and City-Gods alike in a fresh hope. She directed Alias and Quin to follow her no further, but to remain behind and see that the True Word of Shoshanna is never forgotten.
Alias realized that Rhea was taking the Light into the Temple and that it would never return again so bright. He wanted to follow, Rhea cautioned that if he followed there would be no return and she entered the Temple. The Prophet paused on the steps, undecided and awed, but there was no time for indecision.
As Rhea, the Lightchild, entered the Temple it darkened along with the sky for several long and terrifying moments. Then, with a crackling power and a blindingly intense flash of light, it blasted from the Temple doorway, across the Market Square and into the Dark; spreading, leaping from house to house, person to person, street by street until the whole city was ablaze with white heavenly fire.
Around the town walls, the Dark rose higher, drawing greater power to itself before making a last effort and once more tumbling over the city walls and sweeping once again into the Market Square. The Light, once more, flared up striking the senses from everyone within Yhakkoth.
When Alias and Quin awoke, they were prostrate upon the steps of the ruined Temple. The City-Gods themselves, and the surviving population of the city were laying strewn across the Market Square slowing awakening from the nightmare.
Behind the Temple, the morning sun was rising on a new dawn, a new beginning for the city of Yhakkoth.
Of the darkness, of the Fallen Angels and of the Lightchild there was no sign.
Adapted by Ian Hewitt from the adventure Irilian by Daniel Collerton
Alias, Prophet of Anaru (Doug Harris)
Quinvera the Tall (Donna Hewitt)
Rhea the Witch (NPC)
Game Master (Ian Hewitt)
Played at the tabletop in Laramie, Wyoming