Around the perimeter of the strange room of metal, stone? were opals equal distance at shoulder height. Nameroc knew something was up, the chemical smell could only be acid and this was a trap or an ambush and he hated super villain speeches. He began casting his wall of fire spell and flames began to rise from the floor engulfing Osric Gemdelver and cutting him short.
Osric’s voice rang out, strangely amplified, “Chaotic Gold…. You’ve followed the breadcrumbs I’ve laid out for you and delivered the blood of Stoneheart, right on time. Now it’s time to die.” And with a sinister glint from the flames flickering in his eye as he slapped the nearest opaline button and the room lurched. Something was very wrong.
The stench filled Zaila's nostrils, acrid and burning, as the sickly green light pulsed across all of those present in the room. Panic surged through her, the jitters twisting in her gut, a side effect of the infernal corruption plaguing the area. Osric, that vile dwarf, had vanished after triggering some kind of awful trap before slinking away like a coward, his clothes igniting as he fled..
Thorne was separated from them by an invisible wall, the air thick with the sizzle of flesh meeting acid as it ate away at their boots. Clutching her holy symbol, Bry slammed it forward, desperate to dispel the magic holding Thorne prisoner. Her spell fizzled uselessly.
A frantic exchange of glances between Zaila and Nameroc told the story. With a burst of inspiration, Zaila sang a quick melody, her voice strong despite the terror clawing at the edges of their minds.
With tusks of might and thunderous tread,
Nameroc the beast, this wall shall be dead!
Nameroc, with a snap, transformed into a mighty elephant and together, they pushed against the barrier. Zaila, her strength bolstered by her magic girdle, lent her elven form to elaphantine bulk, and with a groan and a shower of shards, the wall gave way.
But their respite was short-lived. The acid was relentless, and Pimzin threw caution to the wind. Seeing the answer before any of them, with a twist of her wrist, she ripped a hole in reality itself, stepping through to the other side of the remaining barrier. From there, she reached for the glowing button, her voice strained as she yelled back, "There are six! Six buttons. We need all six at once!"
Zaila used her misty step to bridge the distance and join Pimzin. Thorne, Dr. Blackheart, and Bry each slammed their hands on a button, the opaline stone scorching hot beneath their palms. Nameroc, bless his leathery hide, understood the situation perfectly. With a mighty heave, he slammed his considerable backside into the final button and the world lurched again.
The green lights died, the awful clanging stopped, and the invisible wall dissolved. They were safe, for now, but Osric and that wretched Beatrix had escaped. Anger, hot and righteous, bubbled up alongside the relief flooding their veins. They had to give chase.
There was only one path forward, deeper into the heart of Mithril Hall, and that's where Zaila's sharp eyes caught a glint of magical light. Bry, with a feeling of recognition, knew this to be the great hall, and they called at halt to make a plan.
Bry subdued her jitters and made to call on her god, Helm. They had twice paid him respect by climbing the Celestial Stairs and he had removed the demon Orthanx that had possessed her for so long. But she missed the strength he provided and she implored Helm to grant her that same strength, one last time. She felt and saw blue sparks like static electricity race across her chainmail and smiled. “Thank you.”
And a plan was born. The Gemdelver’s seemed very interested Bryllin Stoneheart, so Pimzin, the arcane trickster would make sure there were extras on hand. She disguised herself as Bry and then invoked duplicity so that now three Stonehearts stood shoulder to shoulder, each indistinguishable from the other.
Dr. Blackheart cast longstrider on the true dwarf to grant her extra speed and Zaila cast a veil of invisibility on Bry, the true target of their enemies and then there were two.
Rising out of the gloom stood a monumental ziggurat, a dark monolith pulsing with arcs of purple energy, illuminating metallic guardians patrolling its angles. A guttural growl echoed from below, a monstrous bear guarding the stairway midway up its 120 foot length. This was the great cavern, but all of the earlier works of dwarven artisan were destroyed and replaced by the ziggurat
From within, voices rose in a cacophony of incantation, preparing for the inevitable battle. Nameroc, back in human form, unleashed a ferocious fireball that slammed into the pyramid's peak, scorching the leadership and many of the robotic defenders. Pimzin, disguised as Bry through clever magic, conjured a duplicate image to draw the enemy's attention.
The black ziggurat loomed menacingly. Zaila and Thorne, following the fake Bry (Pimzin’s duplicate), ascended the stairs with the bear charging towards them, its roars echoing through the cavern. The duplicate Bry was simply not there as the bear swiped at it, revealing the ruse to those astute enough to see through the chaos. Nameroc the hippy with the fireball stick was bearing the brunt of their attention andhe took a customized crossbow bolt to face temporarily blinding him. He cast heal word to restore his vision though his eyes still stung and watered.
And now Bryllin Stoneheart, overcoming her jitters (placing her last in the initiative) with the strength of the gods and speed from spell and magical boot, sprang up the stairs, dodging the hydraulic fluid leaking from the bear as Thorne's arrows found their mark, felling the monstrous guardian. She was in the vanguard now, but only her friends knew this.
Forgeborn swordsmen and Arbalists (crossbow robots) materialized, their metallic forms a testament controlled by Dra. Cybil Veridian. Zaila rained fire from above, her flaming projectile finding its mark on the pyramid's apex, eliciting a shriek of pain from Beatrix. Recognizing Thorne's prowess with the Oathbow, Zaila bolstered his resolve with a bardic flourish.
Through twilight's veil, let squirrelly arrow streak,
Find the chink in Osric’s armor, and the heart you seek.
The arbalists unleashed a volley, pinning Blackheart to the base of the ziggurat. True Pimzin, with a halfling's luck, dodged the hail of bolts intended for her.
Osric unleashed an eldritch blast, finding its mark on Thorne with minimal effect. Dr. Veridian, the enemy leader, launched a flaming sphere at the ranger and as the heroes ascended the stairs it was clear their hit points were slowly dwindling under the relentless assault. It was an uphill battle
Bry, still invisible, reached the summit and channeled divine power, unleashing a guardian spirit. But Beatrix, with a desperate counterspell, stopped the magic before it could take hold.
Wiping the involuntary tears from his eyes, Nameroc unleashed a cloud of deadly gas (Cloudkill), unfortunately enveloping Bry in its noxious fumes. Blackheart, from a distance, managed to mend some of the damage with a healing word. Oaths were muttered, small mistakes could add up.
Forgeborn swordsmen swarmed Thorne, but with a surge of wind magic, he propelled himself up the final stretch, dispatching the last two arbalists with his oathbow. Zaila, teleporting in short bursts, joined the fray on the upper tiers.
Bry, now visible thanks to Beatrix's magic, stood face-to-face with Osric. A private smile played on the vampire's lips as he spotted the hydraulic fluid dripping forming bootprints. He swung at disadvantage, missing his mark, but shocking Bry at his speed and number of attacks (3/rnd).
Frida, the enemy cleric was depleted from her battle against the townsfold, but she still had spell slots and, unleashed a fiery torrent on Thorne, who managed to dodge the brunt of the attack. Beatrix, wielding a potent spell, nearly struck Thorne down, draining his life force. Feeling the power of Helm surge through her, Bry called upon the god's strength, her axe imbued with divine energy this time clean and pure, she felt her limbs strengthen to STR 25.
Lifted by the wind magic, Thorne sought the final, decisive shot with his oathbow, but Osric was unnaturally gifted and pursued, landing blow after blow on the elusive archer.
Zaila attempted to take down Beatrix with her longbow of certain death, but the cunning necromancer shielded herself. Frida inflicted further wounds on Zaila with a dark curse of the Harm Spell. At this point Zaila was below 38 HP.
Frida summoned a monstrous zombie ball, arms and legs propelling it forward towards the bard. Zaila barely managed to avoid being grappled and involuntarily rolled down the stairs, but now she was down to 20 HP. Recognizing this menace, Bry brandished her Axe now a symbol of Helm and the entire zombie ball fell to dust.
In a desperate gambit, Beatrix cast a timestop spell, buying herself precious moments to heal and bolster her defenses. But no one noticed. She simply had 4 rounds to do what she needed (namely bolster her defense, cure and complete a ritual and remove invisibility from Bry).
Bry, no longer invisible, continued her relentless assault on Osric. Fueled by divine power she clashed with Osric, landing blow after blow with the Axe of Dumathoin feeling light in her grip. Osric too scored hits drawing blood from her to regenerate himself.
Osric, fueled by vampiric regeneration, redoubled his efforts, his longsword, the Nine Lives Stealer, a terrifying weapon capable of slaying (any creature with fewer than 100HP) with a critical hit. Bry’s armor was proving surprisingly vulnerable to his expert fencing skills and supernatural speed.
Nameroc continued his fiery assault, disrupting their enemies and together with Zaila finished off the remaining robots as Zaila’s Moonblade began to sing a battle song she had not heard before desperate, warning of a terrible change in the very weave of magic itself.
Pimzin joined the fray with a well-timed teleport and help restore hit points to Zaila.
Thorne, battered and bruised, continued to pepper Osric with arrows while maintaining his distance with wind magic.
Beatrix's timeout was turning the tide of battle, but the Mythallar was beginning to expand. As if in celebration she unleashed a maddening darkness that engulfed the chamber, and gibbering laughter from the abyss echoed in their minds, threatening to overwhelm them, if not from madness, then from their inability to see in the dark. Thankfully, Pimzin's beacon of hope spell held, shielding them from the worst of the madness. As quickly as it arrived, the darkness receded, revealing a horrifying sight. Beatrix stood triumphant, a manic glint in her eyes.
"My darling, it is done," she declared, her voice echoing eerily in the chamber.
A chilling sensation washed over them, a sense of nothingness pulling at the very fabric of magic. The anti-magic field, the culmination of their enemies' efforts, had activated. Nameroc's fireball sputtered and died mid-air, a testament to the potent magic dampening effect.
Osric’s longsword of Nine Lives now struck a critical hit on Bry who a heart beat before had 90 some HP, but crumbled to the floor of the ziggurat lifeless after a failed saving throw. Standing over her Osric’s evil grin spread as he looked back to Beatrix.
“The day is one, the final Stoneheart is no more.”
Panic surged through the group. Without their magic, they were vulnerable, their carefully selected spells rendered useless. Pimzin, ever the optimist, rushed to Bry's side, administering a healing potion, but this too failed for no magic would work here and now. She had to resort to a med-kit to stabilize and revive the dwarf.
Pimzin’s illusion of Bry vanished as the anti-magic field touched it, leaving only the real one. Osric, disoriented by the sudden shift in the magical landscape, swung wildly at the empty space the illusion had occupied. It was a moment of vulnerability that Thorne, with surprising strength, capitalized on. He loosed two arrows in rapid succession, one finding its mark and bringing the vampiric dwarf to his knees and then lying motionless on the floor.
But the anti-magic field claimed its next victim. Thorne’s magical periapt of health was lending him 40 temporary hit points and the field engulfed him the strength fell from his legs and he dropped lifeless to the ground.
The field too, stopped Osric from transforming into his mist form upon death. Ordinarily a vampire would turn into a mist and seek to regenerate in his resting place, but this was stopped and he lay still, his body a lifeless husk.
Beatrix shrieked, "No!!! I need you now. Come back!”
She scrambled towards Osric, her love for him overriding any fear she might have felt towards the remaining heroes.
Zaila felt the song of the moodblade cease and magic of the weave leave her. No magic, nothing. Seizing the opportunity, she unleashed a volley of arrows and Beatrix had no defense, no mage armor, no shield, nothihg. The arrows found their mark, striking deep in her torso, but still she persisted.
“We were so close," she cried as she attempted to pull him away from the Halfling and Elf.
Bryllin Stoneheart arose, fuelled by righteous anger. She knew nothing of the missing magic only that Osric’s chest lay exposed before her. She ignored the Pimzin’s ministrations and reached for a wooden stake and a hammer she had prepared for this eventuality.
Stumbling towards Osric's body, she drove the stake (advantage for a prone creature) through his heart, uttering a prayer to Helm. The vampire dwarf's body erupted in a cloud of dust, his essence spreading across the floor.
"No, Osric, my love, I will restore you!" Beatrix rasped, a flicker of defiance still burning in her eyes. And then to the heroes, "You have no idea what you face," she continued, her voice rising in pitch. "The powers you have offended... I will bring him back stronger than ever!"
Nameroc, ever the quick thinker, knew this wasn't the time for indecision, He had one last chance to touch the weave before the radius of the anti-magic field reached him. He transformed into an eagle, the field powerless to affect his natural form. With a mighty screech, he swooped down upon the weakened Beatrix, scattering her threats and delivering a final, non-lethal blow with his talons. She fell forward, her blood mixing with his ashes, a final tear forming and falling.
The heroes stood victorious, battered and bruised, but alive. They had faced unimaginable challenges and emerged triumphant. Yet, the true cost of their victory was yet to be fully understood. The anti-magic field pulsed ominously, a stark reminder of the power they had unleashed.
I’ll write the rest of this with some help from you guys, but in bullet form.
The Mythallar is a menace projecting a field through most of Mithral Hall nullifying any attempt to destroy it. Anything touching it is instantly destroyed.
In Settlestone, Eldemarra and Myria are victorious. They faced off against Frida and ran her out of town…. She ran to the Ziggurat, showing up with depleted spell slots. Her big plan was had a Zombie Corpse ball engulf (Grapple) a character and roll off the pyramid. They would be at the bottom surrounded by Zombies.
Dwarves begin to return from the Diaspora and they want/need a new leader. They are loath to use a form of government with a council because that’s what got them into this mess. They want Bry to take the throne once occupied by Bruenor Battlehammer. She is reluctant.
Time passes and the Mythallar is studied by the greatest minds of the Forgotten Realms. All they can say is this:
It is related to the Mythallar of old, the very once that lifted mountains and made them into floating cities.
But where the old Mythallar offered near unlimited power if only for a short range of 5 miles or so from them. This one seems to be generating and anti-magic shell.
Speculation - Perhaps there is a key that will unlock the potential of this Mythallar.