CLAIMING THE SWORD
In the larger structure of the campaign, this memory dive more or less replaces the Idyllglen visions from Descent Into Avernus, p. 140. Its presentation and function, however, are different.
In the published campaign, the Idyllglen vision is triggered by Lulu’s memories being restored in a burst of magical light. In the Remix, that doesn’t really happen. We’ve put large structures in place for Lulu (and the other PCs) to slowly piece together what was taken from her, but there is no finale where it all magically comes back to her.
This memory dive is instead triggered when a PC moves to claim the Sword of Zariel. Within the Sword is Zariel’s Spark, and this memory dive is basically the Spark showing the PCs’ the long path to the Fall of Zariel.
Structurally it’s more or less doing the same thing for the players: We’re setting up the path to Zariel’s Fall because that’s also the path to her Redemption — if the PCs choose to take that path. (If they don’t, then this simply completes Zariel’s story and reveals the origin of her evil.)
So, a PC reaches for the Sword, there’s a flash of golden light and…
SNIPPET – THE LEGIONS OF HEAVEN: A legion of solars stand at attention, flaming swords held point-down before them. Before them – inspecting them – is another angel. He rides a golden, winged lion. His face shares the fierce, leonid beauty of his mount.
Zariel is there — somehow younger in her timeless beauty. An innocence around her eyes? A naivete? An eagerness?
The mounted angel stops. He speaks, but not to Zariel. To an angel just a little further down the line.
Celestial Marshal: What’s your name?
Chazaqiel: Chazaqiel, Celestial Marshal, of the ninth legion.
Celestial Marshal: Do you know why you are here, young one?
Chazaqiel: Elysium seeks to claim the Avernian paradise!
Celestial Marshal: Thank you, young one.
The winged lion spreads its wings and soars into the sky.
Celestial Marshal (addressing the whole assembly): To glory, my angels! To the emerald plains we’ll soar, and there forge our destiny! The Legions of Heaven shall secure the Eighth Heaven!
A great, golden light grows around the mounted figure, suddenly pulsing with blinding intensity. And then…
GM Note: The Celestial Marhsal is Ashmedai, who shall become Asmodeus.
VISION – THE GREAT BETRAYAL: You find yourselves… flying? Yes, flying on feathered wings through a jungle at night. Somewhere nearby the forest is on fire — a wall of blue flame which sends strange shadows dancing through the writhing foliage. The air is hazed with purple smoke. You’re following another angel, your commanding officer.
“Zariel!”
Another small squad of angels swoops out of the night, led by Chazaqiel. Your commanding officer — who your realize is Zariel —pulls up in midair.
Zariel: Kentarch Chazaqiel! Thank the Heavens! Have you heard from Princeps Sanniel?
Chazaqiel: Sanniel is no longer in command. I am Princeps now.
Zariel: What do you mean? Was she killed in the planar upheaval?
Chazaqiel: No. She turned against the Celestial Marshal.
Zariel: Against Ashmedai? What are you talking about?
Chazaqiel: Things are changing, Hecaton. We are no longer going to be a the plaything dangled between Elysium and Celestia. Ashmedai has claimed Avernus for himself. The great work has just begun. We ride paradise into the jaws of battle!
Zariel: Where?
Chazaqiel: To Hell.
Zariel: This is treason!
Chazaqiel: Don’t be a fool, Zariel! You swore an oath to the Celestial Marshal! Now obey him! Obey us!
Zariel: I swore an oath to Heaven, Chazaqiel. To Heaven above all.
Zariel abruptly draws her sword and attacks! Chazaqiel beats his wings and flies back just out of reach.
[Roll initiative.]
Angelic Rebellion: The PCs are currently solars under Zariel’s command. They use their own stat blocks, but have the hit points, AC, and other abilities of a solar (MM, p. 18).
- Zariel and Chazaqiel both command an equal number of solars. (The PCs are free to choose which side of the conflict to side with.)
- After 3 rounds, there are trumpets from reinforcements nearby. Zariel orders those loyal to her to cut their way free and flee!
The Flight of Blue Fire. Use the rules for chases (DMG, p. 253). Even if the PCs are captured or cut down, Zariel is fated to escape with a small band of other loyalists.
Homework: Develop a chase complications table that features the after effects of the planar upheaval as Avernus plunges through the multiverse.
When the chase comes to an end (either because the PCs have been captured or they have escaped with Zariel), there is a flash of golden light. A voice cries out, “The demon lord flees!” And then…
SNIPPET – FIRST VISIT TO IDYLLGLEN: Zariel is mounted upon Lulu in her golden war mammoth form. A small force of planetars and other celestials are arrayed behind and above them. Across a recent battlefield of torn mud and blood, they are glowering at a deviless mounted upon a dire hellhound and surrounded by a motley gang of demons.
The devil has coppery skin, dark hair, and two curving ram’s horns upon her head. Her lips are curled in a sultry smile that doesn’t touch her tawny eyes.
Zariel: What has brought you to the mortal plane, demon?
Glasya: It seems the same as you, angel. We pursued the demon lord Yeenoghu and followed the foul beast here to his butchery among the humans.
Zariel: And your name?
Glasya: I am Glasya, daughter of Asmodeus.
Several of the planetars surged forward with a strong beat of their wings. Zariel raises her hand to keep them at peace.
Glasya: And yours?
Zariel: Zariel. What are your intentions?
Glasya: Completed, I think. Yeenoghu has slipped through our snare. He has most likely slunk back to the Abyss with his tail tucked between his legs. [she looks up at the planetars] Will we need to tuck yours, too?
Planetar 1: She’ll only have a tail once she’s ripped it off of you!
Glasya (laughs): Come, Zariel. Leash your dogs and I’ll leash mine. I would speak with you without our voices being drowned by the rattling of sabers.
Zariel gestures towards a small grove off to one side. Glasya considers it, then nods her head and dismounts. Zariel follows suit, leaving Lulu and the others behind as she moves off to parlay with the devil.
Glasya’s hellhound edges closer to Lulu and sniffs. Lulu recoils. The hellhound reaches up… and licks her trunk.
Glasya and Zariel return. Zariel announces that they have both agreed to leave the fields of Idyllglen in peace, having “fought to common purpose.”
There’s a flash of golden light. And then…
SNIPPET – ZARIEL’S FALL: As your vision clears, you’re standing on a field of battle beneath the blood red sky of Avernus. A huge mound of devils lies dead. Other devils, still living, are hauling bodies off the mound, chittering amongst themselves.
All the way at the bottom of the mound, as one last corpse is pinioned on a pitchfork and flung to one side, the body of an angel is revealed. A blood-stained Zariel.
The devils draw back. Some of them are cackling, but then one glances back over their shoulder and suddenly drops prostrate to the ground. Others, too, following the first’s gaze, throw themselves to the ground.
A tall devil with skin of maroon and crimson, dressed in robes of black and gold, strides in amongst the scattered corpses. He is possessed of a leonid beauty, with two almost impossibly long, dark horns curving gracefully from his forehead.
You recognize this face. It is the face of Ashmedai, once Celestial Marshal of the Legions of Heaven.
The devil’s eyes smolder as he looks down at the angel. In a smooth voice of elegance and grace he asks, “Where is her Sword?”
“Gone.” Zariel chokes out of the word. “Asmodeus.”
“Fetch her some water,” Asmodeus says.
They wait. Simply gazing at each other. A few minutes later, the water is brought in a chalice of ivory-and-gold. Asmodeus takes the cup and offers it to Zariel.
Zariel smacks his hand aside, spilling the cup into the dust and blood.
Asmodeus smiles:
I look at you and I see that you are in despair. You thought you could make a difference. That you could end the Blood War. But here you are on a field of dead friends.
You look at me and I know you see malevolence. You see Evil. You see an antithesis. You see betrayal. But I did make a difference. And I will end the Blood War.
All those aeons ago, at my trial, when I looked you in the eye and laughed. Do you think I mocked you? No. I laughed because I saw you standing where I had stood before. I knew we walked the same road and you were just a few steps behind me.
Look around you. Look at the dead. Piled high. Do you really think this to be Good? Do you think this butchery to be worthwhile because it was done in a noble cause? You know as well as I do that as long as this continues, as long as the dead are nothing but tallies in the ledgers of complacent gods, Good is derelict. It is meaningless. It is feathery cupids cavorting on a celestial isle while suffering boils forth across the multiverse.
I know you came here to kill demons. You think you have failed. I think you have barely begun.
Which of us do you think sees more clearly?
What I offer you is simple: A chance to continue our fight. You have killed Terza’reg. I offer you his place on the Dark Eight and command of a Blood Legion. Serve me and your Crusade can still boil across the Abyss and turn the Great Wheel into a new epoch.
As Asmodeus speaks, you sense that this is but one truth among many: That Zariel and Asmodeus converse upon many different planes of thought. That this is but a mortal reflection of a myriad complexity beyond your grasp.
But when it is done, Zariel gazes upon Asmodeus for a long moment. An eternal moment.
And then she reaches out her hand.
“I accept.”
As their hands clasp, they explode with a blinding, golden light. And then…
SNIPPET – ZARIEL’S REQUEST, REDUX: You are elsewhere on the Avernian field of battle. Zariel is kneeling in the dust. Lady Yael, arrayed for battle in battered, bloody, dust-covered armor kneels on the ground next her. Zariel is pushing her glowing sword into Lady Yael’s hands.
Yael: I refuse. Do not ask me of this.
Zariel (smiling sadly): I must. I do. Look beyond this forsaken day. One last time, I need you to dream a little bigger.
Yael weeps and then, unable to speak, nods, taking Zariel’s sword.
But the moment shifts, and you see that in the moment Zariel passes over the Sword, she passes something else, too: A part of herself. A spark. A shard of her eternal, celestial soul.
I am the memory of Zariel that was and who can be again.
I am the Sword of her will and the Blade of her soul.
Zariel continues to speak to Yael, but she turns her head and her blazing eyes bore into you: “This is the last thing I will ever ask of you.”