Go to Table of Contents

These memories — identified by the associated trigger condition that prompts Lulu to remember them — are presented in no particular order. Be flexible with what will and will not trigger a memory: if it seems close enough that you can draw a clear parallel between what Lulu is currently experiencing and her memory, lean into that.

You might also decide that some other circumstance — something like significant trauma or just every time Lulu levels up — might be an appropriate trigger for a random memory. To that effect, I’ve included a random die roll on the trigger reference table below if you want to select the triggered memory randomly.

It’s not necessary for Lulu to recover all of these triggered memories. Don’t feel like you need to force them into play. In fact, triggering all of them might be overkill.

If you miss a trigger, it’s fine to just wait for the trigger to occur again. If the trigger would definitely not occur again, then it’s okay to just skip it. Memory is, after all, a fickle thing. (You might also flag such a “missed” memory to be used for a randomly triggered memory if you’re doing that.)

SHARING LULU’S MEMORIES

If Lulu is a PC, then implementing these triggered memories is relatively easy. (The only decision you need to make is whether to describe them openly at the table or just privately share them with Lulu’s player so that they can roleplay how they tell the other PCs about it.)

But what if Lulu’s an NPC?

The most direct solution is for her to simply describe the memories as she regains them. If you want to more directly describe them to the players as something experienced directly by their characters, there are a couple of options:

First, during the Vision from Torm, the god can — while impressing the import of Lulu and her lost memories — forge a connection between the PCs and Lulu. When a memory gets triggered, both Lulu and the PCs experience it. (This link might be between Lulu and the entire group, or it might only be between Lulu and the PC who put on the helmet and received the Vision from Torm.)

Second, Lulu is telepathic and abruptly recovering these memories is a traumatic mental experience. When a memory is triggered, she might involuntarily broadcast it. You might limit this broadcast to the PCs (i.e., she’s broadcasting to those she trusts and is friends with) or it might just be an open blast to anyone nearby (which could result in any number of unforeseen consequences depending on which NPCs happen to be within range at the time).

MEMORY TRIGGERS

Hearing Zariel’s Name: “Zariel! That was the name of my angel!” Lulu remembers that the name of the warrior angel who was her friend was Zariel. She has a flash of Zariel’s beatific face smiling in dappled, silvery moonlight. “Fair met, Lulu. I am Zariel, solar of Celestia.”

Heated Argument With a Devil: Zariel is being held by a phalanx of winged angels, she is screaming at someone. Zariel wants to… testify? Someone is on trial. Zariel feels that justice isn’t being done. “Your betrayal, Ashmedai, cost us everything! No matter what this farce of justice ordains! No matter what Primus lets you get away with! I will speak my truth!”

Lulu Comes to the High Hall: Double vision of the High Hall and the old citadel that once stood atop the tor. When she passes through the doors, the vision will intensify and she will see Yael kneeling before Olanthius. Olanthius reaches down and offers Yael his hand, saying, “Speak to me of your Crusade, milady.” Yael responds, “Thank you, Lord Olanthius.”

Downed PC / Companion / Ally (someone Lulu has formed a meaningful connection with): Lulu remembers flying above a blasted wasteland of black rock and red sands. There was a woman on her back softly weeping. Below them a vast sea of devils surges in the opposite direction. She tries to fly even faster. Looking back, at the center of the converging mass of fiends she sees a beam of golden light shooting into the air. And at the center of the beam a beautiful, angelic women with white, bloodstained wings struggles against the mass that slowly overwhelms and quenches her light. The woman on Lulu’s back swallows her tears and says, “Turn and face what is to come and not what is behind. We must fly fast, my friend. We have far to go.” Yael… That was the woman’s name. Yael.

Design Note: If appropriate, this memory could be progressively triggered. For example, only the second time it’s triggered does Lulu remember that there was a woman on her back. And only on the third time does she remember the woman’s name.

Seeing Zariel’s Flying Fortress: Lulu has a double vision of seeing the flying fortress from a different angle (and possibly at a much closer distance). From this other angle, she’s been leashed with a length of grey, woven rope and is surrounded by a small band of people: A woman dressed entirely in animated, mulit-colored silk cloths that drift around her body. A pair of horned devils with pitch-black skin. Several scampering imps. A smiling, bearded man in silk robes with a jambiya blade thrust into a sash around his waist.

As the group approaches the fortress, a semi-circular silver platform slowly levitates to the ground. It appears to be operated by a bearded devil who stands near a copper pedestal. Lulu and her group board the platform and it begins to ascend back towards the fortress…

DM Note: This group is the entourage Mahadi led to gift Lulu to Zariel. (Note that in the Remix, Mahadi gifted Lulu himself, rather than merely selling her to anonymous devils.)

Meeting Bitter Breath: Lulu is being escorted by half a dozen devils across the red sands of Avernus. Zariel’s flying fortress hangs in the sky behind them. Lulu feels… drunk? Concussed? Confused, certainly. Like she’s viewing the world through a grey veil or haze. Time seems to rush by; or perhaps turgidly skips about. The flying fortress is gone now. But then, suddenly, there’s an explosion of black energy that utterly consumes one of the devils escorting Lulu. Over a reddish dune ahead of them, a pack of infernal war machines churns into view. An arcanist hangs precariously off the side of one of them slinging spells. The devils with Lulu are thrown into confusion, but try to take up some form of defensive position. One of them is run over by a war machine; smashed flat into the red dust in a smear of black ichor. A horned devil leaps from one of the vehicles and lands in a confused cluster of devils. Her tail whips out, tripping one of the devils and sending them crashing into the dust. She spears another on the end of her trident and laughs with joyful rage. “Tell Zariel that not one of her servants is safe from the vengeance of Bitter Breath!”

Seeing the Styx: A flash of memory. Lulu is riding on some sort of ferry steered by a dark-haired women. The woman has a large sword strapped to her back that glows softly with a golden light. They’re heading down river. The banks of the river are quite high, blocking Lulu’s view of the surrounding landscape. But from one bank comes a demonic howl. And then another. The howls are getting closer…

Yael’s Last Words: Yael’s last words to Lulu, as she sacrificed herself to raise the alabaster fortress, were, “All that’s left now is the dream.” If Lulu hears someone say something similar to that – e.g., “all we need now is the dream machine” or “all that’s left to do now is killing that devil” — she might have a very brief flash to a dark-haired woman saying, “All that’s left now is the dream,” before being swallowed up by an impossibly bright light that emanates from something held between her hands.

A Gathering of Forces / The Refugee Caravan: Lulu is in the form of a giant, golden-furred mammoth. Her angel is riding upon her back. They are at the head of a huge column of mounted soldiers, riding out of the gates of a city. The riders all wear a badge depicting twin suns — one larger than the other.

Name or Holy Symbol of Lathander: Lulu hears an impossibly loud trumpeting noise (that no other character can hear).

DM Note: Lulu is literally “hearing” the memory of her own trumpet, as she called out across the planes and had her prayer answered by Lathander. This effect might repeat upon repeated exposures to Lathander’s iconography, perhaps with the sound growing dimmer upon each repetition until it fades away.

Being Imprisoned: Lulu flashes back to the sensation of being entombed in a warm, spongy, moist substance. A reddish light slowly suffuses her surroundings. There’s a sense of pressure coupled to a desperate need to escape. Her limbs are lethargic, but she begins weakly thrusting against the pulpy mass which imprisons her. There’s a tearing sensation followed by a hot blast of dry wind. There’s something wrong with her vision… as if a red caul had been pulled across her eyes. But the light… the light is so bright…

A Magic Portal: Zariel is mounted upon Lulu in front of a swirling portal of red energies. They stand in a green field stained with blood. The portal is almost hypnotic. Lulu can’t pull her eyes away from it. Zariel cries out to someone that Lulu can’t see in the memory — shadowy shapes that are lost to her damaged mind. “He has taken one of our own! To rescue and to salvation! Charge!” Lulu leaps through the crimson portal…

DM: Not simply ANY dimensional travel, but specifically a portal. (This is not, therefore, triggered when the PCs are plane shifted to Avernus. But it’s likely to happen in the Grand Cemetery.)

Go to Part 6D-G: Lulu’s Memories (Memory Revelations)

DISCUSSING:
In the Shadow of the Spire – Session 23B: Binding Foul and Fair

“Well, the book should tell us more,” Ranthir said, and picked it up. He flipped it open… and the pages seemed to blur before his eyes, forming a black maw that seemed to open inside his very mind… threatening to overwhelm him… to swallow his very mind…

Ranthir jerked the book away, slamming it shut and throwing it onto the table.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

Ranthir rubbed his forehead. His thoughts seemed blurred. The edge of his intellect dulled. “The book… the book betrayed me!”

I often talk about how one of the unique strengths of the dungeoncrawl structure is the way in which it firewalls individual rooms: If you’re a GM – particularly a new GM – you don’t have to keep an entire adventure scenario in your head. You only have to think about the room the PCs are currently standing in. All the information you need right now almost certainly fits on a single piece of paper, and you don’t have to worry about anything else until the PCs choose an exit and go to the next room.

It’s the equivalent of juggling one ball.

This also extends to creating the dungeon scenario in the first place: In its most inchoate form, the dungeon is made up of entirely independent rooms. The new GM can fill a dungeon room with fun stuff and then move on to filling up the next room without any concern for what they put in the first room.

Once you’re no longer a beginning GM, though, you’re going to start using techniques that break down this firewall. You’re not going to completely eschew the advantages of the clearly defined room key (no reason to throw the baby out with the bathwater), but you will slowly stop thinking about the dungeon only one room at a time and start adding extra dimensions and complexity to your dungeon scenarios.

You’re going to start juggling multiple balls at the same time.

One such technique is the adversary roster: Instead of keying encounters to specific rooms, adversary rosters make it relatively easy for the GM think about and actively play the inhabitants of a dungeon as they move around the location, living their lives and responding to the incursions of the PCs.

Another technique are dungeon clues. To generalize, a dungeon clue is information in one room of a dungeon which influences or determines the PCs’ actions in a different room.

Some of these clues will likely be quite straightforward: For example, the key in Room 11 that opens the door in Area 41.

Other clues, however, will be complicated, perhaps requiring a series of revelations gleaned from clues in multiple locations throughout the dungeon before the final solution can be found. You can see an example of this here in Session 23, as the PCs piece together the clues that will let them locate the broken halves of the spiral contrivance.

“If the key is in the square tower and it requires a ladder to reach the secret entrance, maybe that entrance isn’t on the wall of the tower – maybe it’s under the tower.”

They returned down to the large, empty room on the fifth floor of the tower. “We should be directly beneath the tower here,” Ranthir said.

Tee floated up to the ceiling and quickly found a bit of false plaster. Scraping that aside with one of her dragon-hilted daggers, she revealed a small keyhole. She took out the key she had found in the nook below the ruined garden and found that it was a perfect fit.

A particularly effective technique is to design your dungeon clues so that the PCs are forced to crisscross the dungeon — gaining information in Area A that takes them to Area B, before sending them back to Area A to complete the sequence. These types of interactions help to transform the dungeon from a linear experience to a multi-dimensional one, in which expertise and knowledge gained from one traversal of the dungeon become rewarding when the players revisit those areas a second time.

In sufficiently complex dungeon scenarios, you can have multiple enigmas featuring overlapping patterns of dungeon clues in play at the same time. This creates navigational interest in the dungeon as the players now have to figure out their own priorities and the routes that proceed from those priorities.

The last thing to note is that dungeon clues frequently aren’t necessary to successfully complete a scenario. For example, the PCs could have found the pieces of the spiral contrivance without necessarily obtaining or figuring out all the clues. If the revelation indicated by your dungeon clues is necessary for the scenario, though, you’ll want to remember the Three Clue Rule.

THE DYNAMIC CYCLE

For the GM, dungeon clues usually aren’t something they need to think about too much while running the game (although for sufficiently complicated scenarios it might involve tracking a revelation list), but that’s obviously because the clues are getting baked in during prep. Players, on the other hand, will be actively engaged with these clues — collecting them, thinking about them, trying to figure them out — during play.

In fact, all of these techniques — adversary rosters, dungeon clues, etc. — don’t just break down the GM’s firewall. They also force the players to stop thinking about things one room at a time and instead start thinking about the dungeon as a whole. In other words, the players will stop thinking only tactically about their immediate circumstances and start thinking strategically about the broader scenario.

Once the players have been nudged in this direction, you’ll discover that their strategic consideration of the dungeon will actually feed back into the scenario itself, creating dynamic interactions which were never explicitly part of your prep: The deliberately placed dungeon clues will get them thinking about how Room 11 and Room 33 relate to each other, for example. But now that they’re thinking like that, they’ll also think about:

• Using a passwall spell to move from Room 14 to Room 22.
• Tricking the goblins in Rooms 9 thru 12 into attacking the ogre in Room 41.
• Scavenging alchemist’s fire from the traps in the lower hallways to destroy the cursed tapestries in Room 42.

This dynamic play on the part of the players will, in turn, give you the opportunity of rising to the challenge and finding more ways to actively play the scenario in order to respond to them.

NEXT:
Campaign Journal: Session 23C – Running the Campaign: Dungeon Cycles
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index

SESSION 23B: BINDING FOUL AND FAIR

June 7th, 2008
The 10th Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty

CLEARING THE KEEP

They headed across the bridge and into the Cobbledman’s tower. Climbing down, Tee found herself in a chamber littered from broken bones and filth. On a dirty pallet of grey straw, the Cobbledman lay sleeping.

Tee approached him and gently shook him by the shoulder. He stirred, and then the eyes on his second head – the one that hadn’t spoken before – shot open. His hand shot out and grasped Tee by the throat, choking the life out of her. The second head let out a low growl of rage.

Tee panicked for a moment, but then thought quickly. She slapped the other head soundly across the cheek. It woke up, bleary-eyed. It took in Tee. It took in the other head. “No! Don’t!”

The Cobbledman’s other arm darted out and punched the Cobbledman’s second head.

The hand on Tee’s throat dropped away and she fell to the floor (realizing only then that she had been lifted up into the air).

“Are you all right?” the Cobbledman asked. The second head was glaring and sulking.

“I think so,” Tee said, rubbing her throbbing throat. “I’m sorry I woke you up. But you said we might be able to borrow the spiral key that Maquent gave you. Do you think we could do that?”

The Cobbledman grasped at his shirt front. “…I don’t know.”

“We have the other piece,” Tee said., holding it up. “We’d only need it for a little while. And once we were done, you could have both parts.”

“Really?” the Cobbledman’s right face split into a wide grin. “All right.” From under his shirt he pulled out the other half of the spiraled disc.

With a sharp tug, he broke the leather strap it was hanging from and handed it over to Tee. She smiled, thanked him, and gave him some more food. Then she climbed back up to where the others were waiting.

“Got it.”

“What do we do with it?” Elestra asked.

“I don’t know,” Tee said.

“Could this be the key you were looking for?” Tor asked.

“No, I don’t think so,” Tee said. “I think the key we’re looking for is below the statue. I think this is something the cultists made.”

“How will we get the two pieces back together again?”

Tee shrugged and pressed the two pieces together. There was a bright flash of light, and the pieces were seamlessly joined.

“I thought that might work.”

Even with the key in hand, they still wanted to make sure that the rest of the keep had been cleared out before doing anything else. Leaving enemies at their back while they journeyed down into whatever waited beneath the house didn’t seem like a good idea.

Fortunately, they had already explored most of the keep. They started by climbing the stairs that led from the roof of the house up to the central tower. There they found a chamber filled with a weblike nest of bits of old cloth and other rubbish, held together with a hardened, glistening excretion of some kind.

“Disgusting,” Tee said, and then stepped aside to let Agnarr chop his way through it. She could see that there was a ladder on the far side leading up to the tower’s parapet. But a few moments later she was holding up her hand: “Stop!”

Agnarr stepped back and Tee stepped forward: She had been right. There were two more of the red robes which had apparently belonged to the Crimson Coil cult stuck in the nest. “These might come in useful,” she said, carefully prying them out. One of them was in fairly shabby condition (“I can fix that!” Elestra said.), but the other was in good condition (albeit filthy).

Agnarr went back to work, and within a few minutes Tee was pushing open the trapdoor leading to the parapet. Poking her head through, her gaze was immediately arrested by a crown sitting in the center of the parapet.

With a closer look, she quickly realized that the crown itself was nothing but cheap wood painted gold. But her interest was piqued by the eight large blue garnets: To her trained eyes, these appeared real… and, if they were, they would easily be worth 200 gold crowns each.

BINDING FOUL AND FAIR

That left only one nook left to explore: The lower levels of the Cobbledman’s tower. These couldn’t be accessed from above, however, so they circled back down through the keep and then climbed back up.

This brought them to a small, poorly furnished room. In the center of the room there was a rickety wooden table. On the top of the table a pentagram had been inscribed in charcoal. Three objects stood within the pentagram, positioned at points of power within the diagram: A jar of yellowish liquid; a short, fat candle half-expended; and, on a copper plate, a book.

Tor, looking at the jar, grimaced. “We’ve found somebody’s chamberpot.”

Tee turned back to the ladder. “Ranthir! Get up here!”

Ranthir was quickly able to identify the ritual as an exploitation of sympathetic magic. “It’s a binding ritual,” he explained. “The jar is either formed of diamond crystal or a polymorphed diamond – I can’t tell which. But you can see that the purity of the crystal has been corrupted. The pattern of the pentagram also suggests that it was, in fact, a dual-binding ritual: One spirit was bound here, to this jar. But this minor ritual was used, through the laws of sympathetic magic, to trigger a much larger binding somewhere else. And the spirits would have been opposed – one evil or chaotic; the other lawful or good. The burning of the candle would have triggered the sympathetic connections of the ritual and… Yes, here on the candle we can see inscribed the name Segginal in arcane runes.”

“Who’s Segginal?” Tor asked.

“I don’t know,” Ranthir said.

“The Cobbledman,” Tee suggested. “One bad head; one good head. A spirit bound to each.”

“Perhaps,” Ranthir said. “But the nature of the ritual suggests that one of the spirits is still bound here, in the jar. Or rather to the jar.”

“Then which one was bound in the jar? The good one or the bad one?”

“It could be the spirit that haunts the castle,” Tor said. “The ritual could have been what bound it here.”

“Well, the book should tell us more,” Ranthir said, and picked it up. He flipped it open… and the pages seemed to blur before his eyes, forming a black maw that seemed to open inside his very mind… threatening to overwhelm him… to swallow his very mind…

Ranthir jerked the book away, slamming it shut and throwing it onto the table.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

Ranthir rubbed his forehead. His thoughts seemed blurred. The edge of his intellect dulled. “The book… the book betrayed me!”

Ranthir remained in a rather foul mood as they discussed their options. He’d heard of the foul corruptions which could turn a book into an inversion of itself – a consumer of knowledge instead of a giver of knowledge – but he still felt personally violated by the experience. It was a betrayal that struck at the heart of everything he held dear.

After weighing their options, Tee decided that they should break the jar. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Death,” Tor said.

Agnarr, hearing this as they came back down the ladder, grinned. “Sounds like my kind of plan.”

They went down to the courtyard.

“Are we sure we want to do this?” Dominic asked.

Tee shrugged and threw the jar against the stone wall. It shattered into shards and, where the shards fell, a whirlwind sprang up. It grew suddenly in strength, whipping their hair and causing some to fall back a step. Elestra cursed. Tor tightened his grip on his sword.

And then the whirlwind gave way and disappeared. In its place, a tall figure with pale blue skin and white-feathered wings hovered in the air. He looked down at them with eyes of pure light.

“My name is Edlari. I thank you for freeing me from my foul imprisonment. I owe you a debt that cannot easily be repaid.” He turned his gaze to the sky and frowned. “What year is it?”

“790.”

“Has it been so long?” He shook his head sadly. “I can sense a great evil in this place, but it lies beneath us where I cannot reach it. Will you accept my aid, meager though it may be?”

“Of course,” Tee said.

He flew to each of them in turn, his heavy wings beating softly at the air, and laid his hand upon their brows. They felt their wounds and aches fade from their bones and blood. Ranthir could feel the fog left by the evil tome fade from his thoughts. Tee, with great joy, could feel the rigors of the taint fading from her soul… although, in the same moment, she felt the weight of the dark items which lay in the bag at her side.

“And now,” Edlari said, “I must return to the Pale Tower. Seek for me there if you would speak with me again.”

With that, he was gone – his wings carrying him up and over the walls of the keep.

NEXT:
Running the Campaign: Dungeon Clues – Campaign Journal: Session 23C
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index

DISCUSSING:
In the Shadow of the Spire – Session 23A: Let Slip the Dogs of Hell

“WHO DARES TO VIOLATE THIS SANCTUARY OF CHAOS?”

They whirled around and looked up. Above, on a balcony in the tower directly above them, a demon with a goat-like head was floating several feet off the ground. It carried a vicious looking axe with a blade that gleamed in the sun.

Although this is not well-represented in the campaign journal, I actually ended Session 22 in a cliffhanger: The demon showed up, shouted, “Who dares?!”, and that’s where I wrapped up the night.

Cliffhangers are great. There are all kinds of cliffhangers, but two significant ones for RPGs are unresolved peril and the escalating bang.

Unresolved peril is fairly self-explanatory: The PCs — or people/things they care about — are in a state of jeopardy and we “leave them hanging,” uncertain of the outcome. The anticipation of the cliffhanger is based on desperately wanting to know the fate of the things we care about.

I discuss escalating bangs in The Art of Pacing. This is the point in a scene where the stakes are either precipitously raised to a whole new level and/or when the stakes you thought the scene were about abruptly change into something completely different. If you cut more or less on the exact moment that the escalating bang is revealed, the anticipation of the cliffhanger is based on being uncertain about where the scene is going and also the eagerness of wanting to take action in the new reality presented by the bang.

This particular cliffhanger is basically a combination of both types: The escalating bang of the demon’s arrival has both changed the nature of the scene and put the PCs in jeopardy.

(As I point out in Part 5 of The Art of Pacing, cliffhangers also don’t always have to come at the end of a session: If the group has split up, you can create numerous cliffhangers by cutting from one group to another.)

“Anticipation” is a key word here. What makes the cliffhanger desirable as a dramatic technique is that the players immediately want to keep playing, while simultaneously denying that to them. It’s a great way of ending a session, because it makes the players eager for the next session.

ENDING THE SESSION

Cliffhangers are not the only effective way to end a session. At the end of Session 21, for example, we closed on the resolution of some pretty heavy stakes for the character of Dominic. Those significant character beats — particularly if the characters themselves are thinking deeply about how things turned out — are a good place for a session break because it lets the players live long in that moment.

In other cases, like the end of Session 19, you might want to break at the point where a scenario has reached a definitive conclusion. This helps to solidify a sense of accomplishment — the idea that a new milestone in the campaign has been reached. When you look back at a campaign, these milestones will chart out the course you’ve all taken together. (From a practical standpoint, this can also be a good place to wrap up for the night so that everyone — including you! — can have some time to think about what they want to do next.)

If you want to study different types of effective session endings, think about how other serialized forms of entertainment — television shows and comic books, for example — wrap up their installments. You’ll find a lot of different types of endings, and also a lot of variations within those types.

The real trick with an RPG, though, is finding that ending. Unlike a scriptwriter, you only have a limited amount of control over where the game session will take you and how fast it will take you there. That’s actually why I use the word “finding”: Whereas the scriptwriter can sculpt the ending they want, as a GM you need to instead be aware of when the ending happens and then actually end the session.

If you miss a potential ending, there probably won’t be another coming along for awhile. That’s when you’ll end up just kind of awkwardly cutting at some arbitrary point because you’ve run out of time.

THE ENDING WINDOW

To find an effective ending, you’ll first need to be aware when you’re in what I call the “ending window.” That’s the window of time at the end of the session in which it’s acceptable to say, “That’s all folks!” It doesn’t matter how perfect an ending a particular moment would be if it comes two hours into a four hour session. (Although that might be a good place to take a break.)

For me, in a four hour session, the ending window is generally from about 15 minutes before our scheduled end time to about 10 minutes after. (If I’m running for a group where the end time is hard-and-fast, it’s more like twenty to twenty-five minutes before the scheduled end of the session.) If I’m in that window or approaching that window, I know that I’m looking for an ending and can start framing and pacing the action accordingly.

I have a simple trick for staying aware of where I am in the session: A kitchen timer. Before the session starts, I simply set the timer to go off at our scheduled end time and put it discretely behind my screen. (It’s usually surrounded by a pool of dice.) I can then tell in a glance where we’re at: Three hours left. Two hours left. One hour left. Half an hour left. In the ending window.

Why not just use the timer on your phone? The timer on my phone generally needs to be checked – i.e., I have to turn on the screen. It also opens up the potential for other distractions in the form of notifications and the like. The kitchen timer, by contrast, just sits there in my peripheral vision. Not only can I check it with a flick of my eye, but I’ll periodically notice it throughout the session without having to actively think about checking the time. It keeps me tuned in.

Over time, you’ll find that your knowledge of where you are in a session will bring other benefits besides pacing for effective endings. Some of this is practical (like knowing when you should take a break). Others can be a little more ephemeral — you’ll start to develop a gut instinct for pacing; when you have time to let things play out and when you need to get the players moving with harder framing and higher stakes.

NEXT:
Campaign Journal: Session 23B – Running the Campaign: Dungeon Clues
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index

SESSION 23A: LET SLIP THE DOGS OF HELL

June 7th, 2008
The 10th Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty

“WHO DARES TO VIOLATE THIS SANCTUARY OF CHAOS?”

They whirled around and looked up. Above, on a balcony in the tower directly above them, a demon with a goat-like head was floating several feet off the ground. It carried a vicious looking axe with a blade that gleamed in the sun.

Its powerful legs pushed off the wall behind it, propelling it above their heads. It then dropped to the balcony, floating a few inches above the floor as it swung the axe towards Tee’s head.

Tee tumbled backwards, rolling to her feet in a low crouch. Tor and Agnarr pushed past Ranthir, raised their swords – which they had held uneasily by their sides during the conversation with the Cobbledman – and attacked.

The demon caught Tor’s blade with the broad side of his axe, but Agnarr’s sword cut deeply into its arm. It felt as if he was chopping into a block of solid wood, but the magic blade cleanly cut through the thick skin and found the blood and bone below.

The demon threw back its head and howled in pain. It swept the axe violently back and forth – first smashing the broad side of it against Tor’s head (sending him staggering) and then reversing the blow to smash into the Agnarr’s ribs.

Agnarr gasped as the axe cut through his armor and deep into his side, sending a gush of blood pouring from the wound. The demon’s horns jutted forward, smashing into Agnarr’s forehead.

Elestra reached out, feeling the Spirit of the City and using her own force of will to energize the strength of it around her.

Ranthir, meanwhile, was thinking quickly: He hit the demon with a powerful disenchantment, causing its levitation charm to vanish. The demon fell, landing awkwardly and stumbling forward.

Agnarr, grimacing through the pain, took advantage of the momentary distraction and swung his sword again.

The demon whirled away from the blade, but it still cut deeply into his side. Then it ducked under Tor’s blade and leapt over the parapet, murmuring demonic syllables. Arcane powers caught it up in the air and it levitated out over the central courtyard.

As it turned back to them, Elestra finished gathering her strength and focused a sizzling arc of lightning which tore through the demon where it flew. But the demon seemed entirely unfazed as the electricity leapt from its horns and arced through its body, instead crying aloud: “You will rue the day that you crossed the path of True Chaos!”

Tee, who had retreated back into the keep itself, suddenly heard heavy footsteps thudding across the stone ceiling above her – which would mean that something was on the roof! “Look out!”

But she was too late to warn any of them. Two hounds of hell leapt from the upper level, landing on the balcony near Tor and Agnarr. Their skin had the appearance of cooled lava; their eyes were smoldering pits; and their nostrils breathed gouts of flame. As they skidded across the balcony, they turned and gaped their mouths: Twin cones of flame washed across Agnarr and Tor.

But Tor had raised his shield at the last possible moment, and Agnarr had eased in behind it: Although they still felt a little broiled in their armor, they were mostly angered by the fell beasts.

Although that might have been more true for Tor than it was for Agnarr, because a huge grin was growing across the barbarian’s face: “Dogs! They’re dogs!”

Tee called out from behind him: “You are not allowed to keep one!”

The smile fell from Agnarr’s face, and he dutifully moved forward with Tor. Their blades worked in quick unison and – although the hounds were covered in skin like liquid stone – their magical blades made quick work of them.

Meanwhile, the demon had fled – abandoning his hounds, reaching the far wall of the keep, and dropping down out of sight.

THE SQUARE TOWER

With the demon gone and the demonic hounds reduced to a pile of burning slag, Elestra released the powers of lightning she had called and the smell of ozone faded from the air. Turning to the others she said, “So where to now?”

“I still want to try to get to the square tower,” Tee said. “If Maquent’s journal is still accurate, then the other half of the spiral contrivance or key or whatever it is must be hidden in there.”

There had been a trapdoor in the ceiling of the room filled with arcane symbols and the remnants of old rites, so they climbed up through that to reach the roof. From there they were able to cross over to the square tower.

But they found that the square tower had no doors or windows. Tee donned her boots of levitation to reach the top of tower, but there was no entrance there, either. She then spent the better part of half an hour scouring every inch of the tower’s 24-foot high walls, convinced that there must be some hidden entrance.

Ranthir, meanwhile, was looking through Maquent’s journal. Just as Tee, in frustration, was giving up on her search, Ranthir reread the entry from Noctural 14^th, 787 YD. Then he read it out loud to the others: “I have somewhat befriended the Cobbledman. He grows more mad with each day, however. I hid my half of the spiral contrivance in his tower with him. I shall not even tell Radanna. Of course, she will not tell me where she keeps her half, either, but there’s only one place it could be. Certainly no one could sneak a ladder up to that secret door without her knowing about it.”

“If the key is in the square tower and it requires a ladder to reach the secret entrance, maybe that entrance isn’t on the wall of the tower – maybe it’s under the tower.”

They returned down to the large, empty room on the fifth floor of the tower. “We should be directly beneath the tower here,” Ranthir said.

Tee floated up to the ceiling and quickly found a bit of false plaster. Scraping that aside with one of her dragon-hilted daggers, she revealed a small keyhole. She took out the key she had found in the nook below the ruined garden and found that it was a perfect fit.

When she turned it, however, the entire stone block – 6-feet to the side – came loose and fell. It slammed into her and spun her down and to one side. Agnarr, standing below, was caught squarely by the block and driven to the ground.

Dominic rushed forward to help. Agnarr pushed the rock off of his crushed legs and waited patiently for the priest’s holy energy to repair his broken bones. “I’m getting tired of falling rocks in this place.”

“I think they went with cheap mortar,” Dominic said, reaching out to lay a hand on Tee’s bleeding scalp as she settled woozily to the floor next to them.

“When we move in here it’ll have to be the first thing we fix,” Ranthir said.

“We aren’t moving into the demon-infested house,” Tee said.

Tor smiled. “It won’t be demon-infested when we’re done with it.”

“That’s right,” Elestra said. “We’ve already scared off one demon today.”

“He’ll be back,” Tee said grimly.

The stone block had revealed a hole leading through the floor into the bottom level of the square tower. Niches carved in the sides of the hole would make it easy for someone to climb up if they were at the top of a ladder, but they were superfluous for them: Tee’s head was clearing now and so she floated up through the hole.

She emerged into a small, square room. A ladder of iron rungs driven into one wall led up to a trapdoor. The other walls of the room were covered with carved niches. Most of these niches were empty, but in four of them Tee could see flasks of liquid. In another there were a half dozen sticks of black-and-gold incense. In a sixth lay a small gray idol.

Tee grimaced. “I hate idols. Idols haven’t been nice to me.” She unlaced her boots and dropped them down so that Agnarr could follow her up.

Tee climbed up the ladder to the next level of the tower. Here she found a plain room of stone with an iron chest lying off to one side. The ladder continued up to a trap door of stone secured with a thick iron bar.

The lock on the chest proved tricky, but Tee eventually managed to get it open. Inside she found bags of silver and gold coins, a thick candlestick of pure gold, and a finely-crafted headband of woven silver. Laying at the bottom chest was half of a circular disk of black obsidian with a bright red stone spiraled through it.

Tee climbed back down the ladder and found Agnarr peering quizzically at one of the niches. “Don’t touch anything. I’ve found Radanna’s half of the contrivance… key… whatever it is.”

“Now we just need to kill the Cobbledman for the other half.” Agnarr grinned.

“I don’t think we’ll need to kill him. He seemed all right with the idea of letting us borrow it.”

“I thought it was inside of him. He grabbed his chest when he was talking about it.”

“I think he was just grabbing at something under his shirt.”

“Oh.” Agnarr thought about this for a second and then jerked his head towards the niches in the wall. “Should we take this stuff?”

Tee glowered at the idol. “I guess we’d better figure out what it is. Why don’t you go back down and send Dominic up to look at it.”

Agnarr shrugged and jumped down through the hole.  He handed the boots over to Dominic, who murmured a prayer to Vehthyl and floated up just high enough for his eyes to clear the edge.

He was able to quickly identify the flasks as containing unholy water. The incense had a strong aura of magic about them.

“And the idol?” Tee asked.

“It has no enchantment upon it. I think it’s safe.”

Tee picked it up and found that it was formed of compressed ash. It was really nothing more than a trinket. She stuck it in her bag, decided against taking the unholy water, and then gingerly picked up the incense.

Dominic, meanwhile, had floated back down to join the others. Agnarr threw the boots back up, Tee laced them up, and floated down. She held out the sticks of incense. “Ranthir can you identify what these are?”

Ranthir took them and raised his eyebrows. “I can, actually. These golden runes on the side are unmistakable. This is vision incense. The six sticks must be burned simultaneously, and their conjoined enchantments create a powerful connection between this world and the dreams of those nearby. Great truth can be found in the visions revealed by incense like this. There are many in Isiltur who use it.”

NEXT:
Running the Campaign: Cliffhangers – Campaign Journal: Session 23B
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index