Do you worship… Bane?

Image: Forgotten Realms Wiki

[4 min read]

A debrief over Discord posts from our illustrious Dungeon Master, recapping events after the climactic ending to our last mission, where our heroes vanquished Duke Valmont, leader of the Cult of the Shadowmoon (and actually a Rakshasa).

The pull of tyranny makes itself known...

Black lightning arcs around the cavern from the collapsing form of the crystal as it appears to begin imploding. Rocks fall from the cavernous roof and lava spews from magmatic pools, spraying everywhere in the upheaval. Clinging desperately the back of the emerald dragon, you all see Jaee lost in a trance at the cavern entry with arcane energy pouring from her hands into an ever widening portal. Her pupil-less eyes radiate a purple glow as she growls over the cacophony "GET IN THE PORTAL!".

The dragon hesitates but a second before altering its course, snatching Jaee's small form in its sizeable claws on its way past into the portal.

The implosion...explodes.

Concussive force unlike anything ever experienced before, blasts everyone through the portal.  The dragon cartwheels out of control and everyone loses their grip, careening into unimaginable darkness. Consciousness flees at insult...

Images...feelings....sensations tug at the core of each of your minds. The sense that you are somebody else, of...strangeness...

Tomas stands in a field of blood, his enemies crushed and dead at his feet, he revels in the destruction. Blood and gore soak his armour, black cloak and face. Baring his teeth in a wide grin, he bellows a long battle cry of victory. Never has he felt so alive as when he has shown his dominance over all who oppose him....and sometimes even over those that don't...

Rathius sits back in his large black throne, black cloak draped over the armrest. Fingers steepled in front of his face,  he quietly awaits the report. 

"The subterfuge worked my lord," the seneschal says in a hissing voice reminiscent of a snake. "The two factions are now at war and your interests are secured. Your rule in the area is uncontested."

A smile creeps across Rathius' face as a sense of warm satisfaction blooms within him. Once more his machinations have brought him power and showed him as the master of strife...

Kingsley stands in the keeps courtyard, a line of soldiers standing before him. A chill breeze tugs at his jet black cloak  which billows out behind his impressively armoured frame. A layer of deep winter sits on the ground, and the worn looking soldiers shiver....not just because of the cold. 

"How many do you need?" Kingsley growls to the hooded, skeletal looking figure standing next to him. 

The figure doesn't to look at him but utters in a small, creepy voice.

 "All of them."

Kinglsey shrugs and draws a black, wicked mace. Wisps of black arcane energy lazily drifts from its spiked head. He casually walks up to the first soldier in line.

"Its alright son."

The soldier looks hopeful for a second up until the mace crushes his skull, spraying blood and brain matter everywhere. 

A small sigh of pleasure comes from the hooded figure with each swing of the mace, as Kingsley lays about himself, executing the soldiers and reveling in the slaughter.

"You made quite a mess my friend," Jaee said to her companion. "I thought assassins were supposed to be discrete."

The man next to her smiled maliciously, wiping his blood covered blade on his cloak to clean it. "We all have our guilty pleasures."

Jaee  reached down to kneel beside the eviscerated body on the floor, trying not to slip in the ever widening pool of blood on the floor. Reaching into his jerkin, she pulled out a small gem. 

"Is that it?" her companion asked.

"Yes it is. This will change everything. With this we can begin our quest to reach the planes and take the power we all dreamed of."

Standing up, she brushed her jet black cloak back to avoid getting it bloodied. "Let's go Bhaal. We must fetch Myrkul and leave immediately. We have a long journey ahead of us."

The party awakens from the bleak period of unconsciousness, shaken to the core by their visions. The pure evil each party member felt as they personally lived the memories of the mortal Bane prior to his ascension to godhood were brutal. But that wasn't the worst part.

Each of you felt the same exhilaration Bane felt...and could relate.

It clear to each of you that the crystal that was destroyed held the essence of the dead Lord of Strife and God of Tyranny, Bane. A shard of his divine being left behind after his multiple deaths in Faerun, being used to fuel the horrendous experiments of the Cult of the Shadow Moon. Like the Azuthian shard before it, this divine/arcane artifact has left all of the party irrevocably changed, a piece of Bane now part of the fibre of your very souls.