Ameshirel: A World Undone

Session 25: Bivoback to the Future

A merry jaunt into the dystopian future.

Triskell had been staying in town recently. Supposedly to work on releasing Zozif from his time displacement. I say supposedly because in all that time I saw very little actual work being done. I offered to help as an assistant, running errands (mainly for alcohol) and doing other miscellaneous work. It was in part to hide from the anti-Sigil mob that has been forming in Sabhail, and also partly to try to learn anything of use from this wizard. He is not quite as crafty as he thinks, I picked up a few tricks.

The night before our adventure, Triskell joined us in the tavern for drinking (again). He promised to fix Zozif’s predicament the very next day. With hangovers all round, we woke him in the morning and ventured off to Zozif’s workshop. Triskell put on a big act of casting some sort of spell. A magical cage formed around the tiny gnome, and then shattered, releasing Zozif from his curse. He seemed confused that we were all crowded around in his workshop. To him, it was as if no time had passed at all.

We were all about to congratulate ourselves on another job well done, when he began to slow down again. Triskell reached out a hand to the gnome, and then pulled it away, stretching out a rift of some sort between them. Monstrous roaring could be heard from the portal. Peering through, we could see water on stone, and the reflection of a flashing blue, purple and yellow light. We came here for an adventure, and did not take much convincing to pass through into the other world.

We found ourselves in a strange stone hallway. A bizarre metal tree on a cliff face seemed to be the source of the changing lights, but we could not work out their purpose. Two blazing, fiery lights appear at the end of the hallway and begin tearing towards us. It appears to be some sort of self-propelled carriage. It stops just short of hitting us and a panel in the side opens. Someone is inside, but not of any race we have ever seen. He is made of metal, a construct of some sort. He introduces himself as ‘011235’ or ‘Fibonacci’ for short. He says that he knows Zozif.

As we are talking with him a huge dragon-like flying creature appears. It shines down lights over the ground and we can hear the sound of metal hailing down. We crowd into the carriage, arranging ourselves between the alchemical equipment in the back, and hold on for dear life. Fibonacci explains that our pursuer was a Hunter Killer made by the Remnant. Sounds good, sounds like something we’re going to need to fight.

He takes us to his hideout, and answers a few of our questions. We are still in Ameshirel, it is just far into the future. Zozif created the Iron Men and the modrons like Fibonacci, but something went wrong. The Remnant is the last of the Iron Men. Fibonacci explained that he wanted to fix the world by returning with us to our own time and convincing Zozif to create the modrons before the Iron Men.

The next morning, we head out in the carriage towards the Remnant’s main base. There are thousands of modrons in the city, all going about their business. The Hunter Killer reappears, hot on our tail. Laithina and I shoot it out of the sky with a canon of some sort as the carriage screams into the compound. Modrons begin converging on our location. A giant mechanical creature strides out in front of us and blows apart the front of the vehicle with its weaponized arm. Half of its face is metal, but the other looks incredibly like Zozif.

The modrons begin their attack, combining with each other into stronger models. Njord slams down a potion of Hill Giant’s Strength and races towards the automaton, stabbing it with his spear. It is unimpressed, and stomps him into the ground. Tubes spring from its arm and begin to drain away what little remains of Njord’s life force. Johannesz fires bolts off into the crowd of attackers, and I begin channeling shatter at the monstrosity before us. Bivouac begins to chant, but starts cussing as he fumbles on his song. It is the most beautiful thing I have ever heard him play.

Bivouac and Zinren focus fire on the fleshy part of the mech’s face. Wires begin to spill out of it as it attempts to repair itself. Other modrons who have fallen previously in the battle begin to repair themselves and rejoin the fray, leaping ahead with jetpacks. Mourns casts lightning on the Remnant, plating begins to fall from its body. Lights flash on its shoulders, and it sweeps a beam of red ruin across the party.

Laithina and Bivouac aim at what little remains of its face, and shoot it down. The modrons stop in their tracks as their leader falls, and the Hunter Killers over the city drop from the sky. They are apologetic, and fly us back over the city to the rift. We pass through, bringing Fibonacci with us, to find Triskell asleep and Zozif returning to his normal state. Zozif shares his knowledge of modron construction with Zozif, and we return to the town for a well-deserved mid-afternoon nap.

But somewhere, a gnome is far from home. Pacing through the shadows of a world that would be better left alone. She screams as she garrotes one of her quarry. Maybe we could hear her, or maybe we just hope she’s still alive.


BenScerri BenScerri

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