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The Tome of Gates, A Dying World


L. Marcus

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I've had a fit of pseudo-creativity again, and wanted to put the results to words, and also perhaps get some constructive criticism. It's a fantasy setting -- a plane somewhere on the outskirts of the multiverse, a small world that started out sort of standard Sword & Sorcery-ish, with different folks living . But about twenty years ago, the ransom travels of the plane took it into the attention of a Qlippothic Hell that started to drain the vitality out of our little world. Over the past generation, disease has spread into plagues, bountiful fields have become dust bowls, all gods but one has fallen silent, and lately no children of any kind have been born.

 

The gods are gone, giving up their existence in a futile attempt to push back the invading realm. Only the Lady of Sorrow and Hope, known to most as Lacrimosa the Ever Crying, survived. She saw that her world is doomed beyond salving, that all life in it will go to feed those who are never sated. 

 

But she still saw hope for the people of her world. The dying world now has only rather petty magic, fit for jugglers and swindlers, to entertain and deceive; but in the far past, great empires wielded the highest magic. The mage empires are long gone, and the memories of them and their high spells are all that remain. The most renowned of the mage kings of old was Eyeless Tongue-less, who alone could walk at will between worlds. Lacriomosa saw this as a possibility for escape, not for her -- she was bound to the world -- but for the world's inhabitants.

 

Still, there were problems. Eyeless Tongue-less had written of his magic in his legendary Tome of Gates, but no copies were made, or if they were made, none had made it through the ages. The original, however, still ought to remain in Eyeless Tongue-less' sanctum, but that, too, was lost; he had hid it too well, even from the gods. The Lady of Tears could certainly find it, but not without cost, and all her attention must be turned to the Qlippoth. Lacrimosa would certainly need agents.

 

Here's where the PCs come in. In her desperation for men and women of action, the goddess turned to ... the more unsavory elements of the world -- thieves, robbers, slit-throats, sell-swords, hucksters, entertainers, and bawds. A select few of these she empowered with what little strength she could spare, for the expressed purpose of bringing her the Tome of Gates to save the world.

 

But they will have to hurry -- in her struggle, the goddess' strength is failing, and the Qlippoth have been started to find ways to slip into the world, in search of prey.

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Because of course the heroes already died heroically repelling the first qliphothic invasion, or the first dozen. She chose the most competent people that were left.

 

Sounds good.

 

Speaking of Lacrimosa, have you read Thomas deQuincey's "Levana and Our Ladies of Sorrow"?

 

Dean Shomshak

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On 10/2/2022 at 2:06 AM, L. Marcus said:

I've had a fit of pseudo-creativity again, and wanted to put the results to words, and also perhaps get some constructive criticism. It's a fantasy setting -- a plane somewhere on the outskirts of the multiverse, a small world that started out sort of standard Sword & Sorcery-ish, with different folks living . But about twenty years ago, the ransom travels of the plane took it into the attention of a Qlippothic Hell that started to drain the vitality out of our little world. Over the past generation, disease has spread into plagues, bountiful fields have become dust bowls, all gods but one has fallen silent, and lately no children of any kind have been born.

 

The gods are gone, giving up their existence in a futile attempt to push back the invading realm. Only the Lady of Sorrow and Hope, known to most as Lacrimosa the Ever Crying, survived. She saw that her world is doomed beyond salving, that all life in it will go to feed those who are never sated. 

 

But she still saw hope for the people of her world. The dying world now has only rather petty magic, fit for jugglers and swindlers, to entertain and deceive; but in the far past, great empires wielded the highest magic. The mage empires are long gone, and the memories of them and their high spells are all that remain. The most renowned of the mage kings of old was Eyeless Tongue-less, who alone could walk at will between worlds. Lacriomosa saw this as a possibility for escape, not for her -- she was bound to the world -- but for the world's inhabitants.

 

Still, there were problems. Eyeless Tongue-less had written of his magic in his legendary Tome of Gates, but no copies were made, or if they were made, none had made it through the ages. The original, however, still ought to remain in Eyeless Tongue-less' sanctum, but that, too, was lost; he had hid it too well, even from the gods. The Lady of Tears could certainly find it, but not without cost, and all her attention must be turned to the Qlippoth. Lacrimosa would certainly need agents.

 

Here's where the PCs come in. In her desperation for men and women of action, the goddess turned to ... the more unsavory elements of the world -- thieves, robbers, slit-throats, sell-swords, hucksters, entertainers, and bawds. A select few of these she empowered with what little strength she could spare, for the expressed purpose of bringing her the Tome of Gates to save the world.

 

But they will have to hurry -- in her struggle, the goddess' strength is failing, and the Qlippoth have been started to find ways to slip into the world, in search of prey.

 

More please!

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If you have access to Dean Shomshak's Champions supplement, The Mystic World, you might benefit from his description of the extra-dimensional planet Loezen (pp. 41-42). Its history and circumstances bear several striking similarities to the world you outlined, and the text mentions a number of cool concepts and NPCs you could adapt.(Book Of The Empress also transcribes all the same text on Loezen, on pp. 140-41.)

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I had thought it imodest to mention Loezen, but I see LL has done it for me.

 

The last story arc in my second Supermage playtest campaign had the PCs trying to save that world. (Not entirely altruistic: Some Loezenians were escaping to Earth and behaving like, well, D&D PCs.) This involved a visit to an oracle to find how to do this, a treasure hunt to acquire the three elements they needed, and various side-quests to deal with problems along the way. There was time travel (including at least one predestination paradox), allies recruited, enemies fought, and a terrible price paid, but ultimate success.

 

Among the problems the PCs faced were other Loezeniens with their own ideas how to save the world, or at least to save their own skins. In addition to the Loezenians invading Earth, the mage Naktorial had enslaved a whole country and numerous lesser sorcerers to build a Last Redoubt arcology that could survive the sun's death, while Norom Barcaldine, the Prince Who Never Was, sought to trap Loezen in a Groundhog Day time loop: The world would never end, but it wouldn't continue, either.

 

Dean Shomshak

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On 10/2/2022 at 10:06 PM, L. Marcus said:

Here's where the PCs come in. In her desperation for men and women of action, the goddess turned to ... the more unsavory elements of the world -- thieves, robbers, slit-throats, sell-swords, hucksters, entertainers, and bawds.

 

Characters like this are unlikely to be particularly literate. This opens up some interesting possibilities.

It's likely that the clues to finding the sanctum are to be found in oral, rather than written, traditions. Instead of searching ancient libraries as was done in earlier attempts to find it, the PCs need to ask a bard. Or possibly be the bard, since "entertainer" is on the list.

The clues have been there all along, just in stigmatized/ignored places. Popular songs? Nursery rhymes? Epic poems? Only of interest to fools, children and barbarians!

But there is still the issue of mostly illiterate people needing to be able to distinguish between one book and another...

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Thomas called Al-Shujaea home these days. He couldn't remember how old he was, exactly, but he figured he was around his mid-thirties, and for the past five years an attic off the Street of Potters had been where he'd hung up his hat. His hair was greying before his time, and the lines of his face were not getting shallower -- a rough life and the dust carried on the winds off the high desert saw to that.

 

It was now close to midnight, and Thomas was not-at-all staggering home. The evening's job had been a success, and he and his ... associates -- friends was too friendly a word -- had earned enough silver to last a good while. The strong date wine had flowed rather freely afterwards, but he'd managed to limit himself to a few cups. Thomas knew better than most what dangers lurked in the dark alleys along Al-Shujaea's mean streets. He had no intention of making it too easy for some desperate robber to relieve him of his hard-earned coin. The days being what they were, the desperate were growing in numbers, and the desperation grew even more.

 

But Thomas got home without incident. As they usually did at times like these, when he climbed the stairs to his room, memories came flooding in of another groaning old house with creaking stairs, and as usual he fended them off. He sang a dirty song to himself and tried to think happy thoughts. He entered his room -- as always, fighting a bit with the crooked door -- closed it, barred it, threw himself on the palliasse without even removing his boots, and fell asleep. And dreamed.

 

TBC

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