MadCast: Munsa

Planescape 5E Conversion

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Question for the players:

What would be a better direction for the campaign, thematic wise?  Right now, I think we could either play out the first expeditions of the (probably) first Spelljammer, exploring stuff that might even shock the deepest Abyss dweller OR we could have a time skip after a few ends get wrapped up, and Spelljammers are uncommon, but you are not alone in the "skies".

I think I have been suitably entertained by the Party to give you a wealth upgrade regardless of the narrative path forward, so here's that to help you decide:

Financiers of Kings

Without the edge of the Godbox, the Pridian Consortium is at best second fiddle to what you have accomplished.  A dozen squads of elite Aquisitors fulfill all but the most dangerous of operations, side businesses are thriving, and the portal technology of the Stacksonian is nearly complete. You now have the sustainable wealth to do most anything mundane or fantastical such as but not limited to:  indefinitely equip, maintain, and pay an army of respectable size, pursuing massive investments, and seeking ludicrous levels of personal luxuries.  

We have several scenes and important decisions to resolve, so expect a talking heavy session.  

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Yan-C-Bin and the Elemental Court of Air

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Yan-C-Bin is an archomental, one of the 4 spawn of the Elder Elemental Eye, and he sits atop a complex feudal empire of kingdoms that comprise the Elemental Kingdom of Air.  The seat of Elemental Air, the true essence of the archomental, is eternal.  There always is a Yan-C-Bin, sitting undisputed at the center of the volatile kingdom.  However, the chaotic nature of air demands change and a mortal (even if it stretches the term by a few millennia or so) anchor is necessary.  Yan-C-Bin consorts with many varied creatures, siring a number of offspring, from which he will choose the next anchor.  To avoid competition among his spawn, all but his chosen are systematically hunted down and killed once a successor presents itself.

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The largest chunk of solid matter in the infinite plane is the city of Borealis, from which Yan-C-Bin rules.  The city contains a massive central palace, with 4 shrines to each of the cardinal directions.  Special emphasis is placed on the Shrine of the North Wind, with a grand processional extending from the palace to the northern shrine.  The architecture bears striking similarity to Elvish architecture, though it would be more chronologically appropriate to say that Elvish architects were influenced by it.  

Borealis boasts the Grand Bazaar, a vast marketplace that rivals those of Sigil itself.  The market is unevenly regulated, with governmental officials existing in a chaotic sea of bribes, assassinations, and taxation.  Imports are subject to heavy tariffs, while the singularly unique craftsmen of Borealis send their wares to Sigil and beyond.  Swords, in particular, from the Air Smiths are particularly prized.  Collecting the solid detritus that spills over from the Elemental Plane of Earth, Air Smiths control winds of incredible force, molding and shaping the metal into peerless blades.  The greatest of Air Smiths train for centuries, only to retire (or commit suicide, among the fanatical) after creating their masterwork.

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Currently in favor in the Court of Yan-C-Bin are two primary groups:  The Avariel and The Cloud Giants.  

The Avariel are an old subspecies of elves, the first to splinter from the original Eladrin.  Most notable for their feathered wings, The Avariel are militaristic and cruel.  Seeing themselves as rightful successors to the fallen empires of the Eladrin, they control most of the solid chunks of land that float in the infinite plane, and hold the majority of the Air Genasi population in servitude.  The Avariel are a matriarchal society, with power and position passing from mother to daughter.  Each "roost" as it is colloquially known is ruled by a female general, and all swear fealty to the Royal Line, a series of matriarchs that trace their lineage to true Fey.

The Cloud Giants are smaller in number than the Avariel and their Genasi slaves, but their line of cloud fortresses form the front lines of the eternal war with the elemental plane of Earth.  Each fortress regards itself as its own tribe, led by an appointed Chieftain and hereditary Shaman.  The High King of the Cloud Giants resides in Borealis, serving as both the undisputed military leader of all the tribes, as well as the High Priest of the North Wind.  The Giants are the primary raiders and conquerors of the Empire of Air, especially when sent against the Dwarves, Gnomes, and other hated foes that make up the armies of the Earth plane.

The current Yan-C-Bin encourages infighting and a constant shifting of power between the other denizens of his realm, including Air Elementals proper, flying demons from the Abyss, Angels from the upper planes, mortal races apart from the Genasi, and others.  Of special note are the Efreeti, representatives from the "allied" plane of Fire.  While they hold no offices or authority above a certain level, they are considered under diplomatic protection and abuse it.

Disfavor in the Court is temporary, except for one particular group: The Djinn.  Djinn embrace their chaotic nature, but bear a true desire to do good and preserve life (with an acceptable amount of well-intentioned trickery).  Thus, while still citizens of the Empire, they are severely discriminated against.  Nonetheless, Djinn do possess some positions of authority within the Empire, as the chaotic Court suits the innate guile of the genies.
  

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To further conceptualize how my take on the cosmology works, Air is situated against Earth, Fire against Water, and the borders between those two planes are part of The Fulcrum, containing the Upper and Lower planes, the Primes, and Sigil and the Outlands.  The infinities from the various planes are given planar "space" in the infinities of the elemental planes, which form the structure of reality.  Where the elemental planes meet is similar to two colonies of coral trying to devour each other, with planar territory being conquered and lost, assuming the element of its controller.  

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Wherever I go, I leave a trail of blood in my wake.

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At first it was merely for survival. Not just because the Outer Planes are a dangerous place, but because the archfiend Rayse demanded tribute.

One life every three days, or I would suffer his wrath. Pain beyond pain, along with a glimpse of what the world could've been like.

Once, everything was wreathed with twisting flames, all life lost in an angry orange haze.

Another time, the walls screamed sweet nothings into my ears as the floor begged me not to listen.

I've seen all the beauty and form in this world melt away, shattering on the broken ground until it made a sea of jagged glass to drown in.

I've had all the victims and failures of the past drag me under the dark waters beyond reality's veil to tear me to shreds.

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Perhaps if I were a stronger willed man, I could've resisted, or just let the fiend take my life. Instead, I found purpose.

The effects of just a single life taken or saved is as exhilarating as it is terrifying.

One dead creditor led to a roof to sleep under and someone that saw potential in my curse.

She encouraged me to follow in the footsteps of heroes. Seek out and smite evil. Save the innocent. Just like the legends and tales.

It shouldn't have worked even once, confronting what evaded the gaze of the Harmonium. But our strikes were quick, lethal, and completely unexpected.

We should've stopped, but the curse was ever present, and Lynne and I aimed higher and higher as greater threats were made manifest in the Hive.

It was terribly naive, but the thrill of successful assaults was intoxicating, and nothing had stopped us yet. So hand in hand we fell into it, this making of our own myth. Like a dream. Or a fever.

And when the Tramontane struck back, it was like a powder keg went off. No one came out unscathed. By the end, everyone involved was dead, broken, or imprisoned.

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I don't know what the Harmonium saw in me. Something to be pitied. A useful tool with which to peer into the underworld. Or perhaps a wake up call concerning their role in Sigil society.

Either way, their mandate of being a hidden eye into criminal activity set me on my current path.

Tearing apart gangs. Uncovering dark plots. Sundering a god. Joining the Acquisitor's Guild. Killing the past. Being thrust into the public eye, falling even more out of depth than I had ever been.

I tried to play the part of paragon, either out of guilt or because of old habits. Seeking out the weak and pursued and shielding them from harm, goading their tormentors into trying to stop me. It made for easy fodder for the curse.

But the past wasn't done with us yet, and in trying to subvert the plans of our rivals we unleashed chaos upon Sigil, drawing the ire of nearly every other faction.

Faced with such a dire situation, we made a deal with the devil and fled the city, leaving our personal projects to the wolves.

If that weren't noble and heroic enough, now we might stoop to inciting planewide civil war just to keep our heads above water.

I've seen what Rayse wishes to make of all creation. An endless wasteland of blood, ash, and ruin, where people kill and be killed, only to rise again. Conflict for conflict's sake.

At this rate he won't need to even lift a finger to see that rat's nest arise.

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My name is, presumably, Nathan Renardine. The Young Crow. The Dark Saint. The Blazing Blade of the Hive. Child of Discord.

I've tried to be a good person, or at least appear as such. Hide the trail of blood and ruin. Mask the past with saintly deeds.

So far, it hasn't really stuck. And seeing it all so easily undone is... exhausting and painful.

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I'm not sure how much longer I can keep doing this.

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Sorry about the lapsed session this past week.

One thing we haven't revisited in a while are character goals.  Voshay and I have talked about The Immortal's overarching goal, Crow's goal is still extant.  What I want to do, either ingame on the way to Borealis, is get an update on Jason and Kelvin, and where they are at in the current climate of the game.

As for the coming 72 hours, I'm good for either Monday evening or Sunday afternoon/evening.

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It appears that I am late to this party ... however... *perks an eyebrow and raises three fingers tentatively to be counted among the interested*

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The Immortal: You say you want a revolution, well, you know- that's literally a recurring, pointless theme and activity in a remorseless, dying universe where morality is a construct, life is meaningless, and there are no heroes and villains- merely victims and victors.

 

I would be fun at parties, but literally everyone I ever knew in life I brutally murdered in an apocalypse that left me the sole, ageless survivor of an ancient civilization.

Edited by MadCast: VoShay

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A quick recap of the status of the campaign:
 

  • Cat's Cradle/Minerva Excelsius/HELLHOUSE still awaits, holding a climactic showdown for Crow, a potential artifact-level power source for The Immortal's Child, and general mayhem.
  • A zealous new religion is growing membership in Sigil.  They have expressed animosity towards the AG and the Stacksonian institute in particular.
  • Jack-of-all-Trades' ultimate goal is to explore the void growing on the boundary between the Air and Earth planes.

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13 hours ago, MadCast: Munsa said:

A quick recap of the status of the campaign:
 

  • Cat's Cradle/Minerva Excelsius/HELLHOUSE still awaits, holding a climactic showdown for Crow, a potential artifact-level power source for The Immortal's Child, and general mayhem.
  • A zealous new religion is growing membership in Sigil.  They have expressed animosity towards the AG and the Stacksonian institute in particular.
  • Jack-of-all-Trades' ultimate goal is to explore the void growing on the boundary between the Air and Earth planes.
  • The Immortal colonizes a new plane of existence with his World Ship and reignites the Eladrin Race.
 

ftfy

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