Scene 1: Recap

Rhomande: When last we left my Insufferable Basterds, they had just traversed the astral plane, to a non-place called the Citadel of the Rising Suns.  The citadel’s enormous turrets connect impossibly large walls, and the whole complex has something to do with the metaphorical risings of literal suns, as seen from literal planets.  But we did not have much time to muse on this odd plane-between-planes, as we were harried and chased across the aether by the howling denizens of the Hungering End.  And just when we thought it was safe, we ran into none other than my sister and her company of minstrel assassins, the Band of the Red Hands.  When all seemed lost, with both adventuring groups overwhelmed by the Howling Darkness, my sister’s sitar player, Zolov the Mesmerist, pulled an amulet from his robes.

Izzy: It’s too late, Rag.  We’re totally overrun, and the End has breached the walls.  Zolov, you know what to do!

Zolov: Ofs course.  We ams the Reds Hands.  We always has the seconds chance!

DM: Zolov reaches into his robes and pulls an amulet from the folds.  At the center of the circular amulet stands an angled gnomon, like the arm of a sun dial.  The enhanced vampire holds the amulet aloft, then hurls it to shatter upon the ground. 

((sfx: shatter))

DM: Time slows down, crawling and creeping to a slow halt, before everything …

((Sfx: rewind sound; possible rewind the whole fight scene?))

Zolov: If you does, peoples will die.  Trillsions.  Whole worlds resducedssd to their basics pars-tickles.

Ragnaroctopus: For crimes not yet committed – crimes that have been witnessed by Dawius Gwaven, Lord High Seer – you have been sentenced —

Rhomande: (interrupting) Quick! Before they finish their speech!  GET THROUGH THE GATES AND LOCK THEM BEHIND US!

((Sfx: stampede, gate hinge, slamming gate))

DM: Uhm… I guess with that, you’re safe enough to rest for a little bit.