Scene 1: Recap and Story Thus Far

Rhomande: Well, my Insufferable Basterds seem to have sorted out the foodstuffs issue.  Issa and Smyd snuck into Imenand and Maldreth’s cabins the other night and stole their necromancy supplies.  We’ve all threatened to scatter their little onyx gems and bits of bone all over the sea, unless the Warfather and the Mother of Weapons resume their divine production of our victuals and clean water.  But you’re not here for any of that, are you?  You’re hear to catch up on the news of the day with Chip Dipson’s Action Town Criers!  What’s the word, Chip?

Chip: Thank you, Rhomande.  Our investigative team has been traversing the Glass Road in the Walled Desert, to find the Portal of Pa’vos, at the behest of the as-yet unseen Emperor of Voladros.  Upon entering the Walled Desert, the following message rang out all around us:

Kasalan: (USE “translated” version from Ep 17) You have set foot within the domain of Kasalan the Hateful, Radiant Master of the Sisters of the Many.  Pitiful companions of the Crimson Magus, each step you take brings you nearer to your doom.  You shall not reach the Portal of Pa’vos.  Your blood shall run down the temple steps as I prepare the way for the Hungering End.  

Chip: To further complicate matters, Kasalan and the terrorist organization, The Sisters of The Many, seem to have magically displaced the entire temple complex in which the Portal of Pa’vos is housed.  We go now to our Senior Ecological Correspondent, Pinky the Problematic Pixie, for more.

Pinky: Thank you, Chip!  As you can see through your scryovision sets, the ochre sand of the Walled Desert extends for miles and miles, as far as the eye can see.  However, if we bring the crystal recorder here, past this jagged break in the glass road… we find ourselves standing not in a desert, but in some other twisted, sickly hellscape.  The skies here are orange-and-black, with a  cracked, scraggy, sort of grayish-brown landscape.  When we first arrived, we were greeted by the sight of four eyeless dire buzzards tearing apart the shell and skeleton of a Desert Megatortoise.  Eyewitnesses Hera Laris and Engar Flamehand had this to say… (quietly) Uh, Adanska, how do you get the quotes we recorded earlier to play?

((SFX: portal sounds when Pinky goes into the Wasteland))

Adanska: It is this button here, at the base of your Crustallum Vocis.  

((Sfx: click as Pinky’s recorder turns on))

Hera: As a paladin, nothing frightens me; however, it did unsettle me greatly to see the thorough and absolute corruption spreading throughout those poor animals.  No treatment in magic, prayer, or science could have saved them.

Engar: Oh, quite right!  Although those buzzards were native to this place, their remains were suffused with chaotic energies of extraplanar origin.  Between the chaotic field surrounding them and the volume differential of extraplanar protons, we’re looking at between six and fourteen years of high-level, cross-discipline collaboration before we’re ready to even analyze these remains properly.  Even then, it’ll still be another ten to twenty years after that before we have a cure.

Pinky: Scary things are afoot in the Walled Desert.  Word has been sent to the authorities at Z’gor D’riiz, and we hope the area will be quarantined soon.  For now, we recommend halting any plans to travel to the Walled Desert.  Back to you, Chip!

Chip: Thank you, Pinky.  This just in: We have reports that one Åx Balbjorn has come into direct contact with the aforementioned extradimensional energies.  Healers from the orders of the Triple Goddess and Paldas the Bright are keeping him for observations, but so far no permanent damage seems to have been sustained.  We go now to The Wiz for an exclusive interview.

The Wiz: Thanks, Chip!  So.  Mister Balbjorn.  You’re one of them axe-o-mancers, aintcha?  That must be weird.  Anyway, you had some o’ that weird chaos energy flow into you.  How’d that happen?

Åx: Well, I charged my axe with a leeching spell, before I swung.  When it hit the bird, then I was stuck.  I saw some things that you wouldn’t like.  Sometimes I can still see all of it when I close my eyes…

The Wiz: Well, if I wouldn’t like it, then I don’t wanna hear none of it!  You look fine physically, so howsabout you get back to your job guarding the wagon, now?  Back to you, Chip!

Chip: Thank you, The Wiz.  If anybody has information about this strange disease or its plane of origin, please contact the Order of Paldas or the Order of the Triune Goddess immediately.  That’s all the news for now!  This is Chip Dipson signing off!

Rhomande: Lords and ladies of my beloved audience, recline upon your gilded seats, quaff your libations, and adjust your listening devices to receive the full range of resonance and reverberation, that you may thoroughly enjoy your evening at the 20-Sided Theatre!