The Riches of Bazekop

Over the last five sessions, our party of daring dreamers plummeted in the aerie depths of the lowest level of the White Jungle on the back of a fleet of giant war crows, violent and wild, with a phalanx of storm rider paladins. Their mission was to loot the invisible tower of Bazekop, Prince of the South Wind. In all honesty, my imagination had begun to wear a bit thin and algorithms repeated themselves, over the course of these sessions. So, I’d prefer to be forward looking here. This post is dedicated solely to THE TAKE, the greatest take the party has pulled in our three years of adventuring. (I still hold that had Clovis been present, the party might have perished. The party has a long history of accidental but timely player absences. You wouldn’t have the Petal Blade had Sir Tresken been present for the session in the Cenotaph of Lady Shirishanu where you faced Shirishanu’s handmaiden. But I digress…)

Unasi removes his chainmail armor, and sets aside his hood, to recline gently on Bazekop’s opulent floating bed. As he quaffs the potion of penumbral transmigration, the jungle sage gathers about himself the piled sheets of silk, the hues of crashing waves and breaking surf. As he sinks his head onto a pillow filled with the down of clouds, peace comes to his troubled countenance and his eyes close, his breathing becoming deep and regular. His dream consciousness unfolds from his cerebellum encasing him in a cyst like the curling fleshy fronds of the white jungle.

At the behest of Valmoreaux—laughing, giddy, all enmity forgotten, for thought of competition is absurd in the face of such overwhelming abundance—the giant crows begin deposit the riches of Bazekop’s treasure on the bed in piles seemingly without end, heads cocked like a bird bringing colorful string and baubles to adorn his nest when the eggs grow heavy in his mate. Securing the loot precariously in huge packs, comically overladen, one by one the party ferries it through the otherworldly priaduct to the Chatelaine’s throne room.

Oh, what glorious riches from a Prince of the Seven Heavens Above! Chests laden heavy with coins and grotesque jewelry in the form of horrible monsters of the sea; hollowed pearls, of subtle pastel shades, the size of watermelons; a dozen hunting horns, fashioned from huge conch shells, with fittings of white silver; a delicate tea set of polished coral, enameled with the seal of the House of Squalls, snug in a glorious box, ingeniously constructed with nesting drawers of gleaming blond driftwood; three great mirrors, set in jeweled frames of silver and brass depicting the seasons of the wind; a net of iridescent mesh, stronger than steel; a pair of barbed tridents, weapons too large for a man to wield, with long handles inlaid with cerulean shells in swirling patterns; alabaster rods apparently enchanted to summon sumptuous feasts; grapes of starlight gems on stems of white silver that exude the lightness and chill of the outer dark at the shores of the seventh heaven.

And the feathered crown of the House of Squalls, regalia of a satrap of the heavens of above, with layered veils of prismatic gemstones, grey and white, like sheets of driving rain! And low: a great chariot of Bazekop’s house, the Squall Hierophant, fashioned at the behest of his warlike father Lrashka in the great cloud forges of the fifth heaven. Its panels of cerulean-gold are painted with glorious abstract forms of squid atrament that dizzy the mind like the buffeting winds of a storm, with great pearl encrusted harnesses in the front, and barding for giant seahorses. The chariot, so huge, you must disassemble it into pieces to fit it through the priaduct, is dragged by screaming war crows that the paladins must drive with blows through the priaduct.

And the library of Bazekop. Not large in size, but of extraordinary interest to certain members of the party. Some select tomes of interest in Mia concern the interpretation of the Treaty of the Farthest Shore. Of greatest value, there is a long series of tomes (twenty in total) called “Disputations of the Squamous Jurists on the Treaty of the Farthest Shore”. These consist of commentaries ringed about the text of the treaty itself. Each huge page, four feet tall, consists of concentric rings of commentary by disputing jurists on the text of the treaty itself, nestled in a tiny space in the middle of each page. Some pages comment on a single word, others on a phrase, or several lines. In this way, by turning page after page, it appears that one could piece together the original treaty. Of course, there are the nested series of commentaries by disputing jurists as well. I will reveal more if Mia wishes to study these strange texts. Let me know what she wants to get from the study, and I will reveal more. (Ask me questions.)

Unasi’s eye is caught by a text called, “A Pallid Wood: The Histories and Mysteries of the Inverted Jungle”. This is a book by a scholar of the air Azkanaga that explores the history and metaphysics of the White Jungle. Its most startling claim: the roots of the jungle lie in other dreamlands. If Unasi wishes to immerse himself in the meditations and speculations of this text he may, when he has leisure. The largest share of the books are arcane texts written by sages of the air and the occasional mad wizard on the Boreal Wind and the nature of the chaos that lies outside of time. Let me know if anyone would like to begin study of this, larger body of texts. The Chatelaine has some interest in them.

And last of all, like Ouroborous eating its own tail, you pull Bazekop’s floating bed itself through the priaduct, leaving the priaduct hanging in air.

Valmoraux insures that he is the first to step from the priaduct, saying, “My Chatelaine, we bring you untold riches from the spirits of the air of Wishery. The waking world will look with envy and awe on the splendor we lay at your feet.” The Chatelaine says, “We shall see Valmoreaux, our eyes are more jaded than yours, clouded as they are by your ambitious chivalry.” At first, as the goods begin to come through the priaduct she makes a few more biting remarks. But soon she stops, struck speechless; eventually her mouth slack goes, eyes twinkling feverishly, as the strange and opulent objects are piled about her chambers. Uttering an incantation, she sees the blazing rays of magic streaming forth from numerous objects, so brightly that she must cover her eyes. (Unfortunately for you, you may not hold back anything from the Chatelaine, since Valmoraux and the storm riders were present for it all.)

“Splendid indeed,” she says when the riches are finally through, “Were there any casualties among the Crows? And how, Valmoreaux, did the others comport themselves, my secret agents on the other side of the veil?”

“There were no casualties of either Storm Rider or Crow. In truth my Chatelaine,” says Valmoreaux with admiration creeping into his voice, “the others are seasoned veterans, ruthless and cunning reavers. If what you seek are agents of subterfuge in this alien realm, to sew chaos and upset the balance, I think they will serve you well.” He adds as though he cannot resist tempering the praise, “Although I cannot attest to the extent of their loyalty.”

“When interests align Valmoreaux,” she says with a sly smile, “it is foolish to make a fetish of loyalty. I will reward their service generously. You will all be rich! I grant those of you who are not citizens of Rastingdrung citizenship here. And I will grant each of you a rare favor as well. Consider the resources of the Temple, my library and laboratories, and the labor of my many apprentices available to you. Let me know what each of you may wish.”

A wish here might include an item from the treasure haul, within reason.

Valmoreaux invites Sleestacarus to quarter and spar with the Storm Riders. He may train with them, teaching them his gladiatorial techniques, and making connections among them if he wishes.

There is also the matter of your boxed captive, Cazara, matchmaker from the House of Winter's Verge. What do you want to do with her? The Chatelaine will also want to speak with her.

XP: Each PC may take 60,000 XP. Note the rule about maximum XP: you can at most rise one level and be 1 XP away from the next level. All XP additional to that evaporates

GP: Each PC may take 30,000 GP. The Chatelaine seems unwilling to pay you more. (Although you can supplement if you like by taking a “treasure” item from the haul.) 

There is now a dedicated downtime-thread channel on the game's Discord server. You can comment there. Discord is perfect for downtime conversations.